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anamazingangie · 2 years ago

Text

iron out the kinks by AmazingAngie

Aegon II Targaryen x Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

E / 8k / Chapter One / Chapter Two

Summary: “What do I like? Well, there is nothing better than coming home from work and finding something pretty waiting for you. Or, I suppose two pretty things.” He corrected.

“I like watching movies with someone in my lap, my fingers in their cunt. Or their mouth wrapped around my cock, just a warm place for my length to sit after a long day.”

“That sounds… good,” Aegon squeaked, and Rhaenyra nodded.

“I think we are compatible, then.” Daemon said with a grin.

sequel to a sign of maturity (or a midlife crisis)

...

Chapter Two

Strawberry

...

As desperate as Daemon was to get them back into a bed—or actually the bed didn’t really matter, as desperate as he was to get them naked, he knew he needed to be the responsible one. It was the role of dominant to begin with, and he had two decades of experience over the pair both in the lifestyle and…well, life.

So before venturing back into bed with them, he wanted to establish a better understanding of just how inexperienced they were. And that was why he asked to see their apartment—or more specifically, their toy box.

They had given him a brief tour of their place—a nice apartment with two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen, and large (at least by city standards) living space. It didn’t compare to his place but he really hadn’t expected it to.

He was quite charmed to find each of them had full sized beds—Rhaenyra had rolled her eyes when he pointed it out, explaining that, “Our parents furnished the place and wanted to discourage overnight visitors.”

“Jokes on them,” Aegon says, “The closer we stay to each other at night, the more we have sex.” Rhaenyra shoved him in a childlike display and Daemon just shook his head at their antics.

They escorted him to their room, though they admitted it was technically Rhaenyra’s. “He keeps his clothing in the other one—you know, for plausible deniability.” Daemon hummed in response, thinking it was quite sad that even in their home they had to keep up appearances of being single. He understood it, he just didn’t like it.

Rhaenyra opened the top drawer of her birch dresser with a flourish, revealing an assortment of toys. There were a couple dozen at least, nothing to scoff at by any means. None were especially large, but some of the dildos sported ribs and scales, certainly beyond what a normal sex shop would carry. His brow rose at the tapered tip of one that resembled a tentacle, wondering which of them used that.

There were plugs too—the largest of which was still smaller than his dick, but not small by any means. And vibrators, lot’s of those. He guessed that Rhaenyra favored those—he could see her as a pillow princess, content to slip one into the front of her panties and let it do all the work. It would definitely do the job, but wouldn’t be as satisfying as the orgasms he could provide.

He picked up the largest dildo, one with a flared base that made it acceptable for anal use.

“Do you like it?” Daemon asked, addressing Aegon, who was blushing. Before the boy could respond Rhaenyra snorted, “He really likes it.” Aegon glared at her, “What?” She asked, “You do! He’ll spend like hours just sitting on that thing.”

Daemon smiled at that, and at the boy's blush. “Don’t be embarrassed, nothing wrong with having a hungry hole, hm?” He said, enjoying watching him squirm a little.

“And you, Rhaenyra?” He asked. She shifted, less vocal now that the conversation had turned to her. She even looked a bit embarrassed herself before admitting, “Not really.” Daemon hummed, “Do you think you could be trained to like it?” He asked, reaching out to stroke her jaw. She shifted again, before saying, “I…don’t know.”

“What have you had up there before?” She bit her lip before looking down at the drawer of toys, rummaging around until she found a nondescript metal butt plug. He nodded, “Can you turn around for me princess?” He asked, and when she did he pressed gently on her back, bending her torso over the dresser. He lifted her skirt, a pleated thing which brought back schoolgirl fantasies of his youth. He pushed that thought aside—though he wouldn’t rule out revisiting it later— then hooked his fingers through the sides of Rhaenyra’s underwear. “Can I pull these down?” He asked, and she muttered a quiet “Yes.”

He ran his thumbs under the swell of her asscheeks, whispering praise about how pretty she was, because it was true. And then his thumbs parted the crease of her ass separating the cheeks and shushing her when she whined nervously. “Look at that little thing,” he cooed, stroking his index finger against the outside of the puckered flesh, pleased by the way she shivered at his touch.

“You’re too pretty back here for a plug like that, princess. I’m not surprised your precious hole rejected it.” He continued stroking—there wasn’t any lubrication, and he didn’t want to hurt her, so the touches were featherlight.

“I’d start you off with some little anal beads, so small you could practically wear them around your neck like jewelry without anyone knowing otherwise. I’d press one of the little pearls into you, with lots of lube, and the rest would just dangle against your thighs.” He stroked between her legs then, tracing his fingers down the aforementioned flesh.

“When you got used to it, I’d push another into you. And maybe another, until you were squirming because your hole felt so full. But there would still be one more, tugging gently thanks to gravity. The reminder of what you couldn’t take would be there taunting you with every movement. And princess I think you’re competitive, no? You’d want to take them all. Prove that your little hole could do it. So I’d press that one in too. It might hurt a bit at first, all those pearls inside of you, but gosh I’d be so proud of you.”

She whimpered, hips squirming beneath his palms.

“You’d be clenching down so hard, your cunt would be so tight, I might not even be able to get inside of you. Maybe Aegon would have to fuck you? His little cock would be gripped so hard by your walls because your ass is so full your little cunt just can’t help it.”

He slid her underwear back up, folding her skirt back where it belonged as he stroked her clothed waist. “You’d come like that I think.” He paused for a moment, fingers stroking the length of her now covered bum. “I’d get you a prettier plug, maybe with a gem? Purple to match your eyes I think, and it would look so good nestled between your asscheeks that you’d be desperate to take it.” He said, thoughtful.

“I’d let you have as many orgasms as you wanted—but only if you had the plug in. So you’d learn to associate that hole being full with pleasure. How does that sound?” He asked, and he heard her let out a little puff of breath. “Good. That sounds really good.” She admitted.

She was still bent over, and ground against his groin. He laughed, stilling her hips with his hands and calling her “Naughty.” As he moved away from her, worried he would be too tempted to raise her skirt again. Then he asked, “Which are your favorites?” And gestured to the toys before them.

Rhaenyra picked up a small rabbit vibe—something a few inches long to clench on with clit stimulation, unsurprising. He’d introduce her to something more fun, already mentally adding a hitachi wand to his shopping cart. It was the gold standard for a reason, and their collection was shamefully missing one.

Aegon seemed to realize it was his turn—picking up a thick but relatively short plug. It wasn’t as tapered as the others—something between a plug and a dildo, in that it could stay inside undetected but would keep the rim stretched wide. An interesting choice.

“You like stretching out your hole?” He asked, and Aegon nodded shyly.

“His fans go crazy when he takes it out and it gapes a little.” Rhaenyra said.

“Have you tried tunnels?” He asked, knowing based on what was before him that the answer was most likely no. When they confirmed this by shaking their heads, he continued, “They make hollow plugs, so you can see inside your hole while it’s pried open, and they make tunnels for vaginal use too—so you can see deep into the cunt. But your insides can gel all dry—you’d have to take breaks so I could get you nice and wet in between. Flood that cunt until the tunnel would slide right back in without lube. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

They both nodded, oddly in sync and looking a bit dazed thanks to his words. A glass dildo could do something similar—they were versatile too, able to be heated or frozen for added simulation, and there was an idea, but maybe he’d keep that one to himself for now.

“Whose is this?” He asked, picking up the tentacle shaped one—grinning a little when they both blushed. “It was a joke,” Aegon said, defensive, “But it does feel pretty good.” Rhaenyra admitted.

“You know,” Daemon said—thinking of a company he invested in ages ago. “They make longer ones—they come in a bunch of different sizes, and if you buy the right one, the tip will press right up against your cervix.” Rhaenyra’s nose wrinkled and Daemon almost laughed at the expression.

“It’s like a game—do you want to risk the pinch of it hitting that to feel the stretch of its base? Or do you try to control your thrusts and get off on just the tip? You can’t be satisfied without a bit of suffering.” Rhaenyra looked more contemplative, now.

“Then again, some girls like that—having something just a little too deep, butting against where nothing is supposed to go. Even grinding down trying to make it bruise so they can feel it the next day.” He hid his smirk, the girl now looking straight up curious. Yes, he thought he’d order a selection of those, too.

“This has been illuminating, thank you.” Daemon said, stepping back from the drawer.

“What is your favorite toy?” Rhaenyra asked as she shut the drawer, and Daemon grinned. “Whatever hole is wet for me, princess.” He paused, then continued, “That’s not true. Whatever hole I feel like getting wet for me.” He took great pleasure in the way Rhaenyra audibly swallowed—a retort clearly not coming as quickly as she expected.

“What would you like to do now?” He asked—when there was no response he asked seriously, “Would you like me to leave?” Aegon actually grabbed his wrist in protest, though both of them said “No!” Quite enthusiastically.

“It’s our first date, hm?” Daemon said, “We could curl up on the couch and watch something? Maybe order dinner later, my treat of course?”

“That sounds nice.” Agreed Aegon.

Rhaenyra smiled, a fiendish expression, “I know just the thing.”

…

It was only mid afternoon, but Rhaenyra pulled the curtains shut so the room was dim. There were no overhead lights in the apartment, just lamps on the side tables that gave the room a soft glow. Their couch was large, too big for the space, really, the cushions were deep and made from a textured velvet. He immediately noted the chaise section on one side, allowing someone to recline— Daemon could already imagine using that for his benefit.

He swallowed, trying to dull the thrum of arousal that had been stirring since he sat down across from them hours earlier. It seemed unfair he had to go this long without touching either of them, at least in the intimate manner he craved. He’d try to resist a little longer, though he doubted they’d get through an entire film without a bit of petting.

He didn’t want to make either of them uncomfortable, or move too quickly, but now that they had established what they wanted, he didn’t see much reason to draw things out, either. As far as he could tell, they were ridiculously compatible and he was eager to prove that to them—and himself, too.

Still, as he sat down he kept his hands to himself—letting the siblings snuggle into his sides. They were sort of like kittens though, pressing up against him and eager for attention, and it would be cruel to ignore them. So It didn’t take long for his arm to drape across Rhaenyra, finding a place in her lap and sneaking under her pretty white skirt in its eagerness to feel bare flesh. At the same time, Aegon almost melted beside him, his head coming to rest on Daemon’s lap. It was nice—one hand on each of them, just softly stroking them.

He’d like to do this more often. Or as much as possible, really. It was soothing in a way that, despite his best efforts, being by himself never seemed to be. When he was alone, he always had to be doing something, and he supposed with them, he was still doing something. But that something was relaxing, fulfilling and rewarding for them both in a way his work wasn’t.

Rhaeynra fiddled with the remote, navigating the menu of their tv with the deftness of youth. Once she had selected something, she nuzzled back against Daemon, a smile still on her face. He knew she was up to something based on her smile alone, but he still found himself a little impressed by nerve as the opening credits for a period piece played—followed by moans of a dark haired couple fucking while a pretty blonde girl played voyeur. He laughed in earnest when the brunette was revealed to be the blondes brother, as if that wasn’t fucking perfect.

“What?” Rhaenyra said, “It’s inspiring!” She insisted, and Daemon laughed again, unable to resist kissing her. It was a gentle kiss, all things considered—his eyes went back to the TV, while his hands remained gently stroking what was before him.

Though Daemon was trying to be good, his hand did naturally wander higher and higher, until it was between Rhaenyra’s thighs—playing with the lace trim of her underwear and pressing lightly against her mound. She was panting a little at the stimulation and Daemon decided to tease her a little.

“Princess you’re all flushed, are you warm?” He asked.

She narrowed her eyes, looking about as intimidating as an angry kitten when she said, “No.”

“Are you sure you aren’t too hot? Maybe you should take your dress off, kitten.”

She raised her chin, “Is that a command?”

“Would you obey it, if it was?” He asked, pleased when she responded with a nod.

“Take your dress off, kitten.” He said a bit more firmly, smiling as she managed to squirm out of it while still sitting. It wasn’t the most glamorous strip tease, but he was too distracted by the exposed skin to care about how it came to be revealed to him. She unclipped her bra, tossing it onto the floor with her dress—he definitely hadn’t asked that of her, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not with those glorious tits on display for him.

He did, however, stop her from removing her underwear. He needed something to prevent him from just bending her over and fucking her. The thin fabric wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. So he said,“You can leave those on,” and then, “Good girls don’t fuck on the first date, do they?” He asked and Rhaenyra bit her lip before shaking her head.

She retook her place beside him, the show still playing in the background—though now he was more focused on the pretty things next to him. His hand draped over Rhaenyra’s shoulders—not a casual touch, where his fingers rested on the slope of her arm. No, that would be the passing touch of a boy testing the waters on a first date, and Daemon had more confidence than that.

He had taken her bralessness as an invitation to feel her bare breasts, and it was one he wouldn’t hesitate to accept. She nestled closer against him as he stroked her collarbone, before moving lower and taking the weight of one breast in his palm. He played with the nipple a little, giving it a slight twist and delighting in her moan.

He was still petting the hair of the boy in his lap, who seemed to be feeling a little left out—he started nuzzling at Daemon’s length, hidden beneath black wool but beginning to stiffen. He pressed down on the boy's head in an effort to encourage him before gently cupping his neck. He wouldn’t squeeze, even if Aegon did consent, some kinks were just too dangerous for reality. But he provided a light pressure there, thinking the boy would enjoy the reminder of the power he was giving to Daemon

He probably would like a collar or harness. Something just a little too tight so the pressure served as an embrace and constant acknowledgement of his submission, not that he needed it, god it seemed to come naturally to Aegon. He wondered if he had gone into subspace before? How quickly Daemon would be able to get him there, just with some sweet words and a soft fucking?

While the boy was busy playing with his clothed cock, Daemon returned his gaze to Rhaenyra’s bare breasts. Compliments came from his lips unbidden as he played with her nipples, praise that just couldn’t be contained because she was so pretty. And she preened under it, shifting, and eventually pushing his hand lower—until it was cupping her cotton covered cunt.

It was oh so easy to dive beneath the thin fabric, dragging a finger across her clit before digging it into her cunt. She squirmed a little against the grip, and he pressed a second finger into her. She arched against his hand, forcing herself further down on his fingers before grinding against them. He wanted to laugh a little at her frustration—the angle wasn’t right, she could only really take them to the knuckle and clearly she craved more.

He must have let out some sort of noise marking his amusement, because she glared at him before taking matters into her own hands. She rather rudely pushed her brother away so her hands could access his belt and fly. Aegon sat up, looking like a kicked puppy. Daemon had little desire to reward the girl for her behavior, so he removed his fingers from her cunt and used them to cup her brother's jaw instead.

Aegon melted into the kiss that followed, his fingers digging into Daemon’s shoulders as he pressed more against his mouth. Daemon realized that despite all they’d done—the fact this boy had licked his cum out of his sister’s cunt, they had barely shared more than a soft kiss. He was a practiced kisser Daemon thought—and he should know, he was one too. He’d bet with the boy’s looks that the girl’s loved him in school. Though why he would be interested in them when he had Rhaenyra at home, Daemon wasn’t sure.

His tongue pressed at the boy’s lips until they parted, submissive and quick to respond to Daemon’s wants even without verbal commands. Daemon’s tongue lapped across his teeth before venturing deeper—only to pull back and change into something quite chaste. Daemon liked kissing—lazy make outs in bed that didn’t lead to anything.

But he liked this too, keeping his partners guessing and treating kissing being a game that was only exciting if you didn’t know who would win. He’d go from little pecks to biting to spitting if he felt like it and his partner obliged. He couldn’t recall where that fell on this boy’s limits list, though, so he didn’t venture into that territory. And he was so distracted by the boy’s lips, he forgot about Rhaenyra until her hand was on his dick.

He pulled away from Aegon in surprise, and Rhaenyra took that as an opening. With his length freed from his trousers and curling against his dress shirt, she settled herself in his lap—cunt pressed up against his cock. His hands naturally grabbed onto her hips—pulling her closer until he could feel the heat of her folds through the damp cotton of her underwear.

When he was confident she was balanced, his hands traveled to her waist. She was a curvy little thing, and he liked the way his fingers could dig in slightly to her flesh. He also liked the fact that his hands could almost encircle the smallest point of her. He wasn’t violent but there was a certain appeal, especially in a sexual sense, to a girl you could throw around.

But on this occasion, he was going to make her do the work. “If my fingers aren’t enough you’re going to have to get off without my help, princess.” He warned. Her eyes narrowed, and she braced her hands on his shoulder, seeming to take this as a challenge.

Daemon wasn’t about to reward the brat with more attention, so one of his hands returned back to Aegon’s hair so he could pull him in for a kiss. Daemon belatedly wondered if they should have established more guidelines for this—he’d neglected to ask about their experience with having a third partner. He assumed it wouldn’t be an issue, since it wasn’t mentioned, but he wondered if Rhaenyra would get jealous?

A little jealousy could be fun, he wasn’t above encouraging some competitive spirit in the bedroom. Who could take more of his cock down their throat? Fun. Who could come the fastest? Fun. Who could hold off coming for the longest? Also fun. But there was another type of jealousy that could come with threesomes—the type that curled in your gut and made you feel sick. Daemon hadn’t personally experienced it, but he’d been with enough people to know those who had.

The existence of threesome’s that ended with hurt feelings and tears because someone felt too neglected, or felt like they got too much attention, couldn’t be ignored. Daemon didn’t want that to happen here, but he didn’t want to ruin the mood either—so he’d follow his intuition, and hoped they all enjoyed themselves.

He licked further into Aegon’s mouth, delighting in his moans, which had the added benefit of opening his mouth and making the kiss even deeper. Daemon couldn’t remember the last time he just…kissed like this, it was nice. But not nice enough to distract him from the girl in his lap—for Rhaenyra was making a plethora of lovely sounds, too, pretty little sighs and whimpers and groans as she ground the crotch of her panties against him. It felt good to him, too, the bit of friction and pressure as she steadily moved against his length.

Her movements intensified, as did her grip on his shoulders, nails digging into the shirt that he couldn’t believe he was still wearing. She was thrusting in earnest now, truly taking her pleasure from his cock. God, it was really working for him too—he wasn’t sure he had ever come from that little stimulation? At least not in years, but fuck between her cunt and Aegon’s mouth he was about ready to explode.

He pulled away from Aegon—one hand still on his cheek as he looked back at Rhaenyra. She seemed singularly focused on her task, hips gyrating in a way that was really, really, hot. And then her mouth fell open—like she couldn’t control it, because it felt too good, and her moans got louder.

Fuck, he was going to come. He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he had to reach out and squeeze the base of his dick. Luckily she didn’t seem bothered, continuing to grind against him as she came.

God she was so hot when she did, the mixture of her little movements and moans almost took him there too. But there was a part of him that was aware he wasn’t a sixteen year old boy, and that dry humping—no matter how hot, was no longer an acceptable form of release. So while Rhaenyra caught her breath, her cotton covered cunt still pressed right up against his erection, he made a decision.

“Can you lift up for me princess?” Her movements were slowed from her orgasm, but that made her pliable too—she followed the instruction without the sass she usually showed. Once her cunt was level with the tip of his dick, he used his other hand to move the crotch of her underwear to the side. “Can you hold that for me?” He asked. She nodded, her fingers coming hooking into the cotton and exposing her cunt to him.

His hands returned to her hips, guiding her down onto the tip of his cock.

“I thought,” she gasped when he breached her, then continued, “Good girls don’t fuck on the first date?” She asked, breathily. He smiled, because clearly some of her sass was still present. “This isn’t fucking princess, just stay right there with just the tip inside you, okay?” He said, and she nodded, eyes a little glazed from arousal. Her thighs were shaking a bit, too, from the pose—making her cunt contract and clench around the tip of his cock in a manner that was pretty fantastic.

When he finally released the pressure at the base of his dick, the orgasm came quickly. He tried to keep his hips still, but he couldn’t resist thrusting a little, pressing maybe an inch or two into Rhaenyra as he rode out the release. He relaxed into the couch after, his softening dick slipping out of her folds with a wet sound.

Her hands fell to her sides, and he gently moved her underwear back into place, lazily stroking the wet spot as his cum seeped out of her cunt. “See, that wasn’t fucking, was it? I was just using your cunt to store my cum—but princess, it’s leaking.” He said almost smirking as she rutted against his fingers. Clearly someone was eager for another orgasm. “I don’t want you to ruin these, maybe you should take them off?” He asked, and she nodded, happy to except this flimsy excuse for the sake of nudity. She stood and slipped them off, but before she could retake her seat Daemon grasped her waist—pulling her down into his lap, so her back was against his chest.

She giggled, nestling up against him and letting her head fall back against his shoulder. When he was confident she was comfortable, his fingers traveled, pressing into the wet mess of her cunt and slipping up to her clit, spreading the juices until everything was delightfully slick.

“Aegon?” He asked, the boy’s eyes focused on where his fingers had roamed. “Let me see your dick, hm? I bet it is all hard from watching your sister get off. It’s your turn, no?”

He nodded—still seeming fascinated by the mess that was his sister's cunt. But he slowly stood, unbuttoning and pushing down the jeans he wore. His underwear followed soon after, and seeming embarrassed by wearing just a collared shirt, he stripped that off too.

“Gorgeous.” Daemon said, appreciatively, mindlessly slipping a second finger into Rhaenyra. “So hard, too. Come put it into this cunt—I got it all wet for you.” He encouraged, wiping his slick fingers on the skin of Rhaenyra’s thigh before hooking underneath them, gripping one in each palm and spreading her legs. She moaned at the action, leaning further against Daemon and tilting her hips upward, practically inviting Aegon to come closer.

Aegon did come closer, dragging his own fingers through her messy folds before looking back up at Daemon for approval. He was all to happy to give it, “It would be slutty for her to fuck me on a first date, but you’re her brother, so it’s ok.” He said, the logic twisted, but so was this entire fucking situation.

“You don’t have to make it good for her either, she already came. Just fill her up, hm? Girl’s love having their cunts flooded with cum.” He insisted. Aegon blushed at the crude talk, but didn’t hesitate—pressing his length in with a single thrust. The siblings let out matching moans at the sensation, and the expresion on Aegon’s face was truly delicious—as was the slight bit of pressure against his chest, each of Aegon’s thrusts rocking Rhaenyra against him.

Rhaenyra let out a little whimper, something about being “Sensitive.” Which Daemon teased her for, “What is sensitive? Your cunt? With that tiny cock in it?” He shook his head, mocking, glancing up at Aegon to enjoy the blush of the boy’s cheek. “I’m surprised you can even feel it, sweetheart.”

One of his hands wandered down her thigh, to the point where Aegon was thrusting into her. They both groaned as he teased the place where they were joined and the rim of Rhaenyra’s cunt. He let them get used to his fingers there, while he pondered his attack. The action was timed with Aegon’s thrusts, when the boy had pulled out an inch or two, he pressed his index finger against slightly stretched skin. Everything was slick from his cum, and Rhaenyra’s own release, and his finger managed to slip inside—only to quickly be pressed deeper by Aegon’s next thrust.

They both moaned, loudly, almost sounding pained, though their faces both spoke of pleasure. Daemon moved his wrist, so more of his finger could enter her cunt, making everything feel tighter for the pair, and that was all it took—they both came, a symphony of moans coming from their lips as they rode out their orgasms against each other. Daemon waited until after Aegon’s limp length had slid out to remove his finger. Then, in an unplanned move, he held the finger up to Rhaenyra—who stared at it for a moment before taking it into her mouth.

“Good girl.” He said, pressing a kiss to her hair and manipulating her so she was sitting sideways on his lap and able to lay down on the couch. Aegon sat down too, before partially pulling Rhaenyra into his own lap—seeming to find comfort with his fingers tangled in her hair. She rolled slightly, so she could press kisses to the bare skin of her brother’s pelvis. When she went lower though, threatening to kiss the limp length that had been inside her, he pushed her away—letting out a childish whine that it was, “Too sensitive.” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, but obliged, flipping back over so Aegon could stroke her hair.

They stayed like that for a while, one episode of the show—which admittedly Daemon had missed most of, turning into two. By the time the third one came on, they were all awkwardly asleep on the couch, slumped together while sitting up but managing to find rest regardless.

When Daemon woke up—with a crick in his neck, because he wasn’t in his twenties like some people.

(To this, Aegon had responded, “I’m actually nineteen!” Which had not made Daemon feel any less ancient.)

But it was still the best sleep he’d had in a long, long, time.

If this was what being with them on a couch was like, then he really couldn’t wait to get them into bed.

#Rhaenyra Targaryen #Daemon Targaryen #daemyra #fic #a03 #romance #fluff #prompt #daemon x Rhaenyra #HOTD #house of the dragon #ficlet #fanfic #aegon ii smut #rhaenyra x aegon #rhaegon #aegon x daemon #aegon x daemon x rhaenyra #angie writes

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muninnhuginn · 10 months ago

Note

for the ask game, spy x family 🕶💣

Sorry for the delay! I got ambushed by rl and then ambushed myself for several more days and-- anyway, I had to put this under the cut because it got long. Thanks for asking!

my favorite female character

yor yor yor. I like her for a few reasons, but I think the main thing is just generally her main emotional arc thus far. how she wants to 'belong' but how she also needs to 'fit in' and how it also circles around the idea of normality. she thinks she wants to be normal when what she wants is to be accepted. and she knows she needs to be *seen* as normal for safety reasons (sth sth societal commentary even outside of the cold war backdrop) but she doesn't understand *how*. what does it mean to be a mother and to be a wife and what aspects of that does she want to fulfill for herself and which is she just doing because it's part of her cover.

she has all these needs and wants and hasn't yet figured out how to even begin untangling them. and despite that, she's still one of the most emotionally intelligent characters in the series.

my favorite male character

loid. he's the obvious option but still. I always tend to appreciate the anxious types and whilst technically all of the main three have their own little anxiety spirals, loid's way of overcomplicating things is my favourite. he's a very intriguing mix of anxiety, denial, and competence.

I am very much enjoying the length of time it's taking to wear him down. we only got full confirmation he's actively compromised as of the mole arc which is super recent but for me the pacing is just right. he has to earn that character development and be dragged through kicking and screaming.

my favorite book/season/etc

volume 10 (starts with [redacted] arc and has some good handler moments (though I *think* my favourite handler chapter is later on))

my favorite episode (if its a tv show)

genuinely not sure. I do think the very first episode has a really good mix of comedy and earnestness with a hint of the underlying tragedy in growing up during wartime. it spells out everything to expect down the line in a very nicely balanced way

my favorite cast member

I... don't know? I think for Yor's VA this is my favourite role of hers whilst Anya's VA I prefer most as Frieren but like. IDK tbh. Can I skip?

my favorite ship

Not super into shipping in this fandom, but overall, I'd say twiyor. the fact that it's a 'fake' relationship but they enter into it on honest enough terms that they actually make something really healthy for both of them out of it. they each mutually get something out of it too.

yor wants to be useful. she's grown up providing for yuri and now he's gone all she has left is her job, but this 'relationship' and her new family give her the opportunity to *do* something. to defend and protect her people. and to give her someone to confide in, where she's never had that before.

for twilight, he's always been planning and preparing for all possibilities. always acting, never letting anyone see what's beneath, until he had forgotten even himself. one of my fave twiyor moments was in the recent chapter where twilight gets home and immediately his legs give out, because he feels *safe*. he's let his guard down with yor and even if he's worried about being compromised, he let it down because he trusts in her character. the remedy for someone so full of masks is someone devoid of them, and for all that yor is the thorn princess, she has never faked *who* she is.

and tying back to what I was saying about yor and normality before. the fact that loid knows what it's like to pretend means that he's in the position to tell yor that she's good as she is. she doesn't *need* to fake her whole personality to fit in. sure, they both have their covers, but for the large part, what's beneath is genuine.

a character I’d die defending

I think nightfall's character may not be as developed as most people would like at this stage, but the way she's written is very deliberate. she's a compare/contrast with yuri (and also to some extent, with twilight) and she shows how love and obsession intertwine. how *obsession* can be dangerous. the mole arc to me is waving a big red flag above nightfall's head and saying that if she doesn't change something, if she keeps metaphorically diving headfirst in front of twilight, then she's going to end up the one riddled with bullets.

a character I just can’t sympathize with

not that we're likely supposed to but donovan desmond

a character I grew to love

handler! it's not that I ever disliked her as such, but for a long time she just seemed a kind of girlboss-esque character with a neat character design. she had her moments (bond arc speech and also propaganda chapter my beloved), but it wasn't until we had her focus chapter where we followed her day that I was like "oh." Like, I knew that she'd lost her family, but I was falling for the facade that she was on top of everything. And the realisation that she wasn't? That she was deep in depression, but you know who might dig her out of it? Her pet dog and a little girl. Definitely got to me.

my anti otp

anti otp is a bit strong a feeling for it, but I think the way I read damianya differs from a decent chunk of the fandom. I tend to see it as one-sided and am perfectly happy for it to stay that way or for them to just end up becoming better friends down the line, but I know what I'm against here so I'm not going to place any bets.

#asks #ask meme #pinkie-satan #spy x family #sxf manga spoilers

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

(this is a sequel to 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞, I recommend reading that first although it’s not 100% necessary... it would make this make a lot more sense though)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : it was just a matter of time before he upped the ante, all four of you knew that, but taking you all on a vacation specifically for this was a bit over-the-top.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 7.9k (hoo boy)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex + a scene that’s just zemo/reader, cockwarming, d/s dynamics, brief oral f receiving, a touch of dubcon/cnc but it’s very subtle and the reader is 100% consenting), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink (with zemo), ‘daddy’ kink (with sam), orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, creampie, praise with light degradation, possessiveness (but also sharing, lol), exhibitionism/voyeurism, choking, brief anal mention, once again technically cuckolding but not in the typical sense, slight corruption kink?, too many robes, latin sokovian (or as I like to call it, serbukromanian), also assume that whenever the reader and zemo are alone they are speaking sokovian even though I write the convos in english for the sake of simplicity

thank you for being my beta @nsfwsebbie !!

When your Baron told you he wanted to take you on a vacation, you immediately assumed it would be to the mountains or some European city full of history and culture. Instead, you were a bit surprised to hear he was interested in a beach resort, a private villa he had purchased in French Polynesia.

And then you found out he wanted to bring Sam and Bucky along too… and you were simultaneously more and less surprised. More, because who brings tentative coworkers one barely gets along with on a romantic vacation? Less, because of course he would do this. Of course he had plans to dress you up in the tiniest bikinis he could find and show you off to the men who had already become pawns in his perverted game of social chess.

Not that you minded; you were the Queen of the board and it didn’t bother you if it was what the King wanted.

You spent the first night in the villa alone with him, which you appreciated. It had been a while since you two had some real quality time together, and you were craving him more than ever, in every way.

After a beautiful day spent swimming in the crystal blue ocean and enjoying the sights your new temporary home had to offer, you took a shower and tried not to get too excited about how you might be spending the evening with him. But, of course, you were only a few minutes into washing the saltwater off your body when you began to imagine his tongue on you, god that man could use his tongue to destroy you any way he wanted: with his words, with his kisses, or perhaps best of all with it tasting every inch of your cunt. It was amazing how he could get on his knees for you and still have all the power. He liked to make you keep eye contact with him while he did it, make you beg him to let you come, whatever it took to remind you that you were thoroughly and properly owned.

And you loved every second of it, you loved being helpless to him. He made you feel so safe that being vulnerable with him by now felt like no risk at all. You could remember early on when your fears and insecurities made you more hesitant to submit to him, and it was only with gentle patience that he coaxed you into it, never pressure or anger. You weren’t a virgin when you met him but, sometimes it felt like you might as well have been since you were so inexperienced and undersexed then. In fact, he was the first man, the first person other than yourself to make you come… and he made you come more ways than you had known possible.

Okay, so maybe the plan to not get your hopes up wasn’t going so well… you were already struggling to keep your hands from between your legs. Frankly, you would’ve already done it if you didn’t know that touching yourself was against the rules.

You’d gotten so used to taking care of yourself while he was in prison, at which point he obviously suspended that rule, and it was a hard habit to break at times.

You emerged from the bathroom in the fluffy robe you found on the door, smiling when you saw him lounging on the bed in a matching one, reading Анна Каренина (known by the West as Anna Karenina). He looked contemplative, as always, and you always thought he looked especially sexy in his reading glasses. You slipped into the bed beside him, resting your head on his chest as he found a position where he could read comfortably with his arm around your shoulders.

“You must’ve already read that book a thousand times, Helmut,” you sighed.

“And it gets better every time,” he mumbled back, turning the page.

You pouted slightly, nuzzling into his shoulder, and he chuckled. “Is my little lutka in need of some attention?”

You nodded, and he kissed the top of your head softly.

“Why don’t you keep me warm while I finish this chapter, hm?” he offered, and you involuntarily clenched your thighs together at his words. He phrased it like a question, but it felt more like a gentle demand, and you were happy to agree either way.

“Yes, sir,” you hummed as you sat up and straddled his legs, undoing your robe and opening his to wrap your hand around his half-hard cock.

He reached his full potential with only a few slow strokes, and you found yourself absent-mindedly licking your lips as you saw the way your fingers just barely met with your thumb and imagined how your body would be pushed to its limits to take him. Good thing you were already dripping wet even though you’d just been in the shower.

You indulged in rubbing your pussy over his shaft for a moment, enough to coat him in your wetness, before you lined up his tip to your entrance and sunk down onto him with a sigh, feeling like you could never tire of being stretched open by his thick cock.

When your hips met his, and the tip of his cock brushed against the deepest parts of you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. After so long apart, you were still readjusting to taking him and being on top didn’t make it much easier.

Honestly, you really weren’t trying to move; you just found your hips rocking slightly, seemingly of their own accord. You moaned under your breath as your clit rubbed against his body, but you were pulled from your trance with a whine as he slapped your thigh.

“No moving, draga, I think I made myself clear,” he reminded you sternly.

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You were pretty sure that at some point, you were a patient person. But you couldn’t imagine that now, not when all you could think about was how amazing it would be to just ride him right there, memories running through your mind and making your inner walls ripple unintentionally. He either couldn’t feel it or didn’t care, stoically continuing to read even as you were struggling to stay still.

Your plan was to be good for a while and then hope that you could convince him later… but you know what they say about best-laid plans, so you ended up cutting straight to the convincing pretty fast.

“Can I move yet, sir?”

“It’s hardly been a minute,” he frowned.

“Please,” you sighed, just barely moving your hips without even meaning to.

“Not yet,” he asserted, sounding a bit annoyed, but you needed this more than anything.

"Please let me move, please; I just wanna ride you so bad,” you begged.

He sighed, clearly irritated, and just when you thought you’d made a grave error, he finally put his book aside and looked up at you with a grin. "If I had known you would be so whiny, I would have had you keep me warm with your mouth.”

You opened your mouth to respond but let out only whimpery moans when he ran his hands up your body, toying briefly with your nipples before wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you down into a rough kiss. Moaning into it, you couldn’t hold back any longer and started to rock your body atop his, savoring that perfect drag of his length along your walls that you’d missed so much.

Before you got a chance to really set your pace, he grabbed you tight and rolled the both of you over, pinning you under his weight as he fucked you in that way that was somehow rough and slow at the same time, moving his kiss to your neck and holding you down by your wrists.

“Fuck, th-thank you, sir,” you sighed, your cheeks warming when he chuckled against your skin.

“You really are too sweet, draga,” he whispered.

Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs did the same to his hips, keeping him deep inside you while his lips and tongue teased your collarbones, his fingers interlacing with yours.

He spent the entire night somewhere between making love to you and fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come more times than you could count, only taking breaks from fucking you to eat you out like a starving man (and one time for a quick drink sometime around 3 a.m.). It was no wonder, then, that you passed out just a few moments after he finally came inside you, sleeping soundly in his arms until well into the morning, nearly noon in fact, when the sun was streaming in through the massive window.

After a relaxed breakfast of champagne and fruit (the native pamplemousse was unlike anything you’d ever eaten before), Helmut encouraged you to shower again and meet him at the pool, which was a bit surprising since he normally liked to have you keep his come in you as long as possible. “Our guests should be here this afternoon,” was his only explanation, and you had a few ideas about what that meant, all of which made your gut sink in an oddly pleasurable way as you were filled with anticipation.

“Wear that bathing suit I bought for you, the new one,” he added finally as he stepped out onto the back patio.

It might seem silly to have a pool on a property right by the beach, but on days like today, where the ocean water was just a bit too chilly, you were thankful to have the heated pool to take a dip in. Honestly, you were a little surprised that Helmut didn’t make you swim in the ocean to see your nipples get hard through the tight black bikini, but then again, they were already getting there just from sharing a pool chair with him.

He was lying against the cushioned chair; your body sat between his spread legs as the back of your head rested on his chest. And, this is entirely unrelated, but you really liked how he looked in the round sunglasses he had on.

You hummed contentedly as you reached up behind you to touch him, rubbing his shoulders and pecs. You wiggled a bit, slowly, and imagined how it would feel if he got hard right against the small of your back.

"Mm, what's gotten into you, lutka?" he purred, rubbing your arms.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "You know the effect you have on me, don't act surprised."

Just before anything exciting could happen, Sam and James entered through the fence, apparently already having changed into their swimsuits; you wished you had thought to wear sunglasses so they couldn’t catch you ogling their muscular bodies, but instead, you just tried to keep your cool as you waved hello.

“Welcome!” Helmut called out, both of you getting up to greet them properly. “I hope your flight was alright…?”

“Yeah, it was great,” Sam nodded, “thanks.”

“You really own this whole place?” James added, glancing around.

“Yes, would you like to have a swim? I hear it should be warm enough tomorrow for the ocean, but until then…” Helmut trailed off.

Sam went right ahead, diving in and smiling wide when he popped back up. That man had such an infectious smile, you thought he should charge people to see it or something because you felt spoiled seeing it for free.

James jumped in behind him but seemed a little surprised when he returned to the surface to see you back in your chair with Helmut. “Care to join us?” he asked you.

“Um, no, I already swam a bit this morning,” you remembered, suddenly shy, “I think I’ll stay by the pool a while longer.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to getting to know you better,” he pouted, and everyone else raised an eyebrow at that statement. “Um, verbally, I mean,” he added, cheeks flushing slightly.

“What would you want to know?” you asked, sighing as you relaxed against Helmut’s chest.

“Well, what’s your story?” he shrugged, swimming up the edge of the pool to hang his arms over the edge.

“I… suppose it’s a rather short story,” you realized, “I was born in Sokovia, but my parents were immigrants. I was a bit of an ugly duckling as a child, I think.”

“You look like quite the swan now,” James winked, and you hoped Helmut wouldn’t notice how much that affected you.

“Oh, thank you,” you mumbled.

“Which reminds me, that’s a cute bikini you have on,” he complimented.

“Do you like it?” you hummed coyly. “Helmut picked it out.”

“Why don’t you give them a better look, darling?” Helmut prompted, and Sam swam up to hang over the edge too as you stood up and fought the urge to cover yourself with your arms. The Baron motioned his finger in a circle, silently instructing you to twirl so they could see the back, and you did though you felt a bit self-conscious about it. Finally, once you were sure they’d had an eyeful, he let you sit back down in his lap.

“Cute, isn’t it?” he cooed as his fingers travelled slowly up your sides. “It’s Chanel.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam dismissed, unlatching himself from the edge of the pool and falling into a backstroke. “This is weird. I just wanna swim.”

“You didn’t think this was seriously a free vacation, no strings attached, did you?” James shot back, getting up out of the pool and shaking some of the water off of himself before sitting down in the chair beside you two and letting his eyes wander over you. “So, Chanel, huh?” he prompted, and you nodded.

“Helmut says I should only wear the nicest things,” you explained, sitting up slightly.

“Why does it matter? You’d look beautiful in anything,” James cooed, and you felt a little dirty for how much you liked his attention. Good thing you liked feeling dirty.

“And a rare wagyu steak would taste just as good served any way, but you wouldn’t put it on a paper plate, now would you?” Helmut countered. “Well, maybe you would…”

James rolled his eyes but brushed off Helmut’s insult, returning his attention to you. “I guess I’m just… hungry enough that it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

You reached up to trace your fingertip over the silver chain dangling off of his neck, biting your lip as you hooked your finger around it and pulled him closer. “Are you hungry enough that you don’t mind that it’s another man’s meal?”

His blue eyes went wide for a moment before glancing down to your lips and back up to your unwavering gaze, your brow raised as if a challenge while his furrowed as if he were considering accepting it.

“If he’s willing to share…” James whispered back.

“Then kiss me,” you requested softly, pulling him closer by his dog tags one more time until your lips met.

The way James kissed you was… difficult to describe. Gentle, but with this edge of intensity— like he was restraining himself, like there was so much more passion teeming beneath the surface. You wanted to bring that out if you could; you wanted to see how far you could push him until he lost it.

As James carefully ventured his tongue into your mouth, only to pull back and nip your bottom lip with his teeth, Helmut kissed you too— on the back of your neck, that spot that always made you wet and desperate right away. You moaned, and you couldn’t be sure exactly who it was for, but James sure decided to respond to it either way, tilting his head more to let his kiss explore you deeper.

Helmut’s teeth dug into your shoulder right as James nipped at your bottom lip like they had somehow explicitly coordinated to make you desperate; your right hand reached up to weave into James’ hair, your left squeezing Helmut’s wrist at your side.

The kiss ended just a moment too soon, and there was a delay before you blinked your eyes open to look back at James, who seemed quite proud of himself.

“Touch me,” you pleaded in a whimper.

“Where?” he asked, somewhat innocently.

“Y-you know where…” you mumbled.

He grinned wide, all trance of innocence gone. “I know, but I want you to say it.”

“My cunt,” you whispered, and he snarled just a bit at the word. “Please?”

“Of course, which one do you want?” James prompted with a grin, showing you his hands as your eyes instantly gravitated to the metal one.

“I think you know which I’m going to choose,” you mumbled shyly, and he smirked as he reached forward with the vibranium arm to brush his fingertips over your stomach, moving down to the top hemline of your bikini bottom.

You just barely gasped when the metal digits swiped over your clit and began to rub gentle circles, almost too slow as if he wanted to tease you… which, of course, he did.

"Do you like the way he touches you, draga?" Helmut whispered. His voice in your ear was like honey on your tongue, like honey everywhere.

"Yes, sir," you nodded, looking down at James' hand buried into your bikini.

"Hey, tell me you like it, too," James protested, "I'm the one doing it after all."

"I like it, James," you repeated, looking up at him. "I… don't have a title for you. Should I call you something when you touch me like this?"

"You can just call me Bucky from now on, okay? I think we're well past close enough now for that."

"Okay, Bucky," you sighed, watching the way his jaw clenched when you called him by name, "please put your fingers inside me."

"Both?"

"Yes, please," you breathed.

"But my fingers are thick, they're hard metal, and you're so small and delicate…"

"I want them to stretch me out, just please—"

A loud moan of shock jumped out of your mouth when he pushed the fingers in all at once, and though it reawakened some of the soreness from when Helmut had fucked you the night before, it felt wonderful enough to make your back arch up from the strong body behind you, his erection now digging into your hip.

It was certainly loud enough to get Sam's attention, who suddenly appeared beside the chair while he towelled off his chiselled chest.

"Damn, what are y'all doing to her over here?" he wondered aloud as if he were concerned for your health.

"Just playing with Zemo's little doll," Bucky answered. "She's really fucking tight, can barely fit two fingers."

"Wait, move over, let me see," Sam insisted, making Bucky pull his fingers out and Helmut holding you more firmly as Sam slipped his hand into your bikini as well, poking his fingers at your entrance before pushing them in.

His fingers were even thicker and longer than Bucky's, just by a slight margin yet enough to make you mewl and arch your back as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Fuck, yeah, you were right," Sam breathed, and you felt more hands running over your body but you couldn't even tell anymore whose they were; you knew one that reached to pull up your bikini top and expose your breasts was Helmut's, because only he would be so bold, but the fingers teasing your nipples, the rough palm running up your legs… they could've belonged to anyone, and that realization made your clit throb.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. I was here first," Bucky mumbled as you felt Sam's fingers slip out and the metal ones push back in— not to mention the thumb reaching up to circle your clit slowly.

He wasn't just exploring you this time; you could tell he had a mission. The way he instantly curled into your spot, the way he moved quickly yet deliberately, all made your thighs begin to quiver.

Helmut kissed your ear, gently tilting your head to access your neck better where he began to suck hard enough to leave a mark, mumbling something in Sokovian about how good you were being for him and his guests.

You loved being good, and the praise made your hips lift a little so you could rock yourself onto Bucky's fingers; the three men chuckled proudly.

"Feels that good?" Bucky pressed, and you nodded quickly.

He fingered you even faster, harder, and you cried out.

"Ohhh fuck, Bucky!" you gasped. "Bucky, I'm gonna come!"

"Oh no, you're not," Helmut groaned, giving you a quick spank on the inner thigh as you whined and jolted. "James, take your fingers out."

"Do I have to?"

"You do if you want a chance to fill her with more than just your fingers…"

That worked right away, Bucky pulling back as you pouted at being empty again.

“Let’s take her inside, and we can continue this there,” Helmut suggested, and Bucky lifted you up into his arms as the Baron led the group back to the master suite.

The convenient thing about bathing suits is that it takes so little time to get naked, which is why the second the patio door was shut, Bucky and Sam were stripping as their hard cocks bobbed up against their stomachs. As if that weren’t overwhelming enough, Helmut stepped away for a moment (which left you feeling more alone than usual) just as the men began to help you strip; Sam untied the back of your bikini while Bucky knelt and pulled down the bottoms, leaving you feeling exposed as you were totally bare before them. Bucky smiled up at you and kissed along your thighs while Sam grabbed a handful of your ass and growled a bit under his breath.

When you looked over at Helmut, you saw he had actually dressed in his robe rather than stripping, nearly making you whine with disappointment. But you couldn’t focus on that long as hands moved all over your skin, both of them still just slightly wet from the pool, and you shivered for both of those reasons.

You gasped when Bucky suddenly licked a thick stripe right over your folds, and if it weren’t for Sam’s arms holding you up, you might not have been able to stay standing.

Looking down at where Bucky was devouring you, he looked back up at you with a lot less dominating intensity in his eyes than you were used to seeing. Not that you minded; after all, no one could do what Helmut did as well as he could, but maybe Bucky could do something different, and it would be just as enjoyable. His tongue lapping at your clit was certainly wonderful so far.

Sam guided one of your hands back behind you to stroke his cock, your mouth falling slack, which he took advantage of by turning your face and capturing you in an open-mouthed kiss. You heard your moans stifle against his tongue, felt his cock flex a bit as you smeared the precum you found at his tip.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Helmut interrupted, and everyone turned to look at him. “Darling, come here,” he instructed with a curled finger that pointed to the bed, “hands and knees.”

You nodded and pushed the other men away, taking your place on the bed and looking up at him as he held your jaw gently.

"How long has it been since you had another man inside you, lutka?" he asked lowly.

"I can't even remember,” you admitted, “it's been so long…"

“Are you willing to try it?” he asked gently, no hint of domination or pressure in his tone, and you found yourself searching his eyes for the right answer.

“What do you want?” you asked him instead of answering.

“Draga, I’m asking what you want,” he reminded you, but you were afraid he would be hurt if you showed interest in the other men. Sure, previous evidence indicated that wasn’t an issue for him, but your gut instinct was to deny your attraction. So, you compromised.

“All I want is you,” you answered first, “but…”

“But?”

“But is it awful if… if I want them to fuck me, too?”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “No, I don’t think so. Only as awful as it is that I want to watch them fuck you.”

You looked up at him and smiled back, brimming with gratitude that he was so gentle with you. It was fascinating how he wielded complete control over you and yet never used it against you.

“I have one rule, draga,” he added firmly, “you cannot come for them. You only come for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And stay on your hands and knees, so I can always get a good look at you, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kissed you one more time before pulling away and sitting back in the chair in the corner with his ankle over his knee, looking at Sam and Bucky expectantly. Every chair he sat in seemed to look like a throne as soon as he was in it.

“Well, get on with it, then,” he instructed, motioning to you. The men looked at you and looked at each other before some kind of silent agreement took place and Bucky stepped up first. Sam sat down to watch you as you felt Bucky stand near the bed behind you, flesh and metal fingers running over your back until you shivered.

Then he pressed his cock against you, coating himself in your wetness, and that made you shiver, too.

You braced yourself as he lined himself up, whimpering slightly as he pushed his cock into you as well as hearing him moan lowly. The hand at your waist tightened as he hissed in a breath through his teeth.

"Fuck," he breathed, holding you still so he could fill you completely. “S’tight…” he slurred.

“How does it feel for you?” Helmut asked you, raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, your mouth fallen slack, yet your brow furrowed.

“It feels… different,” you stammered your answer. You gasped loudly as Bucky started to move, and yes, this was very different. His cock was curved differently and though it didn’t exactly reach any new parts of you (you were sure Helmut had already touched every part of you physically accessible), it did stroke them in new ways.

He gained speed rather quickly, clearly too on edge himself to stay patient, and you didn’t blame him although it sent you moving faster toward the edge than you would’ve liked. At first you wondered if it would even be a challenge to keep from coming like Helmut had demanded… you chided yourself internally for ever being so hubristic.

His legs pushed yours apart, spreading them wider, and he began to really fuck you in earnest, fast and needy and each slam of his hips against your ass harder than ever. “O-oh fuck,” you choked, forcing your eyes shut and scrunching up your nose for a second when he slammed the tip of his cock right into the deepest spots inside you. This position left you with nowhere to go, put your whole body on display for him along with giving you no escape from his onslaught of pleasure. Worst of all was that you were pretty sure he wasn’t even trying that hard to make you feel good, and yet feeling used like that only turned you on more.

"Bucky, please, slow down," you whimpered.

"Absolutely do not do that," Helmut interjected sternly. "Don't let her tell you what to do."

And, possibly just to spite you, he actually fucked you faster. You sobbed and bit down on your lip, fighting everything building up inside you.

“You’d better not come,” Helmut warned through his teeth, “you’d better not fucking come. You know how bad it would be for you if you came for another man.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you nodded.

But Bucky was slamming right into your spot, and he knew it, too. He knew how desperate you were becoming, and apparently, he didn’t mind at all that you’d be punished for it. He leaned down to growl against your ear, “I know how close you are. Don’t you think it’d feel so good to just let go and come on my cock?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as the force it took to hold back your orgasm became painful. “No, it would only feel good to come for Helmut…”

“C’mon baby, just stop fighting it and come for me,” Bucky taunted, “squeeze me tight with that sweet little pussy; I know you need to so bad.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you blinked with teary eyes up at Helmut and wanted nothing more than to please him and make him proud of you. “Please, m-make him stop,” you begged, “I won’t be able to hold back anymore…”

“He’s not going to stop until he comes, lutka, and you need to stay strong,” he explained, his voice soothing you slightly. “You need to be my good girl. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

Bucky held your hips tight as he pulled your body back onto his cock, and you forced your eyes shut to try to focus on not coming. No other man had made you come in your life but Helmut, and you had no intentions of breaking that streak.

“Think you can make me come before I make you come?” Bucky challenged.

“I have to,” you answered breathlessly. “And I want you to come… I wanna make you come so bad, Bucky, please…”

“Mhmm?” he encouraged.

“Please, I want it, please come for me,” you whimpered.

“Fuck, I will,” he promised darkly, fucking you even harder.

Helmut interjected a brief instruction: “Pull out.”

Bucky nodded a little, breathing heavily as you felt his cock throb slightly, especially at the base where each movement stretched you out even more. It was so beautifully erotic and you were tensing every muscle inside you to try not to come, which helped speed him up quite a bit since you were gripping him so tight.

“Fuck,” Bucky grunted, “fuck!”

He pulled out and instantly painted your back with a roar, sliding his cock over your ass as he pumped stream after stream of come onto you. You sighed happily, satisfied that you had managed to stave off orgasm with perhaps only a few seconds to spare— you’d never been so happy to make someone come before because this time it brought relief that you had done well for your Baron.

Then again, you always felt that way when you made the man himself come, but this was different because you had been moments away from failing him.

Speaking of the Baron, he stared down at you proudly the whole time, kneeling down slightly to swipe his finger through the cooling spend on your back and bring it to your open lips. “Mm, you really are my perfect little girl,” he mumbled as you sucked his finger diligently. But he turned his attention away from you to call out across the room, “Sam! It’s your turn.”

Your eyes went wide. “W-wait, Helmut, I’ll come!”

“No, you won’t,” he hissed, eyes darkening again, “because I told you not to.”

And Sam was already behind you, taking Bucky’s place who had already cleaned himself up a bit and returned to his seat, letting the Baron pour him a drink which he gulped down in one go.

When Sam pushed into the end of you, your natural instinct was to arch your back up to try to keep him from going too deep, but he growled and pushed your back down again with a strong hand that made you feel so small for a moment. “No, baby, no running away… you’re gonna take it all.”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathed, yelping a little when he roughly shoved in that last inch.

From then on, he went much harder on you than Bucky had, spanking you and gripping your ass while he fucked you, and the most embarrassing part was how much harder it made it to keep from coming. It was clear that he realized making you come would give him power over everyone else in the room for different reasons, and he was determined to gain that power.

“Does he fuck you this good, huh?” he groaned.

“He fucks me better,” you shot back right away, making Helmut chuckle slightly.

“If your plan is to make her switch allegiances, you’ll have to do better than that,” Helmut taunted, and Sam doubled his efforts as one hand pinched your clit and the other groped your breast. You almost lost it right there but managed to pull yourself together, your whole body shaking with the effort to keep the pleasure at bay.

“Well, if he can fuck you better then why doesn’t he?” Sam continued his leading questions, even though you could barely keep up a conversation at this point. “Why does he keep pimping you out to us if he’s fucking you right all on his own?”

“Don’t you understand?” you breathed, your head falling down onto the bed as you were almost able to look back enough to see his face. “This is my punishment. He knows I don’t want anyone else; that’s why you’re here.”

Sam smiled, perhaps in pity, and yet you honestly had to close your eyes because his smile was so lovely that it could’ve brought an end to your restraint. “Poor thing, he’s really got you whipped. I… still can’t believe I’m doing this, but you feel too good to stop now.”

He yanked your head back by your hair for emphasis, making you yelp as he fucked you brutally. Your toes curled and your fingers dug into the sheets, and you had to close your eyes because the way Helmut was staring at you made this all much too difficult. Maybe it was just that he didn’t seem jealous at all, or angry; but he didn’t seem like he was getting any excess pleasure out of this, either. It was… almost neutral, but something burned behind his eyes brighter than maybe you’d ever seen it, his legs crossed and his fingers interlaced as he waited for you to either hold or break.

With the top half of your body fallen limply onto the bed, you reached out above your head and felt Helmut’s hand grab yours, squeezing slightly, and it helped keep you grounded as you held his fingers.

“Oh fuck, ‘m gonna come,” Sam groaned out his warning, “gonna cover this pretty ass in my come, you want that?”

“Yes, please,” you shuddered.

“Keep begging for it,” he demanded, rushing his words as you felt his cock start to throb against your walls with his impending orgasm.

“Please come, please come, please come on me, Sam, please,” you chanted, over and over, struggling not to come and hoping that if you could speed him up, then you could make it.

He grunted through his teeth as hot ropes of seed covered your ass; though your body was left wanting, dangling on the edge so close to your release, your mind was satisfied that you had managed to follow your Baron’s rules.

Sam stepped back to admire his work, finding another spare robe to cover himself with as he rejoined the other men across the room.

“Would you like a drink as well?” Helmut offered to Sam, unfortunately letting go of your hand in the process. Sam was still catching his breath, running his hands over his short hair as if he was processing everything.

“No, but are those cigars up for grabs?” Sam replied, pointing to the ornate box propped open, and Helmut nodded.

“Of course; what’s mine is yours,” he answered, presenting the box and lighter to him.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Sam added flatly, the three of them all looking at where you were sitting, covered in come and waiting patiently for your next command.

Just as you feared they’d all have their cigars and whiskey and ignore you completely, your Baron knelt down to look at you face-to-face, smiling proudly.

“You did so good for me, darling,” he cooed, and your insides clenched as if you could come just from hearing that. “You don't think I'm horribly cruel, do you?"

"No, sir," you smiled weakly.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised with a kiss to the tip of your nose as he stepped away to the master bathroom.

You glanced at the other men— Bucky with his crystal glass of whiskey, Sam puffing at the cigar stoically— and wondered what, if anything, you could possibly say.

“So, how’s your weekend been so far?” Sam asked you plainly, breaking the silence.

“It’s only Friday night,” you realized, sighing as you tried not to imagine how much debauchery the Baron had in store for you. Right now you were so exhausted that it sounded like too much work; and you were so desperate only for Helmut that the idea of anybody else being involved intimidated you.

Helmut returned quickly with a washcloth, sitting beside you on the bed and placing it gently on your back.

“As pretty as you look covered in come, I’d rather not make too much of a mess,” Helmut explained as he wiped you down with the damp cloth, your skin tingling and your body crying out for more of his touch.

“Will you fuck me, sir?” you mumbled, somewhere between an honest question and a desperate plea.

“Yes, I will,” he answered, making you hum happily, “and I’m finally going to let you come.”

You bit down on your lip, trying not to moan just from hearing that.

“But I’m not going to let you stop.”

The lump in your throat was impossible to swallow, but you tried anyway as he tossed the rag away and circled the bed, standing behind where you were laying limply. He grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down to where he needed you, covering your body with his as he kissed the back of your neck slowly.

“I bet you’ll come the moment I’m inside you, draga,” he whispered. You nodded in agreement, gasping a bit as you felt his cock teasing your swollen, sore pussy. Just the tip bumping into your clit was enough to make you think you could come right there, you’d been on the edge so long.

But then he pushed into you in one stroke, not rough yet enough to reignite the soreness of being filled by two men already, and your walls started to pulse around him. A million words swirled in your mind, words about how perfect he felt and how you’d missed him so much and how no one could fuck you like he could, but none of them made it to your mouth where you could only moan loudly.

He wrapped his arms around you, he kissed everywhere he could reach, and waves of pleasure washed over you until tears filled your eyes. You lost count immediately, coming on his cock over and over as you became a limp, whimpering mess right away.

“You two really did miss out,” Helmut taunted the other men between his own moans, “it feels so fucking amazing to be inside her when she comes. She gets tighter every time… blyat, so tight I can hardly control myself.”

It was already hot to hear him speak to you like that in these moments, but for him to speak to someone else, to keep you from forgetting that you weren’t alone and that these men had just fucked you and were watching you come right now? You hadn’t even imagined before what that would be like.

“Please, please, sir, please,” you chanted, your voice breaking until you could barely whisper.

“What is it that you want, lutka? Do you even know what you’re begging for anymore?”

“I want whatever you want, sir, please,” you cried. He reached around your body to rub your throbbing clit, and you all but screamed.

“I know you do, beautiful, I know,” he breathed, kissing your back and shoulder tenderly to calm you. “I love you so much, draga, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I love you too, Helmut,” you whispered, “more than anything. I love being yours.”

“Aw,” you heard Bucky briefly sigh.

“Dude, shut up,” Sam corrected him harshly.

“It’s sweet!” Bucky defended.

“It’s weird; this is all so weird,” Sam frowned.

“You didn’t seem to mind before…” Bucky trailed off.

Two of Helmut’s fingers swiped over your open lips and you immediately sucked them into your mouth with a satisfied hum, the taste of his skin always comforting you. When he rolled you onto your side, it was so much easier for him to touch you wherever he wanted and it only did more to keep you overwhelmed with pleasure until you worried you couldn’t take much more. But you kept sucking his fingers, tears still falling which he occasionally kissed away, until he took his hand away to wrap around your neck instead. You nodded a little to let him know it was okay to choke you, and your loud moans fell to sudden silence when he tightened his grip.

It made your eyes roll back, it made your walls flutter and your toes start to go numb, it made you wonder if you were going to pass out whether or not he let you breathe again because your body was already ready to give in.

You sucked in a gasp when he let go, sobbing his name as a particularly deep thrust knocked you right into your peak again. He kept one hand on your neck as the other reached between your legs to play with your abused pussy as he fucked it harder than ever.

“I can’t come anymore,” you assured, shaking your head and trying to push his hand away from your sore clit. “I— I can’t…”

“Yes, you can, draga, I know you can. Just relax and let me keep making you feel good,” he instructed, somehow both gentle and demanding all at once.

“I… I can’t…” you breathed, nearly incomprehensible between thick sobs, but you were already coming again in spite of your words, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body from the inside out. He choked you out into silence again, praising you all the way through it.

“There you go, shh, it’s all right,” he soothed, “you’re so beautiful, darling, so good for me, just keep going…”

You reached back to lace your fingers into his hair and tug, which did nothing to deter him from kissing your neck just beneath where his thumb gripped it, same as your hand wrapped tightly around his wrist didn’t stop him from quickly rubbing your clit.

Breath filled your lungs when he let go, and you were so desperate for relief that you felt like you weren’t even in control of your words anymore.

"Please come inside me," you begged mindlessly, "please, I need you so bad, please…"

“Is that what you need?” he groaned. “You need to be full of my seed?”

“Yes, please, want it deep in me— fuck, Helmut, please!”

He growled and bit your ear lightly, mumbling his promise to fill you up in Sokovian— sometimes you thought he spoke Sokovian when he was about to come because he was so distracted that he forgot English, but you didn’t think that at the moment because you were currently too cockdrunk to think about anything.

His low moan echoed right through your body as you felt his cock flex and throb with each pump of come, just as deep as you’d wanted, and you sighed happily at the familiar feeling, finally relaxing into the mattress.

But perhaps you relaxed a little too soon because he made you come one more time after he’d filled you, whispering something about he wanted to use your pussy to milk every drop from his cock, but after that finally he pulled out, and you collapsed face-down onto the bed, ready to pass out even though the sun was only just beginning to set and you’d slept until noon earlier.

“Well, I think we sufficiently knocked her out,” Sam chuckled.

“‘We’?” Helmut repeated, sounding a bit offended yet bemused as he redressed.

“Okay fine, you did most of the heavy lifting, but only cause you wouldn’t let her come for us,” Sam relented with a frown.

“I swear, I was this close to getting her to break,” Bucky interjected, sighing before taking another slow sip of his (third) drink.

“Yeah, what would’ve happened if one of us made her come, anyway?” Sam wondered aloud. “She seemed pretty worried about whatever punishment you had in store for her.”

“Nothing too terrible,” Helmut shrugged, “I just would’ve fucked her in the ass.”

Bucky choked on his whiskey as Sam tried and failed to suppress a smirk.

“She lets you do that?!” Bucky blurted out between fits of coughing.

“She lets me do whatever I want,” Helmut replied, “I’m surprised that hasn’t become abundantly clear to you by now.”

“I guess we’re still adjusting to it, that’s all,” Sam explained. “I don’t know about you,” he looked at Bucky, “but this is new for me.”

“I was born in 1917; everything is new for me,” Bucky frowned.

“Well, this is new for us too,” Helmut assured, “especially her, she was so inexperienced when she met me…”

He paused for a moment to reminisce before glancing at you lying prone on the bed and looked totally fucked-out.

“But look at her now!” he finished. “She takes it all in stride.”

“Yeah, she’s a trooper alright,” Sam agreed. “Be careful with her, Zemo, ‘cause I think if you hurt her too bad, Bucky here is gonna be waiting in the wings to steal her.”

“I— what?!” Bucky snorted defensively.

“Don’t think we can’t see you giving her googly eyes, not that I blame you or anything… getting deepthroated for the first time will definitely make you catch feelings,” Sam smirked before taking a puff of the cigar again.

“It’s not like that, I’m just… listen, I guess I’m just a bit more conventional than you perverts,” he frowned. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, I just can’t imagine having a girl like that all to myself and letting anybody else lay a finger on her.”

“Not everyone is as insecure as you, James,” Helmut shrugged. “Women can’t be stolen. They can only go where they want to. And she wants to be with me.”

He turned back to ask you if you agreed, but you were already fast asleep. Smiling slightly, he grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and unfolded it to drape over you; you instinctively cuddled up under it without waking up, letting out a quiet sigh.

“Goodnight, draga,” he whispered with a kiss to your forehead. “Rest well, you’ll need it for the morning.”

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #helmut zemo smut #bucky barnes smut #sam wilson smut

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marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

This Side of Normal Chapter Four

AO3

Technically, it was an accident. Well, more than technically. It was definitely a legitimate accident that Jason figured out their secret identities only a month after meeting them. Chat Noir’s should’ve been the easiest, given the fact that he saw the boy on nearly every billboard in Paris. However, it wasn’t the billboards that gave it away. It wasn’t even the ungodly number of times the kid’s perfume ad came on the tv. No, it was the shocked “Jason” that the boy spluttered out when he bumped into him in front of the school. Without a mask. Yeah. Not subtle at all. Ladybug’s just fell into place after that. What with the tiny dark-haired girl shooting him worried glances as she patted Chat’s back. Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste. Agreste. Gabriel Agreste. Hawkmoth- fuck. That’s why the kid seemed so down every time they worked on a plan to prove Gabriel was Hawkmoth. Shit. Well that settles it. Hawkmoth was going down, and he was going down soon. The kids could handle themselves, and with Jason willing to fight with them...Gabriel won’t know what hit him.

----

“Oh god. Oh god. I messed up. He’s not gonna help us anymore and I messed up and-” Adrien rambles, a panicked expression taking over his face.

“Adrien, it’s okay. Please breathe, it’s okay.” Marinette says lowly, gently rubbing his back.

“He knows who Hawkmoth is, Mari. He’s gonna think I’m a bad guy too.” Adrien whispers, his eyes filling with tears. Marinette’s heart breaks as she looks at her best friend and the crushed look on his face.

“Jason’s a good guy. He’s always making sure we eat enough and take care of our injuries, and he always asks if we’re getting enough sleep. He’s like….he’s like our big brother. He’s not going to abandon us just because he knows your dad is a major jerk.” Marinette says matter-of-factly. Adrien frowns, but nods.

“What do we do?” He asks. Marinette scrunches her eyebrows, not understanding the question. “I mean, what do we do about him knowing? Do we ask him to leave Paris? Or do we just act like we don’t know that he knows who we are?”

“I think we wait, see if he brings it up. I trust him, Adrien. I know that we haven’t known him for long, but he’s always had our best interest in mind. He cares about us, and as much as it hurts to say, I think he cares more than Master Fu did.”

“Why do I feel like everything’s gonna change?” Adrien asks, his voice small as he curls in on himself.

“Because it is. But it’s not necessarily a bad change.” Marinette says, hoping her voice sounds cheerier than she feels. She’s also felt the shift coming for awhile, felt the way the air seemed to spark with energy. Adrien frowns again and Marinette wraps him in a hug, knowing that no matter how good the change would be for the majority of Paris, her best friend would be hurt. He would suffer, and there was nothing that she could do to take away all of the hurt that is sure to come. No matter how badly she wanted to.

----

Jason paced the length of the roof, trying to figure out a way to broach the subject of identities with the kids. He didn’t want them to stop trusting him, but he also didn’t want them to feel like they <i>had<i> to confirm it. He also really didn’t want them to ask him to leave. How was he supposed to be there for them if he wasn’t allowed to <i>be<i> there? Thinking back to earlier this afternoon, Jason huffs in annoyance when he remembers how young both of them looked. Three years. For three goddamned years these kids had fought something bigger than themselves, and they had done so alone. Alone, with no one but other kids to help until even that was taken away from them. Taking a few shaky breaths, Jason tries to calm himself. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna let himself be controlled by some asshole in a butterfly costume. No way he’ll let that asshole use him against those kids. Someone clearing their throat makes Jason’s eyes shoot open as he looks over where he heard the noise. He grins, hoping the kid isn’t overthinking too much.

“Chat may be a little late tonight. He got caught up with something in his civilian life.” Ladybug says, dressed in her usual training clothes and domino mask, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“You okay Pixie Pop?” Jason asks, frowning. She purses her lips and Jason can tell she’s weighing how much she should say. Taking a chance, Jason says “I saw you guys today.” The girl sucks in a deep breath and nods.

“Yeah, yeah I know.” She says, and Jason gives her a minute to collect herself and decide if she wants to say anything else about it. “How much do you know? I know you saw us, but…”

“I know his name. And I know what you look like behind a mask.” Jason says, and the girl nods before she starts pacing.

“I trust you, Jason. I really do. And I told Chat that it would be okay and that you care about us, but if there’s even a small chance of you being akumatized you’ve gotta go because even though I trust you, I can’t risk my identity and his identity and I’m sure you understand that. Especially with who we think Hawkmoth is because it’s already bad but if he found out it would be even more bad and now Chat is worried that you’ll hate him because of you know, everything, and that’s why he’s not here yet because he’s scared that you’ll look at him differently and-” Ladybug rants, stopping as Jason kneels down to be eye level with her.

“Hey Pix, I’m gonna need you to breathe okay. I told you that I would help you guys, and I’m not gonna leave just because Chat Noir got the short end of the stick. I don’t hate him, and I’m sure as hell not gonna let myself be akumatized. I’m here for you, both of you. And I’m not gonna let some jackass in a butterfly costume chase me off from helping you guys.” He says, talking in the voice he used when he was talking to street kids as Red Hood. The voice that was meant to be calming, but not patronizing. The voice that was laced with concern, and the reassurance that whoever he was talking to didn’t have to run away. That they were safe.

“You’re really not gonna leave?” She asks in a small voice. Jason shakes his head.

“No, I’m here. And I’m not just gonna ditch you guys. If anything, finding out who he is just made me wanna get this done quicker. Get him outta that house.” Jason says, and Ladybug nods.

“Did you- did you want to know my name?” She asks, and Jason instantly sees the worry in her posture. She’ll tell him, but he can tell that she doesn’t want to. At all. Not that he blames her. A lot sits on her shoulders. Jason shakes his head.

“You can tell me after, if you want. But you don’t have to say anything now, okay Pixie?” Jason smiles softly as Ladybug’s shoulders instantly relax. She grins and pulls out her phone, probably to tell Chat Noir that it’s safe for him to come. The two wait in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before a soft thud announces the kid’s arrival.

“Hi Jay.” The boy says quietly, curled in on himself as he obviously prepares to be yelled at.

“Hey kiddo. I’m not mad at you, you know that, right?” Jason asks, making sure to keep his body language relaxed despite how much he wants to go and beat the shit out of Gabriel Agreste.

“You don’t think I’m a monster?” Chat asks, and Jason shakes his head.

“I’ve met monsters, kid. And you’re sure as hell not one.” He says.

“But my father-”

“I don’t give a damn about that piece of shit. You’re not him. You’re the kid who thought he could fit twelve marshmallows in his mouth. You’re the kid who cheers on LB no matter what. You’re the kid who makes god awful jokes, seriously the only one with worse jokes is my brother. You’re the kid who stepped up and helped to protect Paris when no one else would. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not your father and you’re definitely not a monster.” Jason says. Chat- no, Adrien lets out a choked sob and rushes forward, wrapping his arms around him. Jason freezes for a minute, before wrapping his arms around the kid, watching for butterflies. It’d be just their luck for Gabriel to akumatize Adrien when he was finally letting himself cry. Jason glanced over at LB, noting that she was also watching the skies. After a few minutes, Adrien’s cries slow down to sniffles before he takes a step back, his cheeks bright red under his mask.

“Uh, I- um, sorry about that.” He apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Don’t worry about it kid. What’re big brothers for?” Jason asks with a cheeky smirk. He snorts when he sees the kids’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Did Buginette tell you about that?” Adrien asks, and this time it’s Jason’s turn for his eyebrows to shoot up. He glanced over at Ladybug, surprised to see her entire face bright red.

“I er, um, no I didn’t.” She stammers out, looking everywhere but at Jason.

“Tell me what?” Jason asks, still confused why the two were acting so weird.

“Well, I, um, you see-” Adrien cuts off Ladybug.

“She says you're our big brother.” Adrien says with a grin. Jason’s confused face is instantly replaced with a wide grin.

“Well of course I am.” Jason says, unable to wipe the grin off his face. Jason snorted at the thought that Bruce was gonna have to get two more rooms ready at the manor (it was safer than Jason’s apartment and he was not about to put these two in any more danger than they’ve already been in for three years).

“So big bro,” Adrien starts, his wide grin still stretched across his face. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re gonna get Hawkmoth’s miraculous. Tonight.”

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @laurcad123

#maribat #maribat jason todd #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat adrien agreste #fanfic #ao3fic #platonic jasonette #platonic maribat adrienette #This Side of Normal

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty Little Picture (3/3)

okay so TECHNICALLY this was for day 3 of @malex-cupid but then ice robbed me of my wifi for like two days. So here is now. Whoops. (thanks for reading!)

warning for mild sexual content which i forgot to say at the beginning of the last chapter my b

ao3

Alex woke up to a heavyweight on his spine.

It took him a few moments to register it and he had to crane his neck a bit, but, sure enough, Michael was passed out against his back. His cheek was smushed against it and he was definitely drooling a little bit, but Alex didn’t mind. With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the pillow.

His eyes closed as he thought about the night before. About kissing and touching every inch of him that he could. Neither of them really anticipated that, so they didn’t have lube to do anything too strenuous, but they definitely managed to have fun regardless. Maybe it was too early, but he didn’t regret it. It felt good and they worked weirdly well together.

However, the peace of it all only lasted a few minutes before Michael’s alarm started to go off.

“Why does the world hate me?” Michael whined, slowly peeling himself off of Alex to go turn it off. In that time, Alex flipped onto his back. It didn’t stop Michael from falling right back down onto his chest. “You don’t have any chest hair.”

“Good morning to you too, I guess,” Alex laughed, raking his hands through Michael’s fucked up hair. They needed a shower. They were going to take one the night before, but they very quickly got distracted. “I shave it or get it waxed, it gets itchy.”

“Really?” Michael said, scratching his chest gently, “Mine doesn’t.”

“I think it really only starts getting itchy once you’ve started shaving it. Like Liz says she doesn’t get how Max has such hairy legs without it being itchy because hers get that way if she tries to go more than a week,” Alex explained, yawning halfway through. Michael hummed thoughtfully and then turned to prop his chin upon his chest.

“Sounds plausible,” Michael decided. Alex hummed softly, letting his eyes slip closed out of pure selfish reasons. He was warm and comfortable and he didn’t want to get up. “We can stay in bed a little later if you want. Brunch instead of breakfast, remember.”

“How long until then? ‘Cause we both need showers,” Alex pointed out. Michael shifted, moving up a bit more until Alex sensed him just hovering above. He opened his eyes slowly to look at him.

“Two hours,” Michael said softly, eyes drifting across his face, “But we could take one together. Save water and time.”

Alex huffed a laugh, rubbing his hand up and down his arm before leading it up to his neck.

“Genius.”

“Yeah.”

Michael moved down, kissing him much slower than he had the night before. He let the rest of his body press up against Alex which made it very clear he hadn’t bothered to put any clothes on. Alex had at least remembered boxers.

“You’re so warm,” Alex said fondly, his hand gliding over his broad shoulders and the dip of his back.

Michael smiled softly, his nose nudging against Alex’s before his tongue made its way into his mouth without hesitation. Alex tugged him closer and kissed him deeper, not quite ready to let him go. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready to let him go.

Alex wasn't sure how long they laid there just kissing as if they did this all the time. Maybe they could make it a new habit because it was just... nice. Nice to wake up and have him there and have full reign.

Michael was his roommate. They'd lived together for three years. How the hell hadn't this occurred to him before? And this... this wasn't even a stupid crush that he had because Michael was doting on him. He liked him. He *wanted this.

However, Alex managed to keep his expectations low despite his desires being high. They fell into bed the night before under the understanding that this was just a one-time thing, friends helping friends, they were already pretending to date and so why not? That was the precedent. Alex couldn't and wouldn't expect more.

"Do you know what today is?" Michael asked as he broke the kiss and slowly started leaving soft pecks down his neck. Alex snorted.

"Don't be cheesy."

"It's Valentine's day," he said anyway, "I didn't get you anything."

"I didn't expect you to get me anything."

"Well, that makes me a bad boyfriend," Michael hummed, lifting himself up just enough to look at him in the eye, "So what do you want?"

"You really don’t wanna ask me that,” Alex whispered, eyes training on his mouth. He put his hand on Michael’s cheek and let his thumb graze his bottom lip. Michael took a shaky breath.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said as he took a deep breath and watched Michael follow his thumb with his tongue, “Might make you fall in love with me.”

Michael huffed a laugh, smiling wider by the second. Alex liked the way it felt. He liked how all of this felt.

“Alex,” he said, shaking his head a bit. Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t get to say anything before Michael started gravitating down. “Alex. Tell me what you want.”

Alex replaced his thumb with his lips, breathing him in. He arched his back into him and reveled in the feeling of skin on skin. How had he not wanted this before the weekend?

Simple, he realized after a few seconds of thought, he had wanted it before. He just didn’t notice that it was an option. And, it wasn’t. Not really. This was temporary. But, God, it felt good.

“This. I just want this,” Alex said, voice barely a whisper and somehow still a beg.

Michael, ever the obedient caretaker, slipped his hand behind his back while the other went to his knee and hiked his leg up onto his hip. Alex’s hand slipped into his hair and kissed him deeper. He swallowed every noise he made.

Alex had known he was gay for as long as he could remember. He’d hooked up with boys from all walks of life since he moved for college: pretentious young artists, bratty trust-fund babies, a couple of football players who weren’t out yet, and a rich 50-year-old who very clearly had a lot of experience. None of it held a candle to this, to Michael kissing him and grinding against him and choosing this over spending time making good impressions.

That almost made it more surreal, that he was choosing this. He could’ve woken up awkward, could’ve blamed it on the wine, but he instead kissed and touched Alex more. It felt like he was being lit on fire from the inside in the best way.

Michael moved his hand between them, palming Alex over his boxers with no shame.

“I can’t believe we, two adult queer men, didn’t fucking bring lube or more than the one condom you had stuffed in your duffle bag,” Alex groaned, feeling a bit lightheaded as Michael didn’t stop. He just laughed softly, rocking against him.

“It’d been a little presumptuous if we had, don’t you think?” Michael asked. Alex genuinely, from the bottom of his heart, didn’t give a fuck about being presumptuous anymore. “I mean, if you wanna try, we can‒”

“Nope.”

Michael laughed, “You didn’t even hear what I was gonna say!”

“I know you. Spit only works if you want it to hurt,” Alex said. Michael huffed a laugh, tongue flicking across Alex’s lips because that’s apparently something he thought was a calm and collected thing to do.

“Fair enough. But if you wanna‒”

“No, nope,” Alex laughed, slapping his hand over his mouth. Michael beamed at him. “I’m not so impatient that I’ll risk a trip to the hospital. And we still don’t have a condom, so I can wait.”

Michael twisted his head until Alex moved it off his mouth, favored the feeling of raking it through his hair. His face went all soft in response like a cat that sincerely wanted to be pet. Alex scratched his scalp for extra measure.

“Fine,” Michael hummed, “We can wait.”

And Alex was quite sure he was going to fucking explode at this point. Waiting implied it was going to happen again and not when they were in this little bubble where they were boyfriends, but when they got home and were back to normal.

“Let’s go take a shower,” Alex said softly, needing to stay busy before he got his hopes up too high.

Michael nodded and got up slowly, leaving him with a few more kisses before he climbed out of bed. He stretched up and Alex took in the shape of him. His muscular back, his long torso, his tan skin, his nice ass.

He was so completely and utterly fucked.

“Okay, wait, how do you do this?”

“It’s not hard.”

“Clearly it is because I have no idea how you make it look good.”

Alex was grinning so wide it hurt as he watched Michael through the mirror. Michael had taken ahold of the blow dryer in the middle of Alex drying his hair and did it for him, combing through it and everything. When it got the pair Alex usually just pulled it back into a little ponytail and ruffled what didn’t fit, Michael got that intense look on his face and his tongue stuck out of his mouth as he tried to figure it out. Alex was giddy as he tied it back, decided it looked wrong, and took it down over and over.

“My hair is short, it’s not going to be perfect,” Alex said. When he’d gotten it cut the last time, they’d cut it to be chin-length (three inches shorter than requested) and he was still dealing with the consequences of not just driving down to Roswell to have Maria do it. “Just take your thumbs, try to get an even amount from both sides, and tie up the top half.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“And it’s looked fine. I’m gonna have to wash my hair all over again if you don’t stop soon,” Alex teased. Michael scrunched up his nose irritably and rolled his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried one more time. It looked nearly identical. “See? It looks fine.”

“How do you make yourself look so good? I’d be jealous if I didn’t get the benefit of looking at you every day,” Michael said. Alex rolled his eyes, but couldn’t deny the warm feeling that rushed through his system.

“Luck.”

“Mm, I believe it,” Michael hummed, moving some of Alex’s hair out of the way to leave a kiss on his neck. Soft and sweet and definitely not long enough. “Okay, okay, get away from me or I’m going to drag you back to bed.”

“See, that’s not going to convince me to get away from you.”

“No lube, no condom,” Michael recited, like a mantra that was more for himself than Alex as he took a backward step towards his bag. It reminded him that he was still in just a towel.

“Are you so boring that you can’t think of anything to do with those limitations?” Alex asked. Michael swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and turned around.

“It’s on days like these I ask myself, ‘Self, why have you let yourself be drawn in by lust and temptation? Is it not enough to admire from afar?’” Michael spoke wistfully as he dug through his bag. Childish giggles slipped through Alex’s mouth. “No, apparently, it’s not. I’ve been a respectful roommate and upstanding member of society, keeping my thoughts to myself for years and then I get one taste and I’m nothing but a useless sack of needing-to-pleasure-Alex cells. That’s it.”

“Years, huh?” Alex asked. Michael froze for a moment before he shook it off and pulled out a pair of chinos and a collared shirt.

“No. I don’t know, maybe. Yeah. I don’t know,” Michael mumbled, dropping his towel. Alex bit down on his bottom lip and took a very careful breath, trying not to do something embarrassing like twirl around the room and sing I Feel Pretty at the top of his lungs.

Definitely feeling pretty and witty and gay at moment.

Instead of focusing on that‒because, wow, that’s a lot to focus on‒Alex took out his eyeliner and drew his wings a bit more bold than he had been the last two days. Riding on that high, he even flipped his septum down. If Michael thought it’d be a problem, he’d tell him before they got downstairs. Hopefully. One of Michael’s female coworkers had multi-colored hair so it should be fine.

He took a step back and looked over himself. Black checkered pants, a loose black button-up that was half tucked in and half out, his hair a Michael special. He looked good. He felt better.

By the time he picked up his phone, he realized he hadn’t actually texted Liz since The Before and she was probably freaking out. As told by her series of messages.

Liz: HELLO ALEX HE DID W H A T?

Liz: Do I need to get Isobel on his ass?

Liz: Are you okay? It’s been a couple hours

Liz: Text me when you can and let me know if I need to come rescue you in the middle of the night

Liz: It’s the middle of the night, I’m going to bed, so I hope you don’t need saving.

Liz: However, if you don’t text me by tomorrow, I will assume you have been murdered and I will be filing a police report.

Liz: It’s currently 7:30 AM. You have until 10 before I assume the worst.

Alex: jesus liz

Liz: OH NOW HE ANSWERS

Alex: I am in fact alive

Liz: What happened last night??? You went MIA

Alex: ……….

Liz: NO YOU DID NOT

Alex: Listen. He’s really good at giving head.

Liz: I could’ve gone my whole life without knowing that but OH MY GOD

Liz: WHAT HAPPENED TO SELF CONTROL

Alex: Went out the door along with my dignity apparently

Liz: For real tho are you okay? That probably wasn’t great for your crush

Alex: I think it’ll be okay. I’m not keeping my hopes up or anything and I’m gonna have a real conversation with him once we leave, but for right now I’m content with him kissing me constantly

Liz: Oh shit it’s still going on?

Alex: It is still going on 😌

Alex: Remind me next time I go on a random trip with someone that even if I don’t expect to get laid I should bring condoms

Liz: omg Alex did you pay attention to sex ed at all

Alex: literally no I did not, half of it was no use to me

Liz: sigh. What am I going to do with you

“Alright, let’s go get brunch. Don’t let me have mimosas because if I drink at all, I can’t promise I won’t get myself fired,” Michael said. Alex slipped his phone into his back pocket to look at him, a grin easily finding his face.

“Aw, you look like such a little frat boy.”

“I am in a fraternity.”

“We don’t talk about that, it’s bad for my health,” Alex said, tilting his head back as Michael moved in and grabbed his hips. One hand moved up to his chin, holding him in place as he kissed him. “Can I have mimosas, though? I promise not to get messy.”

“You can have literally whatever you want,” Michael murmured against his mouth, leaving him one more kiss before he pulled away. “Let’s go.”

Somehow, going downstairs and parading in front of everyone as a couple didn’t feel any different than it had the first two days. They made small talk and ate good food and Alex drank two mimosas alongside Michael’s coffee.

“I can’t get over how cute you two are,” Alisha said, somehow having found her way to them again. Alex gave a warm smile despite wanting to slip and hide beneath the table at the sight of her. In her defense, so did the sight of everyone else. “You’re literally, like, glowing.”

“Well, what can I say? He just does something to me,” Michael said wistfully, giving Alex a face that said he was teasing. Alex held back a smile.

“It’s like you’re still in the honeymoon phase!” Alisha said. Alex almost laughed out loud that that. They kind of were in the honeymoon phase. It would just be drastically shorter than everyone else’s because it would end by the time they got home tonight.

That alone was almost laughably horrible.

“It’s easy when he’s got a face like that,” Michael cooed, reaching out to pinch his cheek. Alex laughed and leaned away only to be tugged back closer.

It was going to be weird when Michael wasn’t attached to his side anymore.

After brunch, they were supposed to have a nature walk again, but before Michael and Alex could go on their way, Jeannie and Curtis called them back. A few other interns turned and looked, but they went on their merry way until it was basically just the four of them.

“Come walk with us for a bit, I wanted to show you two my favorite place,” Jeannie said, a big smile on her face. Alex locked eyes with Michael for a moment and then they began to follow.

“You know, Michael, I was going through all the supervisor notes that Khalil has for your group. You’re a standout. Very focused and hardworking, but I see it’s probably helpful that you have a strong support system,” Curtis pointed out as they walked. The two of them were much more appropriately dressed for a nature walk than Michael and Alex, but, in their defense, they just planned to go to the creek again.

“Thank you, Sir,” Alex said before Michael had the chance to, “He deserves it.”

“I think so too,” Curtis said, warm and fatherly and Michael found Alex’s hand and squeezed, “You make a good team. I’ve watched how you know when to let the other do the talking when they’ll be better equipped. That’s very important if you want to climb ranks.”

Alex raised a suggestive eyebrow at Michael who just held onto him tighter. He rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb in hopes it’d help him calm down.

“Alex, when are you set to graduate?”

“This fall, if all goes well. Taking a couple of summer classes to help get there,” Alex said. Curtis nodded and looked over at Michael.

“And you’re set to graduate this semester,” he said‒not a question. Michael nodded evenly, eyes flitting to Alex as if looking for permission. Alex nodded back. “What’s the plan for after college?”

“Well, I already take piano gigs for some of the local schools’ choirs and give a few piano lessons to a few young kids, hoping to expand though. My kind of thing can pretty much go anywhere,” Alex said, knowing it sounded good. No big, painful uproot if he needed Michael in a different branch somewhere across the US. You know‒because to him they were together. Long term.

“And I’m just hoping to keep working for Disionic in any way I can,” Michael said. Alex squeezed his hand in approval.

“For how long, do you think?” Jeannie asked. Michael’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked over at Alex. He mouthed a ‘forever’ at him, watched him gulp, and smiled encouragingly. It was a big and false commitment. Big companies really liked it when they feel you’ve signed your life away to them.

“For as long as I can.”

“And you’d be willing to go to other branches if we needed you? We’ve got a branch in New York and Houston, but we plan to open another at some point in the next five years. And hopefully expanding in some other, more inventive work. Would you be interested in that, Michael?” Jeannie said.

Alex had always been aware that, when it came to things like this, there was an important balance between partners. Curtis wasn’t wrong in saying that a nice balance, knowing who needs to speak when, was important and helpful. Alex had been under the impression that while Jeannie was the warm one who was probably a fantastic hostess and enjoyed it, Curtis was the strong businessman who really only focused on the business part of things. Now, Alex quickly caught up to the realization that, while that may be true, Jeannie called the shots.

For a stupid second, Alex pictured him and Michael like that in a few years.

Funny how he spent his whole life wanting to get away from that environment and 1.5 hookups later, he was ready to sign up for a lifetime of being a good hostess.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Iverson. I-I’m obviously still learning how everything like this works, but I’m a fast learner,” Michael insisted. Jeannie laughed.

“I hope to watch you do that over the next couple of years,” Jeannie said, “Right, Curtis?”

“Nothing’s official yet,” he said, looking over at Michael with a fond smile, “But I do think there’s a more permanent spot for you in our business.”

Again with the squeezing Alex’s hand so hard it nearly hurt.

“After you graduate, of course,” Jeannie tacked on.

“After you graduate.”

“Thank you so much,” Michael said, trying to keep his excitement to the bare minimum.

Alex thought it was adorable though he didn’t know why he was so surprised. Michael had regularly gained favoritism from many, many people throughout his life. Teachers, bosses, baristas, the bus driver that would literally wait for him if he was running a few minutes late. Michael was an easy face to love and he worked hard and he was endlessly kind.

And each moment that passed Alex wondered how he’d been so blind to his own favoritism.

“Oh, and here’s what I wanted to show you,” Jeannie said as they started moving uphill a bit.

They stopped as they got to the edge, a cliff that overlooked a decent-sized body of water. It must’ve been where the little creek they’d sat by yesterday led to. There was a metaphor in there somewhere.

“This is where my Curtis brought me nearly 25 years ago now where he told me everything he wanted to do in the future and asked me to be a part of it,” Jeannie said, looking up at Curtis with a nearly disgustingly fond look. Alex wanted that. “I think it’s a good place to talk.”

“And, speaking of, Alvaro is calling,” Curtis said as his phone started ringing. He gave a polite nod and turned, immediately answering the call in Spanish. Alex was actually pretty impressed with his accent.

“Right, well, let me go make sure he places nice. You two have fun and make sure you come to sit by us at lunch, alright?” Jeannie said, waving goodbye as she followed her husband down the slope.

Michael and Alex didn’t speak as they waited impatiently for them to get out of sight and, hopefully, out of earshot.

“Alex,” Michael whispered, “Alex, I think I’m going to throw up.”

“What, why? Are you okay?” Alex asked, letting go of his hand to rub his back. Michael’s face, finally free of schooling himself for Jeannie and Curtis, was full of pure shock and disbelief. “Hey, this is a good thing.”

“I know it’s a good thing, it-it just feels really real all of the sudden. Like. Really real. Like, I don’t get it levels of real. I’m not supposed to have this,” Michael whispered, shaking his head as he looked out to the water. Alex took a step closer.

“What are you talking about? You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met and you’ve worked your ass off. You deserve this more than anyone,” Alex insisted. Michael shook his head.

“I’m supposed to still be barely scraping by in Roswell. I’m-I’m never supposed to get out. I’m supposed to become another statistic,” Michael said, looking over at Alex with furrowed eyebrows, “I’m only here because you gave me a place to live.”

“Shut up, I didn’t do anything. You would’ve found a way and you would’ve been right here with or without me giving you a place to live,” Alex insisted, “That was purely selfish reasons, too, I didn’t wanna live alone.”

“But Curtis was right. I-I get by because, like, a support system. I get by ‘cause of you,” Michael said. Alex again rolled his eyes.

“You’re giving me way too much credit here. You’ve got Isobel and Max and a whole group of friends. And back in Roswell you’ve got Sanders and Mimi and Arturo who would’ve done anything to see you thrive. And that’s not even counting the tons of people who gave you opportunities. Look, you’re definitely lucky and you could’ve very easily ended up stuck in Roswell without a little of that luck, but you’re also hardworking and smart. Playing the system is a part of this life we’ve been dealt, okay? And you’re playing it well,” Alex explained. Michael took a deep breath.

“You play it better,” he whispered.

“Will you stop making this about me?” Alex laughed, putting his hand on his cheek, “You’ve done great this entire weekend and clearly well enough for the last few months if Khalil talked you up that much.”

Michael stared at him for a long few seconds, silence. He looked tired and overwhelmed in a way he hadn’t this morning like everything had suddenly just hit him. Alex tried not to get worried about what else might’ve just hit him. He leaned forward despite himself and kissed his cheek slowly before pulling back, smiling in the most encouraging way possible.

“What if I don’t want to do it without you?” Michael asked.

Alex blinked once, twice, three times as he processed his words. He didn’t move away.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we make a good team. And… And I like having this with you. I like doing this. I’m comfortable with you and I trust you and I’m not nervous,” Michael said, huffing a soft laugh as he looked away for a moment before looking back, “Everything else is new and scary and way out of my depth and, like, technically you are too, but you don’t feel like it. You feel safe. And I wanna do this with you. Charm the pants off of rich people and then have sex in rooms they pay for. Or in our own bed or whatever. You get the point.”

“Yeah,” Alex whispered, taking a shaky breath and he really thought about just stripping and jumping into the water below. He probably would’ve if he knew it was deep enough. “I think I get it.”

“I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” Michael said, then quickly looked at him with wide eyes, “That’s definitely not me saying our first ‘I love you’, I’m just, like, saying.” Alex laughed, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he nodded. “Thing is, I didn’t realize we’d be a good fit. Or that we’d be too risky and it’d be messy if we broke up. Now… Now I feel stupid for not noticing it before. You literally feel perfect to me, for me. That’s dumb. This is embarrassing. I just wanna kiss you and pretend I’m Robin Hood and do scandalous things like feel you up beneath the table while my boss sits across from us for, like, the rest of my life or whatever.”

“Michael,” Alex laughed, putting his other hand on his other cheek and just holding him in place, “Want me to say something even more embarrassing?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, eyes shining a bit more. He still looked overwhelmed, but it was a bit better.

Alex took a deep breath and looked as serious as he could muster, looking into his eyes.

“Will you be my Valentine?” Alex asked. Michael’s face scrunched up and he laughed, grabbing Alex’s hips and tugging him closer.

“That was disgusting, boyfriend,” Michael said as they stood nose to nose. Alex was giddy with it. He didn’t have to get his hopes up when Michael was already there to meet them.

And maybe Alex had a shot at a future full of it.

“C’mere, boyfriend.”

Alex: something may or may not have transpired

Liz: Oh???

Alex: so, like, that little crush? Very big. Very reciprocated.

Liz: OMG. KNEW IT.

Alex: no you did not

Liz: Michael has literally been giving you heart eyes since before he knew he was queer. I so knew it. Isobel called it first tho

Alex: and you said NOTHING to me???

Liz: As if you’d believe me

Liz: Besides I didn’t know if he knew yet or if he was actually willing to pursue so I wasn’t gonna make it worse

Alex: so rude

Alex: I’m gonna go make out with my boyfriend now and fantasize about being his housewife

Liz: LMAO you could never be a housewife

Alex: no I’d hate it but that’s why it’s staying a fantasy

Liz: HAVE FUN

Alex: absolutely will

#malexcupid21 #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #verse: pretty little picture

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mmmleckerlecker · 3 years ago

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I was reading the questions you've answered, and I'm curious now: you said that the co-existence between preds and prey is very recently. So I was thinking the HP world from years ago, when pred could snatch up whoever prey they wanted... How was the society in that time? How did they live? (Headcanon: prey lived underground?) Did the preds have no qualms in consuming whoever they could find? (prey children/teens or the elderly, for example?)... The harmony was founded by a prey or pred? (1/2)

What was the reason for the preds to make the jump from consuming indiscriminately to the public/private contracted prey? (another headcanon: preykind severely disminishing in numbers?) I find your worldbuilding so enchanting, I'm sorry for the avalanche of questions. You're awesome! (2/2)

AHHHH YES!!! THE QUESTION I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! No need to apologize!!! I have considered making a post about stuff like this for awhile now but I’m always like “do people REALLY wanna hear all that?” But now i have the perfect excuse. Thank you, anon! You’re awesome too!! (WARNING this kinda turned into a chapter length read. So I hope y’all like to read history about fictional worlds.)

Okay so. This is all stuff I’ve sorta kept in my head and have built upon when I’ve had ideas, so sorry if there are some gaps currently haha.

So I imagine preds and prey started trying to “make peace” about five centuries ago but didn’t start living in true “harmony” until about two hundred years ago. And I use the term “harmony” loosely because clearly there’s still a lot of infighting happening. Before that, the preds and prey lived in two entirely separate cultures. The prey lived in larger, more stationary groups while the preds lived in much smaller, more nomadic groups. They also DEFINITELY didn’t speak the same language.

So for preds, the groups they would live in were more like traveling pods that consisted of maybe 1-3 families living/working together. Having groups of preds getting too large was… not sustainable. It would create too much competition for food. So each group would usually give other groups of preds a wide berth. Granted there were definitely still spats for territory, especially if said territory had a good supply of prey available.

Prey, much like in modern times, were never really the preds’ main food source, however. Preds would still hunt and gather like normal. It would usually take some organizing to get a raid together on a prey village (or a pred could just get lucky and stumble across one that wandered off alone). Consuming prey all the time was just too much effort. They weren’t a practical food source nor a completely sustainable one if they were over-predated. Also! Keep in mind, the more a pred consumes, the more their body acclimates to handling such a large meal. It would be better for the preds to consume every once in awhile and have their prey take longer to digest (hence, keeping them fueled longer) than to consume ALL THE TIME and risk addiction. I think consuming would probably become more regular in the cold months too, when it was harder for preds to find other food sources.

As for WHO the preds would consume? Definitely adults would make for the best meals. Children? Well, I imagine prey would be very protective of their children, first of all, making them difficult to obtain. But also they would just make… not as filling meals? Also prey children are mostly the same size as pred children so there might be that little hesitation there on the pred’s end as they’re reminded of their own kind. I guess if the pred is desperate? There’s always gonna be a time and place for special circumstances. As for the elderly… I imagine they also live in places that are harder for preds to get to. I also think if a prey managed to live that long, they would have a trick or two up their sleeve. But like I said, there’s always a possibility for things to happen.

Now for how prey live…. Like I said, they live in larger groups. There is safety in numbers, after all. These groups were basically villages, sometimes even cities where prey could really know their territory and set up defenses against any invading preds. (An underground dwelling is really cool idea tho! I also believe that prey evolved to be able to fold themselves up and be comfortable/feel safe in tight spaces that preds could never reach them in, so prey living in like a cave system might actually work really well!) Like it’s been stated in the story, prey tend to have a lot more children than preds for “just in case.” This could cause their towns to become rather large and populous sometimes.

Prey, also unlike preds, usually tried to keep in contact with neighboring towns/villages/cities. This was one of the key factors for what made it possible for the shift to both sides living in harmony to happen. Since the prey lived in settlements and kept in contact with other prey settlements, it allowed for a certain development of culture as well as the sharing and recording of knowledge that preds… just didn’t have. Prey were able to develop things like farming and running water. They could study math and science and share their knowledge in libraries and schools. They were really on their way to becoming an advanced society, they just had one big (both figurative and literal) problem holding them back. They constantly had preds attacking and killing off their people.

Despite their efforts to fight them off, the prey just weren’t winning. So they decided, if a war against preds wasn’t going to get them anywhere, then why not make peace? The first step for this was the prey learning the preds’ language. This was… dangerous, of course. But it was done enough that the prey were able to open conversation with preds. Just this move alone caused a huge shift between both sides. What are you supposed to do when your food, which for centuries has only babbled nonsense at you before you swallowed it down, suddenly starts speaking to you like an equal? It certainly gave preds pause, but not enough to stop consuming. Not that the prey didn’t expect this. They approached the preds with more than just a common language. Their first big move was offering them food. And not just any food, but GOOD FOOD. Cooked food, decadent food, spiced foods, foods that preds didn’t have the resources (nor the patience) to prepare.

Sharing food took… probably a little more effort than one might expect. Prey and preds view food fundamentally different. To prey, it’s sustenance but also something to enjoy and connect with. To preds, it’s simply something to stop hunger. There was a sort of learning curve for preds to actually learn to ENJOY food for its flavor, but once they got it… OH BOY!!! A door was opened! Because despite LIKING prey food, the preds weren’t always so good at preparing it, so it gave the prey something they could exchange for safety. (This is also something that persists into modern times. Preds are still often stereotyped as not having very refined palates and not being very good at preparing food. This is referenced a little in Heart Pangs itself as well as the one-shot I posted last week!) Once the food trade became established, it opened up relations enough to exchange other things!

The prey shared would they could with the preds in exchange for their own survival. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it SEEMED to work but then the preds turned on them and things went downhill very quickly. But the prey had the advantage of sheer numbers and determination on their side (that and if they didn’t keep pushing they would literally be eaten alive). It took generations of negotiations, but the preds and prey eventually came to a sort of truce, though consuming never stopped entirely.

The preds weren’t stupid, they saw the prey had a lot of good stuff to offer them. At first they took what they needed and went their separate ways, but as they gained more trust from the prey, the preds encroached more and more into their territories until both sides were more or less neighbors. There were some advantages to this. If both sides cooperated enough, they were able to make further advances as civilized societies. But there were also disadvantages… like the fact that the preds were always bigger and the prey were always making sure not to anger them so it became very easy for the preds to take whatever they wanted and leave the prey with less than they deserved.

The prey even began to lose their own language as most of the preds couldn’t be bothered to learn the prey’s language (although a lot of prey terms for food and science stuck around). The preds stopped being the enemy who lived outside the prey’s walls and suddenly became the bully who lived next door. Yes, technically the prey were a little safer than before, but the advantages they once held over the preds were slipping away as the preds claimed more and more of what the prey had until the preds were able to start developing their OWN advantages.

For a long time, the preds and prey operated as two different societies that lived in one space, meaning each group had their own leaders and their own laws. But as things began getting more and more strained between each side (as they tend to do when two natural enemies live side-by-side), the prey (once more) tried to make peace. They made the bold move of reaching out to the pred leaders in an attempt to work together and function as a singular society (although both sides more or less continued to live as two societies, just under the rule of one government). The preds were surprisingly open to this change, which was a relief to the prey… at first. But then it became clear that this was mostly just a power grab for the preds to acquire more status and wealth and power amongst the prey.

Besides the fact that a lot of prey were falling into poverty because of this, the most glaring issue was that the “unification” had made it even easier for a lot of preds to break the peace and consume prey with barely any consequences. This caused a lot of prey to flee and seek out safer, more remote places to live. Eventually it got to the point where the prey leaders threatened to break away from pred society completely. The preds didn’t like this, though, as they’d gotten very used to having prey within easy reach. They also knew that losing half the people in their society would cause a lot of problems in terms of keeping everything running smoothly. However, the preds very much did not want to give up consuming entirely. It was in their nature after all, they argued.

So after A LOT of negotiations, both sides came to a compromise. The preds would actually start enforcing consuming as something illegal UNLESS the prey being consumed had agreed to it beforehand. Obviously the prey leaders couldn’t see any prey ever AGREEING to being consumed, so they settled on the compromise thinking that was the end of it. This was the true beginning of the “harmony” between preds and prey, but of course, the preds always have something up their sleeves.

Rich preds began offering up money and food and shelter to all those desperate prey in poverty. Those prey could get everything they could ever want for, the only payment was their lives ending in said pred’s gut (after a specified amount of time). These ventures started slow, but once they started to catch on, BOY DID THEY CATCH ON. The desperate prey began hearing about certain preds who were practically giving away wealth, all it took was a signature written in (figurative) blood. Meanwhile preds began hearing about other preds who had found a loophole in the consuming law and wanted in on the action. Like any good entrepreneur, the preds turned their contracts into a business and started selling them to other preds.

The prey leaders, of course, despised this, but what could they do? It all aligned with the compromise they had made. The only thing they could do was stand by and help come up with regulations for this new practice. So they did. Over the decades, the contracting businesses grew to what they are today (large corporate monsters… although the smaller, more private contracts still exist) as well as became the core to keeping the peace. Even the government itself offers contracting services now.

Society has shifted considerably in the years since harmony was reached. The two sides have mostly learned to live with each other. Prey have fought viciously to be treated as equals while a lot of preds go their whole lives without consuming (particularly fatally) even once. And, as you know, the development of neutralizers allowed preds to experience consuming without having to hurt anyone. A lot of progress has been made, but a lot of progress still needs to happen.

And I think that pretty much catches us up to the setting of Heart Pangs (whew)! I keep thinking it would be really cool to write a story that takes places in an earlier time period to further explore how different the relations between preds and prey would be, but I have yet to come up with a plot haha. Maybe someday. I’m sure an idea will come to me at a proper time. Anydays, thank you for your interest! It was really nice to be able to (finally) type all this up somewhere!!

#ahhh this is so much info!!!#but i hope some people are interested in it!!#if i accidentally raised more questions than answered them feel free to ask tho 😂#asks #heart pangs #heart pangs worldbuilding

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

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3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian - ch. 3

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Chapters: 3/3

Read chapters one and two on Tumblr.

Chapter three summary: Sam and Bucky take a breather from Sharon’s party in High Town.

Sam walks back into the room from before. The one that could be a high-end boutique, or the lobby of a shady but untouchable law firm, or the backdrop for a photoshoot featuring an Avenger who wanted their surroundings to exude enviable elegance and expensiveness without at all detracting from their presence. Not to name names, or speak disdainfully of the dead.

Shrugging off the brown leather jacket Sharon leant him, Sam tosses it at the couch. Yeah, technically it’s on a collision course with the back of Bucky’s head, but since Bucky dodges without turning to look, he figures he can claim poor aim. Which Sam would normally never do, especially to Bucky, but he has downed a few drinks tonight. Sharon wanted them to blend in at the party; Sam couldn’t see an easier way to blend than by doing his bit to deplete the contents of the event’s bar. He sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there pumping his arm to the beat like that motherfucker Zemo. Sam doesn’t know exactly what to blame for the Baron’s excruciating dance moves, he’s just glad he got away. Being near enough to Zemo for people to assume they were acquainted? Come on. That’s just insult on top of injury.

Bucky’s head swivels to follow him once Sam tracks into his line of sight.

“Where’s Zemo?” is the first thing he says.

Sam avoids his gaze until he’s good and comfortable on the couch at his side. It’s closer than he meant to be, since the damn thing has a curve to it, but the chairs don’t look comfortable. Unless, he supposes, you’re a percher, like Sharon. Sam doesn’t perch.

To cover for the fact that he picked his seat without thorough reconnaissance and is, with his inhibitions a little lower than usual, both far too nervous and not nearly nervous enough, Sam spreads his knees to take up even more of the couch, draping his arms along the back. Finally, he glances at Bucky.

“Sharon’s doing her shift as babysitter,” Sam says.

“Hasn’t she done enough?”

“You wanna go back down there and spell her, be my guest.”

“Nah,” Bucky says, “I think I’m good.”

Bucky’s jacket is gone too, Sam notes, moving his own from where it landed to the chair opposite. Briefly, he lets himself be curious. Why does Sharon have a wardrobe of men’s clothes in enough sizes and styles to reasonably clad himself, Bucky, and Zemo for the evening? Are these things expensive? Are they valuable, like the Monet he saw on the way in? Maybe the clothes on his back belonged to some celebrity and are set to be sold off to the highest bidder. If that weren’t a selling point before, it could be now—everything itemized and tagged as having been worn by Sam Wilson, the Falcon, the Man Who Wouldn’t Be Captain America.

In the short silence, Sam feels himself beginning to frown, but he’s just the right side of buzzed to prevent those thoughts from dragging him down. He’s a cheerful drunk. Always has been. A hugger, a giggler, a piggyback ride-giver in his younger years.

“Do you think she’s doing alright?” Bucky asks, forever ready to be morose. “Sharon?” Sam wants to stick his finger in the indentation between Bucky’s eyebrows and wiggle it until the seriousness drops from his face. He wants to smooth his thumb over Bucky’s chin, wipe out the memory of Zemo’s touch when he offered Bucky to Selby like a thing instead of a human being. “I know she took your deal, a favour for a favour, but I’ve been trying to work out what my debt to her is. My notebook—”

“There’s no math for it, Buck,” Sam says. Though his tone is lazy, his words are certain. “Who owes what to who. We just have to make it right.” Mildly annoyed that he’s been drawn back into a heavy conversation, he sighs and slings his foot up to rest his ankle on his opposite knee. The movement bumps Bucky’s thigh momentarily. “Think I might owe Sharon a little less now that she made me wear a turtleneck to that party.”

Bucky snorts a laugh. Sam turns his head and gives him the finger, though he’s also smiling.

“I’m laughing at what you said,” Bucky claims, “not the shirt. You coulda picked something else.”

“It’s black and doesn’t have a pattern. After that Smiling Tiger getup, I felt like being inconspicuous, ok?”

“Ok. You don’t need my approval.”

“You’re damn right I don’t,” Sam agrees, still grinning.

“Suits you,” Bucky half-mumbles.

Sam huffs from his nose, all his laughter in that puff of air as he faces forward again, then tips his head back to check out Sharon’s high ceiling. With nothing but night through the tall windows and the room under-illuminated by the two lamps either left on by their host or switched on by Bucky, the ceiling’s dark grey instead of white. Shadowy. Unlike the menacing shadows that seemed to stretch after them on the streets of Low Town, sending an unpleasant tickle up the back of Sam’s neck, these are soft. It’s a surprisingly peaceful end to the day, considering what the past 24 hours have encompassed. Suddenly, Sam feels as though he’s been awake a long, long time. Doesn’t mean he’s ready to sleep yet.

“So,” he says, “downstairs. Why’d you leave? Most date-like thing we’ve done yet and I tear my eyes away from the trainwreck of Zemo’s dancing to find you gone.”

“The noise, the crowd, Zemo,” Bucky emphasizes, “like you said.”

“You brought him.”

“I know, I just…” Bucky slumps forward and hangs his head, hands clasped between his knees. He turns pained eyes on Sam and Sam moves his hand from the back of the couch to Bucky’s shoulder. From there to his upper back. From a grounding pressure to a gentle rub. Just a couple times, but he doesn’t pull away, perennially touchy when less than sober. “I don’t want him to control me.”

“He doesn’t,” Sam says firmly. “You were yourself at Selby’s.”

“His version of me. I don’t like the reminder. I don’t want to find out if I’d do it again, in that crowd of people, attack someone just because he told me to.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. I’m trusting you not to.”

“Is that smart?” Bucky asks, expression raw. Sam can feel the heat of his back through his shirt.

“It’s not totally smart. Can’t be, with you involved.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and smiles and Sam wants to cheer.

“I don’t know about that date,” Bucky says lightly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leans back into the couch once more. It was a t-shirt under that jacket of his and Sam’s gaze slides to his arms, trying to look without looking. Only because the Vibranium one isn’t on display a lot. That’s all.

“Oh, here we go.”

Sam’s amazed at how his complaint sounds in this room, in this light, on this couch. Like the ceiling, it’s soft.

“It was too loud.”

“The last thing you called a date was a fight on the top of a truck speeding down a highway. Wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“Well,” Bucky tries again, “there were too many people.”

“Again, extra people weren’t a problem last time. Half a dozen Flag-Smashers, as I recall.”

“That was fun and all—”

“Which part?” Sam asks, smiling. “The part where you got hurled into a windshield by the woman you’d assumed was a hostage? Yeah, that part was fun for me too.”

“Can it.”

Bucky accompanies the words with a look that Sam could pick out a mile away as fake-grumpy. It cracks him up and he lifts his hand from Bucky’s back to shove his arm as he laughs.

“You called tonight a date,” Bucky says suddenly.

“No, I said… I said…” Sam squints at nothing as he retrieves his words in his mind. “Date-like.”

“Zemo got in my head and I got in yours.”

Instead of saying this miserably, Bucky looks quietly smug at his joke. Sam needs to set him straight; of course he didn’t think tonight was a date. With a massive bounty on their heads at the other end of Madripoor? With Zemo the third wheel always only an arm’s length away? And the current circumstances are beside the point because, fundamentally, Sam doesn’t know whether or not Bucky’s been joking from the start. Intentionally wrong-footing him, messing with him, like they’ve been doing as long as they’ve known each other.

“You’ve definitely done something,” Sam volunteers.

It’s his fourth drink talking, or maybe the fucking pickled snake organ he forced himself to swallow earlier. His jaw clenches fleetingly at the memory. Sarah’s gonna laugh her ass off when he tells her. Should be enough to balance out whatever ire she’ll be sending his way for that dumb shit he said about laundering money. Although she’ll get that he only said it to avoid getting shot (he won’t tell her how narrow that success was), she still won’t be thrilled that he made himself out to be a criminal. It’s the furthest thing from the kind of people the Wilsons are. He could always point a finger at how Bucky behaved—dropping everyone who ran at him with icily efficient twists and kicks—but he knows how Sarah would look at him, what she’d be thinking. That he and Bucky aren’t held to the same standard, externally or internally. That he talks about Bucky too often, so often that if he let his sister in on this stupid running joke they have about their ops being dates, she’d take it all wrong, think this was something serious and inevitable.

Sam swallows and laces his fingers together in his lap so he won’t reach out for Bucky again.

“I know I should’ve let you in on the plan to spring Zemo from prison,” Bucky says. Oh, he thinks Sam’s words were a subtle criticism, not an admission. That’s… good.

“But?”

“No excuses,” Bucky promises, stretching his neck from side to side. “I shoulda told you. Once I explained it, you would’ve seen that I was right and agreed with me.”

Sam gives the side of Bucky’s head a hard stare until he catches the smirk hiking his lips up on one side.

“Wow,” Sam says dryly, “that was almost you taking responsibility.”

“I take responsibility all the time.”

“The notebook, right?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe Zemo put his fuckin’ hands on something so private, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I get that it’s private,” Sam assures him, “but you can tell me shit. If you want.”

Bucky’s folded arms loosen and he shoots Sam a sideways glance that scans all over his face, measuring, cataloguing, computing with that cyborg brain Sam teases him about. Sam blinks back. He means it, and he meant it before when he said he’s trusting Bucky.

“Feels a little one-sided,” Bucky says.

“That’s because you won’t come home with me to meet Sarah and the boys. You already got your invitation into my personal life, you just haven’t used it.”

“We’ve been a little busy, Sam.”

Sam sighs loudly and pushes his sleeves up his arms against the warmth of the room.

“You can make time. Once we’re not on Zemo’s schedule.”

“He was supposed to be on ours,” Bucky mutters. “I don’t know how that happened.”

“It happened because you’re an idiot who didn’t tell me the plan.”

“It’s my fault we keep getting shot at.”

Sam ignores that, the happy looseness surging up inside him battling the gravity of Bucky’s self-pity.

“It’s your fault if you didn’t like the date,” he counters. “You got Zemo out of Germany, Zemo brought us to Madripoor. Low Town, Selby, Sharon—all that happened as a consequence. You didn’t like tonight’s date? That’s on you.”

“Date-like,” Bucky corrects with a sly smile. “The noise and the fighting last time were fine—”

“Were they?!”

“—I just thought the next date should be different.”

Sam laughs softly because this isn’t the first time Bucky’s made this sound like more than a joke, but it is the first time he’s done this at night. And without Sam’s sister and nephews in the next room, or the potential for anybody to drive past them on a country road that runs alongside untidy fields, but when they’re truly alone.

“How so?” Sam asks, heart pumping like the bass in the basement, where the party’s carrying on without the two of them.

Bucky loosens his arms even more, until his forearms rest on his thighs, until—when he rocks to the side, repositioning to face Sam—he can rest one on the back of the couch where Sam’s used to be. His hand hangs down and his fingers skim Sam’s shoulder.

“More private,” Bucky confesses.

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted,” Sam says with an easy laugh because Bucky’s face is still a little too stern, but that could be self-consciousness. “Tell me how to get more than four stars, man.”

“And you’ll do it?”

“Depends. Try me,” he blurts.

He watches Bucky’s face pinch in then relax, going especially slack at the mouth, which gets closer when Bucky angles into his space. Sam’s fingers release and his back straightens as he shifts to square his body to Bucky’s. They’ve done something like this before, locked into stubborn, confrontational posture when Bucky makes Sam’s life difficult by refusing to go along with what he says, but not this. Not this exactly.

Sam doesn’t stiffen or jerk away, so Bucky keeps coming.

“Are you…?” Bucky asks, eyelashes fluttering as his lids raise and lower, looking from Sam’s eyes to his lips. “Is this…?”

Always talking.

Tilting his head and closing his eyes, Sam stamps his mouth to Bucky’s. He goes to break away after a few stunned seconds, but then Bucky’s hand lands on the back of his neck—warm; not the metal one—to hold them together. Sam meets Bucky’s seeking tongue with his own and feels scruff against his face as their mouths test and react to each other. Reflexively, Sam grips the front of Bucky’s tight, black t-shirt. The kiss is quick and feverish and, when Bucky’s fingers untense on his neck, Sam rests his face against Bucky’s.

He wouldn’t say he’s scared to move, but he’s wary. He can’t tell if they’ve fucked up their whole dynamic or taken it, at last, to a level it was always going to reach. Raising a hand to pat the side of his head and check that his goggles are in place, Sam stops, remembering he won’t feel the strap because he’s not in the air. It’s been a while since he felt lightheaded on the ground.

He clears his throat and draws back. Bucky starts to remove his hand from Sam’s neck, but Sam reaches up to keep it there. He juts his chin out challengingly as he holds Bucky’s eyes, thinking, for a second, of their joint session with Dr. Raynor.

“What’s the verdict?” Sam demands.

Bucky stares back solemnly.

“Four and a half.”

“I’m leaving you here in Madripoor,” Sam declares, pointing a finger down at Bucky’s abruptly and broadly grinning face as he pushes up from the couch.

He strides over to Sharon’s crystal decanters, laughing to himself and looking for water. There isn’t any, but she does have an insulated canister of dissolving ice cubes. Sam scoops a few into a tumbler and turns back to look silently at Bucky. He cups the base of the glass in his hot palm. Slowly, the ice starts to melt.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes #sambucky

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bisexual-horror-fan · 4 years ago

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Two Boys Are Better Than One Chapter 28. "The Doubt." Poly!Ghostface X AFAB Reader.

Okay! So fucking here we are again! It's been two months since the last update, I put in a fuck ton of work on this chapter and am pretty happy with how it came out! The smut in particular hits and I hope the ending of this chapter has the desired affect. Any feedback anyone has on this would be so welcome and this means that there are only two chapters left before this is done! Also with this update my ask box is offically closed again!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 10.K. Poly!Ghostface X AFAB Reader. Warnings. Plot. Emotions. Mentions Of Death. Gore And General Violence. Man Handeling. Some Softness. Exhibitionism. Cockwarming. Fingering. Oral Sex. Blow Jobs. Threesome. Make Shift Gag. Feelings.

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The Doubt.

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“Beginnings and endings are so similar aren't they? This year has been a tumultuous one, and as this chapter of our lives end and the next one begins I feel like I would be remiss to not mention those that we have lost this year-”

There should be a word for the specific feeling to describe that singular kind of awful that constitutes valedictorian speeches.

You were actually making an attempt to listen to the guy speaking up in front of the crowd and were failing. You were invested, sure, I mean hell it was graduation but your mind was on many other things. Like mainly the fact you were finally fucking done with this shit, the summer ahead, your future in general really, I mean you already did all the heavy lifting and hard work to get to this point plus who ACTUALLY likes the graduation part of graduating?

It’s a painfully long and boring process. Thankfully it was almost over. You wanted to get on with the rest of your day already, much more pleasant things ahead.

Even after the initial ceremony was over there was still a little more bullshit to get through before the proper festivities could begin, pictures and your parents fussing a little bit over you. Seems like it took an eternity to get here, seating was so sadly and unfortunately assigned and alphabetical so you weren’t permitted to sit with your boys, truly tragic. You were standing off to the side, talking with a friend about some plans they had for summer when all of a sudden you were being hoisted up, two strong hands on your waist and you let out a surprised yelp and then as soon as he spoke you realized that yep, it was Stu.

“Here’s little miss honor roll-”

And you were thrown over his shoulder before he turned to take you away, now facing said friend he had plucked you from, you saw Billy right there, saying matter-of-factly: “We're taking this.” What a couple of dorks.

You laughed a little and waved to your friend before calling out. “I’ll talk to you later!” they had their own smile as they called bye back with a wave as you were being carried off by Stu.

Billy was walking right behind Stu, following along and looking up at you, “Well how are you?”

The very casual nature and the look on his face with how he said it made you laugh again. The way he addressed you, talking to you slung over Stu’s shoulder as if it were the most normal thing in the world but for the three of you it was.

You reached out one hand and leaned down, confident in Stu’s ability to hold onto you as you moved the space needed to give Billy a quick kiss before saying, “I’m good. You two miss me?”

“Natch.” Stu replied and Billy gave a shrug and nod in agreement, a smile on his face.

“Yeah what he said.” And then you were being placed back down and before you had a moment to even gather yourself Stu was giving you a kiss, a small greeting of his own, you leaned up into it with a soft hum before pulling away.

“You know I didn’t technically make the honor roll, right?” referencing what he said earlier when he scooped you up and he scoffed.

“Might as well have when compared to our grades.”

You tsked at that and reached out, both hands on Stu’s face and saying in a very serious tone, “You still graduated and that’s enough.”

Billy didn’t laugh but let out more of an amused exhale as he leant up against the car right next to you. “Barely but sure.” And Stu nudged him with his shoulder.

“Rude.”

The last stretch of the school year was tough on all of you. Final exams were a bit of a bitch and you in particular wanted to finish strong and encouraged the boys to as well. Study sessions all together were never any of your strong suits. I mean it always started off fine, sitting around a table, snacks and drinks and books splayed out, every single intention of putting in a lot of work and coming away from it feeling much more confident in your abilities to tackle the subject material.

It always ended the same, too. Doesn’t matter who started it really but it always ended up with books forgotten and someone, you typically, splayed out in a similar fashion to how those same books were. More than one time had you one your back, out of breath and staring up at the ceiling wondering “How the fuck did this happen again?”

Some other study sessions on your own helped you pull up your own grades but you don’t think the boys invested that same effort on their end unfortunately but hey again you all passed and now you have all graduated.

“So are we getting outta here now?” Stu asked, he looked ready to get you into the car and take you away and you were positive Billy was wanting the same thing but you had to decline. “Family is insisting on dinner together but I will be free after that, I am still coming tonight, don’t worry!”

Stu let out a sigh, acting extremely put out as he stood up right again and your hands could no longer reach his face, “Fiiiiine.” Billy’s arm slipped around your shoulders and he tugged you to him as he said “Awe you’re breaking our hearts. Been apart from you all day already-” You smiled and leaned your head against Billy’s chest as you said, “We have all summer and I know you two are gonna be glued to me at college, you’ll live a few hours till the party.”

“And if we don’t live?” Billy asked and you pulled back to look up at him, small smile as you said teasingly, “Then I will mourn you for the rest of my days.” And there was Stu again as he asked, “Promise?” and you gave them both a kiss on the cheek before pulling yourself away, walking backwards with a grin as you called out, “Promise!”

“Promises, promises." Billy mused to Stu with a smile as they watched you walk off.

Dinner was good, you got some nice graduation presents from your parents and some money too, you made a note of putting it aside and maybe getting a little gift for your boys because fuck it you were really proud of them. Who says you can’t get them a graduation gift too? Knowing them, knowing Stu in particular, you would be surprised if he didn’t get you something.

Speaking of those boys of yours, you had to be getting ready to head out. Of course there had to be ample celebration for such a momentous occasion and that meant a party at Stu’s, naturally. You needed to get ready and get a bag together, spending the night was a give in. You didn’t rush getting ready but you didn’t linger long either, excited to get out of the house and to spend time with them, your parents were convinced you were spending the night with some girlfriends and you were happy with that. Before you knew it you were out the door, bag slung over your shoulder and off you headed on your bike, making the all too familiar journey to Stu’s that you had made countless times.

It was wild to think how much your life had changed in a little less than a year and fuck if you weren’t happier for it. To think this time last year you were gearing up to move here and hating the very thought of spending your last year of highschool away from your hometown and all your childhood friends was awful but it ended up being the best thing to ever happen to you.

You got there earlier than most to help out, as per usual, bike left outside and in you headed, calling out and before you could even finish saying Billy’s name there were arms hugging you around your middle, “Bout time you showed up.” You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face.

Both boys sure loved touching you, being away most of the day meant you were counting on them making up for it, Billy was getting that in early and hell you loved it too so you did the only reasonable thing, leaning into him. “Awe I know, I’m terrible. Leaving you alone so much today.”

You dropped your bag beside the couch and turned around in his grip and then you had your hands clasped behind his neck and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, he returned your affection easily. You got a little caught up in it and I mean who could blame you? Soon you found yourself pressed against the backrest of the couch, sat up on it, your knees on either side of his hips as you pulled a little closer, deepening the kiss with a small hum. After a few short minutes you were wanting something a bit more than just this

You had some plans of maybe sneaking in something extra before the party gets going but what happens next ends up putting a stop to that. You hadn’t heard him coming. It happened quickly, two hands on your shoulders and pulling you back, no real time to react and then there you were pulled into Stu’s lap, legs still over the back of the couch and you were looking up at him. Goofy grin on his face and you spoke first, “Both of you are big fans of manhandling me today.” Stu rolled his eyes and said, “Oh don’t act like you don’t love it.”

You never said that and never would because fucking hell, you did love it.

After pouring some affection on Stu, who was pouting just a bit because Billy got hello kisses but not him right away and that is simply unacceptable, you helped get whatever else that was needed ready.

It was a good time.

A really fucking good time as per usual. I mean whenever you all did this it was but there was something all the sweeter and more satisfying about this time, knowing you had all summer ahead.

Your prediction had been right, the boys had been hanging off of you so far, one with an arm draped over your shoulders while the other might have a hand on your thigh. Or of course being before passed between them but after a while you now found yourself pulled out of their embrace and talking with your good friend, Randy. You had caught him on the stairs and took the opportunity to get caught up, both leaning against the railing and chatting easily with your respective drinks in your hands.

“So you and Sid are going to the same college? That’s fucking great man!” The smile on his face was so telling for how excited he was for this and it was awesome to see. “Tell me about it! The place has some great looking film classes and she is looking into the drama program-”

You listened to him go on enthusiastically. It was all so nice to hear, you and the boys were going to a different school but you knew you would make a big effort to stay in touch with Randy and would see him back in Woosdboro on holidays and it was all going to be great. You then thought about asking it so you did, “How was it today for Sid by the way?”

Randy took a hearty sip before saying with a gesture of his red solar cup “Surprisingly better than either of us were expecting. She’s actually coming tonight.”

And you brightened at that, “Really? You gonna finally properly introduce us?” you asked with a nudge and Randy fired back, “Oh don’t fuckin’ be like that, I have introduced you!”

He had technically but it was a while back while they were both on their way somewhere and while you had been around her you hadn’t really had the chance to get to know her, weirdly always seeming to miss each other but as you had told Randy you wanted to fix that this summer, her coming to the party would be a perfect opportunity. “I know you have. Do it again. But better this time.” You teased and he sighed, “You are lucky I like you so much.”

“Nothing to do with luck Randy. I am just that fucking good.”

“And so modest too.” And the deadpan tone with which he said it made you almost snort into your cup and soon after that you were being pulled off by a different friend who wanted to get caught up and with a wave you made Randy promise to come find you when Sid showed up later and he held both hands up with a nod as he affirmed, “I promise.”

An hour later he was true to his word you were getting ‘properly’ introduced again to Sidney.

It was funny because you both were always kind of around each other but this was the longest conversation you had so far. You were trying to keep it light and so far it was going fairly well. The two of you were out on the back deck, leaning against the railing and talking just you and her, Randy had gone to grab more drinks and you decided now was as good as time as any to ask, “So how’s it going with Randy, hmmm?”

“Ah are we having this conversation finally?”

You turned to look at her, leaning on one arm as you asked, “And what conversation is that?” You were both still smiling, it was light and fun, she continued, “The ‘what are your intentions with my friend’ conversation.”

See this is one of the things you really liked about Sidney. She was pretty straightforward, no bullshit and you appreciated it. “How did you ever manage to see through my carefully concocted plan?” She was looking over to you now and you pressed forward, “But you are right I am just a little bit curious.”

She didn’t blame you. The friendship you and Randy developed was important and you held it in high regard, he was the first friend you made when you moved here after all “I think it is really sweet honestly. You care a lot about him and just want to make sure he is fine but trust me I would never do anything to hurt him. Things are great between us.”

You basically already knew this, hearing it from her was nice all the same. It wasn’t lost on you how funny it was that you were like this. Sidney had been going to school with Randy for basically forever and knew him for years and here you were acting protective over him, she understood it and respected it.

“But what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me?”

She was fully facing you now as she asked, “You and Billy and Stu. How does that work exactly?”

You figured this would come up. Who could blame her for being curious, polyamory wasn’t super common and you were a very open and friendly, a safe bet to get some questions answered, it felt like more than that though, like she was really invested and cared about YOUR particular set up more than finding out poly stuff in general.

“God this is probably going to sound pretentious as fuck but it just kind of works? Like I know it isn’t for everyone and not just anyone can do it but the three of us just fit.”

I mean how would you even begin to fully try to describe what the three of you have? A tall task and one that you probably wouldn’t be able to because there were certain things that you simply could not deluge obviously. Their little ‘hobby’ definitely affected it, nothing like a dark and terrible secret to bond people together!

“Hey why question it if you don’t have to? If it works for you then fair enough.” She was certainly more accepting than some people would be about your situation, thankfully most people who you’d been out to had been pretty cool about it.

You finally decided now is the best time to mention, “So I really care about Randy and you are obviously very important to him and I would love to spend some more time together this summer and get to know you better.” She smiled at that and with a nod agreed, “That sounds great honestly, I’d love that.”

“Love what?”

And Randy was back, attempting to juggle the three drinks in his hands and you took a step forward to take yours and help him out, “Love you obviously Randy.” you told him and he said, “Oh well naturally. I assumed.”

“Course, making an ass out of you and me is your specialty.” A sigh from Randy and he said, “Got any more tired jokes for me?” “None that are as tired as yours I am afraid.” And you heard Sidney almost choke on her drink behind you, “I dunno if I am gonna like you two hanging out more, she’s supposed to be on MY side.”

You threw an arm around Sidney and smiled wide, “Listen, if your girlfriend ends up falling in love with me it isn’t my fault Randy!” You had your eyes locked on Randy but you could practically feel Sidney's own smile as her arm snaked around your waist as she played along with the bit.

The rest of the party was great. Everyone had such big plans of what they wanted to do, some people this was your last chance to see because they were flitting off elsewhere already, traveling or getting a jumpstart on jobs or things prepping for school or whatever.

The night was winding down. A lot of people have left, some people were still lingering, it wasn’t unusual for some people to crash and stay over downstairs. Some people were already passing out or in general just calming down. You and the boys certainly were.

It was dark, lights low and you were in the living room on the couch with Billy, in his lap, his arms around you, chin resting on your shoulder, just enjoying being close together.

Sometimes, there are these small moments that happen during times like this. Where a tiny and simple action can have a lot larger of an impact than intended by the initiator of said action. In this case it was Billy brushing some of your hair to the side and snuggling a little closer into you, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck and it caused a surprising pulse of heat in you and a small hitch in your breath that didn’t go unnoticed by him. You shifted in his lap and he pulled you closer, you weren't getting away so easily and he pressed another a little lower, then another and one more and you swallowed hard, thighs pressing a little closer together.

His hand was on your hip and he squeezed once before that hand dragged up your side and you glanced around and he whispered in your ear, "No one's lookin'."

Sure seemed that way. So why not indulge a little?

A little became a lot far too quickly. But how much is a lot exactly?

How about after some more kisses and touching, slow drags of his fingers over your body in the right spots and his legs between yours, his knees spreading your thighs, making your skirt ride up. The backs of his knuckles drag over your inner thigh and close to the edge of the thin and damp panties you had on and when that first pass of his fingers slipped over you he whispered something else in your ear, “Well someone is watching.”

And you were about to question until you realized that Stu was sitting across from the couch now, the only one who could currently see what Billy was doing to you, apparently. Soon as you locked eyes with him, Billy’s fingers pressed harder and his touching got far more bold. So even if no one could see at the moment you still had to restrain yourself. Still had to be good, there were other people in the room so you had to endure, your boys seemed to be big fans of that, seemingly loved to push your boundaries.

Small and precise circles rubbed through your panties on your clit and you allowed yourself to rest a bit closer against him, a sigh crossing your lips as you shifted slightly and Stu was taking in the view of every little movement. You couldn't look away, the eye contact made it even better, even hotter for you.

"Think he likes the view?", Billy whispered it in your ear and you bit your bottom lip with a nod, a quiet reply of, "I think so."

It was good but not good enough. The barrier of your panties in the way was becoming bothersome, and it's like he could tell but still he continued teasing, up and down and slow torturous circles drawn with even pressure that makes you want to moan so badly. You squirmed a little bit and that prompted him to say, "You gettin' restless?" A nod and Billy caught Stu's gaze now, you were sure his look suggested, "Thoughts?"

And Stu obviously had an idea, he gestured and Billy immediately caught on to what he wanted. He stopped touching you and his hands met your outer thighs and dragging up until they were under your skirt and his fingers hooked in your panties and he started to tug them off, your hands covered his and he whispered, "No?" A slight shake of your head and he followed it up with "Don't want to cum tonight, hmm?"

You wanted to whine and your hands lifted slightly and you said quietly, "I do." And you moved your hands away and let him take your panties off and toss them to Stu who caught them with a wide grin. His legs between yours, knees spreading your thighs apart and you felt so exposed and open, he was almost pining them open, the air felt cool on your exposed and wet sex. God he felt so hard beneath you and you wanted to grind down onto him already. You doubted you could close your legs if you wanted to and fuck was that hot. His hand fell between your legs again as he started to touch you again, fingers dipping down, collecting some of your ample wetness and spreading it over you, using it to rub your clit with the same pressure as before.

Staying quiet would be so much harder now. His mouth was back on your neck as he touched and the fact that you could be caught so easily was adding to it. The fact Stu was watching made it better too, he looked very comfortable, one hand on his face, that fucking smile, he was really enjoying this. His gaze broke from yours occasionally to look over the room and make sure no one might catch an eye full of you. Fuck it felt better than it had any right to, and after a few more short minutes it took all your will to not be shaking like a leaf, you were gripping the fabric of the couch as you soaked in the feeling.

Looks like they both got another idea, soon you were being shifted and you were about to question why until you realized that Billy was opening his pants with one hand and your eyes went wide upon that realization and you whispered rushed, “Here?” and Stu who was still watching was grinning wider with a confident nod and soon you felt Billy pressed against you, hot and hard and so fucking close. Your heart was racing from the very idea of it, was he really about to sink inside you out in the open of this living room. You could hear three friends talking on the stairs behind the couch and some people were still around in the kitchen and Jesus if someone decided to come sit on the couch and or just come bug one of you three then you’d be caught.

But you still wanted it.

He didn’t ask, you were practically gagging for it, you were actually shirting your hips to rub yourself against him a little and he let out an amused huff against the side of your throat before his hands were helping to lift you up a little and angle you just so and then he was slowly sliding inside of you. Fucking hell, your head fell back against his shoulder and one of your hands came up, tight fist pressed to your mouth as you held your lips closed, this was going to be a challenge, least it would be a fun one.

You were fully lowered down, Lord, you felt so full, you were gonna have to move so slowly to not get caught but how would you manage that? Once it got going, trying to hold back was going to be difficult. You were about to move up, desperate for some relief however Billy’s arms wrapped you and you were held there.

You realized quickly what this was supposed to be, cockwarming. A lot easier not to get caught with that. Being made to sit there and stuffed full of him was fucking terribly arousing.

"You alright sweetheart?" That fucking tone he took with you made you clench around him, his fingers skimming over your exposed thighs and you suppressed another shiver. "M' fine."

"You sure?" You could feel the smug energy radiating off of him. "What do you think, Stu? She seems alright to you?"

"Oh I don't know, she's being awfully quiet, wouldn't you say?" Stu fired back, hands behind his head.

Assholes. Both of them. They were your assholes at the very least. A deep breath, pulling your hand away from your face, composing yourself before speaking. "And what should I be saying exactly?" Your retort was very even for someone who was in your current position. You could always impress yourself and them with how much you could handle. You were quite a pro at dealing with their little games by now.

"Anything. Everything. Whatever."

However with you taking it so well the steaks needed to be upped. Billy's hand drifted to where you were joined and slipped up to your clit and started to rub again slowly and that made you tense up instantly.

This game continued. They started talking casually as Billy continued touching you, no longer acknowledging what they were doing to you and that made it worse somehow. You clenched and ached and dripped, wanting to squirm and move, fuck yourself on him until you were a drooling incoherent mess but the setting didn't allow for that. You were a whore when alone with them but acting that way in earshot of polite company simply wouldn't do.

He was too damn good.

He edged you once, twice, three times in less than ten minutes all while not addressing you. Rocking inside of you on occasion as he rubbed, you were having the hardest time. You couldn't take it, trembling, breathing much harder, you had your hands behind you, fingers looped in the belt loops of his pants, tugging as you whispered hush, "Please?"

Your eyes were half lidded but still fixed on Stu, he perked up as he asked, "Did you hear something Billy?"

The pressure increased and your thighs tensed with a small choked whine, he pulled out further and fucked up into you hard, once and only once before replying, "Don't know. It was so quiet, I can't tell."

"Please?"

You spoke just a bit louder and Stu laughed just a little before asking, "Sorry y/n, didn't catch that." You huffed and pouted, nearly whimpering and Billy tsk'd "Awe, too mean?"

A nod from you and you whispered to him, "Close. Please?"

"Close?" Stu was leaning forward in his seat, forearms resting on his knees, slight cock of his head as he repeated it and you nodded again, frantic as Billy wasn't letting up, right fucking there.

"Close to what?"

You let out a groan that was a little too loud and nearly suppressed a roll of your eyes, slumping a bit against Billy who wrapped his free arm tighter around you, a small squeeze as he laughed into your neck. "Alright, sorry, sorry, you've definitely earned it."

The idea of that still got to you after all the time. When they play games like this, the idea that your pleasure and satisfaction was something to be earned was surprisingly still so hot and fun after all this time and it wasn’t an all the time thing was great too.

His arm loosened and his hand slid up, over your chest and neck, hand covering your mouth now and you pushed into his other hand as he actually fuckes up into you, slowly, just fucking right, hitting that sweet spot as his fingers never let up. You were thankful he covered your mouth because you were able to let out a few sounds, a couple of muffled expressions of pleasure as you finally fucking came. You were squirming in his lap and practically whimpering into his palm as your orgasm swept over you, breathing hard as fuck through your nose, you managed to be so good, so quiet which was a frankly incredible feat considering how amazing it felt. The location, the embarrassment of just how into it you were, how much you adored it, Stu watching and taking in every single detail. You could tell his eyes were locked on Billy's thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked cunt, you were absolutely dripping down his shaft as you pulsed around him.

When you stopped squirming he removed his hand and placed a kiss on your temple as he whispered "Great job babe."

You let out a breathless laugh as you said, "Thanks." You were about to wonder how you were going to get Billy off without alerting anyone else but Stu stood up and stretched his arms high above his head as he said “Well! I think I am gonna call it. Rest of you can stay, crash wherever-”

Billy used this moment of Stu stealing the attention to slide himself out of you when you weren’t expecting it, you managed to not make a sound and play it off just fine. Your fingers untangled from where they were still in his belt loops and you started to climb off his lap as you smoothed your skirt out and he started to put himself back in his pants.

“-and if you end up fucking anywhere just make sure you clean up any mess you make.”

Stu had his hands in his pockets and he glanced at you when he said those last three words and Billy nudged you and you were sure that you were going to be cleaning up your own mess you left on Billy. There were laughs from the people lingering around from what he said and you couldn’t help joining in just a little. Now with you and Billy straightened up it was time to head upstairs. You let Billy go up ahead and you took Stu’s hand, pausing at the bottom of the stairs,

“I’ve got a terrible idea.”,

“Well I’m all ears.”, you leaned up and gestured for him to lean down and he did with a cock of his brow, “Wanna team up on Billy?”

That smile that broke out on his face told you just how down he was. The rest of the night was too fun. You did end up cleaning up that aforementioned mess but it took a while to get to that point. You knew that Billy was worked up but when you were all up in Stu’s room instead he got to you first, kissing you and pawing at you and when Billy tried to get a little too in the middle Stu playfully pushed him away, “C’mon man you just had a turn, I am dying from watchin’ you two.”

So then it was Billy’s turn to watch while you and Stu put on quite the little show, and fuck it was so good, normally the boys teamed up on you but when you teamed up with one of them to get to the other it was a little too fun. The view was pretty great, a bit too hot, he couldn’t hold back and ended up taking care of his own clothes, hand wrapped around himself as he watched. It was after you were both stripped and he was inside of you that you finally decided to give Billy some attention again, knocking his hand out of the way and taking over.

You got him back, took your time, jerking him off with a well lubed hand, mouth on the head of his cock as Stu fucked up into you from below. Doing this had that usual effect of all feeding into each other but you still managed to keep the needed composure to do this just right. You edged him just as well as he did to you downstairs, thing is he couldn’t handle it as well as you could, he hadn’t had as much experience and it showed in how his breathing caught and how he tried to get more out of you, how desperate he was to drag every bit of sensation out of this. He was fucking up into your fist and whenever he got too close and you slowed down he was practically whining. Around the fourth edge he let out such a frustrated groan and you still had your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft as you addressed Stu, “He’s getting a little loud don’t you think?”

“I think you might be right. There are still other guests downstairs, don’t wanna disturb them.” God this was too fun, being in on the game and being a part of that teasing kind of banter instead of being on the receiving end of it.

You continued, “Right, it’s for his own good, he is being so rude right now.” you started moving your hand again, grip was harder and when Billy’s mouth opened again to let out another moan you leaned forward, your soaked panties in your opposite hand and you forced them against his tongue. This action made him moan again but it was more muffled now, you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as you said, “Much better.”

The rest of the night was great as expected, you of course eventually got Billy off and were sure you’d pay for teasing him so much but for tonight you were all too exhausted, you ended this night like so many others, a big spent cuddle puddle on Stu’s bed and passed out relatively quickly.

The next day was about as regular as any other one after one of these get-togethers. A bit of a sleep in and then lazily cleaning and recuperating, in no rush with nowhere to be, all kind of hanging off of each other and relaxing. The mess wasn’t that bad and thankfully some of those stragglers who crashed helped out too which led to it being around early afternoon with everyone else gone and just the three of you.

While the boys made lunch you ended up getting a shower and after said shower you ended up getting a call that caused you to bound downstairs still damp and wrapped up in that ridiculous red robe of Stu’s that was far too big for you. Calling out to them as you thumped down the stairs, “Boys!” Your hand on the end of the banister as you practically jumped from the bottom step, wet feet almost slipping on the hardwood as you rushed towards the kitchen.

Soon as you were in reach you had your arms thrown around Billy, the sudden contact of you crashing into him had him wrapping one arm around your waist and saying, “Woah! Someone is awfully excited, what’s up?”

You couldn’t hold back how excited you were as you told them, “That was the call I have been waiting for! I got a summer job!”

And you had both his arms around you, hugging you close as he said, “Hey! Told you that you’d get it!”

You had been applying like crazy over the past few weeks as school was wrapping up and were so happy at the timing of this, getting to make a bit of money for yourself and get some job experience, it was going to be great. Billy was all for it, very excited but Stu was a little less so. He was walking plates in hand to the table as he said, “Course she got it, she’s the best but still I dunno why you were so dead set on getting a job y/n.”

You let out a small sigh as you slipped out of his arms and walked over to Stu, holding your arms out, “Can’t even be a little happy for me, huh?” He hugged you and said, “Course I am happy for you! But I mean it, don’t know why you want a job because-”

“-Because you got more than enough for us, I know, I know but I want my own money and the experience will be good for me.” And Billy chimed in as he walked over to you both, “You still haven’t told us where you will be working.”

Shit that is right you haven’t, you pulled back a bit with a big smile as you said, “The ice cream parlor.” “Oh fuck off, no way. Wait, the one on First street?”

A confident nod and you both looked to Stu who you could both tell was breaking just a little bit, “The one where they-” “Make all their own stuff on site? Mmmhmmm.” Stu had a sweet tooth and you both knew that and while you were both sure he still wouldn’t be wild about the idea you also both knew this would definitely help convince him some.

“I still don’t like the fact you won’t be around as much this summer.” He was still trying to be a little firm but was failing, “Oh come on. It won’t be that much and you can come bug me at work all the time.”

He looked like he was considering it and thinking it over and Billy threw an arm around your shoulders as he asked, “And you’d hook us up with ice cream whenever we wanted right?” You looked up to him with a big smile as you said, “Oh you two are my boys, of course I would! What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“Okay, okay, fine! I’m happy for you and support you.”

“Support me or the idea of free ice cream?” You asked and Billy laughed and Stu rolled his eyes, still smiling as he said, “Can’t it be both?”

Funny as always Stu and soon you were all having lunch around the table. Billy was fully on your side and said he thought this would be good for all of you, a little space wasn’t a bad thing, absence makes the heart grow fonder and all of that. Stu jokingly tried to protest a little more, and you knew that is all it was, a joke, he was fine with this but Billy gave him this look that said he should drop it and it put a stop to it. “We have some things we wanted to do just us this summer anyway right Stu?”

Stu wasn’t looking back at Billy as he nodded once, “Yeah you’re right man.” but the way he said it sounded a little less carefree than usual. Odd. Normally that kind of interaction would be because of something serious but this was just some dumb joke, you wanted to follow up but the topic of conversation shifted and the day pressed on and you frankly forgot about it.

It was when you were going back home later that they asked when you started your new job and you told them it would be in a few days and they, Stu in particular, reiterated they are happy and proud. You reassured them it was going to be a good summer and they both said they should celebrate you getting your first job and you of course thought that was a fantastic idea.

So far summer was shaping up nicely. One of the best things about this new job of yours was the location. It was right downtown and literally next door to the video store where Randy worked, when you told him he was understandably very stoked, more time spent together was always a good thing, you could sometimes ride your bikes to work or home together, making plans would be stupid easy too.

That little celebration they had in mind was perfect honestly. You did it the last day before you were totally free before starting work. The three of you ended up driving out to that same river you visited almost a year ago, the drive was similar, singing along to the radio and joking around. It was so fucking nice. So familiar and fun, you brought food and swam and lazed in the sun spread out on a blanket and talked. They had you the same way spread out between them and it was even better than that first time, the experience and how close you’d all become, how well you had gotten to know one and other and learnt each other's bodies and what you liked, it was amazing.

You were laying back on that blanket with them after it was over, sweat hadn’t even dried as you looked up at the stars and truly felt at peace and like everything couldn’t be better.

Work was fine the first two weeks. You were picking it up really quickly, took to the work surprisingly well and felt good about it. It was your third shift when they came in for the first time. The bell above the door rang and you were bent over getting something and popped up already greeting whoever it was just as you were shown to, “Hello and welcome to-”

And it was those two boys of yours. “Well hello there to you too.” Billy greeted you in kind and Stu followed up with, “Cute uniform.” You looked over the uniform provided to you, it wasn’t the worst but certainly wasn’t flattering and you scoffed, “Yeah really cute, wasn’t expecting either of you to come by.”

Billy leaned forward on the counter and asked in that classic playful tone, “What? We aren’t allowed to come by and visit you? We missed you.”

“Awe how sweet.” And then Stu was following it up with, “Speaking of sweet, I think we’d like some, so hurry up ice cream wench.”

That was so ridiculous you laughed and repeated it, “Ice cream wench?! Fuck it, sure, what do you want?”

The rest of that day was pretty great and your co-workers also agreed that the term ice cream wench was too good to not become a regular thing. It wasn’t uncommon for you to come to work to be greeted with someone calling out “Hey it's the ice cream wench!”

Some days the boys would drop you off or pick you up when you were biking with Randy, he and you had some great times where those evening bike rides would extend into hanging out, not to mention sometimes you’d both try to get break at the same time and hang in the back alley behind your work places.

You’d brought him out a cone and he brought you a small bag of chips, both sitting in these chairs someone had brought out ages ago for people to have breaks in. “So what are you up to tonight? Seeing your boys?”

A shake of your head as you said, “Hmm I wanted to but they said they got something to do tonight so no dice. You?”

“Sid and I were going to try that new place that just opened up for dinner, want to come?”

Well how could you say no to that.

You were really happy that you went. The food was good and getting to spend time with the two of them together was so great. You and Sid had a great lunch the other day just the two of you and realized just how much the two of you had in common, you were confident she and you could become good friends and tonight the way you were all laughing and talking over appetizers really helped seal that for you. The thought of wondering if a double date would be possible entered your head as well as the thought of wondering if you still called it a double date when one of the couples was more of a throuple. Did the term double date come from the fact it was two couples, therefore doubling the number of people or because it was the merging of two dates? You were probably thinking too hard about it to be honest.

You and Randy were having a spirited discussion as per usual and Sidney got to have a front row seat to it. “You’re wrong! You were wrong the first time you said it and you are wrong now!”

“So this isn’t the first time you’ve argued about this.” She asked before picking up another chip and crunching down on it.

“Argue is a strong word, I’d call it more of a debate.” Randy said with a smile before turning back to you and saying, “And what makes me so wrong about it?”

“You mean besides everything?”

A sigh as he let go of Sidney’s hand and ran it over his face and said, “Listen if you look at that director's other work and compare it to this his intention is crystal clear-” And it was a fantastic time.

If only you knew what it was that your boys were up to tonight.

See they were still doing that little ‘hobby’ of theirs, but hadn’t indulged in a while, tonight was a return to form for them. While you were laughing and talking, sharing good food, those two boys of yours were reviving that old routine and after a lengthy phone call they broke into a house and it ended the same way it had so many times previously, heaving and blood soaked and fulfilled in this hard to define way that you didn’t understand.

You didn’t like that this wasn’t the first time they had neglected to fill you in that they were engaging in this behavior again. You found out from the news. You came downstairs to grab some breakfast before your shift and you had the place to yourself and turned on the tv for background noise and didn’t even think about the channel, you were cutting fruit and caught a few words-

“Break-in.”

“Blood.”

“Massacre.”

You gripped the knife in your hand tighter. Looking at the tv and watching for a few moments. It had to be them. No doubt. Sounds exactly like them and their usual set up, they were busy last night and this had to be what they were doing.

You looked at the knife you were holding and swallowed hard. Holding it up a bit, watching as rivulets of sticky red strawberry juice ran down the blade and the handle and squeezed between the spaces of your fingers and you thought about what they did.

Turning the blade in your hand and passing it to the other, feeling how sticky it was and changing how you were holding it, similar to how they might and you mimed a stabbing motion and it made you feel even more uncomfortable. You put the knife in the sink and washed your hands, watching the red wash off your hands and down the drain.

It had been a long while since you thought seriously about what they did.

It made you sick if you thought about it for too long. So that is exactly why you didn’t think about it. So it wasn’t like you thought they were done with it or had given it all up out of nowhere but it did make you think and wonder when they were going to give it up.

You ate breakfast with the tv off. You biked to work and tried to keep your mind off of it. You’d done it before and could do it again and you did. Denial is a hell of a drug.

So you saw them later that night and didn’t bring it up. They didn’t either. You had a great time but at the same time they seemed just a little distracted.

You thought it would be fine just like it had been but something was up, something was different. It was harder to push the thought of it down. Might have had something to do with the fact that the cops had made a very public statement that they believed what has been going on for around a year was without a doubt the same person and while there hadn’t been a murder in around two months the fact this was STILL happening was unacceptable. They were going to get a lot more serious, were insisting on a curfew and you couldn’t help but wonder why this wasn’t happening sooner to be honest but at the same time you were of course terrified.

What if they were caught?

What then? What would become of them and of you, for fucks sake you were essentially an accomplice. You didn’t think they’d sell you down the river but you couldn’t be certain that if they were caught that your involvement wouldn’t be found out in the process.

What really wasn’t helping was spending more time with Randy and Sid and them together. They were so cute and so happy, both so excited for everything to come in their lives, and you were happy for them, but still scared for yourself.

You felt so unsure. Unsteady and worried.

One late afternoon you were at Sidney’s house, you had been a couple of times and were on one end of the couch and they were on the other, holding hands and leaning against each other, you didn’t make it obvious you were looking at them. You caught this small moment where he kissed her cheek and she wasn’t expecting it and the way she smiled and returned it and just fuck it made your heart ache just a little bit.

You missed the boys.

You had been busy with work and because of the curfew and just general life shit you kept missing them. You kept trying to meet up, tried to plan dates and spend time and it kept falling through for one reason or another. Hanging with Sid and Randy was good but you felt a bit like a third wheel and it really just brought home how stuff wasn’t quite working with your boys. You were reminded of what you told Sidney at the start of summer how things between the three of you just “Worked” and “Clicked”, and yeah, that is all great until it isn’t working or clicking anymore.

If Randy and Sidney ever brought up what was happening it made that fear and anxiety spike. One of them would say “Did you hear they pulled more people in for questioning the other day?” “Yeah, I hear they are narrowing it down.”

It would make your stomach twist. Hearing them or anyone talk about what was going on with such anger and disgust. “Who would do that?” You would nod along and try to change the subject as quickly as you could without raising questions, trying not to let on to how much it bothered you, passing it off as you simply didn’t want to talk about it, everyone else was going on about it enough, you just wanted to have a good time with them.

Sidney was understandably very anxious. Didn’t want to go out a whole lot and preferred to stick close with other people and you got it. You were happy to hang out and keep your minds off what was going on together.

There was this one night that was rough. You had made plans, you thought they were just as excited as you were for this. You brought a change of clothes and right after work were ready and waiting. You had been thinking of them and of this, another proper date night, for a while, something you had been busy with this summer at work was making something special for the boys. One of your coworkers had been helping you out, when the manager was out a lot of you guys would make your own flavors of stuff with what they had in the store. So you were sitting on one of the picnic tables out front of the store, a pint of ice cream for each of them that you made special for them both.

Okay so they were a bit late.

And a bit late turned into a lot late.

And a lot later turned into a phone call from Billy telling you that, “Something came up and they would have to reschedule.”

“Least he apologized.” You attempted to rationalize as you hung up and threw out the melted ice cream, you decided to go on a bike ride and try to clear your head.

You rode around the quiet streets and weren’t even fully sure where you were headed until you realized you were already far enough out and hell, why not go there?

You made it and walked your bike up, dropping it in the grass and walking over to the ledge. You looked out on the view of the town of Woodsboro and took a deep breath, eyes falling close and letting out, just feeling the breeze and trying to collect yourself. A few more deep breaths before you allowed yourself to take in the view again.

“What the fuck happened?”

You said it outloud to yourself and let it hang in the air. You recalled the first time you were here with them when they showed you this place and you all expressed your feelings and they said those stupid three words for the first time back to you, “I love you.” far too laced with meaning. That time felt so far away. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and took it out.

Stu was calling.

You answered, “Hello?” and he greeted you, “Hey hon.” he sounded tired. “I wanted to call and check in on you.”

Sure. You nodded with a hum and let him keep going, “I’m sorry we had to bail again, promise to make it up to you.”

You wanted to believe him. There was something in his voice that prompted you to ask this next, something had been lingering on your mind lately and you figured fuck it, you had nothing to lose “What did you have to do tonight?”

“Oh-Uhm well, nothing much, wasn’t THAT importan-”

“But it was important enough to break our date. When we haven’t had one in weeks.”

The silence on the line was deafening. A beat. “Did Billy put you up to this?”

“What?” He asked it sounding a little offended but you knew him, could hear in his tone of voice a hint of truth.

“You heard me Stu. I feel like you aren’t wanting to be apart this much. Something is up, I’m not stupid.”

More silence.

He wanted to spill his guts you could feel it but something was holding him back. “Fucks sake! Will you please just talk to me?”

You could feel weeks of emotional build up getting to you, feeling so out of the loop and so disconnected, you were close to tears and finally he said, “I can’t talk about it right now, okay? I want to, I really fucking do but I-”

“Why not?!” You were finally breaking, and the hand that wasn’t holding your phone up came up to wipe at your eyes, you hated this, wanted to pour out everything you’d been feeling but putting it into words without crying was impossible. Getting so emotional when trying to talk shit out like this wasn’t helpful to your case, made you feel small and just too much, felt far too much.

You heard something on the other end, phone being pulled away and barely making out, “Yeah I’m talking to her-God c’mon man please- Okay! Ease up!” and the phone was brought back and Stu was saying an extremely reluctant “Fuck, sorry, have to go, talk soon, I promise.”

And before you could say anything else or protest, he hung up and you let yourself sit down, phone abandoned in the grass next to you and letting it pour out of you. Crying into your hands for a few minutes, full body sobs, before allowing yourself to slump back in the grass, looking up at the night sky. Last time you were like this you were between the two of them, barely catching your breath and unreasonably happy with your heart beating out of your chest and now you felt the furthest you possibly could from that.

You stayed up there and cried until you couldn’t, unsure of how all of this went sideways. You should have said more, asked more questions, just done more, you had to try and change this. It was late and cold when you biked home, dried tears staining your cheeks as you thought and turned over this whole situation in your mind.

Saying that this sucked was an understatement.

This wasn’t the summer you had in mind at all. July was almost done and you hadn’t had a date with them in weeks. Another murder had happened and everything was so fucking tense, you felt like they were pulling away and you were losing them, and you didn’t know why and it hurt, felt like your chest was hallow, had been scooped out and left empty.

Ignoring all of it was impossible. Nights spent thinking and nearly sick with the worry and feeling so lonely and broken up about it.

They went so far back and knew each other so well, they had shared this side of themselves with you and were very open and vulnerable but it wasn’t the same. They actually did this together, engaged in it together, partners in crime and maybe they decided you were just a bit of fun but they didn’t want more, didn’t want that future with you because you didn’t really GET them like they got each other.

Thinking all of this makes you feel like shit too. Doubting them when they haven’t given you a real reason to. Whenever you were with them everything was so good, it was so easy to forget the doubt then, maybe this was all because you hadn’t seen them properly in so long. Maybe you should do something to fix that. Remind them and yourself why you were together and worked and clicked so well.

It was almost a year of you all being together.

You were desperate to resolve this, whatever it was, before then, you wanted to enjoy it, didn’t want it tainted by this, it was important to you.

The night of July 31st, right when it was turning into August 1st was when you all decided to get together. You had already bought gifts and had plans and were convinced they had things planned too. You knew them and were sure they weren’t about to just gloss over something so important, or at least you hoped, everything in your head was so muddled lately it was hard to tell.

You’d be damned if whatever the fuck this was was ruined by a lack of seeing each other or communication. If you were right in front of them they’d have to listen right?

You got on your bike that night with plans of going to Stu’s, you were sure they would be there, they had your schedule and thought you’d be working but you switched and were going to go and talk to them.

It had to work. It would work. Wouldn’t it?

#TBABTO #Two Boys Are Better Than One #BHF writing #Billy Loomis #Stu Macher #Poly!Ghostface X Reader #Thoughts?!#We are close to the end!

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 4 years ago

Text

To never being parted (final chapter)

This is Chapter 5 (and final Chapter) of the mini sequel to my flower cards inspired Kitty Fan Fic “Am I Forgotten?”

AO3 Link here.

It’s a sex scene - and yes I am blushing as I post this - so if you are not in for R-rated sexytimes, don’t click the keep reading tag…

****

Kit opened his bedroom door and froze.

Ty was lying on his bed, his back to him. He was only wearing his boxer shorts, and his long legs were tangled in the blanket, its white color melting with Ty’s alabaster complexion. Kit could not help but smile at the way Ty always took things so literally.

Kit moved soundlessly to stand next to the bed. For a moment, he just watched Ty, observed the way his chest rose and fell with each of his soft exhalations. He was so beautiful that Kit was afraid to touch him only to discover that he wasn’t real. He was wearing his headphones on and Kit could hear the low sound of music emanating from them.

Kit took a deep breath before he shed all his clothes and lay down next to Ty, entirely naked. As he gently removed Ty’s headphones from his ears, Kit could hear the music louder and more distinctly.

He looked around to find Ty’s phone on the bedside table. The mobile phone screen showed that the music playing was Gnossienne N°1 by Erik Satie. Kit moved his arm over Ty’s body to press the pause button but his aim wasn’t perfect and he ended up launching the next song. It was from Erik Satie as well, a song called “Je Te Veux.” He wasn’t fluent in French, but he knew enough to translate the words. I Want You. He couldn’t help but smile at the irony.

He tried a second time and managed to pause the music. As he withdrew his hand from the bedside table, Kit was startled as he caught a pair of silver gray eyes staring at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t.”

Kit started stroking Ty’s exposed arm, with a light touch of his fingers. He wanted to feel Ty’s skin against his, to share their heat.

He edged closer to Ty, until there was no space left between them. Ty could probably feel Kit’s arousal against his back, but Kit didn’t care. Not after everything that had happened between them.

He heard Ty’s sharp intake of breath. “Something wrong, Ty?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“No,” Ty whispered. “You can come closer.”

Kit laughed, making both their bodies shake. “I can’t come closer than that. I really can’t. You know that. I am as close as I can be, unless…”

Kit felt heat rushing to his face and his heart fluttering in his chest as he processed. He swallowed hard.

Ty said nothing. He reached for the drawer of Kit’s nightstand and Kit shivered at the sudden loss of heat. It did not take long, and Kit felt all the blood in his body rush to his groin as he saw what Ty had retrieved. A condom. How the hell did he know where to…? Never mind.

“I… I don’t know how to use this.” Ty’s voice was barely a whisper. “Theoretically, I do. But I never had the chance to practice…”

“It’s okay,” Kit choked, wondering how he had found his voice. He took the condom and put it on with shaking fingers, as Ty turned to watch with an academic interest.

Ty shed the last piece of clothing separating them, then went back to his former position, his back against Kit’s bare torso, as if he could not make himself look at Kit. Kit caught a glimpse of Ty’s red cheeks before he turned his face away.

“Er… Ty, I am not going to go anywhere like this, let me…” Gently, Kit directed Ty so that he was half kneeling half lying, his legs slightly parted.

Kit caressed Ty’s length with one hand, while the other held Ty’s, their fingers interlocking. After a little while, he used his hand to direct himself and close the gap, breaking the last barrier between them. As he started to move inside Ty, he felt Ty stiffen, saw his eyes widening and his lips parting in surprise, and froze.

“Do you want me to stop? I can stop at any time if you don’t feel like going further.”

“No,” said Ty, in a muffled voice, as he squeezed his eyes shut, buried half his face in the pillow and clutched the material tightly with his hands. “Don’t stop.”

Kit pushed further inside Ty, but slowly, taking his time, all the while murmuring to Ty that everything was okay, that he loved him, that he was beautiful. That he could say no at any time.

Ty didn’t answer. His face was still turned away, and Kit felt him relax little by little, as he feathered kisses across Ty’s shoulder, against his neck, buried his face in Ty’s hair.

When Kit was fully embedded, shivers of unbidden pleasure ran up his spine and he stopped moving.

Holy shit. Sweet Mary, Mother of God. This felt like… Heaven. So good. Too good… Kit was going to be finished before it had even started.

He shook his head sharply, trying to clear it. This could not happen. Think, think about something gross. Mantid Demons. Ravener Demons. Drevak demons. Disgusting little beasts.

“Ty,” he said, holding still. “Ty, I am sorry I just need a little moment. To… to get my bearings.”

“It’s okay,” Ty replied, in a soothing tone, his voice muffled against the pillow. “So do I.”

Kit came back to his senses. Ty would not mind. This was not about performance. This was just two people in love with each other, trying to be as close as they could possibly be. If they could melt into each other, so would they.

A flash of memories. Their fifteen-year-old selves in Cornwall. Their eighteen-year-old selves in a nightclub. “I don’t mind if it’s you.”

I don’t mind if it’s you, Ty. I don’t mind if it’s you.

Kit started pressing his hips against Ty with a renewed purpose, each of his thrusts eliciting a drowning noise from Ty, until Ty suddenly moved with him, instinctively, and they both moved together, blissful heat building up through their intertwined bodies.

As Kit now welcomed the waves of pleasure rolling over his entire body, he murmured encouragement in Ty’s hair, telling him he was doing great, telling him how good it felt to be inside him. How perfect.

Ty’s raspy moans grew louder and louder, his long fingers clutching the sheets, until he choked, “Kit- I can’t… I can’t think... I am losing control.” And he did lose it. Kit felt Ty’s whole body tense as he released himself in the bedsheets with a savage groan.

It was all Kit needed to reach his own orgasm, a second after Ty, his legs shaking and his eyes blurring with tears, as he buried his face in Ty’s hair. He cried some words he couldn’t make out through the blood pounding in his ears and poured himself inside his condom.

Kit withdrew himself and rolled onto his back, breathing deeply to regain his normal heartbeat. Ty turned to watch him through his long eyelashes, his eyes half closed. His cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, and he looked absolutely breathtaking. One of the corners of his mouth lifted, as if he found something entertaining.

“What?” asked Kit, smiling in turn, though his breathlessness.

“When you… you kept calling my name. My full name. Tiberius.”

“I did?” asked Kit. “Well, it is a beautiful name. So are you. Beautiful, I mean. That was my very first thought the first time we met.”

“You mean, when I was holding a knife to your throat?” Ty asked, one of his eyebrows raised. He sounded dubious.

“Exactly,” Kit replied, grinning. “You were holding a knife to my throat, and all I could think of was how beautiful you were. Come to think of it, it does make me sound shallow.”

“I think you are beautiful,” Ty said. “Does that make me shallow?” He cocked his head. He seemed genuinely curious and Kit could not help but feel touched.

“Of course not, Ty. It only means you have excellent taste.”

Ty chuckled.

They were now lying on the mattress facing each other. Ty’s head rested on his hands, brought together as if in a prayer. Kit stroked Ty’s cheek and brought Ty’s head against his neck, so he could kiss his forehead.

“The first time we met…” Ty said. “I saw the defiance in your eyes, the pride with which you held yourself, although you were a mundane – or so I thought – with a knife against his throat. You even fought back and got me to lose my hold on you for a moment, although you had absolutely no training. I was struck then by how brave you were. And I must admit, I looked into your blue eyes and, for the first time in my life, realized that I liked what I saw.”

“It’s strange to look back and realize that the people I thought were invading my home were… in fact, my real home.”

“Is that what you believe?” Ty asked. Both his eyebrows raised, and Kit saw a flicker of hope in his eyes. “So you are never going to leave me again?”

“Are you kidding? Now that I know what it feels like to be inside you, I am going to move in and live there.”

Ty gasped.

“I am messing with you, Ty. I am not speaking literally. This would be…”

“Technically impossible?” Ty offered. Kit chuckled.

“On a more serious note, I would love it if we moved in together. Someday. When you are ready.”

Ty’s breath hitched.

“You really mean it? You are never going to leave me again?”

Kit kissed Ty’s forehead.

“To never being parted, Ty.”

“To never being parted, Kit.”

*****

Two hours later, Kit was roused from his sleep by urgent kisses on his eyelids, nose, cheeks… A bite on his… earlobe?

He opened one blurry eye. Ty was lying on top of him, his expression eager. He did not seem one bit tired. Kit could even feel Ty’s hardness against his stomach.

“What is it, Ty?” Kit mumbled in a sleepy daze. “In case you were wondering, that was me sleeping.”

“Let’s do it again,” said Ty, sounding excited.

“What time is it?” Kit groaned, rubbing his eye.

“3:17 AM,” Ty answered, as if he had said 8 PM and was wondering what all the fuss was about.

Kit sighed. Blackthorns. He should have known. Why on earth did he have to fall in love with a Blackthorn?

*****

Tagging @darkkitai

#cassandraclare #cassandra clare fan fiction #kitty tda #kitty fanfiction #tda fanfiction #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #tsc fanfiction #tsc fan fiction #kit herondale #kit herongraystairs #tiberius blackthorn #ty blackthorn #kitty blackstairs #the shadowhunter chronicles #the shadowhunters chronicles icons

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masterjedilenawrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 9

Starring: Crosshair, OC Joan Vo

Chapter Warnings: Some angst

Taglist: @proadhog @skippyhopperwisdom

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 9: Insult to Injury

Crosshair had never been one to run from conflict. Whether it was with weapons, words, or something in between. Even though he hated it, he hated being ridiculed or attacked, he hated losing or feeling less than, he still embraced the fight. Oftentimes he even started one, just to get ahead of the inevitable confrontation.

This thing with Joan, though, he couldn't bring himself to face. He did everything he could to avoid her. Avoid seeing her, avoid thinking about her.... He managed to make it a whole week, but just barely. It was somehow a harder week than the one he'd spent without seeing her before. He'd liked her then; he'd had hope. Now all he had was his wound pride, and a little nagging voice in the back of his head that wondered if maybe he had overreacted.

But now there were only two days left before their training ended and their lives as soldiers began. And he had to see her. It was required.

He sat on the examination table, the same one he'd sat on all those weeks ago when he'd first met her. He had dreaded that moment, not knowing he'd be dealing with someone like her. Someone so kind and caring toward him and his brothers. Someone who was honest and fair and didn't take crap from anyone. Someone beautiful. He tried not to remember how he'd felt when he'd first seen her, and all the feelings he'd acquired since then. But his stomach churned in protest, the room containing too many memories to simply be ignored.

Doctor Joan strode into the room a few minutes late, wearing her full-length blacks and carrying a datapad. She plopped it unceremoniously onto the table next to him. He planned to not look at her, keep his gaze fixed on the opposite wall, and to not respond to any of her attempts at conversation, only offer short answers to any questions necessary for her final assessment. He expected her to either be upset by it, or just not care.

But instead, Joan was silent. He didn't see her move from his periphery, only stand with arms crossed looking at him with a very neutral expression. He wasn't normally bothered by silence, but this one eventually became unbearable.

He finally glared over at her, and she immediately spoke.

"How are you?"

He snapped his gaze back to the wall with pursed lips. Nope. He wouldn't give in.

"Crosshair."

Usually he'd have to fight to keep his heart steady when he heard her say his name. But she was mad, he could hear it in her voice. His name did not sound so sweet to hear now.

"I'm fine," he said, hoping that would shut her up despite knowing it wouldn't.

"You asked to see me last week," she regarded him with narrow eyes. "And then you blew it off. Hunter says you're busy but I know you're avoiding me. You are not fine. And unless you open up and tell me about it, I don't know how to help you."

She had spoken just long enough for Crosshair to get worked up. He couldn't stop himself from breaking his own resolution to stay silent.

"Just stop," he snapped and her eyes grew wide. "Stop acting like you care. Like you're not just doing a job and none of us matter."

"But I do care," she said slowly.

"Just like you care about the regs?" he dismissed with a snarl. "Calling them your brothers, flirting with them.... You have no idea what they are really like. How... how condescending and spiteful and... and cruel they can be."

He was really worked up now. He jumped off the table and began pacing aimlessly. Words spewed from his mouth, far more than he'd ever said at once before, and he wasn't sure any of them were making sense but he suddenly had a need to get them out.

"The things they say, the names... They call us the bad batch. Bad. Because we're different and so that means we're good for nothing, right? Even though I can shoot a moving target from a thousand meters away, it doesn't matter. Still not good enough."

"Cross..." she started to say softly. But he didn't want her sympathy. He stopped pacing and whirled to face her.

"You don't get it. You don't know what that's like. Everywhere you go, you've got everyone tripping over themselves to get your attention. Me included. And you just eat it up. Like it's a game to you. Acting like you enjoy my company, like I'm special, and then turning around and doing the same thing with some reg."

Joan's look of surprise through his ranting now turned into one of confusion. "I'm sorry... what?"

"Don't act like you don't know," he scoffed. "I saw you laughing with some regs in your office, when you were supposed to be meeting with me."

He was done now. He'd said more than he should have and he didn't like how she still didn't seem to understand. He clenched his jaw and refused to look at her, burning holes into the opposite wall with his gaze instead.

"Wait," she said, tying to wrap her head around it all. "This is about... you're not seriously... jealous?"

"No," he quickly snapped. Maybe a little too quick.

"Okay, good," she stated, starting to come out of her confusion and settle back into her usual, sensible tone. "Because that'd be pretty ridiculous, getting jealous over me being nice to people."

He knew that. As soon as she'd said the word, as soon as he had a name for the emotions he'd been fighting all week, he knew he was being completely and utterly ridiculous. He'd never minded her kindness to his brothers; in fact, he'd admired it. But seeing her with the regs had definitely made him feel jealous. Threatened. He still hated them, he would never budge on that, but he'd had no right to project his anger and insecurities onto Joan.

"I mean, what do you think I do with my time?" she continued, still appalled this was why he had been upset with her. "Just sit around and wait for you to need me? Sure, the clone force is my main responsibility, but there are other ways I'm useful here."

Crosshair lowered his gaze to the floor but kept his posture tense. He wasn't sure what to do now. How could he possibly take back everything he'd said? The foolish and immature way he'd been acting?

Maybe Joan could sense his guilt as she slowly moved closer, like she was approaching an injured animal. He sure felt like he was, albeit, his wounds were of his own fault. She stood just in front of him, silent again, though this time not to coax him into speaking. He looked up at her to see her eyes casting about, thinking of what to say.

"My parents were doctors," she eventually began. "They would travel to underprivileged communities all over the galaxy, even as far as Wild Space. And they'd take me with them. I might not have understood the technical parts of what they did. I'd learn all that on my own later. But they did teach me how to care for people. All peoples, no matter who they were, what they'd done. It's not just my job, but my duty to make people feel better. I can, so I must. Whether it's helping someone recover from an injury, or laughing at a joke that isn't that funny."

She gave him a little smirk, and he found himself falling for her all over again.

"I'm not going to apologize for being nice, especially to those who will probably never meet someone willing to treat them kindly again."

He shook his head rapidly. "No, you're not the one who needs to apologize. I...."

He hesitated with the word, it wasn't one he said very often. He remembered being in a similar situation not too long ago, where he'd snapped at her unfairly, and he'd walked away with only a smile as an apology. She deserved more from him now.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to say it clearly and confidently. He held her gaze and repeated it for good measure. "I'm sorry, Joan. I shouldn't have been jealous like that. I have no right to tell you how to treat others. And you really are so good to everyone. That's... one of the reasons why I like you."

He didn't say the last part as confidently, dropping his voice low and almost stuttering it out through a suddenly shaky breath.

She smiled and nodded, accepting his apology just like that. No strings, no deals. He wasn't worthy of such simple forgiveness. But he would take what he could get.

"Well uh, just so you know," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears and looking down at the floor. Crosshair felt that familiar wave of warmth rising from his chest, the one he'd been ignoring all week, and thought he'd never get to feel again. He was careful not to get too carried away this time, though. He didn't want to read into anything. He would wait patiently for her to tell him and he wouldn't jump to any wrong conclusions.

"I do enjoy your company. When you asked to see me... Well, I hadn't been having a good week, and that day.... Let's just say I didn't expect to be able to do much. But I ended up looking forward to you coming by. I was worried when you didn't show. It made the day that much worse."

She was still looking downward, and he let his gaze follow hers. Her fingers were twisting the hem of her shirt.

"I know I don't fully understand. Your life, what you've been through. But there's some things you don't know about me, either."

Her hands were so close to his. He reached out for them, carefully testing her reaction as he let his fingers brush against hers, gently loosening them from her shirt, and intertwining them with his own. She seemed hesitant to accept his attempt at comfort, but she wasn't retreating. Not yet. Encouraged, he held on a little more firmly. For a few seconds, she let him, and then she finally withdrew.

"In this room, you are my patient. I have to treat you the same as all my patients. Professionally." She took in a measured breath, her eyes finally looking up into his. "But outside of this room, I'm allowed to have friends. Or enemies. Or... other things."

Her lips twitched into a small smile and so did his. He wasn't sure how he could misinterpret her now.

"What are you doing tonight?"

Her smile grew and she let out a breathless laugh. "Nothing."

"Well, maybe we could get to know each other a little better? Since we've clearly had such a hard time understanding each other so far."

Joan nodded, starting to take a few steps back toward the table, ready to get the examination underway. "I'd like that. What did you have in mind?"

He followed her and sat back atop the table while he thought about it. "Sector 11, just to the right of the double doors. I'll meet you there."

"Okay. I should be wrapped up with all this testing for you boys by eight."

She held up a syringe with an apologetic look.

Oh right, he groaned internally, now snapping back to reality. The dreaded testing....

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x oc #angst #but only a little #because apparently i can't handle it #i need people to get along #and i want to write some fluff already

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squeeneyart · 4 years ago

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 19

AO3

Beta reader is @thesnadger!

Social interaction has its pros and cons.

Martin considers a way to pass the time.

Technically, there was no call that night.

Martin had had months to familiarize himself with the strange predawn that added a little color to the sky each morning. His home was on the western coast, so of course he didn’t see much of it until he’d made the trek uphill. With some cloud cover and dense fog, though, the light would scatter and cast a cold blanket of grey light over his corner of the world.

Early on he found it sort of nice, seeing the world ‘wake up’. He’d even started to get up earlier than necessary, just to make himself some tea and look out the window for signs of birds or other creatures who made their lives at dawn and dusk. There were some lines of poetry about it somewhere in his notebook, something about the magic of a quiet morning in solitude.

He’d lasted about a week with that. Turned out his life was already quiet and full enough of contemplative solitude, and warm blankets were much better than cold kitchen tile against his feet.

It was during this little sliver of morning when his mobile, vibrating against the wood of his bedside table, dragged him back to consciousness.

“No…” he groaned, nuzzling into his pillow. It could only be one person. “Don’t make me come in early. Don’t make me come in early, you prick-”

He reached over (god it was cold) and grabbed the offending object, keeping as much of himself under the blankets as possible and slipping the mobile back under with him. The screen was bright and painful in his cozy darkness. His eyes adjusted, and on his lockscreen the time read 4:06 a.m.

Before he could convince himself to let the damned thing ring itself out, he glanced at the caller ID. If anything it should’ve given him even more reason to let the call go, but Martin’s finger was already pressing the answer button.

Attempting to whisper, his voice came out rough and croaky. “Jon?”

“Martin. Glad you’re still up,” Jon said in that distant way of someone paying attention to another task entirely. Keyboard clicks could be heard in the background. “How are you doing?”

Still up? Bleary and confused, Martin replied as if he’d just run into Jon at the store, “Fine, I guess? How are you?”

“I’ve successfully whittled down my assignments enough to have personal research opportunities.” There was a weary but nevertheless triumphant edge to his words. “If this is some sort of test of my abilities, I’d say I deserve a raise.”

“Impressive,” Martin yawned. “Does that mean anything for me, or…”

“No, not yet.” He could feel Jon deflate on the other end. “I’ve only just started looking, and Elias is still acting rather blasé about what we found. I hadn’t pegged him as the type to put business relations over the mission statement, but if that’s the case then-”

“Why send you out here?”

“Precisely.” Jon clicked his tongue. “So I’m going to pry in that direction while digging through old reports. I assume the others will do the same once they’re caught up.”

Well, progress was as good as anything to wake up to. He reluctantly pulled the blankets from over his head and peeked out at his window. The frost was just visible at the edges, its frigid hands creeping across the glass. Perhaps a little while longer under the covers.

“Anyway, I’m glad I caught you,” Jon continued, filling the space Martin had left empty. The keyboard taps had ceased. “I’d decided to give you some breathing room, but you were quiet during the call with everyone and I thought- well, I wanted to make sure you were okay. As much as can be expected.”

A small, halfhearted smile found its way onto Martin’s face. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“So… are you okay? I know you said you were, but it sounded like you were being polite.”

Martin looked up at his ceiling. “I mean I was being polite, but… Yeah, I’m okay. As much as can be expected, like you said, but okay.”

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

“What? Nothing, it’s good. I’m gl- I’m happy that you’re… doing okay.” Midway between this thought, Jon seemed to switch the mobile from one ear to the other. “If you aren’t, I just hope you know that you can tell me if something is going on. Sometimes there are emotional aspects that contribute to an event-”

As Jon spoke at length, Martin noticed a distinct tumbling feel in the way Jon spoke, like his thoughts were coming faster than his mouth could follow. Not alcohol, surely? No, a different idea had been bothering Martin since Jon had first called.

“-can’t speak for Tim or Sasha about hours, and if you’d rather just talk one-on-one, I’m sure-”

“Right, hours. Jon, I don’t mean to pry, but have you slept at all?”

The stream of consciousness halted in its tracks. “What?”

“You seem a bit… out of it? Have you checked the time recently?”

A moment passed. Then another. Then- “That can’t be right.”

Weakly, Martin replied, “Good morning to you, too.”

“I-” Jon began. He then made a small, irritated noise. “I woke you up.”

Martin ran a hand over his face and pressed it to his upturned mouth. Into it he mumbled, “You really need to sleep.”

As if the hours had finally come crashing down upon him, Jon’s voice dropped low and soft and properly tired. “I could’ve sworn it was earlier.”

“I mean, in a sense-”

“You know what I mean.” A yawn finally broke through, but he fought it back down. “I hope it wasn’t too much earlier than your normal wake-up time?”

“Nah. You’ve seen how early my day starts. Besides, my alarm isn’t the most pleasant thing to wake up to, and you could’ve been Peter calling me in early.” It was like getting up to enjoy the morning, but he was still in bed and someone else was there (sort of). As far as he was concerned, the pros outweighed the cons.

“Then I’ll hold my apology for a later date, if you don’t mind.” He spoke bluntly, but possibly in a way that was meant to be funny. Martin was still working out when Jon was being blunt in a rude way or in a friendly way, and his gut pushed him toward the latter. “I also won’t apologize for my work ethic. I work better at night, without distractions or other people.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Martin asked, “Okay, I can play along with that, but when do you sleep?”

“We have a cot.”

Martin scoffed. “What, at work?” An image of the three researchers finding different corners in some dark back room to snooze on company time was almost too much.

“Working after-hours is implied in the description of any academic job. If we didn’t steal some of the day back to sleep, we’d all have dropped dead by now.” For a moment his voice strained as if he was stretching, dipping into the background before returning to normal. “Though this past week has been a bit more extreme due to circumstances. I’m not always up until dawn, calling people in a stupor.”

“First time for everything?” Martin said helpfully, pushing down weakly against the rising guilt. “I know it’s a bad situation, but I’m sorry you all have to work so hard.”

“No need for that. I can choose to sacrifice a few nights for something important.”

Slowly, very slowly, Martin pressed his burning face into his pillow. Maybe it was too early for him after all, to handle anything approaching concern. The heat was surely enough to melt the ice right off the window. Ignoring the ridiculous reaction happening in his cheeks, he turned his face back upwards and mumbled, “Thanks.”

There was a small rustling of papers. With the same damned softness, Jon continued, “I’m sure Tim and Sasha would say the same.”

A quiet thing clung deep in Martin’s throat, and in his nose, and he imagined a version of himself from the night before, scared and powerless and ready to dump any and all his feelings on the first person who would speak with him. Would that have been something Jon was prepared for, if he’d called at a sensible hour? Or if Martin had called first? But it was nearly morning, and he was well rested, and eventually the thought fell away in his wakefulness.

Without a response to go on, Jon said, "I’m not going to be as… outwardly optimistic as before, but…”

“You’re making progress,” Martin finished, coughing lightly. “I know. I’ll be patient, and careful. It’s hard after the weird stuff we did last week, though.”

“I’d like to say it was all due to extreme circumstances, but we are just like this.”

“There go my hopes of you all getting proper rest when this is over.”

“S’not impossible, but terribly unlikely.”

Martin sighed, checking his screen clock again. Still some time left. “Is it safe to assume you won’t be sleeping at this point?”

“Won’t be long until I can go to the archives. I’ll wait until then and avoid being groggy on public transit.” A pause. “Also my last energy drink is still working.”

“Mm.” Letting his forearm fall across his eyes, Martin gave up that particular battle. “Anything new set off your ‘fake’ alarms recently?”

“You’re in luck. Just yesterday a man came in to tell me about his experience with ‘spy birds’ that even you can’t devil’s-advocate your way through.”

“I’ll be the judge.”

It was a tough sell, even for Martin whose own situation made a lot of things seem possible. Midway through he even began to resent the person for wasting time better spent solving Martin’s problems, but that was an emotional rabbit hole for another time. By the end he had to concede that it was more of a conspiracy than a supernatural encounter, if they were going to get into the semantics of it. Still, Jon made it easy to be contrarian.

“When we’re not busy with all this,” Jon said, accepting that Martin wasn’t yet ready to forgo the benefit of the doubt, “I’ll be happy to sit outside and film birds all day for the sake of science, but the man finds perfectly normal birds unsettling.”

With a silly kind of bullheadedness, Martin replied, “Plenty of seabirds around here. Maybe that’s what I’ll do while I wait for something to happen.”

Jon snorted. “I expect a full report by Monday.”

Before Martin could respond, his phone made an all too familiar and dreadful noise. He really should’ve picked a song or something, he thought as he dismissed his alarm. “Well, it’s that time.”

“Yes, I should be getting along with my morning as well. Good luck with your birdwatching,” he said with joking scorn.

“Have fun sleeping on the bus.”

“Ha ha. Goodbye, Martin.”

“Bye.”

Dropping his arm onto the bed, mobile in hand, Martin ignored the numbness in his fingers and considered how invested he was in writing a fake report about birds just to see the reaction it would get. Maybe he would text Tim about it.

The idea sat in the back of his mind as he got dressed, as he made breakfast, as he put on his shoes and coat and hat. When he opened the door to meet the cold that had settled in overnight, he couldn’t help but wince at the extra bit of sting the wind delivered, but he clung to his fanciful little idea all the way up the hills and through town.

Creative writing had never been his strong suit. It was debatable if poetry was, but he’d reached a point where it was more of a comforting activity than a skill. Still, as he got to work in the blessedly empty lighthouse, he thought of the little notebook he’d stashed into his bag. If it all came to nothing, he could end up with scraps of text to rearrange into poetry someday.

It was a mess of a book. Technically bound, it was still cheap with some pages starting to come loose from his handling. He’d long ago given up on the idea of a nice looking notebook, especially as it had become personal enough to count as horribly embarrassing. It was inevitable for any poetry notebook of his to become more akin to a scattered, flowery journal of sorts, and this one was no different.

It was also a step up from previous ones in that it wasn’t some spiral-bound school notebook he’d found in the discount section of the general store. No, he had found it in a bookstore discount section. The stiff cover even had sort of a nice texture before he’d beaten it up by shoving it into a drawer a million times.

The day crawled by with no interruptions, leaving Martin on edge. Peter hadn’t come by once. Perhaps he’d assumed Martin had had any boldness scared out of him, an aggravating thought. He had the will to act. He also had some amount of self preservation left in him, that was all.

By lunchtime he was itching to talk to anyone, but texting the others was off limits and it was so dreary outside that going out to eat was a non-starter. He supposed he could stop by the grocery store. He knew some of the people from when he’d worked there. Most of the ones he’d worked with had also left, but maybe…

No, that was a stupid idea. He wasn’t seeing anyone unless they came to him.

No one did.

So in his time off the clock, he stared at his little notebook and hoped his brain would think of anything to say.

The weather had taken a more miserable turn by the time he’d left work in the evening. He only saw a few birds struggling in the gales, none of them particularly watchful. If he had to guess, they didn’t care much about what anyone was doing. Not great material for a report, but maybe for a poem when the feeling hit.

The streets were largely empty as people avoided the high winds and mist that sprayed against Martin’s glasses, making it a challenge to see anything around him. He had half a mind to just stow them away, but there was going to be water in his eyes no matter what he chose to do. Just another little thing to make his day worse that he couldn’t change.

Part of him considered that the weather often matched his mood, but it wasn’t hard for bad weather to pair with sour thoughts. Nearly all weather was bad and nearly all moods were sour. Correlation, etcetera.

As much as he’d wanted to check his phone as soon as work was over, the others could wait until he’d stopped feeling so damned sorry for himself.

And he did feel awful, though there was no inciting incident. It had been a long, tedious day where the words wouldn’t flow, the world was grey, and any residual happiness from his conversation with Jon had been slowly eaten away by the loneliness of the present. Why was it so hard to hold onto those good things? A good start was supposed to make the day better, not make the rest of the day look worse.

It had to be everything at the lighthouse. He’d always been moody as a person, but the stress had to be getting to him. His head shouldn’t have been hurting from holding back tears when nothing had happened.

God, the squinting wasn’t helping, either. He knew where he was going, of course, but the streetlights were barely helping. The sky had decided to paint itself over everything, a dark, grey blob of water and concrete and fog. The walk down the hill was going to be a slippery pain, even in his grippy boots.

Had he passed by the florist? He probably should have by now, but the main road hadn’t ended yet.

And even when he got home, oh joy, it would be to sit at a table and eat with his mother, and based on her tastes she would love to stand outside in the misery of it all even though it would be terrible for her health. What was the point of trying when another person wouldn’t even listen-

He’d been walking for too long.

The road continued on, no longer heading into the surrounding trees but stretching itself past the point of impossibility. And at the end, in a place where it should not have been visible through the colorless mist, was a large, familiar house.

Ah, Martin thought. Someone had decided to talk to him today.

Looking behind him, the lighthouse was just barely visible. Looking to either side was a fool’s errand, as everything had been consumed by the grey.

He slipped the mobile phone out of his pocket and bent over to shield it from the rain. The screen lit up at his touch, but as expected any and all communication was blocked. Nevertheless, he opened the group chat and began to type.

Martin: i think simon wants to talk. everything is fog and i cant go anywhere else. hoping my phone makes it out so this makes it

He pressed send, then mustered up whatever hope he had and added:

Martin: talk to you soon

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au

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edendaphne · 5 years ago

Text

“Discordant Sonata”- Ch. 15

Have some quarantine reading material!!

>>Read it here on Ao3<< >>Read it here on Wattpad<<

CHAPTER 15: BRAVURA

Music glossary: Bravura - (from Italian “bravery/spirit”) Style of music in which the performer plays boldly, requiring exceptional agility and technical skill in execution.

(Mood music: “For the Love of a Princess” - James Horner )

Sunday Evening

Marinette knocked on the guest bedroom door, or rather, on Chat Noir’s bedroom door, as it had now officially become.

“Come in! It’s open,” she heard from the other side.

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Odd, she thought. For someone who was supposed to be guarding a secret identity at all costs, one would think that Chat would always keep the door locked. First the “bathroom incident” and now this? She wondered what his aversion to locked doors was all about.

Marinette peeked her head into the room and saw him at his desk, writing in a notebook.

“Hey Kitt–uhh, Chat Noir, dinner will be ready in a minute. Would you care to join us?”

Chat’s cat ears perked up. “I’d love to! Thanks! I’ll help set the table in a sec.”

“What are you up to?” she asked, sitting at the edge of his bed.

Chat swiveled his chair around to face her. “Oh, it’s...” he grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the stiffness there. “I was doing some calculations, figuring out a monthly budget and that kind of thing. Trying to figure out how much all my bills will cost.”

“Me-owch,” Marinette cringed. “Sounds suuuuper fun.”

“Yeah, definitely,” he replied with matching sarcasm. “It’s actually been more complicated than I thought.”

“How so?” she asked.

He let out a long sigh. “Well… this is gonna sound weird, but my father as a civilian is, uh… pretty well-known. There’s a lot of people who would recognize me. Any potential employers would be getting in contact with him, asking him questions, or even give him an idea of where to find me. So I can’t apply to jobs as my normal self.” He ran his gloved hand through his hair in exasperation. “But where could I possibly get a job as ‘Chat Noir’?? ‘He’ can’t start a bank account, has no birth certificate, driver’s license, address, phone number. I’d have to get hired under the table, but I might run into some shady people. They might take advantage of the situation, and there’d be nothing I could do to contest them. Or they might try to use me to get free advertisement, and then my father would know where to find me anyway. Ugh, it’s all just a mess,” he groaned. “Anyway, thanks for letting me vent. I’m sure I’ll figure something out, so don’t worry.”

Marinette hummed, thinking. “Well, actually…” she said, tapping her chin. “Since the school year’s starting up again, a couple of our full-timers are switching to part-time to accommodate their university schedules; so the bakery will need some extra help. Obviously you wouldn’t be able to work at the front of the store, attending to customers and whatnot. But there’s still cleaning, washing, and heavy lifting that needs to be done behind the scenes. So if that sounds alright with you, we can talk to my parents about it. I’m sure they’d be happy to have you aboard.”

“Really??” Chat’s head shot up and he chirped excitedly, accidentally dropping his pen in the process. “Th-that would be great! I’ll work really hard, promise! Are you sure it would be okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll say yes! My mom’s already taken quite a liking to you; she’s always talking about how polite and sweet you are.” Chat’s ears perked up and his cheeks reddened upon hearing this, which she found much too adorable. “And I’m sure my dad’s slowly coming around; I can tell, even though he’s stubborn.” She reached over and squeezed his hands. “I’ll put in a good word for you,” she said with a wink.

“You will?!” he replied with a laugh. “Best job reference ever!!” He hopped out of his chair, then bent over and wrapped her up into a tight hug. “You’re the best, Marinette. Seriously.”

She shook off her initial surprise and squeezed back, smiling wide.

“Anything for a friend.”

Dinnertime went over even better than Marinette had hoped. When the subject of a job was broached, Marinette’s mother took to the idea immediately and, citing the need for some extra muscle, eventually managed to win over her father.

Thus, they hired Chat Noir on the spot for part-time work, adding a few extra household chores in lieu of charging him rent. Marinette could hardly contain herself when she saw Chat’s face as he heard that; he looked like he’d won the lottery. And if anyone else had noticed how his eyes got misty and his voice began to quiver as he thanked them, nobody had mentioned it.

After dinner, Marinette invited Chat Noir upstairs to her bedroom, saying she needed help picking out the perfect outfit for her first day back to school. Truth be told, she really did need to choose an outfit; but it was mostly an excuse to hang out with him and serve as a distraction from his stressful circumstances.

Behind his cheerful smile and never ending stream of jokes, he always carried such a lonesome air about him. She’d never noticed it until that first night; the night they danced during the ballroom akuma attack. Or rather, she’d never allowed herself to open up to the possibility that he might be suffering. It would have made fighting him much more difficult had she known.

But as they swayed to the music that night, she could feel the melancholy in his voice, how it seemed to be yearning for more, and she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It was shocking to her; mind-blowing, even. Not the same shock as one might get from a slap in the face, but rather like she’d woken up from a deep sleep. And yet, even then, she never could have anticipated how things would’ve unraveled from that day forward. They had come a long way, and there was still much more ahead of them.

In any case, he was sure to appreciate an evening goofing around with his new roommate, to get his mind off of both his superhero problems and his civilian worries.

“So, what do you think?” she asked as she peered into her closet. “Classy? Trendy? Girly? Vintage? Boho chic?”

Chat furrowed his brows, cocking his head in uncertainty. “I dunno… You’d look great in anything! Just close your eyes and grab something, and voila!”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “What if I grab my fuzzy, pink bathrobe?”

“You’d look great in that too! ‘Comfy chic’, the newest trend on all the cat- walks!” he grinned cheekily.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, you dork, be serious! I wanna look good!”

“But you already look good!” he said, lifting his arms and motioning up and down her entire length for emphasis. “You’d even look good in a burlap sack. I mean it! You’re really cute, Marinette! Besides, it’s not like you need to impress anybody. Everyone already loves you.”

She felt her cheeks warm up at the praise he gave so freely. “I-I… th-that’s sweet of you to say. B-but I wasn’t trying to fish for compliments or anything. I just… want to look a little extra nice. Maybe even stand out a little bit, that’s all,” she added more quietly, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

Chat paused and forward on the chaise. “Hang on,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Marinette... ARE you trying to impress someone? Someone special, maybe?”

Marinette made a startled noise that would best be described as a squawk and whipped back around to face the inside of her closet. “Uhh, NOPE! Nope, nope. Not at all! What makes you say that?!”

Wow, Marinette, very convincing, she groaned inwardly.

Despite her stammering and weak attempts at protesting, Chat exclaimed with a gasp, “So there IS someone!”

He hopped off the chaise towards her, trying to get a peek at her reddened face. “So who is it?? Would I know them? Are you in the same grade, or just the same school? Do they already know you like them? How did you two meet?”

Marinette let out a long screech, rushing away from the closet towards her vanity desk and plopped down on the chair, dropping her head onto the table with a small thunk.

Chat practically glided across to where she’d sat and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Our little Marinette has a crush on someone~!” he crooned in a sing-song voice. “That’s so romantic! You’ll invite me to your wedding, won’t you?”

Marinette let out another long, muffled groan, which only spurred him on, becoming giddy like a small child who’d been given a pile of candy.

He’s never going to stop now that he knows, is he? she bemoaned, cursing her inept, awkward self.

Foregoing any further attempts at denial, she decided to just be honest with him. After all, Alya knew about her crush, and so did her other gal friends. She could confide in Chat too; especially since they were going to be living with each other from now on. Surely there was no harm in him knowing. It’s not like he’d go around blabbing it to anyone. She knew him better than that.

She sighed heavily, not bothering to hoist up her head, which felt like it weighed as much as a boulder at the moment. “He’s a classmate,” she replied in deadpan.

“A classmate, huh?” Chat repeated, voice full of wonder. “That’s so adorable! What else can you tell me about him? Is he cute?”

“Gorgeous,” she replied, with perhaps more emphasis than she intended. “And thoughtful and gentle and kind. A little awkward and nerdy, but friendly and optimistic to a fault. He’s practically perfect. At least, perfect in all the ways that matter to me, anyhow. I’ve known him for a few years, and I’ve been in lov– I MEAN… I’ve had a crush on him pretty much since we first met.”

Sensing her shift in tone, Chat dropped all the playfulness in his voice and asked in earnest, “W-wait… D-did you say… in love?”

Marinette let out a long, pitiful whine, grabbing the hair by the sides of her head and covering her face with it like a tent, trying to hide her eternal shame.

“I can’t believe I just said that…” she moaned wretchedly, very much wishing she could shrink to the size of a mouse right now. “Can you just cataclysm me and pretend you didn’t hear that, please?”

“Wait, so that means…” Chat interrupted, his brows scrunched. “He doesn’t know how you feel about him?”

She shook her head, or rather, kind of shuffled it back and forth on the table’s surface. “I’ve always been too afraid to say anything to him. I never wanted things to become weird between us, so I’ve always just… not taken the risk. He always just kinda… seemed to need a friend more than he needed a relationship, y’know? And I didn’t want to take that away from him. From us.”

Chat paused for a moment, pondering her words. “But what if he feels the same way?” he countered. “Wouldn’t you rather get it off your chest and find out for sure?”

Marinette hesitated, turning her head sideways. “Have you ever liked someone you were too afraid to lose?” she replied quietly.

She could hear Chat’s breath hitch, but he didn’t respond. She wondered if that was something he’d been worrying about as well. He’d never confessed to Ladybug about his own crush; but was that merely due to shyness, or from not wanting to complicate their relationship and their duties as superheroes? Would he jeopardize it?

Chat was a romantic at heart; of that she was certain, judging from his taste in media and books, from their late night conversations, and especially from what Plagg had told her a few days ago.

However, despite his playful flirtatiousness towards her as Ladybug, he’d never verbally expressed any serious interest in a romantic relationship. She could only assume he wanted to keep things as friendly and professional as possible, in order to work on strengthening their relationship as a team, instead of risking a fallout.

Or, at least, that’s what she’d started to tell herself. Everything in her brain was a terrible jumble. Especially after hearing about Chat’s family situation the night before, after the akuma attack. Ladybug had finally learned about Chat’s mother, Hawkmoth’s wife, and things were way more complicated than she could have ever imagined.

Chat Noir had introduced a variable of unpredictability in her life, and she was still trying to sort out her own growing feelings towards him. Were these merely feelings of protectiveness, or was it something else? Had she been projecting her desire for Adrien onto Chat? She didn’t think so, and yet, she’d never experienced anything like this before. How could she know for sure?

Unrequited love felt awful, but at least it was fairly straightforward. Trying to figure out her thoughts and feelings when adding another person into the jumble was frustratingly confusing.

In addition, Hawkmoth’s cruel words from the akuma attack echoed in her head despite trying to dispel them countless times. They resonated within her, trying to worm their way into her brain to plant undeserving guilt and shame. Accusations of taking advantage of Chat; of blind infatuation; of festering doubts and lack of trust.

Not to mention the elephant in the room: the giant, seemingly impenetrable wall of having to hide their identities from each other, which prevented them from being able to grow closer.

Pursuing a romantic path with him right now would not be prudent.

Especially since she was still in love with Adrien.

UGH. She was in love with Adrien. Why had she allowed herself to fall for him?!? Why did he have to be so darn wonderful, so awfully talented, so ridiculously considerate?!

The uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment slithered down her spine once again, traveling all the way from her head to her toes. How could she possibly face Chat Noir now that he knew what a coward she was?

Moments passed and neither of them had broken the ice. She supposed she should be the one to do it, since she was the one that had made things awkward in the first place.

Before she could say anything, however, she felt Chat’s hands settle on her shoulders, and he gently pulled her up into a sitting position. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror, a kind smile painted on his handsome face that she couldn’t help but feel her face flush. His emerald green eyes were so piercing, so sincere, which caused a multitude of butterflies to swarm in her chest despite her having banned them.

Bringing his arms in front of her, he draped a colorful garment across her collarbones so it would cascade all the way down to her lap. Apparently she’d been too busy internally freaking out that she hadn’t even heard him rummaging around in her closet.

“How about this top?” he asked softly. “The cut of the neck will draw attention to your jawline, especially if you wear your hair down, so the sides can frame your facial features. And if you wear this necklace here-” he said as he lifted the accessory from her vanity table, “-it will emphasize your blue eyes very nicely. For bottoms, I’d either go with some dark-wash skinny jeans paired with low heels, or a skirt with a bright pattern and some close-toed flats. Keeping it simple is best, in my opinion. Clean and sophisticated.”

Wait… what?? How did he–

Marinette hadn’t even noticed her jaw had dropped until Chat closed it gently with his index finger, her teeth coming back together with a soft clink.

“You should ask him out. This mystery person,” he added. “You never know what’ll happen. He’ll either like you back, or he won’t. But at least you’ll know, and whatever happens afterwards, it’ll mean you can move on.”

She held the shirt in place with her own hands, but never broke eye contact with him through the mirror. “Would you do the same?” she asked quietly.

Chat looked away, cheeks darkening. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed deeply. “Someday, perhaps. But… I’m not ready yet. Maybe once I become a better person. Somebody worthwhile.”

She turned around to face him, studying his expression. A weight settled uncomfortably in her gut, urging her to fix it, FIX IT!!

But fix what?! Fix it how?? She didn’t know; but she had to try regardless.

She stood up, setting the garment down on the chair, then practically stomped over to him. Chat looked a bit taken aback at how close she’d gotten, his eyes widening in confusion. She threw her arms around his torso, pulling him as close as physically possible without literally merging together. She laid her head on his chest, relishing the sound of his heart thumping in his chest.

“You dumdum. You’re already amazing. Anybody would consider themselves lucky to be loved by you.”

She felt him freeze up, unsure of what to make of this sudden and almost aggressive display of affection. But a beat later he relaxed, practically melting into her embrace and hugged back just as tightly.

He laid his own head on top of hers, a motion that still felt so comforting and so familiar; and yet she couldn’t figure it out. Whenever she would come close to making a discovery, the thought would slip away, as if by magic.

Or, come to think of it, most likely because of magic. His mannerisms and speech were so familiar, and yet she couldn’t place where she knew them from, or whom they matched up with. Chat had said that they knew each other outside of the costume, so surely that was why they felt so familiar. But the glamour of his miraculous was quite efficient in protecting his identity; therefore, despite teetering at the edge of her recognition, she still could not identify him. She supposed that was for the best, even if it was maddening.

“I wish I could believe that. I really do,” he murmured sadly, interrupting her train of thought.

She nuzzled her head into him. “Stop being so hard on yourself. Life doesn’t revolve around achievements or some arbitrary measurement of greatness. Being you is enough.”

“I... don’t really know how to stop thinking that way, to be honest,” he said with a shrug.

Marinette let go of him and took a small step back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, it’s too bad you don’t have a choice, then. ‘Cause from now on, you’re officially enrolled in the Dupain-Cheng self-esteem boot camp, where you learn to be nice to yourself… or else, I’ll kick your ass!” she said, poking him lightly on the chest.

His eyes popped open for a moment, then he threw his head back and laughed. “I believe it!” he said, squeezing his arms around her once again. “I’ll do my best to meet your expectations and avoid all the ass-kicking, sensei! Bring on Du PAIN!”

She let out a snort and giggled, looking up at him from her lower height.

Her gaze softened once again, then added, “By the way... thanks for your help, and for your advice, Minou.”

Chat chuckled at the term of endearment, and Marinette’s brain froze.

How could she forget?? Again. She wasn’t Ladybug right now. Marinette didn’t have nicknames for Chat.

Before she could backpedal, Chat leaned down to kiss her forehead, then replied, “Anytime, Mari.”

She relaxed again and gave him one last squeeze, unable to contain a giant, satisfied grin.

She released him so she could return to the task of getting ready for school tomorrow. She asked, “Will it really be okay for you to go to school? Won’t it be risky, since your father will know where you are?”

Chat let out a thoughtful hum. “He’s a pretty powerful person, but even he can’t walk into the school and drag me out of there in front of everyone. I should be okay, as long as I’m always around other people.”

“Well… if you say so,” she said, crinkling her eyebrows. “You’ve got my cell phone number, so call me if anything ever pops up and I’ll be there in a jiffy, no matter where you are.”

Chat smiled at her fondly. “Thank you.”

She smiled back. “Come on. Let’s go watch a movie downstairs. It’s our last day to be certified couch potatoes and I’m not gonna pass it up.”

Chat winked. “Aye aye, Captain Spud! Lead the way!”

(Mood music: “The Chairman’s Waltz” - John Williams (Memoirs of a Geisha OST)

Monday Morning

Chat Noir landed on the roof of the school without a sound, eyes darting around the perimeter to verify that no one was present at this hour. Upon seeing that the coast was clear, he slinked towards the door that led inside the building.

He tried the doorknob. Locked, as expected. He detransformed, and without a word, Plagg phased through the door. It clicked, then Adrien slipped inside.

Heart thumping, he shifted his backpack and continued down the rooftop stairwell until he reached a hallway. It was empty, although that didn’t do much for his nerves. Getting caught on campus before the school opened would mean getting asked questions he would rather not have to answer.

Adrien wasn’t a rule-breaker. He was courteous, mild-mannered, and above all, obedient. He did things by the book. Or, at least... he did as Adrien . Chat Noir was another story altogether.

Trying to shake off his jitters, Adrien took a deep breath and tried to summon the playful part of him that enjoyed more mischievous types of activities.

There wasn’t much for him to do for the next couple of hours but to wait until people slowly trickled into the school. He decided to occupy himself by organizing his locker, so he stepped out into the common area from the dark hallway and carefully crept to the locker rooms downstairs.

As it turned out, it was a good thing he checked it before anyone was around, for the loud gasp he let out as he discovered its contents would have surely attracted the attention of the entire room.

Inside the locker was a duffel bag full of belongings– his belongings: his passport and birth certificate, his wallet, some clothes, his favorite blue scarf, a photograph of his mother; school supplies and stationary, a brand new laptop, and an indistinct burner phone.

There was no written note, no card, no name left behind. The only identifier provided was a picture of an black and red butterfly on it.

A butterfly? Surely this couldn’t be a gift from Gabriel Agreste. He’d never be this thoughtful, not in a million years.

He studied the picture, flipping it over for more clues, and found some small text on the back.

“Scarlet Peacock Butterfly”, the caption said. “A vivid red and black butterfly that ostensibly poses as another toxic species in order to deceive predators.”

Adrien gasped.

A fake.

Could it be…?

Adrien’s fingers trembled as he picked up the phone. It was an older model flip phone. He opened it.

It had a single phone number saved in its contacts.

He selected the number, fingertip hovering over the “call” button. With a shaky breath, he pressed it. And waited.

A few agonizingly long seconds passed. Then the ringing stopped; someone had picked up.

Adrien’s breath hitched and he gulped. He couldn’t help the crack in his voice as he whispered hesitantly into the phone.

“...Nathalie?”

(Mood Music: “L’Indifference” - Café Accordion Orchestra)

For once, Marinette Dupain-Cheng managed to make it to school on time, having set her alarm for an earlier time just to make sure. Tardiness always seemed to be her calling card, but she was determined to not let this happen today; not after all her preparations from the night before.

And so she walked into her first class, happy to see a room full of (mostly) friendly faces. Alya smiled at her from her desk across the room, waving her over enthusiastically. Marinette returned the smile and headed towards her.

She gave a wide berth to Lila and their teacher, who stood by the door. The new teacher listened, enraptured, about the stylish Italian girl’s most recent trip to the Malagasy islands and how she single-handedly founded a lemur rescue organization. Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes and quietly passed them by, without challenging the validity of her claims.

Not today, she told herself. Not on the first day of school.

On her way towards her best friend, Marinette also walked past Chloe Bourgeois, her former bully. They made eye contact and gave each other a brief nod.

“Chloe,” Marinette greeted her plainly.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe acknowledged in return, then turned her full attention back to her phone, vigorously texting someone with a dragon profile picture.

Marinette couldn’t quite call Chloe her friend, though they were definitely more than just acquaintances. They’d come to a sort of unspoken truce a couple of years back. They’d both done some growing up these past few years, and for that, Marinette was grateful. Especially since this arrangement made it possible for them to remain mutual friends with Adrien.

Marinette went up the steps to where her best friend sat, and they greeted each other with a hug.

“Hey, Alya! No Nino?”

“Nah, looks like we only have three classes together this year, bummer.” Alya shrugged. “But that means I get to sit next to my Mari-bean!”

Marinette noticed a markedly cheery-looking Adrien entering the classroom, only to be stopped by Lila at the door, who flipped her hair theatrically and batted her exaggeratedly long (and most likely false, hmmph!) eyelashes at him.

She decided to ignore it and turned around to fully face her wavy-haired friend. “So, how was your weekend? Did you and your aforementioned husbando do anything fun?” she asked with a knowing smile.

Alya’s cheeks darkened, but she tried to cover up her blushing by pretending to adjust her hair. “Well, we did get ahold of the new Super Pinguino III. You’ll have to play it sometime and try to beat our high score.”

Marinette giggled. “I dunno, that might be the one game where I’ll never be able to beat you.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” she gave her a wide smile in return. She exclaimed (rather loudly even by her standards), “By the way, Marinette! Your outfit looks AMAZING! Don’t you think so too, Adrien?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she whipped around to realize Adrien was headed their way. Her face felt like she was sticking it inside a furnace, and suddenly she felt quite naked, wanting nothing more than to hide in a dark corner somewhere rather than display the outfit she’d meticulously chosen the night before. What if it was too much? What if she was overdressed? What if everyone could tell she was trying too hard? What if it was way too last-season and not avant-garde enough? Or what if it was too avant-garde and she should have dressed more conservatively?! What if–

Adrien’s eyes met hers and he gave her the brightest, broadest, most radiant smile, so stunning it should be illegal, so resplendent that it caused her brain to suddenly fizzle.

“Absolutely! You look beautiful, Marinette,” he said, his voice so earnest and sincere that Marinette felt she might combust on the spot.

Marinette wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, mouth agape, feeling like her feet were no longer touching the ground, when Alya nudged her with her elbow, coaxing her to reply.

And reply she did. Or at least, she tried; for only for a brief noise somewhere between a croak and a squeak managed to emerge from her throat.

“Uhh, I think Marinette means ‘Thank you,” Alya replied helpfully.

Marinette nodded enthusiastically. “Y-YES!! That’s right!! Th-thank you, Adrien!” she stammered, forcing the air out of her lungs.

Adrien beamed at her. “It’s great to see you guys again. I’m really glad we have our first class together this year. It’ll be a great way to start off the day.”

He waved goodbye to them, then walked to sit at the empty seat next to Chloe, who greeted him with a loud, happy squeal and friendly cheek kisses, then proceeded to talk rapidly about a subject way too complex for Marinette’s current brain-dead state of gleeful stupefaction.

And most definitely too dumbstruck to notice the daggers Lila was glaring at her from across the room.

(Mood Music: “Closer Than Sisters” - Abel Korzeniowski )

Marinette’s mind managed to rejoin her body sometime around halfway through their first period, and the remainder of her classes went by without a hitch. There was a lot of chatter and gossiping about Ladybug and Chat Noir, and whether they were actually working together or if it was some sort of elaborate publicity stunt. Conspiracy theories abounded, but for the most part it was merely curious conjecture. Ladybug had always worked alone, so what would this mean for the city? Would she finally defeat Hawkmoth now that she was no longer outnumbered?

Alya, of course, was utterly buzzing with excitement about these recent developments. Marinette wasn’t quite sure she’d be able to stand all her wild speculations and hypothetical questions; so it was both a shame and a relief that they only had two classes together this school year.

Despite the mental toll that hearing all these conjectures took on her, Marinette was still in high spirits by her last class of the day.

Or so she’d thought, until her absolute favorite classmate made her way over to her desk, giving her a sickly saccharine smile that would put high fructose corn syrup to shame.

“Hi, Marinette,” she lilted in a hollow sing-song voice.

Marinette brought out her phone and pretended to look busy. “Hello, Lila.”

“Did you have a nice summer?” Lila asked.

As if you care, she thought. “It was peachy,” Marinette replied curtly.

Lila pouted. “You don’t sound too happy. I don’t suppose you’ve already heard?”

Marinette sighed. Might as well play along. “Heard what, Lila?”

Lila leaned into her personal space, which made unpleasant goosebumps rise on the back of Marinette’s neck. “Well, I don't suppose you and Adrien are close enough friends that he’s told you all about his secret girlfriend, right?” she said more quietly.

Marinette’s brain screeched to a halt, but she forced herself to keep typing into her phone. “And I suppose he's told you?”

Lila giggled coyly. “Oh, well, I’m not one to blab secrets around, but the poor dear’s just not very good at hiding those hickeys. A scarf and concealer can only do so much, you know.”

Marinette felt sick to her stomach, but she refused to indulge Lila into thinking that she actually believed her.

“Go away, Lila,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Don’t believe me? I can prove it-” she replied, with that false cheerfulness that always carried a secret smugness to it. “-as soon as he walks through the door. He’s told me his schedule, you know… We really are very good friends, he and I.” She lifted her head to look around. “Ah, there he is.”

Adrien walked into the classroom with Kim, joking and laughing together.

Lila waved them over, and Adrien smiled as they both walked towards them.

“Adrien, I was just talking to Marinette about our plans for the school year. What does your modeling schedule look like?” she asked, as she thumbed the fabric of his scarf. “This is the year before we graduate. Is your father going to ease up on the photo shoots? I do so remember how very busy you were last year,” she lamented with another fake pout.

Adrien replied, his voice harboring a tinge of nervousness as she ran her hands up and down the length of his scarf, “Uh, actually, I won’t be- uh, modeling. This year. To… prepare for university exams and whatnot.”

“No modeling gigs, you say? That’s awfully kind of him,” she replied sweetly, as she slowly pulled back and forth on the two sides of the scarf like a seesaw. “Letting you focus on your studies and whatnot.”

Before he could reply, Lila tripped sideways with a dainty yelp, yanking the scarf along with her, and she fell towards him. Adrien caught her and she wrapped her arms around his neck securely, the scarf falling onto the ground, forgotten by all.

All except for Marinette, of course.

“Lila, are you alright?” Kim cried, and Adrien weakly echoed the question.

“Oh… clumsy me… I’m still getting used to these new shoes. I haven’t quite broken them in yet, you see,” she remarked as he helped her up. “I mostly wore combat boots over the summer while helping build schools in Bali for impoverished children, so I guess you could say I’ve gotten out of the habit of wearing heels.”

Marinette got out of her seat to retrieve the fallen blue scarf. The scarf that she had made for him almost four years ago for his birthday. Lila’s tugging had rubbed the fabric against Adrien’s neck, and the center was stained with make-up the same tone as his skin. She gulped heavily, then looked up at him.

And there they were, peppered all over his neck: various small bruises below the sides of his jawline, barely noticeable, but still visible if you looked closely.

“Umm, here,” Marinette said numbly as she handed him back the scarf. His hesitant eyes met hers, and he looked guilty, as if all his secrets had been laid bare for her to see.

“Thank you,” he said, almost too soft for her to hear.

“Why, Adrien!” Lila said, feigning secrecy but still speaking louder than she should have been, had that been the case. “I know you said you didn’t have to model anymore, but you really ought to tell your girlfriend to take it easy when you guys make out.”

Adrien sounded genuinely puzzled. “Wait… Girlfriend? What are you talking about?”

Kim’s features scrunched up in confusion. His eyes traveled towards where Lila was looking, then his face lit up with excitement. “Dude, you got a girlfriend?? That’s amazing, congrats! When were you gonna tell us??”

“Huh? I don’t have–” Adrien tried to interject.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry Adrien,” Lila pretended to realize she’d said too much. “I didn’t know you wanted to keep it a secret. How silly of me! Surely your father would take away your extra free time if he knew you were spending it with a girl instead of studying.”

Kim pumped his arms excitedly. “Don’t worry, bro! We can totally keep a secret! Right, Marinette?”

Marinette smiled weakly, trying her best to look cooperative, and nodded.

“So, tell us about her, Adrien! Tell us about this girl you love so much,” Lila prodded.

Adrien’s cheeks turned bright red. “W-well, she’s not actually my girlfriend, b-but–”

Kim waggled his eyebrows. “But does she want to be?” he asked playfully.

Adrien laughed, voice high and skittish, “Uhh, I-I don’t know… Umm– w-we’ll see what happens. I-I want to take things slow.”

“Do you like her?”

Adrien’s head whipped around. It was Marinette who’d asked the question, her voice soft and curious.

Her eyes searched his, sincerely seeking the knowledge she both yearned and dreaded to hear. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest, knowing that his answer could change everything.

And yet, she needed to know.

Adrien’s face softened, the corners of his mouth crinkling with the ghost of a smile, and his cheeks gained a more subdued shade of pink, which contrasted with the embarrassed shade of red he’d worn earlier.

“A lot,” he replied breathily, like a wistful sigh, like he’d rather be with his loved one than anywhere else in the world.

Marinette swallowed heavily, and she forced herself to smile. “I’m happy for you,” she said as earnestly as she could manage.

After all, Adrien’s happiness was always paramount. No matter the source.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the bell, and the group scattered into the surrounding seats. Lila gave Marinette one last self-satisfied smile before walking away; not that Marinette even noticed. Her body felt too numb, too limp, too weary to see or care. All she could see in her mind’s eye was the way Adrien’s eyes lit up when he talked about the person he cared for. It had been brief, but it had been enough. She’d seen it. She knew now.

Adrien Agreste was in love.

(Mood Music: “No One Knows Who I Am” - (Jekyll & Hyde, the musical) Frank Wildhorn)

The last period of the day went by more sluggishly than any other she’d ever experienced in her life. Marinette’s mind replayed that conversation a seemingly infinite amount of times by the time the bell rang and it was time to go home. She lethargically packed up her belongings and left the classroom.

Before she reached the locker room, however, a hand gently tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around.

It was Adrien. Of course. It just had to be him.

He meekly asked if he could talk to her in private. She agreed. They stepped into an emptied room, and he looked around to make sure no one else was present.

“I’m… sorry about the awkwardness from before, Mari,” he muttered uneasily.

“It’s okay, I’m just sorry you got put on the spot,” she replied, twisting her hands together, her shoulders tense with discomfort.

He seemed to squirm a bit himself as he continued, “D-did… Did you see…?” He gestured towards his scarf.

Marinette froze and her gaze dropped to the ground. She couldn’t get herself to speak, so she nodded.

Adrien took a deep breath. “W-would it be too much trouble if I asked you to not tell anyone? Things could get really difficult for me if- if people were to find out.”

Marinette’s head bobbed up and down quickly. “I-it’s okay! I won’t say anything! I-I don’t want to get you into trouble. Anytime you need help, I’ll be here.”

Before she knew it, she was being pulled into a brief hug. She willed her arms to hug him back, although she couldn’t really feel her body right now.

Adrien let go of her and put his hands on her shoulders in reassurance. “I promise everything is going to be okay. Everything is fine now. Trust me. Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette’s mouth smiled back, and she heard her own voice say, “Anytime.”

Adrien thanked her again, and opened the door to leave. “See ya tomorrow.”

“S-see you,” she called back.

The door closed behind him, and Marinette was left alone. Everything felt like it was steeped in a thick haze. As if she was stranded in a vast fog with no discernable way to go. She felt hollow, yet heavy, which didn’t make a single bit of sense. A gaping, empty hole where her chest was, ripped away suddenly and without warning.

Is this... is this what heartbreak feels like?

Chat landed on Marinette’s balcony and knocked on the hatch five times, as they’d previously agreed. He listened for any of the code phrases or sounds that they’d gone over and practiced. There was no answer, which could only mean that she wasn’t home yet. However, since the latch was always unlocked for him now that they were roommates, he had permission to enter.

He felt pretty silly wearing a backpack as Chat Noir, so he didn’t dally in her bedroom, and instead went to drop it off in his own room.

Chat wondered what could be going through Marinette’s head after she saw his bruising. Had she figured out that Gabriel was abusive? She’d agreed to trust him, so maybe she believed he’d been able to work out his home situation. Did she think he still lived back at the mansion?

He plopped face down on the sofa. UGH, this all sucked. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he couldn’t tell her the truth, either. She was the nicest girl, and all he’d been doing lately was be dishonest with her. Not without reason, but still. He felt horrible about it.

And she’d looked so out of it at the end of school. He wondered what might have happened to her, since she’d seemed in such high spirits at the beginning of the school day. And what was that weirdness with Lila all about?

He didn’t have to wonder long, because a few moments later, his cat ears perked up as he heard footsteps that led to the front door. He sat up and turned around, excitedly awaiting her arrival.

Marinette opened the door and entered the living area. She closed the door and silently set her backpack down. He got up to greet her, but something was wrong. Her whole aura was different. Even in the dim late afternoon light, Chat could see the weariness in her expression, the sadness in her posture.

“Mari…?”

Several long strides later and he was there, in front of her, holding her by the arms.

“Mari, what happened?!” he asked more urgently. “Are you okay??”

She looked up at him, her glassy blue eyes becoming damp. Then she crashed into him, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping her from sinking into a sea of quicksand.

She cried, and he held her. He was desperate to know what had happened, but he waited, stroking her hair, running his fingers through it soothingly, not pushing her, but always willing to listen.

Finally, after a few moments, she spoke. “There’s someone else,” she whispered simply.

Then he understood.

Chat held her, and she sobbed quietly, and together they slumped to the ground. She didn’t need words of comfort, or any reassurance that she didn’t need this guy, or to be told that she was too good for him, or that there were other fish in the sea. She didn’t need to be told any of those things. All they needed at this moment was each other. And that was enough.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Discordant Sonata #fanfiction #Eden writes #Marichat #Adrienette #Ladynoir

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jawritter · 5 years ago

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Broken Me...

Ch. 8

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, grinding, dry humping, language, description of nightmare.. I think that’s it..

Word Count: 1908

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

Time jump to Sunday night. The last night in the hotel for the con.

Sitting alone in the hotel room that you had Jensen had been sharing for the rest of this con, waiting for Jensen to finish up with some last minute photo ops, the last thing he had to do for this con, and man you were glad it was almost over…

They had to break earlier today from when the actual photo op was scheduled due to the AC not working in the room they had set up in to take the photos.. It wasn't really that big of a deal. It was only like 60 people that were left to get their photos.

It was the panels today that were brutal.

Y/F/N and Yourself sat and watched helplessly as fans nailed Jensen with questions after questions about his and your relationship. Apparently someone had taken a picture of the two of you after the panels ended last night…

One picture, that was all it took… Now word was already spreading that you were the other woman…

Jensen took it in stride though, seemingly unbothered boy opinions and curiosity concerning you, and denying that the two of you were together before Danneel and himself separated. He didn’t bother to deny that you were somewhat together though, and you didn’t know who you felt about that really...

Y/f/n left after the panel was over with Alex. Since the con was technically over, and you both live in Dallas, she just decided to go on back and get settled into her new place with Alex. You hugged her, and told her you would call when Jensen and yourself arrived back at your appointment Monday, and that you would set up a lunch date soon..

By the time Jensen stumbled through the hotel door he was slightly intoxicated, and extremely exhausted.

They were taking their "apple juice" shots during the last panel. Losing a game with Misha had nearly finished him off, much to Misha delight, and everyone else’s amusement..

Once he was showeres he stumbled to the bed falling asleep almost immediately. You took the chance to finish packing the rest of your things, and then grab a shower before bed.

You stood in the shower letting the hot water beat away the stress of the day as well as the stress of things that were surely to come.

There was still a lot of unknown in whatever this 'relationship' was between Jensen and yourself. There was just a lot to work out in general on your part. As far as Jensen. He had to basically put his whole life back together. Which wouldn’t be easy by any means.. So you definitely had a lot to think about..

Stepping out of the shower you were towel drying your hair when you could hear strange sounds come from the bedroom.

Throwing the door open you find Jensen tossing and turning. Sweat forming on his forehead as he fought against something you couldn't see in his sleep. The nightmare he was having must have been a rough one. He was starting to yell by the time you got to his side. Shaking him awake.

"JENSEN!! WAKE UP!!" You yell at him, and he sits straight up in the bed. Panting like he'd ran a race.

"Hey handsome you okay?" You asked him. his eyes wide as he scanned the room.

"Yeah......just a nightmare." He said in almost a whisper. Shaking as he layed back down, closing his eyes up tight as if he could make the images that were lingering from his dream disappear.

"Wanna talk about it?" You asked, sliding under the covers with him. Jensen automatically reaches for you to lay in his shoulder.

"Not really." He said quietly. His voice was full of tension. You traced little circles across his chest with your finger connecting the freckles in random patterns as his breathing evened out to normal, and his body relaxed against yours..

You were just gonna let the subject drop. It was well after midnight and the two of you needed sleep. You had to leave in the morning, and Jensen wanted to leave early before people got up and moved around the hotel. You didn't want to push him to talk about anything he wasn’t comfortable with..

You slept very little that night. Jensen tossed and turned most of the night. You wished he trusted you enough to open up to you, but then again, you'd only known each other for three days. So you weren’t about to ask him again when he already said he didn’t want to talk about it..

You laid there. Staring at the ceiling the majority of the night. Wonder how this is gonna work. Praying he wouldn't one day just leave and never come back.

This was the risk you agreed to take. You knew he had A LOT to work through. You knew this wouldn't be easy. You also knew you couldn't make yourself stay away from him. There was something in you so drawn to him. All you knew is that you need to be with him. If he decides to leave it's gonna hurt like hell.

You felt Jensen shift his weight next to you again. You rolled over to check him for what seems like the thousandth time in an hour, to see him staring at you.

"Hey babe." Voice thick with sleep, and his brighter than they were when he’d woken up from his nightmare.

"Hey." You tell him, reaching up running your hands through his hair. "You didn't sleep much."

Pulling you closer Jensen nuzzled his faces in closer to you...

"No. Stress got to me last night. I let Danneel get in my head. She texted me and said that my kids would be calling another man Daddy soon. It got to me worse than I thought. All night I dreamed I could hear my kids screaming. The house was filled with smoke, I searched everywhere, but I couldn't find them......"

You were relieved that he trusted you enough to talk to you about what was bothering him, but helpless to know what to do about it..

Almost reading your mind Jensen pulls your face close to his. Resting your forehead against his for a moment before bringing his lips to yours. Kissing you deeper than he ever had. Tangling his fingers into your hair. Pressing his lips closer to yours, running his tongue lightly along your bottom lip. Begging for entrance, and honestly, how could you tell him no.

His strong arms wrap tighter around you as he runs his callous hand down to your hips. Pressing your hips closer to him. You could feel his growing erection against your thigh. Causing you to gasp. You could tell even through his running shorts and boxers the man was huge.

Jensen moved slowly from your lips to just under your jaw line. Kissing and nipping is way up to the sensitive skin behind your ear. Causing your breath to hitch in your throat as he ground his bulge against your aching core.

You couldn’t help but moan into his kiss as he worked himself against you, over and over, pressing too much pressure, then suddenly not enough...

Sliding his hand from your lower back to the back of your thigh your body was heating up in response to his touch quickly as he continued to grind himself against your center until he was panting against your lips. Building you up higher and higher before quickly pulling away to slide your pj shorts, and black panties down in one pull, and you kick them off the rest of the way. Jensen quickly sheds his own shorts and boxers as well.

Reaching around you pulls your leg over his waist. Pressing his throbbing length against you. Teasing you, but not yet gaining entrance.

“Fuck I wasn’t planning on doing this so soon, but I need you.” He said, breathing hard against your neck, holding himself back, waiting for you to tell him it was okay…

Your hands tighten on his shoulders as he runs his swollen tip through your dripping folds again, putting just enough friction to drive you crazy, but not fully satisfy you.

“Please Jensen.” You whined, your back arching your further into his chest. That was all the permission he needed...

In one swift movement he pulls your shirt over your head. Breaking from your lips only long enough to remove your shirt. Throwing it across the room hitting the wall. His already shirtless torso heaving with deep heavy breaths. His eyes darkened with lust. His kisses become rougher and impatient with need. Moaning against your lips as his gentle slid just the tip of his rock hard length into your soaking core. Causing a deep gasp to escape from your lips.

"Fuck baby girl your tight. I'm gonna have to go really slow." He said in a voice you could barely recognize. Bringing his lips back to yours before you could even respond to him.

He expertly unclasped your bra, throwing it against the same wall your shirt had hit. Working his way down your collar bone. One hand still firmly placed on your lower back while the other hand explored your breast.

Everywhere he touched was like pouring gasoline into a fire, burning higher and hotter against your skin until you were both a moaning mess..

Slowly yet firmly he began to slide the tip of his throbbing length in and out of you. Pushing more of himself into you with each thrust of his hips until he was seated completely inside of you.

He paused for a moment. Not moving. Giving you time to adjust to his sheer size. He was definitely bigger than any man you'd ever been with.

"You okay." He asked, in a husky carnel voice.

You nodded at him and experimentally rolled your hips against his, pulling an almost inhuman growl from his chest..

Pressing his full weight on top of you he began to slowly thrust in and out of you. Keeping your bodies pressed as close together as possible. His every thrust hitting your most sensitive places deep inside of you. His body rubbed against yours as his hands explored you, and worshiped your body.

You had never had a more sensual, intimate, experience. Keeping your bodies connected and wrapped around each other. Literally making your bodies feel like they had become one.

Jensen's thrust became harder. Breathing out a small moan every time he pounds into you. You run your nails lightly from the top of his hairline to his lower back. Pulling a louder moan from his throat. His pace increased as his thrust became more sloppy and out of rhythm. You could feel your own end building in your belly. Spread through you as your walls quivered around him.

"Babe I can't last much longer."

You didn’t even have time to respond as your walls clamped down around him. Pulling you over the edge you feel him spill deep inside you both of you riding out your high with a loud strangled moan.

Jensen rolled you both over to your sides. Still seated deep inside you. Unwilling to break your connection. Both of you dosing back off for at least another hour of the most peaceful sleep either of you had all night.

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#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles series #jensen x reader #jensen x you #hurt!jensen #hurt!comfort fic #x reader inserts #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #jawritter

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

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Lukadrien: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Eleven

Read it on AO3: Among the Wild Things: Chapter Eleven: Confrontation

The royal mausoleum was dim and a little dank; the solid stone walls and the flickering torches did little to keep out the dark chill of death.

Adrien led the way down into the crypt where the kings and queens of the past slept underneath the floor tiles and life-size statues in niches along the walls were the chief markers of which tenants rested where.

Luka found himself more than a little unsettled. He was just waiting for one of the statues to move, and he could swear he felt their eyes on him.

Adrien, however, made his way through the tomb seemingly unbothered by the images of his deceased forebearers. He also appeared to know exactly where he was going, quickly heading to the end of the row.

Luka guessed that Adrien had been to visit his mother many times over the years and was well accustomed to the place.

“Maman,” Adrien breathed, voice filled with emotion as he went up to the statue of a lovely young woman posed seated on a stone bench. She smiled tranquilly, her sightless eyes giving off a dreamy quality.

Adrien sank to his knees at her feet, placing his hand on top of her folded ones and resting his head in her lap.

“I missed you,” he whimpered. “It was so hard not even having a picture of you. I was afraid I was going to forget your face just like I’m forgetting your voice.”

Luka bit his lip, tempted to go kneel beside Adrien and wrap his arms around his mate to hold him together. At the same time, though, he didn’t want to interrupt the clearly personal moment.

Before Luka could decide, Adrien regained his composure and rose to his feet, turning his attention to the statue standing behind his mother’s with his hand possessively resting on her shoulder.

Luka had no trouble recognizing King Gabriel from the portrait Adrien had pulled out of the desk drawer in his mother’s room the night before. Surprisingly, Gabriel’s statue didn’t look new. It showed the same wear and weathering as his wife’s, indicating that the King had probably ordered the two made as a pair when the Queen had died.

“Father,” Adrien levelly addressed Gabriel’s imposing image as it scowled severely in judgment. “…I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye…. I’ve regretted that, but you made me feel trapped, so I didn’t think I had the option. I had to escape while I could without looking back. I hope you can at least appreciate the decisiveness of my actions.”

Predictably, Gabriel made no reply.

Adrien took a step back with a sigh, now addressing both parents as he continued, “I’m sorry that I was never really the son you’d hoped for. I’m sorry for all the disappointments.”

He then turned to look at Luka, holding out his hand for his husband to come take.

Luka swiftly answered the entreaty, coming to stand by his mate’s side, holding his hand as they presented a united front.

“I think you two always knew I wasn’t interested in women,” Adrien snorted softly. “Maybe you knew even before I did and that’s why you always said disparaging things about people who experience homosexual attraction. Maybe you thought it was some kind of choice I could un-make or an urge I could fight if I were strong enough…but it’s not.”

Luka inched in closer so that his shoulder pressed supportively against Adrien’s.

“I tried,” Adrien pleaded, his voice strained by building tears. “I tried really hard to be the son and heir you wanted. I just couldn’t make myself, quote-unquote, ‘normal’…and I’ve learned now in the past six months that that illusory ‘normal’ doesn’t exist. I don’t have to fix myself,” Adrien asserted, the tears leaving his voice to be replaced by strength and conviction.

“There’s nothing wrong with me that needs fixing. It’s okay to be gay. It’s actually something really beautiful and special…something that makes me me,” he tried to explain as a sad-but-daring-to-hope smile shyly tilted up the corners of his lips. “And I’ve found someone who loves and treasures me just the way I am.”

He nervously smiled at Luka before looking back to his parents’ statues. “Maman, Father…this is Luc…my husband.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesties,” Luka greeted, crossing his left arm over his chest and inclining forward into a slight bow, not really sure what the protocol was for meeting deceased royal in-laws.

“Maman, you would have loved him,” Adrien insisted excitedly, but then his expression sobered, and he amended, tempering his remark, “…at least…I’m sure you would have loved him if you could see past him being fae and married to your son.”

Luka squeezed Adrien’s hand, signaling that he was right there beside Adrien no matter what.

“I hope you would have eventually seen past all that,” Adrien added softly. “He takes good care of me, Maman. He’s a good person, and his love and support help me get a little closer to my full potential and being the person I want to be,” he testified, praying that his assurances would have been enough if she’d still been living.

“I have the kind of love you told me fairy stories about, Maman,” he informed her pleadingly. “Please don’t despise me just because I couldn’t find that kind of happiness with a mortal woman.”

Next, Adrien turned back to his father, a wry smile sliding into place on his lips as he chuckled, “Sometimes you did things that made me think, ‘See? He really does love me after all’. …I know you would never approve of this marriage,” he admitted with a melancholy shake of his head, “but there’s a part of me that hopes that my happiness with a fae man wouldn’t kill that little spark of affection you felt for me.”

With a tearful choke, Adrien retreated into Luka’s arms, burying his face in his mate’s chest. “I guess we’ll never know, though.”

Luka shook his head in disagreement, insisting, “They would have come around. Maybe they would have resented me for a while, and I’m sure they wouldn’t have approved of our union, but, after some time passed, they would see how happy we are together. They wouldn’t be able to begrudge a marriage that made their son happy.”

“I think you’re a bit too naïve, My Love,” Adrien sighed, but Luka’s assertions did make the tears stop. “My world can be cruel and uncaring.”

“Yes, but I refuse to believe that any parents who managed to produce a sweet, compassionate, loving person like you could reject their son because of who he loves,” Luka continued to fight Adrien’s assumptions.

“…Maybe.” Adrien finally allowed the possibility to germinated and take root in his mind. “Maybe they would come around after a while.”

“You’d win them over eventually,” Luka assured, squeezing his beloved tightly, happy to see Adrien through all the ups and downs that came with facing the demons of the life he’d left behind.

Once Adrien regained his composure and bade his goodbyes to his parents, they headed back to the Queen’s chambers where they found Alya and Nino waiting for them, making themselves comfortable in the sitting area of the room on the settee.

“Dri!” Alya trilled in delight when she saw him, scrambling to her feet and dashing across the room to envelope him in a hug that knocked the air out of his lungs.

“It’s good to see you, Alya,” Adrien chuckled as best as he could without the benefit of oxygen. “Thank you for coming.”

She pulled back so that she was at arms’ length, holding him by the biceps to study him better. “Sunshine, you never told me you were the crown prince of the Kingdom of Agreste!” she accused.

Adrien shrugged and gave a sheepish smile. “I mean…you knew I was a prince. I told you that.”

She rolled her hazel eyes and snorted impatiently. “Yeah, but you took Luc for your mate—no offence.”

Luka smiled wryly, lifting and lowering his eyebrows in a manner that clearly stated that he was used to this kind of abuse and didn’t take it to heart.

“I thought you were the prince of some backwater, no-name kingdom,” Alya explained, “but here it turns out that you’re, like, the prince!”

“Technically, he’s the king now,” Luka pointed out helpfully.

A blush of embarrassment sparked to life on Alya’s cheeks, and her lips rounded into an “O” as she remembered the whole reason Adrien had come to the palace in the first place.

“I’m really sorry about your father, by the way,” she offered sheepishly, suddenly feeling bad for the way she’d been gossiping just the day before about the news of King Gabriel’s death and what the kingdom was going to do what with their prince missing.

She remembered the way she’d caught wind of the Queen’s death six years prior and had spent a prodigious amount of time and energy feeding on the conspiracy theories surrounding it. All at once, she felt ill because she’d treated her dear friend’s tragedy as a form of entertainment.

“I’m really sorry, Dri,” she repeated it earnestly, knowing as she squeezed his arm in support that she could never make any of it up to him.

Adrien nodded, looking down at the floor as he whispered a tired, “Thank you.”

Luka and Nino were at his side at once, resting comforting hands on shoulders and giving his hair loving tussles.

A thin smile spread across Adrien’s lips, and he looked back up at Alya with a deep weariness in his eyes. “It’s been difficult, but I’m making it through somehow. Having Luc by my side has been a blessing.”

Alya nodded, feeling awkward and, for once, unsure of what to say.

“But let’s focus on happier things, shall we?” Adrien forced himself to smile wider, trying to inject an air of levity into the conversation. “Did you hear about the wedding and the coronation scheduled for this evening?”

Alya’s eyes lit up, and she latched onto the new topic with unfeigned enthusiasm. “Oh, yes! I was just pumping Nino for information when you came in. It sounds so exciting! The pomp and the ceremony and the big feast afterwards!” She gave a vulpine bark of delight. “I wish I could see it all for myself. I’ve always dreamed of human celebrations like this.”

“You can come,” Adrien informed with a shrug that suggested it was as nothing for him to make her wildest, most cherished dreams come true.

“Really?” She almost stopped breathing.

Adrien nodded and shrugged again. “I’m king. If I say you can come, you can come, and if anyone has a problem with that, they can get over it because my word is literally law,” he assured, taking a heady pleasure in his newfound control. “…I mean, until I can foist the leadership of this kingdom upon someone else, but…”

“I would literally die of happiness,” Alya whined, near tears as she squirmed in excitement.

“Nino will have to chaperon you,” Adrien laid out the conditions.

“I can do that,” Nino gladly volunteered, looking forward to having more time to chat with the interesting fae woman.

“Just for safety,” Adrien explained. “My subjects can be a little…backward…when it comes to issues of embracing diversity. Some of them might be a bit uncomfortable if they knew you were a fox spirit, so I think it’s best if you stay close to Nino so he can help you out and keep you safe.”

“No complaints here!” Alya assured chipperly.

“And we’ll have to see about getting you a suitable dress for the event so that you fit in,” Adrien continued, voicing items of concern as they came to mind. “Nino, could you take her to see Marinette about that?”

Nino gave a snort, shaking his head as he grinned. “Marinette is going to kill you.”

Adrien waved away Nino’s assertion. “Marinette won’t kill me. Marinette loves me. She’s got at least twenty dresses just sitting around that she could make some quick adjustments to for Alya.”

“Marinette is going to kill you,” Luka snickered, imagining the seamstress’s face when Nino arrived with the request from the young king, her eyes bloodshot from working through the night on the coronation/wedding outfits. “She’s going to be livid.”

“It’ll be fine,” Adrien insisted, unconcerned. “I have faith in the supernatural abilities of my Royal Court Seamstress. There’s a reason she’s the youngest person ever to hold the title.”

“There will be shrieking,” Nino chuckled. “She’s going to take me by the shoulders and throttle me in your place.”

“You’ll survive,” Adrien promised with a wink, going over to where the decadent breakfast Alya had brought was spread out on the coffee table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m starving.”

“You’re going to be able to hear the shrieking all the way in town. People are going to think a demon has descended upon the land,” Nino muttered resignedly.

“They already think that about me,” Luka hummed as he followed Adrien over to the sitting area.

Alya arched an eyebrow in confusion. “How could they confuse you with an oni? Have they never seen one before? Don’t they have picture books? Didn’t you tell them you’re a kelpie?”

By the time Adrien and Luka returned from their morning out and sat down to breakfast, the rest of the castle inhabitants were starting to get up and move about, getting on with their day.

Nathalie soon appeared to give them their first briefing of the day, and then it was a flurry of servants and advisors coming in and out, checking about this, asking about that, all working together (or at odds with one another) to prepare for the day’s events.

It reminded Luka of watching his mother in action at a town hall where everyone gathered to make their concerns and desires known. It boggled Luka’s mind how many different decisions Adrien had to make, how many people’s concerns he had to deal with, all the orders there were to give.

Luka wondered if the daily life of a king was always like that or if it were just because of the last-minute nature of the wedding-slash-coronation.

Everyone seemed to be in a rush, and everyone was vying for Adrien’s time and attention.

“I hate you,” Marinette announced as she came in just after noon for a fitting.

“You love me,” Adrien corrected, encircling her in a warm hug.

“No, I really think I hate you,” Marinette snorted, even as she squeezed him back. “I love Alya, however, so I’m definitely keeping her. I’m not so sure about you.”

“Were you able to find a dress that could be modified for her?” Adrien inquired as they pulled apart and Marinette went to the rack she had brought in to get the garments for Luka and Adrien to try on.

“Yes, I actually have a gorgeous orange dress that’s going to look ravishing on her. I did the measurements and marked it up for alterations. Manon’s working on it now,” Marinette informed.

“Nino’s going to faint when he sees her,” Luka hummed happily. He had been pleased with the chemistry between them that he had witnessed during breakfast, and he had high expectations for Alya in formalwear.

“Are you shipping them now?” Adrien snickered as he accepted the garment bag from Marinette.

“Nino is a good man; he deserves happiness, and I think Alya could be a good fit,” Luka replied with an innocent shrug, as if he weren’t actively scheming to get them together.

“I’m in favor of this pairing,” Marinette reported. “Nino’s been a mopey mess since you’ve been gone, leaving him with no one to moon over. If you’re going to be going back home to the fair folk before long, it would be nice if he had someone to take a romantic interest in so that he didn’t feel so lonely.”

“Yeah,” Adrien sighed, feeling guilty. “It would be nice if he had someone. I don’t want him to feel left out, especially now that both of us are going to have partners.”

“He’ll find the right person in time,” Marinette tried to assure with an encouraging smile. “Nino is a great guy; he’s bound to find love…so go on and try your suit out, and don’t worry so much about Nino.”

Adrien nodded, going behind the screen to change.

Luka nearly overheated when Adrien came out wearing a three-piece suit. The jacket was a long, royal blue tailcoat with striking silver embroidery tastefully done down the front of the jacket and around the sleeves. White pants and an ascot completed the look, and, as much as Luka loved his husband in his everyday clothes, Luka found that expensive clothing really suited Adrien.

“I think he’s speechless,” Adrien chuckled, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up. “Excellent job, Marinette.”

“I don’t know if I can really take the credit,” Marinette snickered. “My suit wouldn’t be half as stunning if you weren’t smoking hot.”

“True,” Adrien laughed, giving a spin to make the coattails fan out.

Luka gulped.

“All right.” Marinette gave Luka a clap on the back as she pushed a second garment bag into Luka’s arms. “Your turn, if you think you can walk.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Luka cleared his throat and held the garment bag in front of himself to preserve his modesty as he slunk uncomfortably across the room to the changing screen.

His own outfit was nearly identical to Adrien’s saving for the colour scheme which was inversed. Luka’s jacket and vest were white while his pants, ascot, and the embroidery on his jacket were a beautiful blue to match Adrien.

“If you need help putting anything on, just ask,” Marinette called out helpfully. “I’ve dressed plenty of people in my line of work, so you won’t scandalize me or anything. Most nobles have people who dress them, so it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m good, but thank you very much,” Luka assured as he fought a little with the innumerable buttons.

When he was content that he looked presentable, he stepped out from behind the screen and was more than satisfied with the effect his appearance had on his mate.

Adrien’s eyes dilated, and his mouth dropped open slightly as a hearty blush spread across the bridge of his nose from one cheek to the other.

Luka zeroed in on Adrien’s throat as he swallowed hard.

“Marinette, if you don’t mind, I think I need half an hour alone with my husband to discuss important marriage stuff,” Adrien informed as he strode across the room, grabbed Luka, and dipped him into a hungry kiss.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Marinette protested with an exasperated huff, watching futilely as Adrien pulled Luka back up only to escort him over to the bed (stealing breathy kisses the whole way) and push Luka down onto it.

“Adrien, I swear, if you harm so much as a button on those outfits, I will assassinate you myself,” she growled, lamenting the fact that she had done too good of a job making both grooms look incredibly handsome.

“I love you, Marinette, but get out,” Adrien hummed happily. “That’s an order.”

Stewing and clenching her fists and jaw, Marinette stormed towards the exit, threatening over her shoulder, “Don’t you dare rip his clothes off with your teeth, Adrien! I will kill you. Take them off like civilized people and hang them up on the rack in their bags. Then copulate like bunnies. I don’t care, but don’t you dare—”

Marinette nearly got hit by the door as Nathalie entered the room.

“—Oh! Lady Sancoeur! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there.” Marinette hastened to curtsy.

Adrien rolled off of Luka with a startled yelp, looking very much like a chastened schoolboy caught by his mother.

“…Am I interrupting?” Nathalie inquired blandly, her eyebrow arching upwards.

“Marinette was just making sure our clothes fit for the ceremony,” Adrien explained sheepishly.

Luka—who had been inoculated to this brand of embarrassment by being walked in on by or walking in himself on his mother, Rose, and Juleka—tried to stifle his laughter and an amused grin with varying degrees of success.

Adrien was adorable as he blushed and fidgeted nervously.

Luka leaned in and pressed a comforting kiss to his temple. “Everything seems to fit wonderfully, so we were just about to change back into our regular clothes until it gets closer to time for the ceremony,” Luka added to lend Adrien’s story credibility. “Marinette is truly amazing to have completed such a daunting task so quickly and so well. I’m extremely impressed.”

“Oh, well,” Marinette laughed bashfully, breaking out into a wide grin of pleasure at his lavish praises. “I couldn’t have done it without the help of my team. I’m very lucky to work with many talented people I can trust implicitly.”

“And we’re very lucky to have you to lead them,” Nathalie added, nodding her approval (a rare commodity).

Then, Nathalie was back to business, getting to the point. “The rings have just arrived from the jeweler, and we need to make sure they fit and meet with your approval so that there’s enough time to make corrections, if there are issues.”

“Oh. Right,” Adrien responded as one coming out of a reverie. He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips as he got up and came over to inspect the rings which Nathalie had fished out of little satin bags.

“Sorry. I know we talked about getting rings for the ceremony this morning, but…” He nervously began to twist the ring Luka had made for him around his finger.

It didn’t feel right to replace it or even to take it off. His subjects might not consider the ceremony that Anarka had officiated at or the private rituals Luka and Adrien had exchanged in their room that first day they committed themselves to one another to be legitimate or legally binding, but Adrien did.

The makeshift ring Luka had placed on Adrien’s finger that day was a real wedding ring to him, and it felt wrong to renounce it like this.

Luka came up behind Adrien, wrapping his arms around him to give him a supportive squeeze. “It’s okay, My Love,” he assured, gingerly taking Adrien’s hand and slipping off the ring, moving it over to the ring finger of Adrien’s right hand. “It doesn’t really matter which finger it’s on, does it? Isn’t the important thing that I put it there?”

Adrien hummed thoughtfully, studying the effect of this new placement.

“…Yeah,” he finally sighed, nodding decisively. “I guess you’re right, but this is only for the ceremony. Tonight, we’re switching them back. My real wedding ring gets pride of place.”

“As you wish,” Luka easily agreed, letting Adrien switch Luka’s ring from his left hand to his right as well so that they could try on the new rings.

Luka reached out for the one that Nathalie indicated was Adrien’s but then stopped, looking uncertainly at the advisor. “I remembered to tell you about my iron allergy…right?”

Nathalie gave him the vaguest hint of a smile as she assured, “You did, and I triple checked with the jeweler, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you.” Luka smiled nervously as he hesitantly picked up the ring, poking it with the tip of one finger first to test it before taking hold of it with confidence.

Both of the rings fit comfortably, and the fitting ended without incident.

Marinette finished inspecting both outfits and identified small details that could be improved while Nathalie gave the boys what felt like their dozenth briefing of the day.

Even after Nathalie and Marinette were both satisfied and left, that didn’t end the whirlwind of people coming in and out of the Queen’s chambers, needing Adrien’s approval or input on this or that.

Luka felt like he barely had time to breathe as the day quickly slipped away and, suddenly, it was time for the ceremony.

#Lukadrien #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Luka Couffaine #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Césaire #Gabriel Agreste #Émilie Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Hurt/Comfort #Found Family #Fluff #Mikau's Writings #Among the Wild Things

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skygirl5 · 4 years ago

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12 Prompts of Christmas - #9 Eggnog

This is a continuation of the previous chapter’s universe (behind the jump due to length)

NINE - Eggnog

On his first morning waking up in the isolated cabin, Rick wished to sleep late, but he couldn’t because he woke up before dawn absolutely, positively freezing. His normal sleeping attire for winter was boxers and a t-shirt because he generally kept his apartment fairly warm. He’d thought the blankets on the cabin’s bed would keep him warm enough, but evidently that was not the case; all his extremities felt like ice. Rick shivered so bad he could hardly pull on his jeans and button-down from the prior day before hobbling to the potbelly stove in the main room of the cabin and fiddling with it for ten minutes before he could figure out how to get a fire going inside of it once more.

Knowing warmth would soon come, Rick grabbed a blanket and tried to lay on the couch, which was the closest place to the stove on which to lay, but he was too miserably cold to fall back to sleep. Figuring maybe an afternoon nap would be more productive, he made coffee and sat with it cradled in his hand while wearing a blanket as a cape as he tried to warm up.

Though it took an hour, the cabin soon almost became too warm, but given how cold he had been Rick chose not to mind that too much and did his best to get some writing done. He wrote a few pages, but soon found it difficult to focus, and decided to go on a walk around the lake for a distraction. He also thought perhaps he might run into Kate, the intriguing woman whose mitten he found the day before, but he sadly did not. He did bump into an older couple who had a very friendly yellow lab and chatted with them for about ten minutes, but that was all the human interaction he had.

Back in his cabin, he called Alexis once it was a reasonable hour on the west coast. Unfortunately, their conversation was quite jumbled due to very poor reception, but he was at least able to confirm that Meredith had picked her up from the airport and was taking her shopping that day.

Since speaking with his daughter reminded him once again that she was not going to be with him for Christmas, Rick distracted himself by eating the pre-made salad he’d purchased for lunch and turned back to his writing, which was actually successful that round. He found himself so “in the zone” that he didn’t even notice how late it was getting until he got out of his chair to go to the bathroom and realized most of the cabin was completely dark.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d done, Rick decided it was time to make himself dinner. He’d purchased some chicken cutlets which he planned on stir-frying and with some vegetables he purchased and so he began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for the tools he’d need. He found a cast iron skillet and cutting board to use to prep his food. He’d purchased oil just in case the cabin didn’t have any, which ended up being a good call because he didn’t find any in the small pantry.

After pouring the oil into the skillet, he set it on the two burner stove so that it could heat up, but when he turned the knob to ignite the burner, he heard a click, but no flames appeared. Twisting his lips to the side in concentration, he crouched down and proceeded to fiddle with the knobs and burner for several more minutes to no avail; he could not get the stove to turn on.

Not too worried at that point, Rick decided that the best thing to do would be to call the cabin’s owner, Chip. He was a friendly older gentleman who had talked to Rick for nearly an hour when the cabin booking was made. Evidently the cabin belonged to Chip’s father, who was an avid fisherman. After his father passed, Chip inherited the place, but didn’t enjoy fishing as much, so he mostly rented it out. He’d told Rick not to hesitate to call if an issue arose, and Rick decided to do just that—even though it was technically Christmas Eve.

Rick walked over to where he’d left his laptop at the table. There, he’d left his phone as well as the contact information for Chip. Before he’d even begun to dial, Rick frustratingly realized his phone displayed a “No Signal” error. It hadn’t been that long since he’d spoken to Alexis, though admittedly the call had been cutting in and out at that time.

Figuring the reception had to be better outside, he put on his heavy coat and then dialed Chips number on the phone but didn’t hit the “send” button. Then, he stepped outside the cabin and was immediately knocked back by a wall of bone-chilling cold. The stinging temperature of the air was so great that he actually yelped, but then tried to recover as quickly as he could so he could get his phone call over with. Rick wandered around the area in front of the cabin for several minutes with his phone above his head waiting for the “No Signal” to vanish and bars to appear, but they never did.

Frustrated, Rick stomped out further into the yard, chasing an elusive signal. Just one bar!! He only needed one bar!!

He was about fifteen feet away from the house when he realized that small snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky above. He glanced up briefly, but that far after dusk it was almost pitch black outside. He was stumbling around only from the ambient light of the cabin’s exterior lighting, which at that distance was minimal at best. Yet, Rick remained determined to get a cell signal.

“Uhh Rick? Are you okay?” Rick heard after about seven minutes of wanting around in the freezing cold darkness.

“Wha—huh?” Startled he spun around until he saw the beam of a flashlight approaching, though due to the darkness he could not see the face of the person speaking to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I—who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The woman moved the flashlight beam from the ground to point straight upwards. It barely illuminated her face, but he recognized her immediately. “You found my glove yesterday; I’m-”

“Kate,” he breathed, still a bit shocked to have met up with her by the lake near his cabin. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So…are you alright? You don’t have a flashlight…”

He grumbled. “I didn’t mean to walk this far from my cabin I just—I’m trying to get some cell reception.”

She hummed. “Well, you might not have too much luck with that, especially with this snowstorm coming in.”

Rick frowned. “Oh…I…hmm…sorry,” he added quickly when he could see Kate’s brow tightening in confusion. “The stove in the cabin stopped working and I tried to fix it, but, frankly, I have no idea what could be wrong, so I thought I’d call the cabin’s owner but…”

“Right.” Kate nodded. Then, after a beat added, “I can take a look if you want. I was just taking a little walk so it’s not big deal.”

“Oh—oh!” his tone elevated with surprise when he realized she was offering to help him, a total stranger, without being asked. Then again, he had found her glove earlier, so they weren’t total strangers, just mostly strangers. “Sure. That would be—that’d be great, thank you. Thank you so much.”

She shrugged and the followed him across the crisp ground towards the cabin. “It’s not a problem. The stove my parents had for years was…something. Probably a terrible fire hazard, to be honest. I finally made my father replace it a few years ago, because I was convinced one of the times he tried to fry up one of the fish he caught the whole place would go up in smoke.”

“Fair enough,” Rick chuckled as they reached the cabin’s porch.

He led the way inside where Kate scuffed her boots against the welcome mat and unzipped her coat as she slipped through the narrow doorway. She gazed around for a moment, but then immediately walked into the kitchen on the left. “Oh, yeah, this one is just like ours—only smaller,” she proclaimed upon looking at the stove.

“So you know all its secrets,” he concluded, hopeful.

“Let’s hope so,” she said, smiling at him over her shoulder before setting to work. Rick tried to ignore the tingles that smile sent down his spine as he leaned against the kitchen table, wanting to stay out of her way and feeling a bit awkward that he was unable to assist.

Rick watched as Kate checked dials and plugs and arched her body over the top of the range unit so she could presumably check the wall connection. Then with a quick, “Be right back,” she walked outside the cabin once more and he could see her walking around the house through the small window above the kitchen sink. She was outside about five minutes before she returned with a frown.

“Well, I have good news and bad news.”

Suspecting he knew the bad news, Rick concluded, “You know what’s wrong, but can’t fix it.”

Giving him a sad smile, she said, “No, I can’t. For whatever reason this stove uses a different fuel tank than the one hooked up to the water heater and furnace and that fuel tank is very empty. The owner must have forgotten to have it refilled; I’m sorry.”

Rick huffed out a breath. “Well considering its Christmas Eve I don’t think I’m going to get a fuel delivery

“No, I don’t think so.” After a moment she suggested, “You could make a fire?”

His immediate reaction was to cringe. “Ah… at the risk of sounding unmanly: I don’t know that I could successfully cook chicken that way without either burning it or giving myself food poisoning.”

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t either.”

They stood side by side in the tight kitchen silently for a moment before Rick said, “Well, that’s okay. I’ll just cut my trip a little short and go home first thing tomorrow morning, but I really appreciate your help, Kate.”

She stared at him for a few seconds before trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing over to the kitchen counter, where his packet of chicken and vegetables were sitting beside the stove, waiting patiently for him to finish prepping them. After nearly twenty seconds of silence she finally concluded, “C’mon—grab your food; you can use my stove.”

Now taken completely aback, he held his one hand up defensively and stammered, “Oh—I—I wasn’t-”

“I know, but it’s Christmas, right? C’mon.”

Nodding, he hurried to the counter and began gathering what he could and shoving it back into the shopping bag it came from. “Thanks—thanks so much. Should we drive to your place, or…?”

She nodded. “Might as well. It’s only going to snow harder as the night goes on.”

Ten minutes later, after grabbing his food, other necessary cooking items, and his coat, Rick was following Kate’s directions to navigate his Mercedes towards her family’s cabin. The journey was short and she soon was leading the way into the warm, rustic space. Her cabin was significantly larger than the one he was renting. The living space was more expansive and from the length of the hall he could see in the rear, he guessed it had three bedrooms not just two. Unlike his cabin, which was decorated with mostly generic fishing or rustic décor, this was clearly a family cabin with knickknacks and family photos adding to the warmth.

“Oh, wow this is really nice.”

Kate shrugged as she took off her coat, “It isn’t much…mostly just a little escape.”

“Yeah, but it’s still great—homey.” He smiled at her for a few seconds then put his grocery bags down while he took off his coat, too. “Well, uh, I won’t take up too much of your time. Can I make you something, too? As a thank you.”

“Oh, um…” she hesitated for a moment then threw her hands out to the side in a ‘giving up’ gesture. “Sure, why not. I saw you had chicken and vegetables…”

“Yeah, I was going to put them all together in a stir fry.”

“I have some rice to make.”

“Perfect!”

For the next few minutes they both busied themselves in the tight kitchen. It was a delicate dance as there was not too much counter space around the stove, even though it did seem, as Kate had implied, that the space had been renovated recently. They managed it well enough, and after Kate started the rice, Rick chopped the vegetables and dumped them into the skillet before turning to the chicken cutlets and slicing them as well.

“So, tell me Kate, what is it that you do?”

“I’m a police officer.”

His brow arched as he pushed the chicken off the cutting board and into the pan. “Really? So you’re used to saving people in distress?”

She laughed airily. “Something like that.”

He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and then, after turning off the water, he told her. “I’m an author.”

“I know.”

Startled by her words, he did a double-take in her direction and nearly dropped the towel he was using to dry his hands. “You…do you read my books?”

Kate’s cheeks turned slightly pink as she confessed, “I might have skimmed through one or two.”

Assuming her dismissive comment was just meant to be a way to avoid some embarrassment, Rick smiled as he turned to their skillet meal, picked up a spatula, and began pushing around chicken and vegetable pieces so nothing burned.

So, Kate was, presumably, a fan of his books. How else would she have recognized him from just his first name? That also made sense. Since she was saving him from going hungry that evening he hadn’t wanted to question it, but he did find it slightly odd that a young woman such as herself would invite a strange man back to her cabin, which was isolated in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that was just his writer’s mind used to spinning dark scenarios but…well, thinking about his daughter, he hoped that she would not make the same decision in a similar circumstance for the sake of her safety. Finding out she was a police officer made a bit more sense; her training presumably made her feel more comfortable with self-defense, but if she knew him as a public figure, she would have been more likely to feel safe around him—not that he would have ever thought of hurting a woman, but sadly he knew that was not always the case with others.

Feeling in the mood to tease her a little bit more, he said, “So that’s why you wanted to have dinner with me? Because I’m one of your favorite authors?”

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she eyed him skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s what I said.”

“It was implied.”

She laughed. “I see.”

Silence hung in the air for several moments before he changed the subject with, “So you live around here?”

“No, Manhattan.”

Now even more pleasantly surprised he proclaimed, “Oh! You’re NYPD?” After she confirmed with a nod, he said, “That’s amazing. How long have you been on the force?”

“Oh, not long. I graduated the academy in August.”

“Ahh well if you’re willing, I’d be all too happy to hear all your rookie stories as we eat.”

Ignoring his question, she instead offered, “Do you need help with anything? I feel bad I’m just standing here.”

“Nonsense,” he said casually. There really wouldn’t have been room for her to join him at the stove; the space was too tight. Besides, he didn’t mind. “I really enjoy cooking; it helps me think and plan my writing usually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, because it keeps my hands busy, but my mind free to wander.”

“Hmm…makes sense.”

A few minutes later their meal was complete. Rick divided the stir fry and rice between two plates and then carried them over to the small dining table tucked in the corner of the room. As he set the plates down, he noticed a photo hung on the wall of a family: a man and a woman with a young girl about seven or eight standing in between them. The photo was clearly older and faded, and both adults wore sunglasses, but the woman had long dark hair and distinctive jawline and the man lighter brown hair and a soft smile. All three wore lifejackets and the lake—presumably the one located just a few feet away—could be seen behind them.

“This is you and your parents, I assume?” he asked, thumbing towards the photo.

“Yeah.”

“Where are they at? Don’t tell me they took a tropical vacation without you?”

She gave a soft smile as she picked up her fork and began to eat. “No, nothing like that.”

“You’re lucky, though—getting Christmas off,” Rick said in between bites. He didn’t imagine that was common for a rookie officer.

“I have to work Christmas day in the evening. And…I’ll be in Times’ Square on New Year’s Eve,” she explained.

“Oh! And you’re…not excited about that?” he guessed based on her tone. She gave him a look and he let out a small laugh. “Ah, right, I suppose not.”

“It’s only supposed to be fifteen degrees out!”

He nodded, sympathetic. “I know, I know; I don’t envy you at all. I’ve done it a few times as a spectator and it was never too bad as long as I’d had plenty of alcohol to warm me up.”

“I’m sure.”

They ate quietly for several minutes before Rick asked, “Did you spend your Christmases up here when you were little?”

“Mmm no. This place was usually my dad’s escape. His father and uncles purchased it when they were all young men. Now, they’ve all passed, and the cabin became my father’s, so he’s the one with the most connection to it. We used to come up here at least one week every summer to do things with the lake and just get out of the city, but almost never in the winter.”

Rick considered her comments as he slowly chewed his meal. He wondered why, if Kate’s father was so connected to the cabin, the elder man hadn’t joined her for the holiday? Furthermore, why hadn’t her mother? Sensing the question may have been a bit too personal to ask with that moment, he decided on a slight change of subject.

“I, um, I think I need to come up with some good holiday traditions for my daughter. I used to make sure I got her picture sitting on Santa’s lap every year, but this year she outright refused because she’s figured out that Santa isn’t real, so she’s a little salty about the whole ritual and refused to humor me. That’s literally what she said to—‘Dad, don’t expect me to humor you.’”

Kate laughed. “How old is she?”

“Six.”

Kate laughed again, harder that time. “Six?!”

“Yeah: six going on twenty. I think she’s already too smart for me and I fear that will soon be a pretty big problem.”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, it might be. Where is she spending Christmas?”

Sighing, Rick set down his fork and said, “With her mother. Last year, we’d just separated, so we tried to have a joint Christmas and it…didn’t go so well.” He involuntarily shivered at the memory of the wildly inappropriate phone conversation Meredith had with her new lover during their shared meal and their fight thereafter. “So, this year we decided to split the winter holidays: I got Thanksgiving and Meredith got Christmas.”

She nodded and said, “That must be hard.”

Unable to verbalize just how much his heart was breaking, Rick tried to stay positive. “I suppose it’s unfair of me to complain. I have primary custody, so I have Alexis nearly all the time, but Christmas…it’s my favorite holiday. My favorite time of the year. What’s worse is I had to send her to California by herself. I did get to take her through security to the gate and the assigned chaperone was extremely nice and gave her a candy cane but… it was still really hard to walk away.”

“I can’t imagine,” Kate said. When he met her sympathetic gaze, Rick did have to admit to feeling slightly better. Still, his heart was heavy.

“Sorry to bring the mood down.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry about it.”

Finishing his glass of water, Rick continued with, “It’s, ah, why I came out here. Being in my apartment without her just felt like something that was too sad to bear.”

“I get that. It’s one of the reasons I’m not doing Christmas in the city this year.”

Surprised, his brow rose sharply. “You have a child?”

“What? No—sorry. Sorry. My mother…died.”

His eyes widened and his chest constricted with sorrow. Though he knew he didn’t do it directly, Rick did feel bad about bringing up a subject that was sensitive. “Oh—oh Kate I’m so sorry.”

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sad half-smile in acknowledgement of his comment. “This is the fourth Christmas without her. She, ah, died in January. Just after the holidays and…and my dad and I haven’t really celebrated since. He…we don’t even talk about it. We just don’t celebrate, which is…well, it is what it is, but being in the city makes it harder—walking past all the places where we made memories together as a family. And then this year…” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost as though she needed to reset herself. “The reason I even got to take off work at all was because I had to take him to rehab.”

“Oh god,” Rick sighed, now feeling even worse. There he was complaining about not getting to spend a few days with his kid, who would be back before New Years’, and poor Kate had lost one parent forever and the other was struggling to the point where he was unavailable to her as well. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Kate.”

She gave him an appreciative smile. “It’s been bad for a while. I knew it. We both knew it. He’s been trying to get a handle on it on his own and been insisting he didn’t need an in-patient program, but it just wasn’t working, you know? Finally, I got him to agree to go as a Christmas present to me. Some present,” she added wryly.

“It will be if it helps him,” Rick pointed out in a soft tone.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that. It’s just…hard.” She sat for another moment before pushing herself up out of her chair suddenly, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out a cardboard carton, which she held up to him. “Want some?”

Even from that distance, Rick could clearly read the word “Eggnog” printed on the side and said, “Sure. Why not? It’s Christmas Eve.”

Kate poured two small glasses and handed him one. At the first sip he choked, his palate shocked by the alcohol, which he hadn’t expected since she poured it from a store-bought container and to his knowledge the store-bought kind was alcohol free. “Wow,” he croaked. “Your recipe could give my mother’s a run for her money.”

“Sorry—I should have warned you. I, uh, got a little heavy handed last night when I poured the whisky in the container.”

He shook his head in as an indication he didn’t mind, but he did make sure to take a more delicate sip the next time.

“So, your mother—will you see her for Christmas?” Kate asked.

“Ah, no, actually. She’s an actress and she’s touring with a holiday production. Their shows run through January second and she’ll come back home after that.”

“And your father?”

“Never met him,” Rick replied casually, taking another sip of eggnog.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Really? Never?”

Rick bobbed his head, knowing his untraditional backstory was a bit hard to process for most people. “Yeah; I don’t even know who he is. I was the, ah, product of a one-night stand.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Rick shook his head. “’s okay. I’ve had over thirty years to process it.”

“Still…to never know a parent…I can’t imagine.”

He nodded. “Most can’t—and I’m glad. It’s certainly not something I would wish on anyone, but yet it’s also something that made me who I am.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s a very healthy attitude, Rick.”

He raised his glass in salute. “Well, thank you.”

For the next three hours they drank the remainder of the quart of eggnog and chatted about an amalgamation of subjects: their jobs, the holiday season, life. Though he didn’t exactly acknowledge it at the time, looking back Rick was almost stunned how easy it seemed to talk to her about anything. Over the course of his life, he’d found himself having quick and easy connections to people he met several times, but each one was unique in its own way. With Kate, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They bounced around to a variety of topics and then back again without feeling like the conversation was too disjointed or nonsensical. It was all smooth and connected, like she was one of his oldest friends in the world instead of a woman he’d met by pure chance the day before.

Once the eggnog was finished, Kate offered Rick some water since he was driving, but he declined when he realized how long they’d been talking. By traditional standards it wasn’t that late, but he felt as though a holiday such as Christmas Eve had an exception. He didn’t want to displace whatever existing holiday plans she had for herself that night, particularly since she was returning to work the following day.

“I appreciate it, but I really should get out of your hair.”

“Ahh, yeah okay. I…I don’t think I realized what time it was,” she said with a light laugh.

“Yeah me neither. I, um, I really appreciate you letting me use your stove.”

She nodded. “Of course. Thanks for making dinner. It was…nice to have someone to eat with.”

Smiling, he agreed with, “Same,” and then stared at her for a moment, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye. A handshake seemed far too impersonal, but would a hug be too much? Deciding he shouldn’t over think it and that it was probably okay considering the intimacy of their conversation, he stepped up and gave her a brief one-armed hug, which she thankfully reciprocated. “Merry Christmas,” he said as he backed his way to the door, where he’d left his coat.

“Yes, Merry Christmas.”

Now zipping his coat, he reached for the door handle and smiled back over his shoulder at her, “Goodnight Kate.”

“Goodnight, Rick,” she echoed. Then, with a nod of his head, he disappeared out into the freezing snow-covered night.

#castle #caskett #castle fanfiction #castleficathonwinter2020 #12PromptsofChristmas #my fic: 12 Prompts of Christmas

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