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sequinsmile-x · 2 years

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Love You in the Dark - Chapter 3

A Hotchniss AU fic, set in the 1960s.

-x-

*Please read the warnings before you read the fic. Sensitive themes throughout*

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, domestic violence, cheating, emotional affair

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut.

Let me know what you think

Weeks had passed since the first night Aaron walked into the diner. He came in most nights, always at the same time. Emily found herself looking for him as the time ticked closer to 1am, her eyes fixed on the clock on the wall.

Ever since he’d told her his name, something about it was familiar to her. A scratch at the back of her mind as the name ‘Hotchner’ rolled around her head, a vague memory floating around in the air like a feather.

It was driving her mad.

She can’t help but smile when she sees his car pull up outside, a cup of coffee already waiting for him in the booth she now thought of as his by the time he walks in. There was an ease to being around him that made her heart stutter in her chest, the treacherous beats making her feel something she knew shouldn’t.

She watches him, fascinated by how he would sit there, his wallet on the table and a photo in his hands.

“You should go talk to him.”

Emily turns to her boss and tilts her head, an amused smirk on her face as she stops wiping the counter she’d been pretending to clean. She purposely doesn’t look over to Aaron, her whole body almost twitching with the need to.

“What? Why?”

“You just stand there with the coffee pot anyway. You might as well do your feet a favour and sit down.” Penelope rolls her eyes at her when Emily continues to stare at her with a bemused smile. “You both clearly like each other.”

“I’m married, Pen.”

“I know you are.” She replies, the sparkle in her eyes not dulling at all, rivalling the brightness of the neon sign outside. “But you’re allowed to have friends.”

Emily can’t help but laugh wryly at that, but it catches in her throat, almost choking her. She knew Ian wouldn’t like it, that his hypocrisies went as far as him having an issue with her having male friends, but brushing off the scent of cheap perfume that sometimes followed him like smoke. Claiming it was nothing but the land lady of his favourite pub. But there was something about Aaron that drew her to him, the conversation that flowed so easily she felt like she must have known him in another life.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Emily,” Penelope turns serious, and she places her hand over Emily’s on the counter, “this is a safe place. You can always come here.”

She falters, her words caught in her lungs as her boss, and friend, comes close to addressing what she doesn’t want to talk about. They had discussed it exactly once, Penelope’s concern absolute when she saw how Emily flinched when Ian was in the diner once, his fist slamming down against the counter when he demanded her wages and it wasn’t payday yet. Penelope gave her the money immediately, and pulled Emily to one side the moment Ian left.

Emily brushed it off, making it sound smaller than both women knew it was, but Penelope had always been nothing but good to her, and she didn’t want to draw her into a problem that wasn’t hers.

“Besides,” Penelope says, the mischief returning to her eyes as if it had never left, her smile still soft, saying so much she wouldn’t yet put into words, “as your boss I insist that you take your breaks in the booth he sits in.”

“You insist?”

“Yes.” She grabs two coffee cups from behind the counter and fills them, pushing them towards her. “Now go take these over and take your break.”

Emily stares at her a second before shaking her head, picking up a coffee in each hand. “Yes ma’am.”

She walks over to his booth and puts the coffees down, gaining his attention as she slips in opposite him, taking one of the cups back into her hands.

“I’ve been told to take a break.” She says when his questioning eyes meet hers, tilting her head slightly towards where Penelope was standing. Aaron’s eyes follow hers and land on the other woman who gives them a quick wave before turning away, pretending to be busy with other tasks.

“It’s probably best to do what she says, she seems pretty formidable.” Aaron says as he looks back at Emily, picking up his own coffee to take a sip.

“You don’t know the half of it.” She jokes as she drinks her own coffee. She looks at the photo he’d been holding and he notices, gently tucking it back into the wallet. “Who’s the photo of?”

Aaron stares at her for a second, as if he was figuring out if he could tell her. If they could take another step away from mere acquaintances to something closer to friends.

“My son.” He answers finally, taking the photo back out and sliding it across the table. She takes it and looks, the boy’s hair obviously lighter than his fathers despite the black and white image. He looked young, so similar to Aaron in many ways but he also clearly took after his mother.

The first time she met Aaron she noticed that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. A quick flick of his eyes to his bare left hand, a surprise given his age and how handsome he was. It had only gone on to surprise her more as she got to know him. His kindness and sense of humour well hidden under his stern gaze and slightly over starched suits.

“He’s gorgeous. What’s his name?” She says smiling at the photo, running her finger over the young boy's smile, the dimples already achingly familiar to her.

“Jack. He’s 5.”

Emily looks back up at him with a smile on her face. “He looks like you.”

Aaron beams at that, clearly something he wasn’t told very often. “Everyone always says he looks like his mother.” His smile falters then, and he breaks their eye contact, looking down to the table between them. “She passed away about 6 months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, fighting the urge to lay her hand over his on the table, twisting hers together in her lap to stop herself, “what happened?” She asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.” She adds quickly, cursing herself for speaking without thinking, something about the man in front of her tearing apart her usual demeanour. This man who used to be a stranger somehow breaking down her carefully constructed defences.

He smiles sadly at her and looks back up. “She was killed,” he pauses before continuing, swallowing against the lump in his throat, “by a man I arrested.”

“Oh,” she exclaims as realisation dawns on her, the piece of the puzzle she felt she had been missing for weeks falling into place, “you’re Detective Hotchner.”

He smiles slightly, his eyebrow quirked in amusement, momentarily forgetting the nature of their conversation. “Yes, I thought we’d established that.”

“No, I mean I read about what happened to your family in the paper.” She says, her smile turning sympathetic. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Thank you.” He replies, his lips set in a firm line. “We weren’t even together at the time. We got divorced a couple years ago.”

She watches as he takes a sip of his coffee, his hands dwarfing the cup. He was clearly impacted by what had happened to him, to his family, but he was desperately trying to not be defined by it.

“I don’t know why I told you that.” He says apologetically, looking at her over the top of his cup and she realises she must have been silent for a beat too long.

“It’s ok, I asked.” She smiles and finishes her own coffee. “Would it make you feel better if I told you something deeply personal about myself?”

The wry smile on her face tells him she won’t be divulging anything too deep, that she was just trying to make him feel better. He was drawn in by her, wanting to know everything there was to know, so his answer is obvious.

“Absolutely.”

She leans across the table as if they are conspiring, the slight musk to her perfume suddenly seeming stronger.

“You can never tell Penelope.” She says, her voice low as she waits for him to nod. “I hate the colour pink.”

The way she smiles at him when he laughs eases the pain in his chest, and he wonders how he lived so long without knowing her.

____

Emily sighs as she looks at herself in her bathroom mirror, her makeup covering the worst of the bags under her eyes. She gently pulls her shirt down her shoulder to reveal the now fading bruise there, remnants of Ian’s bad mood only the week before. A deal of his souring him to the point where he had pushed her when she was late home from work one morning, her shoulder colliding with the wall almost the second she was in the front door.

She huffs out a breath as she readjusts her shirt, walking into the bedroom to pull on her uniform. She smiles as she smoothes it over, her hands running over the material that was now worn with age.

“You seem happy for someone about to do a 12 hour shift, love.”

Emily looks over to the door to see Ian leaning against the frame, his arms crossed as he looks at her. She had kept her new found friendship with Aaron from him, her enjoyment at seeing him each evening, knowing Ian would take issue with it.

“Penelope is on lates this week.” She replies smoothly. “You know I like it when she’s there.”

He hums, his disbelief clear as he closes the gap between them, his hands tight on her hips as he grabs her.

“You sure that’s all it is?”

“Of course.” She says, the lie easier than she expected. He kisses her and she pulls back after a second, her hand delving into the pocket of her uniform. “I meant to give you this.”

She hands over the money from the tips she’d received that week, mostly from Aaron, in an attempt to distract him. Not wanting him to delve any deeper into her good mood. She felt lucky that Ian hadn’t been to the diner with Aaron there so far, that their paths hadn’t crossed.

“What's this?” He asks, holding up the money she had just handed him.

“My tips from this week.”

“You don’t usually get this much.” He says as she steps past him, walking towards the front door to get her shoes.

“It’s been busy recently.” She says as she slips her shoes on, returning to her full height. “I should go or I’ll be late. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

She doesn’t look back as she walks out the door, so she misses how his fist clenches around the dollar bills, his jaw set in a firm line.

____

Aaron has only just arrived, barely in the booth and holding his coffee when he hears the sound of ceramic breaking and a shout from behind him.

He turns to see the college student, who he now knows as Spencer, covering his hand as blood seeps out from under his fingers.

Emily appears out of seemingly nowhere, a towel in hand as she makes it to Spencer’s side.

“What happened?” She asks, taking his hand in between her own, inspecting the cut, ignoring the shattered cup on the floor.

“I got distracted,” He says, “I was reading and missed the table as I put the coffee back down.”

“I always told you you’d hurt yourself studying this much.” She quips, trying to calm him before she looks at his hand again. “This doesn’t look like it's too deep. Come with me to the kitchen and I’ll clean it for you, we keep the first aid kit back there.”

Aaron watches as she leads Spencer to the back of the diner, the kitchen door swinging closed behind them. He isn’t sure how long he sits there, how much time passes before Emily walks back out alone, smiling as her eyes meet his.

“Sorry, I didn’t even get to say hi.”

He shakes his head, a smile on his face in response to her unnecessary apology. “Is he ok?”

“Spencer?” She asks, pointing back over her shoulder towards the kitchen. “He’ll be ok,” she walks over to Spencer's booth, his books still strewn everywhere as she kneels on the ground and starts to pick up the shards of the cup, “the cook, Jason, made the mistake of mentioning how much he likes birds. So Spencer is now chewing his ear off about different species.”

She looks up and realises he’s right in front of her, that he had silently crossed the space between them and was now on the floor next to her, helping her pick up bits of the broken cup.

“You don’t have to-”

“Emily, I want to help.” He replies. She opens her mouth to argue but stops, nodding as she looks back at the floor, careful not to cut her own hand. “How did you know what to do?” He asks, and she looks curiously at him, unsure what he means. “When he hurt himself? You weren’t phased.”

“Oh, I used to be a nurse.” She replies, a wistful smile on her face as she thinks of her old job. “I worked at Georgetown for years.”

“How did you end up working here?”

“What, you mean how did I go from working in one of the busiest hospitals in the city to pouring coffee for a living?” Emily asks, hoping that the humour she purposely injects into her voice comes across, wanting nothing more than for the subject to be dropped.

“Emily.”

She sighs, standing up as she clears the last of the broken pieces of the cup, Aaron following suit. She looks away from him, wanting to look anywhere except his eyes, knowing she would find kindness there that was almost too painful to bear.

“My husband didn’t think it was suitable for me to continue being a nurse once we were married, he wasn’t happy with the hours.” She says, unsure why she’s even telling him this.

It was strange to think that they really hadn’t known each other that long. It felt like the stolen hours they spent talking in the middle of night had always been a fixture in her life. He was quickly becoming someone important to her, and it scared her.

“But working in a diner in the middle of the night is fine?” He asks, his eyebrow raised at her as he walks back to his own booth, what’s left of his coffee now cold.

She chuckles dryly, pouring him another drink without him saying anything, placing the cup down on the table. “What you’re assuming there, Detective Hotchner, is that he applies logic to his choices.”

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Aaron?”

“Ok…Aaron.”

He smiles at her, the lines around his eyes crinkling, and his dimples coming out on full show. She feels butterflies in her stomach, wings beating against her that made her insides flip, and she knows she’s in trouble.

____

It felt wrong. Some small part of her knows she’s already too deep in it. That the way Aaron makes her feel without even trying is more than it should be. Their limited interactions in the diner in the one hour he would spend there a night warming her from the inside out. A giddiness she hadn’t felt since the early days of her marriage.

She doesn’t stop even though she knows she should. She still takes her breaks sitting across from him in the booth as they drank coffee together and she tries to convince him to order food, somewhat concerned that he never ate. He continues to ignore her, just drinking a few coffees before he leaves, disappearing back into the life he led outside of the diner.

She orders two plates of pancakes and ignores the way the cook looks at her as she carries them over to Aaron’s table, putting the plates down as he looks at her curiously, coming back to join him after she dumps the tray on the counter.

“I didn’t order this.” He says as she hands him cutlery, unwrapping her own from the napkin as she digs into her own stack, the pancakes covered in syrup and fruit.

“I know,” she says, not even looking up at him, “but I’m starting to think you never eat, so these are on me. I guessed at the type you’d want, something about you screams bacon and maple syrup to me.”

“You were right.” He says after a moment, and she looks up and watches as he digs into his food.

“About the pancake toppings?”

“No, well yes,” he says, taking a bite, “I mean you were right when you said you’re great at carrying a tray.”

He leaves a $5 tip that night and shakes his head at her when she tries to return it, his hand pressing the notes back into hers. It’s the first time they touch each other, and she can feel her skin tingle for hours afterwards.

____

“What’s the kid's deal?” Aaron asks, tilting his head back over his left shoulder, indicating Spencer, who was sat two booths away from them, Emily shifts slightly to look past him.

“Spencer?” She asks and Aaron nods in response. “He’s 21, doing his 3rd undergrad I believe. And working towards his first PHD.” She laughs when she sees the look on Aaron’s face. “Yeah, he’s very smart.” The smile slips off her face slightly, turning slightly melancholy. “He’s lonely though, his mother is sick. He’s never mentioned his father. I do my best to look after him. One coffee at a time”

“You can’t be that much older than him.”

She scoffs. “Oh you flatter me Aaron, I’m 32 in a few months.”

“That's not that much older.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “How old are you?”

“You can’t just ask someone that.” He replies, raising his eyebrows as he tries to suppress a smile. She can see the lines around his eyes crinkle as he fails and his dimples appear in his cheeks. “It’s rude.”

“You asked, in a very roundabout way.” She challenges and she smirks when he sighs.

“I’m 40 this year.” He relents, taking a sip of his coffee as she nods her head, her smile turning wistful.

“Same age as Ian,” she says, and she watches his eyebrows furrow for a second, “my husband.” She adds, realising this was the first time she had mentioned him by name to Aaron.

“How long have you been together?”

“7 years.” She says, forcing a smile. “Married for 5, almost 6.”

“No kids?” He asks innocently, curiosity written all over his face.

“No,” she answers, grateful for the political training she had from her mother, allowing her to keep her face straight despite the shudder that ran through her, the tightness in her chest, “no kids.” She looks away from him and clears her throat. “Not on the cards for us.”

“I’m sorry-”

“It’s ok, Aaron.” She says, smiling genuinely at him. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

It briefly crosses her mind that her statement included them. That this is all they would ever have, stolen hours in the dark when she was working and he was supposed to be.

Somehow she could convince herself that it was enough.

____

Fall 1963

Things feel slightly off from the moment he arrives, a car he doesn’t recognise parked in the spot that he considered his. Aaron parks slightly up the street and walks quickly towards the diner, the chill of the fall air making it through his coat.

The first thing he notices is Penelope isn’t in, the diner somehow always feeling duller when it was her week to be on the day shift. As he walks in, the bell above his head ringing to signify his arrival, he can feel that the atmosphere feels different to usual, stifling.

Spencer is sitting in his usual booth, his eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of him, although for once he clearly isn’t reading. His focus on the scene in the middle of the diner.

Emily is standing near the counter, a man that Aaron did not recognise with her. He was close to her, a familiarity with her personal space that tells him this man is her husband.

“I told you Ian, I don’t get paid until tomorrow.” She says, stepping back, her eyes flicking over Ian’s shoulder to Aaron. “You’ll have to wait until then.”

“Come on, love. It usually isn’t a problem.” He replies, his voice dripping with something Aaron is sure Emily is supposed to find charming. Ian steps closer to her again, his hand firm on her shoulder. “She’s paid you early before.”

“Penelope isn’t here, and I can’t just take the money.” She turns away from him, and he spins her back quickly and Aaron can see from a distance how firmly he’s gripping her upper arms, his fingers digging into her flesh through her uniform. He can see the way Ian shakes her slightly as he pulls her closer, his face so close to hers that his spit lands on her cheek as he speaks through clenched teeth.

“Don’t turn your back on me.”

“Is there a problem here?” Aaron says, intervening before it can escalate any further, his fists clenching slightly at the way Emily was being treated. He places his hand on his hip as Ian turns to look at him, purposely moving his coat out of the way so his gun and badge were on display.

Ian releases Emily from his grip immediately, taking a step back from her as he clears his throat and runs his hand over his face.

“No problem here, just a conversation between a man and his wife.” Ian says before turning back to look at Emily. “I’ll see you at home.”

Aaron doesn’t have a chance to register the threat in his voice, or how Emily doesn’t even flinch, before Ian is walking past him, his shoulder purposely bumping his as he leaves.

“Why did you do that?” She asks through her teeth, something far too close to fear on her face for his liking as she approaches Aaron, her finger pointing at him. “It wasn’t your place.”

“I couldn’t let him just talk to you like that.”

She scoffs. “Well it’s not you who’ll pay the consequences.”

“I’m a cop, Emily.”

“I don’t need you to be a cop.” She pushes past him, careful to avoid their shoulders bumping and she’s out on the street with the door slamming closed behind her before he can say anything else.

Aaron watches as she talks to her husband on the street, their words muted by the windows, Ian’s hands gesturing towards her as she appears to be trying to calm him.

“He’s like that whenever he comes here.”

Aaron turns and looks at Spencer, the college student looking up at him from the table.

“What do you mean?”

“She thinks I don’t notice.” Spencer says, his lips set in a firm line. “But I notice everything. She wears long sleeved shirts in the summer even though it’s hot in here and even hotter in the kitchen. Sometimes she wears more makeup than usual. Even then she doesn’t always cover all the bruises. And she’s here almost as much as I am, which is every night.” He finally seems unsettled under Aaron’s stern gaze and looks away. “She obviously is avoiding something. Someone.”

The sound of a car driving away snaps both of their attention back to the street, and Aaron watches as Emily covers her face with her hands, heaving out a breath as she pinches the bridge of her nose. It’s the most frayed he’s seen her, a glimpse beneath what she allows everyone to see on the surface as she thinks no one is looking. Their eyes meet and he watches as she puts it all back together, walking back into the diner with a look on her face that says she absolutely does not want to talk about it.

He doesn’t mention it, knowing this was not the night to, but he stays much longer than he usually would. Ignoring his responsibilities until the night just starts to give way to dawn.

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfic #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #Alternative Universe #AU fic #CM Fic #LYITD #Read the warning before the fic

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

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When Passion Rules the Game | Part Six

CW: NSFW, language

Part Five//Part Seven//Masterlist//2634 words

Aelin chuckled. “I hate you.”

Rowan grinned, playfully squeezing her ass. “I hate you more.”

“I can’t even wrap my mind around it, though. You like the Wendlyn Eagles. It’s just incomprehensible.”

Rowan smirked. “You’re far too dramatic for your own good.”

“Someone has to be. The rest of the world is filled with some boring ass people, I tell you, Rowan.”

He laughed. “Having met with Chaol Westfall, I can agree with you there.”

A snort that was far from womanly left Aelin’s mouth. “I still can’t believe you had to work on that project with him all day. I felt so bad.”

“You didn’t,” Rowan protested. “You were laughing every time I looked at you.”

“I can’t deny that.”

They both laughed. But the humor slowly dissolved as Rowan trailed his hand along Aelin’s side. The light touch turned greedy as Aelin leaned into him, aching for a rougher touch.

His hand reached for her breast and squeezed. Aelin scooted closer and reached her hand down below the sheets.

Rowan had her hand in his grasp in an instant. “Be patient, sweetheart.”

“I wish you’d stop saying that,” Aelin muttered.

Rowan smirked. “But you need to learn it.”

“Training me to be a good girl for you, hmm?” Aelin scooted closer, the legs that had been casually intertwined now tangled against each other heatedly. “But don’t you want me to make you feel good?” She gave her best puppy dog eyes.

Rowan leaned in and nipped her lower lip. “If you ask nicely.”

“Please let me touch you,” Aelin rasped, fluttering her eyelashes.

Rowan gave her throat a quick squeeze, Aelin letting out a noise of content as he choked her. Then he let go off her entirely, and Aelin moved her hand farther under the sheet.

Rowan’s cock was half-hard when Aelin wrapped her slender fingers around it. He squeezed his eyes shut as Aelin started pumping her hand. She was thoroughly enjoying the small grunt that left his lips as he tried to hold back a groan.

Rowan thrust his hips into Aelin’s hand. She trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along his neck as she pumped her hand. His cock hardened in her grip, and Aelin felt heat start to build between her legs.

Just when Aelin twisted her wrist and drew a growl out Rowan, he stopped her by flipping their bodies, pinning Aelin underneath him. He didn’t enjoy being the one squirming at someone else’s touch.

“Rowan,” she pleaded. He moved her arms, pinning her wrists over her head with one hand, and brought the other down between her legs. But Rowan only parted her folds with a finger, stroking gently. Aelin bucked her hips, but he only withdrew his hand.

“Please,” she whined. “Please, please, please.”

Rowan chuckled against her skin, licking a stripe up her neck and readjusting his hips so that Aelin was even more trapped under his body.

He slipped his finger inside her entrance, then pulled it back out immediately. “Beg me. Beg me to fuck you.” He roughly fingered her clit, then pulled his hand away entirely.

Aelin complied. Please was the only word in her vocabulary as she whimpered for Rowan to make her feel good. He finger-fucked her for a few minutes before he decided she was behaving well enough to come. Rowan pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud of flesh. It didn’t take much for Aelin to be overcome by a massive wave of pleasure.

And when he fucked her, when he flicked her clit as he slammed into her, she came, not even close to satisfied. He didn’t stop moving not just until he came as well, but until she had a third orgasm. When he finally let up, Aelin dropped into a deep slumber, exhausted from his attentions.

—

They were back in the bar. Aelin was talking to a man, a man with silver hair and pine-green eyes. She didn’t know his name, but she wanted to.

“I’m new in town,” he said to her, but Aelin wasn’t concerned with the hazy lust clouding his eyes or the way his gaze dropped to her cleavage. She was thinking about how nice he was, how smart and kind and funny. She didn’t want to drag him in the bathroom, she wanted to tell him that she lo—

An obnoxious beeping filled the room, filled Aelin’s head, turned the man into a blur. Aelin snapped awake, scrambling into a sitting position. Her alarm was going off.

She glanced over at Rowan, drowsily rubbing his eyes beside her, still lying down. “You okay, baby?”

Aelin let out a long exhale, trying to recall what her dream had been about. Rowan, maybe?

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, assessing the sincerity of her statement, then nodded and said, “We should get up. Work’s in an hour.”

Aelin steadied her breathing—what had her dream been?—and expressed her agreement. They climbed out of bed and headed around the house: eating, making coffee, brushing teeth, showering. It had been three months since they’d become friends with benefits, and they had toothbrushes and extra clothing at each other’s homes. It made things much more convenient, not having to wait until the weekend to hook up.

Aelin headed out a few minutes before Rowan, both because arriving at the same time could be suspicious if anyone noticed, and because she had no reason to wait for him. She called a farewell, knowing he had a key to lock her door with. Again, for convenience purposes.

Despite that and the fact that they cuddled often after sex, naked and talking about football teams, their relationship really wasn’t abnormal. They had just become good friends.

Aedion headed into her office only moments after Aelin herself arrived. He looked at her, frowned, and said, “You have a hickey.”

Aelin refused to blush, cursing herself for not even bothering to look in the mirror other than for a quick hair brush and some light lipstick. She merely leaned back in her chair, threaded her fingers in front of her on the desk, and said, “We have an issue with the camera in the main elevator.”

Aedion sighed and took a seat. “We’ll have it fixed by lunchtime. Still playing with your boy toy?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself, Aedion.”

He snorted. “Me? You’re the one—”

“We are not having this conversation again,” Aelin interrupted. “Especially not here. Go fix the camera.” She tended to be relatively kind to her employees, and merely icy to the ones who pissed her off, but having grown up with Aedion, she tended to have a shorter temper when he was around.

A huff was all she got in reply before Aedion stood. He left, shutting the door gently—they had a silent agreement not to let their petty arguments disturb anyone else—and leaving Aelin alone. She pulled out her phone and swiped to the camera app, then took a look at her neck.

There was a dark bruise on the side, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief. That would be easy to cover with her hair, unable to do anything less temporary during work. She pulled her blonde locks over that side and made a mental note to keep them there. Good thing she hadn’t passed many people on the way in.

Then she thought back to what had went down when Aedion had first walked in on her and Rowan, oh so long ago.

—

“What the fuck are you doing, Aelin?”

Aelin tensed. This wasn’t going to be fun.

She glanced over at Rowan, who looked part defensive and part confused. He probably didn’t realize Aedion was her cousin, though he might recognize him vaguely from work.

“You can go, Rowan. I’ll take care of this.”

He hesitated, looking back and forth between the pair. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I can handle him.”

Aedion snorted at that, but Aelin didn’t dignify him with a glance.

“Okay, but I…” Rowan trailed off.

Right. Aelin was still wearing his shirt.

“Um”—Aelin sent Aedion a smile—“We’ll be right back.” He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, and he flashed a saccharine grin.

Mentally dying from embarrassment, Aelin grabbed Rowan’s wrist and dragged him down the hallway. Not bothering to say anything to him, she yanked off his shirt, tossed it to him, and opened her drawer.

“So that was… a friend?”

Aelin yanked on some underwear and sweats. She looked in a different drawer for a t-shirt. “My cousin. Aedion. He works security.”

“Ah.” What was different about Rowan’s tone after she said that? What was he thinking?

Aelin turned back around, fully dressed now. Rowan’s gaze was fixed on the wall, rather than watching her as she dressed. Apparently all desire had disappeared, replaced by awkwardness.

“He won’t tell anyone.” Rowan’s eyes snapped to Aelin. “He’s very protective of me, but as annoyed as he’ll undoubtedly be, he won’t say anything.”

Rowan nodded. “Good.”

They didn’t say anything more. Aelin nodded. Rowan nodded, too.

“Well,” Aelin said finally. “See you at work on Monday.”

Rowan laughed lightly. “Yeah, see you.”

They left the bedroom and Rowan walked ahead of Aelin to the door. He gave a tight nod to Aedion, who didn’t return the gesture. Aelin sighed.

Once Rowan was out the door, Aelin smiled brightly. “Take a seat.”

“I’m good here.”

She ignored his tone and plumped onto the couch. “Want anything to eat?”

“What are you doing?”

“That’s none of your business, Aed.”

He frowned. “He works for you.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Aelin snapped.

Aedion pushed off the wall and stalked forward, dropping on the couch next to her. “You’re his boss. He’s probably just trying to get a promotion.”

A scowl crossed Aelin’s features. “You don’t even have any idea what this is,” she hissed.

“Then enlighten me, please.” Aedion’s growing temper matched her own. “Do you love him?”

Aelin scoffed. “Of course not. I just met the man a few weeks ago. Besides, that would be inappropriate.”

“That would be inappropriate,” Aedion repeated incredulously. “And this fucking isn’t?”

She huffed. “Rowan is well aware that this won’t be affecting his career at all, positively or negatively. It stays out of work, okay? There’s no reason to be pestering me about it.”

“It’s wrong, Aelin.”

“It is gods-damn not,” she snapped. “I am an adult, and he is an adult, and if we want to fuck, we will fuck. There’s your laptop. Take it and leave.”

Aedion did no such thing. “You know I only care about you.”

“If you care about me, you will mind your own business.”

Aedion sighed and stood up. “I’ll talk you on Monday. Lunch, remember?”

Aelin wanted to yell at him, her stubborn demeanor making it difficult to lose her anger, but if he was taking the steps to end this argument, she could do the same. “Fine. See you Monday.” Her voice was only slightly less sharp, but the words were enough. Aedion smiled in acknowledgment and left.

—

So much had changed since then, but Aedion’s attitude toward the pair’s out-of-work activities was not one of them. He glared at Rowan whenever they were in the same room, trying to find something to fault him for, but there never was anything. During their time in the office, Rowan remained respectful and kind, exactly as she’d requested of him all those days ago. He truly was a good man.

Drawing her thoughts away from Rowan, Aelin reached for a pen and got to work.

It was an hour later that Rowan joined her, starting on their major workload for the planning of their newest fundraising activity, as well as the arduous task of budgeting. Having such an involved roll in many of Aelin’s largest tasks, she had a small table designated for him against the wall, if ever they needed more space. Other thank that, he just used the opposite side of Aelin’s own desk.

Neither of them mentioned this morning, as was usual.

It may have been Aelin’s overactive imagination, but Rowan seemed distant today. Distracted about something or other. He brushed her off when Aelin asked if he was okay, and she let him have some space after that.

By the time the end of the workday rolled around, Aelin was exhausted. It was Friday, which meant she’d just spent the past five days pouring her sweat and blood into each project and task. She did work on the weekends, but the little loads she did at home could hardly compare to the stress of the week.

Aelin always worked later than everybody else; she wanted to get as much done as she could, and she made sure her workers, if not herself, had good hours. It was nearly seven-thirty when she filed away the last document.

When she came out of her office to find an empty floor, vacated entirely by Elide and all of the other staff, she was surprised. She wasn’t surprised that all of her workers were gone. That was entirely expected. She was surprised that Rowan was gone.

Not that he was supposed to be here; even though he worked a bit later some days, he usually left before her. But sometimes he waited up for her, in case she was in the mood. Well aware of the fact that they had fucked last night and they didn’t do it every day or anything, Aelin mentally shook herself for being concerned about Rowan’s absence. Still, some of the uneasiness remained.

Rowan had a pretty good position in the company, and as such, he had his own, albeit small, office. Aelin peered in just to be sure he was gone. Only a janitor, Arobynn, was in the office, and she waved at him. He gruffly nodded.

Trying not to reprimand herself out loud and look like a lunatic in front of the janitor, Aelin headed to the elevator. She was bothered that she was so caught up in Rowan that him not being there, even when it was entirely expected, made her lonely. It was just the sex she missed, of course.

Aelin impatiently tapped her pen against the handrail the whole elevator ride down, and when the doors finally opened, she hurried to her car, feeling she needed a nap. And maybe a whiskey.

—

The weekend passed in a blur. Aelin texted Rowan once, but he hadn’t responded. She hadn’t pestered him after that, knowing full well that he was allowed to have a life and she didn’t want to be desperate and annoy him into coming over. But she couldn’t deny the rapidly growing kernel of excitement resting in the pit of her stomach as Aelin headed to work on Monday.

“Hello, Elide,” Aelin called merrily, waving as she passed her.

Elide just sent a bemused smile to her friend.

Aelin marched toward her office, peering through the windows to find… a man that was not Rowan. Backpedaling because Aelin didn’t want to meet a client unprepared, she stepped away before he could see her. Then she made her way back to Elide.

“Who is that in my office?”

Elide frowned. “I sent you an email about it last night.”

“Last night? The last work I did was yesterday afternoon.”

Elide sighed, as if Aelin should have been checking her email all weekend long. She always had such high expectations. “That’s Nox Owens, the replacement.”

“Replacement for whom?” Aelin asked warily.

Elide blinked. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who didn’t tell me what?” Aelin crossed her arms.

“We had to find a new coordinations director over the weekend. Mr. Whitethorn tendered his immediate resignation last Friday.”

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@autumnbabylon

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@pagemasters

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@theysayitscrazy

@yesdreamblog

#rowaelin #tog #when passion rules the game #my writing

105 notes · View notes

write-r-die · 3 years

Text

Man’s World - Part 2

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - After a solar flare ended the world as we know it, former spy August Walker becomes the most terrifying of the many warlords who pop up across the US. He leads his militia from town to town, taking what he wants and all killing those who resist him. And now he wants Lilah. And one way or another, he’ll have her.

Masterlist

August didn’t know what possessed him to save that girl. Maybe it’s just that he didn’t like killing women. Maybe he was impressed with the unique mix of bravery and stupidity that led the vaguely ethnic twentysomething to shoot at him, only to fail spectacularly. More likely, he was just bored. Life after the flash was hard and violent but painfully predictable.

He thought she was pretty when he carried her from the city despite the bangs, but in the sunlight, he was far less impressed with her appearance.

To be fair, she wasn’t well. Standing in the command tent before him, she wavered on her feet. Her clothes were burnt around the edges and her feet were bare. The enormous sunglasses she wore didn’t help her appearance, either.

“The Boss just spoke to you,” one of August’s lieutenants said from somewhere behind him. “Speak,” he commanded the girl.

People who try to shoot me always end up dead. That’s what August Walker said to her. What the fuck was she supposed to say back?

“Speak?” Lilah parroted, doing her best to sound confused.

Jack looked like he wanted to smash his head into a wall.

August kept his eyes fixed on the girl as he spoke to his soldier. “What did you say was wrong with her?”

“Concussion,” Jack answered. “Doc says she’ll be right in a few days.”

August hummed. He didn’t raise his voice or take his eyes off Lilah when he commanded the others in the tent to leave with one simple word: “Out.”

Lilah’s expression grew more and more desperate as each person filed out until finally, they were alone.

“Are you a whore?” he asked simply.

Lilah was physically taken aback by his question. “Am I . . . ?”

August’s eyes roamed up and down her body. She looked a mess now but he could tell she cleaned up well. One of his many talents was the ability to sense a woman’s figure through her clothes, however unattractive those clothes may be. And he sensed Lilah’s figure was exquisite. Her face was, too, when it wasn’t smudged with ash and blood or half-hidden by ridiculous sunglasses.

“Are you a whore?” August repeated.

Lilah couldn’t speak for a moment, too shocked by his bluntness. “No.”

August’s blue eyes raked over her one more time, his gaze unbearably intense. He might as well be licking her. “That’s too bad.” He turned back to the maps on the table.

Lilah cleared her throat when she grew uncomfortable with the silence. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“No.” The warlord continued to study his maps as if he wasn’t interested in her enough to even look up. Maybe that was a good thing, thought Lilah, considering how it made her feel when he looked at her.. “What did you do? Back before the flare hit.”

“Umm . . .” Funemployed? Was that an answer? “I was a camp counselor during the summers when I was in college.”

“What activity did you teach?”

She cleared her throat. “Archery.”

“Archery,” Walker repeated. “You should have used a bow and arrow instead of a gun to shoot me. Maybe then you would actually have hit something.”

She was silent for a long time. Her throat was painfully dry. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I would’ve left you behind on that sidewalk if I wanted you dead,” he said flatly.

“What do you want, then?”

He wanted to fuck her.

After she’d bathed and changed and gotten her shit together, of course. August lifted his eyes from the table to give her that intense look again; that was answer enough.

He looked over Lilah’s head at Jack and subtly nodded towards the entryway. And just like that, Lilah was dismissed.

***

The people August Walker ordered to leave the tent start coming back inside the moment I’m dismissed. Pretty sure they were listening.

On my way out, I pass someone vaguely familiar but for the life of me I can’t remember who he is. “Hey,” I say anyway. I stop walking and so does he.

He nods once. “Lilah.”

“Mr. Kewlani!” His name comes out in a shout not because I’m surprised to see him but because I’m happy I remember his name.

He lived next door to me growing up. The only things I can really remember about him from childhood is that our dog pissed on all his plants and killed them and he hated us for it, and that he was condescending because of how smart he was. I’m not at all surprised that August Walker recruited him.

“Good to see you.” The fifty-eight-year-old physics professor doesn’t look pleased or surprised to see me. I can’t blame him for it, since we never talked or got along, but I feel slighted.

“You too.” I think to ask him about his wife and daughters, but they’ve been dead for years. One of the daughters was killed by a drunk driver before the flare, and his other daughter and wife succumbed to the strange plague that came immediately after. Lots of people did.

“Come on,” Jack says. He starts walking before I register his words and I have to scramble to catch up with him before he disappears into the tents.

“Where are we going?” I’m pretty sure this isn’t the way back to the tent I was in before.

He doesn’t reply. He stops in front of a big white tent - the sort people rent for outdoor events like weddings or parties - and pulls open the flap. It’s packed with army cots and outdoor recliners that have been flattened for use as a bed.

“Any open beds?” Jack calls to a woman nearby.

She pulls her toothbrush out of her mouth and uses it to gesture to the other side of the tent. “The one over there by me is free.”

“Great.” Jack turns to leave but I grab him by the arm.

“Wait, what?”

“This is your tent now,” he says, peeling my hand from his bicep.

“That’s it? No tour? What about - ?”

“Stiva,” Jack calls to the tooth-brushing woman again. “This one’s eggs are scrambled. Deal with her.”

And then he’s gone.

Stiva finishes brushing her teeth and looks me up and down. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail. That, coupled with her cargo pants and tank top, make her look like the single generic woman in any action film.

She must be smart or talented or important. August Walker only recruits useful people: doctors, engineers, plumbers and handymen, craftsmen, teachers, horse trainers and stable hands, architects, tailors, former military, and other things like that. And of course, prostitutes. I’m fairly certain Stiva isn’t a prostitute, though.

“What’s your name?” Stiva asks.

“Lilah.”

She looks me over again and seems to approve. “Stiva,” she replies. She walks me over to the other side of the tent and stows her toothbrush in a plastic box beneath her cot. “That one’s yours,” she says, nodding toward the one beside hers.

I sit awkwardly on the edge. There’s barely enough space between the cots for me to squeeze my legs in.

“You look star-struck,” she observes.

“Concussion,” I reply. “I’m pretty out of it.”

The thirty-something woman shakes her head. “No. I meant starstruck from meeting the boss.”

Now I really am confused. “What? How did - why do you know that?”

She rifles through the few personal items she has stashed under her cot. “I heard that some idiot with bangs tried to shoot the boss. I haven’t seen another grown woman with bangs in years so I assume that’s you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Are people talking about that a lot?”

“Not really,” she says, shrugging. “I only know cause I fuck Sy sometimes and he gets chatty after.”

“Sy?”

“He’s the boss’s right-hand-man,” she explains, frowning. “Nobody explained the chain of command?”

“If they did, I don’t remember it.”

“Did anybody even teach you the camp layout?”

“No. But I’ve been unconscious mostly so they never had the chance.”

She grunts and turns back to her cot. Finally she pulls out a french press and two cracked mugs. “Coffee?”

“God, yes.”

We go to one of the cooking fires at the center of camp for hot water. One of the cooks gives us some coffee grounds to use on the condition that Stiva make her a cup, too.

She looks me over, smirking, as we wait for the brew to steep. “You’re the boss’s new girl,” she says, half a question.

“Not yet,” Stiva says before I have the chance to reply. “If she was with him, she wouldn’t be out here slumming it with the rest of us.”

The water blackens and Stiva pours us each a mug. She thanks the cook before we turn back the way we came.

“I thought you said people weren’t talking about it,” I whisper to Stiva.

“I said they weren’t really talking about it.”

“So I’m supposed to fuck August Walker,” I say after a long silence. It’s not a surprise but I don’t like the fact that everyone in camp seems to know. Even as we walk back to our tent, I feel eyes on me. The camp seems big enough that one new person shouldn’t be so obvious.

I finally ask the question I’m most afraid to have answered, “What if I don't want to sleep with him?” I swallow hard. “Will he . . . Is he the sort of man that can take no for an answer?”

“I’ve never thought about that - what would happen if someone said no to him. No one has ever said no to him for anything except maybe Miss Ally,” she says contemplatively. It takes a beat for her to respond to my question. “I don’t think he’d force you into anything. He’s a dick but he’s also a gentleman, you know?”

I do know. “I don’t know. I’m almost positive my body is the only thing he wants from me. Not my professional expertise or know-how.” And who’s to say he won’t dispose of me if I don’t serve the one purpose I’m here for?

“I mean, can you do anything?” asks Stiva. “Anything useful?”

“I taught archery at a summer camp in Maine,” I offer.

She looks ambivalent.

“Why?” I ask, slightly embarrassed. Being an archer sounds cool, but until the flare happened, it didn't have much of a real-world application. “What can you do?”

“I’m a surveyor and a cartographer,” she says. “Used to work in real estate. Help builders figure out boundaries for new projects.”

“Oh.”

“But people here do all sorts of shit. There’s a dog breeder who used to raise pit bulls to be guard dogs for famous people; now they’re attack dogs for the boss. And there’s a twelve-year-old girl in our tent who’s a violin prodigy.” Stiva shrugs. “They keep anybody the boss might have a use for.”

“August Walker likes the violin?” I ask.

“Not as far as I know,” she says. “But he wants to preserve society and culture and all that for after.”

I follow her back into the tent. “After what?”

“After we settle somewhere for good.” She sits heavily on her cot. “The boss wants to make a new world in his image. Supposedly he’s got it all planned out.”

“That seems a little psycho.”

She stretches out on her back. “Sy told me that he used to be a doomsday prepper or something like that. He’s been waiting for the world to end for a while.”

I’m familiar with some of those rumors. August Walker was supposedly a would-be terrorist planning to cull the world’s population. Supposedly a bunch of powerful people were part of his cell - world leaders, even. As far as I know, they never put any of their plans into motion; the solar flare did their work for them.

***

Later in the evening, when the boss called for one of his usual girls from among the thirty-nine prostitutes in the camp, he imagined he was fucking Lilah instead of her. It made him furious, which made him rough. The prostitute would have more bruises than usual tomorrow.

He repaid her for the discomfort with an unopened bottle of tequila and a pair of diamond earrings stolen from a dead woman’s jewelry box during the last raid. That, coupled with the two orgasms he gave her, seemed more than enough compensation.

She left the tent late at night - he never let his women sleep there - and August was alone with his thoughts, which soon turned back to that stupid girl.

He wouldn’t give Lilah anything when he fucked her - and sooner or later he would fuck her. His favor would be more than enough compensation. She wouldn’t sleep in his tent, obviously, but he imagined her having a little tent of her own somewhere nearby so he could call for her whenever he wanted. And no one else would be allowed to fuck her.

He had a girl like that for a few months but he grew bored with her. When she asked his permission to leave camp and strike out on her own, he gave it willingly. She had the back of her hand tattooed with August’s mark before she left. It was essentially a guarantee of safe passage. No one would fuck with somebody associated with Walker, and if his men ever came in contact with her again, they’d know not to kill or hurt her.

Now he wanted someone like that again. That and more.

Someone who belonged exclusively to him not because the other men in camp were afraid to touch what was his, but because she didn’t want anyone other than him.

The last girl was an escort with a moderately successful OnlyFans account. She was essentially a prostitute. August liked that Lilah wasn’t.

Seducing her would give him something less mundane to do in his free time.

***

They try to integrate me into camp life over the next week. All in all it goes pretty well, but when they give me a bow and arrows to practice shooting, it becomes abundantly clear that the concussion has fucked up my long-distance vision. I can’t shoot shit. I don’t know if I’m going to be nearsighted forever or if it will clear up as I heal. Miss Ally is displeased.

It’s obvious that she is equal in rank to Walker, but on the civilian side of camp life. I get the impression they’ve known each other for a long time. She’s the only person in camp who doesn’t refer to or address him as the boss or just Boss. Always Mr. Walker. It’s still a respectful address, complete with a polite honorific, but just the fact that she uses his name seems oddly intimate, like maybe she knew who he was before he became one of the strongest warlords on the continent.

I don’t see Walker much. Meals are served in a huge clearing and most people eat together, so Walker is obliged to make an appearance most days, always at dinner. Most of us sit on the ground or in folding chairs but not him. He sits on a pale blue armchair that I think is made of velvet. The legs are gold and the back and arms are scalloped. I think it belonged to a woman before it became his throne.

The first time I see him at dinner, he keeps an eye on me throughout the meal, even though I’m nowhere near him. We make eye contact at one point. He smirks at me and takes a deep drink of his wine.

The second time I see him, he ignores me. Well maybe not ignores, but he doesn’t pay me any attention. I don’t know why but it annoys me.

Near the end of the meal, he crooks his finger at one of the prostitutes. They leave the clearing together, presumably to go off somewhere and fuck, and I’m almost offended by it. Then I come to my senses.

He’s a warlord, and true warlords have concubines. A lot of them. Just because he wants me doesn’t mean he wants me, exclusively.

For all I know, he’s got a girl from every settlement he raided. Maybe he keeps them as a token of victory.

That pisses me off. Men objectifying women, just like always. It may be the apocalypse, but I’m still a fucking feminist.

Walker doesn’t make an appearance at dinner again for two days. I’m filling my plate when he joins us on the third night. I know without looking that he’s here; the sudden quiet tells me all I need to know.

Things slowly start up again as I heap chicken and instant mashed potatoes onto my plate. It’s only when one of the cooks gives me a forceful tap on the shoulder that I look up.

“What?”

“He’s looking at you,” the woman says through her teeth. She swings her head toward August Walker. He lazes in his blue chair like a king at a feast. When we lock eyes, he smirks at me, then motions with his forefinger for me to come to him, just like he did with that prostitute the other night.

I don’t move.

“What are you doing?” the cook says. “Go!”

“If he wants to talk, he can come to me.” I’m not a hooker or a dog. I won’t just come running at his beck and call.

The cook looks at me like I’m an idiot.

It’s a dumb issue to take a stance on, especially when it seems my survival is contingent on letting him fuck me.

I seek Stiva out in the crowd. I haven’t made it halfway over to her before that kid - Jack, I think his name is - intercepts me.

“Boss wants a word.”

They’ve set up what appears to be an old Ikea office chair next to Walker’s surrogate throne. He gestures for me to sit when I get close enough. I flop down, making the chair groan.

Walker studies me for a long moment. He looks amused but pleased, too. All I can think about as his eyes rake over me are how blue they are and how the color of his chair accentuates them. “How have you been, Delilah?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No.”

I shrug. “I can’t complain.”

“That’s it?” he asks, bemused.

“What else should there be?”

Walker takes a deep breath through his nose and settles back in his chair. “I know for a fact how unstable your town was. I did my research. Most of it was already in disrepair, and the crime rates before the flare were . . . high. Here, you have a roof over your head and three meals a day.”

Not really a roof, but . . .

“I had a roof over my head before.”

“What did you have to do to get it?” he asks, voice gravelly and low.

“I’m not a prostitute,” I say defensively. “I told you that.”

“I’m not necessarily saying you are.”

“Necessarily?”

He leans back in his chair. “You’re a survivor. You did whatever it was you had to do to stay alive in that shithole.”

Now I get it. “And you think I’ll do whatever I have to do to stay alive here.”

He sips his wine in reply, his gaze never leaving mine. He doesn’t speak when he’s done, just swirls the purple wine around in his glass.

“You’re not eating,” I observe.

“I hardly ever eat the plain food,” he says.

I remember Stiva saying that there’s a hipster chef who forages for his ingredients somewhere in the camp, and that he cooked for the highest-ranking people. He was one of those chefs that foraged for his ingredients before that was necessary. I think I followed him on Instagram back before the flare.

“You ought to join me,” Walker continues. “Something tells me you appreciate a good meal.” His voice is like liquid sex. He’s a terrifying, ruthless warlord who’s done things so horrible I can’t even imagine them, but damn if he isn’t the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

The pretty ones are always assholes.

I level my gaze at him. “Are you asking me on a date?”

He actually throws his head back and laughs. It’s booming; conversations pause and heads turn at the unfamiliar sound. He has the sort of laughter that would be infectious if he weren’t so scary.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he finally says.

“I won’t just spread my legs for a good meal,” I say, but it honestly depends on how good the meal is.

Walker is exasperated. “Is sex the only thing you think about?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“No,” he agrees. “You’re rude, but you’re not an idiot.”

“You’re an asshole.” The words fall out before I can stop them. I slap my hand over my mouth like some idiot in a movie, as if that will undo what I just said. Why did I say that?

He’s going to hit me. Or shoot me. He’s going to do something to me and it won’t be good. Lilah, you stupid fucking idiot.

“No one speaks to me the way you do,” Walker says to me. “It’s refreshing, frankly.” His tone changes. “But don’t push it, especially when there are other people who can hear you. You won’t like the consequences.”

Walker downs the rest of his wine and stands. A handful of men scattered around us rise, too, and move toward him. His entourage, I guess. For a moment I think they’re each going to grab a limb and haul me away to some torture chamber or old-fashioned stockades, but they barely even glance my way.

Walker smiles wolfishly. “I’ll send someone to fetch you before dinner tomorrow. Find something nice to wear.” And off he goes.

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spitpr1ncess · 3 years

Text

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #Nanamin #nanami fanfic #archive of our own #spitprincess #spitty #my own work #original content #nanami x femme reader #kento #kento nanami x redaer

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i-love-hobbies · 3 years

Text

The biggest criticism Lilith's redemption arc gets and Eda's biggest strength

(ft. me getting completely side tracked and wanting a Hooty redemption arc)

Ok, so firstly I wanna talk about real life and then say how it was done in the owl house.

I hate the words "Everyone should get what they deserve." Cause firstly this never happens, secondly, the words are very vague and it opens a window of miscommunication and thirdly, cause in Lilith's case they are focused at, she needs to be hurt in order to change.

There are even people that have said that they are looking forward to watching Lilith suffer (I don't know if I've said it on the internet but I was one of them.)

Revenge has been proven to not make people feel better. And a lot of therapists usually say you need to forgive people. That doesn't mean fix the relationship, it means try to stop wishing they get hurt. Cause the feeling is only hurting you.

Also it's a normal human feeling to be angry, so no I'm not calling people monsters for this. And forgiveness is a hard process that takes a lot of work, but it usually isn't helped by hurting others.

The words people usually use to defend this sentence are:

"Consequences change people's minds or at the very least make them scared of doing it again."

Ok so how about we use this sentence instead, it's short enough and the main mission now is keeping ourselves safe Instead of it being hurting someone, you're still wishing it but it's not the main goal, it's a secondary one.

Well, cause it immediately shows two issues both statements have.

Firstly a friendship with someone that wants to hurt you but is scared of doing so is not a healthy one, cause they'll just try to be sneaky. You can only do it with people that aren't close to you like how the authorities do it towards criminals.

Secondly punishments rarely change people's minds. They've never worked on me, especially when you attack my identity, cause this way you make it even worse. And expecting that you can change someone usually means you're about to fail.

"But we can't get rid of punishments, people will hurt us."

I'm not saying we should. I'm saying our main goal should be our safety and hurting them may happen but it shouldn't be important.

Or better yet:

"Building healthy boundaries to the point where you're not getting hurt anymore, but not going overboard."

Examples:

- You have a friend you see Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. But on Wednesdays, after work, they usually are very ignorant of your feelings and sometimes joke at your expense. So you stop going out at Wednesdays.

They might never ask why you did it and that's ok, cause you're not getting hurt anymore.

But usually they do ask why? You explain to them the issue with respect, don't call them names.

Some people will change after this and you can get rid of the boundary later on.

Other people may acknowledge this and say it's a good idea, cause they are overwhelmed, but never change.

Other other people may start hurting you even more. You build the boundaries even more, sometimes to the point you cut them out of your life, even if they weren't hurting you intentionally.

Which is completely ok if you can't maintain contact without being hurt.

- Eda's handling of Gwendolyn's cures is another good one. She never called her names or anything. She just made sure that Gwen can't hurt her anymore. Cause it wasn't only the cures. Eda's feelings were always getting ignored. She literally couldn't talk with her about anything other than the curse. Her emotions were getting neglected.

- Eda's handling of Tibbles is also an interesting example.

At first after the scamming she just left him. She couldn't see how he could hurt her.

And in episode 14 she killed him. Cause he showed that he would do anything to murder her dump kids and knew their address. Almost same story with Adegast.

Yes murder in this extreme cases can be a healthy boundary.

Lilith's relationships with the owl fam

King:

King didn't know Lilith was living with them and knows about her neglect.

Luz:

Luz would only stand up for others never for herself which is very unhealthy. I don't know if she forgave Lilith, but I can see her not mentioning it if she hasn't and playing along as a teacher.

"The real mystery is how she can be both so smart and yet so wrong at the same time. Academics, am I right?"

The closest one to her she has roasted like this, is her mentor, who firstly makes people feel safe.

"EDA, You're embarrassing me Infront of my crew." - Raine, after thirty years of not seeing her.

Secondly, she was being a jerk, she was teaching Luz about cards while she was begging for magic lessons and was not getting it for weeks.

"Cards, the paper rectangles that old people think are fun."

Heck, she might even be scared of Lilith. She almost got killed.

So far I don't have a reason to think she likes her. She hasn't really talked with her or about her much.

Eda:

Eda has already shown that she can handle conflicts in relationships. Like in episode 9, where she got Luz into Hexside and everything I already said.

I made an entire post about Eda being too emotional and I still stand by it, but serious situations that have to do with relationships, she usually is very rational and good at handling them. Probably because of the curse making her afraid of her anger and countless people attacking her.

At the beginning of the series Eda probably was expecting that the worst case scenario would be for Lilith to catch her and if Lilith isn't given the time to realise what she did, she'd be killed and best case scenario Lilith changes.

Episode 5, where Lilith burned down her wanted posters, episode 8 where Lilith was gonna get her straight in the coven instead of arresting her, episode 11, where Lilith said she wanted for Eda to join on her own and episode 17, where they played grudgby.

Proved to her even more that Lilith cares a lot for her and maybe she will change.

Then episode 18 happened and King wanting hugs and Luz's "Let me die!" Suddenly the worst case scenario became not her dieing but her dieing and the trauma the kids will experience. The fact that they won't have her in their lifes.

Lilith says "Then why were you so easy to curse?!?" This does not sound like "I accidentally did this and I'm sorry." No, Eda thought Lilith did this on purpose. And now her kids might get killed by her own sister cause she was too naive to trust her.

From now on I don't think she was trying to kill her cause Lilith isn't dangerous without raw power like Adegast and Tibbles, but to disable her is a possibility.

To add to this Eda wasn't rational almost throughout the entire finale. She probably didn't pick up on the line "If you would just let me explain." Just like she didn't question why Lilith was thrown in a cage.

Then she learns that Lilith commited treason together with her kids and started feeling like she doesn't know the full story, but Lilith is still a caring person. So she jumps Infront of the beam to save both Lilith and King.

Afterwards Lilith shares the curse and has nowhere to go if she gets kicked out so there is no reason to believe that she would hurt them physically.

I know in a post I said I don't think she fully processed the situation with Lilith. But now I think I was only half right.

She didn't fully process how much she was hurt but she understood Lilith's situation. Forgave her as soon as possible, not immediately. But that doesn't mean she rebuilded the relationship as soon as she forgave her.

First of, the forgiveness part happened after episode 1. The entire episode she was guilt tripping her, which I don't think was helping the situation. It makes Lilith more emotional which then makes it harder for her to face reality.

I'm not calling Eda a bad person for this but I do think it was a mistake.

What wasn't a mistake but a good thing is Eda wasn't the one to listen to her problems, it was Hooty. Cause her emotional health matters too and standing in one room with her sister is challenging.

And now I'm wondering does Eda know about how Lilith was treated by both the coven and their parents.

Eda calling Lilith a tool, seems to me more of them competing with each other rather than the recent events. Also Lilith forcing her rules without saying why they are there.

I'm glad the episode ended with them switching roles, where Lilith is now more powerful. Though I'm pretty sure the roles are getting switched again.

So what about the rebuilding of the relationship or should I say trust.

Well they didn't show us much, but I think the trust isn't fully back.

Cause she has only been proving that she can be physically trusted like when she saved King's life.

Eda never opens up, which is unhealthy. But in this case it's a healthy boundary, cause King did it and he got Lilith projecting onto him.

Lilith isn't good at being mentally supportive and still has bad habits.

Lulu and Hootsifer

Hooty helping Lilith was something, she really needed and didn't take for granted, cause the only one to ever even consider this is Eda.

They are buddies that look out for each other. I wouldn't say they talk a lot about feelings as they have no idea how to do that, but there are examples where they do.

Like "What kind of a witch am I?" and Hooty's letter.

Her letter for Hooty, was supportive, but ignored the issue of Hooty always being in people's personal space.

Which led to Hooty drugging Eda, kidnapping three children and almost killing said kids when his plans didn't work the way he wanted. He also ate the letter for King.

I want a Hooty redemption arc, now!

#toh #the owl house #eda clawthorne #toh eda #eda the owl lady #edalyn clawthorne #the owl lady #lilith clawthorne #toh lilith #toh Luz #luz noceda #toh king #king clawthorne #hooty #toh hooty #lulu and hootsifer

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wisteriashouse · 3 years

Note

I saw percy jackson au! one the troupe's list and i never tap the ask button this fast/no. Maybe a drabble where kyo and his team lost against gn reader on capture the flag because reader keeps distracting him when they're facing each other so reader's team can take the flag? (Let's say that kyo is the strongest opponent since he can wields sword better than anyone else 😂)

Also who do u think kyo's immortal parent is? I can picture him being an apollo's son since kyo always reminded me of the sun itself hshshs -✨

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x gn!reader

genre: fluff; pjo!au

word count: 1899

a/n: rip word count and the word drabble but here it is!! might do a pjo! au headcanon one day... this event really is no good for my soul... i hope you enjoy it!!

“Do you think we can win?”

It’s Tanjirou’s first Capture The Flag game, bless the sweet kid’s innocent soul, you think. Both of you are crouched behind a line of bushes near Zephyrus’ Creek together with the rest of your team - Blue, for this round - your weapons in hand as you wait for the scouts you’d sent out to return.

“Well, it’s hard to say.” You try to be positive, waving your hand vaguely. Tanjirou’s eyes are fixed on you, wide with curiosity. It’s only his first week here, so he hasn’t had a chance to meet most of the older campers that have been away on missions. Lucky for him that Sanemi is probably still somewhere out in the strait of Messina with Tomioka hunting Charybdis, you think. The poor kid would have been scared off in seconds. “There are some people who could probably change the tide, but most of those people are off doing solo missions away from Camp Half Blood, so our teams are pretty balanced at the moment-”

“He’s back!” You rise to your feet at the noise to see Zenitsu (a son of Zeus), one of the scouts your team had sent out earlier, splashing his way back across the river. “Rengoku is back in Camp Half Blood!”

All around you, a collective groan rises into the air, the Athena campers behind you grumbling about how their strategies are all messed up now and they need to regroup.

“Shot at me, the second I breathed in the flag’s direction. Missed me on purpose too, just to show off.” Grumbling when he finally reaches your team’s side of the river, Zenitsu gratefully accepts Tanjirou’s outstretched hand, the younger boy pulling him into the shelter of the bushes. “Guess we’ll be doing clean up duty for the whole of next week.”

“Now, now, Zenitsu, don’t give up so fast.” You nudge the younger boy in the side encouragingly. He’s sopping wet from his little swim in the river. “There’s still a chance! We still have Muichirou and Shinobu on our team, don’t we?”

Zenitsu lets out a whine. “But they’re not Rengoku.” He complains. The entire time, Tanjirou glances between the two of you, confused.

“Who’s Rengoku?”

“He’s head counselor for the Apollo cabin.” Zenitsu explains, wiping the river water off his lightning spear. “He’s one of the best fighters in the entire camp, on par with even the head counselor of the War God’s cabin, Shinazugawa Sanemi! Not to mention that he’s handsome and cool and half of the Aphrodite kids can’t help falling over themselves every time he walks by, asking him to teach them how to write love sonnets.” He gags at the words. "As if they aren't just waiting to take a piece out of him, the damn piranhas."

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. “Well, he does write very good love poems,” you supply helpfully, and Zenitsu rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes, of course you would know, since-”

“[last], we have a new plan!” Shinobu calls airily from behind you, interrupting Zenitsu. Turning around, you see the daughter of Hecate striding up to you with a smile on her face. It’s one that you’ve seen all too many times when she’s plotting something, and now that you’re on the receiving end of that smile, you’re not quite sure that you like it.

You squint at her suspiciously. “What is it?”

“You,” Shinobu answers with her usual smile, pausing for dramatic effect, “will be in charge of distracting Kyoujurou!”

You stare at her for a moment before you shake your head furiously. “No, no, no, there’s no way I’m doing that. I’d be shot full of arrows like a porcupine before I so much as touch the flag - I’d rather clean the Pegasus stalls for a week.”

“Oh, come on, have a little confidence in yourself!” Shinobu hums, the expression on her face practically radiating nefarious intent behind her sweet smile. “There’s no way he would hurt you, he’s your boyfriend, after all.”

To your side, you see Tanjirou’s mouth form a silent ‘o’ of realization, piecing together everything you and Zenitsu had been conversing about earlier. Flustered, you shake your head again.

“This isn’t going to work!” You insist, even as Shinobu tugs you to your feet and steers you in the direction of the river. “Shinobu, you know what Kyoujurou is like! He isn’t going to be distracted by me at all!”

“Oh, I know Rengoku very well,” Shinobu’s eyes curve into little crescents. “I think you’ll find yourself surprised, [last]. All you need to do is distract Rengoku, we’ll do the rest. Our entire team is counting on you!”

Helplessly, you turn to the two boys crouched behind the bushes. Zenitsu looks like he’s trying his best not to burst into laughter, and Tanjirou, the pure hearted boy, only gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

With a sigh, you turn around and march into the Red Team’s territory all alone.

It doesn’t take you long to reach the flag.

Although not quite as talented in direct combat as some of your fellow campers are, you’re skilled in your own ways as well, moving silently through the underbrush and disabling any traps that you’ve found - products of the Hephaestus cabin, no doubt. After narrowly avoiding springing a Greek fire trap, you manage to make your way to the location of the flag completely undetected.

Sidling up behind a tree, you glance around the trunk to observe the battle ground. And just as you do-

Thunk!

You barely dodge out of the way in time, a blur of gold embedding itself in the wood of the tree you’re taking cover behind. So Zenitsu was right - he really is back from his mission, and although the two of you are on opposing sides for this Capture The Flag match, you’re happy to know that he’s back safe and sound, uninjured enough to participate in this game.

“Is that you, darling?” He calls out, and you have to hold back your smile at the pet name. You haven’t seen him in a week, and hearing his voice after so long makes you want to just rush out to give him a hug. “I know it’s you, love.”

“It’s been a week since you’ve seen me last, and an arrow to the face is how you greet me?” You call out from behind the tree, slightly teasing. “I’m hurt, Kyo.”

“I knew you’d be able to dodge it.” Kyoujurou laughs. When you peer behind the tree again, you see your boyfriend standing there in his orange Camp Half Blood tee and jeans, leisurely nocking another arrow into his bow. “I won’t go easy on you if you attempt to steal the flag.”

“I’m not here for the flag,” you answer, and it’s only a half lie when you continue. “I’m here because I missed you.”

If you were even a little less observant, you would have missed the way Kyoujurou’s hands falter ever so slightly in the midst of nocking his arrow, before he covers it up with one of his usual booming laugh. “You’re not going to distract me like that!” He declares, and you stifle a quiet laugh of your own, your heart beating a little faster in your chest. “But,” his voice softens, “I missed you too, when I was away. One week felt like forever to me.”

Warmth touches your cheeks, but before you can smile too much, you smack your cheek lightly. Get it together, you scold yourself, you’re supposed to be distracting him, not the other way around!

With that, you take a deep breath and rise to your feet. You could never hope to beat Kyoujurou face on in combat, but you don’t have to - all you need to do is to distract him so that Shinobu can do... whatever she has planned.

You step out from behind the tree, and immediately Kyoujurou’s golden eyes lock onto you. You take the time to take in his handsome features, the warmth in his eyes, the fresh band-aid on his left cheek, did he get injured while on his mission?

“Changing strategy, love?” Kyoujurou calls out, looking amused. He tightens his grip on the bow when you take a single step forward. “Ah, ah, stay right there, or I’ll shoot.”

A frisson of excitement runs through you at the words, and you halt your steps, looking up at Kyoujurou with a smile. At this range, Kyoujurou has no chance of missing - you’ve seen him strike targets from yards away. “You won’t shoot me,” you hum, and with that, you take another step forward. True to Shinobu’s words, he lifts the bow, but makes no move to draw.

“I missed you very much, Kyoujurou. I did read all the poems you left for me, but it doesn’t feel as nice when it’s not your voice reading them to me.” You lower your voice to a soft, longing tone. It’s not hard, considering just how badly you’ve yearned to see him over the past week. “It just made me miss you even more.”

You see a tinge of pink touch Kyoujurou’s cheeks. “I’ll read them for you tonight, if you want.” Taking another step forward, you gesture at his cheek. “Did you get hurt on your mission?”

“No, I got it while shaving today morning. I was distracted because I was too excited about coming back.” Kyoujurou lets out a sheepish laugh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see some bushes rustle behind Kyoujurou.

“Well, you’re home now.” You’re almost within Kyoujurou’s reach now. If he decides to tackle you to the ground, you’d be out of the game even before you can so much as say ‘Zeus’. “With me.”

“Now!”

All of a sudden, a weighted net falls out of nowhere onto the both of you, and you’re sent falling by its weight. Before you can hit the ground, however, Kyoujurou wraps you securely in his arms, taking the brunt of the impact as you end up on his chest.

“Kyo!”

“Very well done, [last]!” Shinobu’s voice chirps from behind you, and you turn around to see Shinobu striding up to the both of you, the Mist melting off her. From beneath you, Kyoujurou laughs loudly, his chest shaking from amusement.

“This was your doing, wasn’t it, Kochou?” Kyoujurou shakes his head, a smile still on his lips. To the side, another figure slips out of the darkness, fingers wrapping around the flag Kyoujurou had been guarding before his entire body leaves the shadows.

“You just had to use [last] as a part of your plan.” Obanai says accusingly, jabbing his finger at Shinobu. The daughter of Hecate only shrugs innocently. “I had to watch all of that flirting, I don't think my eyes will ever recover. I'll need to wash them out with bleach,” he shudders in disgust. “I’m never going along with your plan again.”

“Now, now, there's no need to be such a drama queen." Shinobu tilts her head to the side, her smile still perfectly in place. "We won, so there’s no harm, is there? I’ll be sure to do the same for you when Kanroji returns from her exchange with Camp Jupiter.”

“You’ll do no such thing, you-”

With a shake of the head, you turn back to Kyoujurou, who’s still fighting to keep down his laughter. Gently, you let the pads of your fingers trace his face, his cheekbones, his defined jawline, before you tap at his lips, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile as he looks up at you.

“Welcome back, Kyo.” You whisper, and lean down to kiss him.

#rengoku #rengoku fanfic #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro #kyoujurou #rengoku kyojuro x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fanfiction #demon slayer kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kimetsu rengoku #kimetsu kyojuro #kny fanfic #kny kyojuro #kny

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Another One?!, Part 2

First > Next

Years passed them by. It’s funny how that happens when no one in the house has a distinct schedule to follow.

The hours blending together was actually really good for them as vigilantes. People couldn’t just plan around their normal patrolling hours.

Also, it meant that they could take days off without anyone thinking much of it.

Like today.

He glared at his reflection, touching his hair for the millionth time in an attempt to fix it. Or, rather, un-fix it. He was going for a messier look, why couldn’t he just get it to cooperate?

He gave his wife a pleading look. “Help?”

She clicked her tongue and looked him up and down a few times to get a gauge for his outfit (which he had purposely made too vague for her to get an idea of what they were doing) then rested her hands on her hips. “Well, I’d love to help…”

“But…?”

“But I can’t use my expertise unless I know where we’re going. There’s certain looks for different occasions, after all.”

He sighed. “C’mon…”

She bit her lip. “Fine. Just tell me how formal I need to be.”

“Casual…” He hesitated as he mulled it over. “But not jeans casual, more like day-dress casual. And wear darker colors, you could get stains on it.”

“There, was that so hard?”

He raised his eyebrow at her. “Considering I’m sure you’ve now guessed the surprise, I’m going to say yes.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

He pouted. Man. He’d been so careful about keeping everything a secret from her. It was their tenth anniversary, he’d wanted to surprise her. He’d pulled out all the stops, even using cash for the tickets so she wouldn’t have an easy way to trace the payments.

Only to have it spoiled because of his hair.

Dang.

Then, she laughed and he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that she’d found out. The smile was worth it.

She reached up and started running her fingers through his hair. “As always, your problem is that you use too much hair gel… you never learn, do you…?”

“Maybe I do it on purpose to make you mess with my hair.”

She gave him a skeptical look and then pulled away. “Done. Time to get ready for… a carnival…? No… a circus.”

He pouted.

Marinette gave him another one of those laughs before slipping into the bathroom to change.

Two hours later they sat in a circus tent. Front-row seats, of course, they weren’t stingy.

She rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for everything to start. He stole some of her popcorn and smiled at the halfhearted glare he earned. His smile dropped when she dropped some onto his head. He pulled away from her to try and pick the pieces out.

“C’mon, Mari, my hair took so long. The paparazzi always checks on us on our anniversaries. I’m a model, you can’t do this to me --.”

And then the lights dimmed. And the ringmaster walked out.

The both of them tensed. The crowd was buzzing with excitment, but the two vigilantes gave each other wary looks. The ringmaster seemed almost anxious, his knuckles white on his cane.

Still, he gave a brilliant smile to the crowd as he announced the first act.

They relaxed the longer they watched. Nothing seemed to be going wrong, the contortionist was absolutely fine. So was the person doing aerial silks, and the clowns, the snake charmer…

Maybe the ringmaster was just new. He seemed to be growing more and more confident with each act. False alarm.

But then the trapeze artists came onstage.

Marinette murmured something about their outfits that he didn’t catch but knew was insulting.

The young performer smiled and waved to the crowd, then started climbing the opposite ladder as his parents.

The mom grabbed ahold of the trapeze and smiled as she hooked her knees over the bar, then held her hands out for her husband. The man jumped out and caught her hands.

And then the wire snapped.

The couple barely had a chance to scream before they hit the dirt.

The tent was completely silent.

And then the chaos started. Parents rushed to cover their kids’ eyes, people stumbled over each other as they ran, others surged forward to see better.

He could feel Marinette hop the railing in front of them to go check their pulses. There was no need, everyone could see it plainly, but she still tried.

Adrien didn’t move, his eyes locked on the kid.

He was standing there. He was hugging himself tightly, shaking, tears spilling over his cheeks.

He needed help.

A hand wrapped around his wrist. Marinette was pulling him out of the tent. He didn’t want to leave the kid alone but he couldn’t do that as Adrien Agreste. They needed to transform.

It took way too long to find a hiding place because people were already hiding in every obvious place they could think of. After a while they just broke into a trailer and dropped some money on the counter as an apology, unable to waste any more time.

They ran back into the tent and found that, to their horror, the police were there already.

Marinette mumbled a curse. “You deal with the kid, I’m going to steal some evidence before they get rid of it all.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and then practically disappeared.

Adrien found his way over to the child, who had been covered in a shock blanket. They flinched when he got closer and he gave his most award-winning smile as he held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I don’t want to hurt you, I promise.”

They looked kind of skeptical, but they did scoot over a little on their bench so he could sit down.

He sat as far away as he could, setting his baton at his feet carefully. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

His eyes never wavered from the front of the tent. It was like he was waiting for something or someone, but Adrien couldn’t guess what.

“Dick.”

“Well, Dick, do you have any family that I can take you to?”

Maybe that was what he was waiting for --?

“No.”

His smile disappeared. Ah. Not great.

He followed his gaze to the door and mulled everything over.

The kid didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, the shock was wearing off but it would still make the passage of time kind of weird for him. Adrien could take the time to think his next words through.

He’d met kids who had lost their last remaining family members before. Sometimes Marinette and Adrien just couldn’t get there in time and she wouldn’t be able to bring them back. It was an inevitable and unfortunately common part of their jobs. But every single time felt like a punch to the gut.

But he couldn’t let that show, not really.

He watched the kid out of the corner of his eyes. You always base your approach on how the kid is reacting in the moment. Some wanted open comfort, but this one didn’t want that if the way he’d flinched when Adrien had come close was any indication. Others wanted to just talk, also not going to happen considering the short answers he’d been given thus far. This kid seemed to just want to be left alone, but leaving a child in a vulnerable state was never a good idea.

So, what was he supposed to do?

He sighed. “I’m really sorry about what happened, these kinds of accidents --.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Adrien blanked. “Sorry?”

“It wasn’t an accident.” Dick hugged the blanket tighter around himself. “There was two guys. Mean-looking. Tried to get Mr. Haly to do some… protection payments? Left all mad and stuff. Said they would get paid or get payback.”

He was so shocked that the kid had given an answer with more than a few words in it that his brain buzzed right past the information he was given and he had to backtrack to actually process it.

And, when he did, his fists clenched.

“Did they mention any names?” He asked quietly, fighting to keep his voice level. This was still a kid who needs help, he couldn’t allow his anger to mess that up.

“Zucco.”

Adrien filed that information away for later and then gave the kid a once-over. They were no longer staring at the door, instead just fidgeting under their blanket. It was good that they were coming out of shock, but he doubted that Dick would see it that way. The numbness would be wearing off soon, and the feelings that would come to take its place would be painful.

He did the only thing he could think of: try and distract the kid. Good to see he’s passing on the unhealthy coping mechanisms.

“Hey, are you going to stay in the circus?”

“Can I?” Said Dick. He didn’t seem all that excited, just confused. As if he hadn’t thought that an option.

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, there’s that whole thing about ‘running away and joining the circus’. Even if they force you into an orphanage, you can probably just come back here.”

“I hear orphanages suck.”

True. He doubted that Dick would get the mental health treatment he needed (if he got any at all) and the money at those kinds of places were always stretched thin, especially in Gotham. He didn’t like the idea of sending the kid there, but what other choices did he have?

Before he could really think of an answer a hand clapped itself over his shoulder.

He barely even looked back. He knew who it was going to be. He fought back a groan.

“Ross,” he said, the smile on his face becoming more strained. He wasn’t going to fight in front of Dick, the kid was already stressed enough. “Nice to see you again.”

The cop didn’t seem all that concerned about niceties, his grip tightening on Adrien’s shoulder. “Get away from my witness.”

“He has a name. And he doesn’t know anything. Leave him alone.”

Dick frowned. “But I --.”

Marinette popped up out of nowhere, arms crossed over her chest as she openly glared at the officer. “You guys should keep better track of the evidence you actually do have, someone might take it.”

Officer Ross went pale and then ran to his partner to ask where the evidence was.

Adrien was also pale, though for different reasons. This kid didn’t know that the police were corrupt and that telling them anything would likely end in him getting killed? He couldn’t let that happen. Where could he keep him that they wouldn’t check? An orphanage or the circus wouldn’t work, those would be the first places they’d go…

He brought a smile to his face as he carefully leaned towards the kid. To his delight, he didn’t flinch or lean away. Progress!

“Hey, I’ve got some friends that I think I can give you to. Good people. They’ll take care of you until we can find something more permanent, sound good?”

Dick looked a little skeptical but he nodded.

Adrien carefully scooped the kid up in his arms and looked at his wife. “I’m going to take him, you can go home for the night and relax.” He sent her a discreet wink.

She smiled faintly and gave Dick a tiny wave before slipping out of the tent.

Good. She’d understood.

She had definitely not understood.

You see, winks are ambiguous.

Adrien’s wink had meant ‘Get home and brush up on your acting skills because we need to sell this’.

She had thought his wink had meant ‘It’s our anniversary and we shouldn’t be working anyways. Go ahead and head home, we’ve already done too much and I want to relax with my darling wife’.

So, when she’d gotten home she’d detransformed and slipped into some comfy pajamas and plopped herself down on the couch to watch some TV.

And then the door had opened.

She’d smiled and poked her head up. “Back already? That was quick --.”

Adrien was still holding Dick to himself.

Tikki gave a quiet gasp of surprise and zipped between the couch cushions.

Her husband smiled. “Hey, can I cash in a favor?”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, and then pursed her lips tightly. She couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, because now that she thought about it they really didn’t have any other options (kids have a tendency to have no filter and this one seemed to lack any common sense at all if she was judging by his outfit)...

Didn’t mean she couldn’t be bitter. They should have had more of a conversation about this than a wink, and she was going to tell him that:

“I don’t know, Chat, my husband isn’t here right now. This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to discuss with your partner.”

Adrien winced almost imperceptibly and had the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sure he’d be fine with it. Please, I have nowhere else I can take him.”

She bit her lip and looked at the kid, then squeezed her eyes shut.

There was a more selfish reason that they both wanted to do this…

They wanted kids. It had just never really been an option for them. If she wanted to get pregnant, she would pretty much have to give up crime-fighting for those nine months (and possibly permanently, that stuff has long-term effects). They couldn’t really bring themselves to adopt, either, because their lives were hectic and every single book in the world says that adoptees need a stable home.

She couldn’t let their wishes cloud their judgment. She was supposed to be the rational one. They would certainly mess this kid up, taking him wasn’t an option…

But leaving him wasn’t an option…

And it was kind of like the universe was dropping Dick into their laps…

Dick started to sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes. Damn. She’d taken too long and now he felt rejected.

Her heart clenched. The kid didn’t deserve this...

“I… we can take him… but only temporarily. We need to find a better home for him eventually.”

It was best that none of them got their hopes up. This wasn’t a good solution, just the only one they could think of at the moment. At some point they’d think of a better one, and they’d have to do that.

Adrien and Dick both nodded.

Marinette slowly walked over and leaned down slightly to be at the kid’s eye level. “I’m Marinette Agreste. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Richard. You can call me Dick, though.”

Listen. She wasn’t proud of what she’d said. But she’d never heard it before -- she was far less social than Adrien was -- and, really, how do you get the name ‘Dick’ from ‘Richard’?

“I don’t think you understand how much I cannot do that.”

Adrien had had to set Dick down, he was laughing so hard.

When he came home (as Adrien, this time), he was surprised to see Marinette stress baking.

He wasn’t sure why he was surprised, adopting a child is a stressful situation even if you had been expecting it. And they definitely had not been expecting it.

He watched her bake for a moment in the doorway.

She clicked her tongue. “Are you just going to watch me bake or are you going to come inside? Or do I have to make a ‘look what the cat dragged in’ joke everytime I see you, now?”

He smiled and took a seat on the counter. “What’re you making?”

“Cookies.” She turned around for some flour and then sent him a half-hearted glare when she saw him sitting next to it. “I was using that counter.”

“Unfortunate.”

Marinette clicked her tongue again and then moved to another spot. “When...” She grimaced a little. “When… the kid wakes up from a nightmare -- because there’s no way that he wouldn’t have one after tonight -- I’d like to at least have something sweet ready for him. I know we’re not his parents or whatever, but he should at least feel welcome while he’s here.”

He sobered a little, pulling a knee to his chest. “The whole vigilante thing… we’re going to have to put it on hold for a little while, you know…”

“There’s no way we can properly take care of a kid and be Chat Noir and Ladybug. Or, at least, we’d need to make some changes.” She procured a whisk out of seemingly nowhere and started whisking the batter.

He raised his eyebrows. “Changes?”

“We could take shifts. I’d take night shifts as Ladybug and day shifts parenting the kid. You do the opposite.”

“We’d burn out,” said Adrien with a sigh.

“Well, what are we supposed to do? Give the city over to Superman? Guy is shady enough as it is.”

He rolled his eyes. “He’s not shady, you just can’t handle people being nice to you.”

“MY POINT IS that we can’t just stop protecting the city. Especially not if the mob is going after circuses of all things.”

“Yeah, why are they doing that? Is there really money from circuses? Aren’t they all going out of fashion because of that whole ‘animal abuse’ thing most of them have going on?”

“As they should,” she murmured. She finished whisking and started searching for something in the drawers. She procured a scoop and started making rows of cookies. “But, probably, smuggling. No one bats an eye when circuses cross borders, that’s kind of their whole thing.”

He nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Still seems like a hassle, especially now that they’re probably going to be more heavily regulated because those people died.”

“Well, hopefully their sacrifice won’t be in vain. The bit of trapeze wire I stole from the police might give us some leads on the guy’s pseuds.”

“Are you calling up Nygma?”

She shrugged and set the cookies in the oven. “Kinda. He hasn’t done anything in three months, so he’s due any day now. I’ll talk to him about it after saving whoever he captured this time… unless you want to talk to him instead?”

He grinned. “No, I could never go instead of you. You like making fun of his outfit too much.”

“Awwww, thanks, Chaton,” she cooed. She took a seat next to him and pressed a short kiss to his lips. “You know me so well.”

“Well, we’ve been partners for fifteen years. You’d hope I’d know you by now.”

She smiled faintly and leaned into him. She watched the timer tick down for a little while in silence, biting her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“I mean, even if the trapeze was sabotaged, what are the chances that the acid is something special that we can trace to him? One of us is going to have to go undercover.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave Dick alone?”

“There’s no way Zucco is only going after this one place. We can’t take back what’s happened to him, but we can at least make sure he’s the only one to have to go through this.”

Adrien frowned. She was right, though he hated it. While they had given themselves the obligation of taking care of Dick, they couldn’t just drop everything for him. Especially considering their jobs.

“Okay, M’lady, what’s the plan?”

“Well, I hear that the circus is looking for new trapeze artists.”

She smiled as she set the last of the cookies in the Tupperware and started heading towards Dick’s new room.

Her conversation with Adrien had gone a lot better than she was expecting, honestly. She’d explained her reasoning for why it would be safe now and he’d, however reluctantly, agreed that she’d made sense.

She decided she’d wait a few days for everything to end up in the news properly before asking to join the circus. After all, it would be suspicious if she called just a few hours after a tragedy.

She stopped outside the former guest room and considered knocking… and then decided she’d better not. On the off chance that Dick wasn’t having a nightmare, she didn’t want to wake him.

She pressed the door open and then stopped cold when she saw that the kid was crying.

Marinette glanced behind her, wondering if she could get away with just walking past and acting like she was going to the bathroom or something. She wasn’t good with emotions, not with people close to her. Random people on the street were fine, people she’d never have to interact with again were fine, but this…

She was not nearly as good as Adrien… but Adrien was asleep, the fucker...

“Miss Marinette?” Said the kid.

She winced mentally and reached along the wall for the light. “Yes, sweetie, it’s me.”

The light flicked on and she saw Dick duck his head so his hair would hide his face.

“I brought cookies,” she said awkwardly as she walked over and took a seat on the edge of his bed. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just went with chocolate chip.”

He nodded slightly and mumbled his thanks as he took the Tupperware from her.

She bit her lip as he nibbled at her cookies, and then couldn’t help but smile at the way his posture relaxed a little.

“These are good.”

“My parents were bakers. I’d have been disowned if I couldn’t make chocolate chip cookies.”

He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

She floundered again in the new silence. There’s a difference between comfortable silences and awkward ones and this was definitely feeling more on the awkward side.

“I could teach you to bake, if you’d like. I doubt you had time to learn on the road.”

He hesitated. “I’d burn the place down.”

“That’s okay. If I could teach Adrien to cook then there’s hope for anyone.”

She had not, in fact, been able to teach Adrien to cook. He had set the entire kitchen on fire in what they now called The Brownie Incident… but Dick didn’t need to know that.

He smiled a little more and leaned back against the bed frame, still eating cookies. He had to be on his third one by now. She wasn’t going to call him out on it, though.

She glanced him over. He was no longer really hiding his face, and the tears had stopped sliding down his cheeks. He seemed content. She didn’t want to drag any feelings back, but...

“Would you like to talk about your nightmare?” She asked quietly.

“No.”

She winced internally. “Okay. Would you like me to leave?”

“No.”

Marinette let a little bit of surprise show on her face for just a second before slowly scooting over to lay next to him. She took a cookie he offered her and closed her eyes, relaxing a little.

“Are you going to sleep again?”

“No.”

“That’s okay. Do you want that baking lesson now?”

Dick giggled a little. “But we already have cookies…”

“Well, we don’t have any cakes, now, do we? Or brownies. And there’s other types of cookies!”

She peeked an eye open and couldn’t help but smile a little at the grin on the kid’s face at the mention of all the possibilities.

Then he gave her a suspicious look. “Are you trying to fatten me up like an evil witch?”

“Yes,” she said gravely. “I adopt little circus kids and fatten them up to eat. The entire house is actually made of candy.”

To her surprise and slight horror, he actually brought the corner of his blanket to his mouth. Then he spat it out. “Liar!”

“I…” She trailed off. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Moving on. “So, about that baking thing, how do brownies sound?”

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her pajama shirt and pulled her out into the halls with a bright smile. She had to do a half-jog to keep up with him.

“Shhhh, Mister Adrien is asleep!” He stage-whispered.

She scoffed. “Me?! You’re the one running!”

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

Marinette clicked her tongue once and allowed him to pull her into a full on jog as they raced through the house. Really, it was a testament to how tired he was that Adrien didn’t wake up.

She grinned and offered him a hand to get up on the counter, and then was reminded of the fact that he was a literal trapeze artist as he vaulted off of her hand and jumped over her head to get to it.

She whispered a quiet “holy shit” in English, then covered her mouth with her hand. She and Adrien had a sort of unspoken rule that you can only curse in English, it’s just a weird thing that bilingual households do where cursing in the second language just doesn’t count, but now this was an actual kid who spoke (as far as she was aware) only English. She can’t teach him curse words!

But he didn’t seem to hear it, instead smiling as he reached towards the sink and started cleaning his hands.

She washed her hands after him and then started pulling down things to make brownies. Should she do chocolate chips or just cocoa powder…?

She remembered The Brownie Incident.

She shivered.

Cocoa powder. Definitely cocoa powder.

She put some butter in the microwave.

“What does ‘holy shit’ mean?”

She wheezed. “Uh-- I-- um--.”

“I’m just messing with you. I already know.”

Oh thank fuck.

Well, maybe not. She was kind of glad that he was feeling comfortable enough to joke around with her, but… the idea of him secretly being a little shit, while not necessarily surprising, was a bit worrying.

“Okay… good? Just… don’t swear in front of Adrien. I don’t really care, but if he hears you he might think I taught you… so it’s just our little secret, okay?”

He smiled and made a zipping motion across his lips. She copied the motion.

Aw, she’d almost forgotten how cute kids were when they weren’t in dangerous or sad situations.

The microwave beeped and she hummed as she combined the butter, cocoa, and sugar. She stirred a bit and then handed Dick the eggs.

“Here, you can crack three of them into the bowl. Do you know how to do that?”

He huffed. “Yes!”

He, in fact, did not know how to do that.

She watched in open-mouthed horror as he attempted to just pull the egg open without cracking it.

“N… no, sweetie. You need to break it on the counter, first.”

He nodded and then slammed the egg on the counter.

Marinette wiped some egg off of the front of her shirt and then took a few breaths to steady herself. Now that the shock had worn off, she was very tempted to laugh and she was not going to do that to this poor, confused kid.

“I think I did it wrong.”

She snickered and then coughed to cover it up. “I… yes. I’ll show you how to do it.”

He gave a tiny smile as she took his hand and taught him how to crack an egg. He repeated the process with the other two eggs and she worked at cleaning up the mess he’d made.

… how the fuck was there egg on the wall? That was a good seven feet away from the island they were cooking on. Sure, he had to be strong to be an acrobat, but what the fuck?

She sighed and set the napkin done now that he was done and smiled as she added the vanilla, salt, and flour.

She handed him a spatula.

“Stir. Go wild, kid,” she said,

Big mistake.

Dick took her words to heart, and she watched as he stirred madly, batter flying everywhere.

She laughed, only to get splashed with the batter.

She managed to stop his hand and sent him a tiny glare.

“I'm starting to think you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Whaaaat? No.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, and then gasped when he lobbed a tiny bit of batter at her shirt.

“Oops,” he said, giving her a feral grin.

Marinette couldn’t help but smile back… then she reached past him and grabbed a handful of flour. She flicked her fingers and smiled when it got on his face.

He pouted and started rubbing his eyes. “Ow…”

Panic.

“Oh, sorry, did I get it in your eyes?” She leaned down. “Let me see.”

He nodded and slowly brought his hands away from his face and she checked his eyes with her fingers carefully --.

Only to feel an egg smash itself on top of her head.

She wiped some egg from her face and narrowed her eyes at him. “I’ll get you for that one, you traitor!”

He squealed and set the batter down, then did a backroll away from her.

Marinette and Dick grabbed their weapons…

An hour later, they were both breathing heavily.

“Truce?” She said, lowering her flour-covered arm.

He nodded slowly… and then threw an egg at her.

She dodged it easily and glared at him, her hand already reaching for her flour again —.

“Now truce! Now truce.”

She hesitated, then clicked her tongue as she let herself relax.

They looked around the mess that was the kitchen... at the batter still somehow untouched on the counter… the oven, which hadn’t even been preheated yet…

“Do you just want to eat the batter?”

“Let me get some spoons.”

A few hours later, Adrien walked in… only to stop short when he saw his wife and new kid there, covered in cooking ingredients. Dick had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder. She was fine with this, there was still some batter left.

“Um…?”

“Brownies are cursed,” she told him, then she took another spoonful.

“What?” Said a bewildered and still half-asleep Adrien.

She looked her husband dead in the eye as she pulled the spoon from her mouth with a tiny ‘pop’.

“Brownies are cursed.”

Adrien felt bad homeschooling the kid.

Really, it had brought him a lot of grief growing up. He hadn’t known anyone besides Chloe and Kagami until he was twelve years old.

But, as it turned out, Dick really needed to be homeschooled.

On top of just… having no formal education whatsoever and his general knowledge being a toss of the dice, it was also the middle of the school year and everyone knows you can’t just dump new kids into a class halfway through.

Adrien tipped his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.

Dick was taking a test to see what he had to teach him, but he wasn’t concerned about the kid cheating. What was he going to do? Sneak away, grab a textbook, and start flipping through it without him noticing?

He sighed.

The kid was… weird.

He was always smiling, always in motion, always affectionate. It was something they’d figured out quickly, but it had taken longer to notice that he was only like that when he was talking about things he actually wanted to. If they asked how he was doing, because it had only really been a week since it had happened, he would clam up and start semi-subtly shifting the conversation away.

He was avoiding his problems. And Marinette and Adrien really didn’t know what to do. He had stolen their unhealthy coping mechanism and now they were forced to stand back and watch as the kid destroyed himself the same way they did. And they knew it was a terrible coping mechanism, even Dick might have known it, but what were they supposed to do? They had been around much longer and they hadn’t found a better mechanism, what could they do for Dick?

He peeked an eye open and looked at the kid, who was chewing on the end of his pen as he thought through the question he was on.

… damn, he was actually going to have to learn how to cope, huh?

So, that afternoon, he passed Dick off to Marinette like a baton in a relay race and took a bus to the bookstore.

The psychology section was huge and filled to the brim with case studies. It was honestly daunting to look at. Instead, he made his way to the clerk.

The woman looked him up and down once. “Rough week?”

“You have no idea,” he muttered. “Can I have some recommendations for books on adoption, parenting, and coping with trauma? And also a highlighter, that would probably help.”

He skimmed through the parenting and adoption books. He and Marinette had already done this a few years back when they had first been considering kids, he was mostly just getting a refresher.

And then he turned to the five books on coping mechanisms he’d bought.

He took a deep breath and started looking methodically reading his way through it, highlighter in hand.

The next day, he found Dick, who was drumming his fingers on the table as he glared at the textbook in front of him.

Adrien had some suspicions about the kid in front of him, though he wasn’t absolutely sure yet. Still, he figured he should test his theory.

Besides, it would also help keep the kid safe and physical activity was one of the things a book on coping mechanisms had suggested.

Multi-tasking!

Or maybe it was just efficiency…

Whatever!

He smiled. “Hey, kid, want to try something different for today’s lesson?”

Dick looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

“Well… how do you feel about learning self-defense?”

“Where are you going?” Asked Dick with a tiny frown as she started bustling around the living room in search of her shoes.

“Uh… work!” She said.

They’d both agreed that telling Dick that she was going to go do the exact job his parents had just died in was a terrible idea, so they’d thought up a cover story… too bad she couldn’t think of it at the moment. She finally saw her shoes tucked under the couch and dove down to grab them, then sent her kid a smile.

“Have a good day, sweetie, I’ll see you later,” she said, walking over and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

She ducked out the door and started running all over again. Her eyes found their way to her watch. It was a tryout and she was going to be late…

But she wasn’t.

Barely.

She stumbled inside with one minute to spare, panting, and it took everything in her not to slump over the nearest bench and die.

“Hi,” she wheezed at Haly, who raised his eyebrows slightly at her.

“You’re really cutting it close, here. Have anything to say for yourself?”

She rested a hand over her heart as if that would somehow bring it back to normal. “I need a fucking car.”

Haly paused, then nodded. “That explains that. I’ll let you off with a warning that you should try not to be late again.”

“Oka --.” She stopped, and then looked at him. “I got the job?”

He shrugged and pointed around at the empty tent. “You’re the only one here.”

Wow. She’d suspected that people would be less than eager to take the job offer, but to be the only person…

Well, she figured that she should just be thankful. That made things much easier.

She smiled faintly. “Cool. Should I still show you my skills and everything?”

He motioned to the trapeze. There was a net under it. The man had learned his lesson, at least. “Please.”

It turns out that being Ladybug is really helpful when you want to be a trapeze artist.

Actually, she found that being a trapeze artist was actually easier in some ways. Instead of having to hold tight to one thin string when swinging around, she was able to get a proper grip on a bar.

It was a lot of fun. Recently, she’d been using her cane more. Having a yoyo was impractical as a weapon when people were firing guns, so she’d more or less stopped using it. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel the wind in her hair. It was calming...

Also, she got to show off, which was always fun.

She stopped after a few minor tricks and gave a bow to Haly, who seemed to just be glad that she actually had an idea of what she was doing.

“You’ll need about a month of training before you do any shows. Do you have any other expertise?”

She shook her head. It was a lie, she would probably be good with aerial silks or contortionism, but she felt some weird need to do the trapeze…

Just then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and read the news headline.

She groaned and turned to Haly. “Can I have a minute? I need to take this.”

The man nodded.

She scowled as she stepped out and dialled a number.

“NYGMA.”

“Ladybug!” Riddler said cheerfully. She could hear a woman sobbing in the background. “What’s up? Did you see the news?”

“Yes, I saw. I’m at a job interview!”

The smile in the man’s voice disappeared as he spoke next: “Oh, I’m sorry. I can reschedule the death trap.”

“YOU CAN, CAN YOU?”

“Yep! How does tomorrow sound?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to relax. “I can do tomorrow. Thank you. And let go of the poor lady, will you?”

“Fiiiiine.”

She hung up on him and then stepped back inside, giving Haly her brightest smile.

“I can start working in two days, if that sounds good to you.”

Adrien hesitated.

Really, he should be getting Marinette to train Dick on self-defense. They had similar movement styles…

But his hunch had been right. This kid seemed to learn a lot better when he was multitasking and, as much as he loved his wife, he didn’t think her English was good enough to teach someone else.

And, besides, he wanted to spend time with his kid, dang it!

He stopped Dick before he could throw another punch at the dummy to fix his form. “I know putting power into it is hard when you’re so little, but you need to rotate your hips so you can get at least some kind of force behind it.”

The kid pouted. “But this is so boooooooring. It’s just the same thing over and over again! I want to do cool stuff!”

“Not yet. You have to understand the basics before you start messing with it.”

Dick gave another pout, this time adding puppy-dog eyes, but, unfortunately for him, Adrien had never been fond of dogs. He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

The kid groaned and started punching the pads again.

“I before E, except after C, or when sounding like A, as in neighbor and…”

It didn’t take long for Marinette to notice The Guy.

She had a pretty good vantage point from the ladder to her trapeze. She would stop at the top, her hands up in a salute, and pause for ‘dramatic effect’.

Her eyes flicked over the crowd and locked on the face of The Guy.

He was at every show, his face pulled into a bored frown as he rested his head on his hand. He’d sit there the whole time, watching the same performance over and over again, and then leave the moment the show was over.

She pursed her lips for half a second before bringing her face back to its smile.

She’d brought a camera this time. This time she’d be able to get his face so she and Adrien could get information on him.

But, for now, she concentrated on making the first jump to the trapeze…

She sat down after her act, still breathing heavily. She was in shape… but, kwami, that kind of stuff is hard! Still, she couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t been challenged in a while. It was kind of fun.

She wondered, vaguely, if this was what she’d be doing if she hadn’t gone back into crime fighting.

Marinette pushed that thought from her head as she downed her water. It wasn’t the time. She only had a few more minutes before she was on again for the outro. She needed the picture now.

She grabbed her camera from her locker and snuck her way to the stands, and pointed her camera --.

The Guy had spotted her. He looked directly at her camera, his face set in an even deeper frown than usual.

She quickly snapped the picture, then darted back behind the curtain. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Shit! Shitshitshit --!

Okay. Breathe.

He wasn’t going to just kill her. If the way they’d offed the Graysons was any indication, they didn’t want to draw too much attention to the circus. It was unfortunate what had happened, but not suspicious. However, the trapeze was new and there was a net. An accident like that couldn’t happen again.

No, they’d probably wait until after the show. That would be fine. She could deal with that. At least then she could stall until she had energy by waiting with someone.

She felt a hand tap her shoulder and looked over at the contortionist. “Time?”

“Time,” he said simply.

She hid the camera and ran out with him, smiling like she wasn’t about to face off with a mobster.

Two hours later, she stepped into her train car and crossed her arms over her chest. “Right, I know you’re in here,” she said quietly.

Or, at least, she hoped so. Because otherwise she would be looking a little silly --.

Wait, a knife pressed to her neck. Maybe she wished she was wrong.

She clicked her tongue and leaned into her attacker, closing her eyes. “You Americans still say ‘yo’, right?”

The Guy tensed a little under her, and then whispered a confused, “No…?”

She huffed. “Damn. Why do you change your greetings so often? Whatever. Kaalki, a little help would be nice.”

“Who --?” Began The Guy, but he was quickly cut off.

Because a portal opened under them and dumped them into a back alley in Gotham.

Marinette grinned and grabbed his arm, using his confusion to lean forward and flip him over her shoulder. He cursed as his back hit the ground and the blade clattered to the floor.

She grabbed it nonchalantly and her eyes flicked over the hilt.

A name was engraved there.

Zucco.

“You mob people make this too easy. Now, tell me everything you know.”

He glared up at her. “They’ll kill me!”

“And what gave you the impression that I wouldn’t?” She twirled the knife in her fingers. “Quickly, please, I have a kid to get back to.”

A half hour later, he had spilled everything he knew.

And his guts…

She rolled off of him and glanced at the bloodied dagger in her hand. Her nose scrunched up as she dropped it beside him. There. Now it looked like a mob hit.

She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, only to groan at the sight of the blood staining her front.

She gave the corpse a kick as she cursed him out:

“Asshole. I liked these clothes!”

He smiled as he pulled his wife into his side.

Dick had finally gone to bed, so it was just them two. For once.

Marinette had a show in an hour that she needed to portal back for, and Adrien needed to go out as Chat Noir soon, but they didn’t want to get up just yet.

She yawned and curled closer to him. “I guess…” She yawned again. “I guess I should tell you what I found out. Which is basically nothing. Apparently, hardly anyone has ever seen Zucco in person, just the higher ups. He just sends people to do his bidding.”

He groaned and buried his face in her hair. “Great. Did you at least give the sample to Nygma when you saw him yesterday?”

“Obviously.” Her watch beeped and she mumbled a curse. “Alright, I have to go.”

“Nooooooo.”

“Yeeees,” she said, gently pushing his chest until he let go. She stretched out a bit and then walked to the bedroom door.

It swung open before she even touched the knob.

Dick was standing in the doorway, hugging a Chat Noir doll to his chest. “I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you guys?”

Marinette glanced at her watch and then at the kid and then at her watch again.

“Or are you guys both going out again?”

Adrien winced. “You noticed that?”

“It’s, like, every night,” he said irritably. He sighed and wiped his eyes a little bit. “Fine. I’ll just go lay down again.”

She bit her lip and then leaned down to look him in the eyes. “I’ll be back in four hours, okay, sweetie? Can you handle that?”

Dick looked at the ground. “Sure.”

Marinette grimaced. “I’m sorry.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

They could hear the coatrack hit the ground in her hurry to grab her jacket and get out the door.

Adrien sighed and looked at Dick, who was still standing in the doorway.

He really should be going on patrol. The people of Gotham had begun to notice that Chat Noir and Ladybug had been showing up less frequently. Crime rates were rising…

He laid back in bed and opened his arms. “I won’t leave. Come here.”

Dick gave a tiny smile, though it seemed a little forced. Still, he got into bed and curled up in Adrien’s arms.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He tried.

“No.”

He sighed. “You’re going to have to talk about it, eventually. Avoiding it is just going to make it harder to deal with later.”

“Nope.”

He gave a tiny laugh. Dang. This kid really was just them but younger. Now all he needed was a miraculous and he’d be a perfect mini version of them…

“Where do you guys even go?” Asked Dick, his voice muffled in Adrien’s chest.

“Work,” he said after a few minutes’ deliberation.

“I thought you didn’t really have jobs.”

He laughed quietly. “Marinette has a million jobs, and I have my one. Though we don’t really get paid for what we do most of the time.”

“Why do you do it, then?”

Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly, then gave a tiny shrug. “Why did you do the trapeze?”

He’d meant for it to be a rhetorical question, meant for it to be something that would make Dick change the subject, so it was a complete surprise when the kid whispered: “It was all that I knew.”

Internally, he was screaming. It was happening! Finally! He had opened up a little bit!

Externally, he nodded and rubbed circles into the kid’s back. “Hopefully, we can make it so it’s not all you know. Help you branch out a little bit while you’re here.”

He felt tiny hands clutch the back of his shirt. “Can’t do that when you’re always gone.”

“I know,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They stayed in silence for a long time. Adrien was pretty sure that Dick had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t going to move. The kid had noticed that they were gone often, but the two of them had always made sure to wait until he had fallen asleep to leave. He had to be waking up at least once a night, so…

He held the kid close to his chest.

A few hours later, the door creaked open.

Adrien opened an eye blearily and saw Marinette get into bed. He lifted an arm for Marinette to join the cuddle and smiled faintly when she actually did.

He let himself drift off.

A few days later, Marinette and Adrien came back from patrols to find Dick talking to the kwamis. All of them gave sounds of surprise when they saw the two vigilantes in the door and disappeared except for Trixx, who turned and fixed their purple eyes on them.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly for a second, considering what to say, and then decided on: “What the fuck, guys?”

Adrien removed his arm from around her waist so he could bury his face in his hands.

Trixx smiled. “It’s not what it looks like. He found us.”

“He…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So… you’re telling me that this kid pushed our bed aside, pulled up the exact right floorboard, and pulled out the miracle box...”

“... yes.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but I’m not buying it.”

Dick pouted and hugged the tiny fox to his chest. “Are you mad at her?”

Marinette hesitated.

Before Dick had known about the kwamis, they had a chance of giving him back. They would have been able to find better parents for him, been able to give him a genuinely good life. But now… they couldn’t risk giving him up. The reason they’d taken him in in the first place was that he was relatively loose-lipped. Now that he knew something so important, there was no way in hell that they could risk him ever telling anyone.

Of course, she doubted they would have been able to give up Dick anyways. She’d grown annoyingly attached to the kid, he was sweet and generally made her life a little more fun, but now there wasn’t an option at all.

Still, this part of their lives… beyond needing to keep things a secret, it was extremely dangerous to involve a kid in this kind of thing.

Adrien answered first: “No, we’re not mad. Just… this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“And what was the plan? Never telling me that we have a bunch of… what did they call themselves? Kwamis? Whatever, they’re gods. There are just gods living in our house!”

Marinette shrugged. “We weren’t telling you because we didn’t want you to get dragged into this part of our lives, sweetie.”

Dick huffed. “And are there any other secrets that I should know about?”

“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir,” supplied Trixx.

“TRIXX?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE CHAT NOIR AND LADYBUG?!”

The fox kwami laughed and disappeared.

Marinette scowled. “I know you’re still here, Trixx, where are you? I will hunt you.”

“Please, Mari, you don’t need to do that. Just get the fox miraculous and summon her here, it’s much easier.”

“Smart.”

“WHY HAVE YOU STILL NOT DENIED IT?!”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other awkwardly.

Well… the secret was out.

She opened her purse and he opened his jacket, and their kwamis slowly poked their heads out to look at Dick.

Poor kid was not prepared.

He covered his eyes with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “So… I… wow…”

Well, she supposed there could be worse reactions.

“Wait, so are you investigating what happened with my parents?”

Like that. That was a worse reaction. Fuck.

Marinette carefully took a seat on the floor by her kid. Adrien sat down as well.

“We’re working on it,” she said carefully. “I’m following a lead and I got help from a… an associate of ours.”

Adrien nodded. “It will take a while. It’s just the two of us -- and Nygma, I guess -- so it’s not going to be done quickly.”

Dick removed his hands from his eyes and looked at them both. “I want to help.”

“No,” said both adults instantly.

“But --.”

“Nope,” said Marinette.

“I --.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Not allowed.”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not? They’re my parents.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “It has nothing to do with that. You’re a kid, we can’t just let you fight crime.”

“Oh? And when did you start fighting crime?”

“Eighteen,” said Marinette, which technically wasn’t a lie…

Which means it was unfortunate that Adrien gave a more accurate answer: “I was twelve, she was thirteen.”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Damn it, Adrien.”

“So, when I’m twelve, can I join you guys?”

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite, but she also didn’t want to let an actual kid fight crime. She had fought crime as a kid, it had messed her up. She wasn’t eager to pass that on to someone else…

But…

“Fine. How about this: if we don’t solve it by the time you’re twelve you can join us for that case specifically.”

Dick pouted a little, but seemed to understand. “Okay.”

She and Adrien met eyes. They had three years to solve this case before Dick would get involved, and they couldn’t let that happen.

But it was three years.

How hard could it be?

He and Marinette sat on the floor in front of the miracle box, sorting the miraculi into two different piles: ‘Will Protect’ and ‘Can’t Protect’.

Once that was done, they started sifting through the ‘Will Protect’ pile.

“Turtle?” Marinette said.

Adrien shook his head. “Doesn’t fit his fighting style. Bee?”

She shuddered. “Don’t need another Chloe. Snake?”

They tipped their heads from side to side as they considered it, but then Trixx piped up: “I’m right here, y’know.”

The two vigilantes jumped out of their skin. Then they glared at the kwami.

“Must you always sneak up on us?”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m the best fit for the kid and you know it.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Adrien raised his eyebrows.

It was true. From the moment they’d started considering giving Dick a miraculous (because, even if they doubted he was ever going to get to that point, they figured they should at least make sure he was safe), they’d both been eyeing the fox miraculous…

Thing was…

“You’re just going to tell him more of our secrets,” he complained, sighing.

Trixx crossed their paws over their chest. “Do you really have any other secrets you care about?”

They considered this for a minute, before Marinette clicked her tongue.

“Fine. Fine! Adrien, you’ll need to train him on his powers, your secondary powers are closer than mine. I’ll take up sparring to teach him a fight style that better matches his circus training.”

Adrien pouted and fell back until his head hit her lap. “You don’t think I was teaching him well enough? Because our fight styles and training were completely different? I’m wounded, M’lady. I’ll never recover.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I’ve been cured.”

She clicked her tongue.

Adrien smiled…

And then her watch beeped. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. “Nooooo, don’t gooooooooooo.”

“I can’t just not go, Chaton.”

“Why nooooot? It would be so easy.”

She slowly peeled his arms off of her, smiling fondly. “Relax. I’ll be back later. Hang out with… with Di --... Nope. With the kid. Maybe train him a little in his powers or whatever.”

He laid on the floor with a pout as he watched her leave, and then looked down at the necklace in his hands.

Well, he supposed he might as well. What else could he do? Protect the city? Nah.

He walked to his kid’s room and rolled his eyes when he saw the kid standing with his ear pressed to the wall.

“Hello?”

Dick’s face reddened and he turned to Adrien with a bright smile. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Wow, he really was a good fit for Trixx.

He sighed and offered the necklace. “You’re not in trouble. C’mon, we’re going to teach you to use these powers.”

Trixx floated over to rest on Dick’s shoulder and Adrien waved him along to the training room.

Adrien held up a hand before walking to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

He smiled as the kid transformed.

Adrien stretched lazily. “Right, on your back right now is a flute. It… works like a flute. You can play music with it if you want, and also hit people with it if you want. It also summons your power.”

Dick nodded and pulled it off his back. “What can I do?”

“You play a note and envision an illusion of some sort. The limit is just your imagination.”

“Like a Green Lantern?”

“I… kind of. You just have illusions, if you touch them they disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess. Alright, so you’re probably going to have side-effects.”

He watched the kid’s eyes widen and rushed to explain: “It usually isn’t bad. Just weird. It’s why I like to sit on counters and why Mari’s always so cold. It also changes looks a little. Like… Mari has a lot more white in her eyes and my hair has those two little tufts that I have to gel down.”

Dick’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. So… powers.”

“Yep.”

He pulled out his flute.

Adrien smiled. “Right, let’s start simple. The main thing you need is a clear vision. I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to make something appear in the room. If you’re doing it right then it should appear real, if not then we’ll figure out what’s going wrong.”

He closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds after he heard the shrill note of the flute. Then he opened his eyes.

And came face to face with a giant, bright pink inflatable elephant.

“I…”

Dick grinned. “Think we should address the elephant in the room?”

He blinked once, then broke into a matching grin. “You’re what’s been missing from my life. Oh my kwami. That was beautiful.”

Then he actually went to inspect the elephant. It was pretty good. The lighting was a little off but it wasn’t plainly obvious it was fake, if he wasn’t paying attention he doubted he would’ve noticed. That made sense. Powers were usually pretty instinctual.

He nodded slowly. “Now try something that makes sound.”

Dick brought the flute to his lips and played another note.

He had expected the elephant to disappear and get replaced by something. Instead, it let out a high whine as the air in it slipped out of a new gash on its side.

Adrien smiled.

“Nice.” He sighed and let his smile lessen. Now for the reason they had thought the fox miraculous could be used for protection: “Okay. Make yourself disappear.”

He got a frown for that one. “Sorry?”

“It’s… you’re still a kid. You need to know how to cloak yourself so you don’t get hurt. We can’t really stop you from coming with us in an ethical way, but we need to at least make sure you’ll be okay if you come along.”

Dick frowned. “I thought you were going to let me help.”

“In three years. If we haven’t already solved this case yet. And if we think that you’re going to be able to handle it.”

“But --.”

“We were heroes at a young age. True. We weren’t ready for it, though, and we don’t want to screw up a kid in the same way we were screwed up. That’s the whole thing about having kids, we want you to have a better life than we did.”

The kid gave an annoyed expression before bringing his flute to his lips. With a shrill note, the annoyed face disappeared.

Adrien tipped his head from side to side as he considered this. He was pretty sure that he could sense something off, but he wasn’t sure if that was just his mind messing with him because he knew that Dick was there…

He walked towards where he’d last seen him to make sure and then stopped short when he realized what was off. His feet weren’t making any sound.

There wasn’t any sound at all, actually.

“You’ve done too much. You got rid of all sound, not just your own.”

Dick appeared, a grin on his face.

“This is boring. Can we make it into a game? Like hide-n-seek?”

Adrien hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

She hummed absently as she and Dick stretched to warm up.

She was a little jealous, if she was honest, he was way more flexible than she was even though he was out of practice and she wasn’t. She’d been stretching before this kid was even born. How dare he still be more flexible than her.

Still, she rolled to her feet and offered him a hand up.

Dick’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he did a backhandspring from the floor.

How the fuck?

But she wasn’t going to act like this was an amazing thing. She was already bitter enough about his flexibility, admitting that he was also better at gymnastics would be even worse.

Instead, she grinned. “Hey, kid, what should we call you?”

He thought for a minute, taking his flute out and twirling it in his hand like a baton. “Robin?”

“I…” She held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and then pulled out her phone. After a quick google search to make sure they were talking about the same animal, she gave her kid a confused look. “You’re a fox.”

“Yes.”

“Robins are birds.”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She really didn’t know why she asked a kid who called himself ‘Dick’ to name himself. Really, she should have expected this.

Marinette shrugged to herself. “Fine. I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘sweetie’.”

“Okay!” He stopped twirling his flute and pointed it at Marinette. “So, you’re going to teach me to use my circus training for fighting?”

She sighed and pulled out her cane, leaning against it. “Right. I’ll need to check to see how well you know the basics, first, though.”

Dick groaned. “I’m ready. I feel like I’ve been ready for ages!”

“I know, I know, but I need to make sure, okay?”

He gave her an annoyed look.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. “Okay. Fine.” She dropped her cane. “Spar with me.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’ll have first swing and I won't get a weapon.”

True to her word, she let him have the first swing. She dodged and grabbed his arm, then pressed her foot to the middle of his back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pulled the flute from his hand and sent him a tired glare.

“You got lucky,” said Dick, his voice muffled against the floor.

She pulled him back to his feet. “No, you’re a child and I’ve been fighting for years. Like pretty much everyone else you’re going to fight. Which means that we can’t rush your training, okay? You have years before we let you into the field, if we do, so…”

He brushed himself off with a bitter expression.

“Fine. We drill basics.”

Riddler grinned, spinning around in his chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noi --.” He stopped short, his eyes widening as they spotted something behind them. “What the heck? You guys brought a kid to this?”

He glanced behind himself and cringed lightly. He reached out and gently pulled Dick behind himself a little. Nygma had never been one for random attacks, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to make sure that this kid was safe.

And why had they brought him?

Marinette clicked her tongue once in annoyance. “Hey, sweetie, show the nice man your powers for a second.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips. With one high note he was gone.

Yep. They were really regretting giving him that miraculous right about then. They hadn’t even realized that he was coming along until Adrien had missed a jump and realized that his bones hadn’t audibly cracked like they usually did when he messed up like that.

He reappeared with a fox-like grin playing across his thin lips.

(Or maybe they just thought it was fox-like because he was currently dressed as a fox. Who knows.)

Riddler considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I understand now.”

Adrien sighed. “Yep.”

Marinette pulled out her yoyo and summoned a coloring book and some crayons. Dick beamed and plopped down on the floor to color.

The parents smiled fondly at their kid and then turned to Riddler.

“Now, you have news?” Adrien said.

“Good news and bad news.”

The adults looked at each other and gave tiny shrugs.

“Good news first,” said Marinette.

“Good news is that there’s only one person who supplies that specific acid.”

Adrien’s eyebrows knit together. That sounded good, but…

“Bad news is that she’s pretty popular. Over two-hundred customers popular.”

Ah. There it was.

Marinette covered Dick’s ears so she could curse.

Adrien, however, shrugged. “Do you have a list of her customers?”

Riddler nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll forward it to you guys.”

“Thanks for the help, Nygma. See you in a few months.” With that, Marinette picked up Dick and held him to her hip.

“I’ll get you with the next one!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

Adrien gave an apologetic smile and a friendly wave as he hurried out after his wife.

Marinette hummed absently as she pulled her jacket on, then froze up when she heard a gun click behind her head.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

She pulled a smile to her face and held her hands up in a kind of surrender, then turned around.

Wow. This man looked exactly like how gangsters looked in movies. She probably would have laughed if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her.

And, even with the gun pointed at her, she had to suppress a smile.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you, sir? You’re the one attacking the random trapeze artist.”

“You’ve killed every single man I’ve sent in here to make sure everything was going to plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve sent a woman. We apparently get the job done better.”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Marinette Agreste, but I’m sure you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that I’ve killed ‘every single man you’ve sent here’.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t what I was asking and you know it.”

“Do I? Maybe you should be clearer,” she said. “Or, you could just tell me your name and I promise I would be much more compliant.”

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, his face tinged red with annoyance. She tried to push down the twinge of satisfaction. Even if this wasn’t Zucco, he at least had to be pretty high up and was likely the person who had ordered the goons to kill Dick’s parents. This bitch deserved all the hell she gave him, in her not-so-humble opinion.

“Giovanni,” he said carefully.

She smiled. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who am I...? I don’t know. I sometimes fight people. What else is there to say?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Why are you killing all my men?”

“I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t notice me noticing them every time. It’s getting very annoying. Send less observant people.”

Her eyes caught Kaalki’s. The kwami was hiding in a duffel bag that had been left open and she gave a tiny shrug to say go.

The man gave a scream as a portal sliced his hand off.

Marinette hummed absently and leaned down to pick up the gun. She pried the hand off of the gun and tossed it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK --.”

“I know, I know, it hurts, but could you be quieter?” She rubbed the side of her head. “Right, I have a few questions about Zucco.”

“He’d kill m --.”

“Yes. Yes, he would. But maybe you should concern yourself less with him, who has already made up his mind about killing you, and more about me, who’s still mulling it over.”

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room, humming as she tossed the gun back over her shoulder lazily.

“Haly?” She yelled, and smiled when his head popped out from his train care.

He looked stunned for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting. It’s been fun, though!”

She bit her lip as she strode out into the night.

Well, if she wasn’t already on Zucco’s radar she definitely would be now.

Greeeeaaaat.

It’s hard to look into people when you’re on the run from the mob.

They’d done everything they could think of. Marinette had withdrawn everything from their accounts, Adrien had altered all their appearances, Dick had... come along.

And it turns out tracking down 237 people is hard or something. Who knew.

You have to:

Figure out whether or not the person you’re after has pseuds. In order to do this you have to track their income patterns. This requires pretty high tech stuff, which they were generally trying to avoid because of the whole ‘mob out to get them’ thing.

Then, if they do have pseuds, you have to find all their assets. Then you have to go and check every single safehouse to see if it is, in fact, Zucco or someone working for him. It’s not fun. Most people in the mob are trained to not tell secrets no matter what, and getting to the point where you can get that information is… time consuming.

And they didn’t have time.

They glared at the remaining names. Dick was turning twelve tomorrow. They hadn’t even realized it because time was getting fuzzy again, but then they had come home to him hanging upside down from one of the lights on the ceiling and chanting about how close his birthday was.

After checking to make sure their kid hadn’t somehow gotten high or drunk, because what the heck, they had flown into a panic about how much work they still had to do.

“What’re the ethics of killing all 92 people tonight?” She asked, leaning back against her husband as he clicked through files.

“Even if we could, I’d say it’s probably frowned upon.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them again to glare at the papers in front of her. “How much you wanna bet that the very first one we choose after the kid joins us is going to be the right one?”

“Knowing our luck? That’s definitely going to happen.”

She gave a bitter laugh before pushing herself back up. “I’m going to break into a bakery to make a cake.”

“Cupcakes. You know he’s going to want to spend the day out in the field looking for answers, we might as well have food we can travel with.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded.

He fell back on the bed and glared at the list. He should have said they started at eighteen...

Well, at least it hadn’t been the first person that they’d looked into with Dick.

It had been the second.

After… ‘interogating’ the guy they’d found, they’d been given the name of this cruise ship and where it often docked. Then Dick had given them all cover so they could sneak on undetected.

And now night had hit. The three of them sat, perched on a railing as they observed the goons below them.

She watched Adrien send a wave before disappearing to take out the captain and destroy anything that could be used to contact land.

She turned to the kid next to her and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Ready, sweetie?”

Dick gave a slightly nervous smile before pulling out his flute.

“You’re only allowed to get involved if I’m dying, remember?”

He nodded, though she got the feeling that the kid wasn’t listening. Or, rather, he was listening and just opting not to take the words to heart.

She clicked her tongue once. Then she began walking along the outer edges of the ship, Dick trailing along behind her. She twirled her yoyo absently. They needed to get to the private quarters, as she was pretty sure that Zucco wouldn’t be anywhere else (he sent people out to do all his work, there was no way he was doing any work on his ship).

Then she heard laughter.

She looked up and scowled at the three henchmen who were leaning over the side of the railing above them.

“Oh my god, Ladybug has a kid!”

Her yoyo came to a stop. “Hilarious, I know.”

“Kinda! I mean the most deadly vigilantes in the world have a little kid trailing around like a lost puppy! That’s so good!”

She pressed her lips together tightly. “Mhmm. Please, tell me more...”

“Gonna say ‘or else’? Or else what? You’re going to change our diapers?”

She nodded slowly, then turned to Dick. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She opted to ignore the way the three roared with laughter above her at the action, instead concentrating on him.

“Sweetie, I want you to cover your eyes for a second, please. I’ll tell you when you can look again, okay?”

He nodded and brought his hands to his eyes.

She wheeled on the criminals, whose laughter was quickly dying.

“Oops,” said one of them, his voice so quiet she’d barely heard it.

But she did. And she fought off some laughter of her own. “‘Oops’ is right.”

Three minutes later, she smiled and pulled Dick’s hands away from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie, how’re you feeling?”

He glanced behind her and she winced, expecting him to become horrified, but then he suddenly tossed his flute.

There was a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the guy’s head and he fell over the side.

Marinette looked at Dick and gave him a tiny smile. He beamed in return.

“Thanks for the save.”

“No problem.”

She tossed her yoyo and recovered his flute for him, then took his hand. She led her kid through the ship.

When he caught up with them, Adrien smiled and rested a hand over the top of the kid’s head. “I found out where the private quarters are.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

The three of them went along in silence. Whenever they passed someone they’d casually knock them over the side. They might live that way.

But probably not.

Still, it was relatively easy.

They walked along the private quarters, poking their head in doors and then closing them.

Eventually, they came to the most grandiose-looking cabin. Really, they should have checked it first, but whatever. Marinette, Adrien, and Dick all gave each other wary looks before Adrien kicked the door open.

The poor guy had been asleep. Sucks.

Zucco looked up slowly and then gasped, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gun.

Ah. Now that sucks for them.

Dick gave a high-pitched whine.

Marinette and Adrien instantly reached for Dick to push him behind them, only to stop short when their hands passed through clean air. They turned to look, confused expressions on their faces, only to find that the kid was gone.

Uh…

They frowned slightly and looked around. Their faces drained of color when they found their way back to where Zucco was.

Or, rather, had been. Because he was missing, too.

Marinette cursed beside him and Adrien felt like punching a wall. Dick hadn’t been making that noise because he was scared, he’d been making that noise because he’d been creating an illusion.

They had to stop Dick before he did something he would regret.

Their eyes searched the room desperately, their ears strained. There had to be something off. Dick and Zucco hadn’t left, Marinette and Adrien were covering too much of the door for both of them to squeeze past without the illusion breaking, so they were still in the cabin.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly and pulled the door shut, then lopped off the doorknob with her yoyo.

Adrien nodded and they began to shuffle through the room.

It was needlessly huge, but there was a lot of stuff in it. A bed, a mostly untouched kitchen area, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, a possibly real treasure chest, a vanity…

He knocked his staff against things absently. It should reveal illusions…

Where was this kid?

He kicked some jewelry on the floor in irritation and then blinked when they hit the wall nearby without a sound.

Wait a minute…

He swung his staff in a large circle around him and couldn’t help but wince when he hit something that he couldn’t see. The illusion shattered and Dick groaned in pain as he stumbled off of Zucco, holding his side where Adrien had hit him.

But, for once, Adrien wasn’t looking at the kid. His eyes found their way to the floor, where Zucco had curled up. He was beaten and bloody, bruises starting to form on his pale skin.

“Robin…” He whispered, looking at Dick.

Dick was crying, the blunt end of his flute bloodied.

Adrien walked over and carefully pulled the flute from his hands and then drew him into his chest. “You can’t kill him.”

“But --!”

“No buts.” Marinette gave Zucco a kick to the head to make sure he was down before joining the hug.

“But you kill people!”

“And we’re also adults. When you’re an adult you can kill people, too.”

“M’lady…”

She winced a little. “Yeah, I hear it. But… anyways, sweetie, we can’t let a kid kill anyone. Killing… it messes with you. We don’t want that life for you.”

Adrien sighed. “You’re a kid. You can’t kill someone, it’s not good for your psyche. Leave that kind of thing to us.”

Dick took a shaky breath, and then nodded.

They’d been right to not want to include him in this. Vigilantism wasn’t healthy for kids.

And they especially shouldn’t have brought Dick along for this part, they should have expected that something like this would happen. He was too close to the case.

He swallowed thickly and hugged him closer.

Marinette pulled away carefully. She hummed, grabbing Zucco by the back of his nightshirt and dragging him away.

He gently rubbed circle’s into the kid’s back. “You want some ice cream? I think there’s still some at home…”

Dick giggled a little. “That ice cream is so expired.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s been, like, three years.”

Adrien sighed. “Okay, maybe, but hush.”

He pulled away slightly from the kid and wiped some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Want to go home anyways?”

Dick smiled faintly and nodded.

She dropped back on the bed and smiled as she curled in the blankets. The night had been… interesting… but at least she was home now.

She felt tiny hands wrap around her and her smile widened as she felt a face bury itself in her stomach.

But then her smile lessened. She slowly combed her fingers through the kid’s hair.

“I need your miraculous back, sweetie.”

“No. I want to keep doing it.”

She gave Adrien a pleading look and he sighed, slipping into bed and wrapping his arms around them. “She’s right. We don’t want —.”

“And what about what I want?”

It definitely wasn’t an angle they’d considered. They’d been very concerned about the kid ending up like them (they had given up on trying to fix themselves a long time ago, but they were still self aware of the fact that they didn’t cope healthily). But… what if they were too late? The kid had already been exhibiting signs of their bad coping mechanisms, had been since the start, had they accidentally encouraged it just by being around him?

She didn’t know.

What she did know, though, was that they’d messed up by letting him come along. He’d had a taste of the adrenaline, and there was no going back.

She flinched. “I… are you sure?”

Dick nodded against her stomach. “I want to help people.”

She bit her lip. Dick was one of those kids that would sneak out and do it anyways, the least they could do was make sure he was safe.

Adrien seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed again and squeezed them both tighter.

“As long as you make sure to always be with one of us while you’re doing vigilante work…” he said reluctantly.

“I can do that.”

Oh, thank kwami.

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I guess it would be kind of cool to have a whole family of vigilantes...”

~~~

As it turns out, I am unable to write pure fluff. It eludes me.

On the other hand, I managed a Christmas update!! Go me!!

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo

#another one?!#adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin #maribat

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sterekficrec · 3 years

Text

Last Chance Asks!

Hey guys, these are asks that have been on our lost fic list for a very long time, I'm going to put them here so we can still save them and that we'll create more room for new lost fics that have yet to be found. If you find any of these let me know by using the number and mention it's from the last chance list, thank you in advance :)

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Hey, I've been looking for this fic for months and can't seem to find it. It's about stiles leaving BH to get away from the supernatural but in the city he goes to he meets an old female alpha who knew Talia. He becomes frds w her and lends her a book which she gives to Derek who spills coffee on it and when he goes to the bookstore he meets stiles there. I think the pack moved too and is living in a house together for school. I looked everywhere and couldn't find it, help please and thanks

I've just started reading this fic, it's pretty short when my laptop died so I can't find it now. Um, it was about like after apocalypse with zombies and stiles is bitten so he has to kill himself. I'm sorry if it's vague but I'm really itching to finish it. A lot of angst if it helps?? thank you

looking for a fic with KindaNerd!derek who Stiles helps one day after school and they start hanging out and as time passes Derek grows to be handsome. Then when they graduate Derek tells the school about how Stiles saved his life that day he called him, and tears from Laura and Erica happen and Sterek kisses ensure. Do you happen to know what fic I mean and the name of the fic? xx

Hey I'm trying to find a fic. I think the name was daddy issues, but I'm not sure. Maybe it was daddy issues. It was one where stiles was with a bunch of guys (including Derek Hale, Chris Argent and others I don't remember) thanks!

hey I was wondering if you could help me find a fanfiction where stiles works for like a suicide or depression hotline and derek calls one day and the two of them kind of bond? I've been looking everywhere for it and I cant seem to find it!

10.

hey! ive been looking for a fic for a real long while. the whole pack goes away to a cabin for a bonding experience, with people sharing rooms. there is a beach, and places to go shopping. lydia and/or allison go shopping with stiles at somepoint and get him things so he looks super hot at a club. white pants and something painted on him. and then derek freaks and leaves them all. lemme know if you know this one???

11.

Hiya.! Well, I read this fic about a year ago and it was amazing and I want to read it again but I forgot the name, it's a fic were Scott was never bitten and stiles gets kidnapped and taken to some werewolf camp in Newyork and becomes Derek's mate and eventually meets his family. Can you please help me? And btw. Your blog is amazing. It gives me life.

12.

Hi I was wondering if u knew a series on archive of our own where stiles gets kidnapped with Boyd and Erica and comes back With them and joins that pack and becomes Derek's mate and then later in the series he yells at Derek and Cora about taking the pack away from him if he doesn't act nicer to them thanks sorry for the crappy summary

13.

okay i dont know how far out of canon you like to go or how AU you like, but do you recall a sterek fic that had stiles getting tattooed for magical purposes and part of the tattoo requires 3 blood donors (father-sheriff, brother-scott, lover-derek) but he hasnt told derek the lover bit yet and the chick tattooing him is like some elf girl i think named leeloo or something.... i just cant find it in the tattoo stiles track or the magical stiles track. it was either a series or one big ass one.

14.

do you know a sterek fanfic where Stiles is an omega werewolf and he stumbles upon the hale territory and Derek Hale plans to take him in for only one night but Stiles makes breakfast and the pack love him and cliche blah?

16.

hi, wondering if you can help me find an older fic, it's one where Stiles is magical and Derek's pack is grown up, I think Boyd and Erica have a kid, and someone tries to set the pack house on fire but now its magiced fireproof, but the forest burns, and the hunters come but Stiles uses his magic to bring the forest back to life and ties himself to the land... Sorry that's a weird synopses but it's all I can remember clearly

17.

Hey can you find a fic where the pack was using stiles in training like hunting him but a werewolf jumps him in the woods and stiles thinks it's derek and submits and it turns out it wasn't derek and since stiles submitted derek says the alpha has like a certain amount of days to get stiles to say yes and that was as far as I got please find this!

18.

hey so I'm looking for one fic, I hope you can help find it :) it's about Stiles being sacrificed to the werewolves to keep the town safe and there's whole werewolf village. there was no Hale fire, Laura has a husband and kids. later Scott was bitten by some rouge (or Peter I don't remember) and came to the village 'causee hunters wanted to kill him. I remember that when they were fighting other weres or maybe hunters (or was it just fullmoon?) Stiles saved Laura's kids from being killed. help?

19.

do you know the fic were in which Derek helps hook stiles up with some dude & in the process he reveals that he's into stiles & stiles kind of ignores it so Derek eats ice cream and watches Disney movies and stiles happens in on him & is all, "what."

20.

i'm looking for a fic that i think is a 5+1 cuddles thing? all i can remember from it is that there's a fae fight in alison's bedroom and derek got ripped apart so stiles pushed him into the closet and is trying to hold derek's guts in? i've asked a lot of ficrec blogs but no-one can find it for me, so thanks in advance if you can!

21.

Can you please help me I already tried twficfinder, LJ, etc. Its a sterek fic made in 2012 where Stiles helps Derek get his families life insurance, parents will or just money cause he's living in a bad place & has no income. Derek feels guilty & doesn't feel deserving of that. Stiles drives them to where the person in charge of fixing that is. Derek might be rich. They buy wood for the floor of the Hale house. Scott or Sheriff ask why he's helping Derek. Its not Out of Milk or Hale Construction

23.

I'm looking for a fix where stiles hires a dom, but she declines and instead he goes to derek? I think at one point, they make a list of things that are allowed, and everyone can see the bruises left behind, but stiles is really happy. Any help is much appreciated!

24.

Do you know the one where Derek hurts stiles ankle before a carnival or fair and takes stiles but ends up attacking him but is stopped by a psychic and she puts Derek's wolf in stiles so that stiles is the alpha

26.

hi i was wondering if youve read a sterek fic where derek basically tells stiles that his mom dying was nothing compared to him basically killing his family cause of the fire. i cant seem to find it anywhere.

27.

I've been looking for this fic everywhere and I can't find it! It's attempted non con with stiles and a original character but stiles hits the guy with a rock and kills him by mistake and calls derek panicking and derek helps cover it up. Do you know it?

29.

Okay, so I need help. I have been looking for this fic for over a year and i was wondering if you knew it. It's where stiles is a kid and his mother is in the hospital dying, and derek is in a coma from the fire and they connect on a telepathic level and stiles brings him out of his coma and stiles mom dies and the derek moves and checks up on stiles yearly. HELP ME PLEASE?? Thank you for taking the time to read this.

31.

Hi! So I'm trying to find a fic (it was lengthy) but I'm pretty sure it was a 5+1 trope, and its like five times Sheriff recognizes Derek as a son? All I can recall is at one point Sheriff thinks Stiles killed Derek and he offers to help him hide it?

33.

I read a Sterek AU ages ago but I can't find it now, I was wondering if you'd read it and could possibly send me a link? It's the one where Stiles sets up an online dating account to mock people and he starts talking to who he thinks is Derek. The two become really good friends but when Stiles goes to meet Derek he finds out that Derek has no idea who he is and Laura started the account for a joke, and is engaged.

34.

Hey! I was just wondering if you could find a fic for me? All I remember is that it was really short, about soulmates and stiles was playing a drum in the snow! Thanks! I've been looking for it for ages!

35.

Hi bb can you help me find a fic? Derek & Laura(?) are twins. Stiles has magic powers & is bff w/ Laura, who later dates Lydia or Allison. Derek paints Stiles in an attic or something & Laura is jealous bc she doesn't want sterek to happen. Thanks!

36.

i think its backround sterek, but do you know the fic where the pack is afraid to touch stiles because they think they're hurting him but really it's touch starved!stiles

38.

Hey, I've completely forgotten the name to fic, I remember that stiles is a lil bit of a delinquent so the sheriff gets derek who's a college student I think to watch over him and they have sex and they're sort of like fuck buddies and at some point it's Derek's birthday and he has a party at his apartment??? idk do u guys know this fic lmao please help!!!

39.

Hey so love your account Anyway I was wondering if you knew the story where the pack like finds a mysterious knife and stiles cuts himself and then gets thrown into the past and is trying to get Paige and Derek together? I hope that made sense Again love the account, such a life saver!

40.

Hey I was wondering if you knew the title of the fic where (I think its Stiles) who's a single father and his daughter is obssessed with bunnies and at some point Derek makes a lil park in the backward for the bunnie?

41.

Ok so I'm looking for a fic where it's after the hale fire and Derek lived in a small cabin by himself then he sends for omega human stiles and they live with each other cause Derek needs pack and he stays in his wolf form a lot of the time. It's like a super slow burn and angst you. Can you help a bro out?

43.

Hey, I read this fic once on ao3 about Stiles having tons of nightmares from the nemeton after Derek leaves. Then he starts calling him when he has panic attacks. He has to do the underwater sacrifice to get rid of the nightmares and when he comes out of the water Derek's there waiting for him and then they get together... It's seriously driving me crazy that I can't find it!!! Do you know what fic I'm talking about??

44.

hey im looking for a fic and I've been googling increasingly strange things but i just cant find it so i was hoping you might have read it? im pretty sure its quite short, but basically allison goes to stiles to ask about werewolf sex and then stiles makes derek give him the werewolf sex talk so that he can clue the rest of the pack in. thank you xx

45.

Hi! I'm looking for a specific fic! It's like Stiles is at a club, and he's sitting at the bar and sees his ex walk in and he gets really panicky because he starts walking over so he grabs the closest guy to him and kisses him? And it turns out the guy he kissed was Derek? I can't find it anywhere!

46.

Hi i was wondering if you could help me find a fic. I dont really remember much just that it was sterek and that cora read some spell that sent Derek back in time and he ended up mating to Stiles but when they have children Cora fixes it and Derek goes back to him normal time and tells cora that he has to go back because he has a mate but cora tells him that he has to wait until the full moon i think and in the end he and cora go back to stiles time and stay there

47.

I was wondering if you might know of a fic I am looking for. It's one of those Sheriff Finds Out ones and it's in his POV. I remember that it had Melissa in it and she let the Sheriff into a house/Room where the pack (they are a pack in this) was all cuddling in groups. I remember once specific moment where he observes Alison and Scott and notices their closeness with Isaac. And I am pretty sure Stiles is asleep on Derek. I know this is not very descriptive but I was wondering if you knew of one

48.

Hello I'm searching for a sterek fic I read a while back and I can't find it 😔 it's a fic where Stiles discovers he's a wizard or a shaman or something like that and he's linked to plants somehow and there are many pack interactions like pack cuddles and stuff so many pack feels and then the pack is being attacked and the forest is destroyed and Stiles manages to grow it back and he's like part of the forest it's such a great fic so beautifully written, do you happen to know what's this fic?

49.

Hello, lovely. I have been trying to fing a fic where Dean and Cas from Supernatural are Stiles parents and Derek knocks him up. While Stiles goes through the pregnancy, a Big Bad from the past comes back and messes with Stiles. Sorry, this is vague.

50.

I was wondering if anyone remembered a story where Stiles was half-daeva (I believe), Scott was his Permissor, but no one else in the pack knew until another pack kidnaps them and stiles shows up to destroy them all. I remember reading it ages ago but I can't find it in my bookmarks :/

51.

Hi, can you help me find sterek fanfic? It's coffee shop au, Stiles is barista, Derek is customer who wants plain coffee but Stiles always goes crazy with toppings, there us Peter too, creepy but good, can't find it on ao3 (╯︵╰,)

52.

Ok I've been searching for this one fantastic fic I read ages ago but can't find and was hoping you guys might know! It's established relationship w pack mom Stiles and he's away at college but they all just kind of move in w him and he buys Erica tampons and Boyd McDonald's gift cards and brings Chinese food and is generally lovely?? I think it was a one shot and relatively short but I'm dying to read it again :(

53.

Hello! I'm looking for a sterek fic. I think it was a 5+1 type fic where people/random strangers thought the pack members were Derek and Stiles' children. Please and thank you! :)

54.

Idk if you find sterek fics but i can't remember it, please help. Stiles is kidnapped by faeries but then talks them into a peace treaty? I think it was on archive but I'm not getting anything.

57.

Hi! I can’t seem to find a fic I love and was wondering if you could help me find it? Stiles is in a bar with friends, I remember Lydia and Jackson being there, and is insisting he is a Alex god who can get any number he wants and jackson tells him to get that guys number and points to Derek and stiles basically goes up to him and says “I am trying to convince my friends I’m attractive can you give me a fake number?” and he does but it turns to be real???

58.

I’ve been looking for this fic where stiles has been out of town for a while and when he gets back he stops at this gas station on the edge of town and gets jumped by some redcaps I think? And then the guy who runs the station comes out and sees this kid covered in blood and calls Derek because strange kid I’ve never seen before covered in redcap blood, maybe come check this out? And Derek didn’t know stiles was coming back early because it was supposed to be a surprise. Thanks so much!

59.

I love your blog and I was hoping you'd help me with this fic I've been looking for forever. Stiles is either an orphan or his dad is irresponsible, and he's not exactly highly regarded but the Hales and of course Derek love him and welcome him at their house. But Stiles feels guilty/unworthy and doesn't always want to accept their help. At one point, he turns feral or something and Derek has to coax him out, and one of the Hales have a baby who loves Stiles (I think Peter's or Laura's). Thanks!

60.

hey :) there's this old fic i want to re-read where stiles is a mage(or someone who controls elemental magic) and hes hurt/rejected by Derek and leaves with someone where there are other people with elemental magic and he trains. If it helps: I remember in the big fight they wore shirts that matched with their powers. Could you please help me? thanks

#lastchance #sterek fic rec

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missysvault · 4 years

Text

Playing with Food

Summary: “Now: movies with me or leave me alone?” It’s Halloween and you want to watch your cheesy movie marathon in peace. Missy has other ideas.

Warnings: NSFW. Blood is mentioned, it’s present in a sexy way, but also serves a functional purpose on account of Missy being a blood-sucking creature, MIHOW

Word Count: 2970

A/N: Yes I know it’s mid-November.. Yes you’re still getting this vaguely October themed fic, I just wanted to write Missy as a vampire

The TARDIS should not be as dark as it was. Usually it was well-lit and easy to navigate, sympathetic to your poor sense of direction. Tonight though it wound endlessly and you were sure you were lost; you hoped someone would find you before you got in too deep. “Poppet, what are you up to all the way back here?” So this was her fault. The tone of Missy’s voice told you there was no way she’d just innocently come across you. Sometimes when she wanted a captive audience she’d get you so disoriented you had to rely on her to get back to a familiar area- it happened at least once a month.

“If you wanted to play hide and seek, I would’ve liked to be told first.” You turned to face her, but she was much closer than expected and you stumbled back against one of the many doors on the wall. She was on you in a second, arms boxing you in on either side; you were a little taller than her, but she was by far stronger. Missy had you in her grasp as soon as she’d laid eyes on you. Her teeth shone in the dark hallway, just barely reflected with the wall-mounted candlelight. Of course, she’d bother you on Halloween with her hunger, how appropriate. “Moreso, just ask if you want to bite me.”

Missy’s face dropping into an exaggerated frown, making a disappointed noise. “Oh you’re no fun. Fine, let me bite you.” She said it matter-of-factly, not even bothering to make it sound like a request. If she was quick with it, you wouldn’t have minded, but theatrical as she was, Missy was determined to always make a long show of it and tonight, for once, you had plans.

“No, Missy, I’m busy.” There was a movie marathon calling your name tonight and being late was not on the agenda. In a moment of boldness, you tried to escape her cage, but to no avail. One strong hand shoved you brutally back into the door, the heel of her palm digging into your abdomen with so much force you knew she was bruising you. “That hurts-“

“And being rejected hurts. We’re in the same boat.” She was being a child, most likely because she hadn’t eaten in a while. She did look a little bit more pale than normal, but her strength was clearly still present so it couldn’t be too bad, still enough to make her irritable. “I am letting you live here even though you’re no help to me,” Missy stepped forward, pressing her body to yours and sandwiching you between her and the door, “The least you could do is help me once in a while.” Her fingers ran over your neck, checking your pulse, all the while staring deep into your hesitant eyes. How dangerous she looked shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was and yet...

You sighed, trying to play off much cooler than you were. She’d never hurt you out of malice, but what she was capable of always stuck in your mind whenever the two of you butt heads. “We both know that’s untrue.” Missy wouldn’t let you touch anything critical without supervision if you’d tried, but she enjoyed your presence and so did the TARDIS. She was the one to ask you to stay. “Would you like to come watch cheesy 80’s Halloween movies with me, Missy?” Maybe you could distract her long enough to get through a film or two if you held out long enough. Your arms wound around her waist despite her hand still painfully pinning you to the closed door; sometimes a hug softened her for a short moment. The bared teeth grin on her face no longer scared you for things such as this; she had the complex of a small dog.

“What I would like is to mark up that pretty neck of yours.” Missy’s gaze fixed to your throat, seemingly entranced, slowly moving forward until her mouth was at the base of your neck. Her tongue marked out the exact spot she sought to feast on, she did bite, digging into your skin until you were whimpering, helplessly caught between her and the door, but you never felt the sharpest of her teeth. “I could've been done by now.”

“You wouldn’t unless I say you can,” you wheezed, clinging to whatever resolve you had left. Determined as she was, she’d bide her time until you gave into her willingly. It tastes infinitely sweeter that way, Missy always claimed. You didn’t know if that were true, but it certainly gave you some leeway in persuading her to wait.

Missy pulled away, her face still too close to be read properly, but the challenge was clear on her face, “Yes I would.” This back and forth game amused you; maybe you could have more fun than just your traditional movie night alone. It was Halloween after all, some new entertainment would be a treat. Missy faltered for a split second and you gave one good push back against her and thankfully, her hand eased long enough for you to move more freely.

“No, Miss, you wouldn’t.” Hand fully out of your stomach, you pushed off of the wall with Missy still in your grasp. With a small kiss pressed into her hair, you released her and took a few steps backwards down the hallway until you were a safe distance away, not daring to break eye contact with her. “Now: movies with me or leave me alone?” You were being braver than usual and you didn’t know why, perhaps the late hour made you more ambivalent to Missy’s threats, but why she was letting you get away with it was a bigger mystery. One thing you loved about Missy is how plain emotions read on her face. It took awhile for her to open up to you in such a way, but now you could read her like a book and when her expression mellowed from irate to complacent, you knew you had her for at least a bit. “Is it a movie then?” She stalked past you without a word and you followed, knowing she’d find your room faster than you could.

You only expected to watch one movie with her; she wasn’t obligated to watch an entire marathon deep into the night, especially with how harshly she judged them. “Why is she running towards the lake?” You sighed and slumped down, resting your head on her chest. Missy was nice enough to insist you lay on her while you two binged the constant stream of cheesy 80s horror and you certainly weren’t one to ever protest that.

“Why are you still watching if you’re so upset?” It wasn’t that the movies were good, per se, but they were in season and you watched them every year, just for tradition. Usually it was a solo activity, free from criticism, but this year you’d spent more and more time with Missy and after your latest harrowing adventure, she’d convinced you to stay aboard the TARDIS with her a while longer and before you knew it, October was upon you. You’d missed out on a lot of things this year for her, but this was one event you could still enjoy and you thought sharing this with her might be nice. “No one’s forcing you here.”

Missy groaned, her head hitting the headboard as it fell backwards. “I can’t spend time with my little human? I didn’t know how badly you wanted me gone.” Her hurt voice made you wary, of course you wanted her around. Hardheaded as she could be, you did love her.

“It’s not that, Miss, I just… watching these every year means a lot to me.” You craned your neck to press a kiss to the arm she’d draped over your chest hours ago, patting her soft skin lazily with a gentle hand. “I am enjoying watching them with you though, no matter how much you say you hate them.”

Missy huffed, but pulled you into her nonetheless, kissing the top of your head. “Maybe I don’t despise them…but they are taking your attention away from me.” She nuzzled her nose into your hair, calm and sweet as opposed to the young teens being slashed at on screen. Missy would never say it, but spending time with someone else was a big reason she’d asked you to stay; you’d heard her talking to the Doctor about how lonely travel could get, especially when gone for long stretches of time. You’d missed her when she set off for what was supposed to be quick, but ended up as five months and when she asked you to come with her again, you did, not wanting to chance losing her again. Watching dated horror movies wasn’t together wasn’t top on the list of things you’d expected to do while aboard, but you wouldn’t complain.

Once the third movie started though, it seemed all bets were off. It was innocent cuddling at first, giving you gentle squeezes every once in a while and whispering funny Jason Vorhees jokes into your ear whenever the film tried to be too dramatic, but she had ulterior motives. Once she judged your guard lowered enough, Missy slid her hand over your inner thigh, rubbing in small circles with her thumb in a way she knew all too well you had a weakness for. This was her game; she’d waited for hours until you were sleepy, effectively weakened from laying securely in her arms all evening, poised and ready for the perfect time to strike- and you’d fallen right into it. Asking her to sit through a movie she had no interest in, why would she ever agree. No, she was interested in you or really, what you could provide for her. The hand not poised for attack at your hips now held your upper body securely against her where it had once been a lazy, comforting hold and as you tried to push yourself up and wiggle away, you realized you were effectively caught. “You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as a funeral, my darling.” Her mouth still rested behind the shell of your ear and you could feel her predatory grin as she slipped past the stretchy waistband of your loose sweatpants. “Now, I’ve indulged you in your little Halloween fun, I think it’s my turn now, don’t you?” Mostly you were mad at yourself for falling into yet another one of her traps; you thought you’d diverted her, maybe that she’d given in and that was your fault. It was all you could do to try and focus on the television, but even there teens were hiding away in a barn to make out despite the murderer still on the loose. “Maybe if I take you out to a secluded lake like them, I could have you all to myself. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

You rolled your eyes noncommittally, much too distracted with how she was bunching your shirt into her hand, exposing your nipples to the cold air. “No, you only have me on a spaceship floating throughout the galaxy, too many other people to daydream about here.” Missy would drop you off in the middle of nowhere just to keep you to herself and the concept was way too appealing.

“And yet you wouldn’t give me what I wanted,” she tsked, grabbing at your breast and rolling the tight bud under the cool pad of her thumb. “How disappointing.” It was awful really, how quickly and efficiently Missy could manipulate you like you were her own treasured piano. Your friends, Bill especially, would laugh if they saw how easily you folded for someone you were so heavily warned about, but it was worth it. “And here I thought you’d be my good girl.”

“Missy-” She cut you off with a tug on the ear with her teeth, making you hiss. Movie all but forgotten, you wiggled under her, trying to shift your hips against her fingers to no avail, whimpering to an unsympathetic ear. She pinched hard at your flesh as a warning and you stopped squirming immediately. “Please? I’ll be good, promise.” You tilted your head to lock eyes with her, pleading silently for her to finally touch you properly and meeting only a borderline sadistic smile, you knew all was going according to her plan.

Her fingers went wandering down your abdomen, a gentle touch turned harsh as she scratched her blunt nails back up, leaving bright red lines and spotty drops of blood in their wake. “Pleasee, I’ll be good, promise.” Missy was mocking you, taunting your change of tune from earlier that evening; she did that when she was particularly unforgiving, mocked you for giving into her. “You, dear girl, are lucky that I’m so nice.” Not the word you’d use to describe being lured into a trap with short-term domestic bliss, but nevertheless, you shuddered when she grabbed you through your underwear and as hard as you thought about putting up a fight, the idea of just melting into Missy and letting her take you over for however long she wanted was so hard to resist. So you didn’t. “Open up for your mistress, dear.”

You did as she said, parting your legs to a sugar laced that’s a good pet that had you wetter than you’d ever admit and lithe finger slid past elastic fabric and over slick folds. “Don’t you ever get tired of getting exactly what you want?” It didn’t sound nearly as daring as you’d like, but it was all you could manage. A singular sure fingertip circled around your clit, teasing until your thighs twitched for her.

“Hmm..” Missy pondered, tapping her fingertips against you as you thought, “nope!” She slammed into you, two fingers deep, giggling at your surprised yelp as she stretched you with her curling digits. “Quite love it this way.” You bent your knees, planting your feet into the mattress for any kind of purchase against the sudden rapid assault below. There was no need for teasing tonight; Missy had you where she needed, now she wanted you riled and wanton, begging for her as soon as humanly possible and it wouldn’t take her long at all.

In a matter of moments you were breathless, on the verge of collapse, clinging to Missy’s legs on either side of you, aching for her presence to ground you even as she mercilessly thrust into you. “Missy, I am begging you, just please-“ She expertly wrenched every moan and cry you could offer her, reveling in the power she held over you, but she wasn’t done yet.

“Ooh, desperate now, are we?” Soft lips grazed over your neck, calm and cool where your blood pumped hot and fast, trying desperately to keep up. “Let me taste you and I’ll give you whatever you could possibly want.” You knew you were going to let her; it was a matter of when instead of if, especially as she held your orgasm in her hands. There was a pain that came with it, you knew from experience, but it was worth it for the thrill that came right after. Missy didn’t bite you often for your own good, she didn’t need to anyways, but when she wanted to, well, she always found a way. “I’ll clean up after, no mess this time.” Occasionally she left you bloody simply for the aesthetic of it all and you complained of ruined clothes and sheets, but honestly tonight you didn’t care either way.

Your nod was barely there, easily could’ve been mistaken for just a twitch, but she understood. With a reverent kiss over the hickey she’d made in the hallway hours before, sharp fangs pressed into the thin skin of your neck, piercing with the swift accuracy of a needle. It hurt just like you remembered, but Missy was shushing you before you could cry out, cupping your head with her free hand, thumb brushing over your flushed cheek as an implied I love you while she held you close against her mouth. You were coming before you realized, overwhelmed with the combined rush of endorphins from her bite and the orgasm she tore mercilessly from your body. It should be impossible to feel this blissful, possessed, and so deeply wanted at the same time and yet… You made a passing note to your future self that you didn’t know why you ever resisted this at all- but then you realized she was forever intent on taking every ounce she could from you before you passed out. “You’re going to kill me…”

She would never, not really. The first time you agreed, you were sure she’d quite literally bleed you dry, but she was careful, always in tune to when you’d given enough. Missy pulled away as you came down from your high, the dreaded sting on your neck promptly soothed over by her wet tongue. “Don’t be dramatic, you’re fine. I could do a lot more.” And she could, but she loved you and you amused her so she wouldn’t. If you had more control you’d reach to kiss those blood red lips, but you felt akin to a pile of jelly and it was all you could do to hazily smile in her general direction. Thankfully, Missy was aware how ‘lovey’ you could be and pressed her lips to yours, granting you a purposely messy kiss. You could feel her grin before she pulled back, fingers also slipping from you and placing them on your lips. She tapped your wet, parted lips until you let her in, sucking on instinct. “Be a good girl and suck, maybe I’ll let you come again.”

#missy x reader #missy/reader #gomez!master x reader #doctor who imagine #the master x reader #yes hi hello I've written this and it's my first published reader fic #soooo #my fic.

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CXL (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: This gif is huge but it’s the only one I could find with detective!Erick vibes and it excels at it so enjoy -Danny

Words: 2,936

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Black Butterflies and Déjà Vu’ (Acoustic) -by The Maine

Chapter Two: Just Friends.

HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?

Rumours continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted once more...'

"Well, look at that," Mel threw the paper onto the backseat. "Looks like Harry's going to have a fun year."

"He'll enjoy it no doubt," Erick replied, his eyes fixed on the road. "Is it true, though?"

"You were there..."

"I mean the prophecy."

They'd been driving for two days and they still had no idea where Slughorn could be. Mel was starting to miss her bed and her hair was gross, she was more than grumpy.

"I can't talk about it."

"Yes or no would be fine..."

"If you want to believe it go ahead, I'm sure Harry'll appreciate one of his friends participating in the gossip."

Erick scoffed, she looked back at him with a frown.

"What?"

"I don't gossip about Potter," He grumbled. "And I don't think he'd cared if I did. We're not friends."

"After all you've done you think he would consider you a mere acquaintance?"

"You remember how he treated me last year at Grimmauld Place?"

"You remember how he treated everyone last year?" She raised a brow.

"I've spent lots of good moments with you — but him... you really think he considers me a friend?"

Mel opened her mouth but nothing came out of it, she had no idea.

"Lots of things can change in a year," She said at last.

"Maybe," Erick agreed, then he looked at her shortly and smiled. "You're still the same girl from six years ago, though."

Mel let out something that sounded like half a snort.

"Because I'm the only one that doesn't bully you?"

"You're the only one that bullies me," He laughed. "Listen, you might think that being sweet sucks, but that's not all you are. You're the best witch of our age..."

"Doubt that," She said bitterly, "if I were I'd be the one with a prophecy, don't you think?"

"So there is a prophecy?"

"I'm just saying," Mel responded promptly. "That if I were meant to do great things, the stars would've said something about it — I wouldn't be so incompetent..."

"The stars are balls of gas floating outside the planet, not deities," Erick rolled his eyes. "Don't you remember what I told you?"

"You've said many things to me, you have to be more specific."

"You can do anything, but you're afraid it won't end well. You're the only person who gets to decide your future," He glanced at her once more. "So what is it, Miss Dumbledore? Are you going to make history?"

"I'm going to have lunch," She concluded.

"You have the picture?"

"Of course I have the picture, I'm not you."

"I left it in the car once!" Mel scowled. "And we weren't close to finding him!"

"Quiet," He fixed his hat. "We can't attract attention to ourselves."

"In that case, you should stop acting like a fool," She snatched the hat out of his head. "You're ridiculous."

"No!" He pushed his hair back grumpily. "My hair looks weird today!"

"You look fine — let those poor curls breathe, they suffer under all the things you put on them..."

"I only use wax," He grumbled. "Wouldn't hurt you to brush your hair for a change..."

"I already cut it," She gestured vaguely to her bangs. "The hardest thing I've done in my life, by the way..."

"Hardest thing? The fight in the Ministry was a breeze for you?" Erick snorted.

"You know what —"

Mel froze; a small man was approaching the house across the street. Erick grabbed the photo from inside his pocket and stared at it, then nodded. They turned their backs on the man, both of them staring at the reflection of a window to keep an eye on Slughorn.

"We're eight hours away from home... what if he moves while we're driving back?"

"Don't think so," Mel watched as the man opened the door with a flick of his wand. "He stays at least four days in each place, he'll be there long enough for us to inform my uncle."

"Okay," The boy smiled. "We did it."

"This isn't over," Mel squeezed his arm, noticing the two figures ahead. "He's been followed."

"What?"

"Look..."

She discretely pointed to the other two reflections: men in dark robes were standing seven houses away from Slughorn's. Mel didn't recognize them, but no muggle would walk around wearing that kind of clothes.

"We have to get rid of them."

"You read my mind," She responded. "D'you think they know we're here?"

"They're following him, not us..." He tilted his head and eyed her up and down. "How do you feel about being the distraction?"

"You think you can take down two death eaters on your own?"

"If I can't and they kill me, I know you can."

"Fair enough," Mel grinned. "I'll lure them into the alley, wait for us there..."

The girl crossed the street, she didn't know if they would know who she was, but she was hoping her face was still unknown to most wizards. She crashed against one of them and dropped her wand on purpose.

Both men froze and quickly retrieved her wand; Mel gave them a panicky look over her shoulder that she hoped was convincing. The wizards had been taken by surprise, but they ran after her. She took a shard turn and ended up cornered in the alley.

"Bad luck for you, missy," said one. "We can't —"

A flash of blue hit him on the back, then a second one reached the other man and he fell forward too.

Erick walked into the alley. "We should obliviate them."

"Sharp aim you got there," Mel commented.

"Thanks," He replied casually, "are you all right?"

"Yeah, they were too busy giving a dramatic speech," She stared at the men and frowned. "Dumbledore said Slughorn was afraid like everyone else, but it looks like he's got a reason to be hiding, don't you think?"

Erick crouched down and inspected the men's pockets.

"Nothing," He sighed. "Can't blame Dumbledore for hiding stuff — The more we know the more the Death Eaters could get from us if they catch us."

"He told my mum I'd be safe," Mel scowled. "What does he value more than what's left of his own family?"

Erick raised a brow.

"Did you get hurt?"

"No."

"Listen, we're inexperienced, he's not going to trust us right away with all the information —"

"It's thanks to me and Harry that he's found out half of the things he knows! If that's not enough then I don't know what he wants!"

"I don't want to argue with you," Erick stood up. "He said he would tell you everything, I don't understand what's the problem..."

"I don't understand why you're okay with being his puppet —!"

"I'm not a puppet!" He replied fuming, then pointed his wand towards the men. "Obliviate!"

In less than a minute it was done. Erick fixed his robes and snatched his hat from Mel's head.

"Time to go home."

Mel threw a soft punch at him and Erick grunted, staring at her with confusion and holding the place she'd hit.

"I hate it when you act like that," She picked up the men's wands, "like a villain."

"Thought you were over fairytales," He muttered. "Villains aren't real..."

She walked past him and slammed the wands on his chest, Erick grunted again.

"You know I'm right!" He followed her out of the alley. "You would've done the same!"

"Shut up!"

They arrived at Privet Drive in the afternoon, she saw Harry move away from his window and knew he was going to ask them all about their adventure.

"Don't mention the Death Eaters to Harry."

The seatbelt snapped back into place and Erick hissed, shaking the hand he'd hurt.

"Why?"

"If he finds out I was chased down a street he'll go crazy, and I've been trying to convince him to... to stay out of my problems. Leave it to me, I can handle his tantrums way better than you."

They got out of the car, Mel opened the trunk and pulled out her bag as well as Erick's.

"Hi!" Harry greeted. "How was your mission?"

"Successful," Erick said shortly.

"How're you?"

"Brilliant!" She said. "I have to take our bags inside, so..."

"Let me help," He replied.

"Oh, I got it! Erick needs a hand in the kitchen, though..."

"I still don't know how the stove works," He put an arm around Harry's shoulders and guided him into the house. "I was thinking chicken soup, but I have no idea how to cook it!"

"Sure," Harry followed him cheerfully, Mel had the feeling he'd missed them.

"Did you find the man?"

Erick hummed.

"Cool," said Harry, grabbing three plates from the sink.

Mel was upstairs taking a shower, Erick begged for her to hurry.

"Did... er... Did all go well for real?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you really just found the man and came back?"

"We came back as soon as we finished, yes. She was safe at all times, I promise."

"I know," Harry put the dishes on the counter. "I would've felt something otherwise... you know about the lifeline, right?"

He knew about that, whatever made them feel each other's pain. Erick didn't understand how that worked, but he'd never asked.

"Right," He nodded. "Bet you must hate that..."

Harry stared at him.

"She didn't tell you? What Dumbledore said to us?"

"Why would she?"

"Well," Harry looked down again, drying the plates carefully. "You're the one she goes to when she has a problem."

"Only when I'm available," He said quickly. "It's just... lately everyone else is always preoccupied with... well, you."

Harry hadn't thought about it, but that was true. A few weeks ago half of the order had gone to King's cross just to talk to his uncle, everywhere he went the conversation would always end up being about him.

Mel had known Harry for nine years and she'd always looked after him, with or without the connection, he understood why she felt like they didn't need it. Harry, on the other hand, depended so much on their lifeline to make sure she was safe... but was it really necessary? Would it be equally helpful for both sides? They truly needed to give each other space to think.

"I'm glad you're here," He confessed. "Don't think I'm being helpful... all the things I've done... all she sees when she looks at me is Voldemort."

Erick didn't wince, which caught Harry's attention and made him curious.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You're from a pureblood family, but they weren't Death Eaters... How come you're not afraid of his name?"

"Oh," Erick tilted his head. " knew I wasn't supposed to say it, but I was used to hearing it. My Grandad would call him Voldemort all the time... I just never say it out loud because, you know..."

"I was really rude to you last year," He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You had your reasons..."

"They weren't good enough."

"Listen, Harry, I know how it is... feeling like you're on your own, having one person that makes your life better and then having to walk away because you could hurt them more than you make them happy — I've been angry like that too. Actually, it also happened in my fifth year. Guess we do have things in common, huh?"

Harry had a funny look on his face. It was true, they did have a thing in common: They both wanted the best for Mel.

Right now, the best was Erick.

"You're a good bloke, Flint," He admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to Mel before, we could've been good friends since the start."

"I wasn't likeable then, believe me," The Slytherin chuckled. "But she refused to take a no for an answer... She's something special, isn't she?"

"She is," Harry agreed.

"Yeah, she is," He sighed, perhaps a bit too dreamily.

This didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"Listen," The boy began carefully. "Take care of her, alright?"

"I don't think she needs a man to look after her," Erick replied distractedly.

"No, listen, don't make the same mistakes I did — I don't want her to suffer, that's why I gave her up in the first place. You understand that?"

One thing Erick knew from talking with Hermione and the twins was that Harry never admitted that he'd dated Mel. He had no idea why he'd been chosen to be the first to hear it.

"I don't know if she — she doesn't want me that way," He'd never felt as embarrassed about anything in his life as he did now, standing in front of this sixteen-year-old who somehow made him feel like he was an idiot.

Harry stared at him carefully, he took his time to answer.

"If she says no, I know Mel will make you regret it if you bother her too much — But if she wants you... I don't mind it."

"Okay," Erick said hoarsely. "Thanks?"

"Excellent," Harry grabbed the plates and set them on the table.

Erick stared at the boy and couldn't help but wonder how much Harry had to suffer to stop fearing the little things in life like demanding stuff from an older, taller guy?

Or maybe, just maybe, Harry wasn't afraid of him because he was a friend.

Could that really be it? He'd been waiting for this quite some time, and yet he couldn't stop the thought of something else being the real reason behind Harry's serenity. He wasn't the same boy Erick could torment by pretending he was flirting with Mel, and for some reason, he found that disturbing.

"One last thing?" Erick turned off the stove.

"Yeah?" Harry looked at him over his shoulder, eyes attentive.

"My old friends used to call me Flint," He smiled a bit. "So please, call me Erick."

The boys were having lunch when she entered the kitchen.

"I hope the Dursleys didn't make you starve while we were gone," Mel said as she sat in front of them.

"Not much."

"That's not good," She raised a brow. "How long till Dumbledore comes for you?"

"He'll pick me up tonight, didn't he tell you?"

"Haven't seen him since we left..."

"You're still moody, then?" Erick raised a brow, noticing her pout. "Thought the shower would help, I genuinely believed your bad mood was thanks to the underwear you'd been wearing for —"

"We don't need to talk about that," She blushed.

The boys laughed and she stared at them, what was that about?

An owl flew in through the window and landed in front of Erick.

"Dumbledore," He raised his eyebrows. "He wants us to go with him and Harry... We must be ready at seven as well. I should pack..."

"No need — Mum took all our stuff, our trunks are waiting at the burrow. She took Grey too."

"Ah, so that's why my feet haven't been attacked today!" Erick folded the letter. "Okay then, looks like you won't get rid of us for the rest of the summer, Glasses."

"Pity," The boy replied.

"Hang on!" She pushed her plate away. "I left you alone for half an hour and now you're best mates? You can't call him Glasses — Only I get to call him that!"

"You're the only one that calls me that because it's a stupid name," Harry raised a brow. "I call you Mellow but everyone else does too! We never said my nickname was exclusive. If he wants to sound stupid then let him."

"You see? He doesn't mind," Erick smirked, then he understood Harry's words and frowned. "I do not sound stupid."

"I feel betrayed," Mel sulked. "I'm not sure I'm liking this friendship between you."

"You were the one who wanted us to get along!" Erick exclaimed. "You should be happy! Looks like your efforts finally paid off..."

"Only took us two years," Harry grinned.

"I finished with the laundry and it's your turn to wash the dishes —" She walked into Erick's room and gazed up from the basket. "Shit — You're naked!"

Mel looked away, feeling her cheeks burning at the sound of his hearty laugh.

"I just took off my shirt!"

"I came here to leave your clothes — Possibly a shirt you can wear right now..." She walked up to the bed, Erick did so at the same time.

He didn't mean to walk up to her half-naked, but he didn't step back either. He just stood there, his chest moving up and down with every breath.

Erick had freckles over his shoulders, he also had thin scars across his torso from the cuts that had almost killed him. Mel redirected her attention to his face only to meet his hazel eyes softened by the sunset, his lips were forming a tiny, yet noticeable smirk.

"I'll take that," He seized the clothes gently, "and I'll wash the dishes after my shower."

"Okay."

"And I'll lock my door from now on since no one taught you to knock first," Erick teased, she felt like he could tell how fast her heart was beating.

Mel looked up at him resolutely.

"A prince doesn't expose a lady," She said in a firm voice.

"I'm no longer a prince," He replied without breaking eye contact, "and you've never been a lady."

Mel stormed out of the room without even responding.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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sayonarasanity · 3 years

Text

Reverberation

Chapter IV

link to AO3

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3

Hideous. It was the most hideous thing she had ever seen.

Hanji observed her reflection in the mirror, with her mouth twisted in disgust, each and every hair on her body standing on end. Her hair fell down from one shoulder as a short braid, its tip barely reaching the slightly visible bump on her chest under the school uniform.

“Disgusting,” she commented.

“You look beautiful,” her mother exclaimed, wiping the imaginary tear from under her eye. Hanji sent her a very Levi Ackerman signatured gaze from the mirror. “I hate it.”

Her mother approached her from behind. She was a little shorter than Hanji, her head merely reached her neck. The older woman put her hands on her shoulder and caressed gently.

Then, getting her mouth closer to her ear, she whispered, “You lost the bet, honey.”

That she had. Cold-bloodedly and ruthlessly lost a bet which should’ve been the last thing she would agree to let alone losing it in the first place. Never again would she challenge the instincts of her mother while watching a TV series and guessing whether the main character would live or die.

Worst, and biggest mistake of her life.

“Mom,” she whined, losing every drop of dignity she had with playing the emotional blackmail card. “Please. At least, don’t make me do this on the first day of high school.”

“Rules are rules,” her mother said, ignoring her entreaty then proceeded to fold the clothes piled on top of her bed. “And since when do you care about what people think about you?”

“It’s not that,” she sighed. “I just don’t feel like myself like this.” She pulled at her hair, wrinkling her face.

“You’re not a kid anymore, Hanji.” She walked to her closet and put the folded clothes inside one of the drawers. “Bear it for one day.”

“But I don’t want to.” She groaned, covering her face with her hands and lying her head backwards.

Hanji felt her mother come close, then her hands cleared the dust on her shoulders and fixed her hair. “Have a nice day at school.”

Hanji let out a frustrated moan which was very successfully brushed off by her mother.

“Morning,” she muttered insipidly while she entered the kitchen. A bowl of cereal was ready for her already and she poured milk inside of it as she sat down on one of the chairs.

“Morning, honey,” her father responded. Hanji noticed that his voice had faded towards the end. “Umm, you look, uh, nice.”

“Don’t,” she warned, her mouth full and directed her spoon threateningly towards her father. “Dad, don’t say another word.”

Her father’s face was very red as he obviously held back his laughter. He coughed into his hand and cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, of course, of course.”

Just then, her phone vibrated with a text message. She didn’t need to look to know who it was from. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re not really mad at me, are you?” Her father asked as she got up from her seat and dropped her bag on her shoulder.

“No, dad, of course, I’m not.” She rolled her eyes and waved. “See you.”

Levi was waiting in front of the house, his back facing her. When he heard the sound of the door closing, he turned around.

And he froze.

“Levi, listen to me very carefully,” Hanji started calmly, while Levi stood as rigid as a stalactite. “If you so much as breathe I swear I’ll chase you to the school.”

Levi looked her over, with his customary, blank gaze which was almost impossible to read. Yet, Hanji knew him well, maybe better than he knew himself and she also knew that he was giving one of the biggest wars inside of himself to not give up and laugh at her face.

However, Levi Ackerman was not one to laugh. He had other ways to show his belittlement and mocking. He lifted his fist to his mouth, as his eyes shone vaguely with amusement and snorted, audibly. “Lookin’ good m’lady,” he said as if he was a 19th century English gentleman and was about to ask a high-born lady to dance in a flamboyant ball.

Frankly, Hanji didn’t even know what felt so wrong about braiding her hair, neatly and orderly on the first day of school. But for some reason, maybe because of the goddamn puberty she was going through—she was almost fifteen anyway—it irked her in a way nothing else did. And Levi was oh so aware of it.

“Ackerman!” Hanji snarled, as blood rushed to her cheeks in light speed and hence started their first-day marathon.

Levi had inhumanly fast reflexes. One second, he was standing in front of her, and the other he had already hurled himself to the street, running like a goddamn horse on a race. Hanji didn’t lose much time following after him, her steps were hard and fast on the ground. The braid her mother had so delicately made was winnowing left and right on her back as well as her backpack.

After almost ten minutes of exhausting and intense chasing, Levi was the first one to throw himself into the borders of the school. Hanji’s lungs were burning as if they had been exposed to hot, boiling water when she stumbled into the wide yard, breathing heavy and coughing miserably. Her neck, chest and back were all sticky with sweat. Levi was bent over, hands on his knees, his shoulders were rising and lowering with his fast inhales. He was tired too obviously.

But Hanji wasn’t done with him yet.

After her breaths more or less stabled and her heart quieted down, she sneaked up to him from behind being very aware of the crowd of students around them. No one cared about them just yet. And most certainly Hanji didn’t either. Levi slowly lifted his body, his schoolbag almost slipping down from his shoulder, and his neck shiny with droplets of sweat. He made the mistake of not checking what was behind him and hence gave Hanji the golden opportunity to jump onto his back.

“Hah!” she exclaimed. “You thought you could run away from me that easy—"

Her sentence was cut short when she realized that things weren’t going much as planned.

“Hanji!” he snarled and then, “Hanji, you fucking idiot!” Levi grabbed her legs and stumbled dangerously to the left. To where a table full of plastic glasses of lemonades was located.

“Oh no,” she gasped and held his shirt in her fists, tightly. “Oh, no. Levi, shit, watch out—"

So much for taking revenge. They both screamed at the same time when Levi couldn’t carry her sudden weight with his already tired and unstable body and together, they fell.

“Holy fuck!”

Hanji blinked her eyes. She was sitting on the ground, the ground which was wet with lemonade, as well as her uniform, her legs and she guessed, some parts of her hair. And if she was in such condition, then that also meant that Levi too—

A pair of arms wrapped around her neck from behind, making her gasp in shock. “Make your last wish, Zoe.”

“Levi,” she breathed, as he clung to his forearms with her hands. “Levi, please. Have mercy, have mercy!”

“In your goddamn dreams,” he tightened his arm around her neck just vaguely. Hanji knew he wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.

She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. “I didn’t mean to—” she managed to say. “But you deserved it.”

He snarled right next to her ear. Oh, shoot. He was so, so pissed. “You’re dead.”

“The first day of high school,” an older and authoritative voice spoke from somewhere above them. Hanji looked up to see a man around his forties, with dark yellow hair and round glasses, wearing a well-ironed white shirt and black trousers. He had a blank, serious and bearded face. “And I see some of our newest students are already having fun.”

Hanji opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, or what excuses to line up, but Levi spoke before her. “It was my fault.”

“Levi!” she whispered harshly, turning her head slightly backwards to look at him.

“I am touched,” the man continued. Was he a teacher or someone else Hanji couldn’t exactly tell. He appeared to be way soberer to be one. “I didn’t know teens these days cared for each other this much. What are your names?”

“Levi,” he answered without so much delay.

“Hanji,” she followed right after.

The man nodded. “I am Adam Smith,” he introduced himself. “The headmaster.”

Oh, dear, Hanji thought bitterly, I wish I had the chance to look at my books one last time. Then she closed her eyes, afraid of having to face Levi’s wrath.

“And this is my son.”

Surprised, and with a slight hope, she dared to have, Hanji half lifted her eyelids, and her eyes travelled up until they met a blond boy around their age who had eyes as blue as agate. He was the most clean-cut boy she had ever seen since Levi. His school uniform was ironed straight without a single wrinkle left, and his hair seemed like quite an effort had been spent on it just this morning. But he looked friendly.

“Erwin, escort your friends to their houses and make sure they come back until the end of the first class,” the headmaster ordered the tone and his expression not altering just a bit.

“Yes, sir,” the boy affirmed, nodding.

Mr Smith then stared at Hanji and Levi. “I won’t give you two any punishment since it’s the first day of your high-school life,” he said, his eyes moving back and forth between the two of them, intimately. “But I won’t be as considerate as I am now in case of any further improper conduct.”

“Yes, sir,” Hanji said, successfully remembering the fact that she was able to speak.

“And young man,” the headmaster directed his piercing gaze to Levi. Hanji felt the rising and falling of his chest on her back. She wished she could see his face too. “Mind your language or else I might have to speak to your parents the next time.”

Hanji couldn’t see Levi’s reaction but he must’ve at least nodded for the headmaster soon turned around and started to walk towards the door of the building.

“Here, let me help you.” As soon as his father left their side, the boy, Erwin, extended his hands to them to help them get up. Hanji accepted the gesture with gratitude and smiled at him as she stood on her feet again.

“Thank you.”

Levi stood up by himself and glared at Hanji then at Erwin. “Why the hell there was a table of lemonades on the goddamn schoolyard?” he asked, already forgetting the very threatening warning he had just received.

“My father thought it would help new students to get adapted easier,” Erwin explained. “I hadn’t thought it would work, to be honest.”

“Well, it didn’t.”

“I am Erwin,” the boy introduced himself then, nodded at Levi and smiled at Hanji.

“Hanji,” she said, beaming at him. “Say, Erwin, how is it like to be the son of the headmaster?”

“Complicated,” he replied gently. “I can tell you more on the way.”

“That would be great!” she exclaimed. “Right, Levi?”

He was still glaring at her, his clothes were half-wet, one side of his hair was sticky with lemonade, he looked like a forcefully bathed, grumpy cat. “I need to take a shower.”

“We don’t have that much time,” Hanji looked at Erwin for confirmation. “Can he?”

The boy shrugged. “Sure, if he makes it quick.”

Levi nodded then turned around toward the exit of the school. They started to walk behind him with Erwin. Hanji felt pretty much guilty watching him go, although she was the right one here in the first place. Still, she felt bad. She even felt more uncomfortable about the lemonade on him than on herself.

“Best friends?” he asked, probably noticing Hanji’s regretful gaze following the boy walking in front of them.

“Yeah,” she nodded, looking at him. “Childhood friends.”

Erwin hummed; his sharp, blue eyes moved to Levi. “He seems… intense.”

Hanji couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “He kind of is.”

When they got out of the school borders, she realised she wouldn’t be able to keep this tense atmosphere any longer. She needed to talk to him. “Sorry,” she said, sheepishly. “Do you mind if I catch up to him?”

“No, of course. Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” she touched his arm. “It was nice to meet you by the way. I hope we’re in the same class.”

He smiled. “You too.”

Then she turned around and ran up to Levi, who was radiating his dark aura as if he was some kind of a nuclear weapon.

“Frailty, thy name is woman,” she recited when she reached up to him. Then bit her lower lip when he glared at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Fuck off.”

“You can’t stay mad at me forever, you know.”

“Watch me.”

“Leviii!” she exclaimed, then wrapped an arm around his neck. They stumbled together a little until they found their rhythm back. “I am sorry, okay? But I still think you kind of deserved it.”

“Get off me,” he pushed her lightly from the stomach. “You stink.”

“You stink too. We’re both sweaty.” She paused then added. “And we’ve just taken a lemonade shower.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Of us both.”

He sighed. “Whatever.”

She watched his profile for a while. “Am I forgiven?”

He met her gaze, eyes searching hers. He didn’t seem much angry anymore. “I’ll consider it.”

She smirked. “Roof after school?”

He nodded without even stopping to think. Seemed like she was forgiven already. “Sure.”

At the end of the first month of high school on a supposedly autumn day, she was standing in front of his door, wearing a black, denim jacket, sweatpants and holding a scissor in her hands.

“Missed me?” she stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. Levi closed the door, eyeing her suspiciously.

“It’s been only two hours since I’ve last seen you.”

She gasped as she stepped out of her shoes. “It’s been precisely four hours, thirty-seven minutes and—” she looked at her watch briefly. “Forty seconds since you’ve last seen me. I can’t believe you can be this reckless about the time we spent apart, Levi. And you call me your best friend.”

“I am regretting that sometimes.” Hanji ignored him as she walked inside the house. “Where is everyone?”

“In their rooms,” Levi raised his brows. It was almost midnight. “Why are you here?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“In this hour, yes,” Levi said matter-of-factly. He had no problems with having her here, never had, but it was Friday, and he was kind of tired. “So?”

Hanji raised the big ass scissor with one hand. “I want you to cut my hair.”

“Your hair?” His eyes scanned her hair, as messy as always, brought together with a black hair tie on the top of her head as a ponytail. “Four-eyes, I think you mixed the buildings. The hairdresser is down the street, on your right.”

Hanji rolled her eyes then stepped closer to him. “I don’t want to go to a hairdresser. I want you to cut my hair.”

“Hanji I’ve never cut anyone’s hair. Are you out of your mind?”

Rather than answering, she pressed the scissor on his chest so much so that he almost felt it on his ribcage. Her eyes were resolute and serious. “I am going to give you all my power.”

Levi sighed; his eyes moved up to the ceiling. The yellow light dazzled his sight, and he wondered what the hell had he done to deserve this at this hour of the night. Yet, there was a part of him, a part he was sure controlled more by Hanji rather than himself, and that part kept up with her bizarre mind almost subconsciously. “Samson?”

“Yes.” She was smirking when Levi lowered his gaze from the ceiling to look at her.

Levi shook her head. “You should stop living your life by fictional or Biblical characters.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Levi took the scissor she was continuing to press upon his chest when she applied more pressure not so subtly to imply him to hold it. She took her jacket off when he did and started to climb the stairs. Levi fell into step with her without losing much time.

“Why do you want to cut your hair anyway?” He asked, wondering.

“Because I don’t want to be the subject of my mother’s evil deeds anymore,” she replied with a low, dark voice.

“You are the one who is adamantly losing the bets,” Levi reminded her. Meanwhile, they had started to walk towards the bathroom through the dark corridor. Levi turned the light on as he passed by the button, then followed Hanji into the bathroom.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Your mother, obviously.”

She threw him a nonchalant look, “Traitor.” Then she reached for her hair tie and pulled it off.

When had her hair grown so long? Levi blinked as he watched the brown strands falling down from her shoulders in waves. Towards the end, a few of them were curling slightly on her back. He also noticed the different tones of brown, light, dark and chestnut, shading some parts of her hair. When her glasses followed the hair tie after, and Hanji put them on top of the washing machine along with her jacket, he asked, bewildered. “Who are you?”

She eyed him first like she was trying to figure out the reason why he was so shocked. It didn’t last long until the wheels sat in their places. “I am the evil twin,” she replied easily then, with a glint in her eyes. “We have to wash my hair first.”

Oh? Hanji willingly offering to wash her hair? She was that desperate about cutting her hair then. “We?”

“I can’t wash it on my own. I am practically half-blind right now.”

“Just say you have no idea about being clean, and we can get it over with four-eyes.” Levi dropped the scissor on top of her jacket and bending over the bathtub he turned on the tap, waiting for the water to get hot enough.

“Who am I to talk in your presence, Your Cleanliness?” She said, then laughed at her own joke, tilting her head backwards.

“Shut up,” he had tried to be strict and curt, not that he had failed. If only he hadn’t snorted right after. “Idiot.”

To wash his best friend’s most of the time hygiene neglected hair was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so Levi took his sweet time, rubbing her skull and her long locks with his shampoo two, three times until he was totally satisfied with the result. Hanji was restless as expected, she whined when shampoo got into her eyes and grunted when he pulled on her hair by mistake. Levi didn’t quite care about her compliments. She was the one to offer this whole thing after all.

After he thoroughly rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, he handed her a towel then got out of the bathroom to bring a chair for her to sit down.

When he came back, she was combing her hair in front of the mirror. “You sure about this?” he asked as he dropped the chair behind her and gestured her to sit down.

“Of course, I am.” Hanji settled down on the chair, and Levi, after getting the scissor back from the top of the washing machine, stood behind her. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

“I am not promising a clean-cut,” he warned her beforehand and travelled his hand through her wet locks. The smell of the shampoo was clear and fresh and on the reflection in the misty mirror, her cheeks and eyes were vaguely red. She smiled when they made eye contact.

“I trust you.”

Cut.

The brown strands fell on the white tile one after the other, the metal scissor was the only one making sound inside the bathroom. Levi tried his best to cut her hair in a straight line just above her shoulders as she had requested. He didn’t know if he made a good job or failed miserably and gave her the worst haircut of her whole life. And he wasn’t sure if Hanji was faking it or not, but she looked ecstatic when he was done with the cut.

“I love it!” She was grinning at her reflection, now standing in front of the mirror. “Thank you, Levi!”

“Yeah, sure,” Levi said, doubtfully. He was still pretty much convinced that she was pretending. “You’re welcome.”

The stupid grin stayed plastered on her face as she wore her glasses and tied her now quite short hair. It wasn’t a successful attempt. Only a quarter of her hair had managed to fit into the tie, the rest was falling off on her nape and around her face.

Hanji gave him a thumbs up when she saw the way he was watching her. Still not satisfied but thinking that if Hanji was happy then it was all good, Levi shrugged. “You’re gonna stay the night?”

She paused for a second, thinking. Then nodded seconds later. “I’ll text my mom.”

After cleaning the bathroom, Levi brought Hanji a set of clothes for her to change into. He then went back to his room to prepare his bed for the night.

“I am so tired,” Hanji said, yawning as she joined him after a few minutes. She closed the door and sat down on Levi’s bed.

“You can take the bed,” Levi offered and patted his own pillow which was lying on the head of the makeshift bed on the floor. “The sheets are clean.”

“How very nice of you,” she said, smiling.

Levi turned off the light before he got under the sheets. He lied on his back, watching the dark ceiling. Every now and then, a car swept by and its yellow headlights filtering through the curtains created shadow patterns above.

When only minutes passed by, “Levi,” Hanji called him softly.

“Hmm?”

“These sheets smell like you.”

“Oh?” He blinked up to the ceiling, and his mind made a quick tour around the events of the past two days. He must’ve forgotten to change them. “Well, shit.”

She laughed quietly, and Levi turned his head to the side looking up at her. “Sorry, do you want me to change them?”

“No, it’s okay.” She tossed over to lie face down. Half of her face was on the edge of the bed. He could make out the lines of her lips and nose, and fluttering eyelashes. “You always smell nice.”

“I smell—”

“Clean, I know,” she snickered. “Hey,” she said then.

“What?”

“What do you think about the high school?”

“An asylum stuffed with a bunch of arrogant teenagers.”

“You are a teenager too, Levi.”

“I am not arrogant.”

“No, right, you’re a clean freak.”

“And you are a half-mad genius. We blend in.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, quietly. “We do.”

His eyelids got heavier and his breaths steadier when he thought the conversation was over for the night. Darkness lurked over him, it was deep and wide, and dominant. It demanded him to surrender, and he almost did until he heard Hanji’s voice again.

“I think our classmates are cool, though.”

He blinked open his eyes, “Yeah, some of them,” he muttered, voice dripping with sleep.

“Erwin is very intelligent,” Hanji went on, unaware. “He knows a lot of things. I think I like him the most. What about you?”

And just like that, he was wide awake again. “You sure do seem to get along really well,” he said bitterly, ignoring her question.

“Don’t tell me?” Levi heard the sheets rustling and felt Hanji looking down at him. “Are you jealous?”

“The hell does that mean?”

“So, you’re jealous.”

“Fuck off,” Levi turned his back to her, lying on his left.

A few blissful seconds passed in silence, then Hanji said, “You are though.”

“Am not.”

“Levi, come on,” Hanji urged his side until she made him lie on his back again. “Look,” she took the hand which was resting on his chest and enlaced their fingers. “You don’t need to be jealous. You know why?”

“I am not jealous. For fuck’s sake—”

“Because we are soulmates,” she cut him as if he never made a single word. “Which means there is nobody in the world who can understand you better than me,” she went on. “And there is nobody in the world who can understand me better than you.”

In the dark, Levi stared at their hands curled together, the tip of her fingertips was touching the back of his hand. And he pondered over how warm, smooth and somehow strong her hand felt against his. Strong as her existence, strong as her very soul and mind. Warm like the first days of summer and resilient like the frost-bound fist of a fallen soldier. She pressed their palms into each other, and as another car drove by the street Levi looked up to her face half-hidden in the shadows. Newly cut, damp hair resting like a dark nimbus on her cheek. Dark shades of her eyelashes were lined up on her cheekbones and they were reminding him of the beams around the sun. And she was staring at him like what she had just said was the only truth on earth.

He felt himself nodding, approving because she was right. Of course, she was.

I am an astronaut, he thought abruptly, completely out of the blue .

“Goodnight,” she whispered then, he caught her smile just as the light vanished, and she was covered by darkness again.

Not entirely. It was innate in her. “Goodnight.”

He had no knowledge of the period after his conscience left the screen but until then he didn’t let go of her hand.

And neither did she.

“Hanjooo!” A muscular arm wrapped around her neck all of a sudden, while she was reading a book during the break, in front of the window on the school corridor.

“Hey, Mike,” she said, overcoming her shock at his sudden appearance.

Mike was a blond, green-eyed boy from her class. He was pretty tall and muscular for their age and she was almost certain that if the headmaster let him, he would absolutely grow a beard. “Are you free after school?”

“Umm, I guess?” She blinked. “Why are you asking?”

Mike smirked, playfully and kind of slyly. “I thought we could hang out together.”

“Together?”

“You and me,” Mike explained to be clear.

“You and— oh,” Hanji stopped as she kind of understood what Mike was implying. “But aren’t you, uh, I mean, don’t you have a thing for Na—”

Mike let go an uproarious laugh and patted her shoulder, almost making her choke on her own spit. “Joking, joking. We are thinking about hanging out after school. You know, me, Nana, Erwin, you and your little friend too if he would like.”

“You mean Levi?”

“Yeah.”

She hummed and shrugged. She didn’t think Levi would say no if she agreed to go. “I’ll ask him…”

Just then, she saw Levi climbing the stairs with Petra who was another classmate of theirs and one of Levi’s friends from middle school. They were talking at the same time; Levi was nodding to something Petra was telling him. The scene was quite ordinary, just two friends talking to each other, but Hanji had realized it was the mimics that were kind of different. The way Petra pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, the way she was smiling shyly at something Levi had said, the way Levi’s features were relaxed and almost soft as he talked to her.

And also, as for herself, the way she felt her shoulders tense, the way something murky, almost venomous walking tiptoe on her gut. It was a strange and unwelcomed feeling and she quickly got disposed of it as Levi moved his head and their gazes locked for a second before his eyes travelled down to her shoulder and he glared at it as if he had just seen his biggest enemy.

Petra touched his shoulder lightly and said something Hanji couldn’t hear, and he nodded absently while Petra walked away to the other direction toward the class after a brief glance at Hanji’s side.

Levi walked up to where Hanji and Mike were standing. “Hey!” she greeted him, smirking.

He squinted at Mike who was retreating his arm from around her shoulder at the time and nodded at her stifly.

“I’ll see you after school, then,” Mike said. “You too, man,” he added addressing Levi, then turned around to walk up to Erwin who was sitting at one of the tables placed next to the wall.

“What is that giant talking about?” Levi asked after Mike left.

“Well, buckle up,” Hanji told him while shutting her book with a thud. “We’ve got plans after school.”

It was February, and it was cold.

The five of them were walking through a park, all around there were giant, old and naked trees that were reaching high up to the sky. On the earth below them, thousands of pale leaves were piled up. The colours of fall were still visible here and there, on the yellow, orange and red skins of the leaves, on the pine trees down the road, on the dry rustle of the brown branches.

“How pretty,” she cooed.

As Mike suggested they were hanging out after school. If walking through a park counted as hanging out that is. Erwin, Nanaba and Mike were walking before them while Levi and Hanji were following them right behind.

“What is?” Levi asked.

“The colour of fall,” she replied with a smile.

“It is Winter,” he objected but looked around himself nonetheless then hummed confirming.

“Hey,” she urged his shoulder lightly. “Wanna race to that tree?”

Levi followed the direction Hanji’s head gestured with his eyes. A single tree just some miles away from where they were. “Why would I race with someone knowing they will lose?”

Hanji scoffed, “Don’t underestimate me.”

“Are you challenging?”

“What do you think?”

She put an arm on his chest to stop him from walking any further. “On three.”

They took position side by side. Hanji felt her mouth curling up, and a peal of laughter shaped on her throat, but she avoided it from going out and counted to three instead. “Go!”

They both hurled forward at the same time and she felt their friends looking at them surprised as they ran past them, but within minutes Levi was far beyond her. Like the first day of school, he was running like his life was depending on it, his dark hair a wild wave and his steps seemed like he was more like flying than running. Hanji was laughing breathlessly as she forced her legs to their limits, her short hair sticking to her nape with sweat, and she ran, ran and ran to the tree with him, with a wind he carried, the storm he ruled. As if she were a ship without a helm so she merely let the wind lead her to the harbour.

Levi won, in the end, but he lost his balance when Hanji, unable to slow down, crashed against his back. Along with grunts, swears and laughter they fell down, lying side by side on top of the leaves. Breathing heavily and loudly, chest moving up and down, watching the clouds sliding slowly one by one.

She turned her head towards him, still breathing hard and traces of laughter on her lips and she saw him looking upwards with the slightest but peaceful curl of his mouth. His eyes shone like the sand under the midday sun, like invaluable pieces of stone, like the surface of the moon. The colour of fall around his head, sweaty, raven hair scattered on the leaves whose time had long passed. The red colour of fall on his cheeks, because of the cold and because of their race. For the first time, she realised how dark his eyelashes were. Black like the wings of a crow, the feathers of a raven.

For the first time, she realised how beautiful he was.

Beautiful? The word startled her like an unexpected jolt of lightning. She almost winced, frozen on the spot. She didn’t know why, she couldn’t name the curl, crawls on her stomach. She also didn’t know the reason why she felt like crying, her breath hitched, her eyes wide, terrified. She couldn’t understand what felt so wrong about this but somehow it was undoubtedly close to denying gravity.

“What?”

He was staring at her, a frown shaped on his face. She winced visibly; she hadn’t noticed him looking back at her.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” His frown deepened.

“Yes,” she lied and quickly stood up albeit a little clumsily. Then fixed her clothes and hair. “Perfectly fine.”

He was looking suspicious as he too stood up. “You sure?”

She nodded drastically, avoiding meeting his eyes. “Let’s go join the others.”

Then she turned around without giving him a chance to speak. Crashing whatever had happened just now with each step she took and relentlessly stepping on the wildflower she felt sprouting within her stomach.

Watching the way the flames moved was addicting. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the dancing fire, the red knots flying around it like fireflies, the transit of colours from tip to the end and the crackling sound it made. It was a good enough distraction from her uninvited thoughts.

“Didn’t think this was what they meant by hanging up.” He sat down next to her on the sand. They were on the beach, stupidly challenging against the cold weather.

She smiled playfully. “Why? Did you think we would go to a party and get tanked up?”

Levi threw her an unimpressed look, “No. I thought we would go to a café with an air conditioner and drink hot tea.”

He got a point, she couldn’t deny. “They managed to make a fire though,” Hanji said, extending her hands toward it.

“Yeah, I am impressed.”

She snorted lightly and wondered where the other three had been. They had gone to buy beverages and snacks to eat about ten minutes ago.

“Hey.” Hanji felt him sliding closer to her. Their shoulders almost touched. “Are you okay?”

She nodded watching the flames with unfocused eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

She looked at him then to find him watching her carefully, with his full attention on her. She thought about the wildflower, and as she sought a solution, she found it on him again. “We are besties forever, right?”

Seemingly confused, Levi frowned vaguely, trying to see beyond her words. And maybe he did or maybe not when he replied she almost lost her courage to continue. “No, not forever.” It lasted for merely seconds, because she had understood what he was coming to. “To the last syllable of recorded time,” they said at the same time, echoing each other.

She smirked, as he chuckled. “I can’t believe you make me say it every time.”

“I don’t make you say it,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You are saying it willingly.”

He grunted and looked away, a smile stayed hanging on the corner of his lips, the flames painted his face, played with the colour of his eyes. It was there, the word, so close to invade her mind yet again with guns and rifles. It was that perilous to let it stay because it would only cause a ravage in her mind.

For that, she looked away too.

Do not water the plant, she thought to herself then. Let it grow old and decayed. Let it fade away.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Two

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Two

Luka looked different.

Not exactly in a bad way. Sure, his appearance was a little disheveled, and he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping or eating well lately, but Josie had said that he was going through a breakup, so that made sense. He didn’t look like he was a perpetual wreck…just that he was having a hard time at the moment.

He was slightly more muscular than Adrien remembered and maybe a little taller too. His hair was jet black now and kind of long on top with an undercut just in back. He had more ear piercings, and Adrien was sure he’d probably picked up another tattoo or two in the past four years.

The eyes were the same cool, relaxing blue, though, and his face was relatively unchanged save for a few lines here and there that either hadn’t existed or hadn’t been as noticeable before.

Adrien would recognize Luka’s face anywhere, though. You didn’t just forget the face of the person who made you rethink your sexuality.

“Luka?” he whispered, fear and dread and excitement lighting up every nerve in his body.

He was screwed. Luka knew who he was. Luka could tell the rest of the band before Adrien was ready.

He’d just had an epiphany about fixing his life and reconnecting with old friends and reaching out for help, but he wasn’t actually prepared to do anything about those things yet. This was too soon. He couldn’t—

“—Whoa there,” Luka interrupted Adrien’s runaway train of thought, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “I come in peace, I swear. I didn’t want to make a scene back there because I figured, if you were using a pseudonym, you wouldn’t want me to out you, but I wanted to talk to you.”

Adrien’s shoulders started to hunch up defensively, expecting the worst.

His father had hurt Luka and Luka’s family, and while it had never occurred to Adrien that Luka might take out his grievances on Adrien, it certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Adrien had seen perfectly nice people turn into ogres as soon as they found out Adrien’s true identity.

“How are you doing?” Luka asked, voice overflowing with concern as he took in Adrien’s appearance at close range, scrutinizing.

Adrien blinked in surprise because that was one of the last things he had expected to come out of Luka’s mouth.

“I’m…okay,” he answered disjointedly, still trying to get his thoughts together. “Why are you asking me that?”

Now it was Luka��s turn to blink at Adrien incredulously.

“I mean…I haven’t seen you in four years, and I’ve been worried sick,” he scoffed, hand going to his hip. “Adrien, you disappeared on us. No one got to talk to you and make sure you were okay before you left for London. You didn’t reply to any of our texts or emails. You didn’t pick up your phone, and then we found out from your cousin that you’d run away and no one knew where you were.”

Adrien averted his gaze, staring down at the sidewalk. He’d always felt guilty for disappearing like that, but…he just couldn’t deal with anyone at that point. Only now was he beginning to feel like he might be ready, but he still wasn’t completely sure.

“Of course I want to know how you’re doing,” Luka continued in exasperation. “I’ve spent the past four years scared that you were dead or-or worse. I care about you.”

Adrien’s eyes snapped back up to Luka’s to see the earnestness there.

It just about knocked him flat.

“You do?” he whispered, wanting to believe it.

“Oh my God, Adrien,” Luka hissed, stepping in and roughly pulling Adrien into a tight hug. “Yes. I love you. You’re a precious friend. A lot of people are worried sick and want to know you’re okay.”

“Oh,” Adrien breathed, letting himself sink into Luka’s arms. “I didn’t realize… I wasn’t thinking about…”

“It’s okay,” Luka whispered, giving Adrien’s hair a comforting nuzzle. “The important thing is that you’re safe. I’m just so glad that you’re safe.”

Tentatively, Adrien let his arms wrap around Luka, returning the hug.

The relief he experienced then was almost overwhelming. The warmth of another person, the protective shelter of Luka’s arms…it felt so good.

It had been so long since the last time Adrien had been able to relax his guard like that.

Luka pulled back with a warm, fond smile. “Want to get lunch together and catch up? Or did you have something else you needed to do?”

Adrien hesitated, thinking of his dwindling funds. He didn’t have money for food and lodgings.

He bit his lip. “I actually already ate before the audition, but I could just get a coffee or something. I’d like to talk.”

“Awesome,” Luka responded with a dazzling grin, feeling better than he had since The Breakup.

“You’re sure you don’t want to get a pastry or something?” Luka arched an eyebrow when Adrien really did just order an expresso. “I seem to remember you having quite the sweet tooth.”

Adrien forced a smile.

In truth, he’d kill for a hot chocolate and a pain au chocolat or something. He’d even settle for a fresh croissant, but he had to budget if he wanted to make it to his first payday with the band.

“I’m good, really,” he insisted.

Luka easily shrugged the matter off, far more interested in getting Adrien’s story out of him. “So where have you been these past four years?”

Adrien fingered his waterglass nervously as he tried to decide what to share. “I’ve been around,” he informed vaguely. “After I left London, I headed to Marseille…Nice, Lyon…Strasbourg. I’ve just been travelling around, seeing the country.”

“Huh,” Luka hummed. “That sounds nice, actually. I’m glad you’re finally getting to travel. I know you didn’t get out much before.”

Adrien nodded, keeping his polite smile in place.

Part of him felt dishonest for purposely misleading Luka into thinking he’d just been off gallivanting, but he wasn’t quite ready yet to confess how destitute he was.

“I just needed some time on my own,” he explained. “I’m kind of…you know…finding myself, I guess?”

Luka nodded. “So how long are you back in Paris, do you think? Have you been back long?”

Adrien shook his head. “I just got into town two days ago. I’m hoping to stay long-term, but I don’t really know yet.”

“What do you do for work?” Luka inquired, gazing at Adrien with interest as he leaned his elbows on the table. “You were getting your degree in Business, weren’t you?”

Adrien looked away. “Uh…I do this and that. I move around a lot, so having a stable job for more than a few months hasn’t really been a thing. I…”

He chewed on his lip, debating. “…I actually didn’t get to finish school. I was right in the middle of my degree program when my father was arrested, and things just…” He shook his head. “My world got a little upended, and I never made it back to school.”

He couldn’t afford it. The Agreste fortune was gone, and the money that Gabriel had said he’d been putting in trust as payment for Adrien’s work as a model for the company had never existed. There had been no accounts in his name, only his father’s, and that all got sapped up with the rest of the assets.

“I’m sorry,” Luka responded with a worried frown. “Do you think that’s something you’ll do now that you’re planning on being in one place for a while?”

“I’d like to go back to school,” Adrien answered truthfully. “Maybe someday…. But tell me about you. How are you? How’s your family? What are you up to nowadays?” he asked in rapid-fire succession, anxious to get the focus off of himself.

More than that, though, he really wanted to know what Luka had been doing the past four years. He wanted to catch up with his friend and get back in the loop so that he could start feeling like a part of Luka’s life again.

Long ago, they’d been thick as thieves, and Adrien craved that kind of intimacy. He would love to be close to someone again.

He listened intently as Luka told him about the bands he’d been in, about picking up violin and piano, his reconciliation with his biological father.

“At first I was thinking I didn’t want anything to do with him out of principle,” Luka explained. “I mean, he didn’t bother acknowledging me for twenty-three years; why should I acknowledge him? But then I started thinking, ‘Well, why shouldn’t I take his money? Don’t Maman and Juleka and I deserve it? It’s not just for me. He owes us this’.”

Adrien nodded in agreement. “Absentee parents are the worst. It’s not like money is enough to make up for the gaping hole in your life where he was supposed to be, so I don’t see a problem with you taking as much as he’ll give you. You’re not sacrificing your principles; you’re just taking a small fraction of what he owes you.”

“Yeah, I felt better when I started thinking about it like that too,” Luka confessed. “…Though…I’ve actually been having dinner with him and his family occasionally.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Oh? And…how is that going?”

A sheepish smile started to stretch across Luka’s lips. “Pretty well? I mean, it’s really surreal, but…” He shrugged. “Penny is awesome. She’s been invaluable as far as giving advice for my own career and making introductions and stuff like that. Their kids are also really cute. I kind of love them.”

Luka pulled out his phone and quickly found a picture of his half-sisters. “Michelle and Eleanor.” He pointed to the five- and three-year-old girls with cappuccino skin and big, expressive brown eyes. “Named after the Beatles songs, of course.”

“Aww,” Adrien cooed. “They’re adorable.”

“He’s actually a really good dad to them,” Luka admitted, even though it pained him. “That helped me forgive him somewhat. It makes me think that, maybe, if he had known about me, maybe he would have been a good dad to me too.”

Adrien smiled sympathetically and nodded, handing back the phone. “I’ve only interacted with him a couple of times, but he doesn’t seem like a bad, malicious person. Careless and distractable maybe, but…not bad, so…maybe you’re right.”

“But we’ll never know,” Luka sighed, shrugging again as he put away his phone. “I guess all I can do is see what he does going forward. Maman and Juleka were always enough family for me. It sucked sometimes not having a dad in my life, but I never felt like I needed him to complete me or anything. I don’t need him now either, but…it’s nice to be able to reach out and talk to him if I feel like it. I like that it’s on my terms.”

“I’m really happy for you,” Adrien replied with a sincere smile.

His own life and relationship with his father were rubbish, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy for Luka. He wanted good things for Luka. Luka was a wonderful person, and he deserved happiness in his life.

“Thanks.” Luka returned the smile, thinking about how lucky he was to have things that Adrien never would. “Seriously. That really means a lot.”

Adrien shrugged and was about to say something when the food arrived, completely distracting him.

Catching sight of the ravenous look on Adrien’s face, Luka arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want to order something?”

Adrien quickly snapped his poker face back into place. “No. I’m good. I just ate.”

He smiled innocently and took a sip of his espresso.

Adrien’s stomach let out a loud roar of protest.

Luka frowned.

Blushing, Adrien drained his water glass, hoping that giving his stomach something at least would make it shut up.

Luka pursed his lips. “…I think your stomach is ready to be fed again.”

“I’m really not hungry,” Adrien mumbled into his glass.

He could feel his ears starting to heat up in shame.

“…Are you sure? Because I don’t actually think I can eat all of this croque madame on my own,” Luka tried an alternative route, beginning to suspect the problem. “If you could split it with me so that it doesn’t go to waste, that would be awesome.”

Adrien looked up at Luka suspiciously. “You’re not going to eat all of it?”

Luka shook his head, pushing the plate across the table.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Adrien only hesitated a moment before taking half of the admittedly large sandwich.

It took an enormous amount of self-control not to scarf it down like a starving wolf because that was exactly what Adrien felt like.

Luka picked up his own half of the sandwich and chewed at it as he watched Adrien thoughtfully.

He waited until Adrien had finished to say anything. “…When was the last time you actually had a decent meal?”

Adrien blinked at Luka in surprised confusion. “I…I just ate earlier.”

Luka shook his head. “Adrien, you’re even thinner now than when you were a model. What’s going on? Why aren’t you eating?”

“I am eating,” Adrien argued fruitlessly, unwilling to drop pretenses and let Luka see what shambles his life was in.

Luka gave Adrien a look that told him that Luka could see right through him. “You’re a vegetarian. For the six years I knew you, whenever you had any say about what you ate, you always ate vegetarian because your mother traumatized you when you were little. Yes, you would eat chicken or pork or whatever if it was put in front of you, but you never enjoyed it, and you always picked at it. I just watched you inhale a ham sandwich like it was the most delicious thing you had had all month. Now, what’s going on?”

The hair rose on the back of Adrien’s neck, and his shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

Tears began to sting back behind his eyes as he realized he’d been tricked.

Still, he didn’t have it in him to admit defeat. He couldn’t stand to have Luka look down on him. That was why he’d never wanted to turn to anyone from his old life for help. He couldn’t bear for them to know how bad it really was and think less of him for it.

Everything else had been taken away from him; he couldn’t give up his dignity too.

“Nothing is going on,” he insisted, voice trembling.

Luka took a deep breath and reached across the table, resting his hand on top of Adrien’s. “Perfect Fifth?” he pleaded gently, using a nickname Adrien hadn’t heard in years and hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d yearned for it.

“Talk to me. Please,” Luka entreated, eyes soft and inviting. “I’m really worried about you.”

The tears started to fall as Adrien’s resolve shattered completely. He couldn’t do this anymore. He needed help. He needed to feel safe. He needed Luka to wrap him up in another hug and make things feel okay again.

“I don’t have any money,” Adrien hiccupped. “Like…none.”

It started as a trickle, but once Adrien got going, the dam burst, and he found himself confessing everything: “Father never put money in an account for me like he said he would. After he was arrested, they froze all of our assets, and then everything got eaten up in the litigation. There’s nothing left. I couldn’t afford to pay for university, and my aunt was really resentful of me staying with her, and it hurt too much anyway because she and Maman are twins. Whenever she’d say passive-aggressive things with my mother’s face, it really messed with my head, so I stole some money from her and left, but it’s really hard to find a job where you don’t have to fill out paperwork, and no one wants to hire Adrien Agreste,” he lamented bitterly, “so I’ve been washing dishes and cleaning hotel rooms and working in laundry rooms and kitchens and-and I’ve thought about becoming a sex worker because then maybe I could earn some decent money and not have to eat out of dumpsters or sleep on the street ever again, but I’m asexual, and I just-I just can’t,” Adrien choked.

Luka sat there stunned for a moment, trying to process everything Adrien had said. He quickly decided that processing fully would have to wait until later because Adrien needed Luka to jump in and do something four years ago, so there really wasn’t time to spare.

“Shhh,” Luka cooed, taking both of Adrien’s hands in his and rubbing his thumbs back and forth against Adrien’s skin soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, so just take some deep breaths, all right?”

Adrien nodded slowly, making an effort to compose himself.

“Where are you staying right now?” Luka inquired pragmatically.

“A hostel,” Adrien replied. “In Pigalle. It’s just a couple blocks from the Moulin Rouge.”

“How long do you think you can afford to stay there and pay for meals?” Luka pressed.

Adrien looked away. “It’s one or the other. I can stay there one more night and get some snacks to tide me over the rest of the week, or I can eat regular meals and sleep rough.”

“Okay. No,” Luka decided. “You’re coming home with me.”

Adrien blinked at him. “Sorry…. What?”

“My apartment has an extra bedroom. I used to have a roommate, but she moved back to Nice to help out with her sick grandma five or six months ago, and she’s not coming back,” Luka quickly explained. “You’re coming to live with me until you’re back up on your feet and feel like getting your own place.”

Adrien pulled his hands back away from Luka, frowning and shaking his head. “I don’t want your pity.”

Luka clicked his tongue, taking one of Adrien’s hands back forcefully. “This isn’t pity. This is what friendship looks like…. I have a feeling it’s been a while since you’ve experienced it, so I’m reminding you of how it works. We’re friends; therefore, I care about what happens to you and want to make sure you’re okay. I have enough crap going on in my own life without having to worry about you sleeping in alleys and passing out from hunger. Do me a favour and make my life less stressful. Come live with me so I know for sure that you’re not lying dead in a gutter somewhere. These past four years have been really hard, Adrien.”

Adrien’s jaw went slack, and his mouth dropped open. “…You actually care about me, don’t you?”

Luka nodded, giving a tired smile. “Very much. So, what do you say?”

Adrien inhaled slowly, trying to piece together fragmented thoughts. “…If you really don’t mind. If I wouldn’t be in your way.”

“Adrien, you would be doing me a favour. I’m serious,” Luka insisted.

Adrien pursed his lips. “…Okay,” he finally agreed, still not certain this was a good idea but knowing that it would be better than continuing to try to go it on his own.

“Good.” Luka’s face brightened as he squeezed Adrien’s hand and then let go. “Thank you. Now, let me flag down a waiter and have him bring us another menu. I’m actually starving because I woke up at noon and haven’t eaten all day, and I have a feeling you could eat more too.”

Adrien frowned, not understanding. “But…I can’t afford…?”

Luka waved Adrien’s protests away. “Until further notice, your expenses are my concern. Order whatever you want.”

The furrows in Adrien’s brow deepened. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“—How long has it been since you had a hot chocolate? A crêpe with chocolate sauce and ice cream and whipped cream?” Luka tempted.

Adrien thought very hard for a moment, trying to decide if his principles and pride were worth more than the luxury of eating something just because it tasted good.

His stomach won out, and Adrien decided that maybe it would be okay to be kept by Luka. There were worse things in life.

“Okay,” Adrien agreed, making a big show of how reluctant he was to do so. “I think I see your point.”

Luka’s impish smirk turned affectionate. “Seriously. Get whatever you want, but don’t eat too much so that you make yourself sick. I’m not going to let you go hungry, okay? You’re always going to have food from now on. You’re safe.”

It had been a long time since Adrien had last felt safe. It was a huge relief to know that feeling again.

“Thanks,” he whispered weakly, tears threatening to overwhelm him yet again.

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