#Dickinette | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mochegato · 10 months ago

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Sending Sexy Back

“This should be it,” Adrien pronounced, looking between his phone and the bar sign a few times.

“Are you sure?” Marinette snickered.

He checked the name of the bar and his phone again, swiping to another screen to verify the address before answering. “Yes.”

Marinette let out a snort that turned into full blown laughter. “You’re ridiculous,” she chortled as she held the door open for him.

“I just want to make sure we don’t miss this. It’s the first time he’s the headliner for a poetry reading and we’re the only ones here for him,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes but bobbed her head in agreement. There were other friends who were going to come, but of the people he deeply cared about, she and Adrien were the only ones coming. Nobody from his family was going to attend. Supposedly, all of them were far too busy to make it, which was ridiculous considering there were like twenty-five of them and somehow not one of them could free up a few hours.

It was one of the reasons she had dropped everything to make sure she was there for him, not that she wouldn’t have anyway, but it added extra pressure to the night. He deserved to have a strong showing of support and she and Adrien were going to make sure he had it. “I wasn’t criticizing the sentiment, just the delivery.”

When they got into the bar, she was pleasantly surprised at the turn out. It wasn’t too crowded to move, but it was very well attended. They had to wind their way through the crowd to get to the bar. The only downside was they weren’t able to easily spot Duke to hype him up before he went on.

“Just text him,” Marinette urged. “He could be backstage… if they have one, and we wouldn’t ever see him.”

Adrien nodded absently. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He pulled out his phone again and typed quickly before looking up and motioning toward the bar. “Come on, let’s get a drink while we wait.” His phone dinged just as they made it to the bar and Marinette could tell by the slow smile that spread on his lips exactly who the text was from.

“He’s running late,” Adrien snorted. “Of course.” He turned the phone for her to see the message, shooting her a mock glare for her scoff, which he knew without even asking was because of the kissy face emoji at the end of the message, but he still tucked his phone in his pocket and raised an eyebrow. “What? Dark and Stormy, please,” he added for the bartender.

“Boulevardier, please,” Marinette ordered with a bright smile for the bartender before she dropped it as soon as she turned back to Adrien. “You guys just saw each other on Wednesday.”

“And now it’s Friday,” he responded as though it were the clearest thing in the world, and she was the most obtuse person in the world to not understand. “That’s two whole days.”

Marinette scrunched her nose at Adrien. “Disgusting.”

“Disgusting?” he demanded in mock affront. “It’s disgusting to be so utterly in love with your partner that being apart hurts your very soul?”

“Mon Dieu,” she muttered quietly to the bar. “Unbelievable.”

Adrien nodded to the bartender before taking a small sip of his drink and turning back to Marinette. “Your view of the world is just utterly devoid of any romance,” he smirked.

Mari took her drink with a smile for the bartender. “Can’t argue with that,” she chuckled mirthlessly and lifted the glass toward Adrien before took a testing sip of her drink, letting out a sigh as it hit her throat.

Adrien’s face dropped and he had started reaching for her before he registered the movement. “Mari, I…”

“Maybe I can help with that,” a smooth, deep voice drawled from behind her. It flowed around her like silk, caressing her skin as it moved. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Mari turned toward him slowly, utterly surprised by his brazen advance, but even more so when she finally faced him. She had to stop herself from dropping her drink. He was easily the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Calling him an Adonis would be an insult to the man. He wasn’t traditionally sexy. He wasn’t ruggedly sexy. He wasn’t model sexy. He was just sexy. Full stop. With his messy dark hair pushed back in an effortless style that would take hairstylists hours to accomplish and his crystal-clear blue eyes that focused on nothing but her, little crinkles forming along their edges as his brilliant, boyish smile widened at her attention. And he was looking at her like she was the most captivating thing he’d seen in ages.

That reaction jolted her focus back to the situation as a whole rather than on his chiseled muscles straining against the tee shirt he was wearing. She narrowed her eyes and held her drink up for him to see before taking a long, slow drink. “I have one already.”

Unfortunately… or maybe fortunately, she honestly wasn’t sure, his grin somehow became even more roguish at her cheeky tone. “The next one then,” he offered. His eyes finally left hers, the first time since she’d turned around to glance at her drink and immediately back to her eyes. She vaguely noted he had yet to give her a once over like she’d given him. No, he’d been entirely respectful. The confusing, stunning bastard. “Or maybe a snack.”

She smiled sweetly back at him, humming as she leaned in slightly. “That does sound appealing.” He mirrored her movement leaning in ever so slightly toward her as if unaware he was doing it. “No, thank you.”

He froze instantly and leaned away. “Wait. No?”

“Yes. No,” she repeated leaning away and resting her elbow on the bar. “Too sexy. Not dealing with all the…” she motioned toward all of him, “… that goes with it. But I appreciate the offer for a front row seat for the show.”

He stared at her for a full five seconds before he opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again immediately with a confused grunt. He had to take another breath before he started again. “You aren’t interested because… I’m too sexy?” he clarified slowly like each word made the sentence increasingly foreign to him. “Seriously?”

“Dead ass. There’s a whole,” she motioned wildly to the heavens and back to him, “that you people either have or just pervades you like smog. I need a break from…” she motioned toward him again. “I need a normal guy, with normal guy issues. Not drama. Good luck tonight though,” she offered cheerily and turned away from him, back towards Adrien.

She could feel him continue to stare at the back of her head well after she’d turned. She almost turned back around at the small chuckle he let out, picturing him accompanying it with an amused shake of his head, but Adrien jumped in before she could make that mistake. “Hey!” he exclaimed. “You dated me! I was sexy!”

His lips pulled down in an exaggerated pout, but it served its purpose as she scoffed at him, her own lips ticking up. “You were cute,” she corrected, “not sexy.”

“What does that even mean?” he demanded, affronted at the very insinuation. He was sexy damn it. He was a model… or he had been when they dated. He still could be. And he knew he’d affected her to her core back then. “You couldn’t speak when I was around.”

She waved him off as she took another sip of her drink. “Yeah, no. There’s a big difference. I wanted kids with you but never at any point thought about sex with you to produce them… or sex not to produce them with you. He,” she motioned vaguely over her shoulder, “makes me want to do debauched things that would make booktok girls blush, and all he’s done is say hi and smile.”

Marinette missed the way the man’s eyebrow raised at her words and his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk, but Adrien was in perfect position to see it. He’d opened his mouth to speak but Adrien cut in first, gasping loudly so there was no easy entry back into their conversation. “I’m hurt. This hurts. I feel…” he furrowed his brow in faux serious consideration as he patted different areas of his chest like he was trying to find something, finally settling his hands above his heart, “betrayal. I’ve been betrayed.”

Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes. She took a much longer drink this time. “I’m sure Duke will make it all better,” she consoled and congratulated herself at keeping the condescension from her voice.

Adrien grinned before he could stop himself but quickly schooled his expression into a heavy scowl. “Maybe, but…” he motioned toward her, “…first love didn’t find me utterly sexy. My ego might never recover.”

“See,” she threw her hand up in a vague motion toward the heavens. “You’re sexy now and this is what you’ve become. This,” she motioned harshly toward him, “is exactly what I want to avoid. Sexy destroys the personality.”

He met her gaze and kept pointed, intense eye contact. “So, you admit that I'm sexy now,” he clarified carefully.

She groaned and threw her hands up in frustration. “Of course, you are, you mangy cat.”

He nodded and took a drink, satisfied with the response… for the most part. He set his drink down and eyed her suspiciously. “How sexy?”

She stared at him with the flattest, deadest look and let out the longest, most exasperated sigh she could manage. “So sexy you’ve lost all personality, and I could never date you,” she stated. If Adrien hadn’t known her better, he would have believed the bored delivery. “Better?”

“Much,” he nodded solemnly, ignoring her amused snort. “Now let's get a good spot to watch Duke. He’s up next and I want to be close enough he can see me if he gets nervous,” he grinned, all evidence of levity gone from his eyes, quickly replaced with a genuine, sappy excitement.

“You go. I’ll get refills and food and be right there,” she interjected motioning toward the bartender. Adrien nodded but, he was already scouting out a place for them to sit. It was so sweet, so devoted, Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle. She only looked back when the bartender made a noise behind her. “Two of the sa…”

“Refills,” the bartender announced, setting down two new drinks in front of her. “And fries.”

“You’re a mind reader,” Marinette gushed as she reached for the glasses. “Thank you so much!”

The bartender scoffed as he grabbed their old glasses to wash. “Not me. Him.” He jutted his chin to her side. “And paid for them.”

Marinette froze and looked between him and the drinks. “For both of them?” Her eyebrows shot to her hairline at the bartender’s nod but they then quickly fell over narrowed eyes. She turned slowly; her lips pursed in contemplation as she gazed at him.

Had he just bought hers, she’d know what it meant, how to respond, what his intentions were. But he’d bought drinks for her and her friend and hadn’t made a big deal of it. He hadn’t tried to maneuver the offering into a second introduction. And he wasn’t just trying to get her drunk. He’d bought her greasy food that would keep her sober.

He was not playing by the Pretty Boy Playbook, and it was throwing her off. There was certainly another playbook he was going by, she just needed to figure out which one. Nobody who looked like him didn’t. She’d learned that firsthand… and repeatedly. “It appears I owe you a thank you.”

“Nah,” he waved her off but turned back toward her, giving her his full attention again, “it wasn’t about getting a thank you.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and settled further into her chair. “Oh? So, what was it about you getting?”

“A smile, but not for me. Well, kind of for me. I won’t lie, I’d like to see your smile,” he admitted. “Your real one,” he clarified.

She huffed a small bark of a sound, not quite a laugh, but not quite a scoff and picked up her drink, bringing it close to her chest as though she had picked it up to drink rather than something with which to keep her hand busy. A siphon for her anxiety. “You think you haven’t seen it already?”

There was no doubt the noise he made was a scoff. “No. Not tonight. Not in person. No, I think what you offered tonight was a shield, a false front, meant to deflect and protect. I’d like to see a real one.”

“Think you’re owed that, do you?” she clipped.

“No,” he answered instantly. “But I’m trying to earn it.”

Marinette blinked at him; her heart having stopped. Her entire body and mind had glitched. She was utterly unsure how to respond to that. This wasn’t just a different book; this was a different medium entirely.

She finally forced her body back into action with a scoff and a lift of her drink to her lips, but she set it back down undrunk. “I should think earning it is a foreign concept to someone like you,” she accused. Her tone was sharp. She hoped he felt it, but more than that, she hoped he didn’t feel the shakiness in it, the fact that it was less sharp than it could be, than it normally would be.

“Ah yes,” the man nodded sagely, utterly nonplussed by her tone. “Your perception of me.” He took a long sip of his drink, as always keeping his eyes on her. “Based entirely on my looks. Doesn’t seem fair.”

Marinette snorted but very consciously did not smile, at least not a ‘genuine’ one. Instead, she quirked her head to the side and offered a derisive smirk. “Not used to that evaluation going against you?” She pouted excessively.

He ran a tongue over his canine as his eyes sparked devilishly. Marinette barely had time to prepare herself before he went for it. “So, is it your hypothesis that you’re not sexy yourself or are you saying you have no personality?”

Her smirk dropped entirely, and her head snapped up straight. Of all the possible next statements he could have made, it wasn’t the last, but it certainly wasn’t high on the list. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged with an innocence she was positive he hadn’t experienced in at least a decade. “Because from what you said earlier, you seem to think people can only have one or the other, but as far as I can tell you have both in spades.”

Her eyes narrowed and her body leaned forward entirely of their own volition. She had to consciously force herself to lean away and break eye contact to study her glass, twisting the glass to swirl the contents into a golden vortex. “You were eavesdropping,” she accused. She set the glass back on the bar and turned back to him with a wrinkled nose. “Also, what is ‘spades’?”

He blinked at her, trying to reset his brain to comprehend her question. “Spades.” He repeated the word slower, like annunciation was the issue understanding. “You know spades. It’s…” he paused to think about how to finish the definition. “It means… They’re…” he flustered, still at a loss, his hands waving wildly as he grasped for an answer. “It means you have a lot of both.”

He let out a breath to gain his composure back, but still had to take another drink before he could continue. “And, for the record, you weren’t being quiet,” he added levelly, but his voice seemed more forced than it had been before as did the lean toward her, which had seemed natural earlier, but now seemed like a calculated move. “It’s almost like you wanted me to hear and comment.”

Marinette barely restrained her smirk at the difficulty he was having finding his composure. She had to imagine he wasn’t used to getting flustered. Men like him, hell, men far less attractive than him, were used to flustering everyone around them with just a smile, a raise of the eyebrow, a growl to their tone. She was rather enjoying being one of the few who could fluster the pretty boy. “I think you’ve confused me with one of your groupies.”

He quirked his head, almost like a confused lab. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you going to try to deny you have groupies,” Marinette laughed incredulously.

His eyes darted around rapidly. He leaned away to give him a better vantage of the area. “I don’t… have you… there aren’t any groupies here. You can’t possibly have seen any.” He froze and turned back to Marinette, all evidence of panic gone from his expression, but in its place was nothing. No expression. Completely neutral. “I mean, what groupies?”

A bark of mirthless laughter burst out of her at his clearly accidental admission that she was absolutely correct in her assessment. “I don’t have to see them to know they exist.” A sad glint shone in her eyes for just a second before she quickly masked it with a mocking smile. “They follow people like you around anywhere you go. Making you feel prioritized. Softening any blows…”

“I do have people who like to watch me, but not because I ask for it or encourage it,” he cut in, a crack in his neutral expression starting to show through. “Hardly qualifies as ‘groupies’.”

She hummed critically. “But that wasn’t the question.”

“Oh? I must have forgotten. What was the question again?” He leaned in closer to her, creating an intimate environment for them even in the midst of a crowded environment.

She let her eyes skirt over his face, taking in one frustratingly perfect detail after the next. “It wasn’t whether you encouraged it, it was whether you think I’m one.”

He let his smile sneak up a bit more. “A fan?” She made a non-committal sound. He quirked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

She pushed him away with a finger to his chest. “Takes more than a pretty face, though I will admit yours is prettier than most.”

He let his lips quirk up in a devilish smile. “You think my face is pretty?”

“I know your face is pretty,” she affirmed, voice bordering on annoyed. “You know your face is pretty. That’s why you have all the groupies.”

He hummed and took a long slow drink and settling it back on the bar with delicate precision before turning his attention back to her, smiling when he caught her eyes following each move. “And here I thought it was my ass.”

She rolled her eyes as she picked up her drink. “Well, it wasn’t for your humility,” she scoffed.

The self-assured smirk that seemed to have a home on his lips dropped and his whole aura changed. Suddenly the boyish, teasing charm was gone replaced with a serious, almost pleading vulnerability. “So, what does it take?”

She stared mute at him for a few seconds as her head tried to make sense of the complete turnaround in personality. “What?”

“To get your attention,” he elaborated slowly. His voice low and steady. His eyes clear and sincere. “What does it take to get you to give me a chance to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, caution overtaking her. “And how’s that?”

His hand clenched on the bar next to her like he was holding himself back from grazing it along any part of her that she would let him touch. As always, his eyes never left hers, meeting with such intensity, she almost had to lean away from him. “Like you’re the most precious thing in this world or the next. Like your every whim and thought is a precious gem that should be revered and honored. Like your smile and laugh achieve such perfection wars could be fought over them.”

If she hadn’t been so unwillingly, intimately familiarized with the Game, she might have believed his genuine delivery. It seemed so heartfelt, so genuine, because that’s how it was supposed to seem. What was a lie worth if you weren’t going to sell it. But even knowing that. Even knowing that’s all it was, she still had to fight her heart fluttering at the words. “Those are pretty words,” she clipped. It had to be clipped because she didn’t trust her voice not to crack.

“They’re more than words,” he answered calmly, confidently, again so close to genuine, it hurt to hear them. She couldn’t stop the bitter scoff that escaped her, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, or if he did, he ignored it. “You never did answer. What does it take? What can I do? What do you need?”

He leaned a bit closer with each question, but she backed away in equal measure. She blinked at him, trying to process his words. He was still working off a different book than the men she’d had the misfortune of interacting with before. He was off script, and she didn’t know how to respond; what the correct response was that would result in him not vaporizing her heart with no more thought or guilt than destroying an alien in Space Invader.

She narrowed her eyes again, but this time in frustration rather than caution. “I need someone who’s willing to put in the work and the devotion and the respect… and not just expect it only for themselves. Someone who doesn’t think they deserve the world to lay down the red carpet for them because they have dimples. I need someone who isn’t going to espouse pretty words to lure me into bed,” she hissed, no longer retreating, but leaning into his space with each sentence, like she was taking the fight to him instead of waiting for him to bring it to her.

“Words I know are false because you don’t know me.” She shoved an accusatory finger toward his chest but stopped short of touching him. “You have no idea how I deserve to be treated. You certainly couldn’t have developed the sense that I’ve earned such devotion that you would never bestow anyway. You literally just said you’d never seen my smile and yet you wax poetic about how revered it should be. The only reason you would have for proclaiming it is to lull me into submission, to lower my walls so you can slither your way in.”

She braced herself for the anger she was sure was going to come, the lashing out at realizing his flirting hadn’t worked for him for once. It didn’t usually take much provocation and Marinette had just provided plenty. But instead, he watched her, almost contemplatively, a sad look flashing in his eyes moment before returning to the more neutral expression.

“You’re Marinette Dupain Cheng. You’re best friends with Adrien Agreste and a particularly persistent reporter named Alya… something French, honestly, I’ve forgotten but she’s married to a DJ Duke loves. You’re exceptionally creative, not just in designs, which are amazing, by the way, both clothes and art, but in engineering as well.

He chuckled mirthlessly and shook his head but immediately remet her eyes with understanding gaze. “It’s an instinct I understand.”

“You’re fiercely protective of your friends and family,” he continued on, his voice strong and steady. His eyes met hers like a comforting caress. “You take care of everyone around you and take far too much on but still somehow power through. But you never let anyone take care of you. You could be drowning and would still insist you could swim without help. A fact that has been taken advantage of more than a few times and chipped away at your trust so you push people away… no, that’s not right. You don’t push them away. You just never let them in in the first place, which isn’t anything Duke told me by the way, it’s just what I’ve observed.”

Marinette edged out of her seat until she was standing behind it, holding it between them, her eyes darting to where Adrien had already taken his seat and was trying to crane his neck to find Duke. “How… how did you…”

The man raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly but by that time she was watching his every move, every breath intently. “Sorry, I thought you might recognize me. Duke is my brother. He’s talked about you since he first met you the first week of junior year. I’ve heard stories at least weekly since.

She shook her head absently, his words barely sinking in. “Duke said nobody from his family was going to be able to make it…”

“Honestly, with as much as he’s talked about you and your guys’ sometimes legal adventures, I feel like I know you better than any of his friends that I’ve met and hung out with. I…” he ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, which somehow made it even more annoyingly perfect. “Earlier, I didn’t say I haven’t seen your smile, only that I haven’t seen it in person. Duke has shown me so many pictures and videos of you, I thought he might have shown you some of me as well.”

Dick chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Nobody was supposed to be able to make it, which was ridiculous because there’s like ten of us and this is a big deal for him. I couldn’t let him do this without at least one of us here to support him. There were some things that could not be moved, but Steph and I were able to clear our schedules so we could be here.”

Marinette’s hard gaze softened but only slightly. She continued to look at him intently, as though she could see through to his very soul. But as she looked at him, she could see it now, the vague resemblance to the man in the pictures Duke had shown her periodically through the years. He hadn’t shown her many, just as she hadn’t shown him many of her family, but just like she had talked about her parents, Duke had talked about him often.

Dick. Duke’s pictures of him did not do him justice. There was something about being in his presence, an aura that pictures didn’t convey. It was an intangible feeling that overcame a person when his magnetic eyes met theirs, or maybe it was just her. The way her heart sped up when he gave her that look made her heart somehow flutter and freeze at the same time.

She kept staring at him, trying to reconcile the man Duke had described with the man in front of her, the one who had been playing games, because that’s what he was doing, right? He’s been playing the Game. He hadn’t meant any of it… unless he had… unless the genuine delivery was because he had been genuine. But that’s not how men like him operated… except for Adrien… and Duke… and Dick Grayson… at least according to Duke.

And this man somehow knew everything about her, even the parts she kept hidden far away from prying eyes, cradled and protected from getting battered any further like the Beast’s rose. Yet he came in like Belle ripping away all of the protections she’d fought so long to preserve and threatening to expose them to the cruel, heartless world with kind eyes and a dimpled smile.

Her mental spiral was interrupted by a voice booming over the speakers. “Next up to the mic, Duke Thomas.”

She took a sharp breath and shook her head. “I need to go,” she mumbled as she turned to join Adrien, but even to her own ears, her voice sounded wooden, hollow.

Duke’s reading was brilliant, or at least Marinette assumed it was based on past experience and the crowd reaction. She couldn’t say for certain herself. The first part of his short performance went by in a blur, she chuckled and clapped whenever Adrien did, but always a few beats behind and with a dampened enthusiasm.

She shook herself out of her daze literally, jerking her head back and forth a few times as Duke continued. The enthusiasm and passion behind every word quickly pulled Marinette out of her thoughts and into his world. By the time he finished, Marinette was fully invested in his reading, the interaction at the bar nearly forgotten, just a soreness lingering around her heart like an echo, and she was able to cheer for him without prompting.

When the applause died down, Duke immediately made his way to Adrien. His smile was brilliant and wide, warming the closer he moved to Adrien until it lit up the room when he reached him, which she was positive matched Adrien’s smile as well. Honestly, a person could go blind hanging around them too often.

She watched with pride as he made the rounds through the crowd, everyone granting him a genuine smile and congratulations. It was only then she realized she’d left their drinks and food at the bar earlier and she would really like one at that moment, again, more to have something to do with her hands than out of a need to drink. Fiddling with a glass was a much more socially acceptable way to keep her hands occupied than ripping a napkin to pieces, which she was moments away from doing.

Duke settled into the seat next to her while she was distracted, not even bothering to hide his devious smirk when she jumped at finally noticing him. “Sooo,” he started slowly. He shot her a pointed look, a prompting look, a clear signal that he was waiting for her to finish the sentence correctly.

Marinette snickered and rolled her eyes. “Sooo,” she repeated in the same tone and knocked her shoulder into his, “your performance was brilliant. Your best yet. You should put that in your portfolio. I’d even consider submitting that to a publisher.”

He looked down and grinned shyly even as his chest puffed out. “Thanks. That means a lot to hear.”

She shook her head and took his drink from his hand, stealing a sip of his Greyhound instantly making a face as it burned her throat. “Never order that again,” she gasped.

“Oh, so sorry for ordering a drink I like,” he chuckled. “Next time I’ll make sure to get one you’ll like on the off chance you want a sip.”

She snorted and took another sip anyway. “Off chance,” she mocked.

Duke barked out a laugh and grabbed his drink back with a shake of his head and a long sip. He looked back up with a smile that put her on edge. To anyone else, the smile would have been comforting in its apparent innocence, but Marinette knew him better. She knew that angelic looking smile meant devilish intensions and braced herself with a defensive smile for whatever trouble was coming next. “But what I meant was, soooo I saw you chatting with Dick earlier.”

His tone was light, teasing, but her smile dropped instantly. Her eyes darted away, focusing on anything but him… him or Dick. “So it would seem,” she acquiesced warily.

He eyed her cautiously, not having expected that response. Dick never got that response. Everyone loved Dick. Even people who didn’t want to date him loved him. He would understand if Marinette didn’t want to date him, but for her to shut down when his name was mentioned, that either meant their chemistry was amazingly good or amazingly bad. “How’d it go?”

“It went,” she granted, her eyes still not meeting his.

He hummed. Dick either did something sexist and conceited, which was not like Dick, sure he could be a stubborn, single-minded jerk sometimes, but not like that. Or, the more likely option, the connection was too good and she was scrambling. “No sparks then?” he asked with a sympathy that almost came across as authentic and would have, to anyone but a best friend.

She finally turned back to meet his gaze with a deadpan look. “Why?” her voice floated over to him saccharine sweet. “Is your love life with Adrien that boring? You’re checking into mine?” She tutted a few times and sighed heavily, settling back in her chair. “Honeymoon periods are so short these days.”

Duke rolled his eyes and shoved her hard enough to shift her in her chair. “Our relationship isn’t boring, it’s committed and supportive and nurturing and comfortable… No! comforting.” He pursed his lips and groaned. “No, you know what, it is comfortable. A healthy relationship should make you feel comfortable, and I feel comfortable with him. Bitch,” he added on at the end, but without any heat. He looked back at her from the side, meeting her gaze for just a moment before they broke down into laughter. It took a few moments before he settled back into his chair, his expression settling into a more contemplative look. “I was just… I thought you two would be good together.”

She shifted uncomfortably, eyes back to scanning the room. “And why is that?”

“I thought you’d be good for him,” he answered softly.

A scoff burst out before she could stop it, not that she would have wanted to. She was already feeling exposed from her interaction earlier and this conversation felt like scratching at her raw nerves. “Because I could keep him in line? Maybe make him want to settle down? Thanks for that,” she grumbled.

Duke scoffed this time. “You know me better, please. I wouldn’t wish that on you.” He leaned forward, not into her direct line of sight, but enough that he made his presence known, looming but unthreatening. “Dick has a tendency to forget to take care of himself. He makes everyone else a priority. I thought… you like to dote on the people you love and he needs that. He’s a good man who loves to treat the people he’s with like they’re the most important people in the world, and you deserve that. Especially after the last few guys you dated and how they behaved, how they treated you after the first few weeks… I thought you deserved someone like him.”

He turned his body toward her. Even if she wasn’t looking at him, he wanted her to know she had his full attention. Him encouraging her to consider Dick wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. He’d thought this through… frequently. “I understand if you’re not ready yet. I just thought you might be good. I’ve been talking you up to him since I met you. He hasn’t had the best luck with relationships either.”

Marinette glared at a spot in front of her, her lips pulling down into a deep pout and her eyes darting to him until she rolled her eyes and huffed loudly. “You are the worst best friend. When you and Adrien get married, I'm standing up for his side.”

He grinned brilliantly and pulled her into a side hug. “I’m telling Adrien you said I was your best friend,” he whispered before jerking away with a loud laugh. He continued chuckling for a few moments and let his vision sweep over the crowd, his eyes warming upon settling on Adrien. He continued to watch Adrien as he laughed, throwing his head back in glee.

His eyes darted over to her in a mirror of her actions from a few moments before but significantly more anxiously, like he was steeling himself for something. “But… hopefully, you won't have to wait long,” he commented carefully.

She quirked her head, bringing her eyes back to him. Her brow furrowed slightly as she contemplated his words and took in his stance. Suddenly, his frame was tense. Instead of slouching into his chair as he had been moments before, he was sitting up straight, spine stiff enough, a rod could have run straight through it. “For what?” she asked cautiously.

He took a breath before answering. “For the chance to follow through on your threat.”

Her expression was frozen for just a second as the words registered and her face broke out into a beaming smile and a squeal burst out loud enough to draw the attention of everyone within twenty feet of them as she launched into his arms. “That’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you! Are you thinking of asking soon? Did you just make the decision? Do you know how you want to ask? Have you made a plan? Are you just going to wing it? Don’t tell me if you’re going to wing it, it will give me anxiety. Lie to me. Do you need help planning the wedding? What can I do?”

She fired off her questions faster than Duke could register them. “Slow down,” he laughed. He squeezed her again before letting her back up into her seat. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but yeah, I decided I wanted to ask him Wednesday after he fell asleep on my shoulder while we were watching the movie.” He looked back at Adrien, giving him a sappy smile when Adrien looked back over and met his eyes for just a moment.

“I knew,” he continued, still watching Adrien like he hung the moon, “I wanted that for the rest of my life. Just like that. Forever.”

A noise rose from Marinette’s chest somewhere between a squeal and a squeak, her elation clear on her face. “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! I want to see pictures.” She suddenly sat up straight. “Ooohhh, can we get Max to record it with a drone or hidden camera? Or we can do a live feed.”

Duke chuckled and shook his head. “I think it’s hilarious you think Tim won’t do that regardless of what I say.”

He continued to watch Adrien for a few more moments before turning back to her with a sobered expression. The change concerned her, especially when he took her hand to encourage her to look back at him. “I know I wouldn't be here without you so... thank you. Thank you for introducing us and…” he took a deep breath, “for walking away when you knew it was wrong. For breaking both your hearts so they could be put together stronger. I know it was incredibly hard and yours hasn't been fully yet."

He opened his mouth then closed it to think through what he had to say. His eyes flicked to hers seeming to hesitate for a second before continuing. “That's why... I think Dick can help you with that.”

She blinked at him for a second before bursting out in laughter. “You know, Alya has said the same thing more than once.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. He dropped her hand, shoving it away in mock disgust. “Okay, I meant he would be gentle with your heart and protect it, which you deserve, but you know what? Dick would have made the same joke, so clearly you two have the same sense of humor. So, I was right and you two are annoyingly perfect for each other.”

She hummed in response and let her eyes wander back to where Adrien was laughing with Dick and a one of her and Duke’s university friends. Dick flicked his eyes over to them for just a second, just long enough to catch her gaze with a small, guilty smile, before returning his focus to Adrien.

Adrien was laughing at something Dick had said hard enough he had bent over to catch his breath. Adrien loved to laugh. His laughter was one of her favorite sounds maybe because it so rare growing up. She was fortunate enough to get to hear it often now. But laughter like that? Marinette hadn’t seen him laugh like that in a long time and the sight warmed her heart. “I'll think about it,” she agreed quietly.

Duke nodded and kissed her head with an understanding smile. “Love you,” he murmured into her hair before he disappeared into the crowd, heading straight toward Adrien. Marinette let herself space out for a few moments until the noise around her became too much. She needed just a bit of space to breathe and think. This night was not at all what she had prepared herself for and she needed a break to ease the weight of it from compressing her mind. She saw a door to the small patio behind the club and darted out to it.

As soon as the door closed behind her, the cacophony of noises muted, and she let herself breathe and think of nothing for a few seconds, but it didn’t take long for her thoughts to drift back to the bar.

Dick had been nothing but polite, and a bit playful, to her and she’d been cold and cutting. And, if she trusted Duke, Dick hadn’t deserved it. Duke had never said anything negative about Dick. Duke complained about all of his family at length, but never Dick. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He did complain about him, but it was always a backhanded insult; a compliment masquerading as an insult.

If she were as brave as she pretended to be, she would go back in there and apologize and ask for a second chance. The very idea terrified her. Not the apology, the stuff that comes after. Because if she truly meant the apology, then she would need to be more open to him. Let him move the protections she’d rooted into the ground and expose her heart. What an absolutely horrific idea.

She shivered at the thought and vaguely realized a bit because of the cold. She hadn’t brought a jacket or sweater, it wouldn’t work with the outfit, and hadn’t expected to be outside for this long. She got up to go back inside but froze when she saw Dick push through the doors.

He froze as well as soon as he saw her. “Hey, I didn't mean to interrupt but you've been out here for a while and it’s been a bit chilly at night lately so I brought you a hoodie.” Even if she hadn’t been able to detect the anxiety in his voice, there was no way to miss it in the way he nervously shuffled as he held out the hoodie for her and the vulnerability in his eyes.

She looked from it to him a few times, but it must have taken her a bit too long to reach for it because he suddenly dropped his hand holding the hoodie while the other flew to the back of his neck. “It’s Duke’s!” he added quickly, the pronouncement coming out much louder than he had intended. “Not… I wouldn’t have given you mine. Not that I have one, but I wouldn’t have given you my jacket. Not because I wouldn’t want… I just figured you wouldn’t…”

He groaned and ran his hand over his face. “What is wrong with me?” he muttered to himself.

“It’s okay,” she assured him.

He took a deep breath and forced it out slowly, finally lifting his eyes to her again before continuing in a much more collected manner. “I know you don’t know me and don’t trust me so it would be really inconsiderate and rude to have brought you mine. That’s all I meant.” He set the hoodie onto the table next to her with a small smile and immediately took a step back. “Well, like I said, didn't mean to interrupt so I'll leave you to your thoughts.”

She watched him take a few steps before calling out to him and taking the hoodie tentatively, like an inadequate peace offering and pulled it over her outfit. “I meant it's okay if you want to join me.”

He immediately stopped and smiled brightly but his bright smile quickly faltered. There was nothing in her expression or posture that suggested she didn’t mean what she had said, in fact they indicated complete honesty and openness. But there was still a hint of something behind her eyes, a tentativeness that he could just barely detect, but once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it. “Are you sure? I really meant it. I didn't come out here to interrupt. If you’d prefer time to yourself…”

She chuckled and shook her head, looking up toward the sky as though she could somehow see the stars through the light pollution, but he could still see the hint of a smile on her lips. “No, it's fine. Duke says you're a good guy, and I trust Duke so…” Dick nodded and sat next to her, close enough to create an intimate atmosphere, but not so close he was crowding her. “And I may have heard a lot about you over the years too. So… perhaps my initial judgement was a bit hasty and the way I treated you was completely unjustified… perhaps.”

Dick grinned brilliantly but soon schooled his smile into a softer version. He nodded and looked up at the sky as well. “I trust Duke too, so we know we have one thing in common.” Marinette snorted and opened her mouth but quickly snapped it shut and turned away before he could see her blush, but Dick turned to her a bit too quickly, catching it just in time. His eyes twinkled at seeing her cheeks brushed with pink and snickered. “Oh, come on, you can't do that. Now you need to tell me!”

She groaned and somehow, the blush got deeper and spread to her neck so beautifully, Dick had to stop himself from reaching out to brush his fingers over the blush. She groaned and dropped her head, oblivious to his stare. It took a few moments before she looked at him from the corner of her eye. “He says we have the same sense of humor too.”

Dick raised an eyebrow and grinned wickedly. “With a blush like that, I have to assume you said something to do with my name.” When she groaned again and covered her face with her hands, sleeves flopping loosely over her hands, his grin widened, a hearty laugh booming from his chest. “Come on,” he exclaimed, opening his arms wide to her, “let me have it. I've heard them all, I guarantee you. I could even tell you some.”

Marinette shook her head and lowered her hands just enough to look up at him with a bemused smile. She opened her mouth but closed it again quickly and took a breath to fortify herself before she answered. “He just mentioned…” she started hesitantly, “that maybe I could use a little dick in my life. And I may have laughed and told him that's not the first time I've heard that.”

Dick's face scrunched up, his eyes not quite looking at her. Marinette's hands and smile dropped instantly. She knew she shouldn’t have said that. It was so incredibly rude. He said he could take it, but everyone thinks they can take something before they hear it. Damn it! She was supposed to be trying to make up for her previous behavior, not behave worse. “I mean!” she exclaimed anxiously trying to backpedal.

“I have to say, I'm not a huge fan of the descriptor,” Dick mused. “Maybe prefer a different one. Like ‘huge’. That’s a good word.”

A snicker burst out from Marinette and continued as she broke down in laughter. When the laughter finally subsided, she looked over at him, a brilliant smile on her lips, to find him watching her with a lopsided grin. “That's the first time I've made you really smile.”

Marinette looked away and pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “First time?” she asked, hope eking through in her tone. Maybe she hadn’t messed up their second chance. Maybe there was still a shot.

He grinned at her. “And hopefully not the last,” he offered quietly. He looked at her softly for a moment until a look of determination crossed his face. “I want you to know, I am willing to put in the work. I don’t expect you to do it all, just meet me halfway.”

She nodded absently. “I’m willing to try. I’ll try not to let my past experiences affect ours.” She cut off suddenly and looked away. “I… I can’t promise how well I’ll do. But I’ll try.”

Dick ducked down to meet her eyes despite her determination to avoid his gaze, but he stayed in that position, waiting until she was ready. “I’m a patient man. I can wait for you.”

His patience was finally rewarded when her eyes shot over to his. “You’re not real,” she scoffed.

He chuckled but immediately met her eyes again with a soft, non-confrontational gaze and raised his arm in front of her. “Want to pinch me, just to make sure?”

She hummed and ran her fingers down his arm to his hand and threaded her fingers between his instead, not missing the way his smile widened at her boldness. “You should know, I can be stubborn.”

His smile brightened at her olive branch and settled their entwined hands between them. “I can be determined,” he offered in the same tone.

“I can be anxious,” she countered.

“I can be soothing.”

She looked away for a moment and pursed her lips in faux contemplation. “I can be… loyal.”

He chuckled and pulled her hand onto his leg as he scooted just a bit closer. “I can be insecure,” he admitted.

“I can be supportive.”

He nodded and quirked his lips to the side, eyes narrowing. “I can over commit until I’ve stretched myself so thin I let everyone down,” he commented, entirely too casually for the content of his statement.

She snorted and looked away, but she leaned closer to him and her grip on his hand never slackened. “Mood. I guess that’s something we would have to work on.”

He nodded. “At least we’ll know the signs.” He cocked his head and shot her a bright smile. “I like learning about you. You were right before, I may know a lot about you, but I don’t know you. I would like to change that though.”

She nodded. “I think I’d like that too.”

His grin widened. “Yeah?”

She nodded, her smile stretching to match his and God, if his eyes kept sparkling like that, her heart was going to stop beating. “Yes,” she confirmed.

“How about I try again tomorrow night? Is that too soon? We can…”

“Dick!” She waited until he’d stopped and faced her before continuing. She snickered at his rambling. Usually, it was her doing the rambling and everyone else watching on in bemusement. She didn’t get to be the one on this side often… or ever. “I’d love if we could try again and go out tomorrow.”

“Do you want to head back in?” he asked, nodding toward the patio doors. “It looked like you were headed that direction when I came out.”

She looked over her shoulder for a few seconds but met his eye with a hopeful glint. “I was only going in because I was so cold, but as soon as I thought it, there you were with a hoodie and a smile.” She shook her head and let out a huff of air. “I think that can be considered a sign that I’m right where I should be. Unless you’d like to…”

“No!” he cut in. “No,” he continued quieter, “I think Duke will understand if I miss a bit of his party.” He scooted closer to her and tentatively set his arm behind her, relaxing into it when she smiled up at him. “I’m right where I want to be.”

@maribat-calendar-events

#maribat #Dickinette #Dickinette February #Prompt - heart #Meet Too Cute

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starwarsmum · 2 months ago

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Maribat Mix & Match Monster Mash day 3, Oh Bite Me and Wings!

Dick Grayson hated attending galas. Parties, sure, but galas? Where tons of stuffy, elitist snobs looked down on him because he was a circus kid? Yeah, give him patrol any day.

He stood in the hallway outside his room, fiddling with the cape of his costume and playing with the artificial fangs and their adhesive. He had decided to go as a vampire, almost as an inside joke given Bruce’s other moniker.

“Master Dick, I hope that you are going to behave this evening,” Alfred said, preparing for a quiet evening whilst they were at the gala. Dick looked away guiltily, not wanting to promise anything he knew he wasn't going to stick to. After a few moments, Alfred sighed but said nothing more on it.

“So, what do you think of my costume? I wanted to get one that was more Dracula, but they didn't have any in my size,” Dick complained, pouting up at his kind-of grandfather. Alfred told him it looked ‘dashing’ and Dick grinned, pleased. Now that he was seventeen, he was much more invested in looking good to the boys and girls his own age.

“Ah, good, you're ready to go.” Bruce appeared, wearing a pair of blue overalls and a red shirt. Dick didn't think he even knew who Mario was, but apparently that wasn't going to stop the man. “Come on, my old friend from school has insisted that we be only marginally late.”

“And when do we get to ditch?” Dick asked, thinking about all the different things that would be happening on the streets that night. He grinned at Bruce when he scowled and followed him out to the car a few minutes later.

Arriving at the party, Dick took his earliest chance to split off from Bruce. He didn't want the older man cramping his style when he talked to the people closer to his own age. He strolled around eagerly, but quickly lost his enthusiasm as he spotted very few teenagers.

“No problem,” he replied, his voice becoming low and unhurried. He hadn't met this girl at one of these parties before so he wanted to make a good first impression. She raised an eyebrow at him, her stutter disappearing as he flashed a flirtatious look at her. “I don't think I've seen you at one of these parties before.”

His shoulders were just beginning to slouch when someone crashed into him. She exclaimed and he automatically put his hands out to steady her. They brushed against something soft and feathery and he took a moment to look over her outfit.

Unlike what he expected, she was wearing a black glittery dress and combat boots. The wings on her back were pure black and felt so real that he had a hard time not running his hands up her back to see where they melded with her skin. When they were both stable, she looked up at him with a stuttered apology and he was looking into a pair of gorgeous blue eyes, framed by black hair.

“Wow, what next? Do I come here often?” The girl was clearly unimpressed and Dick felt himself flush a little, although his charming grin remained intact. “You need to work on your pickup lines, mister, because I've heard all of them before.”

“All of them?” Dick asked with an eyebrow raised. She gave him a dead eyed stare and he winced. “Right, okay, sure. I can get creative. Would you mind giving me a pinch? Because I have to be dreaming since you're so cute.”

“I'm not sure a pinch would cut it,” the girl said, leaning against the table next to them. Dick tried not to grin too much, but she clearly wasn't too bothered by him trying. “Tell me, do you just try lines on anyone who comes to these things?”

“Why, jealous?” He leaned towards her, noting that her face held mostly amusement with a tinge of exasperation. Whoever tried so many pick up lines on her before must have been a friend, he decided. “You don't need to be, I promise I'm only looking at you right now. So, are your parents bakers? Because you're a cutie pie.”

The girl was clearly struggling not to laugh which gave Dick a warm feeling that spread through his entire body. She lost the battle and a giggle escaped past her lips.

“Okay, look, that's not because it's a good line,” she said once she'd gotten the giggles under control. “I'm only laughing because my parents are bakers and there was no possible way for you to know it.”

“Hey, I'll take it,” Dick said, shrugging even as he grinned widely at her. She shot him a mock glare but still didn't tell him to leave. They stood in silence for a few moments before the girl pushed away from the table.

“I'm Marinette, by the way. And I promised my uncle that I'd do the haunted house, so as interesting as this has been, I'm going to go. Have a fun party,” she said. She started to step away and Dick felt an overwhelming disappointment and darted in front of her instinctively.

“I mean, I haven't done that either, if you'd be okay with company? It looks kind of scary and-”

“Oh, let me guess, you want to be available in case I need someone to cling to?” Marinette snapped back, any trace of amusement gone and a disapproving scowl on her face.

“Oh, hell no, I need someone to make sure I get through without turning into a big mess,” Dick said immediately and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “And lucky me, you just said you were going in! Take pity on this scaredy cat and go with me?”

“Fine, but only because I have a soft spot for cats,” she said with a smile that told him there was a story behind that. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dick grinned at her and followed along behind as she made her way across the room to the haunted house.

“You're not going to hold my hand?” He asked, giving her sad puppy er, kitten eyes. She rolled her eyes but held her hand out to him. It felt like a victory and he intertwined their fingers, feeling giddy when she didn't pull away immediately.

Walking through the haunted house was fun, Dick jumping almost as often as Marinette. They laughed every time one of them was spooked by an animatronic. The owner of the home clearly liked crocodiles because there were sinister and realistic looking fakes throughout.

When they finally reached the last room, it was dark and the soundtrack was ominously silent with the occasional sound of something large swishing, like a reptilian tail. Dick was on high alert as they looked for the exit and spotted another animatronic blocking what he assumed must be it.

“Wow, that looks so life-like! And the soundtrack is so well done, it almost sounds like the thing is breathing,” Dick said excitedly. When it stopped moving, he assumed it must be motion activated and stepped closer to it.

He frowned when it didn't move, wondering if it was broken. Marinette didn't step any closer, inspecting something else and he turned back to say something to her as he reached out for it.

When something clamped over his arm, he screamed and tried to jerk it away. There was suddenly a lot of activity around him, Marinette leaping to his side and saying something in a stern voice. He looked down and could just make out the shape of the clearly not animatronic crocodile that was latched onto him.

Dick would love to say that he was calm, cool and impressed Marinette with his chill demeanour, but he would be lying. He was pretty sure he was in hysterics when someone in fairly impressive zombie makeup burst into the room from the exit that was behind the crocodile.

“Fang, mate, let the kid go!” The man sounded almost amused as he took in the situation. He turned back to his companion and Dick would have groaned in mortification that Bruce was witnessing such a total meltdown if he wasn't, well, having a meltdown.

“I have tried to make him let go, Uncle J, but I think he's having too much fun,” Marinette said, looking concerned. “I think I'm going to need to move him physically, can you make sure my friend here doesn't move too much?”

Dick gave another shout as Marinette stuck her fingers into the corners of the crocodile's mouth. But instead of losing said fingers, she continued to scold the creature until it reluctantly released him. The moment its mouth was wide enough, Bruce and the zombie yanked him out of the way.

“Fang, that was a mean thing to do,” Marinette said, sitting with the crocodile's head in her lap, patting it. “I'm sorry, he's very playful and when you screamed he thought you were playing along. He's harmless, really, I don't think he even ripped your costume. But, erm, perhaps we should get you a drink and a chair.”

Several minutes later, Dick was breathing normally and blushing bright red as Bruce and the zombie laughed about how successful the haunted house was. Marinette gave him a sympathetic look and patted his hand consolingly.

“I'm sorry he frightened you, Fang is very mischievous,” she said lightly. Now that he was out of the dark room and there wasn't a crocodile hanging off his arm, Dick felt like an idiot. He was in a presumably affluent man's home, he wasn't going to open himself up to a lawsuit by having something dangerous in his haunted house.

“I told you I needed someone to walk me through,” he said, but his tone wasn't quite flirtatious enough to be light hearted. But, miracle of miracles, it made her laugh even though she groaned at the same time.

“Do you ever give up?” She asked, swatting him on the arm closest to her. He shook his head and grinned, tentatively hopeful that he hadn't completely blown it. “You are unbelievable, vampire boy.”

“All good, mate?” The zombie said, looking between the pair with an eyebrow raised. Dick started when he looked up at the man and realised that he recognised him. He spluttered something incoherent, pointing at Jagged Stone and then turning with a wounded face to Bruce.

“How could you not tell me that we were going to a Jagged Stone party?” He screeched, rightfully betrayed. The betrayal cut deeper when Bruce had the audacity to laugh at him. “No, really, how did you even get invited to this?”

“You don't remember me saying that this was a party at one of my old school friend's house?” Bruce said, amused. Jagged cackled and Dick blushed again, feeling slightly mutinous.

“No, I remember you saying that we had a gala invite! You are officially the worst person I have ever met. I can't believe I had to have my arm almost bitten off before you introduced me to my rock hero.”

“I had to call it a gala on the invite or half of the people here wouldn't have shown up,” Jagged said, still smirking. “Besides, Fang would never! He's too rock n roll to hurt a kid without a reason, he's just…excitable.”

“And I would have introduced you when we arrived, but you vanished shockingly quickly,” Bruce added, still grinning. “But, just so you can't say I didn't do it; Jagged, this is my ward Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my old classmate and childhood friend Jagged Stone.”

“...your name is Dick?” Marinette said, sounding confused. He startled, staring at her blankly for a moment and running through their entire evening and conversations, wondering how on earth he had managed to forget to introduce himself.

“It's short for Richard?” He said at last, his blush returning full force. Bruce was shaking his head exasperatedly but took pity on the boy and suggested to Jagged that they go and refresh their drinks. Once they were gone, Dick turned back to her miserably. “I'm so sorry, I can't believe I didn't introduce myself.”

“It's fine,” Marinette said, grinning at him. “I didn't realise you were serious about the scaredy cat thing, I thought it was just a line.”

“Ah, well, full disclosure, it was meant to be,” he said, cringing slightly but trying to smile back at her with his usual charm. “But thanks for protecting me anyway.”

As she gave an adorable giggle, Dick felt his embarrassment melt away. And when the night ended, he left with her number.

#mm&mmm2024 #maribat #dc x mlb #dickinette #halloween #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #mlb x dc #oh bite me #Fang's a lil shit #wings

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