#my first beta reader finished lyric today

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

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“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[kino-rogers]

He is always a call away (Tangerine/Reader)

Word count: 825 (reasonably short and sweet)

Song: 0800 HEAVEN | Nathan Dawe, Joel Corry, Ella Henderson (listen, I know the vibes don't fit but the lyrics inspired me to write this aha)

Short summary: Bullet Train happens and everything goes down as it does in the film. Reader is trying to process that Tangerine won't come home again.

Warnings: Canon typical swearing, angst, (light) past trauma mention

notes: thank you @nocturnest for jumping on this to fix my broken English and being a wonderful beta!! what an intro but uh [coughs] i'm already excited to write more for this fandom (bits in which Tangie is very much alive ehehe) anywaayyy, hope you guys like this!! - 🥝

It's not been the… easiest time - it has to be said.

Since that phone call from Lemon, you've been struggling with sleep. It doesn't show in your work, of course. Keeping up appearances has always come to you rather naturally. Some of it being from your repressed trauma, that even years of therapy barely scratched the surface of, but also because of your line of work too. It doesn't sit well to be an emotional wreck after every kill you're paid to do.

The call was from a number you didn't recognise. The passing sound of traffic suggested it's from a payphone as Lemon sighed heavily down the line.

"You lost your phone? On a train?" You answered the call lightheartedly and you recognized his sigh immediately, you hoped it was just a release of pent up tension over a job well finished. Although, the fact that Lemon was the one to call, put you on edge, hoping it's not coming through your pretend jolliness.

"He's gone." His statement was simple and sudden. The tone, stone cold, as his voice was raspy, possibly from crying.

"Who's gone, Lemon?"

Your throat ran dry as you swallowed around a lump. Your chest quickly tightened as you tried to piece together what he could have meant. You couldn't- no, didn't want to think about the most likely possibility.

"Tan-" He took a pause, cleared his throat before continuing. "Tangerine, was shot in the neck, he is gone."

It's not like you guys were dating, no, it wasn't anything like that. Neither of you had the emotional capacity for that. What, with your jobs requiring you to spend weeks, months away from each other at a time, sometimes in different countries, opposite sides of the world. But he was the first person, in a long while, that you genuinely cared for.

~~~

You turn to your bedside table, glance at the alarm clock there. Its digital display shines in orange numbers, 01:54.

It's a month, today.

You suddenly have a stupid idea. What would happen if you called his number? Last time you checked it was still live, it'd probably just take you to voicemail. Weirdly, your therapist at your last session suggested writing letters to him, in your bereavement. Bereavement. Such a weird word. You're not even sure that's what this is. But maybe leaving a voicemail would be an equivalent. Maybe he can listen to his voicemails, wherever he is. You scoff at the fleeting thought but reach for your phone anyway.

Tangie is still in your recent calls. You tap the saved contact and wait for it to ring.

You're not expecting anyone to answer, of course not. Your grief hasn't driven you completely nuts. But as the phone rings, you can't help but think about getting to talk to him, just once more. By some divine intervention, you'd be connected through to him, in the afterlife and you could tell him everything you couldn't the last time you spoke.

"-after the beep BEEP"

"Hi Tangie," You scoff in embarrassment, not really sure why you're doing this anymore. "I uh,"

You sigh heavily, all too aware of the silence the machine is expecting you to fill. You sniffle as you start to speak again.

"I know you won't hear this. That… Isn't really the point." You draw a shaky breath. "I know who did it though. Well, knew. Lemon and I took him out last week. What kind of an assassin's name is Ladybug anyway?" You snicker. Can't avoid the tightness in your chest though.

"I just… I dunno. Apparently I should be writing letters to you, as if I could send them off with a pigeon and they'd get to wherever the fuck you are. So, this is the next best thing. If this was anyone else, you'd tell me to fuck off and to suck it up. We always were on the same wavelength, when it came to feelings." Your chest deflates with a long exhale as you realise you need to stop dancing around whatever it is you're trying to say here.

"I guess I just wanted to tell you I really fucking miss you." You sniffle again, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. "I miss your stupid grin, your teasing, your annoyingly cocky attitude, your… The way you looked at me."

"I wish you were here right now so I could tell you I love you. I wish I didn't, I really goddamn wish I didn't care for you so much but I fucking love you. And I hate that I can't see your face as I told you, for the first time. Please call me back."

You bury your face in your pillow and you howl into it, sobs shaking your body as the voicemail recording is saved and you continue to wallow in your bereavement. You're supposed to be feeling better. You need to stop paying your therapist.

[lettersandinkstains]

congrats on finishing a wip!! Whats ur secret!!!! lmao

This isn't my first WIP I've finished, so that helped me a bit. (There's a reason I don't talk about my Vampire WIP anymore, it's done, just sitting archived for me to go in and edit it, and do a new draft of it)

Knowing my limits, taking breaks, and shelving when I start to get frustrated. If I find myself dreading the writing process, it's time to take a break and focus on something else.

I also shelved other WIPs to focus on one, otherwise I wouldn't finish anything. Too many projects meant my mind is split onto too many things, and HEMLOCKS was already established with a few interested beta's that weren't on Tumblr or any writing server - just a couple of friends I could trust with the document and liking the synopsis.

I also had Lyric's voice stuck in my head until I wrote her story and re-wrote it until I was mostly satisfied with it. I also did writ a lot of it when I was feeling low or in a bad state of mind, so some of it was just mostly vent works, drawing from my own past or a late partner's past (minus the "parent killed the other parent" part of it all), especially something that Lyric talks about that I and my late partner personally went through at different times.

It was also just reminding myself that there's no rush to finish it, perfection is never going to be achieved so I may as well just do it and write what I want to write and see in a story. It helped me that it is actually an entirely different genre than what I normally write, so I actually had to test myself and see where my limits actually lied.

Also, I didn't talk about it too much on social media so I didn't feel like I had to write a WHAM line every time or feel like I had to create, create, create and make every sentence and line meaningful and deep. It felt pretentious more than normal.

I also stopped complaining. I stopped complaining about the writing process, how I didn't know what to say or what to call it or what to do or how much I hated it, hate that, and jokes of "why can't it write itself" jokes. I stopped insulting it. It didn't feel good, I didn't feel good, it just made me hate what I was doing more, so I just decided to stop complaining about it, and started sharing what I was proud of with a select few friends.

If you speak negatively about your stuff, why should anyone else like it? Why should anyone else read it? "This story sucks and I hate writing it" vs "Some scenes are giving me trouble and I'm getting a little annoyed" are two incredibly different statements, one puts most readers off and the other is relatable. Like on A03, "I suck at summaries" won't net you shit. "This story probably sucks" won't do anything. And you'll also eventually start to believe that - what then? If you hate what you're writing it, why are you writing it?

Was it frustrating sometimes? Did I run into writers block? Yes, so I shelved it and came back to it later when I had some more inspiration. I wrote it in Google Docs entirely and would link my friends to get live responses, I wrote at home and not at work because if I wrote at work, I'd associate it with work.

If I wanted to stop writing it, I did. HEMLOCKS got put aside for awhile for fanfiction because I found not working with my own OCs for awhile genuinely helped me.

I stopped editing as I went. The best advice I ever received was, edit later, write now. Worry about mistakes and perfection later and then accept that perfection isn't possible, and that's okay!

I start writing it when I was awake and stopped when I was tired, I took breaks, I ate when I needed to, drank water when I needed to, etc. None of that, "I won't eat or drink or do anything until I write 5K words today!" Absolutely the fuck not, and I still see shit like that in writing spaces. TAKE CARE OF YOUR BODY, your brain needs that shit to WORK. A healthy body DOES equal a healthy mind, drinking some water does wonders, so does going for a short walk or focusing on something else. You need to listen to your bodies signals :/

...And I honestly stopped participating in NANO. Camp or Novembers. I honestly didn't like it, didn't like the pressure - it stopped feeling fun after awhile and started to feel like work. And I stopped talking about it altogether, except with a few friends who are close to my heart and may be the only ones to ever read it. Likely if I am asked if someone can read it, I will say no.

Lastly, I stopped posting on here. Like, I absolutely love writeblr, I've met some great people on here but - I found not posting in writing communities helped me a lot. Notes had become a big thing and I was too fixated on it, and then I realized that if it was wrecking my mental health, it's time to leave. I hate sanitizing things or writing for the masses, I like to write what I like and often times, that's WLW and not MLM. And sometimes even not romance and more something like HEMLOCKS. And I found that I was posting more about my WIPs than actually writing them or feeling motivated to write them.

I have plenty more, especially when it comes to HEMLOCKS but that's between me and the two people that know why I was working on it and what was happening like two nights ago that made me finish it.

SO this is Novel Number Two that is finished for me and I feel like I've only been able to talk about it with like three people. I am incredibly proud of myself.

[ninawolv3rina]

I'm incapable of drawing anything but them rn

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 6/?

Word Count: 2.6-2.7k idk exact

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name (your best friend’s name)

MUSIC IS INCLUDED THIS TIME! Please enjoy my personal music playlist, or at least a snippet of it.

TO THE PERSON WHO REBLOGGED AND SAID THIS WAS CUTE (at least the first part) you straight up made me cry omfg

Warnings: Swearing, gets really fucking heated at the end (no sex, yet), no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Outfit Context:

Y/N:

Jason:

(Cause I finally found an outfit I liked on the boy, men’s fashion isn’t my strong suit,,, heh :) )

“Sorry, is my mouth hung open?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. Very much so,” she mocked.

Jason closed his mouth and outstretched his hand for Y/N’s, cupping it with both hands and kissing the top of it.

“You just look so lovely, Y/N.”

“And you’re chivalrous, Jay. Now, should we get going?” she asked, putting her free hand on top of his two.

“Yes, let’s go,” he let one of his hands go of hers and lead her to the Porsche he brought with him, not intertwining his fingers with hers.

He opened the passenger’s side door and let Y/N get in, not letting go of her hand til the last moment he could hold it. He got in an turned on the radio,

It felt like a good night, for dancing in the moonlight,

In empty streets, well, everybody's got a reason why,

If we could only just get it right,

Maybe it will all work out like in the movies,

But I know Romeo must die before the ending,

With a final poison kiss delivered gently,

Because you don't get lucky twice, and that's the truth,

“Sing to me sweet just like my memory, 

If New York City Still moves me then I’ve found something real,

I’ll be okay, I could go on for days,

But I just don’t have the courage that it takes to be real,

And even if it’s dark at least we’ll be together,

Slowly sinking in the Earth to lay forever,

You better grab a hold and hold on for your life,

Because you don’t get lucky twice,

No, you don’t get lucky twice,” She sung with the tune.

Without the Bitter the Sweet Isn’t as Sweet - Mayday Parade

“You, you have the voice of an angel,” he said.

“It’s not that hard to mimic works of art with my voice.”

“Did you ever take singing lessons?”

“I did when I was younger, so I could sing French lullabies to my cousins.”

He placed a hand on her thigh as he drove them through the countryside of Gotham to Metropolis, taking the long way on what seemed like purpose. So he could encapsulate the moment in his memory for as long as he knew her and what she was to him. She was an adventure waiting to happen, a love story not yet written to tell for ages, a rock ‘n’ roll song written to please the masses in hidden corners of the world.

And to her, he was a masterwork of intertwining memories of pain, sadness, luck and beauty. A mind of complexity she was just waiting to dive into and see how it functioned. A story behind the white tuff of hair he had, why he was jacked to the masses if he was a book nerd. A story of his favourite book and his favourite sibling, his favourite trope, his love, his pain, him.

The moments where she stuck her hand out the window and traced symbols into the Autumn air swirling past the two as they cruised down the empty back roads. When he laughed as she sang Reste by GIMS and Sting. He didn’t understand the lyrics, but she did, and she called it a love song. Well, he got the parts Sting sung, but French wasn’t a language he knew like she did.

“I guess being Bilingual helped you out massively with that one, huh?”

“It’s a talent I never knew I needed, apparently.”

“Well, you did know you needed.”

“That’s fair,” she laughed, “ I guess I did always need it as a skill.”

“Do your cousins speak English too?” he asked.

“Yeah, a bit? It’s better English than my father.”

“Can he not speak English?”

“Well, he can, just not well. But my mother is also Bilingual in English and French so they never had to worry about my father being bad at English. My twin sister and I grew up knowing both languages,” she rambled, still playing with the wind, “I guess it’s a one-up I have on a lot of people, being able to just talk and talk in another language, travelling advantage,” she kept going, Jason intently listening to her as she went on and on, he liked the silence being filled by her voice, “You know? You might know, I don’t know how you were raised to a T,” she finished.

“Well, I can assure you I only know English so you have that theoretical one-up on me, too. But I choose to see that one-up as something you can teach me as time goes on and we progress,” he paused, “If you’re down to get serious eventually, that is,” he panicked.

“Well, maybe we’re at that point where we can say we’re casually seeing each other and exclusive, but not serious. Hopeful, but not pressuring ourselves into something that’s going to be put under a lot of pressure as we go on,” she said, still playing with the wind.

“We’ll see about that after dinner.”

“Where are we even going?”

“Fancy little restaurant with a balcony facing over the city,” he assured.

“Really out here living for the moments?”

“Well, most girls crack under the pressure of the paparazzi, you, however, flipped them off, and that’s being rewarded for showing that you can’t give a fuck about those dingy ass tabloids and how they treat you, by taking you out to nice places,” he said.

She laughed, “I’m glad I’m never going to live that one down, it was really fun to do.”

“I hope it continues as we go along, I would hate to see that behavior change when it brings a smile to everyone who’s ever been harassed by paparazzi” when they pulled over for a second, Jason quickly loosened his tie a tad, “Honestly, I want to ditch this fucking tie,”

“It’s not you,” she said, “It’s just not.”

“And you know me that well to take that guess?”

“I could see you struggling with it from a mile away, Jason. Maybe the fancy restaurant isn’t us,” she laughs, “But we aren’t going to not take that dinner date.”

“Oh we’re so going to take that date, but I’m thinking from here on out we do whatever the fuck we want, no fancy dates. Thoughts?” he asked.

“Done deal,” she said.

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

In the restaurant, the two of them were basically the worst people to be there, it was levels of fancy that neither of them actually wanted, they both wanted simplicity, but they both thought the presence of the other person was enough of a takeaway from the completely wrong choice of restaurant. They had Dick to blame for this one, and Jason made that clear to Dick in a joking text while Y/N snuck off to the bathroom to ‘fix her hair, she was actually checking her breath.

Dick, this fucking restaurant is a god damn bust, man. We aren’t you and Barbara, that’s what we’ve discovered today. lol.

Bummer! We really like that place.

I can see why it screams Dick and Barbs.

You kissed her yet though?

No.

Wuss! Cat got your tongue? Just do it, man.

And at the same time, Y/N was texting A/N about Jason and what to do,

Girl! Thank you so much for reminding me to bring mints, my god, food ruins your breath so much.

You really want the pretty boy kiss huh?

No, I’m eating the mints to not kiss him, YES I WANT THE KISS.

Ha! Honesty is key, just go for it.

She laughed as she packed her phone into her dress pockets (Yeah there’s fucking pockets :) ) and went to leave the restroom to meet up with Jason again. To which, Jason had already paid and tipped the waiter.

“I could have at least helped on the tip, Jay.”

“I tipped him 200%, but if you want to drop more cash, go for it.”

“You tipped that much?” she asked while slipping in a 50$ she had on her.

“Of course, food service workers deserve a lot more than what they get, especially when they have to deal with terrible customers,” he said as he went and grabbed her hand again, not intertwining fingers again, “And my best friend, Will, he complains about people who don’t tip and praises people who quote ‘over tip’ but I think that he deserves 200% each bill for the shit he puts up with.”

“Did you tip him when we went there?”

“No, I called in a ‘No questions asked’ favour. And before you say anything, he did the same to make me babysit his daughter-”

“Your best friend has a daughter?”

“Well, he’s older than me, but yeah, he’s a single dad because her mum kind of sucks, lovely little girl, I’m her godfather.”

“Does she call you Uncle Jason?”

“Well, Uncle Jay, it’s like one of the only works she knows how to say properly, and Dada,” he laughed, “Great little girl,” he said, nervously, “This doesn’t change anything, does it? ‘Cause if he, knock on fucking wood, lord forbids, dies that will be my daughter.”

“Well, he’s not dead and you’re not worrying that he’s going to die, so nothing has to change. God kids are god kids, noble that you took on your best friend’s kid if, lord forbid, anything happens to the man, really,” she assured.

He sighed and kissed the back of her hand, “Then that is just a gift on top of what I did,” he smiled and lead her back to the Porsche once again, opening the car door for her and she slightly turned on the radio, he let out a small laugh to himself, he got the pretty girl. He got into the Porsche again and began backing out.

“There’s something about ditching a really expensive dinner date that leaves you wanting more,” she said, absent-mindedly.

“What kind of more?” he asked.

“The kind you see in the movies, fully exposed and adventurous, you know?”

“Well, we could always sneak into the Wayne Manor Gardens and dance the night away under the stars like lovers do,” he half-joked, placing a hand on her thigh again and pretending like he did it subconsciously, but he was hyper-aware, especially when he caught her smile as she laughed.

“Wayne Manor? With your brothers, sisters, dad, and grandfather?” she paused, “If you’re serious, then no, not tonight. If you’re pulling my leg then, hell fucking no,” she joked.

“Maybe one day, then, huh?”

“One day, for sure. When it isn’t scary to accidentally run into your family on their property running around with you,” she said.

“Well, we can always go into the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom and dance the night away, no one should be in the office for a while and even then since there are no classes in the entire school tomorrow you can just hide out in my office if we stay too long,” he paused to make sure she was still listening, “Security can’t question me because I’m Bruce Wayne’s son, and security is tight as fuck so paparazzi can’t get to us,” he paused to put a little bit of pressure on her thigh, “What do you say? Can I have this dance, Milady?” he half-joked.

“You want to know something Jason?

“Always, Y/N.”

“I took dance lessons when I was younger, can you Waltz?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, I can.”

“Then I’m in, let’s go.”

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

She loved the feeling of being back in her new hometown, Gotham. So when they pulled into the massive black building, she felt even more welcomed, security at the gates did ask ‘Who’s the girl?’ but Jason just explained it very easily,

“You know that date of mine that flipped off the press and you lot loved it?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” the man responded.

“You can call me Jason, you know that. But this is that girl.”

And they were let through the parking gates and into the underground parking system, they had to travel surprisingly far to Jason’s reserved spot in the lot, but the did get there before it hit AM. Once out of the car, Jason grabbed her hand and they ran into the building’s employees doors. It was a tight squeeze, but the feeling of Jason pressed so close to her sent chills down her spine. They went through many halls and reached the Ballroom, and entering it was like a dream for her.

Walls lined with intricate shapes and colours, but the colours never brought away from the stage at the far end from the door, the curtains seemed to redden with each step towards them, the 3, maybe 4 chandeliers hung above her like crystals in the ocean, it was amazing and beautiful. Checkered floorboards to give it a little bit of dimension, but it was the same colour as the main wall so your brain and eyes wouldn’t hurt after looking at it. It was stunningly beautiful and that’s what drew her in.

When he grabbed her hand and put on Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine, pulling her close to his chest and slowly Waltzing her around the room, spinning her when it felt right for him to do. Neither of them worried about the sloppiness or how it looked to the naked eye because it was for them. no one got satisfaction like they did at that moment. And grabbing her for one last dip was Jason’s goal when the ending of the song hit, although out of breath and his face stuffed in her chest as they both panted, he did pull her up so they were face-to-face on the dancefloor that they wiped clean.

“Did I tell you that you look stunning, Y/N?”

“I think you mentioned it a few times, Jay,” she said, staring directly into his eyes.

“Well, I mean it.”

“And I’m going to mean this,” she paused, taking her hand and placing it on his cheek, “ The way your eyes are a green-blue tint makes me lost in them, they’re like a sea of this mind I find myself liking more and more every day,” she paused to put her other hand on his other cheek, “And the way your nose and cheek freckles frame them is amazing.”

And he went for it. Somehow when he pressed his lips into hers, it felt like they were meant to match, and they both opened their mouths to play the coveted game of tongue-war, but they didn’t play by the rules, it was soft and sweet but full of passion and love, not lust. His hands would travel to her waist and lightly grip her, while her hands would travel to his neck and drape around the back of it.

They pulled away at the same moment to take in air, something they had clearly been missing as they were connected, they both let out a small chuckle before she put her hands in his hair and went in for round 2.

This time it was hungrier, and they both played with the shapes of the other so much more as time went on, he would grab her ass and she would pull on his hair slightly before he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and moved one of her hands to the nape of his neck, this time, they would break for seconds only to start moving towards his office, which, conveniently, had a couch.

To say he threw her on that couch would be an understatement, he fucking thrust her on that couch and climbed on top of her, it was like 3 days of passion and lust combined themselves in a matter of minutes from their first kiss to them meeting on the couch. They both knew deep down that it couldn’t escalate further than this, especially at 1 in the morning, but time moves fast when you’re connecting in this way.

They finally broke after their passionate exchange and he fell to her side and began to spoon her, “Worth it,” he whispered.

“Worth what?” she asked.

“It was worth it to take a chance and defy my anxieties to ask you on that first date.”

“I don’t like a reality where you didn’t ask me on that date.”

“Neither do I, and I’m positive of that.”

[stuntgirlatthevampiremansion]

To the Rhythm of the Ocean

Pairing: Jake Kiszka/reader

word count: 2,226

warnings: first person POV, the reader is mentioned to be an artist and bisexual but it is not important to the plot. Other than that its just a fluffy day at the beach. 😊

A/n: at last, I finally wrote a fic. It is extremely self-indulgent and was inspired by some anons that @safari-karrot got that I definitely did NOT send ;). I also want to thank Kate for being my beta! I worked pretty hard on it and im proud of it. Hope you enjoy!

-----------

Walking into the elevator of my apartment complex, I was able to let my shoulders relax and my guard down for the first time all day. The day at the studio was intense today, and for all the wrong reasons. No matter how much I tried, I wasn’t able to create anything, as if all of the motivation and drive to do my work had burned out. I was burnt out. I was lucky enough to score an apartment next door to a pair of twins, Jake and Josh, who quickly became good friends. And even more fortunate, they had come back home this week from recording with their band, which meant I could spend my afternoon with them instead of alone in my own apartment. 

I entered my house and set my bags and work down on the dining table. It was impossible to make out where the table was under pile of unfinished sketches and work plans, but that was a tomorrow problem. I put on the kettle to make some tea and shot Jake a text asking if I could come over. 

  Jake... in the last couple of years that i have known the twins, the have become an indispensable part of my life. We take turns cooking for the three of us and hosting movie nights, an even go do laundry together. Having them away for so long felt like a hole had been carved out of my soul, and it also made my harboring crush on Jake ache deeper and deeper. He was unlike anyone I had ever met, we understood each other in a way I never thought I would have with anyone, yet he was still an enigma. He was insanely talented and driven, and he was smart. And kind. And funny. And extremely easy on the eyes. I would never tell him this though, his friendship is all I can get, and I’ll learn to live with that. 

His text came back telling me that his door was open. I finished and drank my tea, washed my face, changed into more comfortable clothes, and made my way next door. 

When I came into the twins’s apartment Jake was sitting on the sofa playing his guitar, a small notebook sat on his lap. At my entrance, he sent a smile my way, but continued playing. 

“Where is Josh?” 

“He’s out filming. Why, did you need him?” 

“No, just wonderin’.” 

“You know, if you just want to hang out with me to try to get into my brother’s pants, you could have just told me. And I want no part of it. Here I was thinking we were best friends.” He teased and wiped fake tears from his eyes, but his smile said that he was just messing. That did not, however, stop my nerves. Best friend.

“I do not want to get into your brother’s pants, Jake. They wouldn’t fit me.” I took of my boots and plopped on the couch next to him. “I’m your best friend?! What about Josh, Danny and Sam?”

“That’s different, they’re my brothers.”

“Hm... I guess you’re a fine friend too, one could even say the best one I’ve had.” Friend. 

“And the best one you’ll ever have.” He set his guitar down to his other side, “how was the studio today? Any new paintings?“ 

I let out an exasperated sigh “I wish. I am incredible burned out, I can barely even pick up a pencil! I have gotten close to nothing done all week and Rachel keeps asking me out, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Rachel? What did you say?” If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought I saw pain flash across his face.

“I told her no, but that is besides the point. I’m just so out of it...” 

“You do look like you need some adventure.”

“You could say that” 

“You know what?” He got up from the couch and pulled me to stand with him. “I’ll give it to you. Go get dressed, I’ll get everything ready.” 

  “What? Where are we going?”

“If i tell you it wont be a surprise. Now go to your house and get ready.” 

“Then what do I wear?”

He seemed to think about it for a while, then said “something comfortable, but tropical.” 

“Jake, that tells me absolutely nothing—“

“You’ll figure it out. Now leave, and don’t come back unless you’re on party business.” It was futile to keep going so I just stuck my tongue back at him and walked out of the door and into my apartment. 

I settled on wearing a short blue sundress, boots, and a pair of sunglasses. I walked back into his apartment to find Jake in the shortest shorts i have even seen him wear, an unbuttoned white shirt, and his signature combination of necklaces and a bucket hat. “Are those Sam’s?” 

“No, I own shorts too.” He put down two boxes on the coffee table and looked me over once. “That is exactly what I meant! Now carry this to the car.” He handed me a box full of snacks and drinks and we made our way down to the car. 

I rode shotgun. He still refused to tell where we were headed. No matter how much I pushed and tried to wear him down, he just said to wait and find out. We got busy talking and listening to music and I gave up asking. Instead, I admired the scenery passing around us, and I admired Jake, with the windows down, his hair wild in the wind, and rocking out to our playlist. He had the ability to make me happy by just taking me on a drive. He didn’t even have to try. 

Eventually the buildings turned into trees, and the trees to palm trees, until finally we arrived at a clearing by the ocean. Jake parked the car, “We’re here!”

“You brought me to the beach!” He brought me to the beach! The ocean! The one place I loved most in the world. “I could marry you right now!” I threw my arms around him and jumped out of the car. My boots were off in a second and by the next my feet were already in the water. Jake did the same before joining me at the shore. 

“So, was it a good surprise?” I could hear his smile without even looking at him. And he knew the answer before I even spoke.

“The best! Thank you, Jake. Really.” 

We set on an easy pace through the shore, side by side. Each picking out seashells and skipping rocks on the water. The sun wasn’t unbearable, for it was afternoon. The sky was blue and almost cloudless, the only thing that altered it were the shapes of birds flying overhead. The sand was coarse and stuck to our feet, but it wasn’t burning. The sea... it was an array of the bluest blues one could imagine, all coexisting for our pleasure. Jake was glowing,  and I must have been too, I was incandescently happy. 

Back at the car, I set out our snacks and liquor while Jake put in some music. Halfway through our first meal and first bottle, Jake turned up the radio, and waited for my reaction.

“I love this song!”

“I know you do, thats why I put it.” He took our food and put it away on the roof of the car; and for the second time today, pulled me by the hand to stand. “let’s dance” 

His touch sent electric currents up my back. Best friend. “this song isn’t danceable, Jake!”

“It is if we want it to be.” And he held my hand in his and dragged me towards the clearing. The breeze was calming, the sea was a splendid blue. The waves lapped at the shore, not strong enough to disrupt our song.

Turns out, the song was danceable after all; and so were all the others that came after it. We held each other while we took turns twirling and laughing, belting our lyrics and acting out the drama of the songs. Every lick of his fingers on my skin left a burning sensation, yet I couldn't get enough. If he knew what this was doing to me... If he knew I was drunk on him and falling on every shared glance, every smile, every touch. 

The sun started its descend and our dancing got closer. He held his hands of my waist, my chest pressed against his, my hands on his shoulders as we swayed around our little ballroom of a clearing. My spine tingled, with every inhale, I got drunk in his scent of pine and peppermint.   

We got lost in our dancing, and then he got lost in the horizon. The sky had started to turn all shades of orange and pink, the water glimmered upon our eyes like tiny mirrors. A pelican flew over us and dived into the water in search for dinner. 

We had stopped moving, yet his hands remained placed at the small of my back, he looked at ease. My fingers twirled a strand of his hair, he didn’t mind. 

He looked like he belonged in the landscape, to the oranges and pinks that tinted the sky, he belonged to nature.

And I belonged looking at him, within arms reach yet so unattainable. He would always be a mystery. There was always more to him than met the eye, and even after years of knowing him, I hadn’t deciphered him completely. And I didn’t intend to, he was just like that. And he wasn’t mine to understand like that. 

If all I would get were stolen glances with the setting sun as out witness, I’d take it. Because right here, right now, the sight before me was one to behold. Jakes eyes were transfixed on the horizon, his mouth agape. The sun was finally hiding behind the waves, which mean our day was coming to an end. I tried not to think about it, I wouldn’t let the sun steal the light of this day from me. Ocean breeze ruffled his long hair, and as I saw the last light of day melt into his golden brown eyes, I knew that home wasn’t a place. Home is a person. And he was mine. But he would never know, for I doubted I’d be his. 

I was thrown out of my daydream when he slightly pulled back and chuckled. “ So home is a person, huh?” 

“I— “ I said that out loud. Shit shit shit. I just stared at him like a deer in the headlights. There was no way to dig myself out of this, so I remained silent. Though my hear was beating like a drum and I was certain that he could feel it due to how close he still held on. Best friends don’t say that. 

There was a shit-eating grin on his face, one that said he certainly knew what was going through my head. Instead of taunting me further, he said the words I’d most longed fo hear. 

“Then you are certainly mine” 

Nothing could stop the smile that broke out across both of our faces at that.  “And you mine” 

Before he had time to reply, I grabbed his face and pulled his lips to mine. There was static in the air, his lips were incredibly soft and tasted of coffee and chocolate. His mouth moved with expertise against mine, he held me close. Closer. Closer even still, until there was no space left between us. My heart was pounding, he licked at my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I gave, and deepened the kiss. My hands held on to him tightly, as if he would disappear would I let go. He dipped me slightly and I swore I would fall on the sand if he hadn’t held me. The purple sky could’ve turned bright yellow and I would have paid no attention. 

We pulled apart for air and the sun was completely gone. 

“Jake, I—“

“I know, I feel it too. I have for a while.”

“I was so scared that you wouldn't. Ive felt this way for you for the longest time, I—” 

“But I do!” 

“But you do!”

He pecked my lips and whispered close to my ear “And if you want, we’ll make it official. Right now. You and me, and a million sunsets to come.”

“I’m yours for as long as you want me, Jake.”

“And I’m yours forever, y/n. Even when i’m far away.” 

No words could describe what I felt. It’s as if my blood was replaced by honey and my ribcage contained the moon in all her love and glory.  “I wish I could stay here forever, in this moment. With you, and round the world.”

“Check the trunk.” He smiled too wide and untangled his arms from mine.

I reluctantly let go of him and walked towards the car. He tossed me the keys and I popped the trunk open to see the second box Jake hadn’t let me look into. I opened it and found all sorts of camping gear: One tent, two sleeping bags, toiletries, even pajamas. Jake creeped up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. I turned around with an incredulous grin.

“Is that a tent?!”

“That is a tent, sweetheart.”

The end.

—- A/N: I literally CANNOT write unless its in 1st POV. This is 100% self-indulgent, and I have no idea how to write a kiss. Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! 

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FIVE: A SPECIAL DAY

Author’s note: Hello! We have finally reached the awaited date between Harry and Alma. I was really excited for this chapter, hopefully you will enjoy it as much as I did, forgive me in advance for any mistakes, my beta reader (my boyfriend) was unavailable, so this is a good time to say that if anyone out there has the time and willingness to beta read any future chapters send me an ask or message to let me know. Enjoy! (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.6K **

Harry wakes up feeling excited, nervous and hungry. He takes care of the latter, decides to make some blueberry pancakes, turns out he can't eat more than two and a cup of coffee. Not that the pancakes weren't great, in fact they were fantastic, he even decides to brag about them on an Instagram story that is published for his close friends only. Nick quickly replies to it with a laughing emoji.

You should take a Tupperware full of them to your date ;)

The reason behind his excitement and nerves make his heart race, he decides to type in a polite 'fuck off' to his mate before heading to the shower. Under the warm spray of water he tries to sort out his thoughts. Harry doesn’t want to think about his upcoming trip to California. 

It was necessary for the album or so he thought last week, after going through a box with the very few memories he kept from his ex. He wasn’t in a right state of mind then, he feels pathetic. The only reason why he wanted to spend time in Los Angeles was because everything there —from the pavement to the sky— was tainted by her. 

Why would he want to go back to that place where the constant reminder of his pain was literally living in the same neighbourhood? Because it would provide him the cathartic release he was looking for. That’s the line he used after Sarah and Mitch tried to dissuade him from flying across the Atlantic and Harry was so proud of himself when it worked. 

That very same day, he got the first text from Alma, it was the address like she promised. ‘In case one of your talents isn’t stumbling upon my work place ;)’ the second text read and Harry had to endure Sarah’s questionnaire about the girl that made him blush with a mere wink emoji. Not that he minded talking about her, he could go on all day.

He usually preferred a shower before breakfast, usually even work out before then but well, hunger clouded his judgement earlier today. Even with that taken care of that dread still niggled him away. Just slightly. So, he decided to pick up his guitar for a moment and strummed. There was no real intention to play seriously, or to write anything down on the journal by his desk. It was more of something he enjoys too much not to do it, a way to keep his hands and mind busy, faffing around with chords. With a bit of luck he might come up with a song, a tune which just worked, that just... clicked.

Contrary to what people might believe, genius didn't strike him here and then. Not like when he'd come up with Sign of the times or Two ghosts. But finding a neat little pattern of chords a good thirty minutes later makes him smile, it's something he can work with. It needs a little polishing from Mitch and company, sure, but it has a good rhythm. He scribbled down some notes on his journal and sent the audio to his fellow musician.

Maybe he will find the words in one of the old notebooks that are somewhere in the other room, perhaps on the ones that are still on his unpacked suitcase from Japan. Silently he also hoped to find the lyrics around London. He had lived in the capital for a few years now, but he had been different then. Now he likes to think that he's a man, no longer the teenager from the boy band or the shiny new solo artist. He has new perspectives, sights, smells in this new home of his. New ideas.

Harry gazes out his bedroom window; the view is not great –mostly of the other houses in the complex. His mind focused on the cloudy sky, confused because he swore it was sunny just a few minutes ago, can bet on his life that he woke up to dazzling sunshine rays of a warm yellow colour peeking through that same window. He puts his guitar away on the bed with care and makes a beeline to his wardrobe. He needs to figure out what to wear, pronto.

Skipping her afternoon kip was not something Alma did, it was a rare occurrence which meant one thing: something special was happening.

Walking down Oxford Street, trying to decide where to get some lunch without a care in the world, that was until the calmness faded, when her schedule for the day hit her.

She had a date with Harry. A date, with Harry Styles. It was weird to go by his full name in her head, she couldn't bring herself to call or think about him as The Harry Styles.

Maybe she'd settle to call him Harry the tube guy.

The clock on her phone showed that it was no longer single figure hours, she needed to get some food now or starve until her shift was over, and then he would have to watch her feast at whatever place he chose. Alma groaned, thought how ridiculous it was to worry about him watching her eat. Harry was a grown man; of course he knows that women eat too, right?

Walking into the nearest Sainsbury's she decided to take a deep breath. He's just some guy, she concluded after paying for her chicken baguette. Nothing to stress about.

Harry showered again, while belting out some classic pop tunes. Namely Christina Aguilera and Britney Spears, something that in the past he'd swear blind you'd misheard and it was actually The Rolling Stones or Pink Floyd. But he'd come to terms that he liked what he liked.

Towel clad in the bedroom, trying to shirk off hypothermia, he was quick to put on some pants and jeans, before throwing on some simple white tee proclaiming some fading band name. He uses a dry clean towel from the closet and attempts to dry his hair, as he styles his flopped mop the thought of a haircut crosses his mind. It was getting a bit long.

One last look at the clock and he is ready to leave. "You'll be fine. Trust me." He quietly speaks to himself before closing the last few buttons of his green parka and fixing the newsboy cap on his head.

When he walks out of Colindale tube station, a little earlier than half past five, he sees the bakery from her instructions just below the large modern building Alma was kind enough to describe. She was right; the bakery is right across the street, he waits for the green man to light up to cross, shoving his hands in his pockets. The huge front windows of the establishment allow Harry to see her behind the till, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. She looks better than she did three weeks ago. He hesitates about going in for a few minutes, but feels it ought to be better than to lurk on the street.

Alma can feel his presence the moment he sets foot into the shop, her eyes are drawn to him and a content close lipped smile is the best greeting he could ask from her. The only customer in the place can feel the shift in the atmosphere when they lock eyes. So, picking up her bag full of baked goods, she steps out and leaves them alone.

"Sorry if I'm too early." He begins while she takes off her apron and hangs it in the back wall.

"You're right on time," Alma says after checking her watch, "I'm off Carlos, see you tomorrow!" She hollers to the employee that is taking a non-allowed nap in the back. Harry holds the door open for her and follows out of the warm store. "Shall we take the tube?" At his affirmative response, she then takes out her Oyster card and leads the way.

The café was not somewhere Alma expected Harry to go, the little shop with soothing music and simple stools full of the scent of organic coffee brewing is dazzling and unique. A bit like him, she thinks. She liked it. It reminded her of the places she used to frequent when she had recently moved into the city.

Harry orders a black coffee at the counter before asking Alma what she'd like.

"A cappuccino, and remember I'm paying for our food," she hands him a tenner that he reluctantly takes from her.

"Absolutely," he iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds two salted caramel cupcakes handing over the cash. "If you get a seat, I'll bring it over."

Alma thanks him before scampering across the room to sit at the back two seat table tucked in the corner. It was right beside the large back window, dimly lit. Before she sat, she removed her signature burgundy coat and Harry couldn't help his eyes being drawn to certain aspects of his companion. Nice arse, he remarked with a raise of his brows before the woman behind the counter tells him for the third time that his order is ready, a look of disdain as she probably caught his gaze. Giving her a sheepish smile to appease her, he manages to balance the two plates and mugs in his hands and walk over to the table.

"They asked if you wanted whipped cream or foam and I settled for foam, hope that's not a problem." He plonks himself on the seat across from her, removing his parka in a clumsy manner before hanging it in the back of the chair.

"No problem, I actually despise–

"Whipped cream, yeah, I kind of remembered what you told me about that birthday party of yours," the green eyed lad finishes for her and scratches the back of his neck. "You know with that dare..."

Her eyes flickered down to the cupcakes laid out before them and she started picking the caramel out of one, hoping to hide the nerves his words caused.

"Right enough, yeah... I can't believe you remembered that or that I told you about it." She chuckled nervously at the anecdote she chose to share with him, it was a bit inappropriate due to the amount of vomit around it, literally. But he shrugged with a charming smile. No big deal. "Nice place," she noted.

"I know it's a bit of a strange choice. It doesn't strike me as, you know, the kind of place you put so much effort into for a first date..." Harry stops talking and now his eyes meet the cupcake in front of him. "Bollocks I must have sounded so daft, I'm sorry." Lucky for him, she doesn't laugh, instead she reaches out to stroke his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

"Nothing to be sorry about, I can be quite daft so..."

"I doubt that Miss suave." He gets a laugh out of her then, one that is almost a snort and earns a few glances from other customers.

"I’m far from it! Honestly, I once accidentally stepped on dog shit and didn't notice until my date couldn't bear the stink anymore and checked my shoe, in a very fancy restaurant. Terrible story. Trust me, I can be daft." Alma held up her hands and the musician giggled at her.

"Promise you won't laugh?" he raised an eyebrow at her, pleading. She promised. "Well, I kind of always wanted to have a first date here. It's always one of the first places I visit when I'm back in London, the food is amazing, and service is excellent. Came here completely hung-over after my twenty-first birthday party. I guess it has a lot of good memories." Pinked cheeks gave away Harry's embarrassment, he wanted to relax and for her to be more comfortable around him.

With a sincere smile Alma placed her hand over his resting on the table. "I think that is very sweet." This reply was not what he had expected; she leant in and beckoned him closer. "For your information Harry, this is exactly a great place for a first date." Up close he swore the darkness of her eyes were about to swallow him whole and spit him out to an alternate universe. He swallowed hard and took a sip of his coffee to distract himself a bit. Perhaps caffeine was not a good choice on a day where his heart was speeding so frequently.

"Did you have a good day today at work?" he asks with a familiarity that Alma can get used to.

"Yeah, had a bit of free time to plan my next video blog. It's been ages since I uploaded one." She bashfully admits. "This cupcake was delicious, a great flavour choice." And just like that they fall into easy conversation until their cups are drained. The place is almost empty around quarter to eight and they both know it's almost closing time –the death glances from the employees behind the counter gave it away. They put on their garments again before leaving.

Harry makes his way to the door expecting Alma to follow. Instead she first gathered up their mugs and plates, to place them neatly on the counter and thanked the three workers behind it with a genuine smile. Harry looked surprised; she didn't quite have to do that. She noticed.

"Just being polite," she stated the obvious, before walking under his arm that held open the door. He chose not to comment and fought back a smile.

They stood outside, not really sure of what to do next. Usually he would suggest going back to his place. It was near, but he watched her yawn discreetly and he suddenly remembered that she had a real job, well actually jobs in plural. He broke the silence.

"It was nice to see you again Alma." He meant it and she smiled as she toyed with the buttons of her coat. British summer weather was hardly cold, but today it seemed to be punishingly windy. Harry near gave a shiver, but instead took a deep breath before speaking again. It was now or never. "It'd be quite great, if I could... I'd like to see you again. Please." He shifted on one foot, nearly drowned in the silence that followed.

"I'd quite love to see you again," Harry gave a slight gulp, very slight and got out strength from the words she spoke to take a big risk, the first of today.

He stepped closer and cradled her face in his hands before leaning down and kissing her cheek. It wasn't the full on kiss he wanted to give her. But it is something he'd been dying to do since he first saw her today, something he hoped would make clear how attracted he was to her. Harry smelled like coffee and caramel. God this man's lips are prettier up close, she thought right before he straightened up.

She stayed close to him before speaking again. A low murmur so that the passing London traffic wouldn't steal her words from him.

"This was an amazing date."

Alma walked with him the long distance of one mile to the tube station, their hands brushing against each other. He was desperate to just hold hers, kiss her soft knuckles and ask about the lightning-shaped scar on her little finger. But decided against it, he knew that West Hampstead was not a common area for paparazzi, but he didn't want to risk her. Especially after the splendid afternoon they just shared.

They said their farewells.

"I'll call you," he said again. She warned that he better, before entering the station, he took great delight in watching her walk away from him, his gaze falling once more to her bum now covered by the coat. Harry spun on his heel and walked the short distance to his home.

Surely London could help him find the lyrics for that tune, this city definitely had something.

///

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TAG LIST: @laurxn-robinson​ @mellamolayla​ 

[songsformonkeys]

Quicksand (dave york x reader)

summary: Another Sia song fic for Dave York. This time it’s vaguely inspired by the lyrics to Free The Animal

“You take your chances when you kiss the hitman The animal's inside of this infinite jest Loving you to death, loving you to death The pressure's rising I won't make it through tonight This love immortal is an assassin's delight” 

word count: ~2100

rating: explicit

warnings: None, I think. I assume you’re fairly prepared for what you’re gonna get here.

notes: As always, thanks to my lovely friend and title fairy @yespolkadotkitty​ for betaing, for helping me come up with titles that aren’t shit, for requesting a fic about Dave in camo and for keeping me company in the Dave York Pit. I love you and this story is for you! <3

And also, since I’m clearly not getting over this anytime soon, if there’s anything Dave related you readers want written, let me know and I’ll see what I can do.

Link to AO3

Quicksand

Rain is pouring down outside, the sound of the raindrops hitting the windows echoing through the empty rooms and thankfully drowning out the sound of your soft footfalls against the linoleum floor. The building is old but it's basically just a hollowed-out block of concrete, which also helps to keep the creaking to a minimum and allows you to move silently up the stairs and through one empty room after another.

You reach your goal when you get to the sixth floor. The door to the room is open enough for you to slip through without having to push it open. It's a sloppy mistake and you briefly wonder if it's done on purpose. Then you notice that there's no handle on the door and think maybe that's why.

There's a figure stretched out on the floor in front of an open balcony door. He's lying on a foam sleeping mat, which makes you wonder just how long he's been camped out here. His posture looks perfectly relaxed where he's slightly pushed up on his elbows and looking down the scope of the sniper rifle. He's wearing that damn camo jacket again and you got to admit that it does things to you, seeing the fabric stretch over those broad shoulders.

You stand up on your tippy-toes and look out through the door of the balcony. You can just spot the windows of your apartment over his shoulder. All the lights are out, obviously, since you're here.

”I take it there's been another note sent your way with my name on it?” you say and watch the man on the floor tense up as he hears you speak, ”I swear, you're getting sloppier with each try, David.”

You slowly walk over to him. The only movement he makes is turning his head just a fraction so he can watch you out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't say anything. The tension in the air is thick enough that you could cut it with a knife.

Both of you are ready to strike at a moment’s notice, when you lower yourself onto the floor next to him, mimicking his pose, your elbow brushing against his. Dave lies perfectly still. You can practically see the cogs turning in his head. Him debating whether or not this is the day he will actually finish the job. Your heart is beating at a wild pace, like it always does when he's close, but you refuse to let him see it. This dance the two of you have going is thrilling and Dave is the sweetest drug. But take it too far, and it will surely kill you.

”Quite a setup you've got here,” you say, letting your voice drop a notch lower and you lean just a little closer to his ear to speak. You can practically see the hairs stand up at the back of his neck and you smirk. His jaw is clenched tightly and his lips pursed. You can't quite tell if it's annoyance or something else.

”But David, you know better than to open a balcony door in an abandoned building like this,” you tsk.

He mutters something through clenched teeth which you don't quite catch.

”Sorry, what was that?”

”I said...It's Dave.”

”My bad. Dave”

You let your eyes travel down the length of his body, the curve of his back, his firm ass and thighs in those green pants, then back up to his neck and face. Your muscles are aflame with the need to touch him, to have him touch you, take you. You want to taste those lips again.

And so you do.

It's a marvelously stupid idea, and you know it. You take your chances when you kiss the hitman, know that one of these days he might not reciprocate. His lips feel just as soft as you remember them when they finally connect with yours.

Before you have time to do anything else, Dave strikes like a cobra, knocking you over onto your back and pinning your hands above your head. You hold your breath. But as he leans down to press your lips together again, you accept that this is not the moment when Dave kills you.

”Oh Dave, you animal,” you tease and he glares at you.

”Shut up,” he growls, but his touch is surprisingly soft when he reaches down to begin unbuttoning your shirt. His hand slides under the fabric and into your bra to pinch your nipple. It's a little too rough, definitely on purpose, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close, forcing him to move the hand trapped between you.

You kiss him like you're lost in the desert and he's the last drop of water. You don't know which time is gonna be the last time you get to kiss Dave so each time you're allowed this, you make the most of it. Your tongues tangle together, playfully battling for dominance in a game where there are no losers. Dave moans into your mouth and slides his hand to the back of your head to hold you close.

He pushes your skirt up and slides his leg between yours. You angle yourself so that you're able to grind yourself against his thigh. It shoots sparks of pleasure through you, like you're connected to a live wire, and you grip him tighter, the fabric of his jacket bunched up in your fists. Dave pulls back with a hiss as you accidentally bite his lip on a particularly good roll of your hips.

The floor is freezing against your back and dusty enough that, no doubt, you're gonna be a mess for more than one reason if you get out of here. If you'd known this was gonna be how you ended your night, you wouldn't have worn black to work today.

Dave is hovering above you, watching your face as you rub yourself against him. He's frowning, nothing new there, but his eyes are pitch black with lust. You can't help but let your mouth fall open slightly to make an almost keening noise. It has the intended effect and Dave crashes in to lick the lingering note of the vowel from your mouth.

He climbs over you in a movement that's way smoother than you imagined a maneuver like that could be, especially considering he's still expertly kissing you. For all his rough exterior and manners, the way Dave kisses betrays a softness about him which you're not sure he realizes himself. It's not a kiss that possessively claims. There's no need, since the movements of his lips and tongue makes you want to hand yourself over, mind, body, and soul. You think this makes him more dangerous than the violence and physical strength.

Dave pushes your skirt up even further so he can position himself between your legs. You feel exposed as he spreads your legs further apart and the cold air of the room only adds to the sensation. He fumbles, trying to get hold of the very thin fabric of your nylon pantyhose so he can pull them down. He has little success and while you have no complaints about his fingers dancing over your crotch like this, you want more and you want more now.

”Dave,” you say, to get his attention, ”They literally cost no more than 3 dollars. Do with that information what you will, but do it fast, please!”

Dave stops to look at your face for a moment. The next sound you hear is that of thin fabric tearing before he pulls you up and onto his lap. Your thighs are spread wide on either side of his and when he reaches down and around to run the knuckle of his index finger over the flimsy fabric of your underwear you feel the stretch of your muscles as you attempt to push yourself lower against his hand.

In this position, there's nothing you can do to relieve the pleasure building almost painfully between your thighs. You're at the mercy of Dave's hand. His other arm is wrapped around your back, holding you close enough that your chests touch. Your forehead is pressed against his and his touches have you quivering. You could let him get you off like this. It certainly wouldn't take long. But you are greedy and you want more.

So in a feat of surprising strength, you manage to free yourself from Dave's hold and push him onto his back on the sleeping mat. You think the unexpectedness of it is the only reason you get away with it.

Straddling his hips, you feel his erection strain against the zipper of his pants so you slide just a little lower so you can work the zipper open and pull him out of his underwear. As your fingers curl around the length of his cock, Dave lets his head drop back against the mat with a sigh of relief. You begin to slowly stroke him, watching the involuntary expressions that flitter across his face. These expressions excite you, make you feel like you're seeing the real Dave behind the facade he no doubt keeps when he's on a job. You picture him with a boring and mundane day job, reading a book, or bringing you breakfast in the morning. It's a romantic fantasy that has no place in a setting like this. Dave is a stranger in the night, nothing more. The second you forget that is the second you'll be doomed.

When you finally allow yourself to sink onto Dave's cock, you're so wet that the sound it makes is downright obscene. The stretch is pure bliss. Dave's hands are on your hips and you can feel them shaking from the effort to hold still. You slide your hand under the collar of his camo jacket and dark gray henley, trailing your fingers along his collarbone. Dave shudders at the featherlight touch.

He says your name, and you think maybe it's the first time you've heard him say it out loud. It awakens something inside you and, possessively, you want to hear him say it over and over again.

You begin riding him, slowly at first, but quickly speeding up as the sensation is too addictive, making you want more more more.

”So how else would you do it?” you pant and Dave gives you a confused look. You nod your head towards the forgotten rifle, ”Shooting me was clearly a bust. So what else have you got up your sleeve? You're gonna throw me off the roof? Explode me? Decapitate me? Cut my throat?” You lift your hips and slide back down with each suggestion. Dave's eyes are screwed shut but the hands on your hips are urging you on.

”Or is this the plan?” you ask in a teasing tone of voice, ”Fucking me to death? Squeeze me tight until I draw my last breath?”

Dave doesn't answer. You hadn't expected him to. Beyond telling you to shut up, he usually doesn't go along with your verbal banter. Instead, you have to go by the expression of his face to know whether your comments hit their mark. Right now, though, his face is impossible to read and it scares you a little bit. You ride him faster, to distract you both from whatever thoughts you just planted in his brain.

It works, for you at least, and the pleasure builds and builds the harder you fuck yourself on his cock. Your breaths come in shallow huffs of air, mingled with moans. There's a slight sheen of sweat on Dave's forehead and he's biting his lip, hands still on your hips, urging you on.

When you come, it's his hands that keep you moving through your orgasm. He's close too, you can tell. But when you come down from the high of your release, you lean forward to kiss the tip of his nose before batting his hands away and standing up on shaky legs.

Dave looks completely confused by the whole situation until you shimmy your skirt back down and give him a wide grin. Then realization dawns and his face darkens.

”Thank you,” you say, backing slowly out of the room. ”I promise that when I'm ready to die, I'll let you do the honors. See you next time, Dave York,” you wink and, before he has time to get up, you close the handleless door between you. 

That's gonna give you at least a minute's head start, in case he decides to come after you.

Taglist: @yespolkadotkitty​, @agirllovespasta​, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​, @larakasser​, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​

[mayquita]

Damn You For Making Me  Love You (1/15) - Creep

I can't believe the day is finally here!! I'd like to express my gratitude to the moderators of @captainswanbigbang​ for creating this event and giving us the opportunity to finish and/or rewrite our previous works. It seems I work better under pressure, only in this way am I able to finish my stories, so thanks again for making it possible.

This is a finished and improved version(I hope) of my previous incomplete work. I included everything that appeared in its predecessor, that's why I decided to keep the same name, but I have also made some minor changes and, above all, I added quite a few more scenes, mostly flashbacks, which I hope have served to get to know the characters better and give them more depth.

This story includes 4 different POVs, Killian, Emma, Liam, and Elsa's. I found it interesting to offer the vision of the relationship between Emma and Killian through other people's eyes. It's not an angsty story, in fact, I had a lot of fun writing some scenes, so I hope you enjoy it.

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd​ I couldn't have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you. 

Special mention to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld​, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. 

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma's best friend and Liam, Killian's brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 7800 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Also: Ao3 / FFnet

Here we go... I hope you like it :)

//

Prologue - Creep

 Four years ago...

  What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here.

 The Kraken

The bar was located in a bland building, with nothing of interest to make it stand out except its spot near the marina. Even the sign with the name seemed dull and unwelcoming. Emma couldn’t help wrinkling her nose in disapproval while inspecting the facade of the premises carefully. If someone asked her, she would say that her goal was to gather information about the place where she might be working in the future. If she got the job, that is. The reality was a little different, though. She was simply using an excuse to delay the inevitable, reluctant to take the step that would carry her inside.

It wasn’t that she was a picky person in terms of job opportunities. Even without knowing what she would find inside, she was sure that she had worked in worse places. She had her standards, though, and she hadn’t worked her fingers to the bone to get her degree just to end up working in a damn bar.

"I need the money," she whispered to herself in an attempt to convince herself that she was making the right decision. She was the only one to blame for being in this precarious situation, after all. That's what happens when you run away from the person who broke your heart, leaving almost everything behind. Only one suitcase with a few belongings and her camera accompanied her on her escape.

In spite of everything, she should be grateful to have people around who cared about her, like her friend Elsa, who had welcomed her into her home with no questions and asked for nothing in return. That's why she was here today, in front of this building, because she couldn’t live forever under her friend's wing without having anything to contribute. She needed to feel useful.

I may not even be chosen, she thought.

Before deciding to enter, Emma grabbed her phone and looked for the job ad that had brought her here.

We are looking for new candidates to join our crew to help us refloat our ship before it sinks. If you are a creative, passionate person who likes challenges, this could be your opportunity. We only ask you to have knowledge in advertising and social media. If you are interested, contact our Captain for more information.

It was quite imaginative, she gave them that, with all that naval vocabulary being used in a clear reference to the name of the bar. But it also implied that they, the owners, had resorted to a somewhat desperate measure, probably because they were in a precarious position as well. She was not sure yet if that was something favorable to her interests. Anyway, there was only one way to find out.

After taking a deep breath, she opened the door with more determination than she really felt, hoping that maybe this time she would find the opportunity to start again on the right path.

In retrospect, she could say that the first thing that attracted her attention after entering The Kraken was the male figure located on what looked like an improvised stage, guitar in hand. Love at first sight and all that shit, as her friend Anna would say. Actually, that was the second thing that caught her attention. The first thing her eyes caught was the luminosity that radiated throughout the huge room.

Emma had to blink a few times at the unexpected and intense lighting of the bar, something she had not expected from such a place. She only needed a simple look around to discover the source of the illumination: the two walls in the far corner were adorned with huge, picturesque windows that were allowing the light to come streaming in. Her eyes widened with interest when she discovered a kind of gadget connected to what looked like two white curtains that were drawn back at the time.

  When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

 The melodious voice of the guy in the middle of the stage distracted her momentarily from the inspection; her gaze was immediately drawn towards him. 

She wasn't sure if the guy was deliberately ignoring her presence there or if he was so focused on his task that he hadn't even realized that someone was watching him, but at least that gave her a few seconds to appreciate the vision that appeared in front of her.

There was something hypnotic in the way his nimble fingers slid over the guitar strings and in how he was able to modulate his voice, creating a powerful melody that enveloped her immediately, causing the lyrics of the song to also slip from between her lips in a soft hum.

Maybe it was the unusual lighting of the place, or the nerves that reverberated inside her, or it might be the lyrics of the song that seemed to acquire a new meaning when sung in the voice of the stranger. Whatever it was, Emma felt the air charged with electricity as she approached the stage almost without realizing it, as if she was being attracted by a magnet.

It was then that he subtly moved his head, directing his gaze to her while still singing. Emma could swear that time stopped at that moment, while she also remained frozen in her position unable to look away from the bluest eyes she had seen in her entire life. 

A shiver ran down her spine when the guy sang the next verse as if he was singing directly to her, his intense eyes never abandoning hers.

  You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

 Emma shook her head in an attempt to get out of the trance as she pressed her lips together, holding back the humming. At least with the next verse, she came back to reality, suddenly remembering the reason for her presence there and her previous doubts.

  But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here.

 She certainly didn't seem to belong there, not with a guy too gorgeous for his own good. Although she wasn't even sure if the man worked there; someone like him around implied distractions that she neither needed nor wanted.

He hadn't spoken any words to her, but still managed to make goosebumps rise all over her skin, not only with his impressive voice but with his enigmatic and piercing gaze and his dark hair falling on his forehead. Even his scruff with a shade of ginger was attractive. It was as if the guy had a danger sign over his head, so her instinct pushed her to turn around and run away from there. She would have done it too if it wasn't for the fact that the guy finally decided to stop singing and addressed her directly.

"It's for the sails."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The artifact, the one you were looking at before. It's for hoisting the sails."

What the hell was this guy talking about? The confusion was probably written all over her face because he raised an eyebrow while pointing behind her. Her brow furrowed as she turned her head in that direction. "The curtains are meant to emulate the sails of a ship. You know, naval decor and all that stuff."

He had an accent. Of course, he had an accent. Emma hadn't been able to detect it while he sang but just a handful of words had been enough to show it.

Reluctant to look at him again, her gaze focused on the curtains for a few seconds. It was quite creative, she would concede that. Even now that the curtains were raised, she could imagine the effect it would cause with dimmer lighting. The gears of her brain began to work, looking for the possible potential for that design.

"I thought you would like to know, given your apparent interest."

When she turned again she found a disarming smile and a smug expression on his face. As if that were not enough, he also had the audacity to wink at her. Seriously ? Emma would have stood there paralyzed with her mouth hanging open, unable to process what had just happened had it not been for another voice stealing her attention right at that moment. A voice that was addressing her from behind the bar.

"Hello, lass. What can I do for you?" The man who was speaking offered her a kind smile to which she responded with a timid one of her own as she forced her feet to step away from the stage and head toward the bar. The man looked somewhat older than the musician and, although they shared similar features, his hair was curly and his blue gaze less intense. He also sported a warmer expression, much to her relief.

"Uhm, I'm Emma. Emma Swan. I came for the job interview."

The man's face lit up immediately as his smile widened. "Emma Swan, of course. Nice to meet you." He offered his hand before continuing. "Welcome to The Kraken, lass. I'm Liam Jones, one of the owners and The Captain of this fine vessel." He waved his hand to encompass the entire room and then pointed toward the stage, so Emma had no choice but to look there again. "And that scoundrel up there would be my first mate, also known as my little brother, Killian."

"It's younger," the man, Killian, grumbled, a scowling expression on his face. She heard Liam snort behind her and she was going to turn again to focus her attention on him when Killian softened his features immediately, his lips drawing a bright smile and a special sparkle appeared in his gaze. "Pleasure."

He was trouble, she was aware of it. She didn't need trouble in her life. She was looking for a job, not a hot guy who had the ability to make her feel as if she had melted from the force of his penetrating gaze.

"Well, now that the introductions are made, what do you think if we get to business?" Emma had to suppress a sigh of relief when Liam came to her rescue. Yep, business, that's what she was here for.

After one last look at the stage, she turned back to Liam, but before they had time to start talking, a sound coming from the stage caused a chill to run down her spine. The bastard began to sing again.

  I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special

 The corners of her lips twisted up as the lyrics of the song seeped deep into her, causing a strange sensation to settle in the pit of her stomach.

She ignored that feeling and focused on Liam's warm smile and the cozy decor that surrounded her. She found herself beginning to envision all the possibilities to boost the business, detecting with a simple glance the huge potential that it hid. Kilian might mean danger, but she had dealt with worse. Yes, she definitely might belong there, at least professionally speaking.

 //

Emma Swan - October 2019, present day

The streets of Boston passed before her eyes at full speed, wrapped in the lights and shadows typical of the night in a big city. When the cab stopped at a red light for what seemed like the millionth time, Emma groaned quietly, unable to hide her displeasure. She could feel Elsa's inquiring gaze directed at her, but showing off her stubbornness, she chose to ignore her while she kept her head turned towards the window.

The trip home had become torture. She couldn’t wait to get to her apartment, lock herself in her bedroom, and bury her head under the pillow. But it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. A huff of annoyance escaped between her lips as she cursed inwardly. Damn Irishman! The person who had ruined her night had a proper name. Killian Jones.

At least Elsa, sitting next to her, had the good sense to remain silent. Emma, though, could see from the corner of her eye that her friend kept giving her inquiring glances that also contained a hint of concern. Damn Killian, she repeated to herself as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the seat. 

And to think that the night had started so well, full of expectations... For the first time in what seemed like ages, her boss, Liam Jones, had taken pity on her and Killian and given them the whole weekend off. 

She didn't remember anything like that in the four years she had been working for him. Well, there was that weekend, when the three of them went out of town to do some purchasing, when... Don't go there! She stopped that escalation of thoughts before it was too late. Certainly, the memories of that glorious weekend weren't going to help improve her current mood. Even so, she didn't have enough willpower to stop thinking about what had happened just half an hour before…

 "It will be a quiet night, I'll manage with only Ruby and Robin. The bar can survive for a couple of days without you. Now, guys, go out and have fun," Liam explained to both she and Killian. He used that condescending, patronizing tone of his, as if he were speaking to his own children.

Any other time, they would have reacted the way they usually did when Liam used that tone, rolling their eyes or raising their eyes to the sky praying for patience. On this occasion, though, they were so surprised by the offer that they simply looked at each other with wide eyes and mouths hanging open, as if they didn't quite believe their luck.

That's how she ended up organizing a girls' Friday night with Elsa and her sister Anna, a night she hoped was full of good music, drinks, and great moments with her two friends. 

Everything went well for a while. But then, in a twist of fate, he appeared in the same damn bar they were in. Killian Jones, in all his splendor, with his swagger moves, his devilish grin, and his bright blue eyes with the ability to pierce hearts. 

The problem? He wasn't alone.

Their gazes connected for a brief instant, in spite of the crowd around them. Everything else ceased to exist at that moment, at least until her eyes moved to his left. Killian's left arm was placed around the shoulders of a petite brunette. Belle. His friend. HIS FRIEND. His best friend forever, the one he had grown up with was in the city. With him. Fuck!

Emma knew of Belle's existence, of course. She had met Killian shortly after he had traveled from Ireland with his father and brother after his mother passed away. Belle had been their neighbor, the first person to help them adapt to the differences of a strange country for them. Over time, and after their father abandoned them, the two brothers had moved to a new city in search of new opportunities but they had never lost contact with her.

Although Emma would never acknowledge it out loud, she had always been a bit jealous of Belle; not at a sentimental level, but rather at one related to friendship. Belle was the one who shared the memories of a lifetime with the Jones brothers, while she had to settle for those created during the last four years. They were pretty amazing memories, but not enough, not if she compared them to Belle’s.

She had always managed to hide that irrational jealousy, a fairly easy task considering that Belle didn't even live in the same state. She had always been a distant figure for Emma. 

Until now.

Today she was here with him, and her thoughts began to spiral, gathering in her mind and gradually clouding her mood. 'Why didn’t Killian tell me anything before? Oh! Is that why Liam gave us the weekend off? So that Killian could hang out with Belle? Isn’t she smiling at him too much? Why does he still have his arm around her shoulders?'

Everything went wrong from that moment. He came to where the women were and introduced them to his friend. All Emma managed to hear was how Belle was addressing her, grateful to finally meet her in person, but she barely paid attention. She didn't mind being rude, she’d have time to regret her behavior later. She was busy putting all her efforts into keeping her face straight enough to hide her inner agitation. He, on the other hand, also acted strangely as he met them, glancing around absently, shifting his weight from foot to foot, hand scratching the back of his ear.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, Emma just left the bar, alluding that she was tired, with Elsa following on her heels without saying a word while Anna remained there, chatting with Belle and Killian. 

Fuck, Fuck! Why on earth had he ended up in the same bar as her? As if there wasn’t an endless amount of bars in the damn city.

 Emma came back to reality when she realized that the cab had finally stopped in front of her building. She didn’t even bother to pay, she left the vehicle quickly, thinking that perhaps, if she hurried enough, she could reach her bedroom and lock herself in there, thus preventing Elsa's interrogation.

Luck was not on her side tonight, of course. She lost precious minutes trying to find the keys inside her purse, as a series of curses escaped her mouth. “Where are my damn keys?" she muttered in frustration.

It was then that Emma remembered she had left her keys forgotten inside the apartment, something that didn’t concern her at all at first since Elsa accompanied her. She groaned, smacking her forehead slightly against the door. 

How could she be so stupid?

"Were you looking for these?" Elsa arrived at that moment, her hand held up holding her keys and an inquisitive look on her face.

A sigh of resignation escaped her mouth as she stepped aside, allowing Elsa to finally open the door, the possibilities of locking herself in her bedroom without having to give any explanation completely vanished.

Still, she was reluctant to confess. If she had managed to keep the secret of her feelings for... an eternity, why should she give any explanation now? Maybe if she dropped herself on the couch and pretended to fall asleep…

In fact, that was the first thing she did as soon as she entered the apartment and removed her heels. She collapsed on the sofa, covering her face with her right arm.

"Okay, enough. I thought the ride home would calm you down, but it seems like it's not like that, so tell me, what's going on, Emma?" Elsa's soft voice reached her ears but she did not respond at first, remaining in stubborn silence.

Elsa sighed and for a moment Emma thought she would let things be. She was wrong, of course. "Since the night has been ruined, I have a few hours to go, so I'm going to sit right here, right in front of you, and I'll wait for you to stop behaving like a child. I'm an older sister, remember. I know all the tricks."

Emma moaned inwardly, finally giving up and sitting down. "It's nothing, I was just tired,” she mumbled, avoiding her friend's gaze.

"Tired..." Elsa cocked her head slightly as she narrowed her eyes. "You know I'm not buying it, right? Come on, Emma, I know you always keep to yourself how you feel, but I also know this never ends well. So tell me, what's wrong?"

What’s wrong? That's what I want to know, she thought. She wasn’t able —or more like she didn’t want to — put a label on her feelings, at least out loud. Killian was her best friend, for the love of God. Since both of them worked in the same place, they spent most of the time together, either in the bar or in either one’s apartment, or having dinner with Liam... But this situation had caught her off guard and it had served to realize that perhaps she wasn’t going to keep Killian for herself forever. A groan escaped her mouth at the thought of that, though she sealed her lips hastily, unwilling to voice aloud how she felt.

Elsa looked at her expectantly for a few seconds, but seeing that Emma was remaining silent, she sighed again showing her frustration. However, she didn’t give up, much to Emma’s dismay. "Okay, you're not going to talk, so I'll have to figure it out for myself." Her eyes narrowed and her brow wrinkled in thought. "The night was going well, we were having fun, we had just got our drinks..."

Don’t go that way…

"Then we met Killian. We were talking for a while..."

Don’t.

Her eyes widened when she finally realized. "Oh my God! This was all about Killian! But why? Did he say something that bothered you or..."

No, no, go back, go back.

"He wasn't alone... he wasn't alone! This is because of Belle!" 

Emma moaned in response, putting her hands on her face.

"Emma..." Her voice softened. "You kept telling me Killian was just a friend, a very close friend, okay, but nothing more."

"It's the truth," she replied, not proud of the unconvincing tone of her voice.

"But you feel something more for him, don’t you?" Elsa insisted in a gentle but firm voice. Emma didn't even bother to answer this time. Her friend took her silence as an admission as she continued on that path. "Since when?"

Since when? Since ever? Since she entered The Kraken for the first time to do a job interview four years ago. Since the first thing she saw when she entered the bar was the hottest man she had ever met playing the guitar and singing. Since she met the deep ocean of his gaze as he continued singing as if he did it just for her... Oh, God ... "For a while," she mumbled.

"For a while," Elsa echoed her words. "You're telling me you've had feelings for Killian for some time, and you're not gonna do anything about it?"

"That’s exactly what I’m saying."

"Oh, Emma, you know that at some point you'll have to open your heart again, right? We're talking about Killian; not all men are like Neal or Walsh.” 

The mere mention of their names caused her to flinch, another sign of how broken her heart was still due to those two assholes. As if feeling her discomfort, Elsa approached and sat down beside her, taking her hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I don’t want to risk losing what I have with Killian." The connection she felt with him went far beyond physical attraction. It was something difficult to explain in words, but that connection caused endless sensations swirling inside her. She didn't want those feelings to ever end. "I would rather keep him as a friend than lose him forever." 

"But this is affecting you, Emma. Just look at your reaction from tonight. By the way, how could you be jealous of Belle? Besides, he's surrounded by girls all the time, flirting and flattering them. You witness that every day."

"It's not the same," Emma replied in a weak voice, feeling an incipient headache approaching. How could she explain how she felt? "At the end of the day, that's just a role. He doesn’t hook up any of those girls, hasn’t for quite some time anyway. We just close the bar and go home. But today... " She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "It's not just for his friend.” Although she couldn’t deny that for a moment Belle had been a threat. Once again, the feeling of not being enough had made an appearance. “Before he approached us, he looked happy and carefree. He not only had Belle by his side, but he could also have been able to get any of the girls from the bar."

"Maybe he would have chosen you..."

"No." She shook her head firmly. "It's... I didn’t expect to see him there, even less to see him accompanied by a woman, but everything is going to return to normal. It's the best thing for us.” She tried to convince herself, stubbornly ignoring Elsa's hopeful gaze. She wasn’t going to risk their friendship... 

Damn it! She was so fucked up.

//

Killian Jones - October 2019, present day

What a weird night!

Not only the night, actually. A strange sensation had accompanied him throughout the day. It was as if, after his brother had given them the whole weekend off, he didn't know what to do with that unexpected free time, apart from lying on the couch with Netflix as his only companion. Especially when he couldn't count on Emma as a source of entertainment either since she had decided to spend a girls' night with her friends.

But in a matter of minutes, everything had taken an unexpected turn. His childhood friend, Belle, had called by surprise for a brief visit. She would be in the city for less than a day, but had the afternoon off, so Killian quickly formulated an improvised plan.

That's how he'd ended up in the same bloody bar Emma had come to. Seriously, what were the odds? Of course, he blamed himself for having flatly refused to take Belle to The Kraken. — It's my free night, love. The last thing I want is to spend the evening in the same place as always. I know you want to see Liam, but he will be with you at the airport tomorrow .—

"Killian? Are you sure you're okay?"

Belle’s voice, coming from beside him, took him out of his reverie. He cleared his throat before answering. "Sure, love, just tired." He felt Belle's gaze scrutinizing him, but she just nodded without adding anything else.

They continued walking in silence, his hands in the pockets of his jeans and Belle's arm hanging from the hollow formed by his arm. It was a warm night, despite being in early October, so they had decided to walk back to the hotel where Belle was staying.

For a few minutes, he tried to focus on anything, the weather, Belle, the sounds of the street, but all his thoughts invariably ended up with one name that night. Emma Swan. So, despite the momentary interruption, his mind bent to remind him again and again of the situation he had lived merely an hour earlier.

 The choice of the bar had been totally random. It turned out to be the closest to the hotel where Belle was staying. But luck wasn’t on his side that night, or maybe it was because, within minutes of entering the bloody bar, a vision appeared before his eyes. A vision that was becoming his downfall. Emma Swan.

The person he had been secretly in love with for four years was right in front of his eyes. 

It was a pleasant surprise since he was so used to seeing her every day that, although he could not be happier to have a free Friday night, the possibility of not seeing Emma for a whole day was not so appealing.

At least he had been lucky enough to notice Emma before she realized his presence there, which implied that he would be able to put into practice one of his favorite hobbies, observe Emma while she wasn't looking.

No, he wasn't a stalker, but he enjoyed those little moments, such as seeing Emma with a wrinkle of concentration across her brow as she edited photographs, sitting in her favorite corner of the bar. Or watching how she got into the role of a tough lass when one of the customers tried to go too far with her. He also enjoyed hearing how she hummed his songs when she believed he was not listening. Or watching as she slept, unable to stay awake on one of their Netflix nights. 

He treasured those little moments as something precious, something that made Emma more real, but that at the same time served as a reminder that those moments were the most he was going to get from her. She was seemingly unreachable.

What he saw at that moment took his breath away. She was impressive that night. Not only did she look sexier than ever, but her eyes glowed in a special way, and her carefree smile did nothing to placate his agitation. When their gazes finally met through the crowd, it was as if everything else ceased to exist. At least for a few seconds. 

He then approached her and the spell broke.

The smile faded from her lips the moment he met her and introduced her to Belle. From there she began to act quite strangely, avoiding his glance, answering with monosyllables, becoming even a little rude to Belle. Why did she act like that? Was it because of him? They had talked in the morning and everything was normal. What was it then?

A feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach, something unusual in reference to Emma. His relationship with her had always been easy; they shared such a special connection. Unfortunately, that connection didn’t help him tonight, because he not only seemed unable to understand her strange attitude, but he himself began to act strangely.

After the first few minutes of awkward conversation, an idea began to settle in his head. Emma might feel uncomfortable about his unexpected appearance because she was looking for something different that night. Maybe a one-night stand... The mere idea made him feel sick to his stomach. When was the last time she...? No, he didn't even want to remember it.

For his luck or misfortune, Emma excused herself after only a few minutes, alluding to the fact that she was tired and saying goodbye with just a nod. Elsa, her friend, followed her, not before giving both him and her sister an apologetic look. 

Anna stayed with them for a few more minutes, but then she also left with the excuse that she was going to meet her boyfriend Kristoff in a nearby bar now that the girls’ night had been ruined. In a matter of a few minutes, he found himself alone again with Belle and with the endless troubled thoughts that had begun to gather in his head.

 “Killian?”

Belle's voice brought him back to reality again, noticing then that they had just reached the hotel entrance. Killian scratched behind his ear, casting an apologetic glance towards his friend. "My apologies, love. I got a bit distracted."

"Oh, I can see that." Belle crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head slightly, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Now, are you going to tell me what's happening?"

Killian swallowed, averting his gaze and directing it toward his feet. His feelings for Emma were something only he knew and he had every intention of keeping that fact hidden. That made things easier. "I don’t know what you're talking about, love," he mumbled, keeping his gaze on his feet.

“Oh, please.” He didn't even need to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. “You've been acting strange from the very moment we met Emma. It was an awkward moment there at the bar, not just for you, but for her as well.”

"Ah, about that. I apologize on her behalf. Emma ..." Why was it suddenly difficult for him to even pronounce her name? He let out a deep exhale while rubbing his eyes before turning his gaze back to Belle. "She doesn’t act that way normally."

"You don't need to apologize." Belle stared at him for a few seconds before continuing. "She's not just a friend anymore, is she?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about, love." He plastered a fake smile on his face before continuing. "Emma is my friend, that's all." He was not lying actually. They were just friends, though all the fibers of his being craved for something else.

Belle held his gaze for a few seconds longer, as if she wanted to go through his armor and reach his secrets. Finally, she sighed, giving up. "Whatever you say, but you should talk to her at some point. There was a weird tension there. Whatever it is, you should fix it." She raised her index finger in warning.

"It's Liam's fault. He makes us work so hard that when we find ourselves with so much unexpected free time, we don’t know how to act. We’re not used to it." Killian tried to lighten the mood with an ingenious comment that would divert attention.

"Oh, of course, blame your brother. He's such a slaver." She rolled her eyes again as she let out a snort. But then her gaze softened, her hand caressing his arm gently. "You know it's time to move on, right?"

A lump in his throat kept him from speaking for a few seconds. He nodded, the corners of his lips pulled up in a small smile. If only she knew that he had already decided to move on for some time... But the fear of losing Emma had him paralyzed. He was unable to consider taking their relationship a step further. At least not until Emma was ready. And as it was currently with their situation, that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. But he preferred to have what they shared now than to have absolutely nothing.

"Talk to her, or to your brother," she asked, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Have a safe flight, Belle. We’ll talk soon."

After saying goodbye to his friend with the promise of seeing her soon, Killian was reluctant to go home. The image of Emma in that ethereal dress and that dazzling smile didn’t stop tormenting him. The fact that her smile had turned into almost a grimace when she noticed him didn’t allow him to think of anything else. 

The restlessness and confusion that he felt, far from appeasing him, had settled in his stomach. He had to do something to distract his mind. That's how he ended up at The Kraken, with the full intention that music and rum would cloud his senses enough to get Emma out of his system, at least for a while.

Liam noticed him the moment he entered through The Kraken's door despite the crowd, showing off his sixth sense towards him. Fortunately, he was serving some other customers, so Killian was spared the inquisitive glances of his brother. 

He chose the bar area farthest from Liam and collapsed on one of the stools. He would have preferred if one of the two new bartenders were to serve him; they would have treated him as one more customer. But it was Robin, one of their oldest bartenders, the one in charge of that section of the bar, so he had no choice but to resign himself while waving his hand to get his attention.

"You look like shit, mate," Robin said while putting a shot of rum in front of him. At least he didn't need to even bother talking, his friend already knew his favorite poison. "And what the hell are you doing here on your night off?"

"Missed me?" he wiggled his eyebrows before schooling his features so as not to betray his inner turmoil.

"Actually I miss Emma, she's much nicer than you."

The fake smile faded from his face at the mere mention of her name. Luckily for him, Fridays were a busy night at The Kraken, so Robin’s attention was required by another customer, leaving him finally alone with his thoughts and his rum.

He brought the glass to his lips, letting the amber liquid slide down his throat, feeling the pleasant burn on its way to his stomach. Only when alcohol entered his system did he feel the courage to take the phone out of his pocket. He wondered if it would be a good idea to contact Emma, his fingers sliding across the screen without ever pressing Emma's name. After a moment of hesitation, he finally decided. He couldn’t leave things like this.

  Did I do something tonight to bother you? - KJ

Emma answered instantly, to his pleasant surprise.

Hey! No more than usual. ;p Why do you ask? - ES

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth, not just by her words but by the inclusion of that emoji. It was amazing how two simple characters could conceal so much meaning.

You acted strange tonight - KJ

No more than you... I was just tired - ES

Aye, me too - KJ

By the way, I'd like to apologize to Belle. I acted like an asshole to her. - ES

Nah, it's okay. Are you sure you're fine? - KJ

Promise. And you? - ES

I'm fine too. Ah! You looked stunning tonight, love. - KJ

You were not so bad yourself :) - ES

Any plans for tomorrow? - KJ

Pizza and Netflix? - ES

My apartment or yours? - KJ

Yours. Since Liam will be working, we'll be able to choose freely. - ES

Smart lass. Night Swan. - KJ

Night Killian - ES

 A sigh of relief escaped between his lips as he felt a weight removed from him, his lips pulling at a smile as he continued to stare at the screen.

"What are you doing here?" Killian looked up from the phone to find Liam, arms folded across his chest and a scrutinizing look on his face. "I seem to remember that I gave you the night off."

Killian grabbed his glass and raised his hand to Liam as if to toast. He took a sip of the drink before answering. "I'm here as a customer, brother."

At that moment, Liam reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. Killian watched as his brother's brow furrowed as he stared at the screen. He also detected Liam's eyes briefly straying to look slyly at him. A strange sensation washed over him as he stirred uncomfortably in his seat. This couldn’t be good.

Liam carefully placed the phone on the counter and folded his arms over his chest again. "So... what's wrong with Emma?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" His heart tightened into knots as his gaze drifted to Liam's phone. Little traitor. .. he thought. What the hell was he thinking when he decided it was a good idea to come to the bloody bar?

"Enlighten me, little brother."

Killian loved his brother, but he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, pressing all his weak points until he ended up pissing him off. This time his tolerance level was so low that he only needed a little spark to light the wick of his anger.

He clenched his jaw as he felt a growing rage running through his veins, urging him to act. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian glanced at his brother's phone one last time, and in a swift, fluid movement that left no chance of a reaction from Liam, he seized the device.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise at his brother's maneuver, but then he reacted, grunting as he tried to reach for the phone. "Give me my bloody phone, Killian!"

"Ah, ah!" Killian moved away from the bar, enough so that his brother couldn’t reach him and without further delay read the contents of the last message received.

Hey, Liam! We missed you this evening. I met Emma, at last. But I think something happened between her and Killian. Ask him, it seems that our "bro" has something to tell us. See you tomorrow. - Belle

"Bloody hell." The words slipped out of Killian's mouth without him doing anything to stop it. "She's such a traitorous lass," he hissed, the urge to throw the phone against the nearest wall almost uncontrollable.

Bloody hell... he repeated, this time to himself. He began to feel like a fish out of water, desperately in need of air. Killian had for so long hidden his feelings in front of his brother that he found it extremely difficult to expose them now; especially because he was fully aware that Liam would be excited at first for him, but then he’d feel as if someone threw a jug of cold water on him when he discovered that, whatever Killian felt towards Emma Swan, nothing was going to change their relationship.

Killian returned slowly to his seat, placing Liam's phone on the counter again. He gestured to the bartender on the other side of the bar to get another drink; the idea of confessing his feelings with more alcohol running through his system seemed more appropriate under the circumstances.

"You know it's rude to read private messages from someone else," Liam said to him in that calm, characteristic tone of his, one that was hiding a condescending hue that annoyed Killian enormously.

"Not if that damn message speaks about oneself," he mumbled. Killian didn't care at that moment if he behaved like a rebel teenager in front of his father.

"Have you argued with Emma? What is it this time? Netflix, the choice of dinner?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop treating us like children. I'm not your son and Emma is obviously not your daughter."

"Then act like an adult and tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing. We met Emma in a bar. I don’t know what Belle was talking about."

"Okay." Liam grabbed his phone and began to slide his fingers across the screen.

A sensation of panic settled in the pit of his stomach. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Emma, of course."

"Don't you dare, brother," he hissed, casting a murderous glare at Liam as he again regretted coming here. What on earth was I thinking?

Liam seemed to think better of it because, after staring at him for a few seconds, he sighed and put the phone back on the counter. He then changed his attitude, softening his features as he addressed Killian. "Listen, it's obvious that something is happening. You know I care a lot about Emma. I just need you to tell me if everything's okay with her, brother."

Seeing his brother's face full of sincere concern stirred something inside Killian so, without even stopping to think of what he was doing, he confessed, kind of.

"It's nothing, really. We met her unexpectedly. For some reason, she started acting in an offhand way when she saw us and after a few minutes, she just left. But I texted her a few minutes ago and everything was fine." After a pause, he continued almost without being aware of what he was about to say. "I thought at first that my presence might have bothered her, in case I might be interfering in some way, preventing some guy from approaching her, but it seems she was just tired."

Liam's features changed subtly, as if a flash of realization crossed his face. His eyes widened slightly as one eyebrow rose slightly. "And that would have been a problem for you?"

Killian closed his eyes as he sighed. After two deep breaths, he set out to confess for the first time in four years. "Aye, it would."

Liam's eyes widened even more as a smile began to appear on his face, a smile in which his brother was depositing his relief and his hopes. Something that, unfortunately, Killian would have to cut.

"Before you start to get your hopes up. Yes, I have feelings for Emma. No, I do not think she feels the same, or at least I don’t think she's ready yet to open her heart. So nothing is going to change between us. Emma is my friend and so it will remain until she decides otherwise."

"Does Emma know?"

"About my feelings? Of course not."

After the initial impact of the confession, Liam seemed to react. He shook his head and brushed his eyes with one hand. "How could I know nothing? I mean, I know you care about her, and that you two are very good friends, but how did you manage to hide your feelings from me? I spend most of the damn time with you two!"

Killian ignored him, suddenly exhausted after the events of the day. But before he went home, he had to make sure of something. "Promise me you won’t tell Emma anything."

"Killian..."

"No, just promise me. Let me do this my way."

With a sigh, Liam agreed. "Okay, but promise me something in return. Promise me you'll be careful, okay? You finally have a chance to be happy, brother. Do not miss it, please. And don't hurt her."

The corners of his lips rose slightly at Liam's words. It was no secret that his brother adored Emma in a fraternal sense and that he cared for her almost as much as himself. He couldn't be more grateful that she had such a support group around her.

"Believe me, Liam, that would be the last of my intentions."

His initial idea when he arrived at the bar was to wait for his brother until closing time came and then return home together. But after what happened, he changed his mind. His only desire was to lock himself in his bedroom, bury his head under the pillow, and try to sleep with the vain idea that Emma's image wouldn’t appear in his dreams to torment him.

After finishing his drink, he murmured "I'll see you at home" to his brother while he waved and left the premises.

His walk home meant being alone with his thoughts. Far from vanishing, Emma's vision became even more powerful, filling all his thoughts. His mind was determined to remind him of the image of Emma in that damn dress that molded to all her curves and that neckline that hinted at what was forbidden to him. His body started to react, liquid heat heading straight south. By the time he got home, his pants were tight, a series of curses escaping from his mouth. He was helpless.

Killian reached his bedroom and undressed without bothering to put on his pajamas. He collapsed in bed, the need for release was almost painful so he had no choice but to take care of himself. As the strokes increased in pressure and speed, Emma's image became more real in his mind; her pink lips silently begging to be kissed, her defiant glance, her perfect body. His release came at last as he pronounced her name between pants, imagining that Emma was the one with her hand around his length. Bloody hell... 

He was so fucked up.

//

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

What to expect in the next chapter? We'll have another flashback of Emma's early months at the bar and we'll also see Liam's first attempt to push them together.

[scarlettwitcher]

You’re Mine Omega Chapter One

Summary: Jensen had everything he wanted in life except the one thing he needed: his omega. After a fateful encounter, Jensen has to make a life changing decision for himself, his omega, and his wife.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Danneel Ackles, Reader, brief mention of other cast members and Cliff

Word Count: 2732

Warnings: Lots and lots of angst, growling(?), mentions of ruts and heats

Author’s Note: It’s finally here everyone! I’m finally going to release the first chapter of YMO. It’s going to be a relatively small series buuut the chapters will be long AF. I really do encourage lots and lots of feedback since I am starting to doubt my writing, cause self deprecation. If you’d like to be added to any tag list, including forevers, please let me know. And as always, Thanks for reading babes!

Carry on my wayward son

There’ll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don’t you cry no more!

“You’re missing the finale! Get your ass in here before I drag you by your hair!” You couldn’t believe your roommate was missing the intro. You popped a handful of popcorn into your mouth as you felt your heart beat faster after every lyric. You couldn’t help the small whines that left your mouth every time you saw his emerald eyes on the screen. You wouldn’t ever admit it but you were enamored with the big Alpha that appeared on one of your favorite shows. You didn’t know what attracted you so much to him but you knew you felt the pull. You couldn’t even bring it up to your roommate as you knew she would make fun of you but she knew and it was a silent rule to never bring it up. It was strange for Omega’s of your age to be unmated but then again, you were 23 and not getting any younger. Your roommate appeared a few minutes later and plopped down next to you on the couch as you both watched the finale of Supernatural together.

*~*

“Jensen!” Jensen was on the side talking to the director when Jared walked in, calling him out. 

“Yeah, Jare? What’s up?” Jensen made his way over to Jared who was stuffing his face at the snack table. “Hey! So I’m going to the airport in an hour. You’re coming with me right?”

“Oh yeah… Hiatus. I forgot. Yeah, I’ll join you. I have the tickets.” Jared nodded as he took a second to finish eating before talking. 

“Good. I’m sure both wives will be excited. I’ve been dying to get back to my Omega. Her heat will hit soon and I want to be home to take care of her.” Jensen gave Jared a tight smile as he thought about home. Danneel wasn’t his Omega, she wasn’t even an omega. After searching for his Omega for so long, he knew if he didn’t settle down, he’d become feral. He met Danneel, a sweet beta, and settled down. Jensen knew she wasn’t his true mate but they both knew that going in and always knew, that if the opportunity ever came and Jensen met his true Omega, he’d be free to pursue her, at least, that’s what they agreed on years ago. 

“Yeah.. Yeah man I get it. Take care of your girl.” Jared sighed as he watched his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder, concern etched on his features. “You’re close to your rut, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…and every time, it gets harder.” Jensen let out a sigh as he looked at Jared with somber eyes. “Every time they hit, I feel it. I’m starting to lose control. As much as I love Danneel, she’s- it’s not enough.” Jensen dragged a hand down his face as he placed both hands on his hips as he stared at the floor. “It’s taking a toll on both of us. I’ve been thinking of ending things, just accept my fate." 

"Don’t talk like that. Look, I think you just need a few days off, take a break from work. Go home and enjoy yourself as much as you can. We have a convention next week. You always love going to those. Seeing the fans, the hotels, the panels, even the photo ops bring a huge smile to your face. I’ll let the crew know you’re close to your rut, in case it hits during the convention, so we can take the precautions. I’ll see you in a bit man.” Jared gave Jensen a reassuring smile as he now had both his arms on his shoulders, before pulling him into a bro hug. Jensen nodded as he let out a shaky breath. After saying their goodbyes, Jensen walked over to his trailer and packed his few belongings, purposely taking his time, knowing he really didn’t want to be home. The guilt started to creep up into his head, knowing Danneel deserved so much better than what he was giving.

A week after arriving home, Jensen couldn’t help feeling distant towards his wife. It wasn’t her fault but he couldn’t bring himself to even touch her. He knew he was hurting her but he just couldn’t. Jensen had his moments every time his ruts hit. He wanted to be away from everyone. But knowing that this was the first convention of the tour they were doing, he just couldn’t miss it. Of course, they’d go easy on him considering his state. Danneel tried to offer to help him through it but she knew it only fell on deaf ears. The day before he had to leave for his flight, Jensen waited by the door, Cliff on his way to pick him up to take him to the airport. He had his bags ready since the beginning of the week which was when he had arrived from Vancouver. Waiting by his door and checking his phone two or three times every minute, Danneel approached him to say goodbye. “I know you’re going to be gone for a few weeks and then go back to filming but… Do you think they could give you a few days off? Be home for a bit? I feel like we really haven’t had much time together. We can plan a small getaway… Go to our cabin even? I miss you.” Danneel caught herself whispering the last part, knowing her husband was now slipping through her fingers. She bit her lip as she slowly inched closer, resting her hand softly on Jensen’s bicep.

He instantly tensed at her touch and couldn’t bring himself to relax as he clenched his jaw. He took a deep breath, looking at her hand on his arm, before looking at her. He had heard the last part and felt his resolve lessen more and more. He couldn’t take all the guilt swirling through his body, knowing he was making her suffer. He knew what he had to do but he didn’t have the strength to do it. Jensen sighed softly as he nodded, and swallowed thickly before speaking. “I’ll see what I can do.” Danneel looked a tad bit hopeful as she nodded softly, taking what he gave her, before pulling her hand away and wrapping it around herself. She heard the distinct honk of a car and knew Jensen had to leave. She watched him grab his bag and open the door. He sighed and stopped halfway out the door as he looked at her. Jensen was starting to look how he felt. Dark eyes, uneven scruff, sad eyes. Danneel felt a pang in her chest, knowing why he looked so defeated but didn’t dare utter a word about it. It had caused countless fights in the past and that was the last thing anyone needed. Jensen licked his lips, his mind racing with all the words he wanted to say, the words he needed to say, but after careful thought, he only said what he knew she needed to hear. “I’m sorry.. for everything. I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself.” With that, Jensen nodded softly and left closing the door behind him. It was going to be a long weekend for him.

*~*

You couldn’t stop the bright smile that appeared on your face as soon as your eyes fluttered open. It was the day of your first big convention and the excitement was bubbling all over your body. You’d finally meet your hunter heroes. You jumped out of bed and ran into the shower, giddy from your head to your toes. You made sure to scrub extra hard, shave, and even exfoliate which you never, ever did but it was a special occasion. Once you were done in the shower, you made your way to your room, making sure you had your small luggage packed. Even though the convention was happening in your city, you and Emily were going to stay in the hotel where the convention was held. You worked so much overtime to be able to even afford a room for a few days but it was completely worth it. Once you were dry, you dropped your towel to the side and slid into your lucky underwear. You sat at your vanity as you stared at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds. You patted your cheeks gently as you felt the anxiety start to creep in. You willed it away and narrowed your eyes at your reflection before pointing at your mirrored self. “Look girly, today we are going to meet the guys. Today we are not going to panic. Today we are going to look hot as fuck for our pictures.” You smiled wide and nodded, feeling enlightened with your pep talk. Making quick work, you dried your hair and curled it into loose waves and did your makeup simple enough to highlight your eyes and lips. Then you quickly changed into your favorite jeans which made your ass look great, a simple black halter top, that would hang just an inch over your jeans and your back exposed nicely, and your favorite pair of sandals. You bit your lip as you stared at yourself in the mirror and smiled, feeling confident in your look. 

Grabbing your luggage and bag, you walked to your door where Emily was waiting. Once you checked you had all the passes and the tickets, you both grabbed your things, piling into your car and driving over to the hotel. Checking in and going to the room, you finished setting up before making your way back down to the convention area. You looked around in awe as everyone was walking around, looking at all of the stands and signs. It was everything you’d imagined. You loved watching all of the cosplays, stopping a few people here and there, taking pictures. Once a few hours had passed, you realized you had your first pictures of the day and decided to make your way to the line. Emily wanted to finish looking around and promised to keep in touch. You finally found the line and saw it was starting to build up, and moved quickly, securing a spot with around 20 people in front of you. 

Jensen had arrived at the hotel that morning, checking in. Once in his room, he let his body collapse into the bed, groaning out. It had been a long flight and the night before with Danneel was causing a lot of grief on himself. Knowing today wasn’t about him, he got up and made sure to prep himself for the day. He evened out his beard and took a cold shower, feeling his skin starting to rise just a tad bit in temperature. Once he was ready, he met up with Jared in his room before both of them made their way down to the conference room where the convention was being held.

“Okay, so we have photo ops first thing and then a panel. Since it’s Friday, it’s a pretty chill day today. Take it easy on yourself.” Jensen nodded as he only listened, not trusting himself to speak. The handlers guided both of the men to the areas where they were needed and prepared for the first objective of the day: photo ops. 

Before you knew it, the line started to move. You were too nervous. You knew the pose you wanted for the photo and you knew you looked good. What was making your stomach do thousands of flips was the idea of actually meeting the man that plagued your thoughts most days. The idea of touching him, holding him, smelling him was enough to make you have to fan yourself with the papers you’d gathered from the convention. You swallowed thickly but tried your best to calm yourself, knowing you couldn’t lose your cool. Being so into your head, you finally came back to reality and realized that you were in fact next. You took a few deep breaths, calming yourself enough to get through meeting them. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the handlers came forward and signaled you in. Passing through a few curtains, you finally entered the room. You bit your lip seeing Jensen and Jared near the corner of the room, both with their backs to you. One of the handlers approached them, letting them know you were there. Jared nodded and turned towards you with a wide smile. “Hey there! It’s nice to meet you!”

You let out a small nervous giggle as you nodded to the giant man. “I-it’s nice to meet you too. This is, uh, this is my first time at one of these. It’s exciting.” Jared laughed and nodded as he hugged you, leaving an arm on your shoulder. “Yeah, they can be. What’s your name?" 

"It’s Y/n." 

“Well Y/n, this is Jensen.” Jared signaled for Jensen to speak, as the man was too concentrated on looking at the floor. The man took a deep breath and took a step forward with his arm outstretched like he was going to shake your hand before slowly raising his eyes to yours. It was like time stood still. Everyone and everything around you disappeared. His breath hitched in his throat as he felt it. He felt it. Every worry, every pain that he had was gone. All that mattered at that moment was you. You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt it too. Every instinct and every part of you screamed to run into his arms and kiss him until you suffocated. But then you felt it start to boil in your lower belly. You had only known about true mates from the countless stories your mother told you as a child. That you believed them was a different story. But now, you couldn’t deny that every word your mother spoke was true. You had found your true mate and it wasn’t long until you’d go into heat. Jensen could smell it before it even began. He could smell you. Your scent was getting stronger by the second and it was now going to push him into a rut. He couldn’t stop himself. He took a step towards you and another until he was towering over you.

Jensen was now taking heavy breaths as his eyes scanned over your face wildly as if he’d look away, you’d disappear. He reached a tentative hand up towards your cheek and the moment his hand touched your skin, burst of sparks courses both your body and his. You closed your eyes tightly and leaned into his touch. Jensen would give anything to watch you seek out his touch. Before he could stop himself, he heard himself utter the word that he had on the tip of his tongue since the moment he laid eyes on you. "Omega." 

Jared watched on from the back, confused as everyone watched Jensen. Nobody dared to say a thing, but Jared knew what was happening. The way Jensen touched you, spoke to you, looked at you. It was obvious to everyone around you both. Before he could take a step forward to hopefully alleviate the awkward situation, he watched you crumble forward as you cried out in pain. You didn’t expect for the cramps to hit you so quick and hard as your heat started to overtake your body. You fell into Jensen’s arms as he held you protectively against him. Jared had to react fast to get the situation under control. He took a few steps towards the couple as he held his hands up almost in surrender. "Woah Y/n are you o-” Jared jumped back as Jensen was now growling at him, baring his teeth at Jared. Jensen growled at everyone who even tried to get near you. Everyone watched in shock as Jensen held you possessively as you cried from the cramps. Losing control of you will, you grabbed onto Jensen’s shirt tightly, willing his attention to you as you cried softly. “It hurts. H-help me please… Alpha.” The moment the title left your lips, Jensen had you in his arms, running out of the room, leaving everyone dumbfounded, wondering what the hell just happened.

*~*

Forever Tags: @iwantthedean​ @authoressskr​ @sorenmarie87​ @reigningqueenofwords​ @goldenolaf25​ @giftofdreams​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @chelsea072498​ @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian​ @itakeawfultoawholenewlevel​ @fictionalabyss​ @gabby913​ @angelkurenai​ @sea040561​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @carryonmyswansong​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @evyiione​ @supersassyprobablysad​ @sofreddie​ @sis-tafics​ @nitelotus​ @trexrambling​ @dancingalone21​ @manawhaat​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @winchest09​ @ellen-reincarnated1967​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @just-another-busy-fangirl​ @lovebodymindstuff​ @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​ @chook007​ @akshi8278​ @evansrogerskitten​ @bringmesomepie56​ 

You’re Mine Omega Tags: @janicho88​ @gryffindorqueensworld​ @spnfamily-thewinchesters​ @shamelesslydean​ @band-and-sadness​

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {4}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

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

Synopsis:

Prince Hans is a mirror at heart, but wishes to shatter his reflections and correct his past mistakes. He returns to Arendelle, willingly surrendering himself to Queen Elsa’s judgement. Uncovering truths, unforeseen circumstances and a bit of je ne sais quoi, bring the Ice Queen and the Mirror Prince together in a way neither of them would have imagined.

A/N:

(( This is a collaborative RP Fic written by lovely fellow Helsa shipper FOW and myself. We RP for fun and just wanted wanted to share this story with fellow shippers, especially all my lovely shipper buddies over in the Helsa Discord Server. Long live the Province of Helsa! Thank you, Beta Reader Friends, your help is much appreciated. Hope you enjoy~ ))

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3. Bear Your Burdens

Chapter 4. Siren's Song

It was a new day and Elsa was back to daily queenly duties. The sister session with Anna had calmed her nerves a bit, yet he was still on her mind. It was hard to focus on her paperwork. She had received no update on his condition yet, she assumed that meant he had remained stable, at least she hoped. She sighed, she knew she wouldn't get much work done with this eating away at her mind.

She got up from behind her desk, and began to pace, like she usually did when she pondered. Elsa sighed deeply and walked out of her study. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but there was no stopping now, she was past the point of no return. When she arrived at the hall at the opposite end of the castle, she saw the guards stationed at the door, her heart skipped a beat, but she pressed forward. She walked up to the door and stopped.

The guards glanced at each-other and shrugged. They knocked to herald Elsa's arrival, and opened the door for her. It was unlocked, but it seemed they didn't see that as a concern.

Hans was, surprisingly, sitting up. He had straightened up a bit on her arrival, but opted out of a shirt. His torso was mostly covered in bandages, it seemed to do well enough, but it also showed that he was no idle prince. His arms and torso had plenty of muscle. He was growing a bit of stubble as well- no-one had given him anything he could have shaved with.

Usually he would have greeted her, but at the moment he seemed uncertain how he felt. He didn't seem as positive toward her, but didn't seem to dislike her, either. It was not his forced neutrality, just a general uncertainty.

"No letters today, I'm afraid. I've been a bit preoccupied." He remarked. He still clearly wasn't up to full form (else he probably would have put on a shirt), but he seemed to be conscious and aware enough. He seemed different without the layers of shirt and coat, a bit more of a rugged Navy man than the prince who stood tall. And, beneath the bandages, he was still wearing treasoner's striped hide.

Seeing him shirtless had caught her off guard, even if he was mostly covered in bandages, she tried to avert her gaze, but eyes kept darting back to examine him.

Letters? She had completely forgotten about those.

She let out a hum. "Oh, I didn't come for a letter..." she paused, maybe she was starting to regret coming to visit him.

Hans looked away as well. "Come to ask questions?" He proposed, less than content with the idea. "Or just to make sure I don't lie about being fine again? I'm afraid I have no intention to change that, but the doctor is checking on me regularly, so I can't be hiding anything." Perhaps his annoyance wasn't with her, but was more of a self-loathing. He certainly seemed to have enough of it.

Why was she there? She really had no business being there, but to pry. She felt genuine concern about him, after witnessing his afflictions, yet he wasn't aware of her presence during his surgery due to being unconscious. He would surely view her concern for him as pity.

"I'm sorry," she apologized impulsively. " I shouldn't have come."

She had come to check on his well-being, and he seemed to be better than the day before, even if he was in bad spirits, but she couldn't blame him for that. Her mission had been completed, she could move on with her day, it was best for her just to turn around and walk away.

"No-" Hans impulsively reached out a bit, then realized the gesture was strange. That, or he just felt his back twinge and bandages catch and had to stop. He pulled back as quickly as he started. "My apologies, I'm a bit surly this morning, I'm afraid. It's not in my nature, usually. Please, do ask your questions. I'll enjoy the friendly company." Even if he didn't seem happy, it was more pleasant to see the Queen than to be lost in his thoughts. He briefly looked up at the ceiling, as if looking for something, but he didn't look for longer than a glance. There was nothing there but the decorated and relatively flat bedroom ceiling one might expect of a palace.

Elsa hesitantly stood in place for a moment. She followed his gaze up to the ceiling.

"Are you sure? I would not like intrude if you would just wish to rest and recover," she said as she already started to bridge the gap between her and bedside. She paused and asked a question that would have been strange not given the circumstances. "...Would you like some ice?"

Hans thought about it a moment. "...Sure. Some ice would numb the pain." He would never show his pain, but at least he admitted he had it. "Hot packs and cold packs, one or the other always, it seems. Please, do stay. I enjoy your company, even if I don't always show it." It was almost intimidating, when she was close to him. He knew she wouldn't hurt him intentionally, but it didn't stop him from holding his breath when her hands were close to him, or when her gaze met his and asked questions she never said.

The heat emanating from him was no longer searing like it had been last night, yet it was still fairly warm, she wondered if he still had a mild fever or if he was inherently that warm. She was cautious as she focused her powers to create a light layer of frost over the bandages on his back.

"Better?" she asked as she finished, bringing her hands down to her sides.

Hans couldn't help but tense when she touched his bandages. Not in fear, per se, but perhaps in anticipation. He could almost feel the way the frost crept in shards and fractals over the bandaging.

"Yes, thank you." He nodded, not sure how he felt when she pulled her hands back. He was struck -not for the first time- by her beauty and grace, and the kindness in her words and deeds, tone and poise. "I hope I didn't ramble too deliriously yesterday. I didn't realize I was in such a poor state until I was too tired to do anything about it." And he definitely didn't remember it. He vaguely recalled writing his note and feeling unfocused, then definitely not being able to properly focus on the people in front of him, and laying down. He wouldn't never lay down in front of company unless they were going to, as well. He must have been doing poorly.

Elsa gave as soft smile at his thanks. She shook her head at his comment about deliriously rambling. And then she stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to continue.

Elsa was not a conversationalist, that was definitely Anna's prowess not hers.

Hans waited a long moment, and seemed as engaged in the silence as he was in conversation. Waiting for her to speak, pondering over the time it took, and the expressions she gave. Hans was an analyst, someone who watched others and gauged them. He had to be, if he was to mirror them.

"Would it be easier if I put on a personality? Told another story? I believe it was the sirens, last time, right? I liked that story. Before Arendelle, I tried to believe we had made it up. Now I know that we didn't." He considered telling her she had a few similarities to them, but he couldn't imagine she would take that well, no matter how he meant it.

" I believe," she muttered under her breath as she remembered the words she had written on the note she had planned to give him. "The sirens yes," she said drifting out of her daze. "I enjoyed reading your tale ...and the song, even though I'm not familiar with the tune, so I couldn't quite place the notes." she stated. "My heart is pierced by cupid," she said mindlessly remembering the lyrics.

Hans smiled a bit, almost sheepishly. "I... played the harp, in the Isles. All my brothers learned an instrument, mine was the harp. I could play a bit, if we had one. My voice isn't as nice as a siren's, but I know the words." He seemed embarrassed of the feminine instrument, but he was proud of the skill it took to learn it.

"The harp is a beautiful instrument,"she smiled. " We might be in luck, 'cause I'm pretty sure there's a small harp in the music room, though it's probably best not to strain you playing the harp now, but I do wish to hear you play it someday," she said delightedly. "I think your voice would be fair enough, if you don't mind indulging me, could you please share the tune? I would love to learn it." She was so eager to hear the song, that it didn't cross her mind that it was strange or awkward to ask him to sing to her.

Hans seemed uncertain. He was going to ask that he play it instead, but he remembered the way his back twinged when he reached out to her before. "That may be for the best." He admitted, reluctantly. He felt it supremely awkward to sing for anyone else, but she asked, so he would acquiesce. Besides, he recalled singing back to the sirens, even though there were others around. Why did it bother him now then?

"It's not an uncommon song to hear on land, in the right places." He assured, And at least this song was mostly voice, and didn't need music to be beautiful. So he started at the beginning of the song.

Upon one summer's morning

I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping

Where I met a sailor gay

Conversing with a young lass

Who seem'd to be in pain

Saying, William, when you go

I fear you'll ne'er return again

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

There were more verses, and he seemed to know them all. None of them were like the one he retorted with, however. That had been Hans' own creation, it seemed. The song was soft; unsettling, but affectionate. The song of someone who wouldn't be seeing their love again, whether they knew it or not.

Elsa picked up the melody right away and began softly humming it herself, to try to memorize the tune.

Hans had a lovelier voice than he was willing to admit, Elsa found his voice quite soothing, even with the slightly somber words.

"That was quite beautiful, Thank you for your indulgence," as she continued to hum.

Hans shrugged. "As her Majesty commands." He assured sweetly. She had asked, so he provided. He wouldn't have been truly bidden to her crown, as a prince- but as he had said, he was a prince 'in name only'. Perhaps, as her prisoner, he truly was. Both in practice and in theory.

It remained silent between the two, except for Elsa's hum. Elsa didn't mind silence, it was quite comforting to her, but thought maybe it had been dwelling on too long. Her hum stopped as she tried to rekindle a conversation. " Would you like to share another story? I would be happy to listen, though I might have asked too much of you with my last request and you would rather rest," she offered. Elsa seemed to forget she had other duties to attend to, though she could get to them later. In a strange way she was quite enjoying his company, and did not want to dismiss herself, as if he had been just another one of her obligations.

He thought a bit about it. "What sort of story would you like? I have stories of fighting pirates on the open sea, stories of the mischief I used to get up to as a boy, it just depends on the sort of story you would like to hear. I certainly enjoy talking when I'm away from the Isles, as long as the room doesn't echo." What a strange stipulation.

Both options he offered were quite interesting. She really was curious to know more about his childhood, yet she knew talk of the Isles seemed to inflict pain, and she really didn't want to cause him any more discomfort right now. So decided to opt out for the pirates, since she also knew how much he loved talking about the sea. "A story about pirates sounds compelling. Did you really cross them yourself?"

Hans smiled a bit. "That was my job, protecting the merchant vessels through the area on my ship. I was acting admiral and captain of the Conch Cat. It's a term for a cat with extra toes, they're supposed to be lucky, and as the thirteenth, I needed all the luck I could get. We had a cat on board, 'Big Red'. We called him 'His Highness' because he had the same fur color as me, and we'd direct people to the cat any time they asked for the prince." Hans grinned a little at the thought. He tried to lean back, then stopped and sat forward again. He didn't express pain, but it was pretty clear he had felt it.

"So, one day, we were stuck in a fog. You can't move in a fog, generally, because if it's too thick, you can't see where you're going and might run aground, or worse. So we had the sails away, anchor down, and were just waiting for it to clear. That day, we had a young man named Fletcher up in the Crow's nest. Fletcher's a good lad, and the best set of eyes you could have aboard a ship. Next thing I knew, he was at my elbow saying 'Pirates off the port bow'. I wasn't about to doubt him and his eyes, he had never led me astray before, but I had always fancied playing games with pirates." Hans grinned a little bit.

"I have respect for pirates, truthfully. They treat their crews well, generally, they would sometimes have female captains or pirates among them, they never cared about one's color or creed, only what one could earn. They even had healthcare and took care of their own. I can respect that. So anyway, I told my crew to get their weapons and hide. We were midway through a long journey, we had some empty containers in cargo. So men took their weapons and fled in all corners, looking for places to hide. Even the cat seemed to hide under a bed in wait."

"But of course, as the Captain, I needed to have a primary role in defeating the pirates and bringing them in, and I had every intention to. So I went to the stairwell down into the hold, where most of my crew was hiding away, and I climbed it. Hands on one wall, feet on another, I climbed up above the door, like I've done to escape my brothers before. I even put myself in a nonchalant sitting position with my sword in-lap, and just waited there. Now in truth, that's rather difficult to do for a long period of time, but it was worth it. I held until the pirate captain passed right under me with his crew before. 'Hello, Gentlemen', I said, then dropped down like a cat from a shelf. My crew popped out from hidden compartments and beer barrels and under tables and stairs, and they were quite held fast. There were a few scuffles in getting everyone tied and handled into the brig, but the only one who did any real damage was a female pirate cursing our crew, her crew, and every Navy man under the sun. I admired her spirit, the boatswain not so much, when she near cut a chunk out of his arm, but we stopped her. Made for a nice story back at port."

Hans grinned at the whole story, thinking back fondly to the Navy. The same Navy that nearly killed him. It was strange how he could smile about it.

His grin was contagious. Elsa couldn't stop herself from smiling along as he told the story. It was way more than just his grin though, it was how he told the story with so much passion it was hard not to smile. Reading his letters were nothing compared to hearing them straight from the source. The way he told the story was so lively and immersive Elsa almost felt she was there herself.

She picked up part about his brothers that seemed out of place in the talk about pirates. In fact it almost felt like he had more admiration for the Pirates than his Brothers.

It saddened her that he would no longer be able to do something he spoke of with such fondness.

" His Highness, huh? I don't think I've ever seen a cat with red fur, that would definitely be a sight to see."

"He was a bit, beautiful longhair. The problem with that was, he also liked me, and would lay on my shoulder all the time, so I constantly looked like I was losing my hair from all the fur he left on my uniform." Hans laughed, gesturing around his neck, though the gesture was a little stiff as pain halted him again.

"He'd purr in my ear all the time, a most calming creature. Cats are lucky on boats, and necessary to keep mice out of the stores, and he was a big fluffy sweetheart. Probably still on the boat, he's old but he's not that old." Hans liked cats. It didn't come up often, but he did. Cats and horses.

"Speaking of animals, how is my horse? Sitron has always been good, I was happy to hear you would be kind to him."

The question caught her off guard. She hasn't thought much about his Horse since his arrival. She had sent the horse to royal stables where he would be treated well like she promised, at least she hoped that was the case, she really had to check in on the Sitron now that he mentioned it.

"Sitron, is in the royal stables, he should be properly provided for," Elsa said. "You really care for your horse don't you? It was a bit strange that you brought him along with you."

Hans nodded. "He's been mine since I was a young man. Horses and swords, the Isles are pretty traditional. The only thing I could talk to without feeling like I would be teased or chastised later for what I said- as long as I rode far enough from home, first. I never wanted to be near home anyway, so it worked out nicely for me. I brought him for companionship on the boat."

The Isles seemed like a very traditional nation. There was nothing wrong with traditions, yet the way Hans spoke about his own homeland sounded less like a case of excessive discipline, and more like vigorous cruelty. Elsa didn't know how to respond.

Perhaps Hans caught the look on her face.

"It's not the way it sounds. The crown is kind. My father, and the eldest brother are good men. Great men, in fact. If they adhered to the grim law as well as they say they do, four of us would have been hanged. Two as common thieves in Corona, one is in trouble with the church and is a thief, and me. A treasoner. None of us have been. Brothers are just personally violent toward each-other naturally, I'm led to believe. Though as princes with perhaps too much leeway, it got out of hand on a regular basis." To say the least.

"I do like some of my brothers. It's the seven or so in the middle I can't stand." Slightly over half, as if that helped.

"I can't imagine having so many siblings. I only had one and-" Elsa trialed off for a second. "...that was hard enough."

Hans tilted his head curiously. "Was?" It was strange, Elsa spoke in the past-tense.

"Good god, did something happen to her?" He sounded genuinely concerned for a moment. Ironic, for someone who tried to kill them both.

"Wait, what? No, Anna is fine!" she burst in fluster. Her tone softened. "...I was just think of our childhood, and how I couldn't be with her...even if I wanted to..."

Hans nodded thoughtfully. "Every family has its idiosyncrasies, I suppose. But your relationship with your sister is beautiful and warm. I have that with a few brothers, it can be... lifesaving." He seemed lost in his own thoughts as well.

"Will you continue to visit? Or am I just lucky because I don't have paper to write?" He smiled a little toward her, something of respect in his look. He must have respected her, he continued to tell the truth, or at least to claim to. He wasn't keeping his false neutrality, but he didn't seem to be putting on an act in particular. If he was, he didn't seem to notice.

"Kicking me out already?" she tried to tease. "Hmm... I have to admit listening to your stories was more enjoyable than reading them, makes me reconsider giving you pen and paper... Regardless, I would probably come visit to provide more Ice if you still desire it." She returned a soft smile.

He smiled a little. "I can't, I'm in your home." He pointed out, jokingly. "Surprised the guards stand on the outside. Maybe they realized I never try the doors, though they don't seem to be locked." Hans knew he could open the doors. Then what? Run? He had no desire to, and wasn't certain he could get far even if he weren't injured.

"I'm happy to tell stories any time you ask. Or just talk about whatever. I came here to give truths, not more lies. Whatever you should ask. And, I wouldn't say no to more ice." There was a bit of a smile there that suggested he might have asked even if he didn't need the ice. It would easily have been an excuse for her to visit, though in this case, he actually did need it. "Someday I'll play the harp for you, if you like." He had not forgotten that idea. 'Someday'. A someday he almost seemed to be looking forward to.

Elsa glanced towards the door, when Hans mentioned it, he was always very observant.

His stories she would be eagerly awaiting to hear. Truths on the other hand she was still unsure of, especially ones that had been brought up in the Throne Room, they had been weighing on her mind & would require more deliberation (but she could dwell upon those later).

Elsa had really enjoyed keeping him company. She realized that this was the first time since he returned to Arendelle that she really felt at ease in his presence.

Hans really shouldn't have pledged he'd do whatever she'd ask, cause she could be likely to take him up on his offer, and to his dismay, she might make him sing for her again or worse.

The Ice had truly been more of an excuse to return, but was glad it was purposeful as well.

" I would really like to hear you play, someday," she smiled. There was a brief pause of silence. " I really should take my leave, I do have paperwork still waiting for my attention, and it's very possible that Anna as well."

Hans nodded, hesitantly. "Does she... know that I'm here?" He sounded like he almost didn't want to know the answer. "At least in the dungeons I was fairly certain she wouldn't visit. I'd sooner go through this again than hear what she thinks of me now." He gestured to the wounds on his back. "Though it is a very slim margin." He would sooner endure pain that could kill him than endure one upset woman telling him how horrible he was- but most particularly, the one he had been engaged to.

The question made her tense up. Elsa pursed her lips, something about Hans inquiring about Anna made her uncomfortable. She dismissed it as her over-protectiveness, that was strongest when it involved him.

Anna might not have known that he was here in this room, but she was well aware of his presence. Elsa had informed her sister right away about the Prince's new residence in the dungeon, she did not want to keep that a secret from her. Of course, Anna had been upset with the news, and had wished to visit him just to assault his face with her fist yet again, but Elsa had forbade and fortunately Anna had complied with her wishes.

" She... she is well aware of your return to Arendelle," she answered softly.

Elsa had feared the two crossing paths again, for she knew her sister would give him more than just a piece of her mind. There was a reason Elsa was wary of mentioning Hans as the reason behind her distressed state last night.

She was afraid of telling Anna about her visits with Hans and what she might think them, that's exactly why she hasn't been open to sharing details with her.

There was a higher chance of them having a confrontation now, with Hans now residing within the castle walls, and that scared Elsa. Especially since Elsa was well aware of her sister's curious nature, the risk of her stumbling upon this room was high.

Hans nodded thoughtfully.

"It's okay, I can withstand what's deserved. I did attempt treason, after all. Whatever my reasons, treasons are treasons." He laughed a little, dryly, at his wordplay. "Perhaps she'll take pity if I'm still dressed in bandages." That was a joke, though it was almost certainly true.

Anna was bound to find out sooner or later, but Elsa didn't think she wasn't ready to tell her just yet, mostly because she didn't know how. The clash between Anna and Hans was inevitable, it might be better to let it run its course sooner rather than later. Elsa just felt she ill-prepared to deal encounter and its aftermath.

Elsa let out a slight huff and flashed a grim smile.

" I should go now, " she said softly as shifted awkwardly in place.

Hans closed his eyes briefly, and nodded.

"Until next time, your Majesty. I shall look forward to your next visit." His tone was positive, but it seemed that Hans was still thinking of something grimmer. As she began to leave, he moved to lay down again on his bed. The doctor would be along shortly to change his bandages, anyway.

"Until Next Time," she said heading towards the door. As her hand reached the doorknob she peers back to look at him. She can sense a shift in his mood. "... I can ask the guards to bring you some books, if you like, to occupy your mind." She offers.

He thought about it a bit.

"Your favorites, perhaps? I'm curious what you would choose." He suggested fondly, without telling her his. Of course, as an adventurer, his preference was for adventure novels. But he wanted to know her better. He told her, much, it was her turn to share her interests.

" All right, I'll see what I can find," she said turning the door knob. "I'll keep them a surprise until they arrive." Elsa flashed a playful smile.

Hans nodded, amused by her attempts at suspense, and settled himself on his arms like a great cat again.

Elsa exited the room, gently closing the door behind her. The guards acknowledged her as was customary, but didn't say a word. They were the same two guards as before (they still had not had their rotation), They had known how much time Elsa had spent in there with the Prince. The realization made her cheeks lightly flush in fluster, but it just a twinge of short lived embarrassment. She'd done what she set out to do, which was check-in on Hans, yes, she might have lost track of time, but that was okay for she had enjoyed his company, for once.

She continued on her way back to her study, reminding herself to stop by the library on her way to pick up some books, as promised. Unconsciously, Elsa began humming the tune the Prince had reluctantly sang to her.

[chuuulip]

All good boys go to heaven

Pairing: Bucky x Fem reader

Warning: NSFW / smut (18+ thank you 💋), unprotected sex 😳 😳 😳

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: Bucky got an unexpected welcome home from his wife. This is written for @suz-123 ‘s 1.5K writing challenge, thank you for letting me participate in this darl 💋 This is in the same universe? to My 1st attempt at writing and 2nd attempt (The Lady and The Butler).

My mystery prompt is ‘Pot luck 14′: “Wait, how did you know it was my birthday?” “It’s the same day every year. It doesn’t take a detective.” 

Notes: This is the first time ever I write a complete one-shot. Also, this is the first time I wrote some smut 😳🙈. This story actually didn’t mean to be smut, but it just happened, I can’t control it 😅 I guess it’s also because I am listening to ‘heaven” by Julia Michaels a lot, and I put some of the lyrics in this story.  I wanted to thank you for the incredible (not hulk 🙈) @theimaginesyouneveraskedfor for betaing this story 😘 who is also a badass writer (especially smut). This is nothing compared to other vab authors who I know wrote filthy sexy smut like @cametobuyplums @sovietghoststories @jewelofwinter @youngmoneymilla @bybibucky @shield-agent78 and the host of the challenge @suz-123 also some more romantic and soft like @kentuckybarnes and @all1e23 @whitewolfbumble and many more (can I add all of you author?) Ok I'm rambling, sorry about that 🙊   

💋 💋 💋

“Doll, I am home.” It was quite dark outside when I pulled up to the driveway. Coming back to an empty and dark house is something unusual. She was always there to greet me with a sassy remark. She's has a bit of a potty mouth on her. I’ve always wondered why Stark paired us up so often during missions.

I walked past the living room to the dining room after locking the front door. The two-story house wasn’t that big, it was easy for me to navigate inside.

“Agent?” The silent treatment was kind of odd but I can feel another heartbeat in the room.

“Surprise!”

The sudden light from the kitchen kind of blinded me for a second.

“Happy birthday husband!” She was there, standing in the dining room, waiting for me. The party blower and confetti enlivened the formerly quiet, empty house, and startled me.

“Wait, how did you know it was my birthday?” The sudden pout that formed on her face made her red lips look more kissable. Wait, when did I start thinking of her like that?

“It’s the same day every year. It doesn’t take a detective.”  She stepped closer, her hand reached out to hold my metal arm and pulled off the hi-tech fake human skin that covers my metal arm.

“Besides,” she leads me to sit on the chair. “It will make me look like the worst wife ever if I forgot the birthday of my beloved husband.” The kiss on my cheek kind of caught me off guard.

“Wait here, we will have a proper dinner for you.” I can’t help but touch my left cheek, the one that was kissed. What the actual fuck happened?  Did something happen while I was gone?

“Here,” she served two plates of steak on the table. “I made you a special birthday steak. I know you like it rare.” she continued and placed two glasses and a bottle of wine on the table. “The wine is really good though. A gift from Stark, since we can’t celebrate it on the tower.”

I hadn’t realized that she wore something flattering tonight. A vintage black cocktail dress enveloped her exquisitely. The fabric shimmers in a way, made her skin glow.

The bodice has off-the-shoulders short sleeves, with a crisscross wrapped detail, and cleavage on display. Jesus, is this some kind of a joke?  

 “Uhh…here, let me help.” I took the wine and uncorked it. I poured it equally for both glasses.

 “Come on, let’s eat our dinner James.” James? since when were we on the first name basis?

 “For a better and a lucky year!” we clinked our glasses carefully. She sipped her wine and moaned a bit, I couldn’t help but gulp at that sound.

 “Oh definitely a great wine, we should thank Stark later.” She put the wine down and began cutting a piece of the steak. “James,” I can’t help but stare at her, fingers on top of my human hand, eyeing me with concern. “I know the wine don’t have any effect on you, I wish I had asked Thor to bring the Asgardian mead instead.” Oh, now I made her upset, shit.

“Oh, no agent…”

“Agent?”

“Doll…”

“That’s better.” I can’t help but huffed and laughed a bit at that. I could get used to this side of her.

 “The steak and the wine are perfect. You don’t need to think about it. Ok?” how she just nodded at my comment and didn’t even try to cut off my sentences, kind of, stirred something inside me.

 “Can we finish the dinner quickly? I still have something to show you.” She bit her lip and blushed. Oh, how interesting.

 “Sure doll. I can’t wait to see what you want to show me.” I smiled at her and as I promised, I began to eat the steak. The moan that escaped my mouth caught her interest.

 “Is the steak to your liking?” she nervously looked at me, eyelashes fluttering, If I dare say seductively. This kind of behavior was new to me and I had absolutely no idea what she intended.

 “Yes, it is a very delicious doll. The meat was so juicy, absolutely tasty.” I dared to wink at her, and oh how she blushed at me more now. Jesus, this might be the best birthday ever in my so over a hundred years ole’ live.

We ate the rest of our supper in silence. I was afraid to break the spell if I suddenly talk. Our plates and the bottle of wine were empty and we talked a bit after dinner. I talked about the latest information that I acquired from the office where I work as a fake accountant. This mission was a bit hard on both of us, since we had no idea who we are trying to take down. Tony only gave us a small amount of information, that one of the employees in the company I worked with was an important Hydra agent in hiding that has laid low for over a year, try to gain a perfect timing to strike back.

 She suddenly stood and collected the plates on the table. Being the gentlemen I am, I tried to help her but she swatted my hands away. “Stay here, I will be back in a minute.” I can hear the sound of glass clink far away, she probably put the dishes on the sink,

 “James, can you close your eyes for me?” I could hear her voice from the kitchen. Here it comes, the surprise. “Ok doll.” I shout back at her.

“No peeking ok.” I can sense her coming closer to the dining table.

“Promise!” I gave a salute while closing my eyes.

 I could hear her steps, moving stealthily beside me, suddenly pressed to my right side. In this close proximity, I can smell her perfume. it smelled sweetly of vanilla and maybe freesia. It radiated a sensual, mature aroma I never noticed before.

 “Now, you can open your eyes.” There, sat a slice of red velvet cake. The four-layer cake was coated with a contrast of white frosting topped with strawberry and chocolate stick. Something like cherry sauce, drizzled from the cake to the plate and one small candle were situated between the strawberry and chocolate stick.

 “Oh wow.” I couldn’t help but remember when my Ma celebrated my birthday with a red velvet cake. It was a long time ago, before the war.

 “Hey, what’s wrong?” Her concerned look made me feel a bit guilty. I sighed in defeat, whatever she wanted to do today, I’ll do it. I certainly deserved a day without drama, especially on my birthday.

 “Noting doll, it just reminds me of my Ma. Come sit closer so I can blow the candle.”

 I was dumbfounded when instead of sitting next to me, she sat on my lap, right hand curled at my neck. I tried to mask my reaction as smoothly as possible, while she acted oblivious. I balanced her and held her waist with my left metal hand.

“Come on, make a wish and blow out the candle.” the sweet whisper that caressed my ear was something hard to tolerate, let alone the fingers that combed the end of my hair.

 “Err...alright.”  I tried to concentrate and hoped to god whatever has happened to her might stay that way. It would be better for both us if we’re not trying to kill each other during every mission.

 Another kiss on my cheek after I blew the candle didn’t surprise me this time. I tried to get used to all the affection she showered on me.

 The taste of the red velvet cake melted on my tongue. “Did you also make the cake yourself?” the delightful beam on her face answered the question.

 “How’s it taste?”  

I hummed while taking another slice of the cake. “Delectable, doll.” I never knew she was a skilled cook, a better baker. Now I wonder if the cookies in the common room were also baked by her.

 I offer her a piece of the cake, but she insisted that the cake was just for me. “The cake is for the birthday boy.” Her earlier affection apparently grew even bolder, as she leaned in to lick a frosting around my lips.

 “So…, would you mind telling me what are you wished for?”

“It’s a secret.” I laughed when she pouted at my answer.

 “Well…not more than just wishing that I will always be surrounded by my family, I mean my friends and the team in general.”

 “Sweet!” I felt the tinge of disappointment when she hopped off my lap. Wait, what’s wrong with me?

 “Now…” She slowly climbed on the table and sat there. Plates put away to the right, hands held on my tie. “I still have another present for you Sergeant.” I gulped nervously at that revelation.

 “Uhh yeah, what is it?” her fingers interlaced on my tie, and cleverly unfolded the messy knot that I made this morning. She draped it on her right hand and slowly spread it, at the same level as my vision.

“It’s a surprise.” She smiled seductively. I couldn’t help but feel all hot and bothered since the front of her dress was teasingly low, cleavage dangerously close to my face.

 “Closed your eyes would you?” Her eyebrow arched at me. It’s more like a demand than a question. I nodded at her request.

 Not a couple seconds passed, she put the tie on my eyes. The silken fabric glided gracefully on my face and draped on top of my eyelids. Both ends of the tie twisted in a knot, not to tight but strong enough not to slide down from my eyes.

Both her hands were on mine. She led me to stand up from the chair and I followed her somewhere. When she told me to be careful of the stairs, I suspiciously thought she wanted me to follow her to the bedroom.

 We came to an abrupt stop and she asked me to sit on the chair. I can hear the rustle of fabric on my left. The sound of a zipper being pulled down simply put me on alert.

“Relax sergeant.” She whispered closely to my ear and I jumped slightly. Her chuckle teasing endlessly while she ran her fingers from my hair to my shoulder.

 “Do you prefer some music?” she continued playing with the collar of my white shirt.

 “Yes,” I answered stiffly.

A small beep and I can hear the music play, the melody echoed in the room.

 ¯Ooh¯

¯Ooh¯

¯Ooh¯

 “Now sergeant, you can untie the blindfold.”

I loosened the tie that blindfolded me. The light slowly struck to my eyes. I tried to adjust to the dim light in the room by massaging my eyelids with my fingers.

 ¯Love's my religion but he was my faith¯

¯Something so sacred so hard to replace¯

 Gradually my gaze trained on the woman in front of me and I was caught off guard yet again. She was there standing, wear something like a short kimono that looked so soft. Gone was her vintage cocktail dress.

 ¯Fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace¯

¯All wrapped in one he was so many sins¯

“So do you like your special gift?” her hands were on my shoulders and I couldn’t help but shudder when her fingers played with the back of my neck.

 “What…wh..at do you mean?” I stuttered, I kind of didn’t know what to reply to her.

“I want you to open your special gift.” Her hands clasped on mine and guided them to the knot of her kimono.

 ¯Would have done anything everything for him¯

¯And if you ask me I would do it again¯

 Nervously, I untied the ribbon of her kimono. I couldn’t help but gaze up to her while she stood in front of me, just between my legs

 “Jesus, Joseph, Mary, holy shit doll.” The thing she disguised under that short kimono was sinfully sexy, my eyes bulging at how the lingerie concealed almost nothing from my eyes. The length of it was a bit too short, safe to say it covered her hips and maybe her bum. Sheer fabric was seen through with a floral lace pattern covered a bit of her breasts. And damn that lace panty, the small triangle only left a little to the imagination, deliciously ravishing.

 ¯No need to imagine¯

¯'Cause I know it's true¯

 I could hardly restrain myself from ripping apart that lingerie on her. Wait what the fuck! Keep your head straight Barnes.

 “So, do you like it then?” She smiled enticingly. I could feel her hands cupping my face, gazing down on me, as I sat dumbfounded on the chair.

 ¯They say "all good boys go to heaven"¯

¯But bad boys bring heaven to you¯

 She moved away, unexpectedly. I guessed that she wanted to distance herself, that this was some sort of mistake. But instead, she adjusted her position and sat on my lap. Her face was just inches from mine while her fingers were threaded together behind my neck, and play with the hair there.   

 ¯It's automatic¯

¯It's just what they do¯

 “Doll, what are you doing?” I tried to reason with her, but my voice came out weak. I didn’t need her to test my limit.

 She started kissing my cheek and slowly traveled down to my jawline, I couldn’t help but let out a low growl at that. I can’t remember the last time a woman held me like this.

 “What” *kiss*

“I’m doing” *kiss*

“is” *kiss*

“presenting you” *kiss*

“me” and *kiss*.

 She looked every bit as sexy in this state of dress, no, even more, I guess that was because of the lack of fabric covering her. And the declaration of her presenting herself as my gift, damn I couldn’t help but imagine her on the bed, naked. I was aware that my pants felt a bit snugged for my liking, especially when she sat nicely on top of my erection and rocked at it while kissing the spot under my ear.

 Get a grip together Barnes, you are not a dirty old man! Well…basically, I am 102 years old, so I am a bit of an old man.

 ¯They say "all good boys go to heaven"¯

¯But bad boys bring heaven to you¯

 I had no idea what was going through her mind right now. Can anyone blame me? But it seemed to me that she was every bit as sober as me.

 She retreated from her ministrations, sighing. “James, do you didn’t want this?’ Her voice came out frail. “Did I rub you the wrong way?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

 I blinked, not understanding what she meant. Then the realization hit me, my silent treatment had hurt her.  

 ¯You don't realize the power they have¯

¯Until they leave you and you want them back¯

 “Would you prefer if I was Natasha or…or maybe Wanda who is here right now?” she studied me, daring me to tell her the truth. “I know they are more attractive, sexier than me.”

 “What? No!” I couldn’t think of anything to say. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Slowly I urged myself to put my hands on her hips.

 “What’s really gotten into you doll?” my hands rubbed a small circle on her hips, a low sigh escaped from her lips while she leaned closer.

 “I don’t want to read this the wrong way. But you make it hard for me to think clearly all evening.” I couldn’t figure out why I felt sudden guilt. Is it because she saw me as more than just an irritating partner on missions? I just tried to keep things straight, I didn't want to hurt her, hell, I didn’t want to hurt myself.

 ¯Nothing in this world prepares you for that¯

¯I'm not a sinner he wasn't the one¯

 We stared at each other and I waited for her final response.

“You aren’t wrong James. I wanted you,” her lips ghosting over mine “every bit of you.” hands start trailing on the collar of my shirt down to my chest.

My desire slithered through my veins at hearing that confession.

 “I am warning you doll.” My voice came out as a growl, my metal arm slipped behind the sheer fabric, caressing her spine. “There is no coming back from this.” She bit her bottom lip seductively, pupils dilated and I mirrored her.

 “I don’t mind James. Sergeant, please…claim me.”

 ¯Had no idea what we would become¯

¯There's no regrets I just thought it was fun¯

 Something snapped inside me. I growled and tilted my face to kiss her. I realize how plump and soft her lips are, I never want to stop.

 The kiss was slow and I tried to relish every split second of it. Our lips languidly melted into each other as I rubbed her back. When moans escaped from her lips, I took that opportunity to slip my tongue and I could still taste that sweet wine on her. Her right fingers pulled my hair a bit harder and I couldn't help but let out a guttural groan while she tries to deepened the kiss and rocked further on my lap.

 ¯No need to imagine¯

¯'Cause I know it's true¯

¯They say "all good boys go to heaven"¯

¯But bad boys bring heaven to you¯

 “Jesus, doll.” Her swollen lips sought mine when we parted for air, her hand squeezed my shoulder.

 “Praising the god so much today….hmm?” she bites my bottom lip while she unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off.

 I just smiled seductively at her “Oh you have no idea doll. It takes every ounce of my sanity not to tear apart this flimsy fabric.” I was surprised when I found nothing covering her bum. The state when she nibbling her lip momentarily as my flesh hand traced the left cheek of her bum aroused me even more.

 “Sweet Jesus…”

 She grinned and tilted her head to the right, lips eagerly pressed to mine, hands tracing my bare chest while she deepened the kiss. My flesh and metal hands kneading her bum in a rock back and forth motion, I bet pre-cum already dampened my briefs.

 A sudden yelp followed and a loud sigh escaped her when I started kissing her jawline and nipping her collarbone hard, determined to leave marks on her beautiful skin.

Carefully I stood from the chair. Left hand secured her under her bum and right hand curled protectively on her waist while she held me tight with her hands on my shoulders and legs around my waist.

 Her back landed on the soft bed. Cautiously I continued to kiss a new path down to the valley of her breasts and buried my face in between, inhaled her scent.  

 “Mmmhm…” she hummed contently. The feel of her soft caresses on my hair and my shoulders lost me. “James oh…you are being a good boy today, praising Jesus all the time. You must be a church boy in the 40’s.”

 Chuckling, I whispered, “Oh don’t worry about that baby doll. I can be both” she mewled when my lips finally covered her left nipple. ”I can be the good boys and go to heaven.” I turned to her right covered nipple and sucked it lewdly, releasing it with a pop “or I can be that bad boys and bring you heaven instead doll.” The softness of her breast in my hand made me giddy and I couldn’t stop squeezing it while rocking back at her covered core.  

 “Is this music is all about? Do you want to know if I am a good or bad boy?” I tugged the small strap of her barely-there panties and the sound of her gasp when it slapped back to her skin sounded so sinful.  

 “Be prepared doll, careful of what you’re wishing for.”

 A squeak came out of her when I dove straightly into her covered core, legs over the back of my shoulder, a low moan emitted from her when I first kiss it.

 “Shit you are so wet doll.” My hands stroked her calves to her tight while I appreciated the view in front of me.

 “No…James.” Her whimper came out like a sobbing when she tugged my hair up to meet her face. “This is your birthday…it should be me who go dow...” the protest soon interrupted when I stopped her with a deep kiss.

 “I wanted to doll. I want to restart my muscle memory, want to taste it.” Nothing else mattered except her at the moment.

 Another whine arose from her pouty lips when she felt my hot breath back on her wet entrance, tongue play with her little nub, coaxing more juices to drench from her.

I groaned while probing deeper into her entrance, alternately working my tongue with come hither motion.

 “Oh god…James.” She sobbed and her fingers tugged deliciously on my hair.

 “I want to taste your sweet juice baby doll. I want to suck every drop of it” boldly I murmured on her lips and bit her bottom lip while my flesh hand shoved her panty to the side, and I started entering her hot entrance.

 “James…I want your left…I want your metal arm please.”

”Fuck doll, is this…” I replaced my flesh hand with my metal arm. “is this metal arm turn you on huh?” my cold fingers contrasted with her hot passage, drawing another moan from her when I teased her inside.

 “Mmmmm oh yes…yes” she nodded slightly, eyes glazed with lust. “oh yes…I always want it on me.” My fingers continually worked, building pressure on her lower belly. She grasped the sheet and I could feel her stomach tense.

 “Uhhh…JJ…James, I’m gonna…”

“Come… come doll, let it all out.” I thrusted harder and going down, flicked my tongue on her sensitive bud and she came, presenting me with the most idyllic sight I’d ever seen. I lapped the excess juice from her soft and trembling core, lips puffy and delicate to my persistent kitten lick.

 When she finally came back from her high, I climbed over her and kissed her, tongues dancing in a slow and sensual pace. Her right hand raking the back of my shoulder while her left one, trailed my chest down to my abdomen.

 I groan when she continued her ministration down to my hard erection. I withdrew from the kiss to meet with the mischievous glint in her eyes.

 “I am not done with you baby doll.”

She proceeded, still massaging my hardness, lips puffy from kissing and skin glowing from perspiration. Damn, I would love to get used to this sight of her.

 “Show me…show me how I excite you, Sergeant. Do me as you please.”

 I stood and stripped out of my pants, pre-cum visible to the eyes. She mirrored my action, taking off her flimsy lingerie. She propped herself up on her elbow, naked on the soft sheet and eyes hungry as she observed me from head to toe.  

 I climbed the bed and spread her legs widely. Slowly I toyed with the lips of her folds, running my hardness making back and forth motion, drenching it with her wetness. My eyes couldn’t move from how she reacted to the teasing, especially when she took my metal arm and put the fingers in her mouth. The way her plump lips sucked on my metal fingers, swirling at it with her tongue, makes me go mental.   

 Carefully, I balanced myself over her body, my flesh hand held both of her hands and pinned it above her head, on the bed.

 “Make love to me James…” she whispered. “I need you, please.” She replies hotly.

I positioned myself at her core. My hardness half dipping in her velvet entrance and I couldn’t help but groaned at how she accidentally pulsed, engulfing me with that softness.

I deepened my thrusts and proudly burst when a sudden yelp comes out from her, telling me how full she is.

 “So big…uhh…I can feel every vein of it, James.” She had me in an erotic trance, thrilled me to bits. I moved again, faster, stir and altering the depth of my trust inside her and enjoyed the reward of her sweet sound, whimpering my name to not stop and keep going.  

 She gasped when I maneuver to a certain degree and finally found her special spot that makes her crazy. I gave her open-mouthed kisses and swallowed her lewd voice.

 “Oh…James so good. Please don’t stop.” She cooed

“Shit, you are so fucking gorgeous doll. I love how helpless you are while I spread your legs wide and fuck you mercilessly.”

 She sobbed, asking me to go faster and harder. My length thrust forward coated by the wetness from her core.

 “Ugh…mmmm James I’m close.”

I groaned lowly at that. Her soft and moist wall gripped me hard, dangerously ready to squeeze me.

 “Shit, are you gonna come? Are you gonna fucking drench me with your sweet juices doll?”

 “Yes…yes, James.”

“Come doll…give me that come.”

Her body trembled in a flash. Eyes wide open, darkening slightly. Gradually I slowed my thrust, prolonging her orgasm while she sobbed and scratch her fingers from my shoulders to my ass.

 “Holy…that was so good James mmhm.. are you close? Tell me you are close!” she gasped breathlessly.

 “Yes,” I grunted in response, hand trailing her breast and kneading it. The sound of her lewd voice triggers me to thrust faster and suck her nipples with equal attention.

 “Yes, I am gonna come doll.” The softness of her core with the wetness from her orgasm was hard to resist. I blinked several times and saw her face, that rare innocent look of her.

“Don’t stop, please. Faster James!” She was frantic, legs locking between my back.

“Oh…James please fill me with it, do it.”

“Shit, doll are you sure?”

“Yes, I want to feel it. Please, Sergeant Barnes, I want it.”

“Barnes…”

“Barnes…” huh? Why she calls me Barnes again?

“Barnes…” she is shaking.

“Doll…, why are you…?” shaking? everything became blurry.

“Barnes…Barnes!”

“Bucky!”

 Startled, I was holding her hand for dear life. I realized I’m not in the bedroom. Not in the bedroom and having mind-blowing sex with her, with you. Shit it’s just a dream, is this some kind of a fucking joke.

 Soft hands squeezed my flesh hand while I tried to steady my breath, sending me out of my trance.

 “Are you ok? I try to wake you up from the bad dream but it doesn’t work.”

 I felt embarrassed and when I recalled it correctly it’s not precisely a bad dream to be honest. I cleared my throat and regained my composure “Yes agent I am ok, thank you.”

 “Oh thank god.” She pursed her lips and showed that big smile of hers. Shit, she smiled at me.

 I felt something wet on my pants and I can’t help but panic, I don’t want to make a fool of myself.

 “Barnes what’s wrong?”

 “Uhh nothing. I just need to go to the lavatory.” I am grateful with the blanket provided by the stewardess.

 “Hurry up Barnes. We will be landing shortly. Sam will pick us up at the airport”

 “Ok doll.” She arched her eyebrow in surprise. Shit, way to go Barnes.

I cleared my throat again to make sure I have my bearing “Uhh yes I am just gonna go for a minute.”  I hate public transportation. At least it’s a business class.

💋 💋 💋

[millennial-star-gazer]

The Draconic Demon Within: Chapter 3

The Draconic Demon Within (Originally for Nalu Lovefest 2017 on previous celestialgeekmage accounts and Angst Week 2015 on Twishadowhunter/teamedwardjace2 in the past and Vera's April 2018 Prompt challenge on cosmicdragonwizard account )

Genres: Romance, Friendship/Family, Drama/Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, & New Adult Fanfiction

Vera's April 2018 Prompts: Soul, Empyrean, Savage, Memory, Trust, Fear, Unstoppable , Resilient, Supernatural (Implied) Lost (Implied) and Loathing.

Nalu Lovefest 2017 Prompts: Dreams

Nalu Week 2019 Prompts (Implied:) Lost, Curse, Trial, Treasure, Chance and possibly Bare.

Pairing: Nalu/EndLu,( Natsu x Lucy/ E.N.D. x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You have been warned!)

Summary: Now faced with the reality of who he is truly is, the son of Igneel must contend with the new darker instincts of his new demonic identity- all while navigating through his ever-growing, intense feelings for a particular celestial wizard. Originally a Submission (semi -au) for Nalu lovefest 2017 (on my previous celestialgeekmage account and now  one of my  entries for @nalu-week 2019 with chapter 3. (Also was on my earliest previous accounts of teamedwardjace/Twishadowhunter in the past. Also part of Vera's April 2018 prompt challenge from fic-writers appreciation on cosmicdragonwizard).

1/2 entries for @nalu-week 

Chapter 3: When A Star Dies

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A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl MillennialStarGazer back again! This time, it's with another installment of TDDW which is also happens one of my entries weeks for @nalu-week  2019. I was actually working on Chapter 3 along with those for my other fics (including WIPs) on my ipod . Took me some time to finish on account my other writing projects and responsibilities in my life— though I'm glad that this chapter's finally posted. This chapter's title was inspired by A Billion Stars Will Die Today from the incredible Nights Amore who's one of my favourite modern composers. (This evocative score and other tracks can be found here). Oh and major kudos to my friends/mutual's @bmarvels and @doginshoe for taking the time to be my betas whose positive feedback helped me to further develop and improve this chapter during its draft stage. Your help was invaluable—thanks so much ladies! Anyways, without further ado , here's chapter 3—enjoy!

(Note:   I’ve had to use  an alternative means of inserting divider/ page breaks by inserting pictures (or typing) in light of the original  tumblr  feature seemingly being removed by @staff .   Anyway, please be sure to  scroll down past cut for disclaimer,  corresponding links, legend and actual chapter content).

Disclaimer: Fairytail does not belong to me, but to the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this work of love wouldn't be possible.

Read Previous Chapters of TDDW and on platforms here:

(Copy and paste the links into another  window if need be)

A. Tumblr

Previous (Click Here:) (or here https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179816334878/the-draconic-demon-withinreupload-from/amp): 

 Next (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/614628807073251328/the-draconic-demon-within-chapter-4-a-demons)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here:  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13113898/1/The-Draconic-Demon-Within-Reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

C. A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365061/chapters/40861307))

2. Ongoing Master  Post Of All My Writing (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post)

Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized, stylized Word(s) or bloodythirsty fantasies

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

"The stars are not wanted now;

put out every one,

Pack up the moon and

dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good."

(W.H. Auden: Funeral Blues)

Flashback

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"Lucyyyyy!"

Natsu's alarmed scream of Lucy's name rang out. Arms were catching his partner before she hit the ground. Just minutes before , the duo found themselves in the midst of a grueling stand off against two of Tartarus most notorious demons. Natsu versus Jackal ; Lucy versus Tempester who she battled with a valiant proficiency that her best friend or any other team would be immensely proud of;

"Whoosh and Whirl."

Only to be to no avail when a summoned whirlwind slammed into her light frame at the full force of a freight train before she could even blink.

"Lucy— can you hear me?"

"Please Luce— you gotta be okay! You.. can't... be gone... just can't be. If I Lose you...God! I can't... not again!"

Brittle words spilled from the lips of a tortured man rocking back and forth with a broken angel in his arms who never seemed so fragile.

My god... this pain... feels like everything is being blown apart! How viciously ironic those words proved to be. Natsu's entire world truly did seem to be crumbling around him.

"Lucy...open.. your eyes.." He gasped, frantic air being ripped from his lungs ." Let.. me know you're okay!... I'm .. begging ya'... just stay with ...me... Please?" The fire wizard's desolate voice broke on the last word. Gods above, what he wouldn't give to see or hear any vital signs of life from in motionless woman in his arms ; a single breath , a heartbeat or two, a twitch of fingers—anything! Honestly, he couldn't fathom how his life would have any meaning if his best friend's light was torn away from him.

Don't think I'd be able to go on.,,

It was then E.n.d realized his world would be so much darker without Lucy's guiding light— nothing more than a starless void. Not to mention, the indescribable , excruciating torment that would haunt their friends for years at a time if she didn't survive.

I couldn't stand to see them suffer like that. Luce has to survive — not just for my sake, but her own and the others… Please let her... what the hell?!

The unwelcome noise of steady, advancing footsteps broke through Natsu's reverie ; whose head whipped towards Jackal with a baleful growl.

"No— get away!"

"Ooh look at you barring your fangs at us like that!" Jackal was still sauntering towards the other wizards at a measured pace.

"Stay back!" The menacing snarl salamander slayer let loose in warning was positively bestial. Not to mention, his arms were automatically tightening around Lucy— sheer natural protective instinct. "Don't ya' dare come any closer!"

That bastard better leave us alone...

Good God how his fingers were just itching to char that infuriating , cocky smirk off the other demon's pathetic face.

But doing that would mean letting go out of Lucy and leaving her unprotected out in the open— not happening .

"Well aren't you quite the big,  scary, menacing, demon''. came Jackal's answering taunt, eyes flashing in sinister amusement.

" I said stay back..."

"Yeah, I don't think so," said Tartaros underling let out a taunting cackle of glee; which only served to boil the blood in Natsu's veins.

"Urghh–leave us alone or I'll literally burn the both of ya' to a pile of ashes for what you did to Lucy! "

Can't help but seriously want to tear them limb from limb right now...

Spasms racked the hybrid's sinewy frame at the same time as visceral images were flooding his brain from rising bloodlust.

Shredded remnants of flesh hanging from what was left of Jackal and Tempster's throat, a flash of extending talons.; spurting blood , hands instinctively pressing against punctured jugulars in frantic vain, agonized noises of agonized gurgling that were savagely pleasing to the ear. All for daring to lay a hand on the woman most precious—

Enough! God.. What the hell is wrong with me? And all these unexpected and strange, bloodthirsty instincts .. where are they coming from?! I mean sure I've been enraged enough to want avenge or thrash those who harmed my friends! But never the urge to kill —save for Jellal... and even that wasn't as graphic!

"Lost in thought?"

Jackal's taunting voice cut through E.n.d.'s reverie.

" Bastard— just leave us alone already!" His response was an incensed roar that was raising several octaves. "Why's that's so hard for ya' to get through your thick skull? As for my best friend— you'd better hope her heart's still beating or swear to God, I'll —”

"Jesus ...” The other demon muttered, his otherwise airy words laced with mild exasperation.

"Why are you so hung up over this celestial wizard of yours? Seriously dude... ya' might be one of the most powerful demons ever created— but you're kind of harshin' my vibe . Just chill.."

Scumbag… I'm either gonna save Lucy or avenge her...

"Look---no need to seem like you wanna rip our heads off, okay? Your woman's gonna be just fine. She's not dead— only unconscious. Hell, she's even got a pulse . Check for yourself if you don't believe me."

" Go to hell!" Natsu spat, words dripping with lethal venom." I don't take orders from sadistic psychopaths! And you'd honestly better not be lying!"

"I'm not. Just check, would ya'?"

Not trusting Jackal's claim , the fire demon lowered his head to press an ear against Lucy's chest; just for shock to shoot through his veins when what could only be the most precious noise in the entire universe could be heard — the steady beat of her heart!

Lucy's really okay?

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@soprana-snap @phoenix-before-the-flame @phoneboxfairy @bearpluscat @narutoyaoifan

@mautrino @goddesofimortality @nalufever  @thecelestialchick @nalu-natic @bearandbirdfan @pyroandtheprincess @mautrino @lucielhyung @smappybubbles @seehunnybees @lover-of-the-light117 

@rayhneatess  @nothingbutwordsstuff     @shootingstarssel @chamilsanya  @acidrain1698  @chamilsanya   @narutoyaoifan @superfreakerz  @nalu-natic @thecelestialchick @nalufever @moeruhoshi @h-eartfilias @lemonade-of-gods @fairywithajetblackheart  @katana-no-neko @mercurius-orion @nunnatheinsanegerbil @bearpluscat @shootingstarssel @kayty-of-fiore @narutoyaoifan @kaycha1989 @chiire @pyroandtheprincess @lovelyluce @sovay-says @satyrykal @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @phoneboxfairy @phoenix-before-the-flame @yukimcffblog @precenna @sugarpolis @fairywithajetblackheart @mercurius-orion @dark0angel13 @h-eartfilias @hungrypeanut  @shootingstarssel @sovay-says @satyrykal  @narutoyaoifan  @moeruhoshi @doginshoe @bmarvels

A/N: There you have it- chapter 3 folks! Fun fact about the title of this chapter: As you're aware, the title was inspired by previously mentioned score of the same name; Not to mention, how aptly-named this installment is if the events of this chapter, Lucy's type of magic and 's mindset are anything to go by. Not only is Lucy a celestial wizard, but she also happens to one of the precious lights or stars in Natsu/E.n.d.'s universe which he couldn't bear to lose if it were to be blotted out (from a metaphorical sense of course). Nor would he ever wish for his friends to suffer that kind of pain (as seen in the original anime/manga and sequel) . Hence why one of our favourite demons was so distraught when he truly believed Lucy to be possibly dead. Anyways, just thought I would provide a little more insight for those who were wondering.

All right, that's all for now. as always, don't forget to let me know what you think, like, reblog and share! Oh and be sure to stay tuned for the next chapter which will up ASAP once there's a chance for the writing process to start . Feel free to check out the rest of my writing as well! (Corresponding links are above, in the navigation bar and bio if reading this on tumblr. See other writing platforms for links as well! ) All right, that's it for now! Until next time— take care!

[kpoprunsmylifenow]

Difficulties

Best Friend!SF9 x Reader

Angst/Fluff

Summary: You were a producer after your group disbanded at FNC. And then a mess ensues.

A special thanks to @atiny-lesgeddit and @youremytreasure98 for being my beta readers ❤️ 🧡 💛 💙 💜 💚

(Love SF9. Do it.)

You’d been friends with SF9 since before they’d debuted. You’d became a trainee around the same time as Zuho and Rowoon. When they told you that they were finally going to debut, you were so proud of them. And eventually you ended up debuting as well, around the same time as their promotions for O Sole Mio. But after a couple of years, FNC decided to let disband your group. You’d only had one comeback after your debut, so all your members decided that it was coming soon. You all were sad to go, but you all kept in contact after your disbandment. So while your members went to pursue other careers, you stayed at FNC and became a producer there. You helped a lot of the older artists with their music, and even helped Zuho with some of his tracks for their upcoming album.

You were sitting in the studio, waiting on the boys to get there when you were writing down some lyrics for one of AOA’s possible songs for their comeback. The first to come in was Rowoon.

“Hey Y/N.” He said as he ruffled your hair.

“Hey Ro.” You said as you pushed him away.

“Am I the first one here?” He asked as he got comfortable on the couch.

“Yep. Juho should be here soon, but you beat him here.” You laughed a little as you texted Juho that he was now late. You and Rowoon talked about their upcoming promotions for their new album, and he was excited. They were going to go to the salon to get their hair dyed in a couple of days. Soon the rest of the guys came in. As you were getting ready for the members to go inside, you tasked them with deciding on who would go in the booth first. After a quick session of rock-paper-scissors, Juho was the first to go in. When he started to record his parts, you were happy he knew the tone that you wanted for their song, and he ended his parts quickly. Rowoon was next, only needing a little coaching on what needed to be emphasized and what didn’t, and soon he was done.

As recording continued, you were coaching the guys on things that needed to be changed, and Juho worked on putting the song together so you wouldn’t have to after they all left. When they all took a break, Juho let you listen to what he’d put together, and it sounded really good. You both were talking about what needed to be added, and the both of you worked through the break.

After the song was recorded, they all decided to go out to eat to celebrate, inviting you along since you helped to complete their new comeback album. As you got ready, you saw the vice president at your door. He was asking to speak with you.

After your meeting, you decided to call a raincheck on the boys, you definitely didn’t want to go out in the mood you were in now. And you had a lot of work to do now. FNC was planning on debuting another group, and wanted you to help train them. And they were in need of a new song, one from your old song book. So you needed to record a demo for them to practice to, for their debut. All the boys were sad, hoping to hang out with their old friend, but you promised them that you’d hang with them soon.

As the new group, Junoesque, prepared for their debut, you helped them prepare. You were exhausted, actually beyond exhausted. You’d helped them perfect their dance and get their vocals stable while they’re dancing. And you produced and wrote all their songs that would end up on their debut album. You and Taeyang helped choreograph their dances so you at least got to see some of your friends, but before long, you were stuck in the studio again working one more songs.

It was almost 2 months after O Sole Mio had been released and you still hadn’t had time to see any of your friends in SF9. You’d see them every once and awhile when they were going to practice, or when they were leaving. You’d gotten pretty lonely, only seeing people when they came to record some parts for their songs. So when you finally had a day off, you decided to spend it at home. And luckily so did SF9. You’d gotten a text from Youngbin saying that they’d gave them a day off, well Rowoon had to film today for his upcoming drama, but no one else had any schedule for today. You quickly replied that you were also free today, and that you’d like to FINALLY hang out with your friends. And not to long after that, you heard a bunch of knock on your door. Laughing, you opened your door to see your 8 best friends all trying to fit through your door at the same time.

There were multiple hellos and pushing to get through the door all at once. You saw Juho standing in the back, with Inseong and Youngbin, looking at all the boys. Eventually they all fell onto the floor and entered your apartment.

“Hey guys.” You giggled as you walked into the kitchen.

“Y/N! We missed you!” You heard Dawon yell after they all had taken off their shoes. And soon you were developed into a big group hug. After you’d hugged all the guys, you all decided on watching a movie and ordering take out. So while Jaeyoon and Inseong were out to get some snacks, you and Youngbin ordered enough food for everyone.

After everyone had gotten back, you were settled on the couch with Jaeyoon, Hwiyoung, and Chani. Dawon, Taeyang, and Inseong were on the opposite couch. And Zuho and Youngbin were on the floor, comfortable with a bunch of blankets and pillows. And then there was a knock at the door, which was weird because you wasn’t expecting anyone else since Rowoon was filming. So when you opened the door, you were surprised to see Rowoon standing there.

“Miss me?” He asked as he stepped through the door and pulled you in for a hug.

“Oh wow. I thought you were supposed to be filming!” You said as you pulled him closer in your shared hug.

“I was. But I finished early and saw that Youngbin was here since you finally have a day off.” He ruffled your hair, while you rolled your eyes.

“Come on, we have take out, snacks, and movies.” And that’s how you got comfortable with all your best friends in your living room, having a much deserved break. But sadly, you had to return to work early in the morning.

As soon as you stepped into your studio, you were called to a meeting about Junoesque and about their comeback concept, and what kind of sound FNC wanted them to have. You were in this meeting for almost 3 hours, most of it was after the group had left, so you could speak to the president and some of the other producers after their concept had been decided. When you finally returned to your studio, you just laid on your couch, head in the cushions, wanted to sleep for eternity. You now had to write at least 7 new songs to put on their album. And that’s how Juho and Chani found you. You had been laying there for almost an hour, just wanting to get everything done so you wouldn’t have to do it later, but you just couldn’t write. You had no inspiration. You’d asked if you could use some of the other songs that you’d wrote, but they wanted something fresh off your brain.

“Y/N?” You heard Juho ask as you heard someone sit in your chair.

“Leave me be. I’m fine.” You said as you turned to look at the 2 boys.

“You look like you could use a break.” Chani said as Juho smiled a little.

“I can’t. I haven’t even started yet.” You sighed as you rolled over and ran your hands over your face.

“Well you’re obviously not gonna get anything done by this, so come get some food with us and maybe we can help you.” Juho said as he pulled you up.

“Fine.” You sighed as you put your shoes on and walked with the boys to the coffee shop that wasn’t too far from the company. As you ordered your usual, you saw some of the girls in Junoesque sitting in a booth. You waved at them, as you walked towards the booth that Juho and Chani had taken while you went to get everyone’s drinks.

When you told them what you’d been tasked to do, Juho was surprised.

“They want a whole entire new album, written in 2 weeks? That’s crazy.” He said as he shook his head and ate some of the muffin he’d gotten.

“And they won’t take a look at any of the stuff you’ve written before?” Chani asked.

“Nope.” You sighed. “They said that they want it to be fresh and right off my brain.” You ran your hands over your face. “And that’s not all. They want me to put them as my priority, so that means that I’ll be there producer, almost solely.” You took a sip of your drink. “Which is fine, but if they do this every time they have a comeback I’ll be burned out.”

“Hey. It’s okay. Maybe you can get some help from other producers and me.” Juho suggested as you nodded your head.

“That sounds like a good idea. My studio’s a mess because I’ve been trying to listen to other music or look at something and get some sort of inspiration, but it didn’t work.”  You said as you saw one of the girls in the from Junoesque whisper something to the other girl beside her. You narrowed your eyes, but thought nothing of it. You hung out with Juho and Chani a little more, and ended up going back to your studio to write, since you thankfully had finally gotten some inspiration.

As you were writing in your studio when there was a knock.

“Come in.” You said as you turned towards the door. In came one of the girls of Junoesque, it was the leader. “Hi Mia. What can I do for you.” You asked as you turned back to your notebook.

“Uh. I don’t really need anything, but some of my members saw you earlier and I wanted to ask you something about it.” Mia said as she closed the door.

“Oh, I saw them when I was out with Juho and Chani.” You stated as you wrote down some more lyrics. “But what about it? I’ve known Juho since I was a trainee here. And I helped produce their last album.”

“Well, one of them said it looked like you were being too friendly with Juho, and I uh, just wanted to tell you.” This made you stop, putting down your pen, and turn around.

“Too friendly?” You asked as you narrowed your eyes.

“Yeah. They said that you looked like you were on a date with Juho, but that Chani was just there to make it seem like you weren’t on a date.” She said as she rubbed the back of her neck. “And she may have went to our manager and told them.” You groaned and rubbed your face.

“I’m guessing your manager went to the-” Just then you got a message to go to the president’s office. “Well nevermind. I got my answer.” You sighed, and got up to go to the office.

When you entered, there was Juho, sitting in one of the chairs, while the president sat behind his desk. As soon as you sat down, he started talking.

“I’m guessing you’re wondering why the both of you are here.” He said as he folded his hands on his desk. “Well, earlier I was informed that one of our newly debuted members seen the two of you out at one of the coffee shops near here. They said that you looked to be on a date, even though Chani seemed to be there.” He paused and looked at the two of you. “Now we both know that the two of you are some of our best producers here, and you’ve never caused a problem. But we can’t have this happening again.” He leaned back in his chair. You looked over at Juho, seeing that he was stone faced. “Y/N since you’re working on Junoesque’s new album you should be busy. And Zuho will soon be going on tour, so that shouldn’t be a problem. But until then, you two are to not be around each other, even if there is other people around. This is in public and in private.” He said as he sat up again. “Any questions?”

“What if Zuho is helping me work on some of Junoesque’s music?” You asked as you tried to look nonchalant.

“We’re planning on this album being solely produced by you, so Zuho or any other producer will not be helping you with their new album.” You nodded and looked away.

“Since there is no more questions, you both can leave.” He said as he stood up. The two of you stood as well, bowed, and left quickly. You tried to talk to Juho but he just walked away. You were worried about him, so you texted Youngbin about what happened. He texted you back that he’d look after him and that it’d be fine.

As the weeks went on, you grew more worried as none of the guys in SF9 talked to you any. If they’d see you in the hallway, they’d just walk by you, barely even looking at you. As you finished Junoesque’s album, and then you were tasked with helping them learn the choreography that the choreographer made for their title song. And then not too long after they’d perfected it, Junoesque was making their comeback. When you started working with AOA to release their new album, was when one of your oldest friends in the company decided to finally talk to you. At first it was Rowoon. He’d caught you in an empty dance studio, just laying on the ground looking at the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” He asked as he came into the room.

“I’m surprised that you’re talking to me.” You said as you refused to look at him.

“Yeah well, it was either ignore you or get in a lot of trouble.” He said as he came closer. “But you didn’t answer my question.” He leaned over you.

“Well. I just got done with a dance that I’ve been instructed to help the choreographer with.” You said as you threw your arm over your face.

“Why are you helping choreograph? You’re a producer.”

“I’m glad you realize that, but ever since that shit with Juho they’ve been working me to the bone. I haven’t had a day off since that one we had when we all were at my apartment watching movies.” And that was almost the 2 and a half months ago.

“Really?!” He was surprised. “They haven’t let you rest at all?”

“Not for more than a couple hours. I’ve resulted to sleeping in my recording studio and avoiding people as much as I can.” You said as you struggled to turn over.

“You need to ask for some time off.” He said as he helped you roll over. “You really look like shit.” He laughed a little, but stopped when you didn’t laugh.

“I should but I can’t. They’ve really been on me since the whole situation. My manager agrees that I need to do everything they ask for so that I can do the things I want.” You got up from the floor and stumbled, thankfully Rowoon caught you before you fell.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight too. Y/N you really need to start caring for yourself. You look like you’re about to waste away.” He said as you got your footing again.

“I’ll be okay.” You said as you started towards the door. “I’m guessing y’all have practice to I’ll leave.” You were almost at the door when the rest of them started to come in. The first in was Dawon, he was joking around with Jaeyoon. But the two of them froze when they got through the door. Inseong and Youngbin were next. Youngbin saw you and his eyes widened. You slid through the door before the rest of them got there. As you disappeared, you didn’t see the looks that all of them were sending you. They were worried, especially when Rowoon told them what you had told him.

The next time you saw any of the guys with SF9 was when you were in a meeting for their next album. You were sat across from them, and you could see all of them looking at you every once and awhile. You and Juho were the two who talked the most, since you both produced. When the meeting ended, they decided that you would only help produce some of the songs. Since they wanted to Juho to produce most of the songs on this album. When you were leaving, Youngbin stopped you.

“Hey Y/N wait!” He yelled after you and ran to catch up with you.

“Hey Youngbin.” You said as you continued to walk back to your studio.

“We’ve been wanting to hang out, but you’ve been so busy.” He said as he caught up to you.

“Yeah. I’ve been really busy.” You said as you reached your studio. “But we can hang out later. I’ll be helping with the album a little.” You patted his shoulder and went into your studio, shutting the door before he could say anything else. You sighed and felt like you wanted to cry. You didn’t know why they were trying to talk to you again after ignoring you for so long. You heard Youngbin say something to Inseong, and then they both walked away.

Youngbin’s POV:

“What did she say?” Inseong asked. He sighed and shook his head.

“She’s really closed off now, but she said that we would hang out when she’s helping work on the album.” He ran his hand over his face. “I’m worried about her.”

“I know Binnie. We all are.” Inseong patted his shoulder and they walked away from her studio. When they got to the dorm, all the guys were sitting there, waiting on the run down of what Y/N had said. When the 2 oldest entered, everyone knew by the look on their face that it wasn’t anything good.

“She said she’d hang out when she’s helping with the album, but she’s not looking so good.” He said as he sat on the couch. “She’s really closed off, and I’m guessing that’s because we wasn’t talking to her because of our managers.”

“Then why don’t we tell her?” Taeyang asked as he pulled the pillow in his lap closer to his chest.

“Well we could, but she might think that we cared more about our image rather than our friendship. Especially with Rowoon and Juho.” Inseong said as he looked over at the 2 boys sitting on the couch. Juho had been really quiet since everything happened. He had tried to tell the president what had really happened, but he’d already decided what he wanted to do. So when he told the 2 of you that he didn’t want you near each other, he kinda just shut down. You’d been with him for the whole time when him and Rowoon were trainees. And you’d continuously supported them after their debut. You even stayed at FNC after your group disbanded, just so you could be around your friends. And he kinda felt like it was his fault. But the boys assured him that he’d done a good thing by taking you out to get some inspiration since you were obviously stressed out.

“I think she’ll understand. She’s been in a group before, and she’s still managed by FNC. And if she doesn’t then it’s gonna suck but she’ll eventually understand.” Jaeyoon said as he patted the 2 boy’s shoulders.

The next week were spent in the dance and recording studio. You mainly was in the dance studio helping Taeyang and Chani choreograph their title track while Zuho had the other members recording the final sound. When they were taking a break, Y/N peaked her head in.

“Oh hey Y/N!” Chani waved as he saw you.

“Hey guys.” She smiled a little and walked a little apprehensive towards them. “Where is everyone else?”

“They’re in Juho’s studio recording the final sound for our title song.” Taeyang said as he hugged her.

“Oh okay.” Y/N said as she sat down. “What are y’all doing?”

“We were choreographing our title song. But right now we’re taking a break.” You said as you leaned closer to Y/N.

“What do you have so far?” She asked as she leaned over to ruffle my hair. We all agreed and got up. I’m glad that Y/N was acting more like her old self. So we showed her the first verse, which was all we’d finished so far.

“It looks really good. And I like the song.” She complimented. We were about to answer her when the guys started coming in. And then she froze. All the guys greeted her, except Juho. You could tell she wanted to talk to him, especially about what had happened, but he’d been avoiding her more and more these days. You could visibly see her walls come up, and she sat over in a corner while we showed them what we had choreographed. Everyone would glance over at her, but she was writing in her lyric book. Since she’d been put as the producer for Junoesque, she has been writing non stop. Mainly because all of her songs were getting trashed by the vice president and president because they wanted a specific sound for them. Most times the guys felt bad because you’d made a few comments to some of the producers about how you think your producing wasn’t as good as it used to be. You usually could find her holed up in her studio for days at a time, getting food sent to her recording studio so that she wouldn’t have to leave. She even had her manager bring her clothes so that she could change since she’d sleep in her studio as well. This just made all of the guys worry more because you were overworking yourself and you wouldn’t stop until something drastic happened.

Y/N’s POV:

I was sitting in my studio when a knock came to my door.

“Come in.” You said quietly, seeing as you were getting sick. You turned to see Juho and Rowoon enter. “Hey guys.” You said as you tried to suppress your coughs.

“Hey Y/N. We wanted to talk to you.” Rowoon said as Juho just stared at you.

“Okay.” You said as you put your pen down, closing your notebook, and turned towards them. “What’s up?” You asked as you cleared your throat.

“Well, we first wanted to talk about the whole separation situation.” Juho said, which really surprised you since he hadn’t talked to you since you were at the coffee shop together with Chani.

“Okay..” You said as you leaned back some in your chair.

“I first wanted to apologize.” Juho started as he started to play with the rings on his fingers. “When I got to the president’s office, I tried to explain to him what had actually happened. But he didn’t want to listen, since he’d already made up his mind. When he said we couldn’t hang out anymore, he made sure that both of our managers knew and made us so busy that we couldn’t hang out or talk to each other. As time went on, and after we got back from tour, we saw how small you’d gotten and how tired you were. We were, and still are, very worried about you.” He looked up and saw the bags under your eyes and your red nose. “We know you’re sick right now. So we wanted to give you as little work as possible.” He said as he smiled a little at you.

“You guys don’t have to do that.” You said as you shifted to get comfortable in your chair. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well that’s the thing.” Rowoon started. “We all know that you’ve been sleeping here. You order take out here so that you don’t have to leave. It’s been so long since you’ve been home and don’t say it hasn’t because all the guys have seen your manager coming in and out of your apartment, even your neighbor asked if you were fine.” He said as he put his hands over yours and pulled you close. “All of us have been friends for so long. We knew each other better than anyone. So we know that you’re lying. So please, actually go home tonight and get some rest. We plan on making dinner tonight, and bringing it to your apartment.” You sighed and squeezed Rowoon’s hands. And you reluctantly agreed.

So the rest of the day you did as little as you could while you were helping Juho with the songs. When you went home, you felt worse than you had before. You were sure you had a fever by now. When you looked in your cabinet for some medicine, but it seemed like the last time you’d gotten sick you had taken all of your medicine. You sighed and decided to just wait and text Rowoon to bring over some medicine, and a fever reducer, when he came over. He texted you with a thumbs up and you decided to clean up your house since you hadn’t been home in awhile. As you were cleaning you started to feel a little week, which wasn’t unusual since you’d been overworking yourself. But it was different now, this time you felt nauseous. Before you could grab ahold of anything, you felt yourself start to fall. And the last thing you saw was your world turning black.

[graciecatfamilyband]

I saw somewhere that today is fanfic author appreciation day! I am unsure if this is accurate or not, but assuming that it is, I would like to take a moment to say: I appreciate you, my beloved fanfic author friend!!

My Dearest Tachiisms,

It was in fact fanfic author appreciation day when you sent this (August 21)! I deeply appreciate this gesture of appreciation from you, my RP friend. :) 

I am going to use this opportunity to say that that day- usually a day of great joy for me, as someone who has loved many works for fanfiction since I began reading it two years ago- was a bit of a hard day for me. My relationship with the fan fiction community (at least within the community I currently write in) has changed considerably in the last year and, on top of that, I have not written nearly as much as I have wanted to (or, to be honest, read as much as I wanted to either). 

The good things that I did get to reflect on for Fanfic Appreciation Day:

Getting to beta the work of @mary-twig. We are going slowly in terms of putting the finishing touches on the remaining chapters, but she has a very sweet and spicy Han/Leia story in progress right now, and I’m very excited for audiences to get to experience some upcoming dialogue and sexual tension. It’s been an honor to get to be there with a young writer as she develops her style and learns how she wants to story-tell, and I’m so impressed how she manages to navigate the differences between English and her native language. (Check out her FF.net page here.)

Betaing the final installment of @organanation‘s Wild West AU. I was so impressed at her continued growth in writing period, her ability to create imagery in a world she created, her ability to effectively write action scenes that did the job more than well but weren’t excessively long (i.e. they kept my attention, and made me laugh and cheer, and I sometimes struggle with paying attention to those!), and her continued mastery of romance and sexual tension. I owe her some reviews, but the final, short chapter of the story is probably my absolute favorite part and a must-read for any Han/Leia fan. The flirty, saucy, playful romance of it, so Han/Leia, and yet such a happy ending. Having the privilege to do all the nitpicking on the story while she does the heavy lifting has been a joy. (FF.net page here.)

Continuing to admire the sheer productivity of @lajulie24, her ability to do so much in such a short space, and to integrate themes that speak to me with excellent characterization and great plot. (And now she does mood boards? Amazing!) Just a very impressive writer on many spectrums. (AO3 page here.)

@jediofgrace​ For her writing, and for nerding out with me about what makes stories work and what speaks to readers, and for writing with a sense of humor and detail. She is an equally great writer and reader. (FF.net page here.)

@jainadurron​ who shared some interesting, honest, in-depth, and thoughtful discussions about writing, story-telling, characterization, etc. with me. I deeply appreciated them. (I especially recommend  her NJO fic The Road to Recovery and her AU An Alderaanian Love Story.)

@swimmergirl71​ who took the plunge from reader into writer this year, with great results. So many “readers” have worlds within them that they carry inside for fear of looking foolish or being incapable if they put them to paper, and it’s so thrilling when they actually share them with us. Thanks for doing so swimmergirl, and I hope you will feel free to share more in the future. (FF.net page here). 

@smugglerofsass’s unique point of view, commitment to exploring the depths of Han’s inner world, and ability to take any given piece music and turn it into Han/Leia scenes. I hope she will keep posting snippets of whatever she wants to work on or is in her head at a given moment, as well as keep working on some of those MCs she taunts us with. (Her FF.net page is here, but really, she puts so much on Tumblr only!) 

@otterandterrier‘s Scoundress Saturday, which provides such a great opportunity for people to try their hand at writing in a low-pressure and accepting space! This is a true treasure of the Han/Leia community. Fanfiction is, to me, about “everyone can do it”, and Scoundress Saturday, to me, makes people really feel like that is so. (Although all types of content and its creators are welcome! But I particularly enjoy how well it attracts fic writers.) It’s also just great to have an organized place where one can see Han/Leia fanfic weekly. Thanks to Dessi for all the work she puts into making it happen for everyone. 

@otterandterrier​ herself (check out her writing blog @otterandterrierwrites​ ), who has remained committed to her foc writing while finishing major RL writing tasks. I wouldn’t know where to start on reccing her last year’s worth of work because it’s so varied and so good, but I’ve particularly enjoyed seeing Han and Leia getting to know each other in the bedroom, Leia attempting to meditate, and that time Han asked Leia to marry him. (AO3 here.)

@yoyomarules an incredibly talented writer whose mastery of dialogue and sense of humor make her a must read! I am so woefully behind on her work, but I am so grateful I discovered her this year. Again, too hard to recommend a specific work, because it’s all so good! (AO3 page here.) 

@inelegantprose whose dedication to exploring the themes which most interest her in varied, never-ending, and never ever boring ways, and with such skill, is a breath of fresh air (or, because of the heaviness of some of the writing, a gust of storm wind! but either way- bracing, making an impact, different from one’s usual experience, etc.). The Lynnie ‘verse and what comes next particularly  stand out to me, but I have such admiration for her as a writer. I also appreciate her willingness to talk openly about the themes she thinks about and how they become part of her writing, her enthusiasm about connecting with other writers, and her extreme dedication to her readers even with many personal real life challenges. (FF.net page here.) 

@madame-alexandra, one of the first fanfic writers whose kept me returning again and again to an MC and finally forced me to share my thoughts in the form of a review because I was too obsessed. (And who therefore made me into the kind of reader who reviews!) I also admire the way she takes care of herself and her ability to write by setting her own boundaries and limits with what she’s able to do and engage with. I loved the fic she gifted me with this year, and am just overwhelmed (in a good way) by the varied content she produces so consistently. (FF.net page here.)

@onwardintolight whose dedication to working quietly on The Opening behind-the-scenes until enough is finished and it is consistent enough that she’s ready to start posting it again is something I appreciate regularly without her knowing it. :) It is hard to be a fanfic writer who does not post very much, especially when writing a whole multichpater that people can’t see recent progress on. I admire @onwardintolight, adore The Opening, can’t wait for more, and appreciate her lyricism and attention to psychological detail. And admittedly, she is an amazing cosplayer! (FF.net page here.)

@ashlynncoy‘s Misfire ‘Verse is a stand-out for sure, especially for . those of us who love Bail and Breha Organa and imagining them interacting with Han. However, I also hold a special place in my heart for writers and stories who can allow or give Han or Leia previous romances, especially in a way that deepens or strengthens their relationship with each other, and she stands out to me as someone consistently able to do this (and who does it repeatedly despite attracting a lot of ugliness for it). (FF.net page here.) 

@followfire who does not think of themselves as a writer (although they are a great reader!) but who nevertheless gave us this. I know you have fic ideas, and I hope you will write more, if it will bring you joy to do so!

@not-a-committee I’ve never stopped thinking about this. 

@corellianangel’s consistent creativity is also full of delights. Still thinking about General Distraction tbh. (AO3 here, but she’s another one with many Tumblr-specific gems!) 

 @winterbythesea this continues to haunt me, in a good way.

@amilynh Her forays into writing, enjoyment of engaging in the psychological depths of Leia, and constant support as a beta and thinker of character and plots and things, as well as her Rebel fanfics, are impressive and I am grateful for them.  (AO3 page here.)

@chancecraz​ You’ve heard of her, and rightfully. There’s nothing I could add. Her writing is really something- the character work, the prose, the detail, the imagery- I recommend it!!!! (AO3 here.)

@alderaanallday You silent gremlin, I see you. :) You may write only under extreme duress, but my writing would not be the same without your beta work. I can’t emphasize enough how many times commenters have said “oh, I loved this detail!” and I have had to tell them, “Oh, @alderaanallday came up with that one!” I hope they believe me. ILY. 

@aloemilk, who is not part of the Han/Leia or Star Wars fandom (Luke Skywalker who?), but who is a great Romione writer and, and generally all around great person. Great companion as we walk this fanfic road. (AO3 here)

@fanfictionwriter101​ I’ve been really enjoying this (also non SW/non HL) individual and their commitment to that fanfic life. Enjoyed that they’ve started to offer some writing challenges too!

You all inspire in me in one way or another and help me tap into my own creativity. I admire each of your efforts and successes. I am privileged to be part of some of your creative processes. Thank you for being fanfic writers and for sharing your fantastical inner worlds with us! 

If you read any of these writers (and you should!) please, absolutely, positively thank them for writing by leaving them a comment or sending them a message to let them know you enjoyed their work! It’s the best way to feed a writer. :) 

[emberfaye]

OK! for the time-themed fanfic asks: monday, saturday, march, august, september, november, minutes, tomorrow, today, forever (As ever, I know I asked a ridiculous amount because I'm a curious little thing, so if it's overwhelming, just pick the ones that you want to answer!) (Tumblr told me it ate the first one I submitted, so sorry if you're actually getting this twice)

Oooh thank you for these fanfic asks!

monday: do you struggle with the ‘boring’ parts of writing?What do you mean by boring? Like, editing? Formatting? I dislike formatting. Irarely edit (I know, I am awful and always regret it). So I guess yes.

saturday: what gets you excited whilst writing?When I’m sitting there and realize that I made an accidental parallel and hopesomeone sees it, or I drop in a little “easter egg”. I also love when I figurea character out for the first time, and nail their voice and get better atwriting them.

march: do you listen to music whilst writing?Definitely. I rarely write in silence. Usually I put it on a Pandora stationlike Loreena Mckennett, josh groban, instrumental, p!nk, or Lana del rey.Sometimes I write with a song on repeat, if it is a short story and veryintense.

august: are any of your fics associated with certaingenres/artists/songs/etc? I do have a really old Goku/Chichi from DBZ that is a songfic to a countrysong. My post Ride the Storm Cassie book is titled after a lostprophetssong/lyrics, and I have been outlining and plotting a Sakura (Naruto) storythat uses a certain artist’s playlist as a backdrop to her life.

september: share a comment or review which still warms your heart?“Thank you for all the brief yet meaningfulJxA moments of domesticity. And your writing – you softly add detail afterdetail like a painter’s gentle brushstrokes on a canvas. Lovely.Of course I will gladly read an 8th, 9th and any otherpossible chapter you may add in the future :)”

november: do you have any rituals or requirements for getting in themood for writing?Not really. Other than putting on Pandora. I used to love writing withheadphones. Like, the ones that go over your head like DJs wear. Made me feelmore prepared.

minutes: how long does it normally take you tocomplete a fic?Oh shoot way to call me out. =P So. If we count the actual literal writingportion where my hands are on the keyboard and my fingers are moving, I canwrite about 3k or so in an hour. Most of my longer one shots take less than 3hours to be written. I however tend to split those three hours into a few days,and do half and half. That’s if I actually finish something lol. I don’t knowthat I’ve ever finished a chapter story urgh.

tomorrow: favouriteways to write fluff?Hm…I’m not sure how to answer it. I love established relationship fluff, wherethere’s a level of understanding but also still getting surprised by theirpartner being sweet. I love to add a dose of humor or angst into it because I’mthat bitch.

today: have you madeany progress in any wips today?Yes, actually! I wrote about 1200 words and finished a one-shot. I’m waitingfor a beta reader to look it over and then I’m gonna post it.

forever: do you balance fic writing with originalconcept stuff?It’s not equally balanced, but I do write and work on original stories. Iusually attempt them mostly around the Nano events, but I’m trying to getbetter and get stuff published soon so I’m trying to finish up my fanfic WIPsand then devote a bit more time to orginal stuff so that I can do both better.=)

Never, ever apologize for asking a ton of questions, I love it and it means you actually care.