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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years

Text

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n: This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert

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cloudteawrites · 3 years

Text

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place.

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon.

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful.

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer.

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored.

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum.

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.”

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart.

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle.

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.”

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy. “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back.

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…”

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.”

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.”

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation.

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent. Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think.

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night.

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk.

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted.

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen.

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert.

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.”

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you.

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him.

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first.

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.”

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache.

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.”

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too.

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.” You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking.

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's.

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist.

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin.

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?”

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles.

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting.

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another.

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.”

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room.

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #hybrid!bts #ot7 x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jhope x reader #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader

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dakarimainink · 3 years

Text

Babybump

WARNING: Fluff, a hint of angst, cute

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x You (Reader)

Wordcount: 1.4K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

"Hey, I love you writing and I was wondering if you can do a Pedro imagine where the reader is pregnant and like they didn’t announce it or anything and no one knew about it till they were seen in public. You can change it up if you want! Xx✨"

Okay, I am a slut, not even gonna try and hide it. As this was a request, I wasn't sure if you wanted smut or not, so that's why it is in two parts. Part one is pure fluff and no smut. Part two however is a smutty scene for those of you who wants to read about how they conceived the baby.

Enjoy! 💛

Part 2

Masterlist

You are nervous. It is obvious by the way you cling to Pedro in the backseat on your way to the gala. Your fingers intertwined into his big hand as you fiddle with the hem of his suit jacket.

He is nervous too, not because people will probably speculate, but he worries about you. The news is big, but neither of you like it when the media tries to poke into your private life before you are both ready to reveal it. It will come out eventually, but you want it to be from you and not rumours and pictures roaming about.

Your family and closest friends know. You chose to break the news three weeks ago. You remember the tears in your mother’s eyes and the warmest hug from Pedro’s father. But what truly stuck with you, was the moment you confirmed it to Pedro.

You knew for about five days without telling anyone. Pedro was away filming but had managed to squeeze in a night with you on a rainy Saturday. You had planned to go out for dinner, but in the last minute, chose to have a pizza and movie night. Cleaning the dishes from the pizza and preparing some snacks in the kitchen, you decide it was time.

You turned to him, biting your lower lip and he knew there was something immediately. At first, worry painted his face and he had walked over to you and wrapped you in his arms, kissing your forehead softly and asking what was wrong.

Tears were prickling in your eyes and as you looked up at him, more worry grew and you couldn’t help but feel happiness fill your chest, knowing this man was the father to your child.

A smile stretched across your face as tears escaped the corners of your eyes and you told him.

He was frozen, scanning your face and he went through all kinds of emotions before his eyes crinkled up into a bright beam. He pulled you in, holding you tight to him while murmuring all kinds of sweet words. Kneeling, he snuck his hand under your t-shirt and spread his hand across your belly, warmth filling you up. “Our baby.” He had whispered before looking up at you with tear-filled eyes.

You had made sweet and passionate love that night, his focus on purely satisfying you over and over and over again.

Pedro catches your chin and tilts it up to meet your eyes. He notices the worry in your eyes and gives you a gentle smile. Carefully sliding his hand further up, he graces your cheek with his thumb before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You look perfect.” He smiles.

You smile back at him, feeling a lump of worry surge in your belly. You know you could leave whenever you want to, Pedro had even offered to not go at all. A part of you wants everyone to know, but another wants to keep it a secret for as long as you can.

The car stops and your heart skips a beat as our stomach feels with dread. Your fingers grasp onto his hand, you almost missed the worried look on his face, his eyes scanning your features.

“We don’t have to, my love.” He whispers, gently stroking the back of your hand.

You shake your head. “I know, but I can’t avoid it forever.” You gulp, staring into his eyes. They crinkle at the gentle smile. He leans forward gently peck your lips, leaving a lingering touch on you.

As you give him a nod, he opens the door and gracefully climbs out before holding out his hand to assist you out. You place your hand in his and plant your feet on the ground before he pulls you gently out.

As soon as you were both outside, flashes and yells from the paparazzi filled your ears. Trusting Pedro to lead the way, he guides you onto the carpet and pulls you close to him, his hand resting on your side as you both face the paparazzi. From all the comments, none of them mention the tiny bump on your belly.

You sigh out in relief and feel more confident in your posture, straightening your back.

Pedro immediately notices and glances down at you with nothing but love in his eyes. His fingers twitch into your flesh before his thumb strokes up and down, bringing you more comfort.

~~~~~

You lay peacefully in Pedro’s arms, the morning sun peeking in between the curtains and a stripe of warmth licks your leg as it rests over Pedro’s hip. You listen to each other’s slow and steady breathing.

He had apologised for waking you up when he pulled you to him that morning, but you didn’t mind at all. It is where you belong, close to him. He left a few soft kisses on your forehead while you lay there resting, enjoying the calm morning. But the calm is interrupted as both of your phones won’t stop buzzing.

Pedro sighs, knowing exactly what all the texts are about. He had peeked at his phone before pulling you in, several messages commenting on today’s news. He had hoped it wouldn’t turn into something, but here you both lay, you – wondering what it all is about, him – wanting to shield you from the storm.

“Pedro?” You breathe, your eyes looking up at him from behind your eyelashes. “What is going on?” You have a feeling this is about last night’s appearance, but you wait for him to confirm it.

He looks down at you, a calm smile painting his lips. “Nothing we have to care about for now, my love.” He presses his lips to your forehead and nuzzles you closer to him.

You sigh out and drift off in his protective arms, knowing whatever is going on right now, didn’t need your attention.

~~~~~

He looks handsome, his calmness and confidence match great with his casual outfit. His hair slightly tussled from dragging his fingers through it again and again. You like his natural curls mixed with his grey peppered beard.

His eyes are resting on the woman sitting in front of him, but every time he glances at you, it fills you with butterflies. It’s not too obvious he is looking at you, as you’re standing a few strides behind the woman, listening to the ongoing interview of his newest movie.

“So, for some other big news, which I hope you can confirm for us, Pedro. A month ago, the internet went crazy over some new photos and headlines of you and your fiancé. Speculations of a potential new family member surged through several social medias. Could you perhaps talk a bit about that? Is it true?”

You knew the question would be asked, Pedro’s agent had agreed upon it before the interview took place. Pedro had asked you several times, if you wanted to go out with the news. You were a bit hesitant at first, but then again, might as well get it over with.

He gives the woman a smile before his eyes immediately seeks out yours, nothing but love is filled within his gaze. “It is with great pride and joy I can confirm my beautiful fiancé is carrying our future child. She is doing an amazing job and I can’t wait to become a father and see her be the mother of our baby.”

Your heart beats faster, tears brimming in your eyes as he speaks warmly of your future family. You know he is looking forward to it, but to see him like this, confirming the news and not leaving your sight, makes you warm from head to toe. You want to rush over to him, hold him close to you, but knowing interrupting the interview is not a good idea.

You wait patiently until the woman thanks Pedro for the interview. He immediately gets up from his chair and walks up to you, wrapping his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head several times and you wrap your arms around him.

“I will forever mean it, my love. I can’t wait to see you be the mother of our child, to carry them, to feed them, to help them grow up. I know you’ll be the best at it and every obstacle we face, we will face them together.”

You pull him tighter to you, a tear escaping the corner of your eye. “I love you.” You mumble into his chest.

He buries his nose in your hair. “I love you too.” He whispers.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80, @anaaaispunk

#pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #fanfiction #writing #fanfic #rpf #real person fiction #fluff #ao3

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

The Best Of Us

Batfamily x M!Reader

Word Count: 3,035 Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: And here we are with a Batbrother fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t an inferiority complex. Not really. He wasn’t prone to anger or any of the other symptoms listed under it—and he checked. Multiple times. But there was something about being the only non-vigilante in his family of vigilantes that made him feel inadequate compared to the rest. Bruce had the Justice League, Dick and Jason had their own fantastic groups that saved the day, and Tim and Damian were still in school, but even they had their groups too. Hell, even Alfred still had contacts from his days in MI-5. And yet, he had none of the skills his brothers or father had, no extensive martial arts training, master detective skills, or weapon mastery. He was completely normal—or maybe abnormal in this case. And on some level, he resented that he couldn’t be like his family—maybe he did have an inferiority complex.

***

The greatest thing in (Y/N)’s mind about still being allowed to live at home was that no matter what, there was always food around to eat—Alfred saw to it that every growing man in the house had enough to eat—that being said, their grocery bills were outrageouslyexpensive.

He balanced his tablet in one hand, the other hand adjusting the tie around his neck as he stepped into the kitchen, quick to raise the tablet in time to avoid whacking his youngest brother in the head.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking his seat at the table, just after Jason’s. A chorus of tired, ‘mornings’ came back at him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, loving the enthusiasm this morning, guys.”

Jason snorted and propped his chin on his palm, watching (Y/N) for a moment. “I seriously don’t understand how you’re always so chipper in the morning.”

He huffed a laugh and took a sip of the coffee that Alfred set down. “Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this group of gray clouds.” (Y/N) cast a glance at Dick who was shoveling eggs into his mouth. “And it seems like our eldest is busy feeding his bottomless pit.” Dick was fast to shoot him a glare, that he returned with a smile.

Just then, Tim trudged into the kitchen in an oversized hoodie and plopped down in his seat, immediately shoving the plate in front of him to drop his head onto the table.

“Jesus Christ, you guys,” (Y/N) sighed, flicking at his tablet for a moment. “You’ve seriously gotta take a day off to recuperate.”

“What do you think we do during the day?” Dick retorted, taking a swig of milk.

“Okay I think you’re confusing the entire day with the first half,” he reasoned. “When I say take a day off, I mean the whole twenty-four hours.” He glanced at everyone, and the only person who seemed to not be tired was Alfred, and that’s partly because (Y/N) believed he was immortal. “You guys are gonna run yourselves into the ground,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

“We know what we are doing, (Y/N),” Damian interrupted with a glare. “We know our limits better than you do.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. This conversation had happened many times before and it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m not saying I know them better than you Damian, I’m simply saying that you guys should take a day to relax so that something doesn’t happen on the job that you can’t control.”

(Y/N) glanced at his father. “Dad, c’mon, you know I’ve got a point.”

Bruce hummed and flipped the page of the newspaper. “So does Damian.” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and nodded. “You don’t have to worry so much, (Y/N). We know what we can handle.”

He stared at Bruce for a moment then scowled. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he muttered, and Damian was fast to chase his comment.

“I don’t know why you bother either. You’ve never once experienced what we do every night.”

(Y/N) met his youngest sibling’s glare. “Just because I don’t stick my neck out for each person in this city night after night doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to be exhausted.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you know what it’s like to be exhausted from blood loss because you’ve been stabbed or shot? Or to be exhausted from saving the lives of innocent people? You do?”

“I—” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut and looked away with a darkened expression, tasting something sour in his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damian finalized, and in the wake of the uncomfortable tension, a cellphone went off.

Everyone started looking for theirs, but (Y/N) muttered, “It’s mine.”

He picked it up and put on a cheerful voice. “Good morning Angela…yes, I just got the floor plan…” he tapped at the screen on his tablet. “Do me a favor and move the people from table eight to table three. Mr. Robinson is better friends with Mrs. Grace and will certainly give us a warmer atmosphere in that area.”

(Y/N) paused and listened, then he stood from the table and pushed his chair in. “Let me get to the office and we can situate the rest of the guests for tonight…alright, see you soon. Bye.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, then took the black backpack that Alfred was holding to him. “Thanks Alfred.”

“Of course, Master (Y/N). Have a pleasant day at work.”

He huffed a laugh, but it was anything but amused. “I have to give a speech tonight in front of the entire company and three different magazines.” He glanced at Bruce. “Think you’ll be able to attend tonight? It’d mean a lot to me.” Bruce grunted, his way of telling (Y/N) that he’d try, but to not hope for a miracle.

It was fine, he was used to parentless ceremonies and events. He cleared his throat and shrugged on the backpack, making his way to the garage door.

“See you guys later.”

***

He’d given a few speeches in his short twenty-four years, and while he’d never say he was an expert on public speaking, he did know his way around a podium. That being said, every time he had to do a speech, he felt like vomiting—nerves he chocked it up to.

(Y/N) cast a glance around the packed ballroom, quietly groaning at the massive amount of people. His own table was empty, save for Angela and thank god for him, Lucius. He couldn’t help but frown at the name tags sitting in front of the empty seats.

“Wondering where the rest of the gang is?”

He met Lucius’ eyes and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to think they took my advice and took the night off but…something tells me that the night called to them.” His lips pulled downwards. “I’m not going to act like this is a surprise, Lucius. I couldn’t even get them to show up for my university graduation.”

(Y/N) smiled and stood up, grabbing the notecards beside him. “What makes you think I could get them to show up to this?” He left the table and moved to the side of the stage, waiting for his name to be called. His fingers briefly shifted to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath chest, nerves causing his breathing to come in short bursts. (Y/N) shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting a pleasant smile cross his face as the presenter called his name, and walked up the steps.

The bright flash of photography momentarily blinded him, but he smiled through it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight at the Centennial Inside Alliance Award Ceremony.” He flashed everyone a million-watt smile. “My name is (Y/N) Wayne, and as many of you know, I am a senior editor for Inside Alliance. It is my pleasure tonight to recognize Inside Alliance’s top writer for the year.”

(Y/N) glanced around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the hundreds of guests.

“Inside Alliance was created on August fourteenth, nineteen-twenty by a group of immigrant mothers and fathers who wanted to bring knowledge of their homes and cultures to the rest of world. Some of those countries being Germany, Romania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Israel, and many, many others.”

“The production of their valuable time and extensive care created one of the greatest magazines that is still in business today, that brings attention to the worldwide issues that many groups face, while still connecting to their roots of educating the public on cultures and groups.”

He smiled. “It is with my upmost honor that I congratulate and introduce Miss Flora Janaliyeva, one of our newest and greatest writers that has joined Inside Alliance, and the winner of tonight’s Inside Alliance Award.”

(Y/N) turned to the side and grinned at Flora as she ascended the stairs. Her long black hair was braided down the length of her back and she wore a bright and floral-patterned gown. She reached (Y/N) and he reached with his right, shaking her hand, and handed her the glass award with the other.

“Miss Janaliyeva, it is with honor and congratulations that I give you this award for your excellent talent and recognition of ability from Inside Alliance.”

She smiled brightly and accepted the award. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, the honor is mine.” He nodded politely once more and descended the stairs as she began her speech, quietly taking his place back at the table.

“Well done, Mister Wayne,” Lucius smiled and (Y/N) let out a deep breath.

“I’m just surprised I was able to do that without stuttering or panicking.” He glanced over, smile lowering slightly. “Lucius, are you alright?”

The older man dabbed at his forehead and nodded, though when he breathed, it sounded labored. “I’m fine,” he assured, then reached up to rub at his chest.

(Y/N) shifted. “I don’t think you’re alright Lucius.” He leaned over. “Are you having chest pain?”

“I—yes,” he grit out then met (Y/N)’s gaze. “My chest is getting—tight and I…and I—”

He started to slump over and (Y/N) shot to his feet, eyes widening with fear. “Lucius!” The yell startled the crowd and Flora, who all looked over at the two.

(Y/N) pulled the older man back and pressed his ear to his chest, listening. He pulled away and yelled, “Someone call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack!”

He helped Lucius to the floor and immediately pressed his palms to the man’s chest, starting compressions. His breath came in panicked spurts and he kept looking at Lucius’ face.

“Just hand on Lucius. You’re going to be okay.” (Y/N) kept at it until the EMT’s arrived and they knelt beside them.

“Let us take over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Lucius would die, but one of the EMT’s placed a hand on his shoulder while the other slide their hands underneath (Y/N)’s.

“Son, we’ll take it from here.”

(Y/N)’s arms went slack, and he let the medic pull him away, watching as they took over and started moving him onto the stretcher.

“Please, save him. He’s—he’s friends with my family I—”

The medic nodded firmly. “We’ll do all we can.”

And all (Y/N) remembered was someone ushering him into a taxi heading for the hospital.

***

The first people that arrived were Lucius’ family who were grateful for (Y/N)’s actions, but the young man could barely grimace as they disappeared into the hospital room, leaving him sitting outside, his head in his hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought back to what the ER doctor told him.

***

“Mister Fox is in a stable condition, but you have to understand, Mister Wayne, his heart is very weak.”

“But—but he’ll be okay right?”

“Based on Mister Fox’s past conditions, he’s verging into heart failure. His heart is too weak to keep up with what the body needs.”

“And…and what does his body need at this point?”

“At this point? A new heart.”

***

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep the sob from escaping his throat, just as heard, “(Y/N)!”

His head shot up and he saw his father and older brothers coming down the hallway. (Y/N) clambered to his feet.

“Dad I—” he started, but cut off as he choked on a sob, and Bruce pulled him into a hug, holding (Y/N) as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried my best but—”

“Shh,” Bruce hushed, a firm, but gentle hand coming to rest at the back of his son’s neck. “You did all that you could.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “But Lucius needs a new heart, and I don’t know what to do. I should’ve seen this coming. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks and I—”

“(Y/N),” his father said firmly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He met Bruce’s eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His libs wobbled and he whispered, “But if I were like you guys, I would’ve seen something earlier. I didn’t and now…” sighing, he added, “and now Lucius needs a new heart, or he’ll die.”

Bruce’s sigh was heavier than (Y/N)’s and it made his chest heavy. “We’ll get Lucius a new heart, (Y/N).”

He lowered his head and lamented, “I’m sorry, dad.”

His father squeezed his shoulder then lead him towards Dick and Jason. “Take (Y/N) back home for the night. I’ll stay here with Lucius’ family.”

They nodded and led their brother down the hall, arms firm across his shoulders in a comforting way. They didn’t say anything, knowing that there wasn’t much to offer, but their support was enough for (Y/N), even if he felt horrible.

***

For being the World’s Greatest Detective, his son was evidently the World Best Hider, because it took Bruce a long time to finally find (Y/N). He stepped quietly over to the form sitting on the ledge and took a seat beside him, silently gazing out at the backyard. A bottle appeared in his vision and he focused on it as the smell of whiskey reached his nose.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked but took the bottle anyway.

“Jason gave it to me earlier.” He watched Bruce take a sip. “Figured it fit the occasion.”

Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Jason’s way of dealing with a problem.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, simply enjoying the calm around the manor and night.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Bruce suddenly said.

(Y/N) sighed and set the bottle down, kicking his legs out off the roof. “Lucius said he hadn’t been feeling well recently. And I just passed it up to getting older.” He looked at his father. “If I’d actually paid attention, then I would’ve seen the symptoms.”

“Do you actually know what the symptoms of heart failure and heart attack are?”

“I…no, not really.”

“Then you couldn’t’ve known.” He looked at (Y/N). “Lucius works in my office every day. If anyone should’ve known and seen it, it should’ve been me.” Bruce shook his head. “But you did everything you could at the awards ceremony, and that saved Lucius’ life tonight. You did good.”

“I could’ve done better.” (Y/N) muttered. “I should’ve. I’m your son and I’m practically useless to the family but—”

“Woah, woah,” Bruce interrupted, brows furrowing as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

(Y/N) turned to him. “I am the least useful person in this family. I mean you and the guys are these crazy intelligent, vigilante master detectives and I’m just me.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. “I can’t speak seven different languages or solve murder cases with a single strand of DNA left at the scene of a crime. Hell, I can’t even throw a punch.” He sighed heavily. “The last time I tried, I broke my hand.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he said, “I just want to be like you guys.” He lowered his head. “I just want to be normal and not an outlier in the family.”

Bruce simply stared at him for a long moment, and while he’d never been privy to let his emotions show on his face, he let them this time—shock and shame. Shame that he didn’t see his greatest achievement suffering.

“(Y/N).”

He didn’t look up at first, but then he did. “Yes sir?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Forever?”

His father sighed. “Son, I…I never wanted you to be like us.”

He gaped at Bruce. “What?”

“(Y/N), every person in this family is driven to do what we do because of our childhoods. You’re the only one who doesn’thave any skeletons in his closet.” He stared at him. “We wish every day that we could be like you and not a day goes by that we don’t think that.”

“I…what?” he floundered, absolutely bewildered at the idea that his father and brothers wanted to be the most boring person ever. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is.”

“No.” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m me. I’m plain and boring, work a nine to five job me. I mean I write for a magazine for god sakes! And you guys save the world!”

Bruce chuckled. “And what we wouldn’t give to be just a bit more normal like you, son.” He shrugged. “You think you’re inferior because you’re not a vigilante, but you’re the one thing that keeps us all sane. You give us the perspective of someone who isn’t what we are. Of someone who’s completely normal.”

He reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And being normal? Being you?” Bruce squeezed firmly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and though he felt tears in his eyes, he didn’t blink, didn’t let them fall. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.”

Bruce smiled heartfully. “You do, (Y/N). Everyday. Because you’ve always been the best of us.”

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haus-seeblick · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 1! “Harvest”

My first ficlet for Suptober! Read under the cut :)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2,218

Tags: Fluff, Disaster Bi Dean Winchester, Daydreaming about hot farmers, Some suggestive language (and swearing), Angelic wheat harvest assistance, The Dom Brow makes an appearance, Sam Ships It, Mini Case Fic

On AO3 here.

“All right,” Dean announces as he stomps into the hospital room, trailing mud with every step. “You’re not gonna have a problem anymore, Randy.”

The man propped up on the hospital bed cushions glares at Dean from under bushy eyebrows. “Well, it’s about time,” he snaps. “First these-- these things terrorize my fields for weeks, then y’all show up and are so useless that they maim me after you’re already on the case, and now I’ve lost the prime window to harvest a year’s worth o’ growth ‘cause I’m laid up in this godforsaken facility. So don’t you tell me I ain’t gonna have a problem anymore.”

Dean sinks down onto the rickety plastic chair next to the bed, moving gingerly to avoid jostling his (probably) dislocated shoulder, courtesy of some extremely vengeful spirits. He fixes Randy with an even gaze.

“Man, I’m sorry about your leg. I am. The spirits had a wider range than we thought and we figured you’d be safe at the house.”

Randy snorts in obvious derision, his scruffy mustache fluttering comically. Dean presses on.

“But, we’ve put them to rest. Your great-grandparents aren’t gonna give you any more grief.” Even if the rest of your family did totally fuck them over.

He stands again, awkwardly, and pats Randy’s good knee. “Sorry about your harvest, though. Can anyone help out? Neighbors? Friends?”

Randy glowers. “I ain’t takin’ no charity.”

Dean quirks his lips and nods. “Right. Take it easy, Randy.” He leaves the still-grumbling farmer behind, following his own trail of mud back down the hallway. A tall janitor lurking around the corner sends him a death glare and Dean tries for an appropriately apologetic smile.

It’s been a real headache of a night.

The pair of spirits haunting Randy Johnson’s wheat fields ended up being way more pissed off than Sam, Dean, and Cas had anticipated. By the time Cas located the heavy brass key to the farmhouse that was apparently tethering the property-line-obsessed spirits to the material plane, Dean and Sam were long out of rock salt. In their retreat, they’d ended up waist-deep in a pebbly creek, splashing and wobbling as they beat off the screeching spirits with crowbars. Dean has an unfortunately-placed boulder to thank for his dislocated shoulder -- he went down hard and clumsy just as Cas reappeared next to the stream, the old key melting dramatically in the bright glow of his palm.

The spirits burned away in a shower of sparks, along with Dean’s dignity.

To top it all off, Dean drew the short straw to go tell Randy the case was closed, and he may have stomped off in a sulky huff before thinking of asking Cas or Sam to put his shoulder right.

Oh, well. At least it’s dealt with. One more night in their more-stained-than-usual motel room, and first thing in the morning they’ll get the hell outta Dodge (almost literally - they’re up in Osborne County).

Dean thinks of a bright July morning on the open road and sighs in relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn’t get his wish.

“I just feel bad, Dean!” Sam protests as Dean gesticulates incredulously at him. (His shoulder was very pleasantly healed by Cas the night before, and if Dean noticed that Cas’ warm hands lingered a little longer on his skin than was technically necessary for a cursory dislocation repair, he didn’t mention it.)

“God, Sammy, yeah, it sucks about the guy’s leg, but maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole to everyone he knows, somebody’d help him out! It’s not-- it can’t be our problem.”

Sam crosses his arms stubbornly. “It’s not about Randy. His fields are part of a huge supply that feeds a ton of people. Do you want people to go hungry, Dean?”

Castiel chooses that moment to materialize directly next to Dean, his nose inches away from Dean’s cheek. He’s holding two steaming cups of coffee and Dean immediately grabs one. Cas squints and tilts his head. “Why does Dean want people to go hungry?”

“Oh my god.” Dean throws his free hand up. “Fine. Fucking fine. We’ll find someone who’s willing to plow the dude’s fields. That’ll be easy.”

Sam opens his big mouth, probably to say something about having faith in humanity, but Cas beats him to it. Still planted firmly in Dean’s bubble, he sends a puff of warm air against Dean’s face as he speaks.

“Oh. I can do it.”

Dean and Sam both look at him. Dean shuffles back a couple steps and wills his eyes away from the guy’s lips. He really spends too much time staring at them.

“Um--” Sam clears his throat. “You can harvest Randy’s wheat?”

“I can plow, yes.” Cas nods firmly. Dean’s first sip of coffee comes spraying back out. He pounds his chest and wheezes.

“Like-- like-- with a combine?”

Cas furrows his brow. “Is that a machine? No, I don’t require machinery. This is a very basic task.”

“Plowing,” Dean says weakly.

“Harvesting,” Cas corrects, tilting his chin down and narrowing his eyes. “Humans have been doing it for a very long time. I used to help, now and again. I can’t imagine the process has changed much.”

Sam slaps his thighs as he stands up from his bed. “Well! Look at that, Dean. Cas doesn’t want people to go hungry.”

Dean flips him off, but it lacks the usual heat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, they find themselves on the edge of a vast, lazily undulating expanse of gold. They’d skirted the north edge of the field extensively while working the spirit case, since the activity was strongest there along the creek, but in his single-minded focus Dean hadn’t really paid much attention to the field itself.

It’s big. Like, squint-into-the-distance-and-you-can’t-see-the-end big.

“You’re really gonna plow all that?” Dean asks, glancing at Cas. The morning sun is turning the tips of Cas’ hair a chestnut gold.

“I will cut down the stalks, separate the grain from the chaff, and deposit the edible grain into a large truck, which apparently takes it where it needs to go,” Cas says matter-of-factly. “I visited Randy early this morning to make sure I knew which truck it was.”

Sam laughs. “Oh yeah? How’d good old Randy take that?”

“He seemed dubious,” Cas says. “And rude. I assured him that despite his unsavory attitude, he would come home to harvested fields.”

“Very angelic of you,” Sam remarks.

“So how’s this gonna go?” Dean lifts a hand to block out the steadily-rising sun. “You gonna be flapping back and forth? Probably not smart to let the locals clock an angel doing the harvest.”

Cas arches an eyebrow at him, somehow gazing down at Dean despite being an inch shorter. “I don’t flap, Dean. I may have wings, but their movement in the ether is beyond your comprehension.”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his face away in a show of studying the field to the north, but mostly to conceal the flush of his cheeks in response to that eyebrow.

For Christ's sake, keep it together, Winchester.

“I can’t explain to you how it will look,” Cas continues, oblivious. “You’ll just have to watch. Anything you see will be for your eyes only. I guarantee no locals will ‘clock me.’”

Dean looks back just in time to see the tail end of the finger quotes. Cas is staring right at him, that damn eyebrow still up, a subtle challenge, daring Dean to make a move.

Maybe not so oblivious. Asshole.

Dean smiles sweetly and gestures at the wheat. “All right then. Have at it, buddy. Show us what you’ve got.”

With no further ado, Cas is gone. Dean’s left staring through the previously-Cas-occupied space at his brother, who’s grimacing with an air of great suffering.

“What?” Dean demands.

Sam sighs heavily and gazes out over the field. “You two are so weird.”

Dean’s about to respond with something really witty when Sam perks up and points into the distance. “Holy crap, look!”

Dean follows the path of Sam’s outstretched finger and his mouth drops open. On the horizon, at the far end of the field, there’s a cloud. No-- a mini tornado. A golden tornado. A… sparkly tornado?

“What the--” Dean cups his hands around his eyes like blinkers. Even with the glare of the sun blocked out, though, the tornado is just as bright -- a swirling, racing funnel criss-crossing the field way faster than a combine, or even Baby, could drive.

“Why is it-- what’s the sparkly stuff?”

Sam’s squinting too. “I think it’s the pieces of the stalks he’s separating? And they catch the light as they get tossed around.”

The tornado’s already halfway across the field, approaching them steadily. It’s about as tall as an oak tree, and as it gets closer Dean sees that Sam was right: thousands of little stalks and bits of grain and -- what had Cas called it? -- chaff are whirling and flitting amid the twisting golden dust of the tornado. The effect is a bit dizzying, kind of like that ocular migraine Dean had one time as a teenager, when an aura of tiny flashing spots obscured his vision, right there in his eye yet impossible to focus on.

He steps back instinctively, Sam mirroring his movement, when the tornado grows close to them. It whips past, blowing Dean’s jacket open, and where there was once chest-high golden grain, there’s now just dirt littered with aborted stalks.

“Damn,” Dean whispers. He’s seen Cas do all kinds of badass things, of course, but they’ve been more of the smiting and heavy-lifting variety. This is a new level of cool. In a farmer-y way. This, of course, leads Dean’s traitorous brain directly to images of worn flannel stretched tight over biceps; of a blade of hay dangling jauntily from chapped lips; of long, strong fingers gripping a pitchfork--

“--Dean!”

The pleasantly-evolving bubble bursts. Dean twitches as Sam elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude! Cas is done, come on.”

Dean blinks a few times to bring himself back to reality (a reality with wheat-harvesting angel tornados) and realizes that Sam’s heading north along the field to where a normal-sized, non-funnel-cloudy Cas is standing, brushing off his trenchcoat. Dean follows his brother and takes in the scene; the whole field really has been reduced to nothing -- just a flat, dappled expanse.

“Damn, Cas,” he says quietly as he reaches Cas’ side. His voice comes out strained and a little breathless. “That was some good plowing.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Can replies gravely. He tugs on his cuffs and some wheat dust puffs out. “It was an effective harvest. I disguised myself from mortal eyes -- including yours -- as I transported the grain to the truck, but I trust you saw the rest?”

Sam nods enthusiastically and launches straight into a barrage of questions about the physics and techniques and yadda yadda before Dean has to come up with a response. Yeah, I saw it. Yeah, it got me all tingly. That’s normal. He takes a few deliberate, slow breaths to calm the pounding in his chest.

Still tuning Sam out, he zeroes in on a single piece of wheat still stuck in Cas’ hair. It’s poking up toward the blue summer Kansas sky -- a tiny, trembling link between earth and heaven. Dean sidles up to Cas before he can overthink it. He slips his fingers into Cas’ wild, dark hair and plucks the wheat out.

He throws it on the ground. It belongs to the earth.

Sam falls silent with a choked-off laugh and Cas turns his trademark unblinking stare onto Dean. But this time there’s a slight crinkle to the edges of his eyes. A quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas says again. He reaches out and -- Dean stops breathing -- brushes another piece of wheat out of Dean’s collar. His warm fingers graze Dean’s throat and all Dean can do is watch the little stalk flutter to the ground.

Well. So much for a steady heartbeat.

“Hey, I’ve got stuff in my hair, too,” Sam announces, voice thick with amusement. “Anyone gonna help me out?”

Dean tears his eyes away from the enlightening piece of wheat and points a finger at Sam, leveling him with his sternest shut the fuck up face. He prays his cheeks aren’t flaming.

“If you need assistance, Sam--” Cas says, starting toward him.

“--He’s fine,” Dean interjects hastily. Maybe a little loudly. He coughs to cover it up. Smooth. “Let’s go. I wanna hit the road.”

Sam’s already jogging away before Dean’s done speaking. “I’ve still got the keys,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll warm up the car. You guys can catch up!”

Cas and Dean are left at the edge of the empty field. Dean rubs his neck and shuffles his feet, acutely aware of Cas’ piercing gaze. It’s nearly warmer than the morning sun. “Uh-- that was really cool, Cas. Thanks for letting us see it.”

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replies, measured and deep. “I enjoyed sharing that with you.”

Wow. All right. Dean needs to get moving or he’s going to explode. But not before filing that particular comment away for extensive mental perusal later, in the privacy of his bedroom.

He flashes a grin and punches Cas’ shoulder. “Come on, farmer angel. Let’s go home.”

#suptober21 #destiel #minific #i had fun with this #this is the first fic I'm ever posting y'all!#happy harvest

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

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MAYANS MC X READER + BREAST—FEED

Anon asked: May I request mayans Mc x reader on how the boys would react to reader being harassed why breast feeding.

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford for also helping me with those crazy ideas✨

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @arveeee ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

✨ ANGEL REYES

When Sofia starts to cry, you know it's time for lunch. You're not used yet to her lips destroying your nipple in public, but as father as daughter. You two are sitting on the grass of the Santo Padre's principal park. There's a lot of people around you of different ages, doing different tasks but having fun. So you don't give it so much importance. Taking your daughter between both arms, you put her closer to your breast so she can finally feed herself.

Angel seems like he's only enjoying some free time with his family, so proud of you, with his head above your lap and leaving some kisses on your forearm. Until he watches something he doesn't like. Some old men are whispering about you, and about the fact you shouldn't do it in public. But your husband is not going to let them bother you.

“Yo! What's'ap, ah?” He sits up on the grass moving his hands.

“She should do it at home”. One of them says somewhat upset.

“Why she can't feed my baby here, ah? Is yours that park, ah? Also, look at those tits! THOSE TITS ARE BEAUTIFUL, AND YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL FOR SEEING THEM!”

“Good god, Angel… Stop…”

“No! No, baby! What the fuck is wrong with them, ah? Go fuck yourselves!” Showing them the middle finger with a golden ring in it, he lies down again as if nothing happened. “Your tits are beautiful, mi amor. Never forget it”.

✨ CHE “TAZA” ROMERO

“You know that breast-feed gives happiness to the mother?”

The crew is looking at him with parted lips, freaking out that Che doesn't care about the fact that you're feeding his baby boy in front of them. He's totally like a hippie.

“Actually, doing it, the mother releases oxytocin. Love hormone. And by that, the tie between mother and child gets stronger”.

“Ok, we ju—”. Tranq tries to talk, being stopped by your husband again.

“And also relax the mother and free her from stress”.

“I'm not gonna ask again”. Bishop says, starting to feel uncomfortable as he has made you feel with those kind of questions.

“You sure? I know a lot ab—”.

“Yeah, Taza. I'm fucking sure”.

✨ EZEKIEL “EZ” REYES

Mario is inopportune as fuck. He always decides that he's hungry at the worst moment. EZ has to guide the shopping cart through the hallways of the market, putting in all the thing writed down in the list you made, while you feed your favorite boy on earth. You don't feel incommode doing it, but it hurts a little sometimes and growling in public isn't something you're into.

“She should wait to be outside”. You hear a man talking behind you, making you frown. Ez has heard it too.

“She should do it often in front of assholes like you, to shut the fuck up, man”.

The guys didn't see your husband, coming closer to them with both hands placed in the lapels of his Mayans kutte. The size of his arms and the cloth wearing him seems enough to make him run away from you. You laugh, leaning forwards to kiss him softly.

“That was hot, baby”. You chuckle before continue walking.

“Yeah, I earned the other nipple”.

“Ezekiel!” Now you're laughing loud than some seconds ago, while he places an arm on your shoulders.

“But I'm gonna take it at home. I'm too old to do it in public, don' you think, mami?”

✨ GILBERTO “GILLY” LOPEZ

An old man in front of you is staring at your daughter feeding against your chest. Gilly is looking at him back, frowning and feeling disappointed about it. And without expecting and no words, he takes off his shirt, leaving it by a side of the bench and raising his chin proudly.

“Do you like mine, ah?”

You can't help but break in laughs, shaking your head because he'll never stop surprising you.

✨ HANK “TRANQ” LOZA

Your husband just have to growl to the children looking at you, from the swings, to make them run away scared. With a soft smile on the corner of your lips, you look at him offering your right fist to collide it with his.

“Teamwork, papi”.

✨ JOHNNY “COCO” CRUZ

If the situation can't be more unrealistic, with Gilly and Angel looking at you amazed by Daniela feeding herself, Coco turna at you with the only intention to make them feel uncomfortable.

“Can I have some too?”

“YO! MAN! WHATTA' FUCK IS WRONG WITH YA'?!” Both gets up of the sofa with a disgusting gesture on their faces, shaking their heads as they go out of the Templo.

You're laughing as hard as you can, even if it bothers your daughter, because you can't avoid it.

“I was talking serious”. He says then, nodding slowly.

✨ MICHAEL “RIZ” ARIZA

As soon as you put a foot in the mall, the security ward stops you alleging that it's not allowed to breast-feed inside it. You can see Riz sideways frowning to the man and crossing his arms while he faces him.

“Why?” He just simply ask with a hoarse voice, twisting his neck somewhat lost about it.

“Sir, it's not allowed”.

“Yeah', but, why?”

“Because peo—”.

“Where does it say it is not allowed?”.

“Sir, ple—”.

You're just a mere spectator, enjoying watching your husband defend your rights and your daughter's.

“Should I let my baby die of hunger?”

“Sir, I didn—”

“But my wife can't feed her baby girl, because you say that somewhere it's says she can't do it”.

“Si—”.

“Cariño, Rita is ready”. You interrupt the security ward, ignoring him completely. “Hold her a second, please”.

Riz hugs his daughter, as if the other man wasn't there, while you put your shirt on before continue walking.

✨ NERON “CREEPER” VARGAS

Parking the car by a side of the rest area, your husband takes the advantage to buy some candies and the juice you're asking for since one hour ago, while you feed your baby champion. Resting your back against the door, outside of the car, to have some fresh air you can see sideways how a group of bikers are looking at you. And that, makes you feel somewhat uncomfortable, giving them your back and walking away some steps. Even so, you can hear them mumbling about it, till they scream a little begging for apologies.

“Next time, I'm gonna shoot you down, shitheads!”

You turn at your angry husband, pointing them with a gun. You blink several times straight, because you can't believe this is truly happening. And when Creeper is sure they're gone, he walks towards you keeping the gun behind his back, under the jacket.

“They haven't apple juice, but I brought you a peach one, baby”.

“Tha—Thank you…” You say containing some laughs.

“Is it good, buddy?” He asks like nothing happened, kissing Rico's head.

✨ OBISPO “BISHOP” LOSA

Having some free time with Bishop out of the clubhouse is like a miracle, so he decided to have dinner in a new mexican restaurant, next to your house. Resting your back against the chair, you place Amanda on your chest to fees her, leaving some caresses above her head almost brushing her hair with your fingertips.

“Miss, we have a rest-room to do it”.

The waitress claims for your attention, leaning close to not bother the other customers sitting around you. Your husband looks at him raising an eyebrow, sitting up on his chair and putting both arm above the table.

“She can do it wherever she want”. He just say, making the man turn at him, while some people turns at you too looking curious about the scene.

“Yes, bu—”.

“You know who I am, ah?”

“Sir, I'm ju—”.

“I'm the fuckin' Rey de los Mayas, and you're not gonna tell to the Reina de los Mayas where the fuck she can feed the Princesa de los Mayas. You heard me?”

“Yes, sir… I'm sorry”.

“Good. Bring me another beer”.

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everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Summary: The so-called chemistry between you two is superbly deadly, so why not take it to the next level?

Pairings: Testurou Kuroo x fem!reader

Word count: 5.3k

Tags, Genre: fake lovers! trope, slight angst

A/N: 🤺 stay back🤺feelings🤺

Maybe you should've disagreed on the 10th time or maybe the 8th or 11th?

Honestly, there was no stopping the couple of the year.

"She didn't really say yes at first but with a little push of love she finally did." Kuroo comments, a drink in hand as you smiled against his side, with his arm around you.

"Please, I didn't need a push. I was too in love with the dumbass to say no." Your relatives practically awe at your comment while Kuroo kisses the top of your head, as you smile to sell the deal.

"What are you guys planning on after you graduate? I hope you two continue to stay like this." One of your relatives says as you both recall the plan.

"Moving in doesn't sound so bad, right babe?" He asks you while you sip your drink, feeling his hand slide down to your waist while they cheer at his dialogue.

"I wish young love looked like this when I had it!"

"Y/N is so lucky!"

"Tetsu is the best man for Y/N!"

Sighing with pain to your gums, you spoke.

"Excuse me, I'm just going to refill my drink. Coming babe?"

"Of course, bub." He says before excusing himself as well, while he walks away, his hand loses contact with your waist knowing there wasn't a sight of anyone else in the kitchen apart from you and him.

And cut.

"I thought our fourth line was that we would take things slow—what you said was literally our fifth line, Tetsu. It's too early." You say as you actually refilled your cup as Kuroo sighs but he smiles, leaning on the wall looking at you.

"Well might as well go all out, I'm not an actor for nothing, babe." You sigh as you drank as Kuroo pats your hair, after a sip, you let out a chuckle.

"Actually, their reactions were everything." You say as Kuroo smiles before setting down the cup on the table.

"Did you see your grandmother? She's going to beg you to wear her wedding dress now." He jokes while you shake your head, denying the offer.

You introduced your relatives to him last year, he was thankful that you trusted him this well to get this far in your family. You hated how they fell into this little trap of yours but it was still entertaining to see them act like this, even if guilt trailed alongside it.

"Seriously, do we go over line 5 now?" You asked with a slight smirk as Kuroo intertwined his hands with yours, with the other ready to open the door.

"We'll see how our audience reacts first, babe."

"You did not— you guys are taking this too far. How are you feeling?" Yaku asks through the phone as you bit down on your finger as you tried to come up with another excuse to why you keep allowing yourself in this position.

"I'm fine Yaku seriously! Me and Kuroo are staying at this hotel because of the whole family event earlier." You ran a hand through your hair, feeling the stress set in that you were actually sleeping in the same room as him.

This faux relationship has never led to this point. Kuroo has asked you for permission in case he were to kiss your cheek, hand, or forehead and you allowed yourself every time because this is what you got yourself into in the first place.

You agreed because it didn't bring your heart leaps of excitement—not even a sight of a butterfly in your system.

No matter how many times he's held your hand or planted a kiss on your temple, it didn't feel like Cupids touch— the arrows of love purposely hitting you in the wrong places. You initially thought that it was actually risky, to find yourself falling sooner than expected but a year into this 'relationship' you actually enjoyed the experience without having your heart miss a beat because of it all.

Your bond with Kuroo can only be described by the words bickering and platonic. Because of the way you interact with each other and how you constantly visit each others places, everyone could see where this friendship could end up so you took this advantage just for people to avoid the both of you which turns out to be the opposite, now everyone wanted to dig themselves in the news that you actually got together.

"Y/N- Kuroo please explain your work here on the table." You had your experiment carefully in your hands as Kuroo guides you to the table as you went on with your explanation. The teacher was well impressed with the two of you with how prepared you are, you can thank Kuroo for that and your ability to act like you've got your shit together.

"This is why we-" You two said it in sync making the two of you stare at each other as Kuroo chuckles continuing the explanation while you were left to stay silent with the glares from the girls who admired him—and the boys who liked you sent their threats to Kuroo just by glancing at him.

"Thank you, good job you two. I see that chemistry suits the both of you." Your teacher comments and as you walked away you rolled your eyes, disgusted at the corny joke.

"It's working too well actually."

Someone shut him up. You think as you felt the urge to give him a punch to shoulder. Kuroo was dragging more attention to the two of you and you hated it. You knew they were all jokes from your classmates but Kuroo kept feeding and responding to these claims, now you were the center of curiosity.

"Tetsu, I will shove a foot down your throat." You threatened when you were back to your chairs he shrugged making you more irritated.

"It shut them up didn't they? Let's fake it instead." He suggests, now making you slap his arm but his smirk remained on his lips.

"Dumbass, we'd be surrounded with questions and attention- I hate this idea already."

"What about the free couple food and drinks at the mall? You don't wanna experience that?"

"You are not using that card on me, Tetsurou." You said pouting as your chemistry teacher sends a suspicious eye to the both of you, also signalling for you two to stay quiet.

"I know you and you know me well enough that this isn't gonna lead into an actual relationship plus my dad has been bugging me about a girlfriend for weeks." You sigh as Kuroo extends his hand to you, to finalize this outrageous deal.

Looking at where you are now, you wouldn't have it any other way even if it was odd to fake date your best friend. You wouldn't agree if you didn't trust Kuroo to an extent. He would never do anything that makes you uncomfortable, he dragged you into this so he was always careful with his actions. It was always your feelings before his even if his jokes didn't show it.

Kuroo enters the room with a yawn just as you ended the call with Yaku. You patted the space next to you as he plops down on the bed, his head on your lap as you ran your hair through his dark locks.

"Is my boyfriend exhausted from the attention?" You asked him with a giggle as he closes his eyes, in a trance at your fingers doing him magic as you continued.

"Isn't that the girlfriends job to comfort me?" He says, making you smile. There really wasn't any meaning to his words, you were glad that the two of you were sure that everything is a joke. If not, then maybe you two are absolutely fucked.

"Is it okay for you to sleep here? I can always drive us home if you want." You shake your head no as you leaned your back in the soft pillow, relaxing a bit.

" 'S fine, Tetsu. Looks like we're gonna have to sleep here for a while huh?" He sighs before sitting up and leaning on a pillow as well before planting his head on your shoulder, his hand comfortably resting on your knee. It was a habit he had whenever he comforted you in your sorrow but it grew when he does it under the table when you sat next to each other.

Kuroo denies that he's doing this because he just wants to feel close to you. He may be in a sea of people but if he holds onto you, he forgets them in a second. There's always a possibility for him to feel lonely in a crowd but this feeling washes away when he has a chance to feel you around him.

"Tell me if somethings wrong yeah?" He says softly as you nod and he leans to your body more, feeling drowsy at the warmth you gave.

"I do find you annoying, that's a problem right there." You joke as he rolls his eyes and pulling away from you and transferring to the right side of the bed.

"Good night then." He says stubbornly, covering his ears with the pillow while you laugh before going to the right side and drowning in the blankets.

"Night, Kuroo." You bid him as you turn off the lights.

The next morning you really wished you didn't give in to him.

Tangled in each others arms, the blankets scattered everywhere as Kuroo was snuggled into your neck when you woke up. It's difficult to move without worrying about him waking up, so you had to move little by little. First, you slowly remove his arm that was on your waist. Second, you tried to rest his head on the pillow instead of you. Third, you scurry away from him successfully.

All of these were disregarded when he pulls you back into his arms, mumbling something while you mentally groan. Kuroos fingers continued to gaze itself on your skin while you sighed, accepting it as it is.

"Tetsu-"

"Five minutes." He whispers not minding the state he's in. He moves away from you when he realizes the sleepiness in him has faded. He stretches, making you stand up and fix your appreance. He sits up after a few seconds and you turn to look at him and his bed hair which never fails to make you laugh.

"I don't allow bullying this early." He says as he throws on a proper shirt. You decided to fix the bed while he brushes his teeth.

"Tonight's the party right?" You asked him as he nods before spitting out the residue of the toothpaste. You went through your bag plotting out the outfits you could wear later. The event was a wedding week of your relatives and it was also an opportunity to set out your weekly episode of a relationship.

It's currently Saturday and the wedding is tomorrow. Tonight was basically a party for both sides of the family. One for the bride and one for the groom. You gave Kuroo a fair warning about their traits when they were drunk but you guys are third years—you've seen how people acted when they were intoxicated.

"Should we just drop line 6?" He jokes, making you throw a pillow directly to his face.

Let's do a role call on these lines.

Line 1 was the backstory of your lovestory. Silly as it may come to others, all these excellent lies were planned beforehand. Each and every one of them. To the date where you confessed, to the exact details on each memory, to the date you officially started dating and of course it included the story that Kuroo has told one too many times already, like a script he remembers with no trace of mistake.

Line 2 were the filler memories. Random come ups of dates and embarrassing stories to grab their attentions in each gathering. Though, this line is the most truthful then the rest. Some of these stories are actually true to life but those that are too romantically disgusting? You can thank your imaginations for that.

Line 3 is the talk of seriousness. Love has actually blossomed by then. It consisted of stories of who said "I love you" first and who actually fell first in the relationship. Mentions of what moment made them realize how in love you were and precious memories that could make everyone long for a companion like yours.

Line 4 is fake maturity at its finest. Why not look like the perfect couple there is to exist? This was sort of a pit stop in your 'relationship'. This is where Kuroo narrows down the pace of you two by throwing some lines like "We're too young to decide for something that big." And "We never know what happens in the future."

Line 5 is moving in with each other. God, you even looked for proper apartments just so you don't mess up a question. You were graduating after all so it was inescapable to talk about your upcoming plans together.

Line 6 shouldn't be used. That's talks of marriage and god— adulting. You two inserted this line as a mere joke knowing once you've gone through college, all these lines would simply disappear because they could never ask about you two anymore. If parents loved something about couples, it's the talk of marriage. Luckily, you and Kuroo hate the topic and simply agreed that this should be avoided at all costs.

"Never." You say as he hands you the pillow you threw before setting it back on the bed. You share a look to each other while you head out of your room to meet with his family.

Hours later, you got distracted in the sensation of his hands intertwined with yours.

Kuroo has subconsciously done it again. Underneath the table, swiping his thumb on the palm of your hand while his expression doesn't even show the slightest bit of interest in what he's doing below. Occasionally, Kuroo would send you a text on how boring the conversation was going so you'd bring up a topic for the both of you.

"You ok?" He asks while you smile at him before leaning your head on his shoulder, suddenly exhausted with wondering about him.

"I'm fine, babe." You say while he forgets the noise in the background. The nickname slipping of your lips so easily, even when you didn't need to call him that.

"Wanna go back to our room?" That was what you wanted anyway but was it rude to walk out of gatherings like this?

"Is that fine with you?" You asked looking up to meet his eyes.

"As long as your okay." He says, making your heart give out a pocket of panic.

You stood up with him following behind you. He was genuinely concerned with you so he catches up to you, slinging his arm around your shoulder bringing you close to him.

"Thanks, Tetsu." You bid him as he opens the door for you. You lied down on the bed as Kuroo sits beside you.

"You sure you're okay? I can tell them that you can't attend the party if you're sick."

"I just got really bored and distracted back there. I'm sorry if I made you worry." Kuroo flicks your forehead with his finger making you say "ow."

"Stop saying sorry, dumbass. You're my priority either way."

Stop. No. Never, remember? You think to yourself.

"Is it because I'm your 'girl?' "

"You've always been my girl, what are you talking about?" He says raising an eyebrow at you while you hit him with a pillow, confused to why your cheeks became warm at his statement.

"Oi, what was that for!" He says before throwing a pillow at you as an act of revenge. Still flushed from earlier, you threw another pillow at him. You couldn't even respond to him without telling your heart to calm down.

"You know what? Let's just watch a movie to pass some time." You suggested taking your laptop while Kuroo stares at you, bewildered at how swift your mood changes.

"Women confuse me. Especially you, god- you remind me of Bokuto. Now scooch over, lady."

I really am lucky.

Kuroo thinks to himself while he watches you twirl around the mirror for the 5th time just to temporarily assure your insecurities.

Your outfit fits you like a glove. Hugging every curve of your body, the fabric decorating you with its design. Shades of dark colors on your eyes and a tempting lip color that drives Kuroo insane with this new found thought.

"Before you can ask me, you look amazing Y/N- I don't think that's enough to describe how you look tonight." He says, almost out of breath. You quickly get flustered, turning to notice his outfit. Eyes daring up and down, taking in every bit of the stunning middle blocker.

"Hopefully I can remind you that my eyes are up here." He takes a step towards you, inches away from your nose as he studies your appearance. You just stand out, like a star blinding him. Dangerous as it is, he stares the longest at your lips.

"Y/N? Honey, our ride is here! Tell Kuroo that the guys are looking for him as well!" Your aunt shouts making Kuroo step back, not wanting a problem to surface upon the deal.

"We can meet here at 10pm if you ever feel bored okay?" You nod at him as he places a kiss on your forehead.

"Noted." You said smiling at him, you honestly forgot to thank him for the compliment but the way your eyes danced around him gave him an answer already.

"I'll see you in a bit."

Kuroo feels the need to step out of this party. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the stories of your uncles but this wasn't a circle he could fit into. Sure, the karaoke was humourous to watch but there was a need for him to be alone with you instead.

So, he dials your phone.

"Kuroo? What is it?" You asked him, escaping the noise of your aunties laughing as you went to the balcony.

"Just checking in on you, you good?"

"Is this a signal that you wanna leave babe?" You said chuckling, Kuroo smiles while he stands up to meet with your relatives to bid them goodbye.

"Sadly, yes and you?"

"I'll be there."

Few minutes passed as Kuroo got to your location. He couldn't allow you to commute when you looked that stunning, he was there to keep you safe at all times so you spent your time with silence in a cab back to the hotel. Kuroo didn't wanna talk about the party because he felt too drained to do it.

He takes his jacket and places it on your shoulders while you pull them closer to your body.

You two were seated on the bed while Kuroo removes your heels and setting them on the floor next to your other pairs of shoes. After removing them, you travel to the kitchen and sit on the sink as you drank water. Kuroo follows you with him beside you, leaning on it.

Why is it so quiet? You wondered.

Usually, Kuroo would make remarks or just bring up a conversation with you but you two just sat there with thoughts lingering around each other. While you set down the glass, Kuroo sets himself between your legs making your eyes widen while he sets his hands on either side your hip.

"What's on your mind? You do know that your silence is too loud for me." He says stroking your sides, making you trapped in a heated moment.

"Tetsu-"

"You've been off all morning. What's going on, Y/N?" He asks with sincerity. Ever since breakfast, all he's noticed is how your eyes never dared to stare back at his. How fidgety you were with his hand in yours, the way you'd gaze off into a state of thinking for a few seconds and your hands would feel cold compared to his.

"I- I don't know." You said honestly. There was a block in your mind and your heart. You couldn't notice how you were acting because there's a certain discussion that you unintentionally avoid. Was it the panic Kuroo set your heart in? Is it the way his skin on yours makes you wanna melt?

Was it the butterfly fluttering in you when he said you were his?

"Maybe you're just falling in love with me." Kuroo whispers leaning his face close to yours. God, he was joking. He should be but with his body moving without his system functioning before his orders, he was doomed already.

Unexpectedly, you leaned closer.

You could feel how Kuroo held his hand firmer to your hip while he continues to take away the centimeters in the space you had left. Tilting his head, his lips were impeccably close to yours, threatening you with how you wished they'd be on you already.

But what if I am?

"Isn't that part of the game?" You whispered back, as he steps away. The moment washes over him making his knees almost give out at what he just wanted to do. You sighed as he walks away, leaving you stranded in a pool of questionable feelings.

Your hearts were screaming. What foolishness did you insert yourself in? Kuroo felt like he shouldn't have walked away and chose the fatal move by kissing you the way he always wanted to do but he had to avoid the tightening of his chest.

No one can win in a battle of temptations, especially when your lips were calling his name.

You removed yourself from the sink while you entered your shared bed seeing Kuroo tucked in the sheets, obviously hiding.

You hopped on the either side of the bed with a sigh as you tried to silence out the voices in your head.

I don't want to be in this with you anymore.

It wasn't a surprise to see the left side of the bed empty. The moment you woke up, the both of you weren't ready to converse what happened last night, especially the middle blocker. It was his move and you couldn't even manage to move on your own after it. Now what surrounds the room is unresolved tension.

You finally got out of bed, stepping into the bathroom to brush your teeth, locking the door to leave you at peace with your mind. You decided to take a shower knowing the time of the wedding.

Kuroo comes back from grabbing your breakfast. He sees the impact of what happened last night. It was his fault for leaving without explanation now he has to endure the coldness of it all.

He hears the water running so he leans his forehead on the door, his heart wanting nothing more then for everything to be the way it was before.

"If only you knew." He whispers before gathering his tux for the event, sighing to himself.

When you walk out with a towel on, hair dripping droplets, he turns away immediately while you felt the frustration grew in how he was acting.

During your shower, you chose to base your actions with your brain instead of your heart. It can never lead you to proper decisions. Kuroo was making the situation worse—you had expected him to act like nothing happened the next day, maybe then things would have been easier.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" You asked him while he gives you a nod.

Speak to me please.

"I'll go get ready then." There was no point in hoping for a response from him and you grew tired because of it.

His mouth couldn't agree with his mind. He was caught up on if he wanted to apologize or act like nothing happened. He couldn't read your emotions properly even if he feels like he should 'cause if not then this going to grow into something you could both hate.

He's in between of thinking if you want things to be 'normal' or if you want some sort of explanation from him. He also feels like you'd escape the conversation seeing that you leaned in as well, which surprised him. He just can't face it, he can't bring up the words to express how right it felt even if it was wrong.

Still, both ways has his heart still long for you. The regret hasn't died in his body and he wishes it would.

"What time do you think they'll take us to the venue?" Your voice makes him awake somehow, he turns to see applying your makeup in the dress that the bride suggested you'd wear. Just like yesterday, he was struck again. The way the white stood out with the faint details of the dress had you glow like a star he wishes on.

"I don't know." He responds, he fell short on his words and there was still a clear state of hesitation that follows him.

You were fueled by him, yet this fire couldn't be held back.

Kuroo sees the way you drop the brush, leaving a sound echo through the silence he made, the way your heels clicked when you walked right up to him, a weak feeling setting in him knowing your stare was digging holes in his head as he looks at you.

"I think you're forgetting that you moved first."

You say, making him sweat under the confrontation but you let your words show how he managed to place your heart in your hands.

"So why act like we didn't want the same thing?"

You had him stunned. There weren't proper thoughts that ran in his mind, some parts of him still bringing him back to what happened last night and the other wanted to look into the future which was looking unsteady.

"We wouldn't want to ruin our deal, right?" His tone was laced with a threat. He couldn't even set his decisions right. Just blurting out words he thought was enough for the both of you.

"Kuroo, that wasn't an act." You argued making him crumble with another mistake in his response. You both felt it and there wasn't a way to act all blind to it. You were aware and admitted it to him face to face. That was the confirmation he needed to get his heart removed from its knots.

"Y/N-"

You step closer to him, a firm finger on his chest while your eyes stayed on

"If the show is more important to you, then let's call it like nothing happened."

While you give a push to his chest, you turned your back to him hoping it'd make him walk to you and tell you his genuine feelings.

But your heels lead you away from him and his feet remained glued to the floor.

They say weddings brought people together to celebrate love.

That is- the love that circled between you two is an experiment you'll never understand.

As you went to the wedding, everyone looked at this perfect couple who radiated silent rage with each other.

Kuroo feels the sting in his heart when you were forced to hold his hand and stick around him. Your voice portrayed it so easily- like this role of being his girlfriend was a reflex, something that you know by the back of the hand.

Meanwhile, he's forgotten his lines.

His expressions, the nicknames guardedly falling off his lips, the shaking hands that roamed around your waist, he was falling apart.

Suddenly, forgetting his role and searching for the script of reality.

Everyone can see it. The way you smiled and tried to avoid questions of why you both seems so close but feel so distant with each other. You'd laugh it off or change the topic to the lovely couple instead, even the bride could sense it.

While the ceremony begins, Kuroo couldn't stop looking at your direction. How could he not when his eyes loved the sight of you? Disregarding the tone of your voice earlier that scared the wits out of him, the way you strutted in that dress of yours still had his heart held captive.

Meanwhile, you kept your eyes busy by trying to focus on the couple. If you didn't control yourself, you would drown in him. Did that tux really have to be perfect in him? The way his hair was actually swept back with gel, exposing a new level of attraction for you.

For a second, Kuroo looks away knowing you'd never look his way the same way again.

And Cupid was sure to hit you right this time.

"Honey, you've shown me love in ways I never knew you could do. At first, I was scared. You know me- love is a deadly road but you drove me to the safest place. Love is scary but with you— I'm willing to fear it as long as I'm yours." The bride vows making some of your relatives form tears in their eyes at the beautiful choice of words.

You bit your lip, finding it ironic how it fits you. You were sure as hell scared. Knowing Kuroo and having to experience a bond with him and it could all end because of a mere kiss. You weren't ready to lose, both in love and in this level of fate.

"I've never said it before but I was scared too. It doesn't show- I know. Losing you is something that haunts me for the rest of my life, it's cliche but what's love without you? Even if I'm having some trouble in saying it, I love you and I don't think I can ever lie about that." The groom says while the bride wipes away her tears, fanning her eyes.

Didn't that just took the words right out of Kuroo?

He gulps, looking at you as you also turned to look at him. An antsy feeling settling in your bodies, the number of butterflies swarming around you was increasing with every word that replays in your minds.

Minutes pass as the newly married couple kiss, making you both awaken at the sound of cheers from your relatives. You stood up from your seat, joining the crowd as they watch the two walk down the path smiling at each other.

Kuroo was on the other side, joined by your male relatives while you were on the side with your aunties. Both of you were tremendously nervous. You decided to avert your eyes on the bride as she readies herself to thow the boquet of bright flowers.

You sighed as you decided to walk away but destiny tugs on your motives.

Time slows down as the boquet thrown in the air was circling around while they all watched on whose lucky hands it lands on. They all tried to reach it, believing in the myth that surrounded it.

Dropping an item from your bag, you bent down to pick it up but what made your eyes widen was the sight of the fallen flowers in front of you and everyone that surrounded you, disappeared in your mind.

Picking it up slowly, the boquet resting in your hand as you admired each flower but your heart was struck like an arrow hittings its target point.

Kuroo held his breath, clenching his hands as he stood there.

Giving one last glance to the boquet, your eyes finally met Kuroos astounded ones and the world goes into a blur while he remained to stay focused in your line of sight.

Just like that, Cupid lands a bullseye to both hearts.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#kuroo angst #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x y/n #hq kuroo #nekoma

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theglowyscorpio · 3 years

Text

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

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iatethepomegranate · 3 years

Text

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences (for now)

Relationship: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Summary: After Aeor, Caleb buys a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha. For the first time in more than seventeen years, he has some semblance of stability. Caleb is not sure he's ready to handle it, but he's trying, and his friends are eager to see him live a good life, by force if necessary.

And then Soltryce Academy approaches him with a job offer, which could give Caleb the chance to protect the next generation of wizards the way he had needed at their age. Caleb's goal of preventing what happened to him from happening to anyone else, however, takes a far more personal turn than even he could have anticipated.

(In other words, here is a fic about Caleb settling down and learning how to be a person again. Also Professor Widogast will be a thing. Fic title is a lyric from I Have Made Mistakes by the Oh Hellos. Chapter title is a lyric from Mind by Sleeping At Last. More detailed tagging and notes are available on AO3.)

_____

Chapter 1: It's the first brush stroke of a self-portrait

Caleb had mixed feelings returning to Rexxentrum after spending so long in Aeor… and everywhere else he had been, including a fucking flesh city in the Astral Sea. Sure, he had popped back to Rexxentrum regularly to update the Cobalt Soul on his discoveries, and to testify at Trent’s trial, during the conclusion of which he had the satisfaction of turning down Da’leth’s offer to assume Trent’s position as the Archmage of Civil Influence. But now he was back on a more permanent basis.

He didn’t know what to do with that information. With this place, that was both so familiar and so foreign. Full of some of his best memories, and some of his worst.

Caleb had spent so long avoiding this place, or at least the challenging parts of it, and now Beauregard was dragging him and Yasha down the street, infodumping about a house she wanted the three of them to buy together.

“Caleb, don’t give me that look,” she said. “You’re gonna love this place. I know you like your space, dude, and this is the best of both worlds. It’s technically two houses, but there’s, like, a door between them so we can visit each other. Because you’re a fucking genius but you also forget to feed yourself.”

Yasha smiled at Caleb over Beau’s head. “She’s not wrong, Caleb.” Her soft tone made Caleb a little emotional, but he categorically refused to start crying in the street. “I like my space, too. This is a good balance. And there’s room for a garden.”

“Yasha’s not an Empire citizen,” said Beau. “It looks better if there’s two of us Empire kids on the deed so no one thinks any weird shit about her.”

Caleb sighed at her. “I will look at the house, Beauregard.”

Beau yanked them around the street corner. “It’s a great location. You can walk anywhere. I can get to the Archive, and you can get to the Academy.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Maybe. Astrid says hi.”

The implication that Astrid and Beauregard had been speaking to each other recently was of concern. Caleb was too tired to unpack it. He would find out what that was about eventually. It was not worth Beauregard’s sibling-level mockery if he tried to extract the information early.

“Oh, and Veth sent you this,” said Yasha, passing a wrapped package over Beau’s head.

“Yeah, I might’ve told her we’re buying a house together,” said Beau. “She made Yussa send that to the Soul so I could grab it for you.”

Caleb didn’t open the package, but he did shake and squeeze it a little. It felt like coins. A lot of coins. Oh, Veth. Still taking care of him from miles upon miles away. They’d both come so far from Veth sneaking coins into his pockets because he had felt strange about taking her money even when he desperately needed it.

“Danke,” he said softly. That was all he could say, before he risked bursting into tears again. That was happening to him a lot lately. It… wasn’t the worst thing. More of an inconvenience. He chose not to unpack it.

Beauregard was looking at him strangely. He elbowed her. It probably hurt his elbow more than it hurt her, but she was successfully distracted from his bullshit. She punched his arm. Even holding back like she did, his arm did go numb for a few seconds.

Yasha sighed. “Children, we’re almost there.”

Caleb had been down this street before. Rarely, as it was entirely residential. But sometimes he, Astrid and Eadwulf would explore the city to find excuses to get away from the Academy, especially after they had commenced their training with Trent. But, with Caleb’s memory, he could call upon the map he had drawn in his mind. This was a middle-income area on the southern edge of The Tangles, home to mostly professionals--well-off storeowners, any researchers who did not live in the Shimmer Ward or have access to quarters with the Cobalt Soul, some teachers, architects. Largely people looking to settle down with the money to stay out of the Mudtop Ward.

It was close to the Shimmer Ward, a little southwest from the gate, but not so close that Caleb felt an itch on the back of his neck. The Tangles were the oldest part of the city, with narrow looping streets with little logic to them. This area was slightly newer than most of The Tangles, but still old. Regardless, The Tangles were fairly central to the city and an easy starting point for any travel. If you didn’t get lost on the way out.

This far south in the area, the houses were a little more spaced out. A little more green space, more gardens. Duplex-style houses were common, mostly built of old stone or lumpy brick on the first floor and clay bolstered by wooden frames above that. Children were out in force, running and screaming through the narrow streets while their parents watched from the porch of their homes. Well, for those who had porches.

“There she is,” said Beauregard. They had stopped in front of another duplex-style building, newer than some of the others but still respectable in age. The first floor was made from dark reddish brick and the upper two floors panelled with dark wood to bolster the white clay walls. The first two floors were full in width, and the third consisted of two dormers peeking through the darkly thatched roof.

There were two entrance doors on the ground floor, each spaced a third of the house’s width from the outer corners. The rectangular windows were framed in white-painted wood, dividing the glass on each window into six little squares.

Before the three of them was a low wooden fence, also painted white. The paint was chipping a little, revealing the deep brown heartwood that Caleb suspected was oak. There were a number of oak trees in the Pearlbow Wilderness. Caleb had slept under them several times in worse days. Oak was rather expensive, if he remembered correctly. He usually remembered correctly.

“She’s pretty hot, right, Caleb?” Beau said, snapping out of his hyperfocus on the history of timber in the Zemni Fields.

“Oh… ja.”

“Cool, so the owner will be here in a few minutes to let us in so we can have a look. She wants to sell the place as a package deal.”

Caleb had, in some ways, trained himself out of being too attached to places or most material things (with a few exceptions such as his spell components, spellbook, and the letters he had written to his parents). Unless there was something horrifically wrong inside, he didn’t care where Beauregard and Yasha wanted to live. It was practical that they live together, after all. Caleb had healed immensely this past year, but he was self-aware enough to understand he probably shouldn’t live alone. Of the Nein, Beauregard knew how to call him on his bullshit and Yasha understood him pretty well and knew he needed space sometimes, so it was a reasonable arrangement.

“I am really not picky, Beauregard.”

“Yeah, because you still don’t care enough about yourself to give a fuck about this. We know.” Beauregard looped her arm around his neck, dragging him down to her level so she could rub her knuckles across his scalp, ruining the two narrow braids Essek had worked from Caleb’s hairline to his messy ponytail that morning before they had parted ways beside the secret entrance to Aeor. Caleb talked himself out of getting upset with Beauregard over it. She couldn’t have known, and she was being affectionate like he really was her brother.

Once he was free, Yasha fixed the braids, and Caleb had to stop himself from crying again because she had noticed it bothered him and just… fixed it without making it a thing. Beau straightened her expositor’s garb, clearing her throat.

“Sorry, dude.”

Caleb conjured a mage hand to tug on her ponytail. Beau swatted at it, but her hand went right through it. She gave him the finger. Yasha finished fixing the braids. Everything was normal again.

The owner, a half-elf woman with long blonde hair coiled into a bun that looked like a cinnamon scroll, arrived and immediately shook Caleb’s hand.

“Mr Widogast, a pleasure. These ladies have told me a lot about you. My name is Alphira Winterheart. I teach evocation at the Soltryce Academy.”

Caleb still felt a spike of anxiety when he heard the name of that place. At this point it was ingrained, even if he held out a small amount of hope he would get to teach there one day. It would be easier to fight corruption if he had some say over what the Academy put into those children’s heads.

“A pleasure,” Caleb replied, a little flatter than he had intended. He mentally shook himself, remembering to actually grip her hand for a proper handshake. “Evocation? I used to specialise in that area.”

“Ja, Ms Lionett told me you are now a Transmutation specialist but still frequently partake in the Evocation school in your travels. I’m glad to hear you intend to put down roots here in Rexxentrum. I would love to exchange theories over coffee.”

Beauregard smirked. Caleb remembered a conversation with Essek where they had agreed to return to Aeor and exchange theories. They had meant that literally. But it had indeed sounded like a euphemism to someone like Beauregard. Well, she hadn’t been wrong in the end, but certainly the intent at the time had been more about a meeting of minds than a meeting of…

Caleb concentrated on the conversation in front of him instead.

“Ja, I would enjoy that,” he replied. “What level of Evocation do you teach?”

“Oh, I teach the beginners.”

“And you live here in the Tangles?”

“I did,” said Alphira. “Archmage Beck has offered me lodging on her estate, so I am selling this house. It was always a little large for one person, and it seems you three could make better use of it than I did.” She leaned closer to Caleb, as if to tell him a secret. “The place on the left is where I prefer to experiment and study. I would recommend you look at that one in particular. The dormer is slightly larger. You could even put a teleportation circle up there if you were so inclined, given your need to travel.”

“Danke.” Caleb still felt a little weird about Rexxentrum mages not wanting to kill him, but he didn’t sense any untoward motives from this woman. She seemed genuinely friendly. “How… is the new Archmage settling in?”

“I have no complaints. She seems competent, if a little terrifying. I am uncertain if that is her past as a Volstrucker, or a necessity of the job. She has been nothing but kind to me, and I would certainly prefer to be her friend than her enemy.”

“Ja, we are familiar with her,” said Caleb.

“Caleb most of all,” said Yasha.

Beauregard had to turn away before she burst out laughing.

“We should look at the house,” Caleb said before the conversation could go anywhere strange. Gods, he missed Aeor already.

Alphira unlocked both front doors. They checked the one on the right first.

“This one has a larger living area,” said Alphira, leading them through the entrance. “I am offering the furniture as part of the sale. I have already taken everything I need.”

Beauregard threw herself onto the large couch in the centre of the room. “Yasha and I call dibs on this side of the house. Since you’re gonna spend so much time here with us anyway. We’re taking the larger living area.”

“Beauregard, we have already established that I do not mind.”

The floor underfoot was a pleasant hardwood, probably more oak, and a large rug occupied much of the space. They would have to purchase candles for the evening, but it was well-lit during the day. Caleb followed the women through each of the rooms on the ground floor on this side, largely going through the motions. The kitchen was equally large, and had a good oven for Yasha to practice baking. They would need to purchase a larger dining table.

There was one large bedroom upstairs and two smaller ones, alongside private areas for bathing and other such activities. This was where they found the door between the two houses. The top floor dormer was full of assorted furniture and household items Alphira didn’t need, but they would likely use. Beauregard and Yasha discussed the possibility of turning this into another bedroom for when they had friends over. Or perhaps converting one of the lower bedrooms into a workout space and using this as a replacement. Caleb did not need to contribute much to the conversation, aside from promising he would help move furniture with telekinesis.

Truth be told, Caleb was having a hard time concentrating on the whole thing. He hadn’t really had a home in a long time, and he could not wrangle his mind into understanding the change. The Xhorhaus had been easier to stomach, as nobody had expected to live there forever. But this? Putting down roots? Real , long-term roots?

Maybe Caleb had been homeless for too long. It was beyond his comprehension at this point. And maybe it frightened him a little. He could not afford to inspect those feelings, not right now.

He pulled himself together in time to inspect the other side of the building. His side. His house. Scheisse .

The living area was a little smaller, but could still easily welcome the Nein (just in rather cosy quarters). The kitchen, also smaller but still respectable--a little larger than his childhood home in Blumenthal. There was less furniture on this side; Alphira had evidently used this side more and therefore had more furniture to take. There were two bedrooms on the second floor, one slightly larger than the other. Caleb found himself thinking that he would probably take the larger one just so there was enough room when Essek was over, or maybe he would take the smaller one so Veth could bring her family with her. Fuck. He didn’t know what to do.

And then they visited the dormer. It was indeed larger than the other one. There was a table in front of the window, with a few dark ink stains, and plenty of floorspace to spread out notes or create a teleportation circle. A few chairs were stacked in the corner, seemingly in good condition, and one wall was lined with empty shelves.

Caleb had always been partial to a tower, and this was pretty close. It would make a great study.

He was genuinely excited over a house. In Rexxentrum. A short journey from where his childhood home once stood. He was going to hyperventilate if he thought about this too hard.

“There are already plenty of shelves in my new house,” Alphira said. “These are all yours.”

Caleb nodded slowly, pulling his mind back into his skull. “Wundervoll, danke.” He took a calming breath. “This is a nice place, Professor.”

Alphira smiled. “Yes, I did not make nearly enough use out of it. But I hear you three have a lot of friends from out of town.”

“Ja, we do not see them enough.”

“Perhaps you will see them more once you have a place to welcome them.” Alphira led them back downstairs, and into the other side of the house where they could sit around the small dining table. Alphira already had the paperwork they needed to sign; Caleb got the impression Beau and Yasha had already decided to buy the house before they spoke to him about it. He was glad the decision was out of his hands.

He signed the paperwork, using both his legal name and the name he now wore (Alphira had apparently been briefed on this, and had consulted a contract lawyer on how to make it work on a binding document). Caleb had needed to sign various statements as part of Trent’s trial, so signing in Bren’s name was not as strange as he feared it would be. He was relieved. Beau and Yasha had insisted on finding a way that his new name would also be included, given he had not gone through any legal name-change process. The money Veth gave him more than covered his part of the cost. He needed to hug her. He needed to hug all of them.

Alphira gave them three copies of the contract and handed over the deed to the property. “I will head to the housing authority and file the paperwork immediately.” She slid the keys over the table to them. “Congratulations on your new home.”

She left. Caleb traced the shapes of the letters on his copy of the contract, over and over, letting reality sink in. He had a house. A house in Rexxentrum. A house in Rexxentrum with two of his best friends. It wasn’t at all what he imagined he would have when he was seventeen, when he thought he and Astrid and Wulf would one day have done their duty for the empire and settled down together.

But this was good. This was right .

He cried. Yasha was probably crying, too, but he couldn't see. The three of them hugged across the table, the edges jabbing their ribs.

#critical role #caleb widogast #shadowgast #not a lot in this chapter but there will be #fanfiction #ao3 #my fics #the pomegranate's professor widogast fic

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bravo-four-seal-team · 3 years

Text

Demons and Help?||Part 1/2

Co-written/Proof read: @disasterfandoms

Summary: Ashley is finally in Virginia, battling her own Demons, what could go wrong with being out at 5am? She did not expect to run in to the people or person she’s been trying to avoid A/N: Trigger warnings added, torture mention, blood mention, argument, captivity mention. (yes I know its early in the morning)

Tag: @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @velvetcardiganbucky @supervalcsi @abby-splace @itsonautopilot @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @mrsmarvelous1995 @jayhalsteadfan-2417

“Tell me why you are in my country,” the figure asks, slowly walking around the area she was hanging from.

“For the view,” Ashley smirked, spitting blood to the floor, head snapping to the side as a hand connected hard with her cheek.

“Get the wires,” the figure smirked as another two men moved in. She knew it was a battery; she’d been through this for the past two days. “I give you one more chance to tell me,” the figure said.

Ashley spat in his face. “Bite me,” she snapped.

The next few minutes were agony. She screamed as the wires came into contact with her skin, leaving behind marks of where they were being placed. Wheezing when it finally ended, “Get her down” the voice snapped, her arms unhooked from above her, the pain shooting through her shoulder, she was dragged over to a tub head shoved under, again and again, each time she struggled, causing her to swallow more water. She would be held as she was repeatedly struck in the stomach, then her head shoved back under the water.

“She want to play savior, then we let her,” the figure laughed, selecting the whip on the table, the light reflecting off the metal shards in the leather. Ashley tried to break free as the whip was brought closer to her. Hands gripped her, holding her in place on her knees as the weapon came down on her back. She bit down on her lip, trying not to scream. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, her blood beginning to stain her back as the metal did its job in taking chunks out of her back. Eventually, she was thrown back into the small dark room, her hands bound.

Ashley woke with a jump, soaked in sweat, shaking, and breathing hard. The ticking of the clock seemed so loud. At 5 am, she was trying to calm herself down. The shaking began to subside, breathing calmed. She was back in Virginia, hiding out in her apartment, staring at the ceiling, her neighbors arguing again, something smashing against the wall. She kept replaying everything, she got Trent’s email, but she never opened it, too scared to see the ‘Don’t contact me again’ in the main body.

The notification there on her phone and laptop haunted her, beeping every so often to say she had something unread in her inbox. Sighing, she swung her legs off the couch, getting up, looking about the table, beer cans lying around. That made more sense. It has been two months since the email. Nightmares plagued her, but she was clear for deploying again; the next place would be the Philippines, on base, helping training, nothing too serious.

It took time for her to get ready. She was still stiff, pulling her shirt off the mirror, catching a reflection of the scars littering her back, still healing, slowly, eventually, she got washed, wrapped fresh bandages around herself then dressed in her civvies, grabbing her baseball cap, glaring at herself in the mirror. Her lip was stitched, that picture stuck in the corner of her brother and her, before she went off for her first deployment, quickly turning and grabbing her keys then leaving, door slamming behind her.

Food shopping for the next few days...no coffee, coffee first. She had returned yesterday, finally clear to fly home correctly, so didn’t have any food in the apartment, part of deploying, get rid of food that would spoil, she never saw the point of even buying any personal items, the place came with a sofa and bed anyway, along with a TV, all she needed to do pay the bills and rent and buy food.

“You know what, Trent, Fuck you! All you see is what she wants you to!”

“Ashley, you are out of line.”

“I thought you learned from the first one! Look what happened! Every single time I try to get to know them! They pull this shit!”

“Ashley C Sawyer! Enough!”

“No! You always believe what they feed you! Just like the first one, this one is spinning lies!”

“Are you shitting me? Watch where you are going, asshole!” Ashley snapped, eyes narrowed at the man who walked into her.

“What did you say bitch” he snarled.

“You hard of hearing or what?” Ashley countered, squaring up to the taller man, not in the mood to deal with anyone.

The man huffed and walked away, grumbling about psychopaths.

“Don’t even bother contacting me until you learn to grow up!”

“Oh, come on! You're gonna support her?! After what she just said?”

“Get the hell out of my life.”

“I’d rather die than be in your life, Trent. Good to know my brother doesn't even have my back!”

“Get the hell out!”

Pushing the door open to a small coffee shop, walking over to the counter, the Barista smiling and greeting her. “What can I get you?” the woman asked.

Ashley sighed “large, strong coffee with cream,” she said, getting her wallet out of her coat pocket, handing the money over. “Keep the change for whoever does not have enough to get something,” she stated; it was usual for her to say this as she took the to-go cup and left.

Phone beeping again, that unread email haunting her still and walking along the street thinking about what she needed to get. It was quiet. She was glad; no one was around this early in the morning. She could hear footsteps behind her. She went on full alert, moving to the side to let the person go.

As they ran by, she heard “Thanks!” being called back to her.

“Yeah, no problem,” she muttered, never looking up. Moving to continue to where she was going to go, she didn’t know where but walking around aimlessly customarily worked.

“Sawyer, you good?”

“I’m fine, Cole.”

“He responded, are you going to open it?”

“Knowing him, he’d respond to tell me how much Bullshit I spouted and to keep away from him.”

“You don't know that. People change.”

“Cole, keep out of this”

“You can’t avoid it forever. Better to open it at some point.”

“Better to ignore it than being crushed, Gunny.”

She walked down the street, hearing a couple up ahead, someone complaining about night shifts, the man chuckling, she couldn’t make out what he said, but again she stepped to the side, allowing them to go past.

What she did not expect to hear was the woman to speak up and say, “Ash?” her stomach dropped, head hung low, she couldn’t do this, trying to focus on not shaking, trying to hide her face. It was too early for this.

“Ashley,” that was Trent, now she needed to get out of there.

Why of all the days did it need to be the one morning she was dealing with her things?

“You look like hell,” Amelia said. “Are you okay?” she asked, and Ashley snorted. Was she okay? Three months in hell, now seeing the people she was trying to avoid for the majority of her life? No, she wasn’t okay. She was in a literal nightmare.

“Fine, just tryna get to the base,” Ashley lied with ease, glancing at the two. Trent still was not saying anything; he kept his expression neutral. He was trying to think what to say. He hadn’t received a response. He could see the way she held herself; he knows pain; he knows that haunted look she has all too well.

“Sorry, I ugh, gotta meet Cole for target practice,” Ashley mumbled, moving around them quickly. She needed to make sure she got away from them. Her chest was tight, her head hurt. She stumbled around a corner, making her way to a bench and sitting down, setting the coffee on the ground and leaning forward, head going between her knees, trying to calm herself down.

Trent had walked Amelia back to her apartment, with her telling him to talk to her and something was off. He agreed with her, not wanting to argue, memories of their previous fight still in his mind. He did not want to be on Amelia's wrong side again.

He walked back towards where they had seen Ash and then proceeded towards the way she had taken off. Glancing at the time, 6:30 am, which meant it would still be quiet. Walking the quiet streets, it wasn’t long before he located her. It was clear she had just got herself down from a panic attack, so he didn’t want to spook her.

“Ashley,” he called out. If she had reacted any quicker, she would have got whiplash.

“You good?” He asked, walking over. Ashley could be what many described as a deer caught in headlights. “Mind if I sit?”

Ashley shrugged, trying not to react. This is the one thing she wanted to avoid, looking ahead as Trent sat beside her. “Didn’t read it, did you?” he asked quietly, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward slightly.

“Didn’t have to, knew what it would say,” she whispered back.

“What would that be?”

“To keep away from you, people you know, and your life.”

He supposed he deserved that response; the argument was ugly. When things came to light about what happened, a year later, when wife 2 wanted a divorce, it was too late to repair anything.

“Ash, it never said that,” he says, looking out across the park. “You were one of them... one of the Marines captive?” he says, not getting a response. “Whole base heard about it; no names are given out to anyone not in the Marines. I was deployed at the time. Our base was chaos. The Marines on base were talking, whispering about what happened,” he sighs, “I expected to hear on the news you were dead,” he said calmly.

“That makes your life easier?” Ashley says, voice going cold, fist-clenching on her lap.

“No.” he sighed. “Would make life a lot harder. I got back from a spin up, lost a brother, then a few days later, you emailed. All I could think was that it was a joke, realized it wasn't. Amelia and I argued about it.”

“Why are you here?” She snaps; looking at him, he could see the extent of damage to her face. Her black eye is still healing from having her nose broken and set correctly, along with stitches and minor cuts littering her face.

“To make sure my baby sister is okay. If you had read the email, you would have seen me offering to meet you at the airport, along with wanting to help with your recovery-”

“I don’t need your help; done fine without it.”

Trent stood up, Ashley mentally preparing herself to walk away again, only for him to kneel in front of her. “What happened in the past happened, okay? We both said things we regret. I'm here now to help, and I can guarantee that Ames will help out as well,” he said, watching her reaction. “Got time for coffee, and I can wrap those wounds properly.”

Of course, he’d notice when someone hadn’t correctly changed dressings or wrapped their wounds properly. He deals with Bravo and them not treating injuries properly daily, so it was easy to spot. He was grateful it was warmer than it had been the past few days, so being outside for this long, he didn’t mind.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Ashley muttered, pulling her sleeves down. “Look, I’m not...I ain’t expecting you to play big brother Trent, or give a damn,” she muttered, tugging her cap down to try and hide her face more. She was not in the mood to be poked, prodded, or questioned.

“I don't need to play it when it's my job.” he states with a frown, “Come on, get up,” he said, carefully getting her up. “You look like shit. Have you been sleeping?”

“This is just my face, Trent.”

“You look exhausted. You’ll come back to mine. I can check those wounds, then you can grab some sleep after you take painkillers,” He said, frowning.

“Hell no, you aren't!” Ashley stated, her eyes going wide. “Not happening at all! No way,” she said, not moving from her spot. Shaking her head, she did not want anyone near the wounds on her back. She would keep those as quiet as she could. The look she was getting from her brother was telling her she would need to give him an answer as to why.

“Look, I just want to go to the range, go home, sleep, and get ready for a deployment in a few weeks, that's it,” she says, binning the cold coffee.

“Do you want to talk about what happened, Ash?” The SEAL asked, worried that she would end up worse if she shut down more than she already was. He finally got her moving, leading her to his truck.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it, not with you,” she states. “I got a shrink,” she lied. It was easier than saying, ‘oh yeah, goes from being tortured to you laughing at what happens at me.’

Ashley fell into a light sleep 5 minutes into the drive.

The water was dripping on the ground; she’s lying on her side staring at the door. She's tired of fighting. She wants to sleep, but when she sleeps, bad things happen. The metal door opened, men entering with weapons, another one entering and hauling her up, dragging her out.

Arms being hauled up over her head, the restraints being hooked onto the metal hook hanging from the ceiling.

“Shall we do this again” the man smiled. 2 months, 25 days, this had been going on. She’d begun learning to keep track of how many times she would be left alone, along with how the temperature dropped in the evening and warmer during mornings.

“Who are you?”

She was tired, mumbling “Marine Staff Sergeant Sawyer” everything was blurry. The dim light seemed brighter than anything she had seen. Her senses were being overloaded with different things: light, sound, the smell of decaying flesh.

“Very good,” the man smirked, looking at the tools on the table. “Why are your people in my country?” he asks, smacking her when she didn’t answer. “I asked you a question!”

“Dunno,” she muttered “why are we anywhere” she slurred, fighting to keep awake. Her body needed the rest to recover; she caught a glimpse of one of the rookies being dragged in, a gun being held to his head.

“Shall we try that again?” the man asked, the rookie pleading for his life, but when she didn’t, the gun went off, and the young man fell forward, blood beginning to form a puddle, lifeless eyes staring at her.

She ended up back in that small room. The dripping, she focused on that, zoning out, the screams of her teammates fading into the background.

Ashley woke with a jump as Trent turned off the engine. Running a hand over her face, she cleared her throat. Trent chose not to comment on it; he’s seen friends, brothers who suffered from sleepless nights, hell he had them himself, so he knew what it was like.

He still wished she had spoken to him before signing up. He couldn’t figure out why she would even want to join the Navy after seeing the type of injuries that could be sustained.

They remained quiet, Trent helping his sister inside, telling her to sit on the couch. She did so, the haunted look back in place. He was concerned about that. He wasn’t sure exactly what went down, but the stories circling base were all the same: unit ambushed, multiple dead, three alive. He moved to his office, walking to the shelf where he kept his kit then returning out. “Easier to get this over with, kid,” he states, surprised that she removed her jacket without a fight. “So, you spoke to Amelia a few months back. What do..you think of her?”

“Don't matter what I think.”

“Sure it does. You’re normally asking a bunch of questions that I can’t get you to shut up about.”

“That was past me; new me don't give two shits, head down don't ask questions.”

He was not expecting that response. Quite frankly, he wasn’t expecting her to be so shut down. Starting on her upper arms, he frowned, noticing the burns.

“Electrical?” he asked; at her nod, he just knew it was going to be worse.

“They don't like the ones who fight back, Clarkes got off light: a broken arm, a few broken ribs, was running a fever. Cole had about the same as me, just a bit better. I kept fighting: not giving information, get told not to. In the end, I was just tired.”

Trent made a mental note to speak to Amelia to see if she could spend a few hours with her; get to know Ashley better, see if she would open up more about what happened. “Nightmares keep you awake? It’s normal, you know, you can ask your doctor for some sedatives to get some sleep.”

“Allergic,” Ashley muttered, “Learnt that one the hard way after being sprung from the confines of hell.” She made a hissing noise, “Ow! Take it easy,” she snapped, jerking her arm away

“You haven’t been cleaning these, have you?”

“Medics on base did before we were sent home here,” she grumbled, glaring at the swabs he was using, and whatever the stuff was that was burning the wound, the last person to use that stuff got a broken nose as a reward.

“Stop being a baby.”

“Or what? Going to tell me to leave and not come back until I grow up?” she grumbled.

Trent stopped and looked up. “That was a low blow kid,” he said but left it; she was in pain. He was 100% sure he would call Amelia after she got a few hours of sleep to come over and help out with this situation.

The dripping of the kitchen tap is all Ashley could focus on.

‘He doesn’t hate you, you do know that, right? He told me stories about how you two were when he was still at home. You should reach out to him.’

That's all Ashley could think about from her conversation with Amelia. She frowned, the last person to probably ever see her alive; she should have listened, should have reached out to her brother; this could be her last moment alive, and she’d die without getting the chance to say sorry. To let him know she didn’t mean what she said.

As if on cue, the door opened: dragged out, chained, hung, beaten. This time they left her hanging there.

“He told me he worries he’s going to see your name in the obituaries one day, that he won’t be called when you die. You think if he hates your guts, he would be worried for you?” there was Amelia's voice in her head again, her mind creating an image of the woman leaning against the wall watching her as she spoke. It was like she wasn’t allowed to die in peace; what was so wrong with that?

Her arms and shoulders were killing her. They trick you into believing you have people who care, keep you fed and hydrated. They did it to Clarkes and Craig, who submitted to their tricks, thinking the men who offered the food were kinder people, but they weren't; they had given their names to them. Their beatings had stopped, but Ashley didn’t fall for their tricks. She’d heard enough about it, questioned SEALs who were on the base during her first few deployments about what not to do. She wasn’t going to let them break her, sure she gave up her rank and second name, but that's all they would get.

One man came back in. This person was different, new; she had never seen him before, he never spoke. His specialty was using a cattle prod in open wounds, making her scream out in agony.

“Ashley, I need you to focus on me.”

Looking around, she couldn’t find the voice.

“Ashley, you’re ok. Just focus on my voice. It’s safe.”

Trent.

Blinking, looking confused, “You with me?” she heard Trent ask. He was sitting on her right side now, dealing with the dressings there. She could see the concern in his eyes. She kept silent for a while, not wanting to talk about anything, just happy to be in her brother's presence without a fight hanging over them. She wasn’t sure how long it would last.

“I called Amelia. She’ll be by in a few hours. Want to tell me where your mind went?” he asked, finishing her right arm. “Need to look at your torso to see what needs to be done,” he calmly explained.

“I was back there,” she whispered, “I don’t like being there, but I always end up there, or the argument,” She states, not moving at all. “I don't want you seeing Trent. Base Docs can deal with it,” she mumbled, looking away from him.

“I have dealt with all types of injuries, Kid.” He sighs, watching her. This was the reason he never wanted her signing up. “I'm not going to judge,” was all he said, but Ashley shook her head. This was one thing she was determined to hide. Trent decided to leave it for now. “You still take your coffee with a shit load of sugar?” he asked.��

“Strong with Cream, no sugar,” Ashley muttered. “I'm just gonna call a cab head to base.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re going to sit there or lay down and get some rest. When Amelia arrives, you let her check those wounds you won’t show me,” he stated. Removing the medical gloves and throwing them in the bin, he headed to the sink in the kitchen to wash his hands. “You know which people got you out?” he asks, putting the used medical supplies in the trash along with open packets.

“Marine Unit with a SEAL Team...Alpha think Gunny said,” Ashley was blinking to stay awake. Trent just sighed.

“Kid, get some rest. We’ll talk about everything once you can keep your eyes open.” He walked back over, getting her to lay down. He shook his head at the fact she had pretty much passed out, then unfolded the blanket at the back of the couch and placed it over her. He would talk about everything, though right now, he’d need Amelia's advice on it all.

#Seal Team #Trent Sawyer #OC: Ashley Sawyer #tw: blood #tw: injury #tw: torture #tw: hints of arguments #tw: swearing #tw: nightmares #Sawyer Siblings #B4writes #ao3 series

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vivi-the-sky-kid · 3 years

Text

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 3

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I'm Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai's Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom's history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King's mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there's not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there's something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 3

Word Count: 2755

Warning(s): Ayin needs a hug :(

-<◇>-

“So I hear you've been working with the butterflies, Resh?”

Resh scoffed as they dressed for the day, slinging their cape over their shoulders with one swift, fluid motion. “You can hardly call it work when the damn creatures don't do anything but avoid me. I never should have agreed to this. I can feel Alef laughing at me from here. And the worst part? They'd know if I wasn't trying. He'd feel it.”

He lowered the pizaine around his head, adjusting the cape once it was settled. Their spear followed next. Then Resh picked up their mask, turning it this way and that in their hands before affixing it to their face. Ayin eyed it, their smile more of a grimace at the sight.

“Why not try without your mask? Butterflies can be rather skittish. Something like that must be quite frightening to them.”

“It's a mask. Why would they be scared of that? I'd expect them to fear my spear more.”

Ayin winced. Butterflies were small and quick. A spear was no threat to them, unless the wielder happened to get very, very lucky. On the other hand, a glint of light off that mask's diamond-shaped crest would be more than enough to spook them, especially when it was attached to such a tall figure. But if Resh wouldn't listen to reason...

“It was merely a suggestion...”

They quietly left and went to the central chamber, where the pots of collected light were taken before being shipped out. While pots made it far easier to send light to places like Hidden Forest and the Golden Land, it also simulated the same conditions that allowed butterflies to spontaneously spawn, and so time was of the essence when it came to these shipments.

They wondered if Resh remembered that. It had been so long ago, but Ayin could still recall with great clarity the wide-eyed awe on both Resh and Alef's faces when they were taught about the butterflies and the pots.

A better time, to be sure. Before the Trials. Before the Kingdom. Before all this nonsense with Dark Matter.

Before their growing sleepiness meant that more and more shipments were too late to be useful.

Ayin shook their head and held out a finger. In mere moments, a butterfly flew in and landed, glowing a vibrant magenta as it shared its light with the Elder. They brought it close to their face and whispered, then gently sent it on its way.

Maybe that would help matters.

-<◇>-

Sneaking out of Kumibir's house in the wee hours of the morning was not something Tav ever expected to do; then again, neither was trying to convince a government official to care about light creatures. Despite this, they somehow managed to get not only themself, but the spare light staff and some food, out without detection. It was easier than dealing with eir smug looks over breakfast. They could eat somewhere private and peaceful before dealing with the inevitable. Somewhere like Bird's Nest.

Yes, Bird's Nest was perfect.

As she rounded the hill leading to the nearest dock, two people came into view. One was immediately recognizable as the King's Will. The other was a spirit who acted as the grandparent of everyone in this village. While Tav had never spoken with them, seeing as they were typically away tending to the cattle of the Prairie, they had heard much and more about their charming ways from Kumibir. That included their tendency to ensure everyone around them was well-fed.

Apparently, they did not stop at locals.

“...been feeding you in Eden? You're so gaunt! A soldier like you needs to eat plenty more if you're gonna be protecting our people, doncha know?” the spirit said, lightly bopping their hand against the Will's chest.

“Believe me, I am getting enough nourishment to keep me active. There is no need for concern,” came his strained reply.

Tav snickered and walked closer. As they approached, they called out, “Good morning!” grinning with vengeful delight. The Will moved towards her hastily and fell into step beside her.

“There you are, my dear. I've been waiting for you,” they said, moving to wrap an arm around their shoulders. The gesture caught the cowherd's attention, and they turned their stern gaze on Tav.

“Are you this soldier's partner?”

She glanced up at the Will, who shot her a pointed look, then shrugged. “More or less...”

“Then you better make sure they get fed! Whatever they're feeding 'em up in Eden, it's not enough! Look at 'em! Why, I oughta march up there myself and tell your commander off for not taking care of their troops...”

Tav held back a sigh and gave them a reassuring smile. “I'll keep them fed, don't you worry.”

“Good! That's what I like to hear!” With that, they nodded and left, muttering under their breath.

As they waved the spirit farewell, Tav eyed the Will's gray skin out of the corner of their eye. "They're right, you know. You don't exactly look the picture of health."

"Why, are you worried about me, my dear? How sweet."

Any concern they had—which was none! No concern here—melted away at the smug tone in the Will's voice. Tav scowled and folded their arms in front of them. "No, I would just prefer to not have you drop dead on me, darling. That's all."

It would be hard to explain a government official dying during what should have been a peaceful trip. That was all. That was the only reason she cared—not that she did. The Will was their enemy right now, and enemies didn't deserve any concern.

"You have nothing to worry about on that front. I'll get plenty of nourishment, I assure you," he said, waving a hand carelessly through the air.

Tav raised one eyebrow and rested a hand on their hip. "And what exactly are you going to eat? Grass? Air? Sunlight?"

The Will twitched and drew their cape closer about their body at that last suggestion. He turned away, avoiding Tav's sharp gaze, before letting out a sigh. "If you really must know, all I need to survive is heat. While I can eat food, it is not necessary for me."

"Really?" she hummed curiously, before shaking her head and turning away. Now was not the time to get distracted by scientific pursuits. They needed to focus. The light creatures were counting on them.

"Come on. The butterflies don't have all day."

-<◇>-

Whether today was better or worse, Tav couldn't say. On the one hand, the butterflies were willing to go closer to the Will. On the other hand, they would still shy away from him once they got too close. Quite frankly, no matter how cute the butterflies were, if they had to spend one more day in these meadows, they might scream.

And yet, just when they were truly contemplating giving up...

“You could try removing that mask. The butterflies get skittish around so much cold metal,” a soft voice piped up. The two of them turned away from their unsuccessful attempts to get a butterfly near the Will and saw a plump spirit in a yellow cape approach from the butterfly sphere. At the Will's suspicious glare, they wrung their hands. “They prefer warmer materials, like flowers or sunsteel. I'm afraid the cold metal of your mask isn't very pleasant to them.”

“And you are...?”

“Ah, my name is Degamuc, but my friends like to call me the 'butterfly charmer,'” they replied, rubbing the back of their head with a bashful smile. “Elder Ayin has entrusted me with caring for the butterflies here, and I couldn't help but notice you two were having trouble with the little ones. You could always try taking my advice.”

The Will huffed a sigh, and they flinched.

“It was just a suggestion, though...” they said, voice falling.

The Will stiffened and turned away. They stayed that way for a few moments, then, with another sigh, reached up and removed their mask. Without anything to hold it back, some of his hair fluttered into his face, almost like a replacement for the mask. Still, it wasn't enough to hide that they looked... rather nice. Their square jaw contrasted well with their hair, and if it weren't for the scowl and unsettling gray skin, she'd almost say they were handsome.

Almost.

-<◇>-

Tav had been staring at them for some time now, ever since they removed the mask. Their own mask made it hard to tell what their expression was, but they hadn't blinked in a while. It was rather disconcerting.

He didn't like it.

Resh folded their arms before them, raising an eyebrow in Tav's direction. “What are you gawking at?”

His voice broke through whatever strange thoughts they were having, and they jumped, before crossing their arms stiffly and turning away.

“Y-You look better with the mask on.”

They blinked, the cogs in their head whirling, then looked at Tav in offense. “What is that supposed to me—?”

Just then, a butterfly landed on the tip of Resh's nose, cutting their words off. His eyes crossed trying to focus on it, its pink wings a stark contrast against the blue and white of the sky. A snort nearby startled them ever so slightly. The source? Tav themself, a hand over their mouth to stifle any sounds.

He shot them a glare, and despite the hand, laughter bubbled up from their mouth. Even that butterfly charmer giggled. Despite themself, Resh could feel a blush taking shape above their cheeks; thankfully, it was hidden by the butterfly's magenta wings.

“What's so funny?”

Tav was too busy laughing their head off to answer, but the butterfly charmer had enough of their senses left to say, eyes crinkled with delight, “The butterfly's giving you a little kiss!”

Resh froze. Someone had... said something like that long ago...

Someone once very dear to him...

-<◇>-

Within the Prairie temple, three figures were gathered in the central processing area. Ayin's shrine, its eyes glowing golden and its candles lit, watched benevolently over both the Elder it belonged to and a pair of children—twins, it seemed—alongside them. Ayin gestured the children towards a smaller pot with orange cloth covering its mouth.

“Now, children, these are the pots we use to send light to the Hidden Forest. It's very important that we send these out as soon as we can, because otherwise, butterflies will start to form from the light within. This one has been left a bit too long, you see, so if we open it up...”

With a small puff of flame from their palm, they removed the film covering the mouth of the pot, and a stream of butterflies burst out. The air tinkled like a wind chime as the flurry dissipated, and while most left the temple to seek the sun outside, a few lingered behind. Soft chimes and squeaks echoed in the temple, followed by the twins' soft gasps. Some landed on Ayin's shoulders. Others remained airborne, their golden wings glowing in light from above. One spiraled downwards before landing on the tip of Resh's nose and turning a deep pink.

“Oh, look at that! The butterfly is giving you a little kiss, Resh,” Ayin said, clasping their hands before their chest as their eyes crinkled. Alef snickered, and Resh frowned and wiggled their head, trying to shake off the butterfly. It was a stubborn little thing, however, and at the end, Resh was swaying dizzily and the butterfly was squeaking in triumph—or, perhaps, because it wanted to.

Alef's snickering had shifted to full-blown laughter by then. Thankfully, the butterfly's luminous pink wings hid the blush on Resh's face, but they couldn't hide the way their skin glowed where the butterfly made contact.

It certainly hadn't escaped Ayin's notice.

Their smile was a little strained this time as they put their hands behind the twins and gently urged them along.

“Come, children. We should take these little ones outside, where they'll be happier.”

“Yes, Ayin,” they said in unison. Together, the three of them, as well as the swarm of butterflies, left the Temple for the inviting sunshine of the Prairie.

-<◇>-

“Resh? Are you okay?”

The unfamiliar tone to Tav's voice brought Resh back from their reverie. They were holding his mask now. Had he dropped it during his bout of reminiscence? How nice of her to retrieve it for them.

But now there was something else on their face. Something that did not belong there. His movements slow and steady, he carefully guided a finger beneath the butterfly's rhomboid body and lifted it from his face.

“These butterflies... they came from a late shipment of light, correct?” There was no malice in their expression or their voice as they spoke, watching the butterfly slowly move its wings.

“Ah, um, I believe so. Elder Ayin wishes for us to release them when a shipment is rendered unusable, and many make their way here because of the flowers,” Degamuc said, wringing their hands again.

“As I thought... Ayin has always been soft like that,” Resh said. With a gentle flick of their wrist, the butterfly was sent back into the air. Another was quick to take their place, however, and then another. Soon they had a small, squeaking swarm of butterflies perched on their hands and arms.

Degamuc's eyes closed in a smile as they clapped their hands together.

“Well, it seems you two don't need my help anymore. I'll leave you two to your date.”

Tav nodded as they left, and then did a double take. Unfortunately for her, she was too late to protest. Instead, their hand was left suspended, reaching out for the butterfly charmer's receding back, and soon fell back to their side as they slumped forward. Throughout it all, the mask remained clutched firmly in one hand.

Resh couldn't help the grin that formed. So much drama in such a small frame. Where did it come from?

She seemed to sense their amusement, because she turned to look at them with a halfhearted glare. They folded their arms in front of them and said, with a grumble, “What? You got something to say?”

His grin turned mischievous.

“Were you worried for me, my dear?”

They stiffened and turned away. “What? No! I was just... wondering if you hit your head on something. You started acting weird.”

Resh chuckled and shook their head, looking out over the multicolored field. A butterfly drifted past his vision, the faintest sparkle falling from its wings. When they held out a finger, its body briefly turning into a streak of light as it zoomed to the new perch.

“No, no. I merely remembered something from... a long time ago.”

He laughed at you.

A scowl formed on their face, and they shook off the butterfly. He turned to face Tav once more. They eyed him with a suspicious squint, then shrugged, sunlight glinting off the silvery diamond crest of his mask with the motion.

“Well, I'd say we're done for today. I'll see you tomorrow morning, darling,” she said, waving the mask curtly.

“I'll be up bright and early, don't you fret, my dear.” They kept their gaze on their mask, raising an eyebrow. “But for now, may I have my mask back?”

They looked at the mask, blinked like they had forgotten it was in their hand, and then took hold of their chin. The sun crept lower in the sky as they thought it over, before finally saying, “Mm... No.”

Resh did a double take, mouth agape, and they grinned impishly, placing their hands on their hips.

“You won't need it for what we'll be doing tomorrow,” Tav said. They began walking away towards the nearby pier, leaving Resh to stare after them incredulously.

“And what, exactly, will we be doing tomorrow?”

“You'll see~” they sang out, waving jauntily as they left.

Resh grumbled softly. Then, despite themself, felt the corner of their mouth tug upwards.

Very well. If that was how Tav wanted to play, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Ayin blinked. They glanced down at their hands and flexed them, fingers tingling ever so slightly with newfound energy. It was... unfortunately unfamiliar. They couldn't remember the last time they had felt like this.

A butterfly swirled around them and perched delicately on their mask's pot-like frame. Its squeaking cry brought a smile to their face. Their plan had worked.

High above, their constellation twinkled a little brighter, a little more golden.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

#sky children of the light #sky #sky king #resh #resh my beloved /j #fun fact: all the character names in this are either hebrew letters or randomly generated names taken from friends i make in sky #and hey we're a quarter of the way done #also if you have any questions about story details feel free to ask about them #i will gladly share what i can with you

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cal-puddies · 4 years

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck, Irwin?" You seethe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her reassurance helps soothe your nerves for the time being.

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

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

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

“What?” You ask point blank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep dreaming, Irwin.”

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

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

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

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

"It worked out though," he shrugs dismissively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You call room service to order a bottle of vodka, it’s the only way you’ll be able to deal with him. You hear Calum in the room and make an appearance, plastering on a fake smile. He gestures to his girl, “We were just gonna go check out the resort, wanted to see if you guys wanted to come?”

“I’ll pass thanks, I just ordered some room service. But Ash, you should absolutely go,” you encourage, gritting your teeth.

“Gladly... who goes on vacation to sit in their room anyway?” He quips.

Rather than fight in front of Cal, you give the group a sickly sweet "Have fun!" and breathe a sigh of relief when they shuffle out the door.

You take the chance to relax, changing out of your plane outfit and into something more appropriate for the more tropical setting, you open the balcony doors and wander out onto it. It really couldn’t be prettier. You’re drawn out by a knock on the door and you think it must be room service, but it’s Luke, Sierra, Michael and Crystal. Luke is holding your bottle of vodka.

“Had it charged to our room,” he says, thrusting it toward you. “We wanna go exploring. But let’s all get a drink first.” He smiles, “Save this for later.”

“Ash still here?” Crystal asks, peering into the room.

“He went with Cal... thank god,” you grumble. You set the vodka on the bedside table and grab your bag and sunglasses to head out with them.

One drink with the group becomes two which becomes decidedly more than two and they convince you to explore with them. By the time you get back to the room, Ashton has returned and is lounging on the couch as if he hasn't a care in the world. "Hey roomie," he dryly greets you without looking up from his phone.

“Hey asshole,” you slur, followed by a hiccup. You walk toward the bed and kick your shoes off, and very quickly follow it up with peeling your top off. “Why’s it s’hot?” You hiccup again and land haphazardly on the bed.

"AC wasn't acting right so I called the front desk and they said someone could look at it tomorrow," he explains noncommittally. "I, however, had the decency to leave my clothes on because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

You scoff at his implication. Or you mean to, at least. Despite the climate of the room, the events of the day combined with your intoxicated state has you drifting off before you know it. As you fade into unconsciousness, you think you hear Ash snipe in the distance, "If you barf on the bed during the night, I'm not helping you clean that shit up."

You make a mocking tone at him, you think. And you’re out.

After an evening of drinking, you wake up at 3 AM, needing the bathroom. You immediately notice you’re somehow tucked in bed, even though you’re 90% sure you passed out halfway on it. Your shorts are unbuttoned but not off and all the lights in the bedroom are off. When you make your way to the bathroom, you peek over at Ashton on the couch and he’s sprawled on his stomach, only in his boxer briefs. It’s then you realize it’s still ungodly hot in the suite. You shut the bathroom door, turn on the light and take a quick look at yourself in the mirror before deciding you need to wash your face before going back to bed.

You're in no rush as you use the toilet, wash your face and brush your teeth. It's been an exhausting day and you could use the alone time. You're careful to shut off the light before you open the door and start to tiptoe your way back to bed.

You nearly jump out of your skin when a gruff voice barks at you, "Think you could make any more noise in there, princess?" You're livid but you say nothing and lay back down.

When you wake up in the morning, you’ve managed to almost completely forget about sharing your room with Ash. So it’s a rude awakening when you find him emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips, water dripping from his hair, muscles rippling as he starts digging through his drawers.

“Oh... the princess has decided to grace us,” he rolls his eyes, seeing you’re awake. “You’ve got like 45 minutes till we all do breakfast and judging by the way your phone has been buzzing, someone thinks I killed you last night.”

You groan and wipe your hand over your face, “More like making sure I didn’t kill you.”

As you reach for your phone on the nightstand, you realize the sheets are sticking to your skin which is covered in sweat. "Did the front desk say what time they were coming to fix the air? And Jesus, as if this place wasn't humid enough, why exactly did you need to take the world's steamiest shower?"

“Gotta relax these muscles after sleeping on the world's most uncomfortable couch, sweetheart,” he retorts. “And no, I was not given an ETA but I’m sure when we go down for breakfast you can complain again. Maybe if you do it, it’ll get fixed faster,” he snarks.

You roll your eyes and grab something to wear from your drawers, slamming the bathroom door behind you.

You take a cold shower, partly to wake you up and partly to cool you down (and mostly because Ash definitely used all the hot water on purpose). Even without creating steam, the bathroom is sweltering so as soon as you get dressed, you crack the door open in hopes of maintaining some airflow. You throw your hair in a ponytail and are applying a basic face of makeup when you feel Ash's eyes boring into you.

You look behind you through the mirror and see him propped up against the door frame, observing. "We're just going to breakfast, not the royal ball, Princess. You don't need all that shit."

“Why’s it any of your business?” You ask, staring at him in the mirror. You wait a beat and then work on finishing your makeup, topping off with mascara and lip gloss.

"Just an observation," he begins but is cut off by a knock at the front door. He leaves to answer and you take a few deep breaths to relax yourself. All you have to do is get down to breakfast and then you can enjoy the company of the people you actually came on this trip to spend time with. You hear Ash loudly joking with someone and you exit the bathroom hoping to see a handyman on the receiving end of his banter, but it's just Luke and Sierra.

Sierra smiles at you, “Hey beautiful, how’d you sleep?” She asks.

“I think the only reason I slept so well is because I drank so much. It’s fuckin hot in here.”

“It’s bad in our room too,” Luke shares. “We tried to call maintenance but no ETA on when they’ll be up, sounded like we weren’t the only ones suffering.” He shrugs.

Sierra notes your look of concern and interjects, "But we've got a ton of fun shit planned for the day so we won't be in our rooms too much anyways and hopefully it'll all be sorted when we get back!"

Luckily you were able to get some much needed space from Ashton during breakfast. You sat at opposite ends of the table and Sierra and Crystal did their best to keep your mind off of things.

"Sorry I'm being such a bitch, you guys," you confess during a trip to the ladies' room. "I don't want you to feel like you have to baby-sit me the whole time, you're supposed to be enjoying the time off you have with your guys."

"Babe, we get it," Crystal reassures you. "It's not like this thing with you and Ash is anything new, we're all used to having to navigate it."

"And it's fine, sometimes people just don't get along," Sierra chimes in. "You're not obligated to like all of your friends' friends. We’re all adults, we can handle it."

After breakfast you do a few touristy things and a little bit of shopping before going back to the resort to prep for some much needed beach time.

Ash scoffs as you sort through bikinis, “How many of those fuckin things did you need to bring? Are you going to be ready anytime soon?”

“It’s not like you’re actually waiting for me anyway,” you murmur, otherwise ignoring him.

But he’s not ignoring you, he’s watching your body move through the space, clad only in the bikini you selected. And it almost makes him more annoyed the way you definitely seem to be so confident in it. “Was that your best one?” He snarks.

"Sorry that some of us are actually into making an effort," you shrug. "And why is it your new favorite hobby to just stand there and watch me get ready, don't you have anything better to do?"

You shove past him in the doorway to fetch your beach bag out of the closet. The room's swampy temperature has not improved and you hate that you can feel the transfer of sweat from his skin to yours when you brush up against him.

“I was just trying to be polite and wait for you to head down but I didn’t realize it'd be such an ordeal,” he grumbles, slipping his sandals on. “Fucking ridiculous,” he mumbles to himself.

“No one asked you to wait, just fuckin go, Irwin. I don’t need an escort,” you exclaim, pulling on a pair of shorts.

“An escort is probably the only way you’d get laid with that attitude,” he gruffs, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

You ball your fists up in rage and whip a sandal towards the door. It hits with a satisfying smack and you can't help but wish you had tossed it 15 seconds earlier so that noise would've come from the back of Ashton's head. You walk over to retrieve your shoe and are startled by the knock at the door.

You open it to find Cal with a half-amused, half-concerned expression on his face and his girlfriend looking bewildered. Their relationship was new and this was really the first she had experienced your dynamic with Ash in all of its dysfunctional glory.

"You doing alright?" He inquires, trying to peek inside the room behind you.

"I'm just ready to lay in the sun and not think about anything,” you say, grabbing your bag off the counter behind you and closing the door.

Turns out the sunshine and drinks was exactly what you needed to calm down and within an hour you were laughing and playing in the water with everyone, though you had to watch Ashton flirt with everything that moved, even encouraging them to call him “Daddy, because all his friends do.”

As much fun as you're having, you can't help but notice the heat of the day doesn't seem to be passing. Tired from being in the sun, everyone agrees to head back to their respective rooms for a short rest before meeting back up for a late dinner. You know even Ashton must be spent when the hot wind starts blowing your beach hat off your head and he retrieves it and returns it to you without comment.

“D’you wanna shower first?” He asks, when the two of you return to the room. “Think you got some extra sun,” he mentions. “I can put aloe on if you need.”

“First shower would be great, thanks,” you yawn. “You'll probably need some aloe on your neck and shoulders. I have some if you didn’t bring any,” you offer and then head for the bathroom.

You take your brief shower and come out in just a towel. You grab the aloe, gently toss it to Ash and he makes quick work, lightly coating your red skin in the gel.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, capping it and heading for his own shower.

It doesn't hit you how weird it was to have a pleasant interaction with Ash until after you're dressed. You're rooting around in the suite's fridge for cold water and without thinking, you place two on the counter. You stare at the bottles for a beat, almost as if they appeared there on their own.

"One of those for me?" Ash's voice asks from behind you, startling you out of your confusion.

"I... guess so?" You answer with a shrug, turning to hand him the beverage. He's shirtless and the pair of athletic shorts he's chosen for his post-shower attire hang low on his hips and you wonder why you've made note of that.

“Thanks?” He replies, equally confused. “Wanna watch some tv?” He asks.

“Sure,” you shrug. He clears his stuff off the couch and you sit at opposite ends. You doze off before you even decide on what to watch.

You awaken to the sound of both your and Ash's phones vibrating on the coffee table. You're disoriented but cognizant enough to realize you must have slept through the time you agreed to meet for dinner.

“Oh shit,” you murmur, wiping the sleep from your eyes. You grab your phone and look at the texts and quickly shoot off a reply.

-fell asleep, be down soon-

You gently shake Ash, “Hey they’re waiting on us, we fell asleep.” You wait to see him open his eyes and then you flit off to change into a sundress. “Why is it so hot? It must be cooler outside by now.”

“Open the balcony door,” Ash sleepily replies, peeling himself off the couch. He quickly changes into black jeans and a short sleeve button down.

You throw on sandals and mascara and are ready, quickly, which he appreciates.

Some of your friends trade surprised looks when they see you two peacefully arriving together but none of them comment on it.

You join the group and you all walk together to the restaurant you agreed on for dinner, at the far end of the resort.

Since you and Ash delayed things slightly, the place is crowded and you have to wait by the bar while the staff finds seating to accommodate your large party. Ash volunteers to order drinks for everyone while you wait and you can't decide if it's endearing or annoying that he brings you a vodka soda without you having to tell him what you want.

Once you’re seated, Luke and Sierra voluntarily put space between you and Ashton but he still ends up across from you. You don't mind his presence as much as you thought you would.

The air conditioning appears to be working on this side of the resort, the cold drinks are flowing and you feel yourself truly relax for the first time since you arrived. You even catch yourself laughing at a couple of playfully snarky comments Ash tosses at Luke's expense.

You reach across the table to grab the pitcher of water as you’re all winding down and your arm knocks Cal’s drink, spilling it all over him and Ash. Ash blows his top, going out of his way to make a scene. Everyone tries to move past it but you know all the headway you two had made going into tonight was probably ruined as he refused to let it go, continuing to groan about his wet shirt and jeans.

"If the air hasn't been fixed, our room is probably so hot it'll dry the second we walk in," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Is this fucking funny to you?" He sneers, forcefully tossing his napkin on to the table.

“It is kind of funny, Ash,” Cal says, trying to calm the situation down.

“I said I was sorry,” you shrug. “It’s not like I meant to.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he snarls, storming off to the bathroom.

Defeat settles into your features, upset from the interaction, being tired and the ungodly heat you knew you were about to face. ��I’m gonna head up to bed,” you announce, kissing Sierra and Crystal on the cheek. You wave at the rest of the group while Luke stands to give you a hug.

You hear Cal’s girlfriend, “That was a little harsh of him.”

“It’s just the way they’ve always been,” he explains quietly.

When you pass by him, Michael stops you and offers to walk you back since it's dark out and a bit of a journey to where your rooms are but you wave him off, you're looking forward to being alone.

Heading out of the restaurant, you cross paths with Ash and his eyes shoot daggers at you but he says nothing. As you push through the door, you hear him loudly complain to nobody in particular, "She gets to run off and act like this is MY fault again?"

You ignore it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

Once you get back, you change and pour yourself a vodka soda. The room is still unbearably hot so you lay across the bed checking your phone, and take advantage of the breeze coming through the balcony door.

About 20 minutes later, you're in the bathroom washing your face when you hear the front door slam and Ash barges into the suite like a tornado; he cranks the TV for no apparent reason, bangs around in the fridge and slams some drawers with little regard for who or what he disturbs. You give a silent thanks for the fact that the surrounding rooms all belong to your friends so you don't have to feel embarrassment on top of everything else.

You brace yourself for whatever you're going to encounter on the other side of the door and turn the knob. You immediately stumble on Ash's still damp clothes, which he evidently stripped off as soon as he walked in the room. You roll your eyes but as an act of good faith, pick them up and hang them over the side of the bathtub to dry. You exit the bathroom once more and find him standing in front of the balcony, clad only in his boxer briefs. "How is it still so goddamn hot in here?" He says, exasperated.

“I don’t think they even came to look at the AC,” you observe. “I really am sorry about the drink, Ash,” you murmur at his back. You’re having a hard time tearing your eyes away from his back and thick arms. Your eyes take in the tattoo on the back of his neck. You let out an audible sigh, accidentally.

“Don’t mention it,” he says looking back at you, face red, indicating he was still kind of heated.

"It's just... we had a pretty nice time this afternoon and I was kind of starting to enjoy the peace," you start.

"You know, that's one of the things I've never liked about you?" He says with a calmness that betrays the harshness of his remark. "You're one of those people who can't STAND not being liked by everyone. I feel bad for you." His brow furrows as if in deep thought.

“I don’t need everyone to like me, I just need to know what the fuck I’ve ever done to you, you fuckin fake deep thot. You know everyone sees right through your bullshit? Your fans and your friends, just humor you.”

"You seem to put a lot of stock in what other people think, is all I meant," he says, seemingly unaffected by your words. "And you especially seem to pay a lot of fuckin attention to what people think about me."

“I actually couldn’t give a fuck less what people think about you, but when you parade around like some sort of imbecile, having random people call you ‘daddy’ because wow what a fuckin turn on - girls with daddy issues- it’s fuckin ridiculous, Ashton. You walk around here acting like I have the holier than thou attitude but it’s you thinking you’re some big shot because you have a few gold records. That doesn’t mean shit in Hollywood, every third fucking barista has a gold record and then flopped. Congrats you’re well on your way to being a 4th rate barista, I’m sure your father is so proud.”

Even as it left your mouth, you knew the dad line was too far.

You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, your words hanging in the air. His jaw twitches but doesn't clench. You briefly think to apologize but part of you is still stunned by what you just said and part of you doesn't want to prove his point about caring what he thinks. He considers your statement for a beat more and then finally, he chuckles darkly. He stalks past you without a word and slams the bathroom door.

You stalk toward the bed and grab a pillow to scream into. It’s barely been a full 24 hours and you’re convinced you’ll have the drummer of 5sos dead within another 24. You’re pissed at him for being cocky and hot... wait, what the fuck? You’re pissed at your friends for putting you in this situation.

You forgo the glass and grab the bottle of vodka, setting up on the balcony because at least it’s cooler than the room, and you seethe.

You instinctively start to text Sierra to vent about the incident but ultimately decide you and Ash have done enough damage to everyone's morale for the night. You settle for absentmindedly playing a game on your phone to take your mind off things. You eventually hear Ashton back in the room but you promise yourself you're not going to be the one to apologize first. He has to come to you. And it’s just easier if the two of you let it cool for a minute.

He comes out to the balcony, watching you shotgun straight from the bottle. He drags a chair to the other side of the balcony. “I know you know that was a cunty thing to say,” he says quietly. “You’ve definitely got a way with insults though.”

You don’t respond because you don’t know how, but you exchange a glance in acknowledgment.

You both sit in silence and while the tension between you is thick, you're still able to find comfort in the relatively cool night air and the unspoken truce. You zone out, questioning if this trip is even remotely salvageable and how to proceed with Ashton from here. After a while, you look down at your phone and notice the time, you've been out here longer than you thought. You glance over at Ash, who's scrawling away in some sort of journal, with those goddamn headphones on again.

You stumble over to him and tap what your brain notes is an unreasonable large shoulder, "Hey, 's late."

“Careful, Princess,” he says, pulling his headphones off and resting them on his neck, he checks his phone for the time. “Yeah, it is. Let’s get you to bed.” He breathes, standing quicker than you thought any person should.

He holds your arm, walking you to the bed. You know you’re drunk but you can’t help the words that spill from your lips, “Should stay in tha bed.” You don’t let him go as he gently pulls from your grasp.

“You're drunk and we’re both likely to be pissed in the morning. I’ll get you a water,” he mentions, walking away.

You do everything in your power to stay awake for the 90 seconds he’s away and you latch back onto his larger than normal forearm when he comes back. “Don’t leave me alone,” you whimper.

His gaze focuses on your hand on his arm and then shifts to your face, which he searches carefully. "You're not serious," he declares.

"Bed's closer t’window, can leave it open." You sit up and take a sip from the water he sat on the nightstand. "You'll be more comfortable. No big deal." You shrug and lay back down as if this offer was the most casual conversation you've ever had. To be honest, it probably was one of the more casual conversations the two of you had ever shared.

“I’m not staying because you asked,” he clarifies. “I’m staying because that breeze can’t be beat.”

Ash climbs in the bed in just his underwear and he scoffs a little when you strip off your shorts and tank top, leaving you in a sports bra and panties for bed. “Why are you constantly taking your clothes off in front of me? Sobriety might do you some favors,” he grumbles, getting comfortable on the other side of the bed.

"Doing you a favor by letting you see my bangin' bod," you drunkenly giggle. "And please, I've seen your naked torso more times on this trip than I've seen my own." You blow a raspberry that goes on for a little longer than you intended, given your inebriated state.

“Well you definitely take care of yourself.” He agrees, ignoring your childish behavior.

You plant a pillow between the two of you and turn off the lamp, “Night ‘Shton.” You murmur, cuddling into the bed.

“Night.” He stares at your back in the dark for a while. Not understanding this new feeling creeping up, or caring why the hell you look so good. It’s not the first time he’s seen you like this, but it is the first time he’s wanted your attention.

You wake up a few hours later, dying of thirst. You spot the water on your nightstand and lunge for it a little too quickly and your head starts to spin. As you gulp it down, you remember you invited Ashton to stay with you and your eyes dart to the other side of the bed. The moonlight pouring in from the open balcony shines on his near naked form and it's a sight to behold. You look him up and down, though you're not sure why. You think to yourself how much easier it is to find him attractive when he's not speaking.

You admire him for as long as your drunk brain can handle, before drunkenly texting what you think is just Sierra -he’s pretty when he’s quiet- and you barely put your phone face down on the table before passing back out.

Your drunk brain processes your slight attraction and the fact that you begged for him to stay better than you’d ever let your sober brain and it creates quite the dirty dream about the man sleeping next to you. Your brain reminds you just how much of a man he is and how easily he’d toss you around.

You’re awoken by your own moan and open your eyes to see Ashton staring at you from the next pillow, eyebrow cocked.

"Sleep well, princess?" He smirks.

You shove your pillow over your face, half out of embarrassment, half out of necessity because the sun shining into the room is BRIGHT and your head is pounding. "It's too early and I'm too hungover for you to use that tone of voice with me, Irwin."

“Not very often I have girls moaning in bed before I’ve even touched them,” he says, sounding bemused.

You groan and reach for your phone, closing one eye and turning down the brightness before unlocking it. You realize the text you thought you sent to Sierra also had Luke, Michael and Crystal on it. Luke commented about you getting soft for Ashton, which vaguely enrages you around your headache.

“Not like I’m moaning for you,” you quip, slowly moving toward the bathroom.

Ash is still laying on the bed when you return. “Still fuckin hot,” he grumbles.

Your phone buzzes and you look at it, Luke had forwarded a text from the hotel, - heat warning in place, advising everyone stays inside, hydrated and cooled.-

You throw yourself back on the bed in disbelief. "This can't be happening."

Ash turns on his side to face you, a little closer than you'd like both because of the heat and because of the dream you had. "What's the matter, princess?" He says with a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Stop calling me princess," you grumble and shove your phone in his face.

“Yeah, I already saw. Don’t worry I plan to escape this room as soon as humanly possible,” he admits. “Just waiting for Cal to get his lazy ass up.”

“Are you ever just like... nice to anyone?” You shove your face back in the pillow. The sun really is too bright and you can’t take it.

"Are you ever just like... not super judgmental?" He mocks, getting out of bed and pulling the curtains shut for you. "I've been pretty nice the past couple nights putting your drunk ass to bed. You thought I was nice enough when you begged me to sleep in your bed."

“I didn’t beg for anything from you. And I’m more than capable of putting my own drunk ass to bed... you just think you’re better than everyone because you got sober when you realized you couldn’t handle your alcohol. Seriously, if the worst fuckin thing I’ve done is offer you a spot In my bed where it’s more comfortable then that’s worlds better than the damage and destruction you’ve undoubtedly caused in your drunk state,” you spew.

"You're unfuckingbelievable, you know that?" He shakes his head. "There's no WAY anything I've ever said to you has warranted some of the shit you've said to me recently. You always gotta take it too far, always gotta get personal. And I’M supposed to be the asshole?"

“Just shut the fuck up, Ash... I can’t. I’m done. I don’t have the energy. This trip was supposed to be relaxing.” You groan, plopping the pillow over your head.

"Cool. Good talk," he says dismissively and heads for the shower.

You stick your middle finger up in the direction he headed off. You sigh loudly when you hear the water turn on. “What the fuck happened,” you ask yourself, exasperated, thinking over the last couple days and how the day before you and Ash had been chill for at least a few hours. “I just need to shut my fucking mouth,” you decide. “The only way to salvage this trip now.”

You must have dozed off again because the next thing you know Ashton is standing over you -shirtless in those athletic shorts again, goddammit- and poking at you with his room keycard. "The fuck?" You say with only moderate interest.

"Oh good, you're up," he jokes. God, he's insufferable. "Cal and I went downstairs and they've closed the restaurant dining rooms but they're still offering room service. I need to know if you want breakfast."

“Yeah... pancakes.” You wave him off. “..Bacon and hash browns...” You murmur out, going back to sleep.

A short while later you wake to the smell of maple syrup. You drag yourself out of bed and follow the scent to where Ash is sat on the couch, already eating, full breakfast spread out on the coffee table. "Gee thanks for letting me know the food was here," you snipe without thinking. Dammit. You've already forgotten your plan to keep your mouth shut.

Luckily, as you've learned is the norm, he's preoccupied with something on his phone. "Uh-huh," is the only response you get.

You grab your plate and get a water out of the fridge and then sit at the end of the coffee table furthest from Ashton.

“I hope it cools down some tomorrow,” You mumble, mouth full of food.

“What was that? Speak up princess,” he says pointedly to you.

“I just said I hope it cools off. So we can go back to the beach tomorrow,” you shrug, digging into your food.

"You mean we all didn't fly all the way over here to sit in our hotel rooms with broken AC?" He mocks for no apparent reason.

You roll your eyes but keep your mouth shut, not looking to give him the benefit of another snarky comeback. You eat as much of your plate as you can manage before heading off to shower. To your slight dismay, he’s still sitting on the couch on his phone when you get done.

“Ash.” You mention quietly, his head tilts up but his eyes don’t leave his phone. “Do you think you could do the aloe again?”

His eyes snap to you and he stares for a minute before nodding. “Uh... yeah,” he agrees.

You grab the bottle and sit next to him as he does your back and your shoulders. “Sorry I always take it too far,” you apologize.

He breathes out forcefully and you can feel it on your neck. It gives you goosebumps. He seems to be choosing his words carefully before landing on "Just seems like you don't think about some of the stuff you spit out in anger." His hands stop working over your skin. "I talk shit and yeah I get you think I'm an asshole, but I have never nor would I ever say anything to you as disrespectful as some of the things you've said to me," he says with a quiet firmness.

You nod, because you know he’s right and you chew on the inside of your cheek for a moment, thinking carefully on your own words.

“I know. I don’t have an excuse. You get under my skin and it’s always guards up with you. Sometimes we’ll be just fine and then you’ll turn on a dime, like last night at dinner. Easier to push you away and keep you at arms length than to let my guard down because I don’t know when you’re gonna snap.”

"Right because this continues to be exclusively my fault," he says condescendingly and sits back on the couch.

You take a few deep breaths and then get up, leaving him to sit while you go change.

You come back out, sports bra and lounge shorts and look at him.

“I’m just trying to be nice. It’s my fault too, I know that. I was explaining why I get that way. I know I’m like that, and I’m working on it. I was just trying to clue you in on a trigger.” You sigh and then head back to the bed, collapsing on it.

He bounds over to you, not ready to let this go. "Sorry to break this deluded narrative you've constructed, princess, but 'I'm only a bitch because you make me one' isn't a trigger, it's an excuse and a weak one at that."

His face is flushing and his chest is bright red. You know he's getting heated and you know it's not just the tropical climate of the room.

"You've been like this with me from the second you met me, it's like you never had any intention of liking me and fuck getting to know me." He raises his voice, "If I'm such a shitty person then why are literally all of your friends friends with me? You ever think about that, sweetheart?"

“Well that's a two way street, Irwin,” you huff out. “You’ve never tried to get to know me either. So before you come over here acting like you’re any better than me, remember when you point a fucking finger there’s three pointing back at you.”

You stand to square off with him, like the fight is going to get physical. You know better than to think Ash would lay a hand on you but you’re prepared for anything in this moment. The blood is rushing in your ears again.

"I never said you were a shitty person," he says lowly, stepping closer to you. "I just said you were a judgemental, inconsiderate hypocrite and I don't like you."

“I’ve never said you were a shitty person either, I just think you’re an asshole with entitlement issues that definitely needs to take a look in a mirror when slinging his insults,” you say quietly, also stepping closer to him.

"Sounds like we have a lot more in common than we realize then," he challenges, staring you down with fire in his eyes.

“Seems like if either of us had taken even five minutes to consider the other, then maybe this all could have been avoided.” You don’t waiver, standing your ground. “And maybe, we could have spared our friends.”

It seems like he's about to move somehow even closer to you but the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table cuts through the tense air. "Finally something we agree on," he mutters under his breath as he stomps away to check it.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You realize it was in anticipation but you don’t know what you were waiting for.

You collapse back on the bed, grabbing for your phone. You make a mental note of how his phone is more important than any person in front of him and you slink back into your normal feelings about him.

A couple hours pass of you dutifully ignoring each other with your phones. But the heat is unrelenting and eventually the scorching sunlight starts pouring in directly onto the bed. Even with the curtains shut, the warmth is sickening and you have no choice but to find another place to relax.

Obviously the balcony is out of the question until the sun sets. You huff to yourself and head for the couch where Ashton is sprawled out.

“Can I sit?” You ask.

“Your space is over there,” he says pointing to the bed. “This is my space and it’s probably best we keep the two separate.”

“It’s too hot over there, even with the curtains closed,” you whine.

“It’s what you wanted,” Ash cocks an eyebrow and doesn’t move a muscle.

"Are you fucking serious, Irwin? You're being a child, just move over."

He looks directly at you and stretches his large frame even further down the length of the couch.

"Sorry, Princess. No room at the inn. Think I saw a cot in the closet."

“Selfish prick.” You mumble, turning to walk away.

But that gets him up. “What’d you just say?” He asks, tone sharp.

“I called you a selfish prick,” you whip around, saying it louder.

"Aww, did Princess get her feelings hurt because someone finally won't cater to her every fuckin whim?"

“Literally nothing about this trip has gone my way. You show up last minute and I have to share my fucking room with you because there’s nowhere else for you to stay? Excuse me for thinking for a minute that you might be fucking polite enough to accommodate me a little. Thankless asshole.”

"Didn't realize you were so affected by the mere presence of me," he says with a dark cockiness. He gets in your face. "And I'm gettin real tired of hearing you call me an asshole, Princess."

“And I’m getting real fucking tired of your condescending ‘Princess’ nickname, so I guess we’re both just fucked here.”

"Ohhh I think the name suits you just fine, Princess." He's impossibly close to you now, practically nose to nose. "Unrealistic expectations for everyone and everything. Particular. Judgy. Demanding. Keep waiting for you to tell me to bow down, Princess.”

“I doubt you're good at anything that’d require you to be on your knees, including bowing down.” Your eyes narrow.

“Shouldn’t I say that to you?” He snorts.

"Well then we'd have to add 'liar' to the list of your many offenses."

“Can’t make claims like that without backing them up.”

You roll your eyes. "Is that the only way to get you to shut the fuck up for once? Figures," you sneer. You involuntarily lick your lips and you regret it the second you do, he definitely notices.

“Blow. Me. Princess.” He enunciates.

You're not sure where this audacity comes from but you grab at his crotch. OH. He's more than half-hard in your hand. Your heart is pounding from what you assumed was anger but you're now realizing may be something else. You lean into his ear, hardening cock still in hand and challenge breathily, "Make me."

He inhales sharply, “Gladly.” He pushes you to your knees, pushing your hand away so he can drop his shorts, he does a couple quick tugs to get himself fully hard before pressing his tip against your lips. “Open.” He quietly demands in a way that says not to fuck with him, so you do what he asks.

He taps his cock up and down, over and over your open lips. You make a point of maintaining direct eye contact with him when you jut out your tongue defiantly, catching on a vein, making him groan.

You grab it from him and he easily lets go, curious of what you’ll do. You lick the underside from base to tip and slowly rub your hand over his length, placing sloppy wet kisses along the shaft to slick him up more.

You start suckling at the head, hoping to coax out some precum and you'd never admit to it but you accidentally let out a small moan when you feel the substance on your tongue. By the way Ash is tangling his hands in your hair, you can tell he's getting impatient. "Figures you'd be a fuckin tease," he critiques.

You slowly lick the tip a few times before taking him in your mouth, hoping it will shut him up. You slowly work your mouth up and down his cock, not really trying to take all of him, but enough to keep him quiet. Your eyes are still locked on his as you palm his balls.

He bites his lip and you wonder if it's because he's trying to hold back a snarky comment or a moan. You wonder why you care. Rather than unpack that thought, you decide to press your luck and take him down further. He's larger than you realized and he hits the back of your throat before you're ready and you gag. He grunts approvingly.

Of course he does, you think to yourself, annoyed.

His hand tightens more in your hair and he pushes you further, silently encouraging you to take his cock in your throat, so you do. He lets out a loud guttural moan.

“If I’d have known the way to shut you up was to put my cock down your throat, we would have done this years ago.” He gently caresses the side of your face.

You wish you didn't lean into his touch but you do. You wish you didn't like the weight of his cock on your tongue as much as you do but that's another thought entirely. You quickly determine you like this experience much more when your mind is quiet so you focus on making him moan loud enough to drown out your thoughts.

You confidently bob your head on his cock with the occasional detour to tongue at his balls. You make sure your methods are as loud and as messy as possible. He's easy to read, you know what he likes without you being told.

Your jaw aches a bit from having your mouth open that wide for him but it’s a minor inconvenience for hearing his moans, tasting him. Shutting him up.

“I was wrong about you,” he murmurs. “You can suck a cock.” He smirks and you flick his thigh.

You give him a good suck just to hear his breath catch before you pull off. "And I was wrong about you," you pant, wiping your mouth sinfully. "Turns out there is one thing about you I don't mind." You flick your tongue over his slit to punctuate your point.

He snorts and looks down at you, yanking your hair so that you meet his gaze. "Tired of you running that goddamn mouth of yours, Princess. Mind if I fuck it?"

“Wish you’d fuck something around here,” you saltily reply.

“I promise I’ll find another wet hole to ruin as well.” He grips your hair in both hands and guides your mouth back on his cock. He gets a couple slow test thrusts in to get you used to it before he starts full force face fucking you. It doesn’t take long for him to grunt and fill your mouth with cum and he holds you on his cock, without being in your throat. “Swallow it,” he demands.

You moan around him and do as he says, though you intentionally let some dribble out of your mouth, mostly to be defiant but also because you think that's something he'd like to see.

“Cheeky little fuck," he murmurs, wiping the cum with his thumb and pushing it into your mouth. “Better than I thought you’d be for a pillow princess.”

“Not at all a pillow princess and you'd better be returning that favor.”

He clicks his tongue and pulls you up off your knees. "There you go with your demands again, Princess," he says, stripping you naked in record time. "But I'll definitely do you a favor, sweetheart. I'll bet you've been dripping for me since you first got those pretty lips around my cock."

“Try when I first got my hand on your cock.”

Ash looks at you, gropes both of your tits and pinches your nipples, pulling them a bit. You let out a little whine and he smirks and drops to his knees, quickly hooking one leg over his shoulder. He flicks his tongue along your clit before licking around your opening. “Very wet... Princess likes to suck cock.”

"I like doing things I'm good at." You hope it comes out as confident as you intended but an accidental whine swallows the last word of your sentence.

Ash pulls his face away and chuckles. He slides his hand up your thigh and lightly rubs your slit with his fingers before applying pressure on your clit. “I’ll give you credit, you were good at it.” He smirks, quickly pushing the two fingers in and then pulling them out with a bit of a twist, at an agonizingly slow pace. He watches your face and feels you get a little wobbly on one leg so he grabs you, pushes you back onto the couch. He wraps his arm around one thigh and pushes your other to spread you. He continues the slow pace with his fingers and rolls his tongue over your clit.

You run your fingers through his hair and breathe deep. You'd be lying if you said he didn't know what he was doing. He catches your clit between his lips and sucks hard. You shudder and tug at his hair harder than you mean to. For a split second you think to apologize but he lets out a groan indicating he didn't mind the pain one bit. He sucks over your clit again and you pull even harder just to hear that noise.

The back and forth continues until he draws out a very loud moan from you. You don’t even think twice about the fact that your friends' rooms are around yours. “Fuck, Ashton, yes!” You whine.

He pulls back to nip and suck marks onto your inner thighs. "That's the most positive thing you've said to me this entire trip, sweetheart, I like it." He lifts your leg and pushes his fingers in as deep as he can. "Princess gonna do me the honor of cumming for me?"

“Please make me cum for you!” It sounds desperate even in your own ears but you can’t seem to care about it.

His smirk is definitely making you more wet at this point and he notices. “So slippery in here. Can't believe I finally found a way to make you agreeable," he taunts, slowly thumbing your clit.

You hate that his cockiness is threatening to send you over the edge at this point. "Ash... God, Ash, please," you plead.

“Alright alright... don’t need you begging me just yet.” He brings his mouth back to your clit and sucks hard so you’ll yank his hair. His fingers are pumping at an ungodly pace.

“Yes fuck right there, like that.”

Your chest is heaving and Ash thinks he likes the view. “Can you be any louder?” He teases.

"Give me a reason and we'll see," you manage to pant out.

He sharply slaps your inner thigh, over one of the marks he'd already left, fingers grazing your pussy as he does. You do indeed, cry out louder.

"Don't get smart with me when I'm about to make you cum, sweetie, you won't like the outcome. I promise you," he warns.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please make me cum,” you whine. “Ashton, please!” The whine is loud and the moan when he goes back in with three fingers is obscene. He pushes you until you fall over the edge, chanting "Ash" and tugging his hair while he slowly licks over your clit.

You whimper and writhe as he expertly works you through your orgasm, easing the curling of his fingers as he feels you finish pulsing around them. He dutifully cleans you with his tongue until you're pushing his head away, too sensitive to take any more stimulation.

He lifts his fingers to your mouth and traces one across your lips, coating them in your juices. You look directly at him as you lick them carefully, groaning at your own taste. You keep the eye contact going as you reach for his hand and draw the rest of his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean.

“Naughty little slut, aren’t you?” He comments, watching in awe. “Be surprised if our friends didn’t just hear that little show.”

“Like I give a flying fuck," you murmur, pulling his fingers from your mouth.

He smiles as he runs his hands over your tits, giving them an appreciative squeeze. "Gotta tell ya, Princess, I'm finding that you're full of surprises."

You sit up and reach for his cock, which you're pleased to find already hard for you again. "Gotta tell ya," you mimic his smarmy cadence. "I'd rather be full of this." You give him a squeeze for emphasis.

He grins and gets in your face. "Greedy too?" He places his hand over yours and you begin slowly stroking him. "My kind of girl." You feel his breath on your face and you wonder if he's finally going to kiss you. You wonder why you want him to.

Instead of waiting on him, you push slightly forward and press your lips to his and the kiss quickly gets deepened.

When you come up for air, he cocks an eyebrow at you, “Couldn’t take anymore of your talking.” You shrug.

He pushes forward and kisses you again. “I want you over the fuckin couch,” he growls. You know he means business, so you quickly turn.

His first priority is to land a hard smack on your ass. You probably should've expected it but you yelp loudly nonetheless. Satisfied with both your reaction and the red mark decorating your ass cheek, he delivers a blow to the other side to match.

“Fuckkk me," you moan, wiggling your ass in front of him.

"Oh is that what you want from me, Princess?" He teases, running his cock over your thighs and ass, everywhere except your throbbing core. You hear a whine you don't recognize escaping your throat when you feel drops of precum drizzling onto your skin.

"Even with my ass in the air for you, you've still gotta talk shit," you groan in frustration.

He slicks the tip through your folds and you press your face against the back of the couch in anticipation. “If you fuck half as good as you lick, I think we can be friends," you smirk.

“All you need to worry about is if you can take my cock.” He lands another smack to your ass.

“My throat took it just fine.” You look over your shoulder and wink at him.

"Alright, alright, that's enough out of you," he starts to push in and you gasp at the feeling. He snorts. "My throat took it just fine," he mocks, sinking in more.

He does a couple shallow thrusts before pushing in further. You push your hips back to meet him, taking his cock all the way.

You moan loudly, “Never been so full in my life.”

Ashton spanks you again, ensuring he's gonna be leaving your ass red and sore. He gives a couple slow thrusts and then stops. “You want this cock, Princess? Get it.” He lands a smack to the other side of your ass.

You take his challenge, finding a rhythm as you throw yourself back on his cock. He watches, fascinated at the sight of his length disappearing inside you again and again. He holds your hips tight enough that you'll undoubtedly have bruises. "You look real good fucking yourself on my cock, Princess," he groans.

“Feels phenomenal," you breathe. You brace your arms on the back of the couch and look back at him while you take his cock. “Fuck yes, Ashton,” you pant.

He takes mercy on you and grips your hips tighter, deciding to take over for you. He pulls one leg up, rests his foot next to your thigh for more leverage and starts to pound into you.

The noises filling the room are obscene: heavy breathing, skin slapping against skin, the slick sounds of your arousal, the endless moans, groans and curses pouring from both your and Ash's mouths.

He pulls you by your hair up against his chest and roughly turns your face so he can sloppily kiss you. He pushes your face away when he's done. "All our friends definitely already heard you cum for me, think this time I can make you scream loud enough the whole floor will hear?"

“I don’t care who hears us at this point, I just need to cum on your cock,” you breathe. “Please," you ask nicely, tossing a smile over your shoulder for him.

The grin that graces his face says it all. He goes harder still. Your quiet whimpers quickly escalate into loud moans of begging.

He smacks your ass a few more times as well as your upper thighs for good measure. He presses into the already forming bruises on your hips. "Pleeease... Ashhh... Fuckkk," you whine, each word at least two syllables longer than usual.

He yanks on your hair and leans in to calmly command, "Cum for me, Princess. Wanna feel you all over my cock."

It sends you over the edge and you lean heavily against the back of the couch while he continues fucking you through your orgasm. His pace increases and then you hear his breath catch and you feel him cum inside you. He stays tucked against you for a minute. He shallow thrusts all the way in once more so you’ll remember how it felt.

“Holy fuck,” you groan.

Ash pets your hair and pulls out. You instantly feel the cum dripping down your thighs. “Don’t move,” he warns. He comes back moments later with a washcloth and cleans you up. You stay in position, panting over the back of the couch because you're unsure if you can even move at this point.

He runs a hand down your back with surprising tenderness. It's then that you realize how goddamn sweaty you are because of course you had to decide to have the most intense fuck of your life in a room that feels like it's on the 4th floor of hell.

"You ok, Princess?" Ash asks, sounding a bit unsure of himself. It's so unlike him. You're kind of into it.

“Yeah… it's just fuckin hot and now I’m fucked out. And I fuckin love it," you mumble against the couch.

“Wanna grab a cool shower... together?” He asks, ready for you to bite sarcasm at him.

“You might have to carry me, legs aren’t working,” you chuckle.

He stands and gestures for you to climb into his arms, "Well then, Princess, your chariot awaits."

You roll your eyes but you notice you don't feel your blood boiling as much as it usually does when he calls you that. You shift on the couch, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he gathers towels and turns on the shower.

Once you’re under the cool water you relax and regain some composure. Ash gently grabs your chin and softly kisses you. “Gonna be honest, that’s not at all what I expected from you," he states and then fits your lips back together.

You raise an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? You spend a lot of time wondering what kind of lay I'd be, Irwin?" You tease, softly biting his lip.

“Well no... not really. Maybe a couple masturbatory fantasies about hate fucking you, but you were tied up and gagged for those…" he explains, gently rubbing his soapy hands over your red ass and bruised hips. "Just with who you’ve been to me, I didn’t assume you’d beg to cum on my cock."

You smirk, "Tied up and gagged, huh? Well let's put a pin in that conversation..."

He shakes his head and grins at you.

"To be honest I didn't expect to hear those things come out of my mouth either," you admit, pausing to hiss when his fingers brush over a particularly sore mark. "But to be fair, based on your past behavior I didn't see you as the type to gingerly clean me up after you came inside me."

“I’ve got a thing for after care, not really a 'fuck em and leave em' type of guy,” he shrugs.

“What are our friends gonna say?” You wonder.

“I have no idea but I’m betting both of our phones are buzzing off the hook right now," he laughs.

“No doubt about that... so are we going for round two later or was this a one time thing?” You smile playfully.

He purses his lips as if deeply considering it and you briefly wonder if you'd gotten too comfortable and embarrassed yourself but then he presses you up against the shower wall.

"Like I said before, such a greedy Princess," he teases before crashing his lips into yours with a groan.

After a short makeout, you end your shower and the first thing you both do is go to your phones. Ash snorts. “Cal just sent a bunch of the side eye emojis," he announces.

“Crystal and Mike want to know where I am because something is definitely going on in my room,” you giggle.

You change into your shorts and a fresh bralette and Ash pulls the black athletic shorts back on. He gives you a quick kiss but is interrupted by a knock at your door. He answers it as you settle on the couch.

It’s Luke and Sierra. Luke seems chill but Sierra pushes her way into the room and looks astonished she sees you on the couch.

"Hey sweetie," she greets you with what sounds like surprise in her voice.

"Hey guys," you start but you can tell their attention is focused elsewhere, eyes darting around the room and exchanging wide-eyed glances with each other.

Ash shoots you an amused look but you subtly shake your head at him, waiting to see where this goes.

“Hey… just wanted to check on you guys. There was a lot of noise coming from what we thought was your room.” Sierra looks confused.

“What kind of noise?” You ask.

“Sex noises, moaning, ‘fuck Ashton that’s so good’,” Luke mocks, eyeing the two of you.

Sierra playfully jabs him in his side and he yelps. "Or you know, something like that," he offers half-heartedly.

Ashton, barely keeping in a giggle, says with concern, "Oh I definitely didn't hear anything like that, did you Princess?"

“No... don’t think so, Ash. We’ve just been watching TV,” you explain to the suspicious couple.

“In here? In this room? Together?” Sierra clarifies, so much doubt in her voice and on her face.

“I swear we heard someone moaning Ashton’s name. Asking him to make her cum. Begging, really,” Luke muses with a smirk.

There's another knock on the door and Luke opens it. It's Cal, having walked over from across the hall. “Ok so did you guys hear that too?” He asks.

Luke stands in the doorway discussing the mystery with Cal while Sierra bewilderedly studies your faces.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when you hear Cal thinking out loud, "But how would he get a girl in here without her knowing?"

"No, man, she's been here the whole time."

"The WHOLE time?"

"Apparently."

"Well... I mean… Maybe… No..."

Sierra’s eyes narrow at you, “It was the two of you.” She determines, looking between you and Ashton. “You two hooked up...”

“You said I was crazy for suggesting that!” Luke laughs.

“I didn’t think she’d do it.” Sierra laughs in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

You realize Michael and Crystal must have visited Cal's room to discuss the incident because he shakes his head and announces behind him, "Mike, you were right."

You hear a shout of "Yay! No, wait, ew that's weird. Not yay" mixed with a quieter "Whyyy?" that must've come from Crystal.

You didn't think you were the blushing type but you feel your cheeks getting warmer and you hope everyone will assume it's the heat. But Ash notices and starts waving your friends out of the room, "Ok folks, show's over."

"So we're right then?" Luke teases.

"Get the fuck outta here," Ash playfully shoos him away.

Luke and Cal shuffle out while Sierra turns back and mouths "Oh my God?" at you and mimes for you to text her.

As Ash shuts the door behind them, you flop onto the bed, exhaling loudly. He laughs and climbs on next to you. He kisses your shoulder reassuringly. "You good?"

You turn to face him, "Yeah, they're just. A lot sometimes." He snorts in agreement. "Fuck, they're gonna be so obnoxious about this, what should we do?" You ask, curious for his opinion.

"Well," he starts but then kisses you long enough that you begin to wonder if he forgot he was in the middle of a sentence. He pulls away and looks at you mischievously. "I say we give them about 15 minutes to settle back into their rooms and then we really give them something to talk about."

Tag list: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @therealmrshale @fallfrxmgrace @lukashemmos @justarandomgirlthatyoudontknow @5sos-microwave @madbomb @sweetheartmendes1000 @literally-anythin @lfwallscouldtalk @clemmingstylins0n @ccnicole02 @lustingfor5sos @buteverythingiscopacetic @rosesfromcth @bodaciousbonzi1996 @ashtontotheirwin @captainam-erika-trash @xxgendurvikixx @jazzyangel242 @bluebabycal @rhiannonmichellee @iovehemmings @glitterycalum1205 @katcontreras @cashtonasfuck @ificanthaveu @kindahoping4forever @here-for-the-uproars @canterburyfiction @opheliaaurora @queer-5sos @banditocth @gigglyirwin @glitterycalum1205 @rebelwith0utacause

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

#it's ashton smut #ashton irwin #tropes on tropes on tropes #cass #crystal #friendship 🦦🦦#galaxy brain #idk where this came from #it's a 30 page doc #stay wet #enjoy #this is what we spent all night writing #crystal really is that bitch

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