#but still wondering when and how could be a good setting to gain his MS bros

[rhupi]

Hiiii I love your swap au and was had an idea for it :)

Kushina finds obito walking around at an ungodly hour reading a medical book and she's obviously concerned and obito basically almost passes out and she calls the entire team to come help put as they figure out he's sick and kakashi and minato scold him whilst rin and kushina draw up a schedule for him to follow so it doesn't happen again.

Hell yeah🔥

[captains-simp]

Can I get a request where Yelena's dating R and has been for a while because things are going great but Natasha (being the protective big sister she is) realllllyyyy doesn't like R and R keeps making things worse because Nat intimidates her and all bdaksnakwk😭 and she finally accepts R when she gets caught up in a mission somehow and almost dies for Yelena🥺

Nat simps: Nat doesn't like the relationship because she's jealous

Me: n-no

Nat simps: she actually loves R😃

Me: guys no-

Nat simps: but-

Me: N O

(You guys are getting a big Natasha fic after this, calm your tits🙄)

3.6k words

Warnings: graphic injury description, implied torture and murder

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"My sister does not hate you." Yelena chuckled as she opened the car door and stepped out. You stayed put for a second, staring up at the Avenger's tower as you chewed your lower lip.

"She definitely does." You mumbled as you stepped out of the car yourself. Yelena held her hand out for you to take, marginally helping your nerves when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. She noticed your silence and tried again.

"Okay maybe she's not your biggest fan right now but she'll warm up to you. I did." The blonde winked. You bit back a smile and rolled your eyes. "The others sure as hell love you." You hummed in response, you couldn't argue with that. You got on with the other heroes like a house on fire. "And I love you." Yelena said earnestly as you stopped outside the main door for your girlfriend to plant a soft, quick, kiss on your lips.

"I love you too." You said with a smile.

"There she is." She grinned back as she stroked your cheek with her index finger. "Now come on, I'm starving."

"You ate that bag of M&Ms in the car." You laughed as Yelena led you through the building. The blonde scoffed.

"They only half fill them, y/n." She complained. "So it was half a bag." It was hard to argue with that logic. 

You made your way through to the top floor of the building, all while holding onto the expensive wine bottle you bought. Your hands were sweating so much so you held onto the bottle with both hands, not trusting your grip. The last thing you needed was to smash it on any of Tony's expensive carpets. You were met with a round of laughter when the elevator doors opened, presenting the Avengers all sat around the living area. Their eyes turned to you and Yelena with wide smiles and they all shouted hellos across the room. Wanda gave you a warm hug as Yelena high fived Bucky and you felt your nerves soften. 

"She's just finishing up." Wanda said knowingly. You wondered for a brief second if she had taken a peek into your mind but when you looked at the redhead she was smiling reassuringly at you and you realized it must have been obvious that you were anxious to see her again. Unlike Yelena, everyone else could tell you were Natasha's least favourite person. "For what it's worth she seems to be in a pretty good mood tonight." Wanda assured.

"Whose in a pretty good mood tonight?" Came the voice you had been dreading to hear. Natasha strolled into the living room with a content smile on her face but halted in her tracks once she saw you. You locked eyes for longer than you were comfortable with but you were determined not to look away. Sometimes you thought that if you asserted yourself more then maybe Natasha would at least respect you. Today wasn't the day for that because you looked away quicker than you would have hoped to. In your defence, it was really hard to maintain eye contact with the Black Widow. 

"What's she doing here?" Natasha spat. Oh. You winced as you rubbed the back of your neck, clearly the Russian wasn't aware that you were attending the dinner too. 

"I told you she was coming." Yelena said as she strolled towards her sister and gave her a bear hug. Natasha continued to glare at you from over her sister's shoulder. 

"I thought you were meant to be on a mission."

"Luckily it was over by lunch." You smiled weakly. "Meant there was still brownie left in the cafeteria." You laughed awkwardly but Natasha didn't respond. 

"If you want, I could give you the recipe for my brownies." Wanda said in an attempt to ease the overwhelming tension in the room. The Sokovian was always the best at that and you were sure it was entirely down to her calm demeanour.

"Really?" You asked hopefully as you all made your way to the dinner table. You avoided Natasha's eyes the whole time but consequently ended up taking a seat opposite her. You froze when you sat down, already under her heated gaze once again. You gulped thickly and turned to Yelena while you tried to ignore the pair of emerald eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

The rest of the dinner wasn't altogether awkward but it wasn't the most comfortable you'd ever been. Natasha didn't acknowledge you, though it was rare that she did, and you both engaged in separate conversations with the rest of the team. You had never known if there was a particular reason the redhead didn't like you. You guessed it was down to her being protective of her little sister, something you could understand given all they had been through. But you would never hurt your girlfriend, in fact you would do anything to avoid that. So it bothered you that there was nothing you could do to sway Natasha's opinion of you, because you had literally tried everything. You had been dating her sister for six months. Surely if she was going to accept you it would have happened already. 

When dinner was finished Natasha excused herself as Yelena picked up some plates and took them to the kitchen. You were hooked on a story Sam was telling when they left, both your elbows on the table as your face rested in your hands, eagerly waiting for Sam to reveal how he was able to escape a whole squadron of planes with a malfunctioning suit. As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, you didn’t get to experience half the things the Avengers did. Sure, you had had some crazy missions and your fair share of close calls, but their stories always won. 

Once Sam dramatically finished his story with some over the top sound effects, you noticed Yelena had missed a few plates and still wasn’t back. With the dishes in your hands, you made your way to the kitchen, soon hearing the strong accent of your girlfriend. “You're being unfair.” She scolded with a hushed aggression. 

“I’m trying to protect you, Lena.” Natasha’s voice fired back. Your ears pricked up at the verb and you were unsure of whether or not to leave the plates on a near table and go or stay to hear about the apparent threat your girlfriend was facing. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Oh and you’ve never done something reckless?” Reckless. That was a word you had seen in your S.H.I.E.L.D assessment reports enough times to get a vague idea of who the pair were talking about. Natasha being on the opposing side proved the point more. “When will you drop this?”

“You couldn’t have just dated a normal civilian? Or at least an agent that manages to not get themselves in harm's way on the way to the paper copier.” Well that was hardly accurate. S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t use paper copiers. 

“You know maybe if you spent less time being a bitch to her and more time actually getting to know her you would understand why I love her.” Yelena said in a more disappointed tone, most of the frustration drained away from exhaustion. You wondered how long they had been talking about this. Or if they had before. Yelena always acted like there wasn’t any tension between you and her sister. Maybe she thought if she ignored it things would sort themselves out. 

There was a heavy silence over the room so with a pang of guilt, you stepped out from behind the wall with the plates still in your hands, fauxing mild surprise when you saw them both, like you didn’t even know they were still there. If they saw through your act, they didn’t say anything. “Thanks, just put them there.” The blonde smiled and pointed at the counter near her. Natasha stayed silent as she watched you from the other side of the room. It always felt like she was studying you for any sign of a weakness when she looked at you, waiting to spot something she could use to strike. 

“You need a hand?” You asked as you spied the excessive bubbles in the sink that coaxed your girlfriend’s forearms. “Before you break something.” You joked and watched as Yelena’s cheeks tinted pink as she remembered the shattered glass in the bin at home. 

“She’s capable.” Natasha interrupted with stone cold glare. 

“That’s okay, detka (babe).” Yelena mumbled and kissed your cheek. “I’m just finishing up.” She said before looking briefly at her sister. “Then we’re going.”

*

To no surprise of your own, Natasha didn’t get any friendly towards you after what you could only assume wasn’t the first discussion the sister’s had had about you. In fact it got considerably worse; not straight away though, that came a few weeks after when the pair came rushing into the cafeteria. Yelena marched in the room with her eyes set on you as the redhead followed by her side, exclaiming something wildly with her hands. 

“This is insane. Yelena!” Unfortunately for Natasha, her sister’s stubbornness fiercely rivaled her own. 

“Hey, detka.” Yelena smiled as she sat down on the seat in front of you. You gave a small wave as you finished chewing your sandwich, eyeing the pair cautiously. Natasha continued to stand with her arms crossed, mumbling under her breath in Russian. “You busy now?” 

“Not really.” You shrugged and brushed the crumbs off your hands.

“Yelena, no.”

“Zamolchi (shut up)!” The blonde fired back. “That’s great,I could really use a hand on a mission.”

“I will go with you.” Natasha insisted but Yelena shooed her away distractedly. “They know who you are, it won’t work.” She hissed.

“That’s why disguises exist!” Natasha yelled, gaining the attention of every other S.H.I.E.L.D agent in the room. 

“It won’t work.” Your girlfriend said firmly, her choice was already made and set in stone. 

“Okay.” You shrugged and immediately fell under Natasha’s most heated glare. 

“Don’t you dare.” She gritted. “There are thousands of agents in this base alone and you’re picking the single most reckless one who will get you killed.” The redhead continued but Yelena, unlike you, wasn’t fazed. 

“Great, go pack your stuff.” Yelena cheered.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t fucking move.” Your body betrayed you, keeping you glued to your seat in fear of what method, of the hundreds the widow knew, she would choose to kill you if you stood up. 

“I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Yelena said earnestly to her sister. Natasha considered her sister carefully but still looked unconvinced when her younger sister gave a frustrated huff and took you by the hand to drag you to your feet and past her sister who surprisingly didn’t follow after you both. 

As your girlfriend led you down the halls she explained the basis of the mission, telling you how you were to set up a last minute buy with a high profile weapons smuggler. Annoyingly, that was how he worked, telling buyers the location and time of a deal at the last minute. Beneficially, he was a smug prick who only believed in carrying out deals on his own. While he would be armed, there would be no one else with him, making yours and Yelena’s job easier. Yelena was the sniper, shooting to kill. S.H.I.E.L.D had tried apprehending the guy alive but it always ended in casualties and they were finally done with going easy. 

You considered it all when you were changing into the outfit Yelena had given you, planning what exactly you could say to the dealer to get him to the specific part of the warehouse that Yelena could shoot at. You were buttoning up your white blouse when the door swung open and Natasha stepped through. “You sure you can handle this?” She asked right off the bat. 

“I’ve been through my training just like everyone else here, Natasha. I know you don’t think I’m capable but I’ve been on my fair share of missions and I know protocol and-”

“Just keep her safe.” The Russian said. You blinked and opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“I don’t care if Baros comes out of there in a body bag or in a limo.” You blinked again and continued with your shirt as you decided to just listen to Natasha. “But if one hair on Yelena’s head is harmed I will make you live to regret it for the remainder of your long and very painful days.” She said darkly and you could only nod dumbly. Natasha studied you for a long moment before turning around to head out of the room far less dramatically as she had entered. 

“She trusts me for a reason.” You couldn’t help but call out as the redhead opened the door. She glanced at you for a second and left as she called over her shoulder to you. 

“I don’t.”

*

“Do you want to get take out tonight? I was thinking that new Chinese place around the corner.” Yelena spoke clearly but she might as well have been thinking aloud because you couldn’t respond. She knew that of course. She knew that you speaking would ruin your cover if Baros had cameras set up around you. “So that’s a yes on the Chinese?” She continued. Okay she was definitely doing it because she knew you couldn’t respond. “Detka there’s no need for you to insist on paying. I owe you one right now.” You bit back a smile until the warehouse doors opened and Baros stepped through, watching you eagerly. 

“So nice of you to join me.” You deadpanned. You couldn’t help it. The guy literally chose the time and he was still half an hour late.

“Yes, my apologies.” Baros said in a very unapologetic tone. “Something came up.” He muttered as he placed a large box on the table and unlocked it with an 8 digit code although you were sure there was a lot more to it than that. Not that you cared about his weapons right now. “Now I hear I have something you’re interested in.” 

With that, the sale began. At first you thought you were in luck. Baros made a habit of strolling around the room as he explained various weapons that you pretended to be interested in, but he never went to the spot Yelena could shoot. It became irritating very quickly. You walked around too in an attempt to lead him to wear you needed him but he always backed off at the last second. You heard Yelena groan into the earpiece a few times too. 

“Is there anything here that’s of interest to you? Or are you more concerned with listening to whoever’s on the other end of that earpiece?” Your eyes snapped to Baros as he watched you curiously. “Where is she?” He asked coldly. Your earpiece wasn’t meant to be visible and the thought that Baros had found a way to get around S.H.I.E.L.D’s technology concerned you greatly. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, I’m here alone.” You swallowed thickly. Baros gave a throaty laugh in response, some primal hunting impulse starting up. 

“I’ve killed every S.H.I.E.L.D agent that has come after me, you and your friend will be no different. Now where is she?”

You wanted to charge at Baros. To knock him to the ground and wrap your hands tightly around his throat and squeeze long and tight enough to make him regret ever threatening your girlfriend. Except you couldn’t move. It wasn’t a fear induced freeze up like you had gotten from Natasha’s glares a few times. There was a much larger and more dangerous obstacle that stopped you moving. Something toxic. Baros gave another manic laugh as he watched that realisation dawn on you. But really, what was panicking you most was that Yelena had been silent for a long time. 

“You see, Agent l/n, while you were trying your hardest to get me to play your game, I was beating you at my own. I’ve grown immune to the toxin that’s been circulating the room since your arrival.” You trembled as you dropped to your knees and fell onto your side, only able to watch and listen. “And what your friend sees is a mere projection of us continuing business, audio included of course, so she won’t be coming to get you anytime soon.” You exhaled as heavily as you could in relief at the knowledge that Yelena was safe.

“Now where were we?” Baros asked as he knelt down besides you and lifted your head up, placing the flat of a blade against your cheek. “Oh yes, you were just about to tell me about the other one.”

“Go...to...hell.” You grimace, every word spoken feeling like one of the hardest things you had ever done. 

“I’m sure you’ll feel as though you’re there very shortly.” He muttered as the knife very slowly started to dig into your skin.

*

You had no idea how long you were with Baros, how long since he had first started slicing your skin, how long your bones had been broken or even how long since you had first started to cough up blood, most of it staying in your mouth because of your weak diaphragm. You had exceeded your limit long ago, only using your energy to make the occasional snarky comment that made the next attack harsher. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It made you feel like you had some control, as did the fact that you never said a word about Yelena.

A gargled scream was ripped from you when Baros pressed the burning hot knife against your latest stab wound, cauterising it to stop you bleeding out and keep you alive for as long as he needed you. A sickening smile crept onto his lips as he watched your eyes fill with tears once again and leant back once he was done. Much to your long awaited relief, that smile was wiped from his face when a spray of red erupted in front of you, shortly followed by Baros dropping to the ground next to you, dead on the spot he had accidentally stood in. 

You didn’t trust your relief, you didn’t trust yourself not to be hallucinated after the endless hours of torture, even when a heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D team flooded into the room. A few gathered around you, asking questions you couldn’t quite understand as bright white lights filled your vision. Then you were being lifted into the air, not aware of the fabric of the stretcher beneath you until the back of your hand dropped onto it. You managed a small trace of a smile before you passed out. 

*

There was an arm draped across your stomach when you woke up. It was the first thing you felt, a fact that you were extremely grateful for. You blinked frantically a few times before you turned to look at your girlfriend sleeping by your side on the hospital bed. You smiled at the sight of her peaceful form and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear softly, careful not to wake her. You were glad you cherished that moment of peace and relief, because it wasn’t long before you had more company.

You took your hand away from Yelena’s face when Natasha walked in, settling to keep it by your side, although there was nothing you could do about the arm that was squished between yours and your girlfriend’s body. “I tried my best-” you started but Natasha shook her head. 

“You...you did great, y/n.” You smiled sheepishly, sure there were some drugs in your system. “No one could have done any better.” She said as her eyes flickered to the cuts on your face. “So thank you.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You shrugged. Natasha rolled her eyes but smiled faintly, something you never thought you would see directed at you. “I’d never let anything happen to her.” You said honestly. The redhead nodded as she looked at her sister.

“I know that now. I was just scared, I can’t loose her again and you have to admit you’re not the most reliable person on the planet.” You blushed and looked away. “But I trust you now and I’m sorry I doubted you.” She apologised sincerely.

“No harm, no foul.” You joked again, truly not knowing how you were meant to act around the Russian now that you were finally in her good books.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Natasha warned with a smirk. You chuckled lightly and watched as she made to leave. “You should get some rest.” She advised and you nodded but frowned when she was nearly out the door.

“How’d she know?” You asked, making Natasha turn back to you with a quirk of her brow. “That something wasn’t right.” The redhead smiled and shook her head.

“You hadn’t made a smart ass comment in ten minutes.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[mcheang]

Wrong Attention

I am still not finished with my hiatus. But I got such an inspiration for this idea…. This is a draft in which no akumas will be mentioned.

Gilderoy Lockhart’s hunger for fame can never be satisfied. So he manages to sell his books to muggles, pretending it is all fiction.

It is a hit, and Gilderoy even manages to sign a movie deal for Voyages with Vampires, starring Gilderoy Lockhart.

The setting will be in Paris, which was renown for akuma attacks, but he isn’t worried.

An excerpt from a Daily Prophet interview: “Evil butterflies are hardly more troublesome than doxies. The key is to not let them touch you. Yes, it is lucky for the Paris animal heroes that I shall be coming to lend my assistance and guidance!”

In Paris, many were excited to hear Adrien would be playing young Gilderoy Lockhart. The boy himself was a fan of the author….right until he met the man himself.

Gilderoy was so full of himself, barely the modest and self-sacrificing hero he wrote himself to be. And the man seemed to be determined to find out who was the better looking fellow.

Needless to say, Adrien had a stronger following in Paris and won the improvised beauty contest.

Anyway, Lockhart keeps barging in shoots uninvited to pose next to Adrien. This was how he met Lila who loved to boast about her connections and heroic deeds.

Knowing a popular figure when he saw one, Gilderoy became the perfect audience for Lila. He was insistent on every detail that Lila could give him.

Of course when Lila tried to gather the attention of anyone else, Lockhart would interrupt with his own tales and refuse to let her speak.

The distraction was welcome to Adrien who could get back to work.

One stormy night, under the invisibility cloak he robbed from one of his heroic victims, Lockhart visited Lila’s home as well as all her classmates and connections. Ah, the benefits of apparition.

With every memory of Lila’s good deeds erased, Lockhart modified the memory so they would think he did all the admirable work.

All was going well until he visited the Agreste Mansion. As a cat kwami, Plagg was more likely to be awake at night. Especially if he could sneak out more cheese under Adrien’s sleeping nose.

Quite bad luck for Lockhart.

As soon as Plagg heard an intruder blundering over his discarded cheese cartons, the wizard felt a cold, smelly breath come upon him. He immediately began sneezing, bent almost double. And oh no, his wand came flying out of his hand, rolling under the couch.

Lockhart lay down, disagreeing with the carpet’s state of cleanliness, to try to retrieve it.

Plagg bit him instead.

It is one thing to have the manifestation of destruction and bad luck breathe on you, it is another to have him bite you.

Gilderoy felt like he was dying and not willing to fight a mouse for his wand, he used the last of his willpower to Apparate at St. Mungo’s.

What a shame that Gilderoy’s attempts to fight off the akumas landed him in this state. The healers are working overtime to see him through but warn that his magic has suffered gravely.

In the meantime, since Gilderoy won’t be able to act, Kenneth Branagh will take his place.

At school, Adrien and Marinette are baffled as to why everyone thinks Gilderoy is responsible for all the good deeds Lila made up. The girl herself seems remarkably dull to everyone else now and Lila herself is wondering why she hasn’t tried to gain attention. She figures she did not want to deal with an akuma fallout if her classmates somehow learned the truth.

Unfortunately because of her lack of tales, that means she has quite a lot of homework to catch up. And what happened to her weekly allowance (spent on an extravagant dinner after relying on her classmates’ chairity). Lila’s attempts to extend the homework deadline are not accepted because it is too last minute and Ms Bustier knows she had plenty of free time to work on it.

Meanwhile, for the celebrities Gilderoy visited, considering they had nothing to do with Lila, when Gilderoy modified their non-existent memories of the girl to take her place, he actually just erased whatever memories they had of him!

[writing-in-april]

Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde (1/?)

Part One: The introduction

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Reader meets a mysterious stranger at the library during a book club meeting.

Part Two, Part Three

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hey Heyyy! This is my first Dom!Spencer fic in so long!!! My last one was also funnily enough for a fic swap as is this one! I had @aperrywilliams for the fic swap organized by @imagining-in-the-margins. I had so much fun writing this one- it’s based on a prompt that I got from @andiebeaword and @spencers-dria helped me by guiding me with the book club idea- with a little twist! I am considering making this a series, if y’all are interested PLEASE let me know- I really want to because I had so much fun writing this. Thanks to all y’all for reading and requests are open!!

Warnings: 18+, Dom Spencer, Public Sex (is anyone that surprised??), Impact Play, Post Prison Spencer, Use of the nickname Doctor during sex, Spencer is a brat tamer, Spencer is morally ambiguous but doesn’t do anything explicitly immoral

Main Masterlist Word Count: 3.0k

As soon as you walked in through the large wooden doors it felt like history hit you over the head with a book. Even though it was on the small side for a library it still probably held more books than a normal public library, almost every wall was adorned with built-in shelves stacked from bottom to top with old books. They ranged in every subject you could think imaginable, from every point in history imaginable, and from every point of view that was imaginable. When you had first discovered this place it had felt like you had been transported to another world. You were surprised that more people didn’t know about this old library nestled in the corners of D.C, it was just sitting there idly watching as history passed by day by day, while it sat writing down all its secrets.

A meeting of the classics was scrawled on the standing white board you saw right when you walked into the library. A meeting of the classics from 7pm to 11:30 in reading room C were the exact words, you didn’t even really need to read them as you had been looking forward to this event for weeks.

You made your way down to the reading room that was specified, only encountering a few stragglers similar to yourself on the way down. You were somewhat new to the events that this library ran, only coming to the past four months. It was quickly becoming your favorite thing to do every month.

There was always a theme to each of the parties, ranging from different eras of history, specific novels, and including things that were open to interpretation. Tonight’s theme was as stated on the white board, a meeting of the classics, which had been described as “Pick your favorite literary icon from a classic novel and dress up as them.”

You had decided to not pick a character from a classic novel, but rather an author, Mary Shelly. You based your entire look on the iconic writer of Frankenstein (with a twist of course) because it had been your favorite novel as a child, it still was your favorite novel.

Once you had made it into the large reading room you took in the full room like you did every week. People were dressed as many outlandish characters, with some being more difficult to decipher than others. As you walked around the reading room you could feel the eyes of another on you.

You could feel his stare following you intently as you walked around mingling with the others that you had met before. The eyes belonged to a man you hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet, a man dressed as someone instantly recognizable, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. What other iconic character would be split down the middle, half innocent doctor and half evil alter ego.

Even behind the costume you could tell how attractive the man was. He was extremely tall and lanky, with deep brown eyes and the fluffiest brown hair you had ever seen.

“Who’s that?” You asked the married lady and gentlemen dressed up as Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy. Maybe it was shameful that you didn’t know their actual names, but you guess that’s what some people want when they come to an event like this

“That’s Dr. Spencer Reid, he hasn’t been here for a while and he sometimes misses things because of work. You didn’t hear it from me, but I heard he got in trouble with the law, that’s why he hasn’t been here for almost six months.” Her gossipy voice was drenched in fake sugar that made you gag on the inside. You still did appreciate her information as it gained you the name of the man who couldn’t stop staring at you like he was trying to figure you out.

“Must not have been that bad if he’s already out now, or maybe he’s innocent.” Ms. Bennet shrugged her shoulders at that. You may have even been naive to not heed her warning, but the idea of getting to know the mysterious fluffy haired man that had been staring at you all night was too intriguing for you to ignore.

“Who are you?” The mysterious man asked when he finally decided to approach you instead of staring at you from across the room.

Trying to maintain the same level of mystery as the man had you dodging his question with a simple redirect, “Who’s asking?”

“I thought it was quite obvious who I was.” He was right it was obvious, but why would you let him know that despite the fact that you knew what character he was you could tell the man underneath was the real mystery of it all.

“You’re the one who is not obvious.” The back and forth you had already picked up with him was thrilling, you sensed the fact that in most conversations you would have with him it would be a kind of battle that you would have to win.

“If you must know, kind sir, I am dressed as Mary Shelly, author of Frankenstein, with a bit of a modern twist.” You made sure to call him sir instead of his earned honorific this time, to see if it would poke any buttons.

“I am not a sir since my name is Dr. Spencer Reid. I can see now who you are dressed as, but I would still argue that it is not what the intentions were when they set this up.” You could tell that he was only teasing you with the way the inflections of his voice sounded, you were glad your teasing had been a moderate success.

You did also provide him your name before deciding to poke his buttons once more,“But, isn’t she a classic, Dr. Reid?”

“But, you have not made her a classic anymore by putting as you say a ‘modern twist on things’ though I must say it does look well made.” You would’ve been offended if you could not tell that it was all in jest, though you still got the sense that you still were not seeing what all this man was about.

“Thank you, Doctor I made it myself. However, you still haven’t answered my question yet, Dr. Reid.” You asked the next question hoping he would get what you were implying, “Who are you?”

“I suspect you may already know, but I am dressed half as Dr. Jekyll and half as Mr. Hyde.” At least he started to somewhat catch on to the hidden meaning in your words, though you still had not dug up the real answer you were looking for. He was too intriguing to persuade you to stop digging, you wanted to find who the doctor really was, not the partial mask he was still using.

“Yes, I suspected as much, but aren’t you breaking the rules by dressing up as technically two characters?”

“Were there rules that said I couldn’t dress up as two characters?” He fell nicely into the small trap you had set for him, retorting quickly without thinking. Which you found odd for a man that was clearly intelligent.

“No, but were there rules that said I couldn’t dress up as a classic author with my own twist?” The look on his face had let you know you had won the debate. You smirked with triumph as you glanced over the man, taking note of each of his handsome features in case you would never see him again.

You decided to pivot the conversation to another question that was on the forefront of your mind,“Do you have a dark side, Dr. Reid?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” He was deflecting, but he didn’t seem agitated by your question, simply amused by your dogged curiosity.

“I am curious though, what are you exactly underneath it all Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?” Your coy smile was most definitely not lost on him, he could see right through your facade. He could see right through Mary Shelly to find the true you underneath. You only wished you could figure him out as well, you wondered how he got so good at being able to read people in an instant.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” Well, at least you got the answer to what you were looking for, even if the answer wasn’t as straightforward as you may have been expecting. But, you were realizing that Dr. Spencer Reid was probably anything but straightforward.

Your heart was pumping fast, his words had a bigger effect on you than he had probably expected, your panties hidden underneath your long dress were dampening quickly. Though as you saw the smirk on his face grow as you fidgeted in your chair you realized that maybe this was intention all along.

You excused yourself for a moment with a veiled excuse of going to the bathroom. You hoped he’d follow right behind you, to see that you were going to one of the empty reading rooms. If you had read his intentions correctly the heavy doors on each of the rooms should significantly squash any noises he or you would make.

Sure enough after an appropriate amount of time had passed so as to not raise suspicion, the good doctor (that may or may not be good at all) entered the empty room.

He brought you into a dominating kiss that made you want to cower at the same time as be completely defiant. You fought with valor as he tried to consume you entirely with the kiss, not letting his tongue slip into your mouth for as long as you could hold off. In the end you still lost the fight when he lifted you up onto one of the large wooden desks in the room, causing a gasp to fall from your lips that finally gave him full access to your hot wet mouth. He suddenly pulled away to pinch your cheeks together with his hand to make you look at him which made you whimper pathetically at first, but you appreciated his next question immensely.

“Do you want this?” You nodded as vigorously as you could with his hand pinching your cheeks.

He however was not satisfied with my eager nod and prompted you to confirm once more with an even harsher tone, “Speak up when you’re talking.”

“Yes, Doctor.” You replied with his honorific instinctually and you were pleasantly surprised with the eager groan that came from his lips in response. Plus, you were slightly rewarded with being able to feel his lips on your collarbone, sending even more shivers down your spine.

“Let me know immediately if that changes.” The contrast of his sweet meaning words with his hand gripping your jaw was jarring, but you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. It just made you want to be as bratty as possible because even if he was harsh there was still the underlying care in everything he did, you felt safe.

“Maybe I should just call you Mister instead, since that’s clearly your dominant side.”He growled into your neck that was quickly getting covered in hickies, next thing you knew he flipped you around to face the desk closest to you with your back to his chest.

“Bend over.” He commanded, to which in response you opened your mouth to retort. Instead of letting you run your mouth as you had done before he wound his hands through your hair and pushed you down to take the position he wanted. He then pulled up your dress to uncover the panties you had soaked through. You thought maybe he was going to give me some relief of the ache in my core, but you were given a harsh slap on your ass instead.

A whimper involuntarily came out from your lips from the harshness of the slap that you assumed was revenge for not following his commands. He then spoke with deadly conviction, “I want you to say thank you, doctor after every time I spank you.”

You only agreed because you were afraid that if you did not comply now he may not give you what you wanted. So, as soon as the next stinging slap came down on the same spot as before the phrase fell from your lips, “Thank you, Doctor!”

He continued his repeated hits onto your ass and you made sure to never miss thanking him with a cry. Once he was satisfied with how much you were punished for your sassy remark he rubbed over the inflamed skin of your ass with his large, unbelieving hands. He moved your panties to the side to dip his deft fingers to run through your folds, collecting some of your wetness. You whined loudly and perhaps pathetically in response to him only lighting touching you instead of obliging the heat you felt everywhere.

“Be patient, you’ll get what you want since you decided to start listening to me.” He snapped which caused your knees to buckle again.

“I can be patient, Doctor.” He definitely appreciated the continued use of his honorific in this scandalous situation as he let out a groan almost every time you said it. Instead of answering you he started to undo the pants of his outfit, a pair of slacks that were also equally as split as the rest of his costume. You didn’t look back to see his cock because you did not want to be punished by him twice in one night. But, you certainly felt it.

You could tell just as he was running the head of his cock through your folds and pulling your panties to the side again that he would be the biggest you had ever been with. What should have worried you slightly only ended up sending a shock through your core instead. He was at least somewhat gentle when he finally started to enter you, letting you get somewhat adjusted before sinking in all the way to the hilt.

As soon as he sensed that you had adjusted he started a rough brutal pace, not that you were complaining as he hit all of your most sensitive spots as his cock dragged through your walls.

He made no effort to stifle the loud moans that were coming from your mouth, maybe he thought the thick wooden doors would stifle the noises. But, there was no way no one would be able to hear the unintelligible wails that were coming from you.

“You like bringing out this side of me don’t you?” He rasped out after he pushed your torso back down to flat on the desk once you started to lift yourself up on your elbows. When you only answered with a noise that was not understandable he prompted you to speak up with another slap on your ass and said, “I said earlier to speak up when you’re trying to talk to someone.”

“Yes, Doctor!” You finally were able to cry out with a few more slaps to your ass from him.

Each time you kept getting close to the edge he’d pull away from you slightly dashing your orgasm away from you cruelly. Each time you decided to whine out loud to voice your displeasure even if it was involuntarily he would just prolong edging you for even longer. You were babbling incoherently when he pulled you by the hair so your back was pressed into his chest and after a few more moments of hearing you beg nonsensically with tears in your eyes he finally gave you the command,

“You can cum.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” You wailed as your orgasm washed over you in devastating waves, you were sure no other man had made you finish so hard in your life. You kept repeating, “Thank you, Doctor!”over and over until you had completely come down from what was arguably the best orgasm of your life. Your own orgasm helped propel his forward, and you made sure to confirm out loud that you were ok with him cumming inside you. The warmth that filled you as he pumped into you a few more times caused one last groan to come from you that was weirdly harmonious with the groan from the doctor.

Normal aftercare wasn’t really applicable in this type of situation, you hardly knew him and the added fact that you were in an old library with a party down the hall didn’t help either. He still cleaned you up with a softness you had yet to see from him during your short encounter. Aloe probably would’ve been the best option to soothe your raw bottom, but he did massage you for a few minutes after he cleaned the rest of you. He had even made sure your clothes that were not period accurate, as he had pointed out earlier, were neat before you both left. There were no cuddles and soft loving words exchanged, but you still felt immensely cared for by a man who claims he might not be a good man. He was a strange case.

“You still never answered my question, Doctor.” You stated as you stood on the steps of the library after you two had slipped out to leave.

“That’s because I still don’t have an answer.” And, with that you parted ways into the cool air of D.C. You hoped he had the same feelings as you when you had both parted ways, you wanted to see him again. There was another meeting next month, maybe then you would get your chance again.

The thrill that ran through your veins whenever you interacted with him, whether he was fucking you or having a rousing conversation about classic literature made you want him no matter whether he was Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. You’d take them both.

Part Two, Part Three| Series Masterlist

———

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom Spencer (new tag list):

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Battle

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse, you and the others fly to Cairo to confront Apocalypse and his soldiers in an attempt to rescue Xavier.

Warnings: Apocalypse being a leg breaking, hero strangling jerk. Characters fighting for their lives, but bookended with fluff from Peter x Reader pairing.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp, @wintwrsoldiwr, @tommy-braccoli, @amourtentiaa

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

———————————

You’d at least gotten to clean up somewhat. Earlier as Hank and the new woman you’d just met, Moira, had worked on readying the jet, you’d found some bit of helpful supplies. Clean rags to wipe off the blood, and bandages that’d you’d hurriedly applied to your shallow claw wounds.

All the remnants of your restraints were gone, and your old, torn clothes you’d just tossed in favor of the thin jumpsuit and lightly armored black flight suit over the top of it. You all wore these suits, commandeered with this experimental jet now rumbling beneath you as you shot off to Cairo together.

There was silence for a good while, after some initial nervous chatter and joking from the others. It would have been too easy to fill this quiet with any of the myriad of questions still rushing through your brain, but you really had just listened and little more when they’d filled you in earlier with the gist of what they’d learned.

All that really mattered was that the Professor was being held captive by a seemingly omnipotent mutant. One that had now declared war on all and recruited his own powerful soldiers. This was a rescue mission, with likely all your lives at stake.

You leaned your head back, wondering if anyone else would really even know or care what had happened to you if you never came back from this.

The escape from Stryker’s lab had been life threatening as well of course, but it was so different when it’d just been one thing after another. Events unfolding too quickly to really develop any sense of dread, it’d been all adrenaline and luck really.

But even in a jet like this, flying all the way to Egypt was more than just a skip and a jump. It was well enough time to dwell on your own inexperience and shortcomings, to wonder if this was the last time you’d ever do anything at all.

“Hey,” Peter’s voice was quiet, just to you, as you glanced over, having been mired only in your own thoughts until that moment.

He was sitting beside you, both of you strapped in these jump seats that ran along both sides of the jet. Vaguely you realized the others had started talking once more as well then. Maybe that was why he felt more comfortable speaking to you again now.

He hadn’t addressed you directly since you’d reunited with the others. Though you wouldn’t blame him if he was just as nervous as you were deep down. But from his self deprecating jokes in front of your friends earlier, about still living at home with his mother, he would at least seem better at hiding fear if he did have any.

“Hey,” You answered back reflexively, looking at him fully again.

“So uh....” He was chewing a piece of gum, as if some part of him still had to stay in motion in order to remain comfortable. “That car, that was pretty sweet. That yours or what?”

Honestly it took you a very long, awkward pause before you could piece together any idea of what he was referring to. But being that you’d only known him since literally just earlier today, there wasn’t anything else he could possibly mean. “The yellow convertible?” You questioned anyway, not really surprised by much of anything now.

“Yeah, I mean, I take the road if there is one. I saw you guys on the way to the house,” He answered, still offering a little explanation regardless. “Looked like you knew what you were doing though.” There was a more sheepish grin emerging. “I was going to stop and say hey I guess. But then I saw the, you know, fireball coming out the house and all, had to go see what that was about. Save everybody or whatever...” He trailed off after a bit, maybe realizing that you were just letting him ramble.

It reminded you of how you’d acted with him during the whole lab fiasco. He seemed the more confident one down there, while you got easily flustered. You really wondered if having your friends here now was making the difference. As if he was more unsure of himself when there was a potential audience to hear what you might say back to him.

It was interesting, getting to put more of those pieces together, or at least starting to be able to when it came to him. For putting on the display of an extrovert, and if you could finally admit it, even him being an outright flirt, you felt more and more sure that that was only skin deep really. That was just the outer layer he protected himself with.

“It was one of the Professor’s cars,” You smiled genuinely, probably the first one since they’d told you where you were going in this jet and why. “We were on our way back from the mall.”

That warmth from you seemed to ease him back into his normal tone, maybe a slight relief in him that you didn’t find it off putting that he’d already taken notice of you before you even knew he was anywhere around.

“Oh, mallrat, huh?” He quipped, “I can picture that.”

He was teasing, but you gave it right back. “There is no way you can tell me that you don’t end up in music stores wherever you live, like a lot.” You hadn’t forgotten his band t-shirt after all. You thought you’d seen him putting away headphones at some point too. “And that leather jacket and pants you had? Come on, that didn’t come from some bargain clothes rack.”

You might have had him for just a moment there. Just a flicker of surprise in his eyes to know you really had paid him that much attention, before he retorted, “Hey, what’s the point of a fast car if it has no style, right?”

“Says the guy who most people can’t even see until he slows down.” But you were purposeful to make clear in your tone that that wasn’t an insult at all, just continuing a little more bravely afterward, “Though their loss I guess.”

There was no mistake then, he really did pause. You could feel the slightest bit of heat in your face again, but you were not about to take that back. Not when you didn’t even know what was really awaiting you all at the end of this flight.

And you were still the next one to speak, that resolve remaining. “If we make it out of this, maybe you can come with me back over there to our mall. Help me pick out some new stuff.” You tried not to make it sound funny, but on some cosmic level it still was. “Seeing as how my room and everything I owned was incinerated and all.”

“Deal.” He said immediately. Only a little afterward seeming to realize that maybe he sounded a bit too eager. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “I mean, I’m pretty good at Ms. Pac Man too. They have an arcade, right?”

“Yes.” You answered, trying not to look too amused, and going along with him to help him feel more comfortable. “I can’t say I’m actually any good, but they do have a Flash Gordon pinball machine I always play. And a couple of air hockey tables. That’s my go-to.” No question with his speed that he would likely annihilate you on both. But the idea of being in a much simpler, safer place like that with him some day was a pleasant one right now.

“Oh yeah. I can show you a thing or two.” He was clearly back in his element then, looking smug once more.

“I’m sure you will.” You could only wonder if the god complex mutant and his lackeys you were now off to go challenge would have any idea that in the back of your mind you’d now be dreaming of a simple date in an arcade as extra motivation to get back home in one piece.

———————————

It wasn’t long before things had started spiraling in quick succession again. You’d all arrived in Cairo to find it essentially destroyed, save for what this fake god had already erected in monument to himself. A huge pyramid in the style of the ancient Egyptians, one he’d taken Xavier hostage inside.

It hadn’t been clear though how much of the destruction was done by this mutant, and how much had actually been at Magneto’s hands as it was with more shock that you’d found him in the middle of this as well. Now serving this apocalyptic mutant.

You knew enough about Magneto to both fear and respect him. Even though his history with the Professor went back so many years, Erik Lehnsherr as he was actually named was always more on the side of peace through violence. While Xavier preached ideals of tolerance and education for regular humans to one day accept mutant kind, Magneto thought them incapable of such, and had no qualms on preemptive strikes against non mutants as well as eye for an eye type vengeance.

But even for Magneto this seemed surprising. He would really just give Xavier up this way? As you’d gotten closer, Jean had sensed that Apocalypse (what you were now calling the new enemy in your own mind) intended to take over the Professor’s body, possessing him permanently to gain access to his mind control powers and become basically omniscient. He’d be unstoppable with everyone as his puppets then. Free will would cease to exist.

“You guys help Nightcrawler get into the pyramid!” Raven called back to all of you as the jet was landing. “Get Charles and I’ll take care of Erik.”

You’d snapped back to attention at the orders, and you saw that Peter was suddenly at her side.

He looked so focused all at once, “I can get you in there,” He told her, referring to the debris field of broken buildings and all else now churning, stuck in a huge magnetic orb with Magneto at its center. When she didn’t look sure, he continued quickly. “I came here for him, let me help you.”

Raven nodded to Peter then in agreement, knowing there was no time for more back and forth. “The rest of you, get Charles on this plane and get him out of here!”

You too knew what was at stake, there was no reason to argue, even if there still must have been concern on your face. You didn’t understand Peter’s change and sudden fixation on Magneto.

But it was only Kurt that spoke up immediately, yelling back to Raven and Peter, “We’re not leaving without you!”

Peter looked back at that, “Don’t worry.” In fact, you realized he was looking directly to you for one moment. “We’ll catch up.”

———————————

While Peter had sped Raven out of sight to try and reason with Magneto, Moira had stayed with the jet and Hank had come with you, Scott, Jean, and Kurt.

But as you all ran along the rubble, trying to make your way to the pyramid, it hadn’t been but moments until you encountered Apocalypse’s other soldiers, mutants set on stopping you all from interfering by any means necessary.

A tall, blonde man with wings made out of metal, a ninja seeming woman with a pinkish purple energy she could wield from her hand like a blade even while also carrying a katana, and a girl nearer your own age with stark white hair and seemingly the most power out of the three as she’d flown right towards you throwing lightning bolts from her hands.

You’d had no choice but to split up. Which you were sure was what they’d wanted even as you’d chosen to try and take the white haired girl’s attention. You didn’t really want to find out what would happen if one of those bolts struck you directly, but you could guess you had the best chance of anyone to maybe absorb some of it in your energy form.

You’d immediately powered up, glowing white as she’d chased you around the sky, both of you darting and flying in some kind of bizarre dog fight.

Your heart had been racing though, no amount of training at the mansion could actually prepare you for dueling with someone who actually wished to harm you. Everything to this point had just been about learning to control your powers, maybe even firing an energy blast at a dummy or paper target or two. But you’d never tried to hurt anyone. Not on purpose.

“Why are you helping him!?” You yelled out to her, swerving again as she tried to get close enough to you to land a hit. You generated an orb of light energy from one hand, letting it destabilize before you threw it towards her. It collapsed into itself, exploding to make a shockwave through the air that pushed her back again.

“He’s going to make it so we never have to hide what we are again!” She growled back in frustration, steadying herself in the air before her eyes hazed over into solid white.

You doubted that could be good, and of course it wasn’t as she raised her arms, a tornado like blast of wind then trying to knock you from the sky. You were able to shield yourself somewhat with your force fields, but the barrage of debris and wreckage that came with the winds made it too difficult to keep track of her as she did nearly land a direct lightning strike then.

“You’re wrong!” You yelled back, even as you felt numb and disoriented briefly, like the electricity surge was messing with your own energy. “He’s just using all of you! He only wants slaves, nothing more! And you’re just going to hand us all to him!”

She didn’t answer back after that, but you knew it wasn’t as if you could change anyone’s mind for them. She’d have to live with her own choices, just as you’d have to live with yours.

After a good while of this tit for tat though, you were really trying to take her out of the sky at last, knowing you needed to find and help the others as this had already been going on for far too long. You started trying to get her in the chest with white energy beam after energy beam shooting from your hands. She was fast, but you were able to at least get her in one shoulder at last as she spun with the force, losing altitude quickly with the hit.

Even as she fell, you could see her already correcting course though, trying to take aim at you again as she glared upwards.

But you didn’t get to see what happened next. A three fingered hand grasped your left arm suddenly from thin air, and then you were collapsing onto the floor of the jet you’d come here in.

“Gotcha, time to go!” Kurt spoke quickly as you looked to him in surprise, that strange burning smell hanging in the air briefly that always accompanied his teleporting. It was as instant a feeling as moving with Peter, but thankfully without the subsequent vertigo as you stood quickly, powering down, even as you were already looking around for the speedster.

With relief you did see Jean cradling the Professor’s head as they sat on the floor, Xavier unconscious but still breathing. But you did not see Peter or Raven.

Moira and Hank were already firing up the jet engines and you grabbed hold to the wall as you felt the craft quickly rising. “What about Peter and Raven?” You called out over the noise of the turbines spooling up faster and faster.

“We’ll have to trust them to figure it out, we’ve got to get Charles out of here now!” Hank answered back, leaving no room for debate.

You felt an unease building in your stomach, but it was true that if Apocalypse got Xavier, that Peter, Raven, or anyone else would then no longer matter anyway. At least for now you could hope Peter would just take Raven and run somewhere far from here. Xavier and Jean could use their psychic abilities to find them later and you could reunite.

But a hard thud above you left you all looking upward as the jet rattled.

“What the hell was that!?” Moira called out.

As soon as you saw that pinkish energy blade emerging through the jet’s hull, you had already powered up again, glowing and ready to shield the others as best you could. Apocalypse’s soldiers were proving too difficult to shake.

Yet Jean had other plans, “Everyone, grab onto Kurt!” She yelled.

You didn’t know what altitude you were already at, but you knew it wasn’t a survivable one for the jet itself if it was ditched now. Yet a fight in this close of quarters with all your powers would likely end in the same result. So her choice wasn’t as irrational as it first seemed.

You reached one hand quickly back, firmly grabbing onto Kurt’s shoulder, even as you kept your other hand raised towards where the metal winged mutant and the blade wielding woman were now trying to force their way in through the breach they’d created in the hull.

“I’ve never done it with this many people!” Kurt warned as you all held to him.

“Get us out of here!” Jean commanded, her desperation bringing out a forcefulness you hadn’t yet seen from her.

But Kurt was still straining, the sound of his opening whatever portal he used clearly heard but not bringing you anywhere as he tried several times.

The man with the metal wings jumped down into the cockpit, now just feet away as you realized what you had to do.

“Go without me!” You screamed over the rush of wind now coming through the hull breach. You let go of Kurt, making direct eye contact with Jean.

You could get out on your own. At least you were going to try. It was the only way. Kurt wasn’t able to take you all.

You felt that Jean was listening, that she heard your thoughts and that as difficult as it was, she agreed just as quickly. It was the only way.

“Do it!” She urged Kurt even through the horrified look he gave you both.

“I’m taking it down.” You also heard her voice say in your head almost simultaneously. That briefest warning to ready yourself before she willed the controls to throw the plane into a nosedive and cause Apocalypse’s soldiers to lose their footing.

The last you saw of your other friends was still their shocked and frightened expressions as they disappeared from right in front of you. But this was your only chance as well, propelling yourself as fast you could, right through the fading cloud of gas they left behind and past the now tumbling winged mutant as all your focus went to that small square of sunlight that they’d cut into the hull.

It was your one window of survival. For just the briefest moment, you felt him try to grab hold of your leg as you flew past him. But you kicked him with the other leg as hard as you could manage, breaking free into the open air as the jet plummeted on without you.

Out the corner of your eye you saw the woman had remained on the outside of the jet, but jumped free from it as well. You lost sight of her as you both fell, focusing only on trying to slow your descent to a survivable speed. It was one thing to levitate yourself up from a neutral position, and wholly another to try and control your energy field around yourself enough to reverse the terminal velocity transferred to you from being within a crashing plane.

The ground still came too fast, too hard. You blacked out on impact, laying alone in the dirt as your light energy faded, receding back inside you.

————————————

An unknown time later, something jolted you awake. You could hear screaming as you opened your eyes. You were laying on your side. Everything hurt and you could taste blood in your mouth.

But you were already forcing yourself back up as you swallowed. Disoriented as you were, you still recognized that voice. It was Peter. He was hurt.

You were looking all around you, and it didn’t take long to see the source and reason for the screams.

Not far from you at all, Apocalypse stood in a clearing from all the rubble. Peter right beside him, half crumpled to the ground. One of Peter’s feet was encased in the earth, trapping him there like an animal in a snare. His other leg was clearly broken, twisted at a grossly unnatural angle.

You felt a foreign rage beginning to burn up inside you, but before you could even physically react you saw the woman with the katana again. Nowhere in your mind did you take any time to consider how she would look so clean and uninjured having just come from the same circumstances as you of barely escaping the crashing jet.

All you saw was her walking towards her master, sword at the ready to finish Peter.

“Stop, (Y/N)!”

Charles screaming inside your head was the only thing that kept you from revealing yourself at that moment.

“It’s Raven! I’m telling you, it’s Raven!” Even Charles was struggling to break through your flaring emotions, as he repeated himself desperately. “He’ll kill you, (Y/N)! Stay in place, I beg you!”

The Professor had never spoken to you in such a way before. You gripped onto the broken wall in front of you, still only just obscured from their view as you saw Apocalypse grab Peter by the hair, jerking the young man’s head back roughly to expose his throat to the woman.

“It’s Raven, please trust her!” Charles did not let go. You could feel him actually starting to control you even, something he had absolutely never done before, though your emotions were exploding like they also never had. He didn’t want you to make a life ending mistake.

“(Y/N), please.” He called again and you realized you were being held in place, unable to move out any further. You were forced to only watch as the woman raised her blade, Peter wincing in fear and pain beneath her as she swung it.

But it was only Apocalypse’s throat that ripped open. Yet even in your surprise, any sense of victory was still non existent. No blood poured from the wound, and it healed completely within moments as he only grabbed his supposed traitor by the neck, holding her up immediately.

Raven’s feet hung in the air while she choked, her blue skin and true appearance quickly returning as she could no longer control her disguise as Apocalypse strangled her.

And it was only then that you felt Xavier letting go of you, in his own shock as Apocalypse tried to bait him out.

“Charles! Come! Rescue your weaklings!” Apocalypse challenged aloud, still dangling the now helpless Raven while Peter stayed trapped at their feet. “Give your life for theirs!”

He was going to kill her right in front of you. You powered up, knowing there was no other choice. You had to-

“No. I’m still connected to him. Let me get in his head, (Y/N), then you can go to them.” The professor spoke quickly, yet with a touch of new resolve.

“Charles! Will you do nothing?” The false god continued to bellow.

This time you listened without being forced to. You did see Apocalypse pause as if Xavier was indeed making contact. It was still an agonizing wait, but when he finally let go of Raven, you allowed yourself some shred of hope. You’d never seen anyone be able to overpower the Professor mentally, once he was fully in.

But that hope was also short lived as just moments later Apocalypse raised his hand abruptly. At will he dissolved the outer wall of a nearby building. You could see Scott and Hank then exposed, themselves just as surprised and staring out. But you knew it could only mean that Apocalypse had used Xavier’s connection against him just that quickly to root out his hiding place.

This could be the end then. You resigned yourself that the only choice was to die fighting if that is what it had to be. But you weren’t as alone as you thought.

As Apocalypse had left Peter and Raven behind, now striding confidently to his prize, two massive steel beams suddenly shot into his path. They buried themselves into the ground, crossing into an X to block him.

You looked back into the sky, glad in this single moment that you had been right about at least one thing. Magneto wouldn’t give Xavier up in the end. Not without bloodshed anyway.

“You betray me?” Apocalypse asked, already turning to deal with Erik instead.

“No. I betrayed them.” Magneto unleashed hell then, every bit of metal he could pull shooting towards Apocalypse in an unending assault as the other raised a shield that incinerated each and every piece as it hit. But doing so clearly taxed him, allowing the perfect moment for the rest of you to join the battlefield.

You got to Peter almost simultaneously as Hank got to Raven. You and Beast were clearly in the same mindset of getting the injured out of the immediate firefight before you would join in.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, the Professor froze me,” You spoke in quick apology to Peter, using a small energy blast to break up the earth that had been hardened around his trapped foot. Once cracked, you broke the rest of it free just with your fingers.

He was obviously surprised, grateful, and maybe even confused all at once as you gently lifted him with the help of your powers. You wrapped his arm around your shoulders, trying to mind his broken leg as you helped support him while gliding over to a safer spot some distance away.

“Stay here.” You spoke, sitting him down so his back was against a mostly still standing wall to shelter them.

Hank was sitting Raven down in the same manner beside him as Peter suddenly spoke up to you. “Wait.”

You were still crouched in front of him, you’d been about to stand back up when his hand went around the back of your neck and pulled you in closer.

Before you could register anything else, you felt his lips press against yours. It was a bit harsh, desperate even, and then it was over just as fast as you pulled back in surprise.

“In case we don’t ever get to make it to that arcade,” he responded to your shocked expression that was still evident even in your energy form like this.

You took a breath, now was not the time for verbalizing any of this. But you wanted to show you agreed with the sentiment. You leaned back in, kissing him yourself for one longer moment, one hand gently cupping the side of his face before you stood back up. He allowed the contact readily and you could only wonder what it felt like to him when you were enveloped in light like this.

Hank and Raven just gave you both the most confused of looks, but nothing was said as you and Beast had then rushed back off to throw yourselves into the fight.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

New Start

For Maribat March day 15 theme new start

Master List

Marinette was lucky, she could admit that. Not because of the pocket-sized goddess of creation and luck she carried in her purse, but because of where she is. Sure, living with a magical emotional terrorist isn’t ideal, but it’s better than what her fate would have been had she never been found. 

Growing up on the streets of Gotham had been rough to put it lightly. Very lightly. In her time she had seen many good souls come and go, some to their deaths, some to better lives. She was grateful she was the latter, not many she knew had the opportunity she had to have a new start.

In other circumstances, Tom and Sabine would be horrible parents. After all 90 percent of the time they left her to her own devices. However in this case, it’s fine. For one, she was once a street kid, she knows how to take care of herself. And she is also Scarlet Luck, protector of Paris, wielder of the Ladybug miraculous, and newly appointed guardian of the miraculous. So them turning a blind eye to her sudden disappearances did wonders for her. 

All she needed in this life was a roof over her head and some decent food. Having her adoptive parents be bakers was a plus too. 

The only downside to this life was school. Not because she hated learning or the places school provided. No, she loved sitting in the silence of the library and doing her schoolwork or reading a book. And she especially loved the art room, where she found her love of designing and sewing. 

The problem was the people, the staff that mattered to her and her future, were all pushovers and she wasn’t allowed to transfer into Ms. Mendeleiev’s class. Ms. Bustier was the type to let the kids figure it out on their own, rather than step in when she was most needed. And Principal Damocles shouldn’t even be a principal with how much he caves in when it comes to the Mayor’s daughter or Rossi. 

She was thankful, however, that within her first month the students at Francoise Dupont learned not to mess with her. Or speak to her. Or be near her in general. And she was perfectly okay with that. She quite liked her spot in the back with Nathaniel, one of the only people she considered a friend. 

They had a silent agreement, which was to be silent and leave the other alone. Nathaniel would draw while Marinette would sketch and the 2 had each other's backs. Like when Marinette would whisper Nathaniel the answers during English and he would do the same with history. 

He along with Marc, Ondine, Aurore, Mireillie, and Kagami were the only ones she considered friends. Which means they were the only ones that knew why she was so on edge with the Wayne family being in Paris. Not only did none of them know how to control their emotions, but she was sure that Jason Todd-Wayne was bound to be akumatized. Why? Because every kid that was ever on the streets of Gotham knew his story. 

He was street smart, a dork, but most importantly aggressive. On the streets he picked fights with any who tried to cross him, and when he was adopted he fought the rich kids that went to Gotham Academy. That was another thing everyone knew, he hit it big when he got adopted by the billionaire that was Bruce Wayne. While she wasn’t on the street when he was she knew he was trouble. The whole Wayne family was, whether they knew it or not. 

She already had to deal with Chat every battle, she did not want to have to deal with one of the Waynes becoming an akuma. Not only would it cause an international affair considering how important they are to America, but it could get the attention of American reporters and then the Justice League might want to get involved. She didn't want to deal with the Justice League. 

Kagami was the only one brave enough to point out how she might be afraid that people from her hometown were coming to Paris. But she was wrong and Marinette made sure she never brought it up again. Through whatever means necessary.

Now one reason that Kagami was her best friend was because they agreed on something. Never hesitate. If you have an opportunity, take it. Something important that every street kid knows. 

Well here she was, standing in front of her classroom, hesitating. She could hear her classmates talking away, whichever Waynes were here trying to gain control of the situation. She guessed her teacher was either doing something out of the classroom or not bothering to get the class in check. 

With one final wish that today wouldn't be as shitty as she hoped she opened the door. According to Nathaniel she threw it open. 

And she was right, at the front of the classroom were 3 Wayne's trying to get her class to quiet down. Buster was nowhere in sight. 

Since Nino and Adrien were closest to the door they noticed her first, stopping their conversation and trying to 'subtly' stare at her. The others quickly following their lead. All eyes, including the Waynes, were staring at her. Wonderful.

Literally all she had to do was roll her eyes and everyone averted their eyes. It was always like something out of a movie. She made her way up the stairs up to Nathaniel and her seats. Grabbing a couple of macarons out of her bag she handed them over to him before setting her notebook and pencil on her desk. 

It looked like Lila was about to say something, but a glare had her swallowing her words back down her throat. Staring straight ahead she raised her eyebrow at the Waynes that were still staring, wondering if they were going to try and continue what they were originally trying to discuss. 

After a moment the oldest among them started talking again, the other two joined in, however she could tell when they would all cast her glances. She simply acted blissfully unaware, writing notes down for her and Nathaniel while he drew. She had no idea what his grades would be like if it weren't for her. 

-

This whole week had been full of surprises for Bruce. First the League finds out that there has been a magical terrorist in Paris for 3 years that they didn't know about, and these past 3 years children have been fighting him. 

So his family being detectives, they were sent to try and get information on the ‘akuma class’. He wanted it to just be him, Dick, Tim, and maybe Cass, but of course Dick wanted the whole family to come. Try to make a family vacation out of it despite the fact that there was a magical emotional terrorist that they were trying to track down and they needed to keep their emotions in check. He means no offense but that is something neither Jason nor Damian can do. 

But somehow Dick was able to get the whole family to come because only Dick can do that. And now he had Tim and Dick with him to try to talk to the akuma class about a presentation on starting a business a ploy to try and subtly get information out of them. 

They had already done background checks on them all and their families just to be safe and were thoroughly impressed by what they saw. Many of them were gifted in sports, arts, and academics, so perhaps they were just unlucky. 

The only one that concerned him was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Only Alfred was aware that the girl was from Gotham, she was specifically a street kid. Adopted 6 years ago by Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain the girl seemed quite bright. She had excellent grades and was in the art club. However he feared what his children might do with this information. And if another reason was because she had black hair, blue eyes, and a guaranteed tragic backstory being from Gotham that set his adoption instincts on fire NO ONE HAD TO KNOW! 

So here he was with Dick and Tim, trying to get this ‘akuma class’ to quiet down so they could start the presentation. The teacher has stepped out of the room to check something with the principal and ‘give them the floor’. She probably wanted to get a reason to escape this class, he might try to get an investigation done on this school and their faculty. 

From what he observed, Marinette seemed to be absent while most of the class had seemed to be paying attention to this one girl with brown hair in a sausage hairstyle, Lila Rossi, a pathological liar, although the class didn’t seem to know that. All except a redheaded boy in the back, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, a pink haired girl on the second row, Alixandra Kubdel, and a boy with a green shirt and glasses on the third row, Maxton Kante. There was also a blond boy, Adrien Agreste, who seemed to be listening to what the girl was saying with a fake smile he knew all too well. Poor boy. 

His sons weren’t having much more luck trying to gain the attention of the class. The redhead looked to be drawing, the green shirt and glasses boy was working on what appeared to be a robot, while the pink haired girl was on her phone. Every once in a while it seemed like she sent them a sympathetic glance, the other two boys too involved in what they were doing to give them any sympathy. 

Just as he was sure his kids were about to reach their breaking points in walked the one person he hoped not to see. She slammed the door open and suddenly the whole class quieted down immediately. Now his sons were looking at her as well. She couldn’t have been more than 5’3 and she was only 16, yet she managed to silence this whole class just by appearing. 

The class also seemed to be staring at her before she rolled her eyes and they all averted their gazes. It was one of the most movie-like things he had ever witnessed. 

She walked up the steps to the back, with each step she seemed to command attention before digging into her bag and handing Nathaniel who had once been doodling a bag of macarons. He seemed to appreciate them as he gave her a small smile before proceeding to munch on one. 

Lila who had once had the attention of the class seemed to be fuming now that the attention was off of her. It seemed like she was about to say something but stopped when she caught sight of the glare Marinette was giving her. 

Marinette then proceeded to turn her attention to him and his sons, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if they were going to start. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his sons exchange a look he knew all too well, before starting the presentation. And if he or his sons casted looks over to Marinette one too many times, no one noticed. 

Bonus - 

“WE FOUND A NEW WAYNE!” Dick shouted, far too happy with his discovery. 

“Tt, what are you on about Grayson?” Damian scoffed, curiosity and jealousy bubbling in his mind at the thought of a new Wayne. 

“There’s a girl in the akuma class, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She had black hair and blue eyes, both things needed to be adopted by Bruce.” Tim stated. 

“Does she have a tragic backstory?” Jason jokingly asked. 

“Do not look up anything on Ms. Dupain-Cheng. She has a family and I will not be adopting her. Am I clear?” Bruce demanded, waiting for everyone to agree before going to take a shower. 

“Babs?” Cass questioned, knowing the girl had to have found something. 

“Looking,” Babs replied, “Oh.” She stopped typing and just stared at the screen. 

“What’d you find?” Steph asked the question they were all wondering from Babs’ unusual reaction. 

“Guys,” Babs started, turning the screen to face them, “She’s from Gotham.” 

And from there all hell broke loose.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inspired by this post I saw a while back: 

Marinette being a street kid from Gotham but had no previous connection to any of the Waynes was intriguing so I did it. I’m probably going to do a backstory chapter later on, just unsure which day I’ll do it on. 

Of course yesterday I was early so today I was late. The universe needs its balance. So sorry for the late post guys, I blame the universe. 

@maribatmarch-2k21

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Book Club

For the anon who requested : can you do a professor remus one?

Remus Lupin x Reader

After complaints from parents about their kiddies not learning anything, Professor Binns was finally (politely) forced into retirement. That meant for the first time in centuries there was an opening for a History of Magic professor. You jumped on the opportunity immediately, never expecting to actually get the job. You were young, relatively inexperienced, but you were a wiz at history of magic, you had always been, even in your time at Hogwarts not too long ago. 

That’s why Dumbledore gave you the job. That and he was hoping that having someone young and relatable would inspire the students. And you hoped he was right, all you wanted to do was teach, from the time you were a young child. You sat nervously in your seat at the faculty table and looked around at all the young faces in front of you. You remembered being that young. 

“I would like to introduce two new professors this year that we are very lucky to have. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts will be Remus Lupin,” There was some scattered applause as a man a few seats down from you stood up, waving slightly. He was a handsome man, definitely older than yourself, but his eyes were even older than that. He had light scars on his face that were illuminated in the candlelight. “And replacing Professor Binns this year will be the lovely Y/N Y/L/N,” You took your turn to stand, there was a wolf whistle from somewhere in the gaggle of students. You flushed slightly and Dumbledore hushed them, “She’s recently been in your shoes, so I hope you will all take her knowledge to heart. Now, enjoy the feast!” 

You took your seat again, watching as the plates in front of you filled with delicious foods and your goblet filled itself to the brim with pumpkin juice. Merlin, you had missed Hogwarts. 

The first week of classes flew by in a whirl. You felt like you were slightly out of your league and you were beginning to panic. The kids were not much younger than yourself, and you felt like they didn’t quite respect you yet, and you had no idea how to gain it. You didn’t want to hand out detentions, that wasn’t your style. You didn’t want them to hate you or fear you via punishment. You wanted them to like you and to understand you were there to help them. 

One day between classes you were wandering the hallway, trying to clear your head when you heard a roar of laughter. You stopped, peaking into the cracked doorway. Professor Lupin was at the head of the class, and the students in front of him were laughing, grinning ear to ear. 

“Okay okay!” He raised his hand and the laughter died down, “Next up, remember,” He flicked his wand and spoke, “Riddikulus!” The next student stepped up and Lupin opened the chest at the front of the room, and a Bogart popped out, taking on the form of a giant snake. You watched from the hallway, smiling to yourself. 

“Remember, remember the spell! He called and the young girl looked at him worriedly before flourishing her wand and yelling out the spell. The snake morphed and changed and suddenly it was a giant clown, the students roared with laughter again. You remained watching, student after student went. They were learning, they were having fun. It was everything you wanted for your own class. Finally, a student stepped up, Harry Potter, you noticed. When his Bogart turned into a Dementor Lupin lept in front of him, and it changed into a full moon. You frowned. “Riddikulus,” He spoke, and suddenly it was gone, a balloon with the air let out from it. Everyone cackled but you continued to frown. Why would his biggest fear be the moon? “Alright, alright,” He announced, laughing, “That’s enough fun for today, I will see you all next class!” There were groans of protest from kids who didn’t go yet, but they all turned to shuffle out past you. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, I didn’t see you there,” Lupin greeted you, gesturing for you to come into the classroom, you stepped forward. 

“Sorry to impose, I heard laughter, I had to check it out,” You smiled politely at him, he smiled back. 

“I hope we weren’t too loud, Ms. Y/L/N.” 

“Absolutely not.” You assured him, “And please, call me Y/N.” He nodded his head, shifting around slightly. 

“Of course, Y/N. You’re welcome to call me Remus, if it pleases you.” He was so polite it was almost comical. You took a deep breath getting ready to ask the question on the tip of your tongue, but Remus spoke first. 

“How are you finding teaching so far?” He asked and you shrugged slightly, smiling sheepishly. 

“Alright, I actually wanted to ask you.. For advice.”

“Me? I’m sure there are much more qualified people to be giving out advice.” 

“Maybe, but none of them are new to being a professor. And your students seem to love you so much already. I want to know how you did it. Maybe over a cup of tea? I don’t feel like my students are connecting to me yet.” You explained and he nodded knowingly. 

“It’s a hard gig, especially so young.” 

“I feel like they think I’m just babysitting them,” You both chuckled. 

“How about Friday after lessons? My office, I can give you all the advice I have, even if it isn’t much.” You nodded and smiled. 

“Sounds lovely,” You checked the watch on your arm and nodded towards the door, “I have to go, it was good to finally meet you properly, Remus.” 

“You as well, Ms.- I mean, Y/N.” You laughed, offering him a small wave before turning to leave the classroom, looking forward to Friday. 

Friday rolled around faster than you thought it would, and you were grateful. You felt like your students were warming up to you, but there was still a disconnect. You walked to Remus’s office and knocked. A moment later the door opened and the man stood in front of you smiling softly. 

“Hello, Y/N.” 

“Hello Remus, how was your week?” You asked, stepping into the office. It was nicely decorated, and the bookshelves were brimming with literature, so much so that there were several boxes around the room with even more books in them still. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you waved him off.

“It’s lovely, have you read all of these?” You asked curiously as you followed the man to his desk, sitting in one of the plush seats on the opposite side while he settled behind it. 

“Most of them yes, there are some I haven’t gotten around to yet,” He admitted. You smiled, watching him conjure a teapot and two mugs over. He poured you each a glass. “How do you take your tea?” He asked, and you smiled sitting back in the comfortable chair.

“Just some sugar please,” He added a few cubes of sugar before setting the mug in front of you. “Did you go to Hogwarts?” 

“A few lifetimes ago, yes,” He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink, you stirred yours with your spoon waiting for the sugar to dissolve. 

“Oh come on, hardly.” You laughed, “Is it as odd for you as it is for me? To be here and not be a student?” Remus nodded his head. 

“Yes, it’s odd. Being here, being in charge, not being...” He paused, and eyed you slightly, “Not being a troublemaker.” That made you laugh harder. 

“You were a troublemaker?” You pressed and he shrugged before nodding, his eyes glistening slightly. 

“A bit, well my mates were, but they dragged me into everything,” 

“Brilliant,” You snickered. 

“What about you? All I’ve heard from other professors is how brilliant you were.” You flushed slightly, glancing away. 

“I’m not that brilliant, I only ever really excelled in history of magic. And that wasn’t hard considering most kids didn’t even want to be there. But I love it, I love to read. And I would love for my students to find it even half as interesting as I do.”

“So make it more interesting,” He prompted, and you sighed,

“It’s not like defense, I can’t very well let a Bogart loose in the classroom,” You teased and it was his turn to flush slightly. 

“I’m sure you could think of something more appropriate to the subject, you seem rather resourceful.” You sipped on your tea and hid your smile behind the mug. 

“I will try,” You assured, “I think it’s hard for them to respect me, they look at me and they see their siblings, or older kids they attended school with. They don’t think of me as a professor.” Remus put his mug down and looked at your thoughtfully. 

“I’m sure they respect you more than you give them credit for.” You shrugged, “Dumbledore would not have given you this position if he didn’t think you were more than qualified, just remember that.” You smiled and nodded your head. 

“Thank you, I think I needed to hear that,” 

“Of course,” You made small talk as you drank your tea, and you eventually put the empty mug down with a content sigh. 

“You know, we should start a book club.” The man across from you chuckled, raising an eyebrow. 

“A book club?”

“That was my polite way of asking to raid your little library you have yourself here,” You grinned and he chuckled again waving a hand towards the shelves. 

“By all means, anytime you’d like you’re welcome to borrow. Or else they just collect more dust.” That was all the invitation you needed, Remus watched amused as you excitedly got out of your seat, going to the closest bookshelf, running your finger over the spines. You stopped randomly on one and pulled it off the shelf, looking at the title. 

“One of my favorites,” Remus informed you, leaning back in his own chair as he watched you. “I highly recommend it.” You opened the book and read over the inside cover, smiling to yourself. Remus thought you had a wonderful smile, but he shook the thought from his head. You were way too young, too pretty for him. Besides, he had way too much baggage to be dating. 

“I’ll take it then,” You decided, coming back to his desk, “Want to meet next friday for tea and we can talk about it?” You offered, unsure if you were overstepping. 

“That sounds lovely,” You smiled and nodded your head, brushing your hair over your shoulder. 

“Brilliant, I will see you around then, Remus.” 

“Have a good day, Y/N,” With that you left his office, going back to your own to start on a new lesson plan. Something fun. 

This week went by better, things were getting easier. The students were engaged, and seemed to be enjoying your class more and more by the day, something you were elated about. They were asking questions, participating, and doing their assignments as instructed. In your free time you read the book you had borrowed from Remus, and he was right, it was a wonderful book. Written by a muggle about magic, and it was fun and interesting to see how they believed your world would be. Somethings were almost accurate but most of it was.. What was the word? Fantasy. 

Friday arrived again, and at the end of classes you made your way to Remus’s office, excited to see the man and to talk about the book. When you got there, Professor Snape was leaving and you nodded politely at the man. You never cared for him while you were a student, and now that you were a teacher your feelings hadn’t changed much. 

“Y/L/N.” He greeted in a draw before brushing past you, leaving the door ajar. You knocked on the doorframe, popping your head in. 

“Remus?” You called, and he looked up from where he had been rubbing his face with his hands. 

“Hello, Y/N, come on in,” You entered the office, shutting the door behind you. 

“Cheating on me with Snape?” You teased and he flushed.

“W-What?” 

“I’m just joking,” You assured, coming to sit in the lovely plush armchair. You would need to get yourself one of these. 

“Oh no, I know, I am sorry. He just stopped in to ask a question.” You nodded your head, tucking you feet up under your legs as you sat. 

“I don’t think he likes me,” You admitted, “Not even when I was a student,” 

“He doesn’t like anyone,” Remus assured you chuckling, “Not even when we were students.” He gestured with his wand and the teapot came over to his desk landing between the two of you were two mugs already sat. 

“You went to school with him?” You asked, surprised. 

“Yes, I unfortunately did.” You snickered at that, watching Remus pour you each a cup of tea, before placing sugar in yours and handing it over. You thanked him and took it, holding it in your hands, letting it warm you up. 

“How was that?” 

“He was mostly the same, we, he and my friends, never got on.” He admitted, “But don’t let my petty squabbles influence you.” You smirked, taking a sip of tea.

“Don’t worry, they don’t. I’ve never been fond of the man.” Remus smirked in return, nodding his head. 

“How did you like A Wizard of Earthsea?” He asked, and you produced the book from your robes, setting it on his desk.

“Oh I loved it,” You gushed, and he smiled. He wouldn’t tell you, but he truly enjoyed having someone around who enjoyed literature the way he did. You talked yourself through three mugs of tea about the book, conversation flowing nicely. When it got dark you finally checked your watch.

“Dinner is soon, we should go to the hall,” He checked his own watch, disappointed that your time together was over. 

“Pick another book before we go, if you’d like.” 

“I’d love to,” You grinned, taking the previous book and returning it to it’s spot on his shelf. You looked around before settling on another one, holding it up to him. “Good?”

“Ah, you’ve got brilliant taste,” He grinned and you returned the sentiment. Months passed like that, fall turned to winter, but the tea and talking about books with Remus every friday remained a constant in your life. You loved having something to look forward to every week, and it was nice to have a friend. 

You were on your way to your weekly meeting when you were intercepted by Severous Snape a few corridors away from his office. 

“Ms. Y/L/N.” He greeted and you smiled meekly at the man.

“Hello, Mr. Snape?” You greeted, unsure what you were supposed to call him. His face darkened slightly, you guessed that was wrong. 

“May I offer you some advice,” It wasn’t a question, you nodded, shifting from foot to foot. “I wouldn’t go around spending all your time with Remus Lupin, not if you like your job.” You blinked a few times. 

“Excuse me, sir?” 

“There are many things you don’t know about that man, dangerous things.” He continued ominously. You scoffed, that cardigan wearing man? Dangerous? “You’re a bright girl, I’m sure you’ve worked out his... furry little problem.” You frowned. You hadn’t. 

“I don’t think it’s your business to be sharing his business, do you sir?” Snape glared down at you, and you did your best to hold his gaze. 

“Just execute... caution.” He finished and with a flourish he was gone down the corridor and you were left alone with your thoughts. You went directly to Remus’s office, not knocking before you entered, face still screwed up in a glare. 

“Y/N,” He greeted, “What’s wrong?” His face fell slightly. You shrugged, coming to sit in your chair across from him. 

“Just ran into Snape in the hall,” You admitted. Remus didn’t say anything, but you could see he was nervous, “He told me to be careful around you, that you were dangerous.”

“Y/N..” 

“Said you had a furry little problem.” You continued, glancing up at the man, who was pale as a ghost. 

“D-did he?” 

“Your Bogart...” The pieces were all there, right in front of you, “You’re always ill, once a month...”

“Y/N...” He stood up, eyes widening, “Please,” 

“You’re a werewolf?” You whispered, meeting his eyes, and he immediately looked away from you. The question hung in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. You took your wand out, Remus still refusing to look at you, and you conjured the teapot over, pouring yourselves each a mug. “How do you take your tea?”

“What?” He spun around, like he was surprised you were even still there. 

“Tea, Remus, how do you take it?” You placed a few sugar cubes in your own mug then looked at him expectantly. 

“Oh, uhm, milk, no sugar.” You nodded, pouring a bit of milk into his mug before pushing it towards his chair. 

“I can’t believe I’ve never read this before,” You continued, placing the book on his desk and Remus slowly returned to his seat, hesitantly taking the mug. “Lord of the Rings, you said there were more of them?” You prodded, and he took a small sip of his tea. 

“Several,”

“Brilliant,” You smiled, tucking your feet up under your legs in your usual position. 

“Listen, Y/N...”

“Remus,” You spoke firmly, “It’s alright,” He waved his hand.

“No no, it’s not alright, Snape is right... I am dangerous.” You looked him up and down before smirking.

“I think I could take you in a duel,” He frowned at you.

“I’m being serious,” 

“You’re not dangerous Remus,” You argued. 

“I am, and ... and you shouldn’t be around me,”

“Too bad.” You shrugged, stirring your tea and taking a sip, “I rather like being around you.” He flushed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Snape is-”

“A git, I agree,” You took another sip, eyeing the man over your mug, daring him to argue with you, he chuckled.

“Well yes, but he has a point.” 

“He’s an arse, Remus, a fear mongering arse, He had no right to tell me that,” Remus shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t feel like he deserved this- you being so blase about this all. You should be running from him, screaming to everyone who would listen that he was a monster. But here you were, drinking tea with him, and discussing books. 

One the last day of school you went to your dear friend’s office, having heard the rumors by now. You knocked on the door before letting yourself in. The bookshelves were empty, and nothing but one last box sat on his desk. You frowned. 

“So it’s true,” 

“Parents don’t exactly want their kids being taught by a monster, Y/N.” You frowned deeper. 

“You’re not a monster, Remus, you’re a good man with a rotten condition.” He laughed bitterly. “You’re a good man Remus.” You repeated. 

“Whatever you say, arguing with you is pointless,” He teased slightly and you smirked coming to him, putting your hands on the back of the armchair you had grown to love.

“It’s yours.”

“Sorry?”

“The chair,” You looked down, surprised. “Put it in your office, these are yours too,” He gestured to the box of books on his desk, “I think you’ll like them.” You gazed into the box before coming around the desk to throw your arms around the man in a hug. 

“Promise me you’ll see me over the summer,”

“Y/N...”

“No excuses, take me out for tea, invite me over, talk to me about these lovely books of yours. We already agreed there is no point in arguing with me.” You chidded him. He hugged you back for a moment, letting himself breath you in before he pulled back. 

“I will,” He assured you, and you nodded. 

“Thank you Remus, for everything.”

“No thank you,” You smiled up at him before leaning up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on the man’s cheek. 

“I expect an owl as soon as you’re home safely,”

“Yes ma’am,” You both chuckled, “and I will see you Friday, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

“Promise me,” You demanded and he held out a pinky finger, which you took with your own. 

“Promise.”

[shadyteacup]

If you’re still doing requestsssssss how about a hcs of Dazai x fem! Reader who is like Midari from Kakegurui 😌

Ooh thats a nice one! Yes love, I'm still doing requestss

And I'm so sorry, this is so late... also it's very long n I'm not exaggerating. It's not even funny I'm so sorry

I'm Crazy, But I'm Free

Dazai x Fem!reader who is like Midari

• You and Dazai probably met during his days at the port mafia.

• I can imagine the mafia capturing you because of how much trouble you were causing in a casino.

• UK, when big businesses pay gangsters for security?? Yeah, similarly the casino you were playing at, has paid the mafia.

• You were already banned from many other casinos, as your games either end with you gaining a lot of money, or begin with a dangerous condition.

• Many people were quite afraid of you, and wanted to avoid even being in the same room as you, as they couldn't handle the severity of the danger you pose with every game.

• Anyways, so you were warned by a few members of the mafia twice, but you, being the fearless adventurer you are, flipped them off and continued to seek a life threatening game.

• So then the mafia decided to use violence, and cornered you in a dark alley. You pulled out your beloved gun.

"Well, well, well! Do you boys want a fight!?", you excitedly point the gun at them.

"Put your weapon down, Ms. L/N. We are here to warn you for the final time. Stay away from this casino. Further misbehavior will lead to dangerous consequences."

You hum, thinking up a plan.

"How about this. My revolver has 5 bullets. And there are five of us. How about we all take turns to shoot blindfolded!"

You excitedly shove them in a circular arrangement.

"I'll go first! The rules are that every person gets a chance to shoot from the center of the circle. If the bullet misses, everyone takes a step ahead, closer to the center."

You explain, grinning at the men clad in all black.

"If a bullet hits me, I'll agree to your terms. If it hits one of you lot, then you can't stop me anymore. What do you say?!"

The mafiosi were weirded out by this. What if you had a good aim, or an ability that allowed you to shoot them with your eyes closed? They didn't have much intel on you, and only knew you to be a girl from a rich background, who had come to Yokohama for higher studies.

"That's enough. Grab her-"

• Thats when our boy showed up. Dazai was curious when he overheard some of the men talk about some 'fearless girl that had flipped them off even after two rather threatening warnings.'

• So he had decided to tag along, staying in the shadows, until now.

• "I think it will be a wonderful idea. Play along, gentlemen. I want to see where this goes."

• You shot, and missed. So did the other guy. Then the other one. Now, the circle had shrunk really small. You were almost in the line of fire at this point. There was an 80% chance of getting shot.

• "That's enough." ,Dazai said, as he walked to stand in front of you.

• "You are daring, aren't you. You're not afraid of death."

• Staring into his eyes, you saw a reflection of yourself. A dark, lost soul stared back at you.

• "In fact, you arranged this little game to ensure that you got hurt. You perfectly planned it out, and ensured that as the circle gets smaller, you would be in the direct line of fire."

• "You missed the first shot on purpose, didn't you?"

• He had seen right through your game.

'What's this guy's deal?', you thought.

"Why would you stop the game when it was at its peak? Hah? Whats wrong with you, man?!", you angrily grab his collar. "I was just beginning to have fun, and here you are, ruinjng it!"

• Taken aback by your bravery, he just blinked at you.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, obviously, idiot. But that doesn't give you any right to interrupt our game."

"Oh? So who do you think I am."

You give him a 'baka janiono?' look.

"You are their leader. Probably an executive of the mafia, judging by your expensive suit. Why?"

The thoughts running through Dazai's head were along the lines of :

'Just who is this girl? How does she know about the mafia? Surely my men weren't dumb enough to tell her who they work for. How does she know about my position? She surely didn't just guess that, right?? And why the fuck does a student have a gun? Does her family have connections within the underworld? She obviously doesn't fear death. Will she be a good addition to the mafia?'

• "What are you thinking about, baka? Answer me."

• He smiled sweetly at you, and firmly gripped your wrist, pushing it off his collar.

"There's someone who would like to meet you"

Before you can retort back, he continues,"You seek adventure, do you not? You want to feel something worthwhile. Something akin to facing death, something that will give you an adrenaline rush. I can give you all of that. If you come with me, that is."

• Mori was shocked when he heard about what had happened. He agreed with Dazai's decision to make you join the ranks. He needed such fearless crackheads in his organization.

• He paired you up with the double black, making you an executive too. You hadn't quite agreed to his terms, but he had offered you to just accompany the ginger and the brunette on a mission. And had let you make the final decision .

• You three had to go to an abandoned warehouse, where some people were tampering with the mafia goods. There, you saw how sadistic Dazai was. How manipulative and bad he was. It made you fall for him. Hard. Plus, you realized the risk of being a mafiosi. It was quite thrilling.

• When you got back, you had screamed at mori to let you join. Quite literally begged. And he, ofcourse, agreed. You hadn't even given him a chance to threaten your life, which was the usual norm, when a valuable asset wasn't willing to join the ranks of the feared organization.

• You trained with dazai. And purposely got hit. It turned you on. But you never mentioned anything, in fear of being rejected.

• Dazai, ofcourse, noticed this, and one fine day, confronted you about it. You told him just how much you love him. He was always intrigued by your sadistic side. He saw a part of himself in you. The daring, brave, smart side of yours was something so similar to himself, yet unique. You were seeking the same thing that he was, that is to feel something. He felt sadness, and loneliness, and he never had a purpose in life. You, someone who had it all, a good family, a great marksheet, and a pre set goal in life, were willing to give it away, just to feel something. He, someone who was stripped off of a normal childhood, was never given the opportunity to choose. He used to think that maybe he was to blame. Maybe if he had had better luck, he would have gotten a good childhood, a purpose. But now that he knows you, a genius, smart person, who had it all, but threw it away, he realized that maybe life really is worthless. Maybe, he wasn't to be blamed. And that, oddly enough, made him feel better. To know that no matter how much lady luck favors him, life would still be fucked up, and that it wasn't his fault, made him hate himself less.

• And so, you two became a thing.

• Let's just say, that both of you are equally freaky.

• You want him to dom u, and he gladly accepts

• You guys try it all... I mean, especially with guns.

• I can imagine you both sitting at a boring meeting, when you decide to edge him on, and you're not even touching him. Your gun is.

• You both claim atleast one spare room on every floor of the building, for your.... activities.

• You are like his praise queen.

• He loves that.

• Always rough. Always. And you guys are into spicing it up.

• Anyways, you both never decide to commit double suicide.

• Thats because dazai wants a beautiful way out, while you want to feel the thrill of facing death. You don't really want to die, you just want to know the feeling of almost dying. You want to feel something exhilarating.

• When Dazai decides to leave the mafia, you are all for it. As long as you get to stay by his side, you were ok with it.

• Like Midari, you are a very perceptive person, and can easily guess what's going on in someone's mind. Dazai was easy to read for you, as his thoughts were pretty similar to your own.

• You were smart, cunning, and could read peoples mind with ease. So it was pretty easy for you to guess what's going on in Dazai's mind, sometimes even predicting his next moves.

• You really fit in with the ada, coz that place is filled with crackheads, and you and dazai are no exception lol

• Also, you get along with Yosano really well.

• Like, if you weren't so loyal to dazai, you would have become Yosanos slave. So would i ngl

• Anyways, you and dazai always mess with kunikida. You two prank him till the breaking point. You two are such a menace in the office. Always skipping work, slacking off, but really shining when it comes to actual detective work, like solving mysteries.

• You are a valuable asset to the ada, coz 1. You are smart and 2. You can intimidate the enemy into giving in, thanks to your sadistic games.

• You are also a very good companion. You can easily understand what the other is feeling, and end up comforting the gang.

• I can imagine you roasting Kunikida for being such a nerd, but at the same time giving him accurate and well needed advice .

• You do the same for your bf, and the two of you have many late night convos about topic that Dazai had never discussed with anyone before. Because no one had quite understood him the way you did.

• Midari is actually a pretty deep character, and just like her, you have many layers. There's the sadistic side, the goofy side, the careless side, the intelligent side and the insightful nature.

• You would be his perfect partner, as you'd support his crazy, reckless ideas, but at the same time keep him afloat, and prevent him from drowning in his own thoughts.

[cyberwolfwrites-fanfiction]

quiet day

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30435417

words: 4,462

summary:

In which Peter has his quiet days and some bad days.

And meets some people on those days.

(Might become more than a one-shot in the future.)

Peter sighed in relief as the car door shut behind him, muting the sound of the rain and hundreds of teenagers rushing out of the school. The post-school day rush usually didn't bother him anymore, but he'd woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. He'd been up all night finishing his English essay after a particularly rough patrol, and he'd woken up nearly an hour before his alarm was due to ring because of the couple two floors down fighting.

It wasn't just the sleep deprivation that had him all out of sorts, either. Living with little to no sleep was the life of a high school student (and a friendly neighbourhood superhero), and was relatively easy to deal with. However, Mr and Mrs Fights-A-Lot's loud disagreement had set the mood for Peter's day—loud and intense.

Ever since the spider bite, there were days where his senses seemed to be dialled up to eleven (more so than they already were, that was). Every little noise would just seem just a bit too loud, just a bit too grating on his ears, the usual smells of New York would make his stomach churn, the sun would just seem a little too bright and the clinical-like lights at school just a little too intense. The day, most often than not, ended up with him curling up in a ball of misery with a migraine.

Today was no different despite the rainy day. Rainy days usually calmed him. They meant curling up in Ben’s old chair with Ben’s old blanket, with Ben’s special hot chocolate (the secret was a small scoop of vanilla or chocolate ice cream), and movie marathons with May (since Ben was gone). Recently, the rain typically meant a reprieve from the loud sounds and smells of New York, but today all it managed to do was make every bad smell, every clinical-like light in school, and every sound seem so much worse and grating against his senses.

“Hey, Happy,” Peter mumbled after crawling into the car. He curled up on the leather seat and rested his forehead against the cool glass of the blackout windows, which blissfully blocked out most of the grey-filtered light from outside.

“Hey,” Happy greeted him. He’d become much more friendly with Peter ever since they (meaning Peter and Tony) started to have lab days together at the Tower and Happy ended up driving Peter to and from school at least three days a week. “Don’t forget your seatbelt.”

Peter fumbled with the seatbelt as Happy pulled away from the school before curling back up in a ball and huddling into his hoodie.

As Happy’s car was modified by Tony, that meant that the windows were tinted, it was sound-proofed, and it somehow managed to smell like fresh, cool air. All of this was bliss to Peter’s oversensitive senses, and by the time they reached the Tower, Peter had managed to drift into a light sleep.

"Kid, you mind if I drop you off out front?" Peter startled at the sound of Happy’s voice and his migraine came back full-force. "Boss needs me to pick up some things for him."

"S'fine," Peter mumbled groggily, having to force the words out as he tried to gather his bearings. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reluctantly dragged himself out of the car and into the cold downpour outside. He shivered and pulled up his hood, but it was no use—it was raining cats and dogs outside and he was already soaked through the moment he stepped out of the car. Due to this, Peter didn't bother rushing into the Tower, simply not able to muster up the energy to do anything other than shuffle to the door.

It opened at his presence and shut behind him, gaining the attention of some of the staff. One of the desk clerks—the one Peter could never get along with—glared at the puddle of water he was trailing in and made a rude comment under her breath that he could hear clearly despite his migraine. Peter would have apologized for the mess but he couldn't form the words; it felt like they were lodged in the cotton-like feeling that had taken residence in his mouth. Instead, he just self-consciously tugged his wet hoodie sleeves over his hands and headed to an elevator tucked away in a corner of the room. It was one of the only ones that had access to Tony's personal labs, the Avengers's old floors, and the penthouse.

Like the front doors, it opened at his presence, but only because Friday gave him access. As far as Peter was aware, only Tony, Ms Potts, Happy, May, Colonel Rhodes (who Peter had yet to properly meet), and himself had access to this elevator. It had drawn him some odd looks when he first started hanging out with Tony, but now no one gave him a second look.

"Hello, Peter," Friday greeted him once the doors slid shut behind him. Peter closed his eyes and leaned against the cool metal doors, trying to ignore how the walls threatened to crowd around him.

"Hi," Peter managed to force out. His voice was quiet and strained, even to his own ears. It felt like he was being strangled.

"Where would you like to go, Peter? The penthouse, perhaps?" Friday suggested with a tinge of worry in her synthetic Irish-lilted voice. While not as warm or curious as Karen was, Friday was still kind and caring in her own way, even if her voice tended to sound reserved at times. She really only spoke openly to those Tony was on good terms with, and Peter could still remember the cold yet snarky comment she made to Senator Ross when he kept hounding Tony for something about the New Accords.

"Mhm," Peter hummed as a response, thankful that Friday was intelligent enough to not need verbal commands, which meant that he didn’t have to force more words out of his mouth. He tugged at the wet sleeves of his sweatshirt again in an attempt to self-soothe the anxious feeling creeping up inside of him. The hoodie was big on him even though it had belonged to Tony when the man was his age. Peter wondered if Tony had gotten it in a few sizes too large to bring him comfort from being away from home and attending college where everyone was older than him.

The thought made him feel marginally better.

It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach the penthouse and Peter clenched his eyes shut as the lights automatically turned on, hissing out a pained breath. Without having to ask, Friday automatically dimmed the lights for him. Instead of forcing himself to speak, Peter rested his fingertips against his lips before pushing his hand down, signing “Thank you” to Friday since it would’ve been rude not to say anything since she thoughtfully dimmed the lights for him.

“You are welcome, Peter,” Friday said, her voice much quieter than earlier. She had no doubt picked up on the fact that his senses were overwhelmed and he felt gratitude well up in him. “Would you like me to inform Boss of your arrival?”

Peter just shook his head and stumbled in the direction of the living room. He dropped his backpack and shivered slightly before his eyes fell on one of Tony’s hoodies laying on the back of the couch. After a few moments of deliberation (in which he determined whether it was worth the effort of making his heavy limbs move to pull off his wet hoodie), Peter just stumbled over to an armchair and pulled a throw blanket over himself. It smelled like Tony—coffee, motor oil, and a faint whiff of no-doubt expensive cologne—and it had Peter relaxing marginally, the behind his eyes almost seeming to dull at the face of the scent he’d started to associate with home and safety. He cuddled into the warmth of the throw, not able to bring himself to care that he was getting it and the armchair wet, and allowed his eyes to drift shut.

Only to be startled awake after what felt like five minutes. Peter couldn’t help the frustrated whine from leaving his throat, and to his horror, he felt his eyes prick with tears. He was so freaking tired and frustrated and he had a migraine and his senses felt wrung-out and he was so exhausted and every time he tried to sleep, someone woke him up! First, it was the couple from a few doors down, then it was Happy (not that Peter blamed him, the man had only been doing his job), and now it was whoever was talking extremely loudly.

When the voices became louder, Peter huddled into his blanket and sank further into the chair, hoping that it would swallow him up and make the voices stop. He clenched his eyes shut at the pounding in his skull and wished that whoever was entering the penthouse would shut up.

“Why are the lights so dim?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“Fri?” That was Tony. Something in Peter eased at the sound of the man’s voice but his eyes continued to burn and his throat tightened.

“I believe Mr Parker is dealing with a ‘code eleven’, Boss,” Friday informed Tony, her voice as hushed as it had been earlier.

There was a pause and then Tony rounded the corner. “Pete?” Tony asked as he spotted him curled up on the chair. Peter wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t. It was like his voice had been stolen like he was Ariel from The Little Mermaid and he swallowed against the tightness in his throat as he peered up at Tony with stinging eyes.

“Intense day, bud?” Tony asked him, his voice hushed.

Peter’s jaw wobbled as he worked it open and closed, trying to form the words to tell Tony he was fine. Tony didn’t have to worry about him, it was only a little headache, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He wanted to let Tony know that he was fine, that he was just being silly, and that they should go down to the lab like they were supposed to do. They had a project due in a week for his internship—it had been made legit a few months ago—because they were already so behind. Last week, a wrench had slipped out of Tony’s hands and had clattered against the metal table, and to Peter’s enhanced senses, it had sounded like a gunshot. He had frozen, his mind flashing back to Ben, and he’d freaked out. They hadn’t gotten anything done for the rest of the day because Peter had been a baby and cried.

God, he was pathetic. Tony probably hated him, it was his fault that he would get in trouble for not turning in the project. Ms Potts was a real stickler for that since Tony spent so much time messing around with him in the lab. He couldn’t even make his vocal cords work to apologize.

Some of his inner turmoil must have been visible on his face because Tony crouched down and cupped the side of his neck with a warm hand and said, "No, don't apologise. You don't need to say anything, Pete. You're allowed to have bad days. Okay, bud? I'm not mad. If you’re upset about the project, don’t worry, I can move the date back."

Peter curled in on himself at Tony’s words—so understanding and nonjudgemental—and suddenly everything seemed so much more intense. The sounds of the Tower exploded in his eardrums, the whirring of machines, the ticking of clocks, and the buzzing of the lights sounding like crackling thunder. The minimal lights in the room burned his retinas and he clenched his eyes shut, which only made the discomfort of his damp clothes more apparent. His wet jeans grated against his skin and he felt like his sweatshirt, which clung to him, was suffocating him. He threw the throw blanket off him, nearly ripping it in the process, hoping that it would lessen the suffocating feeling.

His exhale shuddered, not really a sob but nearly there, and his hands clamped over his ears to try and muffle the suddenly intense sounds. Tony muttered something that Peter couldn’t decipher as he moved into the chair beside him—the armchair he was in was massive, almost as if it had been made for the Hulk, and there was plenty of space for Tony to sit next to him—and he choked out a sound as Tony’s warm, calloused hand tightened on his neck for a moment before he was being pulled into the man’s side. Peter’s curled into the warmth that was Tony, his fingers grabbing ahold of the threadbare fabric of his old band tee—the man must have been in the lab before he came up to the penthouse, otherwise he’d be dressed in office clothes—and he tried to stop the whine that was building in his throat.

One of Tony’s hands carded through his wet, messy curls before a set of headphones slid over his ears, blocking nearly every little intense sound from Peter’s ears. The relief from his most troublesome sense made it feel as if he blacked out for a moment and it took him a moment to realize that he was trembling. His fingers tightened in Tony’s shirt and his shoulders shuddered in a mixture of relief and the cold feeling in his skin and the anxious, panicky feelings that had been running through his veins like adrenaline for what felt like days.

Tony’s thumb rubbed against the corner of his jaw in a soothing motion and slowly as the panicky feeling drained from him, he loosened the tight hold he had of Tony’s shirt and the furrows between his brows smoothed. His fingers loosened their tight grip on Tony’s threadbare shirt, lying flat against his chest to feel the man’s steady heartbeat.

Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.

Tony’s chest lifted and fell against Peter’s hands as he inhaled and exhaled, seeming almost exaggerated. Instinctively, Peter began to sync his breathing with Tony’s. When his parents had first died, and when Skip happened, May and Ben had taken him to a child therapist. He had been prone to panic attacks and one of the ways his therapist taught him to calm himself was to sync his breathing with someone else’s. And so, feeling the expanding and contracting of Tony’s lungs beneath his hands, Peter’s own unsteady breathing began to level out.

After a few more minutes of feeling Tony’s soothing heartbeat and matching his breathing, Peter reluctantly leaned away from him and slid the headphones off one ear.

“Stai bene?” Tony murmured. Are you okay? Peter translated easily. He swallowed and tried to speak but the words still caught in his throat. Tony’s thumb brushed against the corner of his jaw again, and understanding that Tony didn’t need him to speak, Peter just nodded. He tugged at his sweatshirt sleeves and made a slight face as the damp fabric dragged against his cold and numb skin. Tony noticed. “Your clothes are wet,” he said with a frown, rubbing a hand against his arm in an attempt to warm him up. “Aren’t you cold?”

Peter sniffled slightly and he looked up when a sweatshirt—a red threadbare MIT one—moved into his vision. He started at the sight of who he recognized to be Colonel Rhodes, otherwise known as War Machine—or did he go by Iron Patriot?—or, most importantly, Tony’s best friend. The man wasn’t wearing his War Machine armour and he wasn’t wearing a military uniform, instead, he was in a long-sleeved thermal shirt and a pair of jeans, which were encased by the man’s leg braces, but Peter could easily recognize him from the pictures Tony had around the penthouse.

“Here,” the man said in a gentle voice. Peter blinked at him and realized that the unfamiliar voice he’d heard belonged to him, and now that he thought about it, he was probably who Tony asked to get his soundproof headphones as he was pretty sure they had been in his bedroom. His jaw worked slightly, he wanted to say thanks, but Tony did it for him.

“Thanks, Rhodey,” he said, clapping the man on the shoulder when he stood. Tony then turned to Peter, who slid his soundproof headphones around his neck. “Why don’t you go shower and change, bud? Those wet clothes don’t look comfortable.”

Realizing that Tony was giving him out, at least for a little while to gather himself in private, Peter did as he instructed, taking the sweatshirt from his hands and heading down the hall to the room that was designated as his. His shoulders met his ears as he felt eyes on him and he felt embarrassed for the event Colonel Rhodes just witnessed. Pathetic, his mind whispered. He tried to shove the thought away.

“What’s a ‘code eleven’?” Colonel Rhodes asked when his door closed behind him. Peter could hear the concerned words easily and he stilled, wondering what Tony’s response would be.

“The kid has bad days,” Tony told him in a soft voice. “He’s been stressed recently and he’s got sensitive senses, so a bright light or a loud noise probably triggered a sensory overload. He’s probably been dealing with it all day.” There was a beat of silence, an exasperated sigh, and Peter had a mental image of Tony running a hand down his face. “He’ll be fine after some rest and quiet.”

The tightness in Peter’s throat had diminished when Tony calmed him earlier, but it tightened again and his eyes pricked with tears at how understanding the man was. He’d easily guessed what was wrong, what had most likely set him off, and knew how to calm him down. He swallowed thickly and stopped listening as their conversation turned to other things.

Peter’s shower was longer than it usually was. He stood in the dark—the bright lights and the buzzing sounds of the lightbulbs were still too much for his eyes and ears, even dimmed—and allowed himself to cry. He knew that the tightness and the emotions wouldn’t just go away and that Tony wouldn’t comment on the redness of his eyes when he got out. Colonel Rhodes seemed too polite to comment on it, either.

Instead of pulling on one of his own hoodies or another shirt, Peter tugged on the hoodie Colonel Rhodes had grabbed for him, the one that he’d debated on wearing earlier. It smelled like Tony’s cologne and dryer sheets, and Peter figured that Tony had probably only worn it for a few minutes before taking it off. The comforting smell threatened to make tears prick in his eyes again but he’d all but cried himself out in the shower, so he just pulled the sleeves over his hands.

When he tugged on a pair of sweatpants and some socks, Peter just stood in his bedroom, debating on what he should do. Tony and Colonel Rhodes were talking in the other room, and knowing that Tony had been eager for his friend’s visit, he debated on whether or not he should bother them. But Tony had wanted him to meet Colonel Rhodes, that was part of the reason he was here today, and so he grabbed his soundproof headphones just in case and shuffled out of the room quietly.

They didn’t hear him walking down the hall—Peter had had a lot of practice being stealthy so he didn’t wake up Aunt May after patrol—and so he had a few minutes to watch the two men interact. They were talking about something inconsequential, simply chatting amongst themselves about something. Peter caught Ms Potts’s name, so they might’ve been talking about the company or how Ms Potts was. Tony was smiling that warm, happy smile he got when he was alone and not in public, and the sight of it made the tight feeling in Peter’s chest lighten. Tony was here, he was happy. A dark thought threatened to cross his mind, about how he was a burden and that Tony didn’t want him here, but Peter shoved it away. He was tired of the bad thoughts already. Tired of everything, really, but especially at the depressing thoughts. He was here because Tony wanted him here and that was what mattered.

“Hey, kid.” Tony happened to glance at the hallway and spotted him. He had a slight, reassuring but concerned smile and his eyes scanned Peter, looking as if he was looking for a hidden injury. Peter gave Tony an awkward quirk of his lips and he tugged at his hoodie sleeves nervously when Colonel Rhodes looked at him.

Peter waved slightly and Colonel Rhodes smiled, seeming a little amused. Tony urged him further into the room.

“How about a proper introduction?” Tony said rhetorically. “Peter, this is my best friend Rhodey, otherwise known at War Machine, so try not to fanboy too hard.” Peter rolled his eyes slightly even if he was fanboying on the inside, now that he could think clearly. War Machine~! Tony turned to Rhodey, throwing an arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Rhodey, this is The Kid.”

There were capital letters, Peter could hear it. Colonel Rhodes could, too, if the amused smile on his face was anything to go by.

Colonel Rhodes held his hand out for a handshake, which Peter took. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter, Tony’s told me a lot about you,” he said. Peter glanced at Tony in surprise. He’s told Colonel Rhodes about him? Peter opened his mouth to say something, but the words got caught in his throat. He still couldn’t talk. He didn’t really want to, either.

"Speechless, are we?” Tony teased lightly, though the glint of concern in his eyes told Peter that he understood. He’d had his own quiet days before. “Alright, kiddie, so I was thinking that we could have a movie day today,” Tony said, changing the subject. “Rhodey and I were thinking about the new Harry Potter movie and pizza, you in?”

Peter grinned and made a thumbs up. He’d been wanting to watch Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them since it came out.

Tony grinned back and ruffled his head. “Good, go take a seat. I’ll get the popcorn. You too, Rhodes.”

Peter followed Colonel Rhodes into the living room, curling up in his usual spot on the couch. There was a slightly awkward silence before Colonel Rhodes shifted in his seat, turning to face him.

“You’re good for him, you know,” Colonel Rhodes said. Peter looked at him with furrowed brows and the man elaborated. “Tony. He was a mess after Germany, I was afraid that he’d go back to drinking.” Peter frowned slightly; he knew of Tony’s past, it had come up often enough in the news and in magazines when he was younger and he’d been an avid Tony Stark fan even before the man became Iron Man, but he couldn’t imagine Tony turning to alcohol. The man barely drank around him, maybe a beer or two during movie nights, but there was no expensive, fancy liquor anywhere in the penthouse. Colonel Rhodes caught his expression and he smiled somewhat sadly. “I don’t like the thought, either. I was kind of surprised when he told me that he was taking a break from hard liquor, but then he told me about you and I understood.”

Peter was confused. What did he mean?

“Tony’s never really been one for big responsibilities,” Colonel Rhodes told him. “He’s good at his work, brilliant at it, but it was more of a chore at times than not. The first big thing that he felt responsible for was Iron Man, he felt he had a duty to protect after all of the lives he’d taken.” Peter was slightly conflicted. He could understand the duty to protect, he’d become Spider-Man for that very purpose, but he disagreed that Tony had been the one to kill all those people with his weapons. His name might have been on them, but he hadn’t been the one to fire them, to target all of those people. Colonel Rhodes gave him an understanding smile; he no doubt agreed with Peter’s thoughts.

“Then came Pepper and the Avengers, but you saw how that last one turned out. Helping me with my braces distracted him for a while, but I was afraid of what would happen when I was doing fine on my own. Then he surprised me by starting to talk about you. Eventually, he’d be mentioning you in all of our phone calls; ‘I’ve got this intern, he’s brilliant,’ or ‘The kid’s coming over today, we’re making a robot,’ or ‘Peter came up with a good way to stop your braces from locking up after standing for too long.’” Colonel Rhodes rapped his knuckles against his braces and said, “Thanks for that, by the way, they haven’t locked up since Tony upgraded them.”

Peter’s neck burned at the sincere thanks and he smiled shyly. Colonel Rhodes became serious again. “The whole point of this thing is that you’re good for him, Peter. He’s as sober as he’s ever been, healthy as he’s ever been, has been sleeping through the nights, and he’s not having as many three-day lab benders as he used to have. So thank you, Peter.”

Peter swallowed thickly. “H-He’s helped me, too,” he managed to say around the tightness in his throat. The only thing that belied Colonel Rhodes’s surprise at him talking was a single blink.

“You’ve been through more than the average teenager, haven’t you?” Colonel Rhodes said with keen eyes. Peter nodded and the man smiled slightly. “Well, then I’m glad that you’ve helped each other.”

In the kitchen, the popcorn stopped popping and the microwave beeped. Tony came out seconds later and raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “What were you two talking about?” Tony said suspiciously.

“I was just talking to Peter about my leg braces,” Colonel Rhodes said, scooting over to give Tony room to sit. Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly as if calling his friend’s bluff but sat down, giving them each of their snacks.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Friday, can you play Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?”

As the opening scenes of the movie played, Peter and Colonel Rhodes exchanged a look of understanding. Peter still didn’t feel well, he was still tired and felt wrung-out, but knowing that he’d helped Tony more than he thought made him feel better. He leaned against the man and stole a handful of popcorn, smiling slightly at Tony’s playful indignant squawk.

This one-shot took me a ridiculous amount of time to write! I got the idea like two weeks ago, started writing it like two weeks ago, and ended up only adding a few hundred words each day, sometimes only like thirty or so. I'm happy I got it done, and while I don't particularly like the ending, I like the whole feel of this.

Here are some scenes that I cut out but couldn't bring myself to completely delete:

1.

"Tony cares about you in a way that I knew he was afraid to feel—Has he told you about Howard?” Colonel Rhodes asked. Peter frowned slightly at the mention of Howard. Tony hadn’t explicitly told Peter what his father had been like, only a few mentions here and there, but Peter knew how to use context clues and how to extrapolate data, so he nodded. “Well, he likes to say that he doesn’t like children, that he’s not good with them, but he ‘s afraid of turning out like his father.”

Peter balked at the thought. Tony wasn’t like Howard!

“Exactly,” Colonel Rhodes said with another look of understanding. “Tony’s afraid of turning out like his dad so he tried to stay away from children, but somehow, he got attached to you. You’re making him happy, happier than I thought he’d ever be after everything that happened."

2.

Tony was murmuring soothing words to him, some in English but most in Italian. The man had taken to speaking to him in Italian ever since he heard Peter talking to May in the language. Peter had first learned the language when he’d moved in with May and Ben; it had been a way for them to distract him from the grief and he’d gotten over his selective mutism—this was a common thing for him, the not speaking, not being able to speak—by learning it.

“Starai bene, mimmo,” Tony was murmuring. You’ll be alright, baby.

The whine Peter desperately tried to hold onto was pulled from his throat at the phrase. It was something May always said to him when he was sad or upset, but it felt different coming from Tony. May was kind of obligated to care for him—not that it made her comfort any less comforting or appreciated—but Tony was Tony.

3.

A tear fell down the bridge of his nose. "He said I killed Ben," Peter said in a soft, quiet voice, "and that he died to get away from me. And my parents, too. And that-that May left for her conference or training seminar or whatever it is to get away from me. Everyone I love dies or leaves me, Tony, I don't want you to go, too."

4.

"Oh. Quiet day, baby?" Tony asked softly, the pet name May usually used seeming to slip out.

[nicknellie]

@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,” she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

*

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?�� Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

*

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

*

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

[thatasianstereotype]

Shit. I Got To Deal With This Bitch (Again). 

The third installment of my Adrien x Damian AU. 

First: Fuck. I’m Gay. 

Second: Damn, You’re Looking Fine. 

Well, would you look at that? I’m not dead after all. And this took a while to put together understatement of the fucking century. The reason is because life is a busy little shit the English language will not cooperate. I’m thinking of a scene I want to write and somehow words are lost in translating that into the computer and I end up with a white blank screen in the end. 

But moving on to the fic. At first, I was going to have the whole Gabriel-being-put-in-jail and former-friends-thing put as an aftermath because I really wanted to write Marinette and Adrien meeting the Waynes. But I decided to make the aftermath a full-blown fic from @michaelshadow7779′s ideas and extend the trilogy into a four-part series. 

This part will be focused on what happened to Liar-la, Ms. Bustier’s class trying to gain back their friendship with Marinette and Adrien, and Gabriel getting a special visit from both Robin and Ladybug. 

Again, this is a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken. 

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Lila Rossi is a fucking bitch and everyone —Like everyone this time— knew it. 

Her reputation was now in shambles (she’s now known as that pathological liar or that lying bitch) and Ms. Bustier’s class could only stare at her with hatred and anger —feelings that were once directed at Marinette. 

No one entertained her lies anymore. No one really hung out with her anymore. She sat at the back of the class, staring daggers at both Adrien and Marinette all day (just wishing for an akuma that will never appear).

Unfortunately for her, Lila couldn’t transfer out of class and with only 2 more months of the school year left, she couldn’t transfer out of school so she was stuck dealing with the consequences of her actions: being a fucking social outcast.

Because the class was not at all happy with their supposed friend. Tensions ran high during school. Things took a turn for the worse when Ms. Bustier tried to “fix” things in her own way, mentioning how the only reason Lila lied was because of her “disease” and the girl simply wanted to make friends. 

Needless to say, the class did not appreciate their teacher making them out to be fools all this time. 

It was Alya who ripped her a new one. Césaire definitely has a set of lungs on her. And Adrien would be lying if he didn’t say how utterly satisfying it was to watch.

Karma was a bitch. 

Payback was a bitch. 

And Adrien was fucking living in the aftermath. He wondered if it was mean (probably but he didn’t care) that he wished he had popcorn right now. 

All in all, life returned back to normal. 

Well, kind of. 

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Unfortunately, with the 2 months left in the school year, Ms. Bustier couldn’t exactly be let go because apparently Mr. Damocles didn’t want to deal with the whole paperwork, trying to find a new teacher to replace her, and dealing with the so-called Akuma class. 

That fucker. 

So essentially, he left her at the mercy of her unhappy class, saying she will be let go at the end of the school year. 

Ms. Bustier was unhappy with the arrangement. The class was unhappy with it too. Probably even more so. Since they still got to deal with Rossi’s bitch ass on a daily basis. 

The remaining 2 months of school were spent in a passive-aggressive war. Teacher vs. Students. Where technically the teacher should be respected and they should learn from her but the class was unleashing their collective pettiness. 

And Caline Bustier was fucking done with this job. She wanted to go back in time to when she thought being a teacher was a good idea and shake her past self silly. At this point, she was just counting the days until she can leave for good. 

“Kim. That’s the third time you slept in class this week. If you don’t pay attention, you won’t pass the test next week.” 

“Hold up. I got to ask the certified pathological liar where I put all the fucks I give.” 

“Ok. Don’t forget to ask Marinette if you can actually trust her answer.” 

It was glorious. 

Adrien and Marinette were definitely enjoying the show. 

.

Marinette put down her sketchbook and stared at Damian for a minute. “You’ve been here for a month and a half already. Are you still doing business for your dad?” 

Damian Wayne became a common sight around Françoise Dupont High School and can usually be seen around Adrien and Marinette. After a week of constantly seeing him hang around lunch or in after school activities/clubs, seeing a Wayne soon lost its novelty and people accepted it as the new norm.

“I’m already done with what I need to do at WE’s Paris branch.” He casually plucked flowers from the ground to make a crown for his mon amour who was happily chatting with Luka and Kagami.

“So why are you still here? Don’t you have your own education to finish?”

“My schooling is of no concern. I already earned my diploma a few months ago. It was not at all difficult when I’m already light years ahead of my peers in regards to the dismal educational system my Father forced me to attend."

She raised an unamused eyebrow. “Uh huh. And your family isn’t worried at all about you, a minor, being in a foreign country all by yourself?” 

“They know I’m here. I already informed Father that I will be extending my stay here.”

“And he just accepted it? Just like that?”

"I’m responsible enough to handle myself. I surely do not need Batman watching over me. And you don’t need to worry at all. I’ve been away from home for far longer.”

“You’re completely missing the point.”

“On the contrary, I thought I answered the question perfectly.”

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When they weren’t playing a petty war with Bustier, the class was trying to get back into Marinette and Adrien’s good graces by inviting them to everything and trying to include the pair in their lives again. They wanted to be friends with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child again. 

“Want to do homework together?”

“How about a study session?” 

“We’re having a sleepover at Juleka’s place, Marinette. We can talk about each other’s love lives like the good old times.” 

“Wanna see the new movie that came out, Adrien? I’ll even pay for your favorite snacks.”

“Come on you two. Let’s hang out in the park. We can get Andre’s ice cream too. It’ll be fun.” 

Spoiler alert: It don’t work. At all. 

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“Hey Marinette, Adrien! Why don’t you sit with us today?” Alya eagerly waved at them from where she was sitting with Nino. 

It was a part of a long list of efforts that the class is trying to include the pair in. And it would be nice if it was just to be nice and friendly, you know. Adrien wasn’t going to be outright mean to them even though they fucking deserve it after how they treated the beautiful and kind goddess that was Marinette because Mari asked him to “Play nice, kitty”. 

But the class kept trying to slide the whole Liar-la thing under the rug as if it was nothing. As if they didn’t shit all over their good name for a two-faced bitch. As if they had no part in making them feel like outcasts just weeks before. As if they didn’t called them hateful names or gave them scornful glares. 

And that’s just fucking wrong. Because it wasn’t nothing. And they weren’t good pals anymore. So stop fucking acting like it. 

Adrien was so done with his former friends/classmates. Marinette even more so. 

Because apparently, saying “Yeah, We want nothing to do with you anymore.” is not fucking clear enough that the pair wanted nothing to do with their former friends. 

Like what the actual fuck. 

Luckily, Mari can sense her kitty’s bad mood and quickly laid a hand on his arm and led them to their seats in the middle row since Liar-la took the back and they will be damned if they sit next to her. 

Alya was utterly aghast. She and the others were trying their best to have things be back to where they were before. Doesn’t Marinette and Adrien want things to be like they were before? When everyone was friends and they were making happy memories together? 

Why won’t they accept their olive branch? They’ll be friends again and everything will be okay just like it was before Lila came. 

Let it be known that Alya Césaire was not a patient person. Like at all. 

She was fuming (like you could see the smoke coming out of her ears) as she walked up to Marinette’s desk, just bursting at the seams with frustration. “I don’t get it. Why are you so cosy with Adrien instead of us? Did you forget he supported Lila too? 

“That was—” Marinette spoke up in defense of her everything-that-actually-matters brother. 

But Alya ignored her and bulldozed right over, slamming her hands down on her desk. “Yeah. He changed his mind later on but the point still stands that he was on Lila’s side just like us so why are you willing to be friends with him but not me and Nino? We were best buds.” 

“Adrien was friends with Lila unwillingly, unlike you guys. His douchebag of a father wanted him to play nice with that harlot for some reason and he had to go along with it or risk being pulled out of school.” 

Alya rolled her eyes (She literally rolled her eyes at that) before crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Please. That’s probably a pretty little excuse he gave you be on your good side again. We all know Gabriel will never actually do it.”  

“Are you perhaps referring to the man who rejected the idea of a birthday part for his own son or makes Adrien attend constant photo shoots and a crazy schedule to follow that makes it hard for him to hang out with his friends regularly. That Gabriel?” 

At that, Alya faltered a bit as she uncrossed her arms. 

“Look, Alya. I’m fine with being friendly classmates but I’m not going to be your friend again.” 

And Alya —who wanted things to just be okay again and wanted to go back to being Marinette’s best friend, who was tired of days trying to put so much effort into being Marinette’s best gal again only to be rejected every single time— just let whatever came into her mind to slip out of her mouth. She didn’t watch what she said next and in doing so burnt the last bridge she ever had to Marinette. 

“Maybe Lila was actually right for once when she said the only reason you’re close to Adrien was to use him to get ahead in the fashion industry.” 

Oh shit. 

She really done did it now. 

It was at this point that Marinette’s infinite patience and kindness snapped. Adrien scooted his chair back a bit to get out of the crossfire. He’s a dumbass kitty but he still has self-preservation. 

The grip on her pencil tightened as her eyes narrowed and grew darker, her voice ice cold.  

“You were the one who decided we were done being friends, Césaire.” 

Alya was taken aback, frozen at the biting harshness Marinette directed at her. Whatever comeback she had died in her throat. 

Mari let out a deep breath and her voice was back to neutral. “Look. Maybe someday in the future we can be friends again. But not right now. Please respect my decision.”

And that was the end of that. 

Well kind of. 

Because the ice queen treatment didn’t deter her at all. Alya still persistently tried to get Marinette to be friends with her again until Nino pulled her away and forced her to stop it with her ridiculous antics which aren’t working. 

The rest of their former friends now classmates got the message and left the pair alone. They were friendly and cordial with each other as common courtesy dictate but they had no interaction beyond that. They were nowhere near as close as they once were before Liar-la happened. 

Anyway, school went back to normal. Well as normal as it could be with all the recent changes.

Nothing was as it was before. 

And Marinette and Adrien were fine with that. 

.

Mari was hanging out with Aurore and Mireille for the afternoon so Damian and Adrien had Mari’s room all to themselves. They were currently playing video games. 

And although the Wayne boy was the perfect gentleman who doesn’t let his hormones rule over common courtesy and a proper courtship, Plagg was there to supervise the lovebirds (with a boatload of cheese to keep him company of course). 

He likes to think of himself as laid back and chill who cares deeply about his kittens. And Adrien is a pure innocent little bean. 

Don’t get him wrong. He does like Wayne as a person. The kid’s attitude and personality is a fun riot to witness. But the major plus is how it is beyond obvious Wayne adores and cares greatly about Adrien. He is a good boyfriend to his chaotic gay sunshine baby. 

But after all the shit and drama that went down with his scumbag of a dad, Plagg was just feeling a tad protective of his kitty. 

Just a tad. 

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They have been dating for close to a month now. He wonders if they are going to do a one-month anniversary. Is that excessive? Or was that normal? But Adrien still can’t get over how he landed such a hot and amazing guy as a beau. 

If only he could go back in time to visit his insecure and confused little self and reassure him that they had game all along. 

“Fuck. I lost.” 

Dami smirked. “That makes it 7 to 5 in my favor.” 

“I don’t care if you’re drop dead gorgeous. I’ll beat your pretty face in the next round.” 

Hot-And-Sexy had an amused grin on his face. “I love you too, babe.” 

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Marinete and Damian are finally making a plan to get Hawk Moth to answer for his crimes. Needless to say, they have their differences on how to handle Gabriel Agreste.

“I vote to have Hawk Moth taste my blade.”

“We’re not killing Adrien’s dad no matter how much he deserves it.”

“I can get away with it.”

“So can I. But murder is still illegal.”

Naturally, discussing how to confront Gabriel and coming with a good solid plan that satisfies both teenagers took some time.

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Adrien entered Mari’s room, humming a bit as he carried a tray filled with homemade snacks. He perked up seeing his two favorite people in the world getting along so well.

“Hey guys! What are you up to?”

Damian and Marinette glanced at each other for a split second. They didn’t want their Chaton to worry about Hawk Moth so they didn’t share any specifics.

It was Dami who spoke up. “We are discussing the legalities of assassination.”

Mari facepalmed.

Luckily, Adrien was a pure oblivious child. “That’s nice, babe.”

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With all the strange things he’s seen (namely, the Miraculous and getting powers from tiny little talking animals), Gabriel will like to say he shouldn’t be surprised. 

But he was. 

Luckily, he had enough self-control to not show his surprise in an obvious way, just a raised eyebrow towards the two superheroes standing in the middle of his office. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mademoiselle Ladybug and Monsieur Robin?” Pleasant and neutral. 

Ladybug he can kind of understand her presence. He is a supervillain after all. Wait. Maybe ex-supervillain now. Because he hasn’t been doing villain things for a while now since he misplaced Nooroo’s brooch and couldn’t find it no matter how many boxes of unsold Miraculous replicas he went through. And he went through a lot (that is not an understatement). Amazing how much free time he has when he isn’t stalking on the watch for negative feelings. 

But what was Robin doing here? He wasn’t aware the Gotham sidekick was in Paris in the first place. 

“We are aware of your alter ego, Hawk Moth.” 

He sighed internally. This wasn’t going to end well. But he hasn’t gotten this far by bowing down easily. 

“Just because I am a genius recluse does not mean I have supervillain tendencies.” 

Ladybug was unimpressed as she crossed her arms and stare at him with a deadpan look. “But you do have supervillain tendencies. I have yours and Nathalie’s miraculous who told us all about your plans.” 

Huh, no wonder he couldn’t find them. 

But anyway, the gig was up. Nooroo and Duusu were very emotional blabbermouths. The main reason why he couldn’t let them out of his sight —besides needing them to transform into bad guys of course. 

“Then you know I had a good reason why I became Hawk Moth.” 

“To bring your wife back. Yes, I am aware of your ‘master’ plan.” 

Maybe he can appeal to their sympathy. After all, heroes got to have empathy, right? “It was for Adrien’s sake to have his family back together.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. 

Because next thing he knew he had a razor sharp sword against his neck. He didn’t even see Robin move. 

“Do not speak of his name, you traitor scum.” The Gotham hero growled. “How dare you preach about your son’s happiness when you are the one who have been neglecting him for the past years. Do not say you care for the boy when you never once showed an ounce of love towards him.” 

Why is Robin so protective towards Adrien? Do they know each other well? 

But Gabriel’s questions were immediately banished to the back of his mind. Because right now, he was righteously fearing for his life. Prison sounded better than death. He glanced towards Ladybug. He knew she, at least, wouldn’t let him die. She was the picture perfect hero after all. 

Who was facepalming at the situation. “For the last time, we are not killing Agreste.” 

Unfortunately, Robin did not remove the sword. “And as I keep saying, no one will have to know.” 

“I will. I am literally standing right here as a witness.” 

“You may look away if you are squeamish.”

“...That’s not the problem.” It was time for Ladybug to pull out the big guns. “And if you go through with this, you will make your boyfriend cry and he will no longer want to date you.” 

It took a few seconds but Robin eventually lowered the sword and addressed Gabriel. “Do not presume that because you have no received death today that you do not deserve it. The only reason why your guts have not decorated this room is because I do not wish to make my mon amour shed tears for such a despicable man.” 

Ladybug spoke up next. “We are going to report you to the authorities. Robin and I have enough evidence to put you away for life.” 

To live for another day, Gabriel makes the smart choice of quickly surrendering right then and there. 

.

“Mon amour, I come bearing both good and bad news.” 

Adrien looked at Dami confused. “Okay? What’s the bad news?”

“Your sister have unfortunately stopped my attempt to slay your wicked father.” 

Aww. 

Adrien’s squishy little heart filled with endearing fondness at how much Hot-And-Sexy cared about him. 

“Killing my father isn’t worth going to jail, Dami. I’m sure you can pull off orange but Mari will probably bar me from ever visiting you to teach you a lesson.”  

He considered that for a moment. “That is true. Marinette is a frightening terror.” 

“She’s the greatest thing to happen to me.”Adrien swooned at his goddess before remembering his boyfriend was with him. “You’re a very close second.” 

But Dami was smiling fondly. “I know. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. I will never get in the way between your sibling bond.” 

Aww. 

He could feel his squishy little heart almost explode from all this sugary cuteness from his vain and egotistical Adonis.  

“You’re adorable. So what’s the good news you have for me?” 

“Marinette and I have finally dealt with your father. He will answer for his crimes in front of the Parisian authorities and you will not deal with the repercussions of being related to someone as vile as he.” 

“Does this mean I don’t have to legally change my name to Dupain-Cheng after all?” 

“You’re already one. Not sharing their name does not make you any less of one.” 

Adrien beamed, smiling brighter than any sun. He loved being part of the Dupain-Cheng family and it was nice to be acknowledged as one of them. 

“Of course. Being a Wayne is an honor too.” Damian said casually as if he was simply talking about the weather. Only the twitch of his fingers belied his nervousness. 

Adrien interlocked their fingers together. “You have to buy me a pretty ring first, Mr. Hot-And-Sexy.” 

.

The next week was kind of crazy to say the least. 

Gabriel Agreste was outed as Hawk Moth and Natalie as Mayura to the public. They were promptly put in jail. 

For all their contingency plans, Marinette and Damian had nothing to worry about after all. Adrien being a literal sunshine and Paris’ darling model was what saved him from being a pariah and outcast. The public knew that Adrien was the victim here and not part of Hawk Moth’s plans at all (Be serious. Can you imagine Sunshine child actually having an evil streak in him? No? That’s right. Because it is impossible). People were more sympathetic about Adrien having such a douchebag as a father than the possibility that he was evil like said douchebag. 

After that whole drama mess, Ladybug and Chat Noir announced their retirement to Paris’ dismay. But eh. Without akumas running around, they can leave Paris’ future to the police (since it’s you know, their job to keep the peace and not teenagers who is still winging it as they kick ass). 

Marinette and Adrien just wanted to focus on their future without any other crazy shenanigans.

He already said it before. But it still bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

The only thing Gabriel did right was throw her under the bus when he was caught. He told the police and superheroes how Lila helped him cause akumas with her lies and manipulation. Who knew her destroyed reputation could plummet even further? Understandably, her mother was not at all pleased with her daughter’s antics.

For being a terrorist and an indecent person, Lila was immediately arrested and deported to Italy (and that’s the last they ever heard of her thank everything Mari thinks is holy). 

.

With the whole Hawkmoth thing out of the way and he didn’t have to worry about his shitty dad ever again, Adrien can now focus on his biggest challenge yet. 

School will be over in a few days and summer will be here. Which means: It’s time to finally meet the Waynes. 

Oh fuck. He was going to meet the Batfam. 

And even though Dami assured him that his family will like him, he was still nervous. 

Fuck that. He was absolutely 100% freaking out!

Thank goodness Mari was coming along for the ride. 

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Taglist:

@iglowinggemma28

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 15)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, smut

---------

It was bright and early when Daphne woke up the next morning. She had things to do and no time to waste. The sun was shining through her window, the weather finally starting to get warmer. She put on some leggings with a tank top and then her zip up hoodie over it. She groaned at her hair in the mirror as she dragged her brush through the unruly locks. So many times she considered cutting it so it wasn't so much work, but she knew she'd regret it. Instead, she settled on tossing it up into a high pony and ignoring it. Her trusty backpack was slung around her shoulder and she hopped around as she put her vans on before leaving the apartment. 

She squinted slightly at the light once she got out of the building but it didn't deter her. First stop. Coffee. One large latte to go later, she was on her way to see Brett to find out what news he might have. She tossed her now empty cup in the trash can beside the station before she jogged up the steps and inside. She never checked in with the desk, she was a ghost when she was here. That's how it worked. It wasn't such a secret anymore than she was on Brett's payroll which left her to come and go as she pleased, but officially, she was never there. When she walked into the office area, Brett was sitting at his desk just like the day before. He looked like he hadn't even gone home.

"You look like shit," she mused teasingly, putting down the other coffee she'd gotten for him. His eyes lit up at the sight of it and he gave her a tired smile. 

"You're an angel," he muttered with a long pull from his drink as she sat down. The coffee at the precinct was the worst and never really did its job. 

"Any news yet?" She tried to hide the impatience in her voice but she wasn't sure she succeeded.

"Actually, we do have something. Not quite sure the full details yet though," he murmured. She looked at him expectantly.

"The people we rescued, their fingertips were burnt right off just like the last time. We can't identify most of 'em until they're fully coherent. But they're doing alright. I just can't believe the Chinese were at it again right under our goddamn noses," he fumed, taking another slurp of his coffee.

"I'm not surprised. They probably picked it back up when the heat turned off them again," she sighed. She hoped that once the victims were in a better state they'd be able to get names from them. Some of them might have family that were looking for them.

"Anything from the device?" She asked hopefully

"Yeah, actually. The Chinese requested the meet. They were pretty vague about a lot of shit but they kept saying something about the Italians having a weapon and they wanted to use it. Seemed to be brokering a deal about it. I got no idea what the hell this weapon is, but the Chinese really fucking want it and the Italians already have it. And that makes me nervous as shit," he frowned. 

It made her nervous too. What did the Italians have that the Chinese couldn't get for themselves? And why did they want it? 

"Well that's unsettling," she huffed with a shake of her head.

"Tell me about it. Good news though, that device you planted must be well hidden. It’s still live and active," he flashed her a grin and she smiled herself as she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Do you think it'll be useful?" She inquired.

"No telling yet. I mean mostly it'll be the kitchen staff but it might pick up something. Any other meets we might not be aware of or anyone saying something. Even something small can lead to something big, right?" He smirked, practically quoting her. It made her chuckle. 

"At least that's something. If we can figure out what weapon the Italians have we can figure out how bad this all is," she said softly. It made her nervous and she had a feeling things would get messy soon in Hell's Kitchen. 

"Here's hoping. There ain't much for you to do with the case right now but I'll let you know when we get any more information. It's just a waiting game now," he replied.

"Ah, my favourite," she smirked sarcastically, causing him to snort. She wasn't known for having patience. She liked answers and she liked them immediately. But in this case, playing the long game would be the only option to getting to the bottom of it all.

She bid her goodbyes to him not long after that before making her way back out into the sunshine. Now it was her next pit stop. A short cab ride later and she was at a very fancy luxurious home. It was more like a mansion and was three stories high. It looked like it was right out of a movie with one of those grand entrances and a water feature out front. She was well out of place as dressed down as she was but she knocked on the door anyway. She wasn't even surprised when a butler answered the door.

"Can I help you, miss?" The older man asked softly. His black and white uniform was crisp and clean and it put her own rumpled clothes to shame.

"I'm here to see Mrs Grimes. I'm Daphne Weaver," she replied awkwardly. 

"One moment please," he shut the door and she quirked her brow at how formal all this was. This better pay well. Suddenly the door opened again and he smiled at her.

"This way please. She's been hoping you'd come," he seemed a little friendlier now. Maybe it was because his boss wanted her here so he wasn't all suspicious of what she wanted. Either way, she followed him inside. He led her up the huge ass staircase, the kind that split off at the middle. Everything looked like it cost a million dollars, from the art to all the rare looking things in cabinets. She didn't even feel worthy enough to touch the banister so she kept her hands in her hoodie pocket. 

The carpet was lush and a deep purple colour and she found her eyes wandering the hallway they walked down. How many rooms does someone need? No wonder she had staff, upkeep on this place would be a ball ache. They reached a room far down the left and he knocked on the heavy looking mahogany door.

"Enter," a female voice rang out. It was slightly accented but she couldn't place it. Jeeves opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. She glanced around the room curiously as she walked in. It was a living area with a grand fire. Heavy bookcases lined the walls of the room and were filled with what looked to be antique books that Daphne found herself wanting to look at. There was a giant fur rug in front of the fireplace with velvet looking sofas set in front of it. 

That's where Mrs Grimes was sitting, looking perfectly in place for where she was. She was wearing a long black dress, heels bigger than anything Daphne could ever walk in. Her greying blonde hair was neatly coiffed and pinned up and she was dripping in diamonds. Jesus. 

"Pleasure to meet you Ms Weaver, please sit," she smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the other sofa. Daphne was half worried her vans would dirty the goddamn carpet as she padded over and plonked down. Despite it being completely over the top and not really her taste, she did appreciate however how clean and neat everything was kept. A place like this could easily fall into being cluttered and dusty but it was pristine. She supposed the staff were to thank for that. Mrs Grimes' nails were so long she doubted she could do much cleaning herself. Daphne wasn't sure how she didn't accidentally gauge her own eyes out.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked politely. Jeeves was still hovering near the door no doubt waiting for his command. She was tempted to say yes to see what kind of beverages the other side drank, but she didn't want to stay long.

"Uh… no thank you. I'm fine," she replied with an awkward smile.

"Very well. Hammond, leave us," she dismissed the man at the door. He gave a dramatic nod before he left and shut the door behind him. She idly wondered if he ever wanted to punch his bosses when they commanded him to do things like that. She'd never be able to hold a job like that down.

"I'm glad you came, I was worried you wouldn't," the older woman started, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.

"A job's a job," Daphne snorted lightly, her hands still stuffed in her pockets lest she touch something and ruin it. Mrs Grimes gave her a tense smile, looking like it was difficult to be polite. Maybe she wasn't used to the lower class being in her home. 

"Indeed it is. Will you take the case?" She asked hopefully. 

"Yeah, I'll be able to do it. As I tell all my clients, I don't give out time frames. I never know how long it'll take me to find what I need or what roadblocks might come up. I don't appreciate impatience and it doesn't make me work any faster," she said firmly. Establishing boundaries was the first thing she liked to do. It was important. Especially with the wealthy ones as in her experience they tended to be the impatient ones with their self importance.

"Very well. I accept your terms. And please, whatever you find, do tell me," she implored. Daphne nodded, she always did no matter how shitty the information she'd gained was. Mrs Grimes stood, walking somehow with grace and ease in those monster heels as she walked over to a cupboard near the wall. She opened a drawer and came back with some paper.

"Me and my husband used to be very much in love. And I'm afraid now that I'm older he's decided to find other companions. Call me paranoid but I'm sure you understand when to look into a gut feeling," she mused as she walked back over and sat down. Daphne nodded again. Her gut was rarely wrong and it was telling her that Mrs Grimes was right.

"I want confirmation. I want to know who with and how deep it runs. If it's just physical or something more. I want to prepare myself should he try to divorce me and take what I have. I need proof," she stated seriously. Daphne's eyes subconsciously swept across the room and all the fancy things in it.

"I know what you're thinking. And I was the one with money, not him. He makes a decent amount with his job but I was born with money. This house was passed through my family for generations. Everything in it I bought. But over the years I've had my eyes opened to how greedy my husband can be. I cannot trust if we separate that he won't try to take everything from me," she sounded bitter and Daphne wasn't surprised. They definitely sounded like they had issues and once trust was gone in a relationship, everything else had no foundation to stand on. It wouldn't last. She commended the woman for thinking ahead to make sure she was protected if it came down to it. This kind of bullshit was why relationships were too much work.

"I'll find out what I can. I'll be honest, some of my methods aren't quite… legal. But it gets the job done," Daphne muttered. Things like breaking and entering were definitely illegal and then there was hacking if she ever needed to do it, which in this case might prove useful.

"Good," Mrs Grimes smirked at her. She found herself smirking back at her. The rich typically didn't care too much about how she got the information, just that she got it. Mrs Grimes reached down to her Gucci purse, setting it on her lap and she grabbed something out of it. It was her wallet and Daphne was curious what her offer would be. She hadn't spoken to her about price points yet and when it came to her wealthier clients she made a point of waiting to see what their offer would be first. Usually she’d haggle a little just because she could. They'd have the money and they wanted the information. 

She watched with a keen eye as Mrs Grimes took a chunk of money out and handed it to her. A quick count told her it was $1000 and it took effort for her eyes to not bulge out as she kept a cool calm facade.

"That's the deposit. You'll get the rest when the work is complete. Another $1000. I may give you more depending on just how much you find out," she drawled. So she wouldn't need to haggle then, this price was insane and way more than what the job would entail, but like fuck she would tell her that. She also appreciated the incentive. She liked a challenge, something to work towards. The more she found out then the more she'd get paid. 

"Sounds good to me. I'll get started in the next few days," she replied, keeping her calm demeanour and not acting like she was thinking of what she would spend her money on once she got it all. She carefully stuffed it in her backpack before zipping it back up. She almost jumped when the older woman dinged a bell beside the table and it took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes as the butler walked in.

"Yes, Mrs Grimes?" He enquired politely. 

"Please see Ms Weaver out. Have one of our drivers drop her off to wherever she needs to go," she commanded softly. Part of her wanted to protest but the other wanted to pretend she lived the fancy life, even if just for a moment. 

They both stood and Mrs Grimes took her hand in one of those fancy people hand shakes that were flimsy and light. 

"It was a pleasure, Ms Weaver. I hope to hear from you soon," she smiled. 

"Likewise," she replied, not really knowing what to say. No matter how many well off clients she saw she always felt weird and out of place interacting with them.  She followed Jeeves out the hall and down the large stairs case. He stopped when he got by the front door and picked up a phone that was attached to the wall. She stood there looking around as the man spoke in hushed tones down the receiver before hanging up and then opening the grand front door. 

"Have a lovely day, Ms Weaver," he bowed politely.

"Uh… you too," she murmured as she stepped outside. 

The door shut with a clang behind her and she was suddenly on her own outside. It didn't last long though as a large black car pulled up right at the entryway.

"Ms Weaver?" A man called out after rolling the window down. She nodded and walked over. She was getting sick of being called that name. The man hopped out, jogging over to the back of the car and opening the door for her. This really was fancy service. She gave him an uncomfortable smile, not used to this level of service from anyone. It felt wrong almost. But she slipped inside and settled in the ridiculously comfy car seats. 

"Where to, Miss?" The man asked once he was situated behind the wheel again. 

"Um… Fogwell's gym please," she murmured in response. He punched in something on the phone he was using with the GPS and then he took off. There was a reason she was dressed the way she was after all. She didn't want to think of Matt being a weird asshole the day before. As much as part of her considered not going, she really needed to train and she knew he would be there. She was too stubborn to let Matt's weird PMSing get in the way of her learning to defend herself properly. 

The drive was uncomfortably silent and she clutched her backpack on her knees. She wondered what it was like to live this life full time. She was a bitch but she didn't feel right with commanding people to do shit, even if she was paying them. It just felt off to her. Before long, the car pulled up in front of the gym. She almost felt like she should pay him or something, totally not used to this kind of exchange. As she unbuckled her seat belt, the man got out and ran around to her door. He opened it and she slipped out, swinging her bag over her shoulder. She noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he looked at the rundown gym.

"Are you sure, Miss?" He asked quietly, like he was asking her to blink twice if she needed help. She almost snorted but gave him a polite smile. She guessed his boss wasn't used to being around places like this. She appreciated his sentiments all the same though.

"I'm sure," she said softly. He nodded, still looking unhappy about it but there was nothing he could do. With a nod, he was back in the car and taking off by the time she walked through the door.

She was quiet and heard loud grunting and the hits of a punching bag. As she came into view, she saw Matt beating the holy hell out of the bag. His fists were flying, grunts and pants leaving his lips with the flurry of punches. The graceful savagery was what always intrigued her about him. But then typically he'd open his mouth and ruin it. He hadn't seemed to notice her yet once again which honestly was perturbing since anyone could come in here and sneak up on him like that. She walked over to the bench, setting her backpack down with a thud. The grunts and punches stopped instantly and the only sound that echoed in the gym was Matts heavy breathing.

"Didn't think you'd show," he said carelessly. 

"I wasn't sure either honestly. But I need to train, even if I do have to put up with your bitch ass," she muttered as she started wrapping her hands. He scoffed as he came over, grabbing his water bottle and drinking a large pull from it. He tossed the bottle down again as he made his way to the ring.

"Alright, come on then," he demanded. 

"What? I don't get to warm up first?" She asked skeptically with a raised brow. He snorted coldly and shook his head.

"You wanna know how to defend yourself for real, there is no warming up. When you're out there in a situation like this, you don't get that luxury," he retorted. She rolled her eyes but honestly couldn't argue with sound logic.

Instead, she bit her tongue as she put on the gloves and climbed inside of the ring. Matt cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as they squared off with one another. 

"Let's go," he smirked devilishly. He lunged at her but she moved just in time, twirling around as they practically traded places. They started trading blows, although his were very clearly intended not to hurt her, and she was pleased she got some good jabs in. She didn't slow down or stop this time when he deflected or managed a light shot to her side. She just came back twice as hard. She was proud of herself. Her heart was thumping away from the adrenaline and the exertion of the sparring after a while and she leaned against the ropes as they both caught their breath.

"You did good. You're getting better," he sounded reluctant to give her the praise and she rolled her eyes a little at him.

"I want you to teach me how to get out of the hold from last time," she said firmly. His head turned to her then, his hazel eyes not quite landing directly at her as he narrowed them.

"Daphne, I don't think-" he started, only to be promptly cut off.

"It's fine. I need to learn and I'll get over it. I think I'll be fine this time," she urged. She meant it too. She still had lingering effects of her attack but she was feeling a little better recently. And after her and Matt's partially regrettable night together, she hadn't had a nightmare for the first night since it happened. She knew the sex had helped. Whenever she needed to feel better and clear her head, she would have sex. It's why her sister was so worried it would become a crux for her. Her sex with Matt had done wonders for her stress and anxiety over the whole thing so she felt like now was the perfect time to try to learn it. 

He was quiet for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. He yanked his gloves off and tossed them out of the ring and she followed suit before he changed his mind. Climbing to the floor, she lay on her back and bent her knees just like the last time. As he knelt down between her legs, it was hard not to think of the night they shared together and how similar it was. 

"Ready?" He asked reluctantly. She gave him a firm nod he couldn't see but could sense and he brought his hands to her throat. Once again, he applied very little pressure but she lay perfectly still. Her heart wasn't hammering like crazy, she wasn't seeing Keiran hovering over her. She was fine. Matt stayed still as he did his head tilt thing and it took her a moment to realise he was listening to her heartbeat to check if she was okay or not. It was kind of creepy but she let it go. 

He talked her through the steps of how to get out of that kind of hold. One at a time he'd tell her what to do and correct her if she got it wrong as they did a slow mo version one part at a time to ensure she knew each step. It was more complicated than the last one but after a few step by step tries she thought she had a good idea on what to do. Now it was time to get out of it for real. 

"3, 2 ,1," he counted, preparing her somewhat so she didn't lose her shit like last time. This time he applied some pressure around her throat but it was still practically nothing. She felt his weight bearing down on her and she grabbed his right forearm with her left and then used her right hand to grip his left shoulder in a cross grip. Using her left foot, she pushed off his hip, pivoting her pelvis to the right so he was no longer directly above her. She hooked her right leg high up on his back, right under his armpit and she kept a firm grip on him as her left leg moved to wrap around his shoulder too, locking it onto her other. She grabbed his wrist, the one that was in her grip that was now at her mercy on her chest. She knew if she thrust her pelvis upwards sharply she would break his arm at his elbow. 

It had happened so fast but she caught herself before completing the maneuver and felt pleased with herself. She let go of his arm and rolled them over so he was now under her. They were both panting and she laughed lightly, feeling good she actually did it. She was a little sweaty and she looked down at where he lay under her. His brow had a slight sheen to his and his hair was doing that thing where it went every which way. His eyes were wandering as he caught his breath with a grin. She wasn't the only one enjoying their session it seemed. 

She felt his hands glide up her thighs that were around him and she'd be a liar if she said it didn't make her tingle. His unseeing eyes were burning into her, pupils blown wide. She went to move off him but he held her in place, only now she was hovering right in front of his face. One of his hands rested on the base of her neck and he pulled her down a little. She stayed still though and resisted as her lips were a breath away from his.

"We're not on the same page, remember?" She teased him, enjoying seeing him this worked up. She squeaked when her back hit the mat when he rolled them over quickly. She hadn't expected it. 

"I'm over it," he smirked devilishly at her before his lips collided with hers. 

She should have really stopped to think about it. To assess the validity of his words. But sex with Matt was something else and it made her feel amazing. All her stress and worries melted away last time. And although she knew going down that rabbit hole wasn't good with her past of sometimes becoming dependant on sex for her own mental well being, she couldn't really help herself. She blamed Matt for being insufferable and ridiculously attractive. The kiss was rough and demanding and she gave into him, moaning as he pushed himself against her through the thin fabric of their pants. He knelt up, tugging at his vest and lifting it over his head. Something dawned on her then.

"We're gonna do this here? What if someone walks in?" She snorted amused. She wasn’t one to shy away from sex in weird places but she didn't want some old dude walking in and getting a free show. He tossed his vest on the floor as he chuckled, jumping to his feet and climbing out the ring. She sat up, watching him curiously as he went and locked the door from the inside. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he prowled back to her though. The predatory grace he held, the way his sculpted body moved. In her needy and horny haze she found herself impatient for him to return and she felt like he was taking his time to tease her if his smirk was anything to go by. She pulled her shirt off and then her bra, tossing them in a heap beside them as Matt toed off his shoes. 

He knelt back down then, his hands curling her ankles and yanking them lightly. Her back hit the mat with a light thud and she looked up at him shocked before laughing. With a wicked grin, he pulled her leggings and panties off together but painfully slow and her desire was increasing with every second he made her wait for it. She wouldn't beg though. She sat back up, tugging at his shorts and he bent down, kissing her roughly as she yanked them down with his boxers. She fisted him tightly and he moaned into her mouth, causing her to smirk into the kiss. Letting go, she pulled the shorts and boxers all the way off him before pushing him onto his back. 

It was his turn to look mildly shocked and she climbed on top of him, her slick heat trapping his cock against his belly. His eyes were darting around her face and she leant forward, catching his lower lip with her teeth. He let out a long groan, arching up at her as she tugged it before letting it go with a pop. She sat up, pushing up on her knees before she gripped him and lined herself up. Without a word she sank down onto him and the pair moaned in relief. It was instant for her, that feeling of him filling her up like that. Knowing her release would come soon. She rested her hands on his firm chest for leverage as she started moving her hips. His hands felt like they were all over her body at once. Not soft or sweet, but firm and demanding and he took in every detail of her body. 

The gym was filled with moans and gasps as she rode him hard, her anger at his behaviour and the thrill of fighting with him fuelling her pleasure. She almost found it ironic that they were fucking in a boxing ring with how often they fought. He pulled her down roughly, lips smashing against hers as he ravaged her mouth. She felt that euphoric feeling getting closer, her whole body tingling in anticipation. She got faster and harder, chasing the release she was after like her life depended on it. 

"Don't stop," Matt groaned against her lips, one hand gripping the back of her neck while the other was on her ass, fingers digging into her flesh. She had no plan on stopping though. Not when she was this close. She kept up the pace and then she moaned loudly, her body tensing lightly as she clamped down around him. 

He let out the hottest fucking noise she’d ever heard a human make and it only heightened her own pleasure as she rode the waves of her orgasm. He was clinging onto her tightly, rutting up into her as he panted and then groaned, spilling himself inside of her. He relaxed instantly. Hands falling to his sides. She sat there on top of him as she tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair had started falling out of her ponytail. She was thoroughly fucked and in the best way. That beautiful feeling was coursing through her veins as she let the hormones and endorphins flow though her. 

She climbed off him carefully before standing up and stretching.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," she hummed sounding blissful as she scooped up her clothes. She walked completely naked to the showers and got herself cleaned up and presentable. She didn't regret it, it was amazing and she felt good now. And from the sounds he made, he enjoyed himself too. She just hoped he meant it when he said they were on the same page. 

--------------

Matt stood in his own shower in the men’s changing rooms as he let the cold water pelt him. His brain was a fried mess and he leaned against the cool tiles as he tried to just think clearly. He wasn't sure why he'd done it again, not after last time. He couldn’t really say what had bothered him about the fact she left last time. He'd gotten out of the shower and went to his room and she was just gone. No words, no note, nothing. He knew it had been purely physical, they could barely tolerate each other. He wasn't stupid enough to think too deeply into it. Yet it left him feeling strangely hollow when she’d just left him like that.

And then when he had turned up to work, Foggy had been acting weird. After some pressure he'd told Matt about his conversation with Daphne. Matt was pretty sure he hadn't gotten the whole story from him but the gist of her saying it was just sex was clear. And he'd told Foggy she was right. It was a one time thing because of all their pent up anger and the adrenaline from the night they'd had. He told his best friend to stop thinking about it. Yet he hadn't been able to do the same. He'd ended up texting her using Foggy's phone to see if she would be home and then he went to see her. No rhyme or reason or idea why he was going there. All he knew was that it bothered him.

It wasn't like he’d never had casual sex before, although he couldn't say it happened much the last few years. And his inability to understand why he was feeling the way he was led to them fighting again. Because she was right. But he hadn't been able to let it go. So when he left, he told himself it wouldn't happen again. She was trouble and being around her wore him out. It wasn't worth it. So how did he end up here again? Oh that's right, apparently he'd turned into a horny teenager again. A bit of sparring, feeling her body against his and sensing how happy she was in the ring really fucked his hormones over. And now here he was again. Only this time it was his own fault. She’d actually turned him down and he'd been the one to push. He couldn't say he regretted it either. It was the best damn sex he’d ever had and it left him feeling more chilled out than he felt in a long time. He'd keep his mouth shut this time and not act like a teenage girl about it. He dug himself into this hole and now he had to climb his own way out. 

-----------------------

Daphne towel dried her hair as much as she could and it left it wavy. She scooped it up in a messy bun on top of her head, a few stands framing her face. The euphoric feeling she got after sex was easing but she still felt calm and settled. It was nice, she didn't get to experience it that much anymore. She really didn't want to have to face Matt, not knowing if he'd throw a tantrum like last time. She didn't want him to read into it again or act all weird about it. It really killed the vibe and ruined her good mood. She'd tried to stop it from happening, not wanting to deal with that again, but she hadn't been able to help herself when he'd wanted her so clearly. There was something addictive about it. But now she felt dread settle into her bones as she thought about how he would react. 

She took her sweet time getting dried and dressed simply to buy herself some time. But eventually she was done and she had to leave the changing room. As she walked out into the main part of the gym, Matt was sitting on the bench tying his laces. 

"Ready?" He asked softly. No awkward questions, no anger in his voice. Maybe he was on the same page now after all. She felt relief sweep through her, allowing her to enjoy the calmness that she'd been left with after their time together. 

"Yeah," she replied, grabbing her backpack and putting it over her shoulder. 

Matt grabbed his cane where it was leaning against the wall. He was now wearing a hoodie too and he grabbed his glasses out of the pocket as he slid them onto his face. She wondered if he ever got sick of having to act blind. He was blind but not like the average blind person. He didn't really need the stick and she'd seen him 'bumping' into things like he hadn't known they were there before. When they stepped out into the sunshine, she winced and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Jesus christ! I think I've joined the blind club," she grumbled, rubbing her poor eyes. The sun just burnt the shit out of her retinas. He let out a surprised laugh, the door shutting behind them.

"Here," he grinned. She cracked a wary eye open, seeing him holding out his glasses to her, but she didn't take them.

"It's not like I need them,” he teased. It helped. She felt a little better. She slid them onto her face and her eyeballs thanked her immediately. They started walking down the street together and she glanced into a window as they walked by, looking at her reflection. She snorted at herself. Her hair, despite being recently washed and put up, was a wavy mess. Her cheeks were still rosy pink and the glasses looked weird on her face.

"They suit you," he mused playfully. She shoved him lightly, causing him to laugh when an older woman gasped at her actions.

"Assaulting a blind man in public? It's like you want to get arrested," he smirked.

"Yeah well, Foggy will be my lawyer so I'll be good," she quipped back with a grin. Now they were on the same page they seemed to be amicable after venting their frustration on each other. 

"You really think my best friend would take your side over mine?" He asked, faking being hurt as he held his hand over his heart. She stopped walking and he did the same as she looked at him.

"I hate to say it but I think he prefers me now. Not that I can blame him. You are a bit of an asshole," she grinned mischievously. He gaped at her before his hand darted out and went to grab the glasses. She squeaked, holding them in place as he tried to steal them from her face.

"You don't deserve my glasses," he snorted.

"Come on! I need my eyes, I'm not like you!" She whined pitifully. 

"And what's this?! My two favourite people, getting along nicely? Is the world ending?" A dramatic voice sounded from next to them. Both she and Matt stilled completely in a comical way before they took a step away from each other. Both of them looked caught out as they looked at a very smug Foggy.

"This is great! Better than great! I love this," he beamed like a kid on Christmas. Daphne groaned and glared at him from the glasses still perched on her face.

"Foggy, I swear! You want us to not kill each other when we're in the same room? Don't make a big deal about it when it happens," she huffed. 

"It is a big deal. You're both laughing and smiling together. This is huge. It's like a rare solar event or something," he defended. 

She resisted the urge to throttle him as Matt rubbed his temples. 

"Foggy," Matt warned lightly.

"Okay! I get it, I'm making it weird. This whole thing is new to you both and I'm just making it awkward," he soothed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"There is no 'thing'. We can't just actually have a moment where we get on with each other before you start trying to marry us off again?" She whined. 

"Marry us off? What?" Matt asked quickly, his head whipping to his friend. She snorted as Foggy's cheeks went a little pink and he shot her a glare 

"Oh, he didn't tell you he's the captain of ship Maphne?" She laughed loudly. She didn't care if Matt knew. It was ridiculous to her and she was getting payback on Foggy for being a little shit. 

"Maphne? Do I even wanna know?" Matt asked exasperated. Foggy shot her another look before standing up straighter.

"You know what, Daph, mock me all you want but this is the hill I'm choosing to die on," he pointed at her. Matt still stood there unsure of what they were even talking about. She opened her mouth for another retort that would no doubt embarrass Foggy further and also maybe make Matt uncomfortable which was a bonus, but Foggy beat her to it. 

"Anyway! I'm glad I caught you two, I have great news!" He beamed excitedly. She quirked her brows perplexed as he led them to a table outside of the cafe nearby. The three of them sat around it, Matt and Daphne watching their friend expectantly. 

"I finally asked Karen on a date!" He practically squealed. A splitting grin graced Daphne's face, unable not to be happy for him. During their many talks, he'd spoken about his feelings for the blonde and Daphne had always told him to go for it. 

"Aw, Foggy! You're growing up, I'm so proud!" She cooed, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He was so happy he just let her.

"That's awesome, man. I'm happy for you," Matt smiled sincerely.

"I know, it's great right? I just finally bit the bullet. I just decided I need to stop being such a baby about it," he explained. He had a weird look on his face though, the same one that usually told her something going on.

"What is it?" Both she and Matt asked at the same time, him clearly picking up on Foggy's weirdness in his own way.

Foggy raised a brow at them both being in sync and she made a point to not even look at Matt so Foggy wouldn't go off on his Maphne tirade again.

"Well… I just… I panicked, okay? I set it all up and she knew I wanted to ask her something. But then I'm like, what if she says no? I mean it's just gonna be me and Karen. Alone. On a date," he uttered looking like a deer in the headlights.

"That's kinda the point, Foggy," Matt teased.

"I know it is. And I couldn't back out because she was just watching me, waiting for what I wanted to ask. I honestly felt like I was about to have a heart attack and I may have asked her on a date but told her it was a double date with you guys," he blurted, barely taking a breath as he did. 

Daphne blinked at him for a moment as her brain tried to digest his words.

"You did what?" Matt asked incredulously. Foggy made a pitiful noise and she took Matt’s glasses off and set them in the middle of the table, giving Foggy a look.

"A double date? Implying that me and Matt are actually also going to be on a date. Do you see the flaw in that plan?" She asked slowly, like she was talking to a child about why playing with matches was bad. 

"I know! Like I said, I panicked and that's just the first thing that came out of my mouth!" Foggy defended with a sigh.

"And Karen actually bought that?" Matt scoffed, gesturing with his hand to him and then Daphne.

"You're kidding right? She's all aboard this ship, she was actually excited about it," Foggy smirked. She kicked him under the table and he groaned. Matt's jaw ticked as he glared in his best friend's direction. 

"This isn't a joke, Fogg. All the shit you give me for keeping my secret from her and you're just lying right to her face about this?" Matt frowned. 

"That's completely different. Your secret is dangerous. This one isn't. For all she knows it's your first date too and after that it just didn't work out. Besides, it's not like you're not getting it on with each other, would it really be that hard to just pretend to be on one date?" He pleaded, looking from her to Matt.

"Yes," they both answered again.

"Please? I really need this. If I tell her you're not going she might cancel too. You two are like a buffer, help set the scene and put her at ease. I really like her, guys. I don't want to mess things up," he begged. 

"Foggy-" Matt started sternly, only to be cut off by Daphne. 

"Fine. But you're paying for dinner," she relented. 

Foggy smiled the widest grin she'd ever seen on a human and Matt turned to glare at her.

"You've got to be kidding me," he scoffed incredulously.

"What? Didn't you hear him? He's our friend, Matt. Let's just do this for him. Besides, free dinner," she shrugged. Matt looked pissed and honestly it was a reward she hadn't expected. She'd almost forgotten how nice it felt to push his buttons. 

"This is ridiculous. You really think she's not gonna notice we can't stand each other once she's sat at a table with us for a while?" Matt glowered. He had a point but they could just try to be civil for Foggy's sake.

"You know what, Matt, I really hate to play this card but you left me no choice. You lied to me for the longest time and now I have to keep your secret. I already have to start a potential relationship with lies for you. Can't you just do this one thing for me? I never ask you for anything," Foggy muttered with a frown. 

A sly grin spread on her face at how underhand it was of Foggy. She almost felt like a proud parent as she watched a million emotions pass over Matt's face before defeat was all that was left.

"Fine. But don't say I didn't want you when this all blows up in your face. And you're paying for my dinner too," he huffed. Foggy looked more than pleased with himself. 

"Thank you! You guys are awesome. I'll even pay for your drinks if you actually try and act like you like each other and not make it awkward," he shot them both a toothy grin. 

"Hey, let me drink as much as I want and I'll make it really look like we're on a date," she smirked devilishly, a wiggle of her eyebrows and Foggy burst out laughing.

"Jesus christ," Matt muttered quietly with a shake of his head. 

"Deal," Foggy nodded firmly, "tonight at 8. It's the Mexican place near the firm," he instructed before he stood.

"Alright. I'm heading out, you coming with, Matt?" He asked, shooting his annoyed friend a look.

"Yeah. You go on, I'll catch up in a sec," he bit out. Foggy gave her a look and a smirk before he started walking away. 

"Really?" Matt glared at her, swiping his glasses from the table and shoving them onto his face. 

"What? Free food and as much booze as we want? Plus doing your best friend a solid? I know you're an asshole, Matt, but I thought you weren't that much of an asshole," she quipped dryly. He clamped his mouth shut, jaw tense as he pursed his lips.

"Fine," he stood up abruptly, gripping his cane before holding it in front of him. 

"You're doing this for Foggy. Don't fuck it up for him just because you've got a stick up your ass," she huffed as she stood up too. 

He shot her what she presumed was a dirty look behind his glasses before he started walking away, his cane swinging in front of him. His irritation about the situation only made her want to do it more. It was his own fault really for acting like such a bitch about the whole thing. He was asking for her to make it worse for him. She started walking home as a plan formed in her mind. She'd get nice food and decent booze and she'd get to piss Matt off in a setting he had to behave in. She was actually looking forward to it. 

As soon as she got home, she called their firm, knowing Karen would be the one to answer.

"Nelson and Murdock, Karen speaking," came the voice down the phone. Daphne trapped the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she tugged off her hoodie and tossed it in the laundry basket.

"Hey Karen, it's Daphne," she said casually. 

"Oh! Hi!" She sounded genuinely happy to speak to her and she wondered why she'd never bothered to speak to Karen more since she was so close to Foggy and Matt.

"I know this is weird, we haven't really spoken much. But I wanted to ask a favour since we're going on a double date," she said carefully, flopping onto her sofa.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Don't tell the guys, it's kind of weird for me. It's just… this is mine and Matt's first date too and it's been so long. I was wondering if you'd help me get ready for the date? I wanna look really good. I mean I know he can't really see, but he just somehow knows these things, right?" She grinned, cringing at how hard she was going at this. She felt a tiny bit bad at lying to her but she ignored it. 

"Of course! I'd… I'd really love that. I'm nervous too and it'd be good to just have some girl time," Karen said softly. 

"Thank you, I really appreciate this. We could go to the restaurant together when we're done," Daphne smiled pleased with herself. After exchanging cell numbers and goodbyes, Daphne sat back on the couch with a smirk. She wanted to turn heads. Not only just to irritate Matt, using her knowledge of him finding her physically attractive against him, but it had been a while since she went out. Usually she did so with a goal in mind, to have sex. And she would turn heads, a lot of them. Tonight was different but it didn't mean her ego wouldn't enjoy being looked at. It certainly would be interesting. 

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet- chapter 27: lies

All chapters

Chapter 26

"I just don't understand why you would say yes to Draco but no to a sweet guy like Harry?" Hermione said obnoxiously, I really didn't know how to explain it either. I ran into her on the way to dinner, and apparently the news had already traveled throughout the school. "I-i don't know I just, I needed a way to get over Snape and I guess I can see myself being with Draco more than I can see myself being with Harry." I whispered to her. "Hmm well if that's what you tell yourself to sleep at night" I rolled my eyes and just smiled sarcastically. "Well I guess that means you will be needing a dress. We can go dress shopping this weekend." She said as we walked into the great hall. "Sounds good, I'll catch you later." I said waving and walking to sit with Draco.

 "Hey girlfriend." Draco said wiggling his eyebrows, I just rolled my eyes and laughed as I sat down next to him. "So I guess this means I get to call you that now, and I can do boyfriend stuff with you." he continued, smirking and handing me a roll. I smiled and took it from him, "I guess, depends on what you mean by "boyfriend stuff" I said using air quotes. "Oh y'know, holding your hand, carrying your books, and buying you things." he said smiling, he didn't make being his girlfriend sound too bad actually, and if i'm lucky, I may actually fall for this blondie. "Yeah I guess we can do that." I said , smiling at him looking over to Crabbe and Goyle who were just staring at us. "Buzz off you two" Draco said when he noticed their gaze. I laughed and looked at Draco. You know he was kinda cute if you looked past the spoiledness. He had nice hair, and nice eyes. "Like what you see?" he said, smirking, I just shoved him and he grabbed my hand, interlocking it with his. I looked down at our two hands and took a mental note, I was gonna need to get used to this feeling. I looked up at the teachers table and looked at the lonely professor, I sighed, my feelings for him were still present, and I was just wondering how long it was gonna take for them to go away. I didn't tear my gaze away as I thought in silence, my mood saddening, after everything that had happened I had started to gain hope, but It was just false hope, that I had made up in my head. And I needed to move on from these foolish antics. Snape looked up and I saw him notice Draco and Is hands, he just met his eyes with mine and then looked away. I looked down and went back to the conversation with Draco.

After dinner Draco and I walked back hand in hand to the Slytherin common room. I felt it was a little soon to be parading our new relationship around, but he insisted. We entered the room and sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace. "So are you excited?" he said looking at me, putting his arm around my shoulder. "For what?" he just laughed, "For the Yule ball silly." I just smiled and looked into the fire, "yeah I am" I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, I felt his head rest on mine and I thought about how this was gonna turn out. I liked draco and he was sweet and he liked me a lot, so this was just all gonna work out great in the end. "I'm gonna go visit Hermione real quick, i'll see you later." I said getting up, he just smiled and nodded waving as I left the room into the halls. I turned out of the room and stood for a moment debating what I should really do. I walked backwards for a movement running into someone. "Oops sorry." I said, turning to apologize to the stranger. "Oh." I said realizing it was Snape. He just looked down at me and kept walking. I watched him walk down the hall and frowned at the strange interaction, that was weird? He didn't even say anything to me. I assumed he was going to head to the staff meeting he said  he had on wednesdays. I continued down the hall and strolled around the castle for a bit, I then ran into none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. "Y/n, hello how are you this evening?" he said smiling at me. I just looked up at his creepy smile, "I'm good." I said getting ready to continue down the hall, "i see you are dating Draco Malfoy now." he stated, I turned to look at him. "Um yeah I am." I said awkwardly. "That's a bit of a surprise I must say." he said looking me up and down and not dropping his "kind" smile. "And why is that?" I said furrowing my brows. "Well I just don't know if a boy like that is capable of...satisfying a girl of your...elegance." he said pausing for a moment I just looked at him and squinted my eyes, "And what makes you think that he hasn't already satisfied my needs?" I said crossing my arms. He dropped his smile at this and stared me down, "If you are imply-" I cut him off, "Don't you have a staff meeting to get to?" he looked at me confused for a moment. "Staff meeting?" he said perking up. "Yes Professor Snape said staff meetings were on wednesdays." I said arms still crossed. He laughed and sighed down at me, "Well he must have lied, because staff meetings are on the last monday of each month." I relaxed my arms and thought about what he was saying, "I've got to go." I said speeding off down the hall to Snape's room. Why would he lie to me? Did he really not want to see me the extra day? I walked to his class and didn't bother knocking again, reaching for the door knob, but it was locked to my surprise. I wiggled it once more and then knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again, "helloooo?", no answer. I pulled my wand out raising it to the door, "Alohomora" It unlocked and I walked in. it was empty, and there was no evidence of him having been here the last thirty minutes. I walked over to the familiar door he had taken me through that led to his private quarters and knocked on it, "hello? Severus?" silence. I sighed and rolled my eyes walking out of his class, locking the door behind me.

Where did he go that he had to lie to me about it? I'm sure he kept many secrets from me, but this time he just straight up lied to my face. I strided over to Dumbledore's office to get some answers, I was tired of being left in the dark. It took me a bit of energy but I finally approached that familiar gargoyle. I was able to get here faster, graciously avoiding Lockhart.  It took a second but it opened up and I made my way up the stairs into his office. "Hello Y/n, how's your day been?" he beamed looking at me from his desk chair. I smiled, setting my bag down and sitting in the chair. "I had some questions I need answered." I said looking at the ceiling. "And what may they be?" he said sitting back in his chair. "Is it true staff meetings are the last monday of each month?" I asked, still avoiding eye contact. "Yes, Y/n what's this about?" he said smiling at me. I sat up straight and faced him, hands clasped on the desk, "Where does Professor Snape go on wednesdays?" I enquired, not looking away from his wise blue eyes, that were hidden behind his half-moon spectacles. "I do not know." He said mirroring my body language, and staring intently in my eyes. I relaxed my shoulders. I may not be a legilimens but after the lesson with Snape I had gotten pretty good at it. It wasn't like Albus was in my head, it was more like his eyes were trying to pull the words to the surface. But I kept my mouth shut. I kept my mind blank blocking him out if he was doing something.

And then I did something really dumb on accident. We were staring at each other and I could see that he knew something, and he was hiding it from me, and I was so focused, and without intending to, I tried to enter his mind, to see if he did know something. Now like I said I'm no legilimens, so there's no doubt he didn't know I was trying to get through his barrier. When I was able to stop myself and snap out of it, I had a slight look of defeat, and Dumbledore just smiled a bit and titled his head. "Ok thanks, I gotta go, um study." I said quickly grabbing my bag and rushing out of his room as fast as I could. I ran out the stairs and went down the hall. Running a hand through my hair and exhaling. That was scary, who knows what he knows,and how he feels about what I just tried to do. I sped down the halls and went straight to the Slytherin common room. I walked in and there sat Draco on the couch, he smiled at me and motioned for me to come sit, "Come on get comfy" he said smirking, I smiled "Can't I need to do one last thing." I said darting to my dormitory. I threw my bag on my bed and sat down, exhalieing once more I went into the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water, and brushed my hair. I took my robes off, getting sweaty. I used a quick spell to freshen up and tucked my wand in my skirt waistline, fixing my tie around my white button up shirt. I walked out waving and leaving quickly. I headed down to Snape's classroom, avoiding any people, there weren't a lot, and taking deep breaths. I walked up to his door looking around for any people, I grabbed the doorknob and it was unlocked this time, slowly opening the door I peaked my head in, I didn't see him so I entered closing it behind me, I locked it just in case. I looked around and outside the windows, not seeing anything. I walked over to his storage closet and looked at the many shelves of potions and ingredients. I didn't see him, so I looked at all the potions he had, there on the middle shelf to my left sat Amortentia. I looked outside and didn't see him, so I reached for the vial holding it safely in my hands. I took the cork top off and looked at it, I held it up to my nose and breathed in its odor. I closed my eyes taking it in, it was still the same and I sighed. "Can I help you Ms. L/n" I jumped at the sound of the familiar man's voice and quickly put the cap back on and put it back in its place. "This again?" I said straightening back up, still facing away from the prudent man. "How many times do we have to go over this Severus, please call me Y/n." I said finally turning to face the man, hands on my hips flashing him a smile. "What are you doing here?" he said in a somber and tired tone, I dropped my arms, and looked at his face, he looked like just got back from a funeral or had seen a ghost. "Are you ok? You look a bit pale." I said smiling and patting his arm as I walked past him out of the closet. "Ms. L/n I think it best you leave." He said in a more stern tone watching me as I walked over to his desk and looked at the books in the shelf behind it. "Where did you go? I came to find you before the staff meeting only to find out from Gilderoy, there was no staff meeting." I said pulling a brown leather book from the shelf and flipping it open.

I stood back to him as I flipped through the book, it looked mostly handwritten and very old. I looked through it staring at all the handwriting so elegant and crisp. There were all kinds of spells and potions. I got lost in its beauty and didn't hear him approach me. He suddenly snatched the book from my hands and I jumped and turned to look at him, he held the book and quickly put it on the shelf. "Where I spend my time is none of your concern Ms. L/n." he hissed in his deep velvety tone. I'm gonna be honest the first thing I felt was blood rushing to my face at how hot that was. He looked into my eyes with his dark black ones and I just stood up a bit more straight. I relaxed my mind and let down its barrier. If he wanted to try it, read my mind, he can, that's what I wanted him to do, I needed him to be vulnerable for just one second. I continued staring into his eyes, and he slightly raised his brow. I felt him calmly enter my mind and flipping through my thoughts to see what I wanted to know. I took this moment to clear my mind and I looked into his gaze. Taking a deep breath I focused my energy and closed my eyes for one moment.I opened them and entered his mind sharply. I wouldn't have much time so I just went to the most recent memory. I couldn't see much before he left my mind and forced me out. All I saw was a man, but not a random old guy. I kind of looked like my father? But how would that be possible? I gasped lightly when I snapped out of it, if looks could kill, I would be one hundred times dead from the look Severus was  giving me. I looked up at him mouth slightly agape. "I-Im so sorry Sir-" I stuttered. "Get out before I take away points and give you detention." He said coldly, not taking his eyes off me. "Wait no, who was that guy? Where were you?" I asked as I stood my ground. "None of your business you insolent brat, get to your dormitory at once!" he sneered, backing me out from behind his desk. "Was that my dad?" I said calmly holding my hand up and pushing his chest lightly to stop his movements. He just looked at me and to my hand and I could see his eyes fumble for a moment and flash with worry and then back to anger. "I don't know what youre going on about you foolish child, now go." he ordered and I just stared at him once more, before backing up and heading out of his class. I walked fast down the hallway and swallowed the lump in my throat and headed to the common room. I was thinking about how I was able to get into his mind on the first try It's like all of the sudden I was really good and blocking them out and then getting in his head even for the split second. Which reminds me, what was up with him? He was so cold and normal Severus to me. I shook the sad thoughts away. I walked in and saw Draco reading a book and took it from his hand and grabbing his arm. "Hey Y/n whats up? Where are we going?" He said as I took him out the door and down the halls, "To the astronomy tower." I said smiling at him and taking his hand.

Tags; @lovelyhoneylemon​

[stevesharrlngtons]

34 with roman 🥺

(remember when i talked about a nanny!au? well... here it is. somewhere in an alternate universe...) 

the feel of fingers brushing together by accident

sorry if roman is a bit ooc

You sat at the breakfast bar with Nadia, your arm outstretched creimously on the countertop as you watched her fumble through arithmetic. A bowl of Hershey Kisses sat between you both, crinkled balls of their foil scattered about. Your temple rested against the crook of your elbow as you fussed with the tin, waiting for Nadia to need any assistance. 

“You could be cleaning,” Peter quipped from the sink. 

“You’re the only old maid around here. I have better things to do,” you countered back, as you flattened a wrapper and began to peel it apart. 

“Scrolling through Neiman’s and sleeping ‘til noon?” 

“Precisely,” you looked up to grin at him in time to see him roll his eyes. 

Nadia gave a little giggle at the encounter and you threw her a playful wink. 

Most late afternoons into early evenings looked just like this one. You with Nadia at the counter as she did school work, and Peter wandering on the fringe of your conversations as he tidied and cooked dinner. It had felt strange at first, how quickly you had created such an effortless routine that rarely held hiccups or upsets with the two, who were supposedly notoriously closed off and unaccepting. But, it had seemed to be fate, that you had been the missing gear to their unit that was needed to have everything run smoothly. You were extraordinarily lucky to have earned both their favors, as well as Nadia’s father and Peter’s stringent boss’. 

You rolled a discarded foil ball between your fingers before promptly flicking it at Peter’s head. Nadia burst into giggles once more and your heart swelled at the noise. Peter gripped the sink and turned to look at you. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping her with her homework? Or are the concepts a little too lofty for you?” he snarked. 

“It’s third grade math, Peter,” you scoffed and fell back on your arm causally. 

“I know it is,” 

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at his back. Nadia began to laugh again but you poked her with your Manolo, a silent signal to keep quiet. She obliged, but her lips still held a wide grin. 

It was always a beautiful sight, her smile. A beaming expression that you rarely saw from her father, but often in photographs of her mother. Their upper lips curled the same way, which only widened her plump lips that she gained from her father. Her blue eyes crinkled at their corners and sparkled when she looked at you head on. Her smile was a wonder of the world, and after you informed her of this, the action that used to be next to impossible to achieve, happened regularly. 

“How many times does eight go into one hundred ten?” Nadia asked you, moving her pencil so you could see her long division problem. 

“Ok, c’mon, you got this. Start small, you know how many times eight goes into eleven right?” 

“But do you?” Peter muttered, just loud enough so you would have no trouble hearing him. 

“Quit, dish bitch,” you picked up another foil ball and tossed it at him. 

You heard him chuckle under his breath. 

“Once,” Nadia stated. 

“Great! Now put the one there, and the eight below,” you guided and Nadia did so. 

You both worked out the rest of the problem, and only one short curse word was said by you by the end. You were never good at long division, or math in general, so a worksheet filed with even basic division and fractions was a nightmare to you. Maybe Peter’s jab had some merit after all… 

When you and Nadia were on the tail end of problems, with your phone calculator out and helping on certain equations, the distinct sound of a key entering the front door’s lock disrupted the little girl. 

“Daddy!” Nadia exclaimed, the problem you were both painstakingly working at was immediately forgotten, as she rushed toward the door to greet her father. 

Roman opened the door just as she reached it, compensating quite well for a surprise rogue nine year old jumping into his arms. 

His hair was handsomely disheveled, likely from running his nimble fingers through it during moments of stress in his day. His suit jacket was discarded, the top button of his dress shirt undone, and his silk tie loosened to reveal more of her perfect alabaster skin. His broad shoulders fought the seams of his shirt and you could tell that he had recently run his sinful pink tongue over his plump bottom lip. He looked positively good enough to eat. 

“Daddy is right,” you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning up the Hershey wrappers to save yourself from combusting over your boss’s good looks. 

“Yes, but not yours,” Peter said, coming over to help you. 

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” you replied with an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, and many have,” he said knowingly. 

You pinched his wrist with manicured nails and he smirked at you. It was no secret the droves of women who lined up to have a chance at landing Roman’s attentions. While many earned an entrance exam, none were asked back. You would sometimes see them with an exaggerated pouts on their lips the morning after as they trudged down the stairs and out the door. You couldn’t blame them for their theatrics or bad moods, however. When Roman Godfrey was on the line, any and all hissy fits were accepted and expected. 

Roman entered the kitchen with Nadia perched on his hip, his jacket and suitcase deposited at the door. 

“Evening, Ms. (Y/L/N),” he greeted professionally, as he sat his daughter on the counter next to you. 

“Evening, Mr. Godfrey,” you greeted melodramatically, something Roman shook his head at. 

You and Roman had never had a strictly employer-employee relationship, but you supposed that’s why you fit in so well in the Godfrey home. Since the day of your interview you were warm, practical, and up front with him and his family. You were nurturing, but firm. You treated Nadia and Roman like you would your own family and friends, and that had made you stick out from the crowd. As much as Roman needed a nanny for his daughter, he needed a friend for himself. He needed a maternal figure for Nadia, and he desperately needed a woman in his life he could trust wasn’t after anything insidious. And you fit all the requirements in spades.

“When will dinner be ready?”

“Twenty minutes, give or take,” Peter replied, peaking into the oven to check on the chicken. 

“I’ll be in my study until then,” Roman replied, as he retrieved his suitcase and then walked back toward his office. 

The sound of the door shutting made you and Nadia sigh. Her little face was void of any more smiles it seemed. 

“Hey,” you reached out and gave her spindly leg a squeeze, “how about we just cheat on the few we have left and watch some TV until dinner?” 

“We aren’t supposed to cheat.” 

“Sweetheart, I promise you that you will never need to do any of this mess in your head again. Calculators are the future -- have been the future! I’m sure when you’re in college they will be implanted in your arm and cheating will be encouraged.” 

“Really?” 

“Maybe,” you shrugged and Nadia crept back over to her worksheet and moved into her seat, “we’ll get your dad and all his scientists right on it.” 

Dinners mainly consisted of Nadia speeding through a book of topics while you and Roman desperately tried to keep up. She was a sociable little girl and always had a story to tell from recess or gym class. She loved playing make believe on the playground, but didn’t love how her peers wouldn’t follow the strict rules she had set up for them. This was often a bone of contention for her, her brows furrowing in frustration as she explained a quarrel she’d had at the slide that day. 

But tonight was different, tonight all she could do was talk about the following day. 

Nadia’s third grade class was going to the Natural History Museum on a field trip and she had been anticipating the trip eagerly for months. Not only because of the normal excitement all children held for field trips, but because this one would be chaperoned by her favorite person in the world: her father. 

You had convinced Roman at the beginning of the school year to sign up to attend the field trip with Nadia. He had hemmed and hawed about it for a week before he reluctantly signed the permission slip and gave it to his giddy daughter to hand in to her teacher. He would never admit it, but you knew that you were the one to push him over the edge into agreeing. 

“This will be one of those memories that will make her smile for the rest of her life. I swear, if my dad had ever come with me on a field trip, I would have never forgotten it.” 

And maybe it was because you had both bonded over absent parents in the past; or maybe it was the look that he often saw on your face when he had a nice moment with Nadia, the look of a little girl trapped behind your eyes, longing for her father to love her like that; or maybe it was because he knew it would make you happy; or maybe he just really believed you. It didn’t matter in the end, because he had agreed and made his little girl very happy. 

“Jenny Krinkles brother had Mrs. Bridge last year, and she said that he said that there is an exhibit where you get to touch all this weird slimy stuff, and I’m not sure why it’s there, but Jenny’s brother said it’s fun! So, daddy, I want to make sure we get to see that, ok? I think you’ll think it’s fun, too,” she prattled on. 

Nadia was too busy reiterating what Jenny’s brother had said about the dinosaur skeletons to notice how her father had become stock still and how his eyes were staring off into space. 

You settled your fork down next to your plate and watched him with a worried expression as his jaw tightened and his eyes bulged. 

“Are you alright, Mr. Godfrey?” you asked quietly, in a hope to not startle him. 

Roman’s stare switched over to you in a mechanical way, his lips formed a hard line as his eyes bore into your skull. 

“Daddy? Are you feeling sick?” Nadia chimed in, now noticing her father’s strange mannerisms and paling complexion, as well. 

“Yes, I-- I feel fine,” Roman dropped his silverware with a soft clatter onto his plate, “I feel fine.” 

You just nodded, but ducked to catch his gaze as he looked away. You wanted him to see your concern and know that you were only there to help. 

“Are you sure? You can’t be sick, you’ll miss the museum, daddy and -” Roman cut off his daughter before she could spiral. 

“Nadia, I’m fine. I am, but… something has came up at work last minute…” and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, it was clear what he was getting at. 

Nadia’s little face crumbled into pure anguish as she burst into hysterical tears. She pushed away the remnants of her dinner and fled the table without a word. While this reaction might have looked like an exaggeration to an outsider, it made sense to you. Nadia rarely got to spend one on one time with her father, it was why she was so reluctant of your hiring and why she sprang to action the second she heard him come home. She loved her father almost to a fault, and when his promises fell through (which they often did) it hurt her a thousand times over. She wanted her father’s attention so desperately and got it so rarely. Not to say that Roman wasn’t a good father, he was just a busy one. A busy single father running a multibillion dollar company. 

Roman called out weakly for his daughter, but the resounding thud of her door being slammed was louder. 

“Fuck!” he raged, pounding the heel of his hand to the table top, causing the dishes to quake. 

“You couldn’t push it off for one day?” you admonished. 

“I don’t fucking need this from you, too.” Roman snapped viciously. 

“I’ll deal with you later,” you bit back, as you took the napkin from your lap and threw it on your plate. 

“You’re not my fucking mother.” 

“And thank Christ I’m not,” you spat back at him, before you ran up the stairs and after Nadia. 

After over an hour of coddling the sobbing nine year old and snuggling her to sleep, you carefully left her under thick blankets and in the comfort of her Barbie night light, and went to find Roman. 

Unsurprisingly, you found him in his office, one a desk lamp illuminating the dark room. His tie had now been completely abandoned and two more buttons had become undone to reveal the ribbed undershirt he wore. Roman held a cigarette and a tumbler of scotch in one hand, and his forehead in the other. 

“What’s the damage?” he asked in a small voice. 

You walked slowly into the room, “She thinks you hate her.” 

“Fuck.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you stood in front of him, “She’s an emotional little girl. And you bailing on her constantly doesn’t help.” 

“So, you’re here to give me a fucking parenting lecture? Because if that’s your goal, I think I’ll pass,” Roman replied with a scowl. 

“But I’m so good at lectures! Can’t you just humor me?” 

You saw Roman’s tense expression falter a bit at your banter, which was silent permission for you to go sit on the corner of his desk. 

“You need to remember your priorities, Mr. Godfrey. Work is work, and I know it’s important to you, but your daughter should always take precedence,” you said. 

Roman was so tall that while you would be looking down at any regular man in a desk chair from your perch, you were eye level with him. In these moments when Nadia was away and it was just the two of you in his office; him in his chair and you firmly planted on the desktop; it was easy to forget the outside world existed. It was easy for you to forget a lot of things when Roman was around. 

“I work so I can give her the best life possible. If that isn’t showing her that she takes precedence, I don’t know what will,” Roman argued, before he gulped from his tumbler. 

“What a boring, easy answer to give.” 

“It’s the truth.” he griped.

“Maybe it is, but it’s not the right answer.” 

“Yeah? Since when was this a test?” Roman scoffed. 

“Since the minute you had her. Parenting is always a test,” you shrugged and Roman let out a humorless chuckle. 

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth…” 

You both let out twin sighs. Roman took a drag from his cigarette before he looked at you. The way he looked at you when he felt weak, helpless and in need of guidance. He had once told you in confidence (and many sheets to the wind) that you were the only person in his life he felt comfortable being vulnerable with. 

I don’t know what we would do without you. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he had slurred as you guided him to the master bedroom. 

You still hadn’t forgotten how the weight of his body around yours felt, or the way he had stared at your lips just a few moments too long, or his musky cologne that had embedded itself into your pores for days. 

“You’re smart, Mr. Godfrey. You’re gonna pass whatever messed up test raising a kid is. You just need to apply yourself and get your priorities straight,” you nudged his shin with the tip of your heel, much like you had done to Nadia earlier, “Daughter first. Work second.” 

“It’s not that simple…” Roman said. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. 

“Since when is anything simple?” 

There was another lull between the two of you, and you were suddenly incredibly aware of how short your skirt had become from your seat. You tugged the sides down your thighs the best you could. You didn’t notice the yearning look Roman gave you as your painted fingers ran over your nylon covered skin. When you looked back at him, his eyes were once again tied with yours. 

“How do you know all this?” he asked, lifting his chin gently. 

You let out a deep sigh, “I just watched my parents do all the wrong things, so I can only guess the opposites are right.” 

“Leighann seems like she turned out all right,” he replied and you smiled. 

Leighann, your younger sister, had been reared by you and you alone. Your parents had fucked off for most of her childhood and it left you to take care of her. Roman of course knew this, as it had come up on your application. He had a knack for remembering important facets of your life that always made your stomach twitch with affection. 

“She did, didn’t she? So, you better take my word for it and start getting your act together. You don’t want her to turn out like me, do you?” as if to prove your point, you stuck out a hand and wiggled two fingers for Roman to pass you his cigarette. 

He looked at you with an amused expression, but did so anyway. He held the smoke by the filter and you took it carefully. When you brought it to your lips, you could taste his fingers and his skin. As you blew out the smoke in a smooth stream from your puckered lips, you watched as Roman’s smirk grew. He widened his legs and reclined back in his seat to take you in. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about grabbing your boss by the wrist and popping his fingers into your mouth, but the way he was looking at you was so primal and seductive, you couldn’t help it. 

You motioned for him to take the cigarette back before your mind talked you into doing something you would regret.  

Roman leaned forward to take back his cigarette, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. 

“I can think of worse people for her to end up like,” his voice husked. 

As you passed the cigarette back to him, you felt the light touch of his calloused fingertips against your own. You hoped Roman didn’t hear the way your breath caught in your chest or the small shiver the touch gave you. 

Roman made a show of taking the cigarette back to his plush lips, setting the filter between them and sucking deep into his lungs. All while his green eyes watched you with purpose. 

“You taste like cherries,” Roman said as smoke billowed from his lips. 

Your thighs pressed together on their own accord to silence the aching between them. 

“So, what are you going to do about the field trip?” you changed the subject without acknowledgment. If you had, you knew it would end up with you on your knees and Mr. Godfrey’s cock in your mouth. And as much as you fantasized about it, you really loved your job, and you couldn’t let your sexual attraction to your boss ruin it.  

“If it was Friday insead of tomorrow, I could make it work. But…” 

“Then you’re making it up to her, y’know? This weekend: daddy-daughter day. No but’s about it. You will spend the entire day with her to make up for being an ass about tomorrow,” you chided. 

“I can do that,” Roman nodded. 

“Good, because I’m serious, Mr. Godfrey. She will remember this moment, you need to outshine the heartbreak with a day of happiness.” 

“Ok.” 

“If you schedule anything for Saturday or claim you are needed at The Tower, I swear to God that I will march down there and force you home myself, got it?” you said, standing up, just barely able to hover over him now. 

“I’d love to see you do that,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Hardy har har,” you waved your hand flippantly, before you began to walk back toward the door. 

“Wait,” Roman called, “what about tomorrow?” 

“What about tomorrow?” 

“Who's gonna chaperone?”

“Oh, I will,” you said with a shrug, “gives me another opportunity to piss off all those stuck up private school moms anyway.” 

Roman’s smirk morphed into a grin, “They’re just jealous.” 

“Don’t I know it.” 

You smiled at him one last time before you started to exit once more.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” you turned to see Roman had stood from his desk and was standing only a pace or two away, “I-- well, thank you. I want to say thank you.” 

“It’s my job,” you laughed good naturedly, hoping to shuck off the tension that had begun to build again now that he was close to you.  

“Still,” he said sincerely, inching nearer, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Godfrey,” you peered up at him with wide eyes as he towered over you. 

There were his eyes darting to stare at your lips, there was his delicious cologne infiltrating your senses, there was his radiating warmth pricking at your skin and erupting goosebumps across your neck. 

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?” 

He seemed to be battling with something, his mouth opening just to close again. His brow furrowed briefly, before relaxing once more with a sigh. 

“Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

You ignored the supreme disappointment that quelled in your belly as you gave a strained smile. 

“Good night, Mr. Godfrey.” and with that, you left.

feedback is always appreciated 

[adamarks]

If one more person says simon snow should lose his wings i’m gonna lose my goddamn mind: a meta

Alright you guys, I’ve had ENOUGH. Simon cannot lose his wings unless you want him to break up with Baz, and this is why.

Let’s start with Baz.

This analysis is obviously Simon-based, and yes i’ll get there, but first we need to look at the biggest key we’ve been given to what Simon’s wings could possibly mean subtextually and metaphorically for the story at large. That key is: Baz’s vampirism. 

Baz being a vampire is constantly compared to/mentioned in tandem with his queerness in Carry On. In his first chapters, what are the three most important traits that we learn about him? 

he’s a drama queen

he’s a vampire

he’s hopelessly in love with simon snow

If you boil his character down until he’s basically just a stick figure, that’s what he is: an over dramatic vampire in love with Simon Snow.

We’ve all read the books, we all know this, and we all know he’s much more than that. What of it?

What’s important is that Baz’s vampirism is treated almost the exact same as his homosexuality. 

Hiding it from everyone, being ashamed of it, knowing what you are but being terrified of it. His dad being “definitely more disappointed in my queerness than my undeadness.” 

I mean, holy shit, let’s look at this bit in Carry on from Chapter 51:

“I think if I got married, to a girl from a good family, my father wouldn’t even care that I’m queer. “

This scene really hits, because how many times have you wondered “What if I was straight? Maybe this thing wouldn’t be as bad?” “What if i was just a straight poc?” “What if I was only gay and not trans?” “What if I was only disabled and not gay on top of it?” What if, what if, what if. Would my life be easier? you wonder. Would I get hurt less? Would people treat me better?

If Carry On is about self-realization, then Wayward Son is about the struggle of self-acceptance. 

Baz going to Las Vegas and meeting Lamb probably seemed familiar for some of you people that are LGBT+. It’s how you feel when you’re from a small town and you go to a big city like New York or Orlando or LA for the first time and you see gay people all around you. Flamboyantly gay! Gay people holding hands! Gay people kissing! Trans people that don’t fit the gender norms! Older trans ladies just walking down the street!

It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating. Your baby-gay brain is so confused because no one’s giving them dirty looks. They don’t look nervous or ashamed. Is this allowed?

The party in the penthouse is glamorous and beautiful and alluring and none of the humans there are scared or look like they’re in real danger. It’s because they aren’t. None of those vampires are there to kill people. 

This is where Baz’s fear of his own nature comes in. Let’s hear it for all you homosexuals in the crowd that are/have been terrified of being predatory. Of turning the gender you’ve been told all of your life you’re not supposed to want into pieces of meat. You feel ashamed for wanting physical intimacy. You feel wrong for wanting emotional intimacy. 

Lamb is the older gay that you meet/learn about/watch on youtube or whatever that makes you learn that no, you’re not inherently evil. Lamb is the queer history, the queer movies, the queer people that you discover that make you learn that “no, i’m not bad. I’m not broken. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful.” 

Baz thinking the sight of Lamb drinking that guy’s blood being alluring and beautiful is crucial to his arc. Baz needs to see that all of him is beautiful. 

So homosexuality = Baz being a vampire? How in the flying fuck does this have anything to do with Simon?

Remember, Baz is our key. His struggles have been happening since book one. Simon just gained his “creature” status at the end of Carry On. He’s new to this. Which means we’re new to the subtext. Which means: let’s dive on into the next big point.

Our Big Bisexual Boy

Whatever label you choose to use for Simon is up to you. As long as we all agree he likes more than one gender then it’s whatevs. I’m going to be using the word bisexual for this meta, though. 

We’re all well aware that Simon is Struggling with his bisexuality in this book. 

“I still haven’t sorted out whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.”

(taken from chapter 21) 

Like....... y’know. We know. It’s... we get it. 

The important part of that quote is that it’s at the Ren Faire. The Ren Faire is the first time Simon’s had his wings out in public since god-knows-when, if ever. This is also the first time he really considers kissing Baz in the book. Kissing Baz in Public.

Any of you that have been to Pride probably got a little bit of the warm fuzzies during this scene. The faire brought back such deep memories of my first pride it was a little bit emotional. I talked to random people, people ran around in rainbow outfits. There was body paint! Stupid hats! Weird dye jobs! The classic pride-flag-as-a-cape look! I talked to so many people and 

“Everyone here is so friendly.”

(also taken from chapter 21)

Everyone was so nice to me.

Baz feels right at home; Simon is all smiles. The only one not having a blast is Penny and she’s (I’m sorry, Penny) the token straight friend in these books. 

I don’t know how Rainbow did it, but she made me relive my first pride through Simon, and I’ll never not be grateful for that. 

“Today I’m someone else entirely. Today I’m just a bloke with fake red wings.”

The Pride/Ren Faire parallels were pretty obvious, but I wanna get a little further into the whole “wings = being bisexual” thing. 

We’ve established with Baz that being a magical creature or whatnot is Gay, but while Baz is fully magical, Simon’s “half-normal.” Kind of. It’s a weird situation there but half-normal works for the argument. 

“’Smells like dragon... but also smells like iron. Another abomination!’” 

(chapter 35)

Now the word “abomination” is really fucking unfortunate in this context, but biphobia exists so idk man. I’m gonna start talking in gay/straight terms and I absolutely know bisexuality isn’t half-gay half-straight but we’re talking in metaphors and i’ll tie it together at the end so just stick with me, okay?

He’s part dragon, part Normal (kind of). Simon’s not like Baz where he’s absolutely, 100% a vampire. He has traits of dragons and humans. This is why it’s so bad that he hates his wings half the time. They are part of him. They may not be “normal” and he may have to hide them, but he can’t just cut off the gay part. Our queerness doesn’t define us, but it’s a defining feature. 

Penny says she wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a mage. Simon wouldn’t be Simon if he wasn’t bi. 

The mistake Simon and almost everyone else makes during this book is that they think of his wings as these separate entities. There is no gay part and straight part of Simon Snow. All of him is Simon. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his wings, all of him is Simon. He might’ve discovered this part of himself during a tragic point in his life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be something bad. It doesn’t have to be something tainted. 

Sometimes you discover things about yourself during the hardest moments of your life. When you’re already down in the dirt, beaten and bruised, sometimes a mirror is put in front of you and you realize something. You realize you’re trans. You realize you’re gay. And sometimes you resent those realizations because they came to you at the worst possible time. “This is just one more thing on my plate,” you think. 

This series is about reclaiming the things that where taken from you by the ones that hurt you. 

Simon’s going to have to learn to love his wings, because even though they remind him of something that hurts-- hurts more than anything-- they’re part of him. They are him, as much as the rest of his body is. Simon’s going to have to forgive himself, and learn to love himself for all that he is. 

Because all that he is is beautiful. 

We all know it; it’s time for him to understand that.

All right, bitches. Let’s get to the bit we all REALLY care about. this is the one that really fucks me up my dudes. Because it’s Brutal. But anyways here we go.

His wings are the Big Baz Love 

What are the two things that Simon’s  considering cutting off in this book?

“That’s what I’m going to say when I break up with Baz.”

“Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready.”

(Chapter 2, Epilogue)

Yikes!

My guys..... Simon and Baz don’t kiss unless Simon’s wings are out.

I truly do not understand how some of you are out here saying Simon’s gonna lose his wings I really don’t. It’s stressful. I’m stressed. Ms. Rainbow Rowell, you have me stressed. 

His Wings! Are! His Love!

On Love’s Light Wings!

Goatman dances his nasty little fingers all over the bridge that is Baz’s ass? Wings out, uses his tail to help kill the guy. Lamb is hitting on Baz too much? 

“’Spell my wings off.’”

(Chapter 45)

In the airport, when a lady is giving them the “don’t be gay” stink eye he immediately checks to make sure his tail is hidden. 

Baz can’t spell his wings off, guys. 

Baz can’t spell his wings away.

“’Snow needs you to cast your angel spell on him. I hid his wings for breakfast, but they’re still there.’“

(Chapter 19)

In Chapter 41, the biggest kiss scene we get, Simon wraps his wings around Baz to hold him. He’s embracing him in his love guys. Guys. 

Have you people noticed how i’m suddenly less articulate? It’s because i’m in crisis. Set me on fire I wouldn’t notice. I’ve been living with this terrible knowledge.

The first scene we finally see them kiss is after the scene at the Ren Faire when Simon’s wings are finally out and he finally got to fly.

“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming.” 

Simon is so dtf in this scene Penny throws a water bottle at them, and it hits him in the wing. 

“’So hot,’ Simon Says. ‘Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself.’

Bunce throws a plastic bottle over my shoulder, and it smacks Simon in the wing.”

(Chapter 22)

She had to smack him right in the love for him to calm down, my dudes, my guys. Do you realize how hard it was for me to annotate this goddamn book with this knowledge? Every. Single. Time. Simon stretches a wing or flaps them around it’s about Baz. It gets to the point where you have to put the book down or you’re gonna explode. 

Simon’s wings are always out around Lamb. He’s jealous as hell and he hates that motherfucker’s guts. The only real injuries Simon sustains in this book are to his wings and they’re almost always when Baz gets hurt too. 

When did Simon get his wings? Only a day after he first kissed Baz.

Simon’s love for Baz is so big and so obnoxious he can’t hide it. His wings and tail have spikes, because that’s all Simon knows. He’s rough around the edges, he’s been hurt, he’s been used.

He’s never been in love before.

His love is spiky; it’s loud. It’s hotrod red and you can’t miss it when it’s out. Baz can’t see it, because Simon’s tucked it away. He hasn’t flown with it. He hasn’t wrapped it around Baz in so long. He doesn’t know how to handle a love this big, where to put it, when to unfurl it. 

Simon gets jealous. He gets scared. He’s insecure. He wants so dearly to finally give to someone instead of feeling like he’s just giving in. Like he’s still just taking from Baz.

What do you do with wings? 

How do you find somewhere safe to fly?

The Resolution.

I said earlier that if Carry On is a story of self-discovery, Wayward Son is a story of self-acceptance.

Simon has to love himself, and learn that his love for Baz is a good thing. As he accepts himself (and his dragon powers evolve go read my dragon simon meta it’s good.) he’s going to start to shine. 

This is a story being told to us with nothing but love. This is a story about a boy that’s his own worst enemy-- as all of us often are. It’s so scary to accept our wings. It’s so scary to accept our fangs. Especially when they’ve come out of such a hideous occurrence. 

We need to accept these dark times and acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we were made more beautiful because of them. Maybe the light we give after we’ve been in darkness is more vibrant, because we know how scary the dark is. The things that happened to us were horrible, and hideous, and terrifying, but we aren’t. We’re different from how we were before, but we’re still beautiful. 

Simon Snow is going to accept himself.

Simon Snow is going to accept his past.

Simon Snow is going to finally, finally tell Baz he loves him.

And for the first time, Simon Snow is going to see that he’s beautiful.

If you’ve liked this meta you should also check out this one where i explain how they’re finally gonna get their relationship together. Also the one about the scarf

Special thank you to @singerofsimplesongs for listening to me howl and screech about this damn thing. 

Tagging some people that might be interested!

@neck-mole @watfordwallflower @carrybits @theflyingpeach @fight-surrender @shitty-posty-times @wisest-girl @slaying-fictional-dragons @gucciglitzy

[arwenaminwho]

Finally

Hey guys! I know it's been a while since I shared a story, but I couldn't do it because of school, but now we're in quarantine and I have a lot of time. I know there are not much of a people reads Theseus anymore but I kinda have a crush on him since first I seen him in the movie so I wanted to get him out of my chest.

This is my second English story (English is not my native language) so I’m really sorry if I did any mistakes I tried my best. Thank you for the ones who read and I would really, really appreciate if you guys give me feedback! Enjoy! (I hope.)

Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader Angst! Fluff! (I think?) Jealous and protective Scamander basically. And please read it like Leta doesn't exist.

Word count: 2,365

It was the early hours of the morning, the sun was just born in the sky started to shine and let people know that the morning has come. You spend your whole night in the ministry to find a new clue about Grindelwald, this was the new normal for the Aurors, because of the new dark wizard's actions and the pains he brought over the people -magical or non-magical- everyone in the ministry was working with all they have.

You started to gather the information to files that you found over the night and rise from your desk to take them to your boss, Theseus Scamander.

He was the youngest Head Auror ever become and he was, as people call him, a war hero. And also for your opinion probably the most charismatic one too.

You admitted yourself that you had a tiny bit of a crush to him, but you just couldn’t help it, he was the most charming person you ever encountered of and he was caring, friendly and kind. Your crush was a harmless one for your opinion and you did everything that you can do to make it stay hidden.

You knocked twice on the Head Aurors door and waited for the ‘come in’ response, after you hear it you opened the door and you entered the room.

“Good morning, Mr Scamander,” you said with a warm voice, when he heard your voice, he raised his head from the files that he was working on and looked at you. He smiled warmly,

“Good morning to you too, Ms (Y/S). You spend the night in the office too, as it would seem.”

You started to walk closer to the desk while replying.

“There is too much thing to do, sir.” You handed him files that you worked on. He takes them and started to examine. 

“They look perfect, thank you Ms (Y/S).” You smiled, 

“Anything else should I do?”

He looked at you in the eye, “No, no. You can go home and rest.” he said with a certain voice. 

“I don’t need to rest, if you don’t have a work for me I can continue working on my usual work,” you said with a serious voice. You didn’t want to go home and rest while he works all the time. 

“You are overworking yourself.” he sounded worried.

“So are you.”

“I-” he stopped and looked at you deeply while trying to organize his words. 

“I am the head of this department Ms (Y/S), it is expected me to work this hard, you should go home and rest.” he sounded like he didn’t want this debate to continue.

“As I said, I feel fine, then I just go and help with the case that Mr Black working on.” 

Theseus Scamander rubbed his neck and nods his head while giving up. “No, he can handle himself, if you really want to continue working, you can go to Department of International Magical Cooperation and join the investigation of James Grobler, they wanted an Auror to help them, he is a British Grindelwald supporter known for his crimes in France, and he is under arrest in there, we are trying to bring him here for his court.” 

“Of course, Mr Scamander, I’m going right away, thank you.” you sounded relieved and smiled at him, he was still looking at you worriedly but he returned your smile while looking at your eyes, and you left the room.

---------------------------------------

“Anything else that I can help you with, Mr Slughorn?”

You were working here for hours, and you wanted to leave as quickly as possible because of the Head of the Department's actions, He was supposed to set another department employee to work with you but for some reason, after he sees you, he wanted to accompany you by himself. And with every opportunity, he tried to flirt with you. You did everything to be still kind to him and tried to avoid his flirting but you started to get tired of it.

“Oh no, (Y/N), I was wondering maybe we can have lunch? We’ll be working together till sort this mess, it wouldn’t harm to get to know each other,” he said slyly.

And there was that, he started to call you by your name without even ask.

“Thank you, Mr Slughorn, but I still have some work to do, maybe some other time.” It seemed like the easiest way to decline him is excusing the work.

“There is no better time than now, and I believe you worked hard enough, you go sort your things up and I will come and get you in 15 minutes,” he said loosely.

And he left without even waiting for your response. You were raging while going back to your office, but you couldn’t know how to get out from this situation, you didn’t want to be rude, but at this point, you had no other option then be rude or go dinner with him.

“Ms (Y/S), how was your day?” You raised your head with the voice and see Theseus Scamander. You were standing in the corridor of your department, it was deserted because of all employees was gone to lunch. You stoped and turn towards him.

“It was decent, thank you, sir. We believe we can bring Mr Gobler here after a week, French wants to question him first, after they will send him to us. We still have some paperwork to do while he comes here. And after there will be court.” 

He looked at you brightly, “ Good.” he stopped for a while and continued, “And maybe now you can go home and rest.” 

You didn’t know what to say, it would be better for you to be busy here you thought, you would have an excuse to not to go lunch with Slughorn. Or maybe you can ask to pardoned from this case. You tried to gain your courage and ask him.

“Mr Scamander?” you called him after a hesitation.

“Yes?” he looked at you immediately with all his attention.

“I was wondering if someone else can take my position in this case, its already about to finish and, and I don’t think there are many things left for me to do,” you said while couldn’t look at his eyes.

He looked at you frowning. “You wanted a case from me so badly and now you want to quit? Has something happened?” 

“Ms (Y/S)?” he called you to gain your attention when you not answered.

You started to get anxious, “Oh no, not really. It's fine, it has just become boring, I think, after the cases, we are working on here. It's not important, please do forget it.” you said with a weak smile. You were not going to complain about other Head of a Department to him. He continues to look at you not buying your excuse.

“You know you can talk to me, you can’t just ask me to pardon you one of your cases without a proper explanation. Talk to me,” he said with worried and a curious voice.

You wished you never mention it to him, you didn’t think it would be a professional thing to do complain about other employees and especially, another head of a department. And you weren’t even sure that if he would believe you, and maybe it was just you exaggerating things. You wanted to end this conversation but he was looking at you so concerned and interested.

“No, look, please, it’s just-”

your words cut by another voice.

“(Y/N)!”

You rolled your eyes when you hear your name. Theseus looked at him curiously.

“Mr Slughorn.”

He walked closer to you and Theseus while both of you watch him come closer. Theseus narrowed his eyes while looking at him, probably he was trying to find where this sincerity was coming from.

“Oh, Scamander, you are here too! We were just about to go to lunch with this lovely lady.” 

You couldn't find anything to say towards his audacity and you gawked at him. Theseus was aghast and looked at your face. You couldn’t look at him. 

“I told you, Mr Slughorn I have some work to do, I cannot come with you to lunch.” or anywhere else you wanted to say. You were starting to lose your patience. 

“I'm really wondering what are you doing to your employees, Scamander. They all have this love for their work.” He smiled loosely to him. “Come on, (Y/N). We won’t be late, I promise.” he winked at you.

You could believe that this was happening. You opened your mouth to say something. 

“I think-” Theseus started to talk between his teeth. Not letting you talk. He looked very angry, “What Ms (Y/S) is trying to is rejecting you kindly if I were you I would take the sign and stop asking.” 

Slughorn looked bewildered. “I don’t think she is, right (Y/N)? Then why would she flirt with me all day?”

“Flirting with you? Excuse me? I was trying to be kind to you and make you stop flirting with me! I said no to your lunch offer more than four times.” you were furious. 

Slughorn’s face started to blush, “You were just playing hard to get, and now you are just being a bitch, I w-”

“ROMANUS!” Theseus shouted and cut his sentence. He looked furious. “How dare you talk with her like this!”

“I-I” he tried to talk apprehensive. 

Theseus seemed outraged, “If I ever, ever hear you talk to her like this, talk about her like this, I will end you. Do you hear me? Now apologise and get out of my sight!”

“I-I didn’t say anyt-” he stuttered.

“I SAID APOLOGISE!” his hands were shaking.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry (Y/N), okay? Happy?” he looked like he wanted to get this over with and leave.

“Ms (Y/S).”

“What?”

“Ms (Y/S),” he repeats while looking at him irritated.

“I’m sorry, Ms (Y/S).” 

“Good, now get out,” he said dismissively.

Slughorn looked at him diffidently and rapidly walked away. After he left there was a silence, you couldn’t know what to say so you opened your mouth to say thank you. 

“Mr Sc-”

“Follow me,” he said while started to walk to his office.

After you both get inside of his office, he closed the door. He turns toward to you, he looked like still angry and bitter.

“I’m sorry.”

You weren’t expecting this.

“What? For what?”

He glances up to your eyes. “When you told me that you didn’t want to continue work there I shouldn't have to question you. You never wanted something like this before, I should’ve just accepted it.”

“You are my boss, this is your job to question me.” You didn’t understand why he blamed himself.

“Still... I- I shouldn’t even send you there, it wasn’t your job, you should’ve gone home,” he said resentfully.

“Mr Scamander, I wanted to work, and you gave me something to work. You don’t have to be sorry.” 

“I just can’t help it! While thinking he molested you all morning!” he sounded furious again.

You couldn��t know what to say. 

“And he came here and disrespected you like that,” he continued.

“Thank you for standing up for me.”

He looked at you surprised, “Of course I will stand up for you, always, you are the one that I l-”

“What?” you asked curiously. It was not possible. 

“Nothing, please go to your home, rest.” he turned his back to you and started to look out from the charmed window.

You looked at him, it was impossible for you to let this go, you didn’t think you would have any other opportunity other than this moment. You walked towards him and held his arm. 

“Just tell me.” Please. You looked at his eyes. 

And finally, he looked at yours. He understood that he had no other choice but to tell. 

“I like you. No. I love you. You have a charm that I can’t take my eyes from it. Your smile, and I-”

He breathed out loud.

“Please do forget it. Just leave.” He sounded broken.

“I don’t want to forget it. I feel the same,” you whispered. He looked at you agape. 

You looked at his eyes while he looking at yours.

And he couldn’t hold himself any longer and he leans close and kiss you as if this is the biggest thing he wants to do in his life. You continue kissing him hungrily. He breaks the kiss after a while and leaned his forehead to yours.

“You can’t believe how much I wanted to do this for a long time,” he whispered.

“So am I.” You breathed. “I thought you were impossible for me.”

“So am I.” He told you while smiling. You smiled too.