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wienerbarnes · 3 years

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Witch Bitch

Pairing: Bucky x Witch!Reader

Word Count: 3,943

Warnings: witch stuff, burning at the stake 😳

A/N: this is heavily inspired by american horror story: coven bc i recently watched and ive been binging all of it lately but its not necessary to know anything about ahs lol i kinda just used their fancy magical terminology and concepts bc they were cool🤪

MAIN MASTERLIST

The best time of the day was breakfast. It was the time when Bucky, Sam, and Sharon were most often together. Sometimes training overlapped and they missed lunch. Sometimes missions ran long or friends were in town and they missed dinner. But the morning? They were all early birds, all awake by seven. They took that shared characteristic and shared breakfast together whenever they could. Bucky usually took care of the coffee, Sam usually took care of the eggs and bacon, and Sharon usually took care of the bagels, toasting them to perfection before slathering on a layer of cream cheese.

It was a moment of peace in their day. Quiet before the noise of the gym or the conference room or the jets or the private trainings or the interviews with prospective agents or anything else they do on a daily basis. It was a time for three friends to just sit and eat and enjoy each other's company as though they are just that: three friends. Not super soldiers or captains or special agents. Just people being normal. Normal doesn’t last long, though. It never does for them.

Bucky’s on dish washing duty this morning while Sam and Sharon chat idly behind him, waiting for him to finish so they can all leave together. A soft voice interrupts them, though, making the three of them stop what they’re doing because no one has access to this floor except for the people that live here - meaning them three.

“Who’s in charge here?” You ask.

“Who the hell are you?! How did you get up here?!” Sharon asks, ignoring your question.

You were in a long, flowy black skirt, slit cut in the left side exposing your leg, and a long-sleeve black shirt, tucked beneath the waistband. Think black boots cover your feet and a black hat sits on your head to complete your look. Bucky almost doesn’t notice the folded black umbrella underneath your arm as his eyes trail down the multiple chains and necklaces around your neck, falling between your breasts.

“I’ve been trying to find someone to help me but the people in this building are not very helpful. I figured I’d find who’s in charge myself, something that you all don’t seem to want to help me with, either.” You explain.

“The only way to even enter this building is through strict appointment and background checks, and no one’s even allowed past the nineteenth floor.” Sam explains.

“Why are you entertaining this? I’m getting her out of here.” Sharon says, moving to walk towards you to take you out of the building herself.

As she nears closer and closer, you wave your hand lazily, without taking your eyes off Bucky, the only one who hasn’t said anything this whole time, and Sharon collapses on the floor soundlessly.

“Jesus!”

“What did you do!”

Both Bucky and Sam panic as they rush to Sharon’s body on the floor. They frantically run their hands over her body, looking for the point of injury that made her collapse the way she did, but they find nothing. No holes, no blood; she didn’t even make a sound.

“She’s not breathing and she doesn’t have a pulse, what the fuck did you do to her?!” Sam yells at you.

You roll your eyes, “Okay, you got me. I don’t need help finding who’s in charge, I already know it’s you. I still do need your help, though.”

You’re ignored as the two men hover over their friend, unsure of what to do or what even happened to her.

“Oh, alright, move.” You order them, stepping over Sharon’s body.

You stand before her, lifting your hands to hover over her body before closing your eyes and letting out a deep and long exhale. Bucky and Sam watch as it takes only about seven seconds for their friend to suddenly gasp for air, jumping back to life. The boys crowd her once more, checking her eyes, her pulse, everything to convince themselves that she’s actually alive like that, and if she was even dead in the first place.

Sam finally looks back up at you from the ground, as though he just remembered that you’re there, “What are you?”

You smirk in response, ready to finally get what you came here for.

…

“So, you’re a witch?” Sam asks, the four of them now occupying a private conference room for some privacy.

“A witch who killed me.” Sharon adds.

“And a witch that brought you right back.” You reply, leaning back on your chair, leg crossed over your knee, slit exposing your thigh. Bucky’s eye twitch to look at your bare skin for a second before returning to meet your eyes.

“So… what do you do?” Bucky asks.

You smile at his innocent curiosity, “All witches don’t have one universal power. Some are clairvoyant, some do voodoo, some dabble in pyrokinesis, divination, transmutation, descendum,” You glance over to Sharon, who’s still pouting at you, “Resurrection.”

“And can you do all of those?” Bucky asks.

“Almost all of them, but I’m not here to talk about me.”

“Why are you here?” Sharon asks.

“You guys hunt the Nazi’s, right?” You ask, aiming your question towards Sam, knowing he’s the Captain in charge.

“Hydra, yes.” He confirms.

“Well, your Nazi’s somehow got a hold of my magic. And they are playing with very dangerous fire,” You begin.

Bucky interrupts, “We’re all for taking down Hydra, but, don’t you think you’re a little more… powerful than us?” He asks.

“Bucky!” Sharon slaps his arm, as though she’s shocked that he would ever admit such a thing.

“I am. But I’m not that powerful, either. Not anymore, at least. A group of those Hydra invaded the coven my sisters and I were at. I was the only one that escaped.” You tell them.

“Did Hydra take them?” Sam asks.

“No, they killed them.” You respond, growing irritated as the subject grows touchier and touchier.

“Can’t you just bring them back like you did me?” Sharon inquires.

“No! I can’t. Like I said, I’m not that powerful anymore. Maybe I’d be able to bring back a house full of dead girls when it was me and twelve others but it’s just me now. I wouldn’t come all the way over here if I had other options.”

Silence grows over the group as they process what you’ve gone through. Surviving through the massacre of your fellow witches and not being powerful enough to find the people that did it on your own. You’re vulnerable.

“So what can we do?” Sam asks, ready to join forces with you.

“Help me locate the men who did this so I can handle the magic part.” You tell him.

“What magic do they have?”

“Although witches control most of the magic, sometimes it can be taken on in… physical forms. Specifically blood. The blood they retrieved was from a witch that was skilled in Vitali Vitalis.”

“The alive within the living.” Bucky translates.

“There are two worlds: the living and the dead,” You begin to explain, “Vitali Vitalis keeps the balance between these two things and it’s one of the most difficult powers for a witch to master. Oftentimes it’s used to give parts of your own life, health, and energy to someone who needs it. But it can also allow you to take life from someone and give it to yourself.”

“Like immortality?” Sam questions.

“Not quite. Any witch can be killed with a knife or bullet. This kind of magic keeps you from dying of age. I’ve only ever known one witch who mastered it.”

“What happened to her?”

“She used it for evil, like this. Took the souls of hundreds in order to allow herself to live for almost three centuries. Until she was killed, of course.” You finish, a small smile on your lips knowing that she got what she deserved.

“What, you burn her at the stake?” Sharon jokes.

“Yes, actually. We did.” You tell her matter-of-factly, becoming more and more irritated at the fact that she doesn’t seem to take this is as seriously as you are.

Bucky interrupts, sensing the rising tension between the two girls, “So when we find these guys, you’re going to burn them at the stake, too?” He asks.

“Yes,” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “The consequence of using magic like this for evil is death by fire. I hope you all don’t think the rules will change on account of these men being Nazi’s?”

“Well, we just have a different way of doing things -” Sam begin to defend

“Yes, I’m aware. The countless destruction caused by you and other militaries, the millions of innocent lives lost yearly, not only in the constant war and irresponsible handling of your nuclear and alien weaponry, but by incorrect prosecution. Not to mention the billions of dollars spent on your ridiculous prison systems that don’t work when actual bad people escape and the death penalty practices in certain states. I just figured my way was easier. And cheaper.” You reply.

Silence crowds over the four of them once more as they think over all their options.

“I’m in.” Bucky speaks first.

“Me, too. Even if I don’t like you.” Sharon follows.

“Feeling’s mutual, dear.” You smile at her.

The three of them look to Sam, waiting for his commitment as well.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Plans were made, theories of location were thought of, and plans to execute the mission were put into place, all of which included you. A temporary room was given to you when the information of your lack of a place to stay was brought to light. Only for the duration of this mission, is what Sam told you, but you can spot the amount of love and light in his heart from miles away.

It was later that night, and you’ve since cleansed the room, going as far as to place a protective spell on the entire floor. You’ve lost too much already, and you’re not about to risk anything.

A knock at the door sounds and the visitor you’d been expecting has finally arrived. You walk towards the door, still in your clothes from earlier but now you’ve removed your shoes, and open the door to reveal Bucky.

“I was waiting for you.” You tell him.

“How’d you know I’d come?” He asks, stepping through the door when you step aside, silently gesturing to him to enter.

“I can hear your thoughts. You've been debating whether or not to come see me for the past thirty minutes. Your mind is very loud.”

“Tell me about it.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about the countless nightmares, voices, and all the other reminders of just how loud his mind was.

“You can ask all your questions, you know. I won’t take any offence. You’re just curious.” You tell him, settling on your bed, hoping he’ll join you and stop hovering near the door.

Luckily he takes the hint and takes a seat across from you.

“I’ve never met a witch before. A real one, I mean. Like, someone born a witch. Like Salem witches -”

“I understand.” You chuckle lightly.

“You don’t seem… afraid of me. Or, hesitant, rather.” You tell him, thinking about how he’s received your presence here compared to his colleagues.

“I was wary when you killed my friend, but… you just need some help, is all. I’m sorry, by the way, I’m not sure if I said it before, but, I’m sorry for what happened to your friends.” He tells you.

He’s very polite. But you supposed that’s not abnormal considering he got his manners from the 1920’s. You like it, though. You give him an appreciative smile before giving him the okay to ask you whatever he wanted.

“So you said that witches can master multiple powers but have one specialty; is yours resurrection?”

“Yes; it was the first power I ever exhibited when I was a teenager. I was about fourteen or fifteen. My next mastered skill is descendum and then clairvoyance, where I was in my twenties, or so.” You tell him as he looks at you with pure fascination in his eyes.

“What is - what is descendum?”

You pause, “The power to descend your soul down into the afterlife - to hell. And return alive.”

His eyes widened, not even knowing that was something someone can do; not even knowing that hell existed in the first place, “So, you’ve been to hell?”

“Yes. I’ve also been able to retrieve people from hell, their soul. A variation of my power of resurrection, I suppose.” You explain, not being too fond of that power; descending to hell.

Bucky sits in silence for a few minutes, and you let him. You can hear the question lingering around in his head; what he’s thinking. But you let him build up his own courage to ask it. You know he’s only scared of the answer; the answer you know he’s not going to like.

“What is hell like?” He whispers.

“It doesn’t matter what my hell is like. Everyone has their own personal hell they experience when they die.” You tell him.

Confusion clouds his features as he registers your answer.

“Is there… Is there no heaven?”

You smirk, “It’s nice that you’ve remained religious after all this time.”

“Yes, there's heaven. But only for the purest and most innocent of souls. And rarely do people escape life without sin. Everyone has evil in them.” You tell him, knowing it’s a harsh truth that no one wants to hear.

The people Bucky’s killed, the crime he’s committed, the families he’s hurt; it all passes through his mind. Everyone has evil in them.

“What was your hell like?”

“I’m not telling you that.” You tell him quickly.

Bucky ponders what his own hell will be like, after seeing the way you’re clearly shaken up about your own. The fall from the train. The man in a lab coat sawing off the rest of his arm. The needles poking through his skin in the middle of some facility. The chair.

He doesn’t realize that he’s looked away from you until he snaps his thoughts back to the present and sees he’s looking down into his lap. He glances up to see your face, your soft features and kind eyes staring at him. He glances from your eyes to your lips and back up again before clearing his throat, not realizing how close he got to you during his time here sitting on your bed.

“You know, I, uh, I should go. Thank you for, uh, answering my questions, but we head out pretty - pretty early tomorrow, so,” He trails off, standing and patting down his shirt to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in a nervous habit.

He makes his way towards the door and his hand touches the knob when he hears your voice, “Hey, Bucky?” He turns slightly to face you again, a hum to indicate for you to continue.

“Thank you for coming to see me. And thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me. You’re a very good person.” You tell him sincerely.

He gives you a nod of you’re welcome before exiting.

He’s not sure if you told him that because you truly mean it, or if it’s because of the state of anxiety and existential crises you’ve put him in now that he’s going to be thinking about his personal hell, but he appreciates it, nonetheless.

He thinks you’re a pretty good person, yourself.

…

The mission goes off without a hitch. The combined skill of the Avengers’ stealth, spyware, and experience along with your magic and witchery makes for an easy capture of the men who killed your witch sisters and stole your magic.

It’s not long before the facility they were at was shut down and cleared out, arresting any officers and rescuing any prisoners or hostages, and the five men specifically responsible for the destruction of your coven are in separate custody. What’s left of the blood is returned to you, as well.

That’s where the group of you stand now, a decision to be made about the criminals you’ve captured. To be put in the maximum security prison floating in the ocean, or to be put to death by fire.

“I don’t believe in being the executioner of people.” Sam tries to convince.

You can’t help but let a laugh escape you, “Do you know who you work for?! Do you know who you are?!” You remind him.

“Those guys can’t escape the Raft.” He tries, referring to prison in the middle of the ocean you’ve heard about.

“You did.” You respond, knowing about when Steve Rogers took him out of that prison, along with other superheros.

You see Bucky and Sharon look between the two of you, torn between how these Hydra criminals should receive their fate. Staring into the hot depths of flames or rotting alone in a cell? Both seem to be too merciful, in Bucky’s opinion.

“This isn’t just running the facility or experiments, Sam. This is different. They were using dark magic to commit crimes. Maybe they should face the consequences of a dark-magic-punishment.” Sharon offers.

You don’t have time to be shocked at Sharon agreeing with you and picking your side before Bucky agrees and Sam is outnumbered. He stares at you and gives a single nod, allowing you to do this your way.

You smile, a silent thank you for giving you the closure and opportunity to serve justice to those who did you harm. “Off to Massachusetts, then.” You tell them, and Sam takes his seat in the pilot's chair, Bucky accompanying him in the front of the jet.

You take a seat, making yourself comfortable for the flight to Salem and you feel a body take the seat next to you. You glance up to see Sharon looking at you, but you notice she has something in her hand, offering it to you.

You look down to see a small plastic bag of fruit gummies. But not just any fruit gummies, you realize. Halloween themed fruit gummies. The pictures on the outside show the various options inside: witch’s hat, a broom stick, a melting pot, a vial, and a magic wand. Hilarious.

You take the gummies, though, accepting her attempt at a truce.

It’s not long before you and your temporary teammates find themselves standing before a large, empty field, multiple wooden stakes standing about fifteen feet tall scattered about with plenty of space in between.

You lead the walk to a group of them standing tall in line, so the men can be burned at the same time, as opposed to one by one. A group of large, burly agents lug the Hydra operatives along, behind you and the rest of the team.

Bucky hangs around your left, as to not be in the way of the black umbrella held in your right hand, and Sam and Sharon trail behind you. You can sense their uneasiness and tune out their worried thoughts. Everyone’s first burning is always an experience; they’ll get over it.

Bucky doesn’t seem worried, though. In fact, you can’t hear his thoughts this time around. But he still stands tall and straight, walking with confidence, so you make a safe assumption that he’s okay.

None of the men’s cuffs or shackles are removed, but thick rope is tied on top of it, around the wrist and looped around the waist, tying them to the stake. The cuffs are special grade - high tech Avengers vibranium - and they can be retrieved later once the fire burns out.

“Any last words?” You ask, more for tradition than whether or not you actually care.

They look scared, obviously not expecting their fate to look anything like this. You remember seeing Bucky tackle one of them in the facility, prying his mouth open to rip out a tooth, or what looked like a tooth, like a dog caught eating something it wasn’t supposed to. A cyanide pill.

Silence comes from them, except for one of them, “Hail Hydra!” He yells, as if that cowardly and pathetic phrase would change anything.

With a raise of your hand, seemingly with no effort, you wave it and the stakes all begin to rise up in flames. There’s nothing to spark, no twigs, no gasoline, nothing, and Bucky watches as the flames rise, growing stronger as they engulf the five men. They begin to scream, and Bucky looks over at you, as if to confirm you didn’t bring gasoline or something with you, and he sees a smile slowly grow on your lips.

They haven’t stopped screaming; they’re still alive when you turn and begin to walk back the way everyone came. Bucky follows, and eventually Sam and Sharon do, too, the other agents staying behind until the end to retrieve the cuffs and shackles that will survive the fire.

“So, now what?” Sharon asks, the air quieter as the screams have slowly stopped in the distance.

I can’t imagine what kind of paperwork follows this, “Back to the tower.” Sam responds.

“The coven’s only a short walk from here.” You say, not needing to elaborate much more. The men have been caught and brought to justice, but you still have a broken, battered, and beaten down coven to fix.

A friend of yours was meant to go by and retrieve the… bodies. Which you’re grateful for. But magic won’t help you fix the walls, the floors, mop the blood, or find other witches in need of an escape and a place to improve and master their powers. You have a lot of work to do.

As the view of the jet gets closer, you prepare to bid your goodbyes to the Avengers, your thank you’s as well. Regardless of your attitude towards them before, you couldn’t have done this without them.

A metal hand engulfs yours, pulling you back a bit as Sam and Sharon continue on.

“Do you need any help?” Bucky’s warm and gentle voice floods your ears, hand still in yours.

“You guys have been more than enough help, now, really.” You try to tell him, but he has none of it.

“You may be tough, but you can’t fix up that house by yourself,” He tells you, “I can be pretty handy, fixed up a few things back in my day.” A soft smile grows on his face.

You glance over his shoulder as Sam and Sharon wait by the entrance of the jet, “Don’t you have to go back?”

“They won’t miss me.” He tells you, not even looking back to confirm with his teammates, hand dropping to run it through his hair.

You giggle at him, before giving him a shy nod in answer to his offer to help you fix up your big house.

“I’m going to hang out here for a few days.” He yells over his shoulder.

“We figured.” Sam calls out, and Sharon throws you a wave as they board the jet, the opening close after them.

“Lead the way?” Bucky offers you, taking your hand once more, interlocking the fingers this time.

And so the two of you are off, one of your hands still clutching the umbrella, holding it above your head, and the other hand interlaced with the one of a handsome and kind super soldier. This wasn’t the way Bucky expected the last two days to transpire, but he’s glad they led to holding the hand of a very pretty witch.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x witch!reader #marvel #bucky oneshot #love me some magic #also if anyone watches ahs... hmu i love it #ive watched all of them except cult and im currently rewatching freak show rn

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hearteyesdameron · 3 years

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Follow - General Hux x OFC Reader

Words: 5.6k Ao3

Commission for the lovely @mrs-ghuleh! Hope you like it!

Female OFC/reader. Working on the starship Finalizer, Ensign Eliora Nott finds herself the object of Hux’s affection. Soon, his cat and mouse game threatens to expose their affections, and steps are taken to diffuse the tension.

NSFW Below Cut. Dom Hux, Sub reader.

The galaxy of stars before you is breathtaking. Those around you had spent their entire lives, some life spans tripling your own, staring out at them under the rule of the Order, and the spell of the endless blackness before them had worn off; dulled even. You’re still optimistic. Enchanted by them and all they have to offer, as well as enthusiastic about your position within the Order. You have your whole life to raise through the ranks, and this isn’t a bad place to do it. Your entire family before you had served in the Galactic Empire back before the days of the Skywalkers, and you would follow in their footsteps as everyone with your name had.

The relaxing sound of patrol fighters just outside and mouse droids transporting data to storage have become your daily ambience, if Kylo Ren isn’t present to add haphazard lightsaber strikes to it. Thoughtfully, you turn back to your post at the comms on the bridge.

“Was it like this back on Devaron?”

The horned, red-skinned co-worker sitting to your right turns away from the control panel to look at you. “What? The people, or the workplace politics?”

“Both,” you smile. The Devaronian takes a glance around behind him, before turning back to his position of duty.

“The officers here are nothing like my people. The environment here on the Finalizer is particularly dramatic, compared to the starships I skipped from prior to joining the First Order.”

“Ren?”

“Ren.” You continue to smirk as the horned officer goes on. “I’ve been told that just the other day, he was dissatisfied to say the least with the performance of the head cook on this ship. Half of the kitchen was destroyed, and I imagine that was catching him on a good day. Palp wafers for breakfast lunch and dinner it is, I guess.”

“That’s nothing compared to what I heard,” you whisper back. “Just the other day, Ren called the General to tell him just what he thought about how he runs things. Do you know what he said?” Your colleague’s eyes widen as he senses something, and turns back to his work as your own eyes slide shut.

“What he said is none of your business,” a sharp voice snaps. “Rather disappointing that you would while away your time on this bridge discussing matters not privy to you—ensign.”

“The comms were quiet, General,” you attempt to explain, gaze downcast. Hux’s resulting sneer is nothing short of terrifying.

“Is that so?” he spits. “Then why is it Lieutenant Mitaka has reported an incoming transmission from our liaison on Dromund Kaas about an escaped rebel prisoner within their camp?”

You glance over to Mitaka. He’s always been up Hux’s ass, desperate to snitch on anyone for the approval of the higher ups. You sigh. You can’t really blame him, with the kind of punishments they dole out around here. “It appears I missed that. I’m sor—”

“Would you fail to send out a distress signal were it necessary in favour of discussing the state of my uniform with your fellow officer, perhaps? Neglect your duties to gossip about the way I give orders, or perhaps the way I speak?”

“Certainly not,” you reply quietly. He scoffs.

“You’re lucky my forgiveness isn’t lacking when it comes to you.” You exhale in relief, but feel yourself tense again when the redheaded General beckons. “To my office.”

Your heartbeat picks up as you squirm in your seat. “Why?”

He glares down at you. “More backtalk?” By now, the entire bridge has gone silent, trying and failing to pretend not to listen to the standoff. Your cheeks burn under the scrutiny, especially under the intensity of Hux’s gaze.

“No, General.”

“Good. Follow, before I have the stormtroopers escort you.” You follow Hux with your head bowed, down the hallways. He walks with the purpose of a spiteful leader, his boots clapping loudly against the pristine floor, and the only sound he makes is a hiss when he kicks a small black droid out of his path. He’s intimidating, always has been, but it doesn’t stop that small twinge inside of you.

By the time you sit down at his desk opposite him, the flush in your cheeks is not from your public embarrassment on the job anymore... instead, it’s from being in Hux’s quarters alone with him.

“Ensign Nott.” Hux takes his time sliding his gloves off, lifting his chin and staring down his nose at you. Unfortunately you’re unable to make the appropriate eye contact when listening to your superior—you’re preoccupied by the exposed skin of his hands, distracted wondering why he removed the gloves in the first place. “Eliora.” You startle, looking up at him finally. He narrows those icy blue eyes. “When one is dismissed from the First Order, they are not given the luxury of a formal chat such as this one.”

“Please, General—”

“—They either find themselves simply and suddenly out of work, on a pod to the nearest sith-controlled planet, or dead.”

You shift nervously. “Are you letting me go?”

“Are you unhappy with your work?”

“No. No, of course not.”

“Good. Because the First Order is not in the business of caring.” He sits back in his chair, his face softening only by a fraction. “If I am not mistaken, you graduated top of your class in the academy.”

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes narrow even further at the title, and he goes on. “Despite this, there are many behind you fresh out of the academy who would readily snatch up your position given the chance. Is this what you want?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I’ve made it clear how devoted I am to our cause.” Hux nods, settling forward once more in his seat.

“Very good. I am inclined to give you another chance.” He watches you sit before him, nervous and squirming. A small, mean smile begins to grow on his lips. He’s instilled the fear of the maker into you, and he appears to get off on it. “If you continue to shirk your duties and speak so rudely of me, the Supreme Leader will mistake me for a fool if I don’t terminate you. To ensure this doesn’t happen, you will shadow me tomorrow.” He flicks his wrist. “I will teach you what it means to be an Imperial officer, and how important duty is.” He sneers. “We’ll just pretend, you and I, that I have the time to do such a thing.”

You swallow, your throat dry. “I’ll be following you around tomorrow?”

“Is there a problem, Miss Nott?” He sees the way your cheeks flush pink, his smirk growing even wider. “Did you have some other form of redemption in mind?”

“That’ll be fine,” you nod. “Just fine.”

“Good. The start of tomorrow begins in this office. If you are late, you will be on the next pod to Coruscant. I understand they are in perpetual need of cantina workers there.” A flash of anger shoots through you at the implication.

“I’m not getting on any pod, or working for any rebel scum in a bar. I’ll see you tomorrow, General.” Hux flicks his wrist once more.

“Dismissed, then.” He watches you go, taking off his hat and pattering his fingers against it. Toying with you has been fruitful since he began, but you’re starting to strike back. Is it worth pursuing? He removes your file chip from beneath his desk, inserting it into the small black droid in his office and watching your details project.

Yes, he decides, Eliora is worth the pursuit.

When you get to Hux’s office early the next morning, he’s already inside, dressed and ready for duty.

“When you are on time, you’re late. When you’re early, you’re on time. Thankfully, all our pods are under maintenance today. Follow.” You walk quickly after him as he leads you down the hall. “We begin with patrol. Ensure that everyone is performing their best even at the start of their day, before handing that task off to those who have been hired to make my life easier.” He sniffs. “Not that they do.” He sharply directs his gaze to his left. “Lieutenant Kuna!”

“Yes, General?” The woman turns immediately from her station. Although she is much taller than Hux, you notice that he still manages to talk down to her.

“You are needed in the hangar.”

“Yes, General.” She keeps her voice monotone and her eyes straight forward as she abandons her post immediately and walks the other way.

“Notice her?” He clucks his tongue. “She doesn’t ask questions.” His eyes spend too long lingering on you. Are you mistaking his usual intensity for a different sort of interest? You can’t stop the words as they come out, taking the chance to find out.

“Was my questioning so offensive yesterday when I asked why you were interrogating me?”

“Silly girl. If you want diplomacy, join the rebellion.” He takes a step closer. “Here, we put an end to those who threaten disorder.”

“With all due respect, I know what we do.”

“Then why do you stick out like a sore thumb under my command?” For the first time today, Hux looks genuinely frustrated.

“Maybe it’s because you notice me more than you do others.”

His jaw clenches, and you know you’ve hit a sore spot. He simply leans in until you can feel his breath on your face. It’s strangely cool. “Be that as it may... you are an ensign. Here, you obey.” You fully intend to respond with another standard yes sir, but you’re distracted by the General’s proximity. You’ve never been this close to him before, outside of your fantasies.

“All I ever want to do is obey you, sir.” Hux can tell your tone is pointed, and he’s surprised—not unpleasantly.

“You can start today,” he murmurs, “Right here.”

“Here?” You tease him slightly. “Right here, on this floor?”

This time, it’s Hux’s turn to be rendered speechless. He only drops his gaze down to your lips, and your chin inclines ever so slightly in preparation.

“Have you found the droid?”

Kylo Ren’s unmistakably warped voice comes through his helmet, and draws Hux back to the present. He quickly stands up straight to face the grandson of Darth Vader. “I give you the news when I receive it myself, Ren.”

“You give me the news when I ask for it,” Ren replies, his voice sharp as he approaches Hux. You can’t tell if he’s looked your way or even noticed you from beneath that brooding black mask, but you can see Hux’s expression of utter hatred and distaste. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“How could one, when you have such a distinctly foul presence?” Hux shoots back. You get the impression he’s toeing the line to bolster himself in front of you, and you’re right. Ren does as you’d feared he would—he brings three fingers up in a force chokehold, and Hux’s arms immediately fly up to his neck, fingers clutching at an invisible tether.

“Don’t test me.” He chokes Hux harder, and leans in. “Double the efforts on the droid. If lives are lost, replace them. I want it found.”

“Done,” Hux wheezes out, and Ren drops him, breezing past without a single glance to you. Hux catches his breath, climbing up from his knees and righting himself.

“Interesting,” you dare to break the tense silence. “I forgot you had a boss too, General.”

“Don’t you dare insult me,” he snarls. “My boss is the Supreme Leader.” He pulls down his uniform, brushing it off. “Not that overgrown, force-sensitive brat.”

“It doesn’t look like it.” Before you can gasp, you feel yourself slammed back against the wall of the hallway. It’s deserted—no one to witness but the two of you, and obviously, Hux enjoys it that way.

“Don’t forget your place,” he growls. His hands crawl up from where they’re bracing him around you on the wall, to grip your shoulders and hold you firm. “What you have just witnessed may have been demeaning, but I will not accept your insolence or disrespect. I am the cat. You are the mouse. Am I understood?” You exhale.

“Yes, sir.” He lets you go, straightens his hat out, and sticks his chin up.

“Very well. Follow.”

You catch a smirk growing on his face as he turns to walk ahead of you, and your brain begins firing off presumptions a mile a minute. He likes to exercise his power, that much is certain and understandable. But with you, it’s as if he sees it as a game.

A game of cat and mouse.

You almost laugh at the hilarity of it, then remember that you’d gone and caught feelings for your boss and he’s toying with you over it. Now, you could groan from what seems like the worst punishment in the galaxy. When General Hux dismisses you from shadowing him today, you know he won’t be finished with you.

The next few days, things had warmed up between the two of you. Threatening eyes had softened, and harsh tones had become as playful as they could in a professional setting. However it had happened, the ice encasing Hux’s heart had begun to melt, but that didn’t mean he had gone soft. Far from it.

Back at your post the next week assigned to work on the case of the missing BB unit, you mistake approaching footsteps for a patrolling bridge officer, failing to turn around and acknowledge whoever they are.

“Eliora.”

You look up to see Hux standing above you, lips downturned in his perpetual scowl. Secretly, you hope you haven’t offended him in some way, but that’s ridiculous. You hadn’t even seen, let alone spoken to the man standing before you.

“General Hux.” You raise an eyebrow, and Hux blinks down at you. He studies your face for a moment, pleased by the submission in your eyes and the growing flush in your cheeks from his presence. He folds a cocky arm behind his back, chest broadening.

“Anything to report on the droid?”

“Transmissions from Jakku have been sparse and very limited when they do come through, but there have been sightings of one that matches the description.” Hux’s eyebrows raise.

“Excellent. Good work.” Your coworker glances over, and Hux notices the attention on the both of you. He scowls again, and takes a step between you. “What of his location?”

“He’s been spotted in the Eastern dessert. With a girl.”

“A girl?” Hux mutters. “Hm. I’ll get Mitaka on it. He can pinpoint where this wretched outcast is, and where she’s harbouring the last piece of the map.” He nods. “Ren will be pleased.”

“Are you pleased?”

A hand rubs down your back. “Very much so.” Warmth flowers throughout your body, and the hand begins to travel down and rub circles. He goes on, tone morphing not back to his usual strictness as you’d imagine, but into amusement. “Did I tell you could refer to me by my name?”

“I put General before it,” you retort. He sniffs, nods.

He seems reluctant to let you go and resume his duties as General on the Finalizer, but when officers begin to take notice of his lingering presence, he does so, leaving you with a sensual trail of his fingertip up your spine to the back of your neck. Maybe the cat has become the mouse, you think, chewing on your bottom lip as the bundle of nerves in your stomach begins to spark flame elsewhere.

It had been a long day of enduring abuse from Ren, summoning you and your coworkers in to have a fit about the droid not being found yet. It had only been a few days since the assignment had been given, and Mitaka had already been forced choked over it after one minor loss. You don't particularly like Mitaka, but his life must have flashed before his eyes during that encounter with that moody sociopath. You wonder in abject terror if the Sith had come up with mind-reading devices yet. Certainly those force-sensitives could do it whenever they liked...

Hush, back on track. Nobody wants to read your mind.

The knight wanted the crew of the Finalizer to do the impossible. You suppose the Order is in the business of getting the impossible done, but it still takes hard work and at least a little time.

Hands behind your back and posture impeccable, you walk down the sleek black passage toward the bridge. As you're heading back to your station, you notice none other than General Hux walking by you.

"General," you say, and he turns swiftly.

"Eliora. I heard what Ren did." He shifts uncomfortably for a moment. "He... shouldn't have done that."

"That's the kindest thing you've said to me in a while," you smile.

"Mm. I won’t hesitate to speak to him if he goes too far," Hux reminds you. “I have the authority, no matter how he loves to choke me for it.”

"I appreciate it."

"What he did in there was the equivalent of a child taking a tantrum. Not that it's any different than dealing with him in any other capacity." The two of you start to walk together.

"I'm used to getting yelled at," you shrug. "I'm still fresh out of the Academy."

"Ah, yes. The Academy," Hux nods. The barest glimpse of a smile crosses his lips. "It was long ago for me, but I remember the torture."

"Is that what whipped you into shape so strictly?" you asked.

"No. That was of my own doing." You both come to a stop in front of Hux's office. Tentatively, you reach forward to put a hand on the General's hip. Reflexively, he jerks at the touch, glancing everywhere and ready to reprimand you.

"What are you doing?"

"Just a little something to keep us through the day." He's still tense, as you're still his subordinate. You back away in defeat and embarrassment, but he inhales sharply at the loss of your touch. “I’m—” Giving in when he sees there's no one around, Hux takes you by the arm and holds you against his door.

"You think you can tease your superior like this?" he whispers in your ear, fingers coming up to stroke a strand of your hair that had come loose from your standard uniform bun away from your neck. He tsks. "Eliora. You know how I value respect above all things."

"Then I respectfully offer myself to you," you whisper, almost begging, and he can't resist any longer. He closes his hands over your breasts and seals your lips in a kiss. You reach your hand forward to cup Hux between his legs, and he draws in a sharp breath as he humps forward at the touch. He begins to kiss you like a starving man, as if it had been all he could do to stop himself from touching you earlier. You're just as lost in the sensations, forgetting where you are and why you can't tease him into fucking you right there in the hall against his door.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, the two of you break away from each other, and you wipe your lips as patrollers come around the corner. A small droid toots around behind them, and it backs up for a moment. Hux sneers down at it, and it beelines past the two of you. He’s only taking his anger out on it; the two of you always seem to get interrupted before anything can be done about this infernal tension.

You nod to Hux with a shrug, and he watches you go as he lets himself into his office. The sheer power he has over you is intoxicating, but for the first time, he doesn't feel the inkling to abuse it. He touches his lips as he sits down, sliding his tongue to taste you again. You do the same as you take your seat at comms and stare off through the front of the star destroyer into space.

You’re awakened by a loud banging on your door. Groggily, you open one eye to take a look at the blinking time on your watch by the bed. It’s nearly midnight.

The bang sounds again. It’s systemic, as if a droid is doing it. You know it’s not droid, however. Rising from bed, you open the door to find what you had expected—two Stormtroopers.

“Ensign Nott. General Hux requests your presence.” You rub your head.

“He has duties for me at midnight? There are alternate comms workers for that, when I’m off.”

“Come with us.”

“I have to get my uniform on—”

“He said it was urgent. No need to change.” Your eyebrows raise. Sighing to yourself and tugging on a shawl, you follow them until you reach Hux’s office. They leave you at the door, and it slides open by Hux’s control from inside.

“Enter.”

You expect him to be pacing—facing the window with his hands clasped behind his back. You expect him, despite the late hour, to be impeccably dressed as usual and at his sharpest, determined never to be seen in any state of vulnerability. Instead, you find him behind his desk, one hand braced. His ginger hair is hanging in his face as if he’s attempted to sweep it back to no avail. His lips are parted and his pale skin is slightly flushed just beneath his eyes.

“Sir, are you alright?” you ask, stepping forward. He looks up at the stormtroopers patrolling the door.

“Leave us.”

They do as he says, and you turn back to him, confusion and concern evident in your expression. The first thoughts that flood your mind are thoughts of an attack, some kind of issue or sickness even he might have come down with. Then you start to wonder why he would call you to discuss any of that. No, he isn’t sick. He looks particularly affected. Physically compromised, even, as if he had been caught in a compromising position. Standing up straighter, you present yourself properly in front of his desk.

“Thinking of me?”

“Watch yourself,” Hux snaps, panting as he sits himself up higher to appear presentable. “You know better than anyone who you’re speaking to.”

“That’s how I know what you were doing. General.”

He narrows his eyes at you, standing from the desk. He’s in a black bathrobe, one he was obviously sleeping in or got into to relax before calling you here. “And what if I told you what I was doing? How urgently I touched my cock with your name on my lips?” He turns away from you with a harsh sigh. “Our little game is becoming too heated, Eliora. Something must be done about that.” Your stomach drops. Of course you should have expected this little tryst to come to an end sometime; it’s inappropriate and dangerous anyway, and you suppose it’s for the best that it end.

“I understand.”

“Mm. Good.” He walks circles around you, but when you try to turn to face him behind you, you feel his grip on the back of your neck. You don’t feel the usual icy fingers—instead, his hand is hot tonight, clammy. “Then bend over the desk.”

“What?”

“Need I remind you again that I won’t tolerate the questioning of my authority?” he asks slowly, annunciating his command. “Over the desk.”

You obey him, bending over. The shiver that runs through you is prolonged by his hand cupping your ass through your nightie. You’re suddenly hyperaware of your state of dress, or undress as it may seem. You’re only in your small night gown and panties. “I apologize. I didn’t have time to get into my uniform when you called for me, General.”

“On this occasion, Miss Nott,” Hux smirks, smoothing your nightie up your back to expose your underwear, “You are forgiven.” His breathing becomes ragged as his other hand comes up, rolling the meat of your ass around and squeezing. “Do you know how it tortures me so to see you every day, and restrain myself?”

“I know,” you breathe, arching your back and pressing your breasts further into his desk. “I can tell by your touches.”

“Curious that an ensign could steal my affections so quickly,” he mutters, giving your ass a sharp slap. “Like a spell. I, normally, am unbreakable.”

“Except when it comes to Kylo Ren.”

“What?” he snaps. He smoothes his hand up your back again and you moan, until he grips the back of your neck once more and pulls you up to snarl in your ear: “You do not mention him here. Him, or Snoke. Here, I am your Supreme Leader.”

You nod, grinding back against him. “You seem tense. Take it out on me?”

“An inspired idea,” he nods, “But you don’t deserve it just yet.” He helps her stand up, and directs her into the other room, onto his black satin sheets. He stands over you. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble. I can’t get you out of my mind, and my performance has suffered for it.”

“Your performance on the job, or in bed?” Hux scowls.

“You know as well as I, I haven’t fucked anyone. How can I when you haunt my mind?”

“I only thought you wanted to play.”

“We’ve played.”

“You won.”

“Not yet.”

“And your work has suffered.” You pout. “How can I make it up to you?” you coo. His lips curl up again.

“On your knees.” You stalk forward on your hands and knees and meet him at the end of the bed, where he stands. You get to work untying his black robe, but do it slowly to entice him. Hux looks down at you, lips parting slightly and tongue darting out at the prospect of what you’re about to do. Flippantly, he huffs. “Take care of it.” You hum.

“Yes sir.” First, you give a small lick up his stomach, where his ginger happy trail leads up to his belly button. You keep moving up, kissing and sucking gently, sensually around his chest, until you reach his stark pink nipple and graze your teeth along it. Hux’s cock twitches into visibility through the part in the robe, and as your mouth waters, you decide to finally do as you’re told.

When you first take him into your mouth, his hand can’t help but bury into your hair. It’s not tucked into a bun like it usually is beneath your uniform cap, and he appreciates how he can finally run his fingers through it as he’d dreamed of doing each night. Every small tug of passion he gives only makes you take him deeper.

“Tell me how much you like it,” he sighs, watching your every move. You pop off with a moan, eyebrows knit. “Tell me how you’ve had no other like me.”

“It’s so good. You taste so good, General. I’ve never tasted a cock so nice... so big.” Hux’s breath hitches, and he watches you on your knees for him as he sucks in his cheekbones.

“I never imagined what talents you possessed in the bedroom,” he notes. “Especially with that silver tongue. I’ve learned however, you have a talent for obedience. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then tell me. Hold nothing back. I want to hear of your fantasies of me. What did you think of when you would watch me, your superior, walk by your station? When I would reprimand you?” For the first time in several minutes, the blush returns to your cheeks. Realizing he expects an answer, you search for words. “I expect you to speak when you are spoken to,” he growls, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The fear in your eyes makes him smirk, chin jutting out in that smug manner he always seems to possess.

“What if my mouth’s full?” you grin, kitten licking his head. Something flashes through his eyes, but you start to jerk him off before he has a chance to reprimand you again. With his head rolling back, you go on. “I thought of deliberately mixing the signals just so you would come over and take me to your office to spank me.”

“You would jeopardize the First Order’s mission just to ride my cock like a little slut, wouldn’t you?” he mutters. You look up at him, tongue out as you nod. The General buries his fingers once more into the back of your hair, guiding you back onto his cock. “Then let us correct this insatiable desire, before you get into any more trouble.” He guides you on and off a few times, and when he groans, he pulls you off and lays you down. Flipping you over onto your stomach, he humps against your ass a few times. You bite into the sheets as you feel his prominent erection prod against you, and wiggle back. “How badly do you want me?”

“I would have fucked you that day you kissed me against the wall,” you murmur into the sheets, “I would’ve let you take me right there, I wanted you so bad. I’ve held off on touching myself while thinking of you, because I wanted the real thing. I can’t wait any longer.” Hux hisses as he takes himself out of his pants, and tugs your panties down with his free hand. He slaps the head of his cock against you, getting himself slick, before he finally breaches you, bracing himself on his forearms around you and burying himself inside. You gasp, arching back, and he takes one of your hands, slamming it down in his fist and pinning it to the mattress as his other one slides between the bed and your stomach, reaching down to rub at your clit. The first stroke of his fingers makes you jolt, gasping even louder, and he nips at your ear.

“Get nice and loud. I want to know just what I’m doing to you. I want all of them to know who you belong to. The General’s little whore.” Your cries grow, the rhythm of Hux’s thrusting with each circle of his finger around you drawing out pleasure from the pit of your stomach.

“Please,” you whimper, “Sir, harder!”

“You want me to pound you until you scream, do you?” he growls. “I’ll give you exactly what you need. Move yourself back on me.” With fervour, you grind back with every pound of his cock, and he starts to grunt. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, and he presses soft kisses to the top of your back as he slows his movements inside of you to deep, gentle pumps, keeping himself at bay. Each throb you feel inside of you makes your pussy clench, and you grind back again. Hux turns you over and makes eye contact with you, lifting one of your leg up to wrap around his back. This leads to you sitting up and in his lap as the two of you push and pull and kiss hard toward your orgasm. Your lips meet his first, and he bites your bottom lip as your teeth clash and lips overlap one another’s.

“Hux,” you sigh into his mouth. He swallows your gasp, holding you up by your back. He buries his face in the nape of your neck, and your moans grow in pitch until they reach a crescendo. “Fuck—I’m coming!”

“Eli—” He shudders, sinking his face down your chest into your breasts. You feel him finish inside of you as he pounds twice, growling out his release. When you fall backward away from him, his lips are parted, forehead damp. His pale chest is heaving, covered in dark love marks you don’t remember leaving there.

The large floor to ceiling window opposite the bed gives the two of you an unobstructed view into the vast corners of space.

"I used to feel insignificant within all that before I joined the Order."

Hux hums. "I did as well. Very much so." He takes a pause to think. "At first, it was freeing to join. I had found my place in the universe-- I had found my calling. What is life without order? Then, as I raised in the ranks and took on more responsibility, I began to feel as though I was only a mouthpiece. I still feel that way, subordinate to Ren when I truly only take orders from Supreme Leader Snoke."

"I think you're a competent leader. A great one at that. You get things done like no other, and you're feared."

"Yes. I find though, I've lost some of me in who I’ve become." He runs a hand through his hair, and shakes his head. "But I have found my purpose here. At first with you, I was afraid of the disorder I would experience when another's feelings were involved. I enjoyed toying with you, of course, but then I began to worry I was getting too attached."

"What changed your mind?"

"I haven't an idea. I just made a decision. Perhaps with you in my life, I can find balance."

"The balance that we're working to restore to the universe."

"The balance of a just galaxy," he nods. "And order." Hugging you closer to him on the bed, he buries his lips into your hair.

"What's your name?" He pauses.

"What?"

You stop your hand where it's running up and down his chest. "What's your first name?" He exhales.

"Armitage."

"Armitage Hux." He smiles down at you.

"That's General to you."

"Is it?" you challenge. He sniffs.

"Perhaps not in here."

"I'd say especially in here," you whisper back, and he places a kiss to your forehead.

"Perhaps you call me by my first name, as I do you Eliora. My life, I think, could use a little disorder."

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meigh-day · 4 years

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Obligation (Tendou x Reader)

I seriously didn’t think I would be back writing a brand new story already (I can feel the looks of betrayal from the 6 other fics I was writing previously.). It’s been like a day since I finished Breathing Lilies, but here I am with a great need to get this story out of my brain. So please enjoy yet another Tendou centric fic.

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Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Mentions of Guns/Knives and Violence

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.8k

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"Is this really necessary?" You mumble out in irritation.

"Watch your tone." Kimura warned, emphasized by the look he directed at you. He’d been taking care of you since you were twelve, playing both guardian and bodyguard when the need arose. Your parents had been special to the family and when they had both been taken out during a job, you were left to Kimura to look after. Over the years, you had tried to weasel your way into some kind of work within the family, anything would have done. You'd have been happy even just guarding a door but that meant you'd need a gun and Kimura had made it clear you weren't permitted to even hold a gun, let alone learn to use one. You'd even tried to get in on the boring office work but for whatever reason any and all attempts were thwarted and thus you were left to your own devices within the confines of the house.

With a sigh you force yourself to sit upright in the chair. You had been slouching like a moody teenager and he deserved more respect than that.

"I apologize, Sensei. Please continue."

The older man let out a sigh before continuing. It's not like he was a big fan of this idea either but they needed to ensure the relationship with the Shiratorizawa group remained intact and this seemed to be the preferred method the rest of the family had agreed upon.

"It's going to take place in about a month but they want you to go stay with them before-hand so you can get to know him and get familiar with how they do things."

You chew thoughtfully at the inside of your lip as you ponder this new development. It wasn't uncommon to arrange a marriage between families to secure a new alliance or to further strengthen an old one. Now, it was your turn. For years you had complained about not being able to do something for the family that had continued to take care of you in the absence of your parents but, now that your time had come, you couldn't help but feel a little hesitant. Marrying someone you had never met wasn't your idea of romance but that didn't matter. You nod a little bit as you steel yourself, mentally preparing as you come to terms with the decision that had been made on your behalf.

"Do, do you know who it is?" Kimura nods at your question, crossing his arms as he takes a few paces across the room.

"Tendou Satori." That name, it sounded so familiar but you couldn't quite seem to bring up his image in your mind.

"You actually met him once a few years ago."

"Oh?"

"Mhm. He helped tie-up some loose ends in connection to the gang who..." He faltered for a moment, even though it had been so many years, he could still see the sadness in your eyes over the loss of your parents. It had taken several years to track down and wipe out every single rat that had had a hand in your parent's death. The family had lost a number of valuable people that day, and they made sure everyone involved paid for it dearly. You glanced up and over at him, already knowing the words before he said it, and with that brought a vision of crimson hair.

"Oh." You nodded and your sensei understood you knew the person he was referencing.

"I'm sorry. I know he's not the nicest looking person. Red hair and eyes like a demon and a personality to match."

To that you said nothing. That was not the person you remembered. In your memories you saw a smile with kind eyes to match and the loveliest red hair. Honestly, even after all these years, he was still the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Tendou had only stayed at this house for a short time but each day the two of you managed to find one another. Maybe you unconscientiously sought him out, maybe he did the same, or maybe it was just fate or a coincidence. Talking with him had been a treat and you sorely missed him when he'd finally had to return home.

"When am I expected?"

"Tomorrow."

With a nod, you offer the older man a bow before leaving. He watched you leave and let out a little sigh before retrieving his phone.

"It's me. Yea. She's gone to pack. Hm? No she understands." He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, pacing across the room to stare out the window. You had taken this so casually that it made him a little nervous. Not that you were the type to argue but he was so sure as soon as he’d told you who it was you were being forced to marry you would at least try talk to him into getting you out of it. Instead, you were on your way to your room to pack. He was less that excited to know you were going to be married to the monster of the Shiratorizawa group. Tendou was good at what he did, it was absurd how good he was actually. Kimura had seen the aftermath of the red-head's work and it had left even a veteran like him feeling uneasy. Now he had to send you off into that creatures clutches tomorrow and there was a good chance he might never see your precious face again. There was nothing to be done for it though, in the end you had a purpose to fulfill and he would make sure you got there. After that it was up to you to decide how you would handle the rest.

...

Presently, you found yourself standing in a rather large vestibule, your luggage sitting off to the side. As your eyes roam the room, you find yourself nervously toying with the hem of your shirt. An assortment of emotions plagued you as you stood waiting. You were scared, you'd had zero interactions with the people in this house and had no idea what to expect. You felt sad, you'd had less than 24 hours to say goodbye to everyone who had been a part of your life until this point. However, mixed into the sadness and the fear of the unknown, was excitement. You were genuinely looking forward to seeing Tendou once again. There was sure to be a bit of awkwardness, you were, for lack of a better term, being forced to marry each other. You wondered if he would even remember you. It had been a few years since then and it was such a short time, you couldn't imagine you had made any kind of real impression on him.

That's where you were wrong. Satori, like you, didn't remember your name right away but when reminded of that job a few years ago, your pretty face came rushing back to him. That had been the happiest series of weeks he could recall in a long time. Everyday the two of you would inevitable run into each other and spend the following minutes..sometimes hours...chatting and joking. The sound of your laugh had become his favorite song for those few weeks and he'd have given anything to hear it once more. So, when the time came for him to leave, his only qualm was that he'd had to leave you behind. At first when he'd been told they were marrying him off to a perfect stranger, he'd been ready to spill blood. His tune changed completely when they'd told him it was you. He was so thoroughly happy, for a little while anyway. Sure you hadn't know each other for long but at least you had met and every memory of you was bliss. He felt like the luckiest guy in the world but he could only imagine how you were feeling right now. The prospect of being forced to marry him, it must have been so terrifying.

Tendou was all to familiar with what people said about him, he'd used those rumors to his advantage. They helped him built up a fairly fearsome persona, though it wasn't all bullshit. He really, truly, was a terrifying being to behold when it came to completing his work. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, dripping with someone else's blood. But that wasn't all there was to him, he was still just a person, just a human being. He loved to laugh and share jokes, though they went fairly unappreciated around here. He happily devoured Shonen Jump each week, the shelves in his room practically sagged with the weight of the collected issues. He was the demon, the monster, of the Shiratorizawa Group, but he was still just a human and part of him desperately wanted to feel something akin to love. Even so, he knew there was no way someone as wonderful as you, someone so charming, so beautiful inside and out, could really truly fall for a beast like him. He knew you would do your duty and you would do it well but that's all it was, a duty, a job, a burden.

So with a sigh, he made his way through the house to collect you. He wore black from top to bottom, the only pop of color on his entire person was his dazzling red hair. You had to grit your teeth to refrain from gasping when he entered the room. He cut an impressive figure, leaning casually against the door frame, his calculating red eyes on you. You remembered he was handsome, but had he always been THAT good looking. It wasn't fair. Suddenly you felt very plain and underdressed in comparison to him. The knee-length jacket he wore on top of his outfit fluttered behind him as he crossed the threshold into the vestibule.

"It's been awhile, Y/N." He offered up a grin as he drew closer to you. Had you always been this pretty? The expression on his face did little to betray the thoughts racing around his mind as he took in your appearance. His memory of you couldn't compare to the vision before him now. You were looking up at him with wide eyes but he couldn't tell if it was in fear or awe. Though, assuming it was the former he let the grin on his lips fade until his mouth was pressed into a line.

"It's nice to see you again, Tendou." You smiled up at him, truly happy to see him again and feeling somehow lucky. Honestly, arranged marriages often ended up in extremely unfortunate pairings. Somehow you had hit the jackpot.

He hummed in response, the negative thoughts prickling in his mind wouldn't allow him a moment to just consider perhaps you meant it. Instead he noted how well you were already performing under this obligation. He hefted your two suitcases up and started back towards the door he came in.

"Wait! Let me help you with those." He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk on his lips.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. It's the least I can do as your future husband."

#tendou x reader #tendou #tendou satori #haikyuu #haikyuu mafia #tendou mafia #mafia au #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa mafia

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katherinemallory · 3 years

Text

#8 Heart in a sling

This is how we got there... #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7

I stayed in bed a little longer than usual. I still couldn’t get used to the thought of going back on active service. It was both exciting and paralyzing. And apart from that, there was no need to hurry, as I was to meet M at 1 P.M.

Still lying in bed in my pyjamas, I grabbed my phone and searched for my chat with Bond. I wanted to let him know how things were going.

You were right. M wants to see me today.

Told ya. Any plans for today? How about dinner with a handsome 00? xx

I hesitated. I’ve already accepted who my real love interest was... and it wasn’t Bond. I don’t want to give him false hope, but... it’s not a crime to eat a dinner with a man, is it? This doesn’t mean I have to marry him, I thought.

Sure. See ya there xx

I smiled to myself and unwillingly went out of my bed. I did everything lazily, enjoying the last moments of my freedom, as I knew it would end at the exact moment I enter the SIS building. I chose a grey suit and left the apartment when the time was right.

It was no easy task to find a parking spot, which heralded an intense day at the MI6.

I wondered if M has been busy since he came back to work. There must have been a lot to deal with. I would help him with *anything* if I only could... and he wouldn’t regret that.

When I stepped into my office, I went straight to the window and opened the dark blue curtains. It wasn’t the most intimate place you could imagine, but I missed it so much while I was spending my time alone during the arrest. Lots of natural light came from the window and I felt almost like at home. I sat behind my desk and began to sign the necessary documents confimring my return.

Out of the blue, someone knocked on the door. I jumped out of my chair, genuinely scared, as I didn't expect anyone to interrupt me.

"Come in," I said after a few seconds, still signing the papers.

"Hi, Katherine. It's me... do you have a minute?"

I looked up and saw Amanda.

"I even have two," I replied, pointing to the small couch next to the window. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," she said as she sat on the couch, placing her hand on her knees, as if she just came to the headmaster’s office and had to make excuses for her bad behaviour at school.

“It’s good to see you again, Amanda. I hope you feel better than the last time we talked...”

“Yes, Kath, thank you,” she stammered, glancing around. “Actually, it's not... It's not easy for me, but I'm going to confess to something..."

"Is it something about our mission in Geneva...?"

I observed her, patiently waiting for the full story.

"Well, yes and no, I suppose... the thing is...” she looked at my face and then at her hands that moved to her thighs, “that... Katherine... I'm not going back on active service,” she said and looked me again in the eyes. “I declined."

I opened my mouth in astonishment. I was just blown away.

"You did *what*? But why...?"

"I feel like it was all my fault. I just can't stop thinking about it, I can't forget how helpless I felt that day we almost got captured," she replied, and sighed. "You know... that I can't go back if I won't consult our psychologist... which I don't feel like doing right now... And apart from that I'm getting older. You can't pretend to be a successful operative forever..."

I was aware of the fact that she had a point there as she was one of the oldest agents in the section, even though she didn't look like that at all. But I couldn't imagine the section without her. I barely knew Amanda, but we got along really well quickly.

"... that is why I will ask M to reassign me. For the sake of my mental health."

For a brief moment we sat there in silence, listening to the clock’s ticking.

"Amanda... if I'm honest with you," I replied, "I don't know what to say... I'm shocked! I had *no* idea it affected you that much... I mean, obviously it was a difficult moment for both of us, but does it really have to... be an end?"

She rubbed her hands.

"Yes, Kath. I think my time's up."

...

Later that day I catched the elevator to the last floor just a few minutes before 1 P.M. I was a little nervous, not because I was unsure of my physical or psychological shape, but because I couldn’t wait to see Mallory. How does he feel? And what does he expect from me now? I was one of the double-0s suspected of being responsible for this attack after all...

I went through the long corridor and opened the door to Eve’s office.

"Hi, Eve!"

"Hi, Kath! It's good to have you back," replied Eve with a huge smile on her face. "I'd love to chat a little more, but he's ready for you..."

When Eve said "he", I felt my cheeks flush.

"Thanks," I replied and went on to open the maroon door.

And there he was. Relaxed, sitting in his armchair and casually going through the files on his desk. It must have been a bit uncomfortable, since his left arm was in a sling, but he didn’t seem to be bothered at all.

I went closer to his desk and stopped in front of it, crossing my hands behind my back.

"How's the arm, sir?"

"Oh, it's fine. It will get better," he replied as he stood up and leaned his free hand at his desk.

The sling was hardly visible, because it was nearly of the same colour as Mallory's double-breasted chalk stripe suit - very dark, but not necessarily black. But what has really caught my attention was the tie. For the first time I've seen Mallory wearing a *red* slik tie.

His words, combined with this look had quite an effect on me. I realized it and wanted to temper my feelings, but I failed miserably. A cheerful: “That’s wonderful to hear, sir,” got away from me. “We’ve been waiting to see you again!” I crowed, unable to hide my excitement.

Mallory noticed it. He looked at me curiously, forcing a mild smile. His eyebrows rose, as if he wanted me to elaborate, but I got so scared of my own opennes that I immediately withdrew.

“What I mean is that... it’s great to work with you again... sir,” I said and paused. “I suppose you’ve already seen my psychological evaluation. 002 reporting for duty,” I added, trying to sound as professional as possible.

Mallory frowned thoughtfully, and then smiled again, this time more naturally.

“Since we’re both back... I could use your help,” he said. His voice was casual. “Would you mind taking my jacket off? I feel a little warm in there.”

As he spoke these words, I realized that this request was not an official part of our meeting. Not that I mind it, I thought, and walked over to his side of the desk.

I’m not sure how it happened, but my mind played a little joke on me. I got reminded of my recent dream. Only me and Mallory in his office, late at night, kissing on his desk... oh, what I wouldn’t give to feel his arms around me right now, I thought. Strangely, I didn't fully trust myself at that exact moment, fearing that instead of helping Mallory with taking off only his jacket, I would start to passionately unbutton his shirt.

I came closer to him and hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Mallory encouraged me.

I cradled his arm in my hands and took it off the sling. Then I asked Mallory to turn his back on me, still holding his hand, which caused me to move closer to him - so close that I could smell his cologne. Then I touched the top of his jacket and helped Mallory to slowly take it off. I took his left hand as gently as I could and put it in a sling again.

His green eyes, clear as crystal, met mine when I looked up.

“Will that be all right?” I asked, realizing we were standing only inches away from each other.

“Yes,” replied Mallory calmly. “Thank you, Katherine.”

It surprised me that he has called me by my real name again, but I didn't have a chance to analyze it for long. A light winked on the phone. Mallory answered the call, putting the phone on speaker. I heard Eve’s voice.

"I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but..."

"Yes, Miss Moneypenny?"

"... 007 is here."

Mallory looked at me suggestively.

"Thank you. Send him in,” Mallory answered curtly, still looking at me.

I got the message and went to the other side of the desk just in time. The door has opened, showing James Bond entering the office.

"Welcome, 007," said Mallory. "Please join us."

Bond came to the desk and stood beside me. Mallory was standing as well.

"This one’s going to be brief. I'm glad you're both available, since I have a special mission for you,” said Mallory in his semi-friendly tone, and sat down. “It's about doing a liitle *show* to confuse our enemies. Perhaps it’s not the most important task you can ever get... but it might turn out to be... quite enjoyable."

He put a hand flat down on his desk and continued.

"I need you two to pose as a married couple during a poker tournament in Casino de Monte-Carlo. Play poker well, observe, and intrigue a few men. You’ll find all the necessary details about them in the files...”

He lowered his eyes to the desk in search for the files.

“Oh, and the Treasury will provide you the money, so try not to lose everything,” he added sarcastically, staring directly at us.

Good old Mallory is back, I thought.

"You’ve still got a few free days before your flight, so use this time well. Think about the tactics and any equipment you’ll need... This mission isn’t about any specific result, rather just an investigation, but you should remember to be careful.”

Neither of us answered him, signalizing that we understood.

“If you haven’t got any questions then... that’s all for today. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Bond and came to the desk to take the files.

“And Katherine, James... visit Q later today. He’s got some surprises for you," said Mallory in his deep, smooth voice.

We both nodded and left M’s office. I’ve stolen a quick glance at Mallory when I was closing the door. He smiled at me for the third time that day.

"James, could you please wait for me downstairs? I'll join you in a minute," I said when we're about to say goodbye to Eve.

"Anything for you," answered Bond - clearly pleased with our conversation with Mallory - and left Eve's office, closing the door behind him.

Even though both doors were closed, I lowered my voice, making sure that nor Mallory nor Bond could hear us.

"Eve, why didn't you tell me that Bond would be here as well?"

"Oh, you didn’t know this?" asked Eve. "I thought that M informed you both yesterday..."

"He didn't."

She looked quite offended.

"Well, I'm not a fortuneteller, I can't predict everything..."

"Oh, I’m sorry Eve, I didn’t mean it,” I said, shaking my head. “Actually, I don't need you to predict anything," I added, whispering. "But I could use your help. Do one more thing for me, will you?"

"What do you have in mind?"

I was just about to answer Eve's question when suddenly the door opened. It turned out that James Bond didn’t go downstair as I asked him to. He pointed to his watch.

"Kath, are you coming? The minute has passed already."

"Yes, James, I'm coming!" I exclaimed and grabbed a pen that was lying on the desk. I carelessly wrote Eve a little note:

Spy on M for me

I pointed to one of my fingers, trying to suggest what I mean. Eve managed to give me a shocking look before I was taken out of her office by Bond who refused to wait any longer and took me by the hand.

"What was so important that it took you so long?" he asked when we were walking down the corridor. He was still holding me by the hand.

"I was telling Eve how excited I am to go on a mission with you," I replied cheerfully and kissed him on the cheek. He seemed a bit confused, but put his arm around my waist.

"What was that for?" he whispered into my ear.

"A thank-you for the dinner, you fool. Or, should I say, *my fictional husband*?"

I put my arm around Bond as well, wondering if Eve understood my message... but I knew I shouldn’t be worried about it just yet. I didn’t respond very well to the silent treatment Bond gave me after our horrible argument and I wanted to take the opportunity to make things better with him. It didn’t matter to me at all what other people working for the MI6 might think, seeing me and Bond embraced like a real-life couple.

I felt bad about flirting with him, but I needed a convincing cover just in case my plan went wrong. I've already made up my mind. If M's married, then it's out of the question. I'll leave him alone and suffer in silence, wandering around the MI6 Headquarters with my broken heart in a sling for the rest of my life. But if he's single... I'm afraid I won't be able to resist the temptation...

Even if it’s going to cost me my job as a double-0.

***

To be continued.

#fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #katherine mallory #gareth mallory #m #james bond #bond james bond #002 #007 #skyfall quote #spectre quote

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gothamcityneedsme · 5 years

Note

Akira/Past!Flynn, sleeping in the same bed together for the first time?

(Im using @yarrayora's name for past!Flynn, which is Mamoru. This is obviously by its nature FILLED TO THE BRIM with headcanons. Also as usual im sending 3 sentences prompts to die and im just doing a whole drabble.)

--------

Akira knew that Mamoru lived in an empty apartment, but actually seeing it was something else. This was the reason, he realized, that whenever they were together off-duty, they always went to Akira's place. Featureless walls with only a few scant pieces of small artwork up, no pictures or anything, very few personal effects. It was the home of someone who rarely got to keep a home, someone who didn't know how to settle down and truly live in a place.

Even though he was an adult now, his past as an orphan was very clear.

There were some simple furnishings, what was necessary for a kitchenette, a small desk with a straightbacked chair, a bookshelf with mostly either old schoolbooks or nonfiction content books, a wooden wardrobe with a small mirror and hairbrush resting on top, a simple, but decently sized, bed. This could be anyone's room, and it made him saddened that this was how Mamoru lived, even now.

Akira's place was different, more lively. He lived close to his family so there were often visitors, and he at least owned a television and a couch, had boardgames in the closet, and so on. His decorations weren't too elaborate, he did live mostly for his work, but there were some movie posters and photos of family and friends. But nothing of the sort was in this barren space. It was clean though, immaculately so, everything prim and proper, and it was clear that Mamoru settled so easily into military life. Even the sheets were tucked into hospital corners.

Akira was fairly certain that he was the first person other than Mamoru or his landlord to ever be welcomed inside.

Mamoru was a few steps ahead of him, smiling but tired, they had just finished a long mission, been away for a few days. They had showered and changed on-base, but Mamoru lived a little closer to it, so he had offered to invite Akira to his for once. It was late now, the starry night sky visible through the blinds of the small window across the room. They both were ready to just collapse.

"You can take the bed," Mamoru was saying softly, "I have a futon in the closet that I'll get out."

When they were at Akira's, one of them usually took the couch. They were dating, but it felt like a barrier they shouldn't cross, not yet, but maybe it was time for that to change. "I'm not making you sleep on your own floor," Akira said as he shook his head.

"Well, I'm not letting you sleep on my floor," Mamoru replied, and he looked confused. Akira didn't usually make a fuss about that--and with how careful they had been in developing their relationship, Akira wagered that Mamoru hadn't even considered what he was about to suggest.

"Your bed is big enough," he said simply, a small smile starting to tug at the edges of his lips.

Mamoru's eyes went wide, but Akira could see nervous excitement glittering in them, "Oh. Are you--are you sure?"

"I wouldn't suggest it if I wasn't. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes!" Mamoru was practically bouncing on his toes, all evidence of his exhaustion suddenly vanishing as if they weren't both bone-tired.

They chatted a little as they got ready to sleep, Akira throwing his backpack in the corner. Mamoru seemed a bit nervous though, and Akira understood--he knew he had in general more relationship experience than him, and even though all he intended was sleep, he knew that Mamoru sometimes got a little nervous, especially when he was doing something new. New like sharing a bed with the person you loved.

Akira layed down first, settling himself in on the side closer to the wall, and he pulled the sheets back, "You coming?"

Mamoru nodded, approaching and joining him, a little tense, his face reddening as he shifted uncomfortably. He was on his back, and Akira had moved to lay on his side, looking at Mamoru. He always liked seeing him with his hair down, and even with sleepiness tugging at his brain, he kept himself awake just so he could look at him. "It's alright for you to look at me," Akira said softly.

Mamoru still hestiated a moment before turning his head and meeting his gaze. He looked shy, "I...don't want to be too...clingy."

"You can be," Akira smiled, "I don't mind. I'm the one in your bed, Mamoru."

Mamoru turned to lay on his side as well, facing him, "I'm...going to hold you, then."

He was emboldened now though, his usual confidence returning as he embraced Akira, pushing himself closer, and Akira quickly returned the favor, although it was a little awkward to figure out where to put his limbs when Mamoru dragged him to his chest. It was nice though, warm, and Akira's breathing started to deepen.

"Can I hold you while you sleep?" Mamoru whispered into his hair.

"Sure, just make sure you sleep too."

"Mmn," Mamoru hummed, his hands moving to soothingly stroke Akira's back, lulling him to sleep.

#shitpost #idamdra #my writing #this got SAPPY #this is one of the shippiest things ive written in AWHILE #WOW #gkgkgk it was fun omggg

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samsexualdeancurious · 5 years

Text

Overdue | Chapter One

Pairing: McDanno

Words: 2,425

Warnings: None

Summary: Danny’s promotion

Written for @markinmi1

Betaed by @cowandcalf

Masterlist

It’s always strange when Steve’s not at the office, even if Danny knows he’s just meeting with the Governor. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself- memories of every “how long have you two been married” joke flash through his mind at that- so he stays in his office and finishes up paperwork. Maybe he can get through it all before Steve decides to blow something up again.

When Steve finally arrives, a knot loosens in Danny’s chest; it tightens again when he sees the strangely thoughtful look on Steve’s face. Faces in that category have varying results but tend to swing one way and Danny really doesn't feel like finding out what mischief Steve has planned now.

Steve beckons, though, and Danny has to hide how eager he is to join the other man in his office.

“What’s up?” he asks.

Steve sinks into his desk chair. “Close the door.”

Danny does, even more certain now that Steve has done something terrible, possibly involving explosives or Russian spies. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Steve assures him. “I was just meeting with the Governor because I decided- and she agrees- that you’re long overdue for a promotion.”

That’s not at all what Danny was expecting to hear. “A promotion?”

“To Lieutenant.”

Danny’s mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to work out exactly how to respond to that. Finally, he gets out, “What brought this on?”

Steve gives him the patent McGarrett ‘are you serious?’ expression. “Did you forget about successfully landing a plane without killing us or anyone else, and then giving me part of your liver without any hesitation, saving my life again?”

Danny ducks his head, feeling the heat in his cheeks. “I was just doing my job.” Liar.

“This is only the most recent example of you going above and beyond the call of duty for a case,” Steve points out. “Danno, you deserve a goddamn medal, but a promotion will have to do.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. It doesn’t feel like he goes above and beyond- it’s his duty, right? Comes with the badge. He’s going to do what it takes to keep the island safe, and he’s willing to do even more when it comes to protecting Steve. He didn’t even have to think before donating part of his own body to save his partner. It was the next logical step in keeping Steve safe.

“Does it come with a pay raise?” he asks, doing his best to lighten the mood a little.

Steve laughs. “Of course.”

“Okay, good, ‘cause I’m long overdue for one. Seven years overdue.”

God, the way Steve leans back in his chair, a grin lighting up his whole face- Danny’s stomach flips at the sight. “I won’t argue. So you’ll take the promotion?”

“Yes, Steven,” Danny laughs. “I’ll take the promotion.”

The ceremony is a week later. Steve decides to pull out all the stops and he’s had his dress blues dry cleaned by a local business that’s better at the proper creases than he could ever be. He looks damn good and he knows it. Hopefully, Danny thinks so, too.

The ceremony isn’t too extravagant. A handful of other officers are also receiving promotions, but Steve barely listens to all that. He’s too busy taking peeks at Danny where his partner sits in the front row, shoulders ridiculously broad in the uniform Steve kind of really wants to tear off of him. When it’s Danny’s turn, Steve trades places with Duke at the podium. He instructs Danny through the oath, hands over the shiny new Five-0 lieutenant badge, and shakes Danny’s hand. It may just be his imagination, but it seems like Danny is checking him out a little, too.

After the ceremony, Steve gets through the necessary hand shaking and polite small talk with Duke and the other high-level officers who sat on the small stage as quickly as possible so he can join Danny and the rest of the team on the floor.

Danny has one arm around Grace’s shoulders and Charlie, who is verging on too big to be picked up, perched on his other hip, and his smile is brighter than Steve has seen in a long time. He playfully bumps Steve’s arm when he’s close enough.

“You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me, babe,” Danny says. “I’m touched.”

Steve shrugs, grinning. “Only the best for you.”

Danny might be blushing, but Steve’s not going to call him out on it. Instead, he preens internally and begins to herd the group out to the cars and back to his house, where a late lunch is waiting.

Steve soon finds himself in what is most definitely one of his favorite places- standing of a grill full of ahi, watching his friends and family mill about the backyard and beach. Kono is helping Charlie build a sand castle down closer to the water. Abby, Chin, and Adam are chatting over plates of the delicious salad Rachel dropped off the night before. Rachel herself looks on with a fond smile as Grace beats Kamekona at cards.

“That smells good, babe,” Danny says, sliding in beside Steve and offering up a beer.

He’s changed out of his uniform and is dressed now in a t-shirt that looks like it might rip if he flexes too hard. Steve himself is down to just boardshorts and a loose sleeveless tee, ready to join Grace and Kono in the ocean later. He knows for a fact that Grace leaves her swimming suit here on purpose and he’s pretty sure Kono never takes hers off.

“These are pretty close to done,” Steve replies, trying not to lean into Danny’s hand when, once emptied of the beer, he presses it to the back of Steve’s shoulder, thumb rubbing softly over the closest tattoo.

“I’ll reign in the architects.”

Steve pretends he doesn’t hate it when Danny moves away, already calling for Charlie and Kono. The boy comes running, babbling about the moat “Aunt Kono” is digging, and a warm joy wells up in Steve’s chest at the sight. Few things make him happier than seeing Danny be the wonderful father he is, even if it just involves herding his son inside to wash up.

He finally tears his eyes away, trying to make it look like he hasn’t been staring, and instead they land on Rachel, who is no longer watching Grace. She shoots him a knowing smile as she crosses the lanai, bringing a clean plate for him to put the ahi on.

“You should tell him,” she says, in that cool way of hers.

“Tell him what?” Steve asks, deciding playing dumb is his best option here.

She just rolls her eyes. “Tell him that you love him.”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up and he stares down at the grilled fish, even though the smoke stings a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” Rachel’s smile is kind and knowing, but she doesn’t push, just glides away to save Kamekona from losing his entire life savings.

After dinner, Kono pulls a huge layered dessert out of the fridge and plants it in front of Danny. His eyes go wide.

“Is this…?”

“Tiramisu,” she announces proudly. “I may have called your mom.”

“Kono, you are a goddess among women,” Danny proclaims.

She laughs, holding out the knife to cut it with. “Save your declarations of love for after you’ve tried it.”

Danny eagerly cuts into it, setting neat squares on disposable plates he than passes around until he’s sure everyone has one. Only then does he dig in, groaning happily around the first bite before pulling Kono down so he can plant a kiss on her forehead.

“Like I said,” he tells her. “A goddess among women.”

Her blush and Danny’s fond expression is more than enough to make Steve smile, even without the delicious bite he just shoved in his own mouth.

When dessert is finished, there’s more socializing, some swimming and beach games that Danny complains about but participates in, and then things slowly wind down. Leftovers are divided and people begin to trickle out. Kono leaves hand-in-hand with Adam after quick hugs from Charlie, who’s definitely going to be headed straight to bed once Rachel gets him home, and Grace. Grace herself is going home with Danny, so she sticks around to help clean up a little. Steve can see her in the backyard wiping down the patio furniture and straightening things up while he and Danny get started on dishes.

Danny is the living embodiment of domesticity right now and it’s making Steve’s stomach do funny things. He keeps glancing over at where Danny is rinsing and drying, and he never wants to do dishes alone again. Danny fits right into his home in a way no one has in years and how Steve didn’t notice it before, he has no idea.

“Whatever it is you have to say, you should say it before your brain melts from all the thinking you’re doing,” Danny says, flicking him lightly with the towel.

Steve startles- he hadn’t realized he was staring- and quickly turns his attention back to the dishes in an attempt to hide the heat he can feel rising in his cheeks. “It’s nothing.”

Danny gives him one of his patented ‘That’s bullshit and you know it’ looks. “Uh-huh. Spill.”

Shit. Steve knows Danny’s not going to let this go. Maybe Rachel is right. He should tell him.

Of course, as soon as he opens his mouth to get the words- or words of some kind- out, Grace comes skipping through the back door with all the brightness of fifteen.

“The lanai and yard are clean,” she announces, falling in on her father’s other side and taking the dish he just finished drying from his hands. “Can we stay here tonight?”

“Don’t ask me, it’s not my house,” Danny chuckles.

“Uncle Steve? Can we spend the night?” She has her mother’s brown eyes, wide and pleading at Steve around Danny’s shoulder, and she’s one of the most important people in his life. How could he ever say no?

“Of course,” he tells her, feeling himself relax into the warmth of her joy. “As long as your dad’s okay with it.”

“You have tennis in the morning and your mom will kill me if you’re too tired for that, so I don’t want you staying up late,” Danny says as soon as she turns those eyes on him. “Do you have clothes?”

“Yeah, I left some in the upstairs guest room last week,” she assures him.

He rolls his eyes. “Of course you did.”

Her grin is wicked and playful. She snatches the last dish from Danny’s hands, puts it away, and vanishes upstairs to the room that’s essentially hers since she’s the only one who uses it anymore. Danny shakes his head, turning to Steve.

“She spends way too much time with you,” he says with a stab of a finger that leaves a little wet circle on Steve’s shirt.

Crisis averted. Steve shrugs and flashes Danny the same smile as Grace, just so he can get Danny talking some more. If Danny’s talking, then everything is okay.

Steve probably really should be more concerned about how easily Danny fits into his space, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he loves it. The sight of Danny sitting in a deck chair, beer in hand and bare feet kicked up, is Steve’s favorite sight in the world, especially when combined with the knowledge that Grace is upstairs finishing her homework. Steve lingers in the doorway to soak it in.

Danny glances over his shoulder and waves his apparently empty bottle. “You gonna stand there all night?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Steve points out, the wood of the lanai cool under his feet.

“You don’t make a man wait for his beer, Steven. That’s called cruel and unusual punishment.” Danny sets his empty bottle on the small table between their chairs and takes the new one Steve offers him.

“I’m not sure that’s covered by the constitution.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Danny’s lips wrapping around the top of the bottle should be illegal, Steve is pretty sure. He settles into his own chair, tearing his eyes away before Danny catches him staring again.

“Hey, what were you going to tell me earlier?” Danny’s eyes are bright, the sunset and house light casting shadows over his face. He’s the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen, and it takes him a minute to figure out what exactly Danny is talking about.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, turning away. “I just, I wanted to tell you-”

This time the interruption is the vibrating of Danny’s phone. He frowns and catches it before it vibrates off the table.

“Hold that thought, babe.” He presses the phone to his ear and suddenly his accent is out in full force. “Hey, Bobby. Isn’t it a little late in Atlanta?... you’ll have to tell me about that case later. What can I do for you?” He rolls his beer between his fingers and takes a swig. “Aw, thanks, man. I really appreciate that.”

Steve turns away, hiding in his beer as Danny chats with who Steve assumes is an old cop friend from back east. Danny is smiling and he looks so proud of himself as he chats about the promotion.

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be moving to Atlanta anytime soon, but I appreciate the offer.”

Danny settles back in his chair and Steve can’t be there anymore. He taps Danny’s knee and murmurs, “I’m going to bed.”

The only response he gets is a nod and a thumb up, which is his permission to walk calmly- not scurry, Commander Steven J. McGarrett does not scurry- up to his room. He knows Danny has clothes to sleep in and toiletries for the morning already, so he rushes through his own bedroom routine and definitely does not throw himself onto the bed or pull a pillow to cover his face.

Danny isn’t leaving, not as long as Grace is here. He knows that. But Grace is growing up. She’ll be going to college in a few years and maybe getting married and moving on with her life, and then what? Because Danny is the best detective Steve knows and he could go anywhere. He could do anything.

He doesn’t need Steve.

“Fuck” is all Steve can say.

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save-jacksepticeye · 6 years

Text

Chapter 3: Go Back To Sleep

A/N: Finally back with the next chapter. I had a little too much fun with this one. Alternatively titled “I’M AN EDGY BITCH WHO NEVER STOPS WHINING”. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Blood, paranoia, hallucinations mention. Not as heavy as the previous two.

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A few days passed. Jack continued recording, keeping up the facade for the camera and, most importantly, for the demon buzzing in his skull. He had noticed that morning that Anti seemed to be getting restless, done with whatever business had commanded his attention and ready to reassume control. Jack had just gritted his teeth and pushed through it, relishing the feeling of denying Anti the satisfaction. Anti hadn't tried to push it; Jack had done nothing to upset his plans. Not yet.

As with everything else, Signe's presence seemed to quell the beast, muting him to a bearable level. She had taken to standing just outside his recording room as he went about his duties, listening to his joyous shouts and silly jokes, ready to throw open the door if something happened, providing an anchor if ever Jack needed it.

That was where she found herself this time, listening, waiting, hoping. Her prayers went unanswered as the common silence after his outro stretched on, and on, and on, too long. Hesitantly, she cracked open the studio door, peeking inside. Jack was in his chair, head in his hands, muttering something too quiet for her to pick out the words.

“Sean?” she called. No answer. She crept forward, called again. Still no answer. She moved forward again, stopping as Jack's words became clear. Her face fell.

“...not real, it's not real, none of it's real, just a trick, just your mind playing tricks on you...”

Signe put a light hand on his shoulder and he started, whipping around to face her. “Sean? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. Just got a little spooked is all.” He took her hand, holding it for a moment before squeezing and letting it go. She didn't push him. He would talk about it when he was ready. Until then, all she could do was be there for him.

“Okay. I just got a little worried. Hey, I ordered takeout for dinner.”

Jack perked up a little and smiled faintly. It was a strained smile, painfully forced, and he hoped Signe didn't notice. “Thanks, Wiish. Could you...give me a couple of minutes?”

Signe nodded. “Of course. Just call if you need anything.”

“I will.” Signe brushed his shoulder lightly and slipped out of the door, closing it softly behind her.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and sat back roughly. He couldn't keep doing this much longer. It was tearing him apart at the seams just trying to keep himself together, and even with Signe's help he wasn't getting much better. His nightmares were getting progressively worse, and he had begun to see things and hear things as well, shapes, voices, screams, the flash of a blade out of the corner of his eye, or the twisted visage of Anti staring at him whenever he saw his reflection. He didn't know whether it was his own mind or some ploy of Anti's, but it made him tense and flighty, too scared to so much as look in the mirror.

He had a sick feeling that there was only one thing that would make all of this stop, to allow him to heal. It terrified him, made him want to run and hide, curl up in a dark corner somewhere where Anti couldn't find him. But the more he forced himself to think about it, the more he realized he might not have a choice. He had to, if he wanted the nightmares and the hallucinations and the breakdowns to stop.

And the others...he remembered what Signe had told him a few days earlier, their efforts to try and wake him up. His own memory was hazy, indistinct. Fear, a voice, a brief moment of clarity, then nothing. Jack couldn't just leave them there, not after everything they had done for him. He would have to go through with it, for all of their sakes. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't.

Jack took a deep breath and rose from his chair, leaving his recording room and meeting Signe in the kitchen. He gave her a reassuring smile and told her he was okay, feeling better. He would have to tell her, but not before he got to spend some more time with her.

It was the first time all week that they had eaten something other than fast food, and it was a welcome change. Every once in a while, Signe would glance up from her plate, hoping Jack didn't notice as she made sure he was eating. She knew he was doing better, but she couldn't help but worry that he would suddenly regress.

He confessed to her about his hallucinations, and the strain they put on him, and she did everything she could to help him. Mirrors stayed covered unless absolutely necessary, and there was always soft music or the TV going in the background. They went out more, to movies, or dinner, or just for a walk, and Signe was never gone for more time than necessary. If groceries or anything else were needed, they went together.

But nothing seemed to help. More and more frequently she would find herself startled awake by his thrashing or his screams, and she would often find him glancing over his shoulder, looking for things that weren't there, or staring off, focusing on voices only he could hear. Finally, a few nights later, he cracked.

“I can't do it,” he said. “I can't stand it anymore, all the screaming and the voices and...” Tears rolled down his face and the lump in his throat forced him into silence for a moment as he stared down at the table, tracing the grain of the wood with his eyes. “I have to go back,” he said softly. “I have to go back and face him. I don't want to live like this, fucking scared out of my mind, paranoid that he'll come back and hurt you, or someone else. I just...I want to be free.” He was shaking now, and Signe moved her chair over to his side of the table, giving him a place to wipe his tears.

Signe said nothing, only rubbed his back comfortingly. There was nothing she could say. If he had any chance at all of ridding himself of this, she would do whatever it took to help him.

He took a deep breath. Crying would get him nowhere; he needed a plan. “I need to find the others. Maybe together we stand a chance. But...the community, their enthusiasm for him is overwhelming. I don't know.” He slumped in his chair.

“We'll find a way,” Signe said. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, eyes downcast as they sat in silence. Then, suddenly, she perked up, a lightbulb going off. “Wait, Sean, that's it!”

Jack looked up at her, confused. “What's it?”

“Maybe we could use the community's energy against him. Maybe if we focused it somewhere else, we could weaken him.” Slowly, Jack's expression brightened, and he straightened, a bit of the fire returning to his eyes now that they were making progress. He felt stupid for not thinking of it before, and now the beginnings of a plan were sprouting.

“Signe, you're brilliant. I think that gave me an idea.”

He could feel Anti stirring slightly in the back of his mind as he strode down the hallway, but whether the glitch knew of their plan or not was as of yet to be seen. For now, Jack chose to ignore him. The time would come when that wouldn't be possible, but for now he knew he had to focus on his plan. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and his hands trembled, but he ignored that too.

The short walk seemed to stretch for eternity, feeling more like a funeral procession. Every single instinct was screaming at him to turn back, to abandon it all, not to tempt fate with such a reckless course of action. Of course, there was no going back. He never had that choice in the first place.

He eased the door open, flicked the lights on and erased the message scrawled on the whiteboard, replacing it with one of his own. Anti stirred more strongly. Jack could hear the glitch's warning ringing in his ears: “Don't do anything that you might regret.”

“I won't,” he said, easing himself into his chair.

Monitors on, camera working properly, stream setup ready to go. Jack went through a mental checklist, making sure everything was in its right place and working properly. Once he started recording, there would be no time for interludes.

Jack glanced at Spiderloaf, who was watching diligently from his place on the monitor. “Wish me luck, buddy.” He pulled his chair closer to his desk. Within five minutes, the stream was up and running.

“Uh, what's up guys? Holy shit, there's already like eight thousand of you here. Hi.” He waved half-heartedly, not trying to hide his exhaustion or the fear that was creeping into his eyes. There were some concerned comments, but he ignored them, sitting in silence while the viewer count steadily rose. Anti buzzed like a hive of angry wasps in the back of his head.

“So, I don't have much time here,” he said a minute later, suddenly growing serious. “I need your help.” A whipcrack of pain made him double over and he hissed, clutching his head, fingers tangling in his hair. The chat began to overflow with concerned and uneasy comments. Gritting his teeth, Jack continued.

“He's coming soon, I can feel him. But I need you to listen. We're trapped, and we're all his prisoners. We need your help if we're going to escape alive.” He doubled over as another wave of pain hit him. A steady stream of blood now poured from his nose and he wiped at it with his hand. “He's killing us, he—” Another lightning bolt lanced through his skull, spattering his vision with glitchy spots of green, red, and blue. Anti's laugh rang in his ears.

Jack grabbed the camera desperately, smearing it with bloody fingerprints. He had maybe two or three more minutes, then it would be too late. Bloody tears traced paths down his cheeks as he spoke again. “Please, you have to help us. Don't let him win, and don't believe anything he says. Ignore him.” A scream was torn from his throat and a burst of static shot across the footage as he fell to the floor, his entire body feeling as if it was on fire. “Help me!” he cried.

Another spattering of static and the image shattered, glitches scattering the picture to the digital wind and bringing the stream to an abrupt end. Jack hauled himself to his feet, head twitching spastically. Resist, resist, he had to fight! His door flew open. A ringing began in his ears and his vision began to shift as Signe rushed towards him. Vaguely, he thought he heard her call his name. Her lips moved, but his ears registered nothing but the ringing.

A spastic giggle nearly split his skull in half and he fell to the floor, convulsing as he struggled against the overwhelming source of Anti's power. He tried to shove Signe away as she dropped to her knees beside him. “Ge' away!” he slurred. Save yourself, he tried to finish, but all that came out was a strangled groan. He could feel his control slipping away, water through his fingers. Jack fought it as hard as he could, tooth and nail, but it wasn't enough. There was one last deafening burst of white noise and Jack's vision went black.

Signe froze when Jack went limp. The air suddenly grew leaden, almost poisonous, and she could have sworn the temperature had dropped a few degrees. Hesitantly, she moved to kneel at Jack's side, her hand going to her mouth as she saw the blood oozing from his nose and eyes. As she did, she caught sight of the whiteboard out of the corner of her eye. She turned to read it, taking her eyes off of him for a split second.

“Don't believe his lies.”

Anti's laugh drew her attention away from the message and she whipped around, coming face to face with the glitch. He twitched, a grin splitting his face as Signe jumped and backed away from him, stopping only when the rough padding of the wall brushed against her back.

“He thought he could stop me,” he said, “But he was weak. You knew that, but you still encouraged him. He's mine again, and it's all your fault.” His knife materialized in his hand and he pointed it at Signe. His head twitched spastically, jerking to the left, then the right, his expression suddenly serious. “Now it's just back to the grind, isn't it? After all, nothing you do could possibly help poor Jackaboy now, not with him locked up tight.”

Signe was on the verge of tears, and her voice shook as she responded. “Let him go. What did he ever do to you?”

Anti's expression grew angry, lips drawing back in a savage snarl, and he drove his knife into the wall, making Signe wince and press herself tighter against the foam. “You want to know what he did to me—to us?” He ripped his blade out of the foam, knuckles white as he gripped it. He was practically shaking with rage, his body pulsing rapidly as he glitched. “He buried me, kept me locked up inside that hellhole inside his head. He thought he could control me! He thought he could make me dance in front of the camera like a fucking puppet.” His eyes turned black. “He was wrong.”

Signe's eyes darted towards the door, judging her chances of escape. If she could just distract him long enough to reach it…

A cold hand around her neck made her freeze. “You think you can escape me? Maybe it's time I did a little editing of my own.” His knife disappeared and he raised his hand, sickly green energy crackling between his fingertips, a wicked grin splitting his face. Signe's eyes widened and she squirmed in his grip, trying to keep whatever that light was away from her. The hand around her throat constricted and she struggled for breath. Darkness pressed at the edges of her vision and she struggled harder.

“No,” she managed to rasp as she weakened, “Fuck you. You won't win. I won't let you.”

“We'll see about that.” Anti touched his fingers to her forehead. She gasped as a sharp pain split her skull and a wall of white enveloped her vision. Then she collapsed, eyes flashing a bright septic green, hands going limp. Anti released her, letting her slide to the floor, still grinning. “Go back to sleep.”

Tags: @nebula-starlight @rainymae523 @farming-chick @egopocalypse

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jse #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jse fanfiction #tw: blood #tw: paranoia #creek’s imagines #jacksepticeye egos #septic egos

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fuckingchatnoir · 6 years

Text

Fanboy Chapter 7

Ao3 link

Full chapter below the cut

Adrien returned her hoodie two days later, it was inevitable. He wanted to talk to her again. As he began to think about their last encounter, the night after, he realized that she possibly wanted to talk to him again as well. Over the past few months he had noticed that Marinette was a very responsible and aware individual. She wouldn’t have allowed him to simply leave with her hoodie unless there was a reason behind it.

And Adrien liked to believe that the reason was to see him again.

And even though he never got a solid answer, she didn’t look that shocked the next time she saw him and even offered him a hot chocolate before they fell into simple conversation. So, he guessed that it meant that she was at least okay with him returning, whether she intended for him to do so or not.

He didn’t visit every day of course since they both had lives and that would’ve been pretty weird, but when he would visit she was always welcoming and kind and they would talk about casual things the same way close friends would when talking about their weekends while walking to class together on a Monday morning. It was all so nice. Marinette was so nice. And even though he wasn’t exactly opening up to her about personal matters or discussing his story as she had offered previously, she never brought that up and looked happy to just talk to him about things like food and a cat that followed him for four blocks straight one day.

His visits would’ve been considered even routine if he had an actual set day of the week for them. However, due to his schedule, some days he would be too exhausted to visit whether it’d be because of his schoolwork, job, or hero duties. And Marinette seemed to understand that since she never questioned his timing. She’d usually just roll with his spontaneous visits and maybe tell him that he’d have to leave within an hour if she was too tired or had to wake up early the following day. And he’d nod in understanding, and they’d talk. And that’s how things went for a while until one Friday night.

It was almost midnight, Plagg was watching some documentary on aliens and criticizing it as usual, and Adrien was trying to write his next chapter. And by trying he meant as in attempting to do so but failing. He had written two paragraphs already that were introducing the new setting that Felix was in. However, Adrien felt that it was getting too lengthy. Half of the sentences were just one long description on the way the sunlight was shining through a window, highlighting the blue in Bridgette’s eyes. And he felt himself groan after rereading the lines for a while.

The opening scene was supposed to be romantic, yes. But he also didn’t want to write Felix as some cliché male protagonist that didn’t pay attention to his love interest because he was too distracted by their eyes.

Besides, now that he was thinking about it, FrenchBeauty95 had written something similar a few chapters ago.

Dammit.

In frustration, he highlighted everything with his mouse and deleted his words, staring at the three blank white documents soon after in dramatic agony.

He knew what he wanted to write in that chapter. From the fight sequences to Felix’s wonderful puns, he knew what was going to happen.

However, he didn’t know how to actually put it into words. And that was slowly killing him from the inside out.

He fell back into his seat and rolled himself away from the screens, his hands rubbing at his eyes so they had something to do. Yet another loud groan released from his lips and Plagg shushed him immediately.

“Plagg, I think I have writer’s block.”

“No, I think you’re just over-dramatic. I’m trying to listen.”

“You don’t even believe in aliens.”

“I don’t, but this human does, and his argument is hilarious.”

Adrien lowered his hands down and got up from his seat, walking himself over to the couch to be closer to his friend.

At least that’s what he tried telling himself when his mind was telling him that he was procrastinating.

I just want to have a quick conversation with him, and then I’ll get back to writing.

He placed his hands on the back of the couch, tempted to lean himself against it to rest for a while even though he’d been sitting down for almost an hour prior.

His eyes flickered to the screen and then back at Plagg for a few minutes, the silence between them comfortable. The program was interesting to say the least. Even though the narrator was a bit over-excited, it was still fascinating.

“How do you not believe in them? There’s so much evidence.” Adrien said.

Plagg responded but still did not turn to look back at him. Instead he stuffed a piece of cheese in his mouth and Adrien scrunched up his nose in disgust at the smell.

“You’re telling me that a world can survive without cheese?!”

Adrien snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Plagg. Is that really your counter argument?”

Plagg didn’t say anything.

“And anyways, how do you know that they don’t have cheese? Maybe they have some sort of space cheese that’s only available on their planet. Maybe it’s even better than Camembert.”

That got the god to finally look at him. He even floated to get close to the teen’s face, his small breaths tickling the teen’s nose.

“Nothing is better than Camembert.”

Adrien chuckled, “Yeah, of course. Whatever you say.”

The kwami nodded seriously.

“Why are you talking to me anyway? Don’t you have to form words on those contraptions or whatever to impress pigtails?”

“You mean write my story on my computers? Why, yes. But I was just taking a break,” He turned his head to the side slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. A light pink dusted his cheeks. “And I’m not writing it to impress Marinette.”

Why did it feel like he was lying?

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, what were you complaining about earlier?”

Plagg was no longer interested in the documentary, and completely ignored the television. So, Adrien leaned himself over the back of the couch to grab the remote from the cushion to turn it off. If he left it on all night again his dad would probably lecture him, and he wasn’t ever in the mood for that.

He sighed.

“I promised my readers a new chapter by tomorrow and I still have no clue how to write it.”

“All you gotta do is press those box letters that form words and make sentences. You told me yourself? I thought you knew.”

“Plagg, I didn’t mean that literally. I meant that I have the story in my head, but I don’t know how to introduce it, how to describe the actual scenes the way I imagined it, or how to make the body language in some parts. And I should include all the senses in my writing, but I don’t find it necessary to write about scent in this chapter? But also, this writing website said-“

“Kid, you lost me at Plagg.”

Adrien scowled.

“Why don’t you just ask Pigtails for help again? Didn’t she offer that one time?”

“I already saw her on Wednesday. I can’t just go again. And besides,” The teen began to rub the back of his neck timidly. “What if she offered that night just to make me feel better?”

Plagg tilted his head in confusion.

“Um yes? That seems to be the reason. And?”

Adrien groaned.

“That would mean that she said it to be nice but didn’t actually mean it, Plagg!”

“If she didn’t mean it then why would she say it? You’re overthinking this.”

“I am not- “Adrien groaned once more and slid his hand into the right pocket of his sweats. “You just don’t understand.”

“Obviously. You humans make everything too complicated. So, are we going or not?”

Adrien tried to scowl at him, but instead he nibbled lightly on his bottom lip in thought - Plagg floated over to his left shoulder to rest himself on it as he awaited his friend’s answer.

“You really think she meant it?” Adrien asked.

Plagg sighed, nuzzling his face into Adrien’s cotton shirt.

“She hasn’t stopped you from coming has she?”

“No but- “

“Then that means for some odd reason she finds your company enjoyable.”

Adrien didn’t respond so the small god nodded, and Adrien felt it on his shoulder.

“Yeah, kid.”

Adrien smiled to himself and nodded back.

“Okay then, claws out!”

There were a few people out that night, so it took Adrien a bit longer than usual to get to Marinette’s charming home. Not that he really minded. The clouds that barely hid the moon made it look more mysterious and bright, Adrien having enjoyed the calming and enchanting atmosphere. He also figured out where he wanted his next fight sequence to take place. While hiding from tourists he spotted the side of an abandoned building with its entirety covered with graffiti.

He thought it would make the fight look even cooler.

Once he finally arrived at his friend’s balcony, he noticed how the light in her room was on through the trap-door near that recognizable deck chair. He cleared his throat before he walked up to it and gave it a few knocks with his extended baton. His back was straightened, his shoulders were back, and his teeth were revealed through his usual welcoming smirk as he leaned himself against his baton, waiting for his friend to finally come up.

He heard her coming closer and then the door opened, revealing her bare freckled wrists and painted nails.

“Good evening, Puuuurincess.” He whispered.

He didn’t see her roll her eyes, but he could tell that she did by the tone of her voice.

“Come on in.”

He entered and took himself to her chaise in what seemed like less than a minute, the action seeming almost routine now. She walked over to her desk, her desktop on and lit up with an opened document. Chat noticed that her hair was down again, and she was wearing that familiar over-sized hoodie. He smiled softly.

“Give me a second. I’m almost done with this.”

“No worries, take your time.”

He heard her fingers tap rapidly against the keyboard. Her thoughts seemed like they were racing quickly in her head like wind or breathing. Chat found it oddly relaxing and rested himself down against the chaise, staring up at the ceiling as he awaited. Marinette was a fast typer.

“Alrighty,” He turned his head to look at her, and saw a small satisfied smile playing on her lips. Whatever she just finished writing, she looked to be proud of it and of herself. She swiveled her body in her chair over to the hero and placed her feet on the chaise right beside his knees, leaning her body back against her chair. Her hands were rested on her thighs, clasped together like she was preparing herself for a meeting.

He almost snorted at that.

“So, what’s up?” She began.

He rose an eyebrow and smiled.

“What were you writing back there that made you so happy? Did a certain talented and fan-cat-stic hero actually inspire a certain sophisticated maiden to start her own fanfiction?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she flicked his forehead gently.

“That will never happen, especially not by someone that uses horrible cat puns on the regular.”

“Hey!”

She chuckled.

“I’m the class president at my school and I just finished writing up a proposition to show my principal on Monday.”

“Oh? What about?”

“A lot of the books in the library seem to be kind of outdated. And a lot of students have been wanting newer material. I was thinking we could donate the old books and purchase new ones. Took me a few weeks to persuade him to even listen to me, but I finally got him to budge and yeah. I think it’s good.”

A light pink dusted her cheeks as she pushed some of her hair back behind her ear shyly. A small smile spread on her lips.

Chat felt his stomach flutter, so he cleared his throat.

“That’s awesome!”

She shrugged modestly before crossing her right leg over her left, her foot almost brushing Chat’s lower thigh.

“So, why are you here? You don’t usually visit more than once a week.”

This time he shrugged before he sat himself up to get a better look at her.

“I…um…was bored? Wanted to see how you were.”

He wasn’t necessarily lying since he did often wonder how his friends were doing, however, that wasn’t the whole truth and Marinette seemed to grasp that easily enough.

“Uhuh.”

“Yeah. And you seem to be doing great! So that’s cool!”

He laughed awkwardly before he noticed Marinette’s eyes flicker to his hands that were rested on his lap. He was unknowingly fidgeting his fingers. He stopped almost immediately.

Marinette gave him a knowing look with her eyebrows raised and he finally let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“I need your help.”

She hummed. “With what?”

“With the next chapter of my story.”

He wasn’t looking her in the eye and his cheeks felt warm.

She nudged his thigh with her foot and he glanced back up at her. She had a small reassuring smile playing on her lips and for some reason his face felt even warmer.

He sighed.

“I know what I want to happen in this next chapter, but I’m not sure how to write it or what details to add. I have certain plot points in mind, but I don’t know what to put in-between them? And I definitely have no idea how to start off this chapter.”

“I’d like to help but I don’t think I’m the best person to come to about this. I don’t really write.”

“But you’re super imaginative!” He blurted out before he could even think about what he was saying. Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and Chat almost slammed his hands against his mouth.

He couldn’t just tell her that he found her sketches amazing. He couldn’t explain how intelligent she sounded when she would answer a question in their literature class. And since she never talked about her designs with Chat Noir, he couldn’t just bring that up out of nowhere. So, his eyes started to search the room quickly as he, yet again, attempted to channel his inner Ladybug to see if he could spot something that could help him out.

And then his eyes stopped searching and he almost sighed in relief.

“That mannequin,” He started almost excitedly. His right hand pointed to the object behind him that was wearing an unfinished blue ruffled blouse. It looked to be made of a shiny silk fabric and the color reminded him of his partner’s eyes. And maybe those of another’s. “You designed that, right? You’re a designer?”

He looked back at the girl and saw her expression soften, looking less skeptical.

“Oh, yeah I am. But that doesn’t mean I can write.”

“I don’t want you to write. I just want to see if you can help me brainstorm ideas? I mean,” He turned to glance at the blouse another time and couldn’t help but smile fondly at it. “You seem to be really good at that.”

Designing wasn’t easy, Adrien knew that probably better than anyone in his class - excluding Marinette of course. Ever since he was a child he would see the way his father would spends days, sometimes weeks, on rough drafts of designs that would eventually never become finalized and thrown in the trash. It was a long and tiring process. So, when he looked at that blouse on the mannequin that only had one sleeve carefully pinned to it, Adrien knew that it wasn’t any different for Marinette.

She was a hard and very creative worker and it was always so evident.

A small giggle took him out of his thoughts and he returned to his position from before, looking at his friend.

“Puns may get you nowhere, Chat. But flattery will get you everywhere.”

Adrien felt his lips separate a little.

“Tell me what you got so far. I’ll give it a try.”

They planned for what seemed like minutes but what were actually hours, the time having gone by quickly as if someone fast-forwarded their lives without them knowing. It wasn’t until Marinette yawned rather loudly that one of them finally checked the time. It was late, almost four in the morning late, and Chat almost spat out the water that he was drinking when the girl had notified him.

“Seriously?” He asked, still astonished.

“Crazy right?”

Yeah, he needed to get home immediately. If his father happened to check up on him he would be utterly screwed.

To say the least that is.

“Geez, I didn’t know it was so late. I’m so sorry, Marinette.” He apologized as he placed his glass on her desk right beside the plate of cookies she’d brought up earlier. His guilt was visible in his tone.

Marinette shook her head.

“No worries. It’s my fault too. I should’ve been more watchful of the time.”

He started walking over to her circular window and she followed behind. They both yawned in unison and both of their feet seemed to drag along the wooden floor.

“Guess we got a little carried away, huh?” He asked as he stopped right behind her chaise, his baton ready in hand.

She smiled and shrugged.

“At least you know how to write the chapter now.”

“Yeah, and then some. Thank you so much again, Marinette. I owe you one, really.”

She shook her head tiredly and ran her fingers through her bangs, attempting to move them more to the side.

“You don’t owe me anything, Chat. You were the one that came up with more than half of the ideas. I just tweaked a few things.”

“A few things? The akuma’s name now is Blackhole and he has a shadow that can devour buildings! That’s so badass.”

The girl touched the side of her chin with her index finger thoughtfully and her giant sleeve fell to her elbow.

“You are right about that. It is pretty badass. I do take full credit for that one.” She admitted, causing the two to laugh softly. “But seriously, it was… kind of fun.”

Chat waggled his eyebrows and Marinette immediately looked like she regretted her words.

“Is the princess gonna give fanfiction a chance now?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself hero. This doesn’t mean I’m going to start avidly reading stories about you and your partner loving it up,” Chat’s face reddened almost instantly. “But, it was interesting to see the whole planning process.”

“Yeah?”

Her arms were crossed over her chest now.

“Yeah. It was…cool.”

“Ah.”

“I’ll be looking out for an update email. I think it’s gonna be good.” Marinette winked, and Adrien felt a sense of something pleasant rush through him. What it was, however, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t question it.

“Oh, Okay.” She smiled. He nodded since he didn’t really know what else to do and glanced at the window for a second before looking back. He held his baton with both hands nervously.

“So, before I go I just want to make sure of something,” He cleared his throat, trying to make his tone sound nonchalant. “Is my story still the only one you’re reading?”

“Yup. And the only one I will read.”

He blushed slightly and nodded again.

“Cool. Cool.”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled before reaching behind him to push open the window. A light breeze swept in.

“Goodnight, Chat.”

Adrien almost giggled, her hoodie was way too big for her. He bowed instead.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

Chapter 16 of “The Empty Streets of Paris”

--by FelineGood16 on FanWorkz.net

Ladybug is running towards him. And it’s not the usual kind of running where someone speeds up to get to a certain place faster. It’s the kind of running that’s desperate, as if her life depended on it. Felix sees her emotion through each rough landing - he feels her concern every time her knees bend.

She’s worried about him.

He’s under rubble, he can’t feel his right arm, and he’s trying to smile at her. But instead he wails in pain.

“Chat!”

She’s on her knees now right beside him, quickly picking up the broken and scattered pieces of cement to free him. His eyes are closed shut and his teeth are grinding against each other almost violently. He tastes blood.

“I’m sorry, Chat. Crap, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what to do. You’re hurt and you need to go the hospital, but also your identity I-“

“You’re okay.” He whispers in between breaths.

She’s crying now, and Felix would wipe her tears if he could lift his arm.

“You’re an idiot. Y-you shouldn’t have done that,” Her right hand is on the side of his face and her breaths are brushing the tip of his nose. She strokes his cheek gingerly with her thumb - her eyes glisten from the moisture.

“The akuma.” He says.

“I know, kitty.”

He’s never heard her use that soft tone with him before. He wishes the circumstance was different and closes his eyes.

She taps his cheek.

“Hey, hey, stay with me.” They both hear an explosion from afar and she lowers her head. Her bangs are hiding her eyes and she sniffles. “What do I do? I don’t know what to do.”

Chat Noir whispers her name and hopes she can hear him.

“Win, my lady.”

Adrien visited Marinette’s home the following week to show her all the comments and reads their chapter got. It was one of the most well received chapters he’d ever posted, and Marinette was almost as flabbergasted as he was. She warmed up some celebratory popcorn for them and they both laughed and answered comments for the rest of the night on her desktop.

The audience seemed to enjoy just about everything in the update. From the akuma (as Adrien had expected), to the romance, to the major battle scene between Blackhole and Ladybug at the end that was a mixture of both suspense and awesomeness. It was all taken so well, and it made Chat feel all bubbly inside.

Marinette seemed to have felt the same way since she giggled at almost every comment that was about the akuma itself. She kept glancing over at Chat with the biggest grin on her face while she read a few of the responses aloud.

Adrien realized then that Marinette had a very contagious smile. Each time he saw even a hint of her teeth he couldn’t help but mirror her expression. Especially when her cheeks were rosy too and were lifted in that way that made her eyes sparkle and look squinted. He only ever saw that smile when she was around Alya, or really anyone else besides him and Chloe. That expression was reserved for friends and loved ones only, and now that he was finally getting to see it for himself because of something they did together, well he couldn’t get enough.

“A job well done, Chat. You did good.”

“We did good.”

She looked up at him again from her seat and smiled once more before nodding.

“Yeah. That too.”

He nodded back and they both turned their attention back to the screen, Marinette still scrolling through the web page. Adrien lowered his body even more, since he was standing, so he could get a better view of the computer and decided last minute to look at his friend instead. His mouth was beginning to fall open, as if to say something, but he couldn’t remember exactly what he even wanted to say. So, he swallowed and cleared his throat before closing his mouth again, those potential words still lingering somewhere in the back of his mind.

The lights in her room were off, with the exception of her dim desk lamp and screen, so the shadows on her face emphasized her features. Her long eyelashes casted shadows on the very top parts of her cheeks, outlining almost each lash. The white screen in front of them was reflected in her eyes and made the remaining blue shade appear illuminated, like the color was barely there. Marinette had pale skin so the light coming from her desktop easily gave it a light blue tint that really brought out her freckles.

She had so many.

“Chat!”

Adrien almost jumped at his friend’s abrupt tone. She’d been talking to him and he was too busy staring at her to listen.

Oh my god.

“Y-yes, Marinette?”

He was hoping that the heat in his face wasn’t physically evident in the dark room. He could feel it go up to the tips of his ear.

“I asked about your author’s note.”

He couldn’t look her in the eye anymore, so he decided to look back at the screen. He rubbed his knuckles on his thigh.

“What about it?”

“You said someone helped you.”

“Yeah, and?”

She didn’t respond.

“Is that a problem? I mean I didn’t state who you were or anything, but I can take it out if you want?”

He would’ve felt dirty if he didn’t credit Marinette in some way. She did help him get out of his small writer’s block and even helped him come up with a few ideas for his next chapter. It was the very least he could do.

However, maybe he should’ve asked if it was alright with her first. He started to feel guilty until he met her eyes again. She was smiling softly. Gosh, it was like Marinette had a different smile for each mood.

“Nah, it’s alright. But next time you don’t have to say that. It’s fine.”

Adrien’s eyes widened.

Marinette cocked an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

He tried to suppress a grin and shook his head.

Next time. There’s going to be a next time.

“Nothing. But, I think I’m still going to credit you when you do help. If that’s okay.”

She eyed him silently for a second; her eyes trailed up and down his face before she finally mirrored his expression and shrugged.

“Fine by me.”

“Kim, it’s almost nine at night and I’m starving. Can you please cut the competition crap for one second?” Alix complained as she and Adrien finally walked out of the movie theater into the fresh, cool air. They just finished watching this new indie horror movie that Nino had wanted to see for a few weeks now. It was about some gigantic slime slug that ate vegetarians. It was very odd, but it did have nice camera angles and transitions and Alix and Nino kept hitting his arm at some parts with bursts of excitement and laughter, so it wasn’t all that bad.

Though, his right arm did feel a bit sore. That was the one Alix kept hitting.

“Just one second, Alix. Nino’s about to owe me twenty euros!”

Both Nino and Kim were ahead of the two, standing by a small tree that had a circle of brick surrounding it. Kim was trying to chase some pigeons away, and Nino was staring down at him with frustration, his arms crossed.

“I’m not going to owe you anything. You literally just pulled me over here so you could scare a few birds.”

Kim continued to laugh, ignoring the other boy as he fell to his knees. He started to walk himself in that manner with his hands open and his fingers bent as if he had claws. He began to make this ridiculous sound with his mouth that sounded like he was trying to mimic the slime monster from the movie and Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle, his hand covering his mouth shyly.

“Oh god, please don’t encourage him, Adrien.” Alix said, her head turned up to the side to look at him. She was so tiny and since she wasn’t wearing her signature cap that night, she looked even shorter than usual. It was adorable.

Adrien shrugged and tried to suppress a smile. She rolled her eyes teasingly and walked herself over to a bench near the tree. She sighed once she sat down, and Adrien wasn’t sure what to do so he sat on the bench as well. She slid her phone out of her pocket and pressed the home button immediately, the brightness from her screen causing her to squint briefly as her eyes tried to adjust to the lighting. She cursed under her breath and Adrien glanced back over at Kim and Nino. Nino had started to film their friend on his phone – most likely for snapchat – and Kim was starting to screech at the camera, still in character.

A few people that were exiting the theater were starting to stare at their group with confused expressions on their faces, and Adrien didn’t know whether to feel amused or embarrassed. He eventually decided on both and gave the passersby apologetic smiles when they’d look at him. God, he loved his friends.

He looked back at Alix and saw that she was typing in a phone number in her device now and put it quickly on speaker once she pressed the green telephone button. She held her phone loosely in her hand right in front of her lips and rose her eyebrows at Adrien when she met his gaze. She was giving him this sort of look as if he understood what she was doing but he really didn’t, so he just smiled back, unsure.

After a few rings the person finally picked up and the recognizable voice rang through.

“Yes, Alix?” Max said, not even bothering with a greeting.

Alix sighed dramatically to emphasize her frustration.

“Your best friend is being annoying.”

“He is your best friend too, you know.”

“As of right now he isn’t. Until I get my food, Kim is officially cancelled.”

“Alix, you cannot just cancel someone. That is logically impossible.”

Alix scowled at her phone as if Max could see her and Adrien leaned back against the seat, resting his hands on his thighs.

“Max, do you want to be cancelled as well?”

There was silence for a few seconds and Adrien could hear Nino laughing from a few feet away from them.

“…No.” He responded.

Alix smiled victoriously.

“Good answer. So, do me a favor and talk to Kim for me so I can get dinner.”

“Is he still trying to frighten those pigeons?”

Adrien cocked an eyebrow, wondering how Max could’ve possibly known that. But then realized that Nino probably sent him snaps as expected.

“Yes. Yes, he is.”

Max groaned through the line and even though he wasn’t there, Adrien imagined that the boy was adjusting his glasses like he always had when he seemed frustrated. He always moved them closer to his forehead even when it wasn’t necessary.

“Put him on.”

“Gladly.”

Alix then lowered her phone on her lap and cupped her mouth, taking in a deep breath and screaming for Nino to go over to them.

Nino jumped and almost dropped his phone.

“What the fuck, Alix. I’m right over here. Geez!”

Alix shrugged and handed over her device to him once he reached them. He was rubbing his ears back and forth as if Alix had just burnt them with her voice.

“Give this to Kim. Max is gonna tell him how stupid he’s being.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” Max defended. “I’m going to simply explain how it is surely impossible for Kim to be a slime monster. Since our bodies are not entirely made from mucus and our saliva-“

“Gross, Max. Save the lecture for, Kim alright?” Nino interrupted, rolling his eyes at Alix before finally turning himself around to return to his area from before.

“Drag him, Max!” She yelled lastly in encouragement.

Adrien snorted, and she finally gave him her attention again.

“So, where do you want to eat? I was thinking pizza.”

“Do you think Max is actually gonna stop him?”

“Yeah, totally.”

They both glanced over at Kim who was now seated on the ground, his left hand holding her phone and his right brushing through his quiff. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked like he was listening closely to whatever Max was telling him.

“You see that,” she started again. Her small hand motioning towards her best friend. “Max is the only one that can do it.”

“Do what? Get Kim to listen? What about Chloe?”

She shook her head and smiled fondly at her friends.

“Chloe gets him to listen. But that’s because he’s intimidated by her and is still lowkey crushing on her. But Max gets him to calm down.”

She whispered the last part like it was a secret between them, and Adrien scooted himself closer to her, so their small bubble seemed more private. People have never really trusted him with secrets before, and even though her words didn’t seem super significant, it seemed to be important to Alix so therefore, it was now important to him.

“And why is that?” He muttered.

“Isn’t it obvious? Look at his face, dude.”

Adrien tilted his head slightly in confusion before obliging. Kim was giggling now, freaking giggling, and his eyes were staring directly at the phone as if he was searching for a physical reaction from someone. Nino looked uninterested standing beside them, instead looking as if he was waiting for their call to end as he was scrolling through his phone.

“Kim’s crushing on Max? I thought he liked Chloe?”

Alix shrugged.

“Dude likes both I guess. But don’t tell anyone, not even Kim. I don’t think he realizes yet.”

“That he likes, Max?”

“Bingo.”

“Hmm.” Adrien never really noticed before. He knew that Kim and Max were close, practically attached to the hip, but he never really looked deeper than that. He wondered if Kim always looked at Max the way he was looking at Alix’s phone at that moment. Adrien never even knew that someone could reveal so much with their eyes before. Sure, he’d read it before in fics and had even written about loving gazes in his own story, but he never actually saw it in person. It was interesting to say the least.

He was starting to get curious.

“I didn’t even notice until you pointed it out. How could you tell?” He asked his friend.

She pushed a strand of her pink hair behind her ear. It seemed to have been bothering her for a while.

“I’m with them almost all the time. I can tell when they’re acting different.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded.

“Same thing happened with Ivan. Kid had been far gone for Mylene since last year and he never told us. But Kim and I could both just tell. We were even betting when he’d finally break and ask her out.”

“Who won the bet?”

“Kim, but that’s because he was an ass and kept pushing Ivan even though we agreed not to do it. It wasn’t cool of him.”

Adrien nodded in agreement, remembering how Stoneheart was created in the first place. It wasn’t nice what Kim did to Ivan, no matter his intentions, but he still couldn’t help but be a bit thankful for what had happened. Because of Kim that day, he got to become Chat Noir. He got to have another life that gave him freedom.

He got to meet Ladybug.

“But yeah. People are pretty easy to understand, man. You just gotta be more observant.”

Alix placed her right arm behind her and dangled it over the backside of the bench to get herself more comfortable. Adrien was still curious, and the wind was starting to pick up.

“So, is there anyone else in the class?”

She glanced over at him, confused.

“Like anyone else that you think is crushing on someone?”

Adrien knew that it wasn’t really any of his business. But he couldn’t help himself. The conversation was interesting, Alix seemed to be okay with it, and Adrien loved to learn stuff about his classmates, no matter what that stuff was, so he didn’t think that his question was too intrusive. Alix inspected their surroundings quickly, as if to make sure that the coast was clear, before she leaned herself closer to the boy. The two of them huddled together like a football team talking about their strategies before a game.

“Okay, so I have some theories.”

“Oh?”

She nodded.

“First, Rose and Juleka. They’re so far gone for each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if they walked into class on Monday holding hands.”

Adrien nodded back. He could definitely see that happening. Those two were always together.

“Second, Nathanael. Poor guy is hung up on someone again and isn’t doing anything about it.”

“He told you?”

She shook her head.

“No, but he’s starting to draw in his sketchbook again during class with that same old dumb, hopeless, look on his face.”

“Same old?”

“Yeah, the one he used to give Marinette when she wasn’t looking. That boy pines hard and it’s kind of sad. Wish I could give him a push.”

Adrien’s stomach began to feel weird at the sound of Marinette’s name and he quickly ignored it. It was an unpleasant feeling. The similar kind he’d feel when Plagg would place aged camembert in front of his face and force him to smell it.

Weird.

“Do you think he still likes Marinette?”

Her lips formed into a thoughtful frown for a moment as she hummed.

“I’m not sure actually. We’re not really close, so I don’t know if he’s completely over her or not. He’s been kind of avoiding her since the 'incident' anyway. So, I don’t know if that’s because he’s still embarrassed or because he’s torturing himself.”

“Huh.”

“Yup. Now onto my third theory.” Adrien turned his body more towards the girl, giving her his full attention.

“Alya.”

He rose his eyebrows, trying to stop himself from glancing over at Nino.

“You think she likes Nino, right?” He whispered very lowly, his voice as soft as the blue scarf around his neck.

Her eyes brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically - the two of them chuckled loudly before Alix shushed him.

“You’re his best friend. He tells you everything, right? Is the dude interested?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation. Nino had yet to announce that he was, but like Kim with Max, it was just very obvious. Nino and Alya were trapped in a cage for a whole afternoon and he wouldn’t stop gushing about how cool she was and about all the things that they surprisingly had in common for days. His friend looked over the moon for a while and even confessed that he no longer was interested in Marinette romantically after only being locked with the reporter for a few hours. There had to have been sparks between them and Adrien really thought that Nino was thinking the same thing. Though that all changed when one morning Nino looked all happy and flustered waving at Alya before sitting down and the next refused to even look at her, frowning the rest of the week. He still hadn’t told Adrien what happened, and Adrien thought that he probably never would.

They seem to be on friendly terms again, but the atmosphere did always hold a bit of unresolved tension when they were together.

“I think he is? He thinks she’s attractive. But that’s all I really know.”

“Hmmmm. I’ll do more observations this week and update you on my findings.”

“Alright.” Adrien laughed. “So, any others that you’ve been speculating about?”

“Yup! One more. Been saving the best for last.”

“Really?”

“The most obvious one. I’m actually a little surprised that you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and began to think about who she could possibly mean. She already talked about Kim, Rose, Juleka, Ivan, Nathanael, Alya, and Nino. So, who else was there? Mylene was off the table since her and Ivan were already a couple. Sabrina admired Chloe, but it didn’t seem like it was anything more than that. And Chloe didn’t really like people in general, so he thought that he would’ve known if she was crushing on someone. She was very open with her feelings and thoughts on others and he felt that she definitely would’ve let him know. So it couldn't have been her.

Besides, Adrien didn't think Alix would care enough to tell him or anyone anyway if it was about Chloe.

“Is it Max? Does he like Kim?”

She snorted.

“That’s a story for another day. But yeah, I didn’t mean him. Come on dude. You gotta know.”

“I’m sorry. But I really don’t.”

“Wow, Adrien and I thought Nino was blind.” She chuckled, and his lips formed into a small pout. He almost crossed his arms over his chest, but Alix stopped him with a small smack to his shoulder. “Just messing with you dude. But I was talking about Marinette. Thought she was a part of your other squad.”

“I mean I guess she is? I only really hang out with her when Nino and Alya invite m- wait a second.” Adrien’s eyes widened in realization as he replayed Alix’s words in his head. He sat himself up completely - his shoulders tensed. “Marinette…is crushing on someone?”

Alix nodded.

“Definitely. The signs are all there.” “Signs?”

“You know the stammering, the constant blushing, the extra clumsiness. Chick’s got it baaaad.”

“I thought she always did that?”

“Marinette? Yeah, right. I mean she used to be a little scared of Chloe before this year. But other than that, the girl’s a beast. She could walk up to anyone, punch them in the face, and I bet they’d thank her.”

“Ah.”

So, Marinette liked someone. Well that explained why she’d been acting so nervous around him. He probably knew the person and she was worried that he would find out and tell them. I mean he was still seen as the new kid by some, maybe Marinette was a part of those few and still didn’t trust him yet.

That possibility got him feeling a little down.

He wondered who she liked. They were probably wonderful, maybe even as amazing as Marinette.

“Do you know who it is? Who she likes?”

Again, it wasn’t any of his business. But maybe if he could find out who it was he could reassure Marinette that he wouldn’t tell a soul and maybe even be her wingman. Maybe they could really start being friends as his civilian self then. Maybe he could even help Marinette be with them.

Adrien’s stomach turned unpleasantly again at the last thought. He began to wonder if he had eaten anything bad earlier that day. The feeling, however, didn’t seem to linger so he let it go.

“Not a clue. Though, it’s gotta be someone at the school.”

“Yeah,” He started shuffling his feet a little against the cement floor. “It’s a possibility.”

Alix quickly stood up once she saw Kim and Nino walking over to them, a large charismatic smile on his face with her phone in his hand.

“Ready to go?”

“About time. Yeah, I’m ready!”

Alix started talking about several pizza places nearby that they could go to. And the others joined in on the conversation, suggesting things here-and-there. Adrien zoned out after a few seconds and didn’t hear much of the rest.

Who does she like?

“Adrien!”

He glanced up and saw three sets of eyes on him. He was still sitting down so he got himself up, his hands going straight to the inside of his pockets.

“Sorry, I…um,” He cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Pizza sounds good.”

“My, my, my,” The akumatized victim began, her hands clapping slowly, almost mockingly. “Color me impressed. I didn’t think you two would find me so quickly. Hawkmoth did inform me that you were both pretty tactical. Maybe I should’ve taken him more seriously.”

“Hawkmoth is a psychopathic manipulator that takes advantage of people’s emotions.” Ladybug said. Adrien could feel the passion in her voice right to his bones. She was trying to reason with the victim as she always had so she could avoid fighting them. Even though it never worked, Chat respected and admired how she always continued to try anyway. “Simone, you’re a brilliant athlete with so much potential and talent. Don’t let that villain use you like this.”

They were fighting a famous marathon runner that got second place that morning. Her villain name was Bolt and she had the power of super speed. It took them quite a while to actually locate her since she was so fast, but they eventually decided to check Le Grand Paris since all the runners were staying there and found her on the roof with all the victims tied up around the pool.

Her smile vanished, and her eyes widened tremendously. Chat for a second thought that maybe this time would be different, that maybe his Lady would actually help someone without them having to resort to violence. But then that purple butterfly appeared once more, silent and intimidating, and Bolt was muttering something to it. And then the symbol faded away and Bolt formed fists at her side. Chat imagined that her knuckles were probably white under her thick black gloves.

“You do make a good point, Ladybug.” She growled. “I am a brilliant athlete and I do have talent. And that’s why I should’ve won. But that didn’t happen. And so, before I can fix that, I need you and your little stray to give me something that doesn’t belong to you!”

Chat and Ladybug noticed a while ago that she was still wearing her second-place medal, except now it had a lightning bolt engraved in the middle. They both suspected that the purple butterfly was hiding in there. They hoped they were right. They hoped they would be able to snatch it.

She started running and both Chat and his partner leaped into the air to dodge her headbutt. He could’ve sworn that his feet grazed the top of her head even though it would’ve been impossible for a normal human to have gotten to him that fast from her distance a few seconds prior. But she was also temporarily no longer a normal human, so that was frustrating.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” Bolt yelled, turning around and staring them both down like a raging bull. She may not have had supersonic speed, but she was damn near close to having it. In a blink of an eye, before he could even react, Chat felt a punch to his jaw. His eyes closed on impact and before he or anyone else knew it, Bolt kneed him in his stomach and lifted him up from the ground by the end of his belt. She twirled him around like a rag doll and his head felt like a jar of shaken marbles. He would’ve vomited if the action would’ve gone any longer, but luckily, Ladybug used that opportunity to tie her yo-yo around the middle-aged woman and left her immobile for a while.

Chat quickly extended his baton once he was in the air to lower himself to the ground with ease. He immediately dropped to his knees to allow his mind to rest and return to normal before slowly getting himself back up to return to his lady who looked to have her hands full. Bolt was still standing, however, her whole body from her feet to her chest were wrapped with the infinite seeming length of Ladybug’s yo-yo string. The heroine went to reach for her medal.

Adrien started to run again.

Bolt began to laugh once Chat approached them and the tied-up victims screamed out words in unison that neither of the heroes understood. It all sounded like an incoherent, jumbled up mess and the boy knew that once this was all over he was going to have to take some kind of medicine for his growing headache.

“You truly believe that thread can restrain me? How insulting.”

Chat felt himself gasp at the sudden sight before him, his eyes trailing back-and-forth from the woman to Ladybug’s hands that were trying so hard to hold onto the string as she began to vibrate. Freaking vibrate. Bolt was practically pulsating her whole body to such an extent that she looked like she had several clones of herself moving along with her actions at a fast, astonishing rate. And then her body somehow went through the string as if she had no physical body and she was free, snickering in a sinister manner that gave the boy goosebumps all throughout his forearms and neck.

He couldn’t believe what he just saw. How in the hell were they going to beat her?

Ladybug seemed to be as astounded by the situation as well since she turned to look at Chat with confusion and shock in her eyes, her lips separated.

Chat just shrugged and said, “Well that did knot go as planned.”

She narrowed her eyes and refused to respond until Bolt unexpectedly grabbed her by the neck, and pinned his partner to the ground. The thud powerfully echoed throughout their surroundings. Chat felt his heart thump loudly in his chest and was frozen in place.

“I’ve got you now, bug,” Ladybug’s petite hands were on Bolt’s, attempting to free herself from the woman’s grasp but failing. Thankfully, she wasn’t choking the heroine, but she was still hurting her. “Any last words?”

The girl’s eyes shut tight as she wrapped her legs around Bolt’s waist. She still wasn’t getting anywhere, and Chat started to search around desperately.

“How cute, you’re still trying? Just admit defeat. You’re not going to win. So just accept second place.”

He sprinted to the victor of the marathon, a man named Elias from Germany, and used his claws to break through the wires. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he found out that he was the first person she captured.

“Sir, what are you-“

Chat shushed the older man and leaned his mouth closer to his ear.

“You’re going to have to trust me on this okay?”

He pulled back and saw how the foreigner didn’t reply, looking conflicted. But then, Chat continued to reassure him and after hearing yet another laugh from Bolt, Elias gulped and finally complied with a simple nod.

Chat nodded back and took a deep breath before picking the freed man up in his arms.

“Wow, Elias! Please tell me more about how deserving you were of your medal as I escape with you in my arms!”

Elias wrapped his arms tightly around Chat’s neck and glared up at him wide-eyed in disbelief.

“Do you want her to kill us?”

Chat didn’t respond, but instead began to run himself towards the staircase as loudly and as obnoxiously as he could. He forced out a mocking laugh as he turned his head to the side to see if Bolt was paying them any mind whatsoever. She wasn’t looking at them, but he could see her shoulders tense. They caught her attention.

Come on. Come on.

He cleared his throat and slowed his pace.

“Really, Elias?! Simone was that slow?! Wow! Your medal was practically given to you from the start then, huh?!”

All of the other victims that were still sitting a few feet away were groaning at his remarks - one woman that he did not recognize even cried. And Elias began to look over the hero’s shoulder in absolute fear. The man whimpered and before Chat could even ask what the matter was, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

He smiled.

“Would you like to repeat that?” The woman whispered in his ear in a dark tone, all sense of humor that was present before completely gone. Chat still didn’t turn around, instead he squeezed the bottom of Elias’ knee so he would look at him and mouthed ‘run’ before he finally lowered him to the ground.

His hand went to his baton. “I said your purr-ty slow.”

He turned around and quickly blocked a roundhouse kick with his staff. Bolt looked like she wanted to kill him, and Ladybug was nowhere to be found. She was probably hiding and formulating a plan. He continued to keep Bolt distracted to give his partner as much time as he could.

Block after block, dodge after dodge, insult after insult, Chat was doing it all and he was beginning to get exhausted. Bolt was too fast, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take another one of her unsuspecting punches. He was definitely going to bruise.

“I am the fastest being on the planet! No one can defeat me!” She hollered before jumping in the air and aiming for Chat’s stomach with a flying back kick. The hero barely dodged it with a back-flip - his knees almost gave out once he landed.

“With the exception of Elias, of course.” He responded through a forced cocky smirk, his breaths rapid and uneven. Where was his Lady?

“That’s it! Someone needs to teach you some manners, boy!”

Bolt stood in front of him, lowering her back, bending her legs, and stretching her fingers out before she started rubbing her hands together, faster than almost anything he’d ever seen. Her piercing dark green eyes never left him and when he saw sparks beginning to ignite around her gloves, he began to internally panic.

She could generate her own electricity.

Of course.

She was smiling again, and Chat wondered if she could read minds as well since she seemed to know exactly what he was thinking and exactly how nervous and even scared she was starting to make him. He furrowed his eyebrows and twirled his baton skillfully before pointing it in front of him.

Even if he didn’t stand a chance, he refused to give up.

And then he saw the easily recognizable red string tie around the woman’s ankle and she fell on all fours. The electricity disappeared once she lost focus.

“Sorry I’m late, Chaton. Was a little busy.”

His lady pointed to the now empty poolside and Chat finally noticed that all the victims were gone.

The smile that returned on his face was once again genuine and if it weren’t for the situation at hand he would’ve gone to his partner to pat her on the shoulder. But instead, he nodded, and they prepared themselves for Bolt’s vibrating magic trick. However, it never came since instead she rubbed her hands together yet again to spark her gloves up, placing the flames against the string to free herself.

Ladybug’s eyes widened in surprise and she glanced over at Chat.

“Well, that’s…shocking.”

The feline couldn’t help himself, he placed his hand over his heart and sighed lovingly.

“My Lady.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes quickly with a small smile on her face before jumping into the air to dodge one of Bolt’s electric punches. The two then began to coordinate their moves as they attempted to somehow snatch the untouched medal that was still around her neck. Even though they were not quite successful, they were at least notably tiring her out since the sparks around her were beginning to weaken and her speed was beginning to falter quite considerably.

Bolt seemed to be noticing this as well since she suddenly walked herself over to the edge of the building and closed her hands into tight fists, the sparks disappearing. She was breathing heavily, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath. For a second Chat thought that she might have actually given herself up.

But then that smile of hers returned and she saluted them before jumping off the building.

Chat felt his heart leap out of his throat and Ladybug gasped. Ladybug never gasped.

They both ran to the edge where the woman was seconds before and looked over at the street below them, the two of them hoping that she was okay.

“Do you see her?!” He yelled, his voice almost cracking from trepidation.

The street was empty and there seemed to be nobody within eye-view of the area. He was both relieved and concerned. He was glad that Bolt didn’t actually injure or kill herself, but now the fear was different. Now he felt as if a large poisonous spider that he just saw that was beside him went missing in less than a second. And he had to now find it in order to save himself from a possible deadly bite.

And Adrien really despised spiders.

“She must’ve fled somewhere. She may be searching for more energy.” Ladybug’s eyes were squinted. She looked to be searching for a very small needle in a very large haystack.

“More energy?! From what?!”

She sighed in frustration. She looked and sounded exhausted.

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t even know she could generate electricity till now! Who knows what else she could do.”

“Should we start scanning the area?”

“Yeah, I think for now that’s all we can do. She looked tired. So hopefully that means it’ll be easier to spot her now that she can’t run as fast any-“

They both immediately lost their footing and fell on their knees. Chat used his baton to pick both him and his lady up. The building was shaking and tilting to the left. He could hear the pool water from behind him beginning to splash around and loud laughter from below was surfacing.

Bolt was still there. But she was just on the street under their noses, destroying the building easily as if it were a toy. The atmosphere was getting warm, very warm, and smoke was beginning to surround them like fog. They had to leave.

“You think I could go down that easy?!” Bolt yelled from afar, her laughter ringing in their ears. She was throwing lightning bolts at the building, trying to burn it down, trying to kill them.

“We gotta go, my Lady. Now! The building is going down fast!” He reached for Ladybug’s hand, wanting to grab it so they could guide themselves off the premises together. “It seems like she’s waiting for us so we’re going to have to try to escape through the ba-my Lady?”

Ladybug smacked his hand away from her. Her knees were wobbling as she tried to regain balance, but at the rate the building was going, that was going to be impossible.

“She wants us to go down there. She’s waiting. If we take any longer she may leave again and destroy another building! The civilians are hiding. They’re going to be safe. This is between us now. We can stop her!”

He rested his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at him. He probably looked insane at the moment with his eyes widened and his hair strands sticking out everywhere, but he didn’t care. He had to talk some sense into his partner and fast.

“Listen, Ladybug. If we go down there she’s probably going to try to capture us or kill us. The smoke is thick and we wouldn’t be able to see properly. I say we head out back, if anything, hide for a bit to form a plan, and look for her then.”

She shook her head - her eyes looked over at the buildings across from them with great determination and intensity. She was thinking of something, something reckless and he knew it. Adrien almost fell again as the building tumbled even lower. His mind and his heart were both racing.

“We have to move!” Ladybug didn’t say anything, she just tightened her right hand into a fist and tied her yo-yo back around her waist.

“I’m sorry, Chat. But I guess I’m going to have to do this alone.”

“Wait, Wha-“ Before he could finish his sentence, before he could grab her, his partner jumped off the building. Her body disappeared into the smoke as if it were a thick cloud and Chat felt like he was going to vomit.

Why would she do that?! What do I do?! What do I do?!

Without another thought, he gripped his baton tighter than he ever had and jumped after her.

He was desperately searching for her, for a hint of red, a blue strand of hair, for anything. But instead, all he heard was laughter and all he saw were bursts of light being flung into the air like golden rods. He extended his staff so he could get himself towards them, thinking that was where his lady was. And luckily, he was right. He spotted one of her ribbons and saw that she was still diving through the vast darkness surrounding them. She was mumbling something under her breath, refusing to reach for her yo-yo. So, when he saw a bolt going towards her, he did what he had to and lunged for her, taking his partner in his arms and lowering the both of them to the ground as gently as he could. He fell on top of her when they landed, and he slowly rolled off. She was angry at him.

“What the heck, Chat?! I told you I was going to do this!”

“You think I was going to just let you die? Are you insane?!”

They were scowling at each other, but before the conversation could go any further, Chat got back on top of his partner and rolled them both away from falling rubble. It barely missed his ankle. He took a deep breath and coughed, feeling the electric smoke enter his lungs.

“We need to get out of here.” He said.

Ladybug pushed him off before they both got themselves up.

“Where is Bolt?”

“Hello?! Are you even listening to me?! We need to leave!”

“We need to find Bolt!”

They were nose-to-nose now and not in the way Chat had dreamed of many times before. They weren’t confessing their love to each other and he wasn’t about to lean in to kiss her. No, instead her brows were furrowed, Chat was practically snarling, and they were still in the middle of a battle that was looking to be more difficult to win as seconds went by.

“Bolt is gone! The building is falling, so she probably fled to a safe area!” Ladybug’s shoulders were still back and she was still trying to make herself seem intimidating, so Chat finally sighed and stepped further away from her.

“My lady,” He said, his tone much softer than before. “when you jumped I thought you were going to-“

He sniffled, and her expression eased immediately. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Just please, trust me on this one.”

She placed her own hand over one of his and didn’t push it away – she just let herself hold onto it. He didn’t know what to say so he waited for her. She sighed.

“Alright, kitty. Let’s go.”

They wound up hiding on the roof of some restaurant neither of them recognized and came up with a plan. They would look for Bolt again, Ladybug would finally call for her lucky charm, Chat would find an opportunity to cataclysm the ground as she ran so she would trip, they would steal her gloves and boots so she wouldn’t be able to generate electricity, Ladybug would use her lucky charm, and hopefully they would get her medal and save Paris.

Chat was still angry and hurt by his partner and her actions from earlier and still wanted to speak to her about them, but he knew that it wasn’t the right time. That he’d have to wait till they were done for the day to be able to do so. Chat wasn’t sure if he would even have any energy left in him to have the conversation. His mind and his muscles felt like jelly and he was both mentally and physically drained and he knew that his Lady wasn’t feeling any better. He shrugged the situation off momentarily, and ran with the heroine.

After a few minutes of searching around the city, they found Bolt again. Or well, she found them. The purple butterfly outline was hovering over her face once more and Chat assumed that Hawkmoth probably demanded her to look for them so she could acquire their miraculouses.

As soon as she reached them, they didn’t hesitate. They went full force with their plan and surprisingly were succeeding. Ladybug’s lucky charm this time was a banana and after a while of thinking, she finally decided to use it right after Chat had removed the woman’s gloves. She had attempted to get up and run off again, but Ladybug quickly removed the peel from the banana and threw it in front of the woman, causing her to fall once more and injure herself. Chat immediately went for her medal and tossed it to his Lady who crushed it with her hands. The dark insect was released and after she purified it and yelled, “Miraculous Ladybug!” while throwing the banana in the air, all the smoke and dark atmosphere began to clear. People slowly began to leave their shelters and homes and were cheering for the two exhausted heroes.

They simply waved and when they finally turned to each other, their happy expressions changed. Adrien walked himself closer to her and she didn’t step back nor forward, she just stood still and stared at him, waiting for his move. Her blue eyes didn't look as alive as they usually were. They looked different - darker, and weren't sparkling. Her hair was a mess with strands going wherever they pleased and Ladybug let them be. She looked very disheveled in general and Adrien had to stop himself from fixing one of her ribbons that was loosened.

He took a deep breath.

“We’re going to have to talk about what happened.” He said.

Her earrings beeped but she didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Why?”

She glanced at the ground and the grip on her yo-yo tightened.

“You’re not ready… God, I’m not even ready!”

“Ready for what?! Please,” he held up her chin so she could look at him. His action wasn't romantic or meant to be intimidating in any way. Instead It was urgent, pleading. He was so lost and confused and he just needed her to look at him. He needed her to see him. “Talk to me.”

People were surrounding them, taking pictures and videos of their little exchange, but he paid them no mind. His ring beeped.

“We’ll talk about it in patrol, okay? I…I gotta go.”

He lowered his hand and simply nodded before she started to walk off, getting her yo-yo ready to swing away. She stopped midway, however, and turned back.

“Good job by the way.” She said, smiling.

It didn’t reach her eyes.

“Yeah, you too.”

#Fanboy #miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #marichat #marichat fanfiction #marinette cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #adrinette #adrienette #ladrien

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ayyyez · 6 years

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Alright here it is, the first chapter of my new Mystic Messenger Fic titled ‘Predestined Stars’, will also be posting it on ao3!

Fandom: Mystic Messenger Work Title: Predestined Stars Chapter: 1 (An Insomniac’s Dream) Word Count: 2462 Relationships: 707/Luciel/Saeyoung Choi x MC / minor Jumin Han x MC Summary: Revolving around the idea of Reset Theory: MC has chosen Jumin, it's day 10 of the route and Saeyoung begins to have flashbacks to his route and his life with MC. Saeyoung discovers more each day only to realise the same thing might be happening to her. What does this mean for them?

It’s in the early hours of the morning, the point where night and dawn are blurred into a paradox of not quite late but not entirely early when Saeyoung stirs from his dream. The glow from his monitor, left open, reads 3:02am when he jumps awake, sending his ergonomically shaped computer chair backwards with a harsh squeak. His wheels lock once he grabs hold of the desk in front him, fingers digging into the smooth wood. Sweat drips down his temples, hair sticking to his forehead as he clutches his chest to feel his rapidly beating heart, each thump against his ribcage sending him back into the depths of the dream.

The dream hadn’t seemed long but it was enough to shake him to the core. Saeyoung dreamt of her at the cabin, the one in the woods no one but he and Vanderwood knew of, waking up next to him in bed. He carefully recalls the moments of the dream most clear. The bedroom had been small and clean, aside from the stray teacup on the side table on her side of the bed and odd garments tossed across the floor. It didn’t throw the room off balance but it was a small indication, like a crease in the table cloth, that it was lived in. The room was barely furnished, packing only the essentials and saturated in white cloth that glowed in the morning sunlight. MC had moaned softly and squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again; she had rolled herself over to face him, giving a warm smile. They had both been naked, each littered in marks from the evening before; an intimate evening he knew but could not recall. Saeyoung swallows realising his throat is dry.

She looked childlike in the morning sunlight, innocently entangled in the white sheet as she shuffled her body closer to his. He had felt the warmth of her body as clear as day, touch as real as the hand against his chest now. Saeyoung had ghosted his fingers over her profile like it was second nature: over her forehead, down the cheek, over slightly parted lips, the dip of her chin, the side of her throat and down between her breasts to rest against her sternum. MC instinctively stirred, pushing into his touch with a sleepy sigh. Saeyoung smiled, his back settled against the headboard. He remembers wanting to stay there forever but reality had sat in the back of his mind like a reminder that finally pulled him to consciousness like a cruel punishment.

It was a curious dream, vivid, like recalling a recent memory but the contents too transcendent to earn the title of reality.

Saeyoung can’t deny the the intense feelings the dream brought on. He still feels the warm touch of her skin, soft against his hand, burning beneath his fingertips. He closes his eyes and clasps his left hand over the right, savouring the touch, drinking in the memory and burning it into the forefront of his mind.

‘God, is this what it is like to have a crush?’ Saeyoung asks himself, a comforting habit. ‘Why did my fantasy feel so real?’ He sits back craning his neck from side to side to relieve the tension built up from his unsavoury sleeping position.

Saeyoung sighs, using his feet to drag him closer to the desk then adjusts his glasses. Squinting from the intensity of the screen lighting, his eyes follow the last lines of code to pinpoint where he is up to in the hacking job.

‘Okay, let’s do this,’ he says to himself, cracking his knuckles dramatically. ‘707 ready for action.’ The last part was half hearted but it’s necessary to get through the morning.

It’s isn’t long before the room fills with speedy typing, each tap of the keys drowns out the thoughts spinning through his mind. It’s hopeless though, he can’t stop thinking about the dream; the image of MC so in love with him and their naked limbs tangled together. The idea no longer seems a miracle, visually evident through the harboured desires of his subconscious pushing into his dreams.

‘It was only a dream right?’ He asks himself, considering the possibilities. ‘Yes, of course it was.’ Saeyoung shakes his head and brings his hands to hover over the keyboard, pushing himself to keep working but they don’t cooperate, fingers refusing to type.

There’s only her on his mind. Not codes or binary or the job he is supposed to crack by daybreak. He is staring into her wide and expressive eyes while they lie in that bed. All he thinks of his MC. Her, in the morning saturated in sunlight and hair disheveled across the white pillow, tips tickling his arm. Her, pressing a kiss to his nose, forehead, each cheek then with a giggle, their intended destination: his lips. Saeyoung can feel them now, brushing against his. There’s a sharp intake of breath and he presses his palm against his mouth, eyes widening at the images still clear.

Having vivid dreams was nothing new but once he woke the painstaking details normally faded and he was left alone with a hollow reality. But these memories did not fade; they remained clear, replaying in his mind like memories on a loop.

He can taste her on his lips; It’s a relatively sweet taste, green tea with traces of jasmine, something he brewed for her often, mixed with the undeniable taste of her. But how did he know that? Saeyoung hasn’t even met MC yet, only seen her through monitors and screens.

‘Argh,’ Saeyoung groans pressing his face into his palms. ‘What is wrong with me?’

It’s suddenly so much more difficult to breathe.

When MC first stumbled upon the chatroom, they were still so unaccustomed to each other and above everything so ingrained to be distrustful of the other’s words and movements. That was only over a week ago and now he is remembering moments that haven’t even happened.

Saeyoung attempts to pick apart the situation with logic circumventing the most obvious answer that remains at the forefront on his mind. His throat itches from within, something festering there like a darkness threatening to reach the surface. Emotions long buried beneath his sternum have finally found an exit, an opportunity to unleash.

Before he knows what he is doing, his phone is in his hand with RFA app open, chat room entered, eyes scanning for the name that is stuck on his mind.

‘I wonder what you are up too at this time of night.’

The image of her entangled with Jumin forces it’s way into his mind, an involuntary reflex, his imagination haunting him. He visibly shudders at the the thought, remembering that MC had chosen Jumin not him. Of course she did, Jumin changed for her and she understood him. Fate had decided and there is nothing Saeyoung can do about it.

He is suddenly at ease when he realises that she returned to Rika’s apartment earlier in the evening. They weren’t together, at least until the party.

‘I really need to sleep in a bed, I’m too delusional.’ He can hear Vanderwood’s reply, You really need to finish this job and you’ve always been delusional.

Saeyoung chuckles, pushing himself up out of his chair to walk over to the small fridge at the end of his desk. A bright light shines as he opens the door, eyes searching for a can of PHD Pepper, his right hand searching above blindly for a packet of honey buddha chips. When both hands find what they seek he stands up and kicks the fridge door closed returning to the comfort of his computer chair.

The can opens with a hiss and Saeyoung downs a few decent gulps before he has time to dispute the action of the bubbling drink burning down his throat. He swallows it with a pronounced ‘ahhh’ and wipes his mouth against the back of his jacket sleeve.

Saeyoung had resigned himself to the fact that the fantasies were a one time thing only, even if he couldn’t quite convince himself that he would stop if MC enticed him into an intimate situation in real life. His cheeks burn when his mind wanders to countless scenarios and possibilities, all entailing farfetched ways to simply be with her. The urge to recoil is there, almost tangible in how he tenses up at the questionable thoughts. Saeyoung takes another sip and mutters to himself softly. ‘I need to get back to work.’

It’s when he places the can down with a thud that he makes the promise to stop getting distracted about trivial things. He works for the agency and can’t get caught up in caring about others. And besides, MC chose Jumin and they were in love. The situation was already sorted and all he had to do was play along.

It’s been over a week now and they’ve fallen into a routine that would be selfish to unbalance. He missed his chance. The only thing left for him to do was his duties. Resigning himself to the fact that his imagination was nothing more than a distraction, his fingers began hammering against the keys of his keyboard continuing with the job.

The minutes rolled by like hours, Saeyoung’s upper lip flinching each time his concentration dared to break. Anyone looking at him may not notice his distraction, his fingers still taping away but he knew it was at least half the speed he’s capable of on a bad day. The internal struggle within him burns for release—for satisfaction.

With a groan he reaches for his drink, downing the last drops of PHD Pepper. He considers taking a walk, to go outside and look up at the night sky. The stars would be visible by now and the forecast predicted a clear night.

‘I just want to give them all to you, Seven.’ An echo in his mind.

The can crushes in his hand.

‘What was that?’ He asks, more the room than himself. He forces his eyes shut and releases the crushed can, hearing the aluminium bounce onto the floor.

Did he just experience another…fantasy? It seemed too real, the voice too tangible to be a fabrication of his subconscious. An image flashed to the forefront of his mind of a phone call long forgotten, him analysing an email and her entertaining his fancies.

‘All of the…stars?’

Saeyoung shook his head furiously, dispelling all theories and circumvented his mind to a logical outcome. It was simply impossible, something that had indeed happened but that he perhaps had forgotten in his sleep deprived state. It’d been a long week.

Two violent buzzes vibrate through the desk causing him to jump. He blinks a few times before his eyes lock onto the culprit, realising he received a message; a message from MC. He observes the notification and wonders what would come out of explaining to MC what was going on with him. Saeyoung is afraid that by even giving an inkling of his thoughts, his inner most desires, she would somehow lose some of her brightness, wilting like a sunflower deprived of sun. He has already taken so much from her and Jumin so everything he has to give would never amount to the unattainable enough compared to what they offered each other. So he reluctantly replies, with his usual 707 composure, a facade he will maintain for her.

‘Maybe you’re just tired, you should rest from time to time.’ Her voice penetrating his mind again.

Saeyoung buries his face in his hands and groans. ‘I’m starting to lose it.’ The emotions are taking over now, refusing to stay buried. ‘I’ve already lost it’

His brows furrow together, an involuntary reflex with the overwhelming nature of everything he is feeling. He’s left breathless, winded but all he can do is laugh; At the ridiculousness of the situation, his dwindling sanity and his hopeless control over emotions.

Saeyoung’s laughing only grows when he feels his phone buzzing in his hand, MC’s icon flashing in front of his eyes. He stops for a hairsplitting second, concentrating on his thumb running across the smooth screen of his phone, dangerously close to the answer button. The laughing intensifies as he brushes over it, bringing the phone to his ear, tears already welling in his eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ Comes her voice on the other end. It’s exactly as he recalled from his dreams—the memories of a forgotten life.

‘No, I’m not…’ there’s more laughing from him, ‘but you don’t care about me.’ He hesitates, the urge to retreat palpable but with his emotions reeling there’s nothing to stop him. ‘You only care about Jumin.’ He says matter-of-factly. ‘I’m nothing. My heart’s crumbled into breadcrumbs. So sad, my poor breadcrumbs, I’ll eat you up…Meet your friends inside my stomach.’ There’s nothing to hold back his laughing now, he’s crossed the invisible line he set himself earlier in a matter of seconds.

There’s only breathing from her end, he can practically feel her concern, hear the light beginning to waiver because of him. No, he won’t let that happen.

‘I heard eating sweets helps when you feel like this.’ He’s trying to maintain the 707 persona but with more laughter comes even more pain. ‘No…’ he whispers. ‘Ugh a tear just feel from my eyes.’ He reaches out to touch the tear, sweeping it with his finger and pulling it down to observe. His brow creases, his lip trembles and his resolve shatters.

‘What’s wrong with me? Am I bipolar or something?’ An involuntary thought pops into his head, memories of his brother and mother and the constant arguments.

‘Seven…’ Her voice is soft and wavering. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

He knows he needs to stop now.

‘I think my breadcrumb friends have something to say. I’m gonna go talk with my breadcrumbs for a bit.’ The hand holding his phone is trembling. ‘Bye.’

He drops his phone against the desk after hitting the end call button. The tears are streaming down his face, cheeks flushed and lips trembling. In one swift motion he pulls his glasses off and drops his head into his arm, burying it there against the desk.

Saeyoung’s whole body is shaking now, the tears hot and wet in his eyes falling harder than ever. His mind whispers, Don’t do it. Don’t do this…it doesn’t matter, it’s not real. But it is futile. ‘I don’t understand!’ he screams against his jacket sleeve, letting his emotions get the best of him. ‘If this is all real then why didn’t she choose me?’

It’s a question he asked himself even before the dream.

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cuthian · 4 years

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Starting Over Chapter Five

Hi guys!

This chapter marks the start of the Asgard chapters :-) Should you prefer to skip over this portion of the story (which focuses briefly on Becca and Thor's relationship and its development), you can read up until Becca drags Steve out of the room, and then skip to the end notes, where I'll summarize the events for you, so you'll be able to follow along.

Thanks for reading!

Love, Annaelle

Chapter Five

PEPPER POTTS PREGNANT?

Speculation is rampant that the CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts, who is best known for her progressive business style and activism for the LGBTQIA+ community, is expecting a baby with long-time partners James Rhodes and Tony Stark. The rumors arose when Potts was spotted heading into a private gynecology clinic a few days ago, with what appeared to be “What To Expect When You’re Expecting” sticking out of the top of her purse.

Another source, reportedly close to Potts and her family, revealed that during the last dinner organized by Stark Industries, Potts toasted with a glass of sparkling water rather than her customary glass of white wine, and named this as a “highly unusual occurrence”.

Stark Industries’ rep told journalists, “I am not authorized to comment on Ms. Potts’ personal life,”...and therefore neither confirmed nor denied the rumors. This, in combination with complete radio silence from Stark, Potts and Rhodes themselves, has caused several stories about the alleged pregnancy to pop up across various social media sites and tabloids during the past 48 hours.

With all residents of the Avengers Tower remaining silent on the subject, we’ll have to wait and see if that baby book and the so-called high-profile wine-avoidance are the key clues that ultimately lead to the hashtag “Iron Baby” being confirmed as a reality.

—Sharnaz Shahid, “Pepper Potts Pregnant?”, Hello! Online, November 27th, 2015

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Personal floor Of Steve Rogers, Becca Barnes and Thor, Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York, U.S.A.

November 28th, 2015 – 9:19 AM

Steve

“Hey,” Steve smiled at Sam when the video call connected, doing his best to not look like he had been up half the night because of nightmares, because Sam would know and he would try to make Steve talk about it, and Steve was not in the mood to talk about seeing the love of his life fall off the side of a train and down a cliff because Steve hadn’t been fast enough to catch him with his current possibly-maybe-kind of boyfriend/friend.

“Hi,” Sam grinned. “How’s the Big Apple treating you?”

“Not bad,” Steve hummed, lifting his hand and wiggling it side to side. “I mean, there’s already been a party, Tony got me drunk, I made out with Thor, Pepper’s pregnant, so… You know, busy.”

“Shit,” Sam laughed, leaning back in his chair with a soft groan and the creak of metal springs. “I don’t even know where to start unpacking all of that.” Steve chuckled and leaned back into the couch too, leaning one foot up against Tony’s coffee table. He’d talked to Sam on video chat most days since they’d moved back to New York, and they’d texted on the days they hadn’t been able to free up enough private time for a video call.

They’d had a lot of things to arrange when they’d moved back here—there had been lengthy negotiations with S.H.I.E.L.D. to transfer them back from their daily duties at the Triskelion to Avenger-only missions, and even lengthier negotiations with Tony about moving back to the Tower for the time being rather than back to Becca’s apartment—and Steve hated just how busy they’d been.

He also sort of hated how… undecided he and Sam had left things.

They weren’t romantically involved—not really, and the few times they’d made out during movie night didn’t count—but they weresomething, and Steve moving back to another city probably wasn’t going to help them figure out just what that was.

They were friends, first and foremost, and Steve didn’t want to screw that up.

He liked having a friend that he hadn’t met while punching aliens and Nazis.

It was a refreshing change.

“You made out with Thor again?” Sam finally said, a shit-eating grin on his lips, and Steve groaned, because he shouldn’t have said that, and he still couldn’t quite believe Thor had done that, and that he’d been so casual about it, and shook his head.

“It wasn’t—it was a dare,” he insisted, barely resisting the urge to cover his face to hide just how hard he was blushing. It shouldn’t be a big deal, because he’d made out with Thor before, much more intimately than this time, and Thor was his friend, and he was dating Becca, but…

Thor was hot and Steve was weak and gay.

He’d known Thor for literal years, and considered him to be one of his best friends on this side of the ice, but Steve was just a man, and he still went a little weak in the knees too when Thor wandered out of the shower or the gym in nothing but a towel or—barely decent—shorts.

“Uh-huh,” Sam hummed, looking entirely unimpressed with Steve’s—weak—defense. “Whatever you say, pretty boy. You make a habit of making out with your friends?”

Steve grumbled wordlessly and pouted.

Sam laughed, shaking his head in exasperation. “Come on, Rogers,” he grinned. “You’re allowed to admit you liked it when the God of Thunder kissed you.”

“Except he’s also my best friend’s boyfriend,” Steve pointed out.

Sam nodded. “I see your point.”

Steve grunted and shook his head. “How’re things over there?”

Sam, thankfully, accepted the change in topic and regaled Steve with tales of his colleagues’ shenanigans, and Steve relaxed, laughing in the right places and interjecting where necessary.

He enjoyed how… normal the conversation was.

He enjoyed how simple and easy it was.

He enjoyed that talking to Sam wasn’t hard, like it was with the others, sometimes.

“Steve, can you help me find the—” Steve sighed at Becca when she squealed, dropping whatever she’d been holding and launching herself onto the couch beside Steve, one knee knocking into his back and the other very nearly kneeing him someplace he would much rather keep intact. “Steve,” she said sternly, “you didn’t tell me you were talking to your boyfriend.”

She shot a brilliant—deceptively nice—smile Sam’s way. “Hi Sam.”

“Hey Barnes,” Sam smirked.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Becs,” Steve sighed, because they’d been over this a million times already, and he knew she was teasing, but he… he didn’t want to rub his indecision about their relationship in Sam’s face either. He didn’t mind when she was teasing him—he would give as good as he got, it’s how they worked—but he wasn’t sure he liked it when she did it in front of Sam.

“Aw,” Becca pouted, leaning on Steve’s shoulder dramatically. “Why not? He’s cute.”

Sam cackled, and Steve abruptly remembered the other reason Becca and Sam needed to remain separated at all costs.

They were horrible little shits and they ganged up on him every time.

“Yeah, Rogers,” Sam grinned, leaning closer to the camera and smirking at Steve in a way that did things to Steve. “Why not? You heard the lady. I’m cute. You afraid you can’t handle my glorious ass?”

Steve snorted and Becca fucking cackled. “Nah,” Steve smirked. “You ain’t shit, Wilson. I can handle it. You, on the other hand…” he raised his eyebrow suggestively, copying the way Bucky used to waggle his eyebrows when he wanted something, because he knew it worked, damn it.

Becca nodded sagely beside him. “It is America’s ass, you know. It’s what all the tabloids are saying.”

“Oh, well, if the tabloids are saying so,” Sam said sarcastically.

“You two are horrible,” Steve told Becca and Sam seriously, falling back into the couch with a pout. “I vote all discussions about my ass get vacated immediately.”

“Overruled,” Becca said gleefully, and Sam yelled, “Nope!”

Steve glared at her, feeling abjectly horrified and a little betrayed. Becca just shrugged. “You kissed my boyfriend, hotshot. I get a free pass.”

Sam cackled again and Steve flushed. “He kissed me,” he argued ineffectively. “It was a dare!”

Sam and Becca just dissolved into giggles and Steve shook his head exasperatedly. He looked up at the screen in time to catch Sam smiling at him, fond and amused, and it wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d thought it would be to look at the friend he’d tried to date and might try to date again in the future and discuss the other friend that he’d accidentally made out with again.

“Okay,” Becca said when they’d sobered up a little, leaning forward to grin at Sam. “Sorry to cut this short, lover boy, but I’m leaving in like four hours, and I need Steve to help me get ready.”

“I’ll allow it,” Sam nodded graciously. “I need to get to my mama’s Sunday dinner anyway.” He raised an eyebrow at Steve and smirked. “You know, if the paparazzi will leave my fine black ass be.” Becca cackled and Steve shook his head, pulling a pillow onto his lap and face planting into it.

He didn’t know why he bothered.

“I hate you,” he told the pillow.

“Aw, sugar,” Becca drawled. “You break my heart.”

Sam laughed, and Steve smiled into his pillow. “Have fun in Asgard,” Sam told Becca, “Tell that dramatic puppy to call me back tomorrow.”

Steve looked up a little. “I ain’t dramatic,” he asserted.

“Sure,” Sam chuckled. “Call me later.”

He hung up before Steve could say anything else, and J.A.R.V.I.S. collapsed the holographic screen, leaving him and Becca in a now distressingly empty living room.

“Come on,” Becca told him. “I need your help picking what I’m bringing to Asgard.”

Steve frowned. “You leave in four hours.”

“I know,” Becca stressed. “That is why I need your help.”

Steve groaned. “You’re a disaster,” he said, but allowed Becca to tug him out of the room by his hand anyway. Becca made his sort-of-maybe-kind-of boyfriend hang up on him, so it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

As long as she didn’t make him help her pick lingerie again.

————————

EARTH APPOINTS FIRST AMBASSADOR FOR ASGARD

REBECCA BARNES JUNIOR SET TO DEPART TO ASGARD FOR FIRST DIPLOMATIC MISSION WITHIN SIX MONTHS.

NEW YORK — Rebecca Barnes, a career soldier and S.H.I.E.L.D. agent from Brooklyn, New York, has rubbed elbows with the U.S.A.’s rich and famous since childhood. As one of the only grandchildren to Dr. Rebecca Barnes Sr. and former state senator James Proctor, and Margaret “Peggy” Carter’s godchild, Barnes has been thrust into the spotlight from childhood on, when a picture of a one-year-old Rebecca Barnes toddling along with a teenaged Tony Stark’s hands holding her up was published in various tabloids and popular media outlets.

[...]made headlines again at twenty-two, when she was rescued by Tony Stark’s Iron Man from a six-month captivity by an unknown terrorist group, and again four years later for fighting alongside the original Avengers during the Battle of New York.

[...]Barnes, 29, may face her toughest and most public posting yet: as Earth and the Avengers’ first official ambassador to visit Asgard. [...]appointment is believed to be a response to the Prince of Asgard’s official position on Earth as Asgard’s ambassador. Skeptics have expressed doubts about Barnes’ qualifications for the position beyond her status as Thor of Asgard’s longtime romantic partner, but Barnes refuted said doubts in a short press conference shortly after her appointment.

“While I certainly may not appear the most qualified, I assure you no one else is more prepared to take on the role[...] I will seek to impart our values, our institutions and our thoughts on human rights to Asgard and its rulers, and I will implore them to maintain good relations between our planets.”

“[...] in a sense that diplomacy is by nature a long-term business, where one does not necessarily see goals being fulfilled from one day to the next,” Thor Odinson, Prince and Ambassador of Asgard said in response to being asked if he felt establishing diplomatic relations would improve Asgardian relations with some of Earth’s less receptive inhabitants.

—Adam Satariano, “The World’s First Ambassador to Asgard”, The New York Times, 13 May 2015

————————

Town Square, Idavoll, Asgard

November 28th, 2015 – 2:36 PM (Earth UCT+1)

Becca

Although Thor had been planning their trip to Asgard for months by now, Becca had to admit she hadn’t given a lot of thought to what Thor’s homeland would actually be like.

He had spoken of it plenty of times over the past few years, and had even aided Steve in sketching a few of his favorite places within the city and the palace. She knew, abstractly, what it looked like, and she knew that their societal structure was a lot more similar to 18th-century British high society than it was to 21st century American society.

Somehow, though, despite Thor referring to the city as ‘The Golden City’ more than once, she’d still expected it to be dull and gray; the streets muddy and wet, rats scurrying over the cobblestones as orphaned children and beggars sat in the gutter, pleading for scraps of food and coin. Her vision of Asgard, of a society similar to their 18th century one, had likely been colored by shitty Hollywood movies.

This though… this was not what she thought it would be.

The bustling liveliness of the city startled her, and there were splashes of color where she had envisioned only gray—small stalls that were laden with richly colored fabrics and jewels, merchants shouting over one another to gain their potential buyer’s attention, shockingly green ivy that climbed the façade of most houses, and people that bustled about, arms filled with purchases and bright smiles lingering on their lips. There were children playing in the corner of the square, near a small fountain, all dressed from head to toe in warm tunics and furs, yelling and laughing with a carefree air she couldn’t recall ever having seen before, not really.

It reminded her, oddly, more of the bazaars she’d seen in the Middle East than anything else.

She could see several narrow streets leading away from the square, all packed with merchants and people, and even a busker, singing at the top of his lungs about a fair maiden and a crude sailor.

“Woah,” she breathed, tightening her fingers in Thor’s sleeve, “this is…”

“Yes,” Thor offered her a broad smile, sweeping his hand in a gesture that encompassed the entire city square. “It is a glorious sight, isn’t it?”

She nodded, chancing a glance over her shoulder towards the attendants who had met them just outside of the Himinbjörg, waiting in a neat, orderly line on the rainbow bridge. She could feel their eyes on them constantly, and she could hear the silent judgement when she took Thor’s arm rather than walk a step behind him, as the lead attendant had clearly expected her to do.

Thor, thankfully, had shaken his head in dismissal when the man made to protest, and led her onto the bridge and into the city by his side.

“My father,” Thor began hesitantly, “has apparently deigned to organize a feast in our honor.” He didn’t sound too excited about the prospect, and she suspected this might be one of the less pleasant things he had warned her they would have to endure during their stay on Asgard.

He had told her that his father did not approve of their relationship, and that he would likely seek to make things as unpleasant as possible while they were there.

“Okay,” she nodded. “What does that mean? What do we have to do?”

Thor grinned, and pointed towards one of the colorful stalls at the far end of the square, where she could just barely see an elderly woman shuffling around as she helped the variety of people that halted at the stall to purchase something. “First, we outfit you with appropriate garments,” he explained. “My father undoubtedly waited until the very last moment to inform me of the feast in the hopes you would be forced to decline attending due to a lack of appropriate clothing.”

He grinned rakishly, uncharacteristically pleased to outwit his father, even in such a small, seemingly insignificant way. “Fortunately, Lady Aase should be able to aid us.”

She nodded, slightly apprehensive, but willingly let him guide her through the crowd—and if she grasped his arm a little tighter and shuffled a little closer to him than strictly necessary, that was no one’s business but hers. She was, after all, in a different land—on a different planet—and Thor was the only person around that she actually knew.

And though she was on the verge of panicking a little—because even after years of being back and living in New York goddamned City, she did not always do well with crowds—she trusted Thor.

Thor stopped in front of the stall, waiting patiently as Aase helped a young woman choose what appeared to be some kind of blue silk skirt. Becca fidgeted nervously as she eyed the variety of garments laid out on the table and in the open tent behind the stall.

“So…” she drawled nervously, rubbing her fingers across his arm, focusing on the feel of the fabric of his cloak between her fingers. “I’d have thought being the crown prince would give you access to personal seamstresses and the like. Any reason we’re here instead?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, “it does, but I fear they might seek to delay the process if my father told them to. Aase, on the other hand, cares very little for such politics. As long as you are kind to her, she will likely adopt you and outfit you with more clothes than you will ever be able to wear.” Thor shrugged and added, “She was often like a grandmother to us. Mother’s parents died long before we were born and father’s parents died in the First War with Jotunheim. She was kind to us when we were little.”

Her eyes widened as she returned her gaze to the lively elderly woman in the tent, slightly more nervous now that she knew what Thor’s connection to the woman was.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t prepared to meet his family and friends—it was the express purpose of this trip, after all—but that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it. The knowledge that his father didn’t approve of their relationship, and that he likely never would, regardless of how long they stayed together, ate at her more than she would ever admit out loud, even to Thor.

Especially to Thor.

She’d never thought she’d actually care about getting any parent’s approval so much, but here she was.

“Odinson, ye great big clodhopper,” the woman shouted when she had accepted a handful of coins from her final customer, hobbling out of the stall towards them. “Have ye finally deigned us worthy of visiting again, down ‘ere in the slumps?” Becca watched with no small amount of amusement as the old, wizened woman patted Thor’s cheek—her heart squeezing in fond exasperation when he bent forward so she could reach at all—chattering about how he’d been gone too long and she should whoop him for abandoning her all to her lonesome before she finally turned her attention to Becca.

“And this must be the reason why ye’ve abandoned Asgard in favor of Midgard of late?” the woman inquired shrewdly, eyeing Becca up and down carefully after she shoved Thor aside—and Becca resisted the urge to squirm beneath the woman’s gaze—before nodding with an approving smile.

“This is my Lady Rebecca,” Thor told her proudly.

“Very pretty,” Aase nodded. “Good childbearing hips. Ye’ll bear him strong children.” She patted Becca’s cheek and turned away before she could say anything to that, before she could even think about a denial—because she couldn’t, she was human, and even if she could, she didn’t think she wanted to.

“Ah, Aase,” Thor said, likely understanding how uncomfortable Becca was about the subject. “You know Aesir cannot procreate with Midgardians.”

Aase eyed them both intently, her pale eyes flickering between her and Thor a few times before she shook her head. “Seiðr is unpredictable, young man,” she said sternly. “Ye’d do well to remember that.”

Becca bristled a little at the implication, but Aase nodded decisively and turned back to Thor before she could say anything about it. “Now I presume ye’re here because of this quaint get-together our King announced this morning?” She grinned toothily and hobbled back into the stall. “Caused quite the stir with such last-minute announcement. It’s very nearly scandalous.”

“Indeed,” Thor sighed, reaching out to take one of Becca’s hands in his, drawing her closer again. “I fear the dresses I had fashioned for Rebecca are not suited for such occasion, since I did not anticipate such formal occasion occurring during our stay here at all.”

Becca winced and glanced towards Aase, who was nodding along, sifting through the piles of fabric on the table with a thoughtful expression on her wrinkled face. “Aye, I imagine ye didn’t,” she told him wryly. “Come along then, Frøken. “We’ll get ye settled.”

After a quick glance to Thor, who nodded encouragingly at her, she followed Aase into the tent that had been pitched behind the little table that held the piles of fabrics. “Now you watch my wares, Odinson,” Aase said, turning around to point one finger at Thor. “I’ll help yer lass find some appropriate clothin’. This is no place fer men—even princely ones. Get us some cherry pie too.”

Becca watched in astonishment as the elderly woman pressed a few coins into Thor’s hand—as though he needed her to pay for him—and shooed him out of the tent, pulling the large flap at the front closed.

“Now,” Aase’s gravelly voice drew her attention back to where the older lady stood. “Let’s get started.”

————————

GLADSHEIM, VALASKAILF, ASGARD

NOVEMBER 28TH, 2015 – 8:27PM (EARTH UCT+1)

THOR

Thor had, in his long years of life, attended many a feast thrown at his own behest. He was, after all, Asgard’s favored son, its golden prince and its valiant protector. While he had relished in the feasts readily when he had been younger and, perhaps, less wise, he found them tedious now, filled with people that sought his father’s favor like spoiled children clamoring for attention. Worse, even, was that his father entertained such fools, and allowed them access into their hallowed halls, whereas he would once have shunned them for degrading themselves so.

Of course, the feast today was one of little import and great significance at the same time. Thor had not attended a feast in his honor since Loki had fallen to Malekith’s ilk, and he had certainly never done so with his Midgardian lover by his side. While tradition forbade him from spending the entire evening with Rebecca and his friends, it allowed enough leeway for him to meet her at the gilded doors, to escort her inside.

He had not seen her since his father had dispatched a passel of handmaidens, one blushing fiercer than the next when they had seen him kiss Rebecca goodbye, to escort her to the chambers that had been prepared for her, and he had not yet seen her fully adorned in the garb of his people.

It was, honestly, a breathtaking sight.

He had been in love with her for some time—longer, honestly, than he had allowed himself to admit, even within the relatively private confines of his own mind—and he had always thought her beautiful, but it was different to see her… to see her as she would have appeared if she had been born Asgardian. It was both wonderful and excruciating to imagine what it might’ve been like if she had been born on Asgard rather than Earth.

His father, certainly, would not hate her so much.

“You look breathtaking,” he told her when he reached her, reaching out to still her trembling hands with his own. He knew she was likely nervous—it was not as though he could blame her for it—this was, in all likelihood, unlike anything she had ever done before, and she had not been able to prepare for the evening as thoroughly as Thor would otherwise have insisted.

There were far too many unspoken rules, too many rigid guidelines to steer social interaction during such events, too many ways one could take insult and seek retribution against his Rebecca.

Sif, of course, much more schooled in the ways of Aesir court, had sworn she would not leave Rebecca’s side during the feast, and Hogun had pledged the same, and it made Thor feel marginally better, to know that his friends would seek to protect Rebecca from the whims of nobility when he would be prevented of doing so himself by courtly duties.

“Thank you,” Becca sighed, shaking her head and dropping one hand to rest against her sternum. “I can’t breathe, and I feel like this thing has my boobs shoved up to my chin, but at least it looks good.” She gave him a breathless smile and winked when he couldn’t help but eye said bosom appreciatively—she did look positively delectable.

Thor chuckled and slightly brushed his fingers across the tops of her breasts, relishing in her affronted expression. “In such case,” he grinned, “I look forward to returning you to your chambers and aiding you in…” he trailed his hand down the exaggerated curve of her waist, coming to rest lightly on her hip, where the soft fabric of her deep red dress flared, falling loosely around her legs, “… removingsuch constricting attire.”

Becca smirked and leaned up onto her toes to sling her arms around his neck. “You know you have more of an accent when you’re here?” She pecked his lips quickly. “It’s kind of hot.”

“Is it?”

He smirked, slipping his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off her feet so he could kiss her properly, as he had not had the chance to do since they had arrived in Asgard. She returned his affection gladly, smiling against his lips and pressing herself against him, only moving when one of his father’s Einherjar coughed loudly.

Thor almost smiled when she merely turned her head a little to look at the man, raising a single eyebrow as if to question why he dared interrupt them. While Thor questioned the wisdom of such blatant disrespect, he certainly appreciated the sentiment.

“I fear our time has run out,” he disclosed with an intimate smile, smoothing his hands down her back as she lowered herself down to stand on her own two feet again.

“Well, I guess we’ve got to entertain the masses,” Becca said, rolling her eyes as she stepped out of his embrace. Thor grinned, lifting her hand to his lips for a brief kiss, before turning to the large, gilded double doors, awaiting their opening.

“They will announce us,” he told Rebecca, although he was certain Sif would have already informed her of the structure of the feast. “And then Father will offer me first dance.”

“Which you will refuse,” Becca said matter-of-factly, throwing him for a moment.

It was, of course, not entirely untrue.

He had, in the past, always refused the first dance when Loki had not been in attendance, for it would’ve proven grievous insult to his brother-betrothed if he were to dance inn mátki munr with another. The first dance of a feast was one of great importance—Thor did not know the history of it, but his mother had always impressed upon him to dance it with no one but those he held dearest to his heart.

For much time, that had been Loki.

Now, a choice stood to be made.

He had shared years with Rebecca, and planned to spend many more by her side. It was a commitment he was pleased to make, but it was one he had, so far, only been able to honor on Earth. Perhaps tonight, at the feast his father had organized to separate him from his beloved—he would relish in the opportunity to turn his father’s wicked intentions on their head, and use the situation to his advantage.

“Perhaps I won’t, this time,” he finally said.

Becca turned to him, eyes wide and forehead creased into a frown. “What are you—”

The doors opened.

————————

8:58 PM (EARTH UCT+1)

The feast, as many of the feasts his father had organized during his reign as King of the Nine, was a carefully constructed show of opulence and thinly veiled decadence. It served to be a strict reminder to the other Nine that they were only allowed to prosper and thrive—or in the case of Jötunheimr, survive—because his father, in his benevolence, willed it so.

While he had not noticed the arrogance and cruelty of such displays for many years, Thor now found it nigh impossible to see anything else in his father’s feasts.

There was little coincidence in the way the All-Father had arranged tonight’s guest list, and the presence of dozens of the Nine’s most eligible princesses and princes had only made him smile harder when he had offered Rebecca his hand when he was asked to open the feast with a dance.

He didn’t doubt that Becca had noticed the sudden, stunned silence when he had taken the honor to open the feast, rather than rejecting it, as he always had before when Loki was not in attendance. She likely did not know what the dance itself signified, what it meant to those in attendance, to see him dance inn mátki munr with his Midgardian lover, but he had little doubt she would demand an explanation as soon as they were alone.

“Thank you for the dance,” he’d whispered when the last notes of the music disappeared, brushing his lips across hers in a feather light kiss. “I will find you once the masses release me.”

Becca had merely smiled at him, kind and understanding even when he was undeserving of it. “You better,” she’d told him sternly, before she had stepped from his embrace, returning to Sif’s side with naught to show for their intimate moment but a faint flush to her cheeks.

He didn’t know how long it’d been since then, and found himself even less conscious of the meaningless prattle of conversation he had been forced to engage in since then, always dimly aware of Becca’s presence on the periphery of his consciousness, laughing with Sif in the corner of his eye, sweeping Fandral across the dance floor with an unholy amount of glee, fitting in with the rabble he called friends better than he had dared dream she would.

He was glad to see she appeared to be having a grand time, despite her initial reluctance to attend, and he only wished he could enjoy the evening as much as she did. Alas, many of the foreign dignitaries, while undoubtedly clever and highly educated and perfectly lovely conversational partners, seemed woefully dull in comparison to his friends—Midgardian and Asgardian alike.

He struggled to pay attention to whatever banal tale Lady Gróa insisted on telling him, attempting to smile when prompted and interject whenever she required his input, but finding the entire experience severely lacking.

He recalled he had enjoyed conversing with her, once upon a time, when he had been willing to flirt with whoever caught his eye at the time, but he was disappointed to learn that she seemed under the impression that his “Midgardian” would never be able to keep him occupied.

She spoke of his Rebecca almost as though she were a quaint pet he’d acquired.

“Apologies for the interruption,” a new, unfamiliar, but infinitely pleasing voice—with a thicker Vanaheim accent than he was used to hearing at occasions such as this—interrupted Lady Gróa in the middle of her tale about the trees she was cultivating to ensure the continued growth of Golden Apples. “If I could borrow the Prince for a moment?”

He turned, heedless of the little voice in his head—that sounded suspiciously like Loki—that insisted something didn’t feel right. The music that played seemed dimmed, somehow, when he first laid eyes on the woman that stood behind him. Her bright, copper curls gleamed in the light of the candles, and Thor was struck by her beauty at once—he was, as Stark liked to joke, a taken man, but he was certainly not a blind one.

She stood almost as tall as him, full lips curled into an easy smile, dark eyes riveted on his. He felt abruptly lightheaded, and swayed a little where he stood. There was something about this woman that was trying its hardest to lure, to seduce, and had he been a lesser man, Thor suspected he may have easily fallen for whatever plot she sought to carry out.

“I’m Lorelei,” she said softly, fluttering her eyelashes in a way that he could admit was exceptionally aesthetically pleasing, but—

Something wasn’t right about her.

A spell, likely, of some sort.

Thor had never had much talent for spell weaving himself, but he had grown up with a mother who had been raised by witches and a brother-betrothed who liked to learn the most complicated spells he could, just to prove to those that doubted he was capable.

Thor, most unfortunately, had usually been his guinea pig.

It had had led to him learning to recognize such things long ago.

“What do you want?” he demanded, perhaps treading far less cautiously than the situation demanded. “Who are you really?”

Her smile faltered just barely, but enough for him to notice.

“I apologize,” she replied coquettishly. “I don’t know what you mean. My name is Lorelei. I merely wanted to make your acquaintance while you were here on Asgard. You are a difficult man to find, these days.” She paused, reconsidering, and then smiled lightly. “For those not permitted to travel the realms freely, of course.”

There was nothing outwardly threatening about her persona, and Thor could not say why her presence and her insistence on conversation vexed him so, but the annoyance, the blatant anger towards the woman was there nonetheless, pulsing beneath his skin like barely restrained lightning.

“Cease your tricks, Vǫlva,” he spat. “What do you want?”

He looked around, finding that some people had turned towards them, had noticed their Prince’s agitation, at least—but still no Einherjar moved towards them, even though they should have moved at the very first sign of fracas, especially since it involved him.

When he returned his gaze to the woman—Lorelei—she had moved closer, moving towards him with the assessing, cool gaze of a predator, eyeing him as one would an opponent.

Good.

Whatever she had planned, he was in no gaming mood.

“You are different then,” she said, almost amused, one eyebrow raised. “I almost didn’t believe him, when he told me.”

“Speak plainly, woman,” he barked. “I have enough grounds to have you arrested already. Weaving a spell to try to entice anyone is a capital offense in Asgard. I imagine the punishment is much more severe when you foolishly try to cast such weavings on a prince. Do not make things worse for yourself.”

She chuckled, as though the very idea of him threatening arrest was ludicrous, and shook her head. “I met him once. We had similar interests. You brother-betrothed and I, that is. Former betrothed, I should say. Have you told your pet human what dancing inn mátkimunr with her means to those who witnessed it here?”

The implication was not lost on him, and he seethed quietly at the idea of having to justify himself to this... this no one. Not a woman of noble birth, not a member of his family, not a friend—not even a spurned once-lover.

He did not owe words to her or anyone but Rebecca.

“She knows what she needs to,” he replied honestly, for he had nothing to hide, nothing to feel shamed about. “And when she wishes to learn more, I shall gladly tell her. When we are alone, in the bed that we share—the bed I choose to share with her.”

Lorelei laughed, a high, grating sound, and shook her head. “Who would’ve thought to see this day? The mighty God of Thunder ensnared by a mere mortal. One that has considerable skill in trickery, clearly. You have clearly defined tastes, my Prince.”

Thor raised an eyebrow, hardly impressed by the weak implication, and smirked, blatantly looking the woman up and down. “Oh, I assure you, Lady Lorelei, she needed no trickery to convince me to join her between her sheets.”

Lorelei’s otherwise beautiful face contorted into a twisted mask of anger and hatred, and she started forward, her hand raised towards him, the air around her fingers trembling with unrestrained Seiðr. Thor hummed, loosening his grip on the thunder that roiled beneath his skin at all times, allowing lightning to play between his fingertips even as the room shook, ever so lightly, around them.

Conversation around them stilled abruptly, and it was as though the crowd had only now realized the threat of two powerful Seiðr users colliding in their midst.

He dared not see why his father had not approached—if this… this Lorelei had been able to use her Seiðr to subdue even his father, Thor feared that he would not be able to subdue her. If not… he loathed to look, although he knew it was equally, if not more, likely he would find his father lounging on the throne, waiting to see how Thor would handle the problem.

Guards,” he spoke, lowering his voice to a timbre he knew instilled fear in those that opposed him. “Seize this völva and see her to one of the cells guarded by Seiðr.” He did not take his eyes off Lorelei’s darker ones, ever so conscious of the fact that she would attack if he dared show the slightest of weaknesses.

Her lips curled into a mocking smile when none moved to his aid, and Thor felt a frissom of dread, a preternatural shiver that heeded caution run down his spine.

“They’ll not come to your aid, my prince,” she smiled cruelly. “They cannot. Their will is mine now. As I would have yours. Of course, this would’ve been much easier on you if you’d just succumbed.”

“I fear I’m not the habit of doing things the easy way,” he quipped.

“No,” Lorelei smirked. “I see that.”

The ground beneath his feet trembled ominously, and the hairs on the back of his neck raised.

The amount of pure seiðr that the woman sought to summon was both impressive and frightening, for it was enough to level the entire palace to the ground with a single, whispered word. The people that surrounded them moved disjointedly, chaotically, frightened whispers working up to a deafening crescendo, and Thor could only hope that Sif and the Warriors Three had enough presence of mind to get Rebecca to safety before he and this völva collided.

Not, of course, that he did not hold her capable of defending herself when the situation called for it, but because he feared that no matter her heart and her bravery, she stood little chance against seiðr.

“Perhaps I’ll make your little pet watch,” Lorelei chuckled. “When I have your mind, I’ll take your body. Show her how Aesir truly fuck. Or I could have you fuck her—without holding back. You’d break her pathetic little body into pieces, and you wouldn’t even care. It’s of little consequence,” she waved her hand. “It’s not like she matters anyway.”

Thor stiffened, lightning springing to his fingertips without conscious thought. “Don’t talk about her like that.” Whereas he had merely been annoyed by the woman before, he was enraged now.

“Why?” Lorelei sneered, an ugly, angry expression twisting her beautiful features. “Afraid to hear the truth, prince? I know I’m not the only one thinking such things. They all just wait. They bide their time, and when you look away, and you will, they’ll have her. And they’ll break her. As they broke your brother-betrothed.”

“Shut up!” Thor bellowed, and the crowd gasped when the entirety of the palace trembled beneath the weight of his barely contained rage.

Even Lorelei looked rattled for a split-second.

Unfortunately, the woman bounced back quickly enough, and she sneered, “So that is it, my prince? Others touching what you deem belongs to you… You’re weak. All you need is a bikkja willing to spread their legs for you and they’ve got you wrapped around their little finger.”

Lorelei’s face was contorted into an ugly mask of anger and disgust, and her skin was slowly turning red and splotchy, and for a moment, she reminded him of his father during particularly challenging arguments and rows. “You’re not worthy of what you possess,” she said gravely. “Not to worry. I’ll see your mind set to rights.”

And before he realized what was happening, she raised her hand, woven spell moving thickly between her fingers, whispering the words that would take his mind, his will from him and—

It happened so fast he barely had the time to process before a loud bang thundered through the hall, and Lorelei screamed, the seiðr fleeing from her fingers as blood bloomed from the gunshot wound in her abdomen.

Thor blinked, looking past Lorelei to find Rebecca—because of course Rebecca had brought a gun to Asgard, he should have seen this coming—standing beside a shocked Sif, her eyes wide and a little apprehensive as she lowered her weapon, and Thor…

Thor did not have time to think on how incredibly arousing it was to remember Rebecca was a warrior in her own right—and how foolish he had been for forgetting it for even a moment. He needed to set such thoughts aside.

His father had moved from his throne, finally, approaching Thor with a thunderous expression, and a bullet would not slow down Lorelei for long.

“Guards,” Thor bellowed, grinning with satisfaction when several of the men jumped, “lock her in the seiðr cells. Gag her and bind her.”

He looked up at Rebecca, who was being herded out of the hall by Sif, and grinned at her.

He could deal with his daring little mortal later.

————————

Start from the beginning:

In Hell We Stand By You:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Never Feel Alone:

(1) (2)

Decisions: (1)

Dancing with a Limp:

(1) (2)

Chances:

(1)

Starting Over:

(1) (2) (3) (4)

Or read it HERE on AO3 :D Find the next chapter HERE on Tumblr :)

#IHWSBY sequel #starting over #stucky #Stucky fanfiction #Steve rogers #thor #Rebecca barnes #my writing #Lisa writes #avengers family

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the-faultofdaedalus · 7 years

Text

Maria’s Legacy

It’s one of Tony’s best-kept secrets, simply because no-one thought to look. Tony Stark has no family. That’s what most people think, but that’s because they only ever looked at Howard, all his secrets and life and everything, and never Maria. Pepper wondered, when she first got the job, what the week-long marked-off section in may was. There was no information, not even a place, and when she asked Tony, he just grinned and said, “Personal Trip.” Later, when he could trust her, he brought her along. No explanation, just shuffled her onto the plane, grinning the whole time. The landed in Milan, which in itself, wasn't unusual, they had lots of business in Italy. What came after, though, that was very much unusual. They shuffled cars a couple times, and then they drove into the countryside, up into the rolling foothills. They drove up to a big old house, but the kind of old that looked lived in, the kind of old that had footsteps worn into the floors and handprints on the walls from generations of children, and the kind of big that wasn't so much grand, as it was necessary. It turned out to be very much necessary, because as they grew closer, Tony rolled down the windows, and a flock of children ranging from mid-teens to barely bigger than toddlers, who had been kicking around a ball on the hilly lawn, jogged beside the car, calling out in Italian which Tony answered as he coasted up the driveway, to where there were about two dozen other cars parked, creeping onto the grass. They tugged Tony this way and that as soon as they got out of the car, but he didn't even flinch, let them grab his sleeves and tug at his hands, and one little girl with wide brown eyes even got a piggy-back ride towards the door. Some of them dashed around Pepper, nearly making her trip, and she heard Tony introducing her over the what the hell is going on that was looping inside her head. An older woman, with grey streaking her brown hair and holding a baby with the same brown eyes, opened the door, and welcomed them both with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and an Italian greeting for Tony that made him smile. “You must be Pepper.” She said, warmth in her eyes, and gestured for them to come up, shooing the children away from both of them. “We’ll have to do the introductions now, before the bambini steal away their favourite uncle.” She said, and Pepper could do nothing but follow Tony’s lead as he took off his shoes, and followed the other woman up a flight of stairs, into a large kitchen area where even more people were talking and laughing, and each of them greeted Tony warmly, like family, because that’s what they were. Tony disappeared after greeting all of them, stolen, as Tony’s aunt had predicted, by the many, many children. Supper was a production, somehow everyone managing to fit around three separate tables, though it was a bit of a tight squeeze. There weren't quite enough chairs, but benches and stools and even one armchair had all been shoved around the table. There were about a dozen different conversations happening at once, in both Italian and fragmented English, which Pepper was trying her best to understand. She made a mental note to start learning Italian, as Tony laughed at something one of them had said. He kept glancing at her, because he was nervous. He’d trusted her with his family. So, in the next break in the flow of conversation, and the next time she glanced at her, she smiled at him. He seemed to relax after that, and leaned over in breaks in the conversation to tell her about this cousin, who was starting her own business, and this niece, who was having a baby in the fall, and piece by piece, she learned about his family. Immediately after desert, all the kids had dragged a very willing Tony outside again, and Pepper was shanghaied into dishwashing duty. She and another woman were washing the dishes, and passing them off to another pair, who were drying and putting things away. The dishes were done in almost no-time, and Pepper followed everyone out onto the large deck, watching the sunset, drinking wine, and chatting. A couple hours later, well into the night, everyone began to split off, seemingly already knowing where their rooms were. Pepper was shown to hers, and since even a house of this size was hard-pressed to house everyone, and she was Tony’s guest, they’d be sharing a room. When she protested this, the woman who was walking down the hall with her just laughed. “Oh no. It’s the same as when Rhodes visits, when he can. There’s a foldout couch, though knowing Tony, it’s not going to get unfolded.” She said, and leaned in conspiratorially. “We think he’s allergic to sleeping on anything remotely resembling a bed.” The next morning when Pepper got up, before the sun, as usual, Tony was sprawled on the still-folded couch, still in the clothes he was wearing yesterday, grass-stained and muddy with scratches on his arms and more than a couple leaves in his hair, like he had taken two steps into the room, and face planted onto the nearest soft object. Breakfast was even more of a production than dinner last night had been, because while dinner had been largely pre-prepared, brunch had to be cooked from scratch. Everyone had a job, even the kids, from setting the table to cooking eggs, and Tony was cutting an alarming amount of fruit for a salad. Or, considering how many people there were, not all that alarming. The rest of the five days continued like that, with good food and gossip, and Tony being dragged in several directions at once by kids, off to climb trees or catch salamanders in the woods behind the house. Pepper learned every one of their names, and during the last day, the kids dragged her out too, back into the woods to a huge fort made of fallen tree limbs, with live saplings woven in among them. There were kids arguing about where to put a branch, kids climbing up the tree above the fort, and Tony was sitting in the middle of it all, holding up a newer section while it was being constructed around him, with three girls taking turns sticking flowers and leaves in his hair. She laughed, clapping her hands over her mouth and giggling. Tony turned his head to her, grinning and opening his mouth like he was going to say something when part of the structure collapsed, and a branch hit him solidly on the head. He flinched, but didn't move from where he was holding up most of the section, flowers spilling out of his hair as he turned to look up at the boy sitting in the tree above him, looking sheepish. There was a barrage of quick Italian, not exactly scolding, which Pepper was pretty sure roughly translated to “I’m not mad, but please do not do that again.” and numerous apologies from the boy. Someone passed the fallen branch back up to the boy, and very, very gently, and with lots of direction from Tony, put it in its proper place. It held, and the whole place erupted back into movement. Pepper was drafted into working as well, glad that she had chosen to wear shorts and a tee-shirt today. She helped reach high-up nooks and branches that no one else could reach, and lifted children to place branches of their own. The same three girls had put flowers in her hair as well, quite a large amount and variety, but not nearly as impressive as Tony’s collection. His head looked like a bush in full bloom. Eventually, when the sun was hanging low over the horizon, casting the tree-filled valley in shadow, the structure Tony was supporting, a platform about 6 feet off the ground and connecting two trees, was finished, and he stepped out from under it, and it held. The kids cheered, and started swarming on it, climbing and swinging and thoroughly testing its integrity in a way only children could. Tony stood back from the main fort, looking proudly at the newest section of the fort, still swarming with children. He caught her gaze, and grinned. “They’re good kids.” He said, and took her arm. “I wanna show you something.” He said, and tugged her into the largest, and oldest, part of the fort. There was a huge dead trunk in the centre of it, branches stretching out through the rest of it like a spine, holding it together. She stepped closer, and carved on the bark were names, old, weathered initials near the bottom, and newer ones stretching up along the length. She crouched, and traced one of them, a faded, uneven TS with her finger. “I was 6 when my mom brought me here the first time. The fort was a lot smaller, than. Some of my cousins started it, and it’s been growing ever since.” Tony said, and she could hear him behind her, not moving, just letting her trace all the history here. The JR, much newer, and much neater, carved next to Tony’s initials. She stood up, and was surprised when Tony handed her a small pocket knife. Surprise turned to realisation, and she nearly dropped it trying to give it back to him. “I can’t- I’m not-” She started to say, and Tony cut her off. “Hey, stop that. You’ve certainly put enough work into it, and it’s tradition at this point. You wouldn't want to break tradition, would you?” He asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he held his hands up, refusing to take the knife from her. She relaxed, and smiled back. “Well, I’m certainly not opposed to breaking tradition when it’s asking for it.” She said, flipping open the knife, and crouching back down. “This one seems like a good one, though.” She said, and carved a small PP next to Tony’s initials. She straightened, and passed the knife back. “Thank you.” And that was how Pepper found out that Tony’s family was much, much larger than she ever would’ve expected. Now that she knew about it, was trusted with it, and was part of it, it turned out that they contacted Tony near-constantly. She’d steadily learned Italian, and could converse fairly well with most of them, at that point. Video calls from all the little cousins, on birthdays and holidays, which were always conveniently timed so Pepper was around when they called, tugged into the frame to sing happy birthday to the third kid that month. Tony always made little trinkets for them, toy trains or metal faries, little hand-made gifts that were as sturdy as they were as beautiful. To her embarrassment, they started calling her “Aunt Pepper” whenever they saw her. Or, to her embarrassment, until one of the kids took it upon himself to explain to her her why she was an aunt. “Well, you're not a cousin, and your not a grandma, so you gotta be an aunt!” Said the boy on the screen, grinning at her, not minding that he was missing two teeth. “Like Uncle Rhodey!” He said, and she couldn't help but smile at him. The only time they ever called her, was after Tony failed to come back from Afghanistan. She was in the workshop, desperately trying to comfort the bots with JARVIS, who just didn't understand why their father wasn't coming home, and she’d be lying if they weren't comforting her, in a small part, too. She was trying, and sobbing, and they wouldn't let her leave because Rhodey was in the hospital and she had to go see him, and she was frantically trying to collect herself because there’d be press outside the hospital and the military hadn’t approved an official statement yet and any response from were was going to spark half a dozen new pieces of speculation and- Her phone rang, even though she had silenced it in more ways than she could count, and she nearly threw it across the room before she saw the caller ID. She answered, and put it on speaker, because her face was wet with tears. She didn't even try to stop crying, and she heard more than one muffled intake of breath over the line and a soft “Oh god.” She managed to collect herself, a tiny amount, one shard shoved back into it’s place, or close enough. “It’s- it’s not- there wasn't a body- he could-” She stuttered, and sobbed, the bots still not understanding, but hearing enough, because there hadn't been a body but there’d been so much blood, and the vehicles were torn apart like tissue paper, and he could, but it was a snowball’s chance in hell. But, they were Tony’s. And they still had hope. It would be cruel to keep it from the kids, and they mourned, and there was no funeral, but Pepper and Rhodey both flew out to the estate, and together with the rest of his family, covered the fort that he’d built up for more than two decades in candles and flowers and tools, a private memorial that would always be more meaningful than any other service. His initials, scratched into the trunk of the tree that was the backbone of the fort all those years ago, they filled with gold, a slightly clear resin that seemed to glow from the inside, reflecting the light of the candles and the moon, breaking through the roof of leaves and branches. It was somber, but bright and still filled with life. It would’ve been perfect, but Tony wasn't there. Except they found him. Three months later and with enough tears to fill a river, they found him. Pepper had expected him to fly straight to Italy, no matter the press or the company, but he didn't. He hid away in the workshop for weeks, too skinny and with far too many new scars, tearing down his company to build something else up, and Pepper didn't know what do. And then Stane turned out to be behind it all, and Pepper shouldn't have been surprised at the lengths Tony would go to protect his family, because she’d already seen it, half a dozen car changes and shell company upon shell company, shielding them from any connection to Stark. Pepper had pulled that lever to override the reactor, knowing that she’d have to tell each and every person he loved, who loved him, that he was cinders in a factory, and that he’d died fighting a person he’d trusted that was trying to kill him and everything he was working for. She’d pulled that lever, and all she could see in behind the flare of power was the tree fort burning, burning, burning down. Ashes and cinders, and smoke and destruction. She’d pulled the lever, and lit the match. Tony survived. A little worse for wear, in both mind and body, but he survived. It’s what he did. And he was a superhero, and revealed that to the entire world, and she knew that he was thinking about his family, and hoping that they would be proud, and Pepper didn't know how to tell him they always were. They’d flown to Italy that May, with all three of the bots, because they all refused to let Tony out of their sight, and really, so did Pepper and Rhodey. Rhodey wasn't on the plane with them, but he’d be there in time for supper. She’d helped him wrap bandages around the reactor, muting the glow, and even though she didn't ask, he answered anyway. “They’re just kids. They shouldn't have to know how cruel the world can be.” He said, as he pulled his shirt down over the bandages, two layers when before he’d only worn one. Neither should you, she didn't say, just answered his sad smile with her own. The little cousins were all delighted to finally meet Dummy and Butterfingers and You, climbing on their struts, all the bots being exceedingly gentle with them That night, they’d all walked down to the fort, and slowly, victoriously, with a Dremel because the unpowered tools weren't working, Tony scraped the resin out of his initials, leaving them plain wood once more. The night had gone as it always had after that, the kids tugging Tony off to catch frogs and newts and climb trees to look at stars, and Pepper and Rhodey, both exhausted, had taken the room, Pepper on the bed and Rhodey on the fold-out, assuming that Tony would eventually pile onto the couch with Rhodey, like they had in college. So, when they both woke up early, courtesy of military and business, and saw no Tony in the room, they were concerned. Until they’d walked into the living room, both still in their horrible 6 dollar Iron Man pyjamas, (because their friend was a superhero, and with great power came terrible merch, and they were abusing that power greatly.) To see a group of kids, plus the bots, clustered around the couch. Tony was (badly) feigning sleep on the couch, lips twitching, sprawled out with an arm hanging off the back, and a leg hanging off the end, as the kids took turns placing little plastic dinosaurs on a tower on his forehead. Pepper and Rhodey watched with bated breath as one of the younger kids, holding a bright yellow stegosaurus, climbed on top of Dummy to add to the tower. It held. The next kid went, and the next, and finally, the tower fell. Tony stopped pretending he was asleep and burst into laughter, the kids with him, shaking so hard he nearly fell off the couch, hand thrown over his face, which was scrunched up in a grin. Pepper and Rhodey started laughing too, couldn't help it, and Tony blinked open his eyes to look at them, only to laugh even harder when he saw what they were wearing. Pepper exchanged a glance with Rhodey, and she could tell that they were both thinking the same thing. We’re so gonna get these for everyone. And, they did. The Christmas picture that year was a mass of red and gold, both yellow paper cutouts taped onto red shirts, and elaborately knitted sweaters that looked exactly like the armour. One of Tony’s older cousins was to thank for that, as an avid knitter, had made an Iron Man themed something for everyone. The younger kids got over the fact that their favourite uncle was a superhero quickly, not that surprisingly. After all, they loved him for him, because he was the fun adult who’d climb trees and catch newts and play any made-up game you’d like, not for his money or his name or his power. The years continued like that, with cousins growing older and moving off to university, and as new family were born and they grew older, they added their initials to the trunk of the fort, which was nearly a city at that point. And then, the Avengers happened and wormed their own way into Tony’s family by fighting together and trusting each other despite everything in their pasts, and Pepper grinned along with Tony as they shuffled 5 other very confused Avengers plus Coulson into the jet. It was strange, to be on the in, watching the people who weren't in just yet get there. The car shuffle was trickier this time, needing a much larger car to fit all 9 of them, the avengers plus Coulson, Rhodey, and Pepper, which was a limo, and 3 different minivans. As they drove closer to the house, Pepper and Rhodey kept breaking into helpless bouts of giggles, which earned them quite a few looks. “Is anyone else getting murder vibes here?” Clint asked, turning in his seat to look at everyone else. “Because I'm getting murder vibes. I mean, I’m not complaining, per-se, this is a pretty nice place for a murder ditch, but still.” He said, and this time, Tony joined in on the laughter as well. Natasha and Coulson both looked very, very confused, and suspicious, which seemed to manifest at the same time on those two. Which meant that SHIELD didn't know about the army of relatives Tony had. Which meant that somebody was going to get fired. The pulled up the the house, coasting along the driveway as the cousins mobbed the van, running along beside it until it parked. The looks of absolute terrified befuddlement on the SHIELD agent’s faces were amazing. Pepper hoped JARVIS got a picture of them. Other than the SHIELD agents, though, who were having minor existential crises as Tony introduced them, Thor, Bruce, and Steve were also looking slightly confused, but all seemed genuinely happy to see the kids and meet everyone. The knitting cousin, who Pepper heard had been nesting in skeins of yarn since Tony had told the family that they were getting new members, ambushed them with knitted sweaters of themselves. Even Coulson had got one, a large pullover that looked almost exactly like a suit. Pepper watched 7 new initials carved on the trunk of the fort that week, clustered around Tony’s still slightly golden ones, and smiled herself to sleep. People only ever talked about Howard’s legacy, what he’d left his son, his heir. Howard’s legacy was weapons and wealth and a name, icy absences and harsh lessons learned too early. No one ever talked about Maria’s. Maria’s Legacy was music, and heart and family, old tree forts and carved names. It’s easy to see which one’s worth more.

END

#my writing #Tony Stark #WHAT IF TONY HAD A HUGE FAMILY #LIKE I'M TALKING 7 AUNTS 5 UNCLES AND ABOUT A MILLION COUSINS #AND PEPPER AND RHODEY AND THE AVENGERS WERE PART OF IT #fluff #angst #also coulson in the bg quietly having an aneurysm because STARK HAS AN ARMY OF LIKE-MINDED CHILDREN GOD HELP US ALL

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miitzwrites · 7 years

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What Makes Us Stronger Ch. 7: Boundless Darkness

Hey y'all, the new chapter is finally here! As always, English isn’t my first language, this chapter was unbeta'ed, and all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

(Also on AO3 and FF.net )

———-

“What’s up, losers? You better have a good reason to call me at this ungodly hour because you just ruined my date again,” the blonde said loudly as she entered the room. The bee miraculous holder kept her eyes on the screen of her cellphone as she type another message and occupied her usual seat by the window.

When Chloe received the miraculous, she was astonished to become a super hero. She would be famous and loved and more importantly, she would work side by side with her hero. After their first time fighting an akuma, Chloe realized that some changes were necessary in order to become a real hero like Ladybug, so, with that purpose in mind, the mean and cruel daughter of the Mayor, became a different person. The cracks that pained her and made her an unbearable girl were filled by the love and admiration of the people of Paris and the support of Ladybug and Chat Noir, and after a while, she found herself surrounded by people who cared about her.

She couldn’t get enough of the feeling of transforming into Queen B.

The Great Master cleared his throat, and when Chloe looked up from the screen, she nearly fell off her chair. “Mr. Agreste? What are you doing here?” She asked incredulously and shoot a look at Alya who shrugged off her shoulders. “Master Fu asked me to gather you guys here. There’s an emergency,” Nino intervened, scratching the back of his head, nervously.

“There is something we need to discuss, and it’s important to have all of you tonight,” the Great Master didn’t wait for another interruption, and continued speaking, “Ladybug’s life could be in danger.” Alya let out an audible gasp and Chloe dropped her phone, but both women tried to conserve the calm, shooting nervous glances at Gabriel’s direction. “And it is our duty as the guardians of the miraculouses to restore the balance that was lost when Chat Noir passed away.”

Gabriel’s face went blank at the mention of his deceased son, action that didn’t go unnoticed by the other members, causing Alya to speak for the first time since their reunion began. “So, if we all have a miraculous, that means that Mr. Agreste here is, or rather was the owner of the peacock brooch, right?”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the room. Gabriel shook his head, softly, as the former and the current Great Masters exchanged a look.

“Babe,” Nino started, himself holding Alya’s hand between his, “This is more complicated than that. Years ago, the peacock miraculous was granted to a beautiful and fair woman who had an awful accident. She went missing and so did the miraculous. That woman was Cecilia Agreste.”

“No way!” Chloe exclaimed in shook, “Are you saying that Adrien’s mom was a holder like us? Did you know it, Master Fu?”

“I did,” the old man answered, “I didn’t have the chance to tell him, but I was hoping he could help me to not only find the brooch, but also, to discover his mother’s whereabouts.”

The room fell in silence once again, everyone expecting Gabriel to add something to their discussion. “In different circumstances, I wouldn’t be discussing this personal matter with any of you, but as you’ve been told, Marinette could be in danger, and we need to find a way to help her.” Gabriel carried himself with the confidence that was proper of an Agreste, but his tone was solemn and his expression hard. “But to do so, I must confess that.-” “That’s not necessary, Gabriel,” Master Fu interrupted him, “You’ve done enough.”

“No, no, no.” Alya cut in, raising lightly her voice to hide the fear that was invading her. “My best friend is in danger, and her father-in-law knows more than we thought. Please, Mr. Agreste, finish what you were saying.”

“I am the former owner of the moth miraculous. I was Hawkmoth.”

Chloe felt like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over her, and Alya felt a punch in her guts. The blonde rose from her seat and walked over to face Gabriel.

When Chloe was younger, she was mean and a bully, but as she grew up, she became a fine and fierce warrior. However, the dead cold look in her eyes was something new. Something definitely scary.

“Marinette told us that Hawkmoth killed Chat Noir. How could you? How could you live knowing that you killed your own son!” She yelled at him, and hit him with her clenched hands, but the small, yellow god came out from her purse, trying to get her attention, Pollen flew between them. “That’s enough, Miss, you’re losing your temper,” Pollen chided her holder. “I don’t care!” Chloe replied, doing her best to keep her angry tears from falling, “He killed my best friend!”

The little god circled Chloe and flapping her wings, Pollen produced a sweet smelling dust that always seemed to calm her chosen. “I understand your feelings better than you think. But if you want to help your friend, you need to put yourself together. Ladybug needs our help.” Sniffing, Chloe nodded and turned around.

Brushing the wrinkles off his suit, Gabriel added, “There’s something else I need to tell you. I believe I know the identity of the person who took Marinette.”

“Man, you just dropped the bomb on them. Let the girls have a few minutes to digest it.” Nino said, and realizing his mistake, he quickly turned to Alya, who pulled her hand away, harshly. “Babe, I swear.-” “Save it, Nino. You did know and didn’t care to tell me before coming here, that’s all that matters.”

Sensing the distress of her holder, Trixx flied from the front pocket of Alya’s shirt and landen on her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek, softly.

“All of you, quit the drama now. Gods, why didn’t I choose holders of my age?” Master Fu shook his head. “Resuming what brought us here, I believe the person who took Ladybug is an old friend of ours. The possibilities that Chat Noir is back, are high.”

Blinking, Chloe was the first to ask, “How’s that possible when Hawkmoth killed Adrien?”

“I said Chat Noir, Queen B, not Adrien,” Master Fu replied, “If I understand this correctly, Chat Noir received a power impact with Hawkmoth’s cane, and it’s likely that an akuma was attracted to his ring,” Master Fu began his explanation, rubbing his beard in concentration, “But Hawkmoth here told me he buried his son with his brooch. Following that train of thought, the miraculous of the black cat is the most volatile of all the miraculouses, needing the ladybug miraculous to compensate this energy.

Two miraculouses that aren’t designed to be together, can potentially create chaos, and if we consider the fact that the moth brooch was charged with dark energy, in combination with the silver ring of the black cat, the consequences can be terrible.”

When Master Fu finished his explanation, Alya clapped her hands and added, “then that’s the plan. We get Mari back, she cleanses the ring and the brooch, and everything goes back to normal.”

“It’s not that simple, Vixen. He technically returned from the death, carrying with him a dark force. The object that needs to be purified is inside of him. It’s his soul. And never in my entire life, I’ve witnessed such a miracle.”

Ooooo

“What is it, Princess? Cat got your tongue?”

Marinette knew that this man in front of her couldn’t be the love of the life. His voice was rough and his eyes emotionless, and yet, when he sat on the edge of the bed by her side, she couldn’t help but let out a small sob as her body began to tremble. “You’re not him. I saw him dead. I buried him.”

Chat Blanc grinned widely, and reverently, he took her hand and brought it up to his lips, planting small kisses over her knuckles. “Is this not real to you, my Lady?” Then, he placed her hand upon his chest, above his heart. “Is it not beating fast enough for you?” He leaned closer to Marinette, brushed the fangs from her eyes and kissed her forehead, softly. “I’m real, Marinette. Not even death can keep us apart.”

She was openly crying now, lowering her defenses for the person she trusted the most. Deep inside, Marinette was well aware that this man couldn’t be her Adrien. But for a moment, she allowed herself to fall into his trap.

Chat Blanc circled her small form with his arms, and continued placing small kisses down the side of her face. “I missed you so much, Mari,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “But how? I saw you dying, Adrien, I…” she trailed off, feeling the sudden change in his behavior at the mention of his name. “I told you, I’m Chat Blanc, princess, don’t forget it,” he hissed, tightening his arms around Marinette.

Marinette nodded and decided against saying anything else for now. She controlled her breathing as he relaxed his embrace. Chat Blanc rested his head on her shoulder, and sniffed her a couple of times before emitting a deep purr that always calmed her. If Marinette closed her eyes, she could easily imagine that she was back home with Adrien by her side.

“That day, before our last battle, you smelled so much sweeter than usual.” Chat Blanc spoke after a couple of minutes in silence. “I asked Plagg and he told me my enhanced smell sense allows me to detect changes in a person, even if they don’t know it.

You didn’t know it, Marinette, but I took the hardest blows to protect you, both of you. And when I found out who Hawkmoth really was, I promised that he would never take anyone I love away from me, like he did with my mom.” She tried to discern the meaning of his words, but then, he looked at her with his most sincere smile, and placed a hand on her still flat stomach. “Now that you’re here, we can finally be a family, Marinette, you, me, and the little bean that’s growing inside of you.”

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #tales of ladybug and cat noir #marichat #chat blanc #fanfic #mlb #wmus #my fics

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thecrazydragonlady · 7 years

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“Shall We Dance?” Chapter 10

Author’s Notes: I’m snowed in, supposedly, for the next three days and I’m literally sitting on like five unpublished chapters of this story. So, have a chapter. (P.S. I’m sooooo sorry for this chapter. Hahaha not really. All tears will be poured into my goblet to maintain my eternal youth.)

Chapter 10

“Girl, you are going to knock this mystery boy out of his socks.”

Marinette sat in her rolling chair, tugging on the sides of her hood. She was wearing the black cat-esque hoodie she’d purchased some time before Chat Noir was even a superhero but if he didn’t know that, she could just play off being a major fan. The ears sat nicely on either side of her head, two black pieces of cloth with tiny pink triangles. The sleeves were a little long, flopping over her hands, which was all part of the design considering that there were patterned paw-prints on the inside and a hole just large enough to slip her thumbs in and give herself “paws.” She swallowed nervously. “Do you think this will work?”

Alya folded her jacket over her arm and grabbed her purse. “Did you wear the matching bra and underwear?” Mari’s face flamed. She nodded. Alya gave her a thumbs up. “Then yes. Yes it will work.” She looked at her phone and let out a hiss. “I gotta go. Mom’s got me on baby-sitting duty tonight. Text me with updates!”

Marinette waved her best friend off. Tikki came out then, sitting down on the desk with a cookie from her secret stash. She decided to keep herself busy for a bit by finalizing the sketch design of her dress; Alya’s was already finished since she’d spent a majority of her Sunday getting it done. The other girl had been thrilled when she’d called and had come immediately to try it on and take it home to show her parents and boyfriend. Tikki eyed the notebook. She made a bold line going down the outside of the skirt. The dress was pretty simple in design compared to say the bejeweling she’d done on Alya’s. It was an A-line princess style with the top being a silk pink, sweet-heart corset design, a belt of silver between it and the skirt, which flared out almost immediately into a wide circle before touching the floor. It was made of sheer pink and silver fabric. It would not only flow as she twirled on the dance floor, but it would sparkle as well. She held up her notebook for the kwami to see.

“What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful Marinette!” She giggled and turned it back around to face herself.

“Thanks. I was thinking of wearing some simple glass costume jewelry with it. Diamond like ones. Maybe a wristlet, necklace, and oh, Mama can curl my hair and I can do an accent piece to hold it up.”

“You really put a lot of thought into this didn’t you?”

“I did.” She paused. “Now that I think about it, I almost forgot about earrings. Don’t worry,” she added before cutting her off, “I’m not taking off these earrings. I’ll just use my hair to cover them so no one will be the wiser.” Tikki let out a sigh of relief. Marinette rubbed her forehead assuringly. “I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”

“I’m glad,” the kwami beamed. “You really are perfect to be Ladybug.”

“Thanks.”

A soft knock from above interrupted them and both looked up to see a gloved hand tapping lightly on her hatch. Tikki smiled, whispered a few words of encouragement, before disappearing, even though it probably wasn’t necessary because of what they suspected he knew. Marinette took a steadying breath. She climbed up to the outdoor hatch before joining him outside.

The sun had set a couple of hours ago and once more Paris sparkled with life. It was a gentle glow that came from below but she could still see the distant orange haze of most of the city and the Eiffel Tower lit to its brightest at night. The air was much cooler than it had been the previous week. She was glad she’d allowed Alya to talk her into wearing the hoodie; it shielded her enough against the gentle breeze that danced over them.

Chat Noir smiled. His mouth dropped when he realized what she was wearing and she silently thanked Alya for the advice. She could visibly seem him swallow nervously and wring his hands behind his back. A seductive smile crossed her lips, “Good evening Chaton.” She sauntered over to him, tugging lightly on the sides of her hood. I’m in charge. Marinette is in charge. This is going to work. Chat Noir is going to fall so hard for you. You wore the matching bra and underwear for this exact reason.

He knew that this was part of what she’d been laughing about early in the day. He knew this. Yet his best to guard against it, to come prepared with his own plan, was immediately destroyed by the adorable, nearly-sexy way she came at him.

She was going to be in charge and he didn’t care.

“Good evening purrincess,” he breathed. He pulled his hand from behind him where he’d been hiding a small bouquet of flowers. “For you.” She took them, breathing deeply. Looking up at him, she cast him a bright smile, clutching the bottom of the pink roses.

“They’re lovely Chat!” He rubbed the back of his neck. He adverted his eyes as a light blush appeared under his mask. If this was being led by the nose, then he was happy to be.

“You’re welcomed.”

Marinette placed the roses on her table. She had a small CD player already there, something Alya helped prepare beforehand, and she hit play, allowing the waltz music to start softly. Chat smiled, offering his hand this time. She accepted it. As he had last week, he pulled her closer, before leading her into the dance. Both of their confidence levels soared. Marinette smiled knowing that he was there for her, her not Ladybug, and that she had managed to gain some powers over his emotions prior to their dance. Chat relished in the feel of her. She fit against him like a puzzle piece; everything was perfect and he was constantly assaulted by the smell of sweetness that came off of her even though she was still mostly covered by the hoodie. He lead her into a couple of spins. She smiled confidently each time. As she did, she could see Chat, wearing a tuxedo instead of his suit, smiling at her in return, and her in her dress, twirling magnificently each time; all eyes would be on them of course because it would be hard for anyone to miss how perfect they were together. It amazed her that she’d missed it for so long. He pulled her back in and continued to the right.

At one point, he silently reached up and pushed the hood off of her head, allowing the gentle breeze to cool her face and brush her hair a little bit forward. She had it down to accommodate the hood. His face blushed again. She’d never worn her hair down in front of him before; ever since he’d met her, it had always been pigtails. She chuckled at his expression.

“What’s wrong Chaton? Cat got your tongue?” He grimaced.

“Waltz the matter is your paws-itively horrible pun.” A gentle gloved finger reached up as they continued to move to brush some of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Mari’s face heated up a bit as well. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down before. You always have it in pigtails.”

“My mom’s doing. She started putting me in pigtails when I was younger. We tried a couple of other hairstyles along the way but pigtails were just easier to do so, I kept them.”

“You should do the other ones. I’d love to see them.” She smirked up at him.

“Be careful Chat. You might accidentally give yourself away if I start making changes.” He swallowed. She didn’t need to explain. Adrien was going to lose his shit if Mari showed up with a new hairstyle and automatically rat himself out. At that point, he would be pretty sure that he’d say to hell with the rules, and kiss her furiously, even if it resulted in a slap or worse. The first song came to an end and they stopped with it. Chat bowed to her while she curtseyed. Another song started but Mari stopped him from taking her in another dance. “I know I need to build my stamina but let’s have a snack first. Wait right here.” She turned and went back to her room. She and Alya had stashed a cooler there with two quiches inside of it which she now pulled out. Tikki shot her a smile before she disappeared outside again. Chat helped her up this time. He cleared her hands and sat the food on the table, his mouth watering instantly. She chuckled at his expression, motioning to a seat. He wasted no time in sitting and picking one up to shove in his mouth. He nearly purred.

“My Lady, you know me so well! These are my favorite!” Both of them flinched and Chat appropriately looked abashed. “Ah- I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.” Marinette sighed but smiled softly at him.

“I already knew Chat.” He blinked.

“You- you knew?”

“Yeah. I kinda figured it out after you- well, after you started acting weird when we danced on the viewing platform.” He flinched again. His ears drooped and he looked like a genuinely sad kitten.

“I’m sorry Mari. I….”

She laughed. Reaching out a hand, she ruffled his hair, scratched an ear, before leaning back in her seat. He blushed scarlet. Staring at her offered him no answer for her sudden behavior. Mari pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them, and tucked her chin onto her knees. She looked off into the distance as she said, “I’m not… I’m not mad Chat. I know why you started talking to me. As Ladybug, I was really… not distant but professional? Yeah, professional. I pushed you away a lot for the last year. I mean, sure, I was worried when I figured out you knew who I was but I eventually came to realize that I was actually alright with it. In fact, I feel better knowing that you know.” She lazily drew circles on the table next to her. Chat watched as her face got redder and redder. “I-uh- well, you see, I had someone I liked and I felt guilty about you liking me when I liked him which I guess would be the other reason I kept a strong line between us.”

“So what happened?”

“Uh?”

“What happened? Did he break your heart?” She smiled but shook her head.

“I’m not using you as fall back Chat.” He blinked before chuckling. Of course she would be able to pinpoint exactly what he was starting to worry about. He heard her words but there was still a tiny, painful tickle near his heart. A quick swallow dosed it for a bit. “Look, I put him on a pedestal and I would be completely lying if I said it didn’t hurt for a bit when he admitted to liking someone else but… but what it really did was free me. I’ve liked him for so long but I realized that all I was doing was putting him on this impossible pedestal.”

“Did you talk to him?”

She chuckled darkly. “No. I couldn’t. I always seemed to turn into a stuttering mess when it came to him.” A sigh escaped her lips. “I’m sorry Chat. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.” He eyed her.

“How this was supposed to go?” She turned scarlet before nodding.

“I wanted this night to be a good night for you.” And me. Really, for both of us. I wanted this to work with all my heart but I messed it up didn’t I?

He swallowed, reaching out to grab the hand that still made circles on the table. It stopped her. Mari’s eyes turned to meet his and he could see the signs of wetness in them. She was trying so hard to hold herself together. At that moment, he saw the truth: she really had wanted this to work. He wasn’t a fall back for a broken heart. She wasn’t a broken, injured damsel in need of a new knight to save her. She was a warrior princess looking for an equal warrior prince to be with her. She wasn’t so easy. She had standards. She respected herself, and him, enough to not let that happen. The full force of how much he liked her smacked into him hard. It took all of his energy to control himself.

“Marinette,” he breathed, “I believe you. This night has been amazing. I’ve had fun and I respect you so much for being strong. I know- I know rejection isn’t easy but you’ve been doing it and showing just how strong you are.” He pulled the hand he held to his lips. A gentle kiss on the back resulted in her nearly falling out of her chair. Her heart was pounding and she didn’t know if he could hear it. “We’ll… let’s take it slow. We don’t have to make any decisions tonight.” He stood, pulling her up as well. “For now, you should go to bed. School starts bright and early in the morning. Don’t want to be late.” She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Good night, Marinette.”

“Night Chat.” He released her hand and pulled out his baton, taking off into the night. Marinette ran to the edge of her balcony, watching him disappear into the darkness of the evening, before crumpling to the ground and crying.

****

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#mlfanfiction #shall we dance?#thedragonwrites #I had to do it #Mari needed to break because why not?

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angelzfurys · 6 years

Text

Enter Stage Right Happy Reunion

Written for a kink meme fill

I'd adore someone immensely if I could please have some Jared or Misha returning from service overseas and surprising Jensen (he's home early, didn't say he was coming). Maybe Jensen is a student/teacher and Jared/Misha surprises him in a lecture/outside his class/in the quad/at a football game. Maybe he's a barista and Jared/Misha orders *his* drink that no one else in the world could possibly order it's so horrible. You can trawl the interwebz for video ideas if you want to bawl your eyes out too! I just want some schmoop!

Not beted so all mistake are mine and I am sure there are some. Please comment to tell me how I did.

Enter Stage Right Happy Reunion

Jensen has been Jeff’s TA for the past year and normally he likes the job, helping budding young drama students find their confidence and their voice and fulfill their dreams as well as sometimes knocking down a few egos before they get too big and giving helpful advice on agents and how to be the best actors they can be. But today is different. Today is not a good day and he is doing his best not to let it show and have a meltdown.

It started with his morning video chat. A video chat he did not get. His boyfriend Jared was a marine and had been deployed overseas for the past eighteen months with two week long visits over that time. His deployment was about to be over and he would be home very soon. In fact it was this chat that he was supposed to learn exactly when Jared would be home. He hoped that Jared would tell him he’d be home for Christmas which was just weeks away. To make up for not being together physically Jared was allowed to video chat with him for up to an hour every other week. They worked out that mornings before Jensen went to class would be best because it was evening in Afghanistan and Jared would be just about to go to his evening meal. Unless the equipment was broken or they were training or in the field (which on all count rarely happened at the appointed time of the chat) Jared was always faithful in his appearance on the large laptop screen. But today he hadn’t been. The equipment wasn’t broken because Jensen had seen that the connection went through, it was just that no one answered. No one. If the connection was fine someone should have answered, most likely the on duty officer or a tech. This worried Jensen but after waiting and not getting anything he had shut down his laptop and prepared to go to school.

His morning ritual always started with coffee, at least two or three cups at home, followed by a grande from the little café to go with the raspberry scone he just couldn’t live without and was so flaky and fluffy served warm from the oven it was like eating a slice of heaven. Alas his bad day followed him to the café. Traffic was backed up from the bad weather and he got there a little later than usual so his usually hot out of the oven scone would be cold. However they were completely out of scones, all flavors, and he didn’t have the time to wait for them to make more because someone had ordered the next two batches that would be cooked. Misha the owner with a gleam in his eyes had offered to core the center out of a bran muffin and fill it with raspberry preserve instead but he declined trying not to wince at the thought of that concoction.

Finally pulling into the campus parking lot he cursed as there was a car in his usual spot. The TA’s were granted passes to park just after teacher parking so that they would be closer to the buildings and everyone knew that Jensen always parked in this spot. It was a rental because there was a tag on the license plate and Jensen wrote it down to report it to security accept when he passed it on the way to the auditorium where class was being held today he noticed a parking tag in the window. So he couldn’t turn the car in after all and with the way his day was going he wouldn’t be able to find the owner before the owner left and mention that that particular spot was his.

When he got into the auditorium and made his way to the stage office it was dark. Class would be starting in a few minutes and Jeff was nowhere in sight. After unlocking the door and turning on the lights he noticed the office was full of props, equipment, costumes, Christmas decorations and just plain old junk. He had to settle for putting his bags in Jeff’s chair for now and hoping that Jeff wouldn’t need it later. There was a note on the desk with his name on it and he sighed as he read it.

Jensen,

Sorry about the mess he had to do some rearranging over the weekend. I’ll be late so start the class without me. Make sure that everything is set up and have the kids start on act 2 scene 2. They need some work on it.

Don’t take any shit from them,

Jeff

Jensen looked around and groaned because some of the stuff in the office was for what Jeff wanted practiced. The college was putting on a production of A Christmas Carol just in time for holiday break. The particular scene Jeff wanted mentioned was when the ghost of Christmas present was showing Scrooge his nephew Fred’s Christmas party. He thought that the students had it down, it didn’t look so bad the last time they ran through it but if Jeff wanted it done he’d do it. He started pulling the things he’d need for it that he could see were in the office out into the back stage keeping it behind the sets so that those could be moved around.

Not long after he started the bell rang and he looked out to the chairs where the audience sat to see all the students either sitting or milling about in groups. He left his work to take center stage while everyone found their seats at last.

“Jeff is running a little late today” he started and saw some of the students smile at the thought of slacking off no doubt but he corrected them. “But he left you all an assignment to do. We’ll start today with act 2 scene 2, the Party of Fred with Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present. The rest of you not in the scene help me get things in order while your main players get dressed. Not in full costume please just outer wear as I am sure Jeff will want something different when he gets here.” Jensen turned back to getting the office in order and the necessary things out confident that the students would do as they were told. When he had first become Jeff’s TA it was a lot harder, the students didn’t much like having a TA not much older or more experienced than they were and he hadn’t had the best confidence in himself then and it showed, the students using it as a weak point to ignore him. But with Jeff’s guidance he had worked it all out and now former, current and hopeful future students to come would follow his orders and direction and woe be to those who didn’t.

It took longer to get everything set up and all the players on stage as for some reason the students had seemed to revert back to the behavior and skills they had when they had first started this class. Jensen was sure that he would be weeping and pulling his hair out in frustration at the same time when school was finally over. As it was he was getting a headache and for the life of him couldn’t find the first aid kit with the aspirin. He just hoped that Jeff would arrive soon and take over and stop him from going into a total melt down.

When he finally spotted Jeff coming in the door of the auditorium half way through class he sagged with relief “thank god!” he muttered before trying to get to Jeff. However Jeff waved him off when he saw Jensen’s move to get away from the stage. Instead of helping Jensen or taking over he just wandered to the middle of the last isle of the first staging of seats and plopped down. Jensen began to panic as Jeff just watched the students continually mess up their fourth take on the scene they were acting out. Why hadn’t Jeff stopped the students? Why hadn’t he asked what was going on? Why was he just letting them carry on? Was he testing Jensen’s ability to lead? Did he think that Jensen was so incapable of controlling the students that he was going to let him go for not making sure the students were perfect? He was sure he was going to hyperventilate any moment when Jeff stood up after a few minutes and approached the stage.

“Alright I see some of you must have had a very cray weekend to be fumbling this up. So let’s all take a moment, look over the script, take a moment to unwind and let’s start this scene again from the top in five.” Jeff turned to Jensen then and instead of the frown Jensen had been expecting Jeff was smiling. “I need you to set up two long tables on our rolling rolling meadow when the kids are busy” Jeff instructed and turned away before Jensen could reply or apologize for not having things better under control.

Jensen was beyond confused as Jeff turned away from him and went back to his seat. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly before going into the back staging area to do what Jeff had ordered. The rolling rolling hills were just that. A small setting made to look like rolling hills on a rolling platform for easy maneuverability. In the center was a flat piece in which the performers were to stand. It was big enough that two long thin plastic tables could be set up. Most of the time the tables were covered or held up another props or background scenery. Since Jeff hadn’t said what they would be needing the tables for and since the play didn’t call for a use of the rolling rolling hills Jensen left the tables bare. When he returned to the stage the students were again taking up their places and were about to start. Jeff waved him over at last and Jensen went to join him as the students began. He sat next to Jeff and split his time watching the students, again making many mistakes and watching Jeff to see his reaction. Jeff showed nothing of what he was thinking just watched the students. After they were half way through the scene Jeff stopped them and had them start over. Jeff said nothing to Jensen and Jensen was too nervous to say anything to him. With the way the day was going he was afraid of anything being said at this point by any parties.

When Jeff stopped the students for the second time class was most of the way over and nothing productive had gotten done, the students were just as bad as when they had started. Jensen was so lost in thought as to what was going on that they would be this way when last week they had been almost flawless that he took a second to realize that Jeff was speaking to him.

“Wait, what?” Jensen blinks trying to process what Jeff just told him.

“You know the whole thing and I know you have the range to do it. Show these kids how it’s really done, plus third time is the charm” Jeff slaps him on the shoulder.

It clicks in Jensen what Jeff wants just then and he wants to sink into the floor. Jeff wants him to go up and play the part of Scrooge perfectly. And Jeff is right Jensen does know the play forwards and backwards and could recite it in his sleep, and his acting range is exceptional. It ought to be after acting since high school, taking Jeff’s class himself and being the TA for so long. Doesn’t mean he wants to do it though. However all eyes are on him and everyone is waiting and he decides what the hell what is the worst that could happen. Maybe he’ll fall off the stage and break a leg, it is a possibility with such a shitty day.

He makes it up to the stage as Nick the student playing Scrooge takes off the long robe he was wearing as part of the costume. He puts it on hastily as Nick goes to join Jeff. When he is ready and all the students back in their beginning places he sees that Jeff has given Nick a camera out of the corner of his eye. As Jeff gives the que for the background party to start the little red light comes on. Just what Jensen needs a tape of what a failure this is going to be. Still he is a serious actor and will always give his best, so he centers himself and begins his performance that would make Jeff and even Jared proud if he was here.

For some reason, perhaps because Jensen is now acting with them or Jeff is filming them or a combination of both or something completely different everyone is getting their lies right, hitting their marks and entering on their ques just right. Everything is going so well until ithappens.

Jensen has just delivered his line about his nephew’s character in toasting him even if the party guests think so little of him and is holding his own cup of wine from the toast when the Ghost of Christmas Present speaks. It isn’t the correct lines but Jensen could care less as his grip tightens on his cup and he begins to tremble because it isn’t the right voice either. Not even close.

“It’s our que to go, aren’t you going to turn around?” The voice of the not Ghost of Christmas Present asks.

Jensen is shaking his head now, his body trembling so bad the cup falls from his fingers at the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. His eyes water and is vision blurs but he knows that everyone is staring at him.

“You know the Ghost of Christmas Present doesn’t like to be kept waiting and there is lots to see if you would just turn around. You are missing your lines too and that’s holding up the party.” The voice is spoken right next to his ear and he can feel the warm breath on his neck.

Jensen’s hands fly to his mouth to muffle the small sobs that are escaping and he hangs his head for a moment. A hand touches his back and he spins around to face the not Ghost of Christmas Present. Jared is standing there tall and proud, still in uniform with a big smile on his face and the Ghost of Christmas Present’s holly wreath crown on his head and vest robe hanging loose. Jensen launches himself at Jared then and Jared catches him scooping him up off the floor in a big bear hug before setting on his feet and just holding him close. Jensen is still making little chocking sobs with his head buried in Jared’s chest and Jared is stroking his hair and shushing him. Jensen finally comes back to himself a bit after a few moments to realize that he and Jared are center stage and everyone is cheering. He flushes red with embarrassment and tries to bury himself into Jared further to hide.

Jared just holds him until he can calm down enough to step back and stand on his own, his crying stopped and he wipes at the tear tracks on his cheeks to dry his face. The students have moved away and are setting something up. He looks over to see the rolling rolling hills pushed out on stage, the table laid out with food and drinks and right in front is a huge plate of scones, steam still coming off of them. Chairs and being set up and students are taking off costumes and putting them away.

“What are you doing here?” Jensen looks at Jared after taking in everything then flushes red again “not that I’m not happy to see you, I am really it’s just…I wasn’t expecting you for at least two weeks.”

“I go leave early and wanted to surprise you, I enlisted Jeff and Misha and the students and I can see it worked” Jared smiles at him his dimples out in full force.

Everything clicks into place for Jensen and he can see his who day in a new light. He never got to chat with Jared because Jared wasn’t at base he was here and no one answered because they would have to tell him that Jared wasn’t there on base. Misha didn’t have any scones because it seems Jared had ordered them all and the next few batches for the class and this little party. The students had messed up to give Jeff time go get Jared here and everything set up. And Jeff had not put him on the spot, okay well he had sort of, but just for setting him up so Jared could surprise him.

“You jerk you had me worried this morning, and I thought this was going to be the worst day ever because you stole my scones and turned my students against me.” Jensen narrowed his eyes and pretended to be mad at Jared, or at least he tried. He was just so happy and still a little bit in shock that it didn’t work.

“I may be a jerk, but I am your jerk and I am sorry I worried you. But I’m not sorry about your scones or your students” Jared reached out and pulled Jensen to him and hugged him again kissing his forehead before releasing him. “Let’s get some food and go somewhere a little less crowded.”

As they filled paper plates with food, Jensen taking twice as many scones as he usually ordered in the morning he thanked everyone who congratulated him on having Jared back. Taking their plates and cups of juice Jared had managed to snag they headed towards the stage office. It was clean enough for the desk to have enough room for their plates and cups, the lamp to shine weak light as the wall switch was covered and buried and for there to be a clear circle around the only chair left in the room.

Jensen was putting his plate down when he heard the door close. He looked up puzzled about to tell Jared they needed another char when Jared grabbed him and kissed him stealing all his breath away. After a few seconds of shock and his brain coming back online he kissed Jared back. It wasn’t gentle but desperate and he clutched at Jared as Jared held him close and ran his hands over Jensen’s back. They finally had to break apart for air which Jensen let out again in a squeak as Jared turned and sat down in the chair pulling Jensen with him to sit on his lap.

“Jared” Jensen whined as he turned his torso sideways and his face back to chastise him when Jared caught his lips in another kiss. This kiss was gentler but was still long and Jensen relaxed back into Jared by the time their lips separated.

Jared kept one arm around Jensen keeping him in place and grabbed food with his other hand and began feeding Jensen and himself, kissing between bites and occasionally taking drinks of juice. As their shared meal went on Jared’s hand that had been holding Jensen began to wander, unwrapping the rode to hang lose and shifting under cloths caressing his body. Jensen’s breathing picked up and he moaned between bites and into Jared mouth during kisses beginning to fidget as Jared touched him in all the right places. Jensen was getting aroused and could feel Jared getting just as aroused as he was, his cock pushing at Jensen’s ass through two layers of cloths.

“Jared” Jensen whined again but not moving away as the food was gone and Jared was unbuttoning and unzipping Jensen’s fly to reach inside his pants and palm his hard cock.

“Shush, quite” Jared whispered in his ear as his hand made it inside Jensen’s boxers to feel skin on skin and he wrapped his fingers around Jensen’s cock. His hands were rough and calloused from handling various weapons and working around the base. They were dry and the first few passes were rough before Jared’s fingers skimmed the head of Jensen’s cock collecting the moisture that had started to leak as soon as Jared had opened his pants. With slick fingers Jared slowly pumped Jensen’s cock, every few strokes gathering more moisture from the leaking head. As Jared’s hand got wetter with Jensen’s precome he stocked faster and squeezed and twisted near the head at random intervals. Jensen was panting now and kissing Jared constantly in between to cover his moans of pleasure. Jared himself had started rocking in the chair and it gave off little squeaks as he increased the friction to his own cock still trapped in his dress pants.

Shifting suddenly and grabbing Jensen with his free hand Jared lifted him and pulled his pants and boxers over his ass just enough to expose him before sitting back down with his legs and thus Jensen’s spread as wide as the confining cloths would let them. Jared went back to stroking Jensen’s cock but held up two fingers of his other hand to Jensen’s mouth.

“Suck” was all Jared said and Jensen leaned forward just enough to take the fingers into his mouth. Jensen sucked on them, swirling his tongue around and coating them with spit. When Jared pulled them out Jensen leaned back allowing his ass to tilt up a bit in anticipation of what was going to come. Jared made a trail of kissed down Jensen’s jaw to his neck as his newly slicked fingers circled Jensen’s balls and traveled to his entrance. Jared teased him a bit, circling his hole and putting just the tiniest bit of pressure there before backing off. Jensen let out a little growl and shifted a bit to move things along when Jared tightened his grip on Jensen’s cock and bit down on the base of his neck a bit. Jensen hissed but stayed still. When Jared released his neck and started stroking again he finally eased the tip of one finger into Jensen up to the second knuckle before drawing it out and then slowing pushing the finger back in this time all the way. After a moment Jared began slowly moving the finger in and out and moving it around a bit before adding his second spit slicked finger. Jensen hissed just a bit as Jared began to scissor his fingers. The spit was wearing thin and Jensen hadn’t had anything inside of him in at least two weeks maybe three if he could concentrate past the fingers in his ass and Jared’s strokes becoming faster and tighter. Jared pulled his fingers out and spit on them himself before thrusting them back in Jensen and Jensen moaned at the sensation as Jared brushed his prostate.

“Kiss me” Jared ordered and it was a bit awkward to turn with a man’s hand on your cock and fingers in your ass but Jensen did it anyway, Jared meeting him halfway. They kissed as Jared’s speed at both stoking Jensen’s cock and fingers rubbing his prostrate increased. Jensen keened into his kisses with Jared as he approached orgasm and felt his body seizing up, hole clamping down on Jared’s fingers as he came. Jared continued stroking him through his orgasm fingers messaging his prostate before pulling out and using a napkin from their plates to clean Jensen up and wipe off his fingers as Jensen came down from his orgasmic high.

When Jensen had recovered enough he felt Jared’s still hard cock against his now bare ass and slid to his knees on the floor spinning to look Jared in the eyes and laying his hands on Jared’s legs keeping them open. After a moment of staring and Jared getting the message not to move Jensen inched forward into the v of Jared’s legs. Caressing Jared’s thigh with one hand and keeps his eyes on Jared’s he used his other hand to find and open Jared pants. Then using one hand under each of Jared’s knees he pulled him even closer and to the edge of the chair. At last looking down and away from Jared’s eyes Jensen focused on the bulge of fabric holding Jared’s cock at bay. Jensen pulled the edge down and under the thick cock that sprang free making it rise a little as it held the fabric at bay. Then after licking his lips he lowered his head so that his lips just brushed the head of it and his breath ghosted over it. Jensen could feel Jared’s thighs tense under his hands and the cock under his lips gave a little twitch. Then with one smooth movement Jensen had his mouth open, lips covering his teeth and swallowed as much of Jared’s cock as he could at the first pass. He only got a quarter of the way down but used his tongue to lick as he slid back up and heard Jared let out a long hiss at the sensations. Using his tongue to swirl around the head and earn a moan this time before taking Jared down again getting half way.

Jensen hadn’t done this for some time not even with the cock shaped lollipop Jared had sent to him after his last visit so he knew he would be able to get all of Jared down this time but he could still be very good. Hallowing out his cheeks he sucked hard on his next pass up and hummed on his pass down. Jared was panting above him and he could hear the creak of the chair as Jared gripped the armrests tight to keep from grabbing Jensen’s head. Jensen allowed saliva to form in his mouth and drip down the rest of Jared’s cock before using a hand to wrap around what he couldn’t fit in his mouth and stroke as he alternated sucking with swirling his tongue around what he had in his mouth. He gave a few circles around Jared’s balls as he felt them draw up tight. He concentrated on sucking them as Jared orgasmed so that he could take every drop and not get any come on Jared’s dress pants. He was successful and liked Jared clean and tucked him back in as Jared came down from his own high.

They just sat there, Jensen’s head resting on one of Jared’s legs and Jared leaning back in the chair for a few minutes before Jared nudged Jensen to sit up. Jared stood up, fixed himself up the helped Jensen to stand, clean up a little more and make himself decent. Collecting their garbage with huge smiles on their faces and making sure Jensen had his bag they left the office. The auditorium was empty and everything put away accept a single bar stool center stage. On it was a USB and a folded piece of note paper. Jared picked up the USB while Jensen unfolded and read the note turning red as he did. Jared read over his shoulder and laughed when he was done. “I think we should do just that” Jared said taking the note and refolding it put it in his pocket with the USB before taking Jensen’s hand and leading him out of the auditorium.

To the starlet Jensen and his returning hero,

I have left you a copy of your little reunion on the USB for you and your family to enjoy for years to come. As for your encore performance I suggest you take it somewhere more private next time such as your own bedroom at home. I have told your other teachers you won’t be in class and I’ll get your assignments from them to you later. Try and get some rest tonight.

P.S. You should get some kind of reward for that last show.

Have fun,

Jeff

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