#anyway also thank you re: pain post compliment. and also thank you re: getting to talk about pain mgmt again

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.

[imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper]

💫🎀💞

(I couldn't pick just one zbzbxn)

AHHH FELLOW GRIM <3 <3 <3 <3 THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! 💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

GOD this one feels so goddamn arrogant like even more than the compliment one lol but my favorite comment I’ve ever gotten (and I’m by no means asking anyone else to do this) was from someone who saw their trauma and their flaws and shit in a character in my fic and commented telling me about it and how MY GODDAMN FIC of all things was helping them to work through it because the way I wrote the character was something they’d never seen before and it really connected with them. I JUST-. Like I said I am NOT asking anyone else to get that personal, I don’t expect that much from anyone but I still feel like I have to shout it out because it is ENTIRELY the reason I am still fighting to finish that fic through the burnout even after abandoning it for an extended period of time. 

On a much more general note I always write about my blorbos and my very specific headcanons of said blorbos so anything like musing on my portrayal of my blorbos will send me into a flurry of hand flaps. 

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

I love that I always (sometimes unintentionally) make very flawed and very broken characters. In TMDORG Janus was once a very toxic and selfish person and literally killed someone (inadvertently but still) , Remus ran away from his long term partner and completely shut him out for a solid year and Roman is- well- was an arrogant jackass who’s too wrapped up in his own problems to notice when he hurts other people. My OCs and my portrayal of other characters are all so mean and co-dependant and nihilistic and do fucked up shit without thinking first and sometimes even with thinking first they do it anyways. There’s a specific scene I’m thinking of from a series of un-posted vignettes I wrote where there’s some very DEEP intense longing going on and its like: this is the culmination of at least three years of headcanons and about a solid month of struggle to write this scene in this fic in this series alone, right? I work up the nerve to reach out to a friend of mine to read it and they’re like “Yeah this is fucking creepy and bad” and it stung a little (a lot) because I hadn’t really been thinking of it like that. But I turned around and re-read it and agreed with them. It killed a part of me I think but another grew to take its place: it IS a little fucked up because these are deeply fucked up people I’m writing and I’M GLAD its fucked up. I love my fucked up little people. But also the flip side to that is that I LOVE that they can be all that but still be good and lovable and deserving of love and good things, they can bounce off eachother like fucking cattle going down a round pannel shoot for medical treatment and still love and care about and try their goddamn hardest to do what’s right by each other. Am I giving myself too much praise? Yes. But is this more about how I personally see my characters and not how they actually are? Also yes. 

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

100% the characters above all else, I write dreadfully slow painful character explorations and nothing else LOL. I do always try to make sure that something HAPPENS IE the “Murder mystery” in TMDORG or a better example of what you’re usually gonna get the slow build of a relationship in my most recent baby MWBEYH but exploring characters and their relationships is where my heart lies and is the reason I come up with stories and write them in the first place. I get an idea about a scenario or a very specific headcanon and I have to put the characters into the little Webkinz movie maker (side note you couldn’t say root beer in that stupid thing and it pissed me off SO MUCH) with the right pieces and press play. Usually this is to my detriment LOL if you want an example of this in action look at TMDORG: Initially the plot was a much heavier focus and it was going to BE an actual murder mystery, the character’s screen time/focus was going to be a lot more balanced but I got super caught up in the very very fraught relationship between Janus and Remus in the world I’d made and WHOOPS everything else fell to the wayside. Hopefully in the future I will have actually written another one of my bigger pet projects that I can reference besides TMDORG lol.  Thank you again! :)

[idjitlili]

You're dead lachance.

Spike btvs x reader

Summary: Being Giles niece, going to America with him, only to meet Spike. There is anonymous request in here, 'getting locked in a room with Spike.'

A/n: slightly in Sundale , but mostly based in Los Angeles, the reader is British, due to being related to Giles. Hey, that's good for me , I'm British too. There's a request from anon but I'm not going to say to keep it a surprise. Malteser is a chocolate ball. How come I can write this much now? But I've got assignment s at are only 2000k words.

Word count:5019 Longest imagine yet.

Warnings: Language, Twilight hate references,period, questioning if vampires eat that answer is no or unconfirmed.

Not even a week ago, you had came home , only for your parental figure to rush to the door to greet you. Not long after that you were packing your suitcase for America , apparently your uncle Rupert had invited you out there. It had quite literally been years seen you had seen him, but not long until you would again.

In fact , it hadn't been even twenty four hours , before you were stood in his magic store. You weren't even sure why Rupert had brought you here. The suitcase that held your belongings , stood at your feet as Rupert  had welcomed you in, unlike your uncle had expected , the shop was completely empty, people wise.

Forced to sit down, while Rupert  made you a tea,informing you that he would get you settled at his home once he finished closing up his shop. What it felt like hours to you ,waiting, deciding it was best to read the book you had brought with you, not that you could really concentrate you just wanted to get cleaned up , in honesty.

Fingers tapping against the pine table , trying to read Boromir's last moments in Lord of the rings, re reading the same paragraph over , and over. "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo ' , he glance strayed to his fallen enemies,20." Re reading those words same words, unable to comprehend them, like your brain was blocked by a tinfoil hat, that's bullshit. Three arrows he had been struck with, yet he was still able to kill twenty highly trained orcs , more than an average vampire could do.

You were no stranger to vampires , you hadn't encountered one to say, but you knew of Rupert  job as a watcher. Though you had watched Lord of the rings many times (or not it's just replace it) and yet you still couldn't pass it , didn't Rupert have workers to clean his shop? Repeating those words , still. "Hello ,love." You almost peed yourself , standing up abruptly launching your book at the thing that had pulled you out of your distracted book reading.

Bragging your lighter from your pocket, self defence lighter, holding in front of you. As the flame lit,lifting your head up at your 'attacker' , only to be met with a smirk and platinum leather wearing man, who had caught your book with ease. "Really a lighter?" British, you had not spoken to one American , since landing.

You had just continued to stare at him not quite certain what to say, until he did again. "So , Boromir ,hm?"  You hadn't notice him step forward , holding your book for you to take back, hesitating you took it from him slowly. "Uh, yes. Thank you,but ,um, who are you?"

"Spike, and you are?"Who names there son after a sharp object? Spike had smugly smiled , placing his in his trouser pockets, it was if he was proud. You didn't get a chance to respond to Spike, before Rupert had reappeared , standing between you and Spike.

"Spike , get away from my niece, I will not allow you to corrupt her." Spike had gasped dramatically, putting his had over his mouth ,"You're related to him? But Blimey he's all ARGH and you're not." Spikes face of disgust when he looked at your uncle, Rupert had removed his glasses and began cleaning his glasses.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Picking up your bags , as Rupert ushered Spike out of the shop, with you behind to lock up, it now being dark.  "It was lovely to meet you , Giles attractive niece.." "Y/n." "Y/n.." Repeating your name back slowly smiling , only if you knew he was an evil defective vampire.

"Quit the flirting Spike, she's not going to be here long." That was the last you saw of Spike , for now anyways. It wasn't even another 24 hours later , your uncle had sent you off to Los Angeles , to Wesley at Wolfram & Hart.

Wesley...you had seen him in years , since he left England. You being younger than him by some years , but you had been friends with him , being connected to Giles and all. You were brought to America to work for an evil law firm not your ideal future.

That was a year ago , not as bad as you had originally thought, Angel the CEO was indeed broody but he was trying to make a difference. In fact , the job paid very well, and all you did really read up on demons and sometimes view bodies for symbols and such.

Perhaps,yes, it did get quite lonely, it  wasn't like you had you mum to make you meals or anything. All you could have was calls from her now and then. Wesley was your friend; but he was too busy flirting with Fred. The others well, you weren't close friends, just friends.

Today was not a great day for you, first you had gotten to work  without lunch, forgotten a jacket, and Angel scheduled a meeting but you had fallen down the stairs three times. Ten minutes late, a huge bruise on your head , ruffled hair and clothing not looking very bodacious.

Knocking on the door to Angel's office three times gently , before waiting for his response to allow you in. Everyone staring at you , your face flushed with embarrassment. "I-I'm so sorry, you won't believe today has been horrible, I wouldn't have been late if I hadn't of fallen down the same stairs three times."

Heavily breathing from all the rushing, head aching like you had just hit your head falling down the stairs, Angel and the others looking at you with slight sympathy. "I've got to get a look at this muppet." That voice, you knew that that voice, until Spike had appeared from the corner of the meeting room , as you and Angel were about to walk into the room.

Almost bumping into Spike as you and him both met the door at the same time. You two would've bumped right into each other, but he passed right though you. Turning back around to see if you imagined that or not, turns out you didn't Spike was stood in front you , looking at you , with gaped mouth which didn't last long until he was smiling.

"W-what?H-how did y-" "Nice to see you again , love. Well, not long after you left I saved the world, and died. No need to thank me , love," Angel had coughed , pulling your attention from Spike charming smile he was sending your way, to him gesturing you to sit.

Spike had not decided to sit down , but to stand behind Angel at an Angel, one to annoy Angel which you could already see in his face , two to be in eye range of you. Not that he liked you , he full loved Buffy, for now anyways.

Angel had officially began the meeting , head-aching still, probably why you couldn't concentrate, concussion. All you could think was , wow Casper the friendly ghost, well you didn't know he wasn't , and that he was a vampire.

So lost in thought ,well no just pain , you didn't hear the calling of your name or snapping of fingers in front of your open eyes.

"Y/n? Y/n?" Only when there is a touch of a small hand on your shoulder , you realise , looking up to see Fred. "Yes, sorry. Um , I hit my head a bit too hard."

"Angel , she needs to go to a doctor. Her head is literally bleeding out , ""Yeah you should've sent her straight away, she fell down the fucking stairs, for a vampire with a soul , you have no compassion." Spike had interrupted Wesley, to criticise Angel.

You had a couple of days off last week , to visit your family, hence you hadn't seen Spike there before that. You had fallen off your chair when you had felt a hand on your shoulder, moving to see if that was Angel or Lorne, but it wasn't.

"Already on your knees for me?" Spike, staring down at you , smirking what a shock. "I'm not even on my knees, I'm on my butt. Plus what you want me to do mime."

"Okay, okay, Hon, let's go take to a doctor." Lorne had helped you up, as Spike had smiled Wider, as you both left, with some calls of sympathy's.

You only had to have you bloody head , in your hairline glued back together. Not surprising when there was blood dripping down your face like a waterfall. Other than that you were back the next day, carrying on your week like you would normally would.

Each week that went by Spike would come visit your office, mostly at lunch, knowing you didn't leave your office to socialise, only to use the bathroom. It had started with him using the excuse that he wanted to see how you were doing , after falling down the stairs, which was quite hard to believe,as he didn't seem like the caring type.

Then it he came to your office to tell you stories  about him saving the world and just recently , almost being killed by another ghost.

You hadn't even seen that when he entered your office he used the door by turning the handle, instead of going through it. Not at least until he had spooked you again ,placing his hand your shoulder squeezing it slightly.  Falling again out of you chair, probably would've smacked the back of your head on your desk.

If you weren't grabbed by your forearms, and were lifted back onto your feet, by rough hands... Spike had scared you to death again, yet this time he had saved your fall.  Pulling a arm from his, looking into his eyes, as you brought your hand to his cheek, your finger tips against his cheek bone. His skin soft, not how you would've imagined.

Cold.

His skin, cold , but now he isn't a ghost? So why does he feel like the other side of the pillow on a summer night. Moments go by ,not many , before you pulled away again. "Fred , s-she figured out how to bring y-you back?" Still wondering why he felt like ice,  also to hide the embarrassment that you had touched his face without asking.

"No, someone sent me some post,"  The distance between you two was more than close, your legs pressed against your desk, Spike's face barely inches away, he must've closed in on you. "Oh lovely,um have you had anything to eat yet?" He had smiled at you , with lust in glittering in his eyes , but not for what you might think, but hunger.

"I have not." Don't turn Edward ,please, no one wants that ,'Oh I'm sorry Bella but you might die if we fuck, because of my huge Thanos sized dick.' "Oh , well I've got , um, some sandwiches, that's if you want to share." You had gently made your way passed Spike as he nodded slightly suggesting we would share, to get into your bag, reaching for your lunch bag.

Both sitting at the sofa in your handing Spike a sandwich, as you held yours, facing each other, sitting on your calves, well Spike couldn't do that , if you know what you mean. Not long after you had reached for your flask , pouring it into your cup. "Tea?" Spike had grabbed the cup from your hand, drinking a fair lot down, before handing it back to you, mixture of crumbs and tea around his mouth. "You know how to make good tea, not those bloody Americans , milk first , bloody bullshit."

Before anything was said, Lorne had burst into the room , panic washed over his face. "Angel needs you both , quick honeys! We don't have time to spare." To say the least you were confused , never less you all headed to Angel's office and soon enough you were all, Angel, Spike, Fred, Gunn, Wesley, and Lorne were driving to a safe house. 'A rescue mission.' Apparently, you didn't even know who you were supposed to rescue, all you knew was you was all supposed to stay here until they arrived.

Sounded fishy , and you were right to think so, not long after you all discovered it was a trap. Probably just about a hundred vampires, were lurking around the property, waiting...

The floors creaking as you all walked across the the pine wood hallway, not to mention you had barely any fighting stills, all you held was a stake. The others well that ways a mixture of axes , and stakes. Sorry not only vampires in this house, spirits too. Spike had paired off with you , whilst the others did the same , you both walked into a bedroom, which was thick with mould and dust.

Not even one step in the door had slammed shut, Spike had immediately tried the door body slamming against , but it was no use. As you made your way to the window, "Spike.." BANG still going at the door , "SPIKE." Whisper shouting to him, gesturing for him to come over , once he had heard you.

"Vampires..." pulling you away from the window, out of sight." We need to get out of here, now."

"Where? we can't get out of here." Looking around the room there was no options. You don't even get to take a breath ; before the window is smashed in as well of the door, you are both completely circled , 7 vampires.  Before you know it they are lunged for you , gripping your stake tightly , as you fight  a vampire off , with struggle , god damnit. Where's David from lost boys, instead you are stuck with one that's never brushed it's teeth.

Finally stabbing it in the heart. Proof another one bites the dust. Now there was even more dust in this house. The rest of the vampires were dead, you didn't realise that Spike had taken on the rest with no struggle, turning to face you after dusting the last one, his face,his face. He was one of them, he had been dead this whole time , even when he was brought back.

"Y-you're a vampire?" Shocked was to say the least what you were feeling , he had turned back laughing lightly.

"What were you expecting? The Easter bunny?Did you think I was human? This whole time, oh love." It wasn't that you felt like you trusted him less after finding out but still, you're an idiot, no you are not.  "I thought you were because you are my food; Plus I thought vampires were evil?"

"I wasn't going to refuse a sandwich. I have Soul, love. For your information, I got it the hard way, not like that brooding bugger."

"Sorry, Can we go now?" Thus Spike tried the door again, it had opened, both of you rushed out and down the stars , out the doors to find the others in the car waiting , like it was a robbery.

Your lunches with Spike continued even months after finding out he was a vampire; yet now you packed enough lunch for the two of you. Though he could just have his blood, but no he wanted your food. In honesty he was lucky that you actually shared your food with him.

You were sure that Spike must've preferred the company of Fred over you, and there was a day that he didn't have lunch with you. Apparently he had went to see Buffy , yet he was back the next day, why he hadn't stayed with the woman he loved , that was unknown to you. Thus there he was having lunch with you everyday you were at work.

You had even watched Lost boys with him one lunch. "You think I'm like that ponce?" Why the offices had TVs you had no idea. You had told Spike that he had reminded you of David. "W-what, It's not that hard to believe , first both of you have cool hair , two he is evil but the evil that you're like wow he's not that bad , he's cute and maybe he not what he seems. Like Loki, God of mischief." Spike had scoffed, laughing slightly.

"Did you just call me cute? I'm bad , I'm evil, mortals quiver under my wrath." He had made a toothy scrunched face , whilst bringing his hands up like he was a bear attacking, only to make you grin harder. "Okay, now you are a kinky Loki 'quiver under my wrath' seriously?"

"And how would you know what's kinky, love?" His words delivered with a smirk , that made your cheeks redden just by his gaze. "Uh,um, well I read a lot- I MEAN I do stuff all the time like last night.. he had a cane."

"Oh really, he had a cane?"

"Yep thats correct."

"Well that's a shame, love , because I've seen you face stuck in your books , blushing... and I can smell the innocence radiating off of you."

"Hey! Don't go smelling that, so you're telling me that when I have my period you can smell that too? You know what don't answer that, nor do I want to know if you've ever eaten that. Nor do I want to know why I thought of that.." Throwing a Malteser at him, would've hit him if he hadn't caught it in his mouth. 

"I cannot believe you just said that. Love, you have too much time over thinking."

"No doubt , that's why I was never popular , let's pretend I never said that thing and only that compared you to David and Loki, hm?"

"Of course, I wish you hadn't given me the idea,joking I swear."

"Uh, I don't know if you like men or not but when the male part is erected it's one of the most blood filled appendages plus I looked you up, William the bloody, maybe that's how you got your name.." Yes maybe you spent more than your lunch hour not doing work, sitting cross legged now facing Spike completely , who just had turned his upper body from the tv.

Angel though, you'd think he was just happy , happy that Spike wasn't in his office constantly annoying him. It wasn't easy for anyone to keep Spike entertained. "I do not suck cocks nor have I ever , love, I have nothing against those that do,but I assure you that my terrible poetry is the only reason for the name, "

"Nothing to do with you killing hundreds of people?"

"Oh yeah, that too." Nothing more was spoken, you both had went back watching until lunch was over, then you were back to work. By five you had left to go home , not even two hours later you had realised you had left your house keys in your office. You had went to the shops, for some general stuff , hence why you hadn't realised you had left your keys.

Making it back to Wolfram & Hart , around nine o'clock, deciding to get some food , for after you got your keys and got home finally. The security man, Dean, had let you , well no he had was turned doing something and you slipped in, the rest of the firm was dark , everyone had left, or that's what you had thought.

Opening your office door, with your key, why you had it separated from your house key , you don't know , but it was lucky you had one set otherwise someone could've went through your stuff. Well there wasn't much really interesting, ancient books and such. Rushing to your desk in the dark searching everywhere , under your desk, in the draws, the floor.

Finally finding them down the side of the sofa , which you were sat at with Spike, watching Lost boys. When the door swings open , you are quickly grabbed by the foreman's and are shoved against the wall."what are doing here?" The mans voice, aggressive, yet you know who it belonged to, Spike. No very difficult to figure out as you spent at least an hour with him , five times a week, for months.

"Uh, I just left my keys." Spikes grip had loosened on your arms slightly. " Y/n?" Pushing him off of you,"yes, yes it's me , thanks for attacking me, " It was pitch black in your office , only the light from the moon , now on your face , part of it anyways.

"Well, Bloody hell, love you shouldn't be in an evil law firm by your lonesome , especially at night."

"What you are going to eat me now?" Spike wasn't even a foot away; if he was a live you'd feel his breath on your face. Instead the cold air surrounded you, Spikes arm above your head closing you in, only being able to look at his face , an outline of it. "Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you,pet?" You had scoffed lightly at him.

"Shut up, my foods getting cold , and I don't like it in here." Ducking under Spikes arm, grabbing your food and key, before making your way out your office and the building. Spike following you ,but the security guard was gone and the door was locked , no way out.

"Well isn't that bloody brilliant."

"There's no way we are getting out of here , till morning ,"

"Can't we call someone?"

"I don't know , do you have anyone's number?" That was it , you both had headed back to your office , found some candle, since the electricity had been turned off, at on the floor with your food. You weren't sure why he decided to stay with you , maybe it was just that you had food.

Your back against the sofa , as you both ate , you were in no doubt that you were talking tomorrow off. You knew you or Spike was going to have to sleep on the sofa, ah yes perfect, back pains. "Why were you here so late anyways?" After finishing your mouthful of food, why Spike would want to lurk here at night , that was unknown.

"Just snooping through Angels stuff, then I heard you, so."

"Ah, of course." Smirking at you , leaning back his palms behind him, sideways on from you, uh , you're not Ryan Reynolds? Actual um, sorry but you're hotter. Your food all gone , except the small amount of drink left.

"Honestly this couldn't be a better day, my keys fell down the side of the sofa , and I didn't realise until I went home. Then this happened , and now we are stuck here, when I could be at home, sleeping."

"It's not so bad, you could've been stuck here with Angel, love."

" You really don't like Angel, I'm not surprised he makes small problems seem unsolvable. Yet within a couple of hours , all is fine. Actually that sounds a lot like me, over thinking everything. But yeah Angels is a bit of an arse."

Spike only smirking at you, in return.

Glancing at your watch , 12:03 , you were only lucky that Spike was able to pick the lock on the toilets. Otherwise you don't know what you would've done, ah yes, peeing yourself in front a rather good looking , dead man. Leaving your office to go pee again , before returning rubbing your eyes as you walked through the door.

"Are you going to get some sleep, love?" Spike had cleaned up all the rubbish, throwing it all away, you wouldn't expect that from dead guy, former mummy's boy. "Uh, if the sofa wasn't built like a rock, yes , but since that's the case no." Settling back onto the floor, careful not to catch on fire, as you crossed passed some of candles.

Instead of Spike replying yet , he had stood up and made his way to the sofa , plopping himself onto it, with poof. "You got to be joking love , you clearly never have lived in a crypt." W h at was it wish vampires living in crypts , or complaining that their huge cold dick will spilt a human in half. Turning to face the sofa, not being able to see Spike, letting out a dry laugh.

"Yeah that doesn't convince me, are you just so old that you don't remember that every day at lunch that I sit on that sofa with you?" Spike had sat up to look at you with a glare ,yet again scoffing. "Well then , Pet, how about you come lay on me, I'm very comfortable."

Without thought you had gotten up , and thrown yourself onto Spike, both groaning as your back slammed into Spikes chest. He was lucky really that your butt bone , not tail bone, the top of your leg one, didn't smash into his parts. Instead he had wrapped around you so you were stuck in place. "I see what you are doing."

"And what is that?"

"I body slammed you, now you're cuddling with me? Mental , you're an ice cube, yeahh sureeee so comfortable, I love being engulfed by Vanilla ice."  Not that he looked much like Vanilla ice but it's a little funny, not really but.

"Hey, I won't stand to be your cushion , with your bullying."

"Didn't you kill hundreds of people? And you get defensive when I call you Robert van Wrinkle?" Turning your head to look up to Spike who was looking down on you, shuffling so that you were laying next to the sofa back and on Spike with your hand on his chest.

"Love,I'll eat you, try sleep." This isn't a Loki imagine when he kidnaps you and it turns out he's a vampire , and he gets busy and drinks your blood for a fetish. Spikes arms around your shoulder , eventually falling asleep with your head on his chest.

Everything was fine, until Wesley and the rest of them had came looking for you. As you was supposed to be in a meeting with them in the morning , so was Spike but they were worried for you.

"Couldn't they do that at home?"

"Can I poke them with a stick?"

"Ah yes, poke the mass murdering vampire , very smart ,Gunn. "

No consideration of being quiet, you both had been woken, it wouldn't be that surprising if Spike was pretending to be asleep , to avoid talking to people he didn't like very much except Fred.

Waking up to see a bunch of people just smiling at you at , wasn't the best. "So, Spike what about Buffy?" Sitting up ,before standing up from Spike, must've hurt having a whole body on you all night , maybe it didn't effect him because he has super strength? Spike just turned to sit on the sofa , unimpressed facial expression, hunched.

"Buffy has her own life, I'm not apart of it."

"I-is this all you came her for? To wake us? And   taunt? I'm taking the day off ," No uncertainty that you wanted to get home, and shower and eat. You had looked back at Spike who had looked back , standing up. "I'll drive you."  Grabbing your bag, before bow in front of Angel for whatever reason. "Thank you so much for locking us in an evil law firm all night. Bye Fred, Wesley, Gunn , Lorne."

"Bye hon." Lorne was always a sweetheart , wishing that every guy was like him, kindest soul and very much cute. Spike and you had left after you had sent Lorne a smile. Walking out with bed hair and day old clothes , not that Spike had offered his arm but you were still holding onto to walk.

Walking past Harmony, she had sent daggers your way, why doesn't she just kidnap Orlando Bloom or something. Gripping onto Spikes arm tighter , walking down the stairs, not falling this time, thankfully. Before you made it to Angels' car park, and got into one of this favourite cars. "Uh, are we supposed to be taking Angels car?"

"What? It's mine, love, what are you going on about?" Opening the the car door at the same time , settling in the seats before slamming the door shut. The windows of the car , made from the same glass that wolfram & Hart was supplied with, since the cars were supplied by wolfram & Hart for Angel, a vampire. That also meant that Spike could drive in the sunlight protected.

"Okay, okay." Once you had made it into your building car park, Spike had walked with you up to your door. Being finally able to unlock your door, with your shopping ,lucky there wasn't any fridge nor freezer items. Turning back to Spike who just stood at your door, grinning slightly.

"T-thank you for staying with me yesterday, and for driving me home." A small blush upon your face, it wasn't unknown to you that you had developed a crush on Spike , how couldn't you? "That's alright ,love." Still stood in front of you, looking into your e/c eyes , you staring into his brightly lit blue ones. He was waiting for you to say or to do something.

Leaning to the side of his face, to press a peck onto his pale toned cheek. Instead of course , he had turned and you ended up pressing your lips , onto his briefly. Pulling away red cheeked , Spike now smirking at you again. "H-hey um, do you want to come and watch Lord of the rings with me?" You weren't sure what you was supposed to say after kissing someone accidentally.

"I would," thus that you held your door open wide, "I invite you into my home."

Therefore, you watched Lord of the rings with a dead man.

[juuls]

Podfics, podfics, podfics...

I'm looking to do some podfics of fics that have really hit me in strong (good) ways, and they're one of those I can't seem to track down in my usual manner (which is... probably on purpose, considering their received comments are set to be moderated and that they likely put up with a toooon of bullshit from people with Opinions.

(Keep reading to see which fics I'd love to podfic and why, and how you can help me find them!)

Also. Recs. Lots of really awesome fic recs, specifically for Tony-centric readers and those who really hit it off with Civil War Team Iron Man!

Does anyone know the Tumblr or Discord of: @TheSovereignofReality or @Wix from AO3?

Anyway, I'm a fan, and I just wanted to discuss maybe doing one podfic on a trial sorta thing, and then maybe doing a couple of my other major faves or a series of fics. As of my last major read-through of their fics, my favourite was definitely Mutantkind (this fic is so kickass, I love Logan). Not trying to spoil anything for any of this or the other fics, but taking up the chance at exploring the links between the X-Men and the Avengers (more Tony and even Pepper and Rhodey and such) was such a great move. A power move in so many ways, and I'm also really really eyeing the Transcendent Souls series that leads into the author's OC-linked series, Lennie Alice, and it all sounds like it's phenomenal and I just want to READ it, who cares about podficcing it??? I mean, I do, but most important of all: I'm just a fan who sees shiny fics all in a pretty series-row that I hadn't gotten around to yet (too busy reading Ramblings for the 10th time and wincing with each successive hit to the gut. Ouchies. But poor Tony too, woW. That one just hurts. In a cathartic way (even though I love Peggy, it's fascinating to explore these things!!)

Like Disney's "What If?" series if they weren't too scared to explore the really interesting things that make people tick and feel betrayed even decades later.

All of these authors, above and below, sure know how to throw those punches, and I like that.

I do have other podfic projects on the go, as well, yes, but spring is a great time for me and I get a lot of projects done pretty well on the regular. The Night King has been vanquished and the sun shines upon us again and offers me much Vitamin D and happy-stuff. :) :P

Doing a fic by @Wix would be awesome too, but I'm also not sure of their handle, unfortunately. Plus I've rarely spoken to them! Believe it or not, I can be shy. xD But there are so many of Wix's CW Team IM fics that I would just love to podfic and really sink my teeth into for the absolute wreckage and carnage that some of these characters would be feeling. Righteous anger, true anger, when you know you're right, when you just think you're right and the world crumbles down around you.... god I would love to really act those fics out and make people feel, just like we do and more when we're actually reading Wix's awesome body of work. It could be a real experience, and I would love to be able to help share that. All else fails, I'll just give these last two a message in their comments. ;)

And maybe @rayshippouuchiha might be interested in chatting with me about doing a (second) podfic of Hide a Heart of War? There can never be enough podfics of awesome Stuckony (or any ship, really), but I do also have my eyes on another few of yours that you don't have podficced, m'dear. :) I mean, Sore Must Be The Storm (wow, I relate to that title---and the fic itself---hard) would be really cool to do if the second chapter was up, (wing fics! CW Team IM! Woo!) Or the ever-so-classic "Assassination Attempts Are Not Flirting Toni" tag that epitomizes The Devouring of Hearts (which is hoestly epic and I am going to go re-read asap) or The (Not So) Great Pretender (it has a TextToSpeech podfic but those are hard for some people to follow along to --- I know my hearing issues mean I can't catch all of it, sadly, and none of it clearly! =/). Let's talk, if you're cool with me doing one of yours?? :) I would be so thrilled!

And @not-close-to-straight I cannot forget about you (ever) in this season of big eyes and planning out podfics all excited-like. Has anyone ever approached you about podficcing the entirety of your 3-part series Of Gods and Men that is ThunderIron, ThunderIron & FrostIron & Thorki, and then is PURE ThunderFrostIron with a super. special. twist. at the end omg???? Can we talk about that sometime? Whenever is good for you, if you're at all interested? Because there is NOT enough ThunderIron in the MCU, because I love Tony, because there is not enough FrostIron with Thor and Loki being awesome (usually), and then especially because there is NEVER enough poly ThunderFrostIron for my tastes and I just cannot when it comes to these fics. I just really would please love to podfic it, out of all your awesome fics this one just strikes right deep at the heart of me.

So. Um. Yeah.

This was going to be a quick "do you know this person!?!?! I'm desperate!" kind of Tumblr post, but it turned into me somewhat begging and complimenting at the same time, and it sounds totally shameless but I also haven't slept for about 48+ hours properly and I am in severe pain so the mania tends to be the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse with all that.

So. Yeah. Just let me know what you think, preferably via DM here or on Discord (Juulna#0508) or Ask or whatever. I'm happy however. And these are YOUR fics, I have zero claim to them whatsoever no matter how I may strongly relate to them or love them or think they should have their own awesome experience with me spitting angry lines back when required in response to pure sass. I would love to try/do it all. :) Spring and Summer is my podfic season, and I'm going to have a lot of fun with current and potential projects alike!

Ta, loves. And thank you for considering me for podficcing these awesome works! If you want a recent example of a fairly quick (and porny, hah) oneshot I did, I think you'd like what I did with @tsuki-chibi's The Shirt [fic]. Check the podfic out here, and then give the original author love because it is a DAMN FINE fic (and I want the shirt, hah).

[fanfic-me-up]

okay so i kinda got carried away with this one??? i just really love this idea and how freaking fluffy it is! so thank you for submitting it @peachy-yabbay​! 😊 also lowkey im sorta falling in love with kaminari?? like he’s so fun to write and i had a smile the entire time. anyway i rlly hope you enjoy!

Feel free to request more here. I write fics, drabbles, and headcanons 💖

Also, I have a yoga fic already posted with bakugou x fem!reader so if this doesn’t satisfy your need of bakugou being a flexible pretzel and failing you can read more here 😂

Bakugou Katsuki

THE STRUGGLE IS REAL

like Bakugou prides himself on going to the gym everyday, but he focuses on strength training and muscle building

the art of flexibility takes time, effort, and perseverance

he gets super frustrated when he can't get the splits in 2.5 seconds

“Careful or you might pull something.”

he ignores you ofc bc for some reason he thinks he’s gonna get the splits if he just - forces himself???

“seriously, Bakugou, don’t push so much-”

“Shut up I know what I’m - OW SHIT FUCKING HELL”

poor bby is on the ground cradling his thigh bc he pulled his hamstring

And lemme tell you THAT SHIT HURTS 😭

he’s literally screaming bloody murder

-like he’s faced a lot of pain from hero training but pulling your hamstring is just so. much. worse???

you grab an icyhot pack (aka you grab Todoroki lol) but Bakugou’s just like “hell no fuck off half n half”

“Must be bad. I heard you crying from downstairs-”

“I SAID FUCK OFF” Todoroki shrugs and leaves.

you roll your eyes at Bakugou’s stubbornness and grab some muscle balm instead

“Tch. I can do it myself” but you ignore him and rub the balm on his thigh, he doesn’t fight it

after that whole fiasco he finally listens to your warnings when you tell him that's enough

he’s in the splits in a little over a month!

“Oh my god, Bakugou, you’re doing it!”

“Tch. I know.”

you don’t miss the small smile on his face

he goes up to you later and shoves something in your hands

“Um. What’s this?”

“A movie ticket” you stare at it blankly, he rolls his eyes

“I’m taking you to the movies tonight, dumbass.”

“Like a date?” you stare up with hopeful eyes

“The fuck? No! As payment.”

you blink, clearly confused

“You know… for helping me with my stretches.”

Oh.

you blush in embarrassment at the misunderstanding

“I’ll meet you out front at 7. Don’t be late.” he walks off, but before he reaches the corner he stops-

“Ugh fine! It’s a date! Happy!?”

you erupt in the biggest smile

he wants to be the only one to make you smile like that from now on

Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki is impressed with how flexible you are, and you’re quite surprised when he asks you to help him

the most aloof - and handsome - guy in your class you’ve barely spoken TWO words to has come to you for help??? is this a dream? someone pinch you 👀

but there you are, the next day in his dorm, gently pushing his hips down

Todoroki’s working on his warrior/scorpion pose (ya’ll there's so many names for this pose jfc the one where you’re standing on one leg, back arched, and you’re holding the other leg above your head)

he’s sweating and breathing heavily, and when you go to steady him, you actually burn your hand on his bicep.

“Ouch!”

“Are you okay?”

he’s hovering over you the next second, you show him your hand, a blister already forming

“Damn it. I still have trouble controlling my left side,” he looks away from you, clenching his fists, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you blow cool air on the wound to stop the tingling, “all better,” you smile up at him

“Here, let me,” he pulls his shirt up to reveal his stomach and places your hand on the right side. You sigh in relief as your hand is instantly cooled.

Uh oh.

you realize where your hand is currently pressed against 😳

you’re so tempted to trace along the hard contours of his abs

“Y/N? You’re burning up.” he touches your cheek, your heart doing somersaults at the closeness

“Oh-kay, that’s enough for today!” you squeak, running away from a thoroughly confused Todoroki

Todoroki shows excellent progress in just a couple weeks. He says it’s because he has a great teacher, but you know it's his work ethic and how he listens to your advice and applies it flawlessly.

He’s even gotten better at controlling his left side since he’s constantly relaxing his muscles to get deeper in the stretch.

it happens during warm-ups before training

Class 1-A goes into some stretches when you see Todoroki go into a perfect scorpion. His back perfectly arched and his leg reaching above his head.

“Oh my god, Todoroki, you’re doing it!” you clap your hands in excitement

“Am I?”

...is this boy for real? lol

“YES” you laugh at his stoic expression

“I see.” He softly comments before going into another stretch.

your shoulders deflate, disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he cracks a small smile and your breath is taken away by the simple gesture. It’s rare to see him with such a soft expression, and the fact that you’re the reason for it sends your heart aflutter.

AND bc he’s totally oblivious to your current state, he goes up to you and whispers, “you’re an amazing teacher, Y/N”

“It was n-nothing re-really it was a-all you!” you laugh awkwardly, unable to meet his eyes.

“How can I thank you?”

“It-it’s really n-not necessary!”

“Hmm…” he walks away deep in thought and you’re just standing there like the stuttering mess you are bc how dare he walk away like nothing!?

Mina’s got your back tho bc frankly it's quite sad how awkward you are and how oblivious Todoroki is that she NEEDS to become the captain of this ship stat

She “casually” suggests to Todoroki that he should take you out to eat as a thank you for helping him.

and when he walks you to your door that night he says, “I hope you enjoyed our date”

“D-date?” cue the butterflies in your stomach

“Was it not a date?” You’re pinned by his intense gaze, but you manage to squeak out a “yes!” in your confused daze. He chuckles at your nervousness

“Have a good night, Y/N.” he kisses your cheek

and when you give Mina the details of your date there’s a bunch of squealing from her end and you’re just like 😳 the entire night

Kaminari Denki

“Woah, Y/N, you’re really flexible. Can you put your foot over your head?”

You show him and he’s totally amazed. “Cool! Can you teach me? I wanna put BOTH legs over my head!”

first day of stretching with Kaminari is… def a day you remember

“Ow ow! Y/N, don’t break me!”

“Denki, I’m not even touching you!”

He looks up where your hands are on your hips

“oh... heh” he gives you a sheepish smile

You roll your eyes. How you’re gonna get this boy flexible enough to put his foot over his head is beyond you, but you’re happy it’s going to take a while - it means more time spent with your crush

You spend an hour with Kaminari each day to perfect his stretching routine (It should only take about 20 minutes, but the boy’s got the attention span of a newborn puppy)

“Woah check out that cloud, Y/N.” Kaminari looks in awe at the sky. You sigh, not again

“Denki, we’re not done, get back in the stretch”

“Look Y/N,” he points, “doesn’t it look exactly like baby yoda?” He lies down on the grass to gaze at the clouds

“Oh my god, Denki, I’m gonna kill - oh wow…” you gaze up in awe at the cloud, “baby yoda…”

You and Kaminari spend the rest of the hour cloud gazing

After literal MONTHS of getting on Kaminari’s ass he can FINALLY put his legs over his head.

He calls out to you during a training exercise, “Y/N LOOK I DID IT!”

“NOT ONE BUT TWO!” he points at both of his legs with a huge smile

You feel a rush of happiness because even after how frustrated you were with him at times, you would do it a million times over if it meant getting to see such a pure smile.

“Congrats!” you say, “Now, stand up so I can give you a hug!”

“Um…” he sheepishly looks up at you, “I’m kinda... stuck?”

You roll your eyes affectionately, “the things I do for you.”

You’re about to help Kaminari when Bakugou shoves him backwards giving everyone in class a clear view of his ass in the air 😂

“Hah, dumbass.”

Kaminari waddles helplessly side to side

“Y/N?” he squeaks, “a little help here?”

Later that week he tells you he found a yoga class for both of you to take and you’re surprised. He still wants to spend time with you?

But then he says, “Are you crazy? Why wouldn’t I wanna spend time with the coolest person I know?”

You choke on your tea, in disbelief at his words - that was a huge compliment and you know Kaminari is a very open person so you just brush it off with an “Oh stop it…”

“No I’m serious, Y/N, you’re awesome. Like super awesome,” he gives an awkward laugh while rubbing the back of his neck

“I’ve been thinking… maybe after yoga, we can, i don't know... hit up the arcade or something? Or it doesn’t have to be the arcade, it could be anything really!”

You’ve never seen Kaminari this flustered before. He’s the type to brush off his mistakes with a laugh, always moving on to the next moment.

“No, the arcade sounds fun!”  

You reassure him and the confident light in his eyes returns

“Oh and Denki?”

“Yeah?”

“Prepare to get rekt in mario kart”

This starts a whole ass play fight about who’s gonna get dunked on when racing down rainbow road

[thewayshedreamed]

This Time— Part 2

A Nessian Fan Fic

Fic Masterlist

Alright, here it is! All of your responses to my first post were so encouraging, so I thank all of you for that! I was so nervous to post anything that I’ve written, and y’all made me feel so welcomed. Anyway, here’s the continuation of my angsty Nessian fic, This Time. It’s a long one, but I wanted to give some insight into Nesta’s headspace while also setting the occasion for the next part! Hope y’all enjoy it.

If you missed part one, you can find it here.

———————————————————————————-

A dull throb in her temples caused Nesta to stir in the early hours of Sunday morning. She was vaguely aware that it was raining, thunder rolling in a steady rhythm. She turned onto her back and gritted her teeth at the intensifying pain in her head. It suddenly radiated from her temples, meeting in the middle of her forehead and behind her eyes. For the briefest of moments, she wondered about the luck she had (or didn’t have) to wake up feeling like this. No recent illness, no allergies, no alcohol the night before. She blinked into the darkness as she considered, willing her cognition to catch up to her conscious state. Her answer became apparent when her eyes felt gritty as she blinked, and upon rubbing them, she felt a faint tenderness over and around her lids.

Ah, that’s right. The crying.

The events of the previous night flooded her memory.

I’m so gone for you...

You should go...

We can’t be friends after this conversation.

You don’t mean that...

The maddeningly soft click of the door echoed in her mind repeatedly, emulating the rhythm of her heartbeat. She slammed her eyes shut and turned sharply onto her side to bury her face into the pillow.

So often, people talk about the all-consuming relief that comes with waking from a nightmare and realizing none of it was real. These are the stories told at dinner with family or friends, at lunch with co-workers, or at larger social gatherings. Account after account is shared of cheating spouses, car accidents, home invasions, etc., followed by an expression of overwhelming relief at realizing it was all a dream.

Almost never do people discuss the ugly alternative. The micro-interval of time immediately upon waking where one exists in blissful ignorance, followed by the sudden gut-punch of recollection. The ambush of emotions surrounding some life-altering event.

Nesta caught herself grasping for that tiny shred of time, just moments prior, where she was only navigating a headache.

She felt her pulse quicken and her body start to flush, both being clear indicators of her heightened anxiety. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she felt a slight tremble starting to run through her chest and stomach. She closed her eyes as tears threatened to pool yet again and focused on taking a few deep breaths. She lazily reached out, feeling around until she located another pillow across her too large bed. She clutched it tightly against her chest and abdomen, willing it to ground her somehow. Tucking it close to her body and keeping an iron grip, she started to count her breaths until she finally drifted back to sleep.

———-

She had to cancel lunch with Elain and Feyre that Sunday, having slept long enough that she didn’t have enough time to make herself presentable. After explaining that she was suffering from a crippling headache (with no mention of its origin), they sent their well wishes and told her to call if she needed absolutely anything.

Her mornings persisted in a similar manner for the rest of the week. Usually one to rise on her first alarm, she couldn’t find the motivation to do so no matter how hard she tried. She snoozed her alarm a half-dozen times, finally dragging herself out of bed to dress quickly, grab a protein bar, and fly out the door for work.

Work served as a decent distraction from current events. She stayed busy and engaged, allowing her to completely ignore her phone and avoid any personal questions. She knew her sisters would be worried after telling them she was ill, and it was a matter of time before news of her and Cassian’s fight permeated their group of friends. Her sisters would likely put two and two together. Busy bodies. Fiercely loyal, protective, and supportive, but busy bodies all the same.

Several evenings that week she had received several variations of “check in” texts from them, as well as a couple of their friends.

Elain:

”Hey, Nes! Hoping you’re feeling better. Just wanted to check in and see how you are!”

Feyre:

”Just checking in, sister! I hadn’t heard from you since we cancelled lunch, so I hope you’re doing okay! Love you!”

Mor:

”Hi, love! I haven’t seen you in DAYS. Far too long. Please tell me I’ll see you soon! And that you’re alive and well. <3”

Amren:

“Alright. Spill. What’s going on with you? You haven’t responded to anything I’ve sent you, and I’ve sent you some funny shit.”

Nesta drafted one text, copying and pasting it to each and every one of them. She didn’t have the emotional energy to answer the question at all, much less several times over.

“Hey! Thanks for checking on me. I’m sorry I’m just getting back to you! Things have just been crazy this week. I’ve been busy, but I’m fine! We’ll get together soon.”

She stared at the lie over and over again.

I’m fine...

I’m fine...

Although, deep down, she knew. If she were fine, she wouldn’t keep scrolling to a certain text thread. She wouldn’t be reading and re-reading their previous conversations, and she definitely wouldn’t be focused on the date and time stamp of the last received message from days ago.

———

Nesta had been conflicted about Saturday all week long. She had very specific plans: sleep as late as her body would possibly allow, have coffee on the back porch, catch up on her reading, take a long nap, stream as much nonsense television as she could handle, have a bottle of wine, go to sleep. She had been looking forward to the peaceful oblivion of deep sleep, yet she found herself dreading the passage of her free time. It had taken a couple of days to land on an acceptable itinerary, and she felt better with a certain course of action.

She awoke to her covers being abruptly pulled away and the pillow pulled off the top of her head. She groaned dramatically and turned over to identify the offender, fully prepared to sling insults their way for interrupting her sleep. Before she could formulate a cohesive thought, a deep, familiar voice interrupted her.

“Enough of this, Nes. Get up. We’re going to brunch,” the voice announced, his tone dry and neutral.

Nesta’s eyes shot open, falling on a pair of hazel eyes that dared her to be uncooperative.

“What the fuck, Az? How did you even get in here? And what if I were naked?!”

”Look, I pulled the short straw. You’ve barely spoken to anyone all week. When you did, your responses were short and contrived. Your friends and family are worried, and I got volunteered to enter the lion’s den as the only one who isn’t afraid of waking you up.”

”That doesn’t answer all my questions,” she muttered as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I’ve driven you and your sisters home on enough drunken nights to know where your spare key is. And I saw the sleeve of your sweater before I pulled the covers off. Give me a little credit.” He turned away from her to walk out of her bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he paused with his hand on the door jamb. He glanced over his left shoulder as he said, “You have 15 minutes. I’ll be in here waiting for you.”

Nesta really contemplated throwing a full-scale temper tantrum by throwing herself under the covers and refusing to get up. A deep rumble in her stomach ultimately made her decide against it, so she stood up and padded over to her closet. She selected her favorite pair of jeggings, silently thanking the Cauldron that she had worn them once already so that they were perfectly stretched. She grabbed a sports bra and a long-sleeved tunic, put on some casual sneakers, and walked over to her bathroom to finish getting ready.

She wasn’t one for much makeup anyway, so she opted to wash her face, moisturize, and apply a little mascara. She brushed her teeth, applied a generous layer of chapstick, and quickly French-braided her hair down the center of her back. She glanced down at her phone; 12 minutes. Suck on that, Azriel.

She walked out of her bedroom, down the hallway, and found Azriel perched on the arm of her sofa, scrolling through his phone. Sensing her approach, he locked his phone and stood.

“All ready?” He grabbed his keys from his front pocket.

“Sure. Whenever you are.” She looked around for her small purse and grabbed it off of the coffee table. “Wait... did you clean up in here?”

She knew there was something different when she walked in, but it had taken her a minute to realize what. Gone were the take out containers from her countertops and coffee table. All the various cups she had left all over her apartment were nowhere to be seen, and her blankets were folded neatly in a stack.

Azriel cleared his throat and looked around. “Not really. I noticed your trash can was full when I threw my gum away, and I thought it would be pointless to bring it out and not get everything.”

She bit her cheek to stop her smile at his sheepishness. He had always been a good friend to her, but she knew he preferred when it went under the radar. No one blushed faster or got more awkward than Azriel on the receiving end of appreciation or a compliment.

“Ah. I see. And I guess the blankets folded themselves, then. Or did you need to fold them to ‘get everything?’”

“Nes, you know I cleaned up in here, so can we go already?” He was already turning toward her door, flustered and mildly irritated with her teasing. She gripped his bicep to turn him around before he made it outside.

“I’m sorry, Az. You’re a wonderful friend, and I don’t deserve you. Let’s go have some brunch and forget it, ok?”

He gave her a sideways smile and playfully shoved her shoulder. “Fine. But next time, you’re walking.”

———-

The drive over to the small cafe was short, so the pair sat in comfortable silence on the way. Upon arriving, Azriel found a small table in the corner of the patio, instructed her to sit, and walked inside to place their order. When he returned, he was holding a mug of coffee for Nesta and a mug of earl grey tea for himself.

“The food should come out in about 10-15 minutes. I couldn’t remember how you take your coffee exactly, so I just brought you a ton of shit.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a handful of different creamers and sweeteners in the center of the table.

Nesta gave a small chuckle at his gesture, noting that it felt good to laugh for the first time in days. She couldn’t help but feel grateful that it was Azriel who had pulled her out of bed this morning, if it had to be anyone. They were more alike than most would assume, and they had made very fast friends all those years ago. She loved the purity of their relationship, built on years of trust and mutual respect, but never crossing beyond anything other than platonic. Cassian had always joked about being “outnumbered” around the two of them, commenting on their likeness and how he managed to find kindred spirits as his best friends.

The thought of him elicited a slight pang in her stomach, and she quickly shoved it down. She was pulled from her thoughts by Azriel’s voice.

“So. You want to talk about what’s going on?”

”Gods, Azriel. I haven’t even gotten the caffeine in my system.”

He took a sip of his tea, only breaking eye contact to blow gently on the hot liquid. He regained eye contact as he set his mug back down.

“We haven’t heard anything genuine from you in a week. Forgive us for being a little worried. I’m assuming it has something to do with Cassian?”

As she suspected, hearing his name struck a nerve and caused a certain heaviness in her chest. She felt herself becoming defensive, and even though her logical mind knew it had nothing to do with Az, she was snapping at him before she realized it was happening.

“Why is everyone acting like I’m off the deep end?! Maybe I’ve just been busy for a week. Cauldron forbid if I take some time for my damn self. And why the fuck would you immediately jump to him? As if my life doesn’t exist beyond all of you? And beyond him?” She felt herself flush out of anger. Or embarrassment. Who the hell knew anymore?

Azriel seemed almost entirely unaffected by her verbal lashing. He took a couple of seconds, leaned forward with his forearms on the table, and clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at her intensely, and she knew she was not going to get anything sugarcoated in this conversation.

“Need I remind you that I know both of you like the back of my hand? I’m not shooting in the dark here. You’ve been essentially MIA for a week, and that timespan directly correlates with Cassian being an absolute terror to be around. The odds of that being a coincidence are incredibly low. So, Nes, I’ll ask you to please cut the shit.” He voice remained even and steady. There was no true malice in his words, just the bluntness that exists between two close friends. He picked up his mug, leaned back in his chair, and waited.

Nesta’s posture softened slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger. She let out a long breath and looked up to meet Azriel’s gaze again.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. And I should also realize by now that you notice fucking everything.”

He merely nodded, acknowledging her apology and prompting her to continue with one simple gesture. She blew out another breath, preparing herself to explain everything. In the meantime, their food arrived, so she waited until the waiter walked away before beginning her story. She told him everything, even the uncomfortable details. Cassian’s confession. Her reaction. His anger. Her anger. The devastation on his face. As much as she could remember of their interaction. And finally, the words she couldn’t stop replaying in her mind. This time, it’s on you.

He listened intently, only offering small nods or slight facial expressions during the more intense parts of their conversation. Once she was finished, he let out a long whistle and said, “Damn, Nesta. You’re officially the most savage of the Archerons.”

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I’m not saying that to be insulting. I just meant that you kind of handed him his ass there.”

Nesta started at him, urging him to elaborate before she felt inclined to jump down his throat again. He picked up on her prompting and continued.

“Well, to be fair, Cassian’s full of it. The fact that he thought he was going to be able to sleep with you and continue being friends is short-sighted at best. Can’t blame him for trying, but considering how long he’s been in love with you, he was setting himself up for failure there.”

Now, she was gawking at him. How was he being so nonchalant about this bombshell? How long had Cassian been in love with her? And why the hell had he waited until now to say a damn word about it?

”How long, Azriel?” Her voice was so quiet that she wasn’t sure that he’d even heard her.

It was his turn to look surprised. “Are you telling me you didn’t know? Anyone within a mile of the two of you could have seen it.”

She shook her head, realizing she didn’t think she could handle the direction of this conversation. “Never mind. Regardless, we had an agreement that our friendship was too important to risk on anything serious and that it was supposed to remain purely casual. It’s done now. It’s not like it matters.”

A few seconds passed before she glanced up at Azriel. His brow was furrowed, conflicted with what he was going to say next.

”What? Just tell me.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of bullshit, Nes? I get that you both agreed on those terms, but I think it’s kind of fucked overall. You’re telling me that the potential of a relationship wasn’t worth the risk but casual sex was worth it? That doesn’t make sense.”

She breathed sharply out of her nose before she responded. “Had the agreement been honored, we could have enjoyed our time together, and we could have stopped once life events called for it. If one of us started dating someone... if one of us moved... things like that. It’s fairly straightforward.” She wasn’t trying to hide the bite behind her words, but he still didn’t seem offended. She tried not to find his level-headedness infuriating, but her patience was thinning by the second. To her surprise, his composure slipped a little.

”And how did you think that was going to play out? You both would shake hands, go your own ways, and continue to hang out with each other as before? You would have been totally fine with Cassian dating another woman? And do you really think Cassian would be a-okay with sitting in the front row at your wedding one day? Has it ever occurred to you that you two always dislike anyone that the other dates? No one ever loves Cassian the right way. No one ever makes Nesta happy enough. Why do you think that—“

”Alright, alright! I get it.“ She held her hands up in supplication. “The fact remains, though, that it’s over. It’s done. We screwed up, and it cost me my best friend. We’ll never be the same.” She felt her eyes brimming with tears.

She was vaguely aware of Azriel apologizing for his outburst and suggesting that they head back. She forced a nod, stood up from her chair, and walked to his car. Once inside and buckled, he turned to her.

”Hey. I really am sorry.”

”Don’t apologize. You were being honest with me, which is something I’ve always valued so much in you. Don’t go soft on me now.” She managed the smallest of smiles.

“Deal. But the same goes for you. Our mutual honesty has saved us a lot of trouble over the years. Makes our friendship easy.”

”You’re right. Why couldn’t it have been us to fall in love?” She huffed a laugh, making sure he knew her comment was in jest. She turned to look at him as he finished backing out of their parking spot.

Azriel hit his brakes a little harder than usual at her words. He chuckled, turning to look at her with a small smile. “What good would that do us? What would we do for fun? Brood?”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed, at the truth in his words. Azriel made a wonderful friend to her, but there would be very little personal growth within their hypothetical relationship. She smiled at him, squeezed his forearm briefly, and said, “Fair enough. I guess we wouldn’t push each other to grow all that much.”

He continued to drive, eyes straight ahead. He still wore signs of amusement on his face, but his tone turned a little more serious. “No. We wouldn’t. I think that’s why Cassian has always been a great balance for people like us. We get way too comfortable in the dark.”

”Mmm. People like Cassian, for sure. Maybe people like Elain, too?” She gave him a knowing smile.

He pulled up in the driveway and placed the car in park before looking at her. She could see the faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of her sister, but she wouldn’t push him. She knew he was smitten with Elain and had been for some time. She hadn’t spoken to him plainly about it, but she could tell by the way they interacted that they were a matter of time. Inevitable, even.

“We’re not talking about me today. Only you.”

She giggled at his deflection. “Thank you again for today. I needed the coffee, the waffles, the venting, and the swift kick in the ass.”

”Of course. Speaking of Ellie, what’s your plan for her birthday party next weekend? You know Cass will be there.”

“Oh, man. I think I blocked that out.” She opened the door, stepped out of the car, and peered down at him before adding, ”That, my friend, is something I will have to play by ear.”

——————————————————————————-

A/N: Sorry for no Nessian interaction this time, but I just love the idea of a Nesta x Azriel brotp. I couldn’t help myself. Nessian interaction to come, I promise!

Tags are below! If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, you can comment, reblog, or message me!

@polireader // @lord-douglas-the-third // @justgiu12 // @notyournymphetish // @sjm-things // @strangeenemy

[diegolabhont]

I didn't mean to fall in love with you

Chapter One

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC  (Beck Hughes)

Genre: None (in this post, al least)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really.

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

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

Can someone explain to her how a person who claims to be so disinterested in the ranking was magically climbing to the top twenty?

Poppy didn’t buy it for a second, she always knew Beck were going to be a pain in her ass ever since the first time she saw them looking at her as if they weren’t impressed, but she wasn’t fully aware of how much.

“You don’t have to worry about them, Poppy” Chloe said while the strawberry blonde retouch her make up in the mirror inside her own room. “Beck is just a dude”

“Transphobia much, Chloe?” Veronica murmured playfully, wanting to start drama among her streaming fans.

“No! What I'm saying is… Beck's brain works as a regular dude, right? How much smart can they be?”

“Ha! That´s rich coming from you” Veronica laughed.

Both girls started a discussion about related shit, Beck’s brain, hormones and else while Poppy put on the mascara. Completely silent, thinking.

She treated Beck as a common enemy, she attacked them just like she would to any other lost lamb trying to be the wolf but it was not enough. Even one of those plans exploded in her own face: ruining and breaking Beck's guitar caused that they not only get a flashy and beautiful new one, but sang side by side with the one and only Jaylen Riaz, making a huge performance. Even better than hers, which was something painful and humiliating at the same time, especially after Veronica told her Beck’s YouTube channel had a followers increase, making them even more popular.

Chloe was right on something: Beck’s brain worked like a dude, and if she had learned something was that men in general were manipulable. Take a look at Michael, he was dumb as hell. Liam was a douchebag. Luis, Ford… well, they… they´re there. The only golden boy among them was Carter, and yet, he wasn´t that hard, she just gave him what he wanted in that party and after that, everything ran smoothly.

And that´s what she needed.

Poppy´s look changed, her eyes sparkled in a very malicious way and a smile crossed her face for a split second. She now had a plan, and unexpectedly, it was a Chloe attribution.

“Maybe if we accused them of cheating…?” Chloe suggested, but Poppy knew better.

“That won´t be necessary, Chlo” Poppy intervened for the first time in a while, making both girls look at her intrigued. They knew Poppy, and the little smile she had on her lips as she applied lipstick was a proof. The blonde was onto something juicy. Veronica ended the live and awaited. “Beck will be mine.”

~~X~~

It was kinda lame to her, but finding Beck completely alone under the football stands playing guitar was at least convenient. They were an eye candy from the start, that was a fact. The way that white t-shirt embraced their body was something else to see, her mind went back to the second time she saw them. The sassy rock star kind of look Beck had, even the haircut was perfect, Poppy knew that was a Zoey Wade signature and she kinda thanked her for it. Beck was damn fine, that fact made easier her plan to be honest.

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Beck stopped playing, literally frozen in place as a statue.

“What did you just say?” Their tone of voice was cold, almost insulted. Did she just get it wrong? No, she´s never wrong. A Queen can´t be wrong, especially a Min-Sinclair queen.

“It was a compliment, Farmsville” she said, rolling her eyes.

“That´s not a compliment” Beck chuckled, putting the guitar aside. “I mean, I don´t mind, but if you are going to use that to the trans community… It~ may not end well” Poppy frowned, a little pissed off. She was doing an effort, no-one had ever heard a compliment from her and this little sh… “But thanks.” Beck offered her a sweet smile a second before turn it into a mocking one. “You do pass pretty well as a woman, too”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“And now she gets it!” They started laughing, making her really angry. Poppy walked away fuming, her head up high and a killer look murdering anyone who dare crossing ways with her.

That stupid ASSHOLE. Did they THINK they could disrespect her?! To HER! She was the number ONE, the fucking RULER of the entire school. Beck was lucky enough to be in her radar and they just throw stupid shit like that!

“To be fair… I did say it first”

“I thought it was a COMPLIMENT” She fight against herself. “What am I? Some trans expert?!”

“No… But I can be. I mean, to destroy my enemy…”

“I have to know them...”

Even thought she was still mad about it, Poppy tapped wildly though her phone. She needed to do something, and she knew just the thing.

“It´s ON, jackass”

~~X~~

POV: Beck

Top fifteen. Everyone was losing their shit because they were now top twenty and Beck... Well... They just didn´t want it.

And yeah, sure, that was kinda good. The students in Belvoire had begun to pay attention to their music as well, Beck even caught a few of them listen to songs Beck wrote and some other cover as well. Their art was taking off and that was awesome, don't get it wrong, that was something Beck wanted for so long, but...

They were afraid.

What if it was because of the stupid ranking?

What if Beck just wasn´t that good, and the only thing people would want was that Beck who studded up against Poppy Min-Sinclaire and lived to tell? Even Zoey, she was talking about popularity, Belvoire elite, and some “Person to watch-out” or shit Award which yes, was huge! But… Beck really was afraid that it was Beck who puts the music high and not backwards.

What if…

What if Poppy really messes all up?

“You know… You do pass pretty well as a man”

Poppy´s words in their mind caught Beck off guard. What was her deal anyway? She came and said some weird shit, and...

Actually, everything in that interaction was weird as fuck. And not just that, Beck meet Taylor by accident later that day in the ice cream shop, they both talked a little and they found out she had a big crush onto some random guy Beck didn´t knew before.

Of course Beck was the matchmaker! They even helped her by carrying those stupid anti-diarrheic pills to the lion´s den. Ok, yes, maybe~ Beck should´ve had given them to someone and not just let them in the front door… But it wasn´t their fault that The T found out!! Poppy was losing it, and of course it was them to blame.

Why can´t they just have a normal life… with normal problems… and not… this?

“I´m dead… I´m actually dead…” Beck thought while burying their head on their hands, tired.

“Beck? Hello? I assume you heard the details of the assignment.”

“What?”

“Ehm… Yeah! Totally” Beck said with a “confident” smile that nobody believed in, Professor Roberta even frowned before going back to the lecture, while Beck tried uselessly to catch something about the assignment from their classmates´ laptops. She hated Beck anyway, but it wasn´t good news to be always in her bad side.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! … What did she say?”

“Mass comm is all about reaching people far and wide, so this project is meant to give the voiceless in our own community a voice by…”

A penetrant gaze nailed their nape, giving them chills. Beck immediately looked for that one hawk over them and not to their surprise the person found on the other side was that deadly beauty called Poppy Min-Sinclair, watching Beck as they´re a prey. Feeling really drove up the wall, Beck winked playfully at her, expecting her to look away or some rude expression towards them.

But no.

Scaring the shit out of them, Poppy actually smiled back at Beck. A sweet, flirty smile that left them feeling their heart racing as crazy and their cheeks burning red, her dark eyes so into theirs that all their system collapsed... What was happening?

“Earth to Beck!”

Professor Roberta yelled, making Beck jump a little in their sit, breaking all eye contact between them both. When did Beck turn their body completely to watch Poppy? Of course the professor was mad, Beck was practically giving her their back! As faster as they could, Beck took the right seat, being even more embarrassed now while Poppy let go a chuckle, they could hear her from any other laughter just as clearly as if she were so close.

“Oh, sorry. I… Sorry”

“Find your community service project partner please” Professor said. Beck gathered their things and head into the aisle, looking around, praying to find someone whiling to work with them and, mainly, explain to them what was that project about. The thing was everyone had already a partner. Everyone except for…

The strawberry blonde was gazing Beck as sure as someone who´s waiting for this chance can be. Smiling that same smile that caused them to feel butterflies in their stomach… Beck wasn´t sure if they were aroused… or scared.

“Professor Roberta… I need a new partner” Beck practically begged. “I´m sorry. I just can´t work with Poppy.”

The pretty but odd teacher was about to say something. Something bad based on the expression on her face, but a perfect made-up laughter cut her words, as Beck was feeling how a soft and warm hand hooked to their arm.

“Nonsense, professor! I am pretty sure we´ll be working just fine.” Poppy said, a relaxed expression drawn on her porcelain face. “Let´s go, Hughes.”

Ok, Beck was now scared. As both of them walked out the classroom, Beck´s brain was running wild, thinking about every and each form Poppy could use to disappear them from the face of the earth. Ironic, Beck survived Farmsville but they´ll be totally done in New York. Ha! Life hates them.

“Listen, I know what you are thinking…”

Really?

“... but the last thing I need right now is having my GPA taken away. So I´ve already figured it all out. We´re doing an animal shelter commercial for our project. I can ask daddy to borrow the equipment and crew”

“Didn´t think of you as a daddy person” Beck laughed, a little more repose.

“Shut the fuck up, Farmsville. This will be easy, so all I need you to do is… Oh my god.”

Poppy stared at her phone completely in shock, color draining from her face as it was sucked by a dementor.

“I have to go. We can figure out the deets later, I´ll text you where to meet me”

Then, she just left. Beck took a deep breath and let out a hiss.

“Gosh, this school is going to kill me!”

They said, who would have thought a class could be so much?

-----

Next

[alexlabhont]

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

Chapter Three.

Book: Queen B - Choices (Universe)

Pairing:  Poppy Min-Sinclair x Trans!Male MC (Beck Hughes)

Genre: Canon re-write (Because I can)

Rating: Anyone can read it, really

I´ll be posting this one over here because Tumblr, for some reason, thinks my secondary blog is a bot...

This is me trying to write by and for the Trans community, specially FTM community, meaning, trans guys, but I actually took the liberty to use They/them pronouns for everyone out there who´s interested (Also, the name Beck was the most neutral one I could find, trying to use the cannon Bea Hughes)

Now, about the PAIRING... I will be using choices style, kinda, because I want to give you choice at some point. If you have any comment, PLEASE BE RESPECTFULL and patient with me. This is also my first english fanfic and english is not my mother language, so... i’m sorry fo the grammar errors

CHAPTERS

The beginning

Chapter one 

Chapter two

ONE-SHOTS

Just a dance (Zoey x MC)

—————————————————————— 

A truce.

That’s what she said she wanted and for a moment, all their fears disappeared.

“I really hate to admit this, but I personally asked for you to be my partner on this project. I'm familiar with your music, and I actually wanted to work with you.”

She also said. Beck didn't know how to feel, really. Poppy Min-Sinclair heard their songs, or, at least, she saw their videos.

And she liked them.

Or not? They never knew with her. She has been acting pretty weird these days. Giving them a “compliment”, smiling at them, asking for Beck to be project partners…

Open up with them.

That was beyond weird.

Beck couldn't stop thinking about what they saw back at the “Alpha-Zeta deluxe cabin” or whatever it’s called. Poppy really looked hurt… sad… like…

Like she has feelings.

“I don’t know, Beck. I don’t think is a good idea letting you guard down.” Zoey said, playing with their hair, both of them resting on the couch, Beck’s head laying on her thighs.

“Yeah, I get it. But…” Beck took a moment, remembering the sadness in her voice, the betrayal in her eyes… Did she really care about Chloe? “I wish you had been there to see it, Zo. It was so real my head exploded… Like... She was really hurt.”

“Babe, I know what you’re trying to say. And I believe you that she was in pain. But you have to remember she's still Poppy. And even if she’s a… uhm… human who feels, it doesn't mean she's not a bitch.”

Beck stood up, sitting properly while scratching their neck.

“Yeah, I know that.” They replied. Zoey had a point they couldn’t forget. From all people, Beck understood what it felt like to be judge by a cover, but as Megamind's Roxanne said once: Checking the content was what matters, and the inside of Poppy´s book was not so good.

The time on the wall clock pointed it was the moment to go, it was Saturday and Poppy and Beck agreed to meet her in front of an Animal Rescue from downtown around noon. He didn't want to be late, after all, Poppy was capable of start the project without them and argue that they didn't show up.

“Anyway, I have to go now. The sooner we end this, the better.” Beck put on their shoes and leather jacket, ready to impress thanks to Zoey fashion sense.

“I want you far~ away from trouble, Beck Hughes. Do you hear me?” The protector side of Zoey appeared and, again, they were confused by it.

Zoey always had that effect on Beck, she could warm their chest, sculpt a smile on their face. Honestly, after all these years in a toxic environment, bullying and harm, having Zoey´s concern on them was something new, something welcomed, something that made them happy.  Laugh a little if Beck thought about it closely.

“I can take care of myself.” They said. After all of those fake friends, after all of the pain they went through, it was still hard to trust completely.  However… Beck looked at Zoey, the only one who Beck felt relaxed with. Their best friend, the first one to treat them as what they were even after knowing the truth. Beck didn’t miss Farmsville at all. “See ya later, beautiful.”

“I´ll be waiting right here”

~~X~~

They won’t ever admit it, but after they heard Poppy saying that the project was in the Downtown Animal Rescue Beck was excited. Puppies, kitty cats, animals! Beck love them greatly, wholeheartedly. They were their weakness; their adoration was so much so Beck considered seriously taking the vet path almost all their life, if having not found music, their story would´ve been completely different right now. That´s why they couldn’t refrain themselves of stopping at each enclosure to coo over the animals, losing all sense of self-respect over them. Especially after a pup ugly, dummy looking like showed up with the most adorable face they ever seen.

“Oh boy, you’re so ugly I luv ya Tushie-face! Who’s a precious ugly-boy? Uhm? Who’s a precious ugly-boy~” The little pug barked happily, enjoying the attention. “You’re perfect! You’re…”

“… nice to see so many new additions.” Beck heard, stopping them at the moment. Beck was sure it was Poppy, but she sounded… “I guess that means a lot of these little guys are being adopted?” … different. Again.

“Yes, Ms. Min-Sinclair.” A young voice answered, without fear, with respect. A good kind of respect. “We have a ten percent higher adoption rate than last year” Uhh, that sounded good. For some random reason, Beck showed the thumbs up to the ugly pug, flashing him a stupid smile at which the pup moved his tail as if he understand what it meant and agreed.

But then… Poppy laughed.

A real laugh. A nice, non-threatening, actually kind of cute laugh. So honest that they felt terrible attracted to it.

“No… Oh, no, no, no… No. Don't you even think about…”

As if their body was its own person, Beck rounded the corner, wanted so badly to see how a laughter so sincere looked like in Poppy´s face, like some weird kind of siren song they had to see with their own eyes. Instead, Beck saw her talking to one of the shelter’s employees, hugging and stroking a bichon frise puppy´s tummy softly, lovingly. Their heart stopped just a second, running wild immediately after.

“God… she’s so…”

“DON´T!” And they slapped their self. Hard. Beck deserved it. They couldn't… they won’t… They refused to…

The sound where so loud it called the attention of both Poppy and the other guy, while Beck felt the stinging and burning on his now red cheek. Ok, maybe~ they didn't have to do that, actually, the expression on Poppy´s face the moment she saw them, a sour, angry one, was the only thing they needed to feel normal again towards her.

“You're late” Why, hello to you too.

“I´m sorry, it's just that I was playing with Tushie face and…”

“Tushie face?” Beck couldn’t tell if she was amused or making fun of how stupid they were. “That´s how you pet-name?” Poppy added, raising an eyebrow. Beck shrugged.

“If you have a tushie face, then you are a tushie face. Simple as that” Based on Poppy's smirk, they should’ve stay quiet.

“Uhm… Alright, tushie face.” Damn it! “Come with me.” She then gave them a wink, smiling as if they both had now a new secret, before walking toward the back of the kennels.

Fuck.

“So… how do you knew about this place?” Beck asked, very willing to replace the topic to literally anything.

“If you must know, my parents bought me this shelter when I was eight.”

“What?”

“Really? Why?”

“I wanted a dog. Mommy and Daddy didn't want pets in the house… Et, voila”

Beck looked around, the place had now a new light after what they just learned. All this place was Poppy's, just because her parents didn’t approve animals at home. Unintentionally, Beck chuckled, feeling Poppy’s gaze on them almost immediately.

“What’s so funny?” She asked, irritated.

“We’re really very different but the same at once” They said. “Ever since I was a kid, my parents taught me to work with every single farm animal. Cleaning them, feed them, love them… I even helped bring life into this world.” Beck told her, twisting their lips. “I had a lot of different pets back at home. So do you right here. You see?”

“You’re forgetting about the fact the whole point of a place like this isn't for the animals to stay forever…” She said, vulnerable. Beck did actually get that, the hollow feeling that comes after something like that.

“Well… at least they’re not dinner”

Surprisingly, that comment made her chuckle just a little and Beck felt so good to be the one to take away that fragile expression in Poppy’s face. She was definitely more beautiful when she was happy. When she was laughing.

“You are right, that's even worse.”

They both looked at each other for a moment, some complicity in their own way, as if they both shared something, a sentiment that almost nobody felt, both understood each other, at least in one little but significant thing: They both learned very young what it's like to love innocently and truly, to have an unconditional companion, just to lose it to the “greater purpose” again and again. Both learned to never get really attached to anyone.

“But whatever, it gets the humanitarians off our back.” Just as if the conversation never happened, Poppy went back to the factory mode. “Which is why we’re really here. I’m fully aware of your popularity in YouTube, especially after your little performance, so hopefully this project we’re doing will get some good press for us to get the adoption rate it to, at least, 20 percent this year.”

“So this is why you wanted to work with me…” Beck didn't know why, but a little part of themselves felt disappointed… what was them expecting anyway?

Soon they both reach the back of the room, and while Poppy walked in as if it was completely routine, Beck had to stop for a second. A whole crew was already set up, cameras, microphones, lights, everything. A lot of cute pups and cats of all ages were also there looking adorable, sure they were the real stars of all this, but Beck couldn't help but feeling intimidated.

However, it was Poppy’s attitude the one thing that took all Beck’s attention though all the day.

She was kind, professional, caring… making sure of one thing above it all: to have the best commercial of all times for an animal shelter. The way she treated the employees, the animals, people around her… it was like a completely different side of her they never seen before. Poppy even, against all odds, treated Beck as what they were: her project partner. Giving them a fair share of lines, taking care of capturing their best angle, how happy they looked between all those cute little animals. Directing Beck to make sure every detail was perfect, being polite and respectful while doing so.

She was acting as a selfless but powerful leader, and Beck couldn’t take her eyes off of her the whole time. She even managed to convince them to adopt that tushi faced puppy, pointed out that they both had choose each other right at the moment they meet.

“Just look at the way he's watching you!” She said playfully. “You two are really connected.”

“Do you really think so?” Beck asked, playing with the pup. They really wanted to take the little guy home, be able to give him a good life, having another friend in their life. One not farm related at least. Beck felt Poppy coming closer, resting her hand on Beck's shoulder while watching little tushi face with a soft smile.

“I know so. But the real question is: what do you think?”

And now, Beck had a dog named Pepes.

~~X~~

Once they knew every detail was taken care of, and the adoption paperwork were all right, Poppy, Beck and little Pepes walked out the shelter. Personally, they felt drained out, because although they were used to cameras, it was always under their own terms and time, their own edition, their own personal rhythm, but after that day, Beck was seriously considering the idea of being backstage musician, unlike Poppy, who actually looked as fresh as a cucumber.

“Damn, Pops. I have to admit it: you were awesome there.” They said, Pepes barking enthusiastic, agreeing.

“Were you expecting something less?” She said, some mischievous sparkle in her eyes Beck couldn't quite place. “Now, take me to lunch.”

“I'm sorry? Why would I do that?”

“Because…” She started to say, sassiness taking over her. “… I acted, arranged, produce and direct a fully perfect commercial to our project while you just played around with puppies and looked cute. The very least you can do is buy me lunch. I'm starving.”

“Oh, so you think I'm cute?” Beck flirted. It was impossible to let it pass by.

“Like it was a secret” Poppy smirked.

“… What?”

“I’m not blind, Hughes. You are actually very good-looking. It´s not a secret.” Beck was shocked, did they really just heard a compliment from the one Poppy Min-Sinclair that wasn’t commercial related? They looked at her, expecting some irony or double meaning, maybe some hint of a trap, but no…  She was being completely sincere. Beck snorted, it was cool they guessed.

“Now, that's a compliment.” Poppy rolled her eyes evidently, pretending to be irked, but that little smile on her lips proved to be the opposite.

“Hello? My lunch?” Beck laughed, how can she be so rude and yet so cute at the same time? Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

Maybe.

“Whatever you want, bossy-ass”

----

Next

[jae-canikeepyou]

| cloud nine | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: alternate universe

a/n: agh i really like this request because i’ve seen an edit of him in a pilot’s uniform :< tbh i re-wrote this three times before i was satisfied with it. hope it meets your imagination 💕~j.

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captain jung jaehyun.

once everyone heard that name or saw it on their monthly roasters, whispers of yeses and scoffs of disappointments were normal in the department. some were contented with only being in the same paper as him. and then there were some who were very lucky enough to trail behind him when they made their way to the aircraft.

one time when jaehyun was running late, his existence alone acted as if the entire airport was his own model runway. a little speed walk or even fixing the folds of his sleeve cuffs sent crowds upon crowds trampling over each other about that rumoured hot pilot; taking pictures of him like he was a famous celebrity. people’s comments have spread and hit the articles as well, more frequent and mentioned in any social platform online and it was titled several times.

‘this captain has the visuals to be a celebrity.’

‘captain is a living character out of a manhwa?’

‘a pilot caused a storm at the arrival hall of xxx airport due to his good looks.’

‘mr. viral pilot’s even has a handsome rbf.’

jaehyun gave a forced smile that melted the eyes of his ‘assumed’ fanbase. not again, he thought. it was just a normal gesture to greet them, yet they saw it differently. other than a pool of sakuras and pink hearts, his smile was equivalent to ‘i love you’.

“attaboy jung!” his co-pilot lee seokmin, caught up to him at the departure hall. “do a finger heart next time!”

“don’t reveal my name.” he gestured him to keep quiet. “finger hearts are for idols.”

“i will reveal it because you’re basically a celebrity pilot now. don’t be so stiff, jung” his sunshine smile also caused an uproar after shooting the ladies with many hearts. “it’s simple. just put your thumb and pointer like an x- wait what do you mean for idols? can’t you see how famous you are after that viral picture floating around the country? if you’re not convinced, the world? jaehyun, even the legendary IU agreed you’re attractive-”

seokmin’s words were stopped by jaehyun’s documents in front of his purses lips. he put the blocking papers down with his fingers and still continued with sending finger hearts. “fine. you can reveal my name but not my fanboying side please. and dude i’m having second hand embarrassment right now because of you.” jaehyun gritted his teeth.

“you gotta get used to it.” seokmin said, now doing a heart with his arms.

the crew went through security screening and soon reached the bottom of the flight of stairs connecting to the plane. it was the norm, or maybe not, that the whole crew took a picture before the flight.

jaehyun stood at the middle with seokmin when he noticed a familiar face by his side. based on her side profile, he was sure this was definitely her.

he observed her ever elegant posture; natural make up that wasn’t too heavy, something he always liked. the way her eyelashes flutter due to the wind’s breeze and gosh her gorgeous and gentle smile-

“you’re staring, captain.” you cleared your throat, snapping him out of the trance. a small grin curving by your lips at his aloof response.

“my apologies if i have been rude..” he bent down to whisper, eyes lowering down to see your name slightly on the document paper you were holding. heh, i was right.. “..y/n.”

“if there’s anyone who’s rude..” you trailed off, turning to him face to face now. “..wouldn’t that be you, mr. celebrity?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, referring to the recent articles about the handsome pilot visual. you then twirled still with a small smile as you headed up the flight of stairs.

seokmin nudged the tall male, lips agape at his interaction with you. “wow you just talked with the y/n!” his voice sounding softer than usual. “she’s just new to the airline and everyone has a crush on her. i think i’m falling for her too.”

“you fall for every girl you encounter with, lee.”

as they walked up as well, jaehyun’s eyebrows arched at the compliment seokmin gave you. they took a quick glance at you, now talking with the rest of attendants. it didn’t take long for them to realize that other men were awe-struck by your beauty, just like he did. even the senior attendants seem very smitten whenever you would bring out the enthusiasm from others for the flight. entering the cockpit, the two pilots sat at their seats in preparation for take-off.

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ten hours into the flight, you double checked the passengers, wherein you gave assistance, especially those with children.

at the corners of your eyes, you spotted a couple with three kids. and based on other passengers who seemed to not get any sleep or have broad understanding, were bothered with the continuous cries. the parents seemed new and they were ultimately blessed with triplets. two were already a handful for them and the other baby was left slight unattended, so you politely asked to step in to help.

you could feel that mobile phones were directly pointed at you, filming the moment as they planned to maybe make the gesture viral. you pat the baby’s back and managed to make her sleep.

since shifting airlines just four months ago, you were aware of the attention you’ve been getting from other staffs, passengers and even locals. as much as you didn’t want the spotlight onto you, your occupation somehow paved the way.

the parents thanked your service and as you bowed, the chief flight attendant called you to rest. you finally sat at the post where you were assigned at. out of heavy exhaustion, you massaged your neck to sooth the pain away. deciding to freshen up a bit, you used the service cart to block aisle and went to the lavatory before heading to the plane’s upper rest compartment.

the way you twirled around got stuck in jaehyun’s mind. he couldn’t seem to take you out of it. he would close his eyes for awhile and your smile would appear. it got him feeling so giddy to the point he felt his ears heat up.

“is she marked in your heart?” seokmin placed his legs up as the plane was on auto-pilot.

“no not really.” jaehyun said, removing the headphones.

seokmin noticed the fidgety movements jaehyun had been acting since the take-off. it was as if he was itching to leave. “jae, you’ll get your turn to rest, just let me finish my food.” he munched on his sandwich before gesturing his friend to leave.

now that he finally would get his rest, he exited the cockpit with a hammering heart. he wasn’t the type to reveal himself during the flight, but urgently needed to go for a break. other crew reminded him that he should sleep too, given the prominent dark circles around his eyes. as he waited for his turn to use the lavatory, the door slid open revealing you, whom maybe he, or might have growing heart eyes toward you.

your hands held the door as the grip on it tightened at the sight of the captain. you looked to where his hands were and he held the door’s outside handle. his dimples deepened the more he flattened his lips, and he too seemed shocked at your appearance.

even after hours into the flight, he thought you still looked the same like you did at the photo taking. “hi.” he chuckled, obviously feeling a mix of awkwardness and embarrassment in meeting you.

“hello. may i pass through?” you asked, almost taking jaehyun aback at your straight-forward question. the rest of the crew witnessing interaction made them giggle.

“oh, i’m sorry.” he turned his body 90 degree and you shyly nodded for the gesture.

idiot, jaehyun. you’re an idiot. he told himself.

jaehyun went back to the cockpit and retrieved his coat and he soon got down the steep ladder steps, where he spotted you reading a book you were so immersed in. the sleepiness in his eyes were long gone and this time he wanted to have a proper conversation with you. unlike in the previous two short ones where you seemed to brush him off.

you noticed his presence and closed the book, giving them the attention he sought for earlier. he stood opposite to you, leaning against the ladder. “do you have something to tell me?” you asked, placing the book in your bag. “i’m a pretty good listener.”

a smile from you had jaehyun head in the clouds. “oh, well captain lee said you’re new here.” he fixed to loosen his tie and unbuttoned the first bud. “so how long have you been in the airline?”

“i transferred four months ago.” you replied, putting a strand back with a bobby pin.

“i see. no wonder. i was probably busy at the time. lots of schedules and flights here and there. our paths never seemed to cross if you’ve been here that long.” he crossed his arms.

he was hesitant to ask because it would make him look full of himself. screw it anyway. “you’re not one of those who moved airlines just to see me, right?”

his question made you silent. “ i just thought maybe this airline is more suitable for me.” you lied. in fact you moved because you weren’t convinced enough from your co-workers, that this ‘jaehyun’, apparently your ex, could swoon the ladies.

oh heavens, it has been five years. and this man certainly did swoon you and definitely sent your chest aching again, in a good way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the city the airline was designated at filled with bustling people and chirping of the birds. the sun shone as its rays peeked through the little gaps between leaves. traditional music played publicly at the common and main street, some tourists lined up for the city’s landmark. it really seemed like a perfect picture.

you sat down at an outdoor café, legs crossed and memorised the scenery in front. glad that you were blessed with photographic memory and began a quick sketch on the blank paper. as much as you didn’t want to touch your new pocket-sized watercolor painting set, you had to dab the first droplet of water on the tabs.

the faint ash lines soon faded completely at the droplets and as you began to paint the first layer, the paper met a shadow figure that blocked the sun. you looked up to see jung jaehyun; with two coffees in hand, a sunshine smile, perfect dimples and in casual clothes. you didn’t want to make him wait long and invited him to sit with you.

“great day today huh?” he asked, leaning closer to look at what you were doing then shifting his eyes towards you. “it’s.. pretty.”

“thanks, but it’s only the first layer. you’ll see the details after i’m done with the fountain.” you brought up your sketchbook to let him see.

“have you been to the city before?” taking a sip from his cup. you shook your in response, still concentrated on the painting. “c’mon, i’ll tour you around.”

he grabbed your hand and you had no choice but to follow. street stalls filled with souvenirs and its people encouraged their ranges, and jaehyun spotted something that might suit you. it was a necklace. he gestured the man so he could pay for it. taking glances of you and stall, the man waved at him. “sir, this comes in pairs.”

“hm?” his eyes looked at the item. “oh then i’ll get a pair.” he gave the cash and as the man took it, he grinned at jaehyun for his hearty eyes; already catching the purpose of the quick decision.

“it is for the lady, am i right?” he asked.

jaehyun scratched his neck, mentally cursing to himself for being too obvious and transparent. “oh. she’s just- uh, we used to date.” jaehyun chuckled, taking the resin designed necklace in his hands.

“you both look good together.” the man winked like he was about to give the pilot a piece of advice. “she must be that special to be making you feel things.”

“well she still makes me feel i’m in the clouds.” jaehyun looked at you choose an souvenir with furrowed brows. “it’s kinda sad that we didn’t make it like most couples.”

the man’s loud laugh startled jaehyun. “you’re in the city of love. anything can change and anything is possible.”

jaehyun smiled at his remark and left with a contented, little hopeful heart. he went up to you who was still indecisive with the souvenir.

you felt his presence on your right. rising up to see what he was up to, you were shocked at the item he had dangling in his fingers. this certain gesture reminded of your first date; he waved a keychain he won through a carnival stall. you stared into his eyes like you saw the universe in them; the beauty continuously expanding, the stars shining and sparkling when it boasted its twinkles.

the smile on your face faded, but it was quite obvious to jaehyun. he brought down the item and bit his inner gums. “i got this for you.” he chuckled softly, eyes averting from you with reddened ears.

this was strange, awkward, how you both used to be a thing in the past and now meeting each other through work. it just didn’t seem right, to you at least.

“what happened to us?” your sudden question caused jaehyun bent even lower towards your face, sending you to step backwards at his action.

jaehyun knew what you referred to. in fact he asked himself the same question every day since losing contact with you after high school. a small grin curving by his lips disappeared, then mirroring the same expression as you did. “we were both young, carefree. we didn’t know what to prioritise and used each other to make people think differently of us.” he trailed. “we were pretty immature. we just stopped talking after our graduation and distance widened before we had the time to talk it out.” he cracked up slightly, beginning to walk slowly to continue touring you around.

you kinda bursted out in giggles, agreeing to every reason he had just said. the way you saw how much he changed physically and mentally, something in him seemed to draw you closer to him; like you wanted to go back to square one. because all you feel towards him at this very moment was the same as back then.

“couldn’t agree more. we were like those try hard couple goal wannabes that we annoy the heck out of our friends.” you put your hair strands behind your ear. “anyway, i feel the same-” you paused, realizing what you just said.

“uh-huh.” he now looked at you from the map.

“i shouldn’t have said-” you laughed and feeling panicky. the heat creeping from your forehead downwards.

“you mean ‘feel the same like before’ or ‘feel the same as me’?” he asked with a challenging grin. such a tease.

you rolled your eyes at his childish behaviour, not wanting to be caught in his web. “what do you mean by ‘feel the same as me’, hm?” your voice almost breaking to a laugh.

jaehyun inhaled and exhaled sharply because he did not know what else to say. his fingers waving everywhere to look for answers, but to no success, he could only smile awkwardly. you both stared at each other for a while before he spotted some people who recognised him from afar. he grabbed you and went for a run, pulling you with him and led you away from the main circle of the city.

how you wished you wore proper footwear. running with ballet flats on uneven ground brought more discomfort than it did with jaehyun’s company. but as you watched the way how his hair slowed with the wind and his smiling side profile turning towards you, all memories from back then came flooding in like waves. though you didn’t want them to, there wasn’t anything you could do because you knew that somewhere inside the deepest parts in your heart, there was still room for a second chance with him; there was still space for him to fill that missing gap that was left empty before.

now your body was pulled aside at one street, just by the edge of an outdoor neighbourhood home. jaehyun gestured you to keep quiet and he turned slightly to check on them. as you both hid, it was something similar when flynn rider and rapunzel hid from the patrolling royal guards. “remember how we were just like this when we hid from our homeroom teachers?” he asked, crossing his arms in reminisce and a grin from ear to ear.

“of course, it was your idea and we had to mop the whole gymnasium as punishment.” you tiptoed to take a peek behind him. “it’s clear now, let’s go-”

“let me do this for a while.” jaehyun pulled you to him for a hug. “i kind-”

“kinda missed this?” you finished his sentence.

his chuckle tickled your ears as his palms tightened around you. “you took the words right out of my mouth.”

“i know you too well, jae.” you pinched his cheek and he let go of you.

“too well that you figured i’m starting to fall for you again?” he licked his dry lips as he waited for you answer.

you exhaled a breathy air from your nostrils, turning around to walk around the city and giggled internally for leaving him unanswered.

jaehyun scoffed with reddened ears. “should i take that as a yes?”

“whatever you wanna think of, jae.”

he recalled what the salesman said. maybe something will change in this city of love and your words just now created a ray of hope in the sky. this inexplainable anticipation he felt in his chest got him realizing that, yeah, he actually, still is in love with you.

—

you bowed to the last batch passengers exiting the plane with jaehyun and seokmin on your side, along with other crew. finally on the way to arrival hall, all you wanted was to feel the soft sheets of your bed. grabbing your luggage, you slowed down your pace knowing that jaehyun was behind.

jaehyun’s hand laid on your shoulders, catching his breath slightly. “i’ll meet you at the carpark.” he bent down to a whisper.

“and what makes you think i’ll agree with your request?” you hummed, legs dragging your exhausted self to the walkalator.

“i’m gonna make my signature marinated spicy fried pork. i know you miss that.” he winked.

“mhm.” you singsonged, “more than i miss you.”

he groaned like a child and you could tell he purposely whined in a persuasive tone. “join me for dinner at least.” he nudged that you were lightly shoved to side, creating imbalance on your feet.

“fine i will.” you rolled your eyes as he cheered in soft ‘yeses’. “in one condition though.”

jaehyun lifted a brow at your habit and he should’ve seen it coming. “what is it?”

“live cooking. i’ll sit by your breakfast table, observing how you cut and hold the onions wrongly. i don’t want you to make me wait elsewhere of your apartment.”

“i didn’t invite you just so i could be bickered by you.” he held your head, sending vibrations for a second before you poked his armpits. “ow! okay you’ll get the live cooking in one condition, alright?”

you continued to walk towards the arrival hall, already noticing banners of jaehyun’s name and long lenses of cameras pointed at your direction. “that’s my word, but fine. what’s your condition, captain?”

a large hand find its way to interlock yours, then bringing it up to be visible to the public. “a pilot and a flight attendant dating.” his wink caused you to fluster in all sorts and now you were aware of the cameras. “it’d be a good topic, wouldn’t it?”

his lips seemed to inch closer towards you but it wasn’t a kiss since he refrained himself from doing so. your heart stopped for a moment before a certain camera flash blinked in front of the both of you, later hearing a voice of the photographer asking his mates to name the newsletter;

“captain jung is on cloud nine with y/f/n.”

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {22}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter:21. Nonchalant

A/N:

Direct continuation of the previous chapter. I'm really bad at updating I had this done since I posted the last chapter, but just kept pushing off the update. I have two other chapters. IDK how soon I should post them, cause I don't want to spam them.

22. Waltz of the Snowflakes

Elsa was appeased knowing that in the future, even if Hans didn't continue to stay in the castle, he would still want to put down roots somewhere nearby, remaining somewhere between the castle and the sea. Not straying far from her, staying at her beck and call. The idea eased more than her mind, it really seemed to warm her heart as well. 

 Her heart had been feeling a little lighter that night. It was a strange sensation to have it be constantly aflutter. She didn't quite fathom why the feeling seemed to be lingering longer than it usually did. Though she just thought it was more peculiar than particularly unpleasant. Her heart's flutter was not the most abnormal thing she was presently experiencing either. Stranger still was the sudden surge in her magic, that desperately wanted to break free. A tingling extruded from her extremities, yet the unexpected swirling of magic within her didn't feel like any of the normal outburst that often occurred when she got anxious. This burst of power was somewhat different, it seemed more euphoric, if she had to make a comparison she'd consider it to be closer to the feeling of when she let it go for the first time in forever, more than anything else. The abrupt sensation scouring through her body puzzled her a bit because she didn't understand why now? Most of the time her powers started acting up was when she felt more negative emotions, currently she was feeling quite the contrary, in fact she was rather content, but she didn't think that alone would warrant her powers to swell inside her.

 Elsa had a soft smile on her face. She had been curiously looking down at her hands. 

 "Yeah, I-Oh?" she began to respond, but she suddenly stopped when she spotted a snowflake slowly drift by her nose. Elsa looked up and saw that a small flurry had formed above her which was starting to softly drop snowflakes around her. This was new. "That's...strange. What is going on?'' She commented pointing up a bit stunned at what was occurring, being surprised by her own powers was something that didn't happen quite often. Her icy blues were opened wide, transfixed on the abnormal snowfall. "I have absolutely no idea why my powers decided to be unruly right now."

Hans grimaced a little at the thought. 

 "Should I be worried, your Majesty? I seem to recall the last time they got unruly was a rather painful experience for all of us." He laughed a little nervously and shifted somewhat uncomfortably to give her space. Not because he was afraid of her, but because he was reminded that she should be afraid of him.

"Hm? No, I don't think so, it's nothing that drastic," she assured, she flicked her wrist and the flurry vanished. "I think I have it under control." 

 Elsa turned facing towards the window and began to test her control over her powers. She quickly conjured a variety of forms which she quickly transfigured. She began the release of her pent-up magic with a snowman much like Olaf which collapsed and reconfigured to a horse, followed by a replica of her Ice Castle that then turned in on of the Arendelle Castle. After seeing enough of her perfect precision over her magic she let it dematerialized.

 She hummed in confusion. "That was rather odd, I know my powers sometimes seep out when I feel anxious, but the thing is I didn't think I was feeling that way at all, also it usually tends to be ice not snow." Elsa was perplexed, she pressed her lips. She might have thought it wasn't due fatigue but she didn't think that was the case either. She really was clueless.

"Hmm, ice for danger, snow for... something else? Something lighter?" Hans proposed, perplexed and intrigued as he leaned back to watch her work upside-down. He grunted a little and righted himself when she was done, finding he couldn't process anything upside-down, anyway. He seized upon a strange idea, and pushed himself to his feet. In spite of his drinking earlier, he seemed perfectly steady. He'd had some time to process the alcohol, after all. He offered her his hand. 

 "Perhaps it only makes sense to women who've known me in more pleasant circumstances, but I've just realized we've known each-other for a rather long time now, and I'm not certain I've ever asked you for a dance. That's not very like me." He mused. He wondered if that would change the ice as well. He wasn't sure what he thought he was doing, but somewhere deep down, it felt like that made sense. Dancing would illuminate things. He often liked to dance and think at the same time.

Elsa thought Hans' hypothesis about the snow seemed rather reasonable, but she wondered why something similar hasn't occurred sooner. Dance? The invitation caught her off guard, bringing out a blush on her cheeks yet again. She gawked at him, from his offered hand to his contemplative face. Elsa couldn't determine whether his proposition or the snow were the far stranger between the two. Though she decided she'd take his suggestion as part of the tipsy foolishness he'd warned her about earlier. 

 "Um, you have not," she responded. "Though I'm uncertain what that has to do with anything," she started in confusion, yet her own hand already seemed to be hesitantly dancing to determine whether or not she should take his hand. "Also I'm not much of a dancer, I'm certain I'm quite bungling at it."

"Not a thing." He assured sweetly. "Unless it does and I don't know. You don't have to be good, I like a simple box-step. Trust me to lead and you'll do fine." He assured, never wavering in his offer. "I'm in the habit of dancing often. There were always maids around to dance with at home, so it was a good way to pass the time, hold a conversation, pretend everything was alright." He assured, at least he admitted the truth; it was pretending.

Elsa teetered a bit more, she paused, looking him over one more time, intently gazing into his eyes for a long moment. 

 "Alright," she said softly as she gently grasped his warm hand with her own. Elsa figured dancing was something a bit more formal anyway, an activity royals partook in often, even if she herself wasn't one of them. Besides, they had certainly already been a lot more intimate than that before, so taking up on his offer couldn't possibly hurt, could it? He was also her friend now, surely that's something they do together. Regardless of all the logical reasoning (or excuses as others may prefer to see them) the reality was that a part of her strongly wanted to feel his ever emanating warmth against her skin once again.

Hans smiled a little to himself and positioned their arms as he walked her out a little ways from the bed. Just as well that it was simple, he was still injured and couldn't exactly do a whole lot of activity. He hummed a tune with the appropriate rhythm and held her close while he led, starting slow for her and picking up to match the music as she got the pattern. 

 "There we are. An easy box-step." He sounded pleased with that, continuing at the same pace, as constant and inevitable as the tide.

Elsa did struggle a bit at first, stumbling and not perfectly matching the pattern, but with Hans taking the lead and his gentle guidance she seemed to be getting the hang of it fairly quickly. She had been pretty preoccupied at first trying to focus all her attention on her feet, but now she had gotten more control over her motor skills and could actually look at him. 

 "I do beg your pardon if I step on your toes too hard, but I do think I'm finding my footing."

"Oh, you're not the first person I've guided through the steps, and you've had a little more practice than some of the maids." He assured her, not minding at all. "I'm a tough young man, I can handle being trodden on once or twice." He joked, carrying on the pace without worry, and just enjoying the rhythm of the movement. It wasn't often that he shared something from home that wasn't angry or depressing. It was just a nice thing he held onto and brought wherever he went. An odd habit he enjoyed. A simple box-step for no good reason other than that it was enjoyable.

"Only a bit of practice, not much though, definitely not the adequate amount that a Queen should know. Certainly ill-prepared for any royal social gathering. Luckily I don't have to partake in those if I don't desire," she assured. "Hopefully you don't get trodden thrice I'm afraid to find out what happens then," she joked back with a giggle. 

 Their dancing had made yet another bittersweet memory re-emerge, it was her dancing with her father when she was a little girl, stepping on his toes being half his size. Happy memories with her parents were so few and far between she often wondered if they had just been lovely dreams she made up in her solitude.

"Everyone misses a few things they ought to know, there's not enough time in one's youth to get all that information at once." Hans assured, with unusual amounts of forgiveness for himself. He said it as if to brush away her anxieties and shield her from them. "At any rate, you're doing a lovely job. You've got the grace to dance, just not the training. Never mind it, it will come." He assured her, though confident for no particular reason except to make her feel better.

 "That's for certain, might as well learn how to do some of that stuff now," Elsa smiled. "Thank you, probably wouldn't be as lovely without an excellent instructor." She complimented. Elsa thought the two of them just dancing for no particular reason was rather nice. Just being in each other's company always felt right, more so when they shared pleasant moments (which unexpectedly involved much warmth and caresses exchanged between an Ice Queen and a quondam Prince).

"It's surprising, I must've danced with half the girls in the Isles by now, just by fact of how many maids we hire. But I don't tell everybody I play the harp. Funny how one can get things out of order, going to a new place." He observed, smiling slightly as he danced with her. He hummed again, a slow, perhaps even romantic song. It had to be slow, starting to learn, every song felt much faster, but that didn't ease the romantic tension any. Romantic tension that Hans didn't seem to mind, if he noticed it. "Hmm. Is that so? I guess that makes me part of the lucky few. You know I'd still very much love to hear you play for me, and there's a harp waiting to be used in the music room, most likely untuned, but it's there," she reminded him warmly. "But perhaps not right now, but someday soon would be nice," she encouraged with a sweet smile and softness in her eyes.

"Certainly, I'd love to play for you. Any time you and I are both in, perhaps a tea time, if you're not occupied elsewhere." He proposed lightly. 'elsewhere' being Anna, no doubt. "I suppose it's only fair, I'm one of the lucky few who has seen you with your hair down, I've no doubt." He glanced to her hair, with something all too fond in his eyes. Perhaps it was good that his hands were occupied with the form of the dance, else he might have tried to touch it. That surely would have been... bad?

"Of course, tea time might actually be the most opportune time to have a rendezvous, I'm seldom occupied during tea time, I usually spend them alone in the library, so I would definitely enjoy it if you joined me and spend one together," she eagerly assured him. Elsa became a bit more bashful with his observation of her hair, especially with the way he looked at her with his green gleaming eyes. She slightly averted her face from meeting his gaze directly, bringing one of her crimsoning cheeks near her shoulder, yet a smile stayed on her face. Suddenly, another soft sprinkling of snowflakes started to surround, not just Elsa, but the both of them.

Hans couldn't help but smile a little at the snowflakes. "I thought a dance might draw a little flurry out of you." He hummed. But he wasn't sure yet what they meant. Just that they were a good thing. "That, or I'm very wrong and it's a sign you're coming down with a... cold." He giggled a little at the pun he only realized was there as he was telling it. "Oh there's snow way to talk to me without puns eventually, I'm afraid." He had been spending time with Kristoff and Olaf. If anything he now had more horrible puns.

Elsa was still bemused by the snowflakes produced by her unpredictable powers. She looked at them with wonder trying to make sense of what they meant, but still had no clue besides recognizing that it was somehow linked to her current bliss. 

 She laughed a little at his pun. "Oh, I don't get colds and even if I did I think you'd snow." She thought it was rather silly, but that didn't stop her from trying.

Hans laughed a little more at her returned pun. He looked different when he smiled with his eyes, hints of crow's feet that showed only in the rare event that he was genuinely that happy. 

 "Should we stop, or should I go for 'Icy what you did there'?" He teased. "Ah, it's late, isn't it? Or perhaps early, by now? Should I stop distracting you before bed?" Yet they still danced. He seemed to dance by habit, hardly noticing he was doing it.

"It would indeed be wise to get some rest before daybreak,"she said softly, yet was reluctant to let go, not knowing when they'd be able to share another warm moment like this again.

Hans slowed the dance all the same.

 "Another dance another time?" He proposed gently. "I can see I still have some healing to do before I take on the guard training full time. I'll have a little time." He suggested. He smiled a little to himself, perhaps realizing how that sounded. Almost as if he would be going away to war, though it was truthfully not far a walk from the castle doors to the guard's barracks. But, he knew she was a busy woman.

"Perhaps," she smiled. "This has been rather nice and I could also really use the practice." And there it was again, adding some other justification, she just couldn't seem to allow herself to admit that she wanted to do it solely for her own pleasure. 

 Even though Hans wasn't going too far once he healed, she still wanted to cherish and indulge herself with more of these warming moments. She wanted to enjoy this freedom of spending time together, since it wasn't going to last forever.

He nodded, and finally let her go, if slowly. He was as reluctant for her to leave as she was. 

 "I shall see you when you next want my presence, I suppose." He hummed, but he said it with a little smile. He liked it when she visited. She had asked herself if she was treating him like a bird in a cage to sing for her-- but she had never thought about whether he liked to be her songbird.

The snowflakes ceased, yet she hadn't been paying so much attention to them anymore. 

 "I suppose so," She affirmed, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, with her now free hand. "I guess, I'll see me, wait no, I meant you, ah anyway, I'll see you fairly soon then." Elsa assured with a slight stumble with her words, similar to how she'd done earlier with her feet. "Possibly tomorrow if I'm able." Of course, she was talking about finding time rather than asking permission. She had already been keeping her promise (to the best of her ability) of coming to visit him, if only for a short amount of time. So there was no doubt she'd be back, but she liked to reassure him anyway.

Hans nodded, looking hopeful and encouraged about it. 

As soon as Elsa left, he returned to the bed, to sleep almost instantly. He'd had quite a busy day, after all. But he would sleep comfortable, thinking of all the positive things-- but especially of the snow.

Elsa had gone to sleep much later than she intended, she laid in bed, her mind lost in contemplation. You'd think sleep would come easy after such a lovely evening with both Anna and Hans, and perhaps it would have if something else wasn't tormenting her thoughts. 

 What kept her mind restless was the mystery surrounding why her magic had been acting up that night. It had only caused her powers to amplify and an involuntary snowfall, two things that weren't at all bad, just unexpected. 

 It had also been a different sensation than prior times her magic had been rowdy and that was a bit disconcerting. Something like that had never happened to her before, even blissfully being with Anna, which she believed bore the closest resemblance to what she felt with Hans. Yet with Anna she only felt a warmth that flowed from her heart, a melting sensation, but in a good way. That was not at all what had happened with Hans, she did feel something strange in her heart, but it wasn’t quite the same.

So that brought up the pressing question: Did the new outburst have something special to do with Hans? If so, what was so different? Why did it only happen with Hans and not with Anna too? She started thinking about what made her powers tick, she knew that both fear and love were catalysts that amplified her magic, she hadn't been feeling the former so that only left the latter. Love. Could love really be involved in what caused the outburst? She was certainly fond of Hans, there was no doubt about that, he was her friend now, but could it be she felt something more than amiable affinity? Could she maybe really...no, that'd be silly. Elsa brushed that thought away, perhaps she was overthinking things again, like she tended to. Whatever caused the occurrence Elsa decided it was best not to continue worrying about it that night and instead get some much needed rest.

[janeofcakes]

KYFC..: Chapter 16

Thank you! Thank you, everyone for your support and kind words. It’s been a rough week for a variety of reasons and just when stress was the highest, I got another curve ball. Gotta love that, not to mention your very own Cakey Jane using baseball metaphors. Haha. Anyway, I’m hoping things get better and that you all like the chapter. It has also been a source of anxiety for me and I’m a little hesitant to post it. Thanks to MyBAB, who keeps me on my toes and sometimes adds to my stress.

Here we go. John is on his way back to Detroit to hand in his resignation. No good can come of this. 

---

You didn’t have to cut me off. Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing and I don’t even need your love, but you treat me like a stranger and it feels so rough.                                                                                           --Gotye, Somebody That I Used to Know

Sherlock’s toes tap anxiously on the floor of his office. He can barely keep still, with no practice or even a team workout day, there is little to occupy his mind. Strategy, analysis and new plays usually fill his entire being on post-bout rest days. He certainly has enough work to do, but all he can think about is John. John, navigating the airport with Janine, getting onto the plane that will bring them home. Transporting her to the hospital after they land and settling her into their usual wing. He should soon be in the stadium where Sherlock can see him and make sure with his own eyes that John is well and truly safe. God, it will take everything in his power not to throw his arms around John or leap into the doctor’s arms and wrap his legs around the shorter man’s waist and never let go. Sherlock has spent a shameful amount of time thinking about such a scenario and has complete confidence in John’s ability to bear his weight.

He glances at the wall clock and eyes the red seconds hand as it drifts smoothly around the twelve, ticking off another minute. It is nearly 6:30 in the evening and Mike had sent a text when John left the hospital around 5. He should have been here long ago. The tapping of his toes increases as he continues to think through the day. He had texted John regularly in search of status updates and if he’s honest, because he simply wanted to hear from him, but had received precious few responses from the doctor and every one was brief. It might concern Sherlock if he did not know John more than had his hands full.

Even so, it does concern him. Why is John being so distant? Has he reconsidered what happened between them in Baltimore? Sherlock’s heart sinks as he plummets into the dark hole of doubt he keeps hidden deep inside his mind palace. John has had the time and space to regret it. He probably did go back to the Poe House for the scarf and their tour guide greeted him with it. She would flirt with him and he would respond in kind. Under the impression that John was interested, she had only come on to Sherlock so shamelessly to get John’s attention. A very odd strategy to Sherlock’s way of thinking.

He stops here to consider whether or not John was actually interested. He didn’t seem so inclined, but she was precisely his type, so it was possible. She clearly enjoyed sport. Anyone could see that from the scuffs on her shoes. Her deep love for baggy sweaters, something Sherlock has never understood, would draw them together as well. Add to that her bubbly personality and John couldn’t help but notice her a second time around. John probably went back for the scarf, wearing that absurd oatmeal-colored sweater he likes so much that does absolutely nothing for his figure, and she complimented him on it. They started talking and went to dinner, spent the evening together. Maybe John invited her back to the hotel for drinks and…

Sherlock stops again, closing his eyes and shaking his head like it will shake the thoughts free from his mind. He claws at the walls of doubt, trying to climb back up and escape, but the dirt crumbles in his fingers and he slides down again. He climbs desperately for what feels like hours and grasps at anything he can to pull himself free when he reaches the top. He opens his eyes to see he is still in his office, his laptop still open in front of him and the clock quietly ticking away more time. His gaze shifts around the room as if searching for something to settle on while he tries to think more rationally once again. Practically, John will go back to his own apartment, but there is no reason to believe he is out of danger. The lack of further attempts on his life means nothing. 

Sherlock does not want him to leave regardless. 

He buries his face in his hands and yawns wearily. Sherlock absolutely cannot think about that again. He sighs and opens his eyes, looking at the clock again. He couldn’t even begin to think about sleep the night before and never bothered going to his bedroom. The condo felt cold and lonely without John. Instead of doing anything productive, Sherlock sat in front of MST3K until he fell asleep on the couch somewhere in the middle of Catalina Caper. He awoke hours later, stiff and grumpy until he realized a text from John had been what woke him.

*In the cab heading for the airport. Things are looking good. Janine is not in pain.*

That was at 6:45am, since then there had only been infrequent updates. John would not even engage in conversation when they were on a god awful layover in Chicago. Honestly, why everything has to go through O’Hare is beyond all logic. Still, it is only a day of travel and should not worry Sherlock in the least, but it does. He looks at the clock again and stands to pace, stopping only when his phone suddenly rings. He grabs it quickly and raises it to his ear. The three seconds it takes him to glance at the caller ID and see it is not John slow into minutes, the very air around him crushing the hope right out of his chest. 

“Greg,” he answers gruffly, resting one hand on the desk as he leans against it. 

“John’s on his way to your office,” Greg replies without bothering to greet him. “He’s re…”

Sherlock doesn’t even let Greg finish as he abruptly ends the call when his door is pushed open without warning and John is suddenly standing before him. 

“Sorry. Can I come in?” John’s voice is rough and uncertain.

“Of course,” comes an equally soft reply from Sherlock.

Sherlock watches him move deliberately toward the desk that separates them, only just keeping his own eyes from widening in surprise. John does not look tired from the day of travel and stress. He looks beyond tired. He looks wrecked. There is a stutter in his step and a look in his eyes that can only mean one thing: What transpired between them in Baltimore weighs heavily upon him. Sherlock’s heart sinks for the second time in mere minutes.

“We need to talk,” John avoids looking at him directly. His gaze darts around Sherlock’s desk almost frantically before settling on the stapler. 

Those dreaded words. Sherlock said them to Victor once years ago.

“Yes,” Sherlock rasps, barely able to speak. He is glad Greg phoned him before John walked in so he could face the doctor from behind his desk. He could never make it through this conversation otherwise, his knees already threatening to buckle. He rests both hands on its surface and leans forward. “Greg mentioned it,” he says as evenly as he can.

“He told you?” John looks at him in shock. Trying to appear as normal as possible, Sherlock clears his throat and stands up straight to face him fully.

“He said you were on your way to my office,” Sherlock answers, frustrated that his voice is not his own. Wobbling at the most inopportune time imaginable when he would rather it be steady and reveal nothing. Sherlock takes a breath and tries to use the frustration to his own advantage, trying to compose himself for John’s next words. Trying and failing.

“Oh. Right,” John bites his lower lip and clearly steels himself. Every part of his body says regret. Sherlock closes his eyes slowly. He does not even try to stop himself from doing it, from showing his own emotions. He is too unguarded around John, too comfortable. He never should have let it get to this point or any point. Sentiment. He is such a fool.

“I’ve resigned,” John’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“What?” Sherlock wheezes, his eyes snapping open wide in shock.

“It’s for the best,” John states firmly, looking directly into his unabashed stare.

“No,” Sherlock’s voice sounds strange even to his own ears. He blinks as if trying to focus and closes his mouth with a pop. He feels like he is going to wretch. Staggering backwards, he nearly trips over his chair, but catches himself on the armrests and pushes himself back up. John’s hands reach out instinctively to stop his fall, but stop when he rights himself. They look at one another for a moment with searching, uncertain eyes.

What is going on?

But John doesn’t answer this time. Instead, his blue eyes turn to ice.

“You just have to trust me,” his voice hardens with his eyes.

“You can’t leave,” Sherlock’s words are coming faster and he doesn’t try to slow them down.  He doesn’t care that it lays all his cards on the table or that his body language shows every bit of how he is falling apart.

“I’ll do what I want, Sherlock,” John nearly hisses, slamming his hands flat on the desk in anger. A plain, wooden pen holder falls to the floor and pencils roll under the desk.

“No,” Sherlock insists, tone bordering on desperation. He must stay calm. He cannot let his panic or frustration get the better of him. John is not going to listen if he flies into some kind of crazed, emotional outburst. Sherlock squares his shoulders and takes another deep breath. “You are an excellent physician. The team needs you. I know you haven’t been here long, but you have done so much. All the ladies trust you implicitly. And, frankly, so do I.”

He almost flinches. He sees something in John’s eyes, a glimmer of happiness that says what words cannot. When something means so much there is nothing to say. It fades right before his eyes. John’s shoulders fall as if under a crushing weight and Sherlock’s mind is awash with thoughts and feelings. 

I trust you. I need you. I don’t let anyone in, not like this, but you opened the gates as if you always had the key. What happened, John? Tell me, please.

“John, I…” he can’t say it. He can’t risk it.

“Sherlock, I can’t. I just can’t,” John sighs, shaking his head. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

“No, wait,” he rushes around the desk, but stops abruptly before reaching John, trying to gather himself. He must stay in control. He casts his gaze sidelong and curses his own feelings before looking back at John. “However you feel about me, about...what happened between us, don’t let it hurt the team. Please, John.”

He tries to keep his voice even, but it shakes slightly on the last two words. John stares at him with a startled expression on his face. Sherlock’s sturdy posture wavers as he watches John.

“How I feel about you,” John repeats in dismay, but goes quiet before saying more. He presses his lips into a thin line, affecting a grim countenance and shaking his head. “I have resigned. I’ve told Greg and now you. I’ll tell Mrs. Hudson tomorrow, put it in writing tonight. It’s done.”

Sherlock’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He takes a sharp breath, his eyes on John. How can he make him stay?

“I’ll start cleaning out my office after I speak with Martha,” John continues and then sighs heavily. He touches his own temples in a pained gesture that makes him look more exhausted than when he walked in. “I’m going back to my place tonight. I’ll get my things out of your flat tomorrow evening. I’ll ring you, so you can leave while I’m there.”

“John, no!” Sherlock truly is desperate now and doesn’t give a shit about hiding it or anything else. Fuck staying in control. God, how has everything gone so terribly wrong so quickly? “In Baltimore, what we did, what happened. We can forget it. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he pleads with the man in front of him. If John wants him to, he can lock away all those memories and never touch them again. He has done it before. It will rip him apart this time, but he can do it. They can go back to being friends like before and maybe John would stay in the condo. They could be roommates, just roommates.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” John bites out the words vehemently.

Sherlock can’t stop a quick gasp and silence settles in around them. He can feel his face starting to crumble, his heart starting to fall apart, but just manages to hold his composure so he reveals nothing. All he allows is a mighty crease of his brow and the twitch of an eye. They are not together. They were never together, never a couple. His heart should not be shattered, but it is. It should not feel like his life is ending. John had warned him about this exact scenario. He said he could not love anyone romantically and, even if he could, why would he give his heart away after so little time had passed? He isn’t a complete idiot like Sherlock.

“Sherlock,” the name whispered between them catches his attention, even when he would rather look anywhere but at the man before him. 

Sherlock’s grey eyes, filling with tears he will have to blink back, shoot straight to John’s face. The doctor is clearly beside himself, but trying to hide how undone he is. Somewhere in the background of his mind Sherlock knows that does not make any sense. The evidence does not fit the situation. John should be emotionless or even angry about Sherlock’s display, not anguished.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course it means something. It means…” he shuts his mouth and swallows hard. “It’s Moriarty. He wants to win it all and he’ll do whatever he has to.”

“What?” Sherlock squints in confusion at this sudden outburst of seemingly unrelated information.

“You are right, Sherlock,” he tells him emphatically, stepping forward and placing his hands on the coach’s shoulders. “Keep looking for evidence and watch out for...others.”

“Others?” Sherlock shakes his head slowly. This is not at all what he expected, not by a long shot. He finds his mind shifting from his own panic and sadness toward this new mystery. Part of him tries to stop it, knowing he should stay focused on John, but he cannot. John’s words begin running through his mind over and over again, trying to piece it all together and it takes only seconds for it to fall into place. Something happened while John was in Baltimore alone. It scared him. Moriarty got to him. 

“What did he do?” Sherlock hisses.

The words are out before Sherlock even has the chance to think. His voice is quiet and deadly serious, demanding an answer, but John continues as though he did not hear him.

“It’s Janine. She…” John is warring with himself and if Sherlock was not so distracted with his own thoughts, he would already know exactly what John is trying so hard not to tell him. “Watch everyone! Don’t trust anyone,” John insists again. Suddenly his hands are off Sherlock’s shoulders and he is heading for the door. Sherlock cannot process what just happened or what John said and didn’t say because John is leaving and he can’t. He can’t!

“John, don’t go! Don’t go!” Sherlock lunges forward and wraps his fingers around John’s wrist, holding it with unrelenting strength. “Please, I can’t do it on my own.”

“You’ll be fine, Sherlock,” John says into the space between them, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yes. Fine, but I don’t want to be fine. I don’t want to be anywhere without you,” Sherlock’s words are coming fast, faster than he can think and he has to think faster. John can’t go. He can’t let him go. 

“I need you,” Sherlock whispers, unshed tears obvious in his voice. 

Sherlock does not know if he said that out loud or in his head. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care what he says or reveals. John has to stay. He can’t lose John.

“I love you! I love you,” he blurts in a ragged tone.

They stare at one another. Sherlock is breathing hard, chest heaving. He does not take his eyes off John, his shoulders bobbing up and down less and less as his breathing returns to normal. His mind finally catches up with his traitorous panic and instantly rebukes. Idiot! But he ignores it and repeats quietly. 

“I love you,” his voice is clearer now. Calmer and more collected as his overactive mind comes to rest. He is stating the truth and has never felt more free. 

***

“You...you...you can’t,” John’s voice rasps, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief. He shifts his weight and furrows his brow, a little frown of lines appearing between his eyebrows. Pressing his lips together, he studies Sherlock intently, searching his eyes. “What? You, what? No. No, Sherlock, just no.”

John shakes his head harder with every word that leaves his lips. He tries taking a step toward the door, but the long fingers already wrapped around his wrist tighten. He looks down at those fingers and then back to the coach, seeing a determination that tries to hide pain.

Fuck. Fuck! 

He’s hurting Sherlock. He hadn’t meant those words to sound the way they did. He’s fucking up the whole thing.

“That’s not what I meant,” he begins, but flails. “You… You haven’t known me five minutes. These things take time, feelings take time to form, don’t they? Sherlock, you don’t know me,” he pleads.

“I have not known you long, true,” Sherlock licks his lips, looking at John like he is a spooked deer, “but can we agree that I know you well?”

John does not answer, too shocked to speak, but he nods in affirmation.

“Good. That’s good,” Sherlock inches closer. 

John keeps his gaze on those grey eyes. He could get lost in them, swim in them for hours. He will never tire of them, or of this man. It is all too much and not something his brain is used to handling. His feelings for Sherlock are so strong and he has no idea how to feel about that or what to call them. John does not feel this way about people. It is not that he doesn’t care, he just…

‘I do believe he cares for you.’

“Is there anything in particular that you are hiding from me?” Sherlock asks over Moriarty’s voice in John’s mind. His eyes focus in again.

“Well,” John swallows, “no. I mean, apart from the not falling in love thing and I told you about that. ’Course I would have thought that’d send anyone running.”

“It hasn’t,” Sherlock’s voice is soft, but steady and his grip loosens slightly. He takes another small step closer.

“So I see,” John replies slowly, full of hesitation.

They stare at one another for a long time, each one willing the other to understand what words cannot say. Finally, Sherlock breaks the silence.

“I know I’m not qualified to explain this. Molly has always been far better at it than I,” Sherlock puffs out a breath, a wrinkle of concentration appearing between his eyebrows. John bites his lip and watches the man search for the right words, marveling at how adorable he is and trying not to show it. “She tells me to follow my heart. It’s not a precise science.”

Sherlock stops suddenly, his face full of doubt.

“Look, what I said, it doesn’t have to mean anything. We can forget it,” Sherlock shakes his head, trying for nonchalance and failing.

“No,” John interrupts, taking his own step toward the taller man. They are very close now. He watches Sherlock with a steady gaze, finally feeling the befuddlement lift. It is like stepping from a thick fog and he can finally see the man more clearly. “We can’t. It means too much. It means...everything.”

Sherlock blinks his eyes wide. They sparkle and shine, and John cannot take his own off of them. He wants this man like nothing else in his life. It is not just sexual desire and is not like caring for a friend. John most certainly does care, but it is so much more than that. It is confusing. He still has no idea what to call these feelings or how to handle them. What should he do? What is he supposed to think? It is completely and utterly baffling.

John swallows and lets his lips part, his gaze locked on Sherlock’s face. It falls quickly to the soft, full lips that John felt against his own only two nights ago. They dropped kisses on his neck and body, hot and wanting. He is sure his eyes must be dilated, his face and neck flushing. John shuffles closer and takes Sherlock’s free hand in his own. He can feel Sherlock’s breath on his face, warm and welcoming. John wets his lips and tilts up on his toes as Sherlock bends his neck down and their lips meet.

The kiss is gentle and sweet. John still does not know what this baffling feeling is, but he tries to put every ounce of it into this perfect kiss. It flows through every part of his body and into Sherlock and back. This kiss, it has to be perfect...because it has to be their last.

“I’m sorry,” John pulls away. “I can’t. I can’t stay. I can’t do this.”

“John,” Sherlock’s eyes snap open, his face rife with despair.

“I can’t,“ he pushes Sherlock away with enough force to knock him back two steps. John feels it in his chest suddenly and winces. The pain of his heart clenching and then trying to defenestrate from his body through any window it can find only to thunk into his chest cavity and fall lifeless and defeated. Resisting the urge to clutch at the nearly unbearable pain, John shakes his head and tries to concentrate. He avoids Sherlock’s eyes.

“I don’t know what it means, Sherlock,” he declares in frustration, not even aware of what he is saying until his mind catches up. “I don’t understand it or how I feel about it, but it’s all… It’s exactly why I have to go.”

“To protect me,” Sherlock ventures as if he already knows exactly what Moriarty said to John and only needs confirmation. 

“Yes. No!” John looks at him in growing panic. He can’t say anymore, shouldn’t say anymore. He risks Sherlock’s life with every word. He needs to leave. He never should have come. He should have gone to his flat and phoned Sherlock to tell him all this.

John turns for the door, but Sherlock grabs hold of his arm and yanks him backwards. John twists to free himself, but just gives the lanky-armed bastard more to lock claws on.

“Let me go,” John glares at Sherlock’s hand and then meets his gaze again. He repeats himself in a low, dark voice. “Let. Me. Go.”

Sherlock does not obey the command and the part of his brain works through every strategy, every bout, seems to have kicked into overdrive.

“You’re afraid of Moriarty,” Sherlock is saying now and goddammit, John has already killed him.

“No, Sherlock! Let go,” John lurches forward, taking the coach with him. He has wrapped his long limbs around John like a snake and any attempt to escape results in tightening coils.

John lurches again and they slam against the door. Rolling them against the wall, John pins Sherlock with his body and tries to wiggle free. When he succeeds in getting an arm out, Sherlock pushes off the wall and sends them tumbling to the floor. John comes down with a crack, the coach atop his body. Sherlock takes advantage of the split-second pause John needs to get his bearings, quickly straddling his hips and pushing his wrists to the floor with his hands. Though the two men are very similar in strength, the force of his weight and the fulcrum created by his height play in Sherlock’s favor.

“Sherlock, get the fuck off of me!” John shouts, thrashing this way and that.

“Talk to me, John! Tell me what’s wrong,” Sherlock insists, struggling to hold him still. “Please don’t shut me out.”

“Get off!” John huffs angrily.

“We can do this together,” Sherlock implores.

“No!” John shouts.

“Tell me why you’re doing this because this isn’t you,” Sherlock is begging now and it is tearing at John’s heart.

“It’s too dangerous!” John blurts, already hating himself. He wrenches his arms from Sherlock’s grip and twists his body into a roll. Unfortunately, the bastard just uses the momentum to roll John onto his back again. He looks down at the doctor and grumbles in frustration. John can feel it rumble through his chest. He tries to continue the struggle, but his heart is severed and bleeding out. John is exhausted. He wants to stay with Sherlock forever, but protecting him means leaving. He squeezes his eyes shut and doesn’t try to stop the moisture in them from slipping out.

“Tell me, John. Please,” Sherlock’s voice is low and gentle. It pleads and also demands. It is that voice that makes John stop trying to free himself. That soothing voice coupled with gentle hands tracing a path down his chest.

He raises his gaze to look at Sherlock, beautiful and panting. John’s hands come to rest on Sherlock’s thighs and another tear slips from his eye. He lets his body relax as he loses himself in those eyes, swirling and deep. Greens and blues merging with grey, all focused on John. They can see into John’s mind and pull free the worry and fear. 

John tilts his head to the left and looks at Sherlock thoughtfully. Warm fingers cup his cheek, a thumb wiping away a tear that slowly trickles down. John closes his eyes again and leans into the touch. He can still see Sherlock’s face in his mind’s eye, smiling like he has a secret only the two of them know. His lips part as he bends forward to whisper in John’s ear:

“He threatened you...forcing you to resign...we’ll do it together...you’re not alone...never alone…”

“Sherlock,” John gasps, opening his eyes and seeing that the two of them are now side by side facing one another on the floor. When the hell did that happen? His eyes were only closed for a moment. Sherlock is looking at him, searching. Had he asked a question? And then it hits John with the force of a truck. 

Alone.

John had felt it deep down in his bones when Bill died, the crushing sense of being truly alone. It took a long time, but he had moved on. At least, he thought he had worked through it and left those feelings behind. Now John can see that he only hid it from himself. Somehow, over the years, especially since his parents died, he convinced himself that alone was better. Alone is what I have. Alone protects me. No real relationships, no love, or close friends. Nothing to tie him to anyone and then coming here turned his life upside down. He likes the skaters, genuinely. And Greg and Martha and Sherlock. He likes Sherlock? No, it’s more. So much more and something he can’t even begin to understand.

“He threatened you,” John finally says in a soft, breathless tone. He meets Sherlock’s eyes and cups the man’s face with both hands. “He will kill you. If I stay, if I tell you anything about why I’m leaving, if I do anything but resign and go, he’ll kill you. You’re too important to me, Sherlock. You’re...I…”

John trails off as his voice gives out. He has no idea what to say anyway, and no idea what he even wants to say. He wants Sherlock to know, to understand how he feels, but he is not sure himself. What he does know is that he has put Sherlock in grave danger. He has killed him with his words.

“God, what have I done?” John mumbles as he releases Sherlock’s face and covers his own eyes.

“He’s lying,” Sherlock’s voice books no argument.

“What?” utter confusion showing on John’s expressive face as he uncovers it.

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Sherlock sits up and offers his hand to John, who takes it and pulls up to sit with him. “If I was a target, he would have made it known by now.”

“And you’re willing to risk your life on the strength of that?” John asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” Sherlock answers simply. “He wants me to witness his victory. To feel the defeat knowing I have done everything possible to stop him and failed. That is what Moriarty wants.”

He leans close to John and covers his hand where it rests on the floor between them. 

“He won’t hurt me,” he smiles softly at John.

“I wish I could believe that,” John says, resigned. 

“It’s true, John. I’d stake my life on it,” Sherlock promises. 

“You are,” John snaps louder. Incredulous disbelief racks his body, making it restless and twitchy. He wants to put his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders or around his arms, but sort of gestures aimlessly between the two of them instead. “I can’t believe you’re being so blase about this. We’re talking about your life!”

“And Molly’s and yours,” Sherlock finishes, watching John with razor sharp eyes. With this one look Sherlock makes it clear just how seriously he takes it. “And every skater on our track. You help keep us all safe and alive when we are all at risk. Think, John, think!”

He grasps John’s arms hard, his eyes intense and completely focused on the doctor. John knows exactly what Sherlock is going to say and it is a sound argument. Can he really step away from the team knowing the danger they are in?

“Molly would be dead without you! No one else would have seen what you did in time to save her. That’s why Moriarty wants you to walk away,” Sherlock sounds so sure.

A thought unbidden pops into John’s mind and it sets every gear turning in the opposite direction. How likely is Moriarty to honor their agreement? Rock City and its coach with no doctor…not likely.

“You are a complication, John. An unknown variable. He will tell you whatever he needs to to make you go. He. Is. Lying,” Sherlock pauses to really look at John and, for the first time since Baltimore, John opens himself to the man - mind, body and soul. Sherlock’s mouth falls open at the sudden contrast and John almost wants to giggle, in spite of himself. The quippy coach, brilliant and ever unruffled in post-bout interviews, is speechless. John wants to kiss him. He wants to pull him to his body and kiss those ridiculous cheekbones, his forehead and nose, cheeks and eyelids. God, this man. John has no idea how to understand the depth of his feeling for this man.

“You’re right,” John nearly gasps, the air heavy with emotion. He swallows hard. Swallows down the desire to forget it all and just be with Sherlock. “Whether you’re on the list or not, he’ll keep to his plan. My leaving just increases the danger.”

John nods as he speaks, more to himself, but agreeing with Sherlock nonetheless.

“Exactly,” Sherlock says sensibly. His expression is a bit smug and smacks of ‘There is no other way to view it, John’.

This time the doctor almost does smile, but holds it at bay. There is one more very important thing he must say to the infuriating man before him. John reaches for him quickly, cupping his face in between his hands. Sherlock’s cheeks are warm and soft and perfect on John’s palms. His thumb strokes a cheekbone of its own volition. John looks deeply into those grey eyes. Flecks of green and blue sparkle back, telling him everything, every secret of a man normally so guarded.

“So help me, Sherlock, if you are wrong, I don’t know what…” John’s voice hitches and the words are gone. His tone was a raspy whisper said all in a rush and he thought he could make it through, but welling emotion got the better of him. He swallows hard and tries again.

“I don’t know what I would do,” he drops his head.

It’s true. It may be ridiculous, but it’s true. John has never needed anyone, not since Bill and his parents were gone, and that was fine. He built up his walls and did his job, lived his life and then in walked Sherlock Holmes and it was just....fate.

Words suddenly fill John’s mind, reverberating off the walls of his skull. A song he has not heard in years. Not since he watched a certain movie with his mother. It was the last one they saw together.

I’ve grown accustomed to his face. He almost makes the day begin.

How many times has he felt that way as he walked into Sherlock’s kitchen to see him standing by the stove, making those special eggs?

“Oh god, Sherlock,” he breathes, a tear streaking down his cheek. “I want you in my life. I want you forev…”

John bites his lip. Keeps in the word.

Sherlock watches him with soft and shining eyes. He sighs and tilts his head in John’s hands as he closes the gap between them. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips, Sherlock breathes against John’s mouth and then tips his chin down to rest their foreheads together. 

“I will always be by your side, John. Always,” he promises and for the first time in a long time, John believes those words wholeheartedly.

---

Yay!! Yay, Jane, you have taken mercy upon us! John tried, he did, but lying to Sherlock was too much for him AND he’s that much closer to seeing his true feelings for Sherlock. How great is the moment when Sherlock just  blurts it out? “I love you!” and he doesn’t try to take it back. He just lets it be. John’s reaction is the greatest too. “You...you can’t. You haven’t known me five minutes.” Hahaha! I love it! I mean, I’m clearly biased so please let me know what you think. I don’t want to beg, but I’m not above it and it has been a bad week. Any encouragement is more than welcome and VERY appreciated. You all mean so much to me. I’m going to be honest. The next couple weeks could be hard and I may not get the next two chapters out on Sundays, but I’ll do my best. Please be with me in spirit. I will definitely be with you. Until next time, my friends. I love you. Jane

@zentris @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @tooolforthissh--stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedsstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa  @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow @one-thousand-splendid-stars @irina12maria

[btswrckd]

Not Afraid Anymore

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You didn’t think Jungkook could you want you in any way other than friendship but it seems you were wrong.

Warnings: Idol au, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, poorly written smut

A/N: I’m not going to lie to you guys, I have no title (literally, it’s just the song I was listening to when I wrote it) and no real summary for this, but I found it sitting in my drafts and remembered that I had promised this long before I started working on Hunting a Hybrid. Also, it’s not going to stay this way, I have much bigger plans for this fic but I wanted to post it because I neglected it for so long. Hope you enjoy anyways!

P.S. If you’re curious about the song, it’s Not Afraid Anymore by Halsey for the Fifty Shades Darker soundtrack.

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

“It's too early for this.” You groaned while bundled up in Jin's hoodie and dropped your head to Taehyung's shoulder. “How do you guys constantly get up at the ass crack of dawn like this?”

“You learn to get used to it.” Taehyung kissed your temple and chuckled at the way you flailed your arms about in a small tantrum. “I told you to get some rest but no, you had to---.”

“Don't say it.” You warned and pinched his arm. “Why do I always have to remind you guys to be careful with what you say when we're in public?” 

“Taehyung, behave,” Jin strode up to the two of you, leaning down to brush a kiss to your forehead. “Y/N's right. We're around all kinds of people everyday and we never know who’s recording what. Not everyone will understand our relationship. We’re lucky the team we have now tolerates our actions.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Taehyung bowed his head in apology before being called away for his change of clothes. 

You let out a long sigh and sank into the cushions of the couch. Watching the multitude of people swarm around the room, you always wondered how the 7 men got used to the bumbling and bustling.

“Remind me again why I agreed to be part of this music video.” You asked Jisoo, the longest makeup artist to stick with the company and your best friend when she held up a black bag. 

“Because you love the guys.” She giggled as you took the bag from her. “And because their management team has something pretty juicy up their sleeves for this comeback. Can you imagine all the theories the fans will come up with?”

“You mean can I imagine all the fans finally figuring out I'm sleeping with 6 members of Bangtan and then roasting me alive? Yes, yes I can.” 

“Oh my god,” Jisoo rolled her eyes and pushed you in the direction of the dressing room. “You're being dramatic. The guys would never let that happen to you and the fans will be knee deep in wondering why BigHit put out a music video with a more adult theme than the guys have ever had. So the fans pick up on something going on between you and the guys, that's what good actors do.”

“And the trophy for number one fan of Bangtan goes to...” You snorted as she shoved you for teasing her and you fell into a solid chest.

“Ah, noona, are you okay?”

You blinked up at Jungkook and somehow lost the ability to speak. His large hands clasping your hips tight and keeping you steady left you a stuttering mess. Jungkook had been the only member to never sleep with you, never even try to sleep with you. You couldn't say you weren't a little offended, but you also knew it was quite selfish of you to want him in that way when he had no interest in you. 

“Kook.” You blushed at his fingers dipping underneath your shirt to keep a firm grip on you. Your hands curled into the fabric of the leather jacket he had just changed in to. “Um, hi.”

“Hi, noona,” He shook his head, his lips curling up into a teasing smile. He really did love to get a rise out of you, it was easily his favorite way to pass the time. He tilted his head to the side, a seemingly innocent gesture to anyone not frequently hovering around him.

To you it was his way of making you feel like a child when you would sputter and huff out a frustrated breath at not being able to string together an intelligent sentence. Truthfully, you wondered how Namjoon put up with you most of the time. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook repeated, breaking you from your thoughts. “Did you not sleep well? You were up pretty late.”

“Jeon Jungkook!” You hissed and stepped out of his hold. You weren't too sure why you were embarrassed at having been heard by him the previous night. Maybe it was because when he was in the house, you did your best not to disturb him when you were being intimate with another member. 

But he was home last night, he heard everything, and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. 

“Can you please go get dressed?” Jisoo ushered you away and into a nearby dressing room. “We're running behind schedule.”

Jungkook watched you go, letting his eyes drop to the sway of your hips. Of course he wanted to be with you. He'd have to be an idiot not to. But there was a lingering fear that he wouldn't be enough for you. He was the youngest member and while he was by no means a virgin, he wasn't as experienced as his elders. 

“Could you be anymore obvious?” Jisoo’s voice had him jumping, not having realized she was still standing next to him. 

“You scared the life out of me.” He put his hand to his racing heart and sighed while she laughed and patted his back. “What are you talking about? Obvious about what?”

“You like Y/N,” She clarified as she tugged on his sleeve to bring him to her makeup station, sitting him in her chair to touch up his hair. “Don’t deny it, Jeon Jungkook, it’s written all over your face. Why don’t you tell her?”

“Because what if I’m not good enough.” Jungkook mumbled. “My hyungs are more...experienced. I wouldn't want to disappoint her.”

She rolled her eyes and swept some hair from his face, “You've seen her drool over you. I very highly doubt you'll disappoint her.”

Just as he was about to speak, you emerged from the room Jisoo had ushered you into and his breath hitched at the sight of you; Jisoo had picked out a gorgeous black dress that left little to the imagination. He watched you tug at the hem as if that was going to make it grow longer. 

“Oh my god, you look amazing!” Jisoo squealed, running over to you and hauling into a chair next to Jungkook. “I told you a lace bodice would look good on you miss 'it's gonna be too tight'.” She turned to Jungkook with a smirk as he took a sudden interest in his own reflection. “It looks good, right Jungkook?”

“Mmhmm, yeah, looks great.” He scratched at the back of his neck and let out an awkward cough. 

You slumped in your chair, any hopes of getting a compliment out of him long gone. Crossing your knees, you grumbled at having to repeatedly pull on the end of your dress to keep it from riding up your thighs. You hated dresses, they were a pain and the way the lace clung to your frame was not appreciated. You could barely move in the material. How the hell were you supposed to get through the choreography? 

You wiggled around in your chair as Jisoo tried her best to keep you in place to apply your makeup. The foundation felt heavy on your skin even when she swore it was only a thin layer, teasing you for trying to swat her hand away as she brought a shade of red lipstick to your mouth.

“Honestly, if you're not going to hold still then I'm going to tie you down.” She nudged your shoulder, whispering in your ear, “And I'll get Jungkook to help.”

A blush crept up your collarbone and cheeks, resembling a tomato as she laughed and stalked off to find a curling iron. It was official, you hated your best friend. 

A sudden weight on your knees caught your attention and you glanced at your lap to find Jungkook's leather jacket draped over your legs. You looked up in time to find his face right in front of yours, his eyes boring into yours and you swore he could hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Kook?” Your breathed fanned across his face and he smiled at you, his bunny teeth breaking through and you squeezed your thighs together as an unexpected pang of arousal shot through you. You were mortified as he raised a brow, having noticed the action.

“You seem uncomfortable in your dress, noona.” He observed. “Doesn't Jisoo have another one picked out just in case?”

“I uh,” You toyed with the leather of his jacket and focused on the mirror behind him. Which was clearly a mistake as you saw the muscles of his back flex beneath his dress shirt. “Th-This one is fine. I mean I can't really move as freely as when I'm in sweatpants, but…”

“You look really gorgeous,” Jungkook backed away when Jisoo approached your chair, curling iron in one hand and a hair brush in the other. 

“I've been waiting forever to finally get ahold of you long enough to curl your hair,” She pulled the elastic band from your ponytail and began brushing it out. She eyed Jungkook after seeing his jacket on your knees, “Did you get cold or something?”

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

It took a good 20 minutes for Jisoo to release your final curl from the iron, hairspray following soon after. She grinned and fluffed your curls with excitement. 

“You look so good!” She squealed, shaking your shoulders and you laughed at her enthusiasm. “Oh, we have some other backup dresses in the next room if you want to take a look. I know that one must feel a little short.”

“Thank you!” You stood from her chair and stretched your hands above your head, hearing your back pop in the process and you let out a satisfied moan. Forgoing the heels picked out for you, you stepped into a pair of slippers and made your way to the room next door.

The most expensive of dresses lined a clothing rack right next to the boys’ outfits. A beautiful ballet halter dress caught your eye, the white starting at the neckline flowing down into an aqua blue color as it reached your calves. Taking it off the rack and stripping from the current dress you had on, you pulled on a pair of spandex shorts before slipping the new dress over your head. The material flared out more and more after it reached your hips, giving you a lot more room to work with and you smiled. 

Hearing the click of the door behind you had you spinning around to face whoever walked in. A small laugh made its way out of your mouth at Jungkook admiring the new dress. “Hey. You scared me, Kookie.”

“Sorry, noona,” He chuckled and let his eyes roam your face, jaw clenching when you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “I um, was coming to see if you were okay. You didn’t look comfortable in Jisoo-noona’s chair earlier.”

“I’m okay,” You nodded, grabbing the material of your dress and swaying the material to show how easy it was to move in. “Much better actually. Did you see how tight that other one was? I love Jisoo’s sense of style but I like this one a lot more.”

“Of course,” Jungkook gave you a warm smile and took the time to scan you from head to toe while you were preoccupied with looking through the duffel bag you’d brought with you.

You were intent on finding your jazz flats; heels weren’t going to be much help in the type of choreography Hoseok had taught you in the last few weeks. Finally finding your split-soles, you gestured for Jungkook to come closer and he obeyed silently, debating on whether or not it was a good idea to be close to you when he was already half hard from your earlier dress.

He stood tall next to you, watching as you clamped a hand on his shoulder to keep your balance as you slipped the shoes on. His mouth parted in awe as you tested them for flexibility, bouncing from one foot to the other, stretching your leg as far back behind you as you could, and standing on the tips of your toes as if to break the shoes in some more. He always marveled at your dance skills that easily rivaled or sometimes even dominated Hoseok’s.

“What do you think, Jungkookie?” You managed to snap him from his thoughts, blushing when his dark eyes ventured from your breasts to your face. “Does it...look okay?”

“You’re beautiful as always. There’s not a day you look anything but, noona.” His eyes focused on the small blotch of lipstick staining your chin.

“Oh, um, you’ve got…” Jungkook gestured to the side of his mouth, smiling when you wiped away at your own face but missing the small stain.

“No, here,” He stepped close and lifted his hand to skim his fingers across your face. “How is it that you managed to smudge your lipstick right after Jisoo applied it?”

“Ah, you know I fuss a lot when she does my makeup.” You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and turned away from his gaze, leaning against the empty table behind you. “The stylists are going to kill you for barging in on me, you know? You should head back out there. I’ll be done in a minute.”

Jungkook didn’t move for a solid minute before deciding ‘fuck it’ and pressed his hips to yours, crowding you and planting both palms on either side of your body to keep you in place. “I’ll just tell them I came to check on you. Since your face was all red back there.”

“Right.” You attempted to sound as normal as possible, but you knew that was a lost cause when he chuckled and used one hand to brush the hair from your face. “I just, um---.”

“Why do you always blush around me, noona?” Jungkook leaned close to plant a soft kiss to your cheek, your body stiffening at the sudden act of affection. If it weren't for all the times he'd caught you staring at his every move when you thought you were being subtle, he would have backed away. Panic would have washed over him and he'd try to play it off as his awkward attempt at joking if he didn't know you inside and out. “Do you still see me as just a kid?”

“What? O-Of course not, Jungkook. I---.”

“Then can I kiss you?” He was closer than before now, his nose and lips brushing against your own and you found yourself chasing after his almost kiss when he pulled back. “Please?”

You could only nod wordlessly, your knees buckling at the first press of his lips and he had to wrap one arm around your waist to keep you from falling. One of your hands came off the table to press against his chest while the other slid its way up to tangle in his hair. 

Your lips were soft and warm as they moved in sync with his, the smallest of moans miffed by the sudden prodding of his tongue. He coaxed your mouth open with small licks and nips of his teeth on your bottom lip. 

“Kook,” You broke away from him as breathing was soon becoming a problem. His mouth instead moving down your jaw to decorate the expanse of your neck in purple bruises. “You know Jisoo's going to kill you for marking me up.” 

“Jisoo's not as scary as she likes to think.” Jungkook reached down to cup the back of your thighs and lift you onto the table, burying his face into your neck and inching his fingers up higher until they met the hem of your spandex shorts. 

“Jungkook,” You breathed against his ear before he pulled back to peel the material down to pool at his feet, “are you sure? You know your hyungs and I never pushed---ah!”

His thumbed pushed past the lace of your panties and thrummed against your clit before he slipped a finger past your wet folds, slowly adding another. “I know. I know you did your best to make me comfortable, noona. Your relationship with my brothers was always your business. But, fuck, I can't help it anymore. You're so gorgeous, noona, and you sound so pretty when you moan. Won't you make those sounds for me too?”

You gasped, looping your arms around his neck and tugging on his hair. Your legs crossed behind his back and you rocked your hips up to meet the thrusting of his fingers. “God, Jungkook.”

“Just like that, baby.” Jungkook groaned at your juices coating his fingers while his other hand worked on undoing his belt.  

You pulled back to untuck his shirt from his pants, undoing the buttons quickly. “This isn't how I'd imagined being with you for the first time.”

“I know, noona,” He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, deepening it while your hands worked at the zipper of his jeans. “I promise we have plenty of time to go slow later. I just need to be inside you right now.”

“Mmm I don't know, Kookie,” You slipped your hand into his boxers, running your fingers along the length of his cock. Your mouth went dry at how thick he was, your forefinger having trouble touching your thumb. “Do you deserve it? You did make me wait all this time, after all. Maybe I should make you wait until we get back to the dorms.”

A growl made its way up Jungkook's throat as he hit a particular spot inside of you, making you arch your back. “That's not a game you want to play with me, sweetheart.” 

“Ah, Jungkookie,” You giggled and pumped your hand slowly, your thumb coming around to swipe at the precum pooling on the head of his cock. You smirked as his head fell forward to your shoulder and his hips rocked into your touch, thrusting into your hand while your grip tightened slightly. “I think I’d win that game pretty easily.”

He moaned at the feel of your lips against his neck, sucking pretty bruises into his skin and his fingers curled inside of you, a small whimper leaving you. He knew you wanted to be able to control the situation, and any other day he would gladly let you if time was something to be spared. Today though, you were all on a schedule and were already running late, he didn’t want anyone barging into the room in search of you.

Jungkook pulled his fingers away and lifted you up, turning and sitting on the table while pulling you onto his lap. Bunching your dress up and gathering both of your wrists in one hand, he pulled your chest flush against his. 

“We've both waited long enough, noona,” He used his free hand to pull his cock free from his jeans, using the head to run along your folds and coat himself in your juices. Pushing your panties to the side, he felt your thighs tremble before sheathing himself fully inside. 

“Fuck!” You whimpered and dropped your head to his shoulder. His size took much more time adjusting to than the 6 other members. “W-why...how are you so...big?”

He gripped your hips roughly and rocked you back and forth on his lap. Your breath hitched with every movement, feeling the sweet drag of his cock against your walls. “All those nights I had to listen to you and my brothers,” he bucked his hips up to meet your thrusts, “all this time I had to listen to you beg for them to touch you. How do you think I felt?”

You turned your head to brush your lips against his neck and listened to the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. Chewing on your bottom lip, you tried your best to conceal your moans but it was proving to be difficult with the way he slammed into you. “You know I wanted you too, Kookie. You know how much I wanted you to touch me too.”

“Yeah? How bad did you want me, Y/N?” Jungkook cupped the back of your head and pulled your mouth up to his. “Did you think of me when you were with my brothers? Like last night when Jimin-hyung fucked you in the shower?” 

“Y-Yes,” You admitted because their shared bathroom was right next to Jungkook's room and you knew he could hear everything so there was no sense in denying it. “I w-wanted you to hear.”

“Oh? Why is that?” He planted his feet firmly, grinding up into you as hard as he could, almost like punishment. “Does hyung know I was on your mind when he had you on your knees for him?”

“Yes!” You cried out at a particularly harsh thrust, hissing when his fingernails dug into the skin of your neck, your knees burning red from rubbing against the plastic table, “Yes, Jimin knew. It wa-was his idea. Said he wanted you to kn-know what you were missing. Fuck, Kook!”

“You want to cum, baby?” He felt your walls clench around him, making a mental note to kill Jimin later. The sudden ringing of his phone didn't phase him as he let go of your neck and dug into his pocket, answering with a growl. “Hyung?”

“Where the hell are you?” Namjoon asked through grit teeth. “And where is Y/N? Jisoo is looking for her and let me tell you---.”

Namjoon's rant was cut off by Jungkook's groan and your accompanying moan. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he had to scan the room to make sure no one was too close to overhear him. “Are you guys…? Jeon Jungkook, you better not have hauled her off for some quickie right before we're about to shoot.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook let out a breathless chuckle and dropped his head back as you rolled your hips, lifting yourself up and dropping back down at an achingly slow pace. “She just looked so good, hyung. So pretty and the way she clenched her thighs together when I got near her...ugh, fuck, she feels so good.”

“Yeah, only took you long enough.” Namjoon snorted and tried to discreetly adjust himself. He always did get off to the sounds of you and one of his members. “Maybe here and now of all places wasn't the best timing. Are you even listening?!”

“No,” Jungkook moved his free hand down to rub circles on your clit, not even bothering to lie. “Are you close, baby? You look so beautiful when you cum and it's going to be all for me, right pet?”

Namjoon took in a deep breath and tried to focus on something other than your whines and instead hearing the rustling of fabric. “You better not be messing up her dress, Kook, you hear me?”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist and held you steady, grinding his hips up and hissing as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “Don't worry, hyung, I'm not going to dirty her dress. Our little pet is going to let me cum inside, right baby?”

You nodded as a choked sob left your mouth, clinging to his shoulders and combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Use your words.” Jungkook demanded with grit teeth and moved his free hand up to your back, splaying his fingers between your shoulder blades. “Where am I gonna cum, baby? Say it. Say it loud enough for Namjoon-hyung to hear.”

“Inside, Jungkook, pl-please cum inside me.” You were breathless and struggling to form coherent sentences but years of sleeping with someone as dominant as his older brothers taught you that when they ask, you answer. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon groaned from his side of the phone. “You better be careful, Jungkook, I'm not kidding. None of us have ever...we always wear condoms.”

“She's been a good girl, hyung,” Jungkook panted and felt your walls clench around him once more, a curse falling from his lips. “She's been taking her birth control pills.”

“Ah, Jungkook!” You cried when he pulled you close and bit down on the skin of your neck, decorating it in purple. 

“She knows how much I've wanted to be inside her like this, right sweetheart? Tell hyung how much you want it.”

You whimpered as he put the phone to your ear and you heard Namjoon's ragged breathing. “Yes! Yes, I want it. Please, Joon, please can I have it?”

“Goddamnit,” Namjoon cursed and had to turn away from the crowd of stylists surrounding him to put the finishing touches on his face and hair. “Yes, princess, you can have it. Take all of Kookie's cum like a good girl.”

Dropping his phone to the floor, Jungkook shot up from the table to press you flat against it and he pushed your legs up to your chest while his cock sank deeper, hitting that spot that had you keening.

Your own hand came up to clamp over your mouth in hopes of muddling the cries that accompanied his harsh thrusts, the coil that formed long ago in the pit of your belly finally snapping and your back arched up with the intensity of your orgasm. 

“Shit,” He leaned his forehead against yours where your lips met in a kiss made of nothing but teeth and tongue. The small press of your fingers against his abdomen had him slowing his hips until he was simply fit snug inside of your cunt. “Please, noona, just a little more.”

“I just…” You whimpered as he shifted his weight impatiently, “I need a second, Kook.”

Jungkook nodded, little droplets of sweat dripping onto your cheek as he peppered your neck and collar bone with kisses and little nips of his teeth. He felt your hands ghosting across his chest as if familiarizing yourself with every muscle, his body shuddering when one hand snuck its way underneath his shirt and your nails dug into his skin. Your fingers caressed up the length of his neck, to his jaw, and then to his cheek where he turned and kissed the palm of your hand lovingly. 

Propping yourself up on one elbow forced Jungkook to give you some space and let your legs dangle on either side of his. You were too lost in the way his eyes held yours to notice when he gave an experimental thrust. Then two, then three and before you knew it, he had set another pace that had your toes curling. 

“You can give me one more, can't you noona?” Jungkook straightened his back and hitched your thigh over his hip to give him a different angle, his pace relentless. “You'll be a good girl and cum again for me, won't you?”

“Shit, shit, shit!” You chanted as another orgasm washed over you, triggering his own and he painted your walls white with ropes of cum. Feeling his fingers grip your chin, his lips were on yours to muffle his groans while he rocked against you gently.

Your heavy breathing and his filled the room as he rode out his orgasm, your chest rising and falling heavily and you let out a small laugh, “Kookie, the stylists are going to kill you.”

“Mmm,” He scrunched his nose up in a smile, “then I'd die happy.”

“You're a brat.” You teased and slapped his shoulder, pushing him away gently, a mix of your juices and his trickling down your thigh. 

He snorted and reached under your dress to collect it and used two fingers to push his cum back inside your sensitive folds. “This stays in you, Y/N. Not a drop spills or Namjoon-hyung will punish you.”

You nodded with a blush dusting across your cheeks and readjusted your dress to look as presentable as possible. 

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair and knew he was going to catch hell for messing up the clothes that had been laid out for the both of you. He tucked his now soft cock back into his pants and cupped your face to leave a small peck on your lips. “I love you, noona.”

Your stomach flipped, butterflies fluttering like you were a teenager again and hearing those words for the first time ever. “I love you too, Jungkookie.”  

He pulled back to let you stand and smooth down your dress before he took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together to guide you back to the awaiting crew.

“Everyone's staring.” You mumbled as you stepped out of the dressing room and immediately caught the attention of the 6 other boys. 

“What the hell?!” Jisoo seethed and stormed up to the two of you, poking Jungkook in the chest. “Have you lost your mind, Jeon Jungkook? Do you know how long it took me to do her makeup and now I have to cover up more hickies? Your hyungs are bad enough.”

Jungkook ducked his head in apology and let her take you back to her makeup chair. He stalked over to his seniors and blushed when Namjoon clapped him on the back. 

“What's gotten into you?” Namjoon chuckled while Hoseok pinched his cheek. “You know you didn't even hang up the damn phone. Jimin's ready to burst.”

“Hyung,” Jimin pouted and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans in attempt to hide his arousal.

“Our Jungkookie's becoming a man, Namjoon.” Hoseok cooed as Jungkook slapped his hands away.

“Pet,” Namjoon repeated in a teasing tone, “sweetheart, baby. Someone's been listening in on us.”

“Well the walls aren't exactly soundproof!” Jungkook looked away from his seniors as another makeup artist approached them, using a makeup wipe to clean his neck and face, ridding him of the red lipstick stains.

“Our little Kookie's finally grown up.” Taehyung put a hand to his chest and wiped away an invisible tear. “We're so proud.”

“Stop it,” You warned, approaching them with a fresh coat of lipstick and the hickies nowhere to be found thanks to Jisoo.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Namjoon took you in his embrace and kissed the top of your head.

“Sore.” You whispered in hopes of not embarrassing Jungkook more. “The hell have you guys been teaching him?”

“He learned all that on his own.” Namjoon smirked down at you. “It was pretty hot though.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” You pushed away from him and crossed your arms. “Can you be any more embarrassing?”

“Oh Jungkook! Oh Kookie! Please can I have it?! I want it!” Namjoon mocked and laughed as your jaw fell in horror before your fist reared back and came forward to connect with his stomach. He doubled over in pain as his other members laughed and Jungkook tried to sink in on himself to disappear.

“You know what? Just for that,” You huffed and glanced around to see if anyone was listening, “Kookie's the only one who can touch me for the next week.”

“What?!” The 6 other members gaped at you.

“Why am I being punished?!” Taehyung whined. “I didn't even do anything!”

You crooked your finger at Jungkook and wrapped your arms around his neck when he got close enough. You smiled as his bunny teeth broke through his grin and you really wanted to give him another kiss but one look from Jisoo had you pouting and stepping away before you got into any more trouble.

3 Days Later:

You didn't remember how you ended up flat on your back on the kitchen counter with Jungkook buried balls deep inside you but you were pretty sure it was his intention to be so just as his older brothers walked through the door. 

Yoongi was the first to spot you two, stopping dead in his tracks and barely budging as each member behind him ran into his back. His pupils blowing out at the sight of your naked body clinging to Jungkook's like your life depended on it and your breasts bouncing against the maknae's chest with each harsh thrust. 

His hands curled into fists, his blunt nails digging into the skin as a way to keep himself from hauling you off. They were being punished for teasing Jungkook and now they all had to watch Jungkook's lips suck at your skin greedily and your fingers tugging on his hair. 

Yoongi figured that you used this time to familiarize yourself with Jungkook's likes and dislikes, and to your surprise and his seniors, you quickly learned that Jungkook was not a fan of condoms. He was the first of the members to fuck you without one and you both knew that it meant Taehyung probably gathered every condom in the house and threw them out.

“Kookie,” You gasped out as your other hand brushed down his back, your nails biting into his skin. You heard the sounds of the keypad and tapped Jungkook's shoulder to try and get his attention but it was useless as his mouth worked at your neck. It was when Namjoon rounded the corner to catch your eye that you braced your hands against Jungkook's chest to push him away. 

“No, no, princess,” Namjoon's firm command didn't deter Jungkook, who instead wound his arm beneath your knee. “It's okay, baby, let Jungkookie make you feel good.”

You could have cried if it felt any better. Jungkook was long and thick, leaving you to wonder how the hell he could wear such tight pants. “Fuck!”

Jungkook grunted in agreement as he buried himself to the hilt, making you come undone. His lips moved lower to your chest to feather kisses along your heaving breasts. You were both sweaty and spent but he really had no care in the world as he took his time coaxing you to relax with small brushes of his lips.

“You look tired, baby,” Namjoon frowned and reached over to push your sweat soaked hair from your face. “Jungkookie, did you make sure your noona was alright?”

Jungkook only nodded while trying to catch his breath, decorating your chest in love bites and glancing up at his senior.

“Are you still hard, Kook?” Namjoon shot him a glare. Of course the little devil would time it just right so his brothers could catch a glimpse of what they were missing.

“Yes,” Jungkook panted into your bruising skin, “But I'm okay noona, I don't have to---.”

“Kookie, relax,” You soothed him with a soft kiss, “it's okay.”

“Ah, but you're tired and I---.”

“Need a cold shower.” Taehyung piped up from the living room and Jungkook blushed a deep shade of red.

You smiled gently at him, running your hands down his chest and admiring his tanned skin. “I'm okay, Jungkook. Keep going. Please.”

“Can you even still handle it, baby?,” Hoseok was suddenly next to Namjoon, Yoongi not far behind. “You look exhausted. Jungkook-ah, how long have you…?”

“Since you left.” You hummed as if you hadn't been out of breath a moment ago. 

“What?” Yoongi blanched, trying to decide if he should be impressed with Jungkook’s stamina or pissed that there was still a whole 4 days left before he could get his hands on you. 

“That's the appeal of a younger man, hyung,” Jungkook teased, rolling his hips gently and hoping he wasn’t overstimulating you.

“Yah, you little brat!” Yoongi lunged for the maknae but was held back by Hoseok wrapping his arms around Yoongi's shoulders. “I could kill you right here, kid!” 

“Okay, we're just gonna,” Hoseok struggled to pull Yoongi to the front door, nodding his head for the rest to follow, “take a walk.”

Namjoon patted Jungkook's shoulder with a smile, “He's going to murder you when we get back.”

Jungkook buried his face into the crook of your neck to hide his smile while you giggled at Yoongi’s outburst, knowing full well that he couldn’t stay mad at you. He felt your soft kisses against his temple to coax him into looking back at your face to kiss him properly, your fingers pulling at his black locks. Your other hand skimmed up his shoulder to join the already tangled fingers in his hair, tugging to expose the column of his throat and he moaned as your lips travelled to his jaw line then lower. 

Teeth sinking into his soft skin ever so gently, you gasped when his hips rocked into yours to start a wonderfully quick pace before you guys had been interrupted. You could hear the small grunts of effort whispered against the shell of your ear and you dropped back against the counter to admire the way his jaw clenched and the veins pop out against his neck. 

With your head lolling from side to side, Jungkook sped up his thrusts and nearly smirked at the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head but your fourth orgasm of the night triggered his own, hips colliding with yours once more before filling you to the brim with his cum. 

“Holy shit,” You breathed and reached up to run your fingers through your hair, “you’re so much work, Kookie.”

“Hey,” Jungkook whined and tried his best to keep from collapsing onto you, “I’m the one that did all the extra work this time.”

“Oh? And earlier when you made me ride you in your gaming chair wasn’t extra work?” You pinched his cheek, biting your bottom lip as he pulled out, your juices leaking along the insides of your thighs. Your legs felt like jelly and you were almost embarrassed to admit you couldn’t even stand because the last thing you needed was to stroke his already too big ego.

“Come on, noona,” He chuckled and tucked his arms underneath your limp body to carry you to the bathroom where he gently sat you in the tub and ran a warm bath for the both of you. He slid into the ceramic tub behind you, pulling your back flush against his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder. He felt you hum in content and brought his hands up to twine his fingers with yours, placing a small kiss to the back of your head. “I love you, noona, you know that right?”

“Of course,” You frowned and turned your head to look at him, searching his features for any sign of doubt. “I love you too.”

“Good because Yoongi hyung is gonna kill me when he gets back and I needed to hear that.”

[benbarnesescape]

Part 1: Co-Ed Problems

AU Frat!Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: Language

A/N: I wrote this a while ago and then found it again when I was trying to debate which Billy story to update so I’m sorry but this won’t be a story I start and kill...just add it to the rotation.

Let me know if you want to be tagged! Also banner created by me so please don’t use for your own. 

He’d grown up.

No longer a snot nosed, loud, lanky obnoxious kid that had grown up with you in the Bronx. The kid that was always pulling at your perfectly braided pigtails that your mom had tightly woven together since you were five, or found pleasure in convincing you to go bug hunting down by the marina on hot summer days.

Nope that Billy was gone.

Sitting a few tables in front of you in the library, body hunched over his laptop as he typed furiously, flipping through pages of the thick textbook beside him was a new version of Billy.

A Billy you hadn't seen since he got adopted at the start of middle school on a hot August day, not saying goodbye but delivering the news through your mother. Never to be seen or heard again - at least to you.

Which had been fine because you hadn’t mourned his leaving too much.

Except now he was sitting in front of you in the Colombian library, a frat sweatshirt, Delta Sigma Phi and sweats His hands were running through that thick mane of his hair that he was always trying to tame, none the wiser to your presence.

Billy ‘the beaut’ Russo.

You try to focus on your Theater in the Modern World book, you really do. But you can’t not keep flickering your eyes up to him, to the scrunched way his forehead knits together as his dark eyes read passage over passage. The way he bites his lips in concentration, the bulge of his bicep that peeks from his rolled up sleeves.

Fuck.

Billy had not only lived out his prophecy but did so ten-fold. A beaut indeed.

You dedicate ten more minutes before you throw in the towel. There was no way you were going to be able to finish a paper fully if you stayed here - you had better chances getting it completed in your room with your headphones blaring.

If that was what it would take, that was what it would take.

You pile your laptop in your bag, your books. Grab the half eaten coffee cake you had started in on and the empty large Americano you had downed thanks to Billy’s handsome form.

Its just when you’re standing that your phone buzzes in the your hand and you’re going to ignore it but the large bold letters that spell out Dinah causes you to pause, to re-shift the items in your hands.

You had texted her the minute you realized the hot co-ed you had been checking out was Billy. She had grown up with you, been your best friend since the second grade when she had punched Billy in the nose for making you cry and you knew wouldn’t believe you.

D: No way its B. Russo. I heard he got sent off to military academy

Y: Well then it served him good because I swear he was sitting across from me wearing a Delt Sig sweatshirt

D: Was? Where’d he go!?

Y: He’s still there

D: ……. Don’t leave

Y: He’s distracting! He’s fucking handsome now. All that those awkward features long gone

D: Then go say hi!

You pause mid stride. You were halfway to where he was sitting, still oblivious to your presence.

You could.

It wouldn’t hurt.

It just felt awkward.

You tell Dinah as much as you move again.

Y: That feels…...awkward

D: Does it? C’mon go say hi. For me.

Y: you hated Billy

D: Yea but there’s an excuse to go say hi

Y: With you not around so he knows I’ve been checking him out for 20 minutes? No thank you

D: C’mon Y/N don’t be a little b -

You don’t finish reading the rest. In perfect fashion you’re body has naturally steered of course, running flush into the chair in front of his table, causing you to double over. Your empty coffee cup rolls onto the glossy wood, your coffee cake flinging onto the ground your backpack nearly toppling you over more than you already were.

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

Billy always did have beautiful eyes. Hickory brown, bold and calculating they could break you down to your core before building you back up again. It used to infuriate you when it worked in your disadvantage - like in 5th grade when you were asked if you liked him and you tried with all your heart to lie.

You knew he knew when you had fumbled through the lie back then, though he didn’t reveal it. Instead he had smiled at you knowingly, rolling his eyes and running away.

He always seemed to know things when it came to you.

Just like now, when something behind dark irises clicked, familiarity and he frowns as he mutters out,

“Y/N? Y/N Arden?”

You groan as you look up from your place on the table, torso still hunkered over the oak chair, backpack digging into your neck.

“Is it that obvious?”

He looks at you for a few seconds before he laughs, pushing out of his chair as he lets out,

“I mean, do you honestly want my opinion?”

You groan more as you shake your head no, bracing your arms to help you stand up,

“Save me the embarrassment. I’m sure half of Columbia knows by now.”

You’re referencing the few students who have pulled out their phones, posting it on whatever social media site they favored. Lucky you.

Hopefully your ass in the sky and your backpack covering your face can save you the shame.

“Nah it’ll be old news soon. This is New York - nothing ever sticks.” Billy is on his knees picking up your coffee cake, the old recyclable cup that you had been sipping on.

“Oh man that was going to be ¼ of my dinner.” You eye the coffee cake sadly as Billy wraps it in the thin plastic and he laughs as he throws it in the cup, shakes his head.

“First or second dinner?”

You snort as you grab your phone, ignore the splurge of texts that have gone through from Dinah.

“Second - duh. It's the perfect midnight, dessert snack…..”

You shoot your eyes up to him as he laughs, shaking his head,

“You really are Y/N. You had the healthiest appetite I have ever seen on a human.”

“Food is amazing.” you narrow your eyes at him. You don’t mean to be rude but you were also insecure about your healthy eating habits.  You were a woman - society had trained you to hate your body despite how well you took care of it and though you exercised and kept active you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

He raises his hands  in peace,

“Hey, hey I come in peace. It wasn’t meant to be rude - I have always been genuinely impressed by your appetite.”

You blink slowly, before shaking your head.

“You are definitely Billy Russo. Only idiot that would know how to compliment a girl with an insult.”

“Ouch. And there is the punch.” he pretends to cover up his heart in pain and you roll your eyes though you can’t help the smile that follows,

“Anyways...I gotta go. Speaking of dinner it's close to it and I’m starved.

Nice to see you again.”

You don’t wait for him to answer, swiftly moving past him. You had embarrassed yourself enough for one day and the last thing you needed was to continue to do so in front of the neighborhood kid that you used to pick on you.

You scamper down the stairs, reading over Dinah’s texts when you hear a faint voice behind,

“Y/N! Wait up.”

You stop halfway through the library lobby, a lot louder and less conspicuous in the bright, fluorescent light as Billy’s lithe frame navigates his way through the crowd.

“Did I drop something back there?”

Billy laughs, huffing a bit and shaking his head,

“No just - you don’t want to catch up? I haven’t seen you in like...what nine years and you aren’t curious at all to where I moved to?”

You cross your arms,

“Billy - my life has never been about how I was going to ever recover from Billy Russo moving from my block. Oh wait, I’ll re-frame that,” you clear your throat, throwing a hand on your forehead as you emulate your best southern accent, “Oh my gahd my heart has finally recovered from the devaSTATION of Billy Russo departing from my life. HowEVER did I live without him.”

Billy smiles at you, all teeth that sparkle in the light and his eyes glowing as he claps his hands,

“You were always a really good actress.”

“Whatever do you mean?” you dont drop the accent as he shakes his head knowingly,

“I didn’t mean it like that for once. I meant - you’re one of the few people back from the old days that I’ve missed and I’ve always wondered where you got off too and…..it just feels like….

Let me treat ya to dinner? I know this great place and they serve the best dim sum.”

You tilt your head, look down at the time on your phone. Technically it was dinner  time and technically a bag of ramen and maybe a cracked egg (unless Dinah had gotten into them) was on your menu. Moving off campus your third year had been liberating but also re-humbling.

“Fine Russo. But I expect beer with this amazing dim sum.” you say pointedly and he laughs and nods,

“Deal.”

Tag List

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[garbagequeer]

hey hello im writing a piece for laptop ensemble that involves sampling and i need the most repressed/tender/yearning quotes you got. just as gay and heart wrenching as you can. but also no pressure I know youre a stranger on the web I just feel like you post that kind of stuff a lot thank you bye

hope this isnt like too late school keeps me busy :( (also can you put a read more on asks? guess i’ll find out). i ended up choosing many quotes from the same texts cause im indecisive as shit but i’ll bold my favorites from those in case that makes it easier for you!

anyways first of all you can never go wrong w richard siken as obvious as that is. these are both from you are jeff

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

Let’s say you’ve swallowed a bad thing and now it’s got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure. You see what I mean but you’re happy anyway, and that’s okay, it’s a love story 

this one’s from planet of love (the format got fucked bc tumblr is not actually a finctional website but :/ )

I have a megaphone and you play along,                                                                 because you want to die for love,                                                            you always have.     Imagine this:You’re pulling the car over. Somebody’s waiting.                      You’re going to die                                            in your best friend’s arms.             And you play along because it’s funny, because it’s written down,you’ve memorized it,

from litany in which certain things are crossed out 

I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re            really there.Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?                                                       Let me do it right for once,

sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell                                    and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.            Especially that, but I should have known.You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together            to make a creature that will do what I sayor love me back.

We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too,            smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I                                                                                just couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you,                             is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s                                                                                                 terrifying. No one                                                                        will ever want to sleep with you.

from snow and dirty rain

I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.

that scene from when harry met sally where sally says:

One day I was taking Alice’s little girl fro the afternoon. I’d promised to take her to the circus, and we were in a cab playing “I spy” - you know, “I spy a lamppost”, “I spy a mailbox” - and she looked out the window and there was this man and this woman with two little kids, and the man had one of the kids on his shoulders, and Alice’s little girl said “I spy a family”, and I satrted crying, you know? I just started crying, and I went home

(like anyone else sometimes cries when u see a family doing something nice? is it because i want to participate in a sense of family of my own but have been excluded as a gay person from it’s portrayals and it makes me go :^( cause i dont feel there’s room for me there but i want there to be and i just have to long for this nuclear family heteronormative way of life that i’ve been made to believe is idylic? is it because my parents got divorced and my dad’s an ass and my mom is just a very angry lady and i want to re-do my own childhood? who knows. should we ban movies? yes we should!)

from maurice (ultimate source of tender)

“There was something better in life than this rubbish, if only he could get to it, love, nobility, big spaces where passion clasped peace, spaces no science could reach, but they existed for ever, full of woods some of them, and arched with majestic sky and a friend”

‘Did you ever dream you had a friend, Alec? Nothing else but just “my friend”, he trying to help you and you him. A friend’ he repeated, sentimental suddenly. ‘Someone to last your whole life and you his. I suppose such a thing can’t really happen outside sleep’

we are all so lucky i don’t actually own maurice in english this would just turn into me quoting the whole book

ee cummings voices to voices, lip to lip

the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid.

from virgina woolf’s letters to vita

7 september 1925

january 21 1926 vita writes

I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this—But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …

and on january 26 virginia writes back

Your letter from Trieste came this morning—But why do you think I don’t feel, or that I make phrases? ‘Lovely phrases’ you say which rob things of reality. Just the opposite. Always, always, always I try to say what I feel. Will you then believe that after you went last Tuesday—exactly a week ago—out I went into the slums of Bloomsbury, to find a barrel organ. But it did not make me cheerful … And ever since, nothing important has happened—Somehow its dull and damp. I have been dull; I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. And if you don’t believe it, you’re a longeared owl and ass. Lovely phrases? … 

from virginia’s diary, about vita on december 21 1925

I like her and being with her and the splendour–she shines in the grocer’s shop in Sevenoaks with a candle lit radiance, stalking on legs like beech trees, pink glowing, grape clustered, pearl hung.

from virginia woolf’s to the light house

What device for becoming, like waters poured into one jar, inextricably the same, one with the object one adored? Could the body achieve, or the mind, subtly mingling in the intricate passages of the brain? or the heart? Could loving, as people called it, make her and Mrs Ramsay one? for it was not knowledge but unity that she desired, not inscriptions on tablets, nothing that could be written in any language known to men, but intimacy itself, which is knowledge, she had thought, leaning her head on Mrs Ramsay’s knee. Nothing happened. Nothing! Nothing! as she leant her head against Mrs Ramsay’s knee. And yet, she knew knowledge and wisdom were stored up in Mrs Ramsay’s heart.

Love had a thousand shapes. There might be lovers whose gift it was to choose out the elements of things and place them together and so, giving them a wholeness not theirs in life, make of some scene, or meeting of people (all now gone and separate), one of those globed compacted things over which thought lingers, and love plays.

there forced themselves upon her other things, her own inadequacy, her insignificance, keeping house for her father off the Brompton Road, and had much ado to control her impulse to fling herself (thank Heaven she had always resisted so far) at Mrs Ramsay’s knee and say to her—but what could one say to her? “I’m in love with you?” No, that was not true. “I’m in love with this all,” waving her hand at the hedge, at the house, at the children. It was absurd, it was impossible 

(fun fact: the spanish translation adds something that i’d translate as “one could not say what one meant / what one wanted to say”, which i really like and i was disapointed to find out isnt on the english edition)

It was love, she thought, pretending to move her canvas, distilled and filtered; love that never attempted to clutch its object; but, like the love which mathematicians bear their symbols, or poets their phrases, was meant to be spread over the world and become part of the human gain. So it was indeed. The world by all means should have shared it  

from the great gatsby

I didn’t want to go to the city. I wasn’t worth a decent stroke of work but it was more than that—I didn’t want to leave Gatsby. I missed that train, and then another, before I could get myself away (…) Just before I reached the hedge I remembered something and turned around. ‘They’re a rotten crowd,’ I shouted across the lawn. ‘You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.’ I’ve always been glad I said that. It was the only compliment I ever gave him

from kafka’s diaries

may 27 1911: Today is your birthday, but I am not even sending you the usual book, for it would be only pretence; at bottom I am after all not in position to give you a book. I am writing only because it is so necessary for me today to be near you for a moment

parts from a from a letter he wrote to oskar pollak on february 4 1902

When we talk together the words are hard; we tread over them as if they were rough pavement. The most delicate things acquire awkward feet and we can’t help it. We’re almost in each other’s way; I bump into you and you - I don’t dare and you. When we come to things that are not exactly cobblestones or the Kunstwart, we suddenly see that we are in masquerade, acting with angular faces (especially me, I admit), and then we become sad and bored. Does anyone make you as bored as I do?

then I fall silent and you fall silent and you become bored, and I become bored and it’s all like a stupid hangover and there’s no use lifting a hand. But neither wants to say this to the other, out of shame or fear or - You see, we are afraid of each other, or I am.

Of course I understand it. It’s boring to stand for years in front of an ugly wall and it just won’t crumble away. Of course, but the wall is afraid for itself, fro the garden (if there is one), and you get out of sorts, yawn, have headaches, don’t know where to turn

You often talk with her, not only for the sake of talking. You walk around with her somewhere here or there, or in Roztok, and i sit at my desk at home. You talk with her, and in the middle of a sentence somebody jumps up and makes a bow. That is me with my untrimmed words and angular faces. That lasts only a moment, and then you go on talking. I sit at my desk at home and yawn. I’ve been trhough it already. Wouldn’t that separate us? Is that so strange? Are we enemies? I am very fond of you

from his leters to milena

Last night I dreamed about you. What happened in detail I can hardly remember, all I know is that we kept merging into one another. I was you, you were me. Finally you somehow caught fire.

jane wong. from clearing

We want to believe everything has meaning.Plums blossom over a power grid

and I am in love again. The shame of it.

from leslie harrison’s [sirens]

I’m not Penelope married to faith married to waitingbound in fine soft strands of silk dyed and stretchedin my world longing has teeth and fins has a tastefor blood longing is a room built entirely of knives

Lorde’s melodrama tour interlude

Don’t you wish you could go inside a heart, see the strings and atrium’s, everything beating and bleeding. It’s kind of funny, I spend almost every minute thinking about love. Being guided, and divided by love. But I’ve never seen it. It’s just a rumour, a comedown, an afterglow. I wanna see it, in colour. In the summer, I can almost picture it

from Andrea Long Chu’s on liking women

One day, you tell yourself, it will give you what you want. Then, one day, it doesn’t. Now it dawns on you that your object will probably never give you what you want. But this is not what’s disappointing, not really. What’s disappointing is what happens next: nothing. You keep your object. You continue to follow it around, stash it in a drawer, water it, tweet at it. It still doesn’t give you what you want—but you knew that. You have had another realization: not getting what you want has very little to do with wanting it. Knowing better usually doesn’t make it better. You don’t want something because wanting it will lead to getting it. You want it because you want it

ada limón, In a Mexican Restaurant I Recall How Much You Upset Me

But love is impossible and it goes ondespite the impossible. You’re the muscleI cut from the bone and still the boneremembers, still it wants (so much, it wants)the flesh back, the real thing,if only to rail against it, if onlyto argue and fight, if only to missa solve-able absence.

i dont think i need to get into mitski songs because you probably already know but basically pink in the night/come into the water/once more to see you/in happy when she says if you’re going take the train so i can hear it rumble one last rumble/in i want you from the first verse to the first time she goes “i just need a quiet place where i can scream how i love you” (YES the card thing is very important)/the first verse of i will (w emphasis on everything you feel is good i f you wold only let you)/abbey/strawberry blond

sufjan steven’s futile devices obviously predatory wasp of the palisades you know the drill 

was going to find some twin fantasy lyrics but i started thinking about famous prophets (minds) and like. emotionally left my body so. i wont be thinking about it or any other songs anymore it makes me too crazy

from frances ha

It’s that thing when you’re with someone and you love them and they know it and they love you and you know it but it’s a party and you’re both talking to other people and you’re laughing and shining and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes. But not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual, but because that is your person in this life and it’s funny and sad but only because this life will end and it’s this secret world that exists right there. In public. Unnoticed. That no one else knows about. It’s sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us but we don’t have the ability to perceive them. That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

from ellen lee’s notes on twin fantasy that i revisit constantly

there’s no going back to deliver these words to the ones they were really meant for. That’s how heartbreak feels, I guess. It feels like your heart in between the teeth of someone who’s looking away. When you’ve lost your loved object, what happens to all the things you have to say to them? When they’re turned away, what happens to all the things that you couldn’t, but desperately need(ed) to, say to their face? He dissociates himself from his own romance until it becomes a fantasy. You have your bleeding heart, you have a finite set of memories — when nothing new enters and you’re unwilling to let go, then you have a fantasy. The loved object enters into you and transforms.

the journey home by dermot bolger(havent read this at all dont really plan to/dont know a thing about it either i just came across this shit like 2 years ago and i still think about it)

I wanted to hurt him; I wanted just to touch him. What I wanted I’m not really sure. If he had stopped and opened his arms I would have walked towards him; I would have sat on the kerb all night with him

adam b, sweet i have a (really gay) heart

i feel like my body is the extension of a lake. i feel really badabout not telling you the truth, sometimes. i feelreally small next to you. tall boys remind me of bean stalks.i wish i had your legs. i wish i could know your handsbefore i even touch them

aaaand i think that’s all i could think of and track down, hope this is actually helpful and not too long (i am indecisive no kidding). also ksjdfg it’s nice that you thought to ask me this and i did have fun going over all these quotes so thank you 💖💖💖

[nitewrighter]

Yellow As the Sun

A Short ficlet Based on a Fic Title Prompt

Pre-Fall of Overwatch Era. Genji has recently had his prosthetics updated and says some... interesting things while on painkilers.

CW for drug mention

---

“Oh for--” Mercy frowned, scrolling through the tablet as she walked down the hall of Zurich’s medical ward, “Who in anesthesiology approved this compound for post-surgery?” 

“Well you insisted that the transition to the new prosthetics happen with as little damage to the patient’s remaining organic organs as possible,” said one of the Blackwatch Cyberneticists walking alongside her, “This compound is the safest for that.”

“Well, yes, but Mr. Shimada’s mental state is already delicate enough without these... side effects,” said Mercy.

“He’ll be fiiiine, dude was probably doing mountains of coke and god knows what else back with the Shimada clan,” said another Blackwatch cyberneticist. Mercy shot that cyberneticist a glare and the first cyberneticist made a cutting motion next to her neck and shook her head.

Mercy just huffed. “The new prosthetics are responding to basic reflexes?” she said, looking at the first Cyberneticist.

“Yep. They’ll probably need some further calibration as he recovers more from the surgery, but we have nervous connection.”

The three of them paused in front of the door. 

“We’ll leave you to it, Doctor Ziegler,” said the second cyberneticist. Mercy nodded as they headed down the hall and she opened the door.

She had to admit, she liked the new prosthetics--better than the old ones anyway. Taupe sarcofibers stretched across his torso and over the frames of his new prosthetic legs. More muscle-like movement, better shock absorption for how much he jumped around. It still was markedly different from organic flesh, certainly, but less jarring than the mass of black, white, and red metal and fibers and red and black wires which wracked his previous form. Lighter, too. They’d need him to go through the tedious process of going through different armors to protect the new prosthetics with the least amount of sacrifice to his movement, but the new prosthetics would be significantly lighter. 

Genji was awake already. Sitting up in bed, even. She knew the biotic feed running into his organic arm would keep the new organ grafts from damaging themselves. She had noted in previous observations that he seemed to metabolize and burn through sedatives far faster than most humans. Her gut told her that it was something to do with the dragon, but she feared recording such things in Genji’s medical records might make him more of a lab subject than he already was. 

 She saw Genji was staring at his hands and her stomach knotted. She knew that the transition between prosthetics was easy to make him feel even more disconnected from his body. She stepped forward, ready to say something comforting, but noticed something odd about the way he was moving his hands. His pupils were completely dilated and he was slowly trailing his hands up and down in front of himself, his expression not disgusted, but almost awed.

“Genji?” she spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.

“My hands have ghosts,” he said, waving his hands up and down.

Aaaand I’m firing that anesthesiologist, thought Mercy.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, smiling a little.

Genji blinked several times and looked up from his hands to her. His cybernetic jaw dropped. “Doctor Ziegler?” he said, eyes wide.

“Yes, Genji, it’s me, you may experience some disorientation with your current painkill--”

“You’re glowing,” Genji leaned dangerously far over the side of the bed towards her.

Mercy took a few steps forward and gently took him by his shoulders. “Your vision is also probably affected--strobing, doubles, more vivid colors, nothing too extreme-- but I assure you, it’s temporary,” she said, re-centering him on the bed so he didn’t fall out.

“You’re so strong,” Genji said in awe, his hand trailed up toward her hair, “And yellow...” he reached a hand up toward it.

Mercy managed to put her hand over his and bring it down before he could touch at her hair. “You’re also experiencing some loss of inhibitions,” she said, pulling away slightly.

“Mm,” Genji nodded. 

“So I’m just here to ask you if you’re in any pain and see how the prosthetics are treating you,” said Mercy, trying to get him to focus.

“Hmm,” Genji nodded.

“So are you in pain?” said Mercy.

“No,” said Genji.

“Good,” said Mercy, “And the prosthetics?”

Genji looked at his hands, then started slowly waving them up and down once more. He was quiet for a few beats before holding up his prosthetic hand and saying, “This one’s not real.”

“But does it work?” asked Mercy.

Genji curled and uncurled the fingers of his prosthetic hand, then suddenly loosely flailed it back and forth. “It doesn’t jiggle like the old one!” he said, eyes wide while still flailing his hand.

“The old one jiggled?” said Mercy.

Genji stopped flailing his hand and pointed to the thumb joint on his prosthetic hand. “Here,” he said, “But not anymore.” He paused, “Was it your idea?”

“Well, I had been hoping to update your prosthetics for a while,” said Mercy.

“You’re so smart,” Genji flopped back against his pillows, “...and you... you look like that? All the time?”

“Well, as I’ve said, you may be experiencing some blooming and strobing with your vision right n--”

“You’re like the sun,” Genji went on, “...But... if you could actually look at the sun. And the sun was beautiful. And the sun has eyes. Kuso, your eyes are huge.” 

Mercy snorted. While she was still miffed that the anesthesiologist would make Genji so disoriented, she had to admit, it was a bit of a relief to see him not obsessively brooding over the Shimada clan for once. The stream of compliments was, admittedly, disarming, but intel had said Genji had been more than a bit of a charmer back before losing his body... maybe his confusion was bringing that through. It had occurred to her that she had almost never seen him smiling until now.

“Well I think you should be getting some rest, Genji,” she said with a slight smile.

“You’re leaving?” there was a sadness in Genji’s voice.

“Well I have other patients to get t--” Mercy opened the door to find McCree standing outside.

“...Doc,” said McCree.

“McCree,” said Mercy, furrowing her brows, “Reyes sent you?”

“Well, just to check on Genji...” McCree stepped through the doorway.

“And I’m guessing I wasn’t supposed to still be in here,” said Mercy, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” said McCree glancing down.

“Well as you can see, Genji’s doing fine,” said Mercy, flatly.

“Look, Reyes was just concerned because you pushed through really fast with this surgery without much oversight from him--” He paused and looked at Genji’s legs, “You got rid of the calf blades?”

“If Reyes had his way, we would have been waiting until Genji went through catastrophic prosthetic failure before we replaced them,” said Mercy, folding her arms, “And yes we got rid of the calf blades. They were awful.” 

“Well I mean, if it ain’t broke...” McCree started but made the wise choice of not finishing that sentence with Mercy glaring at him.

“Doctor Ziegler, McCree is here,” said Genji, who was slowly waving his hands around again.

“I can see that, Genji,” said Mercy.

“How you holdin’ up?” said McCree, smiling over at Genji.

Genji gave a thumbs up with his prosthetic hand and then pointed to it, “No jiggling,” he said proudly.

McCree noted the odd amount of relaxation in Genji’s expression and the ease with which he was slumped against the pillows.

“They got you on the good stuff, partner?” smirked McCree, arching an eyebrow at Genji’s I.V.

“Good stuff?” Genji repeated dreamily, looking at his hand again and turning it over.

“Yeah they got you on the good stuff,” said McCree.

Genji seemed to perk up at remembering something, “McCree--” he said in a loud whisper and motioned for McCree to come closer.

“Mm?” McCree leaned in a little

Genji motioned with his head at Angela. “Look,” he said quietly.

McCree glanced over at Mercy. “What?” he looked back at Genji, “The doc?”

Genji nodded.

“...what about her?” said McCree.

“She looks like that,” Genji gripped McCree’s shoulders and his voice dropped to a loud hoarse whisper, “All the time.” 

“Yeeeup, that’s sort of how people work, Genji,” said McCree, gently pulling Genji’s hands off of his shoulders.

“It’s amazing...” Genji said quietly.

“Yeah I’m just going to let you sleep this off,” said McCree, grinning as he pulled away.

“Mm-hm,” Genji nodded and glanced out the window, staring for a few seconds before saying, “The mountains are breathing.”

“They sure are,” said McCree, stepping towards the door, “Oh I’m going to give him so much shit for this later,” he whispered to Mercy.

“Good bye, McCree,” said Mercy flatly. 

McCree tipped his hat and headed out the door.

Mercy closed it behind him. 

“I need to get going too,” she said, looking back at Genji, “Try to get some sleep.”

“Doctor Ziegler?” Genji spoke up and she paused in the doorway.

“Thank you,” said Genji. He gave his prosthetic hand a demonstrative flail. “No jiggle.”

Mercy smiled. “Call me if you need anything,” she said.

Genji nodded and looked out the window again.

[starfast]

Cross the Kingdom- Chapter 5

“The Clocktower”

Word Count: 4604

Read on Wattpad: Link

More about this project: Intro Post | Other Info

 For a moment Kit thought he was still lying out in the streets. He could feel the cold, hard ground beneath him and getting hit in the head by the guard who was supposed to protect him was the last thing that he could clearly remember. When he looked around, he could see brick walls surrounding him, and a ceiling overhead. He noticed several gears and cogs that moved slowly, which initially lead him to believe that he might have been brought to some sort of factory. There was some additional credibility to the notion when he realized that the last thing he remembered was being in the Industrial District. But there were large round windows on each wall, which would have been out of place in a factory. The windows were only semi-transparent, and didn’t let much light in, which made them odder still. Nothing looked even a little bit familiar to him. Kit began to panic when he realized he couldn’t even guarantee that he was still in Galtia. He spotted his bag sitting in the corner of the room, the only thing that he did recognize. 

 Then he spotted a girl probably close to his age, sitting next to his bag. Black hair framed her pale white face as she read through the only book that Kit had thought to bring with him. Her striking blue eyes examined the page, completely unaware that Kit was watching her. Kit tried to call out, but his throat felt dry and he found himself struggling to make a sound. He cleared his throat and said, “What are you doing with my stuff?” His voice came out in a weak and hoarse tone, and was far less authoritative than he would have liked. Nonetheless, the girl put the book down and looked up at him. 

 “Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t realize you were awake.” She nodded towards the book and added, “It’s interesting stuff though. I didn’t know there were any copies left.” 

 “This is the only one as far as I know,” Kit said, “I’m going to have to ask for it back.” He realized that he probably should have kept his mouth shut. If the girl wanted to steal from him, it would be easy to sell the book off at a high price. Luckily, she just put it back into his bag, which came as both a surprise and a relief to Kit.

 The book had been given to him by his father, just shortly after Kit had told him about his powers. The book was aptly titled ‘The Book of Powers’ and contained information about every documented ability. Most copies had been destroyed when the Patrol’s reign had been at its peak, but somehow the one copy survived and made its way into his father’s hands. Kit had read the pages about telekinesis several times, but he also liked to learn more about the wide variety of powers that could be found in Toltova. 

 Kit struggled to sit up. His head pounded and the room seemed to spin around him. He rubbed at his forehead trying to ease the pain, though it didn’t seem to work. His head still felt like someone had been pounding at it with a sledgehammer. 

 The girl watched him, before calmly asking, “You ok?” 

 “I’ll survive,” he replied, “But I have several questions.” 

  The girl shrugged, and said, “Ask away then, Your Highness.” 

 “Ok, first off, where am I?” He looked around the room, which was much smaller than he initially thought, still trying to look for something that looked vaguely familiar. 

 “You’re in the Galtia Clocktower,” the girl said. 

 Kit frowned, looking around the room. It made sense when he studied the room a little closer. It was not a very big room, for one thing. Certainly too small to be a factory as he’d initially thought. He’d never actually been inside the clocktower before, but he had a pretty good view of it from the window of his room back at the castle. It wasn’t built to be a spacious structure, and it showed from the inside of the tower. While the girl’s response certainly made sense to him, it raised even more questions. 

 “It was both the safest and closest place I could think to bring you,” the girl added, which answered at least one of his other questions. “I know some people in Galtia that I should have brought you too, but they live on the other side of town. I’m not sure I could have carried you that far.” 

 “But you carried me up to the top of the clocktower?” Kit asked, thinking aloud. 

 “I never said it was easy,” The girl said, “It was kind of more like I dragged you to the top of the clocktower. You weren’t fully unconscious, which made it slightly easier. But only slightly. You were still pretty out of it.” 

 “I see,” Kit said, satisfied with her response for the most part. He could still remember most of what had happened before he had come to his senses. The only part that left him puzzled was right before he had lost consciousness, he remembered the guard falling to the ground after his spear was yanked out of his hands by...who? Or what?. There hadn’t been anyone else around. It had just been Kit, and the guard. He dismissed it as his imagination. He had been barely conscious at that point. Perhaps someone else had been around and he just somehow didn’t notice. 

 “There’s something else I need to know, and you will--” He stopped and tried again, “You will be honest with me.” Kit wasn’t necessarily expecting an honest answer to his next question, but he needed to ask anyways. It was worth a shot at the very least. 

 “Fine,” The girl said in an unexpectedly calm tone. 

 “Are you working for my uncle?” Before she could answer he quickly added, “By the way, if you lie to me and I find out about it, I swear I will report you to my father and I’ll make sure that--” 

 “I’m not working for your uncle,” The girl said quickly, “On the contrary, I saved your life. I brought you here so that you’d be safe. Do you think that’s what your uncle would have wanted? He wants you dead. If I was working for him I would have had plenty of time to do the deed. But here you are, still alive. With all your stuff, I might add. Quite frankly, I’m a bit offended you had to ask.” 

 Kit pursed his lips. She did have a point, but he was still skeptical. “But you knew that my uncle wants me dead, and that’s suspicious to say the least.”

 “I have my sources,” The girl said, flashing him a mysterious smile. 

 “Well, by all means do share them,” Kit demanded,“Because things aren’t looking good for you right now. So while we’re at it, who are you and what do you want with me?” 

 The girl stared back at him, evidently startled by his outburst. “My name is Audrey Winlar,” she said defensively. “I’m just trying to help you.” 

 “That doesn’t explain how you know everything,” Kit pointed out. 

 “Ok, ok,” Audrey said, “I live in this town in the mountains. It’s kind of been abandoned for a long time, but my friends and I moved in. There’s not many of us, so we kind of have to take on different roles to make sure that things are running smoothly. Part of what I do involves leaving the town every now and then to see what’s going on in the outside world.” 

 “So you’re a spy, basically,” Kit said. 

 “I guess you could call it that,” Audrey admitted, “But the other part of my job involves helping people like you out of dangerous situations and bringing them back to our town, where they’ll be safe.”

 Kit narrowed his eyes. “So when you say people like me…?” 

 Audrey threw her hands up in frustration, “Do I really have to spell it out for you? People with powers. Abilities, whatever you want to call it.” 

 Kit was taken aback by her forwardness. She clearly knew who she was speaking to, yet she didn’t seem to care. Back at the castle, most people liked to suck up to him. They liked to be extra polite, and would compliment him on every little thing. It was as if they thought that he was too fragile to handle even the slightest insult. Alexander was the only one who dared to even speak out against him, though the way Audrey had spoken was different. It wasn’t a threat, it wasn’t even a direct insult. It had been a bit condescending, if anything.

 “You... know about that?” He asked. 

 “Yeah,” Audrey said, “I’m a spy, right? We’d been hearing that there were some things going on in the castle, so my village sent me out to figure out what I could. I was there in gardens, Kit.” 

 Kit narrowed his eyes. He struggled to find the right words for a long time. “I…what? How did you…?”

 Luckily, for all his stammering, Audrey was able to decipher what he was trying to say. “My powers make it really easy for me to get by unseen. Really, really easy, in fact.” Before Kit could question her any further, Audrey disappeared right before his eyes. She was there one moment, and in the blink of an eye she had vanished. 

 “Audrey, wait!” He called out, “What the-- where are you?” 

 “I’m still here,” Audrey replied with a giggle. The floorboards creaked as she walked across the small room. Kit could hear her footsteps drawing nearer and nearer. Finally, she stopped. Kit could feel her presence beside him but there was nothing to indicate that she was actually there. She poked him in the shoulder. “Do you understand now?” 

 “You’re invisible,” Kit gasped. 

 “Good observation,” Audrey said, re-appearing before him.  

 “Wow,” Kit marveled, “That’s quite incredible, actually.” 

 “Why thank you,” Audrey said, beaming with pride.

 Kit leaned forward, resting his arm on top of his knees. “So what else do you know?” 

 “Certainly not as much as I would like,” Audrey admitted, “I know that your uncle wants you out of the way. I know about your mother’s powers--”

 “You can’t tell anyone about that!” Kit interrupted. 

 “I won’t,” Audrey said, “I swear. I was also able to gather that your father and his brother… don’t exactly get along.” 

 “That’s quite the understatement,” Kit said, “They can’t stand to be in the same room most of the time.” 

 Audrey pursed her lips. “Interesting,” She remarked. 

 “How’s that interesting?” Kit asked, “Practically everyone in Toltova knows about that.” 

 “Yeah,” Audrey said, “I guess I just didn’t think it was that bad. He’s probably going to be looking for you, isn’t he?” 

 Kit furrowed his brows. He hadn’t quite thought of that. It did make sense though, that Alexander might be coming after him. He had already tried to get him once. Attempting a second time certainly wouldn’t be out of character. 

 “Maybe tomorrow we can get you out of here,” Audrey suggested before Kit could speak, “We could stay with my friends for a bit and when Frank passes through maybe I could take you to New Vellarton.” 

 “I’m sorry,” Kit said, “You want to take me where?” 

 “Back to my town,” Audrey explained, “The one that I was telling you about.”

 “No!” Kit objected, “My parents wanted me to go to Morbane. It’ll be safer for me there. Besides, I can’t just go running off with random strangers!” He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I’m sorry Audrey. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t.” 

 “I think you should consider it,” Audrey said, “I don’t think Morbane is necessarily the safest place to be.” 

 “You don’t know that,” Kit countered, “Morbane is one of the safest places to be along the coast. I’ll be fine.” 

 “No, Kit, please listen to me,” Audrey snapped, “Morbane is littered with members of the Patrol. They like to congregate there for whatever reason. They don’t usually take people from around there, but when they do it’s easy for them just to blame the pirates.” 

 “The Patrol?” Kit repeated, “So they are back. My father’s been trying to crack down on those rumours.” 

 “So I’ve heard,” Audrey said, “Hasn’t been successful, has he?”

 “I’m afraid not,” Kit sighed, “He’s been trying to find a pattern, so that he can figure out where they’ll strike next because it’s seemingly random. It’s impossible to tell. A lot of people are just telling him to give it up.” An idea struck him. “Audrey, if I could prove that they’re real--”

 “No,” Audrey said, immediately shutting him down before he could fully explain his plan. “Don’t go looking for them, Kit. They’re horrible people, and if they find out you have powers-- If that news spreads, they’re not going to give you any special privileges just because you’re the Prince.” 

 “That’s not what I was going to suggest,” Kit huffed, “And I don’t expect people to give me special privileges just because I’m the Prince.”  

 “Yes you do,” Audrey asked smirking, “You can barely go two minutes without reminding people that you’re the crown prince or that your father will be hearing about this.” 

 “I’m just desperate right now,” Kit protested. He knew that he was privileged but he didn’t sound that entitled. Did he? “I just thought if we could find some actual evidence that they exist, or at least give him something other than rumours to work off of, it might help him put an end to this.” 

 “That sounds like a better plan,” Audrey said, “I’ll tell you what I know, but I need you to promise me that anything that I mention about New Vellarton goes completely unmentioned to your father. It’s really important to my friends that it doesn’t become known to the general public.” 

 “But my father can--”

 “Don’t make me regret saving your life.” 

 “I won’t,” Kit muttered. 

 “Ok,” Audrey said, “We know that they like to hang out around Morbane. They tend to avoid Coral Bay because the pirates are such a damn nuisance, but we know they’ve been out that way anyways.”

 Kit nodded, remembering that it had been a reported disappearance in Coral Bay four years ago that had prompted his father to look into the issue. As per the last update on the case, most of the locals were blaming the pirates that plagued the area. Allegedly, it had been the doing of a pirate captain named Marcus Hadley, who was feared all over the coasts of Toltova. From what Kit had heard, Marcus seemed to thrive off of causing chaos and instilling fear into people. The pirates had always been a problem in the coastal areas, but Hadley in particular had been a constant thorn in the side of the authorities in the coastal areas. He’d committed just about every kind of crime imaginable according to the locals, but only a small handful of the stories proved to be true. Regardless, his father’s men had been pretty confident that he had been responsible for the disappearance. 

 “So, if my father wanted to catch a few Patrol Guards, he should send some people down to Morbane?” Kit asked. 

 “In theory, yeah,” Audrey said, “But they don’t really strike there very often. I’m not too sure why.” 

 “Do you think it’s because they know my father is onto them?” Kit asked.

 “Possibly,” Audrey said, “But now that they’re operating in secret they have to be more careful. They can’t just go off and kill a bunch of people because they might have powers.” 

 “Right,” Kit said, “So they need to make sure that the people that they’re taking actually do have powers.” Another idea struck him. “Audrey, what if we baited them?” 

 Audrey considered it for a moment. Kit could see the gears in her head turning. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Kit,” she said finally. 

 He frowned. He thought for sure that he had convinced her. “Why not?”

 “For one thing, we’d have to find someone who’s ok with exposing their powers in public,” Audrey said, “I’m not ok with doing that. You’re probably not either, and I can practically guarantee that none of my friends would ever agree to that. But let’s say we do find someone, it’s just too risky. What if something goes wrong? It would be our fault, and I would never want to live with that kind of guilt.” 

 “But--” 

 “No buts,” Audrey protested, “I don’t think you understand how horrible these people are!” 

 “Fine, we won’t do that then,” Kit huffed, “But I think we should at least try to get some of this information to my father. What else do you know?” 

 Audrey shrugged. “Not much like I said,” she said, “I know they have a headquarters somewhere in the mountains. I’ve even...” Her voice trailed off and she looked over her shoulder towards the door. 

 “What is it?” Kit asked. 

 “Thought I heard something.” Audrey said quietly. 

 Kit paused. “I hear it too,” he said. It sounded like footsteps; multiple people walking up the steps towards the tower. 

 “We need to hide,” Audrey whispered. 

 Kit looked around the room looking for somewhere to hide. The only place that provided a half decent hiding spot would have been behind one of the gears. They wouldn’t complete conceal him, but at least it might buy him some time. He got up and walked over to one of the massive gears, ducking behind it as he sat down next to his bag. 

 “Kit,” Audrey said crouching down next to him, “This might be nothing, but if it’s the Patrol-- I’ll do my best, but my loyalties lie with my friends in New Vellarton.” 

 “Are you serious,” Kit exclaimed. 

 “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make sure we both get out of this,” Audrey said. She extended her hand. “Here, hold my hand. As long as we’re maintaining some kind of physical contact, I should be able to turn you invisible too.” 

 Kit held her hand, squeezing it tightly. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the footsteps grew increasingly louder. 

 Three young men stepped into the small room. All three of them were blonde haired and blue eyed. They looked similar enough that they could have been brothers, though they were fairly close in age. They were well dressed too, Kit noticed. They very well could have been members of Galtia’s upper middle class. 

 “Doesn’t look like there’s much here,” the shortest of the three remarked. 

 “Shut up Dorian,” The man in the middle hissed. 

 “Just look around quickly,” The oldest one snapped, “No one saw him at the train stations, he’s gotta be in the city somewhere.” 

 The three men scattered and began scouring the room for any sign that someone else was with them. Kit closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want to know how close they were getting to him. He continued to squeeze Audrey’s hand, unaware of how firm his grip was around her slender hands. 

 “Hm, what’s this?” 

 Kit opened up one eye to see one of the three men standing only a few inches away from him. Kit bit his lip to try and stop himself from crying out. He could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes. He couldn’t remember a time that he had felt this afraid. Even when Alexander had threatened him, he’d been terrified, but he took comfort knowing that his father was not too far away and that there were guards nearby. But now, he was all alone. As far as his parents knew he was on his way to Morbane. Audrey’s powers were the only thing keeping him safe right now. 

 The young man reached down and picked up Kit’s bag. 

 He opened up the bag and began rifling through it. It didn’t take him long to find the Book Of Powers. “Now this is interesting,” the man said.

 “What did you find, Donovan?” Dorian asked. 

 “It’s a copy of the Book of Powers,” Donovan replied grinning gleefully.

 “That’s impossible,” The oldest of the three men snapped, “All the copies were destroyed.” 

 “Not all of them apparently,” Donovan replied, “This must belong to the King. Only he would want to hold on to something like this.” He curled his upper lip in disgust as he spoke, and spat out the words as if they left a bad taste in his mouth. 

 “Yeah,” Dorian agreed, “What a pathetic excuse for a King, isn’t he? Wasting all his resources trying to find a couple of useless kids. I guess just anyone can be King these days.” 

 The comment made Kit’s skin crawl. He wanted nothing more than to defend his father, but his own fear kept him rooted to his spot and his mouth sealed shut. It wasn’t worth blowing their cover. 

 Donovan took a step forward, planting his foot right down on top of Kit’s. At this point, Kit’s heart felt like it would burst right out of his chest. His whole body trembled as he silently pleaded that Donovan wouldn’t notice anything. Kit could tell by the man’s mystified expression that this was not the case. Donovan started poking at him with the tip of his shoe.“What the..?” 

 Instantly the other two men rushed over to Donovan’s side. 

 Kit felt Audrey tug at his hand, indicating for him to stand up. He stood up, but Donovan still held his bag. Most of his belongings in the bag weren’t hugely valuable; it was mostly just his clothes and he had plenty of those back at home. But he would definitely be needing his money, and while he didn’t technically need the book, his father would kill him for losing it. 

 He’d have to go on without it. He hoped that his father would understand given the circumstances, but he felt a pang of regret for not being more careful with his belongings. The last copy of the Book Of Powers would be destroyed, and it was completely his fault. He should have left it at the castle. Perhaps there would be a way to rewrite it, or restore it somehow, but Kit tried not to think about it. It was the least of his problems. 

“What is it?” The oldest of the three demanded, “I don’t see anything.” 

 “I don’t think we’re alone here, Damian,” Donovan said, a twisted grin spread across his face. He wound his leg back preparing for a hard kick.

 Audrey pulled Kit out of the way as Donovan swung his leg, and nearly toppled backwards when his foot didn’t make contact with Kit’s side. 

 The other two young men began laughing, as Donovan’s face turned a deep shade of red. “No you don’t understand,” Donovan jabbered, “There was something-- it was like I hit an invisible wall or something!” 

 Audrey led Kit out of their hiding spot, while Donovan still frantically tried to explain what had happened. They tiptoed quietly towards the stairs, making sure to give the men a wide berth so they didn’t accidentally run into them. 

 They were halfway across the room when Damian let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Alright, well there’s nothing here. I’m going to go back down to make sure we didn’t miss anything.” Audrey and Kit both froze as he began walking in their direction. He came almost right up against them, inches away from where Kit stood. Kit took a small step backwards.

 Damian spun around, brandishing a knife. “Who’s there,” He demanded, “Show yourself!” 

 Kit held his breath, uncertain of what to do next. If he tried to move again, then Damian would surely hear him. He couldn’t just stand in place and do nothing. Not with Damian standing inches away from him with a knife. 

 “What’s going on,” Dorian asked. 

 “I heard something,” Damian said, “And it sounded like it was coming from over…. here!” 

 As he spoke the last word his spun towards Kit, thrusting his knife in his direction. Kit ducked to the right, trying to avoid it. He hadn’t realized that Audrey had ducked in the opposite direction until he felt her fingers slide through his hand. 

 Just like his cover was blown. He stood in the middle of the floor, both visible and vulnerable. He had nothing to defend himself with except his own powers, but he didn’t want to have to use them. Not in front of Patrol members. 

 A cruel grin played across Damian’s face as Kit appeared only a foot away from him. “Well, well,” Damian purred, “Look who made an appearance.” 

 Kit looked frantically around the room for Audrey, or at least some sign of her whereabouts, but saw nothing. He couldn’t even make out any footsteps that didn’t belong to Dorian or Donovan. She had promised to help him if anything were to happen. So where was she? 

 “Father’s gonna be real happy with us,” Donovan said as he and Dorian closed in on him. Dorian stood by the stairs, blocking his only escape route. He had been backed into a corner with nowhere to go, and as far as he could tell, Audrey was not going to help him. How could she without blowing her cover? 

 “Please,” Kit begged, “Don’t… you can’t-- you can’t do this.” 

 “Don’t worry,” Damian sneered, “We’re not going to kill you. Oh no, you’re too valuable for that. We won’t hurt you either as long as you cooperate and do exactly what we tell you.” 

 Damian grabbed Kit, pointing the knife at his throat. Kit gasped, but he wasn’t going to give in so easily. He fought against the man’s tight grasp, thrashing frantically in a desperate attempt to escape. Without warning, Damian’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, releasing Kit. He knew right away that it had been Audrey. He took it as an opportunity to escape and dashed towards the first of many staircases that wound their way around the inside of the tower towards the bottom. 

 He sprinted down the steps, taking two stairs at a time, trying to put as much distance as he could between three men. It didn’t take long for them to start following him down the stairs, but Kit at least had a significant head start. 

 About halfway down, he could feel himself growing weary. He was out of breath, but he pushed forward, ignoring the burning sensation in his lungs that pleaded for him to stop. He glanced over his shoulder, and groaned when he saw that the boys were right behind him. 

 He was on one of the landings, ready to start making his way down yet another set of stairs when he was grabbed and tackled to the ground. 

 “Quickly,” his captor grunted, as Kit tried to escape his clutches. 

 “Nice work, Damian,” He heard one of the other boys sneer. It was the last thing he heard before someone grabbed his wrist, followed shortly the telltale poke of a needle sliding into his vein. 

 He felt the effects almost instantly. It was just like the other night when Alexander had drugged him. How long ago that had seemed. 

 “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kit murmured before closing his eyes and letting the drug take its course. 

--

Author’s note: I don’t know if anyone actually has been keeping up with this story, but if anyone is, thanks for being so patient while I edited this chapter. With that being said, if anyone is keeping up with this, please let me know how you’re liking it so far. Tumblr doesn’t let me see who views posts so the only way for me to know if someone has seen my post is if they like, reblog, or comment somehow. I really would love to hear some feedback from you guys. I haven’t had much luck on wattpad either. 

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