#edit: it would have been the first *16* posts had someone not thrown in a single sandman post in between the revelry

[psqqa]

not just the first, but the first six posts on my dash are about the queen’s death

#i drag myself out of my morning work hellscape to find my team group chat discussing the queen's death #and the first thing i think is 'oh. tumblr must be having a field day' #i was expecting memes #and memes i received #and now i can go to lunch peaceful in the knowledge that tumblr is indeed doing as tumblr doees #edit: it would have been the first *16* posts had someone not thrown in a single sandman post in between the revelry #the 'it's not unusual' of my queen's death day tumblr dash

[jb2856]

The Bodyguard - Part 3

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Fic Tags/Warnings: abt 16+ in my eyes, use of you/you’re & Y/n, no specific character descriptions other than (braid your hair and Din is larger), angst, death, fluff, secrets revealed, blood, injuries.

This one is going to be quite long, this is the end. I suppose I could have made it more parts but I did NOT. So enjoy!

Self edited! so I’m sure there are some many mistakes. And yessss I’m aware I change between perspectives like every minute. I’m sorrrrrryyyy don’t yell at me 😂

As always please leave constructive criticism if you’d like, and if you read/like this post REBLOG PLS! Thank you

Asks/Requests are open 😊 Ask me anything!

—— Din. ——

“Din,” She whispers. “It’s my uncle.”

Confusion is his first thought. Her uncle?

“What do you mean?” He asks urgently, eyes shifting around the site. When she doesn’t answer he speaks louder, “Y/n!”

Her head turns to his, eyes glistening.

“He….” She starts, devastation seeping into her voice. “I think he killed my parents.” And more clearly she states, “he’s the leader of the syndicate..”

Nobody speaks.

Her uncle? The one who had personally hired Din?

But the more he thinks about it, the more it starts to make sense. Thinking back to all the details that Y/n had told him if her life, he puts the pieces together.

He is the high priest of the kingdom, he’s constantly robed in brilliant white gowns, accompanied by a black collar. Y/n had told him her uncle had always been jealous of her mother, envious of her being able to hold even a fraction of power. Y/n also told him how much he hated her father. The night her mother died, she saw a man in white robes. Not to mention the man has never been kind to Y/n.

Din’s skin starts to prickle, he’s angry. Angry that the man who was supposed to care for Y/n is the very man who is the cause of her greatest pain, angry that he had spoken to this piece of shit civilly. Why would he have hired someone to keep her safe? To keep her in check instead?

Din wants to kill him.

Suddenly there is the distinct sound of footsteps approaching, Din grabs Y/n arm and ducks behind a tree on the outskirts of the campsite. Din watches as the man who had been sitting at the fire runs for the woods, in the wrong direction apparently. Because he is thrown back, his body hitting the ground with a deafening crunch. A deep harsh voice says, “fool.” The man was dead, a knife in his throat.

Y/n is breathing heavily, and Din lifts his hand to cover her mouth. “Shh,” He whispers in her ear. She nods slightly, her back flush against his chest, Dins arms around her, Y/n’s hands gripping his vambrace.

“What the fuck happened here?” The man says to himself, in contempt. Three more men walk into the clearing as Calrin continues to survey the scene. “Scott!”

The man, Scott, jogs right up to him. “Yes sir?”

“Go scout.” He demands, “Find whoever did this. Now!”

Scott nods quickly, running off to search around the perimeter. He starts on the other side, slowly making his way into the trees. They had maybe two minutes max before he catches them.

Din tugs Y/n’s elbow, “we need to leave.”

Her brows furrowed, not liking the idea.

“Come.” He insists, wanting to keep her safe. He begins to tug her arm once again, she relents shuffling a step. But her foot lands on a branch, causing a deafening snap to ring out.

She lets out a quiet sigh of resignation, her lids sliding closed at the display of stupidity. “Fuck.” She whispers.

Lord Calrin’s head whips towards their direction, his hand going to a concealed weapon under his robe. He ignite a red saber, which causes Y/n’s eyes to bug out.

Was he the Sith Lord??

——Y/n——

“Come. On.” Din growls lowly, tugging your hand.

Shaking your head you take your hand back, “No, no. I have to…”

“What?” Din interrupts quietly, “kill him right here?” He shakes his head grabbing you fully now, throwing you over his shoulder. “You’re not ready to face that, him.”

“Din.” You hiss, smacking his back. “Put me down.”

You’d already retreated quite a bit, the distance quickly growing between you two and the syndicate.

“No.” He plainly. “It’s my job to protect you.” Smacking him again lightly, he relents.

“You can protect me as I walk on my own two feet!” You say, annoyed.

You’re walking in silence now, you gripping your aching shoulder and Din beside you, brooding. Always Brooding. As you walk, you think how unusually easy it was to flee that area. How had he not detected you both?

“What are we going to do now?” You ask him quietly, breaking the deafening silence, agony and confusion clear in your tone.

He shakes his head, “I…don’t know.”

Silence.

Could you to home? How are you supposed to act as if you didn’t just find out about your uncles secret double life? As if you didn’t just come realize it was your uncle you saw the day of your mothers death, as if you don’t know he is responsible for your mothers death? Your fathers disappearance?

Maybe it is your best option..maybe…maybe if you take them down from the inside…

“Din?”

“Yes?”

“I think we should pretend that did not just happen.”

You’re still walking, your bare feet scuffling the dirt of the path. You take a glance at him, his helmet nodding. He isn’t reacting to you, more thinking to himself.

“I agree.” He finally states, “I think I want to investigate your court.”

“Yes, I agree.” You stop in your tracks causing him to also. “Although I think…” you say as you place a hand on his wrist, shaking your head. “I think it’s just him.”

“We shall see.” His other hand comes and rests upon your own, you stare into his visor a warm feeling enveloping your being.

“Yes,” breaking out of your stupor, you nod, taking your hand back and continuing the walk back. “Come on.”

Once back in your rooms, you and Din discuss combat. You’ve asked for a refresher as it’s been awhile since you’ve trained. Before he leaves to investigate, you made a plan.

Your uncle lives in the upper tower of the Castle, he usually returns around 12am each night and leave around 10am. Din is going to go take a look around, but not touch or remove anything. He wants to get ahead on Calrins plans, and simply confirm. You are going to stay in your rooms, your windows and door locked and partially barricaded for the night. You feel prepared. He’s left you with a new blade, and you retrieve your own from the stone floor near your bed. He’s also left with you a communicator, incase either of you need to contact the other. You feel as prepared as you can be for the time being, but you are worried what the future holds.

Will you fight? Will you have to kill your uncle? Or witness his death. How will you feel about it? And how far has his war progressed? Is your uncle truly a Sith Lord? You were not aware that your uncle was force sensitive. Could you be? How could you tell if you were? Was your mother? Everything is overwhelming and you hate the uneasy feeling that sinks in your bones.

For now you try not to worry, mentally preparing for a fight instead. Changing into a comfortable outfit, a tan pair of tactical pants that cuff at the ankle, a sage green long sleeved tunic that stopped at mid thigh and had a slit on each side that began at the waist, revealing your hips and thighs. You also added a back mock neck top underneath your tunic, and you tied your hair into a braid the best you could. You’ve placed your boots by your bedside, prepared to put them in quickly.

With nothing left to do, you put your covers back and get into bed. Laying your head back on the pillow and getting comfy under the covers, you close your eyes, hoping to put off thoughts of your uncle and his actions. Eventually you fitfully drift off.

——Din——

As he shuts the door to Y/n’s rooms, Din takes a steadying breath. He feels…nervous. He feels anger for her, anger at the man’s actions. Towards Y/n, towards many many other people.

He can’t let anything happen to her, he has come to care for her too much. He would burn the world for her. He…loves her, Din realizes, deeply.

He makes his way down the hall, it’s around 11:30pm, if Y/n is right, he has about half an hour to look for anything in that man’s room. He walks through the castle, in high alert. Does Calrin have spies? Does he have security?

Din switches on a sensor in his visor, scanning for any unusual power sources or signatures. Nothing from what he can see. He tiptoes up the spiral stairs to the top of the tower and slowly opens the door. But before he pushed it open he turned on his heat signature feature, scanning for human life this time. Still nothing. Behind the door was a plain room, a bed, a wardrobe, a door that was open revealing a bathroom. He had a desk and a closet door.

It’s very…empty.

Din decides to start at the desk, refilling through the papers. But none of it pertains to his second life. After the desk he moves to the bed, checking underneath and in the chest in front of it. Nothing. Just clothing. He stands from searching underneath the bed, and does a turn around the room. His eyes catch at the closet, there is a abnormal shape behind a few hanging robes. Din walks closer, eyes borrowing under his helmet. He shifts the robes aside, and the wall is somewhat detached from the rest, a rectangular shape like a door behind it.

Pushing on the section of wall he is able to get it open, but then he has to shift it to the side. It’s a pocket door, hidden inside the closet wall.

The contents behind it have Dins eyes widening.

There is an entire wall of Sith and Dead Eye memorabilia, and rows of weapons. Two light sabers from what he can see, and a table in the center, with a tablet and a paper map atop it.

Here is his proof, he thinks almost sadly. Anger rises inside him again, this man will pay, he promises himself.

Din picks up the tablet, searching the contents.

There are plans for his syndicate, they plan to advance within a month. His kidnap attempt is outlined inside as well. That clearly failed. No one knows exactly what the Siths plans were, just that he had been conquering entire worlds. It does not say anything about his goal, it just contains fractures of plans. He sets the tablet down after searching it’s entirety, and then he looks at the map.

It shows the region.

The castle, the landmarks, their camp, and a cave labeled, ‘prison.’ Din feels sorry for any of the people he has imprisoned inside that dank, dark abyss of a cave.

Din rolls the map up and puts it in his waistband. After checking a few other things inside the room, Din makes the decision to wait. And take the man down here and now. No remorse, he doesn’t deserve it.

He clicks on his communicator, “Y/n.”

It takes her a moment, but then he hears the static and her lovely voice. “I’m here.” She says quietly, voice a little tired. Had he woken her up? She must have been exhausted from todays events. He imagines her cuddled up in her bed, hair a mess. Maybe there were lines on her face from the pillow. What was she wearing? Maybe a nightgown.

Fuck, Din. Focus.

“It’s him.” He says lowly the images of her dissipating and anger seeping into his voice. “He has a secret room full of evidence. I’ve found a map consisting of all their secret bases. I’m going to wait for him to return. I’m going to kill him tonight.”

He lifts his thumb, the line crackling once again. He waits for a response with bated breath.

Finally shes responds, timidly. “Don’t kill him.”

He clenched his jaw. They might need him after all, maybe she’s right. “Okay,” he responds curtly.

“I want to speak with him first.” She says tone laced with anger, not at him he knows.

He takes a moment, “I understand.”

He waits a second before putting away his communicator, and he smiles softly as her voice speaks once more, in a crackling whisper. “Be careful.”

Din decides to put the door back, and wait in the dark for Calrin to return.

The time is now just a little over 12am, so din prepares himself. He charges his stun dart, a new toy he picked up before excepting this job, and shifts a vibroblade into his hand.

It isn’t long before Calrin shows up.

Just as Din expects, He shuffles in quietly to the room, making his way over to the secret room. Din can’t see him so he has to blindly prepare for his attack, he shifts to the corner in the dark, dart at the ready.

Calrin shuffles in, unaware of Dins presence. He has a duffle in his hand that he drops to the ground near the table.

Din makes his move before Calrin could turn.

He rushes forward, but before he can shoot the dart Calrin is twisting flicking the gun out of Dins hands with a wave of his hands, clattering to the floor along with his vibroblade.

He throws Din against the wall with the force, a grunt coming from his throat at the feeling.

“Din Djarin,” Calrin says menacingly. “It seems I’ve been found out.”

Din doesn’t say a word.

“So what?” Calrin says with a chuckle, “You’ve decided to try and end this war yourself? You were going to come in here…and kill me?”

Din struggles, still not speaking.

“Answer me!” Calrin shouts, voice like venom to Din’s ears. “You Mandolorian scum. I should have known better…employing you. I’d heard the stories…but the fucking court wanted Y/n protected.” He hissed.

Din is huffing now, still struggling against the force of Calrin’s power.

Calrin rushes Din, yanking his helmet off.” Din eyes widen, panic fills his chest.

Fuck. No. No.

He starts chuckling again, “Not so tough now?”

Din bears his teeth, his face scrunched in anger. Eyes blazing with hate. “Fuck. You.” He spits.

Calrin comes closer, clocking Din in the face.

Din realizes he can move his hands, clenching a fist. Ever so slowly starts to reach for his saber, detaching it from his belt.

“So what did you find Mando?” Calrin questions in amusement. “Did you connect the dots?” He turns his back on Din. “Oh.” He says to himself, starting to pace. “it was you who rescued my niece.”

Calrin let’s go of the force pining Din, and he slides to the floor with a thump.

“Does she know?” He questions. “Who I am?”

Din doesn’t respond. He gets to his feet, saber in hand, and ignites it.

——Y/n——

“I can’t wait any longer.” You mutter to yourself, pacing your rooms. You hadn’t really been sleeping, mostly just shuffling around in your bed. Worried out of your wind, after the conversation with Din. Maker. Was he okay? You hadn’t received any word from him, it’s been hours. It was almost morning.

Making up you your mind, you swiftly make way to the barricaded door and clear it. You have to tell the court, maybe they can contact the resistance. Hopefully none of them were involved.

It was a risk, but one you needed to make.

You shuffle down the hall, making your way to the court room, bursting in you’re met with a single man. Tom-El, you believe is his name. He looks up, startled.

“Princess!” He chokes, rushing to bow.

“Don’t bother.” You say, rather rudely. He’s left standing awkwardly, not knowing what to do. “I need to speak with you about a very sensitive matter.”

He face grows serious, half bowing his head. “Of course Princess.”

“Please wake Xil, I need to speak with him and someone from the court. High priest Calrin is a traitor to the crown, and a Sith Lord.” You huff out, chest heaving with the words.

Xil was the man who trained you, the one who saw it important you weren’t weak. He was trustworthy. He had served with the resistance during the Battle of Yavin, he had contacts. He could help.

You continue to tell Tom-El the events of the past few hours, his jaw drops, eyes wide. Pleasantries forgotten he rushes to turn the emergency coms, his fingers punching the buttons to contact Xil. His eyes are shifting back and forth from you and the now ringing com, concern and confusion blurring his rather handsome features.

You just stand there, chest still slightly heaving. Anxious to get moving, about Dins whereabouts. Was he okay?

“Commander Xil.” Comes an annoyed response from the com.

“C..commander!” He stutters, not exactly knowing how to say the words. Instead he settles on, “get to the court room as fast as you can. It’s an state emergency.”

“Of course. I’ll be there in a moment.” He says astonished, promptly hanging up.

Tom-El turns to look at you, you look back.

You both wait.

——Din——

Bursting the door open, Din limps out of Calrins quarters, breaths rattling his chest, his hand grips the gaping wound on his side. Blood seeping out of his clothes, dripping down his polished armor. He pauses, coughing wetly, the taste of blood causes him to gag slightly.

He has only one thing on his mind now, Y/n. His sweet girl. He had to apologize, for what he just did. He wanted to kiss her soft, plush lips reverently. He could now, he thinks bitterly.

Din pats himself looking for his Com, letting out a quick breath when he finds it. “Y/n.” He grunts, continuing his limp down the corridor.

“Din!” Comes her quick, worried reply. “Are you alright? Where are you? What happened?”

“Where are you?” He chokes out instead, not wasting his breath on answers.

“I’m in the court room, I’ve enlisted some help.”

Instead of responding he drops his Com back down and continues his stuttered walk, he stumbles slightly his hand catching himself on the wall. He glances, worry finally etching onto his face at the bloody print he leaves behind.

Finally making it to the court he bursts in and halts at what he sees, he’s bracing against the door. Quick breaths harshly escaping out of his chest, rattling when he breathes back in.

There are so many people in the court room, bustling about. So many conversations, he can’t focus. His vision starts to blur, his eyes dart searching for her.

“Din!” He hears her horrified voice call out. He finally sees her, rushing forward, worry marring her beautiful features. “Oh maker! What the fuck happened!” Her hand comes to his face, cradling his jaw. Tears are welling in those shocked eyes.

He hates that. He doesn’t want her to have to feel these things.

He starts to wobble, his knees collapsing. Y/n tries to guide him to the floor, but he is so much larger than her. He hits the ground, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

——Y/n——

He is laid up in your bed, his armor had been removed, his helmet. Maker.

That was the first time you’d seen him, and he had been battered, covered in blood. But you’d still seen him, his brown eyes, his patchy facial hair, his kissable plump lips. You’d seen him.

They’d rushed him into a bacta tank, injecting him with antibiotics and a bunch of things, you had no idea what they were. You had cried for so long, worried to death about him.

After they’d rushed him off you’d informed the court and resistance members that now filled the court room of where he had been, and they’d gone to search for Calrin, and with much protest you’d accompanied them.

He had been there, to everyone’s astonishment. Dead.

Din had severed his head, with his saber you assume. There had been severe signs of a struggle, and blood everywhere. You had never seen so much blood. Many weapons had littered the floor, and Din’s helmet had been thrown, rolled under the now broken table. You had snatched it up, still shocked at what you’d seen. It had clearly not been a choice on Din’s part, he’d just defended himself.

You sit, his hand in yours, two fingers placed on his wrist obsessively making sure his heart was still beating.

He looked so much better, the bacta has healed his severe wounds, only just touching the cuts on his face. The bruises were now gone but he still had some small cuts, one on his lip, another on his brow.

Tears begin to blur your vision once again, you lean forward and place a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Please wake up Din.” You whisper to yourself, willing him to hear you.

The court, with the help of the resistance are making a plan to thwart the efforts of the syndicate and your uncle’s followers you’re not sure what their plan is right now. More focused on Din.

You sit there, long into the night, only moving to relieve yourself, not bothering to eat or drink anything. Your only thoughts consist of him.

It’s not until early into the night, almost morning when he finally shifts, you jolt at the feeling. His hand slowly grips yours back, you gasp, eyes shifting between his.

“Din!”

His eyes are cracking open, blearily searching about. He blinks harshly, a small smile forming in his dry lips. There is a notch between his brows you want to smooth over.

“Din.” You whisper again, waiting for him to speak.

“Sweet girl.” He rasps, his other hand making it’s way to cup your cheek. Tears start to fall from your tired eyes once again, you sniff, chuckling slightly.

“Oh maker.” You cry, practically launching yourself on top him. He lets out an oof as you make contact. “I was so scared.”

His hand rests on your back, your head on his chest and your leg twined with his. It’s moments before he speaks, you’re still huffing out silent sobs.

“I’m sorry.” He chokes, remorse clear in his voice. You shoot up, hand braced on his chest. You brows lower in confusion.

“Sorry? For what? You did it Din!”

His head shakes minutely, “I…I killed him.”

She shakes her head back at him, “it’s okay.” You tell him intently. “The Sith is dead, he was an evil man Din. That part is over…thanks to you.”

He stares at you, no words come out of his mouth. His eyes shift lower, he glanced at your mouth. Almost…longingly.

Does he want to kiss you?

A small smile forms on your face, you look at his lips quickly, moving back up to his eyes. You lean into him, closing the distance between you ever so slowly. Your eyes drift close, and then your lips meet sweetly, softly.

You heart fills, love swelling inside you. You’re kissing him. You love him. His large hand is moving up your side to your face again, your hands are on his chest still. The kiss deepens, your feel his tongue brush your lips, requesting entrance, you accept moaning at the taste of him.

You get lost in each other, only pulling away for breath.

You’re both panting, now. “Din.” You sigh his name, pulling away.

“I love you.” He burst out, surprising you.

Your eyes shoot to his. You smile wildly, tears once again, filling your eyes. “I love you too.”

You both chuckle, just staring, wide smiles cracking your faces. Jumping when you hear a knock at the door, you extract yourself from him as his slowly sits up in the bed. You move across the room and open the door.

“Princess.” The man states, “Xil requests yours, and the Mandalorians presence in the court room.”

“We’ll be along in a moment.” You respond, closing the door in his face.

“That was sort of rude.” Comes Din sardonic reply.

You smirk, rolling your eyes.

“What’s going on?” He questions more seriously, as you make your way back to his side.

“Xil was able to contact the resistance, they’ve come to help.”

He nods, “that’s good.” You nod back.

You can’t help but feel a little sad that your moment was interrupted, you’d just gotten him back.

Not to mention you have so many unanswered questions regarding Calrin, questions that will remain unanswered.

“Let’s go.”

———

Once arriving back to the court room you search out Xil, Din tagging close behind you. He hasn’t put his helmet back on, you wonder if there is a reason, you wonder if he ever will again.

“Xil,” you say stopping behind him. He’s hunched over a table, speaking with a man in an orange jumpsuit.

“Ah. Princess.” His eyes shift to Din, he nods his head once acknowledging the man towering behind you. “We’re going to attack within an hour.”

Your eyes widen at the news, that was fast.

“Thanks to the Mandalorian we’ve found very important details on their whereabouts and their plans. We must act swiftly.”

“O…of course.” You stutter, head moving to look at Din. His own lower to you.

He smirks at you, eyes moving back up to Xil. “How can we help?”

The end.

——————————————

AN: if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Again Anon- Thank you for requesting, I hope this story was to your liking!

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #the bodyguard #the mandalorian x f!reader

[gracelesslady23]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Thanks so much for the tag @strugglequill!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

18 :)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

336K (wow thats so much more than I thought it would be) - but this does count the 3 unrevealed and anon-ed fics so...

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I've written bits and pieces for a whole bunch of different fandoms, but mainly write for Harry Potter and I've only ever posted HP fics online.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

the ghost of you, it keeps me awake (currently unrevealed for rewrites); and a love that I dreamt of came to me at my worst; In Plain Sight; The Wedding Date; Just Mates

All prongsfoot :)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes!! I adore receiving comments on my fics and try to respond to as many of them as I can (even if it sometimes takes me a while to get to it).

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm very much a happy ending writer (these characters already go through so much angst in canon, I can't help it) although I certainly enjoy building up some angst in the lead up to the happy ending... but if I had to pick probably my jilypad-if-you-squint entry into this year's Kill Your Darlings MCD fest flickering light in an endless night although I tried to give it somewhat of a hopefully ending, even if its not necessarily a happy one.

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

All the others lol. Haha but maybe you'll see me in hindsight I certainly spent more time with S/J after they are officially together in that fic than I usually do and there's like two chapters of smut/fluff to make up for the earlier angst.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Luckily, only few times (thank god for the small insular fandom that is prongsfoot <3), but it always hurts and turns me off writing for a period. I feel so sorry for any writer who has experienced it.

9. Do you write smut?

Sure do. Although, I do struggle a bit with writing it. I've also realised preferences sway towards the vanilla (with maybe a bit of voyeurism, exhibitionism thrown in), so that's usually what I feel comfortable writing :)

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope. I wrote some dreadful Queer as Folk/HP crossovers as a teenager (which will NEVER see the light of day) but haven't for years and years.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I was so thrilled that someone liked my work enough to do so.

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

No I haven't. I am quite insecure in my unfinished drafts so I think I might struggle to share that with someone in order to co-write, but maybe one day!

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

Can't go past Sirius/James. I've loved them for over a decade (which is insane) but Merlin/Arthur have been a close contender at certain times of my life <3

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

I want you to ruin my life I just lost steam on the project and it went in a direction that I wasn't completely happy with. I do feel guilty though, which is why its now on permanent hiatus and anon-ed lol.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ummm... I think I can come up with a cool concept / AU idea once in a while.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing Endings is probably the thing I'm most annoyed with myself about at the moment!! Finishing projects without being distracted by new ones. Purple prose (probably), sometimes even I get tired when editing my ridiculously convoluted introspection scenes (although I think, or at least hope, i'm getting better at editing them down). Writing characters and POVs outside of the ones I'm most familiar with. Writing oneshots and actually keeping them at a reasonable length (see issues with endings lol). Self confidences... the list goes on.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I'd love to be fluent enough in another language to do so one day.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, probably Harry/Hermione (but I didn't finish or post anything until fairly recently).

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Probably and a love that I dreamt of came to me at my worst, its probably the fic I've re-read the most and has so many of my favourite tropes in it. And idk I'm just really proud that I actually wrote something that long and managed to see it through and finish it.

Tagging (No Pressure): @lovelymasks @groundzero-v @mycupofrum @roalinda @bronzeagepizzeria

or whoever else would like to share :)

#tag game #long post

[saiilorstars]

Darkest Before Dawn

Ch.16: Don’t Tell

Steve Rogers x OFC fic

taglist:@arrthurpendragon​​ @anotherunreadblog​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​ ​​@stareyedplanet​​ @antonybridgertons​​ @gloryekaterina​​  @foxesandmagic​​​  @lenonizi​​

Story Masterlist // Seren’s Masterlist​​

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Steve was furious when he walked into the room to find Tony actually poking Banner with an electrical prod. Steve couldn't believe his eyes - was this really Howard's son!? Someone this...irresponsible!?

"Hey! Are you nuts?" Steve nearly snatched the rod from Tony altogether lest the man wanted to try again for the Hulk. At this point, Steve wouldn't put it behind Tony to do it.

It was even more infuriating to see Tony calm as ever, as if he hadn't just tried something dangerously stupid. He was simply studying Banner for any sign that he might be turning green soon. "You really have got a lid on it, haven't you?" He all but circled Banner. "What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?"

Steve shook his head. "Is everything a joke to you!?"

"Funny things are," Tony shrugged lightly.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny!" Steve took a breath in and realized his words and how they sounded in Banner's perspective. "No offense, doctor," he offered Banner an apologetic smile. He knew Banner was probably trying his best to remain himself but the truth was, as sad as it was, that if he turned into the Hulk then they were all near goners.

Banner, however, took no actual offence. He merely smiled back. "No, it's alright. I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things."

Tony still wasn't convinced. "You're tiptoeing, big man. You need to strut."

Steve once again looked at Tony like he was crazy, and he was beginning to suspect that it was the truth. "And you need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark."

"You think I'm not? Why did Fury call us and why now? Why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables."

"You think Fury's hiding something?"

"He's a spy. Captain, he's the spy. His secrets have secrets." Tony jerked a thumb over at Banner without even looking at the man. "It's bugging him too, isn't it?"

Banner struggled to speak when all eyes turned on him. He wasn't expecting to be thrown into that conversation. "Uh...I just wanna finish my work here and…"

Steve could hear the indecision in Banner's tone, ultimately making him ask if he agreed with Tony. "Doctor?"

Banner hesitated for another minute before realizing that if anyone would be trustworthy enough to keep that secret, it would be Steve. " 'A warm light for all mankind, Loki's jab at Fury about the cube."

"I heard it…"

"Well, I think that was meant for you," Banner pointed at Tony, much to the latter's genuine surprise. "Even if Barton didn't post that all over the news."

"The Stark Tower? That big ugly…" Steve trailed off once he was subjected to Tony's look but the remainder of the words still came out a few seconds later. "...building in New York?" It was a bit flashy for his taste when Seren first showed it to him and even now, his opinion had not changed.

"It's powered by Stark Reactors, self-sustaining energy source. That building will run itself for what, a year?" Banner asked curiously.

"That's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now," Tony said off-handedly, far too casual.

"So, why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project?" Banner still motioned to Tony while he addressed Steve, admittedly making a good point. "I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?"

Steve wouldn't deny that it was a good question to ask, not that he would like to see anyone working with the Tesseract. Right now, he hated that Seren had been forced to take care of that thing while he was in the dark about it. That thing was dangerous enough when left alone and they placed it so close to Seren and everyone else. "I wouldn't know, Seren didn't tell me but...I could ask Chloe—"

"You really think Megamind is going to tell you anything?" Tony rolled his eyes, initially missing the glare Steve sent his way. "She's embedded with S.H.I.E.L.D., as is Agent Soul in case you didn't get the memo."

"Stop calling them that! Chloe doesn't like it and as for Seren, it's offensive."

Tony still didn't see the problem. "Why?" He shrugged. "It's a literal description of their powers. Winters is from the mind and Soul runs on star matter. That little star on her neck?" He made a gesture at his own neck for reference. "That's the mark of her people. She's an alien."

"She's as much a human as you and I are," snapped Steve. He could see the reaction on Banner's face at the revelation and he was more than ready to take Banner and Tony to defend Seren if need be.

"Well—" Tony sniffed, "—maybe not so much you, huh?"

Steve's face fell flat. He could care less what Tony thought of him and his own unique biology but he wouldn't let Tony keep calling out Seren the way he was, especially when Seren wasn't even there to defend herself. "You need to leave the nicknames behind, Stark. Seriously."

Tony rolled his eyes, groaning dramatically. "God, I didn't get this much heat from Winters who, by the way, is as shady as this entire organization is."

Steve groaned. "Is that what we're doing, then? We're just going to insult one Agent after the other?"

"I'm not insulting anyone, merely calling out what I see and know." It was honestly irritating to Tony that none of them could see what he saw and they were all just brushing his comments off. He said things for a reason. "But you know what? Pretty soon, I'm going to know everything once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files."

That made Steve stop altogether, as it did to Banner. "I'm sorry, did you say...?"

"Jarvis has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours we'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide." Tony held out the bag of blueberries he picked up from the table. "Blueberry?"

Banner refrained from any berries and the conversation for a moment.

Steve couldn't help himself. Tony was turning out to be an insufferable version of the Starks. "Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around?"

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, not possible." Tony dropped a few more berries into his mouth.

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them."

Tony smiled as if he'd been waiting to hear that line, and perhaps he had been. "Following is not really my style."

Steve smiled wryly. "And you're all about style, aren't you?" His question struck Tony more than it would've to anyone else.

"Of the people in this room, which one is; A. wearing a spangly outfit, and B. not of use?"

Just as Steve was about to respond, Banner cut in, "Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?"

Of course there were a couple questions he had but Steve wasn't going to let anything cloud his mind in this mission. "Just find the cube," he told them and left the lab.

He bumped into Chloe a few corridors down (he may have gotten a little mixed up). "Anything from Loki?" he dared to be hopeful.

Chloe shook her head. "No. He's tight-lipped. Not even Seren knew."

Steve studied her expression. Against his better judgement, he suddenly asked, "Chloe, do you know what S.H.I.E.L.D. was planning on doing with the Tesseract?"

Chloe blinked. Steve hated that he'd asked her that but at the same time he really wanted to know the answer and much more if she would actually answer.

"No. But if it helps, it was also Seren's constant question. She was set to guard the Tesseract, just that. Nobody would ever tell her what the entire mission was about. It was top secret."

Steve thanked her for the answer. It coincided with Seren's behavior during the mission. And look at that, the mission had taken her away.

"I have to go see if Coulson has anything," Chloe mumbled, excusing herself.

Steve didn't bother trying to stop her. He'd seen her face and he could safely assume that she was telling the truth. Tony's words about her were not going to get into his head...Tony's other words about the Tesseract, however…

Steve started for the hull of the ship.

~ 0 ~

Chloe found Coulson and Thor in the briefing room looking at something on the computers. She soon recognized the picture of Jane Foster on the screen.

"...we moved Jane Foster. We've got an excellent observatory in Traunsee. She was asked to consult there very suddenly yesterday. Handsome fee, private plane, very remote. She'll be safe," Coulson was assuring Thor.

"Thank you," Thor said, "It's no accident Loki taking Erik Selvig. I dread what he plans for him once he's done. Erik is a good man." He met Chloe's gaze and felt for her as well. "The Lady of the stars...she has a better winning chance. She's strong."

Chloe nodded fervently. She had no doubt about Seren's strength. "It's because Seren's strong that I'm worried about what Loki's scepter did to her," she confessed. "How he managed to brainwash her. This isn't the first time we've dealt with brainwashing and Seren's never fallen like that."

"The scepter is embedded with a kind of power that's unique," Thor explained, "But it's not permanent. No brainwashing ever is. We will get her back."

Chloe hoped the same. "Thanks. Seren's sort of like my adopted sister too. Well, she adopted me but you get the idea. She would never hurt a fly and Loki made her shoot at us like she didn't even know us," Chloe said, feeling much more pain than she ever thought she'd feel — an anger that she never really experienced before. "I'm afraid of the reason why Loki took her away."

Thor agreed. Loki was precise and he only took certain people-the scientists, the agents...but a Celessian? That spoke of an army of his own. "I'm sorry," he said, knowing there was nothing else he could do at the moment. "Like I said, we'll find her. I know she kept her word and looked after Jane while I was gone."

Chloe managed to smile a bit. She peered around the Asgardian to see the screen where Jane's picture still was. "Yeah, Seren stayed with Jane and Selvig to continue the Foster Theory. She tried learning about your world too — Asgard? — from her grandmother. You really changed everything around here."

And yet somehow that didn't seem to bring Thor any joy. "They were better as they were," Thor said quietly, turning towards the glass window. "We pretend on Asgard that we're more advanced, but we...we come here battling like Bilchsteim."

Chloe and Coulson were in the same state of confusion.

"I'm sorry, like what?" Coulson asked.

"Bilchsteim? You know; huge, scaly, big antlers. You don't have those?" Thor was met with the same blank expressions. "They are repulsive, and they trample everything in their path. When I first came to earth, Loki's rage followed me here and your people paid the price. And now again. In my youth I courted war."

"War hasn't started yet," Fury walked into the room, "You think you can make Loki tell us what the Tesseract is?"

"I do not know. Loki's mind is far afield, it's not just power he craves, it's vengeance upon me. There's no pain that would prize his need from him."

" A lot of guys think that, until the pain stops."

Thor met Fury's gaze. "What are you asking me to do?"

"I'm asking. What are you prepared to do?"

"Loki is a prisoner."

"Then why do I feel like he's the only person on this boat that wants to be here?"

It was an uncomfortable question that everyone had been asking themselves without the courage to speak it out loud.

~ 0 ~

Night turned into morning and when Fury went to check in on the others in the lab, he found no work to be done. Banner and Tony were just standing there. They were too quiet for Fury's taste.

"What are you doing, Mr. Stark?"

"Uh...kind of been wondering the same thing about you," Tony replied, smiling too tightly as well.

"You're supposed to be locating the Tesseract, in case you forgot."

"We are," assured Banner, "The model's locked and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we'll have the location within half a mile."

"And you'll get your cube back, no muss, no fuss." Tony suddenly looked away to his monitor and after a quick skim, he had a question in line for Fury. "What is PHASE 2?"

Before Fury could answer, if he would even have answered, Steve stormed into the room and dropped an assault rifle on the table with a loud thud. "PHASE 2 is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons!" To say Steve was infuriated would be a deep understatement. It was like finding out everything he fought for didn't even matter in the end. S.H.I.E.L.D. was going ahead to do exactly what he worked so hard to keep away from the world. "Sorry, the computer was moving a little slow," he added for Tony.

Tony would give him the point this time, impressed by the tractics.

"Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract," Fury began to say, "This does not mean that we're…"

"I'm sorry, Nick." Tony moved the computer screen towards Fury so he, as well as everyone else, could see the major plans of weapons they were intending on building wiht the Tesseract's help. "What were you lying?"

"This is why you didn't tell Seren everything," Steve rounded on Fury. "Smart move because there is no way she would've been for this."

"Agent Soul would've done anything if it was required," Fury said, but Steve shook his head.

He came to know Seren, learn about her priorities and her intentions. Nothing about her would ever imply that she'd be for this type of plan. "You would have told her your plans from the start instead of keeping her in the dark," Steve said with all the certainty in the world. "I was wrong, director. The world hasn't changed a bit."

"Did you know about this?" Banner asked Natasha when she, Chloe and Thor walked in.

"What is that?" Chloe pointed to the weapon, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Does it look familiar, Megamind?" Tony's use of his nickname, for the moment, wasn't regarded as Chloe felt the accusation in his tone was far more important.

"Excuse me?"

"She doesn't know," Steve snapped at him but Tony merely hummed to voice his disagreement.

"Doesn't know what?" Chloe looked between them, expecting an answer that was coming much too slowly.

"Phase 2," Banner was the one to answer for her sake and Natasha's.

"What is Phase 2?" Natasha directly looked at Fury. If anyone would have the answers, it was him, but whether he would give the answer was still up in the air.

"PHASE 2 is S.H.I.E.L.D. uses the cube to make weapons," Steve glared at Fury as he answered the question.

"And how did you come across that, exactly?" Natasha lifted an eyebrow at him. She suspected the answer but she would rather hear it out loud that the golden boy had gone lurking through secret rooms. When Steve said nothing, she turned her attention to Banner. "You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?"

A sour smile spread across Banner's face. "I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed."

"Loki's manipulating you!"

"And you've been doing what exactly?"

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction!"

"Because of him," Fury pointed at Thor who was left stunned at how this entire conversation had suddenly steered towards him.

"Me?"

"Not too long ago we had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. Our best agent wasn't able to stop it so we revisited the idea to expand the Avengers Initiative."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet!" Thor argued.

"But you're not the only people out there, are you?" Fury challenged the Asgardian who couldn't answer that. "And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled."

"Like you controlled the cube?" Steve chimed in sourly.

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies," snapped Thor. "It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for a higher form of war."

When the word 'war' was thrown into the conversation, Steve immediately inserted himself. "A higher form?" According to history, there had been no more World Wars and he would really like to keep it like that.

"You forced our hand. We had to come up with something!" Fury kept going despite having everyone against him.

"Nuclear deterrent," Tony said with a frown. "`Cause that always calms everything right down."

Fury side-glanced him at that comment. "Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?"

"I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep—"

"Wait, wait! Hold on!" Tony cut Steve off and glared. "How is this now about me!?"

"I'm sorry, isn't everything!?"

"I thought humans were more evolved than this," remarked Thor amongst the arguments that unfolded between the group.

"Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?" Fury was right on him after that.

"Did you always give your champions such mistrust?"

"YOU'RE NOT MY CHAMPION!"

"Are you boys really that naive? S.H.I.E.L.D monitors potential threats!" Natasha was still going on against Banner.

"And Captain America is on the threat poll?"

"We all are!"

"You're on that list?" Tony nearly laughed at Steve. "Are you above or below angry bees?"

"I swear to God, Stark, one more crack…"

"Shut up!" Chloe snapped at both of them. "Arguing isn't helping anything—"

"Oh Megamind, come off your high horse, will you?"

"You know what?" Chloe turned to Tony, her eyes flashing blue. "The fact you think that I'm the blue cartoon with a big head is rich coming from you of all people!"

As the arguments grew louder and harder, no one realized the sceptor's blue gem glowing magnificently bright.

"You speak of control, yet you court chaos!" Thor was arguing with Fury and had Banner's semi-agreement.

"It's his MO, isn't it? I mean, what are we, a team?" He humorlessly laughed. "No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're—we're a time bomb."

Despite the situation, Fury wasn't throwing any anger towards Banner. It was more weariness and everyone knew why. "You need to step away."

"Why shouldn't they guy let off a little steam?" Tony clapped a hand over Banner's shoulder.

Of all the things going on, Steve couldn't believe that Tony was still going on about bringing the Hulk out. "You know damn well why! Back off!"

"Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me!"

"Guys…" Chloe said as the two got in each other's faces.

"Yeah, big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?"

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…" Tony started listing off with pride. Behind him, Natasha gave an agreeing shrug. That pretty much summed him up alright.

"I know guys with none of that worth ten of you," Steve's tone was low with a new type of anger that Seren hadn't yet seen, and he had grounds for that anger. Tony was proving to be a special situation. "I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"I think I would just cut the wire," Tony said flatly.

A humorless laugh slipped from Steve. "Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero."

"A hero, like you? You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."

Instead of the rightful anger he should feel, Steve smirked. "Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds."

Thor laughed from his spot. "You people are so petty, and tiny."

At this point, Chloe would agree. "We are a terrible combination but we need to put out fires and focus on the bigger one!"

"Yeah, this is a team," Banner muttered.

"Agent Romanoff, Agent Winters, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his—"

Banner cut Fury off in a loud yell. "WHERE? YOU RENTED MY ROOM!"

"The cell was just—"

"IN CASE YOU NEEDED TO KILL ME. BUT YOU CAN'T, I KNOW, I TRIED!" The room fell silent at the admission. Banner swallowed hard as all eyes laid on him. "I got low," he said, explaining slowly. " He stopped, everyone staring at him. "I didn't see an end so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy .out. So I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk. You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?"

Fury and Natasha had silently reached for their respective weapons.

"Doctor Banner, put down the scepter," Steve instructed, not quite ordered. From where he stood, it didn't even look like Banner had realized he picked up the scepter.

Suddenly, the monitor made a noise. The Tesseract had been found. It was enough to make Banner put the scepter down and shift his focus on the Tesseract again. "Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my party trick after all," he muttered.

"You located the Tesseract?" Thor inched forwards but still held caution.

"I can get there faster," Tony said casually as if they hadn't just been in a neck-deep argument.

"Look, all of us—"

"The Tesseract belongs on Asgard, no human is a match for it," Thor interrupted whatever plan Steve had been about to say.

"I think you're right," Chloe's agreement came in quietly and rather slowly, as she was just now realizing. Having the Tesseract was only proving to bring out the worst in everyone. It was horrible.

"You're not going alone!"

Chloe snapped out of her thoughts to see Steve and Tony once again at each other's neck.

Tony had just smacked Steve's hand off his shoulder. "You gonna stop me?"

"Put on the suit, let's find out!"

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man," Tony stepped closer to Steve, facing off.

"Put on the suit!"

"Stop it!" Chloe yelled just before Banner did too.

"Oh my God!" He had spotted something on the monitor and that something created a terrible rumble of explosions.

The room shattered and sent everyone flying into different directions. Steve, Fury, Thor and Tony were lucky enough to have landed across the room, haphazardly near the corridor.

"Put on the suit!" Steve immediately gave the order to Tony and this time, perhaps the only time, Tony didn't disagree.

"Yep!"

They scrambled to get up on their feet. Steve located Fury and Thor not too far from them but he realized that Chloe, Natasha and Banner were nowhere in sight. He panicked.

"Chloe?" He called out and moved about as much as he could around the destroyed room. "Chloe!"

"Hill!?" Fury called through their comms. "What's going on?"

"It's Stardust, sir. She just took out Number 3 engine!"

Steve paused and looked over to Fury. He recognized the alias all too well.

"Turbine's loose. Mostly intact, but it's impossible to get out there and make repairs while we're in the air. We lose one more engine, we won't be. Plus, if Stardust makes another blast, we'll go down. Somebody's got to get her and patch that engine."

Fury nodded at Steve then Tony. "You heard, go!"

"Yeah!" Tony was all for it but Steve was reluctant for many reasons.

First of all, he didn't hear anything from Chloe. She was stuck somewhere below and she wasn't responding. And second of all, engage Seren in a fight? They used to joke all the time about who would win in a fight and that was all it was meant to be: jokes. Never in his life did he want to fight Seren.

"Cap!" Fury called. "You need to go!

"But Chloe—"

"I'm good!" They heard the woman exclaim.

Chloe, Natasha and Banner had plummeted down into the lower equipment rooms. Chloe felt her back aching from the terrible landing but she could move, albeit slowly.

"If Seren's out there, somebody's gotta bring her in before she does something she'll regret!" She called up above. "Steve! Bring her back, please!"

Steve willed himself to stand up for Chloe. She was right. If Tony was going to be preoccupied with the engines, it would be up to him to handle Seren. Steve wasn't sure he could win that fight for many reasons.

#ocappreciation #marvelocsdaily #ocfairygodmother #fd: mcu #fd: marvel #mcu #marvel #steve rogers #avengers #steve rogers fics #steve rogers imagines #avengers fics #mcu fics #mcu imagines #marvel fics #marvel imagines #steve rogers x oc #avengers imagines #oc: Seren Soul #oc: Chloe Winters

[jonny-skaggs-gatewaypersonality1]

Hi!!!! This one will be a bit different from the rest of my [Gateway] repositories. I will PIN/edit this post to tell people about my life, my personality; and much more where it matters the MOST. The rest of the details/DATA based around such will be spread among other posts with images/GIF's of things I love and have interest/passion in/with among text. ┌──────────────── •✧• ────────────────┐

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⋄ There have been many words thrown around about me being a 'pedophile'. This is not true; let me tell you the actual story. During age-17; I met someone whom was a minor just like me. We dated up until my age 18, as I was nearly at that age during that of 17. We did do things; but it was not because I 'wanted to date minors'. Truth be told, I did not know the differences between the morality at the time. During these ages (17/18); I had still been 'fake-moaning' to my friends just to get them to laugh. I was extremely immature, I did WAY WORSE things just for attention.

The nature of this started when I was in Elementary-School (Current hometown). I would do weird things like 'pp helicopter' in the bathrooms for laughs around me. (.-.) It wasn't really my current forte'; but point of the matter is that I was extremely ostracized during the previous hometown where I went to the first year(s) of Elementary-School. No one talked to me, so I picked up sticks/acorns, etc. For fun. None of these things are an excue; but hear me. The moment I was scolded for it, even though I was barely an adult at all; my brain wasn't fully-developed either [As your brain fully develops at age 25+ by average]. However; during the scolding, I shifted into an immediate 'never do (x)' again. Ever since age-18; I did speak to minors for a while longer, but the ACTUAL events that occurred never happened again. (The really bad part of what 'pedophiles' do)....Around age 22-23; I created an 18+ only rule. Ever since then, I have not spoken to minors ever again. Not as friends, even. The reason for this is because I do not think I should be speaking to anyone of underage, especially due to the events at my age 17-18. That said; although I spoke to minors a COUPLE years after; I did not commit any actual unlawful crimes such as physical sexual exploitation EVER during the growing years after 17-18. I learned my lesson in that (1) factor, and since I was extremely premature, it took a while to differentiate between whom I should/shouldn't be speaking to. However; in my opinion I did a very good job since I didn't commit actual pedophile crimes revolving around physical sexual-exploitation, as I learned very quickly after those 2 ages. As-is, 18 is REALLY an adult? (-.-)....

Trust me, it is; but you're missing the whole 'brain-development' thing. Perhaps you should see this: https://www.google.com/search?q=at+what+age+is+a+human+brain+fully+developed&sca_upv=1&iflsig=ANes7DEAAAAAZiBqKwCmVS98n2TicVgwmCSJZq3AfPlj --- 'Mid-to-late'; the start of full brain development being 25 of course, at is the 'mid' in a series of ages ranging from 1-10 within the 20's. I am not a goddamn 35/45-year-old seeking out children to fuck/exploit, you goddamn fucking pricks. I don't even speak to children, and I don't like them. Now LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT. ───────── ⋄ There have also been many accusations of me being a 'rapist'.....this isn't even close to being true whatsoever. Let me tell you the truth; during EACH of these 'rape-accusations', at least when it came from the sources --- there were 2 people that THOUGHT I raped them. Their 'thinking' I raped them was a misconception, here's how it actually played/panned out:

For both females, I was around age 15-16. They thought I raped them because when they had told me to stop, I 'froze' for a couple seconds. LEGIT ONLY A COUPLE GODDAMN FUCKING SECONDS. I kept 'doing' [Which was never penetration]; but regardless of whether it would be rape/molestation, I did neither. I actually stopped BOTH times within about 10-seconds. Why did I 'freeze' up? Well, I was fucking 16 or so, you twits. I was dating these 2 girls basically both times, we were flirting before the events; and when they uttered the word 'stop' and/or words to that demeanor, kid me didn't know how to react. I didn't know why a girl that was flirting with me which I liked didn't want to explore sexuality with me.

But despite how I felt awkward which made me freeze, I only didn't stop for A FEW FUCKING SECONDS. Do you dumb-asses even know what 'rape' is? I'm sorry to say, but rapists usually don't stop after 5-10 seconds. They usually extremely aggressively have full-on sex/assault you until they are satisfied. I did not 'finish' anything; and 5-10 seconds of 'freezing' after being told the word stop was not rape, the fact people call me a rapist over it is fucking horrible. These accusations have literally destroyed my reputation/life. But NEITHER pedophile/rapist claims are true whatsoever. Firstly, they're based on by-gone old dead stories and misinterpretation(s). So i'm gonna make it very easy for everyone with 2 simple statements: 𝗜 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻, 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘄. 𝗜 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲, 𝗜 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗼𝗻 𝗱𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 (𝗜 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁).

──────────────────────────────────────

[whereisten]

Fuchsia-Colored Sunglasses 

Summary:

Your life is turned upside down when you’re transported into another reality by the enigmatic and mysterious old woman named Cyan. You find yourself an up-and-coming makeup artist whose latest client is the cocky fuchsia-haired rockstar Yuta Nakamoto. You struggle to find balance as Yuta is your most difficult client yet and you can’t seem to stop losing things in your apartment.

Meanwhile, Yuta is at the top of his game with his record-breaking band that’s about to tour and his perfect celebrity girlfriend. But he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. When he meets you, however, he finally feels..at home.

In a reality where soulmates so rarely find each other, is it possible that the two of you will see the signs?

Pairing: Rockstar!Yuta x female reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, comedy, a little smut, a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 28.5K

Warnings: profanity, minor character death mention, alcohol mention

(A/N: we are so excited to finally post this for you guys!! It is for a collaborative project (A Colours AU) organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure . THANK YOU so much for inviting us to do this!! Please visit her tumblr for a complete list of all of the amazing works included in this project that we all worked so hard on❤️ with that being said, we hope you enjoy!! Thank you for supporting us!!)

[colours masterlist]: Click here to enjoy several amazing journeys :) 

——————

It really hasn’t been your day. There was just one problem after the other being thrown at you at work. Books often went missing at the library, but today an entire section was missing romance novels and no one seemed to know where they had gone. So you spent hours collecting them from other sections in the library, placing them on your cart as you moved through each lane. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work but for a library with 16 floors, it was just enough to make your head spin. Your day was long and boring.

And now, you learned that your favorite cafe was fresh out of your usual drink, an iced caramel latte, the perfect drink for a pick me up.

fantastic.

A sigh left your lips as you turned around the corner of the bathroom and walked face first into someone.

smack!

You stumbled back and then felt something wet on your clothes. Great.

“I..I’m so sorry about that.”  A lady’s voice caught you off guard as she quickly tried to clean up the situation.  She reached forward and grabbed your hands. A bit weirded out by the situation, you tried to pull your hands away but she didn’t let go, pulling you in closer so she could look into your eyes and capture your full attention.

“Dear, don’t be frightened, my name is Cyan and I am so very sorry...” Her eyes had a mysterious glow about them that you couldn’t understand. She seemed...otherworldly.

“Let me make it up to you.” Cyan said. “Here, pick a colour and you’ll meet your soulmate. However, you should be aware that each colour represents a different reality, and you only have one chance to bring them back to this reality.”

“Really?” you asked, clearly suspicious of the entire situation.

“Yes, now which would you choose?” she asked as she held out the tablet for you to pick a colour. You tilted your head to the side before just agreeing.

You typically liked to lay low, keep things normal and safe for your sanity. And love? Soulmates? Those were concepts that you never really thought too hard about. If it comes, it comes but you weren’t going to go out of your way for it.

But today was unlike any other day, everything went wrong, so what if...you did things differently for once? What if you took the chance to experience something...new? You had nothing left to lose, right?  

You reached forward to choose.

“Fuchsia.”

^_^

You sat at the kitchen table, your Bluetooth speaker playing your favorite song, “Breeze”. It was by the artist Mountain Man, whose identity was a mystery to the entire world. Your roommate Delilah came in to grab some orange juice from the fridge.

Delilah laughed. “I swear I dream of this song from all the times you play it.”

You replied, “This song is a religious experience. You should be so honored to dream of it.” You took a bite of your Fruity Pebbles.

Delilah joined you at the table as she searched something up on her laptop. “Today’s the bid for the Bulbasaur card I’ve had my eye on. I’m so nervous. I can’t go past eight five dollars so let’s hope my competition is just as cheap as I am.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eighty-five dollars for a trading card? Really?”

Deililah shook her head. “Sixty-five dollars for foundation, y/n? Really?”

You shut your mouth and keep eating your cereal. You and your roommate had your impulses...Well, your passions. Besides, an investment in good foundation only made sense given your profession as a makeup artist.

Delilah scrolled through her phone and frowned. “That’s weird. This looks just like your Hermosa Vida palette.”

That was impossible. You had the only one in existence. Last month, at the cosmetics brand launch for Hermosa Vida, you received a limited edition palette from two of your favorite makeup artists, Sol and Luna, who teamed up for their growing cosmetics empire. They gave you the limited edition trial of the palette before the official palette was released in stores. You were so excited to try it out but misplaced it two weeks ago. You knew you had to clean your room more often.

In fact, you’ve misplaced a lot of things recently: a pair of your favorite My Melody socks, a bracelet from your trip to Jamaica last summer, a pair of your reading glasses, and more. You knew people were bound to lose things but it seemed to happen more often to you. You didn’t think much of it as you were busy applying for your new job.

You stood behind Delilah so you could see the palette on sale for yourself. It was shaped like a clam shell and was rose gold. It even had Sol and Luna’s autographs on the bottom.

Just like yours.

You scanned the description of the product to find the username of the seller: 1026you.

“Wait, I thought I was the only one who owned this palette. It doesn’t make sense. If there was more than one of these palettes in existence, then there would be more on sale. But this one...looks exactly like mine,” you said.

“Maybe it’s a knockoff,” Delilah offered, “You know how people will fabricate anything to get extra cash.”

“The thing is...I lost my palette. It’s almost as if…”

Delilah scoffed. “You don’t think someone broke in and stole it?”

You considered it. “I don’t know, Delilah. I’ve been losing a lot of things lately...I think we should install some cameras in here. Just in case.”

Your roommate nodded. “Fine with me. It’ll make us both feel safer.”

So you and Delilah had cameras installed around the apartment. You hoped your first paycheck with your new gig would come in quickly. You contacted the seller and asked about the palette, asking where they’d bought it and how they had access to it. You asked so you could have some sort of proof that it couldn’t be the same as yours. But it looked exactly like yours. And it bothered you. Unfortunately, there was no response from the seller.

A few days after that, your Siamese cat Totoro disappeared. You weren’t too concerned as Totoro was an outdoor cat and he tended to wander. He would return soon, you thought.

^_^

Meanwhile across your hometown of Los Angeles, international rockstar Nakamoto Yuta stood in his bathroom, dumbfounded to find a portrait of a young woman looking over her shoulder.

Yuta said to himself. “Where the hell did this come from?”

His girlfriend Ashley called from the living room. “What’s that, babe?”

Yuta responded, “Nothing, Ash.” He’d rather not freak out his high-maintenance diva girlfriend.

It was strange how random objects kept popping up in his apartment. He asked Ashley about the palette but she denied it was hers. A bracelet appeared on his nightstand a few weeks ago and Ashley denied again, growing suspicious that Yuta was having someone over. But he didn’t owe any explanations to her.

Yuta always came up short with his security footage. There were glitches with the footage. The objects just...appeared from one frame to the next. This had to be some kind of joke.

Seeing a whole portrait pop up in his bathroom of all places was just part of his daily routine now. Guess I’ve got another thing I have to sell online, he thought.

Then again… He looked carefully at the painting. The woman in the painting was stunning. He wondered what her face looked like in reality. Gorgeous, he was sure of it. The woman wore an oval-shaped ruby necklace. The painting gave him both a sense of comfort and excitement. He couldn’t explain this clearly new but somehow familiar feeling. He decided to hold onto the painting for a while. He could always change his mind.

Ashley let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yuta! Get in here!” She sounded scared for her life. Could it have been the people who managed to break in and leave the painting among all of the other random objects? He ran into the living room to find Ashley standing on his plush couch.

“Is that...a cat?!” Ashley hissed as she looked down at a Siamese cat.

The cat watched her from the ground, swaying his tail back and forth. He simply watched her. When the cat saw Yuta, he walked up to him and rubbed himself against Yuta’s legs as he purred.

Yuta crouched down and pet the cat behind his ears. “Hey there, buddy. How did you get in here?”

“Yuta, you went and bought a cat when you know I’m allergic?” Ashley asked as she sneezed.

Yuta sighed. “I swear to you I have no idea how he got in here.” It was possible he ran in when Yuta opened the sliding glass door to his yard.

“Well...” Ashley sneezed as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the multimillion dollar mansion. “You better get rid of that thing if you ever want me to set foot into this house again!”

Ashley slammed the door and Yuta laughed as he sat down on the couch. The cat laid on his lap and pushed his head into Yuta’s hand so that he could pet him.. Yuta brushed his fingers through his fur.

“You know what, I think I’ll keep you.”

^_^

It was your first day of work with the world famous band Skylark. Sky High Entertainment reached out to you when they watched your most popular makeup tutorial. Now, you would be their makeup artist for their future engagements. Your first few weeks would be to assist the band in preparation for their first set of tour dates in Los Angeles for their Heaven on Earth World Tour. You were to meet the group and their team at the Staples Center. You weren’t too familiar with Skylar’s work because you were either fixated on the YouTube MUA community or repeatedly listening to Mountain Man’s music. You arrived early, too excited to start, and the band’s manager Baekhyun Byun told you that you were welcome to watch the group rehearse.

To say that the band was attractive was an understatement. You knew of their names and faces from the occasional Twitter posts. Plus, you had to memorize their names and faces for the job. However, seeing them in person was a whole other experience.

Drummer Johnny Suh’s muscular arms and intensity were reminiscent of Hercules as he twirled one of his drumsticks with ease. Mark Lee was the guitarist, looking like he was about to be cast for the next Spiderman with his sweet and goofy demeanor. He played a random guitar solo with his tongue out to get a reaction out of his cousin Johnny. Dong Sicheng was focused at the keyboard, looking as elegant and regal as a vampire prince. Bassist Jung Jaehyun’s every glance was more seductive than the last as he tuned his bass to perfection.

Last but not least was the frontman with the fuchsia colored mane: Yuta Nakamoto. His walk to the microphone at the center of the stage was unintentionally seductive, considering he was in a black hoodie and sweatpants like the rest of his band. He was at least six feet tall as his long strides made him walk with such grace and elegance. A man that was effortlessly gorgeous was definitely trouble. At this point, your jaw was on the ground. Every man on that stage was a god but Yuta was the frontman for a reason. He was undeniably the cutest of the group. In his all-black attire, he was the emo prince of millions of girl’s dreams: his slender face, his sharp cheekbones, his piercing brown eyes, a smile so bright it could make you go blind, his rockstar piercings which included a navel piercing and caused your thoughts to drift to places that weren’t suitable for the workplace…

From time to time, the band goofed off. Mark made a paper plane from the set list and threw it at Johnny. Jaehyun danced the latest TikTok dance while Sicheng filmed it with his phone. Yuta laughed as he borrowed the keyboard and wrote some notes down in his notebook.

When they got down to business, the boys completely transformed. They channeled angst and heartache when they began rehearsal. You recognized the song as their latest single: “Lost and Found”.

When Yuta sang, goosebumps ran down your back and your stomach twisted. Alarms were ringing in your head but they weren’t out of fear. But out of...excitement? You couldn’t describe this strange sensation.

Yuta transformed into a man who was heartbroken and confused. His voice danced into your ears and hearing it live made the lyrics more meaningful. Every word that left his plump lips lingered in the air. You couldn't get enough and felt your heart squeeze.

Yuta looked out to the audience as he always practiced how he would engage with the crowd. He earned several thumbs up from the staff, as expected. Then he turned to your section and could barely make you out as a silhouette in the darkness.

You saw that he focused on your section as he sang the second verse. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d have to listen to more of Skylark’s music from now on because they were fantastic. And maybe lurk on Yuta’s social media.

After rehearsal ended, Manager Byun introduced you to the rest of the team, including the other makeup artists. He walked you to the dressing room to introduce you to the band. For the first time in years, you were about to freak out like a fangirl.

“Boys, this is y/n. She’s our newest makeup artist. Please, I beg of you, don’t make her run for the hills.” Manager Byun laughed. You hoped he was joking.

The boys greeted you and shook your hand. Johnny was the most outgoing. “Pleasure to meet you, y/n!”

Jaehyun winked at you as he shook your hand. “Hi.”

Winwin gave you a childlike smile. “Thank you for joining us!”

Mark stuttered as he greeted you, “Uh, hi, it’s uh, really nice to meet you.” His cheeks were flushed.

You were overjoyed but knew you had to conceal your excitement. Still, you couldn’t help but hope for Yuta to greet you.

You all turned to Yuta who was busily texting away on his phone in front of his mirror.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yuta, say hi to y/n.”

Then, you noticed he was wearing his AirPods. Johnny tapped him on the shoulder. Yuta looked up at him. “What? I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and now I won’t get it back. Thanks a lot.” Yuta rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone.

Johnny cleared his throat and you could see his smile twitch from his reflection in the mirror. “Say hi to y/n. She’s our new makeup artist,” Johnny said carefully. He sounded a lot less sweet, then.

Yuta sighed. “Fine.”

He got up from his makeup chair and walked up to you. His sour demeanor quickly shifted to bright and breezy. His megawatt smile appeared as he shook hands with you. “Hi, y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

It was insincere and you knew it. You didn’t even bother faking a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

It was the smile you’d seen all too often with celebrities and YouTubers whose egos grew faster than their subscriber count. It was the kind of smile they used to please sponsors and fans. A means to an end.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He quickly turned away and went back to his chair, put his AirPods in, and returned to his phone. You spoke too soon when you thought Yuta was your favorite member.

Mark whispered, “Don’t take it personally, y/n. Yuta is in his own little world most of the time.”

You weren’t surprised. Chances were one of these boys wasn’t what they seemed. You were disappointed it was Yuta, though.

For the most part, your first day went well. Everyone was warm and welcoming. You shared tips with the other makeup artists. But then, they dropped a bomb.

“You’re assigned to Yuta,” Manager Byun told you as you headed down the elevator. You just came back from a break.

You couldn’t control your initial facial expression.

Manager Byun laughed. “He won’t bite.”

You composed yourself. “Oh, I know…”

He understood. “He’s been working on a lot of projects. Some of which I don’t even know the full details of. So I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness.”

You shook your head. “But Manager Byun-”

He raised his hand. “Please, call me Baekhyun. Manager Byun makes me sound like I’m a father of three.”

You laughed. “Okay. Baekhyun, you don’t have to apologize for him. I get it. He’s a workaholic. I’ll gladly be his makeup artist.” It wasn’t like Yuta insulted you. He just wasn’t what you hoped he would be. Plus, you were there for a job and nothing else. So professionalism was always key.

Baekhyun put his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you, y/n. If he gives you trouble at all, the makeup team will make sure Yuta gets the wrong shade of foundation.”

You and the rest of the makeup team headed back to the dressing room where the boys were sitting in their chairs. They needed to get their makeup done for the filming of their tour diaries entry for this week. Yuta was still glued to technology. This time, he was on his laptop, and he was in the middle of producing a track, it seemed.

You gulped and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Naka-” You began.

“Yuta’s fine,” he barked back.

“I have to do your makeup,” you said as you started off with his primer.

“Fine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Make it quick.”

His tone was even crabbier than this morning. You told yourself to keep it together. You wouldn’t let this diva jeopardize your job. He was a challenge and you would overcome this bastard.

Because Yuta was quiet and as still as a statue, doing his makeup wasn’t a problem. You made sure you were swift but neat. You didn’t want to poke the tiger again. All that was left was his eyeliner. You gave him an elegant winged eyeliner for his left eye. You were halfway done with his right eye when he interrupted.

His voice boomed. “Seriously, what part of ‘quick’ don’t you understand?”

He startled you so much that his liner shot straight up to the middle of his forehead.

You bit back your anger and your tears. You said calmly, “I was almost done, Yuta. If you hadn’t startled me for ten more seconds, I would’ve finished.”

Yuta looked in the mirror, his venomous tone matching the anger in his face. “You clearly lack experience if you let one thing I said get to you. Well? Don’t just stand there. Fix it.”

The rest of the staff and the band stood there, stunned to silence. You swallowed your pride and redid the liner on his right eye. He said nothing when you finished. He left the dressing room first.

You turned to everyone else, feeling humiliated and fearing what everyone would say. “Why is it so quiet?”

“Because you didn’t run for the hills,” Sicheng replied, smiling at you in admiration.

“Huh?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected.

Rin, your fellow makeup artist who was working on Jaehyun right beside you, said, “The last makeup artist Lily only lasted a week. Yuta’s been…”

“A stuck up bitch,” Jaehyun finished.

Rin sighed, “His words. Not mine. Before Lily, there was Halle. Halle was Yuta’s makeup artist for three years before she left for another project. Even before Halle left, Yuta was in a mood. No one knows what’s bothering him. He’s not usually-”

“A diva,” Mark added.

Rin applied some setting spray on Jaehyun’s face. “Once again, not my words.”

You worried if you crossed a line by talking back at him like you had. “Was I not supposed to say anything to him when he yelled?”

Everyone laughed. Johnny said, “Are you kidding? We dare you to tell him to stop bitching if he snaps again.”

You thought about it. “I just hope he gets over whatever he’s going through.”

^_^

Days passed and the sixth day of work went just about the same. You were in your element and over the moon with all of the high-end cosmetics at your disposal. Not even your sourpuss of a client could dampen your mood.

During one of your breaks, you sat alone in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms and listened to “Breeze” on your phone as you read some of your emails.

“The breeze made your hair sway. I fell in love that autumn day,” you sang aloud.

Yuta was headed to a meeting with Cartier but at the sound of your voice singing “Breeze”, he froze in his tracks. He pressed his ear against the door of the room you were in. The cracks in your voice were endearing. He smiled to himself.

He peaked through the window and hoped you didn’t notice him. You were seated at the table. Your legs were propped against one of the other swivel chairs. You tapped your fingers against the table. You smiled as you sang. Your smile was lovely. Your eyes were so full of joy and passion as you recited the lyrics, and for the first time, he actually looked at you and took in your features. Your singing voice wasn’t as calm and soothing as your speaking voice, but he still enjoyed hearing you. For the first time in a long time, he felt..something.

Seeing you smile that way made you the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he realized.

He couldn’t believe how much you loved his song. “Breeze” wasn’t doing as well as he hoped. The company CEO thought about scrapping his anonymous side project all together. He didn’t understand. Had he released the song with Skylark or under his own name would “Breeze” have charted better? It pissed him off. He was so proud of his composition. It was the first time he let himself be so raw and vulnerable. Because he wanted this project to be anonymous, he chose not to tell his bandmates or anyone else, really. The couple of staff members who did know were sworn to secrecy. It killed him that he couldn’t vent to anyone.

When the song ended, you said to yourself, “Oh, let’s just play this on a loop.” You played “Breeze” again and stretched your arms.

Seeing you love the song as much as he did made the dark cloud that loomed over his head fade a little. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you, he thought.

^_^

A few more days pass and you and Yuta seem to be getting closer. He’d actually put his phone down when you did his makeup, watching you as you patted his foundation in. For you, it was strange, but for Yuta he was mesmerized.

“I’m bored..let’s play 20 questions.” Yuta said as you spritzed his face with primer water one day.

“Uhhh..okay.” Your brows furrowed.

“Favorite movie, go.” Yuta asked before closing his eyes.

“Uhhh. Titanic?”

“Ew. Okay favorite group?” He smirked.

“Well..it’s not Skylark..” You huffed.

Yuta took in a sharp breath and held your wrist to stop you. “It’s NOT Skylark? Then who is it, who is worthy?” His eyes were intense, like you hurt him deeply.

“Hmmm...One Direction.” You were just messing with him, but you wanted to see his reaction.

He rolled his eyes and let go, leaning back in his chair and rolling his neck. “You can’t be serious...”

“What? They make good music! And isn't it my turn to ask questions now?”

“Shoot.” Yuta closed his eyes so you could do his eye shadow.

“Hmmm..what’s your favorite color?” You started.

“The color of your eyes...”

You froze for a moment, but then chuckled. “Yuta..seriously?”

Yuta’s eyes opened as he laughed. “I’m serious! They’re beautiful.”

You pouted. “I’m done playing this game if you’re gonna mess with me.”

“Are you going to ruin my eyeliner again because you don’t like my compliment?” He let out in a faux British accent and high pitched tone to mimic the queen. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

Yuta smiles widely when he hears your angelic laugh, your eyes crinkling and your cheeks becoming so round and full.

What was this new feeling that he had?

^_^

You’d be working with Skylark for a month now and you were enjoying your time with the team. However, it was pouring for the first time in a month in LA. While you would’ve been happy about it in any other circumstance, you were annoyed and on the verge of freaking out. Your second bus was running late to take you to the arena. You decided not to wait for the bus and make a run for it.

Your umbrella was helpful to a certain extent but you were drenched regardless. The rain continued to pour unforgivingly. When you were preparing to cross the street, a black Mercedes pulled up beside you. The passenger window came down and you recognized Yuta.

He was sitting there, looking amazing as usual. Only this time, his long, neon pink hair was thrown into a bun and he modeled a pair of heart-shaped, fuchsia colored sunglasses to match.

The way he held the wheel with one hand made your heart shudder for some reason.

“Get in!” He said.

You hesitated for a second. However, dryer clothes outweighed your pride at this moment. You hopped in, closed your umbrella, and shut the door.

Yuta grabbed your umbrella and put it in the backseat. “You’re soaked. I’m going to turn up the heat on your seat.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Yuta drove you to work. He was surprised he could recognize you through the pouring rain. He had this inexplicable anxiety when he was at the red light before he saw you. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing okay for the most part. His last song for his first self-titled mini album was almost complete. Ashley was a pain but their respective managers were working towards a day when they could announce their breakup. His band was at the top of their game. His new cat was keeping Ashley away.

So what was this feeling that came out of nowhere?

And how did the feeling disappear just as quickly when you looked him in the eyes?

“Thanks for the ride,” you piped up.

Yuta cleared his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden. Very unlike him. “We’re both headed the same way.” That was Yuta’s attempt at sounding cool. He didn’t realize it could make him sound like a tool, you thought.

There was an awkward silence that suffocated you both. The traffic was unbearable so it looked like you would both be late for work.

Yuta blurted, “I don’t think I’ve said this before but...I’m sorry..”

You turned to him as he stared straight ahead. You were shocked that he was apologizing. You figured this man never apologized for anything, especially when he carried on with you at work like he hadn’t snapped at you on your first day. “Are you?”

He sighed as he slowed down. “Yes. I was a jerk and you were just doing your job. I really have no excuse.”

You replied, “Well, as long as you’re aware. Do you promise to keep the sass to a minimum? Or at least until after I’m done with your makeup?”

Yuta nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

You noted how down Yuta looked. Beneath the hostility and sarcasm, there was frustration and sadness. “I forgive you.”

Yuta smiled. “Thank you.”

Another awkward silence followed. And the rain poured down even harder so Yuta drove even slower. He turned up the radio and you both recognized “Breeze”.

You both sat back and listened to the song in silence. Without you realizing, Yuta snuck glances at you as you hummed and bobbed your head to the beat of the song.

“I love this song,” you blurted.

Yuta smirked. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”

“I would give anything to meet Mountain Man. His music is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. No one knows who he is. His identity is top secret,” you sulk.

Yuta beamed with pride that someone could be a fan of his mysterious persona. Without knowing his face or his true identity. It truly made him feel special.

Yuta bit back a laugh. “I know who he is, actually.” He wondered if he would regret telling you this.

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“I can introduce him to you if you’d like but you have to promise me one thing.” Yuta was elated to see you so thrilled.

“Wait, really?!” You exclaimed as you unconsciously moved closer to him. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Yuta shook his head as he finally turned into the arena parking lot. “When we break for lunch, I’ll take you to him. I’ll call him over.” You gaped. “Oh, you don’t have to. He must be so busy. He doesn’t have time to meet me. I-”

Yuta felt a flash of jealousy over your consideration for someone whose face you didn’t even know (even if it was his other persona). “He won’t mind, I promise. Now promise me one thing when I introduce you.”

“What is it?” You asked cautiously.

Yuta put his car in park. “Promise me you’re free tonight. I need to go over some looks for my concept photos next week. I know it’s after work but I’ll buy dinner.”

Yuta did a full 180 on his personality. You were still recovering from the whiplash. And now he was doing you favors and confiding in you? You were on the fence but if you could meet Mountain Man, surely it would be worth it.

^_^

When it was lunch time, Yuta took you to the conference room. “Take a seat, y/n. Mountain Man just texted me. I’ll bring him in.”

You sat down in your unofficial swivel chair and fought the urge to pick at your nails. You were so nervous. To be in the presence of such talent. To be in the presence of the man who touched your heart with a three minute and fifty five second song. You had no idea what to expect.

Yuta came back quickly. With no one. He looked at you expectantly.

You got up to check if anyone was behind Yuta. “Uh, Yuta?”

“Uh huh?” He asked.

“Where’s Mountain Man?” You frowned.

He threw his arms up. “You’re looking at him.”

You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around your chest in frustration. “Come on.”

Yuta was shocked at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?”

You shook your head. How can such a high-profile celebrity be an anonymous artist?

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re really making a guy work here, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you just release your music with Skylark or under your real name? Why the anonymity?” You asked as you went back to your chair and collected your belongings to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” Yuta pleaded, “I can prove it.”

He offered his notebook to you with lyrics that dated back two years.

“This is your lyric book?” You asked.

Yuta nodded as you flipped through the pages. “Songs I’ve written for Skylark. Songs I’ve written for my solo mini. And songs I’ve written for Mountain Man.”

You sat down and carefully absorbed all of the contests inside. You went to the first pages of the notebook and found the early drafts of “Breeze”, which dated back to a year ago. And right after those lyrics, there were the lyrics for Skylark’s Grammy-nominated song, “Hope and Flame”.

You looked up at him. “You…”

“Yeah,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “If you’re not convinced, I’ll take you to the studio and show you how I’ve used a voice modifier. Plus, you’re looking at lyrics of songs that won’t be released until next year. So if you’re willing to wait until then to see your proof, well…”

Well, he hoped those songs would be released next year. He prayed you would believe him.

You choked. “I...believe you.”

Yuta exclaimed. “Really?”

Yuta was acting very childlike today, you observed. You thought it was kind of cute. He may have dropped one of the biggest secrets in the industry but he was still your moody client.

“I can’t believe…you’re Mountain Man…”

Yuta sat down beside you. “You owe me.”

“After you introduced me to...you?” You laughed in disbelief.

He nodded. “You said you would give anything to meet me.” He was smug as he gave you a knowing look.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”

He replied as he leaned back on the chair. “I’m not. I just thought I might impress you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” You teased.

He leaned closer and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I just wanted to.”

You blushed at his proximity and quickly turned away. “There you go again with the teasing.”

Yuta smiled wide. “So what do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese?”

^_^

You helped Yuta explore a few looks for his upcoming photoshoot before dinner that night.

You were adding some final touches to his heart-shaped lips. “Your lips are so pretty,” you said without realizing.

Yuta knew to hold still but his eyes opened at hearing you say that. You were so caught up in making up his face that you didn’t realize you were thinking out loud. Yuta chose not to bother you. He owed you that much.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, “I gave you a more understated look. More neutral tones in your eyeshadow and highlighter. And I chose a brighter shade of pink for your lips. I get more of a romantic vibe from this look,” you said as you looked at his reflection in the makeup mirror.

Yuta looked straight at you. “I love it.” He was impressed with your careful attention to detail and how natural you made his makeup look. Out of all the makeup artists and stylists he’d worked with, you were the most attentive and cooperative. You always surpassed his vision for his look. You asked him for his opinions in case you needed to change anything. Most of the time, though, he was very satisfied with your work on the first go. You were the best makeup artist he’d worked with, he had to admit.

“You don’t want more eyeliner? What were you thinking with your piercings?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It’s perfect, y/n. Every look you showed me is perfect for the shoot. I just need you to be by my side when it starts. No one else touches this face but you.” Yuta explained with no trace of mockery in his voice.

Yuta was so open with you all of a sudden and all you did was breathe. How was that possible? And you felt a little more intimidated now that you knew that Yuta was behind your favorite artist. You remembered that first and foremost you were his makeup artist so you shoved your confused feelings aside. You would panic when you got home.

Blushing and still processing, you said, “Thank.”

“You?” He finished for you.

You blushed even harder. “Yeah.”

He laughed as you tried to compose yourself.

You removed his makeup so his skin could get a break. “What’s next?”

Yuta sighed. “We’re done, y/n. Let’s order something and I’ll drive you home. It’s late.”

You cleaned up your supplies while Yuta ordered pizza. You both liked extra Mozzarella cheese on top.

“So,” you said, “Can I ask you something?” You’ve been dying to ask him questions for hours but you’ve done so well to hold it in. You figured you’d indulge by asking at least one.

“Yeah?” Yuta sat up straight.

“Did you compose all of Mountain Man’s releases?”

He nodded.

“What instruments do you play?” You dared to ask one more question.

“Guitar, piano, drums, violin,” he said as he got up and grabbed his guitar from his case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have a melody stuck in my head, and I want to see if I can make something out of it.”

Yuta tuned his guitar and hummed to himself. He played a few chords.

“Whoa,” you said. “Just like that?”

He chuckled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You can make something so incredible and unique in an instant?” You asked, clearly in awe.

He shook his head. “I could only get to this point because I practiced every single day in grade school.”

You heard how lonely he sounded, then. “That must have been…”

“A pain in my ass, yeah. I gave up many trips to Chuck E. Cheese just so I could master the piano,” he grumbled.

“And you never gave up on practicing?” You asked, impressed. Had it been you you would’ve given up and found the next hobby.

“My parents pushed me hard from a young age,” he started, “They wanted me to become a world classical musician. Family honor and all.”

“What changed, though? Skylark isn’t exactly classical,” you observed.

Yuta replied, “I didn’t tell my parents but I started a rock band when I was sixteen. Johnny and Jaehyun have been by my side from the very beginning. We rehearsed in Johnny’s garage until we graduated.”

You grinned, just thinking about teenage Yuta rebelling against his family’s wishes. “That’s sweet.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun claimed they joined to meet girls but I knew they loved music just as much as I did. Johnny’s cousin Mark and Mark’s best friend Sicheng joined us a few months later and we were a force of nature. That was our first band name, by the way.”

You bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Force of Nature,” Yuta replied, deadpan. “What’s so funny, y/n?”

You laughed, almost falling over in your seat. “That is so cute. You guys thought you were being edgy.”

Yuta grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at you. “I won’t tolerate mockery from the staff.”

You gasped. “I won’t tolerate a DICKtator.” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at him.

You both laughed so hard. Yuta grabbed an eyeliner pencil you forgot to pack up.

“You know, y/n,” Yuta started as he moved closer to you. “You’re alright.” He took your hand and slipped the eyeliner into it.

“You, too, Nakamoto,” you said, “You’re still paying for the pizza, though.”

Time passed as you two talked about your childhoods, your hobbies, and all about Skylark and Mountain Man.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and learn the guitar,” you said as Yuta mindlessly strummed his guitar and produced heavenly melodies.

Yuta innocently offered, “I can teach you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “In exchange for?”

He laughed warmly. “Nothing. Come over here and sit down.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch so you could join him.

You sat down and he placed his acoustic guitar over you. He moved closer to you, moving his arms over you. You could feel his chest against your back. He radiated warmth and your throat almost went dry.

Yuta took your left hand. “Now...you’re going to place your fingers up here. These are called the frets. I already tuned the guitar, okay?” His voice was very close to your ear and for a moment, you held your breath.

He took your right hand and placed it on the body of the guitar. “Let’s try an A chord.” His deep voice lowered even more and you felt your face heat up.

He took your left fingers and adjusted their positions. Never letting go of your hands, he instructed you to strum the guitar.

The chord sounded more beautiful than you’d expected it to be. “Whoa.”

“Nice,” Yuta said, “Then again, I did most of the work.”

You turned your head to him and his face was mere centimeters away from yours. “You are so-”

Yuta moved even closer. “Finish your sentence, y/n. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”

You retreated. “Irritating.”

Yuta’s phone rang. The pizza arrived and you two fought over the last slice.  He was ridiculous, considering he ate four slices to your three. It was only fair you’d eat the last slice. Yuta got creative and used a plastic knife to cut the last slice in half. You accepted but you were determined to get your revenge.

Yuta drove you home. The night was calm, and the traffic was light.

“You live pretty far if you’re walking to the arena for work, y/n,” Yuta said as he pulled up in front of your building.

“I take two buses. Normally, it’s not a problem. It was complicated today because of the rain,” you said.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to get a massive flood,” he said, “It’s very unlike LA.”

You nodded as you took off your seatbelt. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yuta smiled and tipped his imaginary hat. “Thank you for your help tonight.” His smile was at its most radiant, then.

^_^

You wake up the next morning thankful for the weekend but a little sad that…Wait a minute.

You didn’t miss Yuta, you told yourself. The boy gave you whiplash and you were only beginning to get to know him. You had time to do some cleaning around the apartment. Maybe you could find a lot of your missing stuff so you could put that eBay account out of your mind.

It was already 2 PM and you couldn’t find the palette, your primary concern. You sighed. You looked around your spotless room and found some solace in the fact that it was clean and organized. Tidying up was its own therapy.

You called your mom and asked her about her day. You went through your jewelry box.

Your mom chattered on, excited like a schoolgirl, “Anyways y/n, Fred wanted to take me to a costume party tonight so I wanted to know...Do you think the black flapper dress would be better than the mod dress?” Fred was her serious boyfriend of three years. You had a feeling that he would propose anytime now and you were happy for them.

That good feeling quickly dissipated. “Oh, no.” Your most prized possession was missing. You knew it was missing because you always kept it in your jewelry box.

“y/n? Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asked over the line.

You couldn’t tell your mom that your grandmother’s ruby necklace was missing. “Yeah, sorry mom, it’s nothing. I got a little dramatic. Ran out of whipped cream for my sundae.” You lied.

You finished your conversation with your mom. You had no choice but to log onto eBay again. You searched 1026you and your suspicions were confirmed.

Your grandmother’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom was for sale. For one hundred dollars. It was a priceless heirloom that was worth at least ten times as much. You clenched your fists. “Son of a bitch.”

You messaged the seller again but knew he would never answer you. He’s ignored your other messages so what made you think he would respond to this one? You read through the site’s terms and conditions and there was no way to contest that the item was yours. You noticed that the item was up for bid and the bid would end in…

Ten minutes.

The current bid was at $100.

You scoffed. “Why the hell do I have to bid on an item that’s mine?”

You swallowed your pride and prayed that no one else would bid higher.

You placed a bid for $101.

Right away, someone else bid higher. $102.

This went on and on until your competition outbid you and won the necklace for $127.

“Son of a bitch!” You cursed again.

You sent 1026you ten consecutive messages telling them that they stole your necklace and begged them to respond as soon as possible. You knew it was hopeless.

^_^

You knocked on Yangyang’s door. He lived a few doors down from you and Delilah. You used to babysit him when you were in high school and college. Yangyang was a child prodigy, having graduated from MIT with a master’s in computer science at age sixteen. His parents still needed you to babysit when he was acing Physics at age ten. He always insisted he didn’t need a babysitter but you two developed a bond. It was to both of your surprise that he became your neighbor. He had a side hustle as a hacker. You hoped he could help you track down 1026you so you can give him a piece of your mind.

He opened the door. “y/n, what’s up?” He smiled wide. He still had that boyish wonder in his eyes.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started.

“Not at all, come in,” he moved to the side so you could walk into his messy apartment. Video games were scattered all over his living room floor. He was in the middle of eating a bowl of ramen.

“Yangyang, I know I’ve been relieved from my babysitting duties for a while now but...ramen is not a proper meal,” you said.

“Shut up.” Yangyang laughed. “I’ll grill some meat later. Don’t worry.”

You laughed as you sat at his kitchen table. He gave you a can of Pepsi, knowing it was your favorite. “I need a favor, actually.”

Yangyang rejoiced. “At long last, you need my help. Never thought the day would come. You never let me help you with precalculus, even though you definitely needed it.”

Ignoring his roast for once, you responded, “Well...I need your hacking expertise. I know that this is going to sound crazy but...someone has been stealing things from my apartment and selling them online.”

Yangyang’s smile faded. “What the hell? So that’s why you installed security cameras at your place.”

“I didn’t get into it because I thought I was crazy but my grandmother’s necklace is missing and it’s one of a kind. And now…” You showed him the item that was sold.

“That’s your necklace,” Yangyang replied in shock. He recognized it from having known you for so long. You wore it on rare occasions like birthday parties. You preferred not to be photographed with it because you wanted to preserve it and keep it secret from strangers and acquaintances. You never knew who you could trust.

“Can you help me track down the seller?”

“y/n, that goes against eBay’s terms and conditions,” he replied.

You sighed. “I know but-”

Yangyang chuckled mischievously. “This should be fun.”

Yangyang worked magic on his computer to track down 1026you’s location. He was in Los Angeles, to your surprise. “Can’t get you the seller’s name but will an address do?”

“It’s perfect,” you said.

^_^

Yuta woke up from a nap on the couch. Totoro was sleeping on his stomach. He chuckled as he pet him. Yuta’s phone rang, indicating a notification. He checked his phone and saw that the ruby necklace he put on sale was sold to the highest bidder at the deadline. He also saw a bunch of messages from one account claiming he stole the necklace and he’d better respond to her.

“Crazy,” Yuta said as he ignored the messages.

^_^

“What do you think I should use for today’s luxurious bath, Totoro? The  ‘Cotton Candy’ bath bomb or the ‘Madly In Love’ bath bomb?” Yuta carefully picked Totoro up from his lap and placed him on the cold marble floor before standing up and stretching.

Totoro let out a loud “meow” and walked away from Yuta.

“I completely agree.”

Yuta threw his shirt off and headed to his bathroom, but he jumped once he opened the door. He had completely forgotten about the beautiful portrait that leaned against the counter. He stopped and tilted his head, really taking in the depth of color in the painting. He gazed at the stunning profile of the woman and the necklace she had on. He couldn’t understand how he had this undying urge to remember a memory he never had, to remember the moment he met this strange woman from the portrait.

He shook his head and started to run water for his bath, oblivious to the eyes that watched him through the small opening of the door.

^_^

You watched a shirtless Yuta stare at something for a few seconds. You couldn’t see what it was, but you really didn’t care, for Yuta’s abs were the real star of the show. Your mouth fell open, your heart started to race. Yuta was perfect in every way, and the twinkling piercing in his navel was the cherry on top.

But...wait.

You had to remember why you were here. Yangyang’s research found that this was the address of the person that was selling your precious necklace so you had to work fast. You already got lucky when you found a window in a first floor bedroom that was open.

You were shocked to see that it was Yuta’s house that you would have to break into, but once again, you just had to get your priceless possession.

Was Yuta messing with you? How could he do this and when could he do this? When would he have had time to sneak into your place and steal your necklace? Or was it his girlfriend?

Yuta shook his head before turning it to the side slightly. You jumped out of sight by moving to the side quickly. He interrupted your thoughts, but you had to get moving before he got out of the shower.

You looked around his enormous mansion, heading for what seemed to be his bedroom, for it was the biggest one at the top of the grand staircase.

Surely, there had to be an explanation for how your possession became his possession. Nonetheless, you were pissed that he decided to ignore your message and proceed to sell it. How could he steal something so meaningful to you then sell it? It’s not like he needed the money.

You looked on top of the California King-sized bed and then under it to see if you could just catch a glimpse of the shimmering ruby stone. But you found nothing. You then looked at his black dresser before stopping to gaze at his extensive earring collection. It was incredible.

A case full of hundreds if not thousands of earrings and jewelry stood beside the dresser. Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. What if he stole jewelry? No-no, you shook your head at the absurd thought. This man had way too much money.

Then you heard him singing in the bathroom beside his bedroom. But his voice grew louder as he exited and entered the hallway to make his way to his room.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Your heart started to race. You're just moments from being caught so you look back to the dresser and spot it.

Your necklace.

It’s next to the small brown bag that it would have been sent in today, but you grabbed it just in the nick of time.

“BABAY!! Why DON’T YOU JUST MEET ME IN THE MIDDLEEE??” Yuta sang in the hallway and thanks to his boastful voice and the large ceilings that allowed for a beautiful echo, you heard him when he was just about to enter. You quickly dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.

You covered your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. He was pacing about, walking to and from his closet.

“Nah, don’t like this…” he threw a flannel onto the bed. He went into his closet and grabbed a black T-shirt, the 56th black T-shirt in his collection, to be exact.

“Nice.” Yuta continued to hum while spritzing on some cologne.

Yuta smelled amazing, like vanilla and roses, but you couldn’t help but be worried that you would be late for work if you couldn’t get out of his house right NOW.

“Hey, babe..” You heard a female voice say. It was his girlfriend. “Damn it,” you mouthed. Ashley was known for being one of the most gorgeous celebrities alive today. She had the perfect face with a dazzling smile to match, but rumor had it that she was a complete bitch behind closed doors.

You heard Yuta sigh and you could almost feel his eye roll. He was thinking of how much he hated himself for ever giving her a key to his house.

“What’s up, Ash?” He spoke to her like he was being forced to communicate with an Uber driver.

“Oh, don’t sound so excited to see me…” Ashley responded. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Yuta was fixing his earrings onto his ears when she embraced him. He looked at her through the mirror in front of them and gave a look of annoyance when she tilted her head to lock eyes with him.

“So...where were you yesterday? You missed our dinner date at the Venetian...Do you know how much it cost me to lose that reservation AND call off the paps?”

“I’m sure you can afford it.” Yuta walked away from her and looked at the dresser with a puzzled expression. Something’s missing, he thought.

You watched Yuta’s footsteps as he hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on into his closet.

Your eyes grew. Did Yuta really blow off his date at the most expensive restaurant in the city to be with you? He ditched $1,000 caviar and steak just to eat $12 pizza with you?

“You really like making me beg, don’t you, Mr. Nakamoto?” Her voice lowered as she leaned against the dresser and watched Yuta put his socks on.

“Where were you, daddy?”

Yuta hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the fact that she thought he had to report his movements to her. She acted like she had to know everything that went on in his life. She was overstepping and Yuta wasn’t about to fall for it.

So he decided to piss her off.

“I was with..the new girl.”

Ashley stood up straight and crossed her arms. You nearly yelped out under the bed and revealed yourself.

“Who’s the ‘new girl’?” Ashley asked and you could just hear the fire in her tone. Even Charizard would be jealous.

“The new makeup artist..she’s sweet, I bought us food and we talked.” Yuta smirked and walked closer to Ashley who didn’t even try to hide her jealousy. Her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.

“I taught her how to play the guitar...she’s lovely, really. We had a great time.” Yuta was definitely twisting the knife and you couldn’t tell if he spoke of you fondly just to piss her off, or if he genuinely meant it. Either way, his words filled your chest with butterflies, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yuta...baby, you missed our date at THE Venetian to spend it with some talentless random who probably has a failing Youtube channel?” Ashley pouted. “Let me show you what’s lovely, Mr. Nakamoto.”

Yuta was about to protest, but Ashley held his chin and tilted it down towards her before placing a kiss on his lips.

The sound echoed in the large room and made you roll your eyes. She insulted you without having met you? What a bitch, you thought. No wonder Yuta was miserable.

She then took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing his chest lightly so he’d sit on the soft surface. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands along his thighs.

Oh no...please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. You squeezed your eyes tightly and prayed that Yuta would tell her to wait until later.

Yuta huffed and puffed but indulged her, allowing her to have her way because he just couldn’t be bothered. She unbuckled his belt while looking into his low eyes.

“You’re stressed, baby, that’s why you spent time with a total stranger. But don’t forget you have me.” Ashley licked her lips before taking his pant zipper in between her teeth and dragging it down.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Mr. Nakamoto.” Ashley kissed his pelvis. She was too busy to see Yuta cringe at the name she called him. God, did it feel weird.

“Just...m-make it quick. I have to go.” Yuta licked his lips, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Shit. You mouthed again. You were about to hear the most disturbing sounds of your life and there was nothing you could do, nowhere that you could go. Could you sneak out on the other side without them noticing? Shit shit shit shit.

Ashley sneezed before she could place her mouth on Yuta again.

Yuta looked down in annoyance.

She quickly swiped at her nose then retook her position.

She puckered her lips to lay a kiss on his growing bulge, but she sneezed again.

Several more sneezes followed and Yuta was getting frustrated. He slowly became turned off.

“Damn it, do you still have that ugly cat? I’m suffering here!” She yelled before laying out four back-to-back sneezes.

“So am I.. I gotta go, Ashley.” Yuta rolled his eyes and stood up. He brushed past her, where she still knelt on the floor, and walked towards the dresser.

“Make yourself useful and mail this-” Yuta’s sentence trailed when he didn't see the necklace. The brown envelope was there but the necklace was no longer beside it. “What the hell, I could’ve sworn...”

He looked into the brown bag then onto the floor and the rest of the dresser. Sure enough, the necklace was gone. “So it disappears just as quickly as it appeared? Shit.”

Your brows furrowed. What did he mean by “appeared?”

“Have you seen-?” Yuta was about to ask.

But suddenly, your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You quickly reached towards it to silence it so it would no longer make that grinding sound while shaking on the floor.

Luckily, Ashley was still sneezing so it covered up the sound..or so you thought.

“What was that?” Yuta turned and looked about the room for the source of the sound.

Ashley finally stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll just drive with you to work! We can finish what we started...” She gave him a wink before sniffling.

Yuta grimaced and grabbed his keys, brushing past her once again to head out the door.. “Whatever you say, Ash.”

Ashley practically skipped behind him. Finally, the room was empty. You swiftly dragged yourself from under the bed and stood up.

You heard them argue downstairs so you decided that you would climb out from the patio attached to Yuta’s room. Yangyang made sure to deactivate Yuta’s entire security system, including his cameras, so you could enter and leave without detection.

You took a deep breath before jumping from the porch and into the bushes below it. You tried not to scream as loudly as you wanted to. How you didn’t break your legs, you weren’t sure, but you were somehow able to leap back onto your feet and book it for the main road, sliding through the gate while Yuta and his girlfriend waited for the garage door to open so they could drive out.

By the time you got to work, you were covered in sweat, leaves, and dirt. You smelled and looked like you had been camping for at least 23 days in the Appalachian mountains, but it didn’t matter. You finally had your necklace.

“You good, y/n?” Manager Byun gave you a puzzled expression as you hurriedly took your tools out of your kit and placed them on the vanity for Yuta. You were somehow able to get there just minutes before him.

“I’m okay! Had a slightly...difficult time getting here, but I’m ready!” You gave him a smile so forced, you thought your face would be stuck like that forever.

He nodded slowly but still looked confused.

Just then, Yuta entered. His smile was bright and so beautiful. You melted like chocolate in his sunny smile when his eyes were glued to yours as he entered.

But your feelings of admiration soon dissipated when you saw his girlfriend behind him. She held up a compact mirror and was fixing her lipstick as she walked in.

I guess they did finish what they started...

Your smile fell. You didn’t know why you were sad and disappointed. It’s not like your one night with Yuta actually meant anything. He had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend. A celebrity girlfriend that was just listed as the person with the second most beautiful face in the world, behind Zendaya of course. Yuta was lucky, there’s no way he’d drop her for you.

You looked away as he walked over. He could feel a shift in your mood immediately. Your eyes were so big and bright when he entered and now you shifted your focus to organizing your makeup and covering a look of sadness that he could clearly see.

Yuta said ‘hi’ to everyone but stepped quickly over to you.

“Hey...y/n...it's nice to see you again.” Yuta gave you a half smile that really tugged at your heartstrings. How could he manage to make you so weak?

“Hey, Yuta.” You gave a short answer, and he could tell you were upset. You weren't nearly as cheerful as you were yesterday. Then..he noticed how disheveled you were.

His face became serious. He touched your arm and it felt like sparks dancing along your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly while the other members and the manager went about their business.

You tried to avoid his magnetic gaze, but couldn't.

Your mouth opened as you looked into his eyes. “I’m-”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, are you the new makeup girl?” Ashley pushed herself in between you and Yuta and obnoxiously smiled in your face to push you further away from Yuta.

“Yes.” You pucker your lips and glance at Yuta who looked beyond annoyed.

“Well, you certainly don’t look like a makeup artist..” Ashley chuckled.

You scoffed. “What?”

“I mean, look at your nails.. Are you sure you want to touch my boyfriend's perfect face when you’ve got an entire ecosystem under your nail bed?” She grabbed your hand without warning and held it up for both you and Yuta to see the dirt that had gotten under your nails when you had jumped off of his patio and held on to the ground for support. You were running late so you didn’t get a chance to go to the restroom to clean up, but of course you would wash your hands before touching his face.

“I-” you started, but she interrupted you once again.

“That’s not very professional of you...”

“Ashley! Stop, don’t you have a photo shoot to get to?” Yuta took your hand from her and lowered it to your side, but he didn’t let it go. He stood beside you and looked onto Ashley with disappointment. Your heart became warm as he squeezed your hand to let you know that he had your back.

Ashley chuckled. “People come and go pretty fast here sweetie..let’s see how long you last.” She rolled her eyes before pushing herself in between the two of you, breaking off your linked hands in the process. How could someone so beautiful also be so ugly?

“I’m so sorry about her.” Yuta turned to you.

You nodded. “She’s right. It's very unprofessional of me to come to work like this.”

Yuta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, y/n. Things happen..Let me show you where the shower is.”

^_^

Yuta led you to the locker room where the shower was. He handed you a tshirt and sweatpants that he had asked the manager to keep in a locker for him just in case he needed to change after sweating too much.

“Why are you dating someone so...mean?” You asked while you followed Yuta. You didn’t think twice about your question, and really, you had no right to ask him. He was just your client, not your friend.

Yuta chuckled. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “I smell some jealousy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty or whatever, but trust me I am not jealous. I just don’t understand how you could be with someone like that..”

“I’m not a saint either, y/n..we’re perfect for each other..or at least our agencies think so.” Yuta paused. He wondered if he should let you in on yet another secret, but he didn’t notice that his eyes had trailed to your lips, adoring the way they formed a small pout.

You laughed. “You have a point, you weren’t exactly the nicest to me when I first started working for you...”

Yuta grinned when he saw your bright smile and your doe eyes as you laughed again. You were like a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. His spirit was instantly drawn to you, for you calmed him. You were just a stranger yet you felt like home.

“I’ll make it up to you...How about I teach you more about the guitar after the shoot?” He stepped closer, anxiously awaiting your approval like a boy that just asked his crush to prom.

You started to blush, his face was so close to yours, you had to look into his eyes.

You took in a sharp breath. “Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with that? I don’t want you to stand her up again, she’ll probably stab me with an eyeliner pencil.”

“Again?” Yuta’s brows bunched together, but he still gave a teasing smile.

sHIT.

“O-oh i mean, surely you’ve stood her up at some point, right? She’s a total b-”

Yuta burst out into laughter.

You looked at him with worry on your face. “W-what did I do?”

“You’re adorable, but I just can’t take it anymore.” Yuta reached his hand out to the side of your face and gently removed a long vine that was tangled in your hair. He then removed a large, green leaf that stuck out of your disheveled do.

He calmed down. “There we go..much better. Even nature loves your beautiful face.”

Beautiful face.

Your heart began to race for the third time in one day. Too much was happening, you thought you would pass out. Did Yuta really just say that you were beautiful?

He cleared his throat when he realized that the words he was thinking actually came out while the two of you stood awkwardly in the locker room.

“Yuta?”

He smiled, just the sound of you saying his name made him weak for some reason, what was happening to him?

“What?”

“You’re staring..” you chuckled.

“I’m getting inspired.” he gazed at your eyes then your lips as he spoke in a softer tone.

“By what?” You tilted your head.

“By you.”

“Mountain Man, you really have a way with words, I bet you say that to all your groupies.” You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking towards the shower.

He spun around and grabbed your hand. Your breath hitched when you turned to look at him, his full lips parted and eyes begging for something.

“I...have to tell you something..”

He looked so serious for once.

“Ashley and I are in a fake relationship. It’s all a publicity stunt that our labels set up. I don’t love her...But I’m telling you because I feel like..I can really talk to you.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Yuta.” you gave a small smile. “I’m just your makeup artist, but if you want to talk to me, I don’t see why not. You’ve already told me two major secrets.”

Yuta laughed out at your response, a strand of his beautiful fuchsia hair falling into his forehead, making him look even more handsome than he did before.

He stepped closer.

“Wash up quickly, for me..the shoot starts soon.”

Yuta winked and walked away leaving you a blushing mess.

“Also, remember we have a guitar lesson later.”

For me.

Why did he have to say it like that? Wait, why were you even affected by that? Could your heart calm down when you were around him for more than five seconds?

^_^

You walked into the dressing room in your new comfy outfit and headed straight for your section. The sweatpants Yuta gave you didn’t have pockets, so you had to wear the necklace around your neck. You tucked it under your shirt to make sure that no one would see it on you.

“Wow, I wish I was wearing that instead of leather pants right now...” Johnny pouted when he saw you in Yuta’s Nike sweats.

“You look great! Always remember, beauty is pain,” you gave him a wink and continued to place your tools in order.

“You must be in pain all the time then, y/n.” Yuta exclaimed as he approached his seat.

Everyone in the dressing room let out ‘oooooo’s’ like primary school students.

You blushed but turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see. “Always teasing me, I swear one day you’re gonna pay.”

“Can’t wait for that day.” Yuta relaxed into the chair.

You leaned forward and started to place the concealer under his eyes with a small brush. You took your time and blended carefully, but felt your face become hot when you realized that he was staring at you intensely.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stepped back to laugh and shook your head.

“What’s wrong? Am I making you flustered?” Yuta smirked.

You rolled your eyes then leaned in towards his face. He suddenly sat up straighter, moving forward so that his lips would be just a few centimeters away from yours.

“Stop teasing me. We don’t have time.” You blushed once again and stepped back.

Yuta bit his lips and chuckled. “Oh, so demanding.”

You were doing his eyeliner when you tugged at the collar of the men’s shirt. It was choking you slightly because it was higher than a regular T-shirt. That’s when your necklace popped up and rested on top of the shirt instead of under it.

“Wait...where did you get that?” Yuta leaned back.

“What?” You narrowed your brow, for you didn’t understand why his demeanor became so serious.

“That necklace...”

Shit.

“Did you steal that..from me?”

Then it all clicked for Yuta. You were in his house. You eavesdropped on his and Ashley’s conversation. That’s how you knew that he stood her up the night before. And that’s why you came to work all sweaty and out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” You backed away from him, but he stood up quickly and snatched the necklace from your neck furiously. The sound of the chain breaking frightened you and you became just as furious. This bastard had no idea what he had just done.

“Yuta!”

Everyone turned to you two once your voice rose.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!” You demanded.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he examined the necklace, the shape and cut of the ruby stone and the unique gold chain that it hung on.

He compared the necklace to the picture he posted on his eBay account, and sure enough, it was the same necklace.

“You stole this from my house! You stole from me! I thought I could trust you! What are you, some crazy stalker?!”

“Wait, you’re user 1026you! You’re the crazy one! You stole from me so that you can sell MY jewelry online! You also stole my limited edition eyeshadow palette!” Your voices escalated and everyone else in the room became quiet.

“This crazy bitch! Why the hell would I steal from someone like you?” Yuta gave you a look of disgust and looked down on you like you were a poor dog. You really hated his guts now. He towered over you as he yelled, but you weren’t scared. You were just angry that he had the audacity to lie in front of everyone like this.

“I can’t steal something that was already mine!”

“It was never yours! It was in MY house, and I have the proof right here!” He held up his phone as Manager Byun walked over.

“What’s going on here?” The manager was both puzzled and surprised that you were in a yelling match with the member that no one dared to fight.

“This delusional girl that you decided to hire is a stalker! She broke into my house and stole my necklace.”

“YOUR necklace? You’ve really lost your mind! You stole it from me first.” You shouted back.

“Okay, okay everyone calm down. y/n.. Did you break into Yuta’s house?” the manager turned to you.

“No-I mean, yes, but only because he was going to sell it and it’s precious to me. He ignored my messages and blocked me on eBay before I could explain!”

“You broke into my client’s house?” Baekhyun gaped.

“She sure as hell did. Security!! She tricked me and got close to me just so she could steal from me and learn my secrets. How much were you gonna sell this for, huh? But the worst part is that I trusted you like a fool,” Yuta stepped forward as he spewed hateful and untrue words.

Your eyes started to water, you struggled to hold back tears. “Yuta, you know that’s not true. The necklace was never yours! It belonged to my grandmother and means so much to me.”

“Prove it.” Yuta was angry beyond words, he felt betrayed.

You struggled to think of any way to prove that it was yours. The security guards took your arms and placed them behind your back while pulling you away and out of the room.

The only thing that could prove that the necklace was yours would be the painting that your grandmother made of you when you wore the necklace. The painting that you just now realized had also gone missing.

“No! Don’t do this! I’m not a stalker.” You struggled to stay still as the guards dragged you out.

“She’s delusional! How could you hire someone like that? She put me in danger!” Yuta marched off to the bathroom so he could cool down.

“Yuta-wait. y/n...We will be pressing charges, I’m calling the police.” Manager Byun pulled out his phone.

^_^

A few hours passed and the news broke of what happened.

Crazy Stalker poses as Makeup Artist to Break into Yuta Nakamoto’s home!

BREAKING: MUGSHOT OF DELUSIONAL STALKER OF YUTA NAKAMOTO RELEASED

How did she pull off the perfect plan and is Yuta Nakamoto in danger?

You sat on the bench in your cold cell and wiped your eyes. Everything went bad so quickly. Yuta and basically the entire world thought you were a stalker and there was nothing you could do to prove your innocence. Yuta had the audacity to accuse you of stealing something that was never his to begin with.

And now, you could hear his fans chanting hurtful messages.

“She’s a crazy stalker, We will protect Yuta!”

“Yuta, we love you!”

“SHE DOESN’T DESERVE FREEDOM”

You were so confused, but the part that hurt the most was that your most prized possession was gone and probably in the air on some shipping company's airplane being delivered to some oblivious buyer.

What could you possibly do to make everything right at this point?

Yuta, on the other hand, was at home being coddled by his oh so caring girlfriend.

He laid down on his plush, velvet couch and pouted.

“It’s gonna be okay, Yuta. I swear we’ll get the best lawyers. She’ll never see another day outside!” Ashley got up from the couch and paced about.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”

But Yuta disagreed. He never had a bad feeling about you. He thought you were sweet and kind, he thought everything about you was genuine especially when compared to the fakeness that surrounded him in his lifestyle. How could he have been fooled like this?

He told you two major secrets and now he’d probably have to drop the charges in exchange for your silence.

You really got to him because you seemed to be the biggest fan of Mountain Man, you seemed to appreciate his hard work, but now he didn’t think any of your praises were genuine. He couldn’t even go on social media. All the hashtags were ALWAYSHEREFORYUTA, WEWILLPROTECTYUTA, CRAZYSTALKER.

And they just reminded him of how weak he became.

“LOOK! TMZ just got her mugshot! I’m so happy they’re exposing this bitch, I hope they release her address and family information.”

Ashley smirked when she pulled up the picture of your mugshot on Yuta’s phone.

“Ashley...you need to leave...” Yuta sat up on the couch and looked at the floor. He couldn’t take anymore of Ashley’s annoying voice and he really wanted to be alone to relax and decompress after what happened.

“Oh, my poor little meow meow, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Ashley sat back down on the couch beside him and tried to take his jaw in her hands but he backed away.

“Not now, Ash..I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ashley scoffed and slowly got up from the couch.

“Okay...let me know if you need anything.”

Yuta breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the front door close. He could hear tons of fans outside of his front gate cheering for him when she opened the door and it made him sick. He doesn’t feel proud. Because the truth is, the necklace wasn’t his. It just “appeared.” But here he was defending his possession of it and it didn’t feel right.

Yuta bit his lips then looked down at his phone which was still open with the article that included your mugshot.

He looked away at first, but then looked back down when something caught his eye. He looked more closely at the photo.

Your eyes.

He’d seen them before. Of course he had, but this time..they were different. They reminded him of something, someone.

The color of your cheeks and the depth of your beautiful eyes, the tone of your gorgeous soft skin and the curve of your lips. He had seen it before.

It took him a moment to realize.

The painting.

You were the woman in the painting that found itself in his bathroom. You were the same woman that wore a necklace just like the one he sold.

He looked over the messages you sent him on his seller account. It was like clockwork, every time something appeared in his house and he posted it online, you would message him about it to ask that he return it.

She was telling the truth. Yuta thinks to himself. He could punch himself right now. He was so rude to you for no reason. It was your stuff that kept popping up in his house and he didn’t understand why, but he knew that you were innocent. The painting was huge so it’s not like you placed it there by yourself to mess with him.

He threw on his jean jacket and headed out the door to go to the police station.

He had to fight through the screaming fans outside of the station that were waiting for a chance to attack you, the police officers gathering around him to move him through the hectic crowd.

Once inside, he went to the front desk and immediately told the officer that he wanted to drop all charges against you.

“You’re one lucky girl...” The officer said as she opened the gate of your cell.

“What?” You looked up at her questioningly and stood up from the wooden bench that had made your butt sore.

“He’s here for you..you know, the good looking rocker dude.” She unlocks your handcuffs and walks you out of the cell.

You’re relieved but can’t seem to smile, what’s going on?

Yuta was signing paperwork as you walked up to him.

“Yuta..you asshole.”

“That’s no way to speak to the man that just got your ass out.” Yuta looked up and sighed.

You scoffed. “You’re the one that put me in there! And I’m supposed to thank you?” You pushed past him and headed for the door. You started to walk down the stairs, but you were quickly stopped by the officers that stood out front.

“What the-“ you started when you saw the enormous crowd outside of the station. They were Yuta’s fans and paparazzi. They rapidly snapped so many pictures of you, you had to close your eyes and cover your face, the flashing lights being all too much for you. All you could hear were the thunderous ‘boo’s’ of Yuta’s fans.

Yuta was used to noise and flashing bright lights so he quickly came up behind you and turned you around. He held your head and pressed it onto his chest lightly.

You started to cry when you heard the names everyone was calling you over a simple misunderstanding. How could you be a ‘normal’ person after all this? All you wanted was your necklace and now you were overwhelmed by this new and unwelcoming spotlight.

“Shhh..don’t cry, it’ll be okay..I got you.” Yuta whispered into your ear as he patted your head softly.

You relaxed into him more, enjoying the comfort of his broad chest.

“Put your arms around my neck. Just trust me, okay?” Yuta’s soft tone made you shudder even though you still hated him.

But you did as he instructed.

He then picked up your legs and held you in his arms bridal style. The fans roared even louder but Yuta ignored them. He marched down the stairs towards his car while police blocked them from the two of you. He was able to lay you down on the backseat of his Range Rover before jumping into the front seat and speeding away from the madness.

Once the two of you were somewhat safe and far from the police station and his fans, Yuta exhaled.

He turned to look at you when he got to a red light. You were huddled up with your back facing him while you laid down on the surprisingly comfortable backseat. You had stopped crying, but you were still angry.

“Listen, I’m just as frustrated as you are. But we need to talk about this. What the hell is going on?” Yuta let out.

“I don’t know, maybe we should’ve talked before you had security take me away. Then all of this shit wouldn’t have happened. Oh and frustrated?” You scoffed.

“Did you just spend over 8 hours in a cold prison cell for stealing a necklace that belonged to you in the first place?!”

“You’re the one that broke into my house! Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried to message you but you insisted on being a jerk to make quick cash off of someone else’s belongings.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Have you seen this shit? Your girlfriend just had a press conference and is calling for all makeup brands and agencies to swear to never hire me! I hate you, I can’t believe you put me in jail and essentially, ended my whole career!”

Yuta sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am, don’t look at social media right now, and your career isn’t over, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“How did you find out the truth anyway?” You asked.

“I recognized you in the painting, you had the necklace on.”

“The painting? Wait, you have that too?” Your eyes widened.

“Yes, and I was stupid to not realize it was you sooner. I—was an idiot, y/n. I hope you can forgive me. As a matter of fact, you can expose me as the Mountain Man if you want, you can expose everything.” Yuta was genuinely sorry for what he put you through. The whole world knew who you were now. You were famous, but not in a good way. Yuta had millions of fans and you were pretty sure you were the second most hated person in the world on twitter right now, behind Donald Trump of course.

“Yuta...I don’t want to get even with you, I want my life back.” You closed your eyes and started to drift off into a deep sleep while he drove.

Yuta cursed himself, he felt a bond being created with you and now he ruined it. And he had to admit that he had started to admire the woman in the painting, the woman he wanted to know even though his soul felt he already knew her. And now, the beautiful woman was right next to him, and yet, so far away.

^_^

When you got back to Yuta’s place, you entered through the garage so no one could see you get out of his car.

Yuta took you to his security room where he could watch footage from all of the cameras inside and outside of his house.

He reached for your hand to guide you through the large mansion, but you didn’t take it this time.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Explain to me why you keep taking my stuff.”

“I don’t take anything. It just..appears.” Yuta walked quickly to the room.

“I'm gonna prove it to you right now.”

Yuta pulls up footage from the night the painting appeared in his bathroom, but every time he fast forwards to the exact moment that the painting appears, the footage cuts out.

“Did you see that? The second that my camera cuts to black is the moment that the painting just magically appears.”

You blink rapidly. “Play it again.”

Yuta replays it and you both watch the unexplainable. Chills run down your spine as you are creeped all the way out.

“I’ll show you the night your necklace popped up in my kitchen.”

It felt like you were watching something from Paranormal Activity and although you were a big fan of horror movies, you sure didn’t like being in one.

The same thing happened. There is a second of footage that is cut out and right after, the footage plays again with the new item in frame. It didn’t make any sense.

Yuta looked at you as you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of what he saw.

You were so beautiful, your long lashes batting slowly, your pursed lips and cute nose. Why was he so drawn to you? The magnetic pull he felt towards you became even stronger now that he knew you were the woman in the painting.

“Where is it now, Yuta?”

“Where’s what?” Yuta was only thinking about your face. For a moment, he forgot what you were even doing there.

“The necklace.” Your doe eyes shifted upwards to his.

Yuta sighed and looked away to the floor. “I—was upset, so I already sent it to the buyer.”

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Yuta...we have to get it back, you don’t..you don’t understand.”

“They won’t give it back to me, y/n. They already know that I’m the user that sold it, it’ll be even more valuable now.”

“But it’s priceless to me, Yuta!” You yelled before tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n..” Yuta stepped forward to hug you, and you let him. His arms held you tightly. “We’ll work this out, I’ll get it back if it means that much to you.”

“My grandmother was a painter, she’s the one that created that painting for me. She was the best..” you sniffled as you rested your head on his chest again.

“She was the one that taught me about creativity, color and believing in your art.. she’s the one I looked up to when I was growing up. I spent most of my time with her when my parents would fight..which was pretty often.”

Yuta smoothed your hair as you spoke.

“But one day, she lit a candle..she forgot to blow it out before falling asleep on her couch and a fire started to spread..”

“y/n..I’m so sorry.”

“The oil paintings allowed for the fire to become huge and made it impossible for her to escape..she died before firefighters could get to her, the only thing that survived the fire was that necklace. She held onto it..for me. She said she would give it to me one day when I was old enough.” You sobbed once more.

“y/n..I promise you I will do everything I can to get it back.”

You sniffled then looked up at Yuta. “Please, Yuta.”

He nodded. “ I promise.”

Just then you felt something walk between your ankles. When you looked down, you were startled to see your cat, Totoro.

“What the hell? Why do you have my cat? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, but he’s old and just kinda does what he wants.” Totoro’s abrupt entrance makes you stop crying.

“What? YOUR cat? He’s in my house, he’s mine now.” Yuta says sternly.

God, why was he so possessive?  

You looked back up at him and pushed his chest away, you suddenly remembered the kind of man Yuta was.

“He’s MY cat, you fool. You didn’t even raise him. You probably lured him in here by giving him food!” You picked Totoro up.

You still hated Yuta, however, it was like a weight had been lifted once you told him about the significance of the necklace.

You turned to leave Yuta’s place through the back entrance you entered through.

“Prove it, prove he’s yours, what’s his name?” Yuta looked hurt that you were taking Totoro away from him.

“It’s Totoro, bitch.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking straight-faced with your cat in hand.

Yuta’s eyes grew, he was left speechless.

The two of you finally got to the garage.

You turned to him.

“You owe me a ride home, and after that, I never want to see you again.”

^_^

Yuta drove you back to your apartment, apologizing multiple times. This day he apologized more times than he has ever apologized for anything in his life. It had to be some sort of record.

You were tired because this truly had been one of the longest days of your life. You wanted a warm shower and to hug Totoro to sleep.

Yuta parked his car in front of your building and turned to look at you. “y/n...”

“Thanks for the ride back,” you muttered as you and Totoro walked back to your apartment.

You looked so dejected and devoid of any emotion. This entire misunderstanding did a number on you. And it was his fault. He had to act fast if he was going to make this up to you.

Little did you know that a pair of serpentine eyes watched you from across the parking lot. Ashley laid low in a car she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in and watched her man drive that freak home. That was when she saw that you were carrying that mangy cat in your arms.

“So it was her cat?” She asked herself. She pulled out her phone as she took pictures of you leaving Yuta’s car and pictures of Yuta’s license plate.

Once you were out of sight, Yuta just idled there. For a little too long. It drove Ashley crazy. How could Yuta be so kind to this nobody? After everything you did?

You were inferior to her in every way, Ashley thought. Yuta was a fool for looking at anyone but her. She had to do something so you could be out of the picture forever.

She would be damned if Yuta left her for an unemployed, disgraced nobody. Ashley pitied you because she wasn’t finished with her reign of terror on you. Not by a long shot.

^_^

A few days have passed since your name became the most searched on all social media platforms. You prayed something juicier could distract the public so you could become insignificant again.

A news article came out that Yuta dropped the charges against you and that you were innocent. Unfortunately, the deranged and delusional members of the public (aka the Yutastans) already made up their mind about you. And today, shit hit the fan once again.

Delilah sat with you on the couch as you binge watched Riverdale. It cheered you up to roast the show with your best friend. Things almost seemed like they hadn’t changed.

Delilah checked her phone and nearly choked on her glass of water.

“What is it?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

Delilah set her glass down as she stared at her phone. “That’s our apartment complex. Fuck.”

“Delilah, what’s wrong?” You had a bad feeling.

“y/n, it’s going to be okay. We will get through this,” she began and you motioned for her to hand you her phone.

Delilah reluctantly handed it to you as you read the article on her phone.

Yuta Nakamoto’s Crazy Stalker Is Actually His Side Chick?

That was the headline and your heart plummeted. There were pictures of you holding Totoro as you got out of Yuta’s car when he brought you home.

“What the hell,” you started, “Who took these?” You demanded.

Someone knocked at your door and you shrunk into the couch. Delilah looked at you in concern and she went to answer the door. You both feared who it could be.

She checked the peephole and exhaled. “It’s Yangyang.”

She opened the door and Yangyang ran in. “y/n, are you okay? I saw-“

Shutting the door. Delilah raised her hand up to stop him. “We just saw the article.”

Yangyang cursed. “Someone leaked those photos to the paparazzi. I‘ll help you track down who did this, y/n.”

You sat there in silence. What could you say? What was the point? It was your word against the public who never believed in you. Not only do they think you stole things from Yuta but they now considered you a homewrecker.

And it was only a matter of time before your home address was leaked.

Delilah and Yangyang looked at each other in concern. Delilah deliberated. “She came home with Totoro that day. It was last Thursday. Around...4 PM?”

Yangyang nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s been a while since I’ve hacked into the complex’s security footage.”

That got a reaction out of you. “You mean you’ve done this before?”

Yangyang smiled wide, happy to see you react to that. “Someone paid me a hefty sum to catch their cheating husband in his shenanigans. I use my powers for good. You know this.”

Delilah scoffed. “You are such a little weirdo.”

He rolled his eyes at the word “little”. He typed away at his keyboard. He chuckled. “Amateurs. They changed one number in their password. Lazy.”

Yangyang navigated through the parking lot security footage. Based off of the angle of which the photo was shot, he was able to pinpoint where the culprit was hiding.

“A 2019 Lexus,” Yangyang said, “License plate ASHL3Y.”

Delilah let out a sarcastic laugh. “Golly gee, whoever could that be...”

You got up from the couch and checked the footage with Yangyang. “I believe it. She hated me even before she met me.”

“She’s the crazy stalker, if you ask me,” Yangyang said.

You sighed. “What will it take for her to leave me alone?”

Your phone rang. It was an unknown number and you chose to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably a Yutastan who was going to cast some sort of evil spell on you.

Then, immediately you got a text.

Answer the phone. Unless you want an angry mob to break into your apartment tomorrow. -kiss emoji-

^_^

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Ashley started. “Can I offer you a glass of lemonade? Some Brie and crackers?”

In Ashley’s penthouse suite, you sat with her in the living room. She sat across from you in a leather loveseat while you sat in a massive L-shaped leather sofa.

“What the hell do you want? You want to throw it in my face that you ruined my life and put not only my life in danger but my friends’ and family’s lives in danger, too?” You snapped.

Ashley laughed. Her voice was as irritating as that of any early 2000s socialite. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one knows about your family. Your friends at the complex are safe with some of my best security guards.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“None of this would’ve happened if you knew your place and left my Yuta alone,” she said, “So, how long?” She demanded.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“How long have you two been screwing around behind my back?” She asked.

It was your turn to bust out laughing. You almost cried. “I helped him with his shoot last Wednesday night. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Yuta was when he gave me one guitar lesson. He drove me home twice. Once from work and the second from when he picked me up from my jail cell. It was the least he could do after selling my stuff and oh...I don’t know...SENDING ME TO JAIL.“

Ashley didn’t believe you. “Right. Well, whatever happened between you two...It ends now. Or else I will keep making your life a living hell and destroy the lives of everyone around you.”

“Ashley, the last thing I want to do is see Yuta. I want to be a makeup artist and go back to the life I had before I met him.” Damn the connection you thought you two had. It would surely fade as quickly as it appeared.

Ashley began, “Which is why I have an opportunity for you.”

You frowned. “What?”

Ashley filed her nails as she spoke to you. “Timothée Chalamet’s new horror film begins production next month in Paris. There is an opening for the makeup team, y/n.”

You coughed. “What are you-“

She interrupted you, “Take the job and your name will be cleared. Your friends and family will be safe. Your dreams of becoming a successful makeup artist will come true...”

You knew she wasn’t finished so you waited for her to continue. She was so melodramatic.

“In return, you never come back to LA and leave Yuta alone forever,” Ashley said.

“I’ll have to come back to the city. You can’t ban me from visiting...That is, if I take the job,” you deliberated.

Ashley scoffed. “If?”

You sighed. “Ashley, LA is my home. It’s a big city.” You figured there had to be a way to compromise.

But you realized you were dealing with an unhinged diva.

Ashley said, “It’s a big city, sure. But as of now, every single person knows you as Yuta’s crazy stalker. It will stay that way if you don’t take this opportunity.”

You kept your mouth shut.

“I think I’m being pretty generous, all things considered,” she said as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “You would be stupid to turn this down. Want to stay a jobless pariah? Be my guest.”

Your hands were tied. As much as you despised Ashley for making things so much worse for you, she had the answer to your problems. And since you were done with Yuta, agreeing to never see him again didn’t even feel like a big price to pay. And Timothée Chalamet was a mega Hollywood Star. Participating in his film would surely open doors for you. If Ashley kept her word to clear your name. And Paris? You’ve dreamed of going to Paris for years. Your grandmother told you incredible stories of when she studied abroad and lived there for a few years. It was a chance to be closer to her. The sightseeing and the art were enough to make you giddy.

You refused to let this girl drag your name through the mud and jeopardize your loved ones’ lives because they were associated with you. It wasn’t right. This way, everyone could win.

“Okay, you win,” you said.

“Actually, y/n, we both win,” she said as she clinked her glass of champagne at you and drank from it.

^_^

Ashley’s driver took you back to the apartment. When you unlocked the door to your place, you were shocked to see Yuta seated on the couch with Totoro on his lap.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

Yuta shrugged. “You break into my house. I figured it’s only fair I break into yours.”

You sighed as you took your shoes off as you sat beside Yuta. Naturally, Totoro left Yuta’s lap to greet you.

He nodded. “Delilah let me in. I had to check up on you.”

Yuta kept in touch with your best friend without your knowledge. You realized that now. You’d have to talk to her about that later.

“Well, that’s nice and all but you have to leave,” you said as you averted your gaze from him.

Yuta ignored you. “Where did you go? I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I…went to an interview,” you said. There was no way you’d tell him about your meeting with Ashley. He had the mind to intervene and you didn’t want things to escalate any further.

He stared at you in disbelief. “What? For another job? y/n, I told you that you could come back to work with us.”

You shook your head. “If I so much as go to the same supermarket as you, there will be a bounty for my head.”

He shook his head. “The charges have been dropped, y/n. What happened today was…”

“The second of many hits to my career if we don’t stop this now,” you said.

Yuta replied, “y/n-“

“Which brings me to this…Did you get my necklace back?” You asked. If he said no, then you had the ammunition to kick him out. If he somehow got your necklace back…you would have to get even meaner.

Yuta’s face fell. “No, y/n…I reached out to the buyer and they haven’t responded.” He wondered if the buyer already sold it for more or if the buyer was biding his time to ask Yuta for money. “I traced the buyer’s address but they disappeared without a trace. I am so sorry.”

You sighed. “Okay.” You got up from the sofa and headed for the door. “Then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” You opened it and motioned for him to leave.

Yuta got up from the couch. “y/n, please we can fix this. As crazy as this sounds, I think I’m falling-“

You stopped him. ���Yuta, we can’t. You need to go. You can’t get caught in this complex again. For your safety. And if you care at all about mine.”

Yuta froze. “I will do everything I can to clear your name. Please give me time.”

You couldn’t respond to his sweet voice. You had to resist. As much as you denied it, you felt something for Yuta. From the moment you heard his song “Breeze”, you connected with him before you even met him. His hard work, his talent, his sense of humor, his admiration of your work, his way with words with you before everything went to shit, even the way Totoro gravitated towards him. There was something special about him. Given other circumstances, you would’ve considered exploring a friendship with him. But even that was out of the question. “Goodbye, Yuta.”

He slowly walked out the door and looked back at you. His captivating brown eyes trying to pull you in again but this time, they were full of hurt and longing.

You shut the door, not waiting for him to walk away.

^_^

A couple of days have passed as Yuta reached out to multiple media outlets to clear your name. He admitted that he accidentally sold your necklace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t explain exactly how he’d come into possession of your necklace. So he said the best thing he could come up with: a family friend bought it at a garage sale and thought he might like to have it. Yuta started the account 1026you to sell the items he found around his home in order to raise funds for the LA LGBT Center. Aside from his regular donations from his earnings, Yuta thought he could sell your stuff to make some extra cash for the organization. Had he known that these random items belonged to you he wouldn’t have done that. Which begged the question:

How is it that you lived all the way across town and your stuff just magically appeared in his house? And why?

It seemed like some kind of divine intervention, if anyone asked him. For you two were connected and he only wanted to grow closer to you.

Except now he couldn’t. He failed to get your necklace. You were still blacklisted no matter what he said to multiple companies. He was thankful that you were still able to get an interview like you told him. He wondered if that company hired you. He hoped you were doing well.

Rehearsals for Skylark’s LA shows were still underway. Lily was rehired and Yuta apologized to her for being so rude. The dressing room wasn’t as lighthearted as it’d been when you were around. It was a short time that you were there but he missed you so much.

With Yuta’s heartache, he used music as an outlet. He thought about the night he first taught you how to play the guitar. There was one melody that lingered in his mind every day since. Now he took his time to work the song out of his mind. It was a song that you inspired him to write and he knew it was his best work. He hoped he could play it for you soon.

Yuta missed Totoro’s presence in his home. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until he lost you and your cat. Ashley popped in every day, insisting she stay over. So he begged his sister Suzuka to let him babysit her cat Thorn. Yuta claimed it was out of his hands to babysit Thorn so Ashley stayed less frequently.

Yuta drank a cup of green tea at his kitchen island. He had the day off before his solo press conference. His management wanted him to promote his album but he would also take the opportunity to clear your name.

He pleaded with his agency to let him cut ties with Ashley but Ashley’s agency wouldn’t budge. If Yuta broke up with Ashley, then Ashley’s agency would cut ties with Sky High Entertainment.

He hoped to convince Ashley to cut ties with him today. It was almost as if she was avoiding the conversation as the minute she came in, she ran into the bathroom to take a bubble bath.

“Yuta! Can you be a doll and rub this shower gel on my back?” She asked suggestively.

Yuta knew she was trying to get him in bed so he wouldn’t be able to think straight. These days Ashley seemed more repulsive than usual. Yuta was getting tired.

“No!” Yuta yelled outside the door. “When you finish up, meet me in the living room.”

She didn’t respond right away. She lowered her voice. “Okay…”

Another hour went by and Yuta still waited in the living room. Ashley was avoiding him. He was fed up and he went to look for her. Surely, she’d be out of the bath now. She couldn’t afford to let her skin prune for that long.

He overheard her laughing in his bedroom. “I gotta tell you, Melissa. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I picked her up from that ghetto apartment complex.”

Melissa laughed over the phone. Yuta recognized those nails on a chalkboard from whenever his band had a fan meeting. Melissa Lee, his fanclub president. Yuta frowned and tiptoed as quietly as he could.

Ashley continued, “All I had to do was offer her a job in Paris. Frankly, I’m being way too nice for my own good.”

Melissa replied, “Well, at least you got her out of Yuta’s perfectly shampooed hair.”

“That I did. So when are you going to post the YutAsh tribute video to your website?” Ashley asked as she fell onto Yuta’s bed.

Paris? What the hell did Ashley do?

He remembered how you were unaccounted for that day he went to see you. She said you had an interview. It was interesting how this interview fell on the exact same day those photos of you leaving his car were leaked. Who followed you two that day?

Of course, it was Ashley. Yuta realized how stupid he’d been. She’d basically conspired against you right under his nose. And he was furious.

But he had to be strategic. There was only one way he wanted to take Ashley down. And it would be in the way that hurt most.

^_^

Yuta’s press conference was at The Grove. Hundreds of fans were lined up from the night before. The media was in a frenzy. Your members and team were also in attendance so this was the talk of the town.

The announcer called you in. “Ladies and gentleman: Yuta Nakamoto.”

Yuta, in a gray custom-made business suit, radiated elegance and lethality, which many of his fans said was his unique charm.

Yuta got up to the podium and adjusted the microphone as he spoke into it. “Hello, I’m here to announce the release date of my first solo mini album.”

The crowd roared while the cameras flashed. There was a lot of talking from the journalists in the front.

He smirked. He was ready to give them something to talk about.

“The album comes out July 15th. Ashley and I have been fake dating and I’m here to say that it’s over.”

The crowd was in an uproar. The press yelled out questions. Yuta’s team was full of mixed reactions. His bandmates cheered and laughed. Baekhyun looked panicked. The company executives looked paler than they’ve ever been.

Ashley, who couldn’t have been more obvious as she gossiped with Melissa, almost fell over in her Jimmy Choos.

Yuta laughed. “I’ll take a few questions.” He pointed to a representative from Teen Scene Weekly.

“Yuta, is your breakup with Ashley because of y/n?” They asked.

Yuta sighed. “First off, Ashley and I dated to strengthen our respective companies. We were friends. We had a good time. For a while now, I’ve wanted to cut ties with her but out of respect for my company, I held on a little longer…However, after I politely asked for a breakup, I was denied. Now tell me…do you think that’s fair? After everything Skylark has given to the company? That we get used this way? I’m fed up with it.”

Yuta knew he only had a minute at most before he was pulled off the stage. Ashley yelled out, “Yuta, please stop!”

He continued, “Which brings me to y/n. She never did anything wrong. As I have gone on record to say twenty times in the past week, she never stole from me. She lost her necklace along with other possessions. Friends and family got these possessions for me from garage sales. That’s all I know. y/n is innocent. I made a huge mistake by having her arrested. She is an excellent makeup artist. One of the best in the business. I should know because I’ve been in this industry for seven years now. So if you’ve blacklisted her, then the joke’s on you. Because she has more talent than most of your employed artists ever hope to have. Lastly, to answer your question…y/n is not the other woman. She never was. I started falling for her but I never acted on it. Until now.”

The crowd was in a frenzy. A lot of the fans were crying and it made Yuta wonder if he had any true fans at all. If they cared so much about who he dated, then they didn’t see him as anything else other than their property.

Skylark’s security guards went to pull Yuta off the stage but he walked out on his own with his hands up in surrender. The guards escorted him to his car.

Yuta got into the driver’s seat and nearly screamed at seeing Ashley in the passenger seat.

“What the fuck?” He demanded.

“I had extra copies of your car keys made,” she said like she knit him a pair of mittens.

“Get out,” Yuta said with clenched teeth.

“You ruined me, Mr. Nakamoto. How are you going to make it up to me?” She asked. Her eyeliner ran down her cheeks. Her critically acclaimed face made her look like the wicked witch from Snow White.

Yuta laughed humorlessly. “I don’t owe you anything, Ash. You ruined y/n’s life and pushed her away from me. You knew I never loved you so why? Why keep this charade up?”

“We need each other We are perfect together. With your music and your bone structure and my beauty and me being a triple threat, we would be unstoppable. We can only help each other. Why can’t you see that?” She traced her fingers over his chest.

“I’ve heard enough. Please leave before I call security,” Yuta said in a low voice.

“Security?” Ashley scoffed. “Fuck off. No one calls security on me.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, already having dialed Tom, one of the security guards. “Yeah, Yuta?” He asked.

“Come back. Ashley broke into my car,” Yuta said quickly.

Ashley grabbed his phone. “Yuta! What have you done?”

Yuta sighed. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He unlocked the door as the guards came running over to pull Ashley out of the car. She put up a good fight but the guards successful got her out.

She yelled out, “Well, you’re too late! Her flight to Paris leaves in a couple of hours.”

Thankful that Ashley always had a big mouth, Yuta backed away from the scene and raced to the airport.

^_^

You were on the plane, happy to have the row to yourself. You had to find some joy somehow. It wasn’t like you were being exiled from your hometown.

Totoro stayed with your mom. Once the shoot finished, you would get him back so you can relocate from LA. It still hurt to leave everyone.

Yangyang and Delilah agreed to move in together so he could save on rent and she wouldn’t have to pay for the apartment by herself. But you had a feeling there was something they weren’t telling you. You couldn’t wait for updates from both of them.

In a matter of eleven hours, you would be at the Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to embark on a new chapter in your life. You put your earbuds in and put your music on shuffle. The first song from the shuffle was ironically “Your Type” by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song about unrequited love and you were tempted to skip. Instead, you chose to wallow.

As much as you suppressed it, a part of you held onto thoughts of Yuta. Losing your possessions and finding them in Yuta’s place. You were both confused. Part of you wondered if there was something paranormal about it all. Maybe paranormal wasn’t the right word. Maybe…something magical?

Even so, too much damage had been done for you two to return to the friendship you had for a such a short but sweet time. And Ashley drove an even larger wedge between you two by threatening you. As much as Yuta frustrated you with everything else, you were even more frustrated that he was still with her. If it was fake, why did he keep it up? Didn’t he want to be with someone he loved?

Well, it wasn’t your problem. He was a big boy. He should be able to handle problems like this since he talked such a big game all the time.

So irritating, you thought, but also irritatingly cute.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a commotion on the plane.

“Sir, your seat is in 5A. Come back here!” A flight attendant yelled.

“y/n!” Yuta yelled as he ran down the aisle looking for you. He wore a large beanie and sunglasses so no one could recognize him.

The passengers looked alarmed at the disguised man yelling frantically. Yuta realized screaming wouldn’t help his case so he scoped out for you.

And then he saw you.

Your face was made up but you still looked like you lost many hours of sleep the past few nights. But still, you were the most stunning creature he’d ever laid his eyes on. Your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept. Your lips slightly parted and Yuta bit his lip.

The flight attendant caught up to him. “Sir-“

Yuta raised his finger and nodded towards you.

The flight attendant calmed down. “You’re assigned to 5A. Why are you all the way back here?”

“Can I switch with whoever is supposed to sit here?” He asked.

The attendant frowned. “Why would you want to-“

“Please,” Yuta pleaded, “Sitting towards the front freaks me out.”

The attendant sighed. “Well, sir, you’re the last one on the plane so that seat appears to be available. Go ahead.”

Yuta smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

The attendant was stunned and she had a feeling she recognized him. She shrugged it off and resumed her duties to get everyone situated on the plane.

Yuta exhaled in relief as he sat beside you. You looked so cute curled up in your chair but also very uncomfortable. He was tempted to offer you his shoulder but that would ruin the surprise.

Half an hour went by and you turned to your right to see the seat had been occupied by someone in glasses and a beanie. So much for having the row to yourself, you thought.

The stranger beside you said, “Morning, sleepyhead.”

You frowned as you opened your eyes more. “Hi…?”

But when you sat up, you saw his piercings and the curve of his lips. “Yuta?” You whisper-yelled.

He flashed his perfect set of teeth at you as he lowered his glasses. “Hey.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What are you-“

Yuta shrugged casually. “I felt like a trip to Paris.”

“Right…Who told you?” You asked. You dropped your defenses. For now.

“Surprisingly, it was Ashley. She may be a schemer but she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed.”

You looked at him, noticing how disheveled he looked. He was soaked in sweat. He must have ran through the airport to catch this flight.

“Why are you so sweaty?” You asked.

“I ran,” Yuta said as he realized he must have looked as gross as he felt. And taking off his beanie was almost out of the question since his fuchsia hair dye made him stick out like a sore thumb.

You felt for him so you pulled some wipes from your bag and gave them to him. “That beanie looks uncomfortable so take this.” You handed him a cap instead. It was a Dodgers cap.

“Thanks,” Yuta said as he swapped the beanie for his hat and cleaned himself up.

“Well, good night again,” you said as you turned to the window and shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked. He mistook your acts for kindness for wanting to talk to him.

“We’re done here, aren’t we?” You asked. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“y/n, I…You can’t move to Paris,” he started.

“I accepted the position, Yuta. I can’t go back from an obligation.” You turned away from him and stared out the window. The attendants were giving their airplane safety spiel. You know you were about to ascend. “Unless you have a schedule in Paris, then you should leave. Before you’re stuck on this flight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be, y/n,” he said softly.

His voice sent shivers down your spine but you pushed your feelings down. You couldn’t let him get to you. “You hurt me.” You let it out. Maybe if you kept this up, he would leave you alone.

Yuta sighed. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

Upon hearing him apologize, you perked up but you chose to keep your back turned.

Yuta went on to say, “I screwed up. Getting you arrested, fired, and hated by everyone. I screwed up even more by selling your grandma’s necklace. And I hate that I couldn’t get it back. More than anything. I know what Ashley did to you. It was wrong of her. She had no right. I finally broke up with her. In front of everyone.”

You turned to him, worried about the repercussions of the break up. “By everyone, you don’t mean…”

“At my press conference…”

You put a hand to your mouth in shock. “Ashley must be furious.” What did this mean for you now? What if Ashley retracted the offer and then you were truly left without a job or a home?

Yuta chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about that witch.”

You shook your head. “If you broke up with her, then she’s on the warpath.”

Yuta replied, “She’ll find another big name to terrorize soon enough. I’m close to contract termination anyway.”

You gaped. “What?”

“At the conference, I told everyone that Ashley and I were a fake couple. I broke up with her and then…I told everyone how I felt about you. I really like you, y/n,” He turned bashful, putting his hands in pant pockets.

“Yuta, are you crazy?”

He didn’t expect that response.

“How could you jeopardize your career for me? You barely even know me. Sure, we shared pizza and…we had a moment when you taught me guitar…But that’s not enough reason to put everything on the line.”

“y/n, you don’t understand. I feel like we really know each other. I can’t explain it,” he said, “Why do you think it is that your stuff kept popping up at my place? There’s some sort of cosmic connection between us. That’s not something we can ignore.”

He thought the same way you had about the things you lost and later found. But you were scared. Ashley made you a human target and you knew you could end this stress by leaving. You didn’t want to jeopardize anyone you loved.

You didn’t even want to jeopardize Yuta. Especially since he just risked his entire career for you.

“Yuta, we can’t. Being with me will ruin your career,” you said. The plane started moving across the tarmac.

“y/n…”

Now you two were stuck on the plane. You weren’t planning to budge and you prayed that when you landed in Paris that Yuta would catch the next flight back to LA.

Hours passed. You were so exhausted that you nearly fell asleep the entire plane ride.

Apparently, so was Yuta. You woke up finding yourself leaning against his shoulder and his neck was nuzzled against the top of your head. He still smelled like roses and vanilla, even after working up a sweat to get onto the plane. He was a fool, you thought to yourself.

But you were an even bigger fool because you didn’t remove yourself from him.

The pilot announced overhead, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paris. Bienvenue à Paris.”

You realized you’d been awake too long and hadn’t moved away quickly. You felt Yuta move so you pretended to have just woken up from the announcement. You quickly pulled away from him. Yuta rubbed his neck and watched you.

You left the plane with Yuta trailing behind you. You picked up your bags at baggage claim. Yuta grabbed one of your bags.

“Yuta, it’s fine. I have this,” you said as you pointed to the luggage cart.

Yuta relented and helped you put your bags on the cart.

He followed you to the arrivals section where drivers had their posters with the names of people they were picking up. You saw your name and identified yourself with the driver. The driver helped you with your luggage.

“Bye, Yuta,” you said quickly, not about to linger. You turned away when he took your hand.

“y/n, please…” He begged.

“Take care, okay?” You said as you pulled your hand away and caught up with your driver.

Heartbroken but unrelenting, Yuta was about to follow you when someone pulled his hat off.

“Oh my God, it’s Yuta! C’est Yuta. Skylark!” A girl yelled.

Yuta ran for cover, the gears shifting in his head for his next move with you.

^_^

It’s a few days later that you finally get to explore Paris. You haven’t heard a word from the fuchsia-haired boy, but you were trying to get over him anyway so you didn’t mind.

You had to realize that at the end of the day, he had his devoted army of fans and you..only had yourself. He didn’t need you, so surely he’d forget about you soon enough. You two had only known each other for a short time, regardless of it feeling like an eternity.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the Eiffel Tower. It’s kinda cold, but the dreamy sunset draws in.

When you felt a sudden gust of wind, you closed your eyes and remembered Yuta’s warm chest on your back, the way his long fingers comforted and guided yours on the stiff strings of the guitar. His breath dancing along your ear while you shivered and felt goosebumps expose themselves.

The echoing bass in his voice that hit your heart..and other places too.

The sun was slowly retreating from the sky, but it was still bright..as bright as his smile, you missed it, even when he only showed it during his sarcastic, asshole moments.

His lips so full and soft, even the brush you used over them had a difficult time coloring to perfect something that didn’t need perfecting.

Ashley was one lucky girl. It was only a matter of time until she and Yuta got back together.

You looked to the ground and sighed. Why did you have to think of him? Even when one of the most beautiful pieces of art towered over you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something so great in your life now. The connection you felt with him hit you like a train and there was nothing that could compare to it. It was so strong, it could probably compete with the earth’s gravitational pull to your body.

“Yuta..I hate you, I really do.” You whispered to yourself as you clutched your long jacket around your body. You tried to convince yourself that this was true so that you’d finally be at peace. Key word: tried.

In the front of the Eiffel Tower was a board that read the rules, opening times etc.

“Le Jules Vernes Restaurant..’closed tonight for a special event..damn it.” You had planned on treating yourself to a meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower so you could take in the view as long as some fresh air. But lucky for you, it was closed for that evening.

You licked your lips and sighed.

Would you ever have things go your way?

You were about to walk away when you heard a speaker being plugged in. The feedback was obnoxiously painful and loud, and got everyone’s attention. You all turned to see the source.

A guitar riff played soon after and you heard a chorus of whispers from people on the lawn.

“Oh my God..OH MY GOD ITS YUTA NAKAMOTO FROM SKYLARK!” A girl screams as she runs past you with another girl in hand, just barely holding on.

Shit.

You squint your eyes to look at the person that a crowd begins to form around and sure enough, it is your nemesis with the pink hair. He’s smiling widely and saying ‘hi’ to everyone as his bodyguards put their arms out to stop anyone from getting too close. His guitar is in his hands and his microphone has already been set up.

“Time to go back to the hotel.”

You turn and start to brush past all the people running to see Yuta perform.

“Yuta?! What is he doing here?”

“Holy shit! Yuta is about to perform for us!”

“Yuta from Skylark? Aren’t they about to go on tour?”

You overhear some of the comments and the last thing you want is for them to realize who you are, the infamous “crazy stalker,” so you duck and push through.

You don’t feel his eyes peering the crowd and eventually locking into your body as you walk away. His smile fades and he realizes he has to act quickly.

He strums out one chord on the guitar and the girls go into a frenzy.

“This song..is for someone that just entered my life. It’s only been a few weeks, but she’s changed it for the better. She knows me more than anyone else does and I honestly don’t know how I lived without her before.”

Yuta speaks into the microphone, making the growing crowd of listeners go silent.

You slow your pace but still don’t turn around. There’s no way he could be talking about you.

“Who is he talking about? Didn’t he just break up with Ashley?” You hear a few girls whisper.

“She doesn’t know it yet, but I don’t plan on living without her anymore..she makes my head spin, she makes me forget the words to songs that I’ve sung everyday for the past 3 years, she gives me the WORST case of butterflies...she truly is a nuisance, but I need her. y/n..”

You stop in your tracks and stare at the grass below your planted feet.

“Please don’t go..” Yuta’s eyes are wide, he just needs you to turn around and look at him, to give him a second chance.

The people turn to follow his line of vision, eventually seeing your body standing alone and far away.

“Oh my god it’s her.” They whisper.

You start to walk again when you hear the whispering yet overwhelming gossip. You’re just so tired of all of the attention you’ve been getting. Yuta was trying to make some grand statement to get you back, but he didn’t realize that this was the opposite of what you wanted.

“She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...” Yuta strums his guitar and sings.

“She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.”

You’re still walking but he continues.

“But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind..she’s the girl in the portrait, the girl with the necklace..the girl with my heart, but the girl I don’t know..I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me. She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see.”

You stop again, this time turning around to finally face him.

“No one knows me like you do, yes, you see the right through..and I know you won’t forgive me, I just hope you won’t forget me..because I know I’ll be thinking of you, yes you, the girl in the portrait.”

Your eyes start to tear up. The Mountain Man, the singer you so adored had written a song about you. And the melody was just as charming as his other songs. Were you that important to him that he created this song for you?

You stood there frozen as ice and stunned, with a thousand eyes on you.

“That was The Girl In the Portrait, I wrote it for y/n, because, well, it’s a funny story actually.” Yuta said as he put his guitar down and stood up. The crowd chuckled and clapped but people were still focused on you and waiting for your reaction.

This was one level above a public proposal and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Please..” Yuta said quietly.

You cursed silently. Your heart felt weak and you couldn’t just turn away like your conscious told you to. Your heart told you to forgive him and start over.

Yuta went all the way to Paris for you, he wrote a song for you and ditched his first tour date. He did it all for you. If that didn’t show his sincerity towards you, you weren’t sure what would.

‘I Hate You’ you mouthed before smiling.

Yuta ran towards you abruptly, making his bodyguards scurry behind him to push his fans away from him, they struggled to keep up as he dashed like Bolt towards you.

You braced yourself for impact from the 6-foot something man about to collide into you.

Yuta’s teeth showed brightly as he held out his arms and wrapped them around you. Wrinkles formed at the sides of his eyes.

He’s so filled with excitement, he lifts you three feet about the grace and bends backward.

“Yuta!” You laugh out at the sudden move, but he chuckles and brings you back down.

You breathed in his amazing scent before closing your eyes and adoring his warmth. You felt so at ease in his arms, everything faded away. The cries as well as cheers from his fans soon faded into the background. You rested your head in his chest and exhaled.

You lifted your limp arms that were once at your side and wrapped them around him while he rubbed your back. Having you in his arms tonight made it feel like Christmas Day. He never wanted it to end. Even with all the people staring and all the phones recording, he didn’t want this moment to end. He prayed that you would stay in his arms forever, for you were the only thing that made him feel comfortable and happy. You did for him what music could no longer do.

“y/n...”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, your eyes still closed while you enjoyed his embrace.

“I want to kiss you..”

Your neck nearly snapped when you looked up at him.

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“But not here..up there..will you let me?”

Yuta smirked and tilted his head towards the tower.

“Nice try, user 1026you, the restaurant is closed tonight.”

“For a special event, I know...that’s why it’ll just be me and you.” Yuta chuckled when your brows furrowed.

“Yuta..”

“I’d give you the world if you let me.” Yuta grew serious as he searched your eyes and swallowed hard. He ignored the fact that his bodyguards were having an increasingly difficult time with holding back his fans.

The two of you were surrounded by complete madness, but you felt alone..lost in each other’s eyes.

Your mouth was open slightly, you couldn’t believe that he actually booked the entire restaurant just for the two of you.

“So..You gonna let me give you a night in Paris to remember?”

You laughed and Yuta felt his chest weaken by the sight of your smile.

“You owe me big time..”

Yuta’s teeth twinkled. “We gotta run, ready?”

He took your hand and the two of you hustled to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower.

His fans ran after you two while you laughed and held onto each other tightly.

Everything happened in slow motion, the two of you moved like runaway lovers, chaos surrounded you but it didn’t matter, for you had each other. You looked over to see Yuta’s goofy smile.

The tour guide at the entrance was able to quickly let you in and close the door behind you to stop anyone else from following.

You found the elevator and got on.

Once at the top, you let go of Yuta’s hand to walk around and see the magnificent view. A million tiny lights decorated the streets of Paris. It was darker outside now, but you could still see the large crowd that surrounded the tower start to dissipate.

They looked like ants below you, slowly dispersing from the ants nest to get more food.

You were so stunned by the view, you didn’t notice that Yuta was watching you, your eyes gazing in amazement, your hair blowing softly in the wind and your bright smile that made even the moon seem bleak.

“y/n..” he called your name. There was something he wanted to see.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

And there it was. The pose from the portrait. You glancing over your shoulder so intensely. Your eyes large with wonder, your lips full and slightly parted, your hair shining in the moonlight. You are beautiful, Yuta can’t describe it, but he knows he is happy to be able to see an artwork come to life.

“Yuta?” You turned to him full and walked over. “What’s wrong? You’re staring again” you giggled.

“I’m happy.” Yuta smiles and looks down at you.

“Well, we’re in Paris at the Eiffel Tower! Of course you’re happy.” You chuckled and turned to look out at the city from a different angle, but Yuta took your hand in his and spun you around.

You tripped and fell onto his chest before looking up into his eyes.

“No...I’m happy because I’m with you.”

He whispered and your body felt weak. Luckily, he was holding you up so you could balance yourself.

He held you close and looked onto your lips which were just a few inches from yours. His breath slowed to match yours, you look into his lips and swallow hard.

“Y-Yuta.”

He leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips. Your eyes closed, his kiss made you feel like fireworks had been set off right there in your chest. It was magical even though it only lasted for a second.

Yuta was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you were ready. You held his head in your hands and looked into his eyes.

You then kissed him hard while tilting your head to the side. Yuta finally relaxes in your hands and kisses you back, opening his mouth so that he could lick your top lip.

His lips were fluffy and felt exactly like how you imagined them to feel. Silky, smooth. Even as he pressed harder, you couldn’t help but feel fragile like you’d collapse at any moment, your legs threatening to give out at any moment.

Soon, your tongues found each other and playfully danced while you struggled to keep your breathing stable.

Time slows down once again as you kiss for what feels to be days.

Yuta draws small circles and lines on your back as he pushes your body into his more. He wants more, so much more. He wants to feel you everywhere, and he can’t get enough of your touch, the way your dainty fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

But you have to pull away to breathe.

“Wow..you could’ve gone on for days, couldn’t you?” You try to catch your breath as you look up at him.

Yuta smirks. “I’m a singer, it’s called breath control.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’S cALleD BrEATh coNtRoL.” You mocked him.

The two of you laughed. Yuta took your hand to guide you to a table that had been set for the two of you.

It was weird being so high above the rest of the world. But you liked it. It was just you and Yuta. Nothing else. There was no Ashley, no fans, and no drama.

Yuta rubbed his reddened lips with two fingers.

“Let’s hurry up and eat..I want to finish what you started.”

“What I started? Sir, I recall you being the one that started that kiss!”

“Nah you gave me those eyes..” Yuta was teasing you again.

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair.

When you finished eating, you looked into the city again and felt an internal peace. There was something so comforting about being away from the madness. Yeah, your life wasn’t what it was two months ago, but you sure as hell felt all the madness was worth it.

Getting Yuta was worth it.

You leaned forward, placing your jaw on your hands.

“What are you thinking about?

Yuta watched your eyes searching the city again. The moonlight and single candle lit on the table brought out your smooth skin even more, as well as the outline of your nose and lips. He could watch you all night.

“I like the view,” you answered softly.

“You do?” Yuta’s brows raised.

“Yes..” you nodded.

“You’re my best view..” Yuta smiled widely.

You blushed. “Ehh.. I don’t know about that line.”

“Okay how about this one?

“I wish you didn’t have a name..so I could call you mine?” Yuta leaned forward to match your pose and place his head on his hands.

“Oh no..it’s getting worse.” You held your face in your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise. You’re both a little tipsy from the alcohol you had at dinner.

“Are you from Paris? Because Ei-FELL for you..” he smirked and took your hands in yours so he could see you blush.

You laughed and melted into your seat. “Oh God, Yuta make it stop.”

“Okay, okay I’ll stop..but before we leave, I have something to give you.”

You sat up straight and gave a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry again about your grandmother’s necklace. I tried..I even called up your hacker friend YangYang for help, but he couldn’t find it either..I’m so sorry. I know I can never make up for that.”

Your face straightened and you blinked slowly as the reality settled in that you would never see your grandmother’s necklace again.

“But..I did get you this..I hope her memory can still live on through this..”

Yuta reaches into his pocket and hands a small box. When you open it you find a gold necklace with a shining stone surrounded by small pearls as the pendant . The resemblance between it and your missing necklace is strikingly similar. Your mouth falls open.

“My grandmother’s necklace was the only one of its kind...how..how in the world did you find this?”

You looked closely to see that the one difference was the stone in the center.

“I searched online and went to a few antique stores and met this strange lady..what was her name again? Was it Celeste or Cerulean? Hmm..wait! It was Cyan! Yeah I showed her a picture and she found it in her store for me.”

“Yuta..that’s amazing.”

And that’s when you realized what the color of the center stone was. It’s not purple, nor red. Not pink, nor magenta..no it’s..fuchsia.

Yuta was your soulmate..that’s why your things were disappearing. The universe was pushing you to him. You were destined to meet and fall in love. How could you  not realize it sooner? That’s why you felt this undeniable pull towards him.

“What’s wrong?” Yuta grows concerned when he sees your eyes start to tear up.

“Nothing..nothing..it’s perfect, Yuta.” You decided not to tell Yuta because you couldn’t really explain it. Things were finally falling into place and you just wanted to spend time with him, for you didn’t know if you’d have the chance to be with him again..in this universe..or in another one.

“Let’s go home.” Yuta kneeled down and wiped your tears with his finger.

————

Yuta helps you out of the limo once you get to your luxurious hotel. He had the driver take you to a back entrance so his fans wouldn’t see the two of you.

“Thank you.” You let go of his hand and are about to start walking but Yuta grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp out in surprise. Your ass is in the air as you dangle over him.

“Ahh!! Yuta!”

“Shhh we came through the back for a reason.” Yuta chuckles then gives your ass a hard smack with his hand.

“Ahh! Damn it, Yuta!”

You lay out a string of curse words as Yuta gets into the elevator. He only smiles while strangers stare and wonder what in the world is going on.

When you get to the room, Yuta flips you from his shoulder and onto the bed. You plop down and feel your body bounce back up from the plush mattress.

“I swear to-“ you start but Yuta leans down over you, attacking your lips as soon as you open them to make some snarky comment.

He liked hearing you talk back to him, but he liked kissing you even more.

You lick his bottom lip, then kiss his lips again, enjoying the way both of your lips grow wet from each other.

He was just as playful with his tongue, letting it place kitten licks on the soft surface of your lips, he kissed softly, teasingly. It was almost ticklish. You felt your chest rumble.

You closed your eyes and traced your hands up Yuta’s back, pressing him into you more.

The bitter taste of alcohol stayed on your lips and your head felt light, you both felt like you were getting drunk all over again.

Yuta presses into you more, running his hands along your sides before holding your face as he guides the passionate kiss.

You pushed your body upwards and grinded onto Yuta, feeling his member poke through his jeans. You placed a finger into his belt loop, pulling him downwards. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them over his back to bring his body closer to yours even more.

Yuta took the hint and pushed into you slowly, grinding his covered member against your covered, but increasingly wet entrance.

You moaned into his mouth when you felt him press onto your weak spot teasingly. You trembled under him, hands shaking as they clawed at his back lightly.

It felt like a bouquet of flowers were slowly opening up in Yuta’s chest. You were the most beautiful melody, the graceful echo of godly chords being played in a church organ, you were the angelic singing heard all the way from heaven. That’s what you felt like to Yuta. And he had to write about you, he had a hundred songs already in mind to write about you.

He prayed that you wouldn’t stop kissing him this time, that you wouldn’t have to pull away to breathe.

He didn’t know that you felt the same way, that he felt like a day at Disney that you didn’t want to end. He felt like a birthday surprise happening over and over and over. He was the glass of water after a long run. He made you feel euphoric just from an embrace like this. With the two of you finally being alone together, it was like the stars had collided to create something so beautiful, extraordinary and new.

But still, you were scared. Now that you found your soulmate, would he disappear? What if this was your last night in this universe? You couldn’t remember anything about your life before, but you knew that you were somewhere else before all of this.

And could something this good last? Were you really away from all of your troubles?

You were deep in your thoughts and without realizing, you kissed Yuta so hard, you accidentally bit his bottom lip.

Yuta pulled away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes growing wide.

“N-no, Yuta..I’m sorry. It’s just..” you swallowed hard then licked your lips.

“What if..this is it? What if we won’t be together after tonight?”

You played with the collar of his shirt to distract yourself.

Yuta tilted his head then placed his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up.

“y/n..I don’t plan on letting you go..ever. You make me feel..” Yuta didn’t know how to describe it either.

“Amazing.” But that wasn’t enough, it was much more than that. So much more. No word in the entire dictionary could suffice for the feeling he had.

“And if the universe allows..It won’t be the last night. It’ll just be the first of many.” He gave you a wink. “What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”

You nodded and licked your lips.

“And uh..how far do you want to go because I..” Yuta looked down at your linked bodies.

You blushed when you realized what he was looking at. It was the outline of his member sticking out in his jeans and aiming towards the apex of your legs.

You thought about the chances of this being your first and last night together, and knew you wanted to experience it with Yuta. If just kissing him made you euphoric, how would making love feel?

You nodded. “I want you to make love to me Yuta, love me like it’s the last time.” You rubbed his flexed biceps and he grew weak. The combination of your gentle touch and doe eyes while those sweet words left your mouth made him feel like he’d lost all feeling in his legs.

“It won’t be the last time, but it will probably be the best time since we’re in the city of romance. Don’t expect too much from me when we do this again, okay?”

You nodded, giggling as you held his belt again. He glanced down at your hands as they fiddled around.

He chuckled then looked back up at you. “Is your name Paris, because I think my Eiffel Tower belongs in you?”

“Yuta!! I swear to G-“ you started again, but he quickly placed his mouth on yours, taking the air as it left and circling your top lip with the tip of his tongue.

You both ran out of patience, taking each other’s lips in between your teeth. You shimmy out of your jacket and Yuta tosses it to the side. You tug the hem of his black t-shirt and help him take it off over his head, his hair becoming rustled in the process but it gives him a cute, messy look. You can’t help but laugh.

Yuta smirks and rubs his hands up and down your thighs while gazing into your eyes, pressing into the soft squishy skin to massage them.

You bite your swollen lips, knowing that he’s watching your chest rise up and down under him.

“I could stare at you all night.” He whispers.

“I know..but I want you to make love to me first.” You say as you start to unbutton your blouse.

Yuta watches your fingers play with the buttons, allowing for several inches of your skin to be revealed each time. He licks his lips but waits for you to finish and reveal yourself to him, gripping the crook of your knees while he waits.

“Yuta..” you breathlessly call out his name before biting your lips. Your voice makes him dizzy, he wants to hear you say his name over and over again like a broken record, because you just sound so..heavenly. No song could compare.

He leans forward, placing his hands on yours and gripping the bow separated fabric. And it’s like he’s opening his curtains to see a bright, sunny day after a scary thunderstorm.

He opens it slowly, staring at the small space between your breasts that he wants to decorate so badly.

You stare at his neck and then his abs, all the places you want to kiss passionately while listening to his low groans.

Yuta takes the sleeves of the shirt down your arms, his fingertips lightly touching your skin but still leaving an intense rush flowing through your veins.

You lock eyes as he tosses it to the side with the jacket.

He lowers his head to your chest and breathes over it, leaving a steamy breath over your nipple. You shiver under him and let out a moan.

“Yuta..” You arch your back, desperate to feel him on you. Having him inches away from your skin just isn’t enough, especially when he’s shirtless and daunts his stunning body over yours.

But Yuta doesn’t respond. He licks your nipple and looks up to see you tremble once again. He can feel the response from your body under him even though he’s not touching you.

“Please..” you put your hand onto his back and rub it softly to push him along.

He kisses in between your breasts, then sucks hard, biting the skin to leave a mark.

You cry out his name again, this time, your fingers going through his thick hair as he moves on to suck your nipple.

He presses his tongue firmly and flat against it, then pleases a sloppy kiss onto it.

He massages your other breast while his mouth continues to work on the first, sucking hard so he can hear you say his name once again. He circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue at a pace so slow, you start to go insane. He then flicks the tender tip with his tongue as you throw your head back and moan.

You push your body upwards but Yuta pulls away. As expected, he teases you, wanting to draw this moment out for as long as possible.

“Yuta..please touch me.”

He looks into your large eyes as you beg, but then he looks down to your breasts and isn’t satisfied so he pays attention to the other breast, switching between gentle and firm sucking. Your moaning gets louder and louder, and you’re happy that Yuta paid for the suite that takes up one floor.

His large hand cups your breast, his fingers pressing into the skin and pumping it slowly.

His plush lips kiss everywhere, lighting fires of feeling across your sensitive skin.

Yuta then starts to grind down into you. Your opening is still covered by the rough fabric of your jeans, but aching nonetheless. The sudden contact made you jolt upwards. You’re so wet and needy, you’re sure you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.

Yuta quickly drags your jeans down your legs, you start to kick them off and let it fall to the floor.

“You’re so wet, baby.” Yuta stares at your soaked panties and smiles.

He retakes his position, placing his hands on either side of your head again, and sucking on your nipple.

This time he sucks harder, humming as he grinds down into you to hear you whimper loudly. The vibrations allow for a tingling sensation to echo through your skin, you feel lightheaded, your jaw locking, and your vision fading.

“Yuta!”

You say before releasing. Your grip on his hair tightens as he continues to suck on your skin while you cum. You moan loudly and breathe heavily..you slowly start to come back to Earth.

“Oh, you’re loud..but I like that.” Yuta gives you a wink then runs his fingers over your underwear.

“I didn’t even touch you and you came.” He says smoothly.

You jerk at the feel of his fingers parting your folds to collect your essence.

“You cocky bastard.” You say breathlessly.

Yuta only smirks as he walks around the bed and to a wall beside it.

“I forgot to show you this..” he presses a button and looks up at the ceiling.

You kneel on the bed and move to the center of it.

The white covering separates from the center, opening up to reveal a window.

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open when you see the beautiful night sky, dazzled by twinkling stars. And even though it is late at night, you can still see traces of sapphire blue and small, faint lines of indigo.

There’s nothing like it. You can see why Van Gogh painted Starry Night.

“So we’re gonna fuck in front of the stars?” You ask bluntly, gaining a loud chuckle from Yuta.

“I promised to give you the best night you’ve ever had so..yes.” His eyes squinted when he laughs again.

“Yuta..this is..”

“Amazing? Legendary? Extraordinary? Yeah I know” he put his hands on his hips as he watched you gaze.

You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Come here..”

You head over to the edge of the bed and get on your knees. Yuta walks over to you, watching your hands unhook his belt and tug his jeans down.

You lean back and fall into the center of the bed while waiting for him to kick off his jeans and get on the bed.

Yuta nearly trips and falls as he struggles to take his jeans off while watching you. You start to take your panties down your legs but Yuta stops you.

“No! I wanna unwrap the present.”

“Ugh, you’re so weird.” You hold your face in your hands again.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Yuta grabs your ankle and squeezes hard.

“Oh!” You yelp out at the pain and look down at him, watching as he crawls over your slowly on the plush bed.

He takes the waistband of your panty in between his fingers and slowly drags it down while looking into your eyes. Your heart starts to race again. He’s so close to your wet and needy entrance, but you feel the sharp, icy slap of cold air once you’re exposed.

“Beautiful..” Yuta adores your naked body below him.

He traces his fingers on the surface surrounding your folds, just pressing shy of them to make you writhe.

“Yuta..please.”

He rubs two fingers along your folds painfully slow, using the side of his long fingers to part them.

Yuta retreats his fingers and puts them into his mouth.

“So good.” He breathlessly lets out. He teases your entrance again, his spit and your essence now mixing as he presses nearly perfect circles into your core.

You can feel the knot in your stomach start to build again. Your mouth falls open as you moan.

You arch your back and hold onto the sheets with a grip so tight, you felt your knuckles become white. You look up at the stars and think to yourself how beautiful it is out there. You feel your spirit start to ascend while Yuta plays with your clit.

Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely as you grow more and more sensitive to his touch.

Yuta uses his other hand to pump then align himself with your opening.

His length glistens with pre cum, the tip red and veins pumping fiery blood through it.

He’s more than ready now and you can’t wait to take him.

“Open up for me.”

You don’t hesitate to spread your legs further apart so your hips align with his.

He leans down and holds himself over you with both hands, looking into your eyes before kissing you enthusiastically, tugging your lip between his teeth so you can call out his name again.

He pushes into you slowly while you kiss.

Yuta drinks in your moan and groans when he feels your silky walls surround him.

He lets go of your lips and buries himself into the crook of your neck. He breathes deeply, pushing into you again.

“So tight, fuck.” He whispers.

You take a deep breath and look at the stars above you to stop yourself from coming already.

He starts to thrust into you again, but you let out a quiet whimper.

“Shit..I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. K-keep going.”

You rub his back to push him along.

He begins to rub your clit, your mouth falling open into a silent cry.

He pushes all of himself into you then pulls out, groaning once again when he buries himself back inside.

He grinds against your silky walls while holding you close and rubbing small circles into you.

Your heated bodies comfort each other as they are finally connected, working towards the same goal.

Yuta smells like a combination of amber and musk, but feels like a soft blanket during winter, his muscular arms holding your body still while also hugging you in the most passionate embrace you’ve ever experienced during sex.

His heart beat matches yours, his breath attaches itself to your neck. His throaty moans begin to get louder and louder.

Your fingers run through his hair while you whimper.

You’re so close.

Yuta moves faster, harder, pushing into you so hard, the bed starts to move.

He lifts himself from your chest and looks down at you. Your saddened by the coldness you feel between your bodies now but Yuta is so beautiful. His magenta hair now wavy, some strands sticking to his forehead, leftover eyeliner smudging and bringing out the depth of his eyes.

He grabs your ankles, completely enclosing his fists around them before placing them into his shoulders.

He grinds into your entire body at a different angle now, the pressure on your g-spot increasing significantly. “That’s feels good, Yuta..oh my G-“

You start to clench around him, making him groan and push into you harder.

“y/n..” he whispers while looking into your eyes. “You’re beautiful..in every way.”

His surprisingly sweet words make you smile.

You gaze at the stars, but your vision starts to blur. You can’t think of anything but Yuta, the feeling is so amazing, you can’t describe it. To be filled up by him, to be completely enraptured by him, there is nothing like it. The knocking of the headboard against the hotel wall and the sounds of skin on skin brings you to the edge.

You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes close.

They roll into the back of your head and your back arches. The euphoric feeling takes over and you swear your spirit leaves your body for an entire minute.

Yuta fucks you through your high but pulls out and releases onto your belly soon after, experiencing the same overwhelming feeling in his spirit too.

He collapses onto the bed beside you and looks up at the stars, taking your hand into his and squeezing it gently.

You look over at each other and laugh, it’s as if you were both thinking the same thing. How did you climax so hard?

Several minutes pass and you’re about to get up to get a towel but Yuta holds your hand.

“I’ll get it, just relax, baby.”

He comes back with a wet washcloth and gently cleans you up.

“I love you..” he says quietly.

“Yuta..it’s a bit early for that.”

He nods while cleaning up the strings on your belly. “I know..but I can’t shake this feeling. I think you’re the one..I think you’re my..soulmate.”

You’re stunned to hear Yuta speaking like this. If he realized you were soulmates, what would happen now?

“I mean, I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but..”

“I agree, Yuta..I think you’re my soulmate, which is why I’m scared to lose you..good things never last.” You say quietly and avoid his eyes.

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay..I know we’ll be okay. Just trust me, okay?”

Yuta crawled over you and gave your forehead a light peck.

You made love again then cuddled all night, but when morning came..so did reality.

————

You jump up at your desk, startled by a harsh gust of wind against your back.

What just happened? Where are you? Where is he?

You look around you and see towering wooden shelves filled with books.

How did you end up here?

“y/n? You okay?” You hear a young voice call to you.

You turn to see Charlotte, the 13-year old volunteer at the library.

The Library

Shit. You’re back.

You hold your head in your hands and wail.

Charlotte rushes over to you, hugging you tightly while shushing you.

“Y/n! Y/n! Be quiet! We’re in a library, you can’t be loud like this!”

You sniffle. “I know! But it was so good! I was so happy there!”

“What? Are you talking about your dream?”

That’s all it was..a sweet dream, an imaginative universe you only had a quick taste of...nothing was real now. How on Earth would you find him? You were back to reality.

Totoro walked across the desk and meowed.

You looked at him and pouted.

You knew who you were..a boring librarian that owned a cat named Totoro..but who was Yuta in this universe?

How would you find him?

“y/n?” Charlotte called out to you. “Do you want to go home?”

Several weeks passed and you slowly started to assimilate back into your old life. You googled his name but found nothing, he was nowhere to be found.

You just had to accept that it was a dream, a dream followed by the nightmare of reality.

You hoped that you would find your soulmate again, but you knew the chance was little to none. So you did what you did before. Work, eat, spend time with your best friend and roommate Delilah, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again.

Love didn’t have a place in your life, could you even come to accept a loved other than Yuta? Damn him for giving you a night in Paris to remember.

———

“The true crime section is in row 13.” You pointed to a large sign hanging from above reading “TRUE CRIME NOVELS.” You wondered how anyone could miss it, then again old people were usually the ones that needed the most help when they came to your library.

You turned back around to your returned-book cart that you were taking books from to stack the shelves with. But you noticed that it was now empty.

You were 75% sure that you didn’t put away ALL of the books before turning to help the senior citizen, yet all of them were gone.

All..except for one that had fallen to the floor. It was open  when you picked it up. When you looked at the page that it was open to, you realized that it was a book of poems.

The poem it was opened to read:

She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...

She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.

But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind

You squint your eyes, where have you seen this before?

she’s the girl in the portrait

the girl with the necklace

the girl with my heart

but the girl I don’t know

I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me

She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see

The girl with the necklace..

That’s it! It’s Yuta’s song! He wrote this, he’s out there somewhere. Perfect! Now you could track down the author and find him-

But wait.

You looked down to see the author’s name.

The One in the Middle

“Shit. It’s just like him to not put his real name on his work.”

You opened your laptop and immediately went to google.

“Who is the author named ‘The One in the Middle’?” You said as you typed.

Nothing. Nobody knew who he was. Many asked about his other poems, but there were no answers, only fan groups that praised the mysterious writer. ‘No one knows who he is but that adds to his ‘sexiness’ that’s what their Facebook post stated.

And none of his works were posted or published electronically, so you couldn’t ask someone to track his IP address like you did the first time.

You sigh and hold your head in your hands. “Damn it Yuta, why do you make things so difficult?”

It was comforting to know he’s out there somewhere, but you couldn’t help but lose hope. Was the universe messing with you?

———

A few weeks pass again and Delilah decides to drag you to the opening of a new art gallery downtown.  Normally, she’d take her boyfriend with her, but he had basketball practice tonight.

“Thank you for coming with me, y/n! You know my professor, always making us look at other works for “inspiration” I mean, why can’t I just look at works online?” Delilah spoke as you two walked around. She was a musical theatre student, but had to visit an art gallery at least once a week to pass her art appreciation class.

She didn’t see the point in it, but you always had a connection to art that you couldn’t explain. No one in your family was a visual artist. Unlike in your “dream,” your grandmother wasn’t a painter and passed away before you could even meet her.

Nonetheless, color and technique was something you grew to appreciate.

There were about 50 people in the gallery, all high class looking. You felt underdressed in your black turtleneck, black jeans and jean jacket. That’s one thing that you did miss, wearing color all the time like you did in your dream. Now, you were back to wearing black. It was like a metaphor for how you felt. Your colorful and intense world has turned to black.

The only thing that stood out from your outfit was your necklace.

“I’m going to the restroom, I'll be right back!” Delilah skips away.

You nod then walk around a wall in the middle of the room. When you turn the corner, you see..yourself.

It’s the painting from your dream..the one of you slightly turned around. Your necklace is still in it too except..

You step closer and see that it’s different. The stone isn’t ruby anymore, no..

“It’s fuchsia..” you whisper. You glance down to see that the author’s name is The One with Many Friends.

“It’s funny because I was thinking it was more magenta, but you’re right..it really is fuchsia. You’ve got good eyes.”

You slowly turn when you recognize the voice.

Time starts to slow down. You can’t believe your eyes. It feels as though the world has stopped moving and it’s just the two of you once again after so much time.

It was Yuta.

Yuta smiles brightly when you look up at him, he recognizes you right away as you make the same pose you have in the painting.

“Yuta..” the name barely leaves your lips.

“It’s you..y/n.” He walks towards you, pace increasing with each step before taking you in his arms as all of his memories flood his brain. He had seen your face every night in his dreams but he couldn’t remember who you were. He painted you in an effort to figure out who you were, but it didn’t help.

Now finally, he got his answer.

Everything that was missing found its rightful place.

“I read your poem, but you used a pseudonym..again! I thought I would never find you.” You cry into his shoulder while holding onto him tightly.

Yuta smiles and caresses your hair.

“I told you...just trust me, we’ll be okay.”

#yuta #nakamoto yuta #yuta au #yuta ff #yuta fanfic #nct smut #yuta smut #nct yuta #nct soulmate au #nct 127 yuta #nct 127 #nct #nct fluff #yuta oneshot #yuta scenario #yuta imagine #yuta nakamoto #yuta fluff #yuta angst #nct angst #nct 127 angst #nct 127 romance #nct romance #yuta blurb #nct boyfriend #nct yuta smut #nct 127 yuta smut #yuta romance #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff

[suckmykawaiidesu]

Compilation of Nessian Moments:  ‘A Court of Wings and Ruin ’ Edition

Hello loves! ♥️

I recently asked for a compilation list of Nessian moments and there doesn’t seems to be one so I decided to hurriedly put one together before the release of “A Court of Silver Flames”. I have probably missed some scenes but these are the ones that I came across during my re-read. I will be making a post for each book and will link them once available:

A Court of Mist and Fury

ACOMAF Target Exclusive Story uploaded by bookofademigod

A Court of Frost and Starlight

Sneak Peak at the end of A Court of Frost and Starlight

A Court of Wings and Ruin

Chapter 15

Nesta had been beautiful as a human woman. As High Fae, she was devastating. From the utter stillness with which Cassian stood beside me, I wondered if he thought the same thing. She was in a pewter-colored gown, its make simple, yet the material fine. Her hair was braided over the crown of her head, accentuating her long, pale neck—a neck Cassian’s eyes darted to, then quickly away from, as she sized us up and said to me, “You’re back.” With her hair styled like that, it hid the pointed ears. But there was nothing to hide the ethereal grace as she took one step. As her focus again returned to Cassian and she added,

“What do you want?”

But Cassian sauntered over to Nesta, a half smile spreading across his face. She stood stiffly while he picked up the book, read the title, and chuckled. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a romance reader.” She gave him a withering glare. “And, again, why are you here?” She snatched her book from Cassian, who allowed her to do so, but remained standing beside her. Watching every breath, every blink. “Elain’s mate is here,” I said. And it was the wrong thing to utter in Nesta’s presence. She went white with rage. “He is no such thing to her,” she snarled, advancing on me enough that Rhys slid a shield into place between us. As if he, too, had glimpsed that mighty power in her eyes that day in Hybern. And did not know how it would manifest.

“If you bring that male anywhere near her, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Cassian crooned, trailing her at a casual pace as she stopped perhaps five feet from me. He lifted a brow as she whirled on him. “You won’t join me for practice, so you sure as hell aren’t going to hold your own in a fight. You won’t talk about your powers, so you certainly aren’t going to be able to wield them. And you—” “Shut your mouth,” she snapped, every inch the conquering empress. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, and if you—” “You come between a male and his mate, Nesta Archeron, and you’re going to learn about the consequences the hard way.” Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian only gave her a crooked grin.

Nesta only shook her head, turning toward the chair and her book. “I don’t care. Do what you want.” A stinging dismissal, if not admission that she still trusted me enough to consider Elain’s needs first. Rhys jerked his chin at Cassian in a silent order to leave, and as I followed them, I said softly, “I’m sorry, Nesta.” She didn’t answer as she sat stiffly in her chair, picked up her book, and dutifully ignored us. A blow to the face would have been better. When I looked ahead, I found Cassian staring back at Nesta as well. I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian’s eyes as he gazed at my sister. The sorrow. And the longing

Chapter 16 I cringed. “I guarantee Nesta is now guarding Elain. I think she might honestly kill him if he so much as tries to touch her.” “Not without training she won’t,” Cassian grumbled, tucking in his wings as he claimed the seat beside Mor that Azriel had vacated. The shadowsinger didn’t so much as look at it. No, Azriel just walked to the wall beside Cassian and leaned against the wood paneling. But Rhys and the others remained quiet enough that I knew to proceed carefully as I asked Cassian, “Nesta spoke as if you’ve been up at the House … often. You’ve offered to train her?” Cassian’s hazel eyes shuttered as he crossed a booted ankle over another, stretching his muscled legs before him. “I go up there every other day. It’s good exercise for my wings.” Those wings shifted in emphasis. Not a scratch marred them. “And?” “And what you saw in the library is a pleasanter version of the conversation we always have.” Mor’s lips pressed into a thin line, as if she was trying her best not to say anything. Azriel was trying his best to shoot a warning stare at Mor to remind her to indeed keep her mouth shut. As if they’d already discussed this. Many times. “I don’t blame her,” Cassian said, shrugging despite his words. “She was—violated. Her body stopped belonging wholly to her.” His jaw clenched. Even Amren didn’t dare say anything. “And I am going to peel the King of Hybern’s skin off his bones the next time I see him.”

Chapter 17 Not that there was much finery to bother with. I’d opted for my Illyrian leather pants and a loose, white shirt—and a pair of embroidered slippers that Cassian kept snorting at as we flew. When he did so for the third time in two minutes, I pinched his arm and said, “It’s hot. Those boots are stuffy.” His brows rose, the portrait of innocence. “I didn’t say anything.” “You grunted. Again.” “I’ve been living with Mor for five hundred years. I’ve learned the hard way not to question shoe choices.” He smirked. “However stupid they may be.” “It’s dinner. Unless there’s some battle planned afterward?” “Your sister will be there—I’d say that’s battle aplenty.” I casually studied his face, noting how hard he worked to keep his features neutral, to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but on my own. Rhys flew nearby, far enough to remain out of earshot as I said, “Would you use her to see if she can somehow fix the wall?” Hazel eyes shot to me, fierce and clear. “Yes. Not only for our sakes, but … she needs to get out of the House. She needs to …” Cassian’s wings kept up a steady booming beat, the new sections only detectable by their lack of scarring. “She’ll destroy herself if she stays cooped up in there.” My chest tightened. “Do …” I thought through my words. “The day she was changed, she … I felt something different with her.” I fought against the tensing in my muscles as I recalled those moments. The screaming and the blood and the nausea as I watched my sisters taken against their will, as I could do nothing, as we— I swallowed down the fear, the guilt. “It was like … everything she was, that steel and fire … It became magnified. Cataclysmic. Like … looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.” I shook my head, as if it would clear away the memory of the predator, the rage simmering in those blue-gray eyes. “I will never forget those moments,” Cassian said quietly, scenting or sensing the memories wreaking havoc on me. “As long as I live.” “Have you seen any glimpse of it since?” “Nothing.” The House loomed, golden lights at the walls of windows and doorways beckoning us closer. “But I can feel it—sometimes.” He added a bit ruefully, “Usually when she’s pissed at me. Which is … most of the time.” “Why?” They’d always been at each other’s throats, but this … yes, the dynamic between them had been different earlier. Sharper. Cassian shook his dark hair out of his eyes, slightly longer than the last time I’d seen it. “I don’t think Nesta will ever forgive me for what happened in Hybern. To her—but mostly to Elain.” “Your wings were shredded. You were barely alive.” For that was guilt—ravaging and poisonous—in each of Cassian’s words. What the others had been fighting against in the loft. “You were in no position to save anyone.” “I made her a promise.” The wind ruffled Cassian’s hair as he squinted at the sky. “And when it mattered, I didn’t keep it.” I still dreamed of him trying to crawl toward her, reaching for her even in the semiunconscious state the pain and blood loss had thrown him into. As Rhysand had once done for me during those last moments with Amarantha. Perhaps only a few wing beats separated us from the broad landing veranda, but I asked, “Why do you bother, Cassian?” His hazel eyes shuttered as we smoothly landed. And I thought he wouldn’t answer, especially not as we heard the others already in the dining room beyond the veranda, especially not when Rhys gracefully landed beside us and strode in ahead with a wink. But Cassian said quietly as we headed for the dining room, “Because I can’t stay away.”

Chapter 17 His focus shifted behind me before he replied—and Lucien shut his mouth. His metal eye whirred softly. I followed his glance, and tried not to tense as Nesta stepped into the room. Yes, devastating was a good word for how lovely she’d become as High Fae. And in a long-sleeved, dark blue gown that clung to her curves before falling gracefully to the ground in a spill of fabric … Cassian looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

Chapter 19 Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes. I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there. “Care to join?” Cassian purred. Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.” I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian. Cassian extended a wrapped hand, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Scared?” I wisely kept my mouth shut as Nesta stepped from the open doorway into the blinding light of the courtyard. “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?” I choked, and Cassian shot me a warning glare, daring me to laugh. But I felt for that bond in my mind, lowering my mental shields enough to say to Rhysand, wherever he was in the city, Please come spare me from Cassian and Nesta’s bickering. A heartbeat later, Rhys crooned, Regretting becoming High Lady? I savored that voice—that humor. But I shoved that simmering panic down again as I countered, Is this part of my duties? A sensual, dark laugh. Why do you think I was so desperate for a partner? I’ve had almost five centuries to deal with this alone. It’s only fair you have to endure it now. Cassian was saying to Nesta, “Seems like you’re a little on edge, Nesta. And you left so abruptly last night … Any way I can help ease that tension?”

Chapter 22 The Carver purred to Cassian, “If I tell you a secret, warrior-heart, what will you give me?” Neither of us spoke. Carefully—we’d have to phrase and do this so carefully. The Carver stroked the shard of bone in his palm, attention fixed upon a stone-faced Cassian. “What if I tell you what the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something—something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth.” Cassian’s golden-brown face had drained of color, his wings tucking in tight. “What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?” My blood went cold. “What came out was not what went in.” A rasping laugh as the Carver laid the shard of bone on the ground beside him. “How lovely she is—new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen, as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter sunrise.” Rhys had warned me of the inmates’ capacity to lie, to sell anything, to get free. “Nesta,” the Bone Carver murmured. “Nes-ta.” I squeezed Cassian’s hand. Enough. It was enough of this teasing and taunting. But he didn’t look at me. “How the wind moans her name. Can you hear it, too? Nesta. Nesta. Nesta.” I wasn’t sure Cassian was breathing. “What did she do, drowning in the ageless dark? What did she take?” It was the bite in the last word that snapped my tether of restraint. “If you wish to find out, perhaps you should stop talking long enough for us to explain.” My voice seemed to shake Cassian free of whatever trance he’d been in. His breathing surged, tight and fast, and he scanned my face—apology in his eyes.

Chapter 23 “Would you be frightened of her, if Nesta was—Death? Or if her power came from it?” Cassian was quiet for a long moment. He said at last, “I’m a warrior. I’ve walked beside Death my entire life. I would be more afraid for her, to have that power. But not afraid of her.” He considered, and added after a heartbeat, “Nothing about Nesta could frighten me.”

Chaper 24 Mercifully, or perhaps not, Nesta’s retching filled the silence. Cassian gaped at Rhys. “What did you do?” “I asked him the same thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He said he ‘went fast.’ ” Nesta vomited again—then silence. Cassian sighed at the ceiling. “She’ll never fly again.” The doorknob twisted, and we tried—or at least Cassian and I did—not to seem like we’d been listening to her. Nesta’s face was still greenish-pale, but … Her eyes burned. There was no way of describing that burning—and even painting it might have failed. Her eyes remained the same blue-gray as my own. And yet … Molten ore was all I could think of. Quicksilver set aflame. She advanced a step toward us. All her attention fixed on Rhys. Cassian casually stepped in her path, wings folded in tight. Feet braced apart on the carpet. A fighting stance—casual, but … his Siphons glimmered. “Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity. He just went on, “It was Amren’s fault, of course, but no one believed me. And no one dared banish her.” She blinked slowly. But the burning, molten gaze became mortal. Or as mortal as one of us could be. Until Lucien breathed, “What are you?” Cassian didn’t seem to dare take his focus off Nesta. 

Chapter 27 Cassian had stationed himself by the doorway, I realized, to be closer to Nesta. To grab her if Amren decided she didn’t particularly care for where this conversation was headed. Or for any of the furniture in this room. Precisely why Rhys now placed himself on Amren’s other side—to draw her attention away from me, and Mor behind us, every muscle in her lithe body on alert. Cassian was staring at Nesta—hard enough that my sister at last twisted toward him. Met his gaze. His head tilted—slightly. A silent order.

Cassian casually slid Nesta behind him, his fingers snagging in the skirts of her black gown. As if to reassure himself that she wasn’t in Amren’s direct path. Nesta only rose onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.

Chapter 30 Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. “Morning, Nesta,” he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. “Elain.”

Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up. I chose that moment to winnow to the skies above the House, chuckling as wind carried me through the world. Some sisterly payback, I supposed. For Nesta’s general attitude. Mercifully, no one saw my slightly better crash landing on the veranda, and by the time Cassian’s dark figure appeared in the sky, Nesta’s hair bright as bronze in the morning sun, I’d brushed off the dirt and dust from my leathers. My sister’s face was wind-flushed as Cassian gently set her down. Then she strode for the glass doors without a single look back. “You’re welcome,” Cassian called after her, more than a bite to his voice. His hands clenched and slackened at his sides—as if he were trying to loosen the feel of her from his palms.

Chapter 31 In the terrible silence, Cassian hauled me out—toward the dim center of the pit. Nesta was standing there, arms around herself, eyes wide. Cassian only stretched out an arm for her. As if in a trance, she walked right to his side. His arms tightened around both of us, Siphons flaring, gilding the darkness with bloodred light.

Chapter 32 I wondered what had happened in those initial moments, when he’d found my sister. As if he’d read my thoughts, Rhys sent the image to me, no doubt courtesy of Cassian. Panic—and rage. That was all he knew as he shot down into the heart of the pit, spearing for that ancient darkness that had once shaken him to his very marrow. Nesta was there—and Feyre. It was the former he saw first, stumbling out of the dark, wide-eyed, her fear a tang that whetted his rage into something so sharp he could barely think, barely breathe— She let out a small, animal sound—like some wounded stag—as she saw him. As he landed so hard his knees popped. He said nothing as Nesta launched herself toward him, her dress filthy and disheveled, her arms stretching for him. He opened his own for her, unable to stop his approach, his reaching— She gripped his leathers instead. “ Feyre,” she rasped, pointing behind her with a free hand, shaking him solidly with the other. Strength—such untapped strength in that slim, beautiful body. “Hybern.” That was all he needed to hear. He drew his sword—then Rhys was arrowing for them, his power like a gods-damned volcanic eruption. Cassian charged ahead into the gloom, following the screaming—

Chapter 39 But Nesta was glancing between us all, her back still stiff, mouth a thin line. “Where is he?” “Who?” Rhys crooned. “Cassian.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard his name from her lips. Cassian had always been him or that one. And Nesta had been … pacing in the foyer. As if she was worried. I opened my mouth, but Mor beat me to it. “He’s busy.” I’d never heard her voice so … sharp. Icy. Nesta held Mor’s stare. Her jaw tightened, then relaxed, then tightened—as if fighting some battle to keep questions in. Mor didn’t drop her gaze. Mor had never seemed ruffled by mention of Cassian’s past lovers. Perhaps because they’d never meant much—not in the ways that counted. But if the Illyrian warrior no longer stood as a physical and emotional buffer between her and Azriel … And worse, if the person who caused that vacancy was Nesta … Mor said flatly, “When he gets back, keep your forked tongue behind your teeth.” My heart leaped into a furious beat, my arms slack at my sides at the insult, the threat. But Rhys said, “Mor.” She slowly—so slowly—looked at him. There was nothing but uncompromising will in Rhys’s face. “We now leave for the meeting in three days. Send out dispatches to the other High Lords to inform them. And I’m done debating where to meet. Pick a place and be done with it.” She stared him down for a heartbeat, then dragged her gaze back to my sister. Nesta’s face had not altered, the coldness limning it unbending. She was so still she seemed to barely be breathing. But she did not balk. She did not avert her eyes from the Morrigan. Mor vanished with hardly a blink. Nesta only turned and headed for the sitting room, where I noticed books had been laid on the low-lying table before the hearth.

Behind us, Amren murmured to Nesta, “Cassian has gone to war many times, girl. He isn’t general of Rhys’s forces for nothing. This battle was a skirmish compared to what lies ahead. He’s likely visiting the families of the fallen as we speak. He’ll be back before the meeting.” Nesta said, “I don’t care.”

Chapter 42 Nesta only lifted her chin. “I …” I’d never seen her stumble for words. “I do not want to be remembered as a coward.” “No one would say that,” I offered quietly. “I would.” Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but… avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval—more. “It was some distant thing,” she said. “War. Battle. It … it’s not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means …telling them what happened.”

Mor sagged a bit, jewelry glinting with the movement, and went to take Cassian’s arm. But he’d at last approached Nesta. And as the world began to turn to shadows and wind, I saw Cassian tower over my sister, saw her chin lift defiantly, and heard him growl, “Hello, Nesta.” Rhys seemed to halt his winnowing as my sister said, “So you’re alive.” Cassian bared his teeth in a feral grin, wings flaring slightly. “Were you hoping otherwise?” Mor was watching—watching so closely, every muscle tense. She again reached for his arm, but Cassian angled out of reach, not tearing his eyes from Nesta’s blazing gaze. Nesta blurted, “You didn’t come to—” She stopped herself. The world seemed to go utterly still at that interrupted sentence, nothing and no one more so than Cassian. He scanned her face as if furiously reading some battle report. Mor just watched as Cassian took Nesta’s slim hand in his own, interlacing their fingers. As he folded in his wings and blindly reached his other hand back toward Mor in a silent order to transport them. Cassian’s eyes did not leave Nesta’s; nor did hers leave his. There was no warmth, no tenderness on either of their faces. Only that raging intensity, that blend of contempt and understanding and fire. Rhys began to winnow us again, and just as the dark wind swept in, I heard Cassian say to Nesta, his voice low and rough, “The next time, Emissary, I’ll come say hello.”

Chapter 44 “You’re insane,” I breathed to Tamlin as Varian bared his teeth. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” I pointed toward Nesta. “Hybern turned my sisters into Fae—after your bitch of a priestess sold them out!” “Perhaps Ianthe’s mind was already in Rhysand’s thrall. And what a tragedy to remain young and beautiful. You’re a good actress—I’m sure the trait runs in the family.” Nesta let out a low laugh. “If you want someone to blame for all of this,” she said to Tamlin, “perhaps you should first look in the mirror.” Tamlin snarled at her. Cassian snarled right back, “Watch it.” Tamlin looked between my sister and Cassian—his gaze lingering on Cassian’s wings, tucked in behind him. Snorted. “Seems like other preferences run in the Archeron family, too.”

Chapter 45 Rhys lifted a brow. “Your staggering generosity aside, will you be joining our forces?” “I have not yet decided.” Eris went so far as to give his father a look bordering on reproach. From genuine alarm or for what that refusal might mean for our own covert alliance, I couldn’t tell. “Armies take time to raise,” Cassian said. “You don’t have the luxury of sitting on your ass. You need to rally your soldiers now.” Beron only sneered. “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.” My heartbeat was so wild I could hear it in every corner of my body, feel it pounding in my arms, my gut. But it was nothing compared to the wrath on Cassian’s face—or the icy rage on Azriel’s and Rhys’s. And the disgust on Mor’s. “That bastard,” Nesta said with utter coolness, though her eyes began to burn, “may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people.” She didn’t so much as look at Cassian as she said it. But he stared at her—as if he’d never seen her before.

Chapter 47 Helion paused his debating the wall to survey her carefully, as he had done earlier. Spell-Cleaver. That was his title. She surveyed him with her usual disdain. But Helion gave her the same bow he’d offered me—though his smile was edged with enough sensuality that even my heart raced a bit. No wonder the Lady of Autumn hadn’t stood a chance. “I don’t think we were introduced properly earlier,” he crooned to Nesta. “I’m—” “I don’t care,” Nesta said with a snap of her wrist, striding right past him and up to my side. “I’d like a word,” she said. “Now.” Cassian was biting his knuckle to keep from laughing—at the utter surprise and shock on Helion’s face. It wasn’t every day, I supposed, that anyone of either sex dismissed him so thoroughly. I threw the High Lord a semi-apologetic glance and led my sister out of the room. “What is it?” I asked when Nesta and I had entered her bedroom, the space bedecked in pink silk and gold, accents of ivory scattered throughout. The lavishness of it indeed put our various homes to shame. “We need to leave,” Nesta said. “Right now.” Every sense went on alert. “Why?” “It feels wrong. Something feels wrong.” I studied her, the clear sky beyond the towering, drape-framed windows. “Rhys and the others would sense it. You’re likely just picking up on all the power gathered here.” “Something is wrong,” Nesta insisted. “I’m not doubting you feel that way but … If none of the others are picking it up—” “I am not like the others.” Her throat bobbed. “We need to leave.” “I can send you back to Velaris, but we have things to discuss here—” “I don’t care about me, I—” The door opened, and Cassian stalked in, face grave. The sight of the wings, the Illyrian armor in this opulent, pink-filled room planted itself in my mind, the painting already taking form, as he said, “What’s wrong.” He studied every inch of her. As if there were nothing and no one else here, anywhere. But I said, “She senses something is off—says we need to leave right away.” I waited for the dismissal, but Cassian angled his head. “What, precisely, feels wrong?” Nesta stiffened, mouth pursing as she weighed his tone. “It feels like there’s this …dread. This sense that … that I forgot something but can’t remember what.” Cassian stared at her for a moment longer. “I’ll tell Rhys.” And he did.

Chapter 48 Nesta let out a breathy, sharp noise and surged from her chair. I lunged for her, nearly tripping over the skirts of my dress as she staggered back, a hand clutching at her chest. Another step would have taken her stumbling into the reflection pool, but Mor sprang forward, gripping her. “What’s wrong?” Mor demanded, holding my sister upright as her face contorted in what looked to be—pain. Confusion and pain. Sweat beaded on Nesta’s brow, though her face went deathly pale. “Something …” The word was cut off by a low groan. She sagged, and Mor caught her fully, scanning Nesta’s face. Cassian was instantly there, his hand at her back, teeth bared at the invisible threat.

Chapter 49 Nesta smoothed a hand down her dark dress. “What do I do now?” A purpose, I realized. Assigning her the task of finding a way to repair the holes in the wall … it had given my sister what perhaps our human lives had never granted her: a bearing. “You come with us—to Graysen’s estate, and then travel with the army. If you’re connected with the Cauldron, then we’ll need you close. Need you to tell us if it’s being wielded again.” Not quite a mission, but Nesta nodded all the same. Right as Cassian clapped Rhys on the shoulder and prowled toward us. He paused a foot away, and frowned. “Dresses aren’t good for flying, ladies.” Nesta didn’t reply. He lifted a brow. “No barking and biting today?” But Nesta didn’t rise to meet him, her face still drained and sallow. “I’ve never worn pants,” was all she said. I could have sworn concern flashed across Cassian’s features. But he brushed it aside and drawled, “I have no doubt you’d start a riot if you did.” No reaction. Had the Cauldron— Cassian stepped in Nesta’s path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. “Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,” he breathed, “and you kill them.” He wouldn’t be coming—no, he’d be mustering the full might of the Illyrian legions. Azriel would be joining us, though. Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. “A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard— mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don’t forget that you’re stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,” he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. “And if someone gets you into a hold …” My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn’t place. Nesta surveyed the fine dagger in her hand. Then lifted her head to look at him. “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off. I studied Nesta, the dagger, her quiet, still face. “Don’t even start,” she warned me, and headed for the stairs.

Chapter 51 On and on they went, until Devlon looked over Rhys’s shoulder—to where we stood. A scowl at Mor. A frown at me—wisely subdued. Then he noticed Nesta. “What is that,” Devlon asked. Nesta merely stared at him, one hand clamping the edges of her gray cloak together at her chest. One of the other camp-lords made some sign against evil. “That,” Cassian said too quietly, “is none of your concern.” “Is she a witch.” I opened my mouth, but Nesta said flatly, “Yes.” And I watched as nine full-grown, weathered Illyrian warlords flinched. “She may act like one sometimes,” Cassian clarified, “but no—she is High Fae.” “She is no more High Fae than we are,” Devlon countered.

Chapter 56 But Nesta had jolted to her feet, staring at Cassian, at the helmet he had tucked into the crook of his arm, the weapons still poking above his shoulder, in need of cleaning. His dark hair hung limp with sweat, his face was mud-splattered where even the helmet had not kept it out. But she surveyed his seven Siphons, the dim red stones. And then she said, “You’re hurt.” Rhys snapped to attention at that. Cassian’s face was grim—his eyes glassy. “It’s fine.” Even the words were laced with exhaustion. But she reached for his arm—his shield arm. Cassian seemed to hesitate, but offered it to her, tapping the Siphon atop his palm. The armor slid back a fraction over his forearm, revealing— “You know better than to walk around with an injury,” Rhys said a bit tensely. “I was busy,” Cassian said, not taking his focus off Nesta as she studied the swollen wrist. How she’d detected it through the armor … She must have read it in his eyes, his stance. I hadn’t realized she’d been observing the Illyrian general enough to notice his tells. “And it’ll be fixed by morning,” Cassian added, daring Rhys to say otherwise. But Nesta’s pale fingers gently probed his golden-brown skin, and he hissed through his teeth. “How do I fix it?” she asked. Her hair had been tied in a loose knot atop her head earlier in the day, and in the hours that we’d worked to ready and distribute supplies to the healers, through the heat and humidity, stray tendrils had come free to curl about her temple, her nape. Faint color had stained her cheeks from the sun, and her forearms, bare beneath the sleeves she’d rolled up, were flecked with mud. Cassian slowly sat on the log where she’d been perched a moment before, groaning softly—as if even that movement taxed him. “Icing it usually helps, but wrapping it will just lock it in place long enough for the sprain to repair itself—” She reached for the basket of bandages she’d been preparing, then for the pitcher at her feet. I was too tired to do anything other than watch as she washed his wrist, his hand, her own fingers gentle. Too tired to ask if she possessed the magic to heal it herself. Cassian seemed too weary to speak as well while she wrapped bandages around his wrist, only grunting to confirm if it was too tight or too loose, if it helped at all. But he watched her— didn’t take his eyes off her face, the brows bunched and lips pursed in concentration. And when she’d tied it neatly, his wrist wrapped in white, when Nesta made to pull back, Cassian gripped her fingers in his good hand. She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. Nesta did not yank her hand away. Did not open her mouth for some barbed retort. She only stared and stared at him, at the breadth of his shoulders, even more powerful in that beautiful black armor, at the strong column of his tan neck above it, his wings. And then at his hazel eyes, still riveted to her face. Cassian brushed a thumb down the back of her hand. Nesta opened her mouth at last, and I braced myself— “You’re hurt?” At the sound of Mor’s voice, Cassian snatched his hand back and pivoted toward Mor with a lazy smile. “Nothing for you to cry over, don’t worry.” Nesta dragged her stare from his face—down to her now-empty hand, her fingers still curled as if his palm lay there. Cassian didn’t look at Nesta as she rose, snatching up the pitcher, and muttered something about getting more water from inside the tent. Cassian and Mor fell into their banter, laughing and taunting each other about the battle and the ones ahead. Nesta didn’t come back out again for some time.

Chapter 56

Nesta did not flinch at the clash and din of battle. She only stared toward one blackarmored figure, leading the lines, his occasional order to push or to hold that flank barking across the battle.

Chapter 57 Nesta laid a hand against her bare, rain-slick throat. Cassian began another assault on a Hybern captain—slower this time than he’d been. Now. I had to go now—quickly. I took a step away from the outlook. My sister narrowed her brows at me. “You’re leaving?” “I’ll be back soon,” was all I said. I didn’t dare wonder how much of our army would be left when I did. By the time I strode away, Nesta had already faced the battle once more, rain plastering her hair to her head. Resuming her unending vigil of the general battling on the valley floor below.

Chapter 61 I squinted at the watery light—the very last before true dark. When my vision adjusted… Nesta stood by the nearest tent, an empty water bucket between her feet. Her hair a damp mess atop her mud-flecked head. Watching us emerge, grim-faced— “He’s fine. Healed and awake,” I said quickly. Nesta’s shoulders sagged a bit. She’d saved me the trouble of hunting her down to ask her about tracking the Cauldron. Better to do it now, with some privacy. Especially before Amren arrived. But Mor said coldly, “Shouldn’t you be refilling that bucket?” Nesta went stiff. Sized up Mor. But Mor didn’t flinch from that look. After a moment, Nesta picked up her bucket, mud caked up to her shins, and continued on, steps squelching.

Chapter 62 Nesta still didn’t move. She could not use the bathtub, she’d told me. Because the memories it dragged up— Cassian said to her, “Nothing can harm you here.” He sucked in a breath, groaning softly, and rose to his feet. Azriel tried to stop him, but Cassian brushed him off and strode for my sister’s side. He braced a hand on the desk when he at last stopped. “Nothing can harm you,” he repeated. Nesta was still looking at him when she finally shut her eyes. I shifted, and the angle allowed me to see what I hadn’t detected before. Nesta stood before the map, a fist of bones and stones clenched over it. Cassian remained at her side—his other hand on her lower back. And I marveled at the touch she allowed—marveled at it as much as I did the mudsplattered hand she held out. The concentration that settled over her face. Her eyes shifted beneath their lids, as if scanning the world. “I don’t see anything.” “Go deeper,” Amren urged. “Find that tether between you.” She stiffened, but Cassian stepped closer, and she settled again. A minute went by. Then another. A muscle twitched on Nesta’s brow. Her hand bobbed. Her breath then came fast and hard, her lips curling back as she panted through her teeth. “Nesta,” Cassian warned.

Chapter 63 Cassian chuckled hoarsely, and looked to Nesta, who remained pale and quiet. What she’d seen, what I’d seen in her mind… The size of that army… “Eat or bed?” Cassian had asked Nesta, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as some invitation. I debated telling him he was in no shape. Nesta only said, “Bed.” And there was certainly no invitation in the exhausted reply.

Chapter 64 “We’ll get her back,” Cassian rasped from where he perched on the rolled arm of the chaise longue across the small sitting area, watching her carefully. Rhys, Amren, and Mor were meeting with the other High Lords, informing them what had been done. Seeing if they knew anything. Had any way of helping. Nesta lowered her hands, lifting her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, lips thin. “No, you will not.” She pointed to the map on the table. “I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no chance of any of you getting into its heart. Even you,” she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. “Especially not when you’re injured.”

Chapter 66 “Good,” Cassian said, glancing at Nesta. “If I end my life defending those who need it most, then I will consider it a death well spent.” Lord Devlon, for once, nodded his approval. I wondered if Cassian noticed it—if he cared. His face revealed nothing, not as his focus remained wholly on my sister.

Chapter 69 During the brief midday break in a large meadow, Nesta and I climbed inside one of the supply caravan’s covered wagons to change into Illyrian fighting leathers. When we emerged, Nesta even buckled a knife at her side. Cassian had insisted, yet he’d admitted that since she was untrained, she was just as likely to hurt herself as she was to hurt someone else.

Chapter 70 Nesta pushed herself onto her elbows, hair shaking free of her braid, lips bloodless. She heaved into the grass. Rhys’s magic shot out of him, arcing around our entire army, his breathing a wet rasp— Nesta’s hands grappled into the grass as she lifted her head, scanning the horizon. Like she could see right to where the Cauldron was now about to be unleashed. Rhys’s power flowed and flowed out of him, bracing for impact. Azriel’s Siphons flashed, a sprawling shield of cobalt locking over Rhysand’s, his breathing just as heavy as my mate’s— And then Nesta began screaming. Not in pain. But a name. Over and over. “CASSIAN.” Amren reached for her, but Nesta roared, “CASSIAN!” She scrambled to her feet, as if she’d leap into the skies. Her body lurched, and she went down, heaving again. A figure shot from the Illyrian ranks, spearing for us, flapping hard, red Siphons blazing— Nesta moaned, writhing on the ground. The earth seemed to shudder in response. No—not in response to her. In terror of the thing that erupted from Hybern’s army. I understood why the king had claimed those rocky foothills. Not to make us charge uphill if we should push them so far. But to position the Cauldron. For it was from the rocky outcropping that a battering ram of death-white light hurled for our army. Just about level with the Illyrian legion in the sky—as the Attor’s legion dropped to the earth, and ducked for cover. Leaving the Illyrians exposed. Cassian was halfway to us when the Cauldron’s blast hit the Illyrian forces. I saw him scream—but heard nothing. The force of that power… It shredded Azriel’s shield. Then Rhysand’s. And then shredded any Siphon-made ones. It hollowed out my ears and seared my face. And where a thousand soldiers had been a heartbeat before… Ashes rained down upon our foot soldiers. Nesta had known. She gaped up at me, terror and agony on her face, then scanned the sky for Cassian, who flapped in place, as if torn between coming for us and charging back to the scattering Illyrian and Peregryn ranks. She’d known where that blast was about to hit. Cassian had been right in the center of it. Or would have been, if she hadn’t called him away. Rhys was looking at her like he knew, too. Like he didn’t know whether to scold her for the guilt Cassian would no doubt feel, or thank her for saving him. Nesta’s body went stiff again, a low moan breaking from her. I felt Rhys cast out his power—a silent warning signal. The other High Lords raised shields this time, backing the one he rallied. But the Cauldron did not hit the same spot twice. And Hybern was willing to incinerate part of his own army if it meant wiping out a strength of ours. Cassian was again hurtling for us, for Nesta sprawled on the ground, as the light and unholy heat of the Cauldron were unleashed again.

Nesta had her brow in the grass as Cassian landed so hard the ground shuddered. He was reaching for her as he panted, “What is it, what—” “It’s gone quiet again,” Nesta breathed, letting Cassian haul her into a sitting position as he scanned her face. Devastation and rage lay in his own. Did he know? That she had screamed for him, knowing he’d come… That she’d done it to save him? Rhys only ordered him, “Get back in line. The soldiers need you there.” Cassian bared his teeth. “What the hell can we do against that?”

Chapter 72 Rhys made to shoot me back down to the ground, where Amren and Elain were still waiting. Nesta said, “Wait.” Rhys obeyed. Nesta stared toward that armada, toward our father fighting in it. “Use me. As bait.” I blinked at the same moment Cassian said, “No.” Nesta ignored him. “The king is probably waiting beside that Cauldron. Even if you get there, you’ll have him to contend with. Draw him out. Draw him far away. To me.” “How,” Rhys said softly. “It goes both ways,” Nesta murmured, as if my mate’s words moments before had triggered the idea. “He doesn’t know how much I took. And if … if I make it seem like I’m about to use his power … He’ll come running. Just to kill me.” “He will kill you,” Cassian snarled. Her hand clenched on his arm. “That’s—that’s where you come in.” To guard her. Protect her. To lay a trap for the king. “No,” Rhys said. Nesta snorted. “You’re not my High Lord. I may do as I wish. And since he’ll sense that you’re with me… You need to go far away, too.” Rhys said to Cassian, “I’m not letting you throw your life away for this.” I was inclined to agree. Cassian surveyed the depleted Illyrian lines, now holding strong as Azriel rallied them. “Az has control of the lines.” “I said no,” Rhys snapped. I’d never heard him use that tone with Cassian, with any of them. Cassian said steadily, “It’s the only shot we have of a diversion. Luring him away from that Cauldron.” His hands tightened on Nesta. “You gave everything, Rhys. You went through that hell for us, for fifty years.” He’d never addressed it—not fully. “You think I don’t know what happened? I know, Rhys. We all do. And we know you did it to save us, spare us.” He shook his head, sunlight glinting off that dark, winged helmet. “Let us return the favor. Let us repay the debt.” “There is no debt to repay.” Rhys’s voice broke. The sound of it cracked my heart. Cassian’s own voice broke as he said, “I never got to repay your mother—for her kindness. Let me do it this way. Let me buy you time.” “I can’t.” I wasn’t sure if in the entire history of Illyria, there had ever been such a discussion. “You can,” Cassian said gently. “You can, Rhys.” He gave a lazy grin. “Save some of the glory for the rest of us.” “Cassian—” But Cassian asked Nesta, “Do you have what you need?” Nesta nodded. “Amren showed me enough. What to do to rally the power to me.” And if Amren and I could control the Cauldron between us… That distraction they’d offer … Nesta looked down to Elain—our sister monitoring the bloodbath ahead. Then to me. She said quietly, “Tell Father—thank you.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Cassian, those gray-blue eyes bright, then they were gone.

Chapter 74 Nesta surged to her feet, staggering across the clearing, blood at her mouth from where he’d hit her, and threw herself to her knees before Cassian. “Get up,” she sobbed, hauling at his shoulder. “Get up.” He tried—and failed. “You’re too heavy,” she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armor. “I can’t—he’s coming—” “Go,” Cassian groaned. Her power had stopped hurling the king across the forest. He now stalked toward them, brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket—taking his time. Knowing she would not leave. Savoring the awaiting slaughter. Nesta gritted her teeth, trying to haul Cassian up once more. A broken sound of pain ripped from him. “Go! ” he barked at her. “I can’t,” she breathed, voice breaking. “I can’t.” The same words Rhys had given him. Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands—to cup her face. “I have no regrets in my life, but this.” His voice shook with every word. “That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.” She didn’t stop him as he leaned up and kissed her—lightly. As much as he could manage. Cassian said softly, brushing away the tear that streaked down her face, “I will find you again in the next world—the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.” The King of Hybern stepped into that clearing, dark power wafting from his fingertips. And even the Cauldron seemed to pause in surprise—surprise or some … feeling as Nesta looked at the king with death twining around his hands, then down at Cassian. And covered Cassian’s body with her own. Cassian went still— then his hand slid over her back. Together. They’d go together. I will offer you a bargain, I said to the Cauldron. I will offer you my soul. Save them. “Romantic,” the king said, “but ill-advised.” Nesta did not move from where she shielded Cassian’s body.

Chapter 80 My sister had barely spoken, barely eaten these past few days. Had not visited Cassian in his healing bed. Still had not talked to me about what had happened.

- END - 

#a court of wings and ruin #acowar #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #a court of silver flames #acosf #feyre archeron #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #a court of frost and starlight #acofas

[tiesandtea]

Simon Gilbert

Simon Says

We interviewed Simon Gilbert, Suede’s drummer, whose book So Young: Suede 1991-1993 is a journal and photographic document of the band’s early years that will be published October 8th. So Young has foreword by journalist Stuart Maconie and a vibrant, lively text by Simon himself, documenting his move from Stratford-on-Avon, his hometown, to London, the audition with Suede, life in the van, the early success years and the many amusing things that come with it. It is one of those rare books that make an outsider feel like they were there, in the van. Or in absurd mansions in L.A. belonging to industry types. Or was it record producer(s)?…

The conversation extended to Coming Up, Suede’s third album that turned 25 this year and drumming. Simon’s witty, often, one-liners contrast with my more elaborate questions, proving an interesting insight into our way of writing/replying.

by Raquel Pinheiro

So Young: Suede 1991-1993

What made you want to realease So Young?

I was searching through my archives when researching for the insatiable ones movies and found lots of old negatives and my diaries. They had to be seen.

When and why did you start your Suede archives?

As you can see from the book, it stared from the very first audition day.

From the concept idea to publishing how long did it took you to put So Young together?

30 years … I’ve always wanted to make a book since I was first in a band.

What was your selection process for which items – diary entries, photos, etc.- would be part of the book?

I wanted to form a story visually with a few bits of info thrown in here and there, also most of the photos tie in with pages from the diaries.

Which methods, storage, preservation, maintenance, if at all, do you employ to keep the various materials in your archives in good shape?

Boxes in an attic … one thing about getting the book out is that I don’t have to worry about the photos getting lost forever. It’s out there in a book!

Other than medium what differences existed between selecting material for The Insatiable Ones documentary and for So Young?

Video and photos … photos don’t translate well on a TV screen.

Do you prefer still or motion pictures and why?

I prefer photos … they capture a particular moment in time … as video does, but there’s a unique atmosphere with a photo.

So Young’s cover photo has a very Caravaggio and ballet feeling to it. Its chiaroscuro also contrasts with the images inside.  Why did you choose it for the cover?

It was a striking shot and I wanted the book to be black and dark …it fitted perfectly.

How many of the photos on So Young were taken by you?

Probably about 3/4 my 3 school friends who were there with me at the beginning Iain, Kathy and Phillip took a load of us onstage, backstage, after  the gig, etc., photos I couldn’t take myself.

So Young can be placed alongside books like Henry Rollins’ Get in The Van and Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life, that not only chronicle and show the less glamorous, more mundane side of being in a band, but also totally immerse the reader so deep in it that we are there, feeling and going through the same things. Was your selection of materials meant to convey that “band being your(our) life” sensation?

Yes, exactly that. I was fascinated by photos of bands, not on the front cover of a magazine or on TV. The other bits of being in a band are far more interesting.

In the foreword, Stuart Maconie mentions the brevity of your diary entries which, as someone who keeps diaries, I immediately noticed. Do you prefer to tell and record a story and events with images?

I haven’t kept a diary since the end of 1993 … looking back on them they can be a bit cringeful … So, yes, I prefer images.

Contrasting with the diary entries brevity your text  that accompanies So Young is lively, witty, detailed and a good description of the struggles of a coming of age, heading towards success, band. Do you think the text and images reveal too much into what it really is like being in a band, destroying the myth a bit?

I think the myth of being in a band is long gone … Reality is the new myth…

In So Young you write that when you first heard Never Mind The Bollocks by The Sex Pistols music was to be your “future dream”. How has the dream been so far?

Still dreaming … lose your dreams and you will lose your mind … like Jagger said.

Is there a reason why So Young only runs from 1991 to 1993?

Yes, I bought a video camera in 1993. It was so much easier filming everything rather than take a photo, wait 3 weeks to get it developed and find out it was blurred.

So Young has a limited deluxe numbered and signed edition already sold out. The non deluxe edition also seems to be heading the same way. How important is it for you to keep a close relationship with the fans?

So important. I love interacting with the fans and is so easy these days … I had to write replies by hand and post them out in 1993…

Playing Live Again & Coming Up

Before Suede’s concert at Qstock Festival in Oulu, Finland on 31.07.2021 you wrote on your social media “cant fucking wait dosnt come close!!!!!” and Mat [Osman, Suede’s bassist] on his “An honest-to-goodness rehearsal for an honest-to-goodness show. Finally”. How did it feel like going back to play live?

It was great. Heathrow was empty which was amazing. A bit strange to play for the first time after 2 years …., but great to get out again.

Coming Up was released 25 years ago. How does the record sound and seems to you now compared with by then?

I haven’t listened to it for a long time actually … love playing that album live … some great drumming.

Before the release of Coming Up fans and the press were wondering if Suede would be able to pull it off. What was your reaction when you first heard the new songs and realize the album was going in quite a different direction than Dog Man Star?

Far too long ago to remember.

Coming Up become a classic album. It even has its own Classical Albums documentary. Could you see the album becoming a classic by then?

I think so yes .. there was always something to me very special about that album.

Is it different to play Coming Up songs after Suede’s return? Is there a special approach to concerts in which a single album is played?

No … didn’t even need to listen to the songs before we first rehearsed … They’re lodged in my brain.

Which is your Coming Up era favourite song as a listener and which one do you prefer as a drummer?

The Chemistry Between Us.

Will the Coming Up shows consist only of the album or will B-sides be played as well?

Definitely some B-sides and some other stuff too.

Simon & Drumming

If you weren’t a drummer how would your version of “being the bloke singing at the front” be like?

Damned awful … I auditioned as a singer once, before I started drumming … It was awful!

In his book Stephen Morris says that all it takes to be a drummer is a flat surface and know how to count. Do you agree?

No.

Then, what makes a good drummer?

Being in the right band.

Topper Headon of the Clash is one of your role models. Who are the others?

He is, yes … fantastic drummer.

Charlie Watts is the other great …and Rat Scabies … superb.

She opens with drums so does Introducing the band. Your drumming gives the band a distinctive sound. How integral to Suede’s sound are the drums?

Well, what can I say … VERY!

Do you prefer songs that are driven by the drums or songs in which the drums are more in the background?

Bit of both actually … I love in your face stuff like She, Filmstar …, but ikewise, playing softer stuff is very satisfying too.

You’re not a songwriter. How much freedom and input do you have regarding drum parts?

If the songs needs it, I’ll change it.

Do you prefer blankets, towels or a pillow inside the bass drum?

Pillows.

Do you use gaffer tape when recording? If so, just on the snare drum or also on the toms? What about live?

Lots of the stuff … gaffer tape has been my friend both live and in the studio for 30 years.

What is the depth of your standard snare drum and why?

Just got a lovely 7-inch Bog wood snare from Repercussion Drums … sounds amazing. It is a 5000 year old Bog wood snare.

Standard, mallets, rods or brushes?

Standard. I hate mallets and rods are always breaking after one song. Brushes are the worst …no control.

How many drum kits have you owned? Of those, which is your favourite?

5 … my fave is my DW purple.

How long to you manage without playing? Do you play air drums?

7 years 2003 – 2010 … and never.

Can you still assemble and tune your drum kit?

Assemble, yes …tune no …have never been any good at that.

You dislike digital/electronic drum kits, but used one during the pandemic. Did you become more found of them?

Still hate them … unfortunately,  they are a necessary evil.

When you first joined Suede you replaced a drum machine. Would it be fair to say you didn’t mind taking its job?

Fuck him!

Brett [Anderson, Suede’s singer] as described the new album as “nasty, brutish and short”. How does that translates drums wise?

Very nasty brutish and short.

When researching for the interview I come across the statement below on a forum: “If you’re in a band and you’re thinking about how to go about this, get every player to come up with their own track list & have a listening party. I’ve done this, not only is it great fun, it’s also massively insightful when it comes to finding out what actually is going on inside the drummer’s head!”. What actually is going on inside the drummer’s head?

Where’s my fucking lighter!

And what is going on inside the drummer as a documentarist head? How does Simon, the drummer, differs from Simon, the keen observer of his own band, bandmates, fans, himself, etc.?

There is no difference … I’m Simon here there and everywhere…

What would the 16 years old Simon who come to London think of current Simon? What advice would you give to your younger self?

Don’t smoke so much you fool!

#simon gilbert #suede #so young book

[blouisparadise]

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words 

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words 

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list. 

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words 

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words 

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list. 

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words 

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words 

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words 

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words 

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words 

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words 

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words 

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words 

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words 

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words 

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words 

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words 

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words 

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words 

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words 

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words 

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words 

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words 

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words 

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words 

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words 

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words 

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words 

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words 

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words 

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words 

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

[ontowanderlust]

How to say I love you (5)

A/N:  Look, I don’t intend to change what’s written below and just above the story itself. You guys have to bear with this long ass introduction every time. On some unrelated news, first story of 2021! Whoop! Watch me as I update this one next year. lmao no. I’ll try my best to write the next prompt. Oh and as far as I know, this one serves as an AU since S2 is released. 

Stay safe people!

Special thanks to:  @grimpower-s .  My super duper proofreader! My beta! You are simply the best person to ever exist! Thanks for putting up with my mushroom tendencies! Pop pop!

One of the reasons why I haven’t posted this was because of the sucky title. Let me know if you guys have better ideas. The other reason was   just I’m too lazy to post this. My betas knew that I had a name written here but I had to revert to second person since… this is tumblr.   (Though, the last name is predetermined already, don’t fight me on   this.) Let me know if this sucks or if you guys like it.

Also some reminders:

Five is eighteen in this fic

The apocalypse had already happened

(Spoiler) They are sent back in time

And  there are some of the 43 involved in this fic- there are 16 actually. Find them all and hit me in my asks if you knew the reference of the names.

Alternatively: 7 times he confessed and the 1 time she accepted his confession / 8 ways to say I Love You

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Prompt: This prompt is brought to you by R. McKinley (you write beautifully, may I just say) and @chickenshit​‘s photo edit. I did say that I’m gonna write something about this, right?

=Masterlist=

Despite her being great at nearly everything, hearing is not one of them. (Which her whole family can attest to. Either because they had to repeat themselves for her to hear them or they had to shout to gain her attention.)

When Five first noticed that trait of hers, he had theorised that she liked to practice selective hearing whenever she's around people, in which she debunked and confessed that she just liked to crank the volume of her earphones up to its maximum capacity. 

When asked why, she would simply shrug and playfully say that it's easier to keep people away from her. (Five thinks she just liked internalising the songs she listened to... just like his brother, Klaus, much to his dismay)

Regardless of her quite near deafness, she still liked using earphones whenever she felt like it. Several people had already tried to rid her bad habit by giving her speakers on some occasions but she insisted on using earphones whenever she listened to music. Much louder that way, she would often say. 

And so, it wasn't a surprise for him to hear faint harmonies of trumpets and cellos as he rounded up the corner of her family's mansion, finding himself witnessing what seemed to be a private moment for her. 

Now, having grown up under the tutelage of one Reginald Hargreeves- the most stubborn and strict father in the entire universe and maybe even in some parallel and alternate realities too- Five never had the luxury of appreciating the mundane things people speak of. 

It was always training, enhancing his abilities and missions for him. 

And then, there's that apocalypse mishap. 

In the end, he couldn't understand what 'mundane' meant. 

...until now. 

There, in the middle of the kitchen she stood, looking as radiant as always- what with her hair thrown lazily in a low ponytail, her eyes still laced with remnants of sleep, and her clothes as ruffled as can be, dancing along to the music in her ears. 

Looking at her now, he would've had a hard time telling that she had snuck out in the dead of the night, her inner demons getting the best of her and now here she was, dancing without a care in the world.

Why was he here anyway?

Oh yeah, he needed to speak with that brazen older brother of hers. 

He needed to talk to Jack- he really, really needed to talk to her brother- however, for some reason it felt like his feet were glued on the spot, his eyes never leaving her figure as if he was entranced by a fae dancing by the morning light. 

Just as he became in tuned with her presence, he knew that this girl had developed a keen sense of his whereabouts because the next thing he knew, he was being pulled towards her- where on earth did this unnecessary strength come from?- and tugged him into some weird poorly choreographed dance moves. 

He knew that with her upbringing, she excelled in social dancing, the same way Reginald had painstakingly ingrained social dancing upon him and his siblings so why did it feel like she's been born with two left feet instead?

He had to admit, social dancing is something he has adequate skills in but dancing in general had never been his strong suit and yet, having been pulled into an impromptu dance party, he found himself not hating it. 

It felt silly- him dancing to a faint and almost non-existent music in the middle of someone else's kitchen but seeing her smiling at him, mouthing the words to the song, and satisfied with him dancing along with her, made everything feel less silly. 

He didn't know what prompted the feeling- was it her radiant smile? Or the way she closed her eyes as her face morphed into the appropriate emotion to the song she was mouthing to, or the stray melody that would leave her mouth unintentionally or maybe... just the way the situation all felt so raw- so candid to him. 

He just felt the need- the overpowering emotion taking over his system. It's not like she's gonna hear the words, right? Afterall, she's as deaf as she could be.

"I love you,"

There was a sharp intake of breath- one that never came from him but rather from the girl in front of him, her feet skidded slightly from the miscalculated momentum from the sudden halting of her movements, her mouth slightly agape while he scrambled to catch her should she fall. 

He couldn't have gotten a better timing, as soon as the words left his lips, the faint music he had been hearing disappeared all of the sudden- a sign that her performance had come to an end. 

Grimacing, he let out a residual laugh- one that could be mistaken from his stolen breath. "-r shirt. Is it new?" he added hastily though they both knew it was too late, stumbling on the words and he wasn't quick enough to salvage his embarrassment. 

Silence engulfed them as she reached out, closing her phone and effectively putting the playlist into pause, tilting her head at him with a smirk playing upon her lips.

"I never thought I'd see the day where dear little Five Hargreeves complimenting my shirt," she drawled slowly, eyes sweeping over him. "Seriously?"

She's giving him an out- another chance to compose himself and deny what had been uttered in a moment's weakness. 

"I love you," the words came out slow as if he was readying himself to whatever cover he would be spitting out. "For not stomping on my feet like a savage person." he tried taking on a slightly chiding tone, hoping this time, it would be believable than the first one. 

Pathetic, he wanted to scoff. He's been saying this phrase for what? Five times now and yet, this girl couldn't even take a hint. Honestly, is it that hard to believe?

Or maybe he's not trying hard enough?

She simply stared at him- her eyes seemingly searching for answers, baring his soul easily despite the walls he had built around him. 

She let out a laugh. "Gosh, you're hopeless," she stated, reaching for the extra mug she had prepared. "Jack's waiting for you in the backyard." she waved at him, pointing him to where her brother is. 

As he took his leave, he couldn't help but feel a slight pang of remorse.  I love you, he wanted to repeat. I love you so much. 

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy imagines #tua fanfiction #tua fanfic #number five #number five hargreeves #number five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #number five x reader

[shreddedparchment]

Of Two Minds Pt. 06

You’re Not Alone

06/16/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Steve          Word Count: 7,713

Masterpost          Warnings: sexual descriptions, violence, language, ANGST!

A/N: Since there is only one or two more chapters for this one, I think I’m going to finish this one out before I go back to Parallel and the Brightest Star. That’s not to say I’m not working on either of those. I am. But I’ll focus on posting these first since it’s almost over. I hope you like this one. Also, I legit didn’t edit so, mind the typos. I’ll come back and read it tomorrow when I’m not so crosseyed. If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky’s waiting in the small living room of the floor you share with him and Steve.

He's sitting on the sofa, black cargo covered legs spread wide. Feet flat on the ground and his hands tucked under his strong arms, crossed over his chest.

He’s not making any attempt to hide his displeasure. The rough tick in his jaw, the glare he has aimed at the TV is really for you and Steve. You know it is.

But why is he angry? Holding hands at the meeting?

When he turns it on you, that raging scowl, you release Steve’s hand as guilt builds inside your belly.

“Bucky?” You probe carefully, searching hopefully, despite his anger.

“Sounded like you were having fun. I was gonna go get you but Captain Spangled beat me there.” He’s bitter.

Oh no. Your heart stops as you realize that he must have seen. Must have heard.

What did you do?

The jealous sting in his voice you expect and the harsh glare thrown at you and Steve is more than understandable.

“Bucky…” You begin, but you don’t get much further.

“No.” He says, flat, unfeeling. For the first time in many years, you see the Winter Soldier.

The Soldat is diluted in Bucky. Suppressed. Bucky is almost free of him after years of careful reconditioning and therapy and recovery, but he’s there. Cold. Distant. And you did this to him.

You.

You’re scum. You’re shit. You’re selfish. You’re greedy. You’re the worst kind of person on the planet.

You’re sorry but you don’t regret what you did with Steve.

You need to fix this.

“Bucky…please…” You beg, moving towards him.

He allows you to step up to him. He doesn’t pull back when you take hold of his forearms. You see the subtle shift in his eyes as your touch weakens his armor. The muscles beneath your hands tighten however, tense.

“Please. I love you. I will never stop loving you.” You promise.

You know it’s not enough but you want it to be. You want your words to heal his hurt. You need for him to trust in that because you love Steve, it doesn’t take away from how you feel for him. For Bucky.

“No.” Bucky says, finality in his tone.

It guts you. A knife plunged into the soft fleshy bits of you, twisted and yanked pulling with it everything that makes you whole and happy.

“Buck-" Steve tries but when Bucky’s ice-like eyes find his warm storm blues, he stops talking.

“I said no. My answer,” He looks back down at you and speaks to injure. He wants it to hurt you and you can’t blame him. “Is no.”

You had already known that what you shared with Steve down by the lake, in Brazil, and last night cuddled safely in his arms would be all you’d get.

You’d known it and it still hurts. It’s still agonizing.

“You’re gonna leave me now, right?” Bucky spits.

You’ve never seen him so angry and his rage burns you. It takes lashes at you, scarring you.

You don’t want to leave him. Of course, you don’t!

You’d talked a big game but now that you’re facing the choice, you can’t make your feet move. You want them both but the idea of walking away from Bucky is unbearable.

You won’t do that to him. You can’t.

You cry, tears spilling quick and sudden as you grip his arms harder, trying to pull him closer but he’s a statue. Immovable. Michelangelo’s David. Cut and perfect and stoic.

“No…” Your guttural sob chokes you.

How do you walk away? How do you live your life knowing they’re both somewhere loving someone else? They’re yours. Both of them. Bucky is forever emblazoned into your heart. If he leaves you, he takes it with you, leaving a shell.

Steve is your soul. He knows your inner thoughts. He knows your impulses. He knows your darkness and your light. You want him to know your love. Your most vulnerable self, unshielded, ready to surrender to his love and to love him with abandon.

You want to be spread out beneath him as he takes you as one. As part of himself. Like you already are with Bucky. Intimate and private and personal.

And Bucky! Bucky needs to see your inner workings. You want to show him your darkness and to find out if he can still love it. Love you. How can you choose? How can you leave?

But how can you stay?!

“-I l-love you, baby, please don’t push me away.” You plead.

Bucky huffs, pulls your hands away from his body and moves around you.

“BUCKY!” You cry, a torn whisper, half crazed with the thought of losing him forever.

You drop onto the sofa, fisting the plush cushion with writhing claws. Your crying is loud and ugly and you didn’t know you could die and still somehow be alive.

You scream into the sofa because you don’t know what else to do. Bucky took your strength with him. You’d chase after him but your body won’t obey. It’s broken.

It’s full of pain, confusion, but mostly guilt because this is all your fault.

He saw you and Steve. Bucky did.

He heard you. He was there. He saw Steve touch you and you touch Steve in ways that are only his.

Why are you so horrible? Why do you do this? Why can you only destroy?

You hear Steve leave too. On some plane of consciousness, you're aware of him banging on Bucky’s door. You hear the door open and then slamming and then a small muted ruckus. Then silence.

The silence is punctured only by your sobbing. Eventually that stops too and you’re very aware of the fact that it’s either very late or really early.

You shut your eyes and fall asleep. Emotionally spent.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re awoken by the gentle shake of a familiar hand. It’s not big. Not Steve. Definitely not Bucky.

“Y/N wake up. We got’im. We know where he is.” Nat takes her hand back and watches as you sleepily sit yourself up.

You teeter for a moment; caught between whatever dark dream you’d just woken up from and very real heartbreak you’re in.

“You okay?” She asks, wary either from the look on your face or the way your body seems to stutter.

“Yeah.” You croak. You clear your throat.

“Come on. We’ve got the jet going.”

You look towards the hallway towards the bedrooms. Bucky had stormed off that way and you faintly remember hearing Steve follow him.

“They’re already on the jet. You can change on the way. Come on.” She urges you, a strange gentleness in her voice that tells you she’s very aware of some part of what’s going on with you and your two boys.

No. Not yours. Rejected. And you can’t be with Steve. It wouldn’t be fair to Bucky.

You sigh and get to your feet, slightly stung that neither of them woke you up.

The elevator ride down to the hangar is thick with words that need to be said. Not by you.

When she speaks, she’s leaning against the wall, her hands—covered in fingerless tac gloves—squeeze the metal bar along behind her.

“I-I’m sorry.” Her voice is pleading, guilty. Like you feel.

“For what?” You look at her, eyes bleary from sleep. You hadn’t even bothered to look at what time it is.

“I pushed him to go on that mission with you. I’ve been trying to get him to do something…about the way he feels about you, for a long time.” Nat flexes her jaw, then looks down at her feet before meeting you with an apologetic green gaze. “He told me that he kissed you. To make Bucky jealous? To help you two along? I could see how miserable he was and I just…”

“It’s not your fault, Nat.” You look away from her to stare at the metal doors. You did this to all of you. You. No one else.

“It’s okay, you know? Loving both of them.”

And you don’t know how it can be okay. Nothing is okay. For one fleeting moment, you think it might be better to be dead than without either of them.

The thought scares you and you gasp lightly.

“Y/N?” Nat moves towards you, placing her hand on your lower back. “You okay? You look a little green.”

“I’m fine.” You growl, not meaning to but you’re so angry at yourself.

Angry for hurting Bucky. Angry for loving Steve and hurting him too. Angry because this isn’t you. You’re not a quitter. You’re a fighter. You’ll leave, just like you said you would.

Not forever. Never forever.

You just need to get some distance. You need space. You need time to think. Maybe Bucky and Steve need time, too?

Maybe being away from you will help things be clearer?

“Y/N?” Nat probes, leaning forward to look at your face because you’re still folded forward.

“I said I’m fine.” You push her hand away and as the elevator opens you move out with wobbly feet but find your stride halfway to the jet.

“About time.” Tony snarks, in full iron armor as he steps onto the jet.

He stands aside and watches you board but with his helmet off, you can see the confusion on his face from whatever expression you’re wearing.

You move for the back-left corner of the jet where a small compartment slides out for spare uniforms.

“Hey, pouty. What’s got your mood all puckered?” Sam asks, giving you a passing glance but quickly taking in your mood.

You don’t answer him.

Very aware of your surroundings, you take note of Bucky standing at the front of the jet, hand on the back of the left pilot’s chair where Sam sits. The right left open for Nat when she boards shortly after you.

He doesn’t turn to look at you as you come on board. He’s mad at you. You get it.

Steve sits on the right side of the jet, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. They’re both dressed in full mission gear but neither of them looks at you and it stings so painfully that you blink hard to chase away the tears that accompany the ache.

Fine. If that’s how they both want to play this, then you are more than happy to oblige.

You strip, not caring who may be looking. First to go are your jeans, then your white t-shirt. You still haven’t changed since your encounter with Steve by the lake.

As the back hatch closes and Tony climbs on, sans uniform which has tucked itself back into its nano-housing on his chest, he moves towards you. He leans against the wall of the jet, shielding your semi-nakedness from the rest of the team.

“Are you good?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me if I’m alright? I’m fine!” You shout.

You don’t mean to snap but your fuse is already short enough with Bucky and Steve having left Nat to wake you and both of them not even sparing you a glance. Maybe you deserve it? Maybe you don’t?

Either way, it ticks you off, and the gnawing guilt in your chest only serves to strengthen your sour mood.

You shove your clothes into the small compartment and pull the Kevlar tac suit on. Holsters fastened and guns slipped in place. Tony continues to watch you.

“Are you getting laid?” He asks, eyes narrowed. “Helps with stress. Are you stressed?”

You frown at him and move around him, ignoring the way he smirks because you don’t want to snap at him again.

“Where are Vision and Wanda?” You wonder, asking no one in particular but hoping that Bucky or Steve will answer.

“Scouting ahead.” Nat says, no hint of your rudeness with her earlier. “They’ll meet us at the safe zone then move in with us.”

You walk over to her and as soon as you enter his periphery, Bucky turns and walks away. He moves over to the right side of the jet and sits himself as far away from Steve as possible. Ramrod straight, metal hand clenching and unclenching.

The drop your heart does takes your breath away.

All of your anger seems to disappear instantly as that painful stinging returns to the inner corners of your eyes. You shut them, urging yourself to stay professional. You can’t focus on what’s happening with you and Bucky and Steve right now.

Aaron must be the focus.

“Where are we going?” You ask Nat and your voice is a gasp.

When she turns to look at you, you can see her take note of the spot Bucky had just stood in and then frowns as she finds him sitting as far away from you and Steve as possible. When she meets your eyes, the look of solidarity and sympathy is piercing.

“Rio. Or more specifically, Cabo Frio.” She states, pulling up a map of South America. On the bottom-right corner of Brazil’s Eastern coast is a not so small city with beautiful beaches, and crystal blue-green waters.

“What’s in Cabo Frio?” You wonder, forcing yourself to focus on the display in front of her.

Since you can’t choose Steve and Bucky won’t let you choose him anymore, you choose Aaron. That’s where you’ll devote your energy. Besides, the more you think about Aaron, the less aware you are of the empty feeling in your chest.

“It’s what wasn’t in Cabo Frio six months ago?” Nat moves the map to the East and about thirty miles from shore to empty, dark blue ocean. “This was the South Atlantic six months ago.”

She presses a few buttons with sleek black polished nails and the map changes on where there was nothing there is now a small island.

“This is the South Atlantic now.”

“So, we’re flying to that island?” You wonder, reaching out to zoom the map in.

“That’s not an island.” Sam says to your left.

You keep zooming in and find yourself staring at the largest ship you have ever seen.

“Is that a ship?” You gasp, zooming in more.

“Longer than the Sears Tower is tall.” Nat says. “We’re pretty sure that’s where the drugs are coming from.”

You blink, stunned by the size, the ingenious of using a ship to manufacture drugs.

Pulling anchor and moving on is so easy. If someone gets wind of you, you just float away.

“Are we going straight to the ship?”

“No.” Nat says.

“They’ve got a base inland where we got aerial footage of your mark making drops. We’ll go there first, scope that out, take it if we can. Then we’ll take the ship. We want to cut off communication with the base on shore so that we can sneak up on the ship. We don’t want one warning the other.” Tony says, sidling up behind you.

Turning to look at him, you frown. “That’s stupid. Once they lose communication with the base, they’ll move on. Why don’t we just split up? Half of us can take the ship. The other half of us can take the base.”

“It’s too risky.” Nat shakes her head, worry painting her green eyes dark jade. “Something goes wrong, we won’t have backup.”

“Where’s Bruce?” You wonder. “Looking around.”

Steve and Bucky are standing closer, interested in the conversation now that it’s turned to the mission. You hate them a little for meeting your eyes. For tearing your heart in two and then having the audacity to look at you with nothing but business on their minds.

The feeling lasts only a second because your mind is also on business. Once the shock of having them looking at you and listening as if it matters what you say has passed, you bring your gaze to Tony.

“He’s with Wanda, scoping out the base.” He says.

“And Thor?”

“With Vision, checking out the ship.”

“Well, call them back. Is there a safe zone where we can meet up with them?” You ask, inadvertently taking charge of the mission.

“Yeah, about twenty miles outside of the city.” Nat says, flicking the map to the small warehouse to serve as a temporary base.

“Call them. Get them there.”

“I don’t know if splitting up is such a good idea.” Sam says, voicing his concern for probably all of them.

“Rhodey?” You ask Tony, ignoring Sam for now.

“Called away. He won’t be here.”

“Nat?” You lean towards her again, staring out at the darkening horizon.

A quick glance at the clock tells you that your heartbreak made you sleep straight through breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Your stomach aches and gurgles, but you ignore it. No one cares that you didn’t eat. You don’t care either.

“Get us to that safe zone.” You order and she happily obeys.

Steve doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to say to make all of this better. If he hadn’t insisted on pleasuring you outside then maybe Bucky wouldn’t have shut you out so harshly.

He knows that Bucky doesn’t mean it. The no is tentative. It had been spoken in haste and in jealousy and anger.

Steve’s already kind of changed his mind. Not really, but before Tony had called about Aaron, he’d thought he could see Bucky wavering.

Bucky loves you, and as much as he hates that you love him, Steve, he can’t fight that. Steve can’t understand Bucky’s resistance.

Of course, Steve doesn’t want to share you either. You were his firsts. Maybe not officially, but in every way other than sexual, you’d been his. You’d fallen asleep in his arms before Bucky’s. You’d stretched out on his bed and spent hours reading or watching shows or movies with him before Bucky was there to do all that with you.

He’d taken you on your first mission. He’d patched up your first wounds. He’d kissed you—yes, he had though you’d been asleep and didn’t know about it—way before he did it to coax Bucky’s jealousy.

He’d held you when you cried. He’d laughed at your jokes. He’d loved you in every way possible without telling you out loud before Bucky even came into the picture.

No. Steve doesn’t want to share you. But you love Bucky. How can he deny you what you want?

Bucky also needs you. More than Steve thinks even Bucky knows.

He needs to give in. He needs to hold onto you. If Steve needs to step aside, he will. If he has to listen to you and Bucky make love for the rest of his life, then he’ll do that. So long as you don’t leave.

Steve understands Bucky. More than he might think. Steve knows that you’re his light. He knows that Bucky can’t really live without you.

He hates to see Bucky struggle. So, he gave in. He surrendered. For you. For Bucky.

While you’d cried and then fallen into a restless sleep, Steve had promised his best friend that he wouldn’t touch you again. He’d stay away. He’d leave when you were a little better and could handle his leaving, and he’d stop interfering.

Bucky had only stared. Searching. Angry, but listening.

Steve can see the admiration in Bucky’s eyes as you take charge right now. You hadn’t been given this mission to lead but you’d taken up the reigns on your own and dove headfirst. You’re so strong. In so many ways.

As you cross towards them again, a dusty cloud of years’ worth of muck kicked up as you move over the filthy warehouse floor, Steve stands up straighter. Bucky across from him, leaning against the steel support beam trying to look as casual as he can with his hands shoved into his pockets, also stands straighter despite his attempts at playing it cool.

Like him, Steve knows that Bucky’s vowed to put all this drama aside. For the mission. For you.

“We hold out until we all reach our targets. We attack at the same time and take who we can. How sure are we that Aaron is going to be at the base and not on the ship?” Steve hasn’t spoken since he boarded the jet.

He’s trying to step back but so is Bucky. That’s not what he wanted.

“There’s no way to know. We spotted him the one time but haven’t seen him since. He could be on either site or neither.” Nat says, standing tall with her arms crossed over her full chest.

“How will we split the teams? Let’s get this going. I want to rip some heads.” Thor declares and you look at him then appraise the rest of the group.

Steve stands a little taller as your eyes scan him and then you speak. “I’ll take point on the base in the city. Tony? You think you can take the ship team?”

“Is that a serious question?” He quips.

“Good.”

“Bruce, you should go with Tony. They’ll need the extra muscle on the ship. It’s a large space.” Steve thinks that’s a good all.

Even with the Hulk tamed, Bruce can throw his weight around well.

“Nat, Wanda, will the two of you also go with Tony?” You order, and before you can speak again, Bucky cuts in.

“Me too.” He says, voice hard and quiet.

Steve can see the uncertain shift in your eyes. The pain that flashes out at Bucky as he stares you down.

For a few horrible seconds, Steve doesn’t breathe. Will this break you? Bucky hasn’t said a word to you. He hasn’t reached out. He’s barely looked at you.

Steve caught you struggling on the jet and now Bucky doesn’t even want to be on mission with you?

The way your mouth opens as if to speak then shuts again with a flex of your jaw, Steve knows that you’re trying hard to keep it together.

“Fine.” You say, your voice hard now too.

What the fuck is Bucky doing? He’s going to drive you away. Is that his plan? He’ll break you. Can’t he see that?

“The rest of you are with me.” You say, disappointment on the furthest fringes of your tone.

Steve knows you’d rather have Bucky with you. Yet, he takes comfort in knowing that he’ll be able to keep his eye on you. Just like old times. He’ll have your back.

Things do not go well. It’s almost as if you’ve offended God…or the Gods. Your mind shoots to Thor chaotically as everything falls apart.

There is no one on the ship.

No one.

Bruce, in controlled Hulk form, Tony, Bucky, Nat, and Wanda search the ship as quickly as possible with the help of Tony’s thermal scans.

The base on the other hand?

It’s packed. There are more guys than the five of you can handle.

For a little bit in the beginning, when Thor barrels through a large heavy iron door to expose what must be nearly three hundred workers in the largest room of the base, you think maybe all isn’t lost.

Thor can handle these guys no problem. You’ve seen him take on more. Worse. Stronger. Faster.

Then the twins show up. White dark chocolate skin, stark platinum blonde hair, piercing red eyes, and evil sneers create a terrifying image.

You’ve never seen them before. Illuminated collars around their necks that glow venom green come undone and then they chase Thor up through the roof and into the dark night skies leaving you, Steve, and Vision to fight fast and hard.

Vision grabs thugs at random, by the neck, then flings them up into the air to watch them drop. He flies down, sweeping long crippling tackles through ten, fifteen guys at once. You and Steve do your best to hold them off.

Steve fairs better, his strength super. You’re skilled, very much so, but you can only move as fast as your body will let you.

Each of the twins is followed by a stream of sunshine yellow light that seems to originate from their hands and feet. This propels them upwards, or that’s what you’d originally guessed.

It reminds you of Wanda but not exactly. The light is too thick. Solid. Like those lasers from Tron but that’s not possible because that’s just a movie.

And yet, when Sam goes tumbling out of the sky as he attempts to help Thor fight the twins, his wings hit a line of light and impossibly, inexplicably, the wings are severed. Halfway along their length, the left wing is clipped, and Sam goes tumbling down towards the ground. Too high. Too far.

Vision breaks away from you and Steve to intercept his fall, but he’s suddenly tackled out of flight by one of the twins, streaming across the large room and into a wave of thugs.

“Sam! Your chute!” You shout, scared and desperate for him as he falls.

He grows closer and when he talks you can hear the wind whistling past him.

He’ll die.

“I’m trying. It’s jammed!” He cries, his voice strong and controlled despite the panic that must be coursing through him.

There are grunts and pulls, punches, kicks, the occasional gunshot, as the thugs continue to attack you.

You fight harder. You somehow make yourself move faster.

“Steve, catch him!” You shout, desperate for Sam.

“We’re almost there.” Tony’s voice comes over your comms. He’s within range.

The hesitancy in Steve’s choice to do as you ask is so quick that no one would have noticed it. You see it because you know him. You love him. You know what he’s thinking.

I won’t leave you alone. He thought. Then he probably played the argument over in his head and realized that you’d dive underneath Sam and kill yourself in the process if it would mean his survival.

What other choice does he have than to do as you ask?

He sprints off towards Sam, leaping through a large broken window on the second floor. You glance him as he catches Sam, crashing into the ground outside.

Sixty thugs break away, race towards them to take advantage of the fall.

“Vision get back to Y/N.” Steve orders.

Vision is busy. You can see him shooting yellow beams at thug after thug. You hear the sing of his light, the sizzle of it’s burn. You smell the char of skin accompanied by the cries of pain.

He’s all the way on the other side of the large factory-like room.

“Vision!” Steve shouts, his fear for you more prominent than he probably means it to be.

You’re too busy to respond or react to his struggle. You’re dripping with sweat. Beads of effort build along your temples and forehead and trickle down along your skin, coating it with grime as dust is kicked up by your feet and that of your opponents.

You’re huffing with exhaustion already. Your arms are tired. Your legs are weak from taking so many hits. Blocking and returning. Your legs are suddenly yanked out from beneath you.

You scream.

“Y/N!” Steve calls out.

“I’m going.” Thor assures him that he’s on his way to you. “Gah!”

He’s knocked off course by the twin he’s been fighting, unable to get to you.

You get back to your feet, blocking punches and kicks before one lands hard on your chest. It sends you flying back. You gasp for air and loud heavy thud echoes around you.

The ringing in your ears is so distracting that although you lift up your hands to fight, you blink hard and try to remember where you are.

Someone throws a punch, a no one. You block it with your left forearm, then throw a hard right hook. It’s too strong, your arm moving lazily towards its target with zero control in strength.

The movement spins you to your left and you stumble backwards until strong arms catch you.

Your heart soars.

Bucky. You think with relief then shift your head back to look at your man to find your mark.

Aaron, Hawaiian God. Mass murderer. Crime lord. Not Bucky. Not Steve.

He smirks at you, gleeful that he’s caught you. The thugs around you move away, running towards Vision and Sam and Steve.

You can hear people calling you on your earpiece, but your head won’t focus.

Why?

There’s a flash of a memory. Your head violently hitting a large steel support beam. The explosion in your brain as you’re concussed, and green eyes transfix your addled mind as you pass out.

You dream of a snake with sea-green eyes. It hisses and laughs. Ssss-sss-ssssss.

Bucky can feel Bruce’s loud cry reverberate in his chest. It shakes his heart and reminds him that it’s there. Not like he could ever really forget.

Hearing Steve’s panic over the comms trying to get any one of his team members back to where you’d been fighting fills Bucky with dread. It chokes his heart. It aches painfully with a fear unlike he’s ever known.

Where are you?

He scans the room as Bruce stampedes through, swinging and making bodies fly. He tears through them like they were made of paper and he can begin to hear shouts of fear. The large group of thugs begin to run, making for exits and windows and holes in the walls.

Tony flies off to help Thor with what looks like twin men, sickly thing with dark skin and glowing eyes. Wanda and Vision join him while Nat, Steve, Bucky, and Sam meet in the middle of the large factory room where you’d been fighting.

“Where is she?!” Steve asks, screaming desperate and fearful.

Bucky’s stomach twists at the sound of terror in Steve’s cry because it’s his cry too.

“Where is she?! Nat? Do you see her?” Steve is fighting through the crowd, Sam pushing and punching.

Nat kicking and spinning her way towards the spot where Steve is standing.

“No.” Nat replies, grunting as she catches a thug in the chest with her knee then plunges a knife into his thigh as he tries to kick.

“Sam?”

“Nothing this way, Steve.”

“Bucky?”

But Bucky can’t answer his voice is caught in his throat. It’s a lump, building rapidly into grief and denial as he tries to convince his mind that what he thinks has happened hasn’t really happened.

He angrily grabs a thug’s throat as he runs by. He squeezes, the plates in his metal arm groaning and shifting as he glares up at the low life.

“Where is she?” He says low and angry. There’s death in his tone.

The thug claws at Bucky’s hand unable to fight it. He shakes his head and Bucky can’t help it. He squeezes too hard. He hears a sickening crack and then drops the limp body to the floor.

Steve finds him and he looks over Bucky’s shoulder as Bucky catches another thug.

“Where is she?” He asks again.

“Buck?” Steve asks, desperate for reassurance.

The second thug also has no answers for him. Bucky squeezes again.

As this body falls to the ground, Steve reaches out to turn Bucky towards him.

Bucky lets him. He meets his eyes, Steve standing with both hands gripping the sides of Bucky’s shoulders. He’s heaving, breathing hard and heavy from his fight to find you. He’s sweating and dirty and he fought hard while Bucky was stuck on some decoy ship doing nothing and letting you get taken.

“Buck?” Steve asks, searching his ice blues for that assurance that everything is going to be okay.

Bucky can’t give it to him, and he lets the mask fall for a second as he sees the same heartache and agony mirrored in Steve’s face. He opens his mouth to speak, to say something that might alleviate this black cloud over them as the last of the thugs are chased out by Bruce.

Instead his lower lip quivers and Steve falls to his knees.

“No.” Steve gasps.

“He took her.” Bucky realizes. He knew it the moment that you stopped responding to their calls. He knew it when you sent Steve to catch Sam. He knew that you wouldn’t be here when he arrived, and he can’t believe he left you alone.

If he’d been here, if he hadn’t been so stubborn, if he’d been willing to just try to accept that Steve—this broken man clutching at his feet as he struggles to breathe and what must be an astounding feeling of failure—loved you just as much as he did and that he had as much right to show it as he himself did, then you’d still be here.

You’d have had both of them at your side and when Steve had gone to save Sam, Bucky would have been there to keep you safe.

“No.” Steve cries. Really cries. His voice hitches. His hands are vices around Bucky’s ankles as he clings desperately to the only piece of you left. “Buck…no.”

Bucky falls to his knees to but to straighten Steve up. He can’t have him like this.

“We’ll get her back, Steve.” He promises him.

“We don’t even know where to start looking.” Steve points out and Bucky can see the dead in his eyes.

Now he can see what you’ve been meaning, what you’ve been saying Steve is to you. For the first time since this whole mess started, Bucky can see how much more claim Steve has on you and strangely, it doesn’t hurt.

It makes him feel better that someone on this team will be more desperate than him to find you. Someone else on this team will sacrifice life and limb to get you back.

“You’re not alone, Steve.” Bucky tells him, giving him a shake. “We’ll get her back. Together.”

Someone is talking. Someone is speaking directly to you as if you’re capable of listening. Never mind the fact that you’ve been completely unconscious until this moment.

Aaron.

“-trust easily. It’s nothing personal. I just need to make sure that you can’t punch me. Are the straps too tight?” He asks, deep booming voice actually concerned.

You feel tugs at your wrists as he checks large nylon straps. They’re thick and to Steve and Bucky and almost all of your friends they would be nothing but to you, a human, with no real super strength, they’re enough.

“Where-?”

“You’re on my ship.” He replies, a smile in his voice.

It’s like his statement brings to attention the gentle swaying, the smell of brine, and the groan of metal in water.

It creeps you out how he sounds like he’s making conversation with an old friend. Someone he can joke around with and have some fun.

In his defense, the last time you’d seen him face-to-face, he’d been about to eat you out.

“There was no one on the ship.” You say, confused.

“Oh, not that ship. That was a fake. I put it there in case someone like you and your team came lookin’ for me.” Aaron explains.

You open your eyes and the dim light of a light far away lets you see him. He’s big. Bigger than you remember but that might just be because it’s been a while. Tall. Beautiful copper tanned skin. Long wavy brown hair. Longer than Bucky’s. Tips bleached from too much sun. His beard is thick, well-kept, but longer than when you last saw him. Fuller.

He’s shirtless, tendrils of soft black chest hair scattered over his hard, flexing pectorals.

He’s slouched. Completely relaxed. The flesh of his stomach folded over though even with that small bit of extra muscle and tissue, you can see the chiseled shape of his abs.

Leaning forward, he spreads his legs wide wearing dark pants that look fairly new. He places his hands between his legs. He grips the edge of the chair, curling his shoulders in as he appraises you. He’s too at ease.

Is he not scared you’ll be found? Are you seriously in trouble here?

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re an Avenger? I guess I should have put it together when I woke up the next morning and I couldn’t find my drive. You cost me a lot of money on that Cayman trip.” He informs you.

You stare at him, assessing your options quickly. How can you get out of this?

“How long have I-?”

“Two weeks. You know, this is the fifth time you’ve asked me that. I guess you hit your head pretty hard. I don’t have a doctor on board but as soon as I can get you one, I will.” He promises.

Why is he being so nice.

“You’re new to them, right? Haven’t been part of them long? I’ve never seen you before.” He gets up and moves towards a small metal table bolted down into the floor and against the half black, half red metal wall.

“Yes.” You lie, never mind that you’ve been on many missions with Steve and Nat and the rest of the team. You’d just been kept out of the big ones.

Stupid protective, lovable jerks.

“I knew there was something…that night in my place?” He moves back to you holding a small glass of water.

Your body craves it, almost aches for it.

As he holds it to your lips you push yourself up as much as you can take frantic sips.

You cough, choking on it a little. He takes the glass away and you hate him for it.

“Take it easy. I’ve got plenty of water.” He places the edge back against your lips and this time you’re careful. “So, I don’t know what drug you used to get me to pass out that night but did we-?”

Seriously?! You think, this guy is actually asking you if you slept with him?

Inspiration strikes and as he pulls the now empty glass away from your lips, you nod slowly.

“We did.” You tell him.

He believes you. He puts the glass on a smaller table also bolted down to the floor beside your infirmary bed then licks his lips and leans in closer, hovering over you with is arms on either side of your chest.

“Why did you leave?” He asks, desperate to understand.

“I-I was scared they’d come looking for me. I used to do things for bad people, and they don’t trust me.” The lies come easy. Doing bad things for bad people isn’t a lie, but it’s been much longer than you’re making it seem.

“I can keep you safe.” He sighs, reaching up to smooth the hair away from your face.

It clings to your temples, clammy skin coated in sweat. This is when you realize that you’re not exactly well.

“I’m scared.” You shudder, letting your real fear for your health surface and make your words true.

“Sshh, shhh, I’ve got you, baby.” He traces the shape of your shoulders.

You don’t want to push it too soon because it’ll make him suspicious, but he’s already so primed for it. Fearfully, you throw it out there to see if he’ll take the bait. You pray that Bucky won’t be angry at you for using this tactic that he hates so much.

Then you remember that Bucky is mad at you and that he probably doesn’t care about what you do.

The urge to survive this almost slips away but you know you’re better than that. You can live in a world where Bucky hates you, so long as you know he’s out there. You push through the depression that threatens to overtake you and stick to your plan.

“Can I hold you?” You wonder, pulling against the straps on your wrists. “I want you.”

Voice soft as silk, alluring, and pleading. You shift your hips, rubbing your thighs together as if you’re actually itching to have him fill you again—never mind that he never did.

He takes note of this, his hand wandering down your side and onto your hip where his eyes stay glued as he watches you squirm.

“Please?” You beg and he likes that so much he give a guttural grunt as he looks back up at you and climbs up onto your bed.

You feel frail and breakable. His large body looming over yours sends your heart into overdrive. Will he hurt you?

He touches you, and you try not to flinch away. You make sure to shift your disgust into desire, letting him cup your mound despite the way it makes you want to throw up. That could also be the malnutrition.

“You want this baby?” He asks, wafting hot breath against the cool clammy skin of your throat.

“Yeah.” You lie, hoping that it sounds real. “Let me hold you.”

You strain against your straps and he sits back, removing his hand from between your legs.

You’re filled with relief as he undoes your left hand strap and because you don’t want him to be suspicious, you use that hand to grab his shoulder and yank him down against your chest. You wrap it around him, holding him to you as his lips find yours and you kiss him hard.

As hard as you can anyway.

The taste of his tongue is salted and sour. You nearly gag but instead you groan. You need to get him off of you, get the rest of the straps off, get out the door, and up onto the deck of the ship. Then you can look for a plane or another boat…something. Anything.

You’ll float home if you have to.

As his tongue delves more deeply into his mouth, the heat of his skin bringing shocking attention to the lack of it in you, you suddenly bite down.

Aaron gasps and tries to pull back, but you’ve got a solid hold on him. He pushes against your shoulders and you follow him up as best you can as your teeth dig in deeper.

Your teeth finally snap shut. Aaron screams in pain and you taste rust.

Aaron scrambles off of you and falls onto the floor, kicking and pushing away from your bed and you spit out the pink wiggling flesh. Your mouth is flooded with blood and it drips from your mouth as you quickly undo the straps holding you down.

When you’re finally on your feet, you wobble, but not because of the sway of the ship. You’re weaker than you realized.

“Shit.” You gasp and grab a small metal tray beside your bed.

Aaron doesn’t see the hit coming and you knock him out saving him from the pain of his half-tongue but also giving yourself time to get away.

Weakly you run out of the room giving the hallways you run through quick looks before you venture into them.

You’ve been expecting to encounter thugs but there’s no one. Only empty rooms and the rotting smell of fish.

You have to stop to rest when you find the stairs and catch your breath. Two seconds is all you spare because the fear of Aaron waking up and coming after you is overwhelming.

You scrape up your bare feet as you climb the stairs as quickly as you can. At the top you find a heavy steel doorway with one of those large circular handles to seal compartments in ships from flooding.

Weakly you manage to turn it and hot salty air fills your lungs as the door falls open. Gray overcast skies and black blue water surround the ship.

You push it, itching for freedom and as you tumble out your foot catches on the bottom threshold. You fall hard, feeling a break somewhere in your leg.

You cry out, hoping that all of Aaron’s thugs are not up here.

“Y/N!”

No. It’s impossible. Your eyes strain against the bright light of the day and try to see where that voice came from.

Halfway down the much smaller ship’s deck but still as big as an oil tanker, you see Bucky fling a black mass of body overboard.

He races towards you at the same time and you frantically push yourself up onto your feet.

Forgetting your brand-new break, you collapse when you try to put your weight on your right foot but Bucky’s already there and he catches you. His arms are hot and tight around you, the smell of him—bitter sweat mixed with his usual clean linen and sandalwood musk—is intoxicating. You can hardly believe he’s real.

“I found you.” He gasps, shocked as if he’d never expected to see you again. “I found you.”

You look for his face, wanting nothing more than to stare into his steel blue eyes. He pushes your hair back, almost like Aaron had but there’s a desperate love in his hands as he holds your face and you want him to kiss you and hold you and tell you that you’re safe.

He does one of those.

He scoops you up suddenly and impossibly fast he carries you across the ship’s deck, winding around containers and piping until he reaches the stern and you can see the large black jet.

“Steve!” Bucky calls, and you’re so confused but Steve is suddenly there too. His arms are around you, and as he falls to the ground onto his knees, Bucky moves with him and carefully places you in Steve’s arms.

Steve holds you close, against his chest, clinging to you as he sobs.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry.” He cries but you don’t want him to be sorry.

Your heart soars as he pulls your lips up to meet his and then he buries his head into the side of your neck as he continues to sob, his blonde head of hair damp from the spray of the sea.

Bucky, also kneeling beside you, leans in to rest his forehead against your temple.

“I found you.” He repeats.

You turn to look at him, searching his face for explanation but he kisses you instead. Softly massaging your lips before he trails loving kisses down along your cheeks.

Then he wraps his arms around you and Steve.

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[melusine0811]

Thoughts on “Turning of the Tide”

I read it and actually kind of enjoyed (parts) of it. However, there is stuff I definitely hated. It did read like fanfiction and I think it should be taken as such. This story is clearly VERY AU. The TV show and Big Finish are more canon for me, since both Russell T Davies and Steven Moffat have done Target novelisations of one of their episodes, and there are MARKED differences.

So, if you’re like me and you’ve just read this book, you’re probably trying to navigate how you feel about these characters that you love so much. Here are a few of my thoughts, and a support post of sorts!

1) I do not care that she’s named him. I don’t care if she named him Corin, John Smith, Doctor Funkenstein, or Patches McGillicuddy. I don’t see it as nearly as relevant. I don’t personally think he’d be called anything but the Doctor, and would only use a name on paper, but I’ve read really good fic where he’s given a name. Again, not the issue. I actually think it’s cool that he’s named after the Norwegian man who owned the cabin they rented.

2) I really like that they spent several days in a hut in Norway alone getting to know one another again. I like that he has some Donna thrown in there, and has taken her mannerisms.

3) I love their house in the English countryside.

4) I love that they are clearly completely in love with one another, and seem to have the same relationship many of us do with our SO’s. Fights, laughs, shagging (implied cause she’s pregnant), the works. However, as I state below, there are MANY problems they haven’t sorted through.

5) I love Clark the worm. He’s adorable and KNOWS who Tentoo is much better than anyone else does.

6) I love that they still share inside jokes

7) He is sad because he thinks that half of him WAS solid and true, but she tells him that no, both sides of him are. She sees the desperation in his eyes to be accepted for who he is, and she falls in love with him all over again in that moment. 

8) Rose teaches little kids. I love this kinda, but still think she should be kicking arse at Torchwood/Unit.

9) They squabble like a real couple and it’s adorable

10) There is so much tenderness between them. Rose insists on accompanying him to solve alien problem, saying “You do better with me...you always do.” He squeezes her hand, saying “I know.”

11) The Doctor is terrified about being a dad, which is completely normal. (My own husband was scared to death he’d fail as a father.) I talk about the big issue with this below, however.

Things I hate:

1) Rose names him and starts rattling off dog names. She says “It’s like naming a dog!” The Doctor is clearly upset by this. She refuses to call him Doctor, without even once consulting him about it. She has even convinced HIM he’s not the Doctor, when it is clearly established in the show and in Big Finish that he is. 

2)Tentoo has a hard time remembering the other 900 years of his life. Like, HOW? If Rose can remember all the stuff from traveling, why can’t he?? Yes he’s part human, but so what? Rose doesn’t want him thinking like the Doctor or getting “ideas above his situation,” clearly because she doesn’t want him to be the Doctor and also because she’s clearly insecure that he’ll split and get delusions of grandeur. She does how feel bad for him that he can’t remember, however it’s HER FUCKING FAULT because she took his identity away because she’s afraid he’ll remember his old life too much and leave 

3) Rose obviously won’t call him the Doctor for three reasons. The first is because she’s scared he’ll remember he’s a Time Lord and leave her, that she “won’t ever be enough.” The second is because she sees him as a completely separate person, which to me is good but mostly bad. She gives this incarnation agency but takes it away at the same time- something I can’t get past.

4) It’s stated that Rose only accepted “Corin” because he smelled like the Doctor. 

5) Rose thinks that SHE is the only person who traveled in the TARDIS, not Tentoo, or “Corin.” I hated this. Selfish and manipulative.

6) The underlying message in the entire story is that he is CLEARLY the Doctor, no matter how much he and Rose fight it or deny it. Aliens found him, right?

7) Rose got mad at him for trying to build another sonic. Like, really?? (again with the insecurity)

8) “Corin” is afraid the baby will come out alien, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to ignore the fact that Rose is pregnant and treat her as one of his patients. Um, no. See below.

9) “Corin” has no problem with someone brandishing a gun, and he even uses it. Rose says the Doctor didn’t use one, and he says he’s not him. Again, see below.

10) The only competent person in this entire story is Clark the robot worm. 

11) The overarching plot here is that he’s the doctor but nobody will fucking admit that he’s the Doctor. Not even him. (See below)

There you have it. I liked some parts but hated quite a lot of it. I do not take it as canon because much of it is completely out of character. You read it and you decide.

EDIT- 

I have had some time to stew about this. I mentioned that the overarching plot here is that “Corin” is the Doctor, but nobody will admit it. I think that this is at the very root of the problem with he and Rose’s relationship. I don’t think he trusts her with his identity, since she has stripped him of it. I think that THIS is why he is not looking forward to this baby- because he knows this baby is part Doctor, which is the part of himself that Rose obviously despises. He can’t bring himself to be excited about it. It’s said that he can’t even bring himself to decorate a nursery. WELL NO FUCKING WONDER. Rose hates everything about him that is DOCTOR so therefore he despises that part of himself. It’s like she’s surprised though when he does something that is so uncharacteristically un-Doctor like, such as when he brandishes a gun. He’s a loose cannon because of what she’s done to him. I found myself wanting him to just dump this “Rose,” and go travel the world with this universe’s version of Donna. When she wouldn’t even let him build a sonic screwdriver, I wanted him to say, “I’m the Doctor, fuck you.” The end. This “Rose” took the stars from him- things could have been very different in this story- they could have done so many things. But they’re NOT the Doctor and Rose. I am left with the Tenth Doctor’s dying words, “I could have been SO. MUCH. MORE......I don’t want to go.” 

I fell in love with Doctor Who through the eyes of Rose Tyler. This is not her. This is not who she is- who the girl who has been so selfless is. Who the girl who has fought tooth and nail to protect the Doctor’s identity is. This is not who the girl who became Bad Wolf is. I’m done. Big Finish all the way. 

If you agree, here are just SOME of the fanfics that I believe do both characters justice. There are still plenty I haven’t even read yet, so if you know of any other good ones (or your own) please drop a link.

Here are fanfic recs I think are MUCH better:

1) The “Trickling Down the Hourglass” series by @elialys . It’s spectacular, spot-on, and exactly how I imagine them. Plus the love scenes are AMAZING.

2) “The Wind by Night” by @tripwirealarm. Seriously, just read it. Fucking amazing.

3) “The Slow Path” series by @lastincurableromantic. It’s super long, and PERFECT. This was the first Tentoo x Rose series I fell in love with.

4) “Star Hopping” by @time-nebula. Tried and true favorite! I love how they are thrown into an adventure right off the bat.

5) “Enough” by @megabadbunny Hot as hell and so, so amazing.

6) “All of Me” by @hanluvr. Also hot as hell and the FEEEEEELS.

7) “The Application of Simple Science” by @gallifreyburning Another tried and true favorite that I have to read at least every few months.

8) “Just One Room” also by @time-nebula. HHOOOOTTTTTT.

9) “Laddie Lie Near Me” by @abadplanwellexecuted The Doctor and Rose clear the air and say some things that need to be said. Quite right, too! (no, seriously)

10) “Zen and the Art of Aesthetic Farming” by @abadplanwellexecuted What happens when the Doctor decides to be a farmer. Hilarious, tons of heart, and quintessentially THEM.

11) “Chimera” by @gallifreyburning. Another tried and true favorite that I’ve loved for years. What the Doctor does when Rose is threatened, and how Rose kicks ass and takes names. Quintessentially them, and beautifully done.

12) “First time Fumblings” by @hiddentreasures Gorgeous fic about their first time.

13) “Second Night of Forever” by @skyler10fic Another gorgeous fic about their first time. 

14) “The Distance to Here” by TheWayfaringStranger (on Whofic) One of the very first Tentoo x Rose fics I ever read and I still love it.

15) “Etched on Me” by @kscribbles. All of her Ten/Rose fics are amazing but this is my favorite.

16) The “Time, Eternals, and the Not Quite So Domestic Life” series by @kelkat9  This is a very long series that I haven’t even finished reading yet but I love it.

These are just SOME of my favorites. I am also writing my own series. This is my first multichapter fic, so please read and let me know what you think:

“The Dream of Atlas” by @melusine0811

PLEASE if you can think of any I can’t think of at the moment, please add below.

#tentoo x rose #tentooisthedoctor #tentoo is the doctor #anti turning of the tide #he is the doctor #turning of the tide #Doctor Who fanfic #doctor who

[scotianostra]

Happy 64th Birthday, Carol Ann Duffy, born in the Gorbals (Glasgow) on 23 December 1955. Carol is the first Scottish poet laureate and the first LGBT poet to hold the position, and first female laureate in it's 400 year history.

The family moved to Stafford when Carol was 6, where her father worked for English Electric and managed Stafford Rangers Football Club in his spare time. Duffy attended Roman Catholic primary and middle schools, and then Stafford Girls’ High.

Her early passion for reading and writing was encouraged by two of her English teachers, and developed by the poet-artist Adrian Henri (one of a trio of Liverpool poets whose work was famously anthologised as ‘The Mersey Sound’ in 1967), with whom she lived from the age of 16 until 1982. She went to the University of Liverpool, and obtained a degree in Philosophy in 1977.

Having already published three collections of poetry became more widely known when she won the National Poetry Competition in 1983, and an Eric Gregory Award the following year.As she commented for the Poetry Society website about twenty-five years later: ‘In those days, one was still called a “poetess” – so it meant a lot, as a young woman poet, to begin to try to change that.

Multi award winnig Duffy has since published many more collections of poems, sometimes courting a wee bit bad publicity, when in 2008 her poem ‘Education for Leisure’ was removed from the English GCSE poetry anthology after complaints that it endorsed a culture of violence. 

Duffy became a lecturer in poetry at Manchester Metropolitan University in 1996, by which time she was living with the writer Jackie Kay, and had a daughter, Ella. Her very productive writing life included plays, editing anthologies and poetry for children.

Duffy received the T.S. Eliot Prize for Rapture (Picador, 2005), 52 poems charting a love affair, published after the break-up of her relationship with Kay, why are break ups always the catalyst for such good writing!? 

Along with other poets of her generation, her work has been set for examinations in schools throughout Britain, and a group of these poets have regularly read their poems to huge audiences of GCSE students as part of the ‘Poetry Live’ sessions that are now a feature of the school year in England and Wales. In 2009 as part of the Edinburgh Festival she gave the first performances of The Princess’s Blankets, with musician John Sampson and Ella Duffy,  a blend of poetry, music and fairytale involving ‘hilarious Queens, ancient rock’n’rollers, Mozart, Peggy Guggenheim and a sad Princess who is always cold’.

There was speculation that she would become Poet Laureate on the death of Ted Hughes in 1999, but the post went to Andrew Motion. She declared that the post was worthwhile as it was ‘good to have someone who is prepared to say that poetry is part of our national life’, and in an interview in The Independent predicted that poetry would ‘become more important and take a larger part in our lives in the next century’. Appointed Poet Laureate in 2009, Duffy has made sure that poetry does make its mark in national discussions and debate, publishing her poems in newspapers (tabloid and broadsheet) and on the radio.

Being laureate hasn't stopped her being vociferous in her work and she often writes on political issues of the day; other subjects include the deaths of Henry Allingham and Harry Patch, the last two British soldiers to fight in World War I. 

I like Carol Anne Duffy because she writes some short poems that don't get to complicated, go search her out on poem hunter you'll find 30 of her verses including this.....

If I was Dead

If I was dead, and my bones adrift like dropped oars in the deep, turning earth;

or drowned, and my skull a listening shell on the dark ocean bed;

if I was dead, and my heart soft mulch for a red, red rose;

or burned, and my body a fistful of grit, thrown in the face of the wind;

if I was dead, and my eyes, blind at the roots of flowers, wept into nothing,

I swear your love would raise me out of my grave, in my flesh and blood,

like Lazarus; hungry for this, and this, and this, your living kiss.

#scotland #scottish #poet #anglo-scottish #laureate

[kidchameleon92]

“life story” 1

i’m not going to edit this at all going along. typos, bad grammar, mistakes. doesn’t matter. this is spontaneous thought.

disclaimer: i changed the word to “spontaneous” from “spurious” which means something completely different, so the first paragraph is already a lie.

anyway, it’s been a really weird and sort of bad couple months for me. mostly in my state of mind. i feel very stuck and very immobile when it comes to my art and career. and that is having a very negative effect on my brain. even though i’m putting out my favorite songs i’ve ever written. i’ve been meaning to write for awhile. i used to post when i lived in los angeles several years ago, just journaling my day to day life. but i haven’t for awhile. i guess i also used to write in a notebook while on different tours. but i think i’ve since thrown that away or hidden it somewhere.

point is: i just want to write to get things off my mind. and hopefully, maybe, it’ll help you (if you care to) get to know me a little more and on a more personal level. even if we haven’t met. and maybe it’ll make what i make (if you care about it) mean more to you. either way, mostly, i just want to rant a bit. so, this is my life’s story. i guess.

chapter 1: kid

i was born in a suburb of the twin cities in minnesota. my parents both grew up in minnesota and lived there their whole lives (until my mom recently moved to tennessee). my mom was a mortician, and my dad was an accountant. also an alcoholic. he cheated on her and left her and i when i was one year old. i remember growing up going to stay with him on weekends, except it was with him and his girlfriend at the time. except he was drunk a lot. and would drive drunk with me (a baby) in the car. so, that’s cool. anyway, my mom was really depressed, and that was not a good time (or so i’ve heard, because i was a baby, so idk).

i stayed with my grandparents a lot, because my mom worked full time. my maternal grandparents lived on a ton of land. my grandpa and i would ride motorcycles and four wheelers and sleep in a treehouse and all that. my other grandparents lived in the same town but in a small house. i used to go up to their cabin during the summer and go fishing and swimming and boating and all that. different g-parent vibes, but loved both a lot.

anyway, when i was three, my mom married my step-dad. he is from india and has had a lot of unique and challenging experiences, so that certainly brought a lot of particular lessons and outlooks into my life. i went there once when i was about 14. it was wild. but so, yeah. that kinda solidified my family unit. my dad got remarried later on as well. but the older i got, i saw him less and less.

so ... i loved video games. i played them all the time. a big part of my childhood. mostly nintendo. explains a lot. as a kid in school (4 years public, 3 years private, 1 year home, 3 years private, 1 year PSEO [look it up]), i was never popular whatsoever. i always wanted to gain some sort of acclaim or attention from my classmates, but was pretty much always looked down on for one reason or another. i remember in elementary school, i was the kid who was literally terrified of storms. probably because i had been in a tornado when i was six. but the moment it would thunder, all the kids would look at me to see if i was gonna cry. usually, i did. and the school nurse would take me outside and we’d walk around as a sort of therapy. i guess it helped sorta. i still get nervous in storms. but i don’t cry.

i also remember a time specifically that i got made fun of for wearing a denver broncos t-shirt. this kid just railed on me because it wasn’t a minnesota vikings shirt. so, one: i don’t even give a fuck about sports. but two: it stuck with me for some reason that someone would be a massive jerk over a t-shirt of a sports team. i guess that’s just because we as humans are messed up things.

anyway, in middle school, i started becoming semi-interested in music. i listened to the radio every night, listening to the top 10 countdown of big songs from that week. kanye, weezer, the click five, black eyes peas, green day. those were some anyway. besides that, i was just listening to like kelly clarkson and relient k or something. my mom had a steven curtis chapman cd in her van i thought went hard. but i started getting into popular music around then. i also started to write my own music. i used to take piano lessons from when i was like six or seven until i was 14 or so. but after i started writing my own songs, i hated practicing assigned pieces. i didn’t care. i wanted to play my own. so, the teacher said if i quit, i couldn’t be her student again. so i did. that’s fine. she said i was her most talented student. but i didn’t work that hard. so, that goes to show that natural talent and hard work have different roles, i suppose. 

chapter 2: girls and high school and such

in high school, i started LiKiNg gIrLs and stuff. i also was still not very popular. i also had started a band (with jack). i wasn’t very good, but i was just as obsessed with it as i am now. anyway, i liked this one girl from my church, and we talked all the time. but because we grew up in a pretty fundamental church culture, we weren’t allowed to date. which honestly, i fine, because looking back, no one knows what they are doing at 16 really. i definitely didn’t. i still don’t know what i’m doing. anyway ...

so, this girl and i half-dated for a couple years, and i was really clingy and annoying. but that’s just how i be. and i thought i was gonna marry her and stuff, because in a fundamental church context, you over spiritualize everything.

[[disclaimer: i am a christian, and i still go to church, but my theology and ideology on a lot of things has just evolved and changed a lot since i was young and since leaving the ultra-americanized/ultra-fundamental “christian” realm. main point being: we all are effed up bro and need saving. i’m an idiot always!]]

but now we’re back. girl “dumped” me and started dating another guy named “patrick” right after, even though she technically wasn’t allowed to date until she was 18. but apparently, she just wasn’t allowed to date me. so, that was cool. anyway, i was angsty, but then i got over it. because i was 17, so life big time goes on.

then i met another girl from canada while i was finishing school and going hard at my band stuff. we hit it off, and i started visiting her up there. and she visited me and all that. it was cool. and then all of a sudden, she really started hating me. and to be fair, i was weird and clingy and sort of a lot to deal with. but we kept dating. all the while, i was sort of leaving behind music to try to get into nursing school. yep, nursing school. but i got rejected, which is great. and so, i decided to go to audio engineering school in canada. and she was gonna go to college in the same city. this is great! so i thought. she dumped me (well, i sort of broke up with myself for her) about a month after we were living in the same city. wack. but it made me buckle down and work my ass off in school. i was top of my class one semester. yeah, i’m not that dumb. sometimes.

towards the spring of the next year, i happened to meet a girl who was at my church with one of my friends. she seemed chill. just talked a little. nothing crazy. happened to hit her up on twitter just to say hi. no intention. we talked a bit. nothing after that. then all of a sudden, a couple months later, i was tweeting about reading harry potter for the first time (note: fundamental upbringing). she happened to tweet me back about it. and long story short, we went out on a date. a sort-of-date. and what was supposed to be a lunch turned into an all day and half the night date. anyway, we got married a year later. after a lot of immigration paperwork and expenses. that’s a whole other post. that sucked. it’s a lot. and it’s why i feel bad for people who have nothing who are trying to come here to flee danger in their own countries. again, another post.

chapter 3: married, and other hard things

so, i forgot to say that before we got married, i lived in los angeles for a year after school. i was doing more sound for film work. on set stuff, post-production. got to do work with like ... james franco, matt damon, emma roberts, william shatner. some cool stuff. but jack’s old band came through on tour, and i saw two shows. and i was like ... bruh. i gotta do music, what am i doing? so, i literally moved back to minnesota within like two weeks, worked as a nursing assistant for a little bit and got married. then moved to nashville like two weeks later. i guess i could’ve stayed in los angeles. but nashville felt like the move at the time. everything happens with a purpose.

so, we moved here, and she couldn’t work for three months because of immigration stuff. so, i was like, well, guess i need a job. so, i got a job managing a home for a couple people with intellectual disabilities. it was super hard. mostly because the company was really, really bad. so, i got another job working as a staffing coordinator in an office for a home health care agency. that was a little better. still tough. but less overwhelming. a couple months after i got that job, i got an offer to go on a country tour playing bass for someone. and i was like ... well, this is why i moved here. so, i quit and went on tour. and shawna actually took my old job. interesting.

i was gone for three weeks, and it sucked and the pay was bad, but at least i was doing what i wanted. but then i got an offer from my friend to do some tech work on a much bigger country gig. i hadn’t done it before, but it was better pay and a better position. and on a bus and nice things and all that. so, i went for it. i pissed the other girl i was playing for off. but that’s show biz, baby. but like, i found a replacement for myself and paid to fly him out to her shows and stuff. so, really she won.

anyway, i toured with this other artist for four years. and i learned a lot. it was very, very challenging, both mentally and physically. and some people are just hard to work with. but i still gained so much valuable experience and insight into touring from that. i also started playing guitar for another artist who was small at the time, but has now had a couple number one hits. but his label fired me because i didn’t look country enough. we’re still homies though, so it’s literally fine. because i do indeed not look country enough.

at the same time, i was doing my own solo music and also producing and writing with and for other people. i’ve had the opportunity to write and produce for everything from independent artists to major label to billboard charting albums to whatever. songs on major television networks. i’m still very un-rich though, if that tells you anything. 

but really, i just wanted to do my own music. and i literally couldn’t get it to go anywhere. i had no idea what the “secret” was. what was i missing? money? connection? power? actually probably all of that, to be honest. this industry is wacko. i was pretty close to giving up.

chapter 4: milkk

i read a satirical article on vice.com about “how to start a trendy band” or something. i thought it was funny. so, i called jack. he had just been kicked out of his old band for no reason. i was like, “bruh, let’s do this article.” and he was like, ok. so, we sort of did. and i’m not gonna go into all the early details, because i’ve done a million press interviews about how our band started. and i don’t wanna say it again. google it.

this was the first time that i actually saw people care about my music. it was a high. it was like a dream. and we hadn’t even had any big song or anything. just the fact that people were listening and engaging was mind blowing to me. but just like with anything, the more things went, the less i found satisfying. the more “likes” or “follows” on socials didn’t feel like enough anymore. the streams didn’t seem good enough. the chart positions on the debut album didn’t seem that great. the hype wore off a little after the debut album hype. and that made me insane. probably because we as humans are not built to be satisfied by the things in our life. “Vanity of vanities!” it’s in ecclesiastes. like the bible one.

chapter 5: now

anyway, that’s bad. i had (and have) let my mind convince me that i have to achieve something in order to be happy or fulfilled, when i know that that stuff will never fulfill me. i could play the biggest stadium and have the biggest song in history, but after a burst of dopamine and excitement, it would be empty. and i know that nothing here will do that. at least, that’s what i believe. my hope is outside of myself.

but that’s hard to internalize when you are so passionate about something, and have been for so long, and all you want to do is create things for other people that they can appreciate and be influenced by. but it’s probably also selfish. like i openly admit i like the idea of fame and presence. and it probably ties all the way back to wanting acknowledgement and attention as a kid, from being unpopular and ridiculed and, honestly, left by my dad. maybe i just therapied myself.

but regardless, i know i can’t put my identity in all this stuff. it’s hard, and it’s harder when you create stuff. because it’s so deeply tied to you. but it’s still not “who i am.” i know who i am and what i believe, but i’m still a mess, so i can’t enact that in my brain perfectly. in fact, far from it.

anyway. it’s late, and i’m going to post this and attempt to not worry about how it does on social media. stupid!!! i just want this out in the world for you to read. hopefully it’s helpful for you in some way. but mostly, it was just cool to write this out, for my own sake.

i’ve been blessed in some amazing ways. my family. oh, yeah i forgot that i have two kids. i love them a lot. i don’t talk about them on social media much. but they are very special to me. and we’ve always been taken care of, even when times were tight or i didn’t know when the next paycheck was coming in or i thought my wife was about to die or whatever. the Lord provided for us every time. and i am grateful to have what career i have. it may be “small” and nothing to look at by the big industry standards, but i believe in what i make so much, and i’m just grateful that anyone cares about it at all. and i will continue to do so until the day i die. because i have to. 

it’s what i was born to do, for better or worse. and no one can tell me otherwise.

[mayquita]

Call Me (25/?) - Another One Bites the Dust

Hi everyone. Happy Friday! I'd like to apologize for the delay once again. I've been on vacation with a lot of children around and I've found it quite difficult to concentrate (among other inconveniences) but I finally managed to finish the chapter! Also, taking into account my usual habit, the chapter ended being super long, so I decided to split it into two parts. (I might like the way the first part ends, so I found it interesting to cut it just like that. You'll find out the reason when you read it)The good news is that the second part is already finished so I'll post it in a few days.

I'd like to express my gratitude to three savior angels, @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld, thanks for your continued support and your advice. @chrissascorner, thanks for helping me edit the whole thing. You three are the best. Thank you also to everyone else for your patience and for your support. I hope the wait was worth it.

Summary: Emma loses her phone after a chase, but she finds a phone in a cafe just when she needs it most. Killian forgets his phone in a cafe when he is about to take a flight to Ireland. Killian makes a call to his own number hoping someone answers on the other end of the line. What will happen when Emma is the one answering the call?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8Chapter 9 Chapter 10Chapter 11 Chapter 12Chapter 13 Chapter14Chapter 15 Chapter 16Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24

FF.net Ao3

//

Chapter 25 - Another One Bites the Dust

Friday, September 15, 2017

Emma should have suspected that the capture wasn't going to be that easy. She didn't even have time to address the skipper. The moment his eyes fell on her, the guy ran away like a bat out of hell. Shit!

So it was going to be one of those days... Emma resigned herself and did the only thing she could do, run after him. Her body at least seemed to accompany her — or maybe it was the desire to conclude this case. She kept the pace, at least for the first few minutes, but the asshole was in very good shape, and even though she was forcing her body up to its limit, the distance between them increased.

Her legs were starting to feel heavy, she was running out of breath and her lungs were burning from the exertion. Her frustration and anger were what kept fueling her to continue the persecution. Luckily the guy had gone into a nearby park, because she wouldn't be able to deal with passersby or worse, with traffic.

She ran and ran in a frantic race, crossing the park at full speed, her heart threatening to get out of her rib cage while frustration grew in her as she watched the guy get farther and farther away.

Her long-awaited opportunity came just as she was about to give up. The guy found a stairway in his path and had to slow down as he descended. Emma did not think twice and acted impulsively, accelerating and shortening the distance until he finally came within reach. Without taking any time to assimilate the possible consequences of her act, she literally jumped on him, grabbing him by the jacket at the last moment.

In retrospect, she should have kept her mind cold or not act so recklessly, without assessing the risks of her actions. At that time, though, her urge to get home was what prompted her to act that way. And she would have achieved her goal if it were not for something as ordinary as gravity, or as the saying goes, what goes up must come down. She and her prey were not going to be an exception, of course.

The impact on the ground was brutal. Both her head and her left shoulder collided with the hard surface, getting to knock the air out of her lungs and causing her vision to blur and her mind to become foggy.

The numbness caused by the blow prevented her limbs from responding but at least she was able to maintain her grip on the guy. She thanked all the deities she did not believe in since the man was not fighting to get free, probably also affected by the impact.

She needed air. Both the race and the impact had caused her lungs to empty and now she was having difficulty reintroducing oxygen into her system. Shit! She also needed to handcuff the guy before it was too late. The last thing she wanted was for him to escape. She could not fail, not after taking so many risks. But she was so exhausted and her mind so numb that she was unable to think correctly or even move.

"You bitch, get away from me!" The muffled voice of the man reached her ears, as she felt him begin to stir under her grip. A wave of panic seized her as she tried to give orders to her brain to act. In vain. Just as the guy started to squeeze, loosening her hold, a shadow appeared at their side. Leroy. Thank God.

She would never be as grateful as at that moment for Graham's idea to install a tracking system on their devices while they were staking out. That was the reason why Leroy had managed to catch up with them just in time. He clearly was not as fit as she was, because the poor man appeared a little agitated, cheeks flushed and breathing ragged. He was hunched over, resting his hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath after the unexpected sprint. 

"Holy shit sister, that was quite a jump." He addressed her between gasps. "So, another one bites the dust, eh?"

It was odd in Leroy to show his emotions, but, despite her condition, Emma could detect a hint of pride in his voice. The blow must have been stronger than she thought, because that wasn't possible, was it?

The moment the perp caught sight of Leroy he made an attempt to get up, so Emma had no choice but to use the little energy she had left in tightening the grip, ignoring the intense pain she had begun to feel in her left arm.

Leroy recovered quickly from the race, as he hastened to pull out the handcuffs, taking her place and grabbing the guy. Only then did she slip away and sit up quickly, anxious to get away from the asshole. Big mistake.

Her head began to spin as she felt her ears pulsing and her vision blurred. Shit! Could it be that she had gotten a concussion? No, it couldn't be. It was just the blow, wasn't it?

"Easy there, sister, need help?" She ignored Leroy's worried voice and instead focused on trying to fill her lungs with air while closing her eyes to keep everything from spinning around. It was then that she noticed a warm liquid sliding down the left side of her face. Thinking it might be a drop of sweat, she raised her hand to wipe it away, feeling a shock wave of pain through her arm towards her shoulder. She gasped in pain while holding her left arm with the other hand. Shit, shit, shit!

"You're bleeding, Emma. I'm calling Graham." Emma barely registered Leroy's words, too focused on keeping her breathing stable and not moving her arm. What she did hear was the guy's grumble.

"She is not the only one, look at my face." The guy barked. "You crazy woman, you've managed to break my nose, bitch!" Emma glanced sideways in his direction to find the guy handcuffed to a nearby bench, a torrent of blood slipping through his nose. In other circumstances, she would have thrown a proper retort, or she would have made a significant gesture with one of her fingers. On this occasion, though, she simply ignored him as she accepted the tissue Leroy was handing her.

"What the hell happened here?"

Graham's unexpected voice caused her to wince since she didn't expect him to show up so soon. For some reason, a strange sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. Far from being proud of the success of the mission, she felt weak and somehow a bit frustrated. Yes, she had gotten the guy, but if it hadn't been for Leroy, she wouldn't have been able to keep him from running away. She hated feeling this vulnerable and helpless. Certainly, her headache and shoulder pain didn't help.

"I... I just fell." She mumbled, her eyes cast down to the floor. She wasn't in the mood to handle Graham's worried look.

"You just fell?" Even without looking at him, Emma could imagine his stance, his hands on his hips as he watched her through his narrow eyes. Gods! She hated these situations.

"She flew, literally, boss. It was quite a catch."

Thanks for your contribution. She had to suppress both a snort and the desire to glare at Leroy. Not that it would have had much effect. The only thing she would have gotten would have been a grimace, with probably several wounds adorning her bloody — literal —face.

There was an awkward pause while Emma tried to avoid eye contact with her boss. The silence was only broken by the complaints of the asshole who had put her in that situation.

"Emma, are you okay?" Graham tried again.

"Yeah, yeah. It was just a knock, I'll be fine." Emma said in an unconvincing tone as she felt Graham approaching her. Her heart began to beat strongly as she bit her lower lip. She shuddered when she realized too late that, of course, she had also split her lip. Great. Just Great.

"No, you're not fine. Emma, look at me." Graham demanded as he gently grabbed her left arm causing intense pain to run up to her shoulder, an involuntary gasp escaping her mouth. He loosened his grip immediately. "Did you hurt your arm?"

There was so much concern in his voice that she could not help but look up at him. Another mistake. Both his intense scrutiny and serious expression caused her stomach to tighten in knots as the headache increased. She was not used to these kinds of displays towards her. Far from making her feel protected they made her feel vulnerable, weak. She was strong, she did not need anyone to take care of her.

"I'm fine." The words came out in a tone perhaps too sharp, but she couldn't care less at that moment. She just wanted to get home to lie down curled up in a ball and sleep until the next day. Everything would be better then. It should be.

"Emma, we should go to the hospital, I can take you." Graham insisted, approaching her tentatively again.

"No." No way was she going to the emergency room. Not when she had lived such unpleasant experiences in the past there. She wanted to go home. Unfortunately, she could not just run away since she would not be able to drive in her condition. Shit. Shit. "Could you... could you take me home?"

"Emma ..."

"Okay, I'll take a cab." She assured in a defiant tone as she held his gaze. There was something characteristic in Graham's eyes, honesty. She could clearly see the conflict he was suffering just by looking at his gaze. She was also able to see the moment when he gave up, the glow in his eyes faded slightly.

He let out a heavy sigh as he ran his hand over his face. "Fine, I'll take you home." Next, he addressed Leroy in his characteristic professional tone. "Take care of our perp. Let me know when you get rid of him."

As Graham informed her, he had tracked them by driving rather than following them on the run. She didn't mention it, but she couldn't be more grateful, since she was feeling increasingly weak and her head kept spinning, preventing her from being fully aware of what was happening around her. The sooner they got to the vehicle and she dropped into the seat, the better.

She counted as a small victory the fact that she was able to fasten the seat belt without help. The moment the car began to move, she closed her eyes and snuggled into the seat, turning her face to the side window. That didn't stop her from feeling Graham's penetrating gaze on her from time to time. At least he had the deference to keeping silent. 

That oppressive silence also had its disadvantages as it stopped possible distractions, giving free rein to her brain, despite the numbness, to recreate old experiences that she would prefer to forget. She was aware that sooner or later she would have to go to the hospital if she wanted her shoulder to be fixed. Even so, the mere thought of going there caused a wave of nausea to crawl up her throat. In the end, her weakness was stronger than her, the memory of her last visit to the emergency room three years ago too powerful to be repressed.

 //

Everything hurt.

Emma woke with a start, a strangled sound in her throat and eyes wide open. A sense of uneasiness took hold of her, as she felt unable to discern where she was, while the brightness that surrounded her caused her eyes to squeeze shut.

She instinctively turned her head to avoid the source of light, keeping her eyes closed as she forced the rest of her senses to work for answers. Gradually, she began to regain awareness, flashes of what had put her in this situation coming to her mind sporadically.

Her new state of consciousness also brought her something unpleasant. Pain. She felt her whole body sore. It was as if someone was drilling her skull from inside and, in turn, as if she had a band pressing on both sides of her head. She also felt like a dull ache in her left arm, as if it had been numb and gradually began to wake up, like a foretaste of what would be a much more intense pain.

She was in a hospital. She did not even have to open her eyes to know it. The unmistakable smell of something similar to disinfectant penetrated her nostrils, while the rough touch of the sheets that covered her scraped her skin. She also felt an intravenous line on her right wrist while her left arm remained immobilized.

She had fallen. Her brain had worked through the haze that had settled there allowing her access to her memories. She had been running, chasing after a guy who had skipped bail when suddenly something —no, someone — had gotten in her way near the Orpheum Theater. She had had to dodge the person to avoid hitting her with the subsequent consequence that she had not only lost the perp but that she had stumbled and fallen, hitting her arm in her descent on some sort of bollard.

A wave of panic washed over her when she realized something else. She had never lost consciousness after the fall. Yes, she had also hit her head, but she had been fully aware of everything, of the intense pain in her arm that had led her to have to grab a cab. Even she remembered having arrived at the hospital on her own. Why then did she feel as if she had just woken up? Why did she feel her throat dry and a sense of continuous nausea?

A new flash appeared in her mind, helping her to clear up her confusion. Her arm had broken so badly that she had needed surgery to fix the bones. A sound, half a groan half a sigh came out of her mouth when she realized that she would have to stay there for a while longer when all she wanted was to go home and snuggle in her bed. 

Just then the door to the room opened giving way to who seemed to be a doctor or nurse. After the opportune introductions, the doctor confirmed that fortunately, everything had gone well and that she would be released soon, but she would have to spend at least that night in the hospital under supervision.

"So Miss Swan, we have not seen any names listed as an emergency contact. Would you like to inform someone?” Although the doctor addressed her in a polite tone, with a gentle smile on her face, she did not miss the glimpse of pity masked in her kind words.

No, she didn't have anyone. She didn't need anyone. It wasn't a big deal, she would spend the damn night there and return to her apartment the next day to continue her life as always. Why then did she feel more alone than ever? Why did she feel a lump forming in her throat and her chest constricted? She should be used to it. She had always been alone, why should it be any different now?

Her inner voice was the one answering for her. It was not the fact of spending the night alone but the realization that there was no one in this world who cared about what could happen to her. She did not even have a boss since she worked on her own. She could have hit her head in the fall and died. And her death would not have had consequences. Nobody would feel her absence, nobody would miss her. 

She was all alone.

At least she didn't have a hospital roommate. She wouldn't have to witness potential visitors entering the room that would never be intended for her. It was a poor comfort, but she needed to hold onto something to calm the growing uneasiness that was bubbling inside her.

"Miss Swan, are you alright?"

The doctor's worried voice brought her back to reality. She realized that she hadn't answered her initial question. As painful as it was, she owed her an answer so, before replying, Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly in an attempt to pull herself together.

"I'm fine, just tired." Emma immediately hated how her voice sounded, broken and defeated. She swallowed, pressing her lips together and blinking a couple of times to keep her emotions at bay. "And there's no need to inform anyone, thank you."

Her gaze drifted to the window in an attempt to avoid the doctor's more than likely expression of pity. "Are you sure? Keep in mind that when you're discharged, you may need help for a while, since your arm will still be healing."

"I'll be fine." She mused without bothering to look at her as she silently implored the doctor to leave her alone. She owed no explanation to anyone. She did not need anyone.

The doctor seemed to catch the hint, since after a few more words of courtesy she finally left the room, leaving Emma alone with her ghosts. After letting out a heavy sigh, she clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes closed in an attempt to invoke the sleep, ignoring the spiral of feelings dancing inside her. 

She would be fine, as always.

Although Emma would never admit it, her brief hospital stay had an effect on her beyond an injured arm, a few hours of rehabilitation and a deeper hole in her heart. Since she was not going to be able to work for a while, she decided to take some additional web design classes while considering a change in her profession prospects.

That change never occurred, but at least she was determined to make some adjustments in her life, no matter how subtle they were. She began to feel that usual pull in her guts, indicating that the time to run had arrived. There was nothing in Phoenix that could tie her to the city anymore.

Several months after her accident, she applied for a job offer in Boston at a small bail bond business. 

When she got the job, she packed the few belongings she had and headed for her new destination without looking back. She told herself that she was tired of working on her own, that maybe it was time to have someone else's support, even in the form of a boss. The reality was that although she still felt the thick walls around her heart, a tiny crack, barely a scratch on the surface, had begun to form. Only time would tell if that almost imperceptible fissure became bigger or if on the contrary, she would have to add even more bricks to her protective shield, when the betrayal or abandonment would visit her again irrevocably.

 //

"Emma? Still with me?"

Graham's unexpected words caused her to jump up in her seat, as the vestiges of her memories faded slowly bringing her back to reality. Even in her semi-reverie state, Emma was able to detect a hint of concern in his voice, as if he wanted to make sure she was still conscious.

"Just resting." She mumbled, returning to her initial position, with her head turned toward the side window and her eyes closed. The journey to her past had brought with it a sense of deja-vu from which she hadn't been able to detach herself, increasing her desire to get home and shut herself away from the world for a while. The trip was taking too long, though, and she felt increasingly uncomfortable under Graham's scrutiny.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she noticed how the car slowed down. Emma had every intention of running away the moment the car stopped completely, but Graham was faster, addressing her before she even reached the door handle.

"Emma, wait."

Emma had no choice but to suppress her desire to escape. Instead, she turned her head reluctantly to look at Graham while holding back a sigh of resignation. His serious expression and his frown of concern did nothing to alleviate her sense of uneasiness.

"You're a tough woman, I get it. But you don't have to go through this alone. Your shoulder is probably dislocated and you have a nasty bruise on your head. You should be checked." He insisted on a firm voice.

Her body decided to betray her before she even had time to reply, sending a new wave of pain to her shoulder. Emma pressed her lips together to stifle the whimper, but Graham's intent gaze didn't seem to miss her suffering.

"Emma, you are clearly in pain, stop being so stubborn, and let me take you to the hospital." There was a hint of pleading in his voice, but it was also evident that he was losing patience. She did not blame him, but the fog in her brain prevented her from correctly processing the situation, her only thought was to get home, get into bed and forget about everything for a while.

"Nothing that can’t be relieved by a painkiller, I'm fine Graham." She snapped in a tone perhaps too harsh, but she was also losing her patience. To emphasize her words, she held his gaze defiantly until finally, Graham seemed to give up, letting out a deep sigh as he ran a hand over his face.

"Fine, you win." She suppressed the desire to raise her fist in triumph and instead went to open the door, but Graham's words stopped her again. "At least promise me you're going to call Killian."

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes widened slightly when she heard his name. A wave of something like self-reproach washed over her when she realized that she hadn't thought of her boyfriend all this time, which was somewhat ironic since she had gotten into this situation precisely because of her desire to reunite with him. Or maybe her subconscious had deliberately pushed him out of her mind, because the mere thought of Killian finding out what had happened and realizing about her condition caused her stomach to tighten into knots, a new wave of nausea creeping up to her throat.

"Emma..." Graham warned her again.

He is going to have a heart attack. If Graham's reaction had been a bit excessive, she didn't even want to imagine how Killian would react.

"Call Killian or I'll call him, I mean it."

At this point, she was going to accept any of his requests if it meant that she could finally get out of the damn car. She was beginning to feel suffocated in there.

"Fine, I'll call him. May I go now?"

The wrinkle of concern was still deep in between his eyebrows, but at least his lips drew the ghost of a smile. "Tell me if you need me to pick up your car, okay? And take care, Emma, please."

Emma simply nodded in a barely perceptible movement and finally — finally — got out of the vehicle. As she walked towards the entrance to her building a weird thought crossed her mind. At least her lower limbs had not been affected. She noticed a certain weakness in her knees, but at least she wasn't limping. The picture she would have offered would have been quite pathetic in that case, dragging one leg, with her face half-covered in blood and holding the wounded arm with the other hand. She should even feel lucky. Pretty fantastic.

She wasn’t going to call Killian. Nope.

Even in her more than likely state of concussion, she was aware of her mixed feelings colliding inside her. 

A sense of mild panic settled in the pit of her stomach at the uncertainty of how Killian would react when he saw her.

Her little inner voice seemed to whisper that he would worry, and that he was going to take care of her. But that voice was silenced by her overwhelming emotions. It wasn't so easy to get rid of that sense of vulnerability, which spread throughout her body, as a reminder of what it would be to rely on someone, to blindly trust someone and risk that person decided at some point that it had been enough, acting like everyone else before and leaving her alone with her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

That feeling clashed with the fear of experiencing the same sensation of loneliness as when she had visited the hospital for the last time.

Given her growing weakness, she did not seem able to fight against those thoughts or position herself in favor of any of them. The fog inside her head was getting thicker and she could not move her arm without generating a wave of pain. She needed to rest, close her eyes and allow her brain to stop working for a few hours. But first, she needed painkillers.

She was on her way to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit when her phone started buzzing, causing a jolt in her. She cursed while maneuvering with her good hand to pull the device out of the compartment from under her shirt. The call ended before she could reach the phone and she almost thanked it because —how could it be otherwise?— it was Killian calling her.

Emma noted with some surprise that there were several unread messages and a few missed calls. She had been so focused on her discomfort and the mixed feelings haunting her that she hadn't even noticed the phone until now that she was surrounded by silence.

She didn't have time to read the messages received when the phone began to buzz again. Definitely, the blow in the head had seriously affected her brain as she found herself unable to give her hand the right orders, her thumb acting on its own and sliding down the screen to answer the call. Before she could say a word in greeting, Killian's agitated voice reached her ears.

"Emma? Thank God! I was starting to freak out since you didn't answer any of my messages." Her eyes filled with tears just listening to his voice. Gods! She had missed him. One part of her wanted only to feel his presence by her side, his intoxicating scent, his protective arms around her. The other part, however, was the one that seemed to be taking the initiative.

"I was in a chase. You know."

"I know, I know. But since you're answering, I guess it's over now, right?" After a brief pause, Killian continued talking without giving her time to reply. "Are you on your way to my apartment or do you prefer me to go to yours?" Her heart constricted in her chest upon hearing how happy and relieved he sounded. Before answering, she bit her lower lip hard, not caring that it started bleeding again. 

"About that—" Her voice trailed off as she cleared her throat trying to sound a little more steady. "—I'm quite tired after the chase, so I prefer to stay at home and rest."

She must have sound convincing enough because Killian replied by maintaining his jovial tone. "No problem. Let me grab something to eat and I'll be there in half an hour."

Let him, let him. Her inner voice begged. For a moment she was tempted to do so, her body craving his touch after several days of being separated. But then she remembered the state she was in and a wave of panic in the form of nausea crawled up to her throat. In the end, her irrational fear stood out, causing her old habits to resurface.

"I meant alone." This time Killian did seem to detect her harsh tone. For a moment the line was silent, while Emma held her breath and bite her lip again waiting for his reaction.

"What's going on, Swan?" He asked finally, any trace of joy in his voice suddenly vanished, giving way to a tone of concern that did nothing to mitigate her inner turmoil. She had no choice but to do what she did best, get defensive.

"Nothing. I'm so damn tired that I just want to go to sleep."

"I could help you relax." He tried again with that suggestive voice of his, causing her skin to tingle at the mere idea of how he could help her in that regard.

Before she could respond, though, a new wave of pain ran up to her shoulder. She had to press her lips together to prevent a gasp from escaping from her mouth and reaching Killian's ears. Instead, she took two deep breaths in an attempt to pull herself together.

"I'm serious, Killian. I'm not in the mood today." She hoped her slightly trembling voice wouldn't give her away.

Again an oppressive silence hovered over them, only cut by a heavy sigh on the other side of the line. "What's wrong, Swan? I'm quite perceptive and I know something isn't right. So tell me."

Far from making her confess, his demanding tone caused her impulse to hide behind her protective shield to become more intense. She was not used to this and didn't know what the right way to act was, but what she did know was that she owed no explanation to anyone.

"I'm fine. I just wanna go to sleep." She snapped. This whole situation was getting on her nerves. Her physical condition did not help in the least, her headache increased at times. She was serious when she said she just wanted to sleep, but Killian seemed not to have caught the hint, since he insisted and insisted.

"Did something go wrong in the chase? Are you hurt? Is Graham with you?" Before she could reply he continued, his voice sounding more and more worried. "And don't tell me you're fine, because I'm not buying it, Swan. Not when we haven't seen each other for five days and a couple of hours ago we had already agreed to meet today. So what has changed? Tell me, Emma, please. What's going on?"

Tell him, tell him, tell him.

I can't. I don't know how to do it.

"I will call you tomorrow."

"Don't push me away. Talk to me, Emma, please." He begged, causing a wave of guilt to settle in her stomach. She had screwed everything up with that reckless movement and put them both in such an unpleasant situation that she didn't even know how to react, so she acted by habit, attacking.

"Stop controlling me. You're not my father."

"Of course not. I would never abandon you."

His words acted like a dart piercing her heart. He was right, though and maybe she deserved that low blow, but that didn't stop his reply from inflicting an even deeper pain than the physical she was already feeling, since it was nothing more than a reminder of what she always would be, an orphan.

"Gods Emma. I didn't...I'm so—" 

"No." She didn't need to hear his apologies. Not now, maybe never. She was so furious and frustrated that she was tempted to press the button to end the call without any warning. Although she was a real mess at this time, at least a glimmer of lucidity appeared in her brain, reminding her of the issues he had with abruptly terminated phone calls, one of the crosses he had to bear due to the post-traumatic stress disorder he suffered. She wasn't that cruel. "I'm going to hang up now."

She didn't need anyone. She clenched her jaw and hardened her features, dropping the phone on the couch and then headed for the bathroom. Her determination was short-lived, though, especially when she realized how difficult it was to function with only one hand. Even more so when the lid of the damn first aid kit seemed to be blocked and she found herself unable to open it.

The back of her eyes began to sting as the growing frustration gripped her, but she blinked furiously, preventing tears from spilling. She had always managed well by herself. What if she couldn't reach the antiseptic? She could simply use water and some tissues.

That was when she finally decided to look in the mirror. A gasp escaped from her mouth the moment her eyes fell on her reflection, the urge to cry appearing again. Her face was a mess. She had gotten a nasty wound above her left eyebrow that was still bleeding a little. In addition to her split lip, there was also a bruise and several small cuts on her cheek, probably caused by the rough pavement of the park and her left eye appeared partially swollen. A small sigh of defeat slipped between her lips, but she forced herself to regain her composure, moistening one of the tissues and beginning to wipe away the blood that had already begun to dry.

Her facade of a tough girl weakened at the moment when her eyes met with the eyes from her reflection in the mirror. It was as if her own reflection was recriminating her for her poor way of acting and her inability to handle the situation correctly.

"You should have told him.”

“I don't need him. Or anyone.”

Great. Now she had begun a silent argument with her own reflection. She had definitely gone insane after the blow to the head.

“So you don't need anyone. How are you supposed to open the first aid kit? How are you going to fix your shoulder?”

“I'll figure it out.”

 "No, you won't. You're used to acting on your own. I get it. But you're not alone anymore. What are you afraid of?”

Thick tears began to slide down her cheeks, clouding her vision and blurring the image that the mirror returned. She was afraid of feeling too much, of giving someone else the power to destroy her. But she was also afraid of herself, because no matter how much she masked it, she couldn't help feeling like a failure. It had been her own irresponsibility that had put her in this mess and she seemed unable to get out of it.

Her reflection did not seem to have compassion, as it continued to attack her by throwing reality in her face.

"How would you have acted if he had been in your position?”

The mere idea of Killian injured caused a feeling of unease to crawl up and form a lump in her throat, while her heart tightened in her chest.

“I would have panicked.”

"Just like him. It's what happens when you love someone, you worry. And he loves you, Emma.”

"He has never admitted it out loud.”

“Maybe not with words, but his actions speak for him. You love him and he loves you. You have nothing to fear. Call him. Let someone take care of you for once. You deserve it.” 

"Oh God. I'm such an idiot." She squeezed her eyes closed as she pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to keep the tears from falling. She took a trembling breath as she tried to slow the rapid beat of her heart. Once she seemed to have calmed down enough, she looked at herself in the mirror again. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips while her head moved slightly, nodding in encouragement. After one last look at her reflection, she headed back to the living room and grabbed her phone, looking for Killian's chat window.

She wasn't surprised to see some missed calls and several messages, but she ignored them for the moment and concentrated on typing with one hand.

I 'm sorry. Do you still want to come to my apartment?

His response was immediate.

I'm the one who should apologize. I'll be there in twenty minutes if that's fine with you.

It’s ok. Thanks.

Her heart fluttered at the mere thought of seeing him again. Although the fear of his possible reaction was still latent, now that she seemed to have finally dared to overcome one of her concerns, she couldn't wait to see him. There was no doubt that those twenty minutes were going to become eternal.

She didn't have to wait that long, luckily. Seventeen minutes later someone knocked on her door. Her stomach tightened into knots as her heart skipped a beat, but she hurried to open the door. She just hoped he didn't get a heart attack when he saw her face.

//

Thanks for reading, let me know what you think :)

The next chapter will come in a few days, this time with both Killian and Emma's POV.

@rouhn @couldnthandleit @teamhook @malec4everr @ijustwantyoucaskett-always@kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @suwya @thisonesatellite @lfh1962

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #cs au ff #captain swan ff #call me #my cs writings #mayquita writes

[delicatebluebirdruins]

the hunger games: Catching Fire

i know I’m early but I don’t know the actual time this starts and I’m kind of tired so I’ll just post this now (23:29 pm) and go to bed

1. I love the opening of this film- the music, the cinematography and the outfit Kat is wearing

2. the conversations between Kat and Gale are so awkward

side note: i know someone who worked in the special effects department of this film; i also still have the cinema ticket for it and the odeon article about the film

3. why is the bread that Peeta walks in carrying looks like it has been burned?

4. i love but also don’t understand Mrs E’s accent when she asks “did you have a good walk dear”

5. “this town reduced to ashes” this line from Snow is chilling especially when you know whats going to happen

6. I really don’t care for Effie at the best of times... the hug with Cinna though is amazing

7. “must feed the monster” interesting line from Effie there thoughts?

8. I love the snow kiss

9. “things are great here in 12” But not for long (I am appalled at the lack of Bob Hale/ Dave Lamb gifs tumblr)

10. i love Peeta’s quip about how much closer him and Katniss are

11. I understand Kat’s reaction to the “you’ve earned it line”

12. of course you’re not good with friends Kat you have no true friends in the films

13. Effie’s hair is not that bright a orange really 

14. I love the mockingjay in the tunnel and the broken lights flickering

15. i love, love Peeta’s speech and I love the use of Rue’s theme during Kat’s speech and i love the speech but i wish they kept “thank you for your children” and i love the salute

16. i wish we saw the District numbers... and did you notice that they used the same extra in a few of the scenes?

17. i am glad we got a brief glimpse into nights on the train

18. i love the addition of Snow’s granddaughter

19. I love Caesar being so close to Kat when Peeta is proposing

20. “attitude”... the music... the shoulder touch and the creepy smile... the hat tip toward Peeta... the three nails painted black on Peeta’s left hand... “tough act to follow” Effie’s reaction

21. “a chance for the games to mean something”... the fireworks and I love the blood in Snow’s glass

22. i hate the addition of “Gale maybe if we were away from here things would be different between us”

23. Commander Thread is scary

24. I don’t like the change to Gale’s whipping story line

25. I kind of like the blood splatters on Thread

26. I dislike Mrs E having shaking hands when trying to get the morphling out

27. I like this scene with Prim and Katniss however I don’t like Kat’s opening statement

28. I just noticed that Katniss and Prim are sitting together and there is a empty space between Prim and their mum- I love Kat’s reaction to the Quell

side note: I made a excellent pause on Kat’s face when she takes the first swig

29. why did they have to add in the extra kiss between Kat and Gale

30. I love the reaping scene: the music, how sombre (words are hard) it is, Kat’s braid, Effie’s outfit, Effie’s reaction to saying Haymitch’s name and her saying Peeta’s after he volunteers

31. “show then that we are a team, that they can’t just...” what was Effie going to finish with here?

32. “forget everything  you think you know about the games”- Cinema Sins: ding

33. i love Haymitch applauding the morphlings for self medicating but it always kind of confuses me

34, Mags is someone we had for only a few days and I always get attached to her despite knowing she dies

35. i love the tribute outfit... and saying hi to the horse... the editing for the “i outgrew them” scene is really abrupt... the smiles between Kat and Peeta... I still wish this scene was at night

36. I love Seeder, Chaff not so much... I hate Haymitch’s reaction to Johanna undressing

37. Brutus spear arm strength though... I love Wiress laughing about the force field... Mags is amazing... I love the shooting scene and Wiress applauding Kat’s abilities

38. I love Kat seeing rue’s painting but i also don’t

39. hello knot tying skills... I wish there was a greater reaction to “Seneca” hanging with them

40. Caesar’s opening for the interviews is amazing but also kind of chilling

41. Caesar’s reaction to Beetee’s suggestion about changing the law

42. what was with the bleeping out of Johanna’s words?

43. “actually be your happier self” made me snort

44. i love the wedding dress... I love Kat going yay spinning, then wtf, then i’m a bird now... I love the mockingjay dress

45. I love Haymitch toasting Peeta after the baby bomb

46. the hand holding... the audience’s reaction

47. Cinna getting hurt is always going to be hard to watch

48. when Kat comes out of the tube in the film it is done so well the panic, the feeling of being thrown of kilter (I wonder how different it would have been without a soundtrack and the only sound we hear is waves) the perfect pairing with “this is no place for a girl on fire”

49. I love the force field kiss

50. Again Snow’s granddaughter is a great addition

51, I wonder how much the Capitol’s electricity bill is

52. I love the spile... and Finnick giving the water to Mags

53. Mags reaction to the chimes hurts me

54. Yes I am in the hunger games, yes i am going to touch the fog you know just to check its actually fog and not some scary weapon

55. the fog scene makes me sad when Finnick keeps telling Mags please get up and later when she walks into the fog... I love the music when the fog disappears (still wish Peeta had lost his leg in the films)

56. i love the Peeta talking to the morphling and how pretty the scene is

57. I wish they kept the pearl scene the same

58. Johanna pulls off the “bloody” look well

side note: my sister came and was really sad to see Wiress 

59. the jabberjay scene is horrible... “it’s not real”... I wonder if the Capitol edited videos of Everlark to make it seem like Kat’s the bad guy when they had Peeta dosed with tracker jacker venom

60. I love Finnick twirling the trident in the background

61. I love how the pictures in the locket are just promo pictures... Beach kiss is amazing and I love Johanna calling them lovebirds (I wonder if she was invited to the wedding)

62, I love the “see you at midnight kiss”

63. I love Finnick

64. I love the effect of the “storm clouds” and the force field

65. Snow’s reaction to the arena’s destruction is great (though as i’m typing this I am curious about the timeline like when did the bombers get sent? when Kat was unconscious? how long was she unconscious for?)

66. I love the music for the arena’s destruction: how its shot and of course the music

67. “about the boy” just to clarify about Peeta 

68. Its painful to watch Kat’s reaction to learning where Peeta is, her voice breaking with Haymitch’s betrayal and pain over where Peeta is

69. Gale couldn’t you have waited to tell her that D12 was razed to the ground?... I also love the last shot of the film focusing on the emotions flitting across Kat’s face

#thg movie #catching fire #movies #long post #thgmovies