I'm 22 years old with a love for tickling. I’m a proud Ravenclaw. I'm also here to meet new friends as well and reading a bunch of tickle stories makes me happy. I also write stories about acotar. Oh and if you wanna dm, please address me to she/her
Chapter three: After Nesta's car breaks down and Cassian comes to the rescue, an afternoon of festive treats and Christmas films turns into something a lot more significant when they finally decide to act upon those pesky feelings. (previous chapter)
(for @emeriethevalkyriegirl as part of the @acotargiftexchange. This is the final chapter and I had so much fun with this AU. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you have a wonderful Christmas!)
***
I’ll be whatever you want me to be sweetheart.
Nesta scowled furiously as she buried her chin into the scarf she’d wrapped vigorously around her neck, shoving her hands deep in her pockets as she stared blankly at the engine of her car, willing it to start as it sat, mute and cold, beneath the open hood. She had, as of five minutes ago, lost all sense of feeling in her fingers. Her toes were next, and as she pulled her hands from her pockets and rubbed her palms together in a vain attempt at forcing some warmth into them, she thought back to what Cassian had said the night before and wondered if he could be a fucking mechanic.
Not that she was going to call him.
She would sooner watch a YouTube tutorial and try and figure out the problem herself, but as she felt the cold burning through to her bones, Nesta let out the lowest, bitterest, foulest curse she’d ever thought imaginable.
It had been a day.
Ever since she’d opened the shop at eight, it had been a string of missing deliveries, a faulty heating system, and unattended children putting sticky hands all over the special edition books. There was an anniversary edition of Six of Crows that was entirely unsalvageable, and given that she’d barely slept - her head too loud and spinning too fast from what she’d deemed unaffectionately as the tinsel incident - her patience was on a short enough fuse that she thought one more thing might push her over the edge.
She certainly did not have the strength enough to deal with the way Cassian had stood so blatantly before her and asked her to give him a chance.
She hadn’t taken him up on it, but there had been a moment - just one - where she had honest-to-god thought about kissing him.
And now her car wouldn’t start and there was a three-hour wait for recovery.
You need to go home, Emerie had said, when the clock had barely ticked past two. Go— Gwyn and I can handle it. You look like you need a break and besides, you haven’t taken time off in forever.
Nesta had lingered, considering it for all of fifteen seconds. Then Gwyn had been grabbing Nesta’s coat and shoving it into her hands, and Nesta had been out of the door before it turned two-thirty.
Except she hadn’t made it very far.
Maybe you should call Cassian, Gwyn had suggested with a raised eyebrow as she herded Nesta towards the door. Nesta had resolutely raised her middle finger and left without looking back, but now…
God-fucking-damn it, she was going to have to swallow her pride and call him.
Still staring into the depths of her car engine, like another solution might miraculously appear, she dialled his number and waited for him to answer.
“Well, well, well,” Cassian drawled as he answered the phone on the third ring.
Nesta closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her numb fingers.
“Don’t start.”
He laughed, the sound rich and deep. She could have drowned in that sound, she thought. “I’m just surprised you called, that’s all.” She heard him putting something down, something that sounded like a pen onto a desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Nesta scrunched her face, mentally preparing herself to do the single hardest thing she had ever sone in her life: ask someone else for help.
“My car won’t start,” she mumbled. Her fingers were freezing, her cheeks were already starting to ache from the cold, and god, she cursed Gwyn for not driving - ‘think of the environment, Nesta!’ - and Emerie for not being able to leave the shop. Nesta hadn’t swallowed her pride enough to call either of her sisters yet, and Cassian was the only option left.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Say again?”
Nesta huffed. “Why are you always such an ass?”
He laughed again. “Genuinely, sweetheart. I couldn’t understand a word you just said, because it sounded like it came through gritted teeth.”
Pointedly, Nesta unclenched her jaw. “My car. Won’t. Start.”
Silence.
For half a second - half a breath - there was silence, and then he was clearing his throat. There was rustling, like already he was getting up and putting on his jacket, and when he next spoke, his voice was louder, like he’d jammed the phone between his ear and his shoulder.
“I’m on my way. Just tell me where you are.”
***
“I don’t think I can fix this,” Cassian said, hands on his hips. He’d tried jumpstarting the battery, checked the oil levels, even asked her if she had gas before holding up his hands in surrender and backing off, muttering about how it was a valid question, and how there was no need for the death stare. Nesta wasn’t sure there was anything else for an amateur to try, and she groaned as another shiver racked through her and made her teeth chatter.
Cassian turned to look at her, frowning at the way she wrapped her arms so tightly around herself to preserve the last of her body heat.
“Get in,” he said, nodding to his car. “I’ll drive you home.”
And Nesta thought that she might have spent more time protesting, more time pretending like she could wait for someone from the garage to come and get her, but… she really, really couldn’t feel her damned toes. With little more than a stiff nod, she trudged her way through the snow and to his car, scowling as he overtook her with ease and took the opportunity to open the passenger door for her.
Within moments he was in the driver’s seat, the engine started, heat pouring through the air vents. Nesta silently thanked the heavens, extending her hands towards the vents and blessing the warm air that brushed against her frozen fingers.
With a single swipe, Cassian batted her hands down. “Don’t put them too close to the heat. You’ll get chilblains if you don’t warm up slowly.”
Nesta scowled, shoving her hands into her pockets. Already, though, she was thawing, and though she pretended not to notice the smug little smile on Cassian’s face as he watched her keep her hands away from direct heat, she did clear her throat and mutter a quiet,
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Nesta rolled her eyes. “For coming to help me out.”
A furrow entered his brow, a single slow blink evidence of his confusion. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
“No, it’s not that. I just…” Nesta shook her head, letting the words die in the silence between them. I didn’t think you cared enough to drop everything for me went unsaid. I didn’t think I mattered that much to anyone, let alone to a man I’ve rejected more times than I can count. “Thank you. That’s all.”
Cassian blinked again. “Anytime,” he said softly.
And there she was, stuck in an enclosed space with the man she’d thought about kissing less than twenty-four hours before. A man who had brought her hot cocoa drizzled with caramel and hung tinsel on her god-damned fireplace. His shoulder brushed her arm, and when he put his hand on the gear stick, his fingers were so close that she could see the scars on his knuckles from all the bar fights she knew he’d gotten into when he was younger.
She blinked as she looked at those scars; crowned by the single silver ring studded with a garnet he wore on his pointer finger.
And for a moment - one insane, stupid moment - she though that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let him in, to let him care for her in all the ways she was so scared of. Maybe, just maybe, she could let herself lean into the vulnerability that felt like it was cutting off her air supply, because maybe, just maybe, she could trust him to catch her if she fell.
Nesta swallowed and reached for the volume dial on the radio just to provide a distraction.
She had prepared herself for a barrage of Christmas music - more Mariah Carey, more Wham! - and was surprised when the music that came from the speakers was something… good.
“What’s this?” she said as she noted the presence of bass guitar and drums; drums that he tapped his fingers in time with on the steering wheel. He didn’t answer, only cast a sideways glance at her and raised a brow. “I figured you’d be using this opportunity to force some more festivity onto me. Did you hit a secret Spotify limit on Michael Bublé?”
Cassian snorted, and as he looked over his shoulder to reverse, his arm slung over the back of her seat, she pretended not to notice how his fingers trailed in her hair and grazed the edge of her shoulder. How it felt like he was seizing an opportunity. When he turned his gaze back, their eyes met. He winked.
“Firstly, I happen to like good music. And secondly…” He trailed off, grinning. “Slow and steady, sweetheart. I figured you’d sooner walk home if I started playing All I Want for Christmas.”
Nesta snorted as she settled in her seat. “Damn straight I would.”
A moment of silence passed. And then—
“You know,” Nesta said slowly, “I always figured you’d have made a better musician than a private investigator.”
She cast her eyes along the tattoos on his arms, the rings on his fingers. The way he looked so sinfully good in black.
“Oh?” he said, smirking as he hit the road. The noise of the engine was a quiet hum beneath the music, and though Nesta kept her eyes straight, Cassian’s own flicked to the passenger seat so frequently it was as though he was struggling to keep his focus on the road. She could feel the way his attention glided along her frame, how it kept returning to her again and again. She didn’t know what to do with it; how to handle being the sole focus of another person’s attention when she wasn’t being scrutinised or criticised or otherwise judged in some way. Her mother had only ever looked at her and saw room for improvement; Tomas had only ever looked and sought ways to make her feel small. It was different with Cassian— different, when he pushed a button and turned on her heated seat, and angled the vents down so that more warm air reached her frozen toes. Like he looked at her and saw immediately what she needed.
She hummed as she leaned back against the heated seat, feeling heat lick up her spine. “Look at you. All tattoos and long hair and leather.”
He scoffed. “Is there something wrong with the tattoos and long hair and leather?”
Nesta shook her head, just a shade too quickly. He noticed; that smirk of his grew teeth, something smug - something cocky - playing at the corner of his mouth as Nesta forced herself to keep her eyes trained straight ahead. She plastered what she hoped was her most convincing look of boredom on her face, her most expert expression of hauteur.
“No,” she answered, just an edge too strongly to really be believed. Silently cursing herself, she cleared her throat and fought to stop the blood rising to her cheeks. Impervious, she was trying to be impervious, but every time she felt his eyes on her, the heart in her chest started fucking skipping like she was a teenager again. “I never said there was.”
He smirked again. “Oh, so you like the tattoos and the long hair and leather?”
With a roll of her eyes, Nesta folded her arms across her chest and turned to look out of the window. Stubborn, she lifted her chin.
“Fuck you, Cassian.”
He laughed then, and if Nesta thought the sound was rich before, she had never heard it in such close confines, in such an enclosed space. He seemed to encompass her. His aftershave was in her mouth, all she could smell and taste and breathe, and it was making her so fucking dizzy she didn’t know which way was up.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a wink that had her scowling all over again, “I wish you would.”
***
“What are you doing?”
Nesta stood in her kitchen, momentarily struck dumb as she towelled the ends of her hair with fingers that were only recently restored to feeling. She had made a beeline for the shower the moment Cassian’s car had pulled into her driveway, and though she’d distantly heard him say something about getting her a fire started and putting on the kettle, she’d be lying if she said she’d been paying attention to anything but the thought of warm water and her fleece-lined leggings.
And now, Cassian stood at her kitchen counter… cutting cake.
Her favourite mug sat beside him, gently steaming, and with a single finger he pushed it along the counter towards her.
“I figured I’d make you my Christmas special,” he said with a shrug.
She would have been lying if she said she’d expected him to stick around once she’d vanished upstairs to take her shower. But there he was, a tupperware container sitting next to the generous slice of cake he’d just set onto a side plate.
Nesta eyed it skeptically. “And what’s that?”
Cassian picked up the plate and rounded the counter. He came closer, holding out the plate like an offering. “Did I ever tell you that before my mother died, she taught me how to make two things in the kitchen?”
Mute, Nesta shook her head. He hummed again as he pressed the plate into her hands, and she wondered if she’d caught hypothermia from standing out in the cold for so long— if this was all just a hallucination, because there was a six-foot man in her kitchen presenting her with the most delectable looking chocolate cake she had ever seen in her life, and she couldn’t explain why. All she had ever done was push him away, and yet there he was, standing before her like he’d known all along they’d end up here anyway. His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the plate, and god, why did that make her feel fucking lightheaded?
He smiled, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on her, and nodded to the counter, where the curls of steam still rose from her mug.
“She taught me how to make a decent cup of tea,” he said, “and a sinfully good cranberry and chocolate cake.”
And wasn’t that the most insane thing?
The man she had spent three entire years avoiding because she’d taken one look at his face and thought he’d be the kind of man to fuck around… was standing in her kitchen now and presenting her with a slice of homemade fucking chocolate cake. After Tomas, she figured that her sense of judgment when it came to men might have been a little off, but…
Jesus Christ.
“You… made chocolate cake?”
Cassian grinned again. “Of course, I was all of five years old when she died so the recipe is mainly one I’ve edited over the years.” His face softened, some of the bravado melting away. “Whenever I think of my childhood… I remember her chocolate cake every Christmas.”
It was all Nesta could do to blink. “You really are determined to get me in the festive spirit, huh?”
He reached out to flick his thumb across the tip of her nose. “Now you’re getting it.”
She glanced down, eyes fixated on the cake in her hands. “But how did you already have this? You couldn’t have known my car would bail on me today. Not unless you’re pulling an Edward Cullen and messing with my engine to stop me from seeing people you don’t like.”
He tilted his head, an amused kind of confusion flitting across his face. The smile that pulled at his lips was small and lovely and Nesta wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to make that smile bloom. She hauled herself back from that brink before she could topple over it, but… the thought was still there, lingering in the back of her mind and making her wonder what it would feel like to have his hands on her skin, his voice in her ear.
“I didn’t understand any of that last part, but I was already planning on dropping by after work, actually.”
For the moment Nesta decided to skate right over the fact that the man had no knowledge of Twilight - though for a heartbeat she wondered if she could force him to watch the entire saga as payback for his crusade in getting her in the Christmas spirit - and instead lifted a single brow and folded her arms, the very picture of dissent.
“Presumptuous of you. What if I’d been working late?”
His smile turned wicked, the wink he gave her nothing short of devious. “I checked with Emerie.”
Nesta swore under her breath. “I am going to kill her.”
He laughed, the sound so strange echoing in her kitchen, and when he reached out to brush the damp hair from her face, Nesta couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Something about the soft smile on his face made her want to throw caution to the wind and fall right into his arms.
“Don’t be too mad at her,” he said easily. “I told her I’d pull some strings and get tickets for that band she likes.”
Nesta gasped, hitting him firmly in the chest with the back of her hand. “No, you will not! Gwyn and I already got her those tickets for Christmas.”
He tilted his head. “But it’s sold out.”
Nesta huffed. “You’re not the only one who can pull strings.”
Cassian’s answering smirk made a small laugh rise in Nesta’s own chest. “You asked Rhys too, huh?”
“No,” Nesta insisted haughtily. Then, “I asked Feyre.”
“Who then asked Rhys.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Cassian grinned again, leaning back against her counter and folding his arms. Through narrowed eyes, Nesta studied him.
“I’ll still be having words with Emerie, anyway. We have rules about this kind of thing.”
“What kind of thing?”
“Giving out details of work schedules to strange men.”
“Strange men? I’m wounded.”
Nesta snorted. “Not nearly wounded enough considering you’re still standing in my kitchen. Don’t you have to get back to work?”
Again that grin spread unfettered across Cassian’s face, and a wild glint entered his eye that had something in Nesta’s stomach doing backflips. Curse this man— for driving her home, for bringing her cake, for standing there and looking like that and making it utterly impossible to remember why the hell she fought so hard to keep him at arms length.
Probably, she thought as he winked at her again, because she knew that if she didn’t keep him at arms length, she would be in trouble.
“Nah,” he said smoothly. “I told them I’d be gone for the rest of the day.”
Nesta raised a brow. “And here I thought you were presumptuous before.”
“I never disappoint,” he said, pushing away from her counter. “So, what are we doing for the rest of the day?”
Nesta looked at him, incredulous. “We are doing nothing. I am going to get on that sofa and not move until I feel some kind of warmth again.”
He hummed. “We can watch Christmas movies.”
“With a man who clearly hasn’t seen Twilight? I don’t think so.”
And yet— she was walking into her living room, and he was following her, and she was doing nothing to stop it. She carried her plate of cake like it was precious - because it looked good - and when he sank down on her couch, she was surprised that there were no sharp words left in her that she could use to rebuke or rebuff him. He grinned as he leaned back, stretching out an arm across the back cushions.
“A bargain, then. One Christmas movie followed by one stupid vampire movie.” He patted the cushion beside him. “I promise I can warm you up better than any blanket can.”
Nesta hesitated. “Give me one good reason why.”
He tilted his head. “Sweetheart, I can give you an entire list if you really want, but what it all boils down to is this: you’re cold, and I made you chocolate cake. And I will happily sit here and watch whatever weird vampire movie you want if you sit through Home Alone 2 with me.”
“Home Alone 2?”
Solemn, he nodded.
And though Nesta knew she’d probably regret it later, she said nothing, only sat down beside him and handed him her TV remote.
***
When he woke, Cassian wondered briefly where the fuck he was.
The ceiling he glanced up at was simultaneously unfamiliar and known to him; the way the light from the streetlights outside slanted through the window was foreign and yet still something tugged at his memory, and as he shifted on the couch - because he was on a couch - his brain caught up at last and he remembered how he’d closed his eyes as the light had started to fade and some guy on the TV was starting to fucking sparkle.
His mind went blank as he looked to the TV and found a blank screen. Outside night had fully fallen, and he had no idea what time it was except—
Nesta was still beside him, still sleeping, her head resting on his shoulder and her knees tucked up against the side of his thigh.
For a long while, Cassian didn’t dare to move.
Didn’t dare to breathe.
He listened to the rhythm of her breathing instead, looking down at her face, half buried against the fabric of his shirt. Her eyelashes brushed her cheek, her lips parted, and God, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in all his thirty-four years of living. Slowly - agonisingly, achingly slowly - he shifted, moving his arm so that it was no longer trapped beneath her but loosely circling her waist. She seemed to sink into the extra warmth, curling more deeply against him, and he knew that this was a moment destined to shatter the second she opened her eyes and so fuck, he wanted to savour every last piece of it.
He’d already fucked up once. When he’d first met her and been so stunned he’d been left stupid, immediately giving her some pick up line that left her with entirely the wrong first impression of him, and, as he’d learned to his detriment, once Nesta Archeron had formed an opinion of you, she didn’t give you much chance to change it.
So he relished in it now, the fact that he was sitting on her couch in the dark, listening to her breathe as she slept against his shoulder.
And if he pulled her a little bit closer, if he bent to rest his cheek just a little on the crown of her head, well…
If this was the only chance he was going to get to hold her in his arms, then he was going to cherish it.
“Oh, fuck.”
Her voice was soft, still rounded with sleep, and something in Cassian’s chest shattered when she moved, lifting her head from his shoulder and leaving him cold in her wake. She pulled back, his arm dropping from where it had rested lightly around her waist, and when she uncurled her legs and braced herself with the flat of her palm against the sofa cushions, he cleared his throat and tried his hardest to paste an expression of nonchalance on his face.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Nesta shook her head, running a hand through her hair, fingers tangling in the loose strands. He wanted to run his own hands through that hair, to feel it slipping along his knuckles. Yet her eyes were wide, like it horrified her that she’d allowed herself to be so unguarded. “I didn’t know it had gotten so late—“
“Nes,” he said, his hand reaching out to her before he could think twice, before he could stop and remember where the fuck he was. “It’s alright. I fell asleep too.”
She stilled. “Oh.”
And he could see it in her eyes, the way she second-guessed him like a wounded animal. The way she was recalibrating, trying to decipher how she should move forward. He softened, wondering what the fuck had happened to her to make her apologise for falling asleep against his shoulder. He reached for her again, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear and she stilled again, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. Oh, he thought as he let his fingers graze her temple, he’d kill whoever it was that made her so afraid of such easy intimacy.
Cassian had been so starved of touch after his mother died that he sought it wherever he could get it. He had been lucky, he supposed, that Rhys had never once shied from a hug, and Mor had never second-guessed throwing her legs over his lap and invading his personal space.
But Nesta…
At some point she had learned to close herself off, to think that such a thing was only a precursor to pain of some kind. He could read all of it in every line of her, in the way she refused to look at him when his dropped his fingers.
He wanted more than anything to show her how much she deserved such tenderness. How much she was worthy of love.
It was his turn to swallow now, his eyes fixed to hers as he leaned back against the cushions.
“I…” He trailed off, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. She watched him do it, sharp eyes tracking his every move, and though it was the last thing in the world he wanted, he said, “I can go, if that’s what you want.”
She paused, and he wondered if this was it, the moment where she asked him to stay. But quietly, slowly, Nesta said,
“It’s probably for the best.”
He nodded, rising to his feet in the dark. Outside the streetlights lit the road up in silver, the snow still glistening like a thousand shattered diamonds. His heart ached, like he’d come so close to having something precious and all he could do now was watch it slip away. But what else could he do? Demand that she let him stay? Ask forcefully why she kept pushing him away, when all he wanted was to be the one that she called whenever she wanted to watch a stupid fucking vampire movie?
The world felt off-kilter as he moved for the door. He looked back, saw Nesta still sitting on the couch with one knee beneath her, her head down and her hair forming a curtain around her face. He could have sworn he heard her take a deep breath, could have sworn he heard it shudder. Her fingers curled into the couch, and she didn’t look at ease, didn’t seem like a woman who truly wanted to be alone.
Cassian hesitated for all of three seconds before he turned around and walked right back to that sofa, sinking to his knees before her.
“Nesta,” he said softly.
She raised her face, her eyes meeting his with a snap that had him stunned. A furrow entered her brow, but still he remained there, like a man kneeling at the altar of a goddess, praying for her to let him in.
“Did you want me to thank you for the cake?” she whispered.
He couldn’t help the wry smile that curved his lips then.
“Anytime,” he said gently, and he wondered if she knew how earnest the offer was— that all she had to do was say the word and he’d come running, no matter what. She blinked, and their eyes connected again, the moment stretching towards forever. And fuck, he felt run through, like her eyes were blades.
“I just want you to know,” he added, his voice low in the dark, like if he kept his words to a whisper they might stop reality from creeping back in, “that I’m really glad you called me today.”
“You’re glad my car broke down?”
He rolled his eyes, ducking his head as a gentle laugh rolled through his chest. “God, you’ll never let me have it easy will you?”
And Nesta… she fucking smirked in the dark, and Cassian felt the air in his lungs seize up as he watched that smile curve the lips he so desperately wanted to kiss.
“No,” she said easily, straightening a little. He looked up at her, still on his knees, like this was the only place in the world he belonged.
Maybe it was, he mused, watching her run her fingers through her hair again. To see her like this - vulnerable, soft, without all of the armour she donned whenever she stepped out of her front door - was a privilege, an honour, he would never forget.
There was a moment of silence, and the air between them felt heavy and weighted, like it was getting tangled in all the things they left unspoken. Cassian wanted to tell her how much he regretted that first meeting, when he’d flirted so shamelessly with her before falling into the exact same pattern with Mor; wanted to tell her how much he wanted, how every time he saw her he was struck dumb with a longing so complete he hadn’t quite figured out how to breathe around it yet. And when she looked at him, for half a moment, Cassian thought she wanted to tell him to stay.
“I should go,” he said softly, rising to his feet when she didn’t make a move to stop him. She nodded, entirely silent as he made for the door.
Only when he reached for the polished front door handle did he hesitate.
“Wait,” she whispered from behind him, standing six feet away. His heart thumped in his chest, his entire body seeming to tremble with want. “Cassian…”
He turned, hardly daring to shatter the moment with speech as he watched her hesitate.
Her eyes connected with his, her lips parting. She swallowed again, and Cassian felt the world slow around him, like time suddenly moved like syrup.
“Stay.”
One word— just that one, singular, word was enough to make everything still.
He didn’t move. Couldn’t.
“You never want me to stay,” he whispered.
Please want me to stay.
“I do now,” she said quietly.
And suddenly Cassian was walking forward -striding, really - with enough purpose that his boots echoed on the hardwood floor. He didn’t stop until he stood right before her, his chest almost brushing hers. She didn’t retreat a single step, held her ground as he reached out to brush his fingers down the side of her arm.
“You’re sure?”
Nesta nodded slowly. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
He couldn’t help the grin on his face then, the way the entire world seemed to light up. He was reaching for her with more purpose now, more meaning, his hand curling around her waist and pulling her forward, holding her against him as her fingers laid flat on his chest. His other hand was sliding up her spine, cradling her head as he breathed her in, moving slowly to make sure she wanted him to—
Before he could so much as ask if he could kiss her, Nesta had claimed his mouth as her own. Pushing onto her tiptoes she pulled his face down to hers, their lips meeting in a clash of tongue and teeth and—
His mind was blank, like his entire world was re-centering, recalibrating around the woman in his arms.
It was a kind of madness, her kiss, the kind he never wanted to end. He chased her lips, fighting back a groan as her nails curled into his hair, slid down to his neck. He was breathless, so utterly breathless, and yet it didn’t matter, because what need did he have of oxygen when he had Nesta fucking Archeron pressed against him, so warm and so supple, her breath hitching as he dragged his thumb across her waist?
He could die here, he thought as her teeth nipped his bottom lip.
He was going to die here, he thought as she tore her mouth away and tilted her head back, letting him pepper her jaw and her neck with the thousand kisses he’d thought about every day since they’d met.
She breathed his name, stumbled back against the wall, and Cassian shoved his hand between the wall and her spine so that his knuckles took the hit. The pain was a footnote, entirely inconsequential, and he drew her deep into his lungs as he fought for breath, letting his forehead rest against hers as her fingers twisted in his shirt, right above his heart.
“Oh, fuck,” Nesta whispered, and Cassian let out a laugh that lingered in the air between them— in the millimetres between his face and hers.
“Yeah,” he echoed, his breathing laboured. “Fuck.”
Because there was no going back from this. How could there be? A line had been crossed, incontrovertibly. She looked up at him, lips still swollen from his kiss, and she smiled, and Cassian felt his heart shatter and reform and shatter all over again because how could he ever hope to go back to normal after this?
She had decimated him with a single kiss.
“Still want me to stay?” he asked.
Her fingers tightened in his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.
“Yes,” she whispered.
And Cassian grinned as he slid a hand down her side, fingers dancing along her hip as her breath hitched again. God, he couldn’t wait to figure out what else elicited that kind of reaction— what else he could do that made her breathless. He leaned in closer, pressing a single kiss to her collarbone.
“Maybe I should’ve brought mistletoe instead of tinsel,” he muttered against her skin.
Nesta batted at his shoulder. “I hate you.”
He grinned, nipping at her skin. “Sure you do.”
She rolled her eyes, but nevertheless threaded her fingers through his and pulled him back into her living room.
“Fuck you, Cassian,” she said easily, and he was dragged back to that moment in the car that afternoon, when she’d said the exact same words and he’d winked at her and watched her blush. He grinned again now, nudging her nose with his own as he pulled her close again, his hand finding the small of her back.
“Mhm,” he hummed, skimming his nose across her cheekbone. “Maybe you should.”
And when she rolled her eyes again - endearing, this time - Cassian couldn’t help but think of how lucky he was. The snow outside began to fall again in earnest, and in that darkened living room, with nothing breaking the silence but the sound of his own heart beating in his ears, he kissed her again and wondered how on earth he’d got so lucky.
“Hey Nes?” he breathed in the dark, feeling her fingers between his own and wondering if this was it— the moment his life really started to matter.
She hummed, looking up at him with eyes that made him dizzy. He grinned, ducking his head to nudge her cheek with his nose. Her fingers curled tighter around his, and that single gesture - so small, so seemingly inconsequential for anybody else - made him grin, his blood alive as it rushed through his veins. He pulled her closer, held her tighter, like he was afraid to ever let her go. Slowly, he pressed a kiss to her temple, the heart in his chest bursting as her eyes slid closed.
My Christmas Would Suck Without You- A Nessian Christmas story
Hi giftee! @jellybeanjellyfishblog It's me, your secret Santa from @acotargiftexchange I told you I'd have it ready for you and I always keep my word. Before we get started, I wanted to introduce you to the OC who's been helping me. Her real name is...
ESTER!
Ester: Hello.
You can find out more about her in my other posts. Alright, now it's time for you to enjoy your gift. Merry Christmas.
"Are you sure you don't wanna spend the holidays with your family Nes?" Nesta holds back a groan at Gwyn's voice from the phone. Nesta was a hard working woman with 2 underpaid jobs, 3 pets, and a rundown apartment that barely keeps the water running. She also has a family who hates her. Well, hates a strong word. More like a mother and father who hate her and 2 younger sisters who'd rather spend the holidays at their boyfriends rather than see her. Nesta didn't know whether to visit Feyre or Elain but she knew she never wanted to see her parents. Her useless drunk of a father and a psycho of a mother. The only thing she wanted this Christmas was to spend the holidays alone with her 2 dobermans and black cat.
She did have plans though. This year, her new best friends, Emerie and Gwyn planned to spend Christmas with her at Emerie's new store. They were gonna drink til their was no more vodka, read til the words in the books made their eyes wobbly, and even sing cheesy Christmas songs til the neighbors threaten to call the police. Yes, Nesta had a whole holiday plan, but it all went up in smoke. Literally.
Just around the beginning of December, Emerie's shop had burned to the ground due to a firework show gone wrong by a bunch of teenagers. Emerie had been fixing it up all month and while the people made plans to help, they weren't gonna finish it in time by Christmas. As for Gwyn, she had fallen in love with Nesta's brother in law Azriel, the only person in the family who actually sees her as a person. While Gwyn wanted to help Emerie and be there for Nesta, they both wanted her to be happy and told her to go with Azriel for a wonderful Christmas at the House of Wind.
So yes, Nesta did have plans. But now, she had nothing.
The lone blonde gently grasps the black cat's ear from the couch. "I told you Gwyn, I'll be fine. I have Cinnamon, Chestnut, and Salem with me in the apartment." Nesta replies, her pets perking up at the sound of each of their names. "The 4 of us will have a fun time together." Nesta tried to sound cheerful, even forcing a smile on her face even though Gwyn couldn't see her. Gwyn hummed from the other line before giving in. "Alright, but please don't hesitate to call me or Emerie. You know we'll come to you whenever you need us." And that's what frightened Nesta the most.
With a timid goodbye, Nesta hung up the phone and slumped on the couch with a long dreadful sigh. "Fuck me. And Christmas." The blonde mutters, the dobermans resting their heads on her knees to provide her with any comfort necessary. They let out soft whines, expressing the sadness that Nesta for the life of her couldn't hide from her pets.
Around the time when Nesta had gotten her apartment, she stumbled around a cardboard box on the side of the road. When she peeked inside to find Cinnamon and Chestnut as puppies. They were small, weak, and only a few weeks old. They'd huddled together for warmth, shaking like fallen leaves and their whimpers only made Nesta's heart break further. But the most revolting part wasn't the abandonment. It was the note that was left behind with them. She still remembered the words clear as day:
Too loud
Too loud. Too small. Too weak. Too annoying. Too honest. Every single vein in the blonde's body boiled with rage. If she were to ever find the person responsible for this, she would save a special spot for them in hell.
With a new determined fire building up inside, Nesta accepted the two troublesome dobermans into her home. She did not have much and her job was certainly underpaying her. But she never regretted her decision not one bit.
Her decision to take in Salem however...
That little black menace was found ram-shacking the apartments looking for food and hissing at every human that came in its way. One night, Salem thought it'd be a good idea to search Nesta's apartment for any cat treats. Unfortunately, the cat only found a tired pissed off blonde and 2 puppies. Salem escaped but it came back every night hoping to find more food. Eventually, after Nesta had given her the best meal of her life, she decided to make this ramshackle her permanent residence. Still, she never hesitated to revert back to her feline natures.
The woman refused to resist the urge to gently ruffle Cinnamon's head. "It's okay girl, I got you, your brother, and a cat from hell." Nesta can hear Salem hissing from the kitchen. "Don't give that shit Salem, you know you knock over everything on the counter." Salem shows no shame in what he does by doing that same gesture to an empty plastic cup. Thank god this Salem was real and not an animatronic from that teenage witch reality show.
Speaking of reality shows,
Nesta was about to reach for the remote, wanting to take her mind off of Christmas all together when she heard a knock on her door. The dobermans perk up their ears while Salem hisses at the door. "I don't open the door for Christmas carols."
"Aw, and after I practiced and everything." If Nesta was eating something, she would've been choking on it right now. She knew that voice all too way.
Cassian.
Cassian was the brute who just happened to be her brother in law. The brute who happened to be apart of her family. The brute who just won't leave her the hell alone. Nesta didn't move from the couch, hearing him sigh from the other side. "C'mon Nes, don't leave me out here in the cold." Cassian whines, the blonde rolling her eyes. "This is an apartment. You're in a building."
"Don't leave me out here in the dark." It took Nesta a minute to remember that the landlord still hadn't called the electric company to help with the lights. "I'm sure that you brought a jacket."
"Don't make me sing Mariah Carey." At this point, Nesta already knew that Cassian was smiling from ear to ear. She personally didn't think the song was bad. They just kept playing the damn song over and over again. If she heard one more station blast that song on the bus ride to work, she was gonna burst.
Knowing all too well how this ends, Nesta finally admits defeat and rises from the couch, her dobermans trotting with her as she opens the door. There he was, with the goofiest smile on his face wearing an oversized green sweater with groceries in his hand. "I knew that was gonna work." Cassian says as the doberman bark and yip at the arrival of Cassian. Nesta's pets have seen him before and have their own opinions on him. In this home, it was 50/50, with the dogs all but loving the presence of another human being and Nesta and Salem glaring daggers at the intruder.
"So, are you gonna help me or..." The big brute said struggling to pet Chestnut while making sure not to drop the groceries on Cinnamon. Reminding her to do this for her dogs, Nesta grabbed one of the bags and allowed Cassian inside, closing the door behind him. "Aren't you suppose to be enjoying the family Christmas party?" Nesta asks as Cassian, being mindful of the hissing cat, gently placed the groceries onto the kitchen counter. "Yeah but they didn't have the good stuff and since it's you I figured hey you'd have the hard stuff." Nesta didn't know whether to be impressed with his taste or scowl him for assuming she could buy it.
Nesta gently nudged Salem off the counter before helping Cassian unpack his stuff. Eggnog, flour, cake mix? "You bake?" she suddenly asked him without thinking. Cassian nods, his proud smile still evident on his face. "Yep, just started last year. I wanted to do something new and it turns out, I make a mean chocolate cake."
"Yeah right." Nesta huffed to cover up a chuckle. But Cassian saw right through her. "Oh yeah, gimme an hour and you'll have the best chocolate cake in all of Prythian." Nesta considered it. She didn't believe Cassian could really pull off her favorite cake, but it would be fun to see him fumble and stumble a little. And she could always make him clean it up too. Plus, she didn't wanna admit it, but she was getting hungry. "Alright then, one hour. And if I don't like it, you have to eat the cake yourself."
"And if you love it, you have to give me a kiss~" Cassian smirked as Nesta didn't have enough time to cover up her gasp. That retched brute. Still, Nesta kept up the facade and held out her hand. Cassian didn't hesitate to grasp hers, the contact sending a shock through her system. A shock she never thought she'd feel again. "Deal."
My Christmas Would Suck Without You- A Nessian Christmas story
Hi giftee! @jellybeanjellyfishblog It's me, your secret Santa from @acotargiftexchange I told you I'd have it ready for you and I always keep my word. Before we get started, I wanted to introduce you to the OC who's been helping me. Her real name is...
ESTER!
Ester: Hello.
You can find out more about her in my other posts. Alright, now it's time for you to enjoy your gift. Merry Christmas.
"Are you sure you don't wanna spend the holidays with your family Nes?" Nesta holds back a groan at Gwyn's voice from the phone. Nesta was a hard working woman with 2 underpaid jobs, 3 pets, and a rundown apartment that barely keeps the water running. She also has a family who hates her. Well, hates a strong word. More like a mother and father who hate her and 2 younger sisters who'd rather spend the holidays at their boyfriends rather than see her. Nesta didn't know whether to visit Feyre or Elain but she knew she never wanted to see her parents. Her useless drunk of a father and a psycho of a mother. The only thing she wanted this Christmas was to spend the holidays alone with her 2 dobermans and black cat.
She did have plans though. This year, her new best friends, Emerie and Gwyn planned to spend Christmas with her at Emerie's new store. They were gonna drink til their was no more vodka, read til the words in the books made their eyes wobbly, and even sing cheesy Christmas songs til the neighbors threaten to call the police. Yes, Nesta had a whole holiday plan, but it all went up in smoke. Literally.
Just around the beginning of December, Emerie's shop had burned to the ground due to a firework show gone wrong by a bunch of teenagers. Emerie had been fixing it up all month and while the people made plans to help, they weren't gonna finish it in time by Christmas. As for Gwyn, she had fallen in love with Nesta's brother in law Azriel, the only person in the family who actually sees her as a person. While Gwyn wanted to help Emerie and be there for Nesta, they both wanted her to be happy and told her to go with Azriel for a wonderful Christmas at the House of Wind.
So yes, Nesta did have plans. But now, she had nothing.
The lone blonde gently grasps the black cat's ear from the couch. "I told you Gwyn, I'll be fine. I have Cinnamon, Chestnut, and Salem with me in the apartment." Nesta replies, her pets perking up at the sound of each of their names. "The 4 of us will have a fun time together." Nesta tried to sound cheerful, even forcing a smile on her face even though Gwyn couldn't see her. Gwyn hummed from the other line before giving in. "Alright, but please don't hesitate to call me or Emerie. You know we'll come to you whenever you need us." And that's what frightened Nesta the most.
With a timid goodbye, Nesta hung up the phone and slumped on the couch with a long dreadful sigh. "Fuck me. And Christmas." The blonde mutters, the dobermans resting their heads on her knees to provide her with any comfort necessary. They let out soft whines, expressing the sadness that Nesta for the life of her couldn't hide from her pets.
Around the time when Nesta had gotten her apartment, she stumbled around a cardboard box on the side of the road. When she peeked inside to find Cinnamon and Chestnut as puppies. They were small, weak, and only a few weeks old. They'd huddled together for warmth, shaking like fallen leaves and their whimpers only made Nesta's heart break further. But the most revolting part wasn't the abandonment. It was the note that was left behind with them. She still remembered the words clear as day:
Too loud
Too loud. Too small. Too weak. Too annoying. Too honest. Every single vein in the blonde's body boiled with rage. If she were to ever find the person responsible for this, she would save a special spot for them in hell.
With a new determined fire building up inside, Nesta accepted the two troublesome dobermans into her home. She did not have much and her job was certainly underpaying her. But she never regretted her decision not one bit.
Her decision to take in Salem however...
That little black menace was found ram-shacking the apartments looking for food and hissing at every human that came in its way. One night, Salem thought it'd be a good idea to search Nesta's apartment for any cat treats. Unfortunately, the cat only found a tired pissed off blonde and 2 puppies. Salem escaped but it came back every night hoping to find more food. Eventually, after Nesta had given her the best meal of her life, she decided to make this ramshackle her permanent residence. Still, she never hesitated to revert back to her feline natures.
The woman refused to resist the urge to gently ruffle Cinnamon's head. "It's okay girl, I got you, your brother, and a cat from hell." Nesta can hear Salem hissing from the kitchen. "Don't give that shit Salem, you know you knock over everything on the counter." Salem shows no shame in what he does by doing that same gesture to an empty plastic cup. Thank god this Salem was real and not an animatronic from that teenage witch reality show.
Speaking of reality shows,
Nesta was about to reach for the remote, wanting to take her mind off of Christmas all together when she heard a knock on her door. The dobermans perk up their ears while Salem hisses at the door. "I don't open the door for Christmas carols."
"Aw, and after I practiced and everything." If Nesta was eating something, she would've been choking on it right now. She knew that voice all too way.
Cassian.
Cassian was the brute who just happened to be her brother in law. The brute who happened to be apart of her family. The brute who just won't leave her the hell alone. Nesta didn't move from the couch, hearing him sigh from the other side. "C'mon Nes, don't leave me out here in the cold." Cassian whines, the blonde rolling her eyes. "This is an apartment. You're in a building."
"Don't leave me out here in the dark." It took Nesta a minute to remember that the landlord still hadn't called the electric company to help with the lights. "I'm sure that you brought a jacket."
"Don't make me sing Mariah Carey." At this point, Nesta already knew that Cassian was smiling from ear to ear. She personally didn't think the song was bad. They just kept playing the damn song over and over again. If she heard one more station blast that song on the bus ride to work, she was gonna burst.
Knowing all too well how this ends, Nesta finally admits defeat and rises from the couch, her dobermans trotting with her as she opens the door. There he was, with the goofiest smile on his face wearing an oversized green sweater with groceries in his hand. "I knew that was gonna work." Cassian says as the doberman bark and yip at the arrival of Cassian. Nesta's pets have seen him before and have their own opinions on him. In this home, it was 50/50, with the dogs all but loving the presence of another human being and Nesta and Salem glaring daggers at the intruder.
"So, are you gonna help me or..." The big brute said struggling to pet Chestnut while making sure not to drop the groceries on Cinnamon. Reminding her to do this for her dogs, Nesta grabbed one of the bags and allowed Cassian inside, closing the door behind him. "Aren't you suppose to be enjoying the family Christmas party?" Nesta asks as Cassian, being mindful of the hissing cat, gently placed the groceries onto the kitchen counter. "Yeah but they didn't have the good stuff and since it's you I figured hey you'd have the hard stuff." Nesta didn't know whether to be impressed with his taste or scowl him for assuming she could buy it.
Nesta gently nudged Salem off the counter before helping Cassian unpack his stuff. Eggnog, flour, cake mix? "You bake?" she suddenly asked him without thinking. Cassian nods, his proud smile still evident on his face. "Yep, just started last year. I wanted to do something new and it turns out, I make a mean chocolate cake."
"Yeah right." Nesta huffed to cover up a chuckle. But Cassian saw right through her. "Oh yeah, gimme an hour and you'll have the best chocolate cake in all of Prythian." Nesta considered it. She didn't believe Cassian could really pull off her favorite cake, but it would be fun to see him fumble and stumble a little. And she could always make him clean it up too. Plus, she didn't wanna admit it, but she was getting hungry. "Alright then, one hour. And if I don't like it, you have to eat the cake yourself."
"And if you love it, you have to give me a kiss~" Cassian smirked as Nesta didn't have enough time to cover up her gasp. That retched brute. Still, Nesta kept up the facade and held out her hand. Cassian didn't hesitate to grasp hers, the contact sending a shock through her system. A shock she never thought she'd feel again. "Deal."
Hello! The big reveal is right around the corner and I am so excited! Your gift is currently in three parts, so here I am to ask if you would like all three chapters at once or if you would like them spaced out throughout the week?
- 🧑🎄
It’s okay if they’re together or spaced out. I don’t mind the wait
Ho, ho, ho! Looks like Santa has a tiny little teaser for you to give you just a small taste of what your gift is shaping up to be!
So she frowned again, hoping it might get him the hell off her damned porch.
His grin only widened.
“It’s in the job description, sweetheart,” he quipped. “Besides, maybe you’ll be needing somebody with my particular skill set. You know, investigating crime and all that.”
“Oh?”
He hummed, leaning in and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Nesta could smell his aftershave, like pine and leather. He cast a sideways glance to the front of her door, quirking a single dark brow.
“Someone has clearly stolen all of your Christmas decorations.”
Hello there, giftee! December is so close now, and your gift is coming along so well so I am here to ask if you are interested in any snippets or small out-of-context teasers?
Also, I have a few seemingly random questions which may or may not influence your fic in some small way…
- who’s the bigger swiftie, Cassian or Nesta?
- what is your favorite Christmas song?
- aside from ACOTAR, what are some of your favorite books?
Looking forward to your answers!
- 🧑🎄
Yes! I love out of context teasers.
Bigger swiftie? Not sure what that is but I’ll go with Cassian
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU! (Is it wrong that I just imagine Cassian singing badly to this song writing this just so Nesta could wake up for Christmas)
Fourth Wing! An Ember in the Ashes series! From Blood and Ash series! Quicksilver! Throne of Glass! Crescent City! The Serpent of the Wings of Night series! Shadow hunters series! Shadow and bone! Six of Crows!
If you’re gonna add them all don’t worry, ik it’s a lot so just stick to the ones you know and read the rest on your own time.
Ho ho ho! I’ve been busy in the working away on your fic and I’m so excited with how it’s coming together! I’m curious if there are any side characters you’d like to see included too… the Valkyries, perhaps?
-🧑🎄
YES THE VALKYRIE SISTERS ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO JOIN!
Hello, giftee! I hope October is treating you well so far 🥰 I have been brewing up ideas for your fic and I think I have something, so my question to you is this: how much of your gift would you like to stay a surprise? Do you want to keep it all under wraps until the big day or would you like plot hints and snippets every now and then?
Also, in a modern AU setting, what kind of careers do you imagine Nesta and Cassian having?
-🧑🎄
I like hints that aren’t too revealing of the surprise.
Careers….thats tough. Let’s see….Cassian is easy, Nesta is hard. For Cass, probably a cop. As for Nesta, a bar tender. Cause I ran out of ideas.
I totally agree with you on both Nesta and Cassian’s character traits (especially for Cassian, we love a loveable idiot 🥰)
I think I almost have enough to start plotting out ideas but one last question: do you prefer to see Nesta and Cassian in an established relationship, or is seeing how they get together where the fun is?
-🧑🎄
Yes that is a very good question! Hmmmm
I think I’ll go with them having already met but definitely starting to fall in love with each other. Plus, it’s more fun watching Nesta try to run away from her feelings. So cute❤️
I am so excited to start cooking up ideas for your fic this year - to give the elves a place to start from, I'm wondering if you have any particular tropes that you love to read in fiction?
-🧑🎄
Fluffy
Happy ending
(Some) Angst (but the bad person gets what they deserve)
And to top it all off-
CAKES! I’m not a chocolate person but Nesta is so cocoa for her.
Helllloo!!! I'm so sorry it's been a long ass minute since I've posted on your gift fic. I'm almost done and plan to post at least one chapter for Nessian week next week! For a sweet treat, here's a peak:
“So that was your mother?” He asked, knowing the answer.
“It was. She was asking if I had a date to bring to her annual winter dinner.” Pink rushed into her cheeks, her gaze taking interest into the floor.
“And do you, Nesta?” He cleared his throat. “Have a date I mean.” Heat curled everywhere in his body, anticipation running its course through his blood.
“Well, I thought…” Sighing she shook her head. “It’s stupid. Nevermind.” Nesta turned away, heading to the dressing room when a force pulled her back. Cassian’s hand engulfed her arm as he brought her back to face him, their faces inches apart. “What’s on your mind, Sweetheart?”
She bit her lip, looking briefly away. It made his blood boil in all the best ways. “Sweetheart?” He asked quietly.
Omg so cute🩷 I can’t wait for Nesta to stand up to her mother! Please tell me some wine will be spill on a very white dress🙏
A/N: Hey guys. I know it's been a minute since I posted here but I'm back and ready to write. This is another LMK fanfic inspired by an artist with beautiful artwork. You can check it out from the link right here. Please enjoy
Wukong was a lot of things. He was obnoxious, rude, a hero, a weirdo. Pretty much what you'd expect from a monkey like him. But Wukong was about to meet his biggest challenge yet: Parenthood.
The Monkey King was on his way back to his mountain, having returned from 'borrow' some ramen from a very popular noodle shop. "Alright, lunch time is ramen time." he says, making his way through the water fall into his secret hideout. Wukong takes out the ramen, ready to open it up and eat it before he even sat down. However, just when his lips were mere inches from the delicious food, he notices a small basket laying in front of his door untouched.
"What the..." Wukong says, carefully placing the ramen back in the bag. He bends down, feeling around the basket but there wasn't anything inside apart from a dark purple blanket. "Who the..." Again the Monkey King stops short when he notices his door slightly ajar.
With his guard up, Wukong summoned his staff and slowly opened the door. "Alright whoever you are. You picked the wrong house to invade." The Monkey King creeps inside, closing the door behind him. He sees forgotten and dirty clothes all over the floor and couch, empty cartons of ramen on the coffee table, and the TV streaming Journey To The West. "Well, at least the living room's still intact. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook." He calls out the last part to whoever was in his house.
He hears a crash coming from the kitchen. Wukong smirks. "Gotcha." The Monkey King makes his way to the kitchen. "You're in for it now. When I get my hands on you, I'll-" What Wukong saw almost made him drop his staff.
Right before him, was an infant. He had tan skin and black hair and was playing with what appeared to be a kitchen pot from the cubers. He wore no clothes apart from a diaper. The baby, Wukong assumed was a boy, takes in the sight of him, his expression unreadable. Wukong tilts his head, the baby mimicking him. Wukong shook his head and summoned his staff away before cautiously making his way to the baby. He bends down. "Where in the world did you come from?" The baby didn't move or answer for a while before it unexpectedly started to giggle.
Taken aback, Wukong raised his brow. "You're not gonna talk are ya." he says, the baby boy raising his arms with excitement. Wukong widen his eyes. "Y-You want me to-" he didn't have to finish, the baby not taking 'no' for an answer. The Monkey King looked around as if someone was watching him before carefully locking his fingers in the leg holes of the infant's diaper.
The baby, now held upside down, continued to giggle to his heart's content. "Yeah keep on giggling. You won't be giggling so much when the blood gets to your brain." Wukong mutters, the baby not caring one bit. It was then that Wukong had just now noticed a very strong smell. He sniffs, making a funny face that making the baby laugh more. "What in the wide world of Buddha is that smell?" Wukong sniffs again, his nose leading him right towards-
It took every ounce of willpower not to drop the infant. The baby has a dirty diaper. And he was touching it. The Monkey King carefully placed him back down before quickly taking his hands out of the diaper. "Oh Buddha, what the hell was I thinking!?" he cries out, rushing to the sink to wash his hands. The baby mere dancing on his diaper, laughing and reaching his arms out to Wukong as if he wanted to do it all again.
Wukong, having finished washing his hands, turned back to the baby and groan. "Oh no. No more pick me us until that diaper is clean." The baby tilts his head. Right, he's a baby. Which meant...
