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#tom and drew oh we going to paris
ihe4rttwd · 21 days
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tom holland and drew starkey!!!! AWWWW BESTIES 😭🤍
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ravennm84 · 3 years
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Of Moldy Bread and Cockroaches
I’ve seen a few fics where Lila reports the bakery to the health department and then plants bad pastries and pests just as the inspector arrives and gets the bakery shut down. I started wondering, what would happen if she got caught doing that? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!
Lila kept watch as she waited for the health inspector to finally arrive. She had made multiple fake reports about the bakery over the past week to get someone to come out, but no one had come yet. And she had found the perfect spot to make sure she saw the man arrive, too! She was in disguise in the park, on a bench that had a clear view of the bakery entrance, the side entrance that went to the Dupain-Cheng home, and still let her stay hidden. She didn’t have to worry about school at the moment since her stupid class and teacher thought she was visiting the royal family in Spain, and her gullible mother thought school was out for another akuma attack. Both of which gave her an alibi so no one would suspect her when Maribrat and her goody-goody parents were humiliated and lose everything.
She was almost too distracted by her daydream of Marinette crying and homeless to see a very professional looking man step out of a taxi in front of the bakery. He looked at the display with a very critical eye before writing some things down on his tablet. That had to be the health inspector she had been waiting for. Once she saw him entering the front, Lila hot footed it to the side entrance to sneak in. 
The door was locked, but she had come prepared with a lockpick set she had gotten a couple years ago. It was really too easy to get inside. In fact, it had been much harder to get the fake evidence she would need to shut the place down. She discovered while going through the dumpster for old pastries that the bakery didn’t throw away much of anything. They sold out most of the time, and the things that didn’t were donated to a local homeless shelter. It took three days of dumpster diving to find anything, which ended up being a single batch of croissants that had burned in the oven. Heck, collecting some cockroaches from a restaurant dumpster down the street had been easier; albet, a lot more disgusting.
Once inside, Lila crept towards the door as she heard Mme. Cheng speaking to the man. He was, in fact, the health inspector. A malicious grin stretched across her face as she put the first moldy croissant on the counter next to the-
“What are you doing here?” A deep voice growled behind her.
Lila froze for a moment, suddenly realizing that she had heard Mme. Cheng speaking with the inspector, but not M. Dupain. She couldn’t let herself get caught! She was facing away from him and he hadn’t seen her face yet, so there was still a chance. Grabbing the first thing she could, she didn’t even look to see what it was, she swung it around at the towering man before trying to run past him. 
Despite hearing him curse in pain, Lila didn’t make it two steps before the man grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and lifted her off of the ground. She swung her object at him again, only for the enraged man to grab her wrist and twist, forcing her to drop it with a shout as it clanged to the floor. 
The noise drew Sabine and the inspector to the back where they say Tom holding Lila off the ground. Furious and still trying to escape, she tried kicking at him only for him to release her wrist, grab her ankle, and then release her jacket so she was hanging upside down. More items hit the floor as her hat fell off, a couple of croissants and the tupperware container of cockroaches fell from her pockets, and landed next to a bloody knife…
Uh-oh.
Looking up, she saw that his right arm was bleeding from where she had slashed him with the knife, which had her fingerprints all over it. She was going to be in so much trouble unless she could think of a way out of this!
“What happened, Tom?” Sabine asked, worried when she saw her husband’s bleeding arm and was slightly confused by the girl hanging upside-down in their kitchen. It took a moment before she seemed to recognize Lila as the girl that had gotten her daughter expelled a few weeks before.
“I was coming down to meet Inspector LaStare with you and caught this girl putting bad pastries with the others.” 
“That’s not it!” Lila yelled in a panic and she wiggled in his grip, resembling a fish on a hook. “I-I-I was- I was getting rid of them! I was taking them off the counter to throw them away!”
“And your container of cockroaches?” Asked Sabine, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring dubiously at the girl.
“Those aren’t mine! I swear! If you would just let me explain-”
“I’ve already heard enough to recognize your voice, young lady,” the inspector snapped as he stepped closer to glare at Lila. “I bet you weren’t paying attention when you called the health department all those times and the recording told you that your call would be monitored and recorded. And when a single business gets over twenty complaints in less than a week, it gets some attention. But when we listen to the recordings and hear the same voice for every message, we figure it’s someone with a vendetta against the establishment. Still, we do our do-diligence and inspect the establishment, but I had no idea how stupid a person would be to attempt to plant fake evidence while I was here, in full view of the security cameras.”
She couldn’t help her surprised gasp as she, while still hanging upside down in the hulking baker’s grip, looked around the kitchen ceiling until her eyes landed on the cameras. One pointed at the side door she had picked open and the other pointed at the counter where she had put the moldy pastry.
Sabine leaned in close, glaring straight into Lila’s upside-down eyes. “Young lady, what is your mother’s phone number?” It was clear that it was more of a demand than a question, but she was still trying to think of a way out of trouble before Sabine grabbed her face and forced Lila to look at her. “You can either tell me her number now, or you can tell the police so she can go pick you up at the station while they tell her all the crimes you’re being charged with.”
Angry at being caught and forced to call her mother, Lila thought of what she could do as she tried to look and sound pitiful as she recited her mother’s number. Not difficult since she was red-faced from hanging upside-down for so long. She might not be able to get out of trouble, but she’d be damned if they didn’t pay for humiliating her.
After Sabine stepped into the front of the bakery to make the call, Lila tearfully looked up at Tom. “Can you please put me down? I’m getting really dizzy.”
She could tell that the man was tempted to drop her on her head, but he was too much of a goody-goody like his daughter and he eased her gently to the floor. As soon as he let go of her ankle, Lila’s uninjured hand snapped out and grabbed the tupperware of cockroaches, ripped off the lid, and flung the insects across the floor. 
Tom and Inspector LaStare yelled in surprise and disgust as Lila attempted to escape, this time running for the front of the bakery. She actually made it out of the kitchen, but ended up face to face with Sabine. Without a word, the woman grabbed Lila’s by the arm, flipped her over her shoulder to the floor, and twisted her arm to where she couldn’t move.
“Are you okay, Tom?” Sabine called, her voice eerily calm to Lila’s ears.
“She flung those cockroaches across the kitchen! They’re everywhere!” Tom yelled as he and the inspector scrambled to try and kill or capture the insects.
“I’ve already called her mother and the police, they’ll be here any minute.”
Lila’s struggles doubled when she heard that. “You said you wouldn’t call the police if I gave you my mom’s number!”
Sabine merely twisted the girl’s arm a little more, halting her struggles rather than letting her arm break. “I said no such thing. I only said you could choose whether to talk to your mother here or at the police station. And I promise you, young lady, your mother is going to hear everything you’ve been up to. Including what you’ve been doing Marinette.”
~oOo~
The fallout had been epic after the police and Lila’s mother arrived at the bakery. 
Greta Rossi had been in denial at first, not wanting to think that her daughter was capable of such terrible behavior. But it was hard to argue with the video evidence and eyewitness accounts of Lila attempting to plant moldy pastries, vindictively releasing the cockroaches in the kitchen, or attacking Tom Dupain with a knife, which would require stitches. 
It got even worse when school let out for lunch and the majority of Lila’s classmates came rushing over when they saw the police and ambulance at the bakery. Mme. Rossi had asked them why they were all out when there was an akuma on the loose. The class asked her why they were back in Paris since she was supposed to be in a meeting with the royal family of Spain. It became apparent after a few more minutes of back and forth that Lila had been lying for the entire time they’d been in France and Greta would have to meet with M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier soon about her daughter’s absences and failure to contact her.
When the police were placing handcuffs on Lila, she started shrieking. “You can’t do this to me! I have diplomatic immunity! Let me go or I’ll get you fired and Italy will invade France for what you’re doing to me!”
“Wrong!” Greta spoke over Lila as she approached her daughter. “I’m a secretary at the embassy, not a diplomat. Only I have immunity, you don’t. I was lucky to even be able to bring you on assignment rather than leave you with your Zio and Zia in Italy. But I see that was a mistake, and now both of us will have to pay for that mistake!”
Lila continued to shriek and curse as she was forced into the back of the police cruiser and taken to the police station. 
In the end; Lila was charged with corporate sabotage, breaking and entering, assault with a deadly weapon, and slander by Tom and Sabine. She was also charged for truancy, forgery, bullying, slander, and cyber bullying for what she’d done to Marinette at school. Lila’s mother was forced to pay for an exterminator to take care of the cockroaches, as well as all of the supplies and pastries that had been at the bakery and had to be thrown out due to the infestation that Lila had attempted to cause. But the worst was having to pay restitution for the time the bakery was closed. Turns out, Tom and Sabine’s bakery really was the top bakery in Paris and had the receipts to prove it.
There had been some worry that the temporary shutdown would hurt the bakery’s reputation, but Inspector LaStare, with the help of Nadja Chamack, had seen to it that none of the problems would blow back on the Dupain-Chengs. Inspector LaStare had gone on record stating that it was a rare occasion where an establishment was completely innocent of the accusations brought against it, but this was one of those times. He then showed footage of Lila planting the moldy pastry, assaulting Tom with the knife, and flinging the bugs into the kitchen before attempting to escape. He also stated that he was personally working with the Dupain-Chengs to make sure that the bakery was up to code and open as soon as possible so all of Paris could get back to enjoying their favorite pastries.
Viewers all over Paris were appalled at the actions of the teenage girl,discovering her vendetta was against Marinette since she knew about Lila’s lies. While laughing at her as they watched Tom hold her upside-down by her leg and Sabine flip the fleeing girl over her shoulder via security footage. The footage ended up being shared by people all over YouTube and gained millions of views, showing their support for the Dupain-Chengs and humiliating Lila on a now global level.
There was also sympathy towards Marinette and outrage towards the Francois Dupont administration when Nadja reported how Lila had also been bullying Marinette without receiving any help from the school. This would result in both Damocles and Bustier being suspended from their jobs until they completed training in regards to handling bullies.
With all the publicity against Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste had been left in a difficult position since Lila had only recently been named a new spokesmodel for his brand. Adrien, however, offered a solution to save face and help the brand in the future. So, when Nadja was doing a followup on the story the following week, Gabriel did a video interview where he very publicly announced Lila’s termination from the company for her actions and announced that he had offered Marinette an internship and a scholarship to the fashion university of her choice, so long as she was accepted. This caused a slew of universities to scout Marinette themselves, as it wasn’t every day a fashion mogul does a public shout out to a girl in college. And just like that, sales and public opinion of the Agreste brand went up.
Lila watched all of this unfold from her prison cell outside of Paris. She had been tried as an adult and was caught committing perjury during her trial, which prompted the judge to give her the maximum sentence for her crimes. She couldn’t even enjoy the pleasure of being akumatized anymore since she was so far out of the city. All she could do was sit in her cell eating moldy bread with cockroaches as her only friends as she sulked on the fact that she had failed, and the entire world was laughing at her.
Taglist:
@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @awkwardromances @bayball @babylovebug18 @botanicalfoxx @back-cats-and-broken-mirrors @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @chocolatechipcookiesandcamembert @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @ladylupuscrow @maskedpainter @miraculouslydumb @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @pheonix-biach @pandora-fucking-box @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @rowanyx @ren121 @seesea22 @seraphichana @sashakoi @shypeacekitten @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance
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sweeterthansammy · 3 years
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Undercover || Stucky
Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes; The reader is Bucky and Steve’s girlfriend.
Summary: Despite their protests, Y/N goes undercover during a mission, leaving her boys astonished nonetheless.
Genre: Random
Written in third person point of view.
Warnings: Mentions of killing, mild arguing, sexual innuendos, sad Bucky (if you squint), mild language, and me using Google Translate for French dialogue :)
Word count: 2.5k+ (with translations); 2.4k+ (without translations)
A/N: I wasn’t sure as to whether or not I should put smut in it but let me know if you guys want a part two with smut! Divider made by yours truly 😌
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“You’re not going and that’s final.”
Once in a blue moon was Bucky stern with Y/N, tonight being one of those blue moons. Y/N fought and fought and fought. She wasn’t a little kid, most certainly not his, and she thought that she was making that clear. Same with Steve. It was beyond infuriating, having the two constantly babying her.
“I am going to complete that mission and you can’t stop me. Nor can you.”
She looked at Steve who seethed of irritation, big arms bulking out of the tiny black tee. As Bucky opened his mouth to protest yet again, Steve stopped him.
“Let her go. She wants to do it, so let her do it.”
He kept his eyes on her the entire time, stalking her like a predator.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if I found you in pieces,” he grumbled, crotch pressed right up to her behind with his nose nuzzled into her hair.
She scoffed, elbowing him in the ribcage before proceeding to pack her clothes. He simply chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest once again.
“If that’s how you plan on taking anyone down that isn’t me, consider yourself dead.”
She looked back at him, eyebrows furrowing as she forced herself out of Steve’s grip.
“That’s what this about it, isn’t it? You don’t think I’m strong enough to actually anyone down.”
“No-”
“That’s exactly why you don’t want me to go!”
“We don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Bucky interjected, looking back and forth between his two lovers.
“I don’t need either of you to watch over me like a fucking child and that’s the last time I’m reminding you,” she spoke quickly and quietly, packing the remainder of her clothing into her suitcase before zipping it up. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”
“The mission isn’t until tom-”
“I didn’t ask you,” she sung, making her way up to Nat’s floor.
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“And then Steve goes ‘if that’s how you plan on taking anyone down that isn’t me, consider yourself dead,’” she quoted Steve, deepening her voice to her best ability to mock the captain. “And then Bucky has the audacity to deny it, like, dude, I know that you’re undermining my skills!”
Natasha was dying of laughter as Y/N recited the quarrel she had found herself in with Steve and Bucky. She eased up, face red and cheeks aching as she held onto her stomach.
“Oh, jeez,” she muttered, shaking her head as she felt the laughter dying down. “I mean...it’s unbelievable. I can’t believe they still do that even after being with you for over two years. Hell, what do I know? I’ve been on and off with Clint for plenty of years and I have to yell at him for being so protective over me.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her own relationship, reflecting on the many times that she’s actually scolded Clint for babying her. He may act like a hardass around the crew, but he was far from that - he was a huge softy for Natasha.
“Thanks for letting me stay up here with you, though. I probably would’ve ended up killing them if I spent another second in there,” Y/N giggled, placing her suitcase in a corner that wouldn’t disrupt anything of Nat’s.
“Anytime,” she started, offering a lopsided smile. “Besides, we haven’t had girl time alone in forever.”
Girl time suddenly became girl time including Bucky. He was there for all of the movie-watching, doing facemasks with them, painting their nails. As much as the two girls loved Bucky with all of their hearts, they couldn’t just let loose. Natasha had to bite her tongue down to refrain from gossiping so many times just because Bucky was there.
If he heard half of the things that they spoke about, not even the latest gossip, he would more than likely be traumatized. So kicking back with Natasha, they whipped out nail kits and face masks, Nat’s huge collection of snacks, and they picked The Notebook, getting ready to spill all of the tea and unleash their younger selves for the first time in months.
Not even one full night into staying with Natasha that they were brought out of their zone, a sturdy, rhythmic knock on the door, bringing Nat to her feet.
“Don’t die,” Y/N called after her, throwing her arm over the armrest, eyes pasted to the screen.
“Natasha, I’m not stupid. I can literally smell her, she’s sitting in the living room.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, the sound of Bucky’s voice causing her to stand up from her seat and go over to the door.
“What do you want, Buck?”
“You. Come back to the room please, we’re sorry.”
“I don’t see Steve anywhere, so, you’re sorry. Bucky, go to bed, it’s late. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
Nat watched as Y/N closed the door on him, his entire demeanor slumped.
“Don’t sleep in front of the door either.”
She wasn’t going to lie, she felt guilty dismissing Bucky, but she wasn’t giving in to either of them that fast.
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Her night spent with Nat had flown by within the blink of an eye, the two girls using the power in their legs to travel up the ramp into the Quinjet. Y/N took a seat next to Nat, smiling at Sam who sat directly across from her.
“Not sitting with your lovestruck puppies?” Sam snickered, looking to his right to see them coming up the ramp. “Speaking of the devils.”
She chuckled as she shook her head. Her eyes followed Sam’s, the red rimming of Bucky’s eye bags notable. He didn’t sleep…just because she wasn’t there.
“You’re staring,” Nat muttered, gently kicking the back of Y/N’s heel with the tip of her boot.
Y/N smiled up at Bruce, who took the free seat to her left. She didn’t miss the deadly glare from Steve, shaking it off as she began to buckle herself in. The flight was quick as per usual, landing in Paris, France, in only a couple of hours. Nat couldn’t wait another second on the jet before taking off, running to the facility at which they were staying at.
“Holy shit, that’s ours?” Y/N asked, jaw hung open from pure amazement as they stood in front of the primarily glass-made building.
There were many floors to it, way more than their home base in New York. She gratefully pounced on Tony as he handed her the key to her own floor.
“Enjoy cause you won’t have it when we go back to New York,” he awkwardly pat her back, her arms becoming loose around his neck as she forgot who she was hugging for a moment.
She was so excited. Not only did she have her own privacy, but she was able to stay away from Bucky and Steve. As much as she wanted to see them, she wouldn’t break easily since she wasn’t sharing a floor with them.
Hours passed, dusk was finally closing in on them, signaling them to get ready for their mission. This was her first mission in months so it was nerve-wracking, putting the bullet-proof vest right below her button-up and slipping her feet into a pair of high heels, a garter with a knife strapped right around her thigh, nearly invisible underneath her skirt. The sound of heels clacking on the floor drew her attention from the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room.
“Are we going to a fucking seminar or a nightclub? Don’t get me wrong, you look hot, but you look like you’re ready to give a two-hour lecture.”
Y/N gasped, feigning pain as she placed her hand over her chest.
“What, it’s formal-“
“We’re going to a nightclub, not a class. You need to fit in, and I have just the thing.”
“Nat-“
“No, don’t ‘Nat’ me,” Natasha lampooned, spinning on her heels before leaving Y/N’s floor, hurrying down to her own.
She came back in less than five minutes, bunched up white fabric draped over her forearm.
“You, my friend, are going to look stunning in this. It’ll also catch the attention of your soldiers,” she added with a wink.
She in fact did look stunning in that dress. A white maxi dress with a large slit coming up to the front side of her right hip, straps keeping the dress up just off her shoulders.
“Nat, one blow of breeze and my entire vagina is exposed to French people at a nightclub.”
“Good.”
Y/N left on her strappy black heels, the straps wrapping all the way up to the skin just around the middle of her calves. They were at the club in no time, sweaty bodies, the stickiness of spilled drinks, and booming music filling the environment. The dress in fact was an eye-catcher, everyone whipping their heads around to look at Y/N. She looked like a goddess and anyone would be willing to fall at her feet, especially Bucky and Steve.
“Anyone got eyes on the target yet?”
She was dragged out of her thoughts by Stark’s voice muffled through the earpiece stuffed into her ear.
“Negative,” everyone mumbled.
Their eyes danced around the crowds, looking for none other than Georges Batroc. The clock was ticking and no sight of the man. As they waited out any chance to find him, they sipped on drinks, danced with many strangers as well as each other. Y/N’s eyes were as sharp as daggers, dodging each person until she was looking directly at the blue-eyed monster.
“Bingo,” she muttered.
She scrambled for her earpiece, holding down on the black piece that was discreetly clipped to the strap of her dress.
“I have eyes on the target. I’m moving in.”
“Be careful.”
It was Bucky. She smiled at the sound of his voice, tucking the black piece right under the fabric of her dress strap. She walked over to him confidently, chest puffed out to expose a little more cleavage as her legs stealthily moved over to the man leaning against the bar. That sick son of a bitch.
“Bonsoir, monsieur,” she greeted with a pleasant smile.
[Good evening, sir.]
“Bonsoir, colombe.”
[Good evening, dove.]
She pretended to grow flustered at the nickname, looking down at her feet. She swirled the drink in her hand before taking a tiny sip, leaning against the bar right next to Georges.
“Parlez vous anglais?”
[Do you speak English?]
“Pas beaucoup.”
[A little.]
“Ah. Je t'ai vu là-bas et ça m'intéressait...un homme élégant, tout seul. Je devais venir.”
[I saw you over there and I was interested...a smart-looking man standing all alone. I had to come over.]
“Tu es trop précieuse, colombe. Now, what do you really need? J'ai vu vos petits amis s'occuper de moi aussi.”
[You’re too precious, dove. I saw your little friends looking out for me too.]
“Vraiment un homme intelligent, non?” she paused, her eyes locking with Steve’s. “Ils pourraient facilement vous déchirer directement du trou du cul et vous laisser crier à l'aide, mais ce sont de bonnes personnes. Nous ne cherchons que des fils de putes comme vous. Alors donnez-nous ce dont nous avons besoin ou nous le ferons à la dure.”
[Indeed a smart man, aye? They could easily rip you apart right from the asshole and leave you crying out for help but they're good people. We only go after sons of bitches like you. So give us what we need or we'll do this the hard way.]
“C'est ce que tu veux?”
[This what you want?]
“You know damn well that that’s what I want,” she said through a fake chuckle as he held a silver key right above her head.
“Demandez-le gentiment.”
[Ask for it nicely.]
She scoffed, “Qu'es-tu? Mon père?”
[What are you? My father?]
He chuckled at her snarky remark, his hand remaining above her head.
“Ask for it.”
“Je suis un agent. Pas un super-héros. Ça ne me pas d'avoir un peu de sang sur mes mains, chérie.”
[I'm an agent. Not a superhero. I don't mind getting a little blood on my hands, honey.]
“Pas si je mets ton sang sur mes mains en premier.”
[Not if I get your blood on my hands first.]
“Bien essayé.”
[Nice try.]
Those were the last words she said to him before exposing her thigh, pulling the knife from under her garter, and sending it straight through the skin hovering over his jugular vein. She watched as the blood seeped out of his neck, creating a deep wound in his neck as she dragged her knife down, almost as if she were cutting through a piece of meat, which she technically was. She gave him a knee to the sack before snatching the keys from in between his fingertips.
“Fais de beaux rêves, homme intelligent.”
[Sweet dreams, smart man.]
She winked as his figure slowly dropped to the ground, his hands tight around his throat to succumb to the bleeding. She looked around, seeing bodyguards, most likely his, making their way over to him. She fled into the crowd, a pair of hands falling onto her hips before spinning her around.
“That was so fucking hot,” Steve whispered, ferociously kissing her as if he would never get to do so again.
Her bloodied hand left a trace over Steve’s chest, clad in a tight white button-up. Her hands felt up on his skin, slipping the keys into his back pocket as their tongues continued to dance around each other.
“Y/N? Y/N? Why are you breathing so heavy? Oh my god, is she dead?”
She pulled away from Steve, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth.
“No, Stark. I’m not dead. I got the key to the chamber and I killed the bitch.”
“You killed him!?”
She walked hand in hand with Steve, his muscular figure trailing behind her. She was attacked with hugs almost immediately, Nat rambling about how good Y/N did.
“And she speaks French!? Why did I not know this!?” Sam asked, agreeing with Nat as to how amazing Y/N performed.
Y/N was overjoyed. Back on her first mission and she did it, leaving unscathed. She looked around, Bucky leaning against a booth with one arm in his pocket and the other holding a drink, most likely his metal arm as a sliver of it peeked from under his leather jacket. She let go of Steve’s hand for a moment, shimmying past anyone in her way over to the super soldier.
Her hands rested on either side of his neck as his fell to her behind. He tasted like fresh whiskey, his tongue rolling into her mouth, their lips creating a sloppy mess. Their teeth clashed as Y/N’s arms engulfed Bucky’s head, fingers getting lost in his near-shoulder length hair as he hoisted one leg above his hip. Flipping them around so she was being pressed up against the wooden divider of the booth, his thumb circled her hip, completely exposing her right leg as it snuck past the large slit.
“Fuck, hearing you speak French does some shit to me.”
“Ramène-moi dans ta chambre et baise-moi stupide.”
[Take me back to your room and fuck me stupid.]
“Gladly, dove.”
The voice in both her and Bucky’s ears caused them to look back, Steve nodding his head in the direction of the door.
Taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @quxxnxfhxll @eunoia-kth @siriuslyslyslytherin @dracomalfoys-wh0re @rudypankowisdaddy
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anjuschiffer · 3 years
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Undefined
Happy Valentine’s Day @m3owww​! Hope you enjoy it Phi!
Thanks to @eat0crow​ for organizing this exchange and Panda for helping me with the title!
Yes, I know I went overboard...
--
AO3
Marinette remembered the first time she got something from her soulmate.
It was a battery, or so she found out when she showed it to her parents.
“Maman, what’s this?” She asked her mother as she showed her the black box-like battery.
“Where did you get this?” Sabine asked, taking it and examining, wondering where her 10 year old daughter got it. After all, she didn’t recall them buying it.
“I didn’t get it from anywhere. It just...appeared on my desk.” Marinette explained, watching as Sabine showed the box to her father.
“This looks like a camera battery.” Tom gave the battery back to Marinette, then looked at Sabine, watching as she connected the dots. “Seems like your soulmate might be into photography.”
“Soulmate?” Marinette asked, staring at the battery.
Soulmates. Only five percent of the world’s population had one or rather, the ability to find theirs. They came in various forms and at different ages, so it was always hard to know if you had a soulmate link, bond or mark.
As for the Dupain-Chengs, it seems like Tom and Sabine belonged to that five percent. Sabine and Tom found out they had soulmates when they met at a flea market in Paris. The two had noticed that the timer ticking on their wrist was edging closer to 0, causing them to panic. For the two believed that it was a timer that marked the death of their soulmate. 
As the two dashed to find a place to possibly cry at, the two crashed into each other, Tom catching Sabine by her wrist to prevent her from falling. As the two apologized, it was then that they found out that they were soulmates and that the timer was counting down to when they were going to meet. Upon realizing this, they both began to laugh.
Marinette asked them why her soulmate link wasn’t like theirs, Sabine explaining that each soulmate pair had a different bond. As for Marinette, it seemed to be a lost and found link.
If either of them lost anything, say a pencil, then the other will find it.
Sabine noticed that Marinette seemed skeptical of it.
“Try throwing out the battery out the window.”
“What? No!”
“Trust me.” And so Marinette did, after preparing herself for 10 minutes. When she went outside to look for it, it was gone.
Seeing as it was true, Marinette began to purposely lose items frequently, hoping that her soulmate would get the message that she knew about him. That she was eager to meet him. But despite her hard efforts, her items never went over to her soulmate, the items landing or staying in the spot Marinette had thrown at.
Because of this, whenever Marinette would try and show her friends her bond, they half-believed her. Only one straight up thought she made up the story to get attention: Chloe.
But then again, Chloe didn’t like anyone, so Marinette kept telling her friends of her various attempts, eagerly telling them how she couldn’t wait to meet them.
--
Soulmates…as much as Tim wanted to ask his parents about it, he chose not to.
Tim looked at the tiny medallion in his hand, his fingers running over the three letters engraved on it, quickly putting it away when he heard his mother’s footsteps, quickly burying himself into his homework, pretending to flip between pages when he heard the doorknob of his room turn.
Janet walked in, Tim pretending to figure out a calculation out, quickly scribbling some nonsense onto his paper.
“I see that you’re working hard.”
“Mr.Sommers said that the next exam will cover factorization, so I thought I would do a few for practice.” Tim easily lied, adding a final number before looking up to acknowledge his mother.
She had that look again. “How long would you be out for this trip?” Janet jumped a bit. “You talked about it with Mrs.Romanov just yesterday, when you found her at the bookstore to buy some books for the flight. When we were at the storefront, remember?”
Another lie. Yes, his mother had gone to the bookstore with Tim, but the thing was that Janet had sent Tim off while she told Mrs.Romanov about her next exertion. How she told Mrs.Romanov if she knew of any nannies to take care of Tim while she was going to be out for the next two months.
Despite knowing Tim was capable of maintaining himself, she didn’t want the school to bother her again for not leaving him behind with adult supervision. It was starting to get on her nerves.
“Oh that’s right. How did I forget?” His mother recalled, not once doubting his retelling. “We’re excavating in Riqqeh, Egypt for a month.” Tim watched as his mother let out a sigh. “Probably more cemeteries, but then again, you never know until you dig.”
“I see.” Tim said, burying himself back into his homework. “Hope you find something more interesting than skeletons then.”
“I promise to bring back a souvenir, okay?” His mother walked to him, placing a cold kiss on his forehead, Tim noticing his father’s name etched on her collar bone. “Make sure to go straight to sleep after you finish that page, understood?” A nod. “Good night, Timothy.”
“Good night.” He simply said back, watching as she closed the door.
Taking out the medallion, Tim stared at it. 
He had a soulmate somewhere out there...a soulmate he dreaded to meet...and yet hoped that perhaps they wouldn’t end up like his parents…
Tim opened a secret compartment in his pencil case and placed the medallion there, thinking about it until he went to sleep.
Soulmates. Everyone is always eager to meet them, but no one ever tells you how to keep that same enthusiasm after you meet them…
Tim’s parents met when Janet had tagged along with one of her friend’s excavation trips, meeting Jack in Berlin.  
The minute the two saw each other, their world turned more colorful, the two becoming infatuated with one other when they found out they were soulmates. After showing each other’s names etched onto their collarbones, the two quickly planned their marriage.
Marrying in Gotham was a dream come true for Janet...but that dream lasted a mere months before the world went back to being its bland self. With each having their own dreams, careers and goals, Janet and Jack started to stray from each other. Meetings and trips took time away from one another. And the time they would see each other, they would simply talk about work, work and nothing else. Not even a single ‘want to take a break?’ or ‘how about we go out for dinner tonight?’
It was like being at another board meeting, being professional with each other.
They only drew close to one another when Janet found out she was pregnant with Timothy, Jack taking some time off work to make sure Janet had various maids checking on her before returning back to work.
On the day Timothy was to be born, Jack was there, holding Janet’s handing during the delivery. He held his son once before handing him over to Janet and leaving, mentioning about having to go back to work.
Jack would then go on to see Timothy at home, being lulled to sleep by the handmaid, telling Jack of Janet’s meeting with the board about an upcoming visit to Mexico. 
There were few times Tim actually remembered going out as a family and while from the outside it looked like any other family outing, Tim knew why they were out in the first place: rumors.
“Have you heard? Drake’s little boy was seen walking home by himself! What parent lets their child go home by themselves? ”
“Timothy? But he’s only six!”
“Heard they plan on sending him to a boarding school. Poor thing.”
While the family outings were influenced by rumors, Tim found joy in them because it was the few times he was able to go to places he had desired to go before. Like the circus....even if that one ended in a tragedy.
But even good things had to come to an end. Years went by and Timothy grew to be very independent. That was when all the maids and servants were shooed off, leaving Tim all alone. 
It didn’t help that they did indeed end up sending him to boarding school.
But Tim managed to get used to being alone, and has been for the past two years.
--
Years passed and Marinette no longer kept trying to lose her items. Despite her various attempts, she couldn’t manage to send them over to her soulmate, finding it disheartening it.
But as of these days, Marinette didn’t have the time to try it again. Or rather, she could no longer afford to lose her belongings or let them out of her sight.
While she had gotten used to getting her things taken away from her thanks to her friends borrowing them or Chloe playing a “prank” on her, getting bullied by two people at the same time was starting to take a toll on her and the brand she was trying to set for herself at the age of 15.
If she dared to let her eyes wander, then they would either fall into the hands of Chloe or of Lila’s. When Lila transferred to Dupont, Marinette didn’t honestly care about her lying, after all, they were nothing but white lies. So she never bothered to actually make friends with the girl. But even with the lack of communication, Marinette apparently did something to Lila because one day she was cornered in the bathroom and was threatened.
Marinette was kind but she knew when enough was enough.
“I would like to see you try.” She practically spat into Lila’s face before leaving the bathroom those weeks ago.
So here she was, being bullied by both her bully since l'école primaire and her new found one in lycee.
But between the two, Marinette preferred her personal things end up in Chloe’s hands than Lila’s. Chloe at least gave them back, but Lila? They never returned in one piece or even worse, they didn’t come back at all.
“Marinette? Where is your-”
“Mme Bustier...I promise you I did do it. I had it.” Marinette stabilized her voice from erupting into panic as she failed to find her assignment that she swore she had in her bag. “You can even ask Alya. She saw it.”
“That’s true Mme Bustier!” Alya quickly defended, although she wondered what happened to the paper as she saw Marinette safely tuck it away. Yes, Marinette could be clumsy, but unorganized and scattered brain? That she was not. She was meticulous, precise and always punctual. So how did that paper leave its place?
“Regardless, it’s not in my hands.” Mme Bustier sighed. “You’ll have to stay after class.” That caused Marinette to panic. She couldn’t afford to stay after school. She had a meeting with a client as soon as school ended.
“But Mme Bustier!”
“I’m sorry Marinette, but-”
“I can’t afford to stay after class! I have a very important-”
“Marinette.” Mme Bustier sternly stated. “Rules are rules. You’ll have to come after school, whether you have a very important appointment or not.”
Marinette managed to not scream as the bell rang, watching as everyone filed out, Alya lingering behind.
“Marinette, I could-” she shook her head. 
“Alya, I’ll be alright.” She gave her friend a sheepish smile. “And go on without me. Perhaps my client will understand when I explain it to them via text.” Despite Marinette’s reassurance, Alya nodded and left the classroom hesitantly.
Bracing herself for her punishment, Mme Bustier got a phone call from the main office, looking at Marinette and turning her attention back to the phone. With a few ‘oui’ and ‘be right there,’ Bustier turned to Marinette. 
“They need me for a few minutes downstairs, but that doesn’t mean you are free to go. Stay here while I check what they need from me.” Mme Bustier ordered, Marinette burying her face into her hands as she slammed herself into her desk.
She lifted her head once again, sending a quick text to her client about running late. Once that was over, Marinette took out her sketchbook to look over her designs, taking out a red pen to add some additional revisions.
She didn’t know how long she had been like that, but the moment she heard the door open, her head snapped upwards, a frown on her face when she saw Lila and not Mme Bustier.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing much.” Lila said, dragging her fingers on the desk Marinette sat at. “Just this!” She exclaimed, snatching the sketchbook from under Marinette’s hand.
“Give it back!” Marinette screamed, quickly chasing after Lila around the class.
“Oh come one Marinette! I just want to-” 
“They’re very important commision designs for a client-” Marinette attempted to reason, almost grabbing it back from Lila.
“Is that so?” Lila hummed, quickly opening the sketchbook and looking at the designs. “Wow. You weren’t kidding!” A grin made its way to her face. “It’d be too bad if something bad happened to it.”
Marinette’s eyes widened and the next thing she knew, she had managed to grab the sketchbook from Lila.
“There’s no way in hell I would let you.” Marinette said in a low voice.
“Oh? Then let’s see you try!” Lila yelled, attempting to grab the sketchbook from Marinette. 
The two waltzed away from one another as Marinette kept her sketchbook away from Lila’s grasp. The two were on each other’s toes  until Marinette had to run around the classroom, having to knock over Mme Bustier’s chair to keep Lila away from her when she got too close to comfort.
“Come on Marinette! I just want to see-”
“No way in hell Lila!” Marinette screamed, feeling as Lila dug her nails into her shoulder when she ended up cornering her by the windows, Marinette trying her best to not wince at the pain.
The two girls kept clawing at one another until Marinette couldn’t keep Lila at bay anymore, trying to find a way to keep her sketchbook safe from Lila. As Lila kept pushing her, Marinette’s hand hit the window, almost knocking down the metal rod that was used to pull down the shades. That’s when it hit her. 
Taking in a deep breath, Marinette kicked Lila away from her, ingraining Lila’s expression of surprise into her memory. As Lila goy up and charged to grab the designer’s sketchbook, Marinette flung it behind her head, silently praying for its safety. 
After all, everytime she had tried to lose an item, it never worked. But this time, just this one time, she hoped it would work.
Meanwhile, Lila watched as the sketchbook flew out the window, watching as it fell down to the ground, only to disappear before it hit the grass outside. 
Lila stepped back, her eyes darting from the missing book to the panting Marinette who glared at her with daggers for eyes.
“Not this time Lila. Not this time.” The classroom door opened, causing both girls to look at the doorway.
“What is going on here?” Mme Mendeleiev practically shouted, causing Lila to lose all color in her face. 
Crap. 
Tim watched as his English teacher started to walk down the desk aisle, watching as he started to collect their writing assignment assigned yesterday.  Seeing as he was drawing near, Tim reached into his bag, when he felt an unfamiliar texture brush against his knuckles. Peering into his bag, he noticed a leather book with a red strap securing it.
Deciding to check it out later, Tim took out his assignment and handed it in, watching as Mr.Hughes simply nodded as he took it, walking down the other row of desks to take the assignment.
As class progressed, his mind drifted to one thing: the book. Tim pondered at how the leather book had gotten into his bag and who it belonged to.
Was it from someone in his class? Was it part of a prank?
He was snapped from his thoughts once the bell rang, signaling everyone that it was lunch.
Tim scurried to the school’s library, heading up to the second floor and turning a right to where his favorite spot welcomed him. A lone desk at the corner, next to a radiator that warmed him in the winter and a wonderful view of the campus as well. 
Ever since the death of his mother around a year ago, Tim was able to convince his father to pull him out of boarding school and to transfer him to Gotham Academy. He told him how it was less costly and better yet, closer to home. He agreed.
Making sure that he was comfortable, Tim took out the leather book, his fingers analyzing the bumpy leather texture. Perhaps he would find the owner’s name inside. If not, he will take it to the lost-n-found in the main office. Carefully, Tim took the red strap off the edge of the book, taken aback at the sketches on the paper.
Light feather markings under layers of darker, bolder strokes of graphite looked back at him in the shape of a dress. Side notes in French in a vibrant shade of black ink were meticulously jotted down, red ink being additional notes to the already long list of critiques. 
As he turned the pages, Tim saw one dress design after another, designs for hats, caps, shirts and even leather jackets were in there too. Names of fabrics he had never heard of before racked in his mind as Tim kept admiring each sketch. He also couldn’t help but notice the signature on each page. MDC. 
MDC.
As he reveled in the initials, trying to make sense of them, he let out a hiss as he retracted his hand from the book, noticing a small bead of blood emerged from his finger...blood?
Tim looked back at the book, noticing that there was a single needle poking out from the sketchbook’s satin bookmark, a silver medallion-
Medallion? 
There was no way.
Tim closed in on the medallion and there it was, the initials, MDC. Just like the one he found written on the rose-gold medallion he found years ago.
But why now? Why now after five years of not losing a single thing?
Time had gone by so quickly that Tim literally jumped when the bell rang for the next class, Tim quickly scrambling to gently put back his soulmate’s things into his bag and head for geometry class.
--
Thanks to the fiasco with Lila, Marientte was held back even more, leading to Marinette having to reschedule her appointment with her client.
Thankfully, the client understood the situation Marinette was just in, even going as far as waiting for Marinette to set the new meeting date. Something about having been there before.
Wrapped in a lavender scented blanket, Marinette stared at her phone screen in front of her that blinked several times before turning black. Then it would turn on again.
On. On. On. On. Off. On…. Off. On... Off...On. On...
Marinette didn’t bother to flip it over either, knowing that the vibration of the incoming calls and unread text messages were going to remind her of the incident with Lila...and how she didn’t have access to her sketchbook anymore.
Her stomach grumbled in annoyance, Marinette only then remembering not having eaten in hours and its been a long time judging form the darken sky outside.
Deciding to actually eat something before she started to feel nauseous from not eating, Marinette was surprised to see a crumpled piece of paper next to the tray of food her mom had brought her. Where did the paper come from?
Opening it up, Marinette felt her heart stop.
I don’t know why, but I have your book…
Thank god she studied a bit of English! Marinette read the next lines.
The designs...are very nice. But guessing from the notes on the last page, you need it back. How exactly do I do that?
That stumped Marinette because to be honest, she didn’t know how. Every time she had tried to before, it never worked. Only this one time where she really needed for the link to work, it worked. But...they managed to easily lose their things…
Grabbing a piece of paper, Marinette wrote back, crumbling it and headed towards her skylight. Opening the hatch a bit, she threw it, going back to her food, hoping it got through.
--
Tim was minding his own business, listening to NIghtwing give the squad a run down of their latest problem when he eyed a crumpled up paper by his foot. Hoping no one would notice it, he quickly placed it under his foot and waited for the debriefing to finish. 
Crouching to get it, it seems like he wasn’t as subtle as he had wished to be as Jaime got to it first.
“What you hiding from us, compa’?” Jaime asked Tim as he uncrumpled the paper. “¿Qué diablos es esto? What is this? Can you even read this?” Jaime pointed at the French written on the paper. 
“Yes, I can.” Tim said, huffing when Bart leaned onto his shoulder, peering into the note in Tim’s hands.
“Why am I not surprised?” Jaime said. “Not only are you super smart, but now you’re bilingual too? Let me guess, you're actually multilingual?”
“Actually, he is.” Bart chimed in. 
“No manches güey. Seriously?”
“If I remember correctly: Spanish, Cantonese, Russian-”
“And German.” Tim finished, quickly picking up his pace. “Now if you excuse me, I have a few things to do.”
“Hey! At least tell us what it says! Andale, no seas malo.” Jaime pleaded but simply got a wave goodbye for an answer. “Fine! But don’t forget about tomorrow’s mission, eh?”
As Tim left Jaime and Bart behind, he headed to the zeta tubes to head back home, thanking Alfred for the lift home, acknowledging his father as he made his way to his room.
He made a beeline for his bag, taking out the sketchbook, scared to even hold it now that he knew who it belonged to and how much it could potentially be worth.
He laid down the wrinkled paper on his desk, rereading the note.
Just lose it. Try to toss it out the window or something. That’s what I did. It’s how our link works after all. 
Tim took a deep breath, both relieved that there was a possible way to return the book and nervous it wouldn’t work.
Taking the sketchbook, he opened up his bedroom window, looked down below and took a deep breath. He took a step back and with one swift move, he tossed the sketchbook out the window, wondering if it made its way safely back to its owner.
After what seemed like an hour, Tim found a crumpled piece of paper on his desk, quickly jogging towards it and opening, feeling a wash of relief flow out of him, Tim let himself smile as he looked at the paper.
It worked! Thank you so much! My name is Marinette...what’s yours?
--
Months flew by, Marinette now being in her senior year and grinning from ear to ear as she read Tim’s latest text to her, ignoring Alya’s nagging on packing for their trip.
Ever since the sketchbook incident, Marinette found out the reason as to why she was never able to “lose” anything to give to Tim. Or rather the two reasons why the link wasn’t working.
First off, Marinette had been intentionally losing items and always had her eyes on where it would land, which actually cancelled the link. Second, Tim’s fussing over the soulmate link caused it to weaken over time, which further didn't allow Marinette to send him anything over.
Through various days of aggressively sending each other notes, Tim decided to embrace the link while Marinette assured him that she would try to keep her enthusiasm to a low. Keyword: try.
Getting tired from the constant note throwing, Marinette suggested exchanging contact info. It’s how Marinette learned that Tim was very meticulous, and that was coming from his share of contact info. He had an email, phone number, fax number all carefully labeled with even hours in which Marinette was allowed to contact him.
At first Marinette thought he was a stick in the mud, but then Tim had to explain to her about time zones and how he was still in school and afterschool programs most of the week...oops. How did she forget about time zones and school of all things?
Using Marinette’s phone number and email, Tim was easily able to know where exactly Marinette lived, but that’s all he was able to figure out. It wasn’t exactly easy to figure out more about your soulmate when an enthusiastic Dick hovered around you upon knowing about Tim’s soulmate. It got worse when Tim officially moved into Wayne Manor after his father’s death.
But even with Dick hovering like a hummingbird, Tim found texting with Marinette soothing. To have a friend outside of school, out of the Justice League, to have a friend where he could just be Tim...it was...relaxing. Especially when he heard of Lila’s moving due to her mother’s job. 
After all, it’s not like he had something to do with it. Absolutely not.
Of course, there were a few times he almost spilled the details, but he was easily able to catch himself, oftentimes redirecting it towards Marinette’s day or her latest commission.
Sometimes they would even video chat, although rarely thanks to time zones. But the few times they did, they would each ingrain each second they spent with each other, as they never knew when they were actually going to meet one day… even if it came closer than what either of them thought.
--
Tim reread his text for the umpteenth time, his mind still trying to process the message before realizing he hadn’t answered back.
Metropolis? As in, the city where the Man of Steel resides?
She...she was heading to Metropolis? In two days? 
Thank Kon for dragging him here!
Marinette: Yup! To think we were able to win Luthor’s scholarship trip! Can you believe it? I can’t wait to see what his program could offer! When I found out that Luthor was holding a scholarship trip for those who would win his Foundation for the Arts’ essay competition, there was no way I was going to let that chance go! Especially when I heard that the trip was extended to the winner’s entire class, regardless of nationality. It would basically be our second senior trip before the first one ^^
Must be very excited then.
You bet I am! 
To think...to think he would be able to see her in person… He watched as his happiness wrote for him.
--
Tim: Wanna hear something that would make the trip more exciting?
What would make this trip even more exciting?
Marinette hummed into the palm of her hand as she watched Tim type.
Tim: I’ll get to see you. Face to face. I’ll be in Metropolis for the next week...what are the odds?
Alya never saw Marinette turn red so quickly, watching as Marinette almost fell off her bed.
“Marinette! Oh my god, Nino! Help! She’s on cloud nine!”
--
Marinette fanned herself as she bit her lip, fiddling with the green ribbon she had wrapped around her wrist in case she wanted to tie her hair up.
Today was her second day in Metropolis, Marinette now nervous compared to when she first arrived the day before.
After having a tour of Metropolis University, Bustier’s class was able to have the day to themselves and as if on cue, Tim texted her if she was free even though she had already shared her itinerary with him the moment she recovered from her shock those days ago.
So now here she was, standing in Heroes’ Park, wondering if she looked foolish standing in front of Superman’s statue.
Or perhaps because she looked so out of place. Who wears a sunhat nowadays? Oh wait, she did...why exactly? Because freckles.
Marinette looked at her phone, wondering if she got the time wrong. No. She was literally a whole ten minutes early.
So why-
“You scream tourist you know.” A voice said, snapping Marinette from her thoughts. As she turned to see who it was, she felt her heart skip a beat.
He always seemed short, but...now being faced to face…
“Well, sorry for having freckles. The sun-” Marinette pouted, caught by surprised when Tim cupped her face.
“Freckles? I never knew you had them. Then again, you can’t really see them when they’re so small and through a screen at that.”
Marinette listened as her heart threatened to jump from her chest, more so when Tim realized what he was doing. Pink dusted his face. “Sorry, I-”
“I-It’s alright.” Marinette managed to find herself saying, pulling her hat closer to her face. “I...I also wasn’t expecting you to be taller than me.”
That caused Tim to sputter.
“You thought I was-”
“Hey! In my defense, I only had furniture to get some type of knowledge of how tall you were. Seems like I was wrong.” Marinette confessed.
The two stared at each other before laughing, Marinette attempting to reel in her heart with each laugh Tim let out. She didn’t think they would sound so different to what she was used to listening to through the phone. 
When the two managed to compose themselves, Tim and Marinette looked at each other again. Marinette dusted off nonexistent dust off her yellow-canary shorts, readjusting her black purse that crossed her red blouse. Tim cleared his throat.
“Well, let’s start this again.” Marinette nodded, a smile on her face. 
“Hey. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She comfortably answered back, clasping her hand with the hand Tim offered. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Timothy.” Tim squeezed her hands, noticing how her hand fit perfectly in his.
Perhaps this was where his parents went wrong. Perhaps this is why their relationship didn’t work...lack of communication...lack of appreciation and affection…
But he won’t let them end but like them, not when he knows how much she means to him.
Giving her hand a squeeze, Tim smiled at him.
“As am I, Marinette.”
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mymelodyheart · 3 years
Text
Miles Between Us Chapter 12 ~Obstacle Course ~
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Previously in Suspicious Minds ...
Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.
But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.
"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"
He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him. 
  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.
If you wish to read this from the beginning:
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"The monster is only scary while it is in the closet.
Once in the light,
you can see its many flaws
and weaknesses.
And often,
we end up laughing,
at what we shield our eyes from
no more."
-Tom Althouse
 Meticulously scanning the busy vicinity, Claire stopped in the middle of the airport's arrival area and whirled on the spot, impatiently tapping her phone against her thigh. Come on, Hawkins, where the bloody hell are you?  Though she and Tom were painfully late, she didn't want to blame their tardiness on Jamie, so instead, she held the gridlock on the motorway and the rain responsible. And whyever not? If it hadn't been for Mary coming to Inverness unannounced, she would be with Jamie right now, making up for lost time and talking about his therapy from this morning. Why in heaven's name had the responsibility of Mary landed on her shoulder of all days? She sighed. It must be another perk of being John Grey's ultra-reliable and never-can-say-no star employee, she reminded herself with an inward groan. 
On the way to the airport, Claire had been quiet throughout the drive and was grateful to Tom for not prodding about what happened. To her relief, he'd just given her an understanding smile and drove. Thinking of Jamie's tortured face when he'd arrived at the cottage, it had taken a lot of willpower on her part to get into the car and leave him by the roadside looking after her with a forlorn expression. His words had played on repeat until she had to do a mental scold to remind herself she had work to do and assured herself she'd see him soon enough. She'd wanted him to be alright before she left to ensure him she hadn't changed her mind about them. Though she'd hurt not hearing from him after he'd disappeared, she knew his actions had been done in consideration of her, and that notion prevented her anger from taking over. Her feeling of abandonment over what he'd done was also tempered with her annoyance at Jenny. Jamie's sister's meddling was just so wrong on all sorts of level. In the middle of Jamie leaving her, Willie checking to make sure she was alright, and Jenny coming this morning, she'd gone back and forth between a place of strength and feeling like a lamb in the eye of a hurricane. But now, as she attempted to find the anger, the rage she'd felt after discovering the newspaper clipping about her house in Jenny's possession and the interference with Jamie's love life, she couldn't find it anymore.
Sensing Tom approaching, she recentred herself and smiled in his direction. "There you are.".
"Any luck?" he asked, coming to stand next to her and looking around.
"Nope," she replied, pressing her fingers to her forehead and massaging a sudden ache as she was reminded of the reason why they were there. "How did you get a parking space so quick?"
"I have my ways." When she arched an eyebrow, he grinned at her. "I have a disabled parking permit."
Claire stopped and glared at him. "Tom!"
He ignored her disapproving expression and shrugged. "So, who are we looking for?"
She shook her head and looked around for Mary once more. It shouldn't be this difficult to spot her because she usually stood out. "An overdressed, attractive petite brunette with loads of attitude," she replied, absentmindedly. "And probably with a trolley full of luggage."
More people walked past them making their search more difficult. She was about to make another phone call to Mary when Tom whistled under his breath. "Weel, weel," he murmured, his gaze ticking past her shoulder and turning thoughtful. "I wonder if the lass walking towards us is yer Hawkins." His lips twisted into a smile. "She looks mighty pissed."
"Wot?" She spun around and drew her brows together as she saw a familiar figure approaching them. What the hell? Is that Mary? It could only be her. The woman struggling with an oversized suitcase on wheels stood out like a mini bolt of lightning in her designer four-inch heels, pristine, skinny white jeans and black fur-lined down jacket. But there was something different about the way Mary looked, and it took a few seconds before Claire realised she had done something to her hair. She nearly gasped out loud. But as soon as Mary made eye contact, Claire immediately braced herself for some telling off for being late. Mary stopped, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn't find the words to voice her displeasure. Claire schooled her features and met her leaden glare without flinching. "Mary? I hardly recognised you."
Mary's brown eyes prettily widened, and her expression softened as some kind of realisation dawned on her. "Oh! Of course ...you couldn't have." A sound of delight puffed out of her. "I had my hair done in Paris. Now we have the same curls. If only I was as tall as you, we'll probably be mistaken as sisters." She missed Claire's intake of breath as she ran her delicate fingers through her locks. "Do you like it?"
No, I don't! What have you done to your beautiful hair? You look like a poodle! Claire swallowed hard, tilted her head to her side, and contemplated the best way to tell Mary the truth. But she didn't have the heart to say it. Instead, she opted for something closer to the truth. "Well, for starters, it looks unusual. I'm so used to seeing your beautiful straight hair. I guess it will take time getting used to," she admitted. But when a slight frown drifted across Mary's face, Claire felt bad. Taking a deep breath, she laughed nervously as she fluffed her own hair. "Look at these ...after all these years, I'm still not used to mine, and I have a bit of hate relationship with it, especially when it gets humid or when I looked at the mirror first thing in the morning. So bear with me if I'm not much into curls."
It took Mary a long time to respond. "Oh, well," she replied with a subdued smile. "You should have seen John's face when he first saw my hair. He looked shocked." She shrugged. "But in the end, he did say it was beginning to grow on him. I guess everyone's used to my limp, lifeless hair."
Ah, bless John. Claire knew his expression wouldn't have been able to hide what was on his mind, and it wouldn't have bode well for him if Mary had been able to read his face. Mary was their star author whose new book could likely save his publishing company from potential financial ruin, and anyone pointing out her disastrous new hairstyle would probably only result in tantrums and more delays in publication. She sighed. "It wasn't limp, Mary. You had beautiful, straight hair. You have no idea what I would give to have manageable straight hair like what you had." And that was the truth.
Mary perked up a bit and rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, don't make me like you even more."
They shared a slow smile, and Claire was about to make a different compliment that didn't include Mary's hair when Tom cleared his throat and stepped forward, giving them a charming smile. "Ladies, sorry to interrupt, but shall we get cracking? My car is not parked in the most ideal of places."
"Oh, of course, I'm so sorry ..." Claire had almost forgotten about Tom, too fascinated by Mary's new hairstyle. She gave him an apologetic look and turned to Mary. "Oh, by the way, may I introduce you to ..." she trailed off and stopped.
Mary's expression looked like the heavens had just opened up and bestowed them an angel. Her lips moved, but no sound came, but when she did finally found her voice, it sounded raspy. "Is this your Jamie that John was talking about?"
Claire pried Mary's hand from her suitcase. "No, this is Tom. He's offered to drive me here to pick you up."
Tom grinned and offered his hand in greeting. "A pleasure to finally meet ye, Mary. I've read a couple of yer books, and I must say, not only are ye a talented writer but a beautiful one too."
Claire mentally groaned but kept the frustration from her face at bay. Tom must have noticed Mary's reaction and had taken his flirting a notch higher. When Mary continued to stare, Claire gently nudged her with her elbow. "Mary. Shake Tom's hand, and let's go."
Mary shook her way out of her trance and smiled. "Oh, I think this is going to be a very, very interesting visit," she gushed, finally back to her being her old self again. But instead of shaking Tom's hand, she hooked her arm into his, leaving Claire with the suitcase. "So Tom ...can you recommend a perfect place to eat? I'm quite famished and can't work on an empty stomach."
Tom obliged and patted Mary's hand. "Dinnae fash, I ken just the place."
With that, Mary looked over her shoulder and winked. All Claire could do was smile back and hope they would be able to get some work done. Because if not, and there's any more cause to delay Hawkin's books, come hell or high water, she's quitting Dreamweaver.
...........
Two Days Later
Stepping out of the shower, Jamie immediately zeroed in on his phone just in case he'd missed a call from Claire. They'd briefly talked last night, and she'd reminded him of uncle Lamb's arrival, which should be between now and the evening. If all goes to plan with Mary Hawkins, Claire should be coming back too. Hopefully, tonight, he thought with a sigh. It was already late Saturday afternoon, and his work was done for the weekend. Plenty of time left to get his shit together. 
Since Claire had left for Inverness, he hadn't had time to think. His brother had kept him busy with tasks and paperwork, and, on top of it all, he'd been distracted trying to comfort a distressed sister. Jenny had told him what had transpired between her and Claire. And how she'd been out of her mind, thinking she'd ruined their relationship. He'd consoled her, and in turn, she'd apologised profusely for her meddling. Her sincerity had touched him, but moreover, he couldn't help feeling amused at the thought of Jenny finally meeting her match. Though Claire was a gentle and thoughtful soul, he knew she was not the type to be bossed around. And in as much as he loved his sister, he was glad Claire put Jenny in her place and hoped after everything had been said and done, they can all move on from that incident and forgive.
Despite barely having time to be alone with his sometimes chaotic thoughts, he'd still managed to feel anxious about Christie. Jamie learned he hadn't returned to Broch Mordha, which led him to ponder if Christie was spending time with Claire. It was a lapse of insecurity, and that notion had been rubbished straight away since he knew how important Claire's work was to her. So there should be no pressure on his chest or icy tingling along his spine. 
There shouldn't be, but somehow there was.
Jamie was just shrugging into a fresh sweatshirt when his doorbell rang. He glanced at the wall clock and wondered who it was. Claire hadn't given a specific time for Quentin's arrival, and if it had been her at the door, she should've let herself in with the spare key he'd given her.
"Coming!" he shouted as the doorbell rang once more. He took a deep breath expecting uncle Lamb to be standing out there. Bracing himself. he flung the door open and was surprised to see who it was. "Ge- ... I mean Dr Dunsany!"
"Hi, Jamie!" Geneva greeted. "You may call me Geneva, you know ...since we're not in my office. May I come in?"
Jamie narrowed his gaze and looked past her shoulder. He could see Mrs Fitz from across the street pretending to fuss over some leaves in her garden when really he could tell she's prying into his business. There were talks already surrounding Claire being seen with Tom, and it wouldn't do him good if words of Geneva coming to his cottage got around, no matter how innocent the visit was. He gave Geneva an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm kinda busy," he withdrew, glancing casually at his watch. "I ... there's... I'm expecting a visitor. "
"Oh! But this won't take long." She stood there with laid back confidence that lured most men to look their fill. He neutrally eyed the slim-fitting turtle neck that hugged her breast and tight jeans that hung low, her scarlet painted lips pursed in a pretty pout. "I wanted to talk about the session we had the other day," she added quickly.
Jamie crossed his arms across his chest. "Couldn't this wait until our next appointment?"
She took a cautious step closer, her expensive scent drifting in the air. "I'd rather talk about it now. This is just not about your therapy." Her blue eyes seductively landed on his lips. "I want to discuss something personal too."
"Sorry, personal won't do, I'm afraid. Ye're my therapist."
"Jamie, how long have we known each other?"
"Long enough ..."
She smiled, her hand brushing something away from his shoulder. "What's wrong? Surely your girlfriend won't mind your therapist coming over to check up on your progress, will she? We live in a small place, and we all know each other here."
"Her name is Claire ..."
"And I heard she's with Tom? Is that right?"
He smothered a sigh as he could tell what this was all about. Though Geneva was an attractive lass, he'd always only felt a minor buzz for her, which paled to the mind-blowing reaction Claire caused with just a single look. Where Claire was never more than anything but herself, Geneva always tried too hard. And it wasn't just all physical with Claire. It was their connection to each other's mind and soul. The way she made it easy for him to allow her to see his vulnerability and the way she'd let him in when no promises had been made on his part when they first met. Thinking back to the other day, he shook his head. He'd known the steaming anger that had risen within him when he'd first heard of Claire meeting with Tom and how that rumour almost made him lose his sense of judgement. He could not allow room for any gossip to go around, especially when Claire was away. Geneva should definitely not come in. 
"Look, as ye can see, I'm fine. I dinnae think it's a good idea us meeting like this. Let's keep personal stuff away and keep this professional, aye?"
She took a while to accept his dismissal. Sheer frustration swept over her face before she managed to compose herself. He tried to offer any semblance of an apology, but she cut him off. "I'm the one who understands your condition and how tough it is to live a normal life with your PTSD. And I know better than anyone else right now how to handle it."
Irritation coasted down his back. "There's no doubt you're a brilliant therapist, Geneva. But I am much more than a textbook scenario. Something Claire has always understood."
"But for how long, Jamie?"
"That is none of your concern," he said cooly. "Now, please go as I have things to do."
Her back straightened with steely dignity, and Jamie could tell every movement was measured to create the most dramatic effect. It was another detail he found unattractive and probably why he'd never acted on Geneva's crush for him. "Here's my theory," she began in a low voice. "You're just with her because you needed to fix someone, and she fits the bill. That's what you've been doing all your life - fixing everyone's problem. You'll never be happy, Jamie, if you keep repeating the same pattern over and over again."
He swallowed his anger. "How I choose to live my life is my concern, and if it means repeating the same pattern, then so be it. Forcing me to see things the way you want me to will only piss me off. So while I still have patience, please go."
He took a tentative step backwards, waiting for her to leave so he could close the door. Instead of walking away, she took him by surprise and threw herself against him, looping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his.
Christ! Repelled by the assault, he grasped her shoulder and pushed her away. "What the bloody hell was that?" he gritted angrily.
Face red, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Mark my words, it's just a matter of time before Claire is unable to deal with your PTSD anymore. I know the pattern, and I've seen it a million times. Most men with this condition end up alone because no one fully understands the extent of what they go through. Oh sure, the people in their lives say they understand but do they really? It's a scary thing for most and an uncomfortable situation to live in. As for me ... I know, and I understand, and I can handle it because I've studied and worked with people like you. And when that day comes, and she leaves you for good, know that I'll be here waiting." 
"Just because you know my history, it doesn't make ye an expert in knowing how my life will turn out to be. And ye don't know a thing about Claire, her heart, her resilience ..."
She snorted in disgust. "You just wait and see." With that, she turned around and walked off. 
He almost choked. Has the lass gone mad? His skin crawled with icy foreboding as he glanced across the street, his eyes searching for his neighbour. To his relief, Mrs Fitz was no longer stood in the garden to witness Geneva's kiss. A sudden ugly thought came to him, and he wondered what Claire would do if she'd been in his position. Jamie shook his head and immediately dismissed the notion. Tom wouldn't dare. Jamie had already made sure, loud and clear, that Claire was off-limits.
When Geneva's kiss drifted back to the forefront of his mind, he grimaced. His first impulse was to ignore the whole incident. But on second thoughts, he should tell Claire in case words of it reached her before he could explain. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure no one had witnessed that weird occurrence, and if someone did, it would surely be tonight's topic on every dinner table in Broch Mordha. Worriedly, he glanced up and down his street and only saw an unfamiliar car and driver on the phone. Probably Mrs Fitz's new guest, he figured. Satisfied with that thought, he shut the door.
Attempting to get his composure back before he called Claire, he headed for the sideboard in his dining area, grabbed a bottle of whisky, and poured himself a measure. He threw back a shot, his eyes watering slightly in deference to the burn that slid down his throat. He was about to pour another one when the doorbell rang. Again.
What does she want now? He slammed the glass down on the dining table and made his way back to the door. This time he was going to tell Geneva to cancel his therapy appointment. The lass was mad, and he hadn't known the extent of it until today. He'd always thought of her crush for him as a harmless fancy, but obviously, with Jenny's meddling, she'd set her hopes up. This time, he's had enough. With irritation simmering in his guts, he opened the door ...
And was met by an imposing figure obstructing the daylight. 
Jamie heard an unintelligible grunt in greeting, and the smell of tobacco invaded his nostrils. He peered at the face, but it was shadowed by a wide-brimmed fedora hat and several days worth of stubble. He blinked to rid the cobwebs threading patterns on his brain and forced his body to straighten to its full height.
"What's that on your mouth?" the man growled.
What the ...? "Quentin?" 
"You got lipstick on!"
Horror swooped in as Jamie realised he was still exhibiting the evidence of Geneva's kiss. He immediately swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and instantly felt nauseated when he saw the smudged scarlet on his knuckles. Jesus! "It's not ... it's..."
"It's not my niece's," the older man finished with a cock of his bushy eyebrow.
"It's not mine either," Jamie retorted without thinking. Ah, bloody fuck! "I mean ... it's not what ye think."
"I would certainly hope it's not yours." Quentin narrowed his eyes at him, taking his measure. Jamie did the same to him. He wondered what the man was thinking, but Claire's uncle spoke again before he got a chance. "Well, are you letting me in, or are we just going to stare at each other like a couple of dafties?"
Who the fuck does he think he is? But he quickly reminded himself this was Claire's uncle, so he slightly softened his stance. Swallowing the sour taste in his mouth, Jamie took a step back and motioned Quentin into his home. "Come in." 
Ignoring Jamie's dark look, Quentin strode into his cottage, but he's brought up short when he saw the whisky and shot glass on the dining table. He plopped his sling bag onto the chair, opened it, pulled out a tequila bottle and placed it on the table. Then he turned around and slid his hands into his pockets. "You and I, lad, are going to talk before my niece arrives." 
Jamie shut the door and eyed Quentin, carefully pondering his words. As he'd suspected, Quentin was very much like Harry but with broader shoulders, an intense darker face, and eyes that seemed to flash with diabolical laughter. It was a face that had probably seen too much in his lifetime. All his mannerisms were large, confident and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild cat, and when he stood in his space like this, he appeared to be a wild animal held in a cage too inadequate for it. His features might be similar to Harry's, but yet, their difference was like night and day.
A scoff rasped his throat. "I've had enough forced therapy for the week, thank ye very much."
"If I didn't know you any better, I would have bloodied your nose after seeing that lipstick on your mouth."
"If ye're dying to punch me on the face, then give me yer best shot. I dinnae have to explain anything to ye. I've done nothing wrong."
"No, you haven't," Quentin sighed, nodding his head. "I saw what passed."
Jamie absorbed that while keeping his features impassive. "And yet ye're still judging me."
Quentin's mouth twitched, but his eyes remained serious. "I'm not."
"Right from the start, it felt like ye've been giving me the first degree."
Quentin disregarded his words with a shrug. "I was just making sure Claire's in good hands. She's all I have."
Jamie understood the sentiment. He would have probably done the same if he'd been in Quentin's shoes. Christ, hadn't he felt like committing murder when he'd first found out about Tom?
"We've met before, you know?" Quentin interrupted his thoughts.
Jamie's head shot up.
"Way before our video chat," the older man revealed. "But I figured you don't remember."
He didn't, so he shook his head.
Quentin took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh before placing it on the table. "Claire recently told me she just found out that it was you and your godfather, ...Murtagh...I believe his name was, who saved her from the car accident. She asked me if I knew." Quentin paused to discern Jamie's expression. When he couldn't seem to read anything, he proceeded. "I admitted I did and ..."
"Ye knew who I was?"
"No. Not until you told me your family name and mentioned Lallybroch near the end of our video chat. I thought Claire would be angry for not telling her, but she didn't say much else except that both of you have been clueless all these years. So if you have any questions about what happened, I'll fill in the void for you if it'll help you move on."
Jamie shoved a hand through his hair. Feeling suddenly restless, he went to the drinks' cabinet to retrieve shot glasses. He grabbed the tequila bottle, uncapped it, and poured two equal measures. "So now you want to diagnose me? Is that it?"
"Diagnose you for what?"
Jamie realised Quentin knew nothing of his condition. Claire hadn't told her uncle. He ignored the question and handed the shot to Quentin. "Why bring it up now?"
Quentin took the offered glass, raised a silent toast with Jamie, and simultaneously threw back the shot. They both flinched at the heat. "I owe you the truth," Quentin replied, placing the shot glass on the table. "Take it or leave it. I've been silent about it for years. Tell me what you remember, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Did he really want to know? The past would eventually catch up and come out, that much Jamie knew, so he might as well have it out in the open. Taking a deep breath, he paced to the window and with his back to Quentin, he began recounting what he could remember from the accident. He waited for the white noise or the torture to start swarming in his head, but to his astonishment, they never came. Though the memory of that fateful day was more vivid than ever, its power to hold him in a choke was diminished. The words flowed with ease, and it began to feel like he was describing someone else's story. When he was done, he turned around and saw just in time a shadow passed across the older man's face. He looked like ten years have been shaved off his life.
Quentin took a seat and clasped his hands together. "I lied to you the day when we first met."
Jamie stilled and looked at Quentin. "What do ye mean?"
"I was in Cairo when I heard the news of the accident. I immediately took the first plane out and headed here. I was told Claire was being taken care of by your parents and that both of you were inseparable. When I arrived at Lallybroch, you were holding Claire in your lap like she was the most precious thing." Quentin paused and smiled at the memory before descending back to that sad place in his head. "But when you laid eyes on me, that's when you lost it and started screaming. Claire screamed along with you ...God, it was awful. At that time, it hadn't truly sunk in what happened to my brother and his wife, and it was torture to see you kids in such pain." Quentin shook his head. "You were shouting something like ...I should be dead and that you've seen me go up in flames. You see, I've been told beforehand you'd witnessed the accident, and that's when it occurred to me you thought I was Harry. So I did what I thought was best at that moment ...I knelt before you and fibbed. Only because nothing could calm you down, and I wanted to ease your distress. I pretended to be Harry and told you I wasn't dead, and when you asked how I got away, I made up some story like managing to crawl out the last minute. Somehow that little white lie quieted you down."
"I honestly don't remember that part," Jamie whispered, taking a seat across from Quentin. "But in saying that, all the memories of that day are just beginning to resurface. I'm just starting to remember again. It all began when ..."
"When you met Claire for the second time," Quentin finished for him.
Jamie nodded with a small smile as he watched Quentin stood up and poured them another shot. 
Quentin gazed at him with all the seriousness. "May I ask you a question?" 
"Ask away." 
Quentin pushed the shot glass towards him. "What if, instead of Harry, you were the one that died that day?" He paused and looked directly into his eyes. "What do you think would you have missed in the years that came after?" 
Jamie frowned. "Why would ye ask such a thing?"
Quentin sighed. "Because lately, I've been asking myself the same question every day. I've searched for the answer going back through almost twenty years, and I've come up with almost nothing. Besides Claire coming into my life, I have nothing to show. Of course, there were a few memorable moments when I was granted an acknowledgement of merit for my work. And then there were a few rare occasions I got to spend time with Claire. But between those scraps of time, there's only a grey empty void. The rest of my days were spent going through the motions, keeping a barrier between me and the world. I realised, ever since my brother died, I've been living in fear that the same fate could befall me ... that's why I've never married. So you see now, Jamie, I haven't been living at all. And I don't want you to make that mistake."
Jamie gave a wistful smile. "I see that, and with everything happening, I'm just starting to understand. We all have to walk around lugging a past, getting from one step to the next. Just need a healthy way to release it, as Claire often reminded me enough." When Jamie saw Quentin nodding in agreement, he saw an opportunity. He cleared his throat and straightened himself. He'd just bonded with Claire's uncle, so surely that should mean something. "So ....Quentin," he began nervously, "does this mean ye're fine with me being with Claire?"
Claire's uncle went back to looking like he wanted to rip a head off. "No. I've just arrived after a long flight, and you haven't offered me anything. I haven't eaten in the last six hours, and you're asking me if I'm okay with you being with Claire? So far, all you've done is open the tequila bottle without thanking me for it and nought to impress me."
Ah, shite! Hearing that, he pushed himself to his feet. "I ken a few good places that serve excellent pub grub," he said rapidly.
"Do you not have food in your kitchen, lad?"
"Aye, I do, but since ye're starving, I thought it would be easier if we got something out," Jamie reasoned. "So, what do ye have in mind?"
Quentin glowered at him before slugging back the rest of his shot. "Somewhere where they serve greasy food."
Jamie stopped. "But Claire said yer heart ..."
"The greasier, the better," Quentin growled.
It was clear to Jamie he's still miles away from wholly winning over Quentin. He reckoned he's probably not going to win that battle today, and one plate of greasy food was not going to kill Claire's uncle. Ah, hell! Didn't his ma once said that the way to someone's heart is through one's stomach? There's a chance that this could still work. But before he could say anything, his phone buzzed, and he almost knocked over the chair, trying to grab it. "It's Claire."
Quentin rolled his eyes.
Jamie quickly read Claire's message and smiled. Ah, there's a God after all! He glanced up at Quentin. "She's coming back home tonight."
"I knew that! Now, how about that nosh you were on about."
"Aye ...right ...I ken just the place."
..........
Five Hours Later
"This is a shithole!" Quentin grumbled, slurring his words and shoving his unfinished plate of Bangers and Mash away from him.
Tough shite! Jamie glanced out the window and then looked back at the time on his watch. Damn it! A plate of food each, five pints of lager for Quentin and three pints for him later, still no word from Claire, and if she didn't come home soon, Quentin would drink him under the table. As it was, he's feeling rather tipsy already.
"You know what?" Quentin tipped the bottom of the pint glass in his direction. "Since we arrived here, you kept looking out that window every few minutes. Am I boring you, or is there something interesting out there? If so, care to share?"
Jamie blew out a breath. "Just wondering when Claire's coming home. Haven't heard from her since her last message.."
"Is that why you're looking outside? Does she know we're here?"
"No! Christie is bringing her back from Inverness." 
"Who's Christie?"
"Some bloke."
"So what's outside? You keep looking out there."
Damn, so many questions! Jamie pointed his finger towards the window. "See that red door over there? Christie lives in that building, first floor, window facing the street. We'd know when they've arrived."
"Is that why you brought me here so you could check every once in a while if Claire's arrived?"
The older man was on to him, but Jamie wasn't about to admit it. "You wanted greasy food, did ye not?"
Quentin shrugged without answering. 
Jamie checked his phone again and agitatedly rubbed a hand behind his neck. What's taking them so long? Wicked thoughts were beginning to seep in. Has Claire, by any chance, heard about Geneva's visit and kiss? It wouldn't be an impossibility as rumours tended to make their way out of Broch Mordha. A part of him knew that the alcohol was dulling his reason, so he mentally shook himself. He should have called Claire earlier, right after Geneva left and told her what happened, but of course, Quentin's arrival had interrupted him from doing just that.
"Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous."
"I'm just worried Claire would hear about that kiss ye witness earlier before I get to explain myself." 
A heartbeat passed. For the first time since Jamie had known Quentin, his tough demeanour slipped, and something akin to amusement flashed through. "Don't worry. If she's heard about it, she would have given you her two pennies worth by now, and that's putting it mildly. Of course ...worst-case scenario, you'll end up with your ears ringing for days after she's done telling you off." He smirked and raised his pint to his lips, his actions revealing he was only teasing. Jamie reined in his frustration and let it go without comment.
Obviously emboldened by Jamie's silence, Quentin leaned forward. "So, have you bought flowers for Claire for when she returns?"
"No."
"Why not? It would help your cause in case Claire heard about that kiss."
Jamie glared at Quentin. "Thanks for rubbing that in. But I dinnae have time. I was too busy entertaining ye. Besides, I bought her fruits. She loves fruits. I even bought her a variety of them."
The older man's eyes bugged out. "She's got you eating healthy too, huh?"
"Nothing wrong with that," Jamie muttered. "She likes chocolates too. I got her a big box of it. Lindt."
Quentin glanced out the window to his side and perked up. "Hey, someone just went through that red door. I don't know what Christie looks like, but it could be anyone."
Jamie followed his gaze, and sure enough, the red door was just closing. He glanced back at his phone on the table, and though he knew he would hear the sound of notification, he still needed to look to assure himself. There was still no message.
"First-floor window light just went on," Quentin observed in a low voice. "That's Christie's place, right?"
His head snapped up. "What?"
"Oh, look, that's Claire, looking out. I know that hair anywhere."
Jamie looked and saw Claire just in time before she moved away from the window and pulled the curtain. He swallowed the odd lump in his throat. What the hell is she doing in Christie's place? Then it all came rushing in, in full force. He'd left Claire on her own because of his stupid panic attacks, and when he'd finally come to his senses, it was probably too late because Christie had already entered the picture. And now everything that Geneva had told him earlier was coming to fruition. No, no!
A split second later, Jamie burst out the pub's front entrance and ran across the street, Quentin not far behind him.
This cannae be happening. This is the worse nightmare ever. Ach Christ, please dinnae let this be true. Please. She's my lass. Mine. No, no, no. Oh fuck, I need her.
Thunder roared in his ears, and he'd only vaguely managed to process Quentin's remark on his overreaction and something about alcohol consumption. But all he could think of was how he and Claire needed to talk, now. He couldn't accept their relationship was over when it hadn't had a chance yet. 
Jamie stopped in front of Christie's building and looked up the window, shouting Claire's name, while Quentin manically pressed the buzzer for the first floor. A few passersby eyed them warily, and a voice called from somewhere, "what the bloody hell, Fraser!" probably thinking they'd gone off their nuts, but he couldn't give a fuck. His heart hammered wildly, unable to think straight. All he could see was Claire with Christie, together. He groaned miserably, the very thought chilling him to the bone. Oh, please, God no!
No one responded to Quentin's incessant buzzing, and when he tried to yank on the knob, it didn't budge. It remained lock.
Jamie gathered a few stones that he could find on the cobbled street and started pelting Christie's window, roaring Claire's name on top of his lungs. His effort was rewarded when the curtain slid open, and he saw Claire looking down, her hair all wild and loose. But by now, they've also attracted a wee crowd that stood in a semi-circle behind him. He didn't take notice and focused his attention on the woman above.
"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. We've only known each other for a short while, but it's enough for me to see that ye're the one for me. Forever. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."
Jamie paused to get his breathing back to normal and give Claire a chance to respond. But she remained immobile and continued to stare down at him. The crowd behind whispered and tittered, probably thinking he'd finally lost all his marbles. He even heard someone murmuring about him having had a bit too much to drink. But he didn't care even when he saw Quentin's shaking head, most likely in disgust at him. A hand touched his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, only focused on getting through Claire. "What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, except for the hush sounds from behind him, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. For ye, ye hear me? I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said." 
Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money. 
..........
Hands on her chest, Claire stood inert behind Jamie, listening with interest as he belted out Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give you Up in a scratchy voice. She tilted her head to the side and watched in fascination his stiff, sparse hip movement that went with his song. She'd wanted to alleviate Jamie's suffering and save him from further embarrassment, but midway through his moving speech, she'd caught a glimpse of her uncle. He'd given her a warning shake of his head, telling her to let Jamie finish pouring his heart out. So with a sigh, she stood back and waited. 
Oh, Jamie, Jamie!
This beautiful, rugged giant of a man and former SAS soldier was singing to her as though his life depended on it. How could he think she'd left him? She needed to put her arms around him and reassure him that he's the one for her too and that there's been nobody else but him.
"Jamie!" she rasped. When he didn't hear her, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Jamie! It's me, Claire!"
Jamie stopped and whipped around, his eyes taking her in, in total disbelief. "Sassenach?" he whispered. "It's ye."
Her throat constricted. "Uh-huh."
His head jerked back up to the window and then back to Claire. He looked as though he wanted to believe he was really seeing her but could not see past his fear just yet. "To whom the bloody hell was I proclaiming my love to then if ye were stood here all along?" he asked, throat working with emotion.
"You were singing to Mary Hawkins, Jamie," she croaked. "The star author of our publishing company."
"And what the hell is she doing up at Christie's place?"
Claire grimaced. This was really a sensitive subject, and they were talking about a public figure, and a small crowd was watching them. So she stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "I think Mary and Tom have a thing for each other. And I have a sneaking suspicion ..." she glanced up at the window above where Mary still stood. "Tom is not going to be please when he finds out it was you who interrupted whatever they're up to."
"James Fucking Fraser!"
It was Tom, wherever he was shouting from. Jamie didn't wait to find out because, in one quick movement, he took Claire's hand and made short work of getting them into the dark alley to the applause and cheers of the bystanders. Laughing, they ran and ran until they were far away enough from prying eyes. And there in the darkened path, its only illumination coming from the full moon above, they found one another once again in each other's arms.
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Dear Readers,
Firstly, thank you all for your feedback in the previous chapter. I'm going to keep this short as I still tire easily.
As I've mentioned before, I haven't been well the last few days; hence the delay for this instalment. I hope you enjoyed this one. If there are any inconsistencies and grammar mistakes, I blame them on my medication. Haha! 
So that said, thank you all for the messages on my Tumblr, your feedback and kudos on AO3, and mostly for your patience. Take care always of yourself, and keep spreading the love vibe! X
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thewritewolf · 3 years
Text
No, Really
Summary: Adrien can no longer deny it - he is in love with Marinette! The only problem is, she has made it absolutely clear that she is definitely not interested in him. But when he discovers that Marinette might be harboring feelings for Chat Noir, Adrien decides that there is only one way to get together with her: Reveal his identity.
Trouble is? She doesn't believe him.
Hello and welcome! This fic was written for the @totographszine, which was publish for free here. Go check it out, the wonderful @anna-scribbles even did some excellent art of this fic in there.
Read on Ao3
Without any further ado... Enjoy!
Adrien was in love with Marinette. There was no getting around that any more. But, unfortunately, it didn’t seem that she felt the same way.
Ever since he had come to terms with his feelings, he’d been trying to flirt with her. A few cheesy lines here. Some lingering touches and eye contact there. Compliments scattered throughout the day. Although, as he had realized now, it was harder to compliment her more than he already had been. How had it taken him so long to figure out his feelings?
The worst part of it was that she even flirted back! Which may sound great, but his experiences with Ladybug had taught him that flirting back could also mean friendly banter. It was a frustratingly similar experience, which he chose not to dwell on too hard.
And just like with Ladybug, he was at least appreciating the friendship that he could share with Marinette. Now that she had begun to open up to him, he was learning all sorts of things about her. Her favorite foods, what exactly tickled her most, her little mannerisms.
One day he learned the most important little fact about Marinette of them all.
“What is it with you and crushin’ on celebs, girl?”
Adrien recognized Alya’s voice at once and his eyes widened when he realized who she was likely talking to on the other side of the locker.
Sure enough, Marinette let out an irritated groan. There was a sound of a locker opening.
“What makes you think I have a crush on him? Just because I drew him in my notebook—”
“Oh sure, if you were just drawing him, that’d be one thing. But the hearts and kissy faces tell a whole different story.”
Adrien stood stock-still, listening as intently as he could. It felt as if his heart had
stopped beating. Had he failed to win the hearts of both his crushes? Would he ever get a lucky break just for once?
“They weren’t—that’s—no! Those were …” Marinette sputtered and eventually mumbled something that sounded a lot like “spades.”
“Spades.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying, girl, if you want I could probably mention your name the next time I see him. Sure it’d be harder to pull off than with blondie, but I’m down.”
“Drop it, Alya,” Marinette said half-heartedly. The locker door was shut and they walked toward the entrance. For a moment, he was scared they would turn around and see him eavesdropping. “I’m sure Chat Noir doesn’t want to have my number pushed into his hand.”
Adrien’s eyes widened as he suddenly jolted to life. Chat Noir?
“Maybe. We’ll only find out if we give it a shot.” Their voices got more distant as they walked away. “At least we know you’ve got a type now.”
“Alya!”
In his heart of hearts, Adrien hoped that type included boys with green eyes and blond hair. Would it be too much to ask that she fall for him a second time? Not just as Chat Noir but as Adrien?
It was there, standing alone in the locker room, heart pounding in his throat and feeling light headed, that Adrien was suddenly struck by a plan. And while he was no Ladybug, he was pretty confident about this one.
After all, he didn’t need to make her fall for him twice. She just needed to find out who Chat Noir was.
--------------
His first opportunity took way too long to arrive. The need to confess his secret identity to her had been weighed against his duty not only to Paris but to Ladybug. He was as certain of Marinette’s trustworthiness as he could be, but he needed to be sure that she and only she heard him.
Besides, it made confessing his feelings a little easier too, which was honestly weighing just as heavily on his mind. Sure, safety of Paris and fighting Hawkmoth and all that, but there was also his poor battered heart to take into consideration. Ladybug had been gentle with her rejections, but they still stung as much as being tossed into a wall by a dozen akumas.
It took over a month for a golden opportunity. The four of them had been studying in Marinette’s room when Alya had left to go babysit her sisters, taking Nino along with her. Adrien watched them slowly pack up and amble over to the trap door, silently screaming every time they stopped for another little chat. But eventually, they did leave. Nino’s cap disappeared below the floor and the trapdoor shut behind them. It was late enough that Sabine and Tom had gone to bed already, but not so late that Adrien would have to leave yet, at least not for a couple hours.
Swallowing against the suddenly dryness in his throat, Adrien looked at Marinette. All thoughts of the physics homework in front of them banished the moment he saw her tongue poking out the side of her mouth, her brow furrowed in concentration.
How could one person be so cute?
Her bright blue eyes flickered up at him. “Something wrong, Adrien?”
There wasn’t going to be a better time. It was now or never.
“Marinette … I’m Chat Noir.”
The sound of her pencil scratching along the paper stopped as she stared at her homework. There was a long moment of silence wherein Adrien silently panicked. After a few seconds that stretched into infinity, which Adrien spent praying that she would say something, anything, she finally spoke.
“Yeah, okay.”
She said it with a snort and a chuckle. It was like when he was experimenting with different jokes for her and he found one that didn’t quite land but didn’t completely fall flat.
She returned back to her homework, and the sound of the pencil resumed.
“Okay? That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Um … I suppose I can add a ‘haha’ in there too? If it makes you feel better?”
“You’re not supposed to laugh!”
“Then it’s not a very good joke.”
“It isn’t a joke,” Adrien said, crossing his arms haughtily. This was not going how he had planned in the slightest.
Marinette raised an eyebrow as she sat up. “There is no way you are Chat Noir.”
“Why not? I’m cool!”
“Exactly, and Chat Noir is a massive dweeb.”
Adrien gasped, scandalized. “Take that back!”
“I will not. Besides,” she continued, raising her hand, “there are plenty of things Chat Noir is that you aren’t and vice versa.” She raised a finger for each point. “Chat Noir is loud, outgoing, with a sharp tongue, and he’s a flirt to boot. Plus the whole massive dweeb thing.”
“And what about me?” Adrien pouted, almost dreading the answer. “Adrien Agreste me, I should say.”
“You’re quieter, to start with.” There was a faint blush on her cheeks. Maybe it was easier for her to describe someone who she thought wasn’t present. “You’re considerate and kind and a perfect gentleman.” She smirked and chuckled. “At least, you usually are.”
Adrien put his hands together and brought them next to his lips as he took a deep breath. He was suddenly reminded of all the times he’d made reservations or tried to set up an account on some website under his own name, only to have it deleted because it “couldn’t possibly be actually Adrien Agreste.” By this point in his initial planning stages of confessing to Marinette, they were already organizing their first date between passionate spells of making out, not trying to determine if he really was himself.
But Adrien was nothing if not adaptable.
With a wide, toothy grin worthy of his alter ego, he leaned forward, putting himself dangerously close to her face. The faint blush she’d been sporting flared to life and spread across her entire face. Her eyes went large as he purred out a reply.
“What an unfortunate alley cat I am, baring my soul to a beautiful princess and she doesn’t even believe me. Whatever shall I do?”
“W-wow, you’ve … you’ve really practiced this, h-haven’t you?” She put on a brave face and scooted backwards.
“You could say that. You could also say I’ve got a lot of experience with the whole Chat Noir flare.” The smile became more genuine as he added teasingly, “And it looks like you think Chat Noir might be more than just a massive dweeb, hmm?”
“Y-yeah?” She got back some of her composure—not much, but enough to start bantering back at him. “And what else is he then?”
“A cool cat, maybe,” he said, tossing his hair and running a hand through it. “Or, even better, a fine feline.” He grinned and finger gunned at her.
Marinette snorted. “You’ve definitely nailed down some of that Chat Noir full-of-yourself stuff. Congrats on getting your research done at least.”
“Not research. Just living the life, Pigtails.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Very creative nickname.” She smirked and crossed her arms. “Then again, it’s better than princess or my lady, so I’ll take it.”
“Hey now, Ladybug likes me calling her that, even if she tries to hide it.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “Somehow I doubt that. But seriously, whose idea was this? It feels like Alya had a hand in this. I just know it.”
“Why would Alya get me to try to tell you I’m Chat Noir?”
“She never gives up on her ships is all.” Marinette’s eyes went wide and she threw her hands over her mouth. “Forget I said that!”
“But I—”
Her hands went straight for his mouth. “Forget!”
He held his hands up in surrender and she backed off.
“Come on, though. What’s so hard to believe about me being Chat Noir?”
“I just can’t see you and Chat Noir being the same person. You’re both so different!”
“Okay, first off—yeah, I can be quiet sometimes,” Adrien admitted. “But you’ve seen how I am with my friends, when I’m comfortable. I can be just as outgoing as I am in the mask!”
Marinette massaged her temples. “So what, you’re saying you have to be with close friends to be as confident as you are making terrible puns in front of all of Paris?”
“Well, the mask helps a little,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all, then I don’t have to think about how what I say will impact the company or get yelled at by my father. I get to just … be wild.” He gave her a timid smile. “I suppose sometimes I go a little overboard, huh?”
Her blush deepened. “Y-yeah. I guess you do sometimes.” She cleared her throat and schooled her expression back into a skeptical one. “Assuming you are Chat Noir, of course.”
“Of course.” Quietly, he added, “You know, Adrien me isn’t the only one who is ... kind. I’ve done it plenty of times in the mask.”
“I mean, yeah, you do the heroics and everything, but I was talking about something—”
“Gentler?” he said with his best Chat Noir grin, which made her eyes widen like saucers. His voice was still barely above a whisper. “Like when I comfort akuma victims or sponsor animal shelters?”
“I—yes, like that,” she admitted in the same soft tone. A little stronger, she poked his chest and gave a small smirk. “But don’t you think Ladybug will be mad that you revealed your identity? You promised not to do that, you know. Assuming you really are Chat Noir.”
“Maybe I should have asked her about it first,” he admitted, even as something tickled at the back of his mind. How did she know about the promises between them? “But I’m sure she’d understand if she knew. The value of love is something we both agree on.”
“I mean, I guess, but—wait, what?”
“And I suppose you’ve noticed how, no matter what side of the mask I’m on, I love to flirt with the person I love?” She gasped, but he just shook his head and laughed. “Finally get there? I mean, I’ve been flirting with you nonstop for like a month.” He smiled. “Maybe you and Ladybug should hang out. The everyday Ladybug and the real-life Ladybug. Both of you can be really dense when it … comes to … realizing … oh my god.”
Adrien saw the exact moment that she realized that he had figured her out. One moment she was watching him attentively. The next, her eyes had widened in panic, her pupils shrinking down to tiny pinpoints. He knew that if he did nothing, she’d start flailing her arms around and denying it.
The distance between them turned to nothing as he leapt toward her, laughing. She grumbled as he pulled her close, squeezing her tight against his chest, but she didn’t try to break free.
“Don’t be so proud of yourself. You only got lucky,” she said as she returned the hug.
“Luck or not, I finally found you … my lady.”
He looked down at her face at the same moment that she looked up into his. A moment laden with meaning passed between them before they both broke down laughing again. At long last, they had finally found each other.
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thebookwormfairy · 4 years
Text
Captain the Retired Police and His Puppies Part 3
Sorry for not updating this story in a bit, I got distracted. I'll be starting a permit tag list for all my Daminette stories so if you would like to be add, just let me know! On with the story
Masterlist
It had been a couple of day since Tom and Sabine left back to Paris
Ace was still Captain's number one priority
So when his girl told him she was making a quick run to the fabric store for a comission for Fang's human he was a bit worried but stayed behind
He did ask that Titus try to go with her
Titus agreed and ran up to Marinette as she was about to leave
Marinette was having a day to herself
Apparently there was a big emergency at Wayne Enterprise and everybody had to go handle it
If course this was totally fine
And Marinette told them as much
She just planned to work on Jagged's comission
But she ran out of fabric and had to go get more
Marinette tried to get Alfred but couldn't find him
Figuring he went grocery shopping Marinette sent a quick text to Damian letting him know she was going to leave for 1 hour tops
As Marinette was heading to the taxi after checking in on Captain and Ace, she was about to head out when Titus came trotting up to her with his leash in his mouth
Marinette: What is it Titus?
Titus nudge Marinette's leg with the leash still in his mouth
Marinette: Would you like to come with me?
Titus gave an enthusiastic bark
Marinette giggling: Okay. It should be fine. We're just popping into a shop real quick.
Marinette put on Titus' leash and sent another quick text to Damian letting him know she was taking Titus with her
The taxi driver took them to the closest fabric store and dropped them off at the corner
The girl and dog was walking by an alley when they heard talking from inside
A woman's voice with a Brooklyn accent: Is that the girl who was able to take down Eddie.
Another woman's voice: Yeah she's dating Wayne's youngest too.
Marinette watched as Harly Quinn and Posion Ivy stepped out of the alley
Marinette took a step back a Titus stood in front of his human's mate
Harley: Aren't you the cutest? Isnt she the cutest Ivy?
Ivy: Yeah but what are you doing out here? It's not safe right now
Marinette gathering her courage: I was just going to buy some fabric
Ivy: Well you need to get off the street now. Joker is doing one of his big plans right now
Marinette: Oh I'll just leave then.
Harley: No why don't you come with us?
Marinette: Umm
Harley wrapped her arm around Marinette ignoring the dirty look Titus was giving her and started to drag Marinette to her and Ivy's apartment a couple of blocks away
Ivy following along: You sure it's a good idea to kidnap Bruce's youngest kid's girlfriend?
Harley: It's not kidnapping, it's forced temporary adoption.
Marinette remained quiet as the two older women dragged her to a secondary location (a/n: STREET SMARTS)
Marinette could sense that these two didn't mean her any harm
And if worst comes to worst she could transform
Titus followed along keeping close to Marinette ready to protect her if anything went wrong
The group made it back to the apartment on one piece
Marinette was able to see parts of the emergency Harley eas talking about
Some streets they passed were completely destroyed
Marinette wondered if she could use her Miraculous Cure to undo the damage
She'll have to ask Tikki about it later
As Marinette entered the Villians' apartment she spotted a young boy about her age sitting on their couch petting two Hyenas
Harely: Hey Edwin, we're home and we brought a temporary guest
Ivy: Don't say it like that. Edwin this is Marinette we found her close to the situation and brought her here until she can be picked up. Marinette this is Edwin-
Edwin: Edwin, but people also call me Puzzler. I believe you've met my father, the Riddler
Marinette blushing: Oh yeah, sorry about what happened at the club
Edwin grabs Marinette's hand and kisses her knuckles: Please do not apologize for such a brilliant show of cleverness. Father was never meant to go after you, rather your loud mouth classmate. Such a soft look but such a fire within, you are quite the paradox.
Titus growled at this strange biy showing too much affection to his boy's mate
Edwin laughing: Oh and is this your little dog? I thought you had a German Sheperd
Marinette: Oh no this is Ti....How did you know I have a German Sheperd?
Edwin taking a step towards Marinette: After watching your brilliance I had to know more about you so I did some research
Marinette taking a step back: Then you'll also know that this is Titus my BOYFRIEND'S dog
Edwin waving off the mention of Damian: yes yes
Ivy: Make yourself comfortable Marinette, you'll be here for a bit
Marinette sat down on a chair away from the two hyenas and the flirty teenage boy
Marinette gesturing to the hyenas: So what are their names?
Harley sitting between the two animals: Oh I'm so glad you asked. This is Lou and Bud. Their my little babies!
Harley continued to baby talk the twon hyenas as Ivy turned back to Marinette
Ivy: So Marinette you're obviously here to visit the Waynes, how are you liking your time in Gotham
Marinette: Oh it's great! Originally Damian was suppose to come visit me this summer and I was going to come back for winter break, but with Ace pregnant and my dog, Captain's the father, we decided to switch so Captain and I could be her for the birth
Harley: Ace is pregnant!! Oh you'll have to call us when she gives birth!
Marinette laughing: Sure
Marinette and Titus spent 3 hours in that apartment with Ivy, Harley, and Edwin laughing and talking. She surprisingly felt safer with them then she did her old classmates
Marinette was having so much fun she didn't realize her phone had died
But Harley let Marinette know that she sent a message to the Waynes letting them know where Marinette was as soon as they got to the apartment
That did not help the Waynes though
They finally defeated Joker after 5 hours of fighting
Damian was ready to go back to the Manor and cuddle Marinette
So imagine his distress when he couldn't find the girl anywhere in the Manor and checking his phone showed that she left somewhere with Titus 3 hours before
He worry grew when he found a worried Captain pacing in Damian's room, waiting for his girl's return
Damian ran down to the cave where is family minus Bruce who had to deal with some messages were still debriefing
Damian panic: Alfred do you know where Marinette is?
Alfred: I believe she's in her room working on a comission
Damian: She's not! She sent me a text three hours ago saying she and Titus were going to get more fabric, but there's nothing else from her since!
Jason: What?!?! What if she got caught up in the attack?
Tim taking over the computer: I'll seeif I can track her phone to find where she is
After a minute of Typing Tim came up with nothing
Damian: We got to go back out there and find her! There's no telling what type of danger she could be in!
Jason: I'm with Demon Spawn let's go!
Bruce entering the cave: Everybody calm down, I got a message from Harley. She and Ivy found Marinette close to the action and took her back to their apartment. She's completely safe and their not even asking for ransom to get her back we just have to go pick her and Titus up
Damian: Then what are we waiting for?! Let's go get Angel!
Tim: Hold up Damian we need to change out of out costumes first
Damian: You guys do that I'm grabbing the car! And going there by myself!
Bruce: Damian calm down! Marinette's safe, atleast let me get change and go with you just to be safe okay?
Damian groaning in frustration: Fine but hurry up father
They were able to get Marinette back with no problems, but Edwin calling her Paradox in a flirty way As he said goodbye to her
Harley: I'll definitely be contacting you about that outfit you drew, I must have it!
Marinette giggling: Will do Harley!
That night Damian and Captain refused to let Marinette put of their sight to afraid that she'll disappear again
Though Marinette was able to talk to Tikki and she just might be able to help Gotham and fix the damage that has been done, but as Marinette laid cuddled up to Damian with Captain laying on top of her she planned to go out tomorrow night and she what she could do
And maybe find out the truth to where her boyfriend and his family disappeared to at night
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@felicityroth @northernbluetongue @mystery-5-5 @sidefrienda @tbehartoo @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @sonif50 @t-nikki10 @dawnwave16 @nach0
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Text
The Girl in the Bakery (Part 1)
It was another one of those days where Adrien Agreste just wanted to be someone else. Even with the glamorous lifestyle that came with his last name, there wasn’t anything that could outweigh Adrien’s craving of freedom. His entire life had been presented to him on a silver platter, except for the fateful day he received a black and red box. With Chat Noir, his superhero alter-ego, nothing stood in the way of being able to go wherever he wanted.
Maybe with the exception of Ladybug—not that he minded the hold that his partner-in-crime had on him. It was hard not to follow Ladybug anywhere she went, as her confident energy and natural leadership made her addicting to be around. 
She truly was the perfect woman in Adrien’s eyes. Beautiful, courageous, selfless, determined, yet stubborn, strict, and utterly irresistible. Ladybug was also a good kisser, not that Adrien would remember. The heroine in red had completely captured the heart of Paris, as well as her second in command. 
Rarely had Adrien been let out of the prison he called his home; however, with the powers of his miraculous, it was easy for him to escape out his window and into the world. He didn’t enjoy having to transform anytime he wanted fresh air, but it was the only way he wasn’t followed by his bodyguard or his father’s assistant, Nathalie. All he had to do was leave the record player on, echoing out the sound of Chopin or Beethoven, and he would get away with a few hours of free time. 
Usually, once Chat Noir’s feet hit the concrete of a deserted alleyway, he would turn back into Adrien and carry on his merry way--maybe take a walk through the park, get some ice cream, and avoid paparazzi as much as he could. But on this particular day, his leather suited counterpart seemed more appealing. Perhaps he was hoping to catch Ladybug on a daytime patrol or wanted to scale the Eiffel Tower, but something about staying Chat Noir just felt right.
He launched himself from roof to roof, occasionally waving at those who spotted him. His black ensemble made it harder for him to be seen due to the sky growing dark, but his green eyes and small yelps of joy made it very obvious to citizens which hero was out. Perched on the Louvre, Chat Noir hummed softly to himself. “Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady…”
“Chaton?” a voice spoke, ringing into the air with a sweet tone. Chat’s eyes darted up, settling on the blue eyed beauty standing behind him. A genuine grin stretched across his face, before replacing it with a smirk. Standing up quickly, Chat’s hand engulfed Ladybug’s and he pressed his lips to her knuckles in a playful kiss.
“Good evening Bugaboo,” Chat said, bowing slightly in a joking manner. “Nice of you to join me on this beautiful night.”
Ladybug rolled her eyes before taking a seat and gesturing for Chat to sit back down next to her. “It’s nice to see you too, kitty. But I can’t stay for long.”
Chat Noir’s smile fell before plopping himself next to his lady and clearing his throat. “Are you busy tonight?” he asked, realizing the disappointment in his voice. “Not that I can’t handle patrol by myself! And if there’s something you need to do, you can totally go do that.”
A light-hearted giggled escaped Ladybug’s mouth. “As much as I appreciate your concern, you know I can’t tell you to pro-”
“-tect our identities. I know. But you know that I care about you even without the mask. Whoever’s behind there, I still lo-” he cut himself off. “All I’m trying to say is that it’s not the end of the world if I know one detail about you. The real you.”
Ladybug stared at Chat for a few silent seconds, her lips pressed together in contemplation. She sighed, choosing her words carefully. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, something about his tone made her give in. “You know the bakery over on 12 Rue Gotlib?”
Chat nodded. His mom used to love their stuff. It was a rare treat he received, usually after more draining photoshoots, coming home to a box of chocolate croissants from Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. After his mother’s passing, he hadn’t even thought of the small business. A sudden craving for sweets came over him.
“Well, sometimes I help out over there. I’m not an employee or anything, but the owners let me take care of the smaller tasks. Like delivering cakes or working the register,” she said, her voice turning less professional and more care-free. A soft expression blossomed on her face, making Chat’s heart melt. 
Finally. He knew something about the woman he was so helplessly in love with. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was enough. Chat smiled. “Thank you for telling me. You can go if you need. I can handle it if Mr.Pigeon gets akumatized again.”
Ladybug laughed. He loved her laugh. “See you later kitty! Bug out!” And then she was gone.
Chat found himself staring after her with a lovesick smile. “Bye m’lady.” 
Clearing his throat, Chat turned around and once again started jumping from roof to roof. Landing on top of his own manor, he was about to swing back into his room, but a sudden hunger stopped him. He knew Nathalie would call him to supper soon, but if he was going to end up eating alone, he was at least going to eat something he wanted. 
Not that he disliked the meals provided to him by his chef, but the diets and cleanses got a little overwhelming at times. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss the taste of a certain flaky, delicious pastry. 
Before he could even process what he was doing, Chat felt himself making his way to 12 Rue Gotlib. Staring at the lit up windows and catching a whiff of the sweet aroma, he suddenly dropped down and was standing in front of the cute building. Peeking inside through the glass door, Chat caught a glimpse of a girl sitting at the counter, idly doodling in a notebook. 
Something about her--her eyes, her dreamy intensity she had aimed at whatever she was drawing, or the way she looked like she needed someone to talk to-- drew him in. Chat’s breath got caught in his throat as she glanced up, causing him to dart into the dark shadows beside the building. He thought for a moment.
“Plagg, claws in.”
The small kwami that was just in his ring shot out. “Adrien? What are you doing?” 
“I just wanted to go in for something to eat. I promise I’ll be quick,” Adrien entreated, looking at his supernatural friend with pleading eyes.
Plagg sighed. “Fine. But once we get home, I want cheese,” he said before going to hide in Adrien’s overshirt.
Adrien took a deep breath and smiled--and in he went. 
The girl in the bakery looked up from her notebook, immediately closing the book in front of her and smiling politely. “Hi! How can I help you?” Her voice was as sweet as the atmosphere around them. The way her eyes sparkled made it impossible to look away. She was gorgeous.
Adrien smiled back at her, taking extra careful steps. She looked so delicate that the blond couldn’t help but put extra effort into being as gentle with every movement. “Hello,” he finally said. His tone was soft, and made his voice sound more silky.
Adrien’s eyes wandered around the small bakery, everything looking delectable. His mouth watered with every new item he noticed.Then he saw the chocolate croissants. His finger pressed against the glass directly in front of them. “Two please.”
The girl nodded. She grabbed a box and a bag and began packing Adrien’s order. Meanwhile, Adrien racked his brain trying to think of something to say. But before he could even come up with a coherent thought, the girl was already handing him the bag. “It’s on me. You look like you’ve had a rough day. I hope it gets better.”
Adrien stared wordlessly at her. “Oh, thank you. I just haven’t been here in years, so it’s a little strange being back.”
The girl hummed in response before speaking. “Why’d you stop coming?”
“My mom died.”
Adrien mentally slapped himself in the face. The slightly taken back expression on the girl made him feel even worse.
But then she returned to the kind smile she had before. “I’m sorry for your loss. Feel free to come in anytime, okay? I’ll have a warm croissant ready for you every time.”
He stared at her. “I...never got your name.”
“Marinette. Yours?” She looked back at him expectedly.
“Adrien. Adrien Agreste,” he replied a smile finally painting itself back on his face. 
“Adrien? Like from that one ad?” she asked, giggling.
Adrien laughed along with her. “Yeah, exactly like the one from the ad.”
Then a woman walked in from the other room, looking like an older version of Marinette. Probably her mother, Adrien thought.
“Well, it was nice to meet you Adrien. Hopefully I’ll see you again, goodnight.” Marinette waved, before disappearing behind the wall guarding what seemed to be the kitchen. Adrien waved back, not that she could see him do so. Without another word, Adrien left.
He walked back to his home while the sun set behind him. Plagg floated alongside his companion with a knowing smile. He knew who Adrien just met, and it killed Plag that he couldn’t tell anyone.
 It was maybe 7 P.M. and Adrien knew someone would probably check on him soon. The bag of boxed croissants hung around his wrist, tempting him to eat one right there. But he waited.
“Plagg, claws out.” 
The small black cat had a look of dread before he was sucked back into the silver ring. Once Adrien was back as Chat noir, he jumped to his room just in time to hear a knock on his bedroom door. “Adrien? Time for dinner.”
“I’ll be right out!” he yelled before transforming back and heaving out a held breath. The croissants were set on his desk and he readjusted himself. Plagg flew out, his intentioned set on the mini-fridge filled with camembert.
Well he’s all set, Adrien thought as he opened his door and started downstairs. His thoughts were filled with celebrations. Today was a good day.
(Quick Author’s Note: Hi! Okay, this took me hours to write but I think I;m okay with it. Sorry for no Marichat in this part, but I wanted to set up a relationship between Marinette and Adrien first so he has a reason to visit her in the first place. Hope you enjoyed!)
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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years
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Mominette: Changes
Conner got a message from Marinette.
As soon as he saw the words "Something happened", he didn’t even wait for the rest.
He immediately got to Paris and burst into the Bakery. Tom and Sabine looked confused and worried, but let him go upstairs to where Mari and Adrien were.
The normal thrum of his siblings was weak, almost muted.
He rushed up to Marinette’s room, his mind racing the entire way. Was everyone safe? Are they okay? What happened?
He burst into the room.
He saw Marinette and Adrien. They're fine, but worried and Marinette looked almost on the verge of a panic attack. Adrien was comforting Marinette and getting her to breathe.
He saw Plagg and Tikki. They're fine. But similarly looked worried.
He glanced around again, growing more agitated.
He seaw Adrien and Mari. He seaw Plagg and Tikki. He did not see his siblings.
He was about to ask—more like demand what happened.
But was interrupted by a voice he’d never heard before.
"Conny?"
He turned to the chaise where there are three children wrapped in a blanket.
Three human children.
He could barely feel it, but the magic was still there, in them.
“What…happened?” He asked the duo. Because this was definitely not normal.
“It’s an akuma.” Adrien explained, being the calmer of the two at the moment. “She has the power to bring toys to life, but…they’re already alive.” He shrugged, helplessly.
“My magic inside of them mixed with the akuma’s.” Marinette said, looking extremely worried. “If we defeat the akuma and return everything to normal, who knows what will happen to them?”
Tikki nuzzled Marinette, mournfully. “I’m sorry, Marinette. This has never happened before.”
Conner’s attention had turned back to the three. All of whom somehow looked smaller despite being bigger than before.
The boy—blond hair and green eyed—Chaton—reached out a hand for him. And Conner couldn’t stop himself from reaching back in turn.
The boy smiled.
“Conny.”
The girls—one with dark blue hair, the other fully black—Littlebug and Minimouse—looked up at him. One curled in on herself and shivered. The other moved the blanket and patted the chaise, a clear invitation for him to join them.
He…really wanted to.
They look all of four years old. Bigger than they had been as dolls, but oh so much more fragile. Chaton’s hand in his own was so tiny and he couldn’t help but worry he would hurt him.
“M’cold.” Minimouse murmured, shivering.
And that pretty much settled it.
Within seconds, Conner was sitting on the chaise with all three siblings wrapped up in the blanket and curled into him.
“I’ll watch them.” He assured his parents.
The two paused, looking back to him in concern.
“Conner…”
“You both need to defeat the akuma, right? I’ll protect them.” He promised. And he meant it.
“It may help.” Plagg rationalized. “He’s got your magic, Spots.”
“Plagg?”
“There’s conflicting magic in your kids right now.” He explained. “The longer it stays, the more trouble it can cause. So the sooner you take out the akuma, the better. And he can keep them stable in the meantime.”
“But…what about after?” Marinette asked, still very much worried.
Tikki hung her head. “Plagg’s right. We won’t know until it’s over. But it would be best to resolve this quickly.”
Marinette looked over to her children, biting her lip in worry.
Conner nodded to her. “I’ll keep them safe.”
Adrien rested a hand on her shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s…let’s be quick.”
Both of them were clearly holding back tears as they kissed each of their kids on the head just in case. With whispered words, they transformed and were gone, leaving Conner alone with his siblings.
Conner did have magic from Marinette. It was weak due to the conflict with his Kryptonian DNA, but it was there. It was the link that let him bond with his family. It allowed him to sense where they were and how they were doing. And now, it let him help with the maelstrom inside the three tiny bodies clutching to him.
But there was only so much he could do. Due to his limited magic and limited experience in using it, he was only able to mostly serve as a rock to try and keep the three grounded.
“Conny…hurts…”
Perhaps for the first time, he actually cursed his Kryptonian side.
“I know.” He said softly, trying to soothe them.
All he could do was try to hold them together while waiting for the akuma to be defeated and hope that there would still be four of them when Ladybug and Chat Noir returned.
“It’ll be okay.”
__________________________
By the time the akuma was defeated, the three had passed out and Conner was exhausted. He barely responded to the two thuds on the balcony above them or the sound of the door springing open.
“Conner?! CONNER!”
“Mom…?”
She knelt in front of him, tired and worried. He didn’t like that expression. He wanted to reassure her, but apparently he didn’t feel any better than she looked.
“Hey!”
Oops. Sorry, Mom.
“Marinette. You need to cast the Cure.” Dad told her, firmly.
“But…what if…?”
“Don’t overthink it.” He said, taking her hand in his and resting his forehead against her own. “Trust your magic.”
“You c’n do it, Mom.” Conner whispered.
She clenched her eyes shut, but nodded.
Would there be any permanent effect of this?
Would they go back to being normal non-magical dolls?
Would they be okay?
Please…please let them be okay.
“Miraculous Ladybug!”
The Cure swept through the room and then throughout Paris. But all three only had eyes for the children and the effect the Cure would have.
Conner felt rejuvenated by the effects of the loveliness. His energy and focus restored, he looked down to the three children clinging to him.
To find three still very human children clinging to him. Asleep. But oh so alive.
“They’re alive.” Conner reported, awed.
“They’re…but they’re human?” Adrien asked in astonishment. He separated from Plagg before moving forward and touching Chaton, ruffling his hair—and yeah, that was real, all right. He looked up to Plagg and Tikki as she also reformed. “They’re just…they’re human now?”
Marinette gaped. “But how? I mean—is this okay? Are they okay? Did it not work?” She was almost on the verge of panicking again.
Minimouse didn’t like the noise, apparently, as she frowned in discomfort and curled more into Conner’s side. Conner placed a hand on her head, soothing her.
Tikki floated down to her as well and kissed her head for a moment. She appeared to be sensing something—analyzing, maybe? A minute passed before she parted from Minimouse and looked up at the three.
“It’s settled. The akuma’s magic is gone.”
“But…why are they like this then?!” Marinette asked.
“The Cure restored everything to how it should be.” Tikki explained.
“Shouldn’t they be dolls then?” Adrien asked. “Not that I’m complaining.” Because he certainly preferred his kids alive regardless. But this was…a surprise to say the least.
Tikki nodded to her chosen. “Conner received magic from you, Marinette. But as a result of the process made to make him, his magic is naturally rooted in stability and grounding.”
Conner blinked in surprise at that. “Is that how I’m able to have Kryptonian powers and magic?”
“In a way, yes. Your magic has focus in boosting your abilities and stabilization. When you used it to deal with the warring magic in your siblings, you did help stabilize them, but you…um…apparently convinced them that this is how they should be.”
Conner’s eyes widened. He looked up at the gaping Marinette and Adrien in shock. As well as growing horror as the full extent of what he’d seemingly done hit him.
“I…I didn’t mean to.”
Well, he did, apparently. But he didn’t know this would happen. He hadn’t meant to change them—or keep them changed. He’d just…wanted to anchor them. To keep them alive and safe. He hadn’t wanted to force anything on them.
In an instant, arms enveloped him and he was in the comforting and reassuring hold of his mother.
“You did everything you could for them and more.”
He felt his eyes watering.
“I’m so proud of you, Conner.”
Okay, yeah. Definitely watering.
Another hand rested on his shoulder. He glanced to the side and saw a smiling Adrien.
“It’s a surprise. And it’ll be different. But we can make this work.”
“But…but I changed them.” Conner murmured, uncertain.
“They were already changed.” Plagg replied in a blasé manner, floating lazily nearby. “You just held them together so the warring magics wouldn’t rip them apart. And given that they’re each more magical than you—no offense, kid—you aren’t capable of forcing them into a form if they didn’t want it.”
Conner froze. “Wait…what?”
Plagg rolled his eyes. “If they wanted to be dolls again, they would be. Keep up, kid.”
Tikki gave a giggle. “I think they wanted to be like you, Conner.”
He blushed. “They…what?”
But she had a point, didn’t she? The Dolls didn’t get to move about as openly as he did. They weren’t understood easily by anyone outside of himself, their parents, or the kwamis. They struggled to do things he could accomplish with ease. And though they liked that he would carry and hug them…they sometimes looked like they wanted to return the favor.
Conner had been jealous of them. Wishing in some ways he had been more like them. He’d never considered they could have felt the same towards him.
Even in their sleep, the three clung to him.
They were like this…because they’d wanted it. And he’d helped them keep it.
He drew them a little closer. And in turn allowed himself to be drawn closer as well when Marinette and Adrien also joined them in the growing cuddle pile.
All six of them stayed together for a while after that.
There would be things to do because of this. Arrangements would need to be made. Explanations given. History and paperwork and legalities.
But for now, they were together and safe.
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fenheart87 · 4 years
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Blue Changes
We had a fun little challenge, we picked a prompt and had 3, 15 minute sprints to write something for the prompt. Then 24 hours for light editing to finish sentences if needed, grammar etc. This is my take on the the prompt "Has anyone ever told you just how adorable you are Because you really are." Dedicated to @verfound 🧡
“Marinette, where is my favorite designer at?!” Jagged burst into the studio, Fang trotting happily next to him on her leash and Penny multitasking between her phone call and tablet. Technically he was supposed to be on a plane to New York, but decided to swing by Paris on his way because he had an idea that just could not wait and wanted to check on his unofficial niece anyways. There was only one speed bump in that plan, the studio was completely empty. The chaos of fabric strewn about and pieces half cut with scissors still mid snip definitely screamed someone was working hard or trying to at least, the mannequin with a half-pinned design and ripped fabric seemed to lean toward the latter.
“Looks like she’s not here… Must be taking a break. Penny, why don’t we order from my favorite bakery and make sure something extra special for Marinette. I’m glad we came here before the next stop on tour.” Jagged poked around at the sketches laying in abandon on the desk, some half crumbled on the floor and more stacked on a sketchbook.
“Seems like she is having some massive creators block… We should treat her when we have a break on the tour.” Penny suggested, already on the phone with Tom and trying to insist they would pay for their order.
Some of the sketches were brilliant but had marks of black throughout them, others were completely marked out and you could not even tell what the design was to start with. It hurt to physically see what pain Marinette was going through, most of the ones with the darker markings were of the same style. He could clearly see the thought of Adrien in the suits and matching dresses for Marinette, the anger of the marks showing something had happened or changed. Sighing heavily, Jagged gathered the papers, Fang batting the ones further away with her tail over to her owner. One paper had him blinking in surprise.
“Penn! Pen! Lookie here! D'ya see this?!” jagged shouted, shoving the paper into his assistant’s face, not even minding when she sighed and pushed it to a proper distance. It was a one-of-kind leather jacket and a custom hoodie drawn to match it. Either could be worn seperate or paired together. The colors were a contrast of electric blue and smokey turquoise, the theme was music and snake. Jagged recognized it as a rough sketch due to the lack of color or material notes along the edge that appeared on her finished drafts.
“Why was this crumpled up? It’s a really great idea!” Penny wondered aloud, noticing that the eccentric rockstar she commonly felt like she had to babysit was scheming. “Jagged no, whatever is it the answer is no.”
The door opened and in walked the designer they were looking for, Marinette seemed stressed and a bit run down. Her hair was thrown into a messy bun, one sleeve was pushed higher than the other and her shirt was wrinkled where it was tucked into her pencil skirt. Flip flops clacked along with her steps, another sign she was worn out if the basic shoe was more preferred to her custom made and very comfortable flats. An energy drink dangled from one hand and her design tablet occupied the other. Both guests watched as she made it all the way to her desk without noticing they were there.
“I have no idea what I'm going to do! I don't have anyone that fits that one or the orange one… I could make it a dress but who would wear it?! Ugh! I’m going to fail at this rate and then I won't graduate and I'll never design again, who would want something made by a failure-” Fang chose that moment to nudge her head onto the petite woman’s lap, startling her so bad she screamed and fell out of her chair.
“Well I reckon that I would love to have exclusive rights to all designs made by my favorite niece but we all know that’s not fair to the rest of the world. Now I know you are in a pinch and you’re stuck like a boat in the desert, so you’re going to take a break, spend some time with uncle Jay and make sure that you show poor Fang some love, she was all excited and you just screamed right in her poor face. C’mere my poor baby, Marinette is so mean I know.” Jagged showed the croc in love through pets and scratches. 
“When.. How, why?” Poor Marinette was lost and couldn't believe the rockstar was in her studio when he should've been halfway around the world for the next stop on his tour. 
“Okay, the only thing we’re doing right now is leaving all this behind for a much needed break for food and maybe a nap in your case. Time to relax and stop stressing for a minute." Penny authoritatively stepped in, stacking the papers on the desk, handing Marinette her purse and phone and with the help of Fang scooted the younger woman out the door.
Marinette protested "Wait I need to finish, it has to be done! I can't take a break, I just did!"
"Negative, now it's time for chow, and you need a shower, at your parents then we need to have a little chat. Ladies first!" Jagged gently shoved the designer into the car with cheer, allowing Fang and Penny to enter before him. 
"So my little brilliant niece, we have some great news and a rock and roll deal for you! Can't tell you what is until after you've taken a break though." They grinned as Marinette grumbles as she gave fang the attention she wanted until they pulled up to the bakery.
Getting out of the car first, Marinette sighed at the smell of her parents baking, the smell melting off some stress like butter melting on a fresh from the oven croissant roll. Her stomach grumbled and she opened the door for the other guests, sneaking an excited Fang upstairs to not scare the other customers. Deciding to take a refreshing shower, Marinette went to her bathroom and put on some zen meditation music before getting in the shower. Quick ten minutes later and she was feeling much more alive and hungry. On a whim she grabbed a random outfit that she had made but never worn, pleated plaid skirt with a red checker pattern offset by the off the shoulder fitted top in a burgundy color, and threw it on before joining her guests. 
"Oi looking good! One of yours?" Jagged shouted with his mouth full, causing Penny to smack his arm as a reminder to use manners. 
"Sure is! Never worn it before but decided change can be a good thing and sometimes you have to start the change instead of waiting for it to happen." Grabbing her favorite pastry and a croissant because you can't just smell one and not eat it, she missed the concerned look her adopted guardians shared.
"So your studio was, well, you seem to be having a hard time." Pen tried to be gentle but made a face at her words.
"Yeah… Life is… Changing." Marinette mused, picking at the pastry.
"Marinette, what can Uncle Jay do to help?" Jagged's serious tone drew her gaze and his heart broke at the sight of unshed tears.
"I uhm well. I- That is, we-" With a huff, she calmed down and a look of determination shone on her face. "Adrien asked me out, on a date date in this really elaborate way. I turned him down. I have no idea what I was thinking but when he asked me I was so happy and then all I could think of was blue and how soft its is and it can be so calm or so chaotic and it’s always changing like the ocean but yet it's always the same and there this feeling of calm and I just couldn't say yes."
The quiet settled into a slightly awkward silence, Marinette was ignoring it and Penny was having nonverbal argument with Jagged on what to say next. With an eye roll that spoke louder than her shouting at him, the assistant took the lead once more. Quietly she rose from the chair she was occupying and sat next to the young designer smoothing out the crumpled sketch she had taken from the studio.
"Is this the blue you're talking about?" 
"Yeah… That’s my blue." A gentle smile touched peach lips briefly, blue eyes going soft.
"Is this the skater kid?"
"Skater kid?" Marinette blinked in confusion.
"Nah Pen it's the boat kid."
"He has a name you guys!" Marinette broke down into giggles, looking much more like herself and less like a zombie just waltzing around and going through the motions. "His name is Luka, yes the one who went me skating with Adrien and Kagami, yes the boat kid who has a heart way too big for just his mom and sister. And now me…"
"Sounds like you made a change?" Penny prompted smiling widely.
"A blue one yeah, I did."
"Has anyone ever told you just how adorable you are?" Jagged shouted, picking up the younger woman and swinging her around as she shrieked. 
"Okay Jagged, let's not take over her whole day. We did have a reason to show up here after all." Penny handed the tablet to Marinette after he relinquished his hold. "This is what we're looking at for a surprise concert once we are back here in Paris. There's some issues I'm ironing out but I wanted to see what you think and if you would take lead on the design aspect."
"Wait, lead designer for your show?" Blue bell eyes swiveled between ocean blue and hazel sets, wide with disbelief and building excitement.
"Yup, this tablet is yours by the way. I do ask you to keep just business on it for the show, if you want more traditional sketches that's fine but once it's done it needs to be uploaded on here." Jagged explained, clapping a red clad shoulder.
"Oh you need an opening act? I've got that covered." The sparkle was finally back in her eye to match the mischievous grin.
"I agree with Jagged, are you sure no one has said it before because you really are adorable."
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Hopelessly Oblivious - The Doctor X Reader
A/N: My gosh! So many apologies for how late this is, I’ve been well off my game. Though, despite it all, I hope you enjoy this, @tagthetrekkie & all you lot who still read my stuff (I thank you all immensely!) Hugs!! :) x
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The medical field was always your calling. When you were younger, you had found a niche for helping others, and decided that you wanted to transfer that passion into a career. You trawled your way through the years at Starfleet Academy and graduated with some of the best scores of your class. Your first assignment came quickly; the USS Voyager.
Voyager was a relatively new ship to Starfleet, and you felt honoured to have been stationed aboard it. Excitement built in you as the day drew closer, and you wondered what it would be like to accompany the crew on their mission.
"Welcome aboard, Y/N," the voice of your captain, Kathryn Janeway, greeted you with a warm smile and a soft tone. Already you felt comfortable. "We're very excited to have you with us, I hope you find it accommodating enough."
You smiled back. "I feel like I've been here for years."
The captain introduced you to another crew member, Harry, who showed you around a little more before taking you to your quarters. He mentioned that you would be working with the Doctor they had aboard, and that piqued your interest. Before that point, you weren't aware there was another doctor. Excitement for the next day at its high, you tried to settle down and relax.
The morning came quick enough, and you rose with a good mindset, ready to start your first shift in the med bay. Getting dressed, you walked with a spring in your step, the closer you got, the nerves built up. Still, the excitement outweighed the anxiety.
Entering the doors, you were shocked to see how big the bay actually was. Inside, there was a young man waiting there for you with a smile.
"Hi there, you must be Y/N?" he asked, and you nodded. "I'm Tom, Lieutenant Paris, but please call me Tom. It's lovely to have you here, finally someone who isn't the Doctor to keep me sane here." You joined in with his laugh; so far, friendly faces all round had greeted you, and it felt like a family.
The Doctor made an appearance, and you were shocked to find he wasn't human, but rather a hologram. Not that it mattered, of course, but you thought someone may have mentioned it in the margin. He greeted you with a quick hello, before showing you round the bay and what everything was. He retreated to his office, leaving you with Tom to show you the rest of the ropes, as it were.
"You'll get used to him," he smiled, setting down her PADD and inviting you to sit alongside her. "He doesn't have the best bedside manner, but you'll warm to it soon enough. It's sort of nice in a really hostile way."
Laughing, you raised your eyebrows and cast your eyes towards his office door, wondering if what Tom had told you was true.
Weeks passed by on Voyager, and you were comfortable and well adjusted, having made some good friends already. Amongst them, to your surprise, was the Doctor. He was standoffish to begin with, as Tom had mentioned, though the more time you spent with him, the more he seemed to relax himself, opening up a little more and laughing with you. You were very glad he had taken a liking to you, as you had to him.
"Ah, ensign Y/N, good morning," he greeted you as you stepped into the medical bay, his usual happy tone lacing his words. "I hope you're in the mood to work, there's much to be done."
Smiling at him, you nodded.
"Good morning, Doctor, I am always ready to work, must just be the good company."
He raised his brows and you chuckled, setting down your things and reading the briefing notes for the tests you were due to run. Lost in the notes, you didn't realise the Doctor was staring at you still, wonder in his eyes as he watched you bury yourself in the task at hand. He was pulled out of his little daydream by your voice a few moments later.
".. over there. Is that right, Doctor?" You lifted your head to see him blink a couple of times; it was clear he hadn't been listening. "Did you catch that, Doc?" You laughed, seeing him visibly cringe at 'Doc'.
"Apologies, I did not, I was rather.. distracted." His tone was flat in his reply, making a statement that said he didn't want the matter pressed. You shook your head with another chuckle, getting back to your work once more. What neither of you saw was Tom and Harry, a knowing look on both their faces that said they could see something you both couldn't.
"So," Tom began, walking to you once the Doctor had left for his office. "Can I come to the wedding?"
"Tom!" you accosted, though you couldn't help but laugh with him.
"Oh come on, Y/N, I can see the way you both look at each other, we're smarter than you'd think," Harry joined in, and nudged your arm playfully. "Besides, I've never seen him take to someone like that; he never acts like that around anybody."
As the pair began to walk away, you found yourself sitting on their words. Did he like you in such a manner? Had you ended up feeling the same? Allowing your mind to wander, you began thinking of the interactions you and the Doctor had over the past month. Fleeting glances here and there that always ended in one shyly looking away, lingering touches when one was handing the other equipment; there were too many subtle signs you had been blind to until Tom and Harry had mentioned it all. Your head began to hurt, and you rubbed it to try and ease the pain.
"Y/N, is everything alright?" The voice of The Doctor brought you out of your thoughts and you smiled, shaking your head slightly.
"Oh, no, Doc, thanks." Looking at him, he seemed very unconvinced, almost a show of care spread across his face. "Really, I'm alright, often I think too much and create problems."
That must have been the first time you heard him laugh, and you'd discovered your new favourite thing. Eyes widening ever so slightly, you watched him laugh and smile at your statement, repeating the same head shake you had done prior, eyebrows raised.
"If you're sure, there isn't much I can do for overthinking, I'm afraid." His voice was calm and soft, much more so than when he addressed others, or when others were around in general. You wondered just how many other people saw this side of him. Titling your head, you spoke up, surprising yourself in the process.
"Hey, any chance you might fancy joining me in the holodeck tonight? I heard Tom has a new program we could try out?" Your voice was confident, throwing him off guard; so rare were the times you were as bold as that. The extended period of silence irked you, and you began to go back on your idea. "It's alright if not, I mean, I, uh-"
You were cut off with a hand on your arm and a calm, rather honest, smile from The Doctor.
"I would love to, Y/N, thank you."
You smiled at each other, perhaps a little too long, stopping only as you both caught sight of two senior officers beaming at you both. As Tom winked at you, you excused yourself, bidding the Doctor a good day and telling him you'd see him that night. Turning on your heels, you sped after Tom down the hall, missing the loving look from the EMH as you left, who smiling to himself before returning to duties.
Hopelessly oblivious, the both of you. In love, and hopelessly oblivious to it all.
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Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 1| ... We Go To My Room?
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Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters
Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?
Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthly relationships
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Five Years Earlier
“Yes, I accept!”
Emma hung up the phone and ducked into a nearby hotel where she knew the bar served half-off appetizers and cheap drinks. A packed bar in the early evening did not bode well. Emma waded through the sea of ill-fitting suits and too-tight shift dresses to reach the bar. She motioned to the bartender who came over to take her order.
“Jack and Seven, please.”
The bartender slid the drink over and she searched for a place to sit. She found a small table in the corner with two chairs. She collapsed into the nearest one and took a big swig of her drink. Emma pulled her phone out and started on a text to her mother with the good news.
“Excuse me, but I believe you took my seat.” a smooth voice with a British accent commented.
She turned to see a tall man smiling behind her. His curly blonde hair gelled in place. She stood to move.
“It’s all right. I’ll take the empty one.”
“Sorry...” Emma paused looking at the man.
“…Thomas, Tom. And you are…?”
“Em…Emma.”
“Em…Emma. Nice to meet you. Mind if I share the table with you? There are only limited options around.”
She nodded. Tom sat down, scooting the chair over to give Emma plenty of room.
“You aren’t from around here, are you?” Emma asked, rolling her eyes at the obvious question.
Tom chuckled.
“What gave it away? The accent?”
“The suit.” Emma said, deadpan and Tom broke out into a full laughter.
“So, what brings you to America, Thomas?” Emma asked as she took a long drink of her whiskey, finishing up what was in the glass. It burned down her throat.
Tom sipped his drink while contemplating the question.
“I’m here to do some interviews on a recent project I did.”
“Oh, what line of work are you in?”
“I’m an actor.”
Emma’s ears perked up.
“Would I have seen you in something?”
Tom almost choked on his drink, not used to having to explain his burgeoning celebrity status.
“I played Loki in the Thor movies and The Avengers.”
Emma stared back, unmoved.
“I don’t watch superhero movies.” Emma’s nose crinkled up at the word “superhero.”
Tom continued, digging into his filmography, stunned that she didn’t know about Loki.
“Only Lovers Left Alive? War Horse? Midnight in Paris?”
“Nope.”
Tom frowned.
“I just finished a run of Coriolanus at the Donmar.”
Emma leaned in.
“Ooh. Shakespeare.”
“You know Coriolanus? I’m impressed.”
“Oh, the Bard and I are on intimate terms. He was the subject of my senior thesis.”
Tom’s eyebrows drew up, and he pulled back.
“Oh! I studied Classics at Cambridge.”
Emma sipped the rest of her drink, already getting tipsy on her empty stomach.
“So Cambridge, can you say something in Latin?”
Tom gulped down the rest of his whiskey for some liquid courage. He unbuttoned his jacket and swooped it back with dramatic flair before leaning close to Emma. Heat radiated off of him like a furnace. She fought the urge to just melt against his broad shoulders. Tom cleared his throat before continuing.
“Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori.”
Emma raised her glass.
“May we all yield to love.”
Tom raised his now empty glass.
“To love,” they clinked their glasses together. Tom went to drink and realized he finished his drink.
“I think we need more drinks. What was yours?”
“Jack and Seven .”
Tom’s eyes crinkled as he smiled.
“Whiskey. My kind of girl.”
Emma blushed as Tom headed off to the bar. Emma’s stomach flipped. God, he was handsome. After several minutes, he returned two glasses in hand.
“So, are we celebrating or drowning our sorrows?” Tom asked as he handed over the drink.
“Celebrating. I just booked my first big job.”
Tom beamed and brought the glass to his lips.
“Congratulations! What kind of job?”
“Acting.”
Tom spit his drink back into this glass.
“You could have led with that.”
“And miss that spit take? Not a chance.” Emma quipped, openly flirting now.
“What kind of acting job?”
“A minor part on a soap, but there is an opportunity to grow.”
“I wish you well.”
They clinked glasses once again. Two drinks turned to three, which turned to four. Emma and Tom talked about everything from horror stories from the acting trenches to family to hopes and dreams for the future. After the fourth drink, the bartender started giving them the eye.
“I think he wants us to leave.” Emma giggled from both alcohol and giddiness running through her veins. Her smile faded and she let out a breathy sigh as she had to leave.
“We should take this upstairs.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at him.
“Excuse me?”
“You know, take the conversation some place private. Like my hotel room.”
She gulped. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe her good mood, but going up to Tom’s room sounded enticing.
“You know what?” Emma slammed her hands on the table, rattling the glasses, “That is a brilliant idea.”
Tom laughed and the two of them rose to leave the hotel bar. They giggled the entire way through the lobby. Tom rocked back and forth on his feet, waiting for the elevator. Emma sidled up to Tom, fingers brushing up against his. The skin on skin contact sent electricity through Emma’s body. There was more than just alcohol coursing through her veins as she drank in the sight of Tom.
He glanced over and smiled at Emma. Tom marveled at the sight of this woman next to him. Her dark brown hair pulled into a simple ponytail and her casual clothes failed to convey the complex personality underneath. He was drunk and not on whiskey. He wanted to know everything about Emma.
The elevator dinged. Emma stepped in first, pressing herself against the back wall. Tom followed suit, leaning on the wall next to her. The tension in the air was palpable and Tom noticed his collar getting tighter and his palms sweating. As the doors slid closed, Tom leaned in towards Emma.
“Hold the door!” a small voice called out. Startled and flustered, Tom reached out to hit the button and straighten himself up. Emma smiled as she turned her head away. An elderly woman entered the elevator, ladened with shopping bags.
“Hit floor 6 for me, please?” she asked Tom, smiling up at him.
“Certainly, my dear.”
“Are you from England?”
Emma hid her face as she worked to contain her laughter. Tom responded with a smile.
“I am. Wimbledon, in fact.”
“Isn’t that where they play tennis?”
“It is.”
The ding of the elevator interrupted the exchange, and the lady stepped out.
“You two youngsters have a nice evening.”
“Thank you,” Emma added, giving her a little wave.
Once the doors shut door, the two of them burst into laughter. Tom swung around, leaning over Emma’s small frame. He rubbed Emma’s arm, again sending electricity straight to her core. She swallowed hard before gazing up at Tom’s blue eyes.
“Now, where were we?” Tom asked as he pushed even closer.
“You were flirting with that old lady there?” Emma cracked a joke to distract from the butterflies in her stomach.
“Oh, that was not flirting,” Tom smirked, moving his face within inches of Emma’s.
Tom swore he heard her heart beating faster with each passing second.
“It wasn’t?” she squeaked, becoming more anxious.
Emma looked to see there was a way to escape but Tom’s arm caged her against the elevator wall.
“No, flirting requires the interplay of two peoples wants and desires…”
“Desires...” Emma repeated after Tom becoming lost in his words.
“Yes. As they say, it takes two to tango.”
Emma blushed at the thought and Tom took this opportunity to close any remaining distance between them. His lips crashed against hers with a sense of want and lust. Emma’s body softened against him and reciprocated the affection.
Tom sighed against Emma’s lips and she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deeper. Tom, overcome with lust, pushed his hips into Emma. She moaned as his hardness brushed against her. Tom lost control as he slid his hand down Emma’s side, grazing over her waist, hips, and thighs before hooking his hand behind her knee and lifting it up.
The elevator interrupted their interlude by reaching Tom’s floor. Tom released Emma, and they were both flushed and panting. Emma attempted to straighten herself as the doors opened. Tom grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the corridor. Once they reached Tom’s room, he fumbled in his pockets for the key card. After what seemed like an eternity but was mere moments, Tom got the door opened and ushered Emma into the room. The door slammed behind them and Tom wasted no time.
“At last, you are mine,” Tom growled as he attacked Emma’s lips again.
His tongue was insistent and Emma moaned, granting it access. Their tongues explored each other’s mouths. With each passing moment, Emma’s arousal grew more and more. She threw her arms around Tom’s neck, holding on for dear life. Tom placed his hands on both of Emma’s thighs. He lifted her and shoved Emma’s back into the wall.
“Ahh!” she yelped.
“You are intoxicating, love,” Tom growled into Emma’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
His words spurred Emma on and she pulled on his jacket, ripping it off his shoulders. Her hands then turned to unbuttoning his shirt. Tom pulled her top off in one motion, exposing her skin to the cold air of the hotel room. Tom moaned in appreciation at Emma’s curves before devouring that sweet spot in the crook of her neck. It was as though that spot connected to her core.
“Tom?” she breathed.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me.”
Tom’s lips curved into a devious smile.
“With pleasure.”
Tom pulled Emma across the room until her back landed onto the soft sheets of the bed. She propped herself on her elbows to watch Tom undress at the end of the bed. He undid the buttons of his shirt and peeled the shirt off, dropping it on the floor. He undid his belt and fly next. Emma licked her lips in anticipation.
“Is someone enjoying the show?” Tom asked as he pulled the belt from the loops at a painstakingly slow pace.
Emma could only nod, not trusting her voice to cooperate. Tom took this as an opportunity to torture her. He lowered his pants, kicking them off behind him. Emma could see the sizable bulge in his boxer briefs. Emma gulped at the thought of him filling her to the hilt. She was gushing. Tom moved to hover over her on the bed. He moved like a jungle cat stalking his prey. He started kissing Emma on her collarbone. She arched her back and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the side. Tom turned his attention to Emma’s now heaving chest.
He took one of her nipples and sucked with fervor.
“Oh, God!” Emma groaned, and she tangled her hands in his blond curls. This only spurred on Tom as he drew his attention to the other breast, giving it the same treatment, eliciting the same reaction from Emma. She struggled to undo her jeans, when Tom grabbed her hands.
“Allow me.”
With deft hands, Tom made short work on the button and fly of Emma’s jeans. She bucked her hips up to allow Tom to pull them down, taking her underwear with him. She laid there naked as Tom drank in the sight. His eyes hooded with lust, he pressed his chest into hers as he crushed against her lips.
“Perfection,” Tom muttered as his hands raked across her body. As his hands grazed her pubic bone, Emma shifted her legs apart, granting him access to her glistening sex. Tom’s fingers slid up and down her slit, collecting juices along the way.
“So wet for me. So ready,” Tom moaned into Emma’s ear.
With no warning, Tom pushed one long digit into Emma’s pussy and she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders. Tom chuckled as her walls gripped onto his finger.
“You are so eager to please.”
He pumped his finger in and out at a languid pace, drawing out Emma’s pleasure. Soon, he added a second finger and quickened his pace. His other hand found her clit, drawing tight circles. There was a tightening in her core.
“Oh, yes!” She gasped as Tom curled his fingers inside.
“Come on darling, cum for me,” Tom urged on as he continued to fuck Emma with his fingers.
“Don’t stop!”
Tom continued to finger Emma, curling his fingers while stimulating her clit. Before long, the coil snapped and Emma orgasmed.
“Fuck. Me!” Emma screamed as waves of pleasure washed over her. Tom pulled off his underwear and lined up with her entrance, pushing in to the hilt.
Emma never felt so full in her life. Tom filled every inch of her.
“Oh God, you feel amazing,” Tom exclaimed, and he began to thrust, pushing in balls deep each time.
A second orgasm fast approached and Tom’s hip thrusts grew more and more erratic. Tom cried out as he spilled into her and moments later, she came. The two of them collapsed onto the bed and drifted off to sleep.
-
The next morning, Emma woke to find the bed empty. She rolled over and found the spot still warm. As she still detected him on the pillow, spices and woods. Emma heard the bathroom door open and Tom stepped out, wearing only a towel around his waist.
“Morning.” he said with a smile.
“Morning.” she responded, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Um… I guess we should talk.”
Emma blushed.
“Might be a good idea after last night.”
“Yeah, I don’t do that sort of thing. You know… last night… with girls… I mean ladies… I’m a nice guy, I swear.” Tom blabbered about, the last few words squeaking out.
Emma couldn’t help but giggle.
“Nervous much?” It’s fine. I never sleep with someone the first time I meet them either.”
Tom smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I would like to see you again.” Tom ran his hand up and down Emma’s arm.
There are those shivers again.
“Me too.”
“But I am leaving New York today for London.”
Emma noticed the packed bag by the door. In the heat of passion last night, she had missed it. Emma’s face dropped.
“Oh.”
“But I should be back in three weeks’ time. Can I take you out on a proper date?”
Emma nodded.
“Until then, how about some room service breakfast?” Tom stood to head over to the phone.
Emma’s stomach growled in response.
“I will take that as a yes.” Tom smiled.
He ordered breakfast for two and got dressed while Emma took a shower. She washed her hair before slipping back into the clothes from last night.
“Here.” Tom shoved a shirt in Emma’s face. “In case you don’t want to wear the same shirt again.”
Emma took the shirt and switched out. The shirt smelled of Tom.
“Thanks.”
By this time the food arrived. The two of them ate in a hurry, chatting and exchanging numbers, Tom’s car set to arrive soon. As Emma shoved the last piece into her mouth, Tom’s phone rang.
“I’ll be right down.”
Emma walked out with him. Tom leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.
“Three weeks. It’s a date.”
“It’s a date.”
It wasn’t a date. Emma got busy with her new role, and then sick and they canceled plans. Tom and she her exchanged phone calls, emails, even a few video chats. But never met in person again.
As the weeks turned to months, the texts became more scarce. Both their careers continued to prosper, Tom with a Golden Globe performance as Jonathan Pine and Emma translated a few Daytime Emmy wins into starring in a prime time drama. After 18 months, the texts stopped altogether. Emma forgot about the one-night stand.
Present Day
“Em?” a familiar voice rang out across the L.A. restaurant.
Emma looked around for the source. It couldn’t be a fan, no one called her “Em” anymore. She saw a man with unruly ginger curls wearing a tailored suit, making a beeline towards her. Her eyes widened and her heart jumped into her throat. All the memories of that night rushed back to her like a tidal wave.
“Is that who I think it is?” Corrine, Emma’s friend asked, tugging on her arm.
The man reached her table and Emma rose to her feet, gripping the table for support.
“I can’t believe it is you, Em!” he pulled her into a big bear hug. He still smelled of spices and woods.
“Tom!” Emma pulled from the embrace, looking him over. “Nice beard.”
Tom chuckled as he rubbed his hand through the whiskers. The two of them stared at one another for what seemed an eternity. Corrine cleared her throat and Emma jumped at the sound.
“So sorry! Corrine, Tom Hiddleston. Tom, Corrine Saunders, my friend and former publicist.”
“Charmed.“ Corrine cooed as she extended her hand palm down.
Tom gave a nervous chuckle before giving it an anemic shake.
“So Tom,” Corrine started in. “How in the hell do you know our little Emma over here? She’s never mentioned you before.”
Emma’s face flushed as the color drained from Tom’s. They exchanged knowing looks before Tom cleared his throat.
“Well, it is a funny story.” Tom started as he pulled on his collar.
Emma wasn’t laughing.
11 notes · View notes
rosethornewrites · 4 years
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Fic: The Rebellion of Adrien Agreste, ch. 8
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Luka Couffaine, Lila Rossi/karma, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/aneurism, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Kagami Tsurugi, Plagg & Tikki
Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Lila Rossi, Jagged Stone, Plagg, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Penny Rolling, Anarka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine, Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois, Wayhem, Nadja Chamack, Nathalie Sancoeur, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Tikki, Fang, Principal Damocles, Caline Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, original minor character, Alec Cataldi, Lila Rossi’s Mother, Sabrina Raincomprix, Roger Raincomprix, Mylène Haprèle, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste’s Bodyguard, Nino Lahiffe, Nooroo
Tags: Lila Rossi salt, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Teenage Rebellion, Swearing, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Crack Treated Seriously, Lila Rossi’s Lies Are Exposed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Luka Couffaine Needs a Hug, Paparazzi, Parentification, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Needs a Hug, Gabriel Agreste Needs an Aneurism, Uncle Jagged Stone, we’re all queer here, the spirit of punk is sometimes just being allowed to be yourself, Kagami Finds Her Groove, punk rock fashion, Savage Kagami, Marinette protection squad, Good Parent Sabine Cheng, Good Parent Tom Dupain, Protective Kagami Tsurugi, Protective Luka Couffaine, Bisexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pansexual Luka Couffaine, Sharing a Bed, Pet Names, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Instagram, Bullying, Social Media, Anxiety, Makeover, Hugs, will cure your acne, Face Punching, Bad Ass Juleka Couffaine, Rumors, Protective Juleka Couffaine, Protective Adrien Agreste, Lawyers, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Holding Hands, accountability, mental health, Jagged Stone’s well-paid pet shark, How to Make the Evening News, Sexy eyeliner for days, one fish two fish Lila is a screwed fish, How to have fun and piss Gabriel off, Fuckery, sweet litigious karma, Alya sugar, lawyer shark doo doo doo doo doo doo, Schadenfreude, Bad Ass Alya Césaire, Gaslighting, abuse denormalization, Jagged likes his lawyers like he likes his pets: toothy af, Blood in the Water, Everything you didn’t know you wanted and some things you did, Gabriel Agreste is shark bait, Denial, Consequences, Principal Damocles salt, caline bustier salt, the impotence of Gabriel Agreste, snarky Nooroo, lies and the lying liars who tell them, Lila’s brain is a narcissistic hellscape, Lila’s mind is built like an Escher piece, Alec Cataldi salt, Adrien Sugar, wholesome salt, Fu Salt, Kwami Shenanigans, Nooroo is a little shit
Summary: The Parentification Computation
Notes:  Luka’s characterization is somewhat based on a conversation with some folks  about the possibility of Luka having Atlas personality due to parentification, which is basically the impact when a child has to act as a parent, sometimes to their own parent but also to their siblings.
AO3 link
Chapters 1-2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
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Adrien had felt a bit guilty when he took advantage of the rush to return to the suite to disappear to transform—he knew they’d worry, since the Akuma was likely going to look for him, but he had to help Ladybug defeat it.
The Akuma sucked the color and joy out of whatever it touched, the power turning into clothing and accessories that resembled Luka’s. It made an odd amount of sense, if the Akuma was a fan upset by Adrien’s fake relationship. So far it had leather pants, ornate boots, a leather jacket, kohl around its eyes, black fingernails, and hair that was black with… rainbow tips?
As Chat Noir got closer, he realized he recognized the person under all that.
“Wayhem?”
The Akuma turned toward him, face contorted in a sneer. “That’s Fade-Out to you! No one else can be happy until I am! Give me your Miraculous!”
He’d figured it was a fan, but had never imagined Wayhem would be the one, that he’d harbored feelings like that for Adrien. He’d been completely blind to it. What else had he been blind to?
Chat barely dodged when Fade-Out tried to grab him, then was pulled out of danger by Ladybug’s yoyo.
“I think the Akuma is in his glove,” she said as Fade-Out tried to find a way up to them.
When Chat peered, he could see on his right hand was a black fingerless motorcycle glove; embossed on the back was Adrien’s face. It was probably the face from his life-size cardboard cut-out he’d signed for Wayhem after he’d acted as Adrien’s body-double when Gorilla was Akumatized.
“So I need to let him get close enough to touch me, make sure I hit the glove.”
Ladybug frowned. “It’s too risky. Let’s see what we get with Lucky Charm!”
A red-and-black postless pillory fell into her arms, and she grimaced at it.
“I guess we need to immobilize him?” Chat asked.
Ladybug sighed. “You know my Lucky Charms aren’t that simple, chaton.”
She glanced around, seemingly looking for an answer, then pointed at a road sign, the one to rue du Chat-qui-Pêche, the smallest street in Paris—or, rather, the narrowest.
“The pillory will just barely fit in there, and with the drainpipes…”
Chat grinned. “Shall we pillory an Akuma, m’Lady?”
It took less than a minute of cat puns to get Fade-Out chasing him, and the moment the Akuma was in the alley, Ladybug snapped the pillory around his neck. His forward motion was halted so abruptly when it caught on a drainpipe that he lost his feet and wound up with his hands splayed on the pavement. Chat was able to Cataclysm the glove quickly and with no danger.
Then it was just a matter of Ladybug purifying the Akuma, unlatching the pillory, and tossing it in the air to release the Miraculous Cure, and Wayhem was on his hands and knees in the tiny street.
Once they’d fist-bumped, Chat turned her way. “I’ll handle the young man—I’ve more time before I detransform.”
Ladybug smiled and nodded, then yoyoed away.
Wayhem was staring up at him in dawning horror. “Oh, no. I was Akumatized?”
Chat offered him a hand. “Yeah. You okay?”
Once on his feet, Wayhem leaned against the wall with a sigh. “It’s so dumb. I was just a little jealous. I didn’t— Well, there’s this guy who’s a model, Adrien Agreste?”
He nodded, figuring he was expected to.
“Well, I was a ridiculous fanboy for a while, and kinda obsessive, and then he asked for my help when he was targeted by an Akuma. We became friends. And he… well, he just announced he has a boyfriend.”
Wayhem winced, rubbing his neck, his expression embarrassed.
“I didn’t even know… that was an option.”
Chat patted his shoulder; he felt badly that Wayhem had gotten caught up in this, but it was over and done with—and Adrien wouldn’t go back and fake-date Lila even knowing this.
“Honestly, maybe it wasn’t, though. You don’t know how he met his boyfriend or the circumstances,” he finally offered.
“I know.” Wayhem sighed. “It was just a moment of disappointment, you know?”
“And Hawkass took advantage.” Chat offered him a smile. “Just try to be happy for your friend, then. There’s someone out there for you.”
That got a little smile, just as the Miraculous beeped at him.
“That’s my cue to skiddoo!”
He gave the boy a little salute and was gratified when he got the same back, then he vaulted away, back toward the hotel.
Once he found a place to detransform and give Plagg some cheese, he snuck in and back to the suite, only to find Luka in the midst of pacing, Marinette and Penny looking concerned, and Jagged looking a bit irate.
When Luka saw him, he immediately stopped, and something in the older boy’s body language eased. It struck Adrien suddenly that Luka had been worried, something he hadn’t figured would happen.
“Sorry, wound up getting stuck downstairs. Figured I’d stay put until the Ladyblog put out the all clear.”
“Same thing happened to me,” Marinette offered.
Luka dragged his fingers through his hair. “It’s fine. These things happen.”
Jagged snorted. “You’re not fine, kid. You’re a bloody mess. Practically chewed all the polish off his nails. It was like when Penny misplaces me, only worse.”
“I don’t misplace you,” she muttered. “You wander off and terrorize people with Fang.”
A glance at Luka’s nails confirmed Jagged’s words, though. Most of his black nailpolish was gone.
“Oh. Well, we can get the spa folks up again. I kind of want mine done, too,” Adrien commented.
Luka frowned, then nodded. “Sorry… I just… I’m responsible for Juleka, and you both went missing, and the Akuma attack, and…”
Marinette stood, putting a hand on his arm. “Hey. You’re not responsible for me, or for Adrien.”
“But I’m his boyfriend now.”
Adrien blinked. “Is that how it works?”
Maybe it was—sometimes in movies and TV shows that was how it worked.
“No.” Penny’s voice was almost deadly. “That’s not how it works. You’re not his caregiver.”
Luka looked uncertain, like he was ready to argue.
Jagged scowled at him. “Nope, kid. I know Anarka’s a free spirit, but you’re not responsible for the world.”
Marinette offered Luka a hesitant smile. “You’ve got an independent boyfriend, Luka.”
The smile Luka attempted back looked very feeble.
“I’m sorry I worried you, Luka,” Adrien said, scratching the back of his head anxiously. “Most of the time my father keeps me shut in my room and forgets about me. So I didn’t think to let you guys know… but I didn’t have my phone on me, either. Whoops.”
Jagged turned the scowl on Adrien. “Okay, that’s gotta be addressed, too. So not okay. Social media blitz.”
Penny gestured to the computer. “You have a picture to post, anyway. Might as well fire some shots while you’re at it.”
Marinette and Luka exchanged a dark look, and then Luka drew himself up. “Okay. Your dad’s an asshole. Let’s air some dirty laundry?”
Adrien grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
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mikauzoran · 4 years
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Love Square: Four-Fold Blessings: Chapter Three: Marichat: Nose
Four-Fold Blessings: Chapter Three: Marichat: Nose
(I just realized that I didn’t post last week’s chapter on Tumblr. ^.^;)
“Kit Kat, hand me the gumdrops, please,” Marinette requested, rubbing at her forehead with the back of her wrist to avoid getting (even more) icing on her face.
“Right away, Princess,” Chat Noir purred, pausing in the middle of cutting out a gingerbread ninja to wipe his hands on the “I Love My Cat” apron he’d gotten Marinette the previous Christmas.
He reached across the workstation and grabbed the extra container of gumdrops, bringing them over to Marinette’s half of the table, switching out the now-empty container she’d been working out of previously.
It was a chilly Sunday afternoon, and Chat Noir was helping out in the back of Tom and Sabine’s, assisting Marinette in filling an order while Tom and Sabine kept the regular shop business running.
They were making two hundred gingerbread ninjas, and they were a little more than halfway there. Chat’s main job was rolling out the dough, cutting the cookies, and getting them into the oven. Marinette was making the dough, ensuring that the cookies came out of the oven before they burned but not before they were fully baked, and decorating the ninjas.
Chat paused to watch over Marinette’s shoulder as she drew a fierce expression on the gingerbread person’s face.
“May I do one?” he tentatively asked, fully prepared to be told that his cookie decorating abilities were not of professional quality.
He wasn’t sure why that was his kneejerk thought, why the words came out in his father’s voice in his head. Marinette certainly wouldn’t say something so mean, but…
“Sure,” she cheerfully agreed, setting down the piping bag with the white frosting and moving the gingerbread man she’d been working on aside.
She grabbed an undecorated cookie, setting it down on the table in front of him and handing him the piping bag. “Just go slow and focus on applying steady, even pressure,” she coached.
He nodded, taking a deep breath and beginning to carefully squeeze out the icing, starting with the larger aspects of the design before trying out the more intricate details.
It was going pretty well until, suddenly, it wasn’t. He squeezed a little too hard, and a giant glob of frosting squirted out onto the cookie, ruining the design.
“Oops,” he sighed, cat ears drooping. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“—No worries, Chat Noir,” Marinette was quick to reassure with a forgiving smile that took away his anxiety.
She got a knife from one of the drawers and gingerly scraped off the excess frosting. “There. Now you can try again.”
He frowned uncertainly. “Are you sure? You don’t want to do it yourself? I’m not very good at this.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to get better unless you practice. Don’t worry. You won’t ruin it, and we have plenty of time, plenty of icing, plenty of cookies. It’s not a big deal if you make a mistake,” she encouraged. “You’ll get it eventually.”
The cookie did, indeed, eventually get decorated in a way that was up to standards with only two more small mishaps that were quickly fixed by a scrape of the knife.
“That looks pretty good,” Marinette chuckled, making Chat’s heart fill with pride and a sense of accomplishment.
He turned to grin affectionately at her. “Thanks, Princess. Thanks for being such a patient teacher.”
“Not at all.” She gave his shoulder a playful bump with her own. “You’re a good student.”
Their eyes caught, and Marinette’s stomach flipped as she realized how close they were standing.
Chat’s lips curled into an amused smirk. “Marinette, you’ve got a little something on your face.”
She laughed mirthlessly, mentally kicking herself because he loved someone else, and she was going to give things a try with Adrien, so there was no point in letting her heartbeat quicken over Chat Noir. “That’s hardly surprising. Where?”
“Right…” he stepped in closer, angling his face.
Marinette gasped as he leaned in, her eyes sliding closed as she tipped her head up to meet him.
“…here,” he breathed, depositing a tiny brush of a kiss to her nose.
She pulled back, searching his face in confusion, still stunned at the realization of how badly she had wanted that kiss, how much her heart ached at not getting it.
But then he pulled her into his arms, his ungloved hand stroking her jaw and her neck, and she melted into him, not quite sure what he was doing, what she was doing, but just going with it because it felt right.
He nuzzled her ear and then pulled back slightly so that they could see one another’s faces. “Marinette, I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”
She blinked. “O-Oh?”
He nodded, a nervous smile wavering on his lips. “I’d just been blinded to them by my feelings for Ladybug, but over the past few months, I’ve realized how precious you are to me. I’ve realized that you’re the one I want to be with.”
She gasped, her brain crashing and trying to reboot, trying to keep up with the words coming out of his mouth.
“I love you, Marinette, and I’d be the luckiest man in the world if you’d consent to go out with me,” he whispered.
“Oh my gosh,” she laughed, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “I…Chat Noir, I…I love you too.”
Somehow, that was the first thing that made sense in her tangled thoughts.
And then her pragmatic side kicked in and she shook her head. “But we can’t. This can’t work. Superhero duties. The safety of Paris comes first. I can’t be the reason all of Paris ends up underwater,” she tried to explain, but her thoughts were still fragmented and not coming out straight.
“You won’t be,” he stressed, running a hand up and down her back, making calming shushing noises. “Marinette, everything is going to be fine. Papillon will never find out about you because we’re not going to date as Marinette and Chat Noir.”
Her eyes went wide as she recalled the conversation she’d had with him as Ladybug on Friday night.
“I’m going to tell you who I really am,” he informed, voice soft and gentle and loving.
“No!” She squeezed her eyes closed, covering them with her hands so that she wouldn’t be tempted to peek. “Chat Noir, I can’t know. It’s too dangerous!”
“Shhh,” he cooed. “No, it’s not. Don’t worry, Marinette. I talked to Ladybug about this, and she gave us her blessing. We’ll be careful, and everything will be fine. I trust you.”
Those words hit her hard as they called up everything else he’d said to Ladybug about the wonderful girl he was in love with. Now, learning that he’d meant her, her cheeks began to burn, and her heart felt full.
She wanted to accept him and his love. She really did, but…
“Marinette, I’m not about to reveal my identity to you right now,” Chat reassured, carefully tugging her hands from her eyes. “And you don’t have to give me an answer about dating right this second either. We’ve still got, like, six dozen ninjas to bake. I just…”
He sighed, and she opened her eyes to see the earnest expression on his face.
“I just couldn’t not tell you I love you anymore.” He shrugged, smiling helplessly.
She pulled him back into a hug. “I don’t know, Chat Noir. I want to say yes, but…I don’t think now is the right time. I don’t want to tell you that we should wait until after Papillon is no longer a threat, but…”
“I get it,” he admitted. “Just think about it. If I love you and you love me, I don’t think we should wait, but…I was planning on confessing to you and revealing my identity tomorrow. I have a surprise planned, so…maybe once you know who I am, it’ll be easier to decide what you want to do. Imagining a future with a masked superhero is kind of tough. I know. I did that for years with Ladybug, but…maybe it will be easier once I’ve got a face and a last name to go along with the charming personality. Either way, I want you to know who I am, so…”
“Tomorrow?” she echoed, voice hoarse.
He nodded.
“I…don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to give you an answer tomorrow. It’s not just the pressure from superhero responsibilities, Chat Noir. It’s…” She grimaced, her cheeks heating up like her father’s antique bread oven. She wanted to look away, but she forced herself to meet his gaze as she explained, “You’re not the only person I love.”
His face went pale, jaw slackening. His nostrils flared, and he had to remind himself to keep breathing. “O-Oh?” he gulped. “There’s someone else?”
She nodded, ashamed at her greedy heart. “A friend of mine. I’ve been crazy about him for two years now, and I think he’s finally taken an interest in me. I need some time to mentally sort things out. I’m sorry. You deserve a better answer, an unequivocal yes. I need some time to make sure. I don’t want to tell you yes unless I’m one hundred percent certain.”
She reached up to cup his face, running her thumb across his cheek. “You are one of the sweetest, bravest, best people I know, and you deserve someone who’s completely committed to you. I love you, and I want good things for you, so I’m not sure yet if I’m what’s best for you. I do love you, but I love Adrien too, so…” She shook her head, a pained expression stuck to her face. “Give me some time, please.”
“Wait,” he nearly choked, some of the despair evaporating from his demeanor. “Adrien…Agreste? You love Adrien Agreste?”
She nodded, a little confused at the nervous energy in his voice.
“Okay,” he breathed, letting go of her and turning away so that she wouldn’t see the joy on his face. “Okay.” He schooled his expression back to neutral and turned to her once more. “All right. That’s fair. I appreciate you taking this seriously, Marinette.” He gave her a tentative smile.
“Of course,” she stressed, giving his forearm a light touch. “You’re one of my best friends, Chat Noir, and I care about you so, so much. I don’t want to end up hurting you by rushing into anything. I’m sorry that I can’t say yes right now, but I don’t want to jump the gun and screw things up.”
He nodded, giving her shoulder a pat before going back over to his workstation to cut more gingerbread ninjas out of the dough. “It’s okay,” he assured, unable to help the way his tail lashed back and forth around his feet in excitement. “It’ll probably be easier to decide tomorrow once I show you who I am behind the mask.”
She shook her head and went back to decorating ninjas. “Chat Noir, I already know who you are behind the mask. Knowing your name isn’t going to change who you are as a person. I already know you.”
His heart swelled at that, and he smiled so hard down at the dough he thought his face was going to crack in half. “I don’t know, Princess. It’s a really good name.”
She let out a snort of laughter, and it was clear that their easy friendship had survived part one of the love confession. “Oh, I’m sure it is, Chat Noir. I’m sure your parents did a better job than you did naming yourself. I mean, you literally called yourself ‘black cat’.”
“Hey,” he whined, putting on the biggest pout he could muster through laughter. “I was put on the spot, and there are plenty of anime characters called ‘Chat Noir’. Thirteen-year-old me thought it was cool. Sixteen-year-old me still thinks it’s cool.”
“Your face is cool,” Marinette snickered.
“Thanks. So’s yours,” he shot right back.
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afni-fics · 4 years
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Tim arrives in Paris and reunites with old friends.
(a pre-New52 DCU/Miraculous Ladybug crossover fusion)
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter Index
It was a typical morning at the Dupain-Cheng home above the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. Thirteen year old Marinette Dupain-Cheng had overslept (again) and was scrambling to get ready for school on time.
“No time for breakfast, Maman!” the petite teenager said as she was dashing down the stairs while tying her shoulder-length black hair into twin pigtails. As she snagged her lunch bag from the counter and was preparing to leave their apartment, she noticed that she was alone in the kitchen. “Maman?” she called out as her blue eyes scanned the empty room.
That was odd. Usually her mother, Sabine Cheng, waited until her daughter had left for school before going to help her father, Tom Dupain, in the bakery.
“Are you down here Maman?” Marinette called as she walked into the kitchen of the bakery, slowing to avoid causing any accidental disasters before entering the main storefront. She paused in the doorway as she noticed her parents talking to a man she’d never seen before.
The stranger appeared to be in his mid-30s and was dressed in a pair of nice looking dark slacks with a stylish leather jacket. He was of average height with slim athletic build, despite being absolutely dwarfed by the presence of Tom Dupain, Marinette’s gentle giant of a father. His skin was pale and some of his short black hair fell slightly into his face. He also wore a pair of dark sunglasses that completely masked his eyes. Overall, the stranger looked like a fairly well-off gentleman, and it appeared her parents both knew him. Her petite mother’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, though Sabine Cheng also had a warm fond smile on her face as she spoke with the man, who seemed a bit embarrassed by all the attention.
“Papa? Maman?” Marinette asked cautiously as she stepped fully into the shop.
All three adults froze, obviously startled by the girl’s appearance. “Oh Marinette!” Tom was the first to respond. “We thought you’d left for school already.”
“Almost,” she said as she stepped a bit closer, curiosity winning over caution. “I’m on my way out now. Who’s this?“
Marinette’s mother found her voice. When Sabine spoke it was with a great deal of affection as she watched the stranger out of the corner of her eyes, as if she was afraid he was going to disappear when she wasn’t looking. “This is Timothy Drake. He’s a very dear old friend of ours from the United States that we haven’t seen in… goodness… over a decade now.” The tiny woman reached out and placed a hand on the stranger’s arm. “And Tim, this is–”
The stranger slowly pulled off his sunglasses, and Marinette could see for the first time that this man had kind blue eyes. “Marinette,” he said with a small smile. Though he had a slight American accent, his French was flawless. “You probably don’t remember me. The last time I saw you, you were just a baby. God, look at how much you’ve grown.” He glanced back at Tom and Sabine and the smile he gave them seemed a bit sad at his eyes. “Really sinks in how long it’s been, seeing her all grown up.” Tim turned back at the girl. “You look so much like your mother.”
Marinette felt her cheeks grow warm at the stranger’s fond words. “Oh, I’m not all that grown up or nearly as pretty as Maman.” she said dismissively with a small smile. “I’m still really klutzy and childish sometimes and…”
“–and late for school?” Her father interjected with a knowing grin.
…and late for school!“ Marinette echoed without thinking. Then she thought about it. "OH MY GOSH! I’M LATE FOR SCHOOL!” She dashed to her parents and gave them quick kisses on their cheeks. “See you later!” She said before pausing at the door. “Oh! And nice to meet you M. Drake!” Marinette smiled brightly at him before rushing out the door as quickly as she could.
Once she was gone, the smile faded from Tim’s face and his expression became more guarded.
Before he was able to address Tom and Sabine again, the petite woman raised her hand to pause him. Then she moved to the front door of the bakery and flipped the sign to “Closed” and set a time for the “Back at…" clock. Then she beckoned the two men to follow her upstairs.
“There,” Sabine said once the door was closed behind the three of them and she motioned towards the living room. “That’s better.” She looked at Tim with tender concern in her expression. “Sorry about that. I thought she’d already left for school. Are you alright?”
Tim nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine,“ he said as he took a seat on the sofa.
Sabine gave Tim a skeptical look, but didn’t press him further as she day inn a nearby chair.
Her husband went to the kitchen and began pouring out several mugs of coffee. “I almost didn’t believe my eyes this morning when you came into the bakery.” Tom said as he set the mugs on a tray. “Last time we saw you, it felt like we were never going to see you again.” Tom had a sad expression on his face as he said this before offering the first of the mugs to his guest.
Tim sighed as he took a mug and stared into it. “I never thought I’d ever set foot in Paris again either,” he admitted.
“Is it because of Le Papillon?” Sabine asked after a small sip of her coffee. “Is he why you’re here?”
Tim nodded. “At first I was just going to slip into Paris undercover, figure out who this terrorist was, and deliver all the information to the authorities before slipping out again back to Gotham. No one was supposed to know I was here.”
“What changed?” Tom asked?
“The League got involved,” Tim answered. “And Bruce asked me to investigate personally. Now I’m on their radar.”
At the mention of the League and Bruce, both Tom and Sabine frowned. Tom looked mostly concerned while Sabine looked irritated. For a moment it looked like she wanted to say something, but instead chose to focus on drinking her coffee, swallowing her words along with the dark bitter liquid.
“You should have said no.” Sabine finally muttered under her breath. Then she shook her head. “No. They should’ve never asked you in the first place.” She looked at Tim with an expression that warred between frustration and worry. “Not after what they did.”
“If I hadn’t accepted, then they would’ve sent a team of my brothers and sisters from Gotham, and we would’ve ended up tripping over each other.” Tim set down his empty mug. “Or worse, Bruce might’ve decided to come himself to investigate.”
“So what brought you to the bakery?” Tom asked. “You could’ve still investigated for the League and we wouldn’t have even known you were here in Paris.“
“The League has evidence that Le Papillon may be directly targeting the children at College Francoise Dupont.”
Tom and Sabine gasped in alarm. “Is Marinette in danger?” Sabine asked immediately.
“I’m not sure.” Tim admitted with a frown. “We aren’t certain how Le Papillon is choosing his victims though there are some solid theories. However, the majority of his targets recently are either students from the school or adults with direct ties to them. Once I leave here I’m going to begin my investigation. I’ve got a few leads to chase down. Not sure how long this is going to take though.”
“Are you going to be undercover?” Tom asked.
“I’m actually going undercover as myself.”
Tom regarded him with a quizzical look. “How does that work?”
Tim smiled a little. “You’ll see in a day or two.” He revealed. “It’ll be fairly obvious.”
Then Tim reached into an interior pocket of his leather jacket. He pulled out a small package. “I really need to head out to the school myself to get things started. I’ve got an appointment with Principal Damocles today. However, I wanted to give you both this before I left.”
Sabine took the package from Tim and opened it. Inside was a pair of cell phones in two different styles and colors. One was silver. The other was red.
“The silver phone is a direct secured line to me,” Tim explained. “If Le Papillon puts either of you or Marinette in danger when I’m not nearby, call or text me. I’ll come immediately. I’m staying at Le Grande Paris for the week at least, and if it takes longer to hunt down Le Papillon I’ll be setting up in an apartment not too far from here. I don’t plan on leaving the immediate area until this investigation is complete. So I’ll be here if any of you need me.”
Tom nodded. Then Sabine picked up the red phone. “What about this one?”
Tim’s expression became more serious. “That is an emergency line straight to Oracle, my point of contact to the League. If something happens to me… if I get badly hurt or akumatized… I need you to send a message to Oracle. I need you two to let her know that ‘Mockingbird’ has been compromised.”
At that, both Sabine and Tom stared at Tim with open concern. “Then, I pray we never have to use this.” Tom said quietly.
“You and me both,” Tim agreed as he prepared to leave.
“It’s not fair.” Sabine’s sad voice caused Tim to pause at the door. “We’ve missed you so much, and we’ve wished for so long that you would come back to Paris one day, back into our lives, but not like this.”
Tim kept his gaze focused on the door, his brows furrowed before closing his eyes and bowing his head. “I know. But you both know why I couldn’t.“
"You know, you don’t have to pretend to be a stranger while you’re in Paris now, Tim.” Tom said hopefully. “Sure the reason you’re here is not ideal, and while you never intended to return you are here now.” He drew his wife into a sideways one-armed hug and smiled reassuringly at Tim. “Marinette knows you’re our friend, and if you’re here for awhile, it would be odd or even suspicious for you to not visit from time to time.”
Tim sighed. When he turned to the couple it was clear from his initial expression he intended to give a reluctant denial. “I can’t–” But the words got stuck in his throat as he looked at both Tom and Sabine, with their dual hopeful expressions. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I'll… think about it,” he finally relented.  
Sabine smiled and gave Tim a hug while Tom smiled and nodded. Then the pair of them saw him out of the bakery as he started out towards College Francoise Dupont.
—–
Meanwhile, a small purple and black butterfly was flitting towards that exact same school, pulsing with dark energies.
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thewritewolf · 4 years
Text
Shipping Wars Chapter 2 - Ladrien
The shipping war continues, with an upset to both of their ships!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (Final)
Enjoy!
Read on Ao3
Tom and Sabine were sitting in the living room, watching television after a long day of work. As a result they were in a prime position to see the start of an akuma battle. Normally they didn’t watch them because everything generally got reset anyway and because they were so frequent that going out of their way to watch them would cut into their daily lives. The only difference now is that Tom insisted they watch their “future son-in-law” in action.
Since Sabine didn’t want to just change the channel out of spite, they continued to watch the unfolding fight. It slowly dawned on Sabine that the battleground was a photoshoot, and not just any photoshoot but an Agreste brand one. Horror dawned on her when their actual future son-in-law appeared briefly on screen, being chased by the akuma of the day. From what little she could tell, it was some sort of deranged fan.
It looked like Adrien was cornered. The akuma raised its arm to strike…
...only for it to hit air as Adrien was whisked away by Ladybug.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Sabine said, clutching at her chest. “That was far too close.”
“Well, would you look at that…” There was a hint of wonder to Tom’s voice that drew her back to the screen.
Sure enough, Ladybug was still carrying Adrien, but both of them had faces as red as Ladybug’s suit. They could barely meet each other’s eyes, stealing glances at each other when one wasn’t looking. Sabine groaned and buried her face in her hands. Watching Marinette this last year had made her very aware of those looks. Tender. Soft. Blushing. Very much in love. And it seemed to be mutual.
“You know…” Tom said, ignoring the glare Sabine was sending him from between her fingers. “Those two would make a great match for each other. After all, they’re both the golden children of Paris - they understand fame and its pressures. It’s something they can bond over. ”
Sabine scoffed. “Marinette would make a great superhero too. I bet she’d be even better than Ladybug if she was given a chance.”
“I have no doubt about it. Our daughter is the most resourceful, brave girl I know. Paris would be lucky to have her protecting them.” Tom patted Sabine gently on the back. “But hey, don’t worry! I’m sure once Chat Noir sees this, he’ll back off from Ladybug like a true gentleman. And we know how he feels about Marinette, right?”
“Tom,” she said patiently. Sometimes he got so caught up in the moment he forgot about the larger picture. “Even if she still likes Chat - and I don’t know about that since she hasn’t said a word about him since that brunch - we do know that she has a crush on Adrien. Don’t you think this might leave her feeling a little broken hearted? That’s two boys that she’s lost to Ladybug. And on top of that, no one wants to be thought of as the back up option.”
Immediately Tom’s face crumpled into worry. “Oh dear… I’d better make her a platter of cookies in case she needs them.”
“Cookies?”
“Of course. Haven’t you noticed that she’s been going through a lot of them recently? She’s developed one heck of a sweet tooth.” He sighed. “She’ll need some comfort food after this, I’ll bet.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
------------
They watched the long, grueling akuma battle until it’s very end and waited. About twenty minutes later, Marinette finally came downstairs. After exchanging concerned looked, the two of them practically jumped up and rushed to meet her.
“Sweetie, have you… seen the news recently?” Sabine asked tentatively.
“Hm…?” Marinette looked toward her blankly, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Oh, um the akuma fight? Yeah it seemed like a rough one.”
Sabine waited for the other shoe to drop, but the poor girl just seemed so… drained, as if she had just been doing something that had sapped her energy. Crying, maybe? She couldn’t know for sure, since they couldn’t hear a thing from Marinette’s room. Her eyes were a little unfocused, like her head was somewhere else entirely. Replaying the events all over again? The poor girl was going to drive herself crazy doing that.
“Here, honeybun, we made you some treats,” Tom said as he handed the platter of cookies over to her. “Take all the time you need, and remember we’re always here to talk if you need it.”
That finally seemed to get through to Marinette and she gave them a curious look as she glanced between the plate in her hands up to them.
Eventually, she managed to say, “Um… thanks? I’ll, uh, go back upstairs then if it’s all the same to you.”
“Of course, whatever you want, dear.” Sabine cupped her daughter’s face, pouring as much of her sympathy into one look as she could before letting go.
“She’s a trooper,” Tom said once the trapdoor to Marinette’s room closed. “Heart shattered from watching Ladybug get cozy with Adrien and she puts on such a brave face…”
Sabine put her hand over Tom’s. “That’s our girl. Always putting other people’s happiness over her own.”
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