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bvidzsoo · 3 years

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No one like you

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: light swearing, overload of fluff for the light hearted

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x female reader

Word count: 15, 074

Summary: On a very important day you get a call from your sister asking you to babysit her daughter. She knows how important the project is for you and wouldn’t have bothered to ask you if it really wasn’t urgent. And you know that, so you reassure her that you’ll babysit Jieun. However, you get a little surprise when Kim Mingyu, your brother-in-law’s best friend, shows up unannounced, did I mention he’s also your ex?

A/N: Holy moly what a ride this one shot was writing! I had no idea I had the capacity to write something as fluffy as this bUT! THIS IS KIM MINGYU! and I love Kim Mingyu too much, so this is me channeling my inner love haha. Hope you enjoy it and I would love to read your feedback!

The studio has been buzzing with people the whole week. The new exposition was going well and I was proud that my works gained so much attention in so little time. I have been painting ever since middle school, a small and innocent passion became the job that allows me to put bread on my table every day. I never imagined that one day I would become a well-known painter, it just seemed surreal. But it happened, in my sophomore year, I painted a little piece for a contest and I won, gaining a lot of attention. Ever since then things changed, but they really only changed after I finished high school. I didn’t go to college, like many of my peers, I downed myself into the world of art and went around Europe, researching and learning as much as I could about the painters. Somewhere along the way, in Switzerland to be exact; I was actually taking a break; is where I met my manager. Hansol Vernon Chwe. He had a fine eye for art, very sophisticated taste and unique views. Through him, I met Xu Minghao, my second-in-hand. Minghao was mesmerizing, his mere presence could capture your whole attention. Everything about him was delicate, his taste was even finer than mine and he was ruthless. He knew what he wanted, always, and wasn’t afraid to demand it. Only wanting the best, always striving to be the best. I’m a perfectionist, I rarely let loose and I’m obsessed with order. Minghao and I clicked instantly, it was love at first sight, in a very platonic way. Ever since Vernon introduced me to him, we’ve been working together. Minghao is a painter as well, his style rigid and very colorful, meanwhile mine is warm and homey. We run the studio together, he’s a few years older. It was his idea to work together, to build the studio together, to give it life together. It was his project of a life time, his very own dream, and when he shared it with me, asked me to join him, I knew I couldn’t refuse him. It was great exposure to the both of us and it wasn’t a big surprise of how well it worked.

I was busy talking to a client when my phone started ringing, cutting my words off. Vernon threw me a displeased look, they were clients from France and they wanted a contract with me, some of my paintings would be exposed in their art gallery if I went through with the deal today, but when my phone rang for the second time, I knew I had to excuse myself. I wouldn’t have to, if it wasn’t my sister calling. She had a different ringtone, on purpose, and she knew I was busy today, so, she wouldn’t have called unless it was something very important.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you!” Were her first words as I picked up, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Yeah, I’m talking to some very important people, right now, Joohyun. What’s wrong?”

“Wonwoo and I got stuck.” Her sigh was loud and I listened closely, eyebrows furrowing.

“Where?”

“On the highway, we are still three hours away, traffic is insane, again…”

“Okay, what can I do?” I asked, already knowing it involved Jieun, my 4-year-old niece.

“Jieun’s nanny has to leave in an hour, something came up for her…can you go over? Look after her until Wonwoo and I get back?” I bit my lower lip, thinking hard. Can I leave the studio in an hour? The event goes on the whole day and I am supposed to stay. But if Jieun needs me, our parents live on the other side of the country they won’t be able to come in such a short time, I had no choice but to make it work.

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry. I’ll go babysit her.” I reassured Joohyun and she sighed out relieved.

“Thank you, Y/N, you are a life saver!” Came Wonwoo’s deep voice through the speakers, no doubt my sister was using the car’s Bluetooth to speak on the phone.

“Sure thing, Won, see you later. Drive safely, brother-in-law!” After my sister and her husband bid me their goodbye’s I hung up the phone and went to find Minghao and Vernon. Vernon just finished talking to the French clients and as I neared him, he shook his head.

“What could have been more important than this deal?”

“My sister.” I deadpanned and Vernon sighed as he nodded his head.

“Well, I made the deal. So, if you want to back out, we can’t anymore. The paintings we talked about will be shipped off to Lyon next week.”

“That’s alright with me. For how long is the contract?” I let my eyes run over the people inside the studio, eyes falling on Minghao. He was standing next to one of his painting’s, a glass of red wine in his hand as he spoke to three blonde females. They were giving him suggestive smiles but Minghao paid little to no attention to them as gazed at his painting proudly.

“Contract is for two years, Y/N.” Vernon answered me and I nodded with my lips pursed, waving Minghao over once we made eye contact. He excused himself and jogged over, a bright smile on his lips.

“Everything good?” He asked with his honey voice and Vernon nodded.

“So, uhm…” I cleared my throat and looked at them apologetically, “I have to leave in an hour.”

“Oh?” Minghao asked surprised, looking at Vernon to see if he knew about this already, but he didn’t.

“Joohyun called and asked me to babysit Jieun, her babysitter has to leave in an hour.” I explained to the guys and Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Is there no one else that could go?”

“No, I’m sorry, I really want to stay, but I just—can’t.” I sighed and Vernon nodded in understanding.

Minghao’s eyes lit up in sudden realization as he pointed his glass of wine at me, “Mingyu.”

“Uh…what about Mingyu?” I asked confused, looking at Minghao with furrowed eyebrows.

“Call him and tell him to babysit Jieun instead of you.” He proposed his idea and I took a second to think.

“I’m sure Joohyun and Wonwoo thought of Mingyu first.” Minghao went to cut me off but I raised one finger at him, “Joohyun knows it’s important what we are doing today, she really wouldn’t have called if Mingyu was available, okay?”

“Sure.” Minghao muttered with a sigh and Vernon patted my shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything. Minghao will entertain the guests, no doubt.” A teasing grin came onto Vernon’s lips as he took the glass of wine from Minghao.

“Why can’t you do it, huh?” Minghao snapped back, glaring at Vernon when he took a sip from his glass.

“And this is why I didn’t want to leave…” I muttered with a shake of my head, making Vernon chuckle as Minghao shot me a glare.

“We are very competent of running things on our own, Y/N, thank you very much.” I gave Minghao a look before he returned it, challenging me. Sometimes our personalities would clash together, one more stubborn than the other.

“Chill, guys,” Vernon raised a hand in the air to get our attention, our mediator in tense moments, “Y/N, you should greet Mr. Yoon’s grandmother before you leave, she’s been looking for you.”

“Of course!” My face lit up at the mention of Grandma Yoon, the old lady having been a very loyal customer of mine. I met her through the contest back in high school and ever since we’ve kept in touch. She used to think Yoon Jeonghan, her charming nephew, and I would become a thing. She was really convinced she could make us date, but Jeonghan and I were too different. And to be fairly honest, I’m not someone very interested in relationships. I’m fine on my own, I don’t mind not having a partner. It was long since someone held me in their arms and kissed my forehead softly, but my art required a lot of attention and time that I wasn’t willing to sacrifice for someone else. I’ve been on a few dates since high school, but they never worked out. I blamed them on my atrociously high expectations but those weren’t the reasons for my failed love life. It was a person that I never truly got over, he ruined me in the best way possible, and now I just can’t find anyone that could live up to his level. No one. And it was frustrating until I realized I didn’t actual need someone to feel completed and happy. Excusing myself from Minghao and Vernon, I went around the studio with a smile on my face, searching for Grandma Yoon and Jeonghan.

The car ride to my sister’s house took a lot longer than usual, traffic at noon was horrible in the city. I was at least fifteen minutes late by the time I pulled in their driveway, quickly getting out of the car, big bag full of supplies almost falling from my hand. I locked my car and rushed to the front door, ringing the bell. It took three seconds and the door was thrown open, a relieved look on the nanny’s face.

“I’m sorry, traffic was really bad today.” I shot an apologetic smile to the nanny and she opened the door wider, to let me step inside.

“I understand, thank you so much for coming!” She bowed her head as she pulled on her coat, stepping outside the door, “It’s really urgent.”

“Hurry, then…” I motioned for her to leave with my head and she bowed a bit before rushing away, leaving me shaking my head. I closed the door and threw my heels off, music coming from the living room. I smiled to myself when a girly voice echoed to the hallway, singing along to the lyrics. I left my green, thin, coat hanging on the hanger and gripping my heavy bag with both hands, I headed towards the living room. My sister’s house was big and beautiful. Her and Wonwoo have a simple yet sophisticated taste. Their house looked a thousand times better than my apartment. As clean as I am, my apartment could be a mess from time to time. Especially my art room, where I paint, that one was always a mess. But for me that mess was order, I always knew where everything was and found whatever I was looking for within seconds. As I walked down the hallway to the living room, I gazed at the pictures in white frames that were hung up on the white walls. The pictures were of Wonwoo, Joohyun and Jieun, mostly. There were a few family portraits from both parties, Wonwoo and Joohyun, and there were even some of me and Mingyu. Actually, the one who took almost every picture was Mingyu. He has had a passion for photography since high school and continued to do it as a side job, even currently. He was borderline an artsy, borderline a jock kind of guy throughout high school, maybe that’s why he attracted all kinds of girls. Myself included.

“What a nice voice you have, Jieun!” I exclaimed as I let my bag fall to the floor once I made it into the living room’s doorway.

Jieun’s head turned away and a big gummy smile, nose scrunched up, spread on her soft face, “Auntie Y/N! You came!”

“Of course, I came, auntie wouldn’t miss any chance of spending time with her favorite girl in this whole world!” Jieun started giggling loudly as I spoke in a funny way, jumping my way towards her.

“I’m really your favorite girl?” She asked with another giggle as I reached her and scooped her up in my arms. Her weight wasn’t something I couldn’t handle; she was only four after all.

“Well…it might be Joohyun, but—”

“Auntie, bad auntie!” Jieun whined with a pout and I grinned at her, kissing her cheek.

“Bad auntie, I know.” I muttered and she pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, so I placed her down, “What were you doing with your nanny?”

“We studied a little bit of numbers, then I wanted to watch cartoons and she promised to make some French fries for me but—she’s gone now.” Jieun’s lips formed a pout and she oddly resembled a little bunny, cheeks puffing up. I laughed and crouched down in front of her.

“So, here’s my plan…” I motioned for her to lean as if I was sharing a secret with her, “Auntie brought some of her painting stuff over…so, after we paint a bit, I will make French fries for you. Cool?”

“Cool!” Jieun exclaimed loudly, clapping her hands together. I winked at her and went to grab my bag from the doorway, dragging it to the coffee table. I glanced at her as I opened the bag, her big eyes shone with excitement; she loved drawing and painting; and her nose scrunched up in the most adorable way as she smiled. She was an oddly mix of both Joohyun and Wonwoo. Sometimes, the two would start bickering about who she looked more like…in those time, of course Mingyu and I would have to interfere, and of course Mingyu would be on Wonwoo’s side meanwhile I was on Joohyun’s, just to balance out everything. But when Jieun smiled, she was the exact replica of Wonwoo, nose scrunching in the same way and eyes disappearing almost. When she was serious or pouting, she looked like Joohyun with her big eyes and delicate lips. Her beautiful dark hair reached her shoulders and she’d always brush her bangs out of her eyes, especially when she was frustrated with something. And oh my God, she was one of the most stubborn kids I’ve ever met. She knew how to manipulate people, even at the age of four, and most of the time got what she wanted. She inherited Joohyun and Wonwoo’s calm natures, never being a hyper child, nor too loud. She could be a little angel but she had her moments when she was hard to deal with.

“So…” I looked at Jieun as she kept smiling at me, “Do you have anything in mind that you’d like to paint?”

She sat on her knees close to the coffee table as she stared down at the smaller white canvas I placed on the table for her. All kinds of brushes and colors lay on the table, Jieun’s eyes running over them eagerly.

“Nothing special, maybe some trees…a blue sky…green grass…something nice.” She mused, more to herself, and I chuckled quietly as I shook my head. One day, my little Jieun, would turn into a big painter herself, making her auntie proud.

“Sounds excellent,” I raised my thumb up at her and she giggled, “Should we start?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed and quickly claimed her brush, asking me to pour some blue paint onto her palette. I did as I was asked and watched as her tongue darted out and eyebrows furrowed as she mentally imagined where she’d place the sky.

“Auntie, will you not paint?” She gave me a quick glance before swiping her brush against the canvas.

“Not today, I’m taking a break.” I answered her as I leaned against the sofa, watching her paint, “Auntie has worked really hard the past three months, I need some rest.”

“Don’t you paint though because it makes you relax?” Her eyebrows rose as she tried to lighten the blue color she placed on her canvas.

“That’s true, but I’m wearing white pants…” I trailed off with a lame excuse, making Jieun throw me an amused glance. I giggled when she shook her head, it made me feel like I was the kid and she was the adult. Jieun, sometimes, would act really mature for her age, saying meaningful things without realizing the weight of her words. Mingyu always blamed it on Wonwoo and Joohyun, who would never fail to remind their daughter certain things that would form her into a decent human being later on in life.

“I’m so excited!” Jieun giggled as she pointed at the yellow paint, and I took and pushed some of it onto her palette.

“Do you like painting so much?” I chuckled and Jieun nodded, “That makes auntie really happy!”

“Yes but no!” She exclaimed and I raised my eyebrows at her as she attempted to paint a big sun onto the blue sky she just painted, “Uncle is coming over too!”

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked surprised at the little girl sitting next to me, Mingyu is coming over?

“Did you speak to mommy and daddy, Jieun?”

“Yes, they said uncle Mingyu couldn’t make it in time so they will ask you to come instead.” She hummed and grinned at me before turning back to her canvas.

“Ah, so Mingyu isn’t really coming over…” I let out a sigh, pleased to hear he wouldn’t show up today. I haven’t seen him in over a month, and meanwhile it was a long time, it was actually refreshing. I didn’t have much time to spend time with my family as I was busy with the studio and the project Minghao and I have been working on. Mingyu was considered family, even though he wasn’t related to anyone. It’s just the way it is, Wonwoo and him grew up together, it was only natural Wonwoo considered him his brother. So that made him, indirectly, Joohyun’s brother-in-law and my…well, brother-in-law? I wasn’t really sure, it didn’t matter, I didn’t consider Mingyu really family either way. It was just weird, to look at him and think ‘oh yeah, he’s like my bro’, because we have dated in high school before, for two years. Two years of bliss and pure happiness, two years I wish I could time travel back to.

“But uncle is still coming over though…” Jieun muttered to herself and my eyebrows furrowed, but I ignored her comment. She just misunderstood what her mom and dad told her. Mingyu couldn’t make it today, so they called me instead. Just like I suspected, I knew Joohyun wouldn’t have bothered me if she had other options.

Painting the canvas went well and in-an-hour Jieun was finished, happy and proud of her work. She asked me to critically asses her painting and so I did, entertaining my little niece furthermore, her giggles filling the living room. She was so loud that I didn’t even hear the front door opening, a mistake on my part as I forgot to lock it, and the deep voice made me jump upon I heard it.

“And what do we have here…” My eyes were wide as my heart beat quickly, a loud squeal leaving Jieun’s lips before he was up on her feet, dashing towards the giant standing in the doorway. Mingyu was grinning down widely at Jieun as he scooped her up in his strong, and well-built, arms, his sharp canines showing off when his smile widened more. His black hair was disheveled, probably because he continuously runs his hand through it, and the sides stuck to his face, still wet. He was wearing black shorts that reached his knees and a sleeveless blue loose tank top, a silver chain dangling from his neck. I quickly caught myself ogling him and huffed as I rose to my feet, arms crossing in front of my chest. Truly, who knew not seeing him for a month would make him look more attractive? Mingyu, no doubt, had an incredible glow up since high school. If he would’ve looked like this during high school too, I’m sure all the girls would’ve lined up in front of his classroom to bring him all sorts of things. But even as handsome as he was now, I found him plain. Maybe because I’ve known him for a long time now, and don’t get me wrong, plain not in a bad way…he was just, plain, transparent.

“Look how excited you are to see uncle!” Mingyu teased Jieun as he poked her stomach, eliciting a loud shriek. I couldn’t help it but smile, having a big weakness for Mingyu and Jieun together. And alone, just…when it came to Mingyu, after all those years, he was still my one and only weakness. It amazed me how I never got over him one hundred percent, I just couldn’t. But I didn’t want to either, not when his flaws seemed perfect too.

“Because I love uncle!” Jieun grinned at Mingyu, nose scrunching up making Mingyu giggle.

“Of course, you love me! I’m the best uncle ever!” Jieun cheered with Mingyu as he started dancing around with her still in his arms, Jieun poking Mingyu’s cheek.

“Finally, uncle and auntie are together!” Jieun cried out as Mingyu started tickling her sides, making her laughter echo loudly in the house. It seemed like realization dawned on him upon he heard Jieun’s words, he seemed to realize that there was another person there with them, standing a few feet away, smiling at them. Mingyu stopped moving and Jieun giggled quietly, trying to catch her breath from being tickled, throwing her arms around Mingyu’s neck to give him a tight hug. Mingyu’s gaze locked with mine and I kept my smile on as he returned it.

“Look who finally showed up!” He teased and put Jieun down, acting as if his muscles were sore from holding her and he earned a light slap from Jieun.

“Well, hello,” I said with a chuckle as Mingyu walked further inside the living room, headed my direction, “Long time no see, old friend.”

“A month, to be exact.” Mingyu said, suddenly serious, as he stopped in front of me, “Are you ignoring us now?”

“As if you don’t know…” I rolled my eyes and undid my arms that were in front of my chest, to turn and walk away, but Mingyu was fast and he was already pulling me in a hug. His body was bigger than mine and whenever he hugged me, I felt like I was melting into him, disappearing from the world. This time wasn’t different, in fact, it felt like his body swallowed mine all up as he gripped me tightly. One month was really that long of a time, huh. I returned the hug, suddenly realizing his tank top was damp and he didn’t smell exactly the most pleasant, at least his usual cologne was less strong, “I was busy with the studio and—are you sweating?”

“Right now?” Mingyu started laughing and his chest rocked against mine, my eyes widened, realization hitting me. He just finished work!

“Ew, Kim Mingyu, get off!” I shrieked and tried to wrestle myself out of his bear hug, but he squeezed harder and started laughing louder and louder, “You’re sweaty, no, stop!”

“Too late, dummy!” He said while laughing and twirled me around, very amused that I couldn’t get away from him.

“Don’t make me kneel you where the sun doesn’t shine!” I threatened with a deadly voice and in two second, he let go of me, “You’re disgusting!”

“That’s not something nice to say to someone, auntie…” We heard Jieun in the background say very lightheartedly.

“That’s right, Jieunie…” Mingyu said with a pout, leaning his face closer to mine. I quickly pushed it back and it made Mingyu snort before he glanced at the canvas on the coffee table.

“Oh! Did you paint this Jieun?” He asked, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Do you like it?” Jieun asked happily, bouncing on her toes.

“Love it! It’s so beautiful!”

“Thank you!” Jieun giggled and I patted her head as she came to stand by my side, grinning at Mingyu, “Next time I could paint you!”

“Oh, uncle would love that!” Mingyu winked at Jieun playfully as he looked back at me, “Missed you, Y/N.”

My heartbeat quickened and I snorted, very unladylike, as I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, sure…Can’t say I missed you very much, I guess—Yeah, kinda? A bit, yeah, I missed you too, idiot.”

“Wow,” Mingyu breathed out, an amused smile on his lips, “That sounded like you got a brain malfunction, glad to see I still make you flustered, Bae.”

“Don’t call me Bae.” I snapped at him, eyes narrowing as Mingyu went to the doorway, picking up his discarded backpack.

“Isn’t that your family name, Bae?” A sneaky smirk crossed his lips, he knew what he was doing. Of course, that is my family name but he is using it knowing it has double meaning.

“Go take a shower Kim, you stink.” I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers, making Jieun laugh loudly as she pointed at Mingyu.

“Auntie is making fun of you!”

“Didn’t Wonwoo hyung teach you to not point fingers or make fun of someone, Jieun?” Mingyu’s voice turned stern, but his expression remained light. Jieun, however, knew Mingyu was being serious and scolding her.

“Sorry,” She muttered with a pout and hid her face in my pants as she turned her body into me.

“Go shower, before I cut off the warm water, you dick—” I sucked in a deep breath at the almost slip, it was already bad that I let dick slip, as Mingyu started hollering with laughter.

“Good luck explaining that to Wonwoo and Joohyun later, bae.” He called as he walked down the hallway and towards the bathroom, laughter following him. I cursed in my head as I looked down at Jieun, a big smile on her lips.

“Dick?” She asked with a giggle and my eyes widened in mortification.

“Jieun, no! Never ever say that to anyone, okay?!” I snapped, eyes narrowing at her as I leaned down to be eye level with her, “Auntie will cry if you do, I swear, Jieun.”

“Auntie will be sad if I say…dick?” She giggled again and I glared at her, trying to make her understand she couldn’t say that. How do you make a kid stop from saying a bad word? Help?!

“Auntie will bawl, Jieun, not cry, bawl!” I emphasized the word, knowing how much Jieun hated seeing people cry.

“Okay, I won’t say it at all,” She raised her pinky finger and hooked it with mine, “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise.” I echoed after her, biting my lower lip nervously. This will come back and bite me in the ass later, I know it, and that’s when I’ll really be bawling. Especially if Joohyun will be shouting my head off with Wonwoo throwing daggers at me, dear God, what have I done?

Jieun was beyond excited when I told her that I would have to cook lunch for us now, and she even volunteered to watch some Barbie movie while I do that. She knew I didn’t like other people in the kitchen with me while I was cooking, I always worked better alone. Mingyu was in the shower still, his phone blasting some upbeat song that we could hear clear and loud from the living room, hallway, and even a little bit from the kitchen. I shook my head as I turned on the Barbie movie for Jieun, Rapunzel, and walked to the kitchen while throwing daggers towards the closed and locked bathroom door. Mingyu always had weird habits but ever since we finished high school, he started developing some even weirder and annoying ones, like blasting music while showering. Maybe if it was Mozart or some jazz music it wouldn’t have bothered me, but the kind of music he listened to were men and women screaming and throwing out nasty words while saying them fast, that’s not music in my opinion. But I learned not to question him about many things, his rants would leave me with a headache afterwards, he always spoke too quickly which messed with my brain. He definitely wasn’t a very patient person and it showed in many ways.

I opened the fridge and took out everything I needed for lunch. I promised to make French fries for Jieun so that was the first thing I started working on. I washed the potatoes before peeling them and washing them again, then I placed them in a bowl and started cutting them up into long, thin, sticks. Without realizing, I found myself humming a ballad I heard a while ago while preparing the studio. It was a beautiful song about a man who regretted letting go of its lover, realizing too late what an amazing person this was. I could relate, almost, but it wasn’t me who broke up with Mingyu. He wanted us to break up, so I didn’t have much choice but to move on. Something I actually failed doing, only partially though.

I prepared the oil for the fries, placing it in a pan and putting it on the cooker, waiting for it to boil. I washed some vegetables and started cutting them, preparing a salad with some yoghurt and lemon dressing. I placed the first round of fries into the pan and hissed when some hot oil collided with the skin of my wrist, I always hated cooking with oil, that shit hurt when it burned you. As I moved around the kitchen, trying to find the salt that seemed to always be in a different cupboard, I became aware of the silence coming from the bathroom. Mingyu must have finished washing up, I strained my ears and was able to hear the Barbie movie still playing in the living room. I went back to the fridge and took out the meat that Joohyun placed there last night to defrost and took it to the chopping board. I took out the sharpest knife from the drawer bellow and started slicing up the meat into, somewhat, even pieces. I always found the cleaning and slicing of meat disgusting, nowadays, I didn’t even cook it anymore for myself. But Mingyu and Jieun really liked meat, and it seems like Joohyun had in mind to prepare it today, so I sacrificed myself to cooking it, not that it’s a big deal.

“Mhm, smells good in here,” The male voice made me flinch, I always get scared from the smallest things, “What are we cooking today?”

I heard shuffling from behind as Mingyu walked further inside the kitchen, his big feet thudding loudly against the marble floor.

“I’m cooking today.” I said as I proceeded to cut off the excess fat from the meat.

“You really don’t expect me to sit back and watch you cook?” Mingyu sounded amused and I knew I couldn’t really argue with him. He loved cooking and he was really good at it too.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind…” I trailed off as I crouched down to open the cupboard and take out a bowl, “You know I don’t like people bothering me when I do something.”

“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me, your first round of French fries would’ve turned into ashes.” I rolled my eyes as Mingyu took his position at the cooker, taking out the French fries and dumping them into a deep bowl.

“I was about to check it…” I muttered as I proceeded to season the meat, licking the mixture from my palm. It tasted fine but I needed to mix it better so I proceeded to do that.

“From what I can see, you do need an extra pair of hands here…” Mingyu muttered with a chuckle and I felt him passing behind me to wash his hands in the sink, “Not that I wouldn’t mind sitting and watching you move around—those pants really do their justice to your ass—”

“Kim Mingyu.” I snapped and rolled my eyes, refusing to look at him and let him see the redness of my cheeks. I swear to God, he says things like that on purpose just to make me flustered. And they always work.

“What? I’m just giving you a compliment here!” He said defensively and passed again behind my back, coming a lot closer and I clenched my jaw.

“Slap my ass and I will cut off your fingers.” I warned, knowing him well enough, and Mingyu started giggling as he quickly ran past me, coming to a stop in front of the cooker. He placed the second round of potatoes into the boiling oil, no complaints coming, unlike from me. His technique was always better. I licked my finger again and hummed contently, about to wash my hands when Mingyu spoke up.

“Let me taste it!” He whined and I rolled my eyes, heading for the sink.

“When it’s done.” I muttered as I turned on the water, hand almost underneath it, when a large hand gripped my wrist and raised it up.

“Mingyu—” I choked on air when he proceeded to such off the mixture from my middle finger, knocking all air out of my lungs. He hummed with his eyes closed, lips in a pout as he released my finger from his mouth. My heart went crazy and my jaw hung open, I shifted from one leg to the other, saliva pooling in my mouth. What the fuck?!

And then my eyes proceeded to travel lower and now I was definitely turned on, “What the fuck?!”

His eyebrows rose and he looked confused as he followed my eyes, which were currently on his well defined six pack. Jesus Christ, woman, as if you haven’t seen men with six packs before! Yeah, but those men weren’t Kim Mingyu…The hand he was still holding twitched and I snatched out of his hold, mustering up my most frightening glare as my eyes connected with his. It took a lot of power to punch his biceps instead of his, very firm looking and broad, chest.

“Go put on a shirt, Jesus, Jieun doesn’t need to see you shirtless.” I scolded him and quickly turned around and washed off the mixture, before he decided to lick my whole hand clean.

“I don’t see Jieun around though…” I could hear the smirk in Mingyu’s voice and I scoffed as I rolled my eyes aggressively.

“Here or not, go put on a shirt, dickhead, no one is curious of your body. This isn’t the gym, Mingyu.” I muttered aggressively, avoiding to look at him as I reached for the towel to dry my hands, knowing well if I looked at him my eyes would be drawn to his chest instead of his face. I tensed and groaned in annoyance when Mingyu’s front was suddenly pressed up against my back, his warm enveloping mine. I hate how easily he could tease me and how easy it is to make me react; how easy it was for him to play around. I knew he only teased me because he lived for my reactions, but deep down I always hoped it was because there were still some lingering feelings for me. Maybe not, he broke up with me, after all.

“You left the water running, Y/N,” He muttered, voice low as he was so close, his breath tickled my exposed shoulder and I tried not to cover away, “Joohyun and Wonwoo won’t be too happy when their bill comes.”

“Yeah, well, how about you learn what personal space is?!” I snapped as I placed the towel down forcefully, wanting to turn around but knowing I couldn’t resist looking at his toned body, I stayed put instead.

“And miss all the reactions you give me?” He giggled as he placed his chin on my shoulder, making me sigh out loud, “That would be a total waste of my time.”

“And a lot of saving of my energy—your potatoes will turn into ash soon, so how about you move?” I raised my elbow and let it collide with his abdomen, not too harshly though. Mingyu giggled again and suddenly a new voice rang through the kitchen.

“Uncle, you’ve finished showering!” I panicked as I didn’t want Jieun to see us like this, she would tell her mom everything and I didn’t want Joohyun and Wonwoo smirking at us the next time we’ll have dinner together, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re cooking?”

Jieun was pouting and I hissed when Mingyu did nothing to move, looking at Jieun with a smug smile, “I want to help too!”

“Sure, sweetie, uncle was about to make some sandwiches, do you want to help?” Mingyu cooed at Jieun and I elbowed him again, harder this time, to make him step back. He groaned in pain and finally put distance between our bodies, when suddenly I felt teeth sinking into my shoulder.

“What the fuck?!” I couldn’t help but cry out and turn around sharply to slap a smirking Mingyu. I started back at him wide eyed as he started cackling, unphased by my slap to his side this time.

“Uncle will go and put on a shirt if he wants to live.” I said with a forced smile as I gave Mingyu a look, eyebrows raising at him, “Or do I have to make you wear one? Like a little kid?”

“Oh, bae, I can do that fine on my own.” He laughed as he walked to the table, where his grey shirt, with a deep V, was thrown down on.

“What is fuck?” Jieun asked, eyebrows furrowed, and my eyes widened as Mingyu started hollering with laughter again.

“Yeah, auntie, what is fuck?” Mingyu smirked once he was able to speak, hid laughter having died down, “I’m really curious too.”

I glared at both Mingyu and Jieun, placing my arms on my hips as I took a deep breath, “A very ugly word that only adults can use, alright?”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you, Jieun.” Mingyu said with a shrug as he went to take the bread.

Jieun stuck her tongue out at Mingyu and I smirked as I walked towards the oven to take out the roasting tray, “I said adults, Mingyu.”

Jieun started giggling loudly and Mingyu threw me a glare as he paused slicing up the bread for the sandwiches he planned on making.

“Hand me some ham, cheese, tomatoes and lettuce, Jieunie.” Mingyu asked the little girl, watching me still as I stuck my tongue out at him before I started placing the meat into the roasting tray. Jieun pulled a chair to the fridge, climbed on it and started taking out the items Mingyu asked for.

“Thank you.” He thanked her when she waltzed back to him, grinning at Mingyu as she sat at the table, chin in her palms. I grinned at Jieun, she looked really cute. I quickly remembered the French fries and placed another round into the boiling oil, making me hiss when it went on my skin, again.

“You okay, auntie?” Jieun muttered as she threw me a glance, her eyes going back to Mingyu, who was assembling the sandwiches now.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry.” I smiled towards the girl before turning up the heat in the oven and placing the meat inside. I turned around and leaned against the counter and watched Mingyu work. His back was a bit hunched as he is very tall, his muscles flexing from time to time as he used his hands to make the sandwiches and he kept making faces at Jieun. He beaconed her over and let her place the round tomatoes into each sandwich, poking her nose and praising her once she was done. I sighed and checked on the potatoes again, stirring them a bit around.

“I have an awesome idea,” Mingyu spoke up, canines showing from how big his smile was, “Let’s have a picnic!”

“A picnic!” Jieun exclaimed, jumping up from her seat, “Auntie! We are having a picnic!”

I chuckled and nodded my head, looking at Mingyu with an impressed smile, “Seems like we are having a picnic!”

“I’m having a picnic with my favorite auntie and uncle!” Jieun shouted as she ran out into the hallway, “I will go and change! I want to wear something pretty!”

Mingyu and I laughed quietly as Jieun ran up the stairs, her feet thudding loudly upstairs as she went to her room to get changed. My eyes fell back on Mingyu, he was already looking at me, and he smiled warmly. I returned it and before I turned around, he sent a wink. I winked back and shook my head as I went to open the cupboards, looking for a tablecloth.

“I’ll prepare what we need for the picnic.” I informed Mingyu and he hummed.

“I’ll finish the rest of the potatoes, how long until the meat is done?”

“Forty-five more minutes.” I said after I glanced at my wristwatch, going around the kitchen to get the plates, utensils’ and what we else we needed.

When forty-five minutes were up, the three of us went outside in the little garden behind the house. It was a good day, the sun high up in the sky with a few clouds here and there, and it was warm enough that you could wear a tank top and a cardigan over it. Spring was always a season I enjoyed the most. The pleasure of seeing everything bloom to life once again brought great joy for me. Taking walks in parks while the trees and grass turn once again green is a certain satisfaction you understand only if you experience it.

Meanwhile Mingyu prepared a few more dishes with Jieun’s help, I placed a blanket onto the grass and started carrying outside plates, utensils, glasses, apple juice and the food that was prepared, one by one. Jieun bounced around me the whole time, talking loudly and quickly as she told Mingyu to hurry up and bring the meat out so that we could start eating.

“Jieun,” I spoke up, looking up from my kneeling position on the blanket, “Go put on your denim jacket, sweetie, you might catch a cold in a simple t-shirt.”

“Do I have to?” She whined, lips jutting out and eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, you do.” I gave her a look that she knew she couldn’t argue with, so she rose to her feet and ran back inside almost crashing into Mingyu when he appeared in the doorway.

“Woah, chipmunk!” He exclaimed, clutching the plate close to his chest, “We almost lost the meat!”

I giggled and shook my head at Mingyu, his eyebrows were furrowed as he turned around to shout back inside the house, making sure Jieun heard him. I sat down on the blanket, sighing out as I massaged my sore knees, I kneeled for too long.

“Stop being dramatic and bring that here.” I said when Mingyu turned back around, shaking his head in displeasure, exiting the house, “You hang out too much with Jeonghan.”

“I don’t,” He scoffed as he handed me the plate before taking a seat on the blanket, “I haven’t seen him in three weeks.”

“Oh no, did he finally ditch you?” I teased with a grin and Mingyu rolled his eyes.

“You wish, he’s my most loyal client!” Mingyu exclaimed, a proud smirk on his lips.

“Is he becoming as buff as you are?” I found myself asking absentmindedly, hating that I was confessing to having checked him out many times. It’s not my fault, his body is eye catching. The whole existence of Kim Mingyu is eye catching. You’d be a fool to be in a room and not notice him, his sole presence is powerful and like a magnet.

“Oh, so I’m buff?” I rolled my eyes as Jieun came running out the house.

“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, smiling when Jieun plopped down next to me, “Ready to have lunch?”

“This is the best day of my life!” Jieun screeched and I chuckled, poking her cute cheek. Mingyu giggled quietly, grabbing a plate and starting to put various foods on it. Jieun watched him eagerly and so did I, failing to notice the fond smile on my lips.

“This one is for the princess,” He deepened his voice and did a little bow as he handed Jieun the plate, “From your loyal servant, Kim Mingyu.”

“No!” Jieun giggled, taking the plate excitedly, “You are uncle Mingyu! Not my servant!”

“Let me spoil you for a second, Jieun…” Mingyu said with a sigh, grabbing another plate. I handed Jieun her fork, she still struggled with her chopsticks, and placed a napkin on her lap.

“Don’t stain your pretty skirt, okay?” I asked and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“Don’t pressure her, Y/N,” Mingyu shot me a look, “Don’t worry about that, Jieunie, just eat freely!”

“You really do spoil her too much…” I chuckled, leaning forward to grab a plate but Mingyu slapped my hand away, “No wonder Joohyun complains about you.”

“She does?!” Mingyu made an offended sound and I watched as the, now, plate full of food was handed at me.

“Thank you.” I muttered with a smile, suddenly feeling shy at the look he was giving me. I looked away and turned my head quickly, reaching for my chopsticks. Mingyu remained quiet and I could feel him still looking at me but Jieun spoke up.

“The French fries are so good!” She exclaimed, making a ‘mm’ sound as she stuffed her mouth with more, “You cook better than mommy and daddy!”

“We do?” I asked with a laugh, glancing at Mingyu, who was smiling smugly.

“Of course, we do!” He gave me a look, “You’re sitting next to Korea’s biggest chef!”

“You wish.” I snorted meanwhile Jieun started giggling, shooting finger guns at Mingyu who winked back at her. It was heartwarming to see Mingyu and Jieun interact, their personalities were weirdly quite similar. Except, Mingyu was acting like a child sometimes as an adult and Jieun was still a child, she had an excuse. I liked spending my time with the two, I felt refreshed and full of positive energy afterwards. Even Mingyu’s teasing could feel pleasant after a long and tiring day at the studio.

“How’s the studio going?” My ears perked up when Mingyu spoke up, eyes on me.

“Oh, pretty well,” I said after swallowing, “The exposition is going well, I wish I was there…”

“Yeah, sorry,” Mingyu scratched his chin, shooting me an apologetic smile, “I thought I wouldn’t be able to come look after Jieun today, that’s why I told Joohyun to ask you. I had three more clients that were supposed to come in but Jeonghan is apparently sick, the other pulled a muscle two days ago and can barely walk and well the third one—I forgot.”

“You always forget things, uncle…” Jieun said with a giggle, dipping her French fry into ketchup. I leaned over the bowls placed in front of me on the blanket and grabbed the one with the salad.

“You have to eat vegetables to stay healthy, Jieun, not just junk food.” I said as I pushed a bit of the salad on Jieun’s plate, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust.

“You’re like dad, ew.” She muttered, shooting me a cute glare. I giggled and put the bowl down, turning towards Mingyu.

“I get it, don’t worry…” I reassured him with a smile, eating more of the meat from my plate, “I just worked so hard for this exposition and—you know Vernon and Minghao! They always find something to disagree on and to be honest, I hope they can keep it together at least until the event is over…”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed as he nodded in understanding and he placed his right hand on my thigh, giving it a small squeeze, “Don’t worry, Vernon and Minghao know how much this means to you. And, besides, they would be jeopardizing themselves too if they fuck up, so…maybe that’ll make you sleep better at night—”

I started laughing, loudly, as I squeezed my eyes shut the food still in my mouth. Mingyu paused talking and his eyebrows were raised as he exchanged glances with a confused looking Jieun. It made me laugh more and I had to place my plate down and swallow carefully, my body rocking with laughter.

“Uh—I’m sure what I said wasn’t that funny—” And then Jieun started laughing too and I couldn’t help it but laugh harder. Jieun was clapping her hands excessively as she kept pointing her finger at Mingyu’s face, unable to say much.

“Un—uncle—you—” I tried to take deep breaths and calm down. Mingyu’s confused face turned into an angry expression, plate sitting on his thigh, as he crossed his arms in front of broad chest.

“What.” He snapped, eyes falling on me now that I stopped laughing.

“You—” I took a deep breath, calming my racing heart and clutching my stomach, “Have salad stuck between your front teeth, I’m sorry—”

I started giggling again and Mingyu’s eyes widened as he started chuckling, sticking his finger in his mouth to take care of the stray salad stuck between his teeth.

“Ew, uncle!” Jieun screeched, closing her eyes, “Cover your mouth when you do that!”

“Yeah, did your parents never teach you that’s disgusting?” I threw him a disgusted look and Mingyu grinned once he cleaned his teeth.

“You dared to laugh, at me,” He pointed at himself, straightening his back, “The great, Kim Mingyu?”

“Please…” I rolled my eyes with a scoff and gave Jieun a look, a look she returned with an amused grin.

“You shall face the punishment now!” I scoffed again and Mingyu leaned over the food and started poking Jieun’s sides, making her laugh again. She swatted at his fingers, throwing him a glare when he stopped.

“That’s not funny…” She muttered to herself as she resumed eating and I chuckled about to eat as well, when I felt a jab in my side.

“You don’t want to do this, Kim Mingyu,” I warned him, pointing a chopstick at him, “We both know you are more ticklish…”

“A punishment is a punishment, bae.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname but of course, Mingyu quickly started tickling my side and I started jabbing him with my chopstick wherever I could.

“Fight, fight, fight!” Jieun started chanting playfully and I huffed as I caught Mingyu’s wrist and stopped him.

“Seriously, don’t.” He pouted and pulled his arm back, throwing me a glance.

“You’re no fun.”

“Do you want me to tickle you?” I raised my eyebrows, wriggling my fingers when Mingyu glared.

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Halfway through the meal, Jieun said she had enough and got up and ran to the little swing they had for her in the garden. Mingyu and I remained on the blanket, splitting what Jieun left on her plate and eating that too. Once we were finished, I poured him some apple juice, then for myself, and we drank it quietly while watching Jieun run around. I chuckled when she started playing with a small butterfly flying by, handing my cup to Mingyu when he asked for it. He gathered our plates, the bowls of food and put them on the far end of the blanket, away from us so that it wouldn’t bother us. Mingyu was leaning back on his forearms as his eyes followed Jieun around, a fond smile on his lips. I sighed and glanced at him, my eyes falling on the black camera resting by his thigh.

“How’s that business going?” I spoke, getting Mingyu’s attention. He followed my vision of line and nodded his head lightly.

“Pretty well,” He said, picking up the camera in his hands, “I’m collaborating with a high school currently, so I’m taking graduation pictures of their seniors.”

My lips formed an ‘O’ shape and I gave him a smirk, “You must be pretty famous around that high school.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded his head, “Can’t say I’m not, Y/N.”

“Right, can’t remember a time you weren’t famous…” I trailed off, the two of us sharing a knowing look. Mingyu nodded solemnly and then raised his camera, turning it on.

“Two weeks ago, I had a wedding, that one was a big hit, made a lot of money!” He said with a grin, looking into his camera as he pointed it up towards the sky. I looked up and saw the sky was covered with more clouds now, but the sun was still shining brightly.

“I wanted to ask you to come to our studio for today, but Vernon and Minghao apparently booked a really famous photographer so, you know…I didn’t want to say no to them…”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” Mingyu shrugged and started grinning as he took pictures of Jieun, “Your events are way too prestigious, I might have turned down your offer either way.”

“No, you wouldn’t have, Mingyu.” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows and making him glance at me.

“You sound so sure…why not?”

“Because it’s me asking.” Mingyu’s finger paused mid-air and he gulped before nodding his head wordlessly. It’s moments like this one that give me hope, hope that he still feels something for me. Even if it’s been five years. It was enough time for us to get over the other, but having to spend so much time together again made me realize that I wasn’t even far from being over him. Maybe it’s the memories we share, the time spent together, the pleasant moments, the hardships or the person I shaped into while being with him, but it was really hard to look at him and not feel something more than just platonic feelings. It came as a shock after we finished high school to find out that Joohyun and Wonwoo have been dating for two years in secret. No one ever saw it coming, they never left any hints for us to pick up on, it just seemed like they got along due to Mingyu and I dating and always being together. Turns out, they were dating too at the same time with us, except their relationship worked out. And I couldn’t have been happier, they were perfect for each other and they blessed us with little Jieun, the sweetest kid. When Jieun turned two, Joohyun and Wonwoo decided to get married and tie the knot for a lifetime. I was a little jealous when we got the news of their marriage, I always thought I’d be the one to get married first as Joohyun was closed off and wasn’t ever interested in dating or having a family. I guess it was just a matter of time and person.

My eyes widened when the camera made a sound, this time directed at me. Mingyu was grinning as he kept snapping picture after picture and I raised my middle finger at him while sticking my tongue out.

“Hey!” He gave me a glare before turning the camera back to Jieun, snapping a picture of her as she was playing with the flowers, making a crown for herself, “Look at this!”

Mingyu’s canines showed again as his grin spread bigger, he scooted closer, “Joohyun will love this shot!”

It was a close up of Jieun, she was crouched down with yellow flowers in her hands, her dark hair falling around her shoulders and lips in a soft pout. I smiled and looked at Mingyu, “Why don’t you drop the gym and turn into a professional photographer? You are so talented.”

“Y/N,” He gave me a grin and a scoff, as if I already knew the answer, “You know photography is just a hobby for me—”

“Doesn’t it pay better than that smelly gym you work at?” I interrupted him with my eyebrows raised. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned around to take more pictures of the nature.

“Smelly or not, I really like working there…” He muttered and Jieun shrieked, alerting us.

“Jieun?” I asked loudly, eyebrows raised when she turned around, she was holding something brown between her fingers.

“It’s a caterpillar!” She exclaimed excitedly, waving the small animal between her fingers.

“Say hi and put it back into the earth, okay?” I called back and Mingyu snorted as he looked up from his camera.

“This one goes for Wonwoo…” He grinned to himself, looking at me, “His daughter ain’t a pussy like your sister—”

“Mingyu!” I threw him a glare and punched his arm, “Irene hates every little insect, you know that. It’s not her fault—”

“It technically is though.” He gave me a pouty look and I snorted and shook my head. I extended my arms over my head and stretched, hearing the camera go off again, before laying down on the blanket. I groaned loudly as the tension eased from my lower back and I relaxed into the earth, closing my eyes to breathe in deeply the warm air. It was tranquil, the moment felt nice, Jieun’s laughter and chatter faded nicely into the background. I let my muscles relax and enjoy the moment of calmness, that is until weight was dumped on me. I yelped loudly, eyes opening and muscles tensing as I went to sit up but Mingyu’s hand pushed me back down.

“Don’t get up!” He exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed, “Why’d you move?!”

I threw him a glare as I watched him whine more, pushing his ass against my pelvis and sitting on me.

“Mingyu, I don’t know if anyone has made you aware of this, but you are heavy!” I exclaimed again, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“I won’t get off until you give me the same expression you did a few seconds ago—”

“How can I do that when a man is literally crushing me?” I raised my eyebrows and Mingyu scoffed, pushing up onto his knees but still straddling me.

“Happy?”

“Not until you completely get off.” I gave him a sweet smile and Mingyu threw me a glare as Jieun’s loud laughter came from behind him.

“Why are you sitting on auntie?” She asked giggling.

“Good question, Jieun, I think he wants to crush auntie—”

“I was just trying to take a picture of auntie, Jieun, but she’s stubborn and wants to upset me.” Mingyu said pouting, giving Jieun a sad look.

“Well, hurry up auntie then, I want to go inside—I’m tired.” Just as she finished speaking, she yawned and pouted.

“Five more minutes and we go take a nap, okay?” I smiled at Jieun and she nodded before running back to the swing. I looked back up at Mingyu and gulped as I stared into his eyes, the butterflies in my stomach kicking off.

“Make it quick, okay?” I sighed out and closed my eyes, willing my body to relax and let go. Forget that Mingyu is straddling me and dangling his camera in my face like all those times when we were still dating. The camera went off and so did my heart, it started beating faster and faster as all the memories swam in my mind tauntingly.

The basketball court was full of students as everyone was in recess. I was sitting with my friends on a bench underneath a tree to hide from the blazing sun as we all ate our lunch and gazed out onto the field, where the basketball team was shooting around. All guys were tall, the team consisted of mostly juniors and seniors, but Yuto, a guy my age, made it into the team due to his height.

“Ah!” Yuna exclaimed next to me, eyes following a boy, “Look at Wonwoo! He’s so handsome!”

“He’s a good player…” I muttered as I finished up my lunch.

“He could be the worst and I’d still love him!” Yuna mused and the rest of our friends agreed with her. I rolled my eyes when someone from behind us scoffed.

“So, you only watch the basketball team because the players are handsome?” The voice was sharp and I rolled my eyes, turning to face my sister.

“You’re still moody?” I asked her and she shook her head, coming to stand in front of me and blocking my view of the field.

“No, I passed my chemistry test, I’m feeling better.” She gave me a wide grin and extended her arm. She was holding a small cartoon of chocolate milk and my eyes lit up.

“Unnie!” I gave her a big grin and stood up to give her a brief hug, “Thank you!”

“Yeah, mom told me you forgot to pack one.”

“You’re the best.” Joohyun chuckled and pinched my cheek aggressively.

“You only say that when I give you something or do something for you—”

“Joohyun—” My friends shrieked and both Joohyun and I jumped as a ball hit my sister’s back. She hissed and turned sharply, the ball bouncing on the ground.

“Joohyun—” My friends started but Wonwoo running over shut them up quickly.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice was laced with worry and Joohyun glared the boy down. She was a lot shorter but her gaze could always make her seem powerful and scary. She leaned down wordlessly and picked the basketball up.

“Be careful next time, Wonwoo.” Her voice was soft, a contrast to the look on her face.

“Sorry, Joohyun.” Wonwoo bowed his head a bit, hands extending to take the ball from my sister. She glanced down at the ball before handing it over, their hands brushing against each other and small smiles appearing on their faces. The snap of a camera distracted me from throwing a suspicious look at the two in front of me. A tall guy, taller than Wonwoo, was holding up a camera to his left eye as he grinned.

“Yah! Kim Mingyu!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Yah! Bae Y/N!” He imitated my voice, pushing his lips out into an exaggerated pout.

“I don’t look like that!” I snapped at him with a glare as Mingyu walked closer.

“Yes, you do.” He taunted, the camera hanging at his side. Wonwoo and Joohyun chuckled behind me and I glanced back to see them lost in their own conversation.

“Stop pouting, you’re too cute.” Mingyu cooed and I punched his bicep as he started leaning down.

“Why do you keep taking pictures of me—” My words got muffled when Mingyu pressed a small kiss against my lips, a smile appearing on my lips.

“What were you complaining about?” He whispered as he pulled back just a little bit, making my smile widen.

“Nothing.” I muttered and as I went to press another kiss against his lips, his camera went off again. My eyes snapped open to find Mingyu giggling as he was looking down at the picture he took, cheeks rosy.

“Yah! Kim Mingyu!” I exclaimed and raised my arm to punch his arm again but he suddenly jumped back. He stuck his tongue out and I glared at him.

“You two are so immature.” I heard Wonwoo saying from behind me.

“He won’t stop taking pictures of me!” I snapped, watching as Mingyu was slowly raising his camera up again, “Don’t you dare—”

Snap. Oh, that’s it, he asked for it. I took off running towards him but Mingyu just giggled loudly and took off too, running ahead of me.

“You can’t catch me!” He shouted as he turned his head before running faster.

“Screw your long legs!” I shouted after him as I chased him around the basketball field, underneath the blazing sun.

“I love you!” He shouted while trying to take more pictures of me, almost falling when he tripped on a rock.

“You’re an idiot!” I screamed after him, laughing when he almost fell, “I love you!”

“I know you do!” He winked cockily and slowed his running, making me think I’d finally catch up. But when he was in arms reach, he sped up again while cackling evilly. I let out a frustrated cry and continued chasing him, unphased by the looks the students were giving us.

The click of the camera brought me back to the present and I opened my eyes to find Mingyu with his eyebrows raised and a small smile on his lips. His personality didn’t change much since high school but his looks did. It’s not like that mattered much, I didn’t like him for his looks, it was his personality that drew me in at first. His looks were just a plus.

“I want to go in!” Jieun came running to us, whining loudly.

“We are going.” I smiled at her as she looked down at me with a pout and I looked up at Mingyu with raised eyebrows. He blinked and looked at me for a second before he realized he was straddling me, so he got off and helped me off the blanket as well.

“Can you please clean up? I have a Yoga class in half an hour.” I said after looking at my wrist watch.

“And Jieun?” Mingyu asked as he started gathering the things we gathered on the blanket.

“I’ll put her to sleep, don’t worry about her.” I gave Jieun a smile and crouched down, opening my arms, “Do you want auntie to carry you to your room?”

“Yes!” Jieun exclaimed, her droopy eyes widening as she climbed into my arms quickly. I patted her back and walked inside the house, towards her room upstairs.

Jieun took longer than I expected to fall asleep, leaving me ten minutes to get ready for my Yoga class. I closed her door carefully after drawing her curtains closed and raced into the master bedroom, opening Joohyun’s closet. We go to Yoga class twice a week together so I have my clothes here, in case, I don’t have time to go home from the studio. We were supposed to go together today but since I had to be at the studio, we decided to postpone it. Thankfully, our Yoga instructor does online classes in the afternoon for those who couldn’t attend it in the morning. I quickly got dressed in my olive khaki green leggings and matching sports bra, rushing downstairs quietly, to Joohyun’s study room, where we kept our mattresses. She had enough space in her office, so I decided to lay out the Yoga mat underneath the window and quickly turned on her laptop, logging onto the platform of my instructor. In the big rush, I forgot to close the door and I could hear Mingyu coming and going from the garden, bringing everything inside like I asked him to do. I pulled my hair in a low ponytail and took a comfortable seat on the mat as the instructor started the class.

“Good afternoon!” She greeted with a big smile on her lips, her voice raspy but honey-like, “Good to see some familiar faces around; Y/N…”

I smiled and turned on the microphone, “Nice to see you! Joohyun and I couldn’t make it in the morning, we were both busy.”

“Is she not joining us today?” The instructor asked as more cameras got turned on, there was a total of ten people in today’s class.

“No, she’s not at home, at the moment.” I answered her and as the backdoor was closed, loud singing rang through the hallway. Mingyu’s deep voice bounced around the quiet house and my eyes widened as I quickly shut off my microphone, embarrassed when I saw some ladies smiling through their cameras. I glanced out in the hallway as Mingyu passed by the office, unaware that I was inside, as he bobbed his head to his own rhythm while he continued singing. Did he forget I put Jieun to sleep? He’s going to wake her up. But before I could quickly go and shut him up and close the door to the office, our instructor alerted us that we were starting the session.

“I prepared a relaxing Yoga sequence for today, a thirteen-minute-long practice,” She said with a smile as we took a comfortable seat in Lotus pose, “It’s the middle of the week, but we might be feeling burned out a little bit. I know that I do!”

I chuckled as I straightened my back, aligning head over heart, and heart over pelvis, “You can turn on your microphones as we are about to take deep breaths together, let us hear each other.”

I quickly reached over and turned on the microphone, as did the other ladies, whom I were familiar with from other classes, “Good, now let’s take five deep breaths in, tuck your chins, straighten your backs and close your eyes, empty your mind.”

I did as I was told, willing my muscles to relax as everyone took deep five breaths, emptying our lungs out loudly. It was a relaxing motion and it always helped me focus on the task I was about to do, my mind was a buzzing place 24/7. But my tranquil moment ended when Mingyu’s voice rose a few octaves and he started sputtering words after words. I opened one eye to see if the others could hear him as well, but upon seeing no reaction, I quickly closed my eye and took one more deep breath to relax again.

“Let us stretch our side bodies now.” With eyes open, I followed the instructor, breathing deeply still, “This is a great moment to take a step back from your busy lives and reflect on yourselves. Get lost in the silence and the guidance of my voice, trust your bodies and meet me in a tabletop position.”

I smiled and slowly moved into the position, cracking my lower back in the process, “Let’s do three rounds of cat and cow now, everyone following their own rhythm. We are not here to rush today.”

Closing my eyes, I arched my back into a cow position, letting out a quiet sigh when a few vertebras popped, then starting from the tailbone, I curled up into a cat position. I did that two more times while breathing deep, hearing the other ladies do the same calmed my nerves a little bit. I got lost in my own world, finally, blocking out sounds from the outside that didn’t serve me in this moment.

“On your next breath in, bring your big toes together and widen your knees as big as your mat, then meet me in extended child’s pose, with active fingers.” The instructor spoke up, and we followed, “Let’s wake up the muscles in our upper backs while opening our heart space, okay?”

The skin of my lower back and upper back were getting a good stretch as I gently rocked from side to side at the hips, loosening up the tight joints, breathing deeply.

“Make your next inhale the longest breath you’ve taken all day long and, on your exhale, let go of everything that doesn’t serve you by using lion’s breath,” I filled my lungs with air to the brim and paused at the top for three second before sticking my tongue out, eyes looking at my third eye and letting all the air out, similar sighs coming through the laptop.

“Carefully moving, let’s meet in downward dog, but only proceed from a tabletop position.” I raised back into a tabletop position and carefully, knees bent and arms placed at a wide distance on the map, I raised into a downward dog position, heels coming down on the earth.

“Let’s pedal it out,” The instructor said, “Your heels don’t have to come down to the earth straight away, pedal them out first, feel your muscles stretch and when you did all that, grow heavy in your heels and come to a still position for three deep cleansing breaths.”

I moved my legs as if I was walking, in one place, pedaling them out and sighing out when my hamstrings got the stretch they so desperately needed. I ground my heels down and stilled my movements, taking deep breaths. As I took in my last set of deep breath, the floor creaked in the doorway and I opened my eyes, seeing Mingyu upside down from this position, standing in the doorway. His jaw was hung open but when we made eye-contact, a wide smirk spread on his lips.

“Damn,” He muttered as he leaned against the doorframe, “If you only had this ass back in high school too—”

I gasped as my cheeks flushed, the sudden laughter coming from the laptop making Mingyu jump. His eyes widened as he looked towards the screen, and as I lowered from the downward dog, I caught the faint tint of red on his cheeks. The ladies were still giggling, the instructor’s eyebrows raised curiously.

“Uh—I’m really sorry—he didn’t know my microphone was on—”

“Good evening, ladies,” Mingyu smiled charmingly, they could see him well through the camera, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll quickly head out.”

“Now, now,” The instructor said with a chuckle as Mingyu slowly left, throwing me a smirk that made me glare at him, “We needed that laughter, didn’t we, ladies?”

There was a chorus of agreements and my cheeks flushed again as I chuckled in embarrassment, “Sorry, he’s—”

“A charming young man, indeed,” The instructor interrupted me with a small smile, “let’s try to focus once again though and repeat our downward dog before we proceed with our practice.”

And we did proceed with our relaxing practice, but the problem was I couldn’t relax with Mingyu continuously walking in and out of Irene’s study room and always whispering things at me. At first, he was asking for some books Wonwoo recommended him to read, then he took a seat on Irene’s couch and started reading out loud but in a whisper, meanwhile I kept throwing glares at him. Does he know he’s supposed to leave me alone? By the time the class took an end I wasn’t anywhere relaxed, instead I was angry and irritated. The practice was supposed to make me feel light and relaxed but due to Mingyu bothering me, it didn’t work out. When we were talking leisurely after we finished the practice, Mingyu dangled his head into the camera. The ladies started laughing again and he had a heartful conversation with my Yoga instructor, to which he even got an invitation to her class after he complained about his muscles being stiff after a long day at the gym. When we were saying our goodbye’s, a lady had the audacity to call Mingyu and I, a cute and playful couple, which I wanted to deny but before I could, Mingyu was nodding and thanking her making my heart pump quickly. Once the call was over, Mingyu sat back on the couch and I proceeded to roll up Irene’s mat and placed it back to its place, throwing a glare at a grinning Mingyu. My eyes fell on the book he tormented me with and I took it in my hand and whacked him over the head.

“Hey!” He exclaimed and started rubbing his head, “What are you doing?!”

“What are you doing?!” I snapped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I took the Yoga class to relax a little bit but thanks to you I just became more irritated!”

“You did?” He raised his eyebrows and I went to whack him again but he caught my arm and quickly jumped up, “Okay, okay, I get it! Sorry, I won’t do it next time!”

“Of course, you won’t. There’s no next time.” I rolled my eyes and let Mingyu take the book from me and place it back onto the shelf.

“What are you saying?” He asked with a chuckle, becoming amused when I sighed and looked at him expectantly, “I got an invitation to your instructor’s next class and I’m definitely not going to miss it—”

“Hell, no.” I snapped and turned around to leave the office, but not before opening the window to let fresh air in, “So that you torment me there too? No, thank you.”

“Come on! I won’t!” Mingyu whined as he followed after me, closing the door behind me, “I’ll take it seriously!”

“You won’t, I know you too well, Kim Mingyu.” I said with a snort as I started walking up the stairs, Mingyu still following close behind.

“Please?” He looked at me with puppy eyes when I glanced back, “I’ll let you drive me around, okay?”

“As if I want to do that.” I scoffed as I walked to the master bedroom to get my clothes before I head to shower.

“I know you do,” A smirk crossed Mingyu’s lips as he blocked my way, “I heard from Wonwoo you bought a new Mercedes, I just know you’re dying to show it off to me.”

“Am not.” I said with a scoff, biting my lip afterwards. Oh, and how right he is, I can’t wait to pick him up from work and drive him here, in my new light turquoise Mansory S-Class Cabriolet, the next time we are having dinner with Joohyun, Wonwoo, and Jieun.

“You do,” Mingyu cooed and I rolled my eyes as I side stepped him, heading out the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

“Now, stay quiet and don’t wake Jieun, I want to shower.”

“Go, go,” Mingyu ushered me inside the bathroom, gripping the handle, “Relax now, since you couldn’t while doing Yoga.”

“Dickhead—” He cut me off by closing the door in my face and I could hear his giggles as he walked away, his footsteps still loud. I groaned and quickly put my hair in a bun, turning on the warm water in the shower stall. The bathroom upstairs was bigger and it was divided in two in such way that if someone was showering another person could still come in because you wouldn’t see them, as the shower stall was just behind the other wall.

And there’s a reason why I usually avoid showering upstairs. It’s so big that the person won’t even hear the running water and often times would walk in, it happened with both Joohyun and Wonwoo while I showered, when they newly bought the house. Like I said, they still couldn’t see you, but the thought alone was enough to drive me away from showering upstairs and just using the downstairs shower. And that same thing happened while I was massaging an exfoliating soap onto my skin. The door opened and I heard feet thudding inside loudly.

“Jieun?” I called out, straining my ears to hear the person inside, “Did you have a nightmare and wake up? Mingyu is downstairs sweety, I’m showering, you can go to him—”

“Yeah,” My eyes widened at the male voice and I quickly turned around in the shower stall, making sure he didn’t already approach me, “Mingyu is upstairs, actually.”

“What the hell are you doing inside, Mingyu?!” I exclaimed, frozen as I listened closely, “I’m showering!”

“Uh, yeah, I know, you told me and I hear the water running—”

“What the fuck are you doing inside then?!” I exclaimed again, eyebrows furrowing when Mingyu cursed loudly.

“Fuck, I stubbed my toe!” He hissed and I scoffed as I quickly rinsed off the soap, “And I know, but I was bored downstairs alone…”

“So, you just come and intrude on a woman while she’s showering? Because that’s fine?” I snapped; eyebrows raised even if he couldn’t see me. I heard the toilet making sounds and realized Mingyu closed the lid and sat on top of it.

“Hey, don’t make me sound like a creep!”

“You are being a creep right now, though.” I pointed out as I took my regular, tropical scented, body lotion and spread it on my body.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t even see anything, you know that, I just—” He let out a long sigh and my eyebrows raised as I paused.

“You just, what?” I asked curiously as I let the warm water wash off the body lotion.

“I was wondering, like, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, actually, you know…” There was a pause as Mingyu cleared his throat before he continued, “Just…after we broke up, you know…did you date anyone else? Like, had a boyfriend, girlfriend, or something…”

My eyebrows furrowed at the odd question, not expecting it from Mingyu, we never talked about relationships or partners. We always stayed away from the topic that involved our personal lives for multiple reasons, so it was a surprise that he finally asked about it, especially when I was showering.

“I mean…” I let out a breath, standing underneath the warm water, “It’s been five years since we…broke up, so…yeah. I had…three…boyfriends.”

“Oh,” Mingyu sounded surprised and I grimaced waiting for him to continue speaking, “Yeah, I had a lot of flings during college, then a serious girlfriend that lasted for a year only, so…”

He chuckled, but I could hear he didn’t take it lightly, it bothered him that it didn’t work out. Something was bothering him still; I could hear it in his voice.

“Well, you know, I don’t know if Joohyun and Wonwoo talked about me and if they did and Wonwoo told you, but…” I took a deep breath and turned off the water, reaching for the long towel, “You pretty much broke my heart, no joke.”

Mingyu remained quiet as I placed the towel around my body and secured it tightly at my breasts, “I don’t blame you now, with this mentality, and I don’t hate you either anymore.”

We both chuckled at the same time and Mingyu sighed as we both stayed put where we were standing, “Honestly, I was a big dick back then. Breaking up with you because I wanted to get the whole college experience—I was a fucking idiot, to be honest.”

“You still are…” I muttered and Mingyu chuckled before he sighed again, “Actually…you know, how I was supposed to come with a plus one to my sister and Wonwoo’s wedding?”

“Yeah, and then you showed up with—”

“Minghao,” We said at the same time.

“Yeah, Minghao, and everyone was fucking confused from your family.” Mingyu continued talking, “Even Wonwoo…I still don’t get what the fuss was about.”

“I was supposed to come with my fiancé—”

“Fiancé?!” Mingyu choked out and I giggled, “You had a fiancé at the age of twenty-one, what the fuck?! And you didn’t tell me?!”

“We met when I was nineteen, actually, but back then I was kinda playing around with two guys, you know…still not over you, dickhead, but then him and I got closer and we got engaged three months before the wedding.” I explained, enjoying when Mingyu gasped.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know?” I asked with a chuckle, leaning my head against the wet tiles of the shower stall, “We realized we were too different? I don’t know, honestly, but I’m glad we broke up. I don’t think we were a good match.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too.” I scoffed and I heard shuffling, meaning Mingyu stood up, “Why did even Vernon show up at the wedding? He wasn’t even invited—”

“Two drunk calls from Minghao and I were enough to bring him around—”

“And then I had to drive the three of you home, yeah, I remember.” Mingyu didn’t sound amused and I started laughing.

“Well, if you were dumb enough to come by car and not with a cab like everyone else…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mingyu scoffed and he cleared his throat again and hesitated to speak, “So, uhm, I was thinking…let’s go on a date?”

I blinked once and then twice and paused. Kim Mingyu was asking me on a date? Or was I hallucinating?

“I really should have waited after you finished showering, not seeing your face is frustrating.” He groaned to himself and I chuckled.

“To your information, I’m gaping right now,” Mingyu chuckled and I pursed my lips, “You want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I think we are both mature enough to start things over, if we wanted to,” He sighed and I licked my lips, pushing off from the wall, “At least, I want to if you’re not against it.”

“Did spending your day with me make you nostalgic, Kim Mingyu?” I asked with a chuckle and he just hummed. I didn’t know how to feel. Did I still have feelings for him? Yes. Did he hurt me already once? Yes. But as he said, we are adults now, we view things differently now. I’m still unsure however.

“I can’t give you an answer right now,” I decided to be honest with him, he deserved it, “Give me time to think.”

He hummed quietly and I knew he wasn’t expecting that answer and he was disappointed, but he quickly spoke up, “I’ll go wake Jieun so that we can prepare dinner together.”

And he was out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with my conflicting thoughts. Did I want to go on a date with him? Yes. Was I afraid we wouldn’t work out anymore and I’d lose him forever? Yes.

After Jieun woke up, the three of us went downstairs and prepared dinner together, spending a good hour in the kitchen. But it still wasn’t dinner time so we snuggled up on the couch in the living room and watched a family movie together, Mingyu bringing us a big blanket to keep us warm. Jieun was snuggled up into his side, putting Mingyu into the middle, and I threw him a curious glance when he kept shifting around, until his arm was around my shoulders and his body was leaning onto mine.

“It’s comfier.” He whispered, keeping his eyes on the TV and I shook my head before looking back towards the TV and feeling my cheeks heat up. It felt nice being snuggled up next to him, his warmth enveloping mine and creating a feeling of calmness and safety. If there was a feeling I missed after Mingyu left me, it was the safety I felt whenever I was with him. His bigger body and the way he carried himself and even interacted when he was with me made it obvious to me that he’d do anything to keep me safe and that I shouldn’t worry. So, in the middle of the movie I cleared my throat and glanced up at him to see him already looking down at me.

“Let’s go on that date.” I whispered quietly at him and instantly Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, squeezing my shoulder tightly for a few seconds before he sighed out happily. I chuckled and placed a palm against his beating hart, cheeks flushing when I felt his quick pulse. A feeling of fulfilment filled my senses and I couldn’t help the smile spreading onto my own lips.

After the movie was over, the moon was high up in the sky, and we headed to the kitchen to have dinner. Jieun excitedly told us stories about her encounters with other kids in kindergarten and how she kept tricking her nanny into giving her candy without her mom and dad knowing. Dinner was filled with giggles and Mingyu throwing me glances every few minutes, eyes warm and happy. Jieun even pointed it out at some point, asking us if we were hiding a secret or surprise from her. When we reassured her that no, we weren’t, she pouted and settled on finishing her dinner quietly while Mingyu and I conversed about what we did the one month we didn’t meet up, laughing at the memories we shared in high school when one brought it up randomly. After dinner, Jieun had a warm bubble bath and I braided her hair in two, helping her into her pajamas before Mingyu and I tucked her in bed. We were both sitting on each side of her bed, her bedside lap turned on and we chatted for a little while, until she fell asleep.

“You know,” Jieun muttered sleepily, her eyes already closed, “Uncle and auntie act just like dad and mommy. Will you have babies too? I’ll have someone to play with forever…”

Mingyu and I shared a look as I chuckled and leaned over Jieun, cradling her cheek, “Auntie and uncle aren’t like that, Jieun. There’s men and women who are just friends, who love each other but never make babies, because it’s not that kind of love, you know?”

“Don’t worry, Jieunie,” Mingyu leaned closer too, a devilish smirk crossing his lips, “Uncle will convince auntie to make babies so that you’ll have someone to play with, okay?”

Jieun’s eyes opened and she grinned widely as I threw Mingyu a glare, “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

“Hey!” I exclaimed quietly as the two pinky promised in front of me with grins on their lips as if I wasn’t even there, “It’s not that easy to make babies—”

“We’ll figure it out.” Mingyu cut me off with a wink and I scoffed, leaning down and kissing Jieun’s cheek.

“Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, chipmunk.” Jieun grinned as Mingyu pressed a quick kiss against her forehead and then we got up, turned off her bedside lamp and turned on her fairy lights. Quietly closing her door, we descended down the stairs and I could feel Mingyu smirking next to me, his hand continuously brushing against mine.

“Stop giving Jieun false hope, dickhead.” I snapped finally, making Mingyu giggled. He was expecting my reaction, as we walked back to the living room.

“I was being serious, Bae.” I groaned as Mingyu turned on the TV, putting on some random movie as we sat down on the couch, pulling the blanket over us again. We remained silent during the movie, enjoying the presence of the other, and my heart started racing when Mingyu interlaced his fingers with mine underneath the blanket and placed our hands on his thigh. I didn’t realize I wanted this until it happened, and I couldn’t be gladder. Because in this world, there was no one like Kim Mingyu, and he was mine.

My one and only true love.

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colormeyondublue · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11: Clear The Air

Chapter 10 Here - Chapter 12 Here

Several days go by, and Yondu doesn��t see much of you. What happened with Trenvik really damaged what confidence you had aboard the Eclector. This really took it’s toll on you both mentally and physically. You feel violated. The event could have been worse, but that Chorak still took something away from you. Although you really can’t pin down what that something is, you just feel helpless and weak. Kraglin has been bringing you meals while you work from your cabin. He stops by three times a day, and a few times in between just to check up on you. The two of you have gotten pretty close over the past few days. There is a soft knocking on your door, and Kraglin pokes his head inside after punching in your key on the number pad.

“Hey, I gotcha some tea. I wasn’t sure if ya’d be hungry yet, but I thought at least somethin’ warm might be nice.” He approaches your desk and sets the cup down, steam gently rising from the top.

“Thanks, Kraglin. Tea does sound nice.” You don’t really move or say much else. The silence begins to get tense, and Kraglin taps his thumbs together.

“So…ya think ya might wanna take a walk with me today? We don’t have to go far, and the guys are all off ship, nobody is around – promise.”

“Off ship? Where are we?” You ask, rather surprised.

“Cap’n wanted to take the boys out for a little break. He brought us to our usual place, Contraxia. We usually do that after a big score. That client paid us real well for them jewels ‘n stuff we took from Johpar. We’ll be sittin’ pretty fer a while.” He smiles.

“Contraxia?! Oh, god.” You roll your eyes and bring your palm to your forehead. You know a little about this planet, your boss used to talk about it when you were slow at the pawn shop. All you know is that there’s hookers, and drugs, and tons of booze.

“Ya know this place?” Kraglin asks with one eyebrow raised.

“I’ve never been here, but I know of it. My old boss used to talk about this planet. I’ve heard all I need to know.” You roll your eyes and play with the tag on the tea bag.

“Oh. Well, we don’t have ta leave the ship if ya don’t wanna. I just think it would be good fer ya ta get outta this room. You’ll go nuts in here!”

“Where’s Yondu?”

“I think he’s at a bar down there with Tullk, Oblo and some of the others.”

You sigh and sip your tea. You really don’t like the idea of Yondu being down there. Trust was something that the two of you hadn’t really had a ton of time to work on, but he did save your life the other day, so why wouldn’t you trust him to be faithful? I guess it’s good for morale. The Captain does need to be out with his men.

“How about this - I finish my tea and get dressed, and you can take me down to that disgusting excuse of a planet and show me around a little? But absolutely no brothels! Deal?”

“Deal! Go ahead and get ready and I’ll meet ya down at the docking bay in 20?”

You laugh lightly at his excitement and playfully nudge him. “Sounds good…” Just before he gets to the door you stop him. “Hey, Kraglin? Thank you…for making sure I was okay and checking up on me these past few days. What happened with Trenvik…it really did something to me, ya know?”

“Don’t mention it. Yer one of us. But more than that, ya make the Cap’n real happy. That makes me real happy. Cap and I go back a long ways, and ya mean a lot to us both y/n.” He smiles gently and nods, and disappears out your door.

You get dressed in a clean set of leathers and throw a coat over top with a black scarf. Unless anything has changed, you remember your boss talking about how it snows on Contraxia year-round. You find your mind wondering back to Kraglin again as you lace up your boots. Ya know, Kraglin is such a great guy. If he wasn’t so damn shy, he wouldn’t be single. Poor guy. You smirk at the thought.

~~~

You and Kraglin touch down on Contraxia and you both walk toward the bars and brothels in the snow. The streets are lit with loads of neon lights and signs. You notice there are a few restaurants and tattoo shops too.

“Hey, I think the Cap’n and the guys are at that bar over there.” Kraglin points to a larger metal building with a sign on the side that seems to be in a language you can’t read.

“Uh, Kraglin? Can we just…not go in there?”

“Why? Did ya wanna go somewhere else?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah, that would be great. I just don’t really want to see the Captain yet.”

“Are you two okay?”

“I think so, it’s just…something else happened before you guys went to Knowhere.” You rub your arms from the cold. “Is there somewhere else we can go to talk about it? Somewhere quiet?”

“Uhh, sure. There’s a little coffee place at the end of the road here.”

“Coffee?!”

Kraglin laughs loudly at your reaction. “Yeah, coffee. We do have some Terran things out here, ya know. We don’t have much, but coffee has definitely gained popularity over the years. There’s even some little farms that grow that stuff on Xandar. Just ‘cause ya ain’t seen other races on yer planet, don’t mean we haven’t stopped by ta look around."

“Woah…I had no idea. That’s really cool. A little unnerving, but cool. Remind me to ask you more about that later. I need coffee! Let’s go!” You grab Kraglin’s hand and hurry down the street toward the shop.

The two of you enter the coffee shop, and find a seat near the window. After your drinks arrive, you speak up after taking a few sips.

“Okay, so before you guys left the ship, I kinda said something to the Captain I maybe shouldn’t have...not yet at least.”

“What kinda’ somethin’”?

You hide your face behind your hands and sigh. “I might have accidentally told the Captain that I loved him, among other things. Truthfully, I do – ya know, love him. But he didn’t say much of anything back and I panicked.” You don’t hear a reply for a few seconds. You drop your hands to see what horrific expression Kraglin has on his face. To your surprise, there isn’t any expression, he is just nonchalantly drinking his coffee.

“He told me.”

“What?! He told you?!”

“Yeah, he told me. To be honest, I wasn’t all too surprised. You Terran’s have a thing about love. You’d be surprised how alike Terrans are to us Xandarian’s. We have a thing about love too. That’s something Quill and I always had in common. We understood each other, I guess that’s why we got along so damn well.” He finished with a smile.

“Okaaay, so what else did he say?”

“Look y/n, yer my friend, and I care about ya a lot. That’s why I think you ‘n the Cap’n should talk about it. I will say that he ain’t mad or put off, but he just ain’t used to it. The Cap’n hasn’t had the most fantastic life. Love ain't never really been apart of it neither. Just be patient with him is all.”

After a few minutes of silence pass, Kraglin speaks up again. “Maybe ya should talk to him tonight? Just clear the air and see where things go?”

A light laugh bubbles up to your lips and you look at him, not surprised. “Since when did you get so good at relationship advice?”

Kraglin just shrugs. “Honestly, couldn’t tell ya. Maybe I’m just level headed? Dunno.”

“You really shoudn’t be single, ya know that?” You tease.

“I had a girl a long time ago. But, bein’ a Ravager makes relationships hard. Unless another girl just falls from the stars onto our ship, I don’t see that being in the cards fer me.”

“Yeah, well, if things can turn around for Yondu, I’m sure they can for you too.”

~~~

Back at the bar, Yondu couldn’t really get into the celebration spirit. Your frightened expression from the other day in your office wouldn’t leave his mind. The men were beyond happy with their payday, and super drunk. Sex bots were everywhere, and it was all he could do to keep them off of him. He eventually decides to just leave. He gets up from his stool, and Tullk taps his arm.

“Hey, ya alright Cap’n?”

“Yeah, yeah ‘m fine. Just tired, gonna head out.”

“We’ll see ya later then?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies as he’s walking out the door.

Yondu heads back to the Warbird so he can call Quill. He’s got to know what to do. Quill is Terran, and he’s…younger. Maybe he’ll have some kind of advice on how to handle this.

He sits down and taps a few buttons on the console. The screen beeps for a few moments and then an image pops up. He sees a large grayish green looking man with bright red tattoos.

“Oh, Hello Yondu. Are you looking for Quill?” Before he can answer, Drax turns and yells behind himself. “QUILL! Your father is on the communicator! He needs to speak with you!”

Yondu leans his face onto his fist and rolls his eyes. These “Guardians” are really somethin’…

From the distance, Yondu can hear Peter yell back, “My Father? What the heck are you talkin’ about Drax?” Peter comes into view and see’s Yondu’s unamused expression on screen. “Oh, hey ol’ man, what’s up?”

“I got somethin’ I need ta talk with ya about, but it seems like yer a little busy.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was just helpin’ Rocket with some plans for a new blaster that launches explosives! We just left Xandar, we were picking up some supplies. What did you need?” Quill asks.

“This ain’t an easy thing ta talk about…do ya think ya could go to another room er somethin’? I don’t need everybody hearin’ all about it.”

Peter’s expression turns a mixture of concerned and awkward. “Uhh…yeah sure. Is everything okay?” he moves Yondu’s transmission onto a handheld communicator and heads to the back of the ship. He enters his quarters and closes the door. “Okay, shoot.”

Yondu takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly to try and calm his nerves. “Long story short, Krags and I hired a new Terran girl to help with record keeping, transmission logs and mission details and stuff. We’ve gotten close over that time and now, well…she’s ma girl.”

“Woah! Yondu! She’s really Terran?! That’s so awesome man! I always knew you had it in you. What’s her name?”

“Her name’s y/n, and she’s really somethin’. I never met anyone like her. She’s really special ta me, but there’s somethin’ else I need to ask ya.”

“Okay…”

“The other day we made a stop out at Knowhere to sell some stuff, and she said somethin’ ta me. We both kinda panicked, but I think it might’a been my fault. See, she told me she loved me, but she said it so casually and it came out so natural soundin’. I didn’t expect it at all, and I didn’t exactly say anything back. She freaked out and ran off. Now, I don’t know what ta do! Is that normal fer Terrans?”

“Wow, okay. That’s a lot to unpack. So, let me ask you this. Do you love her?”

“Well, see that’s the other thing I need to ask ya. I don’t exactly know what that is. Boy, I ain’t Terran, and I ain’t no good with this love stuff. I figured, with ya bein’ Terran ‘n all, you might know what it means ta love someone and maybe ya’d know if that’s what y/n and I have.” Yondu’s expression turns sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck as he waits for Peter’s answer.

“Oh, that’s easy! Love is something that happens between two people, and it’s a feeling that is super strong. You feel like you can do anything – unstoppable almost. Some people say it makes you feel like you’re floating, like you could almost fly. There’re loads of movies about love I remember from being a kid. The point is, you’d do anything to see them smile, you want to always make sure they’re happy and cared for. Gamora is in a similar boat with you, but we work on it.” Peter’s smile grows at the mention of Gamora.

“Well shit…” Yondu stares at something on his control council. “Okay, so yeah…I think that about pins it down.”

“So, you love her?” Peter asks.

“Heh, yeah boy, I guess I do.”

“Alright, well there you go! Look man, love is supposed to be easy. That’s not to say that you won’t have any disagreements or the occasional fight. That’s normal, but let go and just try to fall in.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. So, I guess all that’s left ta do is go tell her. Right?”

“Right.” Peter crosses his arms confidently and glances off screen. “Anything else you need? Rocket sounds like he’s getting pissed. I want to make sure he doesn’t blow something up or break anything.”

“Yeah boy, that’s it. But listen, thanks. I was at ma wits end over here.”

“No problem, Yondu. Now go tell her!” Peter laughs.

“Alright, alright. I’m goin’!” Yondu ends the call, and heads off the Warbird to find you.

Yondu starts to make his way back to the bars when he notices you and Kraglin walking to his smaller M-ship. The captain makes his way toward you in the snow, and you stop short.

Kraglin notices you stop. “Ey, it’s okay. You should talk to ‘em. I’ll see ya back on the Eclector?” He says as he reassuringly pats your shoulder.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Comm me if ya need anythin’.”

Kraglin walks past Yondu and nods, and he boards his small craft. You stuff your hands in your pockets and watch Yondu approach you.

“Hey, uh…” he starts. “I was wonderin’ if we could talk? Things have been a little off since the other day. Can I take ya back to the Warbird?”

“Yeah, I think that would be fine. We do need to talk.”

As the two of you walk to the Warbird, Yondu throws his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. The warmth and weight of his arm makes your heart flutter. The feeling of security and safety brings a quiet smile to your face. Yondu glances at you from the corner of his eye and smiles too. It’s at this point he remembers what he is about to do. Anxiety strikes him in the chest and he can feel his heart begin to race. He swallows, and closes the door to the M-ship after you step inside with him.

You take a seat in the copilot chair and wait for him to speak first.

“Y/n, there’s somethin’ I been thinkin’ about and I really need to get it off ma chest. The other day, in yer office…well…” he looks down at the floor and begins to pace. “What I’m tryin’ ta say is – shit…this is harder than I thought it was gonna be.”

You get a bad nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach. Yondu can’t seem to find the right words and he’s pacing the ship even further. He’s going to break up with me, oh my god, he is about to break up with me. You can feel tears beginning to form, and he turns to face you. Your thoughts have apparently been written all over your face.

“Oh, no. No darlin’ it ain’t like that. I swear on all the stars, it ain’t nothin’ like that. Look, when ya told me ya loved me the other day, I didn’t know what ta do. No one has ever told me they loved me before. I wadn’t sure what love even meant, let alone how ta love somebody else. Love ain’t exactly somethin’ I’m used to. But now, I think I understand – at least a little.” He takes your hands and pulls you to your feet. With deep pull of breath, he finally gets the courage.

“I love ya too sweetheart. I do. No woman has ever made me so damn crazy before. Ya get inside ma head, make my hands all shaky, and when ya look at me ma heart races out of ma chest. I can’t even begin ta tell ya how outta the norm this is fer me. Heh.” His crooked smile shows how unsure he is. But you can tell that he means every word. You don’t have any words for him in return. His confession was more than you expected, so you pull him toward you for a tender kiss. He wraps you in his strong arms and returns your kiss happily. You both get so lost in each other that you almost forget to breathe. You break away from him and gingerly bite your lip.

“So…now what?” He asks.

“Well, now, we just keep doing what we’re doing. Build and grow, one day at a time. Don’t worry, I’ll show you how.” With a smirk, you head toward the dining area of the ship to get some water.

“Y/n, there’s somethin’ else I been thinkin’ about. What do ya say we make another stop? The crew will be well off for a while, and we have some downtime ahead. I have an idea I’ve been sittin’ on fer a while.”

“Sure, what’s your idea?”

He takes a seat next to you and taps on the table a few times. “I was wantin’ ta take ya back ta Terra fer a visit. Maybe we could find yer family. I know how much ya miss ‘em, and it would bring ‘em some closure. I can imagine they’d be thrilled ta know yer safe…and I wouldn’t mind meetin’ ‘em. If ya think it’d be alright?”

“Back to Earth!? Are you serious?! Yondu! Yes, yes! Oh my god, I can’t believe it!!” You jump into his arms and kiss him excitedly. “It’s been so long. I’d love to show you where I grew up and, well, my family might be a bit shocked – but they’ll get over it.”

“Alright, then. It’s a done deal. I’ll let the crew finish up their…merriment, and we’ll get headed that way.”

In the back of his mind, Yondu knows this is a huge risk. There is chance you’ll find your family, and you might want to stay. If he takes you back to your home, he could lose you forever. However, he understands now, that he’d do anything to make you happy. Even it that happiness takes you away from him.

#Yondu and The Secretary #yondu x reader #Yondu Udonta #gotg fanfiction #fanfic #Starlord #peter quill #love #galactic #kraglin obfonteri #kraglin

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artxyra · 4 years

Note

Hi, could you please write a miraculous ladybug salt with Damianette where Marinette and Damian have been dating since before the show starts. Alya believes Marinette has a crush on Adrian even though Marinette is in a relationship with Damian. Alya then tries to break Damianette up in order to get adrianette together. Also Marinette and Adrian met when they were younger due to the dupain-cheng and Wayne's being friends and the Argeste and Wayne's being business friends. Maybe make it Class salt

Pretending to like Adrien may have been the worst decision of her life. Of course, Adrien agreed to it wanting to pretend to be the oblivious just a friend kind of guy. Marinette and Adrien shared laughs at the thought of their classmates trying to get them together not knowing the extent of their relationship prior to meet them.

Let’s rewind a bit.

It started with Sabine and Emilie went to University to together. They were roommates and the bests of friends. From there, Sabine went into dating the baker’s son while Emilie touch interest in a fashion mogul. Everything was perfect for their little group until business started to grow on international levels. Sabine and Tom jumped to stardom after participating in a baking contest in English and became one of Europe’s celebrities in the food industry. Emilie had grown to be loved on the big screen as Gabriel expanded on the family business taking on building the biggest fashion empire in Paris.

Soon the family of twos welcomes new members: Adrien and Marinette.

The children would send the day at each other’s home when their parents were on business trips. They grew to love each other as brothers and sisters. It was Marinette who asked her parents to send her to big brother's house to show him something she had made. Sabine and Emilie cried together when they realize that their children had taken to calling each other siblings.

When Adrien and Marinette were five, the family was welcomed to a Wayne Gala. Sabine and Tom were quick to become friends with a certain Mr. Wayne. Marinette had expanded who siblings to include Dickie and Tim Tam. Adrien was jealous of the competition regarding Mari’s favorite brother.

All was perfect until Mari meet the latest addition to the Wayne family around the age of ten. Damian Wayne.

He wasn’t like the others, and she had met plenty of the adopted and non-adopted Wayne over the years. He was rude, always looking like he was out to get the world. She at the utmost pleasure in breaking through to the older boy. Her challenge every time she visits was to get him to laugh. She didn’t exceed.

When Adrien went the young Wayne, he screamed and hid behind Marinette, who at the time was taller than the two boys. Adrien hugged Mr. Kitten, his stuff black cat, like a lifeline until Alfred had called the three kids for lunch.

As they have gotten older, Damian took a liking to Marinette and had developed a crush on her. His older siblings found it hilarious when they found the demon lightly brushing at any mention of the Parisian girl.

Unfortunately, a loss entered the Agreste household. Emilie had fallen sick and had disappeared from the face of the earth. Gabriel didn’t know how to deal with the loss, he ended up giving the Dupain-Cheng temporary custody of his son until he figures out his next move. That was the last time anyone had seen M. Agreste in public. Adrien plenty of surrogate siblings to help him through the loss of his mother, but he also ended up losing his father in the process.

Months before they were to enter college, Damian had asked Marinette on a date. Marinette smiles and wrapped her arms the taller boy’s neck. Her boys had grown to be taller than the girl even if it was by a couple of centimeters. Everyone around them suspects that they’ll be at least 5’9” to 6” while Marinette would grow to be Sabine’s height at best.

Celebrations were made at the announcement of the Dupain-Cheng heiress and Wayne heir becoming a couple. Their parents promise their kids a normal relationship despite media interference. The Dupain-Cheng moved into their smaller bakery as it had an apartment upstairs. The perfect front and it was close to the school that they were sending Marinette to for college.

It was all fine and dandy until Marinette and Adrien received their miraculous. Not even a day after they started college. Marinette had taken a liking to the reporter, but she quickly realizes that she is determined, and that kind of determination can last for a long time.

“I’m fine, Dami,” Marinette says to Damian over video chat. She was working on a commission for a client and Adrien was being no help despite being in the same room with her. Damian raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious, they cannot bring me down.”

“She’s lying.” Adrien sings from his position on the chaise. Marinette turns to the blonde model and glares at him.

“Stay sane, Angel. I’m sure she’ll come to her senses.”

“I doubt it, we’re about to graduate lycée and she's still headset of getting Adrien and me together. I’m pretty sure Luka would hate that.” Marinette begins to stitch together the pieces of fabric in front of her.

“In that case, I will gladly put a sword through her if she doesn’t stop.” Marinette smiles and laughs at the thought of Damian putting a sword through Alya.

“Well your lunch is ending soon, we’ll talk later?” Marinette says pulling her focus away from the outfit and to the clock.

“Father will understand if I ditch the other half a day.”

“Dami…”

“I’ll go Angel.” Damian folded. “Are you still on for date night tomorrow?”

“I would be crazy if I said it wasn’t.” Marinette waves goodbye to the small screen. The screen goes black signaling the end of the call.

“So, what are we going to do about Alya?” Adrien asks and before Marinette could reply, both of their phones go off. “It’s Nino. Asking if I want to hang out with him and Alya.”

Marinette sighs and sends a quick reply. “Alya texted me about wanting to hang out with her rather than Nino.”

A beat past. “She’s setting us up again.” Groans follow through.

With Alya, she is determined, to get Adrienette together by the end of the school year. This was their final year and Marinette never once managed to work up the confidence to ask the blonde model out.

Today, she was staging an “Operation Adrienette” at the Place des Vosges. Everyone that is a part of the akuma class was there. Alya, standing front and center with Lila, points to the easel with a large poster board.

“Here’s the plan. We all know that graduation is coming up soon, and I tend to make it my legacy to ensure Adrienette becomes canon. They have ditched us for the last time and I planned to end that this week.” Alya states pretending to be heartbroken.

Lila couldn’t help but notice how Chloe and Juleka were missing from the meeting. She doesn’t want Adrienette to happen but when she tried to get Marinette expelled in college, during a photoshoot Adrien had to threaten for her to back off and stop messing with his sister. Their other brothers wouldn’t like that. Since that encounter, she made a deal with the duo and learned very quickly how there was no romantic attraction between them, just mischief. The reason for Lila being her is because Alya and the rest of them are still her puppets and she has to play the supportive friend.

“I’m still salty about the last plan. They were supposed to have a romantic time at the ice rink, and nothing came of it. This time I’m planning a romantic dinner where Nino and I would ditch the two for another booth. That way they are forced to interact with each other.”

“What are we going to do if that backfires?” Rose raised her hand inputting her concerns.

“We don’t expect it to.” Alya confidently states.

It was Friday night when the plan went into fruition. Adrien had agreed to meet up with Nino and Alya for whatever they have planned. He ended up dressing up at the request Alya of blowing up his phone under Nino’s contact name.

Alya was hanging off Nino’s arms smiling at the model. It was creeping him out.

“So why am I here?” He finally asks even though he knew the answer already.

“We’re waiting for Marinette; she’d promised that she’ll be here in a moment.” Alya deflects the question, she looks elsewhere, no doubt to find Marinette. “There she is.”

Marinette walks over to the group. Adrien gasps causing Alya and Nino to smugly smile at each other. Marinette was wearing a red and black T-shirt dress with the icon of Robin in the center.

“Hey gurl, glad you can join us.” Alya pulls away from Nino, giving the poor teen his arm back and formerly greets Adrien.

“Not like a had a choice, Alya.” Marinette murmurs under her breath.

“Of course, you did, look you’re already here and let’s go get to our seats.” Alya pushes Marinette towards the door and gestures for Adrien and Nino to follow.

Before they were event seated, Marinette notices the two-seat table. Like that didn’t raise any red flags about this evening. Adrien and Marinette took to the table first while Alya made up an excuse for her and Nino. They took the seats on the opposite side of the restaurant to spy on the couple.

Marinette stares down at Adrien both looking very comfortable with one another. The waiter came to their table asking if they need anything to which Marinette orders water and Adrien saying that he’s just a stand-in. The waiter didn’t question it.

Alya and Nino had ordered their meals and she was getting fed up with the lack of communication between the two. She would have stalked over there if it hadn’t been for Nino holding her back.

Just then, a tall, sleek dark hair, gentlemen walk over to the table. Adrien immediately gives up his seat to the gentlemen, but Marinette got out from her seat to hug the man. Alya was in shock. Marinette even gave the male a kiss on the lips before wishing Adrien out.

Adrien had the nerve to turn to Alya and smirk before walking back to the entrance and out of the restaurant. Marinette and the male happy hold hands across the table and chatted. When the waiter had returned with Marinette’s glass of water, he doesn’t seem surprised to see the new face. Instead, he takes their order and doesn’t return until the order is ready.

Alya watch as the couple happily eat. Anger could not describe what she was feeling. Who was this gut and how dare he hijacks a date she had been planning for weeks? When Nino finally gave his okay, it was after Marinette and her mystery date disappeared out of the restaurant. Alya wanted to scream and shout. Scream to the heavens to let out all the anguish she was suffering from Adrienette and shout at Marinette for daring to bring another dude in while she has a crush on Adrien.

She must break them up. If that is the last thing she does.

Alya didn’t see Marinette nor Adrien for the rest of the weekend. She tried to go to the bakery, but the girl’s parents informed her that Marinette was not home. Everything was a mess.

When she returned to the classroom that following Monday, the class was all wondering how the date went. Did they finally get together? Alya was near a breakdown.

“You, how could you. Do you have any idea what I had to go through?” Alya shouts at the teen at fault for all her problems.

“Look Alya, I didn’t ask to be set up with Adrien. At first, it was hilarious but now it’s affecting both our love life.” Marinette counters taking her seat in the back. Adrien enters the classroom not long after she sat down.

“Excuse you, but you are destined to be with Adrien.” Alya screeches but her cries go unheard by the two siblings.

The teacher walks in and demands the class to sit down. Alya turns to Marinette and mouths, “This is not over” to which Marinette raises an eyebrow.

Another meeting in the Place des Vosges.

“I have called you all here to take incriminated photos of Marinette. I need to gather as much evidence to break up Mari and this supposed boyfriend of hers. Any suggestions?” Alya asks standing in front of the remains of the class that supports her.

“Oh, I’ve been seeing Marinette a lot lately with these two boys. They’re clearly more than a thing.” Lila lies through her teeth. She already knows that wasn’t the truth but Alya didn’t know that.

“Someone that wasn’t her boyfriend?” Alya raises an eyebrow. Lila nods. “Good, that is excellent news.”

It wasn’t excellent news.

The first attempt was a fail. Marinette was hanging out with Nathaniel and they all knew he was in a relationship with Marc. Apparently, the artist was commissioning a scarf as an anniversary gift.

The second attempt was also a fail. Marinette was with this boyfriend of hers getting ice cream together. They were having a romantic evening.

The third attempt was nearly a success until Juleka rained on their parade saying that Luka was in a happy relationship with some dude and Marinette and he was just friends.

It wasn’t until they were on the fourth attempt that they struck gold. Marinette was spending time with two unknown boys. The designer was out and about in the park throwing frisbees. One of the guys picked her up and spun her around before placing a kiss on her cheek. The class cheered at the thought of finally getting Marinette and Adrien together.

Alya was waiting for the opportunity. She didn’t have to wait long. Marinette and the dude were sitting underneath the tree at Place des Vosges.

“Your girlfriend here is a cheating bitch.” Alya states confidently.

Marinette turns to her boyfriend then back to Alya.

“What makes you think that of my beloved.” The guy asks raising an eyebrow. Marinette was still in his lap.

“I got evidence.”

“Pray tell.”

Alya pulls out a stack of photos. She gave them to the boy who examines the photos. He hid his smirk in Marinette’s neck who was hiding her laughter.

“So that’s why they were here. I really need to place boundaries on those idiots.” He says thoughtfully.

“Don’t you dare.” Marinette counters playfully hitting the male’s chest.

“It seems that you have caught my beloved with my imbecile’s brothers. Those photos that you have of them are without consent. I could press charges against you on their behalf.”

Alya was losing every ounce of confidence she had.

Adding oil to the fuel, Adrien walks over to them hand-in-hand with Luka. He greets them and kisses Luka’s lips. Alya wanted to scream. How could all this go so wrong?

“If you need any indication as to how long I’ve been with Marinette, we have been together since she turned thirteen.” He states kissing Marinette’s cheek in the process.

“But…but,” Alya stutters her brain could not comprehend the situation.

“Alya, dating Adrien would be like dating my brother. We’ve been friends since we were in diapers.” Marinette then adds more fuel to the fire, “You and the class would have noticed had you not been set on this Adrienette ship.”

“Yeah, a simple search online and you would see photos of Mari and me at galas, movie premieres, fashion shows. She and Damian have been in news coverage from the first time they announce their relationship to the recent engagement announcement.” Marinette blush at the thought of the giant ring on her ring finger.

“Alya, in a different universe I would proudly be Adrien’s girlfriend but it’s not this universe.”

“Let’s go, future Mrs. Wayne.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Wayne.”

Marinette and Damian walk out of the park and head to the bakery.

“Better luck next time Alya,” Adrien smiles before he and Luka follows the two.

Alya was lost for words, she would never get her ship canon. She fell on the green pastures and contemplate life decisions.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #daminette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #maridami #ml crossover #dc crossover

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miraculous786 · 4 years

Note

A prompt with Alya Redemption. After one lie too many Alya or her family gets hurt by Lila’s actions. No bashing anyone, but Lila salt is encouraged (incident in not Akuma related(

Masterlist

You Were To Babysit, Not Abandon

"Thanks again for this, Lila."

"Oh, it's no problem!" the Italian enthused, bright smile on her face. "It's just a shame that Marinette couldn't babysit your little angels."

"Whoa, dude! Might not wanna be calling them that!" Nino chuckled.

Alya shrugged. "Yeah, well, my girl had a commission she needed to work on for a big client. I don't blame her for not wanting any distractions."

"But...don't you think that, well- I don't know...she should make time for you? Shouldn't Marinette want you two to be happy on one of your dates?"

The reporter rose a brow, before gaining a more stern expression. "Hey, don't say that about my best friend. She already does so much for our whole class for free. She deserves a break from our needs every once in a while."

There was a flash of surprise and something akin to a snarl from the brunette, yet it went as soon as it had appeared. "Oh, of course! Silly me! It's just that one of my cousins from Italy, the one that was the daughter of a famous pianist, always offered to look after her family-friends when their parents weren't home. I guess I just expected all good friends to do the same."

She shrugged, apparent guilt on her features, making Alya laugh slightly and rush to assure, "It's fine, Lila. Trust me. Anyway, we better get going now. We don't wanna be late for our reservation. Be sure to keep Ella and Etta safe! They can get into so much mischief sometimes."

"They won't be any trouble," the teen brushed off. "Have fun, bestie!"

Nino rose a brow at the nickname, but nonetheless waved with his girlfriend as they walked out. The door slammed shut behind them, causing a slow grin to stretch across Lila's cheeks.

"Well, isn't this perfect!" she exclaimed with a clap of the hands, turning to the curious kids nearby. "How about we go visit the park to pass some time?"

~*~*~

"Lila! Lila!"

Said person fought off the urge to snap at the twins in her care, and instead replied in a sugar-sweet tone, "Yes?"

"Can we go on the carousel?"

"Pretty please?"

She glanced to the side, catching sight of the functioning ride. On it were a few children - a notable one being Manon - who were screaming excitedly at their parents nearby.

"Of course you can!" the girl allowed, whilst pressing a finger to Ella's nose in a playful manner. "Go on for as long as you want! I'll be right here."

They cheered with their arms in the air together, then proceeded to run off, giggles trailing behind them.

"Finally..." she scoffed beneath her breath. "How does that Mari-Brat deal with them when they never shut up? 'Angels'? More like devils if you ask me. No wonder they were akumatized into them."

Lila stood up from the bench she was sat at. Her head twisted to the scene at the other end of the park, and her legs soon brought her over to it at a fast pace.

There, set up in a way so as to not disturb anyone in the vicinity, was a photoshoot. Cameras of all sorts were pointing in the direction of a fountain, where a blond boy with emerald eyes was posing.

She smirked. Her gaze scanned over both him and the photographer close by. Thoughts of how she herself could be added in to the taken pictures flooded her mind, until she heard an accented voice speak.

"And that's a wrap for now! We'll have a half hour break and carry on after."

Adrien sighed in relief. He faced the woman to his far left and questioned, "Nathalie, is it okay if I have lunch now? I'll stay in the park."

"Yes you may, Adrien," his father's assistant droned. He didn't catch the way she snuck a peek to Lila, nor how a glint of something sinister shone on her glasses. "I have some business to attend to."

"Thank you, Nathalie!" he enthused, before suddenly gaining a pained look when gazing to where the Italian nearby was. "H-Hey Lila, how's it going?"

"Oh, I'm doing great, Adrien. Thank you so much for asking," Lila answered, coming forward to grab hold of his arm to further show her gratitude. However, she was halted by Nathalie opening her mouth to talk.

"Miss Rossi, if you would come with me, please. We have very important matters to discuss on the terms of your modelling contract."

"Of course!" she agreed - her smile only getting wider when she gazed upon the limousine that the female was gesturing to. She strolled over with her head held high, then entered with one last victorious smirk.

The only person to see it was Adrien, who narrowed his eyes.

~*~*~

"Excuse me?"

Adrien jumped. He turned to the source of the two voices that had called in unison, only to see a pair of familiar siblings.

"Ella? Etta? What are you guys doing out here by yourselves?"

Ella sniffled, rubbing her nose. "Alya's friend isn't here and she said she would be. We don't really know this park good. Can you help us please?"

"Please?"

The model rose an eyebrow. "But Marinette doesn't even live around here," he pondered aloud. "And she's responsible enough to not leave kids on their own. Are you sure she's not around?"

"No, Marinette isn't babysitting us. Lila is."

He grit his teeth. His fists clenched. "She's on her way to my father's mansion right now. It'll take at least fifteen minutes to walk back to Alya's," he revealed, tone laced with underlying anger. "I can't let you go by yourself, you're too young."

Etta's lip wobbled. "B-But how are we going to get home?"

After a moment, he pulled out the phone from his pocket. "Don't you girls worry yourselves. I have the perfect person to call."

~*~*~

"Hey, Alya? Are, are you okay?"

The reporter hummed with a serene smile, though Marinette couldn't help but furrow her brows at it. It was suspicious in her eyes, to say the least. The corners of her friend's mouth were slightly up, in a way that suggested that she was both happy and angered at the same time.

"If you say so, I guess..."

Alya turned her head to the baker. "Sorry, girl. It's just that, well...something happened yesterday that's had me worried for a while."

"Oh, gosh! Was it something bad?" Marinette quizzed, concern overtaking her. "Did someone get hurt?"

She chuckled dryly. "I guess you could say that they almost did."

Before the bluenette could say another word, the door to the classroom opened up, revealing a figure adorning an orange jacket. Their demeanour radiated pride and confidence, as they strut to the desks that the two best friends were at.

"Hey, bestie!" the newcomer greeted, ignoring Marinette who was sat with a subtly disgusted expression. "It's great to see you! I wanted to just tell you that I have a new exclusive for your blog if you want to record it after school today. It's about my job as a model for Gabriel Agreste, which I'm sure your fans will love."

"That's great to hear, Lila," Alya praised. "It's a shame that I have to go straight home after school. I am grounded, after all. I guess that means that I can't interview you or anything."

A flash of resentment shone in her green eyes. With a blinding smile, she spoke, "Oh, I'm sure your parents can un-ground you if you just tell them the situation. What you done couldn't have been that bad."

No one noticed how Adrien smirked from his seat.

Since everyone was focused on how Alya's smile disappeared in an instant, and was instead replaced by a look that screamed danger.

However, it seemed that Lila didn't catch on. At least not until the teen spoke up again.

"What I did was very bad, I assure you," she drawled, standing up from her table. "I trusted you, out of all people, to look after my sisters."

The Italian reared back. False tears pricked at her eyes. "W-What? What are you talking about? I thought Marinette was the one who did that, doesn't she?"

"Hey! I'll have you know that Uncle Jagged commissioned-"

Alya slammed her hands on the desk in front, making most in the room flinch. "Lila, I specifically told you to stay at home with Ella and Etta until me and Nino came back - not bring them to a park to play."

"I don't know what you're talkin-"

"You were supposed to babysit them! Not abandon them in a place where they could have been in danger or kidnapped if Adrien wasn't there to tell me where they were!"

"A-Adrien did? But-?"

Lila faced the blond, only to see him grinning in amusement.

"He, he must have made a mistake! I didn't leave them on the carousel at all! I just-"

"First of all, I didn't even mention a carousel," Alya started, finger held up for her to pause. "And second, I'm done with this conversation. I'm afraid that we can't really be friends if you lie so easily to me to get out of the consequences of endangering children."

Marinette gazed with a look that could best be described as awe at Alya. She watched with a sense of delight as Lila flickered her eyes back and forth, before deciding to humph with a flick of the hair and make her way up the stairs beside them.

"...So that was why you were in such a mood earlier."

~*~*~

@northernbluetongue @moonystars14 @soupfilledboots @vixen-uchiha @starsshineandgivehope @professionalfangirl1738

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #alya sugar #adrien agreste #no adrien salt #adrien sugar #Nino lahiffe #lila rossi #lila salt #Lila sucks #ml salt #ml sugar #ella cesaire #etta cesaire

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the-a-word-2214 · 3 years

Text

Broken Hearts II

summary: you finally get to meet the little girl that Joby couldn’t stop talking about

pairing: Joby Taylor x reader

word count: 1,750

warnings: language, fluff, mention of intoxication

A few nights ago, Joby came to your house drunk out of his mind. He started sobbing, telling you how much he missed his daughter and how he wanted to do better for her.

Now you were sleeping at his house when he burst into the room. It was highly unusual for him to be up much earlier than you were. He had to have been pretty antsy to have woken up so early and be showered already.

“Babe, babe you would not believe who called me.”

“What? Who called you?” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you sat up, running a hand through your bed head.

“Jane, she called me. She must’ve used Claire’s phone or something because she called and said that she wanted to meet.”

It takes you a second to register his words.

“Oh wow, that’s incredible. Do you want me to come with? Make sure everything’s okay?”

He laughs softly, a lovestruck look on his face as he cradles your face.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

You smile as you pull out a pair of clean clothes before you go into the bathroom and start the shower.

——————————————————

The drive to Claire’s house was nerve wracking for the both of you. You were terrified of any accusations that could come from Claire or any stupid boundaries that the lawyer might set.

Joby taps the steering wheel a few times before glancing over his appearance in the mirror.

“Ready?”

He breathes out a shaky sigh before nodding and getting out.

You’re greeted by Claire’s lawyer who immediately asks you to take off your shoes at the door.

“Who is this, Mr. Taylor?”

“Oh uh this is my girlfriend (Y/N).”

You smile kindly at the man to show that you were harmless. He wasn’t expecting you so you hoped that you didn’t impose on any rule or boundary set for Joby’s visit.

“Come have a seat Mr. Taylor, there are some things that I want to go over with you before you see Jane.”

He gives you a look as to say “what’s this guy’s problem.” Joby sits down in front of the man after he kicks off his boots.

“Rule number one: you are not to discuss anything that went on between you and Claire. Rule number two: you are not to say anything negative about my client. Rule number three: do not put Jane in harm’s way.”

Joby scoffs, folding his arms.

“C’mon now, how dumb does she think I am?”

“It’s just a precaution, Joby. No need to get upset.”

You patiently wait, overhearing their conversation. A little girl with dark hair and a blue coat walks towards you. Joby’s star struck as he looks down at her.

“Hi Jane, I’m Joby.” He’s quiet and cautious as he speaks at her eye level.

“How are you?” He asks.

“I’m good.”

“Well good. Do you want to, uh, go do something for a little while?”

“Sure.”

“Ok, cool. Yeah.” He smiles slightly.

“You’d better get going.” The gruff lawyer speaks as he holds Jane’s shoulders. It’s as if he’s guarding her from something.

“I’m gonna get my shoes on.” He pulls on his boots as you put on your shoes and he leads her outside, her hat now on.

——————————————————

In the car, he hands her a neatly wrapped present which you took care of that morning. She opens the paper to reveal a new doll.

“Hey look, it’s Abigail.”

“Thanks.” She holds the doll close as you drive off.

You can tell that the little girl is discouraged as she looks down at the doll.

Joby begins to doubt himself as he looks to you and then to his daughter.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? You can tell me if you don’t like it.”

“I already have it.” She mumbles.

“Okay, well at least you like dolls. You already have it.” He whispers the last part as you give him a kind smile, resting your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Joby. I can get her a different one.”

“Alright, let’s go pick out a new one and return it.”

He’s definitely an outsider in the toy store. His dark outfit contrasts the brightness of the toys and stuffed animals around you. He gently takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together.

It’s obvious that he’s nervous.

He walks carefully behind the little girl as she looks around the store, her big blue eyes scanning every toy in sight.

She finally stops on a different doll.

“I want this one.”

Joby fakes bewilderment as he picks it up.

“Okay, great. Yeah. Let’s uh- let’s exchange it.”

—————————————————

You watch the two in awe as they walk around the mall, trailing a few feet away. It may be new to him, but you can already tell that he’s a natural at it. You can’t help but smile to yourself, wishing that you two could one day have kids of your own.

Once you stop in a restaurant, Joby tries talking to Jane about her interests. She’s admittedly a hard nut to crack as she just shrugs at most of the questions. It’s funny to watch this little girl keep your boyfriend on his toes.

The conversation changes once she finally asks a question. Joby toys with the heat protectant on his coffee cup.

“Why didn’t you come see me before?”

Joby is taken aback suddenly, running his hand through his hair.

“Well, uh, I was touring a lot. Traveling. I moved and I was in LA for a little bit. I wanted to come see you but things weren’t so good between your mom and I. We thought it was the best for all of us...” he trails off as he looks to the floor.

He motions for her to lean in closer as he speaks. “You see I was in this band and we had this deal with a record company. And I couldn’t give that up. You know? I was just young and stupid. I wanted to make it so bad.” He shakes his head.

“Have you made it?” Her tiny voice is almost inaudible as she speaks above the loud patrons in the restaurant.

“Yeah, I think I’m real close. Yeah for sure.” He fibs as he messes with the melted strawberry ice cream in front of her.

“So uh, why don’t you like ice cream?” His tone is playful now as he moves past the earlier topic.

“Just don’t.” She shrugs again.

“So, what do you like?”

“Cupcakes.”

He laughs softly. “Cupcakes, I should have got you a cupcake.”

——————————————————

After the mall, you head to a nearby bowling alley. Joby’s elated when he learns that his daughter and him have something in common.

He finally takes off his prized jacket as you find an empty lane. You play scorekeeper as you watch the two of them play.

Joby’s lean figure catches your eye as he makes a strike.

“Did you write zero?”

“Yeah I did, great job baby.” You wink at him as he gives you a smile. He was finally starting to feel like himself again.

He squats down next to Jane as he watches her ball go into the gutter.

“Oh no!” Her little voice cries.

“Tough break, kiddo.” He ruffles her hair as they finish their game.

You only drive back after a phone call from Claire. Jane had a piano appointment that afternoon so he couldn’t spend all day with her.

“I had fun today with you.”

“Me too.” She smiles up at him.

“Okay, well thank you for giving me the chance.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Can I walk you to the door?” He helps her out as he takes her free hand that wasn’t carrying the doll with her bag.

You watch as she walks inside, Joby lingers by the door before walking back to the car. Tears fill his eyes as you get into the passenger seat where Jane once sat.

He was terrified that that was the only chance that he’d ever get. He drives down the road before pulling over, an empty feeling aches his bones as he cries.

He suddenly jerks the car around and drives back. You watch as he goes up to her window and steps inside it. Your heart rate increases as you watch him, thinking that he’s half sane, half crazy to want to do something that drastic.

He climbs in and sits in the floor with the little girl.

“I wanted to talk to you about us. We didn’t really get to talk about our relationship or anything. So, I was wondering, how do you feel about me?”

“Well, I can’t call you ‘dad’.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He hangs his head.

“I just wanna know how you feel about me.” The tears resurface again.

“You seem like a nice person.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean we could- we could like, I don’t know if you want this. I could be around more, me and (Y/N) could. We could be like a family. I mean...should I be here?”

“I don’t know. Mom’s getting married.” She wants me to call him ‘dad’.”

Joby’s breathing is erratic as he looks around.

“It’s okay. I mean, he’s cool to you and everything, right?”

“He’s nice.”

He looks around again before settling on her face.

“I want what’s best for you, you understand that right?”

She nods as he leans forward to hug her.

“Thank you.” Is all he whispers as she returns it with a “you’re welcome.”

—————————————————

He drives back to his lawyer’s office with a heavy heart, sunglasses on.

“Alright let’s go. I’m ready to sign.”

He signs the document before leaving, his head hangs as he silently drives you both back to his house. His gaze is heavy as you walk inside, you can tell that he’s hurting.

“It’s going to be okay, I just know it.” You take his hands in both of yours.

“Thanks for coming with me. It was nice getting to see her.”

“Yeah, she’s a sweet girl.”

He messes with a ring on your finger, looking down at it.

“Do you think we could start over? I want a family of my own. I want to prove that I’m more than just a fuck up.” He sighs as he studies your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I want a family too. I know that you’d be a great dad, you proved that today.”

“Oh yeah? I guess time will tell.”

#paul dano x reader #paul dano #for ellen 2012 #for ellen #joby taylor x reader #joby taylor

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blahkugo · 4 years

Text

Biggest Fan

DABI x HAWKS x READER

Music! AU inspired by THIS photo set...or, the one in which Dabi, Hawks, & Endeavor are a famous rap group, and the reader gets VIP treatment.

NSFW begins after the ~~~ for those of you who don’t care for plot!

Warnings: 18+!, SMUT, cursing, threesome, rough sex (? not sure what your definitions of the word are but they do be slapping you around…), just pure filth basically

You’ve been squealing into the phone for the past ten minutes. Honestly, you can’t believe the words coming from your best friend’s mouth, even after asking her to repeat them a fourth time.

“Babe, even if you weren’t my agent, I would have found a way to get you in,” Rumi scoffs into the speaker, unphased by your relentless questioning. Though she’s always been a bit impatient when it comes to your antics, she knows how big of a deal this is to you. “How could I not? You talk my ear off about them.”

“I owe you for the next thirty years!” Your screech turns the heads of a few other customers, and you can feel the irritation radiating off the glare of one particularly peeved woman seated near you. But who cares? You’re too excited for a few middle-aged drags to dampen your mood.

“Remember what you just said the next time I try to skip out on an interview,” her laugh echoes loudly; she must be at the studio.

“Yes! Whatever you want, Twinkle Toes. It’s yours!” She begins to grumble at the use of the old nickname,

“How many times have I told you not to-” You catch the scowling woman turning towards you.

“Got-to-go-text-me-the-details, love you!” The parting phrase comes out a hurried ramble. Unbothered as you are by a few stares, direct confrontation definitely isn’t worth the trouble. You’re out of the bistro and in your car before anyone can open their mouth.

The cup of iced coffee you press to your flushed face does nothing to curb the elation threatening to bubble over from inside you. Rumi really has outdone herself this time. Being that she’s both a long-time best friend and client of yours, you know just how hard she’s been working to book a job of this caliber. Images of the two of you icing sore feet after hours of grueling practices spring to mind, making your bad ankle throb. If you could tell your younger selves who they are now— an internationally acclaimed dancer and a talent manager with a novel’s worth of influential clients— they wouldn’t believe it. And the work was paying off in more ways than one. Soon, Rumi will be making her music video debut...and you’ll actually be in the presence of your favorite artists, Suns of Icarus.

The rap trio’s been all you can talk about forever. No, like really, forever. Even back at arts school, Rumi had to talk you out of choreographing dances to their music practically once a week. You can still hear her promising you that your 70 year-old ballet instructor did not, in fact, want to see you pirouette to a song that's chorus consists of Hawks saying the word “pussy” over and over again. Usually the memory would drown you in embarrassment (especially considering the story is Rumi’s favorite icebreaker), but now even that can’t hamper your mood. You sigh cheerily, pulling into your reserved parking space. Tomorrow, you’ll be surrounded by your idols.

“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask for the third time in an hour, tugging at the hem of your silk tank. Though you’re wearing your favorite suit, you can’t help but feel out of place in the large dressing trailer. After all, it’s not every day that you accompany your clients on their gigs. Your job is getting them the gigs, and usually you prefer it that way.

“(Y/N), quit stressing! If you looked any hotter the guys would have a heart attack,” your best friend bellows loudly. “Doesn’t she look smokin’?” She questions the hairdresser who, apart from a nod and reassuring smile, you can’t quite understand over the sound of the blow dryer. “Who’s the bad bitch that got me this job in the first place? Oh right, that was you,” she pumps a manicured finger towards you to echo the claim, “so woman up!”

She doesn’t put her finger down until she sees your face soften. It’s not like she’s wrong. “Professional smooth-talker” is basically your job description. In Hollywood people are afraid of you, the woman who can make or break a career. Who are you to let a couple of talents get you riled up? You allow your body to relax in your seat. Even if those talents are the group of boys that you’ve been crushing on since you were 16. Recalling that fact has you scrambling out of the trailer, face beet-red yet again.

“I’m going to grab something from the coffee cart. Be right back!” The door shuts behind you with a loud thud. Rumi should be spending this time going over the routine, not talking you down from the ledge you’re attempting to throw yourself off of over a few stupid guys. Besides, you’ll probably receive a polite greeting at best. The world’s favorite musicians have more important things to do than indulge your fantasies.

Having iced coffee and a bagel in your hands is all you need to feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate and your smile return; truly a working woman’s comfort meal. The spring in your step is restored as you walk back to the trailer, too entranced by the savory goodness to properly hear the voice that hollers from your right. You do, however, hear the scolding that follows the catcall,

“How many times have I told you not to hit on people that work for us, birdbrain.” Your entire body swings towards the familiar nickname and a piece of bagel nearly falls from your mouth. Not even a few feet away, Dabi holds your favorite vocalist in a one-handed headlock, attempting to ruffle the blonde’s hair while keeping a cigarette balanced between his own fingertips.

“Not the hair, man! The stylist’s already had to touch it up twice today!” Hawks’ shrieks are muffled beneath the bicep of his counterpart.

“Go apologize,” The lanky man shoves Hawks towards the spot your feet are now cemented to. Though he’s reprimanding him, you swear you detect a hint of amusement in his tattooed face. “I’m sorry about him, sweetheart,” he calls, lips contorting into a smirk that should be illegal. You feel your thighs press together on their own; the situation isn’t made any better by the pretty boy walking towards you, hands threading through his golden locks in an effort to fix the havoc Dabi wrought.

“My bad,” he flashes you an award-winning set of teeth you’ve previously only had the pleasure of viewing through your laptop screen; somehow they’re even pearlier in person. The glimmer of a tiny gem catches your eye and you notice one is sealed to his canine, only dazzling you further. “I meant what I said though, you’re gorgeous,” his hand moves from his own hair to twist a piece of yours between his fingertips. The lack of boundaries leaves you feeling stupefied, but he doesn’t let up, going as far as wrapping the lock around his polished index finger. God, even his hands are pretty...What if they were trailing the inside of your thigh and— Your mind shouts at you to behave, a fruitless undertaking when the object of your adolescent desires is touching you ever-so softly.

“Um- I- Thank you?” The stuttered phrase comes out confused. Where the hell is the professional smooth-talker side of you when you need her? “I’m Rumi’s agent and uh- I-I’m a big fan!” Heat blazes through your face and chest; you’d slap yourself for the outburst if they weren’t here.

“Oh, really? She told us all about you!” He waves a hand towards Dabi. “Oi! Matches! She’s not an assistant, she’s Rumi’s manager!” The gloomier man extinguishes his cigarette before making his way towards the two of you, smug expression wavering only when he glances at Hawks. A short wheeze leaves the blonde when his chest is smacked lightly by his partner.

“I told you not to call me that.” Dabi turns his attention towards you. “(Y/N), right?” He sticks a hand out to shake and you quite literally drop the remains of the bagel to reciprocate the motion, a move that makes you redden and him snicker. “Rumi told us you’re our biggest fan,” his sly grin tells you your loud-mouthed best friend had probably spilled too much information their way. Oh, she’s definitely going to get an earful later.

He doesn’t drop eye contact the entire time he’s speaking to you, and you find yourself enchanted by the deep sea-blue of his irises. You would literally swim in those pools if given the chance. Only when Hawks clears his throat do you realize you’re still shaking his friend’s inked hand. After dropping it rapidly, you urge yourself into composure out of pure distress.

“Sorry, I’m honestly a bit starstruck. I’m sure Rumi told you how much I love your music,” you finally sound a bit like your usual self.

“She didn’t really mention our music, did she Matches?” Hawks chirps, dodging Dabi’s fist this time.

“No, I don’t think she did, dipshit,” he spits the insult through gritted teeth as a final warning. “But I do remember her telling us something about being your first two crushes...or was it your ‘sexual awakening’? I can’t really remember the term she used…” Your knees almost buckle at the obvious teasing, and you silently swear to murder Rumi when she’s done shooting this video. It’s evident that the mockery is highly amusing to them— the glints in their eyes border on ravenous.

Because you’re not typically someone whose presence is taken lightly, the thought of being toyed with by a few arrogant men has your blood boiling. You’ve already dealt with too many pretentious assholes who don’t believe women, especially younger ones, belong in management; you didn’t claw your way to the top of the industry for all of that hardship to go to waste. Ever the more perceptive of the duo, Dabi seems to realize the shift in your mood.

“Relax,” he reaches a hand towards you before thinking better of it, choosing instead to tug at the thin, silver piercing adorning his bottom lip. “We’re only teasing. She didn’t say anything like that, obviously.” You stare at him incredulously, arms crossing your chest. “Why don’t we give you a tour?” Though he’s the one who makes the offer, it sounds as though he’d rather be doing anything else.

“We’re not really assholes, promise,” Hawks jumps in, crossing his fingers over his heart in a show of good faith. “This one just gets too big headed around beautiful women,” he points at the heavily-inked man, who simply rolls his eyes at the accusation. You’d thought the blonde was…well, nothing more than the stereotype his hair color implied, but he’s sharper than he seems. It appears that unlike Dabi, who comes off curt and ungenuine, Hawks’ wit stems from his charm.

You can’t help but think of how the two of them compliment each other beautifully. That’s probably why their entire fanbase thinks they should be dating. With that ludicrous thought, your exuberance returns. After Hawks assures you they don’t have to be on set any time soon, you find yourself taking them up on their offer. They seem to be a handful, sure, but how long have you dreamt of spending uninterrupted time with your favorite members of the group? Besides, it’s only a tour. What could go wrong?

It’s apparent only five minutes into your time together that Hawks (despite his insistence you call him Kiego, it’s difficult after years of referring to him by the stage name) does not know the meaning of personal space. He spends the better part of the tour hooking an arm through yours, touching your hair, or pestering Dabi. While some may take this over-familiarity as a sign of disrespect, it feels more to you as though he’s simply comfortable in his skin.

Rude or not, his bold actions do nothing but spur your heart to beat out of your chest. Every time he guides you towards an attraction with a cheerful comment, you swear his fingers purposefully dash under your layers of clothing, brushing faintly at the skin of your waist in a way that makes your heart (among other parts) flutter.

“And as I’m sure you know, we’re filming this music video mid-tour,” his hand flits away as swiftly as it skimmed you, prolonging the torture of wondering whether his movements are purposeful or a figment of your twisted imagination. After showing you most of the fabricated scenery— and even the gorgeous, cherry-red convertible that was rented— for the video, you’ve arrived at the group’s infamous tour bus. You once read that most of their concerts end with the vehicle being mobbed by ruthless fans, one of the sole reasons you’ve never attended a show. Someone as busy as you doesn’t have time for all the horrid traffic the mobs cause. “Wanna see inside? It’s actually pretty roomy.”

You nod, eyes trailing towards Dabi, who’s busy stomping out the most recent cig he’d been puffing on. Aside from the occasional chuckle at your flustered blunders or annoyed curse thrown towards Hawks, the taller man had kept mostly to himself. His indifference confuses you, makes you wish you hadn’t reacted so bitterly to the loose smile and banter he offered you upon first meeting. At the same time, part of you is irritated by his standoffish personality. From what you’ve seen so far, his remarks serve the single purpose of humiliating others for his own amusement— a stark contrast to the misjudged softy he’s portrayed as on camera.

You’re guided onto the bus and Dabi follows, cursing under his breath at something or other. Sociable as he is, Hawks begins to chatter again, seeing no issue in being the center of your attention. You realize the space is much roomier than it seems. State of the art technology allows the bunk beds to fold back with a press of the button, leaving room for a decently sized couch. It’s also much cleaner than you would expect three young men living on the road to allow.

“And the lowest one was my bunk, just in case you’d like to see it again later,” he whispers the sentence as though it’s his best kept secret, wagging his thick brows exaggeratedly to key you in on his joke. “Hey, why are you laughing? I’m totally seriou–” The doors swivel open and your giggles are cut off by heavy footsteps and a booming voice,

“Oi! Keigo! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You have to crane your neck to see the pillar of a man’s scrunched, stoic face. Endeavor, the pyrotechnic-obsessed “hype man” and third part of Suns of Icarus’s trio, stands a few feet from you, clearly exasperated by something his bandmate has done. Hawks must know precisely the reason for the bottle-redhead’s tone, because his face pales.

“Enji, we made a new friend!” He pulls you into his chest in an obvious attempt to shield himself from the giant, but your face heats at the close contact regardless.

“You were supposed to be on set for your solo scenes ten minutes ago,” he crosses his sculpted arms, “so let’s go.” The lively man is being whisked away by the larger one before he can utter a word of rebuttal. “Nice to meet you,” he calls casually to you over his shoulder.

“Dabi, keep (Y/N) company! I’ll be back!” Hawks shrieks with a dramatic flare. The man was truly born to be an entertainer.

An unbearable awkwardness envelops the two of you once you’re alone. Without his best friend around, Dabi drops any semblance of amiability, but it’s not as if he was trying very hard before. He plops down on the couch and pulls out his phone. You sit as far away from him as possible, but realize you don’t have your own device to keep you busy. After a few nervous minutes of twiddling your thumbs, you attempt to break the silence.

“So, Haw– Keigo and Endeavor use stage names, why don’t you?” You spout the first question that comes to mind, hoping it’ll spark an interesting conversation.

“Dabi is my stage name,” he answers curtly, without looking up from his cell.

“Oh...but– even your bandmates call you by it?”

“Yep. Don’t care for my real name,” his eye roll sends ice through your veins.

“Excuse me,” you snap, “have I done something to offend you?” The frustration in your tone wins you eye contact, at least.

“Nope.”

“Unbelievable….I’m going to need your publicist’s information.”

“Huh?”

“Well, anyone who can make you seem like the world’s most ‘misunderstood heartthrob’ on camera certainly deserves a pay raise, dontcha’ think?” His eyes drop to send a steely glare your way, but you’re too fed up to feel intimidated. You smirk at him, a single eyebrow raised in twisted satisfaction. There’s the bitchy self you know and love.

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about me,” he sits up, “but I know everything I need to know about you.”

“Oh? Enlighten me then, sir.”

~~~

“You may think Keigo likes you, but he likes everyone. You’re, what, thinking you’re special because he’s throwing some attention your way?” Dabi inches closer. “Hoping he’ll get in your panties?”

“It’s not like that at all–”

“Don’t lie. The idea of being with someone you’ve idolized for years is thrilling, isn’t it?” The heat that rises on your cheeks is enough to confirm his suspicions. “He doesn’t like to see people for who they really are, but I know your type...just another tramp that’ll use him and move onto the next,” his smug expression returns after that little rant. Paired with the tattoos covering most of his face, he appears every bit as wicked as the skeleton his ink emulates— devilish, even.

“You’re wrong.” You can’t think of a proper argument when he’s so close to you, basically breathing down your neck.

“Am I?” His hand trails up your clothed thigh, and an unwelcome shiver crawls up your spine. “So you’re going to stop me when I do this, right?” Then, he kisses you.

It’s not at all soft, or compassionate, or anything resembling your naive teenage fantasies of the artist in the slightest. Rough, slender fingers wrap around your jaw and yank your lips to his. He doesn’t stop at a peck either, choosing instead to assail your mouth with all of his pent-up rage. The cool, hard metal of his lip ring strains against you, a pleasant contrast to the quick heat traveling the rest of your body. You want nothing more than to prove him wrong— to throw him off you, tell him to go straight to hell— but he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and- God, it just feels so good. Your mouth parts in a breathless moan and Dabi takes the reaction as an invitation to swipe his tongue against your teeth. With your bodies melding together violently, the make out feels simply a continuation of the intense argument you were having moments before.

Pulling you between his lap, he shifts you so that your back is flush across his chest. Nimble fingers make quick work of your clothes. You just barely raise your hips so that he’s able to take your pants off with ease, but you’re sure he notices the eager movement. When you’re left in nothing but your panties, you feel the rumbling of his solid body behind you as he laughs, the sound bitter and pleased all at once.

“Oh you really are a whore,” he chides. “Who’d you wear these for, hm?” He runs his fingers across the band of your red lace thong.

“Not you,” you bite back, feigning disinterest towards the dangerous position he has you in. The asshole’s not going to get to actually hear you admit defeat so easily. One of his hands kneads your chest and the other grabs your cheeks harshly, pushing them together so that you’re unable to speak.

“Not me? Take a good look at yourself, sweetheart.” He lifts your head upwards and your breath hitches; the entire ceiling of the bus is covered in a dark, reflective surface. “Who has you naked in their lap right now?” he whispers onto your neck, licking a long stripe upwards until his teeth graze your ear. You watch fervently as he strokes his digits across one of your perked nipples, tweaking the bud roughly. “Who are you being such a slut for?” He’s aware he won’t get a response because his left hand still grips your face, demanding you watch his every move.

Dabi then snakes his fingers down your midriff tortuously slowly, brushing lightly in a way he hasn’t touched you yet; as if the skin there is delicate, worthy of his valuable adoration. The ink traveling his arms makes him appear so ethereal, so sinister and compelling, that you can’t help but let out a muffled mewl. Once he reaches your panties, his fingers dart beneath the material and the tender moment is lost. An onslaught of pleasure wracks your body when he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. He lets go of your cheeks, now sore and reddened from both pressure and bliss.

“I’m going to ask one more fucking time,” his fingers glide against your soaked slit, “who are you being such a dirty slut for?” You contemplate not giving him the answer he’s looking for, and part of you is sinfully curious about what may happen if you enrage him further; however, that idea is put to rest immediately when he snaps his head up to look at you through the mirror, blue eyes pooling with lust and a hint of something animalistic. That stare, paired with the relentless strokes across your clit, provokes your moaned answer,

“F-for you, Dabi.” He uses his free hand to insert two, thick digits inside you.

“Say it again.”

“I’m- fuck– a s-slut for you,” you practically sob out. You press the back of your head into his shoulder harder, squeezing your eyes closed and biting your lip.

“Not going to keep your eyes open? Fine.” The fingers are removed from your clit and you’re about to let out an unsatisfied whine, only for him to grab the back of your head and mash your swollen lips to his once again. Then, after another brief caress of your abdomen, he’s back to touching your sensitive bud. All of your moans are silenced by his mouth, and you feel the vibrations of a low groan from his own throat when your ass grinds against his clothed member. When your stomach pulls taut you know you’re seconds away from feeling that all-encompassing pleasure, the tidings of an orgasm so close to washing over you.

“Oi, Matches! You didn’t throw her out did you?” Hearing Hawks’ voice call out from the front of the bus has you reeling your lips away from Dabi, and though he slows his movements, he doesn’t remove his fingers from your core. Rather than push you away, he takes the other hand off your clit to hold you tightly against him. “(Y/N)? Dab–”

For a few seconds, the only sound you can hear is your own heart beating out of your chest. Takami takes in the scene in front of him— your bare body splayed across his best friend in the lewdest of positions. You know your face is blooming in embarrassment as you wait for a reaction, for his face to drop in disappointment, anger, anything. Instead, he smirks.

“Starting without me? That’s no fair,” the golden-haired boy actually pouts, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes, something almost bloodthirsty. Though this is happening right in front of you, you can’t truly believe it. Dabi relieves the pressure of his arm from your chest.

“Look Kiego, the whore’s fucking drenched for us,” he lifts his fingers towards the beautiful man in front of you proudly, as if showing off a trophy or a new toy. Then he pops the damp fingers in his own mouth, humming at the taste of you. Hawks’ tongue dips out of his mouth, darting across his bottom lip.

“I want a taste,” he leers at your bright panties, now soaked through. You think you must have died and gone to heaven, what with the two Adonises staring at you as if you’re their last meal. Hawks kneels at the foot of the couch, brings his face right up to your navel, and licks a long, cold swipe. His digits toy at your waist like they were earlier, except this time the movements are decisive and fierce. Just as he’s about to tug your panties down and place his mouth where you want it most, Dabi seizes his jaw and pulls his partner into a long, sloppy kiss. You let out a sigh at the view and— teases that they are— the sound doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“Is watching us turning you on?” Dabi taunts cruelly.

“Looks like she’s a bit of a pervert, hm?” Hawks retorts, sliding a finger across your clothed slit. The movement causes your entire body to quiver, your senses on high alert. Without another word, he leans down again, shifts your panties to the side, and takes your clit between his lips. The way he laps at you hungrily makes you believe your initial judgment of him was completely inaccurate, and when he inserts two lengthy digits inside you, the thought is confirmed. Hot, white pleasure consumes your body as your core clenches around his digits. He simply cocks an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly, holding you tightly against him by your waist so that you’re unable to wriggle away. Gone is the lovable persona you were introduced to, replaced now by someone entirely foreign, deviously lewd.

“Fuck, Hawks,” you whimper, greedy for more.

“Thought I told you to call me Keigo,” he scolds beneath you, biting the inside of your thigh so that a sharp gasp leaves you.

“I-I’m sorry, K-Kei–” You’re cut off mid-moan when Dabi kisses you, wrapping one slender hand around your throat and squeezing. His other one threads through your hair and tugs harshly. A painful hiss leaves you but the sound only makes him pull harder, smirking against your lips.

It’s as though they’re competing for your attention. If one of the men evokes a sob or whimper, the other attempts to outdo him— and they have no regard for your body, becoming instead the battleground for their lascivious rivalry. You lose yourself in the intense sensations, unaware of time or its passing, instead focusing solely on the coil tightening in your abdomen. Every gasp, every moan, only pushes them further, and soon your legs are shaking as you feel yourself nearing the delicious edge.

Just as you’re about to let go, allow yourself the mind-numbing relief of an orgasm, Kiego withdraws his fingers. Rubbing your bruised thighs together is a desperate attempt at friction, but the momentum is completely lost. Your core clenches around nothing, and you cry out, hopelessly bitter at the emptiness between your legs.

“Sorry, princess,” his hair is sticking up, golden locks tousled from the harsh grip of your fingers. And yet he still looks perfect. He wipes your juices off his chin with a thumb, “but that’s for starting without me.” Despite the apology, he sounds absolutely delighted at your loss. You whine again, hoping it’ll change his mind. “What do you think, Dabi? Should we let her cum?”

Hearing his name, the tattooed man takes his attention away from your chest and the onslaught of purple marks his lips’ were just peppering on your throat.

“I don’t think so,” he tweaks at one of your nipples, eliciting a soft groan from you. “I want the bitch begging for it.” Dabi pushes you away from him and stands to unbuckle his belt. “Besides, don’t think she’s done enough to earn it.” You should be outraged at the way they decide your fate as if you’re not even present, but in reality it only thrills you, your clit throbbing at the lack of control.

“You’re right,” your idol sneers, canines bared and gleaming as he unzips his own pants, “and I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around me.”

They switch places, shifting you so that your breasts are pinned against the couch between Kiego’s legs. Dabi grinds his hips against your clothed center, and you mewl at the long-awaited friction, hard member straining against his briefs.

“Get to work, princess,” Kiego calls to you, boxers down to his knees. You can only balk at the sight in front of you. His cock is thick and long, essentially everything you could’ve ever hoped for, but that’s not it.

Rather, it’s the shiny, silver ball pierced through the shaft and poking out from the top of his head that stops you dead in your tracks. He notices your eyes widen at it, but only snorts, wrapping your hair around his hand and yanking you roughly towards him.

“Oh, that little thing?” Now he’s shoving you against his length, using your face as nothing more than a means for friction. “Just a drunken dare from Matches.” The nickname provokes the other man into leaving a stinging slap against your behind. And just like that, the angered man drives himself into your cunt.

“I told you,” slap, “not to,” slap, “call me that.” With each thrust into you, Dabi releases an onslaught of pent-up anger onto your rear, the biting pain causing you to cry out around Kiego’s member.

“Yeah sweetheart, just like that,” he leans his head back against the couch with a deep groan. “Such a pretty little whore, choking on my cock.” One of his free fingers shoots out to wipe at your tears, hand moving ever-so-lightly to cradle your jaw. The gesture might have been sweet if his other hand wasn’t forcing you down further to swallow him whole.

“Mmmph–” you scrape carelessly at Kiego’s thighs in an attempt to secure yourself, moans coming out garbled with his cock down your throat.

“Not done with you yet, slut” Dabi still pounds into you relentlessly. You’re overwhelmed with the feeling of being stuffed from both ends, knees on the verge of giving out until he fastens his hands around your thighs, pulling you into him with even harder plunges. “Fucking take it.” Something hard and cold grinds inside you, and you’re acutely aware of the ridged piercings now pressing against that perfect, spongy spot in your heat.

When he reaches an arm around to rub furiously at your clit, you’re sobbing. Kiego’s deep, golden eyes watching you, Dabi’s unrelenting fingers and thrusts, it’s all too much.

And then you’re finally letting go. Legs shaking, mind wracked with white as you clench your eyes shut. Your mouth moves away from Kiego’s shaft, only concerned with riding out your high. The tattooed man behind you doesn’t stop his movements either, still pressed deep inside you until your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you’re tapping furiously at his waist. Kiego smiles, taking himself in his hand and slapping his cock against your cheek while he strokes himself.

“That’s it, baby,” he smooths your hair back, grunting. “You look so pretty when you cum.” He pumps himself a few more times before he finishes, sticky liquid spurting across your lips and into your hair. You reach around to grab at Dabi’s waist again, willing him to stop. He removes himself from inside of you only to flip you around and your cunt clenches at the feeling of emptiness.

Pulling you into a long, winded kiss, he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip to taste Kiego’s release. Then he’s pushing you to your knees once more, hands threading through your hair roughly.

“Suck,” he scowls down at you. Though you’re breathless, still reeling from your orgasm, the simple command spewed at you has your lips wrapped around him in a second.

He isn’t as girthy as Kiego, but just as long. A trail of piercings go down his length, and your tongue brushes against the cool metal while you wrap your fingers around the area you can’t reach. You stare up at him through thick lashes, piercing blue eyes ogling you as you take him further in. His hand is still perched on your head, but he makes no movement to push you down— instead, basking in your slow seduction.

You’re sure you look a mess, dried mascara down your cheeks and still covered in Kiego’s cum, but Dabi only revels in the power he has over you, positively thrilled at the way you no longer fight for dominance. He breaks eye contact only when the blonder man tugs him into a kiss, deep and passionate, and the sight only urges you to swallow him deeper.

“I like her with her mouth so full,” Kiego whispers against Dabi’s lips.

“Just as long as the bitch isn’t speaking,” the other man groans, rutting into your mouth so that you know he’s close.

Soon he’s pulling out of you to pump his shaft, your mouth wide open so that the head of his cock brushes against your tongue. Kiego reaches down to move Dabi’s hand, grabbing at his partner’s length so he can stroke it himself. It doesn’t take long after that for the brooding man to cum, head thrown back in a loud grunt while the tantalizing male next to him coaxes him through the orgasm. Kiego angles him so that his hot, white liquid gushes onto both your face and tongue; you suck at Dabi’s head until he forcibly pushes you off him.

“Fuck,” he sighs, running a hand through his sweaty locks. “Knew you were good for something.” With that final statement, he turns away from you, pulling his pants back on and returning to his spot on the couch as though he wants nothing more to do with you.

Kiego walks away as well, and you’re sure you’re about to be kicked out now that they’ve had their way with you. A part of you is angered, but a larger part is still processing what just happened, savoring the earth-shattering orgasm the pair blessed you with.

You look for your discarded clothing, trying to compose yourself so you’re able to get out of their way as quickly as possible. Kiego walks back into the common area, wet rag in hand. He doesn’t speak until he pushes you into the couch, rubbing the clean towel over your face softly.

“So, you’re coming to our concert next week, right?”

---------------

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princessamericachavez · 3 years

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Fuck it. Today I get to be self-indulgent and tell you about the entire Fjorester Hallmark Christmas Fanfic that is way too long for me to write these days but I have entirely laid down in my head so instead I’m going to write about it as a bulletpoint fic.... sort of... you’ll get the grasp. Just strap along for the ride.

(This is obvious and shamelessly based on Tis The Damn Season by Taylor Swift, you can fight me. I said it was self-indulgent)

Okay, so first of all, the group are all friends and knew each other all through college, right?

Jester studied psychology (she’s an emotional healer, you know?) and especialices in art therapy.

Fjord did a marine biology major with an acting minor, because deep down he’s a theater nerd but doesn’t dare admit it because he needs to want a “real” career, you know? Also, he paid for his studies with a full swimming team scholarship.

I legit don’t know what everyone else studied —this is the kinda stuff I would figure out while actually writing the fic— so you get to fill those blanks!

ANYWAY, basically during college Jester had this art teacher, Artagan, who she became weirdly friendly with (you sometimes become friends with your college teachers, they aren’t even that much older than you and half the time are just as tired)

So this art teacher is delighted by her, right? Keeps telling her how talented an artist she is and how she should definitely come with him to LA after this year is over. He’ll get her into a gallery! She’ll be famous and amazing!

So Jester goes. And her heart aches. And maybe leaving her mama is so damn hard. And maybe, maybe, she doesn’t want to say goodbye to Fjord but she’s been in love with him for so so so long and he never seemed to see her in that way, so she can’t put her life on pause for him. She can’t. Even if the night before she leaves it looks like he’s trying to tell her something, to half confess something that he never quite does say out loud and her heart falls and she leaves.

ANYWAY here is where our story begins.

Jester comes back for christmas after six months away and she is EXCITED to be home!

(maybe a little too much, maybe things aren’t going as great in LA as she expected) (and mayyyybe she’s a little nervous to see a certain someone but it’s ok)

Fjord picks her up at the airport. He knows her mama doesn’t like going out much and he really, really, really insists that it’s no big deal. His car is old and shitty and there was an incident once that made Jester start calling it “The Ball Eater” to Fjord’s endless dismay (and bemusement).

Anyway the ride home is light hearted, they make small talk and laugh about old times and Jester talks so much about how amazing everything in LA is but Fjord can’t shake the feeling that something about her, despite her smile, seems sad.

He also can’t help the desire to hold her hand, or kiss her, or at the very least confess how uselessly in love he’s been with her for years, but she’s only here for like four days because she needs to go back to LA for her big New Years gallery show that Artagan put together and he can’t ask much from her without getting in the way of her dreams, so he doesn’t.

So they get home and Marion is as delightful as ever and Jester finds out that Fjord has been helping her fix some things around the house (oh so you’re a very handy man, Fjord! *wiggles eyebrows*) and he’s been buying her groceries because he knows Jester used to do it because Marion is always so busy performing at the Chateau (and doing other things for her fancier clients, but Fjord would rather not bring that subject up too often) and he just thought it would be important for someone to look after her from time to time.

Jester has to choke back tears because she is so moved that he is so wonderful with her mama even when she’s gone. Her heart flutters and it’s terrifying.

So Fjord leaves and Jester and her mama spend the whole afternoon together, catching up and baking cupcakes and watching christmas movies until Marion has to go to work.

Meanwhile, Fjord is trying to figure out what to do with himself and with Jester —nothing, he decides, he shouldn’t really say anything— and keeps pacing around his apartment to the endless bemusement of his roomate.

Caduceus was MEANT to go home for the holidays, but there was some kind of change of plans with his family at the last minute (or so he says, he hasn’t been very forthcoming about it and Fjord suspects they might have had an argument or something or maybe Cad just decided not to go home, but how is he supposed to know? He never knew the first thing about families) so now Caduceus is here and for the first time in his life Fjord is not spending Christmas alone.

Caduceus suggests honesty is the best course of action, that he should just tell Jester how he feels. Yeah. Right.

Anywayyy

Jester gets together with the rest of her friends “The Nein” they call each other, though they have never been nine, just to mess with people who keep asking and getting weirder and weirder answers. They get some drinks.

While Fjord is away getting drinks, Beau mentions what a shitty year she’s had and Jester’s brow furrows and Beau says it was just a lot of shit, you know? Vandran just up and leaving town, handing in his thesis (though his tutor, Mrs. Melora was delightful and supportive). She doesn’t mention how depressed Fjord was over Jester leaving, though, but she does say that the cherry on top was his fucking ex showing up again.

“Avantika came back?!”

Jester’s chest twists with the painful memory of jealousy and anger and worry over how unhealthy the whole thing was and how sick and sleepless and exhausted and sad Fjord seemed though the entire relationship before he finally gathered the courage to break things up.

Veth knows that, so she brushes it off with a quick “it’s fine, he told her to go fuck herself” and Jester feels maybe a little better —even though she totally has no right because she and Fjord aren’t a thing and he can do whatever he wants ok? she totally doesn’t care, totally.

Still, maybe, on the way back home she asks if he’s okay and she’s so worried and hesitant and Fjord just melts and assures her he’s alright, that he already knew when Avantika came back that she was not what he wanted, that he deserved more... that he wanted more... and he’s so earnest and breathless that Jester thinks he might really be in love with someone else, then... it doesn’t occur to her that all he can think about is kissing her in that moment, parked outside her mama’s house.

The porch’s front light turns on, the moment passes, they say goodbye.

Fjord comes over on the 24th to hang out. Apparently, Caduceus is a little bit more homesick than he is willing to admit and decided to unload all of his Cain Instincts on Fjord. Jester is delighted by the idea of Cad secretly being a prankster, but she lets Fjord hide out with her and her mama as they decorate the house (Marion didn’t have time to before between shifts) and make cookies and watch movies.

And it’s so easy, so sweet and comfortable, that Jester can’t help but feel like this is what life is meant to be, she can’t help but fantasize about what things could have been like...

Fjord finally asks what’s wrong. She tries to dodge the question first, assuring him she’s alright, but Fjord has known Jester long enough to figure out that something is weighing on her and he insists that she can tell him anything.

Jester finally breaks and admits LA isn’t everything she dreamed. It’s pretty great, sure, and she got a job as an art therapist in a nearby clinic and the gallery is going to be great and fun but she feels so lonely, she’s tried to make new friends but everyone is too busy or stuck on their own road to success to really get to know them, she misses the Nein, she misses her mama, she misses her home and Fjord. Besides, Artagan has been so busy with planing the gallery (and all of the other cool artists he has been collecting to showcase there and she didn’t know about before) and he’s just not as focused on being her artistic mentor has before. It’s just a lot.

And Fjord listens and nods and assures her that she’s brilliant and amazing and she will be alright, but she can always come back home if she wants (god, he wishes she would return).

instead, Jester says he should come to LA because they used to talk about this, about both going there and trying their luck as artists. “You are such an amazing actor, Fjord!” She insists but Fjord is too anxious. Dreams don’t pay the bills. He can’t just drop everything just to follow a dream... just to follow her.

It gets quiet after that.

On the way out, Marion overhears that Fjord is planing to spend christmas alone with Cad on their apartment and insists they should come over for diner instead.

Jester is delighted! It’s usually just her and her mama (who usually has to leave early because she works christmas night at the hotel) but now Cad and Fjord can come too! And the others should too! Beau and Yasha are here alone too and Veth can bring Yeza and Luke and Caleb will definitely want to spend it here instead of the library right?

So the Nein end up all invited to Jester’s christmas party.

Which, of course, means they HAVE to do a secret santa.

Jester gets Caleb, so she enlists Veth and Beau to go shopping for his gift to make it extra especial.

While they are out doing chores, Caleb texts Jester and asks if he could talk to her later that afternoon. She wonders out loud why that would be and Veth blurts out: “he’s probably finally gonna tell you he’s in love with you”

And Jester would brush it off with a flirty joke if it wasn’t by the way Beau slaps the back of Veth’s head and tells her “you said you wouldn’t tell on him!”

So Jester is shocked and confused and thrown off balance because she never even considered Caleb like that. Does Caleb like her? Is he in love with her? Is she supposed to know that? To like him back? Oh no, he’s going to tell her this afternoon isn’t he?

And she has to give him a christmas gift for the secret santa!

Caos and overthinking ensue and finally Jester buys Caleb a big thick book he’d been eyeing for a while but that he’d deemed too expensive to get and a very long scarf with lots of tiny cats and there’s nothing romantic about it but she’s still worried about it.

So, either way, Caleb and Jester meet up for a late coffee (Caleb is basically immune to caffeine at this point so it’s fine and Jester only drinks hot coco so it’s alright).

And Jester jumps the gun, she goes on and on and on about how she had no idea and she’s so sorry and she’s not sure about how to feel with this but she doesn’t want to hurt Caleb because he’s such a good friend and she really does care about him a lot but-

Caleb cuts her off with a laugh. He already knew she’s not in love with him, which is why he never brought the subject up. He’s fine, he’s moved on.

Oh?

Actually, he wanted to talk with her because he is seeing someone else (ESSEK) and he wanted to know if it would be alright to bring him over for christmas tomorrow. He thinks he’s ready to introduce them to his friends and a party seems like a good idea.

Jester is delighted again and assures him he totally can come and not to worry about the extra space or work or food because Caduceus and Fjord promised to come help her prepare everything for the party.

She grabs his hands and assures him with a bright smile that she’s incredibly happy for him and hopes this is the good kinda love that makes him feel warm and fuzzy and smile. And Caleb blushes and nods and mumbles that maybe it is.

CUT TO: Fjord is totally accidentally watching this from outside the coffeeshop because he was out buying gifts too (for his secret friend, Beau, a dope set of weights... and for Jester, a tiny unicorn that he just saw and had to get for her because he knew it would make her so happy).

Either way, as you can imagine, what Fjord sees is easily misunderstood.

Cue: heartbreak.

Which gets us to christmas morning filled with excitement and presents and hugs.

Fjord and Caduceus come over to help the Lavorre women cook (Fjord feels a little responsible over turning their little yearly diner into a fully blown party because he mentioned they were spending it alone at home).

And Fjord is sad. He isn’t angry, or rude, or jealous... okay, maybe a little jealous, but mostly he’s just heart-broken and Jester can tell something is off, but Fjord makes an effort to smile and pretend like everything is fine and –wow, whoever he is in love with (that person he said he now new he wanted) might have broken his heart and Jester is so confused and at a lost.

Anyway, it’s Caduceus who finally has enough of the mopping around and pulls Fjord aside to figure out what’s wrong and Fjord just blurts everything out: Jester and the feelings and the almost kiss in his car and the hanging out and the stupid little unicorn he has back at home and now doesn’t dare give her and Jester holding Caleb’s hands and how stupid he feels and how he had no right to feel that way anyway...

Cad lets him ramble and in the end just sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder and says: you should give her the gift. Did you get it so she would love you? Did you get it to get something in return?

No, Fjord says, he just wanted to make her happy.

Well, it will still make her happy, right? Isn’t that what you want?

And Fjord nods despite the hurt and Cad thinks he is so clever because of course he knows that Jester is in love with Fjord and that Caleb has moved on but he figures his roommate needs to figure it out himself this time.

And so, the party comes.

They do the secret santa early, because everyone is too chaotic and excited to wait to figure out what gifts they will get and they all want their friends to see the awesome gifts they got them already.

Fjord nearly bites through his cheek while he sees Jester give Caleb her secret santa gift.

Yasha gives Jester a beautiful dress, dark but artistic, that everyone insists she must try on and model for them at once because the world really hates Fjord and wants to make him blush and squirm as much as possible over the girl of his dreams.

Caduceus gets Fjord an amazing movie collection with all the western classics he loves and it’s probably one of the nicest gifts he’s ever gotten.

The tiny unicorn weights like a fucking ton inside Fjord’s pocket through most of the night. He convinces himself that he can’t give it to Jester, it would be overstepping. If she loves someone else, he needs to respect that.

And then Essek shows up, and Fjord understands many things at once, and he’s so stupid he wants to laugh and hit himself at the same time.

And yeah, just because Jester isn’t in love with someone else it doesn’t mean that she will like him now... of course not... but he feels a little bit less like a terrible friend and person for wanting her to.

He pulls her out to the porch with some dumb excuse and after a lot of awkward small talk he finally brings out the tiny unicorn.

Jester is delighted. What? Why? When? And Fjord just tells her the truth, that he saw it and thought of her and how happy it would make her and he had to...

So Jester kisses his cheek and he blushes furiously and just as the moment is about to die down Veth shouts from inside that someone hid a lot of mistletoe around the house and that she is not kissing any of her friends thank you very much.

So the two of them look up just in time to see GUESS WHAT hanging over their heads. Because of course.

Blushing. Awkwardness. I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t- I mean if you- I mean I do- Do you? Yeah. Wait. Really? I mean, do you want to? Y-yes!

They kiss.

And it’s quick and shy and not really a big romantic kiss, barely a peck between two friends terrified of fucking everything up.

The night goes on and neither of them can stop thinking about it... but other than that, it’s just a fun party.

Fjord doesn’t sleep much, he’s up early and pacing around the house until he decides he needs to try that again. Just once more. One more kiss. And maybe then... and, yes, she will leave, but maybe one more kiss wouldn’t be so terrible before that?

So Fjord runs. He runs over to her home, heart in his throat.

He knocks on the door, rushed and breathless... and finds Marion looking sad.

Jester got a call that very morning saying Artagan needed her ASAP back in LA because the gallery is apparently a mess and he needs her help to organize the big night.

Fjord does his best to cheer Marion up but he also knows, he knows, how upset Jester must have been to lose the last few days home.

Meanwhile, Jester is doing her best to help Artagan (after finding out her mentor might be an amazingly talented artist but a terrible event organizer) and basically runs herself thin, going crazy and barely sleeping for a couple days.

Two days before the big exhibit everything is still a mess and it’s too much for her to handle alone... and then the Nein arrive.

What are you doing here? What is going on? How are you here?

And they just shrug and smile and say they missed her and ‘hey, do you need a little help with that?’ and before she knows it everyone is helping her up and putting together everything that’d been falling apart.

Beau basically intimidates the catering service into actually delivering on time by reviewing their contract and finding how much money they could lose if they don’t. Yasha, turns out, has a fantastic eye for art and helps pick where and how each piece should be hanged. Veth goes nuts with the decoration, making it way fancier than anyone expected this little art show to be —she demands black tie for everyone who is coming, too. Caleb and Essek result amazing with lights and music and manage got connect the whole audio system by some sort of magical miracle because it hasn’t worked properly since the 8s. Caduceus and Fjord offer to serve drinks when the barman calls in sick.

In the end, after a few hectic days, it all works out.

Jester finds out from Beau that Fjord basically knocked on their doors as soon as he found out she had to come back and talked everyone into coming and drove all the way here in his cheap shitty Ball Eater car (it broke down halfway through and Fjord and Caleb had to fix it themselves which is also why it took them two whole days to get to LA).

The night of the gallery everything is perfect and beautiful and Jester could cry because she has the best friends in the world —but, really, she could cry because she’s missed them so much and having them here with her has made LA seem like a true city of stars again.

And so, she takes a moment in between smiling and shaking hands and posing for pictures with Artagan (who is sort of taking all the credit for their work but it’s alright because he’s already hooked her and two others up with a bunch of interested agents and it seems like he really just wants to help this small artists have their big break) and Jester steps outside to take some air.

Fjord follows.

And she starts to thank him, earnestly, for all his help and support and she has no idea how she could’ve done any of this without them —without him. She can’t believe he followed her all the way here (as if Fjord has done anything else since the day they met on their college’s induction day... he always follows her)

Fjord, a little coyly, says that he could pay her back by lending him a couch while he looks for a place... and that’s how Jester finds out Fjord’s moving to the city to try and pursue acting.

“Job hunting wasn’t going too well either, so I figured I might as well give my dreams a chance... I would also really like to be closer to you,” he admits, in a moment of boldness.

And Jester understands. Finally. She sees what she was too afraid of admitting to herself out of fear of heartbreak and disappointment.

“I can lend you a couch,” she smiles, playfully, “but it will cost you... a movie, maybe diner later”

And his eyes sparkle as he steps closer and says, “I think I can manage that” and he asks if he can kiss her, following a hunch, and she nods.

Just as everyone shouts HAPPY NEW YEAR inside the building.

THE END

ok that’s all, i cannot bring myself to actually write this multichapter, but I hope anyone who is still here after ALL THAT enjoyed the ride.

Happy holidays!!

#fjorester #fjord stone #jester lavorre #critical role #critter fic #fanfic #sofia's nonsense

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phykios · 3 years

Text

honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.

"What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.

The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.

If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.

"Of August?" she asks.

"Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"Duh."

Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."

"Good, because we have plans."

She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"

"No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"

Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"

"Our Smarter House thing won an award."

"No shit?"

"Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."

She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.

Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."

"Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.

"No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.

"Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."

Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.

Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.

Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.

She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.

"I thought I had until two."

"That was before I had the best idea."

The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."

"First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."

Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.

Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”

Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."

Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."

"Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."

She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."

When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"

Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"

"The guy you've been seeing."

How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.

Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."

"How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.

"Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."

Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.

"That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."

"So, for a few hours?"

She shrugs. "More or less."

"I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."

"Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."

Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."

"Seeing or seeing-seeing?"

"Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."

"Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.

Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."

"Another business bro, I assume?"

"He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."

She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"

"Ballet."

Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”

“I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.

“Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”

“I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”

“The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.

Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.

“Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”

Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”

Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.

“You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”

She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.

Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”

“Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”

“2019 fall/winter?”

Annabeth nods.

“Styling?”

“Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”

Throwing her head back, she groans.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”

“Well… yeah, I was.”

“Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”

Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”

“That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”

Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”

“Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”

Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.

“I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”

“Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”

Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”

“I don’t know…”

“You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.

Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”

“They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”

Well. They are pretty cool.

“It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”

Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”

“I haven’t even done anything.”

“I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”

***

“Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”

“Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.

She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.

The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.

“Annabeth Chase.”

She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”

Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.

Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.

“And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.

“You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.

“Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”

She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”

Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”

She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”

He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”

“I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.

This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.

“I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”

He frowns. “You sure?”

Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.

“You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.

There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”

Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.

“It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”

From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”

She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.

“As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”

She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.

“But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”

Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.

Hey, it’s her night, too.

After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.

Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.

“...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”

“I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”

“You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”

“Rehab? Really?”

“What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”

Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.

But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”

Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.

The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.

Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.

Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.

Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.

The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.

She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.

That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.

Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.

She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.

She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.

It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.

She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.

Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.

It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you

#backstory backstory backstoryyyyyyy #my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #darkmagyk #perseannabeth #ballet au

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 3 years

Text

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

#lillith masterlist #lillith writes #lilliths writing

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mintaka14 · 3 years

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See the Light

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter Three – Living in a Blur

“No Rose or Juleka today?” Marinette asked as she stepped down into the galley of the Liberty with that effortless grace that Luka was coming to associate with the woman she’d become. She reached up to tuck back a lock of hair that had escaped from the braid over her shoulder, and Luka moved around the tiny kitchen, pulling out mugs, while the kettle whistled loudly in the background.

“No, they had a few things to organise today for the wedding. They said to say hi, though.” He didn’t mention the other things that Rose had had to say, or the broad, suggestive beams she given him before she dragged Juleka away on whatever mission she’d manufactured.

He handed Marinette the tea that he’d just made and shifted towards the couch in the living room, cradling his own coffee. Marinette sank into the armchair across from him. She blew on the mug and closed her eyes to inhale the steam.

“I still can’t quite believe that Juleka and Rose are getting married. It feels like only yesterday we were all in collège.” Marinette smiled, and sighed.

“They’re incredibly lucky to be getting MDC original wedding dresses. That’s one hell of a wedding present you’re giving them.”

“Juleka and Rose are covering the materials I’m just volunteering my time and a bit of sewing.”

Luka’s eyebrow rose sceptically. “One artist to another, I know it’s not ‘just’ anything, Marinette. Your time and skill is a very generous gift, and don’t forget, I’ve seen what you’re putting together for them. Jules and Rose can’t have been straightforward to design for.”

Marinette laughed. “But they’re giving me the chance to have fun,” she insisted. “I spend all day every day dealing with clients with no individuality or imagination, trying to convince them to trust me, so it’s a relief to get a chance to do something interesting for a change, with friends who are happy to indulge me.”

Luka leaned back, all plans to rehearse forgotten, as he watched Marinette talk about the inspiration behind the wedding dresses and the creative possibilities in dressing certain clients, her face lighting up and her hands gesturing animatedly as she grew more impassioned about her theories of clothing as a reflection of self. He followed the movement of her hands and lost himself in the endless blue of her eyes.

“I really need to ask Juleka if she’d be willing to model for me sometime. She’s always so compelling in whatever she wears, and so much fun to design for,” she said eventually. He found her eyeing him speculatively. “I’d love to have the chance to dress you one day.”

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” he said without thinking.

There was a heartbeat, then Marinette burst out laughing.

“Smooth line, Couffaine. Does that work on all the girls?”

“I wouldn’t know.” He decided to lean into it, and grinned at her. “I’ve only ever tried it on you. Is it working?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “How are you still single?” she asked.

“You’re a hard act to follow,” he said, and Marinette levelled a look at him.

“Luka, I was a fourteen year old clumsy mess who kept on flaking out on our dates. You can’t tell me I’m the gold standard of your relationships.”

Put like that, it was ridiculous, but it was true nonetheless. He’d had relationships, and they were sincere in the moment, but he’d drifted out of them as easily as he’d drifted into them, and they’d left him with little more than fond memories. None of them had left a mark like Marinette had. Over the years, he’d put it down to rose-coloured nostalgia, but then she’d walked into his life again, more Marinette than ever, and he’d fallen harder and faster than he had before.

He looked down at the mug of coffee in his hands.

“How about you? Anyone special in your life these days?” he asked the coffee with casual disinterest. She gave a soft snort.

“Hardly. It’s not like anything’s changed since we were going out.” She seemed to catch herself, and froze as Luka’s head came up to stare at her. “I just… mean, who’s got time for a relationship, right? Life’s too busy.”

“Not since we were going out?” Luka echoed her, frowning. “Marinette, you were fourteen. You haven’t dated anyone since then?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “I dated. It just never lasts long. It’s not that big a deal. And besides,” she muttered, “I’ve learned my lesson, the universe doesn’t want me to have a relationship.”

She put her mug abruptly on the table and stood.

“Weren’t we supposed to be practising?”

Luka got to his feet and reached for his guitar. Clearly this was a line of conversation that Marinette did not want to go down with him, and he dropped the subject to run through the song with her a few times, correcting her gently when her voice faltered.

He had to wonder, though, what the hell was wrong with the men in Marinette’s life that had left her love life such a sore subject?

Luka stopped again to make a suggestion about phrasing and breath control.

“All that time, never even knowing just how blind I’ve been,” Marinette tried again, sounding more confident with the slightly awkward vocal skips this time, and Luka gave her a smile.

“See?” he told her. “Fashion designer to the stars, artist, and now singer. You can add that to your résumé.”

He’d finally coaxed a laugh out of her, and then Marinette’s handbag buzzed. Luka watched the smile drop off her face. Her eyes flicked to the door. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. I have… a thing…”

She was gone before he could say anything further. For a moment, Luka sat there with his guitar silent in his lap, frowning thoughtfully. Apparently she was right – not much had changed in the ten years since they’d been kids together. There were still the abrupt excuses, the silences, the sudden disappearances.

Luka plucked out Now she’s here, shining in the starlight, and he considered the empty space where she’d been. He was coming to suspect that whatever had been going on when they were kids, whatever she’d been keeping to herself when she broke it off with him, it was something bigger than he’d imagined.

At that moment, Luka’s own phone chimed with an akuma alert, and the timing of it was jarring. His hand dropped, as it always did, to touch his empty wrist. He looked down at it, his frown growing troubled as a new thought took hold.

He found himself thinking back over the timing of some of those disappearances, and odd excuses, and the times she’d had just a little more knowledge of Ladybug's movements than any random civilian ought to, but it had all sounded so plausible at the time. Seen through this new lens, those moments took on a new significance the more he turned them over in his mind.

Black pigtails, unmistakeable blue eyes. The same damn plain black earrings that Marinette, the consummate fashion designer, was still wearing ten years later.

How had he never put it together before?

Luka was still sitting there, his hands resting on his guitar and his gaze fixed on nothing, when Juleka and Rose came home.

“Where’s Marinette?” Rose asked in obvious disappointment when she took in the quiet room.

“She had to leave,” Luka replied absently.

“Luka! You just let her leave?”

Luka could see the tiny frown that he was feeling reflected in his sister’s face, although he wasn’t sure what had prompted it in Juleka’s case.

“I’m not going to badger her into staying if she needs to go, Rose,” he said mildly.

Rose threw up her hands. “And how is she supposed to know you want her to stay if you don’t tell her? I don’t get why you’re both fighting this so hard. She’s single, you’re single, but both of you are too chicken to make the first move.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Juleka interjected, shooting a dark look at her brother. “Because I remember weeks and weeks of Taylor fucking Swift, and I do not want to go through that again.”

“That was ten years ago! You cannot tell me that there’s not something there!” Rose whirled and stabbed a finger at Luka. “You can’t argue with the Sparkly Sense.”

Luka was only half paying attention to the argument, and responded vaguely, “Marinette has too much going on in her life right now to worry about a relationship with anyone.” Like saving the city, over and over and over again, holy shit, she was Ladybug.

Once seen, it was hard to understand how he could have missed it, and his mind briefly derailed to speculate that it must be some sort of kwami-induced magic that obscured her identity. Given how adamant Ladybug had been back in the day that the secret of the miraculous holders’ identities had to be preserved, and how hard she had worked since then to maintain that secrecy, Luka had a bad feeling about how things would go if he told her that he knew.

He was about to become another crack in her armour, another worry dumped on her already overloaded shoulders. Although, what did he really know, when all was said and done? He had his suspicions, nothing more.

“Hopeless, the both of you,” Rose complained, and glared at Juleka. “Don’t you want your brother to live happily ever after?”

“I don’t want to have to live through weeks of I Almost Do again, because my stupid brother hasn’t got the sense he was born with, and you’re just encouraging him.”

Rose stomped away, muttering things under her breath, but Juleka stayed silent after that. His guitar still in his hand, Luka got to his feet and headed for his bedroom before Rose could come back and start again. He had too much else on his mind to deal with Rose’s matchmaking.

Every time he thought Marinette couldn’t get any more extraordinary, she surprised him all over again, but the music he played softly in the solitude of his room that night ached with all the burdens he’d seen in her eyes.

Some time later, he heard a soft knock on his door and it opened quietly. When he looked up, Juleka was leaning there, her hand on the door handle and a look of equal parts irritation and uneasiness on her face.

“Luka –“

“I’m fine,” he cut her off before she could say what he knew she was going to say. “I know what I’m doing, and it’s all good.”

Juleka’s mouth pinched. “Do you, though? Because from where I’m standing, we’re heading for Taylor territory again.”

Luka didn’t answer, his focus on his hands and the fragments of melody that he’d come to think of as Marinette’s song. Eventually he heard a sigh, and Juleka said, “I love you, you dumbass.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

The door shut behind her, and he was left alone with his thoughts and Marinette’s secrets.

~~~~~

“You’re playing with fire,” warned the voice of responsibility in Marinette’s handbag, and Marinette sighed. She shifted the bulky dress bags in her hands so that she could see the little round face peering up at her.

“It’s just a dress fitting, Tikki. Can’t I even have friends anymore?”

“It’s Luka,” the tiny kwami said primly. “Things never stay just friends with Luka, and I saw the way you’ve been looking at him. Remember what happened the last time you told someone?”

“That was ten years ago, and Luka is not Alya. Don’t you think things have changed a bit since then?”

“It never ends well,” Tikki insisted, and Marinette felt the weight of Ladybug closing in on her all over again. She looked up at the Liberty as she drew closer, and had never felt less free in her life.

“Don’t worry, Luka’s not even going to be there,” she said wearily. “Juleka said he’s got something tonight, so it’ll just be her and Rose there. And anyway, there’s no chance he’d ever be interested in me like that again.” Because if there was a chance, then Marinette would have to walk away now before she could do any more damage, and she’d never get to see Luka again. She couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t.

“Luka was a wonderful holder for Sass,” Tikki conceded, “but he’s always been a little too perceptive for comfort. If he were to find out…”

“We’re here,” Marinette said, cutting off the rest of Tikki’s dire predictions. The kwami vanished into the depths of her handbag, and Marinette maneouvred the dress bags carefully as she climbed the gangplank onto the boat and called a greeting as she reached the empty deck.

In spite of her mood after Tikki’s lecture, she felt a tiny smile curl her lips as Rose’s answering shriek echoed up from below deck, and she followed the sound down into the depths of the boat.

“Marinette!” Rose scolded reproachfully as Marinette descended carefully into the galley with the two dress bags in her hand and moved through into the living room. “You didn’t even say goodbye last time! We got back and you were just gone.”

Marinette held the dresses clear as Rose engulfed her in a whirlwind hug, and turned to meet Juleka’s more sedate greeting. The dark-haired girl gave her a nod and a quirk of a smile that turned to a frown when Rose gave her girlfriend a smug look.

Rose turned towards the bedrooms, and bellowed, “Luka! Look who’s here!”

“What’s up?” she heard Luka’s voice, and felt her heart stutter. Oh, that wasn’t good. Luka swung around the edge of the door, leaning against the frame behind his sister as he directed a slow, sweet smile at Marinette.

“Hey, you,” he said, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile back at him. Juleka rolled her eyes and slugged her brother in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Juleka!” Rose scolded.

“Weren’t you going out? Rose said you had a thing tonight,” Juleka said, and Luka frowned at her.

“Not for another hour. The band we were going to check out isn’t on til later.”

“Did I say eight?” Rose said innocently to the ceiling. “I meant nine. Oops.”

Marinette found herself standing there awkwardly holding the dress bags, her eyes shifting between the three of them.

“You don’t want to keep the guys waiting if you said you’d be there,” Juleka pushed.

“I only said I might,” Luka said, shooting his sister an annoyed look.

“Besides, he can catch them another time,” Rose insisted, staring at her girlfriend with a pointed message that Juleka ignored for once. “They won’t mind, and Marinette’s here now.”

Luka elbowed Juleka aside none too gently and came into the room. “I’m getting a coffee. Did you want anything, Mari?”

“I’d like a coffee,” Juleka said in a saccharine voice, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“I didn’t ask you, monster child.”

“You don’t have to stay on my account,” Marinette told Luka. “I’m only here to do the final dress fitting.”

“Oh no!” Rose protested. “You have to stay for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you’ve done with the wedding dresses.”

“You haven’t even seen the finished thing yet,” Marinette pointed out, and felt a flush rising at the smile that Luka was giving her.

“We don’t need to see them to know they’re going to be incredible,” he said. “And it wasn’t important. I was only half thinking of going out anyway.”

The noise Juleka made was not polite, and Luka made a rude gesture back without looking at his sister.

“Well,” said Rose brightly. “How about we leave them to it? They’re going to be doing this for a while.”

In Juleka’s bedroom, Marinette didn’t have to ask Rose if she was happy with her wedding dress once she’d settled the clouds of soft pink organza around her and done up the miles of tiny buttons. Rose was making a noise like a tea kettle on the boil that rose to a squeal of happiness as she spun around in front of Juleka’s bedroom mirror. Handbeaded organza flowers spilled down in glittering trails across the skirts as she turned, and Rose raised a hand to touch the flowers that clustered all over her bodice.

“It’s perfect!” she breathed. She made a move as if she was going to throw her arms around Marinette, but Marinette fended her off with a laugh.

“Hug me when we get you out of the dress,” she smiled. “How does it feel? Nothing slipping, or too tight?”

“It’s perfect,” Rose repeated, her voice turning a little wobbly with emotion.

When Marinette finally got Rose to stop twirling around for long enough to take the gown off again, they headed back to the living room to find the Couffaine siblings glaring at each other. Luka looked away as they came in, his mouth pressed in a tight line, and Juleka spun on her heel, stalking towards the bedroom without a word, leaving Marinette to follow.

She carefully removed Juleka’s wedding dress from its hanger while her friend stripped down to her underwear and slipped her formal shoes on, and then Marinette started easing Juleka into the gown.

“Mari, what’s really going on with you and Luka?” Juleka asked, her voice a little muffled by the softly glittering black fabric over her head. Marinette slid the dress down and settled it into place. “I love you, but he’s my brother and I’m worried about him.”

“We’re just friends,” Marinette said, and suppressed a flinch at the words. Juleka rolled her eyes.

“You were never just friends even when you were just friends. And the last time I thought you were just friends it turned out you’d been dating my idiot brother. So excuse me if I’m not buying it.”

Marinette swallowed at that, stung but unable to argue the point.

“Believe me, Juleka, I’m well aware of how badly I fucked up back then, and the last thing I want to do is hurt Luka like that again,” she said, insistent in the face of Juleka’s scepticism.

“You won’t mean to, but Luka gets stupid when you’re involved.”

“That was ten years ago,” Marinette protested.

“That was two minutes ago.”

Juleka’s exasperated words provoked a cold wash of dismay. Juleka had to be mistaken. Luka was long over her, he had to be. Somewhere deep down, though, Marinette felt a tiny fireworks explosion of something that she didn’t dare acknowledge.

“The moment you turn up, he drops everything without a second thought,” Juleka muttered as Marinette eased the hidden zip up. Marinette stepped back, and Juleka turned to face the mirror.

“Wow. Damn, Marinette,” she breathed. She angled herself a little, her eyes still on her reflection in the mirror. “I take it all back. You’re welcome to wreck my dumbass brother, as long as I get to keep this dress.”

Marinette gave a tightlipped little smile, and went back to regarding the gown with a critical eye. There really didn’t seem to be much that needed adjusting. She repositioned the crystal chipped dragon brooch that coiled over Juleka’s hip, where it caught up the fall of the fabric, but it all seemed to be working.

She extracted Juleka from the gown again, and back in the living room Rose was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through something on her phone. Luka had his guitar in his hands again, strumming something with his coffee forgotten on the table beside him. He looked up as Marinette and Juleka came in.

“How’s the dress?” he asked.

“It’s stunning,” Juleka said, and heaved a put-upon sigh. “I can’t stop you from being stupid, but at least you have good taste.”

He gave her a suspicious look, his eyes shifting to Marinette when there was no further explanation forthcoming. “What was that all about?”

Marinette shrugged awkwardly, but fortunately he didn’t press her on it.

“So are we doing Thai or that new Indian place tonight? There’s nothing on the Akuma alert,” Rose said from the couch, “but there is a new theory about who Ladybug is on the conspiracy forums.”

“Aliens, or the Mayor’s secret revenge love child this time?” Juleka asked, dropping onto the couch beside her.

“I miss the Ladyblog,” Rose said, stretching her arms over her head. “Remember that time Alya thought that Chloe was Ladybug?”

Marinette remembered.

On the couch, Juleka laughed. “How is Alya,” she asked, and tilted her head to throw a look at Marinette. “Have you seen her lately?”

Alya again. The universe seemed determined to beat her over the head with her failures. She opened her eyes to find them all watching her, and she gave a strained and unconvincing smile.

“Not recently. I think she’s working in a travel agency now. It’s been a few years, though.”

Nearly six years, to be exact, since she’d last bumped into Alya.

“Jules,” Luka said casually, “how about you and Ro go pick up dinner? Mari and I really should work on the song for the wedding a bit more.”

It was a transparent excuse to shift the subject and give her a bit of space, and she was grateful for it, even if Rose did give Luka a very unsubtle wink that he pretended to not see. Rose and Juleka didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd, but Luka threw her a quick glance as he laughed at something Rose said, and reached out to toss his wallet at Juleka, who pulled a few euros from it and threw it back. Marinette managed to respond lightly enough to a question about her preferences, and by the time it was just her and Luka she’d pulled herself together again.

“I take it that things aren’t good with Alya,” he said gently.

She shrugged, and the smile she gave him was a little unsteady. “Our friendship didn’t end well. We don’t talk to each other anymore.”

It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it was as close as she could get without giving away too much. There was no way she could explain how her former best friend had looked straight through her as if she was a stranger the last time they’d run into each other, or the sickening wash of guilt, remorse, and self-loathing she still felt over the reason behind it, even after all these years.

“It was a long time ago,” she said as easily as she could manage, but Luka had always been able to read her better than that. His hand closed over hers briefly, reassuring and strong, and for a moment she let herself draw on his warmth.

“It still leaves a mark, though, doesn’t it?” he said.

She couldn’t help wondering a little bitterly how different things might have been if she’d told Luka everything, instead of Alya, back when she was fourteen. Would it have been Luka looking at her with that terrible emptiness?

Marinette broke eye contact and pulled her hand away to wrap it around her now-cold mug. She was aware that Luka was regarding her as if he saw a lot more than she was letting on, but he didn’t push for more. Instead, he got to his feet.

“I need another coffee,” he said, and gave her a questioning look. “Tea for you?”

She took the distraction, and followed him into the galley.

Luka kept to safe subjects after that, telling her about the group of students he’d been working with after school, and a gig that had gone disastrously wrong, until she couldn’t help but giggle when he described the drummer slowly sliding off his stool and passing out face down on his snare drum.

“It actually improved the quality of his playing,” Luka said wryly.

And he laughed when she countered with an account of Chloe Bourgeois commisioning her to design and make an outfit last season.

“I don’t think she’d even considered that MDC might stand for Marinette Dupain-Cheng until she turned up for the fitting,” Marinette grinned. “You should have seen the look on her face, though.”

“Ridiculous!” Luka scoffed in a passable immitation of the Mayor’s daughter, and waved his hand in the air as Marinette giggled at him. “Utterly ridiculous!”

“And of course, nothing was good enough. She couldn’t believe I was expecting her to pay full price for such shoddy workmanship. I should be paying her to wear my rags.”

“Tell me you told her where to shove it,” Luka said, and folded his arms on the benchtop, leaning forward in anticipation. Marinette’s smile grew broader.

“Oh, better than that. I told her if it wasn’t to her satisfaction she was welcome to leave the dress and I’d cancel her contract, and I’d even waive the cancellation fee because we’d known each other such a long time. I was very helpful. I told her I was sure I could find someone willing to buy it instead, and Clara Nightingale had already seen it and asked if it was for sale. Which was true,” she added as an afterthought.

“And?”

Marinette tilted her chin, her smile turning smug. “She took the dress, of course. And ordered another one under a fake name a month later.”

“Seriously?”

“B. Queen, to be delivered to the Grand Paris Hotel. With her exact measurements. Seriously.”

Luka tipped his head back and laughed hard, and Marinette lost herself in the sound. God, he was a beautiful man.

Next to the couch in the living room, her handbag shuffled in agitation, and Marinette ignored it, but her smile faded in response to the reminder.

“Marinette,” Luka said more seriously, and when she looked up his blue eyes had deepened into something that was a little hard to read. He frowned a little, as if he was trying to decide what he should say. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I get the feeling that things haven’t been so easy for you. I know it’s been hard to let yourself get close to anyone.”

He was speaking slowly, measuring out each word carefully, and it felt like there was a whole lot he deliberately wasn’t saying.

“I just need you to know, the Liberty is always a safe place. We’re here for you. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

It would be so easy, so very easy, to fall into those ocean deep eyes and fall into his arms, and tell him everything. That was what made Luka Couffaine so dangerous to be around. With ten years of Tikki’s constant litany of concealment and duty ringing in her ears, Marinette clamped her mouth shut on all her secrets even as a tiny voice in the back of her head pleaded but this is Luka.

“Weren’t we supposed to practise the song?” Marinette blurted out, and felt the heat of an embarrassed flush rise in her cheeks. She hadn’t felt this thrown in years.

Luka accepted the abrupt shift with nothing more than a nod and a soft smile, as if he’d expected it.

“Back to the Disney salt mines,” he said drily, and startled a laugh out of her. “Don’t tell Rose I said that. She’d have me tried for treason.”

“How did we get ourselves into this?” Marinette asked, and Luka chuckled.

“Well, Ro loves Disney, no surprise there, and Jules loves Ro.”

“And you love them both,” Marinette said softly.

“And you’d do anything for the people you care about, even agree to sing at their wedding if they asked you to,” Luka said just as gently, and they exchanged glances. “So here we are, knee deep in Disney magic. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to sit through Cinderella, both versions, and I can recite Tangled in my sleep.” His smile softened. “I’m developing a new appreciation for it, though.”

Marinette dropped her gaze, avoiding his eyes. He said in an easier manner, “I have to admit, there’s some great music. You should hear Rose belt out Let It Go sometime, and Jules did an incredible cover of Once Upon a Dream one Valentine’s Day for Rose.”

“What about you? Do you ever sing along?” she asked, trying to match his tone.

“What do you think? Music nerd here.”

He rapped out a solid, syncopated beat on the benchtop, and that husky voice of his sang, “Tatou o tagata folau...” She couldn’t help grinning, and he grinned back as he segued into a phrase from Circle of Life before riffing a bit of the simple bear necessities, and then finished on “You’re welcome, and thank you!” as she burst out laughing.

“Good music is good music,” he said with a shrug. “I get a lot of eyerolling from some of the kids when I start talking Disney in class, but it’s a starting point for a lot of discussion, and it turns out everyone always has their favourite song.”

“So what about you? What’s your favourite?” she asked, and he said easily, “Oh, there are a lot I could go with. It all depends on my mood.”

“Yes, but if you had to pick one?”

She wasn’t sure why she was pushing, and he hesitated for a long moment. Just when she thought he was going to brush it off, he reached for his guitar.

“It’s not strictly Disney, but ...” She didn’t recognise the soft, rippling intro that he played, and it wasn’t until he started singing that she worked out what it was.

He didn’t look at her as he sang about someday, out of the blue. It didn’t have to mean anything, it was just a song, he could have been thinking about anyone, but when he sang about still believing and still having faith in a voice that was far too heartfelt, Marinette felt her breath catch.

She couldn’t be doing this to him all over again.

~~~~~

He knew, the moment that his hands stilled on the guitar strings, that he’d gone too far and given away too much. The stricken look on Marinette’s face made that blatantly clear.

From the doorway, Rose breathed, “Oh Luka, that was lovely!”

Juleka dropped the bags of takeaway on the table and muttered something, while Luka watched Marinette and felt his heart sink like a stone.

“We so have to do a Road to El Dorado movie night tonight,” Rose was saying brightly. “You’re staying, aren’t you, Marinette? Otherwise Luka’s going to be the odd man out again.”

“I wish I could,” Marinette said. “I… I have to go. Sorry, Rose, maybe another time.” Her glance flickered in his direction. “Sorry. I’m really sorry I can’t stay for dinner after all.”

She scrambled her things together, dropping her handbag and coming up red-faced. This was more like the Marinette he remembered from their teenage years, and it brought up some difficult memories. She flashed an awkward smile in answer to Rose’s protests, and then she was gone.

“Well,” Rose said, staring at the empty doorway. “I guess Marinette’s still Marinette.”

“Rose!” Luka’s voice cracked like glass, and his future sister-in-law’s eyes widened at Luka’s uncharacteristically sharp tone. “Remember all those plans to get Marinette and Adrien together?” How well did those work out?”

“But this is different!” Rose protested.

“This is no different. No more plans. I’ve screwed things badly enough as it is.”

He drew in a deep breath and blew it out again, thinking of all those secrets that Marinette had to keep, and the distances that had grown in her life because of them. More quietly, he said, “Marinette could really use a few good friends in her life. I don’t want her to lose us again because we’re pushing for more than she can give.”

“I…” Rose looked away, biting her lip, and then met his eyes. “Yeah, I get it.”

Dinner was quieter than usual, and Luka ignored the perturbed glances his sister kept shooting him. He pushed the food around, barely tasting it, and put it aside when he couldn’t pretend he was actually eating it anymore.

Luka swung away from the table, his phone in his hand, and hesitated, then he texted Marinette before he could talk himself out of it.

+Sorry about that. Rose has promised to back off on the matchmaking – I think she’s just got wedding fever. Want to run through the song one more time before the wedding?+

It wasn’t Rose’s schemes, though. He knew that. Marinette was taking far too long for it to mean anything good, although he kept trying to tell himself that she might not be able to answer, she might be in the middle of something, she might have her phone off... Juleka muttered at him to stop fidgeting so much, god, you’re driving me crazy, before it finally chimed with a response.

+I think I know it now+ she sent back. +See you next week+

Luka stared numbly at the words on his screen. It was happening all over again, and this time he had no defences left. Juleka was watching him with a look of exasperated sympathy.

“You’re just as stupid as you ever were,” she told him, and Luka exhaled heavily. It was hard to argue with that.

#see the light #lukanette #lukanette endgame #pro lukamari #Disney

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silence-burns · 3 years

Text

Please Hate Me //part 46

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter

Mornings, contrary to popular belief, could actually be quite enjoyable, especially if experienced around noon.

There were few things better than the comforts and warmth of one's bed, and a loved one's body pressed close, resting peacefully within reach. Even the sunlight didn't bother Loki much. He'd grown used to the dim rays of the winter sun doing their best against the low-hanging clouds. It would snow again, as it did the past couple of days.

The apartment had windows overlooking a wild patch of a garden tucked in between the buildings, forgotten or ignored by the residents. It wasn't much, but a few gnarled trees managed to take roots and grow unattended, to the delight of all kinds of birds from the neighborhood. Once the snow melted, it would be easier to judge if there was any potential to work on that place, but for now, both of you just watched over it, occasionally feeding whatever animals fancied some corn on that day.

The few snowmen Peter had worked on showed both his progress and the unquestionable lack of skills. Loki wasn't sure if it was possible for a snowman to lean to the side any further without falling, but he was certain the boy would ease his doubts next time he paid a visit.

Thankfully, chances of that happening anytime soon were low enough for Loki to feel safe, at least until classes end. A small mercy, but one that he'd take gladly.

Loki turned to the side and buried his face in your neck. The soft fabric of the covers slipped off your sleeping form, daring him with a display of skin marked by his ministrations from last night. Or maybe the night before that. It was hard to discern between the days lately. They blurred together because of the amount of work to focus on. The apartment was in a good condition overall, but in dire need of redesigning. The tiresome work was made easier once Loki realized how easily his magic could bend the walls and the space contained within them.

Still, he deserved to rest, and he intended to continue doing so when he heard the last thing he wanted.

Knocking.

It couldn't be Peter, who'd either walk in or stick himself to the window after half a minute of not answering. Loki looked over his shoulder. The window behind him was still boy-free.

That meant whoever decided to make the gravest mistake of their lives could be a neighbor. Neighbors were supposed to be friendly, or at least neutral toward new residents, as you'd explained a few days ago. It wouldn't be anything strange if one of them decided to pay a little visit to say hi. None did so far, but if any dared, Loki would make sure it was their last.

Unfortunately, there was another possibility that came solely from the fact of an opening business, advertising it on the aforementioned door and allowing the, also aforementioned, boy to spread the business cards all over the city.

It could be a client.

It wouldn't be such a bad thing overall, but it was at the very bottom of the things Loki wanted to deal with instead of sleeping. If it was up to him, he'd just cancel the sound with a quick spell and ignore it further, but he couldn't forget your joy when your first client visited a few days ago. The sense of purpose it gave you and the way it made you smile were still vivid in Loki's memory. Even if the first client was a first-grader missing a tooth.

Still, you made him a promise and even put him into the schedule, promising to resolve his problem...today, actually.

Loki sighed and braced himself mentally for the walk downstairs. If the kid showed up to check how it went, he'd be in for a surprise. Loki pushed himself off the mattress, pulling the covers over your shoulder to keep you warm.

He didn't bother himself with looking for a coherent set of clothing among the things scattered on the floor and furniture. Lately, he'd spent most of his free time in a wonderfully green robe you gave him as a gift anyway, and he didn't feel like breaking his new routine. Walking down the stairs, Loki did his best to keep his eyes open enough to see the steps. A child or not, someone would be getting a lecture about the importance of beauty sleep…

Loki opened the door, reminding himself that however strange it might sound, murder was not always the answer to every problem.

Loki frowned. He closed the door. He opened it again.

"Haven't I murdered you already?" he asked.

Agent Coulson put on a smile he must've practiced in front of a mirror a hundred times. "It would seem so."

The old lady living next door looked them over and decided she didn't need to leave her apartment as much as she had thought. The locks clicked one by one when she turned on her heels and closed them firmly.

Loki debated following in her steps when Coulson said something that made even Loki freeze.

"I paid you a visit because the Avengers and SHIELD need your help."

Loki blinked before erupting into laughter - waves and waves of it that he just couldn't stop. His body shook with the bizarre words of a long dead human he had almost forgotten about already. For a moment, he considered what the neighbors must be thinking if they'd been eavesdropping, but it was of secondary importance. What really mattered was that his mood changed so quickly Loki hadn't even noticed.

"I'm glad you're taking my visit well," Coulson smiled tightly, waiting patiently for Loki to calm down.

"Oh, don't worry. Killing you the second time will do wonders to my mood for the whole week," a dagger slipped into Loki's hand.

"Who are we killing today?"

Both men froze hearing you. You walked down the stairs with a blanket pulled tightly over your shoulders. Good manners dedicated you cover your yawning mouth, but your hands bunched in the thick fabric of the blanket reminded you of what was truly important in one's life, especially before noon. Or coffee.

"I thought we agreed on a no killing rule in the mornings? It complicates the whole day."

"To be fair, I've killed this man before."

"And now he's come for a refund?" You turned to Coulson. "I'm sorry, agent. We aren't open yet. Can you come back in the afternoon?"

"Don't worry about it," the agent said. "I've come for a completely different matter. As I've already begun explaining to your…"

"Love of my life," you helped him.

"...I came here asking for your help. Both of you. I would be delighted if we could talk about this like civilized people."

"What a wonderful idea, my dear corpse. Come in."

"Could you please put down your gun first?"

"I don't have a-"

"Please. I just want to talk."

Coulson's polite smile was as unnerving as you remembered it from the few rather brief encounters you'd had in the past.

"Fine," you growled, pushing the blanket to the side and dropping a gun onto the coffee table.

Loki had his eyes on the agent when he walked further into the room. Loki and you were still not sure whether it should be an office or just a living room, so for now it stayed somewhere in between. Coulson didn't mention the state of disarray, but he didn't sit on the couch.

"So what's all the fuss about?" you asked.

"An object was stolen from a SHIELD safe house two nights ago. Despite our greatest efforts, we have been unable to find it. We are well aware of the set of skills the two of you possess," Coulson gave Loki a sharp look, "and are keen on paying you generously for your help."

"No," Loki shrugged. "We listened, now you can go bother someone else."

The agent sighed. He didn't seem particularly surprised, though.

"How generously?" you asked carefully. You shushed Loki before he started complaining. "You must realize we're living quite comfortably already and there's not much that we need."

"Name your price then." Coulson's smile didn't waver, and it was clear he was open to negotiations. The case must be dire, then. And if whatever had been stolen came from the depths of SHIELD's super secret base, it must not only be worth a fortune, but also highly dangerous and possibly not quite from this world.

Loki's elbow kept on jabbing your ribs in desperate hope of getting your attention, but you were too deep in your schemes already.

"We don’t have much interest in money," you leaned back on the couch, fixing the blanket absentmindedly, "but since both of us already have ties with your organization, why not go into that direction? We'd love to have the kind of… support you can offer."

The smile on your face was sweet enough to make Loki's teeth rot, but he kept quiet. He had no idea what was on your mind, but he was keen on finding out. He looked at the agent.

"I'm afraid SHIELD is not the right kind of agency to clean up after you mess something up," Coulson said.

"I'm pretty sure you guys are perfect when it comes to disappearing people and wiping away their messes as if they never were. Last time I saw you work, you were quite efficient."

There was definitely a history between the two of you. Loki kept his smile to himself as he watched the agent's shoulders shift. Whatever the story was, it clearly involved a part the agent was not the happiest about.

"Could you reconsider?" he asked at last.

"We named our price."

"This artifact is of the utmost importance. Surely you understand what the stakes are?"

"This is a private business, darling," you gestured around. "If you wanted the heroes, especially those working pro bono, I'm afraid you climbed the wrong tower. But since you came to us, and I'm sure that’s not because you miss our lovely faces, you must've already considered that option, didn't you?"

Coulson sighed. "You've got yourself a deal."

The grin on your face was nothing short of wolfish. "How lovely. Now, what did you lose?"

The box Coulson took out of the pocket of his suit was neither big nor pretty. If anything, the thin wood looked worn, and the edges were rounded from time and touch. Still, it was enough to make Loki tense next to you, and not touch it when the agent set it on the table.

"It used to hold a pin, and the pin used to have a gem of unknown origin. Now there's neither, and we want them back."

You exchanged looks with Loki.

"We'll contact you when we find anything out," you promised.

You wondered how desperate Coulson must've been if he didn't even argue before leaving the not-office. In the silence that fell upon the room, your attention turned to the box. No ornaments and not even a lock. If such an important pin had been put inside of it, why was the box not secured more?

"What do you think?" you laid back into Loki's side.

"Are we actually doing this? I'm not the right person to talk about trust issues, but I'm pretty sure I've already killed that guy."

"Did you sense anything off about him?"

"Not really. But when it comes to this little box…" Loki's hand hovered above it, but he didn't touch the wood. "I probably shouldn't be surprised to find mice residue, but I'm quite puzzled about that disgusting tang of necromancy."

"Do you think the pin had been used for some dark rituals?" you wiggled your eyebrows.

"I'm afraid we'll only find that out if we can figure out where the pin went."

"What are we waiting for then?”

A few hours passed without any further interference, but as all good things, that time had to pass at last. The rather casual afternoon at your apartment had been interrupted by a certain boy who had secured himself a spare set of keys beforehand, and now used them to enter.

Peter froze midstep.

"Close the door. It takes way too long to reignite all these candles," you said from the living room turned office turned ritual site.

The thick black candles were laid out around a circle drawn with chalk, and strange symbols painted with what Peter could only hope was actually paint. Very, very red paint. The same type of paint covering Loki's bare skin in twisting, overflowing sigils. With his eyes closed, and head upturned, he chanted quietly in a language of wind and shadows.

"Cookie?" you offered from the couch, where you laid sprawled.

The bag was almost empty, but the cookies turned out to be great anyway. Peter sat at the very edge of the couch, observing the god and his ritual.

"Is that...normal?"

"Yeah, chill. We got a job from a dead man walking who told us to find a stolen alien artifact, so we're doing our very best," you yawned. "Meaning, he is working and I'm supporting him wholeheartedly."

"I'd have better support from the chicken I told you I needed," Loki murmured between breaths.

"Where the fuck was I supposed to find you a living chicken in the middle of New York?"

Peter took another cookie. "Does that mean you won't be able to find that thing?"

You waved your hand dismissively as Loki focused back on chanting. "It'll be fine, he's already done that once with perfect results and no chickens violated."

"What were you looking for?"

"The remote."

Peter nodded. Chewing on the last cookie, he fished his homework out of his backpack and laid it out on the table, next to a gun. He had a spider-patrol planned for the evening, but had to finish schoolwork first. With Ned sure to ramble about his newest set tomorrow, Peter had no chance of finishing it before the classes started in the morning.

#please hate me #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki laufeyson imagine #loki series #marvel loki #loki fanfic

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years

Text

Bio!dad Bruce Day 7-Fashion Show

Marinette laughed as she linked arms with Alix and hurried out of school. Today, the girls had arranged to go out for the evening, and they were insistent that nothing would ruin their fun, even an akuma. As the shorter girls hurried away, Alya watched from where she stood on the steps. When she had transferred, she had hoped that the girl she had made a connection with would become her best friend. Now, as they neared the end of April, she had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t part of the other’s inner circle.

Although she was friendly with the entire class, Marinette had quickly proven to be hard to get close to. She had her life out of school, and she had her life in school. They didn’t mix.

Unknown to the rest of the school, Marinette’s birthday was coming up. Every year, she would do something small with Tom and Sabine. Sometimes she would invite a friend over. Mostly, she kept her birthday quiet. The teen knew that if she offered, her class would love to celebrate with her, but she didn’t see it as a big deal. three years earlier, Bruce had asked her if she wanted to do anything for her birthday. When she had mentioned that she didn’t really celebrate it that much, he had nodded in acceptance. Each year, he flew into Paris and took her out for a day of shopping, an amusement park, or a fancy dinner. This year, he had invited her to join him in Gotham so that her brothers could come along. Since the event earlier in the month, Bruce had been more at ease when talking about many of the things going on in his home city. Now that he knew that Marinette was already entrenched in the hero life that he had been working so hard to keep her out of, he had opened up about the times that the family had vanished during her visits.

When Marinette had eagerly agreed to join him in Gotham, Bruce had asked his daughter of she had any preferences on what they did. The girl, as expected, shook her head and told him to surprise her. As long as they were together, it didn’t really matter. Imagine her surprise, when she got home from her late-night movie with Alix, to find her parents waiting for her, both buzzing in excitement.

“Mariette! Oh good, we were afraid that you would be out later. Bruce got in contact with us, he is going to fly you our for the entire weekend, instead of just one day!” While the bakers continued to gush about how wonderful it was for Bruce to fly Marinette out for her birthday, the girl paused. Usually, as much as she enjoyed her brothers, they were very upfront with her. When she had asked if they knew what Bruce was planning, they had been cagey. Now, he was flying her out on a Thursday, and bringing her back on a Tuesday? That was a long time considering she still had school.

Later that week as she packed her carry on, the noirette crinkled her nose in concentration. She had been doing the best she could to figure out what it could be, but she still had found nothing on their plans for the next few days. Once she had finished, she plopped the bag next to her suitcase. Whatever her family had planned, she could only hope that she was ready for it.

The next day at school, Marinette rolled her eyes as Alya started to chatter at her. The girl was nice, yes, but Marinette had seen what had happened when she had started to zero in on information. Alya was not likely to let anything go, which sadly, meant that for the sake of her secret identity, Marinette had t keep her distance. When Nino plopped into his seat in front of her, he turned to flash Marinette a grin. “you ready for your trip, dudette?” Marinette smiled in return,

“So ready! I finished packing last night, so Maman is going to pick me up at noon. That makes sure I have a little under four hours to get on my plane.” Nino nodded in understanding.

“International travel is nothing to mess with. You may be joined by Chloe; she is flying out to visit her mother. Where are you flying into?”

“New York! They said that they would meet me there, and that we would head back after whatever surprise they’ve been planning.” Nino snickered at his friend’s frustration. It was well known within their friend group that the girl liked to know what was going on so that she could plan accordingly. The last time they had tried to surprise her, Kim had ended up with a broken arm, and Alix had gotten enough blackmail to last a lifetime. It was also pretty common for the girl to refer to her family in vague terms. As much as she trusted her friends, her class was more than willing to dig into her personal life in an attempt to force friendship. Because of this, Marinette tried to keep her personal life a vague as possible. In situations like this, she was grateful that Nino understood what she meant, because Alya had caught onto their conversation and started to ask as many questions as she could. Thankfully, Chloe must have gotten the notice from Nino to rescue her, because the blonde swaggered into the room and made a beeline for the duo’s desk.

“So, Mari trash, what this I hear about you leaving the country?” while Alya bristled at the name that the heiress had thrown out, Marinette sent her friend a secret smile. Chloe sent her a nod before returning to riling up Alya until Madame Bustier made her way in, effectively shutting down all conversations.

The girls giggled as they hurried through the airport. When they had realized that they were on the same flight, they had agreed to meet up at the airport and wait out the extra time together. As the duo sat there, they chatted and traded pictures, and discussed fashion. When Chloe mentioned that her mother was taking her to meet a ‘rich client who she wont name. Ridiculous!’ Marinette paused. “Chloe, that’s not the only reason that your flying out, right?” the blond gave an undignified snot.

“Honestly Mari, I wish! She’s dragging me to her ‘secret fashion show for the ages’ as she calls it.” Soon the girls were giggling and discussing the latest trends. When the flight attendants called for first class, the two girls gather their bags and made their way over to the line that was forming. When they had gotten settled (conveniently next to each other, which spoke of manipulation to Marinette, although she refrained from mentioning it to the diva next to her), they each pulled out a book and got ready for their flight. Thankfully, they both made the transatlantic flights enough to know what to expect.

That evening, when they arrived, the girls hurried to get through security and collect their bags. As they exited the baggage claim, both girls started to scan for their rides. On one side of the airport, was Audrey Bourgeois’ personal assistant. Next to her stood the stately figure of Alfred Pennyworth. While Marinette threw herself at Alfred in a hug, Chloe nodded to the frazzled looking brunette who had greeted them. The girls hugged and parted ways, promising to meet up on Monday if they didn’t see each other before hand.

While Chloe settled in her mother’s penthouse, Marinette was buried in a pile of hugs from her brothers. When they had finally given her room to breathe, her father introduced her to a girl who had been standing nearby. Cassandra (her sister!!) smiled at her and waved shyly. Marinette had sent her a smile worthy of the sun and given the girl a hug in return.

The next morning, the two girls were the first to join Alfred in the kitchen. Was Marinette caught Alfred up on the last few months, she started to help him with breakfast. Cassandra (Cass, Marinette scolded herself) settled on a stool to watch her move through the kitchen with a fluidity that spoke of many, many hours of experience. Once Bruce and they boys had joined them, the group settled at the dining table.

When the food had been cleared up, Marinette turned to her father, “you know, you made it really hard to pack for this trip, when I had no idea what we are going to do!” Bruce smiled at her ire and easily brushed aside her worries.

“it’s a good thing that we’re going shopping then, isn’t it, Marinette?” the way the girls face lit up made Tim snort.

“B, you really shouldn’t have said that, now she’s not going to sit still for the rest of the day.” The teen made a face at the look sent his way and Marinette huffed at her older brother.

“At least I know how to dress myself nicely without having someone pick my clothes out for me!” Dick sniggered at her response before wincing as she directed her fury his way. “don’t think I’m ignoring you, Richard.” The man froze, because his sister had used his first name only once and that occasion was not to be brought up unless the world was ending. “your fashion choices are even worse than Dad’s!” As the family started to argue about the validity of her statements, Marinette slipped away, beckoning for Cassandra (Cass!) to follow her.

Once they were in Marinette’s temporary room, the girl handed her sister (!!) a small wrapped package. “Tim gave me a heads up that there was a new addition to the family, and I wanted to make something for you.” The other girl studied her for a moment before hesitantly ripping the paper. Inside was a small journal that was leather bound and had the name Cass written in an elegant script (A/N Cass is probably the character that I am the least familiar with the origin of. That said, I’m going to run off the assumption that she is learning to read when she is brought to join n the Wayne family. If I am wrong, lmk, for now, this is what we are vibing with). The quiet girl gave Marinette a tentative hug as a thank you before Tim knocked on the doorframe.

“Time to go, ladies. Your chariot awaits.” Marinate rolled her eyes at their brother while throwing a pair of balled up socks at him.

“We’re coming, boy genius. Be fearful though, this is the start of an alliance. Soon, maybe ill be able to finally compete against you boys on game night without rigging the games!” Tim spluttered at her declaration as she strode past him. He huffed and hurried after the girls, bemoaning Bruce for making this trip a ‘family affair’.

Three hours later, Tim and Dick were each carrying handfuls of shopping bags, as the family of five re-entered their temporary living space. The girls were walking together, Marinette explaining some of her ideas for different designs. Alfred smiled at them as they all stood talking together, until an unfamiliar ringtone broke the low ambiance. The brothers looked at each other in confusion, while Bruce raised an eye at his youngest daughter. The girl flushed in embarrassment and dug into her purse for a long moment before pulling out a phone that was very obviously not her own. “hey! Is everything ok?” her immediate switch to French made the others pause and zero in on her conversation. “Oh, you caught it. How much damage was there?” A pause and then, “do I need to- I know I’m supposed to be on vacation but- oh fine! Leave it on my balcony in the jar, ill take care of as soon as I can.” A beat, and the girl made a face at whatever the person on the other end of the phone said. “stay safe, and call me if you need me, yeah?” once she had hung up, the girl turned back to them with a raised eyebrow. “what? Are you saying you don’t have a second phone for emergencies?”

The next day, Saturday, was a whirlwind, as Alfred got everyone up and moving by7 am. When asked what was going on by Marinette, the butler simply smiled and moved to lure Dick out of bed. When the family was once again gathered around the breakfast table, Marinette turned to her father and demanded an explanation at the reason for a wakeup call before what she considered ‘reasonable hours’. The man smiled in return, “Today, Marinette, we are going to celebrate your birthday. As promised, this year, the entire fairly will be able to join in.” the girl protested at his declaration.

“what was yesterday? I thought that was us celebrating my birthday without going overboard!” Dick laughed at her shock before jumping into the conversation.

“well, Net, yesterday was part one. Today is part two…and the part that we think you’ll like the most.” At her confusion, Tim leaned over from his spot across the dining table, pushing a stack of six tickets towards her,

“were going to Audrey Bourgeois’ secret fashion show.” The screech that came from the youngest in the family was well worth the suspense.

As the family approached the hidden venue, Marinette felt excitement bubble up once again. She had spent the day making sure that the entire family was dressed appropriately for the event. Somehow, Bruce had managed to buy a dress on the sly for her, after catching her gazing longingly at it for the duration of their time in the shop. As for the others, for the most part, they had the necessary pieces to put together a look that would be presentable at the secret show. The door was opened once they had handed over their tickets, and the Wayne family were handed a stack of passes that they hurriedly settled around their necks as they were show their way to their seats.

When the catwalk lit up, Marinette sat there, frozen, anticipating the beginning of the show. The lights blacked out, and a spotlight followed the first model on her way towards the middle of the room. Marinette’s breath caught in shock at the beauty of the coat that was trailing down the runway. As the next model made his way out, Marinette lost herself in the world of fashion.

After, Bruce turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow, “so…was this too over the top for your birthday?” the 14-year-old smiled at her father.

“no,” she breathed, “it was perfect”

whew! that was a long one! obviously, this one is not compleate, but it’s other half is going to be coming soon! any feedback is more than welcome, im going to try to keep these a little longer if i can...

also, what did y’all think of Alya? i’m not her biggest fan, but didnt want to make her a villian?

#b!dbwm2020 #b!dbwm #miraculous ladybug #maribat #My writing #shit this was supposed to be short #i love Chloe #so she will probably play a bigger role in mari's life #idk where this came from man...

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petersasteria · 4 years

Text

Marriage? Pass. - Peter Parker

Pairing: Financial advisor!Peter x Museum curator!Reader

Requested? Nah.

PP Masterlist

* * * *

"Good morning, Pete." You yawned before slowly sitting up. You glanced at your boyfriend as he just hummed in reply. He wasn't a morning person, but he had a demanding job that he's going to be late to if he doesn't wake up now.

You give Peter a light nudge and told him to wake up or he'll be late if he didn't start his morning routine now. Peter grumbled and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a few times as he adjusted to the light and sat up. He turned to you and kissed your cheek.

"Good morning. Thanks for waking me up." He smiled sleepily at you with his messy bed hair all over the place. You giggled, "You're welcome. Go shower and I'll make breakfast."

"I know, I know." Peter smiled and got out of bed to go to the shower. You got out of bed too and stretched before starting your morning routine. You've been doing it for as long as you can remember. At this point, your movements are all muscle memory.

Your routine went like this: while Peter is in the shower, you fix your shared bed and charge his phone because he always forgets. Then, you take both of your empty glasses from your night stands and head to the kitchen. When you get to the kitchen, you put the glasses in the sink and prepare breakfast.

Breakfast was a little tricky because Peter didn't like having the same food everyday. Same goes for lunch and dinner. Thankfully, you already knew this and you made a schedule for every meal. Every night before you went to bed, you write down options for Peter and he would choose the next day. The schedule was written on a 6.5" chalkboard and it's placed on top of the kitchen island.

You grabbed the chalkboard and quickly went to the bathroom and knocked. You knew Peter wouldn't hear you, so you shouted.

"Pete? What do you want for breakfast? Egg and bacon sandwich with coffee, a bowl of cereal, pancakes with orange juice or waffles with hot chocolate?" You asked loudly.

"Can I have waffles, but with bacon on the side? Also, I want coffee with that. Not hot chocolate. Thanks, honey!" Peter shouted back as you quickly wrote it down on the chalkboard.

"Gotcha. Love you!"

"Love you too!"

You smiled to yourself and went back to the kitchen to start cooking Peter's request. What he has, you also have. You didn't mind that Peter mixed up the breakfast choices. In fact, his taste buds are pretty helpful in grocery shopping. If he doesn't like it, you don't buy it anymore. It's pretty simple.

After cooking breakfast and setting the table, you prepared Peter's lunch. Since it was a weekday and both of you had jobs, all you had to prepare for Peter's lunch was the dessert which was cut up fruits in a small tupperware. You cut up a few fruits, put them in a tupperware, and put them in the fridge.

Just as you finished, Peter walked in and sat down. You sat across from him and both of you began eating. Peter didn't like talking while eating breakfast and you learned that the hard way. To fill in the silence, you connected your phone to a bluetooth speaker and played classical music which always relaxed Peter.

He looked at you and gave you a close-lipped smile. After all these years of being together, you knew his smile meant 'thank you'.

After breakfast, it was Peter's turn to do his part. He washed the dishes as you quickly went to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Peter knew you took your time in the bathroom that's why both of you wake up really early in the morning so both of you wouldn't be late.

After washing the dishes, Peter prepared your dessert for lunch. You didn't like fruits that much and you were allergic to a few of them, so Peter packed you chocolate pudding instead. After packing your dessert, Peter wiped the table clean, disconnected your phone from the bluetooth speaker, and went to your shared room to charge it.

After showering, you were still in a towel and you opened the bathroom door slightly for Peter to come in. Both of you brushed your teeth together and got dressed together. It was all fun and domestic and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

When both of you are finished dressing up, you both unplug your phones and go to the kitchen to get the desserts you packed before going to the living room to get your bags and put your shoes on. After that, both of you share a kiss before getting in your respective cars and driving to work.

That was your routine everyday for seven years. You met Peter in college. You just turned twenty and your friends took you to a nice restaurant that you've always wanted to go to. Peter was there with his aunt and his aunt's boyfriend when he saw you. With all the courage he gathered, he walked to your table and asked you out. The rest was history.

"Good morning, Y/N!" Becca, your colleague, said with a playful smile on her face. You chuckled and said, "Good morning! What's got you so smiley and happy today?"

You signed in and put your things on your desk and sat down. Becca stood in front of your desk and grabbed a pen. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow your pen." Becca giggled and raised her left hand where the pen was.

You looked at the pen she was holding and did a double-take when you saw a pretty engagement ring on her finger.

"Oh my god." You said in shock. You stood up from your seat and grabbed her left hand. "Oh my god." You repeated.

"I know!" Becca shrieked. "I'm engaged!"

"You're engaged!" You squealed. "Yay! I'm so happy for you!" You pulled her in for a hug before looking at the ring again. It was so gorgeous.

"He proposed last night." Becca gushed. "I honestly still can't believe it."

"That's so amazing. I'm happy for both of you!" You exclaimed and sat down again. Becca took a seat in front of your desk and asked, "What about you and Peter? I thought you guys would get engaged first, to be honest. You've been together for so long. Meanwhile, Heath and I have been dating for only three years. You guys getting married soon?"

You knew it was an innocent question, but it was a touchy topic for you. It wasn't that you didn't want to get married. You did; you truly wanted to marry Peter and you were ready. You've been ready five years ago.

Peter was the problem. He didn't want to get married. He told you that one morning on your fourth anniversary when you both saw someone propose in public.

"Hey, Pete?"

"Hmm?"

"You ever thought of getting married?" You asked softly as both of you walked hand in hand in Central Park.

He looked at you for a second before looking ahead. He shrugged and said, "I'm not really into the whole marriage thing, y'know? Besides, why do people have to make such a big gesture to show people that they're going to be with one person for the rest of their life? Like, I'm really happy with what you and I have and I can see us lasting for a long time and we're official for four years now and we will be official for as long as we're together. So, why do we have to make things official again, but with a piece of paper this time?"

"Marriage has a lot of shit, babe. Trust me. There's a pre-nup thing and planning so many things that wouldn't matter in the end because who the fuck cares about centerpieces, anyway? It's literally a thing for each table with the table number on it. It'll just be looked at for, like, a second and then it wouldn't be paid attention to anymore. Plus, weddings are hella expensive. The national average cost of a wedding dress is about one thousand and six hundred something dollars and that includes alterations already. BUT- dress prices are based on a lot of factors and they generally range from five hundred dollars to four thousand dollars. And that's JUST the gown for the bride. What more if they add the venue, the decorations, the dresses for the bridesmaids, the tuxes for the dudes, the fuckin' flowers, and a whole lot of other shit?" Peter rambled.

You nodded. He made a few valid points, but to you, marriage is the life goal.

"Why'd you ask? You planning on marrying me?" Peter joked.

You smiled a bit and shook your head, "I just wanted to ask because someone proposed a while ago."

"Phew! I thought you were going to ask." Peter laughed. He put his arm around you and kissed the top of your head, "I'm happy with what we are now and I love you. I don't need to show other people that."

"I love you too, Pete." You said quietly.

You looked at Becca and said, "Me and Peter? Getting married? Um, no. I don't- I don't think so."

"What? Why not?" Becca furrowed her eyebrows. "Both of you have been together for so long! You guys should seal the deal now."

"Marriage isn't really Peter's thing." You explained.

"Is it your thing?" Becca asked and you sighed and nodded. "Then, tell him!"

"No way, Becca. He's just going to say the same shit he told me on our fourth anniversary." You said and fixed the papers on your desk.

"Maybe he changed his mind?" Becca suggested.

"Nope. I've known Peter for so long and one thing about him is that he never changes his mind, EVER. Once he says something, he just does it. His motto in life is literally 'practice what you preach'. Hence, not changing his mind." You let out an exasperated sigh.

"Look, Becca, I appreciate your concern and all, but it's not happening." You smiled sadly. "Don't worry about me and Peter, okay? Just worry about planning your wedding because that'll take up majority of your time."

For the rest of the day, you couldn't focus on curating at all. In fact, you nearly messed up some words. In truth, you haven't thought about marriage since your fourth anniversary and now that Becca's mentioned it, you couldn't get it out of your head.

It wasn't wise to contact Peter during his work hours because he dealt with clients who didn't know what to do with their money and stuff. He also didn't want to be bothered while he was at work. Besides, it gave you both something to talk about at dinner.

When you got home, you did your night routine. You went to your room and got dressed in comfortable clothing. Knowing Peter was on his way home, you took out your phone and called him.

"Hey, honey." Peter answered. "I'm glad you called! Listen, don't cook anything. Relax and watch tv or something. I bought dinner for us from the restaurant where we met."

"What? That's so out of budget, Peter. We only eat there once a year and that's for our anniversary." You said in worry.

"Yeah, I know, but we really shouldn't worry about spending. I'm literally a financial advisor." Peter chuckled. "Also, I just got a raise."

"Wow!" You smiled. "Tell me all about it when you get home, alright? I don't want you getting in a car accident or something."

"Will do. See ya later!" Peter hang up. You looked down at your phone and sighed. You took Peter's advice and relaxed while waiting for him. You drew yourself a bath and got in. About thirty minutes later, you heard the front door open and Peter shouted, "I'm home! I brought food!"

You got out of the bath and drained the water in the tub. You dried yourself and put on your bathrobe before meeting Peter in the kitchen. He was setting the table and he smiled at you, "Hey beautiful."

"Hey handsome." You chuckled. "Thanks for buying dinner. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome! It's no problem, really. It's a thank you for dealing with my shit and for cooking for me all the time. God knows I can't cook, so hopefully surprising you with food from the restaurant where we met is enough to make you happy." Peter said and walked up to you to pull you in for a hug.

You hugged back, "I do those things because I love you, Pete."

"I love you more." He kissed your forehead and urged you to sit down. Both of you sat down and Peter started talking about his raise and his client who didn't know what an insurance was. Everything was going swell, but you couldn't get the marriage thing off your mind.

"Becca's getting married." You blurted out. Peter stopped talking and looked at you. "She, uh, Heath asked her last night and she said yes."

Peter nodded and smiled, "Good for her! They've been together for so long now."

"Do you think we'd get married too?" You asked him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you think we'd get married too?" You repeated. "We've been together for seven years now and I think it's time for us to get married and start a family. We're not getting any younger, Pete. We're 27 years old for fuck's sake."

"Y/N, you know where I stand in marriage, right?" Peter said. "I'm not into that kind of shit. I thought we were on the same page?"

"No and I'm sorry!" You sighed. "I want to get married and I want to get married to you. Otherwise, I won't get married at all. I want us to move out of this apartment and buy a house where our kids can run around and play."

"Then let's start a family!" Peter exclaimed.

"I want to do it right, Peter!" You argued. "I want us to get married first and then have as many kids as you fucking want. But first, I want to walk down the aisle and say my vows to you. I want that, Peter."

Peter looked at you and sighed, "Then maybe I'm not the guy that you're looking for. We obviously want different things and I can't give you what you want."

"Are you breaking up with me?" You asked in shock.

Peter nodded, "Yeah, I am. I can't be a husband and you deserve someone who can be. I'm sorry." With that, he stood up from his seat and went to your shared room to pack his things in a duffel bag. You stayed in the dining table with your head in your hands. You really didn't expect him to break up with you.

Peter walked out of your shared room and approached you. You looked at him and he bent down a bit to kiss you one last time before he left.

"I'm sorry things had to end this way." He mumbled. "I love you and I'll always love you for as long as I'll live. But I also want you to be happy and if getting married makes you happy, I'm willing to let you go just for that to happen."

"But I want to get married to YOU." You cried.

"In another life, I want to get married and I want to get married to you. But this is the life we have, okay? I'm still going to be here for you. So if you need me, I'll be staying at May's, alright?" He said sadly and kissed your forehead before leaving.

It had been three months since your split with Peter and everything has been going downhill for you. Becca was so into wedding planning and she kept asking you for help. As if things were not worse for you, your younger sister recently got engaged too. Some of your Facebook friends were either on their honeymoon, having their first baby, or walking down the aisle already. It frustrated you BIG TIME.

To top it all off, your mom (who wasn't in the picture since forever) came back because she heard that your little sister was getting married and your dad had a heart attack. Thankfully, he was okay. He's just resting now.

You were at your childhood home and you were having a stressful time. You were taking care of your dad and no one was helping you around. Your little sister was busy planning her wedding and her husband-to-be was a slacker and he doesn't clean up after himself at all. Your mom was staying in the guest room and she was so demanding and she was such a picky eater and she nagged to you about how you should settle down now. You were so stressed and you were on the verge of a breakdown and all of a sudden, the A/C stopped working.

That set you off.

You locked yourself in your old room and just cried. You cried until you fell asleep. When you woke up, it was already the next day and you heard commotion downstairs. You walked to where the noise was coming from and it was coming from the living room; where the A/C was broken.

You peeked in and you were surprised to see Peter fixing the A/C. Your mom saw you and said, "Y/N! Good morning, sweetie. This is Peter. He fixed the A/C and guess what? He's single! Maybe-"

"Mom, Y/N knows who he is." Your sister rolled her eyes.

Peter held on to the ladder and looked at you. He saw your puffy eyes that were still slightly red and he saw bags under your eyes. He also knew that you were really tired.

"Really? How do they know each other?" Your mom gushed.

"They dated for 7 years. Let's just leave them alone. They need to talk, anyway." Your little sister said and gave you a small smile. She and your mom left the living room and Peter got down the ladder and walked to you.

"I'm, uh, sorry for coming here. You probably didn't want to see me, but Y/S/N gave me a call about the A/C. She asked if I could fix it because I was into, and I quote, 'machines or whatever'. So I came by and I really didn't expect you to be here." Peter said, but you just stared at him.

He cleared his throat, "Also, all the dishes were just left in the sink. I washed them all, though. I hope it's less work for you. The A/C's fixed now, by the way. If it breaks again, I suggest you just buy a new one. There's this brand that-"

You cut him off by giving him a big hug and you just cried. You were so tired and Peter hugged back tightly and said, "You're alright. You'll be fine."

"I missed you." You cried. "I missed you being by my side and the apartment feel so empty now that you're gone. I just want you back. Life was super easy with you in it."

"But-"

You pulled away and shook your head, "I don't care anymore. If you don't want to get married, I respect that. Let's just be partners for life, okay? I'll be fine with that just as long as I have you in my life; that's good enough for me."

"Okay." Peter nodded and smiled.

"Okay?" You asked.

"Okay." He chuckled lightly. "I love you."

"I love you too." You smiled and wiped your tears.

Peter's job was tiring. A few weeks after he had gotten back together with you, he was getting busier and busier. Today, his client asked him if they still had savings from when they got married. Peter was looking through the said client's files as the client kept talking.

"Why'd you get married?" Peter asked nonchalantly.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't want to get married." The client chuckled. "But life is funny. I met someone and for some reason, everything changed. Sure, we could've stayed as just long time partners, but being married takes it to a whole 'nother level, y'know?"

"In marriage, couples share things and they start a new chapter in their lives. Whereas if you're just living with your partner in an apartment, that's just it. It's hard to explain. It's similar to long time partners, but at the same time it's not." The client shrugged.

It was then and there that Peter understood marriage. He looked at the client and said, "I'll call you when I find your files, okay? I just remembered that I have to do something."

Peter got out of his seat and told the receptionist that was taking an early lunch break. He walked to his car and quickly unlocked the door and drove to the art museum where you worked.

When he got there, he parked his car and locked the door before running inside. He looked around and saw you curating a tour for grade school kids. He didn't want to bother you at work, but this was really urgent. So, he took a deep breath and walked right up to you.

"Y/N!" Peter said. You looked at him in shock. You turned to the kids and smiled, "Feel free to look at the painting, but don't touch anything."

You turned back to Peter and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I change my mind." Peter blurted out.

"What're you talking about?" You were confused.

"The whole marriage thing. I change my mind." He said. "Yes, marriage has a lot of shit, but I'll have you for the rest of my life and that's so rewarding. We can get married, buy a house, start a family, you name it! We've been together for 7 years- I'm not counting the three-month break up because I know that I still loved you during that time. I love you more than anything in the world and I want to show you that I love you for the rest of my life. So-"

He knelt down and your eyes widened.

"Oh my god. What're you doing?" You whispered.

"I think I'm proposing." Peter said quietly and he grabbed your hands. "Y/N, will you marry me? I know I don't have a ring right now, but that can wait. I-"

"Yes." You tear up. "Yes, I will marry you!"

Peter smiled and stood up to kiss you. Everyone around you clapped and you both pulled away. You rested your forehead on his and he said, "I have to go now. I have to get back to work and I have to buy you a ring."

"I love you, Peter."

"I love you, Y/N."

* * * *

im back lmao sorry if it's shit

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @harryismysunflower @buckys-little-hoe @sandystoriess @heeeyitskay @slytherin-chaser @quaksonhehe @yaya4302 @lil-mellow-bunbun @starlight-starks @swiftmind @alexx-stancati @sovereignparker @nerdyandproudofitsstuff @pearce14 @xfirstfemale-marauderx @cherthegoddess @chewymoustachio @cocoamoonmalfoy @parkerlovebot @supred12

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#peter parker #peter parker one shots #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker au #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

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Skin deep - Chapter One || B.H.

Synopsis: Billy survived the battle of Starcourt but is left with a body full of scars. Scars that remind him of the pain he had to go trough and the horrible person he has become. In order to forget about all of that and move on, he wants to get them covered up. Good thing Hawkins has a brand new Tattoo studio and the girl who works there might just be the help Billy has been looking for.

A/N: I needed a TattooArtist!Reader x Billy story so I wrote one and you know me, I can’t keep it short and simple. There will be several parts to this. Don’t ask me about an updating schedule because I don’t have one. I try my best to be consistent but I make no promises. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Billy’s palms are clammy as he steps out of his car. His eyes wander towards the sign hanging above the door, welcoming him to “Little Bear Tattoos” as an American traditional bear face grins back at him.

This isn’t his first time getting a tattoo, by all means, he shouldn’t be as nervous as he is. But things are different now. Everything is different. Things change after you almost die because you sacrificed yourself to an otherworldly creature to save a little girl.

He had just turned 18 when he got that stupid little skull inked onto his arm. That’s now just a little over a year ago but it seems like a lifetime has passed since then. Sometimes, Billy thinks, sometimes It feels like that was another person altogether. That dumb little boy who thought he knew shit. The one that paraded his tattoo around like a complete and utter douchebag. He thought it made him look rough and cool and dangerous.

In retrospect, it just made it more obvious that he didn’t know shit about anything. Not life. Not death. And most definitely not about what it means to look rough and cool and dangerous. Sometimes he wishes he could go back to that moment and just relish in ignorant bliss. Most of the time he tries not to think of the past though because thinking of the past means thinking of all the things lost that night in July. Most of all himself.

Back then, getting a tattoo was easy. Now, it feels like the entire world is resting on his shoulders. It feels like he can barely keep it all from crashing down on him.

The bell above the door chimes as he steps inside the tattoo parlor. It’s a relatively small shop but it looks clean and the walls are covered in framed drawings of very intricate designs. If those have been drawn by this place’s artist, he’s in good hands.

A fluffy little brown dog is lazily resting on a pillow by the shop window and only raises his head as the sound of footsteps approaching fills the room.

“ Hi, welcome to little bear. “ a cheery voice calls out to him as a girl steps out from behind a curtain leading to some backroom. She has a big radiant smile on her face though it exudes a certain warmth that only genuine smiles do.

“ Hi uh — I was wondering if you have a free spot. “

“ Hmm… that depends. What are you wanting to get? “

To be quite honest, he hadn’t really thought much about it. All he wanted was something to cover up the ugly scars still streaking most of his body. When before, he felt a certain kind of pride whenever he passed a mirror, now it sends a sharp pain straight to his heart. Everything about him, from the perpetually tired look in his eyes to the scars, it’s al a reminder of the bad things he’s done. And the worst part is that he can never talk to anyone about it. Ever. No one will understand but the people who’ve been there, and though he and Max are getting along much better now, he still doesn’t fancy having long profound conversations with her about his demons.

“ I uh — I’m not sure but it needs to cover something.”

“ Old tattoo? “

Billy swallows audibly “scars.”

He’s not sure what reaction he’s expected from her but a casual “Okay, we can figure something out. “ is not it. Though he avoids wearing short sleeves these days, whenever someone manages to catch a glimpse of his damaged skin he got 1 of two reactions. Either people started regarding him with pity or disgust and he honestly wasn’t sure which was worse. At least those disgusted by him left him well enough alone and didn’t hold a million questions they expected him to answer in great detail.

“ Let’s sit down and we can talk about some things you like and see how we can incorporate those into a tattoo. Also, I would have to take a look at the area you want me to tattoo and see how bad the scarring is just so I can take that into consideration when designing the piece. Scar tissue is harder to tattoo but don’t worry, I promise I can do it. “

“ You’re gonna be tattooing me? “

It seems like a dumb question but honestly, Billy hasn’t met or seen that many female tattoo artists in his life and this girl seems to be about his age. That’s not something you see every day.

“ Yup. I’m (Y/N), this is my shop. Now, do you want something to drink while we discuss the piece? I got all kinds of sodas, I got water and I got non-alcoholic beer.

“ Dr. Pepper? “

“ Good choice. Coming right up. “

She walks behind the counter with the cash register and reaches into a small fridge taking out two cans of Dr. Pepper before leading him towards a little seating area by the window.

The fluffy little dog lifts his head once again regarding the two of them with only mild interest before plopping back down.

“ Oh, you okay with dogs? I can take him to another room if you’re uncomfortable. “

Billy shakes his head. Nah, he loves dogs. Always wanted one but Neil, being the miserable bastard he is, never allowed the kids to have any pets. Too much work, too much responsibility. What an asshole.

Though Billy is never going to admit it, the bedside drawer, that was once filled with issues of Penthouse magazine, now holds a bunch of self-help books and magazines dealing with topics of PTSD and trauma. A lot of them mention getting a support animal whether that be a specially trained dog or just a hamster to keep you company. It makes sense, it gives you someone who listens to you vent about all your problems and insecurities. If only his dad cared enough about his mental state to reconsider his stance on pets. Then again, when has Neil ever cared about him?

“Nah, it’s fine don’t worry. He’s cute.”

“Thanks. His name is Bear and he’s kind of the mascot of this store.”

There’s a twinkle of pride in her eyes while she talks about the shop and her dog. Something Billy is infinitely envious of. Everything he’s ever felt any hint of pride in is gone. His car. His looks. All of it.

“Okay so tell me a little about yourself. Is there anything you can think of that you’d like to get inked? Any interests, hobbies? Maybe you wanna tell me a little about yourself.”

Back before, when things were different, Billy would’ve packed as much ego enlarging words and compliments into it as possible. Would’ve mentioned his car and his most satisfactory performance skills in the bedroom. But now, he hardly knows who he is these days.

“ Um … my name is Billy. I’m 19, I’m from California. ‘Bout two years ago my dad packed us all up and had us move out here to the end of the world. Then … things happened.”

“You miss California?”

“Every day. The thought of going back one day is the only thing that keeps me fucking going. I miss the ocean. I miss surfing. I miss home. I miss all of it.”

She looks at him intensely for a moment, sizing him up, contemplating her next words. He can almost see the creative gears running in her head.

“Alright. I might have an idea. I’d have to see the area first though.”

He expects pity in her voice though there is none. Her words are comforting and warm and calm. Billy wonders how often she has to deal with clients like him. Those who come to her with painful and ugly reminders of their past.

His hands are shaking as he pulls off his denim jacket and reveals his left arm to her. The skin is streaked with scars. They’re the same paths that used to wind up and down his arm in inky black hues like poisonous vines. Now they’re a faded pink but that doesn’t mean he hates them any less.

Billy can feel his heart beating in a fast rhythm as anxiety floods his system. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe -

“Okay how big would you want to go,” (Y/N) asks, her voice gentle and soothing and her eyes switching from his arm to his eyes. She doesn’t ask him what happened and that’s a relief.

“As big as you can. I know you can’t make it disappear but I’d like as much of it covered as possible.”

“ I won’t be able to do an entire sleeve today but if that’s something you want we can start with a bigger piece on your upper arm today and then work our way to a full sleeve in the future?”

“Sounds good. I just want the scars gone. I need them covered.”

“Well my guy, you’ve come to the right place. It’s my specialty. You’re in luck too, I’m free all day so depending on your pain tolerance and the trauma of your skin, we might even be able to finish the first piece today.”

Pain tolerance, he wants to scoff at that. What he’s been through, the pain and the anguish and the emotional trauma, nothing will ever compare to that. Not even close. He’d get a 100 tattoos all at once and it still wouldn’t measure up.

“Alright, let’s do it.”

“Cool awesome! Imma go over to the drawing board and you can feel free to keep yourself entertained in the meantime. We have an arcade machine in the back. There’s records in the corner if you want to listen to some music. I’ll even let you choose.”

“Is that an honor?” Billy asks, a small smirk on his face. Every once in awhile a flicker of the person he used to be shines through. But then it’s gone and he’s left as this shadow of his former self.

“Oh you have no idea.”

As (Y/N) settles behind a big wooden table and starts scribbling away, Billy wanders over towards the corner of the studio. A bright red record player is resting on a sideboard surrounded by several boxes filled with vinyl records. They’re sorted by band name then chronologically. There’s all kinds of genres too. AC/DC and Judas Priest but also Stuff like The Mamas and the Papas and the Monkees.

“Anything, in particular, you wanna listen to? Kinda hard to make out your taste with this selection. There’s … everything.” Billy calls out to her, leaving through the records.

“What can I say? I like a bit of everything. Don’t like to limit myself.”

Old Billy would’ve raised his eyebrow and asked her if that extends to her love life as well. But old Billy is gone and so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I know it seems like just your kinda music, but maybe stay away from the hard rock. Maybe something a bit more mellow.”

He hasn’t really listened to a lot of music since … well since everything. He mostly sleeps or reads and sometimes when it’s a good day he even attempts to do a bit of writing. It’s nothing spectacular but it’s - something. An outlet really. The stories vary from an autobiographical retelling of the incident to silly tales of young boys going on space adventures. It's a way to get lost in the save parts of his mind. The ones that can create make-believe worlds and happy thoughts. Not the ones tainted with gruesome images of the past.

The opening notes the Monday Morning by Fleetwood Mac fill the air and Billy doesn’t miss the smile tugging on the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“Nice. Didn’t really think you were a Fleetwood Mac fan.”

Billy shrugs his shoulders casually “they’re a classic.”

He sits back down in the seat by the window, watches as the clouds pass the sky and the people go about their day. That’s until a furry little ball of fluff settles down in his lap and demands to be cuddled.

“Oh hey, you.”

“Sorry about that. Bear does not understand the concept of personal boundaries. He thinks everyone is only here to pet him. If he bothers you just set him down.”

But he doesn’t mind one bit. In fact, combing his fingers through the curly brown fur fills Billy with a sense of calm and it grounds him a little. He really needs to adopt a dog for himself.

“It’s fine. No bother.”

Time passes with Billy cuddling the dog and ever so often glancing over at (Y/N) while she’s working on the sketch. She’s drawing then erasing then redrawing. Copying then throwing it away then doing it all again. All the while she’s dancing along to the music. There’s a lightness about her that Billy wishes he could possess. Even before the Stacourt situation, he never had this unbothered lightness about him. That’s just not the person you turn into when you grow up in a house with Neil Hargrove.

A light drizzle falls outside and Stevie Nicks sings along to it and life feels … almost peaceful right then. Billy lives for these small moments of normality. These glimmers of what life used to be.

“Okay, I’m ready. Wanna have a look?”

There’s a bright smile on her face as she looks at him and waves the sketch around. “I think I nailed this one. I hope you’ll like it.“

Billy can see that she actually means it. It's not just a silly phrase she’s tagged onto her sentence. She’s genuinely nervous for him to see it.

Bear follows Billy as he walks toward the counter, a smiley (Y/N) watching their every move. There’s something about how passionate she is about her work that makes Billy both happy and sad. There used to be things in life that he was passionate about. His car. His clothes. The music he loved. Now it’s all dull and trivial and he’s lost. So damn lost.

His eyes wander towards the sheet of paper. Delicate black lines run across the page, swirling and arching and creating a beautiful composition. It’s a lighthouse. A tall and sturdy one. It shines it’s light out into the distance to guide the ships safely around the sharp edges of the cliffs. It’s a beacon of safety and hope surrounded by the rough sea and crashing waves.

“I thought it was a nice symbol, you know. Light in the dark. Guiding ships to safety.” (Y/N) explains. She’s biting her lip nervously and Billy thinks it’s insanely adorable. This piece is perfect, to think she’s uncertain and nervous about his reaction …

“I tried to incorporate the ocean and the crashing waves. You know, as a reminder of your life in California.”

Billy is speechless for a moment. Everything he wanted. All the ideas swirling around in his head. She put it down on paper, made them visible. And he didn’t even have to voice them. They were all just mushy gray clouds in his head, non forming a coherent picture. Just a feeling. A feeling of peace and belonging. Of being strong when everything around you tries to push you down to your knees.

“Do you like it? I can change it if you —“

“I love it!”

Her mood immediately changes after hearing those words. As if a switch is suddenly flipped and sunshine floods her face. Her eyes light up and her smile widens.

“Okay perfect! Wanna get started?”

“Sure, let’s do it!”

The black leather chair is soft underneath him as (Y/N) puts the stencil onto his skin. She has a soft gentle touch which only matches the tone of her voice. Very calming. A complete opposite to the rest of Billy’s life.

“Okay, so it’s not gonna be pleasant since I have to tattoo over scar tissue. If you wanna tap out or take a break just let me know.”

He’s fairly sure that whatever pain he’ll have to endure, it will be nothing compared to what he’s already been through. Pain has a completely different meaning to him now.

“I’ll be fine.”

And he means it. Not just about the tattoo, about everything. It feels like this is the first step into a new life. One that won’t be determined by his past mistakes. By the trauma.

The buzzing sound of the tattoo gun fills the air and (Y/N) starts pulling the first few lines. Short strokes. As if to test his pain tolerance. Her eyes wander up to meet his, a silent question shining through them.

He grants her a nod. One of pure determination. One that says, without question: “I’ll be fine!”

For a while, they sit in comfortable silence. There’s just the humming of the machine and the raspy voice of Stevie Nicks to lull them into a soft tranquility.

“ I’m not gonna ask about the scars but can I ask about the skull on the other arm?”

Billy lets out a mix between a laugh and a scoff. “Sins of my youth really.”

“ Oh geez, that makes you sound so old. You’re what, 19?”

“ Almost 20.”

“ See. You’re still in the prime of your youth!”

Billy shrugs his shoulder as she dips the tattoo gun back into the ink. Truthfully, it doesn’t feel like he’s in the middle of his youth. He feels so damn tired. He never got to be a kid. Never got to be a teen. Always wandering in between it all, lost and disillusioned with no one there to guide or help him.

“ How old are you?”

“ Just turned 20 a few days ago.”

“And you already have your own shop. That’s impressive.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I ever wanted to be. Worked my ass off. Spent all my free time at my cousin's tattoo studio up in Carmel. He taught me everything I know. Worked after school and on the weekends and then when I graduated my cousin gave me a little loan and I had enough to open the shop. He believed in me when no one else did and it means everything to me. Hope I make him proud. I just always felt like this is what I'm meant to be. An artist. And this way my art gets immortalized on people’s skin and in some cases it can help them overcome difficult times in their lives. I hope I can make even the smallest change in people’s lives. “

It doesn’t get lost on him, that she doesn’t mention her parents. Something must be up there but it sure as hell isn’t his place to ask about it. Families, he knows quite well, can be a touchy subject.

“Well, you’re definitely making a change in mine.”

“Yeah?”

She looks almost bashful as the question tumble from her lips.

“Yup. I … I need to make those scars disappear. They — they remind me of the worst time in my life and of a version of myself I never want to be again. Having you cover them for me with this art piece that’s so fucking cool, it means everything.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“You should be proud of yourself.”

There’s a connection there, one he can neither grasp nor explain. It’s like she understands parts of him he doesn’t even put on display. And it’s both scary and exciting. And maybe, he understands parts of her she’s not aware she’s putting on display either.

“Okay. I’m done!”

There’s an infinite sense of pride exuding from her words. Billy wishes there was something in his life that he was good at. Something to let him be proud of himself.

“Wanna take a look?” (Y/N) asks with the most radiant smile playing on her face.

“Absolutely!”

His legs are stiff from sitting in the chair for so long but he can’t wait to see the finished piece. Slowly he walks towards the full-length mirror, (Y/N) hot on his heels.

His eyes fall onto the artwork now permanently inked into his skin. There are vibrant shades of blue and dark black lines. The sea is alive, it’s unforgiving and rough. But there’s the light from the lighthouse, the hope, the safety. It’s all there’s and it’s beautiful. Where there used to be ugly pink scars thick and burning, there’s now a beautiful painting. The scars are gone. The pain is gone. All that’s left is beauty and hope.

He doesn’t realize that tears are running down his cheek until she hands him a tissue. His first reaction is to wipe them away and pretend they weren’t there in the first place. A Hargrove man isn’t allowed to cry. Not in front of people anyway. Especially not in front of women. Hargrove men are bitter and numb. They’re stoic. Silent. Angry. Above all they’re sad.

But isn’t that the person he wants to leave behind?

So he lets himself feel it. Lets the tears fall as if it were nothing.

Maybe this can be the next step into becoming the person he wishes so desperately he can be.

“I take it you like it?”

“I love it.”

And he hugs her. Pulls her close and tight as if he’s known her forever. She reciprocates the hug in no time. Softly oats him on the shoulder.

She smells like flowery perfume and clean cotton. Soft. Sweet. Intoxicating

“I can not thank you enough.”

“Billy, trust me this means as much to me as it does to you.”

He doesn’t disagree with her but he’s sure that’s not true. It means everything to him.

They talk for a little longer then he pays her, way too little if you ask him. She deserves way more and he suspects that some kind of personal sympathy plays into the price. But he’s not one to argue. Not when he’s sure he’ll come back. There are more scars. More pain. He’s not fixed but he’s at least a work in progress now.

She takes a few Polaroids of his tattoo, to put on her wall. To show people she can cover scars. Can help them. Help fix them. Make them feel less broken.

“They’re burn scars.”

Billy finds himself sharing a piece of his story. One he’s kept so close to him, sometimes he almost wondered if it was true. But it is. And there are more reminders all over his body. It feels right to share it though. She helped him cover part of it, without judging. Without questions. She deserves to know.

“Huh?”

“My scars. They are burn scars. Not — not from the outside but from the inside. Like fire going through my veins. I uh don’t know how to explain but that’s what they are. You can tell that to your clients. That you covered burn scars. That you’re that talented. “

For a moment she just stares at him, a deep sense of affection shining from her eyes. It’s comforting and nerve-wracking all at once. But he lets himself feel it. He promises himself to let himself feel the good things even if they seem scary.

“That’s … hey, would you like to grab some dinner with me? I could really go for a burger at the diner round here. It’s real good. “

And with the way she smiles, how the hell is he supposed to say no to that.

“Sounds good to me. Lead the way!”

The sun hangs low above the horizon almost dips behind the line to vanish and make room for the moon but not quite yet. They step out into the dawn, Bear pattering alongside them his leash grabbed tightly in (Y/N) hand.

As hues of red and pink and orange surround them and dip the world into a golden haze, Billy feels like maybe this is the way. Maybe this is his path leading into a new future. With less pain. Fewer scars. More color and more smiles.

And maybe a beautiful and talented girl and a little dog by his side.

#billy hargrove x reader #Billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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