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fanfictionaries · 5 years ago

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Oh So Many Years: Ch. 17 - Chasing Pirates

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

Fred receives another letter from Angelina and must face some tough questions from George.

Hermione struggles with her want to keep Harry informed, but is happy things are finally back to normal with Ron and Fred -- but are they really? And how will she cope with some unsettling news?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

We’ve got internet babies!!!

As always, please, please, please feel free to like, comment, and reblog. I LOVE interacting with you all!!

Masterlist

<<<Chapter 16

In your message you said, you were goin' to bed,

But I'm not done with the night. So I stayed up and read, but your words in my head, Got me mixed up so I turned out the light.

And I, don't know how, to slow it down. My mind's racing from chasing pirates.

Fred figured it was just his luck that in the confusion of everyone running from his mother, he ended up in his bedroom with George and Hermione. He also figured it was just his luck he was too angry with his twin brother to censor his words.

“Are you fucking kidding me George?” Fred seethed, trying to keep his voice down as they were in fact still hiding from their mother.

“Oh lighten—”

“No! No, I will not just lighten up! Why?! What was going on in that evil little skull of yours?” Fred’s hand tightened on the towel around his waist as he paced back and forth. He was angry. Angrier than he had ever been at his brother, which was saying something because he’d never actually been cross with George before. Sure, he’d been miffed and on the odd occasion annoyed by his twin brother, and vice versa of course, but never like this. No, he was well and truly pissed off. Which meant this was entirely new territory for the both of them as Fred tried to manage his emotional tirade and George tried to manage Fred.

“Well, I—”

“You know how things are with Angelina right now and you knew how I felt and then you had to go and do this? I mean, why would you—they—”

“Fred—”

“—especially after what I told you this morning. I mean, I know we’re in it for a laugh and all most of the time, and to be fair this was quite funny. If it were anyone else, it would’ve been a real gut buster. But come on. This was just cheap!”

“Fred—”

“And to include Ginny in it? What? Did you tell her?”

“FRED!” George whispered harshly, putting a stop to Fred’s pacing, and clamping his hand over his brother’s mouth. At first, Fred’s instinct was to rip George’s hand off of his mouth and continue his rant. He was upset. Therefore, he was entitled to as much whinging and scolding as he pleased.

But then he saw George’s eyes flicker to a very confused and sheepish looking Hermione sitting on the edge of George’s bed and that instinct vanished. His eyes grew wide, realizing only then that he’d been freely ranting about Hermione and himself with the girl in question sitting right there. Fucking arsing balls, Fred cursed in his head. How much had he said? Enough to give anything away or only enough to make himself seem like a raving lunatic? He thought about subtly asking George but didn’t get the chance.

Their mother’s angry footsteps sounded from the top of the stairs followed by her equally angry voice, “Someone had better come out here and face me or I’ll be knocking down every single door in this hallway.”

Fred’s head swung from his brother to the door and back. “You have to go out!” Fred whispered in a panic.

“Me? Why me?” asked George.

Fred looked down at his towel-clad body pointedly and then to Hermione who was still sans shirt. “First of all, you owe us. Second, I wonder how mum will feel when she finds Hermione in here with us like this,” said Fred.

George’s face contorted in conflict as the pros and cons of taking the blame for waking up Walburga once again, or having their mother find a half-naked girl in their room. Finally he gave a sort of whiny sigh.

He was just shy of opening their bedroom door when he turned and pointed a finger in Fred and Hermione’s direction. “I want you two to know that I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart and that by going out here I’m fully proving my remorse for this afternoon’s prank.”

“Just go!” Hermione squeaked, shifting uncomfortably, and holding her arms tightly across her chest.

George took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before opening the heavy oak door with flourish and slamming it behind him quickly. “Mum! You’re looking lovely this afternoon,” said George, his voice muffled as he now stood in the hallway.

“I should have known—” she sounded aggravated and slightly defeated, thought Fred “—let’s go. You’re going to help me shut that old bag up and then I think the basement closet needs de-spidering, George Weasley.”

“Come now mum, surely by now you’d be able to tell that I’m Fred.”

Fred sighed, shaking his head, and smiling against his better judgement. Leave it to George to have the last laugh. “Wanker…” Fred mumbled as he crossed the room to his dresser. He dug into one of the drawers and pulled out an old shirt. Throwing it in Hermione’s direction, he politely averted his eyes and began to grab clothes for himself.

“I didn’t know you were a Puddlemere United fan.”

“What?” Fred turned, her comment catching him off guard. While it was a Puddlemere United shirt, you couldn’t know that unless you were familiar with the navy-blue colour and golden crossed bulrushes.

“Puddlemere United,” Hermione repeated, staring strangely at his hand, and then looking away with a slight blush. Fred look to his hand to find that he was still grasping a pair of striped, blue pants. He turned around again, grabbing a pair of trousers – a brand of muggle jeans Lee had turned him and George onto – before grabbing a clean white shirt.

“Yeah. George is a bit more of a Falmouth Falcons fan, but I’ve always preferred Puddlemere. I didn’t know you knew anything about quidditch.”

Hermione let out a snort that while rude, Fred found to be quite endearing. “Please, you can’t be friends with Ron and Harry and not know at least a little bit about quidditch. I’ve read Quidditch Through the Ages at least five times.”

“Never would have guessed it from the vacant expression you get on your face every time it’s brought up,” Fred laughed, pulling his shirt over his head. The cotton material felt nice and light in the warm room.

“That’s because it’s usually Ron going on and on about the Chudley Cannons or how much the Slytherin house team sucks. The same story gets a bit boring over time. Now, if he wanted to talk about the history of quidditch rules and legislature, or the statistical odds of certain teams winning or losing, I might chime in.

“Just when I thought I had you figured out, ‘Mione.” Fred turned but paused, looking between the clothes in his hand and Hermione staring at him once again. While he certainly wasn’t shy, he didn’t really fancy Hermione getting a full view of his…full frontal for a second time that day. Especially when she hadn’t seemed all too cheery about it the first time. “Do you mind?”

“Oh! Um, of course—” Hermione turned, covering her eyes with her hands “—sorry.”

“S’alright,” Fred laughed. Something about Hermione’s embarrassment made him feel a whole lot better about the situation. “You know, I guess I was right.”

“About what?” asked Hermione, still facing the other way as Fred zipped up his trousers.

“Last summer when I guessed you were trying to see me and George naked.”

“Oh piss off!” Hermione cried, the tremor of a laugh in the back of her throat.

If Fred weren’t trying to tease her to make himself feel more comfortable, he probably would have gaped in pure delight that Hermione Granger had just told him to piss off. But, he was, so instead he continued, “You know if you really wanted to get a look, you just had to ask. I’m taken, but George would probably say yes…and Ron,” Fred hesitated to say the last part. The words had come to the tip of his tongue without him even trying, giving him pause to wonder why his brain was at all interested in what Hermione thought of seeing Ron naked. Because you fancy her, you daft git, scoffed the little voice in his head. Ah yes, there was that he supposed.

Hermione made a disgruntled sound, “Yes, I suppose that’s why Ginny was involved. She probably told George all about how she thinks Ron has a crush on me.”

“You can uncover your eyes now. I’m all decent.” Fred crossed the room and settled himself onto his bed, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Are you sure?” asked Hermione in a teasing manner. “I’ve been burned twice already today. I’m not quite sure I’m ready for a third time.”

“Shut up. You’re fine,” Fred laughed, throwing a pillow at the bookish girl.

“Oof,” Hermione grunted, the pillow knocking her to the side but making her laugh all the same. She brought her hands down, hugging the pillow to her chest.

“And how do you feel about that?” Fred asked Hermione, trying to make his voice sound as casual as possible.

“About what?” she questioned, running her hands over her mussed hair.

“You know, about Ron liking you or whatever.”

“Honestly?” Hermione asked, sounding like it was a topic she was entirely tired of talking about.

Fred perked up at this, watching Hermione crawl up George’s bed until she was parallel with him.

“I’d rather he didn’t,” sighed Hermione, tucking her legs underneath her and scrunching her nose in the way that made Fred’s stomach flip. He watched as his shirt hung on her frame, engulfing her upper half and the top part of her legs. If he didn’t know already that she was wearing shorts, he could have easily assumed she was in nothing but her knickers and his shirt. Merlin, he really needed to stop giving her his clothes if this was the direction his brain was going to go every time. He looked away, down at his hands that he’d moved to his lap, now laced together by the fingers.

“Why? Holding out for someone else?” It was more of a joke than a serious question really – a call back to her hesitancy to accept Viktor Krum’s invitation to the Yule ball. In fact when Fred said it, it was in such a sardonic tone that he never even considered that he might be hitting the nail directly on the head. Fred’s heart gave a sort of leap in his chest when she didn’t answer right away. He expected her to tell him off, or throw a pillow at his head, but instead there was silence.

Looking up he was surprised to see Hermione had gone slightly pale, mouth open and eyes wide in panic. “I—”

Before the girl could answer a tap at the window pulled their attention. Fred hopped off his bed and walked to the window where the same stately owl he’d seen a few days prior sat on the ledge. His stomach gave a strange pull as he realized who the owl was most likely for and from. He wasn’t prepared for the harsh wave of heat that washed over him when he opened the window. It felt like it had gotten at least five degrees hotter outside. How could it possibly be any hotter? Fred wondered, taking the letter from the owl, and closing the old window tightly as it flew off into the sun-hazed sky.

He held the letter addressed to himself in sweat-slicked hands. Glancing at Hermione who now looked curiously in his direction, Fred thought for a moment that he should perhaps open it later. That way he wouldn’t have any questioning looks, or expectant faces. On the other hand though, the curiosity was killing him. He had not written Angelina back since the last time she wrote. Truthfully, the letter didn’t feel like it warranted a response and of course he’d been quite busy with the troublesome distraction that currently sat in the room with him. He’d picked up a quill a few times since but staring at the blank page he felt at a loss for words. What should he write? All things currently of interest in his life felt quite shady and untoward and everything else felt inconsequential. Finally, he decided to just get it over with quickly.

The envelope only tore a little as he opened it carefully before sliding out a letter that was pleasantly longer than the last one he’d received from his girlfriend.

Dear Fred,

I finally got to reading the rest of your letters. I’m sorry to hear that your summer isn’t going as fun as you’d hoped. Where exactly are you anyways? From your letters it sounds like you’re in London. Why didn’t you tell me you had family there, you wanker? I would have made you visit them one of these past summers and we could have hung out. London has a lot of cool spots – wish I were there to show you around, but camp lasts all summer long. I guess the only upside to that, is I don’t have to listen to my mother whing on and on about my chores or my clothes or whatever else she’s decided to have a go at for the week.

Fred laughed lightly at the mention of Mrs. Johnson. Angelina had been in a tense war with her mother for the past two years. She swore up and down that her mother was unhappy with anything she did, no matter what. Fred could relate to that. The two of them often swapped stories about their mothers’ disapproval and the wild things they’d done to stir up trouble in their families. He remembered the amount of begging Angelina had had to do that past spring in order to convince her mother to let her go to the summer-long camp. Mrs. Johnson wasn’t too pleased with how athletically inclined Angelina was – convinced that her daughter should be a bit more proper. Secretly, Fred figured Mrs. Johnson finally relented to Angelina’s request just to have an end to the constant badgering.

Have you thought about taking the day off? You’re 17 now and you’ve got all those galleons from Harry (lucky bastard). Surely you and George could sneak off to Diagon Alley for the day or even muggle London! I can give you a list of places if you’d like.

Things are still busy here.

A large drop of smeared ink painted the parchment after the last sentence, as if she’d spent a long time contemplating on what to say next, allowing the ink to drop from her quill before messily attempting to clean it up.

Oliver’s been helping me a lot these past few weeks and it’s actually been pretty great! I know what you’re thinking, how can I possibly be surviving? Don’t get me wrong, he’s still obsessed with the game in that overly intense way, but he’s not nearly as bad as he was in school. Turns out when he’s not consumed by winning the house cup, he’s quite a cool bloke.

I’m making a lot of new friends as well! There are some guys from Ilvermorny here, the American school. They’re quite loud and brash – it reminds me of you.

Anyway, I should probably wrap this up. Oliver’s promised to show me and a couple other people some defensive techniques he’s learned from Puddlemere.

Best,

Angelina

P.S. – There’s something I need to tell you once we’re back at Hogwarts.

Fred was left with a sour taste in his mouth. What could Angelina possibly have to tell him that she couldn’t have written in a letter? And what was this whole business with Oliver being a ‘cool bloke’? Up until that point he’d only ever heard Angelina talk about how much she hated him. He was a crazy, obsessive, misogynistic pig – she’d said it at least a thousand times over. Especially in the times that Oliver disregarded the women on the team and referred to them all as ‘men’ or ‘guys’. And what about those guys from Ilvermorny? What were a bunch of Americans doing in England anyways? Didn’t they have quidditch camps in the states? Lastly, there was the fact that she’d signed it ‘best’ and not ‘yours’. It was a small thing, but she always wrote ‘yours’, even when they weren’t dating.

“Who’s it from?”

Hermione’s voice startled Fred. So immersed in the letter and his thoughts of Angelina and Oliver and guys from Ilvermorny, he’d completely forgotten she was still there.

Fred cleared his throat, “Angelina.”

“Is everything alright?” asked Hermione, furrowing her brow, and staring hard at the letter in his hand.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” Fred’s voice came out high and crackly, making him feel foolish and completely invalidating his statement that everything was alright.

“Well…it’s just that you’ve been frowning at that letter for about five minutes now and earlier—” she took a deep breath “—earlier you said something to George about Angelina. It sounded a bit like it was something unpleasant.”

“Oh…you caught that?” Hermione Granger had to be the most annoyingly astute witch he’d ever met.

Hermione nodded and stood from the bed, crossing the room to stand before him. She looked nervous, like she was using all her courage to say her next words, “Do you want to—”

“Hey!” The door to the room opened and Ginny and Ron came barrelling through. “The coast is clear. Mum’s got George cleaning out spiders in the basement,” said Ron, now fully clothed and looking a bit pink around the ears as he avoided looking directly at Hermione.

“I just know he’s going to lord that over my head,” sighed Ginny, leaning against the wall and crossing her legs at the ankle. “The whole thing was his idea anyways. Seems fair that he should take the brunt of the punishment.”

“You still haven’t dealt with the punishment you’ll be getting from me Ginevra,” bit Hermione, sending a disapproving look at the younger girl.

“Oh come on, Hermione. You know I only had the best intentions. S’not my fault George mucked it up and you had to see Fred’s bits as well,” said Ginny, pulling a face.

“I very much would have preferred to see no one’s bits.”

“Can you please stop calling them ‘bits’?” asked Ron, frowning. Fred had to agree with his little brother. There was something incredibly emasculating about the word.

“Men—” Ginny rolled her eyes “—such fragile egos. Come on, I think there’s some lemonade in the kitchen and I’m parched. It’s so bloody hot!”

Ginny pushed off the wall and sauntered out of the room followed closely by Ron. Hermione hesitated for a moment, looking up at Fred and then back down at the letter in his hand. Fred quickly folded the letter and shoved it in his pocket. It probably wasn’t the best moment to get into him and Angelina anyways.

“Come on, best not to keep them waiting,” he said and made his way out of the room and down towards the kitchen.

Fred didn’t see George again until dinner. His twin had emerged from the basement closet looking incredibly tired and slightly squeamish. This pleased Fred immensely as he still felt like George’s full punishment hadn’t been served. When everyone had sat themselves down at the long table for their meal, Fred made sure to put as much space between them and Hermione as possible. He needed to have a proper conversation with his brother about that afternoon. Thankfully, they had a few extra guests from the Order and so it was easy to do.

“So, you didn’t tell Ginny about me liking Hermione then?” Fred whispered as he piled potatoes onto his plate.

“Oh so now you’re ready to have a civil conversation?” asked George tiredly, taking the potatoes from him and serving himself as well.

“Oi, don’t get cheeky with me. You’re still the yob who started this.”

“You’re right, sorry—” George passed the bowl of potatoes to the wizard beside him who was currently in a deep conversation about transportation restrictions with their father “—no. I didn’t tell her. I thought she already knew but turns out she was talking about Ron. Classic case of miscommunication.”

Fred nodded. “Mmm, well that’s good at least. What were you thinking though mate? You couldn’t possibly think locking me in the bathroom with Hermione was a good idea.”

“I just thought it would be good to get you two alone together. You know, force you to actually have an open and honest conversation about how you feel,” mumbled George, cutting his ham into little pieces.

“And me being naked was supposed to aid in that?” Fred raised an eyebrow, reaching across the table and snagging a roll.

George looked down at his plate, suppressing a very pleased expression. “Thought it couldn’t hurt. You two looked very cosy this morning. Figured all you needed was a bit of provocation to get the subject flowing,” George admitted.

“You’re an idiot,” Fred whispered, laughing lightly, and shaking his head. While still quite displeased with his twin, he couldn’t dismiss the humour of the situation. “What makes you think Hermione and I don’t talk already?”

The question seemed to catch George off guard.

“What? You thought all those times we were working in our classroom and reading in the library, we were sitting there in silence?” Fred questioned hypothetically.

“Well, you certainly couldn’t have been saying anything of substance. Otherwise you’d both have finally admitted your feelings for each other.”

Fred let out a long breath. “Georgie, you know you’re my favourite person in the whole world—” Fred started.

“I’m touched, Freddie.” George brought a hand up to his heart.

“—some would say I even love you like a brother,” Fred went on.

“Not sure I could say the same, sorry.”

“But, at the end of the day I am in a relationship with Angelina. It wouldn’t be fair to her if I were to go behind her back with Hermione. And Hermione—”

“You can’t still tell me you think she likes Ron—”

“No. Actually she told me the exact opposite earlier this afternoon,” Fred confessed, trying not to focus on the way his heart lifted a little at the thought. “But it doesn’t mean she likes me either. Hermione is a nice girl. She deserves a hell of a lot better than me and even if she did like me, well like I said. That wouldn’t be fair to Angelina.”

“Is it fair to Angelina though for you to keep going out with her when you fancy someone else?” challenged George, bringing his voice to barely a whisper as they both leaned in to make their conversation more private.

“I… —” Fred struggled with the words “—it’s complicated. I still fancy Angelina too. It’s not like I’m dating her for nothing. She’s great. She’s one of my best friends, she’s tough, she’s fit, she loves quidditch, and we’ve known each other forever. I can’t just…I can’t just give that up because I also fancy someone else.”

“Do you fancy Angelina though?”

“What?”

“Do you actually fancy Angelina.”

“I just said I did, didn’t I?” Fred felt lost. What was George getting at?

“Yes, but you just listed things you like about her. Things most blokes like about her. Bloody hell, things I like about her – no offence. But, and correct me if I’m wrong, aren’t relationships supposed to be a bit deeper or some emotional crap like that? You know, something a bit more than just ‘we’re mates, and she lets me shag her’?”

“I…well on that logic then how do you know it’s not just the same thing with Hermione?”

“Are you shagging Hermione?” George asked, eyebrows raising high.

“No, but the idea doesn’t sound half bad. What if it’s more of a ‘we’re mates, and I want to shag her’ situation?” Fred took a large bite of his dinner roll and reached forward to grab his glass of pumpkin juice.

“Honestly, Freddie? That’s a bit out of my wheelhouse. But you should probably figure that out. Sooner rather than later,” said George lightly before taking a mouthful of stewed carrots.

Fred swallowed the bite of roll and scoffed into his glass. “Thanks for that. Great advice,” he said sarcastically before drinking deeply from his cup.

George grabbed his own glass and raised it lightly before answering, “Better advice than you get anywhere else. Cheers, mate.”

Dear Harry,

How’s your summer going? I hope your aunt and uncle aren’t being too horrible.

I really wish you were here. Maybe then Ron would have someone else to play chess with. You know how horrible I am at it…

I’m sure you’ve been reading the Daily Prophet and by now you’re aware of what they’re saying about you. I’m not really supposed to say anything but, I feel like you should

Dear Harry,

I hope your summer’s going better than mine. I know I haven’t said much in my last couple of letters but it’s only because I’m not allowed.

I really wish that I

Harry,

I know I’m not supposed to say anything, but I think that’s rubbish. I think you deserve to know that you’re not alone. Despite the lack of action from the ministry, I want you to know that there are people out there taking this seriously.

When you get here, you’ll understand.

Hermione crossed out her third attempt at writing Harry before crumpling the parchment and throwing it angrily in the bin beside her. This is impossible, she thought forlornly. She’d been having an internal battle for the past two weeks on whether she should follow Dumbledore’s instructions or go with her gut. Every fibre of her being wanted to tell Harry what was going on, to let him know that he wasn’t alone in this fight. But her foolish and incessant need to follow directions and stay out of trouble stopped her every time. Professor Dumbledore was a wise man. He was smart. Most importantly, he knew a lot more about what was going on than she did. So, it would make sense for her to keep her nose out of all of this and simply follow his lead. But despite her headmaster’s in-depth knowledge on most things, Hermione knew one thing to be true. He didn’t know Harry Potter nearly as well as she did.

Professor Dumbledore had insisted that they needn’t worry Harry on the comings and going of the Order and the efforts being put in place against a now fully risen dark lord. He needed time to heal from what happened the previous year with Cedric Diggory. That was all well and nice except that if you knew Harry at all, then you knew that he never stopped worrying. He was definitely the suffer in silence, woe is me, martyr type and usually the only thing that did stop him from worrying and obsessing was action. Harry Potter needed control, or he’d go insane. Usually this control came in two different forms. The first was distraction. If he couldn’t have direct control of a situation he’d resort to quidditch or flying or something else physical to take his mind off whatever it was. The second was involvement. Harry wouldn’t stop until he’d solved the mystery, and everything was put right in his mind. That’s why they hadn’t ceased their research first year until they figured out the secret to the philosopher’s stone. Or why their second year had ended in Harry fighting a basilisk underneath the school. Or why he’d declared to kill Sirius Black himself when he’d found out what he thought to be the truth of his parent’s deaths.

But Hermione knew that Harry, currently locked in the confines of his aunt and uncle’s muggle neighbourhood, was unable to do either and so she was certain the only thing he’d been doing the past month was stewing in internal misery. The fact that he’d neglected to respond to her and Ron’s letters thus far, not even their birthday wishes, only proved her theory right.

Dumbledore may be an expert on the innerworkings of the ministry, but Hermione was an expert on the innerworkings of Harry Potter. So, surely it would be best if she told him something. She had to be able to get some sort of message to him that wouldn’t reveal too much if intercepted by the ministry or Voldemort’s people. Just something that would quell the frustration that was surely rising in her best friend.

However, the right words simply were not coming to her yet, so she rested her quill back down on the table and corked her ink bottle firmly, before moving to her bed and sitting down huffily. She needed to focus on something else or before she knew it she’d turn into Harry.

Picking up the small ball of yarn and worn wooden knitting needles on her bed, Hermione started in on her practice. Recently she’d taken up knitting as both a hobby and a way to further her work with the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. This came entirely from an event that took place a week prior when she’d simultaneously met Kreacher and seen the horror that was the Black family’s legacy of house elves.

“What ARE those?!” Hermione screamed, jumping back, and toppling into Ron who had been following her into the fourth-floor study.

They had been tasked with cleaning out the old Black patriarch’s study.

“Bloody hell, Hermione. What?!” yelled Ron, catching her in his arms and putting her right on her feet.

But Hermione ignored his question, too overwhelmed by the sickening sight before her. On the wall, sitting above the bookshelves opposite the stately mahogany desk were the heads of house elves mounted to the wall. They hung stuffed, pale, and lifeless like common animals on display. It made her sick.

“Oh that is twisted,” said Ron, having now entered the room and seen what had made Hermione scream.

“I—why—who would do something like this?” Hermione asked, torn between her inability to stomach the sight of the house elves’ severed heads, and the sheer shock of it keeping her eyes glued to them.

“That would be my dear mother again, I’m afraid,” came Sirius’ voice. Hermione imagined he must have been nearby, most likely visiting Buckbeak in the attic, heard her scream, and came to investigate.

“This is disgusting…this is barbaric. How could anyone do something like this?” she asked, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes.

“You’d be surprised. It’s an old practice in pureblood families, not really done anymore, but at one time house elves saw it as a badge of honour to have themselves commemorated like this after they died—” Sirius strolled into the room, looking up at the mounted heads, hands casually in his pockets “—I never cared for it though. Absolutely refuse to do it for Kreacher when he finally croaks.”

“Kreacher?—” Hermione was finally able to pull her gaze away from the elves to look at Sirius “—you mean there’s a house elf here?”

“Course there is!” cried Sirius in surprise, tone laced with a bitter edge.

“Don’t worry Hermione. He doesn’t do any of the cooking or cleaning or anything like that,” interjected Ron in a reassuring manner that did very little to actually reassure her.

“How did I not know about this?” she asked, feeling overwhelmed and dazed.

“Well, my mum always said a good house elf was one that got the job done but was rarely seen. Can’t say that’s very true of Kreacher though. He clearly only holds up half of that statement. In fact—” Sirius, turned looking about the empty study around him “—Kreacher!”

With a pop, a small little house elf popped into existence before him. He was different than the house elves Hermione had seen before. He seemed older, more haggard, and dirty. His nose was long and droopy, and the cloth he wore for clothes was so dirty, it looked to be more filth than it was material. Kreacher sneered nastily up at his master and then around the room, spotting Ron and Hermione. Hermione didn’t think it was possible, but his expression turned even nastier once he saw them.

“Filthy mudblood, blood-traitors alike. Tarnishing my mistress’s house like this,” mumbled the little house elf and catching Hermione completely off guard. You’d think the words would hurt less after hearing them so much in the last four years, but they held a fresh sting every time. The only thing that had changed was her ability to better mask the hurt she felt.

“Give it a rest you vile little thing,” grimaced Sirius, surprising Hermione even more than Kreacher’s words.

Ever since she’d arrived at Grimmauld Place, she’d acknowledged that Sirius held a certain disdain to his childhood home. However, she had yet to experience the level of contempt the older wizard held for the house elf before him.

“Of course Master Black. Kreacher is sorry. What can Kreacher do for you?” responded Kreacher in a mocking tone. The words, while objectively respectful, held no trace of true respect whatsoever.

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” said Sirius sarcastically. “I need you to dispose of these disgusting relics immediately.” Sirius pointed up at the row of heads, looking as disgusted as Hermione still felt about both them, and the behaviour of the two individuals before her.

“No! Those are mistress’s! Kreacher refuses,” cried the old house elf in outrage.

“It was not a request, you disgusting beast. I am your master, and I am ordering you to take those vile things down and throw them away. Do you understand me?” spat Sirius, crossing his arms, and glaring down at Kreacher.

“Yes master Black. Of course.”

Hermione had been in such a shock after that that she had left the room and retreated to the kitchen. While she truly needed a cup of tea to calm her nerves, it was still too hot and so she’d allowed Ron to pour her a glass of pumpkin juice as she processed the event. Sure, the things Kreacher said were horrible and hurtful, but look at the way Sirius treated him! Maybe if Kreacher was met with a little kindness, he wouldn’t feel the need to be so mean. And the heads…she didn’t even know where to begin with the heads…

It was at that moment, that Hermione formulated a plan. The house elves clearly needed a way out, whether they knew it or not. So, that afternoon she’d gone to Mrs. Weasley to borrow knitting supplies and get a few lessons.

“Hey Hermione, have you seen Fred and George?” Ron’s voice from the doorway, brought Hermione’s attention away from the complicated mess of yarn in her hands. She’d gotten her knit and purl stitches confused and was currently trying to figure out which direction her yarn was supposed to be facing. Looks like she needed more practice.

“Why would I know where they are?” she asked, frowning back down at her work, and cursing under her breath. A few of her stitches had slipped off her needles.

Ron gave a short laugh, snorting through his nose. “Come on Hermione. You spend more time with them these days than anyone else.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t give me that ‘I’m helping them with their schoolwork’ excuse, Hermione. I’m not thick. You’re helping them with their inventions aren’t you,” said Ron, crossing the room and leaning against one of the posts of Ginny’s bed.

“Just a little,” Hermione admitted sheepishly. There was no point in lying to Ron about it now.

“I knew it!” Ron cried enthusiastically. “Are you also helping fund them? They seem to have a lot more money these days than not.”

“No, I’m not, but I’ve actually been wondering the same thing!” said Hermione with equal fervour. The last she’d heard, the two of them were still trying to get their money back from Ludo Bagman. Perhaps her suggestion of blackmail the previous year had finally worked. Though if it did, she didn’t want to know anything about it.

“Hmm, strange,” Ron commented, staring down at the heap of yarn in her hands in confusion. He was probably wondering what she could possibly be making, but thankfully he was kind enough to not make any comments. “You know helping those two is going to become a conflict of interest when you become a Prefect, right?”

“What makes you think I’m going to make Prefect?”

Ron snorted once again. “Come on Hermione, are you telling me you’ve thought there was any other alternative.”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. As much as she tried to keep a level of humility to her, she had to admit that the notion that any other Gryffindor girl in their year would be chosen for Prefect felt preposterous. This was something she’d been working towards since first year.

“I don’t help them that much. Mostly it’s just a bunch of reading their notes and telling them where their magic is wrong. Nothing wrong with that – it’s educational really,” she half lied.

“Oh yeah. Educational,” Ron snickered, pushing off from the bedpost and walking towards the door. “Well if you do see them, tell them mum’s looking for them.”

“Will do—” Hermione went to return to her knitting but stopped, looking up at his retreating figure “—wait, where are you off to then?”

Ron turned, leaning in the doorframe now. “Professor Lupin’s downstairs. I convinced him to teach me how to play chess.”

“But you already know how to play chess…” Hermione gave him a wry smile.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that. I’ve bet Sirius ten sickles I can go at least four games before he realizes I’m hustling him,” said Ron, a large grin spreading across his freckled face.

Hermione let out a small laugh and shook her head before saying, “I swear, you get more and more like Fred and George every day.”

“Those wankers? Absolutely not.”

And with that, Ron disappeared into the hallway, a little more pep in his step than usual. A smile remained plastered on Hermione’s face for long after Ron had left. She felt warm and content in the way only a cheerful and easy encounter with a friend could leave you feeling. Her and Ron had settled into an unspoken understanding after the mortifying bathroom encounter. Of course neither of them spoke of it, both choosing to act as though it had never happened. In a strange way, it was almost as if they needed the uncomfortable situation to become comfortable with each other again. Ron seemed less dopey and more relaxed around her, and as a result Ginny stopped talking about Ron’s feelings for her.

The same sentiment went for twins. It was as if the little bit of chaos was all the group needed to fall back once again into the comfortable friendships that had existed before. Hermione still felt her stomach flip and heartrate increase every time Fred entered a room or brushed past her too closely in the hallway, but she tried to ignore that as much as possible. That was her problem after all, not anyone else’s. And most of all she didn’t want to ruin her friendship with Fred over her stupid crush.

They had grown closer than ever over the past two weeks. Most likely due to their new tradition of late nights in the library of Grimmauld Place. When everyone had retired for the night, tucked in snuggly in their beds, Hermione and Fred would slip from their sheets and reconvene on the old couch of the library, till late in the night. They discussed Fred’s inventions, their interests, and their lives. It usually ended in some kind of debate, but Hermione always found herself laughing in the end. She’d never been able to talk so freely with anyone. It was both a blessing and a curse.

When her yarn had tangled for the fifth time, Hermione sighed and gave up. Instead, she opted to make her way down to the kitchen for a snack. Dinner was soon, but she’d missed tea that afternoon and was feeling too peckish to wait.

“Checkmate,” said Ron proudly as he stared smugly at the rumpled wizard sitting across from him at the kitchen table.

“Hi Professor,” Hermione greeted, eyeing a plate of Chelsea buns on the kitchen counter.

“Hello Hermione,” said Professor Lupin tiredly, his head balanced in his hands as he stared in bewilderment at the chess board in front of him. Sirius sat beside his old friend, snickering silently into his hand.

Hermione suppressed her negative emotions towards the suave, long-haired wizard. Seeing the way he treated Kreacher had left her less than pleased with him.

“You swear you’ve never played before?” Professor Lupin questioned Ron suspiciously.

Ron shook his head in mock innocence and Hermione had to turn away in hide her smile.

She grabbed a bun, taking a large bite out of it and sitting down at the table beside Ron to watch him square off with their old teacher again. The pair had gotten through exactly five and a half games before Professor Lupin had declared in frustration that there was no way Ron had never played wizard’s chess before.

Everyone in the room burst into laughter at that point, the twins and Ginny having wandered into the kitchen and joined in on the fun knowing full well that Ron was better at wizard’s chess than anyone they’d ever met. After that Professor Lupin refused to play anymore games, but Sirius and George stepped up to try and beat Ron in a combined effort.

Ron had just managed to corner their queen when Mr. Weasley came striding into the room with purpose.

“Hey dad!” Ginny greeted cheerfully. But her good humour melted away when her father ignored her greeting.

Arthur Weasley looked worried. Worried and frantic. Hermione had only ever seen that expression on his face once before – at the Quidditch World Cup.

“Remus, Sirius, emergency Order meeting now. Where’s Molly?”

“She’s upstairs I think, shall I go get her?” asked Sirius.

“No, I’ll go. Other members should be arriving soon, have them meet in the dining room.”

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George were all ushered out of the kitchen shortly after that. None of their pleas to stay or questions were acquiesced or answered of course. So instead, they opted to sit at the top of the stairs and gleam as much information as they could from the members that entered headquarters. Hermione assumed it must be serious. Ron told her that they had never had an emergency meeting like this before. This fact was only solidified in her mind when Dumbledore arrived looking quite grave, his long robes billowing behind him as he stormed down the entry hall and disappeared through the doorway to the dining room. Professor Snape was with him, a fact that caught Hermione by surprise.

“Professor Snape is in the Order?” she asked George sitting next to her.

He nodded and whispered back, “Unfortunately. The slimy git only comes around every once in a while. Always thought he’d be on the other side, but if Dumbledore trusts him, then he must know something we don’t.”

“It’s clear he knows a lot of things we don’t,” said Hermione, beginning to worry the inside of her bottom lip. It had to be Harry. Something this serious and this panicked always had to do with Harry.

That suspicion was confirmed a few hours later at dinner when Mr. Weasley told them that Harry had been accused of underage magic by the ministry earlier that night. Apparently, the ministry had tried to expel him outright, but Professor Dumbledore had insisted on a trial before they went to such extreme punishment. Hermione was more concerned as to why Harry needed to use magic at all than the thought of him being expelled. Apparently he had produced a patronus in front of a muggle. There was only one reason Harry would produce a patronus – dementors. Dementors in a muggle suburb? Now that was cause for concern on many levels.

Hermione ate very little at dinner, too consumed by the problem at hand. The ministry had complete control of the dementors. Only they could dispatch dementors away from Azkaban. Was this the Minister’s way of getting rid of Harry? To easily solve their problem of him? If this didn’t work, what else would they do? What lengths would they go to silence Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter?

A little voice in the back of her head proposed that perhaps Harry had gone looking for trouble that night. Or worked himself up so much that he imagined the dementors and tried to play the hero. Guiltily she thought of the half-finished unsent letters in the garbage bin in her room and wondered if this would have happened if she hadn’t been too meek to break the rules and give her best friend a glimmer of hope.

All these thoughts and questions stuck with her well into the night. Lying in bed, staring up at the darkness of the ceiling above, sleep evaded her worse than ever before. Sitting up, Hermione peaked over at Ginny’s snoring form in the bed beside hers and slipped from the covers. She padded silently out of the room, down the hall, and down the stairs to the library. While the days events had been out of the ordinary, Hermione hoped that her and Fred’s tradition would remain, and she would find him in the library. The urge to talk to him itched at the back of her head fervently.

However, when she got to library, she found the door cracked and the whispered voices of Professor Lupin and Sirius drifted out. Hermione held her breath, turning away from the door and tiptoeing back towards the stairs. She didn’t need to listen in on their conversation to know they were most like talking about Harry. Once back on the third floor, Hermione found herself at a standstill. She should go back to bed. It was no use wandering the dark and grim house at night when she was already out of sorts. However, instead of making her way to her own bed, Hermione found herself walking not to her door, but Fred and George’s. Like an invisible pull at her centre, she gravitated towards it like a planet in orbit.

Not bothering to knock considering the late hour, Hermione quietly opened the door and slipped inside. She walked silently to Fred’s bed and found him sound asleep. She’d never seen him asleep before – up until that point she didn’t think she could be any more handsome than he already was, but up until that point she’d never seen him blissfully gone to the world.

As if sensing her presence, his eyes opened, blinking slowly as he took in her presence.

“’Mione? I thought you’d gone to bed. Went looking for you earlier but Black and Lupin were in the library,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly.

“I can’t sleep…”

They stared at each other in the dark for what felt like ages. It was as if they were experiencing group thought, both of them teetering on the edge of a decision they were both unsure of. Hermione should go back to her own room. She shouldn’t be sneaking into the room of a boy who had a girlfriend. She should be—

“Get in,” Fred whispered, lifting the covers, and pushing them both of the edge.

Hermione didn’t need to be told twice. She slipped into the covers, burying herself deeply into their warmth. It had been a heatwave for the past two weeks, but the house felt colder that night than it ever had.

“Merlin, your feet are freezing,” Fred whispered when Hermione’s feet accidentally brushed his own.

Hermione moved them away quickly. “Sorry,” she whispered back in embarrassment.

Fred surprised her by reaching down and hook his hand around the back of her leg and pulling her feet flush with his own. “Give ‘em here,” he grumbled before releasing her leg and settling back into the mattress with a deep sigh.

Hermione smiled into the darkness and rolled over onto her side. She kept a safe distance of propriety between them, making sure the only thing touching was their feet. Her head fell heavy on the pillow and for the first time that night she was able to relax.

“Fred?” she whispered tentatively.

“What?” came the soft sound of Fred’s voice back.

“Thank you.”

Fred didn’t answer, instead he shifted, and Hermione felt his hand fall atop hers, gripping it tightly. It took barely minutes for Hermione to fall asleep to the firm and grounding feel of Fred’s thumb rubbing the delicate skin on the back of her hand.

Chapter 18>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

#fremione #fred x hermione #harry potter #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #fred weasley #hermione granger

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atlafan · 5 years ago

Text

Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, and angst. Long part, whoops!

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

The next morning, you get up at 4:30 to take Buster out. You wanted him to get used to you taking him out in the morning. He was still asleep when you picked him up out of his crate. You take him down to the street, and walk him a bit. Once he’s tired out you bring him back up. You get his breakfast and some fresh water ready. He plops on the floor and watches you do a quick home work out. He thinks you want to play when you start jumping up and down. Eventually you decide to just play with him on the ground and toss a tennis ball for him to play fetch with. He was so smart already.

Harry eventually wakes up and comes out just wearing his boxers. Buster trots over to him and you smile as he crouches to pet him.

“Hey little guy, how’d yeh sleep?” The dog yips at him and Harry laughs. “Oh good, mummy and I were worried.” He looks at you. “Take him out and all that?”

“Mhm, he took the cutest little poop.” You giggle. “Fed him too. I’ll probably have to take him out again soon.”

“I’ll take him, or we could take him together.”

“Yeah!” You look at your watch. “Oh! Niall will be leaving for work soon, let me text him to wait down at the street. It’ll be good to start socializing him.” Harry nods and goes to get dressed. “You look so cute in your painting pants.” You kiss his cheek and put the leash on Buster.

Niall crosses the street and picks Buster up immediately.

“Can yeh believe it? I’m an uncle!”

“Wait, let me take your picture with him.”

“The ones you posted yesterday were so cute. Your eyes were all red and puffy.” He laughs.

“She cried like a baby at Adam’s barn.” Harry explains.

“Surprised it wasn’t you.”

“Me too.”

“You can come play with him after work if you want. Sarah can come too of course.”

“Yeah, I’ll see what’s doin’. She’s getting’ stressed from end of year stuff. I didn’t know a third grade class could be so crazy.”

“Well she doesn’t exactly teach at the easiest school.” You say.

“No kiddin’.” He puts the dob back on the ground. “Well, I’ll see you all later. Hey, you should put him in the zoom chat later today. I’m sure everyone would love to see a puppy.”

“Will do! Have a good day.” You smile. You and Harry head down the street so Buster can pee again.

“He gets tired so easily.” Harry says, cradling him to his shoulder as he carries him back up.

“He’s still a baby. Baby’s get tired.”

“Will you bring him by around lunch time?”

“Of course! Would you like that Buster?” You say as you take him back from Harry. “Would you like to visit daddy later?” Harry’s face lit up, and you scrunch your face at him. “Don’t get too excited, I’m not bringing that word into the bedroom.”

“Don’t wantcha to.” He kisses your forehead. “I gotta go, love you.”

“Love you too, have a good day. Wave bye bye to daddy Buster.” You take his paw and move it back and forth. Harry takes his phone out and takes a picture of you. You stick your tongue out at him and he takes another picture. “Oh would you just leave already?!”

“Sorry, you’re just too cute.” He blows you a kiss and leaves.

You do your work up in the loft. Buster stays in your lap for most of the day. You take him for a good walk once mid morning hits, and you show him to everyone in your zoom meeting. Once it’s a little before noon you get him in the car and head to the studio.

Harry was upstairs in his office painting when he hears you come in. He comes right down and Buster runs to him. He picks up and swings him around (gently). Buster licks his cheek and he chuckles.

“I could certainly get used to this.”

“Wanna go for a walk, it’s beautiful out.”

“Sure!” Harry grabs his keys and locks up. He holds onto the leash as Buster walks. “How’s your day with him been?”

“Really easy. He’s been sitting on my lap while I’ve been working. He only peed on the floor once, and that was in the kitchen. I took him right out after it happened. Other than that he’s been going when I take him out. He’s a baby, so he’ll have accidents.” You shrug.

“I can’t wait to be able to just bring him with me to the studio once it’s up and runnin’.”

“My supervisor said I could bring him to work with me until you’re able to start bringing him.”

“Oh that’s great! They won’t mind?”

“He barely makes a peep, plus it’ll help socialize him.”

“Right.”

“I was thinking too, we could keep his hair on the shorter side. I don’t like floppy looking dogs.”

“My hair’s floppy and yeh like me just fine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think Buster would like using a scrunchie to keep the hair out of his face like you currently are.”

“You’re just mad because I keep stealin’ yours.”

“I’m just going to buy you your own package.”

“The more the merrier.” He flashes you his shit eating grin and you nudge him.

Over the next couple of weeks, you and Harry take the time to train Buster. He has a few accidents, but nothing serious. He’s good about sleeping in his crate, and he’s been wonderful to bring to work with you. Harry keeps making progress on the studio. The furniture has been delivered and its’ starting to look like a real place. Mariah and Isaac both put their two weeks in, and start coming in to help Harry with the equipment.

“So I’ve been thinking, we should have a grand opening for your studio.” You say over dinner one night. “We could make a big social media event out of it. I think it would be nice for people to walk around and see everything. We could put some large prints up on the walls, and then get some booklets made. Isaac could book appointments on the spot.”

“I love the way your mind works, I think that’s a great idea.”

“Yay! So what I’ll do is put an event on the Facebook page, and then we can share it everywhere. I was thinking the beginning of June.”

“Sounds good to me. Thanks again for all your help. I feel like I get notifications every day asking when it’ll be up and running.”

“It’s been so much to-“ The dog yips at you. “What is it baby? Need to go out?” He yips again. “Okay, mumma take you out.” You get up from the table. “Mind cleaning up for me?”

“Sure.”

You put the leash on Buster and take him out to pee. He really needed to go.

“Good boy, Buster!” Harry hears as you come back inside about ten minutes later. “He needed to poop too.” You take the leash off and he rushes over to Harry.

“Good boy! Want daddy to get you a treat?” Buster yips at him. “Alright.” He goes into the kitchen and gets a dog cookie. “Now, yeh gotta sit, Buster. Sit.” Harry makes a motion with his hand, and the dog does so. “Good, down.” Buster lays on the floor. “Up.” He sits back up. “Good boy!” He gives Buster the street and scratches his head.

“I can’t believe how much bigger he’s already gotten in just a few weeks.”

“I know. His coloring is really startin’ to come in too.” You start tearing up, and Harry looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s just growing up so fast.” You sniffle. “He’ll be huge before we know it.”

“He’s only gonna be like twenty-five pounds. He’s one of the smaller ones, remember?” He holds you close to his chest.

“He’s just my precious baby and I want him to stay that way.” You say against him. Buster walks over to you both and looks up at you, wagging his tail. “C’mere my doll.” Harry closes his eyes to kiss you, but you’re bending down to pick Buster up. “God, pretty soon he’ll be too big to pick up, Harry.” You sniffle again and snuggle your face into Buster’s hair. “Let’s go snuggle on the sofa.” Harry stands there and watches you walk away. You look back at him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Sorry, I honestly couldn’t tell if you were talkin’ t’me or the dog.” He walks over and sits down with you. Buster plops into his lap. “You call us the same names.”

“Aww, Buster, I think daddy’s jealous of how much attention I give you.” You scratch the top of Buster’s head and his tail wags.

“M’not jealous. You could just be more clear of who you’re talkin’ to. Like, could you leave doll for me?” You chuckle and shake your head.

“Sure, I’ll leave doll for you.”

“S’all I ask.” He turns the TV on, and he throws an arm around you. “Hey, babe?” You hum your response. “I left my laptop upstairs and I need it for a second, do yeh mind grabbin’ it? I’d get up, but I’m afraid he’s snoozin’.”

“Sure.” You get up and Harry watches you go up the spiral staircase. There was a box on top of his laptop. You furrow your eyebrows when you see it has your name on it. You open it up and he hears you gasp from upstairs. You come running down. “What’s this?!” You say holding a watch in your hand.

“Happy nine months, love.” You come over and give Harry a big kiss.

“Thank you sweetie, you didn’t have to get me anything. I feel like shit, I didn’t get you anything.”

“You give me somethin’ every day.” You put it on and sit back down.

“What’s that?”

“A life that I love so much.”

“Put the dog in the crate.” You say, giving him your bedroom eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He salutes you and carries the dog to the crate. You smack his butt while you race by him. “Oi! None of that tonight.” You turn to look at him and pout. “Okay…maybe some of that.” He chases you into he room and you squeal.

“Kyle, I’m gonna be super busy this weekend. I’m getting things together for the house warming in a couple weeks, and I’m planning Harry’s grand opening.”

“Please! Mum had to back out and we’re desperate. We’ll bring over everything you need. Lily doesn’t want him with Bridget or Erica, she really only trusts you.”

“Bridget is a fucking nanny what do you mean?!”

“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, Lily just feels more comfortable leaving him with you. I know you just got the dog and everything, but we haven’t had a weekend away in a really long time, please.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me three days before…ugh fine. We’ll watch him this weekend. But you’re picking up and dropping off.”

“Thank you! We owe you big time.”

“Yes, you do.”

You sigh and hang up the phone. You turn around to Buster who’s laying in his dog bed in your office.

“Well Buster, you’re gonna have a visit from your cousin Michael this weekend.” The dog yips and you giggle. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.” Niall comes to your office.

“Ready to take him for a walk?”

“Sure thing Uncle Niall.” You both laugh, and put the leash on Buster.

“He’s like our little office dog now.”

“I know, everyone’s been so nice about having him around.”

“He’s so well behaved, how could we not like havin’ him.” You get down to the street and he trots along a pace a head of you, looking back occasionally to make sure you’re there. “Quite the mumma’s boy, huh?”

“He takes after his father.” You say with a smirk and Niall bursts out laughing.

“Monkey see, monkey do, I suppose.” He smiles at you still laughing.

“Get this, I have to babysit my nephew all weekend.”

“You seem annoyed by that.”

“Normally I’d be over the moon, but I’m planning two parties, and we’re still training Buster. I’ve got my own baby now.”

“Well, now you’ve got two.” He nudges you. “He gettin’ jealous at all?”

“Of what?”

“How much attention you’re givin’ the dog over him.”

“Not jealous…more like a slight annoyance. But it’s cute.”

Harry gets home from the studio exhausted. Him and Mariah were hanging things on the walls all day while Isaac dictated where everything should be.

“I’m home!” He yells when he doesn’t see you. “Where the fu-“

“Good boy Buster!” You giggle as you come in through the door. “Oh hey, did you just get in?” You ask, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah, didn’t know where yeh were for a second.”

“Baby needed to do his business.”

Buster sniffs at Harry’s feet and looks up at him with his tongue hangin’ out.

“Hey buddy, missed yeh today.” He looks at you. “Thought you might’ve brought him by…”

“Too busy today. Niall and I took him out for a quick walk at lunch, but that was it.” You take the leash off Buster and he follows you around. “Dinner’s wrapped up in the kitchen for you.”

“Thanks.” Harry scarfs down his food and joins you and the dog on the sofa.

“So get this.”

“What?”

“We’re babysitting Michael this weekend, like overnight.” Harry blinks at you. “Shit, I thought you’d be more excited.”

“I have two weddings on Saturday, I’ll be gone all day, and most of the evening.” He runs a hand through his hair. “When are they bringin’ him?”

“Friday night…”

“Two nights? Well, at least I can help a bit Friday. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You were slightly annoyed, but there was nothing you could do.

Friday night Kyle and Lily bring Michael over with everything he’ll need.

“I just ask that he sleeps in the room with the two of you. He’ll sleep comfortably in his pack and play, but I don’t want him to get scared if he wakes up and doesn’t know where he is.” Lily explains.

“Sure, we can do that.” You smile and she helps you set up the pack and play in the bedroom.

“How’s the pup treating you guys?” Kyle asks Harry.

“Oh, he’s been great. We got lucky with an easy one.” Buster was on the floor sniffing away at Michael who was in his bouncy loving the way Buster’s hair felt on his skin.

“Okay, all set up.” Lily says.

“All the food for him is in the fridge. He’s usually good, but he’ll cry the second he’s hungry. Make him wait a few minutes though. He needs to know he can’t get what he wants the second he wants it.”

“Kyle…I’ve watched him before, I know what to do.” You laugh.

“Okay, okay. Thank you both again.”

You say goodbye to them and looks over at the two babies on the floor.

“So…he’s really sleepin’ in the room with us?”

“Yeah, Buster’s gonna be pissed.” You pat his head and then take Michael out of the bouncy. “It’s almost your bed time, dude.” You give him a little raspberry on his cheek and he giggles. You cradle him to your chest and rock him back and forth. Harry watches you lovingly. “Don’t even look at me.” He starts laughing.

“Why?”

“A dog is plenty right now.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“Shhh! He’s starting to doze off. It’s easier to get him into the pack and play if he’s already asleep.” You press your lips to his head. “Can you take Buster out while I put him down, he’s out.”

“Yeah.”

When Harry comes back he finds you leaning over the pack and play stroking at Michael’s head, lulling him to sleep. Harry stands in the doorway with Buster at his side.

“Stay.” He says quietly to him as he walks in. He smiles at you and you gesture to leave the room. You grab the baby monitor and close the door.

“Did he go?”

“Yup, took a massive dump for his daddy.”

“Don’t be gross.”

“You tell me about his shit all the time, why can’t I?”

“Because you say things like massive dump.” You make a disgusted face. Buster lays at your feet as you sit on the sofa.

“Wanna have a shag out here?”

“Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Well, we can’t in there with Michael sleepin’. Surely you couldn’t keep quiet enough.” He smirks.

“I’m not fucking you out here.”

“How about in the kitchen then?”

“No.” His face falls into a pout. “Three babies. I have three babies in the house this weekend.” You sigh and rub your temples.

“S’not very nice. M’gonna be gone all day tomorrow.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you mad?”

“No.”

“Really, because yeh seem mad.”

“I’m gonna get mad in like two seconds if you don’t stop.” You grab the remote and turn the TV on. Harry stays quiet while you both watch TV. Eventually you lean your head on his shoulder and he throws an arm around you. Buster sits on both of your laps and you mindlessly pet him.

“I gotta go to bed.” Harry says around nine. “I have to be up really early.”

“Okay, I’ll join you.” You yawn. “I’m tired too actually.” You look at Buster. “Time for bed baby.”

Buster goes right for his dog bed and plops down. You and Harry quietly do your things and get into bed. He spoons you for most of the night. Luckily Michael was at a point where he was sleeping through the night. He woke up around when Harry did. You groan when you hear him cry.

“I’ll take care of it, and then I’ll put him in the bed with you.” He whispers.

“He needs to be changed and fed.”

“I’ve got it.”

Harry grabs a fresh diaper and everything else and brings Michael into the guest room.

“Oh good, you took a massive dump too.” He sighs, but takes care of it. Michael giggles when he’s all cleaned up. “Yeah, yeah, Uncle Harry’s real sweet to you, huh?” He carries him into the kitchen to get him a bubby and he feeds him.

Harry waits for Michael to burp up before changing him into some fresh pj’s, and he brings him to the bed with you.

“Auntie?” You groan your response. “Michael’s here.” You mindlessly reach out for him and Harry lays him on your chest. He smiles as he watches you cradle him to your chest.

“Do you have time to take care of Buster?”

“Uhhh, yeah I can do that.”

Harry rushes around taking Buster outside and getting him fed. He’s a little less quiet while he gets his suit on. He kisses you before he leaves, and out the door he goes. An hour or so later you hear Buster whimpering from the other side of the door. You carry Michael on your hip and open the door.

“Need to go out again baby?” The dog yips and you sigh. You slide a pair of sneakers on and go out the door in your pj’s. “Shit, how am I supposed to shower?” You look at Michael as if he would have the answer. “I could stick you in a laundry basket I suppose. Would it be weird to take you in with me?”

It’s not like Michael would remember seeing you naked, but you still felt weird about it. You pick up the phone and call the person you knew you could.

“Be over in a few minutes.”

“Are you sure? Sarah’s not with you?”

“No, her and Rachel wanted to have a roomie night last night. I’m actually free today.”

“Great!”

Niall comes over and you open the door for him.

“Thank you so much, I’m desperate for a shower. I just changed Michael and he’s had a new bubby so he shouldn’t be hungry. Buster’s just been out too.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Go take your shower, and relax”

“Thanks.” You sneeze loudly.

“Bless you.” He laughs.

“Thanks.” You sniffle.

“Feelin’ okay?”

“Honestly, no. I have a headache and my ears hurt. I think I’m getting my seasonal sinus infection.” You groan.

“Take a very long shower then, clear all that shit out.”

“Thank you, you’re a lifer saver.”

Niall takes Michael and sits on the sofa with him. Buster sits on the on cushion next to him. You get into the shower and stand under the warm water for a while, getting all your hair wet. You blow your nose as much as can, but you’re super congested. You get out of the shower, eventually, and brush your hair out, leaving it wet, something you rarely did. You put on Harry’s grey joggers and one of his over-sized sweatshirts. Actually, it looked normal on him, it was just over-sized on you. You throw on some fuzzy socks, and head out to the living room.

“Uh oh, wet hair, that’s not a good sign.”

“I don’t have the energy to dry it.”

“You sound even worse.” He frowns. “Are you sure it’s not a cold?”

“I know it’s not. It’s the beginning of a sinus infection, I can feel it.” You plop down and Buster moves to your lap. “You can put Michael in his bouncy you know? It’s pretty cute.”

Niall drags it over and puts him in. You both watch as he entertains himself.

“Thanks for helping out. Harry has two weddings today. I don’t know how I’m supposed to watch the both of them by myself now that I don’t feel good. But I guess people do it all the time.”

“Y/N, I told you I don’t have plans today, I can hang out and help.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s a nice day out.”

“When was the last time you and I just spent a day together? Besides, you need someone to help take care of you.”

“Do you wanna binge Stranger Things from the beginning?”

“God, yes.” You both giggle and he fires up the TV. “I’m gonna make yeh some tea.”

“Thank you.” You grab his hand and squeeze it. You smile at each other and then he goes into the kitchen.

You and Niall have a great day together. He helps you with Michael and Buster so you can rest. Your head was killing you, even after having taken some Tylenol. You both also enjoy your binge of your favorite show. Harry texts to check in a couple times, but you forget to answer.

“I’m gonna go put Michael down, could you take Buster out?”

“Yup, got a spare key f’me?”

“Mhm, in the bowl by the door.” He nods and you both go to complete your tasks. “He’s so good, falls right asleep.”

“Do yeh think your brother and Lily went to go make another?” He says with a cheeky grin.

“God, I don’t even want to think about that.” You laugh and pat Buster’s tummy as he lays at your feet.

You end up putting a pillow in Niall’s lap so you can lay down. He keeps a hand on your head and plays with your frizzy hair. There were only so many people in the world that you let see you like this. It had been so long since you and Niall had a proper cuddle, you missed it so much. You eventually drift off, but he doesn’t mind. It was a long day, and he was enjoying the continued binge of the show.

Harry walks in around 8:30PM. He was exhausted and already starting to take his clothes off. He stops short when he sees Niall, who has a finger pressed to his lips to signal to be quiet. Harry looks at him extremely confused.

“She’s not feelin’ well.” He whispers. Harry walks around to the sofa and doesn’t like what he sees. Niall’s hand in your hair and your face nestled into his stomach.

“What do you mean she’s not feelin’ well? Why didn’t either of you call me? She didn’t text me back all day.”

“What would callin’ yeh do? You were workin’.” He sighs. “She called me cause she needed a shower, and I didn’t have plans. When I got here she didn’t look great, and she got worse as the day went on so I stayed to help. Baby’s sleepin’, dog went to his bed on his own. Think she’s got a sinus infection. She gets a really bad one this time of year, she was due.”

“Right, well, I’ll take her to bed now…thanks.”

“You could be less of a prick you know?”

“I’m not!” He hushes himself. “I’m not bein’ a prick.”

“Yeah, ya are.”

“Look at her, she’s all cozied up to you.” He gestures.

“News flash, mate, not the first time her head’s been in my lap.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh my god, you’re impossible. What are you, cranky? Get her off of me if you’re so bent outta shape.”

Harry huffs and gets his arms under you. You cling to Niall’s shirt at first and then you loosen your grip. Harry cradles you to his chest and you whimper.

“Shh, just me, baby girl.” He coos. You barely wake up. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.” Niall nods as Harry carries you to bed. You groan as he tucks you in. He kisses your forehead and goes back out to Niall. “Alright, set this scene for me, will you?”

“She needed to take a shower, so she called me. She said she didn’t feel comfortable being naked in the shower with Michael. She came out lookin’ worse than she did, so I helped her out. She napped when the baby did so I took the dog out a few times. I helped her feed both of ‘em. She cuddled Michael for a bit while we watched TV and then she put him to bed.”

“And then her head ended up in your lap?”

“There was a pillow there. We’ve done it plenty of times, not recently, obviously. I’ve taken care of her plenty of times while she’s been sick, and she’s done the same for me. We’re comfortable with each other. I’ve been her friend for almost three years, Harry. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I should’ve been home with her today, not you.”

“You had to work.”

“I just don’t like that you’re her go to for every little thing.”

“You know, if Sarah had been here too you wouldn’t even have an issue.” He crosses his arms.

“Where is she anyways?”

“Roomie weekend. Her and Rach haven’t been spendin’ a lot of time together lately. We texted all day believe it or not.”

“And Y/N couldn’t text me back?”

“She was drowsy all day, and she had a terrible headache. If you hadn’t noticed all the lights are off.”

“I noticed.”

“You can be a grouch all you want, but I was a good friend today, to both of you. You could say thank you.”

“Thanks for cuddling with my girlfriend, mate, that’s a big help.” Niall pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I really can’t fuckin’ stand you sometimes. You’re jealous for no reason.”

“It’s hard to be pissed when I walk in and see the love of my life curled up with you!”

“Her head was in my lap! It’s not like my dick was pressed to her ass and we were spoonin’!”

“You might as well have been!”

“You two woke the baby up.” They both whip their heads to look at you.

When Harry put you to bed you had woken up and changed into just a t-shirt, you were sweating from the heavy clothes. Michael started crying right when you had fallen back asleep. You got him back to sleep, but you were pissed.

“Y/N, go put some clo-“

“Niall, thank you for all your help today, may I speak with Harry privately?”

“Yeah, lemme know how you’re feelin’ tomorrow, alright?”

“Mhm.”

He grabs his things and heads out. You glare at Harry. You weren’t sure where to start, so you don’t. You didn’t want to wake Michael up again, and you didn’t want Buster getting riled up.

“I’m going back to bed, please sleep on the sofa.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t feel well, and I’m so far beyond aggravated. I don’t want you near me right now.”

“I’m sleeping on our-“

“If you don’t want to sleep on the sofa then sleep in the guest room. I don’t really care where you sleep, just as long as it’s not with me. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” You turn on your heel and get back into bed.

Harry stood there and groaned. All he thought about all day was coming home to you. Now he was forced to sleep in his old bed, alone. The next morning you’re feeling a little better, but still congested. You knew you’d have to go to urgent care at some point for some antibiotics.

You get Michael out of the pack and play, and lay him on the bed to change him.

“There’s a happy boy.” You smile while he giggles.

Harry was just coming in with Buster when you come out with Michael.

“He’s, uh, fed…”

“Thank you.”

“When will Kyle and Lily be here?”

“Soon.”

“Okay.”

Harry leaves you alone until your brother comes to pick him up.

“How was he?”

“Perfect, as usual. I have a little cold, but I’m not contagious. Sinus thing I think.”

“Alright, we’ll keep an eye on him. Thanks again!”

They pack everything up and head out. You cross your arms and look at Harry. He looks at you.

“I don’t feel like I’m wrong.” He starts.

“No? Okay, present your case to me then.”

“You didn’t text me back all day, if I had known you didn’t feel well, I would’ve come home.”

“And leave those poor people without wedding photos?”

“I have a backup, I’m not an idiot.” He sighs. “No, instead you call your other boyfriend, sorry, your husband, to come over and help you.” You burst out laughing, you can’t help it, you were so angry. “This is funny?”

“It’s hilarious! Do you even listen to yourself? Who the fuck else was I going to call? Rachel or Sarah? Niall’s right across the street, he was here in two seconds.” You scoff. “Also, Rachel and Sarah are terrible with children, absolutely terrible. I wouldn’t trust either one of them with Michael. Niall, however, has been around Michael since he was born. I told him he could leave after I showered, but he insisted he stay to help. And I’m glad I let him because I didn’t feel well, I still don’t.”

“I’m sorry about that, but-“

“And then what do you do?” You ask, cutting him off. “You come home, already in a bad mood because you were probably tired, and instead of being grateful that your best friend came to help your sick your girlfriend take care of your nephew and puppy, you blew up at him! I don’t care if you don’t apologize to me, but you certainly owe Niall one.”

“My nephew?” His face softens.

“Harry for the love of god!” You feel like you want to rip your hair out. “Yes! Your nephew! He’s my nephew, he’s yours, he’s ours! You’re his fucking uncle now, don’t you think?!” Harry can’t help but smile. “Stop fucking smiling! I’m so mad at you! You get so jealous and worked up for no reason!��

“No reason! Y/N, your head was in his lap, you had your arms wrapped around him, and you face was pressed into his stomach! Totally comfortable!”

“You’re damn right I was comfortable! Niall and I used to cuddle all the fucking time!” His jaw drops. “That’s right. Never like spooning or anything, but that’s typically how we’d lay. We’ve taken care of each other a lot when the other’s been sick, and that’s usually what happens. And it’s not like my head was against his crotch, there was a fucking pillow there. Grow up, Harry.”

“Grow up? Grow up?!”

“Yeah! I am so sick of having this same fight with you! This is the last time I’m going to say this, I do not now, nor have I ever wanted to fuck Niall. He has not now, nor ever wanted to fuck with me. I do not plan on risking our entire fucking relationship to fuck your best friend.” He opens his mouth to speak and then stops himself. “Have I made myself clear?” He nods yes. “Good, because I swear to god if we fight about this again, I’m done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I mean I’m done. This is the stupidest fucking fight, and we’ve had it several times. I don’t appreciate you not trusting me, and I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate you not trusting him. So, if you find this to be worth risking our relationship over then you can just-“

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right, this is a stupid fight, and it’s not worth risking our relationship over.”

“So how do we move forward? I mean, clearly you have this like jealousy thing…I need to be able to interact with him the way that I do. I need to be able to laugh and whatever with him without worrying if it’s going to set you off.”

“I don’t know, honestly. I can’t help that I feel…ugh, how do I explain this? Um, remember when Julia made a pass at me?”

“Which time?” You scoff.

“When you walked in…and you said you didn’t anyone to think they could touch me like that. I feel the same way with you.”

“But Harry…Niall’s not into me like that. It’s platonic. I was also asleep, I didn’t know I had curled into him like that.”

“He was like playin’ with your hair and stuff.”

“And?”

“That’s super intimate!”

“It’s platonic! He was comforting me. I’ve played with his hair before too. We’re both touchy people, it’s how we show affection. I’m very affectionate with all my friends.”

“So you’re basically tellin’ me I just need to be cool with it.”

“No…but I don’t want you to think a touch or a smile means anything more than friendship between us. I mean, how many times do I need to remind you that I knew him before you? I have a whole history with him Harry.”

“I just didn’t think you two were that close because he never brought you out or around.”

“A lot of that was on me. He’d invite me to a lot of things, but I usually had plans with the girls, or I didn’t feel like going to a party where I’d only know him. He and I got into just hanging out one on one, and that worked for us.”

“And there was really never any moment between the two of you where you felt like you wanted to take it a step further?”

“Never, and I know he feels that way too. We’re just close.” You start sniffling as tears prick at your eyes. “You make me feel so guilty sometimes for loving him…and it’s not fair.”

“Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t help it.” You wipe your eyes. “I’m allowed to have friends, male friends.” You cry harder and Buster comes over to you. “When I was in high school, and even in college I had a lot of guy friends. And time and time again they would tell me they couldn’t be my friend anymore because their girlfriends didn’t trust me. I’m a very nice person, and I would never put someone in that position. I don’t know what’s so non-trusting about me, but it makes me feel like shit that my own boyfriend doesn’t even trust me.” He crosses the room and takes you in his arms.

“I do trust you.”

“Then it’s him you don’t trust.”

“I’ve known Niall a lot longer than you. He’s…a great guy, but I’ve I know what he’s capable of.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It was years ago, so it doesn’t matter. People change.”

“Harry.”

“There was a girl he dated in grad school and he cheated on her. She found out and broke up with him, obviously. I was no saint myself, but I knew I didn’t wanna be with one person. He shouldn’t have gotten into a relationship in the first place.”

“You can’t blame your own issues on something he did years ago.”

“I know.”

“So then why do you have these issues?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like you’re my girlfriend so you should come to me.”

“You were working!” You push him away.

“But if you had called me, then I could have told you to call him. At least I would’ve been in the know. You didn’t text me back all day. I walked in completely blindsided!”

“So I need to ask daddy permission in order to have my friends over, is that it?”

“Don’t be such a brat, that’s not what I meant.”

“Would you like to sleep in the guest room again tonight? Is that what you want?”

“Why, because I called you a brat?”

“No, because you’re acting like an asshole still.”

“Okay.” He nods.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’m actin’ like an asshole, you’re not wrong.”

“You know what?! I’m going to take the dog for a walk, a long walk. I suggest you go fix things with Niall. He’s pretty pissed.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve been texting him all day. Wanna check my phone to make sure we haven’t been sexting or sending dirty pictures?” You put the leash on Buster and slip your sneakers on.

Harry takes a few deep breaths before going across the street. He keys right into Niall’s apartment. Him and Sarah were cuddled up on the couch.

“Jesus, Harry.” He says. “Glad we weren’t naked.”

“Sarah can I speak with Niall privately?”

“Whatever you have to say to him you can say in front of me.” She crosses her arms and Niall smirks.

“Great, so you’re mad at me too?”

“Harry, listen, I felt the same way you did months ago, remember? Y/N and Niall have a very special bond. There’s no need to be jealous or threatened.”

“I’m not threatened.”

“Then what’s your problem?” Harry’s jaw tenses.

“Babe, maybe you should go hang in my room for a bit.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, he and I need to talk one on one.”

“Alright, but if I hear yelling I’m coming out.” She gets up and goes into Niall’s bedroom. Niall gestures for Harry to sit and he does.

“I’m sorry for flippin’ out on you. I know neither of you would do anything to hurt me, I don’t know why I get like this.”

“Look, after what I did to…Molly…I would never dare do it again. I’m close with Y/N and I don’t want you messin’ that up. I really cherish the friendship I have with her. It was bad enough when Sarah made things difficult, I don’t need you makin’ it worse. You know yesterday was the first time she and I hung out alone in months. Months, Harry. That’s not right. Sarah makes time to hang out with her friends, why can’t we?”

“So if Sarah had a really close guy friend, you wouldn’t even be a little suspicious?”

“How could I be? Especially if she had a friendship before we even met. If someone new came into her life and she all of a sudden was giving all her free time to them, then okay, I’d be suspicious. It’s just me, you know me.”

“She told me if we fought over this again then she’d be done with me…” Harry starts to tear up. “She’s really mad.”

“Do you blame her? Put it to rest. You have nothin’ to worry about when it comes to the two of us. At the end of the day, I’m sure it was you who she wanted to be curled up with and comforted by. I wasn’t steppin’ in as her boyfriend for the day either. I’m her friend and I was there for her, that’s it.”

“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna risk losin’ her over this, so I just need to get over myself.”

“Just don’t jump to the worst conclusion. I have nothin’ but the purest intentions.” Harry runs a hand through his hair.

“She made me sleep in the guest room last night.”

“Good, yeh didn’t deserve to sleep next to her.” He nudges him.

“I really am sorry. I was being ungrateful. I’m happy you’re right across the street, it’s the whole reason we moved there. She wanted to be closer to you. Probably for situations like yesterday.” He sighs. “I’ve not been a good friend.”

“You know what we need. We need a boy’s weekend. The weather’s gettin’ nicer. You, me, and Lou should all go campin’ like old times.”

“Man…that actually sounds like a good idea.”

“We could go memorial day weekend. Then the girls could get together too so no one would be alone.”

“I’ll run it by Y/N, send something in the group chat to see what Lou thinks. He could probably use the weekend away too.”

The two stand up and hug.

“Awwwww.” Sarah says and they look at each other.

“Were you listenin’ the entire time?” Niall asks.

“I couldn’t help it! I didn’t know if you two were gonna try to kill each other.” She smiles. “Group hug?”

“Jesus, c’mere.” Harry opens an arm up for her.

“You better go fix things with Y/N.”

“M’gonna. She should be back from walkin’ the dog now anyways.”

You were sitting on the sofa with Buster when Harry got back. He approaches you slowly.

“Um, hi.”

“Hello.”

“I apologized to Niall.”

“And did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“I feel really bad for makin’ you so up set. I’m-“

“Harry, is it all done now? Are we done with this entire subject?”

“Yes.” He sighs.

“Okay, then we’re good.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He comes to sit next to you.

“You sound a lot better.”

“I took a decongestant.” You both pet the puppy. “I feel a lot better actually.” You start blushing.

“That’s good.”

“Like, a lot better.” You put Buster on the floor and crawl into his lap. You nuzzle your nose against his neck.

“Wanna make up?” You smile against him and start kissing his neck. “I’ll take that as a yes.” You bite down on his skin harshly and suck. “Ah, shit.” He holds you close to him as you suck harder. You come off him and rub your thumb over the mark.

“I don’t wanna fuck in front of the dog, bring me to the bedroom.”

Harry picks you up and brings you to the room. Buster makes his way to his dog bed. Harry lays you down, and looks at you. You caress his face.

“What is it?”

“I just…can’t believe I was doin’ somethin’ that was enough to make you leave me.” He starts to tear up and you sit up on your knees to pull his head to your chest.

“I should not have said that. I’m sorry, I won’t ever say something like that again. I just hate that we kept having the same fight, I was so frustrated. I love you so much, Harry. I’ll never leave you.” You looks up at you with red and puffy eyes.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

He kisses you, cupping your face in his hands. You tug at him as you lay back. One of his hands moves to knead of your breasts.

“Can we just be sweet on each other tonight? I missed yeh so much last night, I wanna be as close as possible.”

“Whatever you wanna do, doll.”

You strip each other of your clothes. Harry lays down all the way and lays your body on top of his. He licks at your core while you pump him, rubbing your thumb over his slit. You wrap your lips around him just as his tongue goes up inside you. The groan from your throat causes him to buck his hips up. His tongue swirls all around you and laps up at your wetness.

“Hold on.” He says. “I don’t wanna come yet.” You pop off him and lay down next to him.

“What do you wanna do now? That was feeling really good.”

“I wanna just slip inside you and stay there.”

“Okay.”

Harry hovers over you, and slips inside. You both moan at the contact. He doesn’t move, he just stays there. You stick your tongue out slightly and he meets it with his. You wrap your legs around him as the kiss deepens. He nips at your jaw and works his way to your neck.

“Ah.” One of your hands grips at his hair, and the other finds one of his hands so you can intertwine your fingers. He licks over the spot the spot he’s sucking on to soothe it, and moves onto another area of your neck.

He was kissing all over you and you loved it. His free hand moves to rub your slit. He starts with soft, slow circles. He looks at you and sees your lips are parted and your eyes are scrunched up. His thumb keeps working your clit, agonizingly slow.

“Harry.” You moan. You start tightening around him. He grits his teeth, but he keeps doing what he’s doing. “That feels so good.”

“You’re so wet.” He kisses on your collar bone and nips at the skin.

You tighten around him again as he rubs you just right. Your toes start to curl and you clench around him the tightest you have.

“Harry, ah, I’m gonna come.” You start thrashing underneath him, but he holds you in place. You squeeze the hand of his that you’re holding.

He feels you flutter and pulsate around him, and his cock throbs and twitches inside you.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He groans.

You both moan loudly as you come at the same time.

“God, that felt so good.” You say pushing his hair out of his face.

“I didn’t mean to come, I’m sorry. I could just really feel all of you coming it was incredible.” He kisses you and pulls out.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do that thing I like…”

He smirks at you and sticks his middle and forefinger inside you before his come can spill out. Usually he pulls out right away and sticks them right in your mouth, but he starts pumping in and out of you.

“What, what are you doing?” You start panting.

“You didn’t really think we were done did you?”

“Fuck.” Your head rolls back into your pills as he pumps faster. “Flip me over, do it from behind.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. You two were making a mess, but neither of you cared. He fingers you from behind and it feels amazing.

“Want your cock again Harry, please, need it so bad.” He pumps himself a few times, and pulls his fingers out. You look at him over your shoulder and open your mouth.

“Fuck.” He says as you suck on his fingers. “Love it when you do that.” You lick your lips when he takes his fingers away.

“Put it in, fuck me up.”

His eyes grow wild. He lines you up with his tip and he thrusts inside. He hits bottom right away.

“God, that’s it.” You moan. “Fuck me, Harry.”

He pulls in and out harder and faster. You clutch at the blankets. His fingers press brusies into your hips. You loved how you two could go from having such a sweet, intimate moment to just be absolutely rough with each other. You push back against him and he groans. He gives your bum a harsh smack and your back arches.

Harry reaches around to grab your throat and pulls you back to him, back flush with his chest. Your head rests on his shoulder, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit while he rocks in and out of you. He keeps a firm grip on your throat. The lack of oxygen to your brain just adding to the intensity of the feeling he was giving your throbbing center. He feels you start to tighten around him again.

You gasp as you come and he loosens his grip on you so you can get some air. His thrusts slow and he kisses your temple. You lean back down on your elbows as he fucks into you even harder.

“Fill me up again, please.”

“Want me to come?”

“Yes, want you to feel so good.”

You tighten around him and he loses it, filling you up for the second time tonight. He collapses next to you after he pulls out.

“Love you so fuckin’ much.” He yanks you onto his chest.

“Love you too.” You kiss him tenderly.

“I’m sorry I’m such an idiot. I’d never do somethin’ to jeopardize all this again.”

“Harry, it’s okay. Please, I don’t want you to start worrying about be going anywhere. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, no one else I’d rather be with.”

“Sweet girl.” He says, moving some hair out of your face. “I wish I could’ve been with you and the baby more this weekend.”

“Me too.”

“I would’ve taken such good care of you too. I would’ve made that noodle soup you like, and wrapped you up in a blanket, and just cuddled you all day.”

“Mm, that sounds really nice.” You nuzzle against him. “You always make things so cozy, Harry.”

His arms tighten around you, and suddenly you just don’t care about anything bad that happened. You two could get through anything as long as you kept trying. The good with Harry always outweighed the bad. Everything was worth it when you got to these moments. When he was just hold you and caress you. A proper cuddle with Niall was nice, but nothing was better than being wrapped in Harry’s strong, tattooed arms.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles angst fic #i feel like i wrote this all day #its like 8k my bad yall #come hang in my inbox!

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vln-vibes · 5 years ago

Text

Unwanted, Unreliable, Unstoppable (2)

Holy shit this did better than expected.

Summary: When one of their own gets harmed by the one who should have protected them most, how will the Team take it? Not lying down thats for sure!

Tags: @abrx2002 @bigpicklebananatree @jardimazul @lozzybowe

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When Dick Grayson became Bruce Wayne’s ward that fateful night he hadn’t known what to expect.

Of course he had heard of the Waynes while on his travels with Haly’s Circus, they were probably part of the Top Ten Richest families in the world if he had to guess. Though no one really knew much about the lone Wayne, Bruce, other than the fact that he was an airheaded philanthropist party-goer. Everyone would pretty much be surprised if he hadn’t just wasted away his family’s money by the time he was in his mid 20s.

He never thought that his new guardian would be doing things like this.

“So….You fight crime dressed as a bat?” Dick found himself asking as he looked around the “Batcave”, as he’d been mentally calling it when Batman started talking about hideouts.

“Something like that”

Dick hadn’t thought much of the training Bruce made him undergo when he said he agreed to take him along to defeat Tony Zucco. He thought it as just regular training like he had done before, granted it was a lot of how to redirect knives back to the enemies, avoiding gunshots, dismantling or disarming guns, sticking to the shadows and how to throw proper kicks and punches.

Was it strange that he had not heard of Batman when people actively talked about heroes like Superman or Red Tornado or Wonder Woman, well no. After all Bruce said he did more detective work, stuck to Gotham and was ‘just’ human.

He hadn’t thought much of it, he needed something to get his frustrations out.

When they took down all of the goons and had Zucco tied up Robin didn’t know how to feel.

“Do what you want with him” Batman had told him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Let it all out; your fear, anger, sadness, let it all out on the man who caused this”

Dick never thought of himself as a bad person even as he began to beat Zucco bloody with his armored fists.

Death would have been too painless for a man like him.

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“Ugh just look at her” Alya grumbled.

In front of them was Kagami talking to a rather attractive teen with rich tanned skin and piercing emerald eyes. Neither she nor any of her friends had any idea who he was and she only got close enough to hear the tail end of their conversation.

“... Exhibition match is going to be the most enjoyable challenge since first dueling with Adrien” she said in her normal stoic voice. The boy seemed to not notice or care as he just nodded along with her.

“Yes, my brother has insisted he come and watch as well. I reckon your mother will also want to?”

“Oh Alya, I just don’t think Kagami is good for Adrien” Lila cried out, snapping Alya from her stewing anger, the girl instinctively hugging her friend in comfort.

“Ever since she’s joined our school, he’s done nothing short of physically lashing out on his father. He even said that if we don’t stop bothering his Kagami that he’ll make me pay!”

“That𑁋That guy is gonna see what it means to mess with my BFF!”

“O-Oh but don’t blame Adrien… after all it was Kagami who started this nonsensical feud within the class as well”

Alya never saw the smirk grow on Lila’s face as everything was going to plan.

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“You shall not make fools of the Tsurugi. We Are Perfection”

Kagami elected to stay quiet as her mother continued to monologue, as though Kagami hadn’t heard the same conversation play out ever since she could remember.

During the sessions she had with Dr. Quinzel, Harley Quinn the psychologist had told her she preferred to go by outside of the office, she had come to realize that what her mother was doing to her was not alright. Her mother continued to enforce her ideals onto Kagami, as though she were trying to live vicariously through her. Kagami couldn’t fathom why; her mother was trained by her grandfather, a kendo Hachi-Dan, all her life and was already a world renowned and record holding fencer… So what did she want out of her? Why was it so important for Kagami to be seen as superior to all others?

“Show him no mercy, that he is nothing against a Tsurugi '' her mother finished much to Kagami’s relief.

“Mother, you are aware this is merely a friendly exhibition match, correct?”

Smack

Oh, Kagami had forgotten who she was talking to; she was not in Gotham, hanging out with her friends or training with the Bats or even talking to Dr.Quinzel or Dr.Isley.

She was in Paris where her mother and Hawkmoth were; Where both her civilian and hero self had unrealistic expectations for her.

The current sting on her leg reminded her of that fact.

“Watch your tongue you insolent child. Now go before you prove to disappoint me further”

“Yes, mother” Kagami gritted out, trying the breathing exercise Luka had taught her as she walked up to the field of play, a mat having been laid out to indicate all the boundaries.

“Are you ready, dragon girl?” Damian questioned, walking back from where Richard, Dick he had insisted, stood alongside her friends. She was too distracted to realize he had an alarmed and analytical look towards her and her mother.

“Only if you are, Chīsai tori-chan”

The two made their way to their positions, M.D'Argencourt waiting for them in the middle before starting the match.

"En garde! Prêts? Allez!"

Kagami had been using her anger to lash out on Damian, some may call it unfair but she looked to think it was a good use of her pent up energy.

“Point to Miss Tsurugi”

“Oh I thought you were better than that?” she smirked underneath her mask. She couldn’t see his expression but she just assumed he rolled his eyes or scowled.

“You merely caught me off guard”

Kagami felt herself smile as she heard her friends cheer for her, Damian shaking his head before going back to their original position.

She was not expecting the events of the day from that moment, she hadn’t realized and would not want to hear her birthgiver’s explanation after that day.

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“Unbelievable!” Robin cried out in frustration, next to him Speedy looked like he was ready to punch anybody who’d stand too close to him.

“Sorry, uh Robin” the ginger speedster looked flustered.

“It’s just too dangerous for people like you to be involved with us” the new ‘hero’, Miss Martian, they recalled, said apologetically. “Your physiology is too susceptible to injury, it isn’t like our own”

“You think we want to be part of your stupid daycare club” Speedy laughed harshly, “We just saved your sorry asses because we were around, because you’re on our turf”

“And you still want to call us fragile and weak? You’re just as underwhelming as they said you’d be” Robin snapped, frustrated at the continued degradement from Metas and the Justice League.

He remembered when he first met Speedy and the League, Batman having been sent a request to help with some world ending thing; definitely above their pay rate but Batman also didn’t trust them to get it done so they agreed.

He remembers working his ass off to make sure these people made it out alive, live to see another day, and help defeat the big bad. Then the comments came rolling;

“Isn’t he too young? Why did we have to call in the human? Is the Bat insane? It's bad enough that we got the man involved, now we have to deal with his kid too? We could handle it without them. Now we have to play babysitter for the humans”

He understood why the Batman didn’t even stand working with the League after that.

“We-We were here by League orders!” Miss Martian cried in outrage.

“Orders to spy on us” Speedy sarcastically remarked as the ‘Young Justice’ flinched “You lot really think you were that slick?”

“Whatever the hell it is they were supposed to do is over” Robin nearly growled out, batarangs at hand, “They’re officially persona non grata”

“You can’t just do whatever you please” Wondergirl began “The League just wishes to know if your mentors are up to any… questionable activity”

“Shitty excuse for shitty behavior” Speedy responded, clearly getting on the nerves of the Young Justice.

“Just let us do our job and we’ll be on our way” Cyborg tried placating though the duo was not impressed.

“Or we can just kick your asses and send you crying back to your bosses” Speedy took out his quiver and pointed straight at them, the group divided between offended and surprised.

“We do not need to result in such behavior, we mean no harm” Starfire tried getting in the middle, only to be pushed back by Kid Flash and Miss Martian. Aqualad seemingly about to do the same but realising it was a fruitless endeavor and just got in a fighting stance.

“You don’t even believe that princess” Robin felt his eyes rolling, the Young Justice tense considering Starfire being princess of another planet was supposed to be a secret.

“You- You shouldn’t know that! See, this only proves what Superman feared! That the Batman has gone rogue!” Miss Martian said in a near panic.

“What do you mean by go rogue; We’re not even part of the League!” Dick was getting real tired of these pretentious metas already. From the corner of his eyes he could see two shadows waiting for their signals and staying in position.

Dick didn’t think of himself as a bad person but this Young Justice really had all of this coming.

“Young Justice, action!”

And really he was sure he could come up with better names than them.

At the end Dick and Roy kept their word, the Young Justice scattered all around them in various states of consciousness on a Central City rooftop. Kid Flash groaned as he looked at their ‘fragile’ assailants, only to see two new figures with them, a blonde girl with an arrow pointed at Miss Martian, and a shorter boy wearing Robin’s costume that just electrocuted Wonder Girl with glorified knuckle busters.

“Oh and Wally,” the speedsters heart began to beat faster as he looked at the cold smile on Robin, ex-Robin?, now wearing a black and blue bodysuit….when did he change? “Tell Superman I’ll be using the name Nightwing from now on”

Nightwing did not think he was a bad person as he, the new Arsenal, Tigress and the new Robin dumped the unconscious bodies of the Young Justice back into their ship, sending it on autopilot after typing in the ‘secret coordinates’ for Mount Justice.

The Justice League would understand loud and clear that they would no longer be expecting help from the Bats or Arrows at a moment's notice or preferably ever from now on.

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“Umm are you Mmd. Tsurugi?” Tomoe Tsurugi turned, indicating her attention was caught by the young lady next to her. She sounded vaguely familiar but they said it was easier to recognize someone by their face than by their voice; she wouldn’t know.

“Who are you to ask?” she responded curtly, wanting to refocus on the match her prodigy and some American boy were engaging in. From what M.D'Argencourt had told her, his name was Damian, a prospective transfer student from America, who wished to check out the school’s fencing team. D’Argencourt had insisted that the boy was one of the best he’d seen, on par with her own prodigy. How could some average boy be on par with her own prodigy of the Tsurugi name?

It simply would not do.

Thus they had arranged this exhibition match, to show just how leagues above the Tsurugi were from this common boy.

“ My name is Lila Rossi, a classmate of your daughter and model, I work for Gabriel Agreste” the girl’s self-praising was not missed by Tomoe but she had ignored it for now, it would be best to quickly get to the point lest she miss a second of the match.

"En garde! Prêts? Allez!"

“I’ve heard of you from M. Agreste. What is your business with me?” Tomoe was getting quickly irritated, as her own prodigy had taken longer this round; the rapid movements of the sabres, swishing in the air and clashing into one another, both opponent’s feet moving across the mat in quick and small intervals.

“ I know I’m not supposed to say things without letting M. Agreste know first but,” she starts to tear up, at least Tomoe could hear that from the hiccuping of her voice. “Your daughter has been influencing Adrien to rebel against his father”.

Her prodigy did what?

“I overheard them talking about how the two planned to help each rebel against M. Agreste and you. She said she’d throw the match in order to disgrace you”

Tomoe had trained Kagami better than that! There was no way the insolent child would be so foolish as to𑁋

“ Point to Mister Damian”

She began to metaphorically see red as they called for the final round of their little exhibition match. Kagami was made to perfection; this should have already been a settled deal instead of dragging out for almost five minutes now. Kagami better not disappoint her in the final match lest she have to discipline the girl.

“ I know this is an inopportune time to inform you of this but I fear of what else she’ll do and what she’ll make Adrien do if she keeps this up… With such influential families it would be dishonorable to let this continue further”

Tomoe was so deep in her head that she missed the rapid footsteps running across the mat or the sound of liquid falling on it.

"Final round. En garde! Prêts? Allez!"

The match had lasted just as long as the last, almost using up the full three minutes. She could hear the two make their way onto Kagami’s side of the mat when Tomoe realized that she was disgracing the Tsurugi name on purpose.

The child slipped backwards, she could already hear the announcement before D’Argencourt could.

“Point to Mister Damian. Match goes to Damian”

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“Again”

Dick took out his escrima sticks once, panting and sweating profusely but did as his instructor told. He felt himself repeat the same movements over and over again, he was going solely by muscle memory at this point.

“Alright Grayson, you’re done for the day” Dick resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he gave a slight bow and took a drink from his water bottle.

“So how have the kids been Slade?” he asked nonchalantly, knowing if it were any other person they’d be dead for even bringing up Slade Wilson’s children.

“Joseph is doing as well as always, focusing on the fine arts and being a good kid. Rose just enrolled in the same private school as him so they’re looking out for each other” the mercenary said with a huff, one Dick saw through.

“Why, I’d say you sound like a proud father!”

“As if you and Bats don’t talk about the birds like that”

Dick knew he had him there.

When he was 9 years old, a year after debuting as Robin and being adopted, he met Bruce’s ‘girlfriend’, if they could call whatever game those two were playing an actual relationship. He did not like Talia al Ghul, even less who her father was but he kept his opinion to himself, he wanted Bruce to be happy. Then it turned out she was pregnant.

Talia had decided to stow away from Ra’s, definitely not defecting from him anytime soon but she also knew that the man held too many secrets; few which she was able to discover. She was already aware that Ra’s had contingency plans if the Lazarus Pits stopped working on him, he was planning on possessing the body of someone of his blood. She knew the child would be the perfect vessel in his eyes.

So she lied to Ra’s, stating that she was going on a deep cover mission for the League, dismantling or infiltrating some country from the inside instead of just killing their way in. Instead she hired Slade as a bodyguard and to help maintain her cover while she stayed at Wayne Manor. He had to admit that it was the softest he’d seen her.

Then when he was 12, they found Jason Todd. Well more like they caught him trying to steal the wheels from the Batmobile in the middle of the night at Crime Alley. The kid had spunk and a not great life living in Crime Alley’s streets so they took him in as their own. At the same time Dick was outgrowing Robin and didn’t think the mantle should gather dust as they waited for Damian to grow up; Jason was the perfect candidate.

That same year Batgirl came out of nowhere, a new shadow that hunted down corrupt cops specifically. Dick hadn’t really been all too surprised when it turned out to be his friend and classmate, because he was bored and decided skipping two grades would be a good idea, Barbara Gordon. That or the fact that they immediately took her in and gave her real training.

He was 15, nearing 16, when Tim Drake literally barged into their lives.

He was a scrawny 9 year old that had apparently been stalking them while they went around Gotham beating up very dangerous people and had found out their identities by seeing him perform a quadruple somersault. Seriously what the fuck had been the only thing in his mind at the moment.

It turned out that Tim had come to them in need of protection as he found out his parents were involved with the Court of Owls, something Bruce had tried to uncover but even he was beginning to believe was a myth, with his parents soon scheduling for him to be tested as a potential Talon. They were fully willing to sell their son’s soul for their cause and not caring that he would lose his humanity in the process. It wasn’t hard to open a case against the Drakes as concerned citizens for child neglect and embezzlement that may or may not have been discovered while they raided their place in the night and took anything they owned pertaining to the Court of Owls the week before the police began their investigations.

Which led to now.

Joker had decided to attack the new Robin, his perverted mind finding it unfair that he wasn’t told of the new change. Not only had he been surprised by the fact that Jason survived but he also got his ass handed back to him by Batman and Nightwing when they found out. Jason was borderline dying and the closest place they could go was, unfortunately, Infinity Island; aka al Ghul palace.

Ra’s was fortunately not on the island however David Cain was not informed of the fact that the Bats and Talia al Ghul had a strange alliance, sicking his living weapon aka his daughter out on them. She had stopped when she saw how close to death Jason was, freezing as though she could physically see his string of life snapping, and when David was readying to retaliate against her, he found himself knocked out by Talia. A few hours later the Batjet was sent back and the Batplane returned with Alfred, Barbara, Tim and Damian inside.

Once Jason was well enough, a day or two hopefully, they’d be leaving the island with a new sister in tow.

Dick would stop at nothing to keep his family safe.

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“Oh my god, Kagami”

Marinette had been hanging out with Damian, Dick, Marc and Alix in her room when her skylight window opened. Now this itself was a common occurrence after she and Adrien revealed their identities and when she began to give Miraculous full time.

However, the sight in front of her was one she had never expected to see before.

“I hope I’m not interrupting”

Kagami had dropped the transformation the moment she opened the window, Longg floating besides her in concern.

Her normally impeccable fair skin was littered with bruises of various shades, the most notable being a dark purple one on her cheek close to her eye. There were others she noticed on her hand and few popping up from underneath her ripped leggings.

Marinette was snapped out of her stupor as Kagami stumbled down the window, her bookbag and two carry-on bags on her back.

“What happened?” Marc asked, right beside Kagami as Marinette took the other side, helping the Japanese girl with her bags and sat her on Marinette’s chaste.

“... My mother was not happy with my performance today” the girl winced as she sat down “She seems to have gotten it in her head that I sabotaged the match and have disgraced the family name”

“Kagami,” she looked up to see Richard, Dick, with his deep sapphire eyes full of concern and unrelenting fury. “Do you feel safe at home?”

Had she been asked a year ago she would have said that she did or that it was irrelevant and did not matter. She has since learned that ignoring the blaring issue and suffering in silence would do no good for anyone.

“No, I do not”

“Do you want to open a case against your mother?”

“... I do”

“That’s all I needed to hear”

While Marinette went to get her parents, scrambling up an explanation for how Kagami got to her house, not that her parents would ask once they saw her friend, Damian took photos of Kagami as evidence for a domestic abuse case.

They all took notice of her missing ring and the patch on her blazer.

Dick Grayson was not going to let this go.

But he knew that the woman did not deserve his time as Nightwing for this. No. She would just twist it with her reputation; they needed to destroy that to truly break her.

He may not have jurisdiction in Paris but he was still an officer and vigilante dammit! Not to mention he had a billionaire dad notorious for adopting kids left and right.

“Hey dad, y’know how it's my birthday in like ten months; how would you feel about giving me another sibling or two?"

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“Who are you?” In the middle of their stakeout for a potential safehouse in Happy Harbor, Nightwing and Robin turned to see an eerily familiar looking teen floating next to them, arms crossed but not looking ready to make a move. Yet.

“The better question is who are you” Nightwing quipped “I know Boy Scout did the Devil’s Tango but his kid definitely shouldn’t be as old as you are”

“Oh my god, shut up Nightwing” Robin groaned, Tim wondering what his odds would have been if he had just run away from home instead of going to the Bats.

“... I’m Superboy” the teen looked at the two curiously, he had heard hushed whispers of the Batman and his sidekicks, Nightwing and Robin. He also knew that for some reason the name Nightwing had caused discomfort and righteous anger to Superman.

“Superboy, huh.” Nightwing questioned as Robin began typing on his wrist computer “So you’re the secret member of Young Justice”

“How do you know that?” he hovered defensively, confused at Nightwing’s hand wave.

“Chill Superboy. I’m sure you’re all aware of the not so secret dislike between us and the League” his smirk told him there was more there… not that he’d know. None of the adults really talked to him other than Black Canary, and she was only a temporary member at that; she had mentioned to Superboy how she usually works alongside the Arrows of Central City and was part of The Birds of Prey.

“Especially after I stole the name from Superman”

“Stole from Superman?” Superboy was never aware of the fact that Nightwing was a name Superman ever used, it wasn’t part of the data fed to him through Cadmus or even personal studies he did in the Mount Justice library.

“Hasn’t big blue told you about his heritage?” Robin asked, an air of nonchalance and judgement around his statement.

“... No. Superman would rather ignore the fact I even exist” Superboy hadn’t meant to sound so pretentious but he couldn’t help it! It was getting on his nerves, how everyone just saw him as nothing more than a mini-Superman or a clone or even a weapon the enemy made… He wanted to be more than all that.

“Do you have a name?” Nightwing asked, his cheerful demeanor gone and replaced with a serious and protective one.

“I am Superboy”

“Noㅡ I mean a name for the teen underneath the ‘S’. Not a codename” Nightwing asked gently “People don’t call me Nightwing when I’m not wearing the mask”

“... I’ve only been called Superboy, even in Cadmus”

“Oh you have got to be kidding me for fucks sake” he heard Robin’s angry huff, he couldn’t exactly turn off his super senses.

“Well that’s dehumanizing” Nightwing was suddenly all smiles again, gently pulling Superboy down and sitting on a city bench, oddly there was no one near their general vicinity.

“How about I give you a Kryptonian history lesson, straight from the Fortress of Solitude’s archives! The story of Nightwing and Flamebird”

That was how Superboy became friends with the “dangerous enemy” and got a real first idea of what it meant to be Kryptonian.

That was also the night he gained the name Conner.

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When Kagami didn’t show up to school the next day no one thought much of it, at least no one that wasn’t Lila Rossi and Alya Cesaire.

People began to grow curious when Marinette and Chloe were also gone or the fact that Marc and Alix had huge eye bags under their eyes. Depending on who asked they’d say that it was something personal or none of their business.

People began to get concerned when Sabrina’s dad, officer Raincomprix, asked to speak to M. Bustier, Adrien, Marc and Alix.

When the class began to pester Sabrina for answers she gave them a lost look and said “I can’t tell you anything, I’m not even supposed to know about the case but dad asked for some information… I think it's best we back off”

Of course that didn’t stop Lila or Alya from gloating over their victory, hoping that Kagami had been pulled from school or even sent back to Japan.

They never realized how much their act of revenge had impacted the Japanese girl or her group of friends.

Bruce Wayne would arrive that same day and head straight for the Dupain-Cheng household along with his daughter Cass and sons Tim and Jason.

“I didn’t think we’d have to start this whole process until after December but being early never hurt” Tim tried to joke, helping lift the somber mood just a bit.

After Tom and Sabine offered them refreshments before having to head downstairs to the bakery, the group began to think of logical backstories before Officer Raincomprix was due to arrive.

“... So you can just say after that poor excuse of a birth giver did what she did to you” Jason made sure to keep his cool, he knew these kids didn’t need a fucking Akuma right now “ You already had bags prepared and managed to leave when she went to sleep and went to your friend’s house. You knew you’d be safe there and that they’d be able to take you to the hospital to get your injuries looked at”

“I think that’ll work” Tim nodded along, invested in his laptop as he looked through Parisian surveillance for any other instances of public domestic abuse or even covering Kagami’s tracks as Ryuuko from last night, not that he blamed her for trying to leave as soon as possible.

“I know I said I’d help you with Gabriel but, “ Bruce began before Marinette shook her head.

“Right now Kagami’s case is more urgent… besides this may be beneficial with our case against Gabriel for associating with Tomoe and praising her form of parenting. Maybe we can even get them both in one go”

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Amidst the laundry list of paperwork and things to get done there were two important things happening;

First was the announcement of the Flying Grayson’s Foundation, a scholarship for international students to travel and study at Gotham Academy and any other high ranking schools around the country; they were looking for children who were either of lower income who could take advantage of the once in a lifetime opportunity or students who displayed great talents and could use the enriching environment these schools had to offer.

In other words it was a cover up to get the Miraculous Team away from Paris and in Gotham.

Should Bruce really be using his fortune to do these sort of things? He was rich with money to spare, if he used it to help teens that were left to their own devices by most of the adults in their lives then who was to say what he could or could not do with his money.

The second was the Hawkmoth investigation finally going guns ablazing.

Bruce and Marinette had both decided to let their teams handle tracking Hawkmoth for now as they strategized on ways to get Adrien away from Gabriel and secretly Nathaniel away from his parents.

With the later they had more luck by the name of Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy.

Within the months they had spent together the duo had gotten attached to the teens and were protective even as they ‘attacked the city’ to keep their criminal cover. When hearing about Nathaniel's situation the two had begun to think of ways to get him away from it, having had similar experiences growing up, along with Bruce.

They hadn’t realized there was a much simpler solution that wasn’t killing/arresting the Kutzbergs or kidnapping Nathaniel.

“You know you can just Matilda this and just give the adoption papers to them, right?” Duke said from the couch one day. “From what Nat says its likely they won’t give a shit or even protest”

It had worked.

Nathaniel was now officially Nathaniel Isley-Quinzel.

Barbara had worked with Tim and Max to perfect the laters algorithm for tracking down the Hawkmoth (along with some upgrades on Markov and maybe creating other sentient A.Is they hoped wouldn’t cause the apocalypse in the far future). Thankfully Tomoe Tsurugi had proven a valuable pawn as they managed to track down the one mile radius from where the Akuma could have come from when she was arrested for child abuse, physical abuse and child neglect.

Luckily, Tomoe had tried to attack Kagami when she heard her ex-prodigy and former daughter on her way to the police car. Dick had intervened, giving her a nerve punch and rendering her unconscious. Of course he brought up that it was for self-defense and could easily be proven by the cop cameras, though it was still seen as overkill.

That Akuma was quickly captured by Ladybug, who had already seen it coming, as she and the new Bee, Abeille, were watching the arrest from a nearby rooftop.

Money made things work much more faster in terms of the adoption process. It helped that he already had four adopted sons, an adopted daughter and biological son as proof of his competence as a parent. They’d laugh at him being a ‘great parent’ but he was a tired man who was secretly trying to change the world for better by dressing up as a Bat furry at night and was trying to be good for them and also had six legal and two technical children, so really they’d take what they could get.

Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Sancoer were doing their best to cover any violations of child labor laws, even going so far as to try to ground and pull Adrien out of school again.

Of course when Bruce and his three oldest sons showed up they had all the evidence they needed for a major scandal to break and ruin the Gabriel brand. They did make a very nice offer at a not so nice expense;

Give guardianship to/let Bruce adopt Adrien and the press would never have to find out.

Gabriel had nearly yelled at the man to leave his home the instant he subtly suggested it, even going so far as to call the “Gorilla”, which not only did not work but also gave the Wayne’s an even harder dislike of the man.

As it turns out as soon as Adrien told Gorilla, damn it he would find out the man’s name one day! About the plan against his father the man gave Adrien a flashdrive to use as part of the evidence.

“It's up to you Mister Agreste” Tim said in his CEO voice, cold and with business only in mind.

“You could just listen to our offer and just renounce any custody you have of Adrien and give it to us” Dick practically sang through his eyes but still held a hard look.

“Or you could face the backlash of not only exploiting, but also keeping him captive in his own home and overworking your son all for the name of your brand… Not to mention your questionable business practices or bias towards an underaged model” Jason added as nonchalantly and non threateningly as he could. It did not work, which was the whole point. “Losing your reputation and your son anyway”

Gabriel knew he was in over his head but was no fool.

Adrien packed up his things the next day, beginning his process of shipping his belongings off to Gotham. Coincidentally, Gorilla had given his letter of resignation and had gotten a job as the main caretaker of one Alise Anciel-Pennyworth.

Gabriel swore he’d get his revenge against Bruce Wayne one way or another.

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Conner did not know what to do.

He knew he did the right thing in distancing himself from his team, he didn’t know them well enough to consider them friends. But it still hurt to be alone…

Superman had been nothing but a pain in his ass with his Boy Scout routine and higher than thou personality.

Ugh just thinking about it made him want to shoot him with his heat vision. He had no idea how Superboy, because yeah the kid asked him and how could he say no to him?, could be related to that man. It must have been the Lois Lane of the kid.

Conner didn’t know who to turn for, there was no way he’d go to any of his biological donors, so he'd just spent the past few days flying endlessly.

He had stopped by Star City to see how Black Canary was, and for a quick session, but as much as she and Green Arrow offered he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Not to mention he had a feeling he needed to go somewhere else.

The only other person who had given him the light of day was….

“Are you Superboy?” Conner looked up, which he didn’t do that often now that he thought about it, and saw a male figure standing on a lightpost, his features hidden by the Gotham night.

“Not anymore, who the hell are you?” the guy hoped down, with the light he was able to see the blonde hair and leather catsuit… did Catwoman get an apprentice?

“Well you should know the big bad Bat doesn't like metas. Any reason you’re here or should I escort you out right meow?”

“... I’m going to ignore the pun for now. I’m looking for Nightwing”

Conner noticed the twitch of the leather ear against the honey blonde hair and began to wonder if the guy was either trustworthy or meta. Just as Conner was about to fly away the guy tapped his ear, he recognized Nightwing’s voice before the guy nodded and ended the transmission.

“Well looks like Nightwing is vouching for you” he sat down on the park bench where Conner hadn’t realized he had spaced out for most of the afternoon. “He says to stay put, he’s kinda busy right now but shouldn’t take too long. Anyways I’m Chat Noir, Parisian superhero”

“Never heard of you before but it's nice to meet you” Conner shook his hand even though Chat Noir scowled, dropping the whole playful demeanor.

“No surprise there. You know we spent years asking for the Justice League’s help and they didn’t do shit, they didn’t even open our messages” the half Kryptonian experiment thought that he must have been mistaken.

Sure the Justice League had Superman and was full of a bunch of enhanced beings/meta-humans who would rather have brawns than brains according to his #2 Sperm Donor and refused to allow ‘regular’ humans or even only slightly enhanced on their team even though they knew how to kick ass but they weren’t terrible enough to not answer distress signals, right?

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Nightwing and Batman told my team”

“And you trust their words, just like that?”

“Don’t you?” Chat Noir seemed to stare him down before Conner sighed, hand raking through his naturally curly hair.

“Yeah, I do. Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust him. Never met the other Bats and Birds though”

“Trust me, it’ll be chaotic in a fun way” Chat Noir grinned, a knowing twinkle in his eye. “So, why are you looking for Nightwing? Sorry if its invasive but well, you know what they say about cats”

“Curiosity killed the cat?” Conner questioned, the shit eating grin on Chat Noir’s face grew, like the cat who caught the canary.

“But satisfaction brought it back!”

“It’s kind of a long story, I doubt you’ll want to know the knitty gritty” Conner showed his gloved hands into his leather jacket, sighing.

“I’m all ears”

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“So you’re telling me that you were genetically engineered to replace and destroy Superman by using his stolen DNA and the one of his arch enemy Lex Luthor while also being planted with trigger words to make sure Luthor had a way to control you. Superman never even liked you even when he thought you were just a clone of him even though his own kid was pretty chill with you and he met you after the whole Daddy #2 reveal. Which also he used the triggers to make you attack your teammates, the Young Justice, so even though you got the triggers removed you quit and decided to take a break from the hero biz but you don’t really have anyone to trust so your best bet was Nightwing, who you’ve talked to every now and then since he likes messing with Superman and taught you about Kryptonian culture”

“Well yeah basically”

“Holy shit you need to see Dr. Quinzel or something”

“What about you leather boy? What are you even doing in Gotham?” Conner asked with a smirk, feeling comfortable with the feline boy after letting out his whole life story to him.

“Well do we want to start from when my mom died or when I was chosen to be a superhero at thirteen or when the whole city of Paris just expected my partner and I to be able to defeat the full on grown man terrorizing the city all on our own with no help whatsoever?”

“Daddy issues?”

“Pot calling kettle”

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“Ugh I can’t believe Ladybug didn’t show up to the fire yesterday” Alya ranted to her classmates, the ones that were still worth talking to that is.

“Dude you do realize that the fire department was there and had everything handled, right?” Nino looked at her skeptically, the two had broken up a few months or so ago now but they still treated each other with decency. At least most of the time.

“Think of all the lives they risked by not showing up!” Lila cried out “How could they leave Paris at their most vulnerable state?”

“I- I’m sure they were busy” Rose squeaked out, trying her best to console her friend. She still held some hope for the heroes of Paris after all!

“Yeah it's not like the firemen were doing their job or anything” Alix rolled her eyes at the group.

“Sabrina!” the ginger girl tensed at her name, turning to see the very much in danger of being akumatized again reporter “Didn’t your dad and the police department have to deal with those bank robbers last week without help of Paris’ heroes?”

“We-Well yes but my dad does that 𑁋”

“They’re just being so selfish! Think of all the people who risk their lives everyday with no magic bulletproof suit. They think they’re above Paris’ everyday problems and only show up when we can’t handle it”

“Surely you aren’t such a fool, Cesaire” Max stated cooly as he typed away on his laptop “Or do you not remember how everything used to function before their arrival”

“Listen here you little nerd!”

“N-No Alya… I know I shouldn’t say this but the truth is… Ladybug is over Paris” Lila began to tear up, hiding her face within her hands as she started to choke up “She and I had a fight a few weeks back; she said she’s tired of dealing with all of Paris’ problems even when I begged her to reconsider! I- I think she’s planning on abandoning us altogether… and we all know we’re doomed without Ladybug there to keep her sidekicks in check”

The room was full of looks of shock and surprise, including that of Miss Bustier who was sitting at her desk. Suddenly that grieving silence was interrupted by laughs coming from the back, Adrien trying to reign in his laughter.

“Oh god,that’s probably the only lie you told that’s partly true Rossi '' the blonde sunshine child had gotten more cynical the longer he spent time in public school. There were rumors he threatened his father with a lawsuit through a third party about child labor laws, something Alya tried researching and asking him about. Apparently Adrien was officially out of the fashion industry.

“She really is a lost cause” Alix had not so subtly whispered to Kim, who nodded along.

“What would you lot know! Besides anyone whose friends with the Ice Queen, Tsurugi is𑁋”

“Actually, Alya” Marinette interrupted “As class vice-president you should be aware that Kagami had her name legally changed. She now goes by Kagami𑁋”

“Oh dear, did you get disowned Kagami?” Lila framed it as an innocent concern but those who knew the real her recognized the mocking tone.

“I owe you no explanations, Rossi” the girl responded back, going back to ignoring the class with Marinette. They still remembered the day she came back to school, most of the class, not including a select few assholes they decided not to name, had looked at her in worry as she branded various bandages and some healing bruises; she had all but ignored them and continued on her regular routine.

Meanwhile that night Bruce Thomas Wayne made a press conference at Wayne Enterprises’ building, with his two oldest Richard John “Dick” Grayson-Wayne and Jason Peter Todd-Wayne.

“Mister Wayne are you really saying you’ve adopted another child?” Lois Lane stood up as the microphone was given to her “What warranted the newest member of the Wayne Clan? Is it a sensitive matter like that of your daughter Cassandra or perhaps like that of Damian’s?”

Bruce made sure to give a flustered look, especially since her husband, one Clark Kent, otherwise known as Kal-El or Superman, was with her.

“Why I must say, those are excellent questions Miss Lane” he started off with a smile “ However, to answer your questions they’ve been a family acquaintance and then friend for some time. It’s not my story to tell but their home life was not the healthiest, it got to the point where my family offered to help them get out of that situation. They were admittedly reluctant to do so but… I suppose a line had been crossed and they asked for our assistance”

The members of the press seemed to deflate at the confession, all drawing up their conclusions to what his words meant and what the newest member had experienced in their life.

“Yes, Ms. Grant?” Dick asked, pointing for them to hand over the microphone for Cat Grant.

“Will we be meeting the newest member of your family anytime soon?”

“They will be properly introduced to the public during the Wayne Gala next month in Paris, they’re still attending school elsewhere but they’ll be transferring to Gotham Academy and properly moving into the estate this upcoming semester”

They were sure the new Wayne would be making headlines when the time arrived.

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“You’re serious” Conner asked in awe, “You’d really do that?”

“Oh kitty,” Selina began to brush her fingers across Conner’s curly locks as she held the hurt boy closer to her.

After arriving in Gotham and getting to talk with Nightwing, who when learning about the situation the teen was in had recruited the help of the Gotham Sirens to host the boy as the Wayne’s had a lot of eyes on them after the announcement of an adopted child; Conner didn’t need the attention right now.

The Sirens had agreed after learning about everything the boy had gone through, Harley agreeing that he needed stability and offered sessions or even having Dinah come visit, while Ivy made sure their place was secure enough to withstand an attack and kept vigilant in case the boy scout decided to come looking for Conner, even if they doubted he’d’ try. Selina tried to get the boy to open up, sharing her own childhood backstory and how she became Catwoman.

That’s when Selina realized that Conner had no family name, he’d even only gone as Superboy until fairly recently. No one bothered to give him a name.

So she offered her own.

“Of course I am. In fact any one of the people in this apartment and even the Bats would offer their name if you asked”

Conner knows that Jon called him an “honorary Kent” on the basis of being his dad’s clone and a Krytonian but Conner never felt like he had earned the name. Clark certainly never offered.

“Conner Kent, they said I should feel free to use that name” Conner sighed “But I don’t think it’s right”

“Well whatever name you choose it’ll be yours. Though I suggest making up your mind soon, Oracle is working on making you some legal documents so you can finally have a ‘normal life’ if that’s what you want”

“What even is normal?” the duo looked behind to see Nathaniel, graphite smudges on his face. The red headed boy was staying over with Harley and Ivy as his new moms and they were working on some more “family bonding time”. If all went well he’d be transferring to Gotham Academy for the new school year.

If Selina remembered correctly his boyfriend and Alfred’s great-nephew would also be moving to Gotham while Alfred’s sister would be placed in a senior center or given a caretaker.

“What happened to you?” Conner muffled a laugh as he took a look at Nathaniel’s state.

“Deadlines” the boy in question said, chugging what they thought was hot coffee, Trixx sleeping on his head, almost camouflaging in the red. “I’m about to go in a 12+ coma, night”

“But its 2 pm?” Conner asked amused, Nathaniel walking out of the room with a wave of his hands before peeking back inside with a smirk.

“By the way, Chat Noir has a thing for black hair and blue eyes”

Selina was amused by the flush Conner was quick to gain and decided that she’d tease him about it another day.

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“Chloe, Nino hey!” Adrien waved at his friends as they made their way around the enormous amount of rich/influential people that were attending the first ever Flying Graysons Scholarship celebration in Paris. All of Dupont Francois was allowed to attend, though Lila insisted it was thanks to her connections, because of the amount of students that would be receiving their awards/scholarships that night.

The whole Miraculous team was clad in images to their hero persona via Miraculous by MDC line that Marinette had been working on ever since she quit being class president almost a year ago. They were her most popular designs on her website, even internationally which they had found odd.

Nino was wearing an Anselm inspired bomber jacket along with a standard white button up and black jeans. Chloe was wearing something a bit more formal with a two piece dress with a black top and honey gold pencil skirt with little bees stitched at the hems and some high heels, her hair was let down for once with a pearl hairclip keeping her bangs up.

“I’m guessing you got here with the rest of your not yet adopted family?” Chloe asked while the boy grinned. Adrien had decided that the first thing he would do as a not yet Wayne was to wear other designer clothes that were not from the Gabriel design, and what better clothes than those of his platonic soulmate. Marinette may have gone over the top but he loved her for it; deep emerald dress pants and tie, the tie having subtle cat paws travelling from the top to the bottom where a cat was stitched, a black button up with the same shade of green as the pants on the underside, showing up as he had rolled his sleeves, standard black vans and her iconic bowler hat.

“Well yeah but I also got a date” Adrien smirked at their surprised and offended looks

“And you didn’t tell me!” they both said outraged.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag now, babe?” the two turned to see Conner, whom they met a handful of times since he tended to hang out alot with the Sirens; he was a cool and overall good guy who just had shitty adults in his life according to Nathaniel, who’d see him when visiting his moms.

“Well at least you have good taste” Chloe gave Conner a one over; he was for once not wearing the same leather jacket he wore as not-Superboy, though he wore a ruby button up with rolled sleeves, a black vest and black jeans making the outfit more of a business casual sort of vibe though his brown combat boots definitely it lean more on casual.

“Thank you, your highness” the Kryptonian bowed much to their amusement “Though I don’t think I got a bad catch either”

“Damn I don’t think we had any betting pools for that” Kim laughed as he walked along with Max. Kim was wearing mocha dress shorts and a beige dress shirt, a mocha bow tie and gray suspenders with little monkeys tied the whole thing together. Max had a more average short sleeved white button up and khakis combination though with the addition of a coffee bowtie and deep coffee formal jacket with small silver horseshoes on the collar it definitely spiced up the look.

“By my calculations you guys were the most unpredictable pairing though it doesn’t surprise me that you got together before LadyRobin”

“LadyRobin? I thought we were going with Daminette or Maridami?” Nino asked amused

“Whatever their name is, those two are taking forever to make a move! For kwami’s sake RedScales/LukaTim already got together months ago” Chloe huffed in annoyance causing the group to laugh in good nature.

“Conner?”

The group took quick notice of Conner's sudden stiffness, looking up to see a besticaled man with an overbearing aura, as though his mere presence could overpower you. They had assumed that it was because of his large figure. Until Bruce made his way towards them.

“Clark Kent, right? With the Daily Planet?”

That got reactions from the teens; they were well aware of who the man before them was.

“Right you are sir. It's an honor to meet you in person mister Wayne” Clark laughed politely in a very obviously superficial way.

“I’d hardly call this the first time, after all I know the Daily Planet has a tendency to send you and Miss Lane when covering cases in Gotham” Bruce smiles before looking at the group of teens, as though he had just noticed them, “Ah! I see you’ve met some of the recipients of our Flying Graysons Scholarship”

“Oh, really?” Clark gave a skeptical look as he looked at the teens who were subtly moving Conner away from the center of attention.

“Yes; We have Kim Le Chien as a training olympian swimmer and overall athlete, Nino Lahiffe who’s been getting recognition on short films he’s created for school along with some original soundtracks he’s made and Max Kante and his talent for coding and robotics”

“And what of the others?” the reporter pestered on, though they knew he just wanted to know what Conner was doing there with them,

“ Well, Adrien Graham de Venily is a family friend, while Chloe Bourgeois is daughter of the mayor and of the fashion mogul Style Queen” he gestured to the two blondes gave cold smiles at the besticaled man “Both they and Conner Kyle here” he patted Conner’s shoulder, the teen relaxing at a familiar touch before glaring at Clark, “The adopted son of a family friend, will be transferring along with the award recipients considering they’re all friends to Gotham Academy; I rather think its touching how deep their friendship runs”

“Conner… Kyle?”

“Yes. It's my legal name on my birth certificate, Mr.Kent. Do you have a problem with that?” Conner puffed up his chest towards his genetic donor.

“... None at all Mr.Kyle” Clark had then been quickly swept up in a conversation that was truly about nothing that Bruce had distracted him with, allowing the group to leave towards the balcony for some much needed privacy.

“Are you alright, Kon?” Adrien looked up at his boyfriend in concern before the boy sighed with a tired smile.

“I will be”

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“I can’t believe Adrien blew me off like this!” Lila cried out on her ride to the Wayne Gala. She didn’t care for the stupid scholarship, her mother’s job could easily send them to wherever the hell they wanted anyway. Alya seemed to believe that she had a chance of getting the award and scoring an interview with the Wayne’s newest member. If Lila had her way then she was sure she would get one of those rich idiots eating out of the palm of her hand by the end of the night. Especially if they were as much of a playboy as Brucie Wayne was.

“Lila you need to realise that Adrien isn’t worth it” Alya soothed “He’s done so much shit to you, he doesn’t deserve your time. I bet you can totally score a better man at the gala than anyone Adrien could hope to be”

“Tha-Thanks Alya, I don’t know where I’d be without my bestie”

The two girls met up with the rest of their school during the reception, though a few noticeable people were not with the group.

“Thank you, everyone for coming today to support this wonderful new foundation” Richard’s voice echoed as he made his way on stage, the audience applauding as he reached the table with all the awards.

“I remember before meeting Bruce I’d travel around the world along with the circus with my parents; we used to perform gravity defying tricks as the Flying Graysons. We’d see the different places of the world but I noticed the differences in the culture and state of living. So now I’d like to honor their memory with the help of dad by giving different gifted and talented kids around the world a chance to flourish and further polish their talents”

Alya was already streaming on the Fox Tea as the crowd clapped. Lila wasn’t impressed though; he may look like money but he was just a circus monkey after all. Though his body certainly looked like a million dollars.

“And to help give out these awards I’d like to invite my family, including my new little sister; Kagami Wayne!”

Lila would feel her nails stab into her palms as the Waynes came out from behind the curtains, a familiar Asian girl with them.

She hated the fact that her dress was as gorgeous as it was.

Kagami hadn’t wanted to go over the top but according to her brothers and sisters she needed to stand on her own lest the media try to brush her off or even try to start shit with Bruce neglecting them. Marinette had worked long and hard on the dress she wore, swearing it was her magnus opus of the Miraculous by MDC summer formal line. A raspberry red thigh high figure hugging dress with a silk skirt and golden embroidery with a dragon wrapping up to her waist. It had been months since Kagami began to rebel against her birthgiver and had grown her hair out enough to curl it and clip it to the side of her hair with a golden hair ornament Bruce had gifted her when the papers went through, pairing nicely with the golden heels, belt and choker she wore.

The rapid flashes of light nearly blinded Lila but somehow none of the Wayne’s seemed affected by them as they just stood and posed for the paparazzi.

“Now we’d like to present the Flying Graysons Scholarship to the following people from Francois Dupont; Marc Anciel, Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Nathaniel Isley-Quinzel, Max Kante, Alix Kubdel, Nino Lahiffe, and Kim Le Chien”

If it weren’t for the fact that she spotted Gabriel earlier in person and could currently see him glaring at the Waynes, Lila would have been counting on Akuma to appear.

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“Oh my kwami, please tell me I’m not seeing what I think I’m seeing” Marinette stated as she rolled her suitcases behind her, her friends in similar states as they saw the building before them. It was now the end of August by the time they officially moved into their new dorm… or rather new apartment building in which they were the only residents besides Mrs.Anciel-Pennyworth and “Gorilla”. Adrien had sworn all of them to not tell him his former bodyguards real name because he was a big boy who’d investigate it himself.

“Holy shit this man literally just flexed at us” Conner said in awe, lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at the place, it seemed like Bruce had thought ahead and coated certain rooms in lead paint, enough to keep Boy Scout from snooping but to be safe for his friends to not face health issues.

“Okay he’s clearly showing favorites now unless he did the same for the other winners” Alix looked unimpressed.

“Though he certainly did a 180 of this place” Max nodded, as it turned out those months ago this had once been the building where the now extinct gang was keeping their “merch”. Since then they knew Wayne Enterprises had bought it out but they hadn’t realized that Bruce would refurbish it and make it into their new living place.

“Seriously, Mr.Wayne you didn’t have to spend𑁋” Nathaniel began, looking as the man came out with his own kids to help with the move and to get Kagami, Marc and Adrien settled.

“Don’t worry about it. It was like spending money at the dollar store for him” Jason ruffled his hair before picking up some boxes and taking them inside.

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“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to buy us out” Luka said as they finished up the tour of the glorified dorm/ mansion.

The building had what they called six visible floors;

The rooftop had an indoor pool and was fully furnished to hold campfires or even barbecues if they wanted as well as a collapsable roof.

The sixth floor is where the music studio and labs were. Both were soundproof, reinforced and had monitors linked up to Big Sister aka Hecate ( the artificial intelligence Barbara had worked on to reassure Bruce that the kids wouldn’t die in their dorm. She was no replacement for Alfred however Guillaume ‘Gorilla’ Durand promised to do his best in taking care of the children’s well-being and that of Alise.) who would warn them if their activities were reaching dangerous levels.

The fifth floor was called the Artist Alley. Half of it was occupied by Marinette and Chloe as they developed Lady Luck (trademark pending) by MDC while Marc and Nathaniel occupied the other half with their studio to develop their series “The Adventures of Illustrator and Reverser”. They thought it was good but both had realised that they wanted to try making a more mature, probably teen targeted, series; (Teen) Titans was their current working title.

The third and second was what they called the residential floors, the right side holding the girls’ dorm while the left had the boys’.The second floor also had rooms they would use for guests though each room also had a pull out couch just in case. Each dorm had a private bathroom with a full bathtub, sink and toilet, full sized room, closet, and computer desk with a comfortable amount of space to rearrange or add their own items. Each floor had their own entertainment system, kitchen and dining room that helped separate the rooms. On the third floor was Marinette, Kagami, Chloe and Alix on one side while Adrien, Luka, Nino and Conner were on the other. The second floor had Alise and Gorilla on the right while Max, Kim, Nathaniel and Marc lived on the left.

The first floor was the entrance, the first part looking like your standard lobby though it still had a mailbox for all its residents for the mailmen to drop off their letters and packages, fully equipped with a detector just in case anything passed any screening before. People could only make it to the elevator if they were accompanied by one of the residents or were identified as welcomed/ not persona non grata by Hecate. The other side of the first floor was the game room; different game systems, DDR system, pool table, darts boards, foosball table, and chess/checkers table were scattered around the remaining space of the room.

The basement was a fully dedicated gym. It had about every machine one would find at a regular gym along with a basketball court and a place for practicing gymnastics though there were nets and safety mats installed along any area where they could have accidents on them.

The first secret floor was where their special gym was, the floor hidden by thick lead underneath the basement. There they had equipment that they could use to train their extraordinary abilities. Any equipment in it was super strength resistant for Conner to blow off some steam without fearing he’d ruin it for his friends. Training dummies were also in their own section for them to train without having to go to the Batcave. There was a place to meditate and find quiet amongst the chaotic building, soundproof but monitored by Hecate. The room was also made to withstand any natural disaster, including a disaster caused by Superman or a rampaging Joker.

Beneath the building was also an underground tunnel, it was connected to the Batcave and could be used to escape in case of an emergency or for a direct route from the cave without having to go out on the surface. There was also another one that was connected to a safehouse where they would meet in case shit really hit the fan. It was big enough for them to use their hidden motorcycles, leave traps for any followers or to run; whichever they had the liberty to do .

“Brucie didn’t pay for everything” Dick laughed

“Yes, Jagged insisted he help with at least the music and art floors” Damian informed them in a monotone voice, though he did try stealing glances from Marinette.

“Plus Lex Luthor may or may not be missing some hidden money that may or may not have been used for all the gym equipment and the labs. Y’know evil guy pocket change” Tim laughed as Luka just snuggled to his little evil genius of a boyfriend.

“Well if he was buying us out I’d say it’s working”

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“He’s conspiring against us”

“How?”

“He’s making his own team of teenagers”

“So you’re saying that Wayne is the Batman? And that he’s making his own teen superhero team?” Flash, Barry Allen, found himself questioning their leader during yet another Justice League meeting at the Hall of Justice.

“Well there have been more vigilante reports in Gotham” Wonder Woman, Diana, added on, looking through the newest blurry photos that the internet was able to scavenge up. Like the other photos they were all blurry and covered them by shadows.

“And Sup— Conner was amongst the children that transferred into Gotham Academy “ he admitted reluctantly, their screens showing the list of all Flying Graysons Foundation Scholarship before narrowing them by those who would be staying in Gotham.

“Conner? But I thought—“ Martian Manhunter asked from his seat.

“All these papers look legal enough,” Barry said as he took a closer look at the copies of the birth certificate and school records for one Conner Kyle.

“We can’t even say these are fake or forged because he never had one to begin with” Diana further admonished though Kal brushed over it.

“And you suspect that the other scholarship students are in on it?” Aquaman, King Orin or Arthur Curry, asked skeptically. The children who had won the scholarship seemed about as average as normal children could go other than the fact that they had different specialities or talents, awards already to their names in recognition and that they attended the same school as the newest Wayne, Kagami.

“Well there’s no evidence that points towards that” Hawkwoman, Shayera Hol, admonished “These are merely children; accusing them of such things is most dishonorable if we have no evidence against them”

“We are well aware of the animosity between the League and the Batman” Red Tornado informed in his normal monotone voice.

“And we know you and Conner had a hard falling out after… All that happened those months back” Starfire, Koriand’r the alien princess of Tamarand and supervisor of the Young Justice, stated as diplomatically as she could.

“Are you sure you aren't blowing this out of proportions? This could just be Superboy moving on with his life. Perhaps he found someone to adopt him as their own” when certain people failed to was the silent addition most could hear out of Diana’s voice.

Barry Allen knew they had a reason to fear these rumors.

If the limited, and he meant the bare minimum, information Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, had told him of the secret alliance of heroes who weren’t part of the Justice League was anything to go by.

He just hoped that they hadn’t done anything to anger these new blood.

AO3 Ko-Fi

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hanamuranobuyuki · 4 years ago

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About the Amanda, Jyushi, Jiro, Love, Life series

Today I thought I would try to give a little bit of insight to the ongoing series right now. It’s surprisingly been a couple of months since I began this journey, and with how much I have planned to write for this, it will probably take a few more until I’ve written all that I have planned out. With the sheer length of these works it does take a long time, so I might have forgotten about a loooot of stuff, but I’ll try to list off the things I remember quq. If you’re interested in reading some of these backstories, you can after the line break^^

For those interested in reading the series as it gets updated, you can read it here! I hope you enjoy this!

To be completely honest, I should have been done with this little excursion after writing Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness. I thought that this much was enough, and I was having low confidence issues as to whether or not things were likable, if they were in character (or somewhat at the very least...) and the list could go on forever.

But ideas kept popping into my head and what was supposed to be disjointed scenes out of everyday life for Jiro and Jyushi as they manage a long distance relationship after only being together for a day turned into Closing the Distance Between Us..... quite comical if you ask me considering the word count just got longer from there *cries into the distance*

But to tell you the truth, I’m happy I continued this journey despite the challenges. I feel like the way I’m progressing through this is giving it a more complete story that embodies the “circle of life and love” I imagine thanks to Amanda’s existence. This is also the reason why I named the series the Amanda, Jyushi, Jiro, Love, Life series. It’s a circle of connections, founded by Amanda, and it branches off into love for Jyushi and Jiro, which betters their life and/or changes it drastically from what it could have been. So with that kinda pushed out of the way, lemme tell you about some good old background info.

1. Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness is not my first Jiroshi fic

... it’s just the first one I’ve completed. After being immersed in the Hypmi fanfic archives and devouring the sweetness that is Jiroshi I started thinking about things I could write. The first one came in the form of Jyushi wearing red lipstick, which to this day I don’t know if I’m making it fluff or more explicit but I was hooked on the idea and... stopped writing 500 words into the work. The second one came in the form of An Outrageous Circumstance. I wasn’t surprised about Buster Bros making an appearance in my strange dreams, but after reflecting on it I realized I could use this and switch Jyushi with me in the dream plot. I fortunately did manage to finish writing that, so if you’d like to read that, you can here.

Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness was born from the concept that Amanda has more of an importance to Jyushi’s life than ever imagined. I wondered, what would happen if Amanda had a soul and supported Jyushi? And from there this was born. Initially I was content with leaving it as it was since I didn’t know just how much power I could give Amanda, but they grew on me so much okay? I practically love Amanda as much as I do Jyushi and Saburo. I can’t produce them tho aha... having Amanda as a support person is one of the best things I could write for Jyushi. And I hope people can enjoy this as much as I have.

2. The soulmates concept is mostly forgotten about 90% of the time for me.

Whenever I write more installments I forget that this is kind of a soulmates au, based on the fact that Amanda can see the fated linkage between Jyushi and Jiro. I always imagine this is kinda like a semi rewrite of canon world but at the same time it’s like it’s own little world quq. But whenever I have to stop and think about how much fluff I need to add and just sequential things like that... the soulmates concept come out. I guess I do have to thank myself for actually remembering about it every once in awhile XD

But I will mention that this fate concept will come out more in some of the newer installments. I have prewritten something a little more into the future that heavily talks about the fated pair deal. I hope you’ll look forward to it!

2.1. Why is Jiro the only one that has a fated string?

I wrote this specifically in Amanda’s point of view. If anyone had a fated string, Amanda would believe this person to be Jyushi’s fated partner, because their duty is to look over Jyushi and make sure he receives the happiness he deserves. Amanda cannot see the fated strings of anyone else in the world, because Jyushi is all Amanda truly cares about. Think of it as a special gift Amanda was gifted by the gods for their journey to giving Jyushi his happiness.

From here, I don’t know what else might be important, but I’ll list off some other things that might’ve been written in notes and other things like that.

3. Jyushi has “graduated” high school.

Jyushi’s school circumstances are kinda strange now that I think about it. THINKING ABOUT IT LOGICALLY, Jyushi should be a third year in high school at his age of 18 (or at least... I thought so lmao). Instead, I’ve given him a job and a life outside of school lol. So I’ll just say Jyushi got into school a little earlier than he should have thanks to his parent’s frequent travels abroad. He was raised by his grandmother most of the time, whenever his parents couldn’t stay in Japan. Around middle school, Jyushi transferred to a middle school that was closer to his grandmother’s residence, rather than feed into the middle school his elementary school was joined with, so then the commute from his grandmother’s residence wouldn’t be as problematic.

Amanda was born around this time, and they got to witness the extremely difficult times Jyushi faced. When Jyushi’s grandmother passes, Jyushi moves in with his aunt and uncle who lived in the next town over. Feeling bad about being a nuisance when they were planning on having a family, Jyushi finds a high school with a boarding plan so he doesn’t have to inconvenience them any more than he did. Along with these plans Jyushi also found part time jobs that were allowed in accordance to the school rules. This is where he finds his passion with making music, which is more than just listening to it and singing in general.

Jyushi was fortunate enough that he had his own dorm. Most of that reason came in the form of his “eccentric personality” which came out a lot whenever he was nervous. He had classmates who talked to him, but he didn’t really have friends. With that said and done, Jyushi quietly progressed through school and quietly graduated around his 18th birthday. He was already set with a job though, with the label he is currently under giving him a contract whilst in his third year of high school. The company officially advertises Argo Kishii Gakudan, and Jyushi becomes the lead singer who produces everything on his own. They gain popularity almost instantly thanks to the copious amount of lives they have done.

Technically, Argo Kishii Gakudan was already a couple years old however. They were made up of Jyushi’s upperclassmen that recognized his talent for music, Takeru, Jun, and Keisuke. You will see more of them in Side N. But because they were so small, and had to pay for all their bookings and everything on their own, going out to share their music, even when they were a hit in their frequent live houses, was nearly impossible. Thanks to the backing of their label, Argo Kishii Gakudan was able to perform around the country and do tours. The fateful one that brings Jiro and Jyushi together is their first one to Ikebukuro.

Jyushi in the current day doesn’t have many opportunities to see his mother and father. They’re successful in their own respective companies, and it shows in the way they send copious amounts of money to Jyushi whenever they can’t meet. Jyushi never has used it though, instead saving it and using only his own earnings from his contract and his previous part time jobs.

Sooo that’s my sorry attempt to document the reason why Jyushi doesn’t attend school lmao. And maybe a little insight on Argo Kishii Gakudan lol.

4. Room settings are soooo difficult to envision, especially whenever they’re different from whatever it is you’re looking at

When I started writing Side: I, and even before when I was writing the ending of Closing the Distance Between Us, I didn’t have the image of Jiro’s room to refer to. How I imagined his room was somewhat drastically different, and thanks to that, I ended up not really giving much of a description to those fics. As of today though, I wrote some hefty descriptions of Jyushi’s room because it’s building up on the imagery I had, in combination to Jyushi’s room in ARB.

You’ll get to read it in the next fic I post from this series. Hope you look forward to it!!

5. Music kinda defines a lot of my inspirations to adding to this series

I listen to music all the time while I’m writing. As a result, there are times I get sidetracked based on songs that come to the shuffle. When I wrote Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness and Closing the Distance Between Us, I shuffled a lot of the Hypmi music into my playlist, with a focus on Moonlight Shadow XD. But then I started writing Side: I, and then I came across a really inspirational song when I watched a Men’s Rhythmic Gymnastics routine. While I don’t really associate with the story this song was for, I love this song enough I played it on repeat for like. 80% of that fic entirely.

There’s a couple lines where Jiro thinks about how some romantic music would be playing in the background if it was a drama of some sorts, and this song was a tribute to the fact I was listening to one song... almost entirely. Please listen to it here.

For Side: I-02, another song was put on replay for a little while as well. I made mention of it in the upload post I did for that fic, but I’ll list it here as well.

I hope you’ll give these tracks a listen one day!

7. Some references kinda inside the fics.

I guess I’ll wrap up this mini list of nonsense by mentioning some things I’ve added into these fics based on inspiration from other things or just in random I guess.

Amanda’s Journey to Bringing Jyushi Happiness: I didn’t know how a love at first sight type of story with soulmates au would work out when I wrote it. I was inspired to write the arcade portion of the date because 1. I wanted to write a kiss segment. And 2. I thought arcade dates would be enjoyable XD.

Closing the Distance Between Us: I never expected this would be in sequential order, like I think I mentioned earlier. I intended on this being more like texting and messaging moments between the two while coping with their long distance relationship. Because of this... I... I don’t really know. I didn’t have an excuse to write this XD I just loved the two and my inspiration was the fuel that was this series? Ahahaha XD

You, Me, and Summer: Side I: a lot of romantic feels fueled this fic, among other things. I was inspired to write a whole lot on Jyushi’s hair routine bc of the tsunami season voice lines on ARB. When I did write this, I was also watching a sports anime called Bakuten. It is a Men’s rhythmic gymnastics anime, and it was what I mentioned when Jyushi watches the anime with Ichiro. The game that they all play is the Game of Life, more or less. I played a few games from the game boy edition just to get a grasp on the game ahaha. But the reason why I added this game was because the ARB event that ran me over with Jiro and Jyushi SSRs. They were event scout SSRs... and the fact that I was drowning in Jiroshi feels only to have MORE thanks to official content even if they weren’t in the same team just made me internally scream and dance all night long.

These two... destroyed my account in more ways than one. I’m now technically a Jiro and Jyushi stan rather than a Saburo and Jyushi stan bc Saburo or Ichiro on that matter never come home. But thanks to this I had to play enough to rank on two accounts. Thus... the one month delay.

Side I-02: because of this event, I decided that they should okay their own human sized Life game. I had to give tribute to the event that wrecked me aha. When I was writing this, I drew something on the side as well. . . And while I’m not sure I like it anymore, I thought I’d share it as well.

One hour of watching the sun rise and not being able to sleep led me to drawing this prototype on a whim. And because I’m a fan of drawing Jyushi’s wardrobe... I thought it would be fun ahaha XD I am a newbie still when it comes to digitally drawing but I am happy at how this turned out!

Finally, I will make mention of the haunted house. While hopping through logs on pixiv, I came across some log that showed how Jiro and Jyushi are scared of scary things, but Jyushi is like a sobbing mess and Jiro is just flat out scared. And later, I heard Jiro react negatively to a horror movie in ARB. When I heard this, I couldn’t resist the temptation! And since technically, Jiro and Jyushi don’t know more about each other than you would think, I thought it was a good opportunity to get them to know something else about them.

Sooo... I think that’s all I can think of right now! I hope you enjoyed learning about some of these small tidbits I could remember when I started working on this series. There’s a lot more to this you can look forward to, and I hope you look forward to it!

I will also apologize in advance for the sheer amount of mistakes there may be. I am my own beta, and I’m usually finishing these up at 5am like clockwork XD whenever I hit a slump in my writing, or miraculously reach the end of this series, I will make sure to clean them up I swear TTuTT thank you for understanding QuQ

If you have any questions, you can ask me here! I’ll try to get to them as quickly as possible. Thank you for taking the time to read this!

#hypnosis mic #aimono jyushi #yamada jiro #jiroshi #amanda-jyushi-jiro-love-life talks #behind the fic #please let me know if you wold like to learn more about any of these fics as I’m uploading them!#I do hope this is enjoyable for you to read!#Thank you for your support QuQ

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busterkeatonfanfic · 5 years ago

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Chapter 5

Buster was feeling withdrawn and almost didn’t show. He’d settled on a night working out a few more gags for the flood scenes and reading a few more chapters of The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, but he was restless. The gags didn’t seem right, his attention kept wandering from the pages of the book. By his third glass of whiskey, an adventure sounded like just the thing he needed to cure the jitters. After all, he reasoned, it would mean a lot to Bert and the hired guys if he put in an appearance, even if it was just for an hour. At around half past nine, he put on his jacket and went down to the Senator’s lobby to have the valet bring the Duesenberg.

Sure enough, the speak-easy was right where they said it was, near the corner of 2nd Avenue and 33rd Street next to a Chinese laundry.

There was no need to knock on the old wooden door midway up the alley. The laughter was loud enough that he could hear the party from out here. He opened the door and let himself in. Everyone was in such a state, it made him look sober. No one noticed him and he was considering a flip-flap to get their attention when a woman’s laughter rang out among all the masculine voices, turning his head. “No, I don’t think so,” she said, quite clearly.

She was standing near the door of a darkened room and the tall blonde workman had her by the elbow. He seemed to be trying to coax her into it where at least two other men waited. Several others ringed the doorway of the room. Something about it didn’t feel right. No one else in the place seemed to notice that anything was amiss; they were caught up in conversation and card games.

“C’mon, we’ll take good care of you,” the blonde man said.

The girl planted her feet, still smiling, but Buster could see she didn’t want to go.

“C’mon, show us your striptease!” said another man, to a peal of laughter from the group.

Her smile faded.

Anger crackled in Buster and he started across the room. “What’s going on here?” he said. Only when he’d reached them did he notice the girl was Nelly, the one who worked in the prop house.

“Buster!” the men all cried, throwing up their hands and smiling like it was just a big game. The tall blonde man didn’t join in, but instead let his arm fall from Nelly’s elbow and gave Buster a contemptuous look, although he immediately followed it up with an innocent smile. “Just having some fun with Nelly, is all,” he said.

“Like hell you are,” said Buster, and the smiles disappeared. “Buster,” said Nelly, looking discomfited and very, very drunk.

“You’re coming with me.” He took her elbow and she stumbled forward, and only then did he realize how bad of shape she was in. She could barely stand up straight.

“Where’re we going?” she said, and he caught her around the waist with both hands as she lost her footing. “Ouch,” she said, trying to look at her right ankle.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, glancing back at the men. The smart ones had sense enough to look abashed. A couple were glowering, including the blonde guy. With three whiskeys under his belt, he had more than half a mind to clean the bastard’s clock.

“Oh,” Nelly said, as she regained her balance. “You don’t have to do that, Bert was going to give me a ride.”

“No, we’re going now. Just where is Bert anyway?” said Buster, realizing he hadn’t seen him.

Nelly shrugged. “Oh, my bag!” she said. “I can’t forget my handbag!”

“Where’s your bag?”

“Behind the bar.” “You stay here, I’ll get it.”

When he had retrieved the little beaded purse and passed it to her, he took her elbow and guided her out the door. She smelled extremely boozy. “How much have you had to drink?” he said, as he led her carefully down the alley and to the street.

“Not nearly enough,” she said. “Gosh, my ankle hurts.”

“Be serious.” He opened the passenger door of the Duesenberg and helped boost her into the seat.

“This is the nicest car I’ve ever been in,” she said, looking around in a kind of glazed wonder. “But I am going to answer your question and that answer is, I am not entirely sure. I think eight drinks, maybe. I had a glass of whiskey and gin. I had some bourbon, too, and some beer. I feel splendid.”

“Hands in the car, I’m closing the door,” he said. He made his way around the front of the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat. “How do you really feel?”

“As gay as a feather,” she said, with a drunk giggle.

“I mean, can you see straight? Is everything spinning?”

“Mmm,” she said thoughtfully, squinting. “Not too badly.”

“If you’re going to be sick, you must tell me, okay? The car is new.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to upchuck in your fancy car. I’ve got better breeding than that.” She patted his arm and said, “I’m hot. Is it too warm? Are you warm as well?”

Any other time, he might have found the situation amusing, but the image of the blonde man trying to persuade her into that room had overpowered any funniness for him.

“You could have lost your virtue back there,” he said seriously.

“Oh, I lost that a long time ago. It’s no big thing. I wouldn’t be telling you this under normal circumstances, but what’s to be done? I’m very drunk you see.” She turned her palms up apologetically.

“I’m not talking about you being willing. Those guys had every intention of—”

“—Buster, I’m not a virgin.”

He took his hands off the steering wheel, unaware he’d been gripping it, and spun toward her in a sudden temper. “Yes, I heard you the first time. You aren’t taking this seriously. They meant to rape you. Can I put it any plainer?”

Nelly went quiet. “I’m sorry,” she said softly after a few moments, seeming to grasp even in her state what he’d saved her from.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, looking away from her, “but if I’d have been ten minutes later, who knows what they may have done.”

Nelly sank down in the seat. “I had too much to drink.”

He reached across the seat to squeeze her upper arm. “You’re not the first girl and you won’t be the last. Now, where do you live?”

“22nd Street. I rent a room there,” she said. She began to unbuckle one of her shoes.

“Address?” he said. He took the car key out of his slacks and put it in the ignition.

“1922, I think. The year Ulysses was published.”

“You think or you’re sure?” he said, turning his head toward her again.

She removed her shoe and sank further down the seat, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m not sure now. It could be 2219. If you take me there I’ll be able to pick it out.”

He wasn’t fond of the idea of driving up and down dark streets waiting for her to choose a house and perhaps choosing wrongly, so he made a decision. “You’re going to sober up some before I take you home.”

Nelly looked uncertain, but she seemed to accept it and made no reply.

“And tell me if you’re going to be sick. I can pull over.”

“I’m fine,” she said, as he turned the key and headed down 2nd Avenue toward Broadway.

It wasn’t the adventure he had been after, but he supposed saving a damsel in distress counted for something. Nellie removed her other shoe and rubbed her ankle. “Would you care if I put down the window?” she said. “I’m so hot.”

“Knock yourself out.”

She rolled it and put her hand out into the night air. To Buster, who had never taken off his jacket, the temperature felt plenty cool. He considered, turning down Broadway, how he was going to look walking into the lobby of the Senator with a girl who couldn’t see straight and taking her up to his room, but he was just going to have to chance it.

A peculiar movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked over. “What are you doing?” he said. Nelly had pulled the skirt of her dress halfway up her thighs and was wrestling with the garter clips of her girdle.

She gave him a guilty look. “I’m hot.”

“Please don’t take off all your clothes. I don’t want a scandal,” he said, only half-joking as he envisioned the lurid headline (‘Dame Caught without a Stitch in Buster Keaton’s Duesenberg’) and Natalie’s hysterical reaction. He thought fleetingly of Virginia Rappe, who would strip any time she had a few drinks in her.

“I’m not, just my stockings,” said Nelly, sounding embarrassed. “They’re suffocating me.”

He turned his eyes back on the road and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, carry on.”

She continued bustling in his peripheral vision and eventually succeeded in rolling down the offending stockings. “It was a mistake to wear these,” she mumbled.

He decided not to answer. He was already thinking ahead to the hotel room. He’d get some coffee and food into her, wait around while she recuperated, then take her straight home. He was forced to look over again when she thrust her hand out the window, gripping her stocking and making it trail in the breeze like a wind sock. “Goodbye,” she said, releasing it.

“Good God, why have you done that?” he said.

“It was a mistake and I’m getting rid of my mistakes.” She dangled the second stocking out of the window for a moment before letting it go, humming to herself under her breath. Fortunately, they were at the Senator in less than ten minutes before his mixture of annoyed and amused tipped further toward annoyed.

“I’m going to let her sober up and then take her back home,” he couldn’t help but say to the valet as he got out of the front seat.

Nelly, to his dismay, chimed in as he helped her out of the car. “He rescued me and I am indebted.”

He put his arm around her waist and helped her into the hotel, she in bare feet with her shoes in one hand and purse in the other. He was relieved to see that the lobby was mostly empty. He made a beeline for the elevator and ignored the attendant manning it. Nelly hummed and looked around, and the attendant gamely pretended she didn’t exist. Blessedly, the coast was clear as Buster took her to his room and unlocked the door. By now, it was approaching ten-thirty. He deposited her on a settee in the salon and rang down for some toast and coffee for two.

“Is there a lavatory here?” said Nelly, when he’d hung up.

He assisted her to it, warning her not to pass out or hit her head because he wouldn’t be coming in to rescue her. His luck held out when she emerged without a scrape. Back in the salon, she stretched out on the light blue velvet sofa with the high back and massaged her ankle. “Okay, the room is spinning now.” Without a word, he set a wastebasket at her feet. “Use that if you need to.” The whole encounter had sobered him up; he didn’t feel the whiskey anymore and poured himself a glass so he could relax. As he sipped, he looked at Nelly. There were two types of drunk girls in his experience, lewd and ridiculous. Nelly was a classic case of the latter. She sat up slightly with her bare knees bent and began reaching into her hair. She pulled out one pin, then another. He watched as tendril after thick tendril tumbled to her shoulders. “Why do you wear your hair long?” he asked.

She smiled. In the light, he could see her mascara was smudged and her eyes had that slightly faraway look of every person three sheets to the wind. “I know, it’s terribly out of fashion, isn’t it?”

He sipped. “I didn’t say that.”

For a moment, she appeared and sounded perfectly sober. “It was my one concession to my mother. She hates the idea of me being an actress and she really hated that I came to California. Before I left, she made me promise that I would never bob my hair. Like Jo March, it’s my one beauty.”

He was about to tell her that wasn’t true, but a knock came on the door. He set the glass of whiskey down and commandeered the tea cart from a reluctant staff member, who wanted to wheel it inside for him. He didn’t care for the man to catch sight of Nelly and her bare legs.

“Do you take sugar or cream?” he asked Nelly, after he’d taken the cart to the sofa. By now, over half of her hair was down, brown and thick and wavy and glossy. He found himself staring and had the blind thought that he was grateful her mother talked her out of bobbing it.

“Cream, please,” she said, still busy with her hair. “Thank you.” She took the cup from him and folded her legs up, pulling her skirt down over her knees.

“So you want to be an actress?” He took off his jacket and laid it on the back of the chair, and picked up his whiskey again.

She gave him a smile that almost looked sad as she sipped the coffee. Her glazed eyes considered him. “That’s the idea. I guess I’ve got a few pounds to get rid of, though. Probably shouldn’t eat that toast.”

He tried not to grimace. “Nelly, if I could take back what I said last week, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You don’t need to lose a single pound and if you don’t eat some toast, I’ll dump you out the window right now.”

“You hurt my feelings that day,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’ve tried not to let it bother me, but I suppose I’m only human.”

He did the only thing he could think of. He stood up, took the coffee out of her hand, set it down, hooked one arm under her knee and the other beneath her back, and lifted her bodily from the sofa. She shrieked in surprise.

“Buster, what are you doing?” she said, kicking her ankles and squealing.

“I am demonstrating to you that you are not heavy is what I’m doing,” he said, looking sternly into her face. “And I won’t set you down until you agree to eat something.”

Nelly gave up and went still. “This is ridiculous,” she said, glaring up at him.

“You’re right,” he said, frowning down at her.

They scowled at each other for a moment or two before the absurdity of the situation struck them at the same time and they broke into laughter.

“Please,” Nelly said, laughing, “set me down please.”

“Promise you’ll have at least two slices of toast.”

“Promise.”

He lowered her back to the sofa. “Good. Raspberry jam or marmalade?”

“Just butter, please.”

He buttered two slices and passed them over to her on a plate. She bit into one obligingly and looked at him. He went back to his whiskey.

After she’d finished one slice of toast, she said, “You have a dimple in your right cheek when you smile.”

He pretended not to have heard her. “You want to be an actress?” he said, picking up the thread of their earlier conversation.

“Doesn’t everyone?” she said, starting on the second piece of toast. She yawned.

“I don’t want to be an actress.”

“Haha,” she said dryly, setting the plate aside after one bite.

“What do you see yourself doing? As an actress.” The whiskey had begun to warm up his blood and he was beginning to like the repartee.

“You really want to know what my dream is?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“Even if you’re just feigning a polite interest, I’ll tell you,” she said. Her hands went back up to the top of her head and another tendril of hair fell to her shoulders. “When I lived in Evanston, that’s where I’m from, I acted at the Vista—that’s our theater—mostly in revues, but I always liked Shakespeare best. I think talkies will change the way they film Shakespeare. Shakespeare’s hardly Shakespeare without the words, you know? That’s what I’ve always thought. You could film in all the places he talks about too, Scotland and Verona.”

He nodded. “So where do you come in? Lady Macbeth or Juliet?”

She shook her head and more tendrils fell. She was almost done unpinning her hair. “Neither. My dream is to play Kate in The Taming of the Shrew.”

He couldn’t remember what that one was about, but didn’t say so. “Who’s the leading man?” He half-expected her to say him.

“John Barrymore, if you must know,” she said. As unfastened another tress, spots of color appeared on her cheeks.

“Hmm,” he said. “Jack? I’d forget about him, he’s a woman-hater.”

Hair all the way freed, Nelly hid her face as she shook it out. “You seem to like trampling my dreams.” She tossed her head back and gathered the curtain of hair over one shoulder with two hands, twisting it.

Buster felt a strange kind of way. Not jealous, that wasn’t quite it, but some kind of way he couldn’t put his finger on. “Trust me on this one. I’m doing you a favor. He drinks like a fish, too.”

“So do you,” she fired back, and he was at a momentary loss for words. He wouldn’t say ‘like a fish,’ but he had been at the bottle more than usual these past few months. He didn’t see how she could have known that though, having met him all of three times.

“Eat the rest of your toast,” he said, changing the subject.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but had another bite. He watched her collect the bobby pins into one hand. She stood up somewhat unsteadily and placed them on the tea cart. “Safekeeping,” she mumbled.

He set the whiskey aside. “How are you feeling now?”

She squeezed her eyes closed. “I don’t suppose more coffee will help with the spinning? I’m starting to feel like I’m on a carnival ride.”

He had a sudden vision of her hurling on the leather seats of the Duesenberg and said, “Why don’t you sleep it off for a couple hours? You can take the bed and I’ll just stay up for now. I was in the middle of a book anyway.”

She looked ready to argue, but a jaw-splitting yawn interrupted her. “Only if I’m not imposing,” she said, after it had passed. Her eyes looked unfocused.

“You’re not imposing,” he said. He knew a girl on the edge of collapse when he saw one. He stood up and offered his arm, and led her into the bedroom. The awkward question of what she would wear to bed was solved when she crawled underneath the blankets, dress and all.

“G‘night, Buster,” she said, closing her eyes. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

After he left the bedroom, the memory of what he’d seen at the speak-easy replayed in his head. Jack Barrymore wasn’t the only woman-hater in pictures. The business was crawling with men, both bigwigs and lowlifes, ready to defile a girl at a moment’s notice. In fairness, it was also crawling with women willing to be defiled in order to get where they wanted to be, but Nelly, not a virgin but not a lewd drunk either, didn’t seem like one. He hoped that she took care of herself wherever she ended up.

Pretty soon his own eyes grew heavy. The idea of waking Nelly and lugging her down to the lobby, waiting for the car to be brought, then driving her all the way home did not sound in the least bit attractive, not to mention the danger of her being sick all over in the car. He pushed the tea cart into the hall so it could be collected and found a spare blanket in the wardrobe. With a wary eye on the sleeping figure in his bed, he took off his shirt and slacks, plucked a pillow from beside her, and settled into the cramped confines of the bedroom sofa. He was asleep before he knew it, dreaming that Peanuts had drowned during the flood sequence and that the papers were calling for him to be hanged. (Listen to the version of “Steamboat Bill” that Nelly dances to here.)

#Buster Keaton #Fan fiction #Fan fic #Silent film #Silent movies #Silent movie stars #RPF #Actor RPF #Real person fiction #Golden Age Hollywood

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alexannah · 6 years ago

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MLB: Fic: Just Keep Digging

I don’t normally post fic straight to tumblr, but this was from a tumblr prompt, so I have. Prompt by @countingdowndays, and then it just kept going ...

Summary: Lila makes a big mistake when showing off one day to the class. But her mistake may turn out to be not such a bad thing for Marinette and Adrien.

Rating: General audiences

Canon/Spoilers: Post-Chameleon (season three); spoilers for Chameleon, The Collector, Gorizilla and Volpina. AU as of Kwami Buster because … well, you’ll see.

(Posted on AO3 and FFnet)

Just Keep Digging by Alexannah

“Your turn, Adrien,” Alya said. “Favourite movie?”

It was breaktime, but raining so hard outside that the sky was almost black. Since the gym was currently occupied by people setting up for an event that evening, all the pupils of François Dupont High School were confined to the other indoor communal areas. Marinette and the rest of her class were in the Literature room, playing an icebreaker game that Miss Bustier had left on her desk.

“Solitude,” he said immediately, a weird smile on his face. The name rang a bell with Marinette, but she couldn’t think why.

There was a slight pause. “Er … I haven’t heard of that one,” Alya said, sounding really surprised that she didn’t know something.

“No, it’s really rare,” Adrien replied.

“Okay … what about it do you like?”

“The lead actress was so good in it. Really amazing. You could really believe she was the character Maria.” He still had a strange smile on his face, a kind of misty expression in his eyes. For a moment Marinette almost wondered if he had a crush on the actress, but decided it wasn’t something romantic at all. She couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Oh, I’ve seen that,” Lila spoke up. “She is good, isn’t she?”

Marinette gritted her teeth as Adrien just nodded distantly.

“And she’s awesome in real life too. Such a lovely person. I’ve met her lots of times.”

Adrien stiffened, but no-one else seemed to notice. Marinette hadn’t seen him do that before when Lila lied; he usually just sort of sighed and ignored it—

Then she finally remembered why the name of the movie sounded familiar, and her mouth fell open.

Oh, no! She doesn’t get to do this! Not his mom! I’m not letting her—

She hadn’t even been aware of rising from her seat in fury, opening her mouth to shut Lila up, but Adrien suddenly touched her arm and shot her a look that clearly said Don’t.

It took all Marinette’s willpower to restrain her protective instincts that wanted to just slam Lila’s lying head into a brick wall.

Lila prattled on obliviously. “… we met a few years ago, and instantly bonded.”

Adrien nodded a little, flooring Marinette. Wait, he wasn’t going to correct her?

“… why, only last week, we had coffee together …”

Marinette ground her teeth, trying so hard to contain her fury, her hands clenched so tightly together her nails were really hurting her palms. Alya kept giving her worried looks.

“Did you, really?” Adrien interrupted. His tone was slightly questioning, but not in a doubtful way—more like he was just having a little trouble comprehending what a good opportunity had come his way. “Last week, you say?”

How does he do that?

“Oh, yes! She’s so nice.”

“Uh-huh.” He paused for a moment. “What’s her name?”

Lila blinked, slightly wrong-footed, and everyone else looked puzzled. “E-er … well, between you and me, she goes by … Maria; you know, after the character she played. Because it was her favourite role.”

It would have been a good save, under any other circumstances.

“I meant her real name.” Finally a little hardness had crept into Adrien’s tone, which seemed to confuse the others. “You must know that, if you’ve met her so much.”

“Um …” Beads of sweat appeared across Lila’s forehead. “Well, right from the beginning, she asked me to call her Maria—”

“So look it up,” he said, now distinctively coldly.

“Er, dude?” Nino asked curiously. “Something wrong?”

Lila fumbled for her phone.

Adrien repeated the film title and the year it was made, surprisingly calmly.

Despite how (albeit unintentionally) hurtful and horrible Lila’s lies had been this time, Marinette could not help feeling a very smug satisfaction as Lila clearly found the right webpage. All the colour drained from her face.

“E-er …” she stammered.

“Yes?” Adrien pressed.

“It’s … Emilie,” she said hesitantly.

“Surname?” he demanded.

She gulped. “A-Agreste.”

Everyone else gasped, and a stunned silence fell.

“So where exactly did you meet my mom last week?” Adrien said clearly, folding his arms. “I’d be very interested to know, especially since no-one else, including me, has seen her in nearly a year.”

Their classmates all turned to stare at Lila, who was now growing steadily more scarlet in the face.

“You know, Lila, after I saw Ladybug deny she had ever even met you, I could have told everyone you were a liar. But I didn’t, because I made the mistake of not thinking it was worth it. I didn’t want to expose you as a liar, because I don’t like hurting people. But what you just did was not cool, and I really wish now I’d told the truth earlier.”

“A-Adrien, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know—”

“That’s not the point. Your lies can hurt people, whether you mean them to or not, and—I wish I’d realised that sooner. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s honest.”

The silence that followed in the classroom was astronomical. Adrien took a deep breath and turned around. “Marinette, I’m really sorry.”

“You’re not the one who has to apologise, Adrien,” Marinette replied, giving Lila a filthy look.

“I mean for not coming forward and backing you up before. Everyone’s been giving you such a hard time because you didn’t buy her tall tales; I should have said something. I wish I had earlier.”

“Y-you were right about her,” Alya stammered. “I’m sorry too, Marinette; I really just thought you were just jea—I mean … I should have trusted you.”

The others started falling over themselves to apologise for not believing her too, everyone speaking at once. Marinette got the gist, however.

“It’s okay, everyone. I forgive you. I know it looked like I was just paranoid. She was good.”

“How did you know she was lying, anyway?” Alya asked.

Marinette flashed back to the time Alya had asked her that recently, remembering that when she had started to reply, she had become flustered out of fear of revealing she was Ladybug. But Adrien’s admitting to what he had witnessed between Ladybug and Lila had just given her an idea.

“I was actually in the park that day.” She turned to look at Adrien. “When you and Lila were together, and then Ladybug turned up?”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want to say anything, since it was that incident which turned her into Volpina. But now everyone knows about it anyway …”

“You were really there?” Adrien asked, sounding confused.

Marinette could practically hear Alya thinking Yeah, totally spying on you, dude, behind her smirk.

“Y-yeah. I, er …” Marinette quickly searched for an explanation that was less humiliating than admitting she had gone all green-eyed monster, and remembered the other reason why she had been there. “I saw you two in the library earlier, just when she stole your book.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?” He turned quickly to Lila.

“I followed her, intending to confront her about it. I saw her looking at it, then go into a jewellery store and come out again with that necklace she passed off as a Miraculous.” Which was the truth.

“Which she then used to try and make me believe she was really descended from a superhero,” Adrien said slowly.

“Wow, Lila,” Alya said, sounding disgusted. “Marinette was right; everything that comes out your mouth is a big fat lie.”

Lila burst into tears, but Marinette was not in the least bit sympathetic. Nor, it seemed, was anyone else.

“Wait—so you took my father’s book?” Adrien said suddenly, looking back at Lila. “The one I was grounded for losing?”

Uh-oh. Marinette realised the great flaw in her plan. Yes, Lila had taken it, but then Marinette had stolen it from her …

“Uh …” Lila stammered.

“Does that mean—you’re the one who—”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I’ll—I’ll tell him it was me, okay? I just panicked when I saw you coming and dropped it in the bin—”

“What?”

Marinette mentally facepalmed. She had really dug herself in deep this time.

“I’ll buy him another copy!” Lila cried.

“It’s one of a kind,” Adrien said, staring at her in complete confusion. “And he said one of my friends had found and returned it.”

There was a slight pause, then all heads turned to Marinette, who flushed deeply.

“I saw her drop it in the bin, so when you were gone I retrieved it,” she said awkwardly.

Adrien frowned. “Why didn’t you just give it back to me?”

“Um …” Because my Kwami made me show it to the Guardian of the Miraculous, who said he thought Hawk Moth owned it, so then I thought you might be a supervillain, and then I suspected your dad, and then after he was akumatized Cat Noir and I concluded it couldn’t have been him, so I went back to Master Fu, who took a photograph of every page before I gave it back to your dad.

But she could hardly say all of that.

“… I got distracted looking through it?” she tried desperately. “It was very cool, all those pictures of superheroes. And … when I heard you got in trouble for it, I went to return it; but on the way I saw on the news your dad had been akumatized, so I thought I should probably wait until Ladybug and Cat Noir had sorted him out.”

Adrien was now looking at her very strangely, and she wasn’t sure she could read his expression anymore. Her lie had been plausible, right?

“Well, this has been interesting,” Nino said, breaking the now really awkward silence. “What are we going to do about her?”

They all looked back at the red-faced Lila.

“Nothing,” Adrien said finally. “Knowing we all know she’s a liar is punishment enough.”

Apparently unable to handle the glares from them all anymore, Lila scrambled to her feet and fled the classroom. Marinette wondered if she would find another way of avoiding school for months, and hoped she would.

For a few moments no-one spoke. Adrien finally mumbled an excuse and left the classroom. Marinette was just wondering whether or not to follow him, to make sure he was okay, when Alya grabbed her arm.

“So … you knew Lila was talking about Adrien’s mom, right?”

Marinette nodded. “Um, you remember the day Adrien and I were pursued through Paris by his adoring fans …”

Alya giggled, nodding.

“Well, he had snuck out to see that movie. We only managed to make it through the first few seconds, however, before the fan mob caught up with us. And then his bodyguard was akumatized, and things got kind of chaotic from there.”

While the girls who had been following Marinette and Adrien’s internet trail that day all giggled, she looked back at the closing door, and made her decision. “I’ll be right back. I just want to check on Adrien.”

She received an I’m sure you do smirk from Alya, and knowing grins from everyone else.

It took a while to find him, but finally she came across him sitting on a bench in the locker room. He was hunched over, muttering something apparently to himself, looking quite lost and sad.

“Adrien?”

He jumped and looked up. “Oh—Marinette.”

“Are you okay?” She sat down next to him, and after a moment’s hesitation put her arm around his shoulders. He tensed slightly, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake, but after a second he relaxed, and even leaned towards her slightly.

“Not particularly. I’m really sorry, Marinette.”

“It’s not your fault. I know you just wanted to take the high road.”

He nodded. “I did. But it wasn’t the right decision. I realise that now. I wish it hadn’t taken that for me to see her lies could be really hurtful. If I hadn’t known she was a liar already … I could have actually have believed her for a moment.”

“I don’t think you’re that gullible, Adrien. Um, not that I’m saying everyone else is gullible. But knowing what you knew about your mom … I don’t think you would have fallen for that.”

“I’ve spent the last year wanting to believe my mom’s out there somewhere. If I had been taken in, even for a moment …” His voice cracked.

“Realising it was a lie would have been unspeakably horrible,” Marinette supplied quietly.

Adrien nodded, closing his eyes. “I … suppose I owe Ladybug one for exposing her.”

Marinette felt the safest thing to say at this point was “Mm.”

He rubbed his eyes—Marinette wondered if he was wiping away unshed tears—and sat up straighter, opening them. She reluctantly withdrew her arm from his shoulders, sensing now was the moment to do so.

“Speaking of Ladybug … Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Marinette said immediately, hoping desperately it wasn’t going to be something awkward for her to answer.

“Well … when my father became The Collector …” Adrien hesitated. “I … heard that Ladybug and Cat Noir actually showed up at my house before they knew he had been akumatized,” he said very slowly.

“Th-they did?”

“Yeah.” Adrien’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her. “I never really thought about the timing, but … now you mention it … my father did have a book on superheroes …”

“Um, so?”

“I was just wondering if maybe … Ladybug somehow knew about the book?”

Marinette gulped. “Um, maybe you could ask her?”

There was a long pause while he gave her a hard look.

“I think I am.”

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! He can’t mean—he can’t know I’m Ladybug!!! Marinette panicked.

“Wh-what, you mean me?” she squeaked, not sounding very convincing to her own ears. “Me, be Ladybug? Only in my dreams! Um, I mean … Of course I’m not Ladybug! I’m a total klutz!”

“True,” he agreed, and Marinette wasn’t sure she liked his agreement. “A very endearing klutz,” he added with a small smile, and she felt a little better. “But maybe magic superhero powers can make people seem … different? Ladybug could be really clumsy in normal life.” He paused. “Cat Noir could be a really shy insecure guy who has trouble standing up to people.”

“Cat Noir, shy? Pfft, yeah right—um,” Marinette added quickly, “I mean … it doesn’t seem very likely to me.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “So if I were to tell you I have reason to believe Ladybug and Cat Noir came to my house because they suspected my father might be Hawk Moth …?”

Marinette’s eyes widened.

Wait. How does he know that??? Neither of us saw him that day! And we never said anything about that to anyone else in the house—

“Th-they thought your dad was Hawk Moth?” she stammered. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Though obviously he wasn’t. But that’s why they were there. I think.”

He seemed to be waiting for something, but Marinette wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting.

“Well … that’s good,” she tried. “I mean, it’s bad they still don’t know who Hawk Moth is—as far as we know, anyway—but a good thing for you it’s not your dad. I’m very glad it’s not your dad.” And that was the truth. At the time she had been so relieved that Adrien was not Hawk Moth, she hadn’t given much thought as to how bad his father being a supervillain would be for him. It hardly bore thinking about. She couldn’t express how relieved she had been later, once the thought had occurred, that they had ruled him out.

“Thanks. Me too.” He hesitated again. “So … did you happen to show that book to anyone? Anyone who might have thought that, because my father owned a book all about Miraculouses …?”

Marinette swore in her head. He was onto her, she knew it. If she said ‘no’, he would only have more reason to believe she was Ladybug. But if he said ‘yes’, he might ask who she had shown it to, and think that person was Ladybug! And then what would she say?

She tried deflecting the question. “Are you sure that’s what Ladybug and Cat Noir were doing there? Maybe they have some way of sensing when someone is akumatized. Or about to be akumatized.”

“They don’t,” he said shortly, with a little too much conviction for her liking. “I-I mean … if they did, wouldn’t they have been on the scene much quicker with all the other villains?”

“Well, maybe they were at your house for another reason. Maybe they’re fashion fans?” It sounded like a really lame reason even to her. Even if she knew that it was true for Ladybug at least.

“Or maybe you are Ladybug and you’re just trying to make me think you’re not.”

Shoot.

Adrien leaned towards her slightly. “What if I promised you,” he said quietly, taking her hand in his, “that I can keep a secret?”

Marinette was finding it really hard not to get completely flustered by the fact he was holding her hand! “I-I’m not Ladybug!” she squeaked. He raised his eyebrows. “A-and aren’t superheroes n-not supposed to tell anyone who they are?”

“And how would you know that if you weren’t one?” he said, his tone slightly teasing.

“You know I’m best friends with Ladybug and Cat Noir’s biggest fan, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” A light seemed to come on in Adrien’s eyes. “A big fan who has managed to get the elusive Ladybug to personally appear on her blog voluntarily more times than any other media outlet.”

“S-so? Lots of people like the Ladyblog! It’s not strange that Ladybug likes it too! She obviously has good taste.”

Adrien seemed to consider that. “Maybe not perfect taste. After all, from what I can see, she isn’t into Cat Noir.”

“Maybe she prefers a different kind of boy to the one that’s always showing off,” Marinette said before she could stop herself.

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? What kind of boy would that be?”

“I-I don’t know … someone like you?” she blurted, then groaned and buried her head in her hands. I cannot believe I just said that!

There was a long silence.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Does he know I like him? Argh! And I thought him figuring out I was Ladybug was bad!

Okay, that’s bad too. But if he doesn’t feel the same way, this will be completely humiliating!

“Marinette?”

She couldn’t look up. Couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. His gorgeous green eyes.

“Marinette … do you like me?”

“Um …” She tried to gather her thoughts before finally looking up. “Of course! I mean … we’re friends, of course I like you!”

She couldn’t read the look in his eyes, but was sure he wasn’t buying it. However, he didn’t appear to have been completely repulsed by the thought of her liking him, so that was something.

In fact, he seemed to have moved closer to her without her noticing. They were only centimetres apart.

“I meant as more than a friend,” he said gently. He sounded … hopeful?

Hopeful was good. Hopeful meant … he did like her too???

Marinette swallowed nervously. “U-um … m-maybe?” she said, feeling herself go scarlet.

There was a pause. “So … if I told you I had a crush on Ladybug …”

WHAT???

“… would it bother you, or make you happy?” he said, a smile playing on his lips.

Marinette’s first thought was he was messing with her, trying to gauge whether she really was Ladybug. But Adrien wasn’t like that! He wouldn’t toy with her feelings, especially not just to find out her secret. Did that mean he really did have a crush on Ladybug???

There were three ways she could play this. She could pretend to be disappointed … then go and see him later transformed, tell him that Marinette had told her he liked her …

Right. Like he wouldn’t see through that instantly. And even if he doesn’t, that leaves me possibly dating him as a superhero, which would not really be good for his safety once people found out!

The second way would be to quickly deny she had feelings for him after all, and just … not be with him. At all. Ever. This option did not appeal in the least.

That just left being honest.

“Adrien …” she said faintly.

He gently cupped her cheek with his hand, and she felt like she was going to faint. “For the record, I think I’ve figured out how to tell when you’re lying.”

Well, that sold it. If she couldn’t get out of this him-suspecting-she-was-Ladybug thing, what was the point in trying?

“You can’t tell anyone.”

His face lit up, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “You are Ladybug. I knew it!”

“D-did you really mean it when you said … y-you had a crush—”

“You already know the answer to that question,” he said, then very deliberately, “milady.”

“I think Cat Noir wouldn’t like you calling me that.”

He grinned. “You really think so? Bugaboo?”

Did he just—

For a moment Marinette was startled, then remembered Cat Noir had called her that plenty of times in public and on air.

“Very funny.”

He frowned slightly. “Er … what?”

“Um, I don’t know if you realise this, but he’s … kind of got a crush on me too. It’s not just playful flirting. So out of respect for his feelings … perhaps calling me what he calls me is not the best idea?”

To her astonishment, Adrien burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Marinette demanded, face heating up again. Oh goodness, had this all been some kind of joke? Had he been teasing her all along? She turned away, hiding her face again, completely mortified.

“Marinette! Sorry, I didn’t mean—I just thought you’d have figured it out by now. You’re the smart one, after all.”

“You—what? Figure what out?”

“Well for starters, how I knew Ladybug and Cat Noir thought my father might be Hawk Moth.” Her head shot up. “And,” he added, “why … I suggested Cat Noir might be … a bit different when he’s not being Cat Noir.”

Marinette stared at him, numb in disbelief, as what he had said slowly sank in.

Adrien hesitantly leaned in even closer. “With your permission, milady?” he whispered.

She responded with an unintelligible noise which he apparently took for an affirmative. Adrien closed his eyes and kissed her.

It was the best moment of her entire life.

When they parted, Marinette slid off the bench in a dead faint.

The End

Author’s Notes:

I’m tempted to write a sequel one-shot dealing with everyone else’s reactions to their relationship, but not sure if I have enough material for it. We’ll see.

This had not been meant to turn into a reveal fic! When the subject of Lila’s lies about Ladybug came up, I couldn’t resist bringing up the book, and then Adrien putting two and two together … Three times during writing this, I found I kept going beyond where I had planned to end it. But I’m very happy with the result! My first (finished and posted) reveal fic.

@bowser14456 @gajer-1226 @sturchling @melicmusicmagic @g-arya @legallyspawned. New to tagging, couldn’t make @officialmiraclequeen work?

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #adrienette #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #lila liar #miraculous identity reveal

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xpialidoxy · 5 years ago

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No longer mine (Bruce Banner Imagine)

Bruce walked with Tony side by side. Tony had his check up in the hospital today so Bruce went out with him. Just when they were about to leave the hospital, Tony spotted you.

"Hey Y/N!"

Bruce's looked into the direction where Tony was looking at and there, he saw you.

There it was, that familiar glow of the room when you're in it. Just like before, you were shining.

You seemed a bit surprised to see them but you quickly changed that shocked expression into a happy one. You jogged to them and flashed them a huge smile. "hey!"

"Wow! It's really you! How long has it been??" Tony said, obviously so happy.

"Three years I think?" You offered a hug to Tony and the same with Bruce. "I didn't expect to bump into you two here."

Bruce was taken aback. He was so surprised to see you here. After 3 years, you two have finally crossed paths. You look the same, but no matter how much he looks at your pictures before, they were nothing in compared to seeing you right now.

Bruce watched as your eyes fell on him, making him hold his breath. "Hi Bruce, how are you?"

Tony and Bruce were both surprised to see you acting cool about it. Like nothing has happened.

"Great." Was the only thing that Bruce can say.

Tony decided to save his science bro and decided to take your attention instead. "Why are you in the hospital?"

You shifted your gaze from Bruce to Tony, smiling once again. "I—"

Suddenly, your phone rang and you quickly answered it. "Yes! I'm on my way there." You looked at the two of them with sorry filled eyes. "Sorry but I really need to go."

The science bros nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

"I'll drop by the tower one of these days, I have something to tell you guys." You simply said before you went running away.

Bruce was left speechless, watching as you disappeared into the crowd. Tony just watched his friend who missed you so much for those three years.

"You know, it's been 3 years and I still don't get why you broke up with her." When Tony said that, Bruce was reminded of that night.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I don't love you anymore." He still remembers saying those hurtful things.

That night when he finished everything between the two of you. That night when you cried in front of him, begging him to take back the things he said.

The only night that you weren't shining, and it was all because of him.

"Clearly, you're still in love with her. So why don't you run after her and tell her you were wrong. That she really was the one for you?" And with that, Bruce glared at Tony and started walking away.

Bruce was busy tinkering with his new upgrade for the hulk buster a while ago, but now he's just staring into space.

Seeing you at the hospital today made him remember all of his memories of you.

The night when you first danced together in one of Tony's parties. Where you two first kissed.

The night where you two walked in the streets, your fingers locked with his, the moon and stars shined on both you and him.

The mornings where you wake him up by giving him a gentle kiss on his cheeks.

Even remembering your favorite movie made his heart ache.

But these thoughts disappeared when an annoying Tony Stark came rushing into the lab.

"BANNER!" Bruce jumped in surprise and his eyes tinged green. Tony stepped back when he saw this. "Oh no. No! No! Don't hulk out! I have news!"

Bruce tried to calm himself down as he looked at his monitor wherein Tony placed an article about some doctor, an anesthesiologist. But what caught Bruce's attention was your name and your picture standing side by side with the doctor.

World-renowned Anesthesiologist is Getting Married

Bruce took his glasses to read the article.

"That's why we bumped into her in that hospital." Tony commented. "Her..." he contemplated before talking again because he was a bit uncomfortable to say the next words. "Her fiancé works there. It looks like they've been together for two years. They worked together in another hospital.

Two years. She's moved on from me for two years. He couldn't help but think. It's been three years and he's still in love with you.

"What's interesting is that, that anesthesiologist suffers from a rare disease and it's very rare for patients to live for more than 25 years. But look at him! He's even a doctor and a world renowned one at that!" Tony can't stop his rambling.

Bruce scrolled the article as he saw pictures of you and the guy laughing and staring at each other. You looked genuinely happy... and in love.

His heart was beating so fast, he didn't even know why it was beating so fast.

The day went on in the tower, and now, it's finally time to eat dinner. Clint was the last one to join them, he was running when he came in.

"Guys! Have you heard the news?" He said as he hurriedly went to Tony. " Y/N's getting married to a world-renowned anesthesiologist! Their love story is all over the internet!"

"Really?" Tony stood up, not being able to read the whole story yet, he took Clint's phone.

"Yes, apparently, the doctor fell in love with Y/N at first but never tried to make any move. It was Y/N who initiated it and the doctor rejected her twice."

Steve opened his mouth, eyes on Bruce who stopped eating, "uhh... guys... can you not talk abou—"

"TWICE?!" Tony shouted upon reading it. "Because the doctor didn't want her to get hurt if something happens to him." He reads on. Thor stood from his seat and went to the two guys to read the article too.

Bruce gulped and placed his spoon and fork down.

"They look so in love, don't they?" Clint said once more.

"I agree." - Thor

"He stares at her as if—" Clint was about to say once more but Natasha cut him off.

"Clint, it might be better for you to sit and eat."

And with that, Clint lifted his gaze from his phone, Nat jerked her head to Bruce's direction whose eyes were now focused on his plate.

Clint looked to the doctor and immediately realized that Bruce joined them for dinner tonight, which was very rare because he mostly spends his whole night in the lab, his eyes widened and he cleared his throat.

"Uhm." He exhaled. "...right," slowly making his way to his seat.

The whole room went quiet, and Bruce was aware that they were expecting him to say something. He was aware that everyone was looking at him.

Bruce gulped and decided to stand from his chair. "Good for her." He said softly then began to leave the dining room.

Bruce went to his room and let himself fall to his bed. He buried his face in his pillows as he tried to get those thoughts out of his mind, but it wouldn't work. He unconsciously reached for his drawer and took a velvet box out of it. He opened the box and stared at the ring.

A ring that he was supposed to give you before.

4 years ago...

He bought the ring yesterday, and now he went to your home to get your father's blessing. He was so excited to marry you.

But, unlike his expectations, your father wasn't very happy about the idea. Instead of giving his blessing, he even pleaded Bruce to let you go.

"I want a normal life for my daughter." He pleaded. "She's suffered enough when she lost her mom, I don't want her to suffer anymore."

Bruce closed his eyes and threw the box.

The next day, everyone were silent while having breakfast. Clint still looked sorry after what he did last night, and Tony had this look in his face as if he's contemplating.

He finally gave in and sighed. "Guys... uhh.." his eyes linger on Bruce for a brief second. " Y/N's going to drop by tonight."

Everyone's head shot up and looked at Tony. Nat raised her eyebrows on him.

"She said she has something to give us.. uhm.. I was wondering if we could ask her to have dinner with us? I don't want to send her off just like that, it's been three years since we last met her."

"Tony." Nat warned, knowing how this affects Bruce.

Clint sighed and stared at Bruce. "I agree.. I don't think it's a good idea."

Tony looked at Thor. "but I miss Lady Y/N."

Tony looked to Steve who just stared at Bruce.

"Sure, why not?" The scientist said, faking a smile. A smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Their faces changed. "What?"

"It's been three years. And I do agree that we can't just send her off just like that. She's..." Bruce stopped for a moment. "She's Y/N, not just anyone. She's friends with everyone here."

"Right, I was about to say that." Clint said cheerfully. "I agree," looking so excited, his smile might rip his face.

"Alright! I'll tell her." Tony said and took out his phone, looking happy.

Nat and Captain on the other hand looked at Bruce worriedly, and Thor... Thor just continued on eating, seemingly happy upon hearing what Bruce just said.

So that's how you ended up here, in front of him, inside the tower, flashing everyone with a friendly smile.

Clint hurriedly pulled you for a hug. " Y/N! I missed you!"

You chuckled to your best and hugged him back. "I missed you too, Legolas."

Tony grinned and offered a hug. "and that's why I missed you."

"Missed you guys too."

Finally, your eyes set on Bruce and it was as if he was brought back to three years ago, when you two were still together.

"Hi Bruce," you said, offering a hug. Bruce gulped and hesitantly accepted the hug. Wondering how something that used to be so familiar to him felt so distant.

Tony and Clint stared at each other with wide eyes.

"It's been a while, have you been well?" You asked more, in which Bruce nodded.

You were still shining in his eyes; it seems like you were able to lit up the whole tower. For years, he felt like the tower seemed darker but now that you're here, it's no longer dark.

"Yes," He managed to answer, he brushed his hand to his hair. "I see you've been well too?"

"Thankfully."

Bruce bit his lip and slowly nodded, eyes still examining you. "That's good."

You both stood there, staring at each other but with different expressions on your faces. You look genuinely happy while Bruce looked like longing for you. And everyone except you knew this. How sad Bruce's eyes looked, he looked like he has something more to say than what he said.

They were right, he did have so much more to say. He wanted to ask you how everything ended up like this. But he already knew the answer to that, he knew it was his fault. He was the foolish one. For pushing you away, for hurting you so much that you will never think of coming back again, but still wanting to have you in his arms again.

Clint knew that he needed to get everyone's attention, because you two have been staring at each other for a while now.

"Sooo," he said loudly, getting everyone's attention. "Did you come alone?"

"Oh right," You said. "I told Yohan I'll drop by, he said he'll try to drop by too after he finished work."

Yohan

You said his name sweetly, you even giggled. "I don't think he'll be able to make it though, he has so many things to do."

"That's understandable, he's a world-renowned anesthesiologist." Tony said.

You giggled once again. "Please stop saying that, he hates it."

You imagine Yohan's face whenever you call him that, it makes him uncomfortable and slightly cringe. He would glare at you like a child or playfully attack you to stop you from calling him that.

Your imagination was not a secret to everyone, as they watch how you giggled to yourself, they realized you've been thinking about the doctor.

And Bruce couldn't help but to feel a sting in his heart, watching how you were so happy.

"Oh! Here are your invitations." You opened your bag and took out your wedding invitations and gave it to everyone.

Bruce stared at the card in his hand, staring at your picture and your husband-to-be.

"He's really busy these days so I don't think he'll make it to dinner."

"That's what you're going to tell them?" A voice said, making you all turn around.

There, you saw your fiancé standing with his hands in his pocket.

"Yohan!" He was wearing your favorite black t-shirt of him that makes him look so good. You ran to him and he stared at you with joy in his eyes. "I didn't think you'd make it."

He smiled boyishly and ruffled your hair. "I wouldn't miss a chance to meet your friends. Besides, it's not like you're the only one getting married here." He whispered to you.

You smiled at him, you can't help but feel your heart flutter in his words. He took your hand in his.

"So, are you going to introduce me to them or not?" He added when you just stood there, staring at him.

"Right! Sorry." You remembered, making him chuckled. You pulled him by your hand that was holding his own.

"Guys, this is Yohan, my fiancé. Yohan, they're the avengers."

Yohan extended his hand to everyone. "Nice to meet you."

"Tony Stark." Tony said, shaking Yohan's hand.

"Clint Barton."

"Thor,"

"Steve Rogers,"

"Natasha."

And at last, Yohan's gaze fell to the other doctor.

You bit your lip, being reminded of the times when Yohan would playfully tell you he's jealous with your ex.

"Nice to meet you Dr. Banner." Yohan said with a huge smile in his face.

"Nice to meet you too."

After they shook hands with each other, Yohan returned to your side, hand resting on your back.

"Let's go have some dinner." Tony said.

All throughout the dinner, you two were asked by the group. Laughing and joking with each other, they seem to like your fiancé, and the feelings were mutual.

All throughout the dinner, Bruce watched how Yohan stared at you. He always had a smile on his face whenever he looks at you, and he smiles even bigger when he hears your voice.

When the dinner was over, Tony, Clint and Thor snatched you away from your fiancé while captain and Nat left to meet Fury.

Bruce was left to clean up. "You should probably head upstairs, I bet Tony took her to show off his new suits."

Yohan stood up. "No, I'll help you."

The scientist smiled a little, trying so hard to send him away. "You're our guest, you sho—"

But before he can even finish what he was saying, Yohan already started cleaning the table. "It's okay, really."

Bruce just nodded and whispered. "Okay,"

It was awkward, they both know it. They became busy with what they were doing and there was a long silence between the two of them.

"I understand why you did it." Yohan said, getting Bruce's attention.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Her father talked to me too. He begged me to do the same thing." While saying this, Yohan looked at Bruce, who was shocked with what he heard.

"To tell you the truth, I almost did the same thing. But I talked to her about it," Bruce was now staring at the other doctor, who smiled when he was reminded of that time. "She had the right to know, it was our relationship and I don't get to decide by myself."

He chuckled. "She told me she's willing to fight it with me rather than avoid it. Y/N's so much stronger that what you think, Dr. Banner."

"Just like you, I'm scared of what may happen in the future, I'm scared she'll only get hurt. But... I'm more scared of losing her." Yohan sighed. "So, I decided that as much as I can... I'll make her happy."

Bruce smiled upon hearing that. Realizing how he's so much better than him.

"Hey! Yohan you stop that!" Tony yelled, taking the plates away from Yohan.

"You're our guest." Clint agreed.

The four have returned, ending the conversation between the two doctors.

When you had enough time to check on your friends, you finally decided to leave. Reminding everyone that they should come to your wedding.

Bruce watched as you left hand in hand with Yohan, nearly collapsing to the man while saying how tired you are. Your fiancé just laughed at you and held you close to him.

"You know my loyalty to you, Bruce. I wanted to hate him but I can't. He's too kind and funny and good-looking." Tony said to Bruce.

The day of your wedding came, Bruce hesitated to go. He can't attend it, he can't watch you getting married to someone else... but he ended up doing so. Now, he was at your wedding's reception. A slow song played while he was standing at the center of the room.

Across the room, you watch him. Then, you felt someone holding your hand. "Dance with him." Your fiancé's familiar voice said and you looked behind you, smiling at him.

"What? No." you chuckled. He shook his head and held your hand.

"He's been a big part of your life, Y/N. And I understand that. At least dance with him for the last time?" You stared at him and your heart swelled, you were really lucky to have met him. You stood on your tip toes and hugged him.

"I love you, I really do. So much." You told him.

He rubbed his hand on your back, hugging you tight. "I know you do, and I love you too. I know you still have some things to tell him, so go on."

When you two pulled back from the hug, you slowly approached Bruce. The man whom you used to love so much. You tap his shoulder with your fingers and he turned around, looking so surprised to see you standing in front of him.

You can't help but smile at his reaction.

"May I have this dance?"

"Can I have this dance?" That's what you asked him when you two first danced together.

Bruce felt the same thing he felt that night. The excitement and the happiness.

You watched as he sighed to himself and bit his lip, his eyes turned soft while staring at you, before saying. "Sure."

"Sure." He answered you that night, and the rest was history.

Well tonight, it really is just a history. A history of what you two, buried under memories.

Slowly, you two started to dance to the song. Tony and the others spotted this and watched across the room.

"Congratulations." Bruce said while looking at your eyes. He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes, he was slowly realizing that this isn't the same as your first dance. For this time, this time might be his last dance with you.

"Thank you. Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it." Bruce nodded at you and you two stared at each other for a long time.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said all of a sudden. "I'm sorry for telling you those hurtful words before. I don't know if it will change anything but I want you to know that I didn't mean any of it."

You nodded at him. "I know." You sighed. "I realized why you did that, apparently, my dad asked Yohan to do the same thing."

"It all went wrong when I did that. I've always regret making that decision."

"You should've talked to me about it, instead of deciding what you think is best for the two of us. You didn't even give me a chance to decide and to fight for our relationship." You finally get if off your chest, that's what you've been wanting to say. "I wished you believed in me, even for just a little. I could've handled it. That's what a relationship is all about."

Bruce suddenly felt his tears threatening to fall, but he didn't want you to see him crying. He didn't want to make you feel bad, especially in this special day. "Can I hug you for the last time?"

You couldn't help but to feel your heart sting when you heard the sadness in his voice. So, you nodded. "Of course."

Right after you said that, he hugged you. Tightly. His tears started falling but he remained calm. You two danced like that.

"You know I loved you right? So much. And I still do." He said, whispering those words with his mouth on your head.

You nodded and hugged him back. "I know. And I loved you. So much. I never thought I'll ever love someone just as much as I loved you."

You rubbed small circles on his back. "But Yohan made me realize that I can. I love him so much Bruce, I don't think I can ever live without him. He believes in me more than I believe in myself."

"I can see that. I know how much he loves you, it's written all over his face." Bruce said making the two of them chuckle. "I'm really happy for you."

"You'll meet someone else who will make you realize that you can love again. Someone who might not be able to take the pain away, but someone who's willing to be in pain with you. Because that's what love is, Bruce. Understanding a person's pain is understanding that person."

"I don't know... I don't think I can love someone as much as I loved you."

Hearing that, you pulled away from the hug to look at him face to face. You held his hand using your left hand, and held his cheek by your right hand. "Trust me, you will."

Bruce nodded at you as he looked behind you, "let's bring you back to your husband." And he smiled. This time, his smile reached his eyes. He took your left hand with him and drag you towards Yohan.

"Thank you for taking care of her. Please be happy for the rest of your lives."

Yohan stared back at Bruce. "We will. Thank you for taking care of her too."

Bruce stared at your hand that he was holding. He breathed in deeply before finally giving your hand to your husband.

He's letting you go. For real.

And when he let go of your hand, he smiled at you and your husband. Before leaving the two of you to share your dance.

Bruce watched as the people cheered when you two danced. You buried your face to your husband's chest and you were crying while holding tightly to him.

At that moment, you two were shining. As if you two were really meant to be together.

Bruce glanced for the last time, before he turned his back and started to leave the room.

For three years he still has this lingering feeling, hoping that maybe he'll meet you again, and maybe you two can start again. For three years he still thinks that you're still his.

But today, today he puts an end on it as he thought.

"You're no longer mine."

Your somebody else's now.

#bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #brucexreader #bruce x reader #hulk

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monaisme · 4 years ago

Text

One Week Later - Chapter Three

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

“Well, if I didn’t think the man was an asshat before...” Mr. Stark growled as he disconnected from the call and sat back on the couch next to a freshly wakened Peter. “Seriously! He told me to call when we were ready and now he’s all ‘call Wong—I’m busy.’ He’s the keeper of the freakin’ Time Stone and he can’t bother to find a few minutes between balancing chakras and making avocado paste to follow through on a promise?!”

Peter could sympathize with Mr. Stark’s frustration, but was definitely less vocal about it. He’d hoped he’d get a chance to see Dr. Strange specifically so he could thank the man for at least getting him back to Earth after the whole ‘thing,’ but he guessed he’d have to wait until they got back to New York.

Mr. Stark, it seemed, was just getting started though. “I mean, he just hung up! I don’t even have Wong’s number! How am I supposed to—?”

FRIDAY popped in from the device in his hand, “Boss, may I remind you that I can easily—?”

“Not now, FRI!” He gesticulated wildly, “I want to vent and you’re messing with my flow!”

“Tony, be kind.” Ms. Potts—um, Mrs. Stark chastised her husband from the adjoining bedroom where she was packing up her and Mr. Stark’s belongings. “All the wizards have been playing travel agent while everyone gets sorted and you know this. He can take a break if he wants to. We’ll just call Wong like he asked and be done.”

Mr. Stark scowled at the suggestion. “But Pep, I wanted to talk to him before we left. You know this!” He whined. “An entire universe knows we’re here, and we’ve just kicked some serious ass! We need to coordinate as soon as we get back, make sure that we have a plan in place for the next—”

“You’ll do no such thing, buster! You know that Bruce and Steve will have returned the stones by the time we’ve returned, so stop being difficult. He’s signed on to do the whole ‘Avengers’ thing...” She popped her head out the door and gave him a pointed look. “Whereas you, Anthony Edward Stark, are retired. You have other priorities in your life now.”

They shared a significant look then, and if Peter had been paying attention, he’d have probably noticed it but—well, Peter’s brain was still warring between finding the motivation to get up off the couch versus never getting up again.

He knew what Mr. Stark had said earlier was true, and appreciated the fact that he was fully in Peter’s corner; but now that he was calmer... uh, visibly calmer, he had to start figuring stuff out, asap.

Once Mr. Stark got ahold of Wong, who Peter thought he might have met at some point during his recovery, they’d be on their way. He’d only slept lightly for an hour or so, and Mrs. Stark didn’t need long to finish gathering up the personal items they’d been able to collect thanks to the very wizards Mr. Stark was still muttering about. It looked like it was only a small suitcase for the two of them, and Peter had—yeah. He took a steadying breath as he realized, Peter had nothing to grab. All he possessed were the sweats and t-shirt Mr. Stark had given him to wear after his time in the med bay.

He didn’t even have shoes to wear... home?

Reality wasn’t holding back from soundly smacked Peter in the face.

“Wong! Ol’ buddy! Tony Stark, here!” Mr. Stark boomed from beside him. “Your roommate, Dr. Strange, has volunteered you for Stark family relocation duty.” Mr. Stark looked at his watch, “What are you doing in about an hour?”

Peter could have heard the reply if he’d wanted to, but he was drawn to another phone, Mrs. Stark’s, ringing quietly in the bedroom.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the woman answered with a whisper. “How are you?”

Whoever answered was quiet—just quiet enough that Peter couldn’t hear anything in return over Mr. Stark’s conversation, and he knew he had no business being curious but—

“Perfect!” Mr. Stark grew louder, forcing Peter’s attention back to their plans. “Now, do you serve lunch on this trip or is it just a bag of peanuts and...” Mr. Stark stopped talking. From what Peter could hear, it seemed that Wong didn’t share Mr. Stark’s sense of humour. “Yes, Wong, I’m sorry.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes and smirked at the boy. “Yes, I und... no.” Was Mr. Stark getting flustered? “Of course I can be respectful of... yes. I know—I know. Wait, what?—C’mon, you know I was only— But—No, Wong! C’mon—“ A defeated sigh, “Do I have to?—But?—okay! I KNOW!” Mr. Stark pinched his nose, huffed in frustration and then calmed. “Thank you, Wong. We’ll see you in a bit.”

FRIDAY disconnected the call when Mr. Stark turned his attention to Peter. “Kid, I hope you appreciate what I’m about to have to do for you.”

Having no clue what the man was talking about, Peter nodded. “Okay, sir.”

Mr. Stark glared.

“I mean Mr. Stark.” Peter really was trying to keep his struggling from being too obvious, but was apparently failing. “I’m sorry. I’m just...” Peter trailed off as he started fidgeting with his fingers. He couldn’t figure out his place and it left him feeling off kilter. His default setting in those moments had always been hyper-politeness—even if Mr. Stark didn’t like it.

Peter would just have to try harder.

Mr. Stark pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, but said nothing. It was kind of nice and maybe would have given him a chance to catch his breath, except that—

“Alright, dear heart, I’ll see you in a few days.” Mrs. Stark blew a kiss over the phone line, and disconnected from her own call.

Peter’s mind drifted to the bedroom for just a second, wondered who Mrs. Stark would be speaking to like that, and then was forced to come back to Mr. Stark.

“—get that this is a weird time for you, kiddo, but we’ll get home and get you settled in at the tower in no time at all. Happy’s already pulling your stuff from storage and we’ll set up the room next to May’s so you’re close by—we can wait on all that ‘other stuff’ while we get things figured out, but you can make that call once you’re ready. Does that work for you?”

Peter nodded.

Mrs. Stark exited the bedroom, her phone still in hand. “Any luck with Wong?” She asked. “I couldn’t hear the drama over my own call.” She wiggled her phone in the air. “But things are set, right?”

Mr. Stark smiled at her, “You’ll be pleased to know that everything is under control. I’ll grab our bag and we’ll be off once he gets here.” He side-hugged Peter, then finally got up off the couch. “I will, however, take a minute to see if I can grab a quick meet-up with T’challa seeing as our departure timeline has moved up.”

Peter’s stomach dropped. He was leaving?

Peter didn’t notice as Mr. Stark stared down at Peter, saw something, and then crouched down to meet his eyes. “Unless... are you going to be good here with Pepper?”

He hadn’t meant to convey his hesitance at being left with Mrs. Stark. She’d been nothing but kind to him and he had no reason to be concerned—it was just that he hadn’t been away from Mr. Stark in the last days and hours and everything felt so damned raw—and it was written all over his face. “It’s fine, Mr. Stark, really!” He stared back and cursed the fact that he could feel himself tearing up. “I’m good.”

Mr. Stark crooked an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Okay,” he cried out at being called out. “I’m not good, but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to go see Mr. King T’challa!”

Mr. Stark snorted at his response. “Kid, how many times am I going to have to remind you? You were literally spit out powerless into the middle of a battle for the universe after being dusted for five years and have only just started to find out how different things are. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m about ready to drop everything to make sure you’re okay, okay?”

Peter cringed and wished he’d stop bringing it up... like REALLY wished he’d stop. The constant reminder made him feel—well, he didn’t know how he felt, but it wasn’t fantastic, so he rolled his eyes and tried to play it off. “I get that, Mr. Stark. Honest. I just—“ he didn’t know how to say that he had to start figuring stuff out and that him being coddled wasn’t gonna help when all was said and done. Peter looked over to Mrs. Stark, who was watching with interest. “Look, Mrs. Stark is right here and I’m pretty sure she can keep me from setting the room on fire while you’re gone, and...” Beyond that, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Mr. Stark thought for a couple of seconds, then chuckled. “I’m being a bit of a helicopter parent, aren’t I?”

Rubbing the unfallen tears from his eyes, Peter just shrugged. “I guess?” He answered, but quickly qualified the answer, “But I know you’ve gone through stuff, too, so we’ve just gotta-- I don’t know, figure it out as we go?”

Mr. Stark just stared at him, like he was trying to figure something out, but not saying a word.

“Mr. Stark, you’ll be back soon, right?”

He nodded.

“Then we’ll be fine.” Peter looked over to Mrs. Stark, “Mrs. Stark can finish up with whatever she needs to do and I’ll see if I can find something to occupy myself for a bit. There’s a tonne of windows so I can check out all the scenery I’ve missed while laid up, and this suite has enough artwork to fill a wing at a museum! There’s stuff to do. You have to be back before Mr. Wong gets here anyways, so I know you won’t get distracted, right?”

Mr. Stark continued assessing. “You know that’s really sad, don’t you? Contenting yourself with looking out windows and checking out the pictures in the bathroom…”

Peter smiled back at him. “Just because I like science and building stuff doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate something beautiful, Mr. Stark. I’m a well rounded sorta’ guy.” He brushed his knuckles against an invisible lapel. “Trust me. I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t know what it was, but something shifted and Mr. Stark seemed satisfied. “Alright, but if you decide you need me, you get Pepper to call me, okay?”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“Like if you miss me or feel sick or remember a joke you wanted to tell me, got it? No reason is a stupid reason if you need me here.”

Peter blinked back tears again at the obvious affection. “I’ve got it, Mr. Stark, but you should get going. You’ve only got forty-five minutes before Mr. Wong shows up.” He took a deep breath, then held it in.

“Right. Wong. Can’t wait for him to get here.” Mr. Stark replied dryly. “It’ll be great.”

Peter snorted. He almost wished he’d paid more attention to the call. “Yeah, it will be.”

“Well then,” Mr. Stark straightened up, and everyone politely ignored the popping and cracking of his back and knees. “I’m going to dash off really fast and then be right back.” He gave Mrs. Stark a quick peck on the cheek. “Take care of my spider for me, honey. He’s great entertainment when you’re looking for a distraction during a board meeting.” He gave Peter a wink, and then stepped toward the door.

Peter stood up and moved to stand beside Mrs. Potts.

Mr. Stark put a hand on the doorknob, stopped, and looked back over his shoulder at Peter and his wife. “Seriously, call for anything.”

With that declaration, Mr. Stark finally left the room.

The two of them simply stared at the door.

It took less than a minute for the silence to become awkward.

“So, how’s the shoulder feeling, Peter?” Mrs. Stark questioned politely.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt uncomfortable? “Oh,” Peter scrunched his forehead in thought as he cautiously moved his arm. “Um, wow.” He moved it a little more. “I think it’s better?!” He couldn’t hide his surprise as he stared back at her. “I wonder when that happened?”

Mrs. Stark smiled softly at him, “I don’t know, but I’m glad to know that you’re not in any pain.” She sat beside him on the couch and placed a tender hand on his arm. “It was hard for everyone to see you suffering— especially Tony so…”

“Yeah,” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck in discomfort. He didn’t like thinking about bothering other people when he was hurt, and this had been a situation he couldn’t work around. “Um, thanks, I guess?”

She smiled so kindly at him, but Peter didn’t know what to say, so the silence descended upon the pair once again.

Then Mrs. Stark clapped her hands together, startling Peter in the process.

“Art!” She blurted out. “You said that you wanted to look at some of the works in the suite, and it just so happens that Queen Ramonda gave me a little tour of the place before leaving us to settle in.” She was practically beaming. “I can give you some information on the pieces and maybe we can get to know each other a little… if you’d like?”

Peter wanted to decline. The urge to mindlessly meander as he tried to figure out what his next steps were was almost physical. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to be alone until Mr. Stark had gone.

But Mrs. Stark looked almost hopeful.

He smiled at her and hoped it didn’t look too fake, “I don’t want to take you away from whatever you have to do, Mrs. Stark.”

Her grin widened even more, if that was possible. “Nonsense!” she exclaimed. “We just need to grab our bags and we’re done—and I love doing stuff like this!” She stepped towards an incredible sculpture Peter hadn’t noticed before. “Did you know that before I completely flipped my life around and decided to go the Business Admin track at university, I planned to be an Art History major.”

Peter tried really hard to reconcile the Pepper Potts that ran Stark Industries and the Pepper Potts that would have spent her days walking the halls of art museums.

“You can’t picture it, can you?”

The question brought him up short. “I don’t think I can.” He answered honestly, “But that doesn’t mean anything. I mean really, to know me, would you ever imagine that I run around Queens in a unitard and a mask?”

She laughed out loud at the description, “Well, when you put it that way…”

Peter laughed along too, quieter but sincere.

When they’d both settled again, the quiet felt less tense, but Mrs. Stark still wouldn’t allow it to remain. “Do you really like art?” She asked, feeling less forced than the first time.

Peter didn’t think before he answered. “Yeah, I do. I was really looking forward to the field trip that day—my friend, MJ,” he blushed at the mention of her name. “She was going to show me a new photo exhibit that the museum had just opened up, and I was really excited to see it—plus Uncle Ben used to take me there when I was a kid.” He added, unprompted. “He needed to make sure my brain didn’t jam up with cogs and gears, he’d say.” He chuckled quietly, “But then…” Peter shrugged, the words no longer coming to him.

This time, the quiet served a purpose and so it was left to sit—until Peter was ready.

“So, tell me about the statue.” Peter piped up as he walked towards it. “And I have to ask, because it’s me—Am I allowed to touch this? ‘Cuz it’s screaming for me to—”

Mrs. Stark took the cue, gladly it seemed. Heavy stuff was over for now and it was time to move on.

“Queen Ramonda didn’t say either way, but this bust dates back to the 1600s so I’d wager a guess that we’ll just be looking with our eyes today. Alright, Peter?” She put a firm hand on Peter’s back, but gave a teasing wink.

Peter slumped in mock defeat. “Fine,” he pretend-grumped and then spent the next twenty minutes really looking at each piece of art with snippets of information being shared by Mrs. Stark. “MJ would definitely love this.” He decided. “She says everything you need to know about a civilization is demonstrated by how it treats its artists.” He smiled. “I wish I had my phone so I could take some pics to show her how—“ He stopped talking. “Oh.” He was growing tired of fading off into new realizations.

Mrs. Stark noticed his shift in mood and moved closer to him, “Peter? Are you alright?”

Peter stopped himself from answering immediately and focussed on the painting in front of him. He was trying to wrap his brain around another ‘something’ that he hadn’t considered and needed to not have another stupid breakdown in front in front of someone he didn’t really know. Seriously, Mr. Stark was bad enough—but to do it in front of his wife? He let out a torturous scream... in his head, which synced up to the actual heavy sigh he released. “Mrs. Stark? How do I find out if someone was snapped?” He tried not to sound so lost and pathetic but it couldn’t be helped. “I mean, the last time I saw Ned and MJ, I was jumping off of a school bus and heading towards that stupid space donut and now it’s been five years so who knows where they could be?”

She stepped closer still and put an arm around his shoulder. “There’s a registry, Peter. I can check it for you right now or we can check together when we get home, if you’d like... but maybe Tony already knows?” Mrs. Stark gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He was a little...” she seemed to search for a word before she continued, “hyper-focussed when he got back from Titan and anything that impacted the people in his inner circle was at the top of his agenda.” She turned to face him, keeping the contact. “That included you, so...”

Peter couldn’t make the decision. He simply couldn’t, and tried to let Mrs. Potts know, but all he could croak out was, “I... I...”

She enveloped the boy in a hug once she saw the impending panic, and he was remarkably okay with it, even as he tentatively returned the embrace.

“I know you don’t know me as well as the others, Peter, but I’ve gotten to know you through Tony and May—and I want you to know that I’m here for you, too, alright?”

He nodded into her shoulder.

“Doing all of this now, or in hour or even a day—it doesn’t change anything. It can wait until you’re ready. Okay? I know you’re physically all better now, but you’re still allowed to take time.”

He breathed in a calming breath, and exhaled.

“You have so many people in your corner, sweetie. You’ll get through this.”

He nodded again and stepped back from her after a second’s hesitation. “Um, thanks, Mrs. Stark. Sorry about that.” He chuckled nervously and dragged his hand through his hair.

“That’s not something to apologize for, Peter. Not ever.” She lightly scolded. “Now, did you want to look at another painting? Or did—“

“I’d like to look!” Peter suddenly blurted and then realized how crazy he must have sounded. “I mean, um... would it be alright if I used your phone to take a look? – If it’s not too much trouble. I just... I’d... I really want to know. That’s all... I think.”

“That’s not a problem at all.” She collected her phone from the coffee table where she’d discarded it before their impromptu art tour and tapped at the screen. “I haven’t been on the app since before so I’m not sure if or how it’s been organized, but there is a search function.” She swiped the screen, tapped an icon, and handed the phone over. “It looks like we have another ten or so minutes before Tony gets back, and Wong should be shortly after, so...”

Peter took the phone and stared wide-eyed at the screen.

“Do you want me to look for you?”

Peter shook his head. “I think I’m okay. I think it’s just... I just did the whole ‘tell me now’ thing with May and that didn’t work out so well for me, ya’ know? And here I am doing it again like an idiot. I can’t help but think—” He cut himself off.

“I can understand your hesitancy.” Mrs. Stark offered. “You’re in control here, though, so just say the word...”

The screen darkened in warning of the pending lock screen. He swiped his thumb across the gorilla glass and it lit up again. He thought about it for a second then looked up at Mrs. Stark. “Would it be okay if I did this alone?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll just step out while you—“She moved toward the suite door.

“No!” He called out to her. “Please don’t leave—just, can you maybe just hang out in the other room?” He blushed at his neediness. “I don’t want to be ALONE alone—just a little alone. And this should only take a second, right?” He tried to explain, and failed.

“I completely get it.” She pointed toward the bedroom she’d shared with Mr. Stark. “I’ll sneak in there and wait until you decide you’re ready. Does that work?” She asked.

“Yeah, um, thanks.”

She didn’t say anything else, just stepped into the bedroom and smiled at him in encouragement as she closed the door behind her.

And Peter was left holding the phone, with a search screen glaring back at him.

It wasn’t a big deal, right?

He tried to convince himself as he sat himself down on the couch.

Of course it wasn’t.

Not at all.

Which was why he held his breath as he first typed in “Edward Leeds.”

A couple thousand “Edward Leeds” suddenly filled the screen, primarily out of the UK. Of course it couldn’t be that easy he thought, and Peter was almost overwhelmed—until he caught sight of the ‘refine search’ field at the top of the new screen.

He remembered the day he’d met his best friend, and how insistent the boy was that Edward was a loser name—that Ned was where it was at and he’d be forever known only by that... ‘but don’t tell my mom, okay?’ Peter chuckled as he typed exactly that under “Nicknames” and pressed ‘go.’

Three hundred seven “Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds” popped up that time, which was definitely a more manageable number, even if it still sucked. Peter wasn’t shocked to see that most of them were still scattered through the UK, but with the list not going on forever, he could see all of those other Neds scattered through Australia, Canada, and even parts of Africa and South America. The twenty-eight US Neds were scattered throughout the country—but he only had his eye out for one Edward ‘Ned’ Leeds of New York, specifically Queens—and the one word beside his name in red: BLIPPED.

It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be alone when he got back home, he frantically typed in “Michelle Jones.” He had to remind himself that she also had a nickname so he wouldn’t freak out completely when the kazillion Michelle Jones filled the screen. He hit ‘refine search’ once more and typed in the two letters—‘m’ and ‘j.’

0 results showing.

Peter entered her name again, hated himself just a little for not knowing her middle name—if she even had a middle name—and hit ‘go.’ He refined the search again. Hit ‘go’ again.’

0 results showing.

“shit.”

“Language, kid. My virgin ears can’t handle that kind of potty talk.”

Peter did NOT jump a couple of feet of the couch and let loose a high pitched scream of terror when the unexpected voice came from behind him.

The door to the bedroom flew open and slammed against the wall as Mrs. Stark rushed into the living room calling out, “Peter! What’s wrong?!”

Mr. Stark’s laughter told her everything she needed to know and before a chest clutching Peter had even turned completely to glare at the man, Mrs. Potts was smacking him on the arm. “Tony, you jerk! Be good!”

“Hey!” He exclaimed as he tried to get away from his wife’s mock fury, “I didn’t know he hadn’t heard me come in!” He dodged another playful swat. “C’mon, Pep! Give me a break!”

She stopped her attack on Mr. Stark after giving him what Peter could only describe as a death stare and immediately turned her attention to Peter. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked.

Peter shook his head even as he tried to catch his breath. "Geez, Mr. Stark! Give a man some warning next time!"

Still trying to get his giggles under control, Mr. Stark defended himself. "You've got your Peter-tingle, kid. I figured you knew I was there!"

Mr. Stark was not endearing himself to the boy in this moment. "It's my spider-sense, Mr. Stark—Peter-tingle is stupid. I don't care what Aunt May says about it, and anyways, it only works when someone is trying to hurt or kill me. You don't count as that... even though I was about a second away from dying from a heart attack." Peter breathed deep, trying to calm his heart. "Geez. Not cool, man. Not cool at all."

Mr. Stark jumped over the back of the couch and landed with a bounce beside Peter. "Aw, kid. I am sorry, but you were just sitting there and I was so excited to tell you about my visit with T'challa-- but... yeah, I guess you were a million miles away then?

Peter couldn't speak for a few seconds, as his mind re-focussed on the phone in his hand. "Um, no. Not that far-- just in Queens, I guess?"

Mr. Stark looked confused. "Queens?"

"Yeah," he answered back. "I was checking to see who'd been snapped and who hadn't, and, yeah..."

The sadness reflecting in Mr. Stark's face told Peter that he knew. "Peter, you could have asked." He sighed. "We just keep messing up, huh?" He sidled up closer to Peter and slung his arm around him again. "Well, Ned was snapped, but I guess you've seen that, right?"

Peter nodded 'yes.'

"Don't panic about him," Mr. Stark assured him. "He's safe and sound with his family and is waiting for you to call him when you get home."

"How...?"

"Happy does more than empty storage lockers, buddy. I promise you, Ned and his family are fine and your Guy in the Chair is ready and waiting for your return."

"Thank goodness." Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "But did you check up on MJ, too? Where is she? Is she safe, too?"

"Well, your friend MJ, she obviously didn't get snapped," Mr. Stark gestured the phone in Peter's hand, "And by the time we were in communication with people there at the tower, she had already tried to set up camp in the lobby and was going to wait for me to get back... well, for you to get back, but that didn't work out so..."

Peter couldn't hide his confusion.

"Don't worry. She’s good, I promise. We set her up in a suite, too. Her mom had been snapped, but her step-dad was still in the picture so she decided she needed to bail, but fast. I guess he was a real winner so..."

Peter snorted at the understatement. "You could say that."

Mr. Stark did his crooked eyebrow thing and Peter knew he needed to explain. "Let's just say that Spider-Man had to make a visit or two to the apartment when MJ's mom was working overnight shifts.

Mr. Stark almost growled at that information. "Well then I don't feel nearly so bad about hiding her away until she could head off to college."

"Good. You shouldn't-- but college?"

"Of course college. MJ's smart as a whip, and I wasn't gonna let that brain rot at some community college because her low-life step dad was drinking away her college fund."

Peter smiled bigger than he could remember at that, "You sent her to college?"

"You know, you could just call her when you get back, you know. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you. Besides, she may seem tough as nails, but that kid gets homesick just like the rest of them."

Peter flushed and fiddled with the phone he kept forgetting he still held. "Um, yeah, I'm pretty sure that twenty-three year old MJ is not waiting for a call from me."

"C'mon, Pete, maybe she's spent the last five years living a different life than you all had planned, but you were still one of her best friends and that doesn't change."

Peter smiled again, a little more tentative. "You don't think she'll think it's weird?"

And Mr. Stark laughed again. "It's MJ, of course she'll think it's weird, but if you think she'll give two craps about that, then you didn't know her nearly as well as you say you did."

Peter knew he was right, and was just about to say so when there was a knock at the door and Mr. Wong was hollering through it. "Let's go, Stark, I left something simmering on the stove back at the Sanctum Sanctorum."

Mrs. Stark was the one to actually open the door to the man, and Peter stood up to introduce himself to the man-- or at least he thought he would. Mr. Wong focussed completely on the man still sitting on the couch, "Stark."

Mr. Stark lifted himself off the couch and turned to face him. "Wong."

The men simply stared at each other, assessing, when Mr. Stark finally spoke. “Look, Wong, I shouldn’t have been so glib about the whole,” Mr. Stark waved his hands in the air, “thing, and I’m sorry. Let’s just call it good and be done, okay?”

Wong stared, but said nothing.

“Really?”

A dead stare.

“Ugh. Fine.”

Peter watched Mr. Stark work himself up to do... something. Whatever it was, it had to be awful for Mr. Stark’s reaction.

"Oh, great and powerful Wong..." and then Mr. Stark stopped. He huffed and put his hands on his hips. "Are you really going to make me say this?"

Mr. Wong stared back, "You know my conditions."

"Fine."

Was Mr. Stark sulking?

He started again, "Oh, great and powerful Wong..." and then he stomped his foot. "Look, I said I was sorry. I won't be so--"

"You'd have been done by now if you stopped delaying, Stark. I'm waiting."

Peter looked to the door where Mrs. Stark was still standing. She was looking just as confused as Peter felt.

Mr. Stark took a deep breath and started once more. "Oh, great and powerful Wong." He paused, but only to clear his throat. "It must have been cold there in my shadow, to never have sunlight on your face. You were content to let me shine, that's your way. You always walked a step behind. So I was the one with all the glory, while you were the one with all the strength. A beautiful face without a name...”

Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing and side-stepped cautiously away from the men and closer to Mrs. Stark, whose mouth was hanging open in disbelief. “Um, Mrs. Stark, is Mr. Stark quoting Bette Midler lyrics?”

She could only nod.

“Okay,” he squeaked back. “Just wanted to make sure we were seeing the same thing.”

It took a minute for him to make his way through all the lyrics, but just as Mr. Stark rattled off the last lines of the song, Mr. Wong folded his arms and smiled in sick satisfaction. “Perfect. I’m sure Mr. Master of the Mystic Arts will appreciate your cooperation while he’s matching socks for the next month.”

Mr. Stark sputtered in disbelief, but before he could say an actual word, Mr. Wong turned to Peter, bowed, and smiled. “Ah, young Mr. Parker. It is a pleasure to finally meet you now that you are awake.”

Peter bowed back shyly, but Mr. Stark had finally found his words. “Wait a minute here. You said that I’d offended you and that you’d only forgive me if I quoted—“ He blustered a little more, “You said it was soothing!”

Mr. Wong laughed stiffly. “I know what I said! But I’d already bet Stephen that I could get you to quote a song from an 80s soundtrack and I really wanted to get out of laundry.”

“And making dinner, maybe? Is he actually watching that pot on the stove, too?” Mr. Stark snarked back.

“Nah. We’re ordering pizza tonight. I just wanted you to hurry, is all.” Wong turned his attention back to Peter. “And I can imagine you want to get home, too.”

Peter, who was quietly chuckling at the interaction, nodded. “Yes, please, Mr. Wong,” he answered back politely. “If it’s not a problem?”

“It’s just Wong, kid, and because you asked so nicely,” he made a point to stare accusingly at Mr. Stark and then looked back to Peter, “I’ll get right to it.” He addressed the room. “Do you have everything you need? Polite or not, I’m not coming back for a toothbrush.”

“I’m all set, Mr. Wong, but, I guess, um...” Peter stood patiently while Mr. And Mrs. Stark took the hint and rushed into the bedroom to do a quick once over and grab the already packed suitcase. It was barely a minute before they were back and ready to go.

Wong nodded in satisfaction. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Peter watched in fascination as Mr. Wong placed a weird ring on his left hand and started making a circular motion with his right. In only seconds, sparks flew and a circle formed, then grew larger, and larger—and then large enough that they’d all be able to step through without even needing to duck their heads. “How does this work? Do you come through with us?” Peter asked.

Mr. Wong smiled again and shook his head. “No, I’ll head back to the Sanctum and replay my memories for Stephen after you’ve all stepped through, so get a move on.” He gave a teasing wink then gestured to the circle, still sparking. “There’s nothing special to it, Peter. Whenever you’re ready.”

Peter’s capacity for boldness had apparently fled and he stared timidly at the circle.

Mrs. Stark stepped up, pulled her phone from Peter’s hand and then grabbed hold of it. “Now that you’ve mentioned it, I think I could go for pizza, too. What do you say, Peter?”

He appreciated the anchor, grabbed onto it. “Sure, Mrs. Stark. That sounds great.” He turned to Mr. Wong one last time. “Thank you for doing this, Mr. Wong. I’m grateful—and I guess for all the things you and the other wizards did for everyone.”

Wong snorted. “We’re sorcerers, Peter, and don’t let this guy tell you anything different.” He thumbed over at the waiting Mr. Stark. “And you’re welcome. Now go, kick your feet up, and order that pizza. We’ll see each other again.”

Peter grinned back at the man—sorcerer. “If you say so—take care.” And he and Mrs. Stark stepped through what Peter figured had to be some sort of portal. “Mr. Stark?” Peter called back, “Are you coming?”

“One sec, Pete,” Mr. Stark replied and turned back to Mr. Wong saying something that Peter couldn’t hear for the distortion between the two locations.

But if he could have heard, he’d have heard Mr. Stark give a tentative thank you for the show— that it would be something Peter could laugh about for a while.

And Wong’s reply. “He’ll need the happy memories, Stark. Help him make them.”

#fanfiction #IronDad and SpiderSon #Avengers: Endgame #non-compliant #ao3fic #AO3 fanfic #OBlossom

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ayma-nidiot · 4 years ago

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“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 27

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 27 - I Challenge My Fate

~07 November 2005~

“President Phuckdis! Reporting in, sir!” A Buster Blader saluted his general.

“Proceed, Captain.”

“Several enemies calling themselves ‘Earthbound Gods’ started attacking Joey and his friends. Apparently, Joey lost a duel, and last I checked, he was engaged in battle with a snake-like monster. There are now hundreds of enemy soldiers coming this way! It’s only a matter of time before-”

“Th-They’re here!” shouted a few guards who stood watch at the door. “Aaaaaaargh!”

“Hah!” Watda led the charge, showing no mercy in cutting down the guards. He aggressively attacked Joey and showed little interest in anything else. “How kind of you to show me where you lowlifes camp out! Now, give me Uru or else!”

“Never!” Joey swiped at Watda’s feet with his Salamandra sword, “summoned” from his Duel Disk.

“Oh?” Watda smirked as he jumped over the sword like a jump rope. “Why would you want to protect that ‘dung beetle…’ or whatever it is you called him?”

“Hahaha…” cackled a voice from behind Joey. “I wonder that, too. Well, no matter, since that will be your first and last mistake!”

“Weevil!” William growled at the half-shifted Weevil. “Dammit, he escaped!”

“What do you mean, ‘escaped?’” Joey wanted to know.

“William, you moron!” Phuckdis bopped his brother with the blunt end of his sword.

“Hey, Joey!” Weevil’s arms hardened, glowing blood-red. “Think fast!”

“Wh-What?” Joey darted around for the agile bug duelist. Before he could really process what was going on, Weevil found him first, stabbing his non-sword arm with a sharp spider arm. “Aaaah! You… You mosquito…”

“A mosquito, am I?” Weevil continued to assault Joey, who had to parry the attacks with a shaky arm. “Hah! A mosquito is but a caterpillar compared to the monster I’ve become, compliments of my fellow Earthbound Gods!”

“You’ve gone absolutely batshit, Weevil! Open your eyes, why don’t you!”

“Nah, how about no.” Weevil stabbed Joey’s sword hand so hard that the Salamandra sword went flying. “But I’ll gladly open a giant wound in your belly and let the maggots have at you. I’ll make you suffer for what you’ve done in the past…”

“G-Ggh…” Joey looked up at his former Battle City rival, knowing his life was as good as done.

“The only one who will be suffering here is you, Weevil! Amazoness Empress, get ‘im!” exclaimed a debilitated Mai.

“Ah…” All of the excitement of battle left Weevil in an instant, and he knelt to the ground in pain.

“Bind Weevil at once!” Phuckdis ordered. “And be quick about it!”

“Yes, sir!” Several Magician Girl monsters got to work right away.

“Mai…” Joey got up, hoping to help the woman he loved - that was until Watda got in his path.

“Going somewhere, Wheeler?” Watda slashed down a few Club members who got between him and Joey. “Not that it would do you any good, since your pretty little girlfriend is history!”

“Get off her, you thug!” Seeing Watda’s snake arms slither around Mai’s face pissed the hell out of Joey.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I want to hear her scream in agony after I take your life away!”

“Ggh…!” Joey tried to pick up the Salamandra. “Rex… Where the hell are… you…”

“Dammit, get out of our way!” Though the enemies Amber fought on the way to the Club meeting room were weak, their numbers were enough to overwhelm her.

“Need some help?” Rex asked before transforming himself, felling most of the enemies and weakening the rest.

“Papa! You shouldn’t be-” Amber would have scolded her mother if she hadn’t noticed what Rex’s transformation had done.

“Hehe!” Rex remained in rabbit form as he ran with Amber. “I might not be a strong monster, but I’ve got one heck of a special ability. Surprised?”

“Yeah, at the fact that your baby bump is still intact when you switch forms. Shapeshifter physiology is a weird thing, isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be for a girl genius like you.”

“Papa… I know the circumstances are grave, but I don’t want you to push yourself. Let your strong daughter do the fighting.”

Rex’s endurance barely held on long enough to reach the Tabletop Gaming Club’s meeting room. As soon as he turned back into a human, his ankles swelled badly, and held onto Amber as a crutch.

“I got you, Papa. Oh?” No sooner had Rex reverted forms when Amber saw a fight going on well inside their meeting room, in the health/recreation center.

Unlike Amber, Rex recognized Watda instantly - as well as the captive he held by the neck. “That’s the guy who captured me! And he’s got Joey! Ugh!” Rex strained to transform.

“Papa, are you nuts? That man is the Crimson Devil, the strongest of the Earthbound Gods! Even I’m not match for him! H-Hey, get back here!” Amber couldn’t stop her mother from running to Watda in human form.

“Hehehe…” Watda cackled as he raised Joey above the gathering crowd - most of whom were weak monsters that didn’t dare to raise a hand against Watda. “My Earthbound Gods have lost to your friends… It’s too bad that you really lucked out and ended up dueling me ! Although I have to commend your bravery, Mr. Wheeler. It’s too bad you’re not as smart or strong as you are reckless.”

“Joey!” As much as Mai wanted to rescue the man she loved, enemies restrained her. “No! Take me instead, please!”

“D-Damn… you… Watda…” Having lost against Watda himself, Phuckdis barely had the strength to crawl on the floor, let alone fight back.

“Y-You’ll never… have… Urk!” Joey howled in pain as Watda’s nails dug into his neck, drawing blood.

“You’re trying to protect the man who tried to steal your soul, and the one whom you call a ‘duelin’ disgrace?’ Hah!” Watda used his free hand to grab Joey’s head, with the intent to twist it off. “I’ll show you the consequences of being a nice guy, you bleeding-heart filth! You don’t even deserve the honour of final words!”

“And I’ll show you the consequences of messing with my friends!” Rex thundered as he quickly shifted and latched onto one of Watda’s arms.

“Wh-What? Yeowch!” Thanks to Rex’s special effect, Watda could feel his strength draining. “You damned rabbit! How did you escape?”

“Not gonna tell you! But you best think how you’re going to escape!”

“What do you- Argh!” Before Watda could even turn around, an arrow from Amber pierced his shoulder.

“You’re… gonna pay!” Amber continued to shoot a flurry of arrows, chasing Watda out of the building. “Wait! ...Dammit, he got away! Let me-”

From an all-fours position, Rex grabbed one of Amber’s ankles. “Amber, not now… Just look around you.”

“Papa…” Amber noticed that in this battle, many Club members have already died, the vast majority of them killed by Watda.

“At least we know who are enemies are now.”

“...Fine.” Amber turned back into a human and glanced at Joey. “Just so you know, I still hate you. I didn’t do what I did because I consider you a friend.”

“Hehe, I know you do. You just won’t admit it!” Joey’s tone turned serious when he looked down at Rex. “That was a bold thing you did, man. Not only are you super pregnant, but you got beat to a pulp for gods know how long. I’m… I’m sorry for all that I said about you in the past. I take it all back.”

“It’s cool, dude…” Rex decided he couldn’t move anymore, and leaned against a giant wooden table for rest.

“Ugh.” Amber instead turned her attention to her incapacitated allies, Phuckdis and William. “Guys, are you okay?”

“Barely…” Phuckdis managed to stand on his feet, and helped his brother stand up too. “More importantly, Lady Amber… We’ve finally done it. We can now complete our mission.”

“Oh?” Amber looked to the smaller crowd, gathered around… something.

“‘Lady’ Amber? Come to think of it, I think I’ve heard her called that before…” Rex couldn’t see what was going on, even though he wasn’t very far.

“...Stay where you are, Rex.” Amber didn’t allow Rex to move one more inch forward.

“Amber?” Rex’s heart broke a little when Amber called him by his name. “Let me see what’s the ruckus over there!”

“Oh, I will.” Amber gestured for her soldiers to move out of the way, and when they dispersed, Rex could see Weevil - bound at the ankles, weak, and completely void of emotion.

“Weevil! You’re okay…” Rex attempted to crawl over to where Weevil was, but the ankle pain held him back.

“Rex… I don’t think you realize what kind of enemies we’re up against.”

“I’ve learned enough when I was captured. They want Weevil to join them because he’s an almighty god. And who wouldn’t?”

“They don’t want him for just any reason… He’s an Earthbound God, destined to cause ruin.”

Rex remembered what Dip told him, but tried to deny it. “Th-That’s not true! I thought you knew better than anyone that he can use his powers for good!”

“For now, yes… But in time… In time…” Amber walked towards Weevil and stared him down. “Their minds will become so corrupt that they have no choice but to fulfill their destiny. And when they’re with their own kind, they’ll cause unspeakable destruction.”

“Amber, that’s nonsense!”

Amber’s body and voice shook. “After seeing this destruction myself, I can hardly call it nonsense! The Earthbound Gods are what ruined my future! It was them… They were the ones who…”

“You’re not serious…?” Rex hugged himself to stop trembling.

“I saw it with my own eyes! Weevil was the one who killed my baby brother… My boyfriend…” Amber looked at the members of the “Dweeb Patrol,” who were even more confused than Rex. “All of you… And… you, Rex. Weevil killed you right in front of me.”

“Oh… my gods…” Rex wanted to throw up just from hearing this awful story.

“This… has been my mission… all along…” Amber half-shifted and pointed her arrow at Weevil, who looked up at her without a gleam in his eyes.

“Amber!” Rex couldn’t stop crying. “Do you mean to tell me you were duping me this whole time? That all along, your only real goal was to kill Weevil?”

“That’s right. This overgrown spider is the only thing standing between our future and complete freedom!”

“Amber…” Rex cried. “I… I can’t believe what I’m hearing… No, I won’t believe it!”

“And now… I challenge my fate!” Amber’s arrow glowed brightly.

“Do it, Lady Amber.” Phuckdis ordered. “Your mother is already pregnant with your present self, so you can still live. And Francis… He never deserved to live in such a terrible future. Do this, and his soul will be appeased.”

“Haha…” Amber’s eyes hardened on Weevil. “I’m going to free everyone… I’m going to save the world! All I have to do is kill one bloody Earthbound God! And I’m going to do it in front of your very eyes, Rex!”

“Amber… Argh!” No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much Phuckdis and William pulled his legs, Rex crawled forward.

“Don’t you dare interfere in our mission, Rex!” Phuckdis threatened to stab Rex’s legs with his sword. “I don’t care if you’re pregnant! I won’t hesitate to hurt you!”

“Amber… I know you don’t want to do this. The bonds your father and I have forged with you over the past few months are real. They’re not something you want to end with a stupid, puny arrow. Even though you’re barely younger than us, Weevil and I really love you as our daughter. Isn’t there any room in your heart for the father who raised you? The father who taught you everything there is to know about insects and dueling? The father would would take all the pain and suffering in the world just to make you happy?”

“Shut… up…” Amber started to tear up.

“Amber… I want us to live and bond as a family. There’s got to be another way. Let’s put all this behind us and go on another mall trip, or walk in the park. But whatever you do… please, don’t do this.”

“Shut up, Rex! You’re just making it harder!” Amber’s aim at Weevil’s heart began to waver.

“But you can save him! We’ve done it before!”

“No. Look at him! He’s too far gone now... He doesn’t even remember who the fuck you are, Rex! This is the only way I can save the world - and Weevil’s soul. I… I don’t want to see this man suffer in the soulless shell that was once Weevil Underwood. I’d… rather… Sniff…”

“Rex… Weevil…” Even the normally-proud Joey, the Joey that once despised Rex and Weevil with everything he had, couldn’t help but shed tears of his own.

“Weevil…” Amber choked on her own breath, and she pulled her bowstring as far back as she could. “Sorry, not sorry.”

So were Amber’s final words as she tearfully let her arrow fly at Weevil full speed.

#yugioh #ygo #shrimpshipping #mpreg #fanfiction #this chapter legit made me cry #super obvious Fire Emblem Awakening references in this chapter hahaha

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yodawgiherd · 5 years ago

Text

Nightmare Buster

Rating: M

>>>Read on AO3<<<

The quarantine is finally getting to me, so have some fluff and smut while I do my best to figure out what to do with my life. Hope you'll like it. :)

Enjoy!

There’s an art in painting nails. The way you have to get the job done in even strokes, to spread the paint equally, to make sure that none of the surface is left out. It was hard work, needing a steady hand and dedication, and luckily Eren had all of these. As he didn’t decide to paint his own nails, yet, he worked in silence on his willing model. Mikasa’s feet in his lap, he gently dragged the brush over her toenails, making sure to cover all of it with her favorite shade of black color. Midnight.

“You have to admit,”, she said, tearing him out of his artistic trance, “I look good in this set.”

Lifting his eyes from his work, Eren swung them at her, noticing that she’s reading a fashion magazine with herself on the cover. The narcist.

“Which one’s that again?”, he asked, returning to his unfinished business with her toes, “The sports or the biker gear? Oh, is it the kimono? I like that.”

She eyed him over the rim of the magazine.

“Why that particular one?”

“Well…”, dipping the brush in the color, Eren took a moment to think, “I see you in biker or training gear almost every day, but kimono was a new look for you. You are not big on Japanese traditions, despite your Asian half.”

A sly grin entered his face.

“Unless we are talking about shibari, then you are quite the enthusiast.”

Hiding her slight blush behind the magazine, Mikasa murmured some half-assed answer, letting Eren work in peace. That was until something else caught her eye.

“Baby, look at this!”, she exclaimed, shoving the page almost into his face.

Curious to see what made her so excited, Eren once again paused his important strokes to inspect the text.

“It’s… uh… a competition?”

She nodded rapidly at that.

“A contest for the hottest surgeon, see? All you have to do is send your pictures, and if you win…”, she eyed the page again, “You get a professional photoshoot done! Isn’t that amazing?”

“I thought you were the supermodel of this household,”, Eren’s reply was rather sober, he didn’t feel the need of exposing himself like this.

Seeing that he is still not very sold on the idea, Mikasa did her best to motivate him.

“Think of all the potential it would give you! How much you could stick it to your colleagues for example, like…”

“Onya.”, Eren finished for her, eyes turning interested, “Oh he would be green with jealousy if I won this in front of his face.”

Nice, she almost had him.

“And think of all the women who would look at your pictures and fawn over your body.”, Mikasa kept striking the iron while it was hot, speaking in a low breathy whisper “I bet that some of them would get wet just by looking at you.”

But this time, she missed the mark.

“I mean that’s cool, but why should I care what other women think.”, Eren countered, “You are the only one I care about.”

“Well, of course, you are mine, puppy, and if you as much as look at other women…..”

“I am legally required to look at other women. I’m a surgeon, I can’t put a sign on my door that says male patients only.”

Cheeky bastard.

“You know what I mean. As I was saying, you are mine, but they don’t know that. And potentially….”

“I couldn’t help them even potentially with their thirst. Or did you forget?”, Eren eyed her with a spark of humor in his eye, “My dick doesn’t work for other girls, just you.”

Maybe there was a scientific term for that, but Eren didn’t bother looking it up. Since that revelation back during their break-up period, It became only more and more clear that Mikasa was the only woman who did things to him. She had him by the balls, figuratively, and she didn’t even have to do anything. Just be herself, and that was more than enough.

“I still think that you are overreacting from one bad experience,”, Mikasa said, not completely convinced.

But still, it was sweet of him, so leaning closer, she pressed a kiss to his mouth. An innocent kiss that made her yearn for more when she felt just how nice Eren’s lips were. When she tried to deepen it, to maybe put their tongues into play, Eren pulled back, surprising her.

“Can I finish this first?”, he asked, holding up the brush.

Wait a second.

“Just to be completely clear, you don’t want to have sex because you are painting my toes?”

“Correction, I don’t want to have sex before I finish painting them.”, Eren shrugged, “I just hate to leave things half-assed.”

Laughing, Mikasa leaned back into her old place, watching Eren wink at her as he picked up the brush again and got to work. It wasn’t half bad. As her fiancé opted to do this shirtless, she could watch the muscles ripple beneath his skin anytime he moved. Even those delicate little strokes were giving her a show. Oh yes, he’s going to be an amazing model, the competition was over, they just didn’t know it. His whole body felt like sex personified, and it was made even better by those nice wings on his back, twins to the ones on her own. Mikasa never thought that she’s going to share a tattoo with someone, but here it was, marking them as soulmates. And watching Eren hunched over, dedicated to making her feet look even cuter than usual, she couldn’t have picked a better partner. Seeing him like this, it gave her an idea.

“Baby?”

“Hmmm…?”, unfocused, his eyes were still glued to where the brush danced.

“I want something new, something to wear.”

That made him look up, eyebrows furrowed.

“Like a dress?”

“No, like a…. you know…. Some play gear?”

“Oh.”, he caught that rather quickly, “Any preferences?”

She shook her head.

“Surprise me.”

If Mikasa wanted a new thingy, Eren would be the last to deny her.

“Very well, I can swing by the shop this week. Anything else?”

“Cuffs.”

“Cuffs?”

“Yup, some soft ones, so I can be soft on you for a change.”

An odd request, considering how rough and merciless she always was as a mistress, but there’s nothing wrong with mixing things up, Eren imagined.

“Sure. I’m sure that Zackly will appreciate the business.”

Seeing that she had no further requests, Eren dipped the brush in the paint again and went back to his work, determined to finally finish what he started.

A movement woke him alongside whispered words. Eyes opening into the pitch black of midnight, Eren quickly located the source of the ruckus by checking the other side of the bed. Mikasa was having a nightmare again.

Brows furrowed, sweat running down her face, she grimaced and moaned something, fisting the bedding so tightly that her knuckles were bleeding white. Trained and experienced in this, Eren immediately hunched over her, gently caressing her face and whispering to her. Waking her up harshly could have bad consequences, as Mikasa usually punched the first thing she saw and didn’t hold any of her inhuman strength back. Eren already caught a few of those during their time together, and he wasn’t very keen on repeating that experience.

“Hey, wake up Miki…”

Her eyelids moved, fluttering, she was close to being let out. So, Eren pressed on.

“Baby, I’m here, please come back to me.”

Finally, she opened her eyes, almost immediately locating his face.

“E-Eren… I…”, her greys filled with tears out of nowhere, “You died!”

“No, no baby, I’m right here,”, sitting up, he pulled her into his lap, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, as if she still didn’t believe it, her arms snaked around his torso and Mikasa pressed herself close to him, ear right over his heartbeat.

“It was just a dream, a nightmare. I’m here for you baby.”

“A dream… Y-Yes, a dream… I…”, she choked back a sob, “It was so terrible, I think… I think I…”

Overcome, she started crying openly.

“I think I killed you!”

Her hug tightening, she cried on his chest, her tears flowing down on Eren’s skin. Not sure how to react, Eren just stroked her head, waiting for the worst to come out of her.

“Just let it out,”, he murmured into her hair, “I’ve got you.”

She shook on top of him, somehow small and vulnerable despite all the strength and greatness Eren knew she possessed. Those night terrors always made her like this, twisted the worst of her fears into reality and injected them into her sleep. It was some time since Mikasa had a nightmare, but this unwelcomed guest was here to stay. And Eren was more than happy to help her chase it away. Rocking back and forth slightly, he kept holding her, doing the only thing that could be done. Waiting.

It slowly passed, her sobs grew weaker and that embrace strong enough to squeeze his bones grew less tight. Despite all these signs, Eren waited for her to speak, giving her all the time in the world.

“I’m sorry…”, she finally said, whispering it into his tear-streaked chest.

“Don’t apologize, it is my pleasure.”

She snorted.

“To be woken up by a crazy girl in the middle of the night and then forced to hold her while she cries on top of you. A privilege indeed.”

“The greatest one.”

Mikasa let out a shaky exhale, nuzzling into his chest. The slow heartbeat she could hear calmed her.

“I still can’t believe that I dreamed that I killed you. It was so… realistic.”

“If you killed me I’m sure that I deserved it. What did I do?”

She shook her head.

“I can’t remember. Something bad, terrible but still…”

The embrace grew tighter again. Maybe a bit too much.

“I didn’t want to do it. I surely don’t.”

“Well, if you squeeze me a bit more you might just end me.”, Eren managed to speak out of his quickly decreasing oxygen supply.

Seriously, even breathing was hard from how hard she clung to him. Immediately lessening the pressure, Mikasa looked up with an apologetic look on her face, but that was hardly necessary. As if Eren could ever be mad at someone this cute. With her wide wet eyes, tears on her face and slightly trembling pink lips, she was the image of a woman he would pledge his life to protect, not hurt in any way. Not possible. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead.

“I swear I wouldn’t hurt you.”, she said, probably still dazed by the dream, “I love you so much, I couldn’t do it.”

Eren could never imagine hurting Mikasa, he would rather cut off his own hand than cause her any harm and he supposed that she felt the same way about him. Hurting your soul mate just made no sense, ever. Whoever that other Eren was, he must have been a colossal asshole to deserve being killed by the other Mikasa. This Eren was surely glad that his fiancé wouldn’t hurt him because when Mikasa was dead serious she was downright terrifying, there was no other word to describe it. She could murder with her eyes alone.

“Hey, I know that.”, pressing their foreheads together, he stared into her eyes, “I love you more than life itself, Mikasa.”

All this helped, of course, the nightmare demons retreated but somehow they stayed, lingering at the edge of her vision. She didn’t remember the entirety of her dream, but she did recall a few things. Huge, burning bodies. Blood and gunshots. Explosions. And worst of all, she remembered Eren’s eyes when she pushed that knife, or a sword?, into his heart. Because he wasn’t angry, resentful, or anything like that. There was acceptance written in his face as if this was meant to happen, as if there was no other way, as if him dying was the best possible outcome. Mikasa hated to even imagine such a scenario.

Even enveloped in Eren’s hug, listening to his heartbeat, she still felt a bit cold at the core of her being, she saw that face in front of her eyes. She yearned for him, she realized, yearned to know that he is real and here with her, in the bed. She wanted to feel his heated skin on her own, damn those sleeping clothes. Looking up, she blinked the tears away from her eyes, immediately getting his attention.

“Make love to me.”, a half-broken whisper coming from such a sad face gave Eren a pause.

Not like he didn’t want her, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to do, considering that she just woke from a nightmare and was still suffering the consequences. But Mikasa was sure, there was only one cure for her current condition and that was Eren. All of him.

“I need you.”, she continued, hands circling his shoulders as Mikasa shifted their position, lying on her back and pulling his weight on top of her. “Please baby.”

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed her lower half into his, hoping he will feel that burning need that settled between her thighs. She needed him and needed him now.

Dropping a hand between them, Eren gently caressed the flimsy fabric of her panties, feeling the heat. Despite what he thought, Mikasa seemed to be craving this.

“Would you like if I made you feel good?”, he suggested, his fingers rubbing at her weak spot, “I could go down on you, make you relax.”

Mikasa knew that Eren was very good at that, that he could make her melt with his tongue, but she didn’t want that now. She needed him inside her, to be as physically close as possible to her lover, to feel his sweat run down her skin. Shaking her head, she rubbed her heat alongside his awakening length instead.

“Just make love to me, please.”, she repeated.

Defeated by her sound argument and the need in her voice, Eren made the smallest needed adjustment for her wish to come true. Nudging her panties aside, his pants already slid down to the halfway of his ass by Mikasa’s feet, Eren pulled back to line himself up properly, taking note of how eagerly she spread her legs for him. Pushing in, Mikasa’s eyes fluttering closed as her mouth fell open, a choked sob running through her body. He waited for a moment, waited for her to adjust to him, to the sudden fullness, watching her until she opened her eyes and nodded at him. Pulling back, pushing in, Eren did this dance a thousand times but still, he loved it as much as the first time. Maybe more, now that he knew what he was doing. Knowing that it was the intimacy that she craved the most, Eren adjusted his position until he was close to her, as close as he could until he was able to press kisses on her elegant neck which she gracefully bent to give him more space. She was moaning softly as he moved inside of her, a sound much sweeter than his own grunts, forced out by how she squeezed him inside of her, how massaged his sensitive length was.

Eren was starting to lose it, so closing his eyes, he pressed his face into her neck, clenching his teeth against the rising wave. But Mikasa wasn’t satisfied with that. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she forced him to look at her, to watch her face as her climax began to approach. Fire, spreading through her body, waking her up from that cold nightmare, making the last remnants of it disappear, chased away by Eren’s rhythmic deep thrusts, by the heat of his naked skin on her. Wanting to feel more of it, most of it, she removed her sleeping shirt with a quick flick of the wrist, making them equally naked. Now, when he was on top of her, his weight pushing her down, Eren grew more demanding, more feverish, using his hands to catch her wrists and pin them down next to her head. He was losing it, losing his precious calm, teeth gritting as he stared down at her flushed cheeks. To hide his expression and to make her feel better, he dropped his head down to her now naked chest, worshipping those small perky tits with his mouth. Dragging his tongue alongside her hard nipples, sucking at her firm breasts, Eren was sure to keep himself busy, as doing this was much better than just waiting to be overcome by that approaching wave. Each thrust was a grunt, each one so deep it made Mikasa roll her eyes back, each one pushing her closer and closer. She arched from the bed, moaning out loud now, held down only by him. He pinned her down to the bed, spread like a butterfly, fucked her into the bed, meeting her need for rougher treatment perfectly. And with a last deep shove, she was done, vision going white as her body clenched and writhed on the bed in Eren’s iron hold. He was close too, of course, and this spectacle Mikasa always delivered when she came, that desperate face and shaking body, that was more than enough to keel him over. One, two, the third thrust was his end as he emptied himself into her, spent. The sweat the was beading on his forehead fell on her face, making him mutter an apology but Mikasa only shook her head, not minding anything right now. Nightmares were gone and she was flying, high on her climax, anything dark and sad somewhere deep beneath her. Letting out a shaky exhale, she opened her eyes, watching her love stare down at her from his position above her, still buried deep between her legs. Sweat running down his lean, muscular body, green eyes framed by the long brown hair, Eren was quite a sight. Biting her bottom lip, Mikasa couldn’t believe how hot he was right now. And even with this mind shaking orgasm still present in her body, one thought solidified in her mind. She wanted to go on. She wanted more. Now.

“Can you go again?”, she asked, watching Eren’s eyes widen.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Can you go again?”, reaching out she ran her hand down his face, over his chest and stomach, gently touching that place where they were still connected, “Please…”

“You want me to fuck you again?”

“Mhmm.”, she nodded, “And harder please.”

Right, as if Eren needed more proof that she was a nympho. Then again….

“Fine, but I’ll do you from behind.”, pulling out of her with a wet sound, he gave her room and watched as Mikasa eagerly scrambled on all fours. Her need for a gentle wake up was taken care of, now there was a darker desire smoldering beneath her stomach. She needed to have him completely. She needed him to be as far within her as possible.

Adjusting her position with a few tugs, Eren moved to one knee, properly lining himself up and pushing back in. To be perfectly honest, Eren had a bit of an ulterior motive when he asked for this position. While taking Mikasa from behind was an amazing experience on its own, it had the added novelty of the tattoo on her back, covering the firm lines of her muscles and moving anytime she did, shifting her position slightly. Oh yes, this looked good, the artists did an outstanding job.

“So you want me to fuck you harder, is that right?”

Mikasa threw him a needy look over her shoulder, shaking her backside slightly to tempt him, to get him to move.

“Yes, sir.”

“And are you sure that you can handle it?”

This time, she threw him a sweaty smirk.

“Of course, sir.”

Very well then, it was high time to stop staring and deliver. Once again moving inside her heat, Eren picked up the tempo right off the bat, not wasting any time with preparation. He fucked her hard and fast, just as she wanted, roughening it up with open-handed slaps to her firm backside. The trick was in never falling into a tempo with those, so Mikasa could never see those short flares of pain coming, could not prepare for them. And judging from how hard she clenched around him anytime he hit her, Eren was doing a fine job. He was a storm behind her, dirty and uncaring, powerful in how he moved. Her body started failing her from the relentless assault, weakened by both pleasure and spikes of pain, arms failing to support her weight as her upper half slid down on the mattress, fisting the bedding instead. Her knees held, managing to keep her ass up for him, and that was the important thing here.

“You like this?”, he spoke up, demanding, in control, wanting her to say how she felt, “How does it feel when I fuck you?”

How does one say heavenly without making it sound so cheesy?

“G-Good, sir…”, she panted, forming words was hard at the moment, “Do-Don’t stop, plea-please, please...”

As if he would ever do that. Taking her slumped form as an opportunity, Eren hunched over her, making his presence felt as much as he could. If she wanted to feel him everywhere, he had no problem with that. Pushing one palm against her feverish cheek, Eren slipped his thumb into her mouth, rolling it over her tongue and gums, taking all of her at the same time. Finger in her mouth, cock buried deep inside her clenching pussy, Eren was dominating all of Mikasa, every nook and cranny of her athletic body, taking it as his. And she loved it so much. Her eyes were rolled back inside her head, her breath was coming out in short huffs of warm breath against Eren’s palm, her body trembled beneath his assault. Another harsh slap landing on her ass, the skin red at this point, the pain combined with the pleasure and pushed her so close that the coil in her stomach could snap at any moment. It took a deep thrust and another slap, this time so hard that it made her cry out to do so. Cumming at the same time while there are tears of pain in your eyes is an experience that Mikasa already had but was glad to repeat it. If anything, all those hours they spent in the gym together made Eren rather capable of spanking her hard enough for Mikasa’s tastes. And just then, in the middle of her climax, Eren altered the position again.

Curling his hand beneath her, around her stomach, Eren picked her trembling weight up and leaning back, he pressed Mikasa’s back into his front as he kneeled on the bed. Putty in his hands, Mikasa didn’t resist. Her legs were forced open in this position, his knees between hers, holding her there, open for Eren to have his way with her. Pulling his fingers from between her lips, he grabbed Mikasa’s throat instead, angling her head so he could kiss her, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. She was half unresponsive, being stuck in the middle of her orgasm, her mouth open and pliant to his demands. And still, he fucked her, his hips moved like a hammer, hitting that spot deep inside her that kept the climax going and going as if it would never stop. Her muscles moved on their own, her hips snapped into his, her arms moved to wrap around his neck, pushing their faces even closer into that messy kiss. Her back arched into the perfect curve, her body quaked with each hit, unsure if it would ever be released from this sweet torment. Eren’s hands felt like steel by how unyielding he was, one arm encircled possessively around her stomach and her trembling abs, holding her up, while the other held her throat, the pressure there restricting Mikasa’s breathing. Choking was just what she needed right now, drowning in the intense pleasure already. Just as her vision was going dark, completely spent and exhausted by this rough lovemaking, Eren cursed and his cock spurted inside her, spilling a much smaller second load into her clenching cunt.

Done, she was boneless, high on hormones, and when Eren finally let her go, weakening the tight embrace he held her in, she immediately fell on the bed. Trying to catch her breath, trying to collect her bearing, Mikasa’s chest was still heaving, the intensity a bit too much. She was sure to feel this in the morning.

“So…”, Eren spoke behind her, eyeing her fallen form, “Hard enough?”

She just smiled, her mind still high in heaven from the remnants of her long drawn-out orgasm. There were a lot of words she could say, she could say how amazing it was, how perfectly it filled her need, how he took her breath away, but there was no need to do that. Instead, she looked at him from the bed, meeting his eyes with her half-lidded grays.

“Yes.”

And that was enough. After cleaning themselves from the filth and sweat, they settled in the bed again, this time to finally sleep. Tired from Eren’s performance, Mikasa was sure that no more nightmares were waiting for her, any fear of losing him was positively fucked out of her system. Angling her head, she kissed him, a small and quiet thank you gesture. After that, they settled back to sleep, with Mikasa still clinging to him and laying her head on his chest, using the steady heartbeat to lull her to sleep. She fell back into the dreamland rather quickly, exhausted, but Eren stayed up for a time, tracing the lines of the wings tattoo on her back, clearly visible as Mikasa didn’t bother with putting on a shirt after their shower. Inspecting it from up close, unbandaged and in all its glory, spanning over the whole area of her beautifully chiseled back, he had to agree that the suffering of thousand needles was worth it in the end. It was perfect, just as she was.

It was pleasantly empty here. Darius’ shop was popular, but most of the orders were placed online and only picked up or delivered. There are not many people who are confident enough to just strut into a sex shop and browse. After all these years of working with Zackly, Eren was one of those confident ones. Leaning on the counter, he ran his fingers over the new pair of cuffs the owner was presenting him with, soft black leather with red padding.

“You like them?”, Darius asked.

“Sure do.”, nodding at the shopkeeper, Eren reached for his wallet, only to stop when a new thought struck him, “Listen, do you have uh… What’s the name of this, it’s like clothing only for your upper half and…”

“You mean corset?”

“No, no, we have plenty of those. I was thinking that stuff that gymnast wear.”

“Leotard?”

Eren snapped his fingers.

“That’s it! Do you stock those?”

The shopkeeper grinned.

“Latex I guess?”

The doctor returned his smile.

“You guessed it, Mikasa likes that material a lot.”

Darius nodded at that.

“I think we do, let me check in the back.”

Disappearing behind the curtain, Zackly set out on the search while Eren made himself comfortable, examining the cuffs. They had a few pairs already, but Mikasa expressed the desire for some soft ones, for soft domming, which Eren found a bit funny considering how ruthless of a dominatrix she was. But hey, if she wanted soft cuffs, he’s going to buy her soft cuffs. Just then, as he finished this train of thought, a voice spoke behind him. A voice he had no problem hearing anywhere, a voice he knew, but a voice that he was not thrilled to listen to while visiting a sex shop. Ymir’s voice.

“Eren? Is that you?”

With a pained expression, he turned, facing the tall freckled girl and her blonde girlfriend, who was doing her best to disappear into the ground. And while Krista was blushing and looking away, Ymir boldly met Eren’s gaze, completely unfazed.

“Damn, would you look at this, I never imagined you as a sexual deviant.”, she said, grinning.

“Ymir!”, Krista spoke, poking her in the shoulder, “That’s not nice. Eren can do what he wants in private.”

“I’m just… You know…. Browsing…”, trying to put out the fire, Eren smiled nervously, “I was just curious.”

“Just curious?”, Ymir repeated after him, not buying his lies.

“Yea, you know… Life is like… Uhm…”, scratching the back of his neck, Eren was running out of things to say.

And then, Darius gave him the killing shot.

“Eren? I have the thing you asked for!”, coming from the back, Zackly carried the box with a smile of a winner, “I even found Mikasa’s size, I have it memorized after all that gear you bought from…”

Finally coming to the front, he eyes the situation, raising an eyebrow.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Satisfied that he was busted, Ymir took a step back, letting him complete his transaction in peace. Turning back towards the shopkeeper, Eren sighed.

“Just ran into some friends here.”

“That’s good, maybe you can show them around, give them some tips, you are experienced enough. It’s important that people who are new to this don’t fuck up anything, wouldn’t you say?”

Yeah right, Eren was totally looking forward to that. Then again, there was no way for Darius to know, and since he was working in the business, of course he would not be embarrassed by it. Paying for the gear, he waved at Darius before walking to where Ymir and Krista were standing, inspecting a row of dildos.

“Look, baby, it’s Mr. Kink.”, putting back the vibrator she held in her hand, Ymir turned towards him, “What did you buy, new ropes?”

If she only knew how many of those they did have back at home. Mikasa’s shibari obsession demanded ropework on a regular basis, and Eren had a healthy supply built up. The lady could always choose by what rope she wanted to be bound by. Luckily, he was saved from answering by Krista again.

“You can’t just ask him that! It’s not like we want to share why are we here.”

“Oh? But I��ll tell him if you want.”, meeting Eren’s eyes, she started, “You see, we want to buy some bo-.. ow!”

Rubbing her shoulder, she glared at her tiny girlfriend who just punched her there.

“What was that for?”

“Maybe you are comfortable with sharing our intimate life with everyone, but I’m not. So why don’t you shut up for once.”

“Ladies, there’s no need for that.”, defusing the situation Eren spoke up, getting their attention.

And hell, Darius was right, he and Mikasa were experienced in this, and Ymir and Krista were just starting. Maybe he could share some tips, if they want, of course.

“Let me guess,”, he began, “ Are you here for the first time?”

As Ymir took Krista’s advice and remained silent, it was the blonde who answered.

“Yes. We started talking about it just recently and we finally gathered our courage to come here.”

From the two of them, it was rather obvious who needed to gather the courage and Ymir wasn’t it. Taking a deep breath, Eren slowly pieced together the sentence, hoping to get his point across.

“As you may have noticed, I and Mikasa have been in this game for some time, so if you want, I could share some tips. Something to get you two started.”

If Krista wasn’t blushing before, her face was a tomato now. But Ymir immediately jumped on that offer, just as he expected.

“Yes! Totally, we can’t wait to hear all the dirty secrets!”

The blonde groaned.

“Ymir, there’s internet….”

“What? Why would we take our advice from the internet when we have this guy here? He’s offering!”

“I didn’t say that I’ll share everything, I’m just saying that I could help you since you are new and…”, Eren chimed in, but Ymir didn’t care.

“Sure, sure, we are totally in.”, taking the lead again, Ymir shot him a predatory smile, “Why don’t you come by our flat, we can discuss stuff there. Just tell me at work when you have the time.”

“Well, I need to run this by Mikasa first, see if she’s okay with this too and…”

But Ymir was already waving her hand.

“Sure, sure, whatever. It’s not like you are the one who wears the pants in your relationship and…”

Once again, Krista’s tiny fist hit the taller girl in the shoulder.

“Ymir!”, she hissed.

“Okay! Okay. Sorry, that was not appropriate. But my point still stands.”, Ymir cleared her throat, “Both me and Krista would be very grateful for any advice you might give us. And those dirty secrets.”

Krista sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“All right, I’ll see how Mikasa feels about it.”, not sure how to end this conversation without looking weird, Eren nodded at the pair, “Krista, Ymir... I guess I’ll see you at work.”

The blonde gave him a little wave, still blushing, while Ymir smirked at him, obviously looking forward to whatever he would share with her. Damn gossip. Heading towards the door, Eren couldn’t help but wonder into what kind of trouble he just got.

Damn it.

#eremika #fanfic #snk #aot #fluff and smut #:)

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razieltwelve · 5 years ago

Text

Discussion (Final Rose)

Lightning looked over at Amethyst. The other woman was a year younger than her, and she lived a few doors down with her daughter, Beryl, and her dog, Herbie. Beryl was good friends with Diana, and the pair were currently in the backyard looking for cicada shells with Strangles and Herbie. Normally, Amethyst was a cheerful woman, but the expression on her face today was anything but cheerful.

“Beryl awakened her Aura yesterday. She was chasing after Herbie when she tripped over. I saw the flash, Lightning. I might not have much Aura myself, but I know what I saw.”

“She’s only seven,” Lightning mused.

It was rare for children that young to awaken their Aura naturally. The ones that did often became powerful huntsmen and huntresses. She wondered if Beryl’s friendship with Diana might have had something to do with it. It was well known that long-term exposure to large amounts of Aura tended to lead to earlier Aura awakening, and Diana already had more Aura than most huntsmen and huntresses.

“I...” Amethyst took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned her father to you before, have I?”

Lightning shook her head. “I’ll admit I’ve been a bit curious, but I assumed you had your reasons.” Life, after all, had a way of making things complicated.

“I think it’s because of him,” Amethyst said. “My husband... he was a huntsman, an A Tier huntsman. He... he...” Amethyst struggled to force the words out. “He and his team were wiped out on a mission about a year after Beryl was born.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Lightning could say.

“He was all I had,” Amethyst said quietly. “I was an orphan, and I’ve never been good at making friends. But he... he didn’t care that I was awkward around other people or that I wasn’t famous or rich. He loved me just the way I was, and we were so happy.” She bit back a sob. “I didn’t even get his body back. They ended up bombing the entire area after he and the other huntsmen and huntresses were killed.”

That reminded Lightning of something. “The mission your husband was on... was it in the Blighted Valley?”

The Blighted Valley was an area people usually avoided. No one exactly why, but things there didn’t grow right, and technology stopped working properly. If she recalled correctly, Vale had sent in several teams to investigate after detecting unusual energy sources in and around the valley. The teams had been wiped out by a hive of unknown Grimm.

Vale had responded by asking Vanille to bombard the area with a barrage of bunker-busting missiles capable of breaching the hive’s exterior before unleashing a second wave of heavy ordnance to finish the job. It was a testament to the durability of the Grimm that the followup teams had actually recovered several specimens that were intact enough to autopsy. Team STRQ had then led a campaign to ensure that none of the Grimm had survived.

“Yes,” Amethyst said. “That was the mission he was on. They wouldn’t tell me much about what happened. It was all classified. I’ve been wondering and wondering if there was something he could have done or if...”

Lightning shook her head. “It wasn’t his fault, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know what happened there, and although I can’t give you the details, I can say that what happened was beyond his control.”

“Thank you.” Amethyst sniffled. “I’m just... I’m scared. Beryl is all I have left. If something happens to her... but... I know how it is. If she’s like her father, she’ll want to become a huntress. She’ll want to help people, and maybe one day she’ll go on a mission just like he did and...”

Lightning wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, but she couldn’t. There was a reason huntsmen and huntresses earned so much money. It was extremely dangerous work. “If that’s the case, then the best thing you can do is make sure that she gets the best training possible.” Lightning sighed. “There are no guarantees for huntsmen and huntresses, but good training and a good team will go a long, long way to helping her survive and even thrive as a huntress.”

“Can you help me?” Amethyst asked. “I don’t know the first thing about hunting, and you’re so famous...” She bit her lip. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I’m sure you have a lot of things to worry about already...”

“It’s fine,” Lightning said. “If Beryl does want to be a huntress, I’ll do what I can to help. Besides, I’m sure Diana will be more than happy to help as well.”

Amethyst nodded sombrely. “I... that helps a lot. I just... I hope she’ll be okay.”

X X X

Beryl ducked behind a boulder and winced as sparks flew off the rock. Damn, that Grimm was accurate with the quills it could shoot out of its back. Not far away, her teammates were crouching behind boulders of their own. “Is everybody still in one piece?”

Jade made a face and clutched at her side. “I mean... yeah... I’m still in one piece for now, but if that thing hits me again, I probably won’t be.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a training mission?” Granite rumbled. The boy had somehow found himself behind the smallest boulder, which was beyond awkward considering his tall, broad frame. “Because I remember being told this was a training mission.”

“We’re at Beacon,” Basalt countered. “Their version of a training mission is substantially more difficult than most academy’s.”

“Just sit tight,” Beryl ordered. “We're not the only team out here. Help should be here soon.”

She peeked around the corner and tossed a grenade. She was glad she’d packed a few extra. They might not have the range of her spear, but there was nothing quite like an incendiary grenade to buy a bit of room. The grenade hit the monstrous Grimm square on the face and detonated, spewing ultra-high temperature gel everywhere. The Grimm reeled back, but she doubted they’d be lucky enough for it to die.

The Grimm’s cries of agony were answered by howls of fury from the lesser Grimm that accompanied it. These lesser Grimm bounded forward, bones gleaming in the firelight.

“Pick them off,” Beryl ordered. “We can’t let them dislodge us. We’re dead if that big one catches us on open ground.”

Jade brought her sniper rifle around and picked off a trio of the lesser Grimm with three head shots. Basalt’s Semblance flared, and several columns of rock lanced upward, impaling more of the smaller creatures. He’d tried his Semblance against the massive Grimm, but it had simply shrugged off the attacks before nearly impaling him with some of its quills.

“Good work,” Beryl shouted. Her spear turned into a flamethrower, and she used an aerosolised combination of fuel and fire Dust to unleash a cloud of fire at their attackers. “Keep it up.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Granite rush out from behind his boulder. The huge broadsword he wielded made short work of the Grimm that had managed to get closer, and he hurried to get back behind his boulder as the towering Grimm strode forward again.

A barrage of quills, each as long as a forearm, clattered into their boulders. Beryl could feel hers beginning to give away. In a way they were lucky. This giant Grimm was clearly best suited for wiping out huge numbers of lightly armoured troops, like militia or light infantry. Its weaponry was somewhat less good at breaking through heavily armoured positions, like boulders.

“Any second now,” Beryl said, glancing at her scroll. “Backup should be here any second now -” There was a moment of extreme dislocation before she suddenly found herself dozens of yards away with her team. “What... the...?”

“Hey!” Rikku landed beside her and grinned. “It looks like you guys were in a tough spot.”

Ah, that explained it. Rikku must have used her Semblance to switch all of them out with random rocks and other objects to get them to safety. “Where’s the rest of your team?”

“Over there.” Rikku pointed.

Beryl turned to look. Anna and Yuffie were both hacking and slashing at the massive Grimm. What should have been a death sentence to face in close combat was made bearable by Yuffie’s intangibility, which Anna appeared to be ‘borrowing’ for the time being. Seeing that their attacks weren't doing nearly enough damage to the heavily armoured Grimm, they began to plant what looked like adhesive explosives on the Grimm’s body.

“Those’ll do the job,” Rikku said, her Semblance flaring once again. Yuffie and Anna appeared beside them as a pair of small boulders vanished and reappeared next to the Grimm. “And if they don’t, there’s always Plan B.”

“And what’s Plan B?” Granite asked before the explosives detonated. The blast threatened to knock all of them off their feet, and Beryl had to shield her eyes. Those weren’t normal explosives. They must have been something Diana had thrown together, maybe bunker busters. She knew for a fact that the other girl carried some around at all times, and Beryl normally made sure to grab some whenever she went on a mission. She hadn’t this time because this was supposed to be a relatively easy training mission. It wasn’t a mistake she’d make again.

The explosion cleared to show the Grimm somehow still alive although it was badly wounded with large holes blown through its bony armour and two of its limbs barely attached to its body. It roared in pain and rage, but its roar did not go unanswered.

“She’s Plan B.”

Diana descended from the sky like a meteor. Beryl winced. Her friend must be really pissed off. She wasn’t even going to try fighting the Grimm in her human form, which was normally something she enjoyed - something about getting practice in against powerful opponents. Instead, she’d already transformed, and she looked ready to rip her opponent to shreds.

“Yeah,” Rikku said. “When Diana heard your distress call, she was in the middle of dealing with a bunch of Grimm over to the west, so she sent us ahead. She would have come herself, but you weren’t the only teams in trouble. It turns out a lot of the Grimm have been hiding, waiting for a chance to spring an ambush. She figured we could get you guys out of harm’s way while she cleaned up before heading here.”

“I don’t suppose we could borrow her for our next mission?” Jade asked. “Because that would be really great.”

Beryl grinned. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll ask her.” She turned to the rest of her teammates. “Good work out there, today. I know we’re not the ones killing that thing, but I think we did well to survive long enough for help to come and to kill off so many of the others.”

Yuffie nodded. “You sure did.” She waved her hand around. “I hit that thing as hard as I could with my shuriken, and I all I got was a sore hand. Heck, we hit it with enough bunker busters to bring down a city block, and it’s still alive.”

“Well... not anymore,” Anna pointed out as Diana tore the Grimm’s head off. “But, yeah, you guys did great.” She sagged. “It’s been a tough mission, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

X X X

Author’s Notes

Beacon caters to a range of different levels of ability. Admittedly, it is most famous for its EX and S Tier students, but the majority of students are going to become A or B Tier huntsmen and huntresses. It’s a simple numbers game. There just aren’t that many people on the level of people like Pyrrha.

As an aside, Amethyst’s position is sadly not an uncommon one. Relatively few huntsmen and huntresses have the opportunity to retire after a full career. Most either retire after injury or are killed in the field. One of the pivotal changes that leads to Remnant’s eventual triumph over the Grimm is medical care improving enough that more and more huntsmen and huntresses survive and even return to duty due to improved health care and rehabilitation. Vale, like all of the major kingdoms, offers a stipend for the spouses of huntsmen or huntresses killed in the line of duty or from complications related to their profession.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here. I’ve recently released two stories, Attempted Adventuring and Surviving Quarantine, as well as two audiobooks, Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Army of Golems and Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check them out.

#final rose #fanfiction #team dayr #lightning farron

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p-artsypants · 5 years ago

Text

Longest Night (35) Burning

I had the flu last week! It was super not fun! Make sure to wash your hands and stay home as much as you can! Besides the big bad the flu is also afoot and it sucks!

As I stated in an earlier chapter, I’m a Christian. Because of the nature of this story, I wanted to incorporate some elements of my faith into it. I find it weird to impress my faith on fictional characters, so I usually don’t, but my God is a healer. It makes sense that He’d be mentioned. I’ll probably keep it kind of subtle.

Not this chapter though. THIS ONE GOES HARD. STRAP IN BOYS!!

It’s also REALLY GROSS at parts. Sorry in advance.

(Also, this is creative writing, I’m not really up to theology debates. Please and thank you in advance.)

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“End of the road.” Lady Lacrima said, her face blank and emotionless.

Salo pulled her hand, or rather her wrist, to her chest. “How the hell did he find you?”

Lady Lacrima shrugged. “You must have gotten sloppy.”

“Or you gave him clues! I should have killed you weeks ago!”

“You should have,” Lady Lacrima agreed. “You should have let me die with compassion in my heart. But you didn’t. You created a monster. Two of them.”

Salo spat at her. “You’re a product of Hawkmoth! I only avenged my Eddy!”

“After all this, you’re still justifying your heinous actions. You’re so lost in your depravity, that you can’t even see how low you’ve sunk.”

“So what now?” She sneered. “Now that the roles are reversed, what are you going to do?”

Lady Lacrima reach out and caressed the woman’s face, leaving a smear of blood on her cheek. “The roles are far from reversed, Salo.” She stated, holding out her arms. A buster sword, one bigger than any human could wield, materialized in her hands. “I’m more powerful than you could ever hope to be. And you…there’s no punishment on Earth that befits you.”

“Will you kill me then?”

“That depends…do you believe in God?”

Salo scoffed. “What are you, my Nonna? Go ahead, kill me. Let your God punish me.”

Lady Lacrima adjusted the sword in her hand. “He’ll get his turn.”

Salo’s lip trembled as she attempted to scoot away.

“It’s funny. Without those glasses, you look almost human. And all this time, I thought you were a soulless machine. But if you have a soul…you can burn in hell.” And she slammed the blade down, down through flesh and bone and into the cement, separating her legs from her torso.

The woman screamed in agony, clawing at the ground to escape.

Claws ripped into her stomach, pulling her intestines out and spilling them on the floor.

“What do you think Salo? Should we leave you like this?”

Salo didn’t answer, only squealed and cried out as she writhed on the floor like a worm. Her vision was blurred, but she could see the lights above her head.

Then there was a silhouette, holding out long claws. Claws that pulsed and churned with dark energy. They came closer and closer to her face.

It burned. Hotter than any fire she’d felt before. She heard her skin sizzling and cracking.

Then there was nothing.

No sound, no light, nor breath in her lungs. No emotion fleeting through her head.

And yet—

She was awake. More awake than she’d ever been before. It was like she had been dreaming all this time, and she was finally aware of all that was happening around her.

“Where am I?” She asked, noting the white space around her. Not the billowing clouds she’d seen in Sunday school illustrations as a child. Just a vast infinite of nothingness.

“It has many names, ones in each dialect. We like to call it Hades, or Sheol. Though to you, it would be Death.”

“I’m in...I’m in death?”

“Correct. For death is not a natural state, it is only a temporary condition of the fall.”

“The fall?”

The voice hummed, patiently answering her question. “The fall of mankind. In the Garden of Eden. You know the story, Bianca.”

“I—I do.” She admitted. “I just didn’t think—“

“That it was real?”

“Yeah…”

“What did you think would happen when it was all over?”

She shrugged. “That’s just it. That it would be over. There was nothing else.”

“You are a product of your time. Your eyes were closed to the truth. You had plenty of chances to open them, but they remained firmly shut.”

Bianca raised her hands, finally looking at what had become of her body. No scars, no wrinkles, no calluses, just sooth skin, like a newborn baby.

“Who are you? Can I see you?” She finally asked.

“We’ve never talked, but I’m a good friend of yours. I’ve been with you a long time.”

“Are you my guardian angel?”

The voice laughed. “No. I’m not an angel at all. I’m an antagonist to the angels.”

“A demon?”

“No no, but you’re getting warmer,” it sang, “I will show myself soon, but my name is Death.”

Bianca blinked. “Wait, I thought I was…in Death. I’m in you?”

“I am the state, place, and Lord of Death. I am here, walking with you, all around you, and I am you. But it is beyond mortal understanding.”

Bianca just took a shaky breath, resolved that this was bigger than her, for once.

“You are receiving a wonderful gift, Bianca. A look at the future. Those who perish permanently are not provided with this opportunity.”

“…have I not perished permanently then?”

“Mostly likely not. In the world of free will, there is still a chance that you, and several others will return to Earth for a few more pitiful years.”

“Because…of Ladybug and Chat Noir? Their reset button?”

“That is correct. But until then, you are separated from your body. And I will show you what happens in the end.”

Bianca swallowed as wispy white rolled away. The sky was rolled back like a scroll, displaying the mighty heavens in all their glory. The ground quaked and cracked, falling away to show a growing hoard of lethargic souls, shuffling on with no destination. Bianca stood above on a pillar, just observing them.

“These are the others in Death, they are just like you. But they won’t be returning to Earth. Their lives are over, and ahead of them is judgement.”

“And then?”

“Two options. Up…”

Within the vastness of the sky, a city floated. Walls made of jasper, gates of pearl, and twelve foundations stacked on top of each other, each made of a solid precious metal. There were no lights, as darkness couldn’t penetrate the walls. It was blindingly bright and hurt to look at.

“Or down.”

The pillar grew, twisting to peer over the edge of the world. Below, she saw a pit of fire and smoke, covered with an ancient seal. Inside the pit sat a beast with ten horns and seven heads, with crowns on each head. It looked up to her, licking her lips in patience.

“What is that?”

“The beast which devours all and demands worship. One day, when the seal is broken, the beast will go to earth. He will be exalted as a king above all, and everyone will love and adore him. He is a deceiver.”

“People will worship that?” She asked, incredulous. “Out of fear?”

“Out of blindness. The beast will not appear on Earth like this. May he appear as a man, or as a temptation? That is not for you to know.”

The Beast paced in the pit, its fourteen eyes never leaving her.

“Once it’s reign begins, it cannot be stopped. A prophesy will come to pass, and the wrath of God will pour out on the Earth. After a thousand years of peace, this Beast, the Devil himself, and I will be cast into the Lake of Fire. Those in my arms will be judged, and if their names are not found in the Book of Life, they too will be cast down.”

The pillar grew again, the ground tilting and shifting to move the pit out of the way. And beneath that was a horrible chasm, stretched out for miles and miles, though she could still see the divide clearly. On the other side, a lake, vast and sprawling, but instead of water, it churned with fire. Flames rolling and burning, on and on, hot, and unbearably agonizing.

“And then what?” She breathed. “We burn up, and then are no more?”

“No.” Said Death. “There is no end to the burning. It will go on, forever and ever. You will beg for relief, but you’ll never get it. Every second, you will want to die, but this is the second death. It lasts forever.”

“But that’s thousands of years from now!” She cried, trying to dissuade her panic. “What about now? Do I wander like the rest of them?” She gestured down to the wandering souls below her.

Death smiled. “I suppose you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

The pillar crumbled, pulling her down to the crowd, though no one seemed to pay any mind. Though as her feet touched to cool ground, things started to slip from her mind.

She bumped into a soul. A man who she recognized. “Harken! Oh it’s nice to see someone I know! We have to stick together, the Miraculous Cure is going to take us back soon.”

But Harken didn’t respond, only pushed passed her and continued listlessly onward.

“Death? Why didn’t he recognize me? He died only a minute before me!”

But Death did not respond, so she was on her own.

So she wandered among the spirits. Not really knowing where she was going, or what would happen. Was this it? Milling about for hours until her return to Earth?

That didn’t seem so terrible.

She wasn’t calm, but not panicked either. Nor scared nor bored, just…there. Like a blank slate of her emotions. Even the last few moments of her life on Earth began to slip her mind. She passed faces she swore she knew, names that where common to her.

But none of that seemed important now. Nothing did.

Then with a step, she was in front of a podium, one so tall it loomed over her. Standing at it, was a living creature with the face of a human, with seven wings and seven eyes. It wore pure white linen and a gold sash. On the podium rested a huge book, thicker than she was tall, and four times as wide.

“Name?”

She blinked, the clarity returning to her mind. “Uh it’s Bianca. Bianca Furtoli.”

The being flipped through the pages. Then opened another book, and another. A scroll unrolled from the surface and came cascading down to her, unraveling next to her and continuing off into the distance.

“Your name is not written in the Book of Life.” The creature said simply.

“And?”

“And so The Way is closed to you, for you are unrepentant, and your eyes are closed. Your lips only hold blasphemy, and your throat is like an open grave.”

“Are you Death?” She asked.

“No,” it said, “But it will be coming for you soon. I am an Angel of the Lord.”

“Funny, I thought Angels were supposed to be beautiful.”

“What would there be to fear in beauty?”

“Why do you think people fear me?” She asked, hand on her hip.

“Humans fear you, Bianca, because your reputation proceeds you. You speak with a silver tongue, convincing crowds, manipulating multitudes, and preying on vulnerabilities, like a lion stalks his prey.”

“You’re all so poetic up here.”

“And you don’t fear what’s to become of you?”

“I was killed by an akuma. Once Ladybug does her little magic spell, I’ll pop right back on Earth. It’ll only be a few minutes now. Death told me so.”

“Death must be fond of you. It rarely talks to mortals. It does not discriminate. But take heed child, it is not a friend, for it works for the Lord, but it should not exist.”

Bianca frowned. “It gave me more answers than you’re giving me.”

“What makes you think you’re worthy of answers?”

“Because my Nonna said I was made in the image of God. That’s why.”

“A good answer.” The angel mused.

“Then tell me how I get my name written in the Book.”

“Ask your Nonna.”

She frowned. “I prayed that silly little prayer as a girl. I did exactly what I had to do.”

“You were a child, and had the faith of a child. The repentance of a child. But you have grown, and you haven’t lived up to your vow. You prayed to accept the sacrifice that Jesus the Messiah made for you, and yet you trampled upon all he asked of you to do.”

“What did he ask me?”

“To follow him, and be like him.”

“Well, no one’s perfect.”

“He’s not asking for perfection. He’s asking for you to be forgiving, kind, patient, loving, gentle. To have self-control. To be a light to others in the fallen world.” The book slammed shut. “Not to torture children.”

“Says a lot coming from a god that allows wars to be waged. Cancer to run rampant. Hunger and disease to plague half the world. If he’s so powerful, how has he allowed all this to happen, huh? How come he didn’t stop me sooner, if I’m so bad, huh?”

The angel shook his head, “O Childish Blasphemer, who are you to know the infinite ways of God? How are you, a mere infant in the eyes of the world, supposed to understand these concepts beyond your vapid existence? For now, these horrors persist, but one day, they will cease forever. But the likes of you are unlikely to ever believe that. In the last days, you will be gnashing your teeth, and cursing God, even when he gives you plenty of opportunities to repent.”

“What will happen to me now then? Will you continue to berate me until I go back to Earth? Doesn’t seem very loving to me.”

“I have nothing more to say to you, Bianca. Death will fetch you now.”

The Angel moved one of its wings, and from behind it came a pale horse with a rider. The horse was sickly, with a tail made of serpents, and with a mouth of a lion that spewed smoke and fire.

The rider wore fiery red armor, with accents of yellow sulfur. He had a sickle in one hand, and a whip in the other.

The horse whinnied, thunder roaring from its jaws, instilling Bianca with fear.

“Can I run?” She asked the Angel.

“You can try.”

And so she did. Though there was no where to run in this vast expanse where Death could not find her.

Bianca was halted by the whip cracking around her throat, though the rider never stopped his gallop, and dragged her away. She flailed around, choking as the sky turned black as sack cloth and the moon turned red as blood. She cried as the flesh ripped from her body and blood streaked behind her, carving her path. The many eyes of the wandering souls around her watched as she was stripped naked in all her shame. She was swallowed by the darkness, not even the light of fire illuminating the writhing floor beneath her.

The smell of rot and decay was strong, as vomit crawled up her throat and out. Maggots crawled over her, making a home in her wounds, her ears, her mouth, her eyes. Anywhere they could crawl, they did. Every bite, every pinch, she felt. There was no blurring from one to the other, she felt it all. And all she could do was scream.

She was left to rot, tormented for hours, perhaps days. Flames burst up from below, doing nothing to the worms, but roasting her alive. Burning, agonizing, blistering pain. She rolled around, trying to get relief, but there was just none to be had.

The fire was intense, and she laid there, cooking like a piece of meat on a grill. It was so hot she couldn’t move. So hot she couldn’t think. She gnashed her teeth and screamed and cried on and on.

“Death!” She begged. “Please! Please show me mercy!”

But Death did not answer, and did not show her mercy.

“Water! Please…just a little water…”

Finally, Death appeared on the horse, trampling over her. “Water? You murderer, you rapist, you liar, you thief! Water is what you want?”

“Please! Please I can’t do this!”

“Where were you when they begged for water? When they begged for peace? Where were you when they begged for time and patience? You had no mercy in life, so why should you receive it in death?”

“Please God! God make it stop!”

—

One moment, she was shrieking in agony, the next, her consciousness melted and she laid on cold metal. Her breath bounced off the surface in front of her. She reached her hand out, touching the sides of the metal box she rested in. A coffin?

Did that mean she was going to suffocate and die again?

She was going to—

Burn.

The tears streaked across her cheeks as the memories of that torture returned to her. She had been eaten alive by maggots, and burned. Burned. Burned. It did happen. Indisputably. The wounds were gone, and she was wearing the leather clothes she had been wearing in the catacombs, when she was killed.

Miraculous Cure must have brought her back.

But how long did she have?

She cried out in horror.

A light shone down by her feet, before the surface she was laying on rolled out, and she found herself in a room.

“Bianca Furtoli?” A police officer asked.

She just stared at him for a moment before weeping. “Please! Please help me! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to go back there!”

He turned on the radio on his lapel. “Havoc here, I’ve got Furtoli. She’s just like the others.”

Bianca reached out and grabbed his arm. “I am back now, aren’t I? This is Earth? Paris?”

He pried her hands off. “Ms. Furtoli, I’m going to need you to calm down. Yes, you were dead, and now you’re alive again. I’m sure this must be hard for you—“

“Where’s Marinette? Where’s Adrien? Please, I need to see them!”

“You don’t get to know that information.” He said sternly.

“I need to ask forgiveness! Please, I beg you!”

“Sit down.” He demanded.

“What’s going to happen to me?! Where am I?!”

“Likely, you’ll be going to prison. If not a mental hospital.”

“Will there be a priest there? I must talk to a priest! Please! I went to hell! I was burning in hell!”

“You know what?” He asked shortly. “I think you completely deserve that after what you did to those kids.”

Bianca fell to her knees and sobbed, not even trying to hide her shame or guilt. She just wept and wept.

She wept when the handcuffs went on her wrists. She wept when she was read her rights, and as she was loaded into the car. She cried herself to sleep that night, and every night for the next few weeks. She spoke to none of Edward Savauge’s men. She had no contact with family.

Fear is a terrible state to live in. And for Bianca Furtoli, it meant every day, every hour, she was preparing to return to that awful fire. She would not rest until she found a way to repent.

And for a woman who believed she was a god, that was a long way off.

—

Marinette awoke to a cool hand on her forehead. She shivered under her blankets, but her face felt so warm.

“Hi there, Ladybug.” Said John, setting a cup of water on her table. “You’ve got a little bit of a fever. That’s expected, and it’s not too high.”

“Cold…” She breathed in her half awakened state.

“Of course. I’ll get you a blanket in a second. How is everything else feeling? How’s your pain?”

“I can handle it. It’s mild.”

“Okay, I’m glad to hear that.” He stepped out of the room briefly, only to return with a soft blanket. “Here we go, nice and warm.” He unfurled it, and brought it up to her chin. It was fresh from the dryer, and nice and toasty. “Better?”

“Much.”

“I’ve got some water here for you. Try to drink a little more before going back to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back to check on you periodically.”

“John?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Anything for my hero.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #longest night

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remywrites5 · 6 years ago

Note

May I please have some spideypool banter? Love your writing so much!

Happy New Year!

***

Peter sat on top of a high building with his legs dangling over the edge. He had a clear view of Time’s Square without being in the thick of it. He knew there were a few discount Spider-mans in the crowd, posing to selfies with tourists who are out celebrating New Year’s Eve. He probably could have gone down and made some money, charging five bucks a pop to get a picture with him. But as a New Yorker he knew better than to be in Time’s Square on New Year’s.

Still, he couldn’t be at home with his Aunt for the holiday. Chances were there would be at least some drunk drivers, maybe a few unruly drunks, or even some small crimes that Peter would be able to help with. Sitting at home with his Aunt watching Holiday Inn would just make him a ball of anxiety and guilt that he was shirking his duties as Spider-man. It didn’t mean he liked leaving his Aunt to ring in the New Year by herself but she’d understood he had responsibilities.

Peter heard some grunting from behind him and turned to see the tip of a red mask pop up over the side of the building. A few moments later the rest of Deadpool appeared as he hoisted himself up, tumbling gracelessly over to side and ending up sprawled on his back looking up at the sky.

Peter walked over and put himself in Wade’s field of vision. “Need a hand?”

“Is that an invitation for some sweet jerking it action, baby?” Wade asked, his mask stretching as he grinned. “Because the answer is always yes. Full consent from good old DP for the rest of time. Even if your ass did end up sagging I would still tap it on the reg.”

Peter shook his head. “Charming as usual, I see.”

“I just scaled a building for you, Spidey, doesn’t that win me any brownie points?” Wade asked, sitting up and turning to face Peter. Peter figured lying on katanas couldn’t be comfortable even with them being sheathed.

Peter huffed out a breath. Wade was always flirting with him when they encountered each other. And while it was easy to pretend he wasn’t affected by it, the truth was Peter was often grateful that he could hide behind his mask. The last thing he needed was Wade knowing just how often he made Peter blush. “It would have meant more if you’d done so with actual brownies,” he quipped, crouching down by Wade but still resolutely on his guard. Even though Wade had never hurt him in the past or even attempted to hurt him, Peter knew the Merc was dangerous if he wanted to be.

“Wait!” Wade said, rummaging through his pouches. “I think I’ve got a Twix bar in on of these.”

Peter raised an eyebrow even though he knew Wade couldn’t see it. “Is it fun sized?”

“Yeah, baby, just like you!”

Peter couldn’t help smiling as Wade pushed the candy bar into his hands. “I’m not fun sized. You’re just massive.”

“Oh, you noticed that, huh?” Wade asked, leaning in towards Peter. “I work out.”

Peter tried to stifle his laughter but it came out anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, wondering why he said it so fondly. Maybe Deadpool was growing on him. The Merc had taken up permanent residence almost six months ago in New York, causing havoc and showing up whenever Peter was on patrol. Peter had left the Merc webbed up to more than a few buildings even though he knew Wade could get out of it with his katanas. Wade had called it foreplay on more than one occasion, making Peter go bright red under his mask with the implications of it.

Peter rolled his mask up to under his nose and took a bit of the Twix. “Are you a right Twix or left Twix person?” he asked as he chewed, not really caring about talking with his mouth full. It wasn’t like Deadpool would chastise him for his bad manners.

“Left Twix all the way, baby.”

Peter snorted. “Any particular reason?”

Wade shrugged. “I mean a man has to take a stand somewhere, right?” He grabbed Peter by the front of his suit and hauled him forward until Peter was straddling his lap while Peter made an indignant sound at being manhandled. “Hmm, that’s better.”

Peter finished his Twix and shoved the wrapped into one of Wade’s pouches. He was pretty sure his fingers brushed over some loose bullets, reminding him of how dangerous Wade really was. “I don’t think you’ve earned enough brownie points for this,” Peter managed to tease. He attempted to get up but Wade put his arms around Peter and locked him into place.

“For once the Spider is caught in someone else’s web,” Wade purred. He leaned forward and slid his nose along Peter’s jawline, his breath hot against Peter’s exposed skin, making Peter shiver in response.

“You gonna let me go?” Peter asked, putting his hands on Wade’s shoulders and getting ready to shove the Merc away. He wasn’t sure why he was hesitating.

“Fuck baby boy, if the rest of you is as cute as your jaw and lips, I’m in real trouble,” Wade said, burying his face in Peter’s neck and nuzzling him affectionately. “You’ve already been giving me like permanent blue balls with all your teasing. I don’t think I can die of sexual frustration because – you know – super healing factor but it’s still not fun.”

Peter gawked at him in surprise. “I haven’t been teasing you!” he said, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. It felt like if anything it was normally the other way around. Although Peter could usually play it cool, Wade had a tendency to make Peter feel equal parts embarrassed and flattered.

Wade giggled. “Oh baby you’re such a fucking tease, you don’t even know,” he said, sliding his mask up to his nose as well and licking up Peter’s neck.

Peter made a face and wiped his neck clean. “Are you part Chihuahua or something?’

“Yo Quiero Taco Bell!” Wade cried out before laughing. “Fuck now I want tacos. Maybe a Mexican Pizza or five. You ever try those cinnabon bites they’ve got there with the icing inside? It’s like they jizz in your mouth except it’s waaaaay better tasting. Although I bet you taste amazing. Bet you taste like sugar, baby boy.”

Peter felt his blush deeper. “Can’t you behave for like one minute?”

Wade shrugged. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Peter sighed. “So is the plan to just sit here until midnight then?”

Wade grinned. “Wanna kiss me at midnight, Spidey? Gotta start the New Year off right!”

Peter cocked his head to the side. “I think that would be considered more wrong than right, Wade.”

Wade dropped his hands immediately, releasing Peter from his impressive grip. The smile was gone from his face. “Ah, I get it,” he said softly. “Not that I blame you, Spider-babe. I wouldn’t want to mac on all of this either.”

Peter felt bad and not just because he missed the warmth of Wade’s arms encircling him, keeping him toasty against the chilly December night air. He hadn’t meant to hurt Deadpool’s feelings. Usually it was harder to get a read on the Merc with his mask on but with it rolled up Peter could at least see his mouth and how it was nearly pouting, his lower lip protruding just a bit.

“I don’t know what kind of a whore you think I am,” Peter said, joking lightly. “Kissing on the first not-even-remotely-a-date. What do you take me for? Some kind of a floosy? I don’t put out for Twix bars. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, maybe, but not a Twix. Besides, I’m right Twix as my ride or die anyway so this would never work.”

Peter took it as a personal triumph that Wade was smiling again. “I could be persuaded to go right Twix.”

“What happened to taking a stand?”

“Does it look like I’m standing to you?” Wade shot back, putting his hands lightly on Peter’s hips. Not trapping him but holding him gently. Even through the gloves Peter could feel Wade radiating heat. It made Peter shiver again.

Peter chuckled. “Fine, you can kiss me at midnight but no tongues. I know you’re Canadian and your lot is into the French but you’re in America now buster.”

Wade wined and shifted under Peter slightly. “But Spidey, I wanna put my tongue in your mouth. How can you disregard my heritage like that? I had no idea you were so racist!”

Peter shrugged. “Take it or leave it, Wade.”

The countdown started below them and they had a perfect view of the ball dropping slowly. “Fine, fine, I’ll take it!” Wade said quickly.

They got down to three and Peter licked his lips in anticipation. On the one he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Wade’s in a soft, chaste kiss. Wade’s tongue flicked against the opening of Peter’s lips and he let out a whimper when Peter refused him entrance into his mouth. He should have known Wade would try and break the rules, after all he was basically known for it. His hands had slid from innocently on Peter’s hips to full on gripping his ass.

After a moment, Peter pulled back, taking Wade’s hands and putting them back on his hips. “Easy there, cowboy.”

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t resist,” Wade said, grinning mischievously. “You’ve got the greatest ass since Captain America. What if I had called myself Captain Canada? Do you think I would have a museum exhibit too? I’d definitely have my own flavor of maple syrup.”

“That would have been lame.”

“There you go being racist again, baby,” Wade said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “We’ve really gotta get you in some meetings so you can get past your hate of my home country, especially if you’re going to date me.”

Peter let out a startled noise. “Who says I’m going to date you?”

Wade laughed. “Immersion therapy,” he said, gently sliding his hands up and down Peter’s thighs. “Come on baby, I’ll be so good to you. And you know they say how you spend your New Years is how you’ll spend your whole year. So that means you’ll be spending it with me.”

Peter huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that so?”

“Yeah baby boy,” Wade said, nodding emphatically. “It’s like the wishbone on Thanksgiving except Thanksgiving is in October you uncultured American idiots.”

“Now who’s being racist?” Peter teased, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Takes one to know one, Spidey.”

Peter groaned. “If I spend my year with you I’m pretty sure I’ll go out of my fucking mind.”

“I’ve already lost mine, baby. Oooh twinsies!”

Peter leaned forward so he was whispering in Wade’s ear. “I’m not into twincest.”

Wade moaned. “Those blue balls are going to come back with a vengeance if you keep doing that, baby boy. Like Keanu in John Wick 2…or 3.”

Peter got Wade’s earlobe between his lips and nibbled on it gently. He surprised even himself with the intimate gesture. He had no idea what had gotten into him but he liked it. He liked having such an effect on Wade. Wade was all hard muscles and dangerous but Peter was fairly certain her could turn Wade into a puddle of goo if he wanted. “You know, we’ve got about fifty-five minutes until it’s New Year’s in Central time. We should probably kiss then too just to make sure we ring in the New Year right. Then an hour after that is Mountain Time and then an hour after that is Pacific time.”

Wade smirked. “We gonna kiss every hour on the hour?” he asked in amusement. “What will we do in between?”

Peter shrugged. “Cuddle?” He took his mask off and let Wade see his full face. He figured if he was going to do this he might as well go all in. Wade gasped for a moment and then ripped his own mask off. They stared at each other for a moment, seeing each other with their own eyes for the first time. Peter was struck by just how warm Wade’s eyes were. He took a moment to study the mottled texture of Wade’s skin, reaching out and brushing his fingertips over it lightly.

“Fuck,” Wade said, his breath shaky. “Spidey, you’re a babe! And I mean that almost literally. How fucking old are you?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “I’m twenty-one, you asshole.”

“You still wanna do this, Spidey? Now that you’ve gotten the full picture that is my fucked up face?”

Peter nodded. “Do you?”

“Do you really have to ask that, baby boy?”

“My name’s actually Peter,” he said, holding out his hand. He figured he might as well go for broke as long as he was being completely reckless.

“Mm, I like it. Suits you,” Wade hummed, shaking Peter’s hand. “Gonna get it tattoed on my ass or at least I would but healing factor means no tats. At that point might as well just use the sticker ones. Get a butterfly or a unicorn or some kind of Lisa Frank type shit.”

“Please don’t get my name tattooed on you, Wade,” Peter said with a deep sigh.

“You’re right, you should get my name tattooed on your ass. Property of Wade Wilson. Sounds like a tramp stamp,” he said, wigging his eyebrows playfully.

“Never in a million years,” Peter said, laughing softly. “And I already told you I’m not a tramp.”

“Not yet you’re not,” Wade said, giving Peter a wink. “But give me until midnight Hawaii time and I bet I’ll have you sinning.”

Peter leaned forward and kissed Wade softly on the lips. “There better be breakfast involved. “

“In the actual act or afterwards?” Wade asked, nipping gently at Peter’s lower lips. “Because I would happily cover you in syrup and lick you clean”

“Afterwards,” Peter said decisively, ignoring the way heat was pooling in his groin at the thought of Wade licking him all over. “But only if we do proper bacon and not that Canadian shit.”

Wade tsked and shook his head. “Please at least tell me you like Celine Dion, she’s a fucking treasure.”

Peter made a face. “Does anyone like Celine Dion?” he challenged with a raised eyebrow.

“The Bare Naked Ladies?”

“I only know that one song.”

“Ugh, you’re killing me, Petey!”

Peter laughed. “That’s actually impossible.”

“That’s it!” Wade said, capturing Peter’s lips and kissing him hard. “Tonight will be a marathon fuckfest sountracked by the Bare Naked Ladies. And when you cum you better scream out Oh Canada!”

Peter laughed harder and got to his feet. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” he said, holding his hand out to Wade. Wade took it and Peter lifted him to his feet.

“Too late,” Wade said, kissing Peter again. “Happy New Year, Peter.”

“Happy New Year, Wade.”

#spideypool #i write things #fluff #new years eve #so many canada references #peter parker x wade wilson #long post #anon prompt

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elizabethemerald · 6 years ago

Text

Freeing Angor

It’s your girl! Back again with a canon divergent moment for Trollhunters! Because this is what I do best! This time featuring one pissed off Assassin, Barbara being a badass, and Jim deciding against making a mistake.

Jim raced on his vespa through the Arcadia sewers. He knew he only had a few more minutes of frozen time from the Kirosect. So far he had saved Claire, saved Blinky, saved Bagdwella, got tea for his mom, passed his Spanish test, and recovered the Inferna Coupula. Plus he had managed to spit in Strickler's mouth and mess with Steve.

Now he had the ring and knew where Angor was with the Kill Stone. He pulled his vespa to a screeching halt in front of the troll assassin. Even frozen Angor Rot was terrifying.

Jim checked his phone. He had less than a minute left of stopped time. He could swap the ring for the Kill Stone and get away I time. It maybe he could use the ring to control the assassin? No. He was going to do either of those things.

"For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is Mine to Command."

As the glow of his armor faded Jim watched a single drop of water slowly start to fall as the alarm on his phone sounded. Angor's eyes slowly focused in on him, his expression changing from surprise to rage.

"Haunt-" Angor had stood, pulling his dagger but stopped short when Jim raised the ring. His golden eyes grew wide. "My ring!"

Jim took a deep breath then held out the ring. Angor hesitated as well before reaching and grabbing the ring. His face lit up as he held the ring is soul was bound to.

"Thank you, Haunter." Angor slipped the ring on his own finger. "I will free your mother of the changeling's binding spell. Then I will kill him."

"Please don't." Jim said, his voice sounded bone weary, even in his own ears. Angor Rot paused, giving him a strange look. "Listen, I just spent the past forty minutes racing around trying to save all my friends from different problems. I just thought that maybe nobody had to die."

Jim sighed and turned to his vespa. "I'm not going to bargain with your soul. I can't do that. I can't stop you, you can do whatever you want. But please. No one needs to die today."

Angor paused looking at the ring on his finger. It was his choice, he could decide what to do.

“You would have me spare the man who enslaved me?” Angor growled.

“You are no one’s slave any more.” Jim said simply. “I know it’s not much compared to what he did, but if it makes you feel any better I loogied into Strickler’s mouth while I was using the Kirosect.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Jim demonstrated, then jumped back at strange sound the assassin made. It took a moment to realize that Angor was laughing. It sounded like even he wasn’t used to him making that sound.

“Very well. I will spare the changeling. And I will remove the binding spell. If the changeling is willing I can remove it with out any adverse affects on either of them.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you.” Jim said. Angor’s eyes widened. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone actually apologized to him. “Though I still don’t forgive you for releasing pixies at my school! That was traumatizing.”

Angor let out his strange laugh again, then paused and pulled out a green gem. “You have not asked about the Kill Stone yet.”

“I need the Kill Stone to kill Gunmar. I need to kill Gunmar so I can save Claire’s brother from the Darklands. But I have no power over you. You can do whatever you want.”

The ancient assassin looked at the green gem for a moment. Then tossed it to Jim. “Well played Haunter. Now it is time to hunt.”

He pulled his dagger out, while Jim looked at the Kill Stone. Then Jim caught what Angor was saying. “Wait, I thought you said you weren’t going to kill him?”

“I won’t kill him. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to put the fear of death in him.”

Angor grinned devishley then dashed off. Jim watched him go for a moment then returned to his Vespa. He needed to tell his friends that he had the Kill Stone, especially Claire. They were one step closer to entering the Darklands. And he needed to check on Blinky, to make sure he wasn’t hurt any worse from his ordeal as a human. But first the was someone else he had to talk to.

“Mom?” Jim called into the house. He saw his mom’s car parked in the street and assumed she had come home soon after the run in with Blinky’s troll form.

“Jim?” Barbara was standing in the kitchen.

“Hey I was hoping we could talk. Like actually talk.” Jim said. He was nervous. He knew his mom had every right to be angry at him, but he couldn’t keep the secret anymore.

“Perhaps you would like to talk about how I swear for a second I saw your guidance councilor turn into a blue four armed, six eyed creature, then the next second I was sitting back at my seat in the cafe, with a cup of coffee prepared exactly the way I like it? Exactly the way you make coffee?”

“Uh Yeah, actually.” Jim rubbed the back of his head. Then pulled the amulet from his back pocket. “You might want to sit down.”

It was well past night fall by the time Jim finished explaining. His mom had taken the news pretty well all things considered. She had finished an entire pitcher of water by herself, but had done minimum additional freaking out.

“So let me sum up what you said, to make sure I understand. Trolls exist.” Barbara said.

“Yep.”

“And you were called to be a Trollfighter-”

“Trollhunter.”

“Trollhunter. By a magic amulet.”

“Yeah.”

“Your job is to protect the good trolls from the bad ones.”

“You got it.”

“The bad trolls want to kill you.”

“For the most part yeah.”

“And some of them can look human.”

“Uh,huh.”

“Walter is one of those.”

“That was a surprise to me too.”

“And he raised a troll assassin to kill you.”

“Yeah but he decided against it.”

“And he poisoned me.”

“That’s why you’ve felt these sudden pains without explanation.”

“Is there anything else I missed?”

“Uh, Claire’s brother.”

“Right. Your crush’s brother got trapped in troll hell so now you want to go there and rescue him.”

“Uh, I think Claire’s my girlfriend now. My girlfriend’s brother is trapped in troll hell.”

“Language Jim.”

Barbara leaned back on the couch. She enjoyed the moment of Jim’s mouth flapping open.

“I’m so glad you finally told me everything. I wish it didn’t take my boyfriend drugging me and raising an assassin for you to do so but I’m glad you did. I love you so much, kiddo.”

Barbara hugged Jim tightly. The armor he was still wearing pressed sharply into her skin but she didn’t mind. Eventually she let go and she stood and walked into the kitchen.

“By the way, you are so grounded buster. You should have told me as soon as your life was in danger.”

She stepped fully into the kitchen. At that second she heard the front door slam open. She recognized Walter’s voice immediately.

“Jim! Jim! You have to protect me! Angor is after vengeance and wants to kill me! If you want your mother to live you have to protect me.”

“Hello Walter.” Barbara walked back into the living room from the kitchen, her glass of water in her hand. Walter was on his knees in front of Jim, holding onto his armor. “Let go of my son Walter.”

Strickler tried to straighten himself up and pretend like nothing was wrong. “Ah, Barbara… I was just uh worried-”

“Be quiet Walter.”

“I told her, Strickler. She knows everything. Everything you did to her.”

Strickler gasped and held his hand. Jim turned to see his mom pinching a spot on her hand. She was really digging her nails in.

“And more importantly I know everything you tried to do to my son.” Barbara’s cold fury chilled her words. She moved her hand to spot on her arm and dug her nails in there. Walter grimaced. “Jim dear, why don’t you go downstairs and bring up your friend. I think it’s time we all have a chat.”

Jim’s eyes were wide as he saw Strickler wince again. He hurried downstairs and brought up Draal. The blue troll was a little awkward around Barbara, and was doing everything he could not to immediately crush the changeling.

“None of you understand! Angor Rot is coming! If he kills me, Barbara you will die too! You have to protect me!” Barbara rolled her eyes and ignored him, instead introducing herself to the troll who had been living in her basement for the past couple of months.

“What would they have to protect you from Stricklander?” The voice chilled the blood of everyone in the room.

Walter stood bolt upright as Angor Rot came down the stairs. He transformed ready to fight, pulling multiple knives from his collar. Jim summoned Daylight to his hand, though he was unsure which side of this fight he was on.

All action in the room ceased at a sudden crashing noise. Strickler collapsed multiple bleeding wounds opening spontaneously around the top of his head. Everyone else’s eyes turned to Barbara. She had the shattered remains of her water glass in her hand, multiple cuts on her head and hand.

“Draal, if Walter tries to run, kindly break one of my legs.” Barbara said. She was completely indifferent to the blood running down her face.

“Mom!” Jim cried, shock on his face, all the color draining away.

“Bar-bur-a” Draal said in confusion.

“Now Jim has explained the terms of the Binding spell. I presume you are Angor Rot?” She waited for the assassin’s nod. “What do you need to break the spell?”

“If both halves are willing I can remove it easily. If not it will be more painful. For both of you.” Angor growled out, eyeing Strickler closely. The changeling struggled to stand again.

“If I willingly remove the spell what guarantee do I have that you won’t kill me immediately after?”

Jim opened his mouth to speak but Barbara silence him with a wave.

“No Walter. That isn’t how this is going to go down. You will release me from the binding spell. Because it is the right thing to do and for no other reason. If not I will send my son to Trollmarket. And Draal, Angor and I will get extremely creative with my body.”

“Mom please!” Jim begged. The last thing he wanted was to see her hurt.

“Jim. I’m a doctor. I know the points on my body that are painful but not permanently damaging. I know pressure points. I know how to make a cut that that can be stitched close without leaving a scar. I don’t want you to have to witness that. But I will do what I have to.” Barbara was idly pressing a small towel to the cuts on her head, stopping the bleeding. She turned to Walter. “You have used us and our kindness too many times. You have hurt my family too many times. Now release me.”

“But your memories! If I break the binding spell it will take away your memories during the time.”

It was Angor who intervened. “Fool. Do you think that my magic is so poor that I cannot preserve her memories when I break my spell? As long as you are both willing I can do so with no other harm done.”

Walter dropped his head, then nodded. “I am willing to fix my mistake.”

The morning sun was rising outside. Walter and Barbara were both unconscious. Draal had dropped Strickler on the couch, under Jim’s strict insistence that he not be hurt. Jim had carried his mom upstairs to sleep off the effect of the spell breaking in her bed. Angor was still glaring at the changeling, but made no move to kill him.

Jim rubbed his hand down his face. Watching the spell had been exhausting. Dealing with everything that happened yesterday had been exhausting. Now all he wanted to do was join his mom in sleep. Instead he made himself some coffee. As the smell filled the kitchen Strickler stirred.

“Young Atlas?” His voice was still groggy. Jim walked over to him. He was still wearing his armor. “Is Barbara ok?”

“She’s fine. She’s sleeping upstairs.” Jim thought for a second then shook his head. “Actually you don’t get to ask about her. Either way she will be a hundred percent better now that your spell is broken.”

“Jim…”

“No! You owe us! You owe me!” Jim shouted. “I was the one to convince Angor not to kill you. And he’s had every opportunity while you slept off your magic hangover. You don’t get to pretend you care about us now.”

“Jim?” Barbara’s voice echoed down from the stairs. Jim dashed to the bottom step as she carefully made her way down. She saw Walter on the couch and glared at him.

“You are right Young Atlas. I have wronged both of you. But if I might attempt to start making it up to you.” Jim turned back and glared at him as well. Barbara walked down and put her arm over her son’s shoulders. “You have two of the Triumbric stones now is that not correct?”

“Yes.” Jim held pulled the Kill Stone from his pocket. He stiffened as Walter reached into his own pocket. And pulled a pale blue eye.

“May I present the Eye of Gunmar?” Walter said. Jim took in a deep breath through his teeth. “I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But I have started to care for the two of you. And I am so sorry my actions put the two of you in danger.”

Jim snorted but hesitantly took the Eye Stone from Strickler’s hand.

“Jim, Call your friends, I think it’s high time we talk strategy.” Barbara said, looking at the stone over his shoulder.

Claire and Toby were anxiously watching the clock. Neither had heard from Jim since he used the Kirosect and disappeared in front of them. Suddenly Claire’s phone rang. Jim’s picture appeared. She answered it immediately.

“Jim! Are you Ok? We hadn’t heard from you since yesterday!” Toby pressed close to hear Jim’s response.

“We got it Jim. I’ll pick up Blinky and Aaarrrgghh from Trollmarket and we’ll portal to your basement in a couple of minutes!” Claire said. Then she grabbed her Shadow Staff.

It was time for the Trollhunters to enter the Darklands. It was time to save her brother. It was time...to face Gunmar.

#jim lake jr #walter strickler #angor rot #Barbara Lake #Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #canon divergence #writing emerald #call this one another fix it fic #it doesn't make any sense for jim to try and control Angor #I 'm way happier if he tries to spare him

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