#There are even girls that will pay for a honeymoon suit hotel just so they can have a group jacuzzi and it's 100% platonic

[askaceattorney]

Warning: Language

Dear Oreocookiezzz,

What people? The people who spend their days on the internet and never actually look around to see how many guys go out to dinner together without it being romantic?

Actually, The Mod here seats people in a restaurant they host. There are many MANY customers that are two MEN dinning together as colleagues, friends, college buddies or church friends, especially in the mornings. In fact, their father, uncles and brothers dine with their male friends from time to time.

Conclusion, either you are completely delusional or haven't been out enough to wake up and realize that two people having dinner together doesn't equate to dating. Just because a bunch of moronic online nerds say it is, that doesn't mean it equates to how people think in the real world.

- Kristoph Gavin

[cordeliawhohung]

Going off of him calling reader his wife, Ps! Gaz whose highest rated video with his favorite girl is a "Honeymoon" night concept where it's basically a really romantic lovemaking video.

Their natural chemistry is perfect and the romance feels real; they even joke around a little and take things slow.

And that vid is what confirms for the fans that there's something going on between them that goes beyond the cameras.

- 🦴

part 237423849 of kore writing a drabble/one shot when she probably shouldn't have. not edited because my brain is fried? idk save me, pornstar!gaz, save me

It's late into the night when your phone screen illuminates your face.

A sleepless night quickly plagues you with a wandering mind that won't let go of the images that still haunt you from your last shoot with Kyle. The two of you have filmed countless times together, but there's something about this most recent one that refuses to let go of your mind. It overwhelms you so much that you've got your studio's porn site on your phone at nearly one in the morning. 

Usually, you hate watching the videos you perform in. It crosses an odd sort of boundary in your mind that makes you feel disgusted with yourself, but you can't help but watch the one you filmed with Kyle titled "Honeymoon Getaway." Before the video even starts, you notice the ratings. Tens of thousands of people have watched the video already, and it was only edited and published five days ago. The ratings are all positive, thousands of thumbs ups and bookmarks.

Your teeth sink into your lip once the video starts. Both you and Kyle are dressed in your "wedding" attire; a well fitted suit with the jacket removed for him, and a white slip that covers your bridal lingerie for you. It's... sensual. The way he kisses you. And really fucking weird watching it from a third person perspective. You vividly remember his breath against your face and the way his hand caressed your cheek, but it's not what you're looking for, so you skip ahead. 

When the video loads the next portion, Kyle's face is buried in your cunt. The angle they filmed it at is nothing compared to the view you had in real life. The way he kissed the side of your knee, keeping eye contact with you for as long as he could as he kissed all the way down your thigh until his tongue was on your clit… it’s a sensation that ghosts along the inside of your legs even as you lay there in bed. 

But the video? Fuck, it’s terrible. Focusing more on the side view, obscuring his pretty face with your thigh. At this point, you’re ready to take the camera and film everything from a first person point of view next time you film with Kyle. 

But that’s besides the point. You’re looking for something else. 

Once again, you skip ahead and the sound of your laughter emanates from the speakers on your phone. Kyle, who had been hovering over your body, had quickly rolled you on top of him, switching your spots. It was done so effortlessly, and you try your best not to gawk at the way his muscles flex as you straddle him.

"Kyle," your voice whines over the speakers.

"Better view this way," is all he responds.

You hate it. Hate the way he makes your stomach churn just from a video alone. It almost churns worse than it did when you were really filming with him, pretending to be love-struck newlyweds fucking one another in an expensive hotel room.

You skip forward again, a significant distance this time, and Kyle has you pinned to the bed on your back. With his hands underneath your knees, you're nearly kissing them as he ruts into you. You try not to pay too much attention as the camera pans to a view of your cunt sucking him in like the good little wife you pretended to be.

Luckily, you're not stuck watching it for too long before the film shoots over Kyle's shoulders, showcasing the way your tits bounce at his relentless pace. You grimace when they zoom in, but it's not much longer before you finally find what you were searching for.

"My sweet wife. I love you so fuckin' much."

You sit up straight the moment you find it, and your fingers are scrambling to rewind so you can hear him again. The breathlessness of his voice, the lilt in his tone. It feels like gold on your ears, yet it has your heart shredding into pieces in your chest. It feels real. Too real.

But it can't last forever.

You pause the video, ceasing the sound of your moans and Kyle's fake confession. Everything spins around you when you look up from the screen and at the darkness of your room. Lonely. So fucking lonely and cold. You shake your head as you look back at your phone, and you decide to make the terrible mistake of sleuthing through the comments.

The idea of it all, was finding something that would turn you off so that you could forget it all and go back to sleep. And there were plenty of disgusting comments:

>> need a submissive wife like this

>> great tits

>> too soft with her. you need to learn to put your bitch in place the first night.

It should have been enough. You should have stopped there, but you don't. You can't stop scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. It's a vicious cycle that you can't stop, and you're stuck reading every single comment and speculation from anyone who still had living brain cells after jerking off to your video. Each and every one of them destroy you more than the last:

>> I feel like i'm ruining a special moment lmao

>> there's no way these two aren't together irl what the fuck

>> can't wait to see these two on OF together when they realize they don't want to fuck anyone else lol

>> nah, they really snuck in a whole crew on their actual honeymoon that's dedication

>> he sounds like he's about to cry when he says he loves her

You shut your phone off and fight the urge to toss it across the room as you slam yourself back against your mattress. All you want to do is sleep but your chest aches so furiously that it's all you can focus on. Everything feels so real with Kyle, and it's not fair that he's always out of your grasp. Always teasing you with the promise of fucking you off camera, of looking at you like you're the only woman in the world.

A tremble begins in your bottom lip as you shove your face into your pillow. Kyle Garrick is going to be the death of you, you're sure of it. Judging by the tears that soak your pillow that night, you know it's not going to be a kind death, either.

[ceilidho]

women are just better and the fact that i’ve been thinking about genderbent cod only for you to push the content out?? i’m so thankful🙌🏽🙌🏽🫡.

i fully need fem!soap and reader going on vacation together. and ofc soap just gets a one bed suite for them because why wouldn’t they share?? they’re best friends and it’s cheaper. they share a bed all the time, it’s no big deal. (and the bed is all dolled up with flowers and mrs. and mrs. gifts when they arrive. the staff addressing them both as mrs. mctavish) and soap just happened not to bring any pjs so she’s spooning reader fully nude. enjoying how flustered reader gets about it.

and they’ve got a private pool. forcing reader to skinny dip w her. and/or swimming up behind reader as they enjoy the view. wrapping her arms around them and fully grinding against her ass. blaming it on the current even though hello??? it’s a fucking pool. grabbing onto readers hips and ass and tummy for “support” so she doesn’t drown even though she’s a damn good swimmer.

and then they have to go out, dress up for dinner each night. soap gushing over how pretty, how gorgeous her hen looks for her. and then ruining readers hair and makeup (maybe dress too) later that night because she forgot her vibrator and best friends help each other out like that<3

then they scissor<33 and poor readers still in denial as the resort/hotel workers drop of their couple package treats the next day and remind them about their couples massage

not realizing you're going on your honeymoon with her until it's too late and you're already in another country/continent.

Soap would use "i'm jus' putting on yer sunscreen, hen" as an excuse to rub her hands all over your tits and ass. scoffs in your ear when you hiss at her that you're at a public beach - no one's paying attention to the two of you, why are you freaking out so much? 'sides girls help each other with their sunblock all the time - how else were you going to reach your back without dislocating your shoulder?

obviously showering together to "conserve water". Soap pushing her tits against yours and lightly teasing you, joking about getting all soapy with her. makes you stay in the shower with her until the water runs cold (yeah, they really ended up conserving soooo much water) because she wants to count all the moles or scars or freckles on your body and says she has to make sure to scrub everywhere so you're all clean :\\

[offbrandhange]

Wedding Day ! | 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

Fluff & NSFW headcanons on your wedding day/night with some of the AOT boys!

! Slight NSFW !

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of sex, pregnancy. Fem ! reader.

Majority of this is fluff, but there are mentions of !BEEP! sooo yeah.

Characters: Armin, Eren, Erwin, Jean, Levi

a/n: I have to take my SAT tomorrow, please wish your girl good luck for those sweet, sweet good grades....

𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙 ~

Helps you plan the wedding and possibly loves it even more than you do. He’s a sucker for quality time. 

Armin would prefer a small or medium-sized wedding. If you want a large wedding though, there’s no way he’s holding you back from having it. 

100% a beach wedding. No doubt.

The venue is BEAUTIFUL. Spent countless nights researching and visiting places to make sure you got the best.

Eren is chosen as the best man, although Armin feels guilty for having to pick only one out of all his friends.

On the day of the wedding, Armin is a panicking mess. Eren and Jean literally have to give him a pep talk before he goes to stand at the alter.

Practiced deep breathing techniques before the wedding. Unfortunately, they aren’t working.

When you finally walk down the isle, Armin starts crying softly. Eren put his hand on his shoulder to comfort him......which just made him sob harder. He cried multiple times during the wedding.

Your wedding rings are the set his grandfather and grandmother shared :’)

Specifically told the bartender not to serve Connie and Sasha more than 3 drinks. He doesn’t trust them making their own alcohol-related decisions at his wedding.

Armin isn’t a dancer but....he practiced how to slow dance just for you.

Shy at first when it comes to the more fast-paced dancing, but Jean coaxes him into it, and he ends up having a lot of fun.

The speeches are so nice!!! But mostly because Armin asked Mikasa to read them over before hand to make sure they were okay.

After the wedding ends and everyone has left, you and Armin sit and watch the waves at night.

NSFW below !

The beach was reserved...meaning it is now completely deserted. I am now politely reminding you, Armin is not a saint. Honeymoon sex on the beach, anybody?

The sex is slow and sweet; he takes his time with you and kisses you all over. It’s 100% the definition of, “making love.”

If you’re down for a kid right now, Armin’s down for a kid right now. He WILL try for a baby with you if it’s what you want.

After you made a mess of yourselves in the sand...Armin would probably let you sleep for a little bit as he watched the waves. He doesn’t want it to end yet.

When he’s finally content, he would carry you back to the hotel, trying not to wake you.

Super considerate dusting the sand off you, and then tucking you in bed. He’s totally cuddling you to sleep, too.

𝕰𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~

Pretty much gives you full control of the wedding planning; he only has a few requests.

Eren would be the type of dude to invite friends, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends. Your wedding is gonna be packed.

Has no idea what kind of wedding he prefers.

Please, god, don’t let him pick the venue. He will go to the first one, look around, and go, “Yeah, this is pretty nice.” That’s how you’ll end up getting married at an AirBNB with a nice backyard hidden behind the local Walmart.

Doesn’t know if he should make Armin or Zeke the best man, so he flips a coin to decide. It landed on Armin, and from that day on, Zeke was super salty.

Tries to convince you to try on the wedding dress/suit the day before. He can’t sleep that night because he’s so keyed up thinking about how pretty you’ll look.

On the day of the wedding, he’s super fucking ecstatic and practically bouncing all over the place.

Eren would get kind of impatient when waiting at the isle, to the point it would annoy the groomsmen. Jean came so close to saying something but was thankfully stopped by Armin.

When you finally walk down the isle, he’s BEAMING. He tears up a little bit out of happiness, but nothing too extreme.

Armin had to help him pick out the wedding rings otherwise you would’ve ended up with one of those plastic spider rings you win at Chuck e. Cheese’s.

Eren gets so fucking drunk you’re worried you might have to carry him back to the room by the end of the night.

Jean literally nit-picks everything Eren does the whole night....which almost ends up resulting in a drunken bar fight...at your wedding. It ends up fine, though, because Levi and Mikasa step in as bodyguards.

You SWEAR Mikasa is giving you dirty looks. Likewise, Eren SWEARS he’s getting dirty looks from Levi.

He does alright slow-dancing, but is so tipsy and distracted by how attractive you are to him, he’s kinda just....trying his best.

Absolutely OBLITERATES the dance floor when the fast-paced songs come on...

WILD assortment of speeches. Mikasa is crying, Armin’s reading a poem, Floch’s trying to get you to join his cult, Zeke is crying......and Eren is sitting there like, “Is this almost over.” You’d think it was America’s got talent, or something.

When the wedding ends, he 100% drags you to your favorite fast-food restaurant. Still in your wedding attire. Seriously, this dude is crazy, but he’s fun.

NSFW below !

When you get back to the hotel, he lets you eat your food--and then he fucks the shit out of you.

Way, way, way more rough than usual; super passionate sex. Multiple rounds, too. You don’t even KNOW how he has this much stamina by the end of the night.

Not even TRYING to get you pregnant, but his dumbass probably accidentally would.

Good luck trying to walk tomorrow!!!

When he’s finally tired, he is GONE. Like, you could scream bloody-murder and he still wouldn’t wake up.

𝕰𝖗𝖜𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍 ~

You can TRY and take that wedding planner from Erwin--the only way he’d give it to you is if you pried it from his cold, dead hand(s).

Tells people he’s married MONTHS before the wedding.

Everyone.....and I mean EVERYONE.....knows you’re getting married. he will walk up to strangers and brag about you.

Erwin invites everyone he sees. Elderly woman crossing the street? Invited. Barista at the coffee shop? Invited. Guy on the bus who offered him a seat? Invited.

All those people attend the wedding, too. Why? Everyone knows and loves Erwin. So when your wedding is literally PACKED with people you have never seen before--you’re only slightly surprised.

You know those reality shows where they have HUGE, expensive weddings? Your wedding would put theirs to shame. Erwin goes ALL OUT.

The venue? A literal castle. How did he manage to book and afford a castle? Don’t question it.

Your wedding dress doesn’t have a budget. Seriously, your wedding is crazy expensive--and straight out of a fairy tale.

You’re pretty sure Levi made himself the best man--and Erwin was fine with it.

Is super excited on the day of the wedding. He knows it’s going to be perfect; he got his eyebrows done just for the occasion.

When you walk down that isle his smile is SO BRIGHT. he is SHINING.

Yeah, those wedding rings? Imported from Italy, plastered with giant, real, diamonds. You will never be able to say Erwin doesn’t spoil you.

Pretty chill wedding, nothing’s too rowdy and everyone’s still having a good time.

Whispers sweet nothings and tells you how happy he is the whole night. He can’t go five minutes without saying, “I love you.”

Just TRY to get him to stop holding your hand; he won’t.

Erwin is so good at slow-dancing??? And he’s so careful with you, too. 100% the one in the lead, but he’s spinning and dipping you so sweetly. Not to mention the way he’s looking at you...

He’s a serious guy a lot of the time, but I honest to god believe in the sweetest way possible, you would genuinely have a really fun time fast-pace dancing with him. You would both be laughing at each other’s moves.

Majority of the speeches are super nice. Hange tried to get Levi to say something, brought him up to the stage and....he starred at the crowd for a couple awkward seconds, then walked off. He conveyed his message through his eyes, I guess?

The wedding is so long you weren’t sure it was ever going to end...

Hotel? Nah he booked that castle, that’s where you’re spending the night...

NSFW below !

You’re fucking in the king bed tonight baby, literally.

Pays attention to your needs/wants the WHOLE NIGHT. Seriously, he’s a soft dom, and makes sure you’re more than satisfied.

Tons of body worship?? He’s so sweet and careful with you.

Erwin secretly really, really wants to give you his babies and start a family with you on the honeymoon. If you’re willing, he will make sure he gets you pregnant; you’re getting no sleep.

After you’re done, he will run you two a bath and clean you off. He adds in a little bonus massage, too.

When you get in bed, he pets your head, cuddling you until you fall asleep. You could’ve sworn you saw him smiling before you drifted off to sleep.

𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓 ~

Jean would definitely help you plan the wedding--he values romance a lot, so having the perfect wedding for him and you, is important. He also doesn’t want to put all the weight on you.

Brags to his friends that he’s getting married--they all get tired of hearing about it.

Normal sized wedding--not too many, but not small, either. Lots of family and friends.

The venue is at a barn. Yes, he picked a barn. it’s a nice venue, too; the only problem is that he’s not going to be able to escape those horse jokes.

Marco is chosen as the best man--and when Connie hears about it, he sulks for a few days. He gets over it eventually, though.

He’s kind of nervous the day of--but Marco reassures him and teaches his some deep-breathing techniques.

Keeps his cool until he goes to stand at the alter--and then he’s in full-blown panic mode. “What if I can’t make her happy?” “What if she runs away with Eren?” meanwhile, Eren is standing right there with the other groomsmen, like “wtf?”

When you walk down the isle--he’s super overwhelmed. He feels a huge sense of relief you didn’t ditch him and run away, but also metaphorically hit by a semi-truck of emotions since he realized he’s ACTUALLY getting married. There’s a little bit of happy crying.

His mom picked out your wedding rings; you only find out when she brags about it--and Jean yells at her for telling you.

His wedding gift to you is a giant portrait he drew of you--and on the back, there’s a message in French. He won’t tell you what it says, but you’re pretty sure it’s an oath to love and protect you ‘till the day he dies.

He does pretty well slow-dancing. His mom also mentions he begged her to practice with him so he didn’t mess up.

He’s a little worried about making himself look like a fool dancing in front of you--but for you, he does it anyways; You both laugh your asses off and have a lot of fun.

The speeches make Jean look like he wants to drop dead from embarrassment. He’s not sure what’s worse--Connie and Sasha doing karaoke, Eren making horse jokes, or his mom telling all of his embarrassing baby stories.

After everyone leaves, Jean takes you to look at the animals before you leave, too.

NSFW below !

 As for honeymoon sex; you better not make a horse joke, otherwise you’re getting laid in that fucking barn. Maybe. He threatens that, but you know he wouldn’t want to have sex there on your wedding night. He’s 100% down for another time, though.

A mix of rough and sweet at the same time--he does the right things at the right times.

Is a lot more passionate and soft than usual--very careful with your body, and makes sure to really take everything in; He wants to remember the night for as long as he lives.

Immaculate aftercare; and on top of that, he lets you fall asleep in his arms, occasionally kissing your forehead.

Bonus: he sings you to sleep.

𝕷𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ~

Lets you plan the wedding, but looks it over and makes sure there’s nothing too crazy happening. He, somehow, is worried you’re going to plan a circus or something else ridiculous to show up.

No one knows you’re getting married until the envelopes are mailed to family and friends. In fact, some people didn’t even know you were together.

Pretty small wedding, it’s mostly people who are very close to you two. It has a very homey-feel.

The venue HAS to be indoors. Levi thinks an outdoor wedding is unsanitary--so you end up getting married in a banquet hall.

Erwin is 1000% the best man. You don’t even have to ask, you already know it’s going to be Erwin.

Is literally shaking and sweating his ass off he’s so nervous the day of the wedding--if anyone asks, though, he swears he is fine. Has no idea it’s completely obvious he’s on the verge of absolutely freaking out.

Erwin and Hange try to get him to relax--but he continues to deny that he is in fact, NOT calm.

When you walk down the isle and he makes eye contact with you--his brain short-circuits. His mind literally stops working and is constantly repeating, “p...p...pre....pretty..” the whole damn time.

Mentally saves the image of you in your dress/suit to use as his motivation to always come home to you.

Tries to remain expressionless, but is literally tomato-red and on the verge of crying; he never thought he’d be able to find happiness--it feels like everything is finally going to be okay. Erwin is smiling like a proud dad, and Hange is trying to suppress their amazement that the dude’s showing emotion.

Your wedding rings are fairly plain--but on the inside of the bands, both of your names are etched.

He won’t read the vows out loud, he simply hands you a letter and tells you to read it another time.

When the time comes to kiss--Levi literally hides behind you and shyly pulls you in. The view the audience gets is your back--and they aren’t sure whether to clap or not.

Your wedding gift to him was a giant assortment of different teas--and he genuinely seemed really excited to try them. He didn’t realize it, but when he mentioned tasting them, he said, “with you” at the end.

Has no idea how to slow dance. Erwin tried to help him, but it didn’t do much, so you teach him on the spot. Your first dance, he concentrates really hard on not messing up, eyebrows furrowed and all.

Doesn’t know how to dance fast-pace either, in fact, he’s pretty confused. You have to grab the man and force him out of his comfort zone, spinning him and all. Hange and the Survey Corp members are laughing their ass off at his bewildered face.

The speeches went pretty well--except for when Hange didn’t stop talking; Levi threatened to force them off the stage, and you don’t think he was joking.

The wedding was fairly short--but only because Levi rushed everyone home; he just wanted to drag you off and keep you to himself for the rest of the day.

After the wedding, he takes you to a spot nearby to watch the sunset. He has a soft smile, and you can tell he’s genuinely happy.

You take HIM back to the hotel--he would’ve been fine staying there just a little longer, in the peace of it all.

NSFW below !

You’re literally taking his virginity. He saved himself for marriage; he wanted to make sure he gave himself to the right person.

Very nervous--and kind of insecure, too. He isn’t sure what you’ll think of him, and he’s worried about you seeing his scars. He STILL isn’t completely convinced you really want him.

Lots of body worship and reassuring him; he melts at your touch.

Once he gets comfortable and into it, he repeats “I love you” a lot.

He doesn’t last very long...but keeps going until you get off, too. He’s still a little confused by everything, so you have to teach him.

He’s half asleep after cumming--but still insists the two of you need to get in the shower.

Was too tired to stand, so you took a bath together instead. He falls asleep, leaning on you, when you massage his head.

You end up being unable to wake him up--the man is dead tired from not only sleep deprivation, the long day, but also his first time.

You can’t get him out of the bathtub, either--he’s too bulky to lift. You expected him to be much lighter due to his height, but his muscle makes him a lot more heavy.

Hange and Erwin have to be called to haul his ass--naked--out of the tub and into the bed. Hange is of no help since they’re laughing so hard--and Erwin is helping, but trying so hard not to break face and laugh too.

After they leave, you cover him up and cuddle into his frame; you could swear you heard a quiet, “thank you.”

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 4

Previous chapter links:

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FOUR

The cab ride towards the White Wolf was much faster and louder than you anticipated. The cab driver's blaring music from the radio was so loud it felt like you were inside a rave. You and Bucky had to yell over the music for you to talk about what has been happening in your lives for the past few months. You couldn't summarize everything in a five-minute cab ride. So far, these were just some milestones you both gathered (well, more of his): while Bucky was in different parts of the world (Greece, Macau, Amsterdam, Monaco, Aruba) managing interrelation business and hosting nightly parties and whatnots, you were just in New York tending to drunkards (and that includes Peter sometimes) and taking photos of whatever products that come your way.

At that moment, you saw your life pass by in black and white, while Bucky's in color -- just a parade of rainbows trailing behind him wherever he goes.

Yet he still found the things you did interesting.

You wondered what the word interesting meant to him. Of course, you didn't bother asking him that. Perhaps he just felt sorry and wanted to make you feel good.

The moment you got out of the cab, you guys took a deep breath, thankful that that awful ride was over. The music floated away as the cab sped up in the streets.

"What a dick." Bucky commented, watching the cab race through the streets. Any more speed, the cab would've flown in the air.

"I know." You snorted. "God, that was an awful ride. I felt like I was at a frat party."

"Funny. You don't look like someone who would go to one." He joked.

"I went once." You defended. "With Parker."

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you and stared.  Blue eyes piercing right through you in disbelief. "Okay." You sighed. "I picked his drunk ass up at that party. But I really have been to a party with Parker." You left out that detail of you and Peter making out at that party. That was just between you and Peter and you wouldn't want to include his stepbrother in it. Or perhaps Bucky knew about it. You did just found out they talk to each other almost every night. But as you told Bucky about that party, you received no reaction whatsoever which meant he knew nothing. You felt good about that.

You and Bucky stood in front of the White Wolf, trying to shake out the ringing in your ears. Stupid cab ride. Why you couldn't just walk here was because of Bucky. Apparently, he was still a bit hungover. You wondered what would take him to get fully sober.

You stared at the wolf headstone once more, admiring it for the second time today.

"I commissioned an artist for that." Bucky spoke, poking his finger on his right ear. "Just found him on the subway one day. He was selling some sculptures he's made. Asked him if he could make me one and ta-da!"

"It is beautiful."

"I have others he has made inside." With this, Bucky started to walk towards the inside of his hotel.

The uniformed man greeted you on the steps. You sent him a knowing smile once his eyes landed on yours. He smiled back as you introduced yourselves to each other.

"Is she still in my room?" Bucky asked the uniformed man who you now know goes by the name Leonard.

"Yes, sir." He replied. "She said she'd -- "

"I know what she said." Bucky groaned, remembering what you'd told him earlier. "I'll call you from up there if anything goes wrong, okay Leonard?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be on alert."

You watched the exchange in utter fascination. It was like watching something straight out of an action movie: "I'll be on high alert" "I'll tell you when the coast is clear" "Roger that" "I'll call you when something goes wrong"

The only thing was, this wasn't some action movie though Bucky did have a plan. You just never knew about it until you got in the elevators.

"Here's the plan." He started. "We go in holding hands, I'll introduce you as my girlfriend. Maybe fiancé! When she sees you, tell her you're my fiancé and when she tells you that she slept with me, I'm going to deny and you're going to believe me because as my fiancé, you deeply love me and believe everything I say."

"Ew, it's like I'm a sub."

"Wow, you're a dom?"

"I can be." You winked at him.

"Huh, I honestly thought you're a virgin. You know, that type of 'never been kissed, never been loved' type."

In your head, you started singing the rest of the song. "I'm an angel in the streets and devil in the sheets, Bucky." You joked which he took seriously seeing it on the look on his face. "Anyway, your plan?"

"Right! She'd yell and go nuts until she gives up and then leaves the hotel -- "

"Then we get married and let Peter pay for our honeymoon!" You finished for him with a sarcastic smile on your face.

He smirked. "I like the way you think, Aria. But I don't think Peter's gonna want that."

"What do you mean?"

"W-well, he's not gonna afford it is what I meant."

"You're probably right." You gave him a low chuckle. "You're rich. Pay for our honeymoon." You joked.

"As soon as we get this bitch out of here, yes I will, doll." He scrunched his nose up and winked at you right before the elevator doors opened. Swiftly, Bucky grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. "Let's do this."

Hand in hand, you stepped out of the elevator. What stood in front of you was the same woman from earlier this morning. Body still clinging to Bucky's shirt. Faint red lipstick still smeared on some parts outside her lips. Blonde hair still disheveled. If you didn't know any better she was just here in the penthouse, waiting, not moving even a single inch.

You put your hand on Bucky's arm, hiding a faint expression of how big it felt against your skin. "Honey, who is this?"

"I-I don't know!"

The unnamed woman managed to step forward, looking Bucky in the eyes. "What do you mean you don't know? We slept last night!" Then, she looked at you. "Who the hell are you?"

"His fiancé." There was a sly smug tone in your voice. Even on your face.

"Fiancé? He didn't tell me anything about a fucking fiancé!"

"What the hell are you saying?" Bucky yelled. His grip tightened on your hand. "I've never even met you! How did you get in here?"

"We spent the night together, what the hell, Bucky!" She bellowed like a monster, then her voice softened. "I-I told you I love you."

"You're crazy."

"Call security." You said. "Now, Bucky!"

While Bucky grabbed for his phone, the woman pleaded, still trying to convince you that she slept with your fake fiancé. "If he says he doesn't know you," you responded, "then I believe him." Bucky slipped away from you, probably calling Leonard from downstairs. He gave you a knowing look, as if ushering you to unleash some kind of hell on his one-night stand. "You need to go, lady, if you don't want to be banned in every hotel here in New York. Yes, my fiancé can do that. So better get your ass out of here or -- "

"Okay, okay!" She held up her hands, giving up. "I'm out of here! Jesus fucking Christ -- " She mumbled more under her breath as she took of Bucky's clothes, revealing a white tank top underneath. She picked up her heels that were scattered on the living room: one shoe on the couch, the other near a foot of a small table. Picked up some pair of jeans on the carpet before stepping inside the elevator.

"I wish you luck in your fucking marriage." She said, tone filled with rage. Then, she proceeded to flip Bucky one last time before she disappeared behind the elevator doors, eyes boring into Bucky's.

"Okay, she's going down. Tell her to never come here again. Thanks, Lenny." Bucky dropped the phone call and gave you a smile. "And thank you for your performance."

You bowed, like how actors bow after a play ends, and flashed him a smile. "Why, thank you."

"Thanks to you I'm never gonna see that woman again in my life."

You turned your back on him, seeing the place for the first time without a tainted image of the woman. A line of little sculptures near every wall (perhaps the ones he commissioned from that subway artist). Family photos, albums and trophies took up a whole cabinet. You shifted your gaze towards the living room where a nice brown couch sits on top of a beige rug, which faced a huge flat screen television. Two pairs of love seats sat across from each other. A glass table set in the middle. On the back wall was a photograph of Bucky which took the whole space. He wore a neat, well-pressed grey suit, sitting on what seemed like a throne inside a home office, one leg stretched outwards and one leg just resting normally on the floor. He had this head tilt on one side, right hand under his chin, blue eyes looking directly at the camera. On its floor were stacks of magazines, and papers.

Even you couldn't deny how good Bucky looked in the photo but the photograph itself? You knew you could do better than that.

You turned around and found Bucky nowhere. "Bucky?"

He then emerged from what seemed like a kitchen because he was carrying loads of food and trod towards where you were and placed everything on the coffee table. "Yeah?"

"If I wasn't here, what would've you done?"

He shrugged, and opened a yogurt. "Probably stay in your apartment forever."

"Wow," you sat on the couch, watching him devour the food on the table, "seems like you've planned everything out."

"Seems like it, yeah."

"Do you always do this, Bucky?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have sex with girls, then make up a lie to get them out of your life."

"Oh, that was the first time." He replied. "Those three words really freaked me out. I've never heard that come from someone besides my family. Never even told anyone I've loved them, again, except my family."

You nodded in response and looked around the penthouse some more, admiring some paintings, big and small, on the walls. Perhaps some were real, perhaps some were just school ofs. On your right, was a draped curtain covering a whole glass wall that overlooked New York city. Bucky clicked some button somewhere which let the curtains open, letting some of the New York sun inside. From here, one could see the whole view of New York. All its pleasure, glory, grime, and lowliness.

Oh, the things you would give to live in a place like this. If you wanted to take in the beauty of New York, you had to climb up on the fire exit towards the rooftop. And the view from up there wasn't as pretty as this one. All the pretty spots were behind million dollar skyscrapers.

You looked at Bucky once more who leaned against the love seat, then closed his eyes. That same fuzzy image, which you thought you had buried at the back of my mind, resurfaced.

"Bucky?"

He shot straight up. "Yeah?"

"Have we... met each other before?"

A frown formed on his face, his blue eyes meeting yours, his gaze intense; as if he was trying to put a finger on something, on you. But then he gave up, telling you perhaps you'd just seen him somewhere here in New York the last time he was here, bumped into him. Something like that.

You agreed. Maybe that was it.

Again, you pushed that image at the back of your mind, hoping it would never come up while Bucky was still here.

You were about to ask Bucky how long he was planning to stay in New York before partying in every country outside America when your phone rang.

It was Steve. You picked it up immediately. "Hey, Steve. Is everything okay?"

Bucky shot his head towards you, perhaps wondering who this Steve was.

"Hey." He replied. His voice was groggy, like he just woke up. "There's been some misunderstanding with the shipments. They thought I said drop them in the morning. Long story short, the shipments are just outside the pub's door."

"What? They can't do that!"

"They have a lot of deliveries today so they had to. I told them to wait for you but those are impatient bastards. New shipment boys."

You cursed then stood up. "I'm actually not in the apartment right now. I'm somewhere else. Not important. I'm on my way."

"Get there fast, Aria."

"I will, don't worry. Bye, Steve."

Once you got off the phone, you told Bucky the whole situation.

"Let's go then!" He said with much enthusiasm. "Those drinks are no good sitting out there. How else am I going to make you the best drink you'll ever have, darling?"

[mandoalorian]

is there a way we could get another maxwell, alistair, and reader blurb with a family vacation?

Vacation with Maxwell Lord and Alistair

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: NONE, tooth rotting fluff.

Rating: PG

Masterlist

It was your first ever family vacation— and you had to make complete sure it would be one you'd never forget. The honeymoon was amazing, but only two months after the wedding, you were already begging your new husband for another holiday, this time with little Alistair. You loved Alistair like he was your own child, and from the moment he started calling you ‘mommy’, you knew you'd never love another child the way you loved him. You didn't care that he wasn't yours by blood, you loved him unconditionally. It was one of the things that Maxwell immediately saw in you— one of the qualities that made you stand out against any other woman he'd ever been with.

Maxwell was still in bed by the time you had gotten out of the shower. He'd woken up briefly, promised you that he'd get dressed, but clearly he'd fallen back asleep. You didn't blame him, the jet lag was creeping up on you too, but Alistair was bright and full of energy, and you needed Max to wake up. You beckoned Alistair to come over.

"Can I wake daddy?" your son asked with a mischievous smile. You smiled, your toothbrush wobbling between your teeth as you nodded your head in affirmation. Alistair's face completely lit up as he ran over to the king sized bed where Max slept. He threw himself on top of his father, bouncing up and down, screaming melodies of “wake up daddy!” and “it’s time to get up!”

You chuckled to yourself as you watched your husband, as disheveled as ever, roll over and tackle Alistair into a hug.

"Shhh," Maxwell moaned groggily, pinning Alistair down amongst the sheets. Alistair surprisingly listened to his dad, immediately quieting down before erupting into a fit of uncontrollable screams and laughter. You managed to get a glimpse of Max tickling his son, and shook your head, unable to contain your smile. You had never been so happy, and you knew that Max had never been this happy either.

"Boys," you called, biting your lip. Alistair's and Maxwell's heads both snapped up in unison as they stared at you with wide, doe eyes. "you gotta be quiet. It's still early and people are still sleeping." you mentioned, referencing your hotel neighbors.

"Your mother's right," Maxwell huffed, finally getting up.

"How come you and daddy get the big bed and I get the little bed?" Alistair asked you curiously, following you into the bathroom and tugging on your arm for attention.

"You have a big bed at home," you mumbled as you combed through your drying hair. "Besides, you don't seriously expect me and daddy to sleep in the tiny bed, do you?"

Alistair laughed at the thought. You helped him squirt some toothpaste on his brush and poured him a glass of water for him to drink after he brushed his teeth as Max finished throwing some clothes on. You smiled, walking out of the en-suite and towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his body and nuzzling your face into his chest.

"I like this shirt," you told him as you gently smooth down the material. He wore a blue and white pinstripe button down, the first few buttons undone and a pair of cream coloured pants and sandals. You had to practically beg him to dress in something convenient, otherwise he would've happily packed an abundance of his three piece designer suits he wears for work.

"I like you," he murmured, his hands dropping to your waist as he began to sway his hips. "I'm glad we're doing this." Maxwell smiled, glancing back into the bathroom where Alistair was still getting ready.

"Me too."

***

"Don't forget the sunscreen!" you called, laughing as Maxwell achingly rubbed the small of his back. He was carrying two huge, heavy bags, one filled with Alistair's toys and the other filled with beach towels and swimming costumes. You had tried persuading Alistair that he didn't need to bring his toys to the beach, but much like his father, he was adamant and would not change his mind for anyone.

Alistair came running out of the hotel room holding a bottle of sunscreen. It looked gianormous in his tiny hands.

"Got it!" he screamed excitedly, bouncing up and down.

"Good," you praised, taking his hand in yours. "Are you going to let me put the sunscreen on you, or daddy?"

Alistair contemplated for a second. "What if I don't want to wear sunscreen?"

"You have to," Maxwell sighed as you took one of the bags from him, immediately easing up from the loss of weight.

"But what if-" the little boy began to argue, but his father cut him off.

"Alistair." Maxwell said sternly, furrowing his eyebrows and pointing his finger.

You nudged your husband in the side, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow. "Don't be miserable," you warned him with a gentle whisper and Maxwell nodded his head understandingly. "Alistair, if you let your daddy put sunscreen on, I'll go get you an ice cream?"

Alistair's eyes became comically wide as he smiled a toothy grin. "Deal!" he exclaimed, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You giggled, shaking the little boy's hand.

"Didn't think my son would be making business deals so young," Maxwell chuckled as you walked out the hotel lobby. You rested your head on his shoulder as the blinding warm sunlight beamed against your skin. You hummed, adjusting your sunhat and digging into your bag to pass Maxwell his sunglasses.

"He takes after his father," you giggled. "Which way is the beach?"

Alistair tapped a finger against his chin. "I think it's that way!" he announced.

"And what makes you say that?" Maxwell asked, popping his gold framed sunglasses on and running a hand through his dark blonde hair.

Alistair shrugged.

"We could just walk and see where it takes us?" you suggested. Maxwell didn't care where you'd go, all that mattered to him was that you and Alistair were having fun and being happy. It was your first family vacation since he had married you, and he lived to see your smile. Max enjoyed vacationing, sure, but this was the first time he'd gone somewhere tropical and exotic. He'd usually venture to some foreign city, somewhere he'd still be able to work if he needed to. You swore that there'd be no working on this holiday though. Maxwell needed a well deserved break. The pebbled pathway took you to a swimming pool, rather than a beach, but Alistair was still happy enough.

The pool was huge, with turquoise tranquil waters. It wasn't too busy, which was ideal— it meant there was less chance of your husband being noticed. You found two unoccupied lounge chairs and popped your bags down on them, claiming them as your own.

"Can we go swimming?" Alistair asked and you nodded your head.

"Yes but remember, sunscreen. Go see your daddy." you told Alistair and he nodded obediently, padding over to his father who was unpacking his bag. Maxwell seen to Alistair, making sure he was completely protected, and began to blow up his inflatables.

"Daddy? Can you go swimming with me and mommy?" Alistair asked curiously as soon as Maxwell had lay down on the lounge chair. He had unbuttoned his shirt fully now, relishing the heat as it warmed his chest. Max picked up one of the fiction novels you'd encouraged him to read, and was so engulfed in the literature, he hadn't even heard his son. "Daddy?" Alistair called again, poking Max in the belly.

"Yes?" Maxwell huffed, his eyes not leaving the pages.

"Can you go swimming with me and mommy?" Alistair repeated.

"Daddy doesn't swim," Maxwell grimaced. "Look Alistair, daddy is reading. Daddy is relaxing. Why don't you go play with mommy in the pool and then we can grab some ice cream?"

"But I want to swim with you daddy!" Alistair begged, tugging on Maxwell's arm. "Please daddy, please!"

Maxwell couldn't resist the pleas of his son. Alistair knew how to soften his father. Max glanced up at you, surprised to see that you were already smirking knowingly back down at him— and had witnessed the whole conversation. You knew Max would eventually cave and do whatever Alistair wanted. He put his book down on your lounge chair and sat up, shuffling out of his shirt and pulling down his pants. You grinned when you saw he was already wearing his swimming trunks underneath.

The water was warm and refreshing, and it felt wonderful to swim around. You and Alistair both chased Max around the pool, splashing him playfully, paying extra care to get his hair wet. Max hated it, but you loved the way his hair fell out of place and his natural waves would appear. You watched as Max lifted Alistair in the air and sat him on an inflatable toy, watching him as he ate his promised ice cream.

"I love our little family." you revealed, treading through the water towards Max and wrapping your arms around his body.

"Me too," Maxwell said, brushing a gentle kiss on your lips. "You know I've been thinking…" he said, turning his attention back on Alistair who was now clagged up in vanilla ice cream. Max tsked, shaking his head. "Thinking what if our little family stops being so little."

You turned to face Max, your eyes widening slightly. "What are you saying?"

"You're such a good mother to Alistair, and I just keep thinking about how much I wanna see you carrying one of my own children." Max smirked and you felt your cheeks heat up as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

"Really?" you asked, the prospect exciting you. "Another child?"

And in true Maxwell Lord fashion, he replied, "Why not more?"

Taglists — let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog

Maxwell Lord: @mrschiltoncat

[riversofmars]

Oh stars a prompt! 13 saying "Please stay?" to River

Ohhh thank you! I think this is probably not what you expected but hope you like it <3

Word count: 1500

Rating: G

Read on AO3 or below

Please Stay

“Please stay.“ The Doctor called to River when she spotted her. She had been waiting for her at the bar. She hadn’t known the exact time she would turn up, her memory was rather blurring on the matter, but she knew that this was the night River would be leaving Darillium for good. River looked up from her vortex manipulator startled. She hadn’t expected anyone to be around. Even though Darillium was a world on which day and night each lasted twenty-four years, they still counted days, day and night time. The body still needed to rest after all and right now was when most people were asleep. She hadn’t considered someone might actually be using the bar at the time when only androids were on hand to serve.

“And who might you be?“ River raised her eyebrows at her. “You’re not staff, I haven’t met you before. A new guest? But this is not how you greet someone you haven’t met yet. Which begs the question, do we know each other?“ She took a step closer into the hotel bar, slightly intrigued.

“Just a friend.“ The Doctor managed a weak smile as she looked back at her. She tried her very best to keep her emotions at bay. The adorations, the longing, the incredible sense of bittersweet sadness, the grief… It threatened to overtake her when her wife stepped closer but she swallowed it all down.

“Of the Doctor’s? Is he that scared about me running off?“ River smirked, jumping to conclusions as she figured she couldn’t be a friend of hers, she would have remembered a face as pretty as that.

“He seems to have a reason to be.“ The Doctor pointed to the vortex manipulator on her wrist.

“Oh, don’t worry, he’ll never know I’ve gone, be back before he wakes up, beauty of being a time traveller.“ River chuckled in amusement. The girl seemed to know a lot about her, so she had to be a friend of the Doctor’s, River decided.

“And where are you going?“ The Doctor pressed on, hoping she had got here at the right time.

“Aren’t you the nosy one!“ River exclaimed in amusement but felt inclined to answer: “Just a little expedition, very lucrative. Let me tell you, renting the honeymoon suite for twenty-four years isn’t cheap.“

“Isn’t the Doctor paying for it?“ The Doctor frowned.

“The Doctor? Oh heavens no. His credit ran out within the first fortnight. There is only one person in this marriage bringing home money. But let’s keep him believing that, shall we? Our girl secret. Mustn’t hurt his ego.“ River winked and the Doctor tried her best not to be offended. It certainly explained why she still hadn’t received a bill for their time here.

“Please stay. Like you say, the beauty of time travel, you can go to the Library whenever you want, have a day here too, what’s another twenty-four years to a time traveller?“ The Doctor suggested as she had planned to.

“How do you know I’m going to the Library?“ River was quick to jump on her mistake and the Doctor went very pale.

“Uh…“

“You’re in my future, aren’t you… Have you been sent here to keep me from going?“ River tilted her head. She could spot a time traveller from a mile away and she could positively feel the artron energy fizzing off of her, like it did of herself or the Doctor. This conversation was getting more intriguing by the second. “Why?“

“No, no, I just mean, why don’t you delay?“ The Doctor looked to the staircase at the top of which she knew their suite to be. “For his benefit, like I said, I’m a friend.“

“And now you’re blushing. You’re hiding something. Two of my favourite qualities in a girl. Secretive and easily flustered.“ River hummed, her voice sultry and the Doctor felt herself blushing again. She had almost forgotten how much River enjoyed flirting. “Why shouldn’t I go to the Library?“

“You have to go, you absolutely have to, but not now, just delay a little while.“ The Doctor replied. She still needed her to go, eventually, of course she did, to keep the timeline intact but why not delay a little while? It’s what she had come here to convince her about. Twenty-four years… it just hadn’t been enough. She needed more time with her. And if she couldn't meet her again, maybe she could have more memories, more time with her that way.

“To be honest, I’ve been getting bored, I’ve been sneaking away for adventures for ages. He does too, I know he does.“ River laughed. “People like us, we’re not meant to stay in the same spot for too long, we need our adventures but we always come back, we both do. This is our home now.“ She explained.

“Is that how you see it?“ The Doctor replied softly, her words weren’t lost on her, they shook her to the core.

“Home is where the heart is and my heart is with him. Always. I will always come home to him.“ River gave her a kind smile and turned her attention to the vortex manipulator.

“So when you’re done in the Library, you will come back here?“ The Doctor asked, her heart incredibly heavy. This whole time, River had always planned on coming back.

“With a decent pay check from Lux Industries that will pay for the next twenty-four years, absolutely.“ River grinned. “Maybe it’ll even pay for a new lick of paint in our suite. Now, I must be going before he wakes. Don’t worry, I’m good at this, I’ll be sure to be back in, let’s say, five seconds? Then you can fill me in on how exactly you know my husband.“ She engaged the vortex manipulator and disappeared into thin air before the Doctor even had a chance to say goodbye, breaking her hearts all over again. The Doctor was glad to be alone in the bar. There was no-one to witness her tears as she waited, hoping against hope. Five seconds turned to ten, to five minutes but River didn’t return. Of course she didn’t.

“This is it then.“ A voice sounded from the top of the stairs making the Doctor jump. She didn’t know how much time had past since River had disappeared but it must have been a while.

“Sun is coming up.“ The Doctor mused as she looked out onto the balcony.

“The night is over.“ Her younger self descended the stairs, his white hair uncombed, his waistcoat undone… he had gotten comfortable on Darillium. The Doctor gave him a half-hearted smile. The best years of their life had just come to an end. She didn’t have to tell him, he already knew.

“I tried to stop her, suggested she go to the Library later…“ The Doctor said softly as he came to sit next to her.

“That was dangerous.“ He observed but he wasn’t scolding her, he was merely stating a fact.

“I thought maybe if she just delayed… just a little more time… another night… new memories.“ She waved her hand around, struggling to articulate her reasoning but she knew she didn’t need to. He already understood, they were the same person after all.

“Foolish.“ He mumbled and waved to an android for coffee.

“I know.“ She sighed. “But I had to try.“

“You must miss her terribly.“ The grey-haired Doctor mused and looked to her with nothing but kindness and compassion in his eyes. She chuckled and smiled, this was what she had liked best about being him, his incredibly capacity for compassion behind his tough facade.

“You will.“ She sighed.

“I’m sorry, Doctor.“ He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“So am I.“ She blinked away her tears. “Twenty-four years…“

“More than a lot of people get.“ He felt the need to remind her, as much as himself, as the reality of River’s departure was starting to sink in. He looked to his future self with a heavy heart, realising it wouldn’t get any easier.

“What’s twenty-four years when you want an eternity.“ The blonde Doctor whispered wiping away her tears as she tried to compose herself. This was not the end. It couldn’t be. She refused to accept it. “You should go to Missy’s execution now. You’ve been putting that off for far too long.“ She said looking to her past self who sighed:

“Luxury of being a time traveller.“

“That’s what River said as well…“ She chuckled. “But some things you can’t put off forever.“ He nodded, how could he argue with himself?

“And where are you off to now? I won’t remember this so you can tell me.“ He said and picked up the coffee an android placed in front of him.

“Who knows.“ The Doctor smiled getting to her feet. “Perhaps to a very big Library… I might have more luck there than here.“

“Good luck, Doctor.“ He smiled feeling a sense of hopefulness at the thought.

“You too, Doctor.“ She mirrored his smile.

“Still not ginger then?“ He called after her as she turned to leave.

“Still not ginger.“ She confirmed with a laugh.

“Bet she liked the look for you though.“ He winked and she chuckled:

“I think she did, yeah.“

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hide Your Love Away (Paul McCartney x fem! Royal! reader Oneshot)

From an anon request:  can you write Paul x reader oneshot or something where she’s going to have an arranged marriage the following day, which is forced by her family. but she doesn’t want it since she’s secretly dating Paul. So they go on their last date, pretending it’s their honeymoon just for one day since they know they have to be separated after that🥺(sry I’m a sucker for sad/angst fic with lil fluff)

Word Count: Less than 2K

Warnings: swearing, angst with fluff, mentions of weddings and sex. Lack of editing,

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! In order for the premise to work, I decided to make you a member of the noble class who has to marry into royalty  (I got inspired some by The Crown on Netflix, whoops) when you really love Paul. Much love to my angels @joeneslee​ @bens-jawline​ and @rhapsodyrecs​ for helping me when writers block stuck for this one!

 “I just met him, how can I marry him?” you asked with tears blinking in your eyes.

Sighing, you could tell the diadem on your mothers head was beginning to droop. Your father began cutting his meat with more fury. It made the metals on his suit follow in a clink, clink, clink.

“Because this marriage is important to us- to your whole family!” he said.

“But he…I…how do you know it will work?” you question. The diamonds on your necklace feel like an icy grip.

“That doesn’t matter, you will make it work. You always have. It’s the price you pay for your title. It’s going to secure everything. The Prince of Cardonia already agreed to it,” your mother said.

“I…”

“Y/N, you’re a duchess. You do understand the consequences if you don’t do this…money will fall, we’ll lose protection…our house, everything.”

Squeezing your hands together, you began to blink away tears.

“And think of how the alliance will help us, politically. Do you want our people to suffer?” your father pointed out.

You agreed to the match. In a way, you could be a good leader still. Carry out orders. Make changes. Protect people. But it was useless now.

In your room, you began dialing madly for his number. Pacing, the ring on the phone seemed to last forever. Who knew a chance encounter at a party for music led to you both. Then all these phone calls. The meetings. Then meetings led to more talk. And soon your mouths stopped talking and started kissing.

“Y/N…I’m speechless…and you…you can’t say no…” Paul wonders. Your throat feels dry.

“I don’t have a choice! I…I didn’t choose this, they just…announced it,” you mourned.

Those calls are made in plenty the following weeks. You get fitted for the wedding gown a month later. It’s a wide gown decked in lace covering your neck and shoulders with a long train that leaves lace down like a cape. Everyone says you look beautiful, but you don’t feel like it. You are constantly asked for details about the wedding. You gave boring answers. You don’t want to make it too fussy, but at least pretty. But it’s soulless, you feel like.

The day comes sooner, so Paul suggests something…a trip.

You don’t know how, but you managed to get away. You had a few trusted friends who covered for you

The prince of Cordonia isn’t like Paul at all. He is stiff and dull. Not abusive, you don’t think, but that could change.

Paul is super ambitious and works to get the secret trip right.

Right as you get on the plane, making sure it is private and paying guards and the pilot extra, you look at Paul.

“We could…pretend…”

“Pretend what?”

“Pretend we’re married. That we’re going to be at our honeymoon…I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to later…”

Smiling, you begin to drum your fingers on the tan plush arm of your seat.

“How in god’s name did a damn Beatle escape from the press?” you asked. The plane whirred as it soared over the air.

Paul sighs, taking a sip of water from a plastic cup. 

“A lot of help, that’s what. Didn’t you get your friends in? Well, I got friends too,” he answered with a wink that always flipped your stomach.

“Where are you even going?”

He smiled.

“Ibiza, Spain!”

“Spain! I’ve never been to Spain!” you cried. Running up, you give him a girlish hug and kiss his cheek.

The jet plane landed and you both made your way to a hotel. Paul donned fake facial hair and as soon as you were led to your suite, he ripped it off. Though it looked red and tears stung his eyes.

“Oo-owww!”

You began to laugh hard at his reaction before tossing yourself on the feathery bed. That first night you both indulged in a large dinner while watching the sun go down and after much evening walking, settled into your bed for the first sleep after traveling.

When you both woke up, you saw his face first. Then your eyes flitted open. The sunshine of the Spanish morning poured in from over his head. He looked even more angelic.

“Hello husband!”

“Hello Wifey!” he said, kissing your forehead. 

Both of you cuddle up against the cold air from the AC before ordering a breakfast and spending time in your pajamas…as well as out of them. Smiling and taking in each other. Chatting about the habits of his other band members and laughing at them like normal.

They explored old towns. Spanish architecture, orange and tall, surrounded them. You bought lunch at little local restaurants, usually saving room for cold gelato served in cones dusted with cinnamon. It was touristy. It was cliche. It was perfect.

Both of you go through markets all afternoon when it’s too hot to do anything else. Thanking the heavens for shade and cheering at the sight of a working fan. One market had a tendency to be overpriced. Not that neither of you couldn’t afford it. 

Glancing over there was a young woman eyeing a necklace. Maybe a local. Her eyes were bright as she admired how the gems shone in the light and how they flattered her skin. But when she glanced at the price tag, she frowned.

Nudging, you murmur “I’ll be over there…”

You walk up to the young woman and smile.

“Hello, do you like that necklace?” you greet.

She blinks in confusion and sighs.

“Yes, I do” she says in a voice as sweet as honey. “It’s just…expensive, is all. I’ll look for another one.”

From the pocket of your pants you pull out several dollar bills and hand them to her. She is frozen looking at the numbers. It’s enough to buy at least five necklaces here.

“Not anymore…”

“Why are you doing this?” she asks.

“Let’s say…I have more than enough. Least I can do.” You answer.

Walking back, you see Paul’s eyes grow wide and then he smiles. He wraps a hand around yours as you walk out. Glancing back, you can see the girl is slack jawed. Then she went and bought the becklace with a smile as big as her face.

As soon as he got home, with only a few packages of things, Paul flung himself on the bed.

“Ooof! I’m bloody exhausted!”

You lean over, smiling. His face has gotten a little red from the sun. Your hands creep over to his shoulders.

“Let me massage you sweetheart…I don’t want my… my husband to be in pain,” you insisted.

Paul grinned larger at the use of the word.

For the rest of the night, you went over piles of photographs Paul managed to take. His love of the camera made him keep it as close as if it was his baby. You both managed to find local places and take pictures. The cheesiest pictures one could manage. Smiling faces, wide arms, and mountains and beaches and buildings too beautiful to be real.

“I’d like to keep a few…” you say.

Paul looks up at you.

“Is that…is that possible, Y/N? They look through your things, y’know…” he warned.

You shrugged, looking at one picture you took of Paul smiling, squinting into the sunlight with a castle from long ago far behind him, poking out of the green hill. Then another one where you managed to travel out and visit another real palace with elaborate floors outside and pigeons flying by.

“I can manage. I have…have places in my home only I can enter. Royalty, y’know…”

Looking back, only your closest friends were in on this. Friends you knew would not tattle. Friends who could influence any nosy servants.

He leaned over on the bed, in a white shirt and long pajama pants. Placing a hand, he traced a strand of hair.

“You might be their duchess, but you’re me girl. Always.”

The next morning, both of you were napping, naked, and smiling in post-coital bliss. Unaware that it was already noon. And there was a newspaper with your brunch.

As you groaned, opening your eyes, you heard Paul nearly spit out his tea from the tray.

“Oof, too hot for you?” you teased.

He looked at you and turned the page.

There was a small, minor article. It shouldn’t have caused much attention. But it was about your parents. It mentioned them addressing rumors that you were running away with another man and may have been spotted in Spain- or someone who looked like you. They couldn’t tell who the man was, but it was not your betrothed.

“Oh shit.”

You toss the paper onto the sheets, looking at Paul with his face, white as the sheets.

“We’ll…we’ll just have to be careful…” you suggest. Leaning forward, you cup his face and he nods.

You both had to be too careful. You went to beach. The sun was bright and you tasted the salt in the wind, but you had to look around you. Everytime there was a stranger, you felt their eyes on you. Both of you picked a time when there would be less people, but it felt there were now invisible cameras somewhere.

Both of you waded in the water and laid around in a towel underneath an umbrella for shade. But even in the most relaxing moments, you couldn’t help but worry if eyes were staring. Paul opened a picnic basket and handed you a bowl of strawberries, but you wondered if even a nice snack would somehow make it’s way to tabloids.

The next few days, you were more careful. Going to less crowded places. On your penultimate day, you ignored the paper. Paul was still asleep. You glanced for any news. Once you saw a photo of your parents worried faces. “We are concerned for our daughter…”

You tossed it into the trash bin. You would deal with it later. You wanted to enjoy each minute while you had it.

You kept trying to sneak into sites with less people, odder hours. If not, you were at each other like rabbits in your hotel room. Savoring intimacy and feeling one while you still could, or lazing about in your pajamas-ordering food and watching the sea. Talking about everything and nothing.

Paul opened his eyes, lashes fluttering. You couldn’t’ help but smile at him. His lashes were long, curved naturally without any mascara. How could one man be so beautiful?

“What…what is it?”

“Nothing hubby…” you said quietly, kissing his forehead. “Let’s just…let’s just enjoy the day.”

Spain had the loveliest sunsets. You watched from your hotel and then walked at night. The stars were out and the ocean was calming. Both of you felt a breeze. Paul handed you his jacket. Even in the dark, you could make out quiet sniffling. Clutching his hand, you turned to the ocean to look up at it’s infinity underneath a night sky. You never let his hand go the rest of that night. You wanted this pretense to last long as it could until you could no more, when the plane landed and you were back home at the palace with photos of Spain snuck into the bottom of your suitcases. 

 Besides, there was a wedding next week. 

Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen​ @queenlover05​

[multific]

Honeymoon

Chris Evans x Reader

Requested by:  gjessica98 

Request: Y/N and Chris just got married a few hours ago. And they’re going on their private jet to their honeymoon destination to Dubai. Y/N wants to spend time with him. But Chris is always on the phone 📱 talking to his management crew for his new movie or something like. It makes Y/N mad and they fight. (They used to fight before but this is worst fight they never had) which almost makes Y/N return home but Chris stopped her. And ends with a fluff. 😄

 Your wedding.

The most beautiful and happiest day of your life.

Chris was as handsome as ever in his suit. And the fact that you made him tear up, was the cherry on top. You felt gorgeous, and you made sure you really were. The dress was everything you dreamt about, thanks to your parents. The whole wedding was just as you always wanted it to be. From top to bottom everything was as you wanted and imagined it would be.

Chris and you couldn’t stop smiling through the whole thing. Your faces hurt.

But things slowly started to change. As after the wedding was over, all of your guests left and you said all your goodbyes, you went on a private jet to your honeymoon.

On the plane Chris was on his phone all the time, texting and calling his management. To be honest it really didn’t bother you that much. So, you decided to watch a movie and fell asleep halfway through. You knew he will put the phone down and be with you when it really mattered.

But you were wrong.

Even after landing in Dubai and getting to your hotel room the calls and texts never stopped.

You figured you’d let the first night go and give Chris time to finish his work. Meanwhile, you had an amazing bath and enjoyed the breath-taking view the hotel had. While you were in the bath Chris joined you and you were delighted. You had a heated night that lasted until the early mornings.

The next day you planned sightseeing and eating in a nice restaurant. But as you were walking in the gorgeous city but the constant ringing of your husband's phone started to really annoy you and the fact that he always picked it up, further annoyed you. One time you were ready to take the perfect selfie when his phone rang. Without any hesitation, he picked up the phone. That made you sad.

You knew Chris loved his job and was really important to him, but you hoped your honeymoon would be just as if not more important for him. He had his moments when he truly showed you just how much he cared at the beginning of your week at the honeymoon, but on the third day, Chris completely jumped into work. When you woke up that morning, he was on his laptop and phone, working. You thought you’ll be patient and hoped he would stop.

But even after breakfast, he continued with his calls and emails. He stopped paying attention to you and concentrated on his work.

“Chris, can we go to the pool please?” you asked him, desperate to spend time with him outside the hotel room.

“One moment, Y/N. I need to finish this.”

“Okay, well I’ll go anyway.” you assumed he didn’t even hear that part. Chris knew you brought a rather sexy bikini to go to the pool to and he even warned you wearing it when he wasn’t around or with you.

This was your plan and probably best shot to get him off his work.

You put the beautiful bikini on and grabbed a towel with a bag of your essentials and headed out.

“I’ll be down if you are looking for me. I highly doubt it though.” you said as you closed the door behind you and grabbed the key card.

Your hotel room had the perfect view at the pool, so if Chris would looking for you, all he will have to do is check outside. You even sat down at a place where you are at perfect view.

You decided to order a nice cocktail and get a tan for yourself.

You were down for like two hours when the pool chair beside yours moved as someone sat down. You thought it might be Chris but as you looked over, a gorgeous ginger man sat beside you. He was quite muscular and had a handsome face.

“Hi.” and he was Australian. His accent was thick and quite sexy.

“Hello.”

“Such a pretty lady, alone?”

“Well, my dear husband decided that his work is more important than our honeymoon.”

“Oh. Such a shame, truly. Well, at least I’m here to entertain a pretty lady like yourself.”

“What makes you think I need to be entertained?”

“Easy, you are often gazing at that particular window, so I assume that is your room where your husband must be. You have quite a nice tan, so you must have spent some time here and the fact that you look bored out of your mind proves my point, Miss…?”

“Clever. My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Lovely name, my name is Andrew. Let me get you another cocktail.”

Andrew and you had been chatting for some time now. Sure he made some flirtatious jokes, Andrew never once made a move. As it turned out he was in Dubai for business. You had a really great time with him, you almost forgot about Chris, almost.

As it got dark you headed up to the room.

You found Chris still in front of his laptop.

“I’m back.” you said but he didn’t respond. You took a bath to get rid of the pool water dried on your skin.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and noticed just how amazing your skin looked. After you came out Chris was still working.

“How did you enjoy yourself down there?” he asked obviously bitter.

“Huh?”

“Don’t “huh” me! I saw you and your little boyfriend! Very nice man, talking to someone else’s wife like it’s nothing! And you were giggling like a little school girl.”

“No, Chris! You don’t get to do that! You are the one who has been ignoring me all day! You are the one who has been taking calls instead of spending time with me! You are the one who hasn’t been behaving like a husband! I gave you time, I really did, but you said that on the honeymoon you won’t take any calls or nothing!” you got angrier and angrier, but you didn’t want to disturb the other guests so you kept your voice low. But your disappointment was still visible and you were on the brick of crying. Chris was accusing you left and right yet he didn’t even pay attention to you.

“This was a mistake!”

“What? Not spending time with me?”

“No, marrying you.” Chris said as he sat on the bed, looking at you with a disappointed look in his eyes. “You are unfaithful on the first week… this is not what I expected from you, Y/N.”

“Unfaithful? Me, unfaithful?” your head was spinning as you couldn’t believe his words. “Fuck you, Evans. Really, Fuck. You. How dare you say this? I tried to take you to places, get you off your damn phone, yet all you do is text and call. We could have had our honeymoon at a different time, yet you wanted to come as soon as the wedding was over. So, I don’t understand why are you acting like this? You ignored me all day and all of our other days were pretty bad too. It’s obvious you care about your work more than me.” Chris didn’t say a thing as you packed your suitcase. You only packed the essentials and headed down. You knew it will be rather difficult to get to the airport and home at a time like this, but you needed to get away from Chris as soon as possible.

You made it to the airport rather quickly but since the ticket windows were closed, you couldn’t buy a ticket home, so you settled down at a bench.

As the adrenaline left your system you realized what just happened. Chris thought you were unfaithful and prioritized his work over his own wife when he told you he’d not take a single call.

You were scared. Although beside a few guards around the airport, you were alone, the fact that your marriage might have lasted for a shorter time than a week scared you more than a potential burglar. Somehow you managed not to cry although your chest hurt a lot.

Hours went by like that.

“Y/N?” you heard his voice, at first you looked at him but as a second later you decided to give him the cold shoulder and ignore him like how he did for the last three days.

“Honey, I’m really sorry, please come back to the hotel with me. I behaved like a real dick. I got jealous when I saw you with that man, and took my anger out on you when I should have paid more attention to you. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I promise I won’t do it anymore. I will turn my phone off and be with you, please I love you.”

Tears escaped your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness, rather from frustration.

“Wasn’t so hard now was it?” you asked as you stood up and hugged him.

It took a bit of time to get back to the hotel. And once you were in front of your hotel door, the heated make-out session and the even more heated night started.

You were very happy that Chris actually kept his word and turned off all his devices. You finally could take selfies with him. You had lunch at a wonderful restaurant.

“Honey, I must tell you this. I made our stay here longer. I figured since I was an idiot and wasted three days, we will stay for another week and do whatever you want!” he said during lunch. You couldn’t believe him.

“For real?”

“Yes!” his smile brightened your day further.

Chris really is the best husband one can wish for.

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[wherewindysurgeswend]

deep heart’s core: chapter nine

chapter 1

chapter 2  

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed):  @rememberedkisses @veiliza​

It was raining by the time the train pulled into the station in London. Anna laughed a little to herself. She had been told it rained a lot in England, but she hadn’t it expected it to be raining when she arrived. Smiling weakly at Mr. Welch, she picked up her suitcase, put on her hat, and stepped off the train. She scanned the crowd, looking for a sign with her name: her boss had said he was sending a car for her. The station was filled with people holding hand-lettered signs bearing the names of the people they were there to pick up, but as far as she could tell, none of them read “Anna Byrne.” She wondered if they hadn’t gotten her birth name instead, but there was no “Rachel Byrne” either. 

There was, however, a woman in a tweed suit holding a sign that read “Anne Burke.” With a sigh, Anna walked up to the woman. “Are you from the Montreal Daily News?” she asked. The woman nodded. “Are you Miss Burke?” she asked sharply. 

“Yes. Well, no. I’m Anna Byrne, but I think you’ve got my name wrong.” The woman shook her head. “No, I’m here for Miss Anne Burke. If you aren’t her, you’d best move on.”

“No, you see, there is no Anne Burke. I’m Anna Byrne, and I’m the reporter covering the Thornbury case. Isn’t that who you’re here to pick up?” The woman looked exasperated.

“I don’t know what Anne Burke does, I only know I’m here to pick her up.” Anna sighed. Arguing with this woman was like arguing with a brick wall. At this point it would be easier to just take a taxi. She apologized to the woman and headed for the exit. 

Stepping off the train in Paris, Kathleen smiled to herself as she saw her parents exchange a tender glance. She had heard the story dozens of times, about how they had spent their honeymoon in France – a belated honeymoon, a few years after their marriage, because Europe had been war-torn when they had met in the autumn of 1915, and just as bad when they married a year later. Joseph and Florence had spent most of April, 1921 in Paris, leaving four-year-old Kathleen with her grandmother. Kathleen couldn’t really remember, of course, but she had been told that the trip was only supposed to last three weeks, but the boat had been delayed and they had had to stay for four. It was one of those stories that the Lynches liked to bring up at dinner parties, along with the time Kathleen had been sent home from school for arguing with her English teacher and the time Mary had tried to run away from home at age six.  

The Lynches walked into the hotel lobby and Joseph headed for the check-in desk. Florence was close behind him, but Kathleen stayed behind to keep an eye on the younger children. Paul and Mary seemed to be having some kind of argument. James was staring at the chandelier in the hotel lobby as if in a trance. No wonder, Kathleen realized. He had never seen anything quite like it. Pulling her brother by the hand to get him out of the other guests’ way, she took him back to where their other siblings were. 

The first few days of the Lynches’ vacation were fairly uneventful. They visited some tourist attractions, ate at some sidewalk cafés, and slept in hotel beds that were just a little too firm. But on the day, Kathleen arrived in the hotel lobby and was told that someone had called the hotel for her and requested that she call back as soon as possible. 

Almost immediately after the number had been dialed, Kathleen heard a panicked Margaret Kittredge on the other end of the line, speaking far too quickly for Kathleen to understand her. After being asked repeatedly to slow down, Margaret was finally able to explain what the fuss was: “Grandmother’s here.” 

After a pause that was far too long for Kathleen’s taste, Margaret asked, “How quickly can you get over here?” Kathleen looked at her watch. 

“Half an hour if I walk. I’d take a cab or the metro but I don’t have any French cash.”

“I’ll pay for the cab. I’ll be waiting for you outside the hotel. And be sure to dress nicely. Grandmother can be quite… judgemental.”

When Kathleen’s cab pulled up in front of the hotel, Margaret was standing outside, looking more nervous than Kathleen had ever seen her. She was pacing back and forth and kept reaching up to run her finger through her hair, realizing that she couldn’t do that without ruining her perfect finger waves, and lowering her hand again. Kathleen watched her run up to another cab and attempt to pay the driver before realizing that the passenger was a stranger. She suspected Margaret had done this multiple times before, so she stuck her head out the window and called out to her. 

In the elevator on the way to Mrs. Kittredge’s room, Margaret and Larry, who had been waiting inside the lobby, smoking cigarette after cigarette to calm his nerves, tried to give Kathleen as much advice as they possibly could on what to say to their grandmother. “Make sure your handshake is firm,” said Larry.

“But not too firm,” Margaret added, “or she’ll say you aren’t ladylike.”

“Be respectful.”

“But don’t be weak.” “Smile.”

“But don’t grin.”

“Look her in the eye.”

“But don’t stare.”

“Be serious.”

“But don’t be sullen.”

“Be –” but Kathleen never found out what Larry was going to tell her, because the elevator doors opened.

Margaret Sterling Kittredge was nothing if not impressive. At age seventy-five, she still had perfect eyesight and wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing glasses. Her spine was still straight as an arrow. Like her sons and grandchildren, she was on the tall side, and rather thin. She had the Kittredge eyes, but they weren’t dreamy like Margaret’s, mirthful like Larry’s or frank like Margaret’s father’s. They were cold and steely and her gaze was sharp and level. Her silver hair was arranged in a pompadour – the style had gone out of fashion some thirty years ago, but Mrs. Kittredge wore it with such dignity that it didn’t matter. She wore a dark red velvet gown and an impressive diamond brooch and, seated on a chintz armchair with her hands folded in her lap and her legs daintily crossed at the ankle, she looked to Kathleen like a queen surveying her kingdom. 

“So,” said Mrs. Kittredge, “this is the Lynch girl.” It wasn’t a question; it was a declaration. Kathleen felt certain that even if she hadn’t been the Lynch girl, she still would have agreed with Mrs. Kittredge, because contradicting her was out of the question. “Come here,” said Mrs. Kittredge imperiously. Kathleen obeyed. “What was your first name, again?” she asked, not unkindly but not exactly kindly, either. “Kathleen.”

“Now, Kathleen, you understand why it is of utmost importance that you be discreet about this whole… situation.” Kathleen nodded.

“Of course. I had no intention of spreading this around, Mrs. Kittredge. You can count on my discretion.” 

“I’m sure I can. But you understand why I had to come here anyway, don’t you? We can’t have it known that my late son had an illegitimate child – a child born during his marriage to my daughter-in-law, no less.” Kathleen hesitated.

“What – what would the consequences be?”

“Oh, you know. The Kittredges are an old family, Kathleen. Our social standing is precarious, but if we lose it, we lose everything. So it falls to me to make sure we don’t lose it.” 

“Mrs. Kittredge, there’s something I have to tell you.” Mrs. Kittredge stared at Kathleen.

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.” Kathleen glanced at Larry and Margaret, both of whom seemed to have guessed what she was about to say. Larry looked incredulous but not necessarily unhappy, but if looks could kill, the one Margaret was giving Kathleen could have decimated an army. Nevertheless, Kathleen didn’t back down. “Mrs Kittredge, I’m not your granddaughter. It was all a prank that Larry helped me pull on your son. I hope you’ll accept my apology, because I truly didn’t intend for it to get this out of control. But your son wired you before we could tell him it wasn’t true and, well, here we are. And I hope you won’t blame Larry, because it was all my idea.” 

The silence that followed probably lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like hours. Finally, Mrs. Kittredge opened her mouth, and Kathleen steeled herself for what she assumed would be a lecture. But instead, Mrs. Kittredge did the unexpected: she laughed. Margaret was the first to speak. “Grandmother,” she said incredulously, “do you really think this is funny? You came all the way across the Atlantic for nothing!” 

“Peggy, when you get to be as old as I am, you’ll understand the value of a good joke. And besides, Montreal is unbelievably dull these days. Nothing to do but attend parties held by women I’ve never liked. I might as well be in Paris.”

“But… you hate jokes. I’ve never seen you laugh in my life.”

“There’s always a first time.” she turned to Kathleen. 

“I like you,” she said decisively. Kathleen stared at her. After a pause, Mrs. Kittredge continued.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. It’s not many girls who would go along with something like this to help their friends. You’ll go far, Kathleen Lynch.”

After the required pleasantries, Kathleen started to leave the hotel room, but Mrs. Kittredge called her back. “Would you do an old woman a favour?” she asked. Kathleen was startled by the request. “Of course,” she replied.

“Would you come to dinner with us tonight? I’m afraid my relatives are dreadfully dull at times. I could use the company.” Kathleen, not knowing what else to do, accepted the invitation and headed back to her hotel.

[justredandgreen]

Wedding

* They had a relatively small guest list. Red would have been happy to just go to the courthouse and mail out announcements to their friends and relatives after the fact, but Green wanted to include them.  * As far as weddings go, it wasn’t that expensive. Red wasn’t too keen on paying for it, but he wanted Green to be happy. And in return, Green did what he could to keep the costs reasonable. They pooled together their own funds, plus a little help from Red’s parents and Green’s grandfather. Red’s father actually showed up for the wedding.  * They wore suits instead of tuxes. (After all, Red isn’t much one for getting dressed up, and frankly, neither is Green.) And they had ties, pocket squares, and waistcoats to match their namesakes. Red wore a green boutonniere, and Green wore a red one.  * Not long after getting engaged, Green sent a letter to his younger brother, Gary, asking him to be the best man. “Huh? Green didn’t tell me he was seeing anyone, much less getting married! I wonder who the lucky girl is?” A telephone conversation cleared up that question. “Red...The same Red who stole Gramps’ affections from you, killed your Raticate,  took your championship, and then ditched you to go live on some Arceus-forsaken mountain?” “The very same!” “Oh...well...good for you! So, have you picked a date yet?” * Red, likewise, asked his younger brother Ash to be his best man. Other members of the wedding party included Leaf, Daisy, Yellow, and Fire. (Red’s other younger brother.) Professor Oak married them.  * They walked up to the altar together.  * They had, instead of a traditional cake, a cupcake tower, with a small normal cake on top for the cake cutting. The cakes were frosted red and green, some chocolate and some vanilla, with strawberry filling. They had some cupcakes leftover, which they implored their guests to take home. They kept the top cake for themselves, to enjoy on their honeymoon. On their first anniversary, they had another small cake just like it made, from the same bakery. (They say it’s good luck to eat the top part of your wedding cake on your first anniversary...but what they don’t tell you is that cakes do decline in quality after a few months, even in the freezer. “Life is too short to eat garbage cake because of some silly old superstition,” explained Green.) * They had, instead of a “head table” for the wedding party, a “sweetheart table” for themselves, and their wedding party distributed around the other tables. It made things easier on both of them, but especially Red. They did pictures before the ceremony, so they could thank everyone for coming during the cocktail hour and have a more relaxed reception.   * They had two signature cocktails: a green apple martini and a strawberry mojito. * Red didn’t want a real bachelor party. (He wasn’t too keen on the idea of Green having one, either. After all, Red is kinda low-key the jealous type.) He and his friends and brothers just stayed in and watched bad TV over pizza. Meanwhile, Gary “kidnapped” Green for a weekend in Neontown he’d never forget because he didn’t remember it in the first place. They did have some rules, though: no winding up in jail, the ER, or the morgue, get it over with a week before the wedding (so no one is hungover on the big day), and no hooking up with anyone else. Gold helped to keep Red from “checking in” on Green, or obsessing about what he might have been up to.  * Red’s mom helped them bring all the gifts they got to their home. And she watered the plants and brought in the mail while they were in Alola. * They spent their wedding night on a plane, mostly sleeping. But they more than made up for it when they got to their hotel! 

[sunsetinmyvein]

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Four - I Know You Think You’re Sly

Over the next few weeks the two of them talked pretty regularly. Different time zones made it more difficult, but Matty’s regular (or rather, irregular) sleep schedule sort of made up for that. He was beginning to notice that over time she was becoming a pretty integral part of his social system. It took him a while, but he was realising that the days that he was most snappy and rude at those around him were the days that they hadn’t spoken. He had a bad habit for forming crutches on things around him that offered some form of relief. But he figured a social crutch was considerably healthier than an opioid one, so he let it be. The band were also quickly noticing this, probably faster than Matty himself did. Though their reason for believing he was fast becoming socially dependent on this girl was the fact that he just did. not. shut. up. about her. George was at least happy to see his best friend in such a good mood, but he really wished that Matty would get over this weird honeymoon phase he was in where everything was still new and shiny and he had to tell everyone about it. Especially when they were always in each other’s space, Ross and Adam heard considerably less of it than he had to.

It had been nearly a month since she’d last seen Matty when the man himself was suddenly flashing up on her phone screen. She put down the mouthful of food that she had been about to eat as she held the phone up to her ear. “What’re you doing this weekend?” He asked without even saying hello.

“Hi, Matty. How’s things? That’s good. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.” She started rattling off sarcastically.

“Are you free or not?” He asked again.

“I dunno, I’m probably seeing family or something?” She heard him hum thoughtfully on the other end of the line. “Why?”

“Wanna meet me halfway?” He questioned. She expected him to elaborate on that, but he didn’t continue.

“Halfway to where?” She asked eventually.

“To a gig.” He said like it was the most obvious answer he could ever give. “I was bored and looking up flights for where we are gonna be on tour this weekend. It’s equal distance from me as it is from you.” He explained.

  “I… what?” She gave a disbelieving laugh. “Matty, I can’t just get on a plane and go away for the weekend.”

“Why not?” He asked.

“Well, I can’t afford it for a start.” She pointed out with a huff.

“I never said that you had to pay for it. That would be pretty rude of me to ask you to come out and make you pay for it yourself.” 

“Then I definitely can’t say yes, I can’t let you pay for that.” She said with a frown. That felt like she was just taking advantage of his situation.

He laughed loudly. “You know that I earn significantly more than you, yes?” He had a pretty valid point there.

  There was a long pause on the line as she considered all of the possibilities of this. “Just come hang out. You can leave Friday and be back by Monday.” He pressed, trying his best to twist her arm.

She contemplated the offer. Anything that she had planned this weekend she could easily cancel, and a weekend away did sound pretty fun. Also, as much as she’d never tell him, she was definitely eager to see Matty again. “I’m not just coming out to stand around while you get interviewed again, right?” She asked hesitantly.

“We have a gig on the Friday and Saturday, then some after party thing on the Friday night and a photoshoot on one of the days, I think.” He listed off, trying to rack his brain for the details that were in the schedule his manager had sent him last week.

“You’re sure?” She asked again.

“Definitely no interviews.” He laughed. “You should be able to come along to all of that.”

“Okay.” She finally agreed.

“Great!” She could practically hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll send you some stuff soon.” And just like that, the line was dead. Turned out his grin was infectious even through a phone line where she couldn’t actually see it.

  As promised, Matty quickly sent through a heap of details about flights and where she had to go, and it was only a few days before she found herself spending her afternoon waiting in a hotel lobby for him. Again. This time in a different country though, she supposed. She really did do a lot of waiting for him. The familiar British accent echoed through the lobby, but she wasn’t quite able to match it to the direction it was coming from. Which suited Matty just fine as it allowed him the chance to run up behind her and capture her in a tight hug before she noticed him approaching. He let out a loud laugh, one of the ones that was emphatic enough that it made his eyes crinkle, as he picked her up, forcing a breathless laugh out of her as well. It felt nice to be his company again. Phone calls only conveyed so much of the overflowing personality that was Matty. He reluctantly placed her back on the ground.

“Miss me?” He asked with a cocky grin as she turned to face him.

“You wish.” She scoffed, but she couldn’t help but return his grin. “It’s good to see you.” She admitted after a beat.

“You too, love.” He beamed. “We’ll have to make sure it’s not so long next time.” He added with a wink. “But I should finally introduce you to the rest of the band! As much as I like to claim I’m the best musician in the world, I wouldn’t be shit without my team by my side.” His enthusiasm to introduce her to his friends mimicked that of a kid on Christmas. He was practically bursting out of his skin as he dragged her over to the group of three guys still standing by the elevators.

  She had only met the boys in passing the night of the concert when she had met Matty, but they hadn’t exactly exchanged words. Or gestures. Or glances. So really, she probably couldn’t say she had met them but more so stood within the presence of them. He had talked them up to no end while they had been speaking over the last while, and they seemed like pretty cool guys. She just really hoped that they weren’t going to be annoyed at her for crashing their plans.

“These are the lads.” Matty started proudly. “George,” A guy with light brown, curly hair flashed her a friendly smile. “Ross,” The one with darker hair and a bit of a beard waved slightly. “and Adam” The last one sitting on the couch with the short blonde hair also gave her a wave. “And guys this is-”

“Yes, we are already well aware who you are.” George cut him off as he walked over. His friendly smile seemed to betray the tired tone in his voice, but he pulled her into a tight hug regardless. “Lovely to meet you. Maybe Matty will finally stop talking about you now that you’re actually here to talk to.” He said with a soft laugh as he moved back, giving a pointed look in his friend’s direction.

“Ah, fuckin’ lay off it, George.” Matty sniggered as he shoved his friend in the shoulder. She let out an anxious laugh, trying not to dwell too much on what George had said. The five of them stood around for a moment, none of them entirely sure what the next thing to say was.

“So, uh,” She cleared her throat, “What’s on the agenda for The 1975 today?” She asked.

“We’re actually just on our way to soundcheck for the show tonight. The set time is earlier today so that we can make it to that party later.” Ross piped up, motioning towards the doors of the hotel.

“Yes, we’d better get going.” Adam added as they made their way out.

  The venue was pretty close to their hotel, which was probably an intentional part of why they booked that hotel. They arrived without much fanfare, coming in through the back entrance to the venue without issue and making their way to the stage. Their setup seemed to be almost complete; the lighting rigs were already constructed, mics and instruments were already laid out in correct spots. The four boys walked around to the side of the stage while she decided to look on from the barrier. She watched eagerly as they wandered over to their respective positions, fine tuning instruments that had mostly already been set up for them. It was clearly such a frequent routine for them to go through this process. George altered the heights of a few of his drums, Adam was verifying that his guitar was in the tuning he had asked. Matty meanwhile just smiled down at her from the microphone. “Have you got any requests?” He asked with an eyebrow raised as he leaned forward over his mic. She just offered a shrug in return. “Aw, c’mon! You must have one?” He pressed.

“I have one.” George piped up from behind his kit. Matty threw him a curious look over his shoulder. “Depth.”

Matty frowned across the stage as he turned fully to look at his friend, “But there’s no vocals in that.” He argued.

“Exactly.” He laughed. Ross let out a snigger as he tuned up his bass, Adam was trying his best not to crack a smile.

“We can’t play that one, there’s no point in me being here if we play that one.” Matty said as he waved his hand dismissively at the band. “I wanna hear Sex.” He continued.

“More like you wanna have sex.” Adam mumbled quietly.

“What was that, Hann?”

“Nothing.”

“Fine, let’s play it.” The drummer said before Matty’s brain could catch up and process what Adam had said. A grin spread across Matty’s face as he raced off to get his guitar.

  He quickly made sure that it was in decent enough tune and fastened his capo onto the neck before starting to play the opening riff. She had been yet to witness him playing guitar properly. He had played a little bit during the encore of the show that she was able to catch, but she felt it was going to be different seeing it like this. And, it might have been, if it wasn’t this song that Matty was playing. Because Matty had a very simple job during this song: to play exactly one chord and strum for the whole thing. She frowned at this realisation when his hands never moved along the frets, but nonetheless hadn’t noticed that she had been zoning out watching him play. Her attention was finally brought back to the actual song. “She said use your hands and my spare time. We got one thing in common, it’s this tongue of mine.” As she looked back up at him, he flashed her a wink, obviously having caught her watching him. She decided to look at one of the other members of the band to try and cover up the way she could feel her cheeks warming up. In hindsight, she probably should’ve known better than to stand in front of Matty for this song.

  She walked down slightly to Ross’s side of the stage, and he flashed her a smile as he saw her stop in front of him. Where Matty was constant high energy, and dancing, and just being an overall twat on stage, Ross was considerably more collected. He mostly just bopped along and tapped his foot, paying the most attention to his bass than anything else. She glanced down at Adam along the stage, and he more or less played the same as Ross, he just leaned into it a bit more. It was a considerably closer style to the bands that she had seen play in the past, rather than… whatever it was that Matty did while on stage. His eyes were already intently watching her as she glanced back over to him. “Does he take care of you? I could easily fill his shoes,” A part of her felt like that wasn’t quite how that lyric normally went, but she hadn’t really listened to the song enough times to know for sure. She’d heard the line in passing before, but hearing him sing it now had a different vibe to it. Especially coupled with the smirk sitting on his face. Previously she hadn’t taken notice of the way that he just had such a level of confidence and assurance in how he sung it. She wanted to laugh at how cocky it made him sound, but also found herself believing it probably came from some section of truth. “But you say no.” She walked back over to where Matty was now paying full attention to his guitar around his neck as he played out the bridge. Glancing behind him briefly at George, he just grinned broadly at her. It was too hard to see how he was playing from the floor, but he seemed to be having fun. She found that she had a better appreciation for the band now than what she had the last time she saw them play. “If we’re gonna do anythin’, we might as well just fuck. She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.” He sung, shrugging for what she assumed was emphasis on the lyrics. They finished the song with no issues, and instantly Ross and Adam started rattling a few things off to the people on either of their sides of the stage about their audio. Matty took the guitar off from around his shoulders and was clearly about to throw out a witty remark, but was quickly cut off before he could.

“You happy with your levels, Matty?” George shouted at him before he could get too distracted.

“Oh, erm, yeah.” He answered, pulling himself back into soundcheck reality. “Maybe turn the guitar down a bit, though.” He added.

  He walked over and sat down on the edge of the stage, motioning for her to join him. “You play only one chord for that entire song.” She pointed out as she jumped over the barrier and sat next to him.

“Yeah?” He said with a frown, unsure why it was a point of interest.

“That’s hardly impressive guitar playing skills, I thought that’s what you were wanting to show off with that song. But obviously not.” She said with a chuckle.

“Pfft.” He let out a loud laugh. “I can do more impressive things than play guitar.” He added as he looked down at her.

“Do I even wanna know where you’re going with that?” She groaned.

“For once, it’s not a dirty joke.” He replied.

“Oh?” She questioned with her eyebrows raised, looking at him expectantly. That had to be a first. He took in a deep breath, and in about seven seconds flat, he rattled off the alphabet backwards. There were a few moments of silence between them as she tried to process this new information. “I admit, that was fairly impressive.” She finally said.

“Told you.” He said with a triumphant grin. “Anyway, c’mon. We have some other shit to sort out before the show.” He said as he stood up, holding his hand out to help her up as well.

  The band spent about an hour making sure that they were happy with soundcheck and the lighting for the gig. But after that they pretty much spent the rest of the evening hanging out in the fairly under-furnished dressing room trying to kill time until they were set to go on. George had apparently come prepared for this and pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket as they waited. She had expected hanging out with the four of them to be awkward, for her to have felt like the… fifth? wheel in this social setting. But they welcomed her in with open arms and treated her like they seemed to treat each other. It was a pleasant surprise to say the least, and the more she spoke with them the more she realised why Matty had picked these three men to spend the better part of his life with. As the show got closer a quiet fell over the four of them. The cards were packed away, a setlist was verified, crew were suddenly running around doing their final checks. The band paced back and forth a bit as they checked and double-checked instruments and ran over the new additions to the setlist, quietly mumbling things as they passed her. She just sat on a box backstage and watched with interest. It was a very different demeanour to the one that they’d all held an hour ago as they loudly joked and swore at each other. But she soon discovered that this was just the calm before the storm, and as soon as they were called to go on the first bolt of lightning struck. They shared a collective look as they walked out and Matty threw a smile her way over his shoulder as he left.

  As soon as they stepped on stage the energy in the room shifted, and everyone got a little bit closer to the age that they were going to lose their hearing as Matty stepped up to his mic and the crowd lost their collective mind. Seeing the show from the very beginning was a far superior experience to only catching the end of it like last time. Each song had its own atmosphere and setting, largely affected by the segue backing ambience and the lighting. It was obvious that a good deal of love and care had been put into this being more than just a concert. She imagined that watching it from the back of the arena where she could get the most out of Adam’s visuals would be a sight to behold. Maybe she could do that during the show tomorrow. If she would be willing to give up the better view of Matty’s performance that she had here. His dorky dance moves consistently got a laugh out of her, and once he’d realised that, they only seemed to be more frequent. He knew how to get a reaction out of people, that much was clear.

  The show was going well. Every song had gone off without a hitch, the audience were responding well as per usual, Matty was having a grand old time. But he was also well aware of the audience that was watching him from the other side of the stage. This was the first show she had seen in its entirety. He wanted to make sure it was the most The 1975-y show he could make it. But he was fast running out of ideas that weren’t already in the show to begin with. The themes of jealousy were still running through the back of his mind after their soundcheck of Sex earlier. The more he thought about it, the more an idea formed in his brain. Y/N/N had reacted well to the song, but how would she react to a situation that might cause proper jealousy? Would she actually get jealous?  He’d kissed fans at shows before, and they were the shows that got talked about the most. Did that count as a 1975-y show? He was curious to find out, and he wasn’t the sort of person to deny himself the answer to his curiosity once it had instilled itself in him.

  It was during Robbers that he decided to put his idea into action. His eyes scanned the crowd for a girl that he could use for his plan. Once he’d found one, he just had to wait for the right moment. He made sure that she was watching him from her spot side stage before he jumped down into the space between the stage and the pit. Straight away his band mates and security were trained on him, watching him with apprehension. George rolled his eyes from his drumkit, already knowing exactly what Matty was set on doing. He quickly avoided the hands that reached out to grab him, making his way over to the girl. He placed a hand on the girl’s cheek, singing the last line before pulling her in for a kiss. As soon as he did it all that he could hear in his ears was the ringing from how many screams echoed around him. She froze almost instantly in shock at the situation. The thought crossed his mind to attempt to deepen the kiss, but he got the feeling that this girl wasn’t about to kiss him back any time soon so there was probably no point. He let it linger for a moment before laughing and moving back. She looked absolutely shell-shocked. He shouted a quick ‘thanks’ at her over his shoulder as he hopped back onto the stage. As soon as he was standing up next to his mic, he was met with George shaking his head at him.

“You’re too old to be doing that shit, Matthew.” His voice echoed through his earpiece. He glanced across the stage to where he knew she was standing, expecting maybe a look of surprise or anger or something. But her expression just seemed… disinterested? That didn’t seem right. He’d have to wait until the Greta speech played before he could go talk to her.

  He played through the remaining few songs before the encore almost on autopilot, too focused on her reaction, or lack thereof, to really focus properly. When he finally finished I Always Wanna Die, he raced off stage, pretending he needed a bottle of water as his excuse.

“Any thoughts on the show?” He asked casually as he stepped over to where she was, taking a swig from the water bottle.

“Why do you do shit like that?” She asked, trying her best to hide the sour expression that was wanting to show itself.

“Like what?” He asked innocently as he put the bottle down and quickly wiped a towel down his face.

She nodded in the direction of the fan he had kissed a few minutes ago. “That. Make out with fans during the show.” She elaborated.

“Are you jealous?” He asked with a shit eating grin.

“Hardly.” She scoffed. As much as jealousy did definitely sit at the pit of her stomach, she was more so just unpleasantly surprised to see that he’d do something like that in the position he was in, in front of so many people. “Makes it a lot less desirable if you just put it on show like that.” His face fell at her remark. Wait. That wasn’t-

  “Well, I don’t properly mean it.” He tried to explain, suddenly having to backpedal a lot from how he expected this conversation to go, “I do it because they want me to, and it’s fun, I guess. Adds to the experience of the show.” He added with a shrug.

“But then you have to deal with all the shit that comes after that. I have no doubt that she’s already posted about it online somewhere or other.” She pointed out with a serious look. He agreed. He would be willing to bet money that she probably had. Or someone else had on her behalf. It was definitely out there by now.

“Good. Publicity for us.” He said with a light-hearted laugh, trying to at least kind of recover from where this conversation had ended up.

“Just seems like a hell of a lot more effort than it’s worth. It can’t be easy having thousands of girls out there judging you for it. And it must detract from the times you actually do mean it.” Her last comment instantly threw him off. This was not at all how he wanted this to play out. But he could entirely see her point and suddenly he felt incredibly short sighted for not considering it sooner. He felt like his brain was shorting out as he fumbled to come up with a response that didn’t make him seem like an absolute knob for just doing that. But maybe the only way to seem like slightly less of one was to just admit that he just was.

“C’mon Matty, we’re on.” Adam shouted at him as he walked past. He felt like he shouldn’t just leave this conversation at that, but he didn’t really have much of an option as he ran back out on stage. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

  He played the rest of the show very much avoiding the side of the stage where the girl was that he’d just kissed. An uncomfortable feeling of guilt quickly overtook him whenever he glanced in that direction. He felt like a kid who had just been given the ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ talk by their parents. As a result, his normal level of energy was definitely lacking during their encore, but for only four songs the audience hardly noticed. Y/N/N did, though. She’d seen this bit before, and it wasn’t the same this time. She was surprised that her words had cut him that deeply. The internet had shown her pretty quickly that this was not a new thing for Matty Healy, so why was this any different than those other times? As they finished up their set, he felt like he should probably apologise for what he’d done, but before he even got the chance the five of them were already being ushered away from the stage. They got dragged through to the back of the venue where a few various selections of clothes were waiting for them to change into for the after party. Ross, George and Adam pretty quickly picked what they wanted and wandered off in the direction of somewhere to change. The rush to get them all ready and out of the arena in time made Matty shove his thoughts to the back of his mind for now as he picked out a half decent suit to wear, changing into it quickly before he could change his mind.

  “Why do I have to be dressed up as well?” She grumbled as she flicked through the stuff sitting on the rack.

“Why not?” He asked with a mischievous grin. “Because you’d stick out like a sore thumb if you didn’t.” He added seriously as he adjusted the tie around his neck. “I assure you that I’d rather not have to either. It’s some posh event… thing, that the label wants me at. Everyone has to dress up.” He explained as he sat down on the small couch that was positioned in the room and slipped his dress shoes on.

“Is this like an award sorta party or some crazy rock star party or what?” She asked, deliberating over whether she actually wanted to go or not. Especially after his antics during the show, it was debatable whether she wanted to be known as hanging around him.

“There’s no press if that’s what you’re worried about.” He started with a laugh. She fucking hated it sometimes that he seemed to have such a knack for deciphering what she was really asking him between the lines. But she had to admit it was reassuring information to know nonetheless. “It’s just some networking shit. Staying in touch with people whose names are good to have in our phones. Pretty tame stuff. Open bar, though.” He grinned at the last bit. She nodded thoughtfully. That sounded doable. She opted to pick something simple to change into, and pretty much as soon as she returned from getting changed, they were all shoved into a car and on their way.

  The party was already in full swing by the time they arrived, but as soon as they stepped in it was obvious that everyone had been waiting for the band. The four of them were quickly pulled this way and that for ‘hello’s and ‘how have you been’s, leaving her to sort of aimlessly follow them along. George, Ross and Adam all seemed very animated and chatty. Matty however, answered mostly in grunts and nods. He hated parties. They were just such an incredible source of fake pleasantries and people pretending that they remembered each other. It radiated the unrelenting feeling of narcissism. These people didn’t care about him, they just cared about potential partnerships and money. And too many of these people at these parties knew him and knew the things he used to get up to in past years. It was a risky game for him to be at parties these days, he was too likely to receive offers he’d rather not have to deal with. But he was already tired after the show, he just wanted to go back to his hotel room, shower and sleep. Eventually after listening to the fifth rendition of ‘how’s tour going?’, Y/N/N wandered off in search of a drink and maybe a place to wait out the party. Matty watched enviously as she walked away from the conversation he was tied to. George’s voice eventually broke him out of his daydream of the freedom of being able to leave this hellscape.

  “We’re really happy to be here.” George said with a good level of sincerity. He did genuinely seem to be enjoying himself. “Aren’t we, Matthew?” He said with a pointed look in his friend’s direction.

“Yep.” He said, popping the ‘p’ for an attempt at emphasis as he scanned the room for the bar. The conversation continued without his presence, until eventually the people walked away and George’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” He asked Matty with a frown.

“Moping.” He answered with a tired smile. “I just wanna get stoned and sleep, man.” He added.

“You just wanna go talk to your girl.” Adam laughed loudly, causing the other two to start cracking up as well.

Matty just rolled his eyes, “Oh, fuck off.”

“Would we really be your mates if we didn’t give you a hard time for bringing a girl out here?” The drummer said with a grin as he shoved Matty in the shoulder. “Go talk to people for a bit,” He said, spinning Matty on the spot to face a group of people standing at the other end of the room. “And at least pretend like you’re having fun.” He added.

“Yes, mum.” He huffed as he walked off.

  He drifted in and out of a few different conversations, pretending to be interested and present, just like those he was speaking to. But the longer he was at the party, the easier it was for him to flip the switch and go into work mode. To network and make contacts that might benefit him down the line. He eventually ran into a few people he knew whose company he actually enjoyed and hadn’t seen in a while. That lifted his mood, albeit slightly. He gravitated around those select few to try and avoid the rest of the event around him. On the other side of the room, Y/N/N found herself watching the one person she knew at the party eagerly invested in a conversation with a bunch of people she didn’t recognise. Not that she overly expected herself to, but a part of her still tried to pinpoint who these people were. People just seemed to gravitate to him, he had that level of passive magnetism that drew people over, and she assumed his charisma was what kept them there. Certainly she knew that it was what convinced her to keep hanging around him. It felt strange seeing the same effect on other people. A naïve part of her had hoped it was a connection that only the two of them shared, but apparently not. As she looked around the room, she was reminded that she felt pretty out of place here. It all felt too fancy and high-class, and there wasn’t really any point in trying to speak to any of these people that she would more than likely never see again.

  “You look a bit lost, love.” She heard a familiar voice say. As she turned around, she saw George walking over to her, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Well, I pretty much only know him,” She said as she gestured her glass towards Matty, “and he’s sort of… otherwise occupied.” She laughed, trying to play off the unpleasant feeling sitting in her chest.

“Ah, that’s not true! You know us, now.” He said as a broad grin spread onto his features. “Come on.” He said as he began walking off. She assumed that was her cue to follow. Eventually they reached a small corner of the party with a few seats scattered across it, which happened to be the spot where the other two members of their band had opted to hang out. They let out a cheer as George walked over.

“Hey! Did you get more beer?” Ross asked eagerly.

“No, but I did rescue our friend.” He answered as he pulled a seat over for her, sitting himself down in the one next to it.

“These parties can quickly get overwhelming.” Adam said with an understanding nod. “There’s just… so many people everywhere.” He added as his eyes glanced around the room behind her warily.

  The four of them talked amongst themselves for a while. Matty had already told them pretty much everything she had told him, so George started their chat with: ‘Tell us something you haven’t told him yet’. It worked surprisingly well for opening up the door to easy flowing conversation. They spoke about anything and everything for roughly an hour in peace, until the missing member of their group finally found them. He wandered into their conversation silently, before sprawling himself out face down onto the tiled floor. “Get off the floor.” George said as he kicked his friend in the thigh.

“I was charming and social for nearly two hours. Can we go now?” Matty mumbled from his place on the ground.

“No. This thing still goes for another couple of hours.” He answered. Matty let out a loud groan at this news. “Get up.” He added through gritted teeth, still trying to get his friend to at least sit in a chair and look somewhat professional. The boy did not budge from the floor.

“We’re going to get some drinks.” Ross said as he stood up, with Adam following close behind him.

George looked at them, before looking back down at Matty and sighing. “Yeah, I need one of them too.” He agreed as he started heading in the same direction.

  As soon as their footsteps left his earshot, Matty rolled over on the floor. He sat up a bit to make sure that they weren’t still looking at him before glancing over at Y/N/N, “Let’s get out of here.” He said as a grin spread across his face. It was a lot less of a question than it was a statement.

“Don’t you have to be here? I thought this was your thing.” She asked with a look of confusion.

“I’m sure they have it covered.” He waved a hand in the direction that the rest of the band had walked off in. “They’ve all been sitting here bullshitting with you while I’ve been off being the good frontman. That’s what I’m meant to be doing, let them do the boring shit for a bit.” He laughed. “Wanna go get some food? I hear there’s this really wicked place near here that’s open late. Everyone’s been fuckin’ talking about it.”

“Sure.” She shrugged, happy for a way out of this earlier than expected. At the end of the day, it wasn’t her party to have to have to attend. She’d only come along because Matty insisted on it. He scrambled up off of the floor instantly, taking a quick look around to make sure that he wasn’t being watched too closely before ushering her out of the venue.

“And then we can go back to my place.” He added with a suggestive look as they reached the exit.

“You don’t have a place here.” She pointed out, shaking her head at him with a small smile.

“My hotel, I mean.” He clarified.

“We’re staying in the same hotel, Matty. We have to go back to the same place.” She said with a laugh. He tried to keep his cool, but a small laugh still escaped.

“You ruined it. I take back my offer, you can’t come back with me. Get a different hotel.”

  By the time they managed to sneak out of the party it was nearing on midnight. They walked down the fairly empty street towards this restaurant that he was raving about. Apparently, it had some crazy new dish that he had heard about through a friend of a friend and everyone at the party was recommending it. They’d all been checking it out while the band had to play their show. It was hardly reasonable of them to talk it up so much without expecting Matty to want to try it for himself. He mostly spoke about what other random things the people in the party had been trying to speak to him about while they made their way down the street. As they stood in front of the pretty fancy looking establishment, she suddenly felt nervous. It was a different nervous from the usual level of anxiety she felt being around someone as sporadic and forward as Matty, this was much more of a self-conscious nervous. She wasn’t sure if it was his joke striking a different chord when they were leaving or something else that had burrowed its way into her brain, but she just had this overwhelming feeling that- “Is this a date?” She eventually asked, cutting him off mid-sentence.

He frowned at her for a moment, snuffing out the cigarette he had been smoking before speaking, “No.”

  She looked from the restaurant, to the suit he was still wearing, to the fancy shit he had convinced her to wear, to the fact that it was just the two of them. His words weeks ago about not being in a place to want to make decisions like that ran through her mind, but it still didn’t feel right. “Are you sure this isn’t a date?” She asked again.

“Do you want it to be one?” He questioned.

“No, I just…” She trailed off, suddenly unsure if that answer was true or not.

“Why would it be a date?” He continued as he held open the door for her.

“Well, you’re dressed fancy, I’m dressed fancy-” She started.

“We just got out of a party.” He answered, quickly asking for a table for the both of them.

“-the guys aren’t here-” She reminded.

“Only because we ditched them.”

“-and we’re at some super nice place to get dinner.”

He had to laugh at that. “We can go to McDonalds if you’d prefer?” He offered with an eyebrow raised, waiting expectantly before taking his seat.

“No, no. I just thought…” She elected to just swallow her nerves and roll with it. Which was the majority of how she had to interact with Matty, anyway. “Just wanted to know.”

  They both sat down at the table, Matty declining the menus offered by the waiter and just ordering two of the dish that everyone else had been ordering all night and two drinks for them. It was nice for him to finally have a moment where nobody else was around. Since she’d arrived at the hotel earlier today it was non-stop. The break and chance to properly catch up was a breath of fresh air after the chaos of the day.

“How’re you finding the guys?” He asked eventually as he took a sip from his glass, curiosity burning at the back of his mind about what they could have been chatting about for so long while he was busy. Those boys had more than enough incriminating stories about him from across the years, but he had faith that they wouldn’t throw him under the bus like that. Yet.

“Good! They’re really nice,” She said with a grin. “I can see why you picked those three to start a band with.”

A smile slowly spread across his face as he dwelled on the thought of his friends. He imagined they were gonna be pretty shitty at him once they realised that he’d bailed on the party. They put up with a lot of crap from him. They were good guys. “Yeah, they’re pretty great. I dunno where I’d be without them.” He admitted with a shrug.

  “Did they do a good job of staving you from boredom?” He questioned casually.

“Yeah, we just chatted about what it was like to work the show from behind the scenes rather than playing on the front lines.” She replied.

He nodded. That seemed like a George sort of topic. Common ground that everyone could discuss easily. Good call. “Do you do it a lot?”

“Not a huge amount. I’d do it more if I could but it’s kind of just a seasonal thing that I do with my brother. It’s really fun though. I always love chatting to people at shows.” She answered, the enthusiasm for the work instantly seeping into her voice. 

“Would you do it more if the opportunity came up?”

“I suppose so. It’s pretty decent money for doing a fun job.” She said. He hummed thoughtfully at that. Maybe that information could work in his favour. The more time he spent with her, the better he felt overall. He couldn’t deny that the idea of having her around more frequently was a tempting one.

  As they waited for the food to arrive, Matty found his mind drifting back to the gig. The feeling of guilt still sat heavily in his chest. He should’ve known better than to try something like that. To try and force a reaction from someone, especially by doing something intentionally abrasive. At this point in his life some would think that personal experience would’ve taught him a thing or two from previous mistakes, but apparently old habits of recklessness die hard. He rested his elbows on the table, dragging his hands down his face before finally getting out what he had been wanting to say. “I’m sorry by the way, about earlier.”

She looked up at him curiously, unsure what exactly it was that he was talking about. “For what?”

“During the show.” He elaborated with a sigh as he rested his chin on his folded hands, glancing down at his half-finished drink. Oh. That was what he was talking about. “I didn’t mean for it to come across like that, and in hindsight it was stupid of me to think that I could still get away with shit like that. I was just being a bit of an arrogant twat. Sorry.” He apologised.

She wasn’t entirely sure why he felt the need to elaborate on what had happened. It was seeming pretty obvious that pulling stunts like that was just tied in with those aspects of Matty’s personality. With blunt honesty, came a lack of filter. With the level of confidence he exuded, came a blurred line on what was showing off and what was just being egotistical. But that was his issue to sort out, he didn’t have to apologise to her for his mistakes. “You know that you don’t have to explain yourself to me, right?”

He just silently tapped at the tattoo above his right elbow. ‘Weak messages create bad situations’ - right. “I don’t like leaving things unsaid. I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t notice that I’d done it.” He explained as their food was placed in front of them.

  Once their food was in front of them and Matty had gotten that off of his chest, conversation was back to normal between them. They bullshitted about music that they had been listening to, and about the people that they had seen at the party. It was a good thing that it was so late because they didn’t have to worry about their laughter disrupting any other tables. Eventually the restaurant was closing and the staff kicked them out. It was too late to want to continue partying on, and Matty still wanted a decent night’s sleep after playing a show tonight and only just flying in the night prior. They made their way back to the hotel and up to their hotel rooms. Of course, Matty had made sure that her room was booked right next to his. His fantastic pickup lines wouldn’t work if they were on separate floors. He fumbled around in his pockets before calling her name to grab her attention before she stepped into her room. “I lost my hotel room key… Can I borrow yours?” He asked with a puppy dog eyed look.

“Nice try.” She laughed.

He let out a low laugh as he pulled his key out of his wallet, “Can’t blame me for trying.” He unlocked the door, propping it open for a moment as he looked back at her. “We’ve got that photoshoot thing tomorrow near midday, so let me know when you’re awake. But otherwise, sweet dreams. You know where I am if you need me.” He said with a wink.

“G’night, Matty.” She called out, shutting her door behind her.

  * * *

  Thankfully for everyone, they didn’t have to start their morning the next day too early. They had gotten back anywhere between two and three in the morning after their various adventures and were all in dire need of sleep. It wasn’t until about ten that the five of them found themselves crowded around a small table in the hotel restaurant, trying to finish a complimentary continental breakfast before they stopped offering the service.

“So… where did you two get off to last night? You abandoned us at the afterparty.” Ross asked casually as he stirred his tea. George started laughing before Matty even had the chance to speak, and only laughed harder after he had answered Ross’s question.

“We were off having wild, kinky sex while you guys were stuck at the party.” Matty deadpanned. “Weren’t we?” He asked with a suggestive grin in her direction.

“Totally.” She scoffed.

  “How is he?” George asked with an amused smile once his laughter had calmed down a bit.

“Awful.” She answered, instantly getting George into hysterics again, Ross and Adam quickly following suit.

“Hey!” Matty shouted. “That’s not true!” He continued.

“What were you really doing?” Ross asked again through chuckles.

“We went out for dinner.” She answered before Matty could make something else up.

“Oh?” George looked over at his best friend with his eyebrows raised in curiosity. That was considerably more interesting information to George than if they would have hooked up. Matty wasn’t a stranger to one-night stands, but to dates? That was a bit different. He hadn’t been on a date since his girlfriend left him over three months ago. Matty flashed him a look across the table that he knew meant ‘you’d better shut up before I make you shut up’, so he decided to harass him about it later.

  It wasn’t long after they finally finished their meal that a taxi was sent over to take them to this photoshoot. It was a magazine cover that the whole band were set to feature on, the story it was relating to had already been interviewed a few weeks prior over the phone. As soon as they arrived, each of the four members of the band were offered a limited selection of outfits to choose from to best coordinate for the photo. Y/N/N waited patiently while each of them picked what they wanted and went off to get changed. It wasn’t long before Matty came sauntering out of the side room dressed in a grey suit jacket and pants over a black turtleneck. The overall look suited him well. Suits looked good on him. “What do you think?” He asked as he did a small spin on the spot. As she quickly gave him a once over, she noticed that he also had on glasses. It was a strange sight to see. Not necessarily a bad one, just one that she had never had to process before. The longer she looked at the glasses, the more she realised that they didn’t reflect any light.

  “What the fuck are those?” She asked, taking a closer look at the metal frame sitting on his face. They most definitely didn’t have lenses in them and served no purpose. Was he just trying to be ironic?

“What?” He asked in confusion as she went to jab a finger through one of the empty lenses. Thankfully, it missed his eye. “Fuck off!” He laughed as he stepped back, slapping her hand away from his face.

“You fuck off. What’s with these?” She chuckled, taking them off of his face. “You don’t wear glasses.”

“How do you know that?” He asked with a smug grin.

“I feel like I would’ve seen it by now.” She narrowed her eyes at him, challenging him to prove that he needed glasses. Without lenses. For some reason.

“I could just wear contacts all the time.” He continued, before dropping the act and answering properly. “I used to need glasses, don’t anymore. Needing glasses destroyed my penchant for sunglasses so I got laser done. But I was gonna wear these today because it looks cool. Makes me look sophisticated and shit.” He took the glasses back from her and placed them back on the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t need to look sophisticated. Anyone who speaks to you learns pretty quickly that you have a vocabulary better than a dictionary.” She pointed out.

“Yeah but people aren’t gonna be able to talk to me through the cover of a magazine. Are they, love?” He chuckled, adjusting his suit jacket.

“Fair point.” She nodded.

  The rest of the band slowly filed into the room, all with similarly coloured black and grey outfits. They looked like a cohesive unit when they were all dressed in coordination like this. Most of the time they just looked like a group of mates hanging out together. Which, to be fair, both descriptions were correct. Once the photographer was happy with how everyone was dressed and styled, they were dragged into a white room for the shoot. Y/N/N stood at the back of the room, watching keenly as the photographer shouted directions, set up the lighting, altered settings. It was interesting getting to see the whole procedure behind processes like this, but also incredibly distracting considering the company that she was with for it. Matty spent the majority of the shoot being told off for making stupid faces at her to get her to laugh. He wanted to take it seriously, but it was far too tempting to be an idiot when he knew she was just so easy to get a reaction out of. If he wasn’t allowed to make dumb faces, then he just got the guys to stand in really weird poses with him, much to their displeasure. Whenever they complained about it, he just explained that it was ‘art’. As a result, it took a little over an hour until they were able to get the shots that they wanted, but they got them. After the photo shoot was done, the day played out very similarly to the day before. They went across to the second venue for today’s show, completed soundcheck and then were soon enough waiting anxiously to go on stage.

“Excited?” She asked Matty as he paced around the room.

He just shrugged as he ran a hand through his messy curls, “Same amount of nerves as always.”

“Any grand plans for tonight’s show?” She asked, trying her best to seem serious but still cracking a smile.

He stopped pacing, turning to face her. “No,” He laughed, knowing exactly what she was taking a jab at. “I promise that there’s nothing special on the agenda.” He assured.

  One of the stage crew walked past, shouting out that they were on in two minutes. The band quickly assembled themselves side stage, letting out a few deep breaths before starting to walk out. She considered that if this was going to become a regular thing, she’d have to invest in some earplugs to save herself from going deaf in the near future. The show was a lot easier to enjoy knowing that Matty was just performing and not intentionally trying to show off like he was the night before. His stage presence was almost better when he wasn’t trying; he got lost in the moment a lot easier when he wasn’t gauging her reaction every five seconds. The songs only sounded better the more times that she was hearing them, and she made a mental note to properly watch the impressive light show from the back of the crowd the next time that she was in this position. Because she had a distinct feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time that she would be watching their live show. However, she found that the most impressive part of the show wasn’t the music, or the lights, or Matty’s dancing skills.

  “Hey, you all have to pay attention for a few minutes.” Matty said into his microphone, giving a serious look towards the crowd before their intermission speech started playing. Ross, George and Adam all walked off the stage, each grabbing a drink of water and taking a breather. But Matty stayed. The night prior he had run off stage to speak to her, so she was unaware that this was normally what he did. He turned his attention away from the audience, standing and facing the screens. The look on his face as he listened to the speech was nothing short of attentive. Even as he lit up a cigarette and sat down on the stage, his interest never wandered. His gaze flicked between the three screens that they had set up, but he never turned to look at the crowd, or to look side stage. He just sat, and listened. She supposed that he probably did it to set a good example for everyone in the audience, that if he paid attention, they all would too. But to see him so focused on the messages being displayed, to be so passionate for the cause, felt special. It felt powerful. The show continued after that with even more passion than what he had put into the first portion of it. For the first time, she saw the whole show uninterrupted, and loved every single second.

  It was fairly early on the Sunday morning that she had to catch her flight home, so they skipped the partying after their set. As much as hanging out with the band was fun, she did have to eventually head home and try to land some more work to get her through the summer. The next morning, she was waiting in the hotel lobby with her bags, having already said her goodbyes to Ross, Adam and George. Matty stood next to her, rocking back and forth onto the balls of his feet as he tried to prolong saying goodbye. “It was really good seeing you again.” He said with a genuine smile, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” He added.

“Oh? You’re sure?” She laughed with an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah!” He said with a snorted laugh. “Admit it, you’ll be back because you totally want a piece of this.” He added, looking at her over the frame of his sunglasses as he gestured at himself. She would’ve liked to have thought that hearing this joke the second time around it would’ve had less impact on her reaction, but it seemed harder to shrug it off this time.

  She had to look away from him to keep her face neutral as she answered him. “Even if I did, I would never give you the ego boost by telling you.” She knew deep down that a part of her was lying about the former part of her statement, but she was definitely pretty firm on the latter.

He hummed in consideration at her answer, “Never?”

“Never.” She repeated assuredly. He didn’t say anything else, and when she looked over at him the grin on his face was nothing short of devious. “What?” She asked with a frown.

“Nothing.” He shrugged.

“What?” She repeated.

He pulled her in for a tight hug, “Don’t set me a challenge if you aren’t prepared to have it beaten.” He said lowly into her ear before moving back. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and suddenly she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. He said a brief goodbye, flashed her a parting grin, and then was already on his way. “Have a good flight.” He shouted, waving over his shoulder as he headed back towards the elevators. 

  Last Chapter

Next Chapter

[ladyvader23]

The Honeymoon

This work is gifted to @jainadurron for the Secret Santa Han and Leia exchange hosted by @hanleiasecretsanta! Thanks for the opportunity to write something a bit different and hope you enjoy! Merry ficmas! ^_^ 

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“We’re about to revert outta hyperspace.” 

Leia looked up from her datapad, blinking at her husband. She sat curled up on their bed in the cabin of the Falcon, passing the time of hyperspace by going over reports for her upcoming meetings. As usual, once she started working, time seemed to slip away from her, so focused was she. The eight hour hyperspace journey to Cato Neimoidia seemed like nothing but an hour to her. Han always teased her that he could walk an angry nexu in front of her, and she wouldn’t notice if she was engrossed in her work. She had to admit he had a point. So, she didn’t mention how quickly time had passed for her and simply nodded, standing to stretch before joining him in piloting the Falcon.

 But she got quite the surprise when she helped him with the reversion sequence. Huh. It wasn’t Cato Neimoidia that appeared in the viewport after all. Instead, a planet covered in mostly water appeared. What? Leia’s brows knit together, and she immediately began checking the coordinates. “I told you we should have brought one of the droids or Chewie.” Leia said somewhat irritably, shaking her head in exasperation. “Your calculations were totally off, Han. We’re at Spira, not…” 

“I know.” Han replied smuggly, shooting her his familiar over-confident grin. “We’re exactly where we need to be Sweetheart.” 

Her eyes narrowed, turning slowly in her seat to face her husband while he transmitted their landing codes. “We are? What do you mean by that? What did you do?!” 

“What did I do?!” Han asked, mock offended, a wounded look on his handsome face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He waved his hand dismissively and actually tsked at his wife, causing her to arch her eyebrows in surprise.

Leia rolled her eyes and huffed, gesturing impatiently at the viewport where Spira could clearly be seen. “Oh really?” 

“Really.” Han nodded with feral grin. “I’d certainly never imply that the meeting on Cato Neimoidia was a week earlier than it actually was so that I could surprise you with a romantic vacation alone...just for two...to Spira.” 

His words registered in her brain, slowly. 

“Vacation?” She echoed. 

“You got it, Sweetheart.” He smiled to himself like he’d won the Millenium Falcon from Lando all over again. “It wasn’t easy, y’know. I had to convince so many people on the Council to go along with it…” 

She didn’t even want to know what he’d done to manage that…

“Then, I had to make sure Winter was able to watch the kids for two weeks instead of just one, and of course, I also had to make sure the Noghri were fully aware of my plans while also trying to get them to not let it slip to you...Then I let Luke know so that…” 

“Luke knew about this, too?” Leia interrupted, stunned at the lengths Han had gone to on this little endeavor. “Did everyone know except me about this vacation?” 

Han shrugged nonchalantly. “Anyone who might be affected in some way, yeah.” 

She stared at him, then turned to look at the planet, then once again back at him. “Why?” She was more than a little confused here. What in the galaxy could have motivated him to pull such a stunt?

Now he looked a little sheepish. “Well...it’s not often you get a break Leia. It’s not often we get a break. And we didn’t get to have much of a honeymoon really, since everything was so busy…” 

“It’s still busy.” She was the Chief of State. Her entire life was the definition of busy. To go on vacation, especially leading up to the conference on Cato Neimoidia… “I don’t know if we have time for this Han. If we’ve got an extra week before the conference…” 

“No.” Han gave her a stern look and held up a hand to forestall her next argument. “Like I said. When have we ever gone on a vacation where something hasn’t gone wrong? Especially alone?” 

She tried to think of even one such instance...just one...and came up empty. He was right. Something had always gone wrong. Every. Single.Time. That seemed to be the case most of their entire relationship, actually. 

“Don’t you think it would be nice, just this once, Babe, to have a vacation where nothing goes wrong?” Han asked. “You deserve it. We deserve it. The kids are being looked after, and they have plenty of security. The Council knows you’re on vacation and, by the way, you do actually have earned time off, y'know. Even Mothma took a vacation every once in a while when she was in charge. So, why can’t we, huh?” 

She hated to admit it, but he was right. And, she’d actually never been to Spira, but she’d heard of it’s white sand beaches, temperate climate, and abundance of water sports. If she was honest with herself, it sounded absolutely divine. And when would she ever have this chance again? Probably not for quite a long time. She certainly wouldn’t spare the time to set up something like this for herself, and Han had gone to so much trouble...just the fact that he’d done so was admittedly sweet of him… 

And when he looked at her the way he currently was, with pleading hazel eyes and a pout, how could she say no? He was just too damn sexy, and just one look in his eyes and all her objections fled.

“Alright. Just this once. And nothing will go wrong, right? You're positive?” 

He grinned in triumph, reveling in his victory as he turned back to focusing on the landing sequence. “Don’t you worry, Sweetheart. I’ve made sure nothing can go wrong.” 

Smirking, she just shook her head, "I've got a feeling something will go wrong."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Naturally, something went wrong. 

“What do you mean, you don’t have a room ready for us?” Han hissed at the front desk clerk, as light green female Rodian rechecked the hotel system. “I have a confirmation number and everything!” 

“Yes, Mr. Solo, I see that you booked the honeymoon suite, but for some reason, your reservation didn’t process correctly, and the room isn’t ready…” She replied, nervously. 

He let out an annoyed huff, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. Leia, thankfully, hadn’t come with him to check in. She was still outside, grabbing them some sweet treats from a stand along the beach. 

“Just...tell me it’s still available.” 

The Rodian winced. “Well. A honeymoon suite is available, yes...just not the one you picked...and it won’t be available until later this afternoon…” 

He’d picked the premier suite. The one that was supposedly themed, with its own jacuzzi that used purple passion flower scented water and had the best view of the ocean in the entire hotel. He figured girls liked that sort of thing. 

Granted, Leia wasn’t usually one to expect gestures like that from him, but he’d wanted to make this special for her, for them. Especially now that they actually had the credits to pay for something like this. He’d meant it when he said they deserved a nice vacation. They’d given up so much for the galaxy...surely the galaxy could give them a week without causing too much chaos. 

Apparently not. 

“What’s the difference between the room I picked and the one that’s available?” 

“Well, the one that’s available still has a beach view, it just also has a port side view. Still beautiful, but if there’s a lot of pleasure barges docked it can look a little cluttered.” Okay, they could probably deal with that. “And there is a jacuzzi, yes, but it’s not as large and the water isn’t automatically scented. You’d have to do it yourself.” 

He had no idea how to do that. What, did he just throw a bunch of flower petals in the water and mix it around? Maybe Leia knew how to do it, but he really didn’t want to make her work at all. By the end of this trip, he wanted her to be completely relaxed, and to him, mixing petal water sounded like more stress than it was worth. 

“I’ll figure it out.” He finally relented. He would need to make sure Chewie and Luke never heard about this, but he’d figure it out. “But I expect something for all the trouble. My wife is the Chief of State. She’s Leia Organa Solo. This should never have happened.” 

The Rodian made a gagging noise of horror and started stuttering. “P-Perhaps w-we could m-move the current residents of the premier suite…” 

“No, it wouldn’t make her happy to know I kicked someone else out of their room.” If it was just him on the other hand… “But...I don’t know, can you maybe throw in something special? I mean, this is the hotel's error, after all...Not mine."

The Rodian hesitated, then checked her datapad. “We could send up some champagne and comp a dinner at our nicest restaurant?” 

He mulled it over. “Can you also comp a large bouquet of flowers?” 

The Rodian checked her system again. “Yes, I believe we can swing that.” 

“Then it’s a deal.”

 He explained to the clerk exactly what he wanted. When he finished, the Rodian nodded. “Yes, Sir. The room and your order should be ready this afternoon. Again, I'm so sorry for the trouble, Mr. Solo.” 

He waved her off and headed back into the lobby just as Leia entered the building. Her long dark hair was uncharacteristically loose and flowing around her shoulders. Already it looked like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “I found shrimpi cups.” She announced, holding one out to him. “We can eat it in our room. Then maybe, if you don’t have things planned, we could go for a walk on the beach?” 

He accepted it from her. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we eat it on the beach?” 

She glanced at their bags at their feet. “But…” 

He waved down the attention of a service droid nearby. “The droid will take care of it.” He assured her, then as the droid came closer he turned around and whispered, “As soon as the room for Leia and Han Solo is ready, put these bags in there.” The droid made a displeased bleep, but he raised his brows expectantly. “We are not going to carry our bags around all day because your hotel messed up on our accommodations.” 

“What was that, Han?” Leia called. 

“Nothing!” He threw her a reassuring smile even as he handed the bags off to the droid. Thankfully, the droid took it with little more than an annoyed bleep. 

He approached his wife again, huge grin in place, holding out his arm towards her. “Shall we?” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eating on the beach ended up being the perfect activity. She’d been a little suspicious at Han’s strange behavior in the hotel lobby, but the lovely white sand beaches and cool, salty breeze put her mind at ease. The island they were on wasn’t as populated as some of the others on Spira, apparently, so there weren’t as many people wandering the beach. The water was calm, so much so that it looked more like they were on the shore of a giant glass lake than an ocean. Sand crabs darted about their feet, and they both kicked their shoes off and walked hand-in-hand, barefoot in the soft, velvety shoreline, water tickling their toes.

And it felt as if each step lifted away another worry or stress from her shoulders. It got even better when Han led her to a secluded section of the beach with a spa. “Really?” She asked skeptically. 

“What?” Han shrugged. “I thought it would be nice.” 

“It will be, but I didn’t exactly think of you as being someone who liked strangers touching your body.” 

“Well...do you like massages?” 

She didn’t mention that she used to love getting them on Alderaan as a teenager. She hadn’t had one since before the war, though. “Yes.” 

“Then it’ll be fine. Who knows, maybe I’ll like it.” 

“Wait, you’ve never gotten a massage?” 

“Like you said, the idea of strangers touching my body like that didn’t appeal to me. I’m not against it,” he added, “So...Maybe I’ll try it and never be able to live without it again.” 

They approached the counter and Leia picked up a pamphlet listing options and packages. 

“I like the sound of that.” She grinned. “So, I’ll be the one to choose what we get.”

“Choose away, Princess.” He motioned with his hand, dipping his head slightly in deference.

And that was how they each ended up with a hot stone massage on a soft table, side by side, under a gazebo overlooking the ocean, the lovely scent of tropical flowers wafting in the air...and contented smiles on both their faces. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Oh Han, they’re beautiful!” Leia smiled as she took in the large bouquet of flowers that had been artfully arranged in a crystal vase on the nightstand. Inwardly, Han breathed a sigh of relief. So far, so good. “Purple passion flowers, everlilies, rojos and blue blossoms…Do you have any idea how expensive this arrangement was?” 

Kriff. No. He didn’t. The flowers were free from the hotel, but he wasn’t going to tell Leia that. Doing so would mean he���d have to admit something went wrong on their perfect vacation, and he wasn’t willing to do that. “Of course. I had to pay for them, didn’t I?” He approached her and took her hands in his own, rubbing his calloused fingers gently over her own.

 She smiled softly. “I guess that’s true. I’m just surprised, is all. This size arrangement costs the equivalent of several days pay of a navy officer’s salary.”

 Seriously? Who knew fresh flowers were so damn expensive? He didn’t understand it. They would just die before the end of the week. But his wife seemed pleased with it, and if she was happy, he was happy. 'Nuff said.

She pulled away and approached the open air balcony, white curtains softly blowing in the breeze. She leaned against the stone ledge, taking in a deep breath as he approached from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him. From this close, she still smelled of the lavender oils the masseuse used during their massage. “You really outdid yourself this time, Honey.” She said softly, leaning back against him. 

Thankfully, the hotel front desk clerk hadn’t been wrong. The room did have a beautiful view, with the harbor full of boats of all sizes and shapes, with a sunset of reds, oranges, pinks, and golds backdropping a never ending ocean. If he hadn’t originally purchased the room that was advertised as the best view in the hotel, he wouldn’t have known the difference. 

“I’m glad you’re happy.” He said, planting a sweet kiss on top of her head. “Are you happy?” 

“Of course.” She turned around, to see his eyebrows raised in doubt.

“Really? It’s a little more work to make sure it all fit together…”

She sighed and shook her head. “If you’d just told me you wanted to go on a vacation, I could have helped you plan it.” 

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” He grinned, then snapped his fingers.“Oh! I also have stuff to make one of those fancy baths for you.” 

Leia raised her brows. “Fancy baths?” 

“Yeah. Y’know. With the flower water or whatever. You, uh, wouldn’t happen to know how to make it all nice and smelly, would you?” 

Her lips twitched. A sign she was attempting to hold back laughter. “You run hot water in the tub and place the petals in the water, if it’s petals. If it’s just a salt, then you also just dump that in the hot water and let it dissolve.” 

“You can do that with salt?” He asked, and this time she did laugh. “Well, I didn’t know! I’m a smuggler, for kriff's sake! You’ve seen the inside of the Falcon…” 

“Hmm...I’ve seen the outside, too.” She grinned at him.

“...and she may not be pretty, but she’s got it where it counts!” He huffed. “Alright. I...ah, just thought it would be nice to have a hot bath. That's all.” He flushed and shrugged, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck nervously.

The smile that spread over her face turned sultry. “Oh?” 

“Yeah. And I’m going to go draw it up.” 

“You know, I could do it since I’ve done it before…” 

“No, no.” He shook his head, already backing away towards the master bath. “You’re on vacation, Sweetheart. I got this.” 

Amused, she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the balcony railing. “I almost want to watch you do this.” 

“There’ll be nothing to see since I’ve got this. No worries. This is me we're talking about.” He assured her, ignoring her incredulous look, before turning around to set about his objective. He entered the master bath and firmly shut the door behind him. He'd show her. He was a man of many talents. How hard could it be?

Technically, it wasn’t. He approached the massive marble jacuzzi tub, turned on the water, and set it to the perfect warm temperature. Then, as it ran, he found the bowl of flower petals waiting on the bathroom counter and dumped them in, then watched as the water ran over the plants. Sure enough, purple color began to bleach from the petals into the water. So far, so good. 

Satisfied, he nodded and grabbed a bottle of scented bubble bath and dumped the entire container full of soap in the water. After all, the more bubbles the better, he figured, and the bottle wasn’t very big at all anyway. 

Big mistake. 

At first, it looked to be shaping up to be a perfect flowery bubble bath for two. Mentally, he went about imagining him and Leia in the tub...getting rather creative, and he couldn't help the wolfish grin that spread on his face at such imagery. Then, as more water poured into the purple soapy mixture, the bubbles grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger with no signs of stopping. 

Oh no. 

Satisfaction turned to uncertainty which quickly turned into horror, and he cursed as he grabbed a towel and began trying to scoop bubbles out, trying to dump them in the double sinks in the vanity. It didn’t work. The bubbles just kept foaming, reaching higher and higher, climbing the marble walls. 

Oh shit.

“Is everything alright…? Oh. Force.” Han turned around in horror at Leia’s voice...and the movement caused him to lose his balance on the edge of the tub and slip and fall backward into the mess of water, petals and bubbles, disappearing completely from view in the huge mounds of bubbles. 

When he emerged, spluttering, his vision, his nose, his mouth were full of bubbles, and as he sucked in air, he managed to inhale a mouth full of soap and a stray petal or two. He spat it out and worked to clear his vision just in time to see Leia sit delicately on the edge of the tub, laughing uproariously his predicament. “Oh yes, I definitely should have been watching you. What, did you pour the entire bottle in the tub?” 

He pointed at her vehemently, even as he hoped the mess he made hid the flush on his cheeks. “We will never speak of this again.” 

Leia snorted, still chuckling and shaking her head, reaching over to turn off the water. “I’m sure Chewie would love to hear how you attempted to draw a bath and instead filled the bathroom with a mountain of bubbles in an attempt to wash all the walls, I guess.” 

“Leia!”

“But you know,” she smiled that sultry smile again, her eyes twinkling, and a second later she swung her legs into the bath, clothes and all, and joined him. The water and bubbles slushed over the sides once more, as she approached him, wrapping her arms over his shoulders...and turned on a switch behind him. The water began to bubble around them as the jets turned on, causing the bubbles to foam even worse. "There are advantages to being so scrupulously clean."

“Uh...I don’t think we’re getting our security deposit back.” He said, eyes locked with his wife’s. This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined their time in the bath, but…

She leaned closer until their lips were just centimeters apart, their breath mingling. “I think, whatever happens on this honeymoon, stays on this honeymoon.” 

He breathed out in relief, grinning, and kissed her deeply in answer. He was glad his wife was in total agreement with him on that.

By the next morning, he figured that, despite his apparent inability to put together a fancy bath, their bath time turned out much better than he imagined. 

But they were definitely not getting that deposit back. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~

She had to admit, Han could still surprise her, and he still proved daily that he wasn’t just a 'no good smuggler.' By the Force, he was so much more than that. General. Lover. Husband. Father. Pilot. Best Friend. And, apparently, pretty kriffing decent when it came to planning honeymoons. 

She was definitely impressed.

The rest of their week alone had been full of fun activities. Plenty of motosurfing; he’d had to teach her how to do that, and once she managed to get up on the board, she didn’t ever want to stop, much to her husband's amusement. They’d gone paddling in secluded lagoons, diving with schools of colorful fish in coral reefs, swimming in crystal clear lakes they found hiding in deserted caves, and island hopping where they had plenty of alone time on a small, white sand beach, undisturbed by any others, where they'd enjoyed a lovely picnic full of a veritable smorgasbord of delectable goodies, all packed for them by a helpful hotel concierge - complements of the Master Chef in the hotel's classiest restaurant.

Those alone times had especially made the whole trip worth it. 

They lounged on the cushioned bench of the balcony on their last night there, watching the full moon reflected off the relatively calm water of the ocean, listening to the peaceful sound of the ebbing tide. She swirled a glass of red, dry wine (at thirty nine degrees, Han teased when he’d handed it to her) in her hand absently, every once in a while taking a small sip from it. Around her waist, Han snaked an arm and held her close, and she leaned her back against the warmth of his chest. A light weight blanket was draped over both of them, as a gentle breeze wafted the salty scent of the sea around them.

Now this was pure bliss.

“Well.” She said softly, almost as though she were afraid to break the still silence of the night, “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t felt this relaxed since...since before I even joined the Senate.” 

Han softly whistled. “No wonder you’re so uptight, Sweetheart.” She tensed, the mood partially broken as she turned to chew him out, and he quickly added, “I’m only teasing, of course. Really, I’m glad. We deserved this.” He kissed her tenderly, and the tension left her shoulders, as she savored the taste and feel of him. 

“You were right.” She admitted when he pulled away, far too soon for her liking. “Maybe we should do this vacation thing more often.” 

“Wait, what was that? Do my ears deceive me?” 

“What?” 

“You said I was right.” 

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Don’t get used to it.” 

“Oh no, I’m going to savor this moment, Princess.” He took a deep breath. “Oh yeah. That feels great. I’m going to tell Chewie you finally admitted it. And Luke, as well.” Honestly, his look was so smug right now.

“Ah, ah!” She grinned, shaking her head, “What happens on this honeymoon stays on this honeymoon! Remember?” 

Han pouted. “Well...I’m sure not everything…” 

“Nope. Everything.” She reiterated before turning back to the view with a pleasured sigh. “Maybe next time we should bring the kids.” 

“To...a honeymoon?” 

“No, nerf herder, on vacation.” 

“Erm. As much as I love them, that doesn’t sound very relaxing to me.” 

“But it would be good to bond with them, I’m sure.” At his grimace, she snorted. “Alright. Maybe when they’re a little older and not so prone to disobeying their parents.” 

“Now, I like the sound of that.” 

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying one another’s company. Then, Han asked, more timid than she’d ever heard him, “Leia. Can I ask you something?” 

She raised a brow. She’d never heard him sound so hesitant. “Anything.” 

He didn’t say anything right away, not meeting her eyes. “Do you...think your...I mean, what do you think...you know…”

“Spit it out.” 

He huffed. “Do you think your parents would have approved of...us?” 

She blinked in surprise. Again. He never failed to surprise her. She didn’t have to have the Force to know he didn’t mean her biological parents. “You’ve waited three kids and how many years of marriage to ask me that? I didn’t even think you cared about that.” 

“Well...I mean, I would've married you anyway regardless, but...sure. They’re you’re family. Our family. That’s important.” 

She stared at him. “Even now? Even though they...even though you’ll never get to meet them?” 

“Even now.” 

Leia blew out a breath, then looked back at the calm water as she seriously considered. “Well. They definitely would have objected to us marrying.” 

“Yeah?” He didn’t sound offended, or even all that surprised. 

“Yeah, but I don’t think that means they wouldn’t have liked you personally. There’s just certain expectations of royals.” 

“Outdated expectations, if you ask me.” 

“I agree, obviously.” she managed a small smile. “And I don’t think they would have stopped us if that’s what I really wanted.” 

“That’s good, right?” 

“Naturally.” She thought some more, matching her parents' personalities up with what they’d told her during her teenage years. “You probably would have charmed my mother.” 

“I always charm the ladies. That’s not a big surprise.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, laser brain.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not that charming. You just have an insane amount of luck and persistence.” 

“And it doesn’t hurt that I’m devilishly handsome, right?” He teased, wolfish grin in place. 

No. It definitely didn’t hurt. Not at all. But she made no comment on that. No sense in swelling his ego any more than it already was.  “My father definitely would have objected to you. Actually, he and I might have butted heads over my dating you. He might've said, What does a twenty-nine-year old smuggler from Corellia want with a nineteen-year-old princess from Alderaan? And he wouldn’t have been wrong.” 

“My intentions were always pure…” 

“Uh huh.” She grinned. “Sure they were. But, after we got married and had the twins, he would've softened up. Especially over the twins. They would have worked their charismatic magic on him, and he would have been putty in their little hands. Then I think he’d probably have become your best friend.” 

“It’s always the grandkids that get the in-laws to relax. Especially the father-in-laws.” Han laughed. 

“That they do.” She agreed and then turned to him. “Did that answer your question?” 

“Depends. You didn’t say any of that just to make me feel better, did ya?” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“Never.” She shook her head, leaned in and kissed him again, longer this time. Deeper. 

When they pulled away, Han asked, “Would you do it again? If you woke up tomorrow and had the option of going back and doing it all over again, would you change anything or would you keep things the same?” 

“Wow. You’ve got a lot of hard hitting questions tonight, don't you. I feel like I’m being interviewed for a holovid.” But she knew he was serious, so again she treated the question with the seriousness it deserved, taking a few minutes to mull over all they'd seen and been through. “I wish there were things during the war I could change, yes...just so that not so many good, innocent people died.” 

“Including your parents?”

 She nodded. “Especially them. Especially my home planet.” As it usually did, speaking about Alderaan caused her heart to constrict in her chest, but like she normally did with those feelings, she pushed it aside and moved on. “But if changing things meant losing you?” 

She paused. 

She was always one to put duty first. She'd been raised as a royal princess. Duty before self-interests came with the title and was second nature to her way of being. She’d made judgement calls during the Rebellion that put the good of the group above the good of the individual repeatedly. Hell, her decision to do just that on the Death Star had led to her home and family being destroyed in front of her own eyes. 

But would she give up Han? 

He was her life partner. Her soulmate. Her equal. He supported her just as much as she supported him. Even when he didn’t agree, he was there for her. He accepted her as she was, flaws and all, just as she accepted him. There were so many things she couldn’t have done alone that she was able to accomplish because they had each other’s backs. Han had become her other half, without her consciously realizing it. Without him, her life was bleaker...and of course, far less interesting. 

“No.” Han’s brows shot up in surprise, but she didn’t find herself particularly shocked by her answer. “I’ve given up so much in my life for Alderaan, for the Rebellion, for the galaxy. But you...I don’t want to give you up. Not ever by choice.” 

He blinked at her. “Really?” 

It was too dark to tell, but she thought his voice hitched as though he were getting choked up, something her husband almost never did.

“Really.” She promised, smiling up at him softly, tenderly, but no less affirmatively.

He stared at her, as though memorizing her, or the moment they were in. “I love you, Leia.” 

She grinned. “I know.” 

Then his lips were on hers, but this time they were hot and fierce, as though her words had opened a floodgate of emotion he could no longer contain. She wrapped her arms around his neck, climbing into his lap as she kissed him back with as much fervor as she could muster. 

“What do you say we take this to the bedroom?” Han asked between kisses, his voice a deep husky whisper.

 “That’s my favorite question you've asked, by far.” She replied back just as breathlessly. Han made a pleased sounding growl deep in his throat, and moments later she was whisked up into his strong arms, being carried back into their private bedchamber, her soft laughter sweet music to his ears.

No. She couldn't - and wouldn’t - give this man up. Not ever. And she thanked the Force, the stars, and anything else that would listen to her, that they’d found one another in the vastness of the galaxy. 

Because their love was fated. It was destiny. 

It was the will of the Force. 

And for Leia, that was the best reason of all to indulge in this very special second honeymoon.

[providentially-demonic]

Miraculous Mystery Skulls: Chapter Nine

First Arc: a Spellcaster, a Ghost and a Mechanic walk into a bar Paris

Summary: On their honeymoon in Paris, the City of Lights, the trio of Vivi, Lewis and Arthur encounter more than sightseeing… in the form of monsters, supervillains and a pair of teen superheroes. Sometimes, miraculous things can happen, when you least expect it.

(A Mystery Skulls/Miraculous Ladybug crossover event)

A/N: This all started with this fic by @phantoms-lair and the silly idea of them running into Chat Noir and Ladybug while there. It grew…

It’s a tale of heroes, miraculous, found family and more (with a healthy dose of puns). Co-created and written with assistance from @phantoms-lair, so she deserves some of the credit and a lot of the blame! :P

As a reminder: This was written pre-season three. It follows canon until about mid-season two, where it veers wildly AU. As such, things that happened in season three are not compliant to the canon of this tale.

Back to Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: A Disaster in the Making

Renewed screams filled the air over the ceaseless grinding of stone. Marinette clung grimly to Alya as the earth shook itself apart again. The rumble of stone, the groans of overstressed metal and the shrieks of both people and alarms filled all her senses, a cacophony of destruction.

And then it was over, the groaning of the ground in pain subsiding into silence. The screams continued, but even those were tapering off. This time Alya did not stop her from rising to her feet. The ground felt unsteady under her, and it took her a moment to realize her legs were shaking with fear and adrenaline. “We— we’ve never had an earthquake like that here!”

Ayla shook her head. “They’re not normal for here. We lived through a few before we moved to Paris, but—” She gazed at the destruction, her hands clenched into fists. “I— I need to go. The twins are probably terrified. I don’t know if Nora will be able to calm them down.” She jumped a foot in the air with a squeal of fright as her phone warbled in her pocket. Fumbling, she pulled it out. “Mama! Are you okay?”

Marinette could just hear the reply. “I’m fine, love, the Hotel barely even trembled. But the zoo animals are in a panic and your father will likely be there all night. I need you to run home and check on Nora and the girls, please.” There was very real worry in her voice. “Nora’s not answering her phone.”

“I was just about to head there.” After saying goodbye to her mother, Alya stuffed her phone back in her pocket. “I gotta go, Marinette, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Marinette patted her shoulder. “I need to go check on Mama and Papa at the bakery too. Be careful.”

“You too!”

Marinette darted away to find a place to transform. While she couldn't be sure this was an Akuma attack, there were things she could do as Ladybug that she couldn't as Marinette. Finding a place in an alley, she called her Mother's cell phone.

It had barely rung before Sabine's relieved voice answered. "Marinette! Are you okay?"

"Fine, Mama, really. Are you and Papa okay?"

"We are. A little shaken up and one of the display cases cracked, but nothing major. Your father is in the basement cutting off the gas just in case. Where are you?"

"With Alya," Marinette assured her. "She's worried about the twins and can't get hold of Nora so she's headed there."

"Be careful, please. There could be more aftershocks and..."

"I will, Mama."

~~~~

“Help me, please.” The cry was weak, but Ladybug heard it and turned on her heel. The street had suffered from the earthquake, parts of it rucked up like crumpled paper, and some parts sinking from subsidence. The plea came from near one of the cars that had slid sideways and sunk as the earth under it had done as well. She rushed over, to find a young man on the broken curb, obviously having fallen during the disturbance of the earth. He was half under the car, unable to free himself with the weight of the car pinning him in place.

Crouching by his side, Ladybug assessed the situation. “Hang on,” she soothed. “I’ll get you out of there.”

His nod was trusting. Ladybug rose to her feet and went to the nearest lamppost, testing its stability. Satisfied that it would hold, she looped the string of her yoyo over it and, mentally glad that she had inherited her mother’s slim build, squirmed as much of her upper body under the car until she could touch the pinned man. She pressed her yoyo into his hand. “When I come back around to your side, pass this back to me.”

���Okay.”

Eeling back out, she returned to his side, where he painfully worked the arm with the yoyo out from under the car. Pinned as he was, he couldn’t get it free of the curb entirely, but she was able to reach it. With one last reassuring smile, she left him to loop the yoyo string carefully around the post of the light. Taking a deep breath, she threw her weight against it. It moved, and encouraged, she redoubled her efforts.

With a groan of overstressed metal, the car shifted. She was about to try and reach a broken fence to anchor her string when a familiar voice called out, “Hold it steady, Milady. I’ve got him.”

Relieved, she maintained tension on the string until Chat’s cheerful voice assured her that he had gotten the victim free. Breathing a relieved sigh, she let go the tension on the string and tried to massage the ache in her fingers away. Retracting the yoyo, she hurried to Chat’s side. He had already gotten the man’s cell phone out and was calling emergency services.

She leaned close enough to listen, hearing the operator’s assurances that they would have an ambulance dispatched very soon. He also confided that while damages were extensive, casualties from the shake had been surprisingly light.

Chat shook his head, but only thanked the dispatcher and gave the phone back to the injured man so he could tell the dispatcher about his injuries.

When they were out of earshot of the injured man, Ladybug put a hand on Chat’s bicep. “What is it?”

He cocked his head to the left. “I came from that way. Three streets over, there’s zero damage. The closer I came this way, the more damage there is.” He pointed up the street. “When I was vaulting this way, I could see a lot of the damage, It gets worse, that direction.”

Ladybug nodded. “Then that’s the way we go.”

Chat slipped an arm around her waist and vaulted them both up to the top of the nearest tall building, pointing at the swatch of destruction. “Pretty sure that’s not normal for an earthquake, Milady.”

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Ladybug shook her head grimly. From this high up, she could see a clear delineation, a line where on one side were damaged, listing buildings and plumes of smoke from fires, but on the other, nothing... no sign of damage at all. She tracked the line of destruction, noting Chat’s observations were right. Flinging her yoyo, she took off for the area where the destruction worsened. Chat was right on her heels.

They had barely gone two blocks when a voice frantically hailed them. A familiar one!

Nadja Chamak stood on a corner, a frightened Manon balanced on her hip and tucked tightly against her side. Nadja had only one shoe on, her stockings were in tatters, and her smart black skirt was ripped high up on her thigh, showing a bloody welt. One cheek was scraped badly and Manon was trying her best to hold a wad of tissue to her mother’s cheek while tears ran down her own.

Little Manon was powdered with dust and both her knees were scraped and bruised. Fat tears poured down her cheeks and she was biting her bottom lip as she struggled to staunch the blood seeping from her mother’s badly scratched cheek.

Ladybug dropped down to the pavement. “Ms. Chamak! Are you badly hurt?”

Nadja shook her head, earning a sniffle from Manon as fresh blood seeped when she moved. “Don’t worry about me! You have to get to the studio! It’s Gerard! My cameraman— he— he was arguing with one of the producers about all news crews needing additional hazard pay for Akuma attacks. They said no, that you always fixed things, and he got mad. He stormed away and I followed him as far as the bathroom door. I— I saw the butterfly go after him. He’s calling himself Disaster Caster now. He’s the one that caused the earthquake!”

Ladybug nodded. “Chat, get Ms. Chamak and Manon over to where the ambulance should be and get them taken care of. Then meet me at the studio.”

“Your wish is my command, Milady. Will you—” He hesitated, glancing at the reporter. “Will you call in reinforcements?”

She didn’t want to, not with the memory of last night clear in her mind, but she nodded. “We might need them. Ms. Chamak, I know you want to be on the scene, but you’re already hurt and Manon needs you, so please go with Chat.”

Nadja held her daughter tighter. “I’m not going to fight you on this one. Manon comes first.” She wobbled over to Chat, making it clear it was only pure will that had kept her on her feet so long and Chat slid his arm around her waist, preparing to vault back the way they had come.

Nadja hesitated and looked back at Ladybug. “Just help Gerard. It’s not his fault. He really was trying to help all of us.”

“I know.” Ladybug hastened to reassure. “We’ll help him, I promise.”

Nadja nodded and wrapped her free arm around Chat’s shoulders. He nodded at Ladybug and vaulted the three of them back the way they had come. The last thing she heard was his voice reassuring Manon that they’d get her mom fixed right up. Drawing a deep breath, she sent off a quick text to Vivi before heading for the studio at the center of the destruction.

The newly dubbed Disaster Caster was hard to miss. He stood perched on a massive spar of rebar that jutted a good ten feet above the buckled pavement, whatever he had been wearing before now transformed into a form-fitting suit of bright silver and black. His face was covered by a mirrored visor in an oddly-shaped helmet, one that seemed far larger than it should be, and he wore something on his back that resembled nothing so much as a backpack made of gleaming metal to match his suit.

He stared wordlessly down at a gaggle of battered studio executives huddled together in the ruins of the studio’s lobby, their sleek, high-end suits in ragged tatters. All of them were bloody and bruised, looking more like the losing end of a prizefight than high-powered television executives.

Ladybug landed silently on the roof of an only slightly lop-sided building, studying the situation. A soft thump on the roof behind her let her know her partner had made good time in returning to her side. “”What are we looking at, milady?”

“He’s got a group trapped in the rubble. He’s not making any move to hurt them any more than they already are, but I’m afraid that’ll only last so long. Especially if one of them says something to inflame his anger.” She reported quietly, watching for one of the hostages to do something to draw Disaster Caster’s wrath.

Suddenly, that mirrored visor turned their way. “And the main attraction has arrived,” said a mechanical sounding voice. “Going to save the day and fix everything, just like you always do? I rather think not.”

Suddenly the reason for the odd shape of his helmet became all too clear, as thin cracks opened in neat rows along the sides, a dozen spindly metal limbs folding out, and out, each one ending in a glassy looking bezel that it took her a moment to place. Lenses. Each of the metal arms ended in a tiny camera. The effect was rather disturbing, like a massive spider centered on that blank mirrored visor, perched where a human head should be.

Beside her, Chat briefly convulsed in a full-body shiver. “Okay, is it just me or are Hawkmoth’s Akumas getting creepier?”

He wasn’t wrong. Disaster Caster was like something out of a nightmare, far scarier looking than most Akuma. The camera arms whirred and clicked, stretching out further.

“Nevermind those who get hurt in your fights. No need, after all, not when you can wash the hurts away in a tide of ladybugs.” Disaster Caster said, the robotic voice never rising above a conversational monotone. “Maybe it’s time you suffer some of those hurts, see how they feel, and I’ll broadcast your suffering to the whole city.”

A darkly glowing butterfly symbol briefly obscured part of that mirrored visor. “I agree, Hawkmoth. I’ll take their miraculouses and let them understand the pain they inflict upon the citizens of Paris.” He lifted one hand, and a spidery arm reached from the backpack to deposit something in his palm.

“Oh, yes,” Ladybug could hear the sudden smile in Disaster Caster’s voice. “That will do nicely. I’ll flood the airwaves with your defeat.” He crushed whatever it was in his hand.

“We’re shaking, Chrome Cast,” Chat laughed. “Is that supposed to sca—”

His voice was drowned out by a wall of water roaring towards them. Cars, people, trees, bits of buildings were all swept up in the surging, frothing monster bearing down on where they stood. The wave was taller than the roof of their building, blocking out the Parisian skyline and throwing the whole area into murky green gloom.

Chat’s ears flattened and he grabbed Ladybug by the waist and extended his baton as far as it would go, aiming for the higher roof of the studio. He almost made it.

The water crashed against his baton, slamming it sideways. For a moment there was only the breathless sensation of falling. Then Ladybug’s yoyo snapped out and wrapped around one of the satellites on the roof and yanked them out of range of the maelstrom that surged below.

Ladybug’s breath was harsh in her throat and she was shaking when they landed. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the frothing waters below and the helpless bodies tumbling in it. “No...”

Chat’s hand caught her cheek and gently turned her to face him. “Focus, Milady. The sooner we defeat him, the sooner you can save everyone!”

She sucked in a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “R-right.” She straightened up and searched for the Akuma. Several of those spidery metallic legs had extended from Disaster Caster’s backpack and held him motionless against the wall of a building, separated from their position by a wide swath of murky, tumbling water.

Chat crouched beside her on the edge of the building, glaring across at their opponent. “I’m going to bet the Akuma is in that backpack thing of his.”

“Not going to bet against you, kitty.” Ladybug frowned at the distance between them. “The question is how do we get close enough to find out?”

Chat gave her a sharp-toothed grin that was a pale shadow of his usual teasing one. “Up for a game of catball special?”

She turned her frown on Chat. “I’m not chucking you at him!”

“Better me than you, Milady.”

“Better neither of you when you know someone who can actually fly.” The voice came from behind them. Lewis hovered just above the roof they perched on, Vivi and Arthur held in either arm.

He alighted to let the two in his arms down.

Ladybug couldn’t help a critical look at Arthur. He looked haggard under the mask, but there was a set to his mouth that told her he’d never agree to sitting things out, not while his spouses were here.

Chat obviously wanted to ask if he was alright, but held his tongue at the look on Arthur’s face.

“He’s calling himself Disaster Caster,” Ladybug reported instead of the concerned words that wanted to escape. “It’s an accurate enough name, since he’s the one who caused the earthquake and—” her voice shook a little. “This.”

Vivi was already peering over the edge of the building at the Akumatized man. “Elemental manipulation?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it that,” Arthur put in, staying well clear of where his wife leaned precariously over the balustrade. “I’d hesitate to call any of Hawkmoth’s creations anything so normal.”

“Good point.” Vivi frowned down at Disaster Caster. “Those are cameras, is he filming?”

“Probably,” Chat joined her at the edge of the roof. “He was a news crew cameraman before he got Akumatized for wanting better pay for hazardous working conditions... aka during Akuma attacks.”

“That’s a fair request.” Lewis said. Like Arthur, he stayed back from the edge. “I take it his higher-ups didn’t agree.”

“RIght on the money.” Chat agreed. “We think the Akuma is in his backpack. It’s where he got whatever it was he used to create this flood.”

There was a suggestion of a smile in Lewis’s voice. “It’s probably not fireproof.” He held up one bone-plated hand, wreathed in purple flames.

“Easy there, big guy,” Arthur held up his metal hand. “Hawkmoth has seen your fire, so there’s every chance it will be. Even if it’s not fireproof, look at what he’s done already. No shortage of water to damp the fire.”

“Heads up!” Vivi called. “He’s on the move!”

Ladybug joined Vivi and Chat at the railing. Disaster Caster was spidering up the side of the building across from them, those thin metal legs from his backpack finding purchase easily. He lifted a hand to his visor and all at once, the lenses at the end of each limb of his helmet dropped loose, tumbling toward the frothing water below. Before they reached it, though, each suddenly sprouted a pair of dragonfly-like wings, lifting them high above the buildings. Two of them zeroed in on the roof where they stood, hovering above them like bizarre metallic insects.

“There you are.”

They backed away from the edge, keeping their eyes on the little cameras.

“”No getting away from being broadcast to all of Paris, Ladybug. They don’t want to miss this. It’ll be a hail of a bad time for you, though.”

On cue, clouds filled the sky, rumbling and malignant. Coin-sized bits of ice began to rain down on them.

“Really?” Chat asked, propping one hand on his hip and grinning ferally up at one of the cameras. “Puns are my department.”

“Not the time, kitty!” Ladybug chided.

As if in response, the chunks of ice kept getting larger, hitting hard enough to bounce and leave dents in the roof.  Lewis flung up a shield of flames, shrouding them in hissing steam as the hailstones met the fire.

Vivi chortled evilly, stepping out of the shelter of the flames. “You really are a disaster, aren’t you? Giving a master of ice, ammunition.” She held up both hands, palms upward. “To use against you...”

Ladybug watched in awe as the falling ice chunks, now the size of softballs, stopped in midair.

Vivi, still smiling a dangerous smile, tipped her hands forward, pointing them down at the Akuma. “Sic ‘em!”

The ice streaked away from them, heading for Disaster Caster. Two pieces hit him before he got his wits about him and slapped at the side of his visor. Like a mirage, the roil of clouds and the hailstones vanished.

“Aww, doncha wanna play with me anymore? I’m hurt.”

"Hon, what have we said about antagonizing the bad guys?" Lewis chided.

"That I should do it more often?"

Chat stifled a laugh while Lewis rolled spectral eyes at Vivi's antics.

"I do not want to fight you. It is Ladybug and Chat Noir who need to understand the suffering they cause to the citizens of Paris." Disaster Caster, now perched on the rooftop opposite them, stared at them through the expressionless visor.

"Um, have you looked around lately, bucko?" Vivi retorted. "Your mental parasite over there is the one creating the suffering."

Hawkmoth's glowing mask occluded Disaster Caster's visor for a moment. "If you would simply hand over your Miraculous, no one would have to suffer at all."  Disaster Caster said after it had faded.

"Like anyone is going to buy that." Vivi grinned, as fey an expression as Ladybug had ever seen. "And you pick on one of us and you get all of us coming to hand you your ass. Hear me, Hawkbutt?"

Her reply was Disaster Caster calling another object from his pack. He crushed it in his fist. “Let’s blow the slate clean, shall we?”

For a second, there was nothing, then an eerie sound split the air, one she couldn’t identify but  that instinctively set Ladybug’s teeth on edge.

Arthur was the first to react, shoving Ladybug and Chat Noir closer to Lewis. “Down!” Under his mask, his face was grim and bloodless. Vivi was right behind him, her lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

Lewis’s glowing eyes had narrowed to pinpricks and he put himself between them and the meager shelter of a doorway into the building below. "͜͜S̶̨t͏a̷̸̧y͟͞ ̵D̷̨̡ǫ̵w͘n̕!̨"͢  Lewis growled, hands clenched into burning fists at his sides. His glowing hair flickered at the first touch of a wind that quickly rose to a shrill scream.

Ladybug clutched Chat’s arm. She’d never seen anything like the massive vortex of wind screaming down at them, greenish lightning crackling where it emerged from the black clouds; lighting the rooftop in a hellish glare.

Lewis braced himself, flames curling around his hands like a living thing. Pink fire surged around them, rising into a vortex that ran counter to the spinning winds of the tornado. Lewis’s feet slid apart and he leaned forward, like he was throwing his weight into something. Ladybug thought if he’d had a jaw, it would have been clenched in concentration. He pushed his hands out and the fiery shield around them expanded, pushing back at the wall of wind. "Ai̡r̕ ̧f̴ę́͞è̵͡ds͟ ͘͞f̢͢͞i͢͝r͏e͡,̸̧͢"҉   he snarled, flames surging higher.

Ladybug’s relief was short-lived when Chat’s claws dug into her wrist. She followed the gaze of his widened eyes to where the bottom of the funnel nearly touched the water still surrounding the building. Water to put out Lewis's protective wall! Hoping it would be something she could figure out in seconds, Ladybug flung her yoyo upwards. “Lucky Charm!”

A red-spotted crossbow, foam-ended dart already nocked into place, dropped into her waiting hands. “Really?” She glared down at the useless thing, fingers tightening almost painfully around it. “What am I supposed to do with a toy?! Even if it could get through the winds, what’s this gonna do?” She almost screamed with frustration, strangling down the sound before it could escape.

“Ladylove, you can do this.” Chat reassured quietly in her ear, his hands tight around her shoulders. “You know you can.”

Gulping a painful breath, she nodded, forcing herself to look around for inspiration. Her attention fell on Lewis, holding the shrieking winds at bay and her resolve strengthened. Her gaze darted to Arthur, then to the right, alighting on a length of hollow steel pipe torn loose from its mooring, and then across the wall of winds at Disaster Caster. Her eyes fastened on the small scratch on his visor. It was desperate and foolish, and if it didn’t work, she was all out of options. “Chat, I need that pipe. Arthur, how’s your throwing arm?”

Chat scrambled for the long pipe while Arthur shot her a confused look. “Not too bad. My mechanical arm has fluid hydraulics, so I can get a pretty good distance with it. But throwing anything into that...” He gestured helplessly at the howling winds,

She forced her spine to straighten. “I have a plan.”

Chat returned with the pipe and she passed it to Arthur, who hefted it uncertainly. “What’s the plan?” he asked.

She turned her attention to Lewis. “I need height for this. Can I use your shoulders?”

Lewis didn’t turn his attention from the struggle to hold the line, giving Ladybug a single, tight nod.

She vaulted easily up to his shoulders, finding her balance on the broad expanse. Crouching, she spoke softly to Lewis. “Trust me.”

One lambent eye flickered in her direction and he gave her a second nod.

“When I give the word, drop the shield and give me one solid blast,” She flicked a finger in the direction of Disaster Caster. “I need you to disrupt the winds just enough for Arthur to chuck that pipe.”

Lewis’s gaze touched on Arthur and Vivi. “I’m trusting you to keep them safe.” His tone lost that echo and was full of concern. “And yourselves.”

She couldn’t let any doubt show. ”I will.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ladybug saw the water being sucked into the bottom of the funnel and knew her time had just run out. “Now!”

Lewis dropped the swirling fire shield, wind shrieking around them. With every bit of fire he had, he flung a singular inferno blast at the wall of raging wind between them and Disaster Caster.

Arthur didn’t hesitate, launching the pipe like a javelin into the disruption in the winds. It flew straight and true, and Ladybug used Lewis's shoulders to vault into the air, tracking on the pipe. She only had one chance at this and she didn’t dare blow it. Her whole world narrowed to the pipe in front of her and the trigger in her hands. She could almost sense when the end of the pipe punched through the outer wall of wind. In a moment of crystal clarity, it all snapped into place and she pulled the trigger.

The dart sailed through the pipe, safe from the fury of the winds and exited beyond the gale. It hit just where she had aimed, that tiny mark she had seen Disaster Caster slap before. The tornado vortex vanished like the hailstorm before it.

The silence was deafening after the scream of the winds until bits of debris that had been caught in the gale began to clatter back down, hitting rooftops or splashing into the receding surge of water the vortex had begun to draw up.  Ladybug landed softly beside Lewis, the lucky charm dangling loosely in shaking fingers.

Vivi whooped and yanked Arthur and Chat into a hug.

Lewis went to one knee, his flames dimming and Ladybug knew the battle had drained too much of his energy. She dropped beside him. “Are you—?”

There was a hint of a smile in his strange eyes. “I’ll manage. Can you get to him before he calls up something else?”

“Right.” Ladybug threw herself for the edge of the roof, her yoyo stretching out for purchase on the other building. She was acutely conscious she only had limited time left before her transformation dropped.

Disaster Caster was waiting for her, perched on the side of a chimney like some sort of twisted spider. Her feet hit the roof and she flung herself at him, hoping she could finish this quickly. He easily scaled higher before she could reach him.

She never saw it coming. Suddenly pain exploded across her side, flinging her to the tiles. A second impact flung her farther and she rolled to soften the impact, scrabbling for her scattered wits. She made it to cover behind a broken staircase, pressing one hand against the ache in her side. Her suit protected her from the worst of it, but that had hurt!

What had hit her? Disaster Caster had been too far away to reach her, even with those long spidery legs.

There was a thump beside her and Chat grabbed her, yanking her to one side. “Look out, Milady!” His baton whirred through the air to knock something small and fast back.

Ladybug finally managed to bring her yoyo up as a shield, allowing her a glimpse at what had attacked her. Those little spy cameras! They hovered around her and Chat like a swarm of angry metallic hornets.

Chat blocked one with his baton and growled under his breath. “He’s getting away.”

Sure enough, Disaster Caster was using the distraction of the drone cameras to scramble away over the rooftops, moving far too fast on those spindly metal legs. Ladybug knocked two of the cameras back and took off after him, Chat hot on her heels, and covering her back with swings of his baton. Her earrings beeped their first warning and she pushed her speed, trying to catch up to him before she ran out of time.

The spy-cameras regrouped in front of them, buzzing down in lightning fast attacks and forcing them to slow and dodge. The little cameras were damnably fast and every hit they scored stung fiercely. Disaster Caster kept getting farther away with every attack and Ladybug’s earring beeped two more warnings before she lost sight of him entirely. She paused in the shelter of a staircase, panting and furious at herself for being unable to reach him. Chat landed beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, warning softly, “Ladylove, we have to get you away from here so you can detransform safely and let Tikki recharge!”

“But—” she protested angrily.

“Shhh. As soon as we get you safely away from those things, I’ll get back on his track. I haven’t used Cataclysm yet, so I have time still. At the very least, I’m a purr-fect distraction.” His grinned at her, raising an eyebrow.

The familiarity of his joking dragged a weak laugh out of her. “Okay, Kitty. You win.”

Turning away from the direction Disaster Caster had gone, she flung out her yoyo and headed for a part of the city where she knew there were sheltered rooftop gardens to give her cover while she was vulnerable. Chat followed at a short distance, keeping watch for the cameras, which seemed to have lost interest when she stopped chasing after their master.

At the last second she landed, tumbling a little as her transformation gave out before she was safely down. She wrapped herself around Tikki, willing to take a bruise of two for the sake of her Kwami.

Chat caught her before she hit, a warm arm around her waist stopping her from faceplanting on the roof. Still cradling Tikki, she looked up into his concerned green eyes. “I’m okay, Kitty.”

He nodded and pulled her against his chest, Tikki tucked safely between them. “Get out of sight and take care of Tikki. I’ll stay on his trail.” He pulled her into the shelter of a vine-covered arbor.

She freed one hand and reached up to cup his cheek. “Be careful, my kitty. I’m pretty sure he still has tricks up his sleeves.”

Chat leaned into her touch. “Don’t worry about me, princess. This cat still has tricks of his own.” He bent to steal a breathtaking kiss, leaving her flushed and red. Dropping a second kiss on the tip of her nose, he saluted with two fingers and leapt away.

Still blushing, Marinette dug in her purse for cookies for Tikki. The quicker they recharged, the faster they could take down Disaster Caster.

Her phone chirped a message and she fumbled for it.  Who—?

V: Where are you two?

Vivi! Marinette hurried to type back. CN still on DC’s trail. LB had to recharge. Will be back in game soon.

It was safest to not use names or refer to anything too personal. There was always a chance of another electronics based Akuma, like Lady Wifi, could get into personal info through phones. Her communicator amd Chat’s were secure but she could trust nothing else to be. But sometimes concern won out over caution. How is Ghost? She tapped out, knowing Vivi would know who she meant. Fight took a lot out of them.

The dots that indicated typing popped up almost before she had finished. Recouping. Will be back in fight soon too. F and UKS on foot now that floodwaters gone. Z is eyes in the sky.

It took Marinette a solid minute to parse it out. Oh, F had to mean Vivi and the temporary name of Frost she had given herself and UKS had to be Arthur and his pun of a name. Zippi was acting as lookout.

Stay safe, she texted back, and glanced over at where Tikki was finishing off the last few bites of a cookie that had been larger than she was. Tikki wiped crumbs off her face and nodded. Relieved she could get back out there, Marinette called the magic, and took off after her partner as fast as her yoyo would carry her.

She heard the fight before she saw it, and her heart crawled up in her throat. She knew that sound. Knew it too well. It had nearly cost her Chat Noir once before, that crackle of unharnessed electricity and the roar of superheated air that followed so closely after it that it was almost a single continuous sound.  The hair on the back of her neck stood up and the smell of ionized air stuck in the back of her throat like ash.

It had only been her Lucky Charm that had kept lightning from frying her kitty before and right now, he was on his own against an electrical storm that lit the sky with dazzling radiance. Her blood ran cold. She needed to get to him before—

The air screamed. A bolt of lightning, brighter than any she had seen before, tore the sky asunder. The roar that followed vibrated her teeth in her skull, and caused the roof under her flying feet to tremble.

She pushed herself faster. Please, she prayed under her breath. Please, please, please don’t use your baton, Kitty. The metal would act as a conductor, carrying millions of volts straight into her partner’s flesh.

She didn’t see it coming. Something scorched the roof under her feet and brutally threw her back. She collided hard with a railing and nearly went over it before a clawed hand closed painfully tight around her wrist and yanked her back to safety against a heaving chest. “That was rather electrifying, Milady!”

“Chat,” She could breathe again. Her hands came up to clutch his biceps, digging in hard enough to reassure herself that he was there, was okay. And then she threw both of them into a tumbling roll across the roof, as lightning seared where they had been black.

Chat bounced to his feet, tugging her up after him. “Shocking development, you falling for me.”

She whipped them around and out of the way of another finger of lightning that blistered the tiles where they had just been. “Is this really the time?”

He grinned, dropping to all fours and darting a crazy, zig-zagging path across the roof, flickers of lightning splintering all around him, but unable to catch him. “C’mon, Milady! I am amped for this lightshow! I have a full volt of puns.” he teased breathlessly. “Let me conduct a few your way!”

She snorted at him, and bounced away from a bolt that arced over the rail where she had just been perched. “Just no grounding you, is there, Kitty?”

His green eyes glittered and Chat barked a startled, delighted laugh. He sprang for her and whirled them both out of the path of another volley of lightning. “I knew my puns would rub off on you, Milady!”

Ladybug wrapped her arm around his waist and used her yoyo to vault them to another roof. “Oh, now that was bad, Chat!”

“Have no ampere, my Lady. I have zingers for days!” Chat leapt away from her, his voice turning taunting. “Watt’s the matter, Caster? You currently running out of juice? What a kilo-joy!”

“Aren’t you just full of spark, kid?” A laughing voice called.

Ladybug whipped her head around. Lewis, Arthur and Vivi in either arm, hovered just above the level of the roof. He looked a little transparent, but his fiery eyes were full of determination.

Lewis had to dodge a bolt a split-second later, and shot a vicious glare at where Disaster Caster was perched on a different roof. “He’s really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Not terribly shocked, big guy,” Arthur chided while Vivi giggled softly. “It’s a bit of a revolting development.”

“Don’t make me drop you.”

Chat snickered.

Lewis came in close, though he didn’t land. “We need to take the storm out of play,” Arthur said. “I have an idea for that, but it’ll only hold until he switches tacks.”

Ladybug skipped away from another finger of lightning. “Willing to risk it. I’m not fond of the idea of getting electrocuted.”

Arthur’s mouth set in a firm line. “Okay. new game plan. Big guy, find a sheltered spot to put me down. Ladybug, Chat, keep playing keep away from the lightning. I’ll need to borrow Chat’s baton, though.”

If a ghost could be said to go pale, Lewis managed it, his skeletal face horror-stricken. “No—!”

“Not time for debate, love,” Arthur’s grim face and raised hand stopped the protest. “As long as I’m not in the direct line of fire, I’ll be okay, Rubber-soled shoes. Handy in a garage, invaluable in the here and now.”

“Ar—” Ladybug cut herself off. “It’s dangerous, even so. You can’t dodge the lightning like Chat and I.”

The laugh that answered her was humorless. “Trust me, I’m a shaking wreck inside, but I can have a panic attack later.” His amber eyes met hers through the mask, fey and sending a shiver down her spine. “Protecting people I care for comes before anything else.” He turned his head away, focusing that unnerving look on Lewis. “How you holding up? Good enough to conjure up something?”

“What do you need?” Lewis’s voice was flat with only a hint of that disturbing otherness to give away his distress.

“Copper wire, as much as you can manage.”

“You can’t ground out an electrical storm!” Vivi grabbed the front of Arthur’s shirt, white-knuckled.

Arthur carefully disengaged her fingers. “No, but I can ground out enough of the lightning to give us a chance to get through.”

“I don’t like this plan.”

“Join the club.”

Another volley of lightning hit the rooftop, forcing them all to dodge.

“No time like the present, big guy,” Arthur’s voice was strained.

Chat hissed but turned his attention to mocking the Akuma, “Your bad aim is shocking. You aren’t even trying! Really are a disaster, aren’t you?”

He had to move fast to avoid the next round of lightning.

Her eyes on Chat, as usual, trying to take blows for her, Ladybug lost sight of the other three.

For several moments, there was no room for thought, only the need to keep one jump ahead of the deadly bolts searing the roofs around them.

“Baton!” Arthur’s voice shouted from somewhere to her left.

Chat’s baton went one way and he went the other, only just managing to let go of the metal before lightning found them both.

The baton skittered away across the roof tiles, sparking with residual energy from the strike. Ladybug heard Arthur cursing under his breath, but had no attention to spare for him as she yanked Chat out of the way of another strike that came so close she could feel her hair standing on end. The suits could protect them somewhat, but she wasn’t willing to find out the extent.

Ladybug rolled them out of the path of another strike, this one arcing along the railing beside them, leaving the metal twisted and warped in its wake.

Ladybug yelped and struck out violently when something touched her arm. She twisted and found herself looking into the mournful yellow eyes of a deadbeat. It chirred softly and vanished. She felt it ease into her mind— but it wasn’t trying to control her. Images came into her thoughts of her own hands winding wire around a part of the building’s superstructure, making sure the wire was in contact with the metal supports. She saw the baton extended, channeling the lightning into the building’s metal structure and away from them, giving them the chance to get to Disaster Caster before he could change tactics.

It was a sound plan, even if she didn’t like how much danger Arthur was putting himself in to give them the chance.  She got a sense of wry agreement from the deadbeat and an image of Lewis standing by to yank him out of danger. That eased her worries a bit and she gave her wordless assent to the plan. She felt the deadbeat leave and found herself staring into the worried eyes of Chat, who had pulled them into the shelter of a satellite dish. “Milady?” he questioned warily. “Your eyes, they were pink!”

She touched his cheek. “I’m okay, Kitty. Lewis was letting me know Arthur’s plan through one of the deadbeats,” She peered out past the edge of the dish and spotted the coil of wire on the roof, not far away. “I need you to be on your toes and keep moving so Disaster Caster doesn’t have a chance to concentrate on me.”

Chat Noir shook himself a little before nodding. “You needn’t ask twice, Milady. I can be the purr-fect distraction, like I said.”

Ladybug smiled at him. “I know. I trust you. Just keep safe, my kitten.”

The smile he flashed her was bright. “On my honor.”

He bounded away, catcalling up at Disaster Caster. Ladybug had to look away from the streaks of white-hot electricity tearing up the roof barely a breath behind him. When Disaster Caster had turned all his attention (and that of his electrical storm) on Chat, she crept out of hiding, tucking and rolling to come up with the coil of copper wire in her hands. She muttered a soft prayer to anything that might be listening, be they Kwami or something else, to keep everyone safe and sprang into action.

With her yoyo, it was a matter of moments to wind the wire around the building, at last landing by a spot where the near-constant lightning strikes had bared a large chunk of the building’s metal superstructure. She eeled into the rubble and began working her wire around and around the steel rebar.

She could hear Chat’s mocking and the roar of superheated air and it was all she could do to keep her mind on the task at hand. At last she twisted the final coil of the wire into place. Ladybug pulled herself free of the debris and flung her yoyo. She had to be in the air and ready when it went down. “Now!” she called, her voice barely audible above the roar of thunder.

Arthur must have been waiting for it. Chat’s baton speared up into the stormy sky and the lightning jumped to it like iron filings to a magnet. Ladybug yanked hard on her string and sailed into the air, snagging up a panting Chat Noir as she did. She didn’t dare look for the others, hoping Lewis had gotten them safely out of the way. She had to stop Disaster Caster.

He was already moving, but she was faster, having been waiting for the moment. She launched Chat, who smoothly flipped in mid-air to drive his boots into Disaster Caster’s gut.

Disaster Caster reeled back, only the telescoping legs from his backpack keeping him from going over. Chat snarled in frustration and took a swipe with his claws at Disaster Caster’s mirrored visor. The Akuma wasn’t able to recover fast enough from the kick and Chat’s claws scored thin lines across the surface of the visor.

Ladybug looked up, startled, as the roar of thunder ceased, leaving her ears ringing with the cessation of the constant sound.  Only a few wisps of cloud remained in the clearing sky. Chat’s attack had taken out the threat of the storm.

Disaster Caster staggered back another step, but one of his metal legs lashed out and hit Chat hard in the ribs, flinging him back. Chat landed in a crouch, but he was out of breath and pressed an arm across his ribs with a hiss of pain.

Ladybug swung in between them, her yoyo lashing out and cracking solidly across Disaster Caster’s visor. She rushed to pull Chat back to his feet, concerned at the grimace of pain. “Kitty?”

His grin was lopsided but he straightened up. “I’m okay, Milady. Only winded.”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t miss how he was favoring the spot where he’d been hit.

“He’s a disaster in more ways than one, Milady. I’m still good to go.”

Disaster Caster had used her distraction to get some distance on them, metal legs carrying him like a spider up the side of the next building over. Chat cursed under his breath, words she didn’t think Adrien even knew. “I’ll be honest, Milady, I’m more than ready to be done with this particular pain, though.”

“You and me both, Kitty.” Ladybug narrowed her eyes at the Akuma. “I think I know what we need to do.”

“What you need to do is stop fighting me and give up your miraculous. Then Paris will be safe.” Disaster Caster called.

“No one asked you,” Chat hissed.

“All this fighting is doing is hurting the people you claim to be here to protect.”

“And you think Hawkmoth would do better if he had our miraculous? He’s the one creating all the evil we have to fight against.”

"What if your refusal to give over your miraculous were to hurt someone you cared for?" Disaster Caster said. He raised one hand, palm up, and one of his little spy-cameras alighted in it.

"Wouldn't they be happier knowing you were out of danger and not fighting Akuma?" An image formed in the air above the little drone.  Half hidden in a bower of greenery, it was a frozen tableau of Marinette in Chat's arms, tilting her face up to meet his passionate kiss. Ladybug flinched, though some part of her was objectively glad that Tikki was hidden between them. “Wouldn’t she be happier?” Disaster Caster coaxed.

Chat froze beside her, his green eyes blown so wide they were all pupil. His mouth opened but nothing emerged. Ladybug could feel his muscles vibrating with tension and his hands were clenched so tight she could hear the leather of his gloves creaking. While the fact that Disaster Caster had caught the picture concerned her, Chat’s reaction was more than a little frightening.

Ladybug touched his arm. “Kitty—?”

All that suppressed tension snapped at once and with a feral yowl, Chat flung himself in a mad leap toward Disaster Caster.

"You!" How a word that was all vowels could be hissed, Ladybug didn't know but Chat managed it.

Chat hit the wall next to the Akuma, claws sinking easily into the brick. His lips peeled back from his teeth in an infuriated growl. Ladybug could swear she saw fangs in his snarl.  "How dare you?!"

Ladybug swung after Chat, stunned by the rage she saw in his green eyes. Before she could reach him, he had leapt at Disaster Caster. The Akuma tried to fend him off with two of the spider-like legs from his backpack, but Chat's claws made short work of them, shearing them off with quick swipes.

"How dare you?" he snarled again, his voice dropping to a register she had never heard from his mouth, a feral growl like the scream of a hunting cat.

Ladybug saw his claws crook to strike and for a second they appeared to glimmer with the first hint of his destructive power. The next word out of his mouth was a hissed "Cataclysm!"

His target was Disaster Caster's helmet and his hand hit it so hard it rocked the Akumatized man's head back into the brick wall behind him. Destructive power crawled over the helmet, leaving ash in its wake. A black butterfly fluttered weakly away, wings struggling to keep it airborne.

Ladybug snapped her yoyo out and caught it before it had managed to get very far at all. She purified it without any ceremony, most of her attention still on Chat's enraged face.

He was breathing hard, struggling to calm himself, she could tell. His claws still hovered millimeters from Disaster Caster's now bare face.

"Kitten?" She called softly.

The tension went out of him and he dropped away from the former Akuma like a marionette with cut strings. She hurriedly caught him out of the air.

His breath was hot against her throat as he whispered so softly she could barely hear him. "I'm sorry."

It was with relief she saw Lewis catch the dazed man who had been one of their toughest battles ever.  Lewis gathered him up in one arm. "I'll take him down to street level so the first responders can help him."

"Who...?" The confused man squinted at Lewis's skeletal face.

"A friend," Lewis soothed. "Let’s get you down where you'll be safe."

Ladybug nodded in acknowledgement of Lewis's words, but all her attention was on her partner. She dropped them back down to the roof. "Kitty, tell me what's wrong. Please."

He looked up at her, green eyes full of pain, and not because of his injuries. "Just fix everything, Milady. Maybe..."

Whatever it was, she could do no less for him. It was a rare thing to summon her Lucky Charm in the aftermath of a fight, but she didn't hesitate. The charm that dropped into her hand was a handkerchief, and she really didn't want to think about the meaning of that. She gently used it to wipe Chat's sweating face before tossing it up in the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

The swarm of ladybugs was larger by far than ever before, but this time there was so much damage to undo. She watched damaged structures right themselves and buckled streets smooth out. The lightning-torn roof around them reformed, and she felt the tickle as they swirled around her and Chat, healing injuries in their wake. A pair of glasses chinked softly to the tiles, the object the Akuma had infected.

"I'll never get tired of seeing that!" Vivi said softly, hanging over the railing to watch the city being restored.

Chat watched the magic of the Miraculous Cure sweep away the damages, his expression a sort of troubled yearning. When the last of the ladybugs had vanished, he rose and padded to his baton, now lying discarded on the roof, pausing to unwrap the copper wire from one end. He slid the screen open and began tapping. With one last tap, he took a deep breath before starting to read what was on the screen. Whatever it was made his face fall with every swipe of his thumb.

Ladybug rose to her feet and trotted to his side, curious and concerned. “Kitty?”

He slid the screen closed and turned to draw her into a fiercely tight hug. “I am so, so sorry, Ladylove.”

“Chat...” She didn’t understand what had him so troubled. “Tikki, spots off,” she breathed, and reached up to cup his cheeks with bare hands, hoping skin to skin contact could offer some comfort.

He pressed into her touch, a rough, stuttering purr starting in his throat. It wasn’t a happy sound, but the kind of sound a sick cat made to soothe itself. She hated to hear it from him.

Marinette went up on her toes to press a kiss on his forehead. Chat sighed heavily, his arms tightening around her waist.

In her purse, her phone began to let out a long series of chirps, both missed call notifications and text tones. Marinette tried to ignore it, more concerned about Chat and his distress. At least until Tikki dived into her bag and pulled out the phone. The Kwami’s overlarge eyes widened and she made an alarmed sound. “Marinette, I think you should look at this.”

“Not now, Tikki.” Marinette pled. She hated to ignore her Kwami but at the moment, her love needed her more.

Tikki made a frustrated sound.

Chat heaved another sigh and pushed her away gently. His eyes were damp and the hurt in them made her heart ache. She reached out for him, but he caught her hands. “I never wanted this for you.” He accepted the phone from Tikki and closed her fingers around it.

“Chat...”

“I am so sorry, Princess.”

“What for—?”

“Forgetting that a black cat is bad luck.” He tapped a claw on her phone and without her willing it, her eyes tracked down to it.

Her homescreen was absolutely filled with notifications. Twenty-four missed calls? And the text notifications numbered more than fifty. What—?

She unlocked the phone, her fingers shaking a little. What had happened while she was battling the Akuma. Had the Miraculous cure not been enough to fix all the damage? What if someone was hurt? Mama or Papa? Alya?

There were seventeen missed calls from Alya alone, and that eased a little of the tightness in her chest. Two were from different unknown numbers. Two from the bakery’s line and one each from her Mama and Papa’s respective cell phones. And oddly enough, one from Nadja Chamak. There were ten new voicemails and fifty-seven texts from Alya. There was also a text from Rose, simply a heart-eyes emoji and, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

She scrolled to the earliest text from Alya, consisting of a keysmash and a blurry photograph of a tv screen. Even with the blur from what had to be Alya shaking, she recognized the image, the same one Disaster Caster had shown Chat that had triggered his enraged attack. Herself; passionately kissing Chat Noir.

Her knees wobbled and Chat was quick to support her. “He... he broadcast us kissing—?”

Arthur cursed, prompting Lewis to cover his mouth, but the blond man just shoved the ghost’s large hand away. “Hell with my language, Lewis. Even I know what the fuck that means. One fell swoop just put Marinette on everybody’s radar, including Hawkmoth’s. She’s locking lips with one of the heroes of this city. That’s like pinning on a huge target on her. Not only for the supervillain in town to take shots at but every single wanna-be newshound and paparazzi in a hundred-mile radius of Paris.”

Marinette’s legs gave out. “I am so, so very screwed.”

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 4/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

Jessica was both overjoyed and terrified when she recognized Rey’s voice over the phone. She was shouting with a mixture of glee and rage about something along the lines of worrying to death and never being happier to hear something in her life.

Noticing Jessica’s sheer levels of anxiety, Rey strategically omitted certain details. She confirmed that she had arrived safely and had spent an unforgettable night in a luxury hotel—all at Finn’s expense, of course. She also downplayed the fact that her phone had run out of battery.

On the other end of the table, Ben Solo was trying very hard to pretend that he wasn’t listening. Rey knew that he didn’t miss a single word she said. She didn’t like the idea of being indebted to him, so she cut the call short, simply asking Jessica to tell the others that she was doing just fine and was having a splendid holiday.

Except for Finn of course. Finn could go die for all she cared. In fact, she really hoped he would.

She handed the phone back to Ben, who was still pretending to be disinterested.

“Problems with the boyfriend?”

Rey narrowed her eyes, dismissing the question as inappropriate.

“None of your business. Thanks for the cellphone. How much do I owe you?”

“Your digits. Then we’re even.”

Was he actually flirting with her? Rey sighed disdainfully.

“After nearly killing me with your Monster Truck, you’re trying to flirt with me? You have some gall, don’t you? Have a nice day, and thank you for the call.”

Picking up her damaged suitcase again, she waved politely to the waitress, who waved back. Then she headed over to the door. At the shopping center, she withdrew 500 dollars in cash, some of which she used to buy an adapter and a shoulder bag. She judged the new bag to be more suited to her trek across the country than her current roller model (which wasn’t doing a whole lot off rolling anyway).

The encounter with Ben Solo kept gnawing at her. The man was both intoxicating and insufferable, like over-sharp cologne that gave you a headache and made it harder to think.  He was a bullish, arrogant show-off—and yet something about him mesmerized her. The way he chewed his lip when he was deep in thought, the constellation of beauty marks on his face, or the involuntary grace in the way he ran his fingers through his hair. It made him seem vulnerable, utterly human. A far cry from the apathetic snark he pretended to be.

Emerging from the shopping center, she peered around the corner to make sure the pickup was no longer parked there.  Reassured that it had disappeared,  she walked over to the Night Owl café in relief now that Ben Solo had left the premises.

The new customers were hipster types, likely students, clad in harem pants, plaid, and oversized glasses. They typed away on their laptops, sipping from fancy drinks graced with floating scoops of ice cream.

“Hello again, can I hang around here while I recharge my phone? Should I order something else?” She asked, approaching the waitress again.

“No need, go ahead and make yourself at home. You can stay as longs as you want. I’m sorry about that annoying customer. Are you alright?”

Manners dictated that Rey should simply have responded fine, thanks, but the words that left her lips instead were “It’s absolute hell, I want to die.”

She blushed immediately, chewing on her lip. What had possessed her to open up to a stranger?

The waitress looked up at the clock mounted on the wall.

“I’ve got some time before the lunch rush, wanna talk? I can make you some fresh squeezed orange juice, it’s loaded with vitamins, it’ll help you recharge,”

“I—well…alright. That’s kind of you. By the way, I’m Rey,”

“I’m Rose, nice to meet you. I have a feeling your trip hasn’t gone to plan. Have you been here long?”

“Since yesterday,” Rey sighed, taking the glass of orange juice that Rose offered. She plopped down onto a bench and when Rose sat across from her, she told her everything: Finn, the wedding, the annulment, Poe, Jessica, the honeymoon trip, Ben Solo and his pickup.

Rose listened attentively, occasionally nodding mhm to encourage  Rey to keep going. Finally she asked, “But how much money do you have for this trip?”

“Not much, really” Rey shrugged, “Finn and I took out a loan to pay for the wedding, but now I have to reimburse the suppliers, give back our apartment, and whatever else I have to budget for the next five years. I’m generally better off the less I spend. It wasn’t the idea of the century to go on a two-week holiday with barely a quid to spare.”

Rose pursed her lips, assessing that last sentence. “I know someone who could use your services, if you’re interested. The job will make you some cash and take you pretty close to San Francisco.”

Rey hesitated. Silent alarm bells went off in her head, a gut instinct to pull away. She responded without thinking, “Is it prostitution or something? Because even if I’m penniless that’s out of the question,”

“No, not at all! It’s completely harmless. It’s just that I don’t have time to do it because of the café and all. No one will force you into anything.”

“Is it drug trafficking? Cannabis?  That’s legal in Colorado, isn’t it? Will I make enemies in the police department?”

“No, none of that,” Rose giggled, “It’s actually just taking a car up to California. And knowing your situation, I thought you could really use a ride. But if you don’t feel like it we can figure something else out.”

“And what does that entail exactly? What’s in this car?”

Rose jotted down a number on a Night Owl business card, handing it to Rey.

“You can contact Leia Skywalker using this number, she’s a friend. She’ll explain everything. I would do it myself but like I said, I just don’t have the time. And it would be a two-way trip for me anyway. You would only be driving one way, it’s totally convenient.”

Rey slipped the card into her pocket and drained her glass, rising to her feet.

“I’ll think about it, thanks a load,”

“You’re welcome, thank you too. I hope it all works out for you…”

Rey threw her bag over her shoulder, taking out her phone, she made her way to the exit.

“Yeah, I hope so too...”

She found herself on the road again. Inside her pocket, her fingers fiddled with the glossy edges of the business card.

The thought of that card in her pocket distracted her throughout the day.

She went to the Black American West Museum on California Street, to broaden her horizons on a culturally and historically relevant fieldtrip. She didn’t retain anything however; distracted by hard realities like not knowing where she was going to sleep that night.

She ate a cheeseburger and an Oreo milkshake at this “Jack in the Box” place, where the hundreds of options at the soft drink machine left her feeling indecisive. Looking at the advertisements, this Jack fellow was an odd mascot who only appealed to American sensibilities; his prim suit contrasted comically with his ballooning head, which looked like it was decorated by a child no older than five.

She travelled on foot to the Santa Fe Art District, where she wandered without really admiring the bright murals and art galleries. It was getting late and she was feeling tired due to the lingering jet lag. She needed a room for the night.

Worn out from her day-long walk, she slumped onto a bench. It was there that she saw the poster, in the corner of a shop window across the street.

Howl at the Moon presents: Kylo & the Knights of Ren, June 30th to July 4th: Free admission

Where had she seen that name before? Kylo and the Knights? What a bizarre name, but why was it so familiar?

It dawned on her. Kylo Ren was written on the bumper sticker of that pickup. The one belonging to what’s-his-face Ben Solo. It was a rock band.

Well, then! Instead of finding a place to sleep, she had stumbled upon the perfect place to spend the evening…

When she made it through the doors at 7 PM, the place was still quiet. It was too early for the show and the scene was deserted. Rey ordered a beer and a club sandwich at the bar. Gritting her teeth, she sat down at a small, empty table in a quiet alcove. She had a good view of the stage while taking up as little space as possible. Why had she come? Objectively, she had no desire to see Ben again, the unbearable arse. And yet—and yet she was curious. If he was any good, she could ostensibly revise her judgement.

The venue filled up slowly as the music blared. The crowd was tight-knit, greeting each other with smiles and pats on the back. The drinks kept flowing all night. At first Rey thought she would garner attention, a girl sitting all alone with her beer. But the crowd thickened, and soon she was safely just another silhouette in a sea of hundreds of others.

The sound of a few stray guitar notes made her look up. The band was onstage. There were seven of them—four women and three men. Clad in that many shades of black, they left no doubt that they were a rock band. They had it all, the leather and denim, Doc Martens, miniskirts and crop tops. Their hairstyles ranged from expertly shaved to long flowing locks and intricate braids. In center stage was Ben Solo (or was it Kylo Ren?) microphone in hand. He chewed on his lip and ran his fingers through his hair, habits that Rey had already picked up on after just two encounters. He had an unusually deep, almost guttural voice—Rey would be lying if she said that her interest wasn’t piqued. The music was a perfect sort of chaos—the melodies hypnotic under the savage rhythm and relentless beat. Rey surprised herself by singing with the crowd, repeating the refrains that she hadn’t memorized yet but which descended upon her ears and lips as though they had always been there.

Realizing that she was finally smiling, Rey thought of how the past hour had rid her of her worries for the first time in a long while. It was cathartic—she felt alive again. She had no desire to leave this place, to go back out there and find a room, as common sense would dictate. She wanted nothing more than to stay there a little while longer, a carefree spirit enjoying the music as she basked in the anonymity of the crowd.

She stayed for just about the entire evening. The band descended into the crowd after the show to drink a few beers with a small group of regulars. They laughed like old friends. Rey couldn’t help but notice their guitarist. Her style was gorgeous punk, complete with an immaculate mohawk and studs in her nose and ears that contrasted beautifully with her ebony skin. She never left Ben’s side. Shoulder to shoulder, her hand on his arm, her subtle touches and accidental brushes seemed to multiply.

Stars, I’ve never seen a girl more madly in love, too bad for her that he doesn’t look like he will ever reciprocate it.

And as though it was meant to contradict her, Ben’s hand shifted to rest on the girl’s hip, subtly pulling her against him. Rey raised the beer bottle to her lips, and found herself eye to eye with him as he looked up.

He was so shocked to see her that he began looking around, perhaps to make sure that it wasn’t one of those tacky hidden camera shows. As nothing continued to happen, he got up and walked in her direction.

The guitarist let him go, but not without seeking a reason for the sudden desertion. Her eyes locked on to Rey. Suddenly, Rey felt that she hadn’t exactly made a new friend.

“Good evening! Lovely concert there, Kylo Ren,” Rey said sweetly as Ben towered over her.

“What are you doing here?”

The question could have been unexpected if she wasn’t so naively spontaneous. Rey took a large swallow of her beer.

“I saw the light and I wandered in, what a small world, right?”

“Denver is a small town. And the nighttime rock scene even is even smaller. I didn’t realize that you liked rock music.”

“Well I don’t mean to brag but I have all sorts of hobbies apart from throwing myself at moving vehicles, really. But we never got around to that. How long have you been playing?”

“A few years.”

He wasn’t talkative and Rey pursed her lips as she scratched her brain for topics of conversation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the rather impatient guitarist and seized upon the opportunity to ask him about her.

“Lovely guitarist you’ve got there, is she your girlfriend?”

“None of your business.”

Rey took the blow. It was fair play. She finished her beer and turned to leave.

“Well, then! Alright Ben Ren, Kylo Solo, or whatever your name is, thank you for the evening—it was a memorable performance. I had a great time but I ought to leave.”

She rose and slung her bag over her shoulder again, as it caught Ben’s eye.

“New bag? You were right to buy it, your other one was completely useless.”

“Yeah, someone was nice enough to tell me that it didn’t match my outfit. Goodnight, then.”

She had only taken a few steps toward the exit when he called out behind her:

“Where will you be staying tonight, Rey from England?”

“Nowhere. I’m a free woman in the Land of the Free.”

Her response was drowned out by the voices of late-night conversations between party diehards and smokers who congregated in packs near the door. Rey was feeling lightheaded and tipsy; she took a few wobbly steps onto the sidewalk before he called her name.

“Rey, wait!”

She turned around to see Ben cutting through the crowd in her direction, as she hit the lamppost hard. I must really be drunk then, she reasoned before giving in to the darkness.

[omgjasminesimone]

Homecoming Part 4

Author’s Note: We’re nearing the end! Just one more part after this I think.

Summary: Bryce and Casey attend Abigail’s wedding. They both drink too much. 

Word Count: ~ 3600

Previous Part: Part 3

Next Part: Part 5

Bryce sighs dramatically as he takes a seat at the long dinner table. It has been quite a long day and he just wants to get back to Casey and his hotel room.

Ryan had set a very early appointment for the tux rental fitting, followed with an awkward breakfast with all the groomsmen. Bryce knows most of them from prep school, and Francis is a groomsman too, but he doesn’t like any of these people, so he would have much preferred brunch with Casey.

Bryce was distracted during the rehearsal, thinking about what Casey might be doing at the moment. She told him she was going to go on one of the hotel excursions, a hike to Manoa Falls. He wanted to text her throughout the day, but knew she likely didn’t have cell reception.

His entire family was at the rehearsal, and it was the first time he’s had to interact with them without Casey as a buffer the whole trip.

It was almost unbearable. His mother was completely overbearing, seemingly in charge of every aspect of this wedding and directing the rehearsal like some kind of deranged dictator.

Francis and his father brought up the real estate business at every opportunity, but he ignored them to the best of his ability.

Maybe worst or all, Abigail has paired him with his ex-girlfriend for all the wedding party duties.

He and Tia dated his senior year of high school, and then two more years while he was at the University of Hawaii. She’s pretty, long blonde hair, big blue eyes, the kind of girl his father approves of. She was probably his first love. He can’t remember exactly why they broke up. He vaguely remembers a huge fight. And that she had cried.

She seems to have forgiven him though, spending most of the time at the wedding rehearsal flirting with him. He brought up his current girlfriend several times, but Tia is undeterred.

Even now, she’s trying to play footsies with him at the dinner table. He moves his foot away subtly.

“Sir, are you ready to order?”

The waitress’ question leads him to glance through the fancy French food on the menu. Ryan’s parents are paying for the rehearsal dinner, and they’ve picked the most expensive French restaurant in Honolulu to showcase their wealth. They can’t be upstaged by Kate Lahela’s opulent displays.

Bryce hates rich people food. “Can your chef make a custom order? Burger and fries?”

The waitress looks taken aback. “Umm... probably?”

Bryce flashes her a megawatt smile. “Thanks.”

She continues around the table, collecting more orders. Bryce pulls out his phone, sending a text to Casey.

Bryce: how was your hike?

He immediately sees the dots indicating she’s responding.

Casey: Amazing!!! ❤️❤️❤️

A series of photos follow, the breathtaking views from her hike making him smile.

Bryce: glad you had fun. hope you weren’t too lonely 😔

Casey: I wasn’t lonely. You know how easy it is for me to make friends.

Casey: I met a couple on their honeymoon and they let me hang out with them.

Casey: They even invited me to dinner. We went to this Italian place and the pasta was soooo good. 🤤

Bryce: and what are you doing now?

Casey: Took a long shower, and now I’m in bed watching A Star is Born.

Casey: Lady Gaga is so talented.

Bryce: in bed? what are you wearing?

Bryce: (hoping you’re naked) 🤞🏽

Casey: Not naked, but I’m in that teddy that you like. I’m waiting for you to come rip it off me.

Bryce bites his lip, reading her last message again.

A photo comes through, Casey posed seductively in the bed in that deep red silk teddy. It’s not a selfie.

Bryce: who took this?!

Bryce: is that couple with you?

There’s a slight pause before he sees she’s typing again.

Casey: I used the timer you jealous dork. 😂

Bryce chuckles a little under his breath, his jealousy dispelling. He scrolls back up to the photo, eyes scanning over her greedily.

His uncle lets out a low whistle, glancing at his screen. “Damn Bryce, you did good.”

Bryce flushes and immediately pockets his phone, his uncle Tito chuckling beside him.

Dinner takes forever, countless speeches by friends and family about the bride and groom. His own speech is short and to the point. After what feels like eternity, but is really 3 hours, he’s finally able to get in his rental car and head back to the hotel.

He practically jogs from the elevator to their room, shoving his keycard in the door impatiently.

“Baby, I’m home-” He begins, trailing off when he sees she’s asleep. She’s snoring softly and the tv is still on, bathing her in a blue glow.

He turns off the tv, shrugging out of his suit jacket. After a quick shower, he climbs into bed beside her, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her forehead before falling into a deep slumber. He dreams about returning to Boston in just two days time. He’s ready, he’s had more than enough family time.

...

..

.

Bryce arrives at the church where Abigail and Ryan will be married very early in the morning. He’s unsure why his mother insisted on such an early time, since the men all spend the time awkwardly sitting around after getting ready in less than 30 minutes. He can only assume it takes the women longer.

When Abigail, his mother, and the bridesmaids are finally ready, it’s time for photos. They must take over a thousand photos, moving around the church, then outside the church, and then, hey, why don’t we get a view of the ocean, now how about a view of the church? It’s never ending, and he’s exhausted.

They finally get a lunch break, food laid out on the picnic tables outside the church. He can’t help but laugh as his sister delicately tries to eat some pineapple without ruining her lipstick. She’s covered her dress with a large bib to ensure it remains pristine and white.

“Abs, want me to chew it for you? Then I can regurgitate it into your mouth like a mama bird.” He jokes.

She flips him her middle finger, with a perfectly manicured French tip, and continues to slice the pineapple into minuscule pieces with a knife.

Tia tosses her lunch trash and approaches the table where he’s sitting alone. All morning, she’s been using the photos as an excuse to hang all over him, somehow almost always managing to end up on his arm.

“I saw some guests heading in when I went to the bathroom. Almost time to get this show on the road. We’re almost free!” Tia exclaims excitedly.

Bryce quirks a small smile. “You really should have declined her bridesmaid invitation. You know how our mom is. There was no way she wasn’t turning into a complete momzilla and making this whole process a living hell.”

“You didn’t refuse either.” She points out.

“They didn’t give me much of a choice.” Bryce insists.

“Well, it’s not all bad. I like these blue bridesmaid dresses. And I do get to hang out with you.” She grips his arm.

He peels her off. “Tia, I told you. I have a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend isn’t a wife.” She retorts, winking cheekily.

“No, but one day she’ll be my wife. Casey is the one.”

Tia looks more hurt by that than he expected. The hurt on her face is quickly replaced with anger, and she storms away from him.

“Well damn, I guess Bria isn’t happening.” Abigail laments, throwing away the packaging from her lunch.

He rolls his eyes at the old couple name she used to call them. “Why would you pair me with her Abs? You knew I had a girlfriend.”

“To be fair, I hadn’t met Casey yet, so my loyalty was 100 percent with my girl Tia. I really like Casey though, I think she’s good for you. But it’s too late to change the pairings for walking down the aisle now, so just grin and bear it.”

“I’ve been grinning and bearing all day.” He retorts.

She smiles at him sadly. “Yeah, me too.”

Bryce becomes uncharacteristically serious. His little sister can always bring out his protective side. “Abigail, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, our parents would love if I pulled a runaway bride. Can you imagine what all those hundreds of guests would say? ‘First, she gets knocked up as a teen, now she runs away from her very appropriate and wealthy fiancé, what’s wrong with that Abigail Lahela?’” She chuckles mirthlessly.

“Who cares what they’ll say? You don’t even have to stay here. You and Haku could move in with me in Boston. I have a guest room.”

“Bryce, I’m a big girl now. It’s time to get out on my own. Ryan is a good guy. He treats me well and this is an important business connection. I married for love before, and that didn’t work out too great for me.”

“Wow Abs. They’ve really brainwashed you. You sound just like our parents.”

“Whatever Bryce.” Abigail mutters before heading back over to her bridesmaids.

They go back into the bride’s and groom’s dressing rooms in the church, retouching makeup and preparing to finally walk down the aisle.

The wedding coordinator Mrs. Lahela hired appears. She looks frazzled, like she can’t wait to get paid and be done with this wedding. “It’s go time people.”

The wedding party splits into their assigned pairs. Haku fidgets nervously at Bryce’s side. He puts a reassuring hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “You’re going to be a great ring bearer kid.”

Traditional Hawaiian music starts playing. This is something their dad was against, but Abigail managed to get him to agree to her being in charge of one thing at her own wedding, the playlist.

Francis and Gabrielle are the first pair down the aisle. A few more pairs go before it’s Bryce’s turn. He offers Tia his arm, and she smiles at him.

They walk down the long aisle, to where Ryan is standing at the altar. They split off from each other, Bryce joining the groomsmen behind Ryan.

Bryce searches the room for Casey as the maid of honor and best man conclude the aisle walk.

He spots her in the aisle seat of the fourth row. She’s so beautiful, in a silver strapless gown that hugs her in all the right places. Her curls are up in a delicate updo, light makeup accentuating the look. He has no idea how he got so lucky with her. He throws her a flirtatious wink, and she blows him a kiss in return.

Haku and the flower girls, who are Lahela cousins, walk down the aisle. Haku stands beside Ryan and he claps his soon to be stepson on the shoulder reassuringly.

Finally, the wedding march starts. Abigail comes down the aisle on her father’s arm. Bryce has to stop himself from scoffing at the smug look on Aoloa’s face. He’s probably already counting the money this union will bring him.

…

..

.

The reception is held immediately following the ceremony at the Lahela mansion. Bryce grabs a drink from cocktail hour in the formal dining room before heading out to the backyard.

His mother has really outdone herself. There are literally peacocks strolling around. Twinkling lights and lanterns add to the party atmosphere. A large tent is set up, with a dance floor and dinner tables.

Bryce strolls over to the tables, frowning when he sees a place card for Mr. Bryce Lahela on an elevated table at the front of the tent. Not only does the Mr. instead of Dr. bother him, he also wants to sit with Casey, not the wedding party.

He feels like he’s barely seen her over the last two days. He spots her at one of the circular tables where she’s currently sitting alone since most of the guests are still at cocktail hour. She’s sipping on a tropical cocktail.

He takes the seat beside her, glancing at the place card. Mr. Joseph Grant, an older gentleman who owns a private beach and beach club. A notorious bachelor, who will likely spend the entire evening flirting with Bryce’s girlfriend.

He frowns, glancing at the other place cards and seeing that this table is full of Lahela business contacts. His mother could have at least placed Casey with fun people, like his cousins and uncles. Or his friends.

He tosses Joseph’s place card to the ground, claiming the seat for himself.

“Amor, it seems like your mother put a lot of effort into these seating arrangements.” Casey gently chides.

Bryce takes Casey’s hand, placing a kiss to her palm. “Don’t care. I’ve barely gotten to see you baby.”

Casey smiles. “I missed you too. But I’m not going to let you steal Mr. Grant’s seat.”

“Fine.” He stands and easily picks her up, sitting in her seat instead and placing her in his lap.

Bryce kisses her shoulder, and then her neck. Her skin is so soft, and she smells like something he can’t quite place, but it’s flowery. “You smell amazing.”

“I went to the hotel spa this morning and got a scrub. I forgot my purse, so I charged it to the room, but I’m going to pay you back.”

“No, you won’t.” He nibbles below her earlobe. “Very willing to pay for this moment right here.”

Casey laughs, turning slightly so she can capture his lips. “Your mom is glaring at us.”

She is. The guests have started to migrate to the tent, and Mrs. Lahela is sitting at the wedding party table he’s supposed to be at.

“Let her glare.” He rubs gentle circles in her side through the silky fabric of her dress.

“I still want her to like me Amor. You should get back to your seat. Please.”

Bryce frowns, but Casey knows he can’t refuse her anything. “Fine, but you owe me later. Save me a dance.”

She stands so he can leave. “I’ll save you several.”

Before he leaves, Bryce grabs a pen out of Casey’s purse on the floor. He crosses out the Ms. on her place card, replacing it with Dr. “We didn’t go through medical school to not be referred to as Dr.” He reasons.

Casey laughs, kissing him one more time before he walks off.

When he returns to his assigned seat, he uses the borrowed pen to correct his own place card as well. ‘That’s Dr. Bryce Lahela to you.’ he imagines himself retorting if his brother or father bring up the real estate business one more damn time.

…

..

.

The newlyweds’ first dance concludes, Ryan hugging Abigail close and placing a kiss to her forehead.

“And now the dance floor is officially open!” The DJ announces, John Legend’s You and I coming over the speakers.

Bryce is quick to hop down from the wedding party table. Now that dinner, the speeches, and the first dance are all done, he’s finally completed his groomsman duties. Time to actually enjoy himself.

He spots Casey over by the open bar with his uncles. He approaches, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She leans back into his touch.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Tito asks the assembled group. “Definitely more in love than the newlyweds.”

Bryce grins. “Sorry to steal her, but I was promised a dance.”

“And dance we shall, but first peacock selfie!” Casey detangles herself from his arms, pulling him to the edge of the lawn where the peacocks have gathered. “I can’t believe your mom rented peacocks! This is definitely going to be my most liked pictagram photo ever.”

She’s clearly a little drunk. Since he was at the wedding party table all night, he had to settle for the champagne he was expected to drink after every toast. But Casey’s been free to hit the open bar, and he’s watched her take full advantage.

They crouch near the prettiest peacock, Casey fiddling with her phone and struggling to unlock it.

Bryce pulls out his own phone, unlocking it easily and snapping a selfie while he kisses Casey on the cheek.

He shows her the photo. “It’s cute!” She exclaims, so he chuckles and uploads it to his own pictagram account.

“Alright, now we dance.” Bryce declares, intertwining their fingers and leading her back to the dance floor.

The song has changed to Bruno Mars’ Just the Way You Are. Appropriate. “Girl you’re amazing, just the way you are.” Bryce sings in her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I love you Bryce.” Casey says softly when the song ends, hands rising from his shoulders to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you too Casey.” He promises before capturing her lips.

They gently sway to several more songs before Bryce is interrupted by a finger tapping on his shoulder.

“Dearest, so sorry to interrupt but the ambassador’s son is here, and I’ve spent so much time gushing over you that he wants to meet you.” His mother explains, not looking all that sorry to be interrupting.

Bryce sighs irritably. He hates mingling. It’s one of the worst parts about his mother’s parties.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises Casey.

She waves him off. “Take your time.”

…

..

.

Of course, his mother doesn’t just want to introduce him to the ambassador and his family, she parades him around the whole place. Brags about what an accomplished surgeon he is, how proud she is. All for appearances of course, she’d been just as against medical school as his father.

The open bar helps him get through it, stopping to get another drink between each group his mother insists on introducing him to.

He’s more than a little tipsy when he finally manages to slip away almost an hour later, immediately looking for Casey. He spots her at a dinner table, drinking with his friends.

She’s very drunk, he realizes almost immediately. She looks like she’s about to fall asleep at the table.

“What did you guys do to her?” Bryce playfully accuses, taking the seat beside Casey and allowing her to lean on his shoulder.

“She thought she could out drink me. I told her she couldn’t.” His oldest friend announces smugly.

“I’m…. not … conceiting…. confeated…” she mumbles drunkenly.

“Conceding.” Bryce helpfully supplies.

“That! I can out drink you. I just need a little break first. Maybe some water.” She reaches for the water pitcher, knocking it over accidentally.

His friends chuckle as Casey pouts. “Okay Dr. Valentine, time to concede. Let’s get you to bed.” Bryce says before lifting Casey and cradling her to his chest.

“Bed? We’re staying here?” Casey asks, playing with his blue tie as he carries her.

“Well you sure as hell can’t drive. And I’m a little drunk too.” He explains, entering the house and carefully climbing the steps towards his childhood room.

He gently deposits her on his bed, removing her shoes and clothes. He changes her into his old T-shirt and high school gym shorts. He admires her for a moment, pushing her curls out of her face since her updo has long since come undone.

He’s about to get up, but she grips his arm. “Stay.” She pleads sleepily.

Bryce kisses her forehead. “I’m just going to say goodbye to my friends and my uncles. I’ll be right back.”

Casey nods, yawning and releasing him. She rolls onto her side, and he turns out the lights before leaving the room.

Bryce returns to the backyard just in time for the beer pong tournament his Uncle Tito has started. His mother would never allow this, it’s too low class for her tastes, but she’s turned in for the night. She’s probably chugging a bottle of wine, finally away from prying eyes.

Bryce loves beer pong, so of course he joins. But he’s already tipsy, so he’s not as good as usual. He finds himself missing several shots, being forced to drink more and more as Uncle Tito hits almost all his shots.

An hour later, Bryce is definitely drunk. He stumbles into the house, heading towards the guest bathroom. He’s about to turn the door knob when the door opens, surprising him. Tia crashes into his chest.

He steadies them both by wrapping his arms around her. He’s trapped against the hallway wall, Tia leaning against him.

Tia glances up at him, smiling. “You smell like beer.”

He smiles back, the room is spinning, but he tries to focus. “You smell like vanilla. Are you still using that same perfume?”

“You remembered.” Tia says softly, her hands tightening in his white dress shirt.

Suddenly she leans up, aggressively pressing her lips to his.

If he was sober, he would have stopped this immediately. Pushed her away and quickly returned to Casey, the love of his life. But he’s so drunk. And her lips feel nice, and taste like the strawberry lip gloss she was always so fond of.

He kisses Tia back, hands tangling into her hair. Her blonde tresses are silky and smooth, so different from Casey’s dark curls. And that’s enough to break the drunken spell. To make him realize what he’s doing. That he’s cheating on Casey.

Glass shatters at the exact moment that he pulls away.

Bryce’s wide eyes meet Casey’s. The glass of water she was bringing to his room shattered on the expensive tile floor.  

…

..

.

Author’s Note: You’re probably wondering why I did this. And to be honest, I’m wondering the same thing. But the idea just came to me and I wanted some angst and conflict. 

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