#i was struggling against my school assignments just to release this fic on my birthday which is like 7 days after baek cheon's lmao

[enihk-writes]

[i got my red dress on tonight]

pairing: baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader

summary: you were in a wedding dress for an assignment, baek cheon misunderstands the situation.

word count: 7.21k

[01] ║ [02]

content warning: mentions of a death late in the story // brief detailed description of a post-mortem examination

author's note: heavily inspired by that one scene in the crimson wedding arc from yeon lokheun, webtoon chapter 44-45,,,,, oh man,,,,,, it got me thinking for YEARSSSS!!!!! i was running laps and losing my mind!!!! oh my god!!!!! foaming at the mouth,,, yall i have to get it out of my system asap,,,, i let it marinate in my noggin for too long,,, finally i have my perfect lab rat to test the scene on,,,,,,,, baek cheon,,,,,when i catch you,,,,,baek cheon,,,,, grabs him like a squeaking rubber chicken.... i hope yall know im writing this while my main room light is broken and im doing all of this in complete darkness lmao the maintenance takes weeks to get back to me.... OH AND BTW,, the story got so long i had to cut it in half... i think i would have gone insane if i let it run any longer.

[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]

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the fourth division of the emperor's guard corps was a small unit with members you could count with the fingers on both hands. otherwise known as the unnatural death investigation squad, you and your fellow detectives would take on cold cases from various magistrate offices across the empire, who just couldn't understand why people were suddenly dropping dead like flies without rhyme or reason. most times, it was a restless spirit. other times, it was the work of some unorthodox martial arts cult.

and when it was the latter case, that's when you had to call on other martial artists to deal with their own. civilian government and murim politics shouldn't mix. that was the first and most important unspoken rule everyone had to follow. but it was not that big of a deal to turn a blind eye toward anything not involving the law.

it was from these exchanges you first got to meet baek cheon.

he was by all means a good guy, annoyingly put-together every time you crossed paths with him. it would've been better if he wasn't so sharp to know exactly what would rile you up — made you wonder if there was some ulterior motive for all of this.

it was on the last night of an expedition in some town you didn't even remember the name of anymore. the case was closed with no issue and the spirits had been led into the afterlife smoothly. it was just one of those days when the problem was nipped in the bud early enough that the casualties were kept at a minimum. your fellow detectives had decided to celebrate by drinking and eating at the inn till your pockets were drained.

you let them do what they like, besides, it's been a while since the squad had a proper break from work. it was good to keep things balanced, and if you did run out of money you could always ask the emperor for more.

but there was no doubt that you were growing tired. eyelids growing heavier as the night went on, the noisy chatter of the people around you was lulling you into a short slumber.

miss detective, you shouldn't be sleeping in a place like this.

there was a low voice speaking softly in your ear. you open your eyes a crack to see a hand cradling your head gently. as you slowly came back down to earth, you glimpse at the familiar faces of the mount hua sect disciples talking to your subordinates. chung myung was already ordering multiple bottles of wine as he made himself comfortable at the table seated next to your vice-captain, the others were mingling around. which means—

are you awake, miss detective?

in your drowsiness, you had somehow leaned back far enough to fall out of your chair. baek cheon had caught you just in time and saved you from getting hurt. you should have been thankful, but the embarrassment of having him of all people see this humiliating side of you really ruffled your feathers, and you had to hold back from jolting away out of instinct.

thanks... i suppose.

you say, muttering off at the end. not wanting to look at the man who was now sitting next to you.

hm? i didn't quite catch that...

you swing your head to glare at him indignantly. but baek cheon returns your hostility with a closed-eyed smile, an arm propped up on the table, his cheek resting on his palm.

i just wanted to say thank you... for catching me from falling over just now...

hm.

that's it? a mere hm, like he wasn't trying to tease a reaction out of you and you were fighting so hard to not give him that satisfaction of knowing he got you wrapped around his finger, and all he could give you was a hm?

you know, if baek cheon wasn't as handsome or good-looking as he was, you wouldn't have been this upset and bothered. you were so cool-headed, you were so good at being calm it was exactly how you got this job but he had to dance into your life and keep appearing around you to the point where it was weirder if you hadn't heard any news about him at all—

hold on.

wait.

did you... did you just think that he was... handsome and good-looking?

oh no.

you did like him. when did it even happen? how could you have let this happen? this wasn't what you had planned! ugh, curse that stupid heart of yours! why were you this weak to handsome men?

standing up, you feel your face grow heated. shit. shit. shit. has he noticed that you liked him? you'd rather be caught dead then have baek cheon flash you that annoying smile at you again.

miss detective?

you look down at his face, eyes turned down in worry. a small pang shot through your heart — were you going to have to be mean to that soft expression on his face?

you racked your brain for a reason, any good reason to leave, but all your answers were all filmsy and really, truly obvious that you thought he was a problem. but he just looked so much like a kicked puppy your mouth just began to blabber.

i'm fine. i just.... needed some air... that's all.

oh, that was so smooth. you totally nailed it, you smart woman—

ah! then, could i accompany you? i guess i'm still worried that you would fall over like you did earlier...

fuck. you couldn't say no to that.

sighing deeply, you nod. whatever strength in you utterly spent. you knew in your gut that whatever god or guardian angel existed was snickering at you right now. and you sure hoped that you were putting on the best-damned show of their lives.

you made your way out to the back alley, but not before dropping the money for the bill in the store-owner's hands. baek cheon followed closely behind. so close, in fact, that sometimes you would move back a little and inevitably bump into his chest. and every time you did, his hands would ghost over the dip of your curves. always close but never actually touching you, leaving you even more frustrated at each instance.

ah...?

you feel something furry brush past your ankles, the sudden feeling made you jump back yet again. and once more, he was there to catch you from falling unceremoniously to the floor.

miss detective... please be careful...

his voice was low and breathy, and so, so dangerously close to your ear. again, those stupid hands of his were hovering along your sides. barely touching even though he could have. you glance at his hands. you mind wonders how it would feel on you.

they were bigger than yours for sure, rough with callouses and healed over cuts, probably from the training he's done. his fingers were thick, but also shaped so beautifully — shame that his nails were cropped short, you think it would have made his hands look lovelier. if you held them, you wonder, would your fingers fit into the gaps of his?

was this the time to grow a little courageous? should you say something? your head runs with questions you were not sure if you wanted an answer to, but if this went on for any longer, you don't know how your poor heart would have handled it.

mount hua's righteous sword, there is something i believe we should address. something that is related to the two of us.

you had turned to face him, your eyes looking straight into his. baek cheon gulped anxiously at the intensity of your gaze, moving a step back as you took one forward. one foot behind another until he was backed up against the wall. he wanted to hide his face, having you right in front of him like this... he didn't know just how much more he could endure.

i think you're a little too close, miss detective.

am i now?

you chuckle, palms laying flat on the wall on either side of him, arms straight as you hold yourself up and only slightly away from him. everything around you begins to go dull, it was just you and him, standing in this narrow and dark back alley where no one had ever bothered to pass through. the night was cold, and the warmth radiating between from him was tempting, but you weren't going to make the first move. you figured he might share the same feelings as you did, or something close to it. if you push at it, would he fold to his desire or would you be proven wrong?

miss detective, i'm not sure if we should be doing this?

hm? whatever do you mean?

miss detective, please don't act coy.

baek cheon tried to be firm with you, tried to reason with himself that this was just you playing a prank on him. though, he really wanted to know what it would be like if he leaned down and took your lips in his, and got you to shut up for a bit.

forgive me, miss detective, for what i am to do. i am merely a mortal man with desires, after all.

his voice dropped into a breathless whisper as he brought his hand under your head, cradling it as gently as he would a precious being. fingers tread through your hair before it takes hold of a small bunch, yanking it lightly to have you look up into his face. your hands hurriedly grasped his uniform, the fabric bunching up in your tight grip. sure, you did the calculations, but man, were you shit at math. your heart was racing so rapidly at that point you just knew he could feel the thumping of your chest against him.

nervous?

he asks, leaning down a little closer, the corners of his mouth quivering from turning upwards into a smile. this little shit! you should've known he was ten steps ahead of you and planned for you to corner him like this since the night began!

so you connected the dots?

i cannot imagine just where you get your audacity from.

hm, maybe if you kiss me now, i could tell you.

stop looking for excuses and just... you know what?

baek cheon's eyes widen when he feels you grab the front of his uniform, pulling him down and feeling something soft barely brushing against his lips for a moment before you pull away.

you hid your face behind your arm, feet flat on the ground after standing on the tip of your toes just to reach his ridiculous height. if you didn't know any better, you would have thought you were running a fever with how heated the back of your ears and neck were becoming, palms ridden with sweat and the shrill ringing in your ears. you hoped it was dark enough that he wouldn't see you in this state.

baek cheon on the other hand, was still reeling from your straightforwardness, never really expecting that you were the one to take the lead. but strangely, he wanted to see more of that side of you, and honestly? he liked that his heart fluttered from that.

oh? taking the initiative now, aren't we? miss detective, you've gotten so bold...

grinning down at you cheekily, he tries to take a peek past the arm you were hiding behind. he was really having the time of his life taking the piss out of you, wasn't he?

please shut up.

i think you'd have to make me, miss detective.

you shot him a look. wondering if you were the bolder one or he. but maybe you didn't really need to mull over that question for long since he's already cupped his hand on your cheek, tilting your face to meet his as he leaned down once more, to give you a proper kiss on your lips this time.

and you couldn't find it in you to pull away.

he felt the same.

if one of you pulled away for a second, even for a short gasp of air, the other would chase after them — it's almost like the two of you had finally been given something you were both starved of for who knows how long?

it was getting dangerous, how heated things were growing to be between the two of you — he parts from the kiss for a moment, muttering a soft, wait, as his arms hooked under your knees, hoisting you up and against the wall.

you take this moment to look at him, properly. the new angle had him looking up at you, eyes a little glassy and his lips slightly damp and swollen from all that kissing. that forehead ribbon of his had begun slipping a little, your hands found their way to the back of his head, untying the knot and watching it fall over his eyes and draped across his shoulders.

i didn't even notice it was coming undone...

baek cheon mutters to himself, not really bothering to do anything with the ribbon, especially since his hands were a little busy with holding you up against the wall.

you giggle, leaning down to kiss his now exposed forehead, a peck on his brow down to the bridge of his nose and further onto his cheekbones and back again on his lips.

he smiles into the kiss, growing giddy as the air grows scarce between the two of you, the heat of the moment growing to a boiling point and beginning to tip over. shit, things were going fast, but it felt like it was now or never, your clothes were dishevelled enough to be taken off at this point and if he'd asked you to, you think you would have done it without question.

senior investigator!

baek cheon sasuk!

it was the voices of your juniors sent out to look for you both. probably because of how long you were back here with him.

the two of you pulled away from each other, minds still in a daze from what conspired. but as the footsteps grew closer towards the direction of the back alley you were in, the realisation snapped in instantaneously — baek cheon drops you on your feet, as you scramble to straighten out the creases on your attire, he ties his hair back up as neatly as he could, patting his uniform down and trying to look presentable. not that getting caught would have put either of you in trouble, it was just not something a senior should be seen doing, especially when out in public.

you look back at him, and your eyes meet. you feel a little shy after what happened, and he shoots you a sheepish grin in an attempt to apologise for the interruption. hm, maybe you should find him in private later, to continue this exchange, seeing how neither of you were satisfied with this outcome.

miss detective...

baek cheon clears his throat.

our juniors are calling for us, i believe we should get going.

you nod, absentmindedly.

you were the first to walk off, baek cheon hanging back for a moment, not wanting to cause you trouble by walking out together with you. even if he really wanted to pull back for one last quick kiss.

stepping out onto the streets, your junior officer greets you, their eyes growing round in the way only a rookie new to the field would be. through the nervous stammer of their words, you receive your instructions for the next operation.

behind you, baek cheon finally emerges from the shadows, heading towards the kid from his sect, the one named jo-gul, was it? they talked amongst themselves, voices too far and too muted for you to dechiper. well, who cares? that wasn't any of your business anyway.

miss detective, i'll be going in now.

again, his voice was low and slightly raspy in your ear. a hand rests on your shoulder, a little rough and bigger than yours but still pleasantly warm regardless.

sure. i won't keep you here any longer.

your tongue darts out to wet your lips, looking away from his hands.

the rookie's eyes dart between you and baek cheon rapidly, the cogs in their brain turning faster when they see how his hand leaves your shoulder and down to his side, though his fingers kept lingering over the small of your back as he talked to you.

he pulls away at the last second, hands balled up lightly as he takes a step back and turns to walk towards the inn. the rookie clicks their tongue, what was that anti-climatic scene? if he wants to flirt, do it properly, for heaven's sake!

oi rookie, watch it.

shoot, they forgot you were still right there.

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that was the first of your many escapades with him.

both of you were moving from town to town and had different places to be every time. but on the off chance he was in the same area as you were, he would always be the first to find you, slipping out of bed in the middle of the night to meet you at the open windows of your room. sometimes he'd walk in with his sa-jaes into the restaurant you were in and act as though it was a whole coincidence. with the whole never expected to see you here speech and everything.

it wasn't though. you had already told him where you were planning to take the kids for dinner when he came over last night, and you had joked then that he would use this knowledge to walk in like he had no clue beforehand and put on a big act about how all this was such a coincidence, totally not something he'd already known of.

aww... so you want me to lie to everybody?

he sulks a little, rolling to his side in mock sadness, facing away from you. but the bed you were both lying on was only so wide, and baek cheon ended up on his back, looking up at the ceiling while the cicadas cried into the summer night skies.

you giggled, cooing at his somewhat childish display, your hand reaching out to cradle his cheek, turning his face to meet yours.

but i thought you said we shouldn't tell anyone about us yet?

scooting a little closer, you drape your arm across his chest, moving around to get more comfortable. a short pause later, you let out a tired yawn, nuzzling your head under his chin, fingers curling around the loose threads of his clothes.

you couldn't see it then, but baek cheon's felt a small twinge in his heart at what you'd said. yes, it was true that he'd suggested keeping your relationship a secret, for now. but, it was also true that you wouldn't have agreed to be with him in any way if you were both ever open about being together.

you'd told him in passing about how falling in love or having a significant other was risky and frankly, quite troublesome — especially in your line of work. if you ever needed anything, or ever felt the need for something physical, you'd rather have one where strings weren't attached.

did you like him? yeah.

were you committed to him?

...

that was something you don't think you could ever say yes to with any sort of certainty or conviction.

you liked the way things were with him now. meeting him every few weeks, making out in dark corners of the streets or behind closed doors where no one else goes, catching up and cuddling in bed until he had to go back to his place before the sun rose — it was nice. that was a nice routine.

if you were to commit, what if your feelings for him begin to change? what if they changed because putting on a label for your relationship was like chaining you to him in some way? you were a selfish person, always had been and always known it. you didn't like promising yourself to someone, yet you wanted baek cheon to be with you only and also hated the idea of you yourself ever liking anybody other them him.

your finger had been drawing shapes on his chest mindlessly this whole time as you were deep in thought. he wonders what was weighing on your mind this deeply for you to be looking that lost?

baek cheon decided not to push it.

if you'd retreated away from him, out of habit or apprehension, he doesn't think he would be able to handle the pain he would feel from that. so instead, he chooses to flip you on your back and pepper your face with kisses. at least it snapped you out of whatever reverie you were in, and he even got to see you giggle a little.

this was good enough.

it was good enough for the two of you right now.

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i have to go off earlier tomorrow.

it was spring now, and a few days after new years. the red banners and lanterns were still hanging above the streets, festivities still not over with the distant laughter of children or the clinks from the cups filled with sweet wine from last year's harvest or the startled barking of dogs as firecrackers were set off.

i can't tell you what it is about, obviously.

you continued, making your way over to where he was, settling down on his lap, legs on either side of him as you were both face-to-face. he hums softly, arms slowly snaking behind your waist, pulling you in close enough to burrow into your chest.

someone's a little clingy tonight...

you say with a teasing lilt in your voice, not bothering to stop or push his head off you. he mumbles something in retaliation, though you couldn't hear it with how muffled the sound was from how he covered his whole face in your chest. wow, who would have thought that the righteous sword of hua was a pervert all along huh?

earlier that day, baek cheon had a feeling in his gut, he didn't really know if it was a good or bad feeling but there was something in there, telling him that he should try to wear his heart on his sleeve just for you tonight. it's almost like, he was scared of something that would certainly change your relationship with him was going to happen soon.

you look down at him, wondering what got him so unusually quiet.

cheon-ah.

he lets out a noise of acknowledgement, not looking up at you.

cheon-ah, what are you thinking about?

this and that.

he still wasn't looking up.

you huffed. really? you were finally seeing him after more than three months, and now, he acts so distant when you're bound to leave tomorrow? this was unacceptable.

cheon-ah, look at me...

a short pause, and with a shaky breath —

...please?

he hears the tremble in your voice, and he feels like a knife had pierced and twisted through his wretched heart. no, he didn't mean to make you cry, he didn't mean to upset you.

he looks up, eyes desperately meeting yours, taking in how glossy it looked. really, he should be saying something, but he couldn't find the words. choosing to pull you down on the bed with him, amused by the muted grunt you let out when you fell on his chest.

sorry about that.

he wants to tell you how much he's always liked you, he wants to tell you how much he's waited and waited to even have the courage to first approach you, he wants to tell you that he wants so much more than a touch-and-go night encounter with you, that you were so much more then a means of fulfilling his physical needs.

but yet again, like every night before this, he keeps those thoughts to himself. he could see clearer than anyone that you still were not ready to commit to him. he said he could wait, and so he will wait.

honestly though?

he was believing less and less in his own patience.

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the new assignment your unit was taking was the consistent deaths of young brides who, after being left alone to prepare for the first wedding night, were all found dead under mysterious circumstances. no signs of a struggle led everyone to think it was a case of taking one's own life.

thing is, with one or two far-apart cases it would have been a viable reason. but with how it started all of a sudden and had never stopped since, everyone believed it was a serial killer. again, with no traces, there was just no way to tell who was responsible for all the tragedies that have occurred.

the fourth division of the emperor's guard corps, otherwise known as the unnatural death investigation squad, were all psychics of varying degrees. some could only see, some could only hear, some could only purify and some were a combination of a few of those traits. but all were trained imperial soldiers, and you stood above them as an outsider with the ability to do all three.

you had to work really hard to gain the respect of your subordinates. though, that is a story for another day. people have asked, wondering why the emperor, of all people, would ever put together a unit that specialised in exorcisms?

well, sure he was a man of science, and he personally didn't believe in all of this occult gibberish. but he was a ruler, and a decent ruler listens to the needs of his people no matter how silly it was. at the height of the unexplained death phenomena that spread and planted seeds of fear into the hearts of the people nationwide, the special unit was formed quickly and dispatched. deep down, you knew the real reason was that he did not want to create a flaw in his authority and risk his position on the throne he fought so hard for.

when all these cases were solved, what was going to happen to you? what was going to happen to your subordinates? the emperor, he was a man who kept up appearances. if history were to record the existence of this unit, he would have seemed like a fool who believed in something as baseless as the supernatural. and he hated that idea more than anything.

though, that was a bridge you would have to cross when you get to it. you just hoped you could lie and provide a cover-up convincing enough when that time comes —

chief detective!

you felt your body jolt in surprise. you were so out of it, not hearing the constant calls from your juniors. what a bad example you were setting. your worries will have to be put aside for now. you were to meet with the latest victims of the bride slayings.

you step into the bedroom of the newlyweds, decorated from floor to ceiling in red, the colour of prosperity and the promise of a life of joy with each other, now sullied with the blood of the innocent bride.

right in the middle all alone, was the groom, sitting quietly on the chair, his hands gripping the veil his wife wore close to his chest. his back heaving, his breaths shallow and shaky. it seems he has cried away all of his tears, and all that was left was a man who was a shell of himself. he turns to the people coming in, and you bite back a gasp at the hollow emptiness of his eyes.

have you found the one who took my wife's life away?

the fathers of the bride and groom share a look, before shaking their heads. unable to find the strength to answer him.

oh, i see.

the man answers numbly, turning back to look at the veil in his hands. his shoulders droop even lower and you felt so, so much pity for the family.

the two fathers bring you back to the courtyard. telling you the story of how all of this happened.

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new years eve.

the streets were filled with villagers visiting vendors and watching lion dance performances long after the sun had set. the energy of the crowd grew when a palanquin decorated with ribbons and flowers made its way down the road.

cheers and hoots erupt from the crowd as the more nosy few tried to take a peek at the bride inside. she sat with her legs folded under her, hands placed delicately on her lap, the vibrant red veil covering her face from the world. she was glad for the veil, grateful at how it hid her giddy smile. she had met the man of her dreams and was now going to marry him? she never thought she would be this lucky.

after tonight, they would really be husband and wife.

the bride giggled, her hand over her mouth, she was so happy. would this happiness ever end?

the palanquin soon left the village centre and turned onto the road leading to her groom's house. the trip was a short and rather uneventful one. after all, it was from her parent's house on the other side of town, less than a few minutes away.

when they arrived, she stepped out and was greeted by a line of ladies-in-waiting, all hired just to help her prepare for her wedding night. the bride, felt her face heat up at the thoughts running in her head — how improper! she really should behave a little.

she was hurried into the bedroom, all decked out in lavish red decorations, and was told to wait for the ladies-in-waiting to come back soon.

the door shut behind her, and the bride was left to her thoughts.

the moon shone high above the cloudless night sky, it's cold light gentle and quiet. the bride takes off her veil, taking in a deep breath of the fresh air after being suffocated under the veil the whole ceremony.

hehehe...

a tinkling laugh swept past behind her in the dark bedroom.

startled, the bride looks back, searching to see who or what it was. she takes a timid step, and then another into the dark room. her hand rests on the back of a chair to steady herself as her eyes grew used to the darkness.

she was alone in the room.

how peculiar, the bride thinks, wondering if she was just hearing things from exhaustion or nervousness.

the shadows above started to trickle down onto the unsuspecting bride, as a pair of hands began to take shape around her. the long fingers taking ahold of the veil in the bride's hands slowly, inch by inch, until the sides were bunched up in their hands.

keugh...!

in a quick motion, the shadows lifted the veil upwards, catching the under of the bride's chin. the bride didn't even have the chance to react, it all happened in an instant. she couldn't even put up a struggle, and her feet grew limp and eventually stopped kicking.

═══════════════

that was how we found her.

the groom's father ended the story with a glance into the room where his son still sat. the bride's father was also in a mess, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand, trying not to let out a sob.

you take in the sight before you, steeling yourself to ask the inevitable question.

if i may, could i see the body?

the fathers share a glance.

you may.

they agree to the request and turn to lead you to the funeral home where the victim lay to rest. the one who met the three of you at the entrance was a small, middle-aged man who had his seeing glasses balanced precariously on the tip of his nose. he introduced himself as the private coroner the two fathers had hired. you nod solemnly in greeting.

we will be taking our leave now chief detective. i hope you can find the culprit soon.

when the backs of the two fathers finally disappear into the horizon, you turn to the coroner, your gaze landing on the table behind you. you gesture at him to give you the run down of what he's found.

the bride's injuries were as expected, ligature marks on her neck where she had choked against her veil. her eyes were rolled back, and her tongue was puffy, sticking against the roof of her mouth, meaning it was hard for her to breathe. thin miniscule red threads were found on the underside of her fingernails, probably from when she was clawing at the veil. interestingly enough, there were no signs of other materials found. no skin or foreign hairs, did she not see who had attacked her?

there's also something i want to show you

the coroner pulls the white sheet covering her body down, revealing to you a spot on her shoulder, dark with veins growing outwards of the centre in a spider-web fashion. you took another look at the unnatural paleness of the corpse, it's almost as if —

her blood was drained?

yes, and we found her like this, officer.

you look at the man, hoping he would continue, but he only replied with a shrug. it seemed that he was just about as clueless as you were in this bizarre post-mortem findings.

you thank him, regardless. leaving the funeral home to meet your team with more questions than answers.

the surroundings were quiet and still, almost like nothing this terrible ever happened at all. nature held back, refusing to give you a clue on this matter. you didn't sense any presence back in the bedroom, you felt nothing in the funeral home or even when your fingers hovered near the odd spot on the victim's shoulder.

chief?

somehow, your feet had led you back to the inn you and the kids were staying in. you didn't want to waste too much time, as much as you would have loved to ask more questions about when the incidents even began, there was a wedding scheduled in a few days and you were not going to let a bride die like that on your watch.

═══════════════

chief, isn't this dangerous?

it is. but we have to do it, i can't think of any other plan. we're too short on time.

but what if something happens to you, senior?

you pause, mulling over the idea once more, before letting out a long drawn-out sigh. you plop on the chair, tired and exasperated, your head in your hands. they were right, something could go wrong and you could die from this. but a job was a job, besides, you didn't want to risk anyone else's life with this reckless plan you had.

if something happens to me, remember that getting rid of the culprit is your top priority. you can always find me later. is that clear?

silence.

the kids all looked at each other anxiously.

officers. have i made myself clear?

your voice hardens, time was ticking. you had to go now.

a few of the new recruits flinched at your cold tone and the older ones looked away. you were going to ask them again but they finally responded a meek, yes chief.

═══════════════

night has fallen, the red lanterns had been lit once more and the colourful banners and ribbons danced high up in the breezy night skies.

baek cheon walked together with his sect brothers past the bustling crowd of people. they were all leaving the town to go back to mount hua after finishing the odd jobs the elders had given out.

hey, isn't it a lot busier today?

one of the other second-class disciples wondered aloud. baek cheon looks around him, noticing the crowds were larger than yesterday's. and a lot more excited for some reason too.

did you hear? there's a wedding procession coming along!

another wedding? didn't we have that a few days ago?

baek cheon, felt his ears twitch.

a wedding, huh? his mind wanders off to an image of you donned in red silk, patterns of peacock feathers and branches woven in gold thread, a red veil over your head and your hair decorated with peonies and the loveliest plum blossoms one could find atop mount hua.

just like that bride sitting in the palanquin over there —

oh.

his heart sank, shattering at the pit on his feet. he knows that face anywhere, how could he ever hope to forget that face that was now mirroring his own in shock, though he couldn't tell if you were just as despaired as he was.

you had only planned so far, you didn't think he would cross paths with you like this. you didn't want him to see you like this. not at all, not ever. your mind registered the way his shoulders fell, shoulders that were always straight and firm, to show the world how he carried the name of mount hua with pride. they fell, because of you.

what should you do? you have to let him know but, the mission! you couldn't abandon your post, but you —

your eyes darted frantically, nails digging into your palms from how tightly your hands were balled. something, there had to be something!

a gust of wind blows harshly past the town, strong enough to send your veil flying off your head towards the crowd of people. it flutters in the air, like a vivid flame, falling gracefully on the dusty dirt path.

baek cheon steps past the crowds, picking up your veil that fell to his feet, clutching the delicate fabric in his hands. he looks at it longingly for a moment and you wonder for a moment if he would have a change of heart and tear it up in anger. maybe if he did, you would have felt better, it would be justified and you would have paid your dues.

a loud crack and the sky was filled with blooms of light. the crowd's attention was drawn to the fireworks being set off in the distance. their heads and bodies turn away from you, and they made their way towards the site of the new spectacle. you watch baek cheon exchange words with his sect brothers, and they wave goodbye as they too turn and went off.

it was just you and baek cheon, and the distance in between you two, left in that place. he dusts off the debris on your veil and walks towards you in big strides.

one. two. three.

just like that, he stood before you, his features backlit by the blinding fireworks in the sky. you couldn't read his expressions either, the night was too dark for you to make out anything.

cheon-ah...

you know.

he cuts you off, not wanting to hear what you were going to say. not wanting to know if this was truly what he thought it was.

you know, i've always wanted to be the one to lift this veil off you one day. but to think another man would be the one to do it, and not me... it hurts. i'm sorry for being so selfish, i know you don't like men that are like that. but, i can't help it... you know?

baek cheon gently puts the veil back on your head. he wants to tell you how pretty you looked then, but he bites back. this wasn't his place to say such a thing, he wasn't even yours anymore. besides, he's said more than enough.

he steps back, and takes another, turns, and begins to head off. if he stayed, he might do something he would regret, he didn't want to go off and act on his desires and ruin your future because of it.

you weren't thinking when your hand reached out, grabbing the end of his sleeve, gripping at it till your knuckles turned white.

baek cheon stops in his tracks, his head turning to look back at your face, the outline of your frantic expression shining through the translucent veil. you were so cruel. how could you pull him back in like this, when you knew how weak he was to your every order?

don't grip it so hard, you could hurt these lovely hands you have.

he spoke softly, taking your balled fist in his, thumbs rubbing it over soothingly. he coos as your grip grew loose, lacing your hands together with his, bringing it to his lips as he kisses the tip of each finger tenderly.

he's still not your husband yet, and you're not his either. so i suppose this much i can do.

muttering, he cradles the back of your head tilting it up to face him. baek cheon leans down, placing his hand over yours that had wriggled free from his kisses, now gripping the frame of the opening in the palanquin.

you gasped softly when you felt his lips meet yours, the veil that was still draped over your head acted as a barrier, but it couldn't really obstruct the desperation you felt in his kiss. he parted for a brief second when the air in your lungs ran out.

cheon-ah, listen...

he draws you in for another kiss, and another, and then another. or was he the one moving closer towards you? either way, he was falling into the small space of the palanquin you were sitting in, the air rapidly growing warmer as time went on.

finally, he pulls away, breathless and dazed. you were looking up at him, doe-eyed with lips soft and plumped from his ministrations. you looked so tempting, he wanted to carry you up and away from here to someplace no one besides him would know of, leave everything behind and live out the rest of his life with you.

your hand reaches up to brush his hair out of his face, tucking a strand behind his ear, fingers ghosting over his cheek. baek cheon laughs tiredly, moving to place a peck on the palm of your hand and finally pulling away fully. stepping out he stands up fully, squaring his shoulders, he steels himself to really get going.

wait, cheon-ah...

your hand reached out again to grab at him, but he was too quick for you, leaving you grasping into thin air. your hand fell, and so did your heart. you didn't get to tell him, you stupid, stupid woman! you were supposed to tell him, weren't you? getting all caught up in a kiss like some teenage girl in puberty — you were the head investigator of the fourth division for fuck's sake!

you sigh deeply, leaning back to rest against the hard lacquer of the palanquin. you had to get back to your job. hopefully, nothing bad happens and you finish this mission quickly. maybe you could even catch up to him and finally explain everything, clear up all the doubts in his mind once and for all too.

you lit the smoke flare and sent it out to your unit waiting on standby.

well, it's time to get going.

[hoe-doroki]

ana’s bnha x reader masterlist

first updated 11.17.20 last updated 07.13.21 desktop version found here bkdk masterlist: desktop | mobile

fics [38] drabbles [13]

Thanks for dropping by! I want to note that I no longer write x reader and instead am writing bakudeku shipfic. So! By all means, read, like, comment on my fics here! But I can't recommend that you follow me unless you like bakudeku. Hope you enjoy your time here regardless! <3

legend:

character x character

Title w/ link | [rating] | word count | genre

Synopsis

ratings are bracketed: e.g. [g], [t], [m], [e]

[g] - appropriate for general audiences [t] - appropriate for audiences 13+ [m] - contains non-graphic adult themes [e] - explicit, 18+ readers only

🌸 = personal faves

characters x reader: no ship (1), aizawa (2), bakugou (12), endeavor (1), iida (2), kaminari (1), kirishima (4), midoriya (7), shinsou (2), todoroki (19)

Everything is in alphabetical order <3

no ship

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.6k | hurt/comfort

The results are in and your class is all with you as you process the results

aizawa x reader

Stress Relief | [e] | 3k | smut

There's a new regulation that forces you to take an extra class before you can graduate college. When you learn that Eraserhead is teaching the class, you’re a little more interested.

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.6k | hurt/comfort 

Aizawa reminds that you were prepared for this and, together, you can handle it.

bakugou x reader

Can’t Find My Breath | [e] | 4.2k | smut 🌸

At the beginning of the day, Ground Zero was just another hero you wrote articles about. Now it’s nighttime and you’ve just left a bar together. Companion to The Rest with No Sound

Christmas Cold | [g] | 1k | fluff

You and Katsuki manage to make it to your parents' house for the holidays, but you've come down with a little cold.

Doing Something Right | [e] | 1.8k | smut

You’re pregnant and happily enjoying domestic bliss when Katsuki comes in, unable to resist you.

Frustration | [e] | 3.1k | smut

request. After a long day of work, Katsuki comes home frustrated and you, suffering from a different kind of frustration yourself, know exactly what will help you both.

Gorgeous | [e] | 1.5k | smut, hurt/comfort

ask. When you have a negative response to Katsuki touching you in a moment of insecurity, he intends to do whatever he can to alleviate your fears.

version 1: petite reader

version 2: curvy reader

Magic | [e] | 2.2k | smut

request. Katsuki comes home early and catches you...taking care of yourself.

Miniskirts | [e] | 0.8k | smut 🌸

After a long day, Katsuki takes a shower and his thoughts turn to you.

On the Job | [e] | 4.5k | smut 🌸

Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just of porn and fantasy--they’re common and too often fall into the wrong hands. When heroes get hit, someone has to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be?

You.

The Rest with No Sound | [t] | 8.5k | slow burn, fluff 🌸

Bakugou thinks that people who wake up not remembering where they are are idiots. This is confirmed when it happens to him, head aching from a night of drinking. Idiot. But when he looks over, and sees you there, he realizes he doesn’t remember anything. So he has to gather the scattered pieces from the day before to figure out exactly how he ended up with you. Companion to Can’t Find My Breath

Stay | [g] | 2.2k | hurt/comfort 🌸

ask. The last thing you want to do on a rough day is worry Bakugou with your problems. So you try to hide it. You should have known better.

Steamy | [e] | 2.7k | smut

request. You're a pro hero, rising in the ranks and, happy though he is for you, Katsuki's old jealousy begins to roil. After you've been paraded around all evening as one of Japan's finest, Katsuki finds himself feeling more than a little possessive, and can't help himself from taking you as his.

Steel and Lace | [e] | 3.8k | smut

The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

endeavor x reader

When the Smoke Clears | [e] | 17.4k | slow burn, smut

Soulmate AU. After his battle with Hawks against Hood, Endeavor wakes up in the hospital to find that a young doctor saved his life, their quirk being able to counteract the negative effects of his own. His first thought is that he has to talk to you–you might be able to fix the drawbacks of his quirk. His second thought is oh no, not again.

iida x reader

Broken Glass | [g] | 1.8k | fluff, mild comfort

request. In a quirk-related accident you find yourself surrounded by shattered glass. Worst of all, most of that glass is from every single pair of your boyfriend’s glasses.

Flotsam, Jetsam, Lagan, and Derelict | [g] | 1.5k | hurt/comfort

ask. Trying to hide a panic attack from your boyfriend isn’t easy when he’s right next to you. But you’re determined to suffer alone.

kaminari x reader

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.4k | hurt/comfort

You share your unsteady hope with Kaminari.

kirishima x reader

Silhouette | [e] | 1.8k | smut, hurt/comfort

ask.  Before a gala, you’re stuck in the mirror, caught on all your old body insecurities. Kiri comes in and loves you regardless.

version 1: petite reader

version 2: curvy reader

We’ll See | [g] | 6.3k | gen, light romance 🌸

demisexual!Reader. After a fateful meeting, you and Kirishima keep running into each other. And although he’s so nice, you fear the fact that he might be interested in you. Even though all you want is, for once, to let yourself be happy and maybe fall in love, you can’t seem to be able to.

What We Look For | [t] | 15.5 | slow burn

Last time, you and Kirishima became friends—nothing more, nothing less. The idea of being something more sounds nice. But you can’t. You just can’t. So you won’t. Whatever happens will be on your own terms. Sequel to We'll See

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.4k | hurt/comfort

Kirishima freaks out while you experience a numb calm. You meet in the middle.

midoriya x reader

Bad Days | [g] | 1.4k | hurt/comfort

Izuku helps you get out of bed.

Sunlight | [e] | 2.1k | smut 🌸

request. An early afternoon in bed with your husband, Izuku.

Surprised, Just Once | [e] | 5k | smut

request. You were planning on just another predictable night out with the girls. What you got was much, much more.

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.3k | hurt/comfort

Izuku holds you close while you watch the results.

Multiple unrelated oneshots with Deku with an s/o with an eating disorder | ask

Gratitude | [t] | 1.4k | hurt/comfort

After having been with Izuku a while, you’re suffering a relapse and he helps you through with some gratitude practices on date night.

Picnic | [t] | 1.8k | hurt/comfort

Izuku surprises you with a picnic on your second date, much to your horror.

A Start | [t] | 1.2k | hurt/comfort 🌸

You ask Izuku for help when you realize you need it.

Trust Yourself | [t] | 2.3k | hurt/comfort

Shortly after moving in together, Izuku learns of your struggles and tries his best to comfort and encourage you.

shinsou x reader

Passing the Night Stars | [g] | 3.2k | hurt/comfort

The party was neon and you needed darkness.

2020 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.4k | hurt/comfort

Shinsou helps you prioritize yourself.

todoroki x reader

All Dressed Up | [e] | 4.6k | smut 🌸

quarantine fic. It’s been months since you’ve dressed up, felt pretty, and felt seen by anyone. Your husband’s birthday is a perfect excuse to get all dressed up. And then take it right off.

All the Wasted Time | [e] | 3.2k | smut, fluff

Three months ago, you’d been ripped from Shouto’s side with something less than a love confession, something more than a show of feelings. Now that you’re back, you’re eager to make up for lost time. Siberia sequel, First Snow prequel

Bad Days | [g] | 0.9k | hurt/comfort 🌸

Shouto comforts you when your demons arrive unexpectedly.

First Snow | [g] | 2.2k | fluff

A year after the events in Siberia, you and Shouto are happily together, and it’s the first snow of the year. Siberia and All the Wasted Time sequel

On the Job | [e] | 3.4k | smut 🌸

Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just of porn and fantasy--they’re common and too often fall into the wrong hands. When heroes get hit, someone has to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be?

You. Sequel to On the Job (Bakugou); can be read alone

Siberia | [e] | 13.8k | pining/angst, smut, fluff 🌸

On the field, you and Todoroki are rising stars amongst hero pairings. Off the field…you’re kind of in love with him. After a successful capture, you’re boss brings you in to let you know you’re being sent on assignment in foreign country…alone. Before you leave, you have to act. You’re not partners anymore, after all. And with a little liquid courage you do. Then, the next morning, you still have to leave. All the Wasted Time and First Snow prequel.

Worth it | [t] | 0.3k | gen

The morning after with your boyfriend, Shouto.

2021 Election Night Comfort | [g] | 0.5k | hurt/comfort

The stress of election day comes back swiftly during the Georgia runoff and Todoroki’s quick to notice.

all works below are within the world of the a spare heart series:

A series about a fem, American reader who had to transfer to U.A. partway through second year. You’re there to become a hero, that much is obvious, but why else did you come? And, more importantly, what—or who—makes you stay?

timeline

may, year two:

- reader finishes junior year of American high school early

- reader transfers to u.a. from the united states

The Meeting | [g] | 0.1k | gen

Reader meets Tokoyami for the first time. Sequel to first impressions from my wip list

Hollow Victory | [g] | 9.6k | gen, action

chapter 1 | chapter 2

You transferred to U.A. from America two weeks ago. No one has found out your quirk yet. Today, they’re going be meeting it head on and you have the advantage: surprise.

june, year two:

Illiterate | [g] | 2.1k | fluff, comfort

Being unable to read Japanese makes you feel so stupid. And who comes into the common room after midnight just as you’re about to cry? The boy who hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks.

sequels

The Offering | [g] | 0.4k | fluff, gen.

The Mission (Shouto POV) | [g] | 0.3k | fluff, gen., silly

september, year two:

Impetus | [g] | 2.1k | friendship

Ever since Shinsou found out what your quirk was, the two of you have been each other’s best friends and confidantes. But when he turns a casual training session into a tease over your supposed crush on someone in your class, that trust might just break.

january, year two:

This Clock Never Seemed So Alive | [g] | 1.2k | fluff, comfort

You and your boyfriend, Shouto, always walk to class together, but today you haven’t yet left your dorm. When he checks on you, he finds you awake, but curled on your side, suffering from period cramps.

sequels

The Questions (drabble) | [g] | 0.1k | gen.

The Sweetness (double drabble) | [g] | 0.2k | fluff, comfort

february, year three:

Between Fear and Guilt | [t] | 2.5k | light angst, comfort

You and Shouto only started being intimate a couple months back, but you’re already experiencing a dry spell. Today you’re going to figure out what’s up with your boyfriend once and for all.

fifteen years after graduation

Something Perfect | [e] | 3.7k | smut, fluff

After years of questioning if Shouto would ever want children, he’s finally decided that he really does. Overjoyed, the two of you decide to get started.

[remuslupinfest]

Remus Lupin Fest 2020 Master List (Anon)

We're pleased to release this years Master List of fics, sorted by ship and alphabetically! There's 38 incredible works! Author and artist reveals are next week.

GEN

TITLE: First Year SUMMARY: I hope whoever prompted this in the first place is happy with the result. I know it's super messy but I was experimenting a bit with my style!

TITLE: On Talking SUMMARY: Five conversations Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall have during Prisoner of Azkaban and one they do not.

TITLE: One of Many Happy Moments SUMMARY: Remus has only come back home from one of particularly typical days of teaching in Hogwarts, but he couldn’t refuse Teddy to read the book together

TITLE: Remus Lupin Sleeping Peacefully SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus sleeping peacefully.

TITLE: Tousled SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus wrapped in a sheet/duvet going to the bathroom or kitchen after having had sex with someone. Maybe someone knocks on the door and he can’t find his trousers. He’s flushed, tousled and possibly has a hickey or two.

REMUS/MISC

TITLE: A Heart Grows Warm SUMMARY: After the war, Remus is a single father and desperate for a job. Snape hires him to work in his potions shop, but Remus can't ignore the building sexual tension between them.

TITLE: Bad Moon Rising SUMMARY: James, Lily and Voldemort all died on Halloween night. Years later, Remus is working in the Auror Department on a confusing case of a transformed werewolf stalking a family outside of a full moon and is assigned a brilliant new Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, to work with him.

TITLE: Briseé SUMMARY: Death eater!Remus struggles to face his past after the death of his lover and the end of his freedom.

TITLE: Care to Share? SUMMARY: Remus had every intention of enjoying solidarity over the holidays. That may change now that he's not the only Slytherin staying behind.

TITLE: His Luck SUMMARY: Modern setting, model/photographer AU for Remus Lupin and Narcissa Black. Written for the Remus Lupin fest 2020.

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: One Night In Barcelona SUMMARY: The chemistry was too much to resist.

TITLE: Readjusting SUMMARY: When Voldemort murders Frank and Alice Longbottom, their baby survives. Meanwhile, Lily moves into a flat in Muggle London. Alone. With baby Harry and the cat. Remus helps.

TITLE: The Paths We Take SUMMARY: Lily Evans Lupin is a detective, though her husband Remus' name is on all the paperwork. He writes incredible tales while she solves mysteries. All seems normal as the Second World War ends, and Lily is hoping for peace and eventual renown for her talents legally attributed to Remus. Her and Remus' entire world comes crashing down once more as Sirius O. Black, Remus' first love, enters their agency, with one request: to find his missing brother Regulus, who joined the Nazis and hasn't come home. Can Lily find the missing Regulus? Can Remus face his heartbreak?

TITLE: You keep messing with my brain SUMMARY: The awful truth was that when he had noticed Regulus Black he couldn’t exactly look away anymore.

WOLFSTAR

TITLE: AMOR VINCIT OMNIA (love conquers all) SUMMARY: Remus, a servant boy to the cruel Emperor Voldemort, meets Sirius, a charming nobleman. Together they fight for freedom and love in Ancient Rome.

TITLE: An Endearing Portrait SUMMARY: At the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius fears that Remus’s mother and perhaps Remus himself, too, prefers someone else.

TITLE: Falling Into Place SUMMARY: There's always been something special about Remus Lupin, even if it's taken Sirius Black until his seventh year to realize it. Too bad he spends so much time agonizing over his changing feelings that he loses his chance. In which Remus acts like an idiot, Marlene is the snarky voice of reason, James is a mother hen, Peter is confused, and Sirius is seriously jealous.

TITLE: Fate and Other Ambiguous Notions SUMMARY: Truth be told, Sirius has never really paid much attention to Remus before... (Slytherin!Remus, Gryffindor!Sirius)

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: If You’ll Be Waiting SUMMARY: Remus gets the Information that Sirius is probably still alive. He goes on a road trip to Germany with Harry to find him.

TITLE: In the Throws of You SUMMARY: Prompt 178: Sirius has a track record for picking bad BDSM doms, but luckily Remus is always there to provide the proper aftercare he needs.

TITLE: Ivory and Gold SUMMARY: Sirius Black is all Remus has been looking for and more. A muse, an inspiration, a theme he never wishes to let go. He’s magnetic. And Remus lets himself be pulled in.

TITLE: Let the Awful Song Be Heard, Bluebird SUMMARY: Prompt: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. – Vita Sackville West In some ways, they are still Padfoot and Moony.

TITLE: making a fool out of myself (for you) SUMMARY: Sirius and Remus have been friends for years. However, unbeknownst to the other, both of them have a secret life working as a clown. Over the years, Remus and Sirius have competed against each other in the clown/birthday party circuit, becoming actual clown enemies of each other without knowing their true identities... until now, that is.

TITLE: Meet the Moonies SUMMARY: Remus introduces Sirius to his parents for the first time.

TITLE: Renewal SUMMARY: Remus and Sirius return to Remus's cabin together after the events of Harry's third school year come to a close. Remus decides that Sirius would be much better off with a haircut and some TLC.

TITLE: Sanctify My Body (With Pain) SUMMARY: When Remus leaves for what is essentially a suicide mission, Sirius finds himself grappling with the realities of a life where he doesn't know if the love of his life is dead or alive.

Perhaps the most confusing question in these situations is: which is worse?

TITLE: Siren songs SUMMARY: Sirius had heard of mermaids before, of course. They were all over the songs bards performed at his parents' table and the tall tales sailors traded in every port. He had never given much thought to whether or not the stories were true, though. Imagine his surprise when he and his best mates found themselves shipwrecked on an unfamiliar shore, with a breathtaking and mysterious merman for their only ally.

TITLE: Sweet Nuthin’ SUMMARY: When the summer between third and fourth year begins, Sirius expects it to be nothing but lazy days, harmless pranks with James, and the occasional meet-up with the rest of his friends from Hogwarts. Those plans go out the window rather quickly when he gets a sudden glimpse of Remus Lupin, a mysterious boy who changes everything about Sirius Black's life and shows him that love will always win in the end.

TITLE: Teddy’s Wedding SUMMARY: Teddy's wedding brings about memories of the past and hopes for the future.

TITLE: That Iron Taste SUMMARY: In the middle of a particularly bitter winter, a new attendee starts showing up in Father Black’s congregation. He is entirely unfamiliar and wholly arresting. In his wake there will be confusion, horror, heat, bliss, blood, and perhaps the end of reality itself.

TITLE: The Great Gay Pornstar Twitter Feud of 2020 SUMMARY: “So what I’m hearing is that you’ve got a date with your hot, clever, fellow porn-star twitter nemesis, of whom you once said ‘I’d rather die than let that pretentious knobcloud touch my dick’... is that about right?”

“... Yes.”

Or; Remus Lupin forgets to turn the fucking camera on.

TITLE: The King I Could Become SUMMARY: Prince Sirius of Nox has one thing he cannot stand. Or rather it should be said, one person. Prince Remus of Lupos. They had never gotten along well, though their kingdoms are close allies, but a disturbance in the lands has brought them together on a quest. They'll be able to take down this threat...if they can survive each other's presence first.

TITLE: The New Sailing Master SUMMARY: Sirius is a pirate, Remus is a fugitive, Remus manages to get a lift aboard the Blithering Idiot and it's love at first sight…

TITLE: Things We Can’t Say SUMMARY: Prompt 18: Angst during the first war, based on being on opposite sides. Trying to convince them to join the light side maybe, or accidentally injuring each other or close friends of each other.

TITLE: Thoroughly Debauched SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus riding Sirius in a chair

TITLE: To Admit What Is Not More Illegal SUMMARY: On Valentine’s Day in their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius tries to offer what Remus needs, and starts figuring out if he's ashamed of something, and if he is, what it is.

TITLE: You Would Be Calling Me Moony SUMMARY: A month after Sirius falls through the Veil, Remus starts seeing Sirius in his dreams. But they're only dreams...right?

[calif0rnia-lovers]

fake it ‘till you make it

chapter 1: you were mine first. 

summary: a trip down memory lane as Tre returns home to find his best friend dealing with the fallout of her divorce proceedings.

a/n: this chapter is really long. it’s essentially full of backstory. i didn’t want to post each part as its own chapter bc that would end us up with four short chapters. so...prepare for time jumps. kinda wanted to get the backstory out the way so that i can get into the good stuff. let me know what you think. i know it’s a reader fic but i just think aja naomi is so pretty that’s why you see her face :)

if there are typos bare with me. I forced myself to stop making changes and just posted it. songs are linked because i’m hella dramatic and moody when i write.

words. 8,960

2006: junior year in high school. (gif).

You say we're just friends but I swear when nobody's around You keep my hand around your neck, we connect

You're seated, alone, in the corner booth at Happy's Diner. The AP Calculus book and notes spread out across the table are the perfect repellants for teenage boys hoping to "keep you company" until your friend arrives.

Your friend who just so happens to be running extremely late. Halfway done with your second glass of soda kind of late.

Trevante comes strolling into the diner, pausing long enough to say hi to Happy before heading in your direction. Climbing over the booth, he slides in next to you.

"Sorry I'm late," he huffs as he settles in next to the window.

His arm drapes over your shoulder, as he reaches forward to drag your plate towards him. Keeping your focus on the problem you're solving, you blindly lift his left arm, turning it so that you can see the face of his watch.

"You are forty-eight minutes late." You shove his arm off your shoulder, it finding its place back to your shoulder instantly. "Why do you wear a watch if you don't know how to use it?"

"Why buy me a watch for my birthday if you know I can't use it?"

Trevante narrowly avoids the slap you send towards his hand, stealing a french fry and popping it into his mouth.

His neck rolls, a groan escaping his lips as you move the plate out of his reach.

"Come on, Y/N. I can't have any-"

"No. You can tell me where you were. What was so important you left me waiting for forty-eight minutes? I already ordered the dinner you promised me."

"You clocking me now?" His brow arches as he drags the plate across the table.

"When it affects me? Yes. Yes, I am."

Trevante lightly shrugs his shoulder before retrieving the ketchup. The fact he doesn't want to tell you causes you to lift his arm from over your shoulder.

Resting his arms against the table, he silently busies himself with cleaning your plate.

"Why can't we study at your place?

Trevante watched as your shoulders rise and fall, your brow furrowing as you reach in your backpack. You're willing to acknowledge his question isn't that strange. From the fifth grade, the two of you have always studied at your house. Your dining room table has years worth of homework sessions. When you entered high school, your study sessions had migrated to your bedroom.

Trevante could usually be found sprawled across your bed; arm tucked behind his head as he lounged on your pillows. While you were found seated on the floor, books and notes displayed neatly around you.  You would kill to be back in your room right now. Both of your giggles mingling with the latest playlist Trevante has downloaded on his computer. However, ever since your last study session, that doesn't seem like a great idea.

Your mind is still trying to make sense of what exactly happened. You were slightly hopped up on coffee, the late-night study session keeping you and Trevante up well past your parents. Trevante...was wired by something else. What exactly? You're not sure. He'd arrived at your place, hours before, in a shitty mood but refused to tell you why. You'd initially thought it was because you'd rejected his invitation to attend William Prescott's party because you needed to study. Trevante had gone to the party before meeting you. Whatever happened at the party had stopped him from being a semi-decent study partner.

You were used to the textbook attempts of avoiding his work. The television, conversations about something he'd heard in the locker room, etc. What you weren't used to was his fingers toying with your hair, or brushing against your thighs. His lips brushing against your shoulder.

You'd nearly caused him to break his neck on the stairs with how fast you got him out of your house that night.

You grip your eyes closed for a brief moment, an all familiar heat spreading across your skin as he studies your face.

"It's just, my mom...she said something about us having an open-door policy and raging hormones, and it just...weirded me out?"

"Raging hormones," he scoffs, his attention focusing on the problem you're finishing up. "Your mom thinks we're having sex? We used to take baths together."

Erasing your mistake, you try again. You don't respond until you've finished the problem. Sliding the nearly completed homework assignment in Trevante's direction, you pick up your soda.

"I know, that's what I told her. She seems to think guys became sex-crazed when they turn sixteen."

"It's earlier than that," Trevante teases as he looks over the work.

It takes him a moment to realize the assignment is his not yours. He'd given you the completed homework during third period.

"Can you look this over?" He'd asked, hastily placing a kiss against your cheek before starting down the hall after William. "I'll make it up to you tonight. Dinner at Happy's at seven!"

You'd marked up most of the assignment in red while waiting for his arrival. The fact he'd attempted to do the homework without your help leading to you redoing it for him to soften the blow.

Releasing a sigh of relief, Trevante grins in your direction.

"You're so fucking smart, Y/N. It took me all last night to finish that."

You wince as his grip tugs against your shoulder, pulling your closer. His lips briefly press against your cheek. Your giggles fill the air as a second kiss follows.

"Stop," you giggle, lightly pushing against his cheek you watch him place a kiss against your palm before returning your focus on the math problem to his homework. "Don't think compliments will get me to finish your homework for you. You're finishing the rest. Right now. I'm only helping you make the corrections from now on. I only fixed it early because I can't be here until ten again."

Trevante's eyes roll as he accepts the pencil you offer him. "I've got plays to remember. I don't have time to ace AP Calc."

"And I have an entire European History essay to finish when I get home, so focus."

You spend the next thirty minutes helping Trevante finish working through his assignment. By the time you're finished explaining his mishap in the last problem, he's got a headache, and you're on your second plate of fries.

"You got that?"

"Yeah."

"Tre?" You wince at the sigh escaping his lips. "You don't sound too convincing. Do you need me to explain it again?"

You look up to find him watching you. His brow furrowed.

"What do you think of Prescott?" Trevante asks.

Your brow furrows as you concentrate on finishing the remainder of your shake.

"Prescott? As in William Prescott? The quarterback?"

"Yeah."

You attempt to read his expression, but whatever is on Trevante's mind, he isn't giving much away.

"He's...nice? I don't know, Tre," You laugh. "I don't know him. I mean, he's spoken to me maybe...three times. Each of those times is because I'm with you."

William Prescott was hard to ignore. Even if you weren't acquainted with him, it was impossible not to know who William was. His father was mayor, his mother, a member of the school board. Not to mention William was captain and quarterback of your school's football team. You share two classes with William. The fact you tend to sit in the front, and him in the back, making it difficult for him to talk to you. You can't even remember the last time he looked in your direction, let alone acknowledged you.

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna try and ask you out."

Your eyes roll as you uncap the highlighter in your hand.

"Right." You snort.

Concentrating on highlighting the formula before you, you glance up when you realize nothing else has been said.

"He asked me if you were seeing anyone," Trevante responds, his expression unreadable.

"And? What'd you tell him?" You ask the urgency in your voice, causing Trevante's eyes to roll.

He shrugs.

"I said not that I know of."

You let his words sink in, your brow furrowing. You're not sure what to say to that. If there was anyone who knew about what was going in your life, it was him.

"Okay..."

"I mean...I told him you weren't really looking for him. I figured he wasn't really your type. He's the quarterback, and you're..."

You wait for him to finish, but he doesn't.

"I guess you're the only exception to my newfound hatred for jocks?"

Lifting his arm, Trevante didn't bother responding as you gathered up your belongings before heading to the door.

two weeks later.

You keep your hands out before you. With your palms an inch away from the vent, you struggle to keep your entire body from trembling. Your dress is clinging to your wet body, the fabric's weight adding to the uncomfortable sensation on your skin. The air pumping through the ten-year-old jeep is a struggle on a good day. Paired with pouring rain on a chilly October night, it seemed the old vehicle wasn't going to be up to the task.

The rustling alongside you isn't enough for you to open your eyes, or move away from the slowly heating vents.

Trevante continues rustling through his gym bag. He is in search of an extra set of clothes. The spur of the moment thunderstorm that had erupted at the end of the game left everyone unprepared. You were in the stands, only really attending to cheer on your best friend, so you hadn't brought an extra pair of clothes. With the downpour, exiting the stands was a disaster. You didn't want to twist your ankle running down the slick foundation. By the time you made it through the gates of the field, you had to trek up the hill to the parking lot. You had struggled against the crowd to reach Trevante's jeep. By the time he'd met you in the parking lot, you were soaked to the bone.

After retrieving his shirt, Trevante grabs his letterman jacket for good measure.

"All right," he huffs as he tosses his duffle into the back. "This is all I've got."

Tugging the wet dress over your head, you toss it into the backseat before gladly accepting the longsleeved shirt.

The initial stripping off your clothes left Trevante frozen. In his haste, he hadn't considered the idea you might have to undress to get warm. His eyes had widened, his gaze instinctively drifting down your chest to the light pink bra you wore. He pauses to admire how the light fabric contrasts against your skin. You are too busy struggling to tug the shirt over your head to notice. Clearing his throat, Trevante shifts in his seat before focusing on adjusting the radio.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into coming," you mumble as you slip your arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"You can use my jacket." Stealing a second glance in your direction, Trevante felt his shoulders relax once it became apparent you were decently covered. "It wasn't like you were doing anything anyway."

Shoving your arms through the sleeves of the jacket, you can't deny him a smile as a warmth passes over your body. The fabric is thick, capturing his scent. It feels as though its nearly twice your size.

"I was because, believe it or not; my world does not revolve around you, Rhodes."

"Right," he scoffs. "It's just boring when I'm not around."

Trevante glances apprehensively in your direction.

"So…" You wait for his sentence to be completed. When he doesn't speak, you glance across the car to find his thumb tapping against the steering wheel. "Will Prescott?"

A heat flushes over your skin at the mention of his name.

A light shrug rolls off your shoulder, your gaze diverting. "What about Will?"

"You're going out with him next week."

"Sounds like you already know the answer to that," you mumble.

The laugh that fills the car brings the heat to your face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Trevante shakes his head before shifting the car into reverse.

You reach forward pushing it back into park.

"No, hold up. What?"

He looks at you for a moment before releasing a deep breath.

"It's just...he's kind of a player."

"William Prescott, a player?" Now it's your turn to scoff. "He's the captain of the football team-"

"That should tell you-"

"Oh, so does that extend to you?"

Trevante smiles, motioning for you to finish your sentence.

"Besides, you didn't even let me finish. Will's the second smartest kid in our class, and I know that because I'm the smartest. He's the poster child of our town. You can't be a poster child, slutting it up without everyone knowing. I haven't seen him date anyone since freshman year."

"Yeah you're right...must just be locker room talk." Resting his head back against his seat, Trevante runs his hand over his face. "What'd you wanna ask me?"

Suddenly your motives for attending the game seemed stupid. You'd texted Tre before the game, asking if he could give you a ride home.

"I need a favor." Your text had read, followed by "A big one. However, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Ever."

"Depends on how many laws we break," he'd responded.

"It's…" Your voice tapers off as you concentrate on the working windshield wipers. "A terrible idea."

"A bad as you picking William Prescott over me?"

When his teasing isn't enough to make you smile, Trevante sits up.

"I'm not a cheerleader, Tre. I don't have guys lining up after me like girls do you. I don't want my first kiss to be with a guy I barely know."

"Look, Y/N, I was fucking around about Will. He's not that bad. Pretentious, but not a complete dick…" Trevante's eyes widen. "You want me to…"

Suddenly the idea sounds stupid, and you're backpedaling.

"It's just I mean, he's the quarterback. Also, I know guys talk and-can't you tell when someone's like inexperienced with that kind of stuff? I don't want that being the only thing he thinks about when he's kissing me-and then he goes back and tells everyone during "locker room talk." Next thing I know, the school newspaper will be publishing that I'm a virgin-"

"Whoa-chill," he chuckles, the smile on his face stopping you in your tracks. "Okay?"

You nod. Your gaze drops to your hands. You're almost sure the heat burning your cheeks is visible to him.

You reluctantly look at Trevante as his touch finds your chin.

His lips press against yours, pulling your eyes closed. It takes a moment for your body to respond. By the time your brain processes what is happening, his lips are gone. His eyes are on you.

"Relax, y/n." He chuckles, his tongue passing over his lips at the sight of the range of emotions flickering across your face. He gently brushes his thumb along the curve of your jaw. "I'm not looking to break your heart. It's just a kiss."

"Just a kiss. Right."

You nod, but the action only causes Trevante to laugh for a second time. He knows the wheels are churning in your head. That, just like every aspect in life, you are beginning to overthink.

"Relax."

"Easy for you to say, Cassanova. Besides I am-"

A squeal comes out mangled with a gasp as his hands find waist and he's pulling against you. He's lifting you into the passenger seat and resting you against his lap. Your hands find his shoulders, the urge to push some space between you the first thought that crosses your mind.

There isn't much space you can put between the two of you with the steering wheel behind you.

You blink. Meeting Trevante's gaze, you feel the pulse of your heart skyrocketed as his hands move from your waist to your lower back.

Sensing your tension, Trevante smiles softly.

"I'll let you take the lead. I know you're big on learning on your own."

Suddenly you're aware of your surroundings.

The smell of rain against your skin. The soap from his rushed shower. The tap of the rain against the window, and roof of the car. The feel of his jeans against your thighs. The sensation that rushes across your skin with each shift of his jeans against your skin when you move. The muscles of his shoulders beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. The slight spike of his heartbeat as your touch drifts to his chest. The rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath as he waits for you to kiss him.

Relax, Y/N. It's just a kiss.

When you blink, and your eyes lift to meet his, you find Trevante's gaze on yours. A tiny smile is on his lips, his head resting against the headrest. The sense of calm that seems to cover you from head to toe stems from the steadiness of his heart against your palm. His thumbs gently massage the outside of your thighs.

The sight of his growing smile causes one to spread across your lips in response. With a slight shake of your head, you place your hands along either side of his neck and lean in to kiss him.

His grip tightens around your waist, shifting your body forward so that you straddle him. Trevante's fingers are in your hair, keeping your lips pressed against his. The desire to feel as much of you as he can eliminate any remaining space between the two of you. Neither of you can keep track of who does what first. Who's tongue brushes against who's lips first, who's hands start to wander first, who's giggle melts into a groan as your hips shift instinctively against his.

Time seems to fall away as quickly as the rain.

His lips linger along the curve of your neck. The pain that had pulled a gasp of irritation from you, a few seconds prior, has been replaced by a much more addictive sensation. The kind that sends a shiver down your spine and digs your fingers into his shoulders. Your hips instinctively shift against his as the coolness of his breath fans the sensitive bruise forming against your skin. His lips press a kiss against the bruise, retracing their steps until they’re pressing against your lips suppressing your giggles.

The tap that echoes off the walls of the jeep causes you to jump. Your back pressed against the steering wheel, your heart skipping a beat as the horn fills the air. Trevante’s hands instinctively grip your waist, pulling you forward, steadying your body. He winces as your weight shifts, your hand pressing against his chest.

Through the damp window, you can make out a single figure. As if that isn’t enough to scare you, you realize the figure is surrounded by something much more frightening than a peeping Tom. The blending of red and blue lights flooding the car distorts the figure. A second tap, with the butt of the flashlight, against the glass follows.

“Don’t-” you catch Trevante’s wrist as he reaches to roll down the window.

“What? You think they’re gonna go away? We can’t exactly say we didn’t know they were there.”

The rain has stopped, leaving just the chilly October night air. You shiver against Trevante as he rolls the window down. There’s no point in climbing into the passenger seat, moving would only draw more attention to your current situation. Your face turns towards the passenger seat, Trevante’s hand lifting to shield his eyes as the flashlight floods the driver side.

Trevante blinks, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light residing on his face. His grip painfully tightens around your waist, his fingers attempting to send you a message, once he realizes who’s on the other end of the flashlight.

Your heart jumps into your throat as a man’s voice floats through the window.

“Game’s over Tre,” came a familiar voice. “You kids need to go ahead and clear out the lot. Take this somewhere else…Preferably with a condom, and off school grounds.”

Trevante nods quicker than intended. He clears his throat, his mind torn between focusing on hiding the fact you were half-naked in his lap and wrapping up the conversation so that he could roll up the window.

“Yes, sir.” He stammers, his weak smile arching the cop’s brow. “We’re – uh, we were actually getting ready to go grab some food. Kinda just lost track of time. But uh – we’ll go now. Sorry for the trouble.”

Trevante moves to roll up the window, but pauses as the officer rest his hand against the door. Cutting off the flashlight, he reaches in to clap Trevante on the shoulder.

“That was one hell of a game, kid” the cop whistled. “You’ve got some speed, son. Those boys from Eastside didn’t know what to do with yo-”

You grip your eyes shut as your father’s words come to an abrupt halt. His gaze lingers on the backseat, Tre’s eyes drifting shut once he remembers what’s in the back. Discarded in haste, your dress rested on top of his gym bag. The same dress your father had zipped for you this morning before you gave him a kiss and ran to catch the bus. You don’t have to turn and face to him to know that your dad’s shooting daggers into Trevante.

A shiver runs through your body as the door is yanked open flooding the jeep with the night air.

Pain shoots through your arm.

You wince as your dad’s grip tightens as he tugs you out the car. Your stomach flutters as nearly fall face forward towards the ground. Your dad pauses long enough to ensure both of your feet have planted before heading towards the awaiting squad car. You stumble forward as you struggle to match his much longer strides to prevent from tripping.

The initial shock is what allowed him to get you halfway to the squad car. But once you notice Ramos, his much younger partner hesitantly shrugging off the squad car, your heels dig into the ground.

“Dad, you’re hurting my arm –” You yank your arm back, the force causing your father’s grip to tighten. For a brief moment you both pause. The adrenaline from just a few moments before seems to have kicked into high gear as you meet your father’s gaze. “I can walk myself to the car.”

Trevante is already out of his jeep, partially afraid he might be drug out next. He watches you storm off to the car and takes a step in your direction. The more rational part of his brain tells him he should get back into his jeep and head home before your dad’s gun is out of its holster.

“Sir, I promise you, it’s not what it looks like-”

"Get your ass in the car, Tre."

It's not until you've slid into the back of the squad car, slamming the door as hard as you can for good measure, that Trevante realizes he was meant to join you.

Trevante hesitates. Pointing over his shoulder, he takes a step back towards the security of his jeep.

"Uh-my pop's will flip if I don't bring the car home."

"Don't worry about that," your dad smiles as he pauses to clap his hand on Trevante's shoulder. His grip digs into Trevante's skin, causing the young man to wince. "I'll explain it to him when I drop you off."

Once your dad is seated in the driver's seat, you lean forward, your fingers pressed against the grate.

"You're not going to let Ramos cuff me? Take me down to the station to prove a point?"

Your dad doesn't speak to you. Instead, he lifts his radio and shares that he's dropping two teenagers off at home.

In fact, he doesn't speak to anyone for the fifteen car ride home. He pulls up to the curb in front of your house and comes to a stop. You get out. You hop back as the squad car takes off. Driving past Trevante’s house, it does a quick U turn before speeding out of the neighborhood.

You take the front steps two at a time, not bothering to check if the door closes fully behind you. The last thing you need is for your mom to see you. You head straight to the shower, locking the door, and hoping no one will bother speaking to you. But as you cut off the light and head to your room, you know that is impossible.

You enter your room to find your mom seated on top of your bed, patiently waiting for you.

Your shoulders tense, your body bracing for the screams. But, your mom surprises you by quietly asking.

"Are you okay?"

"It's embarrassing. I wasn't doing anything-"

"That's not what your father told me." She interjects, your face falling into your hands. "He said you and Tre were...closer than usual."

You find yourself wondering if your father had recounted precisely how he'd found you.

"It was a kiss," you sigh. "Nothing else -- We didn't do anything else. We weren't going to."

"We're not surprised, sweetheart." Your mother's response causes you to blink in confusion. She was not lecturing you. She was using this opportunity to have yet another sex talk. "I mean -- your father is pretty surprised. But your father and I have had this conversation already. The two of you spend an awful amount of time together. You and Trevante have been friends for a while. You're both growing older, and your bodies are changing. He's noticing how your body's changing. You're noticing his-"

"Mom-"

"Your hormones are through the roof, your body might feel like it's hypersensitive around him. That's normal. You find yourself wondering if sex is as good as it looks on tv--"

"I don't need the sex talk again." You groan as you cross the room. Taking a seat beside her, you pick up your pillow before laying back. “And, what is it with you and hormones? This is the second time this week you’ve brought them up.”

Your mom doesn't quite believe you. "A mother’s intuition. The last time we had the sex talk, honey, you were a freshman. You weren't thinking about boys-"

"And I'm really not now," you mumble from beneath the pillow covering your face.

"Take that off."

You groan.

Doing as she says you allow her to tug against your hands pulling you up. Sitting against the headboard, you tuck your knees into your chest.

"Kissing can feel good. But it often leads to something more serious. I'm not as naive as your father. You can't stay a little girl forever. I just don't want you rushing into something you're not ready for. Or at least not with a clear head."

"Mom, I wanted to get my first kiss over with. So I'm not the only girl in the entire junior class that has never been kissed. Tre just did it as a friend. Nothing is going on between us. We're still best friends."

Your mom is silent for a moment. You feel nervous as her gaze studies your eyes before leaving your face. It feels like with just a look, she can visualize every moment from before, and what is to come. Heat races across your skin as you think of Trevante's lips against yours. It rushes to your thighs as her eyes find your neck. The place where his lips showed you that kisses didn't have to be on your lips to feel amazing. The place where your flesh was tender, bruised.

"Best friends still need to understand the importance of condoms." She smiles as your brows raise. You're not sure how you didn't notice it before, but she lifts the box of condoms from her lap. "You can't depend on a guy to have one. In fact, most will try and say you don't need them."

Noting your wide eyes, she says quietly. "It'll give your father more peace of mind if he knows you have these. Even if you're not planning on using them."

You take the box, tossing it towards the chair in the corner.

She gets up pausing long enough to press a kiss against your forehead.

"I think it might be best if Tre doesn't stop by for a while. At least until your father can cool down."

"Fine," you huff.

"Night sweetie."

You watch the door close behind her, listening to her retreat to her room. A few moments later, you hear her speaking to your father through the phone.

You get up, crossing the room. You retrieve the previously discarded box of condoms. Opening the top drawer putting the box of condoms inside. You're about to close it when you stop to rearrange the clothes inside. You cover the box from your sight. Pushing the drawer shut you take a deep breath.

You study your reflection in the mirror. You swollen lips, wide eyes. The bruise on your neck. You realize it won't be easy to hide it in tomorrow's heat. When you cross the room, you pause by the window. You realize Tre's curtains are open. The light in his room is on. From your windows, you can see directly into each other's bedroom.

No matter how many times you've shared this tidbit, Trevante doesn't seem to utilize the blinds. You tend to keep your blinds shut in the morning and after his return home from practice. Accidently spotting him walking around his room, stark naked in the eighth grade has made you overly cautious.

You are in the process of untying the string holding back your curtains when you realize he's moved in front of the window. From what you can tell, your father hasn’t done any physical damage to him.

Trevante tugs his shirt over his head lazily tossing it in the direction of his hamper. He pauses to release the breath he was holding. As he turns towards the window, you take a step to the side. Your breath hitches in your throat as you bump your elbow. 

He waits a moment. The light flooding from your bedroom making him hopeful you’ll check to see if he’s home. But you never do.

 two and a half years ago. (gif)

Catching my breath, pounding my chest

I’m loving you less, I need to confess.

What is it about firsts that the human brain loves so much?

It seems as though we always remember our firsts.

Our first kiss, the first time we heard our favorite song. The first time we felt an inkling of true love. We can remember everything down to what we were wearing, how fast our heart was beating, the weather. Everything. Down to the smallest of details.

When you're in love, being able to remember all of your firsts is a beautiful thing.

What about when you're no longer in love? When only one of you is still in love?

Suddenly, your firsts are different.

You begin to remember the first time you notice his lips felt different against yours. The first time his hand stops pressing against your lower back as he passes you in the kitchen for his morning coffee. The first time he stops whispering how beautiful you look when stealing a second kiss.

You remember the first time his phone lights up, illuminating the bedroom ceiling when he thinks you've dozed off. The first time he calls to tell you he's working late, so there's no need to postpone dinner. The first time dates that once seemed important only seem important when he is reminded of their significance. You even remember the first time you gave up on sending him reminders.

Most importantly, you remember the first time he tells you he isn't in love with you anymore.

It had come in your favorite restaurant: The Gold Eagle. William always took you there when he had news to share whether it be a promotion, the winning of a case, or when he wanted to renew your vows.

You weren't expecting any news in particular when he asked you to book a babysitter for Colby. Certainly not the end of your marriage.

The words had come abruptly -- or maybe it seemed abrupt to you.

How else would can you describe the shift in conversation from plans for your son's birthday party to not being in love anymore?

Abrupt. It is the only way to describe it.

When he'd first spoke the words, you didn't respond. Will had thought you hadn't heard him. Under the music and laughter surrounding you, he couldn't be too sure.

Will cleared his throat, shifting in his chair as he paused the action of cutting his steak.

"Did you hear me?" He'd asked. His brows knit together as he studied your face for any sign of acknowledgment. "Y/N."

You had heard him. Loud and clear.

Your mind concentrated on his word choice. It was meticulous.  There was a time when you loved that Will spoke that way. He never strung people along, or beat around the bush. He always told the truth, sparing someone's feelings came second.

You always knew where he stood, or so you thought.

"I don't love you anymore." Those were the five words that had come out of his mouth.

He hadn't said, "I'm falling out of love with you." He wasn't giving you a warning as to what might come. He was careful with his words because he knew you. He knew you were hoping he hadn't made his mind up. He wanted you to understand that there was no room for repairing.

There was a tiny part of you that was not shocked. That little voice, in the back of your mind, that has been whispering to you the last year. The tiny voice that has been telling you to trust your gut each time you doubted Will.

Reaching forward, you picked up the wine glass before you. Will's eyes observed as you downed the red contents of the entire glass.

He wiped at his mouth, his jaw tightening as you reach across the table for his untouched glass. He doesn't bother objecting as you down the entire glass of wine. He subtly waved off the young waiter approaching with a fresh bottle in his hand.

Will cleared his throat, sitting up in his seat.

"I've already drawn up an agreement. I believe you'll find that it takes both you and Colby into consideration."

He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket. He produced a white envelope.

"William-," you gasp, the air in your lungs escaping you for a moment.

For a brief second, the sound halts his passing of the envelope. He watched the welling of your eyes. His throat clenched as he tried to swallow.

"I don't want to fight you for anything. I told my lawyer that the money's not an issue."

"The money you got because I stayed home with your son? The money you earned being able to show up at all hours at the drop of your boss's hat because I put off getting my masters and furthering my career? Now you’re kicking me and your son out of my house --"

"I told my lawyer that the money's not an issue." He repeated. "I have opted to split it all, 50/50. I'll pay a set amount the first of each month. It will be enough to keep you and Colby comfortable. It will cover his tuition-"

"What do you want me to fix?" Your question had come out softly. The raised question pulled Will's eyes from the envelope. "I'll do anything you want. I'll-Please do not break up our family."

William knew this would happen. He knew that letting you down wouldn't be easy, no matter how much he tried. That is why he can't meet your eye as your plea hangs in the air. He can't watch you cry, his gaze returning to the envelope before him. The tears which blurred your vision are his one weakness.

As he watched you wipe at your eyes, Will found his confidence slipping away. He leaned forward and placed the envelope in the center of the table. He needed to present his out, needed to make the break clean. There was one piece of information he knew would make you take your previous plea back.

"She's pregnant," Will continued as you concentrated on finishing the wine in your glass. It takes a moment for his words to sink in. You blink, meeting his gaze. "She wants to keep it, and...so do I."

Suddenly, everything made sense — Will's insistence on hiring a  babysitter. There was a reason you were having dinner in a public place as opposed to the privacy of your dining room.

Will didn't want you to cause a scene, or at least knew you wouldn't. Not here.

"We can't have another kid right now, baby." You recited, the words halting his movements. "I'm swamped at the office. They're finally giving me a shot. I wouldn't want to leave you at home taking care of two kids just as I'm getting a break in my career."

Will shook his head. "I...It hasn't been right between us for months, Y/N. What's the point of staying together if we're drifting apart? Please don't say we need to stay together for Colby. I'm not leaving my son. But kids pick up on shit. No matter how good we are at faking it in front of him."

"Come on, y/n," he sighed as you glanced over your shoulder in search of your waiter. When you spotted the young man, you lifted your empty wine glass in the air. Will continued speaking the feeling he was digging himself into a deeper hole heavy against his chest. "This isn't a surprise to either of us-"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," you scoffed as you watched your hesitant waiter arrive. Sensing the tension between you and your husband, the young man quickly attempted to uncork the fresh bottle of wine. "I wasn't aware that my husband was fucking someone else while he was also fucking me-"

"Alexis and I-"

William watched your movements freeze.

The mentioning of the young paralegal's name seemed to break through the haze that had started forming on your mind.

"Could you be even more cliche? You fucked the office's teenybopper paralegal? And you got her pregnant? You could have just used a condom."

For a moment, William didn't react. He watched the range of emotions wash over your face. The frustration that morphs into disappointment. The resolution that forms as you reached forward taking the bottle of wine from the hands of the struggling waiter.

"He'll pay for it."

You removed the napkin from your lap, sitting it on the table. You picked up the envelope and shoved it into your purse. You're halfway to the door by the time Will can take out his wallet and pay.

The cold air hit you hard. The intake of fresh air causing your head to swirl. The burn of your chest and rush of your heart made the task of retrieving your valet ticket from your purse difficult.  

Once you found the ticket, you turned. The wind was knocked out of you as ran into a solid barrier.

"Whoa. You okay?"

Trevante caught his breath, his hands instinctively finding your waist to keep you from falling back.

You looked up at him, the recognization on his face causing his brow to furrow.

"Fuck," you groaned, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest.

The look on your face caused Trevante to ignore your request of space; his gaze drifted over your shoulder in search of an explanation.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, the warmth of his hands finding your cheeks. His grip was firm, forcing you to stop your attempt to turn your face away.

You shook your head; your eyes gripped closed.

"I can't see you right now. You of all people. I cannot handle seeing you right now."

"Are you okay?"

Will's grip found your right elbow, his touch seeming to snap you out of it. Wiping at your eyes, you allowed him to guide your body closer to his.

"It's all good, man," Will smiled as he watched Trevante reach out to take your left hand.

"You sure?"

With one look, William knew he was not the one the question was directed to.

His weight shifted forward as Trevante takes in the scrunching of your nose. He knows the action very well. He knew that the silent breaths you take are an attempt to stop the tears in your eyes from spilling over.  But you also won't meet his gaze.

"Yeah, look, man. Y/N just had too much wine." Will chuckled as he retrieved the bottle from your hand. "I figured it'd be best she finished this one at home. You know how she is. Could never keep up with the guys."

You wrapped your arms around your waist, your eyes remaining on the ground before you as Will draped your jacket over your shoulders. You nod.

"I'm fine. Just ready to go home."

Trevante was thrown by how fast your entire demeanor had changed before his eyes. The tears were gone, along with the shaking of your voice. He almost thought he'd imagined it.

Before Trevante could respond, Will had led you back towards the valet. He helped you into the passenger seat, pausing long enough to give Trevante a wave before walking around the back of the car and getting into the driver's seat.

2019: this morning.

Concentrating on your son, you smile as Colby absentmindedly toys with the phone in his hand.

The headphones resting over his curls, obstruct any sound or conversations you don't want him to hear. After your reunion, he'd climbed into your lap to watch an episode of  Teen Titans.

You're both seated outside of the courtroom, patiently awaiting your turn. The clock on the wall, states you have five more minutes until your lives officially change.

They have changed steadily over the past few months, more noticeably for you than Colby. It took a while for him to understand that his dad was no longer living with you. William tried to stay present. He saw Colby more than you initially thought he would. The two of you alternate pickups and drop-offs at school. William stops by to share dinner with the two of you on Sundays, taking Colby to eat with him and Alexis twice a week.

When he's feeling up to it, Colby spends a week with his father. Usually, he opts for weekends. He hasn't warmed up to Alexis yet. Or their daughter.

Today is the first time you've physically held your son in two weeks. William had taken him to Atlanta to visit his parents for their wedding anniversary at the start of summer break.

"Thanks for letting me take him."

Instinctively, your eyes leave your Colby to find Alexis.

She is waiting beside William's lawyer, by the courtroom doors. She is cradling their daughter, Lola, in her arms. Although William's lawyer is speaking to her, Alexis's attention is focused on you.

"He is your son."

"I know, Y/N." William takes a deep breath. He releases it before adding. "I know two weeks is a long time, and you didn't want him to go...so thanks. It meant a lot to my parents."

You nod before looking in his direction.

"I'm shocked Alexis didn't show up with balloons, streamers, a "bride to be" sash, save the date cards...a marriage license for the judge to sign after she notarizes the divorce decree."

Your words harden William's jaw, his gaze sinking to his lap.

"We haven't spoken much about it," he breathes, but the wiping of his palms against his pants legs begs to differ. "We're still trying to settle in with Lola."

"But you have talked about it."

"She wants it to happen sooner than later."

"Well, you can come back here tomorrow and make it official. As of today, you are officially free of me, Mr. Prescott."

Most of the court proceedings are a blur — stipulations, and compromises going in one ear and out the other.

You didn't need to focus in on the words. You'd memorized that divorce agreement front to back. It's impossible not to when you've found yourself crying over it as many times as you have the past few months.

Many of those tear-filled nights, when you'd settled for a glass of wine over blowing William's brains out, you'd thought of calling your lawyer. She and everyone who learned the details of your split urged you to file under claims of adultery. It could increase the amount of child support and alimony, but it wouldn't give you any satisfaction. Your mother didn't care about satisfaction. She wanted you to hit William where it hurt, or at least where it would hurt Alexis the most, in his pocket. But you didn't.

It when you are having a lasting doubt about your decision when a slight nudge comes to your side.

Looking up, you find the judge's expectant gaze on you.

"Mrs. Prescott, would you like to keep your last name?" She asked for a second time. "You have the option of remaining a Prescott, or returning your legal name to that of your maiden."

"Um..." Alexis's brows shoot up at the hesitation. She leans over, whispering to William. He looks away from you long enough to respond to her. Keeping his last name had never crossed your mind, for more than a few brief seconds. It always seemed unimportant compared to ensuring you were financially stable for Colby. "I would like to keep it, your honor. It's the same as my son's."

William nods, his reaction falling on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Alexis's.

"Mrs. Prescott will keep her legal name," the judge noted. "As of today, upon the signing of the presented documentation, from both parties, your divorce will be finalized."

William meets your gaze. His fingers gently ruffle Colby's hair. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against your son’s forehead. He finds himself reaching out to wrap his arm around you, his arm giving you a gentle squeeze. He accepts the pen offered to him by his lawyer. William’s hesitation catches the attention of his fiance, but not yours as you place a kiss against Colby’s cheek.

"To new beginnings," his lawyer smiles, squeezing William's shoulder. The pressure a mixture of reassurance and urge causing WIlliam to remove the cap before leaning over the document. 

"Yeah...new beginnings."

2019: later on in the day. (gif)

"Do I have to wear this?"

Tugging against the collar of his shirt, Colby attempts to undo the top button. The light green polo button-down was one of the many gifts found in Colby's suitcase, courtesy of William's parents. Each time he visits them, they send him home with an entirely new wardrobe.

He needs to start dressing like a young man, Y/N. William's mother would always say.

"Yes," you sigh. Taking a step forward, you ring the doorbell for a second time before moving back to stand alongside your son.

"Daddy's always making me dress like this," Colby huffs, giving the collar another tug. "I hate dressing like this."

"It's because you look so handsome," you gently tease. "If I unbutton it, will you feel better?"

Nodding, Colby allows a grin to slide across his face as you kneel down before him. Undoing the top button you watch him release a dramatic sigh of relief.

"Hold on, let me get my glasses. I believe my eyes are deceiving me. Y/N Prescott?" Stepping onto the front porch, Trevante's father joking adjusted the frames resting on his nose. "I can't remember the last time that husband of yours let you come down to this part of town. Last time I saw you, you definitely weren't this tall, little man. How are you, Colby?"

"Good, sir. Thank you for asking." Bouncing his weight against his heels, Colby pauses long enough to shake the hand offered to him. He attempts to take a step inside in search of the children's laughter from inside the house. But you catch his shoulder causing him to stay put.

Mr. Rhodes looks over your shoulder, his gaze scanning the street.

"Speaking of husband's, where's yours? I wish I could say I've forgotten what he looks like, but his face is all over town now that he's made partner at that law firm. What is called now?"

"He couldn't make it." Offering up the platter of brownies in your hand, you feel your shoulders relax as his attention shifts to the snacks. "I made your favorite."

Lifting the lid, Mr. Rhodes sneaks a brownie out.

"Go ahead and takes those in, sweetheart. You know the way. Let's not tell, the misses that I had one."

"Your secret's safe with me."

You keep your free hand on Colby's head as you make your way inside. He knows he must stay at your side until he delivers the gift for Trevante's mom.

With each step, you find you're surprised how familiar the house feels despite the number of years since your last visit.

The music blasting outside is muffled by the shut screen door leading to the back yard, and the laughter and voices coming from the kitchen.

Nearly all of the wives and mothers from the neighborhood are in the kitchen, ducking under and stepping around one another as they balance different plates and bowls. You remain off to the side, suddenly feeling out of place.

Trevante's mother spots Colby first, her squeal of excitement pulling a shy grin from your son.

"Colby Andrew Prescott, my angel!" Scooping him up, she quickly places a kiss against his cheek before stopping to give his face a good once over. "You have gotten so big! And so handsome, just like your father. I've missed you. Both of you!"

Pulling you into a tight hug, his mother places a quick kiss against your cheek.

"Can you be an angel, and take these out to Tre? We're running behind with the food."

Before you can respond, Trevante's mother has replaced the platter of brownies with a plate stacked high with hamburger patties.

She gives you a gentle push towards the back yard, leaving you no room for opposition.

When you'd gotten the call from her, a few days prior, you thought it was a mistake. Trevante was coming home, and she was inviting everyone in the neighboorhood to stop by the house. Your initial plan had been to not show. It wasn't as though the two of you were that close anymore. Surely no one would notice if you didn't attend.

Maybe that's why you pause in the doorway when you spot him across the deck.

He's peppering playful kisses against the cheeks of his niece. Her giggles fill the air as he catches her fingers before her lips before pressing a final kiss against her forehead.

Placing her down, Trevante picked up the tongs before removing the hot dogs from the grill.

"Can I have two of those?" Colby asks as he stops at your side.

"You can have as many as you want," Trevante chuckles as he takes a step in your direction. "Man, you've gotten big, kid."

Colby nods, his smile growing as he tilts his head back for a better look at Trevante.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

Smiling, Trevante squats down before Colby.

"How old are you now? Five?"

"No!" Colby's laughter fills the air as he rolls his eyes. "I'm eight. I turn nine in fourteen days."

"Fourteen, huh? I better start looking for a gift."

Colby's eyes widen at the offer, his head tilting back to meet your gaze. "My momma has the list...if you need help."

"Alright. I'll get a copy. Up top." Trevante winces as their palms collide, shaking his hand out. "Take it easy on me, lil' man. I'm not as strong as you anymore. How 'bout you go play for a bit. Work up that appetite?"

Lightly ruffling his hair, you watch as Colby takes off the yard towards the other kids. Your focus remains on him for a moment. When you look back to Trevante, you find his gaze on you.

He accepts the plate of patties you offer him, his gaze remaining on your face causing you to redirect your attention.

He knows the source of your gaze's redirection is him, but he doesn't look away. He finds his mind picking up on the visible changes you present. It seems now that you're in one another's presence, it occurs to Trevante the last time you were this close to him was two and a half years ago.

Placing the plate aside, he reaches into the nearby cooler.

"Want a beer?"

"Uh, no, thank you." You look up, watching as he twists the cap off of his bottle before taking a sip. "I'm Colby's designated driver. We're going to get ice cream later, so...lemonade for me..."

The heat on your skin causes you to point over your shoulder. "I'm actually supposed to help your mom. So, I'll see you later -- when I come back for the burgers."

"Okay." Trevante smiles. The passing of his eyes over you for a second time causes you to take a step back. "Look, don't be stranger. I don't want another two years to pass before you give me more than five words."

You nod. It takes you a moment to realize you haven't spoken. When you do, you manage an, "Okay."

There is a silence that rests between the two of you for a brief second.

"Just uh...come find me. Colby and I are at my parent's old house."

Trevante nods, his brow furrowing as his eyes linger on your bare ring finger.

"I know the one."

Turning, you start back towards the house but pause as you near the door.

Biting your lip, you release the breath weighing against your chest.

"Tre." At the sound of his name, Trevante glances back. You wait until he turns to face you to speak. Your gaze falls to your shoes. "What did my dad say to you that night?"

It was a question you found yourself pondering more frequently as of late. One you'd never mustered the courage to ask when the first shift in your relationship occurred.

His silence makes you think he's having trouble remembering what night you're speaking of. You had nineteen years worth of consecutive nights spent together to catalog.

When you look up, you find his gaze is across the yard. A soft smile is on his lips. Lifting his beer to his lips, Trevante takes a sip before taking a step back.

He meets your gaze before smiling, "these should be done in about twelve."

Taking a second step back, he turns and focuses on laying out the fresh patties across the grill.

..... to be continued .......

tags:  @chaneajoyyy @kemkem101 @l-auteuse @doublesidedscoobysnacks@ghostfacekill-monger @blackpinup22 @blkroyalltea @essaysbyciara@wakanda-inspired @eyestheyseeyou​ @hufflepuff-ish​

[lizartgurl]

I wish you would write a fic where Emma’s celebrates her first birthday at the manor

ANDI I LOVE THE NEW ICON IT’S MAGICAL

And this…this got way too long.

Mary and John Grayson were murdered on April 1, 2006. A little over a month later, on May fifteenth, Emma Mary Grasyon, her mother’s namesake, was supposed to celebrate her twelfth birthday in a place that was still strange, where the only family to celebrate with her was her little brother. Neither of them were in a mood for celebrating.

Emma woke up that morning with eight-year-old Richard snuggled against her, squeezing the life from his plush elephant, Zitka, named for their elephant friend from the Circus. She had been a “Welcome Home” gift from Mister Bruce, an attempt to make the vast and empty Wayne Manor feel more alive. 

Emma had lion of her own, named Simba. The circus had tigers, but not lions, so her little friend was named after the Lion King who also had to witness his father falling to his death. 

Emma tossed Simba across the room, he softly hit the door and fell to the floor as Alfred the Butler opened it.

“I assume Master Richard had another nightmare?” He asked quietly.

Emma nodded, slowly sitting up. Being called “master” or “miss” was still something she was getting used to.

“Then I will bring his uniform in here and make sure to keep the pancakes warm. I believe it would be best to let him sleep for now.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed, and made her way over to the wide expanse of a vanity, brushing her back into a ponytail, just as she always did.

Alfred didn’t leave, dusting off Emma’s school uniform that had been pressed and set out on her desk chair the night before.

“Did you sleep quite well last night, Miss Emma?” He asked.

Emma snapped the elastic into place, “Just fine,” She assured him.

“If I may,” Alfred pulled a burgundy red ribbon from his pocket, carefully tying a bow around her ponytail.

“Happy Birthday, Miss Emma,” He gave the young girl a soft smile beneath his perfectly groomed mustache.

Emma made the effort to smile up at the old butler. “Thanks, Alfred.”

Thirty minutes later, Richard was running down the stairs, struggling to straighten out his school uniform as he sprinted to join Emma, Bruce, and little ‘Bella at the breakfast table.

“Morning, Champ,” Bruce said, not looking up from his paper. Emma noted that he was reading an article by Clark Kent, one of his friends, about the ridiculousness of the argument of “Batman versus Superman.”

“What’s he say?” Emma asked. Richard punctuated her question by piling tons of whipped cream onto his stack of pancakes, already drenched with syrup. Five-year-old Annabella watched Rick’s experiment of how high he could pile the cream before it fell over with wide brown eyes.

Mister Bruce grunted, “That Batman and Superman would work better together than fighting.”

Emma gave a “huh,” slowly chewing her strawberries and pancakes.

“I bet Superman would win.” She said, taking another bite. Bruce raised an eyebrow in her direction.

“No way!” Rick declared, already standing on his chair. “Batman has all those gadgets and stuff! And he’s smart! He’d find a way to stop Superman!”

“But why would they be fighting?” Annabella asked, forgoing the fork and eating her pancake with her bare hands. Alfred rushed forward with a damp cloth to stave off the syrup.

“That’s a good question, sweetheart,” Bruce leaned forward to kiss his daughter’s forehead, “But you are right, Richard, I bet Batman could take Superman down if he really had to.”

“Well,” Alfred interjected, “I happen to think that Superman could whip Batman’s tush if he so desired.”

Emma, Richard, and Annabella burst into laughter. As if Alfred’s accent weren’t already perfect, the way he said “tush” was still hilarious to a couple of kids.

“Okay, okay, I guess they probably wouldn’t be fighting in the first place,” Bruce stood up to help Alfred clear the dishes, “In fact, there’s been talk that they’re going to start a team with some of the other heroes.”

“Like Wonder Woman?” Emma gasped.

“And Flash?” Richard asked through a mouth of whipped cream.

“And the other heroes who helped them with that alien invasion a couple months ago. Now chew with your mouth closed, champ, and hurry up, we gotta get you two to school.

-

Middle School would have been absolute Tartarus for “charity project” Emma Grayson if it weren’t for Bette Kane, Bruce’s cousin and heir to her own fortune. Emma giggled as Bette stood up in the middle of social studies to give a five-minute rant about how the myth of Medusa was just a bunch of Greek men with their togas on too tight projecting all their fears onto a woman and how that was still evident in today’s society. The teacher was stone-faced for ten minutes while the class applauded her.

“Alfred told me it was your birthday, today, so I brought cupcakes!” Bette said at lunchtime. They were huddled in their own corner of the courtyard, no one was going to bother them here. There weren’t any candles allowed on school grounds, but Bette sang her the “happy birthday” rendition from Emperor’s New Groove, and Emma had another reason to laugh, though she regretted that the chocolate cupcakes Bette brought tasted nothing like Aunt Kayla’s birthday cakes.

Not even Rick had wished her a happy birthday, she sighed as the three Wayne children arrived home from school to an empty manor. Bella, still in kindergarten, ignored her homework in favor of the gardens, and since Rick was still in elementary school and summer break was fast approaching, he followed. Alfred went with them to supervise after making sure that Emma was content in the Manor’s library with a plate of milk and cookies. 

Emma soon abandoned her boring few assignments, scouring the shelves for anything interesting to read. Her eyes fell on a copy of “The Mask of Zorro,” novelization. It sounded only slightly more interesting than “Pride and Prejudice”, but it seemed that it didn’t want to come off the shelf. 

With a yank, she managed to pull the book forward, but not completely off the shelf. The floor beneath her feet shook, and that section of the shelf crawled forward, just enough that it could slide in front of another section.

Right behind the shelf was a cool, dark staircase, illuminated with tiny blue lights, curving down and out of sight.

She jumped back, unable to process this discovery, and a few minutes, the shelf returned to its proper position with a loud cranking noise.

She turned and ran from the library. 

Alfred was in the kitchen, patching Annabella’s knee, so Emma ran straight for Rick, lining up sticks and pebbles to create his own version of Gotham city.

“Richard! You gotta come see this, now!” It only took minimal dragging to get Rick all the way to the library, but a lot of cajoling to get him to stand right there and be patient while she found the right book. Then, he was the one dragging her down the stairs to see what was hidden at the bottom. Emma was the only one of them who noticed when the door shut behind them. With no apparent way out, she followed Rick to the bottom.

“Woah,” Rick gasped as the stairway opened up into a cavern. Stalactites still hung from the top, interspersed with small groups of annoyed, fluffy bats, but the stalagmites on the floor had been cleared for catwalks, computers, suits in display cases, a giant playing card, and a giant mechanical dinosaur, of all things.

“This is awesome!” Rick shouted to make his voice echo with the dripping water.

Emma had a sneaking suspicion that they shouldn’t be there, and tried to back up, only to run into a wall. But it wasn’t a wall. She turned, and it was Bruce, glaring down at the both of them, arms crossed over a giant, black, Batman symbol on his chest.

“You’re him,” she squeaked. 

“Batman!” Rick gasped. 

Bruce just sighed, “I didn’t think you would be home from school yet. Get back upstairs, both of you.”

“What? Why?” Rick whined.

“Because I’m Batman, and I said so.” Bruce growled.

Richard glared at Batman’s cape as he sashayed away, confident that was enough to make them obey.

“You can’t make me, you’re not my dad!” He ducked under Bruce’s arm and swung from one catwalk to the next, deftly balancing on the rails as he rain, taking shortcuts a grown man like Bruce couldn’t hope to achieve, even if he was Batman.

As out-of-place as she felt, Emma was curious, about the cave, and about her foster father being Batman. He had been there the night that her family died. Why didn’t he save them? Batman was supposed to be a detective, wasn’t he? So why didn’t he stop Mister Zucco? 

Inflamed by a sudden bout of anger, Emma leaped up onto the railing, copying Richard as she ran after Bruce. She landed on his cape for a moment, enough to distract him from grabbing Rick, and then leave him confused over which child to catch first. That gave her enough of a lead to make it to his giant computer.

Bruce caught Richard fairly quickly, a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder as he steered him to where his sister was waiting, but not quite hiding. He was a little ticked to find Emma sitting in his favorite chair- the only chair in his hideout, as a matter of fact- in front of the computer, eyes narrowed and arms folded tightly.

“You know where Zucco is,” She accused coldly, the GPS on display for all to see on the screen behind her.

Bruce couldn’t find an answer as Richard looked up to him, shocked and hurt.

“You were there that night,” Emma stood up, rigid and shaking, “You could have stopped him, and you didn’t. And now Mami, Tati, Aunt Kayla, and Jonny are dead, and Uncle Joseph is paralyzed for life.”

“You’re right,” Bruce admitted, which surprised both Graysons, “I could have stopped Zucco and his men, and I didn’t. I doubted that Zucco would do something so bold in plain sight, and it cost your family their lives.”

Emma’s eyes stung and Bruce released his grip on Richard and took her by the shoulders, kneeling in front of her. “That’s why I took you two in, because I know what it’s like to lose your family, and because I promised myself that I was going to stop Zucco from ever doing something like this again.

Richard sniffed loudly, and Emma wiped her own tears with the hem of her school jacket. “Let us help you,” She begged.

“No,” Bruce said with finality. He stood up, pulling Batman’s familiar cowl over his face. “You two stay here. I’ll take down Zucco and be back in time to tuck the two of you and Annabella into bed.”

Still, Emma and Richard persisted, following him down to the “Bat-Mobile, waiting on a rotating platform to shoot off in any direction at a moment’s notice. 

“You two can’t get involved with this,” Bruce insisted, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So was the acrobatics we did at Haly’s.” Emma huffed.

“No. Now get upstairs before I call Alfred,” the top of the Bat-mobile slammed shut, and shot off through the waterfall that concealed the cave’s entrance from the rest of Gotham.

Emma’s hands shook. She didn’t care if Bruce was really batman or Wonder Woman or whatever. Tony Zucco had killed her parents, and she wasn’t going to stand by and let him hurt anyone else, either.

“Emma,” Richard said quietly, “Do you know where Alfred put our old costumes?”

Emma knew her little brother was thinking what she was, and as she grinned at him, her eyes landed on a couple spare masks and sheets of kevlar, just big enough to be called a cape.

-

Batman caught Zucco and his men breaking into the Graysons belonging left in storage under Joseph Grayson’s name. When he woke up, he was strapped to a spinning target on the grounds previously occupied by Haly’s circus. You could still see some of the darkened dirt where the Graysons had fallen. Zucco was throwing knives at him with reckless abandon, while his men watched and laughed. 

“Look out, Batman!” Zucco cackled. Another knife flew through the air, aimed for his heart, but something knocked it to the ground. A dull batarang, one he’d left behind at the cave for Alfred to sharpen.

“Excellent shot, Miss Grayson,” Alfred’s voice manifested over his comms a moment later, as one of Zucco’s thugs had his feet yanked out from beneath him, and another was struck with a batarang to the shoulder.

“Alfred,” Bruce growled so that Zucco couldn’t heard over the sudden commotion.

“I’m afraid that they insisted, as you typically do,” Alfred quipped. “And I can’t very well quarantine all three children in the house at once.”

Bruce rolled his eyes as Emma Grayson, golden wings splayed across her red tunic top, eyes hidden behind a mask, and protected by a yellow skein of kevlar, sliced away the rope holding back his hands.

“Thank you,” He grunted, crouching to the ground. His belt had been stolen, but he grabbed a knife from the target board. With a flick of his wrist, it knocked the fedora clean off Zucco’s head.

Out of Batarangs, Richard and Emma each grabbed a couple knives that had nearly killed Batman to fend off the thugs that were now running at them.

Then Emma saw the gold dangling from Zucco’s pocket. Her mother’s necklace, a robin on a branch, made from solid gold. A Wedding present from John to Mary. She screamed with fury, using her knife to slice the hand Zucco was using to reach inside his coat for another knife. She went for his face next, but it was Batman who grabbed her wrist, blocking her from Zucco, who lay whimpering on the ground.

“He deserves it!” She spat, “He killed them!” 

Bruce kicked Zucco in the face with his heavy boots, down for the count as he gripped Emma’s arms tightly.

“It isn’t up to us to decide who lives and who dies. That’s how they think,” He nodded to Zucco, then to his men, who had been casually taken out by a few easy flips from junior acrobat Rick.

“Emma,” Bruce tried again when she refused to look him in the eyes. “Would your parents want you yo give in to your anger, to go down a path that’s very hard to return from, just for them?”

Lip trembling, Emma shook her head, and threw her arms around Bruce, sobbing. Rick joined them a moment later, also crying. 

They watched from a distance a few minutes later, as Commissioner Gordon arrived to arrest Zucco’s gang for murder, and thievery. Emma absently traced a heart in the dirt with her toe, holding Richard’s hand.

“I’m proud of you,” Bruce said as the police caravan drove away, “Both of you.”

He drew something from the pouch of his retrieved utility belt. “I believe that this belongs to you,” He held out Mary Grayson’s robin necklace to Emma, securing it around her neck.

“Happy Birthday, Emma.”