#used it a couple times. made my tongue go completely numb but worth it

[breedingboy-jay]

The fact that the last time I used my vibrating tongue piercing was in August is honestly depressing. Like hello? I have a perfectly good tongue and mouth that can be used? That's pierced and can be replaced with a little vibrator?? On top of having 10 perfectly usable fingers that past partners have called very strong??? And I'm currently NOT eating pussy like it's an olympic sport for some reason????? And my face STILL haven't been sat on yet?????? Wow.

And in the same vein, it's a shame I'm not sucking cock while having a piercing like that too. Granted, never given a blowjob before but I think having a miniature vibrator that I can run up and down the length of a cock or press directly to a cockhead or balls while I'm sucking them may outweigh any cons I have from my inexperience.

[scaramoucheslove]

PLEASE expand more on that Zhongli brat tamer thing you posted 🥺

Brat Tamer! Zhongli x Brat!Reader (GN)

Listen to me

What to expect: Spanking, Size kink?(a bit), Choking, Teasing in public, Getting called “whore” once I swear, Zhongli as ur god, fingering? lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: AAA BRAT TAMER ZHONGLI NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION </33

(also im so sorry if this is shit even tho i spent so much time writing it?? hurr i apologize and i tried to make it as gn as possible! <33)

Zhongli loves an obedient sub that listens to him and obey his rules. You, were the perfect little baby for him. You were his obedient, perfect little baby. Sure, you’ve been accidentally bad a couple times here and there. But imagine if someday, you were curious enough to see what’s it like to test his limit. So, when you were acting out of the ordinary, of course he’d be suspicious.

It all started when you both woke up. He’d always wake up first, usually drinking tea at the dinner table and you’d always greet him. But today, you felt a little braver than usual and decided to just ignore him and went ahead to the kitchen to grab your breakfast. He raised his brow, but thought nothing much of it. You put your plate on the table and played with your phone while eating your food.

Zhongli cleared his throat, causing you to look at him with a confused look on your face. “Good morning” he said with a smile, a fake one if I may add. You ignored him and continued to play your phone and eat your food. You could see his smile fade away in the corner of your eye. “I expect a response, no?” you looked at him, and his expression seems blank. “Uh, morning?” you answered blankly before continuing to ignore him. He sighs in defeat, standing up to prepare a hot shower to cool him off.

Zhongli said he’ll be meeting up with a few people for a while, and of course you being you, decided to tag along. You were confused on what to wear—until you remembered your little plan to push his buttons. You smirked at yourself before thinking. You had an idea. You put on the most revealing clothes you’ve ever worn out in public just to mess with him. Once you were done getting ready, he doesn’t say a single word. His gaze was enough to make a person tremble, thus why you were averting his eyes the whole time. He simply grabs your hands and wrapped it around his and said nothing more than a simple “Let’s go.”

You finally arrived at the Teahouse after quite some time. The moment you two opened the door, all eyes were on you. You looked absolutely stunning. Your looks may even be enough to tempt a god. Zhongli clearly tried to ignore the situation and dragged you to the back and seated you both at the corner of the Teahouse.

The meeting overall was boring. Although it was pretty boring, you had to admit that hearing people talking about Morax and acting as if they know more than Morax himself was kind of funny. You yawned in boredom and continued to look around before your eyes landed to your boyfriend’s figure that was sitting right beside you. His eyes that are completely focused, the way he talks, and the way his tall figure is sitting straight, asserting dominance through small, simple things. You couldn’t help but feel excited just by looking at him. Your excitement caused you to land your hand on your boyfriend’s thighs as he was listening to some people talking and discussing about the geo archon. He looked at you, confused and you gave him a small, sweet innocent smile, in which he returned.

But what he didn’t expect was for your hand to go higher and higher, until he realized that your hand was basically almost touching his dick. Before you could do anything further, he slapped your hand away and came closer to your ear to whisper, “Behave.” That action alone caused you to shiver and it tempted you even more. Biting your lower lip, you decided to wait for the right moment. After everyone was done talking and discussing, they asked for Zhongli’s opinion. And just right before he gets the chance to talk, you took the chance and managed to place your hand between his pants without raising any suspicions. He flinched slightly, earning worried looks from other people and workers. “My apologies, I thought I saw something.” He said as he kept his composure. And surprisingly enough, they believed him. Thank god you were seated in the corner so that no one could see what was actually happening between the two of you. You palmed him through his pants slowly as he explained about his opinion. You could hear the slight shake on his voice and clearing his throat way more than he normally does, even though he looked completely focused and well composed. “Mr. Zhongli? Are you feeling alright?” someone said in which he responded with a slight nod, and a pinch to your thighs as a warning. You gasped quietly in surprise and stopped your ministrations before looking at him. His stare was menacing, daring you to make another move. In which you responded by looking the other way and pouting as you rest your hands that was palming him a few seconds ago on the table.

The trip back home was silent. You didn’t dare utter a word, not after all that. You looked fine and chill on the outside, But inside? You were trembling. Was it really a good idea to make your god angry? Is it even worth it? Your thoughts were racing as you asked yourself. But there was no turning back.

You walked inside the house slowly, trying to keep calm and collected. You knew you were in deep trouble the moment he shuts the door with a slam. You saw a glimpse of his beautiful, black hair with a gradient, glowing, neon orange color near the ends of his hair, which usually occurred where he’s focused like in battles, or if he’s really pissed. You didn’t really want to test him any further, so you just decided to follow his next commands and obey him. “What has gotten into you?” He asked, voice demanding for an answer. You turned to him, looking to the ground instead while fiddling your hands. He clicked his tongue and forcefully held your chin so you were met with his amber colored eyes. “Talk” He demanded. You were unable to form coherent words and ended up stuttering on your words. He shakes his head in disapproval and practically dragged you into the bedroom.

He lets you go once you’ve both reached your shared bedroom. You watched as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, looking down and letting out a sigh. The moment his eyes met yours, you immediately looked down, not prepared for his eyes to pierce through you so sudden.

“Strip.” He said lowly. Calmly. But you knew him. It’s always the calm before the storm. You stood there, silently, not moving in the slightest. You could feel the tension in the room. He was disappointed. Of course he was! He had all the reasons to be. He walked towards you slowly, observing the outfit you wore. One of his gloved hand stroking it smoothly as his other hand gripped your jaw gently and made you look into his eyes. “Tsk, I have given you such a simple task. But I know you humans simply cannot do anything yourselves.” He practically spat as he tore your clothes off with both hands. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly opened and you froze due to shock as he chuckled at your reaction.

His two hands grabbed you by the shoulders and threw you onto the bed roughly, a contrast to his gentle grip on your jaw earlier. You continued to freeze in your place and he took the chance to pin both your hands with one of his, as his big and strong body kept your smaller one caged. You tried to get out of his grip. But it was no use. No matter how much you try, he will always overpower you.

“Tell me, love. Were you being a brat on purpose?” He asked you with a teasing tone on his voice. You closed your eyes and gave up, exhaling the breath you didn't notice you've been holding while nodding your head slowly in shame and embarrassment. He chuckled lowly as he lets both of your hand go and flipped you over. You yelped in surprise as he positioned himself so that your stomach was on his lap and he places his hand to rub gently on your ass.

You cried out, “Zhongli please I’m sorry-“ “Now, now. It’ll hurt a bit. But you mortals really need to be taught a lesson to know their place.” He says as one of his hand stroked your hair and the other continued to move gentle motions on your ass. “Zhongli pleas-“ Smack. A loud noise echoed across the room as you jolted forward and you felt your eyes beginning to water. “Can you just listen to me, brat?” his voice sounded clearly annoyed. The room was quiet for a while, until he broke the silence. “Stay silent and take it like the good pet I know you are.”

The sound of your cries and sniffles could be heard in the rather silent room. You were sobbing, hands starting to go numb as you gripped them onto the bedsheets, your ass sore and red from all the painful and harsh smacks Zhongli has delivered. You were trembling. It felt like hours since he started and it never seemed to end. He eventually stopped and started caressing the spots he had abused minutes before. “I’m sorry my love, but If I don’t do this then… you’ll never learn from your mistakes.” He explained. You were still sobbing, but a part of you was relieved that it was over.

He got you off his lap and laid you down carefully onto the bed as you finally closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down. That is until you feel a hand tracing your back and onto your underwear. You felt him come closer as he whispered in your ear “Seems like someone got excited. Well, it isn’t really a punishment if you enjoyed it. Don’t you agree?” you can feel his hot breath fanning your ear.

He flipped you over, your back now facing the bed. You hissed slightly at the sting because your ass still hurts from his ministrations. He gently spread both of your legs apart as he sat himself in between your now-parted thighs and pulled your underwear down, in which he threw across the room. You tried to cover yourself up but again, it was no use. You were now exposed for him and his eyes to devour. “But I’ll have to admit, seeing you in that revealing outfit where everyone can see really makes me…” he paused as he searched for the right word before continuing. “Jealous.” You prayed to the archons to make it out alive before answering him. “Oh? M-maybe you’re just mad they can probably fuck me better than you.” You’ve done it. You took back what you said about obeying him, but at the wrong time. “Getting brave now, are we? How ironic for someone who cried over a punishment moments ago.” he bitterly chuckles. “Well then, we’ll just have to see how hard I’ll break you tonight.”

He took off his gloves and immediately gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, combining it with the drool he managed to get at the corners of your mouth. He wastes no time as he inserts one finger into your needy hole. You gasped and held onto the bedsheets once more, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. God, his fingers were long. You can feel him filling you up as he kept pistoning one finger in and out of you. But then you started to whine for more. For him to fill you up more. “Humans are indeed greedy, but you’re my greedy little human, aren’t you whore?” you scrambled over your words before he used his free hand to wrap it around your throat and tightening his hold around it. “Answer.” He stopped moving completely and you whined as you finally managed to answer. “Y-yes!” “Yes what?” “Yes, my lord.”

[loving-all-for-loki]

Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

-

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

[aslitheryprinx]

Hello! Here is my mcyt g/t exchange piece for @blurrybunnie!

The prompt I decided to use was:

"cold nights are the best time for cuddles, but can it really be called cuddles when the giant is unaware of the tiny stealing their warmth?"

This was a really fun one to write, so I hope you enjoy! :D

Lonely Nights

-----------

Tommy clutched his ragged blanket around his shoulders, shivering violently. Winters had always been rough on the teen ever since he was shrunk by a vengeful witch as a child.

He'd been too terrified to be around people since the incident, knowing how easy it would be for one stray step or one cruel person to kill him. That meant living in the woods with what little supplies he could scavenge.

The blanket was made from the torn fabric of someone's discarded clothes he'd taken years ago. It had gotten him through many winters, but barely, and the years had made it thin and worn. This was possibly the worse winter he'd ever seen, as well, and as the night got colder, he was scared he wouldn't see the dawn.

Just as the cold was starting to make his body numb and heavy, the faint scent of smoke drifted past him. It didn't register for a couple of seconds. Then he was suddenly alert, adrenaline flooding his system.

Smoke meant fire. Fire meant his chance to survive the rest of the night.

Fire also meant people. Tommy felt anxiety curling in his stomach when he realized he'd need to get up close to someone, maybe the closest he'd been since he was shrunk. But it was worth the risk for the promise of warmth.

He sprinted through the woods, pushing past the blades of grass that stood in his way. He tripped over a twig, stumbling for a second before he recovered.

The running warmed him up slightly, but he was still shivering uncontrollably, teeth knocking against each other so hard he bit his tongue a couple of times.

When he saw a warm glow, he slowed. He stopped just before the clearing of dirt where the fire had been built, not wanting to leave the cover of the grass just yet.

His heart thudded far too loudly in his ears as he scanned, looking for the person or people who had made the fire. He wilted in relief when he realized there was only one man, curled up fast asleep on the other side of the fire.

He was still nervous at the possibility of the man waking up and seeing him, but the draw of the heat he could already feel from the fire was too strong. He walked forwards like a moth drawn to a flame.

The fire was old, more softly glowing embers than actual flames. He was able to go right up next to the fire. The warmth sank into his bones, and he sighed in relief. He sat down and curled up. Soon his eyes were drooping. He was close to drifting off, when a new shiver wracked his body.

He sat up quickly, alarm spiking. Another wave of chills hit him and he turned towards the fire. It had completely burnt out, and there was only a sliver of warmth coming from the smoldering wood now.

A gust of wind blew through the clearing, stealing all the warmth he'd gained from his short time by the fire. His eyes burned, though there was no smoke to sting his eyes.

He was going to freeze out here. He had no way to reignite the fire, and the man wouldn't be lighting it again anytime soon, he was fast asleep.

...The man was asleep.

A dangerous idea was forming in Tommy's mind. The fire was gone. If Tommy wanted to keep from freezing, there was only one source of warmth left: the sleeping person on the other side of the campsite.

The idea of it made Tommy's stomach churn with anxiety. But there really wasn't another option. It was either cuddle up to the giant person or freeze to death. A lump in his throat, he started walking around the burnt out fire, towards the sleeping figure.

He dragged his feet as he walked, stalling a little. While he walked, he took in the man's appearance. He hadn't paid much attention earlier, just glancing to make sure he was asleep. Now, he took in the man's features, wrapping his arms around himself as he realized just how massive he was in comparison.

The man was curled up in a sleeping roll. He might as well have been a mountain to Tommy. His hair was brown, but he couldn't tell what shade it was in the darkness. Tommy teen couldn't see what he was wearing, aside from the yellow sleeve of the man's sweater where his arm poked out. He slept with one arm curled in front of his face.

The last thing the shrunken teen wanted to do was get next to the man's face, and risk being seen. But the only exposed skin of the man was up by his face. There was no warmth coming from the safer options like the sleeping man's legs, he found out as he reached the area he guessed to be his knee.

Tommy just had to suck it up… and keep walking. Past the legs. Past the man's chest that rose up at least twice Tommy's height. He reached the elbow and his resolve wavered. The man was just so big. Just his elbow came all the way up to Tommy's waist.

But Tommy could feel the heat radiating from him already. Despite his fear, his shivering was too much, and he leaned against the arm. The warmth was intoxicating, and Tommy was climbing over the elbow, moving towards an even warmer spot before he knew what he was doing.

His heart was pounding with fear at the sight of the man's face. Every feature seemed impossibly large, and it just drove home how tiny and helpless Tommy had been for years now. But he pressed on, desperate to stop the shivering.

He crept closer and closer, feeling the warmth draw him in. As he walked, he could hear the whoosh of his lungs as he breathed. The noise was startling at first, far louder than it should be, but after a few moments, the steady sound became kind of relaxing.

Tommy found himself automatically matching the breathing of the sleeping man. His heart slowed down to a reasonable pace, and being this close to the massive person wasn't quite as intimidating. He could do this.

He passed the man's chest, feeling very envious of the warm looking sweater, and went straight towards the exposed skin of his neck.

Tommy set a hesitant hand against the neck, and instantly a wave of warmth was washing over him. He was pressed up against the man's neck, curling as close as he could before he could even think. His shivers slowly died down as the heat seeped into his core.

The relief from the cold made his mind slow to a crawl. He sat down, leaning heavily against the warm skin. He shouldn't fall asleep here, it was dangerous. But the warmth was making him sleepy, and his eyes started to droop.

Suddenly, there was motion in front of him and his eyes flew all the way open. He saw a hand twice his size coming towards him. There was barely a second to react. He looked around wildly, but there was no place to run to.

The hand brushed against him and he froze. It closed around him, and Tommy struggled, trying to escape. The grip was too tight, and he was terrified he'd been discovered. But the man was still breathing deeply, eyes shut. He'd moved in his sleep.

Tommy clawed at the hand, but he couldn't budge it. Eventually, he exhausted himself and laid back limply. The hand was radiating blissful heat, and he wanted so badly to just relax into it and sleep.

In addition to the warmth, each place where the massive person's hand brushed against his skin felt like the nerves were set alight. He hadn't been around another person in so long… since he was shrunk… when was the last time anyone touched him?

Against his better judgement, he curled into the contact. He was just so tired. Surely it would be ok if he just took a short nap? He could wake up early, and escape before the man woke up.

It only took another minute of the steady heartbeat, the delicious warmth, and the even breathing to lull him completely to sleep. He went limp in the firm but gentle hold, curling closer while he slept.

In the morning, a much more stressed Tommy would have to deal with a very curious, very large person who wasn't inclined to let him just run off.

But for right now? Tommy slept without a care, feeling more peaceful than he had in many years.

[rhubarberpie]

Me, Just Me

ao3 || m.list || prologue

-_-_-_-

Marinette took in the silence, trying to ignore the crippling fear that threatened to choke her. It was as if she was stuck in a small, enclosed box, rather than the apartment's dining room, trying to open up to her parents. She had faced monsters double her size, jumped into the mouth of a dinosaur, and yet this was the most frightening thing of them all, waiting for her parents to respond, finally seeing behind her carefully crafted front.

It was her mother, ever patient and loving, that broke the silence first. “For how long has this been going on?” Sabine asked, and Marinette could tell that she was trying to be encouraging, placing her hand on top of Marinette’s, smile gentle and motherly, despite her tense shoulders and edge to her voice.

Marinette swallowed, her tongue heavy like lead. Regret tried to claw its way up her throat, tried to make her laugh and brush it all off, white noise ringing in her ears.

“…A couple of  months.” The words left her quietly, and she slumped with no strength to look at her parents.

In a short, almost non-existent moment, the world stilled. 

Months had passed of Marinette feeling alienated and ostracized, of her feeling completely alone and like she couldn’t go to her parents to talk about her problems.

And almost as soon as the world had stopped, it had started again, as Tom stood from his chair and enveloped his little girl in a tight hug, lifting her from her seat. Marinette wondered if it was to comfort her or himself.

“You won’t stay there,” Sabine said, as soon as Tom had let go of Marinette and sat back down. “We’ll find you a new school and you won’t ever have to step into that place again.” Marinette’s eyes locked with her mother’s, and all she could see was burning determination, the same determination as Marinette would have burning in her eyes as she fought against an akuma.

It was like the weight that had been pressing down on her chest had finally been lifted, leaving her with calming numbness that was reminded of every time she took a deep breath in. Her steps were light as she walked to school next week, 

It was like the weight that had been pressing down on Marinette’s chest, making it hard for her to breathe whenever she was with her parents, had been lifted, leaving her with a calming numbness that she was reminded of every time she took a deep breath in. Her steps were light as she returned to school the next week, and for once Marinette looked at the situation from an outside perspective and forgave herself for everything that she couldn’t do, because she had done what she could.

Still, there was something Marinette felt that she needed to do.

Her eyes hopped from classmate to classmate, until they landed on her, well, former friends. Alya was looking at her phone under the desk, with Mme. Bustier none the wiser to the girl, and Nino was trying (and failing) to understand what Mme. Bustier was saying. Marinette bit her lip, forcing her eyes down onto her tablet.

She would have to pick some new holders. Marinette knew that the distrust she now held towards them would be detrimental in a battle, and with their belief in what Lila says to be as strong as it is, Marinette wasn’t sure if they wouldn’t end up saying something they shouldn’t, especially with Lila’s penchant for becoming akumatized.

It was a conversation that Marinette would have to have with Master Fu later, but for now, she would settle for watching the lives of the people around her pass her by.

-------

There was always a sense of calm and peace that entered Marinette whenever she would go to Master Fu’s sanctuary. She supposed that it made sense, but the cup of green tea nestled in her hands might have helped with that too.

“So, what is it you wish to discuss with me?” Master Fu asked.

Marinette hesitated. She could never quite read what Master Fu was thinking, and now, when all she wanted was his approval, the fear that he might disagree with her choice hung heavy on her shoulders.

“Master Fu, what- what would you do if people were being used,  and you warn them about it, but they won’t listen to you? If they turn against you and hurt you, because they think you’re wrong.” Marinette asked. “…would you stay and continue trying to help them, or would you remove yourself from the situation?”

Master Fu hummed in thought, Wayzz looking worriedly between his holder and Marinette.

“Selflessness versus selfishness. In an ideal world, the choice of being selfless would be best, but…” Master Fu looked at Marinette, her tense posture, her fiddling with her teacup. “It can burn you out, and if you hold a great responsibility, that could be dangerous. We are not meant to only think about others, but ourselves too.”

Marinette let out a sigh, visibly relaxing, and took a sip of her tea.

“May I ask what brought on the question?” Master Fu looked at her patiently as she started to fiddle with her cup once more.

“I’m transferring to a new school… or that’s the goal at least.” Marinette looked down at her tea, seeing her reflection mirrored back at her. “Things haven’t really been going well and I… I’m just really unhappy, and frustrated and-” She let out an agitated sigh. “I was almost akumatized, and I don’t want to risk it by being at a place with people that make me feel miserable.”

Master Fu and Wayzz shared a worried glance at the girl’s explanation. She was right, the risk of her becoming akumatized was not worth it in the situation.

“Then I believe you have made the right decision on the matter.” Master Fu said.

“Surely you aren’t alone.” Wayzz said, and Marinette knew that he was thinking about Nino.

“I’m not entirely sure…” She admitted. “There’s someone in my class who’s… aware of what’s happening, but I don’t think he knows the full extent of it.”

“Have you talked to him about it?” Master Fu asked.

“He believes that we shouldn’t do anything, let the situation solve itself but… it’s been months and it’s only getting worse.” Master Fu nodded in understanding.

“That brings another issue though.” Marinette said, her eyes narrowed, calculating. “Rena Rouge and Carapace, I don’t think I can trust them in battle again.”

Master Fu hummed.

“I trust your decision, and if you believe that Rena Rouge and Carapace are unfit or untrustworthy, then we must find others to wield the Miraculous when the situation arises.”

Wayzz looked saddened by the information, and Marinette felt a little bad about it, but she knew that she couldn’t fight beside Alya and Nino again.

“Would it be possible for us to meditate more regularly as well?” Marinette asked. “I don’t know how long it will take for me to find a new school to attend, and while I’m calmer about the situation now, I’d like to have a few techniques, just in case…”

“Of course.” Master Fu said.  “That would probably be for the best. Come by every Wednesday and we can work on your meditation.”

After that, the invisible weight Marinette had been carrying felt a little lighter, if not just slightly.

-----------

When Marinette came home, she looked at her room in thought. The place was filled with memories, pictures of her and Alya, the class, Kitty Section. So many, and in all of them Marinette looked to be smiling. Now the pictures left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Exhaling, she walked up to one of her walls and started taking down the pictures, one by one, all over her room. Nothing was spared, no note or scrap of paper that even slightly reminded her of why she was so sad to begin with.

Once her walls were cleared, she changed her wallpaper on her computer. When she was completely done, there was nothing to remind her of her classmates, nothing but the memories within the walls. It felt nice.

Opening a drawer, Marinette took out a notebook that she had yet to use and a pen. She climbed up and out onto her balcony, taking a deep breath as the wind caressed her features. Tikki followed her holder quietly, giving Marinette some space.

Marinette sat down on her chair and looked out at the city as the sun was setting. Paris truly was quite a sight. She opened her notebook, the pen hovering over the pages for a moment, and after a shaky exhale, Marinette finally put pen to paper.

Word after word, Marinette started to feel lighter, addressing every single classmate, some letters only being half a page, and others, Marinette felt, went on page, after page, after page.

By the end of it, almost all of the notebook was full, and the sun had completely set.

“Do you think I made the right choice, Tikki?” Marinette’s voice cut through the quiet.

“I think you deserve as much happiness as everyone else Marinette, and if you have to change schools for that, then I think that’s the best decision you could make.” Tikki replied.

“Thank you, Tikki.” Marinette kissed her Kwami’s cheek before climbing back inside her room.

She still had so much to do before she could leave.

-_-_-_-

@pawsitivelymiraculous @trippingovermyfeet @all-mights-asscheeks @justafanwarrior 

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: You like it rough and thankfully, he shares that passion.

Warnings: Smut, Dirty Talk, Gun kink, Unprotected Sex

Available on: AO3

A/N: You asked for it, you’re getting it. Straight up PWP because we all know JJ has a gun kink. Enjoy!

“I’ll kill him!” JJ yelled when he ran inside his house while you were following him with the hope to calm him down.

“You’re overreacting. He’s just a douche, forget about him,” you tried to argue but you already knew that he wouldn’t listen. He was in one of his dangerous states right now.

Jaw clenched, hands balled into a fist, angry steps and stormy eyes. He was mad. More than mad.

The two of you had been together for a while now, still keeping it a secret from your friends and especially your family. Your parents were Kooks and they wouldn’t approve. Not that you would give a single fuck about their opinion. You were in love with this angry boy in front of you and nothing would be able to tear you apart.

“How am I supposed to forget about him when I know he touched you, (y/n)?!” he yelled at you while rummaging through his things, apparently looking for something.

You had told him that Rafe had felt you up earlier, it had been an act to keep your parents please but apparently JJ was missing that part. It had felt wrong to keep it a secret so you told him. You told him everything, lying to your friends was bad enough.

“It’s partly my fault for letting him. Nothing to get so worked up over,” you replied and sighed, feeling how you got slowly mad at him for overreacting so much.

Yes, Rafe was a douche and not worth a single second of your time but flirting with him would get your family higher up in the invisible ranks of the Kook world. So you did what you had to but in the end of the day, you’d be back in JJ’s arms.

“God, don’t say that.” The deep growl that came out of this throat made you rub your legs together and you swallowed when you saw him coming towards you with the gun in his hand.

His whole body was so tense and his breathing was heavy. You didn’t doubt for a second that he would be able to shoot someone in the face while he was this angry.

“I’ll fucking kill him. No one touches my girl!”  he growled but you stepped in his way, crossing the arms over your chest and blocking his way.

He raised a confused eyebrow at you and you saw how he swallowed hard, taking all his willpower to not leash out on you too.

“Let me through, for fucks sake. I’m just trying to help you here!” He seemed to think you wouldn’t understand but you did. You understood him well enough which was exactly why you wouldn’t let him through here.

An idea sparked in your head and a smirk appeared on your lips which confused him.

“If you want to pass by you have to make me,” you said, the tone of your voice absolutely challenging.

He frowned and groaned. “(y/n), please,” he asked in frustration and waved his gun around in front of you.

You grabbed his wrist and turned it so the gun was held against your head. Your free hand reached out to grab the bulge between his legs.

“I can think of way better things for this to use, you know,” you purred and took a step forward, lowering your hand which held his wrist so the gun was pointing between your legs. “Unless you’re afraid, of course.”

A chuckle left your throat when you saw those stormy eyes turn from anger to lust and within a second, he was kissing you so hard he almost punched the air out of your lungs with it.

JJ wouldn’t hurt you and if you were honest, your mind had been going to this place for a while now. There was just something about him and the gun that made your legs weak and your pussy drip. Maybe it was the danger in it, maybe it was the kick of adrenaline, you didn’t really now. You only knew you wanted this.

His body weight pressed you against the next wall and you groaned a little at the pain rushing through your back. He used this moment to push his tongue inside your mouth. At this point, you let go of his wrist to throw both arms behind his neck, pulling him even closer but the arm between you still prevented you from almost merging in the heat.

JJ moved his hand a little and slowly started rubbing you between your legs with the gun. You swallowed when it made contact with the fabric where your clit would be.

“You like that, huh?” he asked when he pulled back briefly to look into your eyes. Your cheeks were wearing a blush and your panties were probably already ruined from just a little touch. He had this effect on you, it was hard to keep calm with him around, especially when his voice had this edge and his eyes told you he would be able to fuck you numb at any second now.

What could you say? You loved it rough and maybe he wasn’t the only one with a gun kink here.

“Answer me,” he said and pressed the tip of the gun more forcefully against your clit which made you yelp.

“Yes, I love it,” you moaned and he grinned at you, apparently enjoying you’re sharing his interests..

“Good girl,” he mumbled and kissed you again, starting to rub the gun in slow circles over the fabric.

You were already so heated and this was only the beginning of the dangerous game you were playing with him. The anger he had still inside of him was only fueling the fire more. Thank god for this unholy opportunity.

“Suck my dick,” he whispered against your lips and you nodded. He pulled his hand away from between your legs and you sank down in front of him, eyes on him while he lifted the gun to look at it. 

“Holy shit, that’s hot.” A dark chuckle left his throat while turning the gun before holding it to your temple. It wasn’t cold anymore but the idea of it ran a shiver down your spine anyway.

The look he had in his eyes was something you couldn’t describe and he just smirked while you were opening his pants, pulling them down together with his boxer shorts. 

He was already hard in front of you and you gladly took him inside, the muzzle of the gun pressed against your skin giving you the extra kick, one he seemed to get too. JJ threw his head back when you swallowed him whole, nose pressing against his lower half for a moment before pulling back, coughing a little.

You only took him in completely when you were really aroused, mostly later in the blowjob but now you did it right at the start. Looking in his eyes while your own were watering a little showed you that he knew what it meant. Bastard.

His length was growing even more inside of you. His free hand wandered in your hair, playing a bit with it, urging you gently to suck him faster.

Your tongue moved around his head of his length and you had to use one of your hands to cover everything, pumping and sucking at the same time.

“Fuck that’s good,” he moaned and swallowed hard, looking down at you to take in the scene completely. The gun, you at his mercy, sucking his cock like there was no tomorrow. You took him in deep again which made him close his eyes in a loud moan.

Meanwhile your cunt was quivering in need of attention, at least to get the fabric out of the way. Raw desire was clawing inside of you, simply wanting to get the sweet release, at least a little friction.

Your other hand moved between your legs and opened the button of your pants, moving one hand inside. The panties were ruined for sure, you could already feel the wetness lingering there. You were able to flick over your clit a couple of times when you heard a click.

You swallowed hard and looked up at him, eyes now on you with a sneer on his face.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” The growl only turned you on more but you took your hand out of your pants and shook your head, mouth not leaving his cock. “Then don’t do it.”

You nodded and kept sucking him but he made a sound of disapprovement briefly after.

“To the bed,” he commanded and you got up. “Wait there for me, naked.”

A small chuckle left your mouth when he slapped your ass while you made your way to his bedroom. You threw your top and bra away on the way there, wiggling out of the pants and ruined panties in front of the bed.

It took him a moment to join you and you weren’t sure what he had done during that time, maybe taking a moment so he wouldn’t directly explode? He was undressed now too, gun still in his hand.

“Such a beautiful sight,” he mumbled as he came over to look at how you were positioned on his bed, everything about your body telling him that you wanted him. “An such an obedient slut.” 

You swallowed hard at those words. He didn’t use them often but when he did your whole body was screaming in lust. You loved dirty talk and he had just the perfect voice for this. Sometimes he called you good girl while you were with your friends, when it fit the occasion, knowing exactly what that would to do you.

JJ came over to you and joined you on the bed, kneeling above you. He lowered the gun to your face and smirked, running it over your forehead, your nose to your mouth, tapping it against your lips a few times.

He then moved to your bare chest, pressing the muzzle on top of your left nipple and then running it in circles around the firm skin of your breast a couple of times before repeating the process on the right one. He then moved the gun down your stomach and even further.

You knew exactly where this was going and it made your pussy drip even more in excitement. You laid still, not daring to say a word.

When the steel pressed against your clit you moaned, almost cumming on the spot from the feeling of it.

“You are so. dirty.” JJ laughed at you and shook his head in fake disbelief but you could see how excited he was from the way his body was shivering. The blonde starting to move the gun slowly, pleasuring you with the steel that was supposed to kill, not bring pleasure and yet, here you were, enjoying this more than you should.

So did he as you could catch a glimpse of the precum glistening on his hard cock that was just waiting to be inside of you.

He moved the barrel against your clit in such a slow movement that was driving you insane.

“More, please,” you begged and he chuckled, moving the gun a little lower to your entrance, pressing against it a little bit.

Your eyes went wide when you could feel your wet lower lips closing around the tip of the gun, just a little bit. Not deep, not painful but enough to make you fall over the edge on the spot.

“Holy shit, you just came from that!” he said with a grin on his lips, eyes so wide and dark while looking up at you. He obviously didn’t expect this to happen and neither did you if you were honest. There was just something about that cold steel pressing inside of you, even if it wasn’t much, that made you explode with lust.

He moved a little so he could lean down and kiss you. “I love you so much, my dirty girl,” he mumbled against your lips and you smiled into the kiss, an unspoken ‘I love you too’ as you were pretty sure you wouldn’t get a single word out right now.

Asshole that he was, he didn’t give you much time to recover. During the kiss he already started to tease your clit with the gun once more before pulling back, kneeling again. He lifted the gun to look at it and you could see it glistening in the sun, the tip covered in your wetness.

The blush on your cheeks was nothing you could hide anymore but he liked it, so there was no need for it anyway.

He moved the gun to your face again, tapping against your lips with the muzzle that was coated in your wetness.

“Suck it like you would suck my cock, baby”, he demanded and you swallowed before opening your mouth.

JJ pressed the gun inside your mouth and you could taste yourself on it. You started to suck on it slowly, imagining his cock and never looking away from his eyes.

“Use your tongue.” You started to move your tongue around the tip of the gun, licking every last drop of your own wetness from it.

His hand had moved between your legs, playing and pinching your clit and you moaned around the gun. He used that moment to push it in just a little deeper, always careful not to hurt you but still in a dominant way.

It was a weird feeling to do this, it was so different from anything else you had done and yet, you couldn’t stop the heat building up inside of you again, especially when he played you like an instrument down there.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he said and licked his lips, pressing two fingers inside of you. He then started to move the gun, moving it inside and outside your mouth slowly, watching how your lips glided over it over and over again. His fingers mirrored the movement of the gun in your mouth.

“Ride me,” he suddenly demanded and pulled his fingers out of your cunt and the gun out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath as you had been so close to your next orgasm and you threw him a glare at which he just chuckled, knowing exactly what he had done.

He positioned himself on the bed and you licked your lip at the sight. “Hurry up and show me what a good ride is,” he said with a wink and you smirked while climbing on top of him, almost impaling yourself on his length but he stopped you right when you could feel the tip of his dick touching your folds just slightly.

“You have to use it,” he requested and you raised an eyebrow at him when he held the gun out to you.

“What do you mean?” you asked him and he looked at you with a wolfish grin on his lips, leaning upwards a little, supporting himself on his arms for a moment.

“I want you to hold it under your chin,” he explained and put the gun in your hand before tapping a spot of skin under your chin with his fingers. “Don’t pull the trigger by accident,” he added with a wink and for a moment you were absolutely gobsmacked.

A moment that passed fast enough when he grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock, a scream of surprise and pleasure leaving your throat.  He leaned back on the bed and enjoyed the view he got.

“Fucking bastard,” you breathed out and he chuckled.

“What was that?” he asked in a daring tone and you just shook your head. “The gun, baby.”

He nodded at it in your hand and you reluctantly held it to the soft skin under your chin. One wrong movement and you would shoot straight through your mouth up to your brain.

You swallowed hard when he started to move slowly inside of you, dragging his thrusts out. The lust in his darkened eyes told you how much he loved this and it must be a nice view for him.

Naked on top of him, impaled on his cock, breasts swinging with the movement and the gun pressed against yourself, both hands wrapped around the grip. Maybe it looked a little like you would be praying right now.

Any thought of worry vanished when he slapped your ass. You started to move your hips on top of him, riding him like he wanted.

The grip on your hips grew tighter and you knew he loved it. It probably took him quite the willpower to not thrust into you without mercy. You moved your hips faster, circling it on top of it, always careful not to slip the gun.

“Shit baby, you’re so beautiful when you do it like that,” he moaned and his cock twitched inside of you. “Tell me where you belong.”

“I belong to you, on your cock, just like this,” you said without thinking, dragging the next movement out. “I’m your dirty girl.”

He growled at those words and gripped your hips even tighter, not holding back anymore now. His own hips snapped up rapidly, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, hitting the sweet spot with every movement.

You moaned loudly and your thoughts were clouded with lust and pleasure, only focused on the things he made you feel but always aware of the steel pressed against your skin.

A whimper left your mouth as you felt yourself getting close and his movement was also getting more erratic and less controlled, he couldn’t be far away from orgasm either.

It took two more thrusts at this punishing pace and you screamed out your orgasm, the pleasure exploding inside of you with full force. Your vision blurred, your legs got weak and your fingers squeezed the trigger just a little bit.

Your breathing hitched in terror and fear for a moment but you stopped yourself from actually pulling it.

The blonde under you kept slamming inside of you at the same pace that brought you to come until his fingernails dug into your skin and he held your body pressed closely against his while you felt him painting your inner walls with hot cum.

You both breathed hard for a moment and you still didn’t dare to move the gun away. His eyes were closed and you watched him briefly before closing your own eyes.

JJ leaned up towards you then and took the gun carefully out of your hands, placing it on his nightstand, then wrapping his arms around you and pulling you down on his chest.

“You were amazing,” he mumbled and pressed a kiss to your temple.

You felt how his cock slipped out of you at the different position, some of his semen following after, dripping down your legs.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you chuckled against his sweaty skin and he laughed.

“Is this always gonna happen when I want to kill someone now? Because I might want to go on a killing spree.” He laughed and you could feel the rumble in his chest.

You looked up at him with a grin on your lips and winked. 

“Maybe? I guess you have to find out.”

[gatheringofdawn]

Akumatized!Adrien Agreste x Reader: “In the Name of Justice and Love”

(Non-canon Miraculous Ladybug & Miraculous Ladybug AU: Akumatized victims can stay akumatized for days or weeks and their activity is darker than what the show shows—also in special circumstances, a close loved one to the akuma victim can gain powers to counter the akuma’s/Hawkmoth’s powers.)

[This is only a work of fiction and not to be taken as non-fiction]

“Saturday night. You. Me. And an oversized bucket of buttered popcorn,” Adrian finished up your idea on what the two of you were going to do after school. “There’s a new film from oversees. American. Heard the reviews were mostly near 100 percent in the worth it category.”

“Black Panther?” you asked, remembering the French trailer that played on multiple YouTube videos as ads.

“Exacta-mundo!” Adrian smiled.

“Is it in English or French?”

“Can’t say. We can always wait for the English adaption to come out. I can wait.” Knowing that you preferred watching movies in your native-born tongue, Adrian added, “I heard there’s some other movies preceding it. Wanna check ‘em out?”

You shook your head. “Do you wanna see it?”

Adrian rubbed the back of his head and smiled meekly, blocking out the dozens of times he watched the trailers and might have fantasized a couple of fantasies of Black Panther meeting Chat Noir, being the test subject of Shuri’s experiments for an upgraded suit...

“Well, I’d be a lion if I didn’t.” Did he let that slip out?

You blinked multiple times. “Nice try.”

Adrien chuckled.

“Then yeah, lets go see it,” you bumped his shoulder with yours. “It’d be nice to see something from home, and it’d be nice to show you what it’s like there.”

Adrien nodded. “See you Saturday night. 8pm. Out in front.”

You agreed, then both you and your friend parted ways, back to your houses.

***

Mud. Grime. Stale old popcorn and sticky soda spills splattered everywhere on your back, in your hair, on the back of your neck......

.......................sweat stains, rancid-smelling drool sticky on your cheeks and swollen lips. White and clear male bodily fluids falling from trembling thighs. The memory echoes of sensations long gone but ghosting over your paralyzed body. A male. Pale, sickly, sweaty, cursing, deep nasally voice, tall. A brown beard scratching up and down your neck and cheeks. Thin, slender, and physically strong from one hand holding down your mouth from screaming and the other violently, violently stimulating himself on you by whatever means got him off...

—You explained over and over to the police officers. Their faces were grim, asking for your parents phone numbers. You told them of your foreign exchange program in return for leaving their abusive home. There was no one of bloodline to call for help.

Around the fifth or seventh time you repeated the violent rape and violent rapist, did you notice Adrien standing there. Right in front of you with wide eyes.

Words scrambled out of his mouth and towards you. And you scrambled them back to him. A mess of blurry, fuzzy scrambles.

Alya and Nino were conveniently there. And watched after you the moment Adrian pushed a police officer into his car with surprising strength. Other officers physically restrained Adrien, yelled at him warnings and more scrambles to your ears.

He fiested himself out of the officers’ grip and tasked Alya and Nino with the duty of watching over you the moment he spotted the familiar black butterfly fluttering in his direction.

To you or him? He backed out of the scene, and the butterfly followed him. You watched him leave the scene altogether.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry this happened to you...” the whispered utterings, so frail, so soft crept into your ears, like warm milk on the tongue. Adrien held your hand with frailty. His forehead against the hospital bedside.

Your own consciousness dripped in and out of his mutterings. But it was darkness when he was there, and morning when he was gone.

No trial.

The very next day, in the morning, what lay at your doorstep was the mangled dead body of the rapist. Mangled and maimed, almost recognizable save for that rancid scent of his doused in overpriced cologne... mixed with the heavy scent of his blood.

All your emotions numbed out. The shock from last night carried over to the morning, numbing out your response. Alya, who stayed the night as a comfort support, yelped in shock for you and immediately began dialing 1-1-4.

You kicked the body, making certain of its permanent state then closed the door. You whispered faintly to Alya how you would be in your room, going back to sleep (forget school today). With the most friendliest you’ve ever experienced, Alya was accepting of your need and closed the door to your room behind you.

Two pills of sleep aid would knock you out. And so, you slipped into a deep, lukewarm sleep again. Heavy, heavy nerves as weightless as feathers....

***

The scratching at your door led you to wake up at... noon. The sleep aid carried over a handful of heaviness to your weight and starvation, but you opened the door anyways to find Adrian crouched like that of a cat and looking up at you.

...you thought you’d seen the black butterfly that causes akumatizatuions last night.

Adrian smiled up at you. Appearing averagely himself, save for his eyes. Like a hybrid of feline and human. Round, green orbs with giant black irises within them, made him look excited to see you.

“Did you like my gift?”

Instead of answering, you backed against the doorway and slid to the floor. Adrian cautiously approached you on all fours, as best he could with a human body.

“I...I heard that, males like me, after an attack like this...” he said very clearly, eyes downcast. “I can leave if you want. If that’ll make you more comfortable.”

***

On the news was the last remaining body camera video of the rapist’s last moments.

“In case you’re wondering, I took the videos he made of you. Everything in his apartment too like the computer in case... well... I burned everything else in there.”

And in that video was his torturer. A large male in all-black, fighting and fighting ferociously and more violent than soldiers in the trenches, than mercenaries on the hunt, than boxers would ever hope to reach for in the ring. Glowing green feline eyes, howls and yowls of that of a lynx.

The news accused an overzealous Black Panther fan of going too far.

“Well, a fan, yeah! What could be a better match up in partnership than Black Panther and Chat Noir, milady?” He scooted up from your lap and pressed the side of his head against your chest, and purred. He hummed in pleasantry, the soothing coo of his purrs softening. “For you, to protect you—that guy had it coming.”

Your answer fell soft on your lips. Words you tried to form but to no avail. The depths of your hiding heart knew the answer and if only Adrien could hear it echo.

And he returned his eyes to the television, resuming his comfortable cat position in your lap. You held his hand, squeezing affectionately.

***

Over the weeks, Adrian eventually stopped coming to school. You met him and found his appearance has yet changed again.

He spoke from the shadows that coated so well with him they could’ve been him, and he would’ve been everywhere under this bridge in the dark of the night. “I’ve gotten rid of a few more. For all women, men... children... for you.”

You shook your head. No longer were you in the daze of trauma. An accusing voice shouted that you should’ve stopped him that very day this all started.

“The rapists and white supremacists, two of them are hanging from the US Embassy’s flagpole. God bless America. Home of the brave enough to corrupt justice and land of free to oppress.” His outline in the shadows, you could see him on all fours, slithering closer to you in a manner paralleling a lioness on the hunt. “The rest are spelled out clear as modern truth on their pavement. Starting with the first American rapist that terrorized you—“

A vibrant and loudly attentive purr elicited from Adrien. “My friend~”

A shiver ran up your spine. His glowing green feline eyes showed complete delight towards you.

How could you have stopped him? What could you have said to the akumatized feline-Adrien in those moments? Dazed in trauma, depersonalize to reality and even your own sense of self. Then, you’ll just have to say it now as Adrien stood much taller, much bulkier, much more alive right in front of you, with his clawed fingers resting underneath your chin to lift it up.

Small simmers of memories between the two of you, hiding on the roof at school during lunch, from Nino, Alya, and Marionette, reading to each other whatever either of you had on hand and by the flip of a coin: Adrien’s fashion magazine, your “Spirited Away” graphic novel, Adrien’s “The Boy and the Beast” graphic novel, Adrien’s “The Wind Rises”, your “The Raven”, Adrien’s “Sherlock Holmes”...

Adrien chuckled, a soupy mix of harsh purr and his own lighthearted chuckles. “Around 36 Americans criminals have already been rounded up in less than three days.” His neck cracked, revealing a thin layer of a black pelt under his obsidian bodysuit. “And I haven’t even moved on to Purr~risians yet~”

“Adrien, that’s the Akuma talking, not you.”

“I let Hawkmoth akumatize me, ______, and it was all for you.” He cranes his neck and spine down, leveling eye to eye with you. The gesture would’ve been normally sweetly teasing, friendly, if not for the malice and stench of blood perforating from Adrien like cologne. Heavy in his messy, unkempt black hair where matted pieces held together by brown-crust. Stained red in his whitened-yellowing sharper teeth. And his eyes danced with delight, but all you could see was potential betrayal. “Seeing what that putrid, evil man reduced you down to, how could I have taken that? How could I, even as Chat Noir, be okay with that guy walking free?”

You blinked, confused but for a second before it clicked in your head what he had been subtly expressing. “You’ve seen him. The way he looks. Influential, charming, intelligent, and a promising college student. I looked up his background on his computer, and no way would your country have prosecuted him. Justice would not have been served, ma chérie.”

His quick switch to English with that phrase threw you off into dozens of memories from America. Flashbacks. And you said, “My friend, my best friend,” and you gently slid your hand into his, scratching yourself only slightly on his claws and feline pads. “Adrien. Just please. Let me know where the akuma is.”

In a sudden, his arms wrapped around you. His heavier and bigger body towering, entrapping you. “My best friend...” his silky, sultrier than warm milk voice slid into your ears. “I’m not Adrien anymore. That weakling gave himself to me because he knew what had to be done and what could be made.”

“So now, and forever, all there is, is Dark Justice.”

And he disappeared with the shadows helping me.

***

He barged into school, having changed more into a feline-human hybrid and wielding a sword 🗡, that had once only been a lasso at his side, pointed at Chloe Bougarais. With kind, alight feline eyes, he spoke, “Even despicable women like you will be served justice, so tell me, Chloe Bougarais, who was the male that assaulted your privates?”

It took most of the class by shock and storm, hearing their gasps and whimpers. You lowered your chin. This was too much, so much. Your rape, your best friend akumatized into a twisted justicebringing mass murderer, Chloe’s hidden sexual assault...

And with her chin upturned, lips twisted but trembling, Chloe appeared to murmur out a name. Adrien sheathed his sword and crept down on all fours, sitting like a cat would with his tail swishing nonchalantly below the desk. “Don’t worry, he will never see another daylight. As have others.”

***

Adrien coughed out spittal and obvious pain. He glared at the ground then at Hugh, who’d just ran out of the courtyard by the aid of Ladybug.

“Have you any idea what that boy has done?" Adrian gasped, voice purring-rumbling in anger. "My lady?"

"Chat Noir?" Ladybug gasped.

"Not even you will stop me from taking his life. I won't allow it. Not now," he raised his sword and charged. "Not ever!"

Ladybug and Chat Noir clashed. Sword and dodging, she was doing really well. "Adrian Agreste, snap out of it! This isn't you. You wouldn't do this! Not even if someone hurt you enough that you were in the hospital, you would never hurt anyone! You always forgave them, you always found a way to deny their evil ways in a peaceful manner!"

Dark Justice had Ladybug pinned against the wall. "I changed for my best friend over there, for my lady. So do not think I won't go to extremes to supply justice. You've no idea what legal systems let him go free despite the evidence larger than a mountain."

The cameraman was filming all of Adrian's rant. All of Paris would see this.

"He would be stopped. If not by the ones we put our faith in, then by me. That's all there is to it, Ladybug; Justice!" Adrian clipped off Ladybug's ponytail. "The right to get what is earned! The right to end evil once and for all! Aren't I just a descendent of the French Revolution, savior of Paris?! Aren't I just barging down the mansion to drag the pigs who are protecting their fellow pigs out of their comfortable, lush halls -- I am dragging them, my lady, and they don't want that but I've kept dragging them out--"

Ladybug's other ponytail fell to Dark Justice's sword. She was looking panicked. Dark Justice's moves were obviously too much for her, and she was already crippled without Chat Noir to help her -- but instead, had to fight her well-experienced partner, akumatized and fueled higher and more terrible than the sun.

"And I will slice open their bellies, I will gut them in the center for all of Paris to see at the slaughter that'll never end! Never will it end! Not by you, not by the military, not by the president of the fucking United States of America, not by my father once I find him and gut him too!"

You stumbled backwards.

You heard an agreement somewhere, two, multiple.

You heard a loud cheer somewhere outside of the school.

Adrian dominated Ladybug in power and strength. His fangs clenched, not even a smile, he was too into this, too attentive to his justice. Ladybug would have to activate her winning move -- her Lucky Charm -- as her last shot.

"Is this what you want to do forever!" Ladybug screamed.

"Until the last droplets of evil is extinguished and the pigs can no longer breed, I will be their inevitable reckoning!" Dark Justice responded, "Don't you get it by now, Ladybug? I can do something about the people who escape the system, the ones who deserve to be punished and to the ones who contiuosly cause harm to other people without mercy. All I have to do is be given a name. I will hear them. I will avenge them. I will end their tormentors!”

Dark Justice's growls increased in volume, like the growling of a tiger and a chainsaw merged as one. He grunted and arched his back as his body increased in muscle mass — and slenders of black protective silky fur spread across his skin. Dark Justice completely overwhelmed Ladybug's strength as he threw her over his head. His pants tore and a loincloth grew from the sudden belt around his waist. His anatomy now that of an anthropomorphic big cat as his face violently changed into that of the creature's, and two masses formed on his abnormally large shoulders. He hissed and clenched his fangs as the masses broke from the surface. His growls and howls of agony of the transformation as the two masses shaped into similar heads like his own and roared upon their birthing.

Adrian really was no longer there, now there was Dark Justice -- the Judge, the Prosecuter, and the Executioner.

“OUR JUSTICE.”

“OUR FRIEND.”

“OUR PEACE.”

“WILL REIGN FOREVER!” yowling from all three mouths simultaneously.

And his sword glowed a bright silvery-white and transformed into a massive Hammer of Justice.

You watched all of this, falling to your knees, and knew how far this was going. But you would get your best friend back.

(POV switches and changes)

“Adrien!” I shouted his name like a vehicle was about to run him over, but that love and warning combusted in and through my veins like fire poppers. The pressure, the height in sensation, I continued walking towards my changed friend, slowly gaining speed until I was in a sprint.

Then I collided paws with Adrien’s. Mine and his. Locked in strength. My jaws stretched open to show their gigantic, lethal lioness teeth and let out a warning yowl.

Adrien was forced back by my strength. I held the form nearly identical in stature and prowess to him, but I was a lioness. Surprise clear to see on his feline features, but then your strength held steady against his.

“I’m not going to fight you, ______. I refuse to.”

Your nostrils flared. The scent of him permeated with blood, old blood, sweat from sudden shock and anxiety, rotting flesh. You growled, "I won't fight you either."

Adrian's eyes showed recognition. "What are you doing then?"

"Doing justice.” Her teeth locked on Adrian’s neck and held. One of his heads yowled. Adrian appeared surprised. Her teeth didn’t dig too far into him but just long enough to immobilize him... and discover where his akuma was hiding.

She spotted the oddity on his loincloth. Some sort of ticket. Their movie ticket. She grabbed at it but missed. It was lodged into his side right.

In all this, Dark Justice struggled to free himself. But her lioness form was much to integral against him, and she hurried. She grabbed the ticket and punched a hole in it with her claws. Dark Justice felt as if his heart had stopped. He fell forwards into her arms as Ladybug began to purify the akuma and the damage done.

***

Adrian stayed in most days after his akumatization. He played video games with ________ and talked with only a few of his classmates. Most everyone at school was wary of him now, but he still went, he enjoyed his time on the roof with _______ and learning new things in class, staying out of the house, finishing his homework and ignoring the near constant hammering of what he had done.

________ grabbed his hand in class. He tightened his group. Soul shaken, but smiling. Things could’ve gone worse.

Thanks to the Paris-Catacomb Accords of 2015, Adrian was completely clean of any and all wrong doing he had brought on everyone, as every Akuma victim was given.

_______ and Adrian looked each other in the eye. “One day, we’ll catch Hawkmoth and make end his reign of terror.”

[This is only a work of fiction and not to be taken as non-fiction]

[cl-01-kestis]

Visions of the Past

Dismay - Grand Admiral Thrawn x Rebel!Reader | Part 3

Summary: As you spend your time hiding on Yavin, Thrawn is getting more and more anxious about finding you and delves deep into his past.

Warnings: slight tension, loads of angst

Throughout the past few days back on Yavin, you’ve spent them teaching Omani about your past and all about her father. She’s grown accustomed surprisingly fast to the fact that one of the main Imperial leaders is her father, in all honesty she’s more glad she finally knows who he is instead of waiting in the dark like she had for the past 14 years.

You showed her pictures, videos, voice recordings, and even let her in on some of your old diary entries. The two of you would gossip in big amounts about different people you used to despise at the Empire, you also filled her in about Kallus and the friendship you had with him before you escaped. She was intrigued about him and sometimes went to him to speak about your past as an Imperial, and sometimes even her father, considering Kallus instantly knew just by looking at her. He wasn’t scared to talk to her, Thrawn didn’t even know she existed, but she reminded him awfully of Thrawn.

But recently, things were strange. With your wanted poster all over the holo net, you were stuck on Yavin 4 and had no where to go considering practically everyone besides the rebels wanted you. You had a 50,000 credit score on your head, so you couldn’t risk even so much as stepping foot outside of the rebel base. These were the times when you wished Ahsoka were here, she would be able to guide and protect you.

“What’s on the agenda today?” You asked, a cup of Caf in your hand as you approached the large holo table which Kallus was standing at. It was 4 in the morning, everyone was asleep apart from you, Kallus and a few navigation operators. Kallus was out of his old Imperial uniform, replaced with a light brown T-shirt and a Khaki jacket. His hair was free from the usual gel he always used back at the academy and it was now hanging naturally. He looked awfully handsome, you hated admitting it.

“Some rebel fleets arriving today... more patients for the medic ward... and that’s it I think” Kallus read from his data pad, his voice strangely positive as he yawned softly and looked at you from across the table. He smiled kindly, tilting his head to the side as you closed your eyes and swayed around in your spot, completely exhausted.

“Bad sleep?” Kallus teased, causing you to open your eyes with a jolt and purse your lips.

“You could say that. I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m still raising a 3 year old” You pinched the bridge of your nose and chuckled before knocking back another sip of the warm Caf in your cardboard cup. Kallus chuffed at your remark, crossing his arms and yawning once again before rolling his shoulders and looking at the holo images on the table.

“So... she is definitely Thrawn’s” Kallus didn’t know whether that was a question or statement, but either way you nodded and suddenly the sleep and exhaustion was stripped from you.

“Definitely his, he’s the only guy I’ve ever... you know” You tried not to make things awkward, but it was already looking that way as you rubbed the back of your neck and avoided eye contact with Kallus. The ex Imperial stayed silent for a moment, face flushing at your words but he cleared his throat abruptly and blinked a few times.

“Fair point,” Kallus tapped a few buttons on the holo table panel and brought up an image of an Imperial base somewhere, studying it intensely whereas you still sipped at your hot Caf.

“What have you been up to all these years?” Kallus continued, looking up from the image and smiling slightly when you paused sipping on your Caf and wiped the corner of your lip when a drip trickled down.

“Honestly, just taking care of Omani most of the time. Sometimes I’m allowed to go on a mission here and there but the rebels think my duty in the rebellion is to be a mother” You sigh, swishing the Caf around in the cup and staring blankly at it, the green hue of the navigation maps reflecting on the surface of the dark brown liquid.

“Better than the Empire though?” Kallus asked with a smile. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Better in every way,” You and Kallus looked at one another for a brief moment with happy smiles. You felt your chest fuzz at his smile and you blinked a few times to make sure you didn’t lose focus.

“Looking back now, the Empire made me miserable, I was just getting my feelings hurt by Thrawn, over and over again...” You drifted off and suddenly the smile was long gone from your face. You were reduced to staring back at your cup but Kallus frowned when he saw how much of an influence Thrawn still had on you.

“Did he hurt you intentionally?” He asked through gritted teeth, arms folded and a glare on his eyes, but it wasn’t directed to you.

“No, not intentional. I was just always getting ahead of myself, my feelings got the better of me and I really thought he saw me as something more,” You felt your stomach flutter with the bad kind of butterflies, eyes stinging momentarily but you refused to cry. It was too early in the morning.

“I don’t want to go on about this” You sighed, rubbing your eyes with your index finger and thumb as you gripped the cardboard cup a bit tighter.

“No, please, say what you’re thinking” Kallus insisted, listening in intensely as you removed your hand and cleared your throat to stuff down the lump building up in your throat.

“Omani asked me a few days ago if he loved me or not... I didn’t exactly give her an answer” You pursed your lips out of guilt, your chest moving up and down at a fairly quick pace, Kallus took notice to it and also your tense posture. This was really bothering you.

“He’s got such an impact on you... I hate seeing you like this because you really don’t deserve this. Thrawn is a narcissistic sadist, he probably doesn’t even know Omani exists but he doesn’t let the past haunt him like it does to you... have you ever tried fighting it? Your feelings for him?” Kallus asked calmly, his voice low so no one else working could hear him. You ducked your head at his question and finally a tear left your eye. You looked up and didn’t bother wiping your eye, instead you kept your emotions bottled up inside and sniffed back more tears.

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried forgetting about him” Your voice was barely below a broken murmur, your breath catching in your throat a couple of times whilst bearing the pain of the fire in your chest.

“You ever tried speaking to anyone about it?” Kallus took off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist due to the humidity inside the navigation room. You admit, it was warm even at 4 in the morning and you decided to take off your cardigan for the time being, your bare arms revealed as the white vest clung to your torso.

“Not really, i opened up to Omani about it barely a few days ago, but I’m not ready to share anything else with her just yet, nevermind anyone else” You wiped away the remaining tears in your eyes before finishing off your Caf and setting the cup down on the holo table.

“Don’t you think that might be part of the issue?” Kallus raised a brow.

“You ask too many questions” You chuckled, voice still hoarse but more clear than before.

Kallus simply smiled and shook his head dismissively at your comment before tapping a few other buttons on the panel before your wanted warrant appeared on the holo table. You folded your arms and looked up at all the information the Empire had revealed about you. You needed to see what they had said about you for your own sake, you wanted to know if they really knew you or worse, if they put Thrawn in charge for the briefing.

“You’re wanted in all of the 1.5 million planets the Empire controls, not only that but they’ve raised your price,” Kallus opened up your full document and you winced at the amount of words on the panel.

“80,000 credits... in all my years working for the Empire, this is one of the highest warrants I’ve seen” Kallus looked at you with a worried face.

“At least i’m worth something” You murmured sarcastically, rolling your eyes before shuffling closer to the table to read the information about you.

‘A-CLASS COMMANDER: TK-1355’

‘Serving the Empire for 3 years, 1355 was a top ranking commander with her own squadron until she left and became part of the Rebellion. She is of great importance to the Empire, and has last been spotted on the planet Atollon by Grand Admiral Thrawn himself’

You glared at the screen, looking away from it with a frown and walked around the table and over to Kallus who tilted his head your way.

Without a word, you walked behind him and hugged his waist, chin resting on his shoulder and eyes closing over due to the stress and how tired you were. Kallus didn’t tense or push you away, he only bit back a smile and let you hold him until you felt better. Kallus was taller than you, so you had to stand on your toes in order to rest on his broad shoulder.

“You should go back to bed if you’re this tired” Kallus chuckled, cranking his head around to peek at you with his dark brown eyes, one of them was surrounded by a purple bruise. You pulled away from his shoulder with reluctance and eventually unravelled your arms from his torso, stretching them up in the air and yawning before shaking your head.

“I’m too awake now, plus Omani’s fast asleep and I don’t want to wake her up” You rubbed your eyes and blinked them a few times to adjust your sight, looking up at Kallus who had turned around without you realising.

“Go to my chambers if you’re worried about waking her?” Kallus pleaded softly with puppy eyes, his knuckles brushing against your chin to tilt your head up and look at him. Your cheeks heated up at his actions but you nodded your head, tongue numbing up at the sudden contact of his fingers against your skin.

“Fine” You muttered before giving Kallus a hug, shying away as he smirked and turned his attention back to the holo table. Yawning once again, you decided it would be best to get a long and enjoyable nap.

-

Thrawn sat quietly in his office, elbows resting on the large desk in front of him as he pursed his lips and stared at the holo photos and videos sprawled out in front of him horizontally. His red eyes were set ablaze with frustration, studying each of the photos and videos with extreme precision before sighing to himself and pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes momentarily.

It had been a week since he saw you on Atollon. A week since he made the controversial decision of not killing you on the spot, and instead let you go. He was kicking himself for the whole week, the only thing he could think of was you. All the memories he had crammed away in the back of his mind had resurfaced and already proved to be distracting him from his job as Grand Admiral.

For all these years, he genuinely thought you were dead. It was rumoured for the first few weeks of your absence that you had been kidnapped, but security footage confirmed you escaped in a flurry of panic. The Empire didn’t assume you were a rebel what so ever, if anything they wanted you back. Thrawn sent out multiple search parties around the galaxy to search for you but he gave up after 5 years. He held on for 5 years for something, anything that could hint that you were alive. But nothing was found. Not even a strand of your hair.

Thrawn was haunted by your disappearance for years; and only recently - about 3 years ago - did he finally forget about it. He prioritised his job as Grand Admiral so much, he ended up letting go of the hope you were still alive and let go of you all together. He had some of your belongings from when you used to visit his chambers late at night, things that ranged from clothes, to hairbrushes, even photos of your parents. Thrawn kept them in a special place in his office on a shelf on the wall beside his desk. All of your things were kept in an average looking bag, just so no one suspected anything and would get nosy.

One thing in particular that Thrawn kept closest to him was your old Imperial Commander badge. It had your TK number, serial number, and full name on it, and Thrawn kept it in the drawer underneath his desk and only took it out when he was stressed. He used to hold it and inspect it until he felt better, that would be the only way he could calm himself down.

Thrawn looked down at the badge in front of him with a terrifying scowl, hands balled into fists but he kept his composure and inhaled deeply through his nose. He couldn’t get angry about this, he had to keep things strictly professional. But his own personal feelings and emotions were driving him to a direction he didn’t want to go in, and this was the result.

Opening his eyes, he exhaled calmly and looked back up at the holo photos displayed in front of him with a blue hue around them and slight static inconveniences that irked him slightly. The photos were from his own personal data pad, one that the both of you shared long ago and, much like your own, had many photos stored onto it.

All of the photos and videos were of you. From a strangers perspective, he looked psychotic and obsessive, but he didn’t care. You were alive. And to make things worse, you were a rebel as well.

The Chiss clicked his tongue and scratched his neck before raising his hand and signalling a specific photo to zoom forward. He leaned forward in his seat and squinted his eyes slightly as a photo of you and himself came into full view. Thrawn felt the memories flashing through his mind and his whole memory bank had a refresher without his permission, he felt uncomfortable but he wasn’t able to stop it.

He remembered the day the photo was taken. He remembers the words exchanged from the conversation the both of you had before the photo was taken. He even knew how you smelled that day, as strange as that was. Being a Chiss made Thrawn remember every single detail about anything, he remembers everything about you and now he considers it as a poisonous curse.

The photo was your first day together at the Royal Imperial Academy, it was a group photo and Eli was somewhere else in there but the photo was cropped so it was only you and Thrawn. You were standing beside each other, your head level with his shoulder and a big bright smile on your face whereas he was staring at the camera with an awkward curve of his lip. The two of you were dressed in the same black uniform and your appearances were immaculate. Thrawn’s long hair was cut off a few days prior to the photo so his hair was slicked back, like it was now.

Pushing away the photo, he picked out another one that peeked his interest and it happened to be a photo of the two of you back on Csilla long before your days at the Empire. You were a fair amount of years younger than Thrawn, about around 5. It was a photo of him, aged 13, holding your hand and walking you supportively to your school on Csilla. It was your first day which is probably why the photo was taken, his mother and Thrass were with you both that day to give extra support since you were the first human child to be allowed into a Chiss school.

Swiping to another photo, he was surprised to see an informal photo which was taken a week before graduation. Thrawn recognised it to be Eli’s skillfully photography and felt his heart ache for the first time since he last saw you. His hands shook slightly as he inspected the photo with glassy eyes.

It was taken at around lunch time and Thrawn was with you in the mess hall at the Academy. The two of you were alone at a table and the two of you were leaning forward to Eskimo kiss - a gesture which you done a fair amount whilst you were still in the Empire.

Thrawn slowly stood up from his seat, leaning forward over the desk and raising his hand unconsciously. His fingers slipped through the holo photo as he skimmed the outline of your face and he was left disappointed, clenching his jaw and blinking back tears before throwing himself back into his seat.

A knock at his door caused him to turn off his data pad which made all of the holo photos go away in a flash, shouting for whoever it was to come in and say whatever they needed to say. An average looking Imperial officer came in with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked neither nervous or shaky, instead he walked up to Thrawn’s desk and cleared his throat before pulling out a small data pad.

“I’ve discovered new information about the ex-Imperial, Admiral” The officer said with a stern tone, offering the pad to Thrawn who looked at it for a few cautious seconds before grabbing the other side of it and looking at whatever was on the screen.

“One of our probe droids which was on Atollon discovered something - she was screaming out someone’s name,” The video played from afar and Thrawn could see you crying and screaming in pain, collapsing into the arms of the Lasat who he knew to be Garazeb. You were crying so much it made Thrawn hurt, but he looked back up to the officer to signal him to continue.

“The name she was saying was Omani, which is a Chiss name. Now, here’s my investigation,” The officer gestured to his pad which Thrawn was holding and the Chiss gave it back to him without a word. After a few seconds of tapping, the officer returned the pad.

“We found reports on a young rebel who identifies as a Chiss female, she has terrorised the Empire many times and has a criminal record full of treason, violence and robbery” Thrawn looked at the profile displayed in front of him and read the information, his curiosity slowly growing the more information he gathered about whoever this woman was.

“This is Omani, but I cannot say what it is short for. I’ve gathered information about her age, date of birth and... relations” The officer’s voice went quiet at the end and it caused Thrawn to raise a brow.

“Go on...” He pried, resting his chin on his knuckles as he scrolled down Omani’s profile.

“She was born months after the ex-Imperials escape, ontop of that, there’s no father figure” The officer fidgeted with his hands behind his back as Thrawn scrolled back to the top to look at Omani a little more closely, he studied her expression and the curves of her face.

“She’s young, what about the mother?” Thrawn asked with a frown.

“Isn’t it obvious sir?” The officer raised a brow but immediately shut up and apologised when Thrawn sent him a sharp, poisonous glare.

“I believe that her mother is the ex-Imperial” He answered.

Thrawn fell silent. His gaze drifted completely off focus and his heart skipped a beat when he put the pieces of the puzzle together. This was a situation he never thought he would find himself in, but the more he realised it was true, the more he panicked and worried about what this information could do to his reputation.

“Get me more information on this... Omani if you can, and contact the information office and get them to find the contact number of the ex-imperial as soon as possible, that is all” Thrawn gave the data pad back to the officer and he gave the Chiss a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking out of his office at a rapid pace.

Thrawn placed his head in his hands once he was completely alone again, he squeezed his eyes shut and ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the neatly gelled strands which turned into an untidy mess. Standing up from his chair, Thrawn locked his chambers and declared himself unavailable, walking back to his bedroom and taking off his white admiral uniform top since he was burning up a storm.

He stood at his window and stared out to the view of the Lothal Imperial Factory, doing his best to keep his emotions inside as his chest heaved up and down due to his heavy, rugged breathing. Hanging his head, he closed his eyes and dug his nails into the window ledge when a single tear left his eye and landed on the carpet.

You were hiding secrets, so many of them. Secrets that could have been easily resolved back when you were still working for the Empire. But now, Thrawn knew now there was so much more to the story than he first assumed. But he was involved in ways he never thought he would be.

It was unfair.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Another One?!, Part 2

First > Next

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

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

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

Like today.

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

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

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

“But…?”

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

He sighed. “C’mon…”

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

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

“There, was that so hard?”

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

She gave him a cheeky grin and a wink.

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

Only to have it spoiled because of his hair.

Dang.

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

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

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

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

He pouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then the trapeze artists came onstage.

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

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

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

And then the wire snapped.

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

The tent was completely silent.

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

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

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

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

He needed help.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dick.”

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

Maybe that was what he was waiting for --?

“No.”

His smile disappeared. Ah. Not great.

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

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

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

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

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

So, what was he supposed to do?

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

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Adrien blanked. “Sorry?”

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

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

And, when he did, his fists clenched.

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

“Zucco.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I hear orphanages suck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dick frowned. “But I --.”

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

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

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

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

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

Dick looked a little skeptical but he nodded.

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

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

Good. She’d understood.

~

She had definitely not understood.

You see, winks are ambiguous.

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

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

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

And then the door had opened.

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

Adrien was still holding Dick to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But leaving him wasn’t an option…

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

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

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

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

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

Adrien and Dick both nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

He watched her bake for a moment in the doorway.

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

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

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

“Unfortunate.”

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

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

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

He raised his eyebrows. “Changes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you calling up Nygma?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

“Okay, M’lady, what’s the plan?”

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss Marinette?” Said the kid.

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

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

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

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

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

“These are good.”

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

He cracked the tiniest of smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“No.”

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

“Are you going to sleep again?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shhhhhhhhh!”

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

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

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

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

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

She remembered The Brownie Incident.

She shivered.

Cocoa powder. Definitely cocoa powder.

She put some butter in the microwave.

“What does ‘holy shit’ mean?”

She wheezed. “Uh-- I-- um--.”

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

Oh thank fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He huffed. “Yes!”

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

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

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

He nodded and then slammed the egg on the counter.

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

“I think I did it wrong.”

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

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

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

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

She handed him a spatula.

“Stir. Go wild, kid,” she said, 

Big mistake.

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

She laughed, only to get splashed with the batter.

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

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

“Whaaaat? No.”

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

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

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

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

Panic.

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

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

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

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

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

Marinette and Dick grabbed their weapons…

An hour later, they were both breathing heavily.

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

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

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

“Now truce! Now truce.”

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

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

“Do you just want to eat the batter?”

“Let me get some spoons.”

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

“Um…?”

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

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

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

“Brownies are cursed.”

~

Adrien felt bad homeschooling the kid.

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

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

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

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

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

He sighed.

The kid was… weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Multi-tasking!

Or maybe it was just efficiency…

Whatever!

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

Dick looked up, frowning. “Like what?”

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

~

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

“Uh… work!” She said.

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

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

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

But she wasn’t.

Barely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just then, her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it and read the news headline.

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

The man nodded.

She scowled as she stepped out and dialled a number.

“NYGMA.”

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

“Yes, I saw. I’m at a job interview!”

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

“YOU CAN, CAN YOU?”

“Yep! How does tomorrow sound?”

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

“Fiiiiine.”

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

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

~

Adrien hesitated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kid groaned and started punching the pads again.

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay. Breathe.

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

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

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

“Time,” he said simply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A name was engraved there.

Zucco.

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

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

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

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

And his guts…

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

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

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

“Asshole. I liked these clothes!”

~

He smiled as he pulled his wife into his side.

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

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

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

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

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

“Nooooooo.”

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

It swung open before she even touched the knob.

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

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

“Or are you guys both going out again?”

Adrien winced. “You noticed that?”

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

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

Dick looked at the ground. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you do it, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

They stayed in silence for a long time. Adrien was pretty sure that Dick had fallen asleep, but he wasn’t going to move. The kid had noticed that they were gone often, but the two of them had always made sure to wait until he had fallen asleep to leave. He had to be waking up at least once a night, so…

He held the kid close to his chest.

A few hours later, the door creaked open.

Adrien opened an eye blearily and saw Marinette get into bed. He lifted an arm for Marinette to join the cuddle and smiled faintly when she actually did.

He let himself drift off.

~

A few days later, Marinette and Adrien came back from patrols to find Dick talking to the kwamis. All of them gave sounds of surprise when they saw the two vigilantes in the door and disappeared except for Trixx, who turned and fixed their purple eyes on them.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly for a second, considering what to say, and then decided on: “What the fuck, guys?”

Adrien removed his arm from around her waist so he could bury his face in his hands.

Trixx smiled. “It’s not what it looks like. He found us.”

“He…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “So… you’re telling me that this kid pushed our bed aside, pulled up the exact right floorboard, and pulled out the miracle box...”

“... yes.”

“Forgive me for being skeptical, but I’m not buying it.”

Dick pouted and hugged the tiny fox to his chest. “Are you mad at her?”

Marinette hesitated.

Before Dick had known about the kwamis, they had a chance of giving him back. They would have been able to find better parents for him, been able to give him a genuinely good life. But now… they couldn’t risk giving him up. The reason they’d taken him in in the first place was that he was relatively loose-lipped. Now that he knew something so important, there was no way in hell that they could risk him ever telling anyone.

Of course, she doubted they would have been able to give up Dick anyways. She’d grown annoyingly attached to the kid, he was sweet and generally made her life a little more fun, but now there wasn’t an option at all.

Still, this part of their lives… beyond needing to keep things a secret, it was extremely dangerous to involve a kid in this kind of thing.

Adrien answered first: “No, we’re not mad. Just… this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“And what was the plan? Never telling me that we have a bunch of… what did they call themselves? Kwamis? Whatever, they’re gods. There are just gods living in our house!”

Marinette shrugged. “We weren’t telling you because we didn’t want you to get dragged into this part of our lives, sweetie.”

Dick huffed. “And are there any other secrets that I should know about?”

“They’re Ladybug and Chat Noir,” supplied Trixx.

“TRIXX?!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE CHAT NOIR AND LADYBUG?!”

The fox kwami laughed and disappeared.

Marinette scowled. “I know you’re still here, Trixx, where are you? I will hunt you.”

“Please, Mari, you don’t need to do that. Just get the fox miraculous and summon her here, it’s much easier.”

“Smart.”

“WHY HAVE YOU STILL NOT DENIED IT?!”

Marinette and Adrien looked at each other awkwardly.

Well… the secret was out.

She opened her purse and he opened his jacket, and their kwamis slowly poked their heads out to look at Dick.

Poor kid was not prepared.

He covered his eyes with his hands and took a few deep breaths. “So… I… wow…”

Well, she supposed there could be worse reactions.

“Wait, so are you investigating what happened with my parents?”

Like that. That was a worse reaction. Fuck.

Marinette carefully took a seat on the floor by her kid. Adrien sat down as well.

“We’re working on it,” she said carefully. “I’m following a lead and I got help from a… an associate of ours.”

Adrien nodded. “It will take a while. It’s just the two of us -- and Nygma, I guess -- so it’s not going to be done quickly.”

Dick removed his hands from his eyes and looked at them both. “I want to help.”

“No,” said both adults instantly.

“But --.”

“Nope,” said Marinette.

“I --.”

Adrien held up his hands. “Not allowed.”

Dick pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not? They’re my parents.”

Marinette shook her head slowly. “It has nothing to do with that. You’re a kid, we can’t just let you fight crime.”

“Oh? And when did you start fighting crime?”

“Eighteen,” said Marinette, which technically wasn’t a lie…

Which means it was unfortunate that Adrien gave a more accurate answer: “I was twelve, she was thirteen.”

She groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Damn it, Adrien.”

“So, when I’m twelve, can I join you guys?”

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. She didn’t want to be a hypocrite, but she also didn’t want to let an actual kid fight crime. She had fought crime as a kid, it had messed her up. She wasn’t eager to pass that on to someone else…

But…

“Fine. How about this: if we don’t solve it by the time you’re twelve you can join us for that case specifically.”

Dick pouted a little, but seemed to understand. “Okay.”

She and Adrien met eyes. They had three years to solve this case before Dick would get involved, and they couldn’t let that happen.

But it was three years.

How hard could it be?

~

He and Marinette sat on the floor in front of the miracle box, sorting the miraculi into two different piles: ‘Will Protect’ and ‘Can’t Protect’.

Once that was done, they started sifting through the ‘Will Protect’ pile.

“Turtle?” Marinette said.

Adrien shook his head. “Doesn’t fit his fighting style. Bee?”

She shuddered. “Don’t need another Chloe. Snake?”

They tipped their heads from side to side as they considered it, but then Trixx piped up: “I’m right here, y’know.”

The two vigilantes jumped out of their skin. Then they glared at the kwami.

“Must you always sneak up on us?”

“Yes. Anyways, I’m the best fit for the kid and you know it.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Adrien raised his eyebrows.

It was true. From the moment they’d started considering giving Dick a miraculous (because, even if they doubted he was ever going to get to that point, they figured they should at least make sure he was safe), they’d both been eyeing the fox miraculous…

Thing was…

“You’re just going to tell him more of our secrets,” he complained, sighing.

Trixx crossed their paws over their chest. “Do you really have any other secrets you care about?”

They considered this for a minute, before Marinette clicked her tongue.

“Fine. Fine! Adrien, you’ll need to train him on his powers, your secondary powers are closer than mine. I’ll take up sparring to teach him a fight style that better matches his circus training.”

Adrien pouted and fell back until his head hit her lap. “You don’t think I was teaching him well enough? Because our fight styles and training were completely different? I’m wounded, M’lady. I’ll never recover.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He smiled. “I’ve been cured.”

She clicked her tongue.

Adrien smiled…

And then her watch beeped. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her stomach. “Nooooo, don’t gooooooooooo.”

“I can’t just not go, Chaton.”

“Why nooooot? It would be so easy.”

She slowly peeled his arms off of her, smiling fondly. “Relax. I’ll be back later. Hang out with… with Di --... Nope. With the kid. Maybe train him a little in his powers or whatever.”

He laid on the floor with a pout as he watched her leave, and then looked down at the necklace in his hands.

Well, he supposed he might as well. What else could he do? Protect the city? Nah.

He walked to his kid’s room and rolled his eyes when he saw the kid standing with his ear pressed to the wall.

“Hello?”

Dick’s face reddened and he turned to Adrien with a bright smile. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Wow, he really was a good fit for Trixx.

He sighed and offered the necklace. “You’re not in trouble. C’mon, we’re going to teach you to use these powers.”

Trixx floated over to rest on Dick’s shoulder and Adrien waved him along to the training room.

Adrien held up a hand before walking to the window and quickly shutting the curtains.

He smiled as the kid transformed.

Adrien stretched lazily. “Right, on your back right now is a flute. It… works like a flute. You can play music with it if you want, and also hit people with it if you want. It also summons your power.”

Dick nodded and pulled it off his back. “What can I do?”

“You play a note and envision an illusion of some sort. The limit is just your imagination.”

“Like a Green Lantern?”

“I… kind of. You just have illusions, if you touch them they disappear.”

“That sucks.”

“I guess. Alright, so you’re probably going to have side-effects.”

He watched the kid’s eyes widen and rushed to explain: “It usually isn’t bad. Just weird. It’s why I like to sit on counters and why Mari’s always so cold. It also changes looks a little. Like… Mari has a lot more white in her eyes and my hair has those two little tufts that I have to gel down.”

Dick’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay. So… powers.”

“Yep.”

He pulled out his flute.

Adrien smiled. “Right, let’s start simple. The main thing you need is a clear vision. I’m going to close my eyes and you’re going to make something appear in the room. If you’re doing it right then it should appear real, if not then we’ll figure out what’s going wrong.”

He closed his eyes and waited for a few seconds after he heard the shrill note of the flute. Then he opened his eyes.

And came face to face with a giant, bright pink inflatable elephant.

“I…”

Dick grinned. “Think we should address the elephant in the room?”

He blinked once, then broke into a matching grin. “You’re what’s been missing from my life. Oh my kwami. That was beautiful.”

Then he actually went to inspect the elephant. It was pretty good. The lighting was a little off but it wasn’t plainly obvious it was fake, if he wasn’t paying attention he doubted he would’ve noticed. That made sense. Powers were usually pretty instinctual.

He nodded slowly. “Now try something that makes sound.”

Dick brought the flute to his lips and played another note.

He had expected the elephant to disappear and get replaced by something. Instead, it let out a high whine as the air in it slipped out of a new gash on its side.

Adrien smiled.

“Nice.” He sighed and let his smile lessen. Now for the reason they had thought the fox miraculous could be used for protection: “Okay. Make yourself disappear.”

He got a frown for that one. “Sorry?”

“It’s… you’re still a kid. You need to know how to cloak yourself so you don’t get hurt. We can’t really stop you from coming with us in an ethical way, but we need to at least make sure you’ll be okay if you come along.”

Dick frowned. “I thought you were going to let me help.”

“In three years. If we haven’t already solved this case yet. And if we think that you’re going to be able to handle it.”

“But --.”

“We were heroes at a young age. True. We weren’t ready for it, though, and we don’t want to screw up a kid in the same way we were screwed up. That’s the whole thing about having kids, we want you to have a better life than we did.”

The kid gave an annoyed expression before bringing his flute to his lips. With a shrill note, the annoyed face disappeared.

Adrien tipped his head from side to side as he considered this. He was pretty sure that he could sense something off, but he wasn’t sure if that was just his mind messing with him because he knew that Dick was there…

He walked towards where he’d last seen him to make sure and then stopped short when he realized what was off. His feet weren’t making any sound.

There wasn’t any sound at all, actually.

“You’ve done too much. You got rid of all sound, not just your own.”

Dick appeared, a grin on his face.

“This is boring. Can we make it into a game? Like hide-n-seek?”

Adrien hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t see why not.” He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. “Thirty… twenty-nine…”

~

She hummed absently as she and Dick stretched to warm up.

She was a little jealous, if she was honest, he was way more flexible than she was even though he was out of practice and she wasn’t. She’d been stretching before this kid was even born. How dare he still be more flexible than her.

Still, she rolled to her feet and offered him a hand up.

Dick’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and he did a backhandspring from the floor.

How the fuck?

But she wasn’t going to act like this was an amazing thing. She was already bitter enough about his flexibility, admitting that he was also better at gymnastics would be even worse.

Instead, she grinned. “Hey, kid, what should we call you?”

He thought for a minute, taking his flute out and twirling it in his hand like a baton. “Robin?”

“I…” She held up a finger to say ‘one minute’ and then pulled out her phone. After a quick google search to make sure they were talking about the same animal, she gave her kid a confused look. “You’re a fox.”

“Yes.”

“Robins are birds.”

“Yes.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She really didn’t know why she asked a kid who called himself ‘Dick’ to name himself. Really, she should have expected this.

Marinette shrugged to herself. “Fine. I’m just gonna keep calling you ‘sweetie’.”

“Okay!” He stopped twirling his flute and pointed it at Marinette. “So, you’re going to teach me to use my circus training for fighting?”

She sighed and pulled out her cane, leaning against it. “Right. I’ll need to check to see how well you know the basics, first, though.”

Dick groaned. “I’m ready. I feel like I’ve been ready for ages!”

“I know, I know, but I need to make sure, okay?”

He gave her an annoyed look.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly. “Okay. Fine.” She dropped her cane. “Spar with me.”

Dick’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yep. You’ll have first swing and I won't get a weapon.”

True to her word, she let him have the first swing. She dodged and grabbed his arm, then pressed her foot to the middle of his back. He hit the ground with a groan. She pulled the flute from his hand and sent him a tired glare.

“You got lucky,” said Dick, his voice muffled against the floor.

She pulled him back to his feet. “No, you’re a child and I’ve been fighting for years. Like pretty much everyone else you’re going to fight. Which means that we can’t rush your training, okay? You have years before we let you into the field, if we do, so…”

He brushed himself off with a bitter expression.

“Fine. We drill basics.”

~

Riddler grinned, spinning around in his chair.

“Ladybug and Chat Noi --.” He stopped short, his eyes widening as they spotted something behind them. “What the heck? You guys brought a kid to this?”

He glanced behind himself and cringed lightly. He reached out and gently pulled Dick behind himself a little. Nygma had never been one for random attacks, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to make sure that this kid was safe.

And why had they brought him?

Marinette clicked her tongue once in annoyance. “Hey, sweetie, show the nice man your powers for a second.”

Dick brought his flute to his lips. With one high note he was gone.

Yep. They were really regretting giving him that miraculous right about then. They hadn’t even realized that he was coming along until Adrien had missed a jump and realized that his bones hadn’t audibly cracked like they usually did when he messed up like that.

He reappeared with a fox-like grin playing across his thin lips.

(Or maybe they just thought it was fox-like because he was currently dressed as a fox. Who knows.)

Riddler considered this for a minute, then nodded. “I understand now.”

Adrien sighed. “Yep.”

Marinette pulled out her yoyo and summoned a coloring book and some crayons. Dick beamed and plopped down on the floor to color.

The parents smiled fondly at their kid and then turned to Riddler.

“Now, you have news?” Adrien said.

“Good news and bad news.”

The adults looked at each other and gave tiny shrugs.

“Good news first,” said Marinette.

“Good news is that there’s only one person who supplies that specific acid.”

Adrien’s eyebrows knit together. That sounded good, but…

“Bad news is that she’s pretty popular. Over two-hundred customers popular.”

Ah. There it was.

Marinette covered Dick’s ears so she could curse.

Adrien, however, shrugged. “Do you have a list of her customers?”

Riddler nodded slowly. “Of course. I’ll forward it to you guys.”

“Thanks for the help, Nygma. See you in a few months.” With that, Marinette picked up Dick and held him to her hip.

“I’ll get you with the next one!”

“Mhmm. Sure.”

Adrien gave an apologetic smile and a friendly wave as he hurried out after his wife.

~

Marinette hummed absently as she pulled her jacket on, then froze up when she heard a gun click behind her head.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

She pulled a smile to her face and held her hands up in a kind of surrender, then turned around.

Wow. This man looked exactly like how gangsters looked in movies. She probably would have laughed if he wasn’t pointing a gun at her.

And, even with the gun pointed at her, she had to suppress a smile.

“Who are you?” He asked.

She frowned. “Shouldn’t I be asking that of you, sir? You’re the one attacking the random trapeze artist.”

“You’ve killed every single man I’ve sent in here to make sure everything was going to plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve sent a woman. We apparently get the job done better.”

“Who. Are. You?”

“Marinette Agreste, but I’m sure you knew that. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that I’ve killed ‘every single man you’ve sent here’.”

He scowled. “That wasn’t what I was asking and you know it.”

“Do I? Maybe you should be clearer,” she said. “Or, you could just tell me your name and I promise I would be much more compliant.”

The man seemed to consider this for a minute, his face tinged red with annoyance. She tried to push down the twinge of satisfaction. Even if this wasn’t Zucco, he at least had to be pretty high up and was likely the person who had ordered the goons to kill Dick’s parents. This bitch deserved all the hell she gave him, in her not-so-humble opinion.

“Giovanni,” he said carefully.

She smiled. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who am I...? I don’t know. I sometimes fight people. What else is there to say?”

He didn’t seem amused. “Why are you killing all my men?”

“I wouldn’t have to if they didn’t notice me noticing them every time. It’s getting very annoying. Send less observant people.”

Her eyes caught Kaalki’s. The kwami was hiding in a duffel bag that had been left open and she gave a tiny shrug to say go.

The man gave a scream as a portal sliced his hand off.

Marinette hummed absently and leaned down to pick up the gun. She pried the hand off of the gun and tossed it aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK --.”

“I know, I know, it hurts, but could you be quieter?” She rubbed the side of her head. “Right, I have a few questions about Zucco.”

“He’d kill m --.”

“Yes. Yes, he would. But maybe you should concern yourself less with him, who has already made up his mind about killing you, and more about me, who’s still mulling it over.”

An hour later she stepped out of the changing room, humming as she tossed the gun back over her shoulder lazily.

“Haly?” She yelled, and smiled when his head popped out from his train care.

He looked stunned for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Yes?”

“I’m quitting. It’s been fun, though!”

She bit her lip as she strode out into the night.

Well, if she wasn’t already on Zucco’s radar she definitely would be now.

Greeeeaaaat.

~

It’s hard to look into people when you’re on the run from the mob.

They’d done everything they could think of. Marinette had withdrawn everything from their accounts, Adrien had altered all their appearances, Dick had... come along.

And it turns out tracking down 237 people is hard or something. Who knew.

You have to:

Figure out whether or not the person you’re after has pseuds. In order to do this you have to track their income patterns. This requires pretty high tech stuff, which they were generally trying to avoid because of the whole ‘mob out to get them’ thing.

Then, if they do have pseuds, you have to find all their assets. Then you have to go and check every single safehouse to see if it is, in fact, Zucco or someone working for him. It’s not fun. Most people in the mob are trained to not tell secrets no matter what, and getting to the point where you can get that information is… time consuming.

And they didn’t have time.

They glared at the remaining names. Dick was turning twelve tomorrow. They hadn’t even realized it because time was getting fuzzy again, but then they had come home to him hanging upside down from one of the lights on the ceiling and chanting about how close his birthday was.

After checking to make sure their kid hadn’t somehow gotten high or drunk, because what the heck, they had flown into a panic about how much work they still had to do.

“What’re the ethics of killing all 92 people tonight?” She asked, leaning back against her husband as he clicked through files.

“Even if we could, I’d say it’s probably frowned upon.”

She groaned and closed her eyes, then opened them again to glare at the papers in front of her. “How much you wanna bet that the very first one we choose after the kid joins us is going to be the right one?”

“Knowing our luck? That’s definitely going to happen.”

She gave a bitter laugh before pushing herself back up. “I’m going to break into a bakery to make a cake.”

“Cupcakes. You know he’s going to want to spend the day out in the field looking for answers, we might as well have food we can travel with.”

She clicked her tongue but nodded.

He fell back on the bed and glared at the list. He should have said they started at eighteen...

~

Well, at least it hadn’t been the first person that they’d looked into with Dick.

It had been the second.

After… ‘interogating’ the guy they’d found, they’d been given the name of this cruise ship and where it often docked. Then Dick had given them all cover so they could sneak on undetected.

And now night had hit. The three of them sat, perched on a railing as they observed the goons below them.

She watched Adrien send a wave before disappearing to take out the captain and destroy anything that could be used to contact land.

She turned to the kid next to her and reached out to ruffle his hair. “Ready, sweetie?”

Dick gave a slightly nervous smile before pulling out his flute.

“You’re only allowed to get involved if I’m dying, remember?”

He nodded, though she got the feeling that the kid wasn’t listening. Or, rather, he was listening and just opting not to take the words to heart.

She clicked her tongue once. Then she began walking along the outer edges of the ship, Dick trailing along behind her. She twirled her yoyo absently. They needed to get to the private quarters, as she was pretty sure that Zucco wouldn’t be anywhere else (he sent people out to do all his work, there was no way he was doing any work on his ship).

Then she heard laughter.

She looked up and scowled at the three henchmen who were leaning over the side of the railing above them.

“Oh my god, Ladybug has a kid!”

Her yoyo came to a stop. “Hilarious, I know.”

“Kinda! I mean the most deadly vigilantes in the world have a little kid trailing around like a lost puppy! That’s so good!”

She pressed her lips together tightly. “Mhmm. Please, tell me more...”

“Gonna say ‘or else’? Or else what? You’re going to change our diapers?”

She nodded slowly, then turned to Dick. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. She opted to ignore the way the three roared with laughter above her at the action, instead concentrating on him.

“Sweetie, I want you to cover your eyes for a second, please. I’ll tell you when you can look again, okay?”

He nodded and brought his hands to his eyes.

She wheeled on the criminals, whose laughter was quickly dying.

“Oops,” said one of them, his voice so quiet she’d barely heard it.

But she did. And she fought off some laughter of her own. “‘Oops’ is right.”

Three minutes later, she smiled and pulled Dick’s hands away from his eyes.

“Hey, sweetie, how’re you feeling?”

He glanced behind her and she winced, expecting him to become horrified, but then he suddenly tossed his flute.

There was a satisfying ‘thunk’ as it made contact with the guy’s head and he fell over the side.

Marinette looked at Dick and gave him a tiny smile. He beamed in return.

“Thanks for the save.”

“No problem.”

She tossed her yoyo and recovered his flute for him, then took his hand. She led her kid through the ship.

~

When he caught up with them, Adrien smiled and rested a hand over the top of the kid’s head. “I found out where the private quarters are.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

The three of them went along in silence. Whenever they passed someone they’d casually knock them over the side. They might live that way.

But probably not.

Still, it was relatively easy.

They walked along the private quarters, poking their head in doors and then closing them.

Eventually, they came to the most grandiose-looking cabin. Really, they should have checked it first, but whatever. Marinette, Adrien, and Dick all gave each other wary looks before Adrien kicked the door open.

The poor guy had been asleep. Sucks.

Zucco looked up slowly and then gasped, reaching under his pillow and pulling out a gun.

Ah. Now that sucks for them.

Dick gave a high-pitched whine.

Marinette and Adrien instantly reached for Dick to push him behind them, only to stop short when their hands passed through clean air. They turned to look, confused expressions on their faces, only to find that the kid was gone.

Uh…

They frowned slightly and looked around. Their faces drained of color when they found their way back to where Zucco was.

Or, rather, had been. Because he was missing, too.

Marinette cursed beside him and Adrien felt like punching a wall. Dick hadn’t been making that noise because he was scared, he’d been making that noise because he’d been creating an illusion.

They had to stop Dick before he did something he would regret.

Their eyes searched the room desperately, their ears strained. There had to be something off. Dick and Zucco hadn’t left, Marinette and Adrien were covering too much of the door for both of them to squeeze past without the illusion breaking, so they were still in the cabin.

Marinette pursed her lips tightly and pulled the door shut, then lopped off the doorknob with her yoyo.

Adrien nodded and they began to shuffle through the room.

It was needlessly huge, but there was a lot of stuff in it. A bed, a mostly untouched kitchen area, a bathroom with a jacuzzi, a possibly real treasure chest, a vanity…

He knocked his staff against things absently. It should reveal illusions…

Where was this kid?

He kicked some jewelry on the floor in irritation and then blinked when they hit the wall nearby without a sound.

Wait a minute…

He swung his staff in a large circle around him and couldn’t help but wince when he hit something that he couldn’t see. The illusion shattered and Dick groaned in pain as he stumbled off of Zucco, holding his side where Adrien had hit him.

But, for once, Adrien wasn’t looking at the kid. His eyes found their way to the floor, where Zucco had curled up. He was beaten and bloody, bruises starting to form on his pale skin.

“Robin…” He whispered, looking at Dick.

Dick was crying, the blunt end of his flute bloodied.

Adrien walked over and carefully pulled the flute from his hands and then drew him into his chest. “You can’t kill him.”

“But --!”

“No buts.” Marinette gave Zucco a kick to the head to make sure he was down before joining the hug.

“But you kill people!”

“And we’re also adults. When you’re an adult you can kill people, too.”

“M’lady…”

She winced a little. “Yeah, I hear it. But… anyways, sweetie, we can’t let a kid kill anyone. Killing… it messes with you. We don’t want that life for you.”

Adrien sighed. “You’re a kid. You can’t kill someone, it’s not good for your psyche. Leave that kind of thing to us.”

Dick took a shaky breath, and then nodded.

They’d been right to not want to include him in this. Vigilantism wasn’t healthy for kids.

And they especially shouldn’t have brought Dick along for this part, they should have expected that something like this would happen. He was too close to the case.

He swallowed thickly and hugged him closer.

Marinette pulled away carefully. She hummed, grabbing Zucco by the back of his nightshirt and dragging him away.

He gently rubbed circle’s into the kid’s back. “You want some ice cream? I think there’s still some at home…”

Dick giggled a little. “That ice cream is so expired.”

“You don’t know that!”

“It’s been, like, three years.”

Adrien sighed. “Okay, maybe, but hush.”

He pulled away slightly from the kid and wiped some stray tears from his cheeks.

“Want to go home anyways?”

Dick smiled faintly and nodded.

~

She dropped back on the bed and smiled as she curled in the blankets. The night had been… interesting… but at least she was home now.

She felt tiny hands wrap around her and her smile widened as she felt a face bury itself in her stomach.

But then her smile lessened. She slowly combed her fingers through the kid’s hair.

“I need your miraculous back, sweetie.”

“No. I want to keep doing it.”

She gave Adrien a pleading look and he sighed, slipping into bed and wrapping his arms around them. “She’s right. We don’t want —.”

“And what about what I want?”

It definitely wasn’t an angle they’d considered. They’d been very concerned about the kid ending up like them (they had given up on trying to fix themselves a long time ago, but they were still self aware of the fact that they didn’t cope healthily). But… what if they were too late? The kid had already been exhibiting signs of their bad coping mechanisms, had been since the start, had they accidentally encouraged it just by being around him?

She didn’t know.

What she did know, though, was that they’d messed up by letting him come along. He’d had a taste of the adrenaline, and there was no going back.

She flinched. “I… are you sure?”

Dick nodded against her stomach. “I want to help people.”

She bit her lip. Dick was one of those kids that would sneak out and do it anyways, the least they could do was make sure he was safe.

Adrien seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he sighed again and squeezed them both tighter.

“As long as you make sure to always be with one of us while you’re doing vigilante work…” he said reluctantly.

“I can do that.”

Oh, thank kwami. 

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I guess it would be kind of cool to have a whole family of vigilantes...”

~~~

As it turns out, I am unable to write pure fluff. It eludes me.

On the other hand, I managed a Christmas update!! Go me!!

~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo

[chilligyu]

info: im jaebum/reader, teen+, strangers to lovers au genre: soft angst, romance | word ct: 5.1k warnings: suggestive themes summary: for years, jaebum tried to forget the woman who broke his heart. little did he know that she wasn’t so easily forgotten, and that her face would haunt him at every turn. note: so I started this three years ago after listening to got7′s face for the first time and I’ve been editing it and forgetting it ever since. lol maybe someone will enjoy it

“Jaebum, I’m sorry.”

Okay.

“I really am.”

Okay.

“Please understand—”

Okay.

“Jae? Don’t just stand there.”

Okay.

“Please—please say something!”

Like what?

Jaebum didn’t know what she expected him to say, not after that. After she ripped out his heart.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

She just stood there in the doorway, bag in hand, waiting for his response with tears in her eyes. He knew she was trying to stay strong, he could see her lip trembling as she held it between her teeth. How long would she wait there? How long would she bat her eyelashes at him innocently waiting for him to make it all okay? What did she even want from him? Forgiveness? Reassurance? Did she think that somehow an apology would make their breakup hurt any less?

“Goodbye, Seohyun.” He forced out through clenched teeth. “Thanks for everything.”

“Wait—Jaebum—!”

Closing the door on both her and their three year relationship, Jaebum couldn’t remember what he did next. He couldn’t remember clawing every photograph off the walls, he couldn’t remember how his fingers stung as they dug into the plaster. He couldn’t recall pulling every plate from their cabinets, he couldn’t recall how his feet bled when he stepped on the broken porcelain. He couldn’t recollect how much he hated the man who stared at him in the mirror, he couldn’t recollect how his fist destroyed the glass and how it finally reflected how he felt inside.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

That was over a year ago. And it felt like an eternity to him. Looking at himself now, suit neatly pressed, shoes freshly shined, he didn’t see any semblance of the man from that night. After he destroyed everything that reminded him of her, as he saw the pictures of happier times reduced to embers in the fireplace, he made himself a promise. He swore that he would never let anyone ruin him so completely ever again. Steeling his heart and caging it in ice, he wouldn’t even give them the chance.

Never again.

“Jae?” Jinyoung inquired, knuckles rasping against Jaebum’s door. “We’re heading out for drinks, want to come with?”

He didn’t even look up from the reports he was filing. “Can’t. I’m busy.”

Jinyoung crossed his arms. “Shocker. You’re always busy.”

“That comes with being the boss.” Jaebum countered easily.

Rolling his eyes, Jinyoung leaned against the doorframe. “C’mon, Jae, just pretend you’re a regular guy and not an office robot for a couple of hours. Would it hurt to have a little fun?”

“Maybe. Socializing is against my programming.” Jaebum teased in a robot voice. “I cannot acquiesce to your request.”

“Dammit Jae.” Jinyoung sighed in disbelief. “Your humor is wasted in this tiny little room. Go out with us. Free yourself from the confines of this dastardly place. One night with the guys isn’t going to kill you. And if it does, I’ll buy lunch for a week. Scouts honor.”

Jaebum snickered quietly. “Alright, if it gets you to shut up I’ll go out for a couple of hours.”

“And do a couple of shots?” Jinyoung pressed hopefully.

“Don’t push your luck, Jin.” Jaebum chastised him, leering over his glasses. “I’ll have a glass of wine and that’s it.”

“I’ll take it.” Jinyoung shrugged. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. You want to catch a ride with me?”

Pursing his lips, Jaebum shook his head. “I’ve got to turn these in before I go. I’ll meet you there if you text me the address.”

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes at his friend suspiciously. “I swear to God, Jae, if you flake on us I’m going to come back here and kick your sorry ass.”

“Like you could take me.” Jaebum smirked. “Just go, I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

Jinyoung didn’t relent, his head dragging as he headed towards his own office. “I’ve got my eyes on you, Im Jaebum. You’re not going to fool me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Jaebum informed him. “But if you keep bothering me I’m going to magically find a stack of financial statements that need to be filed. And who better to file them than my good buddy Park Jinyoung—”

“See you there!” Jinyoung interrupted, dashing down the hall like his heels were on fire. “I’ll text you!”

Chuckling at the expense of his friend, Jaebum leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen against his leg. He couldn’t remember the last time he went out just to go out. It had been too long since he was desperate for the numbing sensation of alcohol pulsing through his veins to simply function normally. The last time he could remember drinking he couldn’t recall anything that happened after. Not until he woke up in some woman’s bed that he didn’t bother to learn the name of. He wanted to feel bad, or at least some part of him did. Because she wasn’t the first, and she most certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Not tonight. He decided. Not this time.

When his phone lit up, a text message from Jinyoung waiting for him impatiently, Jaebum quickly got to work. As much as he tried to keep his stoic face in front of his friend, he needed to get out of the office. If he had to read another poorly written report littered with inaccuracies and spelling errors, he was going to lose his mind. Jinyoung’s offer could not have come soon enough.

By the time he was done, the sun was already starting to set. Cursing underneath his breath, Jaebum grabbed his coat and bolted out the door. Opting to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator, he checked the bus schedule while tugging on his gloves. Jinyoung had already been at the bar much longer than he’d like, meaning that Jaebum wasn’t going to get out of the night unscathed. Lucky for him he was always prepared for such occasions. The bottle of aspirin in his desk drawer and him were about to be fast friends.

“Jae!” Jinyoung screamed through the phone. “Where are you!”

Jaebum groaned loudly as he made it out to the street. “I’m sorry, I’m still at the office. But I’m leaving now, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“You better be!” Jinyoung continued. “Because I’ll—I’ll kick your ass if you’re not!”

“Shut up Jinyoung, you’re drunk.” He muttered, ending the call and stuffing his phone in his pocket.

Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Jaebum walked briskly to the bus station just down the block. Instantly regretting turning down Jinyoung’s offer for a ride when the cold winter air pelted his skin. Opening his eyes even the slightest caused his eyes to water, each step he took sent a chill down his spine, frost nipped at the tips of his ears, he could barely stand it.

As he waited less than patiently, Jaebum found himself watching the people that passed him. An elderly woman wearing a mismatched set of mittens, a small dog in a boorish sweater jogging along beside her. Two school boys fussing over a handheld video game, laughing jovially despite their harsh words. A young couple walking hand in hand, their eyes filled with affection and warmth, leaving Jaebum with a foul taste in his mouth.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

Lighting a cigarette, he did his best not to think about Seohyun. About how she left him on a night just like this. How each kiss on her eager lips tasted like lies. How her brown eyes hollowed out his very soul. And how each promise she made cut him like knives. Jaebum had been trying to erase her from his life for a whole year. But no matter how much he drank, or how many women he kissed, he could still taste her on his tongue.

Even cigarettes do nothing to mask her taste. He mused, inhaling deeply and savoring the tobacco that filled his lungs.

When the bus pulled up to the curb, Jaebum dropped his unfinished cigarette in the street. Sighing, he tapped his foot impatiently as the doors opened and people spilled out onto the sidewalk. He had completely forgotten how cramped public transport could get during the winter. Another reason why he hated the desolate season. And Jinyoung’s persistent drunken text messages and calls weren’t helping his rapidly souring mood.

“What is it now, Jinyoung?” Jaebum exasperated, getting on the bus and swiping his card.

“Do you know that fish cake shop by the bar?” Jinyoung asked sluggishly. “The one that I really really like?”

Jaebum pinched the bridge of his nose as he found a seat at the back of the bus. “No, I do not. But I take it you want me to stop there?”

“Yeeeesss.” He dragged out. “I’m dying for a good fish cake.”

Sometimes I wonder how we’re friends. “Alright, fine, I’ll get you your stupid fish cake. How far away from the bar is the shop?”

“Not far at all!” Jinyoung exclaimed. “Just down the street a ways, you can’t miss it! Thanks Jae! You’re the best!”

Beep beep beep.

Pocketing his phone, Jaebum did his best not to let the night get away from him. He had to keep reminding himself that all of his problems could easily be solved with the bottle of scotch that was waiting at the bar. Jinyoung owed him, and getting free drinks out of him while he was drunk was an easy task for Jaebum. All of that was worth the annoying errands that his best friend was infamous for sending him on.

There’s a scotch on the rocks waiting for you. He told himself over and over again. Do it for the scotch. Scotch can get you through anything.

“Now approaching, Namdaemun Market. Thank you for choosing Seoul Public Transportation, have a nice day.”

As the bus rolled to a complete stop, Jaebum quickly stood and waited for the doors to open. Shouldering past the new borders, he apologized quietly, thankful to finally be off the cramped bus and back out on the street. Even if it was a bit colder than he remembered. Shivering, he pulled his lapel taught over his face, scanning his surroundings for the fish cake shop he was supposed to visit. What he found instead was a ghost from his past. A ghost with hair as black as the hole she gouged into his chest.

Seohyun? He swallowed nervously, his palms sweating despite the brisk December air. Is it really her? Please—please tell me that I’m seeing things.

It had to be her, he knew it deep down inside. He knew by the way his heart stopped, how his stomach sank, that it couldn’t be anyone else. But—his mind wasn’t so easily convinced. How could it be her? How could Lee Seohyun be standing right in front of him? Just as beautiful as the day she ripped out his heart without a care in the world. Waiting outside an electronics kiosk, a lollipop stick protruding from her perfect cherry red lips and a guitar slung over her shoulder as if—

A guitar? Jaebum questioned. Since when does Seohyun know how to—

Realization dawned on Jaebum almost instantly. His eyes were playing tricks on him, like they had so many times before. It wasn’t Seohyun, it would never be Seohyun. No matter how much a small miniscule part of him still wanted her back in his arms, she never would be his. The woman before him was simply his projection of something he would never have. Underneath his breath, Jaebum cursed himself for being hung up on her after all this time.

Still, his gaze didn’t waver as he watched the Seohyun look alike walk down the street. The resemblance was uncanny, had he been intoxicated he would’ve surely mistaken her for Seohyun. She even walked like her. The way her hips swayed—Jaebum couldn’t bring himself to look away. She was beautiful, breathtaking, mysterious, entrancing, the same dangerous formula that Jaebum became addicted to so easily.

For a brief moment, he couldn’t find the differences between them. From the way her dark hair fell languidly over her shoulders, the way her lips twitched into a hesitant smile, how her eyes glistened with a palpable passion. It was almost as if he was looking at a direct reflection of a memory. One he would’ve preferred to remain lost to time.

I need to get to this fish cake shop. Jaebum reminded himself. More importantly, I need to get the hell out of here.

Gathering his runaway thoughts, he started down the busy street, doing his best to avoid the mysterious woman. She was a reminder that he couldn’t afford to fall back into the hole that Seohyun cast him into. The man that loved Seohyun wasn’t one that Jaebum admired. In fact, he was a man that Jaebum tried time and time again to erase. And, until that exact moment, he thought he was doing a fair job of it.

“Get your fish cakes here! Best around!”

Jaebum’s ears perked up at the shouting vendor, appreciating the distraction more than he cared to admit. Besides, his head was in a complete haze ever since he spotted that woman. He wouldn’t have been able to find the shop on his own even if he ran right into the door. Which he practically did. The control Seohyun still had over him terrified him to no end. And he had only seen a woman who looked like her, it wasn’t even her. He shuttered to imagine what would’ve happened if she was really there. Whispering in his ear, her hands gliding up his body, the curves of her body beneath him—

“Jaebum…”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaebum willed her husky voice away. The shivers that travelled down his spine—he had to ignore them. He had to get away from her. Ducking into the shop, he quickly purchased the fish cakes and left without a word to the clerk. He feared his own voice, feared how it would betray him. The only thing that mattered to him was getting to the bar and as far away from her as possible.

Without really paying attention to where he was going, Jaebum shouldered past someone and sent them stumbling backwards. Unconsciously, he reached out to steady them, taking hold of their wrist and pulling them in close to him before realizing who it was. It was her. Her. Her slender wrists were within his grasp, her dark eyes looked up at him in surprise, and coherent thought evaded him.

“Thanks!” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “I really should look where I’m going.”

At that close distance she looked even more like Seohyun. Jaebum didn’t think it was physically possible, but the proof was right in front of him. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, taking him back to a time when her fragrance was the only thing between them. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, he tried to respond, he tried to say anything that could distract himself from her lips. Her perfectly shaped cherry red lips…

Brushing her hair over her shoulder, she offered him a dangerous look. “Not much of a talker, are you?”

Jaebum never made it to the bar that night.

He woke up the next morning tangled in sheets that weren’t his own. Lying beside him was the woman who unknowingly unravelled every effort he had made to forget about Seohyun. She made him painfully aware that his previous beliefs were nothing more than optimistic delusions. Jaebum hadn’t moved past her, not even in the slightest. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

As was customary after every one night stand he stumbled into, he quickly pulled his clothes back on and quietly left her apartment without bothering to wake her. He called for a taxi, pointedly ignoring all of the angry texts and numerous voicemails left by Jinyoung as he made his way home. Jaebum wasn’t in the mood to explain himself. Ironically enough, all he wanted to do was drink. He settled for a silent ride through the city that was supposed to save him from himself, but he was beyond saving.

Days passed and he couldn’t shake the memory of Seohyun’s lookalike beneath him. She was a rarity, an anomaly that wandered into his life without any sort of warning. And as easily as she traipsed through his thoughts, she was gone. Frankly that was his own fault, he did it for his own good but it didn’t matter to him. He wanted her, he wanted more, his body ached for her in a way that was all too familiar. He sat at his desk, fists clenched in rage, hating himself for falling back into his old ways. All he wanted was a life without Seohyun, he wasn’t sure it was possible anymore.

At first, he was determined to stay away from her. He willed his thoughts and memories to the back of his mind, trying to get on with his life once more. But it wasn’t so simple. He found himself back on that street corner without realizing how he got there just a few nights later. Diligently looking for the cherry red lips that stained his own and drove him wild.

He would always find his way back to her.

“Did you miss me?”

She came up beside him with a coy smirk, she already knew his answer.

“Still not much of a talker, are you?”

Soon after they would wind up in bed again, as it was slowly becoming their routine. Jaebum had never felt more connected to a complete stranger, someone who could’ve easily gone through life without ever meeting him. He had Seohyun back, in some way. Like a ghost from the past letting him have one last glance at what could’ve been. He could’ve been happy, he was happy. Now he didn’t know what he was. All he knew was her because that was all he wanted to know. And he wanted to know more. 

On the first day he learned her lips, on the second day he learned her name.

On the third day she learned his.

“Jae...” She breathed beneath him, desperate for him as he was for her. “Please…”

He loved how she said his name. It pained him that he couldn’t say hers.

“Jae.” She tested on her tongue. “You called me Seohyun again.”

He watched absentmindedly as her delicate fingers dusted over his skin, offering nothing more than a quiet, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She mused. “I just need to know, someone you’re running from or running to?”

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

“Both.”

She visibly winced at his honesty. “Well, I hope I can help with that a little.”

And she did. Her lips pressed against his jaw as her hand slid down his abdomen, he hissed in response and took her in his arms. She was—magic. The second his mind would be occupied by thoughts of Seohyun she would pull him in with her own hypnotic gaze, letting him forget about the woman that brought them together in the first place. It didn’t last for long, but the reprieve was appreciated nevertheless.

On the fourth day he called her Seohyun again. The fifth day was the same.

On the sixth day he said her name and she smiled.

He lost track of the days after that.

The moment their relationship stopped being casual and became something more wasn’t entirely obvious to Jaebum. One day he simply woke up and instead of hoping to see her again soon he decided that soon wasn’t enough. They started to see each other every single day, some of those days didn’t end up in bed either. Maybe that’s when he noticed that she was more to him than he originally intended. Maybe that’s when he knew he was doomed to be in love with Seohyun for the rest of his life. Forever seeking her out in the woman he had hoped would make him forget.

One morning when she was gathering her things, giving Jaebum the space he had so foolishly convinced himself he needed, he asked her to stay. So she stayed. He couldn’t ever remember things with Seohyun being so simple. Seohyun was a woman that made Jaebum fight for every inch, beg for every moment, he was addicted to her and didn’t realize how quickly she was killing him. While he didn’t want to admit it, the moment she left him was probably the kindest thing she had ever done.

But she was perfect and he still loved her.

He hated himself, as he spent more time with her and could only see Seohyun in her eyes, he hated himself. He had hoped that they would separate, that he would see her for her and not for the woman he hated and loved all at once. Because she was perfect just as Seohyun was, all he had to do was wait for the inevitable. Either he would get fed up with her or she would realize the truth. She would learn that she was a replacement for someone that wasn’t worth replacing. Someone he evidently couldn’t let go.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind.” She whispered, dusting her fingers over his arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

What hurt him most, was that she loved him. She loved him. Not some version of him that only existed as a ghost in her mind, as a lie she couldn’t give up. She loved him for exactly who he was. A man who looked at her and saw another, who reached for her everyday, who was haunted by a touch that was forever ingrained in his skin. He was disgusted by the man she loved, by himself. But if he ever told her the truth, he knew it would break her heart.

Break her like Seohyun destroyed him.

And then she would be gone.

So he would continue to lie to her, betray her no matter how much his own words tore him up inside. A sensation that was all too familiar, one he knew better than most after knowing Seohyun for as long as he did. Ironically, he was just like her. Selfish to the very end. 

“I’m alright.” He lied easily as always.

Except she wasn’t convinced, not in the slightest. She had never been convinced of his lies, he could tell just by looking at her that she was enduring his facade as much as he was. Pretending to be fooled so they could continue in blissful ignorance. Because she knew his heart better than even he did, a heart that had long since been locked away. Because she loved him despite everything that he was. And everything that he wasn’t.

It was close to their anniversary when he decided that enough was enough. She had introduced him to her friends, her parents, and he had done the same. Their lives had become intertwined to a point that severing their ties could only result in a catastrophic mess. He had to come clean, he had to put his heart at ease and end the nightmare he almost believed was a dream. He had to let Seohyun go, he had to let her go. Once and for all he had to free himself from her grasp and break a heart that belonged to a woman whose only mistake was running into a man in a fish cake shop.

“I don’t love you anymore, Jaebum. I’m sorry.”

His heart ached as he thought about that day, hated how much his own actions would soon imitate that very moment. Looking at someone who loved you with everything that they had and telling them that it was all over. That you never loved them. That everything was a lie. That you were nothing but a monster.

God I need a drink.

So to put a bit of distance between them, to gather his thoughts, he went to the bar that technically started it all. He ordered his usual drink, he pretended to watch a game that didn’t interest him, and he sat in silence as the moments ticked by. Every now and again the bartender would try to strike up a conversation, but after being ignored for the fifth time he finally gave up. Jaebum wasn’t in the mood to pretend to be a decent human being, it was taking every concerted effort he could afford to keep himself from falling apart at the seams.

And despite the fact that he had been sitting at the bar with two fingers of scotch in front of him for nearly an hour, he had yet to take a single sip. He kept swirling it in his hand instead, using it more as a distraction from his rampant thoughts than a means to soothe his agitated nerves. As much as he wanted to get the whole ordeal over with, he couldn’t get drunk. He had been selfish enough in the past year, he had to endure the next few hours sober because she deserved more than what she was given. She deserved more respect than he had ever offered her. And he deserved the misery he was destined for.

Once a couple of hours had passed, he decided it was time to face her. She would be starting dinner soon and he didn’t want her to waste her time. Not when he was going to be effectively kicking her out of his life forever. With a sigh, he put on his jacket to leave and pushed his untouched drink back towards the bartender. Then, a young woman took a seat beside him.

“Why don’t you let me join you for a drink?” She hummed seductively. “You’re looking a little stressed.”

 For fucks sake. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He returned without looking at her. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Apparently she wasn’t giving up so easily. “Is that anyway to talk to a pretty girl like me?”

Glancing at her, he wasn’t impressed. “Sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be. Drink by yourself if you’re so inclined.”

As he stood to leave, she took a firm grasp of his arm. “Jaebum? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Are you really that cruel?”

He rolled his eyes at her continued pathetic attempts. “You even learned my name, wow. How long have you been watching me?”

Turning back to look at her, he realized there was something familiar about her. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But that didn’t matter to him.

“Seriously, I’m not on the market.” He persisted. “Good day.”

“Jaebum!” She shouted in disbelief. “Do you seriously not recognize me? We dated for three fucking years, I feel like I’m owed more than a cold shoulder. Or are you the complete asshole you’ve always been?”

A chill ran down his spine.

“Don’t just stand there!”

No… it—it can’t be… that voice... 

“Say something!”

Seohyun?

Realization dawned on him, stomach acid rose in his throat. It had to be her, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind after hearing her say that. Those words, nearly those exact words were seared into his soul ages ago. That voice berated him for years. There was no way he would ever mistake that voice for anyone else. But—she didn’t look like the Seohyun he remembered. The mere sight of her didn’t drive him mad, he didn’t have to fight back the urge to throw himself at her feet. She was Seohyun without the best and the worst parts of her.

She wasn’t the woman he loved.

Not anymore.

“Wow…” He exhaled with a smile. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you.”

Which, now that the initial shock had worn off, he realized that she was the exact same. Painfully so. Her nails were freshly manicured, her hair and makeup were set perfectly in place, her clothes were fresh off the runway, she was Seohyun in every sense of the word. Perfectly plucked from time and placed in front of him. She was everything he thought he loved. Before he learned what love really looked like. And god it didn’t look like her.

“And you haven’t changed at all.” She huffed. “Still the rude asshole I dumped forever ago. I can’t believe I doubted myself for a second there, spotting you across the bar made it seem like the good old times. But I really made the right call, didn’t I?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You really did. Goodbye, Seohyun. Thanks for everything.”

She scoffed as he left. “Yeah, whatever.”

After that, Jaebum didn’t hesitate. He took off running for the bus stop, desperate to get home to a woman that he had loved for a whole year and just didn’t know it. He had been so sure that the love he felt for her was just a projection, that she only reminded him of Seohyun so that was the only reason he loved her. Never in all his life had he been happier to be wrong.

I love her… He chanted in his head, over and over again. I love her!

Once he got home, he burst through the door and stopped immediately when he saw her standing there. How had he never noticed before? She was beautiful, she was perfect, she was the woman he loved with his whole heart and he was a fool for not knowing sooner. She made him laugh, she made him smile, she made him forget about Seohyun a hundred times and even wiped her from his heart forever. And he was the idiot who thought it was all a lie.

“What’s wrong, Jaebum?” She asked innocently. “Is something on your mind?”

“Yes.” He confirmed easily, approaching her slowly and taking her hands in his. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of soul searching this past year, trying to make sense of my feelings for you. And I think I finally know what my brain has been telling me since the very beginning.”

There was a nervous glint to her eyes, but she played along. “What would that be?”

“That I love you.” He smiled. “I love you for being you and no one else.”

Those words, those simple words that wouldn’t make any sense to someone else, made her face light up like a fireworks display. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest, overwhelmed with a feeling he knew all too well. For the first time in four years, Jaebum could breathe. A huge weight had lifted from his shoulders, the ghost of Seohyun was finally gone. He was free.

“I love you too…” She mumbled. “I’ve loved you for so long…”

“I know.” He whispered gently, tilting her chin up and kissing her gently. “And I will thank you everyday for waiting for me.”

[cakesunflower]

Just My Kind [Teacher!Calum AU] Part 3

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2

           The cool, salty rim of the glass remained pressed against Odessa’s lips as she watched the boys. Ashton’s drums were set a few feet in front of the stool, with Michael, Luke, and Calum all standing in front with their own instruments, playing beautiful songs that they had written on their own. She was kind of blown away, sitting on the backyard couch as she listened to them perform under the blanket of the night sky, the stars glittering above them and the blue hue of the pool lights only adding on to the blissful atmosphere Odessa had easily gotten lost in.

           They were good—like, really good, beyond Odessa’s expectations. And as she sipped the margarita Crystal had made her, Odessa couldn’t help the way her gaze seemed to flicker over just a couple of centimeters to solely watch Calum. She’d let her eyes linger on the way he’d sing into the microphone, the movement of his fingers on the strings of his gorgeous red bass. But it was his voice that captivated Odessa completely, had her forgetting to take sips of the delicious drink Crystal had made her. When Calum sang, his voice was simultaneously smooth and held a rasp that threatened to send shivers down her spine, utterly mesmerizing her where she sat and entranced as she listened attentively.

           From the slow ballads that tugged at her heartstrings too closely to the more upbeat songs that made her want to get on her feet, Odessa genuinely enjoyed listening to them, head bopping or swaying, feeling the need to mouth along to the lyrics she had never heard before. And there were definitely moments, ones she hadn’t expected, when her eyes would meet Calum’s from where she sat and his lips would curl up even more. Odessa wanted to assume it was only because he was singing, but she couldn’t ignore the way his smile reached his eyes.

           “So what’d you think?” Luke asked Odessa after, the band receiving a round of applause  when they had finished, as he reached for the bottle of beer Sierra was offering him. “Are we your new favorite band?”

           Odessa scoffed in amusement, raising her eyebrows as she pointed out, “No one will ever top Cigarettes After Sex, but you’re adorable for assuming.” He stuck his tongue out as the rest of them erupted into laughter, and Odessa grinned before continuing honestly, “Seriously, though—you guys are incredible. I’m impressed.”

           “I think if you see us play enough, we’ll become your favorite,” Ashton quipped, nodding with his lips puckered in assurance that only had Odessa laugh once more.

           “The man’s got a point,” Calum spoke up, raising a pointed eyebrow at Odessa as he stood across from her in their little group. His lips quirked in a sly smirk as he continued, “If your favorite band isn’t your work-husband’s, then we’ve got a problem on our hands, Essa.”

           She couldn’t help but roll her smiling lips into her mouth, shaking her head at him in amusement. Odessa was all too aware of the little jump her heart did when the nickname slipped past Calum’s lips—it was the first time he’d used it, likely hearing Luke use it before, and Odessa found herself liking the way it rolled off his tongue. But she ignored it. As always.

           “I’m sorry—work-what?” Paige cut in with a bewildered laugh, looking between the two of them with raised eyebrows. The smile on her face though, Odessa could tell, was strained, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Paige’s eye started twitching. Apparently she couldn’t even take a joke when it came to Calum’s fake relationship.

           Odessa pressed her lips together, glancing up at Luke who shot her a blank look, apparently being the only other person who caught the true intent of Paige’s question. At least Odessa wasn’t alone in that. Calum, though, chuckled and easily answered, “Yeah, we established today in the cereal aisle of Ralph’s that we’re married at work.” At the looks he received from the rest of the group and snort of amusement from Odessa, Calum shrugged and waved them off. “You had to be there.”

           One look at the subtle narrowing of Paige’s eyes and Odessa knew she wasn’t satisfied with his words, was yearning to dig for more, but the conversation had quickly shifted and the moment was lost. Thank God.

           The party continued on with Michael returning to his makeshift DJ stand, and Odessa enjoyed the company of her friends and new people she met just tonight in the open backyard of Michael and Crystal’s house. Their dogs were also running around, adorable little pups excited by the people that were around. She felt relaxed, sipping her drinks and getting to know everyone, never one to miss an opportunity of petting Moose or South as they scurried by.

           At one point, as she sat at the edge of the pool, bare feet dangling in the water as she sat in between KayKay and some other girls she’d met tonight, Odessa’s gaze wandered around the area. As she sipped at her White Claw, she caught sight of Calum through the people lingering around, and Odessa watched as he remained completely enthralled by Moose’s company. She continuing sipping her drink in attempt to hide her smile and laugh, gaze locked on the way Moose licked at Calum’s face and his wide grin as his hands rubbed through her curly fur.

           Odessa dropped her gaze to her feet, pale pink painted toes warped under the water as she attempted to push admiring thoughts of him out of her head and focus on whatever conversation the women she was sitting with were having. Even in her own head, Odessa felt like a hypocrite, telling herself she couldn’t, shouldn’t, have any kinds of feelings towards Calum, even if they were that of a mere budding crush, and yet she proceeded to keep looking for him, admiring him, feeling her skin flush because of him. It was a dangerous game she was playing with herself—one she could feel she was losing.

           It was just a little after one in the morning when Odessa exited one of the downstairs bathrooms, the others occupied, and ended up bumping into Calum. She let out a soft exclaim, feeling a bit wobbly on her feet, letting out a breath when Calum grasped her upper arms to keep her on her feet. “You good?” Calum chuckled gently, raising his eyebrows as he looked down at her.

           Odessa nodded, blue eyes meeting his brown, thankful for some of the alcohol that rushed through her veins that nearly numbed her to the burn of his touch. He was so tall—not as tall as Luke, though Odessa hadn’t meant anyone who was, save for Grandpa—but tall enough that his figure loomed over hers and she liked it. “Yeah,” she let out a short breathless laugh. Running her fingers through her straight hair, she added, “I think, uh, I’m gonna head out, though.”

           Calum’s eyebrows furrowed as his hands dropped from her, and Odessa focused on his words rather than the loss of his touch as he asked, “You’re not drivin’, are you?”

           “No,” Odessa scoffed, shooting him a look. She hadn’t driven there in the first place, getting a ride from Crystal since she’d been by Odessa’s house around the time and had picked her up on the way back home. “I’m gonna call an Uber.”

           Clicking his tongue, obviously displeased with the idea, Calum suggested, “Let me give you a ride, yeah?”

           Odessa felt her lips curl upwards, raising an eyebrow at him as she giggled lightly. Music was still playing outside where most everyone was, but it was muffled inside the house. “You take this work-husband thing seriously, huh?”

           The words had slipped and even though she wasn’t entirely sober, Odessa still felt the need to cringe at her words, a voice in her head telling her to shut up. But it was far, nearly unheard, so she ignored it as Calum grinned. “That—and being a good friend in general. Come on, I haven’t drank in hours. I don’t mind.”

           He added the last bit upon seeing Odessa part her lips to protest, and she merely closed her mouth before letting out a small laugh in acceptance. She knew he hadn’t drank in hours, had only stuck to beer when he had drank earlier. And that had been hours ago, plenty of time to sober up. She would be lying if she said she was more comfortable taking an Uber home at one in the morning in Los Angeles than getting a ride from Calum. But before she could accept the offer, something was itching at the back of Odessa’s mind, a thought her head was begging for her to remember, until it clicked just as quickly.

           Hadn’t Paige made some sort of comment about going home with Calum? Odessa chewed on the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially Paige’s because she’d get blamed for a broken foot, but surely if Calum was offering Odessa a ride home, then he hadn’t arrived with the expectation of going home with Paige. And if he had, he certainly didn’t still feel that way. But was a ride home worth the potential jabs from, or maybe even wrath of, Paige?

           Odessa determined that she was going to accept Calum’s offer for her own safety. She didn’t particularly trust Uber drivers in big cities—especially since she wasn’t entirely sober. Paige would just have to deal with it.

           “Yeah, I’d appreciate it. Thanks, Calum,” Odessa finally accepted, her words being responded with a grin.

           They quickly made their rounds after, saying goodnight to everyone, thanking Michael and Crystal for having them over as Calum grabbed the case his bass was in in his hand. As they did so, Odessa couldn’t help but notice that Paige wasn’t around, maybe in the bathroom, but neither she nor Calum waited around for her before leaving the house and getting in his black Range Rover. It smelled nice, his car. A mix of Calum’s cologne and leather and some kind of air freshener that all came together in a pleasant combination that had her closing her her eyes briefly and resting her head back after telling Calum her address.

           There was a comfortable silence that had settled in the car, save for the music softly playing through the speakers as Calum drove. Odessa found herself breaking it as she said, “You guys were really good. I had no idea you could sing like that.”

           Calum glanced at her, features shadowed under the occasionally gleaming light of the street lamps and buildings they passed, but the smile on his face was a soft image with the help of the glow of the dashboard. “Just one of my many talents,” he joked gently, his voice as quiet as hers, neither wanting to disrupt the comfort of the overall silence.

           He was kidding, but Odessa agreed with him.

           There had been something nostalgic about listening to the boys play tonight, especially during their slower ballads, and as Odessa’s gaze wandered back out the windshield, the unfiltered thoughts spilled past her mouth without much consideration. “My dad used to play songs for us. My mom and I.”

           She could feel Calum glance at her, one hand on the steering wheel, elbow resting on the console separating them. “Oh yeah?” he asked, the upward tilt in his voice showing his curiosity.

           “Yeah,” Odessa answered, her throat dry as her lips twisted to the side. Her eyebrows knitted together, fighting the words from escaping her, knowing they’d make things awkward and tense unnecessarily.

           “Why’d he stop?”

           Odessa’s lips puckered thoughtfully, head still tilted back, the lights passing by in blurs as she scoffed lightly. “He decided he wanted to play for a new family.”

           Her jaw tightened as soon as she uttered those words, inhaling sharply, quietly, as she chastised herself for dropping something so personal out of nowhere. She could blame it on the alcohol, but both Odessa and Calum knew she hadn’t drank enough to not be in total control of her words, and her face felt hot with an embarrassed flush as she looked out the window in hopes of completely obstructing her view of Calum. What was wrong with her? Talking about her father, the man who left and her mother when she was fifteen to be with a woman he’d been having an affair with, who lived just outside of their small town, with a little girl who was Odessa’s half-sister.

           For too long Odessa had resented them—all of them. Until she couldn’t be bothered with the amount of energy it took to keep up with it. So she just stopped. She stopped caring. Became hollow in that situation. Which was why she never allowed herself to think about it for too long, afraid of the anger and bitterness that would come rushing back.

           “I’m sorry,” she whispered through a small, embarrassed laugh. She gave a shake of her head, too humiliated to look at Calum. If only she could keep her mouth shut. “That was—unnecessary. Sorry.”

           Calum had already began protesting halfway through her apology, giving a shake of his head as he assured, “No, no—don’t apologize, alright?” His gentle tone had Odessa glancing at him, saw him shoot her a small, reassuring smile that had her chest tightening. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine. But, like—I’m here if you do, yeah? Just want you to know that, uh—” Calum let out a soft, almost sheepish chuckle that had her gazing at him gently, curiously. “If I can be someone you can talk to about these things, then I’m there.”

           The air was trapped in her lungs and Calum wasn’t making it any easier to not like him. He wanted to be someone she could talk to? She looked at him as he looked towards the road, but Odessa didn’t miss the subtle way he chewed on his lower lip and she wondered if he felt nervous telling her that, the way she felt in awe he would even think to offer. The gesture was beyond sweet, undeniably kind, one that threatened to melt Odessa on the spot.

           He was kind, more so than any man she’d ever met. So Odessa smiled, effortlessly, and responded, “Thank you. I—The feeling’s mutual.”

           Calum glanced at her then, lips curling upwards in a soft smile, which Odessa returned because she was being honest. If he wanted to be there for her, she wanted to be there for him. And maybe that only teased the dangerous game she was playing with herself, but how could Odessa turn away from him? Especially when he smiled at her like that? A smile that was soft on his lips and his eyes that was enough to leave everyone breathless, she felt.

           Her phone buzzed in her lap then, and Odessa unlocked it to see a message from Luke, biting the inside of her lower lip to keep a scoff from escaping.

I can totally tell Paige is pissed that Cal left with you without even saying anything to her. Help. I’m not sober enough to not laugh in her face.

           Odessa raised a hand to rub at her forehead with her fingers, biting back the smile that strained to upturn her lips. Paige’s reaction wasn’t funny, per se, as more expectant. She wanted to roll her eyes, to tell Luke to tell Paige to shut up because clearly Calum wasn’t as bothered as she was. But Odessa knew better. Knew it was none of her business even though she was, without really trying to, being inserted in whatever narrative existed between Calum and Paige. If there even was one. Odessa wasn’t sure.

           At this point, she didn’t really have a good grasp on anything.

*****

           “Have a good weekend, everyone. I’ll see you Monday,” Odessa smiled, getting multiple responses in return as her students shuffled out of the classroom right when the last bell of the day rang. She was going to stick around to get a head start on some grading, and as she shut the Smart Board off, one of her students approached her.

           “Hey, Ms. K.,” Donny Crane said as he walked towards her desk, hands grasping the straps of his black backpack. “Are you coming to our game after school? Coach said you were.”

           Odessa raised an eyebrow at the sophomore, feeling an amused smile tug at her lips as she took in his words. Donny was on the boys varsity soccer team, and Odessa was well aware there was a game an hour after school got out. Odessa had promised Calum a while back that she’d check out a game, and it had been nearly two months since she started and she had yet to attend. And with Donny, a boy quite taller than her, asked, a hopeful grin on his face, Odessa easily gave in. Not just because Calum was telling them that she was attending.

           “Yeah, of course,” Odessa told him, smiling knowingly. “Coach says the team looks great this year—I gotta check that out myself.”

           “Awesome,” Donny grinned, walking backwards to the door. “See you there, Ms. K!”

           She laughed after him as she settled in her chair, looking at the pile of papers she had to grade. She would be able to get through a handful, maybe more, until she had to go to the game, so she didn’t waste time in getting started. Odessa was an expert in not allowing herself to get distracted when grading work, especially papers her students took time in writing, and so the next hour flew by far quicker than she’d anticipated. Putting the papers in a folder before gathering her things, Odessa left her classroom and headed towards the main office, signing out for the day and bidding goodbye to the secretaries still inside before heading out.

           The parking lot was by the soccer field, so Odessa put the bag full of work in her car before heading over to the field, where she saw many people already gathered. A school bus was parked nearby, its label that of a different school, and Odessa saw their school’s team and the visitors’ doing practice drills on the field while everyone else waited for the game to start. A gentle breeze danced through her dark hair, the sun bright above them as Odessa folded the sleeves of her cropped denim jacket as she got to the bleachers and sat towards the front.

           As people around her chattered with each other, Odessa narrowed her eyes slightly behind her sunglasses, catching sight of Calum on the other side of the field. Black track pants replaced the jeans he had been wearing earlier, and she watched as he did some foot work with a soccer ball while animatedly talking to two of the players standing by him, watching him.

           And when the game began, of course Odessa would watch the team, track their movements with her eyes. But she would also allow her gaze to innocently, occasionally, glance back to her friend the coach, because just like with a bass or in front of a Smart Board, Calum was in his element on the other side of the field, too. Even from a distance, Odessa could see the utter concentration furrowing his eyebrows as he watched the boys play, making gestures and shouting things Odessa couldn’t hope to understand—or hear, really, not with the cheers of everyone she was surrounded by as the boys scored a goal or defended their own.

           When Calum had mentioned a while back that the team was looking great this year, he hadn’t been kidding. Soccer was one of the very few sports Odessa kind of understood, but just by watching them for the first time, she was impressed. It sort of swelled her teacher’s pride, given that a few of the boys were in her classes, knowing she was teaching many intelligent, talented students. It only added onto her comfort of teaching in Los Angeles, another win for her for accepting the job and moving out of bumfuck, Nevada despite her big city hesitation.

           The game had been exciting, with Odessa letting out cheers of her own and clapping along in support of their team, a grin on her face when it was over and they had won. After the teams had shaken hands and dispersed after Calum gave them a quick talk, breaking off with a clap, Odessa got off the bleachers and wandered across the field. She wasn’t the only one, a bunch of others heading over to talk to the players, and Odessa offered Calum a smile when he glanced her way while in the middle of conversing with a couple of parents.

           She waited patiently, passing the few moments talking to Donny and another boy on the team she taught, Jude. Calum wandered over shortly after, grinning triumphantly as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair, “You made it to a game—and a good one, too.”

           “Yeah, finally,” Odessa laughed in agreement. “I was just telling the boys I was impressed with what I saw.”

           “As I said you would be,” Calum shrugged, not at all modest with the half smirk that played on his lips. Then, with a jut of his chin, Calum added, “The team and I are heading out for some celebratory pizza—you’re more than welcome to join.”

           Odessa’s eyebrows raised, the invitation unexpected as her lips parted. “Oh, uh,” she stammered, a short nervous chuckle escaping her as she played with the bracelet on her wrist. With a shake of her head, she said, “I don’t want to impose—it should just be you and the team, right?”

           Before Calum could respond, Jude spoke up with a grin, “Nah, Ms. Kline—you should definitely come with.”

           With a laugh, Donny added, “Yeah, Coach could definitely use the company of a grown up when he’s with all of us.”

           Despite the grin fighting its way to Odessa’s lips, and the roll of Calum’s eyes, Odessa pointed out to the two younger boys, “We’re barely ten years older than you.” She took a breath then, blue eyes meeting Calum’s brown as she raised her eyebrows and asked, “You sure it’s fine?” Honestly, she could really go for some pizza right now. She was starving.

           Calum’s smirk returned, looking as boyish as the two students, yet in a complete league of his own as he told Odessa, “I’m buyin’.”

           Around twenty minutes later, thanks to Los Angeles traffic, Odessa was sitting at a small table with Calum at a pizza place near the school, the boys from the team scattered around at different tables around them, loud and talkative like the heart of the place. Odessa didn’t think much of Calum sitting across from her as he enjoyed his slices of vegetarian pizza while she ate her extra cheese and jalapeño peppers ones, reminding herself of the innocence of this invitation.

           At least, that’s what she was hoping. It was difficult enough to battle whatever feelings for Calum were swimming in the depths of her heart, telling herself time and time again that she needed to keep her mouth shut, heart calm, and thoughts pushed back. And, God, there were so many moments where Odessa tried to talk herself out of it, questioned if she was really that afraid of Paige that she would keep whatever feelings she may have to herself. But every thought was countered with the reminder that Calum wasn’t just someone Paige had a territorial and—in Odessa’s quiet opinion—unjustified claim on, but was also her coworker, someone who had so effortlessly become such a good friend. It was just like when she had met Luke, instantly clicking with her blonde across-the-hall neighbor during the first day of her junior year in college. That’s how she reminded herself of it.

           Except Odessa was painfully aware that Luke had always just been a platonic friend of hers. Calum didn’t feel as such in her disillusioned head. She tried—and failed—not to think about it.

           Right now, though, Odessa was hoping was just innocent. Was hoping that Calum only invited her to get pizza with him and the team because they were good friends outside of work. She hoped he’d invited other teachers out like this before her so rumors didn’t circulate about her joining them. Odessa knew the functions of high school, knew even teachers weren’t safe from high school gossip. She didn’t want this to be made into a big deal when her running mind was already trying to dissect every inch of it.

           “So have you thought of a Halloween costume yet?”

           Calum’s voice pulled Odessa out of her thoughts effortlessly, watching as he raised a dark eyebrow to go along with his question. He sipped the soda through a straw but his brown eyes never left Odessa, waiting for an answer. “Uh, no, not yet, actually. I haven’t decided what iconic character I want to do yet,” she answered with a light laugh.

           Halloween was approaching and Odessa had been pleased to know that all students and teachers were encouraged to dress up. It fell on a Friday this year, and Odessa figured she’d just wear her costume for school to the party Luke and Sierra were throwing.

           “Yeah, I haven’t either,” Calum clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. As he picked up a pepper that had fallen onto the plate from the slice, gaze on it thoughtfully as the chain bracelet he wore on his tattooed wrist glinted against the lights above. Odessa caught the moment Calum’s eyes widened, a grin on his lips that clearly read of an expression that he’d just gotten an idea. “How would you feel about, like, pairing up for the costumes? We could be a notable couple from any piece of literature.” Smile turning into a smirk, too charming for his own good, he added, “We’d really step up as work-husband-and-wife.”

           Odessa laughed at that, but his idea circled her brain for a minute. She shouldn’t really consider the idea, knew it would only serve to dig her into a deeper hole, but Odessa couldn’t lie—it sounded like a fun thing to do. A bunch of other teachers, Odessa knew, were pairing up for costumes—the gym teachers all had a group one—so it wouldn’t be too out of the blue if two English teachers dressed up as a fictional couple. Odessa could do this—it would be totally professional and platonic.

           “That’s not a bad idea,” she finally conceded, chuckling when Calum’s grin widened, showing off the soft lines of the crinkles by his eyes, willing herself not to lose her breath at the sight of it. “As for the costumes. . .” She trailed off, letting her brain turn as she thought of potential ideas. There was one that immediately sprouted in her mind, and Odessa willed her racing heart as she finally looked back at him and slowly suggested, “How would you feel about Pride and Prejudice?”

           A classic novel, one for the ages, Odessa felt. She wondered if Calum did, too.

           His grin remained, nodding his head as he folded his arms on the table, ever so slightly leaning forward with his gaze locked on Odessa’s. With a tilt of his head and a low rasp in his voice, Calum concluded, “Think you just found the Mr. Darcy to your Elizabeth Bennett.”

           The hole was definitely getting a little bit deeper.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @loveroflrh @astroashtonio @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist​ @vxlentinecal​ @pettybassists​ @vaporshawn​ @lu-my-golden-boi​ @visualm3nte​ @dontjinx-it​ @lifeakaharry​ @neonweeknds​ @antisocialbandmate​ @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave​ @calpalbby​ @grreatgooglymoogly​ @sunnysidesblog​ @miahelizaaabeth​ @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @wildflower-cth​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @gosh-im-short​ @thesubtweeter​ @mycollectionofnuts​ @cthwldflwr​ @everyscarisahealingplace​ @socorroann​ @talkfastromance4​ @calumftduke​ @musichoney​ @treatallwithkindness​ @partlysunnycal​ 

[hockeyboysiguess]

Countdown

a/n: what’s up everyone? i’m new in town because i found one stupid hockey boy which led me to another and you know how it goes. let me know if you want me to continue writing!

warnings: some swearing, a little bit of drinking.

Your feet were killing you, and you’d definitely had a couple more than you set out to have when the night started, but it was New Year’s Eve, you told yourself. It was the kind of night you could have a little too much. You rocked a little forward on your heels, trying to relieve some of the pressure on the arches of your feet, but it threw you off balance. Luckily, Mat was there with a steady arm to keep you to your feet. You could’ve done without the chirping that immediately followed the incident.

“You know, you could just take the shoes off if they’re bothering you that much,” he said, with a laugh edging at each word as he spoke.

“I’ve definitely explained this to you before,” you sighed. “You look at the shoe, you look at your feet, you tell yourself that your shoes and your feet are married tonight and nothing in the world will separate you. You can’t get divorced after two hours, would look bad for my next husband.”

“You are more committed to those shoes than you were with your last boyfriend,” Mat retorts, never the one to stop the banter first.

“He couldn’t support me like these babies can.” You point your toes and jut one foot out for emphasis, “He didn’t make my legs look this killer either.”

Mat rolled his eyes at you and laughed, a constant combination in your friendship that had become one of the most crucial in your life this past year. You’d met him towards the beginning of the year, and you got along instantly due to your identical senses of humor. Your friendship solidified with his willingness to try practically every restaurant in New York City with you and the fact that you always let him be the DJ whenever you were together. You tried to go through the timeline of your friendship, trying to find the moment something shifted and he stopped being your friend Mat and started being the reason you said no to dates with other guys when they approached you and why you refused to let any of you other friends set you up with anyone. You glanced over at the clock to distract yourself from your thoughts, 11:50pm. Ten minutes to midnight.

“Hey, I was just thinking about the day we met,” Mat told you, a smile on his face carrying over to yours as you remembered the first time you met him.

Ten.

- Months ago, you were at a party pretty similar to this where everyone was a little less dressed up and the alcohol was a lot worse. You were standing with two of your friends, debating on if you wanted to stay longer or head out to the bars when a ping pong ball landed in your cup.

“Hey! My buddy needs a partner for pong. Can you play? Doesn’t matter if you’re shit; he’s probably worse.”

You shrugged, said, “Why not?” and stepped up to the table next to him. You set your cup down on the table and turned to your new partner for the evening, “If I have to carry this team, now’s the time to let me know that you’re dead weight.”

His face was a little taken aback for a second, but then a wide smile formed across his face. He nodded softly.

“I like you,” he said. “You’re right, I am totally about to be dead weight. My name’s Mat by the way.”

You introduced yourself to him and proceeded to win the next two rounds of beer pong with Mat making three cups the entire time. You made fun of his accent. He pretended to be upset that you got away with breaking the elbows rule because you had boobs and they distracted Tito, but the distraction was to his advantage so he said he’d let the rule breaking slide as long as you promised to be his pong partner for the night. You agreed to take him on as charity case for the night if he tried a Thai-Greek fusion brunch with you tomorrow morning that none of your other friends we’re willing to go it. He took the deal and your friendship began.

Nine.

“– seasons of How I Met Your Mother? Jesus, is this even going to be worth it?” Mat complained

“Get the popcorn, sit down, and shut up,” you told him. “I cannot believe you haven’t seen this before. It’s a classic.

“Friends is a classic,” he sighs as he sits down on the couch, dropping the popcorn bowl between you. “This is a cheap imitation. Besides, I thought you would hate this. Isn’t Barney like very anti your whole super feminist thing or something and doesn’t Ted just suck?”

“If you don’t realize you have to take everything in this world with a grain of salt yet, then you are beyond help, Barzy.”

You binged it in under three weeks. While you’d lived the last episode premiering live with your family, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone as pissed off at the ending of the show than Mat was. Your sides hurt from laughing so much at his insane ranting about how they could have possibly done that to him, with all of the time he invested in this show. He took it personally and swore he’d never watch another episode again. You still couldn’t bring it up without making him start a whole diatribe. It was your party trick together even though Mat wasn’t quite in on the joke.

Eight.

- Days in Spain in June. Mat insisted on you joining him on his post season tour of Europe. By tour he meant never leaving Spain but going on a lot of wine tours and pretending he knew a lot about wine even though he couldn’t tell the difference between a three-hundred-dollar bottle of age merlot and a bottle of Barefoot if his life depended on it.

“Oh, isn’t this a fabulous red vintage?” Mat said to you, doing an impossibly bad British accent in an attempt to sound fancy. “I can taste floral,” he sipped the wine again, smacking his tongue against his lips loudly, “and citrus notes in this one. You’ll quite like it, madam.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you sang softly to him as you noticed the daggers he was getting from your tour guide.

Mat slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tight to him. You could feel his muscles tense under his thin t-shirt, and your breath caught in your throat. Some part of you had known he was attractive this whole time; you’d just never been forced to pay attention until this exact moment when you were pressed up against him. You pushed the thoughts to a far corner of your mind. This was your friend Mat and you didn’t need anything more than that from him. You didn’t want it, you told yourself.

Seven.

- Seconds left on the clock. You were pretty sure you hadn’t breathed for the last 5 minutes of the game and you were gripping your seat so hard that your knuckles were starting to go numb. The Islanders were down by one going into the last two minutes against Tampa Bay. Tito had scored to create a 3-3 game with just over a minute on the clock to play. You didn’t want this to go into overtime and neither did the guys. They wanted to complete the comeback win here and now.

You watched as Mat shifted the puck side to side on the ice. You saw him glance up at the clock for a brief second, then he looked back towards the net and he saw his shot. He took it without any hesitation. You were on your feet before the puck hit the back of the net. Mat was immediately engulfed by his teammates, swallowed up in a sea of blue and orange jerseys. His games practically gave you a heart attack, but you’d never turn him down if he asked you to come and he asked you to come a lot.

“Hey there, superstar,” you said, the smile in your voice obvious as you met Mat in the tunnel after he’d finished up his interviews and changed.

“Hey there,” he laughed, giving your shoulder a little shove

You looked around as you walked out with him. He was walking you through that final shot, second by second, but you couldn’t focus on his story. You saw the girlfriends, fiancées, and wives of the other players greeting their respective partners and for a split second you let yourself imagine that with Mat. You hadn’t really thought about it before, but as soon as let that wall down and the flood gates opened, and your feelings for Mat hit you square in the stomach. You wanted to be like them, have what they have, and for a split second, you let yourself want that with him. You wanted him to look at you like the other guys looked at their girlfriends and wives.

“Um, hello?” Mat’s large hang waving in front of your face pulled you out of your moment.

“Oh, sorry. Can you start over? I got a little sidetracked.”

“You okay?” he asked, concern coating the words and his brows furrowing.

“Super-duper, superstar. Try me again.”  

Six.

“-Entrées is way too many. Look, I know you’re practically a championship level competitive eater for fun, but this feels like an exercise of your skills we don’t need to practice.”

“Two things. One, calling pancakes an entrée is a little much. It’s just pancakes,” you retorted, “and two, they serve six different kinds of pancakes here, so I’m getting six kinds of pancakes. Join me or get the hell out.”

Mat’s nose scrunched up as he laughed at your response. God, you loved his laugh. You loved it most when you were responsible for it, not the girl he met at the bar last night who was definitely responsible for the marks peeking out from under his shirt. Seeing those when he sat down made you felt like all the air had left the room. You shrugged off your thoughts as best as you could. Mat wasn’t yours to be possessive of, but that didn’t make the pit in your stomach settle either. You took a sip of your orange juice as Mat’s laughter slowed.

“God, how do I still think you’re cool even though that was super lame?” he asked you, stealing your water since his hungover self practically chugged his when he arrived

“Barzy, some things in the world are magical and they’re better left unexplored and unexplained.”

“Like all women,” he said proudly, like he’d discovered something profound.

You rolled your eyes at him. Even when he was an idiot, you still wished he was your idiot and not some girl at the bar’s idiot, but you wouldn’t risk this. This friendship was too important to you to jeopardize for your stupid middle school girl pinning. You put your feelings back in the box they’d let themselves out of just as the pancakes arrived.

Five.

“You think you’d had five drinks tonight?” Your eyebrow is arched as you look back at an incredibly hammered Barzy. You knew he had to be at least eight deep, more like ten, but instead you said, “Are you sure it’s five?”

Mat nodded profusely, looking more like his bobblehead then himself in that moment. You turned your palms up at him and shrugged a bit, giving him a look of complete disbelief. He proudly put down his beer and yanked his sleeve up to show you his wrist. On his wrist were five incredibly smudged tally marks of various lengths. He hadn’t even managed to realize you were supposed to cross the last one across the other four for every set of five, so there were just five incredibly crooked lines drawn on his wrist in Sharpie.

“See? Five tally marks, five drinks,” he told you, like you were the idiot in this situation.

You nodded in fake understanding as an incredible drunk Mat reached for you. He was significantly touchier with you when he was drunk, his large hands always finding your skin and making a series of thoughts you shouldn’t have run through your brain as your heartbeat picked up in your chest. His hands rested on your upper arms this time as he lined himself up with you, forcing you to make eye contact.

“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about ol’ Barzy here,” he slurred.

“You’re twenty-two,” you laughed. “Hardly makes you an old man, my friend. Come on, I called an Uber. Let’s go.”

You took on of his hands from your arm and held it, dragging him slowly out of the party. He had the attention span of a golden retriever puppy when he was drunk, so it was a good thing you had some practice with this and started your journey to the car ten minutes before your Uber was supposed to arrive. By the time you made it outside, it was already waiting for you. You gave him one small shove and he practically fell right into the car.

“You know,” Mat told you as the car started to roll away from the party, “you’re a really good friend, ya know.”  

You smiled at him but turned your face away quickly as you felt the tears start to sting in your eyes. Maybe it’s the few drinks you’d had yourself, but Mat calling you a good friend was definitely supposed to feel good, but all it was make your heart clench inside your chest. It confirmed everything you were feeling. You and Mat were friends, good to great friends even, but that’s how he saw you, his friend. You never wanted to be the kind of person that complained about someone not liking them back, but you finally understood where everyone else was coming from. This feeling was awful in a way you couldn’t quite describe. It was like a hand had reached into you, found the place where your feelings for Mat where, and squeezed hard, except that hand wasn’t actually all too careful to target that one spot and instead squeezed everything inside your chest until you could barely catch your breath and the tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thank god that Mat had way more than five drinks and was already asleep against the opposite window because you couldn’t keep it together the entire ride home.

Four.

“You really want four dogs at once?” The disagreement coated Mat’s voice. “That’s a lot of dogs at once. I think you need to reconsider this part of your life plan.”

“Four is a very reasonable number,” you replied, not even bothering to look up from your phone. “And this is my twenty-year plan here, Mat, not yours. You don’t get a say.”

“I’m your best friend. I deserve a say here if I think you’re going to screw up part of your life,” he countered. “You’re going to be beholden to these creatures. And you’re gonna have four of them! They’re going to need you constantly. You’re not going to have time for anything else.”

“I do plan on like, having someone around at some point,” you reminded him. “Step nine of this plan was to find that man, finally, and one of the key criteria is that is likes dogs, so he’ll help share the workload.”

“And then you really only have two dogs,” Mat mumbles under his breath as he start to nod in understanding. “Okay, okay, I concede. You’re right, four is the correct number of dogs.”

You laughed in response to his agreement, “Now I’ve just got to find a man and convince him like I convinced you.”

“Took you all of a minute to get me on board with your plan here. I’d sign up to co-parent four dogs with you. You’re gonna be a killer pet parent. I’m sure you can get some other schmuck to agree with you. He’s not going to be as hot as me though, so that’s going to be a downgrade for you right there.” You didn’t let his words sink in. You let them flow right out of your head as soon as they came in. It was for the best, you told yourself.

Three.

- Hours into your co-worker’s engagement party and you were about ready to scream. If one more platter of engagement cookies with their initials and faces came past you, you were going to explode. The only reason you’d make it this long was Mat and the fact he tipped the bartender big time when you got your first drink, so he was making you doubles and triples when he was only supposed to pour singles at the open bar.

“This sucks,” you sighed to him, taking a swig of your drink.

“This party is fucking pathetic,” he said to you. “How are people this boring before they’re thirty? I just don’t understand. If I ever get engaged to someone who wants to have cookies with our faces on them at our engagement party, please shoot me.”

“I expect you to do the same if I ever think that’s a good idea,” you laughed as your spoke.

“You know what,” Mat paused only to down the remaining third of his drink in one go, “it’s time to blow this popsicle stand.”

“Jesus, Mat, they haven’t even made a toast yet or anything. We can’t leave yet,” you tried to remind him, even though it was completely half-assed since you might have been more miserable than him.

“Oh, come on, be irresponsible. Let’s go do something actually fun,” Mat said, leaning into you as he spoke. “You’re in a killer dress. You look incredible. There’s this cool bar down the road I’ve been wanting to try, and we’re dressed for the occasion.”

You scrunched up your nose as you thought. You wanted out, but you also really didn’t want to be rude since you’d have to show up to work on Monday regardless. Mat took your drink from you as you thought, taking care of the rest of your glass with ease even though the bottom quarter was definitely straight vodka due to how slow you’d been drinking. He looked at you, his eyes softly begging for you to get the hell out of here with him. You sighed and grabbed one of his hands, making your way towards the back exit. You couldn’t see the smile on his face, but you felt his fingers slide between yours as he gave your hand an appreciative squeeze.

Two.  

- Times that you’ve almost told him how you feel in the last month. The holiday season had you feeling particularly emotional in general due to a combination of Hallmark movies and the holiday parties’ people were having were giving you a few too many opportunities to be drunk around Mat. Drunk you was a little looser lipped than sober you. Both times started and ended the same way.

“Hey, Mat, can I talk to you for a quick sec?”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as he spoke, pulling him slightly so he’d turn to face you. Each time he agreed and followed you away from the crowd, tucked away in a less traffic area of the party.

“What’s up? Are you too drunk? Do you need to head out? I can call an Uber. Or should I call a Lyft?” he asked in rapid succession.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you something actually.”

“Okay, shoot,” he replied instantly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Your mouth went dry as the desert and your carefully rehearsed speech dissolved in your mind. You looked at him, his eyes dark as his traced over your face, trying to figure out what could have been important enough for you to pull him away from the party. Your eyes danced across his face, his strong jawline, his kind eyes, his soft lips. You wanted him. You wanted him so badly it hurt, but the idea of losing him from your life kept your mouth shut both times.

“You know what. Actually, it’s nothing. I figured it out myself. Let’s go get another drink.”

One.

You snapped back to the current moment, pulling your head out of the past. You watched the clock turn to 11:59pm.

“Sorry, I zoned out there,” you told him.

“It’s alright. Tito dropped in when you faded off, so no hard feelings,” he laughed as he spoke, “Um, actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I guess, why not start the new year off with a bang?”

You took a deep breath in as you looked over Mat’s face curiously. He was nervous. His hands were fidgeting with his cup. He was shuffling from side to side, foot to foot, transferring his weight with each movement. He looked down at the ground, unable to meet your eyes and mumbled something you couldn’t hear. The countdown for the last twenty seconds had already started, so there was too much background noise to catch his words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you?” You had to shout to make sure he heard you.

“I like you!” he screamed back. “Fuck that, I’m in love you with and I really, really fucking don’t want to see you kiss anyone else at ten seconds because I’m pretty sure it’ll break me at this point.”

Ten. Your mind was racing. Nine. Mat wanted to kiss you. Eight. Mat liked you like you liked him. Seven. No, Mat loved you. Six. He took a step closer to you. Five. He was so nervous, nervous he’d just ruined everything because you still hadn’t said anything. Four. Your feelings burst out from the box you’d put them in, running through your body, making your heart rate kick up in your chest. Three. Mat leaned his face closer to yours. Two. Your eyes locked with his. One. You rocked up on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

His hands found your hips, pulling you desperately closer to him, practically crushing you against his chest, but his lips were soft and gentle against yours. The room exploded into cheers around you, everyone celebrating the ball drop and the new year, but you barely noticed them, until you pulled back from Mat. His eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out exactly what you were feeling.

“I love you too, Mat.”

“Thank God,” he chuckled to himself as he leaned down to kiss you again, “and happy fucking New Year to me.”

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty four: sextape

Ruben's new house overlooked the Bay waters, about a block away from the harbor and within range of Alex's parents' neighborhood. If nothing, Sam could walk in between both of their houses. Her father kept his promise and made up a bed for her in that spare room; the dream catcher was back at her mother's house but she knew that she could sleep well knowing that Alex and his parents weren't too far from there. She lay down on the bed that first time around with her feet up against the wall opposite her and she envisioned Alex right next to her.

It felt so strange given she had reached the middle of her twenties and yet she found herself back home with her parents once more. New York felt like a whole other strange world once again, even with her couch still back there.

“I want my couch,” she muttered under her breath at one point. “I miss my couch.”

Then again, she felt like a teenager again, as if she was given another chance at it. There was a boy who lived down the street from her whom she had traded saliva with before and she was trading in between living with her mother and her father, and yet she still had a place to go with her old friends back home in New York. The sole difference was she had reached twenty four rather than fourteen.

She stayed with Ruben for about a week and then she made the trip down to Catalina on the bus and stayed with Esmé for about another few days before she made yet another trip up to the Bay Area. She knew that she would have to settle on some place at some point given the sheer extent of traveling and her feeling as though that things could be better once again: the bus rides through the Central Valley were rather tedious as well and she wondered how in the world Alex made that seven hour car ride so entertaining for himself the day he picked her up from the side of the road.

At some point, right before her next stay on Catalina and there was a longer stop than usual before the end of the line in San Pedro, she spotted a little art shop near the Santa Monica pier and she stepped off of there before the usual one. She knew she would miss the ride back and thus she ran along the sidewalk to that shop up the block. She held onto the top of that fedora Alex had given her with one hand and the courier bag he and his parents had made for her with the other hand. She was about to walk right into an art shop with the Skolnick name right at her back.

Her old journal had been falling apart at the seams for a time at that point, more so than when she and Alex were up at Glenbrook together. She only had one sheet of paper left anyway: she also took his advice and broke down on some page protectors.

A brand new journal, a new set of pencils, and a new chapter of life all for a small price.

She had to run back to the bus stop but she missed it regardless of anything, however. She knew in her heart that her leaving the bus was more than worth it. She stood there under the protective awning with her new tools tucked away in her courier bag and the fedora high upon the crown of her head, and her sunglasses rested upon the bridge of her nose.

Within time, the next bus came and she finished the trip down to San Pedro and she caught the next boat over to Catalina Island.

She had reached there about half an hour later than she had intended with her mother, but she explained it with a mere showing of her courier bag to Esmé.

Sam stayed there at the house for a full night and then the next day, for most of the morning, she had the house to herself. There was only thing she could do, since Alex hadn't given her his number. She dialed that old familiar number once more and she brought the cordless up to her ear.

“Hello?”

That familiar upstate accent.

“Joey?”

“Oh, hi,” he greeted her with a crackling on his end. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Were you now?”

“I was thinking about—how beautiful you are.”

“You're funny, Joey,” she told him as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger.

“But it's true, though,” he said with a clearing of his throat. “I was thinking about how beautiful you really are. Where are you right now?”

“Catalina. My mom's over in Avalon right now, so I have the whole house to myself at the moment.”

“God, I miss that island. It was so cool there.”

“It really is! I love it here. But you know—I love New York, too.”

“I wish you were here, too...” His voice trailed off.

“Are you drunk?” she asked him.

“No? Why would I be?”

“Because you were that one night when Chuck, Alex, Marla, and I were at your place.”

“I wasn't, though,” he pointed out. “I was more starving than I was drunk off my ass.”

“You smelled like booze, too.”

“Sure, I may have had a drink or two over the course of that day. But I wasn't drunk, though. I was lucid—I'm sure you remember me.”

“Yes, I do. How could I forget, really.”

“Sam, I wasn't drunk. I promise you that I was not drunk.”

“What was in that needle, by the way?”

“The needle I used to inject myself with?”

“Yeah, what was in there?”

There was a prolonged pause, such that Sam moved her head forward and her eyes darted about the floor in front of her.

“Joey? Are you there?”

“Yeah.”

“What was in the syringe, Joey?”

“Black—tar—heroin.”

She raised her eyebrows at that.

“Heroin,” she echoed in a soft voice.

“Black tar. It's extra raw so you get a heftier high from it—I guess it makes you sick, too. I didn't tell you—when we were in Europe—you know, when you, Marla, Belinda, and Aurora were with us—Frankie and I did a little bump of cocaine. I gave it up because it made my nose itch like crazy—he might still be doing it as far as I know, but I did it because it was there. But I tried out black tar because it's hefty in its numbing abilities.”

“Why would you want to numb yourself, though?” she asked him, concerned.

“Because I was in a lot of pain then, Sam. You weren't around to comfort me. I had to comfort myself somehow.”

“Charlie told me that they just wanted you to have a break, though, Joey,” she pointed out. “They just wanted a break, too.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. Which means—someone's not telling me the whole truth. I don't know if there was a lack of communication or you had something in mind.”

“I guess I just misheard him,” Joey confessed with a sigh.

“I think you did. That's—why I asked you if you were drunk.”

“I think I was just—in the moment then when he called me at the time.”

“In the moment of what?”

Another pause, albeit one that was even longer as a result of that.

“Joey?” she called out to him. “Joey, are you there?”

He cleared his throat, but he didn't say anything further. Just a soft buzzing noise on his end.

“Joey?”

“Picture me there next to you,” he started in a husky voice, “I've got my pants unbuttoned. I'm coaxing you to come on closer to me.”

She froze right in place. “I'm picturing,” she told him in a low voice.

“Come on closer to me,” he begged her, “come on closer and put your hands down the front of my jeans and touch me there. Touch me there, and I'll return the favor to you.”

“Where?” she asked him.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Where?” she asked him again, that time in a near whisper; Esmé was still out of the house and she was in her room, but she had to do it for him.

“Right below the equator. Right inside that lovely bit of sugar you got there. Just give ya a li'l fingerin'.”

“And what if I don't touch you?”

“You use your mouth on me. Use your mouth and then get on top of me.”

“I ride on top?”

“Yes. Right—on top.”

She thought about the tape that she and Chuck had recorded to send out to Bill. She wondered if he had it with him at that point and the whole entire thought of it made her heart hammer inside of her chest from that point onward.

“Should I top it off with a kiss to you after that?” she asked him as she ran her tongue along her top row of teeth.

“Please,” he insisted, still in a low husky voice. “And then I want you to climb the other way around with me.”

“So you can—”

“Put my tongue inside of you, yeah.”

“Oh, my, Joey—what if I wanted to squeeze your ass, like a couple of ripe oranges?”

“What if you wanted to squeeze my ass?”

“How would you like that?”

“I'd like that very much. I'd probably squeeze yours, too—”

There was a click on his end; she also heard the front door close right behind her.

“Hang on, I'm getting another call,” he told her.

“My mom's home, too.”

“Oh, shit! Yeah, you don't wanna get caught talking like this in front of her. I'll talk to you later, though.”

“Joey?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too. I'm glad my own sour stomach was weak enough to keep me from injecting that horrible, horrible shit, otherwise I never would've heard your voice again.”

She smiled at that, and then the two of them hung up at the same time.

His words stayed with her the whole week she was on Catalina, and even more so when she took the bus ride back up the Valley to the Bay Area. The first thing she did was visit the studio to see how Testament was doing, especially with her father being a part of their team now.

Sam pushed open the front door, which hung slightly ajar, so she could hear Alex plucking his guitar and Chuck laughing at something. Even from outside, she was growing familiar with his guitar tone and the elaborate, melodic way in which he played. She rounded the corner to find him there at the sound board, with that red guitar rested upon his lap and with his hair brushed to where it was rather frizzy and fuzzy and stood every which way.

“Hey, you,” she greeted him.

“Hey!” he greeted back to her, complete with a lopsided little smile. Her gaze wandered over to the sound board, where she spotted a series of tapes there, all which had the words “signed and sealed” inscribed on one side.

“Are you guys done?” she asked him, stunned.

“Yeah, it's all been recorded,” he told her, “well, Greg and Louie's parts are, anyway. Eric and I have to put down the guitar work, and then Chuck has to lay down vocals and then it all goes into mixing and mastering.”

“Don't you guys also have to play the songs together, too?” she asked him.

“Yeah, we do! We do that—in about a month or so, or whenever our residency is up anyways. It's like the last thing we do is perform the songs live in studio.”

She looked about the room around them: no one else in there with them, even with the door to the pool room wide open.

“I keep thinking about our encounter in the pool room,” she said to him in a low voice.

“You know, I don't really have a memory of it,” he confessed. “I mean, I sorta do? But it's rather vague, though. All I remember is feeling you up against my body and the next thing I knew, I woke up and I had that strange hickey on my neck. I never had one of those before, but when I took a better look at it, I thought 'is that what I think it is?' Sure enough it was. Again, my memory is real hazy but I do have somewhat of it, though.”

“And we made a pinky promise to one another that we wouldn't speak about it to anyone, either,” she added.

“I do remember that,” he told her with a raise of his eyebrows. “I remember that pretty clearly.”

“Because you puked it all up.”

“I puked it all up but I was still kind of fuzzy in the head, though. But I do remember that part, though. I remember feeling your finger on me, too.”

“I should tell you that you are quite the kisser,” she told him.

“I think you are, too,” he said with a little squint to his eyes. “I can still taste you. Even after all the water I drank up after the fact, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

“Do you remember what else I told you?” she asked him in a soft voice.

“Something about—me being perfect or something along those line?”

“How I want to protect you from things, especially other women.”

“Women are not things, though, Samantha,” he said in a singsong voice and with a wag of his finger. “You ought to know that. You're a woman yourself.”

“Of course,” she retoreted as she rolled her eyes. “But what I mean is I want to protect you, Alex. I think it might be from you being younger than me.”

“Could be. Or it could be the fact that you're out here in California again and your boyfriend is back in New York still.”

“You were a bit drunk, though,” she pointed out.

“I was drunk and feeling every inch of you all over me, like it's some kinda hallucinogen.”

“I kind of wanna tape your mouth shut now,” she admitted.

“Why?” he chuckled at that.

“Tape over your mouth and give you what for below the equator.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, but she realized that he was looking past her. Sam turned around and there was no one behind her.

“I thought I saw Eric back there,” he said as she turned back around and faced him straight on. “Anyways, you wanna tape me up and give me a little something down south?”

“Yes!”

“Lemme ask you this, Samantha—where did all this come from?”

“Hanging out with you and Chuck and Eric and Greg and Louie. That's what.”

“Nah, I'm sure you were feeling like this with Joey and all those guys back East.”

She eyed the veins in his lanky arms: they seemed much more slender, sinewy, and toned than before, as if he had worked out this whole entire time. She brought her gaze up to his face and those deep eyes that she had seen from a whole mile away from the coast line.

“I'll tell you this, though, Alex,” she told him, “—you are nice and soft. For a strong little guy, you sure have the softest body. Like cuddling with a little teddy bear. Or a little pillow.”

“Hey, I ain't little,” he scoffed with a toss of his black hair and a wag of his finger. “If you and I ever get together at some point again in the future—and things get extra passionate between us—I'll show you what I mean.”

She froze for a second, and then she realized what he was talking about. And then she showed him her tongue.

“You are a dirty little boy, aren't you,” she teased him.

“Again—I ain't little. And I might have to wash anyways—I'll be right back.”

He stood up and slung his guitar off of his shoulder, and then he walked on out of there, and into the next room. Given he said that within junction of itself, she wondered if he was actually going to do just that. She turned to the tapes on the sound board, those completed tapes, already recorded and ready to be pieced together for the new album.

A familiar woman's voice caught her ear right then, and she turned for a look to the door of the pool room. She recognized that jet black hair, which had been cut extra short and flipped about at the back of her head. She had put on a bit of weight from carrying two babies, but her protruding belly told Sam that there was something else now.

“Hey! Aurora!” She was stern.

“Sam!” Aurora's face lit up but Sam's arms folded across her chest took that look of joy away as quickly as it came. Eric and Alex stopped right in their tracks in the doorways right there on either side of them: the room fell silent as a result.

They hadn't spoken since that fateful New Year's Eve, but the wounds were still raw with Sam. Aurora glanced back at Eric, who stood there in the doorway of the pool room; he looked as though he was about to head back in there but he never did. She returned to Sam with a serious look on her face.

“Listen—I feel terrible,” she confessed. “I feel so terrible for what I did, for leaving you and the girls behind. But—I have a family now. It's hard for me to focus sometimes—and it was especially then, too. My brain just—wasn't firing on all cylinders. Really, I feel terrible, Sam. I can't believe I did that to you.”

“I see you already have another bun in the oven,” Sam grumbled; she swore that Aurora just had twins that past summer.

“I do, yes. I'm sure you know—I love my daughters. I love Emile. But I also love you, though. I love you and I miss you. And like I said, I feel terrible.” She paused for a moment. “If you're going to blame anyone, blame me.”

Sam parted her lips to say something but no sound came out. Instead, Aurora lowered her gaze and she turned away. Sam's mind went blank and then she turned to Eric and Alex there in the doorways, and the both of them looked so small at the sight before them. Eric then stepped out of the way to let Marla through: her hair still in that neon green, but she carried a small bundle in her arms.

“Our daughters,” Aurora explained, “Phoebe and Elizabeth—I just brought Phoebe with me. Emile's caring for Elizabeth back home right now. I don't know what this baby'll be next but I'm eager to meet him or her.”

She turned to Marla.

“What were you gonna do?”

“I was just take her outside to the porch,” Marla replied as she nodded to the doorway around Alex. “It's kind of stuffy in here and smells like beer.” Alex himself grimaced at that; he stepped out of her way and Aurora followed suit.

Sam, Alex, and Eric congregated there in the middle of the floor; she then turned to Eric.

“I feel like I haven't seen you in a million years,” she told him. “How are you?”

“I'm good, thank you!”

“We're on a roll lately,” Alex said with a glimmer in his eye.

“Hell yeah, we are, my brother.” Eric bumped his fist, and then Alex returned to the sound board for his guitar; Sam peered out the doorway at the sight of Marla and Aurora taking their seats on the porch. There was a small shrub right there at the rim, one decorated with big hot pink flowers. Sam had seen those flowers all over California, especially all over the southern region of the state.

“I don't like those flowers,” she told Eric in a low voice.

“What, those pink ones?”

“Yeah.”

“Why's that?”

“Those are oleanders. They're poison, Eric.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, look how close they are to them, too.”

Eric cleared his throat.

“Marla,” he called out. “Marla—”

“Just a second,” she told him off, and she adjusted the bundle in her arms, and then she returned to Aurora. “Anyways—”

“Marla!” Eric insisted.

“Just a second, Eric!” she insisted, and she turned back to Aurora. “What was I saying?”

“MARLA!”

She rotated in the chair and fully faced him with Aurora's daughter cradled in her arms.

“What do you want, Eric?” she demanded.

“Get away from that bush!” Sam declared.

“What, this bush right here?” Marla gestured to the hot pink flowers right behind her.

“Yes, those are oleanders—they're poison,” she advised her.

“Oh, shit—” Marla yanked Phoebe away from there.

“Yeah, go wash—” Sam proclaimed, and she and Eric looked at one another, horrified. Marla hurried off of the porch and headed back inside of the short corridor before them and into the bathroom. Aurora lifted up her chair and inched away from there.

“That was close,” Eric said as he headed back to the pool room.

“For real!” Sam returned to Alex, who had taken his seat there once again and played around with the volume on his guitar. He raised his head and showed her a soft expression.

“I feel like if you go back to New York now,” Alex told her in a low voice, “you'll be seen as a hick.”

“Why's that?”

“Because you're in touch with nature,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, “I dunno, just something about being in a place like New York and knowing about things like oleanders.”

“That's probably why I loved upstate so much,” she recalled in a soft tone.

“There's also—this is just from what I've seen traveling through there and from touring—like a bluntness with New York, too. You like things that are nice and soft. It's okay, though—my dad tells me that time makes you stronger as it passes along.”

“I'll buy that,” she said, “I definitely feel stronger now than I was five years ago, before I moved to New York in the first place.”

“Don't blame ya,” he told her with a shake of his head and the little gray tuft over his head waved about like a little flag. “Five years—you've been through a lot, Samantha.”

“I really have,” she said in a low voice. “I really genuinely have, Alex.”

Louie strode past them right then with little black gloves on his hands. He gave his hair a slight toss back and showed her a grin.

“Poison garden,” she declared.

“Poison mother fuckin' garden,” he echoed her as part of his greeting and he gave her a bump of the fist.

“I don't know what that means,” Alex confessed, “but poison garden!”

Sam and Louie burst out laughing at that.

“When we were on a road trip together,” she explained to him, “we talked about starting a garden that's consisted of nothing but poison plants.”

Alex froze for a second, and then he burst out laughing, and then he looked on at her with a mortified look on his face.

“Poison plants? Like—deadly nightshade and—”

“Oleanders, too,” Louie added.

“Yeah, we discussed oleanders,” Sam continued, “mainly because they grow like weeds in the south land in particular. But yeah, deadly nightshade, oleanders, strychnine, among others. You can join us if you so wish, Alex.”

“I'd rather have a stake in it, thank you,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

“A stake in poison!” Louie declared. “Right on.”

“A stake in poison and sex tape,” Sam blurted out, to which Alex shushed her, but Louie had already walked away at that point. Marla returned out of the bathroom, still with the bundle in her arms.

"Marla!" Sam called out to her, and she padded closer to the doorway.

"Did Bill ever get the thing?" Marla hesitated for a second and then her face lit up.

"He did, as a matter of fact! Dave called me right before I flew out here and he said 'the eagle has landed.'"

"Hell yeah," Alex declared with a mischievous grin on his face.

"By the way," Sam added, "you look like a mom holding that baby in your arms." She turned to Alex. "Wouldn't you agree, Alex? She looks like a mom."

"Yeah, even with the green hair," he said.

Marla shrugged her shoulders.

"I dunno 'bout that," she confessed. "I've never felt like mommy type like with Aurora back here. But, I'll take that as a compliment, though. Thanks, guys." She showed them a smile before she ducked back onto the porch.

"Speaking of mommies," Alex said under his breath, and Sam took a glimpse over at him.

"What'd you say?" she asked him.

"Nothing." And he continued plucking and messing with the dials.

[scottspack]

SO YOU JUST FINISHED THE UNTAMED AND YOU WANT TO READ SOME FIC

Congratulations Jen @jlf23tumble on finishing The Untamed (tomorrow)! Now that you’re done with the show (tomorrow), you can finally dive into the wide and wonderful world of untamed fic!!! I’m ecstatic to be personally curating your reading experience! LET’S BEGIN!

I’ve started off with a list of 5 fics I think you should read in this specific order to 1. get some resolution from the end of the show and 2. get you acclimated to untamed fics! Then, I’ve listed a bunch of fics in different categories for your perusal to read at your leisure! This is an unbelievably long post holy shit brace yourself.

I’m like fairly certain that all of these follow the tv show canon BUT also its very typical for authors to combine many aspects of all of the different forms of canons to their liking. Therefore, I feel like I need to give a quick explanation of a couple things from the novel that show up frequently in fics that idk if you know already or not:

In the book, when Wei Wuxian is resurrected, he is brought back in Mo Xuanyu’s actual body and has his face and everything. Mo Xuanyu was pretty young when he died, I wanna say maybe 17 or 18??? and he was also short and pretty and flamboyantly gay. This is where the references to their crazy height difference come from, but again, I think I tried to include mostly fics that skew more heavily to the tv version where WWX keeps his same body and he and LWJ are more evenly matched physically.

Its novel canon that LWJ smells like sandalwood incense and has golden colored eyes. This is mentioned in like almost every single wangxian fic ive ever read, even if the author said they were strictly adhering to show canon lol

At the end of the novel wangxian run away together and elope! Obviously in the show that’s not how it goes down, but I think a couple of the fics I’ve recced might mention it in passing. (Oh also when they elope they make a pact to fuck “everyday,” a concept that might be mentioned as well.

Obviously, we have to kick it off with some fics that both reunite wangxian and give more resolution to the actual show. If you’re like me, it both took you a while to get all the way through the show AND took 100% of your brain power to remember all of the characters and plot lines. If that’s that case: these fics should be helpful in serving as a kind of emotional refresher for the show to wrap up some loose ends and to dive deeper into some of the things the show glosses over for one reason or another!

1. A Lot of Edges Called Perhaps by hansbekhart (Wangxian, E, 21k) 

The funny part is - and it is a little funny, even if Wei Wuxian has no one left to share the joke with - they never have. Not anything. He has never kissed any part of Lan Zhan besides his slim hands; never been even partially undressed with him anywhere besides a miserable, xuanwu-infested cave. It’s always been like this between them, this simmering need, this desperate understanding: a knowledge so deep that it lives somewhere in his bones, that if he wanted to have Lan Zhan he could have him, and if Lan Zhan wanted Wei Wuxian he could have that too. But they never have.

I found this fic on someone’s blog when they said that it was the definitive fic to read directly after finishing the series so i saved it, read it directly after finishing the series, and felt COMPLETE. Beautifully written, seamlessly fits with canon, and has a super fulfilling resolution. The perfect way to kick off reading untamed fic!

2. One Rogue Spark In My Direction by hansbekhart (Lan Wangji/Xiao Xingchen/Song Lan, E, 5k)

He’d thought, in Yueyang, that they’d seen something in each other, something familiar. That maybe they’d recognized something in him. But it’s been many years, and many things have happened since, and he’s guessed wrongly at other people’s hearts before. Lan Wangji looks back down at the table, at his steaming, bitter tea. He’ll beg if he has to.

In “A Lot Of Edges Called Perhaps” Wangji mentions that he has had sex before and this is the in-universe story of that time and WHEW BABY!!!! AHHHHHH!!! While this fic is like, almost pure smut, I think there is a ton of value to it in terms of emotional perspective on how fucked up LWJ was after WWX’s death. Also, it’s very hot.

3. Gathered Herbs & Sweet Grasses by hansbekhart (Laz Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

This is a fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui from when he rescues Sizhui from the Burial Mounds until they bring WWX back to the Cloud Recesses after he’s resurrected. It made me cry about 18 times and I consider it fully canon in relation to the show. I think this gives a lot of emotional depth to the Wangji/Sizhui family relationship that is very important in most fics, so this acts as a good base since the show doesn’t really talk about it too much.

4. Your Name, Safe In Their Mouth by astrolesbian (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, G, 10k)

“You’ve got a fever,” Wei Wuxian says soothingly. “You just keep still as well as you can. We’ll have you fixed up soon.”

Lan Sizhui recognizes his tone—this is the voice that Wei Wuxian uses on hurt people and young children, a very calm and no-nonsense voice that has none of the mischief and cheer of the way he sounds the rest of the time. Lan Sizhui looks up and meets his eyes, and they are dark, stormy gray, muddled and concerned.

“I’m all right,” he croaks.

“Hush,” Wei Wuxian says, in a low croon, like someone quieting a baby. Then he blinks, and looks away, awkward. “I mean—you shouldn’t speak. You’re tired. Rest if you need to.”

or: lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.

The Wei Wuxian and Sizhui bonding fic that I so desperately desperately needed to read. Since we got the emotional depth to Wangji/Sizhui in the last fic, here’s some emotional resolution for Sizhui and his other dad!!!!!!!!!! Scratched the very particular itch of “but have they REALLY talked about what it means that they’re reunited after 16 years???”

5. climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, & Wei Wuxian, T, 15k)

Jin Ling had begun to suspect years ago that there were parts of his family history that had been crossed out; long streaks of black where Wei Wuxian had been. The truth is more like whole books being brought up from their hiding places again.

Or: Jin Ling tries to figure out what family means, now.

OKAY!!!! Last emotional resolution before I send you on your way to explore! This is the emotional resolution for the other half of WWX’s family. Featuring just a FUCK TON of family feels and a lot of TALKING that this fucked up family needs so damn bad. *chefs kiss* muy delicioso! ALSO i think this is a good introduction to a lot of the naming conventions that are used frequently in untamed fic that took me a while to pick up on!

WHEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now that you’ve gotten some post-show catharsis in the form of a few extremely well-written fics, it’s time for a full rec! I’ve divided it up into seven categories: long fics, smutty one-shots, 3zun (lan xichen/nie mingjue/meng yao) fics, fics about the juniors, family fun fics, some miscellaneous fics, and then some yizhan RPF! I wouldn’t have put any of these fics on here if I didn’t think they were worth reading, BUT! I did mark my particular favorites with asterisks to demark the crème de la crème of the bunch. SO! LET’S DIVE IN!

EPIC TALES (LONG AND/OR IMMERSIVE)

My Age Has Never Made Me Wise by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 63k) ***

“We hear that His Excellency might be married by summer’s end,” the merchant’s wife says and Wei Wuxian freezes, his heart in his throat. “The Gusu Lan sect has been buying enough red silk and brocade that the merchants in Caiyi can’t satisfy the demand.”

He feels himself grow brittle inside, like a flick of a finger to his temple might make him shatter. His ears are ringing.

“Who’s the lucky bride?” he asks despite himself. His tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

Or: The story of a marriage.

I LOVE THIS FIC. YOU MUST PROMISE ME YOU’LL READ THIS FIC. The absolute best kind of slow burn and I think such an extremely accurate representation of the canon material. I’m always surprised by the authors in this fandom’s ability to write shit that is so concretely grounded in the universe. This could and should be a real companion novel. Amazing. I love it. (Also I know you said you’re not into fics that are long just to be long and I think this fic is the exact opposite of that, it’s long but for good reason and has such an insanely satisfying payoff that it’s completely worth dedicating a few hours to!)

The Year of Drought by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 24k)

Wei Ying could not be contained by the walls of the Cloud Recesses, alive again and overflowing with it, bursting like a dam in spring with the force of two lives unspent. And so he had to go. Lan Wangji understands that—he understood it when Wei Ying told him of his plans, looking at Lan Wangji above the rim of his cup with an apologetic smile, like craving freedom was something to apologize for.

Wei Ying would go, and Lan Wangji would see him off; this has always been the only way it could be.

Or: In the absence of Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji waits.

The previous fic but from Wangji’s perspective. Absolutely required reading if you read the other one. Wangji baby.......i love you.....

further than the grave by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 32k)

There is something about grief that turns Lan Wangji numb. He cannot be certain if it is not some kind of defect inside him that makes him so. But just as he grieved his mother’s passing with dry eyes and a stone in his chest, so he grieves Wei Ying: quietly, frozen inside, without tears. Beyond the Jingshi window it might be spring, but Lan Wangji’s body and mind are still held within the winter’s grasp.

As the anniversary of his leaving seclusion approaches, Lan Wangji ponders the nature of grief and healing.

One last fic from the same verse as the previous two, this talks about Wangji post-WWX’s death and then them dealing with the past post-marriage. Its just as good and immersive and amazing as the previous two parts, but this is the only untamed fic that actually made me gasp out loud and if you read this and can guess what it was we will be best friends forever. (There are two other fics in this verse that are also good but these three in particular are god-tier in my eyes.)

Vagabond by xantissa (Wangxian, E, 66k)

Wei Wuxian comes back to Cloud Recesses after a year of wandering the world, hoping to start a relationship with Lan Zhan. He doesn’t expect to come into the middle of a case of sleeping sickness mysteriously killing people, nor does he expect what follows, putting everything he holds dear on the line once again.

OOOWEE CASE FIC! CASE FIC! This is truly the twisty turny intense and INTERESTING type of fic from this fandom that blows my mind. This could fully be a stand alone novel its that good and there’s that much to it. Another one that isn’t long just to be long, it has so much PLOT!!!!! REAL GOOD SHIT!

Seldom All They Seem by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 25k)

or, one hundred and thirty-three principles of the Gusu Lan, pertaining to the state of marriage

***

He bows to Wei Wuxian, sword in hand, sleeves falling properly. Wei Wuxian bows in return, and the sect leaders begin the opening courtesies, and for all of ten minutes Lan Wangji is under the impression that he is betrothed to a boy who is perfectly normal and acceptable apart from an unfortunate tendency to fidget with his clothes.

That impression does not last.

A canon-divergent fic exploring “what if Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were betrothed from when they were young like Yanli and Jin Zixuan?” It’s extremely good and very compelling and also made me cry multiple times. (The confrontation in the rain doesn’t get any easier even if they’re betrothed!)

Half Cloak & Half Dagger by Fahye (Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, E, 13k)

Jin Guangyao lifts his head and smiles. "I'm considering a problem."

"Can I be of any assistance with it?"

He drops a kiss on Lan Xichen's chest. With the nail of one finger he lightly traces the characters for irony on Lan Xichen's side. "Not this one, er-ge."

A follow-up fic set in the “Seldom All They Seem” universe but focused on xiyao. Has hands down the best written characterization of meng yao in any fic ive read so far. I continuously come back to this fic just to read the absolutely genius way this author writes the Head Bitch In Control of the cultivation world.

The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (Wangxian, T, 20k)

Wei Wuxian’s hand jolts, spilling a drop of wine onto the tabletop. “Love?” he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. “Lan Zh— uh, Hanguang-jun, in love?”

“Have you not heard the story?” the other young woman asks, looking pitying. “You must, it is a truly heartrending tale of star-crossed romance and mutual pining — go to any storyhouse in town, everyone has been requesting a reading of this book.”

“There’s a book?” Wei Wuxian says blankly.

In which the junior disciples (namely, Lan Jingyi, Ouyang Zizhen, and a reluctant Lan Sizhui) turn to RPF in an attempt to rehabilitate Wei Wuxian's reputation so that he and Hanguang-jun can get together and get married and live happily ever after. It's... surprisingly effective.

I kept avoiding this fic, even though it was really high up on the list of most popular fics in the fandom, bc the premise sounded pretty goofy BUT I finally bit the bullet one day and AHHHHHHHH!!!!! Very very very cute and fun, made me smile like an idiot throughout the entire thing. Heartwarming and very well written!!!

never let me go by yiqie (Wangxian, E, 69k)

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

Another extremely good and super immersive case fic. If you ever just want to sink really deep into an untamed fic, this is a great one for it.

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (Wangxian, E, 24k)

“Hanguang-jun,” Wei Wuxian repeats. His heart clenches. He wants—but he’d really meant to have this nightmare stuff down before they met again, so he wouldn’t find himself relying on Lan Wangji’s nearness. He’s not supposed to go back yet. But he’s so tired, and his will crumbles. “Yeah,” he says. “All right. Take me back to Gusu with you.”

You want hurt/comfort? I gotcha hurt/comfort RIGHT HERE!

shadows in the sun rise by Yuu_chi (Wangxian, E, 25k) ***

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji says, voice slow and a pitch too quiet. A second later Wei Wuxian understands why. “I cannot hear.”

Or; Lan Wangji is cursed into internal isolation. Their ability to understand one another remains as unwavering as ever.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. I have been thinking about this fic nonstop since I read it. It is…..fucking incredible. One of the best qualities of wangxian is that they’re so in tune with each other and able to work so cohesively with little communication and this fic is like “what if we take that and DIAL IT UP TO ELEVEN” and i was like AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (Wangxian, M, 28k) ***

The second time Lan Zhan said Wei Ying, come back, Wei Wuxian did.

okay so this is literally getting added to the fic rec one day before i send it to you because i just finished it and WHEW BABY!!!!! YES it is just another wangxian post-canon reunion get-together fic, BUT 1. i cant get enough of that specific brand of fic and 2. ITS SO GOOD. ITS. SO. GOOD. achingly tender and incredibly soft but also funny and sweet and very in-character! i love it!

THE BONE ZONE (WANGXIAN SMUT)

Sweet Night by corteae (Wangxian, E, 10k)

It was like coming back to life again, like being restitched into existence, cell by cell, nerve by nerve. From the surface of his skin to the marrow of his bones, everything new and purposeful. Like being pulled back from oblivion into an embrace of pure light. A feeling of absolute asylum.

That’s what it felt like, to realize Lan Wangji was in love with him.

An in-show au of “what if they just admitted they’re in love and fucked during episode 43?” Soft and romantic and hot!

the crucial point by dissembler (Wangxian, E, 7k) ***

Months after parting on the mountain, Lan Wangji makes up his mind, plots his course on a map, and has faith.

I LOVE THIS FIC! Very realistic and sweet wangxian reunion fic from wangji’s perspective. Has so many good little details and is very true to their characters. Good shit. Great.

Stainless by Fahye (Wangxian, E, 6k)

"I'm starting to feel," says Lan Xichen, "that this was a counterproductive suggestion."

Wei Wuxian looks down onto the pristine, tranquil cold springs of the Cloud Recesses. Sitting in the water, their bare shoulders rising like dumplings carefully spaced in a steaming-basket, are a large number of Lan disciples.

"They seem to be doing better," he says, encouragingly. "If they--oh, no, I see what you mean."

At the near bank, someone has pressed someone else against the rocks and is kissing them frantically.

What is getting into a new pairing if not an excuse to read sex pollen in new and exciting ways!

To Recklessly Confess by la_dissonance (Wangxian, E, 8k)

Lan Wangji has a fantasy. Wei Wuxian gets several clues.

The “what if they just fucked in episode 43” au but from a different angle.

all the depths of me, real by northofallmusic (Wangxian, E, 15k)

Wei Wuxian is dealing with a curse a little worse than he'd like to let on, and Lan Zhan is a little less than willing to let it slide.

Another “what if they just fucked in the show” fic, this time set when WWX has the curse on his leg and Wangji has to carry him back to the inn. 

Every Day, Learning More by phnelt (Wangxian, E, 6k)

The pink was high on Wei Wuxian’s cheeks. “I mean I haven’t been able to… that I can’t. Not without you.”

Lan Wangji stared. “In this body, the whole time you’ve had it -- you’ve never…”

Wei Wuxian kicked his heels into Lan Wangji’s back. “I just said that!”

I knew at least one of these was more book verse than show! WWX hasn’t been able to jerk off in his new body, LWJ helps him out :-)

the meaning of the ritual by newamsterdam (Wangxian, E, 8k)

“Lan Zhan… wants to bed me?”

The hand on his chest is shaking, slightly. “Mn.”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian breaths out.

There’s something— something powerful, about that. Lan Wangji wants to bed him. Lan Wangji wants to sleep with him. Lan Wangji wants to touch him, and kiss him. The immovable, implacable Second Master of Lan, with a face and principles both carved from jade, wants him.

“Is this a fantasy of yours?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Forcing all the demonic energy out of me with your—”

Lan Wangji claps a hand over his mouth. “Silence, now.”

When the entire cultivation world turns against the Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian makes a risky gamble— he'll agree to participate in an ancient ritual for cleansing the spirit, so that his character can no longer be called into question. The catch? He has no idea who his partner for the ritual will be.

This is also book-verse! As the tag says “Let Lan Wangji Fuck the Yiling Patriarch”!!!!!!!!!!!

Hurricane by gdgdbaby (Wangxian, E, 6k) ***

"Haven't you heard?" Nie Huaisang replied, clicking his tongue, though he was clearly pleased that he could be the one to break the news. He leaned in to announce with a dramatic flourish: "Lan Wangji just took emergency family leave this past weekend."

WANGXIAN AS SPIRK STAR TREK PON FAR AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEWOO WEEWOO WEEWOO!!!!!!!! This was actually recced to ME by CHI and I have not stopped thinking about this fic for a full month. It’s like author gdgdbaby sat down one day and was like “Tumblr user Liv Scottspack deserves everything she wants in this life.” and then wrote this fic. Thank you author gdgdbaby, I love you.

WORLD’S WORST THROUPLE (3ZUN)

The body is a blade by rheawrites (3zun, E, 2k) ***

In which Lan Xichen is taken by surprise, Nie Mingjue takes what he can get, and Meng Yao gets what he wants.

This was the first 3zun fic I ever read and whew baby, got it in one! It’s actually a slight AU but it gets their characterization so right and is a very fun read. One of those fics I go back to frequently because it does so much with so few words.

shang tiantang by fuckwarlock (3zun, E, 4k)

They wanted so much, and with the way A-Yao gasps at the saber-calloused hand unfastening his belts, he does, too. The night air twirls with the scents of osmanthus and cinnamon and melon. Lan Xichen smiles, leans in, and ghosts his lips over the crook of A-Yao’s neck. What kind of brother would he be if he didn’t give A-Yao what he wanted? “I think it’s your turn to ascend, A-Yao.”

The Venerated Triad celebrates the Mid-Autumn Festival the best way they know how.

Truly the only way the venerated triad works is if meng yao gets Destroyed :-)

Favour and Fate by soulgusttheguardian (3zun, E, 8k)

There have been times in Meng Yao’s life when he couldn’t help but wonder how he came to be in his current situation. Found himself reflecting on the choices leading up to whatever misfortune had befallen him that day, and pondering why fate hated him so.

Granted, there had also been times when he couldn't help but wonder just what he had done to earn the favour necessary to be rewarded with certain things...

The current situation he found himself to be in, however, was definitely the latter.

More of the same! Truly I personally can never get enough of the 3zun dynamic in smut fics its just too goddamn motherfucking GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!

the stars do not take sides by everyearning (3zun, E, 4k)

Mingjue isn’t sure he’s ever seen Xichen do anything other than treat the boy like a porcelain doll and it’s laughable to him, to think of Meng Yao as something breakable, instead of the sharp, deadly object he is.

Okay one last “Destroy Meng Yao” 3zun fic! Enjoy!

never as alive as we are right now by ThirtySixSaveFiles (3zun, E, 12k)

Three perspectives on three sworn brothers, at three different times in their relationship.

(Or, three times 3zun got it on and some of the feelings they had along the way.)

Wait actually I want to end the 3zun fics on this one because it has true Emotional Resolution at the end and I think they deserve a little healing.

BABY BOYS. BABIES. (THE JUNIORS)

A Civil Combpaign by Ariaste (Jin Ling/Lan Sizhui, T, 20k) ***

“And,” said one of the pompous ministers, “there’s the matter of a marriage to consider as well!”

Jin Ling, who at the beginning of that sentence had expected to slam into the very last wall of his patience and lose his temper entirely, paused. “A what?”

Thing was… it wasn’t such a bad idea.

A MUST-FUCKING-READ!!! Jin Ling gets it in his head that as sect leader he should get married and sets his sights on Lan Sizhui. I cannot stress enough how FUCKING CUTE this fic is!!! Sizhui being the best boy! Jin Ling having more uncles than he knows what to do with! Jiang Cheng being the worst at relationship advice! It’s so fucking good it love it so much.

Anyway, Here’s Wuji by kakikaeru (Lan Jingyi/Lan Sizhui, T, 18k)

The melody gets a little clearer when he breaks out of the trees, and Jingyi changes course with certainty, barreling down the back hill and through the Cloud Recesses, dodging scandalized disciples left and right. He throws open the doors to the Receiving Hall without announcement and bows nearly double, eyes on the floor instead of on the shocked faces of the Mei delegation and the impenetrable gaze of the Chief Cultivator.

"Forgive this disciple," Jingyi shouts, because he's going to get punished for rule breaking regardless. "From the back hill, Hanguang-jun, there is a song in the wind!"

Lan Jingyi comes of age.

A Jingyi-central fic about Jingyi growing up and falling in love and being a hero and being the second best boy of my heart right after Sizhui. Not only is this fic sweet and romantic but it’s another one that explores a lot of interesting things within canon and all of the supporting characters are written very well and are just as interesting as second best boy Jingyi.

Ok, JiuJiu by kakikaeru (Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen, T, 16k)

Uncle's jaw works in the way that suggests he's about to say something irredeemable. Jin Ling, in a move of diplomacy he hopes the Chief Cultivator appreciates, distracts him with spicy food and his favourite subject: the incompetence of his own officials.

"I hear the lakes in the south east are having drainage problems?" he asks nonchalantly, sticking three big slices of braised pork belly into his Uncle's bowl.

Jin Ling just wants to get through the Discussion Conference with his Sect, his dignity, and his heart intact.

A follow up fic to “Anyways, Here’s Wuji.” I LOVE the Jin Ling/Ouyang Zizhen dynamic of Jin Ling having been raised by Jiang “I keep all my emotions right here and then one day I’ll die” Cheng AND being hopelessly charmed and smitten with Ouyang “President of the I Love Love Romance Novel Book Club” Zizhen! I LOVE IT! EXTREMELY CUTE!

Lan Sizhui's Guide to Courtship by Kimblydot (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, T, 23k)

In which Jingyi is a little oblivious, Sizhui is patient (and should have said something in the beginning), and everyone else is resigned to watching them dance around each other for far longer than necessary.

(Or: five things Sizhui tries to do in his courtship, and the one time Jingyi realizes there was one happening in the first place.)

I’ll stop describing fics about the juniors as being “cute” when they stop being SO FUCKING CUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

His Merit All My Fear by violettressed (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, G, 16k)

It’s too late for any of Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits to be awake -- one of the sundown chores for young disciples is to herd them back into their hutch -- but the rabbit field is as good a spot as any for quality sulking, so Lan Jingyi makes his way there.

Someone has beat him to it.

Lan Jingyi stares at Hanguang-Jun. Hanguang-Jun stares passively back.

When Lan Sizhui is swept away with the Ghost General, off on a new adventure, Lan Jingyi is the one who returns to Cloud Recesses alone.

Not only another extremely cute Sizhui/Jingyi fic BUT one that includes a Wangji/Jingyi friendship??? Incroyable! *chefs kiss*

spirit running wild by idrilka (Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, E, 17k)

He doesn’t know, exactly, when the friendship he shared with Sizhui over the years has changed into something that’s made Jingyi finally understand why Hanguang-Jun always wears that expression whenever he looks at Senior Wei. There hasn’t been one single moment that he can point to and say, yes, this is where it started, because the thing about falling in love with your best friend is that it happens gradually, until it’s impossible to tell which step has been the deciding one.

Jingyi goes to Baling with a crush.

Written by the same genius that wrote the first three fics I made you read so you know it’s good. Its truly the childhood best friends to lovers of it all! Sizhui is adorable and Jingyi is a mess! *muah!*

FAMILY FUN TIME (NO ROMANCE, JUST FEELS)

Grow by cafecliche (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 14k)

“Okay,” Jingyi says, as Sizhui puzzles this out aloud. “Okay! So the demon has been turning its victims into children.”

“I think so,” Sizhui says.

“To make them easier prey,” Jingyi says.

“Yes,” Sizhui says.

“So—” Jingyi’s voice cracks here, “this kid is Senior Wei.”

Wei Wuxian, still tangled in his own massive robes, blinks politely at them.

(Or: Wei Wuxian is cursed on a night-hunt, and the junior quartet rapidly finds themselves in over their heads.)

What I expected to be a goofy, silly fic turned out to be extremely emotional and made me FULLY CRY! It’s a very moving fic about Sizhui coming to understand himself and Wei Wuxian a lot better AND features all of the juniors arguing over who’s turn it is to hold 6 year old Wei Wuxian. A true win/win of a fic.

To The Act of Making Noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Lan Sizhui & Lan Wangji, G, 19k)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

Another very moving and heartwarming fic about Lan Wangji raising Sizhui and Sizhui figuring out Wangji’s past and then eventually reconnecting with Wei Wuxian. It’s cute and soft and Sizhui is my best boy!

History (Proud To Call Your Own) by words-writ-in-starlight (Wen Ning, G, 5k)

“A-Yuan? Um—Lan-gongzi,” Wen Ning corrects, trying to set a good example. The children are young, seven and eight, exactly a dozen of them lined up in two crisp lines of tiny blue and white robes. Wen Ning can feel them staring at him, even though most of them have already mastered that Lan trick of neutrality. The smallest, a little girl with liquid dark eyes, is clinging to her nearest shijie’s sleeve and half-hiding. “Can I—what can I do for you?”

Wen Ning gets himself recruited for services, while he and Sizhui are visiting Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian gets a fan club.

Set in the same universe as “To The Act of Making Noise,” a very cute fic about Wen Ning finding his place in the post-canon world and being proud of Sizhui and being the world’s best substitute teacher. As the official Wen Ning Fan Club President, I had to include this.

the stone-filled sea by yukla (Lan Sizhui & Wei Wuxian, T, 9k) ***

He forgets how quickly Wei-qianbei changes faces, sometimes. Like pulling a theater mask over a bruise—color over color, a diversion with the swipe of his hand.

Lan Sizhui navigates a world that hates his father, one endless wave at a time.

Oh man oh man. I will never get enough of the fics where Sizhui (and the rest of the juniors) get ANGRY on Wei Wuxian’s behalf!! That’s their dad and their teacher and their friend and they will DEFEND HIM!!! YEAH BAYBEEEEEEEEEE!!!

PICK & MIX (MISCELLANEOUS)

This Side of Paradise by greenfionn (Wei Wuxian/Wen Qing, E, 3k)

Wei Wuxian does some very quick math in his head that goes something like this: He is pretty sure he’s in love with Lan Zhan - Lan Zhan is not here and likely never will be here - Wen Qing is here, not to mention very hot and let us not forget, actually interested in sex with him - there’s a solid chance he goes genuinely crazy or dies, or both, in the next few months and really, who wants to die a virgin?

Listen.......the fic premise is “Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing, noted bisexuals, figure life sucks enough at the Burial Mounds, they might as well have any fun they can before they die” and........I Am Looking Directly At It. It features Wen Qing bossing Wei Wuxian around and Wei Wuxian’s canon he-wants-to-be-pregnant kink. It’s........I liked it.

palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, M, 15k) ***

The realization strikes Song Lan like a bolt of lightning: Xiao Xingchen laughs, and he wants with a sudden, stunning desperation to kiss the mirth from his beautiful mouth. How, precisely, he is meant to manage that—that, he has no idea at all.

Or: introspective meditations on touch, trust, and the problem of desire.

I Am Baby and for some reason cannot handle how sad the entire Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen storyline ended up so I rarely read songchen fics, and when I do they’re always soft pre-canon fics like this one. Luckily there are some very beautiful and moving pre-canon songchen fics!!! I love you fandom!!

purpose and ritual by iodhadh (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 8k)

Song Zichen has beautiful hands. He's a powerful swordsman, strong and skilled, unfairly impressive and unreasonably handsome. He is devoted and self-disciplined and he takes direction like a dream. And he doesn't touch people—no one at all, if he can help it, except for Xiao Xingchen.

The poets might call him a saint, but Xiao Xingchen is so very, very human.

More of the same :-)

born to sweet delight by la_dissonance (Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, E, 10k)

Xiao Xingchen lightly jumps into the center of the pool, the water a shock that cools his sticky, heated skin, and does nothing for the heat building inside him. When he surfaces, pushing the hair out of his face, he finds Song Lan's gaze and meets it. Between them, everything goes both ways. What Song Lan will offer, Xiao Xingchen will freely give too.

Or, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan meet, pledge their lives to each other, and then fall in love.

This is about the angstiest I will go for songchen and its still absolutely Baby Soft lmfao!!!!!!

Pin it down by rheawrites (Jiang Yanli/Jin Zixuan, Jin Zixuan/Nie Mingjue, E, 2k)

“Yanli, I did not lie on our wedding night. You are the only woman I have gone to bed with. But… there was a man.”

“Oh?” Yanli blinks up at him. She does not appear horrified, or betrayed, which is surely a good sign.

Jin Zixuan swallows. “It was Sect Leader Nie,” he says quickly, as though that will make it easier.

“…Oh,” says Yanli, and her eyes are dark.

-

Jin Zixuan tells his wife a war story. Or, two thousand words of Jin Zixuan getting railed.

Have you ever looked at Jin Zixuan and been like “I bet that mf likes getting PEGGED!!!!!!!!” Well here’s the fic for you. 

*YIBO VOICE* DIDI LOVES YOU! (YIZHAN RPF)

never really over by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

The thing is: it would be good to see Xiao Zhan again — if Yibo could just trust himself to be normal.

Author gdgdbaby is the yizhan master, so here are five of my personal favorites of their fics, starting with this post-filming reunion fic that was the first yizhan fic I ever read and HIT real good after having just finished the show myself.

pedagogy by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 17k) ***

Yibo opens his mouth and says, "I want to learn," barreling past the rapid rise of Xiao Zhan's eyebrows. "To last longer. Will you teach me?"

Quick-fire Yibo comes too easily and Xiao Zhan helps train him to last longer :-)

you’re the reason that i just can’t concentrate by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 10k)

Xiao Zhan hears about it from Yu Bin, which probably should've been the first warning sign.

Yibo was only 20 when they filmed the untamed, which lends itself perfectly to fics like this.

a truth so loud you can’t ignore by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 5k)

It's their last day of filming in Hengdian when the secret comes out.

If yibo has to be a fictional virgin than SO DOES XIAO ZHAN!

if you would only let you by gdgdbaby (Yizhan, E, 32k) ***

"Well?" Yibo demands. Past the severe frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, a flicker of the old him slips through, the persistent boy who shoved his way into Xiao Zhan's space without a second thought and made a home for himself there. "Are you coming or not?"

Xiao Zhan's heart twists. He forcibly settles it back in his chest. He's only told Yibo no once in his entire life, and it was already the hardest thing he's ever had to do. "Okay," Xiao Zhan murmurs, quiet but decisive, and thumbs his phone off. "Let's go."

Like I said, all gdgdbaby fics are incredibly good, super well written, and very hot, but this one does stand out from the bunch for being a Full Epic Romance! This is one of Chi’s favorite fics so that should speak to it’s quality!

baby, who’s counting by nobirdstofly (Yizhan, E, 12k)

Xiao Zhan gasps, trying to rein in another peal of giggles. “What do I owe you anyway?”

Yibo shrugs one shoulder, and his smirk deepens. “Haven’t decided.”

Xiao Zhan’s still staring at him, laughter gone in his dry throat, when he hears someone yell for a reset. Yibo’s eyes are so, so dark, and he hasn’t stopped watching Xiao Zhan this whole time. Xiao Zhan swallows, nods, and pushes every dirty thought out of his head.

(Or: Yibo bets Xiao Zhan he'll break first during a take, Xiao Zhan loses, and it's all downhill from there.)

Ah sex bets, who doesn’t love sex bets!

Mystery Dance by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 16k)

"That? That's your confession?" Yibo's toppled onto Xiao Zhan's side and is clutching his shoulder, trying not to fall over. "That's pathetic!"

"Oh, what, you can do better?" Zhuocheng is pretty flushed and there's a challenge in his voice that Yibo just can't walk away from.

"Hell yeah, I can. Hit me, Yu Bin." Yu Bin cheers and refills Yibo's shot glass. "All right!" Yibo downs the shot, gags only slightly, and says, "Everyone! I'm a fucking virgin!"

WHAT’S better than a Yibo virgin fic? A SECOND YIBO VIRGIN FIC!

This author also writes extremely good yizhan threesomes so here’s three of them!

Some Nights by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Xuan Lu (Jiang Yanli), E, 2k)

Xuan Lu opened her legs to him and Xiao Zhan wasted no time diving in. He pressed his mouth against her pussy, licking her out steadily as her thighs trembled around him. She was nestled between Yibo's legs and if Xiao Zhan looked up, not only could he see the planes of her body, her small breasts going up and down with her breathing, ribs expanding, her tipped back head and open mouth, but Yibo, gaze boring into Xiao Zhan's as he ate Xuan Lu out.

The entire cast is hot and there is no reason they shouldn’t ALL fuck! Not one reason!!!!!!

gege loves you by mrsronweasley (Yizhan/Wang Zhuocheng (Jiang Cheng)), E, 7k)

"We are very sorry," Xiao Zhan murmured as he unbuttoned Zhuocheng's jeans while Yibo kissed his ear, "for how we've been acting."

"Is this how you apologize to everyone," Zhuocheng panted, hands already going for his zipper to help Xiao Zhan along, "or am I special?"

WHEW LORD!!!!!!!!! WHEW!!!!!!!

Talking in the Dark by mrsronweasley (Yizhan (Side Xiao Zhan/M/F), E, 14k)

Xiao Zhan has a light-hearted romp of a threeway with some friends, then makes the mistake of telling Yibo. It goes down.

A non-yizhan threesome BUT features jealous!yibo which is a ton of fun.

Finally, a couple AUs!

With Joy and Purpose by feenwitch (Yizhan, E, 30k) ***

Yibo has been alone for approximately five Earth years when Xiao Zhan crash lands on his planet.

YIZHAN ANDROID AU!!!!!!!! This is a very star trek-esque universe which is fun, but the fic itself is also CRAZY interesting and moving and beautiful!!!!!!!!! It’s A LOT! This was a rec from Nina, so thank you Nina!

Bound With a Same-Heart Knot by mrsronweasley (Yizhan, E, 59k)

London, 1892. Xiao Zhan, a promising young attache at the Chinese embassy is tasked with showing the new ambassador's son Wang Yibo around London. The inevitable happens.

Victorian AU! I actually think you already read this, but included for posterity.

AND SCENE! This is the result of two months of daily fic reading, having 50 tabs of fic open at any given time, reading truly anything and everything, and Loving The Untamed. I’m SO EXCITED you’re diving into fic for this show and I can’t wait to talk to you about all of them and to have someone to scream with! WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Bakugo x reader where he’s a single dad and just started dating again so he’s nervous the whole time between you and his daughter

Bubbles

This was his third date he had gone on that Izuku set him up on. ‘This one is different’ he said . They were all ‘different’ and all not worth his time. These dates not only needed to impress him but his daughter, Thea, too. And he was not going to bring some random woman around his daughter every friday night. Fuck no. Thea was his life, she had just turned 7 and still had no quirk . He accepted it , he was relieved actually, he did not want her to have his quirk.

Thea was the opposite of Bakugou, she was quiet and had gotten timid after her mom walked out. She already felt weird being quirkless and not having a mother just added to it. She was different to the other kids.

The weeks went on. And every Friday night Izuku got an earful over the phone about his latest matchmaking . “No, I'm done Deku. This is bullshit.”

“Kaachan maybe..”

“I said no.”

“Just one more . Kaachan please. I promise on All Might.”

Bakugou was quiet for a minute , his eyes wandering to Thea, she was asleep on the couch hugging one of his gauntlet pillows. He squeezed the phone turning away. “I'm going to beat you to a pulp if this is bullshit, Deku”

“You wont regret this Kaachan.”

Bakugou hung up and walked over to the couch hunched over. He picked Thea up bringing her to her bed.

••

It was actually not bad. You laughed at his jokes, agreed on a couple things. And could even throw his attitude back at him. He even smirked a smile halfway through the date .

Bakugou gave you his number and instead of giving Izuku a earful he just went home, relieving Kirishima of his babysitting duties and snuggled his daughter on the couch.

Bakugou was a little calmer now that he met you, his patrolls went smoother and he did not scare any of the kids when he picked Thea up from school.

You also sent him funny memes during the day and his angry react made your whole day. He sent you one back one day though. It was a cat and a microphone was being held to it and it said ‘Sir? Are you aware that you are a cat?’ And the bottom picture was the cat but surprised. The amount of heart emojis he got back made him crack a smile and take a screenshot.

••

After the fifth date he decided to have a talk with Thea about you. He picked Thea up from school putting her on his shoulders and walked the long way home.

“Daddy the house is not this way” she tapped his head.

Bakugou held her legs tight , he was nervous, and blinking. “Thea, stop hitting my head. I need to talk to you about something.” He turned into the park sitting on a bench putting Thea on his knee.

“Is it about my quirkless-ness again?”

“Thea.. no.” He brushed her ashy blond hair back and pulled off his emergency hair tie on his wrist, he fished her hair back while he talked. “Being quirkless is perfectly okay. But we need to talk about something else.”

“Kay.” She pulled a strand of hair forward and Bakugou pulled it back , she pulled it forward again and Bakugou tipped her chin to him , eyebrow twitching. She giggled grinning at him.

He groaned, pulling the rest of her hair back. “Ive been dating, i'm sure you know by now.”

“When Uncle Kiri comes over right?”

“Yes” he gave her a high ponytail and ran his fingers through it to help straighten it. “I've been on a couple dates with one girl. And it's been going good, i think.”

Thea watched her father with huge eyes and it just made him squirm all over. “Thea, do you want to meet her?”

Thea looked down at her hair running her hands over it thinking. Bakugous throat felt like it had not had a drink in weeks and his heart felt like he just ran a 10k AND fought a villain all on the same day. It was a very hard question, this was his daughter. His only happiness in this stupid world.

“Daddy?”

He blinked and pulled her close. “Yes Thea?”

“I .. wanna meet her but.. i'm nervous.”

“Nervous about what?”

Thea looked up at her father, the Number 1 Hero in the world. Mr Ground Zero himself. Feared no villain, the man who left his mark on UA with a smile on his face.

“Will mommy get upset if i like her?”

Everything felt like it crashed down for Bakugou at that moment. For a second it felt like he could not hear anything, could not feel anything. He was numb.

“Daddy?” She poked at his chest.

Bakugou glanced down at her and wrapped both arms around her a little too tight. “Thea, mommy is..” fuck.. he laid his head on her shoulder listening to her talk. “Mommy does not write to me anymore, is she upset ?”

He straightened out sitting her on his knee facing him, took in a deep breath and let it go.

“Mommy moved on Thea. She did not want to be with us anymore.” He wanted to die. “I was waiting till you were older but.” He rubbed her cheek. “Mommy is a villain now , that's why she has not written you any letters, Thea.”

“But mommy was a Hero..”

Bakugou got up with his daughter in his arms. “I know Thea.” He rubbed her head , his ears ringing from her sniffling. “I know.”

••

The next few days were hard for both of them. Thea was not taking the truth well and Bakugou slipped back into his angry ways. He stopped responding to your texts and it worried you. So you showed up at his route with a bento and forced him to sit down for a second to eat.

“Tell me what's up Katsu.”

“My daughter, shes fine with meeting you , but then she asked me if it would upset her mother.”

The little cat cookie fell out of your chopstick and you just stared at him.

“ so i had to tell her the truth about her mother.”

He snatched the chop sticks digging into the bento.

“Katsuki.. she's quirkless right?”

He looked up and you wiped his chin for him.

“Yes.”

You looked down at your hand watching the little bubbles float out of it, your attention was brought back to Bakugou when he grabbed your wrist making a big bubble burst.

“If you dont want to then we -“

You shook your head . “I want to meet her. I want to help. Anyway i can.”

He leaned on you groaning and you fed him the cat cookie. “This is all too much for a kid her age.”

“You're telling me..” he spat out pulling you closer.

••

The day finally came and Bakugou was pacing around his living room while Thea was on the couch coloring . He was a nervous wreck. Did he still have time to back out?

The doorbell rang.

Fuck, guess not.

Thea looked up from her Heroes coloring book and Bakugou stomped to the door letting you in and leading you to the couch to sit . Thea never took her eyes off you but she did scoot to the far end of the couch, slip off and go behind her father's legs.

“Hey, no.” He moved and Thea followed him making him groan.

“Thea?” You said getting off the couch and kneeling by the little girl. “Its nice to meet you, my name is y/n”

She peaked and Bakugou moved back grabbing her shoulders and crouching down to hold her.

“Your.. Ms Bubble…” she quietly said.

You smiled holding a hand out to her. “I am! Its nice to meet you!”

Thea reached out and Bakugou watched closely only for Thea to turn away and hide in her father's neck. Bakugou was about to get angry but you held both hands up mouthing ‘ its okay’ to him.

Bakugou eased up and rubbed his face with his free hand giving you a long stare.

You sat down criss cross and motioned for Bakugou to leave. He gestured to his daughter and you made a fist punching your palm quietly. He grinded his teeth at your cheap threat and got up walking into the kitchen, hands in his pockets.

Thea got half way to the kitchen when a bubble got her attention, she held her hands out catching it and looked back at you. You smiled and made a few more watching her walk over to you and sit down.

••

Thea did not say much and she did not have to. Her sitting with you was a big first step, for everyone. She sat with you for a couple hours, watching you make bubbles and letting her stack them into a tower. Inch by inch she got closer to you but still had her guard up .

It was maybe a half hour later and the house had bubbles everywhere. Thea was sitting in front of you with a bubble in her hand and you had her hair in your hands making it into a braid. Bakugou was at the kitchen table watching completely dumbfounded. You stuck your tongue out at him.

[halitophobia]

Blind Eye - Four

Parings ⟶ OC x Hank's Daughter! Reader (TEMPORARILY) , RK800! Connor x Hank's Daughter! Reader (EVENTUALLY)

A/N ⟶ Ha...so let’s just pretend that I haven’t been gone since...dude I don’t even know...September? Yeesh...well, I haven’t forgotten about this story that I started and have not lost interest...I’ve just lost motivation. For ten months. Anyways, here’s part 4 and I hope you enjoy it. I appreciate everything and if you’re here, having read the past parts, welcome back! Long time no see...Alright without further ado, please enjoy :)

Much love.

Disclaimer ⟶  over the century I’ve been gone, I have not established ownership over DBH characters

Warnings ⟶ swearing, violence, mentions of death, stubborn reader, stubborn Hank, spoilers...?, slow burn, sLoW bUrN, SLOW BURN, alcohol abuse (Hankster), angst, toxic relationship, eventual....fluff, happiness, cute stuff, flustered Connor, flustered Reader, all the gushy-ness, and ?????smut?????

Word Count ⟶ 3228

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

----

NOV 6th, 2038

AM 10:53:11

    The sweet, comforting sound of middle-aged men arguing about an empty milk carton wakes you from your beautifully sound slumber.

    With one eye open, you tenderly lift your arm to flip over your phone. The blue light screams at you so invasively, you almost forget to check the time. As it renders in your brai-

Shit.

    You hurl the covers over and yank yourself out of bed. You have exactly seven minutes to get out this motel before they charge you another night. You hiss as the unnecessarily freezing floor hits your soles, then drop down beside your suitcase. Toiletries and clothes are strewn somewhat near, quickly finding their way into a miscalculated arrangement. You collapse onto the case flap for strategic compression, swearing as you catch your hair in the zipper. Once the suitcase is successfully shut, you stand triumphantly...and realize you are definitely not wearing pants. Comedically, you stare at the wall ahead of you, truly contemplating whether it's worth scavenging the depths of your now clumpy suitcase to find your sweatpants, or to run out in the bite of winter...

    With legs spread out around your luggage, you dig through, trying to cause the least amount of disturbance. However you forget the whole point of searching gently once you feel the familiar fabric and jerk them out not so gently, creating a volcanic explosion.

No, no thank you. Thank you for giving me this chance to further fuck up my belongings...

    As you seal the case shut with great difficulty, you quite literally launch it toward the door. You check the bathroom to make sure you're not missing anything, then race to your bag. With a cute jig, you shove your shoes on while fumbling with the door handle. As you slam the door behind you, you pause, seeing a completely calm and silent hallway.

Ba-da bing, ba-da boom...

Fixing a few strands of hair, you give your room a lock and sign out of the motel.

----

PM 1:10:45

"I'm home!" you holler, expertly chucking your keys towards a bowl on the kitchen counter. You watch as they collide with it and thrash the contents inside, bringing everything to the tile floor. Nice...

    You move through the kitchen (which functions as a hallway), into the living room - corner as you like to call it. To your left sits an aged leather couch, pillows deformed and flat. Across that is the ancient one; the almighty TV3000, surely made three thousand years ago...A rickety window directly in front of you allows natural light to flood a small area of wall below the completely meaningless picture Ben insisted on hanging. Speaking of, there he lays limbs strewn out, trickling down the couch. His jaw, fallen down, reveals a gaping hole which projects a discomforting grumble and snort. You study his breathing pattern, then let your eyes wander to his hands; one lazily rested atop his stomach, and the other hanging off the couch with the neck of a bottle between his thumb and index. You scoff.

"Ben," you test, with a nudge to the couch. "Ben." you repeat.

You sigh, moving beside him and crouching down to his level. "Wake up."

He grumbles in response, swiping his lips with his tongue.

"Ben, you've got a shift in twenty. Get up, shower, and go."

"Shhhhhhh..." he starts, "too loud."

    You swallow, lowering your gaze to the cracked hardwood floor. "How much did you drink last night?"

    Your eyes narrow as he shakes his head, adjusting his position. You stand, leaving to your shared bedroom. Ignoring the much disturbed bed and clothes dotting the floor. You dig around the closet, clutch a certain bundle, then return. You drop the clothes with a hint of 'you're a shit' energy, then watch as he frustratingly awakes.

"What the fuck?" he snarls.

"Get up, shower, and go." you repeat, accenting select words.

"Fuck you." he mumbles, sitting upright.

    He groans, letting his head still from the commotion, and with his eyes closed, he reaches for your thigh. He rests his head against it and sighs.

"How was the shift?"

"Good. Got a good bite that'll last us a couple days or so." you answer, involuntarily playing with his hair. He doesn't need to know how it really went and how you practically begged to be paid. Let's be honest, what did you contribute last night?

He yawns, "Then I don't have to go in for work."

You frown, pulling away. "Yes you do. Aaron said you're done unless you clean up your act."

"Yeah, yeah. Take a joke, will you?"

    He uses your thigh to stand, draping an arm around your shoulders. He places a lazy kiss to your forehead and grins. It's scratchy and rough due to his ignorance for lip balm.

"You're great, Y/N." he states, wandering to the bedroom.

    Your eyes close as you hear the shower running. Letting yourself fall back on the couch, you run a hand through your hair. It's been like this forever. You can't remember life before simply because you can't imagine this one being nearly as lively. You can't remember having to crunch out bills like this. You can't remember a floor that doesn't wail at you. You can't remember feeling so full that you need to un-button your jeans, or a silent neighbourhood with that one family that invites you over every Friday.

    That life you lived before seems so un-reachable, so beautiful, that it's become imaginary. You love Ben. You do. He makes you smile. He makes you laugh when times are tough. He holds you through bits of the night and tells you he loves you. Though he's changed. When you touched his lips, young and naive, he knew excitement. Hunger. Want. When alcohol touched his lips, plentiful and cool, he knew ease. Numbing. Solitude. You weren't a stranger to this behaviour, you'd seen- you see it with your father. You know how to handle it.

He doesn't mean that.

He's got other things that are worrying him.

He's just stressed.

He's just tired.

He loves you.

He does.

"We need more shampoo."

    Your eyes open, and are met with his, looking much younger and fresh. You nod, "I'll add it to the list."

"When uh, when does my shift end?" he asks, touching up his hair.

"Six-thirty."

    His nose scrunches, and with a sniff, he turns to you. Instantly knowing, you stand, meeting him at the counter. He offers a small smile, acknowledging the tired in your eyes. He looks good; showers always fix the bags. Maybe last night had a lighter mood...

"You get some sleep, yeah? I cleaned the bedroom a bit."

    You nod, returning his smile. He juts out his chin, looking down at you through his lashes. You lift, keeping you arms by your sides as you meet him for a kiss. He places his hand on your crown, pressing his lips on your hairline.

"See ya at nine."

"Nine? You get off at six-thirty."

"Stopping by Jordy's." he states, grabbing his keys that are on the floor with yours and a pack of gum. "Love you."

You frown, the door nearly secure in its frame-

"Pick up dinner, okay? I didn't get anything while you were out."

Now it's secure.

    A scoff leaves your lips as you look to the crack embedded into the doorframe. You've convinced yourself it grows deeper and longer, his eager 'goodbyes' being the cause. Succumbing to yet another pause, your eyelids flutter shut once again; though not for long. Now that Ben's gone, you have duties.

    Number one. Count empty bottles. Six and a half. Number two. Search for anything out of the order. A slightly bloodied rag partnered with a slightly bloodied countertop. Seems like someone was eager to open a bottle... And finally, get rid of his secret stash.

    Thankfully, he didn't stock up much. Maybe just enough for the weekend or a 'stop by Jordy's'. With a small exhale, you clutch two packs of beers, heading for the door three to the right.

"Ben?"

"Huh? Oh, I-what are you doing with those?"

"What are you doing with that?"

    His eyes follow yours, the expedition ending at his first two fingers. Between them burns a cigarette, merely used if not freshly lit. He left ten minutes ago...is this not his first?...Your eyes slender as the layers of thin paper slowly recede. The air is thick; squeezing both of you tight and still. The start of a lecture bubbles from your stomach while a story fabricates in his. The creases buried beneath the stillness of your face emerge, your lips quivering to expel words.

Though, yesterday's events rattled you enough.

"If you leave now, you'll arrive only minutes late."

    A low sigh seeps from your body as you step forward. You gingerly press your palm upon his lower side and your other on his fist. Nimbly, you dance your fingertips along his knuckles and with your eyes on his, you swipe the cigarette from his hand. It falls and you listen for the minuscule bump it'll make as it collides with the concrete.

    He thought that was the end of your show, but the respite was only an intermission. You tighten your hold on his abdomen, then crush the embers beneath you, a quick twist or two becomes music to your ears. His jaw tightens and his throat bobs. If only you knew how many more have touched his lips; blackened his lungs.

"Put those back."

    His voice slices the silence, but your hardened stare adds more. This is the first time he's caught you, but if only he knew how many more bottles have been sold to the neighbours; dropped by their door.

    He's relieved. You have yet another tear in your perfect image. He's usually one to slip up, this moment adding to his endless list of mistakes, but now, he concludes, you've got a growing list of your own.

    A change of emotion from your face doesn't come, and you turn around toward the door. Your fingers curl on its handle and you send him a side glance, entering the apartment. With that, he stares where you once were, swears and threats swelling his tongue; he could storm back in there and he will.

    But he needs this pay check. He needs this money. You don't need to know why.

----

PM 3:08:30

BZZZzzz...BZZZzzz...

    Your eyes snap open, a brief gasp travelling your throat. A quiet curse entangles with an exhale as you reach for your phone. Whoever's on the other end won't be receiving a cutesy 'hello'...you were napping so peacefully.

"Yes?" you offer, rolling onto your back.

    You're on your side of the bed; the clean side of the room, dragging your gaze over the popcorn-styled ceiling. As the caller begins to speak, a headache begins to form. Captain Fowler.

"Detective Anderson..." he pauses and you simply close your eyes, "I'm surprised you actually answered." he chuckles lightly, though you hear a more pressing undertone, indicating he has business to express.

"With all due respect, Captain...get to the point."

    He replies with a grumble, and you hear his chair squeak through the phone. It's a discomforting pause for him, but a moment to rest for you.

"I have a new shift an-" he starts.

"I'll save you the time. No."

"Y/N..."

"No."

"Look, you need to get back out there. Your position here is wavering. I have been easy on you for too fucking long and that desk can be filled quickly..."

    His voice is firm; comforting to you since it's all you've known. You smile softly. He's trying to threaten you.

"Fill it." you jest.

"You're willing to let that go, eh? Even to an android?"

The curve of your lips flatten and suddenly you're upright. That's fucking cold.

"Fowler you-"

"Hank was chatting it up an' everything. They have a common ground for dogs."

"Shut up."

"The thing was wigglin' in your chair, leaning back in it,"

"Shut up."

    This isn't fun anymore. This is getting too close to home. You're seething. The anger in you reaches your ears, pink from your sleep, now red from your wrath. You storm with rage, huff hot, heavy air...though this time, there's more to it. Not only are you raving...you're hurt.  

    It's that easy? That easy for you to be replaced? You never thought your skirmishing would come to this. Androids have taken everything from you. From both of you...and he does this?

"Y/N."

Leashed and choked, you're brought back to your senses.

"If I do this, will you discard of it?"

"Of...what? Th-oh. The android."

    Your jaw clenches, the skin around it bulging while you wait for his answer. You snicker. Hank's traded you for a piece of plastic. A rancid, putrid, self-centered-

"Get out of your head and listen to me,"

    None of those thoughts left your lips; you wouldn't let that spill. He can't know you're hurt. Because you're not. No. You don't care.

"Take the job."

"If you trash it, I will."

You won't budge. It's you or it.

    There's silence. A sigh, nearly a growl. Then a crackle through the line signifying a shift in his position.

"I'll see to it."

    It's an accomplishment. Hank's a downright fuckhead and he'll be the one to apologize. To make amends. In the meantime, you'll climb that tower and set his work ablaze. You'll fight against him. Make him pay for everything he's done. He'll watch, clutching onto his beloved robot as you succeed like he once did.

"Well?"

    Right, Fowler's still on the line. You aren't surprised he's hanging on. He's a soft spot for you ever since the incident; you and Hank, but you're more personable. You take advantage of him though. His calls, offering work. Shifts that you and Ben survive on. You'd be rubble without the cold Captain, surely. You don't deserve any of it, but on the other hand, the pride clouding your head traps the gratitude. Or maybe you can't find the words. The second sounds kinder, but you're not sure if you yourself even believe it.

"I don't have money for the trip." you bite.

'Thank you...'

"Your pay check will cover it."

'You're welcome...’

    To your surprise, a smile finds it way to your lips. He can't see it. You don't want him to. For the first time through this treacherous hike, there's rope for you to hold. It's frayed at the ends and secure to nothing but twigs, but it's presented itself and you take your chances.

"So when do I start?"

"Leave now. A Lieutenant plans to head out to a case and I direct you to join." he takes a moment, "This situation is critical and it requires you to be local."

    You nod. You know what he means. You'll need a place to stay. The first place that comes to mind is the motel you left earlier today...but even after getting this temporary job, it's expensive. Too expensive...

The Captain acknowledges your hesitance, predicting your setback.

"You know there's someone here with a home. And a dog..."

"Where do I meet the Lieutenant?"

    Fowler stops his pushing, but only this time. He speaks as you begin to pack while scribbling the address down. You sit on the suitcase an- oh...I should probably...

'Can't talk now. Leave a message.'

"Ben, I..uh...Fowler's offered me a job," subconsciously, you start to fiddle with the zipper on the case, "Well, temporarily...but it's still good money. So...I'm leaving now and uh...well I have to stay there for a couple days. I don't know how long um," you take a breath, suffocating your bag and the grudge you held, "look I'm sorry for today, I'll put some cash on the counter for dinner and...I'll give you updates. Um...see ya."

     A groan escapes your lips and you head for the door. Leaving this place doesn't tug or heavy your steps. You do this all the time. You're not attached to any places anymore...always sleeping in different rooms, organizing clothes into different compartments, dragging your luggage onto busses. It helps, in a way, knowing you don't have strong ties to one place other than...Ben. He helps too. Lets you know there's a sense of being somewhere. It's with him. You think.

    The doors of the bus slide open and you step in with ease. This is routine. You know this. The bus accelerates pulling you back, but it feels different, like this time, you might regret leaving. This time, you'll come back changed. Or you won't...come back.

----

PM 3:52:10

    The elevator ride is intruding. Clicking, clunking, rattling...hell you can't even think. You can't prepare yourself; put your mind at rest and focus on the case. Then, like bird shit slapping the top of your head, you realize...you have no idea what you're going in to. You don't know who this Lieutenant is, nor what the case is about. Is it in your area of knowledge? It has to be. Fowler wouldn't put you on foreign grounds. He is an ass though...he could do it to make a point.

    Your damned anxiety dances over you like a sugar plum fairy. Can this elevator go any faster? Your right leg starts to shake. It's a habit. Just get it over with. Just get it done. Just let it go. The words you feed yourself are no use. You're just regurgitating them back. It's pathetic, really. You've seen the worst of the worst, yet you shrivel at the thought of working with a stranger on an investigation you have no idea about. Cute.

The ding invades your mind and you bite the inside of your cheek. Hard.

Fuck it. Right? Fuck it!...

    A loud scrape sounds before the doors even budge. They part and you're face-to-face with a poorly papered wall. To the left, you look, is another wall, and to your righ-

"Mmph!"

    Adrenaline crashes over you while a person crashes into you. A heavy person. Before you can process, your chin's scaping the chipped floor and your arms are pinned from behind. Legs tighten around your hips while a hand presses your cheek. There's a halt in movement allowing you to assess the position and its gaps. Your eyes slam shut; you have to think and think quickly. You recognize a space between the legs and yank your top knee through, driving theirs to the wall. After creating an opening, you heave yourself out, bucking your shoes into their chest. Scrambling to stand, your ankle's caught in an excruciating hold and a growl from you is the first verbal sound. The skin on your left cheek burns again as it’s raked on the ground. You're being hauled back. You feel legs return to your torso and hands tearing yours apart to each ear. With your back flush on the floor, you finally look at your attacker.

What. the. fu-

"Connor! Hold them tig-Y/N?"

You glance back and forth at the two.

"Oh for fuck's sake."

----