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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

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The Call of the Wild Woman

Just some fluff featuring the green-haired goddess of NXT.

Pairing: Shotzi Blackheart x OFC

Word count: 2,412

Content advisory: brief sexual references, language

The first time I met Shotzi, I instantly liked her. We shook hands and she gave me this smile that made me feel like I was having a great day, even though there hadn’t been anything exceptional about it to that point. I was a little overwhelmed with all the people I was meeting, trying to get a sense of their look, their personality, their character, but I knew from our introduction that I was going to remember her for years, even if I never saw her again.

Of course, Shotzi’s a memorable person. Tall, tattooed, pierced and sporting that incredible acid green hair, it would be hard not to remember her. But I felt like I’d remember her vivacious eyes and confident smile just as much as the things that made her stand out from a mile away. My whole first day getting led around the performance center, I found my eyes drawn back to her whenever she appeared.

I had just been moved to NXT to take over as their chief makeup artist. I’d been working on Raw for close to a year when the position opened up and I’d been so excited and nervous about whether I’d get the job that I felt as if I’d barely slept for two months. My boyfriend and I actually broke up while I was waiting to hear back and I hardly noticed. We’d been struggling since his work had moved him out of state, and things had just sort of ended like a wave washing over a sandcastle. I wasn’t bitter but I was lonely. And that, along with my desire to show that I could run a team in high pressure situations, meant that I threw myself headlong into the new job. I tried to keep some time to see friends but work seemed more rewarding.

By the time I’d been there a few months, my circle of friends was largely made up of coworkers. There were always birthdays or barbecues or other things going on, and it was fun to be able to dish about work without having to explain a lot of background detail. I was enjoying myself. But, yeah, I was definitely lonely.

I dropped a couple of hints here and there that I wouldn’t mind being fixed up with any single male friends and a couple of the women made suggestions. A couple of the men did too. But none of it went anywhere. I was too busy and too awkward to make a first move and if any of the suggested bachelors ever thought to check me out on social media, it never resulted in a phone call.

Shotzi was always one of my favorite models. I loved transforming her from the natural beauty she was to the wild child who appeared on tv every week. And while we’d talk about work, she also had the greatest gifts as a storyteller, and the crazy stories to complement her skills. She’d been raised around bikers and conservative immigrants at the same time. She’d worked as a late night host for a horror movie tv broadcast before she became a wrestler. It was like she’d been born to perform and had found a way to do so while still being herself.

I found myself sitting at home, always alone, watching the silly and shocking horror movies she’d recommend to me, or tracking down music by bands she’d mention or whose shirts she’d wear. When she’d worked on tv, she’d developed a loyal following of teenage boys and girls who used to do everything from message her begging her to go out with them to sending her love letters and poetry to showing up outside the station in the hopes of meeting her. It sounded both creepy and sad but I sympathized a little with her starry-eyed fans. She was a kind of dazzling whirlwind of a person and, indeed, I was dazzled by her.

One day, I’d showed up at work after a particularly inauspicious Tinder date. The guy had picked me up for what was supposed to be coffee and a walk but had insisted that we stop by his friend’s place so he could get some pot. The three of us shared a joint and I assumed we were about to leave when another joint appeared. Being a lightweight, I declined but the two of them proceeded to smoke it themselves. Then the friend’s roommate came home from band practice. She pulled out her bong and that was getting passed around while she played us the hour-long piece of meandering prog that they’d created that day. All three of them seemed really entranced by what they could hear in the music, which I was pretty certain they were imagining.

About an hour later, my date and his friend started playing video games. I quietly tried to suggest that we leave and at least grab that coffee because I was clinging to the hope that maybe the guy, who was way cuter than I’d counted on, might have some redeeming qualities. He assured me we could leave in a minute. He and his friend were completely absorbed in their game, while the roommate randomly started telling me about how her mother had given birth to her at a Grateful Dead concert in the eighties, after following the band on tour for years. She didn’t seem to care much if I responded and would focus entirely on her phone every minute she wasn’t speaking.

Eventually, the roommate had begun to complain loudly that she was hungry and the guys agreed that we should order pizza. I handed over some money and advised them that I was a vegetarian, only to be surprised by a pizza that arrived looking like it had been fished out of a trash can, topped with pepperoni and cheese. I knew the place they’d ordered from and some quick math in my head made it clear that I had paid for basically all the pizza. They assured me that I could just pull the pepperoni off.

I was about to leave but my date insisted that we could head out in a few minutes to find me something I might actually want to eat. He was cute enough that I‘d agreed to stay just a little longer. A few more guys showed up to buy pot. Then friends of the roommate‘s had shown up with beer and put the stereo on so loud I thought the ceiling might cave in. I ended up leaving at eleven without even saying goodbye. When I got home, I realized that I‘d lost my house keys and had to ask a neighbor to help me break into my apartment.

I told this story to my coworkers to a chorus of loud “nos'' and peals of laughter. Others shared some bad date stories but this one did seem pretty dire. Everyone commiserated and it did make me feel better, like the night hadn’t been a total washout because I had a good story to tell and, as a couple of the girls pointed out, dates I had in the future were likely to seem pretty good in comparison.

“You should have taken some of the pot!” Shotzi exclaimed to a round of agreement.

“I wish I’d thought of that.”

It was a few days later that I was prepping Shotzi’s makeup and I noticed that she was a bit quieter than usual. She wasn’t unfriendly but there was something off.

“You ok?” I asked quietly, sweeping my brush out to give her the perfect cat’s eye flip.

“Yeah, I’m great.”

She didn’t sound great, or at least not in the enthusiastic way she usually did. I felt my neck getting tense as I tried to lead the conversation for the first time, knowing I wasn’t nearly as good at it as she was. I didn’t want to push her to tell me what was on her mind and at the same time, I felt like my forced smalltalk was probably grating on her nerves. I wanted to be entertaining but I lacked the stories and the flair.

Finally, when I announced that I was finished, she stood up just a few inches from me. I expected her to tell me to wish her luck, which I always did, but she didn’t move, her bright eyes focused on mine.

“Do you want to go out some time this weekend?” She asked.

“Like, hang out? Sure.”

She shook her head. “No. Do you want to go on a date with me?”

I sucked in a sharp breath, not knowing quite what to say. I fell back on the default. “Um, I don’t actually date women.”

“Oh.” She looked sad for the first time and a little surprised. “I’m sorry, I read some singles wrong. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“Not at all. I mean, it’s no big deal. I just… you’re gorgeous. I’m just not…”

“It’s fine,” she insisted, extending a hand as if to pat my arm but withdrawing it before she did. “Please, forget I ever said anything.”

Of course, I couldn’t forget that. In fact, I couldn’t even get it out of my head. I’d always dated men. I’d known women who were bisexual and lesbian but none of them had ever expressed an interest in me and I hadn’t found myself attracted to them. But Shotzi was attractive. She was stunning. And the more I thought about that first reaction I’d had to her, the more it seemed similar to the way I’d reacted to men I’d been involved with in the past. I just hadn’t noticed the similarity because she was a woman and I wasn’t into women.

But maybe I was into one woman.

She stayed friendly with me, although she didn’t linger as long in the makeup chair regaling me with tales of her rock ‘n’ roll childhood or films that had made her who she was. I hadn’t even realized that she had been lingering before. I just thought we’d been having great conversations. We had been having great conversations. Had I been sending the wrong signals?

I knew that I had marveled at how beautiful and unique she was. I’d gushed, really. But I’d been so floored by her that I felt like I had to let off some steam in the form of compliments or I’d never be able to focus on anything else. That didn’t change after the “asking me out” incident. The fact that I couldn’t release any of my thoughts made it harder to think about anything. I’d see her and I’d spend ten minutes feeling like kind of an idiot, then half an hour thinking about her chatoyant eyes, about the perfect heart shape of her face, or her full lips.

It was a few weeks later that I caught myself staring at her from the safety of the shadows while she prepared to go out for a match. I’d often stared at her body and I figured that it was because she had the kind of body that every woman wanted to have: perfect curves, toned limbs, smooth skin… Looking at her in that moment, though, I wasn’t so sure about my motives. Was I wishing that I had those taut thighs or was I wishing that I knew what it felt like to drag my lips along them, to feel her shudder at the sensation of my breath on her sensitive flesh?

Her match was thrilling, as her matches almost always were. She was whipping around the place looking completely out of control, although we all knew she wasn’t. The more danger she put herself in, the more she seemed to glow with internal electricity. It was no wonder that the company was already treating her like a star. You’d have to be dead not to get drawn in by her. But it occurred to me as I watched her that I was more drawn in than others.

When I saw her come backstage, I retreated to my makeup room and counted down what felt like enough time to allow her to unwind, shower and change before I made my way over to the locker room.

“Hi there,” I greeted her, a little shyly.

She glanced up and gave me a big smile while she patted her hair dry.

“Hey you.”

“So, if the offer is still open, I’d like to say yes.”

She arched her elegant brows and gave me a coy smile. “Now what offer would that be?”

“If you still want to, then, yes, I would like to go on a date with you.”

“Interesting,” she drawled. “What brought about this change of heart?”

“You did.”

She bats her eyes and points theatrically at her chest. “Moi?”

I couldn’t help but smile. The light in her eyes told me she was happy but she still wanted to make me work for it a little. Fair enough.

“Ever since I met you, I’ve found all these things- movies, music, all sorts of stuff- that I just never thought of checking out because I either didn’t know about them or because I just never thought I’d be into them. And the more I think about it, the more I think that I might have made a lot of decisions about what I like just because it was what I saw everyone else doing.”

“Well that’s cool, but I’m not a movie or a book.”

“No. You’re this incredibly cool, funny, exciting, sexy person who I love being around and who has me thinking about all sorts of things I hadn’t considered.”

“Ok. How would you feel about a midnight picnic at an old shack I found near the river?” She grinned.

“Will you hold my hand if I get scared?”

“I promise.”

I gave a little laugh and stepped closer to her, cupping her cheek in one of my hands and marvelling at how perfectly it fit there. Unable to resist the temptation, I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against hers. And immediately, a delightful shiver ran through every part of my body.

When we separated, she gave me an almost coquettish smile and laced her arm through mine, steering us out of the locker.

“You know,” I mused, “you don’t seem really surprised by this.”

“I’m not,” she responded with a wink. “I knew you’d come around.”

#shotzi blackheart imagine #shotzi blackheart fanfic #nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling imagine #wayward wrestle writing

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

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The Tonight Show

Request 1 by anonymous: Hi hi my darling! How are you? I hope you're ok and I hope you have a great weekend. So, I've never requested anything before, and it's ok if you don't appreciate what I'm about to ask, but I've never seen anyone writing about a hot night with Henry in Brazil. You know what I mean? Summer, samba, the sea, caipirinha, that mystic moonlight (he loves Brazil, and Brazil LOVES him). Thanks for reading 💙

Request 2 by @lunedelorient: Reader writes a fantasy book. Henry discovers the story and convince Charlie, they have to produce a movie. Both met Reader, and Henry falls madly in love for her, (because she is as awesome as her book). And filming just made them closer and closer. Charlie, who knows his bro likes her (but is too scared that this doesn’t work like his other relationships) starts to give her clues, and since she likes him back, decided to let him know he can ask her out. On a very sexy way. The movie is a hit, so they have a very busy promo tour. One of the stops is Lipsync Battle. Henry doesn’t know she is the queen of Lipsync, so she used it for her plan.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Melanie)

Author’s Note: i’m so sorry if I didn’t get your requests down just right. I allowed the story to flow how it wanted to and this was what happened! So I hope you both still enjoy!

Summary: Henry finds himself falling for the writer of the latest film he’s working on. One night in Brazil, those feelings are finally acted on.

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol, fluff (surprisingly)

Word Count: 1,568

HENRY

She circles her hips, and I swear I’m hypnotized. The way she moves… it’s like the music is a part of her, flowing from her swaying hips and shaking arms. She’s a fucking goddess.

I move in my seat, hoping my hard on isn’t obvious under these low streetlights. Brazil was a bad idea. This girl is full of bad ideas, yet for some reason I seem to go along with every single one.

It started with that stupid interview. I should have known she was up to no good when I first saw her in that tight cocktail dress that did nothing to hide the teasing shape of her ass and the luscious bounce of her tits. I’d ignored my feelings up until then; but on the night, she was irresistible.

I guess if I’m going to explain myself, I should start at the beginning. Ten months before the interview. The day the script for A Hunted Crown landed in front of me and my casting agent convinced me to go for the lead role. It was a brilliant script, full of twists and heart-wrenching scenes, as well as characters that jumped off the page and became real, fleshed-out people. According to my agent, the book this movie was based on was even better. So, obviously, I had to audition. There was no way I would give up a chance to be a part of something like this. Not only could it make my career, but as a fantasy lover I know that finding a genuine story these days is harder than finding a needle in a haystack.

The only problem: she was at the audition. Her pseudonym was Little Lady, but I learned that day that her real name was Melanie. I was a few years her senior, but damn if she didn’t make me feel like I knew nothing about the world. Not in a condescending way--she was so sweet and genuine, it was adorable--but in a way that she knew so much about everything and I knew so little compared to her. I spent most of our brief, five-minute conversation trying not to gape in awe at her brilliance. I was glad she wasn’t in the actual audition room, otherwise I would have been too distracted to do my audition any good.

But five days later I got the call; I’d been casted as the main character. Cue three months of training and six months of filming. Melanie was on set everyday. She became a familiar face I enjoyed seeing all the time. We bonded through our love of fantasy and other nerdy things. Though I quickly began to memorize trivial things like how she ate a green apple with her lunch everyday, or how she giggled uncontrollably when she was tired after a tedious day of reshoots, or how her clumsiness made me yearn to look out for and protect her, I forced myself to stay focused on the film. Just get through filming, then I can let my mind wander.

Filming ended too soon. I found myself grateful that she was going to Brazil with the main cast to promote the movie (we’d shot ninety percent of the film in the mountains of Serra do Mar, just outside Rio, and the director had roots there, so we were doing half our promoting there and the rest of it back in the states) and even happier when they paired me with her for almost every interview we did.

Until The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallen. He had us do a lip sync battle. On his show, it was a tradition that he battled against his guest for the night, but since he had both me and Melanie, we were put against each other. And of course she had to choose songs that weren’t even discreet about all their sexual innuendos, and of course it had to be right then and there that I learned she knew how to move her body. It took everything in me not to drag her backstage and take her right then. Somehow, though, I managed to contain myself. I lost the battle, but for once in my life I had been too preoccupied with other things to care about winning.

I won’t be able to contain myself tonight. Not with how she’s dancing. Not with the way she’s looking directly at me, like she’s doing all of this for me. Not with how hard I already am.

… MELANIE

My pulse races, though I know it’s not from all the dancing. It’s from Henry. It’s from the way he’s looking at me right now--like he wants to devour me. The look makes adrenaline pump through my veins, mixed with just the right amount of nerves, and I force all of that into the dance. One thing most people don’t know about me is I dance as well as I write. Henry is completely entranced by my movements and something in the air--maybe it’s the amount of beer we’ve already had, or all the couples grinding and making out around us, or just the romantic atmosphere of Brazil itself--tells me that tonight I’m finally going to get what I’ve been waiting for.

I reach out for his hand and drag him from his seat before he can protest or I can think logically about what I’m about to do. I lead him to the middle of the dancing crowd before starting to dance again. He hesitantly begins to dance along with me. Before my mind can halt me in my tracks, I turn my back to him and begin to dance in front of him, swaying my hips like I’m dangling a treat in front of his nose. I gasp when I feel his hands slide around my hips and pull me against him. We fall into a steady rhythm, swaying our hips together, and with every movement my heart beats harder in my chest.

Henry nudges my ear with his nose, sending a shiver down my spine as he tells me, “I never knew you could dance like this.”

I throw my head back until it rests on his shoulder, his thick muscles flexing and unflexing with each of his movements. “You never asked,” I reply. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Henry.”

His right hand lets go of my hip and moves to rest on my stomach. My back is now flush with his chest. It’s an intimate gesture, one that sends heat straight to my face and my core. Butterflies dance just under my skin where his hand rests. I want to know how it will feel when he moves his hand lower.

“I want to know those things. I want to know you inside and out, Melanie,” he whispers in my ear, and I become a puddle of desperate want.

I spin around to face him, my lips parting when I see how dark his gaze has become--and how he can’t look anywhere but at my lips. He closes the distance between us until we share one breath.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I can’t,” I reply, my voice shaking. “I’m not a liar.”

And then he closes that last half-inch of space between us and brushes his mouth against mine. It’s a hesitant kiss, a mere brush of two nervous mouths, but my heart is still in my throat and my hands are still shaking at my sides. Henry finally closes his mouth over mine and deepens the kiss, applying much needed pressure to my mouth. An embarrassing moan claws its way from the back of my throat. Henry can no doubt hear it. But instead of laughing or pulling away, he wraps an arm around my back and pulls me as tight against him as I can possibly be. My hands reach up to cling onto his dark curls. He whispers a soft fuck and I swallow the noise greedily. Our tongues collide and make a dance of their own--a dance of giving and taking, of claiming and exploring.

Henry pulls back, albeit reluctantly, and rests his forehead against mine. We both stand in silence for a minute, attempting to catch our breath. “We should go back to the hotel,” Henry sighs.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

How the hell can one kiss be that mind-blowing? I can barely think, barely stand without my legs shaking, barely breathe. I never want him to stop kissing me.

He gives me a soft smile as his fingers loop through mine and he guides me out of the crowd and back onto emptier streets. The hotel is only two blocks away so we walk back in tense silence. Everyone--the director, the three main actors of the movie, and me--all have our own rooms, but tonight I stay in Henry’s. It’s the same as mine--single bed, bedside table, bathroom--but it’s so much more appealing than my room. Maybe it’s because, after a week of staying here, the smell of Henry is in the sheets.

“Do you want to stay?” he asks as we make our way inside.

I nod a simple yes at him. That’s all he needs before he kisses me again, slowly moving towards the bed.

Neither one of us get any sleep that night. I couldn’t be happier about it.

***

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Let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut

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nerdzzone · 4 years

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Light After Dark: Chapter Three

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

A/N: This chapter is pretty dialogue heavy so I’m sorry if people find that annoying! I have ideas to make sure that’s not always the case, but obviously most social distance relationships of any kind involve a lot of just talking and not as much in person interacting

I nervously chewed my nails as I stared at the blank phone that was lying on the bed. Surely he wouldn't even notice. He probably didn't even have his notifications turned on or his phone would be buzzing a thousand times a day. Even if he did notice that he had another like, he probably wouldn't even realize it was me.

I'd just managed to convince myself that I hadn't made an incredibly embarrassing blunder when my phone buzzed and the light flashed notifying me that I had a text. I tentatively picked it up and unlocked it, hoping it was just a coincidence, but my hopes were quickly dashed when I read it.

Henry: Are you a big rugby fan?

I groaned, knowing I was caught. For a minute I debated deleting my account completely and feigning ignorance, but I knew I had to be a mature adult, bite the bullet and own up.

Me: Not gonna lie, I was hoping you wouldn't notice 😳 I thought it might get lost in the thousands of notifications you must get everyday

Henry: Thousands? You're overestimating my celebrity! I don't post often enough to get many notifications on a day to day basis...especially not on pictures that are over a year old 😉

My cheeks were still hot, but I smiled at his teasing.

Me: Over a year? Try six months! I barely even had to scroll and I didn't mean to like it

He took a few moments to respond and I worried I'd come off as too rude, but just as I was about to apologize, his reply came through.

Henry: Hmm, if you didn't mean to like any of my posts then why were you even looking at my account?

Me: Perhaps you came up as a suggested account to follow which supposedly means that you were looking at my account first

It was clearly a lie, but I figured it was worth suggesting. Maybe he had stalked me first if he was as intrigued by me as I was by him. But my hopes were quickly dashed once again.

Henry: Perhaps that's the case, but it would be quite tricky for me to have found you when all I have to go on is your first name

Henry: Perhaps it's more likely that you were doing some googling and therefore the internet thought you'd like to know that I have Instagram

Clearly, he was more than just a pretty face so I decided to come clean before I dug a deeper hole.

Me: Alright, Detective Cavill. You win. I was shamelessly creeping and accidentally double tapped a photo

Henry: 😂😂😂

Henry: There's no shame in that! I'm touched that you even cared enough to creep me 😉 and now I can do some creeping of my own, BrooketheBaker

I smiled, pleased that he was actually interested in looking at my pictures.

Me: Oh god, I hope there's nothing too cringy on there...maybe give me a few minutes to wipe all evidence of me being anything less than beautiful and hilarious

Henry: From the brief time we spent together, I find it very hard to believe there is anything that would convince me otherwise

My face heated up again at his compliment and my cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling. I felt like I was a teenager again, giggling and blushing at my phone as I texted a boy, but talking to Henry was fun and I hadn't enjoyed talking to a man this much in a long time.

Me: Well, enter at your own risk then, but the illusion will no doubt be shattered momentarily

Really, there was nothing on Instagram that I would be embarrassed for him to see. I didn't post that often, but I was very much my normal self on social media. I didn't put on an act for the few followers I had, I stayed true to myself. And sure, sometimes that was silly and goofy and not always flawless photos like some people post, but it was me. So, if he didn't like that then it was better for me to know now.

Henry: I'll have to do a deeper dive later, but for now all I can see is a very adorable and talented baker

A notification popped up that HenryCavill had followed me and like one of my photos as I read his text. I clicked through to see which one and saw one of me holding up a massive birthday cake I'd made for Molly's birthday back in February when she'd been allowed to host hoards of her friends. I followed him back before answering.

Me: Aw, shucks. You're too sweet. I still have a lot to learn, but that's half the fun

Henry: Well, my birthday is in a couple of weeks so feel free to send any experimental cakes my way

I made a mental note to check the exact day as an idea started to form. I owed him a thank you for helping me when my ankle was hurt anyway so a cake for his birthday would be a good gesture.

Me: Any allergies or flavour preferences?

Henry: I was only teasing

I was slightly disappointed that he hadn't been serious, but another text came through before I had time to worry.

Henry: But no allergies or preferences. I'll let the expert decide what's best!

I grinned at his compliment.

Me: I will see what I can do then, but I'm a bit rusty after all this time in lockdown so try not to set those expectations too high.

Henry: I'm sure your skills are still far better than mine

Me: I would hope so since I did try to make a career out of it 😉

I heard quiet voices as Cassie and Molly left the bathroom so I awkwardly shifted off my bed, making sure to keep most of my weight on my good foot before limping to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I gave my face a quick wash as well before hobbling back to my room. My phone was flashing on my bed so I picked it up, smiling as I expected to see a text from Henry, but I was shocked to see not only a text, but also a missed call.

Henry: Sorry for being presumptuous. Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer speaking over the phone to a long text conversation

My stomach filled with nervous butterflies as my finger hovered over the little phone icon. It was cute that he actually wanted to have a proper conversation, but it was a little intimidating as well. Texting was so much less pressure and gave me time to think over my responses to come off in the best way, but over the phone it was more authentic which was probably his point.

Not wanting to make Henry think that he'd upset me by calling, I took a deep breath and pressed the button.

"Hello, Brooke," He answered right away. "I'm glad you returned my call."

"Of course," I smiled. "Sorry I didn't answer, I was just brushing my teeth."

"Hm, an important thing for a baker, I would imagine. After tasting all those sweet creations."

I laughed as I awkwardly balanced the phone on my shoulder so I could get settled back on the bed without hurting my ankle.

"That's probably true," I agreed. "But as I said, I haven't been making many sweet things to sample lately."

"I’m starting to think I might have to rescind my order for a birthday cake then," Henry teased. "I wouldn't want some sub par cake from an out of practice baker."

"Excuse me," I protested. "I never turn out sub par work! Besides, you said your birthday is in a few weeks so I have some time to practice before then."

"Oh good." I could hear the smile in his voice. "It's May Fifth to be exact, just in case you're wondering."

"Great, I'll write it on the calendar."

My words were dripping with sarcasm, but luckily Henry laughed. It was a deep and warming laugh, there was something comforting about it. I was almost disappointed when he stopped chuckling and spoke again.

"So, how did you get into baking?"

"Really it was just luck and natural talent," I admitted. "I'm not trying to sound big headed, but I used to watch a lot of cooking shows after school so I just decided to give it a go and happened to be quite good at it."

"Wow, that's impressive," Henry praised, making my cheeks blush once again. "I'll admit, I've tried my hand at making bread since this lockdown started, but it wasn't really all that good."

"Ooh, you jumped on the bread bandwagon?" I teased, knowing it was a big trend at the moment. "I'm surprised you managed to get yeast, I hear it's almost as hard to find as toilet paper at the moment."

"Luckily my mother was willing to share her supply," Henry chuckled. "But I think she regretted it when she tasted the final product."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, bread can be quite tricky," I assured him, smiling at the embarrassment in his voice. "You have to get the proofing right or it's a lost cause."

"See, the fact that I don't even know what proofing means is probably a bad sign."

I laughed out loud at that one, covering my mouth as I remembered that Cassie would probably be trying to get Molly to sleep and loud noises tended to be a distraction during that process.

"It's just a fancy term for letting it rise," I explained. "We like to make things sound more complicated than they are so that people don't realize that anyone can be a baker if they try hard enough."

"I very much doubt that's true," Henry disagreed. "There's an art to it. Maybe the technical side comes with practice, but knowing what flavours to use and how to make it look beautiful isn't something that anyone can do."

"That does come with practice too though. It's not like acting where you really need that natural gift."

"I think you need less natural gifts with acting than baking," Henry insisted. "Anyone can learn to act if they have the passion and enthusiasm."

"Hardly," I scoffed. "I can't even lie convincingly, there's no way I'd be able to properly portray an entirely different character."

"With a smile as distractingly beautiful as yours, I would imagine you probably don't need to be a particularly convincing liar."

I bit back a smile at his compliment, but I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the cheese.

"Wow, Mr. Cavill. Do they teach you that charm in acting school?"

"I never went to acting school," He admitted, the smirk in his voice clear even through the phone. "So the charm is all me I'm afraid."

"Hm, that makes it more dangerous then," I teased before turning the conversation onto his career. "So, were you busy working when everything shut down?"

"I was actually," Henry sighed. "I was gearing up to start filming the second season of the Witcher."

"Oh, I've heard of that!"

"Did you watch it?"

"No," I admitted earning another chuckle from Henry. "But I heard a lot of really good things. I'll have to check it out."

"It's worth it," He insisted. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm in it. The material is great and the other actors and actresses are amazing."

"Alright, you've convinced me," I sighed dramatically. "But if I really like it you have to promise to give me all the spoilers for season two."

Another chuckle filled my ears and my stomach fluttered at the sound.

"I can't do that I'm afraid. They swore me to secrecy before they gave me the scripts."

"Oh, so you do have the script then?"

"It's sitting right here next to me as we speak."

I smirked at his confirmation.

"Alright, then if I have any questions after I'm done, I can just sneak into your house and find out for myself."

"You're going to break into my house?!" Henry was trying to sound incredulous, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "I didn't think you were such a criminal!"

"I said sneak!" I pointed out with a laugh. "I'm not a criminal, but apparently you're easily disarmed by a nice smile and I might just have to use that to my advantage."

"Damn, I shouldn't have showed my weaknesses so early in the game," Henry said, regretfully. "But I'll have to warn you, with a massive dog and three kids under ten running around, it's quite hard to sneak anywhere around here."

"That's alright," I shrugged. "Your show might be shit anyway and it won't matter."

A laugh burst through the phone at my ribbing and I couldn't help, but join in. He had an infectious laugh. The deep, richness made it sound like one of those shoulder shaking, full body laughs that puts a smile on the face of everyone in the room. I didn't know any celebrities and I rather presumptuously always assumed that most of them would be quite stand-offish and pretentious, but Henry was delightful. He was easy to talk to and joke with. He seemed very down to earth.

"I appreciate your honesty," He told me once the laughter had subsided. "But I really hope you don't think it's shit. It's my favourite role that I've ever had. I loved the games before there was even a show in the works and the books are incredible. I basically get to make a job out of my favourite hobby now so it's quite dear to my heart."

"That's the dream really," I smiled, feeling a twinge of sadness in my heart as that's what I was also doing before my bakery had been forced to close. "It's like that old saying. If you do what you love, you won't work a day in your life. Or something like that, I might be paraphrasing."

"I know what you mean and it is very true," Henry agreed. "It's brutal work. Some days I'm up at three in the morning for make-up and we don't finish until late, but it's not as tiresome when you're fully invested and enjoying the work."

"I know the feeling. Baking is probably much less physically taxing than what you do, but the days are long and they start much earlier than most people prefer."

"With all that stirring and dough kneading I would think baking could be physically taxing at times."

I snorted a laugh at that comment.

"I've seen your muscles, Henry," I reminded him. "There is no way baking is as physically taxing as a job that requires you to look like that."

"The swords I have to wave around are surprisingly heavy," He admitted. "But you seem quite fit yourself."

"Yeah, so fit that my ankles snap at the briefest impact," I joked. "And my lungs forget how to function after about ten minutes on a treadmill."

"You have asthma. You can't hold that against yourself," Henry lightly scolded me. "But how is your ankle?"

"Much better," I smiled, flexing my foot to test out the pain levels. "It honestly feels almost healed. I still have a bit of a limp, but it's loads better."

"I'm glad to hear that. I wanted to check up on you, but I didn't want to be a bother."

"It wouldn't have been a bother at all," I assured him. "Honestly, it's been really nice to speak to an adult that I'm not related to. I love my family, I do, but it's difficult some days being trapped in a house with them all."

"I understand completely," Henry said with a chuckle. "I'm in the same boat. It's lovely having the chance to be here for an extended period of time with no other obligations weighing on my mind, but it's had it's challenges as well."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," I agreed as a piercing scream came through the phone. "Sounds like perhaps some of those challenges might be happening right now..."

"It does, but I'm in my room so it shouldn't be a pro-" Before Henry could finish his sentence there was the slam of a door as the wailing of a small child became much more clear. I heard Henry mumble something to the culprit before he turned his attention back to me. "I'm sorry. My niece is rather upset about something that is apparently of the utmost importance so I'm going to have to go."

I laughed, having been in that situation many times myself.

"That's okay, I understand. Thanks for calling though, it really has been nice."

"It has," Henry agreed as the voice in the background whined for her 'uncle Henry'. "Would it be okay if I called you again soon?"

My cheeks felt like they were about to split from how wide I was smiling at that suggestion.

"I would really like that."

"Perfect, I'll speak to you soon then."

"Yeah, speak to you soon. Good luck with your niece."

Henry sighed and thanked me before saying a quick goodbye and hanging up.

I felt giddy. He was so easy to talk to and so refreshing. He made me feel like the little black cloud that had been following me around for the last few months might finally be starting to dissipate. It was one conversation and I was levelheaded enough not to get ahead of myself, but he was starting to remind me that things might not always be as bleak as they seem.

#Light After Dark #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc

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danielletinybruiser · 3 years

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Two Years of Blue

It's been a bit since I updated here, since I suppose I mainly use my instagram account to talk about jiu jitsu. But hey, I have a few things to mull over, which tends to go better in writing, so here we are. Content warning for weight on this one.

I've been a blue belt for two years! And what a wild two years — I did change up my gym, and then, hey, there was this pandemic that ground the world to a halt (and is still doing so). I was very, very lucky, since I was able to train with Viki pretty much the whole time. We had access to mats, and were able to train, and they taught me a great deal: a lot of gi stuff, a ton of leg locks (I never went for them, or defended them well, until I basically just rolled with them for a year), and so much detail in passing and retaining guard.

Viki is a long, lanky blue belt, and I like to think I taught them a bit too. Maybe.

But of course, even with rolling during lockdown and tons of other cross-training, it took me awhile — really, a few months — to feel a bit more in the groove with jiu jitsu again. We started going back to limited, vaxxed sessions starting in March, and slowly started going back to the gym normally as everyone else got vaxxed up. I'm finally going 3-4 days per week, consistently. This past week, I think I trained grappling every day aside from Wednesday. It's mid-July, which means it's taken me that whole time to feel like I'm getting there.

I'm also competing again in just under two weeks, which has (as it typically does) lit a little fire under me to get my shit together. Or attempt to!

One thing that did help, certainly, was doing a lot of cardio the whole time, and focusing on getting that to a good place. All winter I did a lot of running, and yes, here it is... a lot of indoor cycling on a [cough, whisper] peleton. I know this makes me a bougie asshole. I know. But the workouts — on the bike and very much on the treadmill — are actually great. The running workouts with at least two of the coaches are appropriate for actual competitive runners. I've done workouts there that were extremely close to things I did as a competitive XC athlete in college. Back when I was actually fast. Fast-ish. I'm not fast anymore. Not even a tiny bit.

But my running is much improved, and the cycling has been an incredible, incredible base for me. I'm routinely doing longer or more challenging rides on non-BJJ days, and then often a shorter ride (or one of the functional strength routines) on days I roll at the gym. My whole thing with it is doing hard cardio when I'm already tired, so I get very used to pushing through. Endurance has never been my problem, but I know that I get slower physically — and, far worse, *super* discouraged mentally — when I get tired.

Doing this much cycling has had a hilarious and, uh, probably obvious side effect: I actually put on a little bit of muscle. I went into the whole Peleton thing thinking "yeah, I'll do cardio twice a day, and lose that stubborn couple of pounds that make competing at 125 dicey in like a month, easy!" and, HA. No.

What I did get, though, are leg muscles that don't fatigue as fast. I have much more power and energy than I used to, and, hand-to-heart, I don't think I was in bad shape before. It's just... better now.

That took a couple of weeks to accept, I'll be honest. I felt pretty dumb: of fucking course spending... let's say 8 hours a week doing HIIT or climb rides on a bike would build muscle. I’d gain some weight from that, naturally. But now, I'm honestly thrilled to feel comfortable and much stronger at 135 anyway.

That's where I was always going to be for grappling industries (where there's a 120 and a 135, nothing in between), and where there are 125 lb classes... it's honestly ok. I have a healthy diet, I stick to it rigorously (with the occasional cheat day, ofc), I do cardio almost every day, and I feel good. Will I be a little shortie in this weight class? Of course! But at least I feel like a stronger little shortie, and that's what counts.

As with all of this, let me be clear, I have no delusions of grandeur. This is an awesome hobby that I'm obsessed with! But I only want to compete to learn and get better and do it all on a pretty comfortable level. I'm probably never going to fuck with the open IBJJF tournaments, or anything like that. Give me a nice submission-only tournament for scrubs like me. (Honestly, I wish everything was just submission only. Forever.)

There are actual, legit athletes who use the baby tournaments for a tune-up, and young folks who may become legit athletes who are learning to compete and deal with pressure, probably just because this is NYC and there are world-class gyms here and all that. This 37-year-old goofy white bitch just wants to get as good as possible, given the obvious constraints. And enjoy myself.

To this end, my friends, coaches, and training partners deserve medals for dealing with me. Berto and Jaime (my friends and coaches) have been patiently leading me towards things I need to work on. Viki will roll with me and give me things I need to do based on our roll, and we'll drill them right then and there. And Caroline has been instrumental in me getting my head at least part of the way out of my ass, just going for things. For months, I was rolling, but just playing defense. Just talking to her about it helped, and now, every time we roll, I have that voice in my head telling me to go for things. It's helping.

I just hope I can keep that in mind in two weeks. I get nervous. Really, really nervous. I've competed... this might be nine times? This will be my third blue belt tournament, anyway, and it'll be the first since... January 2020. My head is usually so far up my ass — especially at first — that I will probably make some dumbass mistakes. But I'm working on accepting that I'll feel like an idiot and to just have fun with it and use it to LEARN and find some new things to work on. Embrace the doofus and enjoy.

Gym Feelings

I also got very, very excited about my gym yesterday. Right before going to a (fantastic) Women/trans/non-binary folks Judo class taught by a really great woman black belt, I went on about how much I love my gym. How inclusive it is, and how, just *not a toxic MMA culture* place it is. I'm just going to copy a bunch of that thread here, just absolutely gushing about Chop and Chops:

Today, in a couple of hours, I'm going to a women/trans/nonbinary grappling class at my gym, taught by a woman Judo black belt. I'm PUMPED.

It's really important to me that my MMA gym is an inclusive, positive environment for me and for everyone. MMA -- and especially Jiu Jitsu -- does NOT need to be a place dominated by bros with awful politics and horrific tattoos. It can be for anyone to enjoy.

The door to my gym has a trans-inclusive rainbow flag on it. The brothers who run it make sure that all women, trans folks, enbies, and any GNC folks feels especially comfortable and have dependable training partners for each class, especially if they are new.

Here's another thing -- its' an MMA gym, there are plenty of cis dudes! But said dudes are respectful and gracious. I feel safe training with them BECAUSE of the atmosphere and attitude of the place, that's certainly not true everywhere.

One of my favorite training partners rn is a very, very sweet bigger white belt due who wrestled at a high level. If you've done BJJ, "bigger white belt who wrestled" is typically the scariest thing. But he is an absolute gentleman, doesn't just throw his weight around...

he is conscientious and I am learning SO MUCH from rolling with him. Again, in another atmosphere, I might be intimidated. In our gym, people learn to train hard but modulate and always respect their training partners.

I know I'm gushing at this point, lol. But I really can't overstate how much that atmosphere of respect and inclusivity is important and makes a massive difference. I'm a small queer woman, training there simply feels great to me, and that's everything.

That's the thread! I can't say enough good things about this place. It's also honestly a refuge for me, a place where I see my friends (where we all hug very aggressively for a couple hours, then chitchat). I guess it all comes down to this: I'm so, so lucky to be a part of this community. I want everyone in the world to have something they love, and amazing people to support them in it/enjoy it with them.

#bjj #bjjwomen #grappling #mma

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morwensteelsheen · 3 years

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I’m starting grad school this autumn and honestly I’m getting nervous. Like yes I am v excited about the whole prospect overall and I do miss being a student but am intimidated by 3 hr long seminars and thesis writing and massive amounts of reading… everyone keeps saying it’s gonna be very different from undergrad so okay, but how specifically? Is it the large amounts of reading? I already had insane amounts of reading (humanities degree hurrah) especially in my last two years but could you expound on your own experience and how you take notes/read quickly/summarize or just how to deal with first time grad students?

Oh, yeah for sure! A necessary disclaimer here is that I'm at a certain poncy English institution that is noted for being very bad at communicating with its students and very bad at treating its postgrad students like human beings, so a lot of these strategies I've picked up will be overkill for anyone who has the good sense to go somewhere not profoundly evil lol.

So I'll just preface this by saying that I am a very poor student in terms of doing what you're supposed to. I'm very bad at taking notes, I never learned how to do it properly, and I really, really struggle with reading dense literature. That said, I'm probably (hopefully?) going to get through this dumb degree just fine. Also — my programme is a research MPhil, not taught, so it's a teensy bit more airy-fairy in terms of structure. I had two classes in Michaelmas term, both were once a week for two hours each; two in Lent, one was two hours weekly, the other two hours biweekly; and no classes at all in Easter. I also have no exam component, I was/am assessed entirely on three essays (accounting for 30% of my overall mark) and my dissertation (the remaining 70%), which is, I think, a little different to how some other programmes are. I think even some of the other MPhils here are more strenuous than that, like Econ and Soc Hist is like 100% dissertation? Anyways, not super important, but knowing what you're getting marked on is important. I dedicated considerably less time than I did in undergrad to perfecting my coursework essays because they just don't hold as much weight now. The difference between a 68 and a 70 just wasn't worth the fuss for me, which helped keep me sane-ish.

The best advice anyone ever gave me was that, whereas an undergrad degree can kind of take over your life without it becoming a problem, you need to treat grad school like a job. That's not because it's more 'serious' or whatever, but because if you don't set a really strict schedule and keep to it, you'll burn yourself out and generally make your life miserable. Before I went back on my ADD meds at the end of Michaelmas term, I sat myself down at my desk and worked from 11sh to 1800ish every day. Now that I'm medicated, I do like 9:30-10ish to 1800-1900 (except for now that I'm crunching on my diss, where, because of my piss-poor time management skills I'm stuck doing, like, 9:30-22:30-23:00). If you do M-F 9-5, you'll be getting through an enormous amount of work and leaving yourself loads of time to still be a human being on the edges. That'll be the difference between becoming a postgrad zombie and a person who did postgrad. I am a postgrad zombie. You do not want to be like me.

The 'work' element of your days can really vary. It's not like I was actually consistently reading for all that time — my brain would have literally melted right out of my ears — but it was about setting the routine and the expectation of dedicating a certain, consistent and routinized period of time for focusing on the degree work every day. My attention span, even when I'm medicated, is garbage, so I would usually read for two or three hours, then either work on the more practical elements of essay planning, answer emails, or plot out the early stages of my research.

In the first term/semester/whatever, lots of people who are planning on going right into a PhD take the time to set up their applications and proposals. I fully intended on doing a PhD right after the MPhil, but the funding as an international student trying to deal with the pandemic proved super problematic, and I realised that the toll it was taking on my mental health was just so not worth it, so I've chosen to postpone a few years. You'll feel a big ol' amount of pressure to go into a PhD during your first time. Unless you're super committed to doing it, just try and tune it out as much as you can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with taking a year (or two, or three, or ten) out, especially given the insane conditions we're all operating under right now.

I'll be honest with you, I was a phenomenally lazy undergrad. It was only by the grace of god and being a hard-headed Marxist that I managed to pull out a first at the eleventh hour. So the difference between UG and PG has been quite stark for me. I've actually had to do the reading this year, not just because they're more specialised and relevant to my research or whatever, but because, unlike in UG, the people in the programme are here because they're genuinely interested (and not because it's an economic necessity) and they don't want to waste their time listening to people who haven't done the reading.

I am also a really bad reader. Maybe it's partially the ADD + dyslexia, but mostly it's because I just haven't practiced it and never put in the requisite effort to learn how to do it properly. My two big pointers here are learning how to skim, and learning how to prioritise your reading.

This OpenU primer on skimming is a bit condescending in its simplicity, but it gets the point across well. You're going to want to skim oh, say, 90% of the reading you're assigned. This is not me encouraging you to be lazy, it's me being honest. Not every word of every published article or book is worth reading. The vast majority of them aren't. That doesn't mean the things that those texts are arguing for aren't worth reading, it just means that every stupid rhetorical flourish included by bored academics hoping for job security and/or funding and/or awards isn't worth your precious and scarce time. Make sure you get the main thrust of each text, make sure you pull out and note down one or two case studies and move right the hell on. There will be some authors whose writing will be excellent, and who you will want to read all of. Everything else gets skimmed.

Prioritisation is the other big thing. You're going to have shitty weeks, you're probably going to have lots of them. First off, you're going to need to forgive yourself for those now — everybody has them, yes, even the people who graduated with distinctions and go on to get lovely £100,000 AHRC scholarships. Acknowledge that there will be horrible weeks, accept it now, and then strategise for how to get ahead of them. My personal strategy is to plan out what I'm trying to get out of each course I take, and then focus only on the readings that relate to that topic.

I took a course in Lent term that dealt with race and empire in Britain between 1607 and 1900; I'm a researcher of the Scottish far left from 1968-present, so the overlap wasn't significant. But I decided from the very first day of the course that I was there to get a better grasp about the racial theories of capitalism and the role of racial othering in Britain's subjugation of Ireland. Those things are helpful to me because white supremacist capitalism comes up hourly in my work on the far left, and because the relationship of the Scottish far left to Ireland is extremely important to its self definition. On weeks when I couldn't handle anything else, I just read the texts related to that. And it was fine, I did fine, I got my stupid 2:1 on the final essay, and I came out of it not too burnt out to work on my dissertation.

Here is where I encourage you to learn from my mistakes: get yourself a decent group of people who you can have in depth conversations about the material with. I was an asshole who decided I didn't need to do that with any posh C*mbr*dge twats, and I have now condemned myself to babbling incomprehensible nonsense at my partner because I don't have anyone on my course to work through my ideas with. These degrees are best experienced when they're experienced socially. In recent years (accelerated by the pandemic, ofc), universities have de-emphasised the social component of postgrad work, largely to do with stupid, long-winded stuff related to postgrad union organising etc. It's a real shame because postgrads end up feeling quite socially isolated, and because they're not having these fun and challenging conversations, their work actually suffers in the long term. This is, and I cannot stress this enough, the biggest departure from undergrad. Even the 'weak links' or whatever judgemental nonsense are there because they want to be. That is going to be your biggest asset. Talk, talk, talk. Listen, listen, listen. Offer to proofread people's papers so you get a sense of how people are thinking about things, what sort of style they're writing in, what sources they're referring to. Be a sponge and a copycat (but don't get done for plagiarism, copy like this.) Also: ask questions that seem dumb. For each of your classes, ask your tutors/lecturers who they think the most important names in their discipline are. It sounds silly, but it's really helpful to know the intellectual landscape you're dealing with, and it means you know whose work you can go running to if you get lost or tangled up during essay or dissertation writing!

You should also be really honest about everything — another piece of advice that I didn't follow and am now suffering for. The people on your courses and in your cohort are there for the same reasons as you, have more or less the same qualifications as you, and are probably going to have a lot of the same questions and insecurities as you. If you hear an unfamiliar term being used in a seminar, just speak up and ask about it, because there're going to be loads of other people wondering too. But you should also cultivate quite a transparent relationship with your supervisor. I was really cagey and guarded with mine because my hella imposter syndrome told me she was gonna throw my ass out of the programme if I admitted to my problems. Turns out no, she wouldn't, and that actually she's been a super good advocate for me. If you feel your motivation slipping or if you feel like you're facing challenges you could do with a little extra support on, go right to your supervisor. Not only is that what they're there to do, they've also done this exact experience before and are going to be way more sympathetic and aware of the realities of it than, say, the uni counselling service or whatever.

Yeah so I gotta circle back to the notes thing... I really do not take notes. It's my worst habit. Here's an example of the notes I took for my most recent meeting with my supervisor (revising a chapter draft).

No sane person would ever look at these and think this is a system worth replicating lol. But the reason they work for me is because I also record (with permission) absolutely everything. My mobile is like 90% audio recordings of meetings and seminars lol. So these notes aren't 'good' notes, but they're effective for recalling major points in the audio recording so I can listen to what was said when I need to.

Sorry none of this is remotely organised because it's like 2330 here and my brain is so soft and mushy. I'm literally just writing things as I remember them.

Right, so: theory is a big thing. Lots of people cheap out on this and it's to their own detriment. You say you're doing humanities, and tbh, most of the theory involved on the humanities side of the bridge is interdisciplinary anyways, so I'm just gonna give you some recommendations. The big thing is to read these things and try to apply them to what you're writing about. This sounds so fucking condescending but getting, like, one or two good theoretical frameworks in your papers will actually put you leaps and bounds beyond the students around you and really improve your research when the time comes. Also: don't read any of these recommendations without first watching, like an intro youtube video or listening to a podcast. The purists will tell you that's the wrong way to do it, but I am a lazy person and lazy people always find the efficient ways to do things, so I will tell the purists to go right to hell.

Check out these impenetrable motherfuckers (just one or two will take your work from great to excellent, so don't feel obliged to dig into them all):

Karl Marx and Fredrich Engels (I'm not just pushing my politics, but also, I totally am) — don't fucking read Capital unless you're committed to it. Oh my god don't put yourself through that unless you really have to. Try, like, the 18th Brumaire of Louis Napoleon for the fun quotes, and Engels on the family.

Frantz Fanon — Wretched of the Earth. Black Skin White Masks also good, slightly more impossible to read

Benedict Anderson — Imagined Communities. It's about nationalism, but you will be surprised at how applicable it is to... so many other topics

Judith Butler — she really sucks to read. I love her. But she sucks to read. If you do manage to read her though, your profs will love you because like 90% of the people who say they've read her are lying

Bourdieu — Distinction is good for a lot of things, but especially for introducing the idea of social and cultural capital. There's basically no humanities sub-discipline that can't run for miles on that alone.

Crenshaw — the genesis of intersectionality. But, like, actually read her, not the ingrates who came after her and defanged intersectionality into, like, rainbow bombs dropped over Gaza.

The other thing is that you should read for fun. My programme director was absolutely insistent that we all continue to read for pleasure while we did this degree, not just because it's good for destressing, but because keeping your cultural horizons open actually makes your writing better and more interesting. I literally read LOTR for the first time in, like February, and the difference in my writing and thinking from before and after is tangible, because not only did it give me something fun to think about when I was getting stressy, but it also opened up lots of fun avenues for thought that weren't there before. I read LOTR and wanted to find out more about English Catholics in WWI, and lo and behold something I read about it totally changed how I did my dissertation work. Or, like, a girl on my course who read the Odyssey over Christmas Break and then started asking loads of questions about the role of narrative creation in the archival material she was using. It was seriously such a good edict from our director.

Also, oh my god, if you do nothing else, please take this bit seriously: forgive yourself for the bad days. The pressure in postgrad is fucking unreal. Nobody, nobody is operating at 100% 100% of the time. If you aim for 60% for 80% of the time and only actually achieve 40% for 60% of the time, you will still be doing really fucking well. Don't beat yourself up unnecessarily. Don't make yourself feel bad because you're not churning out publishable material every single day. Some days you just need to lie on the couch, order takeout, and watch 12 hours of Jeopardy or whatever, and I promise you that that is a good and worthwhile thing to do. You don't learn and grow without rest, so forgive yourself for the moments and days of unplanned rest, and forgive yourself for when you don't score as highly as you want to, and forgive yourself when you say stupid things in class or don't do all of (or any of) the class reading.

Uhhhh I think I'm starting to lose the plot a bit now. Honestly, just ping me whatever questions you have and I'm happy to answer them. There's a chance I'll be slower to respond over the next few days because my dissertation is due in a week (holy fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) but I will definitely respond. And honestly, no question is too dumb lol. I wish I'd been able to ask someone about things like what citation management software is best or how to set up a desk for maximum efficiency or whatever, but I was a scaredy-cat about it and didn't. So yeah, ask away and I will totally answer.

#asks

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fullmarvelheart · 3 years

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The Man From the Night

Pairing: Avengers x Enhanced!OFC

Word Count: 2,815

WARNING: swearing, angst themes of anxiety, such as panic attacks. Sexual assault is also, vaguely, mentioned as well. Please read at your own discretion.

A/N: Ooh your savior is here! Had to do that! But things are just getting interesting. Image is not my own, all rights to the owner. All mistakes are my own.

Series Masterlist

As I begin to wake, the first thing that greets me is a throbbing headache. Though, as I reach to help ease the pain, I find my arm being pulled slightly back from something attached to it. My eyes quickly shoot open and after blinking away the blurry fog that fills my vision, I see a metal cuff encasing my wrist, tying it to whatever hard surface I'm on. I go to pull it off with my other hand but find that restrained as well. I being to panic and take notice my surroundings.

The walls are filled with old looking wallpaper that's peeling off the walls, blank of any object. The air smells musty and damp. If I had been found by them, I know this isn't the place I'd wake up to. Still, that doesn't ease my fear.

I begin to thrash around, trying to loosen whatever is holding me down. To no avail, however. The noise must have notified my captors because I soon hear a pair of hurried footsteps echoing up some stairs. I inhale sharply when I feel his presence. The man who is not of Earth.

Realizing I had recovered my strength in my sleep, and by sheer adrenaline and instinct alone, I expel a force only where the shackles rest that send them flying through the walls of the room I'm in. Clumsily, I climb off the table as dizziness began to set in from the new and surprisingly intense task I preformed.

The door suddenly flies open and I find myself backing against the farthest wall, prepared to blow it out in case I need a quick escape. The man wears a smirk of amusement, but his body language holds a defensive stance, while his hand grips onto the door knob. He looks ready to strike at any given time. I put my guard up, silently cursing at the fact that I had no weapon near me if I needed one. Though, I do take this time to finally observe the guy.

I was right when I said he was tall. He stands at a height of what appears to be a few inches above six feet. His long raven-colored hair is slightly curly and some of it hangs lazily on the side of his face. His bright emerald green eyes are staring directly into my own blue ones. That smirk is still plastered on his face, though, his breaths come out rapid and uneven, as if he had just ran from somewhere. The stairs, duh... I wasn't able to get a good look at the rest of him as a voice interrupted my... um... observing.

"Are you finished staring at me, human?" His voice, smooth and heavily accented, one that sounds vaguely familiar to me. Though, I do not miss the condescending tone in his voice, and I dare not correct his mistake.

"Pfft! I wasn't staring." I sneer back at him.

"Then what would you call that?" He inquires as his smirk seems to grow.

"Analyzing." I reply quickly, almost too quickly.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes while crossing his arms. My eyes dare not to explore the being standing in front of me any further.

"Who are you?" I growl lowly, feeling defensive again. "Why was I locked up?"

Again, he rolls his eyes and I really want to punch him and just take my leave. In a split second he stands before me and I immediately plaster my hands against the wall, summoning my powers to them, draining any energy source nearby, other than him, that I could. He looks down slightly and I catch the faint blue of my ability reflecting in his eyes.

"I wouldn't do such a foolish thing. There is another mortal behind that wall, and judging by the way you acted earlier today, I think you wouldn't want any harm to come to them."

I think of his words before feeling for a presence behind the wall. Sure enough, he's right. I can feel the energy surge through the person's nervous system, and even their heart. But that doesn't mean I'd let him scare me into submission. Beings much scarier have in the past, and he isn't one of them. Instead of blasting the wall back, I flip my palms over and used the force collected to push him back away from me. He flies over the table I was chained to and I try to make a run for it. I'm almost at the door, when I feel a blade at my throat and my body being jerked back.

Our heavy breaths are the only thing filling the silence of the room. When he drops his guard seemingly thinking I submitted myself to him, I use my hand that's closest to his own to apply just the right amount of pressure to his wrist, causing him to drop the blade before my other hand catches it. I step out of his reach and point the blade towards him, still taking small steps back to create distance.

"I'm going to ask this again," I say in a voice heavy with adrenaline and caution. "Who the hell are you?"

He grins, menacingly, as he stepped towards me.

"Someone you don't want to mess with." Suddenly the knife vanishes and I let out a startled gasp.

Barely a millisecond later, I feel my body push my legs towards the open door in order to escape. However as soon as I do, I'm tackled to the ground. My head hits with a sickening thud, stars dance across my vison. I try to move but find my hands bound above my head and pressure on the lower half of my body. I open my eyes to find him hovering over me while holding my wrists in one hand, the other near my shoulder to keep him off my torso, and his legs holding down my own.

My heart starts to beat faster and my breath grows sharper as I feel myself reliving a nightmare. Tears prickle my eyes before I clench them shut while focusing on trying to stop the panic attack that is beginning to develop. The pressure on my wrist lessens as my breaths grow harsher and I feel my body trembling.

I can't stop it.

Words are being spoken above me, but I can't hear over the ringing in my ears or the sound of my quickening heartbeat. I try to not summon my powers but in my panicked state, I can't focus on controlling them. A few things burst around me, causing me to shriek in fear.

Suddenly I'm being lifted up and encased in a strong embrace. One hand is rubbing soothing circles on my back while the other one brushes through my hair.

"I'm sorry. Shh, you're ok. I won't harm you like that." A voice says above me.

My cries slowly turn to whimpers and things stop breaking. Pretty soon, it is just my trembling form being gently rocked by the being who holds me close. They continue to whisper calming words to me as my breathing began to even out.

"Are you quite finished?" The voice, his voice, asks rather annoyed, sounding completely different than he did moments ago.

I growl lowly to myself as I forcefully, by that I mean shakily, push myself away from the raven-haired man.

After getting up and not sparing a glance towards him, I walk over to a small table that was placed in the hallway. Glass shards and other debris littered the floor but I don't care about the wreckage around me. Using the table to prop myself up, I begin to grow angry, which slowly replaces the fear still coursing through my tired body. My fingers began curling into fists and my breath grows heavy with rage.

I'm pissed.

At the raven-haired man, but mostly at myself. It had happened so long ago yet it still constantly gets the better of me. Constantly! Everything they did does, and everything he did still remains a heavy burden on my mind.

"DAMN IT!" I scream, hitting the wooden table hard enough for it to go crumbling to the floor.

The man behind me chuckles.

"That was quite... the... s-show..." His words fade as I begin slowly taking the energy coursing through his cells, making him grow a little more tired with each passing moment.

He stumbles to the floor.

"I'll ask you. once. more." I growl through gritted teeth, slowly turning towards him.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" I roar, causing the man to flinch back, though tired.

"L-Loki, of A-Asgard."He breathes out.

Satisfied with the answer, I stop draining him, and with a flick of my wrist emitting a soft blue glow, he seems to be able to breathe again.

"Why was I chained up?" I sneer, though sounding significantly less pissed off than before.

"I-I do believe that it was you who attacked me first. Call it insurance." He arrogantly says, bringing himself up to stand, though as if he was a newborn creature.

"It was you who came at me with daggers, after you created a... shadow... or whatever it was." I counter. "I was only defending myself." I say the last part quieter, feeling the adrenaline leave my system.

I groan in frustration before bring my hands to my face and sliding down the wall to sit on top of the now broken table.

"You know, you remind me of someone... when you lose your temper, that is." He comments with a sly smile that I miss. Though, I do hear him still stumbling slightly from the drain.

"Shut up!" I growl into my hands.

He scoffs.

"Why'd you bring me here?" I ask after a few moments.

I'm met with silence.

"What? Got nothing to say?" I snap, looking towards where he stands, leaning against the wall.

"Would you rather me leave you in the street with the spectacle you created?" He shot back.

It was my turn to be silent as I press my lips into a thin line and move my eyes to the floor. My mind began to swirl with the "what ifs". Those two dangerous word kept popping up in various scenarios. None of them good. They never are.

"Got nothing to say?" He mocks.

I shoot him a small glare before bringing my gaze back to the floor.

"Thank you, but only for getting me out of there." I say, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He grunts in acknowledgement and a peaceful silence engulfs the room. That is until the biggest spider I have ever seen in my whole damn life lands directly on my flats I had worn to work.

I squeal loudly and jump up in terror then proceed to fling the spider off my shoe. When it lands, it begins to run, though doesn't get far as my foot comes crashing down on top of it. I huff with rapid breaths before looking over to the man, Loki as I recall, to see his eyebrows raised and amusement lacing his features.

"Don't say anything." I quickly command to avoid feeling more embarrassment.

He raises his hands in mock surrender while slightly chuckling to himself, only for me to flip him 'the bird'. But now that the air between us is calmer, I take the chance to look around and get my bearings.

The air still smells musty, but it's now clouded with dust particles, and the walls still look worn and old. The wooden floors, cracked and falling apart. Old wallpaper hangs, peeling off the walls and a thick layer of dust rests on the undisturbed objects in the hall. If it were just those things, the place would look untouched and abandoned. However, because of my destruction, that's far from accurate.

Besides the broken table, all the various lights once hanging off the walls and ceiling have been blow up. Broken glass resides in the old walls, their jagged and sharp edges sticking out like clear knives. Other pieces lie littered over the floor. Bits of dry wall, where electrical lines ran along them, lay across the floor, the edges chard and smoking. Objects from the walls lie scattered over the floor as well, some broken while others are not.

I take a deep breath as I take in what I did, but I push the internal regret aside as I turn back to man that's looking at me apprehensively. This place has this familiarity to it, one that brings back not so good memories. So, I try to push it all back in the locked box I keep those things in.

"You live here?" I question with disgust, masking my inner turmoil.

"Well it looked a lot better before you happened. And it's the only place available for the amount of riches I had. Why must you Midgardians make things so ridiculously expensive?"

I let out a breathy chuckle as his grumbling is realistically funny.

"I wish I knew..." I murmur before a few moments of silence. "Tell me, what did you have in mind for after I woke up? Unless you were planning on keeping me chained up the whole time?" I sass while crossing my arms and shifting my weight to one leg.

"I hadn't gotten to that part of the plan yet before you woke up." He says with annoyance.

"Perfect..." I grumble. "Well... There's no way I'm staying here. I have my own home that needs to be attended to. But you aren't staying here either." I say sharply while starring the man down.

He sways slightly, eyes widened.

"Beg you pardon?" The disbelief in his tone has me smirk.

"Do you have anything here that's important?"

"Wha-wh-I..." I grin, seeming to catch him off guard.

"Well if you do, it won't go anywhere." I say marching up to him.

Before he has the chance to dodge my hand, I manage to collect enough energy, grab him, and teleport us to my living room. The smell of mint quickly surrounds me before it is replaced by the fresh sent of my home.

"Oh, this is so much better." I groan tiredly while flopping on the couch.

Finally, something comfortable...

"You weren't complaining about the remains of the table when you sat on that."

My eyes widen in shock. I just heard Loki's voice inside my head.

No! That's impossible!

"Not impossible, darling." He chuckles from somewhere in the room.

My mouth falls agape before I turn to look for him. When I find him, he's mumbling something before a dizziness sets in. I hold onto the couch for stability but still fall over, fading into the blackness.

~Loki's p.o.v~

Finally! Although the girl's abilities are extremely powerful, she is extremely naïve.

I smirk at this small mortal, but it quickly fades when I remember how she forced me to give her information, information I lacked in return. Or how she overwhelmed me with the feeling of exhaustion, one that's still very present. Or how she blocked me from her thoughts as she was calming down and right before she brought us here. The even more worrisome thing for me is that she didn't even know she did so, or rather, appeared not to know such things. Usually, blocking my abilities takes practice, training. All of which she clearly lacks. Her powers feed off of her emotions, I noticed. Such a pity. But her raw power is terrifying.

I begin to slowly walk around the place in which she brought us, perhaps her home. I look around for something to eat, as she left me quite tired and hungry. While I'm beyond shocked at how she brought me here, I am grateful. She wasn't wrong to be disgusted by my old lodgings, but I also felt her understanding of the situation. Which confused me even more than I already am. Her thoughts often betray her outward mannerism, creating this paradox to her.

As I wander, I notice the place is void of anything personal, besides her articles of clothing. There are no pictures that you'd expect to see in a Midgardian home. Not even an image of her. Ever her mug is a blank white. There is no personal touch in the place, it's rather... unnerving. If she didn't act so comfortable here, I would assume this was a random building.

I walk back to where she lay in order to wake her up. But as I get closer, I notice how comfortable she is, how peaceful. I noticed the dark circles under her eyes when I brought her back to my place. I had expected her to sleep longer, but she was out for barely thirty minutes.

Deciding she needs this, I exit the room and find a way to occupy myself and hopefully find something to eat.

Chapter 3

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singeramg · 4 years

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Midnight: Chapter 17

Pairing: Clark Kent-Superman/ Metahuman! Black! OFC

Rating: M

A/n: Hey everyone!!! Since I am on lock down and get to spend more time getting these ideas out my head you guys get another chapter! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Language, Non-con sexual situations, angst. I tag more and it ruins the chapter but just an FYI this serves as your potential trigger warning.

Catch up HERE!

Midnight: Chapter 17

Only the sky saw Superman race across it to Bruce’s house. The team with the exception of Arthur who they hadn’t been able to get in touch with, had been working around the clock to try and find Gia.

“Tell me what you’ve got?”

Clark’s voice held a tone of superiority that commanded respect even when he wasn’t going for that. Victor speaks up first.

“I’ve been tracking the dark web chatter trying to find anything that would lead us to who took Gia or where she is. I haven’t had a hit on who took her, but there has been talk about a big Russian politician who doubles as a mob leader coming into town. He is supposed to be meeting with our very own Harvey Dent at a club downtown.”

“That doesn’t bode well for anyone if he starts making allies.”

Bruce comments

“What does that mean for Gia?” Barry asks

“I say if there is some meet up going down, then it could mean whoever took Gia is involved in this too. Harvey Dent could definitely pull this off, especially if he viewed her as a threat.”

Bruce answers and finds himself leaning against the control panel Victor was currently sitting at.

“More than any of us?” Clark was still not sure but willing to hear them out.

“Yes if her power was a direct threat to their plans then why not get her out the way?”

Diana offers and looks over the screen.

“So what did we do?”

Barry asks, not having a plan himself.

“I think we should go undercover. At least a couple of us.”

“Who exactly?”

Clark asks skeptically

Diana smiles and Clark knows he is in trouble..

*Later*

Clark, Diana and Bruce all went undercover to the club where this meet up between Dent and the Boss was supposed to happen. Clark walked in separately from Bruce and Diana who made themselves look like the VIP’s they were and together, although they didn’t have to try very hard to appear that they were on some sort of date.

Clark however came in looking like a more....disheveled version of himself. He hadn’t been shaving all week and Diana did something with his hair that defined his curls but didn’t look as wild as they normally looked. She tossed a charcoal grey button and jeans at him. Left him with a “meet us at the club”.

So here he was in a loud club packed with people, he honestly could have listened to whatever conversation he wanted from outside, but he wanted to have a good look at this Dent character he would be knocking the lights out of later. He leaned against the bar, taking a sip of a drink he ordered, listening for signs of trouble, sitting it down on the bar top, honing in on Dent and the boss chatting it up about two tables down from Bruce and Diana.

“Well what’s a hunk like you doing in here all alone?”

A petite olive toned girl that almost looks too young to be in the club, thrusts herself onto him bodily. Her breasts practically falling out of the top of her ill fitting red dress he perfume almost fascinatingly thick, her heart is racing although it doesn’t show on her face. He gives her a nervous smile and politely pulls her manicured hand off his arm and chest.

“Sorry I am not alone... I was just waiting on my girlfriend...”

He puts up the drink and takes another sip, hopefully to imply to her that he is not interested.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be alone? I am alone tonight but I don’t want to leave that way.”

She flips her hair over her shoulder, and he backs away again, only now he begins to feel odd. His head begins to swirl, he clears his throat, takes another drink but it doesn't help.

“I appreciate your obvious interest but I cannot join you. I..I’m just going to go.”

Clark pulls away and stumbles off to the bathroom, unawares to Diana and Bruce.

He stands at the sink as the last man exits the restroom. He throws water in his face, but his head begins to ring. He feels weaker by the second as he is holding on to the sick tightly but it doesn’t break under his hands which it should under normal circumstances.

The lights in the bathroom flicker and shut off for a moment. When they come back on the blonde woman is standing behind him, jibbing his neck with a syringe and it’s lights out for Clark Kent...

*1 hours later*

“I told you the plan would work!”

Clark was slowly coming to, but still felt weak. The voices he was hearing sounded familiar, but it couldn’t be.

“See look he’s even waking up now. Goody!”

There was an excited clap and then an annoyed grunt.

“Oh please Tanya don’t act like you aren’t excited. I mean wait until we tell the boss man we caught fucking Superman. He's going to lose his shit!”

“When will he get here?”

The second voice is also familiar but not as much as the first. The first had kept him up many nights looking for it. Clark’s eyes pop open to find not only the dark haired girl from the club looking at him but his Gia as well.

Only something was off about her. Her eyes held no warmth looking at him. Her smile is wide, but manic. It was if she had become unhinged in the week she had been missing. Clark quickly realizes he’s chained down. Heavy duty chains it seems because they won’t budge as he tugs so he can grab Gia and get out of wherever they were. To his confusion she only laughs.

“Aww sweetheart you think we used chains YOU could get out of?”

She is wearing a version of her Midnight uniform but it’s not the same. The top is cut way lower and they are short-shorts at the bottom rather than the skin tight catsuit type with the gray detailing she always wore. This version had red in its place. She had foregone the mask and everything about her makeup was dramatic with red and black tinted shadow and bright red lips, her hair straightened. She saunters over to him slowly, also opting for heels rather than the flat boots she normally fought in. Her lips curl upward into another smile as she walks around him slowly. Her hands fold into his thick hair, playing with it.

“Your mind is interesting Mr. Kent.”

She finishes her circle, stopping in front of him.

“Gia what is going on? Let me out of here?”

“Clark sweetheart, they said you were smart. Why would I let you out? I am not this Gia person you speak of, but I mean if she IS the chick you are fucking then maybe we can make an exception and I’ll be her.”

He was confused; she was speaking as if she had no clue who he was or who she even is. The Tanya girl looks at Gia with a smirk.

“Should I call boss man?”

Gia looks as if she is concentrating really hard, then comes back to the moment in front of her.

“He’s a bit busy. Still has... company...in his penthouse.”

She says ‘company’ in a tone that implies whoever their boss was, was engaging in sexual activity. Clark could care less, he had to get himself and more importantly Gia out of this mess. He looks her over again up and down, to his chagrin he does appreciate how she looks standing that close to him in something that short, her long legs on display, his mind flashes to those wrapped around him. Gia looks at him, they lock eyes and she raises an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“I think I should be allowed to have a little fun. I’ve been cooped up here, you got to go out and get him. He said catch him, never said I couldn’t have a little fun with him while we wait.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” The Tanya girl asks but she knows it’s not.

“Yes. Besides if you are so worried go stand watch for the boss and once he’s...done...let me know.”

Clark watches as Gia’s iris light up glowing green and Tanya’s eyes light up the same color to match. Tanya suddenly says as her eyes return back to normal and no indication that her eyes had been glowing.

“Okay I’ll go stand watch.”

The girl leaves them alone, and Gia giggles that insane laugh again.

“It’s going to be fun playing with that power. You won’t tell anyone I have it will you? You seem like the trust worthy type with all those goody two shoes and morals you are trying to spin on us humans.”

Clark pulls at his bonds again, but he knows it pointless.

“Gia let me out of here. We can fight like normal people when our lives aren’t at risk.”

She only plops down on his lap, straddling him, he can feel her body weight as opposed to normal where he only feels light pressure.

“I should start off by introducing myself since you keep calling me the wrong name. I would tell you my real name, but you don’t need to know that. A good villain never gives it all away in the first round. Around these parts everyone calls me Synergy.”

Thoughts fly through his mind as it clicks that Gia truly has no clue who she is and that does not bode well for him. In fact his mind is still a bit swirly from however they got him here. She runs her finger down the side of his face tenderly.

*-“How did they get him here?”*

“Now you are asking the right questions. Although gosh you look just like a goddamn puppy when you are confused. It’s quite endearing. Makes me want to keep you Clark Kent of Smallville, A.K.A Superman of Krypton. Hey sweetheart... Did you know Kryptonite still works even in powdered form. I wondered why anyone would think Superman would be in a club, without glasses, and furthermore that nobody would figure it out, but one would guess that you would turn up trying to find Harvey Dents meeting, just like boss said he would. Pft like Dent is bright enough to manufacture this.”

He thinks and tries to remember how they were able to get the Kryptonite into him, he can’t pinpoint it.

“A little dabble in Tanya’s perfume, a dose in that pesky little drink, chain links made with the power blended in... all bring us to this very moment. With me sitting on your lap, and you sitting here confused and rampant thoughts about my legs being wrapped around your waist.”

Clark was now nervous because how in the hell did she know he had thought that. She only smiles a coy smile and leans closer to him, her lips next to his ear.

“I will chalk you being a little slow on the uptake to your Kryptonite exposure. If you haven’t guessed I have the ability to read minds and well as control them. I have been able to read you since you woke up. I’ll mark you down as nervous and horny. How about that?”

“I wouldn’t go that far as to say horny.”

He tried to deflect, a collected smirk on his face. She only pulls herself closer to his chest, pushing them pelvis to pelvis. He can feel the heat of her center through the shorts she is wearing, and the body was still Gia’s even if the mind wasn’t. He feels terrible as he could feel himself start to harden against her. She hisses as she grinds against him, eyes closed, as he gets harder and harder.

“Oh really Superman, so what do you call being on hard between my legs on your home planet? Because here that means you want to fuck me. You know seeing as we will be unbothered for a while due to my little party trick. I say we get to know each other a little better, Superman.”

She runs her hands down his clothed chest, and avoids eye contact. Clark tries not to linger too hard on one thought for fear of compromising anyone else. He pulls on the chain again and Gia / Synergy just starts kissing his neck, trying very hard to will the quickly forming erection away. He couldn’t sleep with Gia. Now while she was like this it was immoral, unjust, and he knew that the true her didn’t want him this way. He didn’t really want her this way. If he were to be with Gia again he wanted her aware and the full understanding about what he was doing to her body, he wanted her mind fully on what they were sharing. This puppet couldn’t give him truly desired from her.

“Awe now baby don’t be like that. I think we could be good together. The amount of Energy pouring from you. Even weakened is addictive. The sex would be amazing, and trust I know just what to do with this.”

She reaches down cupping him on the outside of his jeans. He groans as she peppers kisses on his jawline again, he can feel himself giving in as she moves her hands to the button on his jeans. He is dreading how her hand moved downwards all while simultaneously anticipating it. The moral war wages in his mind, as her breath fans across his neck and she reaches his cock.

She whispers in his ear again

“Clark baby, think about it … we could have it all. Be the two most powerful beings in the universe, it starts right here with nobody being the wiser, join me in the darkness.”

The lights flicker in the room and just as she grasps his length in her hand, gliding up and down, he almost short-circuits as pleasure begins to override all other thoughts but her last words ring some sort of bell in his head despite feeling he was about to say damn it all. Her words that sparked him to think

“...join me in the darkness.”

*Flashback*

Her heart rate was ticking up. The thin walls between her room and his made it impossible for him not to hear her. She had started moving around on her bed. He could smell the sweat that had formed on her skin. The whimpering began and that was his queue to get up from his bed.

He normally spent most of his time at Lois apartment, but with bringing Gia home, he had taken responsibility for her. He could just leave her on his mother's doorstep for her to take care of. Clark could have and his mother would have been okay with doting on her, but the truth was he liked being around Gia. When she was not having any episodes she actually has the most calming energy coming from her. Clark doubted that she even recognized that she did but he enjoyed that beyond all the hurt and healing she was a very cool, level headed person. He also knew she would be able to really take flight, fly on her own once she healed. However, he was still nervous that she wouldn’t be able to heal. Worried... worried that maybe she would lose control and he couldn’t get to her in time. She was more powerful than she realized and he feared that if he couldn’t help her, she would be the next villain he had to fight. The potential that she had in her power was phenomenal and he would much rather have her as an ally rather than an enemy.

Beyond the obvious threat of her, he felt himself being drawn to her. He didn’t want to watch her suffer. This was one of the reasons he was getting up in the middle of the night to check on her. She was having a nightmare again.

He steps into her room slowly and quietly, as her head tosses to the side and her chest heaves in her tank top, she is no longer under the blanket, having tossed it to her knees. He doesn’t pull the sheets back up, afraid of her reaction if she felt constricted. Instead he sits next to her, saying her name and trying to wake her with light shaking. She gasps and bolts upright, and he barely has enough time to move his head out the away before she would have run into it. Gia looks around frantically, looking for an exit. She barely registers Clark sitting next to her.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. You are okay, You are safe.”

She looks at him tears in her eyes and bright red energy swirling on her fingertips, and fear radiating off of her. As realization sets in that she is safe she lets her head fall onto his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. This had become the habit that had formed between the two of them.

“These have got to stop.” She whispers and tries to let the scent of him relax her, though she never admits that out loud.

“Feel like sharing what this one was about?”

She huffs and pulls away from his arms. Her head falling back on the pillow she had been laying on. Clark makes himself more comfortable, sitting with his torso against the headboard in the space next to her.

“It's just more of the same. The same bullshit I’ve been dreaming about since I got here.”

“Have you tried the breathing techniques that the therapist recommended?”

“Yes. I have tried it all. It’s no use, I am broken Clark.”

“No, I don’t think you are broken. You are definitely out of sorts but not broken.”

“If you saw the sick shit in my head you wouldn’t say that.”

“I don’t need to see anything in your head to know that what I said is true Gia.”

She has turned so she is in a ball facing away from him. He can’t hear it in her voice but he can smell her tears. He brushes a hand down her arm, she shies away, he doesn’t admit out loud that it hurts his feelings slightly. It hurts him more to see how small she tries to make herself in the ball. He wanted to pull her into his lap, but he doesn’t want to violate her space. He could only imagine how much that had happened before he got to her.

“I was relishing in their screams, watching as I tortured people. I was HAPPY that they were dying by my hands.”

Clark says nothing as she begins crying again, her strained voice continues talking.

“What if they’ve turned me down the wrong path? What if I am only delaying the inevitable and I am going to be dark and evil?”

“To use your colorful language. That’s bullshit. You make the choice to be good or bad.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Your moral compass is so straight, it’s a fence.”

“Sometimes but I hate to bust your bubble, but I’ve got my demons too. Nobody, not even me is perfect. I have had those same dreams, lived with the fears that one day power consumes me and I become exactly what people feared I would be from the beginning and that is a threat to all humans.”

She finally turns to him, surprised that he would admit something like that out loud to her.

“How do you handle all of that? Knowing what you are capable of and still remain good?”

“I remember what and who I am fighting for. I remember those that love me. What would it happen if I went dark? I let them be my guide, pull me out so to speak.”

She looks up at Clark who is staring down at her.

“That’s just it Clark, I don’t have that support system like you do. What if I do get dragged into the dark? What if I lose myself and become the big bad you have to end? ”

He sighs and he can still hear her crying, his head dropping back to the headboard with a small thunk. He didn’t like thinking about that. He opens his arms and lets her make the choice like he always did, she does as she always does pulls herself upwards into the hug. Feeling evermore a small child, in a big world. He made the world smaller for her, even in her tears she now felt safe right in his arms.

“You’ve got to promise to put me down if I ever go there. Don’t let me become the monster they tried to make me.”

He just hugs her tighter and she tries to burrow down further into his chest, tears on his shirt.

“Yes you do have support. I will do everything in my power to pull you out of the darkness. I won’t ever just leave you there.”

“Scouts honor?”

She says jokingly but still sad. Clark just slightly tightens his arms and responds.

“I promise you Gia, I will be your support system, I will always pull you out of the Darkness.”

*End Flashback*

Gia/Synergy is moving her hand up and down the length of him and Clark forced himself to focus. He starts letting moments and images fly by in his head of all the good moments they shared together. He starts with her rescue and how she felt in his arms. He can tell that she is reading his mind because her hands falter as do her lips on his jaw. He continues on, thinking of how they trained together, how he feels watching her, the joy she has at mastering a new part of her talent. He focuses on the love he has for her and pushes it to the forefront of his mind. By now she jumps up, off of his lap, holding the sides of her head.

“Whatever you are doing Superman, knock it off!”

“I don’t think I will.”

He felt bad that his love for her was causing her pain, but he needed her to understand that he wasn’t giving up on her.

Gia /Synergy tosses herself into a wall, slamming harshly as her breathing turns ragged, she is in a panic because she doesn’t understand why she has all of these feelings and thoughts. Why did she have all of these memories with Superman? Her brain felt like it was being torn in two as repressed memories and feelings came up, clashing with the things she has been told. Was he lying to her? We’re these false memories?

He couldn’t be lying because the counterpart to these memories were coming up for her in her mind.

Fuck it hurts her. Her face feels wet but she can’t wipe them. Why was she crying? She feels paralyzed as memories of her mother and his mother and Lois run through her head. She felt all the hurt and pain again, just as fresh as if they had just happened. The battle rages in front of Clark and he knows he has to use the one thing that he didn’t want to but it was clear she was breaking down and all she needed to do was remember.

He thought about all of the memories he had with their son. Lingering on how she and Kalen bonded and her holding him in her arms. How he felt to see her hold their son, how he wanted their family back.

“Come on Gia, Kalen needs you back. I need you back.”

This triggers almost every moment good or bad she has had with Kalen since he was born.

Clark worries as Gia sobs painfully, but then breathes a sigh of relief when her head finally pops back up with watery red eyes.

“Clark?!”

A/N: What did y'all think? If its not obvious I included the tag because Clark, while he is clearly more than attracted to Gia here, for some this can be triggering because he is tied to a chair and if you squint because he was there against his will, her touching him is non-con...

I felt I owed a brief explanation so here you go. I hope nobody was too offended and if you were let me know privately, please don’t troll the story.

I LOVE feedback and it makes my day so thank you to everyone who shows me and my story love, because it is truly appreciated.

KEY: *Means inner-thoughts*

TAGLIST IS OPEN! Let me know if you want to be on it!

@romyr4 @bloodyinspiredfuck @thethirstyarchive @p3nny4urth0ught5 @kmcmpmd

#Clark Kent xOFC #Clark Kent #Henry Cavill #henry cavill x black ofc #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #SUPERMAN X OFC #Superman

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

Caught in a Blizzard - Part 1

Summary: Luna is going to perform at the Graham Norton show, but little did she know that Chris Evans is going to be a guest as well.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Luna Hwang (Asian OFC)

Warnings: Mentions about sex and some alcohol

Wordcount: 4.5k

A/N: if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! Also, I love to read your guys’ thoughts and feedback xx

Masterlist // Introduction // Part 2

Tonight I’m the musical guest on the Graham Norton show and I was too lazy to check who were going to be the other guests. I mean, I was severely jet lagged and a bit hungover, because they were serving some real good wine on the airplane and I might have finished an entire bottle and then some more sips from another bottle.

Normally my new agent Gia would be with me when I go to these types of things, to make sure everything is handled correctly and I’m up to date to the most important things, but since she has come down with a flu, just like her two youngest kids, she obviously stayed in New York. She told me I would be doing fine, however I wished that she was with me now, because she could’ve told me that finishing that entire bottle of wine myself wasn’t exactly a good idea (I have no self control, that’s obvious) and mentally prepare me for the other guests.

Now I have exactly five minutes to prepare myself, because I have wasted at least thirty with hyperventilating.

Because of the tough weather, Viola Davis couldn’t be here unfortunately, which is a shame, because she herself is a whole new level of awesome. But on the couch sits the queen herself Reese Witherspoon and THE handsome ass Chris Evans is there as well!

I mean, I obviously have an unhealthy crush on him, because who wouldn’t? He is handsome, he is funny and he is exactly the type of man that I’d like to drag in my bed for some mature activities. Seeing him sitting right there, makes my heart do all sorts of different things. And I realize that when I’m going to join them, I have to sit next to him. I have to sit next to the man who thought that wearing grey plaid pants and a fitted sweater would be appropriate.

Normally I would’ve known who the guests are on the shows that I perform at when I was still with my group Brave Elegance, because we had agents and a few members that actually listened to them when stuff like this was being told. I relied on them mostly, because I was making sure I could perfect my performance, by practicing the dance moves and hum out my rap. Now I’m all by myself and the first time Gia is supposed to be with me, she is sick.

And now I have to eat up the consequences of my own stupid choices.

I wish there was a guide available, that could help me out with one of the biggest problems I have ever encountered in my life: how to NOT embarrass yourself in front of the Chris Evans?

‘So, I have a question,’ Graham Norton starts. ‘Our musical guest Luna is backstage and—’ The audience erupts into a loud applause and whistles. ‘Goodness me, I wasn’t even finished yet!’

The crowd starts to laugh and from the looks of it, Reese Witherspoon and Chris Evans are amused. I take another sip of my water, because my throat feels painfully dry.

‘What I was going to ask is if you two had heard from her,’ Graham continues.

‘I do, actually,’ Reese says. ‘My daughter was a huge fan of hers back when she was in Brave Elegance. I went to three concerts of them actually.’

‘Oh, so you know quite a bit about her?’ Graham asks.

Reese nods. ‘Yes, I do. Back when she was in the band, my daughter was such a big fan of hers. Even had posters of her in her room. I do know that she is really killing the game with her solo projects.’

‘She totally is,’ Chris Evans says. ‘I downloaded her album the second it came out. I loved it.’

I think I forget how to breath. He downloaded my album? Holy crap, this isn’t helping with my nerves.

‘Really?’ Graham asks. ‘I never thought you were the type of guy that would listen to her songs, if I’m being honest.’

‘Well, my niece was a Fairy once, so I knew about the existence of them and heard some songs. But I only started to get really invested in their music during their Golden Globe performance, little did I know that that was going to be one of their last performances. A shame really, I was ready to become a Fairy.’

The Chris Evans Captain America Chris Evans was ready to become part of the fanbase? Oh shit, is this how it feels to have an out of body experience? How am I supposed to act normal after this?’

‘Really?’ Graham asks with a smile. ‘Well lucky you then that she is going to perform here.’

A woman ushers me with her and I follow her through the tiny halls. It’s nearly time for me to get on stage, but how am I going to deal with this? The sound is pretty loud, so I continue to hear what is being said.

‘She has something,’ Reese continues. ‘Like she forces you to watch her. My daughter once showed me a compilation of her on the X-Factor and I was genuinely impressed. She was only seventeen and knew exactly how to pull the audience in. Amazing.’

‘Please, everybody, please give it up for the one and only Luna!’

The audience start to clap and whistle, causing me to smile. I always love it when I hear the whistles and the screams of fans. Graham holds out his hand and I kindly take it, but all of the sudden I feel a little self-conscious about my tight red dress and my over knee boots, but I can’t change now. I must hold my breath the entire time I’m sitting my ass on that couch.

I shake hands with Reese Witherspoon, who compliments me on my outfit and tells me I’m so pretty. Why is this woman such a nice lady?

I quickly wipe my palm when I have to shake Chris Evans’ hand. When I’m with my producers or even back when I was still with the girls from Brave Elegance, I’d tell them how Chris Evans literally bite me wherever he wants, choke me during sex and that every hole I have is right there for him to use.

Now I’m standing in front of him and those things have turned into nothing but idle talk.

I somehow manage to extend my hand without shaking like an idiot an he holds mine in his large one. Oh my, those fingers… Imagine them insi— No, Luna, don’t even go there. You are in public!

‘It’s so nice to meet you, Luna,’ he says with a charming smile and me knees nearly give out. His eyes are glued on me and oh my, he is even more handsome from up close.

‘Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too.’ Okay, good, I managed to say seven words to him, in an acceptable order. Progress!

I sit on the left end of the couch, next to Chris Evans and I sure hope the microphone doesn’t pick up on my heartbeat, since I can feel it beating with a force that it actually hurts me.

‘Luna, I’m so happy that you’re here,’ Graham says.

‘Thank you for having me.’

‘Are you excited?’

I nod. ‘This is my first solo interview on television, so I’m a bit nervous, but other than that, I’m very excited. I just hope that I won’t say anything stupid.’

‘You probably won’t,’ Graham says and I don’t feel necessarily assured. ‘I have to say, Luna, you are such an interesting woman.’

‘Is that good or bad?’ I ask.

‘Well, I mean,’ he says, looking at his cards. ‘At the young age of seventeen, you participate in the X-Factor, didn’t win, but did gain four friends. Is it hard to now do your own stuff?’

I think well about this question. Our disbandment was quite messy, though the public doesn’t know about that. The reason we split up was because of the amounts of jealousy between the members and… Me actually. I miss my members every single day and I wish that they were here with me. But I have to realize, that the disbandment was all my fault and if I was just a team player back then, I would still have them around me.

‘It’s hard to be by myself, sometimes. I mean, I have dancers with me, but… It’s different. It can’t be compared to being with four amazingly talented girls with the same dream. So yeah, it’s hard, because I have to figure out how I’m going to do it alone. We were together for six years non stop, so it’s kinda weird.’

‘Your disbandment came as a huge surprise. Did you guys knew that you were going to disband soon?’

‘Well, 2018 was really a rollercoaster of a years and the after shocks of that, went with us to 2019. We were all kind of struggling with our psychical and mental health. I won’t really go into details for the rest of the girls, but I was hospitalized for two months, because I totally overworked myself. Being in a group is hard work and our record label was really putting a lot of pressure on us and after six years, it can be hard to keep up. So, our last two performances… We didn’t really say that it were the last, but deep down we all pretty much knew, you know?’

‘Right… You are the only one that is continuing in the music industry. How come?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s the only thing I’m good at and I love to do it. I love interacting with fans, being on stage. My new record label is really laid back and they continue to say that we are going at my pace, that my health is the most important and I shouldn’t overwork myself ever, so that really is comforting and I know it’s for the best.’

Graham nods and asks: ‘Did you know that Chris Evans was ready to become a Fairy?’

I shake my head. ‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Tell us, Chris, what was your favorite song and maybe Luna can sing a bit for you.’

I’m going to fucking vomit. Is this truly happening? I bet Gia is watching this right now (or tomorrow, since she is still sick) and she is going to laugh her ass off, just like all the producers and God who knows. I just know.

I carefully look to the side and see Chris Evans smirking. Seeing it in gifs is such an experience, but seeing it in real life… Goodness me.

‘I truly loved ‘You Know, He Did It Too’, especially because it showed how society is really fucked up. It takes two people, but of course only the woman in this story gets the blame, which is not fair.’

‘I’m not going to sing that,’ I say to Graham. ‘Or rap my part.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because…’ I can’t even think of a very good reason to not do it.

‘Come on,’ he coaxes me. ‘When can you say that you rapped in front of Chris Evans? Captain America!’

I sigh, knowing I can’t get out of this.

Remember Bieber, had that fever?

You tiny man, you fucked it up

You should come clean

No need to fake

Your fiancé leave you no matter what

So be a man, suck it up

Take the blame, she ain’t alone.

You little fucker, just spit it out

We do this over and over

Till we fucked up your entire career

‘Damn!’ Graham exclaims. ‘We all watched the news obviously and knew what happened, but you really didn’t hold back with the rap.’

‘Well, funny story,’ I say, ‘originally we wanted the song to be a diss track to society, for only blaming the girl. But then he released a statement, saying that he had nothing to do with it, that she was seducing him and basically that it wasn’t his fault. So that’s when I got mad and changed the entire rap.’

‘Dragging him,’ Chris Evans adds.

I chuckle, feeling all too happy that I can agree with Chris Evans on this. ‘Yeah, dragging him.’

‘I love this,’ Graham says. ‘So, you were just out of high school when you auditioned for X-Factor.’

‘Right,’ I say.

‘You wrote all your raps by yourself. Did you write songs back then?’

I nod. ‘They weren’t any good. I started with really bad poetry and that turned into cringy songs, that were trying to be deep, but it high school cringe. Thanks to the mentors on the X-Factor I was taught about flow and beat and all that good stuff. So I’m really grateful for that.’

Reese says: ‘What always surprised me, was how the raps you wrote matched the songs you girls were performing. But you did that all by yourself, with some help of the mentors?’

I nod. ‘You know, our time being on the X-Factor was hard, but it was so worth it. I feel like my song writing skills have improved over time and I do hope that the album showed my best writing skills and rap skills and sing and dance.’

‘You sure did,’ Graham says. ‘Can you tell us a little about who one of your songs is inspired on?’

I shake my head. ‘My songs aren’t necessarily inspired by anyone or any event really.’ Then I realize that I’m lying. ‘Wait, that is not true. One of my songs was sort of inspired on someone.’

‘I want the details,’ Graham says without skipping a beat, ‘and I want them now. Spill.’

‘Well, Ditch The Boys, Use Your Toys is inspired on someone I had sex with, back in the X-Factor days. We were already going to the next round as Brave Elegance. I had heard some rumors that he was pretty great in bed, causing me to think that if I ever had sex with him, it was going to be mind-blowing, so I had pretty high expectations.’

Graham nods, making it obvious he is really interested in hearing the rest of the story. I look at Reese and Chris, who have amused smiles on their faces.

‘I think we were two minutes into the foreplay, when he… You know… Can I say this on television?’

The host shrugs. ‘I have no idea and I honestly don’t care. I want to know how this story ends, though I might have an idea.’

I chuckle. ‘Well, he penetrates me and I’m like, oh, okay, he really wants to have sex with me. Obviously I was a bit flattered, but I think it took less than thirty seconds before he came already and made really loud and weird noises. And I was confused, because for starters, he came real quick, but I also didn’t understand why so many girls were raving about him. Then, this guy looks me right in the eye and has the audacity to ask me if I enjoyed it as much as he did.’ My eyes widen, while I hold out my hands, as the audience starts to laugh.

‘I really want to know what you said to that,’ Chris Evans says, who seems to enjoy my story a lot.

‘So I stared at him,’ I continue my story. ‘And I said: “Well, if we were trying to be in the Guinness book of World Records for fastest male ejaculation during sexual intercourse, sure, but I wasn’t aware that we were going for a world record”.’

Graham starts to laugh, Reese places her hands on her face to hide her visible gasp and Chris Evans places his hand on his chest while he laughs, a trait that I love with all my heart.

‘But on top of that,’ I go on, ‘he got mad and said that I was an ungrateful bitch for not being happy we had sex.’

Reese scoffs. ‘What an idiot.’

‘So anyways, it was during our X-Factor days, so I got dressed and told him I was going back to my dorm and masturbate, because I obviously couldn’t count on him for some pleasure. Fast forward to two weeks later. We’re waiting for our dance training and the teacher wasn’t there yet and this time around there weren’t camera’s to film anything. So me and some other girls were chatting about orgasms and stuff like that, as one does. Since this said guy was like a few feet away from us and had been telling the other competitors that I was a slut and ungrateful and all, I decided to take my change. I say in a pretty loud voice: “Well, if you want orgasms, you have to skip on sex with… Let’s call him Peter,’—his name was Cole Springs, but I’m not totally heartless and he is doing pretty okay in the country music industry now, so I don’t want to ruin his reputation entirely—‘you have to skip on sex with Peter, because he’ll nut inside of you within thirty seconds. You better ditch that boy and use your toy, because no orgasms for you when having sex with him. So that song was heavily based on someone.’

‘I’m so glad I asked that question,’ Graham says in a giddy voice, causing the rest of the audience and Chris Evans and Reese Witherspoon to laugh as well. ‘I admire you, Luna,’ he adds. ‘You really have the guts to sing about these topics.’

Chris Evans nods. ‘I totally agree.’

‘What is in stores for Luna?’ Graham asks. ‘What can we expect?’

I lean back in the couch. What can they expect? I never thought that far ahead. I was just thinking about promotions for this album. ‘Hopefully a world tour one day,’ I say. ‘I am still working on expanding my back up crew, but I want everyone to feel represented, you know? So, that’s totally what I’m working on and for the rest… I think just more music, more controversies, because it turns out that’s what I do best.’

‘I’m here for it,’ Graham says. ‘Is it hard to sing about certain topics like sex, masturbation and female empowerment?’

I shrug. ‘I feel like someone should do it,’ I admit. ‘I know that people—especially men—have certain opinions about it, but you know… I feel that there is someone out there, that listens songs and feels a bit empowered and that’s all I care about.’

Chris nods. ‘I admire you,’ he says, causing the audience to aww. ‘I bet it can be hard sometimes.’

Are we having a moment right now? I’m lost in his eyes for a few seconds. ‘Sometimes, yeah.’

Graham interrupts this whatever it was by asking if I’m ready to perform.

‘Oh, yeah, totally am.’

‘Please give it up for Luna, who is going to sing a mashup of Inside and Silky Ribbon!’

✘ ✘ ✘

‘You have one new message,’ the robotic voice of the woman says when I want to check my voicemail on my phone. I’m at a pretty chill bar, with a nice bartender who gave me two drinks on the house already, since he liked my album and my appearance on the Graham Norton show.

‘Luna, what the actual fuck?’ Look at that. Cole Springs decided to call me. ‘Do you honestly need to tell that fucking story on television? I already got five texts from people who either ask me if this is about me or simply know it’s about me.’

I click the voicemail away mid sentence, since I really can’t use this right now. I already feel tired and like shit, no need for Cole Springs to make things even worse. ‘Could I have one more please?’ I ask with a pout, as I push my empty glass to the bartender.

‘Sure thing,’ he says. ‘Who was that on your voicemail?’

‘Cole Springs.’

‘The boyband member gone country boy?’

I nod. ‘He wasn’t all too happy I exposed him like that.’

‘That was the Peter in the story?’ The bartender’s laugh fills up the entire bar. ‘This is amazing. He looks like the type of guy that would nut in two seconds.’

I can’t help but laugh, as I feel the vodka already making me feel a bit lightheaded. That feeling however doesn’t stop me from drinking up some more. I stare outside and see that it’s snowing pretty heavily. I’m still wearing the outfit I wore to Graham Norton, but with the thickest coat worn over it. I know that I have to get back to my hotel, but for now I’ll just stall that moment and enjoy it here.

‘How long are you going to stay in London?’ the bartender asks.

‘Dunno, man. Think I’m heading home somewhere tomorrow or the day after that. I honestly don’t know. Normally Gia, my manager would be with me, but she’s sick now.’

The door opens and some guys are yelling something, but I’m too tired to look up. I place my head on my arms, hoping that I can gain some energy to go and hail a cab.

‘Hi there, can I have…’

I look up and see that Chris Evans is standing right next to me, ordering a drink. He looks really handsome, but that is pretty easy, since he is really handsome. Everything he does is simply breathtaking. I bet he has sex every weekend with someone else. I mean, I bet there is a line waiting to have sex with Captain America and I’m somewhere in that line too. ‘Hi,’ I say and he looks up, a smile appearing on his beautiful face when he recognizes me.

‘Hi, Luna, how are you?’

‘Tired and a bit annoyed though.’

‘Oh no.’ He sits on the stool next to me and his knee bumps against mine. ‘Tell me all about it.’

I start to rant about Cole Springs, exposing to Chris as well who the story was about and during that rant, I go on about my past, about the foster care system and how that is bothering me. I rub my face, not caring that my make-up is all smudged over and the alcohol that I just drank is really kicking in now.

‘I think I just have a kink for controversy, you know,’ I say, staring at me empty glass. ‘I love being in the spotlights for everything that is not exactly how it’s supposed to go. When I got arrested at that protest, boy, I liked the attention that got.’

Chris smiles. ‘Well, I hardly think what you do is that controversial. I think you are just a bit ahead of your time.’

‘That is so deep,’ I admit, absolutely in awe by him. ‘Wow, not only are you handsome, but you are pretty much an intellectual as well. You should consider writing. Bet it would be a bestseller.’

‘I think,’ Chris laughs, pulling the drink from my hands, ‘you’ve had enough to drink.’

‘No,’ I whine, but Chris gets out of his chair. ‘I’m boring you, aren’t I?’

‘Not at all, but I think you need to get back to your hotel,’ Chris says. ‘Hearing from your stories, you have to catch a flight tomorrow and I bet you don’t want to be completely hungover then.’

‘I was already hungover this morning,’ I say, sliding off the barstool. Chris holds up my coat and helps me to put it on. ‘I could use a cigarette, you know.’

‘I bet you do.’

I wrap my arm around his broad shoulders and with my other hand, I hold his face. I place my thumb on one cheek and the rest of my fingers on his other cheek. ‘You have such a beautiful face, that you could just lick and not regret it,’ I admit. ‘Has anyone told you that?’

He starts to chuckle. ‘Not with those exact words.’

‘Well,’ I continue, ‘have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?’ I don’t give him time to answer that question, as we walk out of the bar into the cold, Chris’ arm wrapped tightly around my waist. ‘I have,’ I say, ‘especially the real dirty ones. According to those stories, you know exactly how to please a woman. I bet you are really good in bed, a whole lot better than sweet Cole Springs. I bet you can last for hours.’

‘I sure hope so,’ he laughs.

‘Tell me, do you have sex with a new woman every other week? Because I was wondering that and personally, I’m gravitating towards yes, because honestly I think you are a walking sex machine.’

Chris holds out his hand to hail a cab and says: ‘No, I don’t actually. I barely have sex nowadays.’

‘Shut up!’ I yell. ‘No, no, no, that can’t be true.’ I wiggle myself out of his embrace and crouch down on the sidewalk. My fingers touch the snow, a cold sensation that makes me shiver. ‘What happened to the world that you, Chris Captain America Evans, barely has sex nowadays. If you don’t have sex, what is the rest of the world doing? Oh my, you poor thing.’

‘It’s really not that big of a deal, Luna,’ Chris laughs. He holds out his hands and says: ‘Come on, we need to get into the cab.’

‘You hailed a cab?’ I take ahold of his warm hands and jump up. ‘That is so cool. You are so talented.’

He helps me into the cab and I want to pull him on my lap, so he can sit comfortably there, but weirdly enough, he insists on walking around the cab and sitting next to me. ‘So, can you tell me where your hotel is?’

‘I don’t remember,’ I admit. ‘I barely remember anything that happened today. I was pretty hungover when I arrived here.’ I let myself fall to the side, placing my head on his legs. ‘Mister Evans, have you been working out?’ I squeeze his tight muscles in his thighs, admiring what’s in between my fingers. ‘Damn, I bet chicks love to ride your thighs.’

He burst out in laughter. ‘How much did you have to drink?’ he asks.

‘Just a few shots,’ I admit. ‘But I don’t really handle alcohol that great, to be honest. I’m wasted like that.’ I attempt to snap my fingers, but I fail miserably. My hands look for his and when I finally have one in my hand, I admire his beautifully shaped fingers. ‘You have lovely hands. You have spanked a girl’s ass with these? Or anyone’s ass for that matter’

He starts to laugh. ‘You are unbelievable,’ he says.

‘I’ve never been spanked,’ I confess. ‘I’d love that though. You know, I sing about sex a lot, but to be honest, I haven’t had proper sex in like a year. I mean, my toys do miracles, just like my hands and all. But I just want to have hot and heavy sex.’ I look up and hold out my hand, to touch his beautiful face. His beard pricks against my skin, but I’m not complaining at all.

In the background I hear Chris say something to me, but I close my eyes and fall asleep.

Taglist: @diegos-butt

#chris evans #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x original female character #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #caught in a blizzard #chris evans x luna hwang #chris evans x singer #chris evans x luna

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years

Text

When You Least Expect It Part Ten

Jensen x Musician!Reader; Mama Mia (OFC); Dee (OFC); Briana Buckmaster

Masterlist - Contains Chapter Links & Wardrobe Collages

A/N: This is a slow burn fic that I have been working on for a while. Its a story I wrote for myself and just wanted to share with everyone. Yes, the “Dee” in the story is who you think, but there is no intended hate on her or their actual marriage. It is a work of fiction, that is all. Part ten is from the Both POV. There is also a playlist to go along with the series.

Spotify Playlist : Songs in this chapter - “How Will I Know” “Can’t Say No”

Beta’d by @closetspngirl who has contributed so much to this fic! Thank you for not only indulging my lunacy but encouraging it with gusto! I don’t know what I would do without you!!!

Chapter Summary: Jensen decides its time to put an ex in their place and while its another month closer to the festival, Y/N is starting to feel the pressure of getting everything done and calls on some reinforcements. But when a call comes in that shakes both Y/N & Jensen badly, they will have to figure how out to navigate this new threat.

Chapter Warnings: Eh - not much - a little angst, a little floof.

WC: 10.8K **with lyrics. Lyrics NOT written by me in bold, italic.

*Banner created by me; pics & gifs found online.

Tags are open if you want on, or wanna hop off.

Sleep was not her friend. For hours after Y/N received the call warning her to stay away from Jensen, she tossed and turned relentlessly. She couldn’t get the voice out of her mind… it was Dee; there was no doubt there. The only thing she questioned was if she should tell Jensen. The back and forth arguing she was doing with herself was only making sleep more elusive. As she watched the minutes tick by on the bedside clock, Y/N grew more and more frustrated.

With only two hours left until her alarm was to wake her for the airport, she got out of bed. Her suitcase had already been packed for her coast to coast trip, and for the first time since taking the job, she did not want to go. What she wanted to do, was rewind the clock to the night before and relive her date with Jensen.

It had been a fairytale evening, and for a girl that rarely believed in those kinds of stories, she felt herself longing for the prince to return with her lost slipper. Y/N was tired but yet energized with how to handle the direction everything was taking. The confrontation with Nathan, Jensen having to step in, the date, and now his ex deciding it was her turn to stir up trouble.

She had to tell him about the call, and soon. It was only fair. He came to her immediately after his conversation with Jared. Didn’t she owe him the same favor? Y/N decided she did. Not only that, but above all else, Jensen was her friend. She had to tell him that Dee had been calling… what made her sit up and take pause though, was that Dee had to know Y/N would say something. So, why make the call?

Because she’s jealous and freaked now that she saw you together, her subconscious spoke up softly. That little twist in her stomach that came with instincts kicking in churned now and she knew that had to be it. Dee was jealous and scared. The idiot lost a damn good man and when she realized the error of her ways, it was too late. While Y/N didn’t subscribe to the kind of games some women liked to play, she knew the playbook well enough. She would never stoop to that level, but one thing was for sure; this was a move that Dee would come to regret making.

Daylight finally broke and going on no sleep, Y/N got into her favorite pair of Yoga pants and Zeppelin t-shirt, threw on her black Birkenstocks and put the suitcase near the door for when the car arrived to take her to the airport. She figured Jensen would still be sleeping, but she couldn’t go another minute without doing something about the call she got the night before.

Bringing up the messaging app on her phone, Y/N went to Jensen’s messages and bit her lip as she smiled seeing the last few he’d sent her, before sending one of her own.

<<Hey. Last night was fun. Sad we can’t do it again tonight. Getting ready to go soon, but was hoping we could talk later. Call you when I land.

Y/N sighed and tucked the phone away again, feeling a little better, that she at least put that out there. She had the whole flight to Seattle to try and figure out what she wanted to say about it. At that moment, she felt childish and that she was overreacting. They were adults, after all. So what if Dee called and tried to warn her away from Jensen, it didn’t mean she had to listen. Y/N sat on one of the island stools and let her head rest on her arms folded in front of her on the granite countertop.

“I just wanna sleep,” she whined, tired from both lack of rest and overthinking.

A soft knock came at the door. She looked up curiously before double checking the clock on the stove. The car was more than an hour early; unless it wasn’t the car service…

Y/N was suddenly nervous as she slowly walked towards the door. After Nathan, and then the call, she was more than a little on edge. She stood on her toes and looked through the peephole of the front door and felt a swell of relief, then immediately exhilarated. She unlatched the deadbolt and lock on the handle and opened to see Jensen standing there.

“Hey, Trix. Heard you needed a ride to the airport,” he said, leaning nonchalantly against the door frame with one foot kicked over the other. “Thought I would give ya a lift.” He pushed off with his shoulder and stepped inside, softly closing the door behind him.

“You’re insane,” she chuckled. “Why are you not home sleeping?”

“Figured this would be the last time we saw each other for a while--”

She shook her head and gave him a rueful smile. “You just saw me like, four hours ago.”

“Five, actually. Now I probably won’t see you for a month, so, let me take you to the airport. Gives us another couple hours to hang out.”

“Geez, I dunno… I’m startin’ to think you might like me a little bit…” she teased, which provoked him into grabbing her wrist and playfully pulling her into him.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe just a little.” Jensen gazed down at her, his green eyes soft while he studied her face. “Did you sleep at all?” he asked quietly, suddenly concerned with how worn out she looked. “You look tired. If the traveling is too much, just say so. We can send someone else out to take care of all this.”

The phone call came forward in her mind. Shit, she thought, I wasn’t prepared for this so soon…

“No, it's fine. I need to go, especially to Jersey. I just didn’t sleep well,” she breathed and had the sudden urge to lay her head on his chest. She pushed past her anxiety on how he would react and did it anyway. His arms instinctively ensconced her shoulders and his chin rested on her head as he held her.

“Why not?”

Y/N could hear his heart beating in his chest, slow and rhythmic; a sound that she would come to find quite calming. She was about to tell him about the call, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. Right now, just wanted to be there, in his arms and hear his heart; not talking about exes and phone calls, again.

“Oh, you know… thinking too much,” she said, covering the truth for the time being.

“Well, at least you can snooze on the plane.”

“Exactly, no big deal,” Y/N said and looked up at him. “But I sure am glad you showed up to take me. Now I don’t have to tip the driver.”

“Oh, gonna just use me as a taxi and not even tip me? Wow. Rude. Honestly, I thought your father raised you better than that,” he said, his deadpan expression holding out, but her wide grin and peek-a-boo tongue gliding along her bottom lip finally made him crack a smile.

“I’ll tip you, Hollywood. No worries. Just not gonna be in cold hard cash,” she purred and stood up on her tiptoes to leave a long kiss on his cheek.

“Well… when you put it that way…” Jensen said and she could have sworn she saw a flush of color touch the height of his cheekbones.

“So, any chance there’s time for a coffee run before we gotta be there? Maybe even a bagel?”

“Well, coffee yes. But a bagel? No. Now you’re just being unreasonable.”

She groaned, rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “You’re gonna make me beg? For a bagel?”

“Oh, darlin’,” Jensen chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her softly, “if I wanted you to beg, it would be for a whole lot more than a bagel. But no time for that now. Come on, let’s go grab some coffee.”

Y/N just stared at him, giving him that ‘I-can’t-believe-you-just-went-there’ look. Jensen flashed her an impish smile, clearly as payback for her innuendo, then grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door.

Twenty minutes later, Y/N had a coffee and bagel in hand as Jensen directed his truck towards the airport. It was quiet, but not in their normal, comfortable sort of way. She needed to talk to him about Dee, but it didn’t feel like the time; either that or she was just procrastinating and avoiding the inevitable. He hadn’t brought up the text message she sent either, but as they drove down the freeway she could feel his eyes wander over to her.

“What?” she asked and nibbled at the bagel.

“Nothing,” he said and shrugged with his expression. “You’re just quiet. You’re never quiet.”

“Just tired,” she replied, trying to be casual and shrugged it off.

“Nah, it’s more than that. Come on, spill it. What’s up?”

Y/N kept her focus on the bagel, as she ripped off a small piece of dough and ate it. “Did you, uh… did you happen to see the text I sent you?”

“Oh, yeah. I got it just as I was getting to your place and then I forgot. What did you wanna talk about? Is, whatever it is, why you seem... not yourself?”

She nodded slightly, as a defeated sigh escaped her lips. “I kept getting these calls, on and off for a while now. Honestly, I thought they were Nathan, or maybe even my brother.”

At the mention of Nathan, Jensen’s entire body tensed up. “Nathan’s calling you?” he asked through tight, pursed lips.

“No... it wasn’t him. I thought it was for a minute though. So last night when they called--”

“Last night? When last night?”

“After you brought me home. I went to bed and the same number called. I finally answered it.”

“If it wasn’t Nathan, then who?”

She cast her eyes down on the bagel again. “I don’t have any proof other than the voice, but… I’m pretty sure it was Dee.” Y/N swallowed nervously and then hesitantly looked in his direction. “I wasn’t sure if I should tell you--”

“What did she say?” His eyes were still set straight ahead, and he was white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“I don’t remember word for word, but the gist was to stop seeing you.”

Jensen’s mouth pulled into a thin line, and she could see him biting down on his bottom lip. “I need you to try and remember, okay? Please?”

Y/N thought back to the call but didn’t want to reiterate it word for word. She tried to think of a way to make it not seem so bad, then immediately got mad at herself. Why should she protect Dee, or make this easier for her in any way? SHE was the one who not only called but broke Jensen’s heart, left him for someone else without a word. Y/N’s need to avoid further conflict fell by the wayside, and she told him everything.

“She basically said to stay away from you, and that she saw us last night at the concert. The way I act around you is disgusting and I am out of my league with you. Also, I should go back to the cesspool I came from.”

Jensen fought the urge to pull the truck over and call Dee right there. Instead, he re-adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “What else?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Nothing. She hung up after that.”

“Are you alright? I mean, after what happened with Nathan, and now this…” he trailed off, and though the anger wasn’t prominent in his expression, she could feel it coming off of him in waves.

“I’m alright. Just annoyed I guess. I blocked the number. What pisses me off is that she thinks she has the right to say who deserves to be in your life. What right does she have after what she did to you?”

That made the corner of his mouth tug into a small smile. “I guess what Jared said was true,” he sighed and finally took his eyes off the road briefly and turned his head to look at her. “I’m sorry she’s putting you in the middle of this.”

“Please, after what Nathan did? This is nothing.”

“But it’s not nothing, Y/N. I don’t care about what she did to me. I do care, however, that she’s bringing you into it just because she’s changed her mind. I’m pissed at myself for believing that she just wanted to be friends again and for letting her back in at all.”

“Sure does sound familiar,” Y/N mumbled and noticed Jensen smirk at her words. “Don’t be mad at yourself, Jay. You were just doing what you thought was best. I wasn’t even going to bring it up. I did because you were so upfront about talking to her and I don’t want to see her fuck with you, again.”

Jensen glanced over at her and smiled sweetly. Y/N saw that it wasn’t completely genuine, but she didn’t take it personally. She just hated that he would beat himself up for a while, though it wasn’t his fault.

“Listen,” he started and glanced back at her before looking back at the scant traffic before him. “I need you to know that I have zero interest in her--”

“I know that.”

“You sure? No doubt in your mind?”

Y/N wrapped the bagel and put it back in the bag before unbuckling her seat belt, and sliding across the bench seat towards him. The moment her hand touched his arm, she felt his muscles relax and heard a breath of air sigh from his lips. Taking his right hand off the steering wheel, he moved his arm so she could tuck into his side. Jensen’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and held her while he drove down the freeway.

“Zero doubt,” she sighed and for the first time since she had gotten the call, she felt calm and relaxed enough to sleep.

Jensen went with Y/N as far into the airport as he could, having to say their goodbyes before the security checkpoint. They kept it short and sweet, not wanting to draw attention for Jensen’s sake. He made her promise to call when she landed, and she made him promise not to commit a felony where Dee was concerned.

He watched her go and was struck by how much he was going to miss her. Jensen leaned back against one of the large columns and waited until she disappeared into the sea of people coming and going before finally leaving the terminal.

Once he was back in his truck, he took note of the time and decided it was now or never. He pulled out his phone and brought up Dee’s contact, and hit the call button. It took only two rings for her to pick up, and she was already wide awake and overly exuberant answering the call.

“Hi, Jensen!” she said before he could even draw in a breath. “This is such a nice surprise!”

He chuckled as pleasantly as he could. “Hi, Dee. How’s it going?”

“Good! Just getting ready to leave. I have an early call today, so, thought I’d get a jump on the day. You’re rarely up this early, what’s going on?”

“Oh nothing, just heard you were in town and thought maybe we could meet up for coffee today. Catch up a bit.” He tried to keep his voice as even-keeled as possible, but the frustration he felt towards her was slowly winning out. “If you’re free that is.”

“I could be! Especially to have coffee with you. Around one ok?”

“Yeah, perfect. Name the place.”

“There’s a cool little cafe around the corner from where we’re filming today, called Cuppa. They have this amazing Brazilian blend, you’ll love it!”

“Sound great. Meet ya there round one,” he replied, not wanting to get roped into small talk. “I gotta run, but, uh, have a good day on set and I’ll see ya then.”

“Ok! I’m so excited! So, glad you called, by--”

Jensen hung up and tossed the phone aside, his features set in a scowl. He had a few hours where he could calm down and recenter himself before seeing her. He’d promised Y/N he wouldn’t be too harsh, but there were a few things he was itching to say. Jensen had never been the kind of guy to be purposefully cruel, and it was going to take a lot of willpower on his part to stay that way. But… Y/N asked, so he had to try.

Later that afternoon, he found himself sitting in the back corner of the terrace at Cuppa. Dee was right, the Brazilian blend was great and he made a note to get some for his place. At least this wouldn’t be a total waste of time, he thought as he brought the mug to his lips.

Just as he was setting it back down, Dee appeared from inside the cafe and found him in the quiet nook of the patio. He stayed in his chair instead of standing as a gentleman should, and watched her through narrowed eyes as she nearly floated across terrace.

“Hey,” she smiled brightly, before pulling out a chair to join him. She re-adjusted her oversized-brim hat and rested her clutch on the table. “You look great! How have you been?”

“Not bad. Yourself?” Jensen asked, trying to soften the way he was looking at her, but it was a hard thing for him to control now that she was actually there in front of him. The sight of this one woman, someone he used to love and care for so much, was now making him feel anger and regret. It was an odd sensation because so much of her was the same--from the wide-brimmed hat she wore to the color of her lipstick--she was physically so familiar. But emotionally, she felt incredibly different and Jensen was struggling to understand how he had loved her the way he did.

“Oh you know, livin’ the dream,” she chuckled.

The waitress came around and took her order. Jensen told her he was fine, and she went off to retrieve Dee’s request.

“I was so surprised to get your call today! I mean, it was a great surprise, just unexpected. Figured you would be getting ready to leave for Vancouver.”

“I am, in a couple days, actually. I just heard you were in town and like I said, wanted to catch up. How’s, uh… what was his name again? Greg? Gordon?”

“Grayson. And, we broke up,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “It just wasn’t working out.”

“Ohh,” Jensen said with a frown. “That’s too bad.”

“It is,” she sighed, and looked up at him from under the brim of her hat with sad, wide eyes.

She knew just how to look at him to get the maximum response. Back when they were together, she could use this same look a million different times to get what she wanted. All she would have to do is look at him as she was then, pout her lip and he’d cave to her. Not now. Not anymore.

The waitress appeared at the table and placed Dee’s coffee before her, then asked if they needed anything else before walking away.

“Well, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you,” he said, unsure of when he wanted to segway into why he really called her here. Part of him wanted to see how long she could go on this way, batting her eyes and trying to be sweet; part of him wanted to let her know that this was never going to happen. Part of him wanted to really make her understand that he wasn’t going to put up with her drama. And if that meant he had to be firmer than he would like…

“...Jensen?” Dee said, waved her hand in front of his face. “You still with me?”

“Hmm?” he asked, snapping out of the fog of thoughts that clouded him. “Yeah, sorry, drifted for a minute. You were saying?”

“Just that… I should have known Grayson wasn’t right for me. I was so stupid…” she trailed off, pouting her bottom lip slightly and allowing her eyes to fill with regret.

Jensen nearly choked on his coffee, but recovered and placed the cup back to the table. “Well, you know everything happens for a reason, Dee.”

“It does,” she said and leaned across the table to cover his hand with hers for a tender moment before leaning back in her chair. “It really does. That’s why I was so happy you called me today. I was really hoping to see you so we could do just what we’re doing. Catch up, talk face to face. Maybe…” she trailed off again and shrugged timidly.

“Maybe, what?” he asked.

“See more of each other, I’m hoping.”

Jensen let her request hang in the space between them. He leaned his elbows on the table, and reached across for her hand, giving it a slight squeeze. He knew if he gave her enough time, she’d give him the perfect opportunity to say his peace.

“Oh, sweetheart… that’s not gonna happen,” Jensen replied in his most condescending tone and yet continued to hold her hand, but in no way that could be construed as loving or sweet. “You see, I am already seeing someone and last night, you called her. You had the nerve to tell her to back off from me. This, just two days after you were telling Gen that you wanted us to get back together.” Jensen bent his head to the side slightly and smiled, but there was no humor behind it.

Dee’s expression fell as she slowly pulled her hand out of his. The radiant smile she had been wearing broke into pieces as Jensen’s quiet admonishing continued.

“You had the balls, to call Y/N, tell her to stay away, that she was out of her league. Then--”

“I know what I said,” Dee bit back, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Did you think she wouldn’t tell me?”

Dee shrugged again and averted her eyes. “I was pissed, okay? I saw you two at the Jazzfest and it pissed me off. I was drinking and I made a phone call. Sue me.”

“You know, I may have bought that, but it wasn’t the first call though, was it? You’ve been calling Y/N, on and off, for weeks. This is just the first time she picked up.”

Dee didn’t respond, she just sat and stewed, feeling her anger grow each time she heard Jensen say Y/N’s name.

“Oh, but how she spoke to me on New Year’s, that was okay?”

“That whole night is a little fuzzy for me still, but from what I do remember, she tried to be civil.”

“Oh, well, good for her,” Dee scoffed and drank her coffee, if for no other reason then to have something to do besides getting chastised by him.

“What I don’t get is, why? What the hell do you gain from this? Why would you tell Gen--”

“How do you even know about that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Dee. What matters is your delusional enough to think any of this would work. We’re done. You left. Eventually, I got over it.”

Dee leaned into the conversation and lowered her voice, biting back at him. “YOU were supposed to propose. You had the ring! But then, what? Chickened out? I did what I did because I thought it would help you along to finally make it official. It was supposed to be you and me forever! But no, you had to go and meet someone else!”

Jensen sat up straighter, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. “What the HELL are you talking about? Who said I had a ring?!”

“A friend of mine saw you in the jewelry store. She said you left with a ring box,” Dee replied smugly. “If you had just proposed… none of this would have happened. We wouldn’t have missed out on a year together,” she hissed and sat back in her chair again.

“Wait a fucking minute…” Jensen paused to collect himself, afraid if he didn’t that the other patrons would get quite a show. “... are you telling me you left me for that guy, solely to provoke me into proposing? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know what that did to me? You leaving, without a fucking word?” With each thought, his temper was rising along with the volume of his words. “Do you care what that did? NO! ‘Cause why would you?!”

“Jensen… I…” she stammered, taken back by the height of his anger.

“Yeah, go ahead, I dare you to try and justify anything. Just for the record, I did have a ring. I bought one two months before you left. I never gave it to you because I wasn’t sure if you were the right one. Something in my gut told me to wait… best fucking decision I ever made. Wanna know why? Because you leaving me, led me to a woman that doesn’t play games. She doesn’t fuck with people’s feeling for sport. She’s good and genuine, and kind. I’ll be damned if I will let you fuck with her, too!”

Jensen stood from the table and reached for his wallet to leave money for the coffee. He stopped and put it back in his back pocket. “You know what, buy your own damn coffee.” He started to walk away but hesitated and turned back, leaning down so his lips were only a few inches from her ear.

“If I find out that you came within ten feet of Y/N, or that you tried to contact her again in any way--or me for that matter--I promise that you will be sorry that you ever met me. Got it?”

Dee straightened her back and turned to face him. Their eyes were locked, and Jensen’s lips snarled into a warning smile when he saw the utter indigence on her face. “Don’t push me, Dee. You won’t like how I react.”

“I hear you loud and clear,” she replied flatly. When he turned to walk away, she didn’t bother looking over her shoulder. She knew he would leave without looking back.

Dee waited at the table for a few minutes, casually drinking her coffee, rattled by the conversation that just took place. She did her best to collect herself before reaching into her clutch and pulling out her phone. She searched her contacts, found who she was looking for and hit call. Two rings, and he answered.

“Hey, it’s Dee. I need you to do some digging for me,” she paused and waited for him to reply. “Yes, the name is Y/F/N L/N, all I know is she’s from Seaside, New Jersey. Call me back with what you find out.”

Dee ended the call, drained the rest of the coffee from her cup and rose from the table just as the waitress returned. As she left Cuppa’s garden terrace and made her way back to the set, all the kinds of ideas were starting to come to mind. Some she thought were doable, others may be taking it too far. All she knew then, is that she wasn’t completely done with Y/N yet.

A month of travel, twelve-hour work days and unending conference calls had left Y/N tired, cranky and ready for a vacation. The work that was starting to pile up was overwhelming, and while she had a supportive team of people around her, it was still adding up to be more then she could handle.

In a momentary breakdown, she called on two of the people she knew she could count on, that wasn’t currently filming in Vancouver. Jensen’s schedule had been impossible to try and get around, and she refused to spend the time she did have on the phone with him complaining about how much work there was. Thankfully, Briana and Mama both answered her distress call and after a little bit of rearranging, were due to arrive in Austin the next day. They both insisted on getting themselves to the townhouse, so Y/N wasn’t running back and forth from the airport. For once, she didn’t try to fight them on it.

Y/N wasn’t exactly surprised that they became fast friends, as they were similar in so many ways. Watching them interact was the kind of entertainment that Y/N didn’t realize she needed at that moment. The first night the three of them spent in the townhouse, working, laughing, eating and drinking, was the best help Y/N could have received; both for relieving the stress of work, and the emotional support provided.

The hours ticked by and when the first bottle of wine had been finished, Y/N went down to the kitchen to grab the second bottle. As she was rifling through the drawer for the corkscrew, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She fished it out and saw Jensen’s name on the screen.

“Hey there stranger,” she greeted, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder while continuing to search for the gadget. “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad, how’s things back home?”

“Oh you know, a hot mess. But at least Bri and Mama are here to wallow in it with me.”

“Bri and Mama are in the same room and I’m missing it? That seems wildly unfair,” Jensen groaned.

“You have no idea. Rehearsals tomorrow should be a hoot,” she chuckled and finally found what she was looking for. “You guys done for the day?”

“Nah, just taking a dinner break. I wanted to tell you there was a slight change of plans.”

She froze mid uncorking and sighed. “Oh no… what?”

“Nothing bad,” he laughed. “Jared’s party… not August. They had to shuffle some things around so it's weekend after next.”

“Wait… that means you’ll be back before Comic-Con, then?” Y/N felt a burst of excitement flood her chest. “Really?”

Jensen laughed softly. “Yeah, really. In fact, I should be back by early next week. So, maybe we plan that second date. Whatcha say?”

Y/N bit down on her lower lip and inhaled deeply, trying to be suave and cool when really she wanted to flail and scream with all the pent up giddiness he stirred in her.

“Well, I haven’t found my grass skirt yet, but I am sure I can make that work.”

“Atta girl, Trix. So now, what’s this about rehearsals tomorrow?” he asked in a low, playful voice. “What kind of rehearsals are we talking about? Seems a little early for rehearsals, no?”

“Well, with Mama here, we’re going to head over to the Rollins Studio Theater tomorrow night, and run through a few things. She can see the layout of the stage, meet the musicians and stuff like that. Bri is going to stand in for one of the other girls and we have a couple local dancers coming from the troupe I found here.”

“Are you singing?”

“In the routine, yeah, I am. Mama’s condition to bring the troupe out was that I do a number with them. She’s dyyyying to direct me for a change, so this should be a whole lotta fun. I’m sure she’ll want me to do something tomorrow, but I am going to try and talk her out of it.”

“Yeah, you know that won’t happen. And, what’s worse is, I’m missing it. Have I said that this is incredibly unfair?”

“Once or twice…” she giggled. “Hey… Jay?”

“Yeah?”

A loud burst of laughter came from above, followed by two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. Y/N sighed softly and knew that she’d have to cut the call short.

“I’m really glad you’re coming back early. I miss you,” she mumbled the last bit, wanting desperately to tell him how much, but just glad she was able to say it at all. Despite how well their date went, not seeing him for nearly a month was making some old anxieties settle in.

“I miss you too. Promise, you’ll see me soon.”

“Gonna give me that boy scout salute bullshit again?” she laughed.

“Nah. I’ve moved on to pinky promises,” he teased.

Mama and Bri appeared in the kitchen and stopped when they saw Y/N on the phone. Both with their brows raised in curiosity, then whispering to each other followed by hushed giggles.

“Well, I have an audience now, so I’ll let you go. Talk soon?”

“Absolutely. I’ll call you tomorrow, and you can tell me all about your pajama party. Night, Trix.”

“Night, Jay.”

Y/N ended the call and slowly put it back in her pocket before meeting their inquisitive gaze.

“Well?!” Bri whined.

“Well, what?” Y/N laughed nervously and went back to opening the wine.

“Oh no, you are not gonna play coy with us, girlie. Pour the damn wine and then spill your damn guts. Miss Bri and I were just talkin’ upstairs and agreed it’s been way too long since you gave either of us an update.”

“Life’s been a smidge busy,” she said just as the cork finally popped.

“I couldn’t care less how busy you’ve been. Last we sat and talked about Mr. Dreamy was way back in January, and you made me a promise. Did you fulfill it?”

“What promise?” Bri asked, looking excitedly between Y/N and Mama.

Mama raised her thick brows inquisitively. “Well, you gonna tell the girl or am I?”

“Fine. Mama made me promise to come back here and tell Jensen that I was interested,” she replied quickly, hoping for no follow-ups, but knew she would be disappointed.

“Annnd…” Mama prodded. “There was something else in that promise.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “And kiss him.”

“Ohhhh…” Bri giggled and excitedly clapped her hands. “Well, Mama, I am happy to report that she kept her promise. Saw it with my own two eyes!”

“Oh Lordy, thank ya, Jesus!” Mama raised her hands to the sky and bowed her head. “And.... now, tell me all about it.”

“Mama…”

“No, now you listen. That boy is downright delicious. You can’t tell me that you kissed him and not give details,” Mama said, crossed her arms over her ample bosom and turned to Briana for support.

“Boy is he…” Bri mused and then cleared her throat. “And Mama’s right… I mean I saw that sweet little kiss at the bar, but I know you two went out to Jazzfest and I’m not real happy I didn’t get an immediate phone call when you got home.”

Y/N flashed to the call and subsequent brief drama with Dee. Deciding to leave that out, for the time being, she apologized. “I’m sorry. It was late and I had to leave early the next day.”

“Please tell me you invited him in…” Mama pleaded but could see by Y/N’s expression it was her turn to be disappointed.

“Are we going back upstairs? Cause I could really use some of this wine now,” Y/N said and exhaled deeply.

When neither Bri nor Mama turned for the stairs, Y/N grabbed three fresh wine glasses from the cabinet and filled them halfway. She drank two big gulps of hers and could feel both sets of eyes on her as she did.

“No,” she managed to squeak out after finishing most of the wine. “He didn’t spend the night.”

“Jesus wept,” Mama moaned and pulled out one of the island stools. “What in heaven’s name were you thinkin’?”

Y/N was quiet. She didn’t know how to answer, exactly. When she didn’t respond at all, Mama kept going.

“Suga, you gotta stop being so scared and let the man in. I’m glad you two are finally gettin’ on the right path, but you gotta be bold. Take the initiative. Ask the man to spend the--”

“June!” Y/N barked suddenly, catching Mama off guard.

“Using my Christian name… that’s my sign to shut up…” Mama explained to Briana in a hushed tone.

“I’m sorry, Mama, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that I know… okay? You don’t think I want to sleep with him? Ask him to spend the night? Of course, I do! I like him, a lot. I want that to happen… but…”

“But what, honey?” Bri asked, and lovingly laid a hand on top of Y/N’s.

“I’m scared.” Y/N felt her entire body fill with relief at the admission. Scared didn’t begin to cover it really. There was a whole host of emotions that began to flow at the thought of being more intimate with Jensen. That kind of vulnerability seemed like pressure she wasn’t completely ready for.

“After what you’ve been through, I can understand that completely,” Mama said. “But you use fear as a cloak to shield yourself. You can’t do that forever.”

“No, but I can take it off slowly.”

“Touché. But… allow me to play devil’s advocate… this man likes you, clearly. You want him just as much. What’s it gonna take for you to trust him enough, to let this guard of yours down?”

“It's down, trust me. I’m just not ready to bare everything, okay? I know we have this crazy chemistry, I feel it every damn time the man looks at me. But, what if we sleep together and he’s disappointed. Being with someone like him…” Y/N snorted a laugh and refilled her glass, promptly taking a large gulp. “His ex… I hate the woman but damn, she’s… she’s gorgeous and worldly, and... I can’t live up to that.”

“Honey…” Bri started and stopped when Y/N’s expression pleaded with her to do so. She held her hands up in relent but continued with another thought. “Trust me when I tell you, Jensen is the most regular guy you’ll ever know. He’s just some down-home boy, who likes to play music, make people laugh, cleans up real nice and just wants to love all over you. He’s not anything like what most people perceive him to be.”

“I know that,” Y/N replied quietly, keeping her eyes glued to her glass while her fingers toyed with the stem.

“Ok. So then, what is it really?” Bri asked, trying to encourage her to open up and talk through whatever it was she needed to. “Because let me tell you, I don’t care who he was within the past, he’s only got eyes for you right now.”

Y/N looked up and met their gazes. She felt the sting of emotion at the corner of her eyes and furrowed her brow trying to decide if she could actually say the words that came forth in response to Briana’s question.

“Because, if we sleep together, that’s it, I’ll be gone. I’ll fall in love with him and then everything will fall apart.” A stray tear or two fell, but she was able to keep her emotions in check.

Bri put an arm around her and rested her head on her shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

“Maybe not, but that’s what I’m afraid of. And for as far as Jensen and I have come, as much as I care about him and trust him; part of me is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Y/N, you listen to Mama now, okay?” Mama said, leaning across the counter and squeezing her hand. “No matter what comes at you, you can handle it. And if the other shoe does drop, well then, you let it go, put on your best stilettos and keep on fucking walking.”

“I just don’t know if I’m that brave, Mama. Look, I love you both for being so supportive, but honestly, I just want to get the work done and get some sleep. Talking about all this right now just feels overwhelming and tomorrow is going to be a long ass day.”

Mama and Bri exchanged a look of empathy for their friend when Y/N cast her eyes down to her fingers that were still fidgeting with the stem of the glass.

“Alright, Y/N. That’s alright by us. Come on, let’s get the bottle, another round of snacks and finalize these last minute changes, ok?” Bri hugged her a little tighter and got Y/N to smile.

“Yes, that I can do,” she said and swiped at the last tear that fell to her cheek. “That I can definitely do.”

The next day was more running around including meeting with the equipment rental representatives, dropping off some new plans to the city planner’s office, as well as swinging by the seamstress’ shop to pick up the dress Mama insisted Y/N wear when she performs with The Corsettes. Once the trio had completed all the tasks and had a quick lunch at Salty Sow, Y/N brought them over to the Rollins Theater and introduced them both to the local Burlesque troupe that agreed to join them on stage.

Mama was in her glory putting them on stage and talking with the musicians that came to sit in to play for the rehearsal. While she was putting her magic into action, Y/N brought the dress and accessories back to the dressing rooms, with Bri following close behind her.

“How ya feeling today, honey? Any better?”

“As far as…?”

“Just overall stress. I know you’re feeling the pinch of things, so if you need to delegate anymore work, I’m here for it. I cleared everything, booked myself a luxurious room and I’m staying in town til after Jared’s party. So use and abuse me, okay?”

Y/N chuckled and hung the dress up on the back of the door. “You’re amazing and I’d be lost without you,” Y/N smiled and hugged her friend. “I promise I will delegate. But I feel okay at the moment. I guess I’m just tired… it’s been a long few weeks.”

“Weeks? Try months, but yeah, it has been especially for you. You are kicking some serious ass with all this. You know that, right?”

Y/N shrugged. “I guess. I mean everything is on schedule, I think. Event planning isn’t exactly my forte, and I tried explaining that to Jensen when we first met, but…. you know him.”

“I do. Get an idea in that man’s head and it’s impossible to deter him.”

“Exactly. Stubborn as a mule, that one.”

They both had a good laugh at that, as Bri walked over to unzip the garment bag. “Holy mother of shit!” she exclaimed as she carefully removed it from the bag. “This is what you’re wearing?!”

Y/N nodded. “Mama insisted.”

“Well? Let’s see it on ya!” Bri said, more than a little giddy as she removed it from the hanger. “Here, you get dressed, I’ll go see if she’s ready for you.”

“Nooo, no. This is for dress rehearsals. Tonight is just the start of her putting a routine together now that she’s seen the stage. I just brought it in--”

“To try on and walk your cute little ass out on the stage. I will accept no other answer,” Bri interjected. “Now, please,” she sang cheerily but with that tone of ‘you best just do it’.

“And they call me bossy,” Y/N mumbled, then winked at Bri when she gave her that chastising raise of her brow.

“Five minutes, or I come and find you…” Bri warned as she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

“Yes ma’am,” Y/N chuckled and waited until she was gone to let her smile fade away.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and took a few deep breaths. The last couple of weeks had felt overwhelmingly hard, and she wasn’t sure why. Yes, there was a lot to do, and yes, she was doing most of it on her own now that more than half her team was working in Vancouver; but it was more than just that.

It was everything; Nathan showing up, Dee’s interference, Jensen’s… presence. She found it hard to focus on everything she needed to when really all she wanted to do was just take off with him to somewhere quiet and deserted; where it could just be the two of them and they could finally have peace and time to explore what it could be like being together.

Peace and time brings peace of mind, her mind sang out unprompted. It was her father’s mantra, especially when he was a few beers in and wallowing in his despair. He would repeat it to himself over and over when he was trying to ‘right the ship’, as he would say.

“Dad, help me out here,” Y/N whispered to the empty room. “I just need some kind of sign that this is right, that all of this… is where I’m supposed to be. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, daddy, and I’m scared. I don’t just mean the work, I’m talking about Jensen, too. Please…” she pleaded, closing her eyes and swallowing hard. “Just the smallest hint of a sign…”

The room was silent, not that she expected anything different but she wished for it harder than she’d ever wished for anything before. A few minutes went by before she was finally able to pull herself up and change into the dress. She decided to forgo the accessories, for now, hoping that both Mama and Bri would be appeased by at least seeing the dress on her.

As she made her way onto the stage, she exhaled slowly and adjusted the bodice of the dress. She was surprised by everything that had been done already and felt a little bit of relief knowing that so much was being handled without her having to oversee it all. The musicians were getting set, Mama and the dancers were huddled in a loose circle and getting to know each other, while Briana was sitting at the piano that was on stage left.

“Well damn, girl,” Bri said and whistled as she swung her legs to the other side of the piano bench. “You look amazing!”

“Thanks,” Y/N smiled. “Not the complete ensemble, but if you think my feet are getting in those boots tonight, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“Just the dress is fine. Gonna be a few though till they’re ready to anything that we could help with,” Bri stood from the bench and motioned for Y/N to sit. “Why don’t you play something. See how the acoustics sound in here.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” she agreed and adjusted the dress so she could sit easier. “What should I play? You gonna sing for me?”

“No, not tonight. I’ll go up in the back row, see how it sounds. You sing whatever you feel, honey.” Bri gave her a wink, and it did not go unnoticed by Y/N that she turned and gave Mama a knowing glance, too.

Y/N felt like they were sharing some kind of secret, but pushed it aside for the time being. Y/N didn’t know what to play, really. She hovered her hands over the ivory keys and waited until she saw Bri pick a seat in the back of the theater and sit down.

Since they had become friends over the past six months, Y/N made it her mission to hear every song Briana had recorded and fell in love with each and every one. Something moved her to pick one of those songs, and her hands found the proper starting keys.

Y/N played the melody from Bri’s cover of “How Will I Know?”; maybe it was all the talk of being with Jensen, or maybe, a residual question left over from the earlier prayer she sent up to her father. Either way, that was the song that first came to mind, so that’s what she played.

When the first few notes from the piano filled the theater, then followed by the soft tone of her voice, everyone on the stage stopped what they were doing and turned to watch her play. She didn’t need the mic turned on that sat on top of the piano, her voice carried through to the back of the quiet theater easily.

“Oh, it's you, I know… You’re the one I dream of Looks into, my eyes, take me to the clouds above How I lose control, can’t seem to get enough When I wake, from dreaming, tell me is it really love…”

A couple of the musicians on the other end of the stage picked up the beat on drums and percussion, falling easily into the soft, rhythmic tempo of the piano. They kept the instrumentals mellow, while still adding more depth to her already rich tone.

Y/N closed her eyes and started getting lost in what she was singing. Her mind completely forgot about the people around her, as she sang the lines of the song more to herself than anyone else in the room.

“How will I know, if you really love me? I say a prayer with every heartbeat I fall in love whenever we meet I’m asking you, what you know about these things?”

“How will I know, if you’re thinking of me? I try to phone, but I’m too shy, can’t speak Falling in love, is so bittersweet This love is strong, why do I feel weak...”

She transitioned into the second verse, thinking about Jensen and all that has been happening around them, to them… and when the chorus came around again, she could feel herself sing the words with a break in her voice. Y/N was using the music to speak and expel the overall feeling of desperation to understand how she would know that everything would ultimately be okay with Jensen. That she could take that step and let him in completely without losing herself in the process.

Falling in love, is so bittersweet This love is strong, why do I feel weak...”

The last note fell from her lips, and with it, the weight of her question. Her fingers landed on the last two keys, and the moment the reverberation from them stopped, the small audience on the stage, and the one out in the theater applauded. The sound of it pulled Y/N out of her mental space and back to reality, where she finally noticed how many people had been watching her sing. She felt a rush of embarrassment flood her face, her cheeks burning hot with knowing there were at least twenty people scattered around the theater just saw her perform so raw.

Jensen watched from the vestibule of the theater.

The moment that he had hung up with her yesterday, he knew he needed to come home. He hadn’t planned on coming back until the morning of Jared’s party, but there was something he heard in her voice that went beyond her being tired or overwhelmed. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but something in his gut was telling him he needed to come back. Not just to help with her workload, or even to bear witness to Briana and Mama Mia meeting for the first time. Though, if he was being honest with himself, it was the cherry on the sundae.

He sped from the airport to reach the Rollins Theater before Bri said they were due to arrive, but of course, traffic got in his way. Once he finally got there, he quietly came in through the main doors, and that’s when he heard her voice. From the first note that touched his ears, he felt like he had the wind knocked out of him. There was something about the sound of her singing that always made him feel that way.

Jensen peeked in the one theater door that was propped open and saw her there at the piano. Everyone else that was on the stage had been frozen in place as she sang; just as he was there by the door.

“Hey!” Bri said in a rough whisper from his right side. When he turned, he saw her there mid-row, watching Y/N sing up on the stage. “You made it! Come sit!” She patted the seat beside her and Jensen made his way down the row of seats to meet her.

He bent down, kissed her cheek in greeting and sat on the plush red theater chair. “Did she find out I was coming?” he asked nervously.

“Nope, doesn’t suspect a thing. Thought you were gonna be here earlier.”

“Traffic,” he grumbled but didn’t remove his eyes from the stage. “What is she wearing?” His eyes widened with excitement when he realized she was in costume. He thought back to that first night when he went to the rehearsal at the Bamboo and how quickly smitten he had become with her. Now… he was far beyond smitten.

“Mama apparently is making her wear it for whatever routine she puts together. I saw it and made her put it on.” Bri giggled and lightly elbowed him in the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Jensen laughed softly and gave her a nod of appreciation, but didn't want to respond. He just wanted to listen to Y/N sing and get lost in the sound of her voice. The way each lyric projected from her lips, and the way her fingers brushed against the ivory, it was as if she were painting with sound. Her talent filled him with an enormous rush of feeling and as the song carried through the auditorium effortlessly, each word felt like magic to his ears. She was soulful and raw, and he found himself falling more and more in love with her.

That realization hit with a force that physically knocked him back; something that did not go unnoticed by Briana.

“You alright there, buddy?” she chuckled quietly. “You’re looking a little green. Jet lag got ya down?”

“N-No, it’s… “ his thoughts broke off and he went quiet.

Bri studied his face for a minute, and when she came to understand his wistful, yet petrified expression, she sat back and smiled wide enough to bring out her cavernous dimples.

“Well, ho-ly shit. Jensen Ackles… you look me in the eyes and tell me… do you love this girl?”

His attention snapped back to Bri, surprised at how easily she could read him. “What? No. Huh?” he scrunched his face and shook his head, stuttering any response that tried to leave his mouth. When he turned back to the stage, and once again heard her voice, he knew he couldn’t even pretend to hide it anymore. This time, when Jensen turned back to Bri, he simply nodded.

Briana’s larger than life smile faded into something softer, and she put her arm around his shoulder. “You gonna tell her?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly. “Not yet. I need time to sit with it. Make sure its… real.”

Just then, Y/N finished the song. The last couple notes reverberated off the plush walls of the theater prompting the people on stage to applaud. Bri stood and did the same enthusiastically before she shuffled behind the seats and down the aisle. Jensen stood from his seat and slowly made his way out of the row and down the aisle towards the stage.

He watched as the recognition of his presence hit her. For him it felt like slow motion; from seeing her smile as their eyes locked, to her moving in his direction, he watched her and the flutter of excitement came alive in his stomach. Jensen didn’t realize how much he needed to see her. After a month of just phone calls and FaceTime, the idea that he could touch her again was bordering on overwhelming. He wanted to grab her and kiss her, sweep her up off her feet; but given their audience, kept his need to touch her in check

“What are you doing here?!” she asked, through a wide, cheeky grin. “You’re supposed to be in Vancouver!”

“Guy can’t change his plans--” he was interrupted by Y/N throwing her arms up around his neck and embracing him tightly.

Time seemed to stop for a second. Jensen hugged her back with all he had and relished in the scent of her hair, the softness of her skin, and how easily she fit into his arms like that last, perfect piece of the puzzle. He could feel her body relax into his and felt like he could close his eyes and stand there just holding her forever.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered before loosening her grip on him and pulling back just enough to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“I am too,” he rasped so only she could hear, before taking her by the hand and taking a step back to take in the costume she was wearing. “Boy am I glad I came home,” he said. “I would have been very upset to miss this…. Look at this dress!” He whistled with approval.

“Tell me she doesn’t look like an absolute treat in that!” Mama bellowed from the stage.

“Damn straight she does,” he said and winked at Y/N, then turned his attention to the tall, voluptuous, older woman on the stage. “Well, well, now there’s the woman I’ve been waiting to see!” Jensen called up to her. “Be right back,” he whispered to Y/N before heading up to see her.

Mama left a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek and hugged him so tight Jensen thought his back might crack. “It’s so good to see you, Mama,” he said when she finally let him go. “Glad you’re in town. Hope Y/N took you around to see the sights.”

“She’s workin’ on it for sure. Quite the city you got yourself. I can see why Y/N fell in love with it,” Mama said and glanced at Y/N with a soulful smirk. “In fact, I was planning on meeting up with some friends of mine that live in the area and taking in some sites tomorrow. So you’re timing is impeccable!” Mama pinched his cheek playfully.

“I’m doubly glad I made it time then,” Jensen chuckled. “So what are you thinking of doing here? Gonna get this one back up on stage?” He motioned his head towards Y/N who had rejoined them on the stage.

“Oh, darlin’, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t blackmail her into singin’ at least one song tonight. I got the number down, but just need to teach this talented lot the moves.” Mama shimmied her hips, causing a roar of hoots and hollers from the small gathering of dancers behind her. “Whatcha say you go grab a seat and I’ll get this group ready to go!”

“Sounds damn good to me!” he said with a wide grin.

Mama turned back to the band. “Y’all said you know ‘Can’t Say No’ so let’s roll with that one!”

Jensen went to walk off stage, leaving the matronly diva to do her thing and paused to where Y/N was standing near the piano. He took her hand and gave it a tender squeeze, before pulling her closer to leave a kiss on the top of her head. “Break a leg,” he whispered.

The way she smiled at him then--her lips pursed together, one corner of her mouth tugging up into a smirk--made him feel physically weak in the knees. Jensen felt like there was something different in the way her eyes danced when she looked at him; he couldn’t help but wonder if she was coming to some of her own realizations, too.

For now, he tried to let it go and remember that they weren’t alone and that he needed to sit with the feeling for a while. A moment later, he was sitting in the front row and watching Mama put everyone in their places. She sent Y/N off stage left and another woman off stage right. The band was warming up, various instruments playing various notes and Jensen wondered how any of them could truly concentrate on what they were doing. Finally, they found their pitch and quieted, before Mama counted the band off to start the number.

The music began, and the minute Y/N stepped on the stage to start singing, Jensen’s phone began to ring. He quickly reached into his pocket to silence it, regardless of who was calling, so he wouldn’t disturb the rehearsal. But across the screen flashed SAFEGATE, the security company who installed the alarm at the townhouse. He got up, answered the call, and swiftly walked up the aisle towards the vestibule of the theater.

“Hello?” he answered when he was clear of the auditorium.

“Hello, Mr. Ackles?”

“Yeah, this is he. What’s going on?”

“We’re calling to let you know that the alarm has been triggered at the property located at 87 North Piedmont Point. We’ve notified the local authorities and they are currently en route.”

“Oh, shit. Ok. Thank you, I’m on my way.”

Jensen’s body tensed, and he felt his gut lurch. ‘It’s a false alarm,’ he kept telling himself. ‘No big deal, it’s just a false alarm…’ He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, trying to calm whatever was prompting the feeling of dread that was washing over his current mantra.

From behind him, the theater door creaked open, and he realized the music from the stage had stopped.

“Hey,” Y/N said, stepping into the vestibule. From inside the theater, the music started up again. “What’s going on? I saw you run out. Is everything okay?”

“Uh, I don’t know. That was the security company. Apparently, the alarm was triggered at the townhouse. I’m going to head over there now. I’ll call you--”

“The fuck you will. That’s my home, Jensen. I’m going with you.”

“Y/N--”

“No. Wait here, two minutes. Let me change and tell the girls. I’m coming, and I swear if you leave without me…” she drew in a deep breath and was ready to give him what for, but he held his hands up in relent.

“Go change. I’ll be right here, waiting.”

Within ten minutes, Y/N and Jensen were in his truck and headed towards her home. Neither of them talked, both nervous about what they were going to find at the house. As Jensen pulled into the development, and circled around towards home, flashing blue and red lights could be seen reflecting off of windows and trees. The driveway and curb were blocked by several police cars, forcing Jensen to pull over and park a few houses down. Once out of the truck, Y/N took his hand and squeezed it tight as they nearly jogged down the sidewalk towards the activity.

By the time they reached the front lawn, they could see the front door was open, and cops were walking in and out. Jensen could feel Y/N’s nerves grow, and when one of the officers began to approach them, she tightened the grip she had on his hand.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, this is a crime scene,” the officer said, holding his hand up to stop them.

“This is my home,” she breathed, clearly panicked. “What happened? What triggered the alarm?”

“It appears someone broke in, ma’am. If you could just wait here--”

“Are they still in there? Did you catch who did it?” Jensen interrupted angrily.

“And you are?” the officer asked indignantly.

“He’s with me,” Y/N bit back defensively. “Can I please go inside? How bad is it?”

“Alright, if you could both just calm down for a minute,” he said. “To answer your question, sir, no, whoever broke in is long gone. Let me just check with the detective to make sure it’s clear for you to enter and you can go in to grab a few necessities. No way you’re going to want to stay here tonight.”

Jensen’s stomach bottomed out, and by how pale Y/N seemed, he thought hers did too. Jensen released her hand and embraced her as the officer turned and sought out the lead detective. He held her to his chest, and she put her arms around his waist.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be--”

“You can go on in,” the officer called from several feet away. “I’ll bring ya through so you can get what you need.”

Jensen felt her swallow hard and then peel herself off his chest. He sighed, and took her hand again, leading her towards the front door. The minute they walked, he heard her gasp. The mess in the kitchen alone was staggering. Walking slowly through the first floor, Jensen found himself in the living room, standing behind Y/N with his hands on her shoulders as they surveyed the damage. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to push down all the anger and rage he felt at whoever had the nerve to do this.

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#Jensen Ackles RPF #Jensen Ackles x Reader Insert #Jensen Ackles x you #Jensen Ackles x reader #Jensen ackles fanfics #spn rpf

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hnrywinchester · 5 years

Text

Fare Thee Well - - 14

Summary: She hasn’t sene Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, Character Deaths, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 4.6k

“Gabe…. Gabriel.. Fuck,” Liv panted as she writhed on the mattress, two handfuls of honey blonde hair tightly wound between her fingers, “I can’t…” “You can,” he urged, his mouth relenting from her overstimulated core just long enough to get the words out before his tongue returned to it’s task, “stop resisting, and let it happen.” An exasperated groan broke free from her lips. The pressure was too much, but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t relent. Maybe she didn’t want it to end, or maybe it was because this felt different than all the other times. It almost felt too good. It was the kind of good that she feared would never be replicated, so she had to prolong it as long as she could. She also knew this wasn’t even the worst he could do. He was taking it easy on her, so why this was so mind-blowing was a mystery. Plus, it wasn’t like this exact scenario hadn’t taken place just two weeks prior. It had to be the slight hangover, or maybe the fact that they’d hadn’t really relented with each other for the past twenty four hours. She wasn’t about to tell him to stop though… Finally, she felt relief impending. That bubble in her stomach began to inflate into her chest, her fingers and toes tightening as she yanked his head to exactly where she needed it. As she cried out a string of profanities littered with his name, she felt him hum in appreciation against her, adding just enough to send one more aftershock vibrating through her. “You don’t play fair,” she panted as his lips finally released her and began kissing a trail up her stomach. “Never claimed to,” he teased, “plus, you started it. Waking me up with that sinful, oh-so-talented mouth. It actually is only fair I return the favor. So…” “Shut up.” “I don’t know what you were expecting. When have I ever left you high and dry? Well, when I’m in my right mind anyway…” “It was supposed to be just for you!” “I don’t do ‘just for me’, sweetheart. You know this. Why are you complaining, by the way? I’d ask if it was good but I already felt the answer.” “I’m not complaining…” The little pout that settled on her lips was one of the most endearing things he’d ever seen. Her flushed face and still half sleep-lidded eyes was definitely the sight he wanted to wake up to for the rest of eternity. He flopped down onto his stomach beside her, arms burying under the pillow as he laid his head down onto it, face towards her. He knew it was time to get up, it was Luci day, but another five minutes wouldn’t kill anyone. As her heart settled from one of what she hoped would be many more mornings with him, she rolled over on top of him. Her chest pressed into his back and she snaked her arms around his neck, giggling at the grunts and groans that sounded as he shifted to accommodate them. “Oh, not mad anymore?” he teased, the corners of his lips pulling up into a smile. “Guess not,” she retorted, squishing her nose against his cheek, “are you ready for today?” “‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?” “Lucifer…” “Eh, he’s nothing.” Her stomach dropped at his words. Typical of him to not understand the gravity of a situation. She hadn’t seen the Devil since he’d “killed” Gabriel all those years ago, seeing him again was certainly going to kick up some long-repressed memories. “Baby, he isn’t nothing. Please tell me you’re taking this seriously,” she pleaded, pushing herself off of him. “I’m taking it seriously, don’t worry about me,” he replied, turning over to his back to watch her as she put her clothes back on, “Come on, I’ll make you breakfast. I sent Cassie out to get some food for this dump yesterday.” The frown on her face remained as he tried to lighten the mood. He noticed, pursing his lips as his head swayed to the side. Why couldn’t he get one day without some kind of catastrophe needing his attention? He wasn’t going to admit to her face he was just as nervous as he was when they went after him nine years ago. He hadn’t told her then either, but this plan seemed at least slightly more geared for success and with better odds. Luci wasn’t jacked up on his ego and vengeful after eons in the cage. This time would be different. “It’s gonna be fine!” Gabriel continued, getting out of bed and dressing before going to stand in front of her, “I promise.” “You can’t promise that,” she warned, glaring at him through her brows, “That’s what you said last time.” “Yeah, and last time it was fine too. Just what happened afterwards went a little south…” “Gabriel. I can’t…” “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Who dies when they have this much to live for, right?” Gently, he pulled her into his arms, tucking his chin onto the top of her head. They stayed still, minds racing. All the contentment she’d thrived in yesterday had washed away, being replaced by the vision of his wings seared into the wooden floor of that old hotel, body laid out, still and bloody. Even with his arms around her that still felt like a reality, the piece of her that only he kept together shook in its place as she recalled the years of his absence. She still hadn’t given him an answer, whether or not she would stay behind, and the question was still buzzing in the back of his mind. His own chances of making it out of there in one piece were low enough, he didn’t need to add her into the mix. Michael would be gunning for her first. “Just…” she stuttered, lifting her head to look at him. “I know,” he answered, not needing to even hear the rest. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling the tension she was holding in her neck and shoulders melt away at his gesture. Her pace picked up as the desperation set in, locking a hand into his hair as her eyebrows scrunched together. If life had taught her anything, it was that something standing right in front of you could be gone without a moment’s notice. “Hey, hey,” he cooed, pulling his head away, “look at me.” Regrettably, she opened her eyes, swallowing hard to repress tears she knew were coming. His face was soft yet strong as his hands came up to cup her face. He gave her that trademark smirk and she wished she could have said it helped ease her building anxiety, but it didn’t. “Lucifer doesn’t know what’s about to hit him. I got him, okay?” he assured, kissing her forehead, “Now, kitchen. Go.” Grabbing his hand, she led him from the bedroom. A piece of him was happy to be out of there, he had to make a point to scrub the walls clean before they slept in there again. She may not be able to read the words written there, but he could. He needed no more reminders than the ones already burned into his memory of his time down in the pit. When they popped out of the hall and into the main area, their attention was grabbed by a large, slumped figure in the library —Sam. He was still wearing the same clothes he had the day before, setting alarms off in both of their heads. Quickly, Liv changed direction and tugged Gabriel towards the hunter. “Sam?” she asked quietly, “did you sleep?” “Uh hey. No,” Sam admitted, his lips forming into a tight line, voice heavy. “Do you want to?” Gabriel inquired, placing a hand on Liv’s lower back, “I got enough in the tank to knock you out for a few hours. Better than nothin’.” “No. Thanks though.” “You need to sleep, Sam,” Liv continued, “We have a big day.” “Yeah. Trust me. I know.” “What’s up buddy?” Gabriel chimed in, stepping a little closer to him. “Lucifer.” Gabriel nodded, tucking his lips into each other, “Can you give us a minute?” he whispered into Liv’s hair, kissing her temple afterwards. With a small smile and a nod, she took off in the direction of the kitchen, hoping that Gabriel could fix whatever was plaguing Sam . As soon as Liv was out of view, Gabriel pulled out the chair next to Sam and sat down. Sam’s eyes were tired, black circles having formed underneath, his face even more conflicted than normal. “What’d he do to you?” Gabriel finally spoke up. “Everything. When I was stuck in the cage with him for… for a year,” Sam confessed, too tired to even care it was the Trickster he was pouring his heart out to. “Yeah, I can sympathize with that first part. Never was stuck in the cage with him, heaven before he was cast out though… shit show.” Sam’s eyes changed and filled with sympathy as he looked at the archangel. Gabriels’ face was set into a sad, lopsided smile, his eyes mirroring Sam’s. Gabriel remembered those years, before Earth had been created, before Lucifer had been kicked out, anarchy began and Dad disappeared. Before he ran. “I was the youngest brother there for a little while, before pops made the seraphs. He’s always been a twisted dick, don’t know where that wiring went so wrong…” Gabriel continued. “How’d you… deal with it?” Sam mumbled softly. “I didn’t. Lot’a pent up issues in this handsome façade Sam, I’d give Dean a run for his money. Back then, I told myself I was helping my brother fight through his issues. I thought I was doing him a service, proving to him that I loved him. Letting him use me like that… But you know how this story ends.” “Yeah. I’ve tried running too.” “Luci always comes home.” A silence settled between the two men, heavy and thick as they both traveled back into their nightmares. Gabriel recalled years and years of mutilation and abuse at the hands of his brother, one could even call it torture. Physical, mental, emotional, Lucifer knew no limit when it came to inflicting pain. He’d used Gabriel’s soft and gentle nature against him, using it to his advantage like it was a sport. When he finally fled heaven, it was the first time he had ever truly felt peace, even through the pain of missing his family. “Are you… afraid to see him?” Sam questioned, his eyes falling to the table. “Afraid? Nah. Nothing worse he can do to me than what he’s already done,” Gabriel answered, his voice void of the fear he felt, “I survived. Like to think I came out on top actually.” That was a conviction he truly felt. Lucifer, he hadn’t changed. He was still bitter, jaded, cruel. He’d done nothing to remedy his flaws and downfalls over the years, whereas Gabriel felt he had. Well, at least he’d tried. He’d loved, lost, saved a few people, killed a couple of bad apples. All in all he didn’t think he’d done too badly for himself, considering. Then there was Liv, of course. No matter what powers Lucifer held over Gabriel, he’d never have something like her. “Don’t… let him get to you,” Gabriel continued, “He feeds on it. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sam was shocked by the sentiment in Gabriel’s tone. This was the same guy that killed Dean in front of him hundreds of times, and then made him live out six months of pure hell in some elaborate prank. Yet, here he was now, hunting down the devil and willing to put himself on the line to save the world, even if he was a little reluctant. Times certainly had changed. “How long?” Sam inquired nervously, “how long have you and Liv been, whatever you are.” “Long time,” Gabriel responded, “if you’re wondering if she was around for Mystery Spot, then yeah. Earned myself the dog house for that one. Ya hungry? I’m making the Liv Special. Eggs over easy and more bacon than any one human being ever needs to consume. You’ll be doing her arteries a favor by sharing.” “Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks.” As Gabriel took off in the direction of the kitchen, Sam knew he needed to linger a little bit longer. Dean was still passed out in his bed, his snores could faintly be heard from all the way in the library. Sam had heard him stumble in around 4 AM, his efforts with that little brunette were not in vain. While he knew Gabriel’s intentions were good, the angel had done nothing to ease his mind. If anything, it had only pissed him off further. Lucifer had been destroying lives since before the sun was even created, yet somehow God had let him continue to exist. He thought back to all the people they’d lost throughout the years and the fact that that devoid, petulant monster was still walking freely angered him to no limit. One day they’d get the upper-hand on him and end him once and for all or he was going to die trying. When Gabriel turned into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway. Some things needed to be appreciated and revered for exactly what they were and this was one of them. Liv was seated on the counter, her legs hanging freely over the edge, swinging absentmindedly as she held a mug of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. Her attention was still very much engaged with whatever she was doing on it, he was fairly certain it was that weird candy game he’d caught her playing a few times now. She was addicted to it. Her hair was cascading around her face and shoulders, his t-shirt hung loosely on her small frame and he couldn’t help but take in the rawness of the moment. This was her. Most would never see this side of her, they’d never be so lucky. To them, she’d always be that tough-as-nails hunter with the tongue to boot. To him, she’d always be that goofy, clumsy, giggling nerd who watched too much Harry Potter and could solve almost the entire Sunday Crossword singlehandedly. He figured at some point when Dad was pulling everything together, turning atoms into molecules and molecules into trees, platypus’, angels and humans, a piece of her must have been thrown into him by mistake. One little molecule meant for her was whirring around wreaking chaos, rewiring his electrical currents. How could something so small and insignificant be so profound that it changed fate itself? He knew he wasn’t meant to love her, he was designed for a much greater purpose, but as he stood before her there was no grander task he could have been assigned. He was her lover, her best friend, her guardian and she the very thing that kept his grace pumping through his veins. Perhaps it was that little stolen piece of her that had kept him alive through the tortures of hell. Buzzing in his body on overdrive, jumpstarting his own wearied cells into functioning just enough to keep him going day after day, year after year. Remember what you’re fighting for. She was the beginning and the end, the very definition of purpose. There was no force that heaven, hell, or anything in between could muster that was strong enough to tear him from her now. “Hey,” she greeted, finally catching sight of him leaning in the entryway, “what’re you doing?” “Enjoying the view,” he beamed, pushing himself off the frame and towards her. As he advanced she rolled her eyes, scoffing with a grin. She tossed her phone down onto the counter as he came to stand in front of her, nestling himself between her knees with his hands pressed into the cool countertop on each side of her. Her arms wrapped around his neck lazily, one hand toying with his messy hair. “You know, your face is gonna get stuck that way if you keep rolling your eyes like that,” he teased. His lips fell to her throat, her pulse thrumming beneath his lips reminding him again that she was real. She was here. She was with him. “You don’t have to come today,” he whispered against her skin, lips feathering as he spoke. “Don’t be dumb,” she insulted, “I’m going. Don’t even try to stop me. You’re making me sit out the grand finale, I’m at least helping in the opener.” A sigh of relief exploded from his chest. He felt her breathe a small laugh through her nose, her arms wrapping a little tighter around him. His lips began to brush against her again, trailing up her neck and face until his forehead was pressed firmly against hers. She finally answered his request, and for once, she was giving in. “Thank you,” he choked, the relief settling so many of his nerves and fears. “You owe me,” she warned, keeping her eyes locked on his. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Swear to… you.” Swearing to God held no meaning, not to him, but she did. She smiled with one side of her lips, bringing one hand between them and holding her pinky out straight. He mirrored her expression, linking his own smallest finger with hers and squeezing, pulling their hands into his chest. With not a second’s more hesitation he leaned in and kissed her, lightly at first, but his motions picking up speed and tempo as he grew more and more grateful for this break he’d been given. She’d be safe here, at home. She’d have the witch as backup, in a warded bunker loaded with more weapons than anyone knew what to do with. When he came home, he’d bury himself in her arms, finally ready to take on the future. A future filled with nothing but her and peace and quiet. “Have you decided on where exactly we’ll be going when this is all said and done?” Gabriel’s anticipation bubbled over, he wanted specifics on where his life would be headed in just a few days time. “Mexico? Maybe Belize again…” she mused, that coy little smirk still plastered on her face. “Oh I always knew you were perfect.” “I like the beach, and the food, and you like the tequila. Win win.” “Uh, correction. I like you drunk on the tequila. Something about it makes you throw inhibitions to the wind and I have a deep appreciation for it.” Sam rounded the corner and paused where Gabriel had moments before, the scene before him making him smile. Gabriel was hovered in towards Liv sitting on the countertop, her arms wrapped around his neck with the most serene expression on her face. It was a look he would have never thought possible for her. They were both smiling with their entire faces, completely enraptured by one another; a tornado could pass by and he didn’t think they’d even notice. He hadn’t seen a look like that on Gabriel’s face since before they’d outed him as an archangel, unbridled happiness tinged with a touch a mischief. He looked at her like she was made of a magic only he could see. They certainly did bring out the best in each other. Maybe the worst, too. A pang of guilt hit him in the stomach. Clearly, they just wanted to run off into the sunset together, but here they were being drug off into his and his brother’s mess once again. He knew there was no other option, and Dean would never forgive either of them for walking away now, but it didn’t change the fact that Sam knew this wasn’t their problem. It never had been. He watched as Gabriel leaned in and kissed her, soft and slow. It was the way you kissed someone that you knew you had the power to break, but never would. It was reassuring and absolute. It was the kind of kiss he craved to give to someone, to receive in return, but that wasn’t his fate. It never was and it never would be. “I’m hungry,” Sam heard Liv pout as Gabriel pulled away, and he figured it was time to make his presence known. “Hey,” he greeted, walking into the kitchen like he hadn’t just been watching them. “Sam,” she announced, her face losing some of the softness he’d just been witness to, “slacker here hasn’t even started yet if you’re looking for breakfast.” Gabriel groaned in jest as he trudged over-dramatically to the fridge, pulling out the groceries he’d sent Castiel to collect the day before. Liv snickered to herself, hopping down to the floor and fetching two frying pans so they could begin their task. Sam sat back and watched as the pair worked seamlessly together. Gabriel did most of it, Liv passing eggs and utensils as needed and he wondered how, after so many years apart, two people could still be so in sync with one other. It was like not a second had passed. When he moved around her, he brushed a hand against her lower back, the little motion always eliciting at least a twitch of a smile from her lips and he swore they passed things back and forth without even so much as a look. Their motions were almost second nature, so deeply ingrained it was more habit than effort. The sight of an all powerful archangel in his kitchen frying bacon and eggs was certainly not something Sam ever expected to be sitting through. He thought he might actually be sad when they all went their separate ways. “Never knew you could cook Gabriel,” Sam commented, the smell of bacon filling the room and he knew Dean would be roused by it soon. “Oh yeah,” the angel bragged as he switched his attention from the bacon to the eggs, “You get bored after a while, Sammy.” “He can play guitar, too,” Liv boasted further, turning and leaning her back against the counter, “and we moonlit as bartenders for a little while. Also good at that.” “Oh yeah? Bartenders huh?” Sam wondered, “why?” “Why not?” Gabriel noted, “We had fun.” There was so much more to them than Sam could have ever guessed. He hoped they’d stick around for even a few days after they returned, to tell their stories. The bunker could use a little happy every once in awhile. Liv came over moments later, setting a plate down in front of Sam and herself, taking a seat across from him. Sam had to admit, this had to be one of the best looking breakfasts he’d seen in awhile. “You gonna be all right?” She asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Me? Oh yeah. I’ll be fine,” Sam promised, and he watched as Liv looked to Gabriel for reassurance. “Do I smell bacon?” a gravelly, sleep-heavy voice called from the hallway. The three inhabitants of the kitchen all turned their attention to the doorway, the image of a bathrobe-clad, hungover Dean coming into view. Gabe’s chin tucked into his neck as his eyebrows furrowed, his reaction earning a stifled giggle from Liv. “Wow,” Gabriel commented, “Mark this under things I had no interest in ever experiencing.” Sam and Liv burst out into laughter as they watched Dean’s face wrinkle in confusion and offense, Gabriel standing true in his disgusted expression. Dean brushed past the angel, fumbling loudly as he poured himself a mug of coffee, pouring almost half of it out onto the counter. “Do you have no self-awareness?” Gabriel chided as he watched Dean leave the mess, “Or are you just that disgusting?” “Never took you as a neat freak, Gabe,” Dean teased, smirking as he sat down next to his brother, “send a plate of that over here, will ya?” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he glared at the hunter, his eyes full of contempt. He couldn’t wait to be out of here. “Please?” Dean added sarcastically. Liv shook her head, these two would never get along. Luckily, they wouldn’t have to for much longer. She watched as Gabriel prepared a plate, haphazardly tossing food onto it in a manner very much unlike him. Even with this simple task, he was all about presentation. As he tossed it onto the counter and turned to lean against the stove Liv laughed again, all about presentation and a little petty. “I am not delivering it to you,” Gabriel stated matter-of-factly, “Not even in your wildest dreams.” “You two are going to be the death of us all,” Liv retorted, bringing her empty plate over to the sink, “behave.” Her hand skimmed over Gabriel’s chest as she whispered that last word just to him as she passed. She wound her way back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her for one moment of privacy. She’d made up her mind, deciding to give Gabriel a reprieve from his anxiety and stay behind from the main mission. While everything was still screaming at her to not let him go over there alone, she knew she had to trust him. She had to trust the Winchesters and Castiel; they’d get him home safely. He’d get himself home to her, he said he would, and he wouldn’t break another promise. Right now, the focus was on Lucifer. While she knew they’d be headed off to destruction land as soon as they got their hands on archangel grace, that time wasn’t here just yet. She dressed in more suitable attire for hunting the devil, but kept Gabriel’s old shirt on, it just seemed right having it on. Typically, she only ever slept in it, but it seemed appropriate even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. She was left alone for thirty minutes, her thoughts running rampant, before a soft knock startled her from her worries. “Can I come in?” a familiar sweet voice sounded from the other side of the antiquated wood. “Of course,” she replied softly, if he was anything but an angel he probably wouldn’t have even heard. When he stepped into the room, he saw exactly what he was expecting. She was seated on the edge of the bed, head hung low, too far gone in her head to dig herself out alone. “Look, I know you’re pissed,” he began. “I’m not pissed, Gabe,” she cut off, snapping her eyes up to him, “I’m… panic-stricken.” He sighed, “I know. Anything I can do? To… ease your suffering?” Leave it to him to pull a smile in the most unlikely of times. Even if there was nothing except abandoning this fool’s plan once and for all. “It’s time to go,” he confessed as she remained silent, “I’ll drive. You just sit co-captain and look cute, yeah?” The pair made their way to the war room, meeting with the other four members of their unlikely team. Rowena and Castiel flanked the Winchester brothers, everyone trying their best to mask their concern and fears. “Okay, we got the plan, right?” Dean barked, his militant tone taking over, “main players are Rowena and Gabe. Cas you’re back up one, Liv, Sam, we’re back up two. We juice him, cuff him, throw him in the trunk. That’s it, on to the next.” Everyone nodded once, their stomachs collectively falling as they walked off towards the garage. Little did they know it was one step towards a path of total and complete destruction. TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons

#gabriel x oc #gabriel x ofc #gabriel #gabriel fanfiction #gabriel fanfic

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