#but I need like another three hours to mentally recover from the scare he gave me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elspethc22 · 3 years

Text

They Make Sense

Scilesweek Day 1: POV Outsider

Title: They Make Sense

Pairings: Scott/Stiles, Scott/Kira (mentioned only as a possibility)

Word count: 4976

Being the new kid in school absolutely sucked. Being the new kid in school halfway through the school year? Even worse! Being the new kid in school, halfway through the year, with a teacher for a parent? They type of situation that definitely warranted a ‘let the ground open up and swallow me whole’ plea to whatever deity may exist and be listening.

Seriously, was there like some induction for all new parents on how to best embarrass your kids at different stages of their life? Like, welcome to parenthood, here’s your handy guide for embarrassing your child, broken into helpful sections on different developmental stages for your convenience. Good luck and happy embarrassing!

Kira lifted her head off the desk and attempted a weak smile, and catches the eye of a cute boy a few rows ahead and one row over from her. He was staring at her, like most of their classmates, but he was smiling and it brought a real, albeit small, smile to her lips. Then he was poked with a pencil by the pale boy in front of him, and he turned away.

As she watched, the pale boy said something that had the first boy grinning and shaking his head and the pale boy smiling wide.

Although she tried to pay attention throughout the rest of the class, she kept finding herself distracted by the two boys. Whenever her dad was distracted, or writing on the board, the pale one would turn around to say something to the first boy, or show him something or even just grin. Once or twice the first boy poked the pale boy in the shoulder with his pencil, then quickly looked down at his book, as if he was taking notes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The pale boy never looked annoyed – or he did, but it didn’t look very sincere, and he was always grinning when he turned back around.

She thought about going up to them, introducing herself, but they were some of the first out the door when the bell rang.

Her dad followed her into the hall, and as she tried to explain how embarrassing her was never going to be helpful, she spotted the two boys out of the corner of her eye. The pale one was staring at his locker, hand on the lock, and the other boy was watching him, talking.

Kira watched in confusion as the pale boy shook his head at his locker, then looked up at the other boy and seemed to panic about something, pulling the other boy towards him, keeping his head tucked into his chest and leading him away. Then her dad distracted her, and she let the odd behaviour slip from her mind.

***************************************************************************

The following day, Kira decided to spend lunch outside, enjoy the sun before the weather turned. As she wandered around, looking for somewhere to sit where she wouldn’t be intruding, she spotted the boys from her history class. She walked in their direction, and then heard what they were talking about.

‘ – near death experience and comes out of it seeing things?’ The cute boy asked his friends.

‘And is unable to tell what’s real or not?’ The pale boy continued.

‘And is being haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives?’ A pretty brunette girl added on.

‘They’re all locked up because they’re insane.’ Another boy answered, and as Kira approached, thoughts of Bardo coming to her, she only half-heard some weird conversation between the pale boy and the new one about being helpful and childhoods spent in freezers.

‘Hi. Hi. Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing what you guys were talking about.’ Kira said, cursing herself internally for her weird introduction and tendency to ramble when nervous. ‘And, I think I actually might know what you’re talking about.’

They were all staring at her, and she noticed the pale boy give a quick glance to his friends before focusing back on her.

‘There’s a Tibetan word for it. It’s called “Bardo”. It literally means “in-between state”. The state between life and death.’ She told them, and they stared at her, for a beat, before the red-head girl spoke.

‘And what do they call you?’ She asked Kira, and Kira definitely detected more than a hint of who the hell are you in her tone. But before Kira could answer, the cute boy from history class answered for her.

‘Kira.’ His friends looked at him, and Kira noticed that the pale boy had an almost indecipherable look on his face as he stared. ‘She’s in our history class.’

The cute boy was talking to them all, but his focus stayed on the boy next to him and when he spoke again his voice was softer.

‘Mr Yukimura introduced her yesterday, remember? Before you poked me and told that stupid joke?’ His voice turned teasing as he said the last bit, and Kira watched the pale boy smile and nod slowly, as if remembering. When Kira looked around the table, she saw that the other boy and the brunette were watching the boys with half concerned, half fond/annoyed (the girl and boy respectively) looks on their faces. The red-head, however, was watching her with a look that seemed to be a mix of contemplative and protective.

‘So, are you talking Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?’ The red-head asked, drawing attention away from the boys and back to Kira. Kira nodded, and then started to tell them more of what she knew about Bardo, sitting down in the empty space beside the pale boy, and she tried not to notice, or take it personally, when he slid away from her slightly, towards the cute boy. And she really needed to learn their names if she was going to keep talking to them.

When she told them all that the final stage of Bardo was death, the looks they all shared were all scared and concerned, which confused her, but then as she watched, they all seemed to school their faces, and the cute boy turned to her.

‘So, Kira. Your family only just moved to Beacon Hills, right?’ He asked, and she let him change the subject, though it just confused her more.

‘Uh, yeah. Three weeks ago. I think mum used to live here when she was younger, and she and dad just decided to move us here.’ She told them.

‘Well, welcome to Beacon Hills, and Beacon Hills High. I’m Scott, by the way.’ The cute boy told her.

‘I’m Lydia.’ Kira turned to see the red-head giving her a smile, though it didn’t seem quite sincere, although Kira nodded.

‘Allison.’ The brunette told her, and her smile was more genuine. The boy beside her didn’t say anything until Allison nudged him, and he looked at her briefly and said ‘Isaac’ before looking away again.

‘And uh, this is Stiles.’ Scott said when the pale boy didn’t seem inclined to introduce himself. He clapped the boy beside him on the shoulder, which seemed to startle him. She watched as Stiles looked up at Scott, and although she couldn’t see Stiles’ face, she watched as Scott’s went from concerned to fond before he leant forward to whisper something into Stiles’ ear, tilting his head in her direction. Stiles turned his head towards her, gave her a small smile and a wave of the hand, then went back to staring at the table, though Kira thought he leaned in to Scott’s hand which had remained on his shoulder, and Scott’s eyes flickered towards him.

Kira was about to say something, but the bell rang signalling the end of lunch, and the others all started collecting their belongings and standing up.

She stood too, and was trying to think of something, anything to say when they started walking away from the table.

‘Hey, thanks for information on the Bardo thing.’ Scott said to her, having held back to wait for Stiles to finish collecting his things. She smiled at him, and nodded, but before she could say anything else, Stiles stood straight, and then he nearly tripped on – well, Kira wasn’t sure what, actually, there didn’t seem to be anything to trip on – and would have face planted on the grass if Scott hadn’t caught him.

She knew Scott had forgotten all about her as he helped steady Stiles, ducking his head close to the other boy. He rubbed his hand up and down Stiles’ arm a few times, then wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, and started to lead him away, keeping Stiles close to him as they went.

When Kira got home, she completed her homework, then spent a few hours doing more thorough research on Bardo, so she could give Scott, and his friends, more detailed information on the phenomenon. As she worked, her mind kept slipping back to lunch, and what she’d seen between Scott and Stiles. They were definitely close, and Scott seemed to be very protective of the other boy. Stiles had seemed wary of her, and also, now that she thought about it, looked really tired. Maybe he had been sick recently and was still recovering, so Scott was just looking out for him.

She printed off her research, and made a mental note to put it in her bag before she went to help her mum get ready for dinner.

***************************************************************************

The next day, she greeted Scott before class, telling him about the research on Bardo she’d done for him, although when she went to pull out the pages they weren’t in her bag.

‘Kira, you forgot that research you did for that boy you like.’ Her father’s voice sounded from behind her and her eyes grew wide. She took the offered pages, then all but shoved them into Scott’s hands, avoiding looking at his face so she wouldn’t have to see his expression. She moved quickly, taking a seat and was thankful when Scott sat a few seats ahead of her in the row over.

She tried to shift her attention, focus on her dad and what he was saying as he started the class, but her eyes kept darting back over to Scott without her permission. He was flicking through the printouts she’d given him, but she noticed when he sat up straight suddenly. Kira looked up to see his friend, Stiles, had been called to the front of the class to read.

But instead of reading, Stiles was clenching the podium tightly, blinking furiously and looking like he was on the verge of passing out as he looked down at the page and then back up at the class. Did he have a problem with public speaking?

As she watched, Scott stood abruptly.

‘Stiles? Are you ok?’ He asked, but Stiles didn’t respond. He looked around the room, breathing heavily, then looked back down at the podium, closing his eyes. ‘Stiles?’

Scott moved forward swiftly, moving to Stiles’ side and telling her dad he was taking the other boy to the nurse. Her dad just nodded in shock as Scott put one arm around Stiles’ waist, the other on his arm, keeping close to his side and led him quickly from the room. She watched them go, faintly heard Scott telling Stiles to breath before the door closed behind them.

Her dad tried to pull the class back to their work, but Kira didn’t notice until she heard her name.

‘Kira. Perhaps you can come up and read the passage for us.’ She looked over at him, and saw that he was giving her a look which meant she needed to just do what he was asking and not argue. So she stood and made her way to the front of the room and read the passage, helping her dad to pull the attention off the two boys and back into the lesson.

When the bell rang, her classmates began to scoop up their bags, putting their books and other things back into them and making their way out of the class and off to lunch as her dad reminded them of their required reading.

Kira zipped up her backpack, and was about to leave when she noticed that Scott and Stiles had both left their bags behind. She looked around, and saw that everyone else had left, and none of their other friends were in this class. So she picked them up, and went looking for them. Doing something nice was how you made friends, right?

***************************************************************************

As the weeks passed, Kira did find herself enveloped into Scott’s group once she was introduced to the world of the supernatural, of kitsunes, werewolves, banshees and more. It was great to finally have friends, but also to finally understand what had been going on with her, and to have people who could sort of understand what it was like to be so different.

There were also a few brief moments where Kira thought maybe she and Scott were getting closer over those weeks, from him coming for dinner at her house, to their foray into criminal activity to delete the photos from her phone and the party.

Then Stiles went missing, the first time, and everything went crazy. From nogitsunes and chaos and murder to finding out her mum was over 900 years old and had been lying to her, her entire life, any possible thing with Scott was pushed to the back burner.

And Scott? Well, Scott’s focus was all on Stiles. And at the end of it all, when Stiles and the nogitsune were separated, the nogitsune, and some of their friends, dead, and some time had passed and they all seemed to be starting to heal, Kira was able to think about possibilities with her and Scott, and she went to find him.

His mum was just leaving for another shift at the hospital and let her in with a quick ‘he’s in his room.’

She made her way quietly up the stairs, and was about to turn into Scott’s room when she heard the voices and stopped. She’d like to say she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the pain she heard had her not wanting to intrude, and then fearing that retreating would call attention to her presence – she was actually very surprised Scott hadn’t heard her coming up the stairs.

‘Scott, I don’t know how to keep going. Every time I close my eyes, it’s like I’m back there – trapped in my own mind, with a front row seat to everything it did. And the one memory that’s stuck on repeat? It’s you, that night at the clinic.’

‘It wasn’t you Stiles, you know it wasn’t you and I’d neverblame you for that.’ Kira really shouldn’t be listening to this, it was clearly a very private moment between them and she should absolutely leave now.

‘It might not have been me, Scotty, but I still remember it. I could feel it as it happened, it felt like my hands holding the sword, pushing it in, twisting it, feeding off your pain. Liking it.’ That last bit was whispered so softly Kira almost didn’t hear it.

‘It got into your mind, Stiles. It wasn’t you, and it wasn’t your fault. You heard Mrs Yukimura talk about it, about how powerful it was. There’s nothing you, or anyone, could have done to stop it, especially when we didn’t know about it until it was too late.’

‘I should have done something when I knew I left the message for Barrow.’ Stiles said, his voice broken.

‘Like what? Locked yourself up in Eichen House sooner? All that did was delay everything – until we knew how to stop it, there wasn’t anything any of us could do except try and hold it off, stop the damage from being too much. And you did hold it off Stiles, you tried – I know you tried to stop it, to fight back and minimise the damage it would do. When Derek and I were on the roof of the hospital, before we figured out what it had done to the wiring, do you know what we could smell? You – struggling. You were trying to stop it.’

After this, there was silence, and after a few moments of internal debate, Kira very slowly (and as silently as possible) poked her head around the frame of Scott’s room to peer in.

The two boys were sitting on Scott’s bed – they had clearly been sitting opposite each other as they spoke, judging by the way Scott was leaning forward on his knees to hug Stiles. As she watched, Scott started to lean back, pulling Stiles with him, shifting until he was sitting more comfortably and hauled Stiles onto his lap.

Stiles was crying, and Scott kept one arm wrapped around Stiles’ waist, preventing him from wiggling away, while his other hand rubbed circles on Stiles’ back.

As Kira watched, Scott appeared to be whispering into Stiles ear. Stiles was quieting now, no longer shifting or fighting against Scott’s hold. The opposite, in fact – now he let his body go, slumping into Scott’s arms, resting his head against Scott’s chest.

‘Why are you always so good to me?’ Stiles asked softly, and Scott looked at him fondly.

‘Because you are the most important person in this world to me, outside my mum. You remember what you said to me at that motel? I can’t do this without you either, Stiles. So I’m always going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe and I’m always gonna be here, no matter what. I love you, Stiles. Always have, always will.’

There was a beat of silence as Stiles pulled back, looked at Scott.

‘I love you too, Scott.’ Stiles responded, cautiously, his voice even. Scott gave him a small smile, then shook his head.

‘I know you do, but I meant… I meant more than just how I’ve always loved you.’ Scott told him, and Stiles just looked at Scott. ‘I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, or like you have to feel the same, but it’s kind of been building for a while and I nearly lost you so I just had to – ’

Scott was cut off as Stiles pressed their lips together, bringing one of his hands up to cradle the back of Scott’s head. And now Kira really needed to leave. Cross her fingers and hoping that Scott wouldn’t hear her she made her way as quietly as possible back down the stairs.

Then, just as she was about to open the door to leave, she realised that Scott would be able to tell she’d been there – he’d smell her scent. So she opened the door as carefully as possible, then knocked, loudly.

‘Scott!! Are you here? Your bike is outside, and the door’s unlocked, so I’m guessing you’re here…’ She called out, stepping inside and closing the door, audibly, then started her way up the stairs, making sure to let each footfall make a sound. ‘Scott?’

Just as she reached the top of the stairs, Scott’s popped out of his room.

‘Kira! Hi! Uh, what’re you doing here? I mean, what’s up?’ He asked, looking a bit flushed.

‘Oh, I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing, and Stiles too.’ His eyes widened and she wanted to bite her tongue.

‘Stiles? What do you mean?’

‘I didn’t want to intrude on Stiles and his dad, but I thought you’d know how he’s doing so…’ She trailed off and shrugged, hoping he believed her. And it was mostly the truth – she would have asked him about Stiles before she knew the other boy was here. Thankfully Scott nodded.

‘Yeah, he’s um… he’s doing ok. He’s getting there.’ She smiled.

‘That’s great, Scott. I’m really glad he’s alright. Oh, um, my mum said something last night – she told me to suggest that if he has any trouble relaxing or sleeping to try tea.’ She said, remembering the conversation she’d had with her mum last night as they’d discussed what had happened.

‘Tea?’ Scott asked, and she nodded.

‘Yeah. Specifically chamomile. I honestly don’t know if that’s just a like, mum thing or it’s actually helpful with this specific type of thing but I remember her giving him some when he came over to talk to her.’

‘I remember – it helped. Well, I don’t know if it was the actual tea, or your mum just telling me it would help but it did. It helped me calm down a bit.’ Stiles said, coming up beside Scott in the doorway, nearly making Kira jump since she wasn’t expecting it and hadn’t heard him moving.

‘Oh, hey Stiles. I didn’t realise – I didn’t mean to interrupt or anything, I just wanted to check on Scott, and… well, I guess you already know, you probably already heard.’ Kira wanted to face palm – she’d gotten so much better at not rambling in front of these guys recently, as they’d become friends, but knowing that she’d stood there and listened to what was very clearly a private moment had her flustered.

‘Yeah. Thanks, for not wanting to just drop by my place, I haven’t really been the most… sociable.’

‘Of course. I can’t even imagine… well, I was worried about you, both of you. Hence coming by to see Scott. But you guys are spending time together, and that’s good, and I don’t want to interrupt so I’m just gonna go now, but you’re looking better Stiles, which is good, really good. And you look good too, Scott. Um… ok, bye!’ She nearly shouted the farewell and turned to race down the stairs.

Just as she was reaching for the door, a hand touched her shoulder.

‘Hey.’ It was Scott.

‘Uh, hey.’ She said.

‘Look… I uh… I know you were upstairs earlier.’ He said softly and she felt her heart drop and her eyes widen.

‘Oh, god I’m so sorry Scott. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I was just coming up to see you like I said, but then I heard you talking and it sounded really important and I didn’t want to interrupt but then I should’ve just left, but I thought if you heard me leaving I’d interrupt the conversation so I stayed but I shouldn’t have – ’

‘Kira.’ He cut her off, put a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle, comforting squeeze. ‘It’s ok, I’m not mad. I know you’re not the kind of person to just go around listening in on conversations. And I could’ve said something, but it was the first time Stiles had really talked to me so I didn’t want to do anything to stop that. But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.’

‘It’s not?’ She asked, confused, and he shook his head.

‘No. I wanted to apologise.’ He told her, and she was more confused.

‘Apologise? Why?’

‘I want you to know that… I like you, Kira. You’re a really good person. And I kinda thought… there were a few times when I thought that maybe you want to be more than friends and for a little while I thought I might too but this thing with Stiles…’ He trailed off, looking like he was thinking about how to say what he wanted to say.

‘Scott. It’s ok. I mean, yeah, I like you. And I did think, maybe… but honestly? If I think about it? It makes a lot of sense, you and Stiles.’ She told him honestly, and the more she thought about it, the more it really did make sense. She thought about all the little moments she’d seen between Scott and Stiles, all the way back to that first history class.

The way they moved around each other, the way their eyes always sought each other out in a group or crowd, the way they’d drop almost anything for the other. How they moved and spoke and often thought in sync.

‘Really?’ Scott asked, and she saw a small smile tugging at his lips.

‘Yeah. And I’m happy for you, Scott – both of you. Don’t feel bad for something this good – and besides, we never really even did anything, or even talked about anything, so I’m not upset, I promise. And more than anything I might have felt or could have felt, I’m just glad we’re friends.’ She told him, smiling.

‘I’m glad we’re friends too.’ He told her, in that amazingly sincere way of his. She reached out and drew him into a quick hug, then stepped back.

‘Tell Stiles again I’m really happy to see him doing better? And hopefully we’ll see him back at school soon – when he’s ready, but hopefully soon.’ She said, and he nodded.

‘I will. And thanks, for coming by.’ Scott told her and she just smiled. Then she turned to open the door, and stepped out. Scott stepped up behind her, holding the door so he could close it. Just before she stepped down off the porch, she turned back.

‘Scott?’ She said, and he cocked his head. ‘It’s really good to see you happy again, both of you. I only saw it a couple of times when I first met you before everything… well, it’s just good to see.’ She told him, and he smiled.

‘It’s good to feel happy again. It feels like I shouldn’t sometimes but – ’

‘I didn’t know her as well as the rest of you, but I think she’d want you to be happy too. She’d be happy that you’re happy.’ She told him, and he looked sad for a moment at the semi-direct mention of Allison, but then he nodded.

‘You’re right. I really am glad we’re friends. I’ll see you at school on Monday?’ He asked, and she nodded.

‘I’ll see you Monday.’ Then she turned and headed to her car. By the time she slid behind the wheel and glanced back at the house, the door was closed, but a quick glance up showed Stiles standing at the window of Scott’s room. She gave a small wave, which he returned before he turned his head away from the window, presumably to the sound of Scott. She started the engine, and headed home.

***************************************************************************

Monday morning found Kira arriving early to school, pulling her car into one of the many empty spots. As she hopped out of the car, she spotted Lydia getting out of her own car just a few spots down. Kira made her way over to her, and they were just catching up with each other when Kira spotted Stiles’ jeep turning into the parking lot. She and Lydia both turned and watched as Scott pulled the jeep into a spot.

‘I wasn’t expecting Stiles to come back so soon.’ Lydia murmured, and Kira nodded in agreement.

‘Yeah, I mean he looked better when I saw him but – ’

‘You saw him?’ Lydia asked, and Kira turned to look at her.

‘Um, I mean yes, technically, but only because I went by Scott’s house to check on him and ask him how Stiles was and Stiles was there and heard me when I was telling Scott something my mum recommended for Stiles and he came out and said hello. So I only saw him for like, less than a minute.’ Lydia just stared at her, and Kira tried to hold eye contact before she broke and looked away. Coincidentally right back to where Scott was helping Stiles out of the jeep.

Kira watched as he pulled Stiles in close, saying something then giving the still too thin and pale boy a hug and a kiss on the head before he pulled back. He took Stiles’ hand in his, linking their fingers, then lifting them and placing a kiss on the back of Stiles’ hand, an action that had Stiles blushing and ducking his head.

‘Huh.’ Kira turned back to Lydia, who was also watching the two boys.

‘What?’

‘I didn’t think they’d work it out so soon.’ Lydia said, still watching.

‘What do you mean?’ She asked, looking back at the boys who were still standing by the jeep talking.

‘I always knew they’d be more than just friends. Well, I may have wavered in that belief just a little when Scott was with Allison, but I always thought there was more than just friendship there.’ She said, though it seemed she was talking more to herself. Then she seemed to realise who she was talking to, and turned to look at Kira, her eyes narrowing. ‘This isn’t going to be a problem, is it? Because I like you Kira, I do but these two – they’ve been through a lot, we all have, but they’ve been in it from the very start and they deserve some happiness, so – ’

‘Lydia! It’s fine. I already, kinda knew – I, when I went to Scott’s I… Scott told me. And I’ll tell you what I said to him – it makes sense. And I agree with you, they do deserve to be happy.’ She paused, looking at the banshee. ‘We all do.’

Lydia studied her, and Kira thought she was trying to detect any lies. She must have found her answer satisfactory, because she nodded, then smiled.

‘You’re right, we do. And we will be.’ Lydia told her, then turned away. Kira followed her line of sight, and saw Scott and Stiles were now heading in their direction. Scott still had a firm hold on Stiles’ hand as they approached the girls. And, like that first day she’d noticed them in history class, Stiles poked Scott, leaned in to whisper something to him that had Scott grinning with humour and Stiles smiling wide. Yes, she thought to herself. Scott and Stiles made sense.

#scilesweek #teen wolf events #teen wolf #sciles #scilesweek day 1 #pov outsider #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf fanfiction #sciles fanfiction #kira yukimura #lydia martin #allison argent #isaac lahey

27 notes · View notes

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Another One?!, Part 3

First > Previous > Next

Marinette took one long, deep breath.

“What the fuck, Adrien?”

Adrien gave an awkward smile that made her want to forgive him… but, no, she must stay strong.

“It’s a cool car!”

She clicked her tongue. “Yes. Yes it is. But none of us can drive.”

“We have to learn at some point, though. Dick is going to uni soon, and it’s not like we can homeschool him for that. And there is no way I’m going to let him take the bus.”

Marinette winced. Okay, fair point.

Adrien must have realized that he was convincing her, because he chose that moment to bring out the pout.

Kwami…

She clicked her tongue once to show she was still irritated but nodded that he could have it.

He grinned and turned to look over his shoulder. “Told you I could convince her.”

Dick popped out of the bushes with a whoop.

Betrayal.

“WHY THE HECK DID I GET THE FAST CAR --?!”

“WHY THE HELL ARE YOU ASKING ME --?!”

“STOP YELLING AT EACH OTHER AND WATCH THE ROAD --!”

“PULL OVER IT’S MY TURN TO LEARN TO DRIVE --!”

“WE’RE GONNA DIE WE’RE GONNA DIE WE’RE GONNA DIE --!”

Marinette glared at the three new driver’s licenses they had all somehow scammed their way into getting, then turned her gaze on Dick.

“I love you but if you flunk out first semester I will stab you.”

He smiled and wrapped his mom in a hug. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Bitch, try me.”

Dick wasn’t fazed, squeezing her tighter.

She huffed and reluctantly hugged back. “Okay, fine, maybe not, but I will not be happy.”

“I love youuuuuu.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

Adrien sighed as he looked at his kid’s grades so far. He’d been scared of this. College was a lot of adjustments already, and to add to that he was going straight from homeschool to normal classes and the school wasn’t giving him nearly as much help as it should.

Dick was stealing anxious looks at him out of the corner of his eyes, his legs drawn to his chest on the couch.

Adrien reached out and ruffled his hair gently. “It’s fine. We’ll get you a tutor, okay?”

He didn’t suggest changing majors. Dick wouldn’t do it if he did, though he wished he would. It’s law school. Everyone knows that you can’t have a life and still go to law school, jobs and stuff are supposed to be put on hold when you go and there was no way Dick was going to stop vigilantism anytime soon. But…

“Also, try playing a game on your computer or doodling while you’re listening to the lecture. That might help you stay focused.”

Dick nodded with a tired smile.

“And you’re going to have to cut down on vigilantism so you can do homework and go to classes. You don’t get to choose your own schedule anymore.”

“Nooooooo…”

Marinette yawned, rubbing her eyes. It had been a long day for her. She’d done patrols for a good fourteen hours, and then Nygma had decided to use that exact moment to pull a death trap out of nowhere.

So, when she’d finally finished everything for the day she was tired and soaking wet (because, for some reason, he thought it would be cool to see if she preferred death by electrocution or drowning). She’d called for her husband to come get her because it was winter and she wasn’t all that interested in walking through the snow in damp clothes.

Now she curled up in the car, getting the front seat and both her and Adrien’s jackets wet. She didn’t care as she pressed as close to the heater as she possibly could.

Adrien brought the car to a stop and looked over, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Do you want to wait in the car while I get him?”

She nodded, closing her eyes.

She felt a set of keys drop in her lap and pressed the lock button, sinking into the chair.

And then, a few minutes later, she heard something outside.

She peeked an eye open blearily and looked around, expecting to see Adrien and Dick drumming their fingers on the windows to be let in. A frown made its way across her face when she realized that they weren’t there.

She sat back up slowly and her eyes landed on a flash of red on the side opposite her.

She unlocked her door and poked her head out, carefully making her way around the car to investigate…

A person was trying to steal their hubcap.

She groaned softly and rubbed her eyes, then got into a fighting position.

The person looked up at the sound and she winced mentally when she saw they had a crowbar.

They shot to their feet and raised the weapon.

“Marinette?” Called Adrien.

She looked up on instinct, a bad idea when you’re fighting someone.

She took a crowbar to the stomach and groaned, doubling over. They leaned down to grab the hubcap and then attempted to make a break for it.

It didn’t work, obviously. Dick caught the person by their hoodie when they tried to rush past him.

They twisted in his grip and hit Dick in the side with their hubcap and, when he stumbled a bit in surprise, swept his legs out from under him.

Adrien scowled as he tackled the person to the ground. Then he stopped suddenly, his eyes going wide. “This is --!”

He never got to say what the person was, though, because they had socked him. The person had been wearing a lot of rings, so that hurt even more than it usually would. It was a wonder that Adrien didn’t black out or, at the very least, fall back to cradle his jaw.

The person must have been counting on this because they cursed and reached out to shove Adrien off of themself, but he caught their arms.

With a bit of awkward shuffling he had managed to pin them to the ground, arms tucked beneath him and legs swinging wildly in an attempt to keep Dick and Marinette back.

He needn’t have worried, both of them were pretty incapacitated. Getting hit with a metal instrument tends to do that to people.

Dick recovered first because his blow had been softer and to a less vulnerable part, and he crawled over to Marinette… who was currently listing off every swear that she could think of from her spot on the ground.

They leaned against each other for support and then lifted their shirts a little bit to check for blood. Thankfully, the things the person had used were blunt, so they would only have to worry about bruising...

Still hurt, though.

“— fucking asshole of a person I will fucking stab their cul stupide —!”

“Mari, stop cursing, it’s a kid,” hissed Adrien, who was now covering the kid in question’s ears.

“Oh really? Let’s see you get hit by a goddamn whatever-the-fuck-that’s-called --!”

The kid, who could apparently still hear despite her husband’s best efforts, supplied the name of the object he’d used: “Crowbar.”

“Oh, you absolute --!”

Dick covered her mouth so she could curse without the kid hearing it too clearly.

Eventually, she ran out of curses. Her shoulders slumped.

Adrien and Dick nodded to each other and removed their hands.

Adrien carefully clambered off the kid, though he made sure to hold onto their hands to make sure they wouldn’t a) attack again or b) just run off.

They looked him over and Marinette cringed. Definitely a street kid, if the ragged clothes and bruised skin was any indication.

“It wasn’t personal,” the kid said, looking between the three of them anxiously. He must have realized he wasn’t getting away, because he had stopped subtly struggling against Adrien’s grip. “I just needed money.”

Marinette nodded. “Sure. What foster or adoption system are you in? We can up donations.”

(She was still annoyed about the whole ‘hitting her with a crowbar’ thing, obviously, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to help out a bunch of kids in need.)

The kid’s eyes widened and then he gave a bitter laugh. “I’m not really in one, it’s safer on the streets.”

Adrien frowned. “Sorry? Why? Don’t you want a roof and food?”

They rolled their eyes. “Sure, I’d love that, but it doesn’t exactly happen.”

The three frowned at each other.

Adrien thought for a minute, then shrugged. “How about you stay with us?”

“Huh?” Said both Marinette and the kid.

“We have room and money, and Dick is probably going to leave soon anyways because of college. Why not stay with us?”

Dick hesitated. “I’m probably not leaving, actually, but you can stay if you want.”

Marinette and the kid looked met each other’s eyes and deemed themselves the only sane ones present, because honestly what the fuck?

But then the kid’s eyes strayed to the pearl necklace Adrien had gotten her the year before, to the car, to the designer bag Dick was carrying…

“I wouldn’t mind. What about you, mom?” He said, giving Marinette a cheeky grin.

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t get puppy-dog-eyed from all sides.

Could Adrien, just once, ask her before randomly adopting kids?

Well, she guessed she should just be glad he didn’t try and adopt the entire foster system. She should probably say yes before he actually tried...

“Fine. Fine. We’ll adopt another one.” She pursed her lips together and then gave her husband a pointed look. “No more after this, though, got it? We’re too old for this stuff.”

“We’re not that old!” Complained Adrien.

She clicked her tongue.

“Fine. I’m not that old.”

Marinette scoffed and threw the keys at him. He caught them without even blinking.

Dick smiled and opened the car door for the kid, who seemed more than a little hesitant to get in the car with strangers. Apparently curiosity won over self-preservation, though, because the kid did end up getting in the car.

“Right, what’s your name?”

“Jason…”

“Cool! I’m Dick, and these are my adoptive parents, Marinette and Adrien.”

“... is no one going to talk about why your mom is soaking wet?”

“Why our mom is soaking wet, you mean.”

Jason frowned. “Sure… why?”

“She fell in a well.”

Adrien nodded as he started to drive. Marinette groaned and sunk into the front seat again.

Jason, poor kid, just looked confused.

“How the fuck…?”

Adrien was well aware that Jason didn’t trust them.

Fair enough. How many other people see a random kid stealing their hubcaps and then say ‘yeah, screw it, I’ll adopt them’? He figured they must be the only ones.

The kid seemed genuinely surprised when they pulled up to their house. Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted to know where Jason thought they were taking him.

Marinette had taken a quick shower, changed into some warm clothes, grabbed a cup of coffee, and then took Jason out shopping. Dick rearranged his room to accommodate another person.

And Adrien…

Adrien glared down the kwamis.

“Alrighty. We made the mistake last time of not telling you not to show yourselves to Dick, because we thought that was implied. We’re not doing that again. You are not allowed to in any way help Jason find out that you exist or that we are Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Robin. Got it?”

He made sure to see every kwami nod that they understood and then gave them some leftover macaroons to eat.

Good. So that disaster would be averted.

He heard a loud “Oh! My word!” from the next room and sighed.

New disaster.

He ushered the kwamis back under the floorboards and then rushed over to Dick’s room.

He walked in to find him frantically scraping a part of the wall that had been previously hidden by his bed.

Adrien crossed his arms. “Hey, buddy, whatcha got there?”

Dick turned around slowly, eyes wide and full of panic. “Uh…” He leaned back as casually as he could (it did not look like a comfortable position at all but that’s not the point here) and flashed a brilliant smile. “Adrien… Dad… Dadrien... have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough. What did you do?”

“I…” He looked away. “... should probably get ahead of this. Don’t get mad, please?”

“We’ll see.”

Dick slowly scooted away from the spot and Adrien sighed deeply.

Because on the wall, in crayon, was a bunch of doodles.

But, upon closer inspection, he realized they were doodles of Chat Noir and Ladybug and a tiny little person with black hair.

Do not think it’s cute do not think it’s cute do not think it’s cute --.

He took a few deep breaths before turning to Dick. “Go get some cleaning stuff. We have a few hours before Mari gets back.”

He mumbled a thanks and then rushed out to go find cleaning supplies.

Adrien snapped a photo while he was gone.

Marinette and Jason were struggling.

It was hard to get this kid to buy anything at all, she had tried to get him just another hoodie and he had taken one look at the price tag before flinging it as far away from him as he possibly could.

Man, how was she supposed to get him a mattress if this was how he was going to react to a bunch of ten dollar hoodies?

She would have thrown her hands up in frustration if that wouldn’t have disturbed her coffee. “Fine. We won’t buy anything. Do you have anything we can bring?”

Jason hesitated, then shook his head.

Okay, an obvious lie but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. He was probably still wary of them and their kindness and wanted to keep that backup open. She understood.

Well, she didn’t understand because she’d never been in that kind of situation, but she would respect it.

“Fine. You’ll have to live with hand-me-downs. Are you alright with that?”

Jason relaxed a little, nodding.

She gave a tired smile.

She’d have to do something about Dick’s sleeping arrangements, she’d probably create a hammock or just let him sleep in their bed (it hardly ever got any use, anyways) for the time being. Eventually, Jason might warm up to them enough to let her buy him stuff, and she’d wait for that…

Or he’d run away. But, hopefully not that.

Jason ducked his head and pulled his hoodie up to hide his face and Marinette glanced around. People were staring at them. Fair enough, she doubted that the scruffy hoodie and weathered jeans were making people trust the kid. Still, she stepped towards him and gently grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie to say he was hers.

He cringed almost imperceptibly at her touch. She frowned a little bit, she knew all too well what that meant, but didn’t say anything.

She opted to just glare at the people giving them odd looks, daring any of them to say anything.

They didn’t. Good.

She looked down at the kid and tipped her head to the side.

“I’m going to just shop for the family and you can eat that stuff, okay?”

Jason still looked like he wasn’t happy with it but he nodded.

And, so, she took him to the grocery part of the store. She did what she said she would, shopping for things they would need over the week, but she also watched Jason carefully to see if he liked anything.

The kid clearly knew what she was doing, because he spent most of his time watching her with a neutral expression, but occasionally she’d catch his gaze lingering on a specific product for just a second too long and she’d drop it into the cart.

He couldn’t say anything. He had no proof that they never ate… whatever the hell a Chef Boyardee was.

She found he was mostly looking at cheap, instant meals but that was okay. He’d learn.

She was a baker’s daughter, after all. Everyone in her house would learn what good food was eventually or die by her hand.

Adrien fell back on the couch and groaned. “I have to homeschool another kid!”

“Sucks,” said Dick, who was applying a princess bandaid to a shallow cut on his cheek that he’d gotten that night (the goon who had missed had been pissed that their aim was off... but then pissed themself when the two older vigilantes advancing on him made him realize he had bigger problems).

“It does! I get one kid into college and then I suddenly get another kid to teach!”

Marinette sat on his stomach and he wheezed a little. She didn’t pay this any mind, though. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you adopted another one.”

“He said he felt safer on the streets than in a home! I couldn’t just not adopt him!”

She gave a noncommittal hum.

“Dick! Agree with me!”

The person in question just turned on the TV and started flipping through channels.

Adrien sighed. He was now talking to what may as well have been an empty room. He looked around for the kwamis but they were very determinedly avoiding eye contact while chowing down on their foods of choice. Still, he at least had one person-god-whatever that had to listen to him:

“Plagg.”

The cat kwami gave a long sigh before looking at him. “Adrien, please don’t make me give you my opinion on this. You’re not going to like it.”

He pouted. “Honestly, though, it’s messed up. Is the system really that bad?”

“Yep,” said Marinette.

“Mhmm,” said Dick.

“And aren’t either of you, I don’t know, concerned about it?”

“You guys already donate a bunch of money, what else can you do?”

Adrien frowned, reaching out and pulling his wife down to lay next to him so they both could be comfortable.

Marinette lifted her arms slightly so he could wrap his arms around her and nuzzled into him a little bit (Dick made a gagging noise in the background). “This isn’t really our type of thing, Chaton.”

He nodded reluctantly…

And then gasped.

“But what if it is!”

“What?” She said warily.

“I mean, we’re in Gotham. Everything is connected to crime here! What if the foster and adoption systems are messed up because the mob or something has something to do with it!”

“Did you stretch before that reach?” Asked Dick as he changed the channel.

Adrien huffed. “M’lady, c’mon, I make sense, right?”

She thought for a minute, and then closed her eyes. “Alright, Chaton, if you really want you can go investigate it. If it’s our kind of thing, then we fix it. Okay?”

He beamed.

Marinette was… tired.

So, when she walked into the kitchen and found Jason flinging cabinets open at random and Dick swinging from a ceiling light, she just continued on to the coffee machine.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE TRASHCAN?!”

“Language,” Dick murmured absently. He hooked his legs over the light fixture and lowered himself down to open the cabinet beside Marinette, revealing... the trash can.

Jason stared at the cabinet in shock. “But… I opened that one… I know I did…”

“You have to be upside down to access it,” said Dick seriously.

She started up the machine. “Sweetie, don’t tell him that. He’ll break his neck.”

Jason slowly discarded his plate in the trash can, eyes locked on it as if it would disappear if he didn’t keep it in his sight at all times. “Why don’t you just have the trash can out…?”

Dick grinned. “Rich people thing. Can’t let people know you live here.”

“What?”

All he got was two shrugs. They didn’t really understand it either, they just didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

“I hate rich people,” Jason decided eventually.

“Same.”

“Including you.”

“Same.”

Adrien had chosen that exact minute to walk in and was now looking on in horror as Marinette brought an entire coffee pot to her lips and Jason dragged the trash can out into a reasonable place and Dick attempted a trapeze act on the ceiling light.

“I…”

“Morning,” said Marinette, sending a wave.

Adrien looked at the three of them for a few moments before sighing and sitting on the counter.

“Morning.”

Listen, if nothing else, Adrien had faith (... in humanity, religious faith is kinda weird when you have a god living in your jewelry).

This faith had never done him any good but it was there.

So, he had to hope that the problems with the system were things that he could fix as Chat Noir. Otherwise, he’d have to just accept the fact that the system didn’t care about its kids. He couldn’t do that.

The world was evil... but surely it couldn’t be that evil.

Unfortunately for his dreams of fixing everything, he found out that he needed to go to university for at least four years in order to get in. He couldn’t wait that long! People were suffering now!

Good thing he was rich.

Listen, Gotham is messed up. He’s been doing his best to fix it but, dang it, if everyone else can exploit it then he can, too!

(But only to help people. His moral compass was a roulette wheel and using his money to benefit solely himself was one of the lines he wouldn’t cross.)

Dick gave him a jealous look as he held up his new, definitely legitimately earned degree.

And then Jason had stepped into the room and frowned confusedly.

“You’re a social worker?”

“Am now!” He chirped.

“New?”

“Yep! I’m hoping to make it better, if I can.”

Jason gave a tiny laugh. “Oh, so you’re NEW new.”

Well, that wasn’t encouraging.

That night, he managed to catch Marinette before she could head off for patrols. “Do you think what I’m doing is useless?”

“A little bit but…” She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I knew what I was getting into when I married you. I love you, Chaton.”

He frowned a little bit but returned the kiss and whispered his “I love you, too, M’lady.”

“Would you like me to drive you to work?”

He smiled and let her lead him along. That would be good. If he was driven to work then he could get someone to pick him up ‘late’ and give him time to snoop around.

Well, not today. The staff would know if it was his first day. He’d have to give it a month or so before he snooped. But it was good to start that kind of routine early.

When they pulled up to the orphanage, Marinette locked the doors before he could get out.

Crap.

He gave his wife a careful smile. “M’lady?”

“Listen to me: you are not allowed to adopt any of the kids.”

“But --.”

“Nope. No kids. We already have two when we said we were going to have zero. It has to stop.”

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “What if… what if they’re about to age out?”

Marinette paused. He could see the gears turning in her head as she bit her lip, considering it.

Then she shook her head. “If they’re about to age out you can give them money and support to start out. That’s. All.”

He pouted a little but accepted this answer. It would have to do.

He heard the doors unlock and stepped out. He looked up at the building and suppressed a cringe. It looked like the kind of orphanage that you see in movies that always have an evil director. This was a good thing for him as Chat Noir but a bad thing when you consider that there are actual kids living there.

Adrien stepped inside, all too aware of his nerves.

After all, he was technically unprepared. Did he know basic medicine? Was he good with kids? Did he know how to teach even kids with challenges? Yes to all of that. Still, he couldn’t help but worry that maybe the four years of college that were asked of him could have taught him something that he would need.

Relax, he told himself.

This did nothing, and really only served to make him more anxious, but hush.

He was given the day to tour the place, and he was originally disappointed. Surely, this couldn’t be it. All the beds were crammed in one room! Some of the beds didn’t even have fitted sheets!

But then his mind wandered to Jason. They never found him asleep in any of the beds, instead finding him passed out with a thin blanket in the corner or, at best, in an armchair. He hardly ever slept alone, either, usually opting to choose whatever room had two or more people in it to sleep.

He had to remind himself that these kids were likely on the streets for at least a few months of their lives, and likely would have adapted to that.

It didn’t make him feel any better, though.

Adrien didn't let any of this show on his face, instead smiling as he introduced himself to the kids he passed. A few gave wary looks, others gave awkward smiles, and some didn’t even seem to notice him.

He didn’t know what he was expecting. He was their new teacher, people usually aren’t all that eager to meet those.

He hoped he could help, though.

Marinette clicked her tongue when she found Jason reading in his current favorite hiding space: under Dick’s bed.

“Sweetie, you’re going to get squished under there.”

He didn’t answer, probably because there was a flashlight in his mouth.

She leaned down to see if she could figure out a way that he could stay down there without getting hurt and scrunched up her nose at a smell.

“Is there… are you keeping food down there?”

Jason finally looked at her, his eyes wide. He quickly moved in front of the stash so she couldn’t get to it and pulled the flashlight from his mouth to speak: “It’s mine.”

“It’s spoiled,” she said, shaking her head. “You can hoard food if that makes you happy but at least make sure it’s something that won’t go bad, please. How about cereal -- no, actually, the kid would kill me if I gave you that… what about nutrition bars?”

“Those aren’t actually that healthy, you know.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “You’re right, they’re not, but they don’t spoil quickly and they have at least some kind of nutritional value.”

He hesitated, then reluctantly pushed the stash of food in her direction. She sifted through it to pull out any food that was still good, and then handed that over.

He looked at the tinier pile and then gave her a tiny smile.

“Thank you.”

She nodded. “I’ll go out and get some nutrition bars.”

His eyes widened. “You don’t have --.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was already going to start buying them to try and wean your brother off of cereal. This is just an added bonus,” she lied so he wouldn’t feel guilty about using her money.

He looked reluctant but still nodded.

She beamed and stood again, the spoiled food in her arms.

She yelled to Dick that Jason was under his bed again so he needed to be careful, then put a sticky note on his bed and door so he’d remember, then tossed the food.

And then she started towards the store.

Teaching all day and then coming home to teach another kid was… something.

Good thing Adrien had the patience of a saint from years of schooling Dick.

Jason groaned and fell back on the couch, covering his face with the textbook. “This is soooooo boring. I already know this stuff!”

“The test you took says differently,” said Adrien as he closed his copy.

All he got was another groan.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever. He was exhausted. He’d take the night off. “Alright, fine, you’re bored. What do you want to do?”

Jason lifted the book from his face so he could send his dad a confused look.

“You have to enjoy something. Y’know, a hobby or something?”

Jason’s face reddened a little and he nodded, toying with some of the rings on his fingers. “I have one... but you can’t laugh if I tell you.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He mumbled something that she couldn’t make out, and Adrien frowned. “Sorry?”

He took a deep breath and then whispered his answer: “Iliketoread.”

It took a moment for his brain to catch up, and then he felt a wide smile stretch across his face. A kid? That reads?

He pushed himself up to his feet.

“I have a library card that’s been gathering dust for the past few years. C’mon.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “It’s been gathering dust? Why?”

“Uh… let’s just say I’ve been kind of busy with other things.”

“That sucks.”

He considered this, his head tipping to the side, then he nodded. “It does. I should read more.”

“You should.”

Adrien laughed a little. “Have any suggestions?”

Jason’s eyes lit up.

Marinette hummed absently as she stepped into the kitchen and then frowned as her eyes flicked between Dick and Jason, who were looking very intensely at a plate.

She stepped closer and rolled her eyes. It seemed they were dividing up the last cookie from her baking session last night.

Was she concerned that they had managed to eat all the cookies in the few hours since she had finished them? A little. But not that concerned. At least she knew they were getting calories.

But now she was just amused. Because they were using a ruler and a pencil and paper to figure out what exactly half was.

Dick seemed to finish his math first, because he picked up a knife and positioned it over the cookie.

“Careful!” Said Jason.

Marinette snickered. “Boys, I may have a solution for you.”

They looked up with confused expressions.

“I can… you know I can just make more, right?”

Jason looked like he was going to protest... but then Dick swiped the cookie and stuffed it into his mouth. He watched on in horror for a few moments before his face hardened.

“You live up to your name, Dickwad.”

Dick gasped. “Rude!”

“Oh, so I’m rude? You want to know what’s actually rude? It’s --.”

Marinette grinned as she sipped at her coffee. She’d intervene if things went too far but, for the time being, she was perfectly fine just watching.

Jason’s eyes found her and he brought a cheeky grin to his face. “Hey, mom, if you’re going to make cookies then Dickwad can’t have any, right?”

“What? No! Mari -- Mom -- Mominette!”

“Mom!”

She tried not to laugh at the chorus of ‘Mom’s as she started pulling down ingredients.

After a month and a half of gaining the trust of the orphanage staff and kids, he managed to sneak into the director’s room and look through the financial records.

He snapped pictures of every page and then slipped out through the window.

When he got home he pulled the pictures up on a bigger monitor and started looking over them with Dick and Marinette at his side.

The longer he looked the more he frowned.

“It’s not an evil plot. I don’t know what to do when it’s not an evil plot,” he said eventually.

Marinette rested her head on his shoulder. “Of course it’s not. Even if criminals benefit from the system being broken, they don’t need to do anything to keep it that way. Even good cities have terrible adoption and foster systems.”

“There has to be something we can do!”

She and Dick exchanged exhausted looks.

“There has to be something we can do.” He repeated, frowning. “We’re rich!”

“We don’t have enough to beat out a mob boss in political donations, Chaton, much less a bunch of them.”

He sighed.

Marinette slipped her hand into his and was silent for a while, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. She squeezed a little tighter and he looked over with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, speaking of mob bosses, the kid and I have been closing in on one’s location. You want in? You always like beating them up...”

“I guess it has been a while since we’ve done that…”

They had been about two seconds away from just pushing the emotions down like they usually did, but then Dick had gasped and pushed himself to his feet.

“We can’t fix homes, but we can always make things easier when they leave.”

“We already agreed to give them money when they age out, sweetie.”

“Nonononono not like that!” Dick was pacing, now. “You guys know a lot of people, right?”

“I do…” said Adrien carefully.

“Then use that! Help them get into the fields they want to get into.”

“That’s…” Adrien pulled out his phone to translate the word to English. “... nepotism.”

Marinette shrugged absently. “We kill people, Chaton, this is hardly the place to draw the line. I can probably get them into the designing world if I wanted.”

“I could do circuses or law.”

Adrien sighed and closed his eyes. He figured he should just be glad that they were trying to help.

“... I can get modelling and any other field that I know someone in… I’d need to make some calls...”

The happiness that came along with finding a solution, weak as it was, lasted about a month.

Marinette smiled and wiped some blood from her husband’s cheek so she could give him a kiss.

“Feel better?”

“A little,” he admitted.

She smiled and tipped her head back to look at Dick, who was tying up the last of the henchmen. “You’ve had faster times, sweetie.”

“I would’ve gone faster if you were helping instead of ‘french kissing’ over here.”

“We weren’t --!” She clicked her tongue when both of the guys started laughing. “You’re hilarious. C’mon, we need to get out before the cops get here.”

They slipped out into the streets as sirens blared in the distance and detransformed.

Marinette hummed lightly as they made their way through back alleys. After all, their detransformations only got rid of the suits, not the blood… it would look a little weird if three people covered in blood were just walking through the streets.

Adrien opened the door for them, and she stepped inside…

Only to go pale.

Because Jason was up, watching a show. He had probably woken up and decided to wait until people were back to sleep. The three vigilantes went completely still, save for the quiet squeak of surprise that left Dick’s lips.

Jason looked over and his eyes widened.

“Uh… we can explain?” Said Marinette.

He screamed and scrambled off the couch as quickly as possible and made a mad dash for the kitchen.

The three vigilantes looked at each other, then followed after him.

Her eyes searched the kitchen and found him hidden under a table...

Oh. He had a knife. Fun.

Adrien pushed Dick behind them.

She held up her hands placatingly. “Sweetie…”

“NO! WHAT THE FUCK?! NO! I KNEW YOU GUYS WERE TOO NICE TO BE TRUE BUT WHAT?! THE FUCK?! MURDERERS?! COME ON!”

Adrien sighed. “I… we aren’t… well… we kind of are… but...”

“Not helping,” Dick muttered.

Marinette bit her lip as she considered what to do to make Jason relax, then groaned. “Tikki. Spots on.”

Somehow, Jason’s eyes went wider when she transformed.

“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU GUYS ARE VIGILANTES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

Adrien sighed.

The other two transformed as well.

Jason had gone into shock…

Progress?

They detransformed now that they had shown him the truth.

“Now that you know that we won’t hurt you, can you… put the knife down? Please? That’s the good knife and --?” She felt the glares of the other two vigilantes on the back of her head and winced. “Okay, maybe not the most important reason why... knives are sharp. We don’t like sharp things. They hurt.”

The kid did, in fact, put down the knife. This was probably just because he was stunned and on autopilot but at least he was no longer armed.

Marinette carefully walked over and picked it up off the ground. A pout made its way onto her face as she looked at the blade. It had scratches on it…

She saw Adrien’s disapproving look and huffed, tossing it into the sink a few feet away and then turning to the kid next to her.

“This wasn’t how we wanted you to find out…”

The boys made their way over as well and they all sat in a wide circle around the kid. They didn’t want him to feel alone but they also didn’t want to crowd him.

“We didn’t really want you to know at all, we just wanted to be a stable family for you,” explained Adrien.

Jason was emerging from his shock slowly, his breathing was picking up.

Marinette peeled her jacket off and draped it over his shoulders gently.

“We promise we won't force you to be a vigilante. In fact, we’d probably feel better if you weren’t one. You’re a kid,” said Adrien.

“But,” added Dick. His parents glared at him but he continued anyways: “If you want, then we won’t stop you. You’re old enough by our family standards, so we can’t really stop you if you want to. Just tell us and we’ll get you a miraculous that suits you and some training.”

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

Dick gave her a bit of side-eye. “What? It’s not like we would be able to stop him if he wanted to be a vigilante. I’d prefer that he at least be safe… -ish.”

Jason curled up in the jacket and closed his eyes. “Can I have some time to think about it? About… everything?”

“Of course, sweetie.” Marinette scooted away a little so he could get past her and he rushed out.

The three watched him go in silence. They heard the front door slam behind him.

She closed her eyes. “Sweetie, go after him? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt.”

Dick gave a quiet “Okay” and transformed. With a shrill note, he was gone.

Adrien and Marinette were left alone.

She felt him crawl over to her and pull her into him.

“He’ll be okay,” said Adrien softly.

She bit her lip and then buried her face in his shoulder.

Over the next few weeks they heard people in the house.

He made sure to never acknowledge it. It could be Dick coming back for food or to grab some homework to do while watching over his brother, or it could be Jason.

He always hoped it would be Jason… but now that it actually was he felt a surge of anxiety.

Firstly, Marinette wasn’t home. Nygma had just announced his most recent death trap to the city and she’d had to rush out to deal with it.

Secondly, Dick had a class at the moment.

Thirdly, Adrien was just really tired. He’d spent the entire day teaching, of course he was tired. He wouldn’t be at the top of his game.

This was probably an intentional move on Jason’s part. It was a good idea to take precautions, Adrien would have been proud if he wasn’t so nervous.

He looked up from his spot on the couch and gave a careful smile. “Hey, Jay.”

Jason hesitated and then disappeared to the kitchen. He came back with a knife.

Ah. Great.

Adrien knew he could beat a child with a knife, that didn’t mean he wanted to.

Jason sat on the couch opposite Adrien and pointed his knife at him. “I want to ask some questions.”

“Of course. Anything.”

He nodded and lowered his knife ever so slightly. “Okay… why did you adopt me?”

Adrien frowned a little bit. “You were a kid that was so desperate for money that you were stealing a bunch of rich people’s hubcaps. I couldn’t not adopt you.”

“There’s a lot of people like that. Why me? I attacked you. There had to be better, safer options.”

“I…” His frown deepened. This was true. Why had he felt so drawn to Jason in particular? “I guess it could have been Marinette’s luck? One of her side-effects is that she has really good luck. I wouldn’t be surprised if we adopted the exact kid that was perfect for our family.”

Jason nodded a little bit, though he looked skeptical.

Fair enough. Adrien was also a little skeptical of his answer. He had a theory about what was going on but it wasn’t like he’d ever be able to prove it.

“Next question: what did Dick mean when he said that I was old enough to be a vigilante ‘by your standards’?”

Adrien winced a little bit. “You said you’re about thirteen, right? Well, Dick and I started at twelve and Mari started at thirteen.”

Jason gave him an incredulous look, then apparently got over it. “Oh. Okay. And… why did you start doing this?”

“Uh… odd question…” He pursed his lips. “It’s hard to explain. I… had an image to keep up and Chat Noir was -- still is, actually -- my outlet for me to be myself in public. Mari, I think, was more or less thrown into the life and then, when she finally had an out, couldn’t imagine herself without it. Dick wanted to get revenge on the person who got his parents killed and then decided to keep going.”

He frowned. “You make it sound addictive.”

“Oh, yeah, it definitely is.” Adrien sighed. “There’s a lot of reasons why we didn’t tell you but that was one of them. When you start you don’t stop. We made that mistake with Dick, we’re hoping that you’ll not do it.”

Jason set the knife down, finally. “But you wouldn’t stop me if I still wanted to?”

He winced. “No. If you wanted to then we’d give you a miraculous -- powers -- and you’d get to go out and fight crime.”

“You trust me?” He said with a laugh.

“Should I not?”

He rolled his eyes. “I grew up on the streets. Most people don’t.”

“Jay, no offense but I’m not scared of you. You could have stolen from us or attempted to hurt us at any point over the last few months and you didn’t.”

“You’re vigilantes! It’s not like I could have done any of that!”

He shrugged and stretched out lazily. “You’re right, you wouldn't have succeeded. But you didn’t know that. You thought we were just some really trusting rich people.”

Jason considered this with a frown, and then he looked at Adrien. “I want to be a vigilante.”

He groaned a little bit but nodded. “Fine. Take off your -- Mari’s -- whatever -- THE jacket and the hoodie for a minute so I can see who should train you?”

The kid looked a little uncomfortable but he did comply.

Adrien frowned at all the tiny scars but didn’t say anything as he carefully examined his build. Definitely closer to him than Marinette or Dick.

He would take up the physical aspect of training, then.

“Right, how much do you know about self-defense?”

The four of them sat on the floor, sifting through the different miraculi for ones that could protect Jason in battle.

Marinette hummed to herself as she sifted through her pile.

After a minute, Dick held up the turtle miraculous. “This one can keep him safe -- wait a minute, why didn’t I get this one?”

“Didn’t match your fighting style or personality,” said Adrien absently, his head tipping from side to side as he considered the miraculous.

“If we want to give him that one then he’s going to need a different weapon. What would you like, sweetie?”

Jason thought for a minute, staring at Wayzz.

Then his eyes lit up. “Can I have a gun?”

“I…” Began Marinette, then she shrugged. “Actually, we could probably use another long-distance fighter on the team.”

“And it keeps him a pretty safe distance away from the fighting…” Agreed Adrien.

Dick hesitated. “But guns are pretty lethal. He isn’t an adult.”

“Damn, that really is going to come back to bite me, huh?”

Jason frowned. “What? What’s going on?”

“Basically, we have a rule that says kids aren’t allowed to kill,” said Adrien, sending his wife a tired glare.

She gave him a tense smile in return. “Killing people messes you up, so we’re trying to keep you guys away from it.”

Jason hesitated a little bit. “I’ve kinda… already…”

The three others’ eyes widened and they gave each other nervous glances. Jason couldn’t seem to finish, and they didn’t ask him to. They could guess what he was trying to get at.

And they didn’t know how to respond. Their problem had been with introducing kids to murder, because they knew that it was something you never really came back from… but he’d already done it...

They figured that, from the way he said it, he had probably had no choice in the matter and was regretting doing it…

“I guess… we let him kill if he wants?” Said Adrien slowly.

Dick scratched his head. “I guess?”

The three of them shrugged at each other. It was probably -- no, definitely -- not the right decision but they really didn’t know what to do.

“I think he’d look cute with pistols,” said Marinette after a few minutes of silence.

Adrien, who was the only other person who had seen the turtle miraculous’s suit, nodded his agreement.

Jason transformed for the first time.

Dick nodded as well. “Pistols would be cute.”

Adrien smiled as he watched Jason mess around with his new powers.

There wasn’t much to them. They created a force field around an item or person of your choosing that held for as long as you stayed awake…

Still, he was proud of him. Baby’s first powers and all.

The three older vigilantes were casually throwing things and hitting the forcefield in an attempt to break it, and Jason was holding up surprisingly well.

“So, what’re you going to call yourself?” Adrien asked as he drummed his staff on it.

Jason thought for a minute and then smiled. “How about… Green Helmet?”

Marinette hit the force field too hard and the cane came back to hit her in the head, which could not be helping her growing headache.

She pursed her lips tightly as she lowered herself down into a chair. “You… you have a hood.”

“I disagree.”

“You can’t -- I’m literally a designer! My word is law! That’s a hood!”

“Nope.”

“Chaton! Tell him that’s a hood!”

Adrien sighed. “It’s a hood,” he agreed.

Everyone looked at Dick, who was beginning to look like he’d rather be anywhere else. He eyed the door out of the corner of his eyes as if wondering whether he could get away before they caught him.

He must have come to the conclusion that he couldn’t get there in time, because he gave his answer:

“It… could be a helmet if he wants it to be…”

Adrien rolled his eyes as the family erupted into an argument over what constitutes a hood versus what constitutes a helmet.

Marinette hummed lightly as she made brownies (she had faith, okay? No one was helping this time so it should work). Jason was sitting in a chair nearby, head resting on the back of it as he watched her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” She asked. It was normal for Jason to watch her cook, he liked to keep his eye on food when he could, but he seemed almost… anxious. She could hear the gentle clinking of his rings as he messed with them.

“I… I want to buy something,” he said.

She dropped her bag of sugar into the bowl and hissed a string of curses as she looked at the now definitely ruined batter. Sure, she could technically go through and try to fix the ratios by adding more of everything else, but that would make enough brownies to feed a whole army --.

Wait a minute, what had he said?

Her eyes flicked to Jason. “Sorry? You want to buy something?”

He nodded with a tiny smile. “It’s a little expensive, I’m sorry, but… could we?”

Marinette was willing to buy a car if this kid asked, because he was ASKING HER TO BUY SOMETHING OH MY GOD, but she played it cool with a tiny nod.

“Sure, sweetie, let me just see how much it costs.”

He pulled up a picture on his phone and showed it to her.

It was a hardcover copy of an illustrated version of a book he liked. For forty dollars.

Okay, so he wasn’t asking for much, but it was still something! An improvement!

She smiled. “Sure, sweetie, I’ll get it next time I head out, okay?”

Jason beamed.

Adrien rolled his eyes when Dick flung himself across the couch dramatically.

“This isn’t faaaaiiiiir,” he whined.

He looked at his wife pleadingly and she clicked her tongue before lifting Dick’s head so she could sit down. She ran her fingers through her kid’s hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“He already knew a bit of self-defense when we met him so that was fine and we even gave extra time on training in his powers and with guns. We literally have no excuses for bringing him on at this point.”

“But I had to train for three years! He only had to do one!”

Jason grinned. “Maybe I’m just better.”

“Jay,” said Adrien exhaustedly.

“Or the favorite,” he added, his grin somehow growing.

“Jay!”

It was a good thing that Marinette had had a hold on Dick, because if she hadn’t he probably would have launched himself at his brother.

“You weren’t of age, he is,” she reminded him. “If you’d been old enough a year in then we would have let you do crime fighting, too.”

This was a lie, Dick had not been at all prepared after a year of training, but it made the kid smile so at least that was good.

Adrien stretched out from his spot in the window. “Right, we let Dick choose his first mission, what do you want to do first?”

Jason broke into a wide grin.

“There were some people who gave all the homeless kids trouble…”

They’d tracked the gang’s activities to a warehouse and had filed inside.

Adrien had helped Marinette carry their kids to the trusses above them (neither of their weapons had an easy way up, though they made mental notes to get them some kind of… grappling hook, maybe? It was a work in progress idea).

Dick shrouded them in shadows and muted the squeaking of their boots on the metal as they slowly made their way to the gang.

Adrien stretched his shoulders a little bit and then dangled his legs over to prepare himself for the jump down. Marinette and Dick copied his stance.

They looked at Jason, who gulped a little before copying the stance.

They hopped down as a family…

Because nothing says family bonding like murdering a bunch of gang members.

“Hey?”

Adrien looked up and frowned, alarm bells ringing in his ears. Jason was shuffling from foot to foot anxiously from his spot in the doorway. An anxious kid? This couldn’t be good...

“Yes, Jay?”

Jason messed with his rings.

“Since I’m going to be… here for a while, can we take the car to pick up my stuff?”

Adrien would have pinched himself to check if this was a dream if any of his dreams were ever this nice.

He dropped the book he was reading onto the bed and pushed himself up. “I -- wow! Okay! Of course!”

Jason gave an awkward smile.

Adrien tried not to smile too much as he followed the kid’s directions.

Mainly because this might dredge up bad memories for Jason, and he didn’t want to be too caught up in his euphoria of the kid genuinely accepting being part of the family to notice that he was shutting down.

But, to his surprise, Jason actually seemed just as excited.

They pulled up to a mostly abandoned looking greenhouse and Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly.

“What? I could grow myself food! It was good,” Jason defended himself.

He gave a smile, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, I was just trying to imagine you eating vegetables.”

Jason huffed a little bit and then held up a hand for Adrien to wait. He crouched down and then, after a bit of pushing, popped a pane of glass out of place. He set it down and then crawled through.

There was a bit of rustling inside and then the door swung open.

“Behold! My humble abode!”

Adrien raised his eyebrows as he stepped inside. ‘Humble’ was definitely the word for it…

His eyes scanned around and he had to hold back a frown at how little Jason had. There were a few plants. A bunch of vines and leaves had been piled together to make a makeshift ‘bed’ with a few blankets thrown overtop. A few random clothes were strewn about, all in varying states of shabbiness.

(There was also a bucket in the corner. Adrien was deciding to believe that it was for washing clothes.)

The only thing that Jason had really ‘had’ was the entire nook dedicated to books.

Adrien and Jason grabbed everything of importance to him and put it in the back of the car.

And then they started on their way home.

~~~

Taglist

@i-am-ironic @nathleigh @mialuvscats @golden-promises @sassakitty @deathwishy @toodaloo-kangaroo @ladythugs @moonlightstar64

#maribat #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #chat noir #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin

81 notes · View notes

echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Chapter 42

THE ROAD SO FAR

This chapter was a mess. But it's my mess.

FOUR weeks of Silence

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Veteran's Village

A peaceful Sunday meant that Roach, Alex and Soap were chilling at the house Samantha and Maxine were in. It had been 4 weeks since that Cuban incident and Francine had gone to therapy for her near death traumatic experience. If it wasn't for Soap, she would've been left out there for good.

France thought that it would be healthy to stay in a more domestic setup rather than the base so she took her time off duty to recover in the veteran's village. And ever since that day in Cuba, Soap and France's relationship was more expressive than ever.

"If we're having a barbecue tonight, we better head off to the meat shop." Alex peeked by the door, giving a heads up to the rest of the people sitting on the couch. Soap turned his head to Alex and tossed his keys as Roach stood up and came with Alex.

"Any other requests?" He looked at the group then to Maxine, who shook her head and laughed.

"Just be back safe." She replied.

"Got it." Gary nodded and waved goodbye at them. Soap wanted to come along but France had been falling asleep on his lap for quite a while. And Maxine and Samantha noted that she hadn't had decent for days.

"Oh, Roach! Grab me a cigar maybe." He whispered, trying not to wake France up.

"Roger that." He nodded and made his way to Soap's jeep, where Alex was already waiting on him. He sat himself on shotgun and let Alex lead the way to their destination.

He turned on the radio as it played a song about driving. Roach was quick to shazam it and found out it was Automobile by KALEO.

"Now this is going to be on my playlist." Alex said as his head nodded to the music, taking him where the winds take him, far away.

"Agreed. Oh, Soap actually asked for cigarettes so we might have to stop by a convenience store on the way back." Roach informed as the song ended.

"Okay. That's cool. Maybe add a few sodas for the girls. They probably haven't had those i ages." He said as he turned the radio off and switched it to AUX.

"Here. Grab my phone and play that song again." Alex instructed as he drove through the streets, and Roach followed him. Playing the song again.

"Ah yes. This song is good." Alex sighed.

"Yeah. It's fire." Roach commented, making Alex raise an eyebrow.

"You know, fire… lit… slaps… Modern terminologies." Roach explained shyly as Alex chuckled.

"I'll never understand the young ones of today." Alex chuckled as he stopped by the parking lot, pulling his phone and leaving the car.

Dinner was the best part of the Sunday evening as the three couples enjoyed a hearty meal together, sharing experiences and funny stories like an extended family. Roach talked about his raccoon story once again as one topic led to another until such time that the inevitable topic was discussed.

"Speaking of fires, do you have any leads on Nero?" Samantha asked innocently as the men fell quiet, looking at each other. Wondering who would open up the topic.

"Well, uh… After his assault in New York…" Soap trailed off, his eyes went to Alex, signaling him to continue.

"Alex, it's your girl's question! Go answer it!" Soap complained as France laughed, wrapping her arms around Soap.

"He's gone silent." Alex muttered. Samantha was kinda sad she asked about it so she tried to make up by brightening up the mood.

The night continued on as the group played charades, girls vs boys. For an hour or so the soldiers forgot about their worries and acted like they're normal people living their normal lives outside work. It wouldn't hurt to pretend like that, especially when the baggage of guilt was hard to handle.

"So, Gary. I've been meaning to ask you something…" Maxine said as she assisted him in the kitchen.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"How are you… like mentally. You seem… off." She asked, Gary sighed and eased his shoulders.

"It's just… we almost lost a life back there… for nothing. Lannister hasn't said any useful information and as the days go by another assault might occur." he breathed out his worries, earning a back rub from Maxine.

"People have their limits. Lannister could break anytime. Let's just hope we're not too late." She assured him. It was a very negative statement but somehow it's actually helpful. Gary smiled and gave her a hug.

"Thanks Maxine." he said.

"Yeah. Don't ever think you're alone. I'm here for you. Actually, just last night. I had another memory restored. And it felt so important that you have to know it first. Before…" she said, her voice lowering down after every word.

"Before what?" Gary whispered jokingly. Maxine laughed and hit his chest gently.

"Nevermind that word. Back to my memory…

I…" she trailed off, looking like she was too shy and scared to finish the statement.

"You…?" Gary raised an eyebrow. Maxine took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"I had an ex-girlfriend." She blurted and paused right after saying it, bracing at what Gary's reaction.

"I- uh.. That's okay… There's nothing wrong with that, Maxine." He said like he meant it. Maxine was too shocked about his reaction. Maybe she thought about it too much.

"Like… does that change anything?" She asked.

"Nothing at all. Oh wait! Yes! It does." Gary announced and Maxine's smile almost dropped.

"It means that if I want to have you, I'll have to step up my game. I have more competition now." He realized and Maxime sighed in relief. This man was about to get some scolding.

"You worried me, you know!" He continued gently hitting on Gary's chest, giggling away all her fears. He still accepted her. This was great.

"My point's valid!" He laughed, defending himself from her hits,.like children playing house. This may seem like a simple event, but this was the beginning of something new for the two of them.

Task Force 141 Base - Interrogation Room

Price sat in front of Gabriel, they've been silent for about an hour now as Gary and Soap stayed on the viewing area to observe the interrogation. Alex was here thirty minutes ago but he left after he got a phone call.

"What kind of twisted play is this?" Soap asked, crossing his arms and looking at Gabriel.

"The bastard won't talk. Just cut off a finger or something." He scoffed. To Gary, it would make sense, but with all the cameras and the formalities, It wasn't allowed. Especially that Gabriel's alibi was that he got their first to investigate. Which was total bullshit.

"He still has his ace on his sleeve. As long as we don't find proof of involvement, he's going to be free soon." Gary commented, making Soap grumble some Scottish curses.

"It's pretty obvious!" Soap yelled as Alex entered the interrogation room, saying something to Price as they immediately left him alone. Whatever that message was, looked way more important than Gabriel.

"We've got a lead on Nero!" Alex said as he peeked on the door, making the two stand up immediately and head to the briefing room.

"Operation Eye of the Storm." Price announced.

"In 24 hours, Nero and his newfound friends will meet on a hotel in Prague. This intel was from one of the Resistance Leaders Alex once teamed up with. They reached out for help since Nero started to secure the whole city." Price paced back and forth on the big screen.

"The plan is to eliminate Nero and his allies. As simple as that. We have the element of surprise in our hands. Soap, I want you to position yourself on the clock tower, just by the hotel. A bullet to the head should work. Alex will be watching your six. Jack will be our eyes and ears inside the convention. He'll be signaling when they'll be out on the open. Roach and I will enter the building for cleanup. We only had one shot at this so let's make it count." Price briefed and everyone else murmured their thoughts, some were already thanking for a solid lead. This was it. The final showdown. The end of the war.

PRAGUE, CZECH REPUBLIC

Alex and Soap already left the resistance safehouse, they had to be at the clock tower tonight, using the concealment of the night and the noise of the rain for cover. The perfect opportunity to say under the radar. Meanwhile, Roach and Price stayed to defend the place as Nero's men once again ransacked the streets just to ensure his safety. The world may have announced that the war in US was over, but Nero still had some cities under his control. This minor setback was the reason he's planning for something new. And they're here to stop it.

"Alright, Roach. Your replacements here." Price said as he stood up from his spot.

"Get ready for the big day tomorrow." He added as he nodded and left his gun for the next person to use. Tomorrow's battle is going to be tough, and even though he didn't want to admit it, Roach needed some rest.

Despite the occasional gunfire and screaming, Roach was able to sleep. He didn't mind the battle outside the building as his battle was with Nero. Once Soap shot him dead, he would also want to shoot him again, just to feel satisfied.

0639H

Hotel Lustig

Prague, Czech Republic

Roach hid on the west wing of the hotel, while Price was on the other side. They were both clinging on to the walls as their entrance was at the small opening where Soap would shoot Nero. Roach eyed the convoy just below him.

"Convoy's up ahead. Nero should be in one of those cars." Soap muttered.

"Can't see shit through the lens. He could be anywhere." Alex added.

"Easy lads. We'll have a clear shot once they're in the balcony. Right Jack?" Price asked. Jack didn't respond, but maybe the signal inside was too weak.

"Jack? Do you copy?" Price asked.

"Da. I do copy, Captain Price. I'm just here to get my old prisoner back. I've had him in the gulag for quite a while but it seems this is our first time meeting face to face." A russian voice which everyone assumed to be Nero said in the most villainous tone possible.

"You're too predictable, Captain." he said as he clicked something, prompting an explosion on the clock tower.

"Get down! C4!" Price yelled as the two soldiers jump out, falling on to railings. Alex landed on a fruit cart by the tower while Soap landed on the car, crashing it as it alarmed.

"Roach! Go help them out!" Price ordered as Nero's men started to circle around the two while the resistance team helped them defend.

Roach quickly pulled Soap up who was groaning in pain. Alex looked pained too but the look in their eyes says that they're still willing to end this today.

"Let's catch up with them." Alex said as a resistance member tossed them a rifle and quickly hid for cover, pushing their way into the hotel. At the corner of Roach's eye, he saw Price enter the building, loading his gun and ready to end this as well.

Next Chapter : THREE Bullets

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1

#alex echo 3 1 #john soap mactavish #horrayfic #john price #gary roach sanderson #whateverittakes

15 notes · View notes

writefinch · 4 years

Text

Family-Owned Small Business

(CN: incest, sex work, mentions of sexual assault & suicidal ideation)

The worst part of my job is administration. Last-minute rescheduling when a client flakes on us. Chasing up payments. Booking accommodation at short notice. Answering messages! Jesus, every time in the last year when I've slumped, sighed, and thought to myself "fuck working, I need a break from all this" it's been when I've opened my messages and seen thirty different texts that need a reply. Some people are fine with it I guess, but for me it's boring, time consuming, and stressful.

Big deal though, right, I mean nobody loves doing admin, why even bring it up? Well, if I tell someone that for work last night I ate a client's cum out of my mom's pussy, I'd expect that they'd get fixated on the sex work and the incest. I'd expect them to freak out and not pay attention to the specifics of what I'm saying. So, first, I'd like that person to know that the thing I hate about my job is probably the same thing that *they* hate about *their* job. I would rather lick my mom's asshole for five minutes than answer emails for five minutes, and I answer a lot of emails.

Do we have to worry about violence, danger, cops, and legal trouble? Yeah, we do. Am I scared of these things? Yeah, sometimes, but I had to worry about all of those things before I started doing sex work. At least now we've got the money to buy our way out of the worst of it.

I'm not saying that what I do with mom is an objectively healthy relationship, let alone a perfect one. If you took me back in time and told me I could pick a completely different life for me and my mom, I'm sure there's a bunch of choices I'd pick over this one. But I never had that choice. I got hurt a lot growing up. I feel like I've finally escaped the things that hurt me, but I know that I've barely started to recover from them.

That's why I'm writing this. We've saved enough money to afford some therapy and my first session is next week. I want help with the fear, the nightmares, the mood swings and insomnia, I want to stop the rush of rage and terror that flows through me every time I see the word 'dad,' I want help untangling the stuff that came out of being told I was a pansy when I was growing up, then figuring out I'm gay, then figuring out I'm a girl, then figuring out I'm all three of those things while I was living in a place that kept trying to kill me for it. What I don't want is for the psych to pin it all on the two least harmful and least fucked-up things about my life, and worse, I don't want them to make me believe it. This journal is a prophylactic, an assessment of my job, my relationships and my life that I can refer back to if and when someone sticks their fingers in my brain and swirls them around.

I'll start with a problem statement: my dad. The memories that hurt the most are the ones where he almost appeared human, the flickers of joy, curiosity and humor that stood out from the bland cruelty that made up the rest of his personality. I'll remember him buying me ice cream or talking about a book or a movie with me, I'll doubt myself and wonder if I just went crazy and cut him out of my life for no reason, and then my brain will hook onto a random act of sadism he inflicted on me.

The physical abuse was bad all on its own, real psycho shit like driving me out into the woods and making me pick through the brush for a switch he could hit me with and a whole lot more I won't go into, but the emotional abuse was worse. When I was eleven, I forgot to feed my cat one day. He gave her away to my uncle, but told me that she'd developed malnutrition and had to be put down. I didn't find out the truth for another two years, when he just let it slip at Easter. He bragged about it, even, like he'd invented a really smart child-rearing technique. I don't want to write too much down here because I don't need to, if anything I want therapy to *stop* everything he did from running through my head. He's a punishment-obsessed sadist, a Baptist, and he works as a judge. Did he ever sexually abuse me? No. Parent of the year, right? He kicked me out for being a fag the day I turned eighteen, so it's ironic that my biggest fear is that he comes looking for me. He doesn't even know I'm a girl.

On the other hand, my mom has had an interesting life. She's kind of a fuck up. When I was one year old, mom and dad split and dad got full custody--being a judge helped with that--while mom left the state. She spent a decade trying to kick a heroin habit and a year and a half in prison for related stuff, got banned from even entering the state I lived in on account of her parole--again, dad being a judge helped with that--illegally emigrated to Canada for a while, and went to Oregon by mistake, doing a mixture of bartending, delivery driving, MDMA dealing and whoring to stay afloat.

The only reason we met again is that I was in the same city staying with friends, also whoring. I don't remember the first time I saw her, but the first time we talked was in a mutual friend's tiny studio apartment with a few other hooker friends. We ended up comparing our Pest Lists, shared a few drinks, and swapped numbers. A week later we fucked, and a month after *that* we realized that we'd Oedipus'd ourselves. It seems funnier now than it did at the time.

That was an emotional time. We cried with joy that we'd found each other, we started tip-toeing around the ideas of rebuilding our lives together, and we agreed to pretend that the sex had never happened. Of course, we got drunk together a week later and fucked again. She's hot! I have a thing for older women, I have a thing for breaking taboos, and I have a thing for being mommied in bed. Blame dad for raising me like this, I dunno.

We started doing sex work as a team after she got a dental abscess. The bill for the hospital stay and the tooth removal was insane, and the dentist straight-up told her that she'd end up with another in a different tooth within a year if she didn't get two root canals. Even when she was recovering, we could only afford fish antibiotics off of Amazon. We crunched some numbers and made some inquiries, and figured out that we could pull in two week's worth of our combined income with one night of mother-daughter stuff.

Our first joint session was with a real estate pervert I'll call Stan, a chubby balding powerlifter in his fifties who we'd both had as a client before. Mom took me over her knees and switched between spanking me and fingering me while he watched. I sucked him off while mom made out with him, made out with my mom with his cock between our lips, licked his balls as mom licked my ass, then let him fuck my ass while mom sat on my face. That was the first half hour. He came six more times before we passed out in the early hours of the morning, and I drifted off nursing his finally-limp cock in my mouth. He paid us the price of a used Volkswagen for our trouble, and I blew him one last time before we left as a thank-you.

Six months later, mom's teeth were fixed, I was on spiro, and we had just under a dozen clients for our "doubles sessions." Only a few of our appointments are ones with me and mom together, three or four a month, we mostly work alone. That's not out of a deliberate choice, it's just that we've got a strict criteria for who we'll double up on.

Trust is one thing: depending on the lawyers we can afford, what we're doing is either kinda illegal or extremely illegal. Since my dad is presumably still a judge, I don't want him to ever find out about this. He'd put us in a prison or a mental institution. We won't do a double session with a client unless we've both had individual sessions with them.

Money is the other thing. Getting your dick sucked by a hot mom while her daughter sucks your balls costs a week's wages for the average person. Hiring us for the night is more like a month's wages. Even in a city like this, there's only a few thousand people that can drop that kind of money on hookers. Then, they've got to *want* to fuck a trans girl and her mom together. Don't get me wrong, more people are into mother-daughter incest than you'd expect, but it's not a universal thing.

Clients are, on average, annoying. It's a fact of life. The thing that all clients have in common is a ton of disposable income and a fondness for fucking hookers. They're not necessarily bad people, but there’s a heavy ‘What can a banana cost, ten dollars?’ vibe to them. It’s not that they’re adrenochrome-drinkers who don’t see regular people as human, it’s more that they don’t have an intuitive awareness that other people don’t have savings accounts, health insurance, an investment property, and four figures of walking-around money at any given time. I guess I'd feel differently if I was like, a concierge or a PA, but there's a lot more pillow talk in my job.

I've had bad and dangerous clients before, there's been at least two occasions where I was pretty sure I was going to die--one where the hospital afterwards stay wiped out four months of income, not counting the month where I couldn’t work--but they were all before I met mom, when I couldn't be so careful about screening prospective clients and dropping them if they threw up red flags. I'm sure we'll get bad clients in the future, but we're in a better place to deal with them safely.

I also wanna write down what a "normal day" is like. Friday was a good example. I woke up early at 9am and cooked breakfast for mom. She was up already doing the laundry. We entertain some clients in our apartment, so we go through a lot of clothes and a lot of sheets. You can't fuck a guy on top of another guy's cum stains, that's rude. Some of the job is Housework But More. We don't really use the main bedroom or the sitting room because we treat them like bed and breakfast guest rooms. It's annoying but every time we have a session without getting an actual hotel or motel room we save like $50 minimum.

After breakfast I epilated, showered, and went for a run. Personal grooming isn't that big a deal in terms of time, I'm not saying I don't spend a lot of time on it, I do, but I'd be spending that time even if I worked in a bar or an office or something. Look: I'm hot. I might have been a weird-looking spotty nerd when I thought I was a boy, but as a girl I'm a fucking dime. I could get like, 25% uglier before it had any impact on my earnings. The only part of personal grooming that's necessary for sex work and I wouldn't do all the time anyway is power-washing my guts an hour before every session.

After lunch, mom went to see some friends and I played Magic for a few hours. At two pm, the actual work started. I picked up the work phone for the first time that day and began answering texts. An hour later I'd cancelled the 6pm appointment, blocked out all of Sunday evening, checked in with a few regulars, and provisionally moved three guys to the 'Time Wasters' list.

I spent a while sexting with a good prospect. He was a good prospect because he paid up-front for the sexting instead of treating it like a free samples platter at Costco. We scheduled a tentative appointment for next Tuesday, when his wife would be out of town on a business trip. Most of the guys I fuck have kinks, and I swear that 'cheating on your wife with a sex worker' is the most common one there is. Do I feel bad about it? At my hourly rate, absolutely not.

Mom got back at half four, so I took a break. We made tacos for lunch together and ate while watching Billions. She nudged me and told me that I need to do my injection, and, well, we have a little ritual for that. I'm scatterbrained and I'm not great with needles, but mom has been incredibly supportive with my HRT, and when I told her I was having problems taking them on time, she came up with a way to make me as comfortable as possible. As soon as the needle is ready, I laid down in her lap and she cradled my head in her arms, pressing her bare chest against my face. I took a nipple into my mouth and nursed it softly while she stroked my hair. She called me a good girl, telling me how proud she is of her daughter, how much she loves me, and asked if I was going to take my medicine like a big girl. On good days I inject myself while she pets me and coos over me, and on bad days she takes the needle and does it for me. As soon as I dropped the needle in the sharps container, mom pressed a Hitachi against my cock and took one of my nipples into her mouth, called me her big brave girl, and asked if I was gonna cum for mommy.

As usual, the answer was yes.

Late afternoon and early evening is when the messages start flowing in, especially on Fridays, when the kinds of people with hooker money have either left work early and thinking about getting laid, or are still held up at work and are desperately thinking about getting laid. This kind of messaging gets trickier, because it comes down to what I'm providing. Like, setting up a session is the kind of normal administrative stuff that's baked into the price of a session. It's also partly a sales job, so I'm naturally flirty and solicitous, and because I do sex work I talk openly about sex.

However, *sexting* is not normal administrative stuff. If I'm sending you messages for jerking-off purposes, I can charge by the hour or by the text but I will insist on charging for it. Also, it's not just sex that me and mom provide. There's a reason that 'companionship' is an old euphemism for whoring, it's because whores are good company. I'm a good listener and I don't judge, which means I'm like the fun parts of a therapist but without all the homework and self-improvement. I'm (unsurprisingly) friendly with all of my clients, and I have more than a few clients and former clients who I'd consider good friends and vice versa. I talk to a bunch of them outside of a business context, especially the ones I met outside of my job, and that's a normal part of maintaining a pool of clients for any sales job, but on the other hand... it's a demand on my time and it's a part of my services. I can and have bluntly told guys that they're wasting my time when it comes to uncompensated sexting, but the platonic stuff requires a lighter touch.

One of my regulars, Fintech Pete, sent me a message. Two messages later, he sent me $100, and we're off. Describing in gratuitous detail exactly how I'm going to suck his cock, begging him to fuck me until my clit is drooling all over the sheets, sending him feet pics, things of that nature. Pete is great for sexting because he barely jerks off while he's doing it, he saves all the messages and pictures and jerks off to them later, because he's got some biohacking routine where he only cums once a week. He said once that part of the reason he hires sex workers is that he takes each nut a lot more seriously if he's paying three digits minimum for the privilege. He does this teleconferencing report with the board of directors at his company four times a year, and every time he hires me to kneel under the desk in his home office and suck him off while he makes his presentation.

Anyway, while we were going back and forth like that, he mentioned that I'd made a joke one time about doing a joint session with my mom. I told him it wasn't a joke, and to cut a long story short, half an hour later I was asking mom if she was up for an overnight session starting at 9pm. She agreed, Pete confirmed, so we both got ready--think getting dolled up for a night out but with a more thorough enema--and drove to his place. He lived outside of town in a two-bedroom suburban home, alone with his two dogs.

As soon as we were parked in his garage I did the safety call in front of him: I rang a friend of mine, told her we were visiting a friend, told her it was at the address I sent her earlier, and told her we'd call her again tomorrow morning. Was it really necessary to do that with someone like Fintech Pete? No, but practice makes permanent. If you let these things slip when there's no danger, eventually they'll slip when there is danger.

Now, I don't want to imply that I'm in a lot of danger! There's a reason that most of the faces you'll see on the Trans Day of Remembrance are of poor black and brown women, because real danger comes when you can't turn skeevy jobs, when you can't afford to take precautions, when you have to make the choice over and over between maybe starving and maybe getting murdered. I'm white, I've got a good support network, and I've been relatively lucky in that I can do all these things to minimize my risks. I've still got to do them, though! Things like safety calls are a good habit to get into and it helps all sex workers if there's an expectation that they've all got someone looking out for them.

...I get that there is some bravado creeping into this journal. I start off saying that admin is the worst part of the job and a page later I flippantly mention that the job has put me in the hospital. On a day to day basis yeah, the admin is the bit that sucks the most, but if you offered me a deal where the admin is twice as bad but I never took that session, I’d take it in a heartbeat. This job has left me with some scars. Any time something cold touches my wrist I get a vivid flash of the first time I had my hands zip-tied behind my back in a cop car. I've had nightmares all my life, and more than a few of my nightmares are about stuff that's happened since I got into sex work.

If it seems like I’m downplaying it, it’s because the harrowing stuff is where the job has gone wrong, it’s not baked into the everyday stuff, and most importantly it has nothing to do with my mom. The work I've done with her is some of the least stressful and dangerous I've had since I started this job, and whatever wounds I have, she's not the one who caused them.

On a more positive note, a cool thing about doing sessions with my mom is that we can dress pretty conservatively and still have it come off as insanely lewd. Mom wore a black cocktail dress with an imitation pearl necklace and her hair up in a bun, I was in a white blouse under a lambswool sweater, a pleated short skirt, cheap dark tights--Pete has a thing for tearing them--and patent leather shoes. When you're going to suck a guy's world entirely off alongside your mom, the more modestly you're dressed, the more perverted it looks. Out in the suburbs it also means you get to avoid the microskirts and fishnets look which screams to the neighbors 'I've just hired a pair of hookers' or the mid-range raincoat over microskirts and fishnets look which screams 'I've just hired a pair of pricey hookers."

Pete's living room looks like the back room of a Radio Shack, computer guts everywhere, every surface turned into a makeshift workbench. It's not a suitable place for lovemaking; I don't want to have to pull shards of a soundcard out of my perineum. His bedroom is a lot neater, with a king-sized bed to sit on, a ton of pillows to lounge up against, and a TV mounted on the wall. Mom poured out some wine, a mid-range red zinfandel that we'd picked up on the way, Pete brought out some imported dark chocolate that costs like $40/kg, and I swung my legs over his lap and turned on the Food Network. I took a bite of chocolate, mom took a sip of wine, and before either of us swallowed she pulled me into a deep kiss, mixing the wine and the chocolate. It's a good combination, and Pete enjoyed the show.

The night started off with chatting. None of us were in any rush, not with an overnight session, and since Pete has been a client for each of us for a while it was a pretty relaxed atmosphere. Pete's fingers danced over my thighs, absent-mindedly plucking ladders into the fabric as we talked baseball, business, sex work, the difference between the gentrified fag bar downtown and the really gentrified fag bar downtown, programming and other nerd shit, local politics, the contestants on Cutthroat Kitchen, just normal stuff. Mom and Pete started talking about fancy cooking stuff so I started annoying them both by claiming that sardines are just fully-grown anchovies, that DOP labels are all fake, and that instant grits are better than the regular ones until mom jabbed me with a finger and told me that my mouth should be put to better use elsewhere.

You know how some people say "Cilantro tastes like soap, that's why it's good?" Same thing for how weird it feels to go down on my mom. The first time I ever jerked off, watching a 144p clip of Rocco Sifreddi fucking a girl in the ass while flushing her head down a toilet bowl, knowing that this meant I was going to go to Hell unless I begged God for forgiveness and never did it again, I came so hard I passed out. It feels good, it feels wrong that it feels so good, and it feels even better because it feels so wrong.

She was already wet when I got between her legs. I kissed her clit and started licking, her bush tickling my nose and her thighs squeezing my ears. Fabric rasped over my head as she hiked her dress up to run her hand through my hair. Everything was muffled but I could hear kissing and clinking, and I knew that mom was undoing Pete's belt and jeans to give him a Catholic-quality handjob.

I got mom worked up, bucking her hips and getting all breathy, until she asked me to get up here and give her some help. I crawled up to his groin and winked up at him. He blushed and grinned back. Pete's not a bad-looking guy. I mean, I don't care about looks in general, I guess I can look at someone and say that objectively they're ugly, and if someone is beautiful it adds something to the experience, but like... it doesn't really figure into it. Obviously most johns don't look like supermodels but they're not uniformly ugly, as I said before the thing that johns have in common is being horny guys with a lot of disposable income. Still, Pete is towards the better-looking side of that scale.

...Okay there is one thing about him that's weirdly common for my clients, I call it 'John Balding:' where a guy is losing his hair but in a slow, uneven, and kinda weird pattern, so that even when they cross into being more bald than not, they never bite the bullet and shave it all off. Pete is only like 30% of the way through that process so it doesn't look terrible yet, but he's on that track.

Anyway, back to the sex. A fun thing about double blowjobs is that you can take them a whole lot slower than solo blowjobs. Me and mom have had a lot of practice so we go at about 1/4th speed and it feels twice as good. She started off by wrapping her hand around the shaft, slowly stroking it while she softly kissed the tip, and I licked his balls, gently lapping at one, then the other, cleaning away the day's sweat and musk, carefully taking both of them into my mouth at once. Mom swallowed half his length, and I started kissing my way up his shaft as she pulled back up, my lips touching the head as hers reached the very tip. She grabbed me by my hair and pulled me into a deep French kiss with his cock in the middle, precum mixing with spit, moaning as we felt him twitch and grunt, mom's hand on his balls and my hand on his shaft. We broke the kiss and repeated it in reverse, taking his cock in my throat as mom kissed her way down to his balls. He came after five minutes of gentle little schoolgirl kisses on each side of his cock from the pair of us. The first rope caught mom on her cheek, the second hit her hair, but I wrapped my lips tight around the head and sucked him dry before he could spill another drop.

You can't give a client a mother-daughter blowjob and not snowball the cum back and forth in front of him. We've done it enough times to get the timing down: wait until he sits up straight, because if you don't he'll be too dazed from nutting in your mouth to really appreciate it. Make sure he's looking at you, move your hair out of the way so it doesn't obstruct his view, open your lips so that a trickle of jizz almost sloshes out, move in close to your mom so that your noses are touching and it's clear that you're about to kiss, sink a palm into her tits as she grabs your ass, and then you gotta really go for it: wide-mouthed, feral, energetic, like you're trying to reach each other's sinuses. If a little bit of cum spills out because you're being so sloppy, that's a sign that you're doing it right. You're going to lick it up afterwards anyway.

We broke the kiss, I licked mom's face clean, and we took a break. We drank some more wine, he offered us cigarettes--the coolest clients are the ones that let you smoke indoors--and we cuddled and relaxed for a while with Guy's Grocery Games playing on the TV. Pete went to get some water, and returned with three bottles and a strip of Cialis. He downed two pills, we both stripped off--it was sweltering by that point--and got ready for the next round.

Mom played with his nipples and I got between his legs again, this time going lower than his balls to eat his ass out. Rimming is a trusted client privilege like the mom-daughter stuff is, except it's less about trusting them in the legal sense and more about trusting that it won't be grainy down there. I like it when a client is clean enough to rim, because I'm extremely good at it. Mom says she's better, she claims she once made a guy no-touch cum with a rimjob, but I don't fucking believe her.

He got hard after a minute of digging my tongue into his ass, but his cock was still super-sensitive so we figured we'd tease him for a while longer. We swapped places, mom ate his ass while he made out with me, squeezing my tits and playing with my cock. I like it when guys touch my tits, my cock is... fine, I guess? I don't viscerally dislike people touching it but it doesn't do much for me. After a minute of that he reaches around and works a finger into my asshole, which is much more my speed.

By the time he was two knuckles deep I looked down and saw his cock twitching, leaking precum onto his stomach. He seemed pretty worked up. I kissed his neck, nipped at his ear, and whispered, "Do you wanna breed me, Mister?"

He sure did.

I use condoms unless I've got an extremely compelling reason not to, and mom has a cool trick for getting them on. She grasped Pete's cock around the base, placed her lips around the tip, deepthroated the entire thing in a single stroke, and as she slowly lifted her head back up, his cock was neatly fitted with a condom.

As soon as I lubed up he put me on my back, pushed my ankles up to my ears, pressed his cock against my hole and sunk into me inch by inch. He muffled my moans with a kiss and rutted me into the bed. I gotta give it to him, all that biohacking and cardio is doing something right because he railed me at a fast, steady pace until my dick was leaking all over my tummy and I couldn't form sentences in my head any more. Mom made out with him as he finished, and at that point I was just babbling nonsense. He was gentle and cautious as he pulled out of me, stroking my hair as I reached down to take off his condom. I poured the contents out over my tits, slumping back against the headboard as mom licked them clean.

It wasn't yet midnight by then, and we went on like that through the night. Licking his feet, mom-daughter 69, him sucking my cock while mom rode his dick like a Sorority cowgirl champion, more wine, more double-blowjobs, tacking an extra $200 onto the fee for the privilege of pissing in my mouth instead of having to get up to go to the bathroom, a whole buffet of fun whore stuff.

We woke up at around ten in the morning, stayed for breakfast, then said our goodbyes. Me and mom thanked him for his custom, and he thanked us for a good time. By midday we were at home, we both showered, checked our calendars, messaged our evening clients to confirm that they were still on, and then... well, the rest of the day kinda evaporated. I played Demons' Souls until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, passed out in bed, and woke up when my alarm went off in the evening.

That's one of the things I don't like about overnight sessions: you're technically only spending like, ten to twelve hours with a client, and for some of that time you're either not fucking or actively asleep, but it kinda feels like it destroys two days. By the time it's scheduled, everything in the rest of the day is either preparing for it or doing it, and when you get back it takes the rest of the day just to recover. I don't like that part of my job, and if I sit down I can probably go through a whole bunch of things I don't like about my job. I still know that my job isn't a *bad* job, because the last time I had a bad job it was at a chicken processing plant. Know how I know that the chicken job was bad? Because I excused myself for a bathroom break four hours into the shift, walked off site, and never came back.

You know what, there's another reason I know that this isn't a bad job and that mom isn't a bad mom, and I guess it's part of the reason I've written all this down in the first place. I was seven years old when I first wanted to die. By the time I got to high school, suicidal thoughts were just the radio static in my brain. I can't remember any point after like, grade school where I didn't daydream about suicide every single day.

Now? I sometimes go for weeks without thinking about killing myself. It hasn't gone away completely, it still pops up when I'm upset or stressed out or tired or really hungry, but what I do is I talk to mom about it, and she talks me out of it. I feel guilty sometimes about putting that pressure on her, and taking that pressure off is part of the reason I'm going to therapy I guess.

I hope it works out.

I really think it will.

#story #stories

65 notes · View notes

voiceless-terror · 4 years

Text

The Breaking Down of Walls (The Magnus Archives)

Whumptober 2020 Day Seven: Carrying

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Jonathan Sims, Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood

CW: Sickfic

Summary: For all his grumbling, he doesn’t think Jon actually minded it that much.

He squeaked and protested when Tim threw him over a shoulder, but he went soft and pliant after about a minute of being carted around. He’s almost gotten used to being picked up and bodily moved out of the way by Tim instead of getting a simple ‘excuse me.’ Tim once caught him smiling after he’d been perched on the break room counter while Tim cleaned up a glass he shattered. It quickly morphed into a scowl on eye contact, though.

Jon was small. Portable. Travel-sized for convenience. Jon did not like this pointed out to him.

So Tim made it his job to point it out as often as possible.

“Hey there lil’ guy!” was his favorite greeting back in research and Jon would always return it with a furious glare and a grumbling, futile protest. See, Tim’s a tall guy. Of course everyone would seem small to him. But Jon was genuinely small. Like, he has to jog to keep up if you have a brisk pace. Watching those little legs work overtime to catch up to him in the hallway was one of Tim’s greatest joys. The man was five foot and change, if the change was pennies on the dollar. Tim particularly liked to rest his elbow on his head; the afternoon silent-treatment it got him was well worth it.

For all his grumbling, he doesn’t think Jon actually minded it that much.

Tim believed he protested too much. Jon liked friends and company despite his prickly exterior. No one leaned into a touch like that if they didn’t want it. So Tim took the complaints with a grain of salt.

The dynamic changed when they moved down to the archives. Jon had distanced himself, locking his office door and trying to seem like a far more serious man than he was. Tim understood- with Elias breathing down their necks, anyone would be worried about professionalism. But it was wearing on Jon both physically and mentally. He was not very pleased with Tim’s moniker of ‘lil boss’ so he cut that out right quick. He looked tired and harried every day and was prone to snapping at the slightest of inconveniences- these days the inconvenience was more often than not Martin.

Poor Martin. He was the odd man out, the only one not to come out of research. Elias assigned him to the archives which put Jon immediately on guard. But Martin was a nice kid, just trying to scrape by like the rest of him. It wasn’t his fault his Latin was terrible and Jon was exacting. Well, maybe he could work on the Latin. But he brought them tea and asked about their day which was more kindness than anyone here had experienced in quite some time. He was working very, very hard at trying to break down Jon walls. He brought him tea on the hour and tried to coax him out for lunch. He took every insult and rejection with a mask of politeness that Tim knows must have taken him some time to perfect. He let Martin do the mothering; Tim doesn’t know how to express his concern in a non-tactile fashion.

Jon hadn’t been out of his office all morning. This was not unusual, not these days. Martin expressed his concern more than once and Tim decided to check up on him at the end of the day if he hadn’t come out- he’s knee deep in research and on a roll. Sasha’s out investigating a case and it’s only the three of them in the office. The clock neared three and Tim yawned; he really needed this weekend to come quick.

“Tim!” he heard a strangled voice call. Martin. “Tim, can you come here please?” This couldn’t be anything good. He hurried out of his chair and made his way down the hallway to- you guessed it- Jon’s office.

“H-He won’t wake up!” Martin stuttered, hands hovering uselessly over Jon, who was currently collapsed in his office chair either snoozing or deeply unconscious. Damn. “I-I know he looked bad today but he told me to leave him alone so I did and now look at him!”

Jon indeed didn’t look or sound well. His hair was out of its bun and in a tangled mess that hid most of his face, but what he could see was flushed a bright red. His breathing was labored, a slow and uneven wheeze. Tim immediately started making his way over. “Does he have a fever?”

“I think so,” Martin replied. “But I didn’t check. Didn’t know if he wanted me...touching him.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I think this is an exception.” Martin clearly wasn’t comfortable enough with the man to bully him just yet (Jon seemed to do most of the bullying nowadays). He needed a firmer hand when it came to taking care of himself and Tim and Sasha were usually the ones to give it. One hand to Jon’s forehead and he knew the man had worked himself sick, again. It’d been a while since this last occurred- it used to happen with some frequency back in research, at least until Tim and Sasha convinced him to take it easy. But they had been distant and it’s clear that Jon’s fallen back into old habits. Tim sighed, brushing a lock of Jon’s hair behind his ear. “What are we gonna do with you, hm?” he murmured softly, well-aware of Martin’s eyes on his back.

“I-I can set up the cot in the back!” Martin suggested, moving over to the door as if to do it immediately. “I can sleep on the break room couch, it’s surprisingly comfy.” Tim had forgotten that Martin had been living in the archives- Christ, what has this place come to- but it was a Friday night and he didn’t want Jon here all weekend; he would likely just work himself into exhaustion yet again. So Tim made a decision.

“I’ll take him home. He’ll recover better if he’s out of here,” He looked at Martin critically. He wasn’t in the best of shape either. There were dark circles under his eyes and he couldn’t be getting great sleep cooped up in the basement like this. ‘Why don’t you come too?” Martin's eyes widened in surprise. “You could do with a good night’s sleep and my living room couch is legendary.”

“I couldn’t-”

“Nope, I’ve already decided for you,” Tim gave him an easy grin, hoping to seal the deal. “Go get us a cab, will you? I didn’t drive and we aren’t taking the tube.”

“O-Okay! If you’re s-sure.”

“I’m always sure.” He threw in a wink for good measure and Martin was out the door. Works every time.

Getting Jon out of the chair turned out to be tougher than expected. He was contorted around his desk; he’d clearly been in this position for quite some time. As gently as possible, he wound an arm around his knees and titled Jon back until he fell against his chest and against his other arm. “There we go,” he mumbled even though he knew the man couldn’t hear. “Let’s get you home.” Jon felt incredibly warm in his arms and Tim’s worry increased; he hoped he had medicine back at his flat that hadn't expired. The man was even lighter than expected and Tim almost stumbled backward with how he overcompensated for his weight. Another thing I’ll have to talk to him about.

Martin came back downstairs, his footsteps quick and loud on the tile. “Cab’s here- oh.” He paused, staring down at Jon and blushing for some reason. Tim looked at him quizzically before gazing down to his arms- at some point Jon had nuzzled himself into his shoulder, one hand gripping his shirt in a tight little fist. He had to admit it was an adorable picture, but they didn’t have time for Martin’s crush right now. “I’ll just go and uh, grab my things then.”

They end up in the back of a cab, all three of them. It’s not particularly comfortable but they manage to sprawl Jon across the both of them, head still tucked into Tim’s shoulder and legs stretched out into Martin’s lap. Tim is only a little amused with Martin's awkward placement of his hands in an attempt to avoid touching Jon, though he ends up grabbing onto his legs to keep him in place about two minutes into the ride. They fell into a silence on the way, the only noise was Jon’s breathing which sounded more labored by the second.

“Is he- was he always like this?” Martin asked quietly, allowing himself one more glance at Jon. Martin’s face was still red, much to Tim’s amusement. “Working himself to death?”

“Never this bad,” Tim replied, running a hand through Jon’s hair. He remembered doing this back in research, back when it was okay to touch him. Was he taking advantage? Perhaps a little, but Jon looked like he needed it. “New job’s wearing him down, I think.”

“W-What was he like before?”

Tim paused. Frankly, he’s a bit unsure of what Martin’s looking for here. Jon’s always been Jon, but the promotion seems to have dialed up all of his worst habits past ten. Habits that Tim thought they’d put behind them. It’s not like Jon’s particularly changed- perhaps regressed was a better word. He’s rebuilding the walls that took him years to deconstruct. He’s scared, Tim realized. Don’t know why it took me this long to see it.

“He’s actually quite soft,” Tim stuck to the present tense. Jon’s not lost, after all. Just a little in his head. “Once you get to know him. We were- we are friends. He’ll get used to you,” Martin deserved a little reassurance. “Just gotta invest some time. Like you’re already doing.”

Martin went quiet. He didn’t seem convinced.

“One time he sprained his ankle on the way into work,” Tim smiled, remembering the day from about a year ago. “Idiot thought it would be fine to walk around the library like nothing happened. You should’ve seen Sasha when she found out. Full of fury, that one. Never get on her bad side.” Sasha’s mother-hen instincts were even worse than Martin’s, though hers were much more intense and full of scolding. “Made a deal that if he was going to work he’d have to sit the fuck down. ‘Course Jon’s not going to do that- he may seem like he sits in his office all day, but I’m sure he’s actually pacing up a storm in there.” A fond smile down at the man in his arms. “So whenever he got up I hauled him on my back. Sasha has a picture somewhere. He was horribly embarrassed, of course, but I think he came around to the idea.” He nudged Martin in the side. “He secretly likes all of that fussing, I promise you.”

“He hides it well, then,” Martin rolled his eyes though he was smiling.

They got to Tim’s flat in a thankfully short period of time. “Make yourself at home,” he said to Martin as he opened the door with just a small adjustment of Jon. “I’m going to get this one settled in my room.”

“Alright,” Martin ducked his head shyly, standing awkwardly in the middle of Tim’s living room. He’ll warm up to it, Tim thought as he made his way to the bedroom. He’s glad he decided to clean the place a couple of nights ago- Jon deserved some freshly-laundered sheets and clean air. Better than that stuffy basement.

Jon blinked his eyes open as Tim gently laid him down on the bed. They were watery and fever-bright, his brow furrowed in confusion.”T-Tim?” he croaked. Yikes, that sounds bad. “S’at you?”

“There you are, lil’ guy,” Tim murmured, wondering if Jon could even hear him. He propped a pillow up beside him and sat on the other side of the bed, tucking Jon against his side. “Took you back to my place. You’ve done a number on yourself, y’know.” Jon groaned and leaned into his shoulder, clearly looking for comfort in his vulnerable state. Tim would give it to him. “When you’re better we're going to have a talk, young man.”

“Hate talks,” Jon whined, rubbing his face into Tim’s shoulder. Ah, so we’ve reached the brat stage of illness. Right on time. “Just gonna sleep. Gotta...got work to do.”

“No you don’t,” Tim replied and squeezed Jon’s shoulders. “You’re going to take some medicine and eat. Have a nap. And maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you watch me play video games. But only if you’re good.” He paused, remembering Martin in his living room. “Also, Martin’s here. Just so you know.”

Jon didn’t seem to have any complaints about that. Huh. Maybe he doesn’t mind him as much as I thought. “S’he gonna make tea? Want tea.” Tim couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat.

“Yeah,” he promised. “He’ll make us some tea. Maybe cook us breakfast in the morning. The whole sha-bang. Gotta earn his keep.”

“I think Martin can make good eggs.” Yeah, Jon’s not going to remember this conversation.

“How can you tell?” He humored him anyway.

“It’s his face,” Jon’s tone left no room for argument. “I can jus’ tell from his face.” Alright then, Jon.

The man was starting to doze off and Tim took this as his cue to grab some medicine while he still had the chance. He carefully maneuvered around Jon, making sure he was properly tucked in the bed and not in danger of falling off. “Be right back, okay?” No answer, but Tim hadn’t really expected one.

He took a second to look down at his friend, soft and familiar in his bed. This weekend will be good, Tim decided. For all of us. It took him years to break down Jon’s walls and he was willing to do it again. Because Jon was his friend.

And Tim couldn’t lose anyone else.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876779

#whumptober2020 #no.7 #carrying #fic #the magnus archives #sickfic cw #but nothing graphic #my writing #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #tim stoker

83 notes · View notes

btssmutficslovingfan01 · 4 years

Text

Friendly Encounters- Chapter Three

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Fluff

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Mentions of sex, language, mature themes, mostly safe but not suitable for young audiences below the age of 16, and binge eating if you are easily triggered by that.

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 5.8k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Yoongi x Reader

Masterlist

⇤Prev | Next⇥

__________________________________

“My boyfriend actually called me his wife today.” “Oh yeah, well mine already proposed to me, that’s right, five years since we've started dating!”

“Oh, Lyric, you’re lucky. My boyfriend only ever invited me to his family’s tree trimming party and we got blessings from all of his great-aunts, uncles, and other relatives. His parents even call me their future daughter.” You roll your eyes at how unrelenting these girls are. They won’t even stop talking about boys for one second and you’ve been at this sleepover for five hours. It’s supposed to be the last sleepover of the decade as seniors, for everyone since you and this tiny group started planning in the seventh grade. Just because you’re all girls doesn’t mean boys are the only thing you have to talk about! It’s not an obligation. This isn’t a disney movie where the prince is going to marry the princess at the end, it’s real life and everyone is too fucking clingy to realize it.

“Can we not talk about boys tonight?” You finally ask out loud, earning a gasp from everyone in the vicinity, including Bae, who happens to be a lesbian. Even she was enjoying the boy talk.

“Why? That’s literally what sleepovers are about.” Your other friend, Joy points out. You sigh in frustration, falling back on the carpeted floor while hugging your soft ladybug plushie.

“Looks like someone’s having a bit of drama, we heard from Jessica. Now, tell mama River what’s really going on.” You take in a deep breath before slowly explaining your situation with the boys.

“And these boys are a gay couple?” Bae asks in a questioning tone.

“They are! But...after a certain encounter, I’m not really sure what to think. They’re older, and in love with each other, but I feel like I’m just intruding at times, you know?” Another girl that goes by the name of “Temoshika-san,” which is her japanese name nods in agreement, holding out a tray of foods for you to snack on.

“Eat. I binge whenever I’m stressed.” She says after you take a tiny bag of doritos.

“Hon..I’m gonna say something but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Your most sensible friend, Toriel (oh yes I named her after an undertale character) says after a long moment of silence.

“Shoot. I’ve already made plans with them for next week to see a concert so there’s nothing that can surprise me now.” You bite your lips. It’s been an entire month since that day when Yoongi demanded you to lick ice cream off his boyfriend’s cheek and things escalated from there.

You didn’t have sex, but it was a close call. Your heart almost ran away from you. Yet, they don’t bring it up, so it’s safe to assume that they felt nothing from that encounter.

Maybe Jimin didn’t anyways. Or maybe he was feeling just as horny as you! Who knows? No guy has ever looked at you that way before, so you wouldn’t even know.

“I think that both of these boys might be catching feelings for you. But they’ve probably never had feelings for a girl before, so they don’t know how to go about it.” Her theory makes sense. Suddenly, all of the pieces click in your mind.

“You’re a genius, Toriel!” You give her a hug before whipping out your phone to text Jimin. Right on cue, you get a text! But you’re surprised to see that it's not from Jimin.

“Damn, that's some cold shit right there. I didn’t know what you did to piss him off so much.” Bae chuckles at your misery as you put your phone away.

“Wanna spill the details?” A girl by the name of Cleo asks. You roll your eyes.

“It was just Yoongi. He said he and Jimin wanted to talk to me. As if things haven’t been awkward enough.” You feel like you’re walking on eggshells with the two, as you’ve stopped hugging Jimin for longer than 10 seconds.

And you’ve stopped your musical obsessions with Yoongi as well, keeping the fangirling to a bare minimum. You just want everything to go back to normal, so you can continue onto your adult life without holding on so much to the past. And they aren’t the only things bothering you, but Jungkook has been desperately trying to fix your relationship.

Jasmine won’t so much as breathe in your direction, as she doesn’t need you anymore. She has everything. The popular clique, a hot boyfriend, and perfect grades. She isn’t bothering you at all, but you are tempted to scream in her face about keeping her boy toy in control. He keeps wandering out of her lane and onto yours. Which you think you can use to your advantage.

It’s not like you’re going to sleep with him or anything, you just think it’s the perfect opportunity to take back what was rightfully yours. And in this case, Jungkook is the perfect trophy. You don’t like objectifying people, but at this point you don’t even care if he used your name to impress a couple of underclassmen, you feel honored, actually, but you don’t actually care about him. He kissed you too, while he was dating her. That’s a sign that things aren’t looking too good for them.

Who are you kidding?! You should let them go. As if you have the balls to actually sneak around Jasmine’s back and snatch her boyfriend from her.

“Girl, just talk to them. I advise you to tell them as soon as possible what type of feelings you may or may not have for them. It’s gonna be okay.” Toriel pats your back as you recover from the growing anxiousness in your gut. Something tells you, everything is not going to be okay.

“Moving onto our next sleepover activity….horror stories!”

༻• The Next Day, At Your House •༺

You sneak into your home early in the morning, around 7 or 8, to be exact, hoping that Jimin and Yoongi were away at work. Your mom is already gone, as she texted you that she would be going on a business trip this particular week. The slumber party kept you awake all night, and the girls had really scary stories to share so you weren’t exactly calm...even now you are on edge as Jimin frightens you from behind.

“Hi.” You jump back, startled because of how quiet and swiftly he came up from behind you.

“H-hey. I thought I was home alone.” He gives you a sweet smile, the same comforting grin you saw that day in the cafe after you almost embarrassed yourself while asking for his number. Those were the good times, when you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. A friendship with anyone of the opposite sex is complicated, after all. You convinced yourself of this since Yoongi and Jimin are 100% gay and show no signs of any lust or extra thirst after you but you still had awkward tension. Hell, even now after Jimin walked up from behind you like that, you still have a strange feeling in your gut.

“You thought wrong! Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about

how you almost peed your pants after I gave you a scare.” The mood is mellow, and you’re both comfortable around each other. Maybe Yoongi was the problem. But you don’t want to upset Jimin, as he’s your best friend at the moment and he’s been for you a lot more than anyone has been in the last decade.

“So, what’d I miss?” You ask, leaning in to give your best friend a hug. You inhale his strawberry-fresh scent, a little bit in awe as you’ve never gotten a waft of a nice-smelling boy. Jimin is an angel, a perfect exception. You hope you can find a man who’s as caring and attentive as he is, in the future.

“Yoongi and I have been thinking a lot about you recently, mainly how you opened up to the two of us about your life and leaned on us so easily, really it was crazy how you trusted us so easily when you barely knew either one of us,” You laugh sheepishly, mentally scolding yourself for being so childish in the first place. “But it was so admirable. And we thought, we could do the same for you. So you can learn more about the kind of people we are. We don’t like looking back on the past, but there are some parts that we just can’t leave behind. Like for example, our two exes,” At first, you think little of this. ‘He must mean the people that he and Yoongi dated before they found each other.’ That was your first thought. Just like he’s reading your mind, he answers your question, “We’re open to polyamory.” Your mouth drops to an “o” shape, and then you rack your brain for the correct answers.

You got nothing. You have no clue what the fuck a polyamory is.

“What’s that?” He chuckles at your innocence just as his boyfriend comes down the stairs.

“Hey, Yoongz, wanna explain what polyamory is to our good friend here?” You look up at the older man with curious eyes. You want to know.

“Multiple people in a relationship. Basically, Jimin and I used to invite over two other guys and we used to go on dates and do other stuff but it was really chill, nothing too serious.” You gawk as the two lean into each other for a kiss and then Jimin crawls into Yoongi’s lap before turning his head to stare at you. Two pairs of eyes are just on you, and you feel so vulnerable with all the attention on you.

“Anyways, I wanted to mainly apologize for what happened that night with the ice cream. You looked like you were enjoying yourself, and I thought I was too, until I realized I was gay. I just needed a reminder, I guess. So I thank you,” You don’t know whether you should laugh or cry, Yoongi’s expression was hard to read.

“Hyung...why do you gotta do her like that?” Jimin’s words throw you off guard. “You know what, instead of beating around the bush, I’ll just tell you: I’m bi, Yoongi was pan when I met him.” He rolls his eyes at the boy.

“Wait, didn’t you say you came out to your parents?” You ask curiously.

“I did. As gay, but then I ended up having a one night stand with a woman and after that I realized I liked both.” You take in the information very well, not letting it affect you one bit. “You know what, I’ll let you two figure out your shit…” You give Jimin a panicked look before turning to Yoongi with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“I don’t care what your sexuality is,” Your statement throws him off guard as his eyes widen quickly. “I just know what I felt was real. There was a weird connection, a moment where I wanted to kiss you.” He coughs before spreading his legs on the couch and putting his hands in his lap. You’re not gonna lie, he looks hot.

“Then why didn’t you?” You let out a small giggle before realizing that he’s completely serious.

“Because you and Jimin are dating...and I don’t like cheating.” He crosses his arms, this time scooting in closer to you.

“But we were both there, and the vibes were all right.” You feel a slight pressure on your inner thigh when you realize that Yoongi is touching you. His hands are wandering up your thigh in broad daylight. You luckily have a blanket covering you, but the look of fear on your face is a dead giveaway.

“It’s because you wimped out.”

“You should’ve just done it anyways. I probably would’ve kissed you back.” He starts kneading your thigh, giving you an almost-massage, and just as you’re about to let out a moan, Jimin comes back, holding a bowl of popcorn and setting it down on the coffee table.

“Surprise movie night...er day.” He sits next to you, oblivious to what his boyfriend is doing. You glare at Yoongi when you feel his fingers pulling your leggings down and they wander into your panties. You’re damp. Completely soaked because of this stupid man that you’re attracted to and the fact that you basically just confessed to him. He smirks when he sees your eyes roll back in your head when he reaches your g-spot, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. You cling to him, pretending that you’re simply cuddling him as Jimin’s eyes stay trained on the screen, but you fail horribly at keeping things discreet when you moan into his ears. The movie blasts at a loud volume, so the speakers drain out your groans as Yoongi drives you to an orgasm.

“Come for me, babe. Don’t want Jiminie to see, is that right?” Yoongi knows the boy would probably just join in if he actually noticed. He still manages to upset you, as with all your might, you try not to scream from pleasure.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna come.” You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out the softest but sexiest moan he’s ever heard, as his fingers twist inside of you and you climax right then and there. He leans in and finally, you get a taste of his sweet lips.

“Let’s continue this later?” He whispers to you, winking at Jimin as you sink into his arms, panting heavily and recovering from your intense orgasm. And yes, the boy knows what his boyfriend was doing under the blanket the entire time.

After the movie, you quickly run upstairs to take a shower. You didn’t expect to get fingered on your couch. You didn’t think Yoongi would actually kiss you. And you certainly didn’t think things were going to return to normal ever again. They already had girls. How many did they date in the past? Obviously having a third partner didn’t work out for either of them so what difference would it make if you were part of the equation? You step out of the shower to find Jimin in your bedroom, playing games on his phone as he waits for you. You clench your towel, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you step into your bedroom, closing the door.

“Hey! I wanted to see what you might be wearing to the concert, have you picked out an outfit?” You walk past him, motioning him to come to your closet as your finger picks and chooses the cute dress you found at the mall.

“This one.” You can see his eyes lighting up at the thought of you wearing that dress, but then his gaze darkens when he imagines you out of it. Speaking of...there was only a thin towel wrapped around your body, even then it wasn’t enough to stop his imagination. You have nice boobs, can you blame the poor guy?!

“Nice choice. I’ll just uh...step out so you can get dressed.” Also known as code red: he has a boner. You quickly throw on some shorts and a sweatshirt, as you don’t dress modestly at home. You check yourself in the mirror, making sure it’s not too much in case the boys feel uneasy.

Today’s a slow day. You finish up your homework before making your way to the kitchen for an evening snack. It’s only 5:00, yet you’re starving. What you see next surprises you, as Yoongi is on the counter while Jimin kisses him breathlessly. How do people kiss so long without breaking for air? As you observe, Jimin breaks the kiss, smiling at you as his boyfriend turns to look at you as well.

“Come here, darling.” Your feet are jello as you stumble to the two, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s bulge is sticking straight up as Jimin’s hands are on either side of him.

“Wh-what?” You blush, unable to help yourself as the blue haired god in front of you looks so good. “I like your hair.” You whisper quietly.

“Thanks, although I’ve had this hairstyle for a while,” He removes his arms from his boyfriend, putting his attention on you. “Now, you’ve been a dirty girl, fooling around with my boyfriend when I’m not looking, is that right?” You swear if you weren’t holding onto the counter you would’ve fainted.

“What? Cat got your tongue? You have quite a mouth on you when my fingers are buried in your pussy but you can’t say a word when my boyfriend asks you a perfectly valid question?” You’re shocked, frozen, freezing.

“Answer me, sweetie. Did you like it when he fingered you earlier?” You blush and nod, evading his gaze. “Look at me when I talk to you, Y/N.” When he says your name you look up, your eyes meeting his as you do. Five seconds barely pass when he smashes his lips against yours, in a desperate manner. Yoongi’s just watching, patiently waiting for you to break the kiss so he can continue the conversation.

“Y/N, we need to be honest with you. We’ve...taken a liking to you.” You don’t know how to process this information. But Jimin’s look of pleading is enough. They both want you.

“So please, will you consider joining our relationship?” You purse your lips. Every fibre of your body is screaming yes, but your mind is telling you to be reasonable, and think through this. You don’t need this right now in your life. You’ll hold them back, they’ll hurt you later, this is setting yourself up for failure.

Yet you want it so bad.

“Can I think about it? Please?” You don’t want to reject them right away.

“Of course. Take your time.” Jimin takes Yoongi’s hand before leading him to the couch. You hope they won’t ask you before the concert.

༻• At the Concert •༺

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The men brought you to a freaking J-hope concert. Not just anyone but the J-hope. He’s the most popular solo act on the planet. After he broke up with his boy band BTB, he went all crazy and started rapping about sex, and fame, and real life issues. Everyone loves him.

Including your two friends who dated him back before he was famous.

Yeah, they have a history together.

“You like it so far?” Jimin asks, leaning in while cracking open a can of pepsi.

“Are you kidding? You got premium seats to see the J-hope?” He gives you a cheeky grin before turning to Yoongi and conversing with him. You can’t seem to take your eyes off the two of them, even if you are at a J-hope concert. You feel lucky enough to be breathing the same air as him, but it’s thanks to the couple sitting beside you. Not to mention...they even dated him at some point.

“This last song goes out to two dear exes of mine…” You thought you imagined it, but he seemed to look up at your row, as if he was staring straight at Yoonmin.

“Last summer when you told me you weren’t feeling well, I thought it was just a little bump in the road, But now I know, It was all because of her, Ohhh my love, How I loved you way back then, But I was too blind to see, You really didn’t care at all,”

You don’t know how to react. Should you clap? Or laugh, or cry? It sounds like whoever he’s singing about cheated on him...with a girl.

“Now I don't care, it's all choices by my fate, so we're here, Look ahead, The way is shinin’, Keep Going Now,”

The song suddenly gets more upbeat and then the crowd goes crazy as he has an outfit change with a snap. Also, this man is glowing. The lights are perfectly bouncing off his slightly tanned skin, making him appear more heavenly. God, how did they live through this?

“That’s My Ego!” He sings the chorus cheerfully before finishing off and then fireworks light up the night sky, making some audience members cry. Jimin and Yoongi are both staring at you, though, as you watch with wonder. You look so innocent, and you’re so small...the two of them are already whipped for you, can’t you see that? Oh wait, you do.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask them, and they simply smile at you. As if that wasn’t heart-melting enough.

“Nothing. Let’s go backstage.” You blush as they both take either of your hands, leading you out of the crowded stadium so that you can visit J-Hope backstage. You were about to meet a celebrity, while being held by two guys that confessed their feelings to you just a few hours ago! As if things couldn’t get any better.

“J-HOOOOOPE!!!” Yoongi grins, throwing his arms around the celebrity as he walks into the room.

“Hey Suga. OH JEMIN!” Jimin and J-Hope share a handshake before hugging as well, and then he turns to you.

“Who is this beauty?” He turns to look at you, kissing your palm softly in greeting.

“Y/N.” You answer him, trying to conceal your uwus.

“Wow. You’re even more perfect than how they described you. You know, I’ve never seen them like someone more than they like you.” He whispers into your ears. You’re a little bit distracted by the fact that an IDOL is whispering in your ears right now. His breath smells so good. His sweat smells expensive, though.

“Y-you really think?” You ask.

“I know so.”

“Okay, if you’re done hitting on our friend, how about you tell us what you’ve been up to?” J-Hope holds up a finger, revealing the engagement ring to all of you.

“Who…?” J-Hope blushes before turning to his mirror.

“Remember that one producer? The girl who was older than me by 10 years or something?” Everyone nods, except you, who has no idea what’s going on.

“Turns out she was my soulmate all along. She proposed to me, and we’re getting married next month.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” You clap for him as the two men beside you look at you with love in their eyes.

“I’m so excited. She’s just a bucket of sunshine. Oh shoot, I’m almost late for the wine tasting. Bye guys.” We wave as the celebrity packs up his things for the day. “So, it looks like you guys lowered your standards for me.” “Oh, stop, he wasn’t even well-known when we met. And now, we’ve all moved on. The three of us are together and that’s what matters.” Yoongi cuts you off before you even start. When you get home, you’re less than amused that your mother is getting ready for the stupid marriage meeting in her room. She ushers you to change, greeting the boys but whisking you away from them just as quickly. You wave goodbye to them, in a dreary mood. “Remember to behave, poise and manners, Y/N. You want to look like a good wife.” “I don’t want to get married. I’m only 18, ma.” She brushes your hair, looking at you with teary eyes. “Your dad wants you to. And he gets what he wants. No matter what.” You sob the entire car ride, your father didn’t even bother coming home as the purpose of this stupid meeting was to make himself look good. You look up to see that the boy before you is an overgrown specimen of child. Not even a man, but just a buff baby. “Hi, how old are you?” You ask politely. The boy lowers his eyes. You already know where this is going even though you’ve barely said a few words. “15, you have nice tits.” You’re in shock, uncomfortable, lonely, and worst of all, your mom won’t even look at you. Your dad presents you like a trophy and then forces you to tell the other parents about your academic achievements before forcing you to sit down. You want to cry. But you don’t. Instead, you call Jimin. “Hey, what’s up? Is the dinner going well?” Your voice starts breaking before you even talk, making you suck in deep breaths before looking out the bathroom window. “No, Jimin. I can’t stay here. They’re gonna force me to marry a 15 year old that just said my boobs look nice. I have to get away, do you guys think you can get me away from my parents? I’m 18, so they can’t legally do anything about it.” You hear him talking to someone in the background, presumably Yoongi.

“It’s me, Jimin just told me...I’m so sorry. All of that is awful, but is running away really going to solve anything? I know things seem bad now, but wait until your mom knows about us, I’m sure she’ll be accepting.” Yoongi sounds confident in himself, so you don’t feel like putting him down.

“Her, maybe. But not my dad. He’ll disown me.”

“Y/N, you are no object. They can’t just marry you off to anyone. And if they do, we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen. You should be allowed the choice of marrying someone you love.” You frown, seeing the tears falling out of your eyes.

“I’ll go out with you.”

═══ 🅣🅘🅜🅔🅢🅚🅘🅟 ═══

Your first date is at the cafe where it all started. The boys make sure to take time off at the same time so your schedules match up. It’s not the most conventional date, as the three of you start discussing where you’ll move in together after you run away from home.

Your dad hasn’t even spoken more than a couple sentences to you. Wow, so caring. You have no reason to stay with them anymore, as he literally forces you to go to stupid dinner parties and sets you up with boys that are too young for you. Even a 12 year old, like what the fuck?

“How was dinner last night?” Jimin asks. You roll your eyes.

“Horrible, as always. These boys are nightmares. I feel bad for their future partners.” You comment.

“Who cares? It’s just dinner. And you’re dating us now. Talk to us, babe.” You like being called “babe.” Especially when Yoongi says it, because he’s just so closed off to everyone else.

“Do you like it when he calls you baby? Because I’m pretty sure he likes it too.” Jimin giggles. Being with your best friend is really no different, except now you can kiss and hug and show affection romantically. He’s just a lot more cuddly with you. And Yoongi doesn’t mind it one bit.

He actually sometimes joins in, hugging you and Jimin lovingly. He’s so protective of you two. You love it.

And they’ve started picking you up after school, to take you out so you can be away from your house for a bit. But at the end of the day, you can always count on crawling into bed with them and dreaming your troubles away. You’ve been sleeping better with them cuddling right next to you.

Sneaking into bed with them has become a habit of yours, and you especially don’t make it clear around your dad that you have feelings for them. Although, lately everything has been striking a nerve. He often calls you to awkward dinner parties and you can’t do anything about it.

Even your boyfriends agree that it’s a bit too much. So much, that one day, Jimin decides to suggest something crazy.

“Let’s make your dad think that you’re ruined.” This catches yours and Yoongi’s attention.

“What? What the hell are you going on about, Jimin?” Uh-oh, when Yoongi uses that tone and says his name like that, you know someone’s in trouble.

“I’m saying that we make her dad think she lost her virginity.” You cross your arms, gasping as Yoongi shields your face with his arms protectively.

“What are you saying? That’s absurd. Her father is already strict as is with us living here, everytime he sees us he crinkles his nose even more. We repulse him, Jimin. What makes you think that we aren’t gonna tick him off even more?” Yoongi makes a good point. Your father was very strict, and homophobic. Perfect traditional 1800s father of the year.

“He’s here because he wants to see his little girl get engaged, right? Well, what if she brought the engagement to him? Have him walk in on one of us sharing a moment with her and then having her dad say she has to marry us?!” You’re baffled. You didn’t think your boyfriend was that dense.

“Idiot, he would probably disown her. And also, no. Maybe not marriage, he might just throw her out of the house altogether.” While you’re busy planning, what you fail to recognize is that your father leaves town again. He’s flying away, and you had no knowledge of it until your mother called you and you saw his packed suitcases as he hugged you goodbye. Looks like the meetings have come to an end.

“Jimin!!! Yoongi!!!! Come downstairs, I need to talk to you two about something.” My mother calls out to them.

“What?” Yoongi is the first to make his way down the stairs, avoiding eye contact with you.

“I’ve noticed the way you two have been interacting with my daughter as of late. The deep stares of longing everytime we sit on the couch and watch t.v together, the smiles of adoration that you only have reserved for special people, heck, even once I saw you holding her hands like she would disappear if you let go,” You can hear the nervous gulps come from the two men as they stare directly at your mom. This can’t be good. “You both have crushes on her, right?” Their eyes widen.

“What? No, I’m dating Yoongi-Boongi. My heart belongs to him and only him.” Jimin says a bit too quickly, making your mom raise her eyebrow in question.

“Your daughter is very pretty, I’ll give you that much, but I’m dating Jimin.” She clicks her tongue, not fully believing them.

“I know what it looks like when boys have a crush on a girl, seeing the way you act around her. So how about you tell me the truth straight to my face?” Jimin is the first to break under her intense stare.

“Fine, you caught me. I like her, okay?!” He says, blushing a brilliant shade of pink. When your mother sees that Yoongi’s expression is indifferent, she narrows her eyes at him.

“You know, don’t you?” He doesn’t say a word, instead taking your arm and pulling you beside him.

“Ma’am, I would like to get your permission to be your daughter’s boyfriend….along with Jiminie.” Considering you were secretly dating for weeks, now seems like the perfect time to ask. Go Yoongi!

“Yes, of course you can date her. You both are so caring and kind and I can’t imagine anyone more fit for the job….even though I didn’t expect two guys. It may be a little strange but I trust that you know your boundaries.” They nod, each of them hugging you tightly and giggling like children.

“We’ll make sure to treat our girlfriend with kindness and respect.” With Yoongi’s gummy smile, your heart melts. You really, really like him.

“You better, or else you’ve got another thing coming.” Your mother’s gaze is threatening enough, as the two men stiffen their backs and stand up straight.

“Loosen up, she’s just kidding. Right, ma?” She nods, laughing happily as she sees her ships coming to life before her eyes. She’s always wanted her daughter to be happy, instead of subjecting her to a life of unhappy arranged marriage. She wants to give her everything she didn’t have as a child.

“Yup. But seriously, break her heart and you’re dead.”

“Moooom.”

That night your mom leaves for work. She didn’t tell you, but you really noticed when you called out for her and she didn’t answer back, only leaving a text on her phone that she would be late. You knew this meant you were home alone with your extremely attractive boyfriends again for the second time this month.

You’re excited, but nervous. The last time the three of you were in the house like this, they made out in front of you and then made you extremely horny. Now, you could only imagine what would happen with the three of you in an actual relationship.

“Y/N, come watch netflix with us!” Jimin calls you to his room, and your eyes widen. You’ve been in their room before, but never totally alone. Your mom or dad would be in the house, but now you’re stuck with these two.

“What are we watching?” You penguin-walk to Yoongi, who hoists you up onto the giant bed. Immediately you fall back from the weight of his knees forming a little disbalance on the mattress. It’s just a tiny ditch.

“I thought you were gonna fall, be careful.” He lightly scolds you, before sitting back and getting cozy with Jimin as you stay in the middle, right between them.

“You guys are so warm.” You inhale their scents, taking in their musk and surprisingly sweet cologne. The strawberry scent must be coming from Jimin. The axe must be from Yoongi. Either way, you’re comfortable.

“No, you are.” Jimin pulls you in between his legs, peppering kisses all over your neck. Normally, you’d be turned on in the situation, but it’s completely innocent. You giggle as he tickles you with his faded blue hair and then you both get lost in each other’s eyes. You love his crescent shaped eyes, how he is a perfect mix of masculine and feminine, breaking all traditional roles of what it means to be a man in the modern world of 2020. If anything, his soft features are what makes him more “manly.” There’s no correct answer. He’s perfect the way he is, and you love the way his lips form a tiny pout, even when he’s happy.

“Just kiss already.” You both look over at Yoongi, who is more concerned with the movie playing on the screen than his two partners sharing a moment right next to him. You give Jimin a look as he leans in and finally closes the gap between you two.

#yoongi x jimin x reader #yoongi x jimin #barista #yoonmin #Poly #yoonmin x reader #hyunglinenetwork #btssmut #Smut #coffee shop #cute #btsff #yoongi #jimin #bts #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader

26 notes · View notes

purplerose244 · 4 years

Text

Lighten up

Here’s my fic for the @mlsecretsanta! So happy I joined in this year too, it’s one of my favorite events!! 😍 Hi @xlexicx! ❤ I’m your secret santa! Here’s my present for you, I hope you like it! Merry Christmas!! 😊😊

Summary: Take the high road, do not intervene. That was what Adrien said, to his friend and to himself. Then again, Chat Noir said none of that. And he really didn't like seeing Marinette sad.

Also on AO3

How to make the worst Christmas Eve, by Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Ingredients.

Seven days filled with plenty of akuma attacks, as fresh as possible, dripping with exhaustion. A couple of extremely busy hours to finish the dress to bring to the party, whipped consistently with stress and pressure considering all the important figures that were going to see it. And a big handful of disappointment, because while trying her best to ignore how out of place she was feeling during such an event – at least without wearing her special pois suit –, Marinette had almost forgotten the golden boy to add to the situation, or to be precise it was Adrien himself that hadn’t been able to come. Because that was what gave this terrible night its distinct disappointing taste.

“I can tell you all about him, he’s even more charming when he’s not into his suit!” A whistle in his ear. Lila was marching in the middle of the ballroom, waving around her black dress, the feathers on the hair pin over her head, and her long innocent eyelashes, followed by some of Marinette’s most precious friends. “He said he got in like a breeze even without getting recognized, I guess this party could only be that exclusive since even Marinette could get the tickets! Oh, but I’m still grateful!” She waved at her, grinning widely.

Right, she forgot one important part of this disgraceful recipe, an extremely generous sprinkle of lies all over. Better of hypocritical origins. She clenched her hand around her glass, the drink raised up a little. She was starting to wish he got the Cat Miraculous.

Just for the sake of a good old Cataclysm.

Marinette forced her grimace into a smile, for the sake of Alya, Rose, Nino and Juleka all orbiting around the star of the night. Yeah, of course she was. Even though it was the stylist who got the tickets from Jagged as a little Christmas present, it was all about that liar once again. She didn’t even know why she was surprised anymore.

“You’re welcome…” More unique was, the latest idea the brunette had come up with to grab attention. And that one was even more out of the line than her usual.

“You guys, I’m really thirsty, and I saw Chat pretty tired too. I’m gonna take a little break, have something to drink.” Lila snapped at her friends one of those insanely studied, absurdly accurate, innocent smiles. “I would never want my date to get tired, especially since he’s a superhero in disguise! Oh, sorry, I raised my voice but remember that this stays between us, right?” She did her bat of eyelashes, she did her little wave of her hair that was meant to be annoying only to those who knew her – ergo, only this everyday Ladybug at the moment –, and leaving her excited friends behind she headed straight towards the drink station.

Right where Marinette was. Oh no, not another war declaration. When she had decided to come to this party despite knowing her sixth ticket would had gone to her, she had promised herself not to cause an argument and to stay as far away as possibly from her. Something that Lila had deliberately decided to ignore considering how she was pondering on what to drink while giving her the smuggest look, like she had just discovered Hawk Moth’s identity and wanted her to beg for it.

Hawk Moth had to be busy today. With all the evil intentions that the stylist was feeling right now, she could had become three different akumas. Then, her phone vibrated from her purse. She read the name, and all darkness dissipated immediately. Her heart was melting way before reading.

“Getting to my rescue, my prince?” She whispered, checking the new notifications.

Adrien had sent her Nino’s video first, that alone brought a smile to her face. The DJ had been absolutely adamant that he made at least a little film about the party, to show the blonde that they were all hoping he was going to recover soon. For once that he would had been allowed to attempt to an event that had happened to include a few friends of his, he had to faint a day after the end of school for Christmas break. Exhaustion. If it hadn’t made so much sense she would had been so much angrier. And she was fuming. She was mad, and furious, and sad, and all of the sudden Christmas felt so unfair. Like after being unfairly negated so many things in life, Adrien had to be stopped by a cold.

More messages followed.

Adrien: I’m glad everyone’s having fun.

Adrien: I hope the night gets better for you, you look tense.

Adrien: See you soon :)

Of course, she had made quite a face, since Lila had started to talk about her supposed relationship with her partner. Also of course, complete goo heart. Along with a deep sadness.

An angel. Even now, while forced under the cover of his bed – with those lovely cheeks all red and lucid gorgeous eyes and perfect lips and dang Mari stop it –, like he hadn’t been stuck into his own room enough to last him for a lifetime, even now he had taken the time to worry about her. He was worried about her. What a wonderful, sweet, caring, so lovable, unbelievably kind-

“Well hello Marinette, grabbing something to drink too?” Awful, hypocritical, incredibly annoying liar that had dared to interrupt her mental praises towards her beloved Adrien. Lila put herself right next, grabbing a glass herself, wearing that smirk on top of her lips. “I am too, I’m so tired, you have no idea! I didn’t know admitting my relationship with Chat Noir was going to cause all of this fuss! I guess these people really drink whatever you tell them…” It had to bring some kind of relief to her, not having to lie to Marinette since she was perfectly aware how little integrity the brunette had in her. Then again, who knew if even this manipulative face wasn’t another lie. If it turned out under all those veils there was absolutely nothing underneath, the stylist would had believed it.

She knew engaging her was a bad idea. Take the high road, like Adrien said.

But then she noticed a little necklace hanging over the black dress. With a round bell on it. And it was enough. She put the glass down to not crush it out of frustration.

“What do you want to get out of this?”

“I’m so glad you asked, you know what feels even better than seeing you hopelessly trying to prove to everyone that I’m wrong?” Yep, good call on the glass. “Thinking of that pathetic pois superhero discovering on the Ladyblog, because let’s be real Alya can’t keep her big mouth shut even for a second, that her beloved partner is going out with the girl she hates so much.” Lila hummed with satisfaction, sipping her drink, sighing delightfully. “Two birds with one stone, bella! She won’t be able to prove it wrong either, because the stupid doesn’t even know Chat Noir’s real identity!”

Marinette had always thought that her normal life and her superhero life were separated by one giant wall in between. Then this girl had come along, managing to get all the hate from the both of sides, making her feel like double herself, and double the need for vengeance.

She tightened her fists, glaring at her.

“This is dangerous, Lila! Their identities are important, their lives are! It’s one thing messing with me or our classmates, but they’re the heroes that save us every day!”

“So glad to hear your opinion, the one I don’t care about. Well then, I think I’ll go meet with my date, Chat Noir.” Lila giggled, pointing at a random guy. “Could it be him? Or maybe him? I’m the only one who knows, after all!” She laughed, Marinette grunted. “Maybe him? How about him?”

Not her kitty. Not her partner. Not her l-

“I might have a good guess.” One cheerful, sassy, unmistakable voice erupted between them. “But please keep going, don’t let me stop you. After all, when the cat’s away, the mice will play!” Chat Noir winked at Marinette, most likely hinting at that short time of her as Multimouse. Which would had been very annoying yet kinda witty, if she hadn’t been this shocked to see him.

To see him… like this.

The mask was there as usual, the ruffled hair and the pulsing eyes too. But that wasn’t his usual costume, at least not completely. He was rocking a full black suit tailored like it had been made just for him, yet the gentle shine over the cloth and the clawed gloves still present gave it away that it was still part of his normal superhero attire. He had a bright green tie with a minuscule fantasy that looked like many tiny Cataclysms one next to each other, and his usual reinforced shoes looked less rough and more refined.

He looked good. Something about Chat Noir’s confident attitude and that certain egomaniac tendency gave it away how in a proper suit he would had looked pretty great, but this was real. This was actually happening, and Marinette found herself catching her breath.

Luckily – for once in her life and only this once –, Lila was there as well.

“Chat Noir?!?” Oh, that horrified, overwhelmed face made the stylist’s night. That perfect satisfied face cracked violently, and she was frozen on the spot.

“Oh my, it is him!!” Unluckily, for once for Lila, Alya had a special filter in her ear for scoops and even from the other side of the room she managed to hear – also the brunette had erupted into a pretty impressive and delightfully scared squeak. “You actually showed up in your costume, what happened to the secrecy? Don’t worry, I know about yours and Lila’s situation, and I promise it’s between very close friends!” She had the recorder out already, pointed out like a weapon, looking oh so hopeful.

Chat Noir grinned, flashing a wink at the phone Nino was holding up to record the scene.

“You know I’m always up for a special interview for the Ladyblog, Alya.” The holder of the fox Miraculous brightened. “But I’m gonna need a heads up, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And just as fast the glimmer died down, turning into a frown. She put a hand over her hip, her peach-colored dress wrapped tight around her torso.

“Come on, do you really have to make it difficult? I don’t actually know your identity, although I did have a look around knowing you were somewhere.” A snort.

“Yeah I was somewhere, somewhere else. You do realize I just arrived, right?”

“Of coooouuurse, you just arriiiiived.” Alya winked at him. The cat superhero stared at her blankly, taking his time to fill a glass and empty it pretty quickly. He did look pretty tired now, like he did quite the run. “… you were here as a civilian, right? You even sent those little notes to Lila, saying how beautiful she was and all the rest!” The journalist held the recorder with one hand and picked up something from her pocket. A little green note saying ‘love the feathers, you look like a queen. CN.’. And wow, Marinette could at least compliment how shameless the brunette had been.

Chat Noir peaked over it, frowning.

“… Alya I signed stuff for you, you know that’s not my handwriting.” The journalist hummed uncertainly, like she did have that thought. “Besides, as I said, I wasn’t here. I arrived now.”

“Oh you don’t have to lie Chat Noir!” At last Lila came back from whatever world she had been stuck on, pulling off that obnoxiously wide smile right towards her kitty, huh, this kitt- the kitty! “But I understand that you’re not ready, so don’t make too much of it, forget about it and enjoy the night!” Of course she couldn’t give up, it was never that easy with her.

The cat superhero simply smirked, filling his glass again.

“Thank you Lila, a very warm welcome. How about you give the same to Officer Roger and Mr. Ramier over there?” Next to the mayor, chatting happily, where the two named that had in fact appeared only in that moment. Sabrina was greeting her father with a big hug. “We had a pretty tough moment back there, they got into another argument over pigeons and laws, luckily we managed to arrive to a compromise before things escalated. Bet Hawk Moth bite his Miraculous over this one!” He snickered, emptying another cup with a satisfied sigh.

Trying to solve a conflict through words and a plan instead of destroying everything, that sounded like the Ladybug way. And there he was, her – the – kitty, looking all happy about it like he was thinking of her proud owner petting his head.

A smile came on its own, Marinette couldn’t help it, and maybe didn’t want to.

“Great job, Chat Noir.” The superhero beamed at her. Adrien’s eyes were pure and breathtaking, but the unnatural beauty of these was impressive too. So very pretty.

Alya looked like she had half the forehead from how hard she was frowning.

“But Lila said you’ve talked all night together…”

“We did! He’s just covering it up!!” Lila’s voice raised of one octave at least, judging from how hard Chat Noir had winced being right next to her. The brunette smiled at him, batting her deer-like eyelashes. “Chat, I know what’s going on, you still feel like you own something to Ladybug. But you got hurt so much by her already, and this is not fair! Don’t you think you deserve better?” She scooted closer, raising a hand over him. “Come here, come to someone that can give you what you want.” Okay was Marinette really the only one who thought this was getting weird?

Apparently not, from how promptly the cat superhero had dodged the touch. He was suddenly extremely tense, a very wary smile on his face, hands raised like he was surrendering. Somehow his usual goofiness looked almost charming today…

Or that was the suit. Yeah, definitely the suit.

“Now there, I know I’m irresistible, but I really don’t think you should get any closer.”

“Why would you get away? Do you hate me? Prove me you don’t and get over here!” Lila tried to grab him again, but it was too easy for him. “Ladybug doesn’t even love you, why all this fuss??”

“Lila, I’m telling you, it’s better for you to stay awa-”

“I said get back here!!”

“Nope, no way!”

What a weird scene, an angry fox chasing a cat in the middle of the ballroom of the most luxurious hotel of Paris, surrounded by guests now very aware of the commotion happening. Their friends, guests, celebrities, even the mayor was starting to get worried. Marinette spotted Rose and Juleka, with the former all saddened by the fight between two people that she knew and probably wanted to get along – predictable –, and Luka along with Chloe and Kagami, with the rich girl absolutely living through this – predictable and relatable.

As a fairly common scene, Chat managed at the end to step on his own tail and struggle to stay up, right as Lila finally managed to land onto his chest with a grin.

“See everyone? It was simply a little fight between sweethearts, nothing to-”

Marinette could confidently say that, in her life, she had witnessed plenty of extremely satisfying moments. Saving her city every day along with her trusty partner while helping the people she loved? Awesome. Stepping up as her own person thanks to the confidence given from being Ladybug and getting to leave a mark into her life? Incredible. Spending occasional but so precious time with the love of her life knowing that with every single moment spent together, the chance of becoming something more became at least somehow possible? Priceless.

But this one, this very specific moment when Chat Noir scowled visibly and then sneezed, loudly and very grossly, right into Lila’s face, this one could take the cake. She had never seen such a perfect sequence of moments happening in her life.

The brunette screamed, panting in pure shock, as the hero wiped his nose.

“I tried to warn you, achoo!” He took two steps back, waving his hand at her. “I’m super allergic to feathers, and you’re wearing a hair pin full of it! I couldn’t stay near you if I wanted to!” It had some weird effect, this suited up Chat sniffing with his head up in desperate search for a tissue. Both extremely him and endearing, to the point Marinette cracked a laugh when the research was fruitful and the superhero blew loudly into a paper towel.

With the white feathers on her head, the nasty green of her eyes and the absolute flushed face of her, Lila looked one with the flag of her country. For a second. One extremely Italian second.

Then, of course, the waterfalls arrived.

“That was so mean of you, you should’ve at least warned me!” Chat Noir’s simple retort was a large grimace that said ‘I tried to’ quite clearly, but the brunette was into her part now. “I thought you were kind and special, but you’re just a jerk! You wanna make me look bad! I should’ve known! Right Alya?” She turned around to get her friend’s support.

Only to meet with something that for luck of fate, when she had first transferred in their school, Lila Rossi hadn’t managed to encounter: Alya Cesaire’s inquisitory glare.

“Wait a second.” She lowered her recorder without switching it off, stepping forward with one foot. “If he’s allergic there’s no way he talked to you or even got close to you tonight! All along you told me you were chatting with him… Lila… were you lying?”

Marinette could hardly believe it. She stared, agape, but never as much as the actual liar.

“I wasn’t! Of course not, he’s making that up to make me look bad! I don’t know why he’s pulling up all of this act, he’s probably getting manipulated by Ladybug to make me look bad! And here I thought she was a friend! Besides, I bet he’s pretending the allergy!”

“Excuse me, miss.” Completely out of nowhere none other than Mr. Ramier appeared, along with Roger and Sabrina, with the latter immediately running towards Chloe – with eyes sparkling like stars at the sight of her best friend’s two chaperones. “But if I may interject, there’s no way Chat Noir is lying about his allergy. I would know, since I get akumatized quite often and he’s forced to endure my pidgeons all the time. Very sorry about it by the way.” The gentleman looked at the cat hero, who got another tissue kindly offered by Rose and simply waved his hand like it was not a big deal. Which was fair, Mr. Pidgeon wasn’t nearly the most menacing threat ever – a bit of routine in the mess that was their lives was actually nice sometimes.

That same sweet blonde and helpful girl with the pink dress gasped all of the sudden, tears shining in her eyes. Actual, genuine drops, unlike someone else’s.

“You said the feathers were artificial, that your grandma was running a charity association that wanted to erase everything made by animals in the fashion world!!” Her lip covered in peach gloss quivered vividly. “I can’t believe you would lie about that, Marinette was right!” She turned to the stylist, who couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “I’m so sorry Marinette, I should’ve known!” Juleka from behind her nodded, looking sorry.

Lila gasped, again in her overly dramatic way, shaking her head.

“How could you say that? You know I would never lie, you know me! I… I…” Marinette should had seen it coming, as soon as those vengeful eyes got stuck on her. “It’s all Marinette’s fault!” Crocodile tears once again, the stylist didn’t even have it in her to be annoyed. “She wants to make me look bad, she did ever since I came here! I don’t know why she hates me so much!” There was such a long list into her diary, but the stylist felt like it wasn’t necessary. Her friends looked doubtful. Like they were on her side again. “And you’re trying to make me feel bad, I could get akumatized! How could you?”

“You do realize I’m right here, right?” Chat Noir grinned at her, getting closer to Marinette. “I could easily take care of you while Ladybug gets here, no problem. So go along, get crazy.” Wow, Ladybug would had not approved that. Good thing she wasn’t here.

“Did Marinette drag you into this?? She is the worst!!”

“No way, Marinette’s the best! She made these awesome shades of mine!” Out of nowhere Jagged Stone interjected, cocking a wink to her favorite designer who couldn’t help the little giggle – the frequency he showed those glasses reminded her of her dad whenever she accomplished anything. “Girl the way you’re talking to her is totally not rock and roll, who do you think you are??” The Rockstar glared. And so did Fang behind him, showing all of his teeth.

All colors drained from Lila’s face, as she pointed at the rockstar.

“What- Why- He isn’t supposed to…!”

“Oh yeah, didn’t I tell you?” Chat Noir seemed to be trying his best to contain his smug aura. “Another reason I got here this late, I thought of inviting Jagged and prince Ali! Isn’t it great? They’re usually super busy and not really into random celebrations, but it turns out they’re more than happy to participate knowing one of their heroes is here. What do you know?”

Lila was at loss, going with startled eyes from the celebrity in front of her, to the royalty not too far, to the people staring judgily at her. She opened her mouth to speak, try more covers, but Alya’s lips smack interrupt her. The journalist looked like she finally had enough, turning to Jagged.

“A question. You don’t know Lila, do you?”

“This girl? Definitely not.”

“So you never wrote her a song because she saved your cat?”

“Pff, a cat? I’m allergic to cats, and I hate them, they’re so unfriendly! Well, most of them, Chat Noir is pretty cool.” Another wink was thrown at the superhero, who cocked finger guns at the superstar. It looked oddly appropriate between these two.

Alya grabbed her head between her hands, groaning loudly.

“I can’t believe it, I… I’m so stupid. Marinette.” Her eyes were so gloomy, so different from her usual self. It made them trustworthy, despite everything. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve believed you right away. I promise I’ll make up for all I did. In the meantime…” With a quick gesture, as quick as Rena Rouge would had done it, Alya grabbed Lila’s arm and dragged her forward. “We’re gonna make sure you don’t know prince Ali too, and find out where in the world where you during your vacation since, you know, it looks like you missed school without a reason! And all of my interviews on the Ladyblog, ooooh, you’re in big trouble girl!!”

“No!! Let me go!! Marinette’s lying!!” The image of the perfect girl crumbled right away, as Lila started to pull such a tantrum that Manon would had felt embarrassed for her. “It’s all Ladybug’s fault! Or Marinette’s! Or both!! And Chat Noir’s!! It’s their fault, not mine, they’re the liars! I’m not a liar! I’M NOT A LIAR!!” And like that she was dragged away without mercy, like a criminal finally getting brought to justice.

People followed the scene, Rose and Juleka still looking sorry, Nino as well while making sure his girlfriend wasn’t going to straight up murder Lila. And Marinette stayed where she was, looking at them as the prince turned around, and another tantrum was born from the exposed liar.

After five full seconds of silence, Chat Noir blew his nose into the tissue once again, so loudly nearby guests gave him weirded out looks.

But not Marinette, no. She burst into laughter.

“Oh my gosh, it actually happened! Karma happened! A Christmas miracle!” She had to wipe a tear, more relieved than happy in reality. “If this is a dream please don’t wake me up, I wanna live in this world forever!” And in that precise moment the music changed, a slow rhythm that made her smile incredulously. “Wow, really? This night everything is meant to go just right, huh.” She giggled again, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. She turned towards the hero, her actual hero, finding him staring at her. The mask covered most of his face, but was that a blush?

“… then it would be a pity going against the flow, right?” Chat Noir smirked, bowing in front of her and extending a gloved hand. “May I have this dance?”

Marinette gaped at him.

“Me?”

“This superhero has every intention to dance with the prettiest girl of the night, yeah.” Curse this flirtatious little kitty, looking like he had everything under control after pulling such a stunt against that liar. Curse herself for letting it work, as she was led in the middle of the dance floor.

The lights got softer, the song too. Even with the confrontation happening not that far in the room, Marinette found it extremely easy to simply live in this moment. Especially given that her – the… alright her – kitty turned out to be quite the dancer, pulling her along gently, a hand over her hip and the other clenched around her hand. It felt like her goofy partner was miles away from this elegant person, but at the same time something told her that this made sense. For some reason him being so kind and sophisticated made her feel like it was perfectly normal.

Marinette smiled softly, moving slowly. Savoring this instant.

“I didn’t think it was going to end up like this.” Chat Noir hummed questioning. “Dancing with a superhero after the defeat of a villain without akuma, that’s something.”

“You got pretty lucky, huh? Especially on the first part.” And there he was, ruining the mood, pulling her along as he laughed. Maybe a little too much? “… oh! Sorry!” He straightened up, snickering nervously. Looking dizzy. “I’m a little out of it tonight.”

The stylist frowned in worry.

“If you weren’t feeling good you shouldn’t have come.”

“Bet Ladybug would tell me something similar, along with the scolding of my life for getting involved into civilian stuff.” She was pondering about it. Mm, maybe she could let this one go. “I understand it, I do, and I usually would’ve been on my own without interacting with anyone, but I couldn’t keep it shut anymore… not after seeing how sad you looked.” And suddenly his eyes were serious, focused. Like there was actually a guy underneath all the jokes.

It was supposed to be a shock. It felt more like a surprise to her. A little push in an unknown right direction, unexpected yet somehow helpful.

“You did it for me?”

“I think Lila getting busted helps everyone, but yes, mostly for you.” Again with the red on his cheeks, this time it was undeniable. “I thought I could let it go, but I saw how it got on your nerves, and after a while it got on my nerves because it got on your nerves, and I guess I couldn’t get my paws out of this one huh? I thought that fox needed a little less- Oh.” Huh, apparently this kitty did have an off button. And Marinette actually grinned while holding him, her cheek over his solid chest, hands around his neck. Feeling comfortable, happy.

… familiarly happy? She frowned a little.

“How did you know I wasn’t okay? You said you just arrived.” She could feel him swallow from this close, after finally putting his hands over her back. And again that warm lightning shocked her over the skin, a pinch in the middle of her brain. Like this was a dream that had happened before.

Chat Noir snorted softly.

“Let’s say a friend told me.”

“Let’s say I don’t believe you.”

“I would never lie to you. I… I really don’t want you to be sad, ever. You’re so amazing, you deserve all the happiness you can get.” And with that he let himself go with the movement, less shy, more him as he led her through the dance.

The music was lovely, Chat was lovely, and one by one other people were joining the dance floor like they were all part of the same fairy tale. She could spot Juleka and Rose holding each other, Kagami pulling forward the arm of a very flushed Chloe with a giggling Luka following behind, Alya clearly satisfied of the dealt situation with Lila dragging her boyfriend in, who looked way too into it to say anything, putting quickly his phone in his pocket.

His phone… the video… everything.

Marinette gasped, her mind finally unlocking that everything.

The film of the party that only one person had managed to see besides the DJ. The same allergy to feathers. The same golden hair, the same gorgeous green eyes. The confidence in his ways, the poor health of tonight – he was here while he should had been recovering, this dumb reckless kitty, she so wanted to slap him and smooch him. And this emotion, this undeniable feeling of belonging that came whenever she was between his arms, dancing like they had at Chloe’s party when he had made all of her dreams coming true with one single moment.

It was so obvious. The more she thought about it, the more she felt stupid and unbelieving and so, so incredibly happy. So much it was making her tear up, so much it was burning her heart violently. So much she wanted to scream it, tell all of Paris, tell the entire the world that it was happening.

“It’s you.” It came with a whisper, without her realizing.

“Mhm? You’re kinda shivering.” She untangled herself from him, missing the warmth, melting into his big, confused eyes. “Are you okay?”

There really was no one else.

“… could you come to my house tomorrow night?” Marinette tried her best to hold her voice together, tightening her hands onto him. She could see his smile. She could see him, under the mask or with it. “I’ll have a Christmas present for you. As a thank you gift.” And just like every time with every single akuma she had met, a specific plan formed into her head, with Chat Noir by her side.

Only this time, it was a complete solo mission. The most important one.

***

How to make the best Christmas night, by Adrien Agreste.

Ingredients.

Seven days filled with plenty of akuma attacks, as fresh as possible, dripping with exhaustion. One or two – two – very generous pinches of scolding from father because of ineptitude at being absolutely flawless. And kwami, possibly cat kwami, fallen asleep on his pillow with his cheesy smelly breath directed towards him all night. Let it all fall onto the ground because of exhaustion, making him miss the Christmas Eve party where he was supposed to meet with his friends and have a great night – black cat, bad luck, har har.

Then… pick up the bowl and start over. Add an abundant thirst of revenge after watching one blue-haired girl all gloomy – and pretty, that dress wow, she really was unbelievably talented –, a fulfilled vendetta that hopefully wasn’t going to generate more troubling problems than the major one that got solved, and an invitation from said blue-haired girl for Christmas.

An actual, proper Christmas.

Chat Noir grinned widely, jumping right into the freezing air, way less fatigued than yesterday. He slept all day, regaining the strength, getting constant smug eyes from Plagg for some reasons. His father had even checked on him, maybe even sad that this year they hadn’t had Christmas at all. So he brought dinner to his bed, and they had it together. It had been somehow unsettling and nice at the same time. Last Christmas, his escape had caused a major problem, yet the solution to everything. Adrien really hoped it was going to be the same, especially for his feelings.

He stopped over a building. He could see the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery from there, and a sudden surge of worry caught him off guard. What was he expecting from this? Marinette was incredible, being invited felt like an honor alone. Was that why he was out of breath? What else was coming? His heart was for Ladybug, then why did it not doubt about helping Marinette?

A breeze caught his right under his neck, making him shiver. Ah, he was here in any case. And he was pretty sure his social skills still weren’t developed enough to let him come to a conclusion.

He jumped over the railing and landed on the small terrace at the top of the bakery, feeling his entire being immediately burst into amazement: it was beautifully decorated with Christmas lights and plants, little Christmas balls, stars, bows and little angels all over. A little table was settled with two chairs, with plenty of sweet goodness like bonbon, macarons, brownies and one wonderful Bouche de Noel. It had stopped snowing this morning, so the night was as clear as ever, shining of stars and wonder.

This was too much. It was so much that Adrien felt himself coming out of the costume in form of little tears, that Chat Noir quickly rubbed away. He faced a bully for a girl the other night, and now he was getting emotional because this precious little corner felt so comfortable he wasn’t used to it? He had to pull himself together before-

The door of the terrace opened. He took a deep breath. Play it cool, thank her, enjoy the moment. So he turned towards the sound with the widest smile Chat Noir had.

“I have to admit, this is pretty paw-some, Mari-” His voice got stuck into his throat.

This was a dream. This was the most vivid and lifelike dream he had ever had. Ladybug was stepping up from the door, eyes glimmering under the mask, wearing a majestic red dress covered in black dots. Long black gloves covered her elegant arms, her blue hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, and her pink lips were curved in the sweetest smile possible. With her flushed cheeks and the lights framing her figure, she looked like a queen.

And she stepped forward, her highness, looking pleased and even endeared by the kitty’s reaction, that still couldn’t move a single muscle.

“I’m glad you like it, I know you have a bit of a sweet tooth. And you seemed to really dig dad’s vol-au-vent that time we had Sunday brunch, so I asked him to make some. Without telling him why of course.” Dad…? Before…? “Ah, but you’re here for this, aren’t you?” Hadn’t he been completely out of himself from the daze of this apparition, maybe he would had noticed the little box into her soft hands. It was covered in a green wrapping paper, with a black bow on it.

Chat Noir blinked. Adrien blinked, because his brain was returning to him incredibly slowly but he could still hear the echo of what was happening. And he didn’t know if he was going to be able to take it. So without looking at it he grabbed the present, lips shivering.

“L… Ladybug?” And she dared to blush, like she didn’t look breathtaking already.

“J-just open it, okay?” And she dared to ask him to do something, alluring to the possibility to move or think or act – honestly it was asking a little too much from his little feline brain.

Nonetheless, after what felt like an eternity, Chat managed to trace the wrapping of the present with his claw, gently cutting the paper in the process. He grabbed an edge and discovered another box, black with a red cover. It was already perfect. But shivers caught him as he was pulling up the top, because Ladybug looking at him so intensely, so incredibly involved with him, that every movement felt meaningful. And when he finally peaked inside, his poor heart thought it was going to stop right there, just for the sake of passing away this happy.

A green branch, tender leaves, and white berries. A little mistletoe plush was waiting for him inside the box, soft looking and well made, like only one person he knew could had done with such care and dedication. So there was no stopping the gears inside his head anymore, not when everything was making this much sense all of the sudden, not while Ladybug was stepping close, putting her hands on his over the box.

Those hardworking hands, those hair as dark as night, those pretty bluebell eyes – blindness, thy name Adrien Agreste – that desire to get her closer and more comfortable with him. That feeling of ease that he thought was only meant for the closest of friends.

Ladybug smiled. Marinette smiled.

“Tikki, spots off.” In the cold night of Christmas, a red glimmering light manifested over the girl of his dreams, revealing the one he had been looking for all along. And through her lucid eyes, her goofy smile, her flushed cheeks, he could still see all of her. Because this was her. Beautifully her. “I-I thought this was the best present I could give you, after what you did yesterday and always did for me.” She laughed when Tikki flew over the present and picked it up, right over their heads. He loved that kwami. “I hope it’s good enough…?”

Her eyes fell, the slightest fear shaking the hands that were still covering his.

And Adrien felt appalled, so outraged, looking at her straight into her beautiful eyes, smiling so much he probably looked silly. But she didn’t seem to care.

“Plagg, claws in.” She knew, he didn’t know how, but she knew. Perhaps he was going to ask later. Right now, while Plagg reappeared and gave his fellow kwami a hand, still showcasing that same irritating smirk, all Adrien wanted was to take this miracle and hold on to it as long as he could. “It’s the best present of my entire life.” He let the box fall, gently grabbing her hands.

She laughed, and all of Paris felt envious of such beauty.

“Silly cat.” Marinette beamed at him. She then leaned forward, shy, glowing. And Adrien did the same, meeting her in the middle, finally kissing the girl of his dreams, feeling the glimmering joy inside of his heart outshining every single light of Christmas.

#mlb secret Santa #miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ml fanfic #fanfiction #fic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi

26 notes · View notes

bbugyu · 4 years

Text

a dragon's kingdom

he never wanted to stop learning about you, and you never knew how much you needed him by your side.

part one | part two

wc.5009 | smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, royal au, princess!reader and knight!cheol, penelope is the best character, sex constantly, it's called the honeymoon stage, unprotected sex, lots of it, lk impreg kink?, confessions mid-coitus, oops she pukes (not during sex oh my god), food consumption, mentions of death & mental instability, lots of crying

why do i care so much about lore and names and backstory and motivation. anyways i've created an entire world if you wanna know about literally any person that is offhandedly mentioned in this fic i can give u their origin story, including he horses. this part is really story heavy but also pretty sex heavy so have fun!!! also im in love with seungcheol but what's new.

"this feels strange."

you hummed, pulling out a pair of pants from a drawer and holding it up to seungcheol. "what do you mean? wearing someone else's clothes?"

he shook his head no, looking around the bedroom you had brought him to with the promise of clean pants. you had gone through all the rooms, you told him, as you led him through the castle wearing a light tunic tucked into a pair of trousers. you'd collected the clothes you liked, that fit you, and brought them to the tower, but there was plenty that didn't fit your criteria, and you were pretty sure he would fit into the clothes in the third bedroom to the left of the kitchen, past the main dining hall, a room you had discovered to be a counselmen's quarters. "you've been gone for so long, but i was at the kingdom only yesterday."

you looked to him, folding the pants over your arm. "what's it like now?"

a wash of realization caught seungcheol off guard. "my god, you've missed so much."

he changed, insisting you looked the opposite direction despite the fact that you had already seen all of him only hours earlier, and you fiddled your fingers and joked about peeking, but only stole a glance when you heard him buckling a belt that had also been found in the room. you exited the couselmen's room and he helped you onto his horse, leading her down the hall in the direction you told him. you patted down calliope's black mane as she walked alongside seungcheol, listening to him describe the castle ground and all the changes that had been made in the last decade.

"the statue, in the fountain?" you nodded when he looked at you. "it's all three of you now. they added you and the queen probably six months after your disappearance."

"that doesn't sound like father."

seungcheol paused, looking up at you. "i didn't know the king personally until only a few years ago, but he's not the ruthless leader you knew him as any more. your loss changed him."

you should have been more interested in your own father, but you couldn't help the way your mind wandered to fond memories of the flowers and gardens. "are there still lilies?"

"yes, of course," he said. "one of the back gardens was planted in your honor, right by the gates. i've never seen so many colors of lilies in my life."

you were quiet for almost too long, and seungcheol looked to you, immediately noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. "does mother go there often?"

"hey, hey hey," he instantly mounted his horse behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder gently. "yes. every day."

you inhaled sharply, blinking your eyes rapidly to quell the tears. "she used to love roses," you started.

"she still does," he confirmed, and you didn't even realize that you had mourned for her as though she were dead.

"there's a garden here," you continued, wiping at your eyes and rubbing the moisture away on the pants you wore, seungcheol's hands resting on your stomach as he listened to you. "it was almost dead when i found it, but i take care of the roses there. i'll show it to you later."

seungcheol nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek, making you smile vaguely.

"there's a stable, also," you said, sniffing your nose. "you might recognize the horses. i suppose we should bring them back with us, as well."

he faltered. "from past missions?"

"only three," you clarified, gently nudging his steed around a corner towards the kitchens. "most of them ran to the fields, but three have stayed. i've named them. one had letters carved into its armor plate, but it was damaged - i could only read valerie."

"valkyrie," seungcheol said immediately. "tan colored horse, correct? with a white diamond on her head."

you turned in his grip. "yes, exactly!"

his stomach felt heavy suddenly. "she was captain varian's steed. he trained me for years, his mission was last fall."

"i'm sorry," you said, lacing your fingers with his on your lap as you recognized his loss. you thought of a year ago, when you had found the horse. you did your best to remember who had come at that time. "though it may not be consolation, i believe he was the one penelope ran from the grounds."

seungcheol's fingers tensed between yours. "she-"

"didn't kill him," you finished. "he was a good man."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in relief, his forehead landing on your shoulder. "he was."

"i wasn't sure the horse was his, though i kept it in case he returned. the forests around here are deadly, but there's a village nearby, so i had hope..." you pursed your lips, thinking of how blasé you had always been about the men that failed to save you, not thinking at the time of the people they knew before they came. "i should have done more."

"you did what you could have," seungcheol reassured, his lips on your shoulder as he curled his arms tighter around you. "thank you for telling me."

you relished in the feeling of his arms around you, sighing as you let your head fall back against his shoulder. "i didn't realize how much i missed human contact."

you felt his breath on your neck when he let out a short chuckle. "i've never had it like this."

"neither have i," you said, adjusting to look him in the eye. he was only a breath away, his lips, his jaw, his neck. he had only arrived that morning, but your attachment to him could never get greater than it was now. you wondered if you glowed like he did in this moment - radiating gold in the streams of light from the afternoon sun. "i like it a lot."

a dimple showed itself on his cheek, and you smiled back at it. he kissed you gently, and your shoulders raised at the goosebumps it gave you. "i do, too," he said, running his lips across your cheek and down your neck.

"seungcheol," you sighed. "we just took a bath."

"and you smell divine," he said, smiling against your skin. you laughed at him, mostly because of his near flat out refusal to bathe with you earlier.

"i've drawn a bath," you had said, wearing only a satin robe as you returned to the main room. "i'd be happy if you joined me."

seungcheol was laid out on your bed, blanket covering as little as it had to, an arm laid over his face as he did his best to recover his soul after you had pulled it straight out of him twice. "go ahead," he replied, fearful of what seeing your form again would do to him. "i'll make sure no one bothers you."

you laughed, crawling onto your thick mattress to bother him a bit more. "my knight in shining armor, making sure none of the inhabitants of this abandoned castle bother me while i bathe."

"anything for my princess," he said, rolling his head towards where you laid, prodding at his chest.

"anything?"

he saw the mischief in your eyes, and god, he hated how easily he fell under your intoxicating spell. but he only hated it for a moment, before you led him into your candle-lit washroom, the flames glinting off the glistening tiles of your tub and a view of the surrounding forest through sheer curtains. all he could do was sigh in resignation as you held his hand, letting the robe fall off your shoulders.

during that bath, your name sounded like a song coming from his lips, and it fell upon your blushed ears in the most delightful way. you had never even imagined what the first time hearing your name in someone else's voice in eight years would be like, but you couldn't stop replaying that moment in your mind.

"there should be apples in a basket right inside the door of the pantry," you said, pointing to a door as you lit the candles in the kitchen. seungcheol went to the door you gestured to and grabbed a few of the red fruit, biting into one. you walked over to the window and drew the curtains, letting the sun in. you usually left them open, but the rain in the evening before made you even sadder than you had already been this week. now, opening them back up, it felt like a fresh beginning.

"i have eggs," you said, tapping your cheek, realizing you truly didn't know how to entertain guests. "lots of fruit and vegetables. there's a whole field of potatoes."

seungcheol smiled as he approached you. "whatever you want, i'm not picky. i am going to give calli some apples, though."

you nodded and smiled when he planted a kiss on your cheek, then took another bite of the apple. you watched him trot up the steps to the hall where his horse waited, and you looked around briefly before deciding to wash rice and stoke a fire.

you didn't know how to cook before you came here. you still didn't, really, just the bits of things you remembered watching the cooks in the kitchen when you and your best friend were hiding from your fathers, but it had been enough for you to learn, alone, with only a young dragon as a mentor. meat scared you still - you tried to slaughter a chicken as a seventeen year old and you were so scared of undercooking it that you had roasted it dry - but you had learned how to work with everything that popped up in the plotted fields behind the castle. with the addition of horses, you had been able to take spare jewelry you found to the village and trade for some things you needed - hay and oats, mostly, to care for them - and some things you missed, like rice and cheese. you grunted lightly as you set the heavy cast iron bowl of rice and water over a stovetop, settling the wood lid on it as seungcheol returned.

"how can i help?"

you stared at him for a moment. "you want to help?"

his eyebrows raised. "yes?"

"sorry," you said suddenly, shaking your head as you squeezed your eyes shut. "this is still weird."

he laughed, leaning against the stone wall. "take your time, princess."

"how are your knife skills?"

he pouted and shrugged. "i manage."

you laughed, walking to the pantry to retrieve some vegetables. "do you like squash? they grew like crazy this year."

you checked the rice periodically as it boiled, and you stir fried the vegetables that seungcheol chopped for you. you found another rice bowl - you had never needed more than one - and filled both with rice before frying two eggs.

"i can't believe you've been alone all this time," he said later, pulling a spoon from his mouth. "how did you learn to do all this?"

you told him about your afternoons spent in the kitchen as a child, being more of a nuisance than anything. he laughed when you told him that you had tipped over a pot of stew into the fire below, extinguishing it and creating a thick paste as the stew mixed with ash. you had gotten banished from the kitchen for a year only a few months before you were taken, but you supposed you had picked up some translatable skills during your other visits.

he asked you about your captor, the mad king that had instilled fear in your kingdom's people with your kidnapping. you told him that king edgar was driven to madness by a cruel curse, and you met his true self only after you had arrived to his kingdom - the kingdom whose people abandoned it in fear of the dragon - where he broke down and clutched you. you reminded him of his own daughter, he had said, a beautiful princess by the name of penelope. he said he never knew what came of her, but you knew she was the one that had been cursed.

"the dragon," seungcheol started, his breath catching. no wonder you shared such a close connection with her.

you nodded. "he thought he was crazy for hearing her voice in his head. she was trying to tell him the whole time."

you were quiet when you told him that the late king's madness is what killed him, only a year after you had arrived.

it was his idea to send calliope back to the kingdom with a letter. he was positive she would make it on her own - she had made the trip several times, despite the king forbidding seungcheol from attempting to save you until now. "scouting missions," he explained when you raised an eyebrow at him, his tone unconvincing. he understood why you wished to stay, and he really could not deny the allure of living in a private castle with you for a little while, but he worried that his delayed return would make everyone assume the worst.

"i could write a letter," he said, to tell them what had happened and that you needed time to wrap some things up here, gather the things that should come back with you. "or you could, my princess, if you're hoping for a more dramatic return."

you were laying in the grass, watching the sun reflect orange against the clouds as it began to set over the horizon, using seungcheol as a pillow. you hummed, rolling to lay on your stomach and plucking a blade of grass to inspect. he watched you, and tucked your hair behind your ear as you thought. "you should write it, i think. they might come to collect us if i do. should we send her off in the morning?"

he nodded at you, his hand still on your cheek. you leaned your head into it, craving the way he held you suddenly.

there were countless days where you had lain similar to where you were now, in the grass clearing surrounded by red rose bushes, the earliest times spent sobbing until your throat was sore and your eyes swollen while you came to terms with being truly alone here. now, though, you laid with your savior and lover, and his presence alone changed the atmosphere. suddenly, these roses that were a source of painful memory for you had an air of romance to them.

"should i tell them?" you wondered aloud. "that i chose to stay all these years?"

seungcheol's thumb glided across your cheek bone. "do you think they would understand?"

your eyebrows crinkled. "you know them better than me, now," you said, ripping the grass in your fingers to pieces. "i know mother would, but i'm not sure about father."

"i think he would," he said quietly. your eyes met his. "heartbreak breeds empathy. i'm sure he would even forgive king edgar if you told him his story."

you considered that for a moment. "maybe i should write the letter, then."

with calliope in the stables, penelope flew the two of you back to the tower for the evening so that you could figure out what all to write, but it was back in that garden the next evening, laying in that same spot, where seungcheol's fingers dug into your waist as you rode him, the sky painted pink and purple behind you. your hips rolled on his, your blouse unbuttoned too low and your pants discarded somewhere they shouldn't be, and you watched his neck stretch against the green grass, a bruise from your biting the previous day showing itself directly over a bulging vein. he filled you in a way that felt new every time, and you sighed, your hands against his bare chest pushing yourself up off him, only to sink down again repeatedly.

his hands tensed on you as he groaned, trying his best to hold out for your second release, but you were making it incredibly difficult for him. you leaned back, palms on his thighs as you lifted yourself off him, and you would never forget the erotic noise that fell from his lips as you seated yourself deeply.

"princess," he groaned, his hands hungrily running down your thighs. "i won't last much longer like this."

the title read more as a pet name, and you couldn't help but clench at the need in his voice, making him choke. "god, me neither."

"please," he gasped out, eyes pleading. "please, can i-"

you nodded desperately, and it took him only seconds to sit up, crossing his legs behind you, cradling you in his arms as he rolled his hips up into you. your jaw dropped in a silent moan, and it took a moment for your vocal chords to catch up, but it wasn't long before you were making all sorts of embarrassing noises for him.

"baby," he panted, his lips pausing their work against your throat. "oh, god, i'm gonna cum."

"yes," you begged. "please. please, seungcheol."

he groaned into your neck, and you whined as you felt him shoot into you, spurring your own orgasm. your throbbing walls milked him dry, and the two of you were panting as you came down, clutching each other in a garden.

you were grateful that he didn't comment on the way you practically waddled the rest of the evening, but you never noticed the proud look on his face whenever he watched you. he did that to you, he thought. and you wanted him to do it to you again and again and again.

each morning, when seungcheol woke with your bare form draped over his side, he felt like the luckiest man on the planet, and you couldn't help but smile when you woke to his quiet and gentle ministrations against your neck, his hands warm against your skin as he pulled you closer to him.

"my darling," he muttered against your throat, adoring the way you felt in his arms, and his honey coated voice made you drunk with desire despite the sleep in your eyes. "when will i ever get enough of you?"

you giggled as you reached for him, making him moan when your hand made contact with his member. "perhaps we'll slow down in a year."

seungcheol thought that sounded okay, but when you wrapped your warm mouth around him, it suddenly sounded too soon.

there was clothing you would miss too much, you told him. the tunics you wore as comfort for years, the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, and god, the trousers. you had never been allowed to wear them before, but the convenience of fewer, less cumbersome layers proved itself again and again, especially now that you had a reason to undress more often.

"i think you look beautiful," he announced matter of factly, seated in the floor only two feet away from you, when you said offhandedly that the dresses probably suited you more. "now and always."

you smiled at him as you folded the clothing into saddlebags. "you're not so bad to look at either," you said, letting him lean over the pile of clothing to kiss you.

the more seungcheol told you about the kingdom, the more you itched to return. you missed the trees and parks surrounding the castle grounds, the cobblestone streets that you would secretly wander down, and you especially missed the way people would smile at you and ask if you were away from the castle alone.

"of course," you would reply, exchanging coin for a snack of bread despite the baker's insistence that you take it for free. "do you think the guards would have let me if they knew?"

the people were your main reason to return. you thought of the citizens that you hadn't seen in so long. you wondered how the children you remembered coming into the world had grown up. you wondered how the shops managed. you asked seungcheol about some, the ones you could remember, and he happily told you the bakery a few blocks away from the back garden gates of the castle was doing well.

you missed your family. with the promise of seeing them soon, your heart ached, even if you had felt spiteful towards them in your youth. you would never agree with everything they did - thus was the nature of an ever evolving world - but you couldn't help but remember the times they had laughed with you. while they had expectations for you, they still cared for you. they still raised you. they still loved you unconditionally.

you missed everyone you saw every day, all the other inhabitants of the castle. your cousin, whose parents died in war when he was only a child, but always had a devil may care attitude anyways. the cooks and help you bothered, but always laughed at your antics. your handmaiden, who had always kept a close eye on you, even if she never told the king about your secret excursions. you thought of your father's right hand man and closest friend, advisor kim. you thought of his son, whom you had been raised with in the castle. he had always been your best friend, your beacon of common sense, and your slightly reluctant partner in crime. you spent much of your long years away daydreaming about his laugh and hugs.

"mingyu," you said, trailing off slightly. you were sitting in the shade of a tree, watching seungcheol throw knives at a target. "is he well?"

"advisor kim?" he adjusted his posture, grunting slightly as he put a telling amount of force behind his throw. "as well as he can be, i suppose. we don't speak much."

"not advisor kim," you said, brows furrowed. "his son. he's around our age."

seungcheol looked to you, his eyes softening. "oh, princess, i'm so sorry." he paused as he kneeled before you, putting a hand to your cheek. "mingyu's father passed six years ago. he's been the king's advisor ever since."

he held you as you sobbed against him, mourning the man you had referred to as your uncle for most of your childhood, and your heart shattered as you thought of all the loss mingyu had endured.

he was smart, and it made sense to you that the king asked him to succeed his father, though you thought it a little cruel. mingyu had always been the most well read person you knew, and was the reason you had decided to make a mission of reading every book in your stone prison. he always had excitedly told you about the latest novel he'd read, or what he had learned in the political journal he'd snuck from his father's office, eyes shining and baring the wolf-like grin you adored. you never understood it back then, but now, having reread most of the books you had access to, you couldn't wait to get your hands on anything he would recommend to you when you could ask him in only a few short days.

you asked that you spend an afternoon with penelope, and seungcheol respected your time with her, despite the boredom that itched at his legs while he sat in your tower alone. he counted your paintings for the umpteenth, wondering how had you done this for so long. he decided he would go check on the horses.

you asked penelope if she truly wished to stay. "we could find someone to help you," you said. "i'm sure father has someone that can reverse the spell."

sweet princess, her warm voice rang in your ears despite her never opening her mouth. i've no family, no subjects, and no sense of humanity.

you chewed on your cheek, knowing your wet eyes gave you away. "you have me."

she chirped, nuzzling her nose against your arm. and for your companionship all these years, i am grateful. but punishing the wicked is my duty, i have accepted my fate and so should you.

"i accept it," you said, wiping at your face with the sleeves of your dress. "but i'll remain unhappy with it."

penelope's sweet giggle was your favorite thing to hear in your mind, for you could almost imagine the woman that it once belonged to. do visit sometime. though i'd prefer if you left the knight at home.

you laughed despite the tears streaming down your face, and your hand ran over her snout. "you would like mingyu more, anyways."

there were three horses to bring back with you, but only two riders. due to this fact alone, seungcheol told you it would likely take a full day to return to the kingdom.

"maybe longer," he thought aloud, his wandering eyes finding yours as you leaned against a post in the stable. "we might have to camp a night."

"leave in the morning, arrive the next?" he nodded at your question. "that's not awful. it's hard to believe that i've been this close to you this whole time."

seungcheol agreed with you, wishing that he had gone against the king's orders and found you sooner, especially when your fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "if only i had known how close i was to bliss, i would have been by your side for years."

you sighed, content, and wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek landing on his firm chest as he leaned into you.

the first time the phrase i love you came from him, he was curled over you in your bed. your hands were digging into his hair, his lips were slotted over yours, and you were trying your best to ignore the stinging in your eyes as he pushed into you again, the words hushed against your mouth.

you looked up at him, shellshocked, but he never took your silence as judgement. "i love you," he repeated. "more than i've ever loved another person."

a moan was forced from you with a combination of his words and his movements, and it jump-started your confession. "i love you, too, my knight."

his forehead rest against yours, slick with sweat, as he slowly drove himself into you. your thighs ached, partly from the repeated trips up and down the stairs as you packed, but mostly from the way he gripped the backs of them, pushing them until your knees were nearly at your shoulders. the angle let him too far into you, you thought. if anyone were to die from feeling too much pleasure, it would be you, in that moment, as seungcheol bit at your lower lip and muttered sweet nothings into your mouth.

after nearly a decade of ruling a lonely kingdom, you were so close to returning to the castle in which you were raised. you had set the chickens free from their coop, your horses were prepared for the journey, and your stomach ached at the thought. your nerves got the better of you as you emptied your stomach of its contents behind a tree.

"it's okay, my love," seungcheol said, his hands pulling your hair behind your shoulders and rubbing your back. "i'm right here."

"damn shame," you choked out, catching your breath. "i really enjoyed that breakfast."

he did his best to not laugh despite your joking tone. he stayed by your side as your head swam, and asked if the ride back should be delayed.

"no," you shook your head, accepting the water he handed you. "if we stay a day, i'll make excuses to stay forever. i'll be okay."

he recognized the defeat in your words. despite the weakened state you had woken up in, you were right. this place felt like paradise, and you never wanted it to end, but you had a kingdom waiting for you.

penelope watched over you both, laid out in the grass as you made your final preparations, and you wrapped your arms around her neck as you held back tears.

"i'll visit. i promise."

seungcheol wrung his fingers behind his back as he watched you speak with her quietly. he could never quite shake his fear of the majestic being (he had squeezed his eyes shut and clung to you whenever she had flown you two to the tower), and he had a feeling that she disliked him due to their first impression, but he knew you loved her like a sister. then, the dragon's deep firey eyes moved to meet his, her voice creeping into his mind for the first time, causing a chill to run up his spine.

protect her in my stead.

he put a hand over his heart and nodded, and when the dragon broke eye contact, he felt as though he finally understood her.

seungcheol kept a close eye on you as you rode river, a horse he couldn't remember the original name of, but that you named after the location at which you found him. he vaguely remembered the man that rode him before, but he was one that seungcheol had never liked much. every time you swayed slightly, he insisted on taking a break so you could lay down, but you waved him off, not wanting to delay your return any more than you already had.

"oh, dear seungcheol," you said, a smile on your lips. "you will be such an empathetic king one day. good thing i'll be there to make the hard decisions."

he couldn't argue - he never could. you were wise beyond your years and more observant than the people he debated against at home, most of which with whom his arguments ended in him threatening to fight. but with you, he always understood the deep thought and logic behind your words. you had a way of speaking that calmed conflict instead of fostering it, and for that reason alone, he thought you were destined to rule, and he would happy to be by your side as you did.

#YAAAAAA #i tried to make this make sense as an ending even though ive literally already written half of part 3 #anyways idk what to call this series if you have an idea lmk!#part three introduces So Many People yall just you WAIT!!!!#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #choi seungcheol scenarios #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol smut #scoups scenario #scoups imagines #scoups smut #cheollie #i wrote dis

119 notes · View notes

power-of-plot · 4 years

Text

Armin Arlet x Fem! Reader. Oneshot. -Strong-

The first paragraph is purely a small introduction, just in case you wanna go straight to the fic :)

First of all, thanks for reading this! So! i often considered posting but i'm insecure, today i somehow got the confidence and courage to post -definitely not due to watching anime motivational speeches-. I wanted my first post to be something special so i dived deep down into my thoughts for a couple hours, i'm pretty happy with my choice so hope you enjoy it! My apologies if this sucks.

WARNINGS: Some sadness ig? -Armin being a pure soul. Fluff

Summary: Armin suddenly gets an injury during ODM gear training. After Reiner and his protective nature lend a helping hand, you see beyond the walls of his stoicism, people around him made his lack of strenght clear as day and he seemed to accept it but you never wondered if that caused him any pain at all. He needs to know everything has more than one meaning including what is called strenght, you gladly stay by his side to remind him different doesn't mean wrong.

Year 848 three years after the Colossal titan's misterious appearance, in Paradis Island Keith Shadis trained and yelled his lungs out at what soon would be the 104th Cadet Corps. Like any other day, the young cadets rutinarily trained to master the ODM gear, it all would have been the same as other sessions if it wasn't for Armin Arlet, your close and femenine looking friend who in a reckless (and failed-) attempt of proving himself strong to his group discretly tried performing a complex manouver resulting in him crashing into a tree. The few people ahead of him who stopped momentantarily to admire the manouever slowly resumed their way to the target they've had been assigned, just after a couple minutes of trying to walk bearing the pain the silhouette of someone along with the sound of gas and wires pulling something was getting closer by the second at the injured male. "Who's t-.. oh no.." Being around that person for so long made his oceanic eyes know who that brawny body and short blond hair belonged to inmediately, his deep voice shouting erased all the doubt. "Armin!" Reiner said rushing towards him as soon as his feet touched the the grass. As he looked for injuries, finding a twisted ankle, scrapes and bruises; Armin confirmed his suspicions: Reiner had dropped on what he was doing again just to help a single person. Right when he thought the guilt couldn't turn bigger he heard another familiar voice, this one belonged to a female. "Reiner! I saw you going back, what happened? Wait- Armin?!" Your voice turned alarmed after your (e/c) eyes catched a glimpse of your friend's characteristic golden hair, as if that would magically heal his injuries you rocketed towards your comrades at full speed. The crash- landing was rather ungraceful but it was merely trivial compared to an injured friend "(Y/N) are you-" Reiner held out his arms as he walked towards you but you ran past him leaving him standing alone with his arms opened like a rejected boy "Armin!!" You crouched down to him as it seemed he couldn't stand up, worrying you even more "...Hey (Y/N)... what are you..." His glance went lower as the guilt and shame's hand pushed his head down "What do you mean what am i doing? I noticed Reiner was going back from the front and i couldn't find you!- Hey what's wrong?" You asked after noticing a hint of sadness in his eyes, tilting your head and resting your forearms on your knees "Nothing, i must have hit my head that's all.." -because i dared prove something even myself knew full well- He replied blunty, making an adition mentally. His analytic mind was acting as a double ended weapon, either overnalyzing each and every one of his flaws or making the weight his frail shoulders were already carrying heavier. "Armin get on" Reiner said kneeling down turning his back to Armin so he could get on "Hm? It's not necessary, i-i'll just take my time to- ah!" Without further asking the muscular soldier turned around scooping your friend up from the ground into his arms bridal style, his eyes fixed on the grass and his lips released a soft sigh as embarrasment was displayed on his face. In other situation you'd have joked about how he looked cute being held like a baby but a hunch plus his face kept you completely from doing so. "You want to recover fast, don't you?" Reiner asked preparing his equipment to propulse himself again "Y-yeah but why.." "You'll only worsen your condition if you try walking, bear with it just for a while. Besides, what kind of soldier would i be if i left a friend behind knowing i can help him?" His hazel eyes noticed you were about to say something so he remained still to let you get close "It's okay don't be so hard on yourself i just crashed on the ground a moment ago, how did you call it the other day..? You didn't make a mistake, it was a happy accident! (Armin is Bob Ross.) How did you even find out about that manouever anyway?" "I've been analyzing the instructor's movements for a while now..." You deduced Reiner would take him to the infirmary wich he confirmed with a nod after you asked and so, it didn't take a single second for you to decide you'd go with them. The three of you flew and swung across the forest though it seemed like it only was you and Reiner, Armin was so quiet for a moment you even thought he was asleep.

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

"..Thank you very much Reiner" The blond thanked him now lying on his bunk, his ankle was bandaged up and his minor injuries were treateed "No problem, don't do anything until you're sure it won't hurt you got it?" "Don't worry Reiner i'll keep an eye on him 'till he's good as new!" You said cheerfuly with a smile as you sat by Armin's side, not caring a bit you were of the few girls in there. Once Reiner walked to his own bunk with Bertholdt you turned to Armin with a curious look "So what're you thinking about, you've been very quiet so it must be serious. Any new interesting thing about the outside world?" "Not really." His response was blunt again, something was definitely on his mind otherwise you couldn't explain why he wasn't as talkative as always. As he quietly stared at the matress above him you tried figuring out what could be bothering the boy since it was a lost cause trying to make him say it, you learnt this after countless tries, thankfully you could always ask for some help with Mikasa; her skills at everything including reading people were so good it was almost frightening. She wasn't there at the time and you couldn't rely on the others forever, a small leap of faith wouldn't do any harm, would it? There was only one thing you could think of. "Armin you are not weak." Your (e/c) eyes looked straight into his blue ones, silence reigned between you two before he hummed softly as if trying to deny "Why so?" It was as you suspected, he was blaming himself for making a simple mistake (-rolling girl vibes- sorry xd). You sighed resting your back on the headboard as your hand gently grabbed his forearm "You know it's not a bad thing to make mistakes, it's an everyday thing" "If we do become actual soldiers we'll risk our and the other's lifes everyday. This training is hard to make us strong, to make sure we don't make a single mistake that could lead to a tragedy" "You are not weak Armin." Your voice reasured in a firmer but gentle tone, he believed in what he had proof of, you would give him the proof he needed. Before he had the chance to turn on his side your hand grabbed his shoulder, making you two lock glances again, for your surprise small tears were forming on the corner of his eyes "I'm sorry.." "D-don't apologize it's okay! Come on let me help you what are you..?" He sat up shaking his head refusing to let a word out even when the tears slipped down his cheeks, it was painful to see Armin weep yet not ask for help, you've had been told he was like this since his childhood but it still was hard to believe and who knows if his overthinking made dealing with things on his own easier, he wouldn't try comforting himself. You sighed placing your hand on his shoulder and moving your thumb caressing the skin beneath his clothes, small muffled sobs could be heard coming from him "After that day on Shinganshina.. hundreds of people were sent there as if they were able to fight the titans, they didn't care if they were kids or elders- my grandfather went in my place, i know it wouldn't have made much of a difference but" He made a pause to try making his breathing go back to normal and hold back his tears, leaving just a small trace under his eyes "But he raised me, he gave me a name.. and i simply let him go straight to his death- i didn't make any effort to tell him i would go because i was scared.." You had to lean closer to listen clearly to what he was saying since he didn't want to drag anyone's attention besides yours "Sometimes i wonder what kind of things must have he felt when he realised he'd die alone..? I want to become a soldier to keep that from happening again, even though i'm just one it'd make a difference if only i.. wasn't such a weak coward" As he spoke you could almost feel the weight of his guilt resting on your shoulders for a moment, had he always been hiding in a shell? Ever since he was a child? A tear sprouted from the corner of your eye imagining how many times he suffered silently. You put your finger to your lower lip as you analyzed what your next move should be, after all it was Armin you were talking about, not all words would have effect on him "Strenght... physical strenght is not the only important thing, YES it is important in a soldier but the mind also matters! I can't lie, you get scared easily but so do i!. What about the snake from the other day? Someone had to remove it from your leg after you paralyzed but you were brave enough to not kick or scream in panic" Let's accept it you sucked at motivational speeches, your attempts usuallly ended up making him chuckle but it was some progress taking in mind you had no idea how to comfort him at the beggining. This time was no exception, he grew a tender smile but it faded away in matter of seconds "Come on Armin, you may be a little slim but what you don't have here-" Your hands abruptly dropped on his arms specifying you refered to muscles, then, your middle finger poked his forehead making him flinch "You have it here" "..What was that f-" He was cut off by your finger presisng against his lips "Shush- you are smart, incredibly smart you just have to see it! We all fall on our butts and feel scared of small things sometimes but that is what makes us humans, if we didn't feel fear or anything at all we'd be just like the titans!" You felt impressed of your own words, the look on his face made it clear he echoed the feeling. You wathed him move with his hands towards you before pulling you into one of the warmest hugs you've ever experienced; he held you so close and tightly you could feel his heart beating against you. "Thank you." His head rested on the crook of your neck, the gold strings of his beatiful hair falling over his face and tickling your nape slightly. You corresponded the gesture by eveloping him into your arms, slowly moving your palm up and down on his back "No problem....... Christa-"

Oof! That was long, congratulations if you read the whole thing!

#attack on titan #armin x reader #aot fanfiction #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert

25 notes · View notes

mieran-sanctuary · 4 years

Text

Update

Hey guys. It’s been a long time since last I posted actively here, and with my return, I figured I could update Tumblr a little bit of the most noteworthy stuff that’s been happening since I poofed in 2019.

For anyone interested, you can read a life update from my side under the cut below.

I honestly have no idea how to get everything that’s happened down in words. To explain it all in a simplified way. It’s been one hell of a ride, but I’ll try to summarize it quick and easy.

It all technically started in the summer of 2019. My girlfriend and I lived in our own apartment when we learned that her already sick mother, had been diagnosed with a very rare type of cancer. Over time we’d also learn that they would never be able to find the source of it, leaving out surgeries as an option. We simply did not know what to remove to help fix it. It was pretty harsh news, on top of my girlfriend’s dad also having a serious heart attack the year prior to this.

Ever since then, our lives have been more unpredictable than ever. We’ve never really been able to fully relax or settle down since then. All we’ve ever been able to do these past two years is taking it day by day, or hour by hour.

But our lives kept going as usual, but with the outbreak of COVID-19 in the beginning of 2020, it was decided that we would go back home to our families. So I was picked up by my family, while my girlfriend returned to hers.

Some of you may already know that I’ve struggled with mental illness and physical weakness half my life, preventing me from functioning normally and has been a big stopper in my art life in general. Well, after I came back home, I started to suffer a lot from gods know what. I started to get so physically ill and scared, that I went to the emergency room seeking help. I was hospitalized shortly after to make sure I had people around me 24/7 and get me back up on my feet. I was signed out after a couple of weeks, feeling much better, but that was when the anxiety kicked in, more harsh than I’ve ever experienced it. I’ve never felt so horrible in my entire life before. It didn’t take long until I was back in the emergency room and hospitalized for another three weeks. (Making it five weeks spent there in total during two months)

I managed to get through it with lots of help. Breaking through barriers I’ve been stuck with all my life since I’ve never had people around to support me like that before. It gave me the safety I needed to grow more stronger mentally.

After that, 2020 went on, but the situation with my girlfriend’s mother was all over the place, leaving us on edge most of the time. All I could really do was trying to be there for them and give support in any way I could. It was also during that summer my grandfather suffered from a heart attack after being ill for a while. This turned out to become another wild roller coaster of ups and downs. We thought he would be much better after a surgery, to then suddenly get way worse.

My girlfriend and I returned to our apartment in September 2020, as she needed to continue her education. We tried to keep it somewhat normal, but we were still kept away from our internet activity. My grandfather would get worse and hospitalized the next months, now lying on his deathbed at this point.

And then, on December 3rd, my girlfriend got a phone call from home that evening, saying that her mom had gotten worse to the point they had to perform an emergency surgery within the next 1-2 hours. There was a slim chance she would survive, and even if she did, they were unsure she’d last many days after.

We took a plane back to her family early the next morning. She survived the operation and got “better”, but we were told she didn’t have much time left. But against all odds, we would eventually get her out of the hospital and back home to celebrate Christmas, New Year’s eve, and my girlfriend’s birthday. All from a hospital bed we had set up in one of their living rooms.

My grandfather passed away on December 7th, and I took a plane back home to attend his funeral on the 18th, saying my final goodbyes, before returning to my girlfriend and her family to celebrate Christmas and stay with them.

And after so much pain and fighting, being told she’d only survive for a few weeks, so many hardships and obstacles, 20+ different chemotherapies in only a year... my girlfriend’s mother passed away in January 2021 after holding on for a year and a half.

She was one of the strongest people I’ve ever known, and after a lifetime of fighting illness, she has finally found peace.

I... honestly don’t know how to put things into words. My grandfather, my girlfriend’s mother... Hopefully the way I’ve summarized it doesn’t sound too cold. There is simply too much to be told about both of them, but I try to keep it very short and simple.

We’re still recovering from our losses, the war against cancer and illness, fighting some pretty bad financial issues that follows, and we’re not sure when our lives will return to something close to normal.

But we will try. And I really want to try and return to art. Including some activity on Tumblr where I focus on DA:I related stuff, as I never really got to express myself fully of that world and my OCs there.

I’ll just decide to end my writings here, and hopefully it’ll shed some light on where I’ve been, what’s been going on and why it might take some time to return.

But I hope I can get back to it soon. Thank you so much for reading this long wall of text and for your time. I sincerely hope you’re all hanging in there in these absurd and insane times. Please take care and look after yourselves, and may 2021 be more gentle towards us.

#Mieran writes #Long post

10 notes · View notes

icycream-catqueen · 4 years

Text

Kindling (When You’re Burning Low)

Cinder would rather burn herself out than risk a low grade; fortunately, Neo knows how to make her relax.

Rating: T

Tone: Some angst, lots of supportiveness, and a fluffy ending

Word Count: ~5,000

Important Tags: College AU, Established Relationship

I was gonna post this before now but I had problems with writing it and I was nervous about participating in a ship week especially when I only have something written for one prompt, and also my cat was sleeping on me for five whole hours earlier tonight while I was trying to finish up and as everyone knows it is a crime to disturb a snoozing kitty cat. I hope it still counts. ^_^;

Considering it’s pretty long, I only have an excerpt (the first scene I wrote for this fic, actually) on this post; the whole thing is, of course, over on AO3!

On this fine Saturday afternoon, Cinder was taking advantage of the lounge in the dorm suite. The coffee table was half-claimed by various books and notes while Cinder herself was settled at the same end of the couch, her laptop perched on the arm of it and her right side pressed closely against the suede upholstery as she struggled with the perfect phrasing for her essay. Failure was never an option for her, and even the slightest error would lead to it when it came to this class. She was running on pure caffeine by now, from a supposedly unhealthy amount of coffee. This was her third or fourth solid day of being awake. After the first night, she’d moved her setup from her room to the lounge to help her stay more alert. Winter and Emerald had both tried to tell her what was best for her wellbeing, but she’d firmly shut down their arrogance; she knew her own limits, and she needed to get this stupid project done. Neo, thankfully, had been out of town from Thursday morning to last night, and when she’d come back to the suite, she’d trudged straight to her room and shut the door. Cinder had only seen a couple brief glimpses of her since. Just as well, considering Cinder couldn’t intimidate her into letting her be like she could to Emerald and Winter.

At the moment, Emerald and Winter were both out of the building. They’d each probably told her what they were doing, but she hadn’t bothered to remember it. Neo was apparently still asleep, which was a bit odd but not enough so to risk seeing the pitiful kicked-puppy expression that appeared when her sleep was disturbed. Still, if she wasn’t up and about in two hours, it would be worth it to check on her mental and physical health.

Speak of the devil, Cinder heard a door open behind her. She didn't bother to look, though, until she realized the shuffling footsteps were approaching the couch instead of the kitchen, bathroom, or shower. She took a brief glance, then did an immediate double take because Neo looked absolutely miserable. Her hair was unbrushed and her eyes were dull. The oversized black sweatshirt (which Cinder recognized by the fiery orange phoenix on the front as one of her own that had mysteriously vanished a few weeks ago) and the brown and pink plaid pajama pants were probably what she'd worn to bed the night before, and she hadn't even bothered to put on socks. It was worrying to see her in such a state.

"You certainly look worse for wear," Cinder commented. Neo pouted at her as she slowly made her way to the couch and sank to the cushions. Before Cinder could react, Neo flopped down, squirmed to lay her head in her lap, and rolled onto her back. "I'm busy," Cinder told her sternly.

Neo's response was a soft and pitiful keening sound. She fumbled to grab Cinder's left wrist, staring up at her with pleading doe eyes.

"Neo. I'm busy," Cinder repeated. Neo whined and tugged on her wrist, so Cinder rolled her eyes and stopped resisting, curious about what she wanted. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she was definitely taken by surprise when Neo gently guided her hand under the hem of her sweatshirt and pressed it against her lower stomach.

What is she trying to accomplish here? Cinder raised an eyebrow at the woman in her lap. Neo let go of her wrist to sign something at her. The odd angle made it hard to translate, so it took a few seconds for Cinder to understand what she was asking for and why.

"I suppose I can take a short break, if you're really in that much pain," she relented. "You're lucky you're cute," she added as she carefully activated her Semblance.

The reaction was instant. Neo sighed with relief at the warmth, eyes full of soft gratitude and affection. Cinder rubbed slow, small circles over her stomach, feeling the smaller woman go languid under her touch. After a few more seconds, Neo's eyes fluttered closed.

"Is this warm enough?" Cinder asked. Neo nodded, a content smile playing across her lips. "Just ten minutes."

Neo opened her eyes and pouted at her.

"There is a reason I've been awake for," Cinder checked the time on her laptop, "about eighty hours now." Neo looked positively outraged.

"You need to sleep," she signed—easily decipherable now that Cinder had gotten a little more time to adjust to her current perspective. Not that the message was very appreciated.

"No, what I need is to finish this ridiculous project so I can move on to my two remaining essays, do all the work for a 'group project' because the rest of my assigned group are immature and unmotivated idiots, and study for my three exams this week," Cinder retorted.

"When are your essays due?"

Cinder elected not to answer, since admitting the due dates were two and three weeks away respectively wouldn't help her against Neo's accusatory glare.

"Your group project?"

Okay, so maybe it hadn't technically been assigned yet and was scheduled to be due in a month and a half, but all the information was in the syllabus. Cinder's class was full of imbeciles, and somehow she always got stuck in a group with some idiot or another who didn't understand what a lesbian was, so she was getting it out of the way to avoid interacting with anyone.

"Are all three of your exams actually this week?"

Two of them, and one of those barely counted more towards the final grade in the class than a small quiz. Her continued silence was answer enough; Neo knew her too well.

"You're going to burn yourself out again." Neo's eyes were unbearably sad, so Cinder looked away.

"I'm fine," she dismissed the concern. A hand grabbed her chin and yanked her head down so her eyes met Neo's again.

"I watched you collapse in the middle of campus last year, and I almost got in trouble for pulling a knife on the paramedics to make them let me stay with you. I got a scared video call from Winter four months ago because you fainted in her fancy rich-person hot tub and nearly drowned," Neo reminded her. “Do I need to go on?”

"I can handle it this time," Cinder insisted, growing agitated. Neo took a calming breath before responding.

"No you can't. You always say it but you never can. You end up in an exhausted daze. You work yourself into a frenzy. You get into fits of rage...which honestly scare me."

"I would never lay a hand on—!" Cinder was cut off when Neo pressed a finger to her lips.

"Not for myself. I'm scared you'll lose control and take it out on yourself again," Neo corrected her. "You haven't in a while, but..." Neo trailed a hand down Cinder's left arm, tracing her scars.

"I just...I need to...I have to keep working. I can't let myself fall behind. I can't..." Cinder faltered. Neo sighed.

"I know," she acknowledged. She knew about the past, knew why Cinder relapsed into these desperate attempts to excel, to stay ahead. "But it's pointless if you destroy yourself trying."

"I've only ended up being sent to the hospital three times since I started college," Cinder argued. Neo was unimpressed.

"Congratulations! And you've managed to barely avoid hospitalization how many times now?"

"I—that isn't relevant!" Cinder hissed. Neo scowled.

"Really? It's not? How many times have you ended up so exhausted that you were bedridden for days? How many times have you gone into a mental decline because you were incapacitated? And how many more times are you going to make me watch you suffer like that?"

"If you want to leave me, just get it over with!" Cinder spat bitterly. Neo's eyes widened, hurt and shocked. Cinder flinched, realizing she'd crossed a very important line. "I didn't mean...I don't know why I said that."

"An abandonment complex, emotional instability, a mess of insecurities you mask with your ego, previous girlfriends who couldn't handle you or only wanted your body...and like I've been saying, you need sleep,” Neo replied, recovering. "Also, my cramps?"

"What?" Cinder realized she'd subconsciously deactivated her Semblance at some point and quickly remedied that. "Oh. Sorry."

"I'm going to make a deal with you," Neo informed her abruptly. Cinder raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"What kind of deal?"

"The 'ridiculous project' you're trying to finish. Tell me about it, and I'll explain," Neo replied. Cinder clenched her teeth at the mere mention of it.

"It's an assigned experiment, a five to ten-page report on it, and an oral presentation. And the professor hates me. He goes out of his way to make every class, every test, and every assignment hell for me. I have to work harder than anyone so he can't get away with failing me out of spite. If I make even one mistake..." she growled.

"When is it due?"

"The day after tomorrow. It was assigned two weeks ago, but three days ago he realized he 'accidentally' gave me the wrong experiment. In other words, he's making me do a two-week project within five days—after I'd already finished the one he previously assigned me."

"Watts," Neo guessed. Cinder had come back from his class angry enough times that it wasn't even a question.

"Yeah," she confirmed anyway. Neo wrinkled her nose.

"I already hated that guy, and I hated him more and more every time you came back from his class in a bad mood, but this shit he's pulling now is the final straw, so I'm going to get him fired," she declared. Cinder let out an amused huff.

"And how will you do that?" she asked. She didn’t expect an actual answer but Neo didn't even hesitate.

"It may include breaking and entering, small and well-placed incidents, a flat tire, some bottles of the expensive alcohol he isn't supposed to have on campus, a sedative, and if we're lucky, a little inadvertent assistance from gravity and Ironwood."

"Just how long have you been planning this?" Cinder was taken aback at the immediate response. Neo considered.

"The time you locked me out of your dorm after his class because you were so furious you wanted to hit something, and you were worried you'd see so much red you might accidentally hit me in blackout rage. You've never told me what happens in his class to make you so angry, or even if it's actually him or just another student—though I was pretty sure it was him—so I planned for both situations."

"I'm impressed," Cinder commented. Neo smirked. “Now what was that ‘deal’ you mentioned?”

"You finish the report for your project, then eat something more substantial than coffee and whatever quick snacks you've been living off of for the past few days. And then we go to my dorm and you get some damn sleep."

"How did you know I'm working on the report right now?" Cinder was taken aback. "And how do you know I haven't been eating?"

"Because I can see it on your computer. And once again, you've done this before, so I know you don't take the time for more than the minimum amount of food to keep hunger from 'distracting' you," Neo pointed out, almost accusingly.

"I haven't even started working on the oral presentation. I'll do all that after I'm completely finished."

"Nope. You can start that part when you're well-rested. If you make me physically drag you to bed while I'm on my period, I'll make damn sure you regret it," Neo threatened with a scowl.

“Fine,” Cinder gave in reluctantly. Neo smiled brightly, and dammit, it was nigh impossible for Cinder to stay bitter in the face of such genuine fondness, joy, and relief. She wondered when she’d gotten so soft—even if only a select few people got to see that soft part of her—and realized she didn’t even mind anymore.

#spicecreamweek2021 #spicecream #cinder x neo #fanfic #rwby #cinder fall #neopolitan #college au #oneshot #mentions of trauma #mentions of past self-harm #fluff #cuddles #established relationship #tl;dr cinder neglects self-care so neo makes her take a nap #i could have just done a link like normal people but i wanted an excuse to use the spicecream graphic i made

13 notes · View notes

hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.4

Part 4 of WINTW? :D Enjoy!

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5

“How is she?” Todoroki asked as he witnessed the scene before him.

None of them were expecting your quirk to go rampant for a few seconds. Being kept under surveillance, it was a miracle that UA signed the papers to let Recovery Girl be in charge. With your quirk’s sudden outburst, a good portion of her office was now upside down. The closest bed to yours was flipped over, the machine monitoring your vital signs now rested on the floor, and the window separating you from the rest now torn into shreds.

“Her vitals are still normal.” Recovery Girl said as she fixed the machine. Making sure that everything was as it was, she sighed and stared at your sleeping body. In all her years as a nurse, this would have to be the first time she would experience this. “Todoroki-san. Your father’s lab sent me some EEG results. I went over them a few hours ago.”

Todoroki nodded. His fist slowly balling.

“It perplexes me.” She pointed her index at you. “Her brain activity shows no sign of being in a commative state. In fact, it’s the opposite. The results told me that her brain is as active as ever.”

“Then why is she sleeping?” Bakugo asked. All this time he had been quietly observing. “If this extra’s brain is acting up, why the hell isn’t she responding?”

“I still have to run a few tests. And maybe call a few colleagues. It’s only been the second day, with a quirk like hers, it may be normal for her body to remain in a constant state of consciousness.”

Deku was about to speak up till he saw the faint glow of yellow on your palms once more. Everyone in the room prepared and distanced themselves from your sleeping body but nothing extreme happened. Staring at how the glow was steady and disappeared after a few seconds, collective hums and tiny gasps filled the room. With nothing happening next, Recovery Girl motioned for the three boys to leave.

Inside the classroom, everyone was waiting for the doors to slide open. When it did, everyone began bombarding them with questions till Bakugo finally yelled at them to shut their mouths. Commanding Todoroki to tell them, the half and half boy began.

“Recovery Girl said that (y/n)’s brain doesn’t show signs of being in a coma.”

“The girl’s quirk went haywire in the clinic. Either she’s sleep fighting or her quirk is getting out of control. You two were handed a mission, right? What exactly happened half and half? You hidin’ somethin’ or shit?”

“Kacchan, Todoroki-kun already explained what happened.” Deku tried to calm down the angry pomeranian. It worked but he received a snarl. Looking at Todoroki, Deku asked. “You’ve known her longest, do you think she’ll be okay?”

“She was in pain when I last saw her conscious. It angers me that there’s nothing much I can do but to hope that she’ll recover.”

Meanwhile, in another dimension, you were now preparing the gym with Yukie and Kaori. Dragging the cart out, you had been assigned to take care of the volleyballs. Pumping and making sure that there was enough air in them, you felt glad for the mini work out. It had been too long since you last worked out and even this amount was barely enough to maintain your body.

Asking a member, he hesitantly agreed into letting you become the new ball boy.

“(y/n)-chan? You sure you wanna be incharge of the balls?” Konoha asked.

“Yeah. There’s more than enough managers and it would be good exercise for me.” It was a shocker that Konoha even talked to you. Among the team, he was one of the few people you didn’t bother to research about. All you knew was he could cheer Bokuto up and that was that. Satisfied with your reply, you watched as he excused himself and walked back to begin his warm up.

At the end of the day, your body was far from sore. Not even an increase in your heart rate. Though, you did sweat but only due to the heat the gym radiated. Now that you were inside the girl’s locker room, you stretched your limbs only to be left unsatisfied.

“You moved and caught the balls like there was no tomorrow yet you barely broke a sweat.” Kaori commented as she took her shirt off. Yukie chimed in and agreed with the statement.

“I used to work out a lot back in Musutafu.” Taking your shirt off, the two girls gasped at the sight of your toned body. It had only dawned you that this would be the first time you were changing with them. You always made it a habit to enter the gym earlier than the others.

“Were you in a gang? Why do you have a lot of scratches on your body, (y/n)?” Yukie took a step closer and feasted on all your small battle scars.

Mentally cursing that you did not think this moment through, you chewed on your inner cheek and tried to think of an explanation.

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m a clutz, Yukie-san.”

“A big one at that.” She pointed to a particular one. The most painful one of them all. Running from your shoulder to the tip of your breastbone, the memory of Toga digging her knife across your skin made you shudder. Seeing how you shuddered, Yukie felt guilt for intruding such personal space.

“It’s fine, Yukie-san~ No need to apologize.” You stopped her before she could speak. “Those were just… tough times ya know? But, this doesn’t hurt or even affect me that much anymore.”

“Well, you better get dressed quickly,” Kaori commented as she giggled. “Akaashi-san just sent you a message saying he’s waiting by the gate.”

Changing quickly, you could feel the stares behind you.

“Nothing is going on, okay? We’re just neighbors.” You pouted with your eyebrows furrowing.

“So you mean to say, you have the strength to walk past his beautiful face?”

“Yes, Kaori-san.” You replied with a deadpan voice. Yes, you admired him during the first day here in this dimension but that was it.

“And that none of those athletic boys caught your attention?”

“None at all.” Shrug.

The two girls shared a quiet giggle. Squinting your eyes, you stared at them till they waved you off and told you to have fun on your walk back home with the setter. Now that you were walking towards the gate, you checked up on your quirk once more. The pulling sensation was a little stronger, the glow a little brighter, but no significant changes. When you saw Akaashi leaning on the wall, his gunmetal blue eyes looked silver under the moonlit night.

“Shall we?”

“Yeah.”

The walk began and it was wrapped in silence once more. But, this time, the silence was comfortable. It gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. Every now and then, you would ask a school related question to the setter and immediately a response was given. Passing by a cafe, your eyes were glued to the (favorite pastry) being showcased. On record time, your stomach sang and your cheeks turned red.

“You hungry?” Akaashi asked as he stared at the (favorite pastry). “I don’t mind eating dinner out. The food this cafe offers is pretty tasty.”

“Can we?” A wide grin formed on the corners of your mouth. When he nodded his head, you grabbed on to his hand and dragged him inside the cafe. The scent of brewed coffee accompanied by the soothing melodies of soft jazz reminded you of Kiri and Bakugo’s study sessions.

Bringing him to the counter, Akaashi’s eyes focused on both your hands. There was no spark now, but this time a small pulling sensation took its place. Judging that it might have been the effects of practice he brushed it off and enjoyed the warmth your hold had to offer.

“I’ll have pasta and a slice of that (favorite pastry) please!” The giddiness in your voice made the cashier smile.”What about you, Akaashi-san?”

“Caesar salad and a pork chop.”

Offering to pay for the food, you let go of his hand and fished out your pocket. It wasn’t too expensive and the money your o-mother gave you was slowly piling up. Getting the number, you pointed to a small booth that had enough privacy the two of you would appreciate.

“Do you eat here a lot, Akaashi-san?”

“Not quite.” The way he sat down was very proper compared to yours. Though he didn’t really mind. “I do like their latte’s here. What about you, Firecracker?”

“Firecracker?” You raised a brow and your palms began to sweat.

“Have you eaten here before?”

“Nope. This would have to be my first time.” Your eyes scanned the decoration. It was homey and rustic. The lights above you looked as if the designer had a lot of glass bottles at home. “You’re pretty good at dealing with Bokuto-san’s personality.”

“Barely. I just grew up with him.”

“Were you in the volleyball club in middle school?”

“Yeah.” He began to play with his fingers. “But my teammates weren’t as dedicated. What about you?”

“Well, I didn’t join any club.” You placed your elbow on the table and rested your chin on your palm. Your stare glued to the boy sitting across you. “But I did like aiding the support department from time to time. They built some pretty interesting gears that helped me and my friends cope with the curriculum.”

“Gears?” The look of confusion was amusing. It was subtle but clear.

“Yeah.” You smirked. “UA was pretty brutal when it came to subjects. Being in 1-A was interesting and the smallest trip caused a lot of chaos. It was fun, scared the shit out of us, but the experience was worth it.”

“You’re talking as if you have special abilities.” His eyebrow was the one raised now. The playful glimmer in your eyes evident.

“Are you saying I’m not special, Akaashi-san?”

“I never implied that, (l/n)-san.”

The both of you stared each other down for a while. Being with Akaashi in a private booth was a different experience. His extra shirt was a little loose on him, thus hiding his well formed shoulders. A little sad, you had to admit. Being given the opportunity to stare at his face, you had to give him praise. He really was gorgeous despite looking a tad tired from the heinous practice.

“I’m kidding. Ya got me.” You pulled out a tissue and threw it on the table. A white flag, so to speak. “I wasn’t into sports. I was mostly in the background and focused on my studies. Boring right?”

“Far from it.” The corner of his lip curled up for the slightest bit. That small smile made your tummy feel weird and tingly.

“Indeed. I’m far from boring.” You winked. “I’m probably the most interesting person here in this dimension called Tokyo.”

“You’re rubbing ass now.”

“So the very proper and dainty Akaashi Keiji knows how to swear?” You feigned surprise and couldn’t help but laugh a bit at the words he had just said.

“Ass is not a swear word, (l/n) (y/n).”

“You’re right. It’s something you're blessed with.” Fuck. You got carried away. Biting your tongue and clearing your throat, the food finally arrived. Hopefully he’d let it slip and just enjoy the meal. “ANYWAY~ Thanks for letting me drag you in here.”

“My pleasure.”

The meal was pleasant and the embarrassment of complimenting his ass forgotten. Yet, the feeling of finally telling someone about a few things back home was a huge weight off your shoulders. Having to bottle up so much knowledge that you’re a complete stranger in this world was straining.

Akaashi noticed it too. How your shoulders relaxed and your features as well indicated that you had just taken a load off your problems. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was but he was pretty sure that there was more to what you had just told him. Not to mention your choice of words were far from being carefully selected, almost as if it was natural to you. Swallowing his thoughts, he continued savoring the food and the enigma before him.

Now standing on the street, in the middle of your houses, you stared at the gap between the two buildings. 5 meters was your estimated distance. Not too far and not too close, a pretty standard distance based on the houses in the neighborhood.

“Thanks for walking me home, Akaashi-san.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, (l/n)-san.”

“Ya know, we might as well drop the honorifics. Neighbors, same year, same team.” You were never one to like formalities anyway. “But, I’m cool with keeping it tho.”

“In that case, I can agree with your proposal.” Akaashi now walked towards his side of the area. With his back facing you, he glanced over his shoulder and bowed. “Goodnight, Firecracker.”

Firecracker. That was more of a Bakugo thing, if you were to be honest.

But, coming from his mouth?

You were more than willing to let him call you that.

- - - - -

so did ya’ll like this chapter? we now have a picture as to how our BNHA friends are doing~ Akaashi is still accepting in his line up :) comment if youd like to be a part of it!

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuxbnha

65 notes · View notes

trillian-anders · 5 years

Text

chambers - viii

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 4262

Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

He was there. And you were staring at him. He mimicked the way you were sitting. Hand over your mouth, slumped in one of the two armchairs in your room. Legs crossed. You’d looked up from the laptop that now sat closed on the small table and he was just there. Staring.

You wish you could say it felt scary. You should be scared. Was he a ghost? Was he haunting this heart that sat heavily in your chest? It was pumping the blood that now flowed through your body. Eric had said something right?

Head and heart intertwined.

He was haunting you. In more ways than one. Your mind drifted to Bucky. A text that went unanswered,

Wanda is missing. Are you okay?

No response. He did say there would be some radio silence but you’d hoped he was only saying that just in case. You’d expected, foolishly, to be replied to. It’d been two hours. Eyes were sore from attempting to hack into the files on the Avengers server. You were searching for Steve’s memory now, it’s not quite coming to you and is proving your endeavor to be very difficult.

“Tell me how.” You stated calmly. The soldier stared back at you, not answering. But as you uncrossed you’re legs he did too. As you crossed the other leg he mimicked, almost as if you were him. You were looking in a mirror. A perfect replica.

Hand removed from mouth.

Sat back.

Staring. Not answering.

You bit your bottom lip in nervousness, fingers tapping against your knee and he did the same.

Maybe you were crazy. Maybe this isn’t real. It’s possible. Who knows what all of those seizures had done to your brain. And now, while they didn’t show extreme symptoms, the shaking of your pupils and your slacken body in a memory was still a seizure. Just not as extreme.

Zemo.

It had to be fucking Zemo.

You didn’t know him yourself, but Steve has strong feelings about the man. You recall the security camera. Bucky’s vacant eyes staring back at you. A gunshot to the camera. Then pain. So much pain.

Tony.

Your heart panged. What a waste. The anger, the resentment, the stubbornness. You’d wished Tony could sit and talk to Bucky. A conversation they never got to have. Steve didn’t expect Tony to forgive Bucky. How could you? But Tony would have been willing to try. After all, how much Stark tech had killed peoples Mothers. Wanda was an example of that. And she liked Tony in the end, more importantly she forgave him.

That’s what mattered.

“Steve,” You whispered, “Please.” A buzz. A reply.

I’m safe. Are you okay?

“How old are you again?” Tony asked. A smirk on his face. You’d just met the guy. You’d just saved New York with this guy. Now you were watching him stuff shawarma into his mouth, taziki smeared on his lips.

“I’m 27.” Steve’s voice always sounded so terse. So formal. He didn’t get the joke. He never got the joke. It seemed like seconds later you were in a lab and Tony smirked, typing on what seemed to be glass. The buttons lighting up under his fingertips. Steve, you, sat awkwardly to the side. Watching him.

“Okay lay your hands on there.” A flat glass surface next to the keyboard. You watched Steve’s large hands lay flat on the surface. His knuckles had scars on them. A freckle on the back of his left hand. But that couldn’t be right, you had a freckle in the same spot. The hands were scanned, a cool blue light passing over them. His hands flickering to look like yours for an odd moment.

“Now your eyes,” Facing the screen you saw Steve’s strong jaw give away to your own, his cheekbones melting to yours, his eyes melting to yours. Until you were staring at yourself in the glass. Another scan.

“You’re all set up Cap.” The tech genius smiled at you. Your heart clenched heavily in your chest,

You were back. Blinking heavily. A shiver ran down your spine. The super soldier sat across from you silently. You slowly opened the computer back up, placing it on your lap before pulling the screen up. It came to you instantly. Overrides. Codes. Logins. Not even just yours, but Tony’s too. Had they been erased yet?

He nodded. Almost indiscernible.

You typed in three quick words into the keypad.

SGR—CLEARANCE LEVEL 0

and files. So many files.

Steve was gone.

Bucky Barnes hated field work. Clint, he didn��t mind the sarcastic asshole, but right now he wanted to throttle him. A perp, the guy they followed from security camera to security camera, strapped down in a chair between them. They were waiting for him to wake up.

“You gave him too much.” Bucky’s voice growled, fingers hovering over his phone screen. Don’t double text, Sam had warned him before, makes you look desperate. But desperate how? You weren’t answering him and he needed an answer. Now.

“If someone’s fat fingers hadn’t been covering the fucking side of the needle I would have known how much I was giving him.” Clint scoffed, taking a sip of the terrible motel room coffee. Bucky rolled his eyes. There had been a struggle, but in wrestling the guy down Clint had pushed the plunger down all the way instead of half. Now it would be at least another hour until he woke up.

Why weren’t you answering him? He text you four minutes ago. You had to have seen it right? Maybe you were with Eric, but he hoped not seeing as it was now well after nine pm and you were usually sitting in the living area watching some sort of movie or reality game show on tv. But they were usually there for that.

Peter.

He’ll text Peter. The spider kid will keep an eye on you. He draft a text,

Watch her for me.

Simple. To the point. The kid replied within seconds,

Y/N?

Bucky groaned, rolling his eyes again.

Yes.

Peter replied,

Sure thing Sergeant Barnes.

Good. Good. The kid will keep an eye and make sure Eric doesn’t cross a line somewhere. He wanted to do his own research on the guy. Sam has sent him a file not to long ago. One he scoured three times while the guy across from him slumbered on.

Eric was a first class Sergeant Master of the Marines. A Medal of Honor. Honorable discharge after the events of the blip. His story checks out. Wife is deceased. Passed away due to a plane crash, just like he said. New York City boy through and through. After the war he began working on bikes, he eventually got his house back where he now lives alone. He started going to the VA and volunteering at a homeless shelter on the weekends. The guy had a clean slate.

Too clean.

Bucky was just as suspicious as before, maybe a little more now that he’s read the guys rap sheet. The man across from him started to murmur as your text came in.

I’m okay.

Three dots. Then another text.

I know about Zemo.

The man across from him mumbled against the gag in his mouth. Bucky’s eyes dragging themselves from his phone to the man across from him, drool pouring from the corner of his mouth. Clint stood from his chair, sighing, placing his coffee on the table.

“Alright,” He said, “Let’s get started.”

What did Zemo want? You typed into the computer, the pass codes and areas to look coming seamlessly. Steve seemed to unlock something. Whether it was physical or mental you didn’t know, but you could do some serious digging now.

King T’Challa was tracking down old members of EKO Scorpion. He’d found two today, living together somewhere in Africa. Tanzania? A safari mecca. Why would they have retired there? Were they really two Sakovians running a safari? They were currently being questioned but no news yet.

Bucky and Clint had the other man who tried to assault you in custody. They were questioning him, but no news yet.

Wanda and Sharon were still radio silent. You’d heard the Quinjet take off a few minutes ago and you were sure Sam and Scott were on it, heading out to the JCTC. You’d text her not long ago, Wanda. Asking her to respond. Please. Let me know you’re okay.

Because maybe they ran into trouble, and maybe they’ll sort it out. You checked your phone again. No text from Bucky or Wanda. It was giving you anxiety. But there was nothing you could do about it. For now.

The morning found you exhausted, having spent most of the night waiting for updates to be loaded onto the private server. None came other than the notification that Sam and Scott had reached their destination.

A text from Bucky had been waiting for you once you had woken up from four hours of sleep, a simple…

I didn’t want to worry you.

But you understood why they didn’t tell you. Not because they didn’t trust you, but for this exact reason.

You’d always been very independent. Your Mom said as a child it was if you never even needed her. You’d always kind of found your own way, even as your heart began to fail. Maybe there was something in Steve, something in this heart, that was amplifying how you felt about this, and you knew that maybe you wouldn’t be able to actually fight Zemo yourself. Not like Steve could fight him. But you could help.

If he wanted this heart he’d have to rip it out of your own chest. But he didn’t want the heart, probably. Bruce said you had some sort of watered down serum right? You could do all of the things Steve could but your body couldn’t recover. Would it stand to say that your blood could be taken, samples of serum, and recreated? Possibly. Probably.

A mask was on your face, you were running on a treadmill in the lab, Peter Parker standing off to the side watching your vitals as Bruce poured himself another cup of coffee. The speed of the treadmill was steadily increasing. The little wires that are connected to the electrodes placed on your chest and temples bounced as you ran.

Your mind was racing just as fast as your legs were pumping. After this, after this test you’ll check again. You’ll go on and see. Maybe Bucky has text you again. You’d asked him for an update, hoping he’ll give you one. Then you’ll stop by to see Eric for a little bit.

“Alright, the cool down.” Bruce said, Peter tapped a few keys and the treadmill began to slow. It was specially designed for the super soldiers. Reaching upwards of 60 mph. Today you did half that, 30 mph, with seemingly no ill side effects. Your legs burning as a normal workout would. You chugged a bottle of water, stepping off the treadmill as results showed on the screen. Bruce leaning over Peter’s shoulder to look at them.

“How are we looking?” You asked as you caught your breath. Bruce nodded,

“Looking good, are you feeling any pain at all?” You kicked one leg out and then the other while Peter carefully removed the electrodes.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“This is so weird.” Peter laughed. You gave him a weird look, “Just like…” He stuttered, “You getting all of these enhancements from this heart y’know? Like before you couldn’t even live a normal life, and now you could run 30 miles an hour.” You smiled at the kid,

“For sure.” He smiled back, placing the electrodes down and turning back to Bruce.

“Lunch time?” He asked. Bruce nodded, still typing into the computer.

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

The swelling in Eric’s face was almost completely gone. He was set to be discharged tomorrow, then life would go back to almost normal. He was filling out an application to be a field agent. A recruit. He seemed hopeful.

“Is this really something you want to do?” You asked him, sipping on a cup of hot tea. He nodded, typing a few more keystrokes.

“You never really leave it.” He says, “I did two tours, now I sit around and listen to people criticize me because their car keeps making the same noise after I fix something else. I want to make a difference again.” Your phone buzzed on the table beside you, Bucky. Eric’s eyes were on you intently as you read the text,

Zemo is probably still here in NY. Stay on compound.

Your thumbs hovered over the keypad, before typing a quick reply.

Okay, have you heard from Sam?

Three dots, then they disappeared. Three dots again.

Not yet.

Was he lying to you? You sighed heavily,

“Everything okay?” Eric asked you. You nodded, not looking up from your phone debating whether or not to answer. You had to get back into the computer logs. You darkened the screen, slipping the device into your pocket.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You smiled, Eric shifted uncomfortably in his bed, nodding seriously before submitting the application.

“I think this will be good for me.” He said softly, “I’ve been lost since Jess died.” His wife. “Maybe this will help me get that structure back.” He looked at you with soft eyes, “Maybe it’ll help me finally move on.” A hand placed over yours and his calloused thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. You lay a hand over his,

“I hope so Eric.” He raises your hands to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of them. A knock on the glass and you looked up to see Peter gesturing towards his watch. The break was over. The heat on the back of your neck increased, not knowing how long Parker had been outside of the hospital room.

“If you’re not too tired tonight,” Eric began. “Maybe you can come down here and we can have dinner together?” A grin, dimpled cheek that made your heart skip a beat.

“Sure,” You smiled, standing from the chair, “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Sharon Carter was resourceful. The CIA agent turned Avenger confidant likened herself to her great Aunt in that way. Peggy taught her to be resourceful. “Men will underestimate you because you’re a woman, take that to your advantage.” Always. It was an unspoken plan, once what was supposed to be an interrogation turned on its head, that the two women would let themselves be captured.

Maybe they’d be lucky enough to be taken to Zemo. If there was a threat of death or injury they’ll rework the plan then, but for now they were just being held in the cell that the impersonator once occupied. Sitting. Waiting. Watching the impersonator, a bald man ones the subordinate soldiers were calling Markus.

Markus, was on the phone.

His eyes drifting back to the glass cage the two women sat in he spoke quickly in Zemo’s native tongue. Wanda was able to pick out bits and pieces, she knew he must have been talking to Zemo. Partially about their capture and partially about what to do next. He seemed… nervous.

“What is he saying?” Sharon asked, mouth imperceptibly moving, quiet, hushed. Wanda stopped her pacing, focusing in on what Markus was saying to the person on the other line.

“He’s asking if he should relocate us,” Wanda said, “Or if we should be terminated.” Her hands gripped her elbows tightly. It wasn’t as if the two women couldn’t get themselves out of this situation. They had been radio silent for almost 24 hours now, Sam would surely be on his way if he wasn’t already. But that aside they were more than capable of taking out the five henchmen. Guns or not. But when would be the right time?

A glint in his eye and he turned back to face the two women, signing off, “Hail Hydra.” And ending the call. Wanda’s brow furrowed. Hydra? There had been little to no sign of the organization since the fall of SHIELD ten years ago. Was this what Zemo was doing? Rebuilding?

“We gotta get out of here.” Wanda stated calmly to her friend. Sharon looked up at her from her spot sitting on the bed and nodded.

“It’s time to go.” The whole building went dark, the soldiers letting out a yell in shock. The building’s alarm lighting coming on. A red glow around the ceiling and floor as a shield spun out from the doorway, immediately knocking two men on their asses. Sam’s wings tight against his back, the red and white uniform stark in the dark room, he caught the shield and placed it on his back. Scott grew full size knocking another two down as the cell door hissed open. Markus backed himself against a wall, fumbling for the gun his counterpart dropped. Wanda quickly reached out, red tendrils wrapping around his body and flinging him unconscious across the room.

“Took you long enough Cap.” Sharon breathed, stepping down from the cell. Sam pressed a button on the side of his mask, the front peeling back from his face.

“Thought you had it handled.” He looked around the room where Scott was linking the goons up with electromagnetic handcuffs.

“We were just about to break loose.” Wanda defended, “He was on a call with Zemo.” She gestured to the man she was now pulling back towards them, pulling the phone from his pocket. “It seems as though Zemo is bringing back Hydra.” Sam’s joking demeanor suddenly turned serious, taking the phone from Wanda’s hand he turned it over in his palms.

“I think it’s time we have another meeting.”

“Do you miss them?” Peggy asked. Her head on your chest, fingers playing idly with the buttons of your sleep shirt. It was a silky thing. One she’d bought from Macys and had SGR embroidered on the pocket. You really didn’t like them, seemed a little too old fashioned when you were used to sleeping in joggers and no shirt at all. Your large hand grabbed hers, wedding band shining on your finger.

“Every day.” Steve’s timbre filled the quiet room, “I missed you though.” He shrugged, “I was going to miss someone either way. It just… this is what I always wanted.” Wasn’t it? Her soft lips pressed to yours, red lacquered nails scratching at your scalp as you deepened the kiss. Lips parting to breath she said,

“Do you regret coming back?” Silent for a beat. And then another.

“No.” But it felt like a lie.

It had only been two days since you’d seen him. Two days without Bucky. But once you’d heard he was coming back to the compound, that there was another team meeting your heart began to race in prospect of seeing him, hands trembling as you stepped off the treadmill the next morning. Everyone had gotten back last night. Wanda made a quick appearance in your room, just to tell you that she was okay and that you had nothing to worry about but you knew when she was lying to you.

You had a lot to worry about. But your main worry was hacking into the video and audio feed of the conference room during their meeting later.

“Hey.” It was like music. The raspy voice, the soft notes reaching your ears. You were still huffing a little, 35 mph today. His large figure stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. The scruff on his face hadn’t been touched in a couple days and it sent a shiver down your spine. You bit your bottom lip,

“Hey Sergeant Barnes!” Peter smiled and waved from his seat in front of the monitor, “How are you today?” Bucky looked at him strangely,

“Uh… fine. Thanks.” Eyes moving back to you.

“Hey,” You smiled, walking over to him and immediately pulling him into your arms. He stiffened before slowly relaxing, wrapping his arms around your waist in return. “Are you okay?” You whispered. He nodded against your shoulder,

“M’fine.” A little sway side to side. A cleared throat behind you,

“Hey Buck.” Bruce waved as the two of you parted awkwardly. Bucky stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving the green giant a nod.

“How’s she doin’ Bruce?” Your heart skipped a beat and you tried to quell the excitement of his actual concern for you. You didn’t pay attention to much else in their interaction. The super soldier’s hair was too distracting. He needed a haircut. Maybe not a shave, but definitely a haircut. It was growing too long on the sides. His blue eyes met yours and you shake your head slightly to keep yourself from staring.

Chill the fuck out Steve.

You rolled your shoulders back trying to release some tension in them. “I’ll see you after the meeting?” He asked, going to leave the room. You nodded in response,

“Yeah,” You cleared your throat, “I’ll see you then.” He gave you a strange look, smirked and then left. A deep sigh leaving your chest as you looked back to Peter and Bruce who were pointedly looking at the monitor, “So what’s next?”

“So Zemo is trying to bring back Hydra?” Bucky asked, a chill down his spine. His left arm suddenly felt very tight. The nerves and gears locking up. Wanda sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes.

“It looks that way.” Sam paced the front of the conference room.

“What could they possibly do?” Scott asked, “They’d have to start all over infiltrating different organizations and--”

“They could have had sleepers already.” Clint offered. “An organization that big had to have a backup plan.” Bucky’s eyes darted around wildly on the desk, trying to recall anything that could be useful. His eyes snapped up to the surveillance camera, eyes attaching to yours through the screen. You wondered if he knew what you were doing or if it was just a coincidence. They continued on,

“I’m going to keep investigating what is going on here in Tanzania,” King T’Challa’s voice ran through the room, his hologram off to the side of where Sam was standing, “It would be foolish to believe that these associates have nothing to do with the revival of Hydra.” Sam nodded, agreeing.

“We have a couple of people here to interrogate, five to be exact.” Sam nodded to Bucky and Clint, “What did you get from your guy?”

“He was approached via video call, he said he never saw Zemo face to face.” Clint looked to Bucky before continuing, “Considering he doesn’t have fingernails at the moment I feel inclined to believe him.” Sam groaned, rubbing his temples before beginning to pace once more.

“We’ll interrogate these guys, see what we can get.” Sam started, “Hopefully one of these leads will take us somewhere, in the meantime--”

The screen behind him fuzzed, as did the screen on your laptop. It seemed to flip through different channels, before settling on one. A man. In a purple mask. He wore a dark coat and what looked like leather gloves.

“Zemo.” You breathed. The eyes. You remember those eyes. They stared into yours, no Steve’s, as he said there was a flaw. A bit of green in the blue of your eyes, if you remember correctly.

“Hello Y/N.” He addressed you directly, “I hope all is well and you’re feeling better.” He shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “I’m going to give you something you want and in return I will get something that I want.” You brought your hand up to your mouth, unsure of what he’s about to say,

“You see, your life hasn’t been easy hmm? Your parents are poor, you’re swimming in debt in the medical bills that bankrupt them. This thing you’re doing right now, where the Avengers are taking care of you, how long do you think that’s really going to last?” His eyes were dead on yours. It made you very uncomfortable. Like he knew exactly where you were in the room as you placed the laptop on the coffee table and began to pace, maybe he did,

“I can make all of it disappear.” He offered, “And all I want from you is a little meeting. I just want one vial of your blood and I will change your life forever.” You could feel your heart stop. Blood rushing through your ears. “They don’t care about you.” A pit opened up in your stomach. “As soon as they make sure that you’re not going to die they’ll drop you right back off in your shitty little apartment to be forgotten forever. This is your chance to make a difference, to do something extraordinary for the future of mankind.” You stopped pacing, watching the screen with your cold hands on your face.

“You could change everything, just like I could change everything for you.” He leaned forward, getting closer to the screen. “I’m looking forward to hearing from you.” The call cut out and Bucky burst through the door to your room, staring at you in silence for a minute, but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know what to do. What the fuck just happened?

“Y/N.” He panted, you could feel the seizure coming on, strong this time. But you didn’t feel your body hit the floor, because it didn’t. Bucky wouldn’t let you.

taglist// @nutellakirb @witch-of-letters @torntaltos @emotionallysalty @an-lover @lbuck121 @albinotigerpython @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil @tinmunky

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #sebastian stan #chris evans #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #tfatws

317 notes · View notes