#god i forgot i wrote not smut this time and wanted to tag it as such bruh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bindeds · 9 months ago

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[ DON’T BE SORRY. ] : 5.1k words. 𖤐 LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X FEM READER. — you’re dating the big boss of hell himself, but it’s a sticky situation when you’re also good friends with a tech-savvy overlord who believes the cause of your boyfriend’s daughter is absolute bullshit.

#tags. slight hurt/comfort, slight jealousy, nsfw (+18), fluff, smut, vox being a hell of a friend, lucifer being vulnerable as hell,

a/n. fuuuuck i forgot to post this under the request but this was the request that i wrote this for <33 didn''t even remember they wanted fluff which is lucky bc i suck at fluff so i don't write it too often but i ended up writing in fluff anyway bc it felt appropriate for the fic SO

masterlist. request something :>

“Sir, someone is here to see you.”

Vox growled. His office would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the multitude of tv screens that stared right back at him, boring holes into his screen. They buzzed and whined with a cyan glare bright enough to light the entire pentagram. Claw marks left the edges of his head unpolished, his bowtie askew as his teeth grinded so hard he wanted to encounter a system error.

“Tell Val I am not in the mood for sorting out whatever’s got his panties in a twist this time—”

“Someone else, sir.”

“Well don’t just stand there you useless fuck! Who the fuck is it?” Static shocks ruptured from the wires on his head as he jumped out of his chair fuming.

The employee pulled one of the handles of Vox’s grand doors. In pranced a sunlit woman with a grin that stained her cheeks red. On her arms were shopping bags lined all the way down their forearms, marking their weight on her flesh.

You pulled your rose-tinted sunglasses away from your face as you cocked a brow.

“What, are you not happy to see me Vicky?”

“When are you gonna stop calling me that, you absolute slut!” Vox beamed, and as if a new line of code had entered his program, he shedded his jacket off to peel your shopping bags off you as he set them on his couch.

“What brings you back here after all this time, whore? And whose money are you wearing because I know there’s no goddamn way that’s all yours,” Vox laughed through his clearly lighthearted remarks.

“Whatever. Whore is right because you’ll never guess who I’m fucking.”

On the edge of the pride ring resided halls and halls of vintage red wallpaper and intricate gold decor. Knocking frantically at her father’s door just to ask where his partner had gone was never how Charlie would have imagined her morning to go, ever, but here she was, knees wobbling with her hands clasped together as she waited no longer than a second before she had her fist in the air again to—

“Charlie?”

“Dad!”

When Charlie had asked of your whereabouts, Lucifer simply frowned, though a hint of terror struck his shrunken pupils.

“Uh—I thought she was with you? Don’t you guys have that trust building exercise thing on today—”

“Yes! Yes that is precisely why I am panicking—she’s not in her room and she never misses our gatherings! Dad, how do you not know where she is?” Charlie screeched anxiously.

“Relax, Charlie I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for—”

“For her not to tell her own boyfriend where she’s going?” Charlie seethed with dirt kicked into her tone.

“Let me call her, okay?” Lucifer pulled his phone out and speed dialed you.

Something in his room buzzed intermittently.

Charlie peered into her father’s room, only to find another phone rattling on the further bedside table.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder to the same view. His shoulders dropped.

“Ohhh no.”

“Face it baby, I got bigger bucks than daddy could ever conjure up.”

“Vox!” You punched him in the shoulder, unable to hold back laughs that pulled at the bottom of your stomach.

“What? Oh my god, you actually call him that in bed don’t you, you bitch? Holy shit, you really are a slut!” Vox cracked up after you both had left his building. “Where to?”

“A few blocks away I got something to show you in the ma …”

Your lips fell numb when your gaze fell on a certain man with a white overcoat tailing in the wind as he approached your direction with a storm in his steps. He had been looking at his sides—your hand moved to shove Vox even before your body could follow.

“Ow, what—”

“Go.”

“Babe, what’s—”

“Vox go GO! Back in now!” You spun him on his heel and elbowed him back into the glass doors of his building lobby.

“Honey?”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

He called your name, loud and clear as day that even the ruby skies of hell echoed it.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” Vox deadpanned.

“Hey!”

Both yours and Vox’s heads turned to the sound, Lucifer just a few strides away from possibly opening a portal down a ring.

“You!” Lucifer barked, gaze locked with Vox’s. “The fuck are you doing calling my girlfriend ‘babe’?”

“Oh, that’s not—”

“Lie to me and I swear to fucking god I’ll make sure they’ll be prying you for parts.”

“Luci.”

“What?” His head snapped in your direction.

A silent gasp escaped you.

His shoes hadn’t nearly been dragged through as much gravel as his voice had been. It was something he’d dug up from the depths of his chest like it was nothing—and it brimmed with the filth of his own disdain.

Lucifer blinked hard as he shook his head. “Honey, I didn’t—”

“We’re just friends.”

“I know that but—”

“It’s an expression.”

Lucifer blinked a few times again, and with each blink he lost more and more tension in his brows, his shoulders—even his lips parted, perhaps to say something, perhaps not.

You and Vox were frozen halfway through the door so Lucifer kicked him in and shut the door quickly to leave you and himself out on the street.

“Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?” Lucifer asked, and it was like he placed a pillow to your head with the way his tone softened. His thumb had somehow ended up stroking soft circles on the back of your palm as he held your hand.

Vox stayed inside but his prying eyes stared through the glass nonetheless. He crossed his arms.

“Don’t look at him, darling,” Lucifer consoled with a lowered voice. He delicately took your chin and pivoted it back to him. “Look at me.”

“Look, can we talk about this back at the hotel?” You asked, but with the tone you used, you were teetering on the edge of pleading. “I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, tucking away any small pieces of hair that hung over your face. “Of course we can.”

All you could do was give Vox a weary glance before you ducked down into Lucifer’s car and disappeared in the distance.

The ride back had not been short of thick silences that hung in the air. Everytime you looked to him for some sort of emotion, there was nothing for you to read; his complexion was a still pond resting under the moon’s grace. Not even anger bubbled up the surface—and this is solely based on your assumption of what he must have been feeling, because he was a blank page. It’s only reasonable.

Lucifer stopped at the newly built hazbin parking lot but didn’t pull out the key.

He looked at you expectantly, turning even his upper body to face you.

You bit your lip.

“You don’t wanna go inside first?” A squeak of a voice was all you managed.

“I don’t want Charlie to see us upset,” Lucifer reasoned solemnly as he frowned at the floor before he returned his attentive gaze to you. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out in here.”

“I’m … ashamed, okay,” you exhaled, folding your arms over your chest as you slouched forward. “I’m in hell for a reason. I know it looks bad but I’ve known Vox since he was alive. And I still believe in Charlie’s cause! I’m doing better … you know that, right?”

“Of course, I do, sweetie,” Lucifer blurted immediately, holding your arms like he was the glue to keep you from crumbling apart. “But why did you … did you think I wasn’t going to understand if you had told me?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Even I wouldn’t have understood if I were in your shoes. I mean, I act like a completely different person around him. And I know what Vox has done, trying to send in Sir Pentious as a spy. It’s horrible. But he wasn’t always like that. Or, maybe he was but—never with me.”

“Honey, I trust you more than just about anyone in this hell. And fuck, that’s difficult in this side of the world, right? I mean—I just … you had me thinking the worst. Well, maybe not the worst but—”

“You thought I was cheating on you, didn’t you?”

“No, never,” Lucifer denied immediately as his eyes widened but his brows furrowed. “I knew it was some kind of mistake. I know you’d never do that to me. But you know … catching up with an overlord like it’s a regular tuesday still raises a few questions if—”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m sorry,” you repeated rigidly, curling into yourself so much that your head landed on his shoulder as he still held your arms.

Lucifer pulled back to hold your face by the cheeks, and you didn’t struggle against him as he pressed his forehead on yours, his hat tilting up to accomodate you.

“How about a kiss and we’ll call it even?” He smiled, and you felt his warmth spread to your cheeks.

You grinned back. “Okay.”

You tilted your chin up and gave him a kiss, and both of you had sustained it longer than either of you had expected. Your hand cupped his own over your cheek.

Your lips finally parted, but not much before you both reconnected again, then again, and the third time your mouth was a little more open—and Lucifer’s tongue slithered inside.

Your tongue met his, and they rolled over each other every time you kissed him. A few more kisses, and suddenly you were biting his lip lightly. He chuckled.

“I can see you’re eager to make it up to me, princess,” he said in that voice he knew drove you up the wall.

“I am,” you hummed, a little more innocently than you had intended.

“Well, what are you gonna do?” He asked, genuine curiosity brewing in a higher tone.

You slipped away from his flowerbud grasp and pulled the lever of your seat. The backrest declined all the way backwards, and you laid down comfortably while your thumb slid under your dress and hooked around something that was already mildly damp.

“I’m gonna sit back …”

You chuckled as Lucifer’s eyes followed your every movement like a moth to a lamp; he followed the way your underwear slid down your knees before you folded your legs up to your chest to fully rid yourself from the garment. You tossed your underwear in his face before he could get a good view of what he’s getting himself into.

He shook his head in a jolt, crumpling your panties and stuffing them into his pocket anxiously. But by then you were modest again, with your dress covering your thighs but still riding up dangerously high.

“And let you decide the rest,” you finished in a thin breath.

“Goodness, okay, woo! Okay—” Lucifer sputtered and fanned his overcoat as he averted his gaze. It didn’t last long when his gaze gravitated towards your core that had been concealed but outlined your dress.

You bit your lip. “Well?”

Lucifer’s shoulder emerged from his coat as he shrugged one side of it off, and your gaze magnetized to the view as it slipped down him like a snake traversing down a tree.

He planted his knee on the closer edge of your seat and it didn’t take long for him to shift your legs closer together, allowing space for his knees on either side of your thighs. Though, steadying himself naturally had his chest protruding as he held onto the car ceiling for support. His muscles peeked through the folds of his dress shirt, and the same can be said with his chest under his waistcoat. But that—that was no complaint.

He finally fell to you with only his forearms to keep him up. His eyelids sank, his gaze indecisive between your eyes and your dry lips.

He settled on neither when he ducked below your jaw and planted kisses along it before he strayed downwards.

The spaghetti string of your dress slid down your shoulder the more your squirmed at Lucifer’s nibbles. You knew the moment he caught sight of this because he hesitated for a tenth of a second.

He grinned. He took it between his fingers delicately and slid it down further.

“Whoops,” he grinned.

Glossy silicon mocked him as it peeked out from what had been peeled off you.

“Luci, careful with that, I’ll need to put it back on later—”

Lucifer tore it off you anyway, tossing it to the back with his overcoat. ��I’ll give you my coat when we go in, you’ll be fine.”

“Luci!” You laughed as he did the same with the other, your nipples stiffened from the cold air of the car.

Lucifer sat on your pelvis, his hands traveling under your boobs to cradle them.

You both have had sex multiple times together, and yet every time he removes undergarments off you, he enters a dazed trance like it was something new. Something to bask in the wonders of.

He massaged your breasts gently, and it didn’t take long before he ducked down and had his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, one hand twisting and playing with the other.

A noise bubbled in your throat but you held your breath and bit your lip. Watching Lucifer hadn’t been any help; he cocked a brow at you, and a cheeky grin still made its way to the red circles on his cheeks as he quicked his tongue’s flicks against you. You gritted your teeth, a squeak making it past your lips.

His hand abandoned the other nipple, but before you could whine in protest a new sensation rose in your lower stomach as Lucifer shifted his entire body further down.

His fingers had already been deep beneath your folds, your clit sitting pretty between as he pinched it and rubbed it in his grasp.

“Luci … fuck …”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Hell, you hated just how raspy his voice gets when he’s worked up. That by itself had been a leg-opener all on its own. “That’s it. Let me hear you sing.”

Your legs flinched at the jolt of pleasure his fingers brought, and Lucifer took this opportunity to lift the hem of your dress for easier access—and perhaps, a pretty view.

Every so often, he’d bring the threat of pushing his middle finger past your walls, but through the haze of pleasure, it was impossible to read his intentions when he easily could have been using your juices to lubricate his ministrations on your clit.

It had been like the wave of a wand, the way his free hand undid his tie. It dangled loose below his collar that he used to straighten out so diligently; something once so clean soon turned into a crumpled mess in your name.

His wrist pivoted down to the buttons on his waistcoat. The faintest flick of his thumb and suddenly his waistcoat hung dead on his torso before he rubbed faster on your clit, making your squeal.

Cold air brushed past your arousal at the sudden absence of him, and your walls throbbed against each other in response; they bruised and ached and when Lucifer turned down the brightness of the car light, it was all you could feel besides the leather your nails were sinking into.

“Luci, please …”

“Please what, honey?”

“It hurts,” you whined. You didn’t mean to, and in fact a burning sense of shame rose up to your neck and cheeks as sweat tore through the pores on your forehead but all you could do was grab his hand.

“I’m coming, daddy’s coming.”

A slow zipping sound ensued and just as quickly, the head of his erection pressed into your folds and your dripping walls pushed back from the pressure.

You moaned and grabbed Lucifer’s shoulders out of raw instinct, which brought him closer to you.

“You want it all, princess?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” your mouth sagged numb from having to carry your writhing heart in your throat. The vulnerability of his skin on yours, the way his head was just so warm compared to the cold air earlier—your pussy throbbed once more.

“Are you sure?”

“Please please please Luci I can’t—oh! Fuck!”

He pushed his length into you, your neck arching back as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt from where your hands hung around his neck.

Your throat clogged with the embarrassing sounds you knew you would have let out if you had no restraint left. You closed your eyes, knowing well that they were halfway to the back of your head.

Your stomach seemed to make way for his size in you, tossing and spreading the ache to your limbs as your entire body steeled to accommodate him and the space he filled in you.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You nodded, and a hole punctured through your throat as you sighed shakily. “Yes, god—”

“Don’t say his name,” Lucifer breathed, his hand soft on your neck as he looked at your lips then back up at you. “If you have to say someone’s name, let it be mine.”

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing your brain conjured, and the only thing you could utter when all else in there had been undone.

Lucifer kissed your jaw. “Don’t be sorry baby.”

He took your lips in his, his forked tongue brushing past your teeth once more. “Don’t be sorry.”

It was barely considered movement when he pulled out less than half his entire length and pushed in gently, as if you were something fragile he couldn’t afford to drop. You bit your lip and hummed at how smooth he slid into you, how your juices coated him beyond what was needed.

He pulled out quickly but reentered languidly, like a wave finding its way to shore your core clenched at the nerves that tingled in you, the bruises almost sated in what it yearned for as he thrusted again, and your heart spewed.

“Fuck, if you make a sound like that again I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself,” Lucifer panted. “You’re so pretty, it makes me tremble.”

You reached up to give him another kiss, tilting your head along with the circles spinning in it. “Do whatever you want to me. You deserve that much.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to treat you like fucking royalty. Savor every inch if you,” Lucifer hissed through his pleasure. A choked moan left you, causing Lucifer to smile. “Yeah, see? Just like that princess. Fuck, taking me so well …”

With how soft his thrusts were, pressure subsided into more liquid pleasure that sloshed over your nerves. They lit up like christmas lights in your brain as you both moved in tandem to Lucifer’s pace.

A fire had started at your nape from the body heat that had nowhere to go, sweat dripping from your hairline and paving wavy lines of hair that caused your forehead to glisten. Your collarbones warmed up in a different way, Lucifer’s hot breath filling the space between the both of you.

His thrusts grew anxious over time, but his hips never once hit your ass which might have scalded your stomach further; the fact that this man possessed an iron grip over his control in his strokes, he had been careful not to taint you—he only took from places he knew both of you would be enraptured in—and absolutely nothing less.

“Honey, I can’t—” he hissed through gritted teeth as his fingers curled in your hair. His eyes wandered down to how your breasts bobbed to his strokes. He moaned your name, and if the car hadn’t been shaking from Lucifer’s rutting, it shook from the way he proclaimed your name and dropped his head like he was bowing to a god. “Holding me so tight—you worried I’m gonna let go, sweetie?”

“No—ngh! You just feel so good I c-can’t!” You yelped in time with each thrust that followed. “Luci, I—fuck!”

His head perked up, just like the bundle of nerves in that oh-so familiar spot. An old friend.

Lucifer gave a determined grin, sweat trickling down his cheek as he paused to wipe it away.

“Well, hello,” he greeted in a low sultry voice.

He resumed fucking you, but this time he had you screaming his name as his length rubbed up against that spot your body purred to. You shivered and your walls clenched, causing Lucifer to falter.

“F-Fuck, that’s it, good girl,” he grunted in between controlled thrusts that had your gut squeezing. He never once missed.

When your walls fluttered, Lucifer chuffed through his teeth and through the fog of your satisfaction, you indulged in the smell of cotton candy sweat.

“You’re close, princess, so close, I can feel it.”

You gritted your teeth with whatever strength you had left, even your hands had begun to slip from Lucifer’s shoulders.

“You?” Was all you could manage.

“Me? Baby, seeing you like this has me fucked out,” Lucifer huffed. “Shit!”

You squeezed his shoulders before he could pull out.

“In me, Luci!”

He froze, shaking his head to wave away his own daze to focus on you, the things your … request entailed.

“Darling, I don’t have a condom on,” he whispered as the inner corners of his brow quivered.

“You’d make beautiful fucking babies, Luci—I wanna carry them.” Your voice had been obliterated from the sounds Lucifer had fucked out of you. Wispy breaths was what it had become—but the red in your cheeks and your weakened yet felicious state made Lucifer smile.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he said your name and it was nearly enough to get you back down from the clouds. “C’mon, honey …”

“Luci …” you whined. “You’re so goddamn hot when you’re being responsible …”

“Yeah?” He laughed softly, cradling your cheek in his hand.

“Yeah …”

“Let’s finish you up, okay?” He reached up to kiss your forehead but you squeaked from the fact that his length slid deep into you in the process. “Ah, sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” you quoted him from last time, and his surprise melted into a warm smile instead. “Please fuck me.”

“As you wish.”

You screamed brokenly as he continued his ruthless pace from before, and he remembered the exact angle to hit. Your nerves were about ready to jump out from your body as you skyrocketed back into the clouds, your orgasm coming sooner than you could warn him.

“Cumming!” He gritted through his teeth as his horns shot up from his head and you both came together with Lucifer’s cum hitting your dress instead.

Your head hung off the car seat’s headrest. Sweat shimmered on the leather you laid on, and your legs trembled from how long they’d been held at the same position. The only thing you two shared now was open-mouth breaths. You thought of moving, but your muscles were well past its limit to even be lifted.

Lucifer twisted around to grab tissues from the passenger seat compartment. In just a few seconds, he wiped out most of the evidence of himself on your dress. By this time, his horns were long gone and his eyes had returned back to its original form.

“Fuck … I didn’t think this through …” Lucifer grumbled to himself as he hit his temple with his palm. He ran his fingers through his hair before he mustered a weak smile for you. “Wait here, I’ll grab your clothes from your room.”

You exhaled audibly as he vanished with a swirl of sparkling red smoke.

A few breaths of silence by yourself wasn’t ideal, especially when you felt the whine and ache of your limbs in the fact that you were as good as scattered leaves across autumn grass.

Just then, your phone buzzed from the cupholder.

You winced as you bent to take it.

Brat >:)

you better not be fucking him right now i swear to FUCKING GOD [ 13:06 ]

you disappear for years and suddenly you’re back and you’re telling me YOU’RE DISAPPEARING AGAIN?&2$:$$3;: FUCKING [ 13:05 ]

HELLO? THE FUCK [ 12 :57 ]

i’m not gonna let even the king of hell himself keep you from me [ 12:16 ]

because i am not done with you yet [ 12:15 ]

bitch you better show me whatever the fuck you wanted to show me earlier before daddy decided to whisk you away like some fucking fairy tale prince [ 12:15 ]

You chuckled as you swiped the notification.

You [ 13:06 ] : bitch you know the dick is good cmon now

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i mean this in the most platonic and murderous way possible, i will fuck you myself if that’ll get you to ACTUALLY BE A FRIEND AND VISIT ME INSTEAD OF DISAPPEARING FOR YEARS

Vox [ 13:06 ] : i already have to deal with the heartbreak of al

Vox [ 13:06 ] : ykw doesn’t matter THE POINT IS THAT YOU ARE THE SHITTIEST FUCKING FRIEND AND I MISS YOU IS THAT NOT REASON ENOUGH

You [ 13:07 ] : okay, okay, how about this sunday then lmaoo

Vox [ 13:07 ] : you better fucking believe i’ll be blowing a fucking hole through that radio prick’s hotel just to pick you the fuck up asshole

You [ 13:07 ] : if i didn’t know any better vicky i would have assumed you’re actually coming to pick alastor up HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

Vox : ( typing … )

Your phone levitated out of your hands and when you followed where it zipped off to—

“Luci!” You sprung up from the declined backrest in surprise.

Lucifer squinted at your phone as he swiped his thumb down on your screen.

“First of all, I’m honored that you’re telling people how well I pleasure you. Second of all,” Lucifer paused, leaning into you as he used his free arm to hold himself up to you. “Vox is in a world of hurt if he thinks I’m gonna let him lay a finger on you.”

“Yeah?” You copied the way Lucifer says it and watched as his face reddened.

You noticed your spare clothes on his lap and you lifted the dress over your head and discarded it on the floor of the backseat.

You held out your hand for Lucifer to hand you your clothes.

He simply looked at your hand, then back at your naked body, then back at your hand as took it in his own.

You laughed. Hard.

“What—what’s happening why’re you—”

“The clothes, baby!”

“Oh—Oh! Right! Shit!” He finally handed you an oversized shirt, fresh underwear and a pair of shorts you used to at-home wear. “I thought you were asking for another round or something, holy shit—”

“I mean …” you smirked.

“Honey …” Lucifer warned, as if trying to keep a predator from attacking.

“Oh? You don’t wanna? My bad,” you replied innocently. “I was just wondering if Vox was free tonight—”

“I know you’re trying to get a rise out of me but honey …” Lucifer trailed off as he flipped your phone and shoved it into his back pocket.

He crossed over to your seat once more and pinned you back down where you once were, one knee pressed on the side of your seat as his hands ended up on either side of your neck.

“I hate to remind you that I am the fucking devil,” his voice dripped with a poison much worse than what you’ve heard from Alastor’s static. His horns hadn’t sprouted out yet but with his eyes aching red, it wasn’t too far from reappearing. “And if you love me as much as I love you then there is no goddamn way in this realm I am sharing you with anyone else let alone some overlord who thinks Alexander is worth anyone’s fucking time.”

“It’s Alastor and—” you paused, combing through your hair idly. “Luci, Vox is only a friend from the living world—“

“A friend who thinks he can fuck you.”

“He’s in hell for a reason.” You crossed your arms.

Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, the red dissipating from them once they reopened.

“Listen, honey, I—” Lucifer’s gaze lifted away from you for a moment, almost like he’d been overwhelmed with the words clogged in his throat. “You’re someone I can’t afford to … mess up … again. And I know that means simply letting you be. But also, I’ve just—I’ve lost so much, and I only just got Charlie back so I …”

You lifted your arm as your hand fell on his cheek, your thumb softly stroking him back and forth.

He closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he placed his hand on yours.

“I know Vox is just a friend. And I know it’s insane to think I’ll lose you to him, but … at the end of the day, this is hell. He still mocks the very thing we’re trying to achieve and I get that you’re not like that and that you’re not easily manipulated but I just …”

“Luci …” you muttered. You sat up and kissed him chastely on the cheek.

“I think about losing you a lot. I think about it to an irrational degree. So it’s not actually something you can fix. It’s something I have to do on my own.”

“Even if that’s true, I can still do my best to be with you and make sure you feel loved everyday. I really was a dick today, I had no idea you were … I’m s—”

“It’s okay. We …” Lucifer chuckled weakly. “We made up, remember?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Luci … you know I love you, right?”

“Like the sun loves the moon,” Lucifer said.

And you knew where it came from, maybe not its exact whereabouts but just how deep it was embedded to him, that statement; he himself had witnessed the creation of the sun and the moon. He knew the tides the two shared, the way their yearning for each other’s pull had been the natural way of things, the only way the people could ever experience day like they do night.

I know you love me because we love like it’s fate.

You and Lucifer walked into the hotel, your back slouched with Lucifer’s overcoat hanging over your shoulders as you folded your arms beneath them.

“Hey Charlie,” Lucifer greeted, and he told her daughter who was already making her way to you that you weren’t feeling well and that you needed rest. Of course, Charlie nodded and resumed her activities with her other friends.

You retired to Lucifer’s room, the left side of the bed while he took the right.

“I love you,” your chest exhausted what it had been used to holding for him, until you saw him.

“I love you, too,” Lucifer hummed back, a sigh escaping him like cherry blossoms in the wind.

“I love you for the soul you are beneath your bones.”

966 notes · View notes

minranghae · 2 years ago

Text

touch | 18+

》 pairing: c.jongho x f!reader

》 genre: hurt/comfort, smut, fluff

》 warnings: ceo!jongho, grumpy jongho, whiny reader, hurt/comfort, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, pet names (princess, baby, etc.), aftercare, makeup sex, age gap (not a major plot point)

》 wc: 4.2k

》 thank you so much for reading this, it's my first full fic that i've written on here!!!!! if i forgot any tags, please lmk :) reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 also, the main song i listened to when i wrote this was versace on the floor by bruno mars

“Jongho, sweetheart, don’t you think you should come to bed now? I think you deserve a break,” you whine as you enter his office, a pout forming on your lips seeing his still, working figure.

You take a moment to admire his features on your way in. His dark hair that perfectly framed his face, those piercing eyes that seemed to cut through you every time he looked at you, and those strong arms you just loved to be wrapped in whenever he hugged you.

Well, that was if he did decide to hug you. Just as strong as his arms is Jongho’s work ethic. Sure, any CEO is bound to be busy. When you’re busy it’s easy to get stressed, and when Jongho gets stressed, it’s as if you don’t exist. He was never super touchy to begin with, but every morning he retreats to his home office without even a hug or a kiss. Just a simple good morning, or sometimes, nothing at all. With Jongho’s already packed schedule and new business plans, it’s clear you weren’t going to get his attention any time soon. But, who would you be if you didn’t at least try to get some from him?

Making your way to his desk, you prepared yourself to put on your cutest face; wide puppy-dog eyes and a sad lip bite at the ready, but with the way Jongho looked up at you, the only emotion present on your face was nervousness. You could see the dark bags forming under his eyes, seemingly becoming darker by the second, and paired with his furrowed eyebrows, you began to think maybe it would've been better to just cuddle with your teddy bear tonight.

“I-it’s just when you work so hard like this, you don’t seem happy at all, you know? I just want to see you smile again. I know, I know, work is busy and you have deadlines and all that, but can’t you just come sleep with me… just this once? I miss you holding me every night. I feel so lonely, Jongie,” You pleaded with him in your shakiest voice. Maybe that would convince him, if he just saw how desperate you were to spend some time with him. Fidgeting with your hands, you awaited his response. Too anxious to look up at him, you focused your sight on the floor beneath you.

“Y/n, you know I can’t do that right now. It’ll get better, but I really need some quiet right now. So…” He looked at you with pursed lips, then quickly looked back towards the door. A silent signal that it was your time to leave. You weren’t going to let him get rid of you that quickly though. No, he just had to see it your way.

“Jongie, are you sure?” You questioned him with a higher pitch, using the nickname you know he usually melts for. He just leaned forward in his chair, pushing his glasses further up on his nose, trying to regain his focus. He let out a soft hum, acknowledging you, but deciding not to indulge you.

Soon, you find yourself sneaking behind him, your hands resting on his shoulders. You tried to press a kiss to his cheek, but he shrugged you off quickly with a huff of annoyance.

“Y/n, stop bothering me. I’ve got some really important stuff to catch up with here. Stop being so clingy.” Jongho breathed out, frustration evident in his words.

God, you’re such an idiot. Did you really expect this little plan of yours to work? Jongho is a busy man. You really shouldn’t bother him just because you’re feeling neglected. Sure, the bed is cold at night, but he does so much for you. You wouldn’t have the lifestyle you do without him. If you two hadn’t met that day two years ago, you'd still be a broke college student, struggling to make ends meet. Maybe instead of interrupting him, you should just be thankful for what you have. At the end of the day, at least he’s there.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes, “I’m sorry for interrupting Jongho. Won’t happen again.”

And with that, you scurried out of the office and back into your shared bedroom. The shared bedroom that was slowly becoming just yours each and every day.

--------

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your eyes shot open.

“God, what time is it?” You murmured to yourself, words slurring together. The bright light from your phone nearly blinded you as you checked the clock. It was 3 am. He’s just finishing now? I wish he would get some proper rest.

“Can I come in?” Jongho’s voice broke into the room. He sounded serious. What if he was getting ready to break up with you? After all, Jongho had always been one to cut out unnecessary distractions from his life. Normally you admired that; his determination and drive was nothing short of excellence. His maturity and guidance was what first attracted you to him. But it broke your heart knowing that you were next on his chopping block.

Truth is, Jongho heard you crying. Really, you’re not subtle when you’re upset. He went to check in on you a few hours ago, actually. But when he saw his t-shirt draped over the teddy bear he’d given you months ago, your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks pressed into said teddy bear, he knew he fucked up. The past few weeks had just been so stressful for him. With a never ending to-do list, Jongho didn’t have much time to think of anything else.

He did think of you though. He always did. The picture of you two on vacation that sat on his desk never went a day without being picked up to be examined. It was one of the first things you two did together as a couple, and god, he wished he could go back. Jongho normally didn’t show much affection in public, instead opting to keep his cold appearance up. But being there with you was too much for him. It’s like you two were connected at the hip on that vacation. Everywhere you went, Jongho had his hand on your hip or around your shoulders. You just make him so happy, and he loses himself around you. Not that that’s a bad thing.

He never wanted to make you upset. But, he lost track of himself. Of course, that wasn’t an excuse, but maybe if you saw it his way then you’d be able to forgive him. After checking in on you earlier, Jongho devised a plan. He quickly got to work in his office, this time solely focusing on you. He first made a call to an assistant of his, apologizing for the late notice of his request, and asked for a bouquet of flowers. He wanted something sweet and dainty- something that reminded him of you. Thirty minutes later, the assistant showed up with a bouquet of Lily of the Valley flowers, beautifully tied together with green and purple ribbon. Next, Jongho wrote a sweet note, apologizing for his treatment of you over the past couple of weeks. It was always hard for Jongho to express himself verbally, so this would be the best course of action for him. Finally, he had taken off of work for a week, allowing time for him to devote himself completely to you. He swore to himself that wasn’t going to let himself upset you anymore, and it was finally time to show you that.

You looked up at Jongho as he poked his head in from behind the door. His eyes softened as they met yours. He began walking towards you with his hands behind his back, hiding his surprise for you. But with the way you jumped up and just about sprinted to him, it seemed like he was the one in for a surprise.

“Look, I know I messed up Jongho. I’m sorry, I really am! Just, please don’t break up with me,” you looked up at him, guilt wracking every part of your body, “I promise it won’t happen again. I even cleaned up around here! I figured I’d get some of the more unimportant things out of here for you.”

Jongho looked around the room. He noticed the lack of knick knacks you always seemed to bring home with you after a day out. The sheets were changed from the pink floral set that you adored to a plain white set. Everything in the room seemed dull. The only semblance of normalcy left in the room was the teddy bear sitting on the bed.

“I-” Jongho started, not quite realizing what an effect he’d had on you. You were never one to change so easily; it was one of the things he loved about you. This only made him feel worse. Not only that, but the way your voice shook as you talked and the obvious tears swelling in your water lines, Jongho had to stop himself from crying.

“Sweetheart, I would never break up with you. You know that, right?” he reassured you, pulling out the bouquet and note he’d prepared. Your eyes lit up upon seeing this, confusion and relief swelling in your features simultaneously.

“Here,” he said, sitting down on the foot of your bed, beckoning you to join him. Just before you could sit next to him though, he patted his leg, signaling you to sit in lap. As you do, his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in as close to him as possible. He hands you the bouquet and note, allowing you a moment to look at the gift and read the note. As you read it, tears begin to fall down both of your faces. Sure, you felt like you needed to be touched like this, but you didn’t expect it to be as emotional as it was. As for Jongho, the guilt of hurting you had really begun to sting. Seeing you so broken up over a few absent-minded words had confused him at first. But once he finally had you in his arms again, he realized it had been weeks of neglect leading up to this point. He was hurting not only you, but himself, too. He just didn’t know he was doing it.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I never meant to hurt you like this,” he explained, wiping the tears away from your face and simply letting his own soak into his skin. His hands raked through your hair gently while he admired your face. “Never gonna let it happen again. Can’t believe I let this go for so long.”

“S’okay, Jongie,” you stammered out between soft cries. You tightened your arms around his neck even more, fingers gripping at shirt, as if he was going to leave any second. “I understand you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

“Princess, you’ll always be number one on my list. You’re my top priority,” he said, finally regaining his composure and moving you to straddle him. Taking the gifts from your hands, he gently placed them to the side and took your face into his hands. He circled his thumbs on your cheeks, quietly asking you to stop crying.

“I missed this, Jongho. I just love you so much. I’m sorry I’m such a burden sometimes-” but before you could continue, he cut you off.

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that should be sorry,” he looked deep into your eyes, making sure you internalized each word he said, “and I am. I’m so sorry, baby. I know how much you care, and I want you to know how much I care, too. I love you so, so much, darling. I know I’m not the best with my words, so will you let me make it up to you another way?” Jongho questioned, his fingers tracing the edge of your pajama shorts, occasionally sneaking underneath the fabric. His eyes met yours, looking needier than ever.

With your nod of approval, Jongho lifted your shirt off your body, exposing your bare chest. His hands were quick to touch you, rubbing and pulling lightly at each nipple. You leaned into him further with each touch, and soon, your lips connected in a sweet, tender kiss. Jongho only deepened the kiss as he let his hands run freely over your body, as if he were rediscovering a terrain that he had begun to forget. His hands snuck inside your shorts, past the band of your underwear, and began to rub soft circles into your clit. Occasionally, his fingers would briefly slip into your hole, gathering some of your slick to use as a lubricant, still circling your clit at a steady pace.

Jongho pressed his forehead against yours in order to catch your attention, “How do you want me, baby?”

“Doesn’t matter, just want you, Jongie,” you babbled, so desperate for him to go faster with his ministrations. Your hips bucked onto his fingers each time they left your clit, hoping he’d slip a finger fully in.

“Mm-mm,” he hummed, “It’s all about you tonight. Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he insisted. Awaiting a response, he pulled his hand from your shorts, eliciting a whine from you. He hooked his arms under your legs, picking you up and laying you down on the bed. Gently, he pulled your shorts and underwear off together in one go. You could almost see the sparkle in his eyes as they traversed your body. He leaned down leaving just inches between your faces, “You gonna answer me, baby?”

“I think I want your tongue-” you began, but before you could finish, Jongho had pulled you to the edge of the bed and kneeled down, coming face to face with your cunt. He lifted your bottom half up, placing one forearm under you and the other on top, letting your legs rest on top of his shoulders. He let one thumb come to your clit, picking up from where he left off earlier. It didn’t take him long to dive into your pussy. Lapping at it like a starved man, he’d drag his tongue up and down your soaked cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into you. With each drag of his tongue, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, but everytime Jongho heard an influx of moaning and felt your hips buck up, he’d slow down slightly, not wanting you to cum just yet.

“So pretty, princess,” He said, coming up for air. His mouth and chin glistened as he smiled up at you with nothing but affection. It was as if he were touching you for the first time all over again. He was trying to take things slow, wanting to solely focus on making you feel good, but he couldn’t help but rut himself into the mattress when he heard those sweet moans of yours. He removed his hand from your clit, bringing it down to your hole instead. He toyed at your entrance, not quite deciding if he should go in or not.

“Please Jongie, want your fingers, too.”

And his mind was made up. He plunged two fingers in, focusing his mouth on your clit now. Your pussy basically sucked his fingers in, a sloshing noise coming from it. Jongho watched your face contort in pleasure. Your eyebrows strung together and your cheeks stained with a light blush. What a sight to see. It only made him want to work you harder. Shoving his fingers in up to the knuckle this time, he pistoned in and out of you, occasionally twisting them upwards to press his fingertips into your most sensitive spots. He just couldn’t get enough of how amazing your pussy felt; so soft, warm, and wet. So perfect for him.

“Gonna cum, Jong…So close” you whined out, pleasure filling every inch of your body. It was like he was sent into overdrive, his soft licking at your clit turned into harsh sucking at it, lips surrounding the bud completely. His fingers fucked into you at a pace you’d yet to feel in your life. It was desperate on both ends, each of you melting completely into one another’s touch.

Jongho had almost missed it, too focused on getting you there to notice your quickly approaching orgasm. He lifted his head up to watch you cum, as it had always been one of his favorite sights. The way your head slammed back into the mattress and your back arched up, sending your tits into the air for him to admire made him swear up and down that you were an angel sent for him. Giving you time to come down, he listened to the warbled sounds coming from you and collected the slick that was slowly leaking out of you onto his fingers and pushed it back into you.

“Jesus Christ, I missed that,” Jongho said with a groan, standing up to hold you in his arms. He lifted your back up so you were now sitting on the edge of the bed with him still slotted in between your legs. He brushed some strands of hair out of your face, his hand coming down to trace your jawline. He brought your face up to his and stole a couple kisses from you. You nudged your face into his hand, hoping somehow it could stay there forever. Something about his touch was always so grounding.

“Still okay to keep going, sweetheart?” He looked down at you, hoping to get the greenlight from you.

You don't answer verbally, instead choosing to undo the buckle of his belt, using it to bring him in closer to you. As you unzip his pants and pull them down, his cock springs out, nearly hitting you in the face. Your tongue poked out of your mouth, getting ready to devour him until you felt his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes then. Lay back, baby. Gonna take such good care of you tonight.” He gently pushed you back, noticing a look of concern on your face.

“What? What’s wrong?” He said, slightly panicked.

“Don’t you want me to… you know,” You said, making a blowjob motion towards him.

God, you’re so cute.

“Darling, I’m making it up to you, aren’t I? You don’t have to do anything tonight, just let me make you feel good.” A smirk adorned his face, enamored with how sweet you are. His hands traced up and down your sides, a gentle, but steadying motion.

You reached your arms up, looping them around his neck to pull him into a kiss. It was chaste, quick and simple, but so passionate. It was as if you were kissing him for the first time again. You let his tongue explore your mouth, enjoying the low groan he let out as he did so. Barely breaking away, you looked into his eyes, deep and glistening, and asked, “Can I have you inside me now? Want’ to feel you inside.”

That was all he needed to hear before he lined himself up with your entrance, pumping his cock a few times before he did so. He teasingly dragged the tip up and down your folds before sinking into you. It was slow, but languid. He wanted you to feel every part of him, every vein and curve on him, just to remind you that you’d never have to go without again. His voice was low and throaty as he bottomed out, letting soft moans fall from his lips.

“Baby girl, you feel so good,” he stops, waiting for you to adjust to the size. Once ready, he pulls his hips back achingly slowly, almost pulling out all the way, just to force himself back in. Your fingers curled into his hair and your legs wrapped around his waist, begging for him to be deeper in you.

“Love feeling you inside like this, Jongie,” you whine, “please keep going.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he assured you, “never gonna leave you alone again.”

He took your face into his hands, planting kisses all over your face. His hips pick up their pace, hitting your sensitive spot repeatedly. While his pace was still slow, it was steady and deep. Jongho wasn’t fucking you to get himself off, he was fucking you to get you off. And god it felt so good. As his hips continued to snap into yours, the loud sound of skin on skin echoing in the room, you could feel yourself coming close to your climax. And you knew Jongho was almost there, too, based on the wince he let out each time he thrusted into you.

“I’m so close, Jongie, are you?” You asked, the heat burning in your core only getting warmer. He nodded, unable to speak through his own groaning. He planted one hand by your head to steady himself while the other took yours into his, lacing your fingers together. Even though his orgasm was slowly approaching, he wanted you to cum first. He forgot how much he loved the way it felt when you came on him.

Staring down at you, Jongho quickened his thrusts, making sure to hit that spot deep inside you that he knew felt so good. Over and over again, harder and harder. It sent a rush of electricity through your body, limbs shaking and back arching as your orgasm washed over you. He loved how your cunt clenched down on him, a warm rush of arousal pooling around the base of his cock.

“That was so good, princess. Such a sweet girl,” Jongho barely let out, “Think I’m gonna come now, too.”

“Want it inside me, Jongho.”

That was enough to send him over the edge. His hips rutted into yours desperately. Spilling his seed into you, he stopped thrusting and just sat there for a moment, basking in the warmth around him. His forehead pressed against yours, noses nudging together and eyes staring into each other with great affection.

“You forgive me yet?” He pulled out, eliciting a whine from you.

“I forgave you when I saw the flowers,” you chuckled, sitting up on your elbows. Jongho flopped down next to you. His chest rose and fell shallowly, trying to regain some of his breath.

“I figured,” he looked at you, eyes gleaming with joy, “but it was still nice, right?”

“Of course it was. I love it every time, you know that. And I missed it so much, you don’t even know.”

“Baby, I don’t even think I knew how much I needed it,” he pulled you into him, his hand massaging into the skin of your hip, “I know I said this, but I’m never gonna leave you like that again, got it?” You returned a simple nod, too tired to answer verbally.

“Ready to get cleaned up?” You answered again with a nod, sleep already seeping into your bones. Jongho left the room, heading to the bathroom to clean himself up and fill up the tub. Not long after, he came back for you, pulling you up into his arms to carry you to the bathroom. Checking the water temperature and deciding it was alright, he placed you into the tub. It was silent between you two, but that’s what you liked about aftercare with him. You didn’t need words to bring you back to your normal mindset, his touch was always enough.

His hands massaged your shoulders, knocking every knot and tight spot out of your body. They moved down your body, working until he could confidently say you wouldn’t feel sore in the morning. He then went on to take a washcloth to your body, scrubbing the sweat and other body fluids off of you, paying extra attention to the insides of your thighs. During all of this, he gently hummed one of your favorite songs. It was a ritual for him to care for you like this. It made him feel good, like he protected you like no one else could. Sure, he was always working, but when he was working to please you, it made him feel so much more important.

Once finished cleaning you off, he drained the tub. Turning his attention back to you, he planted a kiss to your forehead and helped you out of the tub. You purred as he wrapped a warm towel around you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you stayed there for a moment, just swaying in each other’s arms.

He didn’t want to say anything to ruin the quiet atmosphere in the bathroom, so instead he hooked a finger under your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. He placed a tender kiss to your lips, knowing that you’d understand just how much he cared for you in that moment.

#ateez fanfic #ateez jongho #jongho imagines #jongho fanfic #jongho comfort #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #jongho smut #kpop smut #jongho x y/n #kpop hard thoughts #sensesseries #minranghae #ateez fluff #jongho fluff

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formulapookie · 5 months ago

Note

I would love some marc/bez and rosquez fic recs if you have time < 3

YEAHHHHHHHH

I love doing thisss

marcmarc: I'd definitely check out

@anitalianfrie (on Ao3) it's a oneshot, straight up smut and it's reaaally good, not long but a really good read @yamahussy wrote a three parts fic that got me first into the ship, I loved it a lot, also more psychological smut? idk how to describe it in these terms, it's Marc messing with Bezz's head in a sexual way @yeastinfectionvale and the domestic marcmarc fics they wrote, really cute if you're feeling less like reading smut and more fluff of those two freaks @hotmessmaxpress wrote a fluffy piece about them and also a REALLY GOOD smut which is a threesome between Vale Marc and Bezz @boxboxluckybird and their amazingly cute crow!Bezz fic where EBzz collects and gifts trinkets to the ones he loves, including Marc and Marc...well read it and find out :) fluffy and reallyyyyyyyy cute, a bit angsy because BEzz doesn't believe in himself/is scared of Vale's opinion @vanillow WHAT CAN I SAY EXCEPT PERFECTION MADE FIC AUTHOR her turbulent -> smut, angst, fluff, it has everything you can possibly need or desire, hints to rosquez too, the scars Vale left on Marc and how Bezz tries to heal them somehow and the devil electric (there's a pt.2 too, this one's smut) they are OHHHH SO GOOD she's my personal favourite :) @montemei and their beautiful fic where the academy boys + Vale and Alex find out about Marcmarc is aaaaaaaa amazing it has both fluff and smut, the ending is OH SO GOOD

I would also say my fic but it's on hold for now so if you'd like to check it out be aware it didn't end it's just I've not been in the right mood to continue it

rosquez: oh god it's going to be long 😭

@vanillow ONCE AGAIN SHE'S AMAZING her reconciliation (for now just angst) and amnesia (ANGST AND FLUFF AND EXTERNAL POVS TOO IS AMAZING) AUs are amazingly written, also the cyborg! and the VR46!Marc AUs (still haven't read the last two but I swear I will) @yeastinfectionvale THE GENDERBENT ONE IS MY FAVVVVVV and also love this one fluff right here :) @anitalianfrie and her reconciliation fic that made me smile like a thousand times, it's rosquez reconciliation seen through tumblr eyes @sammyche oooooo not only her asks are amazing and her answers better, she wrote this smutshot here that I personally read like five times already, plus a really good WAG!Marc (seriously check out the asks and her answers you'll get lost into a ton of possibilities) @thesunthemoonthestarstheearth oh god THEIR TALENTTTTTT personal favourite is forever seeking ; forever binding it's angst, DEEP AND CRUEL ANGST but it's worth every tear (you WILL cry) also the fluffy one shot and the smut one :) they wrote other fics and they're all in their bio (I'd want to out them all but it's currently 1.30 am and I've got work tomorrow, but CHECK THEM OUT) @hotmessmaxpress HORROR AU HORROR AU HORROR AU -> angst and fluff, a beautiful introspection into Marc's mind, all of its parts, amazing showstopping spectacular ANDDDD their OnlyFans! AU smut and fluff, really beautiful and the cameo of my flop babies Bezz and Celin @moonshynecybin is a wonder with words, I love her fics, can't find the tags fo rall of them but go check out her blog!! @ray935sworld wrote a cute academy boys de-ageing fic where Vale and MArc are together and act like parents, beautifulll fluff @october3811 also wrote very intersting fics (Iswear I'd tag all of them but I'm tiredddd) @lastlatebraker and all her ficss

once again I surely forgot someone (sorry) I am just tired will cehck tomorrow moring and add those I forgot <33

as before I'd love for you to check out my rosquez fics too, they're all tagged in my pinned post, but no pressure, enjoy those I spoke about above first <333

#alice journal of asks #anon🩷#fic recsssss #marcmarc #bezquez #rosquez

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smolvenger · 2 months ago

Text

Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 22 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: Being invited to a dinner party, you and your companions seize the chance to get the first trove.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: >4K

Warnings: Some spicy flirting, but no actual smut. Not much, some angst. Greif and mentions of bullying. If I miss anything, let me know! Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

A/N: I have had major writer's block since moving into an apartment and starting grad school, but maybe something will come up and I will be blocked from Character AI bc I waste all of my time there now. Anyways, it is not perfect, but I just wanted it done. Ta da!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

You, Edith, your husband, Stella, and Sif huddled on a cafe table. The building was painted in pastel greens and pinks, with wide windows filtering in sunlight as guests chatted around all of you. But it was not so noisy that one could not focus on the manuscript. Edith sat at the other end, nervously drinking her coffee, her sandwich untouched. The rest of you huddled together tight to read it together, Sif being the one to turn the pages.

Loki did raise his eyebrow at a few points, Stella’s bulged out. Sif only had no facial reaction.

Edith’s story was about a ghost who haunted a woman in her home. She added details of the dark house and creaking wood. Of the ghost's skeletal fingers, a skull-like face was blank except for a wide mouth, open with sharp teeth. The characters seemed as real as flesh, with little details that only someone who observed others could make. At one point, the woman was asleep when the ghost screamed. The noise rattled the house and would not stop, waking the woman up in fright. It made you shiver.

The heroine had a past, as did the house, but it was not revealed. As you got to the end of the snippet, you were eager to know the truth, but Sif set the pages down on the table.

“Miss Cushing, that was incredible!” Stella cried, a hand over her heart. Perhaps it was still racing from the terror of the story.

Edith nodded with a smile, a blush coming up on her.

“Oh, thank you!” she replied. She sat up straighter, and her voice brighter.

“I had chills!” you added on.

“It…wasn’t bad at all,” Loki admitted.

“Well, when I was young. I saw something- and heard noises. I believe I encountered a ghost. I never forgot it,” she admitted. “Father never believed me, only a friend did.”

“A ghost?” Sif asked, she folded her arms.

Edith reached over. She carefully put her papers into the folder and wrapped her arms around it like a baby.

“Yes.” was all she said.

“And has this ghost been to you since, Miss Cushing?” Loki asked.

Edith set down the folder.

“No…. I wrote to explore that. I had an idea and it would never leave me. It was like a fever- I had to write it down. Besides, I always loved stories and books…Mama was the only woman I knew who loved them too and then she…she passed.”

She slumped, her eyes growing vacant. Stella reached out and held her hand.

“She would be proud of you now. Creating something and putting it out there, takes great courage,” you consoled.

A small smile flickered on Edith.

“When did she pass?” asked Stella.

“When I was ten,” answered Edith.

“All this while still a child? You poor thing!” replied Stella.

Edith let out a deep sigh.

“I hope you get published. There are women writers out there- you will be one of them in enough time if you keep at it,” you encouraged her.

“Thank you I…” there were tears in her eyes.

“Oh, is something wrong? We didn’t- offend you?” you asked. Digging into your reticule, you pulled out a handkerchief. Edith gripped onto it, twisting it anxiously.

“It’s only…I…I…” began Edith.

She hesitated. Her lips quivering, then she hung her head low and began her confession.

“No, you didn’t offend me at all, it’s only…I…I hated girls my age. When I was little, I was so obsessed with all those things- ghosts, death, books, novels. I struggled to relate to them when I was little because I just wanted to talk about what I was reading. They didn’t even…try to make room for me. I was excluded. I misunderstood their games and their words. I tried so hard, but it was never good enough. And as a child they-they…”

She paused.

“Mrs. McMichael’s daughter Eunice and her friends always bullied me. They brought me along to be their fool, something to kick at. And I…I just felt so alone…I always did…I didn’t like them. They laughed at me. Teased me. Locked me in rooms. Called me names. And even now that we’re grown…they still keep at it. And I always have to spend time with them. Trying to discuss ribbons at least and dealing with their jabs at most. And Mrs. McMichael…she…I’m always so scared I will say something wrong, something bad…and they’ll laugh at me again. I try so hard to be nice to them. To not strike back because it will only make things worse. But…I could never be myself. But even when I barely said anything, they would always find a way to insult me. To make me less. I didn’t want to go to balls. Go to anything. I didn’t want to go somewhere where I’d be a figure of scorn…and I was…I was always alone…”

“They’re cowards and fools,” Sif spat.

Edith smiled at that, wiping a few small tears with the handkerchief.

“Yes, they are. But…not since…since now I…I never could speak to anyone other than Michael, much less another woman, and I…I…” she babbled.

She smiled lightly, her tears still in her small eyes.

“Not until today. When I met all of you,” she completed.

“I guess we can all consider each other friends. And I’m glad to have you as one, Edith” you replied.

Edith then handed the handkerchief back, her face pink.

“Oh goodness, I just cried in public,” she sighed.

“It’s alright, it was rather small,” Stella assured her with a smile.

There was a small pause. Edith had gathered herself. Her appetite returned and she ate her sandwich. Topics went back and forth as the mood lightened. As the bill was paid, she turned to the rest of you.

“Oh- there is a dinner party later this week at my place. Father and I are hosting. It’s going to be a smaller, intimate affair but he said I could invite anyone I wanted…But…could I invite all of you?” she asked.

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“I think that-”

Clutching his hand, you cut in, interrupting him with an enthusiastic smile.

“We would love to be invited! Can my husband’s friends come too? In total- that should make eight of us, if you have the seats!” you replied.

Loki looked at you, but you squeezed his fist, signaling him to not speak.

“Yes, of course!” Edith promised. “Where are all of you staying.”

This time, you turned to Loki. He replied that his friend Mr. Pine found a hotel for all of them and that the RSVPs could be forwarded to the address and hotel rooms. Edith vowed to do so, scribbling the address on paper and saying the invites would arrive shortly. Saying your goodbyes, she then left the cafe with a bounce in her step.

Once the door closed, Loki flipped his face to all of you.

“What in the seven hels is going to a Midgard banquet going to accomplish?” he asked.

“That banquet is exactly where we need to be,” Sif replied. She made glares here and there to make sure no mortal was watching. Or a possible spy.

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“Edith has the ring. YN’s powers sensed it,” Stella explained.

“It’s in her house,” you added. “And unless you know how to break into a house tonight and not raise any suspicions with Edith, go ahead and say so.

Loki let out an exhale. His face relaxed.

“Oh…well then… we got lucky. Too lucky. To think me and the variants did all of that foolish searching when our dear, fair ladies walked right into it!” he commented.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The invitations arrived on notes the color of snow. The days seemed long and slow before the evening of the fateful dinner party arrived. Five of you, it was noted, all had similar faces and voices, the variants all agreed to tell others that they were distant relations in case someone asked questions. The men donned evening tuxedos. You were in a rich, dark green gown, Stella her sky blue, and Sif one of wine red.

“I should go. I want to be in the search. And I don’t want to be stuck where it’s dull,” Sif insisted.

“I’ll go with you, you need my powers to find the ring. And if Grendel were to strike, he wouldn’t do it in the middle of a crowded party,” you nodded.

It was then decided. You and Sif would look, while the rest distracted the hosts and partygoers.

Your cabs pulled up to the house. As servants took your coats and escorted you inside, you noted the light wood, the grandfather clock and mirrors, and the elaborate glass windows. Warm, light, and sweet.

“One would think this is like a fairy house.,” Thomas commented, looking about.

There were footsteps and distant chatter of a few guests. Then in came Edith, dressed in a cream dress with ruffles at the long neck and sleeves.

“Oh! Our party! Hello- welcome!” she greeted.

All of you exchanged greetings and names, ever polite and gracious to the strangers in your party. She smiled at you and the ones she met, and then she shook hands with Hal, Jonathan, Robert…

She paused with Thomas, locking eyes with her. She partially froze. Her smile dropped. Then she found herself again, her eyes flicking down and then back up.

“And you, sir?” she asked.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, esquire. And Miss Cushing- and I hear you are a talented writer, too, I presume?” he asked. He smiled back. But it was different than the merely happy-to-be-here-please-don’t-suspect-a-thing manners of the others. His eyes shined on her.

“Yes..yes, I am,” she admitted shyly. Though you could see her cheeks were pink.

“And of ghost stories, I heard?” he added.

“Oh- yes, that is my specialty,” she answered. She beamed at him like there was no one else in the party.

“Well then, I have a particular fondness for them. You must promise to let me read it, and if not- then tell me every last little detail about it,” he said.

She nodded and said she would. Then the door opened with a couple that just came in and she excused herself to greet them, but not before looking at Thomas one last time.

“Ah, the large party,” said a baritone voice.

There entered an older man, tall and broad with an impressive, grey beard. He smiled at each of you. But he turned to you, Sif, and Stella first.

“And you three are the ones who defended my daughter against the notorious Mrs. McMichael, yes?” he asked.

“Yes, we were the ones present,” you answered.

“Well then, I will always offer my warmest gratitude. Mrs. McMichael is fond of kicking the hornet's nest, we shall say,” he replied.

He reached out his hand and you shook it, his skin calloused. “I am Mr. Cushing.”

Edith led you down the short hall to the dining room. There were lit candles everywhere, making the scene lush and romantic. The table was set with a white cloth and vases of flowers and candelabras. The place was decorated with tall china cabinets, a stone fireplace, and a wall with tall windows. Appetizers were served on porcelain. Water was served in one glass and wine in another.

You waited through the courses. Engaging in topics as they came and went. The men seemed to all be doing fine. Though there were a few odd questions about the “business trip” and how they were related, Loki came up with lies on the spot to satisfy them. Sif held her posture uptight and helped herself to the main course, eating heartily and quickly. Stella cut up her chicken into small bits and always smiled. Edith and Thomas exchanged several glances and smiles, even when others were talking.

“Why, this is such a beautiful place, Miss Cushing! And what an elegant cake!” Stella praised as dessert arrived.

“Oh, thank you. The cook has never failed us once. Wait until you try a bite!” Edith said.

Taking in a deep breath, you calmed yourself. You made your jaw unclench and relaxed your shoulders. Focusing on the blank white of the tablecloth, you reached out your senses.

Ignoring the sounds of eating and sipping, the whispering of servants, you focused on the ring. Something was pulling you above the stairs. Edith’s bedroom was down that hall. It poked at you like an insistent child.

But where exactly was-

“And Mrs Laufeyson, how did you meet your husband?” asked Mr. Cushing.

Snapping back to the present, you looked up and smiled.

“Oh…I was dreadfully ill. And he heard of me and offered his help to make sure I had medical care. He saved my life…”

You turned to Loki.

“And not just my body, far more than that” she replied.

Loki sat up, his jaw a little loose. Then he smiled.

“Oh, how romantic!’ cried one guest.

Taking a bite of cake, you found it was layered, delicate, and sweet.

Slices were eaten and servants cleared plates. Some ladies went to one parlor and the men were trickling to another, but there were exceptions. Edith and Thomas were by the fire, talking and chatting- you even saw Edith laugh lightly. It was Jonathan who walked up to the host himself, Mr. Cushing, and was asking him about his business. Loki was beside him, in case any gaps needed filling. The rest of the men had the other variants, content to drink brandy and smoke, and seem innocent. Stella was listening intently to old ladies gossip, as they led her to the drawing room.

Loki then went up to you.

“Ah, and is it time?” he asked.

“Yes, it is,” you answered him quietly.

You shared a look at Sif. She nodded her head.

Both of you walked over to a far corner.

Loki raised his hand and two duplicates of you both appeared. Your husband smirked.

“Ah, now two of my lovely wife? Our nights could become a lot more interesting…” he whispered.

“Oh, stop it!” you teased.

He raised an eyebrow.

“But would you like a duplicate of me? Hm? To have two of your trickster god worshiping you at once? Pleasuring you until you couldn’t remember your name?” he whispered.

Feeling your toes curl in your shoes, you lightly swatted his arm.

“If my husband could control his lust for one hour, we have a ring to find,” you reminded him.

He gave you a wink, and then walked away with the duplicates to join the other men.

Making sure your steps were light, you both picked up your skirts and scurried up the steps. The servants were too busy with the party to take note. But you couldn’t waste time before one of them saw something.

You quickened to Edith’s room at the end of the hall. Reaching out your hand, you made sure it unlocked and got inside.

Turning around, you made sure the door was quietly closed and locked.

It was dark from the night, and full of books and childhood toys. Both of you eyed around.

“Use your gifts, find where it is!” Sif insisted.

Taking in another breath, you readied yourself. Ready to reach out your gifts and-

The door creaked open.

Both of you turned around.

The door opened by itself. The door handle still clicking up and down. It was a warm night and warm from the many people. But the room itself had turned cold. Uncomfortably cold.

“What-what is that?” you asked. Feeling the color drain from your face.

“The windows are closed- there is no wind” observed Sif.

A figure emerged at the end of the hall, hidden by the shadows.

A servant? No-this wasn’t a servant. It was a tall figure, dressed in black with a long, black veil as if in mourning. But there were no widows in the party guests, much less one dressed like that.

The woman moved over.

No- she didn’t move…

She glided over.

In a heartbeat, there was a gust of cold wind and she flew over. Her veiled face, you realized, was nothing more than a pitch-black skull. Hollow eye sockets. Black pitch dripped over her skeletal features.

She let out a scream before either of you could.

The specter flew over and grabbed you both by each arm. Reaching out, you saw her hands were only bones. Her touch was so cold, it numbed your skin. She shook both of you.

“THIEVES! THEIVES! THEIVES!” she screeched.

She threw both of you. You and Sif hit a wall and then fell onto the floor. You let out a sound despite yourself, catching yourself onto the rug below.

Sif reached her hand and put it over your mouth.

“If you scream, the servants and guests will come up,” she argued.

You had to bite your tongue. The lights in the room flickered on and off rapidly. The temperature was freezing in that room, and the specter pointed a bony finger toward you.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? STAY AWAY FROM HER! BURGLARS! THEIVES!” the spectre hissed.

You removed Sif’s hand, though kneeling, you were shaking. Books toppled from a bookshelf and papers on a desk flew about.

“Who are you? Are allied with Grendel?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The Spectre did not react. She only kept screeching.

“DO NOT LAY A HAND ON HER! BURGLAR!”

Sif unsheathed her sword.

“Grendel, no doubt. Something of his,” she muttered.

Sif ran forward, and with a grunt, she stabbed the woman through the stomach.

But there was no blood. And the specter did not budge. She did not seem the least bit hurt in any way.

She let out another scream- an ugly sound, like a broken sob, one that almost tore you.

Sif’s jaw hung open in surprise. The specter grabbed Sif by the throat.

“DO-NOT-TOUCH-HER!” it warned.

Sif struggled and tried to loosen, but the specter held on tight.

The memories of Edith at the cafe went back to you. It made sense- Edith saw a ghost when she was very young…she must have seen it here…it must have been right after…after she lost…

Everything made sense.

With shaky legs, you got back up and stated.

“I know who you are…you’re Mrs. Cushing- you’re Edith’s mother!” you declared.

The ghost paused, turning her skeletal face to you. The wind in the room vanished.

“We are not here to hurt your daughter- and that is my friend. We are here to help her, please let her go,” you asked.

The ghost released her skeletal hand. Sif fell to the floor, coughing and gasping in the air. You rushed forward and helped her.

“There is a ring Edith has…and it’s one of Grendel’s. It looks like this…” you began. From your pocket, you got out the copy.

The ghost looked at it.

“Do you know who Grendel is? His mortality is stuck in a few items. Including a ring like this. If he remains in power…he could hurt Edith. If we find the ring and destroy it, then he’ll be destroyed…Please…you only want to protect her. That’s why you were always watching over her, all that time she thought she was alone…and she was not. Could you help us?”

The ghost looked at you. It exhaled, the shadows around it flittering.

She took her finger and pointed to a chest. A drawer opened. And out floated a locked box. It unlocked and then floated over to your hands.

Looking inside were a few jewelry items…including that very ring.

You looked up at her.

“Thank you,” you said.

Sif plucked out the ring. You replaced it with the duplicate ring, setting in within the few earrings and trinkets.

The small box floated up, locked, and then was put in the drawer, where it shut.

The ghost let out another sound, like an exhale and a moan. The papers shuddered again and the grandfather in the clock rang the hour.

Then the shadows vanished, as did the ghost. Warmth returned to the room again, as did the light.

You cupped your mouth again, catching your breath.

“Oh…oh gods…” you whispered.

Sif pocketed the ring. Without saying a word, she looked at you and grabbed your hand.

“Hurry, princess,” she urged.

Both of you shuffled at once out of the room. Downstairs, the party remained as normal. It was as if no one heard any screams or rattling coming from upstairs.

Steps light, desperate to escape the scene, both you and Sif hurried out of the room. Your feet light. So there wasn’t a rumble as you went across the hall. Down the stairs. Squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate, you signaled Loki.

“We have it! Send the duplicates!”

Sure enough, your duplicates turned a corner of a wall outside of the parlor. You both walked over. They vanished like mist.

You took their places and walked in. Sipping coffee with the other ladies making idle chatter. Stella glanced at you both. You gave her a smile and a nod and her shoulders relaxed.

Drinking your tepid coffee, you let out an exhale as if to wash away everything that happened.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You both staid for two more days to avoid suspicion. But on the last day, Edith hurried to your hotel. She embraced you and Stella warmly, (though Sif seemed a little stiff as she did). The other gentlemen nodded.

“May I…may I write, please? I would like to hear from you…all of you,” Edith said,her eyes glancing to Thomas and then back. You felt bad for her, the poor girl would be at the mercy of the McMichaels again.

“We will. We’ll visit too if we can,” you promised her.

Thomas then stepped forward, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“May I have the pleasure of writing to you as well, Miss Cushing?” he asked.

She jumped at first. Her jaw lowered briefly, and then she smiled.

“Why- Yes, please,” she answered.

He took her hand and kissed it. You could feel the fluttering from Edith herself. Hal cocked an eyebrow, but Robert rolled his eyes.

Once she left, Jonathan made sure your keys were all returned. Loki took a hand and flicked open a portal.

One down, three more to go you silently counted out. But perhaps more than just ghosts awaited the next one. Things even worse…

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sauron-kraut · 7 months ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much for tagging me, @nihil-ism 🖤

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently 15.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

9,329 - you see, my works posted so far are either shorter one shots or ficlets/drabbles.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Silmarillion and adjacent works by Tolkien. :) And within this fandom it's almost exclusively about rather niche ships with Mairon. Let's see when/if I will write for other fandoms; I'd love to at some point.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Gods And Monsters

Sacrificial

Plaything

Sugar

Sacred

All of these are Mairon/Ar-Pharazôn. lmao

5. Do you respond to comments?

I will respond to every single (first) comment someone leaves on a fic of mine. I thorougly enjoy these little interactions and I want to show my appreciation to people who show me theirs.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That must be my double drabble Plaything I guess. At least if we talk about the very moment ending the fic. Throwing up from negative emotions and alcohol alike seems pretty... angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That must be Of Being Born and Little Deaths. Everyone (well...) is having a good time and it literally ends with an orgasm.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

So far I haven't and I'm very grateful for that.

9. Do you write smut?

I love writing smut. And I love weaving character analyses/studies and some poetry into it.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I don't, personally not a fan of crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven't, but sharing headcanons and ideas with others has endlessly inspired many of my fics.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Angbang (Melkor/Mairon). I love them, I will never be over them; they've been with me for ten years now, I could ramble on forever about how important this ship is to me and what it means to me. It's rather popular in fandom though and I feel like there's many great writers out there who have graced us with their brilliant work. That makes me feel like I don't necessarily need to... add to that somehow. I'd love to write (more) Angbang at some point but as far as writing goes my favorite ship is Mairon/Ar-Pharazôn (which many of you might have guessed at this point lol). It's rotten, it's biblical, it's a playground for all things terrible to me. And it's a rarepair (why??) and therefore (in my mind) lies like a bare field before me, ready to sow and play in. 🖤

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

No such thing. My WIP are my children and I will not abandon them. It might take many months but they will see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Building atmosphere, pretty lines, poetry, in some parts characterization. (Very) short formats are my strength in general.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Not really able to write anything plot-driven, sometimes dialogue (though I might have started to improve a little), prioritizing pretty imagery and rhythm/sound over meaning/sense sometimes, having difficulties writing longer stuff.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Not really my thing; could get awkard quickly imo.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Visual Kei bands (Moi dix Mois) when I was 14.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Easily my little double drabble Reverence. It illustrates nicely what I talked about regarding my writing strengths for question 17 imo.

Tagging @lvsifer, @curufiin, @cilil, @saintstars, @gardensofthemoon, @elevenelvenswords , @crackinthecup , @swanhild , @a-world-of-whimsy-5 and @i-did-not-mean-to (no pressure ofc and sorry if I forgot anyone, in that case: that's just my forgetful brain at work)

#tag game #m writes

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wesslan · 4 months ago

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20 questions for writers

thank you @adelfie for the tag<3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

18! (and one hidden). i did not think it was that many??? thought it was 10 tops, lol

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

272,860

3. What fandoms do you write for?

batman, used to write some dsmp, but now im kinda eeh about it. i also (for some godforsaken reason) have a harry potter WIP thats been sitting in my docs for like two years that i kinda wanna finish, kinda not (jk r*wling suck my dick challenge)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

cards on the table

when in gotham: don’t drink the water

robin radio

o bury me not on the lone prairie

and their dreams they dreamed awake

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try!!!! the number overwhelms me sometimes, but i try to answer when i have the energy! :,)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh god, i mean… i pretty much only write happy/hopeful endings🤠 mayyyybe ‘you have (1) new message’? its not all the way angsty but it’s kind of?? angsty??

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

gee whizz buddy see above and take your pick, really

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i have gotten one (1) hate comment and i treasured it dearly until the person that posted it deleted it😭 other than that, nawt really. some people give unsolicited advice/critique, but thats about it

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

nope. not really my thing

10. Do you write crossovers?

again, not really my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of! sure hope it stays that way

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yesss!!! so cool! they asked permission, and now my fic exists in a whole other language!!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, and i think i’d be really awful at it. i cant say no to stuff, i cant keep deadlines, and i dont enjoy people being in the kitchen when i cook, so to speak

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

BAYBEY!! you KNOW i was a klance shipper first and a human second when i was like? 14? now tho? i’m shipping myself with sixteen hours of sleep and financial freedom. but also, deep in my heart,,,, charlie and carlisle from twilight. you could have been so beautiful.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

man at this point, who knows what i’ll finish. maybe instant repeater ‘99. i LOVE the concept and the world building. but also i kinda left the fandom,,,

16. What are your writing strengths?

people (including my interactive storytelling teacher) have told me im good at writing distinct characters/realistic dialogue! so i guess that! :,D

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

CONSISTENCY. finishing things. ending up hating what i’ve written like 3 months after it’s done.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

well,,, that’s what i always do. english is another language to me! cop out answer, lmao. but other than that, i guess i could be persuaded to write a few lines in spanish here and there. did study it for 7 years, after all.

overall, i thinks it pretty cool! as long as there is an ez translation somewhere, easy to understand without a translation, or if it’s not done in a way that bi/multilinguals absolutely would not speak B)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh god. percy jackson. it’s still out there somewhere. i forgot my username and password so i’ll prolly never find it (thank god) but yeah. it was solangelo bc i was closeted and emo.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

probably ‘mothman is real and he wants to kill me’. i had a lot of fun with it! i also really like ‘*cocks gun* manor’s haunted’ just because i based it off of the haunting of hill house which is like, one of the best books ever.

that was fun!!! thanks again for the tag! <3 i’m tagging whoever wants to do this, and also (no pressure) @quotidian-oblivion

puss å kram, skumbanan!!❤️

#(im so scared of tagging people)#(and following)#(thats why i have like two mutuals)#(i am not built for this (social interactions))#tag game #my silly little fanfics #wes rambles

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st-eve-barnes · 5 months ago

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Twenty Questions For Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @whitedarkmoonflower @arcielee and @lord-aldhelm❤️

1. how many works do you have on AO3?

Apparently 80 (when did that happen??)

2. what's your total AO3 word count?

702,386

3. what fandoms do you write for?

At the moment House of the dragon and other Ewan characters, previously The Last Kingdom, Stranger Things and a LOT of MCU

4. top five fics by kudos: After All Someone like you Heart to love All I wanted was you Nothing but a bad dream

(these are all Steve and/or Bucky fics)

5. do you respond to comments?

Of course! If I don't it's because I forgot but I always try to reply to every comment as I want people to know I really appreciate them.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I usually write happy endings or at least open endings but once I wrote this little heartbreaking Bucky fic called Oblivion that has the saddest ending

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'd say 95% of my fics have a very happy ending

8. do you get hate on fics?

I'm sure I have in all those years of writing but honestly I can't recall anything specific right now so it clearly hasn't stuck with me ;)

9. do you write smut?

Does the pope shit in the woods?🤭🤭 (the answer is yes, YES, a lot of smut)

10. craziest crossover?

I don't usually do crossovers so nothing crazy but I did write one fic combining modern Aegon and Sihtric from The last kingdom called You know that I'm no good

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a few people have come to me in the past to ask me if they could translate a fic and I gave permission both times on the condition that they link to my original fic

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I'm bad at group projects lol

14. all time favorite ship?

Used to be Stucky and I still think it's one of the best ships out there but atm it's more like Aegon-me-Aemond (I'm in my self indulgent era🤭🤭)

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh god, After All, it always comes down to that fic, it's the best thing I've ever written and I really want to finish it one day but as it's an old fandom I'm no longer in I don't know if I'll ever really get back to it.

16. what are your writing strengths?

Dialogue!

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Everything else lol

Mostly descriptions, setting the scene, creating the world and the set, it is so fucking hard for me.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I've done it before and it can really work in a fic. I wrote a Bucky fic once where he barely speaks and the few words he does say are in Romanian. It was a real challenge, esp for me as I LOVE dialogue so much, but it turned out so much better than I expected. Fic is called The man on the train

19. first fandom you wrote in?

MCU and more specifically Loki

20. favorite fic you've written?

Oh that's a tough one, I'll go with one I just reread this week and it's a modern Aemond fic called Into my arms

No pressure tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @aemonds-fire @sapphire-writes @exitpursuedbyavulcan

@bhxrdy @sylasthegrim @officialaemondtargaryen

#my writing

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charmwasjess · 6 months ago

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Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions Okay, this is embarrassing, because I got tagged in this like two weeks ago when I was in time zone stupor, copied the prompts out, and then forgot, and I think it was @stellanslashgeode who tagged me - if not, I will cry with embarrassment so don't tell me if I'm wrong.

And :'D I don't remember either who was tagged when it was going around, so here's some no pressure tags (and hop in if you want to play and I didn't tag you!) - @bolithesenate @calcedon79 @purple-ant @reconstructwriter

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

10!! :D Which is totally amazing to me. Where did they come from?! Who made them?!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

Oh god, almost 300k… I don’t have any explanation.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Star Wars! I can only handle one frenzied obsession at a time.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Sitting in the Dark, Five Days to Murder Sifo-Dyas, The Thunder Answered Back, Milk Run, and hey, aww, wow, Jedi Nights?!

I’m a little surprised any of my Sifo-Dyas/Dooku stuff beat out anything else, it’s such a little tiny ship!

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do, it's my favorite part. I get a tremendous amount of inspiration and energy from engaging with people who take the time to talk to me about my work. And friends, too! I have been in my fandom since I was like 11 or 12. I’ve made lifelong friends out of my comment sections.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm a sucker for a happy ending so a lot of them end on an upbeat note, but I can’t imagine The Thunder Answered Back ending on anything other than a mixed note. I'm not gonna be able to undo Order 66, you know? It’s a salvage job, not a fix it. If Jocasta gets through the fic without killing Dooku, we will call it a happy ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

My corny Five Days to Kill Sifo-Dyas probably has the most classical happy ending for the saga but my favorite is the one in Sitting in the Dark - Qui-Gon waking up on the couch with Rael asleep next to him, and listening to Dooku and Jocasta and Sifo-Dyas wash up after the party. That little kid feeling of being safe and sleepy with your adult family happy and laughing softly nearby.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Ohhhh, if I had a dollar for every time one of my friends made some joke about me writing Count Dooku porn! But I don't care about that, if they actually read my shit, their pervert asses would become terribly addicted to it. They’d be begging at my door. “More old man yaoi! PLEASE!” (This is a joke, my local friends have been very nice about my return to fic writing and the teasing is loving.)

Weirdly, the nastiest hate comment on a fic I’ve ever gotten was in the Before era, when I was writing fic on my old teen account. It was on a young Knight-age Dooku/Jocasta one shot. It was a simple, very vanilla romantic moment with a T rating at best so I don't really get why the person was so worked up about it? I think they just couldn't get around Dooku and Jocasta (OLD PEOPLE?!?) written as young and attractive. For years, I was horribly embarrassed about the fic, like it must really actually truly suck to have someone spend so much time writing such an extensive hate comment. I must have really fucked up.

I went back and reread it recently and realized: oh, no, it's a regular fic, they were just a fucking loser.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

The…sex kind!!

But yes, I do! Mostly Sifo-Dyas/Dooku these days, but also Jocasta/Dooku and once or twice the holy Trinity of the three.

I was REALLY shy about posting it at first and I still kind of can’t believe I did, but it was absurdly good for me as a person. Great for my religious purity culture baggage, my teenage years as a closeted queer person, just a really freeing experience.

And it’s hot. And you get to think about Dooku saying or thinking the word “erection,” which is worth it just for that.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nah, I’m boring.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, but I have been lucky enough to help with the English in bringing several of Purple Ant’s remarkable works over from Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep! In the Before time, I cowrote a lot, although I don’t think I posted much. One stands out: I remember this big rambling self-insert (we called them Mary Sues back then) I did with my bestie where we were transported to Star Wars world and we had to… I don’t exactly remember, but I think Obi-Wan falling in love with one or both of us was a big part? I went back and deleted it years later because it was so cringe. But that’s silly too - we were like twelve, of course it was silly and cringe!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I tend to be pretty fucking stupid about Syku.

It’s just. Two people who manage to collectively destroy their own universes together. They’re so connected in such strange, powerful, frightening ways, they know all of each other’s secrets, they were there on the worst days of each other’s lives, and will go on to be each other’s worst day of their life. And the way, even as they change, they can’t get away from each other, even though they both really try, it’s like they’re stuck in two orbits that have to cross.

And then you read the dumb book, and see that they’re just stupid funny and cute together, idiots who finish each other’s sentences and call each other little nicknames… augh, the bizarre sweetness of it?! It kills me. It’s the narrative doom, but also the weird, enduring love that has Dooku giving Sifo-Dyas a Jedi funeral or trying so earnestly to tell Obi-Wan his crazy version of events with his death, or how Sifo-Dyas goes running back to him for the Clone thing after he already knows so much about how Dooku factors into the end game...

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I will definitely finish The Thunder Answered Back but I kind of doubt I’ll get to the two years worth of content and every individual character’s endgame storyline I envisioned out of it. I'll stick with Dooku, Jocasta, Scout, and Asajj.

16. What are your writing strengths?

….this is embarrassing, but I tend to think I’m occasionally really funny.

Even though my fics are really serious and I haven’t written any crack, I really try to put in moments of humor, depending on my POV character’s dialogue or internal monologue. I think my best humor comes about when I can get Dooku and Sifo-Dyas in A Situation, slinging shit back and forth. Those two just take off.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I overwrite. My fics would be a lot more successful if I tightened up and left more on the cutting room floor. I get over attached to small moments of character at the expense of the plot (and let's be honest, word count.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Hmm, does sign language count? That has been really fun in Rabbit Heart. A huge chunk of the fic happens in sign language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

It’s got to be Milk Run, by a long shot. I’m really proud of that fic, but it was just such a blast to write. It was so fucking fun. And there’s all these little moments or tiny funny things I’ve left myself in it that are probably only funny to me, but they’re so funny to me.

….Like, so, at one point in the fic, Sifo-Dyas is pissed at Dooku because he can tell he and Jocasta have been sleeping together, again, and this always happens, and he always has to clean this mess and play mediator when it inevitably implodes (and also maybe he is in love with Dooku a little bit?). So he’s furious about it, but pretending not to be, and so he bitchily tells Dooku the name of his ship is The Haru-Spicy, as in, a cooking pun, instead of the real name, The Haruspicy. And then Dooku spends the entire rest of the fic just wildly mispronouncing the name of the ship in his own POV chapters and to other characters?

I love to imagine him saying it, all declarative, “The Haru-Spicy!” And everyone just stares like “do we correct him… or…?” Sifo-Dyas quietly soothing himself, chuckling over this small pettiness. Cracks me up.

#this was really fun thanks for the tag!!#really I couldn't remember who had already been tagged when I was offline so DO PLEASE tag yourself if you want to play this is a blast #charm stuff #fic things

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kazosa · 2 years ago

Text

Wildwood Sequel: Interlude

Summary: Jensen and the reader are in a soft, blissful part of their relationship before reality fully kicks in. They go back to Y|N’s house, with the touches she added with Jensen in mind, to slowly ease back into the swing of their lives. They have a lot to do before they go to Texas, like breaking the news to Y|N’s mother and brother. Jensen still has some secrets to reveal.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x female reader

Word count: 18429

Warnings: really covers the gammut... swearing, drinking, yelling, jealousy...

a/n: this is pure fiction in regards to the real life celebrities. They are merely a face-grab for characters of my creation.

Tags: @coffee-obsessed-writer @leigh70 @sandlee44 @coldhearted93 @djs8891 @magssteenkamp @babykalika2001 @ladysparkles78 @supernatural3002

The dog days of summer were ending and it felt more like fall the morning when they left Wildwood. He’d taken care of the cabin the night before and even cleaned out the fireplace. It meant there would be no heat running in the cabin, but he and Y|N had found ways to stay warm. Going back to reality would be an adjustment to both of their lives and he was confident they would figure it out together.

Before Y|N got to the cabin, he’d been so out of sorts. He couldn’t make any sense about what to do about his situation. Then, as time passed, he was beginning to wonder if she would find him. When he finally realized it was her walking down his road, the relief set in. The giant, swirling abyss dissipated. She, somehow, always would show up when he needed her most. Sure, he’d given her a clue, but she showed up. She still cared.

He looked over at the passenger seat where she sat in his truck. She’d only gotten more beautiful as time had passed. He couldn’t stop sneaking glances at her and she’d caught him more than once. Y|N would smile a little, tuck her hair behind her ear and look down. When he would catch her watching him, he knew she still had some kind of feelings for him, too. Even if it was pure lust, or just pent-up years of desire, he would take it because he had been holding them in, too. He really couldn’t get enough of her.

They were basically driving into the sun, but it didn’t bother her too much. She had her head down, writing in the notebook she’d forced him to stop to buy. It was bright enough that she still wore sunglasses as she wrote and the sun gave her hair a halo. His angel. Once in a while, she would whisper two sides of a conversation, or other bits of dialog before putting the pen back to the paper to continue the flurry of writing. She went on like that for a couple hours before she lost some speed.

She turned yet another page in the notebook and wrote something at the top of the page before she finally gave him her attention again.

“Okay, we need to talk about some stuff. I need your opinion on things,” she said.

“God, finally,” he said. “You’ve been so quiet, except for whispering dialog, I thought you forgot me.”

“Oh honey, I could never forget about your fine self. Look at you, you sexy sonofabitch,” she said. She smirked when she saw how pink his ears got. “I was writing so I could get the scene out of my head so I could get to you.”

“Get to me?”

“I’m starting a new book in a series I do and I want your input,” she explained.

“I thought you were never going to use me as your smut muse?” he said. “I think we have a pretty good story going.”

“Oh my sweet boy,” she said, “you really are adorable. Let me ask you this, have you read any good books lately?”

“Not lately, but yeah. It’s this guy, a lawman, who fell from grace, gets a job as sheriff in some backwoods area during prohibition, tries to take down bootleggers and other bad guys…”

“... encounters some weird shit in the woods and has an eye for the lady that runs the diner?” she finished for him.

“Yeah, you know the books?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, it hit him. “Are you telling me you’re Ross Black?”

You laughed, “Yeah. Honestly, I thought you knew. I did kind of make it obvious.” You waited as he thought it over. “It’s basically you and all of the cool western lawmen and broken lead characters. Dean, Clint, you, Longmire. Rolled ‘em all up to make Hobart Gibson. Hell, I even gave him your physical description.”

“Hold on,” he raised his index finger at you as he drove. “I need to process this.”

You patiently waited for him to think it all through.

“So, you’re Nova Scott, who, from what I can tell since I’m not allowed to read the books, is on par with Nicholas Sparks and Danielle Steel, and have published however many of those…”

“...about a dozen,” you answered.

“A handful have been made into major motion pictures. Not only am I not in any of those movies, I’m also not the muse. And yet, every single one had some big name in it and made a shitload of money.”

“Are you telling me you want to do a romance movie?”

“No. …I don’t know… maybe?”

“Well, what do you think of Whiskey Hollow and Bart Gibson?” you asked. You’d spent a lot of time and energy getting the character just right.

Jensen looked at you a moment, “He’s a total badass. I love how salty he is, but is soft for Lill.” He paused, “You ever gonna get them together?”

“Do you think they should?” you already had it in the plans but you wanted to hear his opinion.

“She’s obviously in love with Bart.”

“It’s obvious?”

“Every time Bart goes to the diner, Lill personally makes his favorite sandwich and gives him a cookie. If she didn’t love him…”

“... no cookie?” you grinned.

“No cookie,” he tipped his head, his eyes still on the road. “Sugar was precious in the depression. You don’t just slip random people a cookie.”

“Unless she’s in love?”

“Unless she’s in love.”

“Is that why you give me ring-pops, ‘cause you’re in love with me?”

He looked directly at you before switching back to the road and back to you again, “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Depends on your answer.”

“Have I given you more than one?”

“Jay, you don’t forget much. I know you remember.” There have been many over the years.

He sighed. “I knew it was a trap,” he muttered. “You already know I love you.”

You nodded, “I know that.”

“Is Bart going to make a move on Lill? Are you getting any movie options offers coming in?” he asked.

“Lillian isn’t going to make the first move, I can tell you that much. If he has any kind of warm fuzzies for her, he has to tell her. Cookies and ring-pops won’t cut it. They’re gestures, she wants to hear him say it.”

“He’s not going to say it just because she wants to hear it. If he’s going to tell her he’s in love with her, he’ll do it when he’s ready.”

“Nearly three decades isn’t enough time to work up the nerve?”

“I knew we weren’t talking about Bart and Lill anymore…” he let out a sound of annoyance.

“Who do you think Hobart and Lillian are, Jay?”

“We were only able to get together a few weeks ago. I hadn’t seen you in person in over three years. If we, you and I, are going to be together, I want to do things the right way and that means taking things one step at a time, getting familiar with each other again.”

“Don’t I get a say in this? Relationships are give and take and I feel like I’m doing all the giving. I left my job to come find you. I know I don’t need the job, but that isn’t the point. That’s a burnt bridge.”

“Just like you can’t demand I tell you I’m in love with you. If I want to say it, I will when I’m ready. Individually, you and I have been through too much shit to not try to give us the best shot possible and that’s exactly what I want to do. Are you going to do the same or are you going to keep fucking pushing?”

“Knowitall,” you grumbled.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you’re the same way. You’re one of the smartest people I know, but you also know you’re smart and don’t leave room for other people’s opinions.”

“Even if they’re wrong?”

“See?” he raised his index finger and wagged it in your direction. “That right there. That’s why it’s an opinion. Just because it’s different from yours, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“Oh really? You sure were vocal when you thought I was wrong about things,” you countered.

“When?! Examples.”

“Every single guy I dated was either an asshole or a douchebag, as you were all too happy to point out.”

“But they were douchebags and assholes. Knew from the start Grant was a manchild freeloader.”

“That may be true, but in that case, your opinion was irrelevant because he was my choice. And not all of them were bad guys, they just weren’t a good match for me.”

“And that’s what makes them douchebags.”

“You married the one I told you was a stuck-up, snobby-assed bitch. What’s really got a bug up your ass, Jay? Seems like we both made dumb choices in the name of love.”

He went silent. You weren’t entirely sure if you’d really made him mad or not. He had both hands on the wheel and slightly tipped back, the expression on his face was changing from annoyed to resolve over and over again.

“Jesus, I can see you thinking in there. You're gonna say what’s on your mind or do you need to pull over and walk it off?” your tone was still snotty.

He clenched his jaw and you decided, maybe too late, to shut up and cool off, yourself, while you rode in silence. He needed to do the same, you supposed. You forgot that he liked to take time to think things through. You should have known not to push him so hard. He needed the time to consider all options and you were more in the moment and needing immediate action.

“Hey,” you wanted to apologize, but the truck began to slow down. He might have needed to walk it off after all. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t say anything, he only pulled over and stopped the truck, putting it in park. He got out and you watched as he walked around the front and came to your door.

He flung open your door, “I take it back.”

Confused, you asked, “Take what back?”

“When I said we shouldn’t try to be together because of our careers. When I said it wasn’t “our time” I was full of shit then and I knew it. I wanted you. I always wanted you. I knew that Christmas at my parents’ house that I didn’t want to let you go. When you told my mom we were just friends? I didn’t like it. All of those boyfriends you had were douchebags because they weren’t me. No one would ever love you, or treat you as well as me.”

He stepped on the running board, leaned in and unbuckled your seatbelt, then turned your knees toward him as he stepped down.

“I should never have let you get on that airplane. I knew I was in love with you then, just like I’m in love with you still.”

He took off his sunglasses and looked up at you in the truck.

Your hands went to his face and neck, touching him wherever you could reach.

“Promise me one thing?” he asked.

“Anything,” you whispered.

“Never be away more than a couple days,” he said.

You nodded.

“Honey, I need you to say it.”

You slid to the edge of the seat and out of the truck. Jensen kept his hands on you, helping you down to the ground, his arms around your waist.

“My sweet boy, I promise, never to be away more than a couple days,” you managed to say while looking into his beautiful green eyes.

The intensity that Jensen exuded could often be overwhelming or scary depending on the situation. He wasn’t one to throw away words. He said what he meant. He was in love with you.

His forehead rested on yours as you stroked his head and neck. “I could never give my whole heart to someone because you had it, Jensen, my whole heart, since the day we met. I was so scared I would never see you again. I cried when we left the hotel, just like I did when I got on the airplane. I shouldn’t have left.”

If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly to his body, you might have started crying. As it was, you felt like you could barely breathe. Putting words to feelings you’d held down so firmly and for so long seemed to have robbed you of oxygen. It was amazing to finally be able to say it out loud and to the man you’d loved since he was a boy.

He tipped his head down and to the side, his lips meeting yours with subdued passion. The occasional car driving by reminded you both you were still in public. Jensen had been extremely private in his relationship with Danneel. Making out with him on the side of the road felt somewhat out of character. It wasn’t until the last car that went by and honked their horn that he decided to come up for air.

“We’ll finish this later,” he said.

“Jay,” you stopped him. He came back to you, his hand cupping your face. “I’m sorry for pushing too hard. I didn’t mean to upset you, that was the last thing I wanted. I just get hyper aware of what I want and get too focused on it.”

“Mhm,” he grumbled, “you’re forgiven.” He gave you a quick peck.

“Hey Jay, remember when we did the photobooth?” He nodded, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I was really glad to have you as a friend, but that’s also when you were more than a friend. No one has ever been good enough since then, because, whether I knew it or not, I was in love with you, too.”

“Now you’re just sucking up so you can see my half of the photo strip.”

“Please, can I see it? I didn’t even know you still had it,” you said. “I didn’t take you for that kind of sentimentality.”

He went to the back of the truck and hopped in with his usual athletic grace that still irritated the crap out of you. He barely put any effort into staying fit. Minimal cardio, minimal weight training, and he was good at everything. He went to the box you hadn’t even noticed he’d put on the truck. It was inside a bungee’d bin and he pulled out the box you’d seen at the cabin with “Nova” written on it. Sliding the box to the end, you were there to open the tailgate and join him when he sat down.

He opened the box for you to see all of the contents loose inside. Most of the letters that he kept were in their envelopes and only a few loose cards and pages. He’d kept a few things you’d given him, including a bottle of sand from the lake trip when you were kids, to the trinket you won at the arcade in Dallas. Something caught your eye at the bottom of the box, though.

“Are you kidding me right now?” you couldn’t believe your eyes. You immediately recognize the white and black material and black nylon straps.

“I guess it wasn’t so bad after all,” he shrugged.

“Now I know why you wouldn’t let me dig in the box at the cabin,” you said. “But why now? And how did you even sneak this out of my apartment? How did you find it?”

“When I was looking for stuff that belonged to fuckface to throw out. I had a moment of weakness. Look inside,” he said.

After you unzipped the main pouch, you looked inside to find a piece of folded paper. Opening it, you saw what might have been the first letter you ever wrote Jensen. You remembered the aquatic stationery that you’d been so happy to find. In the folds of the paper was the bottom half of the photo strip. The edges were worn and some of the edges of the pictures were damaged, but the important parts were still there.”

“I think you were laughing at some dumb face I was making. And that bottom one, that’s my favorite,” he said, shyly. “You still look at me like that, you know.”

It was the picture of your forehead on his that got you, the bottom picture. Your face had a happy smile, your hand on his chest next to his neck and your other arm around his shoulders. The look on his face and the body language of you both spoke volumes. You put the picture down and looked up at him, speechless.

“I thought about it… kissing you… really wished you had tried. I was too shy and scared of your dad to make a move,” he admitted.

You wiped your eyes, “Honestly, I wish I had too, but I was too scared and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing to even attempt it.”

“Me either,” he admitted, “but I was willing to find out, if you were.”

You couldn’t stop looking at the pictures. The top half was in your house and you’d seen them many times, but the bottom half was so different. There was an undeniable shift in the bottom. The top was just two kids having a good time. The bottom was two kids having a very intimate moment.

Jensen started putting things back in the box and gently took the photo strip from you. “Alright, let’s just pretend you didn’t see those.”

“Nope, too late. I already know the truth.”

“What’s that?”

You watched him put the box back in the bin and secure the bungee cords.

“Despite years of blatant denial, you are, in fact, a hopeless romantic, Jensen Ackles.”

He hopped down from the truck bed and stood directly in front of you, pushing your knees apart to stand closer. You locked your legs around him as your fingertips went under his shirt to caress his warm belly. His skin shuddered at your touch, his breath catching.

“Sweetheart… you tryin’a jump my bones on the side of the road?” he asked, not hating it.

“Maybe.”

“How long to your house?”

You eased up on him, but it was hard to not keep going.

“Not sure, but I think we’re at least four hours away, still,” you said.

“Grab on,” he said, then quickly added, “around my neck.”

You did as he asked, then he did the rest and carried you to the passenger side of the truck where he put you down. He did it like it was nothing, not even so much as a grunt. He took a moment to give your ass a smack before moving on to close the tailgate and get back inside the cab of the truck.

When you were back on the highway, your mind went back to Bart and Lill.

“Jay…I do need to talk to you about Whiskey Hollow and…” you trailed off. It wasn’t like one of your books hadn’t been turned into a movie before, but this time was different.

“Shoot,” he replied.

“You do like the series, right? And the characters? I mean, I did write Bart for you, specifically…” you really needed the validation from him.

“Yeah, I really do. Bart isn’t strictly me or any of the people you mentioned, but an amalgamation. I like him a lot. A good man who does the best he can and isn’t perfect. Bart’s backstory is good and it definitely explains why he is the way he is.” He gave you a pointed look, “I’d tell you if I thought it was shit.”

“Okay, good. Please always give me your honest opinion… when it’s work-related.”

“And if it’s not work-related?”

You smiled, “I always look good in whatever outfit I choose.”

He nodded once, “That won’t be a problem.”

“So… my agent was begging me to write a script for Whiskey Hollow rather than have another writer do it. She wants to shop it around to studios and see if anyone will pick it up. But I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ve never written a script before and have no clue about what’s important. I want to do a good job and I need your help. I don’t want to embarrass myself, especially on my own story.”

“You won’t embarrass yourself,” he said. “Alright, hit me. How can I help?”

Over the next two hours, you wrote as fast as your brain and hands would allow. Thankfully, you’d adapted a shorthand method that made getting your flow of words out quickly without losing anything. Eventually, Jensen needed to pull over for gas and you both took the opportunity to use the restroom and grab some food for the ride, especially since you were sure there wasn’t anything to eat at your house.

“What’s all this?” he pointed at your purchases on the counter.

“Milk. Bread. Jelly. Peanut butter. Chips,” you said. “Pretty standard stuff.”

“How are we going to make sandwiches in the truck?”

“Very carefully.”

You pointed him in the direction of the paper plates and plastic cutlery to complete your grocery shopping. You paid for all of the food and gas for this stop and were back on the road fairly quickly after. Jensen held out the keys to you and told you he needed a nap. Gladly, you took the keys and got comfy in his truck. It never failed to amaze you at how quickly he could shut off his brain and go to sleep. Before he was totally out, you let him know you needed to make some calls and he gave you a thumbs-up without opening his eyes.

When you got your earbuds in, you pushed a button on your phone, then said, “Call Jen.”

She picked up on the third ring.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

“I told you,” you spoke quietly, “I needed to find Jensen.”

“That was almost a month ago, Y|N.”

“It took a minute.”

“Does that mean you found his fine ass?” Jen asked.

“I sure did,” you still kept your voice low. “About three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks ago?! So you found him almost right away? What the hell were you doing? Were you doing him?”

“Shh! Yes, we were making up for lost time. I’m with him right now, in his truck, and we’re going to my house. I know I don’t have to remind you, but please keep this quiet. We’re going to need to go to Texas at some point.”

Jen was only just beginning to process what you’d told her. “How was the sex? Was he any good? Did you scream?”

“Jen!”

“I can hear your friend,” Jensen said, quietly.

“Oh my god, he can hear you,” the blush quickly rose to your cheeks.

“No, go ahead, tell her. I want to hear your answer,” he paused. “Tell the truth,” he cracked open an eye.

“I’ll talk to you later, Jen,” you were mortified. “I need to call Janice, too.”

You disconnected the call and turned down the volume in your earbuds. You were about to call your manager, but Jensen was curious.

“Well?” he asked.

“Do you really want me to tell you?” you countered, hoping he would drop it.

“I can take constructive criticism,” he said.

You decided to just say it. “You are the only person to crack the code. A few have gotten close, but you… are masterful,” you couldn’t bear to look at him.

He gave a sleepy little fist pump and grin before crossing his arms over his chest again and closing his eyes. You waited a good twenty minutes before you attempted to call your agent, Jan. The two of you discussed the books you had going and what you’d been doing, then caught her up to the details about the script she wanted you to write.

“Sweetie,” she began, “you know I love that you have two secret identities, but you need to give me more to do. You have phenomenal numbers in BOTH fan bases. When will you let me get you on TV for some promotion? We really need an author reveal. Also, I have a big-wig on the hook for your script, really need you to get that to me as soon as you can, sweets.”

“I promise, I’m making progress. I bought the software. I have a consultant. I just need a few moments peace to crank the sucker out,” you liked Jan a lot, but there were times you wanted to kick her, not super, hard, but enough to leave a bruise.

“What would it take to get you out on a promotion circuit?”

“A miracle.”

“Pretend I’m a magic genie. If we’re gonna do a reveal, let’s go big,” she said.

“I have conditions,” you said.

“Lay ‘em on me, sweetie. Genie Jan is ready,” she said.

“If you manage to sucker someone into buying the script… if the studio or producers give the green light… I will do TV with whomever is cast as Bart. I want it noted with emphasis that Jensen Ackles should be strongly considered for Bart. He is, after all, whom I was thinking of when writing Bart. I will do Seth Meyers with Jensen.”

“Jensen Ackles? Are you sure? Isn’t he kind of imploding right now? Aren’t they still looking for him?” Jan asked.

“He’s on my wishlist, Jan. He is the one who should play Bart,” you reiterated.

“Sweetie, I understand. I just want the best possible outcome.”

“Anyway, I’m sure he’ll be found soon. That woman’s story isn’t ringing true, either. I think she was just trying to scam money out of him.”

“And you want Seth Meyers? Why not one of the Jimmy’s?” she asked.

“I’m a fan and I dated a Jimmy, It didn’t go well. Besides, Seth is funny and the only late night show I’ll watch,” you explained.

“If I can get you on Seth’s show, you’ll do it and not back out?”

“My conditions are simple. I will do it, but it must be like that.”

“Alright, I can work with that,” she said.

You ended the call shortly after that and felt a lot better about things moving forward, not just with your career, but also with Jensen. When you did get home, you were going to look into that “hussy”, as Donna called her, and see what you could find out, maybe enlist the help of Shelley. You just wanted to ask the woman why she was targeting Jensen. You drove on in silence thinking of all the things you wanted and needed to do when you got to the house. Before you knew it, you were driving 25 mph down the main drag of your hometown and Jensen stirred awake at the speed change.

As you got closer to your old apartment, you looked up and noted the light was on in the living room.

“Mom is still up,” you looked at the clock, 10:09 PM.

Jensen looked up at the windows as you stopped for the stop light. “It’s weird not going to your apartment.”

“I know. Before today, now, it didn’t bother me, but it does feel strange.” The light changed and you drove on toward the bridge. “I hope you like my house, though. I did a couple things with you in mind.”

“You did?”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s for me, too, but I thought you’d find them appealing,” you said.

“You didn’t have to do that. Your apartment was great though,” he said. Curiosity got the better of him, “What things?”

“I’ll give you a tour when we get there,” you said, crossing the bridge that went over the river. “I’ve had to buy a lot of stuff just to maintain the land, it’s ridiculous, and I had to have out buildings built. I’m a proper adult.”

He snorted, “Do you use the equipment?”

Sometimes it was annoying how he could see through your bullshit so easily. “Sometimes. Shut up!” you laughed. “I hired a guy I went to school with to come out to mow and plow once a week and as needed. I use the mower to keep my trail growth down and the snowblower is hella cool.”

Jensen just stared at you as you turned onto your road.

“Stop looking at me like that, weirdo,” you pulled up to the gate and entered the, very particular to you and Jensen, code. You’d embraced your secret life, the one where you were a notable author with a hot and famous best friend, who had become your boyfriend. It was something like your own inside joke. If anyone had ever guessed how you were able to buy land and build a house, no one ever said anything to you. You found most people didn’t ask questions if they got paid well for their work and you were a generous tipper. Every little bit helps.

The gate came to life and rolled open, enhancing the anticipation. You really wanted him to like what you had created. When it opened and you pulled ahead and stopped for it to close before moving on. The driveway to your house was lit with small lights to lead the way. The house itself wasn’t visible from the road and you followed the driveway to the left and through the trees around a small hill. After the trees, the land opened up into a clearing where your house stood. Every time you drove through the trees and the house appeared, it struck you that the modern appearance of the home was so well complimented by its surroundings.

“Whoa. That’s… I don’t even know what…” Jensen sputtered.

“Good, though, right?” you were quite proud of your home.

“Yeah, I like it. I honestly didn’t know what to expect.”

You pulled around to the side where the garage doors were and parked in front of the middle door. When you hopped out and went to the hidden keypad by the door, Jensen crawled into the driver’s seat and pulled into the open garage space when the door fully opened. You went to the inside control panel to close the garage and turn on the lights.

The stark white interior was nearly blinding from driving in the dark for so long. Jensen had gotten out of the truck by then and was looking all around the inside of the garage. It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the classic car in the third stall.

“What have we here?” he said, admiring the car.

He was about to cup his hands around his eyes to peek in the window when you said, “My dad’s car.”

Jensen immediately stood up straight without touching the car in the third stall. “Your dad’s?”

You nodded, “Mhm. I started looking for it before the pandemic. It was a bitch to do, but my aunt works in the treasurer’s office and hooked me up with the VIN. Made it a lot easier to track down.”

“Wait, this is his actual car?” You nodded. “How long was it gone? And what condition was it in when you got it?”

You sighed heavily. “It was in pretty bad shape. Dad sold it before I was even born. He loved it.” It was impossible to not be a little sad and a lot mad. You had put these details in letters you’d sent to Jensen in Austin. “She kept a lot more from you than I thought… I put all of this in the mail, Jay.” You tried to keep the anger out of your voice, but you knew it seeped in. If anything, you understood why she did it. You and Jensen were so close, but it still made you mad since you both had tried so hard to stay platonic.

He stood silent for a few moments, “Alright. Can we go inside and talk about this?”

He grabbed the bags out of the truck and followed you inside. You led him through the laundry room and into the main house. You noticed he looked around to take everything in. The house itself wasn’t huge, but you’d also gotten creative with the design. Hidden spaces, secret doors, everything you’d ever wanted in a house when you were a kid.

Jensen put the bags on the counter in the kitchen and started putting things away. You got out a couple plates and started making the two of you something to eat. Silently, you handed him a plate with a pb&j on it.

He sighed loudly, “I asked her if she – misplaced anything from you. She denied it. It wasn’t just her jealousy. It was the lying and manipulation that hurt the most. I’m ashamed to say that I started to believe it. There was a lot more I wasn’t even aware of.” He took a bite of the sandwich. “I asked what her relationship with Dan was,” he continued. “She insisted nothing was going on and that he was stalking her.”

“Did you believe her?”

“At that point, I didn’t know what was real and what was a lie. After that, I knew not to trust her word.”

“I wouldn’t believe a single word that comes out of her mouth in the future, either.” Jensen looked at you with an expression that told you he was done for the moment.

“Finish up and I’ll show you around the house,” you told him.

He took another bite and talked with his mouth full, “All I’m interested in is the bedroom.”

“Your mother will be shocked at your table manners, sir,” you said. “Also, you’re a perv.”

“Stop. You’re the perv. I was sweet and innocent until I met you,” he countered.

“So now it’s my fault you’re like this?”

“I said what I said,” he smirked, looking you over, his eyes resting on his favorite places.

You didn’t know what to say either to his words, or his scrutiny. “Alright then,” was all you could muster.

Jensen woke you up in the morning in the most pleasant way. Eventually, you both made use of your extra large, spa shower. You couldn’t help but stare at him. You stood in the shower and stretched as the hot water ran over your body. You could see the reflection of Jensen behind you at the 2nd separate shower. He was already looking at you like you were his next meal…again. You turned to face him and returned the gaze. He’d always been fit, but the muscle he’d put on for The Boys, and the work on the mountain had maintained it, was something to behold. He stood staring back at you as he washed his torso, a little, pleased smile on his face.

“You’re staring,” he noticed.

You rinsed your hair, “It’s like looking at a marble statue.” You stepped across the stall to where he stood, reaching out to trace the lines of the muscles on his arms, shoulders, and torso. “Are you going to keep these?”

He stepped backwards into the water to rinse the soap. Stepping forward again, he flexed a little, “You like ‘em?”

“I don’t mind ‘em. It’s kinda hot, but you’re just hot anyway,” you said. Your fingers traced the ‘V’ that formed at his waist, loving the sounds it elicited from him. “Love the hair and beard, too. The beard needs a bit of a trim, but still, dirty hot look for you definitely works for me.”

“Depends on the next role, but the beard is driving me crazy. Takes too much damn time to maintain. Same with this mop,” he said finishing up his routine. He suspected if he didn’t get out of the shower soon, they would need to wash up again.

“Such little butt, though. Nice shape. Not flat, but little,” you observed.

You turned to grab your conditioner and Jensen shut off the water on his side.

“Do you want me to keep it?” he asked.

“It’s good for ‘sports’ but I would have climbed that scrawny kid I knew way back in the day,” you said. “That sounds terrible.”

“Not everyone can have a perfect ass like you,” he said and gave your butt a solid smack, the sound amplified by your surroundings.

Reeling, not only from the stinging of your buttock, but also from the rush of heat to your lady parts. Rubbing the now hot skin on your butt, you called after him, “I still have you!”

He just laughed and added, “Touche!” as he wrapped a towel around his waist and left the bathroom. Almost as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, something felt off. His clothes were in the bedroom and needed to grab the bag. Brushing the feeling aside, he walked through her closet into the bedroom. His peripheral vision caught the small dark figure near the door at the same time as a soft gasp met his ears, making him freeze in his tracks. His hand immediately went to his towel to make sure it didn’t go anywhere.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my daughter’s house?” the woman asked.

He pushed his shaggy hair back off his forehead with his free hand and turned to look at Y|N’s tiny mother.

“Hi Deb,” he said, feeling very, very self-aware as it took her a moment to recognize him.

“J-Jensen?! Oh my god!” She quickly covered her eyes. “I didn’t know you kids were back in town. I was just coming over to check on the house, water the mail and check the plants. Oh god, you know what I mean! Where’s Y|N?”

If it had been happening to anyone else, he might have found it funny how Y|N clearly got some of her more amusing traits from her mother. Instead, he was beyond mortified that her mother had now seen him nearly naked and obviously sleeping with her daughter. “Finishing up in the shower,” he hated the awkward pause. Pointing back toward the bathroom, he said, “I’m just going to go…” he trailed off and took long strides back through the closet to the bathroom.

Y|N was out of the shower in a robe and was putting her hair up in a towel when he walked in.

“Babe,” he waited for her to look up. “Your mom is here,” he pointed, “IN your room.”

You looked at Jensen and how pink he looked and nearly naked. One plush towel was the only thing saving his modesty. The image of your disheveled bed flashed into your mind’s eye and you’d obviously just gotten out of the shower right after Jensen.

“I guess I don’t have to tell her we’re together,” you chuckled.

“Do you have another one of those robes?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I’ll be right back,” you told him and gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t worry, Mom loves you.”

Quickly, you went to your room and gave your mom the “one second” hand signal, grabbed Jensen’s bag and took it to the bathroom for him. He mouthed a relieved “thank you” and took the bag from you. Back out in your room, your mom was still standing by the door waiting for you to return.

“Oh my god, honey, I didn’t know you were both here. I came in through the front door, I didn’t even know you were home. What happened out there? Is he okay? I think we were both pretty shocked,” she said all at once.

Your mom was well aware of what had been going on in Jensen’s personal life. Donna and she still talked fairly regularly. “It’s okay, Mom, he’ll live,” you chuckled. Your mom had a funny smile on her face. “How about you? Are you okay? Did you get an eyeful?” you teased.

She put her hand on your arm, “Honey.”

“I know,” you chuckled again.

“So you two got together finally?” She looked hopeful.

You smirked and thought of all the inappropriate things to say. “Yeah, we’re finally going to give ‘us’ a try. Please, don’t make a thing of it. I don’t want to jinx anything.”

“Y|N!” she smacked your arm. Her eyes went wide then a little teary.

“You’re making it weird,” you told her. “He wants me to go with him to Texas and wherever else he needs to go. Guess I can quit the grocery store now.”

“You could have anyway. You don’t need that job at all,” she reminded you.

“I like the structure,” you told her.

“You know, I tried to call you.”

“I know. Soldier Boy threw me in the river and it was in my pocket,” you explained. “I made him buy me a new one.”

“Soldier Boy?”

“The reason he looks Hulked out. He was at his batcave and the physical work kept the muscle. It’s kinda hot.”

“I’ll say,” she mumbled.

“I’m telling him you said that.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Okay,” you laughed. “We’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

You shuffled her out the door and gently closed it behind her. When you heard her on the steps, you went back to your bathroom. Jensen stood in there, fully dressed, looking like he was finding stuff to do until it was safe for him to step out.

“Smells expensive in here. Did you try all of my products, or just the ones that you thought smelled nice?” you asked.

He was studying the bottles of perfume. Finding the one he was looking for, he picked it up and showed it to you saying, “This one is my favorite. Warm and spicy, like you.”

“That’s my favorite, too,” you admitted. It was one you had found in one of the little shops near your hotel when you visited him in Rome. “I told my mom we would come down to talk with her. She’s going to want to know what the plan is for Texas and after.” You took the bottle of perfume from him and opened your robe to spray it on your body and put it back on the vanity.

“If we make it out of this room,” he said, snaking his hands inside the robe and pulling you to him. His hands moved over your bare skin.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Ackles,” you warned him.

His full lips met yours, parting for his tongue to gently mingle with yours, stoking the embers that seemed to always be threatening to ignite around him. His right hand went up your back between your shoulder blades while his left reached down to grasp your ‘perfect’ flesh. Your heart raced in your chest despite the somewhat tender moment. He broke the kiss, but held you still, not wanting to fully break the moment.

“Love you like crazy, Nova,” his eyes were closed, forehead touching yours.

Despite the heat from your body and his, his deep voice and breath on your face gave you goosebumps. “Love you so much, my sweet boy.” You smiled with your eyes closed as your hand went up the back of his neck.

“You better put some clothes on before we go down,” he said, sounding a little like Dean, his lips brushing your forehead before he kissed you.

He left you standing there in a little daze to collect yourself and get ready as quickly as you could to meet with your mother.

Mercifully, by the time you and Jensen went down to the kitchen, your mother had rallied and was pretending like she hadn’t just seen Jensen nearly naked. She was looking through the cupboards for something.

“Honey, where’s your Keurig pods?” she asked after hearing you enter the kitchen, but she still kept opening cupboard doors.

You went to the pantry and showed her what you had for your selections.

“You don’t have any coffee?” she asked.

“I only keep that around for you. When you were here last, you used the last one. We only got here last night, so I haven’t gone to the store yet.”

You thought you heard a grumble from behind you.

“I didn’t know you would be here either,” you said over your shoulder to Jensen.

“Well, how long are you kids going to be in town? Do you want to put in an order at the store? I could go pick it up for you,” she offered.

You moved to the end of the island to stand next to where Jensen was sitting.

“We haven’t really talked about how long we will be here. Jensen needs to go back to Texas to deal with some stuff and I want to go with him. We’re not in a huge rush to get down there, but we do need to go, soonish.”

Jensen nodded. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it on the way here. I was thinking we could ease into it. Take care of as much as we can here, then go down, maybe in a week or less.”

“I think it’s going to be crazy once we get into the full swing of your career,” you looked at him.

“Um, your career is doing pretty well. I’ll probably be the one keeping up with you,” he said.

Your mom looked at you with wide eyes. “Are you going to go public? You, Y|N, with who you really are? I mean about your writing.”

You nodded. “At some point. That’ll make my manager and agent very happy…and publisher.”

Your mom clasped her hands together. “Oh thank god. Please do it soon! It has been so hard to keep this a secret for so long, especially from your brother. I think he suspects something but I don’t know what.”

“Drug dealer,” you joked.

Jensen perked up, “You didn’t tell him that, did you?”

“No,” you admitted, “but he probably thinks that.”

“No, he doesn’t,” your mom admonished, “but he will draw that conclusion soon if you don’t tell him soon. He wondered how you were able to build this house. So far, he’s buying your NRC cover.”

“The government pays well,” you noted.

“Be that as it may, you’ve got to at least tell your brother the truth,” she said.

“So he can ask for even more money?” you grumbled. “It would be one thing if it weren’t so frequent.”

“I’ll handle him, even if you don’t tell him. His feelings will be hurt if you don’t tell him before you go public.”

You looked at Jensen. He shrugged, “Deb has a point.”

“Yeah, I know,” you admitted. It had been a long time since it all began. He didn’t really ‘deserve’ to know, in your opinion, but he should know, you supposed. “I guess I better make a to-do list of shit to get done while we’re here.”

“I know, and he’s terrible about keeping a secret. Anyway, I should go,” your mom said. “You two probably have a lot to take care of while you’re here.” She picked up her purse. “Let me know if you need me to run any errands for you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you said.

She patted Jensen’s shoulder, “I was always rooting for you kiddo. I’m happy for you both.”

Your mom was going to leave it at that, but Jensen turned toward her. “Thanks, Deb,” he said and hugged her. “I feel like we’ve gotten closer today.”

They parted and your mom was blushing again.

“I’m so sorry, I was just so surprised,” she said.

Jensen chuckled, “Don’t worry about it. It was good to see you.”

“It was good to see you, too,” she said innocently. Then the realization of the double meaning washed over her features before she practically ran to the door.

“Now I understand where you get it,” Jensen smiled.

“She’s my mom, not blind. She’s always appreciated a hot guy,” you told him. You reached out to touch his neck. “This grizzly look is working, big time.”

“I don’t know if I can wait for Texas to get this cut. Do you have any scissors, razors, clippers or anything?” he asked.

“I do, but you’re getting the dullest ones I have,” you told him. You sighed, “We can probably get some at the store when we get groceries.”

You could feel the cosmic pressure to get back to work coming from your agent, publisher, and manager. You gave Jensen a quick tour of the house but you eventually ended up at your desk in your office. You tapped the ctrl button a few times to wake up your system. Jensen left for a few moments while you opened your emails. You knew he’d noticed your secret, but you waited and kept reading.

After you answered a couple emails, Jensen reappeared to ask, “What’s with this wall?”

You tried to look confused, “It’s a bookshelf? I think I need one of those cool rolling ladder things.”

“You should definitely do that,” he pointed a finger at you for emphasis, but turned back toward the wall of shelves. “But…something is off…”

“What do you mean? Is something out of place?” you got up to join him. He was so close to discovering your secret.

Jensen scanned the shelves until his eyes fell on a book that seemed out of place from the others.

“Nova, you are the coolest chick I’ve ever known.” He stepped forward and tipped his head to the side to read the spine of one of the books. “Aerospace Engineering. Now I know you do a lot of research, and are smart as hell, but I read all of the Whiskey Hollow books and Bart wasn’t engineering shit.”

“Okay, smartass. How about you check the inside cover. It’s inscribed to me,” you gave him a playful shove.

Jensen reached for the top of the book to pull it off the shelf. When he grasped the top corner of the book and began to pull, there was a soft click and the bookshelf moved.

“No you did not do a secret library door! Where does it go? Can I go in? There isn’t a trapdoor for me to fall through is there? I can’t believe you Scooby-Doo’d your office.”

You went to the bookcase and pushed on the right side while pulling on the left. The bookcase moved easily and quietly opened like a regular door. It locked into the open position and the lights inside the room turned on to reveal both a spiral staircase going down and a room you had turned into a quiet office for your zoom meetings. It worked great for the meetings where you needed to focus and not get distracted, looking out the window.

It was cute to watch him. He looked like a kid in a candy store. The walls in the open space of the room were covered in a mural of muted greens and grays, displaying a misty forest scene and the lighting was adjustable to your mood.

Jensen stuck his head inside the booth and poked around looking at the mic and camera, but his eyes kept going toward the staircase.

“There is a trapdoor next to the staircase, but it isn’t a drop door,” you said as you motioned to the stairs, “After you, sir.”

Jensen went to the spiral staircase and looked down into the darkness.

“Make sure you use the handrail,” you told him.

Eager to discover more surprises, he rested his hand on the rail and began the descent. The lights turned on and got brighter as he went down each step. He immediately stopped, lifted his hands and took another stop to test his theory. He then ran his hands up and down the rails and the lights dimmed or brightened with the motions.

“Coo-ooo-ool,” he said then ambled all the way down the stairs which ended facing directly into the big surprise you’d incorporated into your house, just for him. “You did this for me?”

He went to look at each guitar, instrument and piece of equipment you had gathered for his in-home recording studio.

“How? Why? Babe… this is too much,” he said, though his voice was still far away, exploring and marveling at the gift.

“I hoped,” you began, “I hoped, that someday, you would be here and could use it. And… that you and I would be where we are now… You probably don’t even know you sing along to the radio, like, all the time. If you’re not singing, it’s humming. I wanted you to have a place like this where you could be creative if you wanted to. You never know when inspiration might hit.”

He was still quiet looking at things, “I tried to involve you in this, but I called some guys you know and they helped me pick out the right pieces and equipment,” you explained. “I didn’t mean for this to be a surprise. I just wanted you to be happy here. Happy to come visit.”

Jensen put down the acoustic guitar he’d been strumming and crossed the floor to where you stood watching him. He stood over you looking down into your eyes. You saw they had gone a deep green color as he looked into yours. His hands cupped your face and neck as he spoke softly to you.

“I want you to hear me and take this to heart, my Nova, as long as you’re with me, I’m a happy guy. I hope I never made you feel like I didn’t want to be around you. Hell, I even asked you to move closer to me,” he pulled you to him, his lips pressing to yours, one arm around you, the other touching your face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around when you needed me, but I promise, I’m all yours.” He turned his head to the side, leaning down to kiss you again.

He broke the kiss but didn’t pull away. You were still floating somewhere close to heaven with your eyes still closed.

“It was Steve, wasn’t it?” his voice rumbled, breath on your face. His fingertip traced your lower lip.

“Steve who?” you were in a love daze.

“Carlson,” he kissed your jaw near your ear.

“Mhm,” you ran your hand through his hair, “and Jason, too.”

He moved to your neck and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “You’re mine.”

“They really liked helping me,” you prodded. “They’ve even been here before you. …and stayed overnight.”

“Never again,” he said against your neck, his beard scratching your skin.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” you asked, playfully.

The way he rocked and swayed with your body, it almost felt like you were dancing.

“You’ll never have to wonder where I am, or how much I love you, ever again,” he said.

“Why are you so sweet to me?”

“I give back what I receive,” he said simply, kissing you softly. “You set a high bar.”

You composed yourself and remembered you needed to get back to work.

“Hey, give it all a try and the amps. I won’t be able to hear a thing with the soundproofing,” you went back toward the stairs. “I really need to get back to work.”

He gave you a look of longing, but also a thumbs-up as a signal that he heard you and was already looking at his options. When you got upstairs, you left open the bookcase so you could hear him anyway. He could sing the alphabet and you would want to hear him. Steve and Jason had both been at your house at the same time for one visit and they had their own little jam session down there to test out all of the equipment. With all of the soundproofing, being in the basement, and closing the bookcase, you’d forgotten they were even there until they emerged several hours later.

Once you’d gotten resettled at your desk, you were disappointed to find that your unread emails and open documents were still there, unread and unfinished. Resolving to at least get through your emails, you trained your focus to your computer screen.

When the emails were all read and responses sent, you decided to take a break at your desk and listen to the music coming from below. You heard the last of “The Sounds of Someday” before he started “City Grown Willow”.

The lyrics to “City Grown Willow” had always resonated with you and you didn’t know why. It just felt like it was mean for your ears. It just hit differently now. The video he and Steve had done… the lyrics… it was almost like he’d been calling out to you with the song. You passed off the notion as wishful thinking and got back to work on the screenplay. It would be the introduction of Hobart and Lillian to the viewers who may not be familiar with the books, but also, you wanted to stay somewhat true to the first book, while assuming the viewers half-way know what’s going on in the universe.

The software package you bought was a life-saver and you were flying through pages and pages of script. Dialog had always been easy for you. Hearing the character’s voices had always been very clear for you. Thankfully, describing setting didn’t need to be wildly descriptive and it was the content of the scenes that were more important.

Whiskey Hollow had lived in your mind for years, but it was somewhat difficult to reintroduce the characters because they had come so far since the beginning. Thankfully, you still had your written notes and outlines from your original book and that was an incredible help. With your notes handy, you wouldn’t reveal too much, too soon.

It wasn’t until Jensen arrived with a bowl of cereal and a drink that you realized how much time had passed or that he’d even left the studio.

“Figured you might need that,” he said, pulling up a chair to eat with you.

“I’m sorry, Jay, I got in a groove and I had to go with it,” you explained.

“No worries,” he waved you off. “I got carried away down there, too. You did great with it. Whole thing,” he waved his hand in a circle, “A plus.”

“Well, you can thank Jason and Steve. They were a big help.”

“It was your idea. So I’m thanking you. I can’t believe you did that.”

You only shrugged. It didn’t seem extreme to you. You’d only wanted a space for Jensen to be creative in a way you knew he would love and not be held back by anything it could be lacking…but you did realize the truth of it.

“I think that, though my brain knew we were not a couple, my heart didn’t listen and wanted…to express my love for you,” you couldn’t believe you admitted it out loud. “Some people’s love language is touch, mine is outlandish gifts.”

He nodded as he chewed his cereal. “I know you don’t love people touching you, pretty much ever, but I love that you let me. Touch is my language and… it makes me feel important, special, that you shower me with your attention.” He took another bite of cereal, “I put a lot of what’s going on in here,” he tapped his temple, “into the songs I write with Steve. It’s not a love language, exactly, but… it also is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’ve heard me perform. I’ve seen your vinyls of mine…” he was getting shy. “Do you have a favorite song?”

“Off My Mind,” you answered quickly.

Jensen smiled, “Yeah, that’s a good one. We ran with that one. I was feeling a certain kind of way with that one.”

“Did you write that?”

“It was mostly Steve, but I put in my two cents. Any others, maybe off volume 2?” he asked.

““City Grown Willow”,” you answered.

“"City Grown Willow" is about you,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Us,” he said, pointing back and forth between you and himself.

When you just sat staring at him in confusion and disbelief, he continued, “That video call, that one in December 2019.”

“The one where you didn’t get my spot on Edna Mode impression?”

“I know who she is now. Good movie.”

“I know…”

“Can I tell you this or not?”

“I’m sorry, please, go on,” you chuckled.

“After that call, it kicked things in motion. You were on my mind a lot and I needed time to process. Wrote the song to kind of push things out and into being.”

You remembered that call quite well and what he’d just said made you ask, “So talking to me made you realize that you had love feelings for me. You tried to stay with Dee, ultimately divorcing. Then you write the song. Then you go out and shag everything with boobs. Get into a situation. Text me the most cryptic text you’ve ever sent, and that’s saying something, and went into hiding hoping I would come find you.”

“When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound as good. We can edit that when our grandkids ask us about our story.”

“We’re having grandkids?”

Jensen shrugged and took a drink of the milk in his bowl. “We’ve been ‘shagging’ like rabbits for weeks…I know I wasn’t using anything, were you?”

“Holy crap,” you said. “I didn’t even think about it. I’m getting a little – seasoned. We better get to the store and pick up some tests, just in case. I didn’t think you wanted kids, Jay.”

“I didn’t think I did. I didn’t think it would be a good idea until now,” he said.

“What changed your mind?” you wanted to know.

“The right partner,” he answered. He seemed apprehensive, “I want you to know it’s okay if we don’t. I know you went through stuff with Dan…”

“For the record, before you say more, you came for me when I needed you, too. And while I was very sad to lose that pregnancy, I didn’t want to have a child with him. I felt really guilty about that for a long time, but I knew he wasn’t the one.”

“--are we doing this?” he asked.

“I don’t know. This is kind of out of nowhere, Jay. I don’t even know if my body can handle it at this point. What if I decide you’re a douchebag and kick you to the curb? What if I’m not the best thing since sliced bread and you decide you want soup?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a sandwich guy and that’s not gonna change. Not now, not ever,” he said with finality.

“You’re such a dork, though! Oh my god. What if I’m pregnant right now and this kid gets your sense of humor? I don’t know if I could take it from two of you!”

“You’d love it,” he said playfully.

You avoided his gaze for a few moments, feeling a little overwhelmed. You hadn’t even thought about your cycle since before you left. You didn’t even know if you could have kids at this point in your life. It was possible, of course, but risky. “Jay, let’s not rush things, okay? I… I’m a little skittish after everything. Dan and Grant and all of the other disasters, I just… they all cheated on me and treated me like shit, used me for whatever reason… As my friend, I trust you implicitly…”

“I understand,” he raised a hand, as though to indicate, ‘say no more’. “I don’t want to rush either. I’m just saying if it happens, I’m going to be happy about it, and if it doesn’t, I’m good, too. I love what we have going on right now, too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Babe. I promise. You can trust me. Always.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s go get some groceries,” he said.

“Hold on now,” you said, finishing your cereal and milk. “How long do you plan on being here? I don’t want to buy a bunch of food only to throw it out.”

He leaned back in his chair, extending his legs to go across your lap. Absently, your hands rested on his legs. Jensen stretched his whole body shit his hands clasped on top of his head.

“How does staying the week and leaving on Saturday morning sound? IF we drive all day, we’d get there Saturday night.”

“Do you have your own place down there, or did you get to keep the house?” you asked.

“I let her keep the house,” he said. “It was never really mine. She picked just about everything. I got a little place on Lake Austin. It’s small, but it is secure, has a good view and access to the lake.”

“What did you do with the Impala,” you were suddenly fearful. “You still have it, right? Tell me she didn’t try to take it from you.”

“No, I made it clear there would be pushback if she tried. Clif is looking after it for me, for now. Also, she wanted a prenup and I signed it. I don’t go after her stuff, nor she mine. Another reason I didn’t want to have kids with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we’d had a kid, she could get half of my shit and alimony and child support.”

A thought sprung to your mind and you didn’t know if you should ask it or not.

“I can see your wheels spinning. Just ask.”

“Is there any-thing that is going to come back and bite you in the ass?” you asked.

“No?” he pulled his legs from your lap.

“Jay… I don’t trust her. I just get the feeling this isn’t over with her. She’s going to lose her mind when she finds out about us.”

“She can be mad all she wants. Divorce was final four months ago.”

“Okay, let’s go get some food,” you said, not wanting to discuss it any further. You just couldn’t shake that feeling of dread regarding anything to do with his ex wife. She didn’t strike you as one to give up on someone she wanted, or let go of a goal. She played the long-con for years and did what she could to keep you away from Jensen during that time.

“Can we make your pasta?” he asked.

You grabbed your bowl. “I told you you’d get hooked on it.”

Jensen drove you both into town to the local grocery store. Your little town has changed a lot over the years, including the grocery store. When you were growing up, there were two stores. Nowe there was only one and it was in a brand new building and location.

Jensen wore jeans, t-shirt, sneakers and a trucker hat. He looked funny with his hair smashed down and his beard sticking out. It was the little things that mattered though. He took your hand when you walked through the parking lot. Little touches as you shopped. The need to be separate, to hide your feelings, was gone.

People said hello to you both. Jensen got some second looks, but nothing to make them stop and ask questions. A few of the people you worked with stopped to chat and Jensen continued on shipping. When he found you again, your former boss, former classmate, and former neighbor, Brian was chatting you up.

“You look great, Y|N. You look really happy. What have you been doing?” he asked.

Apparently, Brian hadn’t noticed Jensen approaching. You turned at the sound of the cart and Jensen making noise as he got closer. Somehow, he’d taken on a rougher version of Dean, one who’d seen too much and he looked quite imposing.

“Me. She’s been doing me, Brian,” he said reading his nametag.

The blush in your face was rising. He could never just be cool when a guy was talking to you.

“Brian, this is Jay. Jay, this is Brian, whom I just told I quit. I’ve also known him since we were kids,” you introduced your guy to your friend.

“Huh. Me too,” Jensen said. “Good to meet you, Brian.” He extended his hand to the other man. “Baby, I got us set for the week. Are you ready to go home?” his voice was full Dean and half an octave lower.

Dominance Asserted.

“Yes, hon, I’m ready. Did you find what you wanted?” you replied.

“Sure did,” he planted a kiss on you. He pulled you and the cart with him, leaving Brian behind you.

The two of you went to the register and a high school kid you didn’t know rang up your selections. She was quick and friendly and barely gave Jensen any attention. You paid and thanked her and left with Jensen pushing the cart to the truck.

“Jay? You good?” you were putting bags into the back of the truck.

“Do you know everyone here?” he asked.

You nodded, “Kinda. It’s a pretty small town and I did work here… Didn’t like Brian, huh?”

He shook his head, “Nope. He was looking at you like you were a full meal after being half-starved.”

“Seriously? I’ve known him since his family came to town. Literally my next-door neighbor.”

“Yep, dead serious. Maybe he didn’t ‘see’ you then, but he does now. Does Br-i-an know how you wrecked your friend’s bike when you were seven?”

Jensen put the cart away with emphasis. It crashed to a stop in the coral.

“Jay!” he stopped in front of you. “Only my immediate family, Lance’s family, and you know about that accident. My love,” you patted his chest, “wild horses couldn’t take me from you, you know that, right?”

He grumbled, “Nova, I don’t think you realize how hot you are. You could wear a burlap sack and I’d still want to do dirty things with you. People are always drawn to you. Friggin Glen practically ran to talk to you.”

“Glen is an old man,” you laughed, “and you were being an aloof mountain man. I think he was worried for me.”

“Old, not dead,” he said.

“Ooookay, I think you’re blowing things out of proportion. I know who I’m going home with and it sure as shit isn’t Brian…who is a total douche, by the way. Constantly cheats on his wife. And definitely not with crusty Glen. I’m the one who is supposed to be neurotic, not you.”

He sighed heavily, “It’s just that… I’ll tell you later. Let’s get out of here.”

At your house, you and Jensen got the groceries put away and he’d gotten back to his normal self. You hadn’t forgotten what he’d said and your curiosity was killing you. It had gotten close enough to dinner that the two of you could start preparing food.

Jensen helped cut the tomatoes while Y|N did the rest of the food prep. She hated cutting the tomatoes and it was the least he could do to help out if she was willing to do the rest. By the time the water was boiling, he had half of the tomatoes done and in the bowl where she was steadily adding the green onions and other ingredients. When the tomatoes were added to the bowl, he excused himself to get cleaned up for dinner and grabbed the bag that held his purchases from the pharmacy.

Upstairs in the bathroom he pulled the boxes out of the bag and saw the pregnancy tests at the bottom. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be a father, but if Y|N was pregnant, he was happy to be a parent with her. Seeing them also reminded him of things he didn’t want to remember. He had to tell himself that Y|N was not at all like Dee and wouldn’t do what she had done. Normally, he was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but the last few years had severely tested his resolve.

He set up the clippers and got to work. He didn’t take off too much since he didn’t know what the next job would need… if he got another job. He just hoped there would be a next job. Tomorrow, he would start making calls. Hopefully his career was salvageable.

Y|N had asked him if he wanted to retire. He supposed she asked because she already knew the answer. He didn’t want to retire and she had already pulled him out of headspace that had been quickly going down that path. It was hard being around her again and not think about all of the things Dee had been trying to brainwash him with. Despite knowing Y|N so well and trusting her, Dee had managed to cast doubt inside him.

“Everything is going to work out,” Y|N had told him. “Tomorrow, I’m going to show you how to use everything and you’re going to get back on track. Maybe you can finally start that production company you’ve always wanted to do, too. Maybe quietly start developing shows, actively look for new ideas and writers who are also in love with you.”

Dee had never said anything like that to him, never been so encouraging. He should have known not to doubt Y|N. She was always in his corner and had never waivered. He flipped on the clippers and set about taming his overgrown beard. There was no denying she made him happy. Hell, he couldn’t get enough of her. All he wanted to do was be around her, to touch her, to love her. It was nice to shower affection on her and have it returned rather than withheld. After all she had been through, it seemed like she needed it, too. Maybe they just needed it from one another.

You took the candle stick holders from the mantle and put them on the table in the dining room. The pasta definitely wasn’t a romantic dinner, but you wanted to make it special somehow. Jensen was probably going to be very busy in the lead up to going back to Texas and you had a lot of writing you needed to get done. That morning was a good start, but there was so much more to do.

You were busy getting the candles set up and the bowls dished when Jensen reappeared, looking very over-dressed for a simple home meal. And yet, also slightly casual. He was rolling up the sleeves on a white, button down shirt, which was neatly tucked into black dress pants. No belt. No socks. Somehow, he’d managed to tame his glorious mane of hair and had it brushed back from his face. His tan skin enhancing his good looks and green eyes.

“Whoa,” you heard yourself say.

He looked up with his eyes and gave you a wry smile as he finished cuffing his sleeve.

“I am wildly underdressed…It’s really not fair that you make this whole combo look so fucking hot. Absolutely ridiculous.”

“You can take your clothes off,” he put his hands in his pockets, not moving from the dining room entry. He could see you thinking about going to change your clothes. “No. Not change. Off. Or as you are.”

Goddaaaaaamn. He raised an eyebrow in question at you. “I choose my modesty, I guess.”

“Hmm.” He entered the room and pulled a chair out for you to sit at the head of the table. He pulled the palm of your hand to his lips, your fingers touching his beard, which felt softer.

The man made you feel giddy inside. Of course, you’d been friends forever and he’d always given your heart a rush, but your relationship had shifted dramatically the day you found him at his cabin.

“Jay – you don’t have to try to be someone else for me, you know that, right?” you asked. “You don’t have to be Dean, or anyone else. I just want my friend and confidant.

Jensen seated himself to your right. “I’m not trying to be anyone else. Now that you and I are together, I get to show you all sides of me…the ones I couldn’t show you until you found me on that mountain.”

You took a bit of food and reached for his hand. He took it and held it on the table. “You held back?”

He nodded, “Mhm, big time.” His thumb stroked the top of your hand.

“Me, too,” you admitted. “Like every time. Was it like that for you, too?”

He nodded again, taking a smaller bite, “Had to.”

A couple of bites passed with him holding your hand on the table top. “Were you –in love–with me–the whole time, too? Cuz–I was–with you.”

Jensen let go of your hand, used his napkin, then leaned way over to kiss you. “Mhm.”

It took you a few moments to collect yourself after that. You knew you would never get tired of hearing him say things like that to you. When your heart and stomach stopped jittering, you got out your phone and told your sound system to play music. You and Jensen chatted over your meal and you were using your elbow and the palm of your hand to hold up your head. You couldn’t help but stare at him. His skin was tan, hair somewhat lightened due to being in the sun, his green eyes shining. White button down shirt highlighting his already ridiculously good looks. The music was playing and invading your thoughts while you appreciated the view.

“Can you dance like John Travolta?” you asked.

His fork stopped before reaching his lips, “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Only John Travolta can dance like John Travolta.”

“Hmm,” you smirked. “Stayin’ Alive’ was playing when it finally hit you who Jensen had been reminding you of with his glorious mane. “Barry Fucking Gibb!”

“Maurice Gibb,” he said confused. “The hell are we doing, naming BeeGees?”

You sat staring at him, both shocked and proud of yourself for finally pin-pointing who he’d been reminding you of.

“Oh my god!” you laughed and clapped your hands over your mouth. “No! You’re reminding me of Barry Gibb!”

“That’s not funny.”

“Yes it fucking is!’ you laughed. “Oh god, do I think Barry Gibb is hot?”

“That’s it, it’s coming off tomorrow,” he grumped.

You sat considering his thick hair. You’d really gotten to like running your fingers through it. “We could really complete the look with a spectacular blowout.”

“Woman, if you come near me with a blow dryer, I swear…”

“You’ll spank me?”

He put his fork down and wiped his mouth. “You’re filthy. You’ve spent too much time around ex-cops and ex-military.”

“No, I’ve always been like this, I just couldn’t say it before. You always had a lady on your arm,” you paused, “Does it bother you?”

He smirked, “No. I guess not. Guess we need to get to know each other again.”

“In a new way,” you agreed.

When you woke the next morning, it was not to Jensen’s kisses. He wasn’t even in the bed with you. You’d reached to touch the spot where he had lain and it was cold. Still waking up. Your brain wasn’t processing information. You looked around trying to figure out where he’d gone. Only briefly, you wondered if you’d dreamed it all. Then the sound of a song softly sung reached your ears. It wasn’t quite the deeper tone of Steve’s voice, but you recognized “Off My Mind” right away.

Getting out of bed, you went into your bathroom and found Jensen in front of the mirror with the trashcan on the counter under him. He hummed the song when he was on his neck, then would vocalize the lyrics when he cleaned the counter of the bits that missed the trash.

Catching you watching, he said, “Good morning, Sunshine.”

You thought maybe you grunted in response. Jensen asked, “You gonna miss it?” He was taking off what was left of the beard. He turned the clippers back on and another soft plop of beard landed in the bin.

Moving to where he stood, you leaned against the counter with your back to the mirror. You’d caught a glimpse of yourself and were not impressed. You shrugged slightly, “It’ll be nice to see your face again. Are you taking it all off?”

“I was thinking I’d leave some. Dean still looks back at me sometimes,” he said. “I should have just taken it all off last night. Thought I’d be able to stand it a little longer.”

“Do you miss him?” you asked.

He nodded and continued taking the beard down to a thin layer.

“I miss him, too. It’s okay with me if he shows up once in a while. It was really hard watching that last episode,” you paused, remembering. “I probably won’t ever watch it again, though.”

“That bad?”

“That traumatizing,” you said. You could feel yourself getting emotional. “Not only did I have to watch Dean die, I felt like I was watching you die, too. You and Dean are so intertwined, it felt so real. To have Dean go out like that… the writers did you dirty. I get why they did it, but I hate it! Dean deserved to be happy and have a life, too.” The tears were welling up. “If you ever bring him back, please, let someone love him. Someone who loves him for exactly who he is.” The tears broke over your cheeks.

He took a step to the side to hold you, “Baby, I had no idea you felt that way.”

“I know!” you mumbled into his chest, still crying. “You had me on radio silence and I had to suffer alone.”

“He had to die sometime,” he rubbed your back.

“Not like that! Not so young! They barely left room for you guys to come back. And don’t give me that bullshit about COVID and needing to make changes. They did not need to kill Dean in a dirty BARN with a random piece of absurdly large rebar in shitty lighting. Give me Dabb’s phone number.”

He squeezed you once more before letting you go and resuming shaving.

“I’m not giving you his number,” he said.

“Well…okay,” you sputtered, “but I’m going to fix it. I’m gonna plot out a whole thing and my sweet Dean will live.”

“Like fan fiction?” he asked, still shaving. Large clumps of beard falling into the trash can.

“No, not like fan fiction, butthole. Like a fully plotted out, written scripts that will fucking resolve that bullshit.”

“Don’t you have a whole movie to write?” he asked.

“Listen, Ackles,” you gave him tone and he grinned knowing he zinged you. “O’ll make it happen. Just you wait.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “You do that. Can I help plot it out with you?”

“Of course!” you were feeling better now and excited about the prospect of potentially bringing your favorite character back to life.

Jensen put the final guard on the clippers and ran it over his face. He made sure he got any long pieces he may have missed, then cleaned up the mess he’d made on the counter. You were patiently waiting for him to show you his face. It still surprised you how long his hair had gotten, though.

“How long were you growing out your hair, for real?” you asked. “You were up there a couple months, but this grow out is a good six months or more.”

“About that,” he agreed.

“Do you want me to take some length off? I have scissors somewhere,” you offered. “Can’t guarantee it’ll look good, but I’ll leave enough a pro can fix it.”

“Knock yourself out,” he agreed and sat on your vanity chair.

Grabbing a towel, all of your hair clips, brush and comb, you got ready to cut Jensen’s hair. You draped the towel around his shoulders and reached around from behind to clip the towel together in front of him.

She brushed his hair, running her fingers through with each pass. Her nails scratched his scalp as she seemingly massaged his head.

“Mm. Your scalp is tense. How is your scalp tense?”

“Might be because I have a nearly naked woman dancing around and touching me all over,” he remarked.

She looked down at her bare legs under his shirt. “So…if I lifted my arms above my head like this,” she flashed him, “that do anything for ya?”

It really did. He didn’t know why it was so hot when women wear their partner’s clothes, but it was. The shape of her ass just barely concealed.

“Yep. Like it. Like it a lot,” he was trying not to think about it.

“Oh…okay,” she said, and he knew she would tease him the whole time she cut his hair.

She brushed it back and tried his hair in different styles. He just let her do her thing until she could picture the style she wanted.

“Too bad, Barry Gibb is pretty hot on you,” she teased and got to sectioning his hair.

When she was done, he’d gotten his face full of her at least three times, and two views of her butt in the mirror. She took off about three inches of hair from all over his head. She brushed it again and checked her work, looking for missed, long hairs. She then got out the clippers and shaved his neck and evened out the line of hair. He was then given a mirror so she could check the final product while she cleaned up the floor gracing him with one luxurious view of her backside.

“That’s a lot of hair, hon,” she said, putting the clippings in the trash. “So?”

“Actually, not bad.”

“Really, or are you trying not to hurt my feelings?” she asked.

“Baby, I would tell you,” he assured her.

“Alright, let’s get some breakfast going. Then I can show you how to use all of the equipment,” she said.

After breakfast, you showed Jensen all of the things and where you kept your cheat sheets for him to use if needed. He seemed to catch on fairly quickly and you left him to it so you could get your own work done. Almost as soon as you got on your computer, you got a zoom call from your manager, Eleanor Mitchellhill.

“It’s very early in the day, Eleanor,” you answered the phone. An icy chill flowed through your screen.

“It’s not early here Y|N,” she snipped in her British accent. “Where the hell have you been? It took you longer than a couple weeks.”

“I was in an undisclosed location spending time with my friend who needed me,” you explained.

“Does this friend have a name?” she pressed.

“Elle…,” you stalled, “I don’t think you need his name yet.”

“Oh, I see,” she drew out the word. “It’s a he. Is this man the reason you’re practically glowing?” she wanted to know.

“You could say that,” you nodded.

“Well, whatever fuels your fire, I suppose,” she acquiesced. “We will come back to this soon enough.”

“I don’t need a background check, Elle,” you said, “but you’re right, we will need to talk about him later. I need a week. He needs to go to Texas.”

“And you need to go with him?” she guessed.

You sighed, “Elle, it’s complicated and yes, I’m going with him.”

“Can’t wait to hear about it in a week,” she said, dryly. “Right, let’s talk. For the love of all that is holy, when are we going to get you in the public eye? You’re cute as a button and the people will just eat you up. And my god, when they know about the mystery series…” she kissed her fingertips. “Perfection.”

“About that, I want to go public with the mystery series pen name first. The romance one, I don’t want to do yet. And I want to go public with the mystery one when the movie is about to release. Like, on the promotion circuit.”

“I suppose you’ve already talked to Jan about this?” she asked.

You nodded, “She’s aware. I also told her that when I get this script done, I want Jensen Ackles to get a shot at playing Hobart. So if he does, you’re gonna be okay with it.”

Eleanor leaned back in her chair, “Why would I need to do that?”

“He’s my friend, Elle, and I based the character on him. There really isn’t anyone better to play him.”

Eleanor sat quietly, just staring at you while she thought. “Alright. Now get that script done. And as soon as you get to Texas, I expect a call, immediately, Y|N.”

“Understood,” you confirmed.

After a few more calls and answered emails, you were able to get in some steady work and the words flew from your fingertips into the script. It was like you were putting what you could see so clearly in your head into the script. You still had the notes from when you wrote the first book so it flowed really well. The story of Whiskey Hollow was precious to you and it would have been hard for you to let anyone take over writing the script for the movie adaptation. You just hoped that what you were creating would be appealing to whichever studio wanted the script. Jan, your agent, would be working hard to find takers and you wanted to give it your best effort.

A few days later, you and Jensen had put in three very long days doing all manner of work on your script and getting his affairs in order. You had written a ton in the script and were nearing completion, but something had come up that needed to be dealt with. Your brother and mom were coming over and you were not looking forward to finally telling him your big secret.

You sat on the couch in your living room with a notebook and pen, jotting down a few words here and there as Jensen looked around while he waited. He liked to look at your things. He did it a lot when he would visit in the past. You supposed he just liked to get to know you by the items you kept, as well.

He turned toward the mantle. The light from outside shone on some glass pieces that had caught his eye. Stepping closer he realized the sparkle came from one of the crystal candlestick holders he’d sent her as a housewarming gift from himself and Danneel. Dee hadn’t wanted to sign the card, but he’d insisted. With one candlestick was the glass orb his mom had gifted her years ago and the Swarovski star he’d left for her at her apartment. Behind the glass art was a picture frame that held multiple pictures.

He needed to step closer to get a better look.

“Need my glasses?” Y|N asked from the couch.

“Hush,” he returned. The pictures were of his family on various occasions through the years. He didn’t remember some of them.

“Where was I for this one?” he pointed to the picture in the top right location.

She put down her pen and paper to join him.

“Oh, I think you were in …shit…wherever Dawson’s Creek filmed… North Carolina?” she put her hand on his back. “Your mom said I was welcome to come by anytime I was in Dallas, so I did.”

“You did? How often did you go?” he was surprised she would go to his parents’ house without him also being there.

“Maybe once every two or three years. It was usually for work when you weren’t there. You knew when I was there for the conventions.”

He looked down at her, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Well, I wasn’t there to see you,” she smiled. “I went to see your mom and dad…and have your mom’s cooking.” She got on her tiptoes for a quick kiss. “You’re hot as hell, but even my world doesn’t revolve around you.”

She moved to go back to the couch and her notebook. He put his arm around her to keep her close. “Hey,” he waited for her gaze to meet his, “you know I don’t think that, right?”

“I wondered sometimes,” she admitted.

“When?”

Her demeanor changed and she looked uncomfortable.

“You can tell me,” he tried to reassure her.

“That time you asked me to move to Austin, or LA, or Vancouver to be closer to you.” A harsh blush rose to her cheeks. “It felt like it was only to make you happy. You were with Dee and it made me feel like your side-piece, especially when I was sure you knew how I felt about you.”

It shocked him to hear her say it, but it was hard to deny her viewpoint. Neither one of them had been very good at concealing their feelings for each other, he was realizing. It had been selfish of him to ask, but he’d truly just wanted her closer… maybe he’d just been lying to himself a lot longer than he thought.

“I didn’t realize what I was doing. I shouldn’t have asked to put you in such an awkward position,” he held her tight to his chest. “Forgive me?”

“Of course,” she said. Her hand snaked up the back of his t-shirt, her nails scratching the skin of his back. “I was so close to saying, fuckit, but I would totally have tried to be a homewrecker.”

He remembered asking her and he remembered that they had gone to the fair that trip. “I should have done something after you kicked fuckface to the curb. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to make things worse. I thought Danneel and I deserved a shot. I did love her, but not like how I love you. Even she knew. It’s probably why I didn’t get any of the letters you sent to Austin. She kept them from me because she knew how much I looked forward to them, even before we got engaged.”

“You were right though. I didn’t know who I was or what I needed after the Grant situation. I thought about making a move on you, too, but I didn’t know if I just wanted to feel better or if I truly wanted to start something with you.”

“Remember that night I fell asleep on your bed?” he paused when she looked up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Totally watched you change your clothes.”

“Oh my god,” she hid her face on his chest for a moment. “You dirty dog,” she chuckled.

“Worth it.”

“You liked what you saw?”

He nodded. “You were my dream girl before I even knew what that meant. I should never have let you get on that airplane,” he lamented.

He released her from his embrace and watched as she went back to the couch to wait for her brother to take his sweet time arriving. When she bent down to pick up her pen and notebook, he got a good look. She still has a great ass, he thought.

There were a lot of pictures on the mantle. Mostly, they were of their respective families and some convention photo ops. Far too many with Richard, he thought. At the opposite end of the mantle held the matching candlestick and more pictures that included her travels and himself. His eyes fell on the picture of them at the lake on the deck. They’d had such a good time that trip. Young enough to be carefree, old enough to be left to their own devices. They’d gone to the tiny amusement park and rode the rides over and over. Of course, Nova had liked the Ferris Wheel the best because it overlooked the lake. She loved the water, Ferris Wheels, and me, he thought with a smile.

Finally, a half hour late, your brother, Jarrod, rang the doorbell and you let him into your house. He greeted Jensen and Jensen poured drinks for everyone while Jarrod got settled.

“Mom told me you two finally got together,” he said in his usual loud voice.

“Yeah, Jarrod, it’s true,” you said.

“If you two ever need security, I’m available. You know I’ve got that training…” he said.

You tried not to roll your eyes where Jarrod would notice. Jensen stood behind him for a moment and did it for you before coming around to sit in one of the armchairs and sip on his whiskey.

“Clif has his own guys that Jensen uses, but I will tell Clif that you might be interested if there’s an opening. But the reason I wanted you to come over is because I need to tell you something…”

“You’re pregnant?”

“Jesus Christ, Jarrod. No, I’m definitely not pregnant. I need to tell you that I don’t work for the government and haven’t for years. I did work for the NRC, but I haven’t for years.”

He just looked at you like it was old news. “You’ve been at the grocery store for a while. I assumed you just had a good retirement plan.”

Sometimes it still amazed you that you and he had the same genetic material.

“The government doesn’t pay well enough for me to buy a whole goddamned city block in town, Jarrod.”

“Don’t get pissy with me. So if you didn’t work for the government, who did you work for? You obviously had some serious cash coming in.”

It was all you could do to not attempt to strangle him. “I write books. Lots of them. And I sold a lot. I am Nova Scott and Ross Black.” You waited for it to sink in. All he did was stare at you blankly. Your brother was not known for quiet reflection and was beginning to scare you. A whole new list of worries sprinted through your brain. “I need you to be cool about this, Jarrod, and to keep it quiet.”

“Does Mom know?”

“Yeah, from the start. Like three people in the profession know, Mom, Jay, and my one employee, Jen. Now you.”

“He knew before me?” you could hear the anger rising in his voice.

Jensen said nothing but carefully set down his glass.

“Barely. I only just told him about Ross Black. He knew about Nova Scott a few years ago.”

“What about your dumbshit exes?”

“No, Jarrod. Dan knew I wrote, but he didn’t know what or under what name,” you explained.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner,” his voice boomed despite your plush furniture.

“I had my reasons,” you said simply.

He was obviously angry and hurt. He stood on the opposite end of the mantle from you. The sheer size of him was daunting and he scared the hell out of you when he was mad. Even if you got the upper hand, you knew you couldn’t take him. He was 8 inches taller and 150 pounds heavier, severely skewing your odds of being successful.

“Boy, nobody fucks you like family,” his volume only increasing.

“How the fuck is protecting my privacy about you?! I didn’t tell you for very good reasons.”

“You always thought you were too good for this family. Always smarter than me. The favorite child.”

“For fucks sake, Jarrod. This childish resentment needs to stop. I’m not smarter than you. I just tried harder. You’re mad at me about shit you could have fixed but didn’t and that’s on you.”

You didn’t realize you had so much built up rage.

“How long have you kept this from me?”

“Oh my god,” you were getting a headache. “I don’t have an obligation to tell you jack shit. I’m only telling you now out of courtesy because the press is going to find out about me and Jay and they will dig into who I am.”

“If you’ve been incognito this whole time, why now? You’ve known him forever. Has no one ever approached you?”

You shook your head. “What about you?” Jarrod shook his head. You sighed deeply as you told him about the plan. “If I tell you, I need to know I can trust you not to tell anyone, and I mean anyone. Not even Jenna.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’m not risking this leaking before its time. If you can’t promise me, I can’t tell you and you can leave now. Once it’s public then you can talk.”

Finally, he agreed and you told him everything. Jarrod went from fuming to understanding and back and forth as you told him your plan.

“So let me get this straight. You find out Bob is doing sketchy shit and your ‘source’ agrees to get you evidence of said shit. You find out other methods of embezzlement, not giving Dad a raise for 20 years, dad dies, you flip out at the funeral… I’m guessing that was the tipping point?” You nodded. “Debbie tries to start shit and you said what you said to her… so, are you going to do it soon, or are you just going to hold it over her, or them, or?”

“As long as they mind their own business, we’re cool. If they want to come at me, talk shit, or say any disparaging words about me and/or Jay, I will burn those motherfuckers to the ground.”

“Holy shit,” Jarrod muttered. “Still sounds like you’re the smart one.”

“No, I just hold a grudge and am willing to play the long game,” you told him.

Jarrod turned to Jensen who had been quietly listening to the exchange. “What about you? Are you good with this?”

“I know better than to get in her way. I trust her and the plan and will back her up to the end …not to mention happy to stay in her good graces,” Jensen answered, picking up his whiskey again.

“Guess I better do the same.”

The rest of the week continued to fly by. You were writing like crazy and Jensen was working with his lawyers, and team, to start getting him back into auditions for his various interests. He was collaborating with Steve, sending in voice work for his various cartoons and other voiceover work, calling all sorts of people to get his interests turned into reality. Meanwhile, you were writing, researching, asking Jensen questions and fielding calls from people like your agent, Jan.

“Hello Jan,” you answered. “What’s up? I wasn’t expecting you to call again this week.” You’d sent her what you had of the completed script on Wednesday morning and she had called Thursday morning.

“Sweetie, I don’t know what you put in that script but the studio called back already and they want to have a meeting.”

“A meeting? About what? Is that good?” you asked, worried.

“In all my years, this has only happened a handful of times. You need to get over there so they can ooh and aah over what can only be a masterpiece.”

“Or they want to tell me to my face how it’s total shit and need to redo the whole thing,” you lamented.

“Sweetie, the studio doesn’t fly you out to talk about garbage. When can you be ready?”

“Um…I don’t know…I need to talk to Jensen, but I’m thinking we can go out tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“Is this a package deal?” Jan asked. “If he’s included, I need to know now. I can try to get them to pay for the ticket, but I can’t guarantee it.”

“Book it regardless. He’s coming with me,” you told her. “We can cancel if need be.”

“Please tell me you’re going to get away from that tiny town you live in. You need to either be in LA or New York. You’re killing me with all of these connecting flights.”

You chuckled at her exasperated tone. “It may happen sooner than later. Hang tough, Jan. I want to try out the London West Hollywood this time.”

“Why not the Beverly Wilshire? You love that place and you can walk to the studio, you love that healthy shit.”

“Jan, that’s the Pretty Woman hotel and I’ll be going there with my new boyfriend.”

“So what, put it in one of those books you write. You are a pretty woman and that new guy of yours is a hot piece. You have your Pretty Woman experience, sweetie, you deserve it. And for what it’s worth, I like him and I don’t believe a word of the allegations. Nail that bitch to the wall. I did check around and couldn’t find anyone who had a bad word to say about him.”

“It means a lot, Jan,” you admitted. “I didn’t know you didn’t like the other guys.”

“Sweetie, you’re like family at this point. I tried to like ‘em, but it wasn’t my place to tell you who to love. I’ll get it set up and email you the details.”

“Thanks, Jan,” you signed off.

You got up from your computer to go find Jensen. The last you’d seen him, he’d gone through the bookcase. Inside the room, you’d expected to see him inside the soundproof room, but it was dark inside. You were reasonably sure you hadn’t missed a smoking hot man leave through your office, so you went for the spiral staircase to descend into the basement studio.

Jensen was at the soundboard with headphones on. His eyes were closed and you would have thought he was sleeping if not for his fingers tapping the beat on his chest. Your fingertips touched his shoulder first. He merely tensed his body before relaxing under your touch as your hand moved across and down his body. He held your arm against him then pulled you onto his lap. He reached for the keyboard and touched a button before turning his attention to you and took off his headphones.

“This is a nice surprise,” he held you gently as you settled. “I thought you were working.”

“I could say the same about you,” you returned.

“I took a little break to listen to some tracks and a few caught my ear. What’s going on?” he asked.

“Jan called. There’s interest in the script and one of the studios wants to meet on Friday. She’s going to book us a flight either for tonight or early tomorrow morning.”

“That was quick. Told you they’d love it. You sure you want me to go with you? I’m looking like damaged goods lately,” he said.

You touched his face and noticed the chop job you’d done on his hair. “Diamond in the rough, maybe.” You leaned in to kiss his full lips. “Of course, I want you to come with me. No more than a couple days, remember? Plus, the hotel is across the street and there’s hella good shopping all within walking distance.” You were softly touching his face all over. “Do I have to twist your arm?”

“No, just making sure.”

“My sweet boy, I will always want you. I’ve always had your back, I’m not stopping now, so will you go with me? Did you have your heart set on driving to Texas? I promise your truck will be safe here.” You paused briefly, “We still can, I just didn’t want to rush.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he agreed. “I’m so proud of you.”

His warm hand went under your shirt and up your back, expertly unclasping your bra. You pulled the garment from your body through the arm hole of your shirt.

“You’ve done that more than once,” you noted, kissing him again and feeling his lips smile against yours.

“It hasn’t been worth it til now,” his hand covered your breast, kneading your soft flesh then moving to your nipple. “Have any other hidden rooms down here…with a bed?”

His voice had gotten deeper and quieter.

“I have a sofa in my office,” you offered.

“That’ll do.”

You sat at your desk, both working and waiting for Jan to get back to you with travel plans. You were still adding things to the script and tweaking scenes here and there when the email finally dropped in. Jensen was reading a book on the sofa. You couldn’t really see the cover from where you sat, but you thought it looked vaguely familiar.

“Time to get packed,” you told him.

He closed his book and said, “I think we can go to Texas from California. My truck will be fine here. What hotel’re we staying at, anyway?”

“The Beverly Wilshire,” you mumbled.

“The Beverly Wilshire?” he asked. Reveling in her suddenly shy demeanor.

“I’m gonna tell Jan to change to the London,” you blustered.

He sat up on the couch, “The one from Pretty Woman?”

“You know it is, jerk.”

“Nice hotel.”

“Yes it is.”

“Have you stayed there before?”

“Yes, I’ve been there before,” you told him, “For the romance movie deals.”

He got up and put the book back on the shelf and you saw he was near the section that held your Nova Scott and Ross Black books, but your mind was on other tasks and couldn’t see which one he put back. You didn’t want to assume he was reading anything other than Whiskey Hollow and let it go for the time being.

“Are we going to the mighty SooFoo tonight, or in the morning?”

“Tonight,” you answered. “Jan somehow managed to get us in with only a short layover in Denver.”

You left your office to go up to your room to pack what you would need for a few days and clothes for the meeting.

Jensen stayed behind, waiting to make sure she had gotten all the way upstairs before he went back to the bookshelf and pulled off the book he’d been reading. It was the first time he’d seen it in a long time, not since he was on set with all of the cast members reading the first #1 seller for Nova Scott. He tucked it into the back of his pants and pulled his shirt over to hide it. He thought he would bust it out on the airplane and take the consequences there rather than asking her to finally let him start reading them.

#jensen ackles rpf #jensen ackles x female reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles x you #Interlude #kazosa

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