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stainedglasstruth · 1 year ago

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Left And Leaving || Xóchitl & Arden

TIMING: June LOCATION: The Wormhole PARTIES: Xóchitl (@vanishingreyes) & Arden (@stainedglasstruth) SUMMARY: Childhood friends meet at the bar. There's a bit of catching up, and a bit more as well. CONTENT WARNINGS: Alcoholism & child death tw

She’d never been inside a bar in town before she’d returned back “home” – if calling it home made sense. Xóchitl knew that by all technical accounts, it did. After all, she’d been born in Wicked’s Rest, and if not for certain exceedingly unfortunate events, she would have still lived there, all throughout her childhood and beyond. There were very clear reasons why that hadn’t happened, but still. Sometimes she didn’t even like calling the town home, no matter how true it might’ve been.

Still, she’d never been in a bar as a kid, and had somehow avoided it until now (drinking at home was preferable in some ways), but tonight Xóchitl had very explicitly decided to go out, to dress hot or whatever that was, and just not think about anything else, because being at home allowed her to get too much into her head in a way that she certainly didn’t like. It made her feel itchy, like when Mama had gotten her to wear a wool sweater one winter and she’d spent the whole night at the Nutcracker itching at her arms.

She was only half a drink in when she heard someone near her, and she turned to face them - their face familiar, though it was taking Xóchitl slightly longer than she would’ve liked to remember - except then she did and – “Arden!” She grinned. “Guess we’re both old enough to drink now, huh? You look great.”

Arden had a bit of a love/hate relationship with bars. In Boston, she had hit up the bars regularly, looking for drinks or a hookup. The drinks helped her loosen up and get out of her head for a while, and the hookups were a whole other kind of distraction from the mess in her head. She would flirt and mingle, sometimes even get a juicy little bit of information when she hadn’t been looking for any. However, she wasn’t the biggest fan of being surrounded by a lot of people, even less so when they were loud and drunk. But the past several weeks had been a little chaotic for the woman, and she could stand to blow off some steam.

She was sitting at the bar, and was just about to order a second drink, when she heard her name. Turning her attention to the nearby– beautiful– woman, she did look somewhat familiar. “Hey,” she said cautiously, trying to rack her brain as to where she knew this person from. It took her a little too long to place her, and the ‘I’m sorry, but do I know you’ was halfway out of her mouth when something clicked and Arden’s brows jumped up. “Holy shit, Xóchitl?” A smile was spreading across her face as years old memories flitted past her mind’s eye. “I didn’t know you were back in town. How are you? How have you been?

“Ha, thank you. You look– I mean, damn.” She laughed it off, not wanting to make the other uncomfortable or anything. But, like, damn, though. Wicked’s Rest was truly going to kill her, if not from the magic and monsters, then from the sheer amount of ridiculously hot people living there.

“Just since March. I’m well, been well, I’ve got a PhD now, which isn’t too shabby, I don’t think.” Screw it, she was allowed to brag and be proud of herself, wasn’t she? Xóchitl hadn’t seen Arden since she’d left Wicked’s Rest years ago, and though they’d never been as close as she’d been with Mackenzie, they had known each other and had been friends at least to some degree, hadn’t they? So it was simultaneously comforting and alarming to see someone who’d known her when she still wore multi-colored uncoordinated outfits and wasn’t set into a state of panic by playgrounds.

But right now, Arden was complimenting her looks and so she could relish in that, focus on that, all instead of focusing on her past. “I’ll take your damn and turn it right back to you.” Xóchitl smirked. “But thank you very much, I’m glad this outfit highlights my looks.” She tended to dress in a way that would be flattering to her, but her outfits for bars were far different from her outfits for daily life or work. “Can I buy you a drink?”

It was strange and a bit anxiety inducing, seeing one of the very few friends she had had as a child again. Between being more extroverted than she was now, her insatiable curiosity, and the fact that she had still been learning to read and socialize with others, Arden had been kind of annoying on top of being the bookish nerd. Turns out, that wasn’t the best combination of traits if you wanted to make friends. Xóchitl had always been kind, though. She had known they weren’t the best of friends, that title reserved for Mackenzie, whose sudden death had been difficult for her to process at such a young age, and they weren’t very close at all. It had to have been so incredibly difficult for Xó.

Honestly, her parents’ decision to move away from this town had probably been the best call. Mackenzie had only been the first person Arden had known to be taken by Wicked’s Rest, there had been plenty of others– classmates, parents, siblings, friends, friends of friends. If you lived here long enough, you were likely only two, maybe three degrees of separation away from someone who had died. Unfortunately, it seemed she wasn’t the only one drawn back to the town. She just hoped Xóchitl wouldn’t grow to regret that decision.

But for now they were in a bar, they were having drinks, and they were reconnecting– her bummer train of thought needed to go. She took a swig of her drink as she focused on the other’s words. “Well, welcome back,” Arden grinned. “Oh, damn, a doctorate? I even might go as far as to say that’s impressive.” The friendly smile curled up, a bit more mischievous, especially as Xó volleyed the damn right back to her. “Only if I can buy you one, as well.”

“I was never one to turn down a drink from a friend, or a pretty woman. Since you happen to be both, I’m pretty positive I’m legally not allowed to say no.” Xóchitl shrugged. “But I’m not any sort of law expert, so if you think differently, I’ll understand…” Because focusing on the fact that Arden had known her (and known her well) as a child was weird and simultaneously deeply uncomfortable and some of the most relaxed she’d felt since arriving. Comfort in uncomfortable situations. Like when she got into her mom’s car and it was so hot that she got cold.

This was kind of like that, except her legs didn’t stick to the seat and she couldn’t daydream without actually being rude.

She didn’t want to be rude to Arden, of all people. Mackenzie had been her first (and best) friend, but Arden had been around a great deal, and she’d always been kind to Xóchitl, even if Xóchitl didn’t always understand what she was talking about. “Still reading like nobody’s business?” She raised one of her eyebrows. “If you can believe it, I like reading now more than I used to.” Just not fantasy stories. That much she loathed.

She laughed, cheeks reddening slightly at the compliment. “Well, we can’t have you getting into trouble on my account. Besides, I tend to live my life by a similar philosophy.” As some who also liked drinks and women, and flirting with women, Arden certainly wasn’t going to say no. It didn’t have to lead to anything, but, seeing as Xóchitl was back in town, it would be nice to catch up with her.

“Yes,” she chuckled, running a hand through her hair. “More so for work than pleasure, unfortunately.” That sheepish feeling flared, thinking about how Xó had only seen her at her most uncouth. There wasn’t really anyone else she could say the same about, wasn’t really anyone else she had been close to at such a young age. It was a strange feeling– an embarrassing one, too. But it was fine, they had been kids then, it wasn’t a big deal, she tried to tell herself that. Anyway, it went down a little easier with whiskey.

“We love to see it,” she grinned. “Have you stopped by Fully Booked in Oldtown yet?” Arden couldn’t help herself; she was proud of Leah for running her own business, and it being a bookstore– a great bookstore– made it that much better. Her friend found a way to make a living off of something she loved, and it warmed her heart to see. It was nice to hear that Xóchitl had done well for herself, as well. It all felt so… adult– in a way that still felt strange sometimes, even more so now that she was back in her hometown.

“Exactly, can’t have me getting into legal trouble, what a shame that would be.” The grin didn’t leave her face, if anything, it only grew more prominent as they seemed to easily slide into some sort of familiar pattern despite not having seen one another in years - and Xóchitl also had, admittedly, not reached out, but then again, neither had Arden, so she wasn’t about to go throwing blame, but if that were the case, they were equally at fault, here. Except that neither of them were at fault because things changed, and that was that.

“Well, that’s a bummer, and I’m of the belief that pleasure should be chosen whenever possible.” Which, yes, perhaps held a bit more of a double meaning than she maybe had fully intended, but she didn’t really mind too much. Going with the flow seemed to be the right sort of choice for this evening. Or it would have to be, Xóchitl decided.

“I have.” Even if she didn’t have a lot of free time (though that was more by her own choice than her actual obligations), bookstores were good sorts of places to go. “It’s a wonderful store.” It was, and the woman who ran it looked somewhat familiar though Xóchitl couldn’t quite place her. “What drink do you want?”

”A terrible shame,“ she nodded, breathing out a laugh. ”If worse came to worse, though, you'd have a killer mugshot.“

“Is that so?” Arden asked, cocking an eyebrow. Xóchitl was quite a flirt, and regardless of where the night would take them, they had an easy banter going that she was really enjoying. “Sounds like a good way to live life.” After downing what was left of her whiskey, she turned down the flirty energy a little as she offered up some actual information about herself. “I do love my job, though …you know, generally speaking.“ She decided to only give Xó the highlights for now. There was no need to kill the mood with all of the bummer details. “I got my Masters in journalism here, left town for a few years, and now I'm back and working at the paper– Something Wicked.”

”Isn't it?” Her smile shifted into something slightly more soft as she thought of Leah and the store. “I am definitely biased, being best friends with the owner, but it really is a great little bookshop. Anyway, that's enough of the unintentional plugs,“ she grinned, poking fun at herself. ”I'll take a whiskey on the rocks. What can I get you?“

“Well, at least that’s something.” Xóchitl offered a rue smile. “Though I suppose I’d prefer to be photographed in better lighting than a jail.” The words felt fumbled, to a degree. More awkward than they should have been, when speaking to a friend. Though, she supposed, she couldn’t be faulted given that they hadn’t been in contact in two decades, and Xóchitl was, probably, best known for being Mackenzie’s friend, back then.

“It is so.” This was easier territory, one where she could flirt with abandon, without having to care too much at all. “It does make a nice way to live life, and I suppose it keeps me from ever being bored.” It also just plain kept her distracted, but that was a less fun way of putting things. Xóchitl nodded, “that’s good. It’s good to enjoy your job, and I hope you enjoy your work at the paper. Can’t say I can complain too much about my job.”

Another nod. “I don’t mind you being prideful in things like this, and it’s nice to know about new things in this town.” Xóchitl thought a moment, “tequila on the rocks for me, please. I just like how it goes down.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re using any ring lights for those mugshots.” What the fuck was she even saying? That second round couldn’t come soon enough.

It made her grin, but she did have to wonder if it was purely innuendo or not. In the past few years, she had had her fair share of flings, but Arden couldn’t really say that she had made choices that ultimately lead to a pleasureful life. She had chosen short-term pleasure, sure, but, well, that exactly didn’t last, did it? She certainly hadn’t been bored, but then again, she wasn’t the kind of person who did well with sitting still. Be it work or sex or research, she always felt as if she needed to be doing something, had to keep running. It had just left her lonely and miserable, though. However, Xóchitl wasn’t her and projecting that onto her would be a mistake.

“I do,” she nodded. Mostly. She didn’t exactly love having to twist the truth in her reporting, but as a Scribe she was in the unique position of having enough knowledge to do it well, being aware of many of the various threats in the town, how dangerous they were, how to hopefully keep people safe, to keep history from repeating itself. And there were a lot of things for her to investigate in Wicked’s Rest. “Even with all the tight deadlines,” she joked, pursing her lips. “What exactly are you doing with that impressive PhD of yours?”

Arden flashed her a slightly sheepish smile. “Noted.” As Xó shared her drink of choice she nodded, motioning to the bartender to add it to her tab. She bit back her smirk, wondering if that was another innuendo or her mind was just in the gutter. “I can definitely appreciate a good tequila myself.”

“Maybe in like, Los Angeles or something, but sure as shit not here.” It didn’t make sense, and Xóchitl knew that, but apparently talking nonsense was her theme of the evening. Which certainly was an interesting first impression on someone she hadn’t seen since they were literal children.

She hadn’t exactly sought real connection with most anyone, recently. In fact, Xóchitl did make almost a concerted sort of effort to not connect, which made flings easier, when things didn’t matter. Not that whomever she slept with didn’t matter, but by having them not become someone close to her, she negated the possibility of losing somebody important. To her, that was. Everyone was important to somebody but the selfish part of her said that maybe, just possibly, things didn’t matter as much if she didn’t feel a personal loss.

Which might have made her a bad person.

“I’m a clinical psychologist, and thank you very much for calling it impressive.” Xóchitl threw Arden another wink. “Though I’d venture to say that being a journalist is perhaps even more impressive. I do suppose that we each work to understand the world around us in our own sort of way, don’t we?”

“You should get one, then.” Xóchitl was flirting, but she wasn’t going to push anything, not if Arden didn’t want – the other woman could take the lead all she wanted, if she wanted. If not, just catching up itself was perfectly ideal.

It was a ridiculous response to her ridiculous statement and it made Arden laugh. She was grateful that Xó could ‘yes and’ her nonsense. It made sense in light of learning she was a psychologist– her old friend was charming, easy to talk to. They were settling into a fun, comfortable sort of banter, and she could imagine how her calm, confident demeanor would translate well into a more professional setting like that.

She smiled at the attempt to turn the tables on her. “I don’t know, a psychologist, that’s very impressive,” she smirked, quirking an eyebrow at the other. Though her smile melted into something more genuine as she continued, “It’s admirable, helping people like that.” Certainly more admirable than her job felt these days, even if she knew she was doing the right thing. Either way, the doctor’s observation was rather astute.

“That’s a good way to look at it, yeah.” She often found her writing process was like solving a puzzle. First she gathered all the pieces, and then she arranged them into a coherent narrative. In that way, she supposed it was like trying to understand the news, the world, even, as if it were a book she was trying to analyze. Because it always came back to books for her, didn’t it?

With Xóchitl, though, she supposed the other woman found more sense in trying to understand how the mind worked, or even how other people saw the world. Which definitely sounded like a better, more logical way to go about things. It was certainly more realistic and involved than feeling like an outside observer trying to make sense of things like she was back in one of her old college lit classes. She couldn’t help but think that Xóchitl was the kind of woman Arden’s mother had always wanted her to be.

And with that thought, some tequila did sound like a great idea, honestly.

She smiled gratefully at the bartender for their amazing timing, taking a good sip of her whiskey as she shoved any and all thoughts of her mother as far away as humanly possible. Instead, she focused on the gorgeous woman beside her and that mischievous, flirty glint in her eyes. “You know, I think I will.”

She wasn’t just talking about tequila.

Arden’s laugh was nice. More than just nice, even, there was something of a relief in it – relief that she didn’t think Xóchitl was too much now, relief that they could still joke even though they’d been children the last time they saw each other, relief that she could still work things the way she wanted. Not that she’d been especially doubtful about the last of those things, she had always had at least something of an easy time working whatever room she found herself thrown into.

“I do what I can.” Xóchitl didn’t especially find herself keen to go into more of the depths behind why she’d ended up doing what she did. Even with Arden, who’d at least casually known Mackenzie, talking about her dead best friend was still a surefire way to kill any mood that might be developing. But she had to admit that being praised certainly wasn’t anything she intended to turn down anytime soon. It did still make her feel very (very) good.

She’d just wanted to know how people worked, to be able to understand the why behind so many things, in a desperate sort of way to at least attempt to solve problems. Namely, her own, and to figure out what had happened to Mackenzie, but figuring out things for other people wasn’t so bad at all. Xóchitl liked when she was able to bring relief to people, to help them.

For all that she claimed not to care, she knew that she did, in fact, care. Arden did too, that much was clear, even if the other woman wasn’t being so very forthcoming about any of it.

The glint in the other woman’s eyes did feel nice. “I mean, you can also try mine, first, but I do deeply recommend it.” Xóchitl reached and brushed a tiny, hardly noticeable strand of hair away from Arden’s face. “Didn’t want anything to block your view – or my view of you.”

“Hey, that’s all anyone can ask for,” she shot back with an easy smile and a shrug of her shoulders. Though if Xóchitl was going to be practicing in Wicked’s Rest she would probably be facing a lot of weird shit, and quite a lot of heaviness, too. Arden hoped she would be able to handle it. There were certainly a lot of people in town who could use the help of a professional after things they’d witnessed or endured here. She had the potential to do a lot of good here– if the town didn��t scare her off.

But she also had to wonder how much, if anything, Xó knew about the supernatural. Had she learned anything before they had left? Or had she learned anything after leaving wherever it had been that she had ended up? She was curious to know more about her, about why she had decided to come back after all these years the same way Arden herself had. However, those weren’t the kind of questions you could just spring on someone you hadn’t spoken to in decades.

Besides, they were definitely flirting and having a nice time, she didn’t want to ruin that.

“In that case, you’re more than welcome to try mine, as well,” she offered.

They had gradually been shifting closer to one another as their chat progressed, but Arden hadn’t been entirely conscious of how close they were until Xóchitl reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The move was maybe slightly cliché, but it was one that worked– she knew that from experience. And it was working on her, too, her cheeks warming despite herself. It helped that the view was rather alluring. “How very considerate of you. It is a gorgeous view, I must say. But, not just views, of course, doctor,” she added playfully.

“You make a very good point,” she replied, in turn. She’d never intended to return to town, not specifically at least. Though, Xóchitl supposed, the thought of it all had always rested somewhere in the back of her mind, ever since she’d left. Ever since her moms had packed up their house, a part of her knew she’d have to come back, because Mackenzie deserved that. Heck, she deserved that, to put an end to all the confusion she constantly felt. Not that her confusion had come to much of any sort of an end since she’d returned – if anything, being back around this town had only heightened her confusion. Her feelings of hollowness and loss –

– which, she supposed, was part of why she found herself at bars more than she’d been in a number of years. Doing something to fill the confusing hollowness that sometimes seemed to be never ending. So flirting and drinking was good and let her take her mind off things, and, not that she felt like she needed it, but the boost of confidence that she got certainly didn’t help.

Flirting with a former friend was maybe weird, but at the same time, Xóchitl had flirted with current friends before, and she hadn’t seen Arden in decades, either, and since they hadn’t exactly kept in touch, she figured that this was more akin to running into a vaguely familiar stranger. Not in any sort of bad way – if anything, it made everything about Arden just that much more alluring.

“Then I think I might.” She took Arden’s drink from her hand and took a small sip. “Not bad, you’ve got good taste.” Faint remnants of lipstick were on the rim of the glass, and Xóchitl knew how terribly clichéd all of this was, but there was another part of her that relished in the clichés.

“I do believe in getting to know things more intimately. Views rarely do justice to the actual thing.” Xóchitl winked. “And yes, you are quite a gorgeous view, in my highly trained opinion.”

She so did love to hear that. Call her conceited, but Arden loved being right, and hearing others admit to it, to tell her that, it was always a shot of dopamine straight to the brain. She really had thrived in a school environment.

“I do try,” she grinned. But it was true. Xóchitl could downplay it all she wanted, but working as a psychologist, it was objectively admirable work. She wouldn’t make it weird and make a whole thing about it, but it was… nice knowing that the little girl she’d known had gone on to make this impressive life for herself, that she had, undoubtedly, worked her ass off to dedicate her life to helping others.

…it also felt a little insane that someone her age was a doctor, that she had such an important, adult job, but that was neither here nor there.

They traded drinks, and Arden tried to be mindful of the fact that she was wearing lipstick as she took a sip from the other’s glass. Still, there were traces of maroon marks left as she handed it back over, the tequila going down rather smoothly. It was good, sweet and somewhat floral. “Mm,” she hummed, “likewise. Tequila’s not my go-to, but maybe I need to start switching it up a bit more.”

She was starting to feel the drinks a little now, a warmth settling in her stomach and spreading through her veins. Though, it wasn’t just the drinks, of course.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she smirked. And the compliment only served to pull a chuckle out of her. “Oh, I don’t know, doc.” Her eyes flicked over Xóchitl’s form momentarily. “You might want to do a more thorough examination before you jump to any conclusions.”

“Well, in my obviously unbiased opinion, I think you succeed quite well.” So maybe she liked complimenting people who so clearly enjoyed it. Especially because far too often she came across people who seemed to either not want the compliments, or give off a sense of false modesty around them. Xóchitl found herself far more confused by people not wanting the compliments, but she’d elected to not focus on that too much.

Or, at least, to try to not focus on that too much. Her successes varied based on the day – hell, even based on the hour.

But Arden was taking her compliments and rolling with them and that made the other woman all the more beautiful to Xóchitl. “I think you should try it more. I’d be happy to give you any amount of recommendations that you might want or need…” her voice trailed off as she took another sip of her drink, the way it made her mind feel halfway wavy and made her relax more than welcome.

Not to say that she wasn’t relaxed because of her drinking partner, but more because of… just about everything else in her life. Which was an exceedingly dramatic way to think about it, but screw that thought process, because Xóchitl knew she was allowed to feel whatever sort of way that she wanted to deal.

Arden’s eyes made their way over her body, and Xóchitl’s lips turned up into a properly mischievous grin that time. “I might not be that exact type of doctor, but I’d also be probably, like, totally inattentive if I didn’t. I will say, I’d much prefer to do the examination in private. Specifically my place. I do have more tequila there, too, you know, for extrinsic motivating factors.” Before she could think twice, she’d pressed her lips against Arden’s. “I promise to be very thorough.”

“Well, I very much appreciate it,” Arden smiled, feeling amused and maybe a little too self-satisfied. There was nothing like a compliment from a beautiful, intelligent woman to make you feel more confident in yourself. The drinks also helped, she supposed.

“Coming from a woman with such good taste, I’ll gladly take any recommendations you might have.” …okay, that one felt like a little too much somehow. She chased the words with another sip of whiskey, and it helped them go down much more easily.

Maybe the doctor shtick had been low-hanging fruit, but it was right there, she’d had to. “Exactly,” she grinned. She was trying to think of a witty response when Xóchitl closed the distance between them. It obviously wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it still managed to catch her off guard slightly. It took her mind a second to catch up, and by then the other woman was starting to pull away. Her lips chased Xó’s, needing to properly kiss her back before they separated, Arden grinning.

“How could I possibly say no to that?”

#alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #child death tw #writing #wickedswriting #collab #vanishingreyes #wr xochitl

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llycaons · 2 years ago

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Cor’s Definitive MDZS/CQL Fanfiction Recommendation Page

Hi and welcome!

About me: I'm white and can only speak English, so while I’ve read a some analysis and done some research, I know my perspective is limited and I apologize in advance for any mistakes or misinterpretations.

I'm primarily a cql fan, though I did enjoy the donghua. I read the ExR novel translation several years ago and I have a complicated relationship with it, enjoying the explicit character development, humor, worldbuilding, originality, and some romantic scenes, while disliking how homophobia and sexual assault are handled as well as some structural elements. I have no familiarity with the audio drama or mdzs q show. I like tgcf, but the fics here are only for cql/mdzs.

About the fics: Any version of canon, though I prefer cql characterizations. Mostly wangxian, with a handful of other background relationships and some character studies. My favorite characters are wwx, lwj, jyl, wen ning, and jin ling, but lwj has a very special place in my heart. I enjoy jc as a character but find it hard to find fics that write him in a way I agree with. I prefer shorter works.

18+ rec list. Explicit works can be in any category.

I try to include content warnings on fics, depending on how well I remember. Please always defer to the tags and the author notes.

Works with be starred once for faves, and twice for ultimate faves.

Fics recommended in the first 5 sections of this list are guaranteed NOT to have the following

pedophilia/csa, teacher/student relationship, sexual ageplay, explicit works involving the juniors, or any couple with a significant age gap

incest, including wwx with jc, lsz with ljy, and jin ling with lsz. the canon qin su and jgy incest may be mentioned, but I find that comes up rarely

romanticized rape, including everything under the umbrella of noncon, dubcon, fuck or die, sex pollen, sex curses, drunk sex scenes, warprize, nonconsensual somnophilia, necrophilia, etc

note on novel ‘canonical kinks’ - a couple of fics do reference rape fantasy/cnc but they’re few and far between, and only in a few fics will there be any actual scenes of it

abusive or 'dark' wwx or lwj (or anyone not already abusive)

lxc/jgy, 3zun, or xy/xxc unless it’s treated critically. some fics may mention it but none will have scenes of them in a relationship

fics feminizing wwx - some gray area here, but if it's really bad I put it in section 6

genderbends/cisswaps

A/B/O

cop AUs

harry potter crossovers

Section 6 is reserved for fics with one of more of these issues (mostly background 3zun, some weirdness w the sex scenes, or hinted jl/lzs) , but none will have csa or sibling incest.

A note on authors: Vetted to an extent, based on tags for mdzs and cql works only. Anything above is listed in ‘author issues’ section. Current as of early 2023. There should be nobody on here who’s written csa or adult/child smut, so please let me know if you find something I’ve missed.

I haven’t reread all works on this list recently and I may have overlooked something about them. I welcome any corrections.

The list is split into sections and then categories by theme. The fics are otherwise not listed in any particular order.

With no further ado, let’s get to the fanfiction!

Section One: The heart of it all

I: The name of the song: that sweet sweet postcanon getting-together content II: To be in the world again: wei wuxian, relearning how to live III: From then on, he was unable to look away again: postcanon wangxian

Section Two: Snapshots

IV. So this first love was all for you: anything short and sweet! V. If I was doomed to death: angsty flashback-era fics VI. Now try saying something true and beautiful: explicit works that make a point using sex or sex scenes

Section Three: Character

VII. A-xian is my didi: on jiang yanli VIII. I still am: oh, lan wangji IX. Let’s be brothers again: jiang cheng, you clown

Section Four: Possibilities

X. Wicked tricks and beyond: modern with magic AUs XI: In another life: modern AUs - no magic XII. Things that might have been: canon divergences/retellings

Section Five: The Others

XIII. The little ones: works focused on the children XIV. Well well well what have we here: an exploration of other side characters XV: Shenanigans: COMEDY. boy do I love a laugh

Section Six: Lower your standards

XVI: Well you see…: Fics that I am still recommending, but with compunctions XVII: Put on some horse blinders: fics for which I have to list particularly egregious author issues (rape porn, sibling incest) XVIII: The shame corner for naughty fanfiction: fics with issues within the actual work (again, mostly minor)

Section Seven: The Dumpster Fire

He said WHAT?: Fics that are so bad I’m posting them for the sole purpose of complaining about them

Bonus Content

Misc treats: includes interviews, poetry, meta, and writing resources

this concludes my rec list! feel free to send me an ask about anything you found on here. thanks for reading! be well, stay safe, and have fun out there :)

#ficblogging #fic recs #welcome #here's the FULL thing but I'm posting a shorter one soon

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adonis-koo · 3 years ago

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wicked • 5

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 5.3k

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Note: bye this took me way longer then needed to write but its finally here and lemme tell yall, they might as well already kiss T_T

“I can’t apologize to you enough Wheein.”

Your morning had been horrid, your head pounded and you had vomited whatever you had eaten the day before right up. The tight dress you wore, the sun shining on your face, everything made you feel sick.

“M’lady,” Wheein frowned gently, “It’s not a big deal…”

“No it is!” You insistent as you walked side by side with her to the arena, you had slept in later than usual, perhaps Wheein had known you wouldn’t be able to wake up as early and you had no intentions of eating breakfast at this rate.

“I was utterly irresponsible last night, I shouldn’t have let those men persuade me to drink and above all else I shouldn’t of made you drink with me!” You stopped as you faced her, your expression firm before it softened a little as you mumbled, “Please forgive me. I’m sure it was an unpleasant night having to get me up all those stairs and somehow into bed.”

“M’lady,” Wheein offered a weak smile as she nodded her head, “Of course I forgive you. I only wanted to make sure you were safe last night, and you are! No feelings harm.”

She tenderly hooked her arm around yours as she began to walk once more as she spoke, “And don’t give me so much credit m’lady. His Highness helped you to bed after all. There was no way we were making it up the stairs last night.”

Wheein laughed tenderly but your body had stiffened at her words as you did a double take. His Highness…?

Wheein paused herself as she frowned, “Oh my...you do remember that, yes?” She looked a little worried as you swallowed thickly, your lips immediately trembling. His highness!? As in the Prince- Your husband!?

You were mortified!

“The Prince was very kind in helping out! I assume you must have made it to bed as that's where you were when I woke you up this morning!” Wheein immediately stammered out, “I would’ve helped but he dismissed me to my quarters! I...I know you wouldn’t like the idea but, you should thank him after the tournament is over today!”

Just the idea made you want to shrivel up into yourself and never return to the world. Thank him…!? It wasn’t that, the idea revolted you but...Jungkook had saw you last night, blacked out drunk and god only knew what you said to him! It was humiliating just to think about…!

You only shook your head, your expression distraught as you spoke, “I must have made a complete ass of myself…”

“Don’t say that Princess…” Wheein frowned as she guided you both to your seats, “You weren’t in your right mind last night and I’m sure the Prince would be understanding of that. And…” Wheein paused as you both sat down as she offered a small smile, “I think giving him thanks is a start to being on cordial terms. That’s what you had wanted, is it not?”

You opened your hand fan, trying to ignore the boiling sun that was slowly rising into the sky and soon shade would be in place. But it was so hot and your stomach felt so gross....You could hardly focus on her words as you sighed weakly, “Well yes but…I don’t know if he’d even want my thanks.”

Wheein giggled at this, “True he might not, but the Prince always takes longer to process his emotions. Give it a day and he’ll appreciate it later.”

You both watched as they put up the board of names and announced this days match as you began to think before asking, “...Wheein...what…” You sighed as Wheein peered at you curiously, “I don’t understand how the Prince works...It seems...no matter what I do, he’ll find something to hate.”

Wheein offered a smile of sympathy, “...Well...he’s a complicated one...and he may very well find a way to criticize you at first, however...more than anything, the Prince values effort above all else. Believe me when I say it m’lady, if you continue to try and be cordial and integrate into Penumbra, he will eventually recognize your efforts. Just give it time.”

You could only hope she was true.

Today's tournament was just as anxious as the last for you, only this time the smaller man from the first round appeared more aggressive, he was lashing out on the offensive and consistently dodging potential death blows as you felt yourself leer in your seat as he didn’t hesitate in taking off the arm of his opponent.

As if your hangover wasn’t enough, watching blood spill and curdling screams ring out was not a good way to start your morning. Your stomach was feeling gross again despite knowing you had nothing left to throw up and not only that but you would keep to yourself for the next month if Penumbra’s Crowned Princess was seen by nearly two hundred people throwing up behind the stands.

“Oh this makes me sick.” Wheein admitted as she looked away, rubbing her head, obviously not feeling her best either as she winced a little.

Men hurriedly came and picked him up before carrying him away as his screams still agonizingly echoed. You had been expecting the same as what had happened yesterday except only today had been much more violent and Wheein had no explanations other than some years it just turned out like this.

Men were either losing limbs or their lives today and the Ring’s ground was painted a deep maroon as metal clashed and men battled to their wits end, you had ended up looking away most of the time for the sake of your stomach though you desperately tried to engage as much as your body would let you.

If there was one thing you noticed however it was that this day was going by much quicker than the last, matches were shorter and bloodier but by mid day the finals were ahead. And of course they saved the best for last.

By the time your husband had come to the Ring the crowd was roaring and ready for his return to end the day and honestly, for the first time, you were also relieved to see your husband, you weren’t sure how much more you could bear the heat and the blood.

Despite blood coating the ground he didn’t seem unsettled by it and maybe that’s why the crowd loved their wicked prince so much as he grinned, waving towards them with that charisma you never saw inside the castle walls, his opponent...You shivered at the sight of the viscous man. He was familiar in the sickening way that he was the knight from Rosewood, the same one who had very inappropriately tried to bed you last night. Just the sight of him made you stir a little uncomfortably, his smile cocky and confident and you knew he meant blood.

They bowed to one another before their fight began, Jungkook was just as graceful as he was yesterday, sharp yet poised as he dodged the man’s blows who seemed to be becoming frustrated at his lack of progress.

Finding an opening the man kicked the inner part of Jungkook’s knee causing him to wince, falling down, the crowd gasped just as you did, leering forward in your seat as a lump in your throat formed.

And that’s when it happened, the man turned to look at you before sending a wink your way as you immediately leaned back, trying to process what you had just witnessed. He lifted his sword up intending to plunge it only for Jungkook to roll over, narrowly missing the blow as he quickly pulled himself up, helmet fallen off showing the sweat on his brow and hair pressed against his forehead.

What you didn’t expect was his hardened gaze move from his opponent to you, lips parting for a moment before he stumbled to defend from the aggressive blow of the man. You never thought you’d find yourself rooting for Jungkook, but you didn’t want to see him die.

You had expected Jungkook’s stamina to begin to run low as he continuously was put on the defense but oddly enough Jungkook only seemed to improve as the fight went on, his attacks becoming more powerful and well placed before eventually his opponent made a mistake leaving him open as Jungkook knocked the sword from his hand, pressing the blade to his throat as he stared at him coldly.

The crowd was going wild and you breathed in relief as your shoulders relaxed. You hadn’t even realized how tense you were until the match had been called and they announced Jungkook as the winner, the crowd roared and cheered at their Prince winning yet another year.

Jungkook didn’t lower his sword immediately as the crowd roared their cry of love for him, his gaze only grew colder and for a moment you wondered if he was going to kill the man who only lifted his chin in sneer of him.

Jungkook reluctantly lowered his sword however, choosing to spare the man before turning to face the audience with a bright smile, bowing his head before walking past the man who roughly hit his shoulder with his.

“...What was all of that about?” You leaned over to Wheein as you asked, watching the man stock away with a brooding energy.

“The Knight? Well…” Wheein looked away from you briefly before she relented, “He’s from the Rosewood clan, they have their own personal knighthood that are sworn to protect the Queen’s bloodline. But ever since her death they were cut off from the court. There’s rumors of them wanting to take over the throne. They’re very big rivals of the Jeon’s.”

You could certainly tell, you only nodded briefly before looking out over to where Jungkook continued to wave and smile before he had departed to his tent. Standing up with Wheein you sighed in relief that this day was officially over, your only regret being you wished you would've enjoyed it more had you not drank so much yesterday.

You weren’t even sure what possessed you to do it in the first place, you would have never been caught dead in a tavern in Eunoia, let alone as drunk as a sailor. What you had noticed though, was how quiet things seemed. Nobody was whispering behind your back or looking at you as if you were a harlot.

Things seemed...a little relaxed in Penumbra when it came to proprietary and...though it had been jarring at first, you were beginning to admittedly appreciate it.

“Well m’lady….” Wheein peered at you somewhat mischievous as she smiled, “You’re going to give a good word to the Prince, right?”

You had to give Wheein a double take as your lips parted and then closed a few times, your mouth becoming try as you sighed...A part of you wishing to just be taken back to the castle to rest but...you had this waning sense of duty in your veins that you absolutely did not like having plague you.

Yet you only found yourself nodding as you felt nervousness spike inside you. Wheein gave a bright smile as she clapped her hands together, “Very well! I’ll go get us some drinks then meanwhile. And remember Princess! You don’t have to stay for very long, just thank him and be on your way, you can do this!”

You nodded a little, giving a weak smile to Wheein as she encouraged you on with another giddy grin as she slipped into the crowd. Wringing your hands you began to weave through all the tents that had been pitched before you stopped at a familiar one. Taking a moment to breathe deep. You could hear laughter coming from the tent but you tried to not let it deter you.

Dammit! You had insulted this man more times then you could count but going in just to be kind was where your mind wanted to draw the line? You hung your head in shame as you sighed, pressing your hands against your face.

Your mother would be so ashamed of you right now…

Just the idea of her figure crossing her arms and curving a brow had you immediately straightening your posture. Fixing your dress a little as you held your head high. You couldn’t disappoint her. Anyone but her, your mother was the leading figure of your life, you had always aspired to be as patient yet wise as she was. And not only was your mother gentle and kind, but she could also be firm and stern when she needed to, she never held back discipline from you when you were younger.

And perhaps that was why you were as headstrong as you were today, regardless, you could do this. If for anybody, for her. You could just imagine that proud look on her face.

You pushed the flap of the tent open but what laid inside had you immediately flustered. Your husband shirtless as he handed his chain mail over to his servant Taehyun, it wasn’t him that had you flustered though.

His uncle Jeong Dae was with him sharing a laugh together and not only him but....Her. SeoHyun, if you were correct. The woman who glared fire at you anytime your gaze met hers. She was way too close to him for it to just be a friendly gesture and you knew this because her hands were all over his bicep.

Yet that wasn’t what you were focused on, the gaze of both Jeon men had made you freeze, whatever dignity you had gathered outside the tent immediately melting away as you coughed, “Um…! I-I’m sorry you look busy...I-...I can leave.”

Coward! You were a total coward!

Your mind wouldn’t stop screaming at you but having four people stare at you really made you feel self conscious, Jeong Dae only sneered out a laugh, his smile anything but friendly as he spoke, “That would be for the best.”

“Leave us.”

Everyone paused at Jungkook’s words, though quiet they cut through the air as silence ensued for a brief moment, a white shirt in hand as he looked between the three.

SeoHyun’s lips parted briefly and they cut between him and you before she laughed a little, “You can’t be serious...Jungkook!”

His eyes snapped to hers as he spoke, his expression the same yet his voice dropped a note, “Need I repeat myself?” It was silent once more and you could easily spot the ruffled expressions Jeong Dae and SeoHyun exchanged but nonetheless he bowed and she gave a small curtsey before exiting along with Taehyun his servant.

It was now just you and him and you felt like cotton was in your throat at how dry it was and your eyes refused to meet his, looking at everything except his face as he pulled the shirt over his head, “Well?” He spoke, “Did you make me dismiss everyone to stand and gawk?”

Irritating as ever. Your lips twitched a little and you for a brief moment wanted to look at him and stubbornly say yes. However grace must have been with you that day as you calmed your thoughts, finally breathing out as you tugged on the sleeve of your dress.

“No I…” Your eyes finally drew to look at him, he stood before you with a semi bored expression on his face, “I...wanted to thank you for last night, I know...I must have said embarrassingly foolish things to you...I had an idea of how you viewed me for a long while but...I can’t imagine how you view me now. It was not only inappropriate but irresponsible of me to drink outside the castle, let alone with my maid. But...still, you didn’t have to do what you did last night and…”

You tucked your tongue into your cheek as you laughed somewhat mirthlessly, “I know I must come across arrogant and uptight and all those other words you use to describe me but I am trying.” You looked at him earnestly, “What I said when we first got married was hurtful and ignorant, and I can’t take back those words. But nonetheless I am trying to understand your nation, your culture…”

Your nose wrinkled a little as your eyes squinted, “And I guess that means I’m trying to understand you as well. Don’t mistake my words,” You nodded once more as you looked up at him, “I don’t expect us to be friends, and I certainly don’t expect anything from you. But...I suppose, we got off on the wrong foot, and...I just wanted to apologize for that. I’ll... leave you to finish cleaning up.” You nodded.

Truthfully, you were too big of a coward to hear any of Jungkook’s responses to your words, but funny enough Jungkook only nodded once before turning away, his expression looked no different but it was the way he moved.

As if, he was in deep thought as you exited the tent.

You weren’t sure where this would take your relationship with the man but you spoke from the heart about how you felt and it was true, you had no expectations from him, but if anything, you wanted him to know that you were trying your best, and that you were no longer going to say anything hurtful to his way of life.

You spotted Wheein in the distance as she waved a hand to you, two drinks in her hand as you offered a weak smile, walking towards her. You were honestly happy with the result, you’d rather he stayed quiet than tell you how he felt, truthfully because you weren’t ready to know his thoughts.

But maybe in due time.

You had thought you were out of the water when it came to socialization today however when you made it back to the castle you had been sorely mistaken. A servant had notified you that a banquet was being thrown tonight in honor of Jungkook winning the tournament and you were expected to attend.

And so here you were, the deep emerald dress clung to your body a bit tighter than you felt necessary and you briefly wondered who was in charge of your wardrobe. Your shoulders exposed in the cut out half sleeves that drape to your elbows and your hair done to match.

Everyone was making merry and having a good time, and it wasn’t that you weren’t, but you had been reserved at best. Your wine having not been touched the whole night as anytime you even tried to take a sip it only reminded you of yesterday evening.

You tried your best to not stare at the center of the banquet which was of course your husband. He had offered a few smiles and laughs to his friends but he himself had also been reserved that night, not offering too much energy to anyone. It wasn’t as if he had been looking at you, he hadn’t.

But you couldn’t help but feel like maybe he was, when you weren’t looking. Or maybe you were going insane and just needed a good rest. You eventually got out of your seat, Wheein in the distance with the other servants looking at you in concern briefly but you only silently shook your head before you walked out onto the balcony.

The stars heavily filtered the sky and you could even see bits of the Milky Way scattered across the sky, it still amazed you to look up at each time, and even for a few seconds it made all of your problems disappear.

“Why are you out here Princess?” It was the familiar dulcet voice of Taehyung, the silver cloak covering his body but his hood had been taken down as he tilted his head a little, “The party is inside.” he nodded his head towards the wide open doors.

You offered a weak smile as you shrugged, “I’m just feeling a little tired today, that’s all…I didn’t realize the Seers were invited to banquets as such.”

“We are,” Taehyung smiled a little, “But we aren’t supposed to attend them.”

You tilted your head in curiosity, “Oh? Then may I ask why you’re here?”

Taehyung’s eyes flickered away from you back into the dining room where everyone resides, “...I wanted to see someone tonight…”

His gaze setting on Wheein didn’t surpass as your lips slowly curled into a smile as you spoke, “Oh?”

“But Master Sejin is with the king at the moment.” Taehyung spoke plainly as he looked back towards you with a sigh, and with that you nodded solemnly, no words needed to be spoken in that moment for you to understand what he meant.

Forbidden love was always painful.

“Taehyung…” You spoke softly, gaining his attention once more, “...Is romantic love not allowed with the Seers?”

You wanted to know more about the Seers and how they had found their home in the court of Penumbra, for such a peaceful kind, you felt it odd that they chose Penumbra of all kingdoms to stay.

Taehyung’s lips quirked a little as he breathed a small laugh, “...I suppose it is,” He spoke in a mild tone, “It’s said the more earthly attachments one has, the less grounded they are to planes of the astral field where we are given foresight. The head Seer won’t stop any romances from forming but the said Seer won’t be allowed on the council of foresight.”

You titled your head a little as you listened intently before you spoke, “And...are you on the council of foresight?”

Taehyung’s smile turned a little wry, “Yes...I’m still considered an underling but I hope to one day become an upper guide.”

You offered him a tender smile in return, “Well, have faith. Things can always change.” You turned back out to the night sky, pausing a little at the butterfly that had perched on the stone railing. It’s wings stretched delicately as it showed off it’s beautiful deep tones of blue that painted its wings.

And for a brief moment, you felt envious of such a tiny creature.

Pointing your finger out, you extended your reach in offer of better height and the butterfly had immediately accepted, flitting to your finger as you held it closer to the light. Though small, it had wings that could take it wherever it wanted to go. Over the hills and the gates of the city, past the Northern mountains. Far, far away.

You wished you could do the same. Taehyung must have departed, either because he sensed the conversation was over, or perhaps because his Headmaster had left the room. Regardless you would keep him in your thoughts as you stared down at the little butterfly that kept you company.

The party raged on and on in the dining room even well after your husband retired and you had chosen to gaze out over the night sky as the stars may have looked the same as the ones in Eunoia, but you had never seen such clear constellations before and the stardust that spiraled and melted so beautifully into the inky black sky.

Your little friend had eventually departed from you as well, perhaps also seeking to retire for the night. Wheein had come by awhile ago to check on you but you had only smiled and dismissed her for the night, not wanting her to wait up for you as your servant was probably tired and wanted to go to bed.

It left you alone for a few hours which you found yourself enjoying thoroughly. Away from the royals and away from all the prying eyes, you enjoyed it. It was probably closer to midnight that you finally chose to retire. Keeping close to the wall as you avoided all of the drunk thrashing and hollering from the leftover court that still kept the banquet alive.

Climbing up the many steps up the squared staircase before you paused outside the large window, looking out over the city. Perhaps, you would eventually find your way in this new land.

You could only hope as such.

The hallways and corridors were silent and for the first time you had felt at peace walking through quietly as you made your way to your bedroom. What you had not expected was the man leaned up against your doorway. You would have been, maybe a little more curious if it was your husband.

It was not.

You frowned as you stopped, the knight of Rosewood only hummed out, his eyes had been closed up until now as if he had waited a long time, “Ah there you are Princess. I was worried you had ended up drinking again.”

“...Rest assured I wasn’t.” You spoke quietly, a frown forming on your face as fuzzy memories of the previous day played through your mind, “...Is there something I can help you with…?”

He smiled a little to wide as he pressed himself off your doorway, stepping closer to you as you glanced away to the empty corridor, “It’s more what I can do to help you,” he extended a friendly hand, “I can’t help but notice, you just seem so lonely Princess.”

You stared down at his hand for a long moment before you let out a breathy laugh, “Sire...I’m unsure of what you’re suggesting, but I’m just fine on my own.” You weren’t about to extend a hand to uncertainty and though you may have come from a much softer nation, you were by no means a fool.

The knight however wasn’t taking no for an answer, even though he was all smiles and soft words, he snatched your hand from your side, giving it a small tug as you gasped out, stumbling much closer to him then you were comfortable with.

“What a little minx,” He chuckled lowly, “You know exactly what I’m insinuating. And it isn’t as if your husband would care, we can all see it in his eyes. How he wishes for your death day by day.”

You were jostled to the wall, your back planted against it firm as your body tensed at his hot breath against your face, “But if you were to side with us Rosewoods...well we’d guarantee your safety, after all you will be the next crowned Queen.”

Your words were caught in your throat and your body was twitching with his hand that had pressed against the side of your waist, how dare he…!

“What is this about my wife?”

A hand had separated you both before the knight was practically shoved away from you. When had...Your brain was scrambled and confused at the sight of Jungkook, when had he even…?

But here he was, Jungkook had stood in front of you as if a wall and though you couldn’t see his eyes you could just imagine the frosty gaze he held at the moment.

“Your Highness…” There was a sneer in the knight’s tone.

“Well?” Jungkook jabbed once more, his posture not changing as he glared down at the knight, “I’m waiting for a reason.”

The knight shifted he let out a small, strained laugh, “There seems to be a misunderstanding here Your Highness-”

“No there isn’t,” Jungkook said in a gritted tone, “It’s all too clear you were trying to feel up my wife, so let me only say this once.” Jungkook stepped closer to the knight as he backed up a little but it was too late, Jungkook’s hand was wrapped around his throat as he shoved him against the wall of the narrow hallway.

You were in too much shock other than to stare at the horrifying scene as Jungkook’s grip tightened and his voice deathly quiet, “Stay away from her.” Jungkook’s eyes were ice cold and his lips twitched a little, “I won’t hesitate to banish you from this castle Claudin. And if I catch you near my wife again, I'll slit your throat in your sleep.” Jungkook’s lips curled a little, a menacing look on his face as if he found joy in the idea.

With that he let go of the man as he straightened out, his regular cold expression melting back onto his face as he turned around to face you, your body was stiff and trying to make yourself small as possible and you hadn’t even realized you were trembling.

Jungkook sighed a little, looking away as his expression faltered a little, “Come.” It was spoken rather soft but it still held a commanding presence that immediately made your feet obey.

Jungkook placed a delicate hand on your waist as he guided you away from the hallway where the knight- Claudin was left alone and perhaps glaring daggers into the Prince’s back.

The walk back to wherever he was taking you was silent and eventually you landed in front of a solid wooden door at the end of the seventh floor’s corridor and you realized, this must have been Jungkook’s room.

He opened the door as he pushed you inside a little, your feet fumbling a little as you paused just inside stiffly. Without even realizing it tears were welling into your eyes as the door shut before your throat constricted itself.

Jungkook had walked forward, turning around as he had intended on talking to you but he paused as you harshly inhaled, a sobbing tumbling from your mouth as you covered your face. Your head spiraling between what the knight had attempted and what he had said, was it really true?

Your chest felt tight as you tried to calm yourself down but the tears kept flowing. Had you paid attention you would’ve watched the way Jungkook looked everywhere but at you, his posture awkward and he looked unsure of what to even do in the moment.

Jungkook had sat the whole day on your words and truthfully he had be going back to his own room when he had heard the hushed whispers and out of his own curiosity peaked on his way passing to the next set of stairs.

What he had saw though stopped him right in his tracks and before he could even think his anger was already seething as he went to intervene. Jungkook however wasn’t just going to leave you on your own after the interaction as he knew Claudin was determined more than anything else. Especially if he watched with his own two eyes the prince leave you alone in your bedroom.

And somehow Jungkook just decided in his head you’d stay with him for the night, but he hadn’t…he didn’t think you were that upset.

“Well don't just stand there crying…” Jungkook grumbled despite the awkward expression he sported, rubbing his neck while feeling like an elementary boy once again. He trudged to the bed as he sat down, his eyes following you as you sniffled, your feet padding against the floor softly as you walked around the bed. Pulling the soft covers over your body as sunk into the soft surface of the bed.

Laying on your back an awkward distance away from Jungkook who had also laid down you sniffled once more, “I’m sorry…”

“…why are you apologizing?”

“…I don’t know. You look uncomfortable.”

“I am. But that’s not because of you.”

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, “Well technically I suppose it is-“

“Shut up please.” You wept softly. How were you even in this man's bed right now?

“Fair, but stop sniffling, and stay on your side on the bed...Never speak of this again.” Jungkook rolled over, his back facing you as your lips pushed into a pout.

Sniffling one last time you rubbed your eyes as you rolled over to let your back face as as you pulled your covers up as you mumbled a soft, “Thank you.”

Sleep did not come easy, but you were relieved when it finally did.

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dhaaruni · 3 years ago

Note

could you rec some enemies to lovers historical romances you like? and some enemies with benefits recs would be lovely too

YES. And, sorry in advance that I keep recommending the same ones over and over lol.

Historical:

Eleven Scandals to Start to Win a Duke's Heart by Sarah MacLean: this book makes me Jenny Slate NASA Scream every single time, which is why you all have to read it. The Rogue Not Taken by MacLean is also an enemies-to-lovers and was the first MacLean I read actually but I think Eleven Scandals is just unparalleled to me although Day of the Duchess is a very close second because Malcolm, the Duke of Haven is peak himbo status and I support it!!

It Happened One Autumn by Lisa Kleypas: Listen, I'm the #1 Devil in Winter stan (and I also know that whenever anybody actually reads it, I'm going to be irrevocably canceled for simping for Sebastian St. Vincent) but this one is the only true "enemies-to-lovers" Wallflowers novel, so I'm including it here. I'm a fan of it although I know some people don't like that Lillian is drunk the first time her and Marcus have sex but YMMV.

The Rake by Suzanne Enoch: SUCH fun like years prior to this book, the heroine basically fucks the hero and takes his sock as a trophy and the whole novel is about them finding their way back to each other

Private Arrangements by Sherry Thomas: dude..... this book is so good. I don't even know how to explain it but it really, really is. Also, Thomas has Lady Sherlock book coming out which is a bonafide thriller so even if you're not into romance, I'd check it out because Thomas is an excellent writer.

A Rogue of One's Own by Evie Dunmore: another true Jenny Slate NASA Scream like I cried so much when reading this book and in the best way possible.

A Week to be Wicked by Tessa Dare: the Spindle Cove books are hit or miss for me since I couldn't get into #1 and #3 but this one and Any Duchess Will Do both really made me laugh and cry so I'd check both of those out.

Contemporary:

The Risk by Elle Kennedy: such a fun book like the Off-Campus and Briar U books are all way above average for new adult books since they actually are readable and not majorly cringey, but I'd say this one stands out because of how awesome Brenna is and how much Jake just supports her in being awesome. Also, as a bonus, this book is super feminist without spelling it out for the reader (let's just say the narrative is very pro-abortion) and I really liked that.

The Trouble With Love by Lauren Layne: the main couple in this book are such a prickly pair who just so happen to be perfect for each other and I support it!! I'm also a big fan of Hard Sell by Layne, which is interesting because I didn't care for the rest of the 21 Wall Street trio.

Happily Ever After by Nora Roberts: The Bride Quartet is like frothy and sweet but also, Malcolm and Parker in this book like oh my GOD. Just a couple that really stays with you and I haven't read this book in over a decade so you know I'm not lying here.

Down With Love by Kate Meader: I LOVE lawyer romances and this one is infinitely better than the rest of them

Summer Skin by Kathy Eagar: I haven't read this in years but I remember just being in awe at how .... sexy it was and I don't just mean in that it had sex in it because all these books do. This book is about a modern day punk rock gal who falls for this alpha jock and it works so well.

Dating You/Hating You by Christina Lauren: one of the few "popular" enemies-to-lovers I actually genuinely liked, The Hating Game by Sally Thorne for one just was so mediocre in comparison

The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas: I'm a sucker for fake dating so of course I loved this one, and it's actually much better than the animated cover would have you believe lol.

Body Check by Deirdre Martin: this book is from 2003 so parts of it are slightly dated but it's good enough to make up for that, or I wouldn't recommend it. And, it doesn't pull the whole "actually liberal women are the REAL problem and they need to be taken in hand by solid Republican men" schtick the 2021 enemies-to-lovers book Meet You In the Middle that takes place in Washington D.C. does. I love politics, I love romance novels, and I love enemies-to-lovers, but that book was the worst possible combination of the things I love and it was awful!!

Hopefully that helps you out!!

#answered #anonymous #book blogging #book recs #romance novels

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amiwritesthings · 3 years ago

Note

young dean hooking up with older men at truck stops. when john witnesses one of these encounters, he's furious, wants to step in, but doesn't, can't, d. on his knees with a cock in his mouth too much of a turn on, so he just watches in secret, maybe even jerks off to it. feelings of guilt. eventually confronts d. about his hook-ups. anger, drama, angst. d.: it's you, i just want you, i'm thinking about you when they fuck me, please let me suck your cock, dad. what will j. do? you tell me.

i am so so so sorry this took me so long and technically this isn't exactly what you asked for but it's where my brain wanted to go today so hopefully you still like it

link to ao3

_______

It’s dark when Dean walks back the short distance from the truck stop to the adjacent motel. He pulls his jacket tighter around his body against the cold, prays that John is still out somewhere drowning in cheap whiskey.

His jaw aches, his knees are sore, there’s a wet patch in his jeans, but there’s also 50 bucks in his pocket and his mind is pleasantly fuzzy with post-orgasmic endorphins.

He slides the key into the lock as quietly as he can, eases the door open carefully to keep the salt line intact. He feels his heart skip, pure rush of adrenaline, when he sees it’s not just Sammy in the room; John’s passed out in the ratty loveseat in the sitting area. It’s the next best thing to John not being here at all. If Dean’s lucky, John was too out of it to remember Dean not being here when he got back.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, takes a second to make sure the salt line is indeed intact. Sammy snuffles softly in his sleep, turns over to his other side, and Dean shrugs out of his jacket, lays it down at the foot of his bed, before tip toeing to the bathroom, thankful for the small window, the moonlight from outside illuminating the room just enough that he doesn’t need to hit the light.

He leans on the sink, doesn’t dare to look at his own reflection in the tiny mirror that’s already gone half blind. He reaches for the mouthwash, takes a swig, lets the liquid sting his mouth and get rid off the taste of dick. He spits into the sink, blue remnants of mouthwash running into the cracks in the porcelain, rinses with water and spits again.

He freezes when there’s a rustling sound behind him, and he knows it’s John, just from the prickle of heat where John’s gaze rests heavily on the back of his neck. Fuck. Dean forces himself to look up into the mirror, to acknowledge his father’s presence. A cloud passes over the moon outside, making the room darker for a moment, casting John’s face in shadows.

John takes a step forward, eerily silent, and with how small the room is, it only takes another half-step for John to be close enough to him that his body tenses with awareness. There’s a moment of silence, unbearable seconds of uncertainty, and Dean averts his eyes, lets his head drop forward, hands bracing against the sink.

A soft puff of air against the back of his neck, warm whiskey breath, is his only warning before John’s hands come down next to his on the sink, his father’s body hot and looming behind him. ‘What’re you playing at, boy?’ John asks gruffly, voice low and dangerously quiet, and Dean swallows against the dryness in his throat, that raw sting just behind his tongue.

‘Sir?’ he asks, voice raspy and wrecked. Best to let John tell him which transgression he’s angry about before Dean accidentally adds more fuel to the fire.

‘Saw you. Out there, on your knees.’

Fuck. Dean feels like is heart is about to beat out of his chest, pulse echoing loudly in his own ears. ‘I can expl-‘, he starts but stops the moment he sees John’s hand moving, body bracing for the inevitable blow.

It never comes.

John runs a hand up Dean’s arm, a barely-there touch, hovering just close enough to give the illusion of contact while still keeping Dean acutely aware of the underlying threat. He shivers when the hand comes back down to cage him in and John leans in closer, stubble brushing his cheek, the ghost sensation of lips right up against the shell of his ear.

‘God, boy, looked so good,' John breathes, words just the tiniest bit slurred, tongue heavy with whiskey. ‘Wanted to kill that asshole for taking advantage of you like that. Old enough to be your father, that guy.’ There’s a trace of anger to the words, that sharp edge that usually has Dean bracing for a verbal lashing.

Dean exhales shakily, dares to press back just a bit into the weight of John’s body behind him. Whatever he had expected to happen if John ever found out sure wasn’t this. ‘Why didn't you?’ he asks quietly, and John drops his head forward with a sigh that fans hotly over Dean’s skin.

‘Too pretty, your lips stretched wide like that. Fuckin’ hot. Could just imagine-,' he trails off, pushes his hips forward into Dean instead, and oh. For the first time tonight, Dean wishes John was less drunk, that there was a chance this was real and not just some drunken mistake John would pretend had never happened the next morning, if he even remembered.

‘Wished it was you,’ he confesses, quietly, and behind him John draws in a sharp breath that shudders out of him in a tortured groan only a few seconds later. ‘Always wish it was you.’

At his sides, John’s knuckles go white against the sink, fingers flexing once, twice, before resettling on the cold porcelain. ‘Don’t say shit like that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ There’s no heat to the words, no reprimand, and Dean presses back, into John’s body, until they are flush, until he can feel the bulge in John’s jeans riding high against his ass, John’s lips dragging messily, uncoordinated, down his cheek.

‘’s all I think about. ‘s why I started doing it in the first place.’ It’s not entirely true but Dean sure as shit isn’t going to fess up about needing the money to buy food for him and Sammy when John had been gone way longer than planned a couple of years ago.

Dean tilts his head to the side when John mouths down his neck, on purpose this time, wet-hot, tongue teasing against the sensitive skin. ‘Always pretend it’s you,’ he continues, moves his hand to cover John’s, drags it to the front of his jeans where there’s still a wet spot from when he’d come in his pants earlier while sucking off some faceless stranger.

John growls, a sound that’s rumbling up from so deep in his chest, Dean can feel the vibration of it against his back. ‘Gonna let me have the real thing?’ Dean asks as he uses what little space he has to turn, face John, and he isn’t prepared for the look of sheer hunger in John’s eyes, pupils blown wide in the darkness of the room.

He drops his hands to John’s belt, fingers the buckle, waits for John to stop him, but he doesn’t. His voice is raw, low and raspy when he says, ‘Goddammit, baby, gonna be the death of me,’ and Dean can feel the flush spreading up his chest, crawling up his neck, making his cheeks pink. He deftly undoes the belt, thumbs open the button, draws the zipper down, watches as John’s eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a soft pant. It’s even better than he could ever imagine.

He tugs, fingers on each side, shimmies the jeans off John’s hips, takes the boxers underneath right with it as he drops to his knees, one fluid motion, perfected with years of practice. It stings a bit, his knees still sore from kneeling in gravel earlier but he breathes through it, focuses on what’s right in front of him. And boy, when he wraps his hand around John’s dick, his mouth fucking waters. He knows that John is big, they’ve been living in each other’s pockets all of Dean’s life, he knows, but from down here, on his knees, even only half-hard, it’s impressive and his jaw already aches with the anticipation of what’s to come.

Above him, John white-knuckles the sink with one hand, the other dropping to cup Dean’s jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone and down to drag over his lower lip, dark eyes watching his face intently. Dean tongues at the digit, just a tease, hand softly squeezing on John’s dick, a slow stroke up to the crown, and John breathes a soft ‘fuck’ as he closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering darkly in the shadows.

The hand leaves and John takes a half-step forward, trapping Dean between his body and the sink as he braces against the wall, the mirror, and Dean takes it as the invitation it is, opens his mouth wide to take John in. He closes his lips around the head, takes it flat onto his tongue and Dean can’t stop the groan at the feeling of John’s dick finally in his mouth, at the salty-sour taste.

This is nothing like all those strangers, he thinks, this is what he’s been waiting for all along. John keeps chubbing up in his mouth and it stretches his lips, wide. He sinks down a little deeper, gets John wet, then pulls off to slick his spit down the length with his fingers. John’s breathing is heavy above him, body tense, curled tight, like he’s preparing for a fight.

Dean strokes him, once, twice, before licking around the head, wicked curl of tongue, and taking him back in, spit slicking the way as John pushes deeper with a slight flex of his hips, rubbing over the soft palate of Dean’s mouth. And fuck, Dean wishes his throat wasn’t so raw already, the drag of John’s dick almost too much when he takes a deep breath through his noses and pushes down further.

John’s hips stutter forward at the sensation and Dean pulls away with a choked cough, tries to catch his breath, as John mutters softly ‘sorry, baby, sorry’ but then his hips hitch forward again, into the loose fist Dean has curled around him. He keeps his fingers around the base this time as he sinks down, relaxes his jaw, to let John fuck into him with impatient little thrusts.

The noise his wet mouth makes is obscene in the quiet of the small room and he drops his free hand into his lap to where he’s already hard again in his jeans. He gives himself a squeeze, hums softly at the spark of pleasure, and John’s breath hitches as he flexes forward, pushing right at Dean’s throat again. Dean lets him this time, gets his own dick free, still sticky from before, and jacks himself in sync with John’s movements.

John curses under his breath, dick jumping in Dean’s mouth, and Dean redoubles his efforts, slides his mouth, wet and open, down as far as he can go, focusing on breathing through his nose. John stills on his next downstroke and the first pulse of come on his tongue almost makes Dean choke.

He pulls back, mouth open, John’s dick on his tongue, jacking him through his orgasm and he holds it there for a moment before swallowing, the hand stripping his own dick almost a blur. He hunches forward, rests his forehead against John’s hip, nuzzling at the juncture of his thigh, as he chases his own high.

When he finally comes, it’s with a high, breathy whine and a ‘fuckin’ Christ, Dean’ from John who cradles his skull, holding him close.

It takes a moment for his breathing to slow, for his heart to stop racing and when he finally pulls away, John takes a step back, the look in his eyes unreadable as he looks down to Dean. The hand slides around to cup his face, and the thumb traces his lip again, slowly, reverently, before John releases him with a pat to his cheek.

‘Get cleaned up, it’s late,’ he says, voice rough, before he steps back, away, swaying gently, leaving Dean on his knees and suddenly feeling cold.

By the time he’s cleaned up and dressed in a sleep shirt and fresh underwear, John is passed out on the bed, jeans still undone, snoring the way he only ever does when he drinks. Dean grabs a bottle of water, takes little sips – it burns to swallow – before sitting down on the edge of the other bed. He nudges Sam, all long lanky limbs sprawled out, taking up all the space, and his brother huffs in his sleep but shifts over anyway, making just enough room for him to slip into the bed beside him.

When Dean wakes the next morning, it’s to Sam already bitching about something or other and John at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, brows furrowed as he tries to make sense of something. The last night feels like a fever dream now and as Dean sits up on the bed, he tries to make eye contact with John, get some kind of acknowledgement, but he has no such luck. John pointedly avoids looking at him, busying himself with squinting at the newspaper with bleary eyes as he takes another sip of coffee.

‘You want coffee?’

Dean blinks at the question, at Sam who’s holding up an empty cup at him in question. ‘Yeah,’ he croaks, voice breaking on the just the one syllable and across the room he can see John stiffen in his seat, while Sam just looks at him funny. ‘You coming down with something?’

Dean clears his throat, tries to ignore the burn as he swallows. ‘Nah, I’m fine.’ He doesn’t sound much better, voice still all scratchy and raw, and his jaw still aches dully, and his knees protest when he pushes to stand. He excuses himself to the bathroom, taking the coffee cup Sam hands him with him. He sets the cup down on the sink, lets his eyes come up to look at his reflection in the mirror.

And there it is, the proof it was real, the smeared handprint on the mirror. Dean touches a finger to it before bringing his hand to his throat, feeling the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, chasing the sense memory of the night before.

#prompt ask #ami answers #ami writes #deanjohn #daddycest #johndean #i did a thing

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colorfullfalls · 4 years ago

Text

Me & You

Summary: Calum’s best friend internally pinned after him for years. At a party she finds out that Calum is seeing someone and her heart breaks. Except Harry Styles is there to make her feel better.

Calum and Y/N. A phrase heard so much to the people that knew them. Growing up as neighbors, they were the definition of a team. Y/N was the one who taught Calum how to whistle, he taught her how to ride a bike. Childhood memories engraved in their minds bonded the two together like magnets.

Calum took Y/N with them when they left as a band. She had a rough life at home and he wanted her out of there. Since then the Hood’s and the band became her family.

“Y/N, what are you doing? That is not how to hang up a balloon.” Calum laughed out, pointing to the balloon that was only half taped on.

She blew hair out of her face, her hands falling to rest on her waist. She gave him an exasperated look, “How else do you suppose to do it, Hood? You can’t put a tack in it, it’ll pop!”

Calum playfully pushed her out of the way and tacked the part that was tied off to keep the air from zooming out. He successfully completed the task and gave her a smug grin.

“It’s almost like it worked...”

She shoved his shoulder as she walked past him to stir the Buffalo dip in the crock pot, “Fuck off mate, I really tried my best.”

Calum paused at her words. He knew she was joking and her tone matched, but he did feel sort of bad. When he called her to ask about throwing a surprise party for Ashton’s birthday, she immediately was on board. She bought decorations, the cake, and helped him invite everyone. She really was trying her best.

“You are the most wonderful friend I’ll ever have.” He softly said, turning her to bop her nose before giving her a hug.

Her insides fluttered at the way his voice sounded so honest. She already loved him with all of heart and him saying shit like that didn’t help it. Because she over thought things- well everything. Especially when it came to them and their friendship.

All the other boys in the band had serious girlfriends that they were building their life with. Sure, Cal had girlfriends along the way- much to her dismay, but he wasn’t seeing anyone and hadn’t in about two years or so. Maybe he was holding out for her? She knew it was a outlandish idea but was it really? They grew up together, did everything together, and she developed feelings so was it too wild if he did too?

She relished the feeling of his arms wrapped around her. He smelled so nice all of the time and the scent was uniquely just him. Her trust in people was hesitant due to her parents but Calum was the one true person who she was completely vulnerable to. The boys were close but not to the level of trust she gave to the man in front of her.

He pulled away when he heard the bell ring, “People are arriving, my lovely Y/N. Shall we go greet them?” Calum mocked in a posh accent.

An hour later everyone was finally at the party, well besides Ashton. Y/N saw that Harry Styles was there and she offered him a smile as he walked up next to her. He gave her a warm hug, his hands resting comfortably against her back. His warm skin burned through her shirt and she mentally sighed when he pulled away.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen eachotha love.” He said, offering his boyish grin that killed his fans.

Her and Harry hung out during the tour when 5sos joined them. While the boys were playing on stage, he would stand and watch with her. During that tour they became pretty good friends, and he did his best to keep up with her. Only a few noticed, but Harry always kept his eye out for her, but it was hard to get her without Calum.

“Last I saw you, you were just about to release Fine Line.” She spoke.

“I remember, ran into you while walking home. Have you listened to any of it?” He asked almost sheepishly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Y/N now just noticed how nicely dressed he was. His black flowy pants went well his nice long sleeve butto up baby blue shirt. The first couple buttons were undone to reveal his beautiful chest. She felt her eyes drift, but quickly looked up at his green eyes.

She wasn’t stupid, Harry was absolutely beautiful. His beauty radiated and his personality amplified that by one thousand. He was mature, deep, and kind but also had a playful boyish side. And sass, lots of sass added to it. He made sure to check up on her weekly and she knew that he would help her with anything she asked.

She’d fall for him if it wasn’t for Calum.

“Harry, who hasn’t heard that whole album in it’s entirety? It’s amazing, man! Cherry melted me in the best way. Putting Camille’s voice in it? Genius. You put your heart into your music and it really shows...” you blushed slightly as you realized that you just gushed over him.

He shrugged his shoulders at your praise in the humble way that only Harry Styles could. His green eyes twinkled in the light at the idea of Y/N adoring his album. Songs that were a part of him.

He wanted to admit that Sunflower, Vol 6. and Golden were about her. That she inspired him to form lyrics that made people feel the same love he felt. She was his muse and she didn’t even know it. Harry wanted to tell her, but he wasn’t blind. Something was between her and Calum.

He respected Calum and didn’t want to interfere, but it was hard when his feelings never went away. And not there she stood so pretty in front of him, telling her that she listened to his music. That she loved Cherry. It was ironic that she mentioned the one about his ex but not the the two written solely about his thoughts surrounding her.

“Means so much to me that you enjoy it. I was actually wondering if you wanted to co-write a song with me for my next album?” He said, his left hand playing with the rings on his right.

Her lips quirked into a pure smile, “Me? Harry..”

“Don’t be bashful, I know you help write with the boys, even if you don’t let the public know.. Ash told me about it when we got drunk a year ago.” He admitted.

She scoffed, “I’m gonna hurt him....”

“So, what do you say? It can literally be about anything. It’ll be perfect. I’ll even buy you dinner over it.”

She paused before replying. Helping Harry with a song sounded fun and like a good opportunity to actually work with other artists, but it was a vulnerable thing. Sure, the two have had deep talks while high or drunk, but this would be a whole different thing. The last song she had worked on was Best Years and she thought of Calum the whole time writing it. That’s why it was so easily to spill out because he was across from her the whole time.

“If I write a song with you, do you promise to make sure I don’t get too drunk tonight? Because I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow and doing that hungover would just suck...” she said, making Harry clap in excitement.

“We have a deal, love.”

He extended his hand and they shook on it.

Y/N glanced over to where Calum was when she saw an unfamiliar woman standing beside him. She didn’t recognize her and honestly she was confused. Calum always told her when he met someone and he never told Y/N about her.

Harry followed her gaze and noticed the woman too, “Who’s that?”

Y/N crossed her arms, “No freaking clue...”

Calum caught their eyes and waved before grabbing her hand and brining her to them. Y/N’s eyes widened at their intertwined fingers, emotional pain twisting around her guts.

“Hey guys, this is my girlfriend, Maya.”He said, raising their joint hands as they both smiled from ear to ear. Y/N wanted to puke.

Maya was wicked beautiful. Her short baby blue hair matched Harry’s button up shirt. The color suddenly seemed unappealing to Y/N. Not only was Maya’s hair cool, but she had a dope septum piercing and had piercings and tattoos. Her beautiful hazel eyes smiled with genuine kindness and Y/N wanted to run away.

Calum was dating someone, but it wasn’t her. Y/N scolded herself for not preparing herself for this exact situation. Calum Hood was a beautiful man with a beautiful heart and wicked talent, of course he would find someone. She had just been dumb enough believe it would’ve been her.

Calum sensed Y/N’s unease and he suddenly felt bad for not giving her a heads up. He started seeing Maya two months ago and wanted to make sure it was solid before he had her meet the people so dear to him. He realized that was a mistake.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Harry stated what Y/N wanted to but couldn’t.

Calum sheepishly shrugged as he looked at the hurt on his best friend’s face, “Sometimes things are better kept a secret.”

Anger swirled around Y/N like quicksand encapsulating her entire body. She wanted to punch him. Couldn’t he see the pain in her eyes and he had to joke about it and say something stupid like that? How could he be so daft about how she felt for him? He was her world.

She loved him with all of her being; however, at this moment she wanted to never see him again. She wasn’t the best at handling her emotions, so this pain transferred to anger.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Sometimes friendships aren’t what you think they are. It was nice meeting you, Maya. Come on, Harry.”

She grabbed Harry’s hand and stalked off to the balcony of the house. The British lad followed silently behind her, willing to do anything she needed. As selfish as it was, he was glad to be the one she seemed comfort from.

Crocodile tears slipped out of her eyes as she wiped at them in an embarrassed and frustrated manor. She looked out at the hills of California and grumbled under her breath about love being dumb. Harry quietly shut the sliding glass door and walked over to lean on the railing beside her.

“You’re in love with him.” He softly stated.

She let out a pitiful laugh, “That obvious?”

He didn’t reply for a moment. Instead he took the time to observe her, and his heart stung at the sight in front of him. Her eyes were no longer the vast universe before him that made him believe that life was eternal, instead they were a sunken wasteland filled with sorrow.

Her knuckles were white from how hard she was making fists and her leg was bouncing up and down with anxiety. Harry recalled the one other time he saw her like this. It was when they got a late dinner together and her mom somehow called her.

He hated seeing her upset then and he hates it even more now.

“If you don’t show that you care about someone, you’re not human. Calum is your best friend that has been by your side, it’s natural to catch feelings. And you shouldn’t feel ashamed about it either, hun. Your feelings are valid, it’s understandable to be crushed right now.” His hands gently took hers and flattened them out so that hers would no longer be in fists.

“I’m in love with him.” She choked out, turning to maneuver herself into his embrace. His strong arms wrapped around her back and she clutched tightly to his shirt. She felt the skin of his chest against her cheek as she nuzzled into him.

Sobs shook her body as his left hand rose to lovingly play with her hair. Y/N was glad that Harry was there for her in this time. She knew she couldn’t go to one of the boys because it wasn’t fair to put them in the middle of this.

“I know, I know.” He muttered, glancing inside the house to see that Calum was standing with Luke and Michael. The three boys were starting back at him, all of their faces held regret.

“I-I thought that maybe he loved me too. Every song we wrote, I thought of him. His little gifts and sudden spurs of adventure he whisked me away on, I thought that it was special between us..”

Harry’s heart felt like it got punched. The girl he was head over heels was currently heart broken over his friend. He wanted to tell Calum off for missing out on what he absolutely wished he could have. Calum had his dream girl wrapped around his finger and the dude didn’t even know it.

Harry himself was surprised that Calum wasn’t in love with her too. She was just.. the best. She was adaptive to their life style, good with the fame aspect of their life, she was nerdy in the best ways, so humble and grateful that it was intoxicating to be around her, and she was so genuine. Calum was a fool to not see what was right in front of him. Blind not to see that such a wonderful human being loved him with every fucking inch of her soul.

He saw Calum move towards the door and Harry felt an instinct to get Y/N the hell away from him. He didn’t want her to have to see him and he knew that he couldn’t even look Calum in the eyes without feeling anger even if it wasn’t exactly fair.

Calum hesitated when he saw the death glare that Harry was unknowingly giving him.

Calum knew that Harry was smitten with his best friend. It was apparent that Harry always went out of his way to call her or get drinks when he was home. Hell, Harry had sent her a gift when he went to Japan because he knew it was her favorite place when she went with the band. It was zero surprise that he would feel protective over a crying Y/N.

Calum just wanted to talk to her.

Luke and Michael walked over with somber eyes as they noticed that this situation would not be dealt with tonight.

“Calum, don’t go out there. She’s hurt, man. Give her some time.” Luke gently warned, grabbing his arm.

“I feel so bad. I know she’s hurt but I didn’t think she would be this hurt from me not telling her that I met Maya. I thought maybe she would be a bit happy for me..” he trailed off at Luke’s facial expression.

“She’s fucking in love with you, mate. Why are you the only one who doesn’t see that?” Luke raised his hands in an exasperated manner.

“What?! No? Y/N? She’s not in love with me. It’s not like that.” Calum defended, glancing over at his best friend in the world sobbing in Harry’s arms.

“Seriously Cal?” Michael deadpanned, “You can’t be that stupid.”

Calum rolled his eyes, “Wouldn’t I fucking know if my best friend was in love with me?”

Michael laughed sarcastically as Luke awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets. Calum sighed at their behavior.

“Apparently not mate. You know how it’s obvious to us that Harry fancies Y/N? Well we could tell when it came to her with you.” Michael explained.

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t I tell?” Calum asked.

Luke blew air out of his mouth as he tried to think of how to explain it, “Cal, it wasn’t for us to say. God, you and Y/N pick the worst times to be in love with each other.”

Calum’s tongue poked out to wet his lips. He was annoyed that Luke even brought that up. Growing up Calum was enamored by his beautiful Y/N and he knew that he was in love with her when he was about sixteen years old. She was so supportive and always there, and she made the rough times optimistic and fun.

Unluckily for him, at the time he realized they were on tour with one direction and she went off with Harry a lot. Calum felt like he couldn’t compete so he didn’t say anything. Plus he felt sick at the idea of scaring her off. Over time he got over it and moved on because he was sure she didn’t feel the same way.

Now years later she falls in love with him?

“Things would’ve been easier if I would’ve went for it as a teenager... huh?” Cal asked, dumbfounded.

“Probably. Do you... do you still feel the same way? Because you got Y/N out there crying and Maya over there trying to talk to people she doesn’t know.” Luke pointed over to Maya.

Calum couldn’t help but smile over at his girlfriend. He felt so warm and fuzzy around her. She was so fucking cool, and he was proud that she was here with him. But that feeling was dulled down when he looked out on the balcony. Seeing Y/N cry could ruin his happiness at any time.

But it wasn’t because he was in love with her. He used to be, but now he fiercely loved her in a family kind of way. He forced himself to move on from her and the damage was already done. He desperately wished that she would’ve felt the same back in the day because maybe things would’ve worked out. But now he has a girlfriend and she’s out on his balcony crying.

“I’m not in love with her, but I care about her more than probably anyone else.” Calum admitted, “It fucking hurts to see her so upset.”

The door opened up and Ashton walked in, his hand came up to his chest from being startled at how many people were in the apartment. He grinned as Calum walked over and gave him a hug.

“Happy birthday, mate.” He said.

Ashton giggled, ��You fucker!” He pulled Calum into a tight hug of appreciation.

Y/N stopped crying when she saw Ashton walk inside. Ashton deserved this party and she wasn’t about to ruin it. He was the type of friend that would do anything for anyone. He was the sun coordinating the planets, making them more efficiently. At the same time he was the moon, luring over loved ones in dark times to offer any sort of help; emotional or physical.

Ashton deserved all the good in this world and she wasn’t about to fuck it up over crying over a man. She thought about all the tik toks joking about gagging after crying over men, and that made her feel a bit better.

Y/N would suck it up for now and go give Ashton a hug because he was worth it.

Harry pulled away slightly when he saw that Ashton arrived too. He glanced down at Y/N and she gave him a small nod and a smile.

Harry once read that your body naturally rejects a potential mate that isn’t a match. Effects are; nervousness, unease, and weariness. Apparently the theory goes that if someone is right for you, being around them gives off a sense of contentment and peace. You don’t have to get overly excited around them to the point that you feel sick. Rather you sense of feeling at home with them.

That’s how Harry felt with Y/N. His past girlfriends he loved-sure. He was heartbroken when things ended with Camille, but he didn’t have that sense of calmness with her. Not like he had around Y/N.

He was utterly fucking stuck on her. She was the one.

He managed to feel this way for years without it ever going away. That had to mean something. His mom once told him that shit happens for a reason. Calum not loving her back like that could shift her to Harry. And as fucked up as that idea was, and how down right cruel it was, he hoped it was true.

“I need to go see Ash..” she paused, glancing up into his green eyes. Right then Harry knew that she was about to ask him to go along with her.

“Let’s go, c’mon love. I’m right here with ya.” He soothingly assured, grabbing her hand.

Together the pair made their way inside to where the party was happening. Y/N noticed that Maya was standing beside Calum, his arm wrapped around her waist. She clutched tightly onto Harry’s hand as a sharp pain zapped her in the chest. His thumb rubbed against her skin in reassurance.

“Y/N’s coming.” Michael whispered to Calum. He immediately dropped his arm from around his waist and shot a look to Maya saying that he would explain at a different time.

He tried to offer a smile to his sad friend but she refused to meet his eyes. Instead she moved to stand by Ashton, causing the groups attention to go to her. No one failed to notice Harry’s hand was gripping Y/N’s.

Harry seemed like a protective guard dog that was on edge when a stranger walked past its owner.

“There you are! I was wondering where the hell you were! Also, I’m gonna kill you, Cal said you did most of the work for this.” Ash teased, making Y/N’s lips quirk into a genuine grin.

“You’re gonna kill me? No buddy, it’s the other way around! You told Harry that I helped write your albums.” She accusingly joked, jabbing the black haired man in front of her on his chest.!

Ashton burst into laughter, “Harry, mate, that was a secret. Cant trust no one..”

Harry smiled in his charming boyish way, his red nails on show as he lifted his hands to shrug as if it was no big deal, “Maybe I wanted a share of her writing talent.”

Michael looked at Luke with wide eyes. Holy shit, Harry just pulled out a wild card. Could the British man not even hide how enamored he was with their friend? Michael admired his confidence to ask Y/N to write with him. Writing was something you had to have complete trust in with a person, and the proccess undoubtedly bonded souls.

Y/N blushed after Harry’s claim that her writing held any sort of talent. She usually went with the flow and the words poured out.

“You gonna do it? Help him write a song?” Luke asked

“She said yes. Unless she was fuckin’ with meh.” Harry said, side eyeing the woman next to him. He saw her laugh and he internally gave himself bonus points for being able to do that while she was so down in the dumps.

“Dinners involved with the deal so I jumped on it.” Her attention turned to Harry, “As long as it’s not Chick-tik-A. Their food sucks and they’re a company against homosexuals.... that’s a no from me dawg.”

Harry smiled, knowing that Y/N was feeling better.

“That’s great, bub. I’m super proud of you. I know the song will be a fucking hit.” Calum said, shifting his head to look at her.

For the first time she raised her eyes and sadly smiled at him, “Thanks Cal...”

****************

Months later and Y/N was truly doing better. Her heart still hurt a bit from Calum but she was gradually getting over it. Seeing him wasn’t to the same point of familiarity as it used to be, but the two friends were working it out as best as they could.

And truth be told, Y/N liked Maya. Maya was honestly a good match for Calum, as annoying as it was.

And Y/N didn’t have time to be upset because Harry had her too busy with constant adventures and late nights. She appreciated it. She appreciated him.

Tonight he took her to the poetry cafe that they liked. It’s small little place at the end of L.A. He said he found it one day when he was walking alone, pretty sad and feeling alone. Stumbled across the joint and found a deep connection to it. He explained how much it meant to him and it soon became important to her too.

The dim glowing lights brought upon a comforting blanket of support and trust to whomever dared to enter such a vulnerable place. Those who stood on the pedestal of expression compiled their feelings into a glorious ballad.

Harry and Y/N sat at the small table in the back, matching style ball caps sat upon their heads. His a pretty purple and hers a yellow. He told her that it would be better if they kept their identies more hidden.

Their chairs were moved to sit closer next to each other so that their hands could intertwine. They held hands a lot because it was comforting and felt so so so right. His thumb rubbed against her hand as another young woman stood up to go.

I was alone

Felt like no one cared

Ate dinner for one and cried tears enough for two

But something changed in my life

Because there was you

Y/N stopped listening as the woman’s words soaked past her skin, muscles, bones, and swirled to embed into her soul. These words were ones that she personally related with. Sure she had friends but she was so lonely when it came to romance. Until recently.

She wasn’t certain what was going on with her and Harry, but she felt herself caring more and more until the point that he became her number one. She talked to him the most, saw him the most, and for fucks sake she thought about him the most.

He seemed to always be on her mind. If she found a cute sweater she would think about how Harry would wear it with his pearl necklace. Saw a dog? Awh, he would love to pet it. Tasted red wine? She’d think about the time that he spilled it on his counter and acted surprised when she licked it off, claiming that it couldn’t go to waste. If she looked at anyone attractive, she couldn’t help compare them to Harry.

It was exciting. Moving on from Calum and to Harry was new and it brought upon a lot of foreign feelings. As great as all that was, there was a worrisome idea lodged in her head. Could Harry just be acting as a good friend like Calum had? She wasn’t sure and she was too much of a wuss to figure it out.

Harry detached his hand to start clapping along with the crowd as the woman said her thank you and walked off the stage. Y/N blinked back to reality as Harry turned to her.

“That was beautiful, really raw and genuine.” He spoke, offering a smile that showed his perfectly arranged white teeth.

“Yeah, it- it really was.” She was doing a horrible job at convincing him that she actually paid attention to it.

“Love, I’m not incompetent , I know you weren’t listening- you’re too caught up in ya head. What’s going in there?” His fingers slotted within hers, his blue nails the same shade as hers. She painted both sets last night when she went over for dinner.

How could a woman look at a man and explain that she was falling in love with him, but she was scared because last time she was in love she got hurt- she thinks she loves him but she doesn’t want him to think he was a rebound.

She felt humiliated, her eyes avoiding his. The open sign on the window was suddenly the most amazing thing to look at.

“Y/N, dear? Talk to me.” His lips were so close to her ear that she could feel his breath when he spoke.

“My heart is in your hands and that’s fucking terrifying to me because, well, we saw how that went last time.” She muttered, still not looking at him but rather the other people there with their significant others.

Harry was suddenly standing up and pulling her out of the small cafe during a poetic interpretation about being bound to your family.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as the wind bit at her soft skin. She fucked up. She really stupendously fucked this good thing that was going on between them. She must’ve misinterpreted his good nature for feelings and was a stupid bitch that fell for it.

He pulled out the outside patio chair and sat her down. She gave him a quizzical look as he moved her legs apart so that he could sit in between them on the concrete.

Reseda green windows to the soul gazed into her, tears pooling around them. His cheeks were puffy and red. He was visibly upset.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to make you cry like this, I shouldn’t have said anything to you-“ she rambled in desperate need to fix this situation before she lost him completely.

“Shhh. Not the least bit upset, ‘m crying because you’re my soulmate.”

Her eyes widened in shock, a forceful cough ripping out of her throat at his confession. He soothed her, handing her his water to take a sip. She waved his hand away to signal that she was fine.

“Mum told me that Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that's not the one. When you meet your soul mate, you'll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation. First time we shared a conversation i only felt peace and contentment. When I’m not with you, my mindset is off. I don’t like being away from you for long. I worry if you’re okay or I wonder if you are reading a book that’s making you sad. You get so into your books, love. The empathy doesn’t stop when it comes to characters.”

She slightly laughed as she recalled the time he waltzed in on her crying because your character in your book was alone on their birthday. He immediately was making her a cup of tea and bugging her about if something happened with work.

“I’ve been waiting for you for years. Honestly was hopelessly pinning after you. Like everyone knew but you. So when you admit you feel the same way...I got emotional.” He softly said, playing with the rings on his hand.

Her hands itched to be the ones twisting his fingers around. So she did. His hands melted into the skin of hers as he grabbed them. Her thumb twirled his left middle finger’s black band. He blushed at the feeling. She did tend to do this when they were submerged in a deep conversation.

“You’re an emotional man, Har. Endearingly so. I admire it more than you’d think.” She retorted.

Harry sat up so that he was sitting more on his knees so that he was closer. His face closer to hers. She could smell his cologne infiltrate her senses. She wished she could bathe in his sun-like presence forever.

“I happen to admire that you admire me.” He teased, blinking as more tears fell down his godlike sculpted face.

“You’re still crying, you’re gonna make me emotional.” She laughed as tears were starting to build up in her own ducts. This was really intimate and she was getting mushy.

“Can’t help it. Jus’ soft cuz of you.”

Her hands shifted to grab the collar of his coat, pulling it until his lips were melting into hers He hummed is satisfaction, his hands shifting to cup Y/N’s face to bring her closer. It was a desperate kiss, the kind where emotion tries to convey the feelings not able to form into words.

His lips molded to her, trying to memorize the taste for the rest of his days. His nose was shoved against her cheek as he slipped his tongue in, sliding it against hers greedily, finally doing this after dreaming of it for years. She pulled away for air, his lips chasing hers in a drunken daze.

“Let me breathe for a sec.” she gently pushed him away with her palm pressed against his face. He laughed, leaning back.

“Used to think singing on stage was the best feeling, but that was before I got to kiss those sweet lips. Just one more peck?” He made kissy faces in her direction.

“Thank you.”

His face scrunched up in confusion, “what?”

“Thank you for.. being there. Taking care of me like you do. Making me laugh by being dumb. Especially for buying pizza rolls in bulk. I know you don’t like them as much as you let on. But I do and you do it for me. Means a lot.”

“Anything for you, m’love,” He stood up and led out a hand, “Me and you. Please let that be the rest of my life.”

Y/N decided in that moment that Calum Hood getting a girlfriend was the best thing to ever happen to her.

Part 2?

#Harry styles imagine #Harrystylesimagine #Harry styles

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ampleappleamble · 4 years ago

Text

---

"...Did I fuck this up?"

Edér looked up from his whittling, focusing his good eye on the little woman. The other eye was still swollen shut, shiny and painful from their fight against his late Lord, but with some rest and the help of Raedric's priests-- Kolsc's priests, now-- he and the rest of his friends would be good as new for the trek back to Caed Nua tomorrow.

"Ain't too many ways I can think of to fuck up killin' a terrible murderin' bastard like Raedric," he mumbled around his mouthful of smoke, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Unless y' think we didn't kill him enough, or somethin'."

Axa's lips smiled, but the rest of her face did not follow suit. Her party was spending the night in a corner of the Berathian priests' sleeping quarters in Raedric's sanctuary, and she sat on her borrowed bed gently rocking to and fro, her knees drawn up to her chest, her sharp little nails worrying tiny holes in her trousers.

"The Legacy makes men mad. Perhaps it does worse to women. I do not know." Raedric had looked Axa over, then, had glanced toward his bedchamber where his own wife lay dead in their marital bed--

"No, we killed him exactly the right amount, I think." The smile was already gone, soundly quashed by the memory. "I just... feel like I may have acted in haste here. Like there's something I'm missing about all this that's going to bite me in the ass later, when I least expect it." She pressed her chin into her knees, curling up as tightly into herself as she could.

--if i make myself small enough i can just hide away from all this and no one will see me--

Kana chuckled, idly leafing through a massive tome that dwarfed even his sizable lap as he reclined in the worn armchair next to Axa's bed. "Yes, it is a rough sea, the world of the ruling class! So many nerve-wracking social calculations to make, always looking over one's shoulder... The political alliances to take into account, then the family alliances... But even the Ranga Nui himself and his own son are at ideological odds! And if you're discovered as a fair-weather friend, paying lip service to either or both--"

"I think," Aloth interrupted, "perhaps, that you've made your point, Kana." The elf was just as irritable now as he had been the morning that old drunk had showed up at Caed Nua, and his half-healed broken rib was not helping to improve his mood.

And now the in-fighting begins in the Lady of Caed Nua's inner circle. Axa felt her guts redouble their efforts to destroy themselves, anxiety churning inside her like acid. "Gods, I'm ill-suited for this politicking horseshit. Why did I think I could do this? I'm Ixamitli, we don't... nobody 'owns' the land, that's not how--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" Kana pressed on, seemingly oblivious to Aloth's peevish attitude. "Just as hard lands forge strong people, rough seas often yield great rewards. For instance, when we return to Caed Nua on the morrow, we can look forward to seeing your Brighthollow manse restored to its former beauty and prestige! Well, in part, anyway. All because of your actions here today and Kolsc's gratitude!"

"And even if you weren't gettin' somethin' out of it," Edér added, "you're the kinda lady can't rest without knowing you did the best thing y' could. Point being, y' had to do something, long-term consequences be damned. And like I said earlier, if y' have to do something, it's hard to go wrong with killing a mass-murdering shitheel like Raedric. No matter how bad Kolsc might turn out to be, better him than what we had goin' on before." He casually brushed the wood shavings from his lap, either ignoring or unaware of the annoyed glares and whispers from the priests in the room.

Axa glanced across the room at Aloth, who simply lay on his back in his bed in the corner, eyes screwed shut, his grimoire too heavy to hold in his lap without irritating his wounds. "Maybe," she sighed, lifting her head from her knees, "I should just hire on an advisor. Someone who actually knows what they're doing, to help me navigate these choppy waters." Her gaze flicked to Kana, a wicked little grin popping up on her face. "You know anyone who needs a job?"

The aumaua laughed, a thunderous noise that filled the small room. "Everyone I know is either in this room or in Rauatai, my friend! But I take your meaning. However, my own experience with the gentry is limited to the court of the Ranga Nui, a profoundly different environment from the one in which you find yourself, so I'm afraid I'd be more of a hindrance than a boon. And--" He glanced over at Edér, his smile half apologetic and half cheeky-- "I hope he'll forgive me for saying so, but our Edér doesn't seem like the sort to hobnob with the nobility."

The folk man snorted. "What tipped y' off?"

"That leaves you, Aloth," Kana continued, smiling in the elf's direction. "If I recall, you were raised among the gentry in Aedyr, were you not? That's a bit closer to the political system and aristocratic power structure here; any insight you have into that world would surely be invaluable to our Watcher. You're qualified, intelligent, you're clearly quite learned, you're... capable in battle. Why, you even came to the Dyrwood with the express purpose of finding a patron!" He was getting excited now, leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating passionately. "And here she is! What marvelous serendipity!"

Axa couldn't help but be charmed by Kana's enthusiasm, and she appreciated his effort to lift the wizard's spirits. "That's not a bad idea, actually. What say, Aloth?" She couldn't see his face from where he lay, but she could see his ears were bright red.

Not a fan of being the center of attention, I see. She felt a sudden surge of sympathy and warmth towards the man, and found her own ears reddening soon thereafter.

"I wouldn't take the gig 'f I were you. She can't even pay you, 's what I heard." Edér winked at her, taking his attention away from his whittling for just a second, then hissed with pain and surprise as his knife slipped.

Kana shook his head, his grin as wide as ever as he regarded the farmer with pity. "O, poor man! He who thinks coin is the sole and lone benefit of working for a prestigious, powerful woman like our Watcher! The true rewards of such a vocation are not in material wealth, my friend, but in the challenge! Rebuilding the glorious Caed Nua from the crumbling ruins... The intrigue of the political world of the Dyrwood... the tension, the drama... not to mention the treasure trove of ancient Engwithan secrets just waiting to be discovered in the Endless Paths!" He sighed like a lovestruck maiden telling her friends of her handsome beau. "Ah! I'm so envious. Were I more well-suited to the position, I'd have accepted her first offer in an instant! As it is, it seems I'll have to settle for hired muscle. Either way, I couldn't ask for a finer directress!" Now Axa's entire face was getting warm, and she found herself unable to look at Kana, although she could feel his eyes on her, his smile, warming her like gentle spring sunlight.

"Aye, I wager ye'd leap at a position 'neath 'er, slick-a-britches."

Aloth very quickly clapped a hand over his open mouth-- the loud pop! filling the little room-- and then came the long, shuddering groan of pain muffled behind his fingers, the sudden movement having yanked at his sore ribs.

Axa immediately flopped over onto her side, laughing like Hel, unable to stop herself. Edér's eyebrows leapt up his forehead, surprise and delight clear on his face, his wounded thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.

"...She seems impressed. I think you've got the job, my friend!" Kana chuckled, flipping to a new page in his gigantic book. He paused, considering, and then leaned forward in his seat, cocking his head with curiosity. "...Did you say 'slick-a-britches'?"

"No. I didn't. I said nothing." The elf's voice was quiet and short and clipped. "I'm in immense pain and I'm speaking complete and utter idiotic meaningless nonsense. ...Can we please talk about anything else." Axa was still giggling, tip of her tongue sticking out between her front teeth. He squirmed with embarrassment, and it hurt.

"As you say. How about this animancy research?" The scholar lifted the huge tome on his lap, tilting it up to show Edér as he crossed the room to wash and wrap his thumb. "I'm no animancer, to be sure, but from what little I've managed to decipher from Osyra's records, she may have been onto something!"

Aloth bristled, his breath hitching as he exhaled a bit too sharply. He had said 'anything else,' hadn't he. "All any animancer has accomplished, at the very best, is to swell their own ego and their own coinpurse. In particular, Osrya was a dangerous, insane monster who mutated kith into abominations. I have no interest whatsoever in reading anything that woman may have seen fit to record."

Anyone else would take the man's curt tone and disparaging language as the opposite of an invitation to continue. Kana continued with renewed gusto, "But if what Osrya posits is true-- and as far as I can tell, her methods are logically sound, if not morally-- why, then this may just provide the solution to the Legacy that the Dyrwood has been searching for these 15 long years!"

Axa had stopped laughing a while back, but only now did she sit back up. She remembered the animancer's words, recited them aloud with an accuracy she would not ordinarily expect from herself--

"It must be a localized effect. Something which strips the soul from a body, as the bîaŵacs are known to do. I have detected, even so, lingering traces of essence upon the bodies of so-called Hollowborn. This suggests that the soul itself has not been wholly destroyed. It remains, I think, intact somewhere."

Everyone-- even Aloth, lifting his head from his pillows-- looked at her, dumbstruck. The few priests remaining in the room hurriedly shuffled out, angrily whispering prayers to ward their souls against blasphemers.

"Um." She coughed, suddenly uncomfortably self-conscious. "That was... what she had to say, anyway. Before we killed her. ...If I'm remembering correctly."

"That's... what's in here, more or less, yes," Kana blurted, his ever-present grin tinged with nervousness as he shut the enormous book.

"So, what," Edér drawled, squinting at his half-finished carving as he turned it this way and that, "Hollowborn got a soul, but... somethin' or, or someone takes it from 'em soon as they're born?" He furrowed his brow, frowned at a blotch of red on the misshapen wooden thing in his hand. "And... what, hides 'em somewhere? Eats 'em? Why?"

"That would depend, it seems, on who or what is manipulating the souls, I would think." Kana actually frowned, now, staring blankly into the book. "Although I'd be hard-pressed to identify a creature capable of manipulating souls on this grand a scale, for this long, with this much apparent ease and consistency... short of, perhaps, a god." He glanced furtively at Edér, holding up his huge hands in deference. "Not that I'm attempting to implicate any particular deity..."

The farmer shook his head slowly, eyes shut tight with conviction. "Don't worry about me thinkin' that. Like I said before-- I can't and won't believe that Eothas was the kinda god would do somethin' like this."

"Do you believe, then, as some in your country do, that the recent prevalence of animancy is to blame?" The scholar was fumbling for a bit of charcoal, now, eager to take notes. "Keep in mind, the Vailian Republics has not suffered a similar Hollowing despite being the leading animancy practitioners on Eora--"

"Whether the recent uptick in animancy has caused the Legacy by inviting the ire of the gods is nigh impossible to know, and thus pointless to discuss," Aloth interjected, "although I certainly wouldn't put it past many of the gods to come up with a bizarre, horrific punishment like the Legacy in retribution for any slight from us kith, real or perceived.” He glanced balefully at the door the Berathians had shut behind them as they’d left. “What can be meritoriously discussed is what to do about the unbridled, barely educated charlatans taking advantage of a terrified and exhausted populace, using the Hollowborn crisis to feed their sick curiosity and their pocketbooks both. That is the everyday reality of animancy that must be dealt with in the Dyrwood." He winced in pain, his impassioned argument a bit too much for his battered body. "...Ahem. In my opinion."

"I don't think I know enough about any of it to have much of an opinion about it, bein' honest." Edér scratched the back of his neck, squinting in confusion as Kana eagerly copied down the conversation, his attention ping-ponging excitedly between each successive speaker. "I feel like that whole world is way, way beyond my ken." He smiled over at the orlan, glad to see her relaxing and engaging with other kith instead of clutching her knees and staring into the middle distance. He'd seen enough of that during the Saint's War. "...Although some of 'em are tryin' to do somethin' about the Legacy, at least. I guess. This animancer was a crazy piece of shit, but she's also the only animancer I ever met, 's far's I know. So I don't really got a lot to go on. Y'know?"

"Caldara was sweet, and extremely helpful." Axa felt an odd little tug of nostalgia at the memory of the dwarf, her warm, motherly smile. "Of course, she was also dead when I met her. So you'll kind of have to take my word for it. That said, ultimately I have to agree with you: I don't know enough about animancy to pass any sort of judgment on it just yet. It seems potentially useful, perhaps even miraculously so, but also extremely volatile and dangerous." The little woman paused, stretching her sore limbs, and then laid back down on the bed with a long, cathartic sigh. "Perhaps once we reach Defiance Bay, we can get a clearer picture of what the day-to-day animancy trade is really like. Until then, I must, in good conscience, reserve all judgment on the subject."

"A wise choice, but a laborious one. Never let it be said that our Watcher takes the easy way out!" Kana rose from his seat as he spoke, seeing that the orlan was getting ready to settle in for the night, and crossed the room to his loaner bed. "Speaking of hardships, I've heard tell that the poor weather over the last few days may have delayed the work on Caed Nua's eastern barbican. If, once we return, we find that to be the case... and if you're amenable to a bit of dungeon crawling after all this fresh air and sunshine..."

Axa half-groaned and half-laughed, like a good-natured mother finally losing patience with her annoying toddler. "Yes, Kana, I promise we will explore the Endless Paths. I already promised you before, too, remember?"

"Forgive me!" Kana chuckled as he reclined, his feet dangling over the edge of the too-small bed. "I don't mean to wheedle you, rest assured. But once I get an idea in my head, I tend to focus on it so intently as to neglect politesse!"

"We've noticed," Aloth grumbled.

The massive aumaua turned to Aloth in the bed next to his, smiling still. "That reminds me-- I've never heard that one before, 'slick-a-britches'. Did you mean to say I slicken others' breeches-- or britches, as you say-- or did you mean my own breeches are slick? As in, ah, lubricated for easier removal? I didn't even know you spoke Hylspeak! You must teach me some!" He wore no malice on his face, only open, honest wonder, and for some reason that bothered Aloth more than if the aumaua had been outwardly hostile.

Axa cackled maniacally in her bed, thrashing her limbs and rolling about. Aloth slowly, deliberately pulled his coverlet up over his chin, then his nose, then his brow. His facial expression did not change.

---

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #wip #i finally finally feel satisfied with this bit #only one more longer bit and one more shorter bit to write before the chapter's finally done~#this was v fun to write but o my god it took five false starts and almost a month to compose a first draft

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tuttifuckinfruttifriday · 4 years ago

Text

Part 2 of The Letter

Kill(h)er

Pairing: small Jason Voorheese x MJ, MJ x Malon, kind of Freddy Krueger x Malon and MJ

Warnings: angst, small gore/wound mention and kidnapping

Don’t hesitate to tell me if I did some mistakes :)!

—

MJ waited and didn’t get an answer back. She was starting to worry her letter wasn’t sent or got lost.... Maybe it took more time to send?? She didn’t really know how long it took from Crystal Lake to where her parents were, but she didn’t think it would be that long...So with a sigh, she got up from the table and decided she wanted to go take a walk, her standing startling her daughter who was drawing on the floor. “Can I come with you mommy??” The female only nodded taking her small hand. “We won’t be too long or daddy will worry.” Malon nodded and smiled sweetly before they opened the door and walked toward the path Jason made for them. It was paved with small rocks, so they could clearly see the trail. When they came at the end, they stopped.... Hearing police sirens???

Before they could do anything more, police officers ran toward them, guns raised as they looked at the mother and daughter. “My babyy!!!—“ To MJ’s shock, her mother ran toward her and hugged her tightly, her father following closely behind as the officers looked around, their guns still raised and their dogs, that MJ just now noticed, even more on alert. What was happening?! They’re not supposed to know where she is!! “Do you remember the way you’ve come from ma’am?” A kind looking woman officer asked her when her parents released her. “I... What are you doing here?? How....” MJ was speechless, looking at her parents and the 3 officers with her, the others already scattered in the woods when she didn’t answer the question the blonde asked her. “We’ll protect you, okay? They can’t hurt you anymore...” Her mother caressed her hair as she let down some tears, MJ doing the same as she realized the danger of the situation. “I.....” The costumed woman released a sigh as she looked around, her hand hovering over her gun.

“M...mommy...?” There were small tugs on her dress. A gasp escaped her as she remembered that she almost forgot Malon. When her parents heard the small voice, they jumped in the air as they didn’t think that they would hear a child’s voice. Five pairs of curious eyes wandered toward the figure hiding behind her mother’s skirt. The latter put a protective hand behind her, holding her daughter’s and hiding her a little more. The girl was startled when she heard the woman who hugged her mother’s curious voice. “Who... Who could this little angel be??” The female officer, who tried not to listen at first, turned with surprise toward the small being behind their supposed victim. The redhead didn’t respond to the question, so after a moment of silence, MJ looked toward her mother with a face deprived of any emotions, glaring as she suddenly felt defensive. “She’s my daughter, Malon.” Everybody’s eyes widened at the revelation as they totally didn’t expect that answer. But still wanting to be polite with her long lost daughter, MJ’s mother forced a smile and nudged her husband. “We didn’t thought you would have a daughter. Malon’s a beautiful name.... is the father—“ She immediately cut herself as her eyes widened again, realizing her mistake.

MJ’s wet eyes darkened as the possibility of them finding her undead husband came to her. They probably wouldn’t, since Jason’s probably already watching and hiding, but she just couldn’t help but worry. Some time after they came back, Malon crying in her mother’s arms, they walked back with MJ toward their car, her trying to protest without sounding too defensive about her supposed kidnapper as she told them she was fine. “That’s not what you send us, honey. Are you feeling well?” MJ frowned at her father’s voice, seeing him sending her a glance from the corner of his eye.

She still couldn’t believe it, so she stayed speechless and only glared at her father. The male didn’t even looked ashamed. Why was he being rude and cold toward her??

When they finally left, MJ saw her husband’s figure trough the back window, and tears started to stream down her face. Thinking that it was from relief, her mother hugged her close to her, Malon sleeping soundly from the crying.

Jason couldn’t help but let out some tears under his mask, his heart breaking. A small part of him told him that it she planned this all along and modified the letter after she showed him. But he knew it wasn’t what she wanted, the pain on her face and tears showing it. He even saw Malon crying, and it totally broke his heart even more. He would find how they found them, he promises himself that.

—

At the station, MJ’s parents asked her if she wanted to come back with them, but she obviously declined, even if she was really happy to see them. So she stayed at the station, the police wanting to know everything about the killer of camp Crystal Lake. When she only said a vague description, like that he wears a mask, they looked kind of angry, but she seriously didn’t care at the moment. When she finished, she cared tho, because she didn’t have anybody to take her home.

Home? She, or more like they, didn’t have a home anymore.

With a sigh, she looked at Malon who sat beside her and told her that she’s going to relieve herself, having drunk three cups of water because of her crying and not having gone to the bathroom or eaten anything the officers gave her since they’re here. Watching her mother go, her big eyes trained on her figure, Malon sat quietly and looked at the officers who passed her with curious eyes, since she’s never been to a police station. She didn’t really like being around a lot of people, because she’s never been for the most part of her life. Why wasn’t daddy here?...She wants him here....

When the door opened, her sparkling green eyes fell onto a kind of familiar figure, a male with a green and red sweater with a really kind face and a brown leather jacket. When she tried to remember how she knew him, she could only recall that she’d seen him when she was younger, but he really picked her curiosity.

He seemed to search for something, his kind eyes looking around the place and falling on her small figure, a soft and relieved smile appearing on his face. “Malon! You’re mother sent me to get you, darling.” He knew she wouldn’t remember his true form(for now), so he opened his arms and she hugged him, smiling. “Hi mister Fred!” A smirk appeared on his face as she called him like that, obviously remembering their talk they had. He took her by the hand, no officers protesting or finding it strange. They only made him sign a paper and show them his identity card, nodding and watching with a small smile the cute little girl going with her uncle. In the foreign car, the curious girl moved her feet back and forth from her seat, waiting to go find her mommy, her naivety helping in no way the situation she didn’t know she’s fallen in. While her thoughts were racing as she tried to remember more of how she knows him, his dark eyes looked into the rear-view mirror, a wicked smile spreading on his face as he finally had what he wanted.

“HELP—!!” The chair she’s bounded to rattle on the ground as she tried to get out of her binds, the skin of her wrists turning raw and starting to become bloody in her struggle. “Please.... somebody..........” Tears streamed down her face again as she sniffled, breathing heavily as what she could only guess as blood stained her forehead and dripped a little down. She didn’t know how long she’s been down here, but she felt really dizzy and her head hurt. There were scratches on her neck too, but she couldn’t see how bad it was, and she was kind of relieved since she could feel the burning and the blood still dripping. The air stung her wounds as the adrenaline dropped, her body growing weaker.... and her only thoughts being about how her little girl was alone with him.

———————

I dare you @randomly-a-fan to do another part if you want to, I’m really curious <3👀

#jason voorheese #randomly a fan

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allie1804-fan · 4 years ago

Text

Please Assist Me (Chapter 17)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Ch6apter 10 , Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 , Chapter 16

Warnings: Some explicit Content

He Said

The wrap for the film in November left me high - it had been an amazing experience again for me but the joy at the film completing was made so much better by the knowledge that I would soon be back home, holding Sophia in my arms.

I got back to my apartment after the wrap party at around midnight, slightly inebriated and dialled her back in LA.

“It’s done, I’m coming home” I declared.

“you seem happy” she said laughing at my slurred speech “are you drunk?”

“little bit I think, yup! You alone?”

“a ha – kids are at Julie’s today”

“ooooh goody, wanna play?”

She Said

When Ke called me after the wrap party, he was clearly a little drunk, a bit goofy ……and horny. A few times whilst he’d been away, we’d masturbated together and I knew that was where this was going today. I moved into the bedroom and he started softly instructing me as to which garments to remove, what to show him and telling me everything he wanted to do to me when he got back. He was the master of story telling and timing, holding off telling me to touch myself for as long as he could so that when the time came and he encouraged me ……….

“now touch yourself, imagine my tongue….”

I was off like a firecracker, screaming his name which pushed him over the edge too, a loud grunt coming through the speaker of the iPad.

I propped the iPad up against his pillow on the bed and we stared at each other, smiling and I know I was blushing a little.

“Why do you always blush when we do that? We are allowed you know, you are my girlfriend right?”

I nodded, giggling a little.

“Yeah, it’s just that it’s 3.30 in the afternoon here - it feels very decadent to be touching myself while the kids are off doing their school day!”

“Where are they on Friday? I get in at around 7am?”

“Lucky you, it’s Miranda’s day. But you should get some sleep”

“I’ll sleep on the plane …………..and after I’ve taken you!”

“Promises, promises”

“Absolutely!”

He Said

“Told you!”

“Told me what?” Sophia breathed as she lay back on the pillow, her long brown hair fanning out around her and her chest still rosy pink with the flush of orgasm.

“Told you I’d take you first before sleep today” I murmured, sinking into the pillow and yawning.

“Poor old man’s sleepy”

“Hey, less of the old”

Sophia pulled up the covers and ran soothing hands over my shoulders”

“Get some rest baby and thank you”

“For what?”

“Coming back to me and keeping your promise”

I could feel myself drifting into dreams already “mmm no problem, I love you Sophia, I’m so glad to be home”

“Love you too Ke”

When I woke up it was early afternoon and Sophia had made a spread of some of my favourite things for lunch, chief among which was a Peanut butter and jelly sandwich! I feasted and we talked about our plans for the time we now had together. There were still restrictions in California due to Covid so there were limitations on how much we could do but truth be told my main priority was investing time with this newly forming family, seeing some other family and friends and taking some bike rides. There would be John Wick training in the new year but until then, my time was my own.

She Said

Once Keanu was back and we’d got over the initial rush of excitement to be together again, we settled into something of a routine.

He’d stay over a couple of nights a week and at least once a week I’d spend the day with him at his house, often just enjoying a decadent day between the sheets. A Wednesday would be similar for us to a Sunday for a couple who didn’t have kids in the house bouncing out of bed at 7am!

Whilst we did have a routine of sorts there were still adjustments to be made. One of these took me a little by surprise and was partly triggered by a routine letter from my doctor.

Keanu was there as I opened it.

“Everything OK?

“Oh, yeah sure, it’s just about my coil. It’s going to expire soon so I have to go in for a consult”

“Oh and are you just going to get another one or ….?”

“Or what ?”

I had known this decision was coming soon and it had got me questioning whether it was the end of the road for me and babies. Some friends around me were still having more kids and that was one factor in me questioning it. The last new baby had arrived only a couple of weeks ago - it was Julie’s so we’d gone to visit, taking a gift. I got to cuddle her little boy Matthew too since we were in the bubble together. I remembered Keanu’s indulgent expression as I’d declared

“Babies just rule don’t they? Every home should have one! – but then again they are soooo much work!”

I was only joking around but it was true, I did love babies and I couldn’t say for sure that I was content with declaring an end to my child-bearing years by getting another coil fitted for 10 or more years. I know you can take them out early but the fact that it could just go in and stay in did make that particular choice feel quite final. On the other hand, it was safe and super convenient and meant no condoms which I had never liked and most men I knew didn’t either. I wondered what Keanu thought of my comment. He was so great with my 2 kids - I didn’t know whether he regretted not having kids of his own – I mean I guess that was kind of inevitable given what he had lost but I didn’t know if it was something he wanted still.

“Or …… do you ever wonder about having more kids?”

“Gosh, I don’t know”

“No? You weren’t thinking about it when cuddling baby Matthew the other day?”

I blushed.

“Well, maybe it crossed my mind that this decision was coming up”

“and?”

I took a deep breath

“And I wasn’t sure I was completely ready to …….. to close the door” I admitted.

He Said

I sat at my desk, a blank piece of paper in front of me. I was about to embark on a methodical analysis of my thoughts on having a kid with Sophia. After she’d said she wasn’t sure she was ready to close the door, she asked me what I wanted. Gosh, that took the wind out of my sails even though I had been the one to lift the lid by asking her about her coil. To be honest, it was the way she had been with baby Matthew that had started me thinking before that and had re-awakened in me something I’d not felt since my 40s: The longing to have a child of my own.

I started jotting down thoughts - pros and cons and trying somehow to think about how positive or negative they each were. It was no good weighing a negative like sleepless nights against a positive like giving my mother grandchildren and my sisters a niece or nephew. I was still pouring over my page, filling it with thoughts and adding circles around key words and phrases when Sophia popped her head around the corner to say hi. She’d just arrived after dropping the kids at Miranda’s.

“Hey what’s this?” she asked leaning over my shoulder and kissing my cheek.

“Well, it’s me attempting to be rational, practical, you know about what we talked about yesterday”

“Oh, I see” she responded as she started to scan the page.

“you’re not too old” she exclaimed, picking up on one of the negatives I’d written.

“You sure ?– I mean I could be nearly 80 when they’re 20 something – my mom was 40 when I was 20!”

“Yeah but I’ll be 50 when Eva is 20 - 20 was very young to have a kid by today’s standards. What are the numbers next to each thing?”

“A scoring system” I said blushing a bit.

“Oh my god, how scientific are we getting!?”

“Like I said” I defended, “I’m trying to be pragmatic, weigh things in the balance which is hard when you have things like this in the mix”

I pointed to the biggest word on the page which I’d started to draw around. It was ‘Love’ and it was certainly the thing that counted most in the balance. The love that a child could bring into my life and everyone else in our families was why seeing Sophia with Matthew that day had sparked all those feelings. It didn’t really matter that much that I might need to do fewer projects, that I’d have less freedom and time to myself for creative projects, that we’d be building a complex family melding with the existing one. I think the only thing on the page I could see that made me hesitate were the words “Loss” , “risk and “disappointment”. How on earth could we embark on this path and accept that maybe Sophia wouldn’t get pregnant, what steps would we take if that was the case or would we just agree that if it didn’t happen on its own then that was the end of it. Or maybe she would conceive and then we’d lose the baby like Ava ……… That option almost equalled the love one in terms of being the opposite in negative points.

“Come on, take a break, have some lunch with me and then talk me through it OK? Maybe I should do the same task huh? We’ll work it out” she soothed, squeezing my hand.

She Said

Keanu was quiet through lunch. I could tell that this topic was really taxing his head and heart and I felt guilty that my contraceptive choices had brought this to the fore. He reassured me that in fact, it was seeing me with baby Matthew that had really started the thoughts spinning round his mind.

Whilst I teased him about his giant mind map of pros and cons with its elaborate points system, it was really useful as a prompt to talk it through. It didn’t strip emotion out of it, after all, how could it with the word love and all its layers of meaning sitting at the centre of the page, but it meant we did consider everything as best we could.

It was the first time we’d talked in any detail about Ava and that experience of loss. He told me most of it, leaning back in the lounger by the pool, eyes closed, holding my hand, an occasional tear leaking out. The horror of giving birth to a silent, dead baby filled me with sorrow for him and Jen and, if I’m honest, some fear for myself. Fear of being the one to do that to him again, fear of embarking on something that held such potential danger. It had never felt that way as I had innocently embarked on my pregnancies with Eva and Miguel.

By the time I had to leave that afternoon, we had almost got to our conclusion, but agreed to sleep on it for a few days. Ironically, he called this technique “incubation”! He said you didn’t actually have to actively think about it but letting it just sit in the back of your mind meant that you would process it and come to a conclusion that you were comfortable with.

He Said

I wanted to pinch myself when I thought back to last Christmas Eve. The two years could not be more different. This evening, at nearly midnight, I found myself hovering outside Miguel’s bedroom door, checking for the steady sounds of him sleeping before sneaking in with his stocking containing a few presents for when he woke up. Sophia was doing the same outside Eva’s door. As I crept up to his bed, looking at his angelic little face, almost black hair sticking out of the covers just a bit, I felt centred and certain about our decisions last month.

He and Eva were my family too now, not officially in law, but in practice they spent more time with me than with their Dad these days. They were comfortable with me, even as an occasional disciplinarian not just a playmate. And that was enough for me and Sophia - if we added to the brood with a child of our own, then great; We weren’t making any efforts to stop a pregnancy and we were both taking care of our health but we would not have any fertility interventions and would stop if nothing had happened after a couple of years since Sophia was nearly 40. We had both agreed that we didn’t want to push our luck too far with a risky pregnancy.

She Said

My main memory of our first Christmas together was Keanu’s goofy grin that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face for the whole holidays. It was there for all the special meals we shared, there when we all opened our gifts from him (purchased without PA help!) and there when he closed the bedroom door and came to make love to me each night, stifling the sounds of our passion from the kids with his kisses.

We were in a cocoon of love and tenderness - I knew work was on the horizon for him and that would change our rhythm again soon enough but for now, we could bask in each other’s love, enjoy the children together and carry a little spark of hope that I might be able to fall pregnant with his child before long.

Once the holidays were over, Keanu was back to developing John Wick 4 and starting a new programme of training. We would have to endure some separation again once shooting started in April in New York but we were all decamping at the start to his apartment there since it would be the holidays then. We even had plans to decorate a bedroom each for the children so they would feel at home when we visited. I wanted them to feel safe and secure. It turned out that this was the one thing I couldn’t guarantee for them, now their mother was publicly dating a movie-star.

@fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu #keanu reeves #romance with boss

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pikapeppa · 5 years ago

Note

DA DWC! The way I said I love you: Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble for Piper and Cullen in your pirate AU! I love the two of them in that AU so much! :D

Ahhhh, an excellent challenge, yes yes! Here we go - some Cullen x Piper Lavellan lovin’ for @dadrunkwriting Friday, along with some crew shenanigans!

This is set in the pirate AU of my and @schoute‘s Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me. I’m thinking to incorporate it into a proper chapter soon, but for now, ‘tis a oneshot.

**************

- PIPER -

Piper stared blearily at her cards, then threw the nine of spades down on the table. “There,” she declared. “Take that and–”

“Wait!” Rynne bleated. She grabbed the card from the table. “We need that for the flush – I mean… oh fuck.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Rylen and Dorian laughed, and Cullen shook his head in mock dismay. Fenris smirked and folded his arms. “The pair of you make a terrible team. You should give up now,” he advised. “Hand over your coin and spare yourselves the humiliation of losing yet another hand.”

“Shut it, Fen,” Piper said belligerently. “You’re just jealous that your girl is on my team and not yours.” They’d been playing wicked grace for a while now, and Piper couldn’t be certain how many hands they’d played, but it was enough for the losers’ shots of rum to be making her head spin in the most delightful way.

Rynne planted her elbows on the table and batted her eyelashes at Fenris. “Yes, Fenris, I think you’re jealous that the fine Captain Mad – hic! – Mad Piper has stolen me away.”

Fenris gave her a flat look. “Why would I be jealous? Cullen and I are winning.”

“No you’re not,” Varric called over from the helm.

Fenris looked up at him in surprise. “We aren’t?”

“Nope,” Varric said. “I’ve been keeping count. Dorian and Rylen are winning. They’re three hands ahead of you.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “That can’t be right.”

“It is,” Cullen said tiredly. “I have to admit, Fenris, I’m somewhat disappointed. I thought you said you were skilled at this game.”

Piper, Varric and Rynne laughed at this, but Fenris lifted his chin in a dignified manner. “I am skilled at this game,” he said calmly. “I am just having an unlucky night.”

“I know why your night is unlucky,” Rynne purred. “Because I’m not on your team.”

Piper sniggered and elbowed her. “You going to give him a lucky night later, you dirty bitch?”

“Ooh, I hope so,” Rynne said. She shot Fenris a heated look.

He tugged his ear. “Kaffas, Hawke, you will make me blush.”

“You already are,” Dorian drawled. “It’s rather precious, really.” He looked pointedly at Fenris’s pink-tipped ears.

Rynne giggled, and Piper grinned at Dorian – Fenris and Rynne were rather precious, after all – then slapped her palms on the table. “All right! Enough of this,” she announced. “Where’s my winnings for this hand?”

“Piper, you didn’t win,” Cullen said patiently. “Fenris and I won this hand.”

“Actually, Commander, you didn’t,” Rylen said politely. “This hand goes to me and Dorian as well.”

Cullen stared at Rylen in surprise. “You’re joking.”

Piper and Rynne cackled more loudly than ever, and Fenris laced his fingers behind his head. “It appears that I’m not the only one who overestimated their skills at this game,” he said airily.

Dorian smirked and idly flicked his cards. “Fenris, I do believe you’re supposed to shit-talk the other teams, not your own partner.”

“Ah. Of course,” Fenris said. “Dorian, Cullen and I are losing because the oil in your hair is reflecting too much light into my eyes. I can hardly see my cards.”

Dorian barked out a laugh. “Is that meant to be an insult?”

“Your hair is greasy,” Fenris said bluntly. “There is your insult.”

“Ouch. I am terribly offended,” Dorian deadpanned. He scooped the coins in the middle of the table toward himself and Rylen. “Fortunately, this silver that Rylen and I are accruing will make up wonderfully for my hurt feelings.”

Piper, meanwhile, was smiling fuzzily at Cullen. When he met her gaze, he smiled back at her. “What is it?” he asked.

“You’re drunk,” she said dreamily.

His eyebrows rose. “Pardon?”

She lifted her chin from her fist. “You are drunk,” she said more loudly.

He blinked. “I’m not–! Why would you say that?”

“You thought you won and you didn’t,” she said. “You’re drunk.” She propped her chin on her hands once more and smiled at him. “Drunk and handsome and muscular and… and drunk.”

His cheeks turned a charming shade of pink. “Well, that was…” He cleared his throat. “That was a small clerical error, nothing more.”

“The Captain is right,” Rylen said to Cullen. “You’re drunk.”

Cullen frowned. “How would you know?” he said somewhat belligerently. “You have never seen me drunk.”

“Exactly,” Rylen said wisely. “The difference isn’t hard to spot. With all due respect,” he added as an afterthought.

Cullen pouted for a moment, then sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. I suppose I should slow down–”

“No!” Piper blurted. Cullen was relaxing more and more with every day he spent among her crew, but it was still difficult to get him to really loosen up. Now that he was drunk enough for it to be noticeable, she didn’t want to lose momentum.

She pounded her fists on the table. “More drinking, more cards! Captain’s orders!”

Rylen gave Piper a knowing look as he started shuffling the cards. “You’re pretty deep in your cups too, Captain. Maybe Fenris is right – you should call it a day. Your losses are only going to get worse from here.”

Piper held up one hand. “Listen, did I bring any of you on my ship for your advice?”

“Yes, you did,” Fenris said.

“You really did,” Varric said. “Everyone here gives you some kind of advice.”

“Except for me!” Rynne chirped. “I don’t have any advice.”

Piper gave her a kindly look. “Now that’s not true,” she slurred. “You gave me advice on how to put on this stupid dress.” She plucked at the peach-coloured skirt of the dress she was wearing – one of the less fussy ones that Rynne’s brother had sent. Before this card game had started, she and Rynne had been trying on each other’s clothes in Piper’s cabin. Rynne had told her this was what highborn girls did for fun sometimes, and Piper had to agree that it was rather fun.

Once she and Rynne had had a drink or two, that was.

In retrospect, perhaps those drinks hadn’t been the wisest idea before agreeing to wicked grace with the boys.

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “What you’re saying is that Hawke’s advice is welcome, but not the rest of us.”

Piper pointed at him. “Exactly. Now where’s the next hand? Rylen, what in Mythal’s knickers is taking so long?”

Rylen chuckled and started dealing another hand. “All right, if you insist. It’ll be your loss, then.”

They continued playing cards for another undetermined number of rounds. From what Piper could tell, she and Rynne must have lost a number of times; before she was really quite aware of how it had happened or why, they were standing on the table while Rynne tried to teach her a quickstep that was all the rage in Kirkwall two years ago.

“Now, watch – hic! – watch carefully,” Rynne said. She plunked her hands on Piper’s shoulders. “It’s slow, quick-quick slow, slow… oh fuck, I haven’t enough space on this table. Here, let me just…” She bent over and started gathering the fabric of her skirt in one hand.

“Rynne,” Piper said confidentially, “I have to tell you something.”

Rynne looked at her with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Piper said earnestly.

Cullen coughed out a little laugh, and Dorian rubbed his temple. “Truly, Piper, none of us have any idea what’s going on,” he drawled.

Fenris tilted his head at Rynne. “Dare I ask why you’re demonstrating on the table and not on the deck where there’s more room?”

“So you’ll watch carefully, of course,” Rynne said.

Fenris huffed. “As though we could tear our eyes away from you.”

Piper whipped around and stared at him in delight. “Woah, Fen!” she exclaimed. “That is a bold line right there!”

Rynne fanned her pinkened cheeks. “Why, Fenris, does that mean you enjoy looking at me?”

He hunched his shoulders slightly. “I am not denying it,” he mumbled.

Piper whooped and clapped her hands, and Rynne beamed at him. “You smooth talker!” she chirped. “And in front of all these people, oh my.”

Fenris’s ears were bright red now. He stood from his chair and held out his hand to Rynne. “Come down, please,” he muttered.

She took his hand, then tripped over her borrowed skirt as she tried to step off the table.

Fenris hastily scooped her up before she could fall, then shot Piper a dirty look – a justifiably dirty look, Piper had to admit, given that she was doubled over with laughter.

“Venhedis,” he muttered. “Why is it always table dancing?”

Rynne lazily draped her arms around his neck as he turned away from the table. “Well, if it means you’re going to carry me around, I might have to dance on tables more often…”

Fenris shook his head in despair, and Piper watched fondly as he and Rynne disappeared down the stairs toward the officer’s quarters. Then she planted her fists on her hips and faced her remaining companions. “All right, you buggering bilgerats, game’s over,” she announced. She pointed at Dorian and Rylen. “You’ll remember this as the day you nearly beat Captain Piper Lavellan at a game of wicked grace.”

Cullen gave her a fondly exasperated look. “Piper, you didn’t win.”

She smiled at him, then slowly bent over and planted her hands on her knees. “Then maybe you can give me a consolation prize.”

Cullen’s eyes dropped to the bodice of her dress, and his face flamed red. Dorian groaned and stood from his chair. “Rylen, we’d better take our leave before the Captain starts defiling the table.”

To Piper’s great amusement, Cullen’s face turned even redder. “No, we – we wouldn’t, not on the – Maker’s breath,” he stammered.

Rylen chuckled. “That’s a good idea, Dorian,” he said. He smirked at Piper, then followed Dorian down the stairs.

“Hey,” Varric complained as Dorian and Rylen passed him by. “What about me? You’re going to leave me here with them?”

Piper jumped off the table. “Don’t worry, Varric, we won’t torture you anymore.” She held her hand out to Cullen in prissy manner. “Master Cullen, won’t you escort me back to my bunk?”

Cullen darted Varric a quick bashful glance, then took Piper’s hand in his. “Of course, Captain.”

Piper snickered as Cullen led her to the captain’s quarters. “I’m not ‘Captain Lavellan’ right now. I’m Lady Piper Fancypants,” she told him.

He frowned slightly. “Why?”

“Because it’s funny!” she exclaimed. She plucked at her petticoated skirt. “It’s like I’m wearing a disguise in this thing.” She looked up at him brightly. “You know, I often wear disguises when – oh, but you knew that already.” She laughed a little self-consciously. Of course Cullen knew she wore disguises; he’d arrested her more than once while she was wearing one, after all. If she was telling him stories he already knew, she must be drunker than she thought.

Cullen smiled at her. “I remember your disguises. I’m rather fond of them, in fact.”

She gazed at him in genuine surprise. “You are?”

“I am, yes,” he said. He opened the door to her cabin and stood aside to let her pass.

She stumbled into her cabin, then turned to Cullen with a smile. “All right then. Which disguise did you like best?”

He closed the door then turned toward her, and a little leap of anticipation jolted her belly. Cullen’s lovely brown eyes were more heated than usual, and when he strode purposefully toward her, her anticipation rose even higher.

He placed one hand on her hip and backed her against the table, and she gaped at him in delight. He was being so… assertive.

She placed a hand on his chest. “Excuse me, Golden Boy,” she said playfully. “I asked you a questio–”

She broke off with a gasp: Cullen’s fingers were tracing along the edge of her bodice. He dipped his fingers into the bodice to graze her nipple, and before Piper could do more than whimper her approval, Cullen was kissing her.

He stroked the inside of her mouth with his rum-soaked tongue, and Piper braced her palms on the table and pressed her chest toward his questing fingers. A moment later, Cullen broke their kiss to pant against her cheek, and Piper grinned as he pulled impatiently at the front of her dress.

“You’re really quite drunk, aren’t you?” she said.

He lifted his head to look at her. “I…” He ran a hand through his wavy hair. “Unfortunately, I am. I… should I not, er…?” His expression became cautious, and he took a step away from her. “I – I will stop if you–”

“No,” she blurted. “Don’t you dare stop.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him close, then blatantly placed his hand over her breast. “Put your hands on me again. I want exactly what you were doing.”

Cullen stared gormlessly at her cleavage for a moment longer, and Piper watched excitedly as his guarded expression grew hungry again. A heartbeat later, he captured her lips in another kiss, then reached around behind her and began undoing the fussy column of buttons that fastened the back of her dress.

She hastily pulled her hair aside so he could more easily reach the buttons. “My my, someone knew exactly how to start removing this silly thing,” she purred. “Had much practice, have you?”

He shot her a chiding but distracted look. “You know I haven’t. I have simply, er…” He trailed off for a moment, and Piper tried to stop herself from laughing as his face creased with concentration.

His fingers moved steadily from the nape of her neck to the small of her back, then his big strong hands were on her shoulders. He pushed one sleeve down and dropped his lips to her bare shoulder, and Piper tilted her head dreamily as his lips moved along the line of her shoulder to her neck. A moment later, his lips brushed against her ear.

“I must confess, I have been admiring your dress all afternoon,” he murmured. “Perhaps I have been thinking about how to, er, remove it.”

His candid words and his lovely boozy breath sent a happy shiver down her spine. “So you like this disguise, then?” she said breathlessly. “This fancy rich girl disguise?”

Cullen pushed down her other sleeve, and Piper happily allowed him to peel the dress down until she was naked to the waist. A moment later, his eyes were roving over her bare chest, and the fluttering pulse between Piper’s legs was pounding more steadily with every second that he perused her body.

Finally his eyes returned to her face. “I’d like to retract what I said before. The disguises are not nearly as attractive as your, um, your nakedness.”

She beamed at him. It was all too much: the booze and the spinning room and Cullen’s rum-induced boldness, and the way his heated gaze was drinking her in like he’d never seen anything so marvelous in his life…

She suddenly burst into giggles, then laughed even harder as Cullen’s cheeks started turning pink. “I’m not laughing at you,” she said hastily. She reached up to stroke his precious face. “I swear, Cullen, I’m not–”

A sudden smash of glass made her jump. “Fuck,” she blurted, and she and Cullen looked at the floor.

A half-empty bottle of rum had toppled from the table to the floor. Piper turned back to Cullen with a smile, fully prepared to make some nonsensical joke about the bottle falling for him, but before she could speak a word, Cullen was kissing her voraciously.

Not just kissing her, though: his hands were pushing her dress down over her hips while he stepped close to her, close enough that her nipples were brushing against his crumpled linen shirt – no, not against his shirt, but against his lightly haired chest that was exposed by the gaping shirt –

She whimpered into his lips and arched toward him. A moment later, he lifted her onto the table and pulled the dress down over her thighs, then threw the dress aside and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her belly.

Piper gasped and jerked, then jerked again when Cullen abruptly ran his tongue between her legs. He sat in the chair at the head of the table and lowered his mouth between her legs again, and Piper lay back on the table and gave herself over to the feel of his lips at the apex of her thighs. Her head was swimming with booze, making the room do a lovely lazy twirl as she gazed vacantly at the ceiling, and… well, come to think of it, it felt entirely like she was swimming. But instead of the ocean’s caress on her skin, it was Cullen’s hands on her body and his patient tongue swirling between her legs, and the pleasure of his touch was swimming through her limbs and belly and building between her legs like a wicked wave…

And then the wave crashed, sending a wonderful shock of pleasure through her body, and Piper arched her neck and grabbed mindlessly at his hands as she cried her climax to the ceiling. A moment later, Cullen was on his feet and looming over her with the most wonderfully intentional look in his eye.

He braced his palms on the table at either side of her head, and Piper wiped the evidence of her pleasure from his chin. “I need you to fuck me,” she panted. “Take this off.” She plucked at his shirt, then reached down to tug at his sash.

He started untucking his shirt, then faltered with a gasp as her fingers curved over the bulge of his manhood. “P-Piper,” he begged.

She sat up at the edge of the table and continued to stroke his cock through his trousers. “Take this off,” she repeated. “Take everything off and fuck me.”

His breathing was ragged now and his movements clumsy, and as he pulled his shirt over his head, he stumbled slightly.

“Cullen!” she exclaimed. She grabbed his arm and started laughing again. Fuck’s sake, he must be terribly drunk if he was being this unbalanced.

He looked positively sheepish now, and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Forgive me,” he said. “I – my eagerness is not quite in line with my mind at the moment…”

She stroked his neck and tried to get her laughter under control. “You’re fine, you’re fine,” she said soothingly, and she slid closer to the edge of the table. “Come on, let’s–”

“Stop,” he blurted, and he grabbed her hips to keep her on the table.

She stopped and grinned at him. “Want me on the table, do you?”

“No, that’s not – I mean, I… I would if you were – er…” He broke off and cleared his throat. “What I mean is… You can’t place your feet on the floor. You’ll cut yourself on the glass.”

She glanced fuzzily at the broken bottle. She’d entirely forgotten about the glass on the floor.

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s all right, my feet are tough as hardwood,” she said. “Now let’s get these trousers off of you.” She tried to slide off the table once more, but Cullen held her in place.

“Piper, please,” he pleaded. “I would rather not see you harmed if it’s not necessary.”

She blinked at him, then smiled fiercely. “Are you trying to look after me? You don’t have to do that, you know. I’m a pirate, I can look after myself.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I simply… I would like to keep your feet intact. I love them very much.”

Her hint of belligerence faded instantly. It was no match for Cullen’s sweet and earnest words. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, you might love my feet, but I love you.”

His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean – I love you too, not only your feet.”

She threw her head back and laughed, then reached down and started untying his sash. “Well, good. Because I love your feet too, but mostly I love you.” She pulled his sash off and threw it aside, then started working on the buttons of his trousers with growing difficulty. How the fuck he’d undone the tiny buttons of her borrowed dress so quickly was beyond her. Was he a savant of some kind for buttons?

Then Cullen tipped her chin up, pulling her attention from his cock back to his face, and her hands fell still. His expression was so tender, and Piper’s heart thumped in her chest at the warmth in his handsome face.

“I love you,” he said softly. “Very much.”

Her silly little heart thumped again, and she beamed at him and slid her hands up his bare chest. “I know, Cullen,” she murmured. “I love you very much, too.”

He shook his head. “You’re laughing, but I’m – I’m very serious. I love you very deeply. And I know you think I am saying it so much because I’ve had too much to drink–”

She pressed her lips together hard to quell her stupid giggling. That was exactly what she’d been thinking.

He frowned at her chidingly. “… but I am completely serious. I…” He sighed, then slid his hands into her hair. “You helped me when I thought I was beyond help. You… helped me when you didn’t need to. When it was at a cost to you. And you… everything is very different now, in a very good way, and Piper, I…”

She cut him off with a kiss. Her heart felt so full, and if he kept talking, she was afraid she’d burst into tears from the potent combination of happiness and rum.

He twined his fingers in her hair, and she tangled her tongue with his while finally – finally – wrangling his buttons undone and shoving his trousers down to his knees. A moment later, his hardness was sliding against the willing heat between her legs, and she was gasping for breath while Cullen groaned into her shoulder, and then –

“Yes,” she cried. He was inside of her, pushing himself deep to fill her up, and when his lips trailed their way from her shoulder to her neck once more, she let out an uninhibited moan.

He nipped her neck and pumped his hips, sending a lovely ripple of pleasure through her body. “I love you,” he breathed.

She wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “I know,” she whimpered. “I love you, too.” She curled her hips toward him to meet his cock.

He panted fitfully against her ear as he fed himself deep, and soon they were fucking in a smooth and steadily rhythm while the table creaked beneath them and the ship spun around them in a lazy swirling flow, and Cullen’s sweet and fuzzy words were pouring into her pleasure-ridden mind.

“I love you, Piper,” he whimpered. “More than I have proper words to say. I… I love you, very much, and being here on this ship with you–”

She turned her head and kissed him hard, and they fucked and breathed desperately against each other’s lips for a moment before she found the air to speak. “I love you,” she said. “I wanted you since we met and now you’re here on my ship, and Cullen, it’s… it’s like a wonderful dream, and I usually have shitty dreams but you’re – you – you’re the best kind of dream, and I–”

He ground his hips into hers, and she broke off with a cry before finding her tongue once more. “I love you a lot,” she whimpered. “So much. So much, Cullen, I just…”

“I know,” he moaned. “I know. And Piper, I… I love you too. I never – ah – I never enjoyed being on a ship, but I feel – here on your ship with you, I… Piper, I love your ship and your… everything, really, and…” He broke off and shuddered, and Piper strained and spread her legs wider as he fucked her harder still in the throes of his pleasure. His hands were hot at her nape and on her thigh, and his shoulders were sweat-laced and smooth beneath her hands, and his cock – fenedhis, the smooth pressure of his cock filling her up: all of it was perfect and heated and sweet, and on top of it all, making this moment more perfect still, were his wonderful words of love as he mumbled them drunkenly into her ear.

He drew a long, fortifying breath, then sighed happily and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I love you,” he murmured. “Truly.”

She smiled and stroked his neck and shoulder. “I know,” she whispered. “Now carry me to the bed so we can go to sleep.”

He smiled against her cheek. A moment later, he took a small step back, then bowed slightly to her. “As my Captain commands.”

She chuckled as he fumbled with his trousers until they were half-fastened around his waist once more. He lifted her carefully from the table, and a moment later they fell onto the bed together.

Cullen rolled onto his back with a groan. “I think I may still be drunk.”

She giggled and clumsily crawled on top of him. “I’d be shocked if you weren’t, Golden Boy.” She lay down on his naked chest with a sigh and closed her eyes.

Cullen chuckled softly. A moment later, he started stroking her hair, and Piper let out a long and satisfied sigh. She would never get enough of his lovely fingers smoothing against her scalp and combing through the madness of her hair.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep, Cullen’s quiet voice infiltrated her half-conscious mind. “I meant what I said, Piper. Rum or no rum, I love you very dearly.”

She smiled. Without opening her eyes, she slid her arms beneath him and hugged him hard. “I love you too, Golden Boy. Very, very dearly.”

Cullen hummed a soft acknowledgment. It was a gentle, quiet sound of happiness, and it was this happy little sound that finally carried Piper’s fuzzy mind off to sleep.

#where the winds of fortune take me #pirate au #cullen rutherford #cullen/lavellan #cullen x lavellan #cullavellan #fenris #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #piperford #fenrynne #smut #pikapeppa writes #pikascout

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sunkissedpages · 6 years ago

Text

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Sixteen || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: okay there is NOT smut in this part I lied but not on purpose that will be next week sljdlkjasjd it got too late for me to include it but that’s a problem for next week me

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of body image issues

What I listened to while writing: the ocean b i t c h

Word Count: 3.7k

You weren’t a huge fan of beer, but Tom was buying the rounds and that’s what he kept bringing over to the table, and what were you supposed to do? Not drink it? It’d be rude, and turning down free alcohol wasn’t really your style.

After a short, unremarkable dinner at an overpriced tourist spot, the four of you had wound up at a bar, against your better judgement. It was odd to be spending time together as...friends. It was different from the Czech Republic, because now the animosity between you and Tom had been dialed back to almost nothing (aside from the elephant in the room he still didn’t know about), and you were still adjusting to it. The friendly nudges on the shoulder, the laughs sent in your direction, the jokes made at your expense- without any hint of malice. They were all things you’d experienced with Harrison before, but never Tom, and it was disorienting you more than the beer was.

This bar was different from the one the mandatory event had been at two nights ago. No one was in favor of going back there, even if you were the tiniest bit curious about whether DJ would remember you. But after getting shitfaced there last time, everyone thought it was for the best if the group of you went somewhere else, which brought you to this hole in the wall. You had stumbled across it on accident on the way to another bar. The walking GPS had taken the four of you down a narrow alleyway when you passed what you had thought was a garage with loud music pouring out of it. It was another, much lower rated, bar, but they had a live band and that was what sold it.

The band wasn’t half bad and the drummer was kind of cute, but you had to yell across the table to hear each other and it was beyond crowded. The band’s sound reminded you of a small garage band from your hometown that had gotten kind of popular when you were in high school. You couldn’t remember their name, but they played a bunch of gigs at bars and you’d always try to sneak into them with your friends. You’d actually slept with the drummer from that band one winter break in college, so maybe that was why you were so partial to drummers.

At some point in the conversation Harrison excused himself to the bathroom and Tom made another trip to the bar leaving you alone with Harry. Your conversation earlier had been so awkward, that you couldn’t think of anything to say now.

“That picture you took of me sucked,” Harry practically shouted at you, breaking the tension.

You hadn’t been expecting him to say anything and it made you choke in your drink with laughter.

“I thought maybe it could be artsy,” you said defensively, referring to how the different colored lights blended together in the background, obscuring him as the subject.

“No, it was just blurry.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew everything about photography,”

“More than you.”

“Fuck off,”

Harry flipped you off from across the table and you whipped out your phone to snap a picture of him before he could put his finger down.

“How’s this one look?” you asked, turning the screen towards him.

“Still awful.”

“Give me break,” you huffed in irritation, earning a chuckle of pity from Harry.

“I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”

You were only halfway through your second Peroni when Tom brought over four more beers, since everyone else had already finished theirs, and slid one of them over to you.You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“What are you up to, Holland?” you asked.

He raised his eyebrows at the nickname. “Definitely not trying to get you to spill all of your secrets, that’s for sure,” he laughed.

“I’m an open book,” you said, lying right to his face.

He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “That’s not true. I don’t know anything about you.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip from the glass you were still working on. “Are you kidding me? We’ve worked together for months now we know each other.”

“You know all about me, literally everything about me, it’s your job. But I don’t know anything about you.”

“Everyone at this table knows I don’t know everything about you,” you said, trying to defer. “Don’t make me look like a fool twice.”

Tom leaned back and took a swig from his new drink. It wasn’t a threat, but it wasn’t an empty statement either, and by looking into his eyes you knew he understood.

“I wasn’t-“

“Hey guys there’s a pool table in the back,” Harrison interrupted, returning from the bathroom. He paused, looking back and forth between you and Tom, unaware of what he had just walked into. Tom cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you all, uh, want to play?”

“Sure,” you agreed immediately, not wanting to dive any further into the gray area you'd gotten yourself into with Tom. You downed the rest of your beer and hopped down from the stool, leaving the full one on the table behind you.

You followed Harrison to the back of the bar, weaving through the mass of people holding on to the hood of his sweatshirt so you wouldn’t lose him. Harry and Tom weren’t far behind. If you’d learned anything about the Hollands it was that they were extremely competitive and weren’t ones to turn down a challenge so this game was about to be interesting.

The lighting was dimmer in the back, and the music and conversation sounded distant now, but it was nice. Whoever had been last to play had left in the middle of their game, leaving the billiard balls scattered all around the table.

Harrison and Tom started setting up the game while you grabbed a couple of cue sticks from the wall.

“Me and Harrison versus you and Harry,” Tom said, and clapped hands with Haz who was already on Tom’s side of the table.

“My own blood,” Harry scoffed, feigning offense at not being chosen as Tom’s partner.

“Sorry, mate trying to win,” Harrison shot back with a wicked grin.

Part of you wondered how often Tom favored Haz over Harry and if anyone was keeping count. The other part of you was a little offended that you were so clearly the teammate to get stuck with. Another thing to bring you back to high school, when you’d get picked last in gym class because of your reputation for your athleticism, or lack thereof.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes in annoyance. “I’m standing right here.”

“Please tell me your pool skills are better than your photography skills,” Harry pleaded and you shot him a look.

“Guess you’ll have to hope for the best, since you’re stuck with me.”

All the boys knew your coordination skills weren’t...the best. Your reputation of clumsiness had certainly followed you everywhere, but they didn’t know you used to sneak into bars when you were in high school, and that there was a pool table inside of every single one.

“Ladies first,” Tom said, and removed the triangle mold from the table.

You didn’t respond, only brushed past him to get to the head of the table.

You placed the white ball on the felt and aimed your cue stick at it. With a swift hit, it rolled into the middle and knocked the colored balls on the table in all directions. Luckily, an orange ball rolled into the far left pocket, making you and Harry the solid team.

You went for another, but missed. Harry clapped you on the back anyway, clearly impressed you had scored any points at all.

“Nice, y/n,” Harrison complimented once your turn was over, but you ignored him.

“Mate, whose team are you on?” Tom asked with a nudge to Harrison. He shrugged defensively and pushed Tom back, signaling to him that it was his turn.

Tom rolled his head and shoulders dramatically as he approached the corner where the white ball sat. He angled himself loosely, but purposefully in front of it and wasted no time sending it colliding into a ball with a green stripe. Everyone held their breath as it rolled toward the same pocket yours had gone into and you exhaled in defeat when it tipped over the edge and into the woven net.

The whole game was like that, one shot after another, a point and then a miss, making it a close game the whole time. You could hold your own, but the boys had been in plenty more bars than you had and you were all varying levels of drunk, with you on the tipsier side. Everyone was joking and talking shit about each other and somewhere in the middle of the game you actually started to have fun again. You got to show off a trick move your dad had taught you when you were first learning that had them losing their shit, begging you to do it again with their phones out and pointed at you.

Somehow you and Harry pulled it off with you scoring double points towards the very end and him finishing it off with the eight ball on his next turn.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” you said, pointing at Harry after he’d had taken a victory lap around the table.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he apologized with admittance.

“You should be I just kicked all of your asses and I can do it again,” you declared, not hearing how your words were starting to slur.

“You did not we were tied for most of it,” Tom argued. “And I’m drunk.”

“We’re all drunk,” you corrected him. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Accept your loss with dignity, mate,” Harry smirked and tipped his glass back, draining the remainder of beer from it.

“I’m impressed with your skills, y/n,” Harrison said, holding out his hand for a shake. “Good game.”

You just looked at his hand out in front of you. “I’m also good at skeeball.”

The next few days in Italy passed without much incident. There was still chatter on set about your mistake with the headset, which you always double checked was off now, which you probably should have been doing before. You didn’t even talk over headset that often and after yesterday you wanted to use it as little as possible. You were worried that as soon as it cut off whoever was on the other side of the line would just start talking about you, but it wasn’t like there was anything you could do about it.

You never heard about it from anyone above you, though. None of your bosses on set or back at HQ ever contacted you about anything out of the ordinary, so at least you still had a job. It was probably too awkward for anyone to bring up, which was equally as horrifying as it was relieving.

Every time Tom came up to you you were sure he was going to say something to you about the dream, but everyone was being surprisingly tight-lipped about the whole ordeal, which was unusual for the film industry.

Most of the cast apart from Tom and Jake Gyllenhaal left two days before the crew, getting a few days off before they were due in New York. As much as you missed all the horrible fast food there you weren’t as excited to go back to the States as you thought you’d be, even though it meant you were one step closer to this job being over.

You spent the morning of the last day in Venice packing most of your things so you wouldn’t have to do it ridiculously early tomorrow. Tom’s stuff was still absolutely everywhere, he had yet to pack any of it, and you wondered how this boy managed to get anywhere without losing half of his stuff. You were tempted to start doing the packing for him, but knew he’d only be pissed if you did. He was one of those people who believed that every thing had its place and you knew you’d get it wrong if you tried. Plus, things had been going well between the two of you the past few days and you didn’t want to ruin that by letting your handler side get the better of you.

You were almost out the door to meet everyone downstairs for the day when you got a message from Tom, asking you to approve an Instagram post for his feed. You smiled to yourself when you saw it was the picture you’d taken of him that night before dinner. It had only barely been touched by a filter, making the whole picture a little brighter. You liked the way it made his eyes look, and you liked the fact that he had been looking at you.

He’d tagged Harry in the picture and the caption, since he couldn’t tag you of course (he didn’t even follow you) which you thought was a little overkill, but you sent him an approval message anyway since you were running late and everything else looked fine.

When Watts called wrap at the end of the day it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to get back to the room and just read for the rest of the night. Maybe order room service.

Everyone clapped like they did when it was a full wrap day since production was moving to a new location and you usually didn’t like to glorify the actors more than they already were, but you joined in, clapping for yourself since you had made it so far, and through so much.

As soon as you were curled up on your side of the bed with your book Tom came crashing into the room from where ever he had just been bursting with energy. He rambled to you about dinner with Watts and Jake and how he and the boys were going to go up to the pool on the roof to go night swimming and about the flight the next day and everything in between.You were only able to follow about half of it, nodding where you thought was appropriate and working in ‘uh huhs’ when you had the energy..

It wasn’t Tom’s fault that his presence commanded so much attention, but you wished that at least once he could walk into a room without captivating everything and everyone in it.

“You should come to the pool with us,” Tom said, popping his head out of the bathroom where he’d been talking to you from.

“Isn’t it cold?”

“It’s a heated pool.”

You shook your head with uncertainty. “My swimsuit is at the bottom of my suitcase,” you protested.

“Come on, it’s our last night in Italy. Don’t you want to make some memories? It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You scrunched up your face, and Tom smirked because he knew you couldn’t say no to him, boss or not. “Fine.” His face lit up with victory. “I’ll meet you up there.”

You stood from the bed with a sigh one the door had shut behind Tom. Digging through your suitcase was even more difficult than you thought it’d be, and clothes were all over the floor once you found your bikini.

Putting it on was a chore as well because as much as you liked the print and color of it, it had taken you a long time to feel comfortable in a swimsuit, and sometimes it was still difficult to shrug off the insecurities that prickled in the back of your mind.

You took one of the clean towels from the bathroom and wrapped it around your body, hoping you wouldn’t run into any other guests in the hall on your way upstairs. Since the pool was only one floor up, you took the stairs, bracing yourself for the crowd of people sure to be out there. It was empty, aside from the boys who were already in the pool, batting around some sort of sports ball.

What you hadn’t been prepared for, though, was the view, and the chill. You wrapped your towel tighter around you, not sure if it would do any good, and took a step closer to the railing. The boys had yet to notice you and you took the opportunity to admire your surroundings. As much as you were relieved to be leaving the city tomorrow, you couldn’t deny that Venice was beautiful, especially at night. Small clusters of stars twinkled around the sky, and the moon hung low, partially hidden behind some distant buildings.

It was mostly dark, but a few windows were lit from within. You imagined parents tucking their children into bed who had stayed up past their bedtime, friends pouring themselves another glass of wine, and lovers putting on an old record and swaying to the rhythm until the needle reached the center.

“Y/n, you made it!” Harrison’s familiar voice called from behind you, and you turned, ripping yourself away from the city and all it’s untold stories.

“I did,” you said awkwardly and cleared your throat. The boys were clearly waiting for you to join them, but you were still standing off to the side with a towel wrapped around your body.

As quickly as humanly possible you unwrapped the towel from yourself unceremoniously and dropped it onto an adjacent pool chair. You felt pairs of eyes taking over your body, but you weren’t sure who they belonged to.

Not bothering to prolong what was already a painful process, you stepped down into the water until you were level with the rest of them, meeting eyes with Tom, waiting for him to take the lead.

He hesitated. You realized that for once the positions of power had been switched and instead of you being the one to tell him what to do, he was going to be telling you. You hoped the power wouldn’t go to his head.

“What about Marco Polo?” he suggested and everyone kind of rolled their eyes. “Anyone got any better ideas?”

No one did, so Marco Polo it was. Tom was it first since he had suggested it and everyone spread out as far as they could across the length of the pool. It wasn’t very big, which made the game pretty easy.

Tom’s arms weren’t very long, but he was fast and before you knew it his fingers were brushing your bare side signaling that it was your turn.

You weren’t as talented as Tom was. Your round took considerably longer than his had, and you spent a lot of time splashing around aimlessly, trying to ignore Harry’s laughter in the background. You wanted to get Tom back for tagging you, but ended up all but tackling Harrison into the water on accident. Either way, your turn was over.

You opened your eyes to find yourself clinging to Harrison’s back like a koala. Sheepishly, you detached yourself from his body and pushed back the hair that had gotten into your face.

“All you had to do was tag me, y/n,” he said, grinning and you shrugged apologetically.

“Just wanted to make sure I got you.”

The game went on for longer than you thought it would, and as it went on you got progressively more competitive. You pushed and shoved your way through the other boys to avoid being it again, and you had a pretty good streak going until Harrison got you back by accidentally backhanding you lightly across the face during his turn.

He opened his eyes with horror. “I’m so sorry I thought I was going for Tom’s shoulder!”

You touched your face gently where it still stung from the impact. “Right,” you joked, but stopped mid-sentence when you realized how bad he really felt about it. “Hey it’s fine, it was an accident.”

“I hit you.”

“We were playing around, I tackled you earlier it’s okay, really.”

Harrison reluctantly agreed, but you all moved on to a different game after that. Harry brought out a football for the four of you to toss around and that’s what you did until Haz decided to call it. He gave some excuse about getting up early for the flight tomorrow and hopped out of the water without further explanation. You knew he still felt shitty about what had happened during Marco Polo, but you didn’t know what to do to make him feel better.

Harry went with him since they were sharing a room, leaving you and Tom alone in the pool tossing the football back and forth. You figured you’d just go back to the room whenever Tom was ready since you wouldn’t be able to sleep until he was back anyway.

“What's your middle name?” Tom asked, breaking the silence that had hung in the air since the other two had left.

You struggled not to laugh. “What? Why?”

“I told you the other night, I don’t know anything about you. This is me trying to learn.”

“Well it sounds like you’re trying to steal my identity.”

He shrugged. “Added bonus.”

“It’s y/m/n, but I’m pretty sure Tom Holland doesn’t need a social security number from someone like me.”

“Maybe not, but I hear American passports are very valuable.” He tossed the football back to you. “Don’t you want to know my middle name?”

“Isn’t it Stanley?” you asked and he frowned. “I sign so many papers with your legal name on it, you shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You’re right.”

“When am I not?” You quirked an eyebrow and Tom retaliated by throwing the football further than you could reach on purpose, sending it rolling onto the deck underneath the lounge chairs.

The ball was neglected to be found as Tom continued to pester you with more questions. You humored him and answered them all, telling him about your parents, hometown, college, and how your record for shotgunnning a beer was four seconds.

He listened to everything quietly, only stopping you to boast about his two and a half second shotgun record.

You never thought you’d be having this conversation with Tom Holland of all people, yet here you were, trading stories about near alcohol poisoning under the night sky on the roof of a hotel.

“Guess no one else wants to swim tonight,” you commented offhandedly, glancing around the pool area that had been empty all night.

“Oh, the pool’s been closed since eleven.”

“What?”

this probably has hella typos but i’m so tired. smut next week!! sorry again for all the confustion. lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom #tommy #woko #were only kidding ourselves #tom holland x y/n #x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic

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puckinghell · 6 years ago

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Falling | Carter Hart

Summary: While Carter Hart tries to teach your 2nd grade class how to skate, you try not to fall... flat on your face, or, for him. Words: 2292 of 7433 Note: The request was for 1 imagine but I accidentally came up with a 3 part series... This is part 2. Read part 1 here.

The music is loud, way too loud, to even hear a single word of what your roommate Bella is saying. To be fair, it’s probably not very interesting anyway, cause she’s on one of her drunk rambles about her on again off again boyfriend, that didn’t text her back yesterday.

You hadn’t really wanted to go out tonight. Work had been a disaster today, with Fern throwing up and Rachel trying to drink finger paint.

At 7 years old, you’d figured they’d be over that, but you’d clearly been wrong.

But Bella had insisted, and eventually, you’d given in. Mostly because she started talking about you needing to get laid to get over Carter, which was ridiculous, cause you weren’t even into Carter.

Sure, you’d started watching Flyers games, but that was just cause you were getting into hockey. Not the #79 goalie that you definitely did not watch all postgame interviews of, that’s for sure.

“Are you even listening to me?” Bella yells then, and you blink a few times.

“Huh?”

“I said, if James shows up, I’m not talking to him! I’m not even gonna give him the light of day.”

You nod, but you’re not expecting that attitude to last very long. Bella is a beautiful girl, and she has many guys that would love to take her out, but she always goes back to James, who’s a no-good lowlife that is wasting her precious time. You’ve told her, time and time again, to just go for one of the guys that line up for her attention, but she always ends up back in the same place.

You wish you got that kinda attention from guys, but then again, you don’t look like Bella. She’s slim, with legs going on for days, long blonde hair and to top it of, she’s ridiculously charming.

You’re, well, you. A short, stubby girl who gets on with kids better than she does with guys her own age. Normally, you’re not really bothered about your appearance, but you can’t help but wonder, if maybe you looked a little more like Bella, a guy like Carter would look at you differently.

“Where is your mind, Y/N?” Bella says at that moment, frowning at you. “You’re literally not reacting to anything I say.”

You sigh. “Sorry, Bella. What were you saying?”

Bella rolls her eyes, then sits up straighter and points to the corner. “I said, a couple cute guys just walked in, and I wanna know which one you’re shotgunning so I can go for one of the others.”

Highly doubting you’re gonna be interested in any of them, you turn around in the direction she’d been pointing, and as soon as your eyes catch the group of guys that just came in, you feel the blood drain from your face.

You’ve only been watching hockey for a week, but you’d gotten to know the Flyers pretty well, and you know two of those guys. That’s Nolan Patrick and Travis Konecny, walking into your bar. Would that mean…?

You search the rest of the bar, but Carter is nowhere to be seen. You can’t help but be disappointed, but then again, that would’ve been too good to be true.

“I’m not interested, you go for whoever,” you tell Bella, slamming back your vodka soda. “I might go home in a bit.”

Suddenly, you notice Bella’s eyes widen, and then a wicked smile crosses her face. “No, you’re not,” she says, and just when you’re about to ask her what the hell she’s talking about, she speaks again. “Hello, cute boy.”

“Uhm, hey?” The voice sounds unsure and is hard to hear over the music, but you recognize it any way, and turn around so fast you nearly topple off your barstool.

“Carter?”

Catching your eyes, some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he smiles. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Oh, hi.” You narrow your eyes. “You’re not legally allowed to be here.”

“God, Y/N,” Bella brings out in horror, but Carter just laughs.

“Are you supposed to be here?”

“I’m 21.”

“I’m with them.” Carter motions to Nolan and Travis and some of the other guys, and you figure that would get him into any bar he’d like to get into. Plus, well, he’s Carter Hart. He can probably do whatever he wants anyway. He casually leans up against the bar, points at your empty glass. “What were you drinking?”

You can’t help but laugh. “You’re not gonna be able to buy me one. Vodka soda.”

Now, his eyes are glistening with mischief. “Wanna bet?”

A little apprehensively, you nod. “On what?”

Carter seems to think about it, but then Bella pipes up. “If he wins, you can’t go home until I say you can go home!”

That will probably be at 6 in the morning, so you aren’t particularly keen on that bet, but Carter has already agreed and is waving over the bartender.

“Hey, man,” he says lightly, and you can almost see the moment recognition hits the bartender.

“Oh, dude, big fan!” he brings out, and that’s the moment you lose the bet. “What can I get you? On the house, dude, thanks for keeping the Flyers in the race.”

“Thank you, that’s so nice of you,” Carter smiles. “Can I have a vodka soda and a lemon tonic?” Of course, the bartender gets his drinks without hesitation, and a smug smile occupies Carter’s face when he pushes the vodka soda towards you. “Told you so.”

“Nobody likes a bad winner,” you grumble, taking a sip of your drink, and Bella claps her hands in excitement.

“That means you’ve got to stay!” She hops off her barstool. “You remember that bet, lady. I’m gonna go talk to your friend’s friends over there.” She confidently walks over to Travis and Nolan, and you shoot Carter a look.

“Does she have a shot, or should I be a good friend and go save her?” you ask him, and he laughs.

“I’d say she has as good a shot with them as anyone. And besides, they’re good guys. She’ll have a fun night either way.” He sends you a lopsided smile, and you feel your heart speed up.

Stupid heart.

“Besides, if she’s there, you’re kinda forced to hang out with me, and I like that.”

As if you need to be forced into that.

“Now, tell me,” he continues. “If you’re 21, how are you a teacher?”

“I’m not. I’m an intern at the school, and I was just accompanying the class to their field trip because their teacher was ill.”

“So you’re not the brilliant mind that made them write me those cute letters, huh?” He’s smiling at the memory, and you notice once again how nice his smile is; it lights up his face and washes a wave of calm through your body.

“Nope, but I helped the kids write them. They were cute, no?”

Carter seems to ponder for a second, before speaking again. “Moving to a new city, away from your family and friends, is always hard, and combining that with the pressure of wanting to perform well and give my team a chance to win, it was a hard first few weeks here in Philly. Those letters honestly came at the best time. I needed a pick me up, and they made me so happy.” There’s something vulnerable in the way he speaks, and you want to reach out and hug him. You haven’t quite consumed enough alcohol to be that bold, but you’ve definitely consumed enough to do something you wouldn’t normally do, so you reach out and quickly squeeze his hand.

“That sounds like it sucks,” you tell him truthfully, and he smiles at you.

“Not really. It’s been a dream come true. Just, all roses have thorns, you know? Sometimes you need to be reminded of the good parts of something.”

The fact that he hasn’t yanked his hand away from you gives you a boost of confidence and conversation flows easily after that, and somehow, your glass always seems to remain full. You hadn’t been planning to get drunk, but at the end of the night you nearly fall over when you get off your barstool, falling into Carter’s strong chest.

“You keep falling for me, huh?” Carter grins, locking his hands around your elbows to keep you steady. Of course, he hasn’t been drinking, and he’s infuriatingly sober, and infuriatingly handsome in the dim light of the bar.

“It’s not my fault I’m clumsy,” you tell him, and you don’t miss the irony of his statement. If only he knew how many times you’ve thought about kissing him, in the two hours that you’ve been talking, he wouldn’t joke about that. “I’m gonna find Bella, I don’t care about her stupid bet, I need to go home.”

If it was possible, you’d stay there all night, talking to Carter, but you’re drunk and tired and you have a feeling if you stay any longer, you’re just going to embarrass yourself more than you already have, and you’re gonna have to face him at school in a few days.

Carter seems to think about something for a while, but his hands don’t let go of your arms, so you just stand there and wait for him to speak.

“Can I bring you home?” he says finally.

Now, despite your worries, the prospect of getting a little more time with him has you smiling so big your cheeks hurt. “I’d love that,” you say. “Let me find Bella to tell her I’m leaving.”

After finding your roommate and telling her that yes, Carter was bringing you home, but no, it wasn’t like that, you leave the bar behind. Carter’s hand is warm on the small of your back and you’re not sure if he’s touching you because he wants to or because he’s worried you’ll fall on your face, but either way you’re not complaining and you mourn the loss of contact when he helps you into his car.

You watch his side profile as he drives, leaning your head back against the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with driving my drunk ass home,” you mumble softly.

He laughs. “Don’t worry about it. You’re much better company than the boys. I’m kinda the default designated driver with them, cause I can’t drink anyway.”

You notice the compliment, feel yourself blushing, but try to ignore it. “That must be annoying.”

Carter shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m assuming they’ll return the favor when I’m 21.” Then, he seems to think about something. “Except Nolan. He’s a horrible driver, I’d much rather get an Uber.”

You laugh at that. “Tell me more about the team.”

And so, he does. He talks, and it’s comfortable and just nice, and way too soon he’s parking in front of your apartment and you’re taking your house keys out of your jacket.

You would ask him to come in, but you’re pretty sure that’s against some kind of contract you signed when you accepted the internship.

“Let me walk you to the door,” Carter offers, and somehow he manages to get out of the car and around to open your car door before you’ve even managed to reach for the handle.

You giggle, as you take his hand and let him help you out of the car. “Afraid I’ll fall again?”

“Nope,” he says, and he sounds honest and not ashamed at all, as he continues: “Just wanna spend as much time with you as possible.”

Your face surely is on fire, and you can’t help but stop him before you reach your front door. “Carter, I…” When you started speaking, you were fully intend on telling him that you have to remain professional, with him scheduled to go back to school to teach the kids a PE class, but now he’s staring at you intently with those big blue eyes and you don’t even remember how to talk, let alone what you were going to say.

“Yes, Y/N?” he mimics your tone of voice, and his lips curl into a lopsided smile. He almost looks like he knows what you were going to say, and knows also that just his eyes staring into yours was enough to completely derail your trail of thought, and it’s for some reason the most amusing thing to him that you can’t think straight when he’s near.

And, maybe it’s because you’re drunk or maybe it’s because you’re so, so weak for him, but suddenly you find yourself stumbling forward. He catches you easily, circling his arms around your waist, as if this is something he’s been doing for years, and then his lips are on yours and the feeling is dizzying, the rest of the world completely fading away.

It’s maybe the best kiss you’ve ever had, and yet, as soon as he pulls away, all the thoughts from before come back in 100 miles an hour, and you step back.

“I’m sorry,” you croak out, and his smile immediately fades, a frown appearing in return. “But we probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” he questions, trying to reach out to you, but you take another step back. “Cause, you’re gonna work with the kids, and it’s not professional, and I could lose my internship if they found out, and…”

“Wait,” Carter interrupts. “I wasn’t aware this wasn’t allowed?”

You swallow thickly, trying to regain your composure. You’re not technically sure it’s not allowed, and deep in your heart, you know losing your internship isn’t really what you’re scared of.

Guys like Carter just don’t go for girls like you, and you’re scared of getting hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper again. To Carter’s credit, he takes it in stride, and sighs, before nodding.

“Okay,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at school, then?”

You nod, and watch as he sends you another weak smile, then stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks down your driveway, back to his car.

You’d known you were going down a treacherous slope with this one, but you hadn’t expected falling would hurt this much, this soon.

#carter hart #carter hart imagine #carter hart one shot #carter hart fic #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl fic #hockey one shot #hockey imagine #hockey fic #philadephia flyers #philadephia flyers imagine #philadelphia flyers one shot #philadephia flyers fic

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batmanarkhamidiot · 6 years ago

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Party For None

@onefunnyshadow

Word Count: 2,273

Fandom: Scream

Description: You end up going out to a Halloween party when your boyfriends don’t come back from the store, which leads to a chance encounter with Woodboro’s favourite killer. (I apologize, I know the story probably didn’t turn out very well)

You found out that your boyfriends were the Woodsboro killers on a dark, misty October evening. Halloween night, to be exact. They had gone out ‘shopping’, which you highly doubted since shopping usually didn’t take this long, but you chose to ignore it since you figured they’d tell you what they were doing eventually. Besides, you trusted them to not be cheating on you. You were definitely confused though, since it was Halloween and usually that entailed watching slasher movies on Stu’s couch all curled up together feeding each other the creepy candy eyeballs and sucking on cherry-filled ‘bloody’ vampire fangs, but they had promised they’d be back soon to do exactly that. That was an hour ago. The grocery store was a ten minute walk, and last time you checked, your grocery list only had like five things on it. Whatever. They probably got distracted and didn’t realize how much time had passed.

You bury yourself in some of the blankets you dragged out from Stu’s room and just lay there, barely even paying any attention to whatever it was that Jamie Lee Curtis’s character was doing on screen. You were just barely clinging onto reality, tendrils of sleep gently pulling you down into what would likely have been a blissful dream, when the phone rang. You grumble as you’re startled awake, and trudge to the kitchen reluctantly. Once you get there, you stare at the ringing phone, unsure of whether or not to answer it because whoever’s calling was probably trying to ring Stu and therefore the call is none of your business. But then again, the boys had you give your friends their numbers in case there was an emergency and they weren’t aware of it or anything like that, and your friends knew you’d be here tonight, so you didn’t want to ignore the call in case it turned out to be one of them. You sigh and pick up the phone.

“Hello?” You cringe at how sleep-laced your voice is, but hey, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it.

“Heyyyyyyy! I figured you’d pick up the phone. Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to let you know that everyone’s gonna go over to Chad’s house tonight since apparently he’s throwing a wicked party and if you and your boy-toys wanna come we could totally hang out there. Ya know? Down a few beers, play a few games, get totally trashed and pass out on the hardwood floor like last time…”

You let yourself relax when you realize it’s just your friend Stephanie. She sounds ‘totally trashed’ already, and you consider telling her to lay off the alcohol, but you know she’ll just whine, promise to stop, and then continue drinking the minute you leave, so you think better of it. You’ll still keep an eye on her though if you do decide to join her at the party. You keep her on the line for a few more minutes, just chatting about anything and everything that comes to mind, before eventually she says she’s gotta go and that she hopes she sees you tonight.

You walk back over to your nest on the couch and give it a longing look, tempted to just burrow back in and rest until Billy and Stu come home and wake you up. It’d be nice to just sleep for a bit. But Stephanie did go out of her way to invite you to Chad’s party, so you might as well show up, even if it’s just for a little bit. You’re not exactly planning on getting drunk or anything tonight, because you want to actually be awake when your boyfriends get home, but there’s still fun to be had. You throw on the Halloween costume hidden in an overlooked corner of Stu’s closet (you wanted it to be a surprise), leave a note saying where you’re going on the fridge, and hope that the boys won’t be too upset with you for going out without them.

You don’t own a car, and you know the chances of one of your friends being able to give you a ride are slim to none, so you end up having to grab your board from the garage. While you’re still there, you take a moment to just sit on the cold floor and think about the situation you’re in. You have no idea when the boys will be coming back, if they come back, so why should you miss out on all the fun? You wish they would’ve at least called you to let you know they’d be late, but it’s been nothing but radio silence from the both of them. You find yourself growing angry, but not with them. Maybe you’re the problem. Maybe you pushed them away. A part of you knows that can’t possibly be true, all three of you have pretty much always been happy with each other, but you’re so worked up over them ditching the most important event of the year to understand the logical explanations. Screw it, you’re going out. You head back into the house with your board and take one last look at yourself in the mirror. Damn, you look great. The boys have no idea what they’re missing. You smile and head out the front door.

It takes quite a while to get to Chad’s house. You’re still tired, and that’s led to a few tumbles off your board, but you managed not to sustain any serious injuries. You also kept getting lost, because you couldn’t remember exactly what street he lived down. Eventually, though, you spot Stephanie’s car parked at the corner of Maple and Birch, and immediately head down Birch Street. It’s easy to find the house from there; nobody’s really being subtle about the party, which you find to be very idiotic because you’re literally all underage and you’d prefer not to get arrested due to other people’s stupidity. You hide your board behind a bush in Chad’s front yard and hope nobody pees in that bush or anything like that, and then enter the house through the garage.

The first thing that comes to mind when you enter the house is how loud it is. The awful music and the many conversations happening between partygoers have combined to make a cacophony of noise that leaves you questioning why you came here in the first place, especially considering that you’re not really a fan of social events. You’re tempted to turn back around and bolt out the door, but you feel like you’d be betraying Stephanie if you left before even saying hi to her. You push on through the main room, where everybody’s drinking and dancing and just being… too much for you to handle, and make your way down to the basement, where you figure Stephanie and the others will be hanging out. That’s usually where you all end up when you’re at Chad’s place, since a lot of the other people at his parties don’t know where the entrance to the basement is, so it’s usually pretty empty and you don’t have to deal with the noise and the crowd and all that fun stuff. You quietly descend the steps down to the basement and feel a wave of relief wash over you when you hear Stephanie’s voice from where you’re standing, but when you realize what she’s saying you pause for a moment, listening very carefully to exactly what she’s saying.

“Where are they anyways? I invited them to come over like half an hour ago, did they not come with you guys?” She asks, and you remain silent on the basement stairs, waiting for whoever she’s chatting with to answer. You can’t see who’s in the room because you’re only halfway down the steps, but you have a suspicion as to who they are, since there’s only two people in the town you would’ve possibly come with. The idea of either of your boyfriends being here right now doesn’t seem likely, but who else could it possibly be? Your suspicions are confirmed a moment later, when you hear Billy answer that question with some bullshit story about how you’re not feeling well and decided to stay home.

You’re angry, sad, and confused, all at the same time. You can’t bring yourself to go down there now, so instead you slink silently back up the stairs, holding back tears. Once you get back into Chad’s storage room, you bolt from the house, heading to a more secluded area of the backyard. The only person you can see over there is Steph’s girlfriend, Annie. She’s sitting down cross-legged by the trash cans, smoking, and you hope you’re not bothering her by walking over there. She looks up at you in confusion, and you realize that she probably doesn’t recognize you since you’re wearing a mask, so you tear it off and throw it violently against one of the trash cans. It cracks in a few places, but you can’t find it within you to care anymore.

Annie looks you over, and when she realizes you’ve been crying, she puts out her cigarette and holds out her arms, offering you comfort. You drop to the ground next to her and bury your face in her denim jacket, letting out an ugly sob you’ve been holding back. She doesn’t seem to mind you getting tears all over her nice jacket, and instead wraps her arms around you and rubs your back, letting you cry until you finally feel calm enough to explain to her what happened. The next few minutes are a flurry of shaking hands as you try to sign to her the whole story. Despite how badly your hands are shaking, and how little of sign language you know, you manage to eventually get the point across. She seems sympathetic, and lets you sit with her as you try and figure out how to confront Billy and Stu about this. She helps fix up your outfit, and even retrieves your mask from the nearby pile of dirt so that you can put it back on. Wouldn’t want your boyfriends to realize you’re here, would you?

You and Annie sit like that for a long time until you finally drag yourself off of the ground to get yourself a drink. It takes you a second to find a cooler because the lighting in the backyard isn’t very good and the cooler was apparently hidden in the shadows over by Chad’s mother’s garden. You hum to yourself as you pick out a drink, and then grab one for Annie too because you’re not sure if she’s thirsty or not. If not, you can always return the drink to where you got it. However, when you turn back to walk over to you and Annie’s corner, you notice another person over there with her. You figure it’s one of her friends, and quickly grab another drink from the cooler for them, just in case. It doesn’t take you very long to realize something’s wrong, however. As you get closer to your hangout spot, you notice the silhouette of a knife in the other person’s hand, and then how Annie’s suddenly on the ground when she wasn’t a few minutes ago. The other figure hasn’t noticed you yet, they’re facing Annie and you’re very quiet when you want to be. Of course, your luck immediately turns sour, as one of the drinks you’re holding slips from your grasp and shatters.

The dark figure turns towards you, and you realize with an increasing sense of panic that this is the killer that’s been tormenting Woodsboro. You turn and take off running. You don’t want to die before you have a chance to work things out with your boyfriends; you can’t let your last memory of them be a horrible one. You’re not running very fast however, since you let Annie convince you to drink away the pain and goddammit this is the worst situation you could possibly be drunk in. It doesn’t take long for the killer to catch you since you keep stumbling over your own two feet in your drunken state. They grab you by the shoulder, turning you around roughly so that they can witness the look on your face when they stab you, when they realize you’re wearing a mask. They rip the mask from your face, ready to go in for the kill, but the minute they get a good look at you they stop dead in their tracks and drop the knife.

You’re suddenly extremely confused, because what the actual fuck? Last time you checked, you were nobody important, and most killers don’t normally just drop their knives on the ground where their victim can easily grab it. You wish you had just stayed home, then none of this would have ever happened. The killer suddenly reached to take off their own mask, and once they did, everything made sense. Because looking back at you is Billy, and you’re sure that by that logic Stu is probably lurking in the shadows nearby. You don’t get the chance to find out, though, because that’s when you finally faint from the shock of everything. Your body never hits the ground, Billy reaching out to catch you just before you hit the ground.

Eventually you’ll all work things out, and you’ll come to realize the benefits of having boyfriends who just so happen to be killers, but for now they’ll just carry you home and hope that eventually you’ll forgive them for almost killing you.

#scream #x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface #fanfic #horror

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seancekitsch · 6 years ago

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From Her to Eternity: Billy Bennett x Reader

A/N: this is me drinking 9.5% beers and being weak for punk boys churning out self indulgent bullshit, but that’s also like.... most of my writing anyway.

-“So what, did Y/N leave you for Lex or something?” Willie asks in the parking lot of Creepy Daniels. Billy’s been looking for you, but he figured you went off with Saya and Maria. The confused look on his face tells Willie he has no idea what he’s talking about.

“I mean, at that party y’all were all over each other, but she’s been with Lex pretty much every minute since. They’re starting to look like King’s Dominions own Sid and Nancy.” He was right about that. With your wild curls and Lex’s spiky hair, you definitely resembled the doomed couple.

-“No she didn’t- I mean, it’s not like that. We aren’t, we weren’t together.” People thought the two of you were together? I mean sure, you slept in the same bed most nights because you were too lazy to walk back to your own rooms, and you made each other mix tapes. But isn’t that what all best friends do?

-He had honestly been confused where he stood with you the past few days. He remembered being drunk, and making out with you, and then you getting mad and you had been avoiding him like the plague since. But now you were on this trip to help him murder his father, and you weren’t speaking or looking at him. Honestly, he didn’t remember why you were mad at him.

-“Man really? We all thought you were kinda good together.” Willie says, and he leaves it at that. He walks off to find Marcus or the girls.

-Billy doesn’t know why, but that stirs some kind of sadness in him.

-Meanwhile you’re in the bathroom, seated at the counter with your dirty doc martens in the sink and your skirt hunched up at your upper thighs. You’re watching Maria and Saya snort coke. They offered you some, but you prefer Valium to the speed. They’ve been asking about the exact same thing as Willie. Except on your end, you hadn’t been too drunk to remember. They’re listening as they rail lines. Asking questions as they cut up more.

-The night of the party, Billy and you had a drinking competition of sorts on the couch. You played a vicious game where you’d make accusations at each other, and if they were true you’d take a sip. He had accused you of being a kleptomaniac in middle school, secretly taking vocal lessons, and making counterfeit tickets to see the Birthday Party play last year downtown... all true. You had accused him of lying about how much he smoked, of preferring burgers to pizza, and secretly being a cyndi lauper fan... all true as well. And when you accused him of having a crush on someone, he also took a sip. So fifteen minutes later when you’re hot and heavy straddling each other, hands tugging at each other’s hair, moaning and tonguing each other’s throats... you definitely assumed his crush was on you.

-But when you pulled away, you noticed his eyes looking above you. Following his gaze, you see he’s been staring at Petra and Victor readjusting their clothing. You knew they flirted, but did you misread this? Even worse, were you just a rebound for the guy you definitely loved? You felt instantly sick to your stomach.

-“is that a fucking joke?” You scoff. Your anger is spiking and his confusion is rising. “Am i just some rebound?” You’re not going to stick around and take this. Even worse, you fear that any emotion besides anger will start to show itself. You get up from the couch, prepared to get the fuck away as fast as possible.

-He grabs your hand as you pull away, and you snap.

“You will NEVER fucking touch me again. Got it?” You hiss as you rip yourself from his grasp and and turn on your heel to leave the party as soon as possible.

-And that’s when you found Lex. He left the party as well, and the two of you swapped flasks in the graveyard. He listened to you scream about your anger and hurt, and just cheers’d you whenever it felt appropriate.

-And despite what people might think, you would never touch Lex. He was your friend, but in that way that you also thought he was a total piece of shit. He was just the only one who knew what was going on with you so you had a bit of an understanding at the moment.

-Saya’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. “So you’re here to what, show moral support to the guy that broke your heart? Or is there some other motive?”

-“ Moral support I guess. I’m mad, but I still know how much this means to him.”

-“Just DONT let him off easy. Make him work back into your good graces.” Maria chimes in. But did you even want him in your good graces again? You didn’t know if you could have him back the way it was again. You’d want all or nothing, and really how could you see anything with him now, after he hurt you like that? He embarrassed you, even if you were the only one who actually knew about the extent of it.

-You just nod, and stay quiet as you wait for them to finish.

-When you Meet back up at the car, you quickly realize that you and billy are the only ones not tripping your faces off. You’re happily so numb that you’re only speaking in your bad Jean Claude Van Damme impression and you keep running your fingers along the skin of your face and neck to try to feel something. You take a seat in the back, but you notice Billy’s eyes seem sad each time they look back at you.

-everyone split up at the casino, and you bid farewell to Maria and Saya once you got to the motel. You were hoping you could find some dumb older man to buy you enough drinks that you could stumble back to the hotel and sleep good, maybe not dreaming of Billy for once.

-But commotion from the room two doors down from you stops you from doing any of that. Springing into action, you bust open the door, finding Billy on the ground and Marcus trying, and being overpowered by a man you can only assume is Billy’s father.

-Adrenaline kicks in and you run headfirst into action. You kick and sweep Billy’s Father’s legs from under him, but unfortunately that lands him half on top of you. Forgetting Marcus, he wraps both hands strongly around your throat. He’s squeezing and squeezing, and you think for a second you might die, but as fate would have it you keep your wicked life, and you hear the sickening smack of a skull hitting something blunt.

-While your eyes are open, they don’t focus for a bit. Maybe it’s the drugs, maybe it’s almost being murdered. But when they do, all you see is Billy. His eyes are red and there’s spit drying around his lips. Had he been crying? Did you miss that? But he looks like shit. He looks worried. More worried than you had ever seen him in your life.

-“oh thank god you’re okay. I thought I’d lose you for a second. You’re still here.” He’s barely whispering. Keeping this conversation from Marcus I guess.

-“things we do for love, i fuckin guess.” You mutter, but you don’t dwell on what was apparently your confession. You push yourself up and get out of the room as soon as possible, once again running from Billy Bennett.

-And you’re so ready to just sleep all of this off and hide until it’s time to leave, but once again this plan is foiled as Saya Runs down the hallway, nearly knocking you and a drink you managed to score down. She grabs your arm and tugs, pulling you with her down the hallway shouting something about Marcus and Maria being in trouble. You find them, and Billy and Willie and Chico in the alley.

-Everything happens so fast, and before you can think youre trying to rush in between Billy and Chico, seeing the knife, but Billy blocks you, fully taking the blade of the knife in his side. You’re catching Billy, now with a fresh shallow stab wound in his stomach. You let him down gently, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive. But you know he’ll live. He just... took a knife for you though.

-“I was stupid the other night, right? I should have known better. It’s always been you” Billy wheezes in your lap, and you finally look him in the eye again. You laugh.

-“You have no clue, Bill. No clue.”

——————————————————

-Hes back on his feet by the time your back at King’s Dominion. That backdoor doctor did wonders on all of you and your injuries. You took shotgun next to him, as Marcus sat in the back next to Maria. Every time he thought no one was looking, he’d try to brush his fingers shyly against your skirt or the skin where the slit in your skirt would part.

-The second you’re back at the dorms, he pulls you into his. He seems on edge, but you’re not sure if it’s because of his father or because he wants to say something.

-He chooses not to say anything, instead clumsily smashing his lips against yours not unlike how he did a week ago at the party. This time it feels different, he’s sober and sure of his actions.

-It’s not until he’s kissing a line of hickies down your neck that he finally says something. “tell me how” another one “fucking stupid i was” another one “not to realize it” another one “was you i loved”

-“Are you into that?” You gasp out. “You want me to tell you how fuckin stupid you’ve been?” In response he groans and rips open the clasp of your bra, which was barely a bra in the first place. It was a mess of mesh and a little underwire, stained with his blood. He’s into that, you note. “You were so blind I should have popped out your eyes” maybe that was pushing it now.

-it wasn’t. He responds by grabbing your hips and falling backwards, making sure you land straddling him on the bed behind him. His hands roam up your skirt, bunching it up around your hips as he pulls your center down on to the crotch of his pants, which now feel uncomfortably tight on him.

-“You didn’t even notice when I gave you a sex mixtape.” You meant it to be another insult, but he perks up.

-“One of those is a sexy mixtape?” You nod and he momentarily brings you back to your feet. You whine at the loss of friction and contact. He makes you point out which one it was and once it’s in the tape deck you almost run back to the bed, ditching the skirt and bra along the way, leaving you bare besides your panties and with spread legs on his bed. Strip by Adam Ant is playing through the speaker.

-He audibly moans at the sight and makes quick work of his own clothes. The stitches on his abdomen are bleeding a little from movement, but if he even noticed he didn’t care. He lunges forward and pulls the panties off in one quick motion, very smooth you notice for someone as sexually inexperienced as him.

-Before Hes even taken a seat on the bed, his right hand is between your legs, testing your reactions. You’re already soaked, and that’s reassurance enough for him to plunge two fingers into you. deep. He hovers over you and presses kisses to your jaw and chest and he bleeds onto you a little, but with the way his hands are moving you can’t seem to mind.

-He has you worked up, almost to the point of cumming when he pulls his hand away and leaves you audibly gasping.

-“Billy I know I called you stupid earlier but I need you. I need you to fill me up baby. “ he chuckles and rolls over so that he’s laying next to you.

-“Climb aboard, Y/N” he jokes, and the two of you have to laugh at how cheesy it is. But you still climb aboard anyway.

-sinking down onto him, taking him fully into you feels like a dream. Literally in that you’ve only ever dreamed about and touched yourself to this thought for the past two years. You had always felt guilty waking up next to him after one of these dreams, but now that all seems to fade into the background. You let out moans at the same time once he bottoms out into you, and you test the waters by rolling your hips into his. He hisses through gritted teeth and his hands fly to your hips to control the motion.

-as you ride him he guides your hips down in the perfect angle so your clit drags against him, making you shake and chant his name. Your hands push down on his chest to steady yourself and your fingernails dig into his lean muscles.

-But as you feel yourself fall over the edge, your arms buckle. He grabs you and holds you close, your face now buried into the crook of his neck, perfect for you to leave some hickies of your own. He shifts so that he is now thrusting up into you, keeping you still as you cum around his cock and he seeks his own release. His thrusts speed up, and what was your come down from an orgasm quickly becomes another one. As you clench around him again, he loses control and freezes, feeling himself finish and the two of you shake and gasp for breath.

-He’s ripped a stitch and there’s now quite a bit of blood on the two of you, but neither of you care. He pulls out of you and smiles so wide you think his face will split in half. You match his grin and give him a peck on the nose. The music is forgotten as he reaches over to turn off the lamp, and then pulls the covers over the both of you.

#my work #billy bennett x reader #billy bennett imagine #deadly class imagine #billy bennett headcanon #deadly class headcanon #smut??

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