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darsynia · 1 year

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Trust Fall | Ch 23

ARC by Eury Escodero | gif by @cindysmoon

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Emory feels the effects of the serum withdrawal and gets some details about the mission she's been drafted into.

Length: 4,795

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

Emote: You still have my shirt

Metal Man: I’m sleeping with it in lieu of you being here

Emote: Aww, that’s kind of sweet

Metal Man: Yeah, well, the next step is to dress Dum-E in it and roleplay little arguments about how much of my arm real estate is on display

She is entirely too shy to admit she’s been sleeping with his clothes, but her heart is full to bursting at the comparison. Unfortunately those thoughts could generate power, which is a bad idea in the car, so she goes for a joke to defuse the romance potential of their conversation.

Emote: That is so ridiculous!

Emote: I’m way shorter than that thing!

Metal Man: I was expecting you to object to the lack of boobs, but actually that was me. I object to the lack of boobs. I miss boobs. Yours in particular.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Heat Haze

“Apparently, I have a lawyer,” Emory tells Clint as she reads an article written about sightings of her over the past few days. ‘Emory Autumn’s lawyer’ asks for privacy as she builds her life back from scratch. Whoever wrote it isn’t wrong-- but she doesn’t remember being consulted about it. If it’s the same gentleman she spoke with by phone to discuss the forged POA papers, though, she trusts the man’s judgment. He’d done a lot to reassure her about that situation, and had promised to contact the police on her behalf.

“Good,” Clint says. “You’ll be able to defend against my civil suit for emotional distress after you ate the last of my seasonal chocolate.”

She lets half of the paper fall forward so she can glare at him. “You said I could have anything in the cupboards!”

“I forgot they were in there!” He flips a coin that lands in exactly the right way to knock a piece of wood into the window latch, releasing it so the hinged pane swings open. He tosses another at the opposite window, with the same result. The immediate crossbreeze is a blessing in the hot July temperatures. “They had Christmas wrappers, Emory. That should have been a sign.”

“I thought I was doing you a favor!” Emory argues, scooting forward on the couch in preparation to get up. “Do you know how demoralizing old chocolate can be? You are so ungrateful.” She goes to stand up, but her knees fail. It’s as if they’ve liquified and cannot hold her legs straight anymore. Emory falls back onto the couch, her insides flash-frozen from the splash of adrenaline and fear.

“Em?” Clint says, rushing over.

The now-familiar weight in the pit of her stomach sinks lower, and for the first time she recognizes its similarity to the aches and pains she’s been feeling in her joints over the past week.

“Oh my God,” she whispers.

“Serum withdrawal?” he asks, concerned. All Emory can do is nod, but when she sees him go for his cell phone, she pushes herself to elaborate.

“I’ve been feeling ‘off’ for at least two weeks, but I figured I was just tired. I thought that bone-deep weight pain was anxiety!” she croaks, her vocal cords feeling thin and brittle. She pulls his lone couch pillow onto her lap and buries her face in it.

“You had one job,” Clint teases, sitting down beside her to rub her back with a wide, warm hand.

He’s right. She was taught a few maneuvers they wanted her to know, but the crux of the mission is based on the debilitating effects of serum withdrawal. Everyone is waiting for her to get sick, but the pain had crept up on her so subtly that she’d completely missed the signs.

“Hey, Nat. It’s time. She says they might have been happening for a while,” Clint’s saying into the phone. “Yeah, I agree. No more than ten days.”

Ten days sound like a lifetime to endure in terms of deterioration and far too soon when looking at her own preparedness. If the alternative is to progress through pain like this until she dies, though, Emory would rather face her fears, both real and imagined.

“I took your suggestion and offered to back up all the records, so there’ll be more than just SHIELD ops on these,” Rhodey says, setting down what sounds like a very heavy box onto the floor beside Tony’s desk. To check for sure, Tony reaches out a foot and pushes against it with his toes. It’s as solid as Gibraltar. He gets up and offers his seat to his friend.

“They just let you hobble out with decades of this stuff?” Tony asks, crossing his arms and looking down into the box. It’s a collection of hard drives of varying ages, all jumbled together like tetris pieces.

“They wanted me to find something to do while on desk duty with this leg, so I did,” Rhodey shrugs. “It’s not like there isn't a warehouse somewhere with all the paper copies.”

Colonel Rhodes had been one of the airmen injured when an improperly secured load gave way. Tony still hasn’t found out whether he sprained his ankle running away or being struck by something, which really only matters for the teasing.

“In reality, I’m doing you all a favor, is what you’re saying,” he says, lifting out the first ancient-as-hell hard drive.

Tony heads over to rummage in a drawer of cables, looking for the right connector to start copying over the data. There’s something symbolic about the fact that his father had kept exactly the right kind of cables for the copy, but had never rigged up this basement lab space with the kind of airflow that made it bearable in the summer. Howard Stark always did prioritize machines over people, except maybe when Steve Rogers was involved.

“Either that or you’ll piss them off by helping me do it too quickly.”

“There’s no reason why you can’t just wait to tell them you’re done, Mr. Eagle Scout!” Tony points out. “I’ll text Happy to go grab some of the terabyte drives we have in storage. We’ll expense them to your boss, and you can take two boxes in when you go back to work.” Rhodes is notoriously reticent with pain medication, so Tony pushes that button, just because. “On second thought, maybe just one at a time. You’re probably on some pretty hefty drugs, and those hand cart dolly things count as heavy machinery.”

“Speaking of heavy machinery, are you ready to let me take a look at the device you keep hinting at? The one that you said let you know what it’s like to fly?” Rhodey asks, completely ignoring his jab.

Tony doesn’t want to show Rhodes the suit. It wasn’t built for war, but he’s not naive, not after all the years he’d spent consulting for the military. There are five, maybe ten places in the carapace that could be modified for weaponry, and that’s just off the top of his head. They’ve been best friends for years, but James Rhodes is a model soldier. He’ll see the practical applications right away, but once his colleagues get ahold of the armor, they’ll want to add weapons to it, guaranteed.

He brushes off those thoughts and tosses a flippant comment at Rhodey.

“I thought you liked airplanes, Orville.”

“The Wright brothers were as fascinated with the design process as they were with flight, you know that, don’t you? From what you’ve implied, the thing you came up with involves both.”

Tony leans over to make sure the copy’s going, but when he straightens up, he lets a big grin cross his face. “Almost better than sex. Almost.”

“Even with that woman you were--”

“Are,” Tony corrects. “And that’s why you’re doing this for me. Shield’s got their claws in her, and I’m going to get my claws in them.” Since Rhodey had been teasing him about settling down or catastrophically falling in love for years, he changes the subject. “You guys good to find another weapons supplier? Anyone but Hammer, okay?”

“Maybe we should. Watching the troops struggle with that guy’s shitty designs might be enough to change your mind,” Rhodes tells him. He reaches down as if to scratch his leg and frowns at the bulky boot that encases the lower half of it. “Damn. It’s really tempting to sleep for a week, if only to stop my damned leg from driving me crazy inside this thing.”

“Yeah, the itching is the worst. I’ve got this, okay? Most of it doesn’t need much more than mild supervision,” Tony tells him. “Skedaddle, Daddio.”

“I’ll go on one condition: you never say that again. Ever.”

“Fair enough. I’ll call you when I get those drives, this’ll take a few days, tops. I’ve got multiple computers that can work on this. Go rest.”

Rhodes agrees, and Tony walks with him to the car. He’s happy his friend chose to have a driver for this visit, and even happier that circumstances had worked out to give him access to those records. Just like with the SHIELD agent before, Rhodes’ hired car had parked out front, and Tony watches it drive off from the front door, almost thumping his forehead against the frame in a form of violent stress relief. There are probably still cameras watching the front of his house, though, so he ostentatiously scratches his face with a middle finger and goes back inside.

He heads back in after waving goodbye at the retreating vehicle, anxious to get started on the protective armor he’d started designing for Emory. As cool as it is that she can fly under her own power, the emotion-based nature of that power leaves her dangerously exposed, as does the idea of using air as any kind of protective barrier. The trick had been finding a material that’s light enough not to need significantly more power consumption to stay aloft, but Tony’s pretty sure he’d found the right combination. As a bonus, he’d been able to devise a fastening system that she can easily get in and out of, something that wouldn’t work with his heavier, thicker metal plates. That part isn’t fabricated yet, though. He doesn’t have a Bridgeport at the New York house, but despite JARVIS’s jokes about his rapport with the lab guys, they haven’t minded him stopping by to make a few things. They’d liked the attention.

Emory’s mission can’t be more than three weeks off, not that he expects that they’ll let him know very far in advance. There are a few more tests to run on the efficacy of her armor, tests that would be easier if he could ask Emory to spin air around the prototype while he tested how much mitigation that adds-- but Tony would rather surprise her. The plan is to fly back to LA tomorrow for a day and a half so he can use Stark Industries’ wind tunnel. It’s just a shame the palladium shipment won’t be there yet. Tony’s own improved arc reactor design allows for palladium inserts rather than a depletable ring, so he can at least build the power core for her suit without having to wait for Obie to show up with it next week.

When he gets back to his workroom, Tony heads for the boot he’d been doing wirework on. On the table beside it is a floor-incorporated design for the Disrobe-Bot, but he pushes that aside for now. The wiring for Emory’s suit has taken a little longer than his own, mostly due to him having left the best tools in Malibu. He tells JARVIS to make a note that he should pack some of them up to bring back to New York.

“Certainly sir. In addition, you should know that the preliminary results from our SHIELD analysis are proving concerning,” JARVIS says.

“I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise,” Tony mutters under his breath. Director Fury has yet to call, not that he’s surprised. He’s observed that, quite often it’s the ‘little guys’ who are more trustworthy than upper management. Barton and Romanoff feel like they’re legit, if mysterious. Coulson and Fury? Conniving at best, duplicitous at worst. “Lay it on me,” he says, louder.

“Drawing solely from public data, there is a twenty-two percent overlap of SHIELD ops at locations where adverse events occur within a week’s time. I believe the deviation from random chance is enough to warrant more investigation. However, this may change when the confidential missions are factored in.”

Tony squints one eye, then another, as he tries to figure out what his AI is suggesting. He tosses out a guess. “Are you saying that SHIELD has managed to schedule actions that coincide with crisis events so often it might be on purpose? That’s far more likely to be bad luck, wouldn’t it?”

“The number of occurrences are statistically significant.”

“Not to question your diligence, J, but have you factored in the idea that at least some of those missions were designed to prevent the catastrophes in question? That the public facing part is a smokescreen?”

“I have.”

Tony stands in silence digesting that idea as the soldering iron he’s just turned on heats up. “That’s… bad, right?”

“Quite possibly. More data is required.”

Tony shuts off power to the soldering iron and shoots a text to Hogan saying he’ll pick up the hard drives himself. He’ll see what computers are laying around unused and bring some of those home to expedite the copying process. It seems like the most important thing he can do to protect Emory right now is find out what her new buddies are really up to.

He’d love to find out the location of her mission, too, but that will be more tricky. If SHIELD finds out he’s even thinking about that, they’ll probably trump up enough charges to keep him tied up in legal knots for years.

The benefit to being covert in D.C. is the proliferation of governmental offices. Emory knows that she’s being watched mostly tangentially by the press; thankfully Tony’s reappearance on the social scene and her extreme ordinariness has done a lot to neutralize Rory’s accusations. The general consensus is that she’s working with ‘the government’ in relation to the kidnapping, something that Tony can’t do because of how busy and difficult he is. Any residual talk about the whole thing has been more about the nasty letter Tony’s lawyers reportedly sent to Rory.

Emory’s lawyer has strictly instructed her to avoid any contact with her former boss (not that there’s been an attempt, which she supposes would hurt more if she hadn’t been forcibly removed from Rory by the kidnapping in the first place), and to stick to ‘no comment’ if/when she’s asked about it. That’s only happened a few times, though. The car that SHIELD sends for her blends in with all of the other cars like it, and sometimes they even duck into a nondescript parking garage and wait a while, just to muddy the waters.

As she often does to pass the time during the ride, Emory sends Tony a text through his private messaging app. He’d explained the high level of encryption to her in a note he’d sent with the phone, which she’d thought was adorable. The entire thing read like complete gibberish to her. At first she’d felt stupid and insecure about it, but eventually Emory realized that he’d taken the time to explain, rather than assuming she’d never understand.Someday she’ll ask how much is made-up tech speak, which, knowing Tony, has a 20% chance of being true.

Tony is inordinately proud of the fact that his pre-existing music-related username is even more apropos nowadays.

Emote: You still have my shirt

Metal Man: I’m sleeping with it in lieu of you being here

Emote: Aww, that’s kind of sweet

Metal Man: Yeah, well, the next step is to dress Dum-E in it and roleplay little arguments about how much of my arm real estate is on display

Emote: That is so ridiculous!

Emote: I’m way shorter than that thing!

Metal Man: I was expecting you to object to the lack of boobs, but actually that was me. I object to the lack of boobs. I miss boobs. Yours in particular.

Everything she can think of to say is based on his reputation as a womanizer, so Emory just sits there like a rock, biting her lip and staring at the phone waiting for him to say something else.

Two minutes go by.

She can’t take it anymore.

Emote: Tony?

Metal Man: I’m sorry, I got distracted.

Emote: Please tell me you weren’t thinking about physically modifying your robot so it can wear my shirt!

Metal Man: I was not

Metal Man: I was thinking that I’d rather talk about your boobs on a voice call. In detail. You free tonight?

Her hair blows into her face from the jolt of energy that prompts. Emory does what she’d practiced: she sets the gathered ball of power in motion around her head like an invisible crown. The energy packet will ruffle her hair and eventually blow out or knock itself free, but it won’t disrupt anything too badly. It’s a precursor to the actual shielding she’d tried before, but with a bit more density per ‘ball.’

That’s her power dealt with, but her body’s physical reaction is still raging. Because, yes, she does want to hear his voice, low and teasing, telling her to do things, explaining what he’s doing in response.

Metal Man: Please tell me you’re busy thinking about that.

Swearing under her breath, Emory scoots her body away from the back of the seat and adds another packet spinning around her shoulders.

Emote: Guilty as charged.

Emote: I can barely hold my phone now, I can’t even imagine what a mess I’ll be if you’re serious about this!

Metal Man: Oh, sweetheart, our hands will be too busy. That’s what speakerphone is for.

Fuck, she can picture that in full technicolor surround sound. The car comes to a complete stop and she looks up, surprised and certain something’s wrong, but they’re already at the Triskelion.

Emote: Speechless. Car ride over. Yes to the call.

Emote: !

It’s all she can do to send her stored up energy spinning up into the sky above her before she steps into the huge lobby. Her phone vibrates, but Emory doesn’t let herself check it till she’s more calm. It’s been a while since she’d gotten so flustered, power-wise, but really, SHIELD would deserve it if she flattened a few fancy sculptures after the bullshit they’ve pulled on her so far.

Tony’s message is worth it, when she gets to peek at it in the elevator.

Metal Man: Good, looking forward to it. I’ll even promise not to make ‘Stark naked’ jokes.

She taps out a response, lips curving into an indulgent smile.

Emote: Don’t make promises you can’t keep!

She ducks into a bathroom and splashes water on her red face, trying to settle her imagination down. Both of their sexual encounters had included dim or nonexistent lighting, and she hadn’t even seen his mansion bedroom… but the images in her mind’s eye capture Tony with so much realism that she’s breathless.

The intense feelings of longing she’d felt in the cave had retreated while she was trapped at SHIELD, but they’re back now that she’s back in the modern world. Just as Yinsen had implied about his time confined with his future wife, Emory had expected that the rush of affection and desire she felt for Tony was about seeing him so often, learning his quirks, watching him hammer on metal, arms slick with sweat. But even though they’re separated by more than two hundred miles, she still wakes up expecting to catch a glimpse of Tony changing shirts, or see him angrily brushing back his shaggy hair as he glares at a schematic. She hasn’t gotten to trace her hands along the angles of his bare back like she’d promised herself she’d be brave enough to do someday.

“Shit, I swear I stepped in here for something more than cooling off, but what--” Emory mutters to herself. At least her frequent ‘thirsty’ thoughts lately have helped with keeping her power generation at bay. In addition, the flood of endorphins from her favorite coping mechanism eases the chronic ache from serum withdrawal. It’s a hell of a silver lining, but she’ll take it.

A text from Natasha pops up reminding her to take her pain medicine. Emory smacks her head in remembrance, shoots off a thank you text to Nat, and takes the pills, rushing back out to be on her way. There are two checkpoints to get into the conference room, and once she’s inside, Emory hears the hum of an odd-sounding machine.

“Sound scrambler,” the woman at the head of the table says. It’s Agent Sharon Harris, who seems to be leading the mission briefing. Harris offers a thin smile. “It’s probably overkill, but this will be the culmination of over two years of work, most of it undercover, all of it vital. We’re just waiting for Agent Barton to finish up with one of our suppliers, and we’ll get started.”

Emory hadn’t seen Clint, but Harris nods over to an alcove in the room where he is speaking on a landline in another language.

“I didn’t take his seat, did I?” Emory asks Natasha in dismay.

Before Nat can answer, Clint does it for her. “Nah, you’re good.” He says to Harris, “Transport’s on, sightseeing tour is a go. The Army reserve ‘World War II in Two Weeks’ group will stop to see the Nazi massacre site of Baron Kovačevi’s private army early in the AM. One scenic drive later, we’ll be in position around noon.”

Nat watches him sit down across the conference table and remarks, “We’re going to another location directly before heading into Sokovia for that, right? I have some candidates.”

“Not that one,” Clint says, pointing with narrowed eyes. “We do not need to be hung over for this.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t hold your liquor,” Natasha purrs.

“If that’s settled, we can start with the overview,” Agent Harris says with the barest hint of a smile.

While folders of information are passed out, Emory whispers to Nat, “Is she your superior or is the leader different for each mission?”

She holds up two fingers, probably meaning option #2.

Despite her enduring dislike for her, Emory gains a new respect for Agent Sharon ‘Nurse Kate’ Harris as the hour-long briefing unfolds. Far from an opportunistic mission unlocked by her own unexpected capture, the lead-up to the assault on the serum scientist has been going for eighteen months or more. Harris has been undercover for much of it, posing as a negotiator for a dying crime boss from a place called Madripoor. After his death, she’d been offered a job working as a liaison between their target, the scientist, and his victims. Emory’s appearance had been fortuitous, shifting the focus of the assault to one where Emory, guided by Sharon, would suggest offering the serum to Tony Stark in an attempt to appeal to their target’s ego.

“Ms. Autumn is meant to be seen as a sad, beaten person who is out of luck, money, and options. All she has left is influence,” Sharon tells the room.

“Valid, but ouch,” Emory says, as all eyes turn to her.

Not long after that, the assault support team is asked to break off into a separate room to discuss logistics and travel. Natasha gets up and speaks with one of the agents, who nods and leads the group of twenty of them out.

“Starting to feel like a rabbit in a trap,” Emory says. She has managed to keep her fear-based energy generation at a minimum today, but it’s not nonexistent. Natasha’s focus on her ability to control herself is making a lot more sense now that she has a better idea of what they’re up against. It seems pretty clear that this villainous scientist will view her as an adversary until Emory proves otherwise, and he’ll be prepared for her to have ‘magical’ abilities as a matter of course. A beaten-down supplicant is going to generate outrage at a different pace than a deceptive adversary.

“Do you need to go toss some tornadoes, for courage?” Clint teases.

“No, but I’d take a time machine, if you’ve got one,” she jokes weakly. “I think Stark would be the better choice for a double agent.”

“Don’t worry,” Sharon says briskly. “Your demeanor only makes you more credible.” Without further pause, she starts in on a few of the things that she’d wanted to keep quiet from the rest of the team.

Most of it sails over Emory’s head, all but one (encouraging but astonishing) thing: through her liaison work, Sharon has managed to make allies of two of the people currently working as ‘minions’ because of their inability to pay for the life-sustaining serum injections. It’s encouraging in a way, but Emory’s incredibly grateful that this isn’t what they asked her to do. Talk about a rabbit in a trap!

In the car on the way back to Clint’s, Emory can’t help but wish Agent Harris felt more trustworthy. Her demeanor is hard to deal with, but the woman’s actions have been nothing but helpful. Sharon Harris reminds Emory of a kind of ‘reverse’ Rory Fall, at least up to the last couple of years. Rory had always been careless or neglectful, but her attitude had remained friendly, albeit needy. She’d played the part of a lost, desperate best friend who couldn’t do without Emory’s help, paying lip service to their relationship while always choosing what was best for herself. Eventually, the people they worked with got tired of dealing with her shortcomings, and the veneer slipped.

It should feel better to interact with someone trustworthy, whose actions speak louder than their brusque, dismissive words, but Emory almost feels conditioned to mistrust, at this point. She pulls out her phone and almost sends a message to Natasha about it, but the last thing Emory wants to do is look like less than a capable partner on the upcoming mission.

Clint will be gone for many hours yet, so when she gets inside the apartment, she locks it and heads into her bedroom, locking that door too. As they were leaving the conference room, Nat had asked her how her power generation control has gone lately. Emory was able to tell her truthfully that she sets aside some time every day to practice control during moments of strong emotion. That’s true, but it’s not always on purpose. Throwing herself onto the bed, she tries not to picture herself as a storm-tossed boat, but that’s hard.

She’s frightened by the pain of withdrawal.

She’s scared by the mission.

She’s angry at Rory.

She misses Tony.

These same emotions flash through her every day like lightning. Emory employs various strategies to dissipate any power that accumulates as a result, and she does try to learn how to diffuse the more powerful emotions before they get out of hand. All of that is reasonable, and it makes sense. The problem is that the most effective way to mitigate those strong emotions, the ones she’s wracked with when she curls up in bed, is… unorthodox, at best. She’d never be able to do it on a mission, in public, anywhere else, really. For the most part, Emory had avoided sex while working for Rory, and romance? Forget it. In a way, it makes sense that she’d be consumed by these feelings now. But something about her upbringing (or maybe the way she was almost never afforded privacy in her life as a PA) makes her feel like she’s doing something wrong.

Telling Tony she’s been touching herself for stress relief is impossible to imagine, even though he’s the person she thinks about the whole time. When he’d joked about phone sex, she’d nearly collapsed in on herself.

Emory rolls over on her side, pulling her phone from her pocket so it’s not uncomfortable. Suddenly, the familiar pain in her joints hits her. That’s new. Usually she has a mostly coherent, pain free existence until nighttime when the withdrawal pain catches up to her. But it’s three in the afternoon!

“Noooo. It’s too early, come on!” she groans.

A sudden buzzing sensation under her has her jolting upright. Everything on the dresser across from the bed flies off into a heap. Emory hobbles over, pain seizing up her joints, but nothing is broken. Her blast of energy dissipated almost as soon as it had appeared.

On the bed, her phone is ringing. She must have been lying on top of it and missed the quieted ringtone. It’s faster to throw herself onto the bed and roll over to reach the darned thing than take the pained steps to walk closer.

“Hello?” In her haste to answer it, she hadn’t checked who was calling, but only two or three people have the number anyway.

“Hey, gorgeous. Why do you sound like you’re dying? You’re not dying, are you? I have a strict ‘no dying’ policy.”

Next chapter... Tony calls Emory up and the two of them greatly enjoy the ensuing... conversation.

#tony stark x oc #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x original character #tony stark imagine #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark #series: autonomy #ocfairygodmother #fyeahsuperverseocs

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raisinghellonstarbug · 3 years

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Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

#james acaster #james acaster fanfic #james acaster x reader #james acaster x you #original female character #original male character #original story #off menu #eventual romance #slow burn

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a-crimson-lion · 3 years

Text

The Past Is Present (In All The Wrong Ways…)

So I saw that @elflynns-horde-of-stuff wanted to talk about BNHA 319, and I was going to send her and ask, but then I let my thoughts go on too long, so… everyone gets this gigantic brain dump. Enjoy :D

[Fair warning: no immediate Bakubashing, but it does come in later. I’m not joking, if you don’t like that, AVOID it. Please. Thank you.]

Now there’s a LOT to unpack with this chapter, and I might not be able to put all of it in words, so let me try and boil it down to what I believe is the core issue:

People are recognizing Midoriya’s bulls*** without recognizing Bakugo’s bulls***.

[TL;DR at the very end, just so you know.]

Which, let me be clear, is completely fair. I like Midoriya as a character, he’s obviously one of my favorites, but hoo BOY am I sick and tired of the s*** he has to go through and the s*** he’s pulling! I understand he’s going through a lot of stress right now and he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt, but from a completely professional standpoint, that is LITERALLY THE JOB. His other friends are literally HEROES (in training) that have also been through their fair share of UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONAL BULLS*** BECAUSE OF SHONEN LOGIC, so realistically trying to protect them, while noble, does kinda come off as insulting. And I get the whole savior complex thing, because the whole “its my responsibility, let me handle it” isn’t entirely irrational on its own.

The previous holders of OFA more or less signed up for the responsibility.

Nana Shimura signed up for the responsibility, not her family.

Toshinori Yagi signed up for the responsibility, not his friends and (found) family.

Izuku Midoriya signed up for the responsibility, not his mom, not his friends.

...except AFO isn’t just targeting OFA, though that is a big priority on his to-do list.

Except AFO, as a villain, isn’t just OFA’s responsibility.

Except even if innocent people can’t and shouldn’t be brought in the crossfire, Midoriya’s friends aren’t civilians. A good bulk of Midoriya’s allies aren’t civilians. They’re heroes. They signed up for this. Maybe not taking on an ancient evil like AFO, but hey, most villains nowadays AREN’T a part of the standard deal.

The thing about a savior complex is that you often have a blindside.

And from a more personal perspective, I’m not a big fan of the whole “protagonist repeats history” kinda deal, especially with the way BNHA framed itself as a sort of “next-gen” shonen which was supposed to be kinda sorta different. And the thing is, we already have several examples of the same story with the previous OFA holders, especially Nana and Toshinori, which we’ve seen in glimpses on several occasions.

Internally, it does make sense for Midoriya to be repeating the mistakes of his predecessors. Personally, I think it would make more sense if Midoriya’s inferiority complex manifested in a different way (and maybe show us the dangers of that heroic isolation through Nana and Toshinori in more fleshed out flashbacks so that part doesn’t get completely left out). But that’s not what we’re talking about here.

Now, with all my grievances of Midoriya settled… Bakugo.

Before I go to deep into AntiBaku mode, let me just say right now: I kinda get what he was going for.

He’s not being an arrogant loudmouth like usual because he’s letting his ego talk; he’s doing it because that’s what’s familiar to him AND to Midoriya. Midoriya is used to Bakugo when he acts like that, he hasn’t shown any serious signs of not being receptive to Bakugo when he’s like that (at least not recently), so Bakugo uses that in the hopes that maybe that familiarity will get Midoriya to stop and think. It’s worked before, right?

And in all fairness, maybe those insults are trying to get to Midoriya, too. He’s not thinking of OFA as some grand blessing, he’s not trying to be another All Might (the manga went as far to show us how much Izuku does NOT look like a traditional hero right now), so maybe Midoriya will stop and try to reason with his friends, and maybe come to reason with himself as well.

...or he’ll think Baku is full of s*** trying to set him off and just keep moving along, both out of annoyance and thinking Bakugo doesn’t really understand.

(This is where trying to understand Bakugo ends by the way.)

Because all of the above is assuming that Bakugo is approaching normal circumstances. Which he’s not.

Midoriya is tired, both mentally and physically. Midoriya has a very, VERY bad person trying to cut him off from everything, and everyone, and it’s working. Midoriya is under the impression that if he doesn’t keep moving, if he doesn’t try to fix this mess that HE signed up for, people that don’t deserve to get hurt are going to get hurt.

All Might is one of those people. His friends and classmates are some of those people. BAKUGO is one of those people.

And right now, all Bakugo is doing is getting in close proximity, doing what he usually does. He’s not changing his approach to throw Midoriya off, because he’s not that kinda person. He’s trying to talk Izuku down because that is his usual approach, and it’s worked before. Even if Midoriya ultimately contradicted his words, he’s always at least acknowledged Bakugo and what he’s had to say. So Bakugo’s trying to get him to realize how it looks from his perspective: Midoriya is getting a big head, he’s not ready for this responsibility, he’s not supposed to be this way.

...but that’s not what Midoriya’s hearing.

Right now, if I had to guess, the only thing Midoriya is processing right now is that he’s not enough. All Bakugo’s taunts are doing is inflaming his inferiority complex, reminding him that he’s not doing enough. He’s not a “Majesty… successor of One For All” because he’s NOT focusing on the clout, and from Midoriya’s perspective, he’s been doing a s*** job of helping people after the Nagant fiasco and with tracking down AFO and Shigaraki in general. He’s not an “All Might wannabe” because All Might can’t help right now, and even if he could, he’d be doing a lot better in Izuku’s eyes, because even if Toshinori Yagi was human, painfully so, All Might was always, ALWAYS, the #1 Hero for a reason.

...and how can Midoriya live up to that? What has he done to live up to that, to live up to ANYTHING, really?

Midoriya isn’t focusing on how much he’s done. He’s focusing on how much he hasn’t done.

“I can still move…” ...becuase I haven’t moved enough. Because I haven’t done enough.

With that said, time to switch topics: Bakugo’s understanding of the situation, while more extensive than anyone else, is also limited in its own right. I have problems with him claiming he knows All Might and Midoriya better than anyone else because of the sequence of events leading up to that are, realistically speaking (shocking, I know), completely contrived (aftermath of the Battle Trial, DvK2, subsequent invitation to secret OFA meetings). But that’s also because really, there’s a lack of complete awareness on Bakugo’s part, which isn’t expected, but still important.

Neither Bakugo nor Midoriya (nor the readers/viewers, really) know the full extent of All Might’s history as Toshinori Yagi. Midoriya probably knows a lot more of it than Bakugo does from a purely personal perspective, but that’s still not much, so Bakugo’s claim of knowing All Might is kinda :/ Then what about Izuku? Well…

Bakugo is willing to acknowledge that he bullied Midoriya. Bakugo is willing to acknowledge that Midoriya’s sense of self-worth is non-existent. But has Bakugo ever really acknowledged the impact he personally had on the latter?

Bakugo has been willing to see that the way he treated Midoriya was unjust, I won’t deny that. But as of now, we have yet to see Bakugo properly, explicitly realize that HE is the major contributor to Midoriya’s lack of self-worth. As far as Bakugo’s concerned, this is just another thing that Midoriya’s been doing since he was a kid. Except the fact that it’s not. Midoriya’s selflessness was always there.

...his lack of self-preservation came later.

And that’s the crux of the issue, really (finally, no more babbling): Bakugo is trying to tell Midoriya that he isn’t enough, but Midoriya is used to that. He grew up with it, heard it on repeat, internalized it. Not just from Bakugo, even if he was at some point a major contributor. And that’s Midoriya’s driving force: he’s not enough, he needs to do more, he can’t stop. There’s logic in Bakugo’s approach, but first off, it’s f***ing stupid logic, and second, logic doesn’t translate well to emotion. Even if Bakugo is doing what he’s doing with Izuku’s well-being in mind, he’s completely missing the point and kinda coming off as a dick, both externally and from a meta standpoint.

Izuku Midoriya doesn’t need Katsuki Bakugo trying to talk him down. He’s used to that.

Izuku Midoriya needs someone to tell him he’s done enough, plain and simple. No backhanded compliments, no workaround taunts. He needs someone like All Might- no, someone like Toshinori Yagi. He needs someone who is willing to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he is enough, that he’s done enough.

More than enough people have already acknowledged Katsuki Bakugo.

Not enough people have truly acknowledged Izuku Midoriya.

TL;DR: Midoriya needs help, but the way Bakugo is going about it could actually backfire and feels shortsighted.

-Crimson Lion (9 July 2021)

#anti bakugo #anti bakugou #kinda #just to be safe #meta #long post #rant #vent #not putting it in the main tag #but this is about midoriya and bakugo just so y'all know #and obviously this is about ch 319 #just putting it like this so people aren't completely in the dark if they're reading the tags #Word Count: 1633 #incoherent rambling #i think i forgot some of the other stuff i wanted to say #i did say more than enough tbf #...intentions aside #i still don't get why people are more focused on bakugo's issues more than midoriya's #with midoriya we see he's going down the deep end and we automatically recognize it for what it is #but with bakugo people come up with every justification under the sun because 'no he's not being an asshole. he has a reason!'#izuku has his reasons too. they don't mean s***. he's being self-destructive. his reasons be damned.#same goes for baku continuing to act like it hasn't already been a year. i don't care about his reasons or what he thinks he knows.#he's still acting like an ass. he's still trying to be an alpha male. he's still demeaning izuku (intentionally or otherwise) and has yet t #properly acknowledge the part he played in making izuku feel worthless.#no amount of reason covers for destroying someone's self-worth. it's still wrong.#...a'ight i'm done.#wonder how things are gonna go on from here. there isn't a guarantee for the story's direction.#...not sure whether to be curious or terrified. i'll be both.#again there's more i can say but i already used up most of the tags lol #might make another post but that's honestly a coin flip. still a possibility though.

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marktuansvevo · 3 years

Text

got7 reacts to something theyve never experienced before in a relationship

warning(s); slight cursing, sexual content in bam’s part

mark; being jealous

mark understood why his past partners could be jealous of him in his line of work. as long as it didn’t get out of hand, he thought it was cute. he was never the jealous one in the relationship. he didn’t even know what jealousy felt like....

....until tonight.

you were mark’s entire world. you excited him, you built him up like no other. never before could he see himself spending his life with someone before you came along. you made the world brighter to him.

but now he was only seeing red.

you had been a trainee and never debuted, which you weren’t too upset about, you had a boyfriend you loved and a career with less physical and time demands than being in the entertainment industry. this meant that you knew a lot of other bands, stray kids being one of them. chan was, quite frankly, your best friend during your trainee days, so when you saw him at this afterparty you were attending with mark, you threw yourself into his arms.

mark just watched you from afar.

and his blood boiled.

chan spun you around in his arms, the biggest smile on his stupid, handsome face. “yah!! y/n! mark didn’t say you’d be here.”

you giggled, trying to keep your tears at bay. you put your hands on his face, poking his dimples. mark scoffed at the blush that was forming on his friend’s face. “god, chan i missed you so much.”

“bro, you look constipated,” bam snuck up behind him. “dude, your face is so red right now.”

mark rolled his eyes. “these parties are so annoying.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you as you caught up with chan, who still had his hand around your waist.

bam followed his line of vision. “shit, you’re not constipated, you’re jealous. yugyeom, come look at him!”

mark walked away from his intoxicated friends and up to you. you smiled at him before returning to your conversation with chan.

“y/n, we have to go,” mark said lowly, smiling a sickly fake smile at chan, who immediately dropped his hand from your waist.

“why, baby, we just got here? are you not feeling good?” you asked. he wanted to feel bad, your voice was laced with concern.

“something like that. see you, chan.”

as you got in the car, you smiled at him, poking his cheek. “somebody’s jealous, huh?”

“huh? of chan? i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he clenched his jaw, not making eye contact with you as he steered his car out of the parking lot. you were giggling now.

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. maybe i should make more time for chan.”

“y/n!!!”

jaebeom; wearing disguises in public

jaebeom never thought he would have to dress up in a disguise to go out in public. and jae would never want to put you in such a position. it was draining, and you, as his girlfriend knew that he despised it.

but you wanted to go to a concert with him.

and you wanted to stand in the pit with him and be part of it. don’t get you wrong, you loved when he bought you suite seats or could watch his shows from backstage, but you wanted to sway to ariana grande in th pit with your boyfriend.

“cmon, jae, i think everyone is going to be paying attention to ari. we can skip the opening act?” you suggested.

“y/n, i don’t want to take a chance...im sorry,” he pouted at you. you sighed, trying to figure out what to do.

“what about disguises?” he said. “like, we could wear our halloween costumes?” you were giggling to yourself, but your boyfriend seemed like the idea.

“i could wear my jesus wig and you could paint a beard on me?” he said with serious eyes.

“jae, you hate going out in disguises.”

“true...but, babe, this will be fun. you could wear your sailor mars wig, it’d be cute,”

okay, this was a really cute idea and you were warming up to it...if it made your boyfriend more comfortable to be out in a crowd of so many people, you were down to try it out.

“this really feels like halloween in july,” you giggled as you used mascara to draw a beard on his chin.

“do I look like jesus??” he asked childishly.

“well, you don’t look like im jaebeom of got7, that’s for sure,”

“you look like an egirl,” he laughed at himself. “don’t hate, you know you love it,” you said. “we look so cute, let’s take a mirror selfie and post in later,”

“no, then people will be on to us,” your boyfriend sent a pout in your direction as he looked at his makeshift beard in the mirror. “I look sexy as fuck in a beard,”

“super sexy aegyo please?”

the two of you arrived at the arena, not be noticed by anyone, but jae was still on edge, so you held his hand tight as you made your way into the pit.

“im so excited!!” you shouted over the noise. he shook his head before leaning in to kiss you. the two of you danced the whole night away to arianas crooning, his arms around you as you swayed to her pretty, soothing voice. the two of you let the world fade away while ariana sang honeymoon ave in the background.

jackson; his significant other saying ily first.

it was no secret that jackson was stock full of love and kindness. he had had other partners before you, all with him ending up getting too attached, or scaring them away when he said “I love you” too early.

he did not want to scare you away, and honestly, he had known he loved you two months into dating, but he didn’t want to scare you away, so he never outwardly said those three little words to you.

he wasn’t expecting you to say it, first though.

you had invited him over for dinner and a movie, just wanting a chill night in with your boyfriend. he brought the wine and promised to give you a back massage, so really, what more could you want on this chilly thursday night?

“what’s been going on, honey? you know you can tell me anything,” jackson whispered into your ear as he helped you out of your clothes.

“I feel like I deserve to oversee my department at work. i have the most education of all of them, more experience than them, and generally, I am more optimistic than my superiors….,” you sighed, letting him rub just under your shoulder blades, which had been itching all week.

“mmm?”

“i think they might be scared of powerful women who like to wear hot pink fendi suits to work,” you smiled, knowing he would be offended at your joke. you could almost feel him pouting.

“so the reason you can’t get the job is because your superiors don’t like the suits your boyfriend buys you? wow, what a way to hurt a guy’s pride…,” he followed your lead on the joke, trying to make you laugh because he knew this was really getting to you. “baby, I think you should go to their boss and see if you can get a promotion…tell them everything you told me, okay? i know you’re not only the best woman for the job, but the best person for the job…period,” he said, making you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. none of your previous partners had ever revered you the way jackson had. you felt so incredibly blessed and in love, you couldn’t help yourself.

“god, jackson, I love you so much,” you whispered.

the movement of his soft hands on your back stopped abruptly at your words. ‘oh god, was it too early to say that?’

“j-jackson…im sorry-“

“ive been waiting to say that to you,” he breathed against your lips, closing the distance that was between them.

“jackson wang….you love me?” you could feel the tears building. the man of your dreams was in love with you, too.

“i love you,” he whispered reverently.

“say it again,” you begged. he said it like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you….i love you..”

jinyoung; moving in together

jinyoung thought you were so cute. you were ecstatic to move with jinyoung. you had been living in your shared apartment with your mom your whole life and we’re excited to start a new chapter of your life. jinyoung didn’t think you were taking in the fact that moving is one of the most stressful things a person can go through.

he didn’t want to rain on your parade, though.

the two of you got settled into your new apartment after a long day of unpacking. jinyoung kissed you as you laid onto your new king sized bed. “im gonna grab takeout, you want your usual?” he asked sweetly, squeezing your hand. you just nodded, squeezing his hand back.

you watched as jinyoung walked out of your shared bedroom. that’s when the dam broke. you were so overwhelmed. you didn’t know how to make warm water happen in your shower, you didn’t have your wifi set up, and you forgot your favorite teddy bear at your moms. you missed teddy and your wifi and your mom.

“hey, i ordered you two egg rolls and they gave us three - hey, baby, are you crying?”

“no,” you replied lamely. “I miss teddy,” you wailed miserably.

“teddy...the...stuffed bear?” he asked.

“i slept with him every night for the past 20 something years.”

“baby...we can get your bear in the morning...,”

“we don’t have netflix set up so how am i supposed to sleep tonight?”

“y/n...,” he chuckled. you frowned harder now that he was laughing at you. “moving isn’t as exciting as it looks. tomorrow, we will fix the wifi, okay? and we can visit your mom and rescue teddy.”

“okay...okay. im sorry, im just a bit overwhelmed,” you confessed.

“its gonna be okay, honey. it’s a lot to take in, i know. but you can hold me instead of teddy, and ill sing you to sleep,” he whispered, the takeout now long forgotten. before you could fall asleep, he pulled his iphone out of his back pocket and pulled you into his chest to take a selfie. “there. now we have a picture of us in our bed for the first time.”

“i love you, you sap.”

even though you called him the sap, the next day you went to the pharmacy to get the photo printed and frame it. when jinyoung came home from the market that day, he eyed the frame on your bed stand, smirking at you.

“oh, so im the sap, hmm?”

youngjae; picking up the tab

it was the first date the two of you had been on since youngjae had been on tour. he told you to get dressed up and that the two of you would go out for a fancy dinner and catch up on everything. this is why you loved him, because while you wanted to hear all about his stories of life and tour abroad, he always wanted to hear about everything that was going at home, to see if you were alright.

youngjae looked dazzling in a black checked suit, while you matched him with a little black dress that made him groan when you stepped out of the bathroom. “can we skip dinner?” he’d ask cheekily. you rolled your eyes at him before kissing him on the cheek. “we aren’t skipping dinner, and we definitely won’t be skipping dessert,” you winked before leading him to the car.

the two of you ate dinner together, him holding your hand and looking at you with stars in his eyes as you told him stories that had happened while he was away. you ordered appetizers, drinks, shared an entrée, and youngjae even ordered you a slice of apple pie for the two of you to share.

“baby, I’m going to go use the restroom,” youngjae said before kissing your hand. “’kay, don’t get mugged, please,” you teased him. he shook his head at your playfulness. you watched as he left before frantically waving your arms at your waitress. she ran over to you, checking if you were alright.

“I just wanted to wonder if I can pick up the cheque really quick? I wanted to pick it up for my boyfriend as a surprise,” you spoke in a hushed tone, making the waitress giggle. she nodded her head before handing it to her. you handed her your credit card, thanking her before your boyfriend had any suspicions of what you were up to.

youngjae came out of the bathroom as soon as the waitress set the cheque down. you were applying your lipstick so you couldn’t snatch it in time. you watched as his pretty brown eyes scanned the receipt, looking confused as ever. “is this a joke? what kind of waitress lets the girlfriend pay?”

“jae,” you giggled. “you don’t always have to pay for dinner. I wanted to treat you…I missed you so much,” you confided, watching his expression from anger into warmth.

“oh, thank you honey, you are so sweet and thoughtful, I love you so much,” you let him wrap his suit jacket around your arms before planting a kiss to your forehead. “but that will be the last time you ever do that.”

“shut up, i like doing nice things for you,” you pouted.

“since you paid for dinner tonight, i have to put out, right?”

he ran to the car before you could slap him in the chest.

bam; his s/o borrowing his clothes

remember how joey never shared his food? well that’s how bam was with his wardrobe. he was very particular about his clothing, not letting people borrow them at all. yugyeom used to steal his clothes just to be petty and piss his best friend off. he had never let past partners borrow his clothes, and nothing was going to change, it wasn’t his fault, it was an obsession. if you were sure of one thing, it was to not steal your boyfriends clothes.

but one day, while he was gone from work, you thought you would take pictures of yourself in only one of his blazers to tease him.

you weren’t expecting him to walk through the door while you were trying to take self timer pictures of yourself.

“baby? what are you doing?” bam asked, laughing as you let out a squeal of surprise.

“i..i wanted to surprise you...,” he tsked, pulling away to look at his blazer. “i know you don’t like me wearing your things..,” you stammered as he circled you.

“you have such pretty things, though, bam,”

“you look so sexy in this,” he purred. “you were trying to get me worked up while im trying to work?”

“u...uhhh,” you couldn’t think coherently with you boyfriend acting so domineering. you gasped as he slid his hand up to your cunt, rubbing your clit in little circles. “bam...please...,” you groaned.

“keep the blazer on,” he said as you writhed in his grip.

“its gonna get all sweaty though and then you’ll yell at me,” you teased him as you followed him to the bed.

bam just groaned. “baby, im sorry I haven’t let you borrow my clothes before but you look better in them than me. now, let me fuck you and i promise you can have anything you want in that closet.”

he knew exactly how to shut you up.

yugyeom; his s/o buying him flowers

yugyeom was always so stressed during comeback season. you always scolded him when he forgot to eat, or wasn’t staying hydrated enough, but you were so proud of him. seeing the smile on his face and the way he walked a little taller was so worth it.

he was still busy during comeback season, coming home late after all the videos he had to shoot for publicity.

one night, yugyeom had gotten home around midnight to a bouquet of pink roses and a handwritten note from you. it read; “I am so proud of you, my love. congrats on breath… I can always feel your love,” he blushed and giggled to himself, thinking, “isn’t the guy supposed to buy the girlfriend the flowers?” he wandered into your shared bedroom to see you sprawled into his side, with your book in your hands, a soft snore leaving your lips. he nudged you, not intending to wake you up, he could thank you in the morning. but he did accidentally. “yeom?” you whispered.

“shh, baby go back to sleep,” he shushed, changing into his pjs.

“did you like the flowers?” you asked, suddenly awake now.

“theyre really pretty, baby, but aren’t I supposed to buy you the flowers?”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “not my boyfriend being a sexist,”

“yah! y/n stop it, I didn’t mean it that way!! I love them, you remembered I said I love roses,” he was pouting now, pulling you into his chest to spoon you. his voice got quieter now. “no one’s ever remembered my favorite flowers…much less bought them for me,” he paused, kissing the back of your neck before closing his eyes and falling fast asleep.

he was whipped.

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 preferences #got7 writing #got7 imagines #park jinyoung #mark tuan #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #bambam #jackson wang #im jaebeom #got7 writings

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Only One Choice, Chapter 12

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 15, 1996 9:06am

To: [email protected]

Subject: This weekend

Hey,

It was good to run into you yesterday. Your sister seems nice. Is she older or younger? I remember you said you had three siblings; where do you fall in there?

Let me know if you can come by this weekend. Priscilla promises to provide a better beverage selection this time. She was unimpressed with my hosting abilities.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 15, 1996 10:23am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:This weekend

Hi,

I was surprised to see you in Georgetown again, what brought you by? Not your drug dealer again, I presume (disclaimer to anyone reading this that it’s a joke). I’m the third of four; Missy is two years older than me. Our oldest brother is Bill and little brother is Charlie. Do you have other siblings, aside from the sister you told me about?

As for this weekend, I’m free in the evening on Saturday. I had the thought, though, that it’s perhaps not appropriate for us to be spending time alone at your apartment. Not that I think you have or would behave inappropriately in any way, just for propriety’s sake. Sorry if that seems old fashioned. Maybe we can get dinner? Send my regrets to Priscilla.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 15, 1996 4:45pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:This weekend

Given the later half of your email, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to admit that I went by that coffee shop hoping to see you there again. So let’s just say it was indeed to pay a visit to my dealer.

Nope, Samantha was my only sibling. Mom and Dad divorced after she disappeared. It was far from a Hallmark movie, but I turned out okay (I think).

Scully, if you don’t trust yourself around me behind closed doors, all you have to do is say so. Jokes aside, I can respect that. I actually have an idea of something we could do that is very public and not at all inappropriate. Will you trust me if I tell you it’s a surprise?

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 16, 1996 9:36am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:This weekend

I go by that coffee shop most Sundays, sometimes with my sister or mom, sometimes alone. I’m not sure what your dealer’s typical hours of operation are, but I tend to be there around noon. For future reference.

I’m sorry to hear about your parents. I would say you turned out pretty well, but then again I hardly know you.

I will trust you with a mystery public outing so long as you let me know what to dress for and also if there will be food involved. Something you should know about me; if you don’t feed me I turn into a Gremlin.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 17, 1996 8:56am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

Hey, sorry I never got back to you yesterday. I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice to say that criminal profilers are not immune to workplace drama.

As luck would have it, my dealer runs a blue light special at 11:30 am on Sundays, so I tend to be in the neighborhood around that time. A stunning coincidence.

I think you know me better than the vast majority of the people I interact with at this point, save for a select few. I’m not sure if that speaks as much to the fact that I like hanging out with you as it does to the fact that I don’t have many friends. My spooky reputation tends to scare people off, but I’m not exactly crying in my cornflakes over it.

I wouldn’t want you to turn into a Gremlin on me, so refreshments will be provided. Wear something you can move in, definitely not a dress or heels (it pains me to say this). Can I pick you up at 5:00?

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 17,1996 2:31pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

Workplace drama knows no bounds. I’ve been getting the silent treatment from one of the other pathologists because I questioned whether they’d calibrated the scale before weighing internal organs.

I think you’re overestimating how well I know you, Mulder. I know next to nothing about you, outside your interest in the paranormal and a bit about your childhood.

I’m resisting the urge to ask what you have planned. Why don’t we meet somewhere? If you’re taking me UFO sighting...we better see a UFO is all I’m saying.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 18, 1996 9:10am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:The weekend

I want to make a comment on the fact that weighing internal organs is part of your job description, but I spent an hour today debating whether someone sticking pencils in their victim’s eyes is some kind of Freudian penis envy thing.

You know more about me than you think, Scully. You know I’m a cat person, and that I have terrible taste in beer. Also that I like Radiohead and am not beneath asking a woman out while she’s trying to do her job. I’ll offer you a bonus fact, or more accurately a confession: I didn’t really need to come down to Quantico last week when we had coffee. I just wanted to get coffee with you. Don’t tell my boss.

Now you have to tell me something about yourself. It’s only fair.

If there were any good places to spot UFOs around here, I’d take you in a heartbeat. If you’re ever up for a road trip out west, let me know. Washington State is a hotbed of UFO activity. Plus they have really good coffee.

Can you meet me at the Hoover building? I’ll drive us from there.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 18, 1996 1:19pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

So what was the verdict on the pencil/penis eyeball situation? Fruedian or no?

I’m touched that you’d go so far as insubordination to have coffee with me, however I hope you won’t make a habit of it. Next time you come down here I’ll have to email your boss and ask him if you got permission to come out and play.

Something about me...I like to read a lot. I think I’d say Jane Eyre is my favorite book of all time (not that you asked). I’m also addicted to bubble baths. Actually, reading Jane Eyre IN a bubble bath is pretty much my idea of heaven (ideally with a glass of wine).

I’ve been to Seattle once. Too much rain, though it was very green and pretty. Isn’t that where Bigfoot lives?

I’ll meet you at the Hoover building on Saturday at 5, wearing my very best ball gown and stiletto heels.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 19, 1996 8:13am

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

No verdict will be reached unless and until we catch the guy and have occasion to ask him if he was using his pencils as...pencils. Profiles are all theory, which can be both interesting and frustrating.

I wouldn’t advise you to contact my AD, he’s kind of a dick. I’ll ask him to write a note excusing me from work next time.

Jane Eyre? I wouldn’t have expected that from you. It’s a very romantic book, and entirely centered around two people who never should have worked as a couple coming together despite numerous obstacles. Is that something you’re into?

You get 95 points for knowing that Bigfoot lives in Washington (you lost 5 for calling him Bigfoot; he’s known as Sasquatch out there). My dream vacation is lurking around the forests of the Pacific Northwest, Squatchin’.

It’s a date.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 19, 1996 3:46pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

Don’t ruin my favorite book by overanalyzing it, Mulder. If you’d like to trash Wuthering Heights, be my guest. I pledge my allegiance to Charlotte.

Your dream vacation sounds like it might end in death from exposure, or perhaps a good old fashioned bear mauling, but who am I to tell you how to spend your paid leave?

See you tomorrow, at 5. And it’s not a date.

From: [email protected]

Sent: July 19, 1996 6:55pm

To: [email protected]

Subject: RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:RE:This weekend

I would always rather be happy than dignified.

(A little Charlotte to arrive to on Monday)

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xfiles #alternate universe

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Buy me a drink and let me tell you why I need it

Authors note

Thank you very much for the request @caelys I had fun writing it and actually I thought about modern!au John way too much. Like I made a model for his apartment and a playlist and I could possibly draw ten more fan arts of him.

It takes place in a modern setting, but it starts before John goes to the military. He and Tommy still work in the Garrison, besides some other shadier jobs. Arthur is a car mechanic or something like that. Ada still goes to school and Finn too. Polly and Michael are not mentioned here.

Female reader x bartender!John BIG PUNK VIBES HERE!

Actually, this was going to be a multi-chapter fic with intense slow-burn, but whatever there it is. Just say one thing and I’ll write a second part!

tagging @bonniesgoldengirl

Warning: drinking, drug use, marijuana, swearing, infidelity mentioned, a little bittersweet

Word count: 2348

The garrison was not a pub for everyone. It was full of gangsters and other low-life scum. A woman was a curiosity. Working there wasn’t pleasant, but John didn’t complain.

It was the only legal job he got after graduating. He worked at the Garrison twice a week, usually on Friday and Saturday.

The nice thing about this work was the free beer and he could make as many cigarette breaks as he liked.

Nevertheless, John was a little pissed that night, because he could see his friends drinking over there and he had to stand behind the counter. Tommy’s orders!

“Fuck off, Tommy”, he mumbled while cleaning bar. Of course, his brother didn’t hear that, he was busy making some phone calls. John didn’t want to know, who Tommy was calling or why. Probably their next job.

But while he was still on the first one, he didn’t want to think about more work. He already had enough. It was past ten and John hadn’t eaten for hours.

At first, he was to occupied from his work to notice you. You sat down at the bar and cleared your throat. It wasn’t on purpose or to get the bartenders attention. Actually, you just wanted your peace. You hated being trapped in your new apartment, while everything was still so empty. Since you moved, so much changed in your life, but you still felt lonely.

That’s why, you walked straight into the nearest pub, when you couldn’t bear the weight of your own thoughts. But now you realized you hadn’t a penny left. Or at least not enough for a beer. “Get me a glass of water please.”, you said to the bartender, who kept starring at you. First you thought he was a little weird and also a little intimidating, but then you understood what he expected from you. An order, of course.

“A glass of water?”, he asked with a grin on his face: “Really? You know, where you are, girl?”

Now you looked confused. Maybe there was an unspoken rule, to not order a soft drink in this place, but how you should know? After all, you’ve been pretty new to Small Heath. Three days ago you moved into your new place. It was small, but it was yours. Your private space and your sanctuary. “A pub�� maybe?”, you joked: “So what about the water?”

“Ah, I get it… It’s the end of month.”, he responded.

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m always broke. Money is not my thing.”

“Not mine either.”

Now he got your attention. You took a closer look at the bartender. He was somehow handsome. A pretty face for a fucked-up place like this. Then you noticed the tattoos on his arms, that peaked out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Dead Kennedys. Nice”, you mumbled and smiled slightly, barely visible.

He put a filled glass in front of you and smirked. “No need to pay.”

Your eyes widened. That bartender really surprised you. He was nicer than he looked like. You took a sip from the glass and nodded. “Thanks… I guess.”

The water was okay, but everything you wished for was a beer or a whiskey. Something to stop your brain from thinking. However, you nipped the glass very patiently, because you didn’t want to leave this place too soon. You didn’t know the neighborhood and chances were high, you got lost on your way around town.

The bartender seemed to notice your tension. “Do you want to drink something else?”

“A beer would be nice.” You croaked

The handsome man behind the bar nodded and pulled out a pint. “A beer, it is.”

You didn’t know it yet, but you were the only thing tonight, that made his work bearable. Everything else was so boring and you were new in town. Every little thing about you was so exciting for him. Staring with the fact that you stumbled into the Garrison without knowing its reputation. Then your little comment about his shirt, yes, he heard that. And your overall appearance was just the cherry on top.

The leather jacket, the ripped jeans and your washed-out Kurt Cobain shirt said a lot about you and John was ready to listen. What else should he do in the next couple of hours until his shift ended?

“I’m John.”, he said and served you a beer.

You noticed the twinkle with his eye and replied with a shy smile. “Just call me Y/n”

The two of you shook hands and exchanged a strange glance. Was he flirting with you? No, of course not, you brushed it off. It was part of his job, to be nice to his customers.

After a few sips of your beer, you calmed down a bit, but not enough. You fumbled in the inside pocket of your jacket for your package. You smoked Dunhill and probably started way to early in life. An end of your smoking addiction was not in sight. The package was already half empty, when you opened it.

“Fuck” you cursed and signed. How could you make it to your next pay check with just a few cigarettes left? Maybe skip dinner a few times.

“Cigarettes are empty too?” he asked “I would give you one of mine, but they are empty too.”

“No, I still have some left, but not enough until July. Maybe not even enough for the rest of this night.”, you explained.

You took two out of the package and put it back. “Want one? I don’t have money, but at least I still have something to smoke.”

“Whatcha smoking?” “Dunhill”, you answered.

A wide grin appeared on his face. “Me too.”

“I know, I shouldn’t… but I just can’t quit.” You shrugged and lit your cigarette.

John brushed it off. “Fuck em. I think, I’m never gonna quit too. This shit just stays with you forever.”

“True”, you signed and took a deep drag from your cigarette.

“So… why am I the only girl in this place? Is there something I should know?”

“Nah, not really. It’s just…”, he began to explain, but then paused to smoke. You liked how he leaned against the counter. Like there was no cooler person in this room. “I don’t know… most women don’t like it here. Too filthy or whatever.”

You nodded and looked around. Everything smelled like ashtray and whiskey. There was dirt lying around. Nobody seemed to bother, so you chose not to either.

“And you are new in Birmingham?”, he asked: “All the locals know to stay away from this place.”

Again, you nodded and hid your smile behind your hand. “I just grabbed my bass and some clothes and left.”

“Bass?” Now, John was hooked. Since he could walk and talk, he had a thing for music. Especially rock and punk and he blabber about his favorite bands all day. Of course, he never learned to play an instrument, because his family was too poor, but he stole every record he could lay hands on. “You play bass?”

“Yeah, I can also play guitar, but I sold mine to get here. I started playing in a band now and I really hope this is going to work out… somehow.”, you explained

“Maybe.”, he said: “I can ask Harry, if you can play here. Live music would be great.”

You beamed and jumped almost over the counter. “Really?”

“But I need to listen to a song first. Otherwise, I can’t do it with good conscience.”

“Yeah, sure thing! When I get the promo tape, I’ll come back here.” Finally, some good news for you. After all you went though you really needed that and right now you just couldn’t stop smiling.

Three beers later, you were already in an in-depth discussion about music and which bands paved the way for punk.

After six more beers, you danced to the song he put on. John watched you with the purest joy. Nobody has ever danced in the Garrison. Good for him, that Tommy left, because “something important” occurred.

On beer twelve you sang for all the man to watch. The Shelby just could take his eyes off you, even when you didn’t hit the right tone.

He even caught you, when you fell over the counter.

But in the end the bar had to close and you still had nowhere to go, so you waited for him to finish his work. It took twice as long, because John kept staring at you in awe.

After everything was done, he asked, if he should walk you home and you agreed. Actually, you didn’t say yes, you hugged him and rubbed your cheek against his. Then you made a purring sound and told him your address.

You even hold hands with him, but that was mainly, because you were to drunk to walk straight. But you had plenty of time to sober up along the way.

Finally arriving at the front door, you had to stop laughing and catch a breath to manage to say something. “Do you…”, you began and paused, because you didn’t know how to phrase it.

Without hesitation he answered: “Yes! Yes… I mean, it would be cool.”

And again, you started laughing. “I was about to ask, if you want to watch the stars on my rooftop, but I didn’t know you were going to be so excited about this.”

He scratched his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, we were talking about the same thing.”

“Oh honey, I’m taken”, you explained

That last three words crumbled his hopes, that have been build up since you walked into the Garrison.

But he was a gentleman and he shouldn’t expect anything from a woman. After all, you don’t owe him anything. Even though he thought you were flirting with him the entire night.

He just bit his lip and shrugged. “No problem here.”

Then he added: “But we might not see the stars though all the smog and light pollution.”

“Let’s give it a try.” you opened the door and smiled.

You took the steps up to your apartment, John followed you closely. When the two of you entered the small flat, everything was still dark. The alarm clock next to your mattress said four in the morning.

John was so curious, when he looked around. “You really didn’t lie, when you said, you just took you bass and nothing more.”

“Yup”, you mumbled and walked to a pile of clothes. “Do you want to smoke one with me?”

When you pulled out the joint, John grinned at you. His cheeks were still red. “Why not?”

Climbing out of your window and onto the roof sounded way easier than it turned out to be.

But the view was great, and that was enough.

You lit the joint and inhaled the white smoke, just to blow it out again.

“No stars in sight, babe”, he noted while looking up

He was right, but you were still glad, that he came up here with you. You feared the moment of being alone again. “Yes, but the view… is amazing.”

You didn’t notice, he was glaring at you when he said: “Yeah, it really is.”

Then you turned to him to pass him the joint.

John took one drag and coughed. “That shit’s strong.”

At first you tried not to laugh, but ended up giggling anyway.

“What?”, he asked with blunt curiosity.

When you calmed down, you had to tell him the joke that just crossed your mind: “I like my weed like my sex… keeps me paralyzed for a while.”

That was the last thing he thought he would hear from you. He would believe his ears, if he hadn’t starred at your lips the entire time. “Uhm, okay.”, he whispered and hit the joint one more time.

The longer you sat there with him, the more comfortable you two got. After talking the whole night about music and artists and stuff, you finally opened up.

You told him why you left your home town and moved to Birmingham.

And he told you in return something you would have expected either. “Just a few more months and I’ll be in the military.”

John didn’t look like a soldier or somebody who took pride in defending his country. You couldn’t understand, how a wonderful guy like him ended up serving the forces. It just didn’t seem to fit in. But then again, you knew him for a few hours now, so who are you to judge?

“I’m scared”, he whispered: “that nobody but my family will write me… and I’m going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

That feeling was all too familiar for you. Your heart ached, when you glared at him. “I write you.”, you promised. “And phone you and what else.”

“You would?” His voice was full of doubt. “We don’t know each other really.”

It was true, but you always kept your promises. You moved closer to him, to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. “I would. I know this feeling too well.”

For one second you thought he was going to kiss you, and you were ready. The drumroll played, like it always did, when the first touch of two pairs of lips, unknown to each other, was close. But the drumroll was all you were going to get tonight. You kept staring at his beautiful mouth and how would it feel, when his lips meet yours. Infidelity has never been your thing and you would stay true to yourself, even when the chance was so tempting.

“Can you hold me?”, you asked, while avoiding his eyes. You felt pathetic for being so needy in front of a stranger, so you added: “Just for a while.”

John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he just pulled you in arms and stroke your back.

The two of you felt all alone in this broken world, but right there you met and became friends. What a weird thing to happen.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #female reader #peaky blinders modern au #joe cole

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supergraphicultramoderngirl · 3 years

Text

The After Chronicles

Summary: After Earth and all of the planets around it were officially deemed uninhabitable, humanity was forced to move into massive spacecrafts carrying the new intra-galactic colonies. All was well until the universe-altering black hole, which tore through one of the last surviving intra-galactic communities and caused all of humanity to start over yet again. Two weeks later, things are beginning to return to normalcy, and people are finally returning home from the wreckage perimeter of the event horizon— among them, William Ortega, known more frequently as Willie, or Alex Mercer’s best friend. Alex has known him for years, known what a firecracker he is, so to see his friend return as though his light has been put out, well, it’s almost as disorienting as everything else that’s been going on.

Link to Masterlist

Word Count of Chapter: 1,353

———

Chapter 1: are you still starting fires?

Alex tries not to think about it too much.

This proves to be difficult, given he overthinks about, well, everything, and this particular thing is just. Too important.

Long story short, years ago, after Earth and all of the planets around it were officially deemed uninhabitable, humanity was forced to move into massive spacecrafts carrying the new intra-galactic colonies. Everything was fine until the supermassive black hole ripped through said colonies, and forced all of humanity to start from square one all over again. Now, two weeks after the black hole, things are finally getting back to normal; apartmentships are being rebuilt, the mallships are reopening, rocket sales have increased, and people are finally returning home from the rescue ships.

Willie still hasn’t shown up yet.

Willie, Alex’s best friend since Jamie Allston said his haircut looked stupid in the third grade and Willie loudly disagreed, the human firecracker, the kid with a promising future in skateboarding, the guy Alex has been quietly in love with since eighth grade.

His other friends tell him that it’s fine, because a bunch of people were still caught along the event horizon and needed rescue ships to take them back, and as far as the authorities know, no bodies were left behind.

But that doesn’t mean Willie couldn’t have been sucked in. Hence, the worrying.

(“Have you even heard of what happens to you when you get sucked into a black hole, Jules? It’s fucking spaghettification. He could be spaghettificated right now and we wouldn’t even know.”)

Today is the day that the rescue ships are supposed to make it back, though, and so now Alex is just patiently (read: impatiently) waiting at home to see if Willie will ever come back, or if he completely missed his chance to confess his feelings and will never get to see his best friend again. No big deal or anything.

Alex sighs, ignoring the faded blue cap on his nightstand as he heads out the front door.

•••

Alex grips the railing of the metal gate lining the edge of the rescue ship port, nearly bouncing with energy as the ships begin to unload. There’s a sizable amount of people who ended up getting stranded, so it takes him a minute to find Willie’s head among the crowd. Alex nearly bolts forward once he does, but the gate stops him and his boot slams into it, causing a large clanging noise to sound throughout the station. Pointedly ignoring the stares from the crowd of those waiting beside him, Alex sucks on his teeth and backs up a step from the gate. So much for subtlety.

After Willie makes his way around the gate, Alex finally runs over to him. He grips Willie by the shoulders and starts to chatter off, “Willie! Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re back, I- I’m so glad you’re okay even, you would never believe how fucking boring it’s been without— Willie?” Alex cuts himself off once he gets a good look at his best friend’s face. Willie’s barely even giving him a glance, biting on the inside of his mouth, rubbing his elbow with his thumb— he’s nervous, or at the very least uncomfortable, that much is obvious, but Alex can’t for the life of him think of why. He drops his hands. “What’s wrong?”

Willie shakes his head. “I’m just, really tired, I guess. Kinda just want to go home,” he replies half-heartedly.

“Oh,” Alex breathes out, and he tries his best to hide his disappointment. “Yeah. No, yeah, of course. I’ll take you there?”

“I mean, yeah, I kinda don’t know where it is anymore,” Willie responds, and ouch.

“Right.” Alex lets out a sigh, then continues as they begin walking, “Okay. So your apartmentship is still right next to mine, and honestly, most things are set up the same, it’s just a different galaxy and stuff, so it’s not too hard to get around.”

Willie throws him a noncommittal shrug. “Cool.”

“Yeah.” Yeah, this won’t be awkward at all.

•••

A shell of a person was not exactly what Alex had in mind when he said he wanted his best friend back, but apparently it’s what he’s getting.

He’s laying on the floor in Willie’s bedroom, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, while Willie sits on the edge of his bed, swinging his legs. There are a million words Alex would love to spew at his friend, but it feels like none of them are the right ones, none of them are the ones that will bring back the firecracker of a person he once knew.

He doesn’t get it, really; they both went through the same things, both experienced the same parts of the black hole. And sure, Alex was still shaken by it and is adjusting to the change (no matter how poorly said adjustment is), but he isn’t— he hasn’t closed himself off to the people he trusts. He hasn’t become an entirely different person.

And it’s hard, really, because Alex loved Willie; yes, there were romantic feelings there that he didn’t bring up as often, but even on a baseline level, he loved him. He loved the things that made Willie who he was, the spontaneity, the empathy, the humor, the drive, everything. It’s hard to know who someone used to be with those traits and not see them as someone else without them.

This doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Willie anymore, though. In fact, it’s almost the opposite. There are so many things Alex wishes he could do to help Willie, to care for him, to hug him, anything, but the very notion that he could lose Willie by choice rather than circumstance is enough to keep his mouth shut.

Alex is trying his best to bring Willie back to who he once was. He knows he might never fully get there; what they all went through was traumatic, and would have effects on them for the rest of their lives, but he’s trying at the very least to get a smile out of the other boy.

He’s gotten nothing.

He refuses to give up.

“Is there anything you want to do now that you’re back?” Alex asks, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at Willie. “I’ve heard the new set up for the skate park is really fun, and there’s even an anti-gravity section—“

“I’m not really feeling it,” Willie interrupts. “I’ve kinda had enough of zero gravity at this point.”

The joke lies flat, a lull falling into what could barely be called a conversation, and it’s enough to make Alex’s anxious energy start leaking out. “You— you don’t even want to skate? That’s… like your favorite thing in the world, what’s up with you?” He asks, not accusingly.

Willie closes his eyes for a moment while he crosses his arms against himself. “Nothing’s up, I just don’t want to. Am I not allowed to do that now?” he responds, adding, “I’d rather just chill here. You can leave if you want to do something else, though.”

Alex splutters, “Wh— no, I never said that, I’m just—“ he takes a breath, looking down at the floor, “—I’m getting a bit worried about you. You’re not interested in anything you used to do, you’ve gotten quiet all of a sudden, and you barely even talk to me anymore.” He looks back up at Willie. “I’m supposed to be your best friend, Willie. You can tell me anything, you know I’ll always be here for you, right?”

Willie’s face hardens and he stops swinging his legs, pulling them up to hold them in his arms. “Maybe I don’t know that.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and mumbles, “I think, I think I just want to be alone right now. You should leave.”

Alex doesn’t get how he could have fucked it up this bad, but he nods, gathers his bag, and heads out the door, more determined than ever to get his best friend back.

He ignores the blue cap again when he flops onto his bed.

———

taglist: @jealous-kippen @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @secretly-of-course @sylphrenas @julie-n-phantoms (ask to be tagged!!)

#the after chronicles fic #willex #julie and the phantoms #jatp #alex mercer #willie jatp #jatp fic

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waynes-multiverse · 3 years

Text

Starry Nights – Part 1

Chapter Title: Colorado

Pairings: Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Zoey Lafitte (OFC), Sam Winchester x Jessica Moore (minor)

Universe: Small Town AU

Characters: Zoey Lafitte (OFC), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, Benny Lafitte, various OCs & other spn characters fill in as townies

Chapter Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, language, drinking, a bit of angst, a teeny bit of implied smut (we love our sex jokes)

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: The first chapter of my little summer fling series is here! Still no idea how long this will be, but judging by my motivation & inspiration, it might go 15+ parts. The story takes place in 2006 in a fictional town in Colorado. This is all pretty much romance mixed with youthful stupidity and small-town charm.

And yes... I named you again. Consider me your mother at this point and accept the god-given name of Zoey Lafitte.

Hope you enjoy & Godspeed! ;)

Tags and requests are open! Just dm me or send me an ask ⚡️😈

Series Masterlist

People buzzed around him, overloaded with luggage and joy, as Dean stood in the arrival terminal at Denver airport, waiting for his little brother and girlfriend. He was excited to have Sammy back for the summer – maybe even for good since the youngest Winchester had just graduated Stanford and was on his way home.

19:35 – LQ2378 – San Francisco, Dean read as he stared at the digital board listing the arrivals. Ten more minutes, and he’d see his little brother again.

As someone bumped into his shoulder and unapologetically rushed off, Dean was even more glad to leave the airport and city behind again and return to his quiet hometown. He hated the crowds and was afraid of flying. So in the past four years, he had only visited Sam a few times at college – and only taken his Impala for a road trip.

“Nice ass, Colorado,” it suddenly sounded from behind him. He didn’t even have to turn around fully before a small redheaded woman stood next to him with the smuggest grin he’d ever seen. She was wearing jeans shorts, a dark gray cut-out The Grateful Dead shirt, some black converse sneakers, and carried a heavy duffel bag between her legs. She also had a backpack swung over her shoulders that almost made her crumble. She dropped the heavy bag with a huff and let the backpack slide off her shoulders to the ground.

“Zoey?” her name slipped off his lips, and he furrowed his brow in bewilderment. “What are you doing here?”

“Coming home for the summer. Didn’t Sam tell you? Or my brother?” She questioningly arched an eyebrow.

Dean sure as hell knew Sam hadn’t told him but couldn’t remember if Benny informed him his little sister was home for the summer. “Uh, nope. Didn’t mention that,” he replied nervously.

She shrugged. “Well, Sam said you’re gonna give me a ride home,” she grinned.

“Did he now?” Dean played along. He wasn’t that surprised; after all, all he did in high school was give his little brother and his friends a ride.

Since freshman year, Zoey had been his little brother’s best friend while Dean became friends with her older brother Benny. While the younger siblings left town after high school, the older ones stuck around. But every once in a while, their siblings would make a return.

“But seriously, what are you doing here?” he asked her curiously. While it was customary for Sam to come home every once in a while, Zoey was an entirely different matter. As far as he knew, she was never in one place for too long.

“I told you. I’m home for the summer,” she rolled her shoulders nonchalantly.

“I know. But why? Shouldn’t you be in Thailand, Peru, or someplace else? I mean, when’s the last time you’ve been home?”

She put her finger to her lip and stared thoughtfully to the ceiling to complete the contemplative look. “July 4th last summer, remember? We all got super drunk, and Sam puked onto the golf course after like…three beers,” she laughed at the memory, and he joined her.

“Well, to be fair – that was his first time getting drunk after turning 21,” Dean defended the Winchester name.

He still remembered the night all too well. All of them were hanging out together – grilling some burgers in the afternoon, and drinking way too much throughout the day. After they watched the fireworks at midnight, Zoey suggested breaking into the local golf club, knowing the boys could be convinced to anything at a certain level of drunkenness. They managed to steal a cart and take a joyride. Dean had almost kissed her that night before a flashlight was shone in their faces by Sheriff Mills. The next day, he was sure Zoey didn’t remember their little moment anymore, and it was never mentioned again.

“So, what brought you home then?”

She sighed, “You know, just finished college, trying to avoid a life crisis. Probably gonna apply for a few jobs.”

“Yeah? That’s great. Congrats! I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he smiled proudly at her. She had always been driven, always wanted to get out of the small-town they were born in, and she was smart enough to do it. She had always been a good story-teller all her life, so it was no surprise when she moved to Seattle at eighteen to study journalism. “Does this mean you flew in from Seattle?”

She shook her head with a small smile. “Uh, no. I graduated two weeks ago. Took some time off and flew to Bali with some friends.”

“Bali, huh?” He studied her skin and could see a clear tan on her arms. Every so often, he caught himself feeling a little jealous at their experiences. Sam and Zoey got to see the world while he was stuck at home taking care of the family business. He never felt bitter about Sam going to college; Dean never wanted to anyway. But he also didn’t know what it was that he wanted instead.

“Yeah, even got some new ink,” she said and showed him a tiny word tattooed on the inside above her left elbow. A piece of transparent film was still wrapped around it.

“What does it mean?” he asked as he studied the faint black letters.

“I have absolutely no fucking idea. If you ever go there, definitely stay away from the tea they offer you,” she joked, and he laughed.

“Stay away from the tea. Got it.”

“So, have you met her yet? Jess?” She curiously cocked her brow.

“Uh, yeah. Sammy brought her home to meet the fam last Christmas. You?” He liked his brother’s girlfriend. Jess was nice, kind, incredibly pretty, and treated Sam like he was her everything. He was happy his little brother finally found someone. God knows Dean had never been this lucky.

“Yeah, I visited them over spring break,” she replied with a smile.

“Ha! The spring break where you ran off to L.A. with some guy you met at a college rave?” he chuckled with a raised brow.

“He looked like Kurt Cobain. You would’ve done it too,” she replied, smiling slyly, and he shook his head at her. “Hey, you are coming camping with us over Independence Day weekend, right?”

Dean glanced at her, surprised. “You’re coming too?” Apparently, Benny had forgotten to disclose that fact as well. Their planned camping trip for the Fourth of July was only two weeks away, and while his best friend had told him it was a reunion, he had never mentioned Zoey’s name.

“Hells, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? I’m like the only fun person around, Winchester,” she stated with a confident grin. And she wasn’t wrong – leave it to Zoey to come up with something fun to do on a bored Saturday night. “Besides, I finally have a female companion on these trips.”

“Oh, c’mon, we’re pretty civil. And isn’t Violet coming too? And Heather?” he asked about her best friend since kindergarten and her brother’s girlfriend.

“Yeah, but Violett’s coming two days later. She’s currently smooching it up with some guy in Paris,” she replied and playfully made an overtly enchanting gesture to emphasize the romantic notion of the city. “But at least that gives me some time to get to know Jess. Pretty sure Sam’s gonna marry that girl.”

“Huh,” he huffed after a brief pause.

“What?” She narrowed her hazel eyes at him suspiciously. “You don’t like her?”

“No, she’s great. I just figured you wouldn’t like any of Sam’s girlfriends,” he noted and shoved his hands innocently into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Oh, please, you know we’re just besties. I just took pity on that scrawny, nerdy kid in high school. He needed help. And a haircut,” she stated jokingly, and Dean chortled next to her.

“Besides…you know I only date older guys,” she quickly added with a cheeky smirk that made his heart almost stop before she stormed ahead and fell into an embrace with his little brother and Jessica, who had just arrived at the terminal.

His mind was still spinning as the three approached him, walking back with big smiles and excited chatter. Had she meant him with that comment? She had looked at him when she said it, so who else could she have meant? Surely, she wasn’t just talking about her exes, but that could’ve been just as likely. One thing was sure – his cheeks felt hot and flustered as an aftermath of her remark.

He hadn’t thought about his best friend’s little sister like that for a long time. After all, when he was a senior, she was a freshman and goofing around with his little brother, building rockets in the backyard, and playing Dungeons & Dragons in the basement. He found her cute and funny and considered her a friend, maybe even his female best friend – until Sam’s graduation party four years ago happened.

The youngsters had convinced him and Benny to come to some neighbor kid’s pool party in the stinging June heat. Dean was looking around outside for a familiar face, but what he found wasn’t familiar at all. She saw him in the crowd and quickly jumped out of the pool with the widest smile, only wearing a red bikini as the water dripped down her glistening skin. She had looked like she was about to star in a goddamn Baywatch episode. His jaw had almost dropped to the floor. Back then, he had swallowed hard at her sight and never quite forgotten it. It was ingrained in his brain so deeply, he was sure it would be the last thing he saw before he died.

The second time he noticed her in that way was at Christmas two years ago. She had flown in from Tokyo and initially planned to spend the holidays with her douchebag of a boyfriend, Matt, in Seattle. But the idiot cheated on her, and she flew home instead. She had stopped by the Winchester house to wish them all happy holidays. And when she hugged him, he caught a whiff of her heavenly scent for the first time. She smelled of vanilla and caramel – a sweet surprise for someone as wild as her. Somehow, it made him feel blissfully happy, and he had wanted to hold onto her forever at that moment. She smelled like a goddamn Christmas cookie, and all he could think about was eating it, wondering what she would taste like on his tongue.

But dating his little brother’s best friend was a bad idea. Dating his best friend’s little sister was even a worse idea. And dating Zoey all together was probably the worst idea. She’d never go for a small-town loser like him. She was meant for bigger things. It was only a matter of time before she’d pack her bags again and be off to something greater. He still caught himself wishing she would be his, at least for a night. That’s all he really needed – one night with the best girl in town and probably the best one he’ll ever meet. Maybe he would even be worth one of her stories someday. He’d even take a fucking footnote.

“Hey, big brother. Missed me?” Sam smiled, ripping Dean from his daydream. He approached his big brother with long arms outstretched and pulled him into a big brotherly bear-hug.

“You? Never,” Dean teased with a chuckle before he greeted Jessica with a hug as well. The boys took the girls’ bags like gentlemen and stored them in the trunk of Dean’s Baby before the group headed on their 1.5-hour ride home to Granite Creek.

On their drive, Dean annoyed the youngsters with his musical choice of classic rock. Zoey had only mildly protested – after all, she shared a certain music taste with Dean, and her dream had always been to write for Rolling Stone magazine. But she also liked to venture out in all different kinds of genres and loved nothing more than to discover some new indie band that no one’s ever heard of before.

She sat up front with him while Sam and Jess were getting cozy in the backseat like teenagers. Dean and Zoey shared an amused look as they listened to the giggling in the back before she turned up the volume and started to loudly sing along to the lyrics of Cherry Bomb.

After another round of giggling erupted in the backseat, she spun around. “You guys are like teens. This is like high school all over again.”

“Correction – in high school, Sammy never had a girl in the backseat,” Dean smirked like a proud older brother.

“Riiiight…in high school, you were the only one taking girls to the backseat,” Zoey laughed.

“Wasn’t that many,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed.

“Oh, c’mon! You doing it with Caroline under the bleachers was legendary,” she chuckled.

“That’s just a rumor. Never happened,” Dean stated and cleared his throat as he kept his eyes on the road ahead. Small-town gossip sometimes really could take on a life of its own. But for whatever reason, he didn’t want Zoey to think he was just some manwhore – even though it was already a little late for that. Despite that fact, he didn’t need her to believe the lies as well.

“What?” Sam curiously peaked up from the backseat with a cocked eyebrow. “That was just a rumor?”

“Really? Guess my sources were wrong,” Zoey mused and slightly shook her head.

“Yup, guess so,” Dean said as he glanced at her with a soft smile before he noticed Sam and Jess were staring at them with a big grin. The blonde then whispered something funny into his little brother’s ear before they fell back into the seat, giggling.

Zoey leaned back quietly into the Impala’s leather seat, taking in the familiar, comforting smell that always made her feel right at home. Her head rested against the cool window as her hazel eyes observed the sea of pines, spruces, and firs pass by the window; the stars twinkled brightly over the treetops. She hadn’t been home in almost a year, and while she had missed her brother, mother, and friends, she wasn’t entirely happy to be back here. Her whole life, she always had a plan and had never felt so lost before. She had imagined getting a job after college would be easier. Still, so far, she only received rejection letters or was ignored entirely. All she wanted to do was pack her bag and start her next adventure – a new and exciting chapter in her life.

After over an hour, the Impala parked on the side of the curb in front of Rocky’s Bar, where none other than Benny was bartending. The four jumped out of the car, and Zoey immediately stormed behind the counter to give her big brother a long overdue welcome-hug.

“Little grasshopper finally found her way back home,” Benny smiled from ear to ear before he let her go again. “Thanks for giving her a ride, brother,” he said to Dean, and the two greeted each other with a quick hand slap and a pat on the shoulder.

“Hey, man, you could’ve told me the firecracker was coming home,” Dean stated with a laugh. Zoey playfully glared at him before she joined Jess and Sam in a booth at the end of the room near the jukebox.

“Thought it was best, you didn’t,” Benny smirked. He had noticed his best friend’s crush on his sister a while ago. He didn’t necessarily mind it, but he sure as hell enjoyed getting a rise out of Dean over it.

“Oh, you’re hilarious,” Dean feigned a laugh, but his look was stern. “Four beers, chuckles.”

“Three beers and a whiskey for you, my friend. You’re gonna need it with the kids tonight,” Benny laughed and started to prepare their drinks.

Dean joined the group soon after and settled in next to Zoey since the loving couple had occupied the seats across from her, holding Zoey’s camera as she showed them some pictures. He accidentally graced her thigh as he scooted over, but she didn’t even flinch nor move an inch as if she didn’t even notice that he briefly touched her. Maybe she was just too engaged in the conversation she was having with Jess.

“Man, I wish I had a plan,” Zoey sighed after Jess laid out her five-year strategy while Sam had told her about his acceptance into law school – news he still hadn’t broken yet to his older brother.

“Well, you already made about a thousand copies of your resume. I’m sure some paper will be glad to have you,” Sam encouraged his best friend.

“He’s right, grasshopper. You got this,” Dean smiled kindly at her. “No one’s more fearless and fierce than you.” He could tell her cheeks blushed a little to a rosy red at his compliment.

“Those photos are amazing, Zoey,” Jess stated in awe as she handed the camera back to her.

“Let me see,” Dean demanded as his curiosity peaked. She handed him the camera with a smile, and he navigated through the array of pictures. It was mostly photos of the island, the people who lived there; some were of her and her friends. “Who’s the guy?” Dean asked as he looked at a picture with a young man, who had his grabby arm wrapped tightly around her waist as they smiled into the camera for a group photo.

“Oh, that’s just Tomas,” she said but didn’t pronounce the s.

“Seems like Toma is missing some letters,” Dean grumbled sarcastically.

“He’s French. He was an exchange student at my college. He wrote that article with me about the animal testing lab. You liked it,” she stated.

“Well, I didn’t know you had help,” Dean shrugged teasingly as he put the glass of whiskey to his lips again.

“It’s not help. It’s called a co-author,” she retorted.

“Sounds like help to me,” he smirked. She feigned offense at his comment but still chuckled all the way through.

“Hmm, now that your brother is here, he can entertain Zo-Zo while we make out,” Jess hummed with a giggle and drew Sam in for a long kiss.

“Oh god,” Zoey wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Zo-Zo?” Dean raised one of his eyebrows at her with a mischievous grin.

“You’re so not allowed to adopt that nickname, by the way,” she warned him lightheartedly before she turned to the couple. “And you two idiots! Haven’t you already joined the mile-high club on the plane today? Get it together.”

Jess and Sam just stopped their make-out session briefly to giggle before they continued undisturbed.

“Well, great,” Dean huffed as he felt like he was thrown back into high school. “At least, I don’t have to watch it the whole summer this time.”

“You finally got your own place?” Zoey asked him excitedly.

He smiled at her, “Uh, yeah. Made the downpayment two months ago on the old Wilson house on Bridge Road.”

“Wait…you bought Mr. Wilson’s house? Man, I always loved that place!” she exclaimed happily.

“Yeah, I remember. You told me in high school. You always made me drive by when I picked you guys up from school because you wanted to look at the sunflowers in his garden,” Dean said with a soft smile on his lips.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she giggled and shook her head in disbelief. “But wait, if you bought his house…he isn’t dead, right?”

Dean chuckled, “No, no. Earl just moved to the retirement home in Breckenridge. Got himself a hot nurse. I still call and visit him sometimes.”

“Of course, you’d hang out with an eighty-year-old,” Zoey remarked with a knowing smile. “But you did keep the sunflowers?”

“Yup. Even though your brother makes fun of me for that every day,” Dean teased her.

“Oh, he’s just an idiot. I think it’s awesome…although the story is super sad.”

“What story?”

“Well, they were actually Mrs. Wilson’s sunflowers. Her husband just kept them up after she passed twenty years ago. He once told me he could see his wife’s smile in them every day when he looked out the kitchen window.”

Dean stared at her, jaw wide-open. “Are you trying to make me cry?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I mean, you do call the guy Earl,” she shrugged and took a sip from her beer to hide her grin.

“How do you always know these things?”

“Oh, I interviewed Mr. Wilson for the school newspaper. Wanted to do a story on him about his time in Vietnam, but it ended up being about his wife,” she stated thoughtfully.

“Well, you once told me love stories were the best ones,” Dean reminded her.

“And I’ll firmly stand by that. Even the best songs are written about relationships,” she remarked.

“So, you really bought a house,” she noted thoughtfully after a pause. Her eyes were focused on the beer bottle in front of her; her fingers slowly glided along the cold glass, collecting little drops on her fingertips. “I guess it’s official then. You’re not going anywhere, huh, Colorado?”

She had always figured Dean would eventually settle into small-town life and wondered who the lucky girl would be that hooked the greatest guy in town. Hell, if all guys in Granite Creek were like that, even she might have stayed.

“Guess not,” he shrugged quietly and took a sip from his whiskey. There was a reason she had nicknamed him after their home state – he would never leave it and venture out like they had done.

“Still wanna buy Rocky’s with my brother from Dave someday?” she asked as a curious smile played across her peachy lips. She remembered the boys talking vividly about it for years. Of course, Benny had always put her and her mom first after her father died when she was sixteen. Her older brother had even put her through college, sometimes even working three jobs at once.

“I hope so.” It had always been Dean’s dream to own a bar – this bar. Since graduation, he and Benny had his mind set on it. But after his father’s heart attack two years ago, his health declined, and Dean’s dream had become a faint fantasy. His dad needed him at the family’s body shop, and while Dean loved working on cars, he had always wanted something for himself.

They noticed Jess giggled something into Sam’s ear again as the young couple watched them before Sam whispered something back.

“Whoa, whoa, you two! No secrets. C’mon, share with the group,” Zoey challenged them with a grin.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean assented.

“Nothing…I just told him I thought you guys looked cute together,” Jess giggled mischievously, and Sam grinned at them, but Dean and Zoey just glared in response.

“Sam, get your girlfriend home. She’s clearly drunk,” Zoey joked, and Dean chuckled next to her.

“Actually, I have a better idea. I wanted to teach Jess to shoot some pool,” the youngest Winchester stated and held out a hand to the blonde. She grabbed it as Sam led her to the pool table in the corner.

“Teach? You can’t even play yourself,” Dean called after him.

“Oh yeah? I beat your ass last time,” his little brother laughed.

“Did he now?” Zoey asked, baffled, and Dean nodded with a sheepish smile. “Look at big-shot Sammy.”

“Yep, all grown up now,” Dean breathed as a proud smile crossed his face, watching his little brother goof around with his girlfriend.

“You know, last time I talked to Heather on the phone, she was practically begging for Benny to propose to her soon,” Zoey said, and Dean chuckled.

“Well, I think he’s getting close to pop the question,” he mused.

“What about you? Got a lady friend in sight to settle down with? You already got the house,” she stated nonchalantly, but on the inside, she was definitely bursting from curiosity. The last two girlfriends she could remember had been Lisa and Cassie, and he hadn’t dated them for more than a year combined.

“Oh, you know me. Always been a lone wolf,” he replied and rolled his shoulders back.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re surrounded by friends, and everyone adores you in this town, Dean. I should know – I wrote a whole article about it in ninth grade,” she asserted firmly.

He frowned and let his head fall on the wood. “Oh God, I forgot about that,” he groaned. “Wasn’t even a big deal.”

“You saved a kid from a burning house. I’d say that’s a pretty big deal,” she maintained.

“I just drove by and saw it. Anyone would’ve reacted the same way,” he said modestly.

“No, I’ve traveled the world enough and seen plenty. Believe me, not everyone would’ve had the courage to. You, Dean Winchester, are just simply a great guy,” she stated with a shrug and a genuine smile.

His green eyes pierced right through her as the infamous Winchester grin appeared on his freckled face. Every time he stared at her like that, she could feel the heat rush through her whole body, and the more buzzed she was, the less she thought about the consequences. Her emotions wouldn’t be a problem; she could turn them off like a switch if she needed to. She could be just one of Dean Winchester’s one-night-stands – just one night of his hands all over her. But their flirtatious gaze was interrupted by Benny, who coughed slightly as he brought them another round.

“You’re not trying to get my little sister drunk, are you, Dean?” Benny raised a brow at the pair, closely sitting together on the bench.

“What? No, of course not,” Dean defended with a nervous chuckle. Benny smirked cunningly as he placed the drinks down on the table before he walked back to the counter.

The group then drank a few more rounds, caught up, laughed, sang, and danced like old times until Benny had to close up the bar and kicked them out around 3am. Dean tossed his best friend the keys to his Baby, too drunk to get behind the wheel himself, and Benny drove the four of them home. He let out Sam and Jessica at the Winchester family home before letting Dean exit in front of Mr. Wilson’s house. The Lafitte home was only a few blocks up from there, and Benny parked the car in the driveway before he’d return it to its rightful owner in the morning.

As Zoey and Benny walked up to the small porch of their parents’ house, her older brother stopped her in her tracks before she entered. “You’re not gonna do anything stupid this summer, are you?”

“Oh, c’mon, Benny. Who do you think I am?” she giggled.

“My sister,” he stated dryly.

“Well, okay. Hard to argue with that one, bro,” she deadpanned, but he narrowed his blue eyes at her. “I promise I’ll be good. I’ve grown up too, graduated college… I told you I wanna figure out my shit this summer.”

“Good, good,” he nodded, satisfied with her answer. “You know he’s a good guy, right?” Benny knew he didn’t have to say his name for her to understand.

“The best,” she assented with a soft smile before she headed inside the house.

She dropped her bag and backpack in her old room upstairs and slipped into her pajamas. She really needed to take a shower in the morning – she hated the stank of airplane all over her body, but she was too exhausted now.

However, as she crawled under the covers, she couldn’t fall asleep. She just lay in her childhood bed and stared at the Dashboard Confessional and Green Day posters above her with a sigh. She had no idea what to do with her life now. Everything was open, and she could go anywhere she pleased. But where was that?

Her phone vibrated on her nightstand with a text message from her best friend, and she thanked the Gods for timezones. It was already morning mid-day in Paris.

Violett: Hey Z, landed in CO yet? Zoey: Yup. Violett: Did Sammy’s hot older brother pick you up? ;) Zoey: Yup. Violett: Is he even hotter now? Zoey: Yup. Aged like a fine wine… Violett: Did you drool on the backseat of his car, wishing he’d take you right there now? Zoey: Shut up. Violett: That’s a yes.

Zoey threw her phone on the mattress with a deep frown. Dean Winchester’s charming smile, his twinkling forest green eyes, and his protective attitude made her crush on him so hard when she was only fourteen years old. He had been her hero growing up. And while she certainly didn’t have a silly little girl crush on him anymore, she wouldn’t kick him out of bed either. But if there was one thing she knew: He was too damn good for her flaky ass.

As her fantasies started to run wild, her curiosity about the oldest Winchester made her finally fall into a blissful sleep.

Part 2

Hope you enjoyed this part!

Please comment, like, or reblog if you did – feedback always makes my day! ⚡️😈

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester series

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spine-buster · 3 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 31

A/N: Bubble chapters incoming.....!

July 18th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was getting frappucinos with Kasha.

She was happy she and Kasha were on the same page – that they would get tacos for a late dinner and bring them back to their place to eat. Neither were comfortable with dining in restaurants, even though it was allowed. It just wasn’t something they wanted to do just yet. So they’d take the tacos back to their apartment, sit on their balcony, and have a romantic date night with the frappucinos and – if Aberdeen was being honest – a bottle of rosé between them.

Kasha had to run to an ATM, so Aberdeen was left waiting for the tacos herself. It was a Saturday night, so the streets were somewhat busy – not as busy as they would have been during normal times, but busy enough that it made Aberdeen uncomfortable. What was everybody doing out? Where were they going? Who were they meeting up with? Why weren’t they staying at home? It was all very weird to her. Last summer she wouldn’t have even batted an eye; now, she was hyperaware of the people around her, hyperaware of standing six feet away from the other people ordering tacos, either in line or at the restaurant, and was clutching on to the strap of her bag so her hands didn’t fidget with her mask or touch anything else around her. She was getting tested every day at work, and thankfully she was lucky to have them always come back negative. She was being extra cautious. She didn’t want to—

“Aberdeeeeeen? Is that you?!” a voice suddenly called out from down the sidewalk.

Aberdeen looked to her right to see Saylor walking down the sidewalk with a posse of girls equally as glamourous as she was. Aberdeen looked down at her outfit and gulped. Leave it to Saylor to show up when she was waiting for a boatload of food and in clothes she just threw on to appear presentable in public. “Hey Saylor,” Aberdeen half-waved. More than anything, she was surprised to see Saylor in the city – from what she’d seen on Instagram, Saylor had gone back to Lake Forest during quarantine. Kasperi had joined her.

“You’re wearing a mask outside? I thought you didn’t have to here.”

“I was just inside,” Aberdeen pointed with her thumb to the restaurant. Not that she had to justify wearing a mask anywhere. The world was still in the midst of a fucking pandemic. “Just waiting for my food…and my friend.”

“These are my friends – Gina, Amanda, Jen, and Sadie,” she pointed to each girl. Aberdeen gave them all a quick nod. They couldn’t seem less interested in her. “Girls, Aberdeen works for the Leafs with Kasperi.”

Suddenly, all of their eyes shot forward. “Really?” the one identified as Jen asked. “What do you do?”

“I—I’m Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant,” she revealed reluctantly. She didn’t want to tell these girls anything, let alone her job.

“Kasperi told me you’re going into the bubble next week,” Saylor said before the conversation could go any further.

“I am,” she nodded, hesitating to even confirm the news to Saylor. After their last altercation in Los Angeles, Aberdeen was fine with never seeing her again. She was almost positive Saylor felt the same way, but apparently not.

“He said you’re going to be the only girl in there.”

Saylor was right. Aberdeen would be the only woman in the bubble for the Leafs. She was sure – well, she fucking hoped – that other women from other team staff would be at the hotel too. It would make the experience a lot less fucking awkward, that was for sure. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Saylor’s friend Gina snorted. “We all know what you’ll be used for.”

Aberdeen’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Now she knew why Saylor didn’t just ignore her and walk by her on the street. She wanted other people to do her dirty work for her. She wanted to re-live what happened in Los Angeles, except this time, it would be five against one.

“Not yet,” Saylor smiled wryly. “Not until she gets her nose job.”

The other girls laughed. Aberdeen narrowed her eyes at Saylor. “I fucking love my big nose, alright?”

“I’m sure you do. That’s very homely of you,” Saylor rolled her eyes. “And I’m warning you now, you better stay away from Kasperi in that bubble.”

Aberdeen snorted out loud. Actually snorted. “Oh my God, is that was this is about?” she asked indignantly. “You’re…Saylor, you’re joking right?”

Saylor didn’t look too pleased that Aberdeen was laughing at her. “Stay away from my boyfriend.”

“I wouldn’t touch your boyfriend with a ten-foot pole. I wouldn’t even touch him wearing a hazmat suit.”

Saylor took a step forward, trying to intimidate her. Aberdeen was laughing too much to care. The whole thing got so ridiculous so quickly that the only thing she could do was laugh. Saylor was completely out to lunch. “It’s so obvious that you’re so jealous of me,” she said.

“Saylor, I don’t even think about you at all.”

“We ready to go? I got our tacos,” Kasha’s voice suddenly interrupted the confrontation. Aberdeen looked behind her to see Kasha holding the bag up slightly, eyeing the situation. Aberdeen wondered how much of the conversation she’d heard. “Who’s this, Aberdeen?”

Aberdeen took a slight step back. “This is Saylor. Kasperi’s girlfriend.”

Kasha nodded once. “Have fun,” she said to the group of girls before linking her free arm around Aberdeen’s. As they took their first step forward, Kasha looked at Aberdeen. “Kasperi? Is that the one that DM’ed me?” she asked. Loudly.

Aberdeen didn’t turn around to see Saylor’s reaction. She didn’t need to. She knew she would have never seen someone turn so red so quickly in her entire life. And as they walked down the street, the wry smile on Kasha’s face grew. “Was that okay?” Kasha asked.

“You’re brilliant,” Aberdeen said. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do – okay, it definitely wasn’t the nicest thing to do – but God did it feel good. Kappy had never DM’ed Kasha before in her life. Aberdeen wasn’t even sure Kappy knew who Kasha was even though he met her at the Halloween party. “I might get a phone call later, but it was brilliant.”

“If you get a phone call, I’ll let them know that she said you weren’t hot enough without a nose job,” Kasha said.

“So you heard that?”

“That’s when I came in. The guy was calling your name and so I grabbed the food and lingered.”

Aberdeen smiled. “I love you, bitch.”

“Love you too, bitch.”

***

Message from: Kasperi Kapanen

I heard u ran into Saylor tonite?

Yes

Why did Kasha say I slid into her DMs?

Must have had to do with the fact that Saylor told me I wasn’t pretty enough for any of you to fuck in the bubble unless I got a nose job.

***

minskatt what did saylor say to u tn?

Nothing important because you love my nose and that’s all that matters

can i call u

No I’m with Kasha

minskatt please

It’s fine Willy I don’t care She’s dumb She thinks I’m jealous of her And she told me to stay away from Kappy in the bubble She thinks I want to sleep with him I mean ��

omg

Please don’t worry about it I’ll see you tomorrow

i love u

I love you too I want you to cum down my throat tomorrow Okay?

🥴🥴🥴

***

July 25th, 2020

Aberdeen and William promised each other they would take it slow because they wanted to make the moment last as long as possible.

They were both fully packed. Aberdeen’s suitcase was packed back in her bedroom. A two-month supply of food and cat litter was bought for Minerva so that Kasha wouldn’t have to go get any, just in case the Leafs went all the way (which meant, at the end of August, she’d be getting on a plane to Edmonton, too). She had organized outfits – work and casual. She made sure to bring entertainment. The Louis Vuitton duffel bag they all got her for her birthday definitely came in handy. William had packed some clothes and shoes. Made sure to pack the basic necessities. He’d texted guys on the team to see what they were bringing in so he didn’t forget anything. He wasn’t the best packer.

Now, all that was left was to spend time together before they couldn’t anymore.

William didn’t want to go straight into sex. There was no point. The sex was great but what he wanted, more than anything, was intimacy – to be able to hold Aberdeen and feel her body pressed up against his; to be able to take in her scent as he always did and be calmed by it as he always was; to be able to bury his face in the crook of her neck and graze his lips along her skin there so delicately it made her shiver; to whisper ‘I love you’ over and over again to her while “Quitting You” by the Arkells played on a constantly loop quietly in the background of their time together. This is what he would miss. Florida was different – they were a country away from each other, and it was hard. But to have her working with them, in the same bubble, while everyone was around, on the same floor, and not be able to get her alone, go to her hotel room, even hold her hand? It would be torture.

He laid his head on her chest, hearing and feeling her heart beat as she ran her fingers through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and buried underneath her – he was sure the circulation would cut off soon but he didn’t care. He closed his eyes, and pictured them holding hands. Openly. Aberdeen was smiling. He pulled her into him and kissed her. They were in the team locker room.

“What are you thinking about?” Aberdeen’s soft voice broke the silence.

“You,” he said simply. “Us.”

“What about us?” she asked.

“Holding your hand,” he said. “Kissing you in the locker room.”

When he shifted his head to look up at her, she was smiling. “Do you hate me because we can’t?”

He shook his head. “I could never hate you, minskatt. You know that.”

“It’ll happen soon. I promise,” she said. “You won’t have to do anymore waiting.”

“Shhhh…” he cooed, moving up and nuzzling his nose against her jawline. “I’m not waiting for anything when you’re here with me, am I?” he asked, placing the lightest of kisses on her jawline.

Aberdeen sighed happily. “When I write my first book, I’m dedicating it to you. It’s gonna say ‘For William, for waiting’,” she said with a slight chuckle.

He chuckled too. “I look forward to it. Your second book can be dedicated to Siena or Cam or your parents.”

“Second book? I’m writing a second book, am I?” she smiled.

“Mhm,” he nodded her. “You’re gonna write a bunch of books, minskatt. And they’re all gonna be amazing, and you’ll be all literary or whatever, and everybody’s gonna buy your books.”

Her heart was growing a thousand sizes. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re gonna be a famous writer, minskatt. I’ll just be in the background.”

She curled around and shifted her body into his. Their lips came together tenderly as they began kissing each other, Aberdeen slipping her tongue into William’s mouth easily. His hands wandered down her body to cup her ass before he helped her hook her leg over his torso. They lay kissing for a while until their lips were red and swollen and their breathless gasps the only sound they could hear in the room. When William pulled away quickly to take a breath, Aberdeen shifted to lay on her back. “Willy?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“Minskatt?”

“Make love to me, Willy. One last time before the bubble.”

He picked her up and brought her to his bedroom, setting her down on the bed gently before crawling over her body and continuing their kissing. With some trusty hands, William’s hoodie was off, then Aberdeen’s top, then Aberdeen’s pants, then William’s pants. He kissed down her body, but she pulled him back up. “Willy—”

“Minskatt—”

“I just need to feel you inside me, Willy. Please.”

Somewhat reluctantly, he kissed his way back up her body, paying attention to her breasts for a while before he put on a condom and she wrapped her legs around him and he entered her slowly. Everything was so slow and gentle and intimate, and he’d buried his face into the crook of her neck again to kiss the skin there. When he came back up and looked at her, it was very clear to him that there were tears welling in her eyes. His mind immediately went into overdrive and his body seized up. “Aberdeen? Aberdeen why are you crying?”

“I’m not – no – no no no, it’s not you, it’s not you,” she let out quickly, cupping his face in her hands. His entire body had stopped moving as he hovered over here. She felt a few tears escape down the sides of her eyes, powerless to stop them. “It’s just me. It’s me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You believe in me, Willy.”

“Of course I believe in you. I’ll always believe in you. Where is this coming from?”

“It was Florida. Sixty-one days away from you,” she explained. “Now in the bubble we’re going to be together but we can’t be together, and I want you to know how much I love you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Whatever happens in the bubble, I believe in you and I’ll always believe in you like you believe in me,” she said.

William’s heart panged at her statement. He craned his head to continue to kiss her, and she could feel tears – not her own – on her cheeks as well. His slow and steady movements, passionate and thorough and pleasurable all at once, reminded her of that love they just spoke of. They made love with everything they had in them. And when they climaxed, and William collapsed on top of Aberdeen’s body, she held him close to her, unwilling to let him go.

He shifted slightly to move out of her, but she tightened her legs around him. “No,” she pleaded. “Stay. I want to feel you inside me for as long as possible.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please Willy,” she almost begged, although she knew she wouldn’t have to. “Stay. Let’s just stay like this.”

***

July 26th, 2020

Aberdeen’s family had made it to the staff send-off before they went into the bubble. Camden and Siena came along too. Camden made her a card and gave her a crossword puzzles book he’d bought her at Indigo. When Siena hugged her, she said “Make good choices!” jokingly. Their parents would always say it to them before they got out of the car when they were driven to parties or the like.

If Siena only knew.

Once her family left, Aberdeen had the fantastic tasks of preparing the buses and organizing significant others to be far enough away from each other so everyone was still social distancing. Everybody’s significant other was there, save for the single guys like Auston and (to everyone else) William. As she stood off to the side, she couldn’t help but watch.

Bee McTavish was crying. She wasn’t wailing loudly or anything like that, but Aberdeen could see her glistening cheeks from her tears as Morgan couldn’t stop kissing her and she couldn’t stop wiping her eyes. He looked pretty torn up about leaving her, too. She knew all the guys would be. They were excited to play hockey again but they weren’t too sold on the concept of the bubble. Everyone was going to hate being away from their families – Bee and Morgan were no exception. “Call me whenever you want to,” Aberdeen overheard her tell him. “And if a single thing starts to hurt you please don’t play. You need to be healthy, Morgan.”

Frederik Andersen and Aleida Casillas couldn’t stop kissing, either. Aleida was getting emotional, although Aberdeen knew that Aleida didn’t want to show it. Fred’s new wedding ring glistened in the light. Aberdeen could only imagine what it was like to leave your wife on your one-month anniversary.

Jace was giggling at his dad’s kisses. John had spent the last five minutes holding and kissing his baby boy, with Aryne smiling and cuddling them too. Aberdeen could see Aryne’s small bump peeking out through her t-shirt and realized John was going into the bubble while his wife was pregnant and having to take care of a one-year-old. Her heart ached. She saw the smile on John’s face as he cooed at his son and Jace kept repeating “Dada” over and over again and she could feel a rush of emotion flood her face.

When she saw that Jason had his four girls in a giant bear hug, Aberdeen had to hold in a giant sob. He was crouching down at their level, kissing them all multiple times and whispering things to them as Jen looked on, looking like she was on the verge of tears herself. Jason wouldn’t let them go – couldn’t let them go. Aberdeen had to look away so she didn’t start crying right then and there. It was too much for her to think about.

“You okay, Aberdeen?” Auston’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and she whipped her head towards him.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying not to think about the scenes she just saw. “Do you need me to pack your bag in the bus?” she asked.

“I’m not gonna make you pack my bag, Aberdeen,” he said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Aberdeen looked at Auston, but could only see right past him. Behind him, she could see Kappy and Saylor saying their goodbyes. Saylor was hugging Kappy but giving Aberdeen a death stare. Aberdeen focused her attention back on Auston. “How much does Saylor hate me?” she asked.

Auston shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. I don’t talk to her anymore. But from what I hear, a lot.”

“Good to know. What have you heard? Because she thinks I want to sleep with Kappy.”

Auston smiled. “Something like that.” Aberdeen rolled her eyes playfully, smiling back at Auston. “For what it’s worth, she thinks everybody wants to sleep with Kappy,” Auston said. “You know, because he’s just so good looking.”

“You ready for the bubble?” Saylor’s voice suddenly surprised them from behind Auston. Because of their conversation, they hadn’t seen her approach. Auston jumped slightly. He noticed that Saylor was staring directly at Aberdeen.

“As ready as we can be, I think,” Aberdeen said.

“Just remember what I told you!” Saylor said in a playful tone. “Stay six feet away from my boyfriend!”

“Just for you, Saylor, I’ll make it ten,” Aberdeen winked. “I’ll put a pole between us if that’d what you prefer.”

***

There were cameras everywhere covering their arrival. Naturally, of course, since they were the Toronto Maple Leafs. Aberdeen only hoped that she wasn’t caught in any of the photos. She’d already had enough of a time with her identity and stalkers showing up outside her apartment. She didn’t need people to be lingering outside of the bubble gates for her as well.

They checked in. Everything was eerie. They could only go up the elevators two at a time with their suitcases after they got their welcome packages and key cards. Aberdeen was situated at the first room to the right side of the elevators. The equipment staff, trainers, doctor, and coaches were in the wing as well. Kyle and Brendan had their rooms opposite each other at the very end of the hallway. The social media person was across from her. A few more of the equipment guys were on “her” side of the hallway. To the left of the elevators were the team rooms. William was the second room in, in the middle between Auston and Mitch. Jason was in the middle of the hallway. She knew these things because – as the executive assistant to perhaps the most important executive there – she got a copy of the room allocations and floorplan.

When she walked into her room, it was set up like any normal, swanky hotel room. There was a queen-sized bed and a big, beautiful window that looked directly out onto the CN Tower. The bathroom was big and immaculate. Things were practically shining. She hauled her suitcase onto the bed before going to the window to push the curtains open. If she was going to have a view of the city, she was going to milk it for all it was worth.

When she walked back to her bed, something on the nightstand caught her eye, and she walked over to it. Once she realized what they were, her breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know who was responsible for this. But it made her so emotional. There were three frames with pictures in them, each more sentimental than the last. In the first frame, there was a mashup of two pictures: one of she and Siena when Siena attended the game in Ottawa, and one of she and Camden when Camden visited right before lockdown. The second picture was the group shot of the outdoor practice, where she was freezing her butt off but having the time of her life. The third, and perhaps the one that hit her the most, was a picture from the Night With the Blue and White. In it, she was posing for a picture with Brendan, Jason, and William, with a champagne flute in her hand. Her smile took up half her face.

She let out a sob.

It wasn’t that she looked so happy. It wasn’t that she could still remember the way William smelled that night. It wasn’t how less than ten hours after the picture was taken, she and William had sex and admitted they wanted to be in a secret relationship. It wasn’t that they had followed through with that promise now for months. It was that the picture depicted normalcy. Her job. Brendan. Jason. William. It depicted life before masks, before social distancing, before hand sanitizer being more readily available than water, before lining up outside of grocery stores. It depicted a life that seemed so far in the past. Giant gathering. Group photos. Seeing someone teeth when they smiled. Putting your arms around another person for a hug.

Now, she found herself alone in a hotel room, within an artificially created bubble, for a hockey team, with no physical contact with the outside world. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing.

***

William decided to call Aberdeen. Everybody was holed up in their rooms unpacking everything they bought, and the hotel was eerily quiet for so many people staying in it. He figured it was because the hotel was old, and its walls were solid – none of this new construction, shitty craftsmanship. These building was built by fucking donkeys, as evidence by the photographs in the lobby. Donkeys and stone; so these walls were thick. Some of the boys had checked up on him to make sure his PlayStation set up had gone smoothly. It did. But William could care less.

“Hello?” Aberdeen answered her phone.

He could immediately tell she’d been crying. “What’s wrong, minskatt?”

“These damn pictures they put up in my room,” she admitted immediately – no need to beat around the bush. “They framed the one we took with Jason and Brendan during the Night With the Blue and White.”

William understood completely how and why that would affect her. “Yeah, I get it. They put a bunch of pictures of my family. Well, my parents and my sisters.”

“No Alex?”

“He’s too ugly to be in a picture,” William deadpanned. He heard Aberdeen snort slightly on the other end. He found solace in the fact that he was able to make her laugh. “The pictures really got to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t just that,” she said. “Just seeing all the families say goodbye to each other. I watched John say goodbye to Jace and it made me emotional, but then I saw Jason saying goodbye to his girls and I absolutely lost it,” she revealed. “I kept it together for the bus ride but the second I got in here and saw these pictures, it was, like, a tidal wave.”

“How can I make it better?” William asked. He knew this would be hard on her – being in the bubble – and although he cautioned against it, Aberdeen made her own decision at the end of the day, and he respected that. It didn’t mean the bubble experience would be any better for her, but at least she made the decision herself and she came into it knowing what she was getting herself into. Aberdeen wasn’t a stupid girl. Far from it.

“You wanna just stay on the phone with me? So I can hear your voice?” she asked timidly.

“Of course,” he answered, equally as softly. She could practically see and feel his smile through the phone. “Want to practice your Swedish with me, minskatt?”

***

July 27th, 2020

“A girl?!”

Aberdeen’s ears turned red as she heard the gasp from behind her near the conference room where the Leafs were designated to eat all their meals. She was apparently a novelty. Because they had to stay holed up in their hotel rooms for most of the day, unless it was a pre-planned excursion or meal, she hadn’t seen any other women. It was awful. And now this.

She looked behind her as discreetly as she could. She saw two men – boys – wearing New York Islanders t-shirts staring at her. She recognized them immediately as Mat Barzal and Anthony Beauvillier. She glared at them.

“Is she here delivering the food?”

“She has a badge, you idiot.”

“You’re telling me she works for the team and they brought her into the bubble?”

She wanted to scream at them. But she didn’t have to. Kyle Dubas appeared out of nowhere right beside her, clutching a coffee and a banana. “Miss Bloom,” he greeted her formally, and loud enough so Mat and Anthony could hear. “Shanahan is going to need those CORSI stats for Matthews and Tavares after we eat.” He glanced at them quickly. “Boys,” he nodded a greeting.

They scurried away.

Aberdeen looked at Kyle. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Does Shanny really need those CORSI stats?” she asked.

“No,” Kyle shook his head. “I said that so they wouldn’t fuck with you.”

***

July 28th, 2020

Aberdeen was waiting for the exhibition game to start. Yet again, she was experiencing her second exhibition game for a hockey team she never thought she would work for, let alone for this long. She was in their usual box with Kyle and Brendan, but it felt different. No fans. No other personnel. The only other people around were the extra players sitting in the seats below them. The media was around somewhere, but nowhere near her. The boys were warming up on the ice.

“You okay?” Brendan asked as he looked at her.

Aberdeen nodded. “Are you?”

“As okay as I can be,” he shrugged. “I don’t get nervous about exhibition games.”

“Did you think I’d be here long enough for two sets of exhibition games?” Aberdeen asked, wiggling her eyebrows slightly.

He huffed, giving her a joking look. She began giggling. “To be honest…no.”

“Yeah, me neither. Don’t worry.”

***

Thirty-three seconds into the first period, Ilya Mikheyev scored off a pass from John Tavares that Aberdeen had seen one hundred times in training camp. She smiled wide.

Hockey was back.

163 notes · View notes

marrys-dream-world · 3 years

Text

if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter seven)

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Notes: I know I'm late, family things. Don't worry, I'm not gonna abandon this story or anything, I swear. Even after ladynoir july ends, I'm still gonna post. Day 7: Height Difference. @ladynoirjuly

Ladybug knew she was short.

As soon as she started growing, the doctors had warned her parents that she might not do much more of that. After all, she inherited her mother’s body type, so she would never get to a height even close to her father’s towering frame. That’s why Marinette was static when she grew taller than her mother, at least she knew she would not stay that short. There was hope for her, still, so maybe the doctors could be wrong, it wasn’t an exact science, anyway. It's not like her friends remind her of it, not since she kicked Kim in the stomach when he called her shorty at the age of seven. They were mature enough, now, to not need to fall back on jabs at her height.

Unless you were, of course, Chat Noir.

It all started on a relatively grumpy day. Adrien Agreste, the love of her life, had gotten a very noticeable growth spurt. As she had gotten to class surprisingly early (five minutes before the bell rang!!), she was putting her stuff away on the desk when he came in and was alerted by Nino's loud gasp.

"Dude!" He shouted, attracting the attention of their entire class. "You shot up!"

"Haha, yeah, a little." Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck and turning slightly red. "Happened over the weekend."

Everyone started to congratulate him good-naturedly, Lila suddenly materializing by his side and clinging to his arm in a way that made Marinette's blood boil. Fortunately, Ms. Bustier showed up and sent them to their respective seats. Marinette wondered if she imagined the relieved slump of Adrien's shoulders. During class, she had been unable to fully pay attention, this new development eating her up inside. Before, she had been perfectly positioned to stare into his green eyes furtively, but now? Her crammed up neck would call too much attention to her. So she spent the rest of the day grumpy, deprived of her daily dose of Agreste’s big greens.

However, when she arrived at their patrol site with a strained “hey, Chat” and got no response, curiosity overwhelmed her annoyance.

“Chat?” She tried again, shaking his shoulder. He glanced at her, stance casual.

“Oh, sorry, my lady.” He said nonchalant and she would have almost believed him if not for the mischievous glint in his green eyes. “Didn’t see you down there.”

Her face matched the color of her suit. “Excuse me?!”

“Having a bad day, bugaboo?” Chat Noir asked, a full smirk now blossoming on his face. “The weather too bad down there?”

She growls at him and he, wisely, jumps away, starting patrol.

Since then, Chat Noir didn’t miss a chance to take a shot at her. Resting his arm on her head, pretending he didn’t see her coming, ruffling her hair and many more. When they fought Sole Crusher, Chloé’s akumatized sister (being akumatized was a side effect of meeting her, unfortunately, at least that was the most parisian experience she could get on her first day), he would joke about how much harder it would be for the akuma catch her instead of the “normal-sized people”.

Everytime she would punch him in the closest place she could hit, just a symbolic one (she wouldn’t ever hut him), and then she had to mask the wave of fondness that washed over her as he pretended it was painful and said a “geez, bugaboo, not even Shadow Moth hits this hard, working out too much?”. At school, though, she had other problems.

“Is everything okay, Marinette?” Adrien asked her, looking down at her during the break between math and chemistry.

“You’re more than okay- I mean, I'm not okay, no, argh. I’m fine, why?” Marinette stammered, trying to not think about how she was at the perfect height to hide her blushing face in his chest.

“You keep looking up at me. Is your neck hurting? Or is something in my hair?”

“Yeah! That's it!”

He frowned. "It 's what?”

“It’s, er, there’s something in your hair!” She lifted her hand to his hair (so! soft!) and ran through it a few times before taking it out. “There, now it’s fine.”

“Thanks, Marinette.” Adrien smiled genuinely and she bit back a gooey sigh. “What was it? In my hair?”

“Just a bug.” She squeaked out, pathetically, but Adrien’s eyes were still soft (fond?), so maybe she didn’t make a complete fool of herself.

Between the two of them, there was no way she could get more distracted, was what she was thinking. Famous last words.

It was a Sentimonster with, weirdly enough, no akuma. She hated when he surprised her like that, a new dog learning old tricks. Shadow Moth was usually someone very simple-minded, throwing akumas and sentimonster duos at them with glaring exceptions like Heroes Day. Having a sentimonster with no akuma implied him using new strategies and she didn't appreciate it at all. The Sentimonster, which Chat Noir named Mr. Octi, was a purple giant octopus had sticky tentacles which were impossible to escape.

I'm sorry. Ladybug thought to the civilians caught up in him. Mr. Octi's creepy smile didn't change no matter how much they screamed.

Distracted as she was, she would have been caught in a purple tentacle if not for the black-clad body that slammed into her and brought her down to a rooftop. Chat Noir turned them around as they hit the concrete, leaving her on top of him.

"Be careful, Ladybug!" He said, carefully cradling her to his chest.

Even if the suit absorbs most of the impact, she would have winced in sympathy, normally. However, Ladybug had her face pressed into a strong chest as her frantic partner asked if she was okay and stroked her hair. They were strangely aligned, their feet touching and his arms wrapped around her. He smelled fresh (kinda like Adrien the fragrance, actually) and felt warm.

This is nice. She thought, dazed. Maybe Chat Noir wasn't freakishly tall. Maybe… I fit nice here, I think.

"Ladybug?!" His desperate voice broke her out of her trance and she pulled off him like a lightning bolt struck her. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Great. Dandy." She threw him finger guns and he looked even less convinced. "It's not important! We need to stop the Sentimonster."

When they defeated Mr. Octi and he insisted on checking on her head, it took all her self control to not hide her face on his chest.

It was unfair that Chat Noir of all people was the perfect height for hugging.

#ladynoir #ladynoirjuly #ladynoirjuly2021 #ladybug #chat noir #ml fic #my stuff #if we're bound to be something why not together

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Chapter 58: Jon Prime

Eleven months. Eleven months since Jon had come back in time, since he’d knocked on Tim’s door, since he’d had Martin in his arms again. Eleven months of regrouping, of planning, of worrying and fearing and hoping in equal measures. Eleven months, almost to the day, to the minute. All of it leading to this.

It was worth it for the look on Elias’s face when he spun around to face him.

In the entire time Jon had worked for the Institute, and especially since taking the Archivist position, he had never once seen Elias anything but calmly, coolly, smugly in control. Occasionally angry, although he’d more heard that than seen it when he listened to the tapes much later, but still, whatever emotions he might have been feeling, his bearing had always suggested that he held the upper hand and knew it. Now, though, there was none of that in his expression. For the first time Jon had ever seen, Elias Bouchard looked as though the situation had got away from him somewhat. His eyes—Jonah’s eyes—were wide with alarm, his jaw was slack, and even if he didn’t look afraid—yet—he was definitely at the very least taken aback. It was a start.

“Jon? What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You should be—” He stopped and inhaled sharply as he scanned Jon’s face, probably noticing the worm scars if not how much more grey was in his hair than his counterpart’s. “You’re not Jon.”

“Oh, but I am,” Jon replied. He was keeping his powers in check, but barely; he could feel the static building in his veins, thrumming and crackling like electricity through a power grid, and while he wanted to unleash it on the man before him, he couldn’t just yet. It was too much of a risk with Martin so close. “Just not the Jon you think I am.”

“What—no.” Jonah—there was no doubt it was Jonah Magnus regarding him now—turned pale. “You’re not—no. How can this be? Tell me!”

Jon tsked. “That was never your gift, Jonah. Compelling people. The Eye gave you the ability to pry, to pluck secrets out of heads and put secrets in…but you don’t get to ask for them, do you? You are no Archivist.”

There was definitely a part of him that was enjoying this more than he should. It wasn’t the power over Jonah he thrilled to—he’d never been the megalomaniac sort—but he definitely relished not being the one at a disadvantage for once. He’d spent years as little more than a pawn in Jonah’s game, and it was refreshing to be, if not a queen, at the very least a knight. It was satisfying more than anything.

But satisfaction wasn’t the goal. Victory was.

Jonah pulled himself together and drew himself up. Jon had to give him some credit—it obviously cost him a good deal of effort, both mental and physical. Martin had thrown him for a loop, probably several times, and then Jon had appeared from behind and totally disorientated him. Beyond that, Jon had seen, when he crept up behind him, the large dark stain surrounding the tear on the back of his usually immaculate charcoal suit. Melanie may have only pretended to actually try and kill him, but she’d certainly done a number on him anyway.

“Jon, I do not have time for these games,” he began.

“On the contrary. We have all the time in the world.” Jon took a half-step back and to the side, away from both the soft part in the wall that led, more or less, to the Institute and the tunnel where Sasha and Melanie had secreted themselves.

As he’d hoped, Jonah took the bait, taking a full step towards him and away from Martin. He had two inches on Jon and obviously intended to use them to the utmost effect in an attempt to intimidate and cow Jon. It was the same thing he’d done after the Apocalypse, when he’d stood over Jon and belittled him, making him shrink in on himself and bow under the weight of his own folly and shortcomings, highlighted all the places where it had been Jon’s decisions that led to that point.

Things were different now. Jon knew himself, he knew what his capabilities were as well as his limitations. And just as importantly, he had the evidence of his own eyes when he looked at Past Jon. Yes, Jon had made choices that led to the Apocalypse, but they’d been made with the limited information he had—information that had been limited because of Jonah. When he had all the data, he made much better decisions. Knowing, as they said, was half the battle.

In this case, perhaps, Knowing was all the battle.

Jon spared a quick glance for Martin. His smirk was almost a match for Jon’s own, and his eyes sparkled in a way Jon hadn’t seen in a long time. He stood tall and confident, shoulders squared and chin raised, and he still had a tight grip on the knife Melanie had pressed into his hand. He was also still far too close to Jon and Jonah, and not near enough to where he needed to be.

“Martin, get back. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he told him.

“Really, Jon, I don’t know what you think is going to happen,” Jonah said stiffly. “Whatever the issue is, we can settle it like gentlemen.”

“Ha!” Melanie’s disgusted laugh floated from the side. Jon looked over quickly to see her and Sasha crouched right in the entrance of the tunnel they’d found him in, arms linked tightly. Melanie’s other hand had a death grip on the rough stone of the tunnel’s arch. Jon knew exactly why. He’d heard the near-ethereal music, too, followed it down the tunnel, and realized the stone was ringing faintly with the tune from Denikin’s Calliophone, as though it were one of the pipes of the organ. If Sasha and Melanie hadn’t tumbled into him and told him they were ready for him, there was no telling how far he might have gone. Or how lost he might have been.

Something flickered over Martin’s face, but he did as Jon requested, taking three careful steps backwards until his heels hit the edge of the tower at the center of the Panopticon. He reached out with his free hand and steadied himself against it, then nodded once.

Jon stole another half-pace backwards, luring Jonah a little farther away from the others. “Settle this like gentlemen? You must be joking. What exactly do you think is going to happen? That you’re going to convince me to—to walk away from this? To just let it go?”

“You walked away from the Unknowing,” Jonah said tartly. “You left Tim alone to it with two people who, I am sure, could not possibly care less whether he lives or dies. And despite this—” He ran his eye over Jon’s face disdainfully. “—this getup, we both know that you walked away from Jane Prentiss and left Martin alone to her.”

Oh. That was a low blow. Jon stiffened, his rage nearly choking him. Despite knowing that it wasn’t true—that it hadn’t been true in either timeline—just the fact that Jonah would look him in the eye and even imply that he was the sort to abandon his people was enough to leave him momentarily speechless. And the fact that Jonah believed, or pretended to believe, that Jon would abandon Martin of all people…

He was about to explode, to start yelling, to reach out and strangle Jonah Magnus with his bare hands, when Martin started laughing. It was somewhere between the way he’d laughed when Jon had floated the idea of gouging their eyes out and running away together and the way he’d laughed when they’d been playing I Spy in the tombs. He sounded both incredulous and amused.

“You still have no idea, do you?” he said. “You still think you know what’s going on. This must really be embarrassing for you. Having to wait for an explanation.”

It was the last word that did it for Jon, grounding him and enabling him to recenter himself. Even if Martin’s voice hadn’t been enough, the reminder was. Once upon a time that no longer was, Jonah Magnus had forced Jon to monologue for him, forced him to recite his deeds and his plan before using him as a tool to trigger the end of the world. He had manipulated Jon at every turn, and then manipulated him once more at the end. And that was exactly what he was trying to do here. He was trying to goad Jon into doing something rash, into lashing out at him and tipping his hand too far.

He still thought he could win.

Jon didn’t take a deep breath; he wouldn’t give Jonah the satisfaction of knowing he’d rattled him. But he did square his shoulders and let his lips curl into a sneer. “I know you can’t look into my head, Jonah. But can’t you guess? Even if your master won’t give you the answers, can’t you even attempt to figure them out on your own?”

Anger flashed in Jonah’s cold grey eyes, and Jon knew he’d scored another point. There would be no grading of this exam—it was strictly pass/fail—but the more he could build things up on his side, the easier it would be. He hoped. “Don’t prevaricate, Jon. This is hardly the time. Either tell me what you think you are doing, or allow me to get back to watching the people you should be watching.”

“The Jonathan Sims you employ is at the Unknowing,” Jon told him coldly. “Along with the Martin Blackwood you employ. I was that Jonathan Sims, once, but not now. I am from the future, Jonah Magnus. A future that is not and will never be.”

“If you are trying to make a joke—”

Jon ran the backs of two fingers over his cheek, indicating the worm scars. “Jane Prentiss, twenty-sixth July, 2016.” He touched his side. “The Distortion, otherwise known as Michael, second October, 2016.” He held out his right hand, palm outward, and notched another point in his credit when Jonah flinched, almost imperceptibly. “Jude Perry, twenty-fourth April, 2017.”

Jonah’s eyes widened—and then, not entirely to Jon’s surprise, a slow smile crossed his face. “The Corruption, the Spiral, the Desolation. And that scar at your throat—yes, I saw that. The Slaughter?”

“The Hunt. Daisy Tonner, twenty-eighth April, 2017.” Jon pulled aside the collar of Martin’s sweater—not the green one he’d worn since Martin wrapped him in it for comfort after he ended the world or the soft blue one that Martin wore more often than any other because Jon had complimented him on it without thinking long before either of them knew they would end up together, but the slightly lopsided red one that was Jon’s new favorite, because it was the one Martin had patiently worked on while Jon read statements to feed himself, the one that was proof he didn’t really need to be able to see to knit. “This is the Slaughter. Melanie King, twenty-fifth February, 2018.” He let the collar fall back into place and smoothed it out carefully. “The others don’t show.”

“But you have them all.” Jonah’s smile broadened. “It worked. The ritual was a success, and you came back…thinking you could stop me.”

“Well done, Jonah,” Jon said, in the same voice one might otherwise use with a child who had successfully tied his own shoes for the first time. “That’s all absolutely correct.”

“Oh, Jon.” Jonah’s voice took on an almost pitying tone. “And you thought telling me that would mean…what, exactly? You think it won’t work now? That you’ve warned your—counterpart, and now he can escape it? He has three marks already, at least.”

Behind Jonah’s shoulder, Martin silently held up his free hand, displaying all five fingers. Jon swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as he realized Martin was right. Apart from the two he’d had before they arrived—the Web and the Eye—and being stabbed by and later traveling through the halls of the Distortion, Past Jon had been kidnapped and essentially tortured by the Stranger, and his encounter with Julia and Trevor in America was probably enough to give him a mark from the Hunt.

“And even if he escapes,” Jonah continued, oblivious to what was going on behind him, “there are still the others. Even knowing, it’s unavoidable, Jon. Fear comes for us all, in whatever guise it wishes, and the Institute is a lure many of them cannot resist. They will be marked, and when they are—”

“No,” Jon interrupted, and this time he let the static crackle through his voice. “They may be marked, Jonah Magnus, but it will not be to your advantage. This ends here.”

Jonah sneered, but Jon had already seen the flash of fear in his eyes. “You think you’ve learned enough to stop me? I have two hundred years of experience and Knowledge. What do you bring to the table? A few tricks? This cheap attempt at intimidation? You cannot overpower me, Jon. Not now when I can see my triumph within my grasp. Thwart me, and I will simply find another.”

“Oh, no.” Jon took another diagonal step, turning his shoulders as he did so; as he expected, Jonah followed him. “There will be no one else. Not from you. Never again.”

“How, exactly, do you intend to stop me?” Jonah demanded, drawing himself up.

Jon snorted. “I had considered taking you out the way you took out one of the others. I considered shooting you. Like you did to Gertrude.” He swallowed hard. “And Martin.”

“I never—ah.” Jonah’s unpleasant smile smeared across his face again. “Yes, I suppose that would be quite effective in slowing you down, wouldn’t it? If I were to—take him out, shall we say?” He slipped one hand under his jacket.

“You don’t have it with you,” Jon said with contempt. “I don’t even need the Eye to know that. If you had brought your gun, you wouldn’t have bothered trying to get into Martin’s head. Not once you were down here. After all…” He waved one hand around the room. “Who would be here to witness? Only the Eye.”

“Perhaps I think he’s too useful to kill,” Jonah said.

Jon curled one hand into a fist and fought back the anger and nausea the way Jonah’s voice curled around the word useful brought up. He had to keep it together. Had to keep this going. “I could have beaten you to death, too. Like you did Jurgen Leitner. And framed me for.”

Again he took a half-step back, rotating slightly this time, and again Jonah followed. Jon glanced at Sasha, her eyes glittering with excitement and interest even from that distance, and raised his eyebrows in silent question. She nodded once. Jon blinked his acknowledgment and swiftly returned his gaze to Jonah. He’d managed it right. He now had the tunnel to the Institute at his back and the Panopticon at his front. He was directly between the two access points for the Beholder. He had Jonah exactly where he wanted him.

“Jurgen Leitner?” Jonah repeated. “That pompous ass?”

Martin and Melanie’s snorts were nearly identical. Jon didn’t bother to repress his smirk. “He’s living in those tunnels, you know. Has been for years. He used to help Gertrude out, too. He was going to tell me some of those details you thought my counterpart didn’t know, and I wasn’t knowledgeable enough to shield my thoughts enough that you didn’t know I was talking to someone. You slipped in while I was out of my office, tormented him the same way you did Gertrude, and beat him to death with a length of pipe. Left the body there. Of course Daisy thought I’d done it.”

“It would have been quite difficult for me to use you if you were in prison.”

“Oh, you made it clear that you didn’t actually think I’d done it. But you certainly brought me to Daisy’s attention. Dangled me in front of her. You knew she would come after me eventually, knew it would mark me. You used her as much as you used the rest of us, long before she joined the Institute.” Jon met Jonah’s eyes. It was far easier than it had ever been before. “Never again, Jonah. I will never allow you to use anyone for your evil purpose again. You don’t deserve the power you want to wield.”

“You could join me, you know,” Jonah offered.

Jon almost choked. “What?”

“Join me,” Jonah said again, and if Jon thought for a minute that Elias Bouchard was the type, he’d have expected the next sentence to be something along the lines of Together we can rule the galaxy as father and son. “You’ve seen the world, Jon. The world we created, in your time. You know how very beautiful it can be. Rulers together of a forsaken world. Overseers of all. Imagine it. You could choose who lived and died. Control how much suffering was inflicted on those who suffered. You know what that fear feels like when it flows through you…imagine controlling it, drinking the whole world. I know you wouldn’t be here if you had had that power. You would never have wanted to leave it.” He spread his hands out invitingly towards Jon. “We would live forever. Imagine it, Jon. It would be so easy, and so rewarding. All you need to do…is say the words.”

Martin’s face went white as a sheet. Those freckles that hadn’t been bleached to pale shadows by the Lonely stood out clearer than Jon had seen them in ages, and his lips parted slightly. The naked fear in his sightless eyes was almost physically painful. He was scared, worse than he’d been in a long time.

And something seemed to tighten around Jon’s wrist.

Martin knew Jon better than anybody in the universe, maybe better than Jon even knew himself. He knew how close to the edge Jon had been at times, how close he’d come to succumbing to the Eye and becoming its conduit. How hard Jon had fought to keep from becoming like Jude Perry, like Mike Crew, like Jared Hopworth. And he knew just how hard Jon was tempted at times to give in, how much Jon wanted to know what would happen if he did. How tired he got sometimes of the constant daily struggle. He alone, out of anybody, knew that there was a part of Jon that wanted to say yes.

But not enough of one. Not nearly enough of one. There was no temptation in the world strong enough to lure him away from Martin, nothing in the universe he wanted more than to spend whatever time he was granted with the man he loved. Martin had promised to kill him if he ever came close to agreeing to what Jonah was proposing, and Jon had sworn to himself then and there that he would never force Martin to make that call. He knew that Martin would never be able to live with himself if he did. And Jon loved him too much to hurt him that way if there was any other option.

But Martin couldn’t see his face. For all he knew, Jon was seriously considering the offer. Jon would have to reassure him.

“If you think,” he said, “for one moment that I would agree to that knowing what it would mean, you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought you were. And that, Jonah Magnus, is saying something.”

Martin drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes for a brief moment, then seemed to relax. Jonah’s smile melted away. He opened his mouth to say something. Jon didn’t give him the chance. “I have seen your ‘forsaken world’, and I have seen what it cost everyone who lived in it. I have felt the pain and suffering of those within it, and I know that there is no one, Watched or Watcher, who escaped that pain and suffering. Even those who thought they wanted it, in the end, found they did not. Even you would have learned that, sooner or later.” He narrowed his eyes at Jonah. “And I would sooner gouge my own eyes out, here and now, than share any kind of power with you.”

Jon again saw the cold, pale fury in Jonah’s eyes that he had last seen when Martin defied him after the Apocalypse, but this time it didn’t go away. “That can be arranged.”

“I don’t think so.” Jon felt the static building up again, and this time, he didn’t try to hold it back. “Your time has come.”

Power thrummed through his veins. It was the way he’d felt when facing down the Not-Them both times, when he’d struck down Jared Hopworth, when he’d caught hold of Helen’s lie, but somehow it was stronger. Again he felt that tightening around his wrist, and he could feel a power flowing through that as well, fueling him, giving him strength and courage.

“For two hundred years, you have sat atop your ivory tower and pretended to rule,” he said. The words came easily, leading Jon to wonder if he was saying them or the Ceaseless Watcher was. “You have set yourself up as a god among men, and you have believed yourself to be untouchable. You have manipulated and pulled and lured, and through it all, you have believed yourself to be endearing yourself to your master. But It Knows You, and it Knows that it is not fear you have feasted on all these years, merely power over others. You have desired only your own ends and served no one but yourself.”

He was aware of an echo to his voice, as though someone else was speaking the words with him. At first he thought it was just that, an echo, or maybe the Beholder resonating through him, but he recognized the second voice for what it was at about the same moment Jonah’s eyes widened, and the fear in them wasn’t fleeting. It was Gertrude Robinson’s voice joining Jon’s, maybe prompting him, maybe lending her power to his. Maybe it was just a manifestation of his power after all, enhancing Jonah’s fear.

Jon could taste that fear. It was exhilarating and intoxicating. Whatever was around his wrist seemed to tighten further, reminding him that it was there, reminding him of what he was trying to do. Keeping him grounded. In that instant, Jon recognized it as a manifestation of his bond to Martin, the one Annabelle Cane had enhanced, and it gave him a renewed sense of conviction.

“Two hundred years of pain and death and misery,” he continued, “and all of it spent running from your own fears. Know now that Fear has come for you, Jonah Magnus. You cannot escape it and you cannot run from it.”

“No—no—no,” Jonah gasped, backing away from Jon, or trying to. “J-Jon, please—”

“For our Tim,” Jon snarled, and Gertrude Robinson’s voice and all their combined power joined in with him. “For our Sasha, and for Gertrude Robinson, and for all the others you have killed and trapped and harmed. For my Martin. For every life you took, every dream you destroyed, every ounce of pain and fear you inflicted on others—let it all be turned back on you tenfold. Feel it all, and for the first time in your life, Jonah Magnus, you will truly Know.”

“Jon—please—I don’t want to die,” Jonah begged.

“Neither did they.” Jon raised his voice and felt his hair stand on end. “Ceaseless Watcher, turn your gaze upon this miserable, pathetic, wretched thing!”

The light in the room flashed as though struck by lightning, but a brilliant, blazing green, coming from both directions and centered directly on Jonah Magnus, who began to scream. Jon felt the fear slam into him, filling him near to bursting, thrumming through his veins and body like he’d simultaneously grabbed hold of a live electrical wire and tried to drink from a fire hose like a straw. Either Elias Bouchard’s body was shrinking or Jon had grown, or perhaps he was merely floating above the floor, but whatever the case, he was now looking down on the man from above.

In the exact same instant, Martin lunged forward and, with a roar of satisfaction and an accuracy that Jon Knew would not have been possible without their bond, drove the knife with both hands into the heart of Jonah Magnus’s body.

Elias’s scream rose to a fever pitch, joined by more voices—six, if Jon was any judge: the screams of the other five men Jonah Magnus murdered to extend his life, and the scream of the original Jonah Magnus himself, a dry, dusty sort of scream, desperate and frightened and pained. The green light flared up and filled the room in a blinding, soundless explosion—

—and then, suddenly, it was gone, leaving a vacuum of silence and the ruins of a prison guard tower.

Jon’s feet hit the ground—so he had been floating after all—and he stumbled slightly. Where Elias Bouchard had been, there was nothing but a scorch mark on the stone, and Martin was half-kneeling in the center of the guard tower, knife still in hand, but nothing remaining of Jonah Magnus’s original body but a scattering of dust.

Martin blinked twice, dropped the knife, and got to his feet, turning unerringly in Jon’s direction. “Jon?” he called.

“Martin,” Jon choked out. He reached out his hands desperately for Martin, wanting to hold him close, to tell him they’d done it, that they were safe, that it was over, that it had worked. That Jonah Magnus was dead and would never harm anyone else again. That they had won.

That he loved him, so very, very much.

He made it no more than a couple of steps before his strength failed him and he pitched forward, gasping. Two strong arms caught him and pulled him close. The last thing Jon heard was Martin desperately, frantically screaming his name.

And then everything went black.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #smiting #intimidation tw #manipulation tw #belittling tw #stabbing tw #mention of murder (inc. brutal pipe murder)#we're so close to the end y'all #I can't believe it

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girlboss-molina · 3 years

Text

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 3: A Demonstrative Lesson in Simping

AO3 Link

Words: 12.8k

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Alex POV

...

It had been a week, and Alex hadn’t seen Willie since that fateful night when he’d earned the nickname “your royal pancakeness.” It was probably better that way, to be honest. The way Willie moved, everything about him, the energy that surrounded him, it made Alex feel weird and fluttery. If his anxious reading through the random romance novels on the bookshelf in his room, plus his constant googling of “do I have a crush” quizzes (on incognito tabs, obviously; treason wasn’t very high on his bucket list) said anything about his current situation, though, he was royally screwed.

No pun intended.

It didn’t help, either, that every time he thought about the baker’s smile, his long hair, the way his dark eyes crinkled at the edges when he laughed, a shiver ran down Alex’s spine. It was so confusing. How the hell could he have a crush on someone he barely knew?

He dragged a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. Laying on the floor and questioning his existence had become a daily occurrence, oftentimes - like today - with Luke by his side.

“Emotions are the bane of my existence,” he said plaintively, not bothering to look away from the high ceilings, letting the flecks of dust in the air blend in with the tiny spots in his vision after not blinking for so long. “Like,” he continued, “how is it logical that a couple little zaps to the brain can make your stomach drop, or make your palms sweat, or even a week after something happened, still make you feel cold and warm at the same time?”

He wasn’t sure if the question was meant to be rhetorical, but he was still grateful for Luke’s reply, however unhelpful it may turn out to be.

“Bro, I don’t know,” he agreed. “Like, one minute you’re fine, and the next you’re about to accidentally commit treason.” Alex let out a dry laugh.

“Tell me about it.” A few moments passed, and he blinked, finally letting new moisture clear his vision. “Also, called it.”

“Wh-” Luke started, clearing his throat. “What do you mean, ‘called it?’”

“You like Julie?” Alex assumed, ignoring the swelling bubble of treasonous worry in his stomach. “I might’ve overthought every possible aspect of this, and your comment about accidental treason confirmed what I already thought.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luke drag a hand down his face, heard him groan.

“I barely know her,” he started, “but I’m already so… I don’t even know the word. Intrigued? Infatuated? In-something.” Alex nodded, letting his head smack back down on the carpet. “I’m sorry,” he added.

“Why?”

“I can only imagine how much this must be on your anxiety, and this doesn’t help.”

“It doesn’t, but it’s not the first bit of accidental treason.” His eyes finally flicked away from their spot on the ceiling as Luke bolted upright.

“No way,” he said. “Who?” Alex’s cheeks flushed. Before he could respond, though, Luke spoke again. “Wait, let me get this straight. Well, gay. You’ve liked a guy for an entire week, and you didn’t tell me? This is a betrayal of our friendship!” Alex knew he was being dramatic.

“You say that as if you didn’t do the exact same thing,” he countered. Luke considered that for a moment.

“Whatever. Okay, details.”

“His name’s Willie,” he said. “He’s a baker down at the kitchens behind the grand hall.” Alex saw a huge grin spread on Luke’s face, but couldn’t bring himself to share his friend’s ever-blooming optimism. He sighed. “Do you think there’s a way to go through with the marriage but like, platonically? Like, just tell the people ‘yeah we’re getting married, just not romantically.’ I just think that would work out better for everybody.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Luke said. “Not sure how it would work out, but I agree.”

“On the plus side, being criminals automatically makes us at least 50% cooler.”

“Dude, aren’t you the one with anxiety?”

“I have my moments.”

A familiar knock rang on the door. How, in one week, it had become so familiar, they would never know. But as Alex told Reggie to come in, his infectious smile permeated through the room like the smell of vanilla on a cold day.

“Did I hear something about treason?” he asked excitedly. “Because I am always down. Tell your friends; you need a treason buddy, I’m your guy. But of course, for legal reasons, that’s a joke.” Alex snorted.

Reggie had managed to weasel his way into both his and Luke’s hearts in a matter of days. He was so sweet, so loving, and such a dork, how could he not? Luke’s interactions with Reggie reminded Alex of two best friends who supported each other unconditionally. Alex’s own interactions with the princess’s brother? They were more like bantering siblings who loved each other so much, but were not above toilet-papering the other’s room.

“Well,” Luke began, “the arranged marriage was already a major fuck-up on the council’s decision. We could add in some treason to the mix. Just for funsies.”

“You just want to hang out with Julie, don’t you?” Alex prodded. Luke flushed, and Reggie grinned.

“Called it.”

“Oh come on, you too?”

“Dude,” Reggie said. “I love you, but you’re not exactly subtle.” Luke pouted, and Alex cracked up. “You, on the other hand,” Reggie added, “I’m not sure who your treasonous crush is.”

“A baker named Willie,” Luke interjected before Alex could reply. “And I still haven’t heard the story of how you met, I might add.” Alex groaned.

“I assume there’s no way I’m getting out of this?”

“Not a chance,” Luke and Reggie replied in unison.

This was going to be a disaster.

…

After explaining the details of how he met Willie, and enduring multiple agonizing minutes of Reggie and Luke gushing about an “adorable, treasonous meet-cute,” Alex finally prodded Luke for details about his feelings for Julie.

“Uh, well, it’s not really feelings, plus, I doubt Reggie wants to hear about hypothetical feelings someone might have for his sister.”

“Wrong,” Reggie said. “I want to know everything.” Alex laughed.

“See, I would explain, but the self-defense class starts in a minute-”

“Thirty,” Reggie corrected.

“Like I said, it starts in a minute, so I’d better run.” Without another word, he bolted out the door.

“You can’t keep running from your feelings forever,” Alex called to Luke.

“No, but I can run from you two goons!” Alex and Reggie couldn’t contain their laughter by that point, so they let that simp of a man get out of it for a little while.

…

After hanging out with Reggie in the recording studio, Alex was walking down the corridor behind the great hall, for old time’s (a week ago) sake, pacing back and forth. He didn’t actually know what he would do if someone asked why the prince was pacing the hallway near the kitchens for no apparent reason, but what happened was simultaneously both better and worse, because who would he run into (thankfully not literally this time) but a familiar brown-eyed man with a crooked smile.

“Hey there, your royal pancakeness!” He called, and oh, how Alex wished Willie didn’t have such an endearing smile.

“Hey, Willie!” He ignored the butterflies rising in his stomach. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good! Just got on break. You okay?” He asked, a flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Alex assured him. “Just walking.”

“Cool.”

Alex tried not to stare, but Willie made it impossible. The way he flipped his long hair, the way his dark eyes sparkled with flecks of gold in the light, how his smile lit up every time he spoke. The adorable smudge of flour on his nose didn’t help, either.

“You sure?” Willie asked, the faint flicker of concern right back to the furrow in his eyebrows. “You look a little dazed.”

Yeah, that’s because you’re gorgeous and I already have a crush on you despite only meeting you once.

“Just a little tired, I guess.” The lie was a classic one, and Willie could surely see through the bullshit, but if he did, he didn’t prod.

“Well, make sure you get some sleep tonight. In the meantime, I’m off to skate a little. You wanna come?”

Skating? There was a 100% chance that Alex would fall flat on his ass and humiliate himself. He’d never once been on a skateboard, at least, not since he’d sprained his wrist when he was seven, and his mother had banned all skateboards from the palace. And yet, the adorable look in Willie’s eyes still had Alex saying, “I’d love too.” He mentally kicked himself, but that annoyance was quickly replaced with another swarm of butterflies when Willie’s smile lit up even brighter than before.

“Sick! Follow me.”

…

The skate park wasn’t technically a skate park by any means. It was an actual park, hidden away in the vast garden grounds of Dahlia, and it really said something about the size of the palace grounds that Alex didn’t even know it was there.

Concrete sidewalks lined the perimeter, with swirling roundabouts at the corners, plus unoccupied metal benches and sliding railings that Willie didn’t hesitate to jump over. He even did a move where he jumped and the skateboard did a flip, before landing right back on it, steady as ever. But when Alex watched him let out a whoop and skate quickly around the roundabout as it sloped, not losing his balance once, he was sure Willie was just showing off.

Alex did his best to cool his blushing face as Willie made his way back.

“Want to try?” He asked.

“Oh, no,” he deflected. “I’ve never actually skateboarded before, and I’m pretty sure I’d just look stupid.”

“You’ve never skated before?”

“Not once.” He knew it was technically a lie, because he’d skated once when he was seven but that didn’t really count, but it still wasn’t true and what if Willie found out about the lie and hated him for being dishonest and what if he seemed like a bitch for lying about something so miniscule and-

“Well, there’s an easy way to fix that,” Willie said with a grin, making all of Alex’s previous anxieties melt away. They were, of course, quickly replaced with new ones because cute boy, but still.

Before Alex knew it, Willie was extending his hand and stepping off the skateboard, that beautiful, crooked smile still plastered on his gorgeous face. And then, despite the voice in the back of his head, screaming to play it safe, he listened to the whisper, barely audible, telling him to go for it. So, before he could change his mind, he took Willie’s hand. It was rough and calloused, with a few scars peppered on his fingers, but it was perfect. Slowly, tentatively, he stepped onto the skateboard, and…

Immediately fell flat on his ass. Or, he would have, had Willie not been quicker and run behind him, catching him by the shoulders with a laugh. Alex’s cheeks did their best to catch fire, and he immediately apologized.

“No, bro, you’re good! Just glad I caught you,” Willie said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, only just noticing how long Willie’s eyelashes were. He wasn't sure if he imagined it when Willie’s cheeks looked darker the longer he stared. Alex cleared his throat.

“Okay, let’s try this again.” Willie outstretched his hand again, and this time, Alex didn’t hesitate before taking it. He took a deep breath, grounding himself before stepping onto the skateboard, squeezing the other man’s hand and using him for support.

“I did it!” he exclaimed, very excitedly, considering all he’d done was step onto an immobile skateboard. But Willie shared his excitement.

“Hell yeah, dude! Want me to push you so you move?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Understandable, have a nice day.” Alex and Willie stared at each other, deadpan, before bursting out laughing. But, because the universe hated him, Alex fell forwards, right on top of Willie, chests pressed together and noses barely apart.

He tried to move, but he was too caught up in how fucking close they were. Willie had caught himself, leaning backwards but standing, and somehow his arms had gotten wrapped around Alex’s waist, holding him tight. It was clearly just to make sure neither of them fell, but Alex couldn’t shake the feeling in his gut.

Neither of them moved. Alex took a steadying breath, not looking away from Willie’s beautiful eyes. He cursed his stupid heart for fluttering, for suggesting treason because of a guy he’d just met, a guy with eyes so beautiful it should’ve been illegal, a guy with a perfect sense of humor, a guy who was so energetic and kind but also understanding, a guy who was now standing upright and steady, as was Alex, but who was still holding him close, arms wrapped around his waist. A guy who was surely just making sure he was still steady, but who looked at him with such intensity that it made him weak in the knees.

Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“Sorry, I kinda… Fell.” Willie gave that perfect laugh, and oh, if Alex wasn’t already smitten, he was now.

“Yeah, I caught that. No pun intended.” Alex let out an extremely undignified snort.

“That,” he said through giggles, “was so bad.” When he looked up, Willie’s cheeks were red but he laughed too.

Maybe treasonous feelings weren’t so bad.

…

As he made his way up to his quarters, Alex flopped on his bed, a giddy grin still over his face. His cheeks hurt from smiling, but he just couldn’t stop. Willie was so… he didn’t even have the words. His laugh was like sunshine in the Summer, warm and bright and the source of all life in the world. His eyes were dark but somehow bright as well, and in the light they looked like bowls of honey as they twinkled. Everything about him was so ethereal, and Alex was completely gone on him. Which was, of course, extremely illegal, but he somehow couldn’t bring himself to care.

As Luke walked in, the aroma of shampoo floating with him and giving away the fact that he’d just showered, he heard a laugh.

“How was your date?” Alex didn’t bother denying it.

“He tried to teach me how to skateboard,” he said, eyes dreamy as he remembered the fond look in Willie’s eyes as he’d fallen. “I almost fell but he-”

“No way. Did he catch you?”

“Twice.” Alex laughed when Luke squealed.

“Well, dude, you know it’s your turn to ask him out, right?”

What?

Alex bolted upright. “What do you mean?”

“I know you weren’t the one to ask him out today. That means it’s your turn to find him and ask him out for another little outing.”

“Fuck.” How the hell was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t just keep wandering the halls behind the kitchens, people would get suspicious. But… maybe he could find Willie again at the park. He’d seemed to know it well.

But what if that made him look creepy? That was Willie’s area that he’d brought Alex to, Alex was merely a guest in Willie’s beautiful domain, even if it was part of the palace. He still felt like he would be intruding.

“I’ll let you deal with that,” Luke said with a laugh.

“Yeah. In the meantime, though, how was self-defense?” Luke had a dopey grin as soon as he thought.

“Amazing.”

Alex listened to his best friend ramble on and on about how incredible it was, or rather, she was. Apparently, Julie had been instructed to go early, so Luke wasn’t able to avoid her. But it didn’t matter, because Alex got to hear his lovestruck best friend rant about how badass she was and how incredible their fights were when they sparred.

A knock rang on the door. Alex cleared his throat, standing up. Luke straightened his back. When he shot Alex a look, Alex nodded.

“Come in.” As the handle turned, a pit in Alex’s stomach formed as King Ray Molina stepped through. He scrambled into a bow, as did Luke.

“Your majesty, is everything alright?”

“It’s okay, mijos, there’s no need to bow.” Alex stood straight again. “You are needed in the royal office. Well, technically only Alex, but Luke should come too. And put on something respectable but comfortable. It might be a long night.” With that, Ray left, leaving the two of them there.

A sinking pit in Alex’s stomach told him that something was very, very wrong.

-----

Luke POV

...

Laying on the floor with Alex was a daily occurrence. It truly was the best spot to have a crisis.

“Emotions are the bane of my existence,” Alex declared. Luke had to agree. “Like,” he continued, “how is it logical that a couple little zaps to the brain can make your stomach drop, or make your palms sweat, or even a week after something happened, still make you feel cold and warm at the same time?”

“Bro, I don’t know,” he agreed. “Like, one minute you’re fine, and the next you’re about to accidentally commit treason.” Alex let out a dry laugh.

“Tell me about it.” A few moments passed, and Luke stared at the ceiling. There were small knots in the gently stained wood planks, with no particular rhyme or reason. “Also, called it.”

“Wh-” Luke started, clearing his throat. “What do you mean, ‘called it?’”

“You like Julie?” Alex assumed. Luke fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t be treasonous. “I might’ve overthought every possible aspect of this, and your comment about accidental treason confirmed what I already thought.” Luke dragged a hand down his face and groaned. How obvious was he?

“I barely know her,” he started, “but I’m already so… I don’t even know the word. Intrigued? Infatuated? In-something.” In love, maybe.

“I’m sorry,” he added after a moment.

“Why?”

“I can only imagine how much this must be on your anxiety, and this doesn’t help.” Luke mentally kicked himself for adding another worry onto his best friend’s anxiety.

“It doesn’t, but it’s not the first bit of accidental treason.” Luke took a moment to process that before bolting upright.

“No way,” he said. “Who?” He ignored Alex’s blush. “Wait, let me get this straight. Well, gay. You’ve liked a guy for an entire week, and you didn’t tell me? This is a betrayal of our friendship!” How dare he? That was cruel. Luke could’ve been teasing him for seven fucking days and Alex had the gall to hide it?

The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch.

“You say that as if you didn’t do the exact same thing,” Alex countered. Luke considered that for a moment.

“Whatever. Okay, details.”

…

After hearing the adorable details of Alex’s meet-cute with Willie, Luke had officially decided he would be officiating their wedding. He could already see it. Of course, he didn’t have much time to imagine his best friend’s future husband, because soon Alex and Reggie were giving him shit for his “crush” on Julie, and he hightailed it out of there, deciding to go to self-defense early. He could just sit on the bench and wait, be free of anybody who would make his thoughts race-

But of course he couldn’t, because right there was Julie, walking into the arena.

"Hey Luke!" She called with a wave.

"Hey, Julie, what’s up?” He dearly hoped he wasn't blushing.

“Not much,” she replied. “Just came early because Lady Athena wanted me to show the trainees my upside-down move.” She tightened her ponytail. “Why are you here? The main session doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.” Luke blushed, his stomach flipping. What if she thought he was annoying?

“Oh,” he said with a shy laugh. “Alex and Reggie were giving me shit for… something,” he explained, hoping she didn’t catch his slip, “and I decided to escape.” Julie nodded.

“That’s valid.”

“Julie?” called Lady Athena. “You ready?”

“That's my cue,” she said with a smirk, hopping away and over to stand next to the coach. Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The way she moved was ethereal, like a butterfly given human form.

She began explaining her move to the trainees, who were all looking very confused, which Luke understood. It looked super complicated, and you would need some serious core strength to pull it off. But somehow she did it in slow fucking motion.

He found himself migrating towards Julie’s friends, who thankfully greeted him with a smile.

Whispering introductions between them, he met Flynn (the girl with the braids), Carrie (Flynn’s girlfriend), and Mira (Julie’s lady-in-waiting). And as if Luke didn’t already have a healthy amount of fear and respect for the princess, she happened to surround herself with other badasses.

Flynn had an air of confidence around her. The way she squared her shoulders as she walked made her long, dark braids sway behind her back, and the bold style she always had just added to the effect. Carrie, Flynn’s girlfriend, was proof that some people were born to be royal. Everything Carrie did and wore, no matter how simple - like her current athletic clothes - screamed royalty, even though she wasn’t technically royal. And Mira was kind and confident, but there was an air about her that told Luke, this is a powerful woman. Not that he was surprised; He’d seen her fights against Julie.

But he just couldn’t take his eyes off of Julie. She moved so cleanly, never stumbling no matter how difficult the position must’ve been, and even as she held herself sideways on one arm and spun, she landed with uncanny grace.

“Okay, Julie, why don’t you get some water, and we’ll do the demonstrations with opponents?” Lady Athena’s long ponytail swished as she walked towards her, and Luke blushed when Julie smiled.

“Sounds good.” She spun on her heel, jogging to the group and catching Luke’s eye. He could’ve sworn her cheeks darkened, but then again, that move made for an intense workout.

“Dude, I don’t know how you managed to do that spin in slow motion,” Mira told her. Julie laughed, and Luke had never heard a sound so beautiful.

“Practice and good core strength.” She sat down on the bench, Mira by her side. So he was right; core strength was a necessity.

“Hey, uh, Julie?” asked Luke shyly. She was drinking water, so she hummed a questioning tone. Luke cleared his throat. “Would it be okay if I joined them and tried to learn the move?” he asked, gesturing his head to the group of preparing trainees. Julie put down her water bottle, smirking, and Luke felt his own smile rising, though he was also nervous. He wasn’t sure why.

“Technically, you’re not a trainee.” Oh. That was why. Luke opened his mouth to apologize, before Julie cut him off. “But, you could be one of the demonstrative opponents if you want to,” she offered. “I’m supposed to show how the move works against different fighting styles, and I think a Tamborian fighting style would add some variety.” Luke grinned and nodded, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Sounds good, boss.” That time he did see Julie blush, and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

As Julie made her way over to the front of the mats, with Carrie by her side, he sat on the bench next to Mira, enchanted. Before they started their fight, though, Mira elbowed him in the ribs. When he glanced over, she didn’t say anything, but gave him a knowing smirk that made him flush. Was he really that obvious?

“What?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” she said. Luke stammered, trying to find an excuse. Mira laughed.

“Don’t worry, dude. I’m not sure if they would exile me for saying this, but you guys would be cute together. Might be illegal, but then again, I’m always down for some treason.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but he knew he was joking. Evidently, Mira did as well, because she snorted and went back to watching Julie and Carrie.

Luke eagerly did the same, watching as Julie made the first move. Carrie hopped out of the way, striking and giving Julie and opportunity to lean forwards. The princess hopped and landed on her right hand, spinning and tripping Carrie. Luke didn’t pay attention to what she said, but was entranced by how she moved. He vaguely remembered something about a dancer.

“That’s my cue,” Mira told him as Julie finished the round against Carrie. “See you later, lover boy.” Before Luke could come up with a comeback for Julie’s kind but blunt friend, she winked and walked away.

As Julie fought Mira, she mentioned something about a ninja, as well as the way the word “lithe” sounded on her tongue. He watched as she danced around the other girl, twisting and tripping her before winning the fight.

Flynn strutted over to Julie, a confident smirk on her face. She was catlike when she fought, something both Luke and Julie noticed, and he was very proud of himself for thinking of it as she pointed it out.

“However,” Julie said as she made the final spin, pinning Flynn and grabbing her collar, “it turns out, cats don’t always land on their feet.”

Whoa.

Not only was she a complete and utter badass, but she was good at bantering with her friends. Luke wasn’t sure why he loved that so much, but a grin broke out on his face, blushing as he caught Julie’s gaze.

"Next,” Julie said, snapping Luke back to the present, “I'm going to fight with Luke. He's from Tambor, so this will be new." She nodded, and he obeyed, practically floating over to her.

As Julie stepped into fighting position, Luke winked, quite pleased with himself for flustering her, then struck. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to get the upper hand. Julie took advantage of his opportunistic nature, when he left himself vulnerable as he attacked, she struck back with twice the confidence.

Soon, though, he tripped. As he lost his balance, Julie spun upside down and tripped him. Luke’s back hit the ground and he let out a gentle “oof,” but couldn’t recover before Julie was on top of him. Luke was extremely aware of the way her leg pinned his hips down to the mat, the way her shoulders moved as she breathed evenly but quickly, the way her hand curled into a fist as she grabbed his collar and pulled her other arm backwards to finish. He tried to move his arms, but the way she’d positioned her torso made it impossible for him to defend his head from her possible blow. He was completely at the mercy of this girl, trusting her not to strike with finality, but not trusting his own unruly heart to steady as he found himself lost in her eyes.

But then, because the universe hated him, Julie winked. His breath caught in his throat and he flushed bright red.

For a moment, the world seemed to still. Luke was acutely aware of the shine of her dark skin, the single loose curl by her ear, the confident smirk on her face. But just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Julie got up, extending her arm, which Luke took. Everywhere her hand touched left tingles on his forearm.

“Nice job!” she told him. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, I just got my ass kicked and you didn’t even break a sweat.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew you were awesome, but I didn’t know you were a human wrecking ball.” Of course, when Julie blushed, he felt a surge of confidence and accomplishment.

“I- well, I don’t-”

“He’s right,” Carrie insisted. You were awesome.” Luke grinned and nodded, reaching over to high-five her.

“Okay, trainees,” called Lady Athena. “Pair up and spar. If you want, spot the other and try the move. I’ll be hovering to make sure nobody gets hurt.” She clapped her hands with finality, and the trainees did as they were told. “The rest of you,” she added, directed at Luke and the Badasses, “practice while you can. Oh, Julie, I want you to practice with Luke today. See if you can work out some similarities and differences between Dahlian and Tamborian fighting styles.”

Oh.

Fuck.

How the hell was Luke going to survive sparring with Julie multiple times, purely for practice and not staged? He wouldn’t be able to go one minute without completely losing it every time she looked at him.

Luke noticed Carrie, Mira, and Flynn all giving him a look that made him fidget. It turned out he was the opposite of subtle. And as Reggie walked towards them, a knowing smirk on his face as well, Luke knew he was dead. He quickly tried to compose himself.

“Alright, boss,” he said after a moment. “Ready to kick my ass?” Julie laughed, and Luke could’ve listened to that sound for the rest of his life.

“Let’s do it.”

Luke struck first, a playful grin on his face. Julie quickly deflected, twisting his arm and twirling behind him, causing Luke’s heart to flutter. It didn’t last long, though, because then she was shoving the backs of his knees and pinning him as he fell down, kneeling hunched over with her holding his wrists behind his back.

“That’s one for me!” She laughed as he groaned. Way to humiliate yourself, Patterson.

“Damn, and to think I ever thought I was good at hand-to-hand.” Luke took her arm, letting her help him up. An idea formed in his head, a cruel one, but it would work. He had to quickly hide the grin on his face. “Wait, I want to try that spinny move thing.” As Julie stepped back. Luke smirked to himself, hopping forward and purposely falling during the spin. It wasn’t like he needed to try to fall, though; that move was impossible.

“Gah, my wrist!” He feigned injury, but his heart still fluttered as Julie rushed over to him. She cared.

But, he couldn’t play nice. He grinned and quickly took her arm, pulling her down to the ground and flipping on top of her. Luke pinned her shoulders, shooting her a cocky grin, but ignoring the look on her face. It was so soft and surprised, but playful and… he daresay impressed.

“And that’s one for me.”

“That wouldn’t work in a real fight, you know,” she informed Luke as she rolled out from under him. She wasn’t humiliated, as far as he could tell, which was probably a good thing. Humiliating the heiress to the Dahlian throne wasn’t a great idea. But her cheeks were darkened with a blush, and she was certainly flustered. Luke patted himself on the back.

“Oh, I know,” he said calmly. “It’s just fun to annoy you.” He could’ve sworn she blushed even more, but she looked away too quickly for him to confirm.

“Alright, rematch,” she decided, her voice confident. Luke nodded, and Julie hopped into fighting position. Luke did the same, noting how adorable it was as she bounced on the balls of her feet, before striking. She moved quickly and unpredictably, but when Luke dodged a hit to his shoulder and she hopped forward, he knew what was coming. He leaned backwards and, as her legs swept underneath his ankles, he jumped and avoided the killer move.

As he avoided her spin, he noticed Julie trying to recover as quickly as she could, but she stumbled, and Luke quickly took advantage of that. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around almost like a ballroom dance, and then holding her back against his chest, his arm pinning her shoulders. He felt his own heartbeat against her back, her rapid breathing making her shoulder blades prick his stomach.

“I win,” he whispered, a grin on his face- one that was quickly replaced with a look of shock when Julie reached up and grabbed his wrist, leaning forwards and throwing him to the floor upside down. As his back hit the ground, he let out a soft “oof” and didn’t get the chance to move before Julie was on top of him, flattening her body over his to make sure he couldn’t move and pinning his shoulders with her forearm. He knew he’d lost the fight, but currently he was more interested in the quirked eyebrow on her face, the shine of sweat on her forehead, and how very close they were.

“Actually, I win.”

…

Luke stood in the shower, letting the cool water wash over him. He normally took warm showers, even after working out, but today he needed the familiar feeling of cold shivers down his spine. There was something about Julie that made him so warm, like he’d known her his whole life. Julie was like the feeling of a sip of warm cocoa on a winter day, like sunlight peeking over the mountaintops. She was intriguing, so complicated and layered, like a mystery that he desperately wanted to solve. Luke couldn’t piece together just why she had that effect on him, though he had a few ideas.

Quickly drying himself off, he changed into a lightweight guard uniform. It was more of a casual suit than a uniform; the guardsmen dress codes in Dahlia weren’t nearly as strict as they were in Tambor. They were more focused on abilities rather than looking like guards. So long as you looked respectable, that was enough.

The cool fabric of the white dress shirt felt good against his skin, and the heather grey vest was a light pressure, keeping him secure. The matching jacket was tailored to a slim fit, but, given that he was a guard, there were also sheaths built into the inside, with simple but deadly daggers within them.

If he was being honest, Luke hated carrying weapons. He felt cool, sure, but he still hated it. No matter how well they were hidden - and well hidden they were; not even the outlines were visible from the outside - he always knew they were there. That, even though they should be safe, there was always a possibility. A possibility that he might end up using one of the cruel blades strapped to his chest.

…

When he walked into Alex’s room from his quarters across the hall, his best friend was sprawled out on his bed, a dopey grin spread across his face. Luke immediately knew he’d been with Willie.

“How was your date?”

“He tried to teach me how to skateboard,” he said. Luke grinned to himself. That was the cutest thing ever. “I almost fell but he-” Luke gasped, knowing his best friend’s disaster-gay-levels well enough to know where this was going.

“No way. Did he catch you?”

“Twice.” Luke squealed, bringing his hands to his cheeks. Alex was getting a classic boyfriend meet-cute and pining stage. It was like something out of a romance novel.

“Well, dude, you know it’s your turn to ask him out, right?” Luke laughed, practically feeling Alex’s nervousness, which was confirmed when Alex bolted upright.

“What do you mean?” Luke snorted. Dumbass.

“I know you weren’t the one to ask him out today. That means it’s your turn to find him and ask him out for another little outing.”

“Fuck.” Luke could see the thoughts running a million miles an hour in his friend’s head, and soon he would be spiraling into gay panic and anxiety.

“I’ll let you deal with that,” Luke said with a laugh.

“Yeah. In the meantime, though, how was self-defense?” Luke didn’t bother hiding the huge grin that spread across his face as he remembered his time with Julie.

“Amazing. I got there early since you and Reggie were being assholes-”

“Love you too.”

“-But it turned out she was there early as well. Well, her and her friends. She has this super badass move where she jumps and lands on one fucking hand and spins twice, tripping you backwards and then pinning you, and she was teaching it to the trainees. Holy fuck, Alex, I don’t know how she does it. And she did it in slow motion!” He raked a hand through his hair. “She was going to demonstrate the move in fights with Mira, Flynn, and Carrie, and I asked if I could join the trainees to learn the move, because of course I did, and then she said that I ‘technically wasn’t a trainee,’ but then offered to let me be one of the demonstrative opponents.”

“And I’m guessing that went well?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “And then, when the trainees were practicing, Lady Athena paired us for the rest of the session, so I got to spar with her.”

“Oooooh!” Luke gave a light punch in mock offense, but he was still glowing.

“Bro, she’s amazing.”

“I can see that.” Luke ignored the shit-eating grin on Alex’s face.

A knock rang on the door, and Luke straightened, looking at Alex as he stood up.

“Come in.” When King Ray walked in, Luke hastily bowed.

“Your majesty, is everything alright?” Alex asked.

“It’s okay, mijos, there’s no need to bow. You are needed in the royal office. Well, technically only Alex, but Luke should come too.” Luke nodded as Ray looked at him. “And put on something respectable but comfortable. It might be a long night.” With that, Ray left, leaving the two of them there.

Something was wrong.

-----

Reggie POV

...

Suit vest long abandoned, sleeves messily rolled up, Reggie fiddled with the stim toy in his pocket, humming to himself as he wandered the long expanse of the Dahlian palace gardens, letting the different scents envelop him. Sometimes this would’ve pushed him into sensory overload, with all of the overlapping smells from the flowers, the sound of chirping birds, bright sunlight, breeze and stim toy, but today it just felt right. He hummed a familiar melody to himself, trying to place it as he wandered, spinning around and occasionally dancing with his steps.

His lips moved to words before he knew it, and he was finally able to place the song: Wake Up. Julie had written it with Rose before she passed away. A sad smile quirked the corners of her mouth. It had been a few years since it happened, but a pang of grief still struck Reggie’s heart. He’d lived at the palace since he was nine, and Rose had become like a mother to him. For seven years she’d raised him like one of her own, a kind, gentle woman. She was the one who taught him to play the bass, too.

Reggie missed her. But Julie looked just like her, and she was so strong, his chest still swelled with pride every time he looked at her. And her voice, her music, it was like Rose in every way, and yet so uniquely Julie.

The lyrics to Wake Up were so inspirational that, even when humming to himself in the gardens, they still brought the familiar prickle of tears to his eyes.

Better wake those demons // Just look them in the eye // No reason not to try

Those lines in particular were the most powerful to him. They were the lines that helped him confront his grief after Rose had passed away, and the ones that made his heart grow and ache every time Julie sang them.

Reggie sighed, letting the memory of Rose wash over him, both melancholy and bright. Every step was filled with happiness and longing, but he knew that if it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be the person he was today. He might’ve still lived in the palace with Julie, sure; it was Ray who had found him and taken him in. But Rose had guided his love for music with Julie.

As he danced around the garden, a strong breeze whipped his hair. He noticed something flying towards him - a leaf, probably. But as he saw it flutter against the wind, he realized that it was a butterfly.

Without thinking, he reached up, letting the butterfly stop against his palm. He shielded it from the wind with his other hand, letting it regain its balance. He giggled as it crawled across his finger, the faint tickling sensation like dandelion wisps on his nose in the Summer. Then, the butterfly took flight against the wind, this time able to push back and fly.

…

Reggie, after finding his suit vest draped across a rosebush, wandered through the corridor to Alex’s room. He, Alex, and Luke had become close friends in the past week. Something about the three of them just clicked.

He knocked on the door in a rhythmic pattern that matched with the song stuck in his head, sauntering in, the word treason filling his ears. A grin spread across his face; he knew exactly what the treason was.

“Well,” Luke began, “the arranged marriage was already a major fuck-up on the council’s decision. We could add in some treason to the mix. Just for funsies.” Reggie nodded. He might’ve been seen as a goody-two-shoes to some people, but he wasn’t opposed to breaking some rules.

“You just want to hang out with Julie, don’t you?” Alex asked. Luke flushed, and Reggie grinned.

“Called it,” he said.

“Oh come on, you too?”

“Dude,” Reggie began. “I love you, but you’re not exactly subtle.” Luke pouted, and Alex cracked up. “You, on the other hand,” Reggie added, “I’m not sure who your treasonous crush is.” He knew Alex was gay, but there weren’t any guys he knew of that he would like.

“A baker named Willie,” Luke interjected before Alex could reply. “And I still haven’t heard the story of how you met, I might add.” Alex groaned, and Reggie clapped. A baker. That was so cliche, but so adorable. He could already see the wedding.

“I assume there’s no way I’m getting out of this?”

“Not a chance,” Luke and Reggie replied in unison, and Reggie high-fived him without looking. Alex groaned.

“So, you remember the feast the night I got here? I was kinda overwhelmed so I stepped out the back door, and this guy just fuckin… Ran me over.” Reggie laughed.

“He pancaked you!”

“Exactly that. Anyway, that happened and I kinda froze because he was really cute. And eventually we were just… Chatting. And I can’t fucking get him out of my mind and now I’m royally fucked because this is treason.”

“Well, like I said, I’m always down for a little treason,” Reggie repeated. “And might I add, that is adorable!!!”

“I know, right?” Luke asked, grinning at Reggie. He nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s an adorable, treasonous meet-cute!!! I swear, this is like something out of a romance novel.”

“That’s what I thought!!!”

“You two are the worst,” Alex informed them.

“You love us,” Reggie said with a grin.

“Unfortunately.”

“Now, Luke. What’s this I hear about some more treasonous feelings for a certain Princess Julie Molina?” Reggie poked his friend in the ribs, laughing when his blush went all the way to his ears.

“Uh, well, it’s not really feelings, plus, I doubt Reggie wants to hear about hypothetical feelings someone might have for his sister.”

“Wrong,” Reggie said. “I want to know everything.” There was no way he was getting away with crushing on his sister without Reggie doing some well-meaning meddling. He didn’t mind that Luke liked Julie, of course. He was a nice guy, and Julie clearly liked him as well. But, Luke was also one of his best friends, and therefore required to spill.

“See, I would explain, but the self-defense class starts in a minute-”

“Thirty,” Reggie corrected.

“Like I said, it starts in a minute, so I’d better run.” Without another word, he bolted out the door.

“You can’t keep running from your feelings forever,” Alex called to Luke.

“No, but I can run from you two goons!” Reggie cracked up, along with Alex.

“Simp,” Reggie declared.

“Definitely.”

“Hey, you mentioned you play drums, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex said with a smile. “And you play… bass?”

“Yep! There’s a recording studio in the basement, you want to go play?”

“I’d love to! Luke keeps getting on my case because I tap on the desk when I’m working through sim files.” Reggie nodded. It was understandable for him as well; even though he wasn’t a drummer, he had ADHD, and sim files were such a pain. They were cool, sure; they were files in which you developed a country similar to Dahlia, and there were social issues, economic questions, political queries, all of which would affect how your practice country developed, even with the details of foreign relations. Reggie wasn’t bad at them, per se, but it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t becoming king. He always got distracted, and while he was quite good at it, especially diplomacy, it just wasn’t what he wanted to do. And it wasn’t a matter of ADHD, either. Julie had ADD. She was just better at it, maybe because she’d been raised for it since birth, and Reggie had lived here for a considerably short time compared to her.

His most recent sim file was on economic development, concerning poverty, disproportionate wealth, and tax rates. Dahlian wealth was relatively evenly distributed; much better than some countries. But he just didn’t like the way the sim files were set up.

…

“Dude, this is sick!” Alex’s enthusiasm was practically tangible, and Reggie smiled.

“I know, right? Just be careful not to touch the handshake prank things on the shelf,” he added, pointing to a small stash. “They’re Carlos’s. One time he added some static electricity and zapped me, and it felt just like the time I was fixing my amp in the rain.”

“You shouldn’t… Okay.”

“Anyway, how do you like the drums?” Alex played a rhythm on the bass, snare, and hi-hat, grinning.

“They’re awesome,” he decided. “In a lot better shape than my set back in Tambor. I’ve had them since I was seven, and they’re pretty beat-up.”

“Oof,” Reggie said. “These are a bit old, but none of us are any good at playing, so they’re just like new!”

Reggie hopped across the room to grab his bass, strapping it around his shoulders and playing a riff. It started with a slide down the A string, and when he began adding more notes, Alex joined in with a rhythm. Reggie gasped.

“Alex, that sounds perfect!” When Alex gave him a confused look, Reggie realized he hadn’t given context. “Julie and I have been writing a song called Icarus, and trying to learn the drums to add in a beat, but that riff I was playing was the baseline for it, right? That beat you were just playing sounded perfect. Dude, we gotta get Jules in here later. She’s gonna be pumped.” Alex grinned.

“That sounds awesome, dude! What’s the song like?”

“It’s pretty upbeat,” Reggie started. “It’s got a sort of inspirational vibe to it. The guitar we’re trying to add has kind of a rock and roll sound, but not metal. I’m trying to figure out how to play it, but I always strum wrong since I’m so used to bass.” He laughed, remembering how he’d tried to strum with the outside of his index finger.

“No way,” Alex said. Reggie gave him a confused look. “Luke plays guitar. He’s insane at it, too. What if the four of us played it? You on the bass, me on drums, Luke on guitar, and Julie on piano and vocals?”

“And you, Luke and I could be backup vocals! Alex, you’re a genius. We’ll be Julie’s Beyonce girls.”

“Yeah, okay.” Reggie grinned. This would be perfect. He just needed to get Julie and Julie’s Future Treasonous Boyfriend (Luke) to join them in the studio later.

…

Self-defense was interesting to say the least. Reggie had the honor of watching his little sister teach a bunch of nervous trainees a move that, if he was being honest, was impossible to do for anybody but Julie. He only caught the last demonstrative round, though, which proved to be just as entertaining as watching her whole teaching session would be.

Why? Well, because she was sparring with Luke. The tension was tangible as they ducked and dodged and struck, and as Julie ended up on top of him, his collar in her fist, a confident smirk on her face, Reggie grinned to himself at how oblivious they both were. They oozed chemistry.

He approached as Lady Athena instructed the trainees to pair up and practice, and luckily caught the flustered and excited look on both Luke’s and Julie’s faces when Lady Athena paired them for sparring. He shot a knowing look at them as he paired with Mira to spar.

They made idle conversation as they practiced, occasionally interrupted by a quick “duck” as the other sent a strike their way.

“Did you know your sister was this oblivious?” Mira asked him. Reggie laughed.

“Nope, though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. She has a habit of ignoring things she doesn’t like, which probably includes treasonous emotions.” Mira laughed, and Reggie took advantage of it, flipping her over and pinning her, winning the match, laughing as she rolled her eyes but took his hand, pulling her up.

“Believe me, I know,” Mira said. “She once got a sim file from a nearby sim country in her foreign relations packet that was questioning the ethics of her country on LGBTQ matters, and she just ignored it because it annoyed her.” Reggie snorted. That did sound like Julie.

Twisting around Mira’s next attack, but quickly regretting it as she hooked her ankle around his knee, knocking him over and winning, Reggie wondered if he could somehow set them up.

“Hey, Mira?”

“Mhm?”

“You know how one of your jobs as Julie’s lady-in-waiting is to help arrange her outfits?” Mira nodded, a smirk growing on her face.

“Say no more.” Reggie grinned. Reggie was his name, and meddling was his game.

…

Reggie was working on a new riff for the bridge of Icarus when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he called, still bent over his notebook, scrawling down notes as he hummed.

“Hey, mijo?” Reggie whirled around to see Ray. He smiled.

“Hi Ray! Everything okay?”

“Not exactly, but I’ll explain that later. We need you in the royal office. I’ve already been to see Julie, Luke, and Alex, they’re coming as well. Just… It might be a long night, so put on something respectable but comfortable.”

“Okay,” Reggie agreed, concerned. “Did something happen?” Ray bit his lip nervously and nodded, walking away without another word.

-----

Willie POV

...

“Hey, Alyssa, how’s that dough looking?” Willie asked from across the kitchen, where he was gathering ingredients for the Hawaiian style shredded chicken.

“Almost done rising,” she called back. “Probably needs about five more minutes.”

“Awesome, thanks!”

“Yep!”

Willie gathered the ingredients in his arms, doing his best not to poke his eye out with the leaves of the pineapple. As he reached his counter, he set down the huge fruit, spreading out the other ingredients, many of them spices. He grabbed a knife from the block behind him, chopping the leaves off of the pineapple, then spinning it as he scalped the rough, pointy skin off as well. He chopped the rest into small pieces and brought them to Alyssa, who was in front of a large slow cooker with chicken inside. He set the bowl down on the counter, nodding from her thanks and running back to the dough, separating and rolling it to create rolls, sticking them in the oven.

“Willie, why don’t you go on break,” Lilian suggested. Willie jumped; Lilian walked silently, and she’d appeared right behind him.

“You’ve been working really hard today,” she added. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good! Thanks.” It was the truth, he was fine. But he was working extra hard today because, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep Alex off his mind. He always worked best when he had something else to think about; the actions practically did themselves. He hadn’t even realized how much he was doing.

“I think I’ll take you up on that break,” he decided. “Be back in an hour or so?” Lilian nodded, patting his shoulder.

“Relax, child.”

“Who are you calling ‘child?’” he asked. “You’re only twenty-five.”

“And you’re nineteen. You’re a child.” Willie rolled his eyes but laughed.

“See you later!”

…

As he ran out the door, leaving his apron swinging on a hook, who would he see but Alex? A grin broke out on his face and, despite his better judgement, he called out to him (after he’d settled his blush, of course).

“Hey there, your royal pancakeness!” He called, butterflies rising in his stomach as Alex looked his way.

“Hey, Willie! How’s it going?”

“Pretty good! Just got on break. You okay?” He asked, noticing the nervousness in Alex’s (beautiful) eyes.

“Oh, yeah,” Alex assured him. “Just walking.”

“Cool.” He fixed his hair, flipping it away from his shoulders. “You sure? You look a little dazed.”

I am too, but that’s just because you’re adorable.

“Just a little tired, I guess.” The lie was a classic one, and Willie saw right through it. He could tell that Alex didn’t want to talk about it, though so he left it alone. He always hated having people up in his business.

“Well, make sure you get some sleep tonight,” he told him. “In the meantime, I’m off to skate a little. You wanna come?”

Willie wasn’t sure if Alex would say yes, no, or just walk away laughing. Skateboarding wasn’t something you would expect a prince to do.

But then, Alex replied, “I’d love to,” and Willie’s grin stretched even wider, dearly hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Sick! Follow me.”

He led Alex down the back of the corridor, thankful that Alex was behind him, because that meant he could let his gay panic show on his face without letting the person causing it know. His long hair blocked his jaw from view, as well, so he was confident that Alex was oblivious to the fact that Willie was currently aggressively mouthing cute boy cute boy cute boy.

Willie took Alex’s hand, grinning when Alex smiled. He brought him out the back door, into the streaming sunlight and to the park in the gardens. Hardly anybody knew of its existence, which was just how Willie liked it. He’d been given permission to skate there, and never once had he seen another person there. Bringing Alex there felt strange, but right. This had become Willie’s area, where he would go to get away from people when he needed to, and now he was letting Alex in. He wasn’t quite sure what compelled him to do it, but he was glad he did.

Willie shot him a glance, getting on the skateboard and flying down the sidewalks, jumping over metal rails and benches. He did a quick kickflip after he landed, skating back around the roundabout, his grin wide as ever as he made his way back to Alex.

“Want to try?”

“Oh, no,” Alex replied, “I’ve never actually skateboarded before, and I’m pretty sure I’d just look stupid.”

“You’ve never skated before?” Willie’s eyebrows knit together. He wasn’t necessarily surprised, given that Alex was a prince, but still, every boy he’d ever met had skateboarded.

“Not once.”

“Well, there’s an easy way to fix that,” Willie said with a grin, extending his hand as he stepped off the skateboard. His heart fluttered as Alex reluctantly took it, his hand cold but soft as he held on, stepping on.

But before he could say anything, Alex was stepping onto it lopsidedly, and Willie instinctively ran around behind him, his hands bracing Alex’s shoulders as he fell. Willie had rather large hands, and as his thumbs stretched to his back, he felt Alex’s racing heartbeat. He knew it was because he’d almost fallen off of a skateboard, but he couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Alex said. “I-

“No, bro, you’re good! Just glad I caught you,” Willie said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, and Willie tried (and failed) to calm his blush. He noticed a few freckles across Alex’s nose, barely there, like stars in the sky just after sunset.

“Okay, let’s try this again.” Willie outstretched his hand again, and grinned when Alex took it, stepping on steadily, squeezing his hand.

He liked this, holding hands with Alex. He could imagine doing this every day, casual affection, maybe playing with his hair-

No. He shoved those thoughts out of his head. Alex was in an arranged marriage. To get in the way of that would be treason. Plus, Willie didn’t even know if Alex liked guys.

“I did it!” Alex exclaimed, a grin on his face as he stood on the skateboard. Willie broke out into a huge smile, his chest swelling with pride. Alex was a nerd, but he was his nerd.

“Hell yeah, dude! Want me to push you so you move?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Understandable, have a nice day.” Willie and Alex both cracked up, tears in his eyes. But he heard wobbling, and soon he was catching Alex right in front of him as he fell. Willie leaned back, stopping himself from falling on his back, but the main thing on his mind was how close he and Alex were. Their chests were pressed together, and Willie could barely tell whose racing heartbeat was his. He was close enough to count Alex’s long eyelashes, close enough to...

It was a nice thought, but it would never happen.

Willie’s arms were wrapped around Alex’s waist, holding him steady as he stood up straighter, but not letting go. He held his gaze, steadying his breath, lost in Alex’s eyes. They were a mixture of blue, green, and grey, light but mysterious and beautiful, like frost on a garden, twinkling in moonlight. Without meaning to, his eyes flicked to Alex’s lips for a split second, and Willie could’ve sworn Alex’s did the same.

Finally, Alex cleared his throat and stepped back. Willie wasn’t surprised, but he was disappointed. He liked holding Alex like that.

“Sorry, I kinda… Fell.” Willie cracked up at the bluntness.

“Yeah, I caught that. No pun intended.” He hated himself for the pun, but all of the hate was replaced with love when Alex let out a snort.

“That,” he said through giggles, “was so bad.” Willie blushed but laughed too, caught up in the mirth in Alex's eyes. He looked so young, laughing like this, free and happy. And when he’d finally composed himself, his cheeks were rosy from laughter, small lines around his eyes.

It was official: Willie was smitten.

-----

Julie POV

...

Julie groaned.

It had been an entire week, and all of her interactions with Luke were minimal and cordial, but there was something in his eyes that she couldn’t shake. Every time he bowed, his eyes would flick up to meet hers, every time he smiled, they would crinkle and smile with his lips. Julie couldn’t get rid of these stupid feelings, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she told herself that she was literally about to commit treason every time she was tempted to act.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve groaned in the past ten minutes,” Flynn pointed out. “Care to tell us what’s going on?”

“Jules, we know something’s wrong. You can try to hide it all you want, but that won’t change it.” Carrie examined her perfect nails, which were painted gold and shimmered in the light.

“I don’t know,” she lied. Flynn and Carrie shared a look.

“Alright, what’s his name?” Julie bolted upright from her spot on her bed, flushed.

“What do you mean?” Her two friends shared another look and laughed.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Carrie told her, “you know that?” Julie groaned a fifth time.

“So I’ll ask again,” Flynn decided. “What’s his name?” When Julie stayed silent, she added, “dude. You know that if anyone’s down for a little treason, it’s us.” She wasn’t wrong, and Julie knew that. Flynn was ride-or-die, Carrie too. Neither of them would hesitate before committing war crimes if it meant helping Julie, and she didn’t take that for granted. She was still emotional about it, though.

“You know Alex’s guard, Luke?”

“The one who was showering you in compliments at self-defense last week?” Flynn asked, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“He complimented me once, Flynn.”

“Tell yourself whatever you need to.”

“I think I will.”

Carrie snorted. “Jules, you clearly like him. Make a move!”

“Carrie,” Julie said calmly. “I say this with love. Are you out of your mind?”

“I mean, probably.” Flynn cracked up and Carrie’s perfect face had a smug little smile that pissed Julie off. She flopped back down.

“This whole thing sucks.”

“You’re not wrong,” Flynn agreed, though she still had a grin on her face. “You know what would help?”

“Treason?” Carrie suggested.

“Nope! Well, yes, but I was going to say getting ready for self-defense. Lady Athena wanted us to go early today, remember?”

Unfortunately, Julie did remember, and she was dreading it. Lady Athena had asked if she could practice her upside-down move some more, and then show it to the training guards, plus a demonstrative spar with each of the other three girls to show how to use it against different fighting styles.

Before she could respond, Mira walked in, piles of fabric in her arms.

“Who’s ready to go?” She asked enthusiastically. “I just had these tailored,” she said, putting down the fabric, which turned out to be matching athletic clothes. Soft, high-waisted capris leggings, with matching tops that were slim-fitting and cropped at the ribs. The halter neckline was gentle and hemmed, nothing fancy or tied.

“They should be nice and cool so you don’t get too sweaty,” Mira explained, “and they’re form-fitting to make movement easier.” She handed a set to Julie, violet in color. Carrie’s was hot pink, and Flynn’s was jade green. Mira wore a sky blue set.

“Mira, have I mentioned that you’re the best lady-in-waiting ever?” Julie asked, a huge grin spreading on her face.

“Not in the last five minutes.”

…

As she walked into the training arena, flanked by Flynn, Mira, and Carrie, Julie pulled her hair into a ponytail, giving Lady Athena a grin.

“Alright, ready to show these guys how it’s done?” she asked confidently, her bronze skin shimmering in the light. Julie nodded. Lady Athena patted Julie’s shoulder and turned back to the group of about twenty young people, ranging from about thirteen to twenty, of all genders. She scanned the eyes, recognizing some of them from her previous self-defense classes, before she stopped on a pair of hazel ones.

Luke wasn’t with the group of trainees, rather standing on the sidelines. Without thinking, Julie approached him.

“Hey Luke!” His cheeks flushed.

“Hey, Julie, what’s up?”

“Not much,” she replied. “Just came early because Lady Athena wanted me to show the trainees my upside-down move.” She fidgeted, tightening her ponytail. “Why are you here? The main session doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” he said with a shy laugh. “Alex and Reggie were giving me shit for… something, and I decided to escape.” Julie caught his slip, but didn’t say anything.

“That’s valid.”

“Julie?” Called Lady Athena. “You ready?”

“That’s my cue,” she said, hopping away and over to stand next to the coach. Her eyes travelled to Flynn, Carrie, and Mira, who were standing behind the eager trainees, all giving her The Look and glancing at Luke. Julie gave them a quick death stare, before going back to smiling at the trainees.

“Okay, everyone,” Lady Athena called, quieting the chatter amongst the group. “Princess Julie is here to show us a new move she came up with. We haven’t come up for it yet, have we?”

“No, not yet,” Julie responded. “But I’m working on it. Oh, and you can all call me Julie.”

“Right. So, Julie here is going to demonstrate the move, first on her own, then with a few other people she’s brought, to show how it works against different fighting styles. Julie?”

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands nervously. “So, the first thing is knowing when to do it. You generally do it when your opponent has you in a position where you have to lean forward.” She demonstrated, bending a bit forward. “Then, you jump, land on your hand - and it’s important that it’s the hand that matches the direction you’re facing. If you lean forward to the right, your opponent’s left, you jump on your right hand, and vice versa. Then, you spin by using momentum in your hips. This is mostly to distract them. Then, after the initial spin, you spin again, but rather than upright, you bend your elbow, lean like this-” she went through the previous moves then leaned to the side, putting down her leg to hold herself in the same position- “and spin, swinging your legs behind your opponent’s ankles to trip them backwards.” She demonstrated that bit as well, as slow as she could while still doing it correctly. “Then once they’re down, you use your spinning momentum to get on top of them and finish the fight.”

As she stood back up, she noted the confused or scared looks on the trainees’ faces, as well as an approving smile from Lady Athena and silent applause from Flynn, Mira, and Carrie- and Luke. At some point during her demonstration, he’d made his way over to her friends, and they were quietly chatting as she moved.

“That looks really hard,” one of the trainees piped up, “but super badass.” If there was a way to verbally keysmash, Julie did it.

“Thanks so much!!! Though I should tell you, the first time I did it was completely by accident, and I sprained my wrist doing the initial spin. Afterwards, the only reason I tried it again was because Flynn bet me I couldn’t.” She shot a glance at her best friend, and her smirk and nod make her laugh. “But eventually,” she continued, “Lady Athena saw me trying to do it and gave me some tips, and one thing led to another, and here we are.”

After a few moments of stunned silence, Lady Athena spoke.

“Okay, Julie, why don’t you get some water, and we’ll do the demonstrations with opponents?”

“Sounds good.” She spun on her heel, jogging over to her friends, ignoring the butterflies as she caught Luke’s eye.

“Dude, I don’t know how you managed to do that spin in slow motion,” Mira told her. Julie laughed.

“Practice and good core strength.” She sat down on the bench, Mira by her side.

“Hey, uh, Julie?” asked Luke. She was guzzling water, so she hummed a questioning tone. “Would it be okay if I joined them and tried to learn the move?” he asked, gesturing his head to the group of preparing trainees. Julie put down her water bottle, smirking, a sudden bubble of confidence welling up inside her.

“Technically, you’re not a trainee. But, you could be one of the demonstrative opponents if you want to,” she offered. “I’m supposed to show how the move works against different fighting styles, and I think a Tamborian fighting style would add some variety,” she reasoned, ignoring Carrie’s eyebrow wiggle from behind Luke.

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded with a grin.

“Sounds good, boss.” Julie flushed at the nickname.

…

As she sparred with Carrie, she spoke between her moves.

"See, Carrie fights like a dancer. She's graceful and quick-" she dodged a blow from the girl, taking the opportunity to jump on her hand and twist, spinning and quickly tripping Carrie- "but not quick enough. No opponent is going to expect you to pull a breakdancing move on them." As she got on top of Carrie, pressing her elbow across her shoulders and pinning her down, a grin spread across her face.

Julie got up and extended her hand to Carrie, who took her forearm and Julie took hers, pulling her up.

Mira was up next. She jumped into a fighting position, her flaming red hair swinging behind her. Julie smirked, making the first blow.

"Mira, on the other hand, fights like a ninja. She's lithe and graceful, but deadly." Julie leaned forward, spinning on her hand and tripping Mira, quickly pouncing over her to win, before helping her up again. Next, Flynn.

Flynn made the first move, striking near Julie's shoulder, she bolted out of the way, turning to strike back.

"Flynn is catlike when she fights," Julie explained, dodging another blow. "She's light on her feet and quick, with amazing reflexes. However-" she jumped and spun on her hand, tripping Flynn and ending the fight- "it turns out, cats don't always land on their feet." She shot Flynn a wink.

She glanced at Luke, whose cheeks were bright red, but he had a confident smile on his face. Julie grinned.

"Next I'm going to fight with Luke. He's from Tambor, so this will be new." She gestured with a quick nod for him to come over.

As Julie stepped into fighting position, Luke winked. Julie ignored the butterflies in her stomach, overwhelmed with confidence as Luke struck. She dodged and blocked, striking back any chance she had.

Luke was surprisingly competent, but very opportunistic, which Julie took advantage of. As he lost his balance, she spun upside down and tripped him, quickly using her momentum to get on top of him, pinning his hips with her leg. She grabbed his collar and pulled her fist back in a final move, but froze. It was just training, after all.

Now it was Julie's turn to wink, which seemed to fluster Luke even more.

They stayed like that for a few seconds before Julie got up, outstretching her hand to Luke. He took her forearm and she took his, pulling him up.

“Nice job!” she told him.

“Oh, please, I just got my ass kicked and you didn’t even break a sweat.” Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “I knew you were awesome, but I didn’t know you were a human wrecking ball.” Julie flushed, stammering.

“I- well, I don’t-”

“He’s right,” Carrie insisted. You were awesome.” And God, Julie wished Luke hadn’t grinned at Carrie’s agreement, because he had the cutest eyes ever. Honestly, it should’ve been illegal. Her first order of business when she was crowned queen would be to make it illegal to fluster her.

“Okay, trainees,” called Lady Athena. “Pair up and spar. If you want, spot the other and try the move. I’ll be hovering to make sure nobody gets hurt.” She clapped her hands with finality, and the trainees did as they were told. “The rest of you,” she added, directed at Julie and her group, “practice while you can. Oh, Julie, I want you to practice with Luke today. See if you can work out some similarities and differences between Dahlian and Tamborian fighting styles.”

Julie nodded, ignoring the way her heart pounded, ignoring how Luke started fidgeting, and especially ignoring the incredibly annoying looks from Mira, Flynn, Carrie, and Reggie, who had just popped in to join.

Digest those butterflies, Molina. D i g e s t t h e m.

“Alright, boss,” Luke said after a moment. “Ready to kick my ass?” Julie laughed.

“Let’s do it.”

Luke struck first, a playful grin on his face. Julie quickly deflected, twisting his arm and twirling behind him, gently (since it was training, and he was cute) shoving the backs of his knees and pinning him as he fell down, kneeling hunched over with Julie holding his wrists behind his back.

“That’s one for me!” She laughed as he groaned.

“Damn, and to think I ever thought I was good at hand-to-hand,” he said with a grin. Julie blushed and helped him up. “Wait, I want to try that spinny move thing.” Julie stepped back, letting Luke jump onto his hand, but as soon as he spun, he fell.

“Gah, my wrist!” Julie rushed over to where Luke was now sitting, reaching out to help him-

Then, that little shit grinned and grabbed her arm, pulling her down and spinning on top of her, pinning her shoulders.

He shot her a cocky grin. “And that’s one for me.” Julie rolled her eyes, hating the way her heart was fluttering.

“That wouldn’t work in a real fight, you know.” She rolled out from under him, fixing her hair.

“Oh, I know,” he said in a relaxed manner. “It’s just fun to annoy you.” Julie’s stupid heart fluttered again, and she looked away, sure her face was on fire.

“Alright, rematch.” Luke nodded, and Julie hopped into fighting position. Luke did the same, and Julie didn’t hesitate to strike. She moved quickly, remembering her forms and the movements that Lady Athena had drilled into her since she could walk. She spun, aiming for Luke’s shoulder. When he leaned to the side to dodge, she jumped onto her hand, twirling and tripping him-

Or, she tried to.

Luke had completely jumped over her legs, anticipating the move. She really shouldn’t have been surprised, but it caught her off guard. She tried to recompose herself, but Luke was quicker than he looked, and had grabbed her arm, spinning her with her back against his chest and his forearm across her shoulders, pressing tight enough to prove that he’d won, but not as hard as he would’ve if it were a real fight. If it had been real, his arm would’ve been over her throat, anyways. Julie could feel his heartbeat between her shoulder blades, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“I win,” he said softly, but Julie could hear the shit-eating grin behind the words. She smirked to herself. No way was she going down that easy.

Before Luke could move, she reached with her arm and grabbed his wrist from its place near her collarbone, bending forwards and throwing him over her shoulder. As his back hit the ground, she spun, pressing her forearm against his shoulders and flattening herself over him so he couldn’t move.

“Actually, I win.”

…

“Okay,” Flynn said after everyone had changed and gathered back in Julie’s room. “If you can’t tell by now that Luke is in love with you, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Flynn. He’s not in love with me, nor am I in love with him.” Flynn, Carrie, and Mira all shared a look and laughed. But before Julie could respond, a knock echoed on her door.

“Come in.” Julie smiled as her dad walked into her room. “Hey dad! Everything okay?” she asked when she noticed the crease between his eyebrows.

“Not exactly.”

“Uh oh,” she replied, standing up.

“We need you in the royal office.” Julie’s stomach dropped. “Your friends can come if they would like,” he added, shooting a kind but worried glance at Flynn, Mira, and Carrie, “but this is a tense situation, and they would be required to keep it all classified.”

“We can do that,” Carrie said, a single crease between her brows. Mira and Flynn nodded. Julie couldn’t shake the nervousness in her stomach.

“Did I do something?”

“No, no, don’t worry, mija. Está bien, it’s nothing that you did. But it’s not good. Just… put on something respectable but comfortable. It might be a long night.” He turned to walk out the door, but Julie grabbed his sleeve.

“Papá, ¿qué pasó?” Ray sighed.

“Do you remember Caleb Covington? He’s the king of Krypto.”

“Yeah, but it’s been awhile.” Ray sighed again, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.

“The kingdom of Krypto has declared war on Dahlia.”

#be who you are (no compromise)#blue writes #bwya tag

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tomtenadia · 3 years

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Island Dreams - Chapter 19

Good evening, afternoon, morning to everyone and welcome to chapter 19.

I have a few notes before letting you to the chapter. Rowan and Aelin finally attend Heb Celt. Heb Celt is this wonderful festival held in Stornoway each year (non covid years) and it's all about Scottish and Celtic music. It's big and it's amazing. That's where they are. I mentioned some groups. Peat and Diesel have been mentioned before in the fic. The new ones are Skerryvore and Skipinnish. they do some amazing music and I highly recommend it if you want to try some Scottish bands. They also sing in Gaelic. The song from Skerryvore that Aelin sing is called You and I. Awesome stuff.

Half way through you will notice Elide and Lorcan appearing in the fic. I tried to keep Lorcan IC as much as i could. not an easy task. I had to give them modern world jobs so Lorcan in my head is perfect for a rugby player. He is the Captain of the Glasgow warriors. They are a real team in Glasgow. The boys also mention the Six Nations. This is a wonderful competition that if you are in Europe you might have heard of. It happens every year and it has 6 teams competing: Scotland (YAY), Italy (YAY - I am Italian... imagine my pain on a Sco vs Ita game), Wales, Ireland and France. I love this competition and it's going to start this weekend. Rowan and Lorcan joke about England and Scotland. Although England wins most of the times (grrrrr) a few years back Scotland actually won and it almost became a new national day after St Andrews. I am not joking. Rugby is a big thing in Scotland.

Two Gaelic phrases: -Tha Gàidhlig agam cuideachd: I speak Gaelic too -Tha beagan Gàidhlig agam. I speak little Gaelic.

Quick update as well about the fic. Most of the chapters have some big chunks written. But there are two important chapters: 22 - something big happens. I wrote the main important part 5 times already and probably re write another five before i publish it. It involves something I don't usually write and I am really nervous. So finger crossed.

26: this will be the last chapter (there's an epilogue as well) and again I have written the main event. There is so much fluff that it's probably not healthy :)

So, after this massive introduction I can let you go and enjoy (hopefully) the chapter.

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Aelin had woken up before Rowan that morning. It was finally mid July and it was Heb Celt day and she was super excited. The festival would run for three days but they had chosen the one with the most of their favourite artists. Plus Rowan had tickets for Peat and Diesel and they could not miss them. She rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen. That morning it was her turn for once to prepare breakfast. Rowan had taught her enough for her to make breakfast safely without burning the house down. It was a special day and she was going to make eggs and bacon, the only concession Rowan would make in his perfect diet. Once a week they could treat themselves to a non healthy breakfast. She prepared the coffee, sliced some bread for the toaster and started frying the bacon in one pan and getting the eggs ready as well. She felt good, she could make breakfast for Rowan for once. She was almost done when she felt his arms around her waist and a soft kiss behind her ear. “It smells lovely.”

“It’s a special day today so we are having our special breakfast.” She told him while finishing ti prepare the eggs. She was very proud of her job. “I’ll set the table.” He added and moved away and she missed his arms. “So, the main event is tonight at seven.” She said passing him the plates with food “I had a look at some events and it seems there is enough for us to fill up the entire day.” “You have done a good job,” he commented taking a bite of the food she had prepared for him. She tasted it as well and found it edible. Well, at least she was not going to poison them and he seemed satisfied. “Look at you.” He pulled her to him, and Aelin sat on his lap. She grabbed her plate and finished her breakfast with one of his arms around her. She was really loving it living with him. It had taken her a little while to adjust to his way of life but she had realised that living with him was quite easy. They had their little fights but he seemed to hate to hold grudges for too long so every time they had fixed their issues quite quickly. The two of them ate in silence for a moment “This is good, Fireheart.” And he polished off his plate. “I had a good teacher.” She stood and Rowan noticed that she was only wearing a large t-shirt, his t-shirt, and under it he could very barely notice her underwear. He grabbed her and pulled her back on his lap and she straddled him. His hands landed on her butt and she kissed him. “You really love teasing me, don’t you?” “It’s fun.” He looked at her in a weird way “Sure, torturing a poor man like that.” She got up again and took all the plates to the sink and she walked swaying her hips on purpose. Rowan almost howled at the sight. She started washing the dishes and at the same time she began dancing and singing and that’s the way we do it, the way we do it in the Western Isles. Rowan laughed and helped her. She washed and he dried them. She kept singing and bumped her hips into his and the two started dancing together. Once they were done Aelin went to her old room to get changed. She wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Then she braided her hair and tied a colourful bandana to her head. She prepared her backpack and she was ready to go. Once out, Rowan was waiting for her. He had blue shorts a grey t-shirt and on top of it a blue shirt with short sleeves and his sunglasses on top of his head. Aelin took a photo of him “so sexy.” He raised an eyebrow at her comment “I am not—“ “Shh…” she said placing a finger on his lips “I am your girlfriend and I am the one to judge.” He bit her finger in reply. “Fine, fine.” He grabbed her hand “Come on, I have a surprise for you.” Her face lit up and he could spend an entire day staring at her smiling at him. It was such a beautiful sight. They left the house and began their walk all the way to the harbour and Aelin was getting curious about their destination. They reached a small house down at the pier and Rowan pulled her toward the small group of people gathered. Aelin noticed another couple and a woman on her own. She was quite intent in studying the couple. The woman was quite petite with black hair and black eyes as well and she had a very bright smile. The man was almost the opposite. He was tall, Aelin suspected even taller than Rowan, something she could not believe it was possible. He had a thick muscular build with long dark hair and same for his eyes. But where she exuded a friendly attitude, he seemed to scowl even at the stones. “Is this part of the festival?” Wondering about his plan. “In a manner.” He explained quite vaguely “It’s just a pre festival fun.” Sure, now it was clear, thought Aelin, none the wiser. Rowan left her side for a moment and she noticed him talking with a man who, from the way he was dressed seemed to be a crew member on a boat. Rowan looked relaxed and Aelin suspected the two were friends. And with sadness she realised she had never met any of Rowan’s friend and he did not seem to mention any of them. “Ready for an adventure?” He told her once he came back, carrying two lifejackets. Aelin stared at him and then he pointed at the small rib boat and he gave her a huge grin. “I know one of crew members, Callum,” and he pointed at the man he was talking to. We used to dive together. I asked him if he could save us two seats for this morning. It’s a gorgeous day and a boat trip seems like the best way to spend the morning.” “You are a very resourceful man, Rowan Whitethorn.” She tiptoed on her feet and kissed his nose. One of the crew member walked around distributing lifejackets and explained the basic health and safety measures. Aelin wore her vest and Rowan double checked it was up to his standards. Once he was happy that the jacket was safely on he helped her to get on the rib. The brunette girl who was part of the couple sat beside her giving her a wide smile full of excitement that probably mirrored Aelin’s. “I am Elide.” The woman introduced herself and Aelin took her hand. “I am Aelin.” She smiled back “Are you here for the festival too?” She had a feeling they were tourists. “Yes,” she replied excited “Lorcan and I come every year. We love it.” Then she turned to the man at her side “This is Lorcan by the way. Don’t worry he does not bite. That is just his regular face” and the man grunted in reply. Aelin laughed. The man seemed to be mad at the world. She turned to introduce Rowan to the couple, but she noticed he was still on the pier chatting away with one of the crew members. “The tall guy on the pier with the blue shirt? My boyfriend, Rowan.” Elide’s gaze took in Rowan and Aelin smiled wickedly at the woman’s stare of understanding. “Did you come here for the festival too?” “Oh, Rowan and I live here. He is the local, I moved her a few months ago.” “Nice,” said the woman. Aelin liked her already, she had a very bubbly personality. “Lorcan and I live in Glasgow.” “I never been there but Rowan did uni there..” “You should come and visit. It’s quite a fantastic city. So alive.” Rowan finally returned and sat down beside Aelin “nice chat?” “Yeah, I haven’t seen him in ages. I knew he had opened a boat tours business but I never had the chance to come and say hi. We were just discussing some ideas for possible diving adventures.” She caressed his head and realised that there was still so much she did not know about him. Some days he still felt like a huge mystery, but still, she was madly in love with him and she was looking to find out more about him day by day. “I made a friend by the way,” and she pointed at the woman at her side “This is Elide. She and her boyfriend Lorcan are here for the festival too.” Rowan extended his hand and then he and Lorcan exchanged a manly nod and both women rolled their eyes. Rowan fussed over her again and double checked one more time that her lifejacket was fitted and tied properly, when the rib boat started to move. His hand reached behind her back and he leaned comfortably against the side of the boat and closed his eyes, letting the sun kiss his face. Aelin and Elide on the other hand, were taking photos and chatting away happily pointing at all the points of interest. The boat glided on the water and Aelin leaned back against Rowan, taking in the scenery in front of her. She had explored all of that during her adventures, but seeing it from the water was a completely different experience. “Thank you for this.” She said to him. “Hopefully we will see some wildlife.” He added “Callum said that yesterday they spotted Orcas.” Aelin’s eyes went wide in surprise “I saw whales at the Butt of Lewis, or what I think it was whales.” “Highly likely.” Then she turned to Elide “So, you guys are staying here for the whole festival?” The woman nodded “Yes, Lorcan and I always rent a cottage for a week and spend the whole weekend at the festival. I am looking forward the main event tonight: Peat and Diesel.” Aelin almost squealed “us too. Rowan introduced me to them very recently and I am dying to see them live.” “We have been to one of their concerts in Glasgow at the Barrowlands.” Said Lorcan almost grumbling. “Oh, he speaks,” joked Elide, patting his leg and giving him a smile. He did not reply and just placed a hand on her back. “What about we spend the day together?” Aelin turned all excited to Rowan who gave her a nod “Yes,” she shouted looking at Elide again. They sailed for a bit longer and reached Tiumpan Head and Rowan told her to keep and eye on the sea. Not a moment later she spotted a couple of fins and she and Elide almost jumped. “Dolphins,” Rowan said in her ear. She made a 360 and sat on her knees facing now the water. She felt Rowan’s arm tight around her waist. “Please, don’t fall in the water.” Her hand was in the water and a dolphin passed very close to her and she almost touched it. Rowan used his free hand to take pictures of her. His phone gallery had nothing but pictures of Aelin. Elide turned as well and Rowan noticed the panic in the other man’s eyes and they exchanged a glance of understanding. Aelin leaned a bit further but Rowan’s arm pulled her back “Please don’t. Lifeguard service is not in my plans for today.” “There’s dolphins around the boat.” Aelin squealed. “I know, Fireheart,” he pulled her back “but you need to calm down.” She sat back down to a safer position and Rowan felt like he could breath again. “Is that Tolsta?” She then asked when they continued north and she recognised the place in front of her. The closer they got to the beach the clearer the water got and Aelin was in awe “This reminds me of when Lys and I swam at Luskentyre.” Oh yeah, Rowan remembered the day and very quickly chased the memories away. They were in public. The boat made a turn and they began to make their way back to the town. Aelin snuggled to Rowan’s chest, with her arms around his waist. “Are you cold?” He demanded “I have your favourite hoodie with me.” “I am fine.” An hour later they were back at the harbour and Aelin was high on excitement. The trip had been amazing. Once off the boat she flung her arms around Rowan’s neck and kissed him “Thank you. I loved my surprise.” “You are most welcome.” He pulled back from her “Let me say bye to Callum.” And she was left alone with Elide and Lorcan. “That was a nice trip.” Said the woman, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand. “Totally. I had never seen dolphins before. It was so awesome.” “Really?” Elide was curious. Aelin nodded “Until a few months ago I lived in London. Born and bred there. Not much chance to see dolphins in the water. I doubt they would enjoy the Thames.” Elide gazed at Lorcan “We were planning a quick weekend in the capital next month.” “Ask me anything. I can tell you the best places to go and how to survive London without breaking the bank.” “That would be lovely,” was Lorcan’s reply “I feel like I need a mortgage for this trip.” He kissed the woman’s head and she noticed the first sign of affection “But it’s a belated birthday present, so…” he shrugged. “Ach, I can help you with that. I survived London on a budget when I was student.” Rowan finally came back and embraced her from behind “Sorry, Callum and I were just planning an excursion for next Sunday.” He kissed her ear. “Can I come too?” “Of course.” Then he lifted his head and looked at their two companions for the day “Aelin and I are going to grab lunch, fancy joining us?” Lorcan almost protested but Elide poked his shoulder “Stop being grumpy.” Then she turned to Aelin and Rowan “Of course we are coming.” Rowan smiled and took Aelin’s hand and started walking to Maeve’s. He laughed when he noticed that Aelin was almost skipping. Gods, the woman had never ending energy. While walking to Maeve’s Rowan and Lorcan ended up side by side and Aelin just noticed that her assumption was right and Lorcan really was taller that Rowan. The man must have been closer to two metres. She felt tiny all of a sudden and Elide seemed even more petite beside the huge man. She could put Aedion with them as well and they could form a sexy, tall wall of muscles. She grinned and was glad that Rowan was busy talk to Elide so he did not notice her savage blush. They reached the cafe and noticed that it was packed and Rowan sighed. He loved the festival but it also meant a savage invasion disrupting his day to day life. He entered first and went to his aunt and Aelin smiled when she noticed that Maeve had managed to find some space for them. “Privileges of being related to the owner,” he smiled, going back to them. “This is a lovely place,” commented Elide “why we never stopped here?” “So, will you be enjoying the entire festival as well?” Asked Elide, passing a menu to Lorcan. “No, Rowan and I will be doing today only. Tomorrow we have to reopen the bookshop.” The woman’s eyes lit up in surprise “do you run the bookshop down the road?” Rowan nodded “It’s my shop.” He took Aelin’s hand in his “she helps.” “Yeah, I fix his displays and I charm customer. Rowan scares them away by being a grump” She grinned back at him and he, in exchange, flicked her nose. “I am a primary school teacher,” continued Elide who was definitely the chattier of the pair “And Lorcan is the coach of the Glasgow Warriors. They are a rugby team.” And Aelin was grateful to the woman for the clarification. “No way.” Said Rowan amazed “That’s why you looked familiar. You were their captain until a few years back. Lorcan Salvaterre.” Lorcan nodded. “I studied at Glasgow university and the Warriors were, and still are, my favourite team. I went to see plenty of their games. You guys are awesome.” “You like rugby?” “Aye,” added Rowan and Aelin studied him for a moment. He was alive all of a sudden, his usual calm disappeared and he was one beautiful sight “Stornoway has a small club and I go and watch some of the games. But I miss the big league guys. I usually get tickets for the Six Nations as well.” Lorcan smiled “I can get you some tickets for one of Scotland’s home games. Perhaps for the one against England. Wonder if it will be finally the year we trash them as they deserve.” “Hey,” Aelin exclaimed almost hurt “English woman here.” And as a joke she pushed her London accent. “No one is perfect, Fireheart.” Rowan kissed her temple. She pinched his side and he barely reacted “Fine, I will support England this year, just to annoy you” She threatened and the two guys glared at her. “Fine.” She raised her hands “but you need to teach me Flower of Scotland.” “It would be my pleasure.” And he pulled her to him and in that instant Maeve came with their order “Sorry for the wait guys, we are quite busy today.” Rowan said something in Gaelic to his aunt and she walked away with a smile. Elide turned to him “Tha Gàidhlig agam cuideachd.” Rowan’s face lit up. “I teach at the Glasgow Gaelic School. I am not a native. I picked it up at uni and I fell in love with it. I spent some time on the islands to learn it and then I got a job as a teacher.” “Yeah if she starts to shout at me in Gaelic I know she is really mad at me.” The man joked taking her hand. “I only know a few sentences. Tha beagan Gàidhlig agam.” Aelin said proudly “Rowan has been teaching me.” They finished their lunch chatting away nicely and getting to know each other. Lorcan did manage to utter a few more sentences but he became quite talkative once he and Rowan started talking about rugby. Aelin ordered a trip to the ice cream parlour. And the boys followed. Aelin took Elide’s arm and let Rowan and Lorcan follow. They were super immersed in their conversation. Aelin wished Lysandra was there too. She had a feeling the three of them would get along greatly. Aelin and Elide got a triple cone and the two men just went for something more sober with just one flavour. “Look at them all perfect and healthy.” Aelin mocked them and Elide giggled at her side. Rowan, in front of her just met her gaze and then licked his ice cream in a very taunting way and took great pleasure in noticing her reaction. Aelin almost chocked and his eyes flashed in amusement. A wall, she just wanted a wall and twenty minutes alone with him to remove that smirk form his face. He knew he had rattled her and hated the way he casually went back talking to Lorcan. She would have her revenge. Eventually her mind started functioning again and went back talking to Elide, hoping the woman had not noticed their exchange. That would have been embarrassing. Slowly they reached the festival grounds. They made it till four and they still had three hours to fill in before the main event. They all collected their tickets and ventured inside the main arena. Aelin squeezed Rowan’s hand and once she turned to him she noticed he had the most amazing smile. “We got a concert coming up.” Said Elide, then grabbed a notebook and scribbled something down “this is my number. Text me later. We can meet again for the main event.” Aelin took the piece of paper and then the notebook and wrote her number for the woman “Looking forward to.” The two said their goodbyes and Rowan finally pulled Aelin to him and kissed her deeply “I had to restrain myself all afternoon.” “You are a wicked man,” a whisper against his lips “You will pay for the ice cream trick.” But in response his kiss deepened and his tongue repeated some of the motions he did early. “Unless you want me to drag you in a hidden corner and have sex at a festival, you’d better stop it.” He laughed “Yes, Fireheart.” And mirth flashed in his pine green eyes. “Come on, let’s go and have a look at the merchandise. See if we can get you a P&D hoodie.” And he dragged her to the area with all the stalls. “Uh, food stalls.” She pulled on one side. “Later. We just had a massive lunch and ice cream.” “You are no fun.” She complained while following him. He walked with her in tow for a little longer and they finally found all the stall with the merchandise for the bands and the festival in general. “Look,” he said to her pointing at the big stall of the band “Good thing we are here early, we can do all these things now. Later on it will be mobbed.” Aelin got closer to the stall and started having a look at the hoodies. She noticed a green one and gave it a try. She had decided that for some reason green reminded her of Rowan, perhaps for his eyes, but the colour now was a reminder of him. She tried on the hoodie and Rowan turned and stared at her in appreciation. “You look lovely.” “I’ll take it.” As Rowan turned again, apparently interested by what was going on on the big screen and she used the moment to buy a t-shirt for him. His birthday was coming up and this was the second part of her present. She paid for her stuff and quickly placed the t-shirt in her backpack before he would turn again. She embraced him from behind and leaned her head against his back, he turned, “I really, really like it.” And kissed her forehead. They wandered a bit longer until they finally reached one of the smaller stages where the first band they were waiting for was going to play soon. They did manage to squeeze to the front and Aelin felt bad for whoever ended up behind Rowan. He pulled her in front of him and his arms went around her neck “Are you ready to sing?” She nodded. The band was called Skipinnish and one was one of Rowan’s favourite and she agreed that they did some wonderful music. The group started with a slow song and Aelin danced on the spot in Rowan’s arms and she felt like the happiest woman alive. In his arms she was finally happy. As if the last year ceased to exist all of a sudden. That had been his magic. He had slowly taken away all the grief she had felt until only a few months ago. He had given her again the desire to dream. She squeezed his hand and tried to convey somehow all those feeling in that simple gesture. The music suddenly picked up in pace and Rowan turned her to him, one of her hand landed on his chest and the other one in his hand that he held high. He started dancing and she swayed with him, then he lifted her and turned on the spot and put her back. A quick kiss and they kept dancing. His eyes alive with happiness. She giggled and he smiled at that sound. All through their dance, Aelin sang, impressing him by her knowledge. She only refrained from singing the songs in Gaelic, that was still too much of a challenge. They danced for another few hours then they moved to the next stage where Skerryvore, the next band they wanted to see was going to play. This time they ended up at the back, but Rowan had Aelin climb on his back, piggyback style, and that allowed her to see the stage a little better. She could not dance but loved her position. Her chin leaned on his head and her arms went around his neck. She took a sniff of his wonderful scent of pine and snow and kissed the back of his head. One of Aelin’s favourite songs began playing and she sang out loud you and I, we held each other tight. Time will take its toll, but I will never let you go. Your love is like a high, you and I. Our love can never die, together as we grow. I’ll always let you know, you’re my reason why Rowan joined in and she hugged him tighter and her head leaned against his head. “I love you,” she whispered while he was busy singing the chorus. It was past six when the concert finished. Aelin looked at her phone and noticed a text from Elide telling her that she and Lorcan were already at the main stage and they had a spot at the very front. “Let’s go.” Aelin grabbed Rowan’s hand “Elide and Lorcan have spot fro us as well at the front of the stage.” Luckily the main stage area was not busy yet, and they found the couple quite quickly. Rowan had a look and noticed they had found a good spot. “This is perfect.” Rowan commented. “Not our first festival.” Lorcan grinned back. Aelin and Elide were huddled together talking and being all excited for the grand event. Aelin paraded her hoodie and Elide showed her the t-shirt and the hoodie she had bought as well. Rowan really thought he had created a monster. With the passing of time the area started to fill and Aelin could feel the excitement around them. Half an hour later the show started with a roar. Aelin climbed on Rowan’s shoulders again and she noticed that Lorcan offered the same to Elide. Aelin roared as well and shouted as soon as she recognised the notes of the first song Stornoway of course. She sang with all of her voice and waved her hands in the air. She and Elide grabbed their hands and sang and waved together. Then they moved to Western Isles and the crowd went wild. Rowan laughed at Aelin’s wild excitement and was impressed by the fact that Aelin really had learned all the lyrics. “And that’s the way we do it, the way we do it in the Western Isles” she was singing with a passion and his mind went to that morning when she was cooking breakfast in nothing but a baggy t-shirt while singing and dancing to that song. Rowan moved a bit dancing as much as possible with Aelin on his shoulder but he sang as well and with his hand he beat the rhythm on Aelin’s legs. The band was playing some of their hits and he was having the time of his life. He had never been able to convince Lyria to go to Heb Celt with him. Her music taste was different and she was never interested in that type of music so he had gone alone for a very long time. But now he had Aelin and she was basically perfect. The guys started playing My islands and Aelin let out a savage cheer and then started to sing. She slowly slid off his back and started dancing and jumping in front of him shaking her head at the rhythm of the music Elide at her side being just as wild. She took his hands and danced on the spot as much as the crowd allowed it. Aelin took some photos of her and Rowan and went back dancing. It was quite late when the concert finished. Aelin and Elide were now walking silently hand in hand with their respective men. “I think they finally ran out of fuel.” Joked Rowan, seeing the two women quiet. “It took them a while, but eventually it happened.” Joked Lorcan who had slowly opened up a bit more. “You are both so mean.” Said Elide leaning against Lorcan. “Yes, and you are going to fall asleep soon.” Lorcan crouched down and offered to carry Elide piggyback “Come on, time to get you to bed.” “Are you coming to the ceilidh at An Lanntair tomorrow?” Aelin and Rowan looked at each other “we might,” she said. “Let us know.” Said Lorcan settling Elide properly on his back “Thanks for the day and evening.” And the two slowly walked away. Rowan turned to Aelin and noticed she had a massive grin on her face. Alas, she seemed to have some energy left. “That was awesome.” She took both of his hands “And we need to go to the ceilidh tomorrow. It’s your birthday. We need to celebrate.” “Fine. We can go. But now we are going home. You have to rest and recharge the batteries for the ceilidh.” She leaned forward and kissed him “Thank you so much for this. It was unbelievable.” He pulled her to him and lifted her and pirouetted while kissing her. Finally they started making their way home and when Rowan noticed that Aelin was on the verge of falling asleep on her feet he offered a piggyback ride and she accepted. By the time they got back home she was fully asleep. At home he deposited her on the bed and he started to ponder how to get her out of her current clothes and into a pyjama. He went to get her Cookie Monster pyjama, removed her hoodie and placed it on the chair at the bottom of the room. Next it was the t-shirt and her shorts and he tried to look away. He was about to put the new clothes away when she groaned and woke up briefly. “I am just changing you into your pj.” He told her gently. Still half asleep she let him guide her body into her night clothes. Then he realised she liked to sleep without a bra and he had no idea how to solve that one. “Bra…” she muttered. “I am… you…” he tried to hide his embarrassment “you do that.” She muttered something unintelligible and removed her bra and threw it in his face. Then collapsed on the bed and went back to sleep. Rowan slowly tucked her in then changed in own night clothes and joined her. His arms went around her waist tucked her head in the crook of his neck. Not longer after he was asleep as well.

#rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #fanfic #fluff #throne of glass series

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hoe-doroki · 4 years

Text

impetus

A part of the ‘A Spare Heart’ series.

pairing: eventual Shouto x Reader later in the series

wc: 2.1k

genre: friendship

warnings: consensual use of Brainwashing and...subspace vibes?

summary: Ever since Shinsou found out what your quirk was, the two of you have been each other’s best friends and confidantes. But when he turns a casual training session into a tease over your supposed crush on someone in your class, that trust might just break.

a/n: It’s helpful, though not necessary, to have read Hollow Victory before this one, or at least its second chapter in order to understand the reader’s quirk. There are also references to an unpublished, upcoming story.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

It was the wilderness of the U.A. campus, the part of the woods where you couldn’t even see the tall buildings, hear the constant explosions from the training grounds. You were walking around aimlessly, doing figure eights through the trees, touching your fingers through some of the low hanging branches, rocking a few steps up on your tip toes and then falling back to rock on your heels. It was drifting, completely meaningless as you focused on the subtle feeling of cutting through the air with every step, how your arms so gently swung in tandem with your legs—all the things you never usually thought about while walking.

“Now raise one foot to walk over the tree root. Okay, walk the same path again.”

Your body went where you were told, your toe lifting just over the gnarly root bursting through the grass, blond on top from where a lawn mower had nicked it. But still, it brought the big tree that was shading you water and security in the ground, no matter how many times its top was shaved off by mechanized blades.

“Walk it exactly ten times.”

Your body continued on the same path, just wide and winding enough not to be dizzying as Shinsou controlled your movements. It was nice to be completely out of control, for someone else to take the mechanisms of your body making all the decisions while your core kept you breathing, your heart beating. It was a shame people feared Shinsou’s quirk, avoiding any question he asked them with suspicious silence. There was nothing more freeing for you than this. And he got to work on the nuances of his quirk.

“You know, I feel I should tell you that I’m the reason Midoriya and them found out about you.”

It took a few seconds for his words to register as something other than a command. They pulled you out of your mindless, almost meditative space. You probably would have given a soft “Hmm?” if you could have, but, of course, you couldn’t speak.

“Technically, Google is what told them about you, but I’m the one who told them they should do it. Even though any idiot should be able to Google something.”

The path he had laid for you had you conveniently facing almost entirely away from him. You couldn’t move your neck or even your eyes, so as you walked, they stayed perfectly forward, in line with your spine and your chest and the heels of your slightly turned out feet. So you couldn’t see his body language or even if he was looking at you.

“So I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I guess. Even though all that I knew I found from the internet, I shouldn’t have told them anything. It wasn’t my business. Keep walking, but you can speak.”

The sudden control over your jaw, tongue, lips didn’t feel any different than the lack of it had felt a moment before. From past experience, you knew that if you’d been fighting the control, you would have just felt a distinct drop in tension from those areas, but you hadn’t been fighting. “Have you been thinking about this since July?”

“I guess so. I thought about it a bit while you were gone over summer break.”

“I wish you would have told me,” you said, also wishing your eyebrows could curl up in sympathy, but your face was fully blank except for your lips. Not that he was probably looking at you anyway.

“Because I’m not mad. Telling them to Google me isn’t exactly a betrayal.”

“I know, so I didn’t feel especially bad but still. It’s better for you to know.”

“I agree. Thanks for telling me.”

“Close your eyes and walk the same path.”

Your eyes shut instantly, but it felt like you’d lost control of your limbs—ridiculous since you weren’t controlling them in the first place. But there was a spilling of your equilibrium, your center of gravity swaying from side to side as your body suddenly forgot the path it had wrought for the last few minutes.

“Freeze!” Shinsou yelled suddenly and your whole body stiffened, just as your lifted right toes tapped something hard on the ground. “Open your eyes.”

Your slightly downward gaze spotted your slightly elevated foot just about to tip over the root cutting through your path. You’d been about to eat shit.

“Put your foot down and stand tall.”

You did, you shoulders rolled back in slightly better posture than you usually took. You’d learned good posture in the ballet classes your parents had put you in as a youth, but, as you were in the middle of your teenage years, you’d taken on the slump that all your peers adopted, the adolescent hunch of lackadaisy. Even though the fellow teenagers you were surrounded by were the most passionate people you’d ever met.

Shinsou stepped into your line of sight, an awkward smile on his face. “I guess that one didn’t work.”

You tried to speak, but his command to freeze must have canceled out his previous command enabling your speech. Then, all at once, you felt the hold on your tongue, the commanded posture release and your shoulders slumped. You were back to yourself again.

“Seems that walking with your eyes closed can’t work when you need your eyes to walk,” you said.

Shinsou shrugged. “It’s good to know. Ready to start again?”

You shook out your limbs a little. Nothing felt too stiff, since even with Shinsou brainwashing you, you would still walk with your normal gait unless he directed otherwise. But still, a little wiggle felt good, and when you were done, you stepped over the root you’d almost tripped over and nodded at him. “Yes.”

At your response, you felt Shinsou take gentle hold over your body again and he told you to walk the same path as before. Your body did, taking up the figure eight around the trees once again. It seemed that since your brain still knew what the path was, it didn’t matter that he’d dropped control of you in between commands. You felt yourself relaxing again, falling easier into the meditative place this practice took you to every time you and Shinsou did it. You heard birds chirping, leaves rustling, and wind whistling. Aside from the path ahead, there was nothing else to think about.

“Go confess your love to Todoroki-san.”

Your relaxation broke in an instant as suddenly all corners of your body flexed and failed against Shinsou’s hold on you. A scream of refute pealed from your mind, but it failed to make it past your lips as that old tension locked your jaw back up again. Your body began walking mechanically toward the 2-A dorms. You had no idea if that’s where Todoroki really was, but it must have been your subconscious’s assumption, as it was the first guess off the top of your head as well. But God, you hoped he was at the gym or the library…anywhere but where your footsteps were taking you.

Suddenly, the connection broke. The remains of your ended scream bled off your lips as a breathy “No!” squeezed out of your tense vocal folds. You spun around toward Shinsou, whose shoulders bounced up and down a couple times in a silent laugh that he was obviously trying to hide on his face. Then he put his hands up in an expression of false apology.

“Hey, you don’t think I’d actually make you do that, would you?”

“I’m not sure,” you growled. “Maybe it’s your idea of a funny joke.”

“No, this is my idea of a funny joke,” Shinsou corrected. “No harm, no foul.”

But as your face grew hot, you could feel the harm. Why had he even thought of that as something to do? Where was the comedy? What was the joke?

“I have every right to use my quirk on you now. Maybe you’ll feel some shame.”

“I’m sure I would feel ashamed,” Shinsou agreed. “But this was just practice, in case I really need to do this some day.”

You squinted at him. “Is that supposed to be a joke too?”

Shinsou seemed to catch onto your bewilderment and his head tilted to the side a crude imitation of sympathy on his face. “What, did you think I didn’t know?”

“What exactly do you think you know?” you asked, knowing exactly what he thought he knew. “I’m not in love with Todoroki-kun.”

“Well, maybe not love, but you certainly like him a lot, yes? C’mon, Y/N-chan, this isn’t news,” he said. “You talk about him…not infrequently.”

“He’s one of my best friends,” you explained, your heart beating quickly. You weren’t sure if it was remnants of the panic Shinsou’s command had sent through your mind latently hitting your bloodstream or what, but the heat in your face was spreading down your neck rapidly. “Of course I talk about him.”

You really didn’t understand Shinsou’s angle here. You probably talked about him with Todoroki as much as you talked about Todoroki to him, and Todoroki had never leveled this kind of accusation on you before. Not that you could imagine him doing so. But still, even if you imbued him with a feeling of truthfulness or if Shinsou brainwashed him the way he’d just done to you, you couldn’t imagine that kind of trash falling out of Todoroki’s mouth.

“You…” Shinsou blinked. “You don’t know. Or you’re in denial?”

“Look, as the person who’s kind of the expert on feelings here, hear me when I say this,” you started, referencing your quirk. “It’s possible for you to intuit a feeling that I’m unaware that I’m feeling. But it’s not likely. If I don’t know that I’m feeling it—as a person pretty goddamn in touch with my emotions—then it’s probably not there.”

Shinsou’s heavy lids were hanging tensely over his eyes. They were as squinted as ever, but there was a pinch to them as he continued to size you up. “Says the girl who had a childhood where kids teased you about being able to make people fall in love with her. The girl who had people run away from her, scared that she would do just that. Might that also be a girl who would be scared to fall in love with someone for real?”

The muscles around your lips tightened. “Sounds like you might be projecting a bit, Shinsou-kun.”

“Or empathizing,” he stated. “I thought that’s what we did for each other.”

If you refuted that line, then this would feel like a real fight. A breakup between friends. And your friendship was not what you were trying to stake this argument on, so you took a breath before you could tell him to eff right off or something similarly stupid, trying to get back a bit of that zen energy you’d felt while he’d been commanding your body to walk in lazy circles.

“Okay. I admit that I wouldn’t want to fall in love here,” you said. “Japan isn’t permanent for me, and I don’t think anyone I’ve met here would be willing to leave. So having anything more serious than a fling would be stupid.”

“So…you want to have a fling with Todoroki-san?”

“No!” you exclaimed. “That would be stupid too!”

“Fine!” Shinsou agreed, hands up. “I didn’t think so. But just…sometimes the things we want are what make us honest,” he said and he must have been thinking about his dream of being a hero. “And sometimes the things we want blind us to the thing next to it.”

You frowned, the profundity Shinsou had tried to create in the statement pissing you off a bit. His words were simple enough obvious even, so it almost felt like an insult for him to say them like they never would have occurred to you.

Still, you were suddenly aware of a light simmering in your body, new and uncomfortable. Unnamable. When warming a pot of water, the water might be boiling for minutes before you noticed the soft popping, the light roiling of the bubbles. But once you heard it, the sound was going to stay in your ears, urging you to action. It was telling you to dump in the noodles, pour the water over a tea bag, lower the temperature on the stove. The bubbling was the indication, but you had to be the impetus. Otherwise, all that potential would take its time bubbling away, disappearing slowly into vapors you’d never see, and, eventually, you’d be left with no water at all.

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todorki x reader #a spare heart #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #bnha fanfic #bnha fic #mha x reader #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha fic

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roseinaugust · 3 years

Text

Like an Old Enemy

Chapter Five: Out of Luck, Love Bug

Summary: Miraculous Enemies AU. Gabriel Agreste has the Black Cat Miraculous in his possession, so when his wife, Emilie, "disappears," he sends his son, Adrien, undercover to pose as Ladybug's partner. Two years later, the once famous duo are sworn enemies. Marinette might have loved Chat Noir once, but now she would stop at nothing to defeat him. Adrien will do whatever it takes to bring his mother back. Best friends in their civilian lives, Adrien and Marinette find obstacles and complications when they can no longer deny their love for each other. But will they be able to understand and forgive the mistakes of their past? Or will they be doomed to end as bitter rivals a second time?

Rated: T

Pairings: Ladybug/Chat Noir Enemies, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Mutual Pining

Word Count: 6,243

Read on: ao3

A/N: I am only posting part of this chapter on tumblr so please read the rest on ao3!

Defeating Syren was no easy feat.

Still weak from the aftereffects of the Black Potion and her near-drowning, Ladybug was slow in her attacks. Chat Noir fought with a vigor she had never seen before. His reaction sent her mind spinning. He had saved her—breathed life back into her—but, why? He was ambivalent to the loss of civilian life, never harming anyone himself, but not above risking their lives if it meant he could claim the Miraculous. So, why did he rescue her? Who was Marinette to him? And why did it pull on her heartstrings?

The sound of her name in his voice could have stopped her heart a second time. She wanted to ignore the pull in her chest on that rooftop. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was thankful he was there to help her. It was easy to mask her confusion with anger; she had done it often enough after his betrayal, when her mind was full of hate but her heart longed for his love.The burning in her lungs matched the fire in his eyes when she begrudgingly challenged him.

After he left Marinette alone, her questions hanging in the space he once stood, she had to reorient her priorities. She didn’t know if it was safe to use her Aqua Power-Up after her foray with the Black Potion, but it was the only way to defeat Syren. Her exhaustion wore her thin and she needed to defeat the akuma before her energy gave out altogether. With the ability to breath underwater—something that would have been helpful earlier—Ladybug was able to defeat Syren and return Paris to its original, un-flooded, state.

She hid in an alcove of the pool to de-transform. The lingering effects from drowning disappeared with the water that once filled her lungs and the streets of Paris. The Magical Cure eased her ragged breaths but the ache in her head remained. Marinette peered over the wall at Kim and Ondine talking shyly by the bleachers. She smiled at the two before creeping through the back exit.

Marinette was thankful the akuma battle ended near her house. The day’s events exhausted her, both physically and mentally. It was hard to imagine that just a few hours ago she had dreaded going to see the Guardian. Her brain pulsated with every step she took. Although she was dry, the memory of the Black Potion made her shudder as if she were still soaked. This was by far, her most physically taxing akuma battle, but was it her most emotional? She didn’t know. The pain from the Black Potion, the sensation of drowning, the electrifying shock of her emotions on that roof with Chat Noir… She paused in her thoughts. It definitely gave a different akuma battle a run for its money.

She reached the bakery and climbed the flights of stairs to her attic bedroom. Her mind drifted back to Kim and Ondine. Although he looked a bit nervous, he seemed excited to learn about Ondine’s feelings for him. As Marinette opened the trapdoor, she yawned, happy that he finally moved on from his crush on Chloé. That had been a disaster. If only she could move on from her feelings for a certain cat…

She crawled into the warmth of her bed, the tension in her limbs released, now that she could rest. Weariness encased Marinette, the fuzzy softness of her blankets fogging her mind. Memories of flying cupids and arrows of hate swirled in her head as she drifted into a deep sleep.

Meet me at our spot.

Ladybug stared at Chat Noir’s message on her Bug Phone, a giddy thrill lighting up in her at the familiar five words. They weren’t scheduled for patrol and there haven’t been any akuma alerts today. He had thought about her. Did she exist in his mind the way he did in her’s? Did she float through his thoughts, commanding his attention, outside of the mask? They were partners—friends—but did the thought of her bring a blush to his face? Her own face reddened, almost to the same hue of her costume. He had thought about her, and he wanted to see her.

Ladybug dropped onto the roof of her favorite spot in Paris. The building itself was inconspicuous, the same beautiful French architecture as every other structure lining the street. The uniformity is what drew them in all those months ago. It wasn’t remarkable or important in any way; just an ordinary rooftop to meet for patrol, away from the prying eyes of citizens and the looming threat of Hawkmoth. It was a place for themselves, and themselves alone.

Chat Noir was already on the rooftop when Ladybug arrived. His back was to her, looking out at the city, the Eiffel Tower in the distance. He stood with perfect posture, rigid almost, with his hands clenched together behind his back. Formal. Like a soldier standing at ease.

“Hi, Kitty.” She said, alerting him to her presence. As he turned to face her, Chat Noir’s entire being changed. His shoulders relaxed and his head lolled to the side as that famous lazy grin spread across his face. It seemed as if any pretenses, any issues he faced day-to-day, were erased with her arrival. The ease of their friendship—of her presence—calmed and comforted him.

“Hi, Bug.” His smile widened with the use of the pet name he attributed to her. She liked to roll her eyes, pretend the nickname annoyed her, but her affection grew every time. She crossed the flat roof to where he stood.

“So, what’s up? What’s the urgent meeting for today?” Ladybug joked, expecting one of the typical excuses they used when they wanted to hang out. With the mention of his text, Chat Noir’s eyes fell. His lax body language disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced with an unsettled expression.

“Ladybug,” He started, his voice devoid of its humorous cadence. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”

“What is it?” She had never seen him this rattled before. What could he have to tell her that would illicit this response? She looked up at him, eyes wide beneath the July sun. He hung his head. Whatever it was, it affected him like nothing she’s ever seen before. He was making her nervous, but she could see through his silence. He was searching for the courage to tell her. With a deep breath, Ladybug resolved that she could be brave enough for the two of them. She took a step closer, eliminating some of the space between them. She lifted a hand to his face, raising his head to look her in the eyes. Ladybug rested her gloved hand on his cheek, smiling kindly. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, Chaton.” Something broke behind his eyes and his mouth twitched into a frown.

“I—Look out!” Before she could tell what was happening, a large figure flew over head. Chat Noir hugged her tight and spun, shielding her body with his own as an arrow flew into his back.

“Chat Noir!” She called out as he tightened his arms around her. She struggled against him, trying to see if he was hurt and what that flying thing was.

“Ladybug, I…loathe you!” He spits the words out, a tone he never used with her before. She tried to push him away but his embrace was unbreakable steel. The flying creature landed on the rooftop. How did it even find them there? She didn’t have time to ponder the question. The akuma villain moved closer, cackling.

“Finally! Soon I’ll destroy all love. As soon as I get your Miraculous, Paris will be the City of Hate!” She recognized that voice. Ladybug looked over her shoulder to see the supervillain was her classmate, Kim. A bow and quiver strapped to his back in between the large black wings. The sun glinted on a heart-shaped pin attached to his strap. It was the pin he showed to her and Alya the day before; the one he planned to give Chloé for her birthday.

Dark Cupid approached and Ladybug needed an escape. Chat Noir yelped in pain, releasing his iron hold on her as she brought her force down onto his foot. With her newfound freedom, she whipped out her yo-yo and escaped before the akuma could steal her earrings. She ducked into an alley to regroup.

Chat Noir had been hit with one of Dark Cupid’s magical arrows, turning love into hate. But what type of love did he feel for her? Platonic or romantic? Her pulse quickened. Was that what he was going to tell her before they were interrupted by the akuma? She shook her head, clearing the thoughts that clouded her mind. She needed to focus on how to defeat the akuma instead of projecting her feeling onto Chat.

She crouched behind a pile of boxes as a figure flew overhead. Once Dark Cupid passed by she stood up, only to be knocked back into the wall by Chat Noir’s baton. So used to his presence, she hadn’t noticed him enter the alley. With a grunt, Ladybug pushed up, drawing her yo-yo shield.

“Chat, please! I’m your friend” She pleaded, hoping that her words could bring her partner back. “I don’t want to fight you.” I don’t know if I can fight you, she thought. She’s never fought without him by her side. They were a team, he was her friend—the one person she trusted with her life. The prospect of opposing him twisted her stomach into knots. His lips curled into a sneer, chilling her to the bone despite the summer heat.

“You’re not my friend. You honestly think I like you?” The malicious words cut into her heart. Ladybug was thankful for the shaded alleyway disguising the distress that passed over her face. The logical half of her brain reminded her that he was under Hawkmoth’s influence. The insults he threw in tandem with blows of his staff were not how he truly felt about her. But how did he feel about her? Her thoughts drifted once again to unspoken topic on the roof. Anxiety clawed at her to know what he had to tell her, but she would have to wait until she had her partner back.

The alley was too cramped to fight; she needed to be in the open and to find Dark Cupid. She hooked her yo-yo around the boxes she hid behind and tossed them at Chat Noir. They collided with his chest and he tumbled to the ground. Ladybug bolted into the street, Chat Noir nipping at her heels. Dark Cupid stood atop a large fountain, arrows flying in all directions. Chat Noir appeared in front of her. He laughed, but it held none of its usual humor and warmth. They had her surrounded. She fought to keep from trembling; an akuma by itself was difficult, but she never expected to fight against Chat Noir too.

“Cataclysm!” He called for his superpower and glared at her.

“Why are you so full of hate, Chat Noir?” She asked, distraught and not expecting a reply.

“Because hate conquers all.” The words struck her before he did. They were reminiscent of the fairytales included in her summer reading. The beginnings of an idea formulated in her mind when Chat Noir charged. Her reflexes weren’t as fast as Chat’s, but she leaned backwards, ducking under his outstretched claws as his momentum pulled him forward.

“Lucky Charm!” A candy apple fell from the sky. Ladybug’s gaze jumped quickly around her surroundings when her eyes landed on Dark Cupid, notching an arrow directly for her. Her impulses carried through, throwing the confectionary at her classmate. He abandoned the arrow in his hand to remove the candy apple stuck to his chest, the sticky sweet sugar coated his hands and arrows. Ladybug watched Dark Cupid land in front of the fountain to wash away the substance. Distracted, Chat Noir tackled her from behind, pinning her to the cobblestone streets, his Cataclysm bubbling in the hand he held aloft.

“You’re out of luck, Love Bug.” He straddled her, tracing his non-cataclysmed claws from her jaw to behind her ear. The touch sent a shiver down her spine. Her plan was a long shot—they always were—but she had to try and bring back the boy she knew.

The middle of an akuma battle trying to break a curse was not how Ladybug imagined her first kiss, but as Chat Noir raised his hand, she grabbed hold of his face and brought his lips down onto hers. She had pictured it a thousand ways—always with Chat. Sometimes it was after they defeated Hawkmoth; others, it was after they revealed their identities, when she could be Marinette, and he could be an entirely new person for her to fall in love with. Most of her daydreams though, were simple. Sitting together on their rooftop, unable to contain their feelings for each other anymore, bursting at the seems with tension until they kissed in the sunset of their own little universe. When the responsibilities of superheroes faded into background noise and they could exist as teenagers. Maybe that’s what Chat wanted to tell her today before Dark Cupid attacked. Maybe she could have had the first kiss she’d been dreaming of for the past year. Instead, Hawkmoth violated their rooftop—the one place in Paris she thought they were safe, alone together, where no one could find them. Her first kiss was not what she expected. Unromantic, frantic, and desperate, it was reduced to a tactical move to disarm Hawkmoth’s weapon of destruction.

It was the first of many things she had sacrificed as a superhero.

Her lips pressed against his, silently pleading for him to return to her. He was stiff, unresponsive, clinging to the hate Dark Cupid injected into his heart. But after a few seconds, he softened into the kiss, hate leeching from his soul as Ladybug purified him of the curse. He pushed up, dazed and unaware of his surroundings.

“Ladybug? What’s going on?” He asked, his voice devoid of the menace from minutes ago. He was back. She could have cried from relief.

“No time to explain! The pin!” She threw Chat Noir towards Dark Cupid. They collided, wrestling briefly before Chat was able to Cataclysm the pin. A purple butterfly flew from the rubble, promptly captured by Ladybug’s yo-yo. “Miraculous Ladybug!” She cried, throwing the candied apple into the sky, curing the Parisian citizens of their hate.

“Pound it,” Chat Noir held up his fist, expecting Ladybug to return his fist bump. She ignored their typical gesture and jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly to her.

“Don’t do that again!” She buried her head in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “I never want to fight you again, Chaton.” Her words were muffled, but loud enough for him to hear. He was solid beneath her, strong and lean, but she didn’t know that she was holding onto mist; slipping away from her grasp, impossible to contain. She pulled back slightly, looking up to prevent the tears from spilling over her lashes. “So what were you trying to tell me earlier?”

His brows furrowed as he averted his gaze, still struggling to find the words. A beep sounded from his ring, giving him an excuse to leave. He backed away from Ladybug. “I gotta go. I guess I’ll just have to tell you later.”

“Kitty, wait.” Ladybug grabbed his hand, halting him in his tracks. She knew it was one of Hawkmoth’s tricks, and yet the ferocity in his voice set her nerves on fire. She needed to be sure. “You didn’t mean the things you said right? We—we’re friends, right?” She held her breath. His face fell for an instant, before giving her a small somber smile.

“You are my best friend.” His voice held so much emotion, but she couldn’t detect what emotion it was. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lightly. “Until next time, My Lady.” And then, like so many times before, he was gone. Evaporated into the air, taking his secret and her heart with him.

Marinette woke with a start, wet trails of tears flowing down her face. Moonlight shone through the door leading to her terrace; the afternoon sun has long since set. She pulled her knees up to her chest and lowered her head trying to calm herself after the nightmare. Except, it hadn’t been a nightmare. Everything she dreamt had happened—the unspoken secret, the stress of the battle, the kiss—all of it was real, occurring just days before she discovered the truth. The vivid memories of Dark Cupid’s akuma battle lingered in her mind. It must have been the Black Potion, because it was as if she was reliving the events rather than remembering them. She didn’t know if she was crying from the distress she felt fighting Chat Noir for the first time, or because she’s fought him every day since.

Dark Cupid was the last akuma she battled before discovering Chat Noir was working for Hawkmoth—the last akuma before she had to reanalyze every event of the previous year with the knowledge that everything Char Noir said to her was a lie. Marinette’s heart ached for the girl who stood in front of the fountain watching Chat Noir leave. She wished she could yell at her past self—don’t fall for his tricks!—but that girl was frozen in her memories.

She never learned what he was trying to tell her that day. It was probably just more pretty lies to string her along. The cruel irony is that it would have worked. After the trying events of Dark Cupid, she realized she couldn’t hide her feelings from Chat Noir any longer. She was going to tell him that she loved him. She was going to reveal her identity.

Marinette laid back down, staring up at the night sky. How many times had they watched these same stars from the privacy of their rooftop, wishing on any fallen star that he would kiss her? Or that she could show him her life underneath the mask? She hugged the square pillow to her chest, longing childishly for the cat pillow she discarded the previous year.

Chat Noir had come close to discovering her identity. Then and now. The Black Potion had been a disastrous risk, one she probably shouldn’t have taken. Her hand drifted to her sternum where she could still imagine the pressure of water filling her lungs. She inhaled, a sweet satisfying breath—something she too often took for granted. Chat Noir spent a year manipulating her but now the roles have reversed; she had been the one to deceive him. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was officially out of the running for teen superhero.

Fatigue from the chaos of the day lingered, despite her nap. Even so, she allowed herself a moment of relief. She wouldn’t think about her conflicting feelings for Chat Noir, or the fact that he had saved her life—and by extension all of Paris. She wouldn’t think about how she’d always known being a superhero was dangerous, but now that she had experienced true danger, it somehow seemed as if the stakes were raised. And she wouldn’t think about how she was no closer to defeating Hawkmoth and Chat Noir than she was a year ago, but they seemed to be encroaching closer to her every day. She wouldn’t think about any of that. Instead, as she stared hopelessly awake at the silent sky above her, she thought about how satisfying it felt to throw a rock at Chat Noir.

A/N: Reminder that this is only part of the chapter so read the rest here

#Miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fic #ml enemies au #ladynoir enemies #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #angst #angst fic #my fic #like an old enemy

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