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qjhughes · 4 years

Text

the weekend

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You get a lot more out of a songwriting session with Harry Styles than you ever bargained for.

Warning(s): cheating, explicit language, suggestive comments (nothing super explicit happens though), angst

A/N: this is a submission for nat’s ( @harrystylescherry ) song fic challenge!! this is based on “The Weekend” by SZA, so i’d recommend listening to that either before or while reading this so you get the gist of what this is about!!!

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You’re nervous.

Should you be? Not really. You’ve written songs with and for hundreds of fantastic artists before, but there’s something about helping Harry Styles write one that has your nerves on end. Maybe it’s his fanbase, how they pick and critique everything to get the full experience. Maybe it’s the expectations of another number one from the next new song. Maybe it’s the way that your sister had sent you text after text freaking out about how good he is at what he does (If he’s so good, why will he even need your help? What if he hates the fact that you’re there and that makes him despise you?). Or maybe, just maybe it’s the way that you run headfirst into him when you walk into the room.

Immediately, there’s a ring clad hand on your shoulder to help steady you. “Are you okay, love?” he asks, British accent thick through his words.

You nod, cheeks burning with the embarrassment of the mishap. At least he doesn’t seem to hate you, though. He seemed pretty chipper, so maybe he just likes to have a new set of eyes and ears every so often to aid in the songwriting process. That thought sets you at ease, and you immerse yourself in the routine of it all.

The entire day goes by faster than you’d like it to, honestly. It’s filled with suggestions, edits, and ideas thrown into the air. It’s all very smooth and you find yourself wishing that you worked with people more like Harry more often. He’s smart and talented but he isn’t stuck up about it. That’s something that you like about him, he knows that he’s capable of doing this but he’s not cocky.

More than once throughout the few hours that you’re around him, you find yourself looking over at his features. Really, how could you not? He’s undeniably attractive, and you’ve never been one to pretend that you don’t see something that you like when you do. As subtly as possible, you sneak glances at him. You admire the way that his cheekbones seem to have a natural highlight even in the dim, buttery light of the room. You take in the way that his curls fall loosely into his face, causing him to haphazardly push them away every few minutes. It’s a bit disturbing to you when you look over at him once and find yourself thinking about how cute the slope of his nose is.

You take it all in, but you don’t let yourself do anything else than that. You know that he has a girlfriend, and you’re not going to actively pursue a taken man. Besides, you’ve seen the girl he’s with, along with the girls that he’s been with and you’re pretty sure that you don’t compare, so even if he were single, you wouldn’t try anything.

Shaking the thought completely from your mind, you focus on the page in front of you and look over at Harry. “What if you just release Medicine? That'll be a number one for sure.”

He laughs, full on cackles at your words. He throws his head back and you can’t help but smile at the sound of his laugh. It takes him a minute for it to die down to giggles soft enough that he can get words out. “Never gonna happen, love.”

You greet your Pomeranian puppy, Daisy, as you walk through the door that night. She runs right towards you and trips on her paws. You chuckle at the memory of the first time that she did that. You were babysitting your niece and Daisy took a tumble and all you heard was an “Oopsie Daisy!” You hadn’t yet named her, so you decided that you could just go with Daisy, especially after she continued to trip all over the place. Picking her up, you make your way to the kitchen to feed her and top off her water bowl. As you’re sitting the bowl down, your phone dings with a notification from an unknown number.

Hey, it’s Harry. I hope it’s okay that I asked Jeff for your number.

You force the butterflies away the moment that they swarm your stomach; you can’t have feelings for a man that’s already in a relationship.

Hey, Harry! It’s completely fine, I don’t mind.

You’re a bit confused as to why Harry asked for your number, but you assume that it’s to ask some questions or tell you something about the song, so you let the thoughts leave your mind and you go back to petting Daisy until you get another text from him.

I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have dinner? At my place?

You’re taken aback for a moment at the suggestion of dinner at his place, but then you realize that it’s probably just a thank you. Chances are that his girlfriend will be there and it will be completely formal. Plus, it’s probably just at his place because if he goes out then he’ll get swarmed by paparazzi and he’d most likely want to avoid that as much as possible.

You mull it over for a few more seconds before deciding that you’ll have dinner with him. There’s no reason for you not to, really.

Yeah, I’d love to! Just let me know when and send me your address!

Locking your phone, you place it on the counter before making your way to the bathroom to take a relaxing shower and then head to bed.

When you step into Harry's house, you’re hit with the overwhelming scent of cashmere and vanilla, and it smells unmistakably like Harry. When he sees you, his eyes take you in, and then he’s smiling. “You look great!” he says before pulling you into a hug that you didn’t expect.

Your cheeks heat up slightly at his words. It’s not like you even tried, honestly. You just threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater before leaving the house. His comment makes you smile, though, so you choose not to say anything about it.

He happily leads you towards the kitchen and you can’t help but let some of his excitement rub off on you. When you step through the threshold to the room, you expect to see his girlfriend sitting there, but instead, you're met with an empty room. He must see you looking around because he speaks up. “Amelia’s in Paris for some fashion show she’s doing.”

“Oh, that’s cool! Which show is it? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” You run your hands along your sides nervously as you wait to see if you’ve crossed a line.

He gives you a small smile before shaking his head. “I would tell you if I knew. She hasn’t talked to me in a few weeks. It’s normally like this before shows. She gets even more distant than normal.” The both of you fall silent for a moment, but then he clears his throat and hands you a plate. “That doesn’t matter though, I wanted to thank you for helping me out today, so I made you pasta.” A warm smile graces your face as you take the plate from him. “You can head into the living room and make yourself comfortable if you want. I’m gonna get some wine. Would you like some?”

You nod and walk to the living room after he goes to get the wine. You do as he said and make yourself comfortable on his plush couch. It’s much softer than you expected it to be when you first saw it, and you’re pleasantly surprised.

Once he returns with two glasses and a bottle of wine, you quickly set your plate down on the wooden coffee table and help him set everything down so that he can go get his food and join you on the couch. You pour the wine into the glasses while he’s getting everything settled.

“Thank you for pouring those, I’m trying to make sure I have everything together, so I probably seem like a chicken with its head cut off.” His cheeks tint a slight pink at the admission and it makes you want to reach out and run your hand over his arm to reassure him that everything is alright, but that’s not something that you can do so you settle for trying to make him feel better with just your words.

“You’re fine, Harry. Honestly, this is a lot better than any other meal that I’ve probably ever had, so you’re doing great.” He gives a grateful smile at your words, and you can’t help but feel relieved that he’s no longer feeling as embarrassed. There’s something about him that makes you want to make sure he’s nothing but happy.

“So,” you say, trying to rid your mind of thoughts like that, “did you like what we came up with today?”

“Yeah, I really did, honestly.” He nods as he takes a bite of his pasta and chews. “I think you’re really talented. The things that you came up with today were absolutely phenomenal.”

You feel your cheeks heating up under his gaze and you try to hide that by taking a drink of your wine, but if his smirk has anything to say about how well you hid it, you failed epically.

“Thank you, I think you’re really talented, too. You’re probably one of the most talented people that I’ve worked with, to be honest. And you’re really nice about it as well.”

“You flatter me.”

“Take the compliment, Styles.” You playfully point your fork at him and he laughs lightly.

“Fine, thank you, Y/N.” You both fall into a comfortable silence before he clears his throat and starts up the conversation again. “Tell me about yourself, wanna know you better.”

There’s an awkward tension in the air as you start telling him about yourself, but as the night goes on, you get more and more relaxed around him. It feels like you’re talking to an old friend, not someone that you just met.

And maybe that’s why you invite him to come hang out at your place sometime soon. After all, you could use another friend.

You’re much less nervous sitting beside him on your couch than you were a week prior on his. After you spent that evening at his house talking to him and getting to know him a bit better, you feel much more relaxed and comfortable around him. It’s a great feeling, really, because now that the awkward tension is out of the way, you can focus on just getting to know him even better.

Harry had suggested takeout for dinner just so it was easy and so you didn’t have to dirty up the kitchen just because he was coming over. You reluctantly agreed, even though you felt a bit bad for not giving him a home cooked meal like he did for you, so now you’re sitting beside him with Chinese takeout containers on the glass coffee table in front of you.

It seems like Harry’s a lot more relaxed as well because since he’s walked through the door, he’s been a bit more touchy than normal. You’ve heard that he’s a pretty touchy person, so you don’t think much of it. You revel in it, really, because he’s a really good hugger. He’s also great at cuddling and hand holding and everything else. There’s a part of you that questions why he’s being so cuddly with you, but you remind yourself repeatedly that it’s just in a platonic way.

Once you’re both finished with your meals, he insists that he’ll clean up, so he takes all of the containers to the trash and washes the forks that were used (the restaurant forgot the plastic ones when it was delivered).

“Hey, Harry?” you call into the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing?” The moment that the words leave your mouth, you know that they were worded wrong, so you rush to fix them. “I mean, I know what we’re doing, but why? Like why did you want to spend more time with me? We didn’t even talk really when we were writing the song, not more than anyone else, at least.”

He comes into the living room with a furrow between his brows. You refuse to make eye contact with him, so your gaze locks on the tea towel that he’s using to dry off his hands. “I just wanted to know you better, I don’t know really. There was just something about you that pulled me towards you and I couldn’t invite you to coffee or something like that as a thank you or a friend date because paparazzi would eat that up and I really don’t want to jeopardize your privacy like that. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way I should have probably eased more into it, that’s my bad—”

“It’s fine, Harry, I was just wondering,” you cut him off, finally meeting his eyes. “People don’t normally invite me to anything even for a thank you after our sessions, so I just wanted to know what caused you to do it.”

��I don’t see how anyone could pass up the opportunity to spend more time with you.” His words make you smile, and you’re suddenly aware of just how much he affects you. It’s a bit ridiculous, really. Nobody should make you care this much about them within three times of being around them.

Standing up off the couch, you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head into his chest. He immediately returns the embrace and you both melt into it like it’s the only thing that either of you needs to be happy.

After a few moments like that, he pulls back slightly and pulls you with him back to the couch. He discards the hand towel onto the coffee table and sits down with his arms outstretched. You climb onto the couch next to him and let him hold you close. “What movie do you want to watch, doll?”

Your heart flutters at the pet name, but you ignore it and just shrug. “I dunno, I’m tired anyway. You pick.”

As soon as he starts the movie, you settle into him further and feel your eyes begin to get a bit heavier. The second that you yawn for the first time, he pulls you closer to him. "Do you wanna take a little nap?” he asks, smoothing your hair down.

You nod, letting your eyes slip closed as you cuddle into him. It’s not really that late. He came over at around four and it hasn't been that long, so you assume it’s good to take a nap. Your naps normally only last for an hour or two anyway, so you’ll be up before the movie is even over.

Right before you drift off into a peaceful slumber, you feel a light kiss being pressed to your forehead. If you were completely lucid, you’d say something about it, but your foggy brain accepts it fully.

When you wake up the next morning, you try to stretch out as you normally would, but there are a pair of arms wrapped around you tight enough to hold you in place. It takes you a moment to realize that Harry’s the one that’s wrapping you up in his warmth. Almost immediately, your eyes widen and a gasp leaves you. Both of you fell asleep on the couch the night prior, which means that he didn’t go home. He didn’t go home to his girlfriend.

“Harry,” you say a little louder than you anticipated as you shake him awake. He groans and pulls you closer to him, groaning for just a bit more sleep, but you continue to shake him. “Wake up, Harry, you need to go home.”

“You’re kicking me out already?” he jokes, smirking slightly. His voice is at least an octave deeper than normal, the gravel in his tone sending a shiver down your spine that absolutely should not be happening. None of this should be happening.

“You need to go home and figure out what to tell your girlfriend about why you didn’t come home last night, Harry.”

He chuckles lightly and waves you off, eyes still closed. “Don’t worry about her, love. She doesn’t live with me. Not really, she just comes over to keep up the image. She won’t care where I am.” Squeezing you to him once again, he lets a content smile form on his face. “Now settle back down and go back to sleep, I’m still tired.”

Reluctantly, you settle into him again, your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, and you allow the soothing rhythm of it to lull you back to sleep.

The next time you wake up, Harry’s not there. The scent of him is still overwhelming and the couch is still warm where he was laying, but he’s not holding you like he was.

Before you can call out to see if he’s still there, he comes walking into the living room with two cups of tea. “I didn’t know if you were more of a coffee or tea type of person, but you had both, so I just made us both tea.” He reaches out the mug to you, and you sit up and take the cup from him.

“Thank you.,” you mumble as you bring the mug to your mouth and take a sip. The warm liquid washes over your taste buds and down your throat and you can’t help but think that this may be the best tea that you’ve ever had. “This is really good.”

“Thanks, my mum taught me how to make it.” You smile at the way his dimples carve into his cheeks when he mentions his mom.

You make light conversation with him, finding it easy to talk about any and everything with him. There’s something about him that soothes the nerves that you’d usually have with someone that you hadn’t known for all that long. There’s just something different between the two of you.

As you’re finishing up your tea, he takes both his own mug as well as yours to the kitchen and washes them before putting them up. When he returns, he leans down and places a friendly, very friendly, kiss to your cheek. “I’ve gotta go, love. Need to get into the studio, yeah?”

You nod, standing up to envelop him in a hug before watching him leave. For some reason, you find yourself longing for him to turn around and walk right back through the door the second that he closes it behind him. You quickly scold yourself for feeling this way, he has a girlfriend, before getting up to go take a shower and get ready for the day.

Three months later, you and Harry are inseparable. Throughout the time that you’ve known each other, you’ve cried in his arms, he’s screamed at the top of his lungs to get his anger out when something with the label isn’t going right, you’ve fallen asleep cuddled into him, and he’s taught you how to cook food that isn’t frozen.

Harry quickly became your best friend, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s the one person in your life that you know you can count on no matter what. He’s also the only person that knows everything about you, just like you know everything about him. Over the past few months, you’ve learned all about him, and it’s just made you fall a bit harder for him every time you think about it.

You know it’s wrong, you do. You shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend, who also happens to have a girlfriend. From what he’s told you, though, she’s not really his girlfriend anymore. Sure, they’re technically together, but she never talks to him unless she needs something or they have to go out to keep up appearances. There used to be something between the two of them, but that quickly changed when things with both of their careers began to pick up. Now it’s like he’s in a relationship with someone that doesn’t even want him.

It doesn’t matter if he’s in a relationship with someone that doesn’t really want him, you can’t be the reason that someone gets their heart broken, you think to yourself for umpteenth time today.

Sighing, you shake yourself from your thoughts and hop off the counter to come stand next to him as he sautés the asparagus. You lean your head on his arm once you come to a stop beside him, and he immediately lifts the arm and pulls you closer to him. You hum contentedly as you inhale the scent of his cologne. The hints of vanilla and sandalwood make your head spin in the most delightful way as you revel in the feeling of being completely enveloped by him.

After a few moments, you look up at him and watch the way that his jaw flexes every so often while he’s concentrating on cooking the asparagus just right. In reality, though, he’s just concentrating on not looking at you because he knows if he does, he’ll end up doing something that he may come to regret.

He doesn’t keep his eyes off of you for long, though, because as soon as he removes the pan from the heat and scoops the asparagus onto its plate, he’s turning slightly so that he can place his hands on your hips and pull you closer.

Your breath catches in your throat as you peer up into his sea glass green eyes and try to figure out what he’s thinking. Before you can say anything, he’s leaning closer to you and there’s a part of you that wants to tell him to stop, to tell him that this is wrong. The bigger part of you, however, is so caught up in the way that his breath feels fanning over your face that you couldn’t even fathom telling him no right now. He pauses for just a second when his nose is rubbing against yours and your breaths mixing together. You’re just about to make a move when he presses his lips to yours and pushes you back until you’re pressed against the counter. The kiss is eager, sloppy, needy. He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you immediately open up for him, letting his tongue dance with yours.

Too soon, you have to pull away to breathe, and Harry mistakes it for you regretting it by the way that you harshly pull your face back. He rubs a hand over his face, “I’m so sorry. Fuck, that was so wrong of me, I don’t know what I was thinking I just don’t know how to act when I’m around you. I should have asked, I shouldn’t have done it at all really. I’m so sorry.”

You inhale sharply before chuckling. “Don’t apologize, H. I didn’t stop you. Fuck, I wouldn’t have stopped you, I just needed to breathe, but are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes. God, yes. I’ve wanted this since the moment you fell asleep in my arms. Probably before that.” With that, you place your hands on either side of his face and pull him closer to you, throwing all caution to the wind as his lips connect with yours.

You pull away from Harry, disconnecting your lips from his. He whines low in his throat as he immediately chases after your lips. You just giggle and shake your head no as he pouts. “We have to talk about what’s going to happen, Harry, “ you reason, and he just sighs as he sits up.

“I’ll try to find a way to get out of this relationship as soon as possible, okay?” You nod as you take in the words that he’s saying, ensuring that you understand exactly what the plan is. “I’ll have to find a nice way to do it so that nothing blows up in my face, but I will get out of this. And then after a few months, we can go public.” He brings his hand to your face and caresses the skin with the pad of his thumb. “We just have to keep it under wraps until then.”

You nod, taking in what he’s saying. “That sounds good. How fast do you think you can get out of this?”

“A month, tops,” he promises, sealing it with a sweet kiss to your lips that makes every doubt leave your mind.

That conversation happened almost six months ago, and Harry’s still with Amelia. You try to pretend that it doesn’t bother you, but it does. He told you that he was going to do something and he hasn’t. He promised. You know that you’re supposed to be patient, but quite frankly, you’re tired of sharing him with someone else. You’re tired of him telling you that he loves you so much right before he goes back to her.

So you decide that you’re done with it. You don’t want to be the one that’s hidden anymore. He swears that he loves you, so it’s time for him to act on it. If you were in his shoes, you would have left your partner as soon as you had feelings for Harry. You would have chosen Harry because you’re truly, madly, deeply in love with him. Which raises the question of whether or not he feels the same. Is he lying about that, too?

You shake that idea out of your head as soon as it enters. Of course he loves me, you tell yourself as he lets himself in the door. You don’t move from your spot at the kitchen table when you hear him make his way to you; you just sit there and wait for him to approach you. You know that as soon as he sees your face, he’s going to know that something’s up, and as much as you know it has to happen, you’d do just about anything to put off this conversation for a few more seconds.

This entire thing could blow up in your face, and if that’s the outcome then you want to savor the last few fleeting moments of your life with Harry.

You feel him rest his hands on your shoulder and lean down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Hey, baby.” He comes to sit next to you and you just give a weak greeting in return.

“What’s wrong?” You glance up at him briefly and see the way that his eyebrows are knitted together in concern.

“We have to talk,” you mumble, trying to get the words out without sounding weak. You have to come across strong or there’s no chance of anything going right tonight.

“Okay… what do we have to talk about?” he asks, voice shaky as he prepares himself for the worst.

“It’s been almost half a year, Harry,” you breathe, trying your best to meet his gaze to show him that you mean every word that you’re saying. “I want more than I have, and you promised that I wouldn’t have to share you for more than a month.”

“I know, but I don’t want everything to blow up in my face,” he tries, making yet another excuse that you don’t have the time, nor the patience, to hear.

“Nothing’s going to blow up in your face, Harry!” you say, slightly louder than you previously were. Pushing yourself to stand from your chair, you make your way over to the counter to put a bit of space between the two of you. “Nobody knows about me! The worst thing that happens is that you get blamed for the breakup, but who cares? Is that really more important than being with just me?”

He’s silent, and you have to stop yourself from crying. His silence is never a good thing. He just looks down at the table and rubs his hands through his hair while you try your best to steady your breathing.

“I want more than this, Harry,” you repeat. “I want more than two nights a week when I can call you mine. Sure, we’re technically together, you’re technically mine, but you’re hers too.” The thought alone makes your voice catch in your throat and you have to clear it before continuing. “You say that I’m the one that you want, but who’s the one who can be seen in public with you? Who’s the one that you can show off? Who’s the one that will be going on tour with him? Who’s the one that you’re going to look into the crowd and meet eyes with as you have that stupid heart stealing smile on your face?” He’s silent still and you scoff. He can’t even look at you. “Her. All of those things are her, they’re not me.”

He stands after a moment and reaches out for you, but you know that this isn’t something that can be fixed with a hug and a few light kisses, so you hold up a hand to stop him and say the words you know are either going to make or break your relationship. “I love you Harry, and I know you love me, too. But if you don’t love me enough to choose me, then I need you to go.”

Knowing that he can’t give you what you need, he hangs his head low and holds the tears back as he walks out your door without so much as a glance back at you.

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot

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mamourland · 3 years

Note

20😁

20. Kiss on a scar

Post 1x09

Higgins sighed in contentment as she buried her nose in Magnum's fragrant neck. She was lying on his back while he was himself lying on his stomach after they had made love for the first time.

She basked in his body heat seeping through her skin.

After the Amanda Sakko case, Juliet had asked him about his imprisonment and they had talked for hours. He explained to her how Nuzo had cauterized his wound on his stomach and she had been shocked. She had no idea of the story behind the scar she had seen so many times before.

After he had shared his painful past, Juliet felt like they had never been closer so it was only logical that they grew closer physically as well.

To both of their surprise, she had made the first move - cupping his cheek to seal her lips to his.

After that, they had been carried away by their mutual desire until they ended up in his bed, where they were currently basking in the afterglow of their tender embrace.

She pressed and glided her lips over the damp skin covering his shoulder blades. It was a bit frightening for her but she might get addicted to the taste and feel of him.

He had ruined her for any other man.

However, she would make the most of it while she could as she continued to trail her lips across his shoulder.

She encountered a few indentations under his skin that made her recoil slightly. She frowned as she looked closely to the spot in question and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw a few tiny, whitened spots scattered across his left shoulder.

"What are those?" She asked him softly as she caressed each and every one of them.

She didn't expect his chuckle, making all of his body to tremble underneath her.

"Scars. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept now," he joked.

She rolled her eyes; Magnum would always be Magnum, even if they were now intimate.

"I know what they are, I'm asking how you got them. I've never seen them before."

They didn't look like fresh scars.

"You have to be really close to see them."

She saw his smile as his head was lying on his crossed arms and was turned towards her.

"I like being close enough to see them," she told him as she placed another light kiss on one of his tiny scars.

"I like you being close enough as well," he retorted and she could feel his words resonate through her chest with their position.

"Will you tell me the story behind them?"

"Aren't you tired of hearing tales about my wounds?" He asked her but she could hear he was pleasantly surprised she was interested in his stories.

"Surprisingly, I am not."

She stroked his soft hair, grazing his scalp with her short nails in a soothing, repetitive movement and got rewarded by a sigh of contentment that sounded almost like a purr.

He didn't speak for the next few minutes, relishing in her touch and Higgins feared he had fallen asleep, however, after a while he spoke again.

"When I was 14, I had a crush on the prettiest girl in my class - Katy MacMillan."

Juliet grinned at the thought of a smitten, teenager Magnum. He must have been so cute back then.

"Obviously, she didn't even know who I was," he continued. “She was pretty and popular so she hung out with popular guys who looked like they belonged in a boys band or something.”

“Poor you, being overthrown by a bunch of Backstreet Boys wannabes,” she chuckled before pressing a kiss against his cheekbone to cheer him up.

“Yeah, I didn’t live it quite well back then. I thought that if I showed her something quite phenomenal she would be instantly in love with me.”

Juliet giggled at his words, glad to learn that even cocky Magnum had had an insecure phase during his teen years.

“So, what did you do?” She asked him, impatient to know the next part of his story.

“Me and my buddy, Ray, came up with a plan to catch her attention, however, since I came home the night before with a bad grade, my Mom had grounded me and I was forbidden to go out.”

“Oh, no...”

Juliet sympathized with him but she had the intuition that Magnum had already some trouble with authority even during his youth.

“Yeah, but the love of my life was waiting for me so I disobeyed my Mom, grabbed my bike and went anyway.”

“What was the plan?”

Magnum chuckled and Juliet’s heart raced at the sight of how gleeful he was to reminisce this memory. She was glad that not all of his past was a string of glum recollections.

“I was to show her my prowess on my bike, you know like some back-wheel tricks.”

She hissed at his words.

“I’m guessing it didn’t go as planned?”

“No, not really. Oh, I caught her attention alright, but only because as soon as my front wheel was in the air, I got distracted by her looking at me and I fell backwards… straight on the gravel.”

“Ouch,” she said, understanding that the small scars were actually pebbles that must have torn his skin.

“This part wasn’t so bad, however, I can’t decide what had been worse though - Katy actually laughing at me or my Mom finding out.”

“She must have been furious.”

“Yeah, she was far from being gentle when she removed the small pebbles out of my shoulder with her pair of tweezers.”

He grew wistful at the thought of his mother so she slid down from him and lied next to him. She caressed his hair before cupping his cheek.

“She cared about you a lot,” she told him, hoping it would make him feel better.

He turned his head so he could place a kiss against her palm.

“Thank you.”

She looked at him, puzzled.

“For what?”

“For helping me remember nice memories and for being willing to create new ones with me.”

She smiled and pressed her lips to his, humming when his strong arms wrapped around her body.

Just because they were two broken people didn’t mean they couldn’t lead a beautiful and fulfilling life.

#magnum pi #magnum fics #thomas magnum #juliet higgins #miggy #miggy fic #magnum x higgins #magnum x juliet #drabble #prompts #ask #answered

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needtherapy · 4 years

Text

Huaisang’s Hit List

or, how I learned to stop worrying and love my cursed dick

Technically Huaisang never slept with Wen Chao, just...spent a few minutes extricating himself from what turned out to be that awful murder-tortoise cave adventure. And anyway, it doesn’t matter because Wen Chao wasn’t on The List. The List was the problem. Is the problem.

Remember that Top Cultivator’s list? You know the one, the one where the Twin Jades were the two most eligible cultivators and Wei Wuxian was ranked higher than Jiang Cheng?

Yeah, that was Huaisang’s fault. But no one regrets it more than he does.

Except maybe all the dead people.

Read more Kristina Writes Tiny Stories

Notes: Sort of explicit, and there’s definitely some terribly silly cursed sex acts. If you want to read it on AO3 instead, you can do that too! Many thanks to @coslyons and AO3′s mongrelmind and effienell who probably will regret being tagged. Read their fantastic work instead of this absolute travesty.

⟹ ⟸ ⟹ ⟸ ⟹ ⟸ ⟹ ⟸ ⟹ ⟸

In hindsight, Huaisang should have realized way before the Wei Wuxian Incident that he was cursed. But to be fair, people die all the time.

He should know. He has personally killed eight people with his cursed dick.

“So,” Jiang Cheng says, hands tucked under his head, staring up at the sky, “You’re telling me that everyone you have sex with dies. And therefore, you must be killing them?”

“More or less, yes.”

“Isn’t that a little…” Jiang Cheng pauses and kicks the water his feet are dangling in, apparently trying for once in his life to be tactful, which makes Huaisang even more miserable. If Jiang Cheng is being tactful, it must be the end of the world. “Conceited?”

Huaisang pulls another leaf off the branch he is mutilating. He really doesn’t think he’s ever been conceited. Conceited would imply a lack of justification, and he is quite sure he’s right about this.

“A-Cheng, I have evidence. Hard evidence.”

Jiang Cheng chokes a little, and Huaisang glares at him. “Could you not? This is serious. I am never going to have sex again.”

Jiang Cheng chokes again, this time gasping with pained laughter, and Huaisang throws the branch at him. “Fuck you a-Cheng.”

“Thank all the gods you never have!” Jiang Cheng is howling now, curled in a ball and wheezing, and Huaisang has never been so insulted in his life.

Huaisang gathers what remains of his dignity and stands. He doesn’t care how beautiful Lotus Pier is in summer, or how many different shades of pink the flowers blanketing the lakes are, or how wickedly indulgent the sun feels through only two layers of robes, he is going to walk back down this dock and leave.

“Oh sit down, you big baby.” Jiang Cheng grabs the hem of Huaisang’s green robe. “I know you’re just dying to tell me about your ‘hard evidence’ and as much as I would rather rather erase all knowledge of your sex life from…”

Jiang Cheng's utter inability to disguise any thought he has is a gift, Huaisang thinks. Not only does it mean that in almost twenty years, Huaisang has never lost a game of weiqi, it also means he knows the moment it occurs to Jiang Cheng exactly what he means. Or rather...who.

“You. Did not. Fuck. My brother.”

Huaisang glares at a pair of ducks flying noisily overhead—those bastards were probably using their wings to escape awkward conversations—and silently bemoans his sudden and inexplicable flirtation with honesty. Why precisely had he wanted to share the details of his humiliating curse with Jiang Cheng? He frowns down at Sandu Shengshou’s tight, angry slash of a mouth, crackling dark eyes, cheekbones that could slice open his fingers if he ran them over the ridges…

Oh yes. That was why.

“Well, not first,” Huaisang says, deciding that if he’s in for a piglet, he’s in for a hog. “What happened first was Wen Xu.”

Jiang Cheng rolls into the lake. Huaisang is speechless. As rude escapes from his presence go, it is unprecedented. Wen Xu only snuck out of the window.

⟹ ⟸

Huaisang wasn’t biting his lip because he was nervous. That would be preposterous. He wasn’t a virgin after all. But he had also never picked anyone up in a tavern...well, certainly not a tavern in Hejian...okay, definitely not anyone at a tavern in Hejian as spectacularly handsome as the man whose name he couldn’t recall and really didn’t care about currently stripping in front of…

He lost his train of thought when—what was his name...Yang...Tian...something about the sun—threw his undershirt on the ground and looked expectantly at Huaisang, flexing the outrageous muscles on his chest just enough to make Huaisang’s blood boil. Yes, oh yes, he was definitely going to bite Sun Man right over the top of his left nipple immediately. And then he was going to make Sun Man beg for mercy. He stepped forward, his mouth stretching wide in a practiced seductive smile, and everything went wrong.

Sun Man stepped forward too, eyes closing, an arrogant tilt to his mouth. Huaisang tried to avoid the kiss—who kissed a stranger in an inn?—but he avoided to the left, and Sun Man lurched to the left. Like a slow motion fall off a cliff, they crashed into each other, arms and legs flailing everywhere. Sun Man’s head smacked into Huaisang’s chin, and worse, Huaisang’s knee collided with the soft—well, not that soft, some distant, smug corner of his brain noted—flesh between the man’s legs. He grunted in pain, grabbed Huaisang, and they fell on the floor in a fairly uncomfortable heap.

Fuck. Well, there goes that, Huaisang thought. Another thrilling night listening to da-ge rant about the damn Wen dogs loomed in his future.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Sun Man said immediately, sprawled on top of Huaisang, and Huaisang realized he meant it, judging by the considerably less soft space between his legs that was currently pressed against Huaisang’s hip.

He cheered immediately. Sun Man liked being hurt. It wasn’t a great start, but he could work with that.

Yes, he thought, as he slapped Sun Man hard on his spectacular ass and Sun Man let out a hearty moan, he could work with this.

Later, history books would describe da-ge as glorious in battle, cutting through the Wen army to the Wen heir, knocking the arrogant smile off his face and the man off his horse, laughing when he begged for mercy and dismembering his body as a lesson to the others, all to the triumphant cheers of the combined army.

What the history books did not mention was da-ge dramatically throwing the head on the ground at Huaisang’s feet in the music room.

“I will take his head to Xichen,” da-ge announced proudly, and Huaisang winced. How could anyone be so bad at romantic gifts?

He looked down despite himself—it had been almost a week since da-ge had thrown a Wen body part on the floor—and gasped.

Huaisang tried to look away from Sun Man in time but in the grand tradition of brothers everywhere, da-ge was unfailingly observant at the worst possible times.

“Huaisang, what did you do?”

Nothing, Huaisang thought, snapping his fan open and trying to blink the hysterical laughter away. Just spanked the daylights out of Wen Xu the night before he died. Just made him cry and climax and collapse in snoring exhaustion before Huaisang had a chance to finish any kind of reciprocal satisfaction, the bastard. And then just watched him climb out of the window before dawn. He sighs. What a wasted night.

“Nothing, da-ge. It’s just...he’s leaking on the floor.”

Da-ge grunted and rolled the head out of the room with his foot.

“I was expecting it to last longer, honestly,” da-ge said, and Huaisang thought, me too. “He seemed spent before we even started.”

Huaisang covered his giggle with a sympathetic cough. “How disappointing for you, da-ge.”

“The thing is,” da-ge continued, eyes sharpening in a very worrisome way. “I noticed a distinctive shade of lip color on his neck, right before I separated it from his body. Almost...like...the mauve you’re wearing right now.”

“This is raisin,” Huaisang snapped before he could help himself and then cringed. He was in so much trouble.

But instead, da-ge sank into a chair laughing. “You could have just drugged him, Huaisang. You didn’t have to fuck him. Next time, tell me before you decide to single handedly give our enemy the serpent’s kiss?”

Huaisang decided to take credit for the tactical fucking, but did not want to be assigned any future war jobs, hand, blow, or otherwise.

“I am not having sex with any more Wens,” he said virtuously, sitting in a chair across from his brother. He did not appreciate the roar of laughter.

⟹ ⟸

“Oh gods, how many more Wens did you have sex with?” Jiang Cheng demands, wringing out his dripping hair next to the hearth fire in the kitchen. “The whole army? Wen Ruohan? Truly, you are the unsung hero of the Sunshot campaign. We should have made you chief cultivator.”

“First of all, I would be a phenomenal chief cultivator, thank you.” Huaisang throws a towel at Jiang Cheng, whacking him on the side of the head, but Jiang Cheng just grins charmingly, the wretch. “Second of all, none of course.”

Technically he never slept with Wen Chao, just...spent a few minutes extricating himself from what turned out to be that awful murder-tortoise cave adventure. And anyway, it doesn’t matter because Wen Chao wasn’t on The List. The List was the problem. Is the problem.

Jiang Cheng twists his hair into a knot on the top of his head and starts stripping off his wet clothes.

“Okay, so then you slept with my brother?”

Huaisang slumps in a chair and stares at the carved ceiling, not looking, not looking, not looking. Pretty, he thinks, focusing very diligently on the wood. It looks like a giant lotus flower.

“No, only the number sixes at first,” Huaisang mumbles, wondering if the splotchy paint marks on the carving are actually tiny lotus flowers. If so, he really has to admire how committed the Yunmeng Jiang are to the aesthetic.

Suddenly Jiang Cheng’s face is next to his face, his hands on the arm of the chair, and he looks angry again. Wet and angry. Like a scandalously unrobed cat that just crawled out of a well—Huaisang fumbles the metaphor, too distracted by Jiang Cheng’s chest.

“Are you talking about that plague of a ‘most eligible cultivators’ list? If I ever find out who ruined my life with that list, I am going to tie them to something very hard and beat them within an inch of their life,” he growls, and Huaisang is afraid he might be a little turned on by that. He tries something. A sort of experiment.

“I made the list.”

Jiang Cheng turns white, the blood draining instantly from his face. His eyes widen, his nostrils flare, and Huaisang decides that yes, indeed, he is terrified and aroused. He really does learn something new about himself every day.

“You asshole,” Jiang Cheng hisses. “Why?”

“I don’t remember,” he lies. “Maybe I was bored. Maybe it was a list of people I wanted to be friends with.” It was certainly not a list of people he and Meng Yao had wanted to see naked. Not at all.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t move. If anything, his nose gets a little closer to Huaisang’s nose. Tantalizingly within biting distance.

“It was a sex list, wasn’t it,” he accuses, entirely unfairly in Huaisang’s opinion. But then he frowns. “Your brother was on that list. That’s...a bit much, even for you.”

Huaisang sticks out his tongue, almost licking Jiang Cheng. Wisely, Jiang Cheng jumps back, protecting his precious nose with his hand.

“Okay, that was Zewu-Jun’s fault! He found out that da-ge wasn’t on the list and he looked so sad. You know how he is! ‘But Mingjue-xiong is so handsome and kind. Why wouldn’t he be considered the most eligible cultivator? You know I have no interest in such worldly things, but oh, woe, life has been too cruel to my dear, dear friend Mingjue-xiong.’” Huaisang knows he does a killer Lan-zongzhu impression, and Jiang Cheng’s mouth twitches at the corners.

“Fine. You didn’t fuck your brother. Good for you. Go ahead, tell me who you did kill. Since I apparently can’t stop you.”

“I didn’t know I was doing it, a-Cheng. I wouldn’t kill people on purpose.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t hesitate to reassure him.

“Of course you would.”

Huaisang is friends with Jiang Cheng for this exact reason: because he is the kind of friend who would steal chickens and bury bodies with you and not judge or ask questions.

Jiang Cheng freezes, closes his eyes, and asks a very judgmental question. “Don’t tell me you were responsible for Jin Zixuan too?”

Huaisang winces. “Not...only.”

⟹ ⟸

“So you’re second cousins,” Huaisang asked, drinking another cup of the finest wine he can afford, and staring at Jin Zixuan’s increasingly handsome face, already a work of art.

Naturally, it was the other one who answered, because nothing was easy today except for Huaisang.

“No, his mother’s sister’s husband’s sister is my mother. They were married in the same ancestral hall as my mother’s brother’s wife’s brother, though, and....”

Huaisang didn’t give two fucks about Jin Zixun droning on about his relations, but he liked the flush on Jin Zixuan’s cheeks when he caught Huaisang staring at him. He’d had two bottles of wine, and he seemed to be one of those drunks who got quieter and quieter until he fell over. Huaisang wanted to catch him.

He had found Jin Zixuan in Yudao Tang, looking at the map of the Sunshot Campaign without da-ge, and although he was fairly sure it was innocent, he was also fairly sure da-ge would absolutely qi deviate if anyone touched his little metal horses and toy soldiers. He was just going to shoo him away, but Jin Zixuan, the third most eligible cultivator, had given him A Curious Look, and Huaisang had shifted tactics with a military precision he thinks would even have impressed his da-ge.

“You’ve been working so hard, Jin-gongzi,” Huaisang said, testing out Jin Zixuan’s bicep with a soft and gentle squeeze that lingered long enough to promise something hard and rough. “Let’s go share a bottle or two to loosen up for the night.”

He hadn’t even realized the other one was there.

“You’re too generous Nie Huaisang! We accept your offer,” crowed the unwanted Jin, whose name Huaisang was unwillingly informed was Zixun.

So now Huaisang was sitting in an inn in Hejian trying to get Jin Zixun pass-out drunk faster than Jin Zixuan. It wasn’t working. The man had a hollow leg. Possibly two hollow legs. Definitely a hollow brain. But then he felt a hand on his knee, and Jin Zixuan was looking at him from under eyelashes as long and thick as butterfly wings.

“Would you like to leave?” he asked quietly, and Huaisang could not have been more relieved than if he had been plucked from the coils of a liangren she.

“Yes please,” he whispered under Jin Zixun’s droning. “You go first. I’ll follow.”

Jin Zixuan stood gracefully, only swayed a little, and was up the stairs before Jin Zixun had completely explained the intimate details of his mother’s sister’s son’s wedding tea service. Huaisang endured the description of osmanthus cakes for two whole minutes before he laughed loudly, interrupting Boring Cousin.

“Stop! I need to relieve myself and I can’t bear to miss one single detail! Wait right here and I’ll be back.”

Jin Zixun looked disappointed to be robbed of an audience even for a heartbeat, but he stayed, and Huaisang fled.

He found Jin Zixuan waiting in the doorway of his room, and he didn’t waste another second. Pushing Jin Zixuan onto the bed, Huaisang practically launched himself at the man, kissing him viciously, thrilled when Jin Zixuan groaned and locked his hand around the back of Huaisang’s head. He looked rumpled and flushed, and he tasted like heat and honey. Absolutely delicious. Huaisang didn’t understand why Wei Wuxian didn’t like Jin Zixuan. Probably because he’d never bitten the skin at the base of his throat or heard how sweetly he moaned when Huaisang got his pants down and started to stroke him, sliding his hand expertly along the smooth curve.

“There you go sweetheart,” Huaisang encouraged, when Jin Zixuan reached between Huaisang’s legs and finally wrapped those long, thin, elegant fingers around his shaft. He was exactly what Huaisang had hoped: beautiful, strong, and eager, if a little unskilled.

And then Huaisang heard the worst sound he had ever heard in his life.

“Fuck, this is hot,” Jin Zizun slurred from the door. “I want to join.”

⟹ ⟸

“And then he did, a-Cheng,” Huaisang whines, taking a bite out of the dumpling Jiang Cheng hands him. “It was the worst.”

Jiang Cheng looks unsympathetic. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you done detailing how you fucked my brother-in-law and his abhorrent cousin to death? I tuned out somewhere around the extremely comprehensive description of my sister’s father’s daughter’s husband’s dick, which I could have lived my whole life without hearing.”

“You asked,” Huaisang points out.

“‘Yes’ or ‘no’ would have been sufficient,” Jiang Cheng retorts.

Huaisang hadn’t considered that.

“Oh. Um, yes. I was responsible for Jin Zixuan. And Jin Zixun, although I didn’t mean to be. And...um...Ouyang Xi and Yao Shui. They were both number sixes. Ouyang Xi was the only girl I ever put on the list. Remember her? She was amazing.”

Jiang Cheng sits back, thinking. “Wasn’t she taller than Hanguang-Jun?” When Huaisang nods, Jiang Cheng whistles appreciatively. “Oh yeah, I remember her. She was something. I can’t even be mad about that one.”

He seems to realize how that sounded and shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous. You aren’t killing people. They died in the war. They died because they were assholes. They died because people die. That’s not proof.”

Huaisang does not want to tell him about Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian is proof.

“It was twice with Wei Wuxian. And he died twice. Once his heart. Once his life. That’s when I realized, and that’s when I stopped having sex.”

Jiang Cheng’s mouth drops open a little and he stares at Huaisang, obviously dumbfounded, probably horrified. Finally, Huaisang thinks, Jiang Cheng doesn’t have anything sarcastic to say.

“I am so mad at you right now,” he finally replies, and Huaisang shrinks. “Once you realized, why the fuck didn’t you sleep with Hanguang-Jun? You could have made my life so much easier. Gods, Huaisang, you are never thinking about me.”

Huaisang’s mind spins futilely, a dog chasing its tail, but he finally processes Jiang Cheng’s sparkling eyes, the slightly raised left eyebrow, and the extremely provoking way he is biting his lip as “teasing.” Huaisang expects his eyes to stop there, but the traitors keep going, looking at Jiang Cheng’s muscular chest, disappointingly garbed in dry clothes, his long legs stretched out in front of him…no! Focus on being truthful! His mind—okay possibly not his mind—objects to both truthfulness and not ogling Jiang Cheng but he perseveres.

“You...you aren’t angry? About Wei Wuxian?”

Jiang Cheng shrugs. “He’s alive now. What can I change about the past? And I’m not sure I want to hear any,” he pokes Huaisang in the chest, “ANY details about whatever you two did.”

Huaisang thinks about Wei Wuxian at sixteen, full of sunshine and curiosity, kneeling in front of him in the woods behind Cloud Recesses, and he thinks of Wei Wuxian during Sunshot, his jagged edges so beautiful and sharp, begging Huaisang to tighten the rope a little more, hurt him a little more, distract him a little more.

“Nope, nope, see, that face is exactly what I don’t want to hear,” Jiang Cheng interrupts. “Not a word, Huaisang. Not a word.”

He leans forward and pours more wine into Huaisang’s cup. “Look, just stop making the list and you’ll be fine. You can go back to doing whatever, whoever, you want.”

“I did! I haven’t been in charge of the list for years! For a while, no one was updating it, and then I handed it over to Jingyi, oh, about a year before Wei Wuxian came back, but...it still works.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes roll back so hard, so long, Huaisang hopes they get stuck. “I assume you know because you tested it personally. I compliment the rigorous dedication to checking your theory, Huaisang.”

Huaisang sniffs. That poor Zhao girl (an exceptional number seven—Huaisang couldn’t argue with Jingyi’s taste, at least) had died horribly, he thinks, falling from her sword after a tragic mid-air goose collision.

“Well, I had to check, because…” If he is ever going to face a consequence, Huaisang thinks, today is the day. “For once, I wanted to use it.”

And then he waits for the dao to fall.

⟹ ⟸

Huaisang had planned of course, planned for years. Found evidence. Found witnesses. Found proof. But nothing was as good as a sure thing. So he would do this distasteful thing to ensure that no matter what happened, no matter how it happened, his plan would succeed.

Winning was so close he could taste it, like salty tears, like bitter fruit. It was a taste he remembered well.

“San-ge,” he sobbed, drinking his wine and immediately burning off the alcohol, “I just don’t know what to do. I’m going to die alone.”

Jin Guangyao, who Huaisang never thought of san-ge in his mind anymore, looked a little annoyed, but Huaisang poured him another cup of Emperor’s Smile, and his brother’s murderer relaxed.

“A-Sang,” he said in a patronizing tone, as though he was so much older and more mature than Huaisang. “We can visit another matchmaker and try again.”

“Noooooo,” Huaisang wailed. “I just can’t. It won’t help. You must have advice. What can I do to make a woman love me?”

There it was. The flinch. Huaisang loved the flinch. The flinch was winning. He gleefully drove the sword in deeper.

“Oh no, I’m a fool,” he moaned, with a dramatic sniffle, drying his tears and touching the back of Jin Guangyao’s hand, the lightest feather, only the tip of his finger grazing one knuckle. “I’m being selfish. This is such terrible timing, with everything that’s happened. I’m just so lonely. I miss…”

Huaisang sighed and turned away morosely, watching Jin Guangyao out of the corner of his eye. He really wasn’t as good at hiding his reactions as he thought he was. For instance, he bit the inside of his lip the way he always did when he was thinking of the past. And his eyes shifted to the right the way they always did when he was about to lie, so Huaisang beat him to the punch, pouring more wine. Four bottles down.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure you never think about...well...you know.” He let his eyelashes flutter. Jin Guangyao looked a little alarmed, so Huaisang ratcheted the flutter back to a flicker. “But it was the best time of my life,” Huaisang said with a wistful jab, adding a twist of longing, and the thrust hit home.

“Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said, sounding a little like he was drunk and a lot like he was weakening. “That was a long time ago.”

Huaisang was aware. He was aware that Meng Yao was never on The List, so sleeping with him never counted. He was aware that it was, perhaps, a bit callous to put a man whose wife died two days ago on a list of most eligible bachelors but he is Jin-zongzhu and chief cultivator. It would honestly be a crime not to include him.

“Maybe...maybe tonight I could help you and you could help me? Think of it as therapeutic catharsis, a-Yao.” Huaisang suggested, this time touching Jin Guangyao’s knee, and, when he got no objection, sliding his hand up further.

This is no worse than Su She, he reminded himself. Actually, a lot less worse, he decided, remembering the flash of raw meat that was Su She’s chest with a repressed shudder. He definitely can’t think about that, or he won’t even be able to coax The Cursed One into working order.

“Sang-er,” Jin Guangyao whispered, and Huaisang knew he’d won.

In more ways than one.

⟹ ⟸

Huaisang can’t tell what the look on Jiang Cheng’s face means.

“Ha!” Jiang Cheng shouts, and then tips sideways onto the couch laughing.

No, laughing is a polite word for polite people. Jiang Cheng is braying, quite a bit like Wei Wuxian’s donkey. It is frankly, very unbecoming behavior for a sect leader.

“You sound like Lil’ Apple,” Huaisang says crossly, and Jiang Cheng laughs harder, falling on the ground at Huaisang’s feet.

“You named your dick ‘The Cursed One’? No wonder it hates you. I’d hate you too. Here’s a suggestion. Try naming it something nice!”

“Oh, like ‘Princess?’”

Jiang Cheng shuts up.

But not for long. Never for long. The only person who shuts up less than Huaisang is Jiang Cheng. Huaisang considers himself a model of restraint compared to Jiang Cheng.

“What if you just kiss someone? Does that kill them?”

Huaisang eyes Jiang Cheng suspiciously, but he is sitting up, not laughing, and looks genuinely curious.

“My lips aren’t cursed.”

Jiang Cheng nods slowly. “That makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Not really, but I’m trying to be supportive of your bout with insanity. What happens if you have sex with people who aren’t on the list?”

“Nothing. But I never know who is on the list anymore. Jingyi and Sizhui are very protective of it. I don’t think they trust me not to tell anyone they write it.”

Jiang Cheng gives him a disbelieving look. “I can’t imagine why.”

Huaisang can’t either. It is a very unfilial lack of faith in his well-proven ability to keep secrets.

“Well, I guess if it’s the only way you’ll ever have sex again, I’m willing to sacrifice myself,” Jiang Cheng announces, holding out his arms and wiggling his hips suggestively. “Come and get it, Huaisang. I’m sorry, but this is your best, no, your only option.”

Huaisang kicks Jiang Cheng’s foot viciously. “You are so mean, a-Cheng, and it doesn’t help, because you’re still on the list, okay? Stupid Jingyi and his stupid crush. You’re number three now.”

Jiang Cheng grins so broadly, Huaisang hates him. Hates him a lot. Stupid, vain, irritating Jiang Cheng. He can’t remember why they’re friends. He can’t remember why he likes him.

“That’s so sweet! I knew I liked that kid for a reason. I should invite him over for tea sometime.”

Huaisang pops to his feet. “You go right ahead. I’m leaving.”

As fast as a striking snake, Jiang Cheng sits up and grabs Huaisang around the waist, pulling him down, startling a squeak out of Huaisang as he lands on Jiang Cheng’s lap.

“You idiot,” Jiang Cheng tells Huaisang fondly, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Have you ever tried having sex with anyone on the list who isn’t a fragile flower? Or who thought you were worth risking a little death for? Maybe you aren’t cursed. Maybe you just have terrible taste.”

He kisses Huaisang, so gently and tenderly, eyes closed, nose rubbing Huaisang’s cheek, and it is nothing like Huaisang expected, but it does feel a little like something breaks. Maybe it’s the curse. Maybe it’s the brittle ice around his heart that formed when da-ge died. Whatever it is, he can’t be bothered to think about it. He kisses Jiang Cheng back with everything he’s wanted to say since the day they met.

“Wait!”

Jiang Cheng wrenches away and glares at Huaisang. “Number three? Three? I can understand two, because ugh, Xichen, but who else could possibly be more eligible than me?”

“Cheng-gege, I’m probably just remembering wrong. You know how I am with details. I’m sure you’re second,” Huaisang soothes, wanting to return to the kissing part without having to tell Jiang Cheng that er-ge had put his foot down a long time ago about being on the list. It is actually his nephew who is number two and Ouyang Zizhen who is number one. He doesn’t think Jiang Cheng will see the humor in it.

“That’s true, you do have an atrocious memory,” Jiang Cheng grumbles. “For instance, you seem to have forgotten that you spent the entire afternoon detailing your exploits with half the cultivation world.”

Huaisang’s thought process is somewhat compromised, and he can’t make himself connect Jiang Cheng’s words with the feel of his hands, those wide, strong hands cupping Huaisang’s ass.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, tipping his head back and letting Jiang Cheng nibble a path down his neck. “They were all terrible. I do not recommend any of them, especially not the dead ones.”

Jiang Cheng laughs, a rumbling sound that makes Huaisang’s fingers fumble at the lotus clasp on his belt.

“I didn’t hate it, but we’re going to start a new list, Sang-er, called ‘Huaisang’s Best Sex,’ and I am going to be the ony person on it,” Jiang Cheng informs Huaisang, biting his earlobe.

“It’s not…” Huaisang kisses Jiang Cheng’s exquisite collarbone, having cleverly freed him from his robes, “...a list if…” Huaisang wraps his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck and rocks against him, “...there’s only one person on it.”

With a growl that might be hiding a laugh, Jiang Cheng flips Huaisang onto his back and grinds against him. “Stop arguing, Sang-er. I am busy writing my name on your new list, and I expect it to take the rest of the night.”

Now that he thinks about it, Huaisang decides, lifting his hips so Jiang Cheng can pull off his pants, it’s really a brilliant idea. The best idea Jiang Cheng has ever had. Jiang Cheng’s mouth engulfs Huaisang’s very much forgiven dick, and with a gasp and a moan, he vows to henceforth let Jiang Cheng have all the ideas.

⟹ ⟸

Huaisang stretches like a cat in the morning, as pleased with himself as the sun is to rise, and stares down at Jiang Cheng’s unfairly beautiful face. Last night, Jiang Cheng had seemed very determined to break the curse, or break Huaisang’s back, and Huaisang isn’t surprised that he’s still asleep. With one finger, Huaisang traces the line of Jiang Cheng’s jaw and leans down to kiss his cool, smooth lips.

Cool lips.

No.

No!

Huaisang flails out of the bed, scrambling backward, falling, shaking his head as though not looking directly at Jiang Cheng will change what he felt.

He knew he should have listened to his gut and not his traitorous, evil dick.

“No no no no no no,” he chants softly, like it will make Jiang Cheng any less dead if he says it enough times.

And then a ton of rocks falls on his head. He is in the Jiang zongzhu’s bedroom with a dead Jiang-zongzhu. The self-preservation instinct that has kept him alive this long kicks him in the ass. He hurries to Jiang Cheng’s side of the bed and rolls him over, tucking the blanket around him like a mushu pancake. First, roll up the body, he mutters to himself. Then, dump him in the lake. Then, run away. This would be easier if he had someone to help. Like Jiang Cheng.

He stops and frowns. Is that…

The rolled up blanket shakes and Huaisang leaps back, clearing the entirety of the lotus-shaped rug—gods, they are devoted to that theme—and landing on a chair as far away from the undead Jiang Cheng as possible.

The wildly panicking rabbit in his head only slows its escape as he recognizes the sound from the bed.

Laughter.

Fucking laughter.

Fucking Jiang Cheng rolls himself out of the blanket. Not dead.

Not yet, at least. Huaisang is formulating some very definite ideas on how to change Jiang Cheng’s living status right now.

“Your face! You should see your face. I swear, I will cultivate immortality just so I can remember this moment for a thousand years. I never thought there would be a reason to use my qi to slow my heart rate like that but I was so wrong. You were going to dump me in the lake!”

“What is wrong with you!” Huaisang shouts. “I thought I’d killed you!” He stalks over to Jiang Cheng, intending to make his assumption reality, but Jiang Cheng wraps his legs tightly around Huaisang’s waist and kisses him soundly.

“I don’t die easily, Nie Huaisang. Not for you, not for anyone. Besides, I’ve waited too long for you to figure out you’re in love with me. Now, come back to bed, and I’ll let you try to kill me again, as many times as you want. If you’re very good, maybe Princess will return the favor and try to kill you too.”

Dammit, Huaisang should have known he’d like the name. He’s going to be stuck calling Jiang Cheng’s dick Princess forever.

He grins and shoves Jiang Cheng backward, straddling his waist, and the aforementioned Princess twitches enthusiastically. Forever is a nice amount of time, Huaisang decides, and Princess is a small price to pay for forever.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #sangcheng #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #the untamed fic #I don't even want to tag the other people #wen xu #jin zixun #jin zixuan #there was a cursed idea #and then a cursed fic came out of it #it is quite silly but #not gonna lie I do sort of love the way it came out #kristina writes tiny stories

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

Text

Patches || Boba Fett x Reader

(A/N: hi yes I made this because I want boba to step on me. That is all.)

WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of injury, some angst, otherwise none

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~2200

~~~

Today was the third time that week that he came back to the Slave I beaten and bruised.

When you had initially accepted this agreement, this wasn’t exactly what you had envisioned. Yes, while you were a certified nurse, and agreed to be as such for him, you weren’t ready for any of this.

You weren’t ready at all for the sheer amount of times that you would have to patch him up after he had completed his work each week. It started off mundane and normal, with him coming to you to fix him up just about once every week or so. However, over time, you could tell that he was getting more and more cocky by the day and with each of his successful bounties. He had started to accept more and more dangerous jobs, as evidenced by his injuries and the longer and longer stretches of time he would be gone. He would never tell you about them (except for the odd detail you had to know to make the plan go through smoothly), but you could tell that he was pushing his limits. Although he never said any of this explicably out loud to you, the blemishes on his skin told you all you needed to know. The amount of the marks had subtly increased over time, but you were trained enough to notice the small increments of increase.

Nothing could slip past you, you felt like.

You also weren’t ready for the headache that was your relationship with him.

Quickly, you realized that Boba wasn’t the type to start up conversation, or just about anything for that matter, if it wasn’t necessary. You also realized that Boba wasn’t the type to express himself all that much. Yes, it was noticeable in his speech patterns and demeanor…

But it was even more noticeable in that you simply couldn’t read his expressions.

Boba never took his helmet off around you.

At first, this had puzzled you greatly. You had tried to ask him about it after about two weeks of knowing him, but this was only met by one of his seemingly trademark none of your business-es.

You swore, if he had some sort of cheesy bounty-hunter catchphrase, it would be that.

After getting absolutely nowhere with asking him (not much of a shocker, granted), you decided to do some digging on your own. You had eventually found out that he was Mandalorian.

You hadn’t heard that name since the republic was still around.

Those were the days…

You never pressed the subject after that. You knew what happened to the Mandalorians.

You were sure that it was a touchy subject, and it wasn’t like Boba enjoyed talking to you in the first place.

He never really said much to you, and you figured it was because he either didn’t like you, and/or just tolerated your existence. He did this because you were useful to him. Who else would patch him up after a fight?

No one.

So he had better at least tolerate you being on his ship.

Often, you wondered if there were others before you. You wondered if he had made other nurses or doctors tag along with him on his escapades. If he had, they were long since gone.

You didn’t blame them, however. You figured that it must have been frustrating for them too, having to deal with the type of person Boba was.

But, that was another thing you weren’t ready for. Tolerating and accepting notorious bounty hunter Boba Fett.

Yes, he was cold to you. Yes, he was a bit cocky as of late. Yes, it frustrated you to no end that he would barely tell you anything about his jobs, not to even mention about himself. But, deep down inside of you, in a place you weren’t quite sure even existed…

You tolerated it.

You enjoyed it even.

Before Boba had picked you up off of your nowhere home planet, life was very dim and dull. That’s the majority of the reason why you wanted to be a nurse in the first place. You would hear stories of nurses and doctors having to scatter themselves across time and space to save a patient’s life that had unannouncedly plopped itself upon their laps, and you were intrigued. You saw that life as a way to get some entertainment out of life, and a way to get some good karma so that hopefully your maker would have some mercy upon you once you died. But, even that life eventually grew old for you. You became numb to it even.

So, when you met a certain green bucket-head at a cantina you frequented at the end of your shifts and he offered you a job, you simply couldn’t refuse.

You would never admit it, but you were thankful for Boba. Even if he made you want to rip all your hair out and light it on fire.

But, you would often forget about your thanks when you were frustrated.

Like now.

“Tell me if it hurts.” you told him as you wrapped a bandage around his bloodied forearm, holding the muscular limb in your soft grasp.

Of course, he said nothing in response. Didn’t find it necessary, you figured.

Currently, you were knelt next to a half-naked Boba Fett with an array of various medical supplies scattered about the floor around you, your hair pushed back to keep out of your sight. Boba was sitting upon a crate with his toned back against the wall of the Slave I, making him elevated above you. You had helped him remove the upper portions of his armor upon his stumbling into your room, and they were now rested upon the trunk next to the bounty hunter. Of course, he hadn’t removed his helmet upon his entrance, making him look now rather silly in just his helmet, boots, pants, belt, and leg armor. Tending to your girlish fantasies, you would have admired Boba’s muscular, firm chest for a moment, if he weren’t so scratched up, bloodied, and scarred.

Maker, he was an idiot.

You weren’t quite sure of where his gaze was as the T of his helmet looked down at you. Normally, this wouldn’t have pestered you in the slightest. However, today was… off. You felt off. Was it the stale air? Was it what you ate? You didn’t know.

All you knew is that you noticed this feeling as soon as you saw just how beat up Boba was. It made your chest ache and your stomach churn. But wny?

Whatever the reason was, it was making you more on-edge and short-fused than usual.

Once you had gotten the bandage about halfway on him, Boba jerked his arm towards him, ripping it out of your gentle grasp with a hiss. Your brow furrowed slightly and your lips pursed.

How dare he.

You were just trying to help. Why did he always have to be so rude?

“It hurts.” he said to you, his accented voice distorted by his helmet.

Sighing, you pulled his arm back to you, resuming your actions as you responded.

“I see that.” you said flatly, a tone lacing your voice. You had no idea what was coming over you, but unconsciously decided to remove your filter.

Let it come, you thought, see if I care.

“Clearly you don’t.” he said, giving you attitude right back. Maker, why was he so difficult?

“Well, how can I? You never tell me things until the last minute.” you huffed out, taping the bandage down with some medical tape, “If you even decide to tell me anything.”

“I tell you what you need to know.”

You let out a quick, sarcastic laugh at this, refusing to look up at him as you readied a swab with alcohol to clean up his cuts. Every semblance of your filter was now gone.

“Sure you do, Boba. You tell me everything I need to know. My apologies.”

“Name one time I left you in the dark, (F/N).” he responded to you, his voice becoming quicker and more accented as his frustration grew.

This only fueled your own.

“One time?!” you snapped, shooting your gaze up to the T of his helmet, “How about every time?! You never tell me where you’re going next, you never tell me who you’re working for, and you never tell me just how dangerous these jobs are! Boba, I know you’re getting in over your head. You-”

“I’m not-”

“DON’T cut me off.”’ you spat back, “Boba, I know you’ve been going beyond your limits. I can tell in your injuries. I can tell in your mood. Yes, you’re moody all the time, but it’s only getting worse. I didn’t sign up for this, Boba, I didn’t…”

You were cut off by a lump in your throat starting to form, tears welling themselves up in your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him, so you bit your lip and took a deep breath in through your nose before you continued, your voice shaky and strained.

“I-I didn’t sign up… To watch you die.”

A silence hung in the air as you sniffled. Wiping your eyes, you hung your head, refusing to keep your gaze on the bounty hunter any longer. You waited a moment for him to respond, but got nothing. Figured, anyway.

He probably didn’t care.

He probably didn’t give one single shit about what you were saying.

...

So be it.

At least you got it off your chest.

Sighing and reaching to your medical equipment, your rustled through the items as you spoke again.

“Whatever. It’s not important anymore. Forget I said anything…”

As you continued to rustle through your equipment to find an excuse not to look at the bounty hunter, your ears had perked up. Feeling a shift from him, you soon heard the familiar sound of metal hitting the surface of a trunk. Your eyes following the sound, you initially thought you were dreaming.

Upon the trunk next to the crate Boba was seated upon, an addition had been made to his pile of discarded armor.

There, amongst all the rest of the protective metal, sat his helmet.

Your lips parted slightly, you shifted your gaze up to Boba.

Your eyes had not deceived you.

There, looking down at you, was Boba Fett, whose face was now in clear view to you. He had a few small scars upon his tanned face, but none took away from his good looks. His hair was short, but brilliantly dark, and matched his complexion phenomenally. His eyes were dark and hardened from years of killing, and his lips looked soft, a stark contrast from the firmness of his jaw and cheekbones. A blush rising to your cheeks, a realization hit you.

Boba was a clone.

You didn’t expect that at all.

But yet…

He was one of the most handsome men, let alone clones, you had ever laid eyes upon.

After a long moment of you staring up at him, he finally spoke, his voice somewhat foreign to you without the distortion from his helmet.

“You’re staring.”

Your eyes widening a bit as a jolt of nerves ran through you, you shot your gaze back down to the equipment, the butterflies in your stomach making a hurricane inside of you.

“I-I was just surprised.” you said in response.

Another long pause from him. You could feel his eyes on you.

After a moment, you felt a pointer finger and thumb upon your chin, pulling your gaze up to the bounty hunter sitting in front of you. Your blush darkening, you gazed upon his freshly bare face as he studied your features, almost as if he were committing it to memory. A moment of this later, before you could even process what was happening, Boba Fett leaned down closer to you, catching your parted lips in a kiss.

His lips were just as surprisingly soft as they looked, and tasted vaguely of smoke, but not unpleasantly so. Your breath being taken away, you fluttered your eyes closed as you reciprocated, your soft lips melding oh so perfectly with his.

He was too damn good.

You wanted-

Before you could finish your thoughts, Boba pulled away from you. The absence of his warmth made your eyes flutter open, and you were greeted with the sight of his eyes boring into your own, as if he were looking into your very soul.

Maker above have mercy. He was wayyy to damn good at this.

His face lingering next to yours a moment longer, he decided that enough was enough and leaned back, the muscles in his chest and abdomen rippling as his back made contact with the walls of the Slave I again.

While you were staring up at him absolutely dumbfounded, he spoke.

“No more overly dangerous jobs. I promise.”

Swallowing, all you could do was nod in response.

You could still feel the phantoms of his lips upon your own as you continued to fix him up. Hell, you could feel his eyes on you the whole time.

You would never admit it, but you fucking loved it.

You hoped that Boba would be like this from now on.

Little did you know, however, he planned to be.

Even more so than you could ever imagine.

~~~

TAGS: @captainrexstan , @spaghetti-666 , @breakfastpizzagalaxy

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #mandalorains #fanfiction #fanfic #star wars bounty hunter

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martinskis-lydias · 4 years

Text

🤤😂🥰I rewatched Wolf Moon yesterday (honestly it’s been a while) and I had some thoughts

hot start to a pilot episode tbh: police radio and dogs, phenomenal; good song playing when you see scott in his room

pull ups, yes, thank you

Scott’s sink is kinda gross? like rusty and shit idk it bugs me every time i see it

But look how cute! a soft boy and his fluffy hair! I kinda love his fluffy hair, but I do like his hair shorter in later seasons

the jaw too, i LOVE posey’s jaw

love that he was ready to fight a predator barefoot also ICONIC STILES ENTRANCE

This interaction is prime Sciles

Scott is always portrayed as the dumb friend (and yes Scotty has done some dumb stuff I will admit) but he’s the one of the two of them that questions what they’re doing and what could possibly go wrong so... maybe not that dumb

they’re trying to hide from the police: stiles loudly running through the woods, scott yelling “Stiles!” pretty loudly (immediately makes me question the thoughts on either of their intelligence)

And why didn’t Scott just admit he was there in the woods with Stiles? What could the Sheriff do that was worse than being stranded in the woods at night with no ride home?

The CGI deer and flying inhaler were just 👌

Also don’t know if Posey’s doing it on purpose but I love the asthmatic breathing as he’s walking through the woods

And i’m soRRY BUT HOW DID HE NOT NOTICE THE BODY ALMOST IMMEDIATELY IT’S NOT THAT FUCKING DARK

His back hitting that tree when he fell down that little hill had to have hurt, it looked really hard

Why did Peter look like he did as the Alpha but Derek and Scott never did? and yes i know they started insinuating that Scott might end up getting there but is it just that murder makes you look more like a monster? am I missing something?

Baby Colton! Jackson’s a dick but I fucking love Colton

STILES WEARING A TSHIRT, A HOODIE, AND A SUIT JACKET JUST WTF why did the costume dept keep putting him in suit jackets the first few episodes?

is it just me or is this principicals suit way too big? apparently i’m a snob about suits

literally the first time i saw Crystal i was in LOVE she’s gorgeous

Lydia’s outfit 🥰

Who is this girl that’s friends with Scott and Stiles? Where did she go?

(Stiles thinks Allison is hot hello Stallison feels)

Posey’s hat hair is so fucking cute

THE LACROSSE! COBRASTYLE MONTAGE! JACKSON STOPPING A PLAYER WITH HIS STICK FOR THE DRAMA!

Lydia and Jackson have such a toxic relationship 🙃 and i hate it honestly

Scott gets enhanced senses and immediately thinks he’s dying: a mood

why does stiles know off the top of his head when the full moon is? i couldn’t fucking tell you when the full moon is ever unless i looked at a calendar

STEREK STEREK STEREK

Hoechlin’s cheekbones - hello sir

also his eyebrows

you ever think about the fact that Derek can hear Stiles just casually mention the massacre of his family like that? and that this probably happens a lot when he first gets back in town?

Posey’s hair is so inconsistent in this episode it’s kinda hilarious

So... did those cats just not get fed that night?

“She’s just frightened” “That makes two of us”

that dramatic head tilt when Scott glows his eyes at the dog in the trunk

also that dog is SO CUTE

this scene is so cheesy but it’s so cute

“Tougher’n that” IDK WHY BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT THERE IS KATE ARGENT

AGAIN with Scott not being as stupid as everyone thinks he is! just throwing out a word like litigious? Nah man my boy is smart

I wish “Definitely yes” became a bigger thing with them idk

POSEY’S BUTT WHEN CLIMBING THAT LITTLE HILL ON ALL FOURS

Posey in a pool, Russel with the hose, iconic

“Where. Are you getting. Your jUiCe?” “...My mom does all the grocery shopping” Literally one of my favourite scenes

Coach pulling Scott aside to say he made first line is such a bad scene but i love Orny so much and Scotty boy’s lil smile is so cute

Stiles “researching” 😂

Why is Stiles’ bed at such a weird angle?

Melissa Ponzio is fucking GORGEOUS

Did ppl actually go to a highschool party like this? Or was I just a hug loser?

Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t that guy in purple hoodie dancing Dylan?

Scott couldn’t walk straight but got in his car and drove home i mean...

DEREK IN HIS LEATHER JACKET 🤤

You can’t tell me that a small part of Allison wasn’t a little thrilled that such a hot guy drove her home, no matter how annoyed she was at Scott

Scott wearing pants in the shower; the fake hand; phenomenal

I like the first show of his fangs though! they were good fangs, and he had a cute lil lisp

Scott jumping to it being Dere after literally seeing him twice is a bit of a leap (yes Derek is a werewolf but Scott goes way past that and assumed that because he seemed a little sketchy or mean he must have murdered that girl??)

The dramatic jump out the window and landing in the puddle

i’m really glad they changed the look of Scott’s shift a bit? idk i just didn’t like it

awkwardly running on all fours through the woods

Victoria just looks so affronted at the sight of Stiles lol

CHRIS JUST TURNING AND WHIPPING OUT THE GUN YES (i have a thing for Chris)

derek just say you didn’t bite Scott you dumbass

“The bite is a gift... we’re brothers now”

Why hadn’t Stiles changed by the time he picked up Scott? What had he been doing all night?

Let Stiles be excited you’re a werewolf Scotty boy, someone has to be

YO i remember seeing the Chris being Allison’s father reveal the first time and being absolutely FLOORED

Honestly I love the Pilot episode, it’s so good

I mean, there are parts that are bad or cheesy or whatever but I still love it?? probably the nostalgia

#teen wolf rewatch #teen wolf #liveblog #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #derek hale #allison argent #lydia martin #jackson whittemore #melissa mccall #sheriff stilinski #chris argent #victoria argent #kate argent #tw: 1x01 #tw: wolf moon #shut up alex

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mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Two bassists in rhythmic love; John Deacon x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay so this was a part of @sohoneyspreadyourwings‘s Secret Santa giveaway. And SURPRISE @thosequeenboys I AM YOUR SECRET SANTA!!!!! It was so nice getting your approval on some aspects of that I added into this. So this fic is a crossover b/t BoRhap and Rocketman since you reader are the bass player to Elton John.

So pairing wise you’ve got John Deacon x reader for romantic

And platonic Elton and Bernie.

I hope you enjoy this you lovely darling and it was great to be your Secret Santa :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@simonedk

@kairosfreddie

@mexifangorl

____________________________________________________________

“Deacy no!” I shrieked.

“Deacy yes.” He mocked.

“Hehehe Nohohoho……stop!” I tried to get away but there was just no stopping this endless torture.

“You know what’ll make me stop love.” He taunted.

“I can’t…..plehehehase. I love you.”

“Aww and I love you too. But it still won’t get you out from saying what I want you to say.” I shrieked and cried out once more as he moved from tickling my sides to my ribs.

“Okay! OKAY! I GIVE I GIHIHIHIVE!! I’LL SAY IT I’LL SAY IT!” he ceased his tickle torture and I finally confessed what he had wanted me to say before this tickle torture started up. “John Deacon is the handsomest, most talented and funkiest bass player out there. And he’s also a jerk.” I added which made him squeeze my hips but I squealed and pleaded, “Okay, okay! Okay I was joking! I didn’t mean it!”

“That’s what I thought.” He said as his hands left my hips but then came up and cupped my face. His thumbs gently stroked my cheekbones and he whispered. “How did I ever get so lucky to find someone like you?”

“Believe me, I ask myself that everyday about you Deacy. Guess it was just—fate.”

“I’ll take that.” He said as he leaned down and lovingly and gently captured my lips with his. I lifted my hands up and stroked through his newly cut short brown hair. I felt his thumbs gently stroke both sides of my cheeks as our kiss continued until the need for air became dire. “You sure you like the new hair?”

“Yes John. I mean as much as I’ll miss braiding your long, flowing locks, this short hairstyle suits you. But I swear to you, if you ever give yourself a mushroom I will use it as a pillow.” He softly laughed and smiled the adorable million dollar smile that made his eyes cringle at the corners.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He lay down beside me and I placed my hand over his chest and listened to his heartbeat while I felt his arms wrap around me.

Now I know what you all maybe thinking, how in the world did I ever get someone like John Deacon of Queen to be the love of my life? Well that all started a couple years ago at a disco club.

*Valentine’s day, 1974*

It was another day, another day of hell. I mean why must they make a holiday for couples? Just to make those who are single feel bad? I had just gotten done performing alongside a very good friend of mine, I think you all may know him.

“Oi (y/n)! We’re heading down to Ringo’s pub, why don’t you come with us.” The familiar Middlesex accent proclaimed. I cringed and said.

“Sorry Elton, I’m not feeling it tonight.”

“And just why is that?” the Lincolnshire voice of my other pal Bernie Taupin spoke up as he came around the corner.

“I just—I see no point in going out.”

“Oh c’mon (y/n). I need my bassist with me. Your my wing woman.” Elton said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“You and Bernie will do fine without me. Now go on have fun, don’t let me be your Debbie downer.” I said as I grabbed a bottle of wine from the catering bar.

“No way (y/n). Now look I know how you’ve felt about this holiday but who knows. Maybe you’ll find someone tonight.” Bernie said as he came up and gently ruffled through my hair.

“I doubt it.” I said depressingly.

“Oh c’mon darling you have to come. You’re coming.” Next thing I knew, both boys had me by my arms and they dragged me out of the stadium and out into the world.

Then like any other scenario, even though the boys stayed with me for like the first half hour, I ended up alone at the bar when our manager John Reid came by and Elton went with him. Bernie then came across a beautiful girl and he went to spend time with her.

I sighed heavily as I fingered my beer glass and decided to just take my leave since the boys were clearly enjoying themselves, plus I was sick of looking at all the couple dance and make out with each other. As I stood up and turned around, I bumped into someone spilling their drink onto their shirt.

“Shit! I’m so sorry I-I wasn’t paying attention I should’ve looked to see if anyone was coming up from behind me.”

“It’s alright love, really. No harm done.” I looked up and the first thing that caught my eye was this man’s sharp features. His nose to a point but it just suited him, as well as his unique hazel/grey like eyes. He had long, dark brown hair that came down past his shoulders.

“Are—are you sure? I could get you another drink. Or help you wash off your shirt.”

“It’s fine love, really. I was meaning to throw this old thing out anyways. Really there’s no harm done.”

“Okay well, at least let me buy you a new drink. Please I insist.” I urged my last statement as he went to argue. He softly smiled and accepted my offer. “What did you have?”

“Just a pint of beer.” I nodded and asked the bartender to get me a pint of beer for the guy and she nodded.

“John Deacon.” He said. I turned and looked at him questioningly. “My name, I figured you’d like a name of the man you’re paying back with a refill of his own drink.” I awed in understandment and said as I held my hand out.

“(Y/n). Your ‘assailant’ of sorts.” We shook hands with each other and the second our hands touched, I felt this spark. I know it sounds cliché but it’s true. As his pint came back, he asked me.

“So what brings you out here tonight?”

“Well—two of my friends thought I could use a night out. Better than spending Valentine’s day alone with a self-pity party for being single.”

“If—you don’t mind me saying I find that hard to believe.”

“What exactly?”

“That a—beautiful woman like yourself could possibly have no Valentine to call her own.” I snickered and said.

“Well believe it pal. And what about you? Won’t your date feel offended with you talking to me?”

“Actually believe it or not, I’m in the same boat as you.” I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Seriously John?”

“Yes. I—don’t have a girlfriend. Just—hadn’t had found the right one yet. Plus with my touring schedule it’s hard to settle down to find one.”

“Touring? Are you in a band?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m the bassist for a group called Queen.”

Oh my god! How could I not recognize him before?! Queen was the second band that Reid was managing. I had both of their records at home and I listen to them almost religiously.

“Wow, Queen ehh? You guys are—phenomenal.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean I don’t mean to sound like a crazed fangirl but it’s just what you four do I’ve—I’ve never heard any other band do such a thing. And I must say your bass playing is probably the best I’ve ever heard. Not even I’ve been able to so such a thing.”

“You play bass?” he asked me.

“Yeah.”

“Do you perform for a band as well?” at that question I knew I was hesitant to answer. In my past relationships I did mention to my former ex-boyfriends that I was Elton’s bass player and it always ended with two stories.

They were using me to get to Elton, or they just wanted to brag to their friends or former girlfriends that I was a bass player to a famed rockstar. Treating me like more like a trophy than a human being.

“No, no not really cut out for a band. But I do play bass. Have been since I was 12-13 years old.” Now part of it was true except for the band part.

“Same for me.”

“Really?”

“Really.” We both laughed and just began conversing about our favorite types of music and other things in general like where we grew up, what we studied in University, that type of stuff.

It wasn’t until Elton’s song “Tiny Dancer” came on the speakers and that moment I started feeling a little queasy mixed with heartbreak because I saw as every couple begin to stand up and I saw that it was practically the whole club.

Not a single person was left standing as they started gathering around the dance floor. I sighed solemnly but that’s when John surprised me by saying.

“I—don’t mean to sound to sudden but uhh…..would you….I mean that is if you’d like. Would you—like to dance? With me?” I looked at him surprised. John Deacon of Queen was asking me to dance? Pinch me I must be dreaming.

“Sure.” We set out drinks down and he held out his hand for mine. I took his hand and he soon led me to the dance floor.

We stared face to face with each other and our hands stayed entwined with each other’s. He looked at me asking permission if he could place his arm around my waist. I nodded and as I felt his hand stroke across my side, shivers ran up my spine and (while I tried to be discreet about it) I felt my breath hitch.

We then began swaying from side to side as the club lights shined a beautiful pink, purple and blue (like how it would be at your senior prom or Valentine’s day dance).

As John and I swayed to the melody of Elton’s piano playing and hearing his enchanting voice go through the speakers, I couldn’t find myself looking away from John’s eyes. I felt my face burn red, god my—my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest at this rate.

Was—was this what it felt like to fall in love? Like truly in love?

For the rest of the night Deacy and I were quite the dancing pair. And it turns out he’s got some funky moves in him. And of course I don’t like to brag but I have been told by some friends of mine that when it comes to dancing, I’ve got a good step or too, I guess that’s why I chose to play the bass, more time for dancing if your focused on the harmony and not melody.

I was currently laughing at some funny story that he had just shared about one of his bandmates. I don’t really remember what it was cause at this point I was going a bit tipsy from the drinking we had done together.

“God I—I didn’t think I was gonna have a good time tonight but now—since you came John, I—thanks you.”

“I think you mean thank you.” I giggled drunkly and that’s when I heard Bernie’s voice whistle out.

“Oi (n/n)!” Ahh shit. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no Bernie don’t you dare come in now! Or at least let it be just you. “Ahh there you are. We lost you for the night and we—ohhhh I see what this is.” He teased as he spotted John.

God Bernie was such a tease when he was drunk.

“Uhh (y/n) do you know this guy?” asked John.

“Know me? Please she and El—”

“Elena! His girlfriend Elena and I go way back. Yeah this guy is mutual friend of mine. But it seems he’s gone off the deep end so I guess it’s time to take you home lad.”

“But aren’t you gonna introduce me to your…..”

“No its best we get you into bed. Wouldn’t want Elena to skin my head now would we? I’m so sorry John but I think it’s time I head home. I’m glad to have met you.”

“Likewise. I’ll call you next time I’m free.” I smiled and bid him one last goodbye before dragging Bernie away.

“What was all that shit about? I don’t know any Elena’s.”

“I know Bernie Jesus just keep walking. Is Elton still here?”

“No he and Reid slipped out about 2 hours ago.” That’s great. “Now call me crazy, but was that you and John Deacon of Queen there?” he asked as he finally reached outside. I stopped him and kept him steady.

“Yes. Yes it was him.”

“Oh hohohoho. Bassist on bassist ehh?”

“Shhh! Would you shut up Bernie!” I hissed.

“So—did you tell him we’re technically partners cause of Reid managing both them and you and Elton?” I felt my stomach drop and my mind went fuzzy but I refused to answer him as I went up to the curb to wave us a cabbie. “(Y/n)?”

“Hmm what?”

“You—didn’t tell him did you?” he asked me.

“Yeah no I heard you the first time Bernie.”

“You didn’t. God (n/n) why?” he dragged out the why.

“Because Bernie I……I don’t wanna talk about it okay!” finally a cabbie came and I helped him inside and as I told him the address to our hotel and he took off driving.

When we arrived at our room, since Bernie was too drunk to go to his room, I allowed him to stay in mine since for whatever reason I was given a two bed room when I had asked for just one.

I dropped him on the spare bed and he groaned out.

“Thanks for smothering me. Planning on ridding of me?”

“Please, if I wanted to be rid of yah I could think of worser ways to do it. Now go to sleep yah wally.”

“Not until I know—just why you didn’t tell Deacon the truth of who you really are?” he said as he sat himself up and began fumbling about as he took his shoes off.

“I already told you Bernie I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“No, no, no, c’mon.” he sat up and flopped right beside me, sitting rather close to me and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Spill your guts lil’ sis.” The corner of my mouth crooked upwards in a slight smile as he called me that.

“I think you know Bernie, please don’t make me say it.” He then ahhed in understandment.

“Afraid he might turn out like those other bastards?”

“I mean he’s a famous bass player of a growing band yes but—even then what if he……” I trailed off.

“Hey now.” He hugged me close to him and rubbed my back. “I’m sure he won’t be. But if you don’t tell him the truth now, he’ll find out somewhere else, and he’ll feel like he had been used.”

“I know. And I don’t wanna do that to him cause…..I think I—love him.” He mocked a dramatic gasp as he covered his mouth. I shoved him which made him snicker.

“And I’m happy for you love. Truly I am. So please—consider telling him.”

“I will. Thank you Bernie.”

“You’re my sister (y/n). Always will be.” And with that he passed out on my bed.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Why couldn’t he have had enough strength to get back to his bed? But in the end I tucked him into my bed and decided to sleep in the spare bed. I switched out the light and soon I passed out.

Months after meeting John Deacon, it was just nonstop touring. Not only with us but Queen was doing their first ever American tour for the first time. But I took Bernie’s advice and the next time John and I talked with each other, I told him what I really did for a living.

Surprisingly he accepted it like it was a normal thing and said that it was cool to know another bassist in the lime life of the Rock ’n Roll. We kept in contact whenever we could, writing letters to each other to the occasional phone call or two.

I was practicing some bass riffs while occasionally looking through a Rolling stones magazine reading rubbish reviews of Queen’s music.

“I see that my little bass player is doing her literary stalking of the man of her dreams.” I groaned and said.

“I swear Elton you say that term one more time, I’m gonna pop you off with my bass.” He just grinned that shit-eating grin of his at me before coming up and ruffling my hair while poking my cheek.

“Oh come off it you know you love me too much to do that.”

“Oh bugger off yah rotter!” I snapped.

“Alright Reg stop teasing her.” Bernie said as he came up onto the stage and sat down beside me. “Besides, it’s not her fault that she’s practically head over heels for John Deacon. ‘Oh Deacy I miss you soooooo much. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. Why can’t we be together again?’” he mocked me by speaking in a high pitched voice.

“You both are going to hell.” I laughed sarcastically. They just ended up laughing and that’s when Elton said.

“Well hope you’re ready to give Queen a good show tonight.”

“Wait what you mean?” I asked.

“Oh did I forget to tell you? I’ve invited the lads to the show.”

“You did what?!” I shrieked standing up.

“Oh whoopies.” And with that he walked away. I felt myself tensing up and that’s when Bernie asked me.

“Hey, you okay?”

“That fucking wanker!” I snapped as I raced out and locked myself in my dressing room. I felt my chest constrict as I felt like I was having a freakin panic attack. I felt myself hyperventilating and tears were forming at the corner of my eyes.

“(Y/n)?” I heard after a knock at my door. “(Y/n) c’mon love. I think you’re overreacting.”

“No! Bernie. You are underreacting. It’s one thing that you both tease me relentlessly about my little crush on Deacy. But now I find out that I’m going to have to perform in front of him. I can’t go out there!”

“Okay, okay. Look I’m sorry we’ve been making fun of you. But you are a kickass bass player that I know John will love to see up there.”

“But what if I mess up on one of the songs? How close are the seats? What if he’s up front? God my wardrobe could be see through with those lights. I’ll freakin flash him if I go out there!”

“You wore that ensemble Elton’s first night at the Troubadour and it was not see through.”

“What is going on here?” Oh shit here we go.

“Mr. Reid I—” I then heard the banging on my door grow louder as Reid’s harsh Scottish tone snarl out.

“Less you want to be replaced because believe me there’s plenty out there, I suggest you put your big girl pants on and stop acting like a little bitch!” Oh hell no he didn’t. I opened my door and the first thing I did was sucker punch him.

“Never. Ever. Call me a bitch.” I glared at him and picked up my bass once more and walked out of there with the tension in the room still so thick you could cut it with a knife.

As it got closer to concert time, I took a few deep breaths and began jostling around shaking my nerves out.

“Did you serious sucker punch our manager?” asked Elton.

“He called me a bitch.”

“Okay that I can understand. But you better be careful, you know Reid can easily fire you for that.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I know cause bassists are easily replaceable. Now can we please just do the show so that way I can humiliate myself in front of Deacy and the rest of Queen already?” I drummed against the neck of my bass before going on stage to join the guitarist Rickey and the drummer Stevie.

Surprisingly the concert had gone very well and by the end of it all, we were all backstage and Bernie hugged me.

“See, didn’t I tell you? You were brilliant out there!”

“Thanks Bernie.”

“So this is the famed bassist that Elton was telling me about.” I turned and low and behold there stood the famed frontman Freddie Mercury, along with Deacy and Roger Taylor, the drummer of Queen.

“Not to mention the bassist that our own bass player won’t stop going on about. I swear he must’ve caught flies throughout the entire show, couldn’t keep his mouth shut at all.” Teased Roger which earned him a harsh nudge in the ribs from Deacy. He came up to me and he said.

“You were phenomenal up there.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely. I—I can’t believe I never asked to see you play before.” I lightly blushed at his comment then to try and change the topic before he could even notice, I asked him.

“Where’s Brian? I thought he’d want to see this.”

“He would but—he’s currently at the hospital.”

“What? Why? Is he okay?”

“Well…..while we were touring in America, Brian came down with a bad case of hepatitis.” I gasped.

“Oh my god. Is he gonna—”

“Last we heard they managed to stabilize him. But they’re debating about whether or not they’ll amputate his arm.” I was horrified. Oh my god Brian I—I can’t believe it. No one deserves something like that.

“Do they know what caused it?”

“The bloody doctor in Australia didn’t know the difference between a clean and dirty needle. We’re trying to file a lawsuit against him.”

“And damn right he better fess up. But wait what about the rest of your American tour?”

“It’s cancelled. Mott the Hoople agreed that Brian needed to go home and recover. Elton got us these tickets because he thought it would be a good distraction for us for a bit. We hadn’t stopped worrying about him.”

“I’ll bet. I mean if it were Bernie or Elton in Brian’s shoes I’d be throwing a panicky fit.” I placed a comforting hand on Deacy’s shoulder. “I’ll be keeping him in my thoughts. But I believe he’ll be back on his feet soon.”

“Thanks (y/n). It really means a lot. I—I can’t lose anyone else in my life.” There was this intense look of sadness in his eyes. One part of me felt like asking him what he meant by that exactly but I knew it wasn’t my business, he’ll tell me when he wants to tell me.

“I’m always here for you. Anytime you wanna talk, you know my number. And we share a manager so hopefully Reid’s not too much of an arse about it.” He chuckled, forming that adorable eye crinkle smile of his.

“Here’s hoping. Hey do you—wanna go out for a drink? My treat.”

“No, no, no it’s my treat tonight.”

“But you just got done doing a full 2hr concert, the least I could do is pay for your drinks.”

“Yeah but you paid for my drinks back when we first met. Now it’s my turn.” I stated as I began to walk away with Deacy walking beside me.

It wasn’t until another several months, in fact around Christmas time that I finally got to see Deacy again. Elton was hosting a Christmas party and he invited the boys of Queen to come. Of course the only requirement that my dear friend required of all his guests to wear is your most ugliest sweater imaginable.

So I came in with a sweater my nana made for me a couple Christmas’ ago just before I started University. It was green with a single red stitching pattern along the collar, and sleeves. At the center was a mama goose wearing a Santa hat and a red ribbon around her neck.

I was currently helping with the catering as I brought I my mum’s special recipe for Christmas pudding. I had just given a lovely couple some punch (which I’m sure Elton might’ve spiked it with rum or vodka).

“Never did I expect you to be the catering lady.” I looked up and there stood John wearing probably the ugliest sweater I’ve seen all night.

“Oh god!” I tried to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah go ahead laugh, Roger and Brian had a field day with it.” It was a white wool sweater with Santa in his sleigh with his reindeer at the head. But what got the real kick was that Rudolph’s nose actually blinked and lite up.

“No, no it’s—it’s actually cute.”

“No come on give me your best insult.”

“Deacy I swear. And it’s creative. How did you get the nose to light up?”

“Well it was hard don’t get me wrong but all it took was some small LED lighting, a couple of wires and a long lasting battery. I doubt it’ll catch on though. I seem to be the only one with a light up sweater.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you might start a trend one day.”

“And how about you? Where did you find yours?”

“Oh this old thing’s literally been buried in my closet for years. It was a present from my nan at the start of University. I only wore it when she was around and them immediately took it off.”

“Well—I think it’s cute too.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. I love the concept. The Christmas Goose.” We both laughed and I asked him.

“So what can I get you? Fudge? Fruitcake, although I don’t know why someone brought that. No one’s even touched it.”

“Probably for the gag.”

“Possibly.”

“I think I’ll try the pudding.”

“Well you’re in luck cause I made that. My mum’s secret recipe.” I told him as I readied it for him and handed him his plate. He took a spoon and took a taste of the pudding. I then saw him close his eyes and moan n bliss.

“Oh my god.”

“You like it?”

“Oh it’s heaven. You made this?”

“Yeah. But like I said it’s my mum’s secret recipe.”

“You mind sharing it with me?”

“Absolutely not, then it wouldn’t be a secret recipe anymore.” I sassed.

“Oh come on, I’ve shared with you plenty of secrets. Music wise or personal. The least you can do is share this delicious recipe.” I grinned and that’s when Bernie came in and said.

“Might as well forget it. Elton and I have tried for years to get her to tell us what her mum does in that pudding. Elton claims there’s crack to make it addicting.”

“Which of course there isn’t.” I piped in.

“Well then I’m going to need seconds that’s for sure.” As he took another scoop of pudding.

“Thankfully I made plenty for this party. Every year it seems to be popular.”

“Well I may be your frequent requestor for this pudding.” John said as he began to place other assortments onto his plate. As I gave him some punch I warned him.

“Might wanna be careful with the punch. Pretty sure Elton gave it a kick with something. Just an hour ago I saw a woman literally pass out after having over 7 cups.”

“Well thanks for the warning.” He said as he took a small sip. Almost immediately scrunching his face. “Oh yeah, I can taste the vodka.”

“At first I thought it was rum. But then again he must’ve put the rum in the eggnog.”

“Maybe. Well I’ll be back soon.”

“Can’t wait.” I said with a shy smile. As Deacy walked away I heard two loving sighs.

“I swear Melina, no matter how many times I see them talk to each other, it gets cuter every time.” Fawned Elton.

“I can’t agree with you more Sharon.” Fawned Freddie. I glared at them and flipped the two singers and pianists off but all that did was make them laugh.

Once the party got into full swing with people at different parts of the house playing various games such as “Toss-A-Cross”, “Rock ‘em, Sock ‘em Robots”, “Mouse trap”, and other various board games while Christmas music kept playing in one room.

While in the other room several of us were gathered for a Christmas style game of Musical chairs. The song choice was Chuck Berry’s “Run Rudolph Run” which was the perfect song choice. I kept my eyes on everyone and each chair. Sometimes even stopping before quickly racing forward and finally claim the closest chair I could just as the music stopped.

So far people were dropping like flies until it came down to a few other guests, me, Deacy and Freddie. Elton was in charge of the vinyl and I swear he was being a little shit right now. At the point he was only letting the track run for like 3 seconds before lifting the needle off the track.

As each guest lost and another chair was taken away, it all came down to me, Freddie and Deacy. I eyed the boys competitively and as the music resumed we began walking around the two chairs. And cheeky Deacy he began to use my own move against me as I would bump into him.

“Move it Deacon!”

“In your dreams (l/n).” He would stay still for another second before moving again. Suddenly the music stopped and both Deacy and I sat down, the two of us grinning up at Freddie who surprisingly didn’t get offended.

“Alright love birds, the time has come.” Freddie said as he came to collect my chair.

“We aren’t lovebirds!” both Deacy and I snapped in unison. We looked at each other as the crowd all ooed at us. Deacy and I turned away blushing and stood face to face of each other over the last remaining chair.

“You’re going down Deacy.” I taunted.

“Please (n/n). I’ve never lost a game of musical chairs. And I don’t plan on starting now.”

“Well I’ve been playing this game when you were still a toddler. I always win at this game.”

“Alright you lovebirds if you wanna make out go outside and do it.” Exclaimed Elton. “Otherwise get ready.” The song started over and Deacy and I stared at each other eye to eye as we both circled around the chair. The two of us using my method of stopping just to delay the walking before quickly racing behind the other person.

Elton then lifted the needle off the track and all was silent. We both somehow ended in the chair, but of course we were nudging the other person till I managed to boot him out for two seconds.

“No fair she booted me off. Clearly I sat down first.”

“Oh just take it like a man John Deacon. I beat you fair and square.”

“No because you cheated!”

“You can’t prove it.”

“Yeah? But I can make you confess it.”

“And just how do you intend on—GAHH no! Don’t you dare GAAAHHH!!” I squealed as I felt his fingers beginning to tickle my sides. Then I don’t know how but he somehow switched us so that he was now sitting in the chair and I was on his lap.

“Well it’s clear now. Deacy wins!” Freddie claimed.

“What!? Oh fuck you lot!” I proclaimed.

After all that excitement, I decided to walk out onto Elton’s balcony to get some fresh air from the hot house.

“You’ll catch your death of cold if you stay out here.” I grinned and said.

“Well one can only take so many bodies in one room before it gets too hot for you. Even with this sweater on.” Deacy soon came up and stood beside me. The two of us stood there close together in silence for a while and he said.

“So you ready to accept that I won?”

“Yes. You John Richard Deacon are the all-time winner of Musical chairs and will always be the reigning champion.” I stated in a sarcastic tone. He raised his brow at me before looking at me with one of those famed funny looks which made me giggle.

“Now there’s no need to be a sore loser about it.” I stuck my tongue at him before he bopped my nose. I twitched my nose before turning back towards the city lights.

The silence rang between us once more before we both turned towards each other, our mouths opened like we were both going to say something. I then laughed awkwardly and he said.

“Were—you going to say something? Please you first.”

“Oh it’s nothing important I just…..it’s crazy to think that it’s been ten months since we’ve met each other.”

“Really? Has it been that short?”

“Yeah. Feels like we’ve known each other for years.”

“Yeah it—it does.” I saw him fiddle with his fingers and then he said. “(Y/n)?”

“Yeah?” I then noticed that his cheeks started to look rosy, and it wasn’t due to the cold.

“Do you—I mean I was thinking uhh, uhh…..” he trailed off before sighing deeply. “You wanna head inside?” Oh. That’s all he wanted to ask me. He looked like he wanted to say something else.

“Yeah. Sure.” I said solemnly. We both walked back inside and as I closed the door, I noticed something hanging from the door that I know I didn’t see when I got in here. “Uhh Deacy?” he looked at me and I gestured with my head for him to look up. His eyes followed my direction and there we saw it.

Hanging over the door was a small mistletoe.

“How did that get there?” he asked.

“I think I might know.” I looked over to the door and I saw two heads both black haired and auburn quickly hide back behind the door. I looked back towards Deacy and I said. “We don’t have to do it you know.”

“Honestly I…..” he began before trailing off shyly again. His eyes lowered down almost in shame like he wanted to tell me something but he was afraid to say it.

“Deacy?” I softly urged him.

“Would it…..be so bad if I did? I mean cause I’ve always…it’s just that I—” he stammered out before sighing again. That’s when he suddenly leaned in and gently placed his lips over mine.

I felt his chapped lips gently caress mine as he softly kissed me. But then a split second later, he groaned and pressed the bottom of his palms to his forehead in regret.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have done that. It must be the spiked punch. I’m so sorry (y/n)……” but before he could say anything else, I kissed him back. I cupped his face in my hands as our lips collided in a more passionate dance.

Oh god why hadn’t I done this earlier? Ever since Valentine’s day I’ve been wanting to kiss this boy and now finally on Christmas Eve I get that chance. Even though his lips were chapped, they still felt like heaven against mine.

And when I felt his arms wrap around my waist pulling me closer, I knew I had him.

“FUCKING FINALLY! The ship has sailed!” Elton proclaimed so loudly I’m sure people could probably hear from downstairs.

“Oh Sharon it’s beautiful! They’ve finally did it! I knew they would didn’t I tell you!” wept Freddie.

“FYI (n/n) your bedroom is ready for you in case you want to….”

“Oh fuck off you two perverts! Now get out and leave us be!” I proclaimed as I pushed them a few feet from the door before slamming it on them. “God those two are the worst I tell yah.”

“Couldn’t agree more. Leave those two to their own devices and England would fall.”

“More like the entire world would fall.”

“But they are right about one thing.” I felt his arms wrap around from behind me and felt him nuzzle into my neck. “They did manage to bring us together.”

“Yeah you’re right.” He kissed my temple down to my cheek and then he asked me.

“Now did I hear Elton right about him saying you had a bedroom here?”

“Yeah. Whenever Elton and I would do late night rehearsals or I got a little too drunker than him, which is a miracle might I add, he had one of the thousands of spare bedrooms made up for me so I’ve taken claim of it ever since.”

“And just where might the bedroom be?” he asked as his voice got a bit deeper, huskier and I felt him gently nip at my earlobe. I shivered and I said.

“So we’re really gonna—”

“Only if you want to love. I don’t want to seem like I’m pushing you.” I turned to face him and I said.

“Deacy, to be honest I’ve wanted you since the day we met.” He grinned and pecked my lips once more, this time with a bit more confidence than his last peck.

“Great minds think alike then.” I grinned and took his hand and we raced off towards my bedroom.

The entire night we made love underneath the Christmas moon, memorized each other’s sweet spots and exchanged kisses with each other.

Honestly, that will forever be the greatest Christmas I ever will know.

*Present day*

“I’m so glad we met at that club.” He said as he stroked down my hair.

“Me too. Guess I need to thank Elton and Bernie in our wedding speech for dragging me there.”

“And I’ll need to mention Freddie in mine for that same reason.” He took my left hand which held the diamond engagement ring he had given me earlier this morning.

“I love you my handsome Queen bass player.”

“I love you more, Elton’s first female bassist.” We pecked each other’s lips and continued our cuddle session with my head resting over his heart, my fingers gently tracing patterns over his collarbone and chest while his were stroking through my hair and I felt his other hand rub and stroke down my spine.

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calcifermovesthecastle · 5 years

Text

Absent in Body- Chapter 4

Chapter 1-https://calcifermovesthecastle.tumblr.com/post/185386984555/absent-in-body-chapter-1

Chapter 2- https://calcifermovesthecastle.tumblr.com/post/185388013405/absent-in-body-chapter-2

Chapter 3- https://calcifermovesthecastle.tumblr.com/post/185389562845/absent-in-body-chapter-3

NSFW warning- Wrote it as if MC was a female

Even though you’re in the magician’s realm, you can’t sense them or Scout. You sit far back on the shore, far enough that you’re sure even a magical wave wouldn’t be able to reach you. Your chest aches as you cough deeply, but you stare out at the ocean and wait. It’s all you can do.

Being away from Asra, after both of your confessions, puts a deep sadness in the pit of your heart. You just wanted him here with you.

Hours seem to turn into days as you stare out at the waves, just waiting. Something catches your eyes as it breaks the surface of the water, and you focus on it. Must be seafoam…

Wait.. That’s not seafoam. That’s hair.

Asra’s hair.

He walks towards you, a smile on his face, and with a strangled cry, you leave the beach behind, shooting up and sprinting towards him, tripping and falling, but getting back up, you close the space between the two of you, throwing yourself in his arms and burying your face in the crook of his neck. He catches you, holding you off of the ground, his arms tight around your body, stroking your hair as you bawl into him, clutching his back.

“I told you I’d come,” He murmurs softly, kissing your hair. “I’m here. I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong, mc.” He sits in the sand with you, placing feather-light kisses all over your face, inside your wrists, anywhere he can reach. He pulls you into his lap and holds you as you tell him everything, the hopelessness you felt, just how painful and jarring it was to feel nothing then everything during that storm, and how the only thing you could feel was pain in its various forms. How he was there, but he wasn’t really until now, and how much it hurt when the Magician took on his form. How you were so, so scared, and you didn’t feel strong, nor did you want to be, because having him hold you like this made you feel small and protected.

Your voice thick with tears, you pull back, your eyes tinged slightly red, your body trembling, to see him smiling at you with nothing short of pride and adoration.

“You are brave! You are so fully, phenomenally beautiful and strong! Here.” He presses his lips down into your chest, and you feel magic wash over you, your chest suddenly warm, the pain easing as the water evaporates from your lungs, your nose and throat no longer burning, and with the absence of pain, exhaustion slowly seeps in to take its place. You look up at him, your eyes full of gratitude.

“Thank you.”

He positively beams at you, using his thumb to chase away stray tears still rolling down your face.

“Do you know how I know you’re brave?” He murmurs, his hands cupping your face, his eyes like magnets, holding your gaze. With a tiny shake of your head, he smiles, taking your hands instead and massaging them as he talks. “When you got here, trapped in that storm, you didn’t give up, even with the torrent of pain and discomfort became overwhelming. Inside the tower, you believed you would be safe here, and you made it to the beach. Instead of shutting down and retreating inside yourself, you reached out to me when you were scared. And you waited so patiently for me, even when you were scared and in pain. And I love that about you.”

With those words, he envelops your mouth in a kiss, laying down in the sand with you. The gentle pressure turns into an open mouthed kiss, his tongue running across your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter your mouth as he rolls on top of you. He pulls back momentarily, taking in your features.

“Asra,” Your face flushes, the words all but refusing to come out. He catches your meaning, and a playful smirk flickers on his features.

“Are you sure?” It’s a serious question, and you nod, opening your mouth to try and speak again.

“After.. After all that pain… I need…” You avert your gaze, your words getting stuck in your throat. Asra’s breath ghosts over your mouth, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Need what?”

Closing your eyes, you swallow.

“I need your touch. I need you to hold me like you’ve never held me before. I just need the feeling of love to wash over my body until I forget about all of the pain I’ve been through. And after, I just want to fall asleep in your arms like I used to on hard nights, if only to get a little rest before starting back where we left off to get my body back.”

-NSFW-

He devours your mouth in a kiss, passionate but gentle. Your arms reach around his middle, and you can feel him sigh against you. “How can I say no to that? Especially when you look so cute.” He taps your nose with his finger before leaning down and kissing your mouth once more, trailing to your jaw, and using his hand to lift your chin, exposing your neck to him. He kisses gently at first, those turning into open mouthed kisses, to lightly nipping the skin right above your carotid artery. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send tingles down to the ends of your body.

Asra deftly undoes the clasps to your Masquerade costume, shedding your body of it. Your bare chest exposed to him, he leans down and kisses each of your breasts, pulling on the nipple gently with his teeth, before moving and kissing down your torso, stopping just above your flower and looking up at you.

“You know, I thought you were beautiful before. But I’m gonna be honest, it’s kind of hard for me to keep my composure when you’re willingly laying there for me like this. Stay still.”

He smiles and rolls your panties down your legs, spreading your thighs and kissing inside them, teasing you relentlessly. A soft sigh escapes your lips you clench your fists in the sand, trying to stay as still as possible, the need to squirm making your legs clench. Asra pauses, looking up at you.

“Too much?” He asks innocently, his eyes gleaming. “I haven’t even finished on your thighs yet.”

You shake your head, your face flushed and your breath shaky. Asra laughs, and you can feel the breaths he takes on your thighs, causing you to shiver. He grins up at you cheekily, planting a kiss just left of your flower. He plants another just to the right, and then above your clit, his breath hot and damp.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can stop~” His tone is playful, and he reaches for your hand, tracing circles into the back of it with his thumb.

“Please don’t…” Your voice is a whisper.

“Don’t what? You’re awfully vague.” He chuckles, making sure to keep his mouth centimeters from your flower, so you can just barely feel his mouth moving when he speaks, and you can feel his breath against your sensitive skin.

“Don’t stop! Please…” your voice nearly cracks. “I need this”

“Asking so nicely.” Asra murmurs, lazily running his tongue up along your flower, just once. You squirm under the feeling, causing him to pull back. “But you’re moving, and I told you to stay still.”

“Please…” You say again, your voice taking on a tone of desperation. Asra chuckles.

“Then stay still.”

His hands come up and hold your hips down, his tongue tracing your folds slowly, his eyes never leaving your face. It’s torturous, but oh so nice. The pressure he has on your hips keeps you from squirming, but the restriction causes you to shake. Asra pulls back for a moment, looking up at you, his eyes full of love.

“You were so good. I love you.” He smiles before going all out, sucking, licking, and fingering you, allowing you to squirm as much as you needed to. Sparks flared in your vision, his name escaping your lips in a trembling voice. He keeps this pace for a while, until your body seizes up and trembles uncontrollably, warm fluids spreading across the area he just vacated. He watches you in a mix of wonder and love. “So beautiful.”

He leans down and licks you one final time, flicking his tongue over your most sensitive spot, causing your hips to buck. Pulling back, he crawls over you once more and kisses you gently on the mouth, then the eyelids. “And sweet. So tasty, my dear.”

You flush, hiding your face in your hands, a smile fighting to steal your features. Asra laughs and nuzzles your neck with his nose, brushing his lips softly over your skin.

“Do you need me to back off with the comments? Be honest.” He’s smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkled. You peek through your fingers and shake your head, your face radiating heat. “You sure?”

“Ye- yes…” You’re still out of breath. He nods and pauses, his costume shimmering, then disappearing altogether. You can’t help but stare, causing him to laugh again.

“Am I distracting you?” He asks, his tone amused but not biting.

“M-maybe a little…” You answer honestly, your voice high and squeaky. Asra laughs again, positioning his hard member at the entrance of your flower.

“I won’t tease you as much. Just keep saying my name.” He slowly edges his way into you, allowing your hips to adjust to him. His name escapes your lips in a whisper, holding onto his arms as he slides all the way into you. He leans down and kisses you sweetly. “Are you ready?”

A single nod from you, and he slides out most of the way, and then back in. A few more times like that, and the pain disappears as you hold onto him, your eyes closed, murmuring and moaning his name over and over again. He caresses your face with one hand, tracing your lips, your jaw, your cheekbones with his index finger.

“You’re so perfect, my dear. I love you.” His pace quickens ever so slightly, and before you know it, both of you are only able to say the other’s name. The rest of the world falls away, your foreheads pressed together, and you gasp, meeting his eyes. Concern flickers across his face. “What is it?”

“Like- like before when you-” You groan, your hips bucking up, and his eyes widen in surprise, before smiling softly.

“I see,” He says, his pace quickening again until you tighten around him, warmth spreading down there once more. He rocks a few more times before coming himself, filling you up with a new warmth. He trembles for a moment, before pulling out and lying next to you.

-NSFW OVER-

His body shimmers again, and his regular clothes take form around him. He smiles wistfully up at the stars above, heaving a deep sigh.

“Can I do that too?” You ask quietly, looking over at him. He holds out his arms to you, embracing you against his chest.

“Do what, love?” He murmurs, kissing your head. You gesture to his clothes. He nods, craning his neck down to look at you. “Just imagine what you want to wear, and visualize it over your body.”

You think about something soft, warm, dry, and not covered in sand, and a warm, shapeless cotton gown shimmers and takes form over your body. Asra smiles, pride glistening in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” He murmurs, kissing your head once more. “You’ve come so far. Get some rest now.”

Asra’s breathing is calm and deep. Your head on his chest, his heartbeat and breathing calms you, lulling you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

#Arcana #asra alnazar #Arcana Asra #asra x mc #asra x reader #arcana fanfic #asra smut #n/s/f/w #asra lemon #arcana lemon

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lihikainanea · 5 years

Note

I just love reading your recommendations! Have you ever been to Copenhagen? I'm going for the first time next month and I am so excited! What are some of your favourite spots for shopping and food? I'm trying to add things to my to-do list!

I do! I go to Copenhagen quite a bit as well. If you’re going next month, you’re smack in time for the Christmas markets and they are just....nani, they are so beautiful. The HC Andersen one on Nytorv off of Strøget is the best, in my opinion. Make sure you get the gløgg and some æbelskiver. I literally averaged about 5 mugs of gløgg a day last Christmas :-P

Food....brunch rules in Copenhagen. It’s the best I’ve ever had in my life. Mad Og Kaffè on Sønder in Vesterbro is my favourite--they have this mix and match brunch plate and it’s just phenomenal--everything is the best. The best scrambled eggs, the best smoked salmon, the best damn avocado, just all of it. It’s very hygge inside too and their coffee is great. Union Kitchen near Nyhavn is also amazing and they have very vulgar stencils for their cappuccinos which make me laugh, their brunch plate is also lit. Møller Kaffe & Køkken in Norrebro is great too, for grub or just a coffee. And listen, I’m kind of a nerd in that I love porridge. Fucking LOVE it, okay? And there’s a restaurant in Copenhagen devoted to...just porridge. It’s called Grød, there’s locations in Vesterbro and on Jægersborggade. Honestly, I still have dreams about their porridge with homemade caramel, roasted salted almonds, and apple slices. It’s to die for. And, as a bonus, their dishware is so beautiful that I came home with 6 bowls and 6 coffee mugs.

Copenhagen Smørrebrød is a must for lunch, they have a location just off of Strøget but for quick, cheap and easy hit up anywhere in Torvehallernes, a food hall.

For dinner...nani, listen to me. Come in close. This is what you’re going to do. You’re going to get your ass to Restaurant Puk. When you get there, you’re going to see a Danish GOD and you will wonder how anyone can be so beautiful, and whether or not your eyes are playing tricks on you. He will be tall--very tall. He will have a square jaw, smattered with stubble. He will have dark hair, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.

That, sweet nani, is Mattias. You are going to go up to him and you are going to ask him if he remembers the Canadian girl who came in a few months ago. The one who showed him some new tricks. And you are going to watch those beautiful cheekbones of his turn pink.

I mean...the food at this restaurant is also really good. It’s traditional Danish grub, in a cozy, slightly cramped space. You’ll need reservations but I think you can do it online. Prepare to drink a lot of akvavit, particularly if they like you and decide to do a lock in. I mean, to be quite honest, it’s worth going just to eye fuck Mattias. He’s that hot.

Høst is another great bet--it’s quite expensive, but beautiful and a real treat for yourself. Paludan Bogcafe is a great little spot for lunch that’s close to everything.

For shopping, don’t miss Magasin du Nord near Nyhavn, a giant department store. Just walk Strøget, to be honest--it’s massive and never-ending. Illums Bolighus will have some incredible Christmas things around that time of year, and also--don’t forget to check out Tivoli. You can buy a day pass for the park or for the park & rides, and they turn it into a literal Christmas wonderland. It is fucking magical and I just cried the whole time last time because it was so pretty.

And one last final note...please, please, PLEASE, do yourself a favour and try Julbrygg. It’s the Danish Christmas beer by Tuborg and literally the Danes take the day off when it’s released. Like, the launch of it for the season is a national holiday for them. It is damn good.

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sassyshoulderangel319 · 5 years

Text

The House in the Forest

“Wait. You have a human hostage?” a voice demanded in the other room. I groaned in complaint, stretching my sore neck. Human? Why did the voice say that like they weren’t human? What was going on? Why was I so sore? Where exactly was I and how did I get here?

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s a guest,” a more familiar voice replied. “She came willingly.”

The first voice said something in another language that probably translated into, “Bull crap.” There was a brief pause. “Humans don’t come to our lairs willingly, Killian. Unless they’re hunters.”

“She’s not.”

“I smell fresh blood. I can tell she’s not. Hunters don’t often get bitten.”

Fresh blood? Guest? Bitten? Came willingly? Were they talking about me?

Why was my head so foggy? Why couldn’t I think straight? What exactly was going on? Huh?

Another brief pause. “She’s awake,” the first voice said.

The familiar voice went, “Huh. So she is,” and then was silent.

“Think she can hear us?”

“Probably.”

“Show me her,” the first voice ordered.

The familiar one laughed heartily. “Oh Auggie. You’re cute if you think you can order me around.”

A door creaked open. There was a moment of silence. Then another creak. I shuffled. I was lying down, that much I was certain of. My hair was sprawled out on several silk pillows.

“I’m guessing the silk nightgown didn’t belong to her originally.”

“Of course not. But I’m a generous host.”

“Sure you are.”

The door closed, but I could still hear talking.

“She smells like a hunter, but she’s not one,” the first voice, Auggie?, remarked.

The second voice, Killian?, chuckled. “I think she’s a Van Helsing descendent.”

“Van Helsing?!”

“Yes. But she’s harmless. Drawn to this place like a moth to flame. I think she’s adorable.”

“So you fed off her.”

“Hunter bloodlines always taste the sweetest. But I didn’t take enough to kill her.”

What?

I tried to sit up. My neck was sore and didn’t want to support the weight of my head. Sitting up seemed like it wasn’t an option. I groaned in complaint at the pain in my neck.

“Sounds like your most recent escapade isn’t reacting well,” Auggie remarked.

“She’s not an escapade, Augustus,” Killian retorted. “She’s a—”

“I know. A guest,” Augustus finished, exasperated. “But she’s a guest you fed off of. That makes her an escapade.”

Killian sighed dramatically. “You’re so old-fashioned. And I just... got carried away, is all.”

There was a pause—during which I tried to sit up again and failed.

“Got carried away?” Augustus quoted. “Oh no. You’re not...”

“Not what?” Killian challenged.

“In love with her.”

A loud scoff assaulted my sensitive ears. “Of course not! She’s human---she’s fragile. Did you know it takes less than a pound of pressure to break human skin? That’s why paper can cut them!”

“I’m aware. But you know the rules, Killian. Humans are off-limits. Too fragile. Too short-lived. You’d be better served to have a cat for company.”

“Cats don’t live as long as humans do.”

“No but they are rather better company,” Augustus said.

Killian’s eyeroll was almost audible. “Whatever. I have stuff to do and a guest to entertain. Go home, Auggie. Before the sun rises and you’re stuck here all day.”

There was a quiet Whoosh and the talking stopped.

The door creaked open and a hand cradled my head. “You’re looking a little weak, darling. I think I got a little carried away,” Killian’s voice said. “I took too much from you. I apologize.” His face swam into my vision, cloudy at first and slowly coming into focus. Dark eyes, dark hair, gauntly pale skin with sharp cheekbones. He looked as familiar as he sounded but for the life of me I still couldn’t figure out why.

“Don’t remember...”

“Anything? No I’d imagine not. One of the downsides of vampire venom is it blocks the previous few hours from your memory—so you don’t remember the vampire. It’s a defense mechanism that keeps vampires from being outed to the world. It helps us live in secret. Vampires are a curse on the human world. We’re not supposed to exist. So we stay separate from humans as much as possible, despite them being our food source.”

“Vam... pire...?” I mumbled.

“Yup. That’s me, dear.” Still cradling the back of my head, Killian helped me sit up. “Ooh. I’m sorry. I should have cleaned you up better. The back of your neck is coated in dried blood. My sincerest apologies.”

“Why did you... feed off me?”

“Well, as I recall you gave me consent and we got a little carried away.”

“I... don’t recall.”

“No. I’m aware you don’t. Which, I grant you, makes it difficult to verify that I’m telling you the truth. Those memories of last night are still there, just blocked off by a curtain. You can find them if you look hard enough.”

I stared at his handsome face. “Uh...”

“Perhaps this will jog your memory.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips. I molded against him immediately—instinctually—like I’d done it thousands of times before.

———

“Whoa,” I muttered, looking around at the dilapidated mansion. “This is still here? I thought the city was gonna tear it down for being a safety hazard.”

Cautiously, I crept toward the front door. The top hinge was broken, making the door hang slightly, warping the other two. Caution tape was crossed over the front door in a narrow X while a Do Not Enter sign hung haphazardly on the wood. The whole place smelled of time. Old wood. Old weathered stone. Mildew and plants slowly reclaiming the elements of the house for the earth.

I pushed the front door in and ducked through the X of Caution tape.

The powerful flashlight in my hand would definitely be useful once the sun completed its descent and plunged me into darkness.

I’d been in this old mansion hundreds of times. I’d wandered it a lot from the ages of twelve to twenty-two. Whenever I needed a getaway or just some alone time. I knew the ruin better than anyone. The creaky stair leading to the crumbling upper levels. Which windows had glass in them and which might cut me for the broken glass on the floor. I knew where the wooden floors had rotted away and which rooms to avoid.

No matter how old I was when I came here, I always felt like there was a pair of eyes watching me. But as I got older and nothing bad happened, I stopped thinking too hard about it. I liked to imagine it was the ghosts of residents past watching me appreciate their home.

I made my way to my favorite part of the mansion.

The ballroom. It was remarkably intact and the acoustics were perfect. I could bring a portable speaker, set it with my old iPod on the floor, and dance without disturbing anyone.

Which was what I did. Despite the deepening twilight, I wanted to dance.

So I turned on my speaker and started to waltz as though I had a partner, slightly taller than me, whisking me around the floor. I was used to leading myself—every partner I’d ever had was flimsy and didn’t know how to dance so I ended up being in charge, despite being a good follower and longing for a strong partner to play the leader once in a while.

I smiled at the old ballroom as I danced around, imagining what it must have looked like in its prime. Gilded torch sconces, beautiful instruments on the slightly-raised stage, perhaps tapestries, gleaming windows.

As I spun, I slowly came to the realization that I was actually seeing the ballroom transform—not just my imagination projecting. “Holy cow—what the—?!” I breathed.

A slow clapping reached my ears. “Phenomenal dancing, my dear,” a voice said.

I whirled.

The man standing in the doorway under the torchlight was intoxicatingly handsome. Dark hair and eyes with marble-fine skin and a tantalizing smirk.

I backed away. “Who are you? What happened to this place?”

He chuckled and stepped into the ballroom. “You’ve loved this place rather fondly, haven’t you?”

“That doesn’t answer my questions.”

“Alright. My name is Killian. And you’re in my home. You’ve always seen it as a ruin because that’s what I allow humans to see. It’s been enjoyable, wasting a decade watching you wander around this place, seeing only what you can see and enjoying it regardless.”

“How... what? How do you make it look like a ruin?”

The man—Killian—chuckled. “I can make humans see whatever I want.” There was a Whoosh and suddenly he was directly in front of me. “I’m a vampire, darling.”

Holy crap. Run. NOW, I thought frantically.

My legs refused to budge.

“Holy...” I whispered.

His hand covered my mouth. His skin was frigid to the touch—like he’d been making snowballs without gloves on. “There’s nothing holy on these grounds, my dear,” he purred. He growled the word holy like it physically pained him to say it aloud. I took a step away, making his hand fall off my mouth.

“Don’t... come any closer,” I said.

He smirked but didn’t close the distance between. “Or what? You’re in my territory on these grounds. You came willingly. I can do whatever I want to you.”

I backed up again. “Vampires are monsters.”

“We’re a curse on your world, yes,” Killian agreed placidly. “But ‘monster’ might be a bit harsh. Most of us do our best to live in secret and only prey on guilty souls.” He tilted his head, dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. “And oh, how easy it would be for me to play right into your expectations and use my gifts to... convince you to stay here. But I won’t. I’ll let you choose of your own accord the path you take tonight. I’m too fond of you to force you into anything.

“I’ve watched you from your childhood wander this place. Spent a decade observing, listening to you rant about your problems to the walls as though they had ears. I know you better than you think I do, Angelica. You think I’m a stranger, but I’m not.”

I suddenly recalled every time I came to this place to sit on rotted furniture and yell to the forest and the ruined house about my problems. To talk aloud to myself just for the sake of processing the chaos of my thought stream.

He’d been listening?!

That was just embarrassing. I’d talked about boy problems in high school! I didn’t need some age-old vampire listening to me complain about how Brian from biology stared at me the entire class period instead of the whiteboard and try to figure out what to do about it.

My face turned bright red and I took several more steps away from him.

He took a deep breath through his nose and snickered. “You’re blushing. Makes it easier to smell your blood. It smells sweet, if you’re wondering. Most people are mildly salty, but there are a few bloodlines that are sweet.”

“You have the emotional maturity of a twelve-year-old,” I snapped.

“I have the emotional maturity of a twenty-five-year-old, actually,” he retorted, a playful glitter in his eyes. “That’s when I was turned. When my body froze. It was in the middle of the Revolutionary War. There were a few vampires on both sides turning other soldiers into vampires to gain an advantage over the other side. But your ancestors hunted most of them down and killed them in the centuries following the war.”

“My ancestors?”

“Yes. The sweet-smelling bloodlines invariably belong to vampire hunters.”

I stared, but Killian obviously wasn’t done.

“You ranted a lot about how your brother was always treated better than you. I imagine he’s been groomed into the next generation of hunter.”

“Boys are always treated nicer than girls. I was forced into responsibility at a young age while he was allowed to dink around like a lazy oaf with bad behavior well into adulthood. I doubt he’s been trained as a hunter.”

“You might be surprised. Your brother is Samuel Beckham, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

“My friends have had run-ins with him. Carrying a wooden stake.”

I stared in alarm. “Uh...”

Killian smiled gently. “The world is much different than you know. Now. If you would allow me, I’d like to show you around my home now that I’m allowing you to see it as it is.” He offered me his elbow. I stared at it.

“Why now?” I asked.

“You’re an adult and I figured you probably wouldn’t run screaming at this point.”

“Being an adult and running away screaming are not mutually exclusive,” I pointed out.

“Indeed not,” he agreed. “But you’re brave enough to face the world so you’re brave enough face me.” He took my hand and looped it through his elbow, leading me from the ballroom. I relaxed slightly upon figuring out that he didn’t seem to have any intention of hurting me. He picked up on me loosening up and smiled at me.

As he gave me quite the grand tour, I found he was quite charming. He’d toned down the “intimidating supernatural creature” vibes and ramped up the “gracious gentleman” vibes. He was chivalrous and nice.

And a little flirty.

After he showed me the three-floor mansion, we ended up in a beautiful, moonlight-bathed room on the top floor’s balcony.

“So... what was with the intimidating act earlier?” I asked.

“I thought it might be good to see if you were scared. I’ve long held a fondness for you that’s deepened as you spent more time here and I wanted to see if you were brave enough to actually put up with being friends with a vampire.”

I turned and glanced at Killian. “You... want to be my friend?”

“Darling, in my mind, we’re already friends. I liked to think of myself as your imaginary friend when you were a child. Now that you’re an adult, I think we can be real friends now. You’ve spent so long talking to my walls, you now might as well talk to me.”

I fidgeted. “Thanks.” We were quiet for a minute. “So... my family really lied to me about being vampire hunters, huh?”

“Well, I’ve heard of Samuel Beckham, and your father is Richard Beckham, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I had an encounter with him. About five towns over. Few years ago now. He tried to kill me.”

“Can’t believe they lied to me,” I muttered. I looked Killian directly in the eye. “I want you to tell me everything you know about my family.”

“On one condition,” Killian said. “You stay the night here. It’s too late for you to go home and I have... a plethora of guest bedrooms for you to sleep in.”

I thought for a moment. He had a point. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

Killian smirked and pulled me into an embrace.

There was a Whoosh and suddenly we were in a beautifully lush parlor, sitting on the sofa, slightly turned to face each other.

Killian told me stories of more than just my father and brother—he had stories of my ancestors. Generations of vampire hunters in our area, traveling to hunt, occasionally joining with others. Killian always managed to avoid the hunters in my family, but did talk with them without them realizing he was a vampire.

He told stories in the most captivating way. I couldn’t look away, completely drawn in. He was engaging. I kept leaning forward, like I was trying to dive into the actual story.

Before I knew it, we were pressed together, my shoulder snuggled into his upper arm. I was staring up at his black eyes like he had the secrets of the universe in them.

After several minutes near the end of his stories, he blinked. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I was using my compelling to capture you in the story or not,” he said.

I cleared my throat and leaned back, face flushing.

Killian cleared his throat as well and leaned away. “I should—I should get you something more comfortable to sleep in and show you to your room.” He disappeared with a rush of air that blew my hair away from my face. Another breeze struck me as he returned with a beautiful white silk gown in his hands. “This is an old nightgown of my sister’s. When she was alive. It should fit you.”

I took it into my hands. It was beautiful and must have been expensive back when it was made. Heck, it looked like it would be expensive now.

“Thanks.”

“Here.” He scooped me up and after a blast of air I was set down in a beautiful guest room. Four-poster bed with lush hangings and mahogany framing. An armoire and wardrobe of the same wood.

“Wow,” I said. “This place is beautiful.”

“Get, uh, get changed and get some rest. It’s already late for a human. I don’t sleep but you must be exhausted.”

Once he said that, I realized I was tired. “Thank you,” I said. I let Killian shut the door and I changed into the nightgown. When I was done, he knocked.

I opened the door.

His jaw went slack. “W... wow. You look... great,” he said.

“I mean, it’s a nightgown,” I said.

“No, I—I mean it. You look—”

“Shut up,” I hissed, grabbing him by the collar with one hand and the back of his head with the other. He smirked before planting his lips on mine.

We got carried away very quickly. I felt Killian’s fangs graze the skin on the back of my neck, making me shudder. The shiver travelled from my head down to my feet.

“Killian...” I whispered, barely more than a breath.

“Angelica... I—I got carried away. I’m sor—”

“Stop apologizing for being what you are.”

“I just—”

I took a shuddering breath. Tonight was full of impulses. “If you want to, do it,” I whispered.

“I’m a better monster than that.”

“You don’t have to be with me. You don’t want to hurt me. I’m giving you permission.” I brushed my hair off my neck. “Bi... bite me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“Alright.”

Two sharp stabs entered the back of my neck. My eyes rolled into the back of my head.

Spots entered my vision and everything went black.

———

I pulled away from Killian. “I... I remember,” I said. “I...”

“I swear I didn’t necessarily—”

“I trusted you, Killian,” I said. “I don’t know why. But I did. I do. You’ve... completely captured me. You gave me truth when my loved ones gave me lies. You pulled me in and I’m not sure I want to be let go.” I slid closer to him, pressing our fronts together, hands holding his shoulders.

“Angelica,” he whispered, hands circling my hips and gently forcing me back a half-step. “Stop tempting me. Your blood is dry but it’s exposed and being that close might make me lose control again.”

“You were in control last night,” I pointed out.

“No I wasn’t. I started in-control, but lost it. It’s why you passed out and why you’re weak right now. I took too much from you.” He pushed me even farther away from him with his grip on my hips. “Don’t get caught up in the throes of my abilities. I have no control over luring prey toward me like an anglerfish in a dark trench. You’re drawn to this place like a moth to flame and I think it’s because I’m here.”

“You’re saying your unconscious allure is responsible for my impulses last night?”

“Possibly.” His eyes were closed and his face half-turned away from me. “I should... help you clean up the dried blood.”

Neither of us moved. “Killian?” I asked after several drawn-out moments of silence.

“Hmm?”

“What... should I do now?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re literally hundreds of years old. You have a lot more life experience than I do. And I just found out that my family is a family of vampire hunters and never told me about it. What should I do?”

Killian looked surprised. “I... it’s your life, Angelica. I can’t tell you what to do. My opinion isn’t one you really want.”

“Maybe not but I asked for it.” I blinked. “Wait. You bit me. I’m not going to turn into a vampire, am I?”

He shook his head and flicked his dark bangs out of his eyes. “No. I made sure none of my venom stayed in your system. You’d turn if I bit you and didn’t suck the venom out of your blood.”

I nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Angelica... you could... you’re welcome to stay here.” He looked away from me, letting me go. I leaned toward the loss of contact, body yearning to keep touching him. I released a breath that I’d held and shook my head, trying to clear it.

“It’d be ironic, wouldn’t it?” I asked.

“What?”

“If you turned me into a vampire. A daughter of a bloodline of vampire hunters—a vampire herself.”

“I would never turn another person into what I am. I was forced to become the way I am—and I would never—”

“What if I asked, one day?”

“I still wouldn’t. Not unless you were actively dying.”

“Killian, look at me. Please.”

He turned and barely met my eyes. “You know a lot about my problems from my years of wandering your house and ranting at the walls. You don’t always see me for who I really am. A fun-loving, caring, happy optimist.”

“I have seen you that way too. When you dance. I see the real you shining through.”

I blushed. Killian stiffened.

“Let’s finish cleaning you up, okay? The dried blood is really getting to me.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

———

“Can I... hmm. How do I put this? I want to ask my family about the hunting thing. And if they don’t answer or lie to me... I don’t want to be around loved ones who do nothing but lie. So I’ll come back here,” I said as Killian French-braided my hair. I didn’t ask him to. He’d just done it. “If that’s alright with you.”

“You’re always welcome here,” he said. “If you weren’t, I would have made the illusion so dangerous it would have scared you off.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He tied off my braid. I turned around and pressed my lips to his. He closed his eyes and sighed, tilting his head for a better angle. After a moment, he pulled away just enough to whisper against my lips, “This passion, Angelica. I don’t think it’s you. I think it’s my influence on you.”

“We’ll see. If I still feel like I want to push you against a wall and kiss you when I’m at my house, far away from you, we’ll know whether this impulsive passion is you or all me.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining. But being with humans romantically is strongly discouraged. Most of us aren’t strong enough to resist the temptation of having fresh blood so close by so often.”

“Are you?”

“Look at what I’ve already done to you.” His fingers ghosted gently over the two scabbed wounds on the back of my neck.

“I let you,” I pointed out.

“But I went too far. It’s my fault.”

“You went through so much trouble wanting to be my friend and now you don’t want anything to do with me.”

“You’re wrong on one count and half-wrong on the other. You say I don’t want anything to do with you and that’s false. I want you to stay here. I want to be around you as often as possible. But I want you to be safe and I don’t think you will be if you stay with me. I’m not going to pretend like you didn’t hear Augustus talking this morning. Even other vampires don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in close proximity to even one human.”

“And what am I half-wrong about?”

“When you were a child I wanted to be your imaginary friend and protector. You were innocent and sweet but sharp as a tack.” He paused. “But, when you became an adult and you vented your problems to the walls and puzzled through them in a calm and collected manner, I started to feel differently.”

“You said something about how your fondness deepened?” I muttered.

“Yes. I fell for you. It’s one of the reasons my charm is so potent to you. My subconscious recognizes that my consciousness wants you closer and acts accordingly. If there was any supernatural blood in your veins, all of my abilities wouldn’t work on you. But you’re human so you get the full force of a predator’s adaptations to lure prey. And I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“Stick to the plan,” I said, swallowing thickly to force the other words I wanted to say down. “I go home and ask my family. If I still want you when I’m there the way I want you here, I’ll be back. If it’s just your charm, you’ll never have to see me cross your threshold uninvited ever again.”

I adjusted my jacket and moved to leave.

Killian snatched my wrist. “Angelica,” he said, tone almost pleading. “You’re always welcome here. As a friend. Even if you don’t want me the same way, I’ll accept it and always be here to welcome you back.”

“Killian, I...” I didn’t know what to say to that.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I never want to pressure you into anything.”

“I know. You seem like an incredibly genuine man,” I said. “I’ll... probably come back.” I smiled and left the mansion, feeling in my pockets for my phone, iPod, speaker, and flashlight. I had everything I came in with.

The French braid left the two scabs on the back of my neck exposed, so I pulled the hood of my jacket up and bunched it on the back of my neck to hide them. My family’s reaction to them would confirm or deny Killian’s claims that my father and brother were hunters.

The farther away from the mansion in the woods I got, the more I felt like I could breathe. Like there had been some sort of tense cloud hanging over me that lifted as I put distance between me and the house.

That had never happened before. But, then again, I’d never had a conversation with the occupant of the house before last night.

The closer I got to home, the more I felt my heart pulling me back in the other direction. Toward Killian’s mansion. I wanted to go back. I’d felt safer there than I had... even in my own home. Maybe my instincts were reacting to my father and brother being lethal all along and Killian wasn’t lying to me. Because of course it had occurred to me that he was lying to me—he was a vampire and I was a vampire’s prey—but he’d never gone out of his way to lure me in before. In ten years of me using his house as a sanctuary he hadn’t spoken to me until last night.

Hmph.

I pushed my front door open. “I’m home!” I called into the void.

“Angel!” my mom exclaimed, slamming into me with a strong hug.

“Oh. Hi Mom.”

“You were gone all night last night!”

“I know. I’m okay, I promise,” I said.

“Don’t ever do that again, Angel, without telling me, okay? Where were you?!”

“I went to Gina’s house for the night. We just got talking and I passed out on the sofa.” I made a mental note to text Gina to tell her what I said so if my mom asked, she could cover for me. We had a mutual agreement to cover for each other, but without warning it could be hard.

“You scared me.”

I shucked off my jacket. “Sorry Mom.”

“Did Gina braid your hair?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait. Honey.” Mom caught my wrist as I moved to go into the kitchen to find some breakfast. “What’re these?” She brushed my braid off the back of my neck and revealed the bite wounds, touching each one gently. They were slightly tender and made me flinch.

“Mosquito bites. I itched them hard.” I went and found the toaster still out. “Are Dad and Sam home?”

“Dad’s at work. Sam’s upstairs with Diego.”

Diego was Sam’s best friend. If I knew them as well as I thought I did, they were probably upstairs playing Halo or Minecraft or something that they would shout at me for not understanding if I poked my head in.

“Okay. Just wondering.” I made some toast.

“So what are your plans today?”

“Think I’m gonna go on a hike.”

“Mom?!” Sam shouted from upstairs. “Is that Angelica?”

“Yeah!” Mom called.

Thundering footsteps preceded my brother’s entrance to the kitchen. “Where were you?” he demanded.

“Gina’s.” I ignored the hostility in his tone and munched on my toast. “Why do you care?”

“I was worried about you!”

“You’ve never worried about me once in your life.”

Sam shoved my braid onto my shoulder. “What are those?”

“Mosquito bites.”

“On your neck?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s it to you?” The hostility in my tone slowly ramped up until I wasn’t even bothering to hide it.

“Your hair was down last night. A mosquito wouldn’t be able to get to your neck.”

“You’ve never had the absolute horror of getting a bug stuck in your hair when it’s as long as mine,” I deadpanned. “Trust me when I say it is possible and it sucks.”

Sam blinked. “Can I talk to you alone?” He took me and my slices of toast out the back door, away from our mom and his best friend. “Those look like a vampire bite.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” I growled lowly so any neighbors outside wouldn’t hear.

“What?”

“You and Dad are vampire hunters, aren’t you? That’s why Dad travels so much for work.”

“How did you find out?”

There it was. Confirmation that my family lied to me.

“Does Mom know?”

Sam chewed his lower lip. “Yes.”

“Great. So I was the only one left in the dark. It all makes sense now, why you were the favorite child—endlessly indulged to misbehave while I was forced into domestic responsibility from a young age. You’re the one carrying on the family legacy.”

“Angel, you’ve been bitten by a vampire. Those wounds are fresh. Hours old. One fed off of you. You’re not turning—I’ve seen the transformation before—so tell me who it is and I’ll—”

“No,” I said. “What happens to me is none of your business.” I turned sharply and went back inside. I went up to my room and changed into a new hiking outfit. I heard Sam follow me up the stairs. He was glaring at me from the door to his bedroom as I emerged. “Mom I’m going on a hike!” I shouted.

“Take Sam and Diego with you!” Mom yelled from downstairs. “They could use some sunlight!”

“They’re not plants, Mom! I’ll be back in a couple hours!” I ran down the stairs, grabbed my water bottle, threw it in my backpack, and ran out the door. There was no doubt in my mind that Samuel would follow me trying to find out who the vampire was who bit me.

So I ran the whole way back to Killian’s mansion, trying to buy myself some time.

“Killian!” I shouted as I shoved the front door open. I was weak from blood-loss still and the run tired me out.

He was immediately in front of me. “What is it?”

Panting, I tried to speak. “Make... this place... look like... a ruin. And let’s... get out of here. My brother will follow me here. We just... need to buy... some time.”

“You confronted him.”

“He confronted me about the bite wounds.”

Killian scooped me up into his arms. Wind sped across my face, tangling the baby hairs that escaped my braid. “They lied to me,” I muttered.

“You came back to me.”

“I told you I would. I wasn’t gone for long but I felt like I was being pulled back here the whole time. I figured it out, Killian. I want you.”

Killian slowed to a stop. We were far away from the forest outside my town. Heck we were probably in another state. “You’re... you’re sure about that?” he asked, barely more than a whisper, setting me down.

I nodded. “Positive.” I tilted up onto my tiptoes and planted my lips on his. He kissed me back enthusiastically.

“I want you too.”

#original #original fiction #my writing #writing #fun fact #my name was almost Angel #hence why I chose Angelica #that flashback... is too long #I'm sorry #This thing is SO LONG #vampire #vampires

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only-the-gentle-survived · 7 years

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i'm actually tearing up at the thought of this being the last summary of jac/jas scenes i'll ever post... they mean so much to me and i'll never ever stop loving them or talking about them, but i feel numb that there'll never be any more scenes to talk about. so here goes. as heartbreaking/devastating/every other sad adjective in the english language as jasmine's death was (which, btw, i genuinely think it was the most traumatic i've ever had to watch), I'm unbelievably grateful for the sister scenes we got tonight and for the fact that jac and jasmine were together in the end. (also, rosie and lucy were beyond phenomenal tonight but i think I'll make a separate post on that later) firstly, the earlier scenes. it seems pointless to talk about them now, but i want to remember them for how they were and how much i loved them. their relationship will always be so special to me, and jas dying doesn't change that. if anything it makes me cling to them even harder. the way jas's little face shattered when fran suggested it was jac who made the complaint hurt my heart, as did her retort that she wasn't naive enough to expect jac to love her (especially given what happened later). jac lashing out and telling her she didn't care was awful, if those had been the last words jasmine heard from her i honestly would've lost it but thank god they weren't. jac joining in with the last line of the song made me actually sob, i wasn't expecting that at all!!!!!! it really reinforced that there's no getting away from the fact that they're sisters, especially because jac let herself feel that connection and didn't just push it away what's always been so frustrating about jac and jasmine is that they know each other SO well, better than they know themselves. jac knows how to push jasmine's buttons, knows her weakness is her often desperate need to be accepted and loved and that's why she uses it against her when she feels threatened, just like she did then. and jas? she knows jac is scarred from her past, she knows that most of the time it's all bravado, she knows why she's like that. i thought it was so moving how jac kept trying to convince her she was just cold-hearted naturally and jas refused to accept it - even when the anger is directed at her, she still sees the best in jac and wishes she could make her see it too. also, jasmine seemed so casual leaving the voicemails ("it's me, we need to talk") and it made me so happy??? i feel like that must've been a more regular thing than we know, it at least hints at more contact outside of the episodes than we know of what I wasn't expecting at all were the scenes afterwards, with jac protecting jasmine yet again. i was so sure their last interaction would be the argument and i'm forever grateful we got the next few scenes. jac calling bernie to ask her to keep an eye out made me so happy, she wasn't even trying to make a secret out of it and didn't care at that point who knew she was trying to protect jas. considering only a few months ago jac was outwardly ignoring her and doing her protecting in secret, it really showed how far they've come. and you could see how thrilled jasmine was to hear that jac was so concerned she'd gone to bernie, I'm so pleased she found out and knew her big sis was looking out for her the line about jac being "a lioness when she wants to be" was beautiful, especially with jas's "so can i" - the two of them were so fiercely protective of each other, just like sisters should be, and it was everything also let's talk about the jac/damon conversation about jasmine bc every second of it was glorious!!!! the casualness of "that's what your sister said." / "you know jasmine?" it literally sounds like something normal siblings would say. plus jac didn't correct him to half-sister for the first time ever and I don't think i'll ever stop crying "I see the resemblance now. You got the cheekbones, she got the smile" this line legitimately made me scream, quite possibly my favourite description of all time. this is forever how i'll think of them now and i love it and i obviously can't not talk about those finals scenes... like I said, no matter how horrendous it was, i am so damn relieved they ended on good terms. it was more painful because of it, but i never would've gotten over it if not. jasmine died holding her sister's hand, finally knowing she loved and cared for her, which is all she'd ever wanted. and jac, although she failed to save her (which she'll never forgive herself for), must know on some level that her being there meant the world to jas and can at least take comfort in knowing that jas knew she really did love her. of course, it doesn't make what happened any easier. in fact, it makes it a million times more painful BUT i would've never forgiven the show for ending them on bad terms, and jac would've never forgiven herself either if jas had died all alone thinking she hated her. (this was not meant to be this long but it turns out I had a wave of feelings and this all came flooding out. feel free to ignore but i just wanted to get this off my chest)

#wow that escalated #I'm so emotional I just have so much to say #can't believe this is my last recap of their scenes I'm gonna cry #my sweet babies #jac x jasmine #jac naylor #jasmine burrows #rosie marcel #lucinda dryzek #holby city #bbc holby

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writemarvelousthings · 8 years

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Ride With Me (Part 7)

PAIRING: readerxbuckybarnes au

WORD COUNT: 2.5

WARNINGS: light swearing and a bit of angst

*(Y/N) and Bucky arrive at the hospital to hear Pietro’s fate and discuss their future.

PART 7 IS HERE PEOPLE!!!! As always the feed back to this AU has been phenomenal I’m so overwhelmed, you guys are the best! Feed back is greatly appreciated!

Previous Chapter

GIFS NOT MINE

You burst through the hospital doors like a woman possessed, Bucky was hot on your tail as you both stormed down the hallway to the waiting room. You were sure you had startled a few nurses as the two of you flew down the corridor. You tried to ignore the burning smell of disinfectant, rounding the corner you were met with your friends all gathered around. You’re eyes sort out Steve and Sam first, they didn’t look too bad. Steve was sporting an impressive scrape on his cheekbone and had his left arm in a sling. Sam was sat on a plastic chair his right pant leg was stained with blood and he had a deep gash that had been stitched on his forehead. Sharon was sat next to him holding an icepack to his head, a brunette woman stood next to Steve her hand running up and down his arm. So that must be Peggy you mentally added the face to the name. The two of them were conversing with a dark haired man you didn’t recognise, they all looked up at you both but your attention was on the two women sat in the corner. Natasha’s gave you a sad smile shaking her head slightly as she rubbed the younger girls back in comfort.

“Wanda” you breathed, the brunette looked up to you, her eyes red and irritated. Letting out a pained sob wiping her cheek Wanda stood and stumbled to you. You instantly wrapped your arms around her as she buried her face in the crook of you neck sobbing softly.

“Pietro?” you asked, the question hung in the air as Bucky stood next you his hand rubbing small circles on Wanda’s back, his face was thunderous. This surprised you slightly, he was right. He did care.

“He’s been in surgery for the last hour or so, it might have been longer I’m not too sure. Everything was a bit of a blur” Sam winced, as Sharon pressed harder with the ice. You felt Wanda grip you tighter as her sobbing increased slightly.

“It’s going to be ok” you murmured softly in her ear exchanging a look with Bucky.

“Where were you two?” Natasha eyed you and Bucky. Your wet hair and damp clothing mirrored Bucky’s, it certainly looked odd.

“Not now Tasha” Bucky growled as he walked over to Steve.

“What happened?” He demanded.

“We were driving to Pegs, it wasn’t raining to hard but the roads were a wet. You know Piet; he always likes to drive fast. Next thing I know his tire blew and he went flying. Took out Sam and me, lucky we had a few seconds to react so we weren’t thrown as bad as he was. He skidded about thirty meters down the road…” Steve explained as you ushered Wanda back to Natasha, she curved her arm across her shoulders as you took Wanda’s hand in your own.

“Nice jacket” She winked at you, you gave her a small smile as Peggy came to sit next to you giving Wanda a sympathetic look. Peggy was defiantly not what you expected, she looked better suited in a law firm than sitting around with the leather clad biker gang.

“I don’t think we’ve met, I’m Peggy”

“(Y/N), nice to meet you” Your eyes traveled to Bucky, Steve and the dark haired man.

“Whose that?” you questioned quietly to Peggy.

“That’s Tony, he supplies Thor with parts for his garage. He wasn’t far from the accident when it happened” Peggy replied in a hushed tone. You nodded looking the man up and down. His dark pantsuit was coupled with a white shirt; the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The suit jacket was strewn across the small coffee table; if Peggy looked out of place then Tony stuck out like a sore thumb.

“He doesn’t exactly look like a parts dealer” Natasha and Peggy chuckled softly.

“Starks father practically owns half the city. Tony sells and builds parts on the side of running five of his fathers companies” you mulled over the new information Natasha gave you, you remember Bucky mentioning a ‘Stark’ to Thor not a few hours ago. Turning your attention back to comforting Wanda you couldn’t help but overhear the men’s conversation, from the looks of it Peggy and Natasha were doing the same.

“His bike’s a mess, but I fit those tires myself! They are made of the toughest malleable rubber I could get my hands on,” Tony argued it sounded like he was trying to defend himself, something Bucky must have sensed.

“No one is questioning your equipment Tony” Bucky tried to calm the man.

“I had to design something to withstand the speed Pietro drive at, those tries don’t just blow up from no reason. And they have the best defense to wet weather so that defiantly wasn’t a factor”

“What are you saying Start? That I need my eyes checked?” Stave growled.

“I’m sure your military approved eye sight is fine Captain” Tony snapped.

“Enough, the pair of you” Bucky barked cutting the argument off swiftly. Both men shuffled on their feet, composing themselves.

“All I’m saying is that this wasn’t an accident, someone deliberately did this” Tony sighed.

“Not someone….” Bucky trailed off. You rubbed Wanda’s arm with your other had swallowing thickly. The urge to be sick was almost overwhelming, was this Schmidt’s doing?

“Wanda?” a man dressed in blue scrubs cut the hushed conversation off as all eyes snapped towards him. He seamed slightly nervous at the sudden attention. You stood as Wanda flew to the man.

“Is he ok?”

“He’s stable, he had internal bleeding and four broken ribs. A shattered wrist, his lung was punctured from one of the ribs and he has a serious case of concussion. We need to keep him in the ICU until we’re confident he can breathe on his own. He’s hooked up to a ventilator for the moment until his lungs improve. But yeah, he’s going to be ok” he smiled; you swayed slightly as you listened to the list of injuries Pietro had. A warm had pressed against your lower back, the smell of smoke and leather calmed you instantly.

“Can I see him?” Wanda pleaded, the doctor seamed torn but caved.

“Only one person at a time, we don’t want to over stimulate him” Wanda nodded eagerly hurrying through the doors into the intensive care unit.

“Thanks Bruce” Tony shook his hand as Bruce gave everyone a nod and walked off after Wanda. Tony reached to retrieve his jacket off the table and turned to Bucky, he paused briefly surprised that he only just noticed you.

“You’d be (Y/N) I presume” you nod mutely.

“Ah not much of a talker, strange considering you had some choice words to say to little Helly the other night.” you narrowed your eyes slightly, Bucky’s hand traveled up your back beneath your jacket soothing your building anger. Tony slipped on his jacket as he addressed Bucky.

“I’ll see what I can find from speedy’s bike. I’ll call Thor, see if we can get the good old Quicksilver back up and terrorising the streets again”

“Thanks Tony” Bucky nodded to the older man who waved him off walking out of the room.

“I better get back to Coulson and let him know what happened. I’ll drop you boys home. No arguing you both need rest” Peggy’s voice was authoritative and final. Much to the displeasure of Steve and Sam, with a stern look Peggy silenced they grumbling.

“Can you drop me at work? I’ll let Clint know what’s going on. Coulson’s probably there getting a statement from Clint about last night” Sharon stood with Sam, the four of them said their goodbyes and followed Tony out.

“Peggy’s a cop?” you were surprised. You had thought lawyer or even an accountant. But a police officer, you were not expecting that.

“Yeah, she use to run the head of operations in the military. That’s how she met Steve. We have a deal with the cops, Coulson specifically. We keep an eye out on the streets. They help us out where we need it. Peg’s out main line of communication” Natasha filled you in.

“And here I thought it was all about bikes and booze” you joked falling back in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“You look exhausted, you should go home” Natasha gave you a pointed look, here yes flicking to Bucky briefly.

“No I’m fine, I want to stay. Make sure Wanda is ok” you waved her off.

“You should listen to her doll” Bucky sank down in the chair next to you. You have him a look, why did no one understand that you were fine. He must have caught your change in mood as he cleared his throat.

“I’ll go see if this place serves a decent cup of coffee. Want one?” despite the situation and that the fact that you could feel your hair frizzing you smiled and nodded.

“That would be great thanks” Bucky searched your eyes before patting your knee.

“Won’t be long” he swiftly kissed your temple, your body leaned towards him, his body radiated warmth and you craved it.

“Coffee?” he questioned Natasha who shook her head, you could tell by here confused look she had questions.

“No I’m fine” Bucky struggled and stomped off down the hallway. You reached over to grab a generic gossip magazine, your eyes scanned the pages but you couldn’t retain any of the false information as you felt Natasha’s eyes boring into the side of your head.

“What?” you caved turning to her, the magazine falling limply in your lap.

“He’s getting you coffee” She stated as if it was obvious, you rolled you eyes turning your attention to the magazine again.

“He offered to get you one too,” you pointed out.

“Yeah as an after thought…. you guys kissed didn’t you” your cheeks felt hot as your mind flashed the feeling of Bucky’s lips on yours.

“Holy shit you did didn’t you” letting out a frustrated grunt you dropped the magazine on the empty chair next to you.

“You’d be an amazing spy if this biker thing doesn’t pan out for you” you reply dryly. She laughed leaning back in her chair.

“I have to say I’m impressed (Y/N) not even a week and you’ve already got our fearless leader jumping over hoops for you” you run a hand through your hair groaning.

“It’s wasn’t part of my master plan just so you know, I moved back to get away from all the biker politics. I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy when I almost go shot” you snapped at her, you immediately regretted your words. Natasha had been nothing but accepting of you now here you were throwing it back in her face.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… everything is happening so fast and I feel like I have no control of what’s happening” you admit to the red head. There was a silent exchange between the two of you, your words hung heavy in the air.

“Look you have a past, I get it. We all do but if I can give you some advice. Bucky’s a good guy, not matter what anyone else says” you went to reply but Bucky’s arrival announcing that hospital coffee was like drinking diluted dish water interrupted you. Peering into the plastic cup with caution you looked to Natasha who was giving you a smile that the Cheshire cat would be proud of. You were glad Bucky was non-the wiser, Natasha’s it did nothing to sooth the uneasy feeling you had in your stomach. Part of you wondered if Jeremy was right to keep things from you, your life was a lot simpler that’s for sure.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke up you were curled into a ball in the waiting room chair. You head was resting on Bucky’s shoulder, his cheek was pressed on top of your head as he flicked through the magazine you were attempting to read. You scanned the room for Natasha but there was no sign of her.

“You know it’s all trash right? Non of it’s real” you mused stretching out, detaching your head from his warm body.

“So Mila Kunis isn’t single!” Bucky cried with mock outrage, flicking back a few pages.

“Damn, though I had a chance with her again” he grinned cheekily at you; you laughed slightly but then remembered where you were.

“Where’s Natasha?”

“She left about twenty minutes ago to get some spare clothes for Wanda, she conned Bruce into letting her stay the night” you hummed in understanding.

“Come on doll, you really should go home” you sighed nodding in agreement; Bucky took your hand leading you down the corridor. You walked in silence to his parked bike still outside the hospital. The drive back to your apartment was much the same, as you walked up the stairs Bucky still hadn’t said anything since the hospital and it was driving you crazy.

“Do you really think Schmidt’s behind all of this?” you finally asked the burning question as you unlocked your apartment, you turned to see Bucky looked to the ground with a dejected look.

“It wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened” he admitted, you like out a surprised gasp.

“He’s done this before? Why hasn’t anyone reported it!”?

“Because doll, he’s sneaky and he’s meticulous. Ophelia his fiancé is the same people call her the viper and for good reason” you didn’t know what to say. It felt like the longest day of your life and you wanted nothing more to fall into bed and sleep for a week. You paused trying to figure out what was the best way to word your thoughts to Bucky.

“Did you…. I mean, do you want to stay a little while?” you bit your lip as Bucky smirked slightly letting out a long breathe.

“As much as I would love to doll, you were right. Thing are moving a bit fast, and with Pietro….” he trailed off as you winced slightly. So he heard your conversation with Natasha then…great.

“I like you (Y/N) I do. I meant what I said on the dock, but my friends are my family and they need me right now. I hope you can understand, let me sort out all this shit with Schmidt first. I don’t want the next person to be in that place to be you” you wanted to be mad; you wanted to be furious and curse him and his mother out. But some twisted part of you understood; you knew what it was like trying to do the right thing. That’s why you left Chicago after all.

“I understand, just don’t make me wait to long” you leaned against the open door; Bucky’s face broke into a relieved smile as he stepped forward. His hands cupped your cheeks as he kissed you softly and soundly.

“It’s you and me, I know it. I’m always gonna come back to you doll” and for the first time in a while, you felt your chest lighten.

Next Chapter

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#avengers imagine #bucky barnes imagine #reader x bucky barnes #reader x avengers #marvel imagine #reader x marvel #avengers au #marvel au #bucky barnes au #reader x wanda maximoff #winter solider imagine #reader x winter solider #ride with me #writemarvalousthings

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mythicalmessenger · 8 years

Text

The Wages of Sin: Helios

They say old sins cast long shadows.

My shadow must go on for miles.

Last | Next | List

Can you recall what it’s like to walk into sunshine?

You don’t know real warmth until you’re basking in that golden light.

It’s something so simple, but it can be so overwhelming. I feel like everything washes away in the sun. For a moment - just a fleeting moment - I’m free.

That exact feeling is what it was like to walk into V’s gallery.

There was something about his angle choice, the way the light played over his pieces, and the vibrancy of colors...his photographs practically glowed. I wasn’t expecting it. It caught me completely off guard and reached deep inside of me without warning.

I found myself particularly drawn to a photograph of a flower basking in the sun at dawn, the pink colors playing across the clouds as the sun rose in the sky. The flower looked like it was blooming, opening its face to the sun. It was absolutely breathtaking.

When I left that day, I actually missed the artwork. The photographs were like windows to another world. They took me away from everything, everything. I could swear I dreamed of that pink sky, the sun rising off in the distance, the field below spotted with those lovely flowers. I was a bird, flying free in the air, feeling the wind caress me. It was the most peaceful dream I’ve ever had.

So, of course, I had to return to that place, return to the gorgeous photo of the flower.

I stand in front of it once more, feeling it pull me into another world again.

“Beautiful,” I murmur to myself, eyes scanning the photo with admiration. I feel like I am standing in a meadow, the grass brushing my skin. All at once, I am up in the clouds, basking in sunlight...time itself seems to melt at my feet.

I feel like I’m actually floating away right now...

I am so mesmerized by the art that I don’t quite notice the quiet man standing next to it, watching me. He says something to me, and that strange trance I’m in breaks. I stare at him, dazed. “What?”

“Do you like it?” he repeats, beautiful blue eyes patiently waiting for my response.

“Oh,” I breathe, lost in the depths of those eyes. “I...yes. I love it.”

I feel drawn to him, just like I was drawn to his photographs. Something in his eyes tells me he feels it too. Don’t they? He smiles, and I feel my heart jump. “Excuse me, but...who are you?” I ask, utterly mesmerized.

“I’m the one who took this photo,” he replies, gesturing towards the sunset photograph.

“Oh...th-then you must be V, the photographer!” I stutter. Duh. He said he took the photo.

He smiles gently at me, but I feel myself panicking internally. Outwardly, though, I give a sweet smile in return, masking my emotions well.

He probably thinks I’m ditzy. I’m such an idiot.

“You’ve been standing here for almost an hour, so I came to say hello,” he explains, tilting his head at me. “Didn’t you come here yesterday, too?”

He noticed?

I blush. I hadn’t even noticed him in the gallery yesterday. I was too busy losing myself in his world.

“Y-yes...the photo was so beautiful, I just had to come for another look.” I smile nervously, biting my lip. “I’m a huge fan of your work.”

His smile was genuinely happy. “Thank you. Please, continue enjoying it.”

He moves to walk away, but I call out, “Wait! I had something to ask you!”

He pauses, turning back to me with an inquisitive look.

“The sun is the mother of all things,” I say hastily, rubbing my arm. “Without her energy and love, the flower wouldn’t have come to life. And...I feel that love and warmth consistently throughout your photos. When I stare at them, I feel all my troubles vanish...! It feels like another world...”

He stares at me. You’re being weird. Stop it, I think, but still, I continue.

“Do you believe that world could ever come?” I ask hopefully. “A world where there is no fear or suffering, a world filled with love and warmth, the world in your photographs? Do you think that we can become like the sun some day? Is that what you’re thinking when you take these photos?”

That had to be it. I felt him calling to me through the photographs. Certainly he must have known the affect he would have!

“...No,” he finally admits, chuckling. My heart drops. Oh my god...I just tried to tell him what his own photos meant! I’m useless...

“I’m not that thoughtful,” he muses, smiling in admiration. “I don’t really think much when I take the photos. I just sense something special about the shot. It’s a feeling that comes through me, and then I know.”

“Like the breeze on an Aeolian harp,” I comment, intrigued. He laughs a sweet, hearty laugh, and I can’t help but smile. “Sure,” he chuckles, shifting on his feet. He doesn’t know what that is. That’s okay. He’s still perfect...

“But,” he adds, “When I take them, I do hope...that people can feel love when looking at them. People like you.”

My eyes widen with wonder. “You are phenomenal, V, just by the fact that you can take photos that have that affect on people.”

He smiles warmly. “Thank you. You really speak your mind, don’t you?”

“What else should I speak?” I ask, grinning cheekily. That earned another chuckle.

“Well, thank you, for all the kind words,” he says. “Do you want the photograph?”

“Ah, well, I already know I don’t have enough money to purchase it,” I say quickly, glancing back at the flower. “It’s priceless. You could charge whatever you wanted for it. I’m sure it would sell.”

He shakes his head and clarifies, “I want to give it to you as a gift.”

“What?” I stare at him, shocked, bringing my hand up to my mouth. No way. There’s no way I can repay this. Could I really own this photo?

“Tell the receptionist your address, name, and phone number,” he instructs.

“No, I...I can’t accept such an expensive piece!” I insist, holding up my hands. “It’s worth more than anything I could give you.”

He shakes his head again, stating, “Don’t refuse. If you feel love when you look at the photo, then you must be the true owner.”

“I can’t. I don’t like receiving things for free.” I don’t deserve things for free. I’m the last person who deserves this photo.

A spark lights in his eyes. “Well, how about this? I’ll give you this photograph on the condition that you buy me coffee after the exhibition.”

“W-what?!” I squeak, blushing again. Is that a date? That sounds like a date! I don’t understand...

“Your thoughts left a good impression on me. I’d like to pick your brain more about how my art makes you feel, what your philosophy on life is.” He sounds serious, but I can’t believe it. “Can I ask what your name is?” he adds.

“It’s...Rika,” I stutter, feeling dazed again. “Is that your real name?” he asks. Startled, I shake my head. “No...” “Well, I’ll tell you my real name first. It’s Jihyun Kim, but I go by V to most people.”

“Ah. It’s...nice to meet you, Jihyun,” I assent, shaking his hand. “You really don’t have to do this, though I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I want to do it,” he replied, eyes locked onto mine. My heart flutters in my chest. There was no amount of protest that could change his mind after that.

“Won’t you ever tell me what happened?” Jihyun asks softly. His arms are wrapped around mine as we embrace.

“I don’t know,” I admit, face buried in his chest. He smells sweet, clean.

“You don’t have to. But I want to understand you. To understand your pain. I want to help you.”

“No,” I say grimly. “You don’t.”

You’ll see.

“I do,” he insists, gently caressing my back.

In the end.

“You don’t want to know. I wish I didn’t know.” I’m stiff now, trying to hold down the thoughts rising in my head.

He kisses me gently on the forehead and I feel myself melt into his arms. The voices fade away. It was hard to deny him like this.

“I would take all that pain onto myself if I could,” he murmurs, lips brushing my hair. I pull back and look up at him, pain twisting my face. My small hands reach up to caress his soft cheeks.

“I’m afraid it will ruin you,” I whisper, eyes tearing up. I stroke my thumb across his cheekbone, examining the sharp features I’ve come to love so deeply. “You are so, so good. You believe still in the good in this world. You don’t know how bad it can get. I don’t ever want you to.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling hot tears trail down my cheeks. “I’m going to ruin you. I know it. I’m so terrified.”

I feel his warm hands reach up to cup my face. Slowly, I open my eyes and meet his gaze, his face inches from mine. “You complete me,” he murmurs. “You will not ruin me. Without you, I will never be the same.”

He will regret it.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper, sniffling. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, love,” he sighs, pressing his forehead against mine. “Don’t be sorry. Be glad. You make me happy.”

“Do I?” I gasp, feeling my body shudder with sadness. That fucking overwhelming pit of sadness. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he whispers sweetly. He leans in and kisses me. His lips are soft and gentle, and I feel fire course through my veins. It feels like it burns away that bitter sadness, even if for a moment.

He is the sun in the sky, the warm sunlight on my dark, shady days.

“Don’t leave me,” I beg, hugging him. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“I promise I will never,” he responds, closing his eyes as we embrace again.

“...I’ll tell you one day,” I decide out loud, breathing in his scent. “But for now...let’s go to bed. I’m tired.”

“Of course,” he agrees, smiling sweetly.

Wrapped up in sheets, his arms around me protectively as we spoon in bed, I stare out of the window into the city street below.

It will consume both me and him.

“Shut up,” I whisper to myself, stuffing my face into my pillow.

How long could I keep this up?

I couldn’t let anything hurt him. I had to protect him.

From myself.

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#rika #fanfic #the wages of sin #mine #mysme #mystic messenger #mysme fanfic #v #jihyun kim

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