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ericspinkhair · 3 years

Text

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

#kevin moon smut #kevin moon scenario #the boyz kevin smut #the boyz kevin scenario #moon hyungseo smut #moon hyungseo scenario #the boyz kevin moon smut #the boyz kevin moon scenario #the boyz hyungseo smut #the boyz hyungseo scenario #the boyz smut #the boyz scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenarios

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mediocre-writerr · 3 years

Text

a drop in the ocean [lexie grey]

lexie grey x fem reader

requested by anon: OH MY GOD THE CLIFFHANGER IN LOVE IT IF WE MADE IT CAN WE PLEASE HAVE A SECOND PART I LOVE THE ARIZONA AND LEXIE BOND OVER THEIR LOVED ONE

pt.1

*not my gif*

“So Lexie, do you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Webber asked, a lawyer present next to him.

Apparently they just wanted to gather more information about what happened that dreaded day and she was deep in the middle of it. The normal day at the hospital, one where you think that it’ll be a perfectly normal day, but it turns out to be your worst nightmare.

“During which part?” she asked.

“All of it,”

What was there to tell? The most horrific thing that could ever happen at someone’s workplace just happened a couple weeks ago.

Lexie was back to her worst nightmare, but the day just started like any other. The two of you were in the guest bedroom of Meredith’s house or well I guess it’s not the guess bedroom, but you and Lexie’s room.

Meredith let you move in not too long ago. It wasn’t the most ideal living situation, but it got the job done. While the two of you at least saved up for an apartment.

You met Lexie through your best friend Arizona when you transferred from your previous hospital.

“Darling?” Lexie played with your hair as your eyes were still closed.

Your eyes fluttered open to see her head propped up by her elbow as she just stared at you. You gave her a tired smile, before grabbing the hand that propped off her head and pulled her to lie back down with you.

You peppered her faces with kisses and she started giggling, “C’mon, we have a shift in an hour,” you groaned and continued placing kisses all over face, “Love,” she drew out.

“No, I don’t want to go,” you whispered, pulling her closer to her, “Can we just stay here today?”

“Unfortunately not,” she said, “You have a big surgery today with Derek and I am on Meredith’s service,”

You let out a groan, “You’re right,”

“And that’s how your day started?” the lawyer asked.

Lexie nodded, “Yeah, just like any other day. Until of course we went to work and I guess I didn’t notice this until after, but when we first got there Gary Clark was already in the building. If he just shot then, well it would’ve been a completely different story,”

You and Lexie entered the elevators, just as you’re about to go up to the other floors someone stuck their hand out to stop it from closing. It was an older man and he looked somewhat familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place where he was from.

“Going up?” he asked and you nodded with a small smile.

“What floor sir?” you asked, politely.

He looked at the buttons, like he was trying to remember something, “3,” he finally said and you nodded, noticing that he was on the same floor.

The elevator ride up was quiet, you just held Lexie’s hand, fiddling with her fingers. The elevator dinged and all three of you exited at the same time.

“Have a good day,” you said and he just nodded.

“So the two of you didn’t remember Gary Clark and why he was there before, right?” the lawyer brought up again.

“Y/N told me that he looked familiar, but she couldn’t remember where,” Lexie answered.

You looked at her as the two of you reached the residents’ locker room. Lexie was already staring at you with her beautiful brown eyes. You cupped her cheeks softly before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“You have a good day, okay?” you whispered to her, giving her another sweet kiss.

She nodded, “You do too. Rock that surgery. I’ll see you after work?” the brunette asked in more of a question than a statement.

“Always,” you kissed her once more before parting ways.

Mark and Arizona both slide up by your side as you walked down to the attending’s locker room. They had teasing smiles on their faces and you already knew what they were about to say.

“You and Little Grey are really falling in deep, huh?” Mark said, nudging your shoulder.

“She’s so far gone, we can’t save her now,” Arizona added and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Mr. Clark was targeting surgeons, how did he know that Dr. Y/L/N was a surgeon. From Karev’s recollection it looked like he was aiming for the elevator,” the lawyer spoke up.

Arizona cleared her throat before shrugging, “I think Gary saw Y/N talking to Derek. Then it clicked, Y/N helped Derek with the surgery that supposedly killed his wife,”

“Are you ready for the surgery today Y/L/N?” Derek slid up next to you.

You nodded, putting down the chart, that you’ve read once more, “I was born ready!”

He gave you a high five and smiled, “That’s what I wanted to hear! I’ll see you down there!”

You didn’t notice, but the same man in the elevator was there listening to your conversation. Derek was too far away for him to catch up, so he followed you. It was like a stake out or something.

You went to go ask Arizona a question and that’s when you heard the infamous screams. The loud piercing screams that shook you to the core.

“We brought Y/L/N back to the OR, we were able to head down there before they closed it off,” Mark confessed, “We had everything we needed down there, except for an anesthesiologist. Y/N was in a lot of pain,”

Karev placed a rag into your mouth before they started to try and get the bullet out without anything to put you asleep. You closed your eyes as tears started streaming down your face.

The sweat from all of the pain was dripping down your forehead. You kept falling in and out of consciousness because the loss of blood and all the pain was not doing good for your body.

Lexie couldn’t bear just watching you in pain, so she ran down with no hesitation, “Lex-Lexie!” Arizona whisper-yelled, following in after her.

It was too late though, Lexie was already in the OR with her hand squeezing yours. A small smile filed onto your face as the blurry vision of Lexie’s beautiful face filled your vision.

“Hey darling? Can you stay awake for me?” she whispered to you, running her fingers through your hair as you laid on the cool operating table.

You nodded, giving her a smile, but you could tell that your body was growing colder. They finally got a blood bag running through an IV to get you some more blood, but the pain was not subsiding.

“Where’s Arizona?” you whispered.

Finally, Arizona appeared right at your side, “I’m right here,”

“Remember when we were growing up and your dad called you a good man in the storm? You always lived by that,” she just nodded, not knowing where you were going with it, “Can you teach me? I’m scared I’m not strong enough. I think-I might abandon ship,”

Lexie let out a muffled cry at your words. Arizona smiled at you with tears in her eyes. You could tell even from being face to face with death that she was trying to hold it back for you.

You turned back to Lexie about to say something once more, “I told you, we should’ve stayed in bed,” you joked, trying to get a smile on that sad face of hers.

She let out a watery laugh, “That wasn’t funny,”

“But you laughed,”

“You keep fighting, okay? Keep being a good man in the storm,” the brunette whispered to you, kissing your forehead ever so softly, “I love you,”

“I love you,” you told her, “Arizona, teach me now, please. I don’t know how much longer I can-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, you blacked out. A loud beep coming from the monitor, “Karev! She’s flatlining!” Mark yelled.

Karev started compressions as Lexie and Arizona started going hysterical. Mark walked over to the two girls and pushed them away form you as gently as possible.

“The two of you need to stay right here. Karev and I don’t need you going hysterical when we’re trying to save Y/N’s life!”

Lexie was transported back into the conference room with Mark, Arizona, and Alex. The lawyer sitting right in front of them with Dr. Webber at her side. Lexie tried blinking away her tears at the harsh memory.

“Can I go now?” she asked, her voice cracking, and she could tell she was on the verge of a breakdown.

Dr. Webber nodded, “Yeah, you’re all free to go,”

Lexie shot up from out of her seat and ran to the one place where she knew she’d be safe. She entered the familiar room to see you lying there, your eyes skimming through your favorite book.

She let out a breath of relief as she entered the room to see you’re still here. Your eyes lifted from your book to see the relief, slowly overcoming the fear. You scooted over in your bed, patting the seat down next to you.

Your brunette girlfriend didn’t hesitate to come over. She gently slid into your side, clinging her arms around you like a big cuddly koala. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before going back to reading.

Lexie couldn’t stand the silence, it allowed for her thoughts to be too loud, “Would it be okay if you read it to me?” she whispered, “Just so I know you’re still here,”

Your eyes softened at the beautiful girl in your arms. You pressed one more kiss to her forehead before clearing your throat, “I’m learning to deal with that, but yes, I love you. That’s not something I have to work through,”

#lexie grey #lexie grey x reader #lexie grey imagines #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy imagine #lexie grey imagine

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Note

Your writing is my favourite 🥀 Anymore John Stones fics please?

ask, and you shall receive kind anon

here to help

this has been on my mind since i wrote our girl so here’s how john and reader met for that little fic

From the moment you woke up - or rather were woken up this morning - you’d been having one of those days. One of those ‘i really hope no one sits next to me on the train’ days. One of those everything makes you want to cry days. Just one of those days.

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, the late nights and early mornings or the fact that no minute of the day was your own. You were exhausted, drained and in dire need of a long sleep and some food that didn’t come out of a microwave and taste awful.

Probably wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

Except today wouldn’t be one of those ones where someone sits next to you on the train when you would have preferred they didn’t, because when you got on the train that evening after another long day with dark circles under your eyes and an empty stomach because you’d been too busy to take lunch and were run off your feet, there wasn’t a single fucking seat on that train.

Well, one empty seat taken up by a man’s briefcase and umbrella. It was abundantly clear that he had done that so no one would sit next to him and you barely even had the energy to be annoyed. You had made eye contact a short while after getting on and he simply shook his head at you with a scowl. Whether he was saving the seat for someone or he just didn’t want anyone next to him didn’t matter to you, you felt like your legs were going to buckle beneath you and the weight of the two bags you had to carry over one shoulder while your other arm supported the weight of your world while you hold onto the sticky yellow pole with your other hand so you don’t go flying when the train screeches to a stop.

You approached the guy in the suit, eyes pleading. “Look, is there any way that i could-” He cuts you off by pointing the earphones he was wearing and shrugging his shoulder before looking out the window on his left. You might’ve fought, argued with him and gotten yourself a seat, but you just didn’t have that kind of fight in you today and would rather just let him be obnoxious than cause an embarrassing scene on the train.

More embarrassing that you already had at least, trying to wrangle a screaming baby.

There was one man who’s eyes you had felt on you on and off for pretty much the entire time he had been on the train. You were assuming he was judging something about you; be that the exhaustion present in your body and in your face or the way you struggle to hold everything at once. You honestly could’ve cried, everything just felt like it was so, so much. You felt like you were in survival mode, existing only to exist and nobody cared. People looked in and nobody cared.

Until he did.

The tall guy with long legs and fluffy, almost curly, brown hair steps past you, brushing past your shoulder where you stand again in the space near the train doors holding onto the pole. He stands in front of the man you had tried to confront three minutes ago and anger bubbles up under the surface at the thought of him getting that seat.

“Come on mate.” He says, his voice much louder than yours was and more commanding than yours ever would be. The man in the suit takes out his earphone with furrowed eyebrows and a remaining frown. “That’s a spare seat,” he points at the brief case and umbrella sitting, “And that woman just asked you for it.” People start to cast their eyes to him with many sporting subtle grins at this man hogging a seat being put in his place.

“So?” he snarks.

“So?” The tall one echos incredulously, “She’s got a baby with her mate, it’s not safe to be standing there. Just move your shit.” He scoffs, his voice feeling to an irritated grumble. The other guy shakes his head firmly. “Don’t want to be sitting next to a whining baby, do i?”

“It’s alright,” you insist with a sigh and flushed cheeks, “I’ll be fine, honest-“

“No,” he holds up a hand as he turns to offer you a soft smile, his eyes determined as he turns back to the other man. “Move yourself then,” he growls, leaning himself down to get closer so he can speak more hushed as he tightens his muscles and clenches his jaw, “Or I’ll fucking move you myself.”

The guy huffs, grabs his crap and stands up, pushing past the tall man and glaring at you as he passed. You would never have fought it like that, but your aching legs are thankful and someone did. He gives you a smile, helping you into the inside seat before moving to walk away when he hears your voice. “You can sit there, if you like?”

You fully expect him to reject. Not many would want to sit next to ragged looking woman with. slobbery teething baby who keeps making sounds as though she’s going to start wailing at any moment. But his lips just stretch back into that smile as he turns and takes the seat next to you happily. “Thank you for that,” you mutter quietly, cheeks still flushed. He shrugs his shoulders, turning his eyes to your little girl in your lap. “Don’t mention it,” he smiles, waving his large at the eight month old. “I’m John.”

You shake his hand, “(y/n).” You greet in response.

“(y/n),” he repeats, eyes sparking. “And who’s this little lady eh? She’s adorable.” He coos at your daughter chewing on her fingers. You while her chin with the bib she’s wearing carefully to catch her teething dribbles, “This is Poppy, she’s teething. Sorry.” You grimace, referencing to her unhappy gurgles and constant wriggling.

“Don’t be silly,” he insists, “There are far worse passengers to sit next to, isn’t that right little miss Poppy?”

You almost feel your eyes getting a little wet at his kindness to you and to her. It seems as though you don’t get it that much these days. You’d thought that single mother had a bit more respect these days, but it seemed as though it wasn’t much better than you’d thought it would be at it’s worst. But John was kind, he was sweet and funny, cooing at the little girl until she giggled back at him, patting his face with John just laughing off your apology.

“Here,” John begins as the train pulls into the station that he knew was his stop and appeared to also be yours, “let me get those.”

Before you can even protest he lifts up the well stocked baby bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he picks up your own bag and and helps you out if your seat.

He talks and you laugh at his jokes for the entire walk to your car. You wouldn’t usually humour many people, very least men but he was funny and kind and your heart has already warmed up to him so quickly. The way he puts your bags in the boot and hands Poppy her little teething key ring as you clip her into her car seat. She gurgles happily at him with a big gummy smile and god your heart sings at the sight of him getting on so well with your little girl who’s dad left a week and a half after she was born much to your heartache.

“Sorry if this too forward,” he clears his throat, shuffling nervously between his feet. “But i’d love to see you again…both of you.”

Your heart lights up, your cheeks flushing a soft red as you smile up at him, nodding. “That would be nice.” You reply, pulling your phone out your back pocket to pull up your number from him to put into his phone. “I’ll call you tonight.” He promised.

And call you he did, shortly after 7 and talked to you for two hours while you fed and put the baby to bed and before you knew it, you had a close friend offering to take Poppy for the night so you could go to dinner with John. Then Poppy got sick and you had to cancel, thinking you’d completely scuppered any chance at this relationship until John showed up on the doorstep with a food in a bag and some candles. He cooked, you bathed the baby and he took pictures of you both giggling hysterically with her penguin towel wrapped around her with the little hood over her sparse hair. He’d never smiled so much in all of his life.

You ate John’s meal at the kitchen table when she went to bed he stayed the night when you both fell asleep on the couch.

From that day forward, this was John’s family.

His perfect little family.

#john stones #john stones blurb #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #john stones x reader #england national team imagine #manchester city imagine #football #football fic #footie fics #footballer fics

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jayeeintheclouds-inactive · 3 years

Text

wake up, stop dreaming

(part 1 of empty thrones and heavy crowns)

Notes: angst, major character death, second archon war, adeptus reader, dying zhongli, dead xiao + other adepti, au where rex lapis still has his gnosis, geo reader, implied (very vague) past zhongchi, unedited i have a project due in 3 days and i have not started procrastination 101

Summary: When your beloved father dies, a part of you does too.

Baba: Father in Chinese

a/n: pls forgive me i can’t describe dead bodies or write angst properly. oh the woes of being illiterate 👍

Your father had graced the world of Teyvat with his presence for nearly ten thousand years, and you think that you should’ve seen this coming.

Screams and shouts of the people of Liyue fill the air continously, becoming a constant ringing in your ear. But that is not what you focus on right now.

“Rest,” You whisper with a sad but serene look on your face. In your arms lay Xiao, who has finally succumbed to the darkness he had battled for years. He is dying, and you know that. There is nothing you can do to help him.

“You’ve served Liyue for so long. Take your well-deserved break, Alatus.” Your voice trembles, yet you still put a smile on your face for him. He opens his eyes for the last time, and you watch helplessly as his amber eyes lose all light. There is an uncharacteristic smile on his face.

Slowly, you lift his body from your lap and lay it down on the ground, making sure to arrange his blood-stained hair in the most presentable way possible. Caressing his hair, you carefully slot a Qingxin flower between his broken fingers - two of the flower’s petals have fallen off, and the rest are crumpled and dried. You don’t care.

Just as Xiao’s body starts to disintegrate into blue particles, you place a chaste kiss on his forehead before his body completely disappears. You mutter a soft prayer for your fallen friend and fellow adeptus whose contributions to Liyue will never be forgotten.

You look around. Your heart feels empty, and even though you know why, you don’t wish to face the truth. Many of the adepti, like Ganyu and Mountain Climber have long ascended to Celestia. If you could turn a blind eye to the blood-stained mountaintops of Jueyun Karst, you would’ve almost fooled yourself into thinking that this was just another peaceful, tranquil day.

But then a chill runs down your spine, and that’s when you know something isn’t right. Instinctively, you teleport to your father.

That’s where you see your worst nightmare.

Rex Lapis, in all his pride and glory, is sprawled on the ground. His archon clothing is torn and bloodied; a huge gash is visible on his chest. What usually was neat and smooth brown hair was now tangled and spread on the floor, with burnt edges of his hair. Most importantly, his eyes are shut. They shouldn’t be.

“Baba!” You scream hysterically the moment you see his state, and rush over to him at once.

“No. No, no. No,” You mutter, your face drained of colour. Gently, you turn his body around with shaky hands. Rex Lapis in his human form groans softly, letting you know that there is still life in him, and you release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

But the hope doesn’t last long. Similar to what you saw when you were with Xiao, the light in your father’s eyes is fading.

He sees you, and he cracks a smile. Wincing, he raises his right hand to place it on your cheek. You hold it firmly.

“You... you shouldn’t see me like this...” He mutters weakly, still fighting to keep the smile on his face. You choke on your tears.

He continues. “How many years... have I been on this world?”

“Shut up. You aren’t dying,” You lie to him (and yourself).

He only chuckles, but coughs out blood right after. You try hard not to grimace or cry louder.

“I’ve finished all my duties...”

“No.”

“Both Celestia and I believe...”

“No.”

“...that is it time I step down...”

“No!”

He ignores your pleas. “Do you remember when you were a very young adeptus... you were too scared to... let my hand go...”

You squeeze his hand tighter against your cheek, staining it with your tears.

“I do remember. And I am still scared to let it go.”

Because I fear that if I let it go, you will be gone forever.

It’s like your father can read your thoughts. He takes your other hand that is gripping on his archon clothing tightly, and caresses your hand with it. You can feel how his fingers tremble ever so slightly, getting his blood on your hands. You pay no mind.

“...Your dad and I will be waiting for you.”

“No. You aren’t going. Not now.”

But you too think that it is finally his time to go. He has been on this world for so long - just how many years of suffering and grief has he endured? You don’t want to imagine. Both you and your father believe that he should be having his well deserved break in Celestia, but right now, you can’t help but selfishly wish for him to stay with you just a little longer.

His fingers start to lose grip, and you swallow a scream.

“I hate you, Baba.”

“...I know, and I’m sorry. I love you.”

“...Will you tell me what Celestia is like when you reach there? I want to hear your stories again.”

“...Of course.”

When he finally goes limp in your arms, a part of you dies.

It’s like you’re a robot. You can’t tell what expression you’re making right now. Is it grief? Is it denial? Is it frustration?

His cold dead body is still in your arms, and even though your brain is screaming at you, He’s dead, he’s dead! There’s no use! You are desperately searching for any sign at all that would provide you the littlest of hope.

But there is nothing. His body is cold, his limbs unmoving, and his heart dead silent.

You finally scream.

Refusing to let go of his body, you hug his corpse tightly to you. You can’t hear anything now. The screams and shouts of the citizens of Liyue sound like they know that their archon has fallen - but you can’t hear it.

A golden flower shaped like a glaze lily blooms from the ground, courtesy of your Geo powers. But even though you are the one who summoned it, you don’t seem to notice as its petals engulf the whole of you and your father. You are about to sleep for a few thousand years, until you can face the truth again; which is probably never.

So what if you are running away from reality? Your world is dead anyway.

a/n: holy shit this is a piece of trash lets hope the other chapters aren’t as bad. was the death scene too short? i’ll try to fix it when i have the time.

#genshin #genshin impact #angst #genshin angst #zhongli #adeptus reader #platonic zhongli x reader #i am addicted to zhongchi love child au #zhongli angst

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miraclesabound · 2 years

Text

To The Rescue

Summary: When Jake gets overwhelmed after a mission, he sends Steven to look after his sick daughter and his exhausted partners.

Word Count = 861

Pairing/Ship: Jake Lockley x Mina Harris (F!OC) x Jonathan Harris (M!OC), platonic Steven and Mina and Jonathan

Notes/Warnings: Description of a sick child, mention of injuries. Set after Season 1 in a time where Marc and Steven are now aware of Jake, and the guys are all generally cordial with each other. Jake and Mina and Jon are an established polyamorous triad.

Tag List: @autumnleaves1991-blog , @princessxkenobi , @recklessworry , @writeforfandoms , @thetrashqueen23, @iamthecabbage , @halsmultibitch , @lexiwoods, @djconde58 , @uwiuwi

Join my tag list here!

“Hi, I’m Steven – Jake said you needed m-oofmphf!” Steven didn’t get to finish his sentence – the woman who opened the door threw her arms around him and nearly knocked him over. As he steadied himself, he felt the woman’s shoulders start to shake, and she let out a few gasping sobs. “Hey, hey…” he soothed. “I have you, yeah? You’re Mina, right?”

Mina stood back and nodded while she wiped her tears. “Yeah, that’s me – sorry for pouncing like that…what exactly did Jake tell you?”

“Left me a note with the basics,” Steven said. “Hope you know, he wasn’t keeping you a secret, he loves you and Jonathan and Quinn so much, he brags about you all the time to Marc and me – he just had a really bad time after the last mission.”

“That’s what he said when he called,” Mina agreed. “It’s just really rotten timing – Quinn has been sick for the last three days, and she and Jon and I are all exhausted…” She indicated the open door, and Steven followed her inside. “We called a doctor, and she doesn’t need the hospital, but it’s still scary.”

“Yeah that’s the worst…” Steven looked around the house, and then he heard noise coming from the living room. “That them?”

“Yeah, go on in.”

“Thanks.”

Steven poked his head into the room, and the sight made his heart twinge. A man about his age was sprawled on an old-fashioned couch, trying to comfort the toddler he was holding close to his chest. The little girl in question wasn’t hysterical, but tear marks were visible on her cheeks. When she turned to see who had come in, Steven could tell she had Jake’s eyes.

The man, who must be Jonathan, flicked his eyes over to Steven and simply said, “Hey, so glad you could make it. I know this wasn’t how you wanted to meet all of us.”

“It happens,” Steven shrugged. “What’ll help more – me taking Quinn or doing chores?”

“Please take Quinn,” Jonathan said. “The chores can wait, but she needs someone with her, and Mina and I are both wrung out.”

“Got it.”

Steven walked over and scooped the little girl up in his arms. She started to catch her breath, and Steven didn’t blame her when she looked at him questioningly. “Papa?”

“No, little one, not papa – I’m a friend o’ his. He said you don’t feel good?” She shook her head. “Well that just won’t do then, will it? We’re gonna figure it out so your mum and dad can rest, ok?” She nodded and curled into his shoulder. “There ya go, love.” Mina tapped him on the shoulder, and he said, “Just show me where things are and I’ll get it sorted. When does she need to eat?” Mina ran down the schedule with him, and then she and Jonathan retreated upstairs to take a nap.

Quinn couldn’t help giggling, even as Steven playfully shushed her. “C’mon now,” he said, “your parents have to wake up so we can see what they want to eat.” He knocked on the master bedroom door, using his free hand to hold Quinn up on his hip. “Can we come in?”

“Sure,” he heard Mina say groggily. When he and Quinn walked in, Mina flipped on a side table light, and she and Jon both sat up, rubbing their eyes. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half past six – figured you two would be hungry. Want some takeaway?”

“Three hours we slept?” Jon asked. “Holy cow…yeah, I know I don’t feel like cooking – honey?”

“No chance,” Mina said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinkin’…” Steven pulled his cellphone from his pocket, and he then had to restrain Quinn from grabbing for it. “No, Quinnie, we’ve gone over this, this is mine, and you don’t get one ‘til you’re older.” Quinn pouted, but she crawled into her mother’s arms anyway. Steven went back to his phone. “Where was I…oh yeah, saw that there’s Chinese and Indian places, there’s pizza…” They ended up deciding on Indian, since Quinn was old enough to have rice and some chicken.

Steven stayed that night and the next, and though Mina and Jon offered to let him share the bed upstairs with them, he wouldn’t hear of it.

“That’s Jake’s spot, not mine,” he’d said. “I’ll take the couch.”

As such, when Mina woke up on that final morning and saw a third person wedged between her and Jon, she smiled warmly, and reached over to smooth Jake’s curls. “Hi honey,” she whispered. “We missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Jake yawned as he blinked awake. “How’d it go with Steven?”

“Brilliant – Quinn adores him and he’s been so good with her – and still respectful of our boundaries as parents.”

“Glad to hear it – is Quinn doing better?”

“Looks to be on the mend, but if you want to sit in on her video appointment with the doctor today, I bet she’d like that.”

“Sounds great.” By this point Jon had woken up, and Jake asked, after kissing his cheek, “What would you two say to joining me in the shower?”

#moon knight #moon knight spoilers #jake lockley x oc #sick fic #steven grant

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giggles-and-tiggles · 3 years

Text

We’ll Find That Smile

Thank you so much for this kind message! People probably aren’t sending in many things because of the fact that I just started this blog, or they just simply don’t know that my prompts are open lol. But THANK YOU! This prompt was amazing and I was honestly so excited to write for it. Thanks for your inspiration! I couldn't sleep and felt the need to post this at 3 am.

PLATONIC Avengers x Reader

Summary: You had a hard day at school, but when you get home, you see that the Avengers will always have a way to get you smiling again.

Word Count: 1,777

<3 Reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

~~*~~

It was a rather calm Thursday afternoon. You had just gotten out of school and were entering the Avengers compound. You were walking in all by yourself because you had declined Happy’s offer to drive you home. So he and Peter got home way before you did. You just needed time to yourself and you figured that walking home was the best way to do it.

Your day at school wasn’t the best. You couldn’t get any of your assignments correct, you kept messing up your locker combination, you dropped all of your belongings in the middle of the hallway, all of your mechanical pencils never had led in them, and you wet your sleeves when you were washing your hands. Your mind was just in a completely different place and everything just went wrong.

Soon enough, you reached the living room where everyone seemed to be hanging out. They all looked up from what they were doing to see you walk through the door. You’ve spent a lot of time with the Avengers, so they could tell just by the look on your face and your general posture that something was wrong.

“Hey hun.” Wanda greeted. “Everything alright?” You didn’t really want to tell the Avengers what was wrong. You felt like you were upset for a stupid reason, and you would just waste their time explaining.

“Yeah everything’s fine!” You said, trying to hurry to the stairs so you could get to your room as fast as possible. Tony then stood in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

“You didn’t want to ride home with Happy and Peter.” He said. “Any particular reason why?”

You just looked down at your shoes. “Uhm no. I just wanted alone time. Y’know just me and my thoughts.”

Tony stared at you in disbelief. He wasn’t buying a single word that was slipping out of your mouth. “Alright fine. But before you head up to your room, do you think I could get a famous Y/N smile?” Damn. Tony was onto you.

You slowly picked your head up to look at him and slightly twitched the corner or your lip upwards.

“Ha! That was the worst smile I’ve ever seen! I knew something was wrong.” Tony exclaimed. “Spill it kid, what’s up with you?”

You sighed and looked anywhere, but at Tony. “It’s nothing important. You don’t need to worry about it.” You tried to walk over to the staircase again, but Tony scooped you up and tossed you on the couch in between Steve and Peter.

“I’m fine! Can I please go in my room?” You asked, trying to get up again.

Steve grabbed your shoulder and sat you back down. “I know this is going to sound really cliché, but you know you can tell us anything, right?” Steve stared into your eyes with nothing but love and kindness. “No matter how stupid you think the reason may be, we still care.”

“You’ve been acting differently all day, Y/N.” Peter said, trying to get you to look at him. “I wanna help you.”

“I say we just hang her upside down until she tells us what’s been bugging her.” Clinton joked. There were some collective giggling after Barton’s comment.

“I second Barton’s idea!” Bucky chimed. A joke like that usually would’ve made you laugh, but right now you couldn’t even work up a proper smile.

“Y/N doesn’t seem to be very pleased with your commentary right now, guys.” Natasha said with a smile, looking you dead in the eye.

“N-No it’s fine.” You spoke. “It’s funny.”

Peter blinked at you in confusion. “So then why aren’t you laughing?”

You simply shrugged. “I just don’t feel like it right now.”

“You don’t...feel like laughing?” Peter repeated.

You nodded. “Damn. That’s the saddest shit I’ve heard all day..” Barton was quickly silenced by a smack behind the head by Natasha.

“How about a nice smile?” Steve said, nudging your shoulder and giving you a smile of his own. You really tried, but you just ended up pressing your lips together. It looked nothing like a smile.

“I take back what I said before.” Tony said, taking a seat in front of you. “That was the worst smile I’ve ever seen.”

“Sorry. I just can’t...right now.” You sighed.

“Well that’s alright, hun. We’ll help you.” Natasha said, making her way over to you and taking a seat next to Tony. “Anyone got any jokes or something?”

“Yeah, I have one!” Peter chimed. You gave your attention to Peter and waited for his joke. “What do you call a pig that does karate?”

“What do you call it, Pete?” Tony sighed, knowing that this joke was going to be bad.

“A porkchop!”

Silence rang throughout the entire living room.

“Aha! I get it!” Steve laughed, “Why aren’t we laughing? It was funny!” He looked around, hoping for someone to agree with him. “What? Do you guys not get it or something? It’s because it’s a pig that-”

“No, Steve.” Natasha said, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We get it, it’s just that the joke was so horrible, no one found it funny.”

“Well how could you not find it funny? It was clearly-”

“Rogers. The joke was corny. End of conversation.” Tony stated.

“How was the joke corny? It got straight to the point, it made sense-”

“It was bad, Steve! It was a dad joke!”

You watched the two quarrel over something as silly as a joke Peter made. It was amusing to you. You didn’t even notice the smile that sprouted on your face.

“Hey, well you would look at that.” Peter smiled, looking at you. “Is that a smile I see, Y/N?” Tony and Steve stopped their bickering to look at your face.

“Huh, I think it is.” Tony said, adjusting his glasses and squinting his eyes. That only made you smile harder.

“Now can we get a laugh?” Steve asked, poking your side, causing you to jerk violently and bump into Peter’s shoulder. Everyone’s eyes widened in realization, and evil smirks soon took over their faces.

“I think I have an idea on how to get Y/N laughing.” Steve grinned. “Hey, Buck help me hold her down, would ya?” Bucky quickly got up from his chair and made his way over to you.

You felt your heart sink. They were going to tickle you to pieces. No doubt about it.

“No! Wait guys, dohohon’t!” You said, already giggling nervously.

“You don’t even know what we’re going to do yet.” Bucky smiled, lightly pushing you on your back and getting a hold on your right arm while Steve got a hold on your left one.

“NONONO! Let mehe goho! Plehease don’t tickle me!” You begged.

“Ah, so you do know what we’re going to do.” Tony grinned, cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers in front of you. “Pete, wanna get her armpits while I get her ribs?” A wide smile took over Peter’s face as he made his way over to your head and placed his hands right in front of your armpits, just to taunt you.

“Noho! Get away from me! Lehehet mehehe up!” You struggled, trying your best to get out of Steve and Bucky’s grip. Obviously, it didn’t work.

“Not until we see that smile.” Natasha said, hovering her hands over you thighs.

“Alright guys, tickle her in …3″

“NOHO!”

“2″

“STOHOP!”

“1.”

“TONY I SW - EHEHEHEHAHAHAHAH!”

You screamed at the top of your lungs. Peter had dug into your armpits, Tony started vibrating all ten of his finger son your ribs, and Natasha started squeezing the insides of your thighs. Hysterical laughter was instantly ripped out of your chest and you had the biggest goofy smile on your face.

“Awhh. There it is~” Peter cooed.

“That’s the smile we wanted! Keep it up, Y/N!” Steve teased.

“IHIHIHIHI DOHOHON’T HAHAHAVE A CHOHOHOICE!” You squealed.

“Well, at least you know.” Tony smirked.

You jerked left and right, desperately trying to get free. Since no one was holding down your feet, you tried kicking, but now matter what you did, Natasha’s hands were glued to the inside of you thighs.

“Wanna tell us why you were feeling down?” Bucky asked.

“NOHOHOHOHO! IHIHIHIHIT’S STUHUHUHUHUHUPID!”

“Wow you asked for this.” Tony said, blowing a long raspberry on your tummy.

You tossed your head back and screamed, giving Steve and Bucky a perfect view of your smile.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOHOP!”

“Tell us what’s been bugging you and we may consider stopping.” Tony said.

“IHIHIHIHI TOHOHOHOHOHOLD YOHOHOHO IHIHIHIT DOHOHOESN’T MAHAHATTER!”

“Alright well, there’s more where that came from.” Tony said, blowing another raspberry right above your belly button. You shrieked and threw your head back once again.

“We’ve already discussed that nothing you say will be stupid.” Steve reassured in a caring tone.

“OHOHOHOHOKAY! LEHEHEHET MEHEHEH GOHOHOHO AHAHAHAND IHIHIHI’LL TEHEHELL YOHOHOU!” You begged, not knowing how much more of this you could take.

“Absolutely not. We still want that smile.” Tony grinned.

“BUHUHUHUT YOHOHOU SAHAHAHID IHIHIF IHIHI TOHOHOLD YOHOHOU, YOHOHOU WOHOHOULD LEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHO!”

“I did not say that. I said that I would consider stopping.” Tony corrected.

“I didn’t get to see your smile all day, Y/N!” Peter said down at your hysterical state. “Why would we stop so soon?”

“BEHEHECUASE IHIHI CAHAHAN’T TAHAHAKE AHAHANY MOHOHORE!”

“You can do whatever you set your mind to, Y/N!” Natasha teased.

“IHIHIHIHIH’M GOHOHOHNNA DIHIHIE!”

“Oh don’t be such a drama queen. We’d never kill you.” Tony said.

These guys really weren’t giving you any mercy. Tears started welling up in your eyes from laughing too hard and your chest started to burn. Your laughter went completely silent and everyone stilled their fingers. Bucky and Steve let you go, and watched you trying to catch up with your breath.

“Yohohou guhuhys are are mean.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Steve chuckled as he sat down next to you. “You ready to tell us now?”

“My mind was just in a different place today. I didn’t feel like myself. Everything I did just went wrong.” You sighed.

They all look at you with love and compassion. “It’s alright, kiddo. We all have those kinds of days.” Tony said, rubbing his thumb on your cheek.

“You guys wanna turn on a movie or something?” Bucky asked.

“Sure, Barnes.” Tony agreed.

“You down to watch a movie, Y/N/N?” Natasha asked.

“Mhm. I’m feeling a lot better.” You smiled. You got all snuggled up with the Avengers and this day really made you realize how grateful you were to have them.

Even if they tickled you to bits sometimes.

~~*~~

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thisissirius · 3 years

Text

for @gracieli and the ladies of the discord *chef’s kiss*

i’ve only known you to keep your word buck/eddie, buck, eddie, chris, hurt/comfort, a little frottage, buck being lonely and eddie seeing and helping

Buck barely has time to sit down and attempt to handle the silence in his apartment when a key jams into the lock of his front door and it swings open.

Eddie comes into the apartment, two bags in hand, and beer in the other. “Get the door?”

Buck stares.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

When Eddie’s shut the door, Buck finds his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Bringing food,” Eddie says, and Buck hears the duh even if he doesn’t say it. “Not that I’m cooking it. You are.” He flashes a smile.

Buck snorts, moving past his confusion and grabbing for the beer. “Maybe I wanna watch you fail.”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s your apartment. Also possibly your funeral.”

Saluting Eddie with his bottle, he goes to the cutlery drawer and grabs a bottle opener. “Why are you really here?”

There’s a long, drawn out silence where Eddie just stares at him. Buck feels uncomfortable under the scrutiny in ways he hasn’t before. It seems like ever since they came back from Texas, Eddie’s been—Buck doesn’t know how to explain it.

“Chris is at a sleepover,” Eddie says eventually. He makes a face. “You know how I feel about that.”

Buck does. Eddie’s only ever antsy and weird when Chris isn’t around. “Such a drama king,” he says.

“Whatever. We cooking or what?”

“Fine,” Buck says with a sigh, hip checking Eddie out of the way, ducking away from the elbow Eddie aims at his side. “Don’t beat up the person who’s saving you from food poisoning, Diaz.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, but he starts emptying out the bags. Spaghetti. He’s so transparent but Buck hides his smile by taking a pull of beer. Buck’s spaghetti is Christopher’s favourite and Buck’s got no doubts Eddie’s brought enough ingredients for extra portions. Something like happiness blossoms in Buck’s chest and he covers it with a knowing smirk.

“Really?”

“Shut up,” Eddie grouses. “You try telling Chris we had spaghetti and didn’t save him any.”

“No thanks,” Buck says immediately. “I do not court death.”

It makes Eddie laugh, which is Buck’s aim, after all, and he grins his way through the meal prep. _______

Later, stomach full and the happiness a comfortable constant, Buck is stretched out on the couch, another bottle of beer resting against his hip, one arm tucked under his head. He is super conscious of one of his legs resting over Eddie’s lap, Eddie’s fingers circling his ankle.

“I don’t understand why they don’t just talk to each other.”

Eddie gives him a look. “It’s a movie, Buck.”

“So?” Buck watches as neither of the characters communicate. Again. “How hard is it to talk about your feelings?”

There’s a pointed silence.

“Whatever,” Buck grouses. “We have notable trauma, they don’t.”

“Noticeable trauma,” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow.

Buck kicks him with the leg that isn’t held hostage. “Be nice, Eddie, or you can go home.”

“You wouldn’t kick me out,” Eddie says with certainty.

Falling quiet, Buck turns back to the movie, but he’s not really watching it. Eddie’s not wrong. He wouldn’t kick Eddie out. Ever. Even in their worst moments, the only thing he wanted was for Eddie to come back, for them to be them again.

The movie finishes and Buck blinks. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He removes his hands from Buck’s ankle. Buck can still feel the phantom heat of his fingers. “Come on, time for bed.”

Buck frowns. “I was comfortable.”

“And we can be comfortable upstairs,” Eddie says, once again with the duh unspoken. “Up, Buckley, let’s go.”

Buck feels a little adrift as they walk up to his bedroom. Honestly, he’s been feeling that way most of the night and he doesn’t know how to make sense of what he’s feeling. Leaning against the balcony railing, he watches Eddie root through his drawers, grabbing sleep clothes. “Eddie—“

“Wash up,” Eddie tells him, tossing over the clothes.

Though the fight is on the tip of his tongue, Buck keeps it to himself. He realises he doesn’t want to argue and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He stares at himself in the mirror. The silence that usually crowds him in the evenings he’s alone is absent and there’s comfort in Eddie being a yell away. He relaxes, washing up and getting changed.

When he comes out, Eddie moves past him, a hand brushing his hip and Buck shivers. The touch feels deliberate and Buck’s thrown back over the last couple of hours. Everything Eddie’s done is just what Buck needs. It overwhelms him and he sits on the edge of the bed, not sure what happens next. Will Eddie get blankets and go downstairs? Worse, will he want to share a bed? What if he wants to talk—

“Buck,” Eddie says gently, resting a hand on Buck’s shoulder making him jump. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Buck says, smiling softly. “Sorry.”

Eddie’s hand squeezes before it falls to his side. “Get in the bed.”

“Are you—”

“Come on,” Eddie says, and it could easily be an order, but for the tone. Buck doesn’t like being pushed around and it shows that Eddie knows that; he’s careful, gentle, and Buck nods, climbing into bed.

Buck rolls over, watches Eddie as he shuts off the light and charges his phone. Buck panics for a moment, before seeing his own on the nightstand. His heart picks up a beat, twop, and he’s holding his breath. Maybe if he doesn’t move this won’t stop being a dream. It still feels like one when Eddie reaches out, fingers sliding through the hair that’s soft against Buck’s forehead. “Sleep, Buck.”

Buck doesn’t know if he can.

“You save me from my nightmares,” Eddie says, with a self-deprecating smile.

I’ll save you from yours.

Buck closes his eyes and breathes out.

Buck’s not quite sure what to make of it..

_______

The next morning, Eddie burns breakfast (of course), abandons it (of course), and bundles himself and Buck in the truck to get breakfast—and to pick up Chris.

“Bucky!” Chris pokes his head into the car and grins.

Buck will never not love hanging out with Chris and he leans over the seat to give Chris a high five. “Sleepover okay?”

“Jamie’s got a hamster,” Chris starts.

“No,” Eddie says immediately, buckling his seatbelt.

Chris looks at Buck. Buck looks at Eddie.

“No,” Eddie says again.

Buck smiles at Chris and turns back around. They’ve got this.

_______

Two very full shifts later and Buck is sitting in the locker room, staring at his duffle. He doesn’t know if he’s got the energy to pack the rest of his shit in there and move, let alone drive home. His body aches, bruises starting to blossom from the fall he’d taken on a previous call, and he hisses as he stands.

The prospect of going home alone, tending to his hurts and sleeping in that bed all alone—Buck’s breath hitches and he closes his eyes, forehead pressed to the lockers.

There’s a rap on the glass and Buck whirls around, ready to put up the front, make out he’s okay, and deflates when he sees Eddie. Neither of them says anything for a moment, and then Eddie’s moving into the room, wordlessly packing the rest of Buck’s stuff into his bag. Buck doesn’t know where he gets his energy from. “Eddie.”

“You look like you’re gonna fall over,” Eddie says, frowning.

“Sorry,” Buck starts.

“Why?” Eddie looks up at him, surprised.

Buck sits on the bench again, cradling his ribs. They’re not broken, says Hen and Chim both, but they still hurt like a bitch. “Give me a minute and I’ll be good to go. You should go ome to Chris.”

“That’s not happening,” Eddie says. “I mean alone,” he amends, interpreting Buck’s expression correctly. “You’re coming with me.”

“Eddie—”

“Don’t argue with me.” Eddie straightens up, Buck’s bag on one shoulder, his on the other. “You alright to move?”

Buck nods, gives himself a minute to breathe in and out slowly, then pushes himself to his feet. He winces when his ribs twinge. “You can drop me off, it’s fine.”

Eddie stops them, hand on Buck’s arm. His thumb is resting against Buck’s pulse point and Buck wonders, a touch hysterically, if he can feel it racing. “You’re coming home with me,” he says again, gentler this time. “You’re always allowed to ask me for help.”

Breath catching in his throat, Buck doesn’t know how to answer that. Eddie swipes his thumb once across the skin of Buck’s wrist then lets go.

“I’ll tell Chris not to jump on you,” Eddie tells him as they head out of the station. “He’s still banned from video games, so you’ll have to entertain him some other way.”

“It’s not like we haven’t had to before,” Buck says, falling into the banter with ease. “At least this time it’s a deserved punishment and not his dad being a technophobe.”

Eddie glares at him over the top of the truck. “Hildy was watching me! She sees it all!”

Buck laughs, wincing as he slides into the passenger set, but the pain is worth it. Eddie helps with the seatbelt, which would be humiliating if Buck wasn’t used to this. “Does Chris know I’m coming?”

“Nope,” Eddie says, putting the truck in reverse. “Carla would kill me for one. Secondly, I’d hate to ruin the surprise.”

Eddie’s smile is fond and Buck can’t help but match it, relaxing back against the seat. He can’t wait to walk through that door and let Chris fill all the spaces that have grown in him since the last time. It always feels like coming home. Buck closes his eyes, pushes down the feeling. Chris isn’t his and he should remember that.

“You still with me?”

Buck opens his eyes, head turning to look at Eddie. Eddie spares him a glance, then looks back at the road. “I’m not gonna be good company,” he tries again. If he brings Chris and Eddie down with his mood, he’ll never forgive himself.

“You think I was after the well?” Eddie huffs out a laugh. “Please, Buck, we’ll ply you with painkillers, Chris can talk your ear off about whatever it is you two get excited about, then we’ll go to sleep. It’s not that hard.”

“I could have done that at home.”

“Yes,” Eddie allows, Buck fascinated with how soft his touch when the steering wheel slides through his fingers. Why is everything about Eddie so gentle? “But I’d rather you be somewhere I can keep an eye on you.”

The words signal exasperation, but the tone is fond, the smile on Eddie’s face soft. Buck so often feels like a burden but Eddie’s acting like he isn’t. That this is something he wants to do, help Buck and make him—

“Fuck.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, sounding worried. “Are you crying?”

“No,” Buck bites out, swiping at his face with the hand not pressed to his ribs. “Please keep driving.”

Eddie does, thankfully, and Buck grits his teeth against the urge to keep crying. “I’m sorry.”

It’s Buck’s turn to be confused. “Why?”

“If you’re crying because someone wants to take care of you, I’ve been a shitty best friend.”

_______

The words are still rattling around Buck’s head when it comes time for bed.

Chris is already tucked in, having dragged a story from both Buck and Eddie, and Eddie’s been putting stuff away in the kitchen, talking in low tones to Buck through the door. Buck’s been half paying attention, his mind still on the conversation in the car.

When Eddie steps back into the room, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans, he gives Buck a smile. “Ready for bed?”

“Yeah,” Buck says. “Toss some blankets, yeah?”

“As if,” Eddie says without hesitation. “No way are you taking the couch with those ribs.”

“Eddie,” Buck says. Eddie pauses at whatever he hears in Buck’s tone. Buck’s not sure how he sounds, barely knows how he feels. “What you said in the truck—”

There’s no judgement, no embarrassment. “Yeah?”

Buck opens his mouth, closes it. “You haven’t been a shitty best friend.”

“I have,” Eddie presses. Then, with a sigh, “sometimes.”

“So have I.” Buck groans as he rights himself, grateful when Eddie holds out a hand and takes most of his weight to help him stand. “I don’t know how to accept it. Someone taking care of me.”

Eddie nods. Buck doesn’t know how he always gets it, how he knows Buck so well when Buck barely knows what’s happening inside of his own head. Eddie’s hands are on his hips and he tugs a little, careful so that Buck doesn’t stumble, and drags him into a hug. Buck lets out a shaky breath, turns his face into Eddie’s neck. The angle would be awkward but for his stoop and he lets himself take the comfort Eddie’s offering.

“I know,” Eddie says quietly, a kiss ghosting over Buck’s temple. “You will.”

_______

Over the following two days, Buck’s body mends and he’s able to move without wanting to punch himself in the face. He spends the time dicking around on his phone—having a photo off with Marjan about which one of them is more internet famous—and letting Chris talk him into playing almost his entire catalogue of video games.

Eddie’s a silent presence in the background. He disappears for work, leaving Carla in charge, and she spends most of the time feeding Buck, berating him for not looking after himself, and throwing him knowing looks. Buck doesn’t know what she’s getting at. When Eddie comes home, he manages to put together a good dinner (Buck finds the takeout containers in the trash), settle down with them in front of the TV and throw an arm over Buck’s shoulders, squeeze against him even when there’s space, and on the second night, when they’re an hour into the movie, Buck can feel Eddie’s fingers playing with his hair.

It startles him, but he does his best not to react. Relaxing back against Eddie’s arm, he catches the small quirk of a smile playing at Eddie’s mouth and complains about something in the movie. Chris interjects, Buck only tangentially paying attention, because Eddie’s fingers are scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Gross,” Eddie says, wrinkling his nose. Buck can agree; there’s way too much blood for a movie Chris can watch, but he doesn’t answer. He can feel himself relaxing further, embarrassed when he pushes into Eddie’s fingers. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. Except then, on the next pass, he scratches a little lighter. The sensation has Buck shivering and he swallows down the noise in his throat.

Reaching over, he rests a hand on Eddie’s leg and squeezes. Eddie looks at him, picking up on Buck’s silent cues, and nods. He keeps his hand in Buck’s hair, but contends himself with running his fingers through it instead of scratching. Buck breathes out, shaky, but doesn’t tense up again.

“Work tomorrow,” Eddie says, his voice pitched low. Chris is still watching the movie, working his way through a packet of candy Buck’s surprised Eddie let him have.

Buck nods. “Can’t wait. I feel like I’ve put on five pounds in two days.”

“Now who’s dramatic.” Eddie shakes his head. “Not that you’re wrong; Carla’s cooking does have that effect. So good.”

“Anyone’s would be,” Buck says, smirking, “compared to yours.”

Eddie glares, but he huffs, looking back at the TV. “Rude.”

“Not wrong,” Buck says lightly, sing-song, watching Chris out of the corner of his eye. Either Chris is doing a very good job of pointedly ignoring them (something he’s practised at), or they’re managing to keep their tone low. When Eddie doesn’t reply, he pouts. “I’m injured.”

“You were,” Eddie corrects, but he’s smiling. “All the rope rescues for you tomorrow.”

Buck pauses. “You’re not going to fight me for them?”

Looking nonchalant, Eddie shrugs. “Consider it a gift to you.”

You’re my gift.

The words get trapped somewhere in Buck’s throat. He can’t stop staring at Eddie. It almost feels like a relief when the movie finishes, and Eddie starts making noises about sleeping. Again, Buck finds himself being tugged in the direction of Eddie’s bed, even when the couch will suffice, but it feels not unlike the tsunami; Buck drowning, being pulled in different directions, but this time Eddie’s there; a guide, an anchor, when Buck feels most adrift.

_______

Days pass into weeks.

Buck’s in his truck, on the way back to his apartment, and he’s startled by the wrongness of it. He can’t remember the last time he spent the night in his own home. Turning into the parking lot, he sits behind the wheel, knuckles white as he grips it, staring at the window of his apartment.

Not that he wants to hang around Eddie like dead weight. He’d dashed out of the locker room, a yell over his shoulder that he was late to pick up Chris. Not that buck expects them to hang out after work or anything, but ever since—well, since Texas, Eddie’s not been far.

Angry at himself, he grabs his duffel from the back seat and heads into the apartment building, fighting the lead weight settling in his stomach. It’s his fucking home! Just because Eddie doesn’t mind him hanging out with him and Chris, Buck needs to get a grip. He’s not part of their family and he needs to stop. Maybe go out, find someone to—

His phone rings shrilly through his thoughts and he grabs it, answering it with a harsh, “What?”

A pause. “Where are you?”

“At my apartment,” Buck snaps. “You remember? That place I live.”

Eddie’s quiet on the other end of the phone and Buck grips the edge of the counter, closing his eyes, opening his mouth to apologise. Eddie talks first, his tone soft. “I remember.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck blurts out. He presses his hand to his eyes. “I think the shift must have got to me. “

“You sure you’re alright?”

No. Buck nods. “Yeah.”

A hum. Eddie’s voice is still quiet when he says, “alright. See you tomorrow.”

When the dial tone rings in his ear, Buck lets the phone slide out of his hands, hitting the counter and sliding away from him. Buck swallows once, twice, feels the burn of tears in his eyes. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He doesn’t realise he’s slid down to the floor until he feels the cold beneath his butt, his head falling back to rest against the island. Time slides away from him and he breathes slowly, trying to focus on the here and now, even if it’s the last place he wants to be.

“Buck?”

Buck’s breathing sounds too loud.

“Head up, Buck, come on.”

Eddie, Buck’s brain helpfully supplies. He blinks, stares up into Eddie’s face.

“There you are,” Eddie says, voice soft. “You with me?”

“Eddie?” Buck says, his voice scratchy.

Eddie nods, his arms on Buck’s. He tugs gently, helping Buck up off the floor. Buck lets himself be led, unsurprised when Eddie pushes him down onto the couch. There’s a glass of water on the coffee table, a blanket against the arm.

Buck stares, wonders if there’s an echo when he says, “Eddie,” again.

“I’m here,” Eddie says, and Buck’s sure this isn’t real, that he’s gone mad. “Not mad,” Eddie says, “just lonely.”

The word catches in Buck’s ribcage, feels like a knife. “I don’t like being alone.”

Eddie sits next to him on the couch, turning sideways, knee pressed to Buck’s thigh. “I know.”

“I hate it,” Buck continues, staring around the room, at the cold whiteness of everything. He’s tried to make it a home, put stuff up, kept some of the drawings Chris does for him, photos hung on the walls. It doesn’t feel like anything. Not the way Eddie’s does when he walks through the door. The smell, the sounds, the comfort of Chris laughing, of Eddie grousing about something.

Buck’s chest feels tight.

“Buck,” Eddie says, his tone hard. “Look at me.”

Buck does.

“That’s it.” Eddie’s tone shifts back into soft and he reaches over, pulls Buck closer to him. Buck tenses up but Eddie doesn’t let go. He keeps talking, the words washing over Buck like a balm. “You never ask for help. I know I don’t either. We’ve both got—what did you call it, notable trauma?”

It’s funny, but Buck doesn’t laugh. He starts to relax, hand fisting in Eddie’s shirt.

“You’re lonely,” Eddie says, not that Buck needs the reminder. “But you’re not alone.”

Buck clenches his eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath.

“You hear me?” Eddie says again, burying his face in Buck’s hair. They shift around a little until it’s comfortable, Buck pressed against Eddie, the two of them stretched out on Buck’s couch.

“Chris,” Buck says, panicked. If Eddie’s here then who’s got Chris?

“He’s with Hen and Karen.” Eddie’s fingers are on the back of Buck’s neck, grounding him. “He’s safe.”

Okay. Chris is safe. Buck’s not alone.

“Eddie,” he says, hating himself for this weakness but unable to keep from saying, “I don’t wanna be alone.”

Eddie sucks in a breath, lets it out. He sounds wrecked. “I know. You’re not, I promise.”

Buck shakes his head. “I am. When you go home. When everyone—I’m alone. Abby left and Ali and I’m alone.” The word spill out of him, water running over him, drowning him, holding him fast. “My parents left me alone. Maddie. You.” Eddie’s breath hitches. “Why doesn’t anyone stay?”

Arms tightening, Eddie drags him up, mouth pressed to his forehead, breath hot against Buck’s face. “Not anymore, you understand me?”

Buck wants to believe it. Eddie’s been here, all this time, taking care of Buck. Dr. Copeland says he can accept it for what it is; Eddie caring. Buck wants to, but he doesn’t know how.

“It’s okay,” Eddie says, watching him carefully.

“What is?”

“That you don’t believe me.” Eddie says it so matter of fact and though Buck wants to deny it, he can’t make himself say it. Eddie’s thumb rubs over his cheek. Is Buck crying again? “I’ll show you.”

Buck doesn’t know what that means. “How?”

“If you don’t wanna be alone,” Eddie starts, cuts himself off. There’s pink on his cheeks, determination in his expression. “My bed is cold without you.”

“Mine is too big,” Buck blurts out.

“Alright,” Eddie says, even though Buck doesn’t know what he’s agreeing to. He curls into Eddie, emotionally wrung out, not sure where they go from here. Have they solved anything? Buck’s still going to be in this cold apartment and Eddie might want him around sometimes, but all the time? Buck doesn’t know if Eddie likes him enough to—

Fingers scratch against his scalp.

Buck lets out a soft noise.

“I wasn’t sure,” Eddie says, words drifting softly into Buck’s ear where Eddie’s lips are pressed. “But you asked me to stop.”

“I didn’t know,” Buck says, shaky, groaning when Eddie’s nails scrape down the nape of his neck. He gets a hand between Eddie’s back and the couch, curls his fingers into the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. A henley. Yellow. Fuck, he looks so good.

Eddie whispers, “I know,” and adjusts his hips, slides further back and oh. Buck rocks his hips up, a little out of it because this is Eddie, and they’re on his couch, and he’s, he’s chasing— “That’s it.”

There’s a counterpoint; Eddie’s fingers in his hair, against his scalp, and his hips, the thick curve of his dick pressed to Buck’s.

“Eddie,” he manages to get out.

“You can have it,” Eddie grits out, dropping his free hand to Buck’s ass and dragging him up. Buck punches out a groan, body quivering as he his orgasm starts to build, pleasure pulsing at the base of his spine. Eddie’s breathing in his ear, there’s the rustle of fabric, and Buck can smell the fading scent of Eddie’s cologne.

“Please,” Buck bites out.

“Take it,” Eddie says, biting at the curve of Buck’s jaw. “You can have whatever want.”

Buck sobs out Eddie’s name as he grinds his hips down, lost in the sensations of Eddie’s hands, his voice, the pleasure cresting up and over, drowning out everything but Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

_______

“You with me?”

Buck hums, craking open an eye. They’re still on the couch, his pants feel gross, but Eddie’s stroking a hand down his back so Buck can deal.

“Buck?”

“Yeah,” Buck says.

Eddie shifts a little, extricating himself enough to grab the water bottle. Buck makes a disgruntled noise, but can’t deny he’s thirsty. When Eddie’s satisfied he’s drunk enough, they settle back, Eddie’s hand drfiting through his hair. “Move in with me.”

Buck’s body tenses. “Eddie—”

“I’m asking,” Eddie says, and when Buck pulls back, he can see the apprehension on Eddie’s face. “Not telling. And no,” he adds, “it’s not pity.”

“I can get over it.”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He gestures for Buck to lie back down and after a momentary hesitation, Buck does, sinking against the lines of Eddie’s body. He’s lulled into comfort by the press of Eddie’s hands against his back and neck, the steady rhythm of Eddie’s chest rising and falling.

“Part of me thinks I’ll never be over Shannon,” Eddie says. Buck hardly dares breathe. “I’ve always thought I wasn’t good enough,” Eddie continues, burying his face in Buck’s hair. “And yet every time I look up, there you are. Still here.”

The words take a moment to resonate; Buck’s broken and splintered, but Eddie is too. Maybe their damaged parts match up, maybe they don’t. Somehow, they fit together anyway, and Eddie’s been here. He’s still here, Chris safe with friends because Buck needs him.

“I’ve never been a priority,” Buck rasps out.

“Yes you have,” Eddie says with a certainty that makes Buck wants to hold on and never let go. “You and Chris? You have to know you’re everything.”

Buck tightens his grip on Eddie. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Eddie huffs a breath. “I know. Neither do I, sometimes, but I’m not letting you go, Buck.”

“Promise?”

Gentle pressure on Buck’s chin tilts his head up and he stares into Eddie’s eyes and Buck’s breath catches in his throat at the expression on Eddie’s face. “You have every part of me that doesn’t belong to Chris.”

When Eddie kisses him, Buck lets himself fall.

#buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #otp: i forgive you #fic by me

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adamarks · 3 years

Text

I’ve slept so little in the past 2 days bc of these fucking books, so you’ll forgive me that I’m crying and a bit hysterical right now. But here’s my hell-forsaken, honest-to-god review. I put it under a cut bc it’s so long.

After finishing Anyway the Wind Blows, I have realized that I’ve been running on such low low levels of hope in my own life.

During Wayward Son, when I first read it, I had really thought I’d been in a good place with my mental health at the time. I’d done some therapy. I’d escaped my dad. I’d slain the dragon! I’d won the war!! Surely, everything was peachy-keen, fine-as-rain, bye-bye silly depression I don’t need you no more!

But then Covid hit. And then my codependency hit. And codependency, it’s like a humdrum of its own, a black hole on the inside, a pit in myself, losing myself in someone else as its own addiction. It just ate me and ate me and I couldn’t eat and I couldn’t sleep and I was the least important thing on the face of the earth. I’d get angry. Then hate myself for getting angry. Shove my feelings in a stupid box, and that would feed that hole in my gut. You’re not important. No one will ever love you. You’re bad. You’re wrong. You hate them. You hate yourself—

And then I had to leave. I had to run away, like a coward, for myself. I had to choose myself in the worst way. I had to choose myself, because I had to live, and I wanted to live, and I needed that crawling, disgusting, horrible rot in my stomach to leave.

The hole isn’t gone, not yet.

It’s still there. I think I’ll always carry it with me. But it’s smaller now. I can hold it and care for it and calm it down in the ways I’ve learned. It’s manageable, I guess.

But then I read Anyway the Wind Blows...

I read Carry On after I started standing up to my dad.

I read Wayward Son about a year after the worst depressive episode of my life.

I read Anyway the Wind Blows when I’d lost hope for myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d never lost hope for this book. I knew it’d be amazing. I knew they’d love each other in such beautiful, stunning ways that I’d bawl like a baby. I knew this book would change me. I knew Rainbow was a fantastic author.

I didn’t know how desolate I was feeling about myself.

I didn’t know love could look like that.

I don’t know love. I never got to see it.

Not that I’d never been loved. That I didn’t have people my whole life that cared. I have a lot of people that mistake love for possession. Who want and wanted to own me. Who wanted me under their thumb.

I have friends, just as broken as me, if not more, where we love each other unconditionally. Where the love is so big and so good, it’s like breathing. It’s like life.

I didn’t know romantic love could scrub you clean.

I read their first sex scene. The first time. (Their first!) Last night, and I cried like a baby. I cried until I felt raw. Until I felt just as clean as them.

I didn’t know love with kisses and tangled sheets and sex could feel clean.

I’d been so preoccupied with the stupid hole inside my chest, the black, twisted thing that grew mold up my spine and fungus in my gut, that I didn’t realize that love— that complete vulnerability, on both ends, in its entirety— could help me clean out the muck.

I thought it would always be horrible and dark and difficult until the day you both died. I’d say I believe in love. In true love, even. But I didn’t really, not deep down. I always expected the worst.

I’m still just waiting and anticipating to be hurt.

I thought love was real, but for people besides myself. For others. Maybe people less fucked up, or something. (Or something or something or something)

I thought love was trying until the trying was hurting you, scorching you, making you hungry, making your stomach roll. Making you want to off yourself.

Love is trying, and every day it getting so slightly easier— or not easier, but slightly less frightening, to try. (It’s never easy. Life never is. It’s hard work. But it’s the fact that you understand. That you know. That you believe— that it’s worth it. That remembering that it’s worth it gets easier the more you try.)

Remembering that love is worth it.

You’re worth it.

I didn’t know love could look like this.

No one ever told me.

No one ever tried.

Maybe I could’ve lived my whole life not knowing. Died not knowing. Forced myself through more suffering, completely blind.

I just didn’t know.

And I didn’t know I’d been waiting for someone to show me.

To hold me and tell me, you’re not too broken. You can do that “love” thing. It’s possible. You’re allowed to try.

I’m allowed to try.

I’m allowed to keep going. To want. To need, to feel, to feel—

I’m allowed. I feel like this book gave me permission.

And I’m a different person than I was yesterday— And you always are, every time you’re brave enough to get up and face the day. But now I’ll always be a person that knows I’m allowed to try.

I don’t have to rot from the inside. I can hold someone and say, let’s try to help each other clean. And we can talk. And we can both try. And maybe it’ll be so good, I won’t want to stop trying, and I won’t run away.

Because I’ve finally been told— I’ve finally been shown…

It’s worth it.

#awtwb spoilers #awtwb #rainbow rowell #carry on #wayward son #awtwb review #simon snow #snowbaz #Baz Pitch #mental health tw #mild barely there suicide tw

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

Note

Another first sentence + 5 sentence fic, "I hate it when you're being a martyr!!?"

Lol, next time just send me a sentence. I don't think I'll ever be doing "only" +5 sentences xD

Okay, okay, so this isn't from my *THE* time-travel fic, but the thing is... I just love the idea of a bamf!sterek that go back in time and don't tell anyone about the truth and then comes this CONFRONTATION and everyone else is confused/in awe.

Quick rundown of dynamics, just because: Alpha Talia Hale. Human/Alpha Mate Nathaniel Hale. Betas Peter Hale, Laura Hale, Cora Hale, Claudia Stilinski. Human Noah John Stilinski. Alpha Derek Hale (but he presents as a beta to everyone except Stiles). Human Stiles Stilinski (but he is actually a spark, the strongest there is).

Idk their ages, but you can imagine Stiles as a 15/16 year old teen (he's mentally older, of course, think like... hmm... let's say he came back in time at age 21. So he should be 30, mentally). That makes Derek 21/22 (mentally 36).

Okay, enough rambling, now let's get down to the fic!! I'll be writing this from Laura's POV. Also, tell me if I should post this one on AO3? Now it's on AO3!

The Moon's Come Out

"I hate it when you're being a martyr."

Stiles' voice is a soft whisper underneath the chaos of blood and death, but it's not quite enough to drown under. It's a resigned exhale of breath, a truth so absolute that it's no longer just a truth. It's a fact.

Laura Hale wonders when her baby brother aligned himself to such a fact. She wonders lots of things about her baby brother.

She remembers the day when it all changed. When Derek changed. It was subtle, but it was prominent.

She remembers when she'd helped Derek with his flirting skills. Paige, she remembers; the same Paige who had once held Derek's eyes had been rendered into nothing that day. No, not nothing—something else. Something deeper. Something like grief.

But why would Derek grieve someone living? It's a mystery, but more than that it's an act shared between Derek and Stiles—like they're barely tethered to the world, and every moment with anyone but each other is like a gift and a curse, all in one.

But this isn't the time to think about it, how it feels like she's lost Derek once.

It's time to save him.

"Mom," her voice is a barely there sound, but her mom, her Alpha, she's here.

And she's silently crying.

"Mom, we need to- need to help him,"

Her mom is nodding her head, and they're moving between the bloody bodies—hunters, who'd come to kill them, only to die by Stiles'... everything.

Laura feels she can save him.

"Stop." Stiles' voice is still a whisper, but it's an order. A command.

Her mom—Alpha Talia Hale—stops in her tracks, and Laura, with her injured leg has to stop with her.

Dad is shouting at Cora to stay back, and John is trying to free Claudia and Peter from their confines, and Laura can hear all that. But right now, her world boils to where Derek is. On the ground, only a few feet away but so, so far away, spitting blood out of his mouth as his healing tries to kick in where the bullets are lodged on his body.

Bullets. Because Derek had jumped in front of the hunters when they started shooting at Peter and Claudia. And they're all wolfsbane laced.

Laura opens her mouth to protest, to shout, but Stiles doesn't let her.

He's always stopped her from talking.

She hates Stiles.

He's taken Derek away from her. From the pack.

"I can deal with this, you don't have to worry,"

"You can't order me around." Laura's eyes flash at her Alpha's tone, and she bares her neck.

Stiles' jaw sets with a determined look. "Oh, yeah? You really think so, Talia?" Laura watches him as he speaks, words fast paced and laced with worry and fear and anger. It's an ensemble of emotions, but even Laura has to admit that there's always been something special about this kid. His hands work as he talks.

"I mean, maybe you do. You Hales always think you know the best, don't you? It's like you think nobody else has any brains but you. Well, except Peter. That fucker is just too clever for his own good and he knows it. But he at least knows not to underestimate others. That's more than I can say for you, Talia. Or Laura. You two are so similar, you know?"

Laura does. She does know. And she is proud of that fact. But Stiles says it like a curse, like being so similar to her own mother—her Alpha—is nothing short of the worst thing.

Laura wonders why. She wonders a lot when it comes to Stiles.

"Stiles," everyone stops at that voice, as if freezing in place would freeze time itself.

Laura has been tortured, she's seen more blood than she needs to today, and she'd cried herself hoarse when they'd started to torture her previously unconscious mom. And then she'd wanted to die when the hunters turned their guns toward Cora, Claudia and Peter. So much so that she'd barely noticed Derek somehow escaping from his own personal confinement, the shackles he was in, all of it covered in wolfsbane. Neither had she witnessed Stiles breaking the literal cage the humans of their pack had been put in. But the thing that truly, truly scares her isn't any of those things. No.

It's losing Derek. Her baby brother (he used to hate it when she called him that, but when he changed, that hate turned into a grieving sort of fondness, like this was something he'd missed), who feels more like an adult than she is, her Derek. She can't lose him. She just can't.

It would break her. It would break the pack. Derek has always been the heart of it, the sweet little kid who is adored by his sisters and trusted by his parents; the man who even Peter respects, and Claudia cherishes like her own son, and John who calls him a good man.

It's no surprise they all just stop when Derek speaks for the first time since he was shot. And oh, was it only minutes ago? It feels like hours.

"Finally coherent, huh?" Stiles asks Derek, like Derek speaking right now is no big deal. Like it's that easy to try and repel the poison of wolfsbane.

"Shut up," Derek coughs out, voice throaty and weak.

"Derek," someone calls out. It's choked with tears, and it's a female, and it's her voice. "Derek! Please don't die,"

Derek tries to move his head, but falls back on the ground with a thump. Stiles swats at him, and Laura only now notices that Stiles' hands are covered in blood, one anchored on Derek's chest while the other digs around one of the holes. There's a host of bullets lying on the other side; Stiles throws another bullet there.

Perhaps everyone notices the same thing just then, because everyone makes a noise, a wail of pain and disgust and fear, all of it mixed in one sound.

Her mom has lost all her fight in herself, and Laura deflates, too. Stiles seems to know what he's doing.

And he doesn't seem to care what he sounds like.

"No, shut up? Me? Shut up? I swear to the fucking moon, you asshole, if you die on me I'll follow you. I'll fucking follow you there, because nothing is left for me here, okay, and I know you know that. You know this. How could you even do this to me? I told you to wait for my signal! I never would have let them get hurt, Derek! No, no, shut up! You keep your words to yourself and you listen, you goddamn martyr, you listen.

You made me a promise. When we came back, you promised me we'd be together. Always. We'll fix things, then we'll live, and then we'll die. Together. But you-you broke that promise, Der. You did tha-that,"

Laura is missing something. They all are.

Stiles' voice is a steady stream, a flow broken only by the cracks in his voice and the anger in it. And then it's a whisper, the height of his voice toppled down by his sorrow.

Derek smiles softly, as if Stiles worrying himself to death about him is not a new thing. Like Derek almost dies on a constant basis, and this is a routine they have—Stiles worries, Stiles shouts, and then Derek smiles because he's still here. He isn't gone yet.

Laura watches as Derek puts his weight on his elbows, brings his face close to Stiles'. Nobody interrupts them, still frozen in time, still processing what they just went through. Stiles shuts his eyes.

"I am here. I am here, Stiles," Derek tells Stiles, and Stiles takes a shaky breath, and it hangs there, that breath—the worry, the anger, the pain, everything—between them, before Derek lunges forward and presses his lips against Stiles'.

There are a few sharp breaths, and a hysterical giggle from Claudia. "I told you," she says, and Laura thinks she's saying it to John.

Laura isn't exactly surprised. She's caught them kissing multiple times, and she's always wanted to tattle on them. And she would have, because this is wrong—Stiles is a teenager and Derek is an adult—but Stiles is clever and somehow always a few steps ahead of her. He knows all of her secrets, and she'd rather he didn't but that's not the life she has. No, the life she has is—

—clearer in hindsight. She thinks back on those kisses, shared in the early mornings or late nights, between whispered words that Laura couldn't make out and with a desperation that went beyond the desperation of wanting a good time.

And she looks now, looks at the way Stiles' breaths are shaky and labored, but his hands are steady, even as he brings flames appear out of nowhere and presses it against Derek's bullet wounds. She looks at the way Derek has his forehead pressed against Stiles', and how he moves his head to Stiles' neck at the precise moments that the fire touches his skin. Like he's done this before, knows how to keep his pain between him and Stiles. She looks at the way Stiles' other hand, still bloody, tangles in Derek's hair, comforts him, like he's the only comfort Derek needs in this world.

She looks at the way Derek's body heals, like even his body is used to being hurt like this.

"It all makes sense," Peter's voice brings her out of her thoughts, and she turns to look at him. He's vibrating with excitement. "The way they talk—the way they behave—it all makes sense!"

Laura doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to know how this much blood and death and crying and confusion could ever make sense.

But if knowing is the answer to ease the burden on Stiles' and Derek's shoulders, she'll take it. She will know.

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #laura hale #the hale pack #teen wolf #my fic #thanks for the prompt!

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Kitchen Romance

➜ Words: 11.1k

➜ Genres: 95% Fluff, 5% Angst, Chef!AU

➜ Summary: You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors' ancestors were matchmakers and it's all because of a special, inborn gift. A gift that allows you to see each person's fated ones above their heads. But it's not so much a gift when one day, your boss walks in with YOU above him.

cr.

The kitchen is in chaos.

The heat swelters in the still air, stifling with the summer warmth that’s forced most people indoors with air conditioning. But here, there’s no such privilege. Not when open fires on frying pans were at every stovetop and grease was splattering everyone like a water fountain show. You feel yourself being roasted alive, a layer of oil sitting on top of your skin, and there’s barely a moment to wipe away the sweat rolling from your hairline. Your hands are wrinkled as you scrub down the nth dish from the pile that’s stacked above your head, but before you can finish, Taehyung’s desperately calling out for you. You shout back at him that you’re coming and then you’re helping him peel the potatoes. There’s no room to complain. Especially not when— “What is this?!” For a moment, time itself stops. The pandemonium halts, fire flickering, knives held mid-air. Everyone’s head has swiveled over to the dark-haired man standing at the end of the island. Kim Seokjin holds up a plate of baked salmon with methi prawns. His plump lips are pulled downwards. That’s never a good sign. “The presentation is sloppy!” he yells and you flinch from the sheer volume of his booming voice. “Are you people blind?! We can’t serve this! It’s an embarrassment! Do it again!” “Yes, chef!” Everyone apologizes, including you, and Seokjin huffs, moving out of the kitchen. Namjoon, sous-chef, shakes his head. “Focus! Dinner service hasn't even begun yet!” Luckily, everyone’s on edge and meticulous enough with Seokjin walking around and scrutinizing every action that the rest of the night goes off without another hitch. By the end, you’re finishing up on cleaning and washing the dishes. “Good night, Y/N.” Jihyo waves, bag strap slung on her shoulder. “See you.” You muster a smile while you keep scrubbing. “Bye.” “Night,” Yoongi says while Taehyung fixes you a grin. You watch them leave and then focus on completing the rest of your tasks. It’s not long before you’re switching all the lights off and changing from your uniform. The walk back to your apartment proves to be excruciating. You’re beyond exhausted, lugging your legs along to carry the rest of your body while forcing your eyes to remain open, so you can at least see where you’re going. When the door opens, you immediately jump into the shower to wash off the grime, nearly falling asleep in the process. By the time you flop onto your bed, your hair is still dripping wet, but as your muscles ease into the mattress, you’re knocked out into a deep slumber. Rest is merely a blink of time. The alarm on your phone is blaring before you can dream or feel even remotely refreshed. It’s deafening to your ears and you reach over to shut it off. Finding the sun already up in the sky, you force yourself to sit up, get ready, grab breakfast and eat on your way to work. “If it’s too hard, you should come home,” the voice on the other side of the line coaxes. “Your dad and I are so worried about you sometimes.” “I’m fine, mom.” You’re chewing in your cheek, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder as you parade down the block. “Trust me.” “Have you at least been eating well?” You glance at the granola bar in hand. “Yeah. Sort of.” “The city is scary. There’s no shame in coming home, dear. Your grandma misses you a lot. She always asks about you.” “I’m fine, mom,” you reassure her for the second time. “I really am. And tell grandma—” Accidentally, your shoulder collides with a businessman’s. Apologies spring from you, but rather than looking at the stranger like you should be, your eyes unintentionally wander above his head. To the cloud of fog. And a woman’s smiling face you see emerge from it. The man’s brows lift at how you’re staring into space and he moves out of the way. You’re forced out of your trance and you continue to apologize until he’s completely gone from sight. You damn yourself for not being more careful. You come from a long line of matchmakers. Your ancestors’ ancestors were matchmakers. Your mother once told you that back in the day, some peasants in your family couldn’t sew, sell or do any labour, so they begged heavens and out of pity, they were granted a small gift. A gift that’s been passed down to every generation since. While you’re not sure if the story is true or not, what’s certain is that from the moment you were born, you could see a cloud of fog above everyone’s head. It’s like speech bubbles or thought bubbles in comic strips. But instead of words, the fog comes with another person’s face. It’s the one who they’re meant to be with. Ironically enough, you’ve never seen one above your own head. Though you’ve come to accept that. Romance will never be a major aspect of your life, so you’ve switched gears into focusing on your career and finding fulfillment elsewhere. You also knew early on that you didn’t want to be a matchmaker like the rest of your family. You want to be a— “Good morning, chef.” “Good morning.” Namjoon nods with a smile. “Things weren’t too bad yesterday, but let’s try to be less sloppy for dinner service tonight. Hoseok, what time is the shipment of seafood coming in?” Namjoon continues going through the daily routine, updating each person on the schedule and the shipments. But it’s not long during the morning meeting in the kitchen that the back door creaking can be heard. Instantly, everything comes to a halt. Everyone turns themselves and greets the head chef simultaneously. Seokjin rounds the corner. “We have a lot to do today, people. Tonight’s special is going to be watermelon with smoked salmon mousse—” You gasp. Automatically, your hands lift to cover your mouth, yet too late to muffle the loud noise. Your eyes are as large as saucers. Your heart stutters in your chest, nearly giving out. Instead of the polished brunette woman above Seokjin’s head that was always there, you see someone else. Someone very familiar that you’ve seen in the mirror a thousand times. You. You’re frozen — palms clammy, knees weak. And everyone’s turned around to stare, even Kim Seokjin himself. His brow is cocked and he eyes you intensely for daring to interrupt him. “Are you okay?” Jihyo whispers, leaning in and nudging you with her elbow. You start to breathe again, frantically. Yet no matter how much you gasp for air, you can’t feel the oxygen entering your lungs. But you force yourself to bow your head anyway, retaining an exterior that’s not oozing of sheer panic. “S-S-Sor..ry. I…. have something in my throat.” You clear it and Seokjin sighs, continuing with what he was saying. The first task is to wash the salad and it’s easy enough, but your eyes continue to wander up to the dark-haired, doe-eyed man from across the kitchen. Black shirt with a white apron around his waist, he emanates intimidation from his god-like looks alone and constant frown. Your eyes connect and you instantaneously whip yourself around. You start to sweat when Seokjin beelines to you. “Do you have an issue with me?” You shake your head furiously. “Then focus!” the man spits. “You’re drowning the salad!” You wince as he slams the faucet down. This can’t be. This can’t be it. It doesn’t make sense whatsoever. On your break, you’re crouched over by the bathrooms and much to your dismay, your mom is hysterically laughing at you. “Just because you never saw your match, doesn’t mean you’re alone, Y/N! Poor soul, where did you ever get that idea from? No one can see their own. I didn’t and neither did your aunt or grandma.” “Why didn’t you tell me that?” The syllables hiss out of you and you spare a glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s coming. You’ve come to accept that you would never be romantically involved with anyone. To find out that Seokjin, your boss, is your match out of everyone, it’s taking you for a hysteric spin. “I thought you already knew!” she exclaims on the other line. “Plus, nothing comes from knowing your own. But who is it? Are you going to bring them home? I would love to know what sort of person is going to end up with my dear daughter. Oh, your grandma will be so excited to hear the news!” “Now’s not the time, mom,” you grieve, palm pressed to your forehead. There’s an overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m never going to end up with him.” “You can’t change fate, Y/N.” “Fate changes all the time.” “Are you okay?” There’s a lower voice behind you and you flinch, turning around to see Hoseok’s alarmed expression. You stand up, apologizing internally as you hang up on your mom. “Sorry. It...was a family emergency. But everything’s fine.” “Okay. Well, Namjoon wants you to grab some more flour from the storage room.” “I’ll be right on it.” You swiftly return back to work before you risk losing your job any more than you have today. But all the while, you damn yourself. This is the worst thing that could’ve happened. You ending up with Kim Seokjin, the scary boss that notoriously fires people in your position, is the last thing you wanted to occur. It’s like you’re living in a nightmare where you’re the only one who’s aware of your own dire circumstances and inevitable doom. // “Would it be that bad if he fell in love with you?” Hyoyeon eyes you lazily from across the table as she stirs her drink with her straw. She’s one of your oldest friends who happen to live in the city and one of the few who knows about your gift. “Yes. It would be that bad!” You’re exasperated. You thought she would be up and arms about it like you are. “How could I ever look at my boss like that?!” “You never know,” Hyoyeon sing-songs much to your chagrin. “Don’t give me that. How would you like it if your boss fell in love with you?” “My boss is a Karen going into her sixties.” “Exactly.” Her lips pop off her straw, wearing a visage of distaste. “This and that aren’t the same, Y/N. I didn’t think Soobin would be with me and when you told me, I was mad. But look at us now! He’s not half bad.” “You’re married.” “Precisely.” She laughs, practically glowing from happiness. “And you know, Seokjin isn’t bad either. He’s like what? Only a few years older than you. Ambitious. Wealthy. Handsome. He did that one photoshoot for that magazine and he was so goddamn handsome. Like holy fuck, I almost got pregnant from just—” “Alright. I get it.” “—and he’s like one of the top chefs of the country. Imagine having that kind of food for the rest of your life.” “That’s not going to happen,” you mumble. If it changed once, it can change again. The more you think about it, the more assured you become. You’ll do everything in your power to change it. // The kitchen has fallen into a lull. Jihyo, the pantry chef, works on tossing salads while the butcher chef, Yoongi, is filleting fresh tuna. Sauté chef Hoseok is preparing his piccata sauce while you help Taehyung, the entremetier, with ingredients for the soup. Everyone has their designated roles here, most of which are fancier than yours. As a kitchen assistant, if you aren’t helping Taehyung then you’re washing dishes. But everyone needed to start from somewhere, so you aren’t going to complain. Working for Kim Seokjin is a privilege, albeit, he’s fearsome and hard to please. You clear your throat. “Has...anyone seen that woman lately?” Taehyung turns his head. “Who?” “That woman came to the restaurant a few times and was with Chef Kim....” A petite and dainty physique. Long, dark hair. Her eyes glimmered in the light and her pinked lips pulled softly when she greeted you all. She was poised, oozed of grace, sophistication, money. And she was the one who you saw above Seokjin’s head since you met him. Hell, you saw him above her head, and while you were surprised that in spite of his scariness, he actually had someone, they strangely suited each other well. They were supposed to be together. Until recently. You wonder what happened. What the change was. Why you’re suddenly his match now. Jihyo turns around, ears perked from the conversation. “Right! I haven’t seen her around lately either! I wondered if something happened.” “You mean Kim Jisoo?” Yoongi lolls his head to the side and when Taehyung gives a curious expression as to how he knows, he says, “Hoseok and I were sent to her flower shop to pick up an order once.” “Were they even dating?” Taehyung asks, looking up from where he’s chopping cucumbers. “They were,” Namjoon pipes up and you look towards him, having expected him to shut down the conversation around the head chef, but he merely smiles. “But I haven’t seen her recently either.” Jihyo hums. “I wonder if something happened.” “Maybe they broke up,” Yoongi offers absentmindedly. “Well, that wouldn’t be surprising.” Taehyung pauses and looks over to you, lifting a brow as if trying to find an ally. “He seems like he can be pretty hard to get along with.” But the opinion isn’t unpopular and there are several snickers throughout the kitchen. “Seokjin’s just serious about his work,” Hoseok says with a smile. “But they were pretty serious.” “Really?” You turn to Namjoon directly. It’s not often that you’d be so straightforward, but you want answers. You want explanations. “Did he ever say anything to you? On what could’ve happened?” He shakes his head and then there’s a loud boom of the backdoor. Your blood runs cold. Everyone’s eyes widen, but there’s no time to react or to take back what he could’ve heard. Seokjin walks in with his eyes narrowed in on you specifically. “If all of you have enough time to talk about my personal life, then you can work twice as hard and twice as fast tonight.” Everyone holds in their sighs. With your downcast head, your eyes search the floor. “I’m sorry, chef.” But the apology falls onto deaf ears. // It’s a busy shift. With your tail caught in between your legs, it’s either a cutting board in front of you with a knife in hand or plates and a rough sponge by the sink. Oil from the fryer nearby splashes onto you, the grease coating bowls staining your apron, the heat sticking your tied back hair to your scalp. Yet you wish you could do more. Not just chop bell peppers, finely mince garlic or prepare starches. Not just rinsing bowls to stack into the dishwasher and wash large pots and plates by hand. While you’ve become accustomed to knives, keeping a rapid and constant beat as you slice whatever is in front of you, you wish you could cook. Not just be an accessory to the kitchen. Or an extra member to assist the chefs. But for now, you count your blessings. Humming to yourself late at night while you finish. “What are you still doing here?” The crystal clear voice has you flinching, startled to death and you turn around to see Kim Seokjin in the flesh. White shirt rolled to his elbows, black trousers, expensive Rolex on his wrist that could pay the rest of your student loans with. You gawk at him. Speechless. Scared. He doesn’t wait for you to find your tongue, dismissing your silence. “Where are the others? They should be cleaning up too. Just because dinner service is over, doesn’t mean they can leave.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance, no longer speaking to you but himself. “I won’t have anyone slacking in my kitchen.” “I-It’s fine, chef.” Your voice is barely a squeak, but you muster the courage, not wanting them to get yelled at tomorrow. You turn around, quickening up your scrubbing until your nails start to hurt. “I’m supposed to be washing the dishes anyway.” “It shouldn’t be taking you this long.” You wonder if he’s scolding you. It goes silent. “Finish up and go change,” Seokjin says shortly and you nod. It takes another ten minutes for the task to be completed and then you’re wiping down the counters before heading to the lockers to change out of your apron and uniform. Usually, you’d come out, turn off all the lights and begin the final trek home. But today, your blood runs cold. Your mouth fills with cotton when you step out. Against your own assumption, the head chef has not in fact left. Instead, Seokjin is leaning against the counter with his coat on, furiously tapping on his phone with his thick brows furrowed like they usually are. You swallow hard and bow your head as you pass him. “Good night, chef.” “Wait.” Immediately, you halt. He pockets his device. “Are you walking?” The absence of an answer is enough of an indication for him. “I’ll drive you. It’s dangerous to walk home at this time of night.” It isn’t a suggestion. It isn’t an offer either. It’s a command. And soon, you discover yourself in his expensive Mercedes. The vehicle is black, sleek and you’re afraid of touching the leather seats more than you have to in case you stain it with poverty and have him sue you for damages. Or fire you. “Turn left,” his fancy navigation system deadpans and it startles you. Yet Seokjin is undeterred and with one hand on the wheel, he turns at the light, allowing the car to roll smoothly over the pavement. The passing lamp posts’ glow also illuminate his features, his plump lips and the slope of his nose. If Hyoyeon was here she would be salivating at the sight, how his chin is lifted, head slightly cocked. You would be too, if you weren’t so afraid. Kim Seokjin exudes confidence and intimidation, rightfully so too. He’s worlds out of your league. And as your eyes stray from his profile to focus on the cloud above his head, your smiling expression still emerges. You don’t understand how someone like you can be with someone like him. “Is there something on my face?” His question leaking with annoyance shakes you out of your trance and you tear your eyes away from him frantically to look out the window. “N-No.” The tense quietness that follows is enough that you want to bang your head against the dashboard and hope you get knocked out to spare you from this awkwardness. Then again, you might just end up with a bruise and his car repair bill which would be even wors— “You won’t be seeing Jisoo anymore,” Seokjin suddenly says and your head swivels to him. “She decided to cheat on me and that was a deal breaker, so I broke it off.” “Oh.” “I didn’t know you were one for gossip, but go ahead and tell the others if you’d like.” “I..I’m sorry.” Your downcast head faces your lap and you swallow hard. “It’s personal and I shouldn’t have intruded or asked. It was wrong and unprofessional of me for bringing it up.” “No.” There’s a moment of silence as he looks straight ahead. “It was wrong of me to act the way I did.” You blink wide-eyed and Seokjin parks at the curb. “My reaction was a bit uncalled for — it’s something I’m still working on.” You stare at him and finally, the man meets your gaze. “You can get out now.” “O-Oh.” You scramble out the car. “T-Thank you.” The moment the door shuts, he drives off. Fate can be changed. It’s rare, but choices influence futures and who someone ends up with can change depending on the actions they take. You just never expected Seokjin’s reason for the change to be so heartbreaking. Even if he stated it factually and his expression never wavered, you could sense it in his voice. The sadness you didn’t know he could possess. // “What made you think I would like him?” Jihyo is exasperated as she wipes down the counter and Taehyung grins as he sweeps the floor. “The guy literally kept on going about rock climbing, bungee jumping and skydiving. Do I look like an adrenaline junkie to you, Kim Taehyung?” “Hey, hey. Yeonjun is nice, okay? I just thought you would be into the rough look.” “Not at all. This is the last time I’m letting you set me up.” Yoongi smirks as he passes by. “I’ll take it that your blind date didn’t go well?” Jihyo glares at him. Hoseok turns around with an amused smile. “It was your fault with trusting Taehyung with this sort of thing. What kind of guy are you into? Maybe I could set you up with someone better.” She sighs wistfully. “I don’t even know anymore. I just want someone reliable and half decent.” In the meanwhile, your eyes flicker up to the cloud above her head. There’s a bright eyed young man there and you smile, unloading the dishwasher as you continue listening to their conversation. “See? It wasn’t my fault!” Taehyung pipes up to defend himself. “How am I supposed to know what kind of person you’d be into if you don’t know yourself?” “Oh, so you know?” “Of course I do!” He scoffs and becomes dreamy as he muses, “I want someone with long hair and dresses fashionably, someone who’s sweet and gentle, like a puppy.” But based on the person above him, they appear rougher around the edges with shorter hair and a frown. But you let Taehyung have it, not commenting a single word. You’ve learnt from experience that it doesn’t work well if you come out of nowhere and try to involve yourself. They continue talking about ideals, even Namjoon that pinches in he’s been seeing someone lately — an old friend who he went to school with that he never thought of romantically until recently. You’re having fun just listening in until the question is directed at you. “Me?” You laugh awkwardly. “I don’t know either. I haven’t really thought about it before.” “Oh, don’t give me that.” Taehyung nudges you. “Everyone has some idea.” But you’ve sincerely never considered it before. You always thought you would live in solitude without another companion and even came to terms with it. But things have changed. “I guess….someone kind and considerate. Thoughtful. I don’t care what they do, except that they have to be a good person.” It might be a generic answer, but as you think about Seokjin, you know you don’t want someone domineering and frightening. Yet from last night, Seokjin didn’t seem so daunting in the car. “Yeah, I can see that.” Jihyo nods. “What about Chef Kim?” you ask, eyes glistening in the light, curious beyond belief. “What do you think his ideal is?” The people around the kitchen hum, speculating over the boss’ preferences. They’re equally intrigued by the question. “Anyone who won’t shit their pants when he’s around,” Taehyung laughs as he finishes sweeping and pours the grime from the dustpan into the trash. As Yoongi wraps a bowl, he mindlessly offers, “He seems to like the serious type,” “What was Jisoo like?” Jihyo asks, tapping her chin with a frown. “Sophisticated,” Hoseok suggests and you look at him, breathing a sigh of relief. Out of all things, you were definitely not sophisticated. “Gentle.” “Sweet,” Namjoon says with confidence, having known the man the most after years of working together, “He likes the hard-working and earnest ones who prove themselves to be more than he expects.” As if summoning the devil himself, Kim Seokjin comes from the back area and walks straight through the kitchen. “Stop slacking,” he states in a monotone and everyone returns to their tasks with a simultaneous ‘yes, chef’. But as he passes by you, he pauses for a moment. “Everyone needs to leave on time today. If there’s anything that isn’t clean, you need to work together so that it is.” “Yes, chef,” sounds throughout the kitchen once more. You know being passive won’t solve anything. You need to actively do something that will repulse him, make it so he’ll vow never to get involved with you. If he makes the decision, fate itself will change and you won’t have to end up together. The only plausible strategy to repulse you have at the moment is to embody the reverse of what Seokjin’s ideals are. The opposite of what appeals to him — sophisticated, sweet and gentle. // It takes you a while to pinpoint what the exact opposite is. But you find it. Loud. Obnoxious. Aggressive. You need to be these things in a way that doesn’t get you fired, but just enough that it alters who his match is. Part of you isn't sure you have it in you to be this way, but it’s worth a shot. You’ll do anything to change fate. “What the hell are you still doing in my kitchen?” Seokjin is standing meters away, half shrouded in the darkness. Your eyes flicker up at him but you resume dicing the carrots into one inch lengths. Only half the blade is lifted off the wooden cutting board and it descends at a rapid rhythm, rather therapeutic to listen to. There’s an urge to cower down, but you channel your aggression, pretending it’s Taehyung and not Kim Seokjin — head chef with two Michelin stars — enough money to assassinate you and cover up the crime. “Everyone went out to have dinner together, but I came back to get a head start on prepping ingredients for tomorrow. I need the practice anyway. Why? Is it a problem?” The man’s brow is lifted at your upfront behaviour. “Get out. I’ll drive you back.” “I’m going to finish this first,” you retort without a breath to waste. Seokjin scoffs and puts down the keys he just grabbed. He sighs exhaustingly and you feel his stare burning into you. It’s hard to ignore it. You even start sweating until he moves towards the fridge, and that’s when you finally steal the chance to peek at him. “Are you going to eat? I can make you something.” “It’s fine.” He grabs two eggs, some shredded cabbage, a handful of spinach and a stick of butter. You don’t question it, solely focusing on your task until there’s sizzling on the pan and he leaves the stove to look over you. “Your technique is poor.” “What?!” Your voice is loud unintentionally, but you’re wholly shocked. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your knife skills. You’ve spent countless time on refining it and getting it to meet standards. “You could go faster,” he deadpans. “Your grip is too tense and you’re holding the knife too high up. You want to hold it at that balance point, so you have the most control over it and the weight is properly distributed.” Seokjin smoothly grabs a knife off the rack and holds it in front of you. You copy him. “It's easier to push the blade through when you're holding it there.” “Like this?” You begin chopping again and he hums. Against your will, a smile finds your features. It’s the first time he praised you— well...it’s less of a praise and more of a half-hearted noise of approval, but it still counts. Seokjin takes the pan from the heat and switches it off. He grabs a fork from the drawer to start eating and you look over, finishing the job. It doesn’t take long for him to notice your blatant ogling. “Do you have an issue?” You smile at him, stepping forward. “Can I have a bite?” Seokjin scoffs. But you lean over and he steps aside, allowing you to nab a fork from the drawer to take some. It’s not like you’re particularly hungry, but you’re curious as to what he’s made. It’s been a long time since you’ve had food from the head chef himself and asking him for his dinner might just be off-putting enough that he’ll hate you forever. It wouldn’t be impossible considering he’s so picky. You swear, one mistake is all it takes for him to hold a grudge till the day he dies. Yet, what you don’t expect is for the scrambled eggs to melt on your tongue. He’s sautéd the spinach, left the cabbage undercooked to add a crunch, and the eggs are fluffy in your mouth, a vivid gold that adds to the haphazard presentation. “This...this is delicious!” He chews in his cheek. “It’s something I eat when there’s nothing in the fridge.” You’re amazed. The fact that Kim Seokjin can’t recognize his own ingenuity is painful. “You should add this to the menu.” He scoffs. “You think I would add scrambled eggs next to the caviar and truffle? I think you forgot this is a fine dining restaurant.” “It’s fine,” you mumble. “I mean if it tastes good, it tastes good, right, chef?” A tiny smile fixes at his visage, tugging his plump lip upwards. “You sure have a lot more opinions tonight.” “Well, I’ve decided to speak my thoughts more,” you hum, scooping up another spoonful of his meal. Your eyes flicker up as you chew with your mouth wide open. “Why? Is it unattractive?” “It’s interesting,” he says with a smile that’s more visible until he barks, “Hurry up eating so I can drive you home.” You scoff at him as he walks away and you finish his dinner off. // Everyone’s on edge. “It’s more akin to pretentious artwork without any real flavour than real food,” Hoseok reads from his phone to the entire kitchen. “Head chef, Kim Seokjin, is not far from what his cooking lacks too. A pretentious and egotistical nature, it’s no wonder his personal life is in shambles.” Your fist tightens. Not only did the published article criticize his dishes, claiming it lost its touch and that he’s lost his roots, but they attacked his personality. His personal life. Going into detail of how his relationship was broken off unexpectedly. “Oh shit,” Taehyung exhales. “Was that really posted online for everyone to see?” Jihyo asks in a pitched voice, equally horrified and panicked. Hoseok nods and before anyone can say anything, the backdoor is heard. Without prompting, everyone swiftly moves to their station, not uttering a single peep. Seokjin comes in, his expression unchanged and he deadpans the usual greeting as he moves past the kitchen. Your face above his head hasn’t changed. But you know it’s not the time to dwell on it. For the rest of the shift, Taehyung’s on his best behaviour and neither Jihyo nor Yoongi make snarky comments. It’s come at a cost — the morale is lower than usual. The atmosphere is tense and even Namjoon’s earnest encouragement can’t help. Out of the corner of your eye, you can’t help but watch Seokjin. He doesn’t make mention to the article, yet by the deep furrow of his brow, you can tell he’s in a grumpy mood. It’s understandable. But you wonder why it seems like he’s less angry and more hurt. If it were you, you’d be furious. The personal details of your life outed publicly and not only were your skills scrutinized, but your personality too. Seokjin was cheated on and now chastised. Even if he’s resilient, it’s too much for anyone to take. It doesn’t look like he has friends to rely on either. “Are you coming, Y/N?” Jihyo asks, turning around as you linger behind her. The restaurant’s lights are turned off, the kitchen long cleaned and your clothes changed into a fresh pair that doesn’t reek of dish soap and fish. But you feel unsettled. Like there’s still one more thing you haven’t finished doing. “No, it’s alright. I forgot something. You can go right ahead.” She nods, joining the others and you walk to the back, pushing the doors of the kitchen open. There’s still a light on and you find Seokjin sitting on a stool by a counter. He looks up at you, visage in a neutral state. Neither a frown nor a smile. “What are you still doing here?” Your hand tightens on your bag strap and you approach him. “Are you okay?” Seokjin smiles at you. For the first time, it isn’t mocking — it’s gentle and tinged with sadness. The corner of his plump lips quirk ever so subtly and his arm extends, hand plopping on top of your head before it slides off. “I’m fine. It’s still early enough that I don’t need to drive you. You should go home before the sun completely sets.” Wordlessly, you begin to walk away. But then a sharp inhale is stolen through your parted lips. Before you can second guess yourself, you grab Kim Seokjin. Your hand wraps around his wrist and he glares at you. “We should go out for a drink.” You don’t waver even with the incredulous look on his face. “What’s wrong? Never had a drink with an employee before? It looks like you need one and I’ll only offer once. I’m pretty busy myself, you know.” It’s aggressive, obnoxious, a bit loud. It’s all the things you suppose he dislikes in a person, yet somehow the two of you have never been closer. You end up in some hole in the wall, drinking shots of soju that burn its way down your throat. Seokjin sits across from you with an amused smile on his face that’s so irritating you want to slap it off, and you damn yourself for letting it slip your mind that you’re a lightweight. “Aren’t you hurt, Kim?” The words slightly slur on your tongue. “‘s ridiculous! To criticize your food is one thing, but to criticize your personality and talk about your personal life ‘s just crossing the line!” His lips pull, his eyes flicker down to the empty bottle beside you. “Yeah. It is.” “Then why aren’t you mad?!” Your fist pounds the wooden table. “Getting cheated on is sad enough! Why do they gotta rub it in, huh?” His brow lifts, but you continue, “should sue them!” Seokjin exhales on a sip. “It’s part of the business.” “No, ’s not!” “It was my ex who told them anyway. She’s upset that I kicked her out of the apartment.” “Then that’s more reason to be mad!” You press your face into your hands, angry at how he’s not angry. “How can you be so nice? How can you be so nice and no one knows it?!” Seokjin smiles to himself. “This freaking sucks,” you moan. He sighs at your drunken state and orders water for you. The old lady tottles by with a big smile and you get a chance to see the cloud of fog and the face above her head. “I brought the bean sprouts back,” her husband calls from the entrance at the same time with a grocery bag. “I’ll be right there.” She places the glass down in front of you. “Here you go.” Jealousy colours you pink inside. “You met your soulmate,” you exhale at her quietly. The woman’s eyes twinkle. “That old man? He gives me more headaches than anything. I’d rather this handsome man be my soulmate,” she quips, casting a glance at an embarrassed Seokjin who thanks her for her compliment. Her husband calls her again and she hurries back. Seokjin leans forward with a skeptical look. “Are you okay?” “I’m envious,” you sigh wistfully, looking on at the married couple at the back with your chin rested in your palm. After a moment, you shift towards the man across from you. Seokjin really is handsome. “I come from a long line of matchmakers, you know, and I have this ability.” He plays along. “What ability?” “I see the faces of who people are gonna end up with.” You drink the water, cooling your throat, but above the rim of the glass, you recognize his scoff and amusement. The glass slams down on the table in your protest. “It’s true! It’s been like that since I was a baby!” “Okay, okay. I believe you.” He clearly doesn’t believe you. Irritated, you straighten your spine. “A long, long time ago back in High School, I really, really, really liked this guy.” Seokjin’s brows raise, not sure where you’re going with this. “Alright…?” He nudges the glass of water back to you. “I knew he wasn’t gonna end up with me, but he asked me out. And like a total idiot, I-I went out with him anyway. Then guess what happened?” He has no idea. A thick lump forms in your throat and makes it hard to speak. “He met the girl he‘s supposed to end up with, so I broke it off. They got married a year after high school. So I was right. I was...right.” Tears flood your vision, clouding the dark-haired man in front of you. You forgo the water for the shot Seokjin poured himself and you down it. You were right. But it hurt. Seokjin’s voice is soft, though it does little to console you. “So….because of your ‘ability’, you haven’t gone out with anyone else?” You nod. “I’d be setting myself up for a failure anyway.” Your head lifts and your tired gaze connects with his. “My family wanted me to be a matchmaker like them. But I love, love, love cooking and I wanna be a chef. Like you.” The corner of his mouth quirks. You’re honest — in a way he wouldn’t have expected from sober you. But he doesn’t mind it whatsoever. “I know you don’t believe me. But look.” You reach over, tapping him relentlessly on the shoulder and your hand barely comes to cover your mouth as if you’re children exchanging secrets across the table. “See those two women over there? They’re gonna end up together.” Your whispers are all too loud and Seokjin glares, not sure if you’re hysterical or delusional. Or both. You turn to the window and he follows your line of sight. At the same time, a couple holding hands passes by and you shake your head. “They don’t end up together.” “How do you know?” “I already said! I see it. Above their heads.” Then you turn your head, looking at him. Seokjin’s startled, having not realized that you’ve leaned in so close, that your faces are mere inches away. But before he can shift back, your lip pulls and you murmur, “We’re supposed to end up together.” His brow raises. “It was gonna be someone else. Then one day, you came into work and poof! It was my face! Just like that. I almost got a heart attack, you know!” Giggles start to spill out of you. “It was a huge shock cause I always thought I was gonna be alone since I can’t see my own. Well, sometimes fate changes, so it might change again! Don’t worry!” He exhales, squeezing out the air from his lungs. He stands, grabbing his coat and then tugging your arm up. “You’ve had too much to drink. C’mon. Let’s go.” “Aye, aye, captain— I mean chef!” His smile is small, but all too evident. He should smile more, even if it ruins the cold and aloof exterior he’s got going on. It’s cute and makes him look younger. So you express the idea and he chops your head lightly with his hand and gives you a rather gentle ‘shut up’ that has you grinning more. // The sunlight burns your vision and there’s a pounding headache at your temples. There’s an overwhelming urge to pull the covers over your head, but as the slits of your eyes open and you realize there’s a strange floral scent to the sheets, you bolt upwards. It hurts all the senses in your body, but your eyes register the neat recipe books lined on the shelf, trophies and certificates on the walls, a poster of the planets, a telescope and Kim Seokjin’s family picture by his nightstand. And then you scream. “Christ. Relax!” He appears at the doorway, eyeing you with his arms crossed. “You were drunk, so I took you home.” Absentmindedly, you tug the covers up to your chest in spite of still wearing the same clothes from last night. Your dry voice croaks out. “We...we didn’t do anything scandalous did—” “No!” He shuts the thought down before it runs wild in your head and Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t do anything to you, jesus christ, woman! Just get up. There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. I’ll make you some breakfast and a hangover drink.” You follow his instructions, cleaning yourself up to the best of your abilities with the limited supplies, but it’s surreal to be in Seokjin’s penthouse. It’s clean and organized, like you expected, though a lot more cozy and warm. You didn’t know he traveled so frequently and that he had an interest in astronomy — if there’s anything the telescope and posters tells you. “Stop snooping,” he calls out from the kitchen, looking up to where you’re investigating his movie collection. You come over with a half-hearted apology and he sets down a bowl of oatmeal and a mysterious concoction in a tall glass. Both taste heavenly, enough to work up your appetite ten folds. But then he says, “Eat fast. It’s a special day today.” You’re not sure what he means by it, but you simply nod and nurse your headache. You remember what you told him last night, how you revealed all your secrets in one long tangent and you cringe at yourself. Seokjin probably thinks you’re a complete nut. But strangely enough, when you look at the cloud above his head, your face hasn’t changed. “Why are you staring?” “I’m not,” you mutter and tear your eyes away, unsuspecting to his smile. But in spite of how close and upfront you might’ve gotten with Seokjin, he still tells you to walk to work yourself — that it’s close enough and too much of a hassle if he drives you. So you cuss him out as you’re striding down the block as he zooms past you in his expensive vehicle. You hope he notices your glare from across the kitchen, but if he does, he doesn’t comment. “Today, we have some special guests for dinner service. A few of my friends will be coming and one of them will be proposing, so let’s make sure we give them a good dinner and memory.” “Yes, chef.” The news is exciting and even puts a buzz in the kitchen. “Finally, we’re doing something cool,” Taehyung says to you with a swollen smile. “I love a good proposal story.” “Always the one watching the proposal, never the one getting proposed to,” Yoongi quips as he brushes past and Hoseok snickers. “Hey, I’m working on it!” “I’m surprised Seokjin actually has friends though,” Jihyo comments and right when Yoongi turns to add something, they both pale as Seokjin strides past. He glares at them and is even more frightening in his silence. They immediately apologize and he hums, moving out the kitchen. You, Hoseok, and Namjoon laugh. Evening eventually comes and Seokjin temporarily calls a halt to the kitchen in favour of his old friends meeting his staff. It’s unusual to see him in such a good mood, smiling and being sociable. It’s strange in general to see this side of him, but it’s not unwelcome whatsoever. There’s seven of them, a mix of females and males, and you follow Hoseok’s lead in greeting and shaking their hands. Quickly, you recognize who's going to be proposing to who tonight. It’s not hard to miss considering the man is visibly nervous and the close female by his side keeps glancing at him in worry. “Are you alright, Jimin?” “Huh? Yeah.” The blonde with full cheeks and soft features smiles timidly, scratching the back of his neck. He’s dressed too nicely for this to merely be a dinner. “I’m fine. Just not feeling well.” “Are you sure you don’t want to stop by the clinic?” The short-haired female asks, concern evident in the faint knot between her brows. “There’s one down the street. I can go with you.” “I’ll keep an eye on him, Yuri,” the man who introduced himself as Jungkook reassures her, “If anything I’ll take him.” “Jimin’s just excited to try out the food.” Seokjin grins, drawing attention away from his friend. “Rest assured, everyone will feel better after eating and if you get sick tonight, it’s not food poisoning, alright?” There’s laughter in the group and another says, “You’ve been bragging about your restaurant for so long, I thought you were never going to invite us to eat here.” “Well, we’re usually booked full house, but it’s a slower season so I thought why not.” Yet the conversations drown away from your ears as your eyes unintentionally flicker upwards. You don’t mean to — it’s still a habit you’re trying to break. But you feel blood drain from your face as you discern the image that emerges from the fog above Jimin’s head and above Yuri’s. “Y/N?” Taehyung waves his hand in front of your eyes and you snap out of your trance. “Why are you staring into space? We’re going back.” “O-Oh. Sorry. I was thinking about something.” You return to the kitchen, forcing yourself to focus and getting back to your task. It’s none of your business. You know better than to involve yourself and it’s not like anyone would believe you in the first place. People’s lives have nothing to do with you. You have to turn a blind eye. It’s none of your business, it’s none of your business— But as you leave to the back area to grab ingredients, you catch the man leaving the bathroom. “Oh, you’re one of Seokjin’s chefs right?” Jimin stops and smiles at you, inhibiting your escape. You shake your head. “I-I’m only a kitchen assistant.” “But you’re still part of his staff.” His eyes are rounded and bright. “Is he mean at all? We’ve been trying to squeeze it out of him, but he won’t give us any details. I heard a bit of shouting, so I was curious.” “Oh, he’s always shouting.” The corner of your mouth quirks and Jimin grins. “He’s a bit mean, but Chef Kim’s just serious about his work and we respect him for it.” “It seems like you understand him better than I do. Anyway, the soup was amazing. I already told Jin, but I thought I should let you know since you’re the one who brought it out to us.” “Thank you.” Your eyes travel above his head and then you notice the way he’s fiddling with a box inside his pants pocket. You swallow hard. “Are you proposing tonight?” Jimin’s head whips up. “How’d you know?” “Chef Kim let all of us know, so we can make sure it’s a memorable dinner service.” His expression softens and he bobs his head. Jimin takes out the ring box and studies it carefully. “I am. I hope it wasn’t too obvious. I know she’ll say yes, but I’m still nervous. She’s the love of my life and these things only happen once,.” “Well….” You give an awkward chuckle. “Sometimes it happens more than once for people.” “Not for us,” Jimin declares in such self-assurance that it’s uncomfortable. His smile filled with affection doesn’t help either. “She’s the one. I don’t think I’ll love anyone more than her.” Your pupils flicker up to the cloud above his head that says otherwise. It gnaws at you, mocking you, and you’re uncertain if you can sleep tonight if you don’t say at least something. So you take the leap. “Are….you...sure?” “What?” “Never mind.” You turn around, having regretted it the moment it spilled. “Please enjoy dinner!” “Wait!” The man unexpectedly grabs you out of sheer instinct, halting you in your spot. He searches your face while his own crumples into a frown. “Did Yuri say something to you?” “No!” you frantically spit before taking a deep breath to calm down. “I’m just….I just….” The philosophy you’ve forced yourself to take collapses at his earnest visage. You were never good at being unattached. “D-Do you think this is a good idea? Are you absolutely sure about this?” “What’s going on here?” There’s a lower voice, a husky timbre. Seokjin stands at the end of the dark corridor and all traces of his outgoing personality are gone. It’s replaced with the serious demeanour you’re used to. He beckons you. “Can I speak to you for a moment, Y/N?” Jimin returns back to the table, even more unnerved than before while you’re pulled outside. You feel small with your back against the brick and Seokjin looming over you. “What the hell are you doing?” You flinch from his tone. You’ve never seen him so angry. He isn’t shouting, screaming or imposing. But the irritation seethes out of him, simmering underneath his skin. You swallow hard, downcast eyes searching the gravel. You think about how dark it’s getting with the sun setting over the horizon. “I…” “Are you seriously trying to talk him out of it?! What gives you the right—” You snap. There’s no reason he should be upset, no reason you should be treated this way. So with your teeth gritted, you give him the truth that’s hard to hear. The truth that you alone must bear. “They’re not going to end up together!” “What?” Seokjin wears the same incredulous look from last night. It’s futile. Still, your mouth runs off into mumbles, “I can see it above their faces. That woman, Yuri, she’s…..paired with that other man. Jungkook.” You give up. Waving the white flag. In the silence that follows, you expect Seokjin to fire you, or call the nearest hospital. Either you’re a nut or unsuitable to work in his kitchen. Maybe both. What you don’t anticipate is his startled expression, horrified as if you just told him there’s a ghost behind him. “How….how’d you know that?” The syllables unusually stutter out of him. It’s not like Seokjin to be inarticulate. “Jungkook hasn’t told anyone he loves her except for me.” It’s your turn to be surprised. The quietness lingers. Then, he sighs. “Don’t get involved,” he scolds, gentler than before. At the same moment, there are cheers from inside that leak out — clapping and hollering — you know Jimin’s proposed. Seokjin turns away, returning to the restaurant floor and you resume your position in the kitchen. Jihyo asks if there’s anything wrong, but you brush her off. For the rest of the night, you concentrate on your job and Seokjin’s friends bid farewell after their stomachs are full from dessert and there’s a diamond on Yuri’s finger. “Job well done everyone.” Seokjin has a satisfied look when he returns and Namjoon shares a smile with everyone. Clean up finishes soon after, but before you can leave, he calls you specifically. “Y/N, come here.” Taehyung looks at you with widened eyes, but you don’t utter a word, staying behind. The kitchen filters out and even Yoongi sends a sympathetic look your way before departing. It’s never a good thing to be called back. You brace yourself. If Seokjin didn’t make a scene firing you earlier than certainly will now. There’s no reason not to — you tried to stop an engagement between his close friends and he probably thinks you’re psychotic. You stand there in silence for a good minute as he fills out some paperwork. It feels like you’re in the principal’s office. Then, the corner of his mouth moves as he casts a glance at you. “Sometimes you borrow the kitchen to practice, right? You can practice tonight.” Confusion renders you immobile, filling your mouth with cotton, but you manage a slight nod. You start to chop vegetables into bowls, dicing and mincing ingredients that will be needed for tomorrow. All the while, Seokjin sits meters away from you with a bunch of papers. Either doing his taxes or filing a report to admit you into the hospital. You’re not sure which one it is. But halfway through, he pipes up again. “You should make something for the two of us to eat.” “Yes, chef.” On any other night, you would be bursting with excitement, knowing it was a chance to impress him. But now you wonder if this will be your last chance to cook. Within minutes, you have a pot on the stove, boiling for ten minutes. “Sit down,” he commands, motioning to the other stool and you oblige. Seokjin makes drinks in the meanwhile, asking what you want. When you mumble anything’s fine, he pulls out a few bottles from the back cabinet and starts mixing. You didn’t know he can bartend, but it’s almost expected that Kim Seokjin can do anything at this point. The atmosphere is terribly awkward, so you exhale from your nose and speak up, “I’m sorry. I...I know I stepped out of line. I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. I’m really so—” “I believe you,” Seokjin interjects, gaze meeting yours across the counter. Your breath hitches. “I didn’t believe you at first. About the whole ability thing. But when you told me that Jimin and Yuri won’t make it, I knew there was no other possible way.” He pours the drink into two glasses. “Jungkook and Yuri grew up together. He told me a long time ago he was in love with her and I was sworn to secrecy. No one else knows. Not his brother, his mom, or Jimin.” He passes it to you and sighs, taking a sip. “But there’s nothing I can do to stop Jimin or to help Jungkook. It’s something they have to figure out on their own.” You nod, gripping the stem of the glass. “I know.” There’s a pregnant pause. You lift your eyes and it connects with Seokjin’s. Instantly, you feel yourself breaking into a sweat at how intense he looks at you. “Is it true then?” he asks in the quaintness of the kitchen, his voice thick and low. “Are we going to end up together?” “It might change!” The words come out all too frantically in fear he’ll freak out like you did. You know it’s a lot to take in. “Things change all the time. You were supposed to end up with Jisoo, but then, but then things happened so….nothing’s ever certain. It all depends on our actions and choices. I know you don’t like people like me. I don’t have anything to offer you anyway—” “You need to have more confidence in yourself.” Your voice dies on your tongue. Seokjin’s staring at you again in a way that makes your palms clammy, so intense that you wonder if he’s scrutinizing your pores. You swallow hard, tearing your own gawking away until you hear sizzling. The two of you turn to where the pot is almost over boiling and you run over, grabbing it off the stove. “I-It’s done.” He grabs bowls as you set it down and uncover the lid. “What do we have here?” You’re embarrassed. It’s nothing like his fine dining dishes, or even his comfort food that somehow tastes like heaven. “It’s just carrot and potato curry stew. It’s actually something my family cooks…..so it’s nothing fancy.” Seokjin’s spoon dips into the liquid and it’s your turn to watch intently. He smells it, sips and his expression is kept blank. You stand. “I can throw it out if you want—!” “Why are you so jumpy today?” The corner of his plump lips curls. “And why would I want to throw out something so delicious?” Your heart stutters in your chest and tears fill your vision. He might not fire you after all and on top of that, both your inborn ability and cooking skills have been validated. You feel overwhelmed. Especially when he finishes his first bowl and goes for seconds. “This is what I’ve been missing in my cooking,” Seokjin murmurs with a tiny smile. “When they said I was missing my roots, I think I know what they mean now. Thank you, Y/N.” You’re not sure who’s filled with more gratitude. He smiles and you nod at him earnestly, speechless on what to say. At the end of the night, Seokjin drives you home in his black Mercedes. A kind of lull fills that car and it isn’t frightening like it usually would be. Rather, it’s comfortable. A little too short lasting. He parks the car at the curb in front of your apartment and you get out. “Thank you.” Yet after you shut the door, he rolls down the window and stops you. “Y/N.” You look at him and he smiles again. A phenomenon that used to be so rare that seems to happen frequently now. “I hope it doesn’t change.” Kim Seokjin gazes at you, eyes connected across the distance that feels like it’s closing. He never wavers and a lump forms into your throat. “Are we going to end up together?” — Your own words echo in the recesses of your mind— “It might change! Things change all the time.” But here he is. Going against all your efforts of trying to change fate itself. “I hope it doesn’t change. And I hope you don’t want it to change either.” Seokjin drives off, leaving you absolutely stunned. You wonder if he knows what he’s saying. But as you watch his car fade into the distance, somehow you’re not appalled or scared at the idea of being with him anymore.

The kitchen is an organized pandemonium. A place where everyone knows exactly what they’re supposed to do and moves in fluid motions by one another, like a busy crosswalk in the downtown area. It’s a kind of silent teamwork and while you’re merely helping Taehyung chop vegetables or washing the accumulated dishes, you know your role is still an important one. You just wish you could a little more. The moment the back door creaking can be heard, everything comes to a halt. Seokjin rounds the corner as everyone simultaneously greets him. “Good afternoon, chef.” “Afternoon.” There’s a smile on his features, one that surprises a few and makes the others unsettled. “There’s going to be a special menu item today, so I want that prepared as soon as possible.” He hands the new recipe to Namjoon who frowns upon the sprawled notes. “Carrot...and potato soup with chickpea crumble?” “If you need details, ask Y/N,” Seokjin says with a tiny smile. “It’s her recipe.” At once, everyone turns to you with shocked expressions. It’s one thing for Seokjin to suddenly introduce something new, but to introduce yours, it’s both unprecedented and a privilege. You stare at him and his smile widens slightly. “I hope you don’t mind.” “N-Not at all.” The daily tasks commence, but not without a pat on the back from Yoongi, a congratulations from Jihyo and a smile sent your way by Taehyung. Namjoon and Hoseok ask for your help and it’s the first time you’re not just mincing garlic in the corner or washing a stack of dishes. Pride bursts through you and you look across the kitchen to Kim Seokjin. He scoffs at how big your smile is, feigns a glare and tells you to get back to work. The rest of the dinner service goes smoothly. Your appetizer gets compliments from several and you couldn’t be any happier, even when everyone’s left and you’re still scrubbing dishes. There’s a click of a tongue beside you. Seokjin stands with his arms crossed. “You always find ways to make me pay you overtime. Move over.” He rolls up his sleeves and helps you wash the last pots and pans. “Thank you for today. It was a good surprise.” He hums and the pair of you finish up before he tells you to unload the dishwasher tomorrow. “Go change and grab your coat. It’s getting late.” “Are you going to drive me home?” “No. We’re going to scope out some competition.” “Competition?” “We’re going to eat at a restaurant called Dog World,” Seokjin brushes off quickly, but when you continue to blink at him, he sighs and waves you off. “Don’t ask too many questions, alright? This is my excuse for asking you out on a date.” If you weren’t caught off guard before, you’re wholly stunned speechless now. A deer in headlights. And it makes the older bastard grin widely. “Don’t worry.” His voice knocks down into a gentler tone. “You can reject me if you want. I don’t want you to be pressured because I’m your boss, even though I don’t think that matters to you. But you should also know I’m not doing this because of what you see.” He gestures above his head, unknowingly batting the cloud of fog you can perceive. “I’m doing this because I want to.” It sinks into you and your head tilts to your shoulder. “You….want to go out on a date with me?” The corner of Seokjin’s lip pulls and he diverts his vision elsewhere. You notice how his ears are turning red. “Ever since you sat down with me and told me that getting cheated on was sad enough and that they shouldn’t rub it in.” There’s silence. The first stretch of it is because you genuinely don’t know what to say to him. But the second stretch that follows is when you realize just how nervous he is and there’s a ruthless urge to keep him on the edge. You make him simmer in fear, a similar kind to the countless ones he’s given you during stressful shifts in the kitchen. There’s something powerful yet endearing about how Kim Seokjin anticipates your answer. You never thought he could be this way. He just keeps surprising you. When you can’t contain it anymore, you burst out laughing. “I’ll accept on the condition that if you take my recipe permanently, you’ll need to pay me royalties appropriately. Don’t think I won’t take you out to court, Kim.” Seokjin grins and for the first time, certainty sews into you. You have a feeling fate isn’t going to change and you hope it doesn’t either.

[Epilogue] The kitchen is your home. You’re sure Jin would adamantly argue that the house was perfectly fine to be considered your home, but there’s still a charm to the busy kitchen that has drawn you in since childhood. Even if the heat swelters in the still air and is stifling, even when grease and oil splatter and stains your clothes, the effort in cooking makes the food that comes from it even more delicious. “What is this?” All heads turn at your voice and you motion to the plate about to be brought out. “The rice is on the wrong side of the plate! Re-do this, and watch the plating people! I know it’s easy to forget but it’s important to be consistent with the presentation!” “Yes, chef!” It’s strenuous and difficult to be here. It took years to get to where you are, but you wouldn’t trade it in for anything. The reward is worth it. You love your job — maybe even more than Jin, and while you’re sure he wouldn’t be surprised, he’d still playfully whine about being casted aside. The rest of the night goes off without a hitch and once the kitchen is all clean, you switch off the lights and lock the doors. And like magic, the person you’ve been thinking about all day is leaning against the car parked on the curb, arms crossed as he stares out into the starry sky. “About time. I’ve been waiting for the past twenty minutes.” You scoff with a smile and discern the cold cloud emitting from his lips each time he exhales. This is the exact opposite of what you intended to happen. Sometimes you wonder if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy — by knowing he was going to be with you and trying to avoid it, you inadvertently made him closer to you. But whatever the case may be, you’re glad for the outcome. You close the distance and slap your hands against his frozen cheeks, trying to warm them up. A smile tugs on your features. “Sorry. You’re cold, aren’t you? You should’ve just waited in the car.” “But I wanted to see you right away,” he mutters, putting his hands on top of yours to keep you there, then he adds, “and it gives me reason to do this.” Seokjin grins and leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips, one that you smile into. If any of his old kitchen staff or even the current group saw him now, they’d faint with how grossly affectionate he was being. Then again, they might just be used to it considering Jin hasn’t ever paid mind to other people. He’s never been one to opt out of public displays of affection either. “You know I’ve been thinking lately.” “About?” “How hard I tried to get rid of you and how I couldn’t. You’re kind of like a pest.” Your husband of two years straightens his spine, wholly offended. “Pest?” Laughter bubbles out of your chest and you press another chaste kiss to his lips before you’re pushing him aside to get into the car. Seokjin chuckles, rounding the vehicle to get into the driver’s seat. “Are you hungry?” “Not really.” “Namjoon and Taehyung want us to go to the opening of their restaurant.” “Their opening event lasts for three days right? We can always go tomorrow.” You turn to him as he pulls off, driving down the street. “I’m kind of craving your comfort food tonight.” Jin grins, easily obliging while your eyes flicker up to the cloud of fog above his head. You see yourself smiling as widely as you are now, and you’re thankful you have your ability.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #jin fluff #jin scenario #jin reader insert #seokjin fluff #seokjin scenario #Jin as a scary chef :( who's just hardcore about his passion #yo this got Jungle Park Hoseok vibes lol ngl #actually it was inspired by the k-drama Oh My Ghost #I never finished watching it really but I based off the way their kitchen worked with this fic #so if it doesn't seem like a traditional kitchen that's why #I hope you guys enjoy this oneshot!#It's a more classic Jimlingss fluff #with a decent storyline

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spooky-z · 4 years

Text

IN THE DARK

This story contains: sexual harassment, attempted rape, panic attacks and language. Proceed with caution.

Important info: in this au, Hawkmoth was defeated and Gabriel was never Hawkmoth (nor Natalie-Mayura), but don't worry, he will have karma in his ass.

I didn't tag anyone again, because of the possible triggers.

I wrote this story listening in the dark by bmth in the replay.

You will find things wrong about the law and things like that, but I'm not a lawyer or a police officer so ignore it. This is only a fanfiction.

9.05K

Maribat by @ozmav

Adrien felt numb.

He knew that his heart was beating normally, his lungs working as usual, but the sensation of being suspended... The extra-corporeal sensation he was experiencing, caused these two facts to be left in the back of his conscience.

There was something.

There was someone.

Someone was talking to him.

But Adrien-

"He's having a panic attack!"

Adrien was choking. The air entering his lungs made his chest hurt, his eyes were open - he knew - but he could see nothing but shapes; the wet on his cheek said that he had cried, that he was crying.

His body was freezing, the taste mixed with blood and bile in his mouth made him sick, the sounds seemed distant and the smell-

The smell of her perfume.

Was too much-

Too much-

Someone was touching.

Someone was touching him.

And-

It was like he was still there.

As if she were there.

Adrien-

...

▫▪▪

"Shit." Marinette sighed. "He passed out."

"Sorry!" Chloe was crying heavily in Kagami's arms. “I'm sorry, Mari! I did not know-"

"It's all right, Chlo." Kagami rubbed the blonde's back. "You were just trying to help."

"But-"

"Chloe, it's okay." Marinette said, trying to put Adrien on the sofa. “We are going to let him rest. I need to clean up this mess.”

The mess being the vomit spread on the wooden floor, the lamp shattered on the table, apart from the torn tablecloth.

Adrien, trying to stop himself from falling or, trying to find something to act as an anchor, had pulled the tablecloth tightly, tearing the embroidered details from the hem. And when he hit the ground, he slammed against the table with the lamp.

This was all because Chloe had touched Lila's name.

And Marinette knew at once, that Lila had crossed all lines. Even without knowing what had actually happened.

The three girls were surprised by the sound of the door opening, but soon relaxed when they saw that it was just Luka.

Luka who didn’t know what had happened and was looking at the calamitous state of Marinette's house with horror.

"... What?"

"Adrien." Kagami sighed.

"Adrien?"

"He had a panic attack." Chloe elaborated.

"What was the trigger?"

"Lila." Marinette responded with disgust.

"What the hell did she do this time?" Luka narrowed his eyes, eyes in which the pupils were a little more... sharp. Like a reptile. A snake.

"We don't know." Chloe sniffed, still shaken. "The only thing we know is that when I touched her name, he started to freak out."

"When he got here, was he acting weird?"

"A little less cheerful, but we thought it was Gabriel acting like absolute trash again." Kagami replied.

Luka approached the sofa, eyes sliding over Adrien's sleeping figure. Noticing the reddish spots under the eyes and how the hair was a little oily; which was not normal, since Gabriel did not accept Adrien less than perfect.

"Didn't Plagg say anything?"

"Plagg is hiding with Tikki on the gramophone and doesn't want to leave at all." Marinette sighed. “He barely stopped to speak to us when Adrien arrived. He just dropped the transformation and disappeared into my room. "

"So, he knows what happened and for him to be acting like that, it means it wasn't just one of Lila's lies bothering Adrien." Luka said, fingers stuck in the foam of the sofa. “And apparently it was something really serious. Serious enough to break Adrien.”

"I knew we shouldn't have left Paris without him!" Marinette growled. "If I had just-"

"Marin, please, this is not your fault." Luka said, approaching the girl. “It is not our fault. Adrien even encouraged us to make this trip.”

"He knew you missed Damian." Chloe pointed. "He wanted us to get away from Paris a little bit to celebrate our transfer."

"Even so!" The girl protested. "If I had taken Kaalki, perhaps I could have avoided what happened here."

"Hime..."

"I am afraid." Marinette murmured, tears flowing freely and Luka hugged the girl. “Afraid that Lila has broken Adrien beyond repair."

▫▪▪

The scent of chamomile tea was what woke Adrien out of a dreamless sleep.

At first, he shifted in confusion because that was not his bed. That mattress was a little harder than the mattress on his bed, besides being very narrow and the ceiling was too low to be his home.

But then he heard Marinette's voice whispering something close to him, the blond of Chloe's hair over his stomach, the distinct red of Kagami's fencing uniform and the comforting blue of Luka side by side.

"..." He moved, stretching to sit and Chloe was quick to lift her head. He noticed that her eyes were slightly red. "Good Morning?"

"Adrien!"

"Hey, Chlo."

He was at Marinette's house.

Adrien had gone to the Dupain-Cheng house after fleeing the Agreste mansion.

After running away from his father.

After running away from Lila.

His memory of the day before coming back like an avalanche.

Just like tears.

▫▪▪

"Adrien!"

Marinette, Luka and Kagami hurriedly got up from the table after hearing Chloe's voice.

"Hey, Chlo." They heard Adrien's voice, hoarse and weak, before they saw him.

The model looked the worst for wear. The deep dark circles, the hair pointing in several possible directions, oily and the vomit stains on the shirt, gave a much worse look than he had before passing out.

Marinette was distracted by the tears running down the boy's face.

"Adrien." Kagami sighed, devastated. Eyes shining with tears.

The model bent over his knees before he started to cry hysterically. With painful sobs, snot running down his nose, fingers digging into the blanket Marinette had thrown over him the night before.

Adrien's body shook with the force of sobs, his skin had turned an alarming shade of red.

"I-I-" He tried to say.

Luka was the first to approach him, cautiously so as not to overburden the blonde further. He had no escape when Adrien threw himself on him, arms tight around the musician's waist and his face buried in his chest.

Luka put his arms around Adrien's shoulders, returning the hug as tightly as he could.

Chloe sat next to Adrien on the sofa, gluing his legs over her thighs and crying silently.

Kagami approached, but preferred to sit beside Chloe, one arm on the girl's shoulders and the other hand making circular motions on the skin of Adrien's foot.

Marinette was the last to approach, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Adrien, her hand making comforting movements on the boy's back and his blond hair.

They waited for Adrien to finish crying - Kagami having gone out once to make more chamomile tea - to give the boy a mug of tea.

When Adrien put his feet on the floor and leaned back on the sofa, giving Luka space to sit next to him, Kagami sat on the coffee table where Chloe joined her to be closer to the boy. The four around Adrien.

But it was only after he finished half the tea that Adrien started talking.

"Remember when I told you that I was going to talk to my dad about how Lila was making me uncomfortable in photoshoots and at school?" The four nodded. “Yesterday, before I left for school, I spoke to Gabriel. I told him how I was feeling about all of Lila's harassment and how I didn't want to have contact with her anymore and- “

Adrien took another sip of the tea, fingers tight on the porcelain.

“He said that I shouldn't complain. That an Agreste doesn't run away from a problem, he faces it.” He focused on the amber liquid in the mug. "That I shouldn't complain about my fiancée being sticky."

"What the fuck!?" Chloe whispered angrily. "Fiancée? Gabriel was classier than that.”

Adrien cringed at Chloe's words and the girl squeezed his knee in regret.

“I went to school; the day went by smoothly since Lila didn't show up for classes. I even got excited, even after the conversation with Gabriel. So, when I got home- “Adrien took one hand from the mug to intertwine with Luka's. Trying to anchor. “Lila was there, saying that my father had invited her for a romantic date with me, so we could get to know each other better... I ran away to my room. I-I don't know, I panicked I think.”

He shook his head, looking confused.

“I locked the door, I'm sure of it, but Lila managed to get in anyway. She saw Plagg.” He gasped; eyes wide. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't want to-“

Marinette put her arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

“Shh, it's okay, chaton. It was not your fault." She whispered against his hair.

Adrien remained with his face buried in Marinette's shoulder for a few minutes before moving away, his eyes fixed nowhere.

“L-Lila was surprised, but she understood what that meant in some way, I don't know how! So, she threatened to tell everyone if I didn't do what she wanted and I couldn't let her tell everyone about Chat Noir! I couldn’t!" Tears started to run down Adrien's face again. "So, I accepted."

"Adrien." Kagami sighed.

"I thought she would force me to fake a relationship or support her in her lies, I don't know!" Adrien's eyes became more and more glazed. “But that wasn't. That wasn't it. That wasn't it. That wasn't-” His voice trailed off; his lips trembled.

"Take a deep breath, baby." Luka stroked the model's hand, squeezing when Adrien did what he asked. "This, like this... We are here for you."

"She asked me for a kiss." He said weakly and Marinette felt her blood run cold, dreading Adrien's next words.

The other three, having the same reasoning as Marinette, had frozen.

“I didn't want to, but I did what she asked. But then...” He took a deep breath. "But then she said that a simple kiss wouldn’t be enough to keep such a big secret and that she wanted more..."

Adrien placed the mug of tea in Luka's hands, before covering his mouth tightly. Eyes fluttered, but Marinette was quicker.

She took the bucket she had left near the sofa, in case Adrien felt sick again and handed it to the boy, who violently poured all the tea with bile.

When Adrien sat back on the sofa, tired of being sick, Chloe took the bucket and set it on the floor. "Do you want some water?"

Adrien shook his head. "Not yet. I don't think I can keep something in my stomach.” He looked at the ceiling. “... I think I blacked out when she started kissing me, because all I remember after that was Plagg shouting my name and hitting my face. I was undressed, but I still had my underwear on and Lila was lying on the bed just in lingerie. I think Plagg knocked her out.”

Marinette rose from the arm of the sofa, unable to contain herself.

She had tears - like all of them - rolling down her cheeks, her fists were clenched and her nails digging hard into the skin of her hand, she had to use all her restraint to keep from catching Tikki and hunting Lila all over Paris.

Adrien didn't notice the girl's action, his eyes unfocused and still immersed in the story.

"So, I got dressed and used Chat Noir to get away." He continued. "I didn't really think about it until Chloe-" Adrien looked up. “Now I don't know what to do. I don't want to go home because my dad is going to be there and I don't want to go to school either because Lila is going to be there. I also can't stay at your house because I'm sure you will be the first suspects, but it's not like I have much of a choice, so-”

"Adrien." Luka said, barely managing to control the tone of his voice. "Don't you dare suggest going back to that house."

"You are not going back there, Adrien." Kagami stood up, hands running through her hair before she sat down at the table again. "What happened here was not something frivolous. That was very serious.”

"But-" Adrien tried to protest.

"You are not going back to that house." Marinette interrupted anything he could say. “Not if I have anything to say about it. What I have."

That's when Chloe's phone rang with a message received. Five messages in a row.

She got up to check, trying to distract her mind from everything Adrien had told them. Chloe was not coping well with the fact that Gabriel had let Adrien be abused just because he didn’t accept that his son was gay.

Of course, she didn't mention it to her four friends. But she knew that Gabriel's sudden interest in Adrien and Lila becoming more than classmates or co-workers, was linked to Adrien's announcement about being in a romantic relationship with another boy.

Gabriel had smiled and acted like the father of the year on camera, but they knew the truth, of course.

Adrien was on a call with Marinette when Gabriel broke into the boy's room demanding that Adrien retract himself. Demanding that he go to the press and say it was a mistake.

Because Gabriel would not accept his only heir to be in a relationship that, in addition to not bearing fruit - children - would be dragging the Agreste name in the mud because Luka was not someone of high society.

Luka Stone was not a fact known to everyone, only close friends and family. So, the man thought Luka was just a gold digger.

Not that it mattered to Adrien.

So, Gabriel was an old man, homophobic and traditionalist. He wanted Adrien to marry a woman, one who would give him grandchildren and was rich. Someone like Kagami Tsurugi. But Kagami had dodged that bullet by telling Tomoe that she was not interested in romantic relationships, wanting to focus all of her time on fencing.

Which was a complete lie, but it had worked.

Chloe thought Gabriel would try to negotiate Adrien's hand with Audrey, since the first option was out of the question, but he never contacted either Audrey or André about it, so she thought he had finally come to his senses.

But apparently, he felt so trapped that he sold his soul to Satan. The talk of finding someone in high society left out, focusing only on the 'woman who could give grandchildren'.

Chloe tilted her head, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

She couldn't break. Not with Adrien needing all possible support.

The phone rang two more times, the screen lit showing seven unread Sabrina messages.

Brina <3

[3:25 PM]: Dad showed up with another police officer and Mlle. Sancoeur looking for Adrien, did you see him? [3:25 PM]: Apparently, he ran away from home yesterday and nobody knows where he went [3:26 PM]: Lila is saying some very strange things... I don't know if I believe her. [3:27 PM]: She's accusing you and Marinette of kidnapping Adrien for being jealous of their relationship... But that can't be true, can it? Adrien is dating Luka! We all know that! [3:28 PM]: Chlo, I don't like what she's implying. Is Adrien okay? Did she do something to him yesterday? Is that why he ran away???? [3:29 PM]: Nino said that Adrien doesn't answer the phone and doesn't know where he might be. [3:30 PM]: If you are with Adrien now, let him know that they are going after him. They left for the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

"Mari, we have a problem!"

"What's it?"

“Gabriel pulled the strings and the police are already looking for Adrien. They are coming here.”

Adrien stood up from the sofa abruptly, his hands shaking and his face pale.

"I can't go back there." He stammered. “I know I talked about going back, but I can't. Don't make me go back there.”

Luka stood up, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders and forcing him to face him.

“Adrien, calm down. We will not send you back there.”

"What are we going to do, Marin?" Kagami asked worriedly.

"I know exactly what to do." Marinette replied, determined.

She wouldn't let Gabriel or Lila get away with it. They would pay for hurting Adrien.

▫▪▪

Chloe jumped in surprise at the sound of the doorbell ringing, but Kagami was quick to kiss the girl's hand in comfort. Trying to calm her down.

Marinette sent a look at the two of them, before getting up from the sofa and answering the door. Where M. Raincomprix, Mlle. Sancoeur and another police officer, one she didn’t recognize, looked at her critically.

“Oh! Hello M. Raincomprix! Mlle. Sancoeur and...”

“Berger. Louis Berger.” The man introduced himself.

"M. Berger.” She repeated, smiling sweetly. “What brings you here? I hope it's not for our pastry, because Mom and Dad are in London on vacation!” Marinette joked.

Sancoeur frowned in annoyance, Raincomprix looked increasingly uncomfortable and Berger was the only one who was courteous enough to smile pleasantly at her.

"Unfortunately, we're not here to-" Raincomprix started, but Sancoeur was quick to cut him off, almost pushing Marinette to the floor as she passed through the door.

"Where's Adrien?!" She snarled.

"Adrien?" Marinette murmured in confusion. "I haven't seen Adrien since last week, before I left."

"We received information that Adrien Agreste would be here." Raincomprix said, being more polite than Sancoeur when entering the house, followed by Berger.

"I don't know who could have informed you about this, but it is impossible for Adrien to be here." She answered. "I arrived from Gotham just last night."

Sancoeur grunted like a furious dog, looking like she was about to hit Marinette. Which was a surprise, since Marinette never saw the woman less than composed.

"Don't lie to us!" She spat. "I know that you are obsessed with Adrien and crazy enough to try anything!"

Marinette frowned, feeling offended. She was trying not to break the insolent woman's nose.

“Mlle. Sancoeur I really don't know where Adrien- “

"Adrien?" Chloe's voice cut the tension between the two. And the four turned to face Chloe standing in the middle of the room, Kagami beside her holding hands. "What's with Adrien? Something happened? He’s fine?" She was frantic, almost panicked.

Marinette had to admit that the girl had a talent for acting.

“Oh, Mlle. Bourgeois and Mlle. Tsurugi, you would be next on the list.” Berger said surprised.

"List? What list?” Kagami looked genuinely confused. “And what does this have to do with Adrien? Can someone explain to us what the hell is going on? "

Raincomprix had a painful expression on his face.

"Adrien Agreste went missing last night and nobody knows where he might be."

"WHAT?!"

▫▪▪

Needless to say, Natalie seemed less than happy to be leaving Marinette's house. Having sniffed every corner and not finding a single strand of blond hair to accuse the girl of kidnapping.

The officers left the house on various levels of embarrassment thanks to Sancoeur's less than ideal behavior.

▫▪▪

"What is the plan?" Damian asked.

All of them - except Luka who had gone to Liberty just to get him off the list of suspects - were at Wayne's mansion in Paris. The place that Adrien would stay hidden until it was time to appear again.

After Sabrina's warning, Marinette was quick to throw Trixx and the necklace over Adrien's hands, ordering him to transform and then casting an illusion over himself, becoming invisible. Soon after she got in touch with Damian explaining everything as quickly and succinctly as she could and he told Adrien to hide there, at Wayne mansion, where no one would come looking for him.

Luka had left at the same time as Adrien, losing the police and Sancoeur in a matter of minutes.

Kagami, Chloe and Marinette stayed in the house for an hour after Sancoeur and company left, before heading to Wayne's mansion.

Where they were trying to come up with a plan that would destroy Gabriel and Lila once and for all.

"I don’t know." Marinette sighed. “Defeating Hawkmoth was different from that here because well, the guy was a terrorist and I was just able to beat him up with all my strength. Now, Gabriel is a civilian, a despicable and horrible, but still civilian. The same goes for Rossi. I cannot go with brute force.”

"How about blackmail?" Tim suggested, they were all sitting on the floor of the game room trying to think of something.

Kagami shook her head. "Blackmail may be a good idea at first, but it loses its effectiveness as time goes on."

“It has to be something more definitive. Like jail or death.” Chloe said, not caring about her abruptness.

Adrien was not among them, which was a major factor in Chloe's lack of filter. The model had gone up to one of the guest rooms wanting to bathe and sleep. Trixx following him closely, since Marinette was not comfortable leaving him alone.

Plagg still refusing to leave the Kwamii dimension.

Plagg. Plagg.

"Wait!" Marinette stood up; her brow furrowed in concentration. “Do you remember what Adrien said? About Lila recognizing Plagg.”

Kagami bit her lip thinking, before opening her eyes wide. "He said that she knew what Plagg meant."

Tim cocked his head in confusion. "So, she saw Adrien transform before?"

Chloe shook her head frantically. The eyes were wide, too. "No." She answered. “Adrien said that Lila saw Plagg and understood what it meant. If she had seen Adrien transform before, she would have already tried to blackmail him.”

"Not to mention that he said she was surprised, before informing him that she knew what Plagg was." Kagami said.

"Which means..." murmured Marinette.

"Lila already had contact with miraculous and kwamii before she saw Plagg for the first time." Damian worked out the train of thought. "And the only miraculous who was not with the Guardian was-"

"The butterfly." Everyone said together.

The five froze, the meaning of those words weighing on them, only returning to normal when Plagg suddenly appeared between them.

"Pigtails, I have an idea on how to take down the demon Rossi." He said without the usual tone of mockery. “About Agreste senior, I think your boyfriend and his brother will get enough just by investigating his past. The guy is not very good at hiding the tracks.”

The four who were still sitting on the floor stood up, different levels of determination showing on their faces.

"But before that, let me call the cavalry." Marinette agreed, hand taking the phone out of her jeans pocket.

"Cavalry?" Tim muttered confusedly to Damian and the boy just sent a conspiratorial smile in response.

Marinette had the phone to her ear.

“Mom? I need your help and Dad's.” She said. “It's about Adrien. He needs his family.”

▫▪▪

Finding evidence against Gabriel was like Plagg said: easy.

The guy had the Everest of dirt, but he had no idea how to get rid of the evidence. He probably just hadn't been arrested yet because he was rich and because of corruption. After all, why arrest a guy for free when you can keep him free and still earn a fat bonus for that, right?!

They managed to do away with two printer paper packages and there was still a shortage of paper to print the evidence against him.

Rossi had been easy and complicated at the same time, because the evidence about her being less than a decent person had been easy to find. A little survey of the previous schools she had attended gave them more than enough evidence that the girl was at least a sociopath and at most a psychopath.

Not medicated and who, in a way, liked it.

However, finding evidence that Lila worked with the Paris terrorist had been more complicated than they thought it would be. Even with Tim and Damian together investigating this part of Lila's life, there was very little to prove that she was part of it.

What led Marinette and Damian- Ladybug and Thaelab, the current situation: La Santé Prison. Where Hawkmoth, Bob Roth, was being held. She had requested visitation for the criminal with the excuse that she had a proposal for the man in exchange for information.

She reached the small room, where there were two prison guards at each corner of the wall behind Bob, and the man himself was sitting, along with the lawyer, at the only iron table in the center of the room.

Marinette wasted no time in sitting on the available chair across the table, Damian preferring to stand, leaning against the wall behind her.

"What brings the heroes of Paris to my humble residence?" Bob Roth crossed his legs, his nose held up despite his lack of power.

"I want to know about Lila Rossi." Marinette wasted no time. "I want to know about the person who was helping you to terrorize Paris."

Bob froze in his chair, his lawyer casting suspicious looks at the man. Bob probably hadn't informed him about his aide in crime.

The prisoner cleared his throat in surprise before disguising his discomfort with a disdainful pose.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Marinette raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Bob, please. Don't act like I’m an idiot.”

"I still don't know what you're talking about." He insisted.

Marinette sighed, getting up from the chair.

"Okay then." She said. "I thought we could negotiate a reduction in your sentence in exchange for information, but apparently I was wrong." She sighed before turning to leave. "Thaelab." And Damian pushed himself off the wall, following her.

Bob's eyes widened in a panic.

"WAIT." He called, Marinette and Damian stopping inches from the door, still not turning around. "If I tell-" The lawyer nudged him, trying to stop the man from speaking, but he ignored the warnings. “If I tell you about Lila, can you bring Xavier over to see me? I haven't seen my son since I was thrown here.”

Marinette and Damian looked at each other before nodding and returning to the table, both sitting down, their attention focused on Bob Roth.

The man sighed, shoulders slumped and looking away.

"You're right." He started. "Lila Rossi knew about Hawkmoth."

“How did she knew that? As far as we know, Lila arrived in Paris after you started terrorizing citizens. So, how?" Damian questioned.

Bob Roth looked up, his mouth in a thin line.

"Lila Rossi is my daughter." He replied. "A daughter I never wanted, but who came to my door threatening to expose everything to the press if I didn't do what she wanted."

▫▪▪

"This is what I call a plot twist." Adrien whistled, a recording of Marinette and Damian's conversation with Bob Roth playing. "She was blackmailing her own father."

"But now we can understand where she got this toxic behavior from." Chloe murmured. "Madam Rossi is a loving person despite being so busy, so I never understood how Lila could be so..." She waved her hands in the air, trying to find the right word.

"Bob?" Kagami offered confused.

"That will do." Chloe shrugged.

"But I don’t understand." Luka frowned. "If she was already blackmailing him with fatherhood, then why let her know about Hawkmoth?"

"Because if she tried to hand him over to the police, he would be able to 'prove' that Lila was helping him all this time." Tim responded easily.

"So, he set up his own daughter." Marinette shook her head, failing to understand how most of the people she knew had serious problems with their parents, while she was rainbows and flowers with hers.

"A girl he didn't even consider as a daughter." Damian pointed. “It was easy to notice the contempt in his voice as he talked about Lila. Very different from when he talked about Xavier.”

"Do we know why he wanted the miraculous?" Chloe asked.

Adrien looked up in confusion. “Oh? Didn't I tell you?” He tilted his head. “He wanted to revive Xavier's mother. His wife."

"I'm kind of sympathizing with him." Kagami winced in disgust. "But I don't want that."

"Okay, guys." Tim slammed hard against the keyboard. “The dossiers about Lila Rossi and Gabriel Agreste are ready. I think it's time for Adrien Agreste to show up.”

"It's show time, guys!"

▫▪▪

Mlle. Bustier was in the middle of an explanation when Markov started to fuss, the screen turning red and flashing "Urgent!"

Everyone looked at the little robot in alarm until he started to project a video on the green board.

It was a report by Nadja Chamack.

"We are here, in front of the police station, where Adrien Agreste was spotted entering accompanied by Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain from the Dupain-Cheng bakery and three other lawyers." Nadja announced to the camera, in the background, the police station in evidence. With barriers to prevent the overtaking of the curious and journalists. “Adrien Agreste, who had disappeared a week ago, appeared today for the first time. He has not yet left the police station and the only information we have obtained so far is that he is filing a complaint about what motivated him to run away from home.”

Nadja's image was replaced by a recording of Adrien getting out of a black car with tinted windows, accompanied by Sabine and Tom - Marinette's parents -, two men and a serious-looking woman wearing suits and with a leather briefcase in her hands.

Adrien seemed far from the model image that Bustier's students were used to.

There were dark circles under his eyes, eyes that were bloodshot. The blond hair that was once shiny and silky was dull and coarse. There was an abnormal pallor in the boy's skin.

The clothes he wore were atypical. A huge hoodie, sweatpants and sneakers. Black from end to end.

Tom and Sabine were on either side of the boy, trying their best to protect him from flashes and questions, before the police finally showed up escorting them into the police station.

Filming went back to Nadja.

“As you can see, Adrien Agreste gave no statement and we had no news from Gabriel Agreste or his staff. My name is Nadja Chamack and I will be back with more information.”

The projection was cut off abruptly, the entire class in shocked silence before they jumped out of chairs, loud and confused voices. Everyone trying to understand what the hell was going on.

Sabrina was the only compound, her eyes sharp on Lila Rossi who was strangely quiet, with a sticky glow on her skin.

Sabrina was sure that if she looked Lila in the eye, she would see the dread there.

▫▪▪

"How did they find out that Adrien was going to the police station?" Tim asked confused.

"Nadja is a close friend of the Dupain-Cheng family." Damian replied disinterestedly. "Sabine contacted her and with the promise of an exclusive and Nadja alerted fellow journalists to Adrien's testimony."

Tim frowned even more confused.

“But wouldn't it be better if no one knew that Adrien was back? For us to have the trump card.”

"I thought so too, but apparently the first image of Adrien's return would have to be shocking." The boy crossed his arms. "The image of Adrien Agreste at the bottom of the well, being the first to be published in the press, to pave the case against Gabriel and Lila."

Tim winced at the harsh words.

“Wow, wasn't that a little too much? Expose Adrien like this...”

"It was his idea, actually."

"... Despite everything that's going on, Adrien manages to keep his head cool enough to think that way." Tim murmured. “I am amazed and proud. I don't know which one stands out the most.”

▫▪▪

The disclosure that Adrien had appeared was not just to spread the boy's defeated image. Of course not. Marinette would not be insensitive to such a way of letting Adrien expose himself as harshly as if he were on a freak show.

No. That had also been bait.

They knew that as soon as Gabriel found out that Adrien was back and accompanied by Marinette’s parents, it wouldn’t take long for him to break into Dupain-Cheng bakery and distribute threats about what he could or couldn’t do if they didn’t hand Adrien back to him.

Which didn't take long to happen.

After the news that Adrien had left the police station without giving a statement of what had happened, Gabriel didn't take long to appear at Sabine and Tom's door. Natalie, Gorilla - who had an expression of sadness - and two men who were supposed to be for frighten Marinette's family, but that did not have the expected effect.

“Good evening, M. Agreste. To what do I owe the honor of this most dignified visit?” Sabine asked. The mocking tone of her voice did not go unnoticed by anyone.

Man, he had the guts. The bakery was surrounded by journalists and he still had the audacity to appear as if he were the queen of England.

"Where is my son?" Gabriel asked, his entire posture showing contempt. “I hope you are aware that I will be filing a complaint for kidnapping and private imprisonment. Your daughter lied to two policemen and you and your husband covered it up.”

Tom, who was comfortably seated on the sofa, looked up. The expression on his face was very different from what he normally had.

"Kidnapping? Are you sure about that, Gabriel?” Tom asked. "I want you to think very carefully about your next words."

Gabriel snorted in offense.

"What else would it be when my son goes missing for a week and your daughter lies saying she doesn't know his whereabouts?"

“How about: harassment, attempted rape, cover-up, exploitation of child labor, neglect, gaslighting...? There are a number of things I could also suggest here, but it is better to leave that for trial day.” Marinette finally spoke, rising from the sofa and approaching the door. Approaching Gabriel.

Natalie gasped, fury shining in her eyes. "What are you talking about you-"

“If I were you, I would keep the poisonous tongue in my mouth if I don't want to lose it, Mlle. Sancoeur. I personally don't like violence, but if it's necessary I wouldn't mind teaching you some good lessons.” Sabine said, there was a sweet smile on the woman's face.

"What is this story about trial?" Gabriel demanded.

That was when Katherine Spencer, one of the lawyers Bruce had made available to defend Adrien, rose from the dinner table. She had insisted on staying at the Dupain-Cheng house, since the likelihood of Gabriel showing up to take Adrien and threatening them, was high.

"M. Agreste?” She asked. "I have some documents that should be of interest to you."

"And who would you be?" Gabriel raised his eyebrow, snobbish.

"Oh, sorry for my lack of manners." Katherine opened the leather briefcase and took a business card out of one of the smaller pockets, before handing it to Gabriel. "I'm Katherine Spencer, one of Adrien's lawyers."

Gabriel looked at Katherine and the paper, disbelieving what he read and heard.

"It says here that you are part of the Wayne conglomerate...?" He said, bewildered.

Katherine smiled, probably enjoying the effect it had on Gabriel.

"Yes, Marinette and Adrien are very close to the Wayne family, so when Mr. Wayne heard about Adrien's situation, he sent three of his best lawyers to help." She replied, the smile never failing.

With that, she opened the leather briefcase again, taking a wad of papers from the largest pocket, before handing them out to Natalie, who took more by reflex. And then she handed Gabriel a single paper.

The man's eyes grew a few inches after reading the biggest words on the paper and Katherine used this as permission to continue her speech.

"As you can see, this is an immediate restraining order." She nodded. “You and any Gabriel employee, whether personal or from your brand, including models, may not contact Adrien Agreste by any means possible. Otherwise, the police may be called.”

“But-but Adrien is Gabriel's face! My main model!”

Katherine nodded as if she understood the man's indignation.

"As you can see a little further down in that document, Adrien is indefinitely prohibited from working under the Gabriel brand until the investigation and trial are over."

"Investigation? Trial? What the hell are you talking about?” Natalie asked, looking more and more irritated.

Katherine stared at the woman without reaction.

“Adrien, Mlle. Sancoeur, was sexually harassed and nearly raped by a classmate who coincidentally also works for Gabriel.” Natalie gasped in horror. "All of this under the roof of his own home, with the permission of his own father."

"That- no-" Natalie babbled. Behind her, Gorilla had his hand over his mouth, a greenish tinge to his skin.

“I'm afraid it's true, Mlle. Sancoeur. There is testimony and evidence about it. " Katherine sighed heavily. “Today Adrien went to give his testimony again, so that there would be no reasonable doubts and then we got the restraining order. Now you must go.” She waved her hands. "There can be no contact between Agreste and Adrien."

▫▪▪

Not surprisingly, when Lila received her restraining order, she freaked out.

The girl tried with all her strength to make herself a victim, even going so far as to give an interview to a local TV channel - less famous than Nadja's, but which attracted everyone's attention because Adrien's name was involved - telling what supposedly happened.

Madam Rossi was next to her daughter, both sitting on a sofa in what should have been Lila's house, while the girl cried copiously in a false way, telling how Adrien Agreste had attacked her at a business dinner. That he just didn't go any further because they heard a strange noise coming from the main floor, so Adrien ran for fear of being caught.

▫▪▪

Adrien's fans ate Lila for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

▫▪▪

It wasn't long before she also showed up at the bakery with the mask of a good girl being wronged. Demanding that Adrien withdraw the restraining order because it was destroying their relationship.

She looked more and more insane.

When Sabine took the girl upstairs to their home, Lila thought she had finally managed to get away with it. Only to come face to face with Marinette Dupain-Cheng and another frankly scary boy - he had a horrible scowl and a murderous look - sitting as if they were waiting for her.

Lila looked around expecting to see Adrien, but there were only the two of them there. Sabine soon returned to the lower floor.

“Hello, Lila. What are you doing here?" Marinette asked curiously, a cup of tea in hand.

"Where is he, Dupain-Cheng?" She spat, not bothering to act. Marinette wouldn't believe a word she said.

Marinette raised her eyebrow in surprise.

"He?"

“Don't be stupid, Marinette. Everyone knows that Adrien is hiding here like a coward after he ran away from home.”

"Don't you mean after you tried to rape him?" The scary boy asked. That was when Lila noticed the oriental sword leaning against the side of his chair. Unsheathed.

“I didn't do that! He's just confused!” She stammered.

"I don't know Lila..." Marinette tilted her head innocently. "Blackmailing someone for... sex, also falls into the category of rape."

Lila swallowed a sigh, surprised that Marinette knew the details. She believed that Adrien had told only the basics, trying to keep his furry secret out of the spotlight. Lila had plans to use this surprise factor to her advantage, but apparently Adrien was playing to win.

"Don't be surprised, Rossi." The boy said again. "Don't think you're the hunter here."

"What-"

"With that, I want you to meet someone formally." Marinette said nonchalantly. "Plagg."

And Adrien's kwamii appeared, incredibly scary for such a small and generally cute, creature.

“Hello sausage. We have a matter to discuss.” He said, his voice resonating on the walls of Marinette's house and Lila backed away in alarm.

She needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

▫▪▪

“There, pigtails! Her memory of me is erased, but I haven't erased the attempt to... Anyway! I'm going back to the house of your murderous boyfriend, Adrien promised to watch the lion king with me with a lot of camembert.”

"Thank you, Plagg."

▫▪▪

For the interview with Nadja Chamack, Adrien decided that the best place for this interview would be in the place where he felt most secure. The Dupain-Cheng house, on Marinette's balcony.

There were only Nadja and Adrien in the camera frame, but Tom, Sabine, Luka and Marinette were in the background, along with the cameraman, in the form of support.

"Thank you for granting us this exclusive, Adrien." Nadja smiled. "I know it shouldn't be easy to sit here and relive everything, especially now with Lila Rossi's recent interview."

Adrien nodded, he looked more composed than the first time he appeared on cameras at the police station, but it was still possible to see how puffy his eyes were and how thin he had become.

He was having a hard time keeping food in his stomach.

“Thank you, Nadja. It has been a difficult time for me, but with the support that I have received from my family, I remain strong on this journey.”

"This is very good to hear Adrien." Nadja nodded before speaking again. “Could you tell us what actually happened? Many of your fans believe that Lila's statements were false. What's your version of it all?”

"Well..."

▫▪▪

This time the witch hunt version Gabriel Agreste and Lila Rossi had tripled in strength, because in addition to Adrien's fans, parents who were outraged by Gabriel's behavior and artists who knew Adrien for the sweet and kind boy he was, protested.

They demanded that Gabriel and Lila to be thrown in jail and the key forgotten at the bottom of the seine.

▫▪▪

Both were arrested the day after the interview.

Gabriel got provisional release, of course. Such a rich man would not be arrested if he could do something about it.

Lila, on the other hand, had to wait for the trial in a juvenile detention center, even though Madam Rossi had tried everything she could to keep the girl from being taken away.

▫▪▪

On the day of Gabriel's trial, the press was in full force in front of the Palace of Justice, wanting an exclusive or some pronouncement from Gabriel, because since Adrien's interview, the man has remained strangely quiet.

The court was packed. The Mlle. Bustier’s class by weight had attended the man's trial. They were all sitting in the right hall, behind where Gabriel's group of lawyers was sitting.

Only Nino and Sabrina who were on the left. Nino was sitting in the front, as close to Adrien as possible.

He was happy that Gabriel was finally getting what he deserved, but also sad that Adrien had to go through hell for this to finally happen.

Sabrina was content to sit next to Chloe and Kagami.

The Wayne family had also attended, all wanting to show support for Adrien in this difficult time. Leaving the Super family to look after Gotham while they were away.

There were also curious people, some people from Adrien's fan club, some parents of Mlle. Bustier's students and accredited reporters like Nadja.

The stage was set and Gabriel was the main character.

The defense attorney had taken the route of trying to turn Gabriel into a victim of Lila's manipulations, which might have been true to some extent, but that made no difference when Gabriel was a terrible father. And such awful person.

He had no excuse for that, because it was obvious that Emillie was the only one of the two who really took care of her son and that it ended when she died.

To say that it was satisfactory when Katherine tore him up in front of the audience, jury and judge Lahiffe - Nino's mother - did not come close to the real feeling that the miraculous team felt.

When Gabriel was found guilty... Well, it wasn't Marinette's fault the shout of celebration they let out.

Thirty years in prison and a ban on any attempt to contact Adrien.

▫▪▪

Adrien later that day, discovered that the Dupain-Cheng were officially applying for guardianship.

He still had two years to reach legal age and as Gabriel and neither Emillie had close family, Adrien would enter the system. What Sabine and Tom Dupain-Cheng would not admit.

Adrien was already part of the family.

▫▪▪

The miraculous team was amused to realize that every time someone called Adrien Agreste, he would correct it by saying it was Adrien Dupain-Cheng now. With his chest puffed out like a peacock spreading feathers.

▫▪▪

Mlle. Bustier's class and even the teacher herself tried to contact Adrien or any of the three - Adrien, Marinette and Chloe -, but every attempt was thwarted by Tom.

Adrien needed time and he couldn't do that with a group of curious and insensitive teenagers buzzing in his ear.

▫▪▪

Lila's trial had been less of a show and more of a funeral.

She appeared in court accompanied by prison guards, her hands and feet handcuffed and typical prisoner clothing, but what attracted the most attention about the girl was her short hair. Navigating between a pixie and a mullet.

Adrien shifted uncomfortably in his chair next to Katherine, looking confusedly at Marinette.

He knew that Marinette was watching every step Lila took, even in the detention center, so she was probably aware of this sudden change in Lila's appearance. But she never said anything to him.

(Of course Marinette said nothing. She knew that if she told Adrien that other girls in the detention center - his fans - had taken revenge on the Italian girl for what she did, Adrien would feel guilty. Even if Lila deserved a lot worse than a simple bad haircut.)

As the trial passed, everyone there was certain that Lila was being judged just because she was a terrible human being who doesn't know how to hear no; but when Katherine was getting more and more evidence out of her briefcase, everyone started to understand that Lila was much worse than they thought.

Madam Rossi had hyperventilated three times before the big revelation that Lila helped Bob put terror in Paris. So, when the man came in as a witness against Lila and told the whole truth, the woman fell hard against the wooden bench.

She had to be carried out of court.

▫▪▪

There was no deliberation.

Lila was immediately found guilty.

She got a life sentence with no chance of parole.

▫▪▪

"How are you feeling, chaton?" Marinette asked, fingers dancing over his blond hair.

“Relieved, sad and tired. And also happy.” Adrien replied, his face buried in the girl's neck.

The two had built a fort on Marinette's balcony, enjoying the clear skies and warm night. Trying to disconnect from everything and everyone.

Adrien was curled over Marinette's body, grabbing the girl as if she were his lifeline and Marinette had her arms around him, her fingers playing with the blond hair on the back of his neck.

“I know it has been difficult, that it is a lot to assimilate, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you. Always." Marinette whispered. "I will never let my kitten suffer again."

Adrien sniffed, arms tightening Marinette even more.

“Thank you, Mari. I'm very lucky to have met you.”

BONUS #1:

"I was thinking here..." Adrien looked up from where he was kneading the dough, drawing Marinette's attention across the table decorating cupcakes.

"Yes?" She murmured, the tip of her tongue dangling in concentration.

"If you're going to pursue a career in the fashion world, who's going to take care of the bakery business?" He looked away, his cheek starting to turn a lovely red. "Sabi-Mom and dad won't have a lifelong willingness to take care of the business, so who's going to do it for them?"

Marinette placed the cupcake on the table, looking at Adrien seriously.

"Adrien, be direct and say what you are thinking."

"I-"

"I think Adrien is trying to say that he wants to become a full-time baker, isn't that cupcake?" Luka asked, appearing out of nowhere behind the blond boy and kissing the reddened cheek.

Adrien squeaked in surprise, almost dropping the dough off the counter.

"Luka!" He scolded. “Don't scare me like that! And don't call me a cupcake!”

"Sweetie?"

"Sweetie either!"

Marinette rolled her eyes at them both.

Luka, after he started his relationship with Adrien, seemed to discover new parts of himself that he was previously unaware of.

Like being hopelessly in love and endless flirting.

It was disgusting.

"Okay, you two stop." She got attention. “The two of you flirting is disgusting. Too much sugar for my system.”

Adrien snorted, offended, Luka just winked boldly.

Marinette ignored them both.

"But if that's the case, I don't think dad would mind Adrien." She continued. “He will probably be very happy, actually. God knows how that man tried with all his might to develop my interest in baking full-time, but he never succeeded.”

Adrien smiled, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Do you really think?!"

"Of course." She nods. "Best of all, we have some of the best pastry schools here in Paris, in case you don't want to leave."

"Who's leaving?" Damian came into the kitchen looking like he was still asleep.

He and Luka had spent the night at the Dupain-Cheng house after a double date for horror movies with lots of buttered popcorn and sugary drinks.

It was supposed to be a slumber party with everyone, but Kagami had taken Chloe and Sabrina on a date; Nino was on Chris' nanny duty and Damian's brothers, who had arrived in Paris that night, preferred to stay home to recover from the jetlag.

So, it was just the four of them. And they managed to get to half of Annabelle before they passed out in the dreamland.

Marinette and Adrien just waking up when Tom passed the room to go down to the bakery, Luka and Damian sleeping heavily.

"No one. Mari was explaining to Adrien that he is more than welcome to continue the family business while she reigns in the fashion world.” Luka handed him the coffee mug.

"Amen." Damian murmured, planting a kiss on the girl's forehead before swallowing half of the black coffee at once.

"He looks so much like his brother when he does that." Said Adrien, remembering the time he had slept on the sofas at Wayne Manor and woken up with Tim sipping a huge mug of black coffee as if he were drinking water.

Marinette snorts with amusement.

"I always say that, but he never takes me seriously."

Damian frowned unhappy with the comments, but said nothing, seeing Sabine open the door with a tray of cookies in her hand.

"Look what just came out of the warm oven!"

Marinette smiled, her eyes on Adrien who had run to the woman, trying to help her with the tray even though she didn't need to. He was blushing adorably for the attention Sabine was giving him.

She was happy that Adrien was finally getting the attention and love he deserved.

BONUS #2:

Marinette was sitting in a small, but wonderful, restaurant with Leon.

Leon whom Adrien affectionately called Gorilla and who of everyone in that house, took care of Adrien as much as he could.

He was also the only one to respect the restraining order - since he still worked for the Gabriel and Gabriel brand - when others believed it was just a means of scaring.

Marinette knew that the man was a good person, that he really liked Adrien and that he had been blaming himself for a while now, for what had happened.

"How's he doing?" Leon asked, his voice disproportionately small for such a large body.

Marinette smiled; the pasta dish forgotten in favor of the man.

“Getting better." She answered sincerely. “There are more good days than bad, there are words that we have to avoid at all costs because of the trigger, but Adrien is doing well. Therapy is helping a lot.”

Leon looked down, a shy smile on his face.

“Is he still going to school? I know how much he enjoyed having a normal life. Or as normal as possible.”

"Yes, mom and dad transferred him to the lycée that I'm attending with Chloe and Kagami." Marinette nodded. "Things at Dupont were inconceivable to him."

Leon looked at her again. “I'm glad he found people he could trust, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette snorted, amused. “Please, Leon. Just Marinette.” She stared at the man, holding his gaze. "He misses you, you know?"

Leon's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Don't be so surprised!" She laughed. "It is true. You were the only person he really felt close to in that place and who never hurt him.”

"Oh..." Leon looked away.

"You should come to dinner with us sometime." Marinette continued. "Now that you no longer work for Gabriel, there is no restraining order to stop you."

"I-"

"Not to mention that we need someone trained to help us when Adrien's fans and journalists get really aggressive." She said innocently before drinking water.

Leon froze in surprise, incredulous at what he heard. Until a sincere smile opened on the man's face.

"Okay."

"Yea?" Marinette asked hopefully.

"Yes."

Leon watched the tiny girl wave her arms happily, not caring about the amused looks and laughter she attracted.

Maybe it was a good start for him too.

#lukadrien #maribat #daminette #kagami x chloe x sabrina #ml salt #lila rossi salt #lila bashing #gabriel agreste salt #gabriel bashing #potentially triggering #miraculous ladybug

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