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rhine-gold-archive · 2 years

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sub!Diluc x Dom! gn! reader

Warnings: very much not safe for w, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, minors get out of here. But also, some unabashed fluff. Yes, it contains multitudes.

words: 3,2k.

A\n: This somehow turned into Diluc character study, but I promise I will get to the filth after the psychological profiling. also, I know I tend to write in an authoritative voice like I'm stating facts, but these are just my personal opinions and if you interpret characters differently, more power to you.

Listen, i know everyone hcs Diluc as a dom. And he can be a very nice service dom, but I’m here to convince you that sub!Diluc is actually not OOC.

First of all, he’s more repressed than a catholic nun. Diluc is like on six levels of dissociation at any given moment. He sees his body as a flesh suit he’s piloting that requires an inconvenient maintenance like sleep, food and occasional sexual release. He’ll jerk off by himself like it’s a chore.

Diluc is so touch starved it’s ridiculous, and *he doesn’t even know it*, that’s how much he’s disconnected from his needs.

And like. Helping ppl like that discover what they actually want and watching them come undone in pleasure they didn’t know they desired is so delicious. If you know, you know, there’s nothing quite like it.

But you have to go slow with him

I mean first of all, you shouldn’t mess with Diluc at all if you’re not in for a long haul, this man doesn’t do casual.

Oh, he’ll agree to try if he’s already into you, he’s incredibly indulging to the people he values. But also because at first he’ll be incredibly defensive.

Not because he’s not into it. Just as a defense mechanism, as he thinks he’ll disappoint you and he’s preparing for a failure from the start.

Diluc can see any activity with his important people as a trial where his performance will be evaluated. He is one of these “I need to get a good grade in X which is both normal to want and possible to achieve” people.

Remember the coffeeshop event where he was like “When I was a small child, my father told me to mix my first drink using all of the ingredients in the tavern. In hindsight, it was probably to see how creative I am and I must’ve failed because I just made a fruit punch and my father didn’t say if I did well”?

Like, Diluc. Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Your dad probably just wanted you to have fun in an improvised “take your kid to work” event. He didn’t judge your punch because it was about spending quality time together and letting you play with colorful syrups. Who the fuck would evaluate a small child’s creativity on the first time they mix drinks. You think he expected you to invent Pina Colada?

So yeah, he will see even getting edged as a thing he’s not proficient in, so he’s most likely to fail and disappoint you. And that’s one of the worst things he can imagine.

Because being useful is Diluc’s love language. If you read his voicelines or talk to him in teapot, you can notice how he’s very focused on doing things for you, like he’ll invent a drink specifically for you and keeps repeating that you should tell him if you need anything, but at the same time, he “doesn’t do chit chat” and wants to leave if there’s nothing for him to do.

Because Diluc knows he’s not easygoing or fun to be around. He has his charming brother who makes it seem effortless to compare himself with. He knows he’s kind of awkward, intense, brooding and direct to the point of coming off as rude. So he needs to feel like he’s doing something useful for you to justify spending time with you.

So for his first time, don’t tease him verbally. He’s incredibly teasable, I know. But he’s already very anxious about disappointing you even if he tries to hide it and he was conditioned to clamp up at the first sign of perceived mockery by his troll brother. Show him first how good it can feel before you start playing with him.

also, he obviously has a praise kink that he’s not even aware of. like, it’s not even up for discussion, praise from other people and approval from his dad are literally described as his main motivations

“The praise he received from his comrades and citizens spurred him on. But the words of praise he valued most of all were: "Good job. Now, that's my son." His father's words fueled the fire inside his heart and served as his greatest motivation.“ and sure, after he lost his dad and emotionally closed off, he doesn’t allow himself to rely on approval of others. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it.

You can tie his hands, but honestly I think it’s much more fun to just order him to keep his hands up. He’s so stubborn, it’ll be a matter of pride for him to keep his composure. And it will also make it that much more delicious to see it finally break.

When you tell him that he must ask for permission to finish, he just scoffs. He’s so sure he wouldn’t be reduced to that.

Don’t expect him to dissolve into stereotypical meowling and begging when you first start touching him. Again, he’s much too stubborn. He’s coming into this defensive and he wants to be in control of himself.

But hear me out - it actually makes it more fun to tease him. Diluc tries to keep himself still, but no amount of willpower will make him less sensitive and, again, touch starved to hell and back.

So at first, it’s the little things that betray him. How when you kiss his neck, his throat moves under your lips in a shaky intake of a breath, How the taut muscles of his scarred arms flex when you run your hands over his chest. How he draws in his stomach when you slide your fingers down it, slow, tantalizingly slow, making light patterns with just your fingertips. How he avoids your eyes because you haven’t even touched his cock yet and he’s already so obviously, painfully hard.

He has a beautiful cock, big and with a nice curve, and as for all pale redheads, it becomes brilliantly red when aroused. When you finally touch him, slowly stroking it up from the base to the tip, he draws in a breath through the clenched teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. You watch him struggle as you start pumping his dick faster and faster, his jaw clenching, his breath and heartbeat quickening, sweat beads forming on his forehead, his shoulders and hips flinching as he tries to keep himself from arching up and thrusting into your hand.

He’s fighting a losing battle and both of you know it by now. You could break him right here if you wanted. You squeeze and rub the sensitive tip of his cock, and see him open his mouth in a silent, chocked gasp for air. He manages to keep himself from clenching his fists, but his knuckles whiten when he desperately scraps his fingertips against the bedsheets.

But you don’t want him to feel like he lost a fight, it’s not about that, it was never about that. Even shame should feel good. You caress his high, sculpted cheekbones with your thumb, your other hand still on his cock. “‘Luc, look at me.”

He can’t disobey you, but he has to take a deep breath before he can open his eyes. He meets your gaze, anxious. What’s he going to see, mockery over how pathetically quick he’s breaking down? Disappointment for how bad and inexperienced he is at this? Just a cold, severe rejection?

“You look so beautiful, baby,” you tell him quietly and breath catches in his throat, his pupils widening, his cock twitching in your hand. You kiss the trail from his sharp jawline up to his ear, allowing him to turn away. “Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to keep going?" you smile warmly when he whips his head back to look at you and meet his dazed crimson eyes. “I just want you to feel good.”

This reframes the entire scene for him in a one fell swoop, turning it upside down, leaving him disoriented. It wasn’t a challenge that he was losing, or a trial that he was failing, him giving in to his desires was what you wanted all along? You enjoy seeing his pleasure, even if he’s not being useful to you in return? It seems impossible to him, yet when you look at him like this, when you touch him like this, like he’s precious and wanted, when he knows he’s broken and undeserving… it feels intoxicating and liberating at once, in a way he couldn’t imagine before. He realizes at this moment how badly he wants this, even if he still doesn’t understand how far he’s willing to go for it.

“I… ugh, I… like it,” Diluc swallows harshly, his mouth suddenly dry, and if you thought he was blushing before, now the pink dust on his cheeks turns into a brilliant scarlet glow, covering his face, neck and even top of his shoulders. He clearly wants to look away in embarrassment, but makes himself hold your gaze. “If you… enjoy this too and… want to go on…”

You rake your eyes over him, sprawled in front of you, and smile, meeting his gaze again. “Of course I enjoy it. You look so fucking hot like this.” his eyes widen and his lips part, you can feel his tip leaking in your hand, his entire body strung up like a bowstring. He doesn’t know what to answer and he couldn’t talk even if he did, so when you lower your head down to kiss him he answers eagerly, with passion and gratitude he can’t express in words. You start pumping his cock again, now faster and with a firmer grip, and drink in his abrupt gasp against your mouth, as he freezes for a second and then returns the kiss with twice the abandon. This time he doesn’t try to fight it, his body trembling under you, his hips bucking up to meet your hand, his hands closing into fists, toes curling.

He breaks the kiss when you twist your palm against his pulsing tip, and he cries out, low and strangled, his entire body arching up, but his unfocused eyes find yours immediately, his gaze frantic, almost feverish. He’s going far outside his comfort zone, he’s relinquishing control and he’s so unused to this, he trained himself for years to do the opposite of this, to see it as a failure, so he needs your repeated reassurance to soothe his anxiety, to prove he didn’t imagine your desire few moments ago.

You lean down to him without breaking eye contact. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re being so good for me.”

It shoots through him, bypassing the brain entirely, through the entire nerve system and right down to the cock, like only discovering a kink you were entirely oblivious to before can. His body goes rigid and he comes, with a choked, shuddering groan.

You stroke him through it, until he limply falls back on the bed, spent and panting. He reaches for you and you let him pull you in, hold him while he’s coming back to his senses, run fingers through his soft hair. When he opens his eyes, he looks at you with a small, almost sheepish smile, and it’s impossible to resist kissing him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stroking his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers immediately, then realizes how it sounds and tries to correct. “I mean, I’m better than fine. I’m... I feel good.”

You chuckle and his eyes flicker to watch your mouth, then throw you a glance from under half-lowered lids. It’s enjoyable seeing him open like this, but what you really want is seeing him come undone. He doesn’t look tired and you know he can go on for much longer, but today it’s more a question of mental state than stamina.

“You want to go for another round?” you ask softly him and he blushes lightly.

“Well, I did technically… um, break a promise to ask for permission in the end,” he says with the same small smile that grows even more sheepish as he tries to avoid admitting he desperately wants more. “So it’s only fair if I remedy that.”

“Oh, of course. Honorable as always. So noble of you, Master Diluc,” you run your fingers over his abs, spreading cum all over them, and his brilliant blush returns in full force. But he doesn’t stop smiling, trusting your good intentions, that you’re mocking the hierarchy of ranks and not him personally. You kiss the corner of his mouth to reassure him, and his smile grows wider.

“Well, you can’t be successful in the commercial trade if you’re not answering for your obligations,” he says, trying and failing to keep a straight face. He really does recover very quickly, you think, if he can already banter. “The Wine Guild would kick me out if they learned I’d backed down on a deal.”

“Well, at least I know I can complain to the Wine Guild if you misbehave then,” your voice is still light, but you catch his chin and lift it up firmly, and he tenses up immediately.

He looks up at you, eyes intense as always, but now glittering in anticipation and tracking your every move, bangs tousled and lips parted for you to claim. You kiss him, messily, greedily, slide your fingers to the back of his head and pull on his hair, forcing him to expose his throat for you. You leave the trail of sloppy kisses and scraped teeth down from his jaw to the collarbones before you let go of his hair and allow him to collapse.

When your hand finds his cock, it’s already half-hard, throbbing. red. This time, you don’t go slowly, you grab it and start pumping it fast. He shudders, still so sensitive after a recent orgasm, and instinctively tries to close his legs.

You don’t force them open, instead, you catch his chin and meet his eyes again. “No,” you say slowly. “Open up for me.”

The thing about Diluc is that he doesn’t do anything by halves if he sets his mind to it. Once he opens up, he burns for you with the same single-minded dedication as he does fighting enemies in the night. He might not know how to ask for help, pleasure or affection, but he sure knows how to give and to give everything he’s got. Do not ask to have him if you want anything less than the whole.

He grits his teeth, his eyes smoldering crimson, and forces himself to spread his legs again, against his basic reflexes. The touch to his overstimulated dick is painful and igniting at the same time, it feels equal parts wrecking and delightful.

You smile and praise him and pump him even harder and faster than before, and he trashes in front of you, muttering a litany of half-choked curses, throwing his head from side to side, hands clawing at the sheets, thighs shaking, but staying open.

You asked for him and you shall have him, no matter what.

It’s still not enough for you, though.

You sprawl on your side against him, circling one arm around his shoulders, still stroking him with the other. The fight goes out of him. He blindly leans into you, trembling, a small whine caught in his throat. When you kiss him, his mouth is soft and pliant, but his hands clutch at you desperately, like a drowning man trying to hold on to the solid ground.

It drives you crazy to watch him writhe under you, completely unravelled, glowing brightly from feverish desire, scarlet silk of his tangled hair sprawled on the sheets, his hips bucking frantically into your hand.

You whisper sweet, tender praises to him, caress his face, neck and shoulders like he’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world, at the same time as your other hand relentlessly winds him up, squeezes his overstimulated, pulsing cock harshly, twists the leaking tip. The pain punctuates desire, a delirious contrast of torturously sweet and deliciously cruel.

His fingers dig into you, holding you close. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, clings to you, seeking comfort and shelter from the same sweet, unbearable torture that is also inflicted by you. The pleasure melts him, but the pain splits him open, wrecks him to the core, he wants this to end, and he wants this to never stop. More than anything, he wants to be yours.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re perfect,” you tell him and you mean it.

He breathes in through his mouth, drawing in your scent. “Please,” he gasps so quietly, you could’ve missed it if not for his lips moving against your neck. “Please, let me…please…”

Next time, you might demand more. Next time, you might make him spell it out completely, what exactly he begs you for. But this is his first time and he was already so brave for you.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been so fucking good. Come for me.”

He comes immediately and so hard, his entire body is shaking, the strangled scream caught in his throat. You keep stroking him, letting him ride it out through increasingly frantic and desperate thrusts, squeeze every last drop out of him until he collapses, limp and shivering, but still clinging to you.

You hold him, stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, whisper to him softly until he stops trembling and his breath evens out. You realize that he’s too weak now to get to the bath, so you stand up to get something to help, but he reaches out, catches your wrist immediately.

“It’s okay, I’ll be back in a second,” you promise. After you clean him up with a wet cloth, he pulls you in and curls around you so possessively and needy, you can’t help but smile. He’s fighting a losing battle to stay awake, the endless sleepless nights finally catching up with him, now that he lowered his guard for a moment and let his body feel alive. But there’s one thing he needs to ask, suddenly apprehensive now that the rush of lust passed.

“Did you… Was I… Ugh, damn. Would you perhaps?..” he stumbles over his words, not knowing how to phrase his concern that he wasn’t good enough for you and you just indulged him. You stop him mercifully.

“I *did* enjoy it. You *were* incredible. And yes, I would very much love to do this again.”

“Oh,” he says, relaxing against you, the same precious small smile appearing on his face again, now more content than sheepish. You chuckle, stroking his face.

“Besides, you did break my order to keep your hands up. You’ll have to suffer the punishment, or the Wine Guild will need to hear about this.”

He snorts indignantly and blushes at the same time. For the first time in many, many nights he falls asleep with a light heart and a smile still tugging at his lips.

a\n: I had fun writing this, so I might make this into sub!character series. Not taking specific requests per se, but you can let me know which adult genshin characters you’d be interested to hear my take on, both male and female.

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #genshin impact #i had to construct an enite psych profile for diluc for another meta post #and barely used evn half of it #so i thought to hell with it lets have some fun #btw short sleeves in birthday art?#plus 50 sub energy sorry i don't male the rules #rhine writes filth

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purrincess-chat · 7 years

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Lady du Coeur CH16

*dusts off cobwebs* Hey, I’m still writing this btw. It’s been a while. Hope you’re not too upset with me. I’m very meh about this chapter, but it’s necessary, and I planned it, and it gets the ball rolling for other stuff and things, so...here ya go.

Also, Happy Birthday to this fic! Today marks the day I posted the first chapter on FF!

FF | AO3

Volpina’s Return

“Ugh!” A frustrated growl sounded behind Adrien, and he heard the familiar zip of Ladybug’s yoyo followed by the tap of her feet hitting the floor.

“I take it your reconnaissance mission went well,” He called with a smirk, spinning around in his chair as she detransformed.

“Don’t test me, I’m pissed off enough to actually hit you,” She snarled through clenched teeth. “I just spent the last hour talking to the police about this stupid imposter situation.”

“Yeah, she’s really been after your image lately. Crashing birthday parties, helping thieves escape, graffiti on national monuments…You’re on someone’s hit list.” Adrien tapped his chin.

“I swear when I find out who’s behind this I’m going to feed them their own ass-”

“Whoa there, Yeager. Let’s dial back the bloodthirst for the titans and think about this.” He held up defensive hands.

“Did you just reference anime at me?” Her eyes narrowed, and he rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “I need to hit something.”

“I’ve got you covered,” He said, holding up a finger before taking her hand and leading her down to the gym where a punching bag hung from the ceiling. Adrien opened the closet and rolled out the dummy he practiced on during his karate lessons. “Go nuts.”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and as she reared back to strike, Adrien stepped forward with an apologetic wince. “What?” She huffed.

“No, nothing, just, tiny tip…thumb on the outside of your fist, or you will break it,” He advised, gently pulling her thumb out before stepping aside and letting her loose.

He watched in horror with Tikki as she punched and kicked the sac unceasingly while Plagg looked on with a wide grin. Slowly, he backed out of the room, careful not to disturb her, and returned a few minutes later with a thermos of water. She stayed at it for a while, pounding her fists into the material until sweat poured from her face and her shoulders shook with the exertion it took to breathe.

“You should drink,” He offered gently, extending her the thermos which she snatched immediately. Sweat dripped down her cheeks as she gulped down the ice cold water then sat back on the mat. Her breaths were still labored as she surveyed her bloody, shaking knuckles.

“I should have given you gloves,” He said, examining them. “I didn’t realize you were gonna go all out like that. I’ll go get something to wrap them with.”

“Thanks,” She panted, taking another swig of her drink. He returned a moment later from the closet with a first-aid kit and knelt beside her once more. She surrendered her hands, watching intently as he worked.

“Feeling any better?” Adrien asked, spraying an anti-septic on the wounds. Marinette winced and pulled back with a hiss, but quickly surrendered them once more.

“No,” She grumbled, glaring in the other direction as he began to wrap a cloth bandage around her knuckles.

“Can’t say I blame you,” He remarked. “I’m even a little angry for you.”

“I just wish we could catch her,” She sighed, leaning back once he finished.

“I know. Me too.” He brushed a strand of her hair from her face, and she leaned into his touch.

“Will you do something for me to take my mind off of things?” She asked after a moment, and he felt his heart skip a whole beat.

“Uh, y-yeah! Anything!” He replied eagerly.

“Teach me how to fight,” She requested, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“You know how to fight already,” He chuckled pointedly.

“I know how to fight as Ladybug, but Marinette could use some pointers.” She shrugged. “You do all kinds of stuff as Adrien, fencing, martial arts, sports…I can barely walk across flat surfaces without falling.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want…” He stood up and headed over to the closet again, sifting through some of his gi. “You could probably fit in one of my old ones.”

“Are you making fun of my height?” She folded her arms over her chest as he held up a top to compare size.

“I would never.” He shook his head, laying the shirt over her shoulder and riffling through the pants.

“You’re lucky I like you,” She said, glaring playfully as he sized up a pair of pants for her.

“It’s what I count on for survival every time I crack a joke.” He winked, stepping out and pulling the door shut while she changed.

“Adrien!” She called after a couple minutes, peaking out as he fastened his belt.

“What?” He cocked a brow.

“How do I tie the belt?” She stepped out with her robe undone, exposing her bare stomach and hot pink sports bra, and Adrien felt his face go three shades darker.

“You just, um,” He cleared his throat and adjusted the top to cover her properly before tying the belt securely around her waist.

“It’s still too big,” She whined, holding up the sleeves that extended well passed her hands. “Can I just take it off-”

“No!” He said quickly, and she gave him a look. “It’s disrespectful, Mari.”

“Okay…” She gave him an inquisitive look as she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows.

“So, what do you wanna learn?”

“Teach me how to kick butt!” She punched the air enthusiastically, and he suppressed an eye roll.

“Karate is only to be used for self-defense, ya know,” He lectured, but she was too busy throwing fake punches and kicks.

“I’ll be defending myself when I kick this fox’s butt,” She said determinedly.

“Okay.” He pinched the bridge of his nose briefly before deflecting her hands and pulling her into a headlock. She squealed in protest, but he kept his hold loose.

“The first rule of karate is to clear your mind. Relax and focus.”

“I am focused,” She grunted, attempting to break free, but he tightened his grip.

“Purge all selfish and evil thoughts,” He murmured soothingly as she continued to wiggle and kick against his shins.

“Okay, fine, teach me how to fight!” She ordered, but he held on, wrapping his free arm around her waist and lifting her up. “Adrien!”

“You must be calm and humble in order t- oof!” Mari kicked her legs up causing Adrien to rock forward to counter her weight which gave her footing enough to throw him over her shoulders. He landed square on his back with a gasp, and Mari sat on his stomach and pinned him to the mat.

“Can your clear mind do that?” She beamed, and Adrien took a deep breath.

“Fine,” He wheezed. “You wanna spar? Let’s spar.” He pulled the loose fabric from her gi over her head and rolled her to the side while she struggled, pining her arms down as soon as she broke free.

“That’s cheating!” She growled accusingly, blue eyes narrowing into a glare.

“You don’t wanna follow the rules, so neither will I.” He grinned tauntingly, and her lips pursed in thought.

“Well, if that’s how we’re gonna play…” She hiked up her knee, and in a split second, Adrien guessed her plan and dodged just in time to divert her knee to his inner thigh instead of the target she was aiming for.

“No!” He gasped, and Marinette shoved him over when he became off balanced. “That was dirty and low!”

“I thought that’s what we were playing.” She smirked, and his eyes narrowed.

“It’s on,” He declared, losing all of his confidence when she tore the gi from her torso and tossed it aside. His cheeks, as well as another region, burned, and he averted his gaze quickly. “What are you doing?”

“It’s hot in that thing, and it restricts my movement,” She said, fanning herself.

“I’m not going to fight you naked,” He scoffed, turning to the side.

“I’m not naked! I have a bra on, you wimp.”

“Put your gi back on!”

“No,” She grunted, pacing toward him. “Man up and fight me.”

“You’re being cruel.”

“How is this any different from the bikini models in your photoshoot? I’m more covered than they are!” She held out her arms in exasperation.

“That’s different,” He mumbled.

“How?”

“Because I don’t feel anything when I see them!” He shot back.

“Why do you have to bring your dick into this?” She slapped her palm to her forehead.

“I can’t help that I’m attracted to you!”

“Ugh!” She threw her head back with a groan. “You’re such a baby. What am I gonna do with you?”

“Don’t pretend like I didn’t catch you ogling over my swim shoot a couple weeks ago,” He said pointedly.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of it again.” Her eyes narrowed into slits.

“I made no such promise. You’re a pervert.” He smirked, but it was short-lived as she tackled him to the ground a second later.

“Don’t push me, Agreste,” She cooed in his ear when she pinned him face down on the mat.

“But it’s so fun to push you. It’s kind of what we do,” He mumbled, voice distorted from the force with which she had him pinned.

“Fine, but don’t blame me when you get hurt.”

Adrien managed to shake her off, but she retaliated quicker than he did, charging at him again the moment he got up. He caught her easily and lifted her feet from the ground. To counter, she wrapped her legs around his waist and flipped backwards, forcing him to roll over her.

They sparred like that for a while, wrestling each other to the ground, breaking free, rolling around as their grunts and yelps filled the room. It all came to an end when Adrien got Marinette in a tight headlock, and no matter how many times she kicked his shins, he wasn’t letting go.

“Give up yet?” He asked as she gasped for air.

“No!” She coughed.

“Tap out, and I’ll stop.”

“No!” Within a minute, he felt her body go limp, and he let go and held her up until she came to a moment later. She surged forward, clutching her gut and coughing raggedly.

“Seriously?” He panted. “Why didn’t you tap o-”

She flew at him once more, and he held up his hands to defend himself which proved to be a big mistake as he found himself clutching her left breast which he quickly released with an embarrassed squawk, making himself easy prey for her to roll over and pin securely face-down on the mat with a firm grip on his hair and left leg which she pulled toward her. His pained squeaks echoed through the room, and she smirked.

“Mari! My leg doesn’t bend that way!” He squealed.

“Tap out then,” She chuckled, and he slapped the ground twice without hesitation. He breathed a sigh of relief when she let go and rolled him over to sit on his stomach.

“I win.” She beamed.

“You’re insane,” He panted, leaning his head back and spreading his arms out. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back through his gi as he caught his breath.

“And you’re afraid of boobs,” She shot back playfully, wiping sweat from her lip.

“I’m not afraid of boobs!” He groaned.

“Just my boobs.”

“No!” He sighed. “Just…those feelings don’t really have a place between us right now.”

She sobered and let her gaze drop to his chest where she fiddled with his gi. It was an expression he’d learned to pick out on her quickly because it was the same face she wore every time it got brought up. Guilt. He patted her leg and offered up a smile.

“Don’t beat yourself up. I just don’t want to pressure you,” He said softly.

“Maybe if…” She started, biting her lip. “If things calm down. If we can catch the fox…then maybe we can try again.”

“Okay.” Adrien nodded, and she climbed off of him and pulled him up.

“Thanks for letting me beat you up,” She said, offering up a small smile.

“Any time, Bug.” He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked. “Just don’t tell anyone you beat me because I panicked about grabbing your boob.”

“I make no promises.”

Chloe

Out of all the drama that she’d left behind when deciding to change herself for the better, there was one thing in particular that had never quite mended properly but instead remained a poorly stitched wound that occasionally flared up when things got heated. Of course, she should have expected as much as it was the person she’d been closest to, and therefore, the victim of a majority of Chloe’s less-than-polite mannerisms. But as Chloe sat at a small café, swirling her latte with a coffee stirrer awaiting her arrival, she couldn’t help but reflect on all the good times they shared and wondered if things could ever be that way again.

She was talking about Sabrina. Her ex-best friend who went to therapy to help cope with years of enduring Chloe’s crap. It was doing wonders for her. She was becoming less of a push-over, and even branching out and making friends of her own. Turns out people had more sympathy for the misguided best friend than they did for the terror reigning over her. In a way, Chloe was happy for her because Sabrina was one wrong she regretted most. And she missed her.

“Ahem.” At the sound of a throat clearing, Chloe turned to see the small ginger standing with her hands clasped in front of her, lips pursed in a hesitant pout. “Hello, Chloe.”

“Hey, Sabrina.” Chloe winced under her accusing glare. “Would you like to sit? I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“With what money?” Sabrina scoffed, but she sat down anyways. “What do you want?”

Chloe sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course she’d be skeptical as to why Chloe asked her to meet here. It’s not like they’d exactly talked much in the last 6 months, and when they had spoken it was always less than cordial. Sabrina still carried a grudge, and Chloe’s apology had been half-hearted at best when Marinette forced her to make her rounds. Maybe because Sabrina’s betrayal had angered her the most, and at the time, she wasn’t quite over it herself, not that she ever admitted it to anyone out loud. Things were different now. She was different.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” Chloe started calmly, taking a sip of her coffee to give her hands something to do.

“Better now that I’ve removed a toxic person from my life,” She countered with a haughty smirk. This was going about as well as Chloe expected.

“I’m happy to hear that,” She said with the politest smile she could muster. Holding her tongue was one thing she hated about being nice, but she’d already ripped into Sabrina enough over the years, so she supposed this was well-deserved. Sabrina pursed her lips and leaned forward with a critical glare.

“Why did you invite me here today, Chloe? Was there something you wanted?” She demanded, and Chloe let out a breath.

“Yeah, actually. I wanted to apologize. Again. But properly this time,” She admitted, rubbing the back of her neck, a nervous tick she’d picked up from Adrien it seemed. “You and I used to be so close, and I took you for granted. Something I didn’t realize until you left, and I was left to scrape up the pieces on my own. You really did a lot for me, and I just wanted to thank you for putting up with me for so long. I don’t blame you for leaving me.” She let out another breath and met Sabrina’s gaze head-on. “I’m really sorry for how I treated you, and I understand if you’re still angry. I just wanted you to know that I regret using you the way I did, and I’m trying to be better now. So…”

Sabrina eyed her a little dumbstruck, and Chloe drummed her fingers on the table and cleared her throat. She gulped down the last of her coffee and stood up awkwardly.

“So, that’s all I wanted to say. I guess I’ll see you around,” She said. Sabrina remained quiet, eyes trained on her hands laced together on the table, so Chloe slung her purse over one shoulder and moved to leave without another word.

“You weren’t bad all the time,” Sabrina spoke up after Chloe made it a few steps. “Sometimes things were kinda nice.”

She turned back to see a small smile on Sabrina’s lips, one that echoed on her own before Sabrina glanced back at her hands. Chloe took that as her cue to leave, and as she put more distance between her and the café, she felt more weight lifting from her shoulders. Another burden she could finally shake off and move past. One less regret she had to worry over at night. She felt Hunni wiggling her way out of Chloe’s coat collar and heard her tiny gasp as she drank in fresh air.

“That took guts, kiddo. I’m proud of you,” She praised, a rare, but meaningful gesture coming from her, and Chloe felt a wide grin stretch across her face as she surged forward with a spring in her step.

“Me too.”

Marinette

“So, how are things going with you and Adrien?” Alya asked with a smirk later that evening as they worked on homework, and Marinette leaned back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“They’re fine. Friendly,” She replied shortly.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Alya teased, nudging her with her elbow. “I wish you’d tell me what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

“It’s-”

“Complicated. I know. You say that every time, but I fail to see a valid reason why you changed your mind all of a sudden,” Alya cut her off. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“And as my best friend, you should know that if there is something that I’m keeping from you, I have a very good reason to. I know you and Nino are just trying to be supportive of Adrien, and I get it. You did the same thing for me, but right now, there’s just a lot I have to figure out on my own,” Mari chided.

“Okay.” Alya held up defensive hands, and they resumed working for a minute until she spoke again. “It’s not just for Adrien, you know. Nino and I see the way you both look at each other, how you work together, and we just think that you two could be happy together if you’d just give it a try.”

“I know.” Marinette twirled her pencil between her fingers absentmindedly. “There’s just a lot going on in my head right now.”

“I know everyone’s kind of reinventing themselves right now, and it’s confusing. Nino and I just want you guys to know that we’ve got your back, and we want you to be happy. We’re your friends.” She offered up a small smile that Marinette eventually returned.

“Thanks, Alya,” She murmured, leaning forward to hug her neck. “I know I’m frustrating everyone and hurting Adrien more than he lets on.”

“He does come to us to mope,” Alya admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But he always respects your decisions even if he doesn’t understand them. That boy is something else.”

“His middle name is Perfection.” They shared a laugh at that.

“I’m not trying to push you into anything you don’t want, M. But I see it in your eyes when you look at him. You still love him, I know you do.” Alya leaned against her fist, and Marinette bit her lip, tapping her pencil on her textbook.

“Sometimes,” She relented. “Other times, I’m not sure.”

“That’s love for you. Sometimes they’re the sweetest things on the planet, other times you wanna ring their neck,” Alya chuckled. “There’s a balance.”

“How do you and Nino do it? You two argue a lot.” Marinette winced.

“When you love each other, you forgive each other. We always either work things out, or we agree to disagree. And there are plenty of times where we get along really well, mostly we just like to tease each other and play devil’s advocate. It actually brings us closer together,” She explained, placing a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “I think you and Adrien could stand to have a little heart-to-heart about everything. It might help clear your head.”

“Maybe. We talk about it a little, but I know he keeps his true feelings from me because he doesn’t want to push me.” Marinette slumped a little, and Alya rubbed her arm comfortingly.

“Well, definitely don’t rush into anything you’re not okay with, but do communicate how you feel with him. I’m sure there’s ins and outs that Nino and I don’t know about, so talk about them with him, okay?” She brushed Marinette’s nose.

“Okay.” Marinette nodded obediently.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

- - -

“Okay, so we need to talk strategy if we’re going to take down this fox. I’ve been studying her patterns over the past several weeks, and I think I have an idea about how we can catch her,” She started in their dream meeting that night. Chloe and Adrien both leaned forward a little bit, listening intently. “She’s been hitting up all of Paris’s pride and joys, the Louvre, the Grand Palais, Notre Dame, always vanishing just when the authorities rush in so she can destroy my pride in the eyes of the people, but our conversation about Hawkmoth a couple months ago got me thinking. We suspect that Hawkmoth must have a limited range based on the area akumas tend to pop up in, so I imagine that this fox is limited in how far it can send a doppelganger away from the source.”

“Meaning?” Adrien cocked a brow.

“For each of the events, the real deal isn’t that far away,” Chloe stated, tapping her chin in thought.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, so how does that help us?” Adrien crossed his arms over his chest.

“We’ve been letting her surprise us which never leaves us enough time to sort out a plan before the fake disappears. So what if we got one step ahead?” She proposed.

“How exactly do we do that?”

“I’ve got a few ideas…We know she’s hitting up landmarks that are important to Paris, each one more sacred to the citizens than the last, so if we can predict which one she’s going to hit up next, we can stage a trap for her. Up until now, we all rush in to try and stop her, but it hasn’t gotten us very far. If we’re smart about it, we can locate the real fox during her next exposition and corner her,” She explained, and Adrien pursed his lips skeptically, so she continued with a huff, “Instead of all rushing in at once, I suggest we send in one of us, preferably me since I’m the one she has beef with, while the other two watch from a distance for any sign of the source. We don’t know the exact range of her powers, and maybe she doesn’t know yet either. We can only hope that she stays close by during the event, if nothing more than to watch us fail.”

“So while you engage the fake, we hunt down the real deal, and then-?”

“Herd her like a sheep. We’ll obviously have to set up a route to keep her on leading up to our trap. It’s going to take a lot of planning, and our first priority should be figuring out her hit list,” Marinette said, appeasing Adrien enough for the time being. “What do you think Chloe? You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m thinking,” She murmured, waving them away. “You said she targets landmarks, but I don’t recall the Eiffel Tower being hit yet.”

“No, I think she’s waiting for the opportune moment to strike so that it has the most impact on me,” Marinette affirmed. “It’s only a matter of time before something happens there, I suppose, but we need a more precise estimation.”

“What if we already have one?” Chloe offered, a sly smile curling on her lips, and both Adrien and Marinette gave her a confused frown. “She wants each event to be as public as possible right?”

“Yeah, I assume.”

“So, when’s the next time most of Paris will be gathered at the Eiffel Tower?” Chloe rolled her eyes as if it should be obvious when they still looked perplexed. “There’s a Jagged Stone concert in a week. It’s the perfect opportunity for her to strike. Paris loves Jagged and the Eiffel Tower, put those two together in one place, and it’s the perfect opportunity to shame you.”

“You think she’d go after Jagged?” Adrien’s eyebrows raised.

“I wouldn’t put it past her, no,” Chloe said, and Marinette tapped her chin.

“Alright. We can set up a route on our patrols tomorrow. If she does show up at the concert, we’ll be ready for her, and if she doesn’t…”

“Then we still get a free Jagged Stone concert!” Adrien whooped.

“The mission should be our primary focus, but yes, we can still enjoy the concert, I guess,” Marinette sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as Adrien pumped his fist in the air excitedly. The scene around them began to crack and splinter, a sign that their time was up. “Good meeting tonight. We’ll meet for patrol tomorrow evening and work out more details.”

“We should come up with an outro for these things like Team Miraculous Out! Or- or-”

Marinette gently pushed them both away before he could finish and blinked open her eyes, a wide yawn stretching across her face as she sat up. They were making headway, she supposed, and she only hoped that they were right to assume the fox would target the concert. It was about time they put a stop to things and put that fox in its place. She picked the wrong bug to mess with, and Marinette wasn’t going to stop until the fox Miraculous was safely returned to Master Fu.

- - -

The night buzzed with the sounds of a roaring crowd at the base of the Eiffel Tower as Jagged Stone prepared to take the stage. Strategically spread around the event were Paris’s beloved superheroes, hidden in the shadows as they each scanned the area for suspicious activity. In her ear, Ladybug could hear Chat humming one of Jagged’s songs, and she let out a sigh.

“Chat, focus,” She ordered in a hushed tone, and the humming ceased followed by a quick apology. “Keep an eye out for where the doppelganger originates and remember your routes.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know the drill,” Queen Bee said, and Ladybug could picture her eye roll.

“You’ve only been going over it all week,” Chat added pointedly.

“Sorry, I just really want to end this tonight. It’s bad enough we have Hawkmoth using his Miraculous improperly. We don’t need any more Miraculouses under evil command,” She said, squeezing her yoyo anxiously.

“Chill, Worrybug. Kittycat and I are professionals. Worry about your own mission.”

“I know…” She took a deep breath. “I trust you two.”

Loud squeals of excitement from below indicated that the show had begun and soon the air filled with the sound of electric guitar. A few seconds into the song, Chat resumed singing along, and Ladybug groaned.

“I can multi-task,” He sang in rhythm with the song.

“No, I’m with Ladybug on this one. Leave the singing to Jagged Stone, Chat,” Queen Bee scolded teasingly, and Chat sucked in a loud gasp.

“I am a great singer!” He defended as something caught Ladybug’s eye.

“Movement in the rooftops!” Ladybug blurted. “To the north!”

“On it!” Chat called through the coms.

Down below Jagged was in the middle of his guitar solo when the crowd started cheering louder as the ganger made her appearance. Right where she needed to be.

“I’m going in,” Ladybug announced, readying her yoyo.

“I’ve got eyes on the fox! She’s headed west,” Chat called.

“I’ll flank left,” Queen Bee responded. Everything was going according to plan, and Ladybug landed on the stage next to Jagged with a challenging glare.

“Am I seeing double all of a sudden?” He gaped, shifting behind her.

“You’ve been impersonating me for too long! We know exactly what you are, fox!” She shouted over the noise, and the ganger offered a crooked smile. “You hide behind your illusions, but why don’t you just face me?”

- - -

Chat Noir and Queen Bee followed the fox closely, leading her right into their trap just as planned. Just a few more blocks until they would reach the end and corner her in, hopefully swiping the Miraculous in the process. As they neared their destination, the fox glanced back, casting them a wry smile as she jumped right into their trap. The two heroes landed as the fox eyed the tall brick wall between her and freedom, but she seemed to accept her fate as she made no attempts to scale it.

“We’ve got you cornered, so don’t even think about running. Just hand over your Miraculous, and no one has to get hurt,” Chat ordered, though Queen Bee’s eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.

“This seems too easy,” She murmured as Chat approached.

“Turn around and face us,” He continued with the same business-like tone as before, but the fox remained rooted in place with her back to them. Chat reached out to touch her shoulder and when he did, the girl disappeared in a puff of smoke. He jumped back in alarm, jaw clenching. “She was a fake? But where’s the real one?”

“I knew something seemed off.” Bee tapped her chin in thought. “What if she was just the distraction like Ladybug is for us?”

“A distraction for what?” Chat’s eyebrows knitted together under his mask before it clicked. “Ladybug…We have to get back to the Eiffel Tower! Now!”

- - -

In a split second, the ganger was on her which caught her a little off guard, though she recovered quickly. Ladybug spun and kicked her off as crowds of people ran screaming from the area, and Jagged Stone was ushered off the stage by his crew. Her pulse drummed in her ears so loudly that she could barely make out what Chat and Bee were saying amidst all the chaos.

“The fox was the fake!” Chat shouted for what seemed to not be the first time.

“What?” She called, pressing a hand to her ear to drown out some of the noise, but the ganger was back on her almost immediately.

“She was a fake,” Bee repeated as Ladybug tussled with her fake.

“I’m fighting the fake,” She grunted, flipping her over her back.

“No, the fox we chased wasn’t-” The ganger landed a kick to Ladybug’s head, knocking her across the stage and dislodging the coms unit from her ear. Before she had time to recover, she was hit again, but she struck back harder, teeth grinding into each other in frustration as she flung the imposter across the stage. If the fox Chat Noir and Queen Bee chased wasn’t the real one then she must have known they would split up, but how? Why would she send two fakes as if she knew what they were planning? Unless…Her eyes narrowed as her ganger shook off the speakers that had toppled on top of her, and she met Ladybug’s gaze head-on with a twisted smirk.

Unless she was the real fox.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Ladybug tried, deflecting a few of her blows. “Why are you targeting me? What have I done to you?”

Her words bore no weight as the strikes kept coming and coming. It was as if she couldn’t hear her, or maybe she just didn’t care. Ladybug’s fists clenched tighter, and eventually, she struck back a few times, putting some distance between them as the fake jumped back a few feet.

“Ladybug!” Chat growled overhead, staff-coptering his way down before striking the ground just shy of her.

“Chat! Think about which one is the real one first!” Queen Bee scolded, hovering down gracefully to land beside him.

“I’m the real one!” The fake declared with a perfect impression of Ladybug’s voice.

“Don’t listen to her!” Ladybug pleaded. “Ask me something only I would know!”

Chat and Bee exchanged uncertain expressions and tapped their chins in thought.

“Who was the first akuma we ever fought together after getting our Miraculouses?” Chat posed, glancing between them.

“Stoneheart! First day of school, a boy named Ivan got akumatized after being picked on about a girl he liked!” Ladybug blurted quickly, grinning triumphantly when Queen Bee and Chat turned and sprang at the ganger, but she dodged easily, a playful laugh shaking her shoulders.

Queen Bee tossed one of her trompos, circling it around her feet with the string and creating a yellow field within its halo. The fake’s jaw clenched as she touched the glowing light, squealing in pain when she was met with a slight shock.

“Stings, doesn’t it?” Bee smirked proudly as Ladybug stepped forward.

“Who are you?” She demanded, folding her arms over her chest. The fake cocked a hip to the side, that sadistic smile contorting her features.

“I suppose you don’t recognize me like this,” She stated, moving her hands vertically as her flute manifested in a flash of light. She spun it counter clockwise, destroying the illusion in a flash as she did so, and two familiar green eyes met Ladybug’s with a vengeful glare that sent the red-clad heroine stumbling back a few paces.

“Lila?” She gasped, cupping a hand over her mouth in horror.

“Told you, you hadn’t seen the last of me, Ladybug,” She sneered her name. “I got my hands on a real Miraculous, so now I really am Volpina, and you can’t call me a liar anymore!”

“Lila, this isn’t a game! If you mess with me, you put people’s lives at stake!” Ladybug pleaded.

“I am Volpina!” She stomped her foot.

“Not for much longer, you’re not,” Queen Bee said pointedly, but Volpina simply smirked and examined her nails.

“You have nowhere to run, Volpina. Give up and hand us the Miraculous,” Chat demanded.

“True, I don’t have anywhere to run, but you three do,” She chuckled, pointing to the newest akumatized victim landing on the other end of the stage. With a sweep of its big arm, the three heroes were smacked from the stage, and Volpina was set free of her prison. “Tootles! We’ll see each other again soon, okay?”

“Lila!” Ladybug growled as Volpina skipped off into the night. “Go after her!”

The akuma blocked their path, and Ladybug slammed her fist into the ground angrily. She’d gotten away when they’d come so close! Unfortunately for that akuma, some sort of lumberjack, all three heroes were pent up with enough aggravation that he didn’t know what hit him. As the purified white butterfly flapped away, Ladybug slumped with a sigh and covered her face.

“This is all my fault. I thought she’d moved past this, I-I…” She whimpered, hands shaking as they ran through her hair. “This is all my fault.”

“No, hey, Bug,” Chat cooed, pulling her into his arms, but she backed away.

“If I hadn’t been so selfish this never would have happened! This is all my fault; I don’t deserve to be a hero-” The sound of Bee’s hand slapping across her face echoed around the stage, and Ladybug touched the sore spot delicately.

“You messed up. So what? Everyone does. Don’t give us this pity-party bullshit,” She grunted coldly.

“Hey!” Chat stepped between them defensively, but Ladybug pulled him back.

“Thanks, Bee,” She whispered hoarsely.

“So, what do we do now?” Bee asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“I don’t want either one of you going near Lila anymore,” Chat ordered, but Ladybug shook her head.

“No. If we suddenly abandon her, she’ll get suspicious. We need to find a way to get the Miraculous back from her now that we know who she is. It’s an advantage we have against her now,” Ladybug reasoned, cupping her chin. “Ladybug may not be able to reason with her, but maybe Marinette can.”

“No! It’s too dangerous,” Chat snarled, but Ladybug stood her ground.

“Our entire job is dangerous! But we still have to do it. I’m not some defenseless little princess; I can take care of myself,” She countered, meeting his gaze head-on. His lip twitched slightly, but he backed down with a curt nod.

“Fine. Just be careful,” He caved, letting out a heated breath through his nose.

“We’ll regroup tomorrow night at our meeting. I’ll see what I can gather from Lila tomorrow at school,” Ladybug declared, reaching for her yoyo as her earrings began to beep.

“Okay.” Chat and Bee nodded before she turned and shot off with her yoyo. Queen Bee moved to do the same, but Chat caught her arm as she passed.

“Keep an eye on her. You’re in that group too, so watch her back,” He said gruffly.

“We all watch each other’s backs. We’re a team; it’s what we do,” She replied, and Chat pursed his lips and released his grip. “Marinette is capable on her own. She’s the leader for a reason. Trust her, okay?”

“I do trust her. With my life. It’s Volpina I don’t trust,” He growled.

“Lila won’t hurt Marinette.”

“How do you know?” He snapped.

“Just trust me when I say that. I spend a lot of time with Lila too, and I know things about her that you don’t, things that Marinette doesn’t even know,” She said bluntly. “I’m with Ladybug on this. Business as usual is the best course of action for us right now.”

Chat turned away and clutched his staff tightly, so Queen Bee let out a sigh before leaping up into the rooftops.

When Ladybug landed back on her terrace, her transformation dropped as she crawled back through her skylight and fell onto her bed with an exhausted groan. Tikki floated down beside her and sprawled across the pillow. Her mind was spinning with questions and recourse plans, but all of them seemed too brash to use against Lila - Lila her friend. There had to be another way to reclaim the fox without revealing who she was as she had a feeling Lila wouldn’t take too kindly to finding out her good friend was also her mortal enemy.

If only she hadn’t been so jealous, just further proof that her hot-head needed to be kept in check. The guilt she’d faced 8 months ago all came flooding back to her, but she did her best to push it away. Lila continuing to harbor a grudge wasn’t her fault. Like Chloe said, she’d messed up, but she’d already attempted to make peace. Forgiveness was in Lila’s hands now, and she just hoped that a solution to their dilemma would present itself soon.

#miraculous ladybug #my writing #lady du coeur #volpina's return #marinette dupain-cheng #chloe bourgeois #adrien agreste #lila rossi

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