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doctorstethoscope · 3 years ago

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The Right Chapter 24 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Happy Saturday my loves! A little fluff/angst double whammy for your afternoon :)

contains: grouchy aaron, food mention, description of anxiety, canon-typical description of murder

wordcount: 2.4k

“I seem to remember you being the one lecturing me about the bureau’s generous sick leave policy not all that long ago,” You told Aaron as you gently shoved him back into bed three days after he’d broken his leg.

“I also recall that in that situation, you were the one who was injured,” Aaron grumbles, and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, and you stayed home to take care of me. Now, I’m returning the favor,” you reminded him.

“I’m not going to get a brain bleed, I just need the leg to heal. You don’t need to stay with me all day while I sit in bed.” He argues.

“You’re right, but I think we both know that if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t stay in bed, and seeing as how you can’t get as far as the bathroom without my help, that might present a problem.” You chastise him. “I’m not coming home to you bleeding out in the hallway because you fell over and couldn’t help yourself.”

“You make me sound like I’m eighty years old.” he scoffed.

“Well, if you agree to wear a life alert, maybe I’ll go back to work.” You said, throwing your head against the pillows. There’s a few moments of silence, punctuated by Aaron’s deep sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I’m being grumpy.” He apologized. “I just don’t want you to have to take care of me.”

“You’re injured and in pain. You’re allowed to be grumpy,” you told him. “And I plan on taking care of you for the rest of my life, so you should start to get used to it.”

“Can I hold you for a little while? You don’t have to go near my leg,” he says, knowing you’ve been extra-gentle to avoid his injury since you’ve been home together. “You could put your head on my chest and I could just… hold you,” Aaron asks shyly, and your heart melts.

“Of course, baby.” you say, snuggling your torso in close, leaning your head against his pec and resisting the urge to toss your legs over his. “See? Sick leave isn’t all that bad,” you tease him.

“No, I suppose not,” he smiles, rubbing an arm up and down your back.

“Jack is so excited to have you home.” You comment.

“Not that it matters, I can’t even take him to the park or ride a bike with him.” Aaron grouses.

“Aaron, he’s over the moon just to have time to spend with you. He could sit here in bed with you watching Toy Story on a loop for the next six weeks and I’m sure he’d tell you it was the best month and a half of his life.”

“A month and a half… I’m gonna go crazy.” Aarom remarks, more to himself than to you.

“You’re gonna have to take up a hobby. Maybe knitting,” you snort, and Aaron smiles.

“Yeah, or braiding or something,” he agrees offhandedly.

“Braiding?” You ask.

“Oh, I mean, or maybe I could get back into Chess, finally get good enough to beat Spencer--”

“No, no, back up, what made you bring up braiding?”

“Uh… it’s just… something I’ve been thinking about in case we ever, you know, made a decision, and felt like maybe---”

“Aaron, spit it out,” you laughed.

“Just… if we had kids, or a daughter, I would want to be able to do her hair. Because if you’re not home, I don’t want to be the dad that doesn’t know how to do his daughter’s hair.” He confesses, the embarrassment clear in his tone. You place a kiss to his chest.

“You are a good man, Aaron Hotchner.”

“I’m glad you think so, anyways.”

“Alright, you’re getting grumpy and self-deprecating, which is a bad combo. You need a nap.” You instruct him teasingly.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, tightening his hold on you just slightly.

“Of course, love. You go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

You went back to work a little over a week later, when Aaron was mostly off of his pain meds, and able to get himself around the apartment without any assistance. You were still staying there when you weren’t on a case, and found yourself grateful that you’d decided to sign a month-to-month lease-- you weren’t sure what the point was of keeping up the pretense of separate places anymore. But, then again, with Aaron injured, now probably wasn’t the best time for a move. You're working through a few scenarios in your head when Spencer interrupts your train of thought.

“How’s Hotch feeling?” He asks as you and the rest of the team board the jet to head home after a case.

“He’s doing better,” you tell him. “The pain isn’t bothering him as much and he’s getting a little bit of his range of motion back. I’m still trying my best to keep him in bed, but I’m sure you can imagine how well that’s going,” you tell him with a smile.

“Well, tell him I can’t wait to have him back. I hate all this paperwork,” Morgan cuts in with a playful chuckle, and you shove at his shoulder.

“I’m trying to keep him home, Derek. Besides, we all know that Spencer is doing most of the paperwork for you,” you called him out, and Emily and JJ laughed.

“He’s just so fast,” Morgan defends himself, and now everyone is laughing.

“We do want him back,” Emily tells you. “But not until he’s good and ready. And then, you know, maybe even a few weeks after that. Wouldn’t kill him to take a vacation.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” JJ smirks.

“Please, he’s already itching to get back to work. I think he’d leave me if I asked for a vacation.” You tell Emily.

“No, if you asked for a vacation he’d buy a plane ticket in an instant. And he’d bring his work phone and his computer to the beach and try to solve a murder from underneath a palm tree,” Morgan argued playfully.

“Sometimes when we take a case somewhere warm, I stand in the parking lot for five minutes and face the sun. And if you close your eyes, it’s almost like a vacation.” You say.

“Weren’t you literally taken hostage the last time you did that?” Spencer asks, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly.

“Well, there goes my tropical getaway,” you tease.

With Morgan as acting unit chief, paperwork deadlines are considerably more flexible, which is to say nonexistent. Strauss would probably have a field day when she went to review the case file, but that wasn’t your problem. And, quite frankly, as you rushed to your car to get home to your boys, you couldn’t care less.

When you swing the door open, you interrupt a very spirited game of Connect Four between Jack and Aaron. You notice that Aaron has at least three opportunities to make a winning move, all of which he ignores in favor of allowing Jack to push his chips in at random.

“You’re home!” Jack exclaims when he sees you, scrambling across the living room and wordlessly commanding to be held by you.

You hoist him up onto your hip, not without difficulty. He was getting big, and it made you a little sad. It strikes you that you won’t be able to do this forever, wrap him up in your arms and make him feel small and safe and secure. You squeeze him tighter. “Were you good for your daddy while I was gone?”

“Uh-huh.” He nods, pulling back to look at you and running the collar of your shirt in between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly.

“And was Daddy good? He stayed off of his booboo leg?” You asked the only Hotchner who would give you a truthful answer.

“Daddy was good.” Jack confirms, and you narrow your eyes skeptically.

“Did he bribe you to say that? Ice cream for breakfast, or a new comic book?” You ask.

“No. We watched Toy Story and I learned checkers. I had cereal for breakfast, not ice cream.” He tells you, and you relent.

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun, bug.” You say, putting him down and crossing the living room to sit next to Aaron on the couch, who leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head and placed a hand in your lap.

“I did. But I missed you.” Jack tells you, climbing onto the couch next to you.

“He’s not the only one,” Aaron whispers, pressing another kiss to your hair.

“I missed you both, very very much,” you tell them, snuggling closer into Aaron and placing a hand in Jack’s hair.

“We had pasta for dinner. I saved you a plate,” Aaron tells you.

“Thank you, baby.” You tell him. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s past somebody’s bedtime…” You mention, and Jack pouts immediately.

“I told him he could stay up until you got home, but he promised he wasn’t going to fight when it was time for bed, right buddy?” Aaron reminds his son.

“Come on, sweet boy. I’ll tuck you in,” You tell him, pecking Aaron’s lips briefly before scooping Jack up off of the sofa and bringing him to his bed, tucking him in with extra stories and kisses to make up for the nights you missed while you were gone.

When you come back into the kitchen, Aaron has heated up the leftover pasta and is waiting for you at the counter.

“You didn’t have to get up, I would have done that,” you tell Aaron, knowing full well that he’d never actually listen.

“How was the case?” He asks as you settle in and start to eat.

“It wasn’t too bad. We got the guy to surrender without hurting any of the hostages. A few of them were in pretty rough shape, but they should all recover.” you tell him in between bites.

“And the team? Everyone’s doing okay?”

“We’re all good, babe. JJ’s getting really good at the geographic profile, but I think it annoys her to stay at the station when we’re all out.”

“She’s pregnant. It’s not worth the risk,” Aaron reminds you.

“I know, honey, but it’s still annoying. It’s kind of like when you break your leg and you’re not allowed to go to work but you still have to hear all about it from your girlfriend,” you point out, and he smirks at you.

“Morgan’s doing okay? The field agents aren’t giving him any trouble?”

“Morgan can handle himself just fine against any cocky field agent. You don’t need to worry about us, sweetheart. We’re okay. You trained us up good,” you smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at you. “We want you back, but we want you back healthy,” you tell him.

“Well, the doctor cleared me to start PT in two weeks. So hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later,” Aaron tells you.

“That's great news! So the cast is coming off soon?” You ask.

“Yeah, he wants to see me again to take it off and give me the final go-ahead for PT.”

“And you’re gonna take it easy at PT, because you know you can’t rush recovery, right?” You remind him.

“Yes, mom,” he teases you with a smile.

“It’s my turn to fret over you. Karma’s a bitch,” you smile at him as you get up to take his plate to the dishwasher. As you do so, his phone rings.

“Hotchner,” he says into the receiver. “Woah, woah. Slow down, please. Are you okay?” Aaron says, and you turn around immediately, concerned. “Garcia, hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Yeah, she’s home. She’s here with me.” Aaron says, his eyes flicking over to you as he pulls the phone away from his ear and adjusts the volume.

“Okay, so, I have been keeping an eye on Josh’s arrest record, awaiting his arraignment and his court dates so that we could throw a big ‘Josh is in prison for life party,’” she tells you, spitting out information a mile a minute. “There hadn’t been any movement for a few days, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I decided to check one more time before I went to bed tonight, and Josh’s dealer posted bail for him four days ago.”

“What?” You say. You heard her, heard every word she said in perfect clarity. But there had to be a mistake, right?

“Garcia, what do you have on the dealer? What has Josh been doing for the past four days?” Aaron asks, and you hear him, but you also… don’t. Everything sounds like you have cotton stuck inside your ears, or like you’re underwater. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

“That’s a trigger,” you mumble quietly, and you think that Aaron doesn’t hear you, he’s so focused on his conversation with Garcia that you try hopelessly to follow. He turns to you, after a moment, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“What did you say, doll?” He asks you.

“That’s a trigger. You know, how we say that serial killers have triggers that make them start killing people. This is probably a trigger to start killing,” you say, staring at a spot of dirt on the tile. Jack must have tracked it on his cleats, and Aaron couldn��t mop with his injury. You should really clean that. You needed to get the dirt off the floor. Mop, mop, where did Aaron keep the mop? You pulled it out of the closet and were headed for the stain when you felt Aaron’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, blocking your path.

“Hon, what are you doing?’ He asks, trying to make eye contact with you, which you avoided.

“The floor needs to be mopped.” You answer, emotionless.

“Why don’t you come sit down, the floor can wait,” he says, trying to guide you towards the sofa.

“Aaron, your knee! Go sit. Go, go. I just need to get the floor clean. Please just go sit and I can fix it. It’s okay. I got it.” You got more and more worked up as you continued to stare at the dirt, watching the stain grow as your vision blurred, as if the dirt were mocking you.

“Hey, hey hey. Where’d you go, angel? Come back here with me, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He says, wrapping his arms around you.

You’d never wished more that you believed him.

tagging: @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee @zheezs14 @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner @ijustwannaread2k19 @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader fic #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x y/n #hotch fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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beifongsss · 4 years ago

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fake it till you make it [zuko]

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested?: Yes! By a very amazing anon!: “u should totally write a zuko fic wherein he persuades the reader to fake date him so he could make mai jealous but in the end falls in love w the reader ^-^ i love ur writing btw!!”

Summary: Takes place during season 3, “The Beach”. As the request said, fake dating to make Mai jealous but it backfires. For Zuko that is.

w.c. ~4.3k

.masterlist.

You had no clue how you had ended up in your current situation.

Actually, scratch that. Looking back, you knew exactly how you ended up in your current situation. It was all Zuko’s fault but then again, things usually were.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your breath had caught in your throat at Zuko’s question, and you had to hold back your gasp. “W-What?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Zuko had repeated, looking at you hopefully. You had looked at him in surprise, your jaw dropping. After years of crushing on the prince, here he was, asking you to be his. You couldn't believe that he returned your feelings.

“I-I, what?” you had finally stuttered, still gaping at him in disbelief. His gaze focused on someone behind you and a blush bloomed on his cheeks.

“Please (Y/N). You’re my best friend. I-I want to make Mai jealous and you’re the only one I trust to do this with,” he’d admitted quietly, his eyes never leaving the dark-haired girl.

You followed his line of sight, your heart aching when you realized that he didn’t like you; at least not the way you liked him. With a big sigh, you had pushed down your tears, forcing a smile onto your face.

“It’d be my pleasure to court you, Prince Zuko.”

That conversation had taken place a few days ago, but your heartache never lessened.

It was funny, really. After joining Azula on her quest to track down Zuko, Iroh, and the Avatar, you had planned to confess your feelings for the prince. In your head, it all worked out. It was the stereotypical story of two childhood best friends who grew up, fell in love, and got married.

But it was never that simple. And now here you were, playing girlfriend to Zuko as you watched him pine for Mai. You were, quite literally, acting out your dream.

What made it worse for you was that Zuko was the perfect boyfriend. He was a good listener and always made sure you were comfortable no matter where you were. He would plan little dates and picnics when he knew Mai would be at the palace and treat you as if you were royalty. You knew your crush had turned into something stronger when even the slightest of touches made your heart race. It was time to stop the act before you got hurt.

Unfortunately the news about you and Prince Zuko spread like wildfire through the palace and soon enough, the entirety of the staff and residents knew. It was too late for you to come out and say it was all a lie because both Ozai and your parents were very pleased with the new relationship. To your parents, your relationship meant that you were set for life. They had always been Ozai’s biggest supporters and your relationship with Zuko only cemented their loyalty to the royal family. For Ozai, he was simply glad that Zuko would be distracted; which was why he suggested that all the teens take a vacation to Ember Island while he met with your parents and the rest of his trusted advisors.

You had been walking through the royal gardens with Mai and Ty Lee when Zuko had jogged up to you. He had greeted you with a short hug before nodding to Mai and Ty Lee.

“You three should get to packing,” Zuko said, causing the three of you to exchange confused glances.

“Why?” Ty Lee chirped, looking at Zuko curiously.

“My father has just told me that we’re going on a vacation to Ember Island,” Zuko replied. “We leave immediately so I suggest you all start packing as soon as possible.”

Ty Lee clapped excitedly, already excited to go to the beach. Mai simply nodded in acknowledgment before smiling lightly at Ty Lee’s excitement.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things to sort out before we leave,” Zuko said, walking away before doubling back and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ll meet you on the ship.”

You nodded wordlessly, a bright blush spreading across your cheeks at his action. You faced your friends, being met with a large grin from Ty Lee and a small smirk from Mai as they observed you. Nodding at the palace’s doors, you began to walk away from them.

“I’m so glad you two are finally together!” Ty Lee exclaimed as she bounced up to your side. Mai trailed after her quietly. “It’s about time you guys finally confessed.”

You chuckled lightly at her words, glancing at Mai to gauge her reaction. “I guess it was perfect timing.”

“I’ll say,” Mai spoke up, her smirk growing into a tiny smile. “I was getting real tired of watching the two of you pine after each other.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you all split up to go pack. You finished quickly enough, choosing a few casual outfits and a bathing suit to last you for the few days you’d be on the island. On your way to the ferry you bumped into Zuko, who fell into step with you as you boarded the ship.

“So?” he questioned, looking around to make sure you were alone. “Anything? Is she jealous?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I was trying to get a read on her but all she said was that it was about time we got together, whatever that means.”

Zuko groaned softly before leaning against the ship’s railing. “I thought the kiss would surely tick her off. I guess we’ll just have to keep on trying.”

“Zuko,” you said hesitantly, looking away from him. “I-I don’t think we should keep doing this. I mean, it hasn’t worked so far. What makes you think that it’s gonna be any different on Ember Island?”

He looked at you quietly before coming up to you and taking both of your hands in his. “Let’s keep doing this until after the vacation. If nothing changes, then we’ll stop. I promise.”

You bit your lip softly as you thought over his words. Zuko stared at you intently, trying to ignore the way you bit your lip. After a few minutes of contemplation, you nodded slowly. You would only be at Ember Island for a few days, things couldn’t possibly get any more heartbreaking for you. “Ok. I’ll do it for you, Zuko.”

“Perfect timing,” Zuko said, a rare smile on his face. You glanced behind you to see Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee approaching before looking back up at Zuko. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Zuko slung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in close as the three girls boarded the ship. The ride to Ember Island was spent with the two of you sitting together on a bench as the three girls whispered amongst themselves, occasionally throwing glances your way.

“So,” Azula finally addressed you, a knowing smirk on her face. “I can’t believe you two are finally together. I always thought Zuzu had a thing for Mai.”

You felt Zuko stiffen up next to you at Azula’s words. You kept a straight face, looking at the younger girl as you panicked internally. Zuko’s arm tightened around you, pulling you in as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“What are you talking about Azula?” he asked roughly, his eyes never leaving her. “I’ve always had a thing for (Y/N/N).”

“So you guys won’t mind me asking what it is that you like about each other,” Azula said, a very fake smile on her face. “Right? (Y/N/N), you first.”

You exchanged a mildly panicked look with Zuko before answering Azula. It wasn’t like thinking of an answer was hard; the problem was that you were going to be telling Zuko the truth about how you felt about him, even if he thought you were just playing along. You were baring your feelings not only to him, but to his sister and your friends.

“Well,” you began, taking a deep breath and glancing at Azula before refocusing your gaze on Zuko. “He’s attractive-”

“Even with that scar?” Azula asked, a wicked smile on her face as she noticed Zuko’s uncomfortable expression.

“Yes,” you stated firmly and without hesitation. Zuko looked at you in surprise. “He’s attractive even with the scar. But he’s not just physically attractive. He’s kind and sweet and just a little bit of a hothead but it’s kind of endearing. He’s always there for me no matter what and he’s always put my needs above his own, even though my needs are nowhere near as important as his. He’s my best friend and honestly, I like everything about him.”

The ship was silent as Zuko stared at you in awe. There was an unreadable look on Azula’s face before she turned to face Zuko. “Your turn Zuzu. What makes (Y/N) so attractive to you?”

“W-Well she’s pretty, and she has nice...hair?” Zuko said, stuttering for a moment before shaking his head and looking at you. He stared at you for a few seconds before speaking again. “What I mean is, I like (Y/N) because she’s been with me through everything. She made me feel like I was special, even when we were little kids. She always knew just what to say to make me feel better and she was the only one who was ever willing to put up with me no matter what. She’s the only person I truly trust, and that’s why I’ve chosen to trust her with my heart.”

You looked away from his stare when he finished speaking, knowing that what he had said was probably how he felt about Mai. In Zuko’s head, he began to question his feelings for Mai. Sure, what he had said applied to Mai but as he spoke, he began to realize that you were the one he was truly speaking about. He kept his eyes on you as his inner turmoil raged on, only getting worse when you glanced up at him and sent him a soft smile.

“Well, I have to say, I was a little skeptical about whether or not your little relationship was real or not,” Azula said, clapping her hands twice before turning away from you. “But now I can see that you truly like each other. You have my blessing.”

Zuko scowled at her before speaking. “I wasn’t aware that we needed it.”

Azula waved him off before walking to the railing and looking out at the water. The rest of the trip was spent in silence as everyone did their own thing and you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

“It smells like old lady in here,” Zuko complained as you walked into the beach house.

“Gee, I wonder why,” you replied sarcastically, yawning as Zuko sent you a half-hearted glare. You nudged his shoulder with yours, giving him a teasing smile. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Who are those beautiful women?” Ty Lee gasped, looking at the hanging painting.

“Can’t you tell?” Lo asked. “It’s Li and me.”

“It’s Lo and me!”

You all grimaced as Lo and Li copied the pose from the painting, Zuko digging his face into your neck to avoid looking at the scene in front of him.

“Zuko, stop,” you whispered, giggling as his hair tickled your neck. He glanced up at you, smiling at your reaction before he continued to do it. You swatted at his arms, desperately trying to get out of his hold. He simply tightened his grip, grabbing your hands to stop you from hitting him.

He glanced up to see everyone staring at the two of you, loosening his grip when he met Mai’s gaze. He was surprised to see that she didn’t seem annoyed or upset. If anything, she seemed almost happy, watching the two of you with the faintest of smiles. He loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to slip away from him. You bent down to grab your bag, only for Zuko to step in and take it from you.

“So, there are only four bedrooms,” Azula said, looking around. “(Y/N), Zuzu, you wouldn’t mind sharing one, would you?”

“Not at all, Azula,” Zuko replied instantly. Your eyes widened before looking at Azula and nodding meekly.

“Great. Let’s go to the beach, I want to have some fun,” Azula said, stalking off.

You soon found yourself down at the beach, helping Ty Lee as she tried to find the perfect spot to settle down in. Azula was off terrorizing little kids and Zuko was trailing behind you as he walked with Mai. You ignored the pang in your chest as you glanced behind you, instead focusing on the two boys that were now standing in front of you and Ty Lee.

“Hey, need some help?” one of them asked, taking Ty Lee’s bag.

“Sure! Thanks,” she said, smiling at them. The other boy took your bag as well, setting your towel down besides Ty Lee’s. The two of you sat down next to each other, squinting in the sun.

“Could you scooch just a little bit to the-” Ty Lee trailed off as the boys moved to block the sun. She sent them a smile and a wink. “Thanks.”

A few yards away, Zuko was sitting next to Mai under an umbrella. He noticed a shell next to him and picked it up, looking at it while he turned it over.

“(Y/N) would like that,” Mai said dully, glancing at the shell.

“What about you?” Zuko asked, meeting her eyes. Mai snorted.

“No way. A dumb shell? I’m not that type of girl,” she replied. Zuko looked at her for a few seconds before tossing it aside. It landed farther than he meant it to, one of the boys that was with you picking it up and examining it before turning to face you.

“Here, this is for you,” the boy said quietly, handing you the shell. You looked at it before placing it down next to you.

“Wow, thanks. It’s beautiful,” you said bashfully, sending the boy a polite smile.

“Just like you,” the boy replied instantly, bringing a faint blush to your cheeks.

Mai watched the scene in amusement, noticing the way Zuko tensed up slightly. “Told you she’d like it.”

“Hey beach bums!” Azula called out, standing by the kuai ball net. “We’re playing next.”

You all made your way over to Azula, both you and Ty Lee giving the boys apologetic looks. The game was pretty intense, all because of Azula. At the end, your team was victorious and you were left standing around as Azula gloated to the other team about her victory.

“Hey, I’m having a party tonight,” a boy said, approaching you and Ty Lee with his friend. “You should come by.”

“Sure! I love parties,” Ty Lee chirped. The boy looked at you expectantly.

“Sure, I’ll go,” you said, nodding softly.

“Your friend can come too,” the boy added, glancing at Mai.

“What about me and my brother? Aren't you going to invite us?” Azula asked, staring at the two boys. You don't know who we are, do you?”

“Don't you know who we are?” the boy shot back. “We're Chan and Ruon-Jian. But, fine, you're invited. Just so you know, though, some of the most important teenagers in the Fire Nation are gonna be at this party, so try and act normal.”

“We’ll do our best,” Azula replied, smiling sinisterly.

You had arrived at the party way too early. Watching Azula trying to flirt was painful and so you found yourself tucked away in a corner with Zuko, the two of you quietly munching on some food.

“So, does Mai seem jealous?” you asked quietly, leaning against the wall as more guests began to arrive

“Kind of? Maybe? I don’t know, it’s hard to tell,” Zuko muttered, his gaze on Mai as she looked around the food table for something to eat. “She was kind of emotionless when we were talking about you but she usually is so I’m not sure.”

You nodded amusedly, glancing around before your eyes landed on Ty Lee being cornered by a group of boys. “Oh no. Sorry Zuko, I’ll be back.”

You darted away, pulling Ty Lee away from the group before she could chi-block them. She gave you a thankful smile before bouncing away making her way to Azula. You turned around to go back to Zuko to find your path being blocked by Chan.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, leaning against the wall as he smiled down at you.

“O-Oh, yeah,” you replied softly, looking around for any of your friends.

“Yeah, I’m known for throwing the best parties,” Chan boasted, leaning down towards you. “How bout I show you around? Give you a tour of the house?”

“No, that’s fine,” you said meekly, meeting Mai’s eyes. She gave you a nod, understanding that you wanted her to come and save you from Chan. Unfortunately, before she could approach you, Ruon-Jian stopped her and began to talk to her.

“C’mon,” Chan said, placing his hand on your lower back as he guided you away.

“Stop talking to my girlfriend!”

The room went silent at Zuko’s outburst and you sighed in relief, before turning around and seeing Zuko standing in front of Ruon-Jian. You swallowed harshly as Mai met your eyes, surprise evident on her face as she looked from you to Zuko. Sensing the tension in the air, Zuko glanced towards you, a panicked expression on his face.

“I told you they weren’t really dating,” Azula scoffed, looking from you to Mai. “Poor (Y/N) likes Zuko but Zuzu here only has eyes for Mai. Fake dating was the furthest she was ever going to get with him.”

Feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, you ducked under Chan’s arm and sprinted out the door. The room burst into chatter as people began to gossip about what had just happened.

“Mai, I-” Zuko began to speak, stopping when Mai held up her hand.

“Zuko, I’m not stupid,” she said blankly. “We all knew you were fake dating, we just wanted to see how far you’d go until one of you would fess up.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Zuko asked, following Mai as she walked outside.

“Because after the ferry ride, we realized something,” Mai said, turning around and facing Zuko as she came to a stop. “You’re in love with each other.”

“No we’re not,” Zuko argued. “This whole thing started because I wanted to make you jealous.”

“I know,” Mai said, causing Zuko to look at her in surprise. “You’re not exactly subtle. We could tell that your focus wasn’t on her but I’m telling you that after the ferry ride, something changed. Whether you want to admit it or not, you love (Y/N). You said it yourself, she’s the one that’s always been there for you. She’s the one you trust. What you said was true, Zuko. You just don’t want to admit you’re in love with her because you’re afraid of losing her. But trust me, she feels the same way. You have nothing to worry about. Besides, you can’t tell me you don’t feel anything for her, not after seeing the way you were holding her at the beach house.”

Zuko stood in silence for a few minutes, thinking about Mai’s words. She was right, and he knew it. He had loved you since you were children and he had never told you, too afraid of the rejection that would inevitably follow. Mai was simply a replacement for you, as harsh as that was. He had wanted Mai because she was easy and convenient to be with. But you had always held his heart because as he had said earlier, you were the only one who was trustworthy enough to have it.

“She’s down by the beach,” Mai said, breaking Zuko out of his thoughts. He looked at her questioningly. “She finds it peaceful down there, it’s where she’d go to be alone.”

Zuko nodded, sprinting down the house’s steps before pausing. “Thanks Mai.”

Mai smiled as she watched him sprint away. After many long, long years you were finally going to be together. And if Zuko messed this up, she would personally make sure that he’d regret it.

Tears streamed down your face no matter how hard you tried to keep them at bay. You knew that it was a bad idea to go along with Zuko’s dumb plan but you had always had a hard time saying no to the prince. And look where that had gotten you, heartbroken and crying on an empty beach.

You picked up random rocks and shells, throwing them into the water as you tried to quiet your sobs. A part of you had always hoped that Zuko would wake up and magically fall in love with you but deep down you knew that you would never be the one for him. When you were younger, maybe. But not anymore. Sighing deeply, you sat on the sand, bringing your knees to your chest and crying quietly as the water lapped at your toes.

You closed your eyes when you felt someone sit next to you, knowing it was probably Ty Lee trying to make you feel better. “Go away Ty Lee. I just want to be alone.”

Ty Lee didn’t answer, instead wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into her embrace, eyes widening when your head landed on a muscular chest. You looked up to meet bright golden eyes and you threw yourself backwards, escaping Zuko’s embrace.

“What are you doing here?” you asked quietly, putting more space between the two of you. “You should be inside with Mai.”

“Is what Azula said true?” he asked, his voice equally quiet. “You like me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, looking anywhere but him. You could feel his eyes burning into you, causing you to swallow harshly. “Zuko, please. Just go away. Just forget that tonight ever happened. Once we get back to the palace, we can just ignore each other. Just leave me alone.”

“I like you too,” Zuko said, pausing for a few seconds. “Wait no. I don’t like you, I love you.”

You shot him a look, his figure looking slightly blurry due to your tears. “Please don’t make this worse than it already is.”

“I’m serious,” Zuko said, scooting closer to you and brushing away your tears. “Remember the time we were feeding the turtle ducks in the royal gardens and my mom left us to go get more food for them? You pushed me into the pond once she was gone, as payback for the time that I accidentally made you fall out of the palanquin. I was so angry but when I looked up at you, you were laughing and I couldn’t do anything but stare. That’s when I knew I loved you.”

“We were nine,” you snorted, remembering the incident. “We didn’t know what love was. We still don’t.”

“Maybe not,” Zuko replied. “But I know that I felt something for you. After that, every time I saw you I couldn’t breathe right and I couldn’t stop blushing. Trust me, I fell in love with you a long time ago, even if i didn’t know what love was.”

“Then why were you trying to make Mai jealous?” you asked quietly, wanting to believe his words.

“Because I’m stupid,” Zuko said, chuckling softly. “Because I didn’t think that we could be more than friends. I didn’t think you’d ever like me back so I went after Mai because she was a safe choice. But it’s always been you, (Y/N). And it will always be you.”

You looked at Zuko, seeing nothing but honesty in his eyes. You scooted closer, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the water. “I knew I loved you when I first met you. I had been so scared when my parents had left me with one of the maids. They had a meeting to get to and the maid was leading me to the kitchen to keep me busy. You came out of nowhere, running from Azula as she chased you and you knocked me over. When you held out your hand to help me up, I knew I had a crush on you. You led me to the gardens and you made sure that I was okay and you even stole a cookie from the kitchen for me to apologize for knocking me down. I was a goner.”

Zuko smiled fondly as he remembered the incident. He had been so worried that he had hurt you. Looking down, he saw you smiling contently, still looking out at the ocean. Softly, he grasped your chin, turning your face towards him. You sent him a questioning look, sighing softly when he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You tilted your head up, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. Your hands trailed up his chest, circling around his neck and pulling slightly on his hair. He pulled you onto his lap completely and you shifted, straddling his lap. You felt his tongue swipe at your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. You pulled apart after a few more seconds, both of you breathing heavily as you looked at each other with a large smile on your faces.

“I told you I’d make it up to you,” Zuko whispered. The two of you laughed lightly before he spoke again. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your breath caught in your throat again as you recalled Zuko asking the same question a few days earlier. You leaned down, pressing another kiss to his lips before you answered.

“It’d be my pleasure to court you, Prince Zuko. This time for real.”

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harrypotter-imaginess · 4 years ago

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: maybe two more parts after this

Commission info for a Love Letter from your favorite HP character here - close 3/10/21!

You sigh as you lean your head back on the arm rest of Draco’s couch

You can see him extending a glass of wine towards you, and you take it gingerly into your hand

“I think I want to quit my job”

He doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow and takes a seat in the arm chair next to the sofa you’re sprawled over like you’re at the therapists office

“Planning to coast along on your good looks?” He finally says, trying to keep his face as stern as possible.

Despite himself a smile arch’s onto the corner of his mouth

“I’m being serious!” You say, sitting up.

Draco openly laughs now, and he doesn’t stop until you throw a pillow at him.

“Well what do you expect when you say somethin’ like that out of nowhere.” He manages to say between bursts of laughter

You both have been dating for a while now, almost a year- you even brought him to a company holiday party

Life has been good

Having to hide his wizardry from you isn’t all that hard, he just had to completely reprogram the way he operates as a human being and now he’s fine

...

It’s been a little challenging

You sigh, a hand threading through your hair, eyebrows threaded together

Well now he’s a little worried, he figured you were just joking around but-

“Did something happen at work?”

Did someone say something to you- or maybe someone did something to you

Draco’s already running a list of curses in his mind by the time you sigh and shake your head

“Nothing that hasn’t been happening- not really.”

The cruciatus curse seems a little to far, maybe boils? No that’s too obvious

“It’s a nice place to work, I have it really good, it’s just-“ your eyes flicker from your glass of wine to Draco

“I always figured once I had a steady income life would be exciting yknow? And I would travel and be making memories but-“

You should be grateful, you have a good life. A comfortable job, a cozy house and-

Your eyes flicker to him, taking his impeccably handsome face, that ash blonde hair, and vibrant grey eyes

And you’ve got Draco

But even though you have all these things, you can’t help but feel like life is just passing you by, and before you know it you’ll be 80 on your death bed having done nothing at all

Draco’s quiet for a moment, picking up on the unspoken sentiment

Maybe you shouldn’t have unpacked on him like that- he’s got his own problems too after all

“Let’s go on Holiday”

Huh?

Draco picks up on your confusion and elaborates on his reasoning

“You’re just a little burned out, you need a break.”

It happened to his Dad all the time when he was a kid, he’d get caught up in all of his dark magic council meetings and his board positions and wonder if this is just life was- an endless power struggle

And that’s when his Mum would swoop in with an elegant family trip to some exotic location, and they would all come back like new people.

Right now you need someone to show you the joy in life. That it’s not just going to work for fifty years and dying

There’s a long stretch of silence between the two of you

And Draco starts to wonder if maybe his Mum had it all wrong

Maybe he should have just offered to make you his spouse, he makes enough money for the both of you- you don’t have to work if you don’t want to when you’re his

He’s internally rehearsing his proposal speech, picking out which moments he should highlight

Which is pretty hard because every moment with you feels like a highlight

“Where would we go?”

Your voice is soft, almost hesitant, but Draco doesn’t overlook the twinkle in your eye

He grins

“Anywhere you want”

You find out pretty fast that Draco is a meticulous planner- everything is carefully decided

“Alright we’ll get off the flight, and we’ll get one of those mu- I mean we’ll get a car from there so we don’t have to worry about transportation-“

Literally everything is reserved, the hotel you’re staying in the city at for the first few nights, the car you’ll be using while you’re in France, the bed and breakfast Draco found out about in a small village in the French country side, even all the restaurants you’ll be eating at

Which is totally fine, some structure isn’t a bad thing

It’s just Draco’s never struck you as someone who plans everything out

“Is everything alright darling? Is this a personality trait of yours I’m just going to have to grow to love?”

You wrap your arms around his torso from the back, your chin resting on his shoulder to glance at the travel documents he’s reviewing

“Oh I never do this when I’m traveling alone- I don’t even take a travel bag most of the time, I can just buy whatever I need when I land- one time I didn’t even take my wallet because your phone is a wallet these days.”

You raise an eyebrow, what a little rich boy

You can’t think of all the times your family packed everything they could possibly need when going on vacation so they wouldn’t have to pay for anything when they got there

“So what’s the difference this time?” You ask, has hitting the quarter of life struck him with a lightening bolt that’s transformed him into a dad now?

“Because I’m going with you”

So everything has to be perfect. You’re taking a whole two weeks off of work, he’s got to make sure you don’t regret it, and give you the best time possible

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on proposing”

You’re only joking, but the disgusted look that crosses Draco’s features makes you flinch

You know it’s probably a little early to mention marriage, it’s only been a year after all, but you would be lying if you said that didn’t hurt

“I would never propose in France (Y/N), I have taste”

That whole country is just overhyped, and Paris is way too dirty - like most cities.

But it’s where you want to go- you like art museums and fresh baked bread so here he is

Going to god damn France

But he’ll be hexed before he proposes to you in that god forsaken country

“Oh so there’s going to be a proposal?”

“Of course there is” he says off handedly, verifying that both of your passports are up to date

And then he realizes what he just admitted and feels a ruby red blush creep onto his face from his neck

“W-wait-“

He turns around to face you, face bright red, only to see you smiling like you’ve just won the lottery

And he should be hopelessly embarrassed,

he’s been trying to play it cool for the last year, to play at your pace in terms of relationship development

Only to let it slip through his fingers in a single moment

But you look so happy to know he see’s a future with you

“Alright, sounds good. Just give me a heads up a few weeks before so I can get a spa appointment to look pretty for all our pictures”

You’re joking.... kind of

You don’t put it past Draco to have a photographer follow you both around and take pictures of the whole engagement thing

Draco’s actually taking your joke quite seriously though, a dopey grin on his mouth

“I’ll give you a hint the weekend before”

That should be enough time to get all your affairs in order

It’ll also give him enough time on how to break to you that he’s a wizard and well- his parents probably hate you

You’re smiling, an embarrassed expression crossing your features as you change the topic to which places you’ll be visiting

But there’s a shadow on Draco’s face

He sighs when you leave, saying you have to go back to your house to pack-

It’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He collapses on his arm chair, twirling his wand so that there’s a glass of fire whisky in his hand

He’s going to have to tell you soon- not just about his wizardry, but also about his family

His Mum’s already got half a guess there’s something going on here - but he bets the worst she believes is that he’s dating someone beneath him, maybe a muggle born at worst

Certainly not an actual muggle

His father’s clueless as always - too busy with his council positions and appearances

His mother will be fine , she would be upset of course, but she would come around eventually

His Father would disown him

He’s fairly confident about that

The second he says he’s in love with a muggle- it’s over for him

His dad might actually curse him when he finds out he’s marrying a muggle- bringing dirty blood into their bloodline

And Draco might curse him back

Because they can say whatever they want about him, but not about you-

Nothing about you is dirty

You’re the purest, kindest, loveliest person he’s ever seen

And he still can’t believe you’re his

You shouldn’t be surprised when you find out Draco booked you both first class seats

Or when you get to the airport and see a Mercedes convertible waiting for you

Or even when you get to the hotel - which turns out to be The Ritz

The tipping point is when you find out the “room” Draco booked is actually the penthouse

“Well that was exhausting, should we take a nap before going to the Louvre?”

You’re sitting on the sofa in the living area, your head in your hands

Draco doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy pouring Perrier into two crystal glasses.

“Draco, love, do you remember before we went on this trip, that I insisted paying my portion- even though you said there was no need?”

Draco looks up from the Perrier. But you’re still staring at the ground

“And then when I asked why my portion was so low- you said you got a really great economy deal from a travel package.”

That was the excuse he used wasn’t it

“Well there was a discount travel package, I just didn’t book it.”

Honestly he’s not sure what his end game was here- honestly he was just hoping you would believe this was all included in the package

Your palms are pressed together, your head resting against them

Draco extends a glass of Perrier towards you

You look at it for several long seconds,

he probably got it out of the mini fridge that charges 10x mark up

“I’m paying for our next trip” you say, accepting the glass with a sigh

Draco only grins

“So there’s going to be a next trip?”

You almost snort laughing

“Are you seriously asking me that after you basically proposed to me last week?”

Ah, you’ve got him there

You smile as you tug his towards you, pressing a kiss to his mouth

“Of course there will be you dork”

He smiles as he holds you close, kissing you again

Being in Paris is really cool

You go on a tour of the catacombs

“Watch your step” Draco says, offering his arm for support

“Thanks” you hold his hand as you make your way through the dark space

And the Louvre

“Am I supposed to be feeling something right now?” He asks

You’re both looking at the Mona Lisa, and you’ve got tears in your eyes, feeling very small

You’re almost humbled being in her presence, the painting that has withstood centuries

“Yes” you sniffle, taking the handkerchief Draco’s extended towards you

“You’re a rich kid, aren’t you supposed to be super invested in art and stuff?”

He gives you a mischievous grin

“I look at you everyday don’t I”

You manage a laugh, lightly smacking him in the arm

Things are going really well, you’re both having a really good time, and then something happens-

It’s your last day in the city before you head out to the french countryside,

you and Draco decided you would spend the morning souvenir shopping before heading there in the afternoon

You’ve put in an order for some macrons for your friends and the people at work

“Do you think they’ll still be good by the time we get back home?”

It will be at least a week until you head back, and longer until you see any of your friends

“I think as long as we freeze them” Draco assures

He’ll put a charm on them for good measure

“Malfoy?”

The second Draco hears that voice he goes rigid

You see, being with you for a year has been utter bliss.

Draco’s had a good year, the best year of his entire life-

The thing is though, he got so caught up in who he was becoming-

that he completely forgot who he used to be-

Until this moment

“Weasley. Granger”

Weasley looks the same as ever, flaming red hair and a splatter of freckles across his nose and spilling onto his face

Still that tall, lean, but muscular build he had when he last saw him.

Granger looks great though, she’s got her curls framing her face, smooth dark skin glistening against a clean cut pant suit

“Lovely to see you both”

Draco seems composed

But on the inside he’s on the verge of having a panic attack

Maybe they’ll just give a wave and be on their way

Yes that’s entirely pos-

Nope. They’re walking over to you two

F*ck

“Are you going to introduce us?” You ask with a teasing smile

Oh crap, he forgot the social protocols a situation like this calls for in his panic

“R-right, (Y/N) this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-“

“Actually we’re both Weasley now” Ron says with a proud grin

“- well she was Granger now she’s Weasley too, we um-“

Were sworn rivals. Mortal enemies. Fought on opposite sides of a great and tragic war.

“Went to school together”

He can honestly say that isn’t a lie.

They all did go to school together

A magic school in the mountains of Scotland, where they rode brooms and befriended magical creatures

Somehow he gets the feeling that’s not the type of experience you’re picturing though

To his surprise things are going pretty well, the conversation is mostly revolving around Paris, you and Granger seem to share a similar love for Mona Lisa

“And when you stand in front of her-“ Granger starts

“It’s like she’s judging you!” You finish

The two of you are only a moment away from embracing

Weasley looks like he couldn’t care less about Mona Lisa

And for once Draco thinks they’re in agreement

Maybe it’s because they’re from pureblood families

Because something surviving 500 years isn’t all that big of a deal to wizards

Not when the average wizard can live a few hundred years, his great grandfather even lived until the ripe old age of 652

“So are you two on Holiday?” You ask and Granger shakes her head

“No, we’re actually here for work on behalf of the Au-“

“On behalf of their museum I’m sure” Draco cuts in quickly

He was so comfortable in the fantasy where his previously sworn enemies might become causal aquantinces that he completely forgot there were three wizards and one muggle in this conversation

“”They um-“ Draco clears his throat giving a meaningful look to Granger and Weasley before lowering his voice “they actually work for a rival museum. Managed to get an exhibit from right under me”

The lies just seem to stack on one another.

Draco’s not sure what’s worse- that he’s getting better with coming up with these lies-

“Is that why they aren’t invited to your hangouts with Blaise, Theo and Pansy”

Or that you trust him so much you wholeheartedly believe each and every lie

“That is exactly why they’re not invited”

Some force in the universe must like him, because luckily enough that’s when your order number is called.

“Oh looks like it’s ready, I’ll see you in a bit darling” you press a kiss to his cheek before making your way towards the counter

And Draco’s so caught up in the subtle affection you’ve just shown him he’s completely forgotten all about the situation at hand until Granger clears her throat.

Ah yes, the mountain of lies he’s haphazardly built.

How could he forget

Granger looks like she’s got the gist of the situation,

Weasley on the other hand looks just as dumb as Draco remembers from school

His mouth agape

“Are they a muggle??”

Draco flinches at how loud Weasley says the word Muggle

“Yes, they are could you please keep your voice down”

He looks in your direction

Oh good it looks like you didn’t hear

He turns back to his old enemies

They both look like their mind is broken

“But your family they hate-“

“That’s my parents, that’s not me” Draco snaps quickly

But it was him, wasn’t it

All those times he tormented muggle borns at school, the dark magic artifacts he toyed with-

He looks at Granger

All the times he called her mud blood

He’s not as bad as his parents

-but he’s still not good

“Since I was there I got yours too-“

The second you’re back you can tell something is off

The tension hangs in the air like fog

Draco looks like he’s just seen a ghost, face pale and thin pink lips trembling

“What’s wrong?” You ask

Draco was a monster, that’s what’s wrong

“Nothing,” he puts on his most believable smile “we should get going or it will get dark before we get to the manse”

You nod, taking his hand in yours

It’s trembling

“It was lovely meeting you, maybe we’ll see each other again soon”

Granger who’s been awfully quiet for this whole ordeal smiles

“Yes, I hope we do”

The look Granger gives you is genuine and warm

- like she already considers you a friend

and it makes Draco feel twice as bad

It’s not like anything has really changed as you two drive through the countryside

You’re still joking like you always do,

Draco’s driving and he stops in several places on the way there so you can take polaroids in the French country scenery

But something feels...off

Like he’s just pretending to be happy

You really shouldn’t be surprised when you roll up to a large iron gate,

Draco types in the code into a keypad and they creak as they open revealing a rather impressive winding drive

At the end of which is an absolute unit of a mansion

“This isn’t a bed and breakfast is it?”

For one there’s not even a parking lot, Draco gives you a fleeting look before taking your bags out of the car.

“This is my family’s manse, we would come up here during the summer for vacation”

He was on the fence about bringing you here, but his Mum always had a rule that all dark magic artifacts would be kept away from their vacation home

His father could have free reign over the manse near London, but not here when they were on vacation

“You grew up here?” You say, taking in the fountain, the thirty windows you see in the front face alone, and the massive rose garden to the side

“Not really, we would just come here to vacation, it was really for my parents. I spent most of my time climbing up trees-“

And playing with the house elves, which his mother would later reprimand him for

It was always worse for them though

At least Father pays them a wage now, however meager it may be

“There’s no servants right now though, so it will be just us”

He says it as he leads you through the manse, passing the drawing room, a rather impressive parlor, up a long pair of winding steps into the east wing into a rather lavish room

“I hope you don’t mind staying in my old room, my parents used to use the master and that just seems... icky”

you laugh And he gives you another smile, and this time you know somethings wrong.

“We can go to the village nearby and grab dinner, or we can stay here but I doubt the pantry has-“

“Draco,” you stop him mid speech about getting dinner “What’s wrong?”

Draco does his best to smile for you

“Nothings wrong-“

“No, something is wrong” you cut him off quickly, taking his hand in both of yours

“You’ve been...sad”

that’s what it is, the emotion he’s been trying to cover up

He thought he was covering up his internal turmoil pretty well

Draco won’t lie, the fact that he’s more transparent then he thinks hurts

“Ever since we saw your old classmates at the bakery”

The way he flinches when you mention it tells you all you need to know

You feel a protective flare swell inside you

“Did something happen? Did they do something to you?“

you’re already thinking about how you need to protect you Draco from them, they work in the same industry so they’re bound to cross paths. Maybe-

“I’m the one who did something to them.”

Draco breaks you away from your thoughts

“What?”

“I-“

Draco looks into your puzzled face, and his heart squeezes

He didn’t want you to find out, not like this

Pretty soon you’ll be thrust into his history headfirst-

His hand is held in both of yours,

your eyes are so warm as they look up at him.

And all he can think is that he doesn’t deserve any of this

The truth is he didn’t want you to ever know

“I wasn’t a good person” he croaks

He knows he’s just as much a victim as the others, he’s got the scars and the death eater mark to prove it- both things he didn’t really want

It was coercion, they told him.

He grew up in an environment where he was punished for showing any original thought, his therapist had said

He’s a victim too

But that doesn’t mean it was okay for him to treat people like that- for him to call people that word-

“I was a bully, a monster, I was-”

Draco’s cut off when you pull him into a hug

Draco stumbles back when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” You say

He doesn’t understand why until he see’s the tears drop onto your hair

Oh, he’s crying

“Shh, it’s okay” you hum, holding him close as he sobs into your shoulder

And you two stay just like that for a long time

“I just don’t want you to think less of me” Draco murmurs, you’re both on his bed now, you’re both sitting cross legged across from each other

He looks so ashamed, it’s like he’s admitting he killed someone

In all honestly, you figured something like this might be the case.

Draco’s a rich boy, he doesn’t seem like someone who’s experienced financial struggle,

He’s someone who experienced life with a sense of entitlement

You look at him, rim of his eyes tinged pink and swelling. The almost pitiful sniffle he lets out

But the Draco in front of you isn’t like that, not anymore at least.

His kindness is still a little rough...but it’s there

You know that, you see it every time he picks up on your mood, every time he comforts you when you have a bad day

You’ve seen it during this trip, where he catered everything so you would have a good time

You just have to make him see that now

“All of that, it’s in the past now Draco” you squeeze his hand, and he finally stops looking down and up at you

“You have a past, I do too” you give him a warm smile. “but that’s all behind us now, all that matter is where we’re going from here”

Your reassuring expression and tender words make him feel like he might cry again, but this time for a different reason

“We don’t have to talk about it, not until you’re ready” you tell him

he feels his eyes sting

“I don’t deserve your kindness”

And from another man you would think it’s a plot to earn your sympathy, but looking at Draco you know he means every word

He looks like a broken man

Like he’s haunted, worn down to the bone

So you do the only thing you can think to do, knees pressing into the mattress you hover over him. Your hands cup each side of his face, tilting it up so those brilliant grey eyes are looking at you

“You deserve every part of me my love” you murmur, peppering his face with kisses

Scattering them across his cheeks, his hairline, down his thin nose, and across his jaw

Before finally catching his lips, your mouth gently caressing his

“(Y/N)-“ your name leaves him in a breathless voice- half in want and half concerned

His hand caresses your face, stopping you as you kiss down his neck

He wants to tell you that You don’t have to do any of this just because he’s feeling emotional

But he doesn’t have to say anything, because you understand immediately, giving him a kind smile

“I’m doing it because I want you-“ you take his hand , pressing kisses to the end of his fingertips

“Do you trust me?”

And Draco, who doesn’t trust his voice, can only manage a nod

“I’m going to be good for you” you murmur against his hand, and you feel him shiver underneath you.

Draco’s made love to you countless times, felt your burning skin against his hands so many times he’s lost count.

But it’s never been like this

It’s so....

He looks at you underneath him, your eyes are warm as you look up at him, and full of so much love

It’s.....Comforting.

This time making love to you is comforting.

Your hand presses against his lower abdomen, right above the place you both are connected, and it earns an involuntary shiver from him

But you don’t stop there, your hand trails up his stomach, across his chest, fingers lightly brushing against the nape of his neck before resting on his face

The action, mixed with that warm look in your eyes, feels so tender

“You’re so pretty” You murmur, your thumb rubbing tenderly across his cheek.

Caressing his face.

“My pretty boy Draco”

And he feels emotion well up within him once more.

A tear slipping down his face as he leans down to kiss you

He doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve your love

But he’s so grateful that he has it

That he has you

“Being good for him” extends past the bedroom it seems, because the next morning he wakes up to an empty bed, his body littered with kiss marks, a hot bath drawn for him with flower petals scattered across the surface, and a note

‘Took the car to the village, will be back soon. P.S take a bath and relax until I get back, I have your favorite tea in the kettle for when you’re done.’

Draco can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face

“I really don’t deserve you”

You come back only fifteen minutes later, while he’s still soaking in the tub.

You walk over to him wordlessly, rubbing his shoulders as you lean against the rim of the tub.

“How are you feeling today darling?” You murmur, kissing his temple.

“Better now that you’re here.” And he means it, he loves what you’ve done for him, but it’s always so lonely when you’re gone

He takes your hand in his, looking up at you with shining grey eyes.

“Will you join me?”

You laugh, your other hand caressing his face

“I have to go get things ready for our picnic- I thought it might be nice, there’s a place the locals told me about- a hill a few kilometers away from here.”

“That can wait can’t it?” He asks, and when you make no move to undress he adds -

“please?”

He looks like a little boy, and you find yourself relenting, pulling off your sweater with a sigh

The tub is massive, probably half the size of your bedroom, so you give Draco some room, sitting on the other side of the tub

Last night was intense, for you and for him, you don’t want to overwhelm him with too much stimulation

But Draco doesn’t let you stay far away, beckoning you to him. Only satisfied when your back is pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your chest and stomach

“I’m sorry-“ he starts, but you silence him with a simple squeeze of his hand

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for”

And it’s true. How many times has Draco comforted you- bringing you dinner when you pulled late nights at work, or kissed your tears away?

“It’s nice. Seeing another part of the person I love” you reassure

There’s a moment of silence before Draco opens his mouth again

“When I was in school, I-I -“

“ you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to” you reassure,

the two have the rest of your lives to talk about these things, there’s no rush

But Draco shake his head, and offers you a small smile

“I want to talk about it, I want you to know”

And so Draco tells you as much as he can without giving away his secret

He tells you his family comes from old money, and he internalized certain messages from that

“It’s not an excuse,” he clarifies, “but it’s part of the story too”

He tells you how he was a bully all through this childhood and into adolescence.

Even early adulthood.

How he basically tormented the people he bullied-

“Granger... I was terrible to her.” He admits, you’ve since moved away from the bath tub, and you’re sitting in the garden, drinking tea and eating scones. “I called her terrible things”

He means he called her a mudblood, the greatest insult a person can get

You’re thinking he probably called her a b*tch or a c*nt.

Honestly I’m not sure which version is worse

“Did you have a crush on her?” You ask, and Draco sputters. His cheeks blooming red

He remembers being jealous of Granger, she was always at the top of their class, and he always came in second to her.

He remembers getting lectures for it everytime he came home for the holidays

His Father always fuming how Draco was so inept that even a ‘mudblood’ could surpass him.

And some of that did transfer to his dislike for the person

He does remember thinking she looked awfully beautiful at the Yule Ball though, in that pink dress

“She’d look better in green” he had thought and then realizing what he just thought blushed and looked towards his date.

“Maybe I did.” He admits to you, almost a decade later.

And you laugh

“I bet you were a cutie” Draco only blushes even more

What you wouldn’t give to see a teenage Draco, you wonder what it would have been like if you met him when you were younger

How different would things be?

You watch Draco flush bright red, trying to cover his embarrassment with a sip of his tea

Well, the way things turned out isn’t so bad either

You spend the rest of the trip at Draco’s family’s manor, in domestic bliss

You stand on your tip toes, trying to reach a pair of mugs on the top shelf

“Here let me get that” Draco says reaching them with ease while standing behind you

You drink tea in the garden

“Draco darling, will you pass me the preserves?”

You’re both dressed like something out a a historical drama, he’s in a suit and you’ve got on a tilted sun hat and white gloves

Playing like you’re nobility vacationing in the Parisian countryside

Which... Draco sort of actually is

.... let’s not think of that

And go on picnics on the nearby hill

“Oh no” you mumble

“What’s wrong?” Draco asks while setting down the picnic blanket

“I forgot to bring glasses for the wine” you sigh

Draco shrugs

“We’ll just drink from the bottle”

You make a face and he laughs

“What does the thought of an indirect kiss make you nervous?”

You lightly shove him with a laugh

And late nights spent in their family library

“Your family sure has a strange book collection” you say holding up a book titled ‘witchcraft in the mid-1800’s’

Draco scrambles towards you

“Y-yeah that’s probably my dad, he’s kind of interested in that occult stuff...for fun, not like, because he’s apart of a cult or anything”

Not anymore at least

“I wasn’t thinking that he was apart of a cult... but I am now” you joke

You’ve moved on, scanning the rest of their collection, but Draco’s looking at you-

This last week has been like something out of a dream

He can’t imagine how happy he would be to have this everyday

He watches your hand brush against the spine of a book

He extends a hand over your own, stroking your ring finger

“Make sure this finger is empty for me, okay?”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy headcanons #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x muggle reader #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #harrypotter-imaginess

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thusspoketrish · 3 years ago

Text

Let’s Go Get the Baddies!

CW: my poor attempt at humour(?), drama queen!Draco (but who doesn’t want that?!), lots of kissing, so much ridiculousness

Written for the prompt Cruise/Cruise ship for @drarrymicrofic

Draco rolls his eyes as Harry tries to keep him at his back, preventing him from peering around the corner. Instead, Draco remains pressed up against him.

“What’s this, Potter? Now I’m incapable of a simple observation?” Draco mutters against Harry’s ear. He smiles at the slight shiver that runs through Harry.

“You’re hardly missing out on a covert operation, Draco,” Harry whispers in response, carefully manoeuvring a conjured compact mirror to peer around the corner with.

The upper deck of the cruise ship had been vacated just minutes ago by the hijackers. Draco was still in his speedo, for Merlin’s sake. And wandless. Fortunately, Harry was not only a bit more covered in his plain scarlet swim trunks and white t-shirt, but also had the mind to bring his wand along with him when they had decided to lounge at the pool earlier.

“Why does trouble always find you?” Draco tsks, crossing his arms against his naked chest. “Is this something I’m going to have to deal with forever?”

“Draco, please,” Harry warns. “I’m trying to listen to the main hijacker’s demands.” Then, after a slight pause he says, “I’m hardly to be blamed for this. It’s not like they’re here for me. For once.”

“What are they here for?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. Wealth. Power. World-domination. All I know is that this is fucking up our entire itinerary,” Harry sighs, pocketing the compact mirror and straightening up. “There’s seven men holding the captain and his crew hostage. No fatalities. Another three patrolling the main deck, from what I saw earlier. I also noticed about five suspicious men on the lower deck when I was coming from the kitchens this morning.”

Draco looks perplexed. “Is that where you were, you insufferable arse. You said you were out strolling, not stuffing your face without me!”

“I wasn’t,” Harry says quickly.

“Then what were you down there for? Hmm?”

“It’s not important right now,” Harry snaps, but his cheeks flush. He pushes his glasses up with a finger. “Have you any other intel you’d like to provide?” The air of impatience around Harry is palpable, and so not on.

Draco scowls. “Okay Mr Big Bad Team Leader Auror Potter! All of them have automatics. All of them seem extremely angry. There. Fuck you very much.”

Harry sighs wearily, pushing his glasses up to massage the bridge of his slightly crooked nose.

“We should just go back to our cabin, call for backup, and pretend this never happened,” Draco continues, feeling petulant and taking great pleasure from Harry’s subtle frustration.

“Fat chance of that. We’re bloody Aurors, Draco.”

“But this is my bloody honeymoon!” Draco pouts.

“Our honeymoon. And unfortunately there are hundreds of lives at stake and I can’t imagine choosing to ignore saving those lives to shag you rotten in our room.”

Draco gasps, his eyes livid. “How dare you say something like that to me! Me, your husband. The future other father of our children. The man you’ve literally bonded your bloody, selfish, piggish soul to!”

Harry places a hand on each of Draco’s shoulders and gives him a slight shake. “Draco. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. My cherished, heart’s desire…I will shag you three hundred different ways all over this fucking cruise ship if you help me apprehend these baddies, okay?”

“That’s quite a tall order, Potter, are you sure you can handle it?”

Harry’s responding grin is so wicked and devilish, Draco is nowhere near surprised that the blood in his body pumps south. “Don’t underestimate me,” Harry says, his tone pitched low, husky. Draco shivers.

“Hmmm, I haven’t yet, Potter,” Draco says, leaning in to press a soft, chaste kiss to his husband’s lips. “Okay. Let’s go get the baddies.”

Harry hands him his wand. “You take this. Stay to my left. Stun the ones with the weapons first. I’ll take the one holding the captain via hand to hand. Once we have them bound with rope, we’ll silence them and make our way through the ship.”

“You’re comfortable going entirely wandless for this?”

Draco can feel his cheeks flush as Harry begins to flex his shoulders and arms, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet before conjuring a small, scarlet orb of magic in his right palm. It’s a perfectly controlled, unreleased, Stupefy. “Locked and loaded,” Harry says, as if he's in some terrible film that's both Muggle and American.

Draco growls before pulling Harry towards him, ignoring the sharp yelp of surprise Harry makes, to crush their lips together in a bruising, filthy kiss. “Merlin, you’re so bloody hot. I can’t wait to get you in bed after we handle this,” Draco says against Harry’s lips. When he pulls back, Harry is slightly dazed.

“The feeling is completely mutual, babe,” Harry says with a crooked smile.

Later on, when they’ve apprehended all the hijackers, and both backup Aurors and Muggle coast guards and marine police are roaming the ship, Draco stands beside Harry, only half listening to his partner recount the slightly altered tale of how they took out fifteen extremely dangerous hijackers.

“We’re lucky to have had two skilled rangers on board,” the coast guard says.

“Really, it was no problem at all. Happy to have helped,” Harry says.

Draco nearly chokes as he tries to hide his laugh over the ridiculousness of their cover. “I, for one, would like to disagree. This was a huge inconvenience to our honeymoon. I had to fight these creeps in just a Speedo. My modesty was in constant jeopardy.” One of the marine officers actually provided Draco a jacket earlier, but this did little to smooth away Draco’s annoyance over the whole wasted day.

The guard stops taking down notes and instead shoots Harry a bewildered, questioning look. Harry grins sheepishly and shrugs.

“My husband has been through quite the ordeal today, sir. If you don’t mind, we’d like to continue our honeymoon in peace,” Harry says, wrapping his arms around Draco’s body.

“Get a room!” one of the bounded hijackers snarls in disgust from his position on the floor.

Draco moves to kick him but Harry blocks his way. “We would have been doing exactly that and more in that very room had you bastards not interrupted us!”

“Ignore him, he’s not worth it,” Harry says, the corners of his lips twitching.

Just then, they’re approached by an elderly man. Draco recognises him as the cruise’s three-star Michelin chef.

“A reminder, Mr Potter, that we are still on for tonight. Thank you for saving our lives, gentlemen,” the chef says with a small nod before shuffling off.

“What’s he on—oh…” Draco says, realisation dawned on him. Harry’s answering blush is all the confirmation Draco needs. “You silly, gorgeous, selflessly charming man,” Draco simpers, pulling Harry in closer.

“Surprise!” Harry says, boyish grin once again firmly in place.

Draco wraps his arms around Harry tighter and then spins him on his heel, dipping him backwards with a flourish. Harry’s hands immediately clasp behind his neck. “Oh, we are just beginning with the surprises, husband of mine,” Draco purrs.

And then Draco kisses him.

He has to say.

This may very well be the best honeymoon ever.

#drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #thank you skeptiquewrites for your beta work!!! I appreciate you so much!#drama queen Draco Malfoy #Harry is frustrated #I'm so sorry.#drarry #drarry fic #cruise #cruise ships #poor attempt at humour #lots of kissing #can I call this fluff?#it's fluff #can we say it's a bit cracky? Yes #Bring on the crack

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

Text

Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance.

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

Not this time.

On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

They were not fine.

Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

Because everything was falling apart.

Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser. Everything would go perfectly.

…Everything went wrong.

They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

They were on their own.

Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

Marinette screamed.

They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

Marinette laughed.

She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

Marinette smirked.

Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better

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ectonurites · 4 years ago

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My least favorite type of fic!Tim is when he’s portrayed as depressed/very mentally and emotionally unstable, but also at the same time as someone who is like lauded as being super dangerous/the most skilled or something like that?? Those fics where Tim is chugging caffeine and barely sleeping, but characters are still like “oh I wouldn’t wanna piss off Tim he is Dangerous” and that’s annoying enough but then there are fics that at the same time as that portray him as like on the edge of a breakdown. It’s very irritating even if I’m not sure I can articulate exactly why, it just really rubs me the wrong way. Like, I definitely do think Tim has some issues with depression and stuff, but in fics like those it’s treated more like a quirk sort of instead of a serious issue

LMAOO I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT i’m not a fan of that either. I’m apologizing in advance if I sound mean in any of this critique i’m about to give of that fanon version of him. I want to preface this by saying that people can write whatever the hell they want, like, they’re allowed to! And I’m not referencing/calling out any specific works here. Just trends. But I’m gonna bitch about some things I’ve noticed that annoy me, personally. (so again, not saying other people can’t enjoy this stuff! just. not for me)

so like sorry if im mean but this is just me ranting and also this is my blog anyways so:

(nobody take this as an attack on them please because it’s really not)

The problem is a lot of those fics seem to interpret Tim’s behavior in Red Robin (& especially like that last whole arc of his Robin run also by FabNic) as if that’s his normal, rather than the result of a few years of CONSTANT traumatic incidents pushing him to a breaking point (because while all the shit he went through with his Dad, Steph, Kon, Bart, and then Bruce dying was spread out over several years for us as readers, it’s regarded as like within two years in canon! It all happens when he’s 16 and 17. According to the Batman comic right after War Games, Jack was murdered only days after Steph died.

(Batman #634)

That’s a LOT to process for one kid jesus christ)

I love Red Robin honestly, I do, but it is about Tim at the lowest points in his life. It’s the grand finale of Tim’s story, and everything crumbles, that’s kinda the point! The end leaves him in a position to either rebuild himself or fall apart. It’s all about how he chooses to continue after this point!

(Red Robin #26)

The way he acts and the things he does in that comic should be regarded as such. He can’t live the way he does in Red Robin forever or he will literally burn himself out/become something unrecognizable, like, jesus it’s kinda even acknowledged in the comic when he thinks about what his potential futures would be if he keeps it up like he’s doing:

(Red Robin #25)

He sees himself as dead, as Batman (which he has countless times said he doesn’t want to be and at this point in his history almost every time he’s seen a future he became Batman in he had become a killer), or needing to retire and taking over an Oracle-esque role, likely because he exerted himself too much to continue.

When you look at him around this same timeframe when he’s not isolating himself/too deep into the mission and is instead working with his friends back on the Titans, you can see that he is starting to heal and work in a more positive direction. He’s choosing to work on coming out of this rough period by being together with his friends who he loves.

(Teen Titans (2003) #100)

Not to say that you can’t write about situations in which he doesn’t start to come out of it, but if you are doing so it’s something you should be taking seriously because that’s the idea you want to explore, not just acting like it’s perfectly okay or normal? (And again, there are a lot of works that do explore it in good ways, there’s just also a LOT that don’t)

Like, so much content I see just make any sadness and depression and tendency to over-work himself that’s rooted in his traumas (which! those do have a basis in canon!) into a quirky personality trait rather than a response to trauma. Acting as if he’s always been this way and it’s normal for him. That’s what bothers me. If people want to seriously explore the effects of all these incidents and how that plays into his ability to do his job as a hero, then hell yes do it! But when it all gets brushed off as ‘oh thats just tim, he just doesnt eat or sleep or feel any happiness but like its fine he’s just always been like that’ I feel my blood boil.

This also often strikes me as related/tied to fanon’s seemingly never-ending quest to make Tim into this victim of so many things he really wasn’t. They make his childhood 10x worse than it actually was (yes he was lonely because he was sent to boarding schools rather than having his parents around, but he was NOT just left home alone all the time as a child.

(Batman #441)

He snuck away during a school vacation week to follow Bruce one (1) time and to then track down Dick. This is established in his introduction story! PLEASE read Lonely Place of Dying!) and it just... going with those fanon assumptions as being true changes so much of how people characterize him!

Some people will also (not to call out tim/kon shippers especially because I literally am also one but) vilify the shit out of Steph and make their relationship out to be some abusive thing rather than just... a messy teen relationship between vigilantes because they had really complicated lives and baggage with one another? Which they both acknowledge they made mistakes in!

(Red Robin #10)

Or people will vilify the shit out of Dick in regards to the situation at the start of Red Robin, or literally just make anyone who Tim ever had a disagreement with out to be the bad guy despite the actual situations always being way more complex and multi-faceted than that.

And then on top of all that, aside from making him into this ‘im broken 24/7 and not doing anything to fix it also everyone around me is terrible to me’ type of character, because he’s a lot of people’s favorite, they also want him to be as cool and strong as he is at his high points. So they’re projecting all this stuff onto him that makes him what should be a barely functioning person but then also act like that’s fine and he’s able to be a dangerous badass on top of it.

Like I’m sorry but someone who is going out and actively acting as a vigilante like that which is incredibly physically taxing is NOT surviving on coffee alone and no sleep. That’s literally not possible, he’d fucking collapse. (And like, again, if you want to explore him pushing himself to that point, that’s one thing! but acting like he can manage all of that for more than a few days at a time/maybe while working on one really tough case is nuts!) and like, even canon can be a little guilty of this type of thing particularly since the New 52 (Detective Comics 2016 had more than a few references to him barely sleeping, but at least they also made references to him eating normally/healthily and he wasn’t completely self isolating or anything) (and also that comic had him be so self sacrificial he was ready to die to save everyone and only didn’t die because of Mr.Oz’s interference, he’s definitely not in his best place there) but usually it’s still within some realm of possibility.

Also like. The fanon ‘chugging coffee to survive thing’ just annoys the shit out of me because, like, yes there’s a few moments in canon where he’s under a lot of pressure and pushing himself further than he normally would and had some coffee (one of the only times I can even remember him having it on panel is... oh... during that last Robin arc I just mentioned a little while ago shouldn’t be where you source your normal characterization of him because it’s a very difficult situation that pushes him further than he normally would go! huh!) But the thing is like, people play it off for laughs, or like it’s a normal thing he would do at any time in his life! If you want to explore him pushing himself and using coffee as a crutch, like, there’s ways you can write it that takes it seriously, but almost every time I see it come up in fics it is like a core part of his personality and just ‘oh haha silly tim always with his entire pot of coffee he must chug every morning or he’ll die :^)’ And that bothers the hell out of me.

In general it’s just... people treat Tim so weird. They want him to be so many different things that he’s shown himself to be at different times for very specific reasons, except they want him to do all of it at the same time which just doesn’t work. A person can’t function like that, and it’s not even close to who he is in canon.

Again, people can do what they want, and this is just my opinion obviously, but yeah. My two cents on the matter. Read Lonely Place of Dying, read Young Justice, read his Robin run. Read his comics and get a feel for who he was before all the rest of his trauma, and see how he canonically reacts to it along the way. I know reading comics can be tough for some people but so much stuff just echo chambers and becomes barely recognizable in this fandom and it’s just... a shame when it happens with a character ya love.

#Anonymous

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jokertrap-ran · 4 years ago

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(未定事件簿) EVENT!「异乡行歌·上篇」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Romantic Rail Getaway- Later Half Translations (Mo Yi’s Route)

Day 1: The Old Town of Lange― The Charm of the Hometown of Grapes (兰格老城区: 葡乡的魅力)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

Location: Cultural Salon

Salon Speaker: In lieu of the progress and development of Technology, the fully automated factory assembly line used to produce wine now reached full maturity.

Salon Speaker: People no longer have to worry about the instability of the wine, that would tarnish the quality of the end product, when doing manual brewing.

Salon Speaker: Of course, there are also certain regions that put emphasis on doing it the traditional way and have continued doing so manually.

Salon Speaker: Alas, we cannot afford to leave out Barosco— The famed Country of Wine.

……

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

The speaker’s comedic style of presentation made everyone listen in with apt interest at the “Barosco Wine Culture” talk.

The 2-hour lecture wasn’t lengthy at all. In fact, it actually made people even more interested in the remote Country of Wine.

I was still enamoured by the scent of wine even after the place had emptied out after the talk, unable to snap back to my senses from the trance I had fallen under.

MC: The Country of wine…? I wonder if even the air will carry the fragrance of wine…?

Mo Yi: Are you interested in Barosco?

MC: Yeah. I happened to see a travel guide for Barosco just the other day!

MC: It mentioned a couple of other popular attractions alongside a Railway Tour about Wine Culture, which I find particularly interesting!

In fact, the main purpose why I’d come down to this talk was to learn more about Barosco.

The small Country famous for its Wine Culture had a pleasant climate and boasted beautiful sceneries that made people yearn to see it with their own eyes.

Mo Yi: It’s always better to witness it with one’s own eyes and hear it with one’s own ears. It’ll be best for you to simply go there and experience it for yourself.

MC: Oh?

It was clearly a simple sentence, no matter how you looked at it; but for some reason or another, it really resonated with my heart.

He’s right. I can definitely experience a different sort of beauty from Stellis City over there in Barosco, right?

Plus, I’ve not been too busy lately, so it’ll be no problem at all to just take a couple days of annual leave and go have fun elsewhere.

Mo Yi: (Y/n), do you want to go to Barosco with me?

Mo Yi: Maybe we can go experience the newly opened Railway Train Route together?

MC: You want to go too?

I realized something fatal the moment the words left my mouth. Doesn’t this mean that I’ve technically sold my heart to the idea!?

Mo Yi: I’ve been there a couple of times before. And I’m also relatively familiar with Barosco myself.

Mo Yi: Besides, I’ve been on Spring Vacation lately, so I have plenty of time to spare.

Mo Yi: I wish to accompany you on this trip and be your tour guide, if you don’t mind.

His golden eyes were coloured with expectation, making me unable to refuse him.

MC: I want to go with you too.

Mo Yi: Great. It’s about time you relax a little after having worked so hard for so long.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Thus, that was how we decided to go on a trip together.

Everything all the way from booking to departure went smoothly without a hitch. And soon, we started our journey to the Country of Wine...

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Railway Tour's Starting Station

MC: The Travel Brochure’s so detailed! It introduces the name, type, taste and quality of all the wines in here.

MC: Oo? They even have grapevine planting methods written in this thing…!

I passed the time by reading the Travel Brochure that we’d been handed after passing the customs while waiting for the train to arrive at the Station.

I didn’t expect the brochure to contain not only information about the various scenery spots, but also records that detail the many varieties of local speciality wines.

Simply put, it was literally a small wine encyclopaedia.

Mo Yi: Looks like the locals here are very proud and confident in the wine that’s MC: Yeah. It feels like they’re broadcasting to the world: “Come taste my wine!”.

While we were happily chatting, a member of the staff pushed a trolly past the platform, parking it in a vacant area nearby.

Staff: Dear tourists, come try some fresh handmade wine free of charge!

Staff: Please show your ticket to enjoy this surprise that our Station has specially prepared for you!

Staff: A special reminder that this only applies for adult tourists! Minors are not allowed to drink alcohol!

MC: Looks like we’ve struck the jackpot, Dr. Mo! We have a taste of Barosco wine before we’re even there!

There were many tourists in the Station, but thankfully, there were staff members around to help guide everyone in an orderly fashion.

It didn’t take long before Mo Yi and I both got our share of the goods.

I took a sip in anticipation. The taste of the liquor instantly lingered between my lips and tongue, the complex and rich aroma spreading throughout my palate.

Mo Yi: How’s the taste of Barosco’s handmade wine? Is it anything like you imagined it to be?

Mo Yi swirled his wineglass but didn’t seem interested in taking a drink out of it. Rather, he appeared much more interested in my evaluation of said wine after having just tasted it myself.

MC: It tastes...

▷Choice: Nicer

MC: I think it tastes nicer than any wine I’ve drunk before.

I tried to remember the wine-tasting terms of description that I’d learned back in the Wine Culture Salon back then.

MC: It tastes refreshing, mellow, and smooth… And what else…? Never mind, I can’t think of any more terms to describe it.

MC: In any case, it’s delicious.

Mo Yi: Looks like the wine here is actually pretty good.

MC: Yeah! I’m thinking of bringing a couple of bottles of their Speciality Wine back to Stellis City!

Mo Yi: The trip hasn’t even started yet. Who knows, you might find other local specialities you want to bring back during the trip itself.

MC: Yup! I’ll have to rely on you to lug the rest of the stuff back if it ever comes down to that!

Perhaps the way I spoke with such confidence had amused him, for his eyes were brightly lit with a smile.

Mo Yi: Of course.

▷Choice: Not very different

MC: In all honesty… It doesn’t seem all that different from the wines I’ve drunk before...

It was as delicious as it came, but if I were to describe just how good it was, I’m afraid that’s something way out of my field.

I struggled for a while, trying to find a way to best describe it; only to settle for the plain hard truth moments after.

MC: Well, I guess I don’t have what it takes to be a wine connoisseur.

Mo Yi: It’s not your fault.

Mo Yi: It’s just wine that the Station’s providing the tourists here to taste-test. There are really no other outstanding traits to it other than it being easy to drink.

MC: Heh… The staff will definitely get mad if they heard you say that.

Mo Yi: Well, you’re the only one I plan on telling.

Mo Yi: You’ll have to go to a special local winery if you want to taste fine wine… We should be getting to one in a couple of days.

MC: Yeah! That’s just one more thing to anticipate!

Mo Yi: Alright, it’s about time for us to board.

Mo Yi: I have a feeling that this is going to be one beautiful and extraordinary journey.

MC: Yeah, me too!

With the delicious food, beautiful sceneries to admire, and the company of Dr. Mo added along to the fray, this was turning out to be an extremely exciting trip!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅ Romantic Rail Getaway⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (Day 1: The Old Town of Lange― Lange’s Commercial Street)

#Tears of Themis #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #Vyn Richter #weiding shijian bu #Mo Yi #tears of themis translations #异乡行歌 #Romantic Rail Getaway #Tears of an Event #Fukushima Jun #福島潤

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cal-puddies · 5 years ago

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remember when we couldn’t take the heat || ashton irwin

a lovely anon requested another trope fic for @kindahoping4forever and i to tag team, so we did.

As always Crystal is amazing and please share love with her as well (i do share any comments you all leave with her as well!) With her help I really think we were able to take this to next level, so it would not be this good without her! I hope you all love it!

You check your bag one last time before zipping it shut. You check your phone, seeing you still had about an hour before Michael and Crystal picked you up on their way to the airport.

A week long getaway at an all inclusive resort with five of your best friends (and one last minute addition of a new significant other) was exactly what you needed.

You thanked your lucky stars every night that Kay Kay was too busy, meaning Ashton had decided not to go. The two of you had never gotten along and you don't think you'd ever be able to relax if he was there.

So you're more than disappointed to see him strolling up to the gate. The second you spot him, you groan to Sierra, “You guys promised me he wouldn’t be here.”

She frowns and rushes over to have a quick sidebar with Luke. She returns, super apologetic and quickly explains that Ashton's relationship had recently blown up again and that he had texted Luke last night some vague questions about the trip but they had no idea that meant he intended to tag along.

“Well. He better not be next to me," you pout, crossing your arms.

But of course he is, because why not start off your relaxing vacation this way? And instead of seeming heartbroken about his break up, he’s flirting with all the flight attendants and every girl in line around him, until he sees he’s sitting next to you. He plops in the seat and immediately scrunches his face up.

“There’s gotta be another seat,” he grumbles, flagging down a flight attendant who assures him it's a full flight and there is in fact not a single other seat available.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me," Ash murmurs after the flight attendant walks away.

“Not like this is my dream flight either, buddy,” you groan.

Sensing the already mounting tension, Luke looks across the aisle with an apologetic smile to you and mouths ‘Sorry.'

Ashton immediately pulls out headphones and makes a big show out of ignoring you. He pulls his leather jacket off, accidentally elbowing your shoulder and smacking the sleeve in your face.

“What the fuck, Irwin?" You seethe.

He glares at you and shrugs, going back to his music.

Who the fuck wears a leather jacket to a fucking beach getaway? Could he look any less practical? You wonder briefly if he even brought anything suitable for the weather before you realize you shouldn’t give a single fuck about what’s in his bag.

You successfully ignore each other through the rest of boarding and take-off. At the earliest possible opportunity you order a drink and he comments, "A little early, don't you think?" You search your mind for a better retort than "Not when I'm sitting next to you, asshole" but then you realize it doesn't matter what you say because he didn't even bother to take off his headphones to make his remark.

To compound the dirty look you receive from him, Luke and Sierra order a drink for you as well. You gratefully chug both before ordering another, grumbling under your breath that this flight could not be over soon enough.

Ashton makes nice with the flight attendant and even takes his headphones off to flirt with her a bit. You roll your eyes at whatever bullshit lines he's feeding her and think now would be the perfect time to doze off for a cat nap if his voice wasn't so fucking loud.

You huff as she walks away, “Can you keep it down loudmouth?” You adjust your cardigan against the side of the plane and close the window shade, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning your head against the balled up fabric.

“I’d like to be able to see the sun," Ashton says, putting his sunglasses on and flipping the shade up.

You grit your teeth, “What’s the fuckin point if you put the sunglasses on?”

“Does it inconvenience you?” He asks, looking at your face and finding you must agree. “Then that’s the fuckin point, Princess.”

Your eyes narrow as you stare at him in disbelief, but you manage to keep yourself from selecting one of the literal hundreds of insulting comebacks you have running through your mind.

Guys like Ashton live off of getting reactions from people and the best way you could stick it to him is to simply not give him one.

You lean back in your seat and shake out your sweater, draping the sleeve over your face to create a makeshift eye shade for your nap. He scoffs at your actions, clearly hoping you'll take the bait and when you don't, you feel his glare on you for several beats before he pulls out his phone to find another way to entertain himself.

You’re able to ignore him for the rest of the flight, and you feel accomplished knowing it's driving him nuts that you’re no longer reacting to him.

You wait patiently to get off the plane, getting more than mildly annoyed at Ashton’s impatience. But you try not to say anything. He gets out of the row and you let Sierra and then Luke out across the aisle. “You two can no longer be trusted,” you jab at Luke.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Luke gives you an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know he would really come and I wouldn’t have wanted you to miss this.” He tries to explain with a pout but you just roll your eyes at the giant man in front of you.

You manage to claim your baggage without incident and you narrowly avoid the misfortune of having to sit next to Ash on the shuttle to the resort. Luke, obviously trying to win back your favor, offers to let you sit with Sierra and he sits in the open seat next to Ashton.

“Just don’t let him get to you,” Sierra says. “We’re still gonna have fun and there’s enough of us that you shouldn’t have to interact.”

Her reassurance helps soothe your nerves for the time being.

When you arrive at the resort, everyone mingles and chatters excitedly in the lobby while Luke and Sierra check your party in. Calum and his girlfriend keep Ash occupied and away from you and you couldn't be more grateful, taking the opportunity to make small talk with Michael and Crystal.

Check-in is taking a lot longer than it should and you crane your neck to try and see the front desk from where you're at. You happen to catch Sierra's gaze from across the room and she offers you a forced smile before she quickly looks away. Whatever's happening, it can't be good and you have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with the last minute addition to your trip.

When Sierra and Luke come back, they both refuse to make eye contact with you, making you even more suspicious. They hand out key cards to the other two couples and then both take a deep breath and look between you and Ash.

“What?” You ask point blank.

Luke purses his lips together, “They’re booked, they don’t have a room for Ash... but... your suite has a couch...”

“You’ve actually gotta be kidding me,” you quip.

“We won’t even be in the rooms except to sleep, it’ll be fine babe!” Sierra tries to convince you.

You groan, not even bothering to look at Ashton. “Fine.” You grit your teeth.

Ashton is obviously not thrilled with this arrangement either and you see him pull Luke aside, animatedly waving his hands as he complains.

You take the opportunity to head up to the room first in hopes of marking your territory: claiming the good drawers, the prime counter space in the bathroom. He needs to know you're doing him a favor by letting him stay in your room.

Ash comes in while you’re setting up in the bathroom and he immediately tries to stake claim on the bed. He’s flung himself across it when you come out of the bathroom.

“Keep dreaming, Irwin.”

“I got here first,” he states, tucking his arms behind his head with a smug look on his face.

You push his boot-clad feet off the bed with a huff. "Yes, you got here to MY bed first," you say with exaggerated enunciation. "MY bed in MY room. Since it was booked for ME. Since I was INVITED on this trip."

“I was invited too,” he reminds you, standing up, ready to argue.

“But you declined! And reinvited yourself literally last minute. If you had agreed when you were originally asked, we wouldn’t be sharing a fucking room," you say with exasperation.

"It worked out though," he shrugs dismissively.

You feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head as you glare at him. "Does this seem like things working out to you?!"

“Honestly yes. We’ve both got a place to stay, I get to be here with my brothers... besides... Rock Star here, need I remind you, I don’t sleep on couches,” he starts.

“Blow me with that bullshit,” you quip. “This trip was supposed to be relaxing and now I can’t get laid because I can’t bring anyone back here... AND I have to see you literally first thing in the morning... AND you’re trying to take my bed... it’s the couch for you, Irwin. I don’t give a fuck who you think you are. And I think your BROTHERS would back me up on this," you say mockingly.

“I don’t know why you have to be such a bitch about this. And of course Luke will back you up, he’d hate for Sierra to be mad at him,” he rolls his eyes.

“I think he’d hate to know what a fucking diva you’re trying to be,” you sneer. “Why can’t you just go crash on one of their couches?”

"Like I said, I'm not trying to sleep on anyone's couch, sweetheart," he explains, the condescension dripping off of his words. "Plus, there's no way I'm about to be anyone's third wheel, something you clearly have no problem with."

You take a beat, pinching the bridge of your nose and taking two deep breaths. “Hate to break it to you Rock Star, but you ARE a third wheel on this trip. I just wanted a vacation with friends... but, as per usual your thotty ass comes along and turns it into my own personal hell. I paid for this room, so you can find yourself on the couch, freeloader.”

He gives a single snort in response which honestly infuriates you more than if he had come back at you with some long-winded monologue. He drags his suitcase to the couch and busies himself with unpacking, slamming drawers and grumbling every step of the way. You can't even be happy about winning the bed argument because you're so worked up now you can hear your heart pounding in your ears.

You grab your phone and angrily text Luke and Sierra, “Does 5sos really need a drummer? Can he be replaced? Because the current one is about to be dead.”

Luke responds with the crying laughing emoji which has you about to launch your phone across the room. Sierra is typing for quite a bit but eventually just ends up sending a simple "Hang in there sweetie, it'll be worth it tomorrow!"

You call room service to order a bottle of vodka, it’s the only way you’ll be able to deal with him. You hear Calum in the room and make an appearance, plastering on a fake smile. He gestures to his girl, “We were just gonna go check out the resort, wanted to see if you guys wanted to come?”

“I’ll pass thanks, I just ordered some room service. But Ash, you should absolutely go,” you encourage, gritting your teeth.

“Gladly... who goes on vacation to sit in their room anyway?” He quips.

Rather than fight in front of Cal, you give the group a sickly sweet "Have fun!" and breathe a sigh of relief when they shuffle out the door.

You take the chance to relax, changing out of your plane outfit and into something more appropriate for the more tropical setting, you open the balcony doors and wander out onto it. It really couldn’t be prettier. You’re drawn out by a knock on the door and you think it must be room service, but it’s Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal. Luke is holding your bottle of vodka.

“Had it charged to our room,” he says, thrusting it toward you. “We wanna go exploring. But let’s all get a drink first.” He smiles, “Save this for later.”

“Ash still here?” Crystal asks, peering into the room.

“He went with Cal... thank god,” you grumble. You set the vodka on the bedside table and grab your bag and sunglasses to head out with them.

One drink with the group becomes two which becomes decidedly more than two and they convince you to explore with them. By the time you get back to the room, Ashton has returned and is lounging on the couch as if he hasn't a care in the world. "Hey roomie," he dryly greets you without looking up from his phone.

“Hey asshole,” you slur, followed by a hiccup. You walk toward the bed and kick your shoes off, and very quickly follow it up with peeling your top off. “Why’s it s’hot?” You hiccup again and land haphazardly on the bed.

"AC wasn't acting right so I called the front desk and they said someone could look at it tomorrow," he explains noncommittally. "I, however, had the decency to leave my clothes on because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

You scoff at his implication. Or you mean to, at least. Despite the climate of the room, the events of the day combined with your intoxicated state has you drifting off before you know it. As you fade into unconsciousness, you think you hear Ash snipe in the distance, "If you barf on the bed during the night, I'm not helping you clean that shit up."

You make a mocking tone at him, you think. And you’re out.

After an evening of drinking, you wake up at 3 AM, needing the bathroom. You immediately notice you’re somehow tucked in bed, even though you’re 90% sure you passed out halfway on it. Your shorts are unbuttoned but not off and all the lights in the bedroom are off. When you make your way to the bathroom, you peek over at Ashton on the couch and he’s sprawled on his stomach, only in his boxer briefs. It’s then you realize it’s still ungodly hot in the suite. You shut the bathroom door, turn on the light and take a quick look at yourself in the mirror before deciding you need to wash your face before going back to bed.

You're in no rush as you use the toilet, wash your face and brush your teeth. It's been an exhausting day and you could use the alone time. You're careful to shut off the light before you open the door and start to tiptoe your way back to bed.

You nearly jump out of your skin when a gruff voice barks at you, "Think you could make any more noise in there, princess?" You're livid but you say nothing and lay back down.

When you wake up in the morning, you’ve managed to almost completely forget about sharing your room with Ash. So it’s a rude awakening when you find him emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips, water dripping from his hair, muscles rippling as he starts digging through his drawers.

“Oh... the princess has decided to grace us,” he rolls his eyes, seeing you’re awake. “You’ve got like 45 minutes till we all do breakfast and judging by the way your phone has been buzzing, someone thinks I killed you last night.”

You groan and wipe your hand over your face, “More like making sure I didn’t kill you.”

As you reach for your phone on the nightstand, you realize the sheets are sticking to your skin which is covered in sweat. "Did the front desk say what time they were coming to fix the air? And Jesus, as if this place wasn't humid enough, why exactly did you need to take the world's steamiest shower?"

“Gotta relax these muscles after sleeping on the world's most uncomfortable couch, sweetheart,” he retorts. “And no, I was not given an ETA but I’m sure when we go down for breakfast you can complain again. Maybe if you do it, it’ll get fixed faster,” he snarks.

You roll your eyes and grab something to wear from your drawers, slamming the bathroom door behind you.

You take a cold shower, partly to wake you up and partly to cool you down (and mostly because Ash definitely used all the hot water on purpose). Even without creating steam, the bathroom is sweltering so as soon as you get dressed, you crack the door open in hopes of maintaining some airflow. You throw your hair in a ponytail and are applying a basic face of makeup when you feel Ash's eyes boring into you.

You look behind you through the mirror and see him propped up against the door frame, observing. "We're just going to breakfast, not the royal ball, Princess. You don't need all that shit."

“Why’s it any of your business?” You ask, staring at him in the mirror. You wait a beat and then work on finishing your makeup, topping off with mascara and lip gloss.

"Just an observation," he begins but is cut off by a knock at the front door. He leaves to answer and you take a few deep breaths to relax yourself. All you have to do is get down to breakfast and then you can enjoy the company of the people you actually came on this trip to spend time with. You hear Ash loudly joking with someone and you exit the bathroom hoping to see a handyman on the receiving end of his banter, but it's just Luke and Sierra.

Sierra smiles at you, “Hey beautiful, how’d you sleep?” She asks.

“I think the only reason I slept so well is because I drank so much. It’s fuckin hot in here.”

“It’s bad in our room too,” Luke shares. “We tried to call maintenance but no ETA on when they’ll be up, sounded like we weren’t the only ones suffering.” He shrugs.

Sierra notes your look of concern and interjects, "But we've got a ton of fun shit planned for the day so we won't be in our rooms too much anyways and hopefully it'll all be sorted when we get back!"

Luckily you were able to get some much needed space from Ashton during breakfast. You sat at opposite ends of the table and Sierra and Crystal did their best to keep your mind off of things.

"Sorry I'm being such a bitch, you guys," you confess during a trip to the ladies' room. "I don't want you to feel like you have to baby-sit me the whole time, you're supposed to be enjoying the time off you have with your guys."

"Babe, we get it," Crystal reassures you. "It's not like this thing with you and Ash is anything new, we're all used to having to navigate it."

"And it's fine, sometimes people just don't get along," Sierra chimes in. "You're not obligated to like all of your friends' friends. We’re all adults, we can handle it."

After breakfast you do a few touristy things and a little bit of shopping before going back to the resort to prep for some much needed beach time.

Ash scoffs as you sort through bikinis, “How many of those fuckin things did you need to bring? Are you going to be ready anytime soon?”

“It’s not like you’re actually waiting for me anyway,” you murmur, otherwise ignoring him.

But he’s not ignoring you, he’s watching your body move through the space, clad only in the bikini you selected. And it almost makes him more annoyed the way you definitely seem to be so confident in it. “Was that your best one?” He snarks.

"Sorry that some of us are actually into making an effort," you shrug. "And why is it your new favorite hobby to just stand there and watch me get ready, don't you have anything better to do?"

You shove past him in the doorway to fetch your beach bag out of the closet. The room's swampy temperature has not improved and you hate that you can feel the transfer of sweat from his skin to yours when you brush up against him.

“I was just trying to be polite and wait for you to head down but I didn’t realize it'd be such an ordeal,” he grumbles, slipping his sandals on. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbles to himself.

“No one asked you to wait, just fuckin go, Irwin. I don’t need an escort,” you exclaim, pulling on a pair of shorts.

“An escort is probably the only way you’d get laid with that attitude,” he gruffs, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

You ball your fists up in rage and whip a sandal towards the door. It hits with a satisfying smack and you can't help but wish you had tossed it 15 seconds earlier so that noise would've come from the back of Ashton's head. You walk over to retrieve your shoe and are startled by the knock at the door.

You open it to find Cal with a half-amused, half-concerned expression on his face and his girlfriend looking bewildered. Their relationship was new and this was really the first she had experienced your dynamic with Ash in all of its dysfunctional glory.

"You doing alright?" He inquires, trying to peek inside the room behind you.

"I'm just ready to lay in the sun and not think about anything,” you say, grabbing your bag off the counter behind you and closing the door.

Turns out the sunshine and drinks was exactly what you needed to calm down and within an hour you were laughing and playing in the water with everyone, though you had to watch Ashton flirt with everything that moved, even encouraging them to call him “Daddy, because all his friends do.”

As much fun as you're having, you can't help but notice the heat of the day doesn't seem to be passing. Tired from being in the sun, everyone agrees to head back to their respective rooms for a short rest before meeting back up for a late dinner. You know even Ashton must be spent when the hot wind starts blowing your beach hat off your head and he retrieves it and returns it to you without comment.

“D’you wanna shower first?” He asks, when the two of you return to the room. “Think you got some extra sun,” he mentions. “I can put aloe on if you need.”

“First shower would be great, thanks,” you yawn. “You'll probably need some aloe on your neck and shoulders. I have some if you didn’t bring any,” you offer and then head for the bathroom.

You take your brief shower and come out in just a towel. You grab the aloe, gently toss it to Ash and he makes quick work, lightly coating your red skin in the gel.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, capping it and heading for his own shower.

It doesn't hit you how weird it was to have a pleasant interaction with Ash until after you're dressed. You're rooting around in the suite's fridge for cold water and without thinking, you place two on the counter. You stare at the bottles for a beat, almost as if they appeared there on their own.

"One of those for me?" Ash's voice asks from behind you, startling you out of your confusion.

"I... guess so?" You answer with a shrug, turning to hand him the beverage. He's shirtless and the pair of athletic shorts he's chosen for his post-shower attire hang low on his hips and you wonder why you've made note of that.

“Thanks?” He replies, equally confused. “Wanna watch some tv?” He asks.

“Sure,” you shrug. He clears his stuff off the couch and you sit at opposite ends. You doze off before you even decide on what to watch.

You awaken to the sound of both your and Ash's phones vibrating on the coffee table. You're disoriented but cognizant enough to realize you must have slept through the time you agreed to meet for dinner.

“Oh shit,” you murmur, wiping the sleep from your eyes. You grab your phone and look at the texts and quickly shoot off a reply.

-fell asleep, be down soon-

You gently shake Ash, “Hey they’re waiting on us, we fell asleep.” You wait to see him open his eyes and then you flit off to change into a sundress. “Why is it so hot? It must be cooler outside by now.”

“Open the balcony door,” Ash sleepily replies, peeling himself off the couch. He quickly changes into black jeans and a short sleeve button down.

You throw on sandals and mascara and are ready, quickly, which he appreciates.

Some of your friends trade surprised looks when they see you two peacefully arriving together but none of them comment on it.

You join the group and you all walk together to the restaurant you agreed on for dinner, at the far end of the resort.

Since you and Ash delayed things slightly, the place is crowded and you have to wait by the bar while the staff finds seating to accommodate your large party. Ash volunteers to order drinks for everyone while you wait and you can't decide if it's endearing or annoying that he brings you a vodka soda without you having to tell him what you want.

Once you’re seated, Luke and Sierra voluntarily put space between you and Ashton but he still ends up across from you. You don't mind his presence as much as you thought you would.

The air conditioning appears to be working on this side of the resort, the cold drinks are flowing and you feel yourself truly relax for the first time since you arrived. You even catch yourself laughing at a couple of playfully snarky comments Ash tosses at Luke's expense.

You reach across the table to grab the pitcher of water as you’re all winding down and your arm knocks Cal’s drink, spilling it all over him and Ash. Ash blows his top, going out of his way to make a scene. Everyone tries to move past it but you know all the headway you two had made going into tonight was probably ruined as he refused to let it go, continuing to groan about his wet shirt and jeans.

"If the air hasn't been fixed, our room is probably so hot it'll dry the second we walk in," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is this fucking funny to you?" He sneers, forcefully tossing his napkin on to the table.

“It is kind of funny, Ash,” Cal says, trying to calm the situation down.

“I said I was sorry,” you shrug. “It’s not like I meant to.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he snarls, storming off to the bathroom.

Defeat settles into your features, upset from the interaction, being tired and the ungodly heat you knew you were about to face. “I’m gonna head up to bed,” you announce, kissing Sierra and Crystal on the cheek. You wave at the rest of the group while Luke stands to give you a hug.

You hear Cal’s girlfriend, “That was a little harsh of him.”

“It’s just the way they’ve always been,” he explains quietly.

When you pass by him, Michael stops you and offers to walk you back since it's dark out and a bit of a journey to where your rooms are but you wave him off, you're looking forward to being alone.

Heading out of the restaurant, you cross paths with Ash and his eyes shoot daggers at you but he says nothing. As you push through the door, you hear him loudly complain to nobody in particular, "She gets to run off and act like this is MY fault again?"

You ignore it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Once you get back, you change and pour yourself a vodka soda. The room is still unbearably hot so you lay across the bed checking your phone, and take advantage of the breeze coming through the balcony door.

About 20 minutes later, you're in the bathroom washing your face when you hear the front door slam and Ash barges into the suite like a tornado; he cranks the TV for no apparent reason, bangs around in the fridge and slams some drawers with little regard for who or what he disturbs. You give a silent thanks for the fact that the surrounding rooms all belong to your friends so you don't have to feel embarrassment on top of everything else.

You brace yourself for whatever you're going to encounter on the other side of the door and turn the knob. You immediately stumble on Ash's still damp clothes, which he evidently stripped off as soon as he walked in the room. You roll your eyes but as an act of good faith, pick them up and hang them over the side of the bathtub to dry. You exit the bathroom once more and find him standing in front of the balcony, clad only in his boxer briefs. "How is it still so goddamn hot in here?" He says, exasperated.

“I don’t think they even came to look at the AC,” you observe. “I really am sorry about the drink, Ash,” you murmur at his back. You’re having a hard time tearing your eyes away from his back and thick arms. Your eyes take in the tattoo on the back of his neck. You let out an audible sigh, accidentally.

“Don’t mention it,” he says looking back at you, face red, indicating he was still kind of heated.

"It's just... we had a pretty nice time this afternoon and I was kind of starting to enjoy the peace," you start.

"You know, that's one of the things I've never liked about you?" He says with a calmness that betrays the harshness of his remark. "You're one of those people who can't STAND not being liked by everyone. I feel bad for you." His brow furrows as if in deep thought.

“I don’t need everyone to like me, I just need to know what the fuck I’ve ever done to you, you fuckin fake deep thot. You know everyone sees right through your bullshit? Your fans and your friends, just humor you.”

"You seem to put a lot of stock in what other people think, is all I meant," he says, seemingly unaffected by your words. "And you especially seem to pay a lot of fuckin attention to what people think about me."

“I actually couldn’t give a fuck less what people think about you, but when you parade around like some sort of imbecile, having random people call you ‘daddy’ because wow what a fuckin turn on - girls with daddy issues- it’s fuckin ridiculous, Ashton. You walk around here acting like I have the holier than thou attitude but it’s you thinking you’re some big shot because you have a few gold records. That doesn’t mean shit in Hollywood, every third fucking barista has a gold record and then flopped. Congrats you’re well on your way to being a 4th rate barista, I’m sure your father is so proud.”

Even as it left your mouth, you knew the dad line was too far.

You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, your words hanging in the air. His jaw twitches but doesn't clench. You briefly think to apologize but part of you is still stunned by what you just said and part of you doesn't want to prove his point about caring what he thinks. He considers your statement for a beat more and then finally, he chuckles darkly. He stalks past you without a word and slams the bathroom door.

You stalk toward the bed and grab a pillow to scream into. It’s barely been a full 24 hours and you’re convinced you’ll have the drummer of 5sos dead within another 24. You’re pissed at him for being cocky and hot... wait, what the fuck? You’re pissed at your friends for putting you in this situation.

You forgo the glass and grab the bottle of vodka, setting up on the balcony because at least it’s cooler than the room, and you seethe.

You instinctively start to text Sierra to vent about the incident but ultimately decide you and Ash have done enough damage to everyone's morale for the night. You settle for absentmindedly playing a game on your phone to take your mind off things. You eventually hear Ashton back in the room but you promise yourself you're not going to be the one to apologize first. He has to come to you. And it’s just easier if the two of you let it cool for a minute.

He comes out to the balcony, watching you shotgun straight from the bottle. He drags a chair to the other side of the balcony. “I know you know that was a cunty thing to say,” he says quietly. “You’ve definitely got a way with insults though.”

You don’t respond because you don’t know how, but you exchange a glance in acknowledgment.

You both sit in silence and while the tension between you is thick, you're still able to find comfort in the relatively cool night air and the unspoken truce. You zone out, questioning if this trip is even remotely salvageable and how to proceed with Ashton from here. After a while, you look down at your phone and notice the time, you've been out here longer than you thought. You glance over at Ash, who's scrawling away in some sort of journal, with those goddamn headphones on again.

You stumble over to him and tap what your brain notes is an unreasonable large shoulder, "Hey, 's late."

“Careful, Princess,” he says, pulling his headphones off and resting them on his neck, he checks his phone for the time. “Yeah, it is. Let’s get you to bed.” He breathes, standing quicker than you thought any person should.

He holds your arm, walking you to the bed. You know you’re drunk but you can’t help the words that spill from your lips, “Should stay in tha bed.” You don’t let him go as he gently pulls from your grasp.

“You're drunk and we’re both likely to be pissed in the morning. I’ll get you a water,” he mentions, walking away.

You do everything in your power to stay awake for the 90 seconds he’s away and you latch back onto his larger than normal forearm when he comes back. “Don’t leave me alone,” you whimper.

His gaze focuses on your hand on his arm and then shifts to your face, which he searches carefully. "You're not serious," he declares.

"Bed's closer t’window, can leave it open." You sit up and take a sip from the water he sat on the nightstand. "You'll be more comfortable. No big deal." You shrug and lay back down as if this offer was the most casual conversation you've ever had. To be honest, it probably was one of the more casual conversations the two of you had ever shared.

“I’m not staying because you asked,” he clarifies. “I’m staying because that breeze can’t be beat.”

Ash climbs in the bed in just his underwear and he scoffs a little when you strip off your shorts and tank top, leaving you in a sports bra and panties for bed. “Why are you constantly taking your clothes off in front of me? Sobriety might do you some favors,” he grumbles, getting comfortable on the other side of the bed.

"Doing you a favor by letting you see my bangin' bod," you drunkenly giggle. "And please, I've seen your naked torso more times on this trip than I've seen my own." You blow a raspberry that goes on for a little longer than you intended, given your inebriated state.

“Well you definitely take care of yourself.” He agrees, ignoring your childish behavior.

You plant a pillow between the two of you and turn off the lamp, “Night ‘Shton.” You murmur, cuddling into the bed.

“Night.” He stares at your back in the dark for a while. Not understanding this new feeling creeping up, or caring why the hell you look so good. It’s not the first time he’s seen you like this, but it is the first time he’s wanted your attention.

You wake up a few hours later, dying of thirst. You spot the water on your nightstand and lunge for it a little too quickly and your head starts to spin. As you gulp it down, you remember you invited Ashton to stay with you and your eyes dart to the other side of the bed. The moonlight pouring in from the open balcony shines on his near naked form and it's a sight to behold. You look him up and down, though you're not sure why. You think to yourself how much easier it is to find him attractive when he's not speaking.

You admire him for as long as your drunk brain can handle, before drunkenly texting what you think is just Sierra -he’s pretty when he’s quiet- and you barely put your phone face down on the table before passing back out.

Your drunk brain processes your slight attraction and the fact that you begged for him to stay better than you’d ever let your sober brain and it creates quite the dirty dream about the man sleeping next to you. Your brain reminds you just how much of a man he is and how easily he’d toss you around.

You’re awoken by your own moan and open your eyes to see Ashton staring at you from the next pillow, eyebrow cocked.

"Sleep well, princess?" He smirks.

You shove your pillow over your face, half out of embarrassment, half out of necessity because the sun shining into the room is BRIGHT and your head is pounding. "It's too early and I'm too hungover for you to use that tone of voice with me, Irwin."

“Not very often I have girls moaning in bed before I’ve even touched them,” he says, sounding bemused.

You groan and reach for your phone, closing one eye and turning down the brightness before unlocking it. You realize the text you thought you sent to Sierra also had Luke, Michael and Crystal on it. Luke commented about you getting soft for Ashton, which vaguely enrages you around your headache.

“Not like I’m moaning for you,” you quip, slowly moving toward the bathroom.

Ash is still laying on the bed when you return. “Still fuckin hot,” he grumbles.

Your phone buzzes and you look at it, Luke had forwarded a text from the hotel, - heat warning in place, advising everyone stays inside, hydrated and cooled.-

You throw yourself back on the bed in disbelief. "This can't be happening."

Ash turns on his side to face you, a little closer than you'd like both because of the heat and because of the dream you had. "What's the matter, princess?" He says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Stop calling me princess," you grumble and shove your phone in his face.

“Yeah, I already saw. Don’t worry I plan to escape this room as soon as humanly possible,” he admits. “Just waiting for Cal to get his lazy ass up.”

“Are you ever just like... nice to anyone?” You shove your face back in the pillow. The sun really is too bright and you can’t take it.

"Are you ever just like... not super judgmental?" He mocks, getting out of bed and pulling the curtains shut for you. "I've been pretty nice the past couple nights putting your drunk ass to bed. You thought I was nice enough when you begged me to sleep in your bed."

“I didn’t beg for anything from you. And I’m more than capable of putting my own drunk ass to bed... you just think you’re better than everyone because you got sober when you realized you couldn’t handle your alcohol. Seriously, if the worst fuckin thing I’ve done is offer you a spot In my bed where it’s more comfortable then that’s worlds better than the damage and destruction you’ve undoubtedly caused in your drunk state,” you spew.

"You're unfuckingbelievable, you know that?" He shakes his head. "There's no WAY anything I've ever said to you has warranted some of the shit you've said to me recently. You always gotta take it too far, always gotta get personal. And I’M supposed to be the asshole?"

“Just shut the fuck up, Ash... I can’t. I’m done. I don’t have the energy. This trip was supposed to be relaxing.” You groan, plopping the pillow over your head.

"Cool. Good talk," he says dismissively and heads for the shower.

You stick your middle finger up in the direction he headed off. You sigh loudly when you hear the water turn on. “What the fuck happened,” you ask yourself, exasperated, thinking over the last couple days and how the day before you and Ash had been chill for at least a few hours. “I just need to shut my fucking mouth,” you decide. “The only way to salvage this trip now.”

You must have dozed off again because the next thing you know Ashton is standing over you -shirtless in those athletic shorts again, goddammit- and poking at you with his room keycard. "The fuck?" You say with only moderate interest.

"Oh good, you're up," he jokes. God, he's insufferable. "Cal and I went downstairs and they've closed the restaurant dining rooms but they're still offering room service. I need to know if you want breakfast."

“Yeah... pancakes.” You wave him off. “..Bacon and hash browns...” You murmur out, going back to sleep.

A short while later you wake to the smell of maple syrup. You drag yourself out of bed and follow the scent to where Ash is sat on the couch, already eating, full breakfast spread out on the coffee table. "Gee thanks for letting me know the food was here," you snipe without thinking. Dammit. You've already forgotten your plan to keep your mouth shut.

Luckily, as you've learned is the norm, he's preoccupied with something on his phone. "Uh-huh," is the only response you get.

You grab your plate and get a water out of the fridge and then sit at the end of the coffee table furthest from Ashton.

“I hope it cools down some tomorrow,” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“What was that? Speak up princess,” he says pointedly to you.

“I just said I hope it cools off. So we can go back to the beach tomorrow,” you shrug, digging into your food.

"You mean we all didn't fly all the way over here to sit in our hotel rooms with broken AC?" He mocks for no apparent reason.

You roll your eyes but keep your mouth shut, not looking to give him the benefit of another snarky comeback. You eat as much of your plate as you can manage before heading off to shower. To your slight dismay, he’s still sitting on the couch on his phone when you get done.

“Ash.” You mention quietly, his head tilts up but his eyes don’t leave his phone. “Do you think you could do the aloe again?”

His eyes snap to you and he stares for a minute before nodding. “Uh... yeah,” he agrees.

You grab the bottle and sit next to him as he does your back and your shoulders. “Sorry I always take it too far,” you apologize.

He breathes out forcefully and you can feel it on your neck. It gives you goosebumps. He seems to be choosing his words carefully before landing on "Just seems like you don't think about some of the stuff you spit out in anger." His hands stop working over your skin. "I talk shit and yeah I get you think I'm an asshole, but I have never nor would I ever say anything to you as disrespectful as some of the things you've said to me," he says with a quiet firmness.

You nod, because you know he’s right and you chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment, thinking carefully on your own words.

“I know. I don’t have an excuse. You get under my skin and it’s always guards up with you. Sometimes we’ll be just fine and then you’ll turn on a dime, like last night at dinner. Easier to push you away and keep you at arms length than to let my guard down because I don’t know when you’re gonna snap.”

"Right because this continues to be exclusively my fault," he says condescendingly and sits back on the couch.

You take a few deep breaths and then get up, leaving him to sit while you go change.

You come back out, sports bra and lounge shorts and look at him.

“I’m just trying to be nice. It’s my fault too, I know that. I was explaining why I get that way. I know I’m like that, and I’m working on it. I was just trying to clue you in on a trigger.” You sigh and then head back to the bed, collapsing on it.

He bounds over to you, not ready to let this go. "Sorry to break this deluded narrative you've constructed, princess, but 'I'm only a bitch because you make me one' isn't a trigger, it's an excuse and a weak one at that."

His face is flushing and his chest is bright red. You know he's getting heated and you know it's not just the tropical climate of the room.

"You've been like this with me from the second you met me, it's like you never had any intention of liking me and fuck getting to know me." He raises his voice, "If I'm such a shitty person then why are literally all of your friends friends with me? You ever think about that, sweetheart?"

“Well that's a two way street, Irwin,” you huff out. “You’ve never tried to get to know me either. So before you come over here acting like you’re any better than me, remember when you point a fucking finger there’s three pointing back at you.”

You stand to square off with him, like the fight is going to get physical. You know better than to think Ash would lay a hand on you but you’re prepared for anything in this moment. The blood is rushing in your ears again.

"I never said you were a shitty person," he says lowly, stepping closer to you. "I just said you were a judgemental, inconsiderate hypocrite and I don't like you."

“I’ve never said you were a shitty person either, I just think you’re an asshole with entitlement issues that definitely needs to take a look in a mirror when slinging his insults,” you say quietly, also stepping closer to him.

"Sounds like we have a lot more in common than we realize then," he challenges, staring you down with fire in his eyes.

“Seems like if either of us had taken even five minutes to consider the other, then maybe this all could have been avoided.” You don’t waiver, standing your ground. “And maybe, we could have spared our friends.”

It seems like he's about to move somehow even closer to you but the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table cuts through the tense air. "Finally something we agree on," he mutters under his breath as he stomps away to check it.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You realize it was in anticipation but you don’t know what you were waiting for.

You collapse back on the bed, grabbing for your phone. You make a mental note of how his phone is more important than any person in front of him and you slink back into your normal feelings about him.

A couple hours pass of you dutifully ignoring each other with your phones. But the heat is unrelenting and eventually the scorching sunlight starts pouring in directly onto the bed. Even with the curtains shut, the warmth is sickening and you have no choice but to find another place to relax.

Obviously the balcony is out of the question until the sun sets. You huff to yourself and head for the couch where Ashton is sprawled out.

“Can I sit?” You ask.

“Your space is over there,” he says pointing to the bed. “This is my space and it’s probably best we keep the two separate.”

“It’s too hot over there, even with the curtains closed,” you whine.

“It’s what you wanted,” Ash cocks an eyebrow and doesn’t move a muscle.

"Are you fucking serious, Irwin? You're being a child, just move over."

He looks directly at you and stretches his large frame even further down the length of the couch.

"Sorry, Princess. No room at the inn. Think I saw a cot in the closet."

“Selfish prick.” You mumble, turning to walk away.

But that gets him up. “What’d you just say?” He asks, tone sharp.

“I called you a selfish prick,” you whip around, saying it louder.

"Aww, did Princess get her feelings hurt because someone finally won't cater to her every fuckin whim?"

“Literally nothing about this trip has gone my way. You show up last minute and I have to share my fucking room with you because there’s nowhere else for you to stay? Excuse me for thinking for a minute that you might be fucking polite enough to accommodate me a little. Thankless asshole.”

"Didn't realize you were so affected by the mere presence of me," he says with a dark cockiness. He gets in your face. "And I'm gettin real tired of hearing you call me an asshole, Princess."

“And I’m getting real fucking tired of your condescending ‘Princess’ nickname, so I guess we’re both just fucked here.”

"Ohhh I think the name suits you just fine, Princess." He's impossibly close to you now, practically nose to nose. "Unrealistic expectations for everyone and everything. Particular. Judgy. Demanding. Keep waiting for you to tell me to bow down, Princess.”

“I doubt you're good at anything that’d require you to be on your knees, including bowing down.” Your eyes narrow.

“Shouldn’t I say that to you?” He snorts.

"Well then we'd have to add 'liar' to the list of your many offenses."

“Can’t make claims like that without backing them up.”

You roll your eyes. "Is that the only way to get you to shut the fuck up for once? Figures," you sneer. You involuntarily lick your lips and you regret it the second you do, he definitely notices.

“Blow. Me. Princess.” He enunciates.

You're not sure where this audacity comes from but you grab at his crotch. OH. He's more than half-hard in your hand. Your heart is pounding from what you assumed was anger but you're now realizing may be something else. You lean into his ear, hardening cock still in hand and challenge breathily, "Make me."

He inhales sharply, “Gladly.” He pushes you to your knees, pushing your hand away so he can drop his shorts, he does a couple quick tugs to get himself fully hard before pressing his tip against your lips. “Open.” He quietly demands in a way that says not to fuck with him, so you do what he asks.

He taps his cock up and down, over and over your open lips. You make a point of maintaining direct eye contact with him when you jut out your tongue defiantly, catching on a vein, making him groan.

You grab it from him and he easily lets go, curious of what you’ll do. You lick the underside from base to tip and slowly rub your hand over his length, placing sloppy wet kisses along the shaft to slick him up more.

You start suckling at the head, hoping to coax out some precum and you'd never admit to it but you accidentally let out a small moan when you feel the substance on your tongue. By the way Ash is tangling his hands in your hair, you can tell he's getting impatient. "Figures you'd be a fuckin tease," he critiques.

You slowly lick the tip a few times before taking him in your mouth, hoping it will shut him up. You slowly work your mouth up and down his cock, not really trying to take all of him, but enough to keep him quiet. Your eyes are still locked on his as you palm his balls.

He bites his lip and you wonder if it's because he's trying to hold back a snarky comment or a moan. You wonder why you care. Rather than unpack that thought, you decide to press your luck and take him down further. He's larger than you realized and he hits the back of your throat before you're ready and you gag. He grunts approvingly.

Of course he does, you think to yourself, annoyed.

His hand tightens more in your hair and he pushes you further, silently encouraging you to take his cock in your throat, so you do. He lets out a loud guttural moan.

“If I’d have known the way to shut you up was to put my cock down your throat, we would have done this years ago.” He gently caresses the side of your face.

You wish you didn't lean into his touch but you do. You wish you didn't like the weight of his cock on your tongue as much as you do but that's another thought entirely. You quickly determine you like this experience much more when your mind is quiet so you focus on making him moan loud enough to drown out your thoughts.

You confidently bob your head on his cock with the occasional detour to tongue at his balls. You make sure your methods are as loud and as messy as possible. He's easy to read, you know what he likes without you being told.

Your jaw aches a bit from having your mouth open that wide for him but it’s a minor inconvenience for hearing his moans, tasting him. Shutting him up.

“I was wrong about you,” he murmurs. “You can suck a cock.” He smirks and you flick his thigh.

You give him a good suck just to hear his breath catch before you pull off. "And I was wrong about you," you pant, wiping your mouth sinfully. "Turns out there is one thing about you I don't mind." You flick your tongue over his slit to punctuate your point.

He snorts and looks down at you, yanking your hair so that you meet his gaze. "Tired of you running that goddamn mouth of yours, Princess. Mind if I fuck it?"

“Wish you’d fuck something around here,” you saltily reply.

“I promise I’ll find another wet hole to ruin as well.” He grips your hair in both hands and guides your mouth back on his cock. He gets a couple slow test thrusts in to get you used to it before he starts full force face fucking you. It doesn’t take long for him to grunt and fill your mouth with cum and he holds you on his cock, without being in your throat. “Swallow it,” he demands.

You moan around him and do as he says, though you intentionally let some dribble out of your mouth, mostly to be defiant but also because you think that's something he'd like to see.

“Cheeky little fuck," he murmurs, wiping the cum with his thumb and pushing it into your mouth. “Better than I thought you’d be for a pillow princess.”

“Not at all a pillow princess and you'd better be returning that favor.”

He clicks his tongue and pulls you up off your knees. "There you go with your demands again, Princess," he says, stripping you naked in record time. "But I'll definitely do you a favor, sweetheart. I'll bet you've been dripping for me since you first got those pretty lips around my cock."

“Try when I first got my hand on your cock.”

Ash looks at you, gropes both of your tits and pinches your nipples, pulling them a bit. You let out a little whine and he smirks and drops to his knees, quickly hooking one leg over his shoulder. He flicks his tongue along your clit before licking around your opening. “Very wet... Princess likes to suck cock.”

"I like doing things I'm good at." You hope it comes out as confident as you intended but an accidental whine swallows the last word of your sentence.

Ash pulls his face away and chuckles. He slides his hand up your thigh and lightly rubs your slit with his fingers before applying pressure on your clit. “I’ll give you credit, you were good at it.” He smirks, quickly pushing the two fingers in and then pulling them out with a bit of a twist, at an agonizingly slow pace. He watches your face and feels you get a little wobbly on one leg so he grabs you, pushes you back onto the couch. He wraps his arm around one thigh and pushes your other to spread you. He continues the slow pace with his fingers and rolls his tongue over your clit.

You run your fingers through his hair and breathe deep. You'd be lying if you said he didn't know what he was doing. He catches your clit between his lips and sucks hard. You shudder and tug at his hair harder than you mean to. For a split second you think to apologize but he lets out a groan indicating he didn't mind the pain one bit. He sucks over your clit again and you pull even harder just to hear that noise.

The back and forth continues until he draws out a very loud moan from you. You don’t even think twice about the fact that your friends' rooms are around yours. “Fuck, Ashton, yes!” You whine.

He pulls back to nip and suck marks onto your inner thighs. "That's the most positive thing you've said to me this entire trip, sweetheart, I like it." He lifts your leg and pushes his fingers in as deep as he can. "Princess gonna do me the honor of cumming for me?"

“Please make me cum for you!” It sounds desperate even in your own ears but you can’t seem to care about it.

His smirk is definitely making you more wet at this point and he notices. “So slippery in here. Can't believe I finally found a way to make you agreeable," he taunts, slowly thumbing your clit.

You hate that his cockiness is threatening to send you over the edge at this point. "Ash... God, Ash, please," you plead.

“Alright alright... don’t need you begging me just yet.” He brings his mouth back to your clit and sucks hard so you’ll yank his hair. His fingers are pumping at an ungodly pace.

“Yes fuck right there, like that.”

Your chest is heaving and Ash thinks he likes the view. “Can you be any louder?” He teases.

"Give me a reason and we'll see," you manage to pant out.

He sharply slaps your inner thigh, over one of the marks he'd already left, fingers grazing your pussy as he does. You do indeed, cry out louder.

"Don't get smart with me when I'm about to make you cum, sweetie, you won't like the outcome. I promise you," he warns.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please make me cum,” you whine. “Ashton, please!” The whine is loud and the moan when he goes back in with three fingers is obscene. He pushes you until you fall over the edge, chanting "Ash" and tugging his hair while he slowly licks over your clit.

You whimper and writhe as he expertly works you through your orgasm, easing the curling of his fingers as he feels you finish pulsing around them. He dutifully cleans you with his tongue until you're pushing his head away, too sensitive to take any more stimulation.

He lifts his fingers to your mouth and traces one across your lips, coating them in your juices. You look directly at him as you lick them carefully, groaning at your own taste. You keep the eye contact going as you reach for his hand and draw the rest of his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean.

“Naughty little slut, aren’t you?” He comments, watching in awe. “Be surprised if our friends didn’t just hear that little show.”

“Like I give a flying fuck," you murmur, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

He smiles as he runs his hands over your tits, giving them an appreciative squeeze. "Gotta tell ya, Princess, I'm finding that you're full of surprises."

You sit up and reach for his cock, which you're pleased to find already hard for you again. "Gotta tell ya," you mimic his smarmy cadence. "I'd rather be full of this." You give him a squeeze for emphasis.

He grins and gets in your face. "Greedy too?" He places his hand over yours and you begin slowly stroking him. "My kind of girl." You feel his breath on your face and you wonder if he's finally going to kiss you. You wonder why you want him to.

Instead of waiting on him, you push slightly forward and press your lips to his and the kiss quickly gets deepened.

When you come up for air, he cocks an eyebrow at you, “Couldn’t take anymore of your talking.” You shrug.

He pushes forward and kisses you again. “I want you over the fuckin couch,” he growls. You know he means business, so you quickly turn.

His first priority is to land a hard smack on your ass. You probably should've expected it but you yelp loudly nonetheless. Satisfied with both your reaction and the red mark decorating your ass cheek, he delivers a blow to the other side to match.

“Fuckkk me," you moan, wiggling your ass in front of him.

"Oh is that what you want from me, Princess?" He teases, running his cock over your thighs and ass, everywhere except your throbbing core. You hear a whine you don't recognize escaping your throat when you feel drops of precum drizzling onto your skin.

"Even with my ass in the air for you, you've still gotta talk shit," you groan in frustration.

He slicks the tip through your folds and you press your face against the back of the couch in anticipation. “If you fuck half as good as you lick, I think we can be friends," you smirk.

“All you need to worry about is if you can take my cock.” He lands another smack to your ass.

“My throat took it just fine.” You look over your shoulder and wink at him.

"Alright, alright, that's enough out of you," he starts to push in and you gasp at the feeling. He snorts. "My throat took it just fine," he mocks, sinking in more.

He does a couple shallow thrusts before pushing in further. You push your hips back to meet him, taking his cock all the way.

You moan loudly, “Never been so full in my life.”

Ashton spanks you again, ensuring he's gonna be leaving your ass red and sore. He gives a couple slow thrusts and then stops. “You want this cock, Princess? Get it.” He lands a smack to the other side of your ass.

You take his challenge, finding a rhythm as you throw yourself back on his cock. He watches, fascinated at the sight of his length disappearing inside you again and again. He holds your hips tight enough that you'll undoubtedly have bruises. "You look real good fucking yourself on my cock, Princess," he groans.

“Feels phenomenal," you breathe. You brace your arms on the back of the couch and look back at him while you take his cock. “Fuck yes, Ashton,” you pant.

He takes mercy on you and grips your hips tighter, deciding to take over for you. He pulls one leg up, rests his foot next to your thigh for more leverage and starts to pound into you.

The noises filling the room are obscene: heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin, the slick sounds of your arousal, the endless moans, groans and curses pouring from both your and Ash's mouths.

He pulls you by your hair up against his chest and roughly turns your face so he can sloppily kiss you. He pushes your face away when he's done. "All our friends definitely already heard you cum for me, think this time I can make you scream loud enough the whole floor will hear?"

“I don’t care who hears us at this point, I just need to cum on your cock,” you breathe. “Please," you ask nicely, tossing a smile over your shoulder for him.

The grin that graces his face says it all. He goes harder still. Your quiet whimpers quickly escalate into loud moans of begging.

He smacks your ass a few more times as well as your upper thighs for good measure. He presses into the already forming bruises on your hips. "Pleeease... Ashhh... Fuckkk," you whine, each word at least two syllables longer than usual.

He yanks on your hair and leans in to calmly command, "Cum for me, Princess. Wanna feel you all over my cock."

It sends you over the edge and you lean heavily against the back of the couch while he continues fucking you through your orgasm. His pace increases and then you hear his breath catch and you feel him cum inside you. He stays tucked against you for a minute. He shallow thrusts all the way in once more so you’ll remember how it felt.

“Holy fuck,” you groan.

Ash pets your hair and pulls out. You instantly feel the cum dripping down your thighs. “Don’t move,” he warns. He comes back moments later with a washcloth and cleans you up. You stay in position, panting over the back of the couch because you're unsure if you can even move at this point.

He runs a hand down your back with surprising tenderness. It's then that you realize how goddamn sweaty you are because of course you had to decide to have the most intense fuck of your life in a room that feels like it's on the 4th floor of hell.

"You ok, Princess?" Ash asks, sounding a bit unsure of himself. It's so unlike him. You're kind of into it.

“Yeah… it's just fuckin hot and now I’m fucked out. And I fuckin love it," you mumble against the couch.

“Wanna grab a cool shower... together?” He asks, ready for you to bite sarcasm at him.

“You might have to carry me, legs aren’t working,” you chuckle.

He stands and gestures for you to climb into his arms, "Well then, Princess, your chariot awaits."

You roll your eyes but you notice you don't feel your blood boiling as much as it usually does when he calls you that. You shift on the couch, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he gathers towels and turns on the shower.

Once you’re under the cool water you relax and regain some composure. Ash gently grabs your chin and softly kisses you. “Gonna be honest, that’s not at all what I expected from you," he states and then fits your lips back together.

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? You spend a lot of time wondering what kind of lay I'd be, Irwin?" You tease, softly biting his lip.

“Well no... not really. Maybe a couple masturbatory fantasies about hate fucking you, but you were tied up and gagged for those…" he explains, gently rubbing his soapy hands over your red ass and bruised hips. "Just with who you’ve been to me, I didn’t assume you’d beg to cum on my cock."

You smirk, "Tied up and gagged, huh? Well let's put a pin in that conversation..."

He shakes his head and grins at you.

"To be honest I didn't expect to hear those things come out of my mouth either," you admit, pausing to hiss when his fingers brush over a particularly sore mark. "But to be fair, based on your past behavior I didn't see you as the type to gingerly clean me up after you came inside me."

“I’ve got a thing for after care, not really a 'fuck em and leave em' type of guy,” he shrugs.

“What are our friends gonna say?” You wonder.

“I have no idea but I’m betting both of our phones are buzzing off the hook right now," he laughs.

“No doubt about that... so are we going for round two later or was this a one time thing?” You smile playfully.

He purses his lips as if deeply considering it and you briefly wonder if you'd gotten too comfortable and embarrassed yourself but then he presses you up against the shower wall.

"Like I said before, such a greedy Princess," he teases before crashing his lips into yours with a groan.

After a short makeout, you end your shower and the first thing you both do is go to your phones. Ash snorts. “Cal just sent a bunch of the side eye emojis," he announces.

“Crystal and Mike want to know where I am because something is definitely going on in my room,” you giggle.

You change into your shorts and a fresh bralette and Ash pulls the black athletic shorts back on. He gives you a quick kiss but is interrupted by a knock at your door. He answers it as you settle on the couch.

It’s Luke and Sierra. Luke seems chill but Sierra pushes her way into the room and looks astonished she sees you on the couch.

"Hey sweetie," she greets you with what sounds like surprise in her voice.

"Hey guys," you start but you can tell their attention is focused elsewhere, eyes darting around the room and exchanging wide-eyed glances with each other.

Ash shoots you an amused look but you subtly shake your head at him, waiting to see where this goes.

“Hey… just wanted to check on you guys. There was a lot of noise coming from what we thought was your room.” Sierra looks confused.

“What kind of noise?” You ask.

“Sex noises, moaning, ‘fuck Ashton that’s so good’,” Luke mocks, eyeing the two of you.

Sierra playfully jabs him in his side and he yelps. "Or you know, something like that," he offers half-heartedly.

Ashton, barely keeping in a giggle, says with concern, "Oh I definitely didn't hear anything like that, did you Princess?"

“No... don’t think so, Ash. We’ve just been watching TV,” you explain to the suspicious couple.

“In here? In this room? Together?” Sierra clarifies, so much doubt in her voice and on her face.

“I swear we heard someone moaning Ashton’s name. Asking him to make her cum. Begging, really,” Luke muses with a smirk.

There's another knock on the door and Luke opens it. It's Cal, having walked over from across the hall. “Ok so did you guys hear that too?” He asks.

Luke stands in the doorway discussing the mystery with Cal while Sierra bewilderedly studies your faces.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when you hear Cal thinking out loud, "But how would he get a girl in here without her knowing?"

"No, man, she's been here the whole time."

"The WHOLE time?"

"Apparently."

"Well... I mean… Maybe… No..."

Sierra’s eyes narrow at you, “It was the two of you.” She determines, looking between you and Ashton. “You two hooked up...”

“You said I was crazy for suggesting that!” Luke laughs.

“I didn’t think she’d do it.” Sierra laughs in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

You realize Michael and Crystal must have visited Cal's room to discuss the incident because he shakes his head and announces behind him, "Mike, you were right."

You hear a shout of "Yay! No, wait, ew that's weird. Not yay" mixed with a quieter "Whyyy?" that must've come from Crystal.

You didn't think you were the blushing type but you feel your cheeks getting warmer and you hope everyone will assume it's the heat. But Ash notices and starts waving your friends out of the room, "Ok folks, show's over."

"So we're right then?" Luke teases.

"Get the fuck outta here," Ash playfully shoos him away.

Luke and Cal shuffle out while Sierra turns back and mouths "Oh my God?" at you and mimes for you to text her.

As Ash shuts the door behind them, you flop onto the bed, exhaling loudly. He laughs and climbs on next to you. He kisses your shoulder reassuringly. "You good?"

You turn to face him, "Yeah, they're just. A lot sometimes." He snorts in agreement. "Fuck, they're gonna be so obnoxious about this, what should we do?" You ask, curious for his opinion.

"Well," he starts but then kisses you long enough that you begin to wonder if he forgot he was in the middle of a sentence. He pulls away and looks at you mischievously. "I say we give them about 15 minutes to settle back into their rooms and then we really give them something to talk about."

Tag list: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @therealmrshale @fallfrxmgrace @lukashemmos @justarandomgirlthatyoudontknow @5sos-microwave @madbomb @sweetheartmendes1000 @literally-anythin @lfwallscouldtalk @clemmingstylins0n @ccnicole02 @lustingfor5sos @buteverythingiscopacetic @rosesfromcth @bodaciousbonzi1996 @ashtontotheirwin @captainam-erika-trash @xxgendurvikixx @jazzyangel242 @bluebabycal @rhiannonmichellee @iovehemmings @glitterycalum1205 @katcontreras @cashtonasfuck @ificanthaveu @kindahoping4forever @here-for-the-uproars @canterburyfiction @opheliaaurora @queer-5sos @banditocth @gigglyirwin @glitterycalum1205 @rebelwith0utacause

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

#it's ashton smut #ashton irwin #tropes on tropes on tropes #cass #crystal #friendship 🦦🦦#galaxy brain #idk where this came from #it's a 30 page doc #stay wet #enjoy #this is what we spent all night writing #crystal really is that bitch

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 4 years ago

Note

You are a godsend on this community I swear. Can you rec me any grumpy Derek fics with sterek? Thank you!

Yup.

You Should Be Dancing by all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)

(1/1 I 100 I Teen)

Derek Hale. Dancing. You've gotta be kidding, right?

But, for once, it seems Stiles is not in the joking mood. He wants Derek on the dancefloor, moving. Or maybe he just wants... Derek.

Going on vacation by DearDaisy (Sunsetdaydreams)

(1/1 I 498 I Teen)

For the theme relaxation and the prompt: vacation getaway.

What happens in the shadows by withered

(1/1 I 1,690 I Teen)

When normal people find out about monsters, they don't usually become overnight experts on the occult. In the least surprising plot twist in the history of ever, there's nothing "usual" about Stiles.

There Are Actually THREE WHOLE BEDS by deadicateddeath

(1/1 I 2,081 I Teen)

“Pick a bed, buddy.” Stiles could hardly hide the laugh in his voice.

Work it harder, make it better, do it faster. by DropsOfAddiction

(1/1 I 3,102 I Explicit)

Derek covers Stiles’ mouth with his hand again.

He steps in closer to him and speaks right against Stiles’ ear.

“Stiles, just shut up!” Derek growls.

Stiles licks him for good measure, running his tongue wetly and enthusiastically all over his hand, just to be a dick. Derek let’s him go with a soft growl.

Stiles can smell him and he gets an insane urge to kiss his stupid face.

He hasn’t seen Derek in months; he still can’t really see him technically, just his outline, but boy does he smell good.

Stiles get’s a nose full of leather, lime (Derek’s stupid posh shower gel that he insists on buying) and an underlying fresh scent of the woods.

Stiles desperately tries to think of his Babcia’s fish casserole, custard pudding and for good measure, those weird angler fish he saw on Animal planet.

He tries to think of literally anything in the world that is unsexy because Derek will probably rip his head off if he smells Stiles’ bodily reaction to his close proximity.

All August by suburbanmotel

(1/1 I 6,186 I Mature)

August used to be a sad month for him.

Draw Your Swords by all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)

(1/1 I 7,755 I Explicit)

Derek feigns confusion, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And when did he turn into such an easy liar?

“No, of course you don’t.” Stiles’ sarcasm bites back. “You never do, whenever things between us get… confusing.”

Derek’s chest tightens. He releases Stiles. The kid is absolutely not supposed to be confronting Derek like this, trying to tear down Derek’s carefully constructed walls inside of his own damn home, with… whatever this is. This something between them they're both more than aware of. Is it the real reason Stiles is here?

"Stiles, don't."

Stiles, do.

Derek keeps his distance from Stiles, regardless of how he feels about him. It's better that way. Better for Stiles. But when Stiles has had enough of pretending there's nothing between them, just how much longer can Derek's wolf be tamed?

Double Halinski Trap by lhr111

(6/6 I 30,114 I Explicit)

Not one to avoid poking the bear, “Well Sourwolf, did you miss me?” At this, Isaac, who he hadn’t noticed in the kitchen, spits out a mouthful of beer in an epic cloud of mist looking somewhat scandalized. “Sourwolf?” he chokes out. Stiles gives him a cheeky grin and winks at Derek.

“So, has Derek filled you in on our plan to set our attractive, single, deserving, delightful parents up? AKA, our plans to Parent Trap the shit out of them?” Stiles looks around the room, where Derek seems to be choking on his tongue and the rest of the group are competing to see whose jaw can get closer to the floor. “So, I’m going to take that as a no?”

OR – Where Stiles convinces Derek and gang to help get their parents together, may fall into their own traps along the way, and try to solve a murder.

Nearly Everything Shines by maevewren

(12/12 I 34,796 I Explicit)

Derek is a grumpy Park Ranger, Stiles is a daredevil rock climber. Each of them wants to escape his past, but maybe together they can find a future. Expect lots of cozy autumn feels, snark, major angst, and passion.

The Hale Academy for the Young and Gifted by Staleinskii

(14/14 I 62,831 I Mature)

In a world where the government chooses to hide those with special abilities, dubbed “Uncommons”, teens are forced into special boarding schools designed to help them control such powers. When Stiles Stilinski’s abilities unexpectedly manifest three years later than everyone else’s, he causes a traumatic accident that takes the life of his ex-girlfriend and is thrown into the Hale Academy. The only problem? Stiles is a ticking time bomb and has to keep the true extent of his power hidden around the new friends--and enemies--he makes.

Stiles’s new school brings along many new discoveries, however, including what true friendship looks like, a diabolical plan to overthrow the headmaster, and a brooding shapeshifter that makes him question everything he ever thought about being a straight male.

Welcome to the Hale Academy for the Young and Gifted, where you’ll never know common again.

Wind, Rain, and Sunny Skies by KatieBean

(34/? I 78,276 I Explicit)

Derek is a sad and lonely alpha werewolf without a pack--Peter doesn't count. Then Peter opens his trunk one night and an omega springs free. Everything changes.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #awkward!derek #high school au #Anonymous

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kyber-crystal · 4 years ago

Text

Set Up

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~3.3k

Summary: In which the Avengers are relentless in their attempts to get you and Steve together. If this means going great lengths such as sending you off on a mission-disguised romantic getaway to make you realize your feelings for one another, they’ll seize the chance at the very moment it’s presented to them.

Warnings: None. Just tooth-rotting fluff bc I’ve really been needing it ahaha

A/N: Set in an AU 2017 timeline in which they reunite a year after the whole Accords situation so that everyone’s happy :)

"Rogers. Parasite. Stop watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and get up, you need to get to the meeting room ASAP," Tony stated.

"Says the one who leeches off my granola bar supply," you grumbled as you shot him a death glare. "You've been doing this to me since I was a toddler. A helpless, two-year old against a 16 year-old demon always hungry for everyone's food but his own."

"Still holding the Full House cereal incident against me? Geez, woman, do you ever release your grudges against anyone," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Now come on, let's go."

Exchanging a confused look with Steve, you stood up and followed Tony down the hallway to the meeting room, where Fury was with the rest of the team, waiting.

"Captain Rogers, Agent Y/N," Fury nodded curtly. "I presume you know what's going on?"

"No, sir."

"I need you two to track down a group of mercenaries in downtown Tokyo. You'll be flown out commercially so you can maintain a low profile. The whole process should take no longer than ten days," he explained as Natasha handed him the printed out flight details. "Further information will be given to you upon arrival."

"If it's just the two of us, then why is everyone here?" you pointed out.

"Barton and Maximoff will be checking in with you regularly; and if backup is necessary, I will fly one of them out to meet you. If you don't have any more questions, this meeting is now dismissed. You'll be departing late tonight so if I were you, I'd get to packing right about now."

...

Soon enough you were all packed and ready to go. Because you were too lazy to reach back into your suitcase and grab a sweatshirt, you took Steve's Dodgers hoodie and slipped it on, along with a pair of your favorite sweatpants.

"See you in ten days, okay?" Natasha pulled you in for a tight hug. "Make sure to keep Rogers company, it's a long flight. This is also the perfect opportunity to grow closer...literally."

"Oh shut up, Nat," you scoffed. "We're not...you know."

"Sure you aren't."

"Tony, why don't you get some good rest for once," you turned to your brother, "alright?"

"As long as you admit you're in love with Capsicle," he whispered into your ear.

"I can't admit what's not true."

"Yeah yeah, I can't understand bullshit."

"Tony."

"Y/N," he mocked. "Anyway. Have a safe trip, don't die, yada yada yada."

"Yeah yeah, got it."

A few more rounds of goodbyes later, you and Steve were in the elevator with your luggage, heading down to where Phil was waiting to drive you to the airport.

Your flight was scheduled to take off at 1:45 in the morning, and it was close to 11 p.m when you arrived.

"Your tickets, please," the lady asked as you were about to board the plane. You took them out from your purse and handed them over to her. "Thank you."

"How long's the flight again?"

"Uh...about 14 hours. Pretty long," you replied, as you walked down the aisles, looking at the overhead letters for your seat. "24A, 24B...there we go. Wait, have you been to Japan before?"

"No, I haven't."

"You're gonna love it. They have the best, I tell you, best ramen, and curry, hands down. When Nat, Wanda, and I went on our girls' vacation last spring we wouldn't stop eating for two days straight. I know we're tracking down cold-blooded killers and all, but, it won't hurt to let loose a little, you know?"

"Yeah, definitely," Steve couldn't help but smile at how happy you looked while speaking. "You gotta be our tour guide. I'm trusting you'll lead us to the best ramen hotspots?"

"Oh yeah, I will."

After putting your things into the overhead bins, you settled into your seats. The armrest between you could be lifted convert the seats into a double bed, you quickly found out.

Shortly after taking off you felt yourself grow rather tired. Noticing your sleepiness, Steve raised the armrest and pressed the button to make the seats recline backwards, your head immediately falling against his broad chest. He smiled again, brushing stray hairs away from your forehead before pulling the blanket over your bodies and falling asleep as well.

Little did either one of you know, you were being sent off to Japan for a completely different reason that had absolutely nothing to deal with tracking down mercenaries.

...

The smell of food wakes you up several hours later. You stretched your arms up and ran a hand through your hair as you sat up, adjusting your neck pillow.

"Hey uh, how long were we out for?" you asked, voice still thick with sleep. Steve was already awake, in the middle of watching a movie on his TV.

"4 hours. You knocked out for 5. It's time for lunch...or dinner?"

You tapped your screen a few times to pull up the map of your flight's route. "Right now it's 7:30 p.m. in Tokyo. We're arriving at 4:45 in the morning, so I'd say dinner."

"You sleep okay?"

"Hm? Yeah," you yawned, rubbing your eyes and adjusting the sleeves of Steve's hoodie. "You make a good pillow."

"No problem," he chuckled. You then turned to the flight attendant, who handed you your meals.

"Fancy," you nodded in approval as you passed Steve's tray over to him. "First class sure has its perks...oh yes, miso soup."

You binged your way through several episodes of Pretty Little Liars, I Love Lucy, and Star Wars: A New Hope together. Afterwards, you purchased Wi-Fi so you could update the team on your status.

CHATROOM - AVENGERS ASSEMBLE

Natasha: Morning, lovebirds. You guys in the air already?

You: Yeah, we're eating dinner right now. What time is it back home?

Tony: 6:45 a.m. Pulled an all-nighter binge-watching The Office.

Bucky: Totally worth losing an entire night's worth of good sleep.

Y/N: But I still don't get why we couldn't take the Quinjet?

Steve: ^

Rhodey: Do we tell them now, or wait until they land in Haneda?

Wanda: I'd say now.

Pietro: NO NO NO MAKE IT A SURPRISE

Steve: ...What's going on?

Tony: There's no mission.

Y/N: Wait, what? Then what are we going to Tokyo for?

Tony: I purchased a romantic ten-day vacation package so that you two will hopefully realize your feelings for each other along the way. Thank me later.

Y/N: SCREW YOU

Tony: Enjoy eating all the ramen you want!

Natasha: We're so good at matchmaking.

Thor: May I suggest a virtual high-five?

Peter: VIRTUAL HIGH-FIVE :))

Thor: :))

Y/N has left the chat.

Steve has left the chat.

Tony: They're gonna thank me when they see the penthouse I bought.

Tony has left the chat.

"Well, guess we're going on vacation. At least there's more opportunities to eating good food," Steve shrugged.

"Yup." You felt your heartbeat pick up speed at the thought of being alone with him, for ten days, in a country that was considered both futuristic and romantic at the same time. "Plenty of time to eat ramen and sushi."

Deep down, he was glad that there wasn't any mission. And so were you.

You took an hour-long catnap before waking up again and playing a few rounds of Uno with him, then stayed up for the rest of the flight. You both knew you'd regret doing so because of the 13-hour time difference between NYC and Tokyo, but you were too excited to care at that moment.

You were dazed and still slightly tired when you disembarked the aircraft, so you didn't have any energy to question how you and Steve ended up with your fingers intertwined. Besides, you liked the way it felt.

At close to 5 in the morning, Haneda International was relatively quiet and not too busy, so immigration didn't take long. You didn't have to worry about being bombarded by fans, aside from the occasional foreign fan recognizing you two and asking for a quick autograph or picture.

Since you wanted to explore the airport a bit before taking the train downtown, you looked around at the various shops.

Being a former spy alongside Natasha before joining the Avengers, you were fluent in multiple languages, including Japanese, Russian, French, Spanish, and German. And despite having developed the habit of always preparing for what was to come, you were completely shocked hearing a perfect Japanese sentence roll out of Steve's mouth as he spoke to the cashier.

You practically swooned at how smooth his voice sounded.

"Kore wa ikuradesu ka?" He gestured to one of the kokeshi dolls on display dressed in a sapphire colored kimono with cherry blossom embroidery. (How much is this?)

"3500 yen," the lady replied, "Hatsubai-chū, 3000. Kōnyū shimasu ka?" (On sale, 3000. Would you like to buy it?)

"Hai, kōnyū shimasu." (Yes, I'd like to buy it.)

"Kanojo no tame ni?" (For her?)

"Hai." (Yes.)

She nodded, and Steve handed over several folded bills from his wallet after she finished bagging the item.

"Arigato, gokigen'yō," he thanked her. (Thank you, have a nice day)

"Anata modesu," she smiled warmly. (You too)

"Holy crap, you didn't tell me you were fluent in Japanese, Rogers," you gaped as you walked out of the store together. "When did you have the time to learn it?"

"Back during the Pearl Harbor bombing, Buck and I were sent off with the 107th to Hawaii. Figured it'd be useful if we learned a few phrases."

"Few?" you raised an eyebrow at him. "What you just did back there, that was not just a few phrases! That was fluency!"

"What can I say, I pick up on language quickly," he grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. He then handed you the bag with the doll inside. "Here, for you."

"You didn't have to—"

"Consider it my thank-you in advance for taking me to a good eatery," Steve explained.

After grabbing a quick breakfast of coffee and pastries, you took the elevator down to the train station.

You let out a sigh as you sat down, the cool air inside the train loosening the tension in your shoulders a bit. A short fifteen minutes later and you were back in one of your favorite cities in the world.

Steve took a picture of you as you were distracted from looking all around at the skyscrapers and people milling around, face lit up by all the bright and colorful signs, sending it to the chat.

Steve: Just arrived downtown. Got out of the airport half an hour ago.

Tony: Honeymooning Avengers, how cute

Sam: That's hot.

Steve: What time is it over there?

Wanda: We just finished eating lunch. You?

Steve: 7. Going to check into the penthouse. Talk to you guys later.

Wanda: Alright.

Sam: Have fun, lovebirdssssss

Steve has left the chat.

"So," he breathed out as he slipped his hand back into yours and you exited the station, "you ready to go check out where we're staying?"

"Yeah, definitely. You wanna take the subway again, or a taxi?"

"Subway. Actually..taxi. You sound nice when you speak in a foreign language."

"That's the only reason why you want to take a taxi?"

"Yeah, obviously," you scoffed. "I mean, why else?"

"Alright, if you insist," the super-soldier laughed.

A few minutes later, you'd called a taxi over and climbed into the backseat, strapping your seatbelts on.

"Ohayögozaimasu," (Good morning) the man greeted. "Ogenkidesuka?" (How are you) "Īdesu, anata wa?" Steve replied. (Good, and you?)

"Watashi mo jōzudesu. Doko ni ikitai?" (I am good, too. Where would you like to go?)

You looked at your phone, reading out the address of Tony's penthouse to the driver.

A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke up again. "Watashia wa anata-tachi o shitte imasu. Anata wa abenjãzudesu," the driver smiled, glancing at you two from the rearview mirror. (I know you two. You're the Avengers)

"Watashitachidesu," he returned his friendly grin. (We are!)

"Tōkyō ni kuru kikkake wa nanidesu ka?" (What made you come to Tokyo?)

"Chōdo kyūka no tame." (Just for vacation.)

"Nokori no taizai o o tanoshimi kudasai," he said as you were getting out of the car after paying. "Sayonara."

"Sayonara," you and Steve responded before closing the car door behind you.

"Wow," your jaw dropped as you took the elevator up, arriving at the top floor. "Tony actually bought...this...place?"

"Apparently," Steve shrugged, "we could come back and forth between here and the compound as often as we wanted."

The penthouse had a nice, dark aesthetic feel to it, with giant panoramic views of the entirety of Tokyo and modern furniture and spots of dimmed white lights in the ceiling to give off a relaxed vibe.

After unloading your things, you sat down at the giant couch together and decided to plan out the rest of your day.

"When CoCo Curry opens at 11, we can go eat there," you explained as you typed up the plan in a new note. "Tony also snagged us tickets to Tokyo Tower at 3 p.m, so we have a few hours to spare after lunch."

"We can explore the gardens," he suggested. "I know you love doing that. There's a botanical garden in Shinjuku we can go to."

"Oh, that one! I didn't have the chance to go last time, so that's perfect," you added 'Shinjuku Gardens' to your list.

Soon enough you had your entire day planned out, and were ready to head out once again.

CoCo Curry was a quaint, little restaurant that hit you with a wave of tantalizing scents as soon as you walked through the doors and sat down at the bar-style seating area where you could watch the chefs cook your food.

"Gonichiwa," you greeted the chef standing behind the counter.

"Gonichiwa," he smiled back. He asked for your orders, and since Steve wasn't sure what to get you had two orders of your favorite dish.

Besides another couple sitting a few seats away, the restaurant was empty so you got your food in under ten minutes. The steaming hot plates of curry rice were set in front of you, and you felt your mouth water as you inhaled the rich aroma.

"This is so good," Steve spoke in between bites. "I'm literally in love."

"Told you I knew my stuff."

You eventually finished eating, and after getting into a small argument with Steve over who would pay (He ended up winning). "It's payback for ordering me good eats," he explained.

"You said that when you bought me the kokeshi doll," you pointed out.

"Still."

This time you decided to go by foot instead of taking the taxi, as the gardens were only a half-hour or so walk from where you were.

"Right in the middle of cherry blossom season," you sighed as the sweet smell of cherries drifted through the air. "Perfect timing."

You walked around the entire place, stopping every so often to admire the various colorful plants or look up at the pastel pink cherry blossom trees, gravel crunching underfoot with each step you took.

The mid-April breeze lightly fanned your hair around your shoulders. Birds chirped out a delightful melody, flying around the cornflower-blue sky. It wasn't too hot or too cold, and that was one of the many things you loved about visiting Asia during the springtime; the weather was bearable, compared to New York City's below-freezing temperatures in winter. You vividly remembered visiting the botanical gardens in upstate New York on a school trip once, and from then on you'd grown attached.

In the centre of the garden was a large lake with flowering lily pads and on the other side of the bank stood a quaint little temple, with a wooden bridge across the middle so visitors could cross over and look at the koi below.

"It's beautiful here," Steve commented as you made your way down the sidewalk, "I wish they had places like this back home."

"Yeah it is, isn't it," you breathed out, unable to tear your eyes away from the lovely sights. "I could do this all day."

"Hey, that's my line," he joked. You chuckled quietly, slipping your hand into his. He laced your fingers together in response, and you felt the butterflies flutter around in your stomach again the longer he held on, and those butterflies turned into hummingbirds as you looked up to meet his piercing gaze.

You're not sure how long you stay like that, gazing into each others' eyes, but it's only when a little girl stops and asks to take a picture that you pull away.

"Captain America and Agent Y/N!" Judging by her looks, she seemed like she came from the US as well. "Can I get a picture with you guys?"

"Of course, sweetie," you smiled. You brushed off the weird feeling you got when your skin made contact with Steve's, and gestured for her to come closer.

Steve scooped the girl up into his arms as she held your hand, and the mother snapped a few quick pictures before he let her back down.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed before skipping away.

At 2:20 you decided to leave and head out to the Tokyo Tower early so you would be avoiding any possible long lines. You were up at the observation deck within twenty minutes.

"This is just....wow," you breathed out, in awe of the breathtaking view you got as you stared out the panoramic windows, the reflective walls casting thin rays of light onto your faces.

If you thought the view from your penthouse was nice, this was a hundred times better. You had almost nothing preventing you from being able to see the entire city in all directions. The sun was hanging high in the sky, the skyscrapers piercing the horizon like pins and needles.

Steve couldn't help but let his gaze linger on you, the way your face brightened up at the sight of Tokyo's stunning view, the way you laughed and smiled more than you ever did back home. It was a rare sight, and he wished he could see you in this state more often. Oh, the things he'd do to keep hearing your musical laugh and million-dollar smile.

...

The next day was jam-packed with activities. You took a two hour train ride down south to Osaka, exploring the cup noodles museum, shopping downtown in Dotonbori, and stuffing yourself with delicious pastries along the way. Before you headed back, you decided to stock up on groceries at the local market.

You fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow that night, waking up to somehow finding yourself in Steve’s arms. You both woke up at the same time, confused as to how you had gotten yourselves into this position, but were too embarrassed and tired to ask.

This time, you decided to stay within Tokyo, immersing yourselves in going to as many districts as you could and doing as much as possible.

After a long day exploring the city, you were rather exhausted. With a cup of freshly brewed matcha in hand, you stayed quiet for a while as you soaked in the scenery, watching the city come alive late at night.

When Steve woke up from his nap a few hours later, he found you standing by the window. Smiling to himself, he got up, approaching you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin atop your head.

"Hi," you greeted, setting your mug down on the coffee table besides you.

"Hey," he murmured into your ear. You closed your eyes and hummed quietly in response, letting your bodies rock back and forth to the rhythm of your steady heartbeats together.

"Watashi wa, anata o aishiteimasu," (I love you.)

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Watashi mo anata o aishitemasu, Cap." (I love you too, Cap.)

You stepped away so you could turn around to face him, and he pulled you back towards him and pressed his lips to yours.

He couldn't help but smile into the kiss, pulling you closer against him.

#avengers imagines #steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers one shot #captain america one shot #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction

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theauthorunicorn · 5 years ago

Text

She’s Back Part 2 | Evan Buckley

Read Part 1 here

Prompt: During the operation at the train wreck the reader met Abby and saw her with Evan but she doesn’t know why she’s even back.

“I mean, if I could just take a week off Captain that will be good.” it’s been three days passed since the train incident and I’m just tired ignoring Buck for a while now. He wanted to reason everything out but I think I’m not ready to hear him after knowing that they both met the day after the incident.

“A week off now? Earlier you keep asking me to transfer you to another shift? What’s wrong Y/N?” Bobby asked eyes furrowed.

I sighed in annoyance, “I don’t know, I’m kinda tired and -” I can see Buck in my peripheral vision listening to us, “I wanted to try other things or stuff. I really don’t know Cap and this answer usually could grant a week off though.”

“Who’s having a week off?” Eddie interrupted.

“Me. I’m asking a week off, okay?”

“Why?” he asked confusingly.

“I don’t know or probably I’m gonna fly to Europe and explore somethings or even go to London and see what are they up to.” I told them. I can see Buck’s annoyance in my answers and I don’t care.

“Please, grant me those. I needed this time off.” I begged to Captain Nash.

And oh if you’re wondering by the way the “I need to tell you something” by Buck was never happened because I try my very best not to talk to him or even be at the same room with him.

“I’ll go check if you can Y/N. I’ll let you know after the shift.” Captain Nash assured.

*****

“Thank you so much.” I hugged Bobby as he informed me that I could have five days off and that’s the best that he could do.

It was raining hard as soon as our shift ended and unfortunately my car was still in the shop because of engine problem. I grabbed my umbrella in the locker and booked an Uber home.

“You’re gonna Uber home?” Eddie asked as he passed me.

“Uhm,” I locked my phone, “My car was in shop, engine problems.”

“I could just swing you at your apartment this rain isn’t gonna stop soon.” Eddie offered.

“We live in the opposite side so ‘swing you home’ is not efficient.” I said as I declined his offer.

“Okay, I just want someone to hear this conversation so he could drop you home and talk whatever is going on to both off you.” He winked at me as he walk towards the door.

I checked my Uber and no one has ever picked my booking.

I walk toward the door and thought that it would be a perfect spot to wait for a cab since it’s impossible to get an Uber at this time.

It’s twenty minutes passed and no cab even passed by. I keep myself entertained over my colleagues who will start their shift after us catching up.

Then, a black Jeep stopped in front of us, I sighed to know at that very second who it was. Buck rolled his passenger side window and shouted, “Hey. Y/N it’s impossible to get a cab now, I’ll just drop you home.”

Maria, a friend of ours had this confusion then proceeded to ask me, "Buck is here, I don't know why you're still waiting for a cab? You two are basically a couple without being in a formal relationship?" I rolled my eyes to her.

"Am I right, Buck?" She shouted over Buck even though he didn't know what are we talking about.

He nodded and shouted back at me, "Y/N, get in the car."

"As if I have a choice." I mumbled as I walk over the Jeep.

I said my goodbye to Maria and she's happily teasing the me and Buck. I don't know why people kept seeing us so compatible to each other because right now, I can't even see it.

I stand in passenger side of his Jeep, "Hey, thank you for doing this, I don't even know that you're still in the station at this time." He smiled and God forbid those smiles. "Can you open up the back, I could just sit over there." I pointed it because I'm refusing to seat beside him.

He looked over at his back, "It's kinda messy over there, I got my stuff for the gym earlier. It'll be better if you'll seat over here." He pointed at the passenger side.

"I think I can do that," he smiled again, "I mean, I can sit at the back."

"It's really messy in there Y/N. I wished I cleaned it up before passing you here because I would if I just know that you'll be here. And it's pouring hard so you better get inside." He opened the door and a backed away. I climbed over the passenger side to settle this little argument.

"Where can I put my umbrella? It's literally dripping." I asked him.

He points at his back seat and it's really messy. "Put it in the back."

He started driving away from the station, he offered me a bag of Cheetos and even if I wanted some I declined his offer. Buck started casual talk but it really ends up in my yes, no or maybe.

"Do you still have grocery at your home? Because the last time I was there it was almost empty."

Well, he's not wrong. He spend a night in my apartment four days ago as we watch The Office again.

"I still have some. I'll probably just order a takeaway tonight." I said in a monotone voice.

Then, it's a dead silent. It felt like five minutes before he start speaking again.

"I heard you're gonna have a five day off, where are you going? Are you gonna visit your parents in New York?" He asked as if he dropped a million dollar question.

"No and not to be rude, Buck. It's none of your business." I put my airpods in my ear to shut whatever he's gonna talk.

He sighed deeply as he saw me doing that. I kept my head leaned over the window watching the raindrops race over the end.

*****

He parked his car adjacent to the door, I settled myself before opening it. I put my phone and airpods at my bag, "Thank you so much for driving me home, Buck and I'm sorry that I'm mean earlier I'm just not in the mood."

"It's Evan and it's okay I understand, Y/N."

I opened the door and hop out, "Drive safe." Usually it followed set of words, 'call or text me when you're home.'

And he usually answers, "Yeah, I'll text you when I'm home." and he does this time out of habit even if I didn't ask for it.

*****

I had different shifts from Buck after that day he dropped me home, he also did text me that he arrived home safely that night but I didn't reply, I left him on read. And fun fact I'm flying over London tonight for my mini vacation.

"So, London, huh?" Maria asked me as I settled my things I had the night shift the past few days so I had the chance to hangout with Maria.

"Yeah. It'll be good." I said in British accent. I tied my hair into pony tail before grabbing my things.

"I hope you have a wonderful vacation over there dearie."

"Yeah, I will." I walked over my car unlock it from a far when someone grabbed my free hand.

"Hey, I got you coffee to compensate your all nighter duty." Buck said as he handed me a venti Starbucks cup. "It's Vanilla Latte." He smiled.

"Thank you." I said confusingly. He's acting weird like he normally fo everyday.

"You're welcome and actually if you can remember I want to grab something with you so I can say something to you. Maybe right now, like breakfast?" Buck asked as if we're actually okay and its making me mad.

"No, I have something to do today." I replied plainly.

"Something much more better than me, mmm, Y/N." He said playfully.

"Buck, stop this."

"Evan, call me Evan." He insisted.

"I'll be flying to London tonight and I need to pack up my things, I'm sorry if I can't. And please stop acting that we're okay because we both know that we're not, Buck."

And now, he's totally angry. "I want to talk to you so bad because I want to explain things and after all you're gonna leave like what Abby did to me. It felt like everyone is leaving me, Y/N and you're the last person I expected to do that."

It felt like I'm burning up, I catch my breath before answering him, "I'm not like Abby, Evan. Okay. Don't compare me to her. That's it, get over it. Get over her. Find yourself and I'll go figure out what the hell is happening with me in London. I needed this time off so you don't have the right to tell me those words you said to me."

I opened my car and threw my bag at the back as I settled the coffee in the cup holder. He held the door to keep it open, "I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean it."

*****

I'm at the airport right now waiting my flight to board.

"All passengers from BA 798 bound to London this is your pre-boarding announcement -"

"Y/N!" Someone called my name, panting. I looked around to see Evan catching his breathe. "I'm glad I still catch you here." He hugged me tightly.

"Is everything okay? I mean how can you be at this area if you don't have a ticket." I asked him.

"I bought a ticket for Kansas tonight and I’m not even flying there just to pass through because I need to tell you something before you go." He uttered those familiar words.

"I know I fucked up that I didn't get over to what I felt with Abby because I kept a promise to wait for her but when you came into my life it drifted away but I'm not gonna lie as soon as I saw her that night it all came back even if I didn't want to because I'm finally happy. I saw pain in your eyes when you both saw us and it felt like I personally planted a knife in your heart to have those look in your eyes. I wanted to pause everything at that time to explain things to you but I couldn't they needed our help. Then, the day after the incident you avoided me, I thought it might be a temporary thing but it didn't. Yes, I met her that day also too, so I could settle whatever is left in here for her" he pointed in his heart. "And when you heard that we agreed to see each other that day, I see the pain doubled in your eyes. Abby, went here with his fiance to tell her relatives that they're going to get married in June, I met Sam too, her fiance I actually saved him at the incident, I may be lying if I'll say now that I wasn't hurt when she say that she'll be married but I did a little, then, I think about you Y/N. I think about everything that we had for the past year and especially the last few days before you start ignoring me," he giggled, "it's much more special and wonderful than what I had with Abby and it was so wrong to compare you to her this morning and again, I'm sorry."

"At this time we invite our business class customers to board the aircraft." The boarding gate agent announced and I hesitantly looked at my watch to check what time it is.

"I'm actually called?" I told him.

"Please stay for a while, I'll finish this up in a minute or two." I nodded.

"Because of the situation we didn't actually do as what we planned that night grab a breakfast or something and me telling you something and right now, you're going to London and I couldn't afford to have those five days passed away from you without knowing this, I love you Y/N more than anything. You mean the world to me and if I could just fly with you tonight I would but I can't, Captain said we will be short staffed. So, yeah, I love you and I want to spend my days with you annoying you, loving you and caring for you."

When he finished saying those words, I teared up and hugged him tightly as I savor those words in my head.

"All passengers for BA 798 bound to London kindly board your flight now at gate 22."

"Hey, I think you're being called for your flight."

"They can wait, I'm a business class passenger." I said to him. He laughed as we still hug each other. "And I love you too, Evan."

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venusandromedadjarin · 4 years ago

Text

New Partners

Ch. 1, Mi Cielo

18+, oral! sex, fem! sex, lgbtq reader/oc, language, smoking, canon timeline, 1.3k words

The Texas humidity lingers in your small apartment despite the fact that the sun set hours ago and you undress as the woman from the bar watches you. She sits on your bed, her elbows resting on her jean clad knees as she eyes your breasts, biting her lip. As your dress drops off your hips and slithers to the floor, she flicks two fingers at you, commanding you to join her on the bed, “Ven aquí hermosa.”

Once you’re standing between her knees, she slips her hand up your thigh until she sinks two fingers inside you. The same ones she beckoned to you with. You groan, tangling your fingers into the long hair at the nape of her neck as she bites at your nipple. She picks up the pace, curling her fingers against a spot that is already making your knees weak, her mouth never leaving your breasts. You know there will be bruises tomorrow.

Just when you’re about to cry out her name and beg her to keep going, you realize you don’t even know it. “Fuck,” you moan out, suddenly picturing someone else in front of you with his fingers in your pussy. The mere thought of him rubbing your clit, instead of this random woman from the bar, makes you come undone. You vaguely feel her arm come up and wrap around your waist, supporting you as you sag against her. As you lay back on the bed, head reeling from the orgasm, she undresses and you watch as her nipples perk up as the fabric of her shirt falls aways from them.

She probably doesn’t know my name either, you think before her mouth is on you, licking and biting and pushing you into another orgasm within moments.

The rest of the night fades into late morning as you both cum over and over, but the thought of intense brown eyes never leaves your mind.

————————————-

Javier Peña stands with his hands on his hips in the parking lot, waiting impatiently for his new partner. Well, one of his new partners. All he knows is that the other should be there tomorrow. “Javier?” A tall blonde guy holds out his hand, waiting for the slightly shorter man to shake it. He finally does, putting out his cigarette.

“Javi. I’ll show you around,” he doesn’t wait for the blonde to follow him as he jogs up the steps towards the DEA headquarters. Inside, he leads the other man down some dingy hallways before entering a smoky office. “Murphy, this is Weaver and Wisnicki. These guys are R.I.P. ‘Retired in Place.’”

The stout guy leaning back in his chair looks annoyed, “Eat me, Peña.”

Javi ignores him, “Paid vacation’s over fellas. Murphy and I are going to Medellín. We’ll telex the T-3 reports. They go straight to Washington.”

Murphy catches Wisnicki flip Peña off as he follows him towards their desks but Javier stops as his phone begins to ring, waving the other man forward, “Hola, Peña.” Steve waits a few feet away, anxious to get started but scared to piss his partner off by rushing him. He’s slightly shocked by how still Javi goes as he sits in the edge of the desk, “Y/n? Are you fuc-“ He cuts himself off, looking towards Steve before switching to Spanish and continuing. “Me estás maldito bromeando. No puedes llamarme a mi trabajo después de no hablar conmigo durante meses.”

Steve stares at him, only catching “fuck” somewhere in his rant and suddenly annoyed that the man is obviously going to shut him out. He drowns the rest of the conversation out, making himself busy by studying an evidence board near by. After a few more minutes of hushed arguing, Javi slams his phone down on the desk. He starts walking towards the hallway, pausing briefly for Steve to follow.

“We are going to Medellín?” Javi stares at him like an idiot before ducking into another room.

“Jarheads… this is Murphy. Murphy, this is Mil Group. They advise Colombian military on communist threats in the countryside.” He picks up a folder, thumbing through the papers inside.

“Hey, those are classified,” a guy lurches forward but Javi is quicker.

“Now they’re declassified.”

“That’s the ambassador’s call.”

Javi nods, “No problem,” and moves to hand the folder to the officer before pulling it back and flinging it down on the desk. He motions towards Steve to follow him to what the blonde can only guess is the ambassador’s office.

————————————

You knew the call to Javi wasn’t going to go over wonderfully, but you didn’t expect him to be that pissed. Granted, he was probably still mad you didn’t move with him down to Colombia originally. At the same time, he cheated on you so does he actually have the right to be pissed?

The static that comes out of the radio startles you enough to look up at the clock, “Shit!” You quickly undress while making your way to the bathroom before starting the shower, hissing at the fact the water is still a bit cold when you climb in. Your mind reels from the night before, from the call, from the thoughts surrounding this stupid party Val insists on throwing at the bar. You know your friend means well, but you still can’t bring yourself to be excited. You shave quickly, already planning multiple excuses to use to leave early, the best of which being the 9 hour flight you have in the morning.

The speaker by the door crackles and you rush to buzz Val in, mentally preparing for the inevitable tirade of questions that’s going to follow. Sure enough, she’s bursting through the door a minute later, a mischievous grin on her face.

“Nena! Did you call him?” You laugh a little at her nickname for you, suddenly aware that you don’t know the next time you’ll hear her call you that in person. Waving her back to your room, you walk into the closet as she sits down on the bed.

“It’s why I’m running late. I called,” you let out a low whistle as you dig through your clothes. “He wasn’t happy.”

“Obvio. Y/n, we knew he wouldn’t be. But did you tell him you’re his new partner?”

Your dark haired head peaks around the door frame, a scowl on your face, “Honey, we didn’t even get to that part.” Val rolls her eyes, obviously not surprised. She pushes into the closet with you before grabbing a red dress and holding it to your shoulders.

“This one. Come on, I’ll do your hair,” her voice is a little softer but you can tell she has more to say.

“Val… Am I doing the wrong thing? Accepting this job?”

She looks at you in the mirror as you sit down at the vanity, her gaze sharp. “You’re a DEA agent who is going to help catch Pablo fucking Escobar.” She pauses, brushing your hair as you start applying makeup. “Nena, when you get down there, the Javi stuff will figure itself out. But this is your career. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Claro. You’re right. Fuck him.”

“Maybe don’t fuck him right away.”

The two of you burst into laughter, forgetting for a moment that you’re about to be running headfirst into a literal war. You’d have plenty of time to think about it tomorrow, tonight was about dancing and drinking.

————————————-

As a voice comes over the loudspeaker announcing that your plane is boarding, you glance down at the envelopes under your arm, ready for the long flight ahead of you and the time it’ll provide for you to get acquainted with Steve Murphy’s file. The way the voice echoes through the airport makes you cringe, the hangover lingering longer than you had hoped it would.

Part of you wishes you had gotten to tell Javi, another part of you wonders if the Ambassador told him. She was definitely aware that there was history between you two, and she even asked you about it the last time you spoke on the phone. It was plastered all over both of your files.

Settling into your seat, your nerves get the best of you and make your thoughts spiral even more out of control. It’d be a long 9 hours.

#narcos #narcos fanfiction #Javier Pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x reader insert

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bellemorte180 · 3 years ago

Note

❤️🗣 and 🤝 for the WIP game!!

❤️ Share one of your favorite lines.

Ballad of the Sea: “Then love yourself, because that is the most epic love story that will ever be told.”

Echoes of Sorrow: “That I can’t let grief control me. That the trick isn’t waiting for it to end but learning to live with it, and learning to live despite of it.”

The War of Succession: At least Caroline was thankful Tyler was dead so he did not have to see her treason.

Midnattsol: The man laying before her was her soulmate, someone who should have died a thousand years ago.

I’m sure there are more but those are the ones I can think of the top of my head.

🗣 Share your favorite dialogue exchange.

Demonology: “So Mikael-“

“Is one of the first. He followed my father when he fell from Heaven. I believe my father once said that they had been friends a long time ago; but Mikael has a tendency to believe his own self-importance. He wanted to rule Hell and when it became apparent that was not going to happen, he created his own domain. The garden.” Klaus reached for Caroline, pulling her into an embrace. “Killing Mikael is something only either my father or God can do, and seeing that my father and grandfather are not on speaking terms...”

“I just realized that God is your grandfather.” Caroline muttered, her mind trying to process that information, while Klaus simply chuckled. She buried her face into his chest, trying to process the chaos that has become her life. “So, God is not going to help us out and I can’t believe that was even an option.”

“It’s not but continue.”

“What about your dad? Couldn’t he just be like, Satan and snap his hooves or something?” Caroline asked, causing Klaus to chuckle harder. She felt his chest rumble at her humor. It was insane to her that she had feelings for the man who called the literal devil, father. When Caroline had dreamed about the man, she would one day spend her life with, Klaus was nothing like she had dreamed, but so much better. “Can’t he do something?”

“In theory? Yes. But he won’t. I asked.” Klaus replied bitterly, clearly not happy with his father’s response. “He likes you yes and wants me happy but feels that my mark is enough to keep you safe. He is not about to kill a demon simply because I asked him too. Mikael is banished to his domain for the majority of the time. You will be safe. Then, one day when I rule over Hell, Mikael will never be a problem again.”

Wanderlust:

“I studied men like you and I realize that you’re as complex as I once thought.” Klaus muttered, a deep sigh escaping his lips. He leaned back into his uncomfortable chair and turned his ring absentmindedly on his finger. Mikeal zoned in on his finger and for a moment Klaus panicked. All the horrible things Mikael could do to his wife flowed through his mind but then he realized that Mikael couldn’t touch her. Two decades in a maximum security prison, wasting away stripped Miakel of any power he had. Once a member of a powerful and old family in England turned into something only few remembered.

“Get to the point. You’re wasting my time, boy.”

“Why? Got somewhere to be?” Klaus laughed, shaking his head. The slow realization that he never needed to come here at all; closure was something he had already found at some point along the journey of his life. “My wife is pregnant. It was a shock for the both of us. We weren’t trying because we had just gotten married. Although the honeymoon probably had something to do with that.”

A small smile crept onto his lips as he remembered the nights they spent in Paris just days after they had taken their vows. They rarely left the room, having spent several vacations together both before and after her move to London. Neither were concerned about Paris or the lights or the tower that tourists flocked too. All that mattered to them was spending time in each other's arms, and building a life together; leaving behind all the darkness Mystic Falls had brought them.

“I found myself in a state of shock. We had discussed children, of course, and we knew we wanted them, just not so soon.” Klaus thought back to the moment he held that small stick in his hand, the word pregnant written in blue words. The shock radiated through his body, making him still until that joyful smile crossed his lips. His wife’s laughter still rang in his ears as he took her into his arms. “And then came the fear. Like it or not you are the only father figure I have ever known. For the first fifteen years of my life, I thought you were my father.”

“And I thought you were my son. A relief to know that a failure such as yourself could never belong to me.” Mikael slurred and Klaus rolled his eyes, a habit he picked up from his wife. Hearing those words spoken across the courtroom stung, especially since his mother’s murder was so fresh in his mind. “You wanted to know if you’re going to be a father like me but you’re weak. You’ll fail as a father. Just like everything else. You will fail.”

“No. I’m not. I’m not weak or a failure. I’ve become a man that I’m proud of and you have yourself to thank for that. For a long time I thought I needed your approval but not now. No, I’m going to be a better father than you, but then again that is not a high bar to reach. You see, if anyone is weak it's you.” Mikael scowled at him and moved to speak but Klaus cut him off. “You beat your wife in order to feel powerful. You murdered her in a blind rage because she betrayed you. You tried to kill me simply because I represented that betrayal. If anyone is weak, it's you. Real men do not hit those they love, no matter what they’ve done.”

🤝 Share a line that introduces a character.

Caroline in Wonderland:

“ Enough!” A new voice sounded around them, sharp like a clap of lightning and loud as rolling thunder. Caroline whipped her head around and saw a tall man standing under a green archway on the other side of the chess board. He wore a navy blue suit that had silver buttons that gleamed in the sun. A top hat was perched on his head and a thunderous look appeared on his face. His eyes flickered towards Caroline but focused on both Rebekah and Freya.

Caroline knew who this man was.

It was Klaus.

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] Also on AO3

Chapter 20: Jon Prime

Jon had been worried, before they had come back in time, about how well he would adjust to being in the past, pre-Apocalypse. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle the lessened level of terror, or the need to eat and sleep completely again, or being, essentially, less than he’d been, or for that matter the urge to storm the Institute and throttle Jonah Magnus in his office. He’d fretted about a lot of things.

As it turned out, none of them were things he needed to fret about.

His body reacclimated to human needs quickly enough, and it actually felt kind of good to feel the rumble of hunger or the drag of exhaustion again. It was definitely good to get back to cooking, which he’d sorely missed doing even if it felt odd to be cooking for more than himself and Martin. Martin had been right about his statement fueling Jon for a while, and his younger counterpart had taken to bringing home any real statements he came across; it was enough. And with Martin there, he didn’t feel less.

As for storming the Institute, that urge had been surprisingly easy to resist. Tim had managed to convince them to stay at his house longer by asking them to keep an eye on Past Martin while he healed. His excuse had been that Jon knew what Past Martin was going through and Martin knew what his past self was like, so they could keep him from doing anything stupid. Jon guessed there was more to it than that, but he didn’t want to pry into anyone’s minds, so he just let it go and agreed. It seemed simpler.

Martin had adapted well, too. Granted, he’d still been human—as far as Jon knew—before they came back, and he’d had two weeks to adjust to being blind before they were reunited, but he’d picked up on the cane Tim bought him fairly quickly. He didn’t seem to need it around the house, though, and when Jon questioned him about that, Martin said that he had a pretty good sense of direction when the world makes sense, Jon. And, honestly, Jon couldn’t argue with that. Tim spent a Sunday afternoon reorganizing his cupboards, then showed Martin where everything was so he could feel more independent in the kitchen while Jon watched from the doorway with a grin.

Past Martin got stronger by the day. At first, he mostly slept, which was fine with Jon, since it meant he could spend time with Martin and not feel guilty. He’d accidentally fallen asleep with his head on Martin’s lap one afternoon and woken to soft laughter, which is how he found out that Past Martin and Past Jon had apparently discussed things and Sasha was the only member of what Tim insisted on referring to as Team Archives who didn’t know they were together. After that, they’d dropped the pretense and just been themselves. It had been a huge relief to Jon. It had also been a relief—and a surprise—that Tim didn’t tease them mercilessly, but when he mentioned that to Martin, Martin just laughed and shook his head.

They’d all fallen into an easy domesticity. It was honestly the most surreal thing Jon had experienced in probably his entire life. Sasha and Past Jon were still staying with Tim—Jon had no idea what argument Tim had used on them, but it seemed to be working—and Jon delighted in watching the three of them, together with Past Martin, draw closer together into a cohesive unit that would be harder for Jonah to manipulate. Often, he would come out of the spare room from recording a statement, tape recorder in hand, to find them sharing stories or playing games and laughing. Some nights he joined in on the games, too, but mostly he just sat back with Martin and watched, grinning.

There were arguments. Of course there were arguments. They were all human beings with their own personalities and quirks. Nothing was going to be perfect harmony. Thankfully, they were usually made up fairly quickly. It felt like home, in a way, something Jon hadn’t experienced in he didn’t know how long. He knew it couldn’t last, but he was determined to enjoy it while he could.

Several weeks passed like that. Jon could see the signs that Past Martin was getting restless and impatient to be back at work—he listened hungrily to the team’s tales of what they’d been up to, ventured tentative suggestions on avenues of research or possible connections they might have missed—but he was, ultimately, a far better patient than Jon had been. Not that that was difficult.

As Past Martin’s recovery progressed, the three of them began taking walks in the afternoon, Jon letting the two Martins go ahead of him and following just behind. Partly it was that there really wasn’t room for them to walk three abreast, but mostly it was him giving them the opportunity to see what they were capable of on their own while he watched their backs, literally. At first they were slow circuits of a single block, and then Past Martin needed to sit down for quite a while, but within a couple of weeks he was walking easily and seemed almost back to normal. The scars healed better than they had for Jon, partly because Martin’s skin was fairer than Jon’s but mostly because Past Martin was better about both following doctor’s orders and not picking at the healing wounds. Tim’s had healed about the same, Jon remembered, a thought which still sent a lance of melancholy through him. And finally, the day came when he returned triumphantly from a check-up with the news that he’d been cleared to return to work that Monday.

“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Past Jon said sincerely, actually smiling in a way Jon couldn’t remember smiling until the too-brief time he and Martin had had in Scotland. “It’s all kind of…I won’t lie, it’s odd to sit around and keep working like nothing has changed. Like we don’t know what’s going on. But we’ve managed. There’s a lot more than can be easily done with three, though.”

“I’ll do whatever you need,” Past Martin promised. “God, it’ll feel good to get back into things.”

“Kind of surprised you didn’t try to get us to let you come back earlier, actually,” Tim teased him. “Don’t think none of us saw you chomping at the bit.”

Past Martin gestured to Jon and Martin. “They wouldn’t let me bring it up.”

“How long did you wait before going back?” Past Jon asked.

Jon grimaced. “A month. I should have stayed out longer, to be honest, and I ended up needing substantial physical therapy. But I was already obsessing over who killed Gertrude Robinson, and I didn’t handle being alone with my thoughts very well. Tim was out longer.”

“How long?” Tim asked curiously.

“Eight weeks, give or take.”

“So we can be away from the Institute? I thought you said…” Tim trailed off.

Jon paused, knife suspended over the cutting board. “I—I never thought of that. God, how did I not think of that? Our Tim seemed fine when he first came back, and he never said anything, but…”

“You can be away from the Institute, just not for good,” Martin said. “When you’re out…convalescing, that’s one thing. Even if you’re on an extended vacation, that should be okay. It’s if you try to leave, if you just up and walk away with the idea that you won’t be back, that you’ll have problems. As long as you really intend to come back at some point, it’s fine.”

Jon turned around and stared at Martin. “How long have you known that?”

“Since Elias told us we were trapped there?”

“My God, that was…” Jon rubbed his temple with his free hand. “Why didn’t you say anything? And please don’t say ‘it never really came up.’”

Martin actually smiled at that. “Honestly, Jon, I assumed you knew. I mean, you were away for ages, and I know Basira kept going off on…excursions. She might not have been gone long, but I just…I thought you’d figured it out. Especially when nothing really happened to us in Scotland.”

Jon hadn’t thought about that, either. But yes, at the time they had meant to go back to the Institute eventually, hadn’t they? Or maybe the Eye had let them go because it knew what Jonah was plotting. Either way, Martin was right, he really ought to have figured that out sooner.

He sighed, turning back to his meal prep. “I can, as we have established, be a bit oblivious at times.”

Sasha gave an overly-dramatic gasp. “You? Never.”

“Oh, shut up,” Past Jon grumbled.

Tim snickered. “Hey, does that mean you two have to come back to the Institute, too?”

“That’s…more complicated.” Jon scraped the contents of the cutting board into the pot. “I’m bound closely enough to the Eye that I’m not…dependent on the Institute, I don’t think? As long as I’m taking statements, feeding the Eye, I’m fine. I believe. And Martin is cut off from the Eye entirely. But it’s a rather moot point, as we intend to move into the tunnels beneath the Institute anyway.”

“You can’t seriously be planning to do that,” Tim protested. “Come on, they can’t be comfortable—”

“They aren’t. But that’s not the point, Tim.” Jon sighed and reached for the spices he’d selected. “We are putting you in very real danger by being here. Besides, we’re not in a position to assist like we would be if we were closer to the Institute. I don’t particularly like them, but it’s the best option for everyone.”

Tim reached past Jon to get plates out of the cupboard, his expression mulish. Jon braced himself for whatever arguments Tim might throw his way and resolutely shut his mind against prying for it, but before he could say anything, Past Martin came up and put a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“You can’t fix everything, Tim,” he said quietly. “And I know that’s rich, coming from me, but…we have to trust them. It’s not like we won’t ever see them again if they’re not living under your roof.”

Tim’s shoulders slumped. Jon caught his eye and offered him a smile. “It’s certainly no reflection on you, Tim. It’s just…we need to do this. I desperately need you to trust us.”

“I can give you that.” Tim managed a smile in reply, then turned to set the table. “You’re not planning to move in tonight, though, right?”

Jon was about to answer, then froze as a rumble of thunder sounded from outside. It was low and gentle, but the sound sent a shudder of horror running down his spine that he couldn’t explain. He had to stand, perfectly still, until the sound stopped.

“No,” he said as soon as he felt able. “Not tonight.”

He went back to what he was doing, or tried to, but there was obviously a storm building, and the next peal of thunder brought his breath up short. The spoon slipped out of his hand and into the pot.

“Are you okay?” Sasha’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way away.

“Fine,” Jon lied automatically. Really, this was ridiculous. There was no reason for this. Thunderstorms had never bothered him before; why were they suddenly an issue now? He retrieved the spoon and returned to cooking.

The others shifted the discussion to the logistics of smuggling Jon and Martin into the Institute and the tunnels beneath them without being spotted. Since Martin was already explaining about the other entrances, Jon didn’t feel the need to jump in. They would still need to figure out which entrance to use, or find one in the first place, and how to get there surreptitiously, but at least there were options beyond “hope to avoid the cameras mounted around the Institute when sneaking into the Archives and subsequently into the tunnels”. That would be the fastest way to tip Jonah off that something was going on.

Another roll of thunder sounded from almost directly overhead—not a sharp crack, but a long, rumbling bass growl. Jon felt it to his core, and he gasped, leaning over to catch himself against the counter. Suddenly he was in the spare room in the cabin in Scotland, the words being torn from his throat against his will: I…OPEN…THE DOOR!

“Whoa!” someone shouted.

“Shit, that’s—how is he—” someone else stammered.

“Get his hand off the burner!”

“Jon! Jon, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here.”

Something brushed against him, and he jerked away, but then a hand wrapped around his arm and tugged him away from the counter, and then someone was wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. There was a confused babble of voices around him, but Jon couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t focus on anything but the thunder and the static filling his mind and the fact that for some reason his hand hurt, why did his hand hurt…

“Jon,” the voice said again in his ear, and it was Martin’s voice, he sounded upset, he sounded scared, and Jon couldn’t let him be scared but didn’t know how to fix it, so he looked up desperately and saw Martin’s face close to his. “Come on, let’s go in the other room, it’s okay. Come on, I’ve got you. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Jon couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. He just let Martin lead him out of the room they were in and into another, keeping his eyes fixed on Martin the whole time, and then they were sitting on something and Martin pulled Jon into his arms, onto his lap, and wrapped him up securely. One hand came up to cup the back of his head, the other rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

“I’m here, Jon,” Martin murmured, his voice low and gentle despite crackling with emotion. “You’re here. We’re both here and we’re safe. We’re in London. The world isn’t ending, Jon. You didn’t end the world. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

How, the small part of Jon that wasn’t numb with terror thought, did Martin always seem to know the right thing to say? It was a ridiculous thought, of course; Martin didn’t always know the right thing to say, any more than Jon did, and they’d had more than a few arguments over one of them saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. But when it was a situation like this, when Jon panicked or got lost in his own head or was hurting, Martin always seemed to come up with the right words. Jon fisted his hands into Martin’s shirt and buried his face in his chest, focusing on the heartbeat that always soothed him when things got too bad. One of his hands, in a distant way, hurt, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

Of course the world wasn’t ending. It couldn’t be. How could the world end with Martin there? That was just ridiculous. If the world ended, he’d be all alone.

“You’re not alone, Jon,” Martin said, and shit, had he said that out loud? “I’m here. I will always be here. I won’t ever leave you. I promise. I’m here. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” Jon whispered. The words felt raw in his throat, but it felt good to say them. He whispered them again and again, and Martin whispered them back to him. They passed the words back and forth, you’re here, I’m here, you’re here, and slowly, slowly, Jon felt the terror recede.

The storm didn’t lessen. If anything, it got worse, but oddly, that helped, too. The sharper the thunder got, the calmer Jon grew. A mighty thunderclap rattled the windows, and the power went out, making someone yelp from the other room, but Jon was able to take his first full breath. He slowly eased his grip on Martin’s shirt and sagged against him with a heavy sigh.

“Better?” Martin asked, rubbing his back.

“A little.” Jon tilted his head back and rested his chin on Martin’s chest, looking up at him. There was only the barest amount of light in the room, but it was enough to see the outline of his boyfriend’s face by. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Martin pressed a light kiss to Jon’s forehead. “How’s your hand?”

“Hmm?” Jon became aware that his hand still hurt a lot. He eased it away from Martin and stared at it. It was red, almost raw, and he could see a couple of blisters on the palm that had miraculously remained intact, despite the grip he’d had on Martin’s shirt. “Oh. I—did I put it on the stove?”

“Apparently. Let me see.”

Jon managed a smile. He turned his hand over, palm up, and laid it in Martin’s. Martin hovered his thumb just over the top of Jon’s palm. “It’s still warm. Hold on, let me go find out what Tim’s got in that medicine cabinet of his.”

“Plenty,” a voice said from the doorway. Jon started, then relaxed when he realized it was his own voice, and that was still weird to hear. He looked up to see Past Jon coming in, a torch in one hand and a small handful of supplies in the other. “I was going to just leave it on the table for you, but…”

“Thank you,” Jon said sincerely. He didn’t leave the comfort of Martin’s embrace, though. The panic had left him a bit shaky and he wasn’t sure he could really sit up on his own, but more than that, he honestly didn’t give a damn if it made him look weak to lean on Martin. That was part of what love was, right?

Past Jon set the things in his hands on the table, then lined them up. “Cool compress, lotion, gauze, bandages. Paracetamol on the end if you need it for the pain. I—do you need a spare hand?”

“We’ve got it, but thank you,” Martin said. He picked up the compress, then pressed it gently to Jon’s hand. It was obvious he’d done this before, in some capacity.

Past Jon nodded and straightened, then hesitated before leaving the room. Awkwardly, he asked, “Can I…are you sure you’re okay? That looked a lot like, well, a panic attack.”

“It was,” Jon said softly. He hesitated, looking up into Martin’s eyes. Even though he knew Martin wasn’t really looking back at him per se, that he couldn’t actually see him, he could feel his attention, and they’d learned in the last few weeks that they knew each other well enough that they could still communicate wordlessly, to an extent. Turning back to his past self, he explained, “It was—the last thunderstorm I remember came up while I was reading…Jonah’s monologue.”

Past Jon flinched. “Ah. Well, I’ll, erm…I’ll leave you to that, then.” He gestured at the supplies and retreated back to the kitchen.

Jon and Martin sat in silence for a long moment. Martin kept applying pressure to the compress on Jon’s hand, his other hand securely supporting it, keeping it elevated. At last, Jon said, “I—I never asked if it was actually storming. That day. If it was…real thunder I heard or if it was just…the impending end of the world.”

“It was. I was on my way back. At first I thought I’d grab an umbrella, but then I thought…I thought I’d just stay downstairs until you finished your statement, then bring you a cup of tea or something. And then…” Martin trailed off and shook his head.

Jon bit his lip. “At least you made it back before…the Door Opened.”

“No, Jon,” Martin said softly. “I didn’t. I was still a good five minutes’ walk from the safe house when it happened.” He tried to laugh. “Ordinarily, anyway. I ran, as soon as I realized…I don’t know that I realized what exactly was going on, but I knew it was bad, and I knew that it was probably coming after you.”

“My God, Martin.” Horror ran through Jon’s body, and he reached out with his free hand to grip Martin’s shirt again.

“Hey, careful, I need room to work.”

“You were outside when—you c-could have been killed. God, I could have lost you and—”

“But you didn’t,” Martin reminded him. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Jon’s for a moment. “I’m here, Jon. You’re here. We’re both here. We survived the end of the world. We made it. Together.”

Jon took a deep, steadying breath. “Maybe one day it won’t be so hard to remember that.”

“Well, I’ll always be here to remind you.” Martin straightened up and lifted the compress, then checked the heat of his palm and set the compress aside.

Jon glanced at the next item on the table and grimaced. “Of course the next step is lotion.”

“Do you want to do it yourself?” Martin asked. “You’ve got to keep things from drying out, but…I understand if someone else rubbing it in might be a bit much.”

At least that was something Jon had known he had an issue with before. Just not something he’d thought he would ever have to think about. He started to say yes, then shook his head, despite knowing Martin couldn’t see him. “No. No, will—will you do it? Please? I trust you.”

Martin’s face softened. They both knew what Jon was asking for. “Of course, Jon.”

He poured a little bit of the lotion into Jon’s hand. Jon tried hard not to flinch at the feel of it pooling into his cupped palm. Martin replaced the cap and set the bottle back on the table, nearly missing it, then took Jon’s hand and began gently massaging the lotion into it. Jon focused on Martin’s face and tried to regulate his breathing.

“Tell me something,” Martin requested abruptly.

Jon cocked his head, slightly off-balance. “What?”

“Anything. Your favorite play, your earliest childhood memory, your most embarrassing uni story. Anything.”

“O-oh, okay,” Jon said, surprised. He tried to think for a moment. “Ah—I’ve always been fond of The Duchess of Padua.”

Martin smiled encouragingly. “Yeah? I don’t know that one. Tell me about it.”

Jon launched into an explanation of the plot. The more into it he got, the more wildly he gesticulated with the hand Martin wasn’t attending to. Martin listened to Jon ramble the way he always did, with a smile and a look of genuine interest as Jon went on about a topic he knew nothing about and honestly didn’t care all that much about. He’d even told Jon, simultaneously not long ago and an eternity ago, that he’d always hated the theater, yet here he was letting Jon describe in technical detail the plot of a play he’d had no good reason to fall in love with.

“—staged very often, or studied for that matter, but I always thought it was fascinating,” he concluded with a sigh. “I actually rose a bit in a professor’s esteem because I used that one as the basis for our term paper on one of Wilde’s works rather than The Importance of Being Ernest or The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes. Best grade I ever got in school was on a paper I wrote on The Ballad of Reading Gaol.” Martin set something on the coffee table. “How’s that?”

“I—” Jon looked down at his hand. The lights were still out, but his eyes had adjusted, and he could see the stark white bandage looped neatly around his hand, securing the gauze without being too tight. “Oh. You’re done.” He gave his boyfriend a slightly accusing look. “You were distracting me.”

“You were panicking,” Martin told him. He wrapped both arms around Jon again. “I really was listening, though. I love listening to you talk about something you know a lot about. Or even something you’re just pretending you know a lot about.”

“Hey,” Jon protested, but without any real heat. He tucked his head into the crook of Martin’s neck and sighed, curling into him. “Thank you. For taking care of me. For knowing me so well. For being here.”

“Where else would I be?” Martin kissed the crown of his head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

How many times had they passed those words back and forth, Jon wondered? He could probably Know the exact number, with a little effort, but it didn’t matter, because it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. They could say it with every breath they had left from now until the end of time, and it still wouldn’t be enough. Jon had made a vow, kneeling in the remains of what had once been his boss’s office and pressing futilely against the gaping wounds in Martin’s chest, that he would never leave an opportunity to say them unsaid. They didn’t need to say it for each other to know, but it was important to Jon that they did. And while Martin never said as much, Jon knew it reassured him to hear confirmation every once in a while.

They sat in silence for a while, Jon letting Martin’s presence and the secure feel of his embrace soothe away the last of his lingering terror, or at least his lingering immediate terror. The fear would never go away completely. He’d grown to accept that. But at least now it was just the usual hum of background terror that was his everyday life, rather than the sharp, immediate panic of a flashback. Here with Martin, he was as safe as he ever could be.

At last, he sighed. “We should probably go back into the other room before the others eat everything.”

“I’m sure they saved us some,” Martin said. “But sure. You’ll have to get up first.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sitting on my lap, Jon.”

“Oh. Right. I knew that.” Jon managed to get to his feet. Martin chuckled as he stood, too.

Tim had lit several candles and was apparently mid-debate with Sasha over whether or not he should add another one to the mix. Past Jon rolled his eyes in Jon and Martin’s direction when they came in. “Please make them shut up.”

“Impossible, I’m afraid. They’re both breathing,” Jon said dryly. Tim snorted and Sasha stuck her tongue out at him. “It smells good in here. Have you been baking?”

“Electric oven. Jon barely finished cooking dinner before the power went out. It’s the candles,” Tim admitted. “One of the kids in the neighborhood keeps selling them to raise money for school trips and the like, and I’m apparently one of his best customers.”

“Well, if you add any more, the smell might be overpowering. Or you might set off your smoke detector.”

“Point. Okay, then, sit down and eat. We saved you a couple plates.”

Jon didn’t have to look at Martin to see the I-told-you-so look on his face.

As they ate, Sasha slid a piece of paper towards him, covered in neat, still-unfamiliar handwriting that Jon presumed to be hers. “Can you think of anything on here we missed?”

The lighting wasn’t really adequate to read the paper clearly, and Jon was tired, despite Martin’s presence and support; the panic attack had drained him a bit more than he’d expected. He was going to need something stronger than a couple of old statements to recover, but he had no idea how to go out and get it. It all combined to make him forget himself a little. He reached out with the Eye rather than his own eyes to skim the paper. Sleeping mats, camp stoved, tinned food (ANYTHING but peaches)…

“What’s all this?” he asked, picking it up to see a bit better.

“Supplies,” Past Jon said brusquely. “You didn’t think we’d make you stay in those tunnels without some way of being comfortable, did you?”

Actually, Jon hadn’t thought about it. He picked up the list and studied it more closely, with his actual vision this time. It seemed like a fairly comprehensive list. There were a few things on it that he recognized as bearing his boyfriend’s hallmark, unexpected items that nevertheless might, in certain circumstances, make a huge difference. He angled the paper towards Martin. “Anything you have to add?”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Unless that’s written in Braille, I don’t think I’m going to be of much use there.”

“Oh. Right.” Jon was thankful that the combination of his complexion and the low light in the room would probably hide his blush from anyone whose eyes still functioned.

Tim looked back and forth between the two Martins. “Wait, you know Braille?”

Past Martin ducked his head, looking mortified. Martin, however, simply nodded slowly. “Mum had one of those pill keepers, you know the ones. I taught myself Braille so I could know which pills to get ready for her without turning on the light before she was ready to be awake.”

The look on both Tim and Past Jon’s faces made Jon slightly glad, and also slightly disappointed, that Martin’s mother was dead. Then he remembered that she’d died while he was in his coma, so she was currently still alive in a nursing home in Devon refusing her son’s visits but accepting, even demanding, his money, and it was very difficult for him to swallow his own anger and uncharitable thoughts. He wasn’t a monster and couldn’t act like one, no matter how good his motives seemed.

Instead, he covered the moment by reading the list aloud to Martin. Martin listened and nodded and smiled when Jon hit the last item on the list. “I don’t think you need to worry about a tape recorder, honestly. They turn up on their own.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Tim said dryly. “But you said the tunnels blocked stuff at times. I figured, just in case…”

“Might be a comfort,” Past Martin suggested softly. It was the first thing he’d said since Jon and Martin had come into the kitchen.

“The tunnels don’t stop the recorders,” Jon said. “But…thank you. It’s thoughtful of you.”

Sasha nodded and took the list. “We’ll get everything together tomorrow, then, and you can find another entrance to the tunnels.”

“Will you be able to find the Archives?” Tim asked. “Through those tunnels, I mean? They’re a mess, honestly.”

“We’ll manage.” Jon actually wasn’t a hundred percent sure how easy it would be. He’d had a map made at one point, but that was after Leitner had manipulated things for him, and the tunnels were shielded from the Eye, somehow. He’d be lucky not to have to live with the ever-present…fuzziness he’d dealt with when they’d been staying with Georgie and Melanie and their inadvertent cult. But they really and truly didn’t have a choice.

“I suppose if we have to, we could put a—a beacon or something at the foot of the stairs under the trapdoor,” Past Jon said uncertainly.

Tim grinned. It looked slightly diabolical in the flickering candlelight. “Ooh, or one of those electronic gizmos they use in hunting to attract prey.”

“I’m very sure random deer calls would have the opposite effect than luring us to where you want us to go,” Martin said with a smirk. “Have you ever heard those things? They’re terrifying.”

The conversation devolved into a slightly silly discussion of the weirdest animal cries they’d ever heard, and Jon was able to breathe and eat his dinner without too much trouble.

That night, though, curled into bed with Martin, he said quietly, “What if it’s a bad idea? What if being down there…what if I fall apart again? What if it’s like at Salesa’s, but worse?”

“It won’t be,” Martin said. The confidence and assurance in his voice was almost a physical force.

“How can you know that, though?”

Martin ran a hand through Jon’s hair, gently untangling a knot that had probably got there during his panic attack in the living room. “Did you know that if you lose sight in one eye, you only lose something like twenty percent of your overall vision but all of your depth perception?”

“No?” Jon could have known that, if he’d wanted to, obviously, but it wasn’t something he’d ever consciously set out to learn. He also didn’t see how it was relevant.

“I mean, you can sort of train yourself to compensate for the depth perception, but yeah, twenty percent of your vision. Mostly peripheral. It makes it harder to see people coming from that side of things.” Martin’s fingers caught in another knot. “The Beholder really had two eyes overlooking the Apocalypse, Jon. Jonah and you. He saw from the heights and you saw from ground level. He oversaw, and you…experienced. I’d even go so far as to say you were the dominant eye, so to speak. Of course you were weak when you were cut off from it. It’s like a phantom pain. That won’t be an issue now. The Eye isn’t as…strong. You said yourself, you’re still…you, just not quite as…all-powerful?”

“Hopefully I’ve still got enough power to do what needs to be done,” Jon sighed, but Martin’s words were a comfort.

After a pause, Martin added, “And you have me.”

“And I have you,” Jon agreed. “And we can probably get fairly close to the Archives. All right, I know I’m probably worrying unnecessarily. It’s just…” He trailed off, tracing his fingers over the three puckered holes clustered just above Martin’s heart. Jonah had known what he was doing, far too well. “I can’t lose you again, Martin. I can’t. And I’ll never forgive myself if it happens because I wasn’t strong enough.”

Martin covered Jon’s hand with his own. “It won’t. You’re strong enough, Jon. I trust you. And you know I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

“I know.” Jon snuggled into Martin’s chest, then leaned up to kiss him. “You know I can’t do this without you.”

“I wouldn’t want to see you try.”

Jon yawned and adjusted the covers over the both of them. Martin rolled onto his side and buried his face in Jon’s hair, and Jon sighed with almost-forgotten contentment as he drifted off to sleep, Martin’s heartbeat thudding steadily in his ear.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #ptsd cw #panic attacks #I think we all agree that Jon has issues with lotion #but it occurs to me he probably has thunderstorm issues too

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