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blueindigo17 · 10 months ago

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hi writeblr!! it's nice to meet you!!

I’ve had this blog for years but never posted anything bc to be honest I was a little afraid of tumblr when I first joined, but recently I decided that since I like talking about my wips so much to my friends/family irl, why not blog about them? I also want to find some writing mutuals, since I like hearing about people’s stories just as much as I like telling them about mine. Feel free to interact, follow, message, etc. I love making friends :D

About me <3

I go by Blue or BlueIndigo online, so feel free to use either of those :)

My pronouns are she/her

I’m 19, which also happens to be my favorite number :)

I have five (sort of six?) wips and over a hundred characters. I may have a problem.

I am a BIG swiftie (favorite albums are 1989 TV and TTPD), and I listen to a lot of Sabrina Carpenter, Conan Gray, Olivia Rodrigo, 5SOS, The Scarlet Opera, Chappell Roan, and Gracie Abrams.

I love reading!! My favorite books are Carrie Soto Is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid (my fav author) and She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen.

I've played ukulele for a few years, and I recently started learning guitar. there's a greater than zero chance I might post any music things in the future. ig we'll see.

I have a thing where my wip titles have to make good acronyms or I don’t use them. idk why either.

I can and will talk your ear off if you let me lol. #blueindigo says things for non-wip related stuff <3

tag games are an ABSOLUTE YES my personal brand of yapping is answering questions

I like to write…

Realistic/contemporary fiction

Young adult/new adult

LGBTQ+ characters

Coming of age

Romance

Friend groups/found family

otherwise just people being people :)

More about my wips below !!

My WIPs

Never Have We Ever (NHWE)

Tags: #wip: never have we ever #wip: NHWE

Summary: Liz has the best friends a girl could ask for. Harley, Mikey, and Natasha have been her people since elementary school, and Trevor and Amanda since middle school. Their whole lives, things have been pretty much the same. Same kids in their classes every year. Same streets between the same houses. Same, same, same. At the end of her freshman year of high school, just about when Liz is wondering how much same she could possibly handle, she catches Trevor’s eye as he laughs at someone’s joke, and something deep inside her lights up. Something she doesn’t know what to do with. Something she can't push back down once it comes barreling up to the surface. So much for same. After that, things can’t stop changing. And not just in her own life—her friend group starts pulling apart at the seams. Harley begins withdrawing from everyone with no explanation. Mikey gets in bigger trouble with his dad than ever. Natasha only has a year before she has to move off to college. Amanda is stuck between the person she is and the person the world wants her to be. Trevor seems to have gotten off easy, but Liz can’t be around him for more than a minute without falling head over heels all over again. In this collection of short stories, Liz has to wonder if the change of pace she thought she wanted is worth it. Sometimes it’s hard to be brave, and she’s never been the most open to change, but unfortunately, that does not stop it from happening. The only question is: what is she going to do about it?

Genres: short stories, realistic fiction, young adult, coming of age, contemporary Themes: found family, first crushes, dealing with change, growing up, maintaining friendships Characters: Liz Stanton 🩵, Harley Wilson 💚, Mikey Miller 💛, Natasha Knightley 💜, Trevor Marshall ❤️, Amanda Hamilton 🩷

NHWE is my oldest WIP, started on December 16, 2019. It’s been on ice lately, since the plot has gone through so many changes that I haven’t known what to do with it in a while, but one of my goals with posting about it is to warm myself back up to it. I think writing that summary was a good place to start. Wish me luck :D

The Together List (TTL)

Tags: #wip: the together list #wip: TTL

Summary: Audrey is in her first month of college. Within three weeks, she’s moved out of her childhood bedroom and into a room with a window that seems to open on its own and a door that creaks loud enough to wake up the whole floor, she’s stumbled into a friend group that seemed to pull itself together like drawstrings, and she’s gotten a job at an adorable independent milkshake shop with her roommate and one of her new friends. What more could she possibly ask for? The world, it seems. Audrey has a list ten miles long of all the little things she wants college to be. One night, she starts listing them out loud. Her friends—Logan, Lennon, McKinley, Aspen, and Levi—chime in with their own after a moment, and before anyone knows it it’s been three hours and they haven’t stopped. They aren’t even sure whose idea it is, but they start writing it down. Every box on this ridiculously decorated list will be checked off by the end of the year, they swear. Someone makes an Instagram account as a joke, but by the first post it’s become as serious an endeavor as they’ve ever had. They wouldn’t call themselves local celebrities, but they certainly wouldn’t correct you if you did. The thing about fame at this age, even at small amounts, is that it's bound to go to someone's head...

Genres: realistic fiction, young adult fiction, new adult fiction, coming of age, LGBTQ+ fiction Themes: LGBTQ+, friendships, fame, college, becoming an adult, relationships Characters: Audrey Marshall 💙, Logan Levine 🧡, Lennon Adler 💛, McKinley March 💜, Aspen Brady ❤️, Levi Jackson 💚

TTL was created on August 18, 2021. I saw a post on Pinterest of someone's summer bucket list and that sounded like such a fun thing to do with friends that I had to write about it. Two and a half-ish years later, TTL has also gone through many changes, so I'm sort of trying to refresh it now. I'm very excited to see where it takes me!

(Fun fact: the main character, Audrey, is the older sister of Trevor from NHWE!)

The Violet Sisters Club (TVSC)

Tags: #wip: the violet sisters club #wip: TVSC

Summary: The Violet Sisters Club, a world famous all-female pop rock band, is facing a very public lawsuit from a former hotheaded manager over their most recent album. Following the conclusion of their case, lead singer Naomi Tyler, drummer Inez Wilde, guitarist Chrissy Cameron, and bassist Francesca Sheridan escape to the luxurious Overlook Estate, a privately owned rental property on an island off the southern coast of California. Here, they can spend the summer out of the public eye, writing songs they don’t need to worry about releasing and letting the public wonder what they’re up to as they let the tension out of their muscles. With a property four times the size of Alcatraz Island and a beach over a mile long, the Overlook offers the band a respite from the go, go, go of touring, the privacy invasion of paparazzi, and the exhaustion of being micromanaged every minute of every day. Four pools, seven hot tubs, the aforementioned private beach, a high tech recording studio (just in case), a few golf carts just to get around the property and a Jeep to get to town. It’s unimaginably expensive, it’s incomprehensibly big, and it’s everything they need. But this escape may not be the relaxing California beach paradise they imagined. Soon, it becomes hard to hide how much the stress of fame was eating away at each of them—emotions run high, patiences run thin, days run long, nights run longer, and the strength of the band is questioned as the girls’ insecurities and anxieties bubble to the surface after a lifetime in the spotlight.

Genres: realistic fiction, contemporary fiction, literary fiction Themes: fame, music, romance, found family, secrets, breakups Characters: Naomi Tyler (lead singer, songwriter) 💜, Inez Wilde (drummer, vocalist, songwriter) 🩷, Chrissy Cameron (guitarist, vocalist, songwriter) 💙, Francesca Sheridan (bassist, vocalist, songwriter) 💚

TVSC was created on February 5, 2023, but the characters have been around almost as long as TTL. Initially, I created the Violet Sisters Club as a fictional band that would exist within The Together List, but at some point I couldn't get the idea of a TVSC-focused novel out of my head. I'm glad I never did, because some of my favorite ideas I've ever had have gone into TVSC. If I could have one wish, it would be for all of TVSC's songs to be real so I could listen to them without having to write them first.

Now That We Don’t Talk (NTWDT)

Tags: #wip: now that we don’t talk #wip: NTWDT

Summary: There are two important things to know about Hazel Henry and Saiah Bradford. One: They kinda-sorta hate each other after they broke up last year at prom. (The same prom that ended with the school almost burning down and Hazel's twin brother's best friend going to the hospital. Bad memories all around.) Two: Someone on the planning committee for their senior class trip must be out to get them, because when they arrive at the hotel, they find out they’ve been assigned to the same room. This should have been impossible; Saiah requested to be paired with her best friend, Tory, who's going to have some explaining to do later, and Hazel would bet her life on the fact that she requested a room alone. Now, for the next two weeks, they’re both stuck in the same narrow room with its little square bathroom and practically-nonexistent privacy. The air conditioner turns on at random times, they seem to be paired together for every single scheduled activity, and perhaps worst of all—their friends all seem to find this situation absolutely hilarious. But it’s just two weeks, right? It’ll be over before they know it, and soon they can both go back to pretending their relationship—and each other—never existed. Right? Right? Happy senior year to them.

Genres: realistic fiction, young adult fiction, contemporary fiction, LGBTQ+ fiction, romance Themes: reconciliation, romance, friendship, forgiveness, guilt, regrets, family, growing up Characters: Hazel Henry 🩷, Nick Henry 💙, Saiah Bradford 💚, Tory Whitehouse 💛

NTWDT was created on October 18, 2023. Hilariously, I came up with the plot after making Hazel and Saiah in the Sims, and I literally couldn't stop thinking about them whenever I wasn't playing. As I do with every character I create, I became obsessed with them, and now here we are. And in case you're wondering, yes, I named it after the Taylor Swift song lol.

Trouble In Paradise (TIP)

Tags: #wip: trouble in paradise #wip: TIP

Summary: Sixteen years ago, Joe Alexander and Ben King drove across the US in the pursuit of Joe's true love. Today, Joe is preparing to move out of his and his ex-wife's house and drive across the country once more, joined by his daughter, Bryce, and his best friend/his daughter's biological father, Ben. It's all familiar—the long stretches of empty fields, collapsing onto a cheap hotel bed for the night, never being able to decide where to stop for food—and yet, Joe has no idea what he's in for. This is a story of two cross-country road trips, and the lives that one woman is able to ruin in between. Joe Alexander and Ben King have both lost their entire worlds to Lilly Alexander. But the ones they’ve gained after her might be—in some weird, unconventional way—a little better.

Genres: realistic fiction, contemporary fiction, adult fiction, literary fiction Themes: reconciliation, moving on, guilt, parenting, cheating, manipulation, mental illness, past sexual assault Characters: Joe Alexander, Ben King, Bryce Alexander, Lilly Alexander

TIP is technically my newest WIP, since I came up with the full plot earlier this year (February 13, 2024). I've had the vague idea of it for just over a year, but I didn't quite know what to do with it until recently. It's definitely more mature with its topics than my other wips, as you might be able to tell by the themes, but I really like the concept and I've had a lot of fun plotting it so far, even if it's a little out of my comfort zone.

(Fun fact: the original title way back when the characters didn't even have last names was High Infidelity, after the Taylor Swift song, since I thought it was so thematically appropriate.)

···

OKAY I'm pretty sure I have officially run out of things to say. If you made it all the way here, thank you so much for reading! Like I said earlier, feel free to interact any way you like :D

This post is sort of a masterpost for all my wips, but I'm also doing posts for each wip separately so I can go into more detail. Those are/will be linked in the title for each wip.

Thanks again for reading, and have a good day/night !!

―BlueIndigo <3

#writeblr intro #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #wip intro

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fishnamedsushi · 1 year ago

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On the nocturnal habits of Hamsphire’s elusive owls (Pt. 1)

[In which I cannot wait 3+ years for the Jane Austen flashbacks we *better* be getting in Season 3, so I made up my own.

Featuring, in no particular order: a secret smuggling ring, Aziraphale annoying the local wildlife, and Crowley making a new friend.]

In the remarkable quiet of her rather unremarkable Hampshire cottage, Miss Jane Austen had taken a defensive position behind her writing desk. Her quill, having downed one too many pints of ink, was weaving a delightful drunken waltz across parchment, breathing life into the characters of her latest work, although somewhat against its own will. However, even as her hand was forced to document the scandalous affairs of society balls and romantic mishaps, her keen mind was having a party of its own somewhere else.

Resting on a random corner of her desk, as if it had just wandered off from a dull social gathering, was a letter. While about as inconspicuous in appearance as a piece of parchment could be, the letter, much to the annoyance of her fictional characters, was the real protagonist in Jane's thoughts. With the execution of a final full stop, she finally allowed herself to eye the letter with her full attention.

"An intriguing little fellow, isn't it?" she mumbled to the four walls. Her fingers gingerly navigated the unfamiliar terrain of the fine linen paper with a hint of the trepidation you'd feel before opening a suspiciously ticking box. It wasn't the typical love letter from a fan or a persuasive piece from a money-hungry publisher. No, it had all the trappings of a secret thriller, without any of the appropriate background music.

Without further ado, she rose, pushing the chair back with the aplomb of a magician revealing his final trick. She tread across the room, the wooden floorboards protesting beneath her feet. At the fireplace, a fire, the warmth of which was doing a poor job of countering the cool British draught, crackled in varying degrees of discontent.

She reached above the mantelpiece, where an innocent-looking set of her books sat. She selected one - a copy of 'Emma', rather fitting considering the meddling she herself was about to conduct. The book, in reality, was not a book at all, but a cleverly disguised secret box. It opened to reveal a fine selection of ciphering tools, looking as if they belonged more in the hands of a learned detective than a gentlewoman of her standing. But then, appearances could be as deceiving as a flattery-spouting suitor.

Settling back at her desk, she retrieved the coded message and the cipher from 'Emma's' secretive interior, the two entities meeting like old friends who had many a scandalous tale to share. Her quill, recharged after its dramatic performance earlier, dived headfirst into the decoding process. Decrypting was a favorite pastime, her mind working as smoothly as a well-oiled conspiracy theory, and with far more proficiency than the Reddit-that-would be. This was a world that operated in the shadows, where Miss Austen, the revered author, metamorphosed into "J" the underappreciated secret agent.

"Why, this is most bewildering," she muttered. Words emerged, and altogether made no sense: consignment, midnight, rookery?

Then, like the striking of a well-tuned piano, it hit her. "A gathering of local intelligentsia?" she read aloud, her eyes widening with recognition. An idea began to form, as enticing as a plot twist in a novel, as she connected the dots.

"Mrs. Norris, we are off to a soirée!" she announced to her cat, who responded with the kind of disdain only felines and dowager countesses can muster.

In the next room, a clock chimed the eleventh hour, its sound seeming as out of place as a cucumber sandwich at a demon's feast. Time, it seemed, had a knack for making itself known when least welcome, much like a nosy neighbor who'd decided to 'pop by' right when you're in the middle of something terribly important.

"Dear me, look at that," Jane tutted. "Agent Austen, it seems your services are once again required." It was less a murmur and more of a statement that demanded a whimsical score in the background. With the decoding done, she reached for a bottle of disappearing ink. She quickly scribed a response, her hand elegantly conveying her words of acknowledgement and confirmation, weaving in coded phrases as easily as Mr. Bingley danced at a ball.

Her task complete, she sealed the letter with a wax emblem. The insignia, a simple-looking quill, was as deceptive as the rest of her evening had been. She surveyed her work, a smug satisfaction twirling in her eyes. "Just a night in the life of Jane, the novelist slash spy for King and country," she announced, to the distinct lack of applause from her audience of one.

She then returned her attention to the half-written manuscript, her mind shifting from dangerous intrigue to witty banter at a society ball. "Why, Miss Austen, you are as enigmatic as a heroine in one of your own novels," she mused, adjusting her bonnet with a flourish. Just as well, Jane thought, exiting her chair, there was never a dull moment. As she often noted, life was a lot like her favorite stories. It was full of twists, turns, and drama. Except, life also had a tendency to go off script and demand rewrites at the oddest times.

She left her home with a bounce in her step, off to mingle with the intelligentsia and perhaps unmask a plot as twisted as any she could pen.

Mrs. Norris, left to her own devices, merely yawned and settled into a comfortable slumber, unimpressed by the human propensity for drama. After all, real intrigue involved strategically knocking objects off shelves, not gallivanting off to gatherings with intellectuals.

[Part 2 coming soon]

#good omens season 2 #good omens fic #good omens au #jane austen #good omens flashback #my writing #good omens #aziraphale #crowley

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cottegecorepanarabread · 4 years ago

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10 Things I Hate About Tsuki pt.4

I'm on the verge of a category 4 mental breakdown. I have not studied for my ap bio final on the 10th and 11th nor the ap bio exam on the 14. I wrote this tho. I hope you enjoy. Send me one shot requests if you want. as always a big thank you to the writers of 10 thing I hate about you

transition song 1- pink socks by mickey darling

transition song 2- go home. play music. feel better. by Michael Cera Palin

transition song 2- I forgot to take my meds today by Prince Daddy and The Hyena

“I’m starting to think like my car more than me Tsuki.” Tadashi laughed when they saw Tsuki leaning against their car again.

“What can I saw she’s beautiful.” Kei smirked.

“Assuming my car’s pronouns now huh. How will I ever forgive you.” Tadashi crossed their arms.

Sugawara and Akaashi came up behind Tadashi and laughed. Kei looked down in embarrassment.

“Is this guy bothering you Yama?” Suga said.

“No it’s fine.” Tadashi unlocked the car, “get in we’ll be done in a second.”

They climbed into the car leaving Tadashi and Kei alone again.

“Look I’m sorry if my friends embarrassed you. They can be a lot sometimes.” Tadashi’s suddenly turned sympathetic.

“I’m sorry too for possibly misgendering your car,” Tadashi snorted at that, “or you.”

Tadashi was touched. No one, other than family or friend, had ever felt that bad about misgendering them.

“I use he/they but on some days I lean more to one or the other. Today it’s they but you could really use either.”

“Thanks for telling me. Now will you tell me if you will go to Kuroo’s party with me.”

“You were just being nice to try and take me out. Why are you so annoying. I don’t understand.” Tadashi snapped.

“Pick you up at 9 then.”

“Shut the hell up”

You say you just wanna be friends

And I’m not mad, bitch I’m livid

So now I’ve been fucking all of your friends

Every night, cause I’m desperate

“Terushima!” Kei yelled down the hall.

“What do you want glasses?” Terushima spit back.

“He’s too much trouble. I don’t care if you want to rail his brother, but I was $100 a day if you want me to keep doing this.” Kei snapped.

He had Terushima against his locker and held him there with one arm.

“Fine just let go of me. I don’t want you ruining my perfect body for my photoshoot tomorrow.”

After being released, he handed Kei $600 for payment in advance. Kei smirked. He had Terushima in the palm of his hand.

I will not falter, I will not budge

I will stop trying to say it doesn’t matter so much

Take on a cause, hold for the applause

Impulsive vanity’s a common crutch

“Hi I’m Hinata,” he stuck his hand out to Kei, “So we are the real masterminds behind this operation. Terushima is just a pawn.”

“I asked him to pay you so Hinata could really date Kageyama.” Bokuto said.

They had stopped him during another science lab.

“Jesus Christ,” Kei muttered going back to the beakers in front of him.

“Wait, please, I can help. I’ll get Kageyama to tell me what Yamaguchi likes so you know what he likes.” Hinata grabbed his arm.

“Look,” Kei yanked Hinata’s hand off his arm, “I don’t care as long as I’m still getting paid.”

“Hey Kageyama I need your help. So I got this guy to try to take out Yamaguchi but I need to know what your brother likes.”

“You act like I care to know everything about them. Also it’s sibling not brother. We need to search their room.”

Later in Yamaguchi’s room, Hitana went through stacks of CDs as Kageyama rummaged through his closet and drawers.

“Why do they dress like this?” Kageyama sighed, “it’s like they don’t want anyone to date them.”

Hinata came to help Kageyama after making a list of bands.

“I mean it’s not that bad,” Hinata pulled an item out of the closet, “I would wear this.”

Kageyama blushed upon seeing the skirt he held up. It wasn’t anything against skirt wearing, no. He was just imagining Hinata’s legs in the skirt. No, bad brain!

Later that day Hinata handed Kei the list of likes. It included Wes Anderson films, punk and soft music, Vietnamese food, the color black, and…blonds. At the bottom of the list was a date: Prince Daddy and They Hyena at Club Skunk, April 24th. Kei shrugged. Why not go?

I forgot to take my meds today

I can’t believe it’s only Tuesday

Figures it hit me on the highway

I forgot to take my meds today

Kei walked into the club. He wished he had just stayed home. He definitely should have looked into the band before coming. Screams and heavy bass filled the room.

He went to the bar to get a water and hopped it would calm his nerves. He almost choked on his water when he saw Tadashi.

He bounced along to the song (I imagine it to be Trashville 1/3) while holding onto another boy’s arm. They sang along together. After the attitude, the outfit drew his attention next. He wore a cropped black turtleneck with black ripped mom jeans. His hair was up in a bun showing off his various piercings. Every time Tadashi raised his arms, the shirt revealed more of this chest.

Tadashi whispered something to his friend then made his way to the bar. Kei leaned his back against the bar. Tadashi saw him and rolled his eyes.

“Are you following me?” Tadashi snapped crossing his hands over his chest.

“Can’t I just come see a band I like in concert. I mean they aren’t Ashes to Amber but their good.” Kei smiled at him.

“You know who Ashes to Amber is. Well, you really are full of surprises aren’t you.” Tadashi drank the water the bartender handed him.

Kei followed him back to the stage to where Suga was standing. They went back to dancing.

“You know,” the song ended and the room went quite without him noticing,” I was watching you out there and I’ve never seen you look so hot.”

People around them laughed, and these the lead singer noticed and poorly held back a smile. Kei blushed. It wasn’t really a lie. If they weren’t somewhere so crowded Kei would have taken Tadashi on the closest table. Kei pushed the idea quickly from his mind as the song restarted.

“Come to Kurro’s party with me, please?” He pulled Tadashi close.

“What is with you and this” he groaned.

“I just want to have fun with you.” Kei was being honest even if he was being paid.

“Maybe.” Tadashi smirked.

“I’ll pick you up at 9 then.”

“I said maybe”

#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#tsukiyama #kagehina #bokuaka #disuga #I wrote this instead of studying #10 things I hate about you au #author pushes her favorite music on fictional characters #kei tsukishima is bad at feelings #flirty tsukishima

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imma-sucker-for-a-beard · 2 years ago

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Office secret

Character pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x You (Female reader

Word count: 2662

Warnings: Smut, 18+, NSFW, Secret, Office sex, Oral female receiving, F word, Slight manipulation, Light teasing, Fluff, Slight possessive behaviour, Pussy play, Fingering, Multiple orgasm, Tongue fucking, Pet names, Aftercare, Light feel of Dom/Sub, Praising, Fast penetration,

Author's Note: Since money doesn’t grow on trees and still wanting to give each other a Christmas gift, we decided to write each other a story based on random photos that were provided by the recipient. So this is my Christmas short story for @ajs-playroom-you-may-enter

All mistakes are my own.

Moodboard is my own creation.

Disclaimer: This fiction is not to be used or translated without permission. Reblogging is allowed directly from this post.

Summery: Elijah is your boss and together you have a secret.

>>> Happy Holidays and Happy New Year Babes. Thank you for being the best support I could ever wish for. And for being my sister by heart. Love you always and forever. <<<

You were in over your head since you had agreed to plan the office Christmas party, on top of doing your daily job. You hadn’t anticipated that you would meet so many obstacles, the date of the party was now only two weeks away and you heard some of your colleagues, that had everything together, talk about how they planned to nail the Boss or his brother. You mostly kept your thoughts to yourself because you had learned the hard what could happen if you spoke about who you liked. You were lost in throught looking through a website that had decent prices for both food and catering then you heard that velvety voice by your ear.

“How’s my favorite woman doing?” You blushed looking up into his beautiful deep brown eyes.

“Elijah! Stop that, you probably call every woman you meet, ‘Your favorite’.” Nudging him slightly still blushing.

He chuckled and winked at you. “Only my favorite, love.”

He walked all the way into your stall now and leaned against your desk. “How’s the party coming together, Y/N?”

You looked at your to do list and bit you lip. “It could have been better.”

He reached for the paper and took it before you could stop him. He looked at the paper and lowered it just enough to look at you with a raised brow. “It. Could. Be. Better… Really… You’re only missing music and food!”

You snatched the paper from him. “Do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to find music and food in December? It’s a freaking nightmare!”

He smiled his charming warm smile at you and whispered, “Get a bunch of pizzas and a jukebox”

You looked at him like he had just fallen from the moon. “You can’t be serious!” and he let out aloud as he pushed of the desk again.

“Alright, as you wish, love. I believe in you, Y/N!” squeezing your shoulder lightly as he left you stall and headed to his office.

…………

Moments later, three of the ‘model’ looking colleagues of your hung over the wall of you stall. “HOW the fuck do you do it….” One asked, another continued “Like how…” and the shortest finished “you’re… so ordinary!”

You breathed in deeply and looked at the last one. “Why Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Closing the folder and looked at all of them as you stood up. “Maybe it’s because I’m ordinary, that’s how I do it.”

Staring down the last one as you walked past her. And headed to the copy room with your head held high.

On you way back from the copy room you received a text. “Y/N, come to my office now… please.”

You frowned a little unsure why, looking up from the phone you saw him in the office doorway looking stern. “FUCK!” you whispered to yourself because he looked so fucking hot. Squaring your shoulders, you headed over to him.

“You wanted to see me, sir.” You could see he was fighting back a smirk behind the stern look.

“Do I ever, Ms Y/L/N” Once inside he shut the door behind him and looked at you as he walked close to you cupping your face pressing his lips against your lips kissing you deeply.

“Mmm, I wanted to kiss you the moment I walked in, Kitten.” His whispered against your lips.

You were holding onto the sides of his shirt and breathing in his scent. “I wanted you too.” You whispered back.

He lifted his head kissing your forehead on your third eye. “Then why do you insist on keeping this a secret?”

You stepped into him embracing his neck. “How do you think this would look.”

He smirked running his hand down your back and cupped your ass giving it a good squeeze. “I don’t give a fuck how it looks, you’re my woman and that’s just how it is!”

You chuckled looking at him giving him a quick kiss. “You’re cute when you get all possessive that this.”

…………

He smirked lifting you of the floor, wrapping your legs around his waist bringing you to his large oak desk placing you on it, kissing your neck deeply, whispering seductively in your ear.

“I could possessive you, claim you right here on this deck, telling everyone that you’re mine and I’m yours!”

You chuckled pushing at him. “As tempting as that would be. That won’t happen today.”

You laughed seeing him giving you puppy eyes and playfully whimpered before smiling. “Okay, Love.”

He sat down in his massive deck chair and pulled you with him as you straddled him, so your skirt pooled around your hips. “Then I want you to go away with me over the weekend!” He demanded.

You looked at him not sure what to think. “I can’t… I still haven’t found the music or food.”

He smirked against your lips and his ran a hand up your inner thigh slipping a couple of fingers past your panties feeling how moist you were, slowly pushing his fingers in you finding your sweet spot as he whispered in a husky voice.

“Y/N, you’ve done enough, I’ll make sure there’ll be music and food.!”

You whimpered against the crook of his neck. “Elijah… Please…” Not sure what you were bagging for.

“Just say, yes, baby… Let me spoil you.!” He whispered in your ear.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he slowly but expertly was bring you to a much-needed climax.

“Okay… Yes… Elijah… I give.” you moaned cupping his face, pressing your lips against his as he brought you to your release.

…………

Both of you were panting with hunger and perspiration on your skin.

“Fuck this... Baby I need you to be a quiet as possible.” He told you and you looked at him with question and quickly realised what was happening when he lifted you back up on the table and ripped your panties off and buried his face in you sex licking you in deep long stroke. Tongue fucking you, nipping your clit only to repeat the thorough treatment, bringing you to another and another climax.

You grabbed his hair whimpering deeply. “Elij… I.. Pleas…. Arrgh. Ple.. Eliiiijaaahhh…” Moaning as you withered under his expert hands and mouth.

After you lost count of how many climaxes, he had engulfed you, you pleaded. “Plea stop, Baby, Sir…. Eli…”

“Breathe deeply love...” You heard Elijah cooing softly into your ear, he had stood up resting his cheat against your, kissing you deeply as he slowly pushed his erect manhood into your love tunnel. “I need you baby..”

You cupped his face feeling tears running down the side of your face. “Daddy, please be gently.!”

His smiled and kissed you softly. “Always, I promise baby.” Thrusting torturously slow all the way in resting against your cervix only to pull back slowly and repeat. This went on for what felt a moment yet an eternity as the same time.

He bought you to three more climaxes before you felt his movements becoming more urgent and feeling him pulse deep inside of you as you felt his release shoot inside coating your insides, feeding you eager womb.

“aagh, fuck” He grunted hooking his arms under your shoulder, kissing you deeply, resting his forehead against yours, smiling deeply looking into your eyes. “Sorry Love..” Half breathing chuckling. “You said no sex at the office.”

You laughed and moaned, still feeling him inside. “It’s interesting meetings you want, Sir.”

He slowly pulled out making you whimper which in turn made him smile.

…………

He held out a hand helping you up. “Come my love, Let’s get you cleaned up!”

You took his hand and followed him to his office bathroom, you took a seat on the toilet seat, gasping at the coolness against your throbbing and well fucked sex. You watch him as he found a washcloth and rinsed it in warm water before kneeling before you.

“Spread your leg, Lovely” You did as told and moaned softly feeling the warm cloth against you sex.

“Tsh tsh tsh. What a mess I made.” He whispered and you giggled. Your eyes meeting and he winked at you.

After he finished cleaning you and himself. He helped you to stand again. No words were spoken, and it felt natural, safe, and perfect.

Walking back out to the office you found your panties, once you picked them up you saw that they were truly ripped apart. “ELIJAH!.. You’ll be the end of my panties!” You said half chuckling half scolding him.

He walked over and took them from you and put them in his pocket. “Easy access for me then.” He said winking.

“I have to go back out there you know…” you looked at the time and saw that you had been in his office for three hours. “HOLY FUCK ELIJAH!!!”

“WHAT?” He asked until he saw the time. “Oh.. Look on the bright side. Problems solved, no one’s out there now.” He said flashing you a grin.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, that’s the smile that got me in trouble in the first place!” You told squinting your eyes at him.

…………

Wednesday evening you got a work message from your calendar. You checked it and saw that you had gotten all of Friday off and Thursday from noon AND from 1 pm there was a private note which informed you that you had a three-hour spa appointment at a high-profile spa that you knew Rebekah visited frequently. Smiling to yourself you texted Elijah

~Thank you for the day and a half off, but you really didn’t have to. ~

Seconds later you got a text back.

~You’re welcome, My Lovely. Yes, I really did have to. It’s a pampering day before we leave at noon Friday. ~

The way he wrote you knew that you would never get him to agree with you, so you replied with a simple text.

~Very well, Sir. Love you. ~

His reply was. ~Good Girl, I love you too… See you Friday. ~

…………

Thursday came and went and the night to Friday you had a hard time falling asleep because the anticipation and suspense was getting the best of you. Elijah hadn’t told you anything about where you were going, not even given any hint with what to pack. The only thing he had instructed you on was not to pleasure yourself in any way because that was and would always be his job, this resulted in you being soaked like you had never be before.

…………

Friday morning you were woken by the smell of breakfast being made and the sound of Elijah humming in the kitchen. You smiled and moaned as you stretched before getting out of bed, finding the one shirt of his you had at your place and walked into the kitchen to see him stand there only in sweatpants and bare upper body, which made you sex tighten, and you had to suppress a moan.

When Elijah saw you, he smirked and mouthed. “Damn, I’m a lucky man.” Reaching a hand, out to you, you took it and smiled as he kissed the palm of your hand. “Good morning my love, are you ready for the weekend?”

You smiled and hugged him. “I suppose I am, only you can truly say if I am.!”

He chuckled and nodded. “Ah, yes. that’s true. then I can say that you are…”

Leaning in whispering to you near your ear. “In more than one way I sense. I can smell your arousal.”

You blushed instantly and nudged him. “Well, you told me not to pleasure myself, so it’s your fault.”

He chuckled “That fault I’ll happily own”

You ate breakfast, not really speaking much in verbal manner but your non-verbal communication was of the charts. Just the way you kept eye contact with each other while eating, or the way his lips pressed against the glass when he drank or the way his fingers caressed the edge of the plate, it was becoming too much for you.

Finally, you were in the car and on your way, you arrived at the airport and entered a private plane and were quickly on your way to your destination, two hours later you landed in Canada and were picked up a private chauffeur that drove you to the destination.

You gasped when you realized that you were going to spend the weekend in one of the glass globes with direct view to the northern light.

“Oh my god!!! Elijah… Are you for real!?!?” Running around the car, you jumped up wrapping both your arms and legs around him. “I love this.” Elijah caught you and chuckled.

The chauffeur laughed as he opened the car door. “Enjoy your honeymoon.”

Not bothering to explain Elijah just said. “We will, Thanks.”

…………

That evening, the fireplace was heating up the room, as you were lying in bed naked, snuggling and caressing, giving each other light massages.

You were on top of Elijah then his eyes gleamed and he just whispered. “My Love… Look.” As he looks slightly past you.

You looked up, to see the most beautiful night sky, with a mix of blue, green, purple-ish colors dancing across the night sky, he moved os you plopped back down on the bed beside him, and you laid wrapped in his arms.

Again, no words were spoken as you laid there in silence only the soft crackling from the fire broke the silence.

After some time had past Elijah move to lay between your legs.

Smiling down at you. “Y/N? Will you be mine?” he asked, and you reached up cupping his cheeks wrapping your legs around his waist. “I’m already your, Elijah.!”

He smiled deeply. “That’s not what I mean…” He said breathing deeply. “What I’m trying to say it…. Will you be my wife?” He said the last part giving an insecure smile.

You gasped and pulled his face to your and kissed him deeply before whispering. “Yes… Yes… Yes… I’ll be your wife, today, tomorrow, always and forEV…Arhhhh” the last part was spoken in a moan as he thrusted balls deep settling there feeling your walls massaging his length, kissing you back hungrily. “I love you, Y/N… Always.”

You wrapped your leg tighter around his waist forcing him deeper inside, he groaned deeply as he slowly started pumping in and out of you gaining thrust as your juices coated his member.

It didn’t take long before you there basking to the first Climax and Elijah had quickly pulled out and buried his face in your sex prolonging your climax with his expert tongue.

After your climax calmed enough, he took your hand “Come, I need you here on your knees.”

You trusted him with your life as you took his hand and followed his lead, and as you stood on your kneed in the middle of the bed Elijah positioned himself on his knees behind you, bringing your back, back against his chest, He trusted up into you this time rougher and more animalistic.

“Arh Baby…” You moaned aloud letting your head drop back against his shoulder reaching back holding onto his hip.

His right arm wrapping around your chest cupping your left breast increasing his speed.

Panting in your ear he spoke words of endearment. “You look so beautiful, Y/N.”, “You feel amazing.”, “You’re my everything.” And as he felt that you were about to climax again, he let go and climax with you coating your insides with his seed.

Panting deeply, he kissed your temple as he whispered. “MY Wife!”

You collapsed back onto the bed and slipped into a deep sleep.

You were the first to wake in the morning and found that he had placed a beautiful sapphire ring on you finger.

Now you truly felt ready for the office to know whom it was that you truly loved and belonged to.

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x female reader #imma sucker for a beard #ajs playroom you may enter #Christmas story for Anja #Christmas story #Christmas story for ajs playroom you may enter #Elijah Mikaelson kink #Story for Anja

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thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 2 years ago

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Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Word Count: 5279

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing! Author's Additional Notes: This is it. The last chapter. The Conclusion to my story! (There will be an epilogue to follow) I started this over a year and a half ago, and here we are, finished!! There were plenty of times I wondered if I'd ever get there. But with the steadfast encouragement of all of you, I found the inspiration and the drive. Thank all of you who read this and showered me with love. I am forever grateful!

Masterlist

Nightingale Masterlist

Jensen checked his watch again while he tapped his fingers against his leg trying to rid himself of the anxious energy. You’d been in the restroom for fifteen minutes and while women tended to take longer in the bathroom, it was unusual for you. Other girls had come and gone in that time, and he was beginning to worry. Deciding to hell with it, he knocked loudly to announce himself and entered.

“Y/N? Sweetheart? The play is starting…”

The room was empty and something about the eerie silence sent an ominous chill down his spine. Not a trace of you anywhere, as if you’d evaporated into thin air! Desperate, he pushed open the stall doors and last one revealed a woman crumpled against the wall. He recognized the scuffed sneakers as your favorites and the denim jacket with the frayed sleeves. And the fall of golden hair.

Frantic, he dropped to his knees, “Y/N! Baby?!”

He grabbed hold of your shoulder and pulled. Your head rolled back and revealed a deeply slit throat and a stranger’s face.

Dead. He could tell it at a glance, but it wasn’t you! The poor soul had been dressed in your clothes and a very convincing blonde wig.

“Shit!” Jensen scrambled to his feet and burst out of the room. He frantically searched the crowd of people while dialing his emergency number.

“Solomon.”

“She’s gone! She’s gone, you son of a bitch! You said she was safe!”

“We show Y/N in the ladies’ room on the east end of the pavilion.”

“Her clothes are there along with a fucking dead body! He’s got her! Fuck!”

“Stay where you are,” the agent barked through the phone while people shuffled in the background.

He took off at a jog, trying to scan the faces for yours, “Like hell I will!”

“That’s an order, Ackles! I need details, not another missing person. I have agents converging on your location.”

Jensen ended the call and tried your number. It rang several times then went to voicemail. “Sweetheart, if you get this, just hang on. I’m coming. I swear to God… I’m coming to get you.”

Consciousness came to you in fragments. Different parts of your body were numb. There was a pins and needles feeling that came with having been in one position for too long. Your eyes felt dry and raw, although you hadn’t opened them yet. Your throat felt the same and there was a really unpleasant smell coming from somewhere. An artificial and over-powering cherry scent mixed with sour sweat. Suddenly, your whole frame was jolted, and the side of your head connected with something cold and hard. It was enough to pull you out of the semi-conscious daze you’d been in, your eyes popped open as your head bounced off the passenger side window.

You sat more upright with a groan and rubbed your head, “What…?”

This wasn’t Jensen’s car. The dashboard was faded blue and cracked from the sun. An ancient radio with silver knobs played an old song from the sixties. The cardboard cherry air freshener swinging from the rearview was at least partly to blame for the oppressive stench. The man in the driver’s seat was to blame for the rest.

“Pharmaceuticals have come such a long way, haven’t they? That little trip was courtesy of a new and very effective benzodiazepine. Administered through absorption through the skin. Remarkable. It’s hung up in clinical trials, but those of us with connections can still have our fun.”

Your gaze slid to the man behind the wheel and your stomach knotted. Now that he had his glasses on and his hair was brushed back from his face, he looked much like he did back in New York. Large, hawk-like nose. Sharp cheekbones, eyebrows like dark slashes over nearly black eyes.

“Of course, the best part is that although you looked like a drunk sorority girl, you were still wide awake inside,” his lips pulled into a disturbing grin. “Hate for you to miss out.”

He was right. You’d been awake while he and that girl stripped you naked and dressed you in her clothes. You’d been useless to fight them as they pulled a wig down on your head. You were trapped in your own body, only able to witness the horror has he killed her right in front of you. In your mind, you screamed while he seamlessly ushered you past Jensen and into the crowd. Right under the noses of the undercover agents who were meant to protect you.

You forced your mind to focus. Agent Solomon had gone over countless scenarios with you, and this was one of them. You quickly took inventory and noted that every scrap of clothing had been removed or replaced. Your tracking monitor, your cell phone, your pepper spray and pocketknife. Anything that might have been useful was long gone.

Except the blue paisley tie Jensen wrapped around your wrist. You could still feel the cool silk against your skin. Your tether to him and a reminder that you still had access to one thing that might help you. The fourth wall. The stage was set, and this was just another part to play. If you gave a convincing enough performance, you might just come out of this alive.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked as you pulled the frayed seatbelt over your shoulder and secured it.

“Tsk, Tsk! Telling would ruin the surprise, and you know how much I love a good surprise.”

You scanned the scenery whizzing past and found it unfamiliar. A two-lane road cut through thick woodland as the sun began to set. No signs other than the occasional mile marker and warnings about rockslides. Your ears popped, confirming you were headed to higher elevation and farther away from civilization.

Show time.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” You ripped the auburn-colored wig from your head and tossed it to the floor.

“Do you want me to?” he returned, patting the handgun in his lap.

Panic tried to rise like bile in your throat. You pushed it down and snatched the half full pack of cigarettes from the dash.

“What I want is to wake up safe at home with a beer and left-over pizza in the fridge, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“Beer and pizza,” Arthur repeated with a scoff. “Sophistication never was your strong suit, Y/N. One of Colin’s many grievances about you.”

“What I lacked in sophistication, I made up for in eagerness.” You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, “I certainly never heard any complaints about that.”

“Slut. Useless whore. No wonder you shacked up with a Hollywood scumbag like Ackles. You probably fuck him for a weekly allowance.” His fingers tightened around the wheel as he spoke, “Colin deserved so much better than you.”

“Someone like you, I suppose.” You barked out a laugh as Green turned red from the neck up, “Jesus, you’re not still carrying a torch for a dead man, are you? That’s pathetic, Artie. It really is. You know he just kept you around out of pity. Poor little Artie from the block…”

He backhanded you right across the mouth. Your lip split and you tasted blood.

“Shut up! Just shut your whore mouth!” He grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the window, making you groan and slump in your seat. Your vison went hazy, but you kept conscious.

“You conniving bitch… you had to go to the feds! If it wasn’t for that I’d have killed you quick and been done with it. One last loose end… but not now. Now, I get creative. I’ll start with your little boy toy; carve his pretty face up so not even his own mother will recognize him. Your bestie with those cute kids? I’ll strangle her to death while they watch.”

You didn’t say anything, waiting him out as he raged on, “Oh! But what about your baby sister? Frankie. Well, let’s just say she’ll wish she’d died in that car wreck by the time I get through with her.”

With Arthur’s rage distracting him, you saw your opening and you took it. The cigarette was still clenched in your fist. Your hand shot out and you crushed the glowing cherry into his face. It sizzled and he screamed.

He howled in pain, and you grabbed the wheel, yanking it with all your might! The two of you fought for control and sent the truck into a spin. The back end fishtailed, and the tires squealed. The world went topsy turvy around you as the truck went careening off the road with a deafening crash. Then, silence.

“Black SUV, headed east on Market. That’s the last we see of it until it popped up abandoned in the Whole Foods parking lot.”

“We got the video from them?”

“Nada. Their surveillance system went down last week.”

“Safe bet that was our perp. Get the last recordings they have in the database, let’s see if Green shows his face.”

“SUV registered to Mrs. Barbara Perkins, deceased.”

“Naturally. Get a trace on that name, address, bank accounts, the works.”

Jensen had never felt more useless in his life. While the FBI agents bustled around their make-shift headquarters, he was sitting in an office chair. Waiting. There was literally nothing else he could do. They already knew what Green looked like, even disguised as a fangirl. The pics of Jensen signing autographs went live on social media almost instantaneously. There were all sorts of video surveillance of him walking around the park and walking a stumbling girl through the parking lot. It was as if he was showing off. Flaunting his deeds to the authorities who were oblivious to it all.

Jensen felt sick at the thought of how close you were. Green had walked you right by him and he didn’t even know it! His mind kept going to the dead woman wearing your clothes. Blood everywhere. Running like a river from her slit throat. It could have so easily been you. It still could, and that thought chilled him to the bone.

The video was good for one thing though, it confirmed that you had been very much alive when you left with him. Jensen was holding on to that fact like a lifeline! You were smart and you were a fighter. You’d come back, you had to. He had a whole life planned out and every day of it included you. Marriage. Children. Big family Christmases. Quiet date nights. He even planned a proposal in Paris. You told him you always wanted to go and making your dreams come true had become an obsession for him. Nothing made him happy like making you happy. His life wasn’t his own, it was forever intertwined with yours.

In the immortal words of his alter-ego, “There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.”

When his phone rang, his heart nearly stopped. He didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was you. “Y/N?!”

“Jensen! Oh God…!”

Agent Solomon was on him instantly to hand the phone over, he refused. But he did put it on speaker. “Sweetheart, where are you? Are you okay?!”

The connection was tenuous, making your voice fade in and out.

“I’m okay… not… don’t know…. Arthur crashed…”

“Crashed?! What happened?”

Solomon grabbed the phone, “Doctor West, are you with Green right now?”

“No. We crashed…. Left…”

“Was he alive when you saw him last?”

“…. Unconscious… don’t…. “

“What kind of vehicle was he driving?”

“Blue pickup… Dairyland.”

“Dairyland?” Jensen repeated.

“AJ… 677.”

“Wisconsin plates,” Solomon signaled to his agents to run a search. Even fragmented information would pull up something.

“Doctor West, do you know where you are?”

“Highway. I don’t… mountains. Jay! Its… otter… Kimmy…”

The agent locked eyes with Jensen, “What is she talking about?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “Kimmy who?”

“Kim… makeup… otter tattoo.”

It clicked for him then. The makeup artist who designed her own tattoos, Kimmy. She’d been quite taken with Y/N when she went to the set that day.

“It’s Mount Harvey, the snow melt on the south face looks like an otter playing baseball.”

“Good. Doctor West, we’re coming to you.”

If she heard, she didn’t reply. The phone screen showed the call dropped. Solomon handed the phone to one of his team to pull trace information while he barked orders. The well-oiled team shifted into their roles. Dispatch communicated with local authorities on every level. One of the advantages of working with the FBI, they were practiced in the art of the manhunt. It wasn’t a question of if they would get Green, but when. And would it be in time?

“Ackles, you’re with me.”

Jensen looked up in time to catch a bulletproof vest with FBI printed across the chest.

“I don’t have civilians on my tactical team as a rule,” Solomon informed him, zipping up his own vest. “But you know Y/N better than anyone, I need your insight. Let’s move.”

You weren’t sure how far you’d gotten or how long you’d been walking. It seemed like forever. That ancient truck Arthur had been driving actually turned out to be a blessing. The frame was good, old fashioned American steel and took the brunt of the crash without much damage. The seatbelt did its job and prevented you from being thrown through the windshield. Although, it dug into you with enough force that you likely had a broken clavicle and possibly a dislocated shoulder. It throbbed like a son of a bitch, but you still made out better than Green.

He was going over sixty miles per hour when he crashed, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. He was slumped over the steering wheel, bleeding from a deep gash on his scalp and covered in broken glass from the shattered windshield. The doctor in you wanted to check for a pulse, but your visual assessment would have to do. He was breathing, and that was enough. You knew time wasn’t on your side, you needed to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

You made a quick search of his pockets and found both a phone and a handgun. The passenger side door was bashed in, making it impossible to escape through the door or the window. With a quick glance to confirm your kidnapper was still unconscious, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and climbed over the dash and through the shattered windshield. You ignored the pain of the broken glass tearing into your hands and legs.

You had to get out and make a run for it, it was your only chance!

The charge on the cell was dwindling as it searched for a signal, but the fates were with you, and it connected. The sound of Jensen’s voice nearly broke you. You held yourself together enough to get as much information out as you could before the call dropped.

“No, no damn it!” Your fingers shook as you tried to call again, only to be me with no service. You looked around at the dense trees lining the two-lane highway and the rapidly setting sun. Tears blurred your vision and the weight of your situation hit you in force.

There was nowhere to go for help, you didn’t even know where you were! The adrenaline in your system was fading and you could feel the effects of shock setting in. Injured in a car wreck coupled with who knows what the side effects of that drug Arthur shot you up with. You well and truly screwed.

You bent at the waist; your hands braced on your knees as you fought the rising panic. The blue patterned silk tied to your wrist peeked out from under your shirt cuff.

“Breathe, Y/N.”

“I can’t.”

“I’m right here, Sweetheart. I’m with you.”

“He’s going to kill me!”

“You can do this, come on. Deep breath. In and out.”

You closed your eyes and rubbed the silk between your finger and thumb. Like magic, you saw the closet. Warm and filled with color-coded clothes. The scent of cedar and vanilla cologne and Jensen smiling.

“You’ve got this, Y/N. Keep moving, keep fighting! I’m coming for you.”

The actor’s trick worked. Your mind cleared and you focused. Obviously, continuing on foot was only a decent option when you knew where you were going. You didn’t. Which meant it was a drain on your energy reserves. Plus, it would make rescuing you that much more difficult for the people looking for you.

You eyed the woods. It was risky, with nightfall fast approaching, you would have wildlife to contend with and falling temps, but then… so would Green. If he came to, he’d be looking for you. Best to make that as difficult as possible.

“Stronger together,” you muttered the motto that became a mantra. Even though he wasn’t holding your hand, Jensen was still with you. You could still count on him, to remind you what was worth fighting for.

With the gun heavy in your hand, you climbed down the embankment and disappeared into the forest.

“R.C.M.P. clocked a vehicle matching Green’s heading north on 99. Last spotted an hour ago just passing Lion’s Bay.”

“Any confirmation on passengers?”

“Two. A male and a female.”

“Given the timeframe of the crash, they couldn’t have gotten much farther than that.”

“Any hits on the cell?”

“No, sir.”

“Keep trying. If she’s on the move, we might get lucky.”

Jensen kept quiet as he sat in the back of the SUV. The flurry of clipped commands yielded no new information. They were racing towards you, but there was no way to know if they would make it in time. Jensen tugged at the tie on his wrist while his mind worked over-time. Were you hurt? Scared? Running or hiding? Were you alive?

God please, let her be alive!

As if on cue, his cell phone rang. Only once, before the call dropped, but it was your number. And it was enough.

“Got it! Moving slow, heading north by northeast towards Tunnel Bluffs.”

“We’ve got local law in the area about ten minutes out.”

“All units converge on new coordinates, be advised our witness is currently on foot.”

“The assailant is considered armed and dangerous, use of full and deadly force authorized for all personnel.”

The trees on Mount Harvey were thick and grew to impressive proportions. Massive, monolithic firs and pines that held the record for some of the biggest on Earth. Tangles of undergrowth and roots covered every inch of the forest floor, you lost your footing more than once. Every fall slowed you down and added to your injuries. The sun dropped to just below the horizon and the temperature went with it.

You leaned heavily against one of the pines to catch your breath. Your physical reserves were nearly gone, and you knew it. There was just enough daylight left to make out a tree a few feet away. It had an unusual split in its trunk. Limping and cradling your arm to ease the pressure on your shoulder, you poked around in the gap. Mostly filled with decomposing leaves, but big enough to shelter you for the night.

You squeezed your body through the opening and bit back a grunt as the bark scraped your injuries. It wasn’t comfortable, which was for the best. Your exhausted body was already vying for sleep, anything to counter that was welcome. The opening wasn’t wide enough to see much, but it was still a defensible position.

Your frozen fingers flexed around the gun as your eyes worked to adjust to the darkness falling. The weight of it in your hand was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. You were a doctor, you saved lives you didn’t take them. Your thumb clicked off the safety as you committed to the only course of action that would leave you alive. It would be a long night and you were damn well going to survive it.

“All around the cobbler’s bench, the monkey chased the weasel.”

Your eyes popped open. When had you shut them? The phone in your pocket died long ago, so it was impossible to tell how long you’d been in hiding. The woods were still. There was no wind or sounds of scuttling wildlife. But a child’s song, so faint you thought you’d imagined it.

“The monkey thought was all in fun.”

“A penny for a spool of thread, a penny for a needle.”

“That’s the way the money goes.”

“Pop! Goes the weasel!”

There it was again. Singing. You were sure you hadn’t imagined it, it had to be Arthur. God! It seemed like you were making a racket! Your breathing, your heartbeat, your eyelashes blinking rapidly as you desperately scanned the inky shadows. Why did sound amplify in the cold and the dark? It all seemed to be announcing your location to the man who was coming to murder you.

“Up and down the London road.”

“In and out of the Eagle.”

“That’s the way the money goes.”

“Pop! Goes the weasel!”

He was playing with you. The monkey and the weasel. Cat and mouse. You should have kept running! Should have kept to the road, someone would have seen you. You would have stood a chance! Now you were in a trap of your own making.

“I’ve no time to plead and pine.”

“I’ve no time to wheedle.”

“Kiss me quick and then I’m gone.”

“Pop! Goes the weasel!”

The echo of the woods distorted Arthur’s voice so that you had no clue where he was coming from. Running now would do you no good. It was too late. The son of a bitch was closing in on you now. Would they even be able to find your body? Would Jensen ever know what became of you? You should have ran the minute you remembered your name.

“All around the cobbler’s bench.”

“Arthur chased the doctor.”

“The doctor thought was all in fun…”

God, please keep him safe from the psychopath. And Frankie! Make sure they know I love them! No matter what happens to me… I love you!

“Pop!”

Arthur. Blood, dirt, and broken glass. A twisted grin split his grotesque face.

Time stopped; a shot rang out. Then, nothing.

Jensen stood with the small, second group of agents investigating the crashed truck. Two sets of footprints disappeared into the woods and the first round of FBI had already spread out into the wilderness to join the Mounties and broaden the search.

The report of a gunshot echoed all the way back to the road.

His blood ran cold. “Y/N.”

A hand went to Jensen’s Kevlar covered chest before he could move. Bruce, the iron faced agent assigned to the actor, held him in place.

"Let me go!"

"Not a chance."

"That was a fucking gunshot!"

"Yeah, it was. You take off now, the next one might have your name on it."

“I don’t care!”

"Right now, every resource we have is focused on Y/N. You go out there and those resources get split, cutting her chance at survival in half.”

Jensen turned away, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck!”

"We've all got a job to do. Yours is communication,” Bruce put a steady hand on Jensen’s shoulder. “You want to help your girl? Stay put. Be here and be ready to answer when she calls."

Knowing Bruce was right didn't make the next hour of waiting any easier. It was agony. There was no word. Not a sound from anyone. Radio silence, Agent Bruce called it. He seemed to think it was a positive sign, but it was driving Jensen insane. Each minute that passed brought a horrible new thought. A potential nightmare that could play out right in front of him. And he was powerless to prevent it.

He was past the end of his rope when an ambulance came into view and sped past them. Traveling at breakneck speed up the mountain. Flashing lights bouncing off the trees and rock face.

Bruce held a finger to the tiny Speaker in his ear. A grim look passed his features.

"Let's move."

He said nothing more. No word on if you were alive or dead. No hint at who that ambulance was for. An hour ago, Jensen would have sworn he'd reached his capacity for worry and stress. But that was nothing compared to the five minutes it took to reach the clearing. There was a mass of people milling around. F.B.I. he recognized and a few others outfitted in uniforms for the R.C.M.P. That ambulance was parked off to the side, the back door was closed but the lights were still flashing. Several other official looking vehicles showed up, including one for the coroner’s office.

Jensen was out of the car before Bruce even put it in park. He caught the slender build of Frank Solomon, casually talking to a couple of other agents by the rail guard. The son of a bitch was acting like he’d completed a milk run! Jensen’s nostrils flared with rage as he made a direct path for him.

The young man looked up, seemingly unphased by the Texan’s aggressive approach.

"Ackles.”

"Where is she?!"

Solomon’s mouth opened, but it wasn’t his voice that was heard. A shrill, terrified scream came from inside the ambulance, cutting through the night.

"Jensen!"

He'd spent fifteen years stepping into the boots of Dean Winchester. Fighting monsters. Some you could see, some you couldn't. But no matter how close he was to the hero he portrayed; it was still an act. Though there were plenty of times he’d wished it were real. Wished he were more like the enigmatic man in the ’67 Chevy. The man who always knew what to do. The man who always saved the day.

And yes, he would let his ‘Dean’ show from time to time. That was a blurred line that proved useful more than once. But in that moment when you screamed for him, there was no line. There was no Dean, there was clarity.

Solomon got exactly one word out, “Wait…”

Jensen pulled back his fist and punched him square in the face, knocking him on his ass.

He ran to that ambulance. On a mission and with one purpose, he tore the door open.

You were sitting on a gurney, struggling against the medic who was trying to keep you from bolting. Bruised and bloody. But breathing! The second you saw him, you went still, your bottom lip quivered.

“Jensen.”

The medic proved smarter than the F.B.I. agents and moved out of the way, allowing Jensen the room to take you in his arms. That was when you broke completely. Sobbing and desperately clinging to him like a child. You weren’t sure how you got there. One minute you were in that tree being stalked by a killer, the next you were being bundled into an ambulance. It was so surreal! It wasn’t until you heard Jensen on the other side of the door that you snapped. Reality crashed over you, and you couldn’t breathe.

Jensen tried to will his own panic away. You were alive. He had you. Bloody and trembling, but in his arms. He could hear himself telling you soothing things. Comforting words that he would never be able to recall later. He was sure you couldn’t understand him anyway, you were crying so hard that your whole body shook.

But his voice was a balm, the timbre of it washed over you. After a time, the raw shock wore through to numbness. You drew a shuddering breath and tried to speak.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice coming from just over your head. “I’m right here.”

You released your death grip on Jensen’s jacket and snuck a look at your hands. There were burn marks there from the gun powder. Across the clearing, two men were maneuvering a stretcher over the gravel. A black body bag was strapped to the top.

“I killed him.”

Jensen gently brushed the tangled hair away from your face. His gaze followed yours to the body being taken away. It could have so easily been you. He rubbed his hand down your back and tucked your head under his chin.

“Don’t look, baby. Don’t think about it. Never again.”

The EMT reappeared, insisting that you go to the hospital. He listed a number of injuries that needed attention. Including another fucking concussion.

You managed a weak laugh, “Look at us, right back where we started.”

“At least you didn’t drown this time, your average is improving,” Jensen said, kissing your forehead.

With practiced efficiency, the medic had you secured and ready for transport. Just as the door was about to shut, Frank Solomon appeared. His jaw was discolored and starting to swell where Jensen landed his punch.

Jensen smirked, “Back for round two?”

“The ambulance is already at capacity, let’s not chance it.” Solomon’s dark eyes shifted to you. The arrogance drained away, and he seemed softer. Almost repentant.

“Doctor West, I wanted to let you know that the death of Arthur Green officially closes this case. You are no longer under any obligation to the F.B.I. for any purpose and you are free to resume your life.”

“You won’t need me to make a statement?”

“We have everything we need. And I have to say, without your cooperation and your bravery, we never would have gotten Green let alone shut down the drug ring. This victory is yours.”

“I shot a man. Deserved or not, that doesn’t feel particularly victorious.”

Solomon blinked slowly, “You didn’t shoot Arthur Green.”

“What?”

“Barely clipped his shoulder, but I hardly call that a shot,” the agent shrugged, his casual manner back in place. “One of the Mounted Police got him… Roberts, I think. One clean shot to the head. Green was dead before he hit the ground.”

You could have lived with the death on your conscience, knowing it had been self-defense. But the fact that you didn’t have to, freed you. Well and truly. Lightness settled in where guilt had been only a moment ago. Words failed you. An astonished gasp left your lips, and you let you head rest against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Goodbye, Doctor West. Mr. Ackles.” Solomon shut the door and thumped it twice.

The ambulance slowly rolled away to begin its descent down the mountain. Jensen’s hand found yours under the emergency blanket tucked over your lap.

“It’s over.”

“Yeah, it’s all over, Sweetheart” he murmured, kissing your temple.

You and Jensen would talk about the incredible circumstances of how you got together often over the years. You would muse on the workings of fate and God’s grand plan. You would wonder at the impossibility of it all.

Surely, there must have been an easier way for two lost souls to meet.

But then, meeting wouldn’t have been enough. The two of you were drowning; separately but equally. The miserable details of your own lives were pulling you under like a riptide. It was so all-consuming that you couldn’t break free. You weren’t strong enough, not alone.

It was like Jensen said that day in your old apartment, make a different choice. The two of you chose to save each other. But you also chose to let yourself to be saved. It wasn’t passive and it wasn’t by chance. It was a decision. Perhaps not always an easy one, but it had power.

Love does conquer all, but only if you choose it. TagList @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseubyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetry @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @deanwwinchester

#jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn fic #supernatural #Nightingale

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trektraveler · 2 years ago

Text

Nightingale Chapter Seventeen - All Around the Cobbler's Bench

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Seventeen: All Around the Cobbler's Bench

Word Count: 5279

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

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