#and they taking fucking ages to answer 1 stupid email

[callmemajo]

I hate this fucking country so much

[bubblesuga]

Turning Page - Part 1

Summary: Sometimes you find yourself in the right place at the right time and unknowingly, you fall in love. Min Yoongi certainly didn’t expect that when he met eyes with you one fateful night in late July. Nor did he expect to end up naked in your apartment while you drew his body.

w/c: 7,302 genre: struggling producer!yoongi au, new relationship, fluff, smut warnings: oral (m receiving), dom!yoongi, switch!reader, raw sex, spanking, reader has a praise kink, yoongi has a dirty mouth (but lets be honest, what else is new?), slight exhibitionism, jungkook is too nosy for his own good

It’s not often that you find yourself at a 24 hour diner in the middle of the night with an insane amount of papers splayed out in front of you as eat your waffles while answering emails and trying your hardest to copy the manuscripts sent to you but for some god-awful reason it’s happened to you on more than one occasion this week alone. 

The manuscript, which the author unabashedly decided to hand write instead of type in this day and age, was way too long and had way too much detail. Unfortunately for you, your boss only reads typed manuscripts and insisted that you copy every word and type it for her by Monday. You know for a fact that your boss is going to get three chapters into this absolute mess of a story and toss it but you have no choice but to listen to her. 

This is definitely not how you expected being an intern to go yet here you are, wondering and waiting for the day that you can move on and start your own company like you’ve wanted to for practically your entire life. 

“Can I get you a refill on your coffee?” A voice asks, and you glance up to see the waitress, an older woman with a smile that could light up a thousand suns. 

“Yes please,” you smile, holding out your mug to her as she pours directly from the pot, “thank you.” 

“No problem, I always see you working so hard so I figured you could use the energy boost.” she grins, patting your shoulder lightly as she begins to walk away and help the other few tables which also happen to be hosting tired college students and early risers or late sleepers. 

Without even realizing it, another half hour passes by you quickly. Your eyes burn, but you count the remaining pages and try to push through. Quickly though, your ears spot the sound of dishes clanking together and you can’t help but pull your attention in that direction. 

A man with blond hair and dark eyes is cleaning the table in front of you. He adorns an apron around his waist and a white t-shirt with black pants. The busboy wipes down the table, and you admire his side profile as he does so. His features are soft, a rounded nose and down-turned lips held almost in a pout. You have never come across a man so stunningly beautiful, it nearly causes your breath to be caught in your throat. 

You’re staring for so long that the man catches on to your watchful eye, glancing over in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You smile sheepishly, “Sorry.” 

The man smirks, shaking his head before hauling the bin of empty cups and plates towards the kitchen. Your heart sinks for a moment, but you shake the feeling to the best of your ability and try to finish typing. 

A few more moments pass, and you hear someone sitting across from you. You glance up and see the man sat across from you, apron gone and a black jacket now covering his torso. 

“Can I help you?” You question softly, clasping your hands together atop the table. 

He bites his bottom lip, “I feel like I should be asking you the same thing.” 

“Pardon?” 

“You were watching me earlier, just curious what was on your mind was all.” He shrugs, his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets. 

You swallow, the way his eyes scan you causes your face to flush. Carefully, you stack up your papers and clean the table slightly while you try to think a way to dance around the answer to his question. He waits patiently, which only causes you to panic internally. 

“I was thinking that you would be nice to draw.” you finally settle on, and it’s true. He looks like a work of art, and you’d love to have had him as a model in your art class when you went to college. 

He doesn’t seem to expect that answer, his eyes widening slightly as his head tilts, “So draw me.” 

“Ah,” you immediately wave your hand dismissively, “I haven’t drawn in a couple years and I was never any good at it anyway.” 

He leans forward, mirroring your position from earlier, “But if that was your first thought then surely you still have an interest in it.” The smooth cadence of his tone intimidates you to no end, yet it entices you and pulls you in even more. How can a stranger hold so much power over you?

“I’ll tell you what,” you say after a moment, suddenly gaining a brush of confidence when you see a twinkle in his eye, “you come to my apartment tomorrow night and I’ll draw you.” 

“That sounds like a trap to murder me.” He remarks, a gummy grin stretching across his face and you have to hold back a small ‘awe’, your chest twisting at the sight. 

“You want to get drawn or not?” you bite back, just as teasingly. 

He shakes his head, a small chuckle leaving his pink lips, “Give me your phone.” 

You raise an eyebrow, reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone. You unlock it for him and he takes it immediately, keeping the screen just far enough away from you that you can’t see what he’s doing. Soon enough, he stands abruptly and sets your phone down onto the table.

He smirks, “Text me the address, I’ll be there.” 

The stranger wanders down the isle and towards the front door, and you watch in awe at his broad shoulders and shapely figure. Something about the way he carried himself made your mouth water. 

Breaking out of your trance, you quickly unlock your phone and and see a newly added contact. At the top of the screen is a simple ‘Yoongi ;)’ titling the contact. 

You blush, gnawing your bottom lip gently as he passes by the window and sends a wink your way.

~*~*~

He’s going to be here any moment. He’s going to walk through your door with his stupid fucking smirk and attractive eyes and he’s going to be in your living room, posing for a while so you can draw him. 

And you’re freaking out. 

After he left you immediately sent him your address, and since then the two of you have been talking non stop. It was mostly about small things, jobs, favorite foods and favorite colors... Although it may have only been a day, you feel like you know him pretty well. He’s funny and charismatic and oh so charming, no wonder you were so drawn in to his beauty because he’s gorgeous from the inside out. 

You haphazardly through your jackets and shoes into the closet by the front door, only recently becoming aware of how much clothes you leave strewn throughout your home. 

Just as you light a cinnamon scented candle in the center of the room, your doorbell rings. 

You rush over to the door and glance in the mirror to fluff your hair and wipe away any runny make up. Exhaling a deep breath, you open the door and greet Yoongi with a smile. 

“Hello.” you say simply, opening the door wider and motioning for Yoongi to come in. He’s dressed in a black button up and tight fitting black jeans, a stark contrast to his work attire. He carries with him a back pack and a bottle of whiskey. 

He notices the way you eye the bottle, and he flushes slightly, “I figured it could help with your nerves. A- and mine, because I’m a little nervous as well.” 

“Nervous?” you trudge into your living room with Yoongi following closely behind, “why are you nervous?” 

“Well, I’m not exactly sure if you expected this to be a nude drawing or not so I wore nice clothes but I’m also willing to take them off.” He scratches the bottom of his chin, watching as you set up the easel. 

You pause your movements, eyes widening, “N- nude?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, twisting open the bottle of whiskey, “isn’t that what you do in those fancy art classes? Draw nude people?” 

“I- I mean, we did,” you stutter, your throat going dry, “but they were always women because I went to an all female college.” 

“Ah, so you could use the practice,” he grins confidently, but it drops suddenly, “unless you’re uncomfortable with that. Then, fully clothed is fine with me.” 

The thought of being able to see the gorgeous man nude excited you more than you’d like to admit, and seeing as you two were in the safety and comfort of your own home, you had no problem with him doing it so long as he wanted to, and by the way his fingers are itching to undo the first button of his shirt, you figure he is. 

“Go ahead. You’re right, I can use the practice.” 

Yoongi smiles and with trembling fingers he begins to take his clothes off. As he does so, you focus on setting up the rest of your supplies. The charcoal set sits idly on the table beside you and you finally sit down with a sigh. 

As you turn your eyes back to Yoongi, you see that he is splayed across your couch with the bottle in hand. 

Holy fuck, his body is just as gorgeous as his face. He’s lean, but you can tell he definitely works out his arms and his legs are long, a pinkish tint holds itself to his skin and you’re unsure if he’s being shy or if the alcohol has already taken affect on him. Eventually you let your eyes land on his hips, his pelvis presenting itself neatly between his legs. It takes everything in you not to drop what you’re doing and let him fuck you into oblivion. 

“(Y/N)?” you hear, and you’re brought back to the current situation. Yoongi’s face holds a knowing smirk, and he leans forward to hand you the bottle of whiskey. 

You take it gratefully, your heart thudding harshly in your chest as you take a sip. 

“Is this position okay?” he questions, one leg bent at the knee and resting on the other one. His right arm rests extended on the back of the couch while his left hand plays dangerously close to his pelvis. 

“Y- yes.” you breathe, picking up your pencil and beginning the sketch. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get the basic sketch down, your love for drawing coming back in droves as Yoongi sits silently, watching your face as you continue to sketch across the paper. He smiles, your nose crinkling before you erase a line or your tongue poking out as your concentrating on a specific area. 

After a little bit of silence, you speak up, “Do you want me to draw, uhm,” you pause your sentence and gesture towards his hips, to which he responds with a little laugh. 

“My cock?” 

His use of the word shocks you a little bit, but you silently remind yourself that you are a grown woman and are completely capable of listening to a man talk about his anatomy, even when you’re immensely attracted to him and have to continually swallow the drool that threatens to fall from your mouth. 

“Yeah, your- your cock.” you nearly whisper, noticing the way his cock twitches slightly at your voice. 

Okay, he’s getting just as much enjoyment out of this as I am. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, shifting a few inches, “I want you to draw my cock.” 

You nod, turning back to your drawing and beginning the last details. 

Yoongi doesn’t take his attention away from your face, gauging your reaction to his body. He likes the way you’re so attentive, and it’s taking everything in him not to harden, though he’s unsure how much longer he can hold off. 

His mind reels with the possibility of you riding him right on this couch. After spotting you at the restaurant he knew that he wanted you. It’s been far too long since he’s had sex, and his pickiness has become more and more evident, especially to his roommates. However, the moment he saw you, he could nearly imagine the way you would feel around him and when he saw you staring he knew that he was in the clear to come over and talk to you. 

This definitely wasn’t how he expected it to turn out but he has no complaints. 

“I’m almost done,” you murmur, your brow furrowed in concentration, “you can move now. All I have to do is shade a little.” 

Yoongi lets out a small breath, his fingers dancing across his hip bone as he lays comfortably on his back, “Do you need me to get dressed now?” 

You glance up, your face mostly hidden by the sketch pad, “If you would like to.” 

Slight disappointment hits Yoongi as he realizes that he’s not going to be able to touch you today. He sits up and reaches for his boxers, but you stop him. 

“Or you could give me a minute and I’ll undress too.” you say casually, shrugging as you pick up a black pen and sign the bottom of the drawing.

Yoongi’s jaw drops, and there’s no stopping it now. He instantly feels blood rush to his cock and watches intently while you spin the easel around and show him your work of art. 

Across the page, Yoongi sees himself displayed and detail lining every area of the sketch. He notices the way his eyes twinkle even in the drawing and if there were ever a time to think of himself as attractive, it would be now that he’s been drawn by you. 

“Do you like it?” you ask nervously.

Yoongi grins, “I love it.” 

“Good,” you whisper, and you stand up. You take a careful step over to him, and Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes away from you. As you’re about to slip your shirt over your head, he stops you. 

“Let me, please.” he begs gently, and you nod. He stands up quickly and hooks his fingers around the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms and allow him to slip the material over your head. His movements are slow, tantalizing and teasing you but also drawing you into him. 

He places his hand against your side, drawing small circles before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

It lasts no more than a few seconds, but you instantly miss the contact. He smiles, his nose crinkling as he does so and your heart can be heard from inside your chest, singing as he looks you in the eyes. He unhooks your bra, tossing it to the side and suddenly his lips are back on yours. 

It’s much more feverish than before, the taste of the whiskey and his strawberry flavored lip balm mix together on your tongue. The combination is harmonious, and he tastes exactly like you thought he would. 

Suddenly, he grips your shorts and pants, slipping them down your legs and softly commanding you to step out of them. You steady yourself on his shoulders and do as he says, your legs trembling with anticipation. 

“Last chance to back out of this if you don’t want it.” Yoongi says, his hands cupping your jaw and using his thumb to swipe gently at your cheek. You smile, “I want this.” 

He nods, “On your knees.” 

You instantly listen, dropping to your knees in front of him and licking your lips hungrily at now being eye level with Yoongi’s now hard cock. He smirks, “You can touch.” 

You nod hesitantly, then reach forward and pump him up and down a few times. Instantly, Yoongi’s head falls backward and a moan falls from his lips, gloriously loud and deep. 

The sound sends tingles straight to your heat, and you tentatively stick your tongue out to lick the tip of his member. His hips flex and you open your mouth automatically to accept him into your mouth. He goes a little further than expected and you gag as you feel him hit the back of your throat. 

“’M sorry,” he moans, “fuck your throat feels so good.” 

He looked heavenly, sweat begins to line his forehead as you use your tongue on the underside of his cock, paying special attention to the pulsating vein. 

His hands gather your hair up in his hands, “There we go, wanna see your pretty face as you suck my cock.” 

Fuck. 

You take him as deep into your mouth as you possibly can and hold him there, moaning at his dirty mouth and feeling yourself grow wetter by the second. 

“Good girl,” he feels your hands begin to roam his torso, his muscles flexing beneath his fingertips, “gonna cum.” 

With that, you pop off of him and see his eyes fall to you incredulously. “I was gonna-” 

“I know,” you grin, “but wouldn’t it feel better inside of me?” 

“You are so fucking hot.” he says, pulling you up to his level and slamming his lips to yours. You tug him down as you fall onto the couch, his cock brushing ever-so-lightly between your legs and causing both of you to gasp. 

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to line himself up at your entrance, your legs wrapped carefully around his waist and guiding him in slowly. Yoongi watches the way your eyes roll backwards as he bottoms out, a moan falling from his lips as he steadies himself.

He had never felt as much pleasure than in this moment. 

The eroticism of the entire situation made everything feel more sensual. Despite barely knowing him, you felt a connection to him stronger than anyone ever before. The way his cock seems to fit perfectly within you, stroking and massaging your velvety walls, immediately has you reeling beneath him. 

“I’m not gonna last very long,” Yoongi starts, his arms shaking as he holds himself above you, “what can I do to help you out?” 

“That’s okay, just fuck me.” You gasp.

You feel him reach a point inside you that sends waves through your body, your back arching off the couch. Yoongi catches the way your breathing has grown ragged, and reaches his hand between the two of you. 

His thumb manages to find your clit, collecting your wetness and rubbing over it gently. His thrusts stay slow and steady, but even so you’re unable to hold back. As your orgasm approaches, you bring Yoongi down to your mouth and feel the way he nibbles at your bottom lip. Suddenly, he speeds his thrusts up and his thumb swipes fast and sloppy circles across your clit. 

You feel your breath catch in your throat as your orgasm washes over you, a mewl of content leaving your mouth as Yoongi soon follows after, strings of hot cum coating your walls and adding to the sensitivity of your heat. 

He collapses on top of you, his lips peppering kisses across your exposed chest while your hand caresses his hair. 

“I would have been able to last longer if you weren’t so fucking good at giving head.” Yoongi nearly whines, his chest heaving while he attempts to catch his breath. 

“It’s okay,” you smile, pushing his hair back and exposing his forehead, “we both got there in the end.” 

Yoongi shrugs, making no effort to move off of you as he buries himself in your chest, “If you hadn’t, I would have no problem making you cum on my tongue.” His words are slightly muffled by your breasts which only causes you to giggle. 

“Hm, I’m open to experiencing that on another day,” his lips turn up against your skin at your words, “but can I give you some pointers?” 

Yoongi’s head pops up, his eyes looking at you incredulously, “you just said that we both got there in the end, what more do I need to do?” 

“Be louder,” you whisper, his tone teasing, “I like when a man is vocal.” 

His eyes glare jokingly, “Okay, you’re on. I’ll be as loud as you want.” 

You giggle, pressing a light kiss to his nose and watching the way his face scrunch up at the contact. 

His chin rests on you, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “I like you a lot.” 

“Are you basing this solely off of the fact that I made you cum?” 

“That plays a part in it,” he chuckles, “but I want to see you again for sure. You seem cool, and I’d really like to take you out to dinner some time.” 

“Ah,” you click your tongue, “we did it backwards.” 

Yoongi laughs, a melodic sound that instantly makes your heart speed up. 

The two of you lay there for a little bit, your hand stroking his hair as you talk about the most mundane tasks. He tells you a little bit about his job, how his friend owns the diner the two of you met at and Yoongi likes to help out every once in a while for some extra cash. 

His real passion lies in music, which is why he was so hellbent to see you make art again. He loves encouraging people to create, to take charge and express themselves in the purest forms. 

After what seems like hours, Yoongi hears his phone ding. With a groan of disapproval, he climbs off of you and reaches into his jeans for his phone. 

You situate yourself on your side, watching the way Yoongi runs a hand through his messy hair and checks his phone. 

“Seokjin wants me to come serve tonight,” he says with a sigh, “I’ll text you after I get off, yeah?” 

You nod, “I need to finish up some work anyway.”

Silently, Yoongi begins to dress himself for the first time since he entered your apartment. You pout visibly as he slips his boxers back on, standing up and following suit by dressing yourself as well. 

As soon as you’re both dressed, you carefully tear Yoongi’s drawing out of the sketch pad and reach out to hand it to him.

“You’re giving it to me?” He questions, taking it with a raised eyebrow. 

You nod, “I don’t feel right in keeping it.” 

He shakes his head, “You should keep it for a rainy day.” 

Your eyes turn to slits while you inspect the drawing. You quietly slip it back into the sketchbook while Yoongi lets out another laugh. 

You lead him back to the front door, your arms crossed over your chest. Different from previous hook ups, you didn’t feel dirty after everything that you did. Instead, you felt comforted by the fact that he didn’t just leave as soon as he finished. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to take care of you and that wasn’t something you came across often. 

As he shuts the door behind him, you can’t help but touch your lips while you remember the feeling of his. 

~*~*~

“Hey Seokjin,” Yoongi greets as he enters the diner through the back door. 

Seokjin flips some sauteed vegetables in a pan and glances over at his younger friend, “Hey Yoon-” he pauses, setting down the pan, “you got laid didn’t you?” 

Yoongi throws his head back, muttering a small ‘damn it’ knowing that he’s going to get grilled until Seokjin is happy with the amount of details he’s received. 

“Yeah I did.” he sighs. 

“Hm, well you don’t seem too happy about it. Was she awful or something?” 

Yoongi whips his head towards Seokjin, “What? No, god no. She was fantastic.” 

“Then why the long face?” 

“Because I had to leave her to come help you.” Yoongi shrugs, chuckling when he feels Seokjin shove him lightly. 

Shaking his head, Seokjin plates up the food while he talks to Yoongi, “Was it the cute editor you were talking about last night?” 

Yoongi feels a twinge of jealousy hit his chest when he hears Seokjin saw you too, but it’s quickly replaced with triumph once he realizes that he got to you first. 

“She’s an intern, not an editor quite yet, but yeah that’s her.” 

“Good man,” he praises, “does that mean you’re back on your game?” 

Yoongi scoffs, “Just because I fuck one girl doesn’t mean I’m immediately going to try and fuck every girl I’m attracted to again.” 

Sure, Yoongi admits he went through a phase of... being well known. Especially in college, Yoongi was known to be a man of many special talents. After a while of random hook ups and making girls scream his name, he lost interest. He assumed it was because he got bored of it, but now he’s realizing that he was much more interested in having a relationship. Ever since he realized that, he had been waiting for someone to fall into his lap. 

For some reason, the moment he saw you he felt some indescribable feeling that drew him to you. Like all that waiting had finally paid off and he needed to talk to the girl with laser focus and a cute smile. 

“Oh, so you like this girl?” Seokjin says, glancing at the screen as another order comes in. 

“Yeah, a lot. She’s an artist.” He grins, calling back from the locker room connected to the kitchen. 

“Awe, did she draw you a picture?” Seokjin coos, a loud laugh following his teasing words. 

Yoongi’s cheeks blush as he suddenly flashes back to the events of today, “Yeah, you could say that.” 

Seokjin glances into the locker room, “I’ll question further later, for now you need to go to section A and help out Hwasa because she is drowning in tickets.” 

“Yes sir!” Yoongi mocks a salute, walking out to the dining area. 

~*~*~

From: Yoongi (received 16:34)

Be ready in 20.  Dress comfortably.

Your jaw drops as you stare at your phone, rushing upward from your position on your couch with a bag of chips and blankets surrounding you. 

You glance your at your reflection in passing and practically run to the bathroom to comb your hair. 

It’s only been two weeks since the two of you met. Your comforted by the fact that your phone always has a good morning text and a good night text from Yoongi. The two of you have yet to have a dry conversation and even if Yoongi is stuck at work or working on one of his secret projects, he makes sure to send a text that he’ll respond as soon as he has the chance. 

Previously you had never had someone so attentive, especially even in just the talking stages. At one point he called you, his voice rough and laced with sleep but the entire time he seemed lively and excited to talk to you. Your heart swelled with adoration the entire time and you’re safe in thinking that Yoongi feels the same. 

Because you haven’t seen Yoongi since the day you drew him, you find yourself regularly looking at the drawing. 

For the first time in what seems like years, you felt proud of something you had created. A constant rut that collapsed in on you like a black hole, drowning you in a state of constant despair, disappeared in half a day. Since then, you’re brain is reeling with creative thought and you couldn’t wait to show Yoongi what you’ve been drawing in your free time. He encourages you in a way that makes you feel like you can be whatever you want to be. 

One thing you were most proud of was your self-portrait. Your legs laid spread in front of a mirror for hours while you tried to perfect a drawing for Yoongi, to give back since he allowed you to keep his. 

“Why do all my cute bras disappear when I need them most?” you whine outwardly, your phone dinging again. 

From Yoongi (received 16:48) 

Oops, I’m early. 

You smile. 

To Yoongi (sent 16:49) 

You’re lucky you’re cute Be out soon

Quickly, you slip on a simple blue laced bra and t-shirt with a red skirt. Hoping that you were still cute in your comfortable clothes, you let out a nervous breath and head to the door. You grab your sketch book before you lock your door, Yoongi’s car parked at the end of the breezeway. You spot him before he spots you, a black beanie adorned on his head with his gorgeous blond hair peaking out beneath. 

You open his door and Yoongi immediately puts his phone away, “Hey.” 

“Hi.” You greet, slipping your sketchbook into the back seat. Yoongi leans over the center console and holds your face in his hand, and he kisses you. 

It’s short and sweet, not as feverish as the first one you shared but it made you realize how quickly you had fallen victim to missing his kiss. 

“I have wanted to do that for weeks now.” He states as if he read your mind, his eyes closed in bliss. 

“Why’d it take you so long then?” You tease, kissing him again. 

Yoongi smirks, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” 

“Does that mean you’re fonder of me?” 

He watches you pull the seat belt over your torso before he responds, “Definitely, I was thinking about you last night before I went to bed.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Oh?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, a hand moving over to rest on your knee while he backs out of the parking spot, “you’re very talented with your tongue, even in my dreams.” 

You don’t respond, instead you look down at his hand on your knee with a blush.

The drive consists of soft music playing of the speakers of Yoongi’s 2003 Kia. A choice of car you wouldn’t expect him to drive but it oddly fits his personality. It’s quiet and gets him just where he needs to be, a simple thing that Yoongi tells you he takes pride in. 

It isn’t a long drive, but you take the time to admire the way Yoongi looks as he drives. The windows are rolled down and soft summer air breezes throughout the car while you drive across the countryside. The evening sun shines across Yoongi’s face, those soft facial features that drew you in still prominent, his nose curling upward while he laughs at a joke you told. 

“Alright,” he says after about 15 minutes, “we’re here.” 

Yoongi parks near a beach, where you spot a group of people around a fire. You tilt your head, “Are we meeting your friends?” 

“Yeah, I hope that’s okay. It’s just a small get together to celebrate a friend’s promotion.” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck and lets out a nervous chuckle. 

You survey the crowd, cases of soju surrounding them while they laugh among each other. One of them seems to spot the car, waving at the two of you enthusiastically. 

Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, “Sure, I’d love to meet your friends.” 

Yoongi rushes to the other side of the car to open your door for you, wrapping his arm comfortingly around your shoulder while he leads you to the group. 

A log was left empty that had just enough room for the two of you. As you approach, Yoongi calls out, “Shut up everybody! This is (Y/N), be nice to her. I like her a lot,” instantly everyone quiets down, and Yoongi points to the tallest first man, “That’s Namjoon, Seokjin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin.” 

“Hyung, why’d you say my name last?” Jimin pouts, his voice already slightly slurred. You giggle, following Yoongi to the log. 

Namjoon reaches over, sticking his hand out, “It’s nice to meet the girl that Yoongi’s mentioned.” 

“Mentioned?” Jungkook scoffs, “He doesn’t shut up about you. You’re all he ever talks about and it takes a lot to get this man to stop talking about music.” 

Yoongi leans over and smacks his friend on the arm, his cheeks turning red at his admission. 

You giggle, “If it’s any consolation, I talk about Yoongi all the time too.” 

“Ah great, they’re both crazy about each other.” Seokjin jokes, a laugh unlike you had ever heard falling from his lips. His laugh causes you to laugh, and you quickly cover your mouth once you realize what you did. 

“Yah! She’s already making fun of my laugh!” Seokjin remarks, his bottom lip jutting outward cutely while Jimin shakes his head. 

“Take this and shut up.” Jimin reaches a drink out to Seokjin, who laughs and sends a wink your way to ease your mind. 

The night continues on gleefully, exchanging stories among each other and getting to know Yoongi’s friends - and Yoongi - more and more. 

At one point you could tell that Yoongi’s friends were grilling you in an attempt to see if you were a bad person. They were quite bad at it, though, seeing as Jungkook asked if you had ever killed a man and Taehyung was hellbent on trying to get you to say you liked country music. Though, you did admit that Carrie Underwood had a few good songs. Taehyung took this as a win and threw his hands up in victory while Namjoon told him to settle down. 

Now that you were more than a few drinks in, you listened intently to every story that the boys were telling. 

"Just wait until you hear about Yoongi’s parenting diary for Holly.” Hoseok spills, laughing so hard that he leans into Jimin who sits beside him. Jimin eyes disappear behind his smile, and everyone begins to chuckle. 

“No way!” you gape, turning to look at Yoongi who holds a beer tightly in his left and draws circles in your back with his right, “Min Yoongi, you never told me you were such a softy.” 

“I’m not a softy, I’m mean and scary,” Yoongi retaliates loudly, then he leans closer to your ear and whispers, “and I bite.” 

A chill runs down your spine and you immediately turn away, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to conceal your chill. Yoongi chuckles low enough for you to hear, his fingertips reaching beneath the base of your shirt and massaging gently. You didn’t realize how rough his fingertips were, callouses from hours of guitar playing evident on his hands. 

“Alright, children. I think it’s time for us to head out.” Yoongi says suddenly, interrupting a conversation between Hoseok and Namjoon. 

He stands and pulls you up with him. You smile and wave, “It was nice meeting you all.” 

“It was nice meeting you too,” Namjoon waves back to you, “excited to have you back around.” 

As you say goodbye to the rest and walk away, you hear a patter of footsteps walking behind the two of you. “Hyung! Can I get a ride?” 

Jungkook stumbles towards the two of you, and Yoongi glances at you in question. You shrug, “I don’t mind, it’s your car.” 

Yoongi waves Jungkook over, the three of you walking towards Yoongi’s small car. Yoongi opens the door for you, bowing gently and humming while he walks over to the drivers side. In the few short seconds that you and Jungkook were alone in the car, Jungkook leans forward and rests his head on the back of Yoongi’s seat. 

“I haven’t seen Yoongi this happy in a while,” he pats your shoulder, “thank you.” 

You don’t get the opportunity to respond as Yoongi opens the car door and hops in. You swallow, smiling and biting your lip. Your chest swells with the thought that Yoongi is just as affected by you as you are by him. 

The drive is quite, but suddenly Jungkook speaks up. 

“Is this yours, (Y/N)?”

You turn your head back and instantly your eyes widen, Jungkook glancing through your sketchpad. You spot the edge of your Yoongi drawing sticking out, Yoongi’s face visible but Jungkook had yet to spot it. 

“Y- yeah.” you say, praying that he stops flipping through the pages. Yoongi glances over to you, his eyes just as wide as yours. He simply shakes his head as if to say ‘stop him’. 

“These are really goo- oh! You drew Yoongi!” Jungkook’s fingers begin to pull at the piece of paper which causes you to unhook your seat belt and take the entire sketchbook out of Jungkook’s hands. 

He seems lost for a second, “Can I see the Yoongi drawing?” 

“No!” you and Yoongi respond simultaneously, panic lacing both of your voices while Yoongi pulls into an unfamiliar neighborhood. 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “You two doing something freaky?” 

Yoongi coughs, “I was just a model for (Y/N) to practice with.” 

“A nude model?” Jungkook asks in a sing-song voice, noticing the way you glance at Yoongi.

“Cool it with the questions, Kookie.” Yoongi scolds gently. 

“Hey, I don’t judge. I posed nude for a sculpting class once, those girls got to look at my bits for hours and I’m sure they enjoyed it as much as you enjoyed looking at Yoongi’s-” 

“Wow would you look at that, we’re home! Get the fuck out of my car.” Yoongi turns around, gesturing for Jungkook to exit. Jungkook holds a smirk on his face, “Be safe.” 

As soon as Jungkook gets out of the car, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Yoongi rests his head on the steering wheel, laughing quietly to himself in both embarrassment and joy. 

“Why did you have that drawing in the sketchbook?” He questions as he reverses out of the driveway. 

You shrug, “I don’t know... I just wanted to show you what I’ve been working on since that day.” 

“Like what?”

“A self portrait.” you shrug, opening the sketchbook and flipping to the most recently filled in page. You hold it up so Yoongi can glance at it while he drives, but you didn’t expect his eyes to bulge out of his head while he slams on the breaks and pulls off to the side of the neighborhood road. 

Instantly, he reaches and takes the book from you, his eyes scanning over the drawing repeatedly. 

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

You smile gently, pointing your finger to your chest, “I drew my boobs more even than they actually are so I’m not that gorgeous.” 

Yoongi’s eyes turn to slits, “Well this is tainted now. How will I ever be able to hang this up when it’s not accurate to the real thing?” 

You giggle, pushing Yoongi’s shoulder gently. His joking tone diminishes once his eyes fall back on the drawing, the smile dropping from his face while his finger traces the curve of your hips. “Gorgeous...” he whispers again, “Fuck, I love this so much. Thank you.” 

He leans across the center console and presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

That’s just not enough, though. 

You slip the sketchpad out of his hands and close it, “You want to see the real thing?” 

Your lack of touch from Yoongi these past couple weeks didn’t seem to bother you but now that you have him alone, you want to jump his bones. 

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to nod, unhooking his seat belt and leaning his chair back a little bit. You grin, slipping the t-shirt over your head and pressing a harsh kiss against Yoongi’s lips. He welcomes your lips, drinking you in while his hands begin to roam your now bare skin. He slips his grip down to your thighs, pulling you over the center console and causing you straddle his thighs. 

Not breaking the kiss, you begin to grind yourself down onto Yoongi’s quick-hardening cock. He moans into the kiss, his hands kneading your ass roughly. You gasp when you feel his hand lay a hard smack against your ass, the sound resonating throughout the car and causing Yoongi to smirk. 

“Oh, you like being spanked?” he peppers kisses across your neck, “have you been a bad girl?” 

“Mhm,” you moan, “I’m your bad girl.” 

“That’s right,” Yoongi growls, spanking you once again, “my bad girl.” 

You toss your head back when you feel Yoongi’s hips begin to twist beneath you, his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans. You reach between the two of you, unzipping his jeans and threading his cock through the hole. 

Yoongi sucks in a breath through his teeth while your small hand pumps him up and down carefully. 

“No time,” Yoongi groans, “ride me.” 

You didn’t have to be told twice. 

The feeling of the slick between your legs was enough to show that you were ready, so Yoongi’s fingers push your panties to the side while he holds his cock and lines it up with your entrance. It doesn’t take long for him to slip inside, his hands gripping your hips and lifting you up and down while you moaned above him. 

“You like my cock, don’t you baby? You’re gonna cum so good for me, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, the encouraging tone causing your body to jolt with pleasure. You nod quickly, your mouth opening to respond but the only noise to leave your throat was a whisper of his name. 

He feels the way your walls clamp down on him, leaning forward and nibbling across your breasts. “Fuck,” he curses while you speed your hips up, “your pussy feels so good around me.” 

Yoongi’s words cause your orgasm to creep up on you, his name falling from your lips like a mantra as you pulsate around him. Yoongi bears his teeth as he cums, growling low and deep while his fingers grip your hips hard, sure to leave bruises but you didn’t mind. 

You both sit for a moment while you catch your breath, Yoongi’s tongue licking a long stripe from your collarbones to your jawbone before he kisses your lips. 

“Did so good for me,” he rubs soothing circles in your burning thighs, “was I vocal enough for you?” 

You laugh, “Yes sir. Please keep it coming.” 

You both wince as he lifts you off of him, falling into the passenger seat and sighing happily. 

Your feet rest in his lap after the two of you are cleaned up, his hands gently massaging them while he tells you about a new song that he’s working on and how he hopes that someone will be interested. 

It’s then that you realize that this is going to extend past the need for sex, because the two of you were both genuinely interested in each other’s lives. He speaks animatedly about his interests and listens intently to yours. It doesn’t take you long to begin imagining waking up beside him every morning with the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. 

As he drops you off at your apartment for the night, Yoongi walks you to your doorstep.You unlock the door and turn to give him a goodbye kiss but he stops you, grabbing your hand and stroking across your knuckles. 

“So, do you think you’d be interested in being my girlfriend?” He asks nervously, “I- I wasn’t sure if you were just thinking of this as a friend with benefits situation so I figured I would ask before one of us gets hurt.” 

You nearly coo at the man, watching the way his eyes dance across his feet. 

You bring your arms around his neck and pull him down to your level, slamming a kiss onto his lips one more time. His hand grips the back of your shirt tightly, his tongue exploring your mouth while you lean against the wall. He pulls away with a grin, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Is that a yes?” 

You smile, “Of course.” 

[strutitout]

LARRY FIC REC - recently read

1. I don't want a taste (I want it all) [3K] by  thedaggerrose (blessedfetish)

What Louis really needed was a fat fucking nap.

What Louis got instead was some hipster-looking wannabe arguing with him over the validity of avocado toast.

Or the AU where Harry tells Louis to go fuck himself, Louis tells Harry to fuck him himself, and Harry follows through.

✨ Cute and hot + they bantering over avocado tost.

2. Right Side of the Wrong Bed [10K] by  eyesofshinigami 

There, standing in a pair of ridiculously tiny briefs and wielding a frying pan in one hand, is quite possibly the prettiest boy he's ever seen. Louis scrubs a hand across his face. "I'm in the wrong goddamn flat, aren't I?"

Or, the one where Louis wakes up on the wrong couch only to meet his future husband (even if Harry doesn't know it yet).

✨ This was not the first and won’t be the last time I read this fic. It’s super fun, hot, and even though it’s “just” 10K, their connection is really well-built.

3. When Least Expected [22K] by  Rearviewdreamer

Drowning in a sea of emails and Zoom meetings in the living room, his lonely son falling more and more behind in his kitchen classroom, and crushing weight of the world being on house arrest for the foreseeable future, one fateful online interaction suddenly has everything looking up.

✨Louis’ kid is having a hard time trying to adjust to the new reality brought by COVID, until he starts having music classes with music teacher Harry, and things start looking up for both father and son. Very sweet fic and really interesting to see them falling on love over this hard times.

4. Naked Attraction #2 [29K] by reader_chic_2

“By the way, I checked you out quite a lot before your tube was raised.”

Harry smiled lustrously, “Yeah? More than Leonard? He might have been crazy, but he was sort of cute.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Maybe to you, Styles, but I don’t enjoy dominating in the bedroom.”

“Is that so?” Harry licked his lips. “Funnily enough, I do.”

Louis felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. “I’m not sure if someone as adorable as you could dish out commands.”

Harry laughed brightly, and in a second flat his hand reached out and gripped his hip so hard it made Louis gasp. His eyes darkened, boring into Louis’ with a burning intensity. “And I’m not sure someone as mouthy as you could take my commands. Want to test it out?”

. . .

Louis Tomlinson is the first openly gay football player in the Premier football League. He was outed by the paps, but he’s had to embrace it since then. To show he doesn’t have shame in it, he goes onto Naked Attraction, and all the money will go to LGBTQ+ support, but he has made some changes to the show. Incidentally, he meets a certain Harry Styles there, and that is when things get interesting...

✨ This was really really fun, loved their dynamic and found it a very original story. Fluff, fun and smut. 

✨ Additional tags: Spanking. Subspace.  

5. Hold Me Closer [36K] by  balanceds

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

✨ I’m not an expert but from the comments it seems the writter nailed the “dancing world” characterization (even though you don’t have to know anything about it to enjoy it). There’s some good banter and friendship; hot smut; lots of pining and not that much angst.

6. Whisper The Wind [36K] by  jacaranda_bloom

Louis’ father has political ambitions and decides it’s time for Louis to step up as the company’s Chief Financial Officer. Louis thinks this is a monumentally stupid idea. After storming off in a rage he has a chance meeting with a tall, dark, curly haired stranger. A technical glitch with their shared elevator finds Louis spending twenty minutes with the most intriguing man he’s ever met. Unfortunately the man is leaving London the very next day and moving to Australia to work at his mates surf school. Timing, as they say, can fuck right off.

Fast forward three years and Louis is miserable, a shadow of the man he once was, working in his father’s company, and hating every moment. At his thirtieth birthday party, surrounded by people he doesn’t know or doesn’t like, he decides to throw it all in and follow the impossible dream. Happiness, a fulfilling life, and someone to love. The question is, will that dream be found ten thousand miles away on a sandy beach, with a curly headed surfer dude?

---

Or the one where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

✨ No angst, this is 36K of pure fluff and hot smut (read tags). They fall in love almost immediately, so they are already together most of the story.

7. King of wishful thinking [38K] by  Star_Henderson

“Don't umm don't get on the bus, come inside.” Louis blurted the words out, speaking quickly.

Harry looked startled.

“Just. Look I don't know if I want..” Louis scrubbed his face with his hand. “I'll pay for your time. Just come in.”

Harry stepped away from the bus stop and the bus sailed straight past.

“What's umm what do you guys make these days?”

Harry shuffled his feet. “Depends. Like two hundred an hour.”

Louis hummed. “Reasonable.” He gestured towards the hotel. “Come up for a drink or some room service or something.”

Harry scraped the toe of his already scuffed boots on the floor. “You don't have to do this, I feel like… like you're a nice person who feels bad but it's fine. I get it. You don't have to make it up to me.”

Louis stared at Harry. It'd been so long since he'd even spoken to a guy let alone hung out with one. He'd enjoyed the banter and the flirting.

“Come up.” Louis’ voice was soft.

Harry’s face bloomed into a smile. “Ok.”

✨This is another one that I’ve read more than once and still love. Sex worker Harry. Really sweet, very well-written and their love is really well constructed. 

8. hush. [41K] by  Wankerville

“I don't like you like that, Harry.”

“See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.”

---

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

✨ Read the tags! My notes on this one were: SO SO BEAUTIFULLLLL. Loved it, angst (but not a heartbreaking one), SO MUCH FLUFF, great dialogues, great banter and smut. Loved it!!! (lol)

9.  Don't Look Down [91K] by  zarah5

AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

✨I love everything they write and this one wasn’t different. Amazing characterization, great dialogues, great banter! Absolutely loved it! Not much smut. A bit angsty, wanted to punch Louis at times, but all ended well. 

10. Let Me Be Your Star [252K] by  lovelarry10

Harry Styles has always been a singer, but he’s never had much confidence in himself. When his idol is brought on as the new judge on The X-Factor, he figures, what the hell? He’d get to sing and meet his idol. What could go wrong?

~

Louis Tomlinson has always wanted to mentor young musicians. When he’s asked to be a judge on The X-Factor, it’s a dream come true, everything he ever wanted. What he didn’t expect was to meet a curly-headed stranger that would turn his life upside down

✨Hot smut, a lot of fluff and not that much angst. Harry seems a bit immature (which makes sense for his age) but their relatioship is really sweet. (I also enjoy that the writer included pictures of how they imagined H and L on each presentation)

[ohkiyo]

characters: black jackals, reader, and schweiden adlers (quick appearance).

warnings: lots of cursing.

word count: 9.3k

a/n: I was supposed to upload this one a few days ago, but I got lazy and I was always feeling sleepy so I didn’t have time to fix it. Hehehe, please enjoy this one! :D I’m lowkey bullying Atsumu in this chapter, but don’t worry, I still love him! XD

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         msby navigation || main navigation

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When Shugo was appointed as team captain, he didn’t really give it much thought and accepted the title with pride along with the responsibilities that come with it. He had the experience of being a captain when he was still a student, so it’s nothing new. The only difference is that he’s leading a team full of grown men instead of hormonal teenagers.

With a team like the MSBY Black Jackals, one of the top teams in the V.League Division 1, you’d expect players who are more on the professional side of the spectrum, the kind that always means business, practice first relax later, that kind of thing.

However, he was proven wrong when the younger ones of the team, namely, Bokuto Kotaro, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu, and Hinata Shoyo are involved, the atmosphere is far from serious. Of course, when it’s time for practice they’re more focused, giving 110% into their training.

Even so, once that whistle is blown, signaling a break from practice, all hell breaks loose. If it is not Bokuto and Hinata bouncing around and screaming, it would be Atsumu and Sakusa bickering, well mainly Sakusa roasting Atsumu and the blond Miya trying to come up with the best come back he could think of.

From what Shugo could remember, Atsumu had none so far, so it was safe to say the setter’s verbal game is weak.

It’s not just them either, the older ones, namely, Oliver Barnes, Adriah Thomas, and Inunaki Shion would sometimes join the other four when they’re feeling playful that day, which just give Shugo more problems to deal with, and when all seven of them joined forces it just increase Shugo’s chances of growing gray hair at age 29.

They have a manager of course and he is there to help keep everyone in check, making sure they behave and all. But, with the team becoming even more well known, emails for brand deals, interviews and magazine photoshoots were sent almost every single day that it needs immediate attention and the only one for that job is their manager himself, Mizuno Takato.

Leaving Shugo to mostly deal with the team on his own.

So when Coach Foster and Takato told him they’ll be having another manager to take care of the team’s internal affairs, he was so happy he almost cried.

“Everyone I would like you all to meet, (L/n) (Y/n) and she will be your manager starting today so take good care of her”

You bowed your head as everyone shouted a “Welcome to the team!” with Takato holding up your very own MSBY jersey jacket. As everyone went around to introduce themselves to you one by one.

“Hey, hey, hey! (Y/n) I can’t believe you’re back!” Bokuto bounded over to you, picking you up, then spinning you around laughing as Hinata excitedly babbles beside him.

“Welcome back (Y/n)!”

You giggled, happy to finally see the friends you left all those years ago “I’m home!"

Bokuto gently places you on the ground, planting your feet to the wooden floor as you steady yourself. While the others who were curious about the exchange and the sunshine duo's familiarity with you walks over.

“You know her Kotaro, Shoyo?” Oliver inquired as Bokuto nodded his head, taking hold of your shoulders and pulling you in front of him, facing your new teammates.

“She was our manager back in high school, while Hinata met her during our training camps”

That was months ago and every day you have proven yourself to be a very reliable manager and Shugo could not be any happier.

“Congratulations everyone! That was a very good game” you said, giving them their towels and drinks as they sat down on the bench. Resting their tired muscles and regaining the lost energy from a very tiring 3 set match.

The Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets were not an easy opponent, especially with players such as Kiryu Wakatsu, who was once a part of the top three aces in Japan and Goshiki Tsutomu who was Ushijima’s junior back in high school. Nevertheless, they still manage and won the game a good way to start their Monday.

“Goshiki’s straight is still as cool as ever” Hinata stated gulping down his water as Adriah and Shugo let out a sigh, remembering how they had problems blocking his spikes because of how close they mostly were to the line.

“He’s a very tricky opponent”

“Here you go, Sakusa-san” you pass Sakusa his own towel, the one you had specifically separated from the others as the spiker nodded at you in thanks, dabbing it on his face whilst listening to his teammate’s give their own commentary of the game and their insights of the opposing team’s players.

“Shugo, someone wants to have an interview” Takato called as the captain stood up from his seat about to walk to where they were waiting before he stops in his tracks and looks back.

“How about let’s have Bokuto, Atsumu, Sakusa, and Hinata do the interview this time?” he suggested, as Sakusa’s lips turned into a frown while the other three vigorously nodded their head “They're the stars of today’s game I’m sure the interviewer would love to hear from them”

Sakusa tried to make a last-minute getaway, but Atsumu took hold of the towel wrap around his neck and started dragging him, following after their captain.

“C'mon Omi-Omi, it'll be fun" Atsumu just grinned, watching Sakusa's face morph into a scowl as he tugs on the towel “Just live a little”

“I am living”

You quickly pack the empty water bottles and the dirty towels into the bag that Takato was holding while the rest slowly made their way back into the locker room “I’ll leave them to you (Y/n)”

You nodded, jogging after your teammates and immediately spotting them just outside the court, they've already started because you could hear the questions the reporter were asking them as you move to stand beside Shugo. The interview was going well, they were giving honest answers and honest opinions about the game, however, as it goes on, the reporter seems to have taken a liking towards Sakusa because he seems to be the only person the reporter was pointing the microphone at.

While the three idiots who were being ignored decided it was a good idea to do gymnastics at the back. You and Shugo watch in horror as Bokuto does a double backflip, landing perfectly on his feet, both hands raise high, Hinata mimicking his actions and Atsumu following after with a front split all the while not breaking eye contact from the journalist who had notice them. Sakusa who has had enough just plastered on the biggest I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck face while giving one-word answers.

Shugo who can’t do anything about it just banged his head on the wall. He wished he could have an early retirement but God he’s still young.

“What happened?” Inunaki asks watching from the door as you scolded the four from their stupid stunt. Only Bokuto and Hinata were the ones who look guilty and were muttering apologies under their breath while Atsumu was pouting saying things like.

"I did nothing wrong" or "She was being rude"

Meanwhile, Sakusa doesn't even understand why you're getting angry with him as well, he answered that woman's question like what he was told to do, he just chose the fastest route and the lady seems happy.

“You’ll see later”

They didn't even have to wait long because, after an hour, the video was already circulating the internet, earning hundreds of views by the minute with people commenting like crazy.

“The good thing is, we just earned ourselves more fans” Adriah laugh, Takato’s phone in his hand, the device letting out a ding every minute as the team’s official Twitter and Instagram account were flooding with notifications of new followers or tagged posts.

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Meeting their fans were always one of the things they love to do, the prospect of connecting with people who had supported them throughout the years that they played just keeps them even more motivated to train harder and play better.

“Okay everyone, be gentle with the kids alright? Bokuto, Hinata I’m looking at you” The captain shot the two mentioned players a look to emphasize his point however the mentor-disciple duo wasn't even listening and instead was jumping in excitement, waving at the kids waiting at the other side of the field.

You chuckled, they're just the same as they were in high school and here you thought they've matured a little bit now that they're in their 20s.

Right now, the team was in Kawasaki for a mini fan event held in one of the city's local elementary schools. The team came to an agreement last night, after watching the hilarious black jackals’ post-game interview, that it would not be just fun and games. They should also discuss some bits and pieces of the position they play to give the children some insights and give an early understanding in case they plan to pursue a volleyball career in the future.

However, with kids being kids, didn't seem to care nor interested in the slightest because once it started, they quickly run to their favorite member and started climbing them like trees. The tall ones, especially Adriah and Oliver have at least two kids hanging on each arm, with one of their back, and another on their leg.

"It's good work-out" Takato noted, telling the other kids to do the same to the rest of the members before snapping a few photos to update the fans of the team's schedule for the day.

You guffawed watching as they tackle Atsumu to the ground, the blond screaming for help while clawing at thin air for something to grab.

"Don't worry Atsumu-san, I'll help you!" Hinata tried so hard to pull Atsumu up, but another kid jump on his back resulting in him losing his footing and falling beside the setter.

Bokuto wanted to offer his assistance, but a little girl accidentally tripped him, landing on the two.

"Bokkun, yer heavy!"

"Sorry!"

It turned into a messy dog pile and Sakusa, who was beside the chaos, move his own horde of children to another area before showing his wrist trick. A chorus of oohs and aahs was heard, as the kids watch with wide eyes as it easily bends forward before a boy decided to do the same, but backward, and you have never been so bothered by something before.

You close both eyes, involuntarily shuddering 'Goodness, what are they feeding these children?' you crack an eye open to take a quick peek to check if they stopped but no, another kid also wanted to show his own freak talent and now there's three of them.

You turn around, you're just going to let them do their thing, they seem to be enjoying it anyway.

Feeling a tug on your skirt, you look down to see a little girl looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“Onee-san, you’re so pretty” she said in awe, as you leaned down to be at eye level with the girl.

“Oh? But you’re prettier”

She shook her head, and place her small hands on your cheek “But onee-san is like a princess”

You clutch a hand to your chest at how precious this little girl was, Takato was definitely having a field day because he has not stopped taking pictures. The girl took your hand and led you towards the garden, sitting you down under the tree as she picks up a flower crown and placing it on your head.

“There! It fits you perfectly!” she beamed as you try your best not to just wrap her up in your arms and hug her all day, she was just so cute. Her smile is so bright that somehow she reminded you of Hinata, a ball of sunshine with smiles that could light up the whole room.

“Do you have another one?” she nodded her head and showed you another that was half-finish. You remove a few pieces of flowers, switching it with ones of a different color then adjusting its size before tying both ends.

“Now, there are two princesses” you put the crown on her head as she giggled.

You continued making more flower accessories with her, flower bracelets, flower necklaces, and the likes then putting them on each other. She was a bright and bubbly girl, she would share you some stories of her and her older siblings, her parents and her friends in the elementary school.

You wanted to hear more, she was a good storyteller.

Time flies by so fast when you are having fun is what they would always say and you agreed with that saying because before you even knew it, it was time to go home. Everyone is standing by the gate, saying their goodbyes and telling promises to visit again.

“Bye-bye, pretty onee-chan!” she waves at you, standing beside her teacher, proudly wearing her flower accessories.

Later that evening, everyone was lounging around in the living room, tired from playing with the kids all day. The others were watching the news, however, no one was even listening to the television, because their attention was in the game Oliver and Shugo were having.

Inunaki leaned down to whisper something to Oliver, who's face light up, as he moves his queen to eat Shugo's rook.

"Hey, no coaching!"

Inunaki just shrugs his shoulders in response as he discusses their next strategy.

"I'll help you Meian-san" Hinata took a seat beside his captain, observing the board with such concentration. Brown eyes carefully scanning the positions each piece were place before whispering in Shugo’s ear. Following his suggestion with no doubt whatsoever, Shugo moves his queen forward only for it to get eaten by Oliver's pawn.

“Bwahaha!” Atsumu was bent over, clutching his stomach as he wipes the tears forming at the corner of his eyes while Bokuto tries to console his dejected kouhai in between laughter.

Inunaki and Oliver snickered sharing a high five.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Adriah, I need you to tighten that block a little more!”

“That’s good, keep it up Kiyoomi!”

“Okay, follow up, follow up!”

You stood at the sidelines, your eyes following their move as they were currently having a match against each other, Coach Foster and Takato were beside you observing the men on the court while occasionally giving out directives.

A camcorder was prep on your left side to record the practices, the videos will be used as a study material to properly assess the things that needs to be corrected in order to improve their gameplay. While you note down the commentary Coach Foster was saying to add later.

It went on for an hour, their stamina never fails to amaze you as they continuously, jump, dive, and run just to keep the ball in the air. After checking his wristwatch Coach Foster decided that it was time to end the training for the day. So he blew his whistle and the game immediately came to a halt, the ball bouncing on the wooden floor and they drag their tired bodies to gather in front of him, wiping their sweat with their shirt as they waited for his announcements.

“Okay boys good job today, keep in mind what I said and practice more on what you need to improve”

They slowly bob their head up and down, too tired to give out a verbal reply. Coach Foster doesn’t seem to mind because he knows they’re taking his advice seriously.

“This will be the last practice for this week so enjoy your weekend off and rest properly”

After that, they immediately spread out and started cleaning up the gym as fast as their tired bodies can so that they could finally rest and eat some good food.

"Shugo I need the report for last week, can you give it to me by tomorrow?"

"Yes coach, I'm almost done"

Lies, he hasn't even started yet and he was nervous that he won’t be able to finish it on time and if he ever submit the report late, Coach Foster was going to whoop his ass. So many things have happened this week that he never finds the time to start it yet, not even a single paragraph.

No, not even a single sentence.

Seeing your captain's inner turmoil, you walk up to him and whispered "Don't worry, I'll help you"

Shugo shot you a grateful smile, ruffling your hair "You're a savior kid"

That was how you found yourself sitting in the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you, staring at your current work. It would have been easy if the report was in Japanese but Coach Foster prefers it in English.

Shugo was sitting across you, hands fast and typing away, Takato was seated beside you rewriting your notes while the others, who still weren’t feeling sleepy at 11 pm were in the living room watching a movie.

"How do you spell Schweiden again?"

"S-c-h-w...uhh" Shugo's mind seems to have failed him mid-spell as he closes his eyes to try and remember.

"S-c-h-w-e-i-d-e-n" Sakusa finished for him as he walks into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. The movie must have already ended because the others were already piling into the kitchen, cans, and bottles of drinks in hand and food wrappers place in bowls.

"How's the report going?" Inunaki peered behind Shugo's shoulder.

"It's going great" It’s not, it’s actually not, Shugo is definitely close to pulling his hair out. He glared at his laptop as he continues on smashing the keyboard keys, opting to finish the report as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, you felt like your brain was short-circuiting, English is definitely a hard language, it's complex, it's tricky and certainly a pain. One word can mean two things depending on the pronunciation and its sentence usage and can have a whole different meaning when spelled and one letter is missing, like for example 'public', take one letter out and what do we get?

Pubic.

Anyway, that's not the point, the point is English is hard, and you were close to losing your mind.

You took a sip of your drink, which was coffee mix with a monster energy drink, it was definitely death in a cup but you couldn't care less. You need to stay awake and your deadly concoction was doing a great job keeping your eyes open.

"You know” you started resting your chin on your palm, taking a break from your suffering “I find it amazing how the names of professional volleyball teams are so long like-”

You scroll through the list you have saved in your laptop's notepad “-three to five words at most yet they are referred to by a single name"

"What do you mean?" Takato shifts his eyes from his notebook to you tracing the rim of your cup as your eyes focus themselves on the ceiling.

"I mean there's the Eastern Japan Paper Mills Raijin and everyone calls them Raijin, the Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets is called Green Rockets while Schweiden Adlers is referred to as Adlers"

"Yes, go on"

"MSBY Black Jackals is sometimes called MSBY or Black Jackals but even those names are a mouthful"

By now, everyone's attention was on you, curiosity flooding their mind as they wait for you to finish.

"So the team is mostly referred to as BJ" you look up and with the most serious face ever, you said "But has anyone even realize that BJ also stands for blowjob?"

Hinata, who was drinking a glass of milk choke on his drink while Atsumu slowly turns to look at Bokuto mouthing a "What the fuck?"

Oliver let out a nervous chuckle "You should take a break (Y/n)" he tries to set your laptop aside so you could rest your exhausted brain, but you shook your head and started working again, finally having the idea outlined in your head. That short break was very effective because your hands were seamlessly gliding over the keyboard keys, as input more words in to your work.

"Also, what does MSBY even mean? Most Significant Byte? I don’t get it"

They don’t get it either, as to where this is all coming from. They swore you have it stored in your mind for so long and just waited for the right moment to tell it.

It was amazing too because while you were going on and on about anything that you could think of, you were also typing on your laptop. Hinata took a peek to see if you were actually doing your job instead of just key smashing, but he was surprised when he saw you busting out an actual paragraph in English while spewing out nonsense in Japanese.

Multi-tasking sure is an impressive skill. He should learn it sometime.

You ran a hand through your hair, you were starting to have trouble again. You were in the zone for about 30 minutes but after that, the effect of your drink started to wear off and you were on a dead end.

The others had decided you hang out in the house's big kitchen doing their own thing, your eyes darted from every corner of the room, trying to find some sort of a cure to help your mental block.

Adriah was seated next to you scrolling through his phone as he nibbled on a pocky stick, you tap him on the shoulder as he looks up at you questioningly "Adriah-san, could you slap me in the face?"

Taken aback by your request he sputtered, almost dropping his phone "W-what?"

"I need something to keep me awake and this is not working anymore" you gestured to your now empty cup "I'm guessing the pain might keep me awake until I'm done with this"

Now, if you actually wanted to feel pain you could have asked at least one of the team's spikers, but you were not dumb enough to actually do that.

Adriah search your eyes for any signs that you were joking, but he found none "Are you sure (Y/n)?"

You assured him that it would be fine, so he raises his hand up as you prepare yourself for the impact.

Sleep must have been overtaking everyone's mind because it took them a few seconds to realize what was happening. Adriah's hand already collided with your face, he had underestimated the force he put in that slap but then soon find out he put too much when a smack resonated inside the kitchen as your body fell from the stool and landing on the cold tiles.

The whole room erupted into a panic as your body lays unmoving on the floor.

“Oh meu Deus!”

"Shit, shit, shit. Adriah what did you do?!" Inunaki kneeled down beside you, the cheek where Adriah hit was glowing red with a visible hand mark starting to form.

"I don't know, I just did what she ask me!" Adriah replied, equally as panicked.

Takato was now checking your pulse, to see if it was still beating. It was a bit exaggerated, a slap wouldn't kill you but with how strong Adriah did it. Takato wouldn't even be surprised if you snapped a vein in your neck.

Bokuto being the drama queen that he is, was shouting words like “(Y/n), don’t die you’re still young!” followed by a “Akaashi will be so sad if you go!”

And Atsumu, instead of being a good senpai that he claims he is, didn’t even think to help you. Instead, the first thing he did was to grab his phone and went live on Instagram to broadcast the madness happening in your shared kitchen.

"Goddammit Adriah!"

"Why are you blaming me?!"

Fortunately, you just passed out; picking you up, Takato carried you back into your room, and tucks you in. Gently closing your door, he goes back into the kitchen to calm them down before the neighbor calls the police on them.

He let out a heavy exhale, rubbing his temples “They’re hopeless”

What would he do without you?

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

When you woke up the next day, you could still feel a stinging sensation on your cheek, your head hurt as well, you wondered what happened to you after you blacked out. You sat up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and checking the clock on your night stand to see that it was already 8 am.

So you get out of bed, and walk downstairs into the kitchen to see everyone already there preparing breakfast. It seems like it wasn't just you who woke up late, because after Adriah slapped you to sleep, Shugo roped all of them into helping him with his report, and since none of them were familiar with the job. It took them until 2 am before they were finished and immediately e-mailed the document to Coach Foster.

"Good morning, how's your cheek?" Oliver eyed the slowly fading red mark on your cheek, standing besides Inunaki, holding a plate as the libero carefully places the pancakes in a neat stack, then flipping the other one that was still in the pan.

"It still hurts a little" you took a seat between Hinata and Sakusa, already eating their breakfast. 

Adriah passed you a plate with five pancakes stacked on top of each other, a slice of banana on the side, followed by a cup of your favorite coffee. Your eyes were literally sparkling, the food looks so delicious and it smell so so good you almost drooled “I'm sorry about last night"

He gave you a gentle smile, eyes soft, whoever was going to be this man’s future lover sure is very lucky.

"There is nothing to be sorry about Adriah-san, I was the one who asked for it" He was such a sweetheart, it wasn’t even his fault yet he took the time to prepare your food himself, now you just felt guilty by asking him to hit you.

You took the bottle of maple syrup Sakusa handed to you as you drizzled some of it on top of your pancakes "Also, please remind me to never do that again"

Everyone collectively agreed, after last night's scare, there was no way they were going to agree to any odd request you have, no matter how serious you were. 

Breakfast was quick, mainly because everyone had a photoshoot to attend at 10. It was a magazine photoshoot for a swimwear by a very well known brand, however it was also the photoshoot they were looking forward to. Because not only was the brand a favorite of theirs, they’ll be partnered with famous models as well, so it was a win-win on their part.

After everyone was finished, the dishes were immediately cleaned, the table wiped off of any food crumbs while the trash was taken out. The guys went back to their room to get ready, and once everyone was ready to go, they piled into the bus as it drove off to the beach which was the venue for the photoshoot.

"It's sure is refreshing to be walking by the sea" Inunaki gazed towards the blue water splashing along the shore, following after their two managers towards the area where tents, chairs and cameras were already set-up.

"It looks so beautiful too" Oliver said, kicking the white sand under his flip flops as the staff led them to the chairs lined out. The make-up artist immediately worked on their look that was going to be aligned with the photoshoot's theme.

"Ahh~ it's so hot" you hold the mini fan closer to Bokuto's face while Sakusa takes the one you were holding out for him, beads of sweat running down your face as Takato took care of the others. Of all the times they have to choose, it has to be in the middle of the day, when the sun is up and proudly shining.

The models were in another tent, dressed in their robes while they waited for the stylist to finish the last touches on the boys’ hair, once done, they changed into their designated swimwear, while the girls removed the robes they were wearing. 

It took them about two hours before they were finished, the director wanted to get as many shots as he could so he had plenty to choose from. The break in  between takes were crazy because the make-up artist and stylist had to jump from one person to another just to do some retouches, the girls especially, were very fussy and wanted their make-up redone every thirty minutes.

“This is the last time I’m working with models” Sakusa grumbles, as you hand him a packet of wet wipes as he takes a piece and rubs the lipstick stain off his cheek when the model he partnered with gave him a kiss earlier.

You could only offer him a sympathetic smile, even though this was not his first endorsement, he still wasn’t used to interacting with strangers. Not so keen to them casually touching him and invading his personal space.

“Oh Kiyoomi~” Sakusa let out a groan before turning to look at the woman jogging towards him, already changed into a yellow sundress and a sunhat on top of her head. “Here”

She placed a folded paper on his palm “Call me” then blew him a kiss before she walked away. Sakusa opened the paper to see her name, number and even address written on it.  He stared at the paper for a good second, before he met your eyes.

He just looks so done with everything.

“Isn’t this our lucky day?” Shugo whistled, pieces of papers on his hand while slinging an arm around Bokuto’s shoulder and sharing a grin with the pepper haired male. With Atsumu trailing behind them, saving the ones he received in his phone. Oliver threw his away because he’s happily married, while Adriah, Inunaki and Hinata gave theirs to either Bokuto or Shugo.

“The models” Sakusa started, looking at them as he crumples the paper on his hand “They’re married, all of them”

Oh 

Shugo dropped the papers in shock, jaws slack while Bokuto immediately deleted his copy, not wanting to get involved in a scandal just in case, and Atsumu was still having second thoughts, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the delete button.

Should he or should he not?

Sakusa just rolls his eyes before stalking off into the tent.

They quickly change back into their own clothes, leaving the venue with bags of the swimwear they just modeled. The brand’s logo is big and bright in the middle as your group walks to where the bus was parked.

“Ah, Captain Jackal” Shugo turned his head to see Schweiden’s captain walking over to him, wearing their team uniform, his hand raised in a wave.

“Bird” He leaned to the side noting the group of children crowding behind the area where he just left “Were you doing a meet and greet?”

“Yes, surprisingly the kids love Ushijima and Kageyama” Fukuro pointed to the two mentioned players with kids crowding at their feet, some hanging on their back while the others tugs on their arm “By the way, is (Y/n) here?”

Shugo pressed his lips into a thin line, turning his body to face Fukuro properly. “I know what you’re trying to do”

“No, you don’t”

“We’re not giving you our manager, get your own”

“But you already have two!” 

“I don’t care!”

They glared at each other, a month after you became a part of the team, Fukuro tried to recruit you into joining the Adlers. He even sent Ushijima, Hoshiumi and Kageyama to talk to you hoping that the idea of having familiar faces in the team would change your mind but alas, you were more comfortable with MSBY so you declined every attempt.

However, Fukuro found your one weakness and he’s using it to his advantage whenever he can.

He caught sight of your figure standing near the bus, he shot Shugo a smirk before cupping his hands around his mouth “Oi (Y/n), Adloo’s here!”

They heard you gasp, letting out an excited squeal.

“Adloo!”

You shove your things into Atsumu’s hands and sprint towards the mascot who was already holding out his arms for you. Shugo felt his eye twitch at the smug look on Fukuro’s face as they watched you rock the mascot back and forth with glee. He marched to where you were burying your face on Adloo’s soft fabric and plucking you from its side, then walking towards the bus, but not before shooting Fukuro the dirty finger.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

It was finally the weekend and it was the start of their long awaited day off, Takato had left early to go home to his pregnant wife while Oliver also went home to his family. Leaving the single ones to enjoy the weekend to themselves. It was already 8 am and you were currently sitting on the laundry room’s floor, separating the whites from the colored ones. 

The dirty laundry had been left lying there for almost a week because of how busy everyone was, everyday there was always something new to do, new places to go, and new schedules to follow. Now that it was Saturday, you took it as the chance to finally do it.

Picking up a piece of shirt, you saw a big spider laying underneath it. You jump up, letting out an inhumanly shriek as it circles around in its place.

“(Y/n) are you okay?! What happened?!” you pointed to the spider now crawling the walls of the washing machine, while running to hide behind them in the hopes they’ll get rid of it.

“What the fu-”

“Miya, kill that thing” Sakusa pushed Atsumu forward as the blond stumbled into the room, brown eyes zeroed in on the insect in fear that it might jump on him the second he turned away.

“Are ya crazy?! That thing’s huge!” 

He jammed himself in between Shugo and Adriah, pushing the two forward to be the new sacrificial lamb, the bug now sitting on the top of the washing machine stared back at them, unmoving. Black orbs following their movement, calculating, as if choosing his victim.

 Which of these idiots should it jump on first? 

“That’s it, this place is infected, we’re leaving”

“Hold on a sec, we ain’t leaving this place just because of one spider” Atsumu tried to reason with the man, but no luck however because Sakusa just thought of another way to get rid of the spider.

“Fine, lets burn it down then”

Sakusa turns to retrieve a fire starter and gasoline from the supply closet, actually serious. Atsumu quickly grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him from actually setting the house on fire. If there was one thing that everyone learned from being with Sakusa for so long, when he says he is going to do something, he is going to do it.

No bullshitting.

So if he says he’s going to throw Atsumu out of the second floor balcony, best believe he’d be doing it an hour after his declaration.

“Even worse! This house costs millions Omi, our combined earnings won’t even cover for the damage!” 

“Actually, it can”

“(Y/n), yer not helping”

“Okay, that’s enough” Shugo went in between the two “Let’s catch the spider first before it gets away”

“Uh… Meian-san” Hinata lifted a shaky hand pointing to where the arachnid was supposed to be, but the space is empty. Panic ensues and everyone searches high and low for the bug, lifting up furniture and other decorations looking behind paintings and opening kitchen drawers.

“Everyone it’s here!” Adriah called from the living room, he tiptoed towards the spider, jar in hand, ready to catch it in case it disappears again. You held in a breath when he was only a few centimeters away, slowly he lifted the jar and covered the spider. Sliding a paper underneath it, then took it outside to dispose of it.

Inunaki let out a sigh of relief before walking back into the kitchen to finish inspecting the fridge for any more ingredients to cook. The gang had decided to have Shabu-Shabu for lunch later and he was checking if there were enough ingredients left to serve 8 people. While you went back to the laundry room to load the clothes into the washing machine.

“We need to buy more” Inunaki closes the fridge door, as he checks the cupboards for the sauces and other spices.  “Meats and vegetables especially”

He took a piece of paper and wrote down what needs to be bought, double-checking the list if he forgot anything. 

“We’ll go!” Atsumu pulled Hinata and Bokuto towards him then pointing a finger at Sakusa who was spraying the kitchen counter with some lysol then wiping it with a rug “Omi-Omi too”

“What? No” 

He declined, but the blond just ignored his protest before looking at the older members. “We’ll be fine”

“Are you sure?” Adriah leaned on the counter as he looked at the troublesome four, they have done grocery shopping so many times before and it always turned out okay, the only difference is that before there was at least one of the older members accompanying them, while this time, they were choosing to go by themselves.

“No need to worry Adriah-san” Hinata tried to reassure the man, and although Adriah did relax a little he still hadn’t agreed to it yet. You walk in the kitchen, the first batch of laundry already in the washing machine, tumbling around as the detergent removes the dirt and bad smell.

“I don’t see a problem” Shugo pipes up “They’re adults now, I’m sure they wouldn’t fail something as simple as grocery shopping”

Inunaki was still a bit hesitant, his eyes darting to each face of the younger members of the team, though mainly focusing themselves on Atsumu and Bokuto, because he knows those two share a brain cell but don’t know how to use it.  However, Shugo is right, so he gave you the list and the money before following the five of you into the garage.

“So who’s driving?” Shugo held up the keys, twirling them on his fingers while they put on their face mask and cap to avoid getting recognized in public.

“I will” 

He stared at Atsumu, eyes blinking before turning to you, jiggling the keys. “(Y/n)?”

You shook your head. “I’m still learning Meian-san”

“Ya gotta trust me captain!”

“I find that hard to do Atsumu”

Shugo retorted, but still dropped the keys to Atsumu’s hand as the blond opened the car and turned it on.

“Don’t damage her!”

“We won’t!”

The three of them watched, as the car went out into the driveway and zoomed through the streets. Leaving a trail of dust behind as the vehicle went out of sight in just seconds.

“I think, I made a mistake”

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

You stumbled out of the car, your heart beating fast and knees wobbly, clutching the side of the door as the trauma of a near death experience still haunts your mind.

"I think I'm going to throw up" Hinata pressed his palm on his mouth, face pale, his other hand wrapped around his stomach as he tried to contain the puke threatening to come out.

“I thought you said you could drive?” Sakusa shot Atsumu a glare, adjusting his mask. When the setter offered to drive, you thought he was actually good at it, you did not expect for him to almost crash the car at the gasoline station or nearly run an old woman over.

“That was dangerous Tsum-Tsum” Bokuto massaged his forehead, he hit the back of the driver’s seat rather hard when Atsumu slammed his foot on the break, just a few feet away from killing an old lady. Fortunately, there were no traffic enforcers nor police officers nearby and the woman didn’t even realize she was close to meeting her creator today. She happily crossed that street, as if she owned the place.

“Hey! I’m just not use to this car okay?” the setter reasoned patting the car’s hood, rubbing his palm over the sleek black top “It’s different from the one I drive back home”

“If you can drive it doesn’t matter what car, you’ll still be able to drive it properly” Sakusa crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow “Did you even pass your driving test?”

“Of course I did, I got 90%,” Atsumu answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips with his head held high and his lips upturned into a smile.

“Was the instructor a girl?”

“Yes”

There was silence, everyone staring at him doubtfully, eyes narrowed and judging.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“But guys…” Hinata called as he waved them over, pointing at a long scratch mark on the passenger’s door. It was big, about an arm’s length. “Captain is going to kill us”

You walk around the vehicle to check the other side, to see another one on the side of the car’s hood. You clutch your head in frustration, face drained of any color, it would’ve been okay if it was just one, but there’s actually two of them. “Meian-san just bought this four months ago”

“We have to pass by a repair shop before we go home” Bokuto scratched the back of his head. “Tsum-Tsum is paying for the paint job of course”

“Alright, alright. Sheesh. Let’s go buy the groceries first” Atsumu quickly huddled everyone together and started pushing you all into the market’s entrance.

The farmers’ market is always the best place to buy ingredients, it’s cheap compared to the ones sold in malls where prices are doubled, sometimes even tripled, and it’s just ridiculously expensive. You can bargain with the vendors as well, in case some of the items were a bit too pricey. Luckily, the market isn’t too crowded, there weren’t many people buying yet which was unexpected since this place is usually packed during the weekend.

However, there was also one thing that you didn’t expect. Apparently, with how many times you frequent this place during your shopping trips, either one of the boys had made friends with some of the vendors.

“Hinata look, it’s you!” Bokuto held a tangerine next to Hinata’s head lifting his hat a little and grinning at how the fruit’s color was almost the same shade as his disciple’s hair. 

You pick up another tangerine, examining it for any damages before looking through the rest of the ones displayed. While the others look through the rest of the fruits they offer, bananas, avocados, apples and some grapes. Anything they found very appealing was picked up and placed inside the bag.

“How much for all of these?” you look at the girl, pointing at the bag that’s almost filled with fruits, but she seems to be looking at something else. You turn around, following where her eyes were focused to see the troublesome four eating some of the fruits.

“We haven’t paid for those yet!” you shriek before turning to the girl again and bowing furiously “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

“Wouldja relax (Y/n)-chan?” Atsumu took hold of your shoulder, stopping you from hitting your forehead on one of the crates “These are free samples”

He pointed to the little corner of the stall where smaller size crates were neatly arranged, three pieces of each fruit sitting inside with the sign reading free sample, pasted at the front.

“They’re really good (Y/n), here” Bokuto fed you a piece, watching as you munch on the sweet and juicy fruit.

You let out a hum, swallowing the fruit “This is good” you turn to look at the girl, eyes wide “This is really good

She gave you a shy smile, a light shade of pink now visible on her cheeks “Really? Thank you”

“So, how much for all of these?” you opened your bag, pulling out your wallet.

“It’s okay, this is free”

You almost drop your wallet from what she said, you shook your head fishing out a few thousand yen bills and giving it to her “No, this is too much”

She pushes back your hand, lifting up your bag and giving it to your companions “Consider it as a gift” then she moves to serve the other customer in waiting, waving your group goodbye.

Sakusa pushed you to move when he still saw you staring at the rejected money in your hand, leading you to where you were going to buy your meat. Passing through the vegetable stands where you still need to buy some for when you’re finished at the butcher’s shop.

“Hiruma-san good morning!”

“Ah, come in come in!” an old man from behind the counter grinned, lifting the clever over his head before bringing it down on the thick meat place on his wooden chopping board. “What would you like today?”

He wipes his hands on his apron, walking behind the glass case grabbing a tong, snapping it a few times as they pick the meat they like for their lunch later. They were pointing mostly at anything they lay their eyes on, and Sakusa has to remind them about the budget and that they can’t have pork, beef, lamb, and duck at the same time.

“The others didn’t come with you today?” the old man asked, picking up the pork and beef slices that were far too many and bagging them.  Then he grabbed another bag and went to the fish area.

“They’re busy at the house”

At the corner, you were counting the money, mentally calculating your budget again. The old man was giving large portions of the meat and you knew that it wasn't very cheap. Just a few cuts alone were worth a few hundred yen, what more when there are two types of meat involved with different varieties of fish thrown into the mix.

He tied the bags then gave it to Atsumu and Bokuto as Sakusa refused to touch the raw meat, not until it had been washed properly, not even if it’s packed away in a bag.

“This one is on the house”

“What? No!” you scrambled towards the man, almost tripping yourself in the process “Hiruma-san please just take the money, this is too much”

“This is a thank you for being such good patrons” he didn’t even let you say another word, the man just walked off to the other side of the display case catering to another customer who walked in.

What is up with these people ignoring you?

Hinata led you out, patting your back, chuckling at the pout on your face.

“Hinata, is our money not good enough?” 

“Maybe they’re just feeling generous today (Y/n)” 

You stood outside the shop, eyebrows furrowed in thought, you were starting to wonder if they were genuinely just being generous folks or there was something hidden behind their actions. 

“Now, all we need are the vegetables then we can go home”

You look around for a nearby vegetable stall, one that you think is not friends with any of the guys so they’ll have no choice but to accept your money like a proper businessman.

“That one” you pointed to the one just besides the meat shop. “I’ll go”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, just stay put” then you walk off face determined. “Hello”

The vendor put down the crate he was holding, wiping his hands on his pants and walking over to you.

“(Y/n)?” You internally groaned, your old high school classmate standing in front of you at the other side of the stall, and here you were hoping it wouldn't be anyone you know.

“Masuda, long time no see” you nodded your head at him, picking through the vegetables. They were all fresh, he must’ve just arrived.

“Yeah, six years is a long time” He grabbed a basket holding it out for you, as you picked out, mushrooms, carrot, green onion and napa cabbage. “Doing some grocery shopping for the team?”

He gestures to the large amounts of vegetables you’re dropping in the basket “Yep, they’re big eaters. All of them”

He laugh placing them inside a plastic bag “They’re athletes after all” 

“How much?”

You accepted the plastic big, the money ready in your hand.

“No. it’s free” you squint your eyes at him, pursing your lips “Consider it as my payback for helping me so many time during high school”

“School has nothing to do with this Masuda” you grab his hand, slamming the money on his palm “So for the love of all things holy, just accept the money”

You stared him down, daring him to refuse it one more time. He nodded his head, clutching the cash as you walked away satisfied that finally, finally, someone accepted your payment. You swore, if these people just keep on giving their products away just because the customer is a friend or a relative, you won’t be surprised if they go home without any profit at the end of the day.

“Let’s stop by the repair shop first then we’ll go home” Atsumu reminded before looking down at Sakusa’s outstretched hand “What?”

“Give me the keys, I’m driving this time” He snatched it out of Atsumu’s hand then climbed into the driver’s seat.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

"It's such a nice day today isn't it?" Shugo leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. The cabana tent serves as a good shade from the afternoon sun.

Adriah removes one of the earbuds from his ear, hands still moving across his notebook as he writes his notes from his Japanese lessons "It is, the sun feels really good"

They were now in the backyard enjoying the rest of the day besides the pool, Hinata and Bokuto were already playing in the water doing some diving tricks they saw on YouTube. (Y/n) and Atsumu were on the other side, the girl dying the setter’s hair as his roots were starting to show up, meanwhile Sakusa was still inside, probably finishing up on his cleaning.

“Wish days like these would last” Inunaki leaned down, opening the cooler beside his feet, grabbing three bottles of beer and giving it to the two. Opening the packet of chips resting on the table as they munch on some snacks, listening to the song they had put on the speaker to play.

"Kiyoomi, what have you got there?" Adriah asks as the germaphobe walks towards the garbage bags. Masked on his face, his hands covered with plastic gloves, holding what seems to be a ziplock bag filled with some sort of articles of clothing.

"Miya's dirty underwear" he swiftly answered, opening one of the bags and immediately tossing the ziplock bag inside and closing it again "He left it lying around in the bathroom again so I'm throwing it away"

He walks back into the house, probably to resume his cleaning escapades as the three older men could only watch his retreating figure, speechless.

"Should we tell Atsumu?" Adriah took a worried glance towards the piled garbage bag, eyebrows furrow in concern, before looking at the two again.

Inunaki waves his hand, biting on a potato chip "Nah, he'll find out soon once he realizes he's missing a few pair"

So they just continued whatever they were doing, Hinata and Bokuto's shouts and laughter echoing throughout the open space. A cool wind blew past them, ruffling the leaves of the trees planted near the fence as the flowers swayed along with it.

"Bokuto grab a drink here" the pepper haired male pauses his game with Hinata as he climbs out of the pool, water dripping from his body as he crouches in front of the cooler.

"Do you have soda Meian-san?" He rummaged through the multiple bottles and cans of alcohol, pushing the blocks of ice to the side before his eyes landed on the familiar green and black color scheme of a mountain dew can. 

He took the can, and three more bottles before opening them and walking to where Hinata was now sitting at the edge on Atsumu and (Y/n)'s side of the pool, giving (Y/n) the soda and the two other bottles to Atsumu and Hinata.

“I’m still bothered about Atsumu’s underwear” Adriah once again turned around in his chair, eyes trained on the garbage bag, waiting for the time it gets to be picked up. “We could-“

A loud honking sound was heard from the other side of the fence as you stopped what you were doing. "The garbage truck is here" jogging to where the bags were resting. Bokuto and Hinata follow after her. Helping the girl carry them out, with their setter's underwear lying amongst the trash in one of the bags, and Atsumu, who was none the wiser, happily held the back gate open as the three walked out and gave it to the garbage man.

They shared a look, as if they had just indirectly participated in a crime, as the garbage truck drives away towards the other houses in the neighborhood. 

“Let’s just hope Atsumu still have some spare left”

Sakusa who have already finished cleaning walk towards their area. Already changed into a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops with a book tuck under his arms.

"You want a drink Kiyoomi?" 

"No, thank you" Sakusa answered, before situating himself on the lounge chair and opening his book. It was rare for Sakusa himself to willingly join everyone, he's usually not into gathering or bonding that much, so the team must have reached a new level of personal hygiene for the Sakusa Kiyoomi to hang out with them.

It's probably the result of (Y/n) constantly reminding them to wash their hands with alcohol and hand sanitizers, telling them to wear face masks when they're out travelling. Lecturing them how pollution and their constant exposure to sweat and social interactions with other people can lead to a disease. When you had said that, they thought you were going to evolve into Sakusa 2.0 but remembered that you were a university graduate with a degree in sports science so they can’t really argue with that one.

“Maybe I should dye my hair as well, what do you guys think?” Shugo started as the two looked at him questioningly, watching as the captain inspected his hair through his phone’s front camera, running his hand through it as he tugs at the end.

Inunaki snorts, slumping on his chair “Oh please, you’re already old”

“I’m not old! I’m only 29”

The libero deadpanned at him “You’re literally one birthday away into turning 30”

Adriah just laughs, closing his notebook and looking at his captain “What color do you have in mind?”

“Blond looks cool” Shugo shrugs his shoulders, watching as you apply the last remaining dye on Atsumu’s hair.

Inunaki groaned “Oh god no, you’ll look like an old man trying to be hip”

“I told you, I���m not old!”

“Oh yeah? Because that gray hair says otherwise”

“What?”

Inunaki and Adriah pointed at the front part of his hair, as he held up his phone to see a strand of gray hair sticking out among his dark locks.

“What the fuck”

“Congratulations captain, that is a milestone” Adriah patted him on the back laughing.

Shugo stared at it in disbelief, lifting a hand and wrapping it on his finger then tugging.

"Don't pull it out, did you not learn from your elders?" Inunaki scolded him, slapping his hand away.

"Learn what?"

"If you pluck it out, they'll spread faster. Just let it be, it's not even that noticeable"

Shugo looked at it again then ruffled his hair to see if it could be hidden within the rest, and was satisfied when he saw it could be covered.

Silence filled them again, munching on their chips and drinking when Atsumu's booming voice erupted from the depths of the huge house.

“Where the heck are all my underwear?!”

[crackheadgeminibby]

trust pt. 6

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: language, age gap, angst

word count: 1.6k

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

picture credit: @chrisevans on twitter

“Y/N… What are you doing here? Wait, what time is it? Don’t you have to wake up at 6am for work?”

You smile softly at his concern.

“It’s like 4am or something, I don’t really know. I was driving around, and I don’t know, I just ended up here, I guess. Thought we could talk or something…”

“Oh.” Chris scratches the nape of his neck. “Do you want to come inside, or do you want to stay out here?”

“I guess it’s kinda cold”, you shrug. “Inside, then.”

Chris nods at you and gets up. He starts to head inside and whistles for Dodger to follow, which he does promptly. You smile at Dodger and follow behind him.

Once inside, Chris stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room. He gestures for you to sit on the couch then hesitates before taking a seat beside you.

You play with your fingers while thinking about how you want to approach the situation. You subtly look over at Chris and, from the corner of your eyes, you can see that he’s looking at you. He opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything.

You decide to not say anything either and reach for your phone. You unlock it, open your email app and you feel your throat closing again as you open the email that started this whole situation. You silently hand your phone over to Chris for him to read.

He takes the phone and shakes his head as he looks at the picture then reads the text.

You start gnawing at your thumb and breathing heavily as your anxiety rises, “Why?”

He takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling. He looks back to you then opens and closes his mouth multiple times.

“I can explain.”

You gape at him and scoff. What a cliché.

“No, I promise I can. It’s not some kind of bullshit explanation to justify anything, I just… Please, just hear me out?”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds then slowly nod and say, “Okay.”

He takes a deep breath then starts, “Okay. You probably remember that a couple of years back I was in a pretty serious relationship with Jenny Slate.” He looks at you and waits for your acknowledgement so you slowly nod your head.

“Okay, so we eventually publicly announced that we were broken up because some of my fans were being very rude and nasty to her. They kept attacking her character and her appearance and we both just couldn’t handle it anymore.”

He then sighs.

“Before we made the announcement, we had already agreed that we were going to stay friends because we got along really well and we each thought that the other was an important part of our life. Then, in June of last year, I threw a small house party for my birthday and she came. We spent most of the night talking and catching up and by the end of the night, we had decided that we wanted to get back together. We didn’t say anything to anyone that wasn’t our family or very close friends, we just wanted to get another, untainted shot at a relationship without anyone meddling. At first, I could feel that it wasn’t like before… A lot of the things that used to make our relationship work seemed inexistant now. Kind of like we weren’t meant to be together anymore. I still tried to make it work but then I met you. And it was like the universe was trying to send a sign saying that this relationship wasn’t it for me. Literally as soon as I saw you in that coffee shop after doubting you were gonna show, I knew that we were meant to be. I don’t know how to explain it… I guess it was love at first sight.”

Your breath catches in your throat when you hear him say that and you know that he saw it. You detach your eyes from his and look at the carpet beneath your feet.

“How come you were kissing her a week ago then?” Chris looks at you and sighs.

“About two weeks after you and I met, I broke it off with her. I didn’t beat around the bush or anything, I was very straightforward. I talked to her about what I was thinking, what I was feeling, and why I thought we needed to break up. I didn’t tell her it was because of someone else because I guess I didn’t want to jinx it or anything. She got pretty mad and said she didn’t want to see me again but about a month ago, she sent me a text asking to meet. Since we’d agreed that we were going to stay friends, I thought ‘Why not?’ So, I told her I was really busy wrapping stuff up but that I was going to stay at my mom’s for a week after. So, we made plans to get dinner two nights before I left. We just talked and stuff and everything was going fine until she started talking about getting back together. I immediately told her that I had met someone and that I was happy and that I had agreed to have dinner as friends only. She seemed kind of bothered at first but as time passed, she seemed to be fine and started asking me about you. I thought she was just curious, so I told her about you and showed her pictures of us and all and she seemed totally fine. Then, when we were leaving, I was waiting for my car and she just lunged at me and kissed me. I didn’t really do anything because I knew that people were watching us since we got recognized during dinner. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I just let her be and when she stopped, I told her not to contact me again. I didn’t think anyone had taken a picture or anything, so I just left without saying anything else.”

He looks at you and waits for you to say something, which you don’t for the first couple of minutes. He scratches the inside of his wrist and it clues you into his anxiety.

“Y/N... Please, say something. Anything…”

You clear your throat and look up at him. You stare into his eyes for a couple of seconds then look to the side.

“So, you just let her kiss you?” Chris grimaces and nods.

“Just because you didn’t want to attract attention?” He silently nods again.

“Not because you wanted to see if you felt anything for her? Not because you still love her?”

Chris rapidly shakes his head and kneels next to you. He hesitates before taking your hands and weaving his fingers between yours. He looks deeply into your eyes and says,

“Absolutely not. I swear to you, I do not feel anything at all for her.”

“What about your family?”

Chris knits his brows together in confusion and asks, “What about them?”

You sigh before talking. You feel a little stupid even bringing that up.

“In the email… She said you haven’t taken me to meet your family because, essentially, you’re embarrassed of being with me.”

“Oh God, no. That is not what that is about. Right now, you’ve only met Scott, Seb, Anthony, and Scarlett. That’s just 4 people, right? As soon as we add more people to that list, in this case, my very big family, the chances of the public knowing grow literally exponentially. I just… Wanted to keep our relationship for us only for a while. I know that as soon as the public knows, it’s gonna be a fucking shitshow and I just didn’t want to put you through that so soon.”

You nod slowly, unsure of how to react.

“Have you talked to her since?”

He shakes his head and answers, “No. She tried to call me a couple of times, but I just declined her calls. I promise you Y/N, the only person that I feel anything for is you.”

He untangles one of your hands and caresses your cheek.

“I love you and only you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You feel tears sting at your eyes as you gaze into his baby blues, looking for a scintilla of doubt or insincerity. When you find none, you nod and say,

“Okay. I forgive you.”

He smiles the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and gets back on the couch to hug you.

You breathe deeply and whisper,

“I love you too, Chris.”

You can feel him smile even more into your neck and he lets go of you before stroking your cheek.

He then leans into you and kisses you fervently, pouring all of his emotions in this one kiss.

“I think I’m going to call in sick to work. I need to sleep”, you laugh while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He chuckles at you and asks,

“How about we go to bed now and sleep in today, huh? Then, we can go get lunch or something?”

You nod enthusiastically and crash your lips on his again.

Sebastian was right: you really did need to just talk it out.

the end

PSA: this is in no way, shape or form hate on jenny slate. i know she is engaged and i’m sure she is a very nice person that is very happy in her current relationship. this is simply a work of FICTION and should be treated as such so don’t come for me please:)

[quickspinner]

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 5 Reality Check

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

I’m sorry this chapter took so long but I assure you it was necessary. For updates on my in-progress stories, check my WIP Report tag. It will probably be a while before the next update to this story because I’m going to try to get the last few chapters closer to completion before I start posting again, so that we will only hopefully have one more significant delay and then the remaining chapters will come quickly.

I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meantime!

He couldn’t have asked for a better beginning. Even the fifty-three texts from Rose he had to answer when he got home couldn’t dim the smile on his face. 

Luka spent the next few days in a glow of quiet contentment, polishing his new song and texting occasionally with Marinette. She was incredibly busy during work hours, but they spoke a little bit each evening. 

Happy as he was, though, he still felt...heavy. It made him think about what Juleka had said and he began to wonder if there was more to what he was feeling than grief over his mother.

Luka could have texted but he called just for the comfort of hearing her voice and the everyday sounds of her life in the background. “Hey, Jules,” Luka said, smiling at the sound of Angie’s distant coos and Rose’s baby talk. “Can you text me Dr. Thorpe’s number? I think the one I have is out of date.”

“Yeah, sure,” Juleka replied, surprised. “Is...is everything okay? I thought...your date went okay, right? You told Rose it was good.”

She would have mocked him mercilessly if she could see the grin that broke over his face. “It went amazing,” he told her. “It’s just...I was thinking about what you said, about how I’ve been lately, and maybe there’s...maybe there’s more to how I’ve been feeling than just losing Mom, you know? You know the medication never worked for me like it did for you, but it’s been a few years. I thought maybe I could just check in with the doc and see if there’s anything new I could try. Obviously just the meditation and exercise isn’t cutting it anymore, so…can’t hurt to ask, right?” 

“Yeah...yeah, I get it. I think that’s a good call.” He heard her sigh of relief and winced slightly. “You’re still going to the support group?”

“Not as regularly, lately, but yeah, I go when I need to,” Luka told her, tapping one finger on his leg restlessly. “Hey...thanks for everything. I know I’ve made things really hard for you when they were already difficult, so...thanks for being there.” 

“Just returning the favor,” Juleka mumbled. 

“That’s not one I ever wanted paid back,” he sighed. 

“Well…” Juleka fell silent for a moment, and Luka waited for her to put her thoughts together. “Well. It’s not over yet, but you’re working on it so...it’s okay. I’m okay. I can handle it.”

“It’d be okay if you couldn’t,” Luka reminded her. “I don’t ever want to be—”

“Shut up,” Juleka bit out harshly. “Just shut up, Luka. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She sighed heavily. 

"Okay,” Luka said gently. “Okay, Jules. That’s all I needed anyway. I love you, okay?” 

“Sap,” she muttered, and then, “So the date went well?”

Luka let his head fall back and grinned at the ceiling. “The date went great. Amazing. We’re supposed to go out again soon.” He hesitated. “I was thinking,” he said slowly, “About maybe taking her to The Highlander.” 

“The Highlander? You haven’t been there in months,” Juleka said, and Luka could hear she was frowning. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Especially for a second date.”

“No,” Luka admitted, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. “You think it’s too soon?”

“I think maybe you should go by yourself—wait, not by yourself. I think you and I should go first. See how you handle it. It didn’t go so well last time, Luka. And you haven’t been there in ages, you know people are going to stop to talk and they’re going to want to know how you are and...it just might be hard.”

Luka pressed his lips together and sighed through his nose. “Yeah. You’re right. Maybe a little bit later.” 

“I just don’t want you to take on more than you can handle,” Juleka said, and he could hear Rose’s worried voice asking indistinct questions in the background. “Or rushing things too much and getting hurt. It might be just a quirky little Scottish pub to her but that doesn’t change what it is to us. It’s not fair to take her there like it’s just another theme bar.”

“Right,” Luka sighed. “Okay, I’m convinced. I’ll think of something else. You know I kind of hate movie dates.”

“That’s because you’re intense and nosy,” Juleka told him bluntly. “Movie dates are good, they give you something to talk about besides prying out her darkest secrets or spilling all of yours.” 

Luka rolled his eyes. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I always do,” Juleka snorted. “Someone has to keep you from getting all up in your head and being an idiot.”

“Yeah, thanks so much for that,” he grumbled, but he was smiling. 

“Luka…”

“Yeah?”

There came another gusty sigh. “I love you too.” 

Then she hung up on him. Luka rolled his eyes, but smiled a moment later when his phone dinged as her text with the number came through.

***

Luka’s good mood lasted through the week, right until the moment he opened his door to a slightly pale Louis and a stone-faced Adrien. Luka pursed his lips for a moment. Adrien didn’t say anything until Luka sent Louis into the studio with instructions to start his warmups. The room was mostly soundproof with the door closed. Luka made sure it was shut and then went back to the hall where Adrien was still standing, his expression still stiff but murder in his eyes.

“Enjoy your date?” Adrien growled. 

Luka folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “I did. I’m hoping to take her out again sometime soon.” 

Adrien’s face twisted. “Did you fuck my wife, Couffaine?” 

Luka sighed through his nose, lips tight. “I did not sleep with your ex-wife, no,” he said slowly, looking Adrien in the eye. “I took her out, I did my best to charm the hell out of her, and I kissed her.” He straightened up off the wall and faced Adrien. “Not that it’s actually any of your business what we do together.” 

“If it gets out—”

“I don’t give a shit, Adrien,” Luka said sharply, leveling a glare at his old friend. “I don’t care about your reputation, I never have. Isn’t that why your father told you to stay away from me in the first place?”

Adrien reared back a little. “That—”

“Forget it,” Luka cut him off, holding up a hand. “Listen, I don’t hold your father against you. Not the things he said and did, and not the things he made you do. I know that none of that was your fault. But what you do and say here and now, Adrien, that’s on you, so don’t talk to me about making Marinette dance to your tune to save your reputation, or this conversation is gonna go downhill real fast. She’s single. She’s her own woman. She can date who she wants. If that’s me—” Luka shrugged. “I couldn’t care less what your investors think about it.”

“You absolute bastard.” Adrien scowled when Luka didn’t react. “How the hell can you stand there and act so calm?”

“Because I know your feelings don’t actually have anything to do with me,” Luka said softly. “You feel angry and hurt and betrayed, just like you have for the last, what, year and a half? Almost two, now, right? But deep down I don’t think you’re petty enough to want Marinette to be miserable, or to resent me for making her happy. If that’s even something she wants, by the way, which is by no means certain. It was only one date.” 

“I can’t believe you,” Adrien burst out, his hands making an abortive gesture at his sides. “You knew her for what, five minutes?”

“Don’t give me that,” Luka snapped, his arms unfolding as he gave Adrien a hard look. “I know exactly how long it took for you to find somebody else after the divorce was final, the whole world does.”

Adrien winced. “That was a mistake,” he muttered. “I was hurt, I was angry, she was the one person I thought would never leave and I just wanted—” he broke off and took a shuddering breath. 

Luka softened a little, reminding himself that this was his friend. “Look,” he sighed. “I know you’ve gone through a lot and we do stupid things when it comes to the people we love. I get it. I know that the divorce wasn’t what you wanted, I get that too. But you don’t get to decide when she’s allowed to move on. Or to whom.” He waited for a moment but Adrien said nothing, and he went on. “Look. For what it’s worth, I give you my word, I will treat her right. I’ll be careful with her and I’ll be careful with Louis. I’m trying to be as careful as I can with you, I really am.” 

“I know,” Adrien ground out. “I think it just makes it worse. I really want to hate you.”

“I know. If you don’t want to talk to me for a few weeks—or longer—I totally get it. I can start doing written reports over email for Louis. You can just drop him off and pick him up and leave without saying a word to me if you want. I mean, you can pull him out if you want to, but I don’t think either of us really wants that. He’s doing really well so far.” Luka hesitated. “I don’t want to cause him problems though so if he’s no longer comfortable with me, I’d understand.” 

Adrien took a deep breath. “We’ll see,” he said grudgingly. “I just don’t know right now. I’m not sure he’d tell us if he was uncomfortable, to be honest, and I don’t...well. Like I said, we’ll see. You’ll probably see it before either of us if he’s got a problem with you. For now, just go on, he’s waiting for you, and I really need to get out of here. I’m still mad as hell.”

Luka nodded. “Later, Adrien.”

“Asshole,” Adrien muttered as he left.

When he entered the studio, Luka wasn’t surprised to see Louis sitting tense on the piano bench, not playing. He went over and leaned against the piano instead of sitting next to him as he normally would. “Hey,” Luka smiled. “Your mom talk to you?”

“Yeah,” Louis said, staring at the keys. 

“You want to talk about it, or are you not ready yet?”

Louis glanced up at him in surprise, then seemed to think about it. “I don’t think I want to,” he said after a moment. 

“Okay. Can I sit?” Louis hesitated, and Luka added, “Or do you just want to play your feelings for a minute?” It had become part of their routine, whenever Louis seemed to need it. He still fumbled a lot, not quite comfortable with improvising, but the emotions were there and came across and that was what mattered. 

Louis nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I need that.” 

“Can I stay, or would you rather I let you get it out on your own?” 

Louis seemed to think again, and Luka was glad. At least the boy wasn’t just rejecting him outright. “You can...you can stay, I think. Maybe it’ll be easier than talking.” 

“Okay. Thanks for that. If you change your mind, let me know and I’ll go. I know this is all—” Luka sighed. “Confusing, and frustrating and maybe even hurtful. It’s okay. You just...feel what you need to feel, and play what you need to play, okay? We don’t have to talk until you’re ready, and if that’s not today, that’s okay too. There’s no rush. We can set our own pace with this.”

Louis nodded, and raised his hands over the keys. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than Luka. “Okay.”

Luka leaned back against the piano, folded his arms, and closed his eyes, tuning into the music and the boy who made it. It was all the things he’d expected. Confused, angry, hurt, sad. Luka kept his expression neutral and resisted the urge to sigh. He reminded himself that he’d known it wouldn’t be easy. There wasn’t anything he could say to make this better. 

He just had to be patient. This might have been easier if they hadn’t known each other already; he could have dated Marinette for a while until they were sure they had something serious and then met Louis. At least Luka hadn’t had to deal with every person his mother dated; she only asked him to meet the ones that mattered (though in the end, it turned out none of them had mattered that much). 

But Louis was a smart kid, he already knew something was up, and when in doubt Luka tended to err on the side of openness. In Luka’s experience, secrets almost always hurt worse. 

As he listened to Louis’ song, he was reminded of his conversation with Nicoline and the recorded performance he’d listened to when he got home. Luka had talked to Louis about performing in the recital and hadn’t gotten much more than weary acceptance. Apparently Louis was accustomed to being expected to perform whether he wanted to or not, which told Luka that, much like the younger Adrien, Louis had never performed a piece he was emotionally invested in. Luka hated that, and he didn’t want to ask Louis to perform another soulless piece, even if Louis technically picked it himself.

An idea was forming in his mind, but Luka was going to have to think carefully about it, about whether it was in Louis’ best interests or whether he was letting his own feelings, both old and new, color his judgement. He took a slow, thoughtful breath, tapping his fingers against his arm as he considered.

“Luka?” 

Luka jumped slightly, and realized Louis had stopped playing and was looking at him. “Hey, sorry, man, I had a thought and I zoned out there for a second. I got the gist, though.” He motioned towards the piano bench. “Can I sit now?”

Louis slid over immediately, but Luka didn’t move until he said, quietly. “Yes. Go ahead.” 

“Listen,” he said, “I said we don’t have to talk about anything until you’re ready and I mean that. I just want you to know that nothing that happens in this room changes. Here, it’s about the music and about helping you get to a good place with it. I know maybe it looked like I was off in my own world a bit for a second there, but it’s not because I wasn’t paying attention to you. What I was thinking about just now, that was about the music too. I just need to think about it a little more before we can talk about it, but I promise we will, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly. 

“Do you want to talk about this thing with me and your mom?” Luka asked, stroking his own fingers along the keys for a moment, and then beginning to play absently as he spoke. “Or do you want to wait a little longer? Or maybe do it somewhere that’s not here?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Louis mumbled. “It’s not like it matters what I think.” 

“Of course it does,” Luka said, pausing for a moment to look at him. “What you think always matters, Louis, and you deserve to be heard. So if you have something to say, you tell me so. I can’t say how much it’ll change anything, but I will always hear you and consider what you have to say, okay?”

“Yes,” Louis said after a moment. “That’s what Maman said, too.”

Luka put his hands back on the keys and began to play the turbulent waves of his own emotions, though it didn’t come as naturally to him on the piano as the guitar. “I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, because we’re two different people in different circumstances. But my parents split up when I was little, a few years younger than you, and I know how it felt when other guys started coming around my mom. So I’m not totally clueless here.” He glanced at Louis, and then went on. “I like your mom a lot, and she seems to like me pretty well so far, and it’s going to take a while to find out exactly what that means for all of us. Your mom and I, we have a lot to figure out and we’re going to take our time doing that. That’s what dating is for, you know? Getting to know each other and figuring out whether you can be good together and you want the same things out of life and relationships and whatever, and that takes time. So not a lot’s going to change overnight, okay?”

Louis nodded slowly. “That’s what she told me.” 

“Good,” Luka smiled slightly. “So that part’s between me and her and that’s stuff nobody can figure out but us. You and your mom are a package deal, though, so that means, you and I have stuff that nobody else can figure out either. That’s the good news, though, that you and I get to decide what that means, no one else. I mean, your mom and dad, they’re still your mom and dad and they’re going to make the rules for a while, and you and I, we get to just hang out and get to know each other. And if it turns out we can’t stand each other, well, obviously that’s a problem that we’re all going to have to deal with. But, so far, I think you’re a pretty cool kid, Louis.”

Louis looked up at him sharply, eyebrows soaring, breaking that polite mask into a look of incredulous doubt. “You think I’m cool,” he said in a deadpan voice. 

Luka laughed, actually pleased to see a normal kid expression on Louis’ face. “Why is that a surprise?”

“Nobody thinks I’m cool,” Louis drawled, like Luka was completely dense. “Not sure how you didn’t notice, but I’m a nerd, Luka.” 

Luka was struggling not to completely lose it. “Nerds can be cool,” he managed to say through the suppressed laughter threatening to strangle him. “So what if you’re a nerd? What’s wrong with being passionate about knowledge?” 

“But I’m—” Louis looked down at himself, at his clothes, Luka realized, and made a face. 

“Sophisticated?” Luka grinned. 

Louis gave him an exasperated look. “I look like I tripped and fell off a catalogue page.”

Luka tried not to laugh. “So what?” 

“So I am not cool,” Louis pouted, folding his arms. “I’ll never be cool.” 

“Louis,” Luka chuckled, taking his hands off the keys and turning slightly to face the boy. “The kind of cool I’m talking about isn’t about how you dress or what your hobbies are or what instrument you play.” He nodded at the piano. “It’s about being interesting and fun to be around and putting out good energy to the people around you, and you’ve got all of that. You want me to pick another word, I will, but what you call it isn’t going to change anything.” Luka cocked his head. “Do you want to be different from the way you are?”

“Well…” Louis looked thoughtful, his hand going up to rub the back of his neck in a gesture that Luka immediately recognized. “No? Or maybe...maybe sometimes. Maybe some things. I like most of it, fencing and music and...and school—” He darted a quick look at Luka.

“Nothing wrong with being good at and enjoying all those things,” Luka nodded. “But there’s other things you’d like to try?” Luka suggested. “Including maybe changing up your look?” 

Louis nodded.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Luka said, again having trouble keeping a straight face. “Trying out things is part of growing up. And if you don’t like these supposedly cool things, that doesn’t make you uncool. Uncool is going with things you don’t really like just because you’re trying to fit some image people made up.” He paused for a second, suddenly feeling both an intense sense of deja vu and like he was on dangerous ground, because this time he wasn’t a kid talking to his friend, he was an adult, an authority, talking to a child who wasn’t his own. The last thing he wanted was to upset either of Louis’ parents by encouraging him in the little kid version of a Couffaine-style rebellion, even if he felt like the kid deserved to be a kid a bit more. “If there’s something like that you want to do or try, just tell your parents so,” he said. “Or your therapist, if you don’t feel comfortable going to them right away, and she’ll help you figure out how to ask. It’s her job to help you work through hard stuff like that, right?”

Louis wrinkled his nose slightly. “I can’t tell my mom I want to change the way I dress, she’d be so upset. All the clothes I wear are her clothes.”

“You think so?” Luka asked, slightly surprised, his eyebrows raising. “You think your mom would rather you wear clothes you don’t like and don’t feel good in just to make her comfortable, instead of being honest with her and letting her help you find something you like better?” 

Louis opened his mouth and then shut it again. 

“It’s okay to want things and it’s okay to ask for the things you want,” Luka told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You might not always get them but your parents love you and I know they’ll at least talk about them with you. I might not know your mom as well as you do, but I feel pretty confident she wouldn’t want you to stay silent about something that’s bothering you just to keep from upsetting her. I might be way off base but I bet helping you figure out a look you actually like would be a fun challenge for her.” He shrugged. “Ask her and see. The worst she can say is no, right?” 

“Yeah...maybe…” Louis looked away, reaching for the keys again. He played a simple exercise, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey,” Luka said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “Are we cool? For now, at least?”

Louis took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. For now.” 

“Fair enough,” Luka smiled, letting his hand fall away. “So, we still have a little time left before your dad comes back, let’s get back to the music, shall we? And from now on, anytime you want to talk to me about any of that other stuff, you can call or text. We won’t talk about it again during lessons. I meant what I said. This time is for you and the music and everything else stays outside the door, okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis gave a little smile. 

Luka felt a little encouraged by the talk, and a little relieved that once it was out of the way, they’d been able to fall back into their usual routine for lessons. Guilt descended on him though when Adrien returned to pick Louis up. Both men were nothing less than cordial in front of Louis, but the easy familiarity they’d always had was gone, and Luka was sure Louis sensed the tension between them no matter how the two adults tried to hide it. 

Luka sank back on his couch when they were gone, letting his head fall back against the back. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there just staring at the ceiling, but the sun was down when he finally got up.

***

If he’d had any second thoughts over the next few days, his second date with Marinette renewed his resolve. He took Juleka’s advice and they went to a movie, something not too intense that they could laugh and poke fun at afterwards. Marinette seemed a little more relaxed, and he teased her about her choice of snack foods and she teased him for the way he kept humming the soundtrack over and over.  

If the kisses they shared were softer and maybe a little shyer than before, they were just as sweet, and Luka couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed. They had maybe gone a bit fast for a first date, anyway. If she wanted to slow down a bit, that was fair. He came home smiling again, a little lightness in his heart that couldn’t be crowded out by all his other worries. 

Luka was humming to himself the next day as he let himself into the small cafe and waved to the owner before throwing himself down at a table by the windows and waiting for the company he expected, but who was, as usual, late.

Nicoline Sardou was a tall, angular woman with a commanding presence almost as powerful as her voice. It served her well on stage and in crowds, but she didn’t seem to know how to turn it off (or she chose not to), and being in a small space with her tended to feel overwhelming. She walked into the small cafe like the diva she was, complete with oversized sunglasses and giant, flashing chandelier earrings, and scanned the tables for him. 

Luka waved to get her attention. He saw her chin jerk when she spotted him and chuckled as he watched people practically leap out of her way as she approached. Luka had grown up with Anarka Couffaine, who’d had a different energy but just as much force behind it, and Juleka, who’d had a runway walk so fierce it made everyone in the front rows lean back every time she was on the catwalk, so he wasn’t phased by the aura of mystique she projected, and he always found it mildly entertaining to see other people react to her. 

Besides, he’d known Nicoline since university and it was hard to be intimidated by a woman he’d taken to the emergency room for a fractured coxis when she’d landed on her ass after a botched kegstand. 

“Good to see you, Nic,” he said, standing to greet her. They exchanged a bise and Nicoline squeezed his arm briefly before they sat back down.

“It’s been ages since I saw you last,” she said as they waited for the food they’d ordered. “You’ve barely even been answering my texts.”

Luka sighed and tried to smile. “I’m really sorry about that. I’m trying to be better.”

“You look better,” Nicoline said, tilting her head slightly. “Not so...sleepy. Are you resting better?”

“Sometimes,” Luka shrugged, but he didn’t really want to talk about it just then, even with someone he’d known as long as Nic. “So, Spring Recital,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “I know I haven’t been as engaged as I should and I’m sorry. Can you bring me up to speed on where we’re at?”

“Right,” Nicoline said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a folder, setting things out on the table between them. “I’ve reserved our usual venue and my students have chosen their pieces. Here’s the ones I need backup for.” She slid a list across the table, and then tapped one painted nail on a name. “This is the one I wanted to talk to you about. She’s really good, Luka, probably one of my favorite students I’ve ever taught. I want her to do the showcase piece, but if you don’t have any students who can match up to her, I’d rather use canned music.” 

Luka gave a thoughtful hum, looking at the name and the piece listed next to it. “Do you have—” Nicoline was pushing a CD across the table to him before he even finished speaking. Luka quirked an eyebrow at the choice of medium but picked it up and set it next to him on the table. 

“She’s track six,” Nicoline told him. “You’ll know her when you hear her. I was thinking maybe piano and guitar? Maybe drums if you can keep them from being too heavy.

Luka nodded. “I’ll listen to her and see who I’ve got that matches her style. I’m not going to pressure anyone into it though, Nicoline, you know I don’t believe in that.”

Nicoline waved that away; it was an old argument. Their teaching styles were as different as their personalities, and when they’d first gotten the idea to have Nicoline’s vocal students pair with Luka’s instrumentalists and collaborate on a few recital pieces, it had seemed almost crazy. Luka had always managed to match up groups that worked, though, and he was of the opinion that the students worked a little harder when someone else was counting on them. 

“Just let me know once you’ve got an arrangement put together,” Nic said, “And we can work out a rehearsal schedule.” 

“Who else is on board for the recital?” Luka asked, and they spent the rest of the lunch gossiping about their colleagues. Luka was sadly out of date on the news and he cringed a little as Nicoline related the latest drama to him. He should definitely touch base with some people.

“You want to come home with me?” Nicoline asked as she stirred her drink. “You look better but still like you could stand to lose a little tension.” She offered him a little smile. “And I missed you.” 

Luka shook his head and he could feel his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile too broadly. “I’m actually seeing somebody at the moment.”

“Oooh,” Nicoline raised her eyebrows, a sly grin of her own spreading over her face. “Is it serious?”

“It’s new,” Luka said, avoiding her gaze as he poked at his food, still smiling. “But yeah, it’s pretty serious. For me, anyway. It’s...things are...well—” He bit his lip to stop the fumbling, and shrugged just slightly. “She’s got baggage. And it���s not like I’m exactly rock steady myself right now. So...I think it’s gonna go slow....” He caught Nicoline’s look and grinned sheepishly. “Slow-ish,” he amended. “But…” That smile was trying to break through again. “But I think it’ll be worth it.” 

“Worth it, like, the one worth it?”

Luka made a noncommittal noise but he still couldn’t look her in the face.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Nicoline said, eyes narrowed, and he felt all the force of her personality on him in that moment. “Spill.” 

“Her son is one of my students,” Luka admitted, leaning his chin on his fist.

It was almost comical, how fast Nic’s eyes flew open. She leaned forward slightly. “You’re dating a client?”

“Technically, no,” Luka mumbled. “Technically, her ex-husband is my client.” 

Nicoline didn’t answer for a moment and he flicked his eyes up at her.

“Luka,” Nicoline sighed, shaking her head. “You never do things the simple way.” 

“Never,” he agreed, sitting up straight. “It’s a Couffaine thing.”

Nicoline checked the time on her phone. “I’ve got five minutes. Spill.”

Luka snorted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “No.” He grinned to himself as he counted out the money, watching Nicoline’s mouth drop open in surprise and outrage, and then he stood up and dropped his cash on the table. “See you later, Nic. I’ll be in touch about the group.” He waved the CD at her and turned away, chuckling to himself as he left the cafe.

***

A week later, Luka was looking forward to his third date with Marinette with the same excitement and anticipation fizzing in his veins, but he knew something was wrong as soon as they met up. Marinette was tense, and she couldn’t seem to look at him for very long—but she couldn’t seem to stop looking at him, either. She kept shooting him quick, darting glances that skittered away before he could meet them. He reached for her hand and she let him take it, but her grip in return was weak and he thought maybe she was shaking. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked, when there was a lull in the sidewalk traffic that gave them a quiet moment.

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled up at him, and her hold on his hand got a little tighter. “It’s good.” 

Luka raised his eyebrows slightly as her gaze shifted away again. “Marinette,” he said, letting go of her hand to put his on her shoulder. “Please.” 

“It’s nothing, really, just something I wanted to talk about, but it can wait until we’re settled somewhere. It’s not, um...nothing earth shattering, I promise. I think.”

That was less reassuring than she had probably intended, but Luka did his best to cover his concern until they got to the restaurant they had agreed on. 

They ordered food and tried to chat, but Marinette was distracted and Luka was worried, and they couldn’t seem to keep a topic going. 

“Marinette,” Luka sighed finally, pushing his plate aside to take her hand. “Please just tell me what’s on your mind? Let’s just...deal with whatever it is, okay?” 

“I’m sorry,” Marinette said quickly, her fingers curling tight around his. “I didn’t want to ruin everything, and now I am and—”

“Marinette,” Luka interrupted, “Please. Just tell me.” 

She winced a little at his tone, and he regretted it, but the flightier she acted the more he began to fear the worst. “I just,” she hesitated, and Luka’s worry increased. “I guess I just wanted to know if we’re, um, exclusive? Or are we...not allowed but...I mean are we…” 

Okay, he told himself, that...wasn’t as bad as it could have been. “Do you want to be?” Luka asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. 

“Well I—” Marinette began, and then she looked down, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s just, someone else asked me out, and I realized I didn’t know, um, where you stood on us dating other people besides each other.” She glanced up at him and away, and Luka picked up his drink to give himself something to do while he tried to gather the wits her simple question had just scattered to the wind.

“Well,” he said slowly as he set his glass down. “We’ve only seen each other a few times. I think things are going really well and I hope that will continue, but if you want to see other people too, I wouldn’t feel right telling you not to.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Honestly, it pains me to say this, you probably should, Marinette, if you want to even a little bit. It might be good for you. I don’t want you to have any doubts or regrets.”

“I just can’t help but think...I never really dated anyone but Adrien before, and…” 

“Of course,” Luka nodded, and took her hand. “That makes total sense. So if you want to try going out with some other people, then I’m not going to stand in the way of that. I won’t say I really like it, but I understand.” He gave her a lopsided smile that he hoped didn’t betray him too badly and gave her a quick wink. “I’ll just have to step up my game, that’s all.” 

She squeaked and reached quickly for her water glass, and Luka chuckled in spite of himself. 

He tried to act as normal as he could for the rest of the date, but he knew he was quieter than he had been. He clung to her hand a little tighter, but kept his distance more than he had before, suddenly unsure of himself in a way he wasn’t really accustomed to. Luka couldn’t help feeling like he’d been misreading something, getting more invested than was justified, and all he could do was hold it together as best he could until he could get home and think. 

Their kiss goodnight was soft and sweet and he lingered over it longer than he probably should have, but it was reserved, too, in a way it hadn’t been before now, at least on his part. 

“Luka, is...are you really, okay with what we talked about?” Marinette asked him, her eyes tight.

Luka sighed. Clearly he hadn’t fooled her at all. “In my head, yeah,” he said, looking down at their fingers tangled together. “I know this is the right thing to do and I genuinely want you to be with me because you want to, and not because you just felt like you couldn’t explore other options. At the same time, I’m really into you and my heart and my gut might be having a harder time with it, that’s all. I’ll deal with it.” 

Marinette’s brow creased slightly and she frowned. “If you’re not really okay with this...I really like you too, Luka, and I don’t want to—” 

Luka smiled faintly. “I want you to be happy, Marinette. When you are ready for something more serious, I don’t want you to have any doubts. Figure out what you need, and do it, okay? Thank you for being honest with me about it.” He lifted her hand and stroked his thumb along the ladybug tattoo. “Just...keep me posted? On where we stand.” He hesitated. “Do you still want to go out again next week?”

“Yes,” Marinette said firmly, squeezing his hand. “Definitely.” She tugged him forward a little, and he stepped closer. “Luka, this doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you. I like this, I like what we have. I like you. A lot. And this is definitely not me liking you less as time goes on.” She blushed, dropping her eyes for just a moment before she looked back up at him. “It’s just, it’s like you said. I don’t want to have any doubts. I had such tunnel vision, with...before, and look how it turned out.” Marinette sighed, her brow creasing slightly. “I feel like that could happen again really easily...with you, so…” She bit her lip, eyes searching his face. “But now I’m scared of ruining what we have. Maybe I shouldn’t—what are you doing?” 

Luka drew her close, hands sliding from her waist to the small of her back as he dipped his head towards her. 

“If I’m going to have some competition, I want to make sure I leave an impression,” he breathed, lips brushing hers. “Is that okay?” 

He felt her lips move but no sound came out. “Marinette?” 

She managed to make a noise of assent and nod slightly, and Luka kissed her softly, once, twice, and then more firmly, tasting her with light brushes of his tongue as he coaxed her lips open. Luka kissed her as thoroughly as he knew how, focused on her reactions, intending to do exactly as he said, but also to fill himself with the taste, the feel of her, the sound of her soft noises in his ears, to burn it into his mind against the day when he might have to give it up. Marinette’s fingers curled into his coat and she whimpered softly. He let her turn her head away to gasp for air but pressed his lips into her jaw, and then her neck, and when she gasped his name it was shaky and breathless in a way that made him shiver, but it also held a note of warning that he couldn’t ignore. Luka nuzzled her neck one more time, breathing her in, and pulled back, placing one more soft kiss on her lips before he straightened.  

“Too much?” he asked quietly. “I’m sorry.” 

Marinette shook her head, her cheeks bright pink. “It was a lot, but...not too much. Not from you.” 

That brought the most genuine smile he’d had all evening to his face. “I should go. I’ll text you about next week?” 

Marinette nodded, and rose up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Goodnight, Luka.”

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

Luka rode the subway home in a haze of confused, upset feelings. When he got home he kicked off his shoes and tossed away his jacket, pulling off his shirt on the way to his bedroom. He fell face down onto the bed, his phone gripped tightly in one hand, the edges of it digging into his palm. 

He raised it up and turned his head enough to peek at the time, and then he buried his face in the mattress again. It was late. Juleka would answer, even if she was sleeping, but he couldn’t do that to her. He took a deep breath and rolled over. He unlocked his phone, thumb hovering over Juleka’s number, and then Nicoline’s. She would be awake, but...he didn’t think Nicoline’s brand of support was what he needed right then. He switched to his music app and turned it on, dialing the volume up as high as it would go before setting the phone in the charging dock on his nightstand. He shimmied out of his pants and under the covers, and then curled up, counting the beats of the music and praying for sleep. 

***

It took Luka a few days to get his head together again after the bomb Marinette had dropped on him. He felt stupid, and frustrated, and disappointed (and irrationally angry at Juleka for being right), but he was determined not to let it bring him back down. He wasn’t sure if Marinette had talked to Louis about her intention to date other people. Louis didn’t bring it up at his lesson, so Luka let it lie, figuring it wasn’t his business to mention it if Louis didn’t. 

He felt a little bit better when Marinette called and asked him to go to a concert with her. The musician was a client and had given Marinette tickets, and she thought of him, so if he wasn’t busy, although it wasn’t really his style of music and maybe he wouldn’t be interested, but if he was, she really would rather go with him than anyone else, and— 

Luka was laughing by the time she paused long enough for him to accept her offer, and teased her about implying he was a music snob, and eventually she recovered from her spluttering to tease him back, and by the time Luka hung up the phone he was smiling. She thought of him, she invited him, and that was enough to help him find his resolve, and determine to put truth to what he’d said to her about stepping up his game. 

He focused his mind back on his work, and work found him sitting in a boring little bar in a neighborhood full of high rise office complexes. 

Luka had taken his time with this decision—almost too much time, if he wanted the kids to be ready in time, but he still tapped his fingers nervously on the table while he waited. It wasn’t a particularly ritzy bar, but Luka felt very out of place in this crowd. It wasn’t his normal hour to be out and the place was full of businessmen getting off work for the day.

Luka didn’t actually have to be here. Technically, he could have had this conversation over the phone, or even over email, but he wanted to do it in person. Luka wasn’t sure if he was in for an argument or not but he’d get a better read of the situation face to face. 

He was expecting it to be...awkward, though, after their last conversation. 

“So much for  you don’t have to talk to me for a while,” Adrien grumbled, dropping into the chair across from Luka.

It had been several weeks, but Luka could understand that it probably didn’t seem like long enough to Adrien. “I’ll be quick,” Luka said, leaning his elbows on the table. “Drink? On me.”

“God yes.” Adrien flagged down a server and ordered a drink that made Luka raise his eyebrows slightly. “It’s the end of the work day and I’m not driving,” Adrien defended himself, and Luka shrugged.

“Just not the kind of thing you usually drink,” he commented, voice carefully neutral. 

“Yeah, well, it’s been a while since we got a drink together,” Adrien snorted as the server returned and tapped the glass down in front of him. Luka was mildly amused at the prompt service; Adrien’s rich guy vibe was palpable, apparently. Or maybe he was a regular here, since it was near the office. “Now what do you want?” Adrien demanded, picking up his drink.

“I wanted to ask,” Luka said, curling his fingers in as he realized they were still drumming on the table, “If you’re still on that whole ‘Agrestes are soloists,’ thing your dad was so dead set on.” 

Adrien’s expression didn’t change other than the slight raise of his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because an opportunity has come up for Louis—”

“No,” Adrien interrupted, putting his glass down. “No way. Marinette and I agreed before he was born, no opportunities until—”

“Let me finish,” Luka broke in, raising his hands slightly, and Adrien pressed his lips together. “Sorry,” Luka continued. “I forgot that might be a loaded word for you. Not that kind of opportunity, not a money-making type thing. Just, a chance to play as part of a group in the Spring Concert. I have a colleague looking for a group to back one of her singers. I’ve got a few students in mind and I think Louis would be a good fit for them. But before I even brought it up to him, I wanted to run it by you. I don’t want to get him excited about something you might not approve of.”

“As if you ever cared about anyone’s approval,” Adrien snorted, and Luka shrugged.

“It’s different when you’re working with kids,” Luka pointed out. “I don’t make decisions about what’s right for other people’s children. I’m just his teacher. You're his father.” At Adrien’s sharp look, he added, “That won’t change no matter what happens between me and Marinette. You’ll always be his father.” 

“I know that,” Adrien growled, picking up his drink and hiding behind it. Luka fought the urge to roll his eyes. After a minute, Adrien put the glass down with a little more force than necessary. “I’m not my father,” he said bitterly. 

Luka raised his eyebrows. “I know that,” he echoed.

“Do you?” Adrien sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Does anybody?” 

“Do you?” Luka asked, before he could think better of it, and stiffened slightly when Adrien’s eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Look, Adrien, I—” 

“Don’t,” Adrien snapped. “Just don’t, Luka. I know you lost your mom unexpectedly too and all, but don’t try to tell me you understand.” He turned his face away, blinking rapidly as he took a large swallow of his drink. 

“Okay,” Luka said softly, looking at the table and turning his glass absently. “I won’t. I don’t.” He closed his lips on whatever else he wanted to say. At least you got to bury a body, he thought bitterly, but he knew that was unfair. Luka had always had very black and white feelings about Adrien’s relationship with his father, and he was beginning to suspect Marinette did also, but Adrien had never been able to see it that way and had ignored or resented any suggestion that he really didn’t owe his father the kind of loyalty he’d been trained to show. Adrien had spent his whole life waiting for...something. Some kind of catharsis. Some acknowledgement from his father. Some kind of confrontation that would end with a hug and an apology and the snooty rich person equivalent of “you did good son.” 

It was never going to happen, even while Gabriel was alive, but there wasn’t even the remotest hope of it now that he was gone. And now it was all tangled into some vague wish of following the path his father would have wanted like the good son that he was. The good son Gabriel had never acknowledged him to be. 

It was sad. It was also, Luka couldn’t help feeling, raised to independence and free will as he had been, a little pathetic.

It was maybe a little easy for Luka to say, though, just like it was easy for Adrien to feel like Luka’s pain was less because Luka had been close to his mother and always knew where he stood with her. 

Luka shoved aside uncharitable thoughts about how little difference there was in Gabriel’s presence in Adrien’s life whether he was dead or alive, and how much one could possibly miss someone who had never bothered to be there in the first place, and wrenched his mind back to the issue at hand. 

“Look,” he sighed, “If you’re not completely opposed to the idea, just think about it and call me before Louis’ next lesson. I think it would be good for him to play with other kids, to have a chance to interpret a piece of music into something he’s excited about playing and performing, start seeing music as a way to connect with people, but like I said, I’m not even going to bring it up if it’s not something you’re going to be on board with.” 

Adrien looked at him with an expression Luka couldn’t quite parse. “Did you ask Marinette?” 

Luka shook his head. Adrien might not believe it but Luka had no desire to cause problems between the two of them. He wasn’t sure how Adrien would react to the proposition, but he had a pretty good idea how Marinette would react if she found out Adrien had kept Louis from doing something because Gabriel Agreste wouldn’t have liked it. Luka had no interest in provoking that fight—at least not right now. 

Adrien looked away and said nothing for a long moment. “I heard,” he said finally, still not looking at Luka, “I heard Marinette’s going out with one of the accounting consultants this weekend.” He glanced at Luka. “Office gossip, you know. And Nino let slip that she was seeing someone else last week.” 

Luka just looked back at him, careful to show no reaction. Whoever else she was seeing, Marinette was still making time to go out with him pretty consistently, but that wasn’t really Adrien’s business. Just like it was none of Luka’s business, for the moment, who she was seeing besides him. He half expected Adrien to make some kind of crack at his expense, but Adrien just shook his head, getting up from the table. 

“If Louis wants to do it that’s fine with me,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “I’m not my father, and Louis isn’t me. And…” He hesitated, pulling some money out of his wallet and dropping it on the table. “I brought him to you for a reason,” he said finally. “If you think it would be good for him then I trust your judgement. He’ll have plenty of chances for solos in the future, I’m sure,” he added, almost to himself.

Luka rolled his eyes, though he had no doubt Adrien was right. He kept his mouth shut, though, as Adrien made his way out of the bar. Luka paid the tab and left, leaving Adrien’s money on the table. 

When he got home, he sat down at his table and took out his phone. He stared at it for a moment, and then dialed Marinette’s number. He half expected voicemail, but just before it would have clicked over, the call went active, and there was a sudden thud and crash and “Oh shit!”

Luka was laughing when Marinette finally came on the line with a breathless, “Hi Luka!” that made his heart flutter.

“Hi Marinette,” he chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, still panting. “Just, um, I almost didn’t hear it, and then I tripped, and when I went to grab it I knocked it off my work table, and—um, anyway you called so…” 

“I did,” Luka smiled, “And I would have called back. You didn’t have to half kill yourself to get to the phone.” 

“Well, I...it might have been important!” He could almost imagine the way she blushed and pouted as she said it. 

“Is this an okay time?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair and trying to collect his thoughts. “I just wanted to run something by you about Louis.” 

“Oh,” Marinette said, and Luka might have imagined it but he thought she sounded disappointed. “Okay. Y-yeah, now’s fine. What’s going on?”

Luka explained, unsurprised when Marinette asked quite a few more questions than Adrien. 

“Well, it sounds fine to me,” Marinette said at last. “I’m not a musician and you’re his teacher, so if you think he’s up to it and that it will help him, I’m happy for him to play with the group.” She hesitated. “I’m not sure how Adrien will feel about it though.” 

“I already talked to Adrien,” Luka admitted. “I know that was kind of a thing with his dad—it’s why he pulled him out of the band, or so he said at the time, so I wanted to get a read on where Adrien stood. He said he was okay with it as long as Louis wanted to do it.” 

“Oh,” Marinette sighed. “That’s a relief. I mean, he loves Louis and he always has Louis’ best wishes at heart, but—” She cut off and sighed. 

“But he was brainwashed for twenty-five years by his asshole father and sometimes his sense of reality is warped by his incomprehensible loyalty to the man’s memory?” Luka suggested sardonically. 

“At least someone can say it,” Marinette laughed, sounding a little guilty as she did. “But...yeah, basically. I’m glad to hear he didn’t put up a fuss. Thanks for, um...thanks for talking to him about it. I could have, but—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Luka shrugged. “It’s my job. Okay, if both of you are on board then I’ll talk to Louis about it at our next lesson.”

“Okay, sounds good,” Marinette agreed, and a slightly awkward pause ensued. Luka was opening his mouth to tell her goodbye when she suddenly said in a rush, “So, um...how was your day?” 

Luka blinked, and then smiled, tracing the pattern of the wood grain on his table with his finger. “It wasn’t bad. I have a kid that’s been struggling with a piece and she really made a breakthrough today, and that’s always nice. How was yours? Or should I say, how is yours, are you still at work?”

“Yes and no,” Marinette replied, and there was some noise on the other end of the line, like she was moving things around. “I’m not at work, but I’m working in my home office. Louis is with Adrien tonight, you know, so I thought I’d get some work done, because I’m a little behind after all the chaos earlier.”

“Rough day up until now, huh?” 

“Crazy,” Marinette groaned. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to deal with this morning…” 

Luka smiled, settling back in his chair as Marinette began to rant in extremely entertaining terms about some mix up that had happened on the production floor that day. It reminded him of something that had happened on the boat years ago, and they chatted back and forth until Marinette yawned and Luka suddenly realized he was starving. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” Marinette gasped. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long—I didn’t realize it was so late.” 

“Me neither,” Luka chuckled. “But I don’t mind.” 

“You’re so easy to talk to,” Marinette sighed. “I wish…”

“You wish what?” Luka asked, when she didn’t continue, his pulse picking up a little.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, and Luka suspected from the tone of her voice that she was blushing. “Never mind.”

“Hey, do you maybe want to grab coffee tomorrow?” Luka asked on impulse. “I’ve got students in the afternoon, but in the morning—” 

“I can’t,” Marinette nearly whined, and Luka bit down on a smile that wanted to become a laugh. “I’d really love to, but I can’t. I have um—plans already. For brunch.” She sighed like she was genuinely disappointed.  

“Okay,” he said, smile fading slightly. “Some other time then.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said unhappily. “Some other time. Soon.” 

“Soon, for sure,” Luka said quickly, the smile coming back a bit. “Goodnight, Marinette.” 

“Goodnight, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and though he preferred hearing her happy, it gave him a little flutter that she seemed so reluctant to say it. 

***

“Hey, man,” Luka grinned, crouching down to get a better look at Louis. “Spiderman, I like it.” He indicated the shirt under Louis’ button-down. Instead of his usual green Gabriel brand t-shirt, he sported black t-shirt with a red spiderman emblem on his chest. Louis grinned broadly and shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Really?” he asked shyly. 

“Yeah,” Luka nodded. “That’s from the new movie, right? The animated one?”

“Yeah,” Louis lit up. “It’s sooooo good!” He paused. “It’s not exactly new, though. It’s been out on Blu-Ray for a while already.” 

“Man, I’m so out of touch,” Luka sighed with a lopsided smile. “The soundtrack is killer, I just never made the time to actually watch the movie. I didn’t realize it had been so long.” He leaned forward a little. “Your mom didn’t give you too much grief right? Do I need to talk to her?” He glanced up over Louis’ shoulder and winked at Marinette.

“Nah, my mom’s the best,” Louis beamed, looking back at her. Marinette blushed, and Luka coughed to cover a laugh. 

“All right, go on back,” Luka told Louis, squeezing his shoulder as he stood up. “Warm up while we wait, the others should be here soon.” 

“Okay!” Louis went around him, heading for the music room. 

Luka looked back at Marinette, who was shaking her head at him. 

“Charmer,” she accused, and Luka grinned, spreading his hands. 

“I’m only charming because I’m honest.” 

“And cute,” Marinette wrinkled her nose at him. 

“Guilty,” Luka winked. “But don’t tempt me while I’m on the clock. I’m still a professional here.”

“Right,” Marinette said, reaching up to smooth her hair as she blushed. “Sorry.” She shuffled back a step, but didn’t turn to go. For a moment they just looked at each other, neither sure what to say. Piano music floated down the hallway; Louis hadn’t shut the studio door, and Luka laughed to himself as he recognized the tune of What’s Up Danger. “Wonder where he found piano music for that,” he murmured to himself, and Marinette giggled. 

“The internet, probably. He’s pretty resourceful when he wants to be. Or maybe Adrien helped him find it.” She shook her head. “I should be mad at you,” she said, poking him lightly. “You could have warned me. About the whole ‘new look’ thing.”

“Ah, I probably should have,” Luka sighed, dropping his head back. “Sorry. I forgot. I don’t know, though, maybe it’s better this way. That he talked to you about it himself. Sorry if he blindsided you, though.” 

Marinette shrugged. “It was a surprise, but it shouldn’t have been. He’s getting old enough to have opinions of his own on that kind of thing. I’m just happy he’s still willing to work with me on it. I don’t mind designing something more to his taste but I’d be pretty depressed if he refused to wear anything I made.” 

“Why would he do that?” Luka grinned. “His mom’s the best.”

Marinette blushed again and put a hand over her face. “Stoooop,” she whined, and Luka chuckled. 

“Yeah, I better.”

A familiar pattern knocked on the door before Marinette could answer, and Marinette stepped aside so Luka could open it. 

“JP,” Luka grinned, greeting the boy standing there with a complicated high-five hand-shake fist bump. He raised a hand and waved to JP’s aunt, who waved back out of the car window before driving off, swerving around the town car still waiting for Marinette at the curb. 

“I should—I should go,” Marinette said, squeezing past him and backing down the walk. “I’ll be back to pick up Louis later. Obviously.” Luka caught her arm and she blinked up at him.

“Step,” he reminded her with a lopsided smile, and she flushed as she took the small step down before pulling her arm away. “See you later,” he said, and she turned and waved awkwardly. Luka lingered on the doorstep, watching her get back in the car. 

A cough by his elbow wiped the goofy smile off his face. Luka looked down and saw JP looking back at him with raised eyebrows. “Inside, punk, come on,” Luka muttered, shoving at the kids shoulder, and JP snickered as he went past him. 

“Louis,” Luka called as they neared the studio, and the piano music stopped. “This is Jean-Paul Locke.”

“Louis Agreste,” Louis said formally, getting up from the piano bench and holding his hand out. JP gave Luka a look that asked, ‘Is this guy for real?’ but at Luka’s nod, he reached forward and shook Louis’ hand.

“Call me JP,” he said—mumbled, really, keeping his head down. Then he glanced up and smiled a little. “I like your shirt.”  

“Thanks,” Louis grinned. “I like your shoes.” 

JP grinned back, shuffling his graffitied kicks. “Thanks.”

“Get plugged in and tune up, JP,” Luka said, and JP let the guitar case he was carrying slide off his back. “I want you guys to listen to something.” 

He got out the CD Nicoline had given him and put it in the player, watching the boys out of the corner of his eye. JP was a couple of years older than Louis, and while Luka had a complicated relationship with the word ‘prodigy,’ it fit more than it didn’t. Luka tried not to have favorite students, but JP was...a kindred spirit. He might struggle more than Louis with the technical part of making music, but Luka had never heard him play anything that didn’t come from his heart. He made everything he played his own, and Luka felt Louis had the same potential. He was hoping JP’s example would help Louis connect with his own music. 

When JP looked up from his guitar, Luka started the music. 

Nicoline hadn’t been lying about how good her student was. Her voice was clear and powerful, though still not quite mature, but she had that something that just hit you in the gut. Luka agreed with Nic, she was the real deal, and when he looked at the boys, he had to smile. Louis’ eyes were round, and JP looked impressed. 

“Shit,” commented JP, when the music ended. Louis’ mouth dropped open and he turned to stare at the older boy. Luka sighed and smacked the back of JP’s head on his way to shut off the player. 

“Come on, man, don’t make me be the swear police,” Luka admonished, and JP hunched slightly. 

“Sorry. Just. Pretty nice pipes, that’s all.” 

Luka hummed agreement, hooking a rolling stool with his foot and pulling it underneath him so he could sit and face the boys. “So, that’s the assignment. I want you guys to back Dez in the Spring Concert, if you’re up for it.” 

“Dez?” JP snickered, and Luka rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Jean-Paul,” Luka said, with a pointed look and JP made a face. “So,” he continued. “Let’s see what you guys can do together.”

Louis and JP looked at each other, and back at Luka, and he just grinned. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, leaning back on his stool and waving towards the piano. “Play.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Whatever you want. Just jam together for a bit.” 

“But…” Louis began, looking between Luka and JP. 

“Talk about it,” Luka encouraged. “Work it out. Or, you know, one of you can just start playing and the other one can join in. Go for it.” 

The boys just stood there, and finally JP rubbed a hand through his spiked hair. “You, um. You know Fallout Boy?” 

Louis perked up. “Like, Big Hero 6?” He went to the piano and played a section of Immortals. Luka brought up a hand to rub his chin, covering his smile. 

“Wow, you’re kind of a nerd, huh?” JP chuckled, but he went and perched on the piano bench, kicking his amp cord out of the way. “Sweet. Keep going, but pick up the tempo a bit.” He began tapping a rhythm out on the floor with his foot, and Louis increased his pace to match it. “Yeah, yeah,” JP muttered, bobbing his head, and his fingers began to move on the guitar. Louis looked at him, mouth dropping open slightly, and missed a note. Flushing at the mistake, he turned quickly back to his own playing. 

Luka let the boys have fun for a little while, and then gave them the music they would actually be using for the spring concert, explaining that he wanted the boys to learn it as written first, and then they could talk about any changes or creative flairs they wanted to try. 

JP’s aunt was there on the dot to pick him up, and he said goodbye to Louis with an easy grin, swatting Louis’ offered handshake away in favor of a fist bump. Louis was still at the piano when Marinette arrived a few minutes later. He jumped up from the bench, ran two steps, then remembered himself and did sort of an awkward power-walk to the door. “Come on, Maman, I gotta go home and practice some more!” he said, the written music held tightly in his hand. He remembered Luka and paused just long enough to say goodbye before opening the door himself and speeding towards the car.

“He looks really excited,” Marinette giggled, following him out of the door a few steps. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting, the first time you play with somebody you really vibe with,” Luka chuckled, leaning on the door frame. “Good, that’s what we want to see. Now I just gotta find them a drummer.” His thoughts wandered for a moment as he considered the possibilities, and when he focused on Marinette again she was smiling at him with a soft look in her eyes that made him swallow. “Can I call you later?” he asked impulsively, and she blinked back to reality, cheeks tinting pink when she realized what he’d said. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she replied, and looked like she might have said more, but Louis was suddenly hanging out of the car window, yelling for her to hurry up. Marinette’s lips pursed in a frustrated (but cute) pout. “Rude,” she called back to Louis, who rolled his eyes and popped back in the window. It was more like a kid than Luka had ever seen him act and he couldn’t help laughing, which caused Marinette to turn that pout on him. 

Luka entertained a brief fantasy of completely grossing Louis out by kissing her stupid right there on the step, but instead he said quickly. “You better go. I’ll call you later. Bye, Marinette.” 

He stepped back inside, barely managing to wait for her soft, “Bye, Luka,” and for her to walk back to the car before he shut the door and scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. They were supposed to go out again the following week, and he really wasn’t sure he could wait that long. 

***

A few nights later, he was about to go to bed when someone knocked, loudly, on his front door. Frowning, Luka went to open it, thinking perhaps a neighbor had gotten locked out or something. 

He had the barest instant to take in Marinette standing on his doorstep, styled and made up and wearing a distractingly well-fitting black dress and a distressed expression, before she burst out, “I don’t want to see anybody else.” She stood there, shifting from foot to foot and breathing fast, and for a moment Luka could only stare, blinking stupidly, and Marinette opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up a hand and stopped her, stepping back and motioning her inside.

Marinette swallowed whatever she’d been about to say and stepped inside. Luka closed the door behind her and took her hands, drawing her further inside so they weren’t standing in the echoing hallway. “Okay,” he said, squeezing her hands. “What’s going on?” 

“I just, um...I had a date tonight and…” 

“Did he hurt you?” Luka demanded, face darkening. 

Marinette’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. “No! No, no, of course that’d be the first thing you asked with me showing up like this and—No, I promise it was nothing like that, it was fine, actually, it was all fine—good, even, but...I just…” Marinette shrugged helplessly. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Luka said, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing lightly. 

To his surprise she took a step forward and slipped her arms around him and squeezed tight, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is now.” 

Luka was still extremely confused, but he put his arms around her and held her until she squirmed to get free, pulling away from him. He let her go and she took a step back and a deep, shuddering breath, and then put her hands out to him. Luka wrapped his own around them, rubbing the backs lightly with his thumbs, and waited. 

“This was maybe the...fourth guy I’ve gone out with?” Marinette frowned in thought. “Something like that. And...they’ve all been fine. It’s like you said, you know, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I had fun, mostly, but…” She flushed suddenly and bit her lip, looking away. Luka squeezed her hands gently. 

“I kept thinking how much more fun I’d be having if I was with you,” she said finally, quietly. “Even tonight, this guy, it was our third date, and he was nice enough, just...he wasn’t you, and when he tried to kiss me, I just...I didn’t want to. And then I got in the cab to go home and instead I came here.” She took a deep breath and looked up into his face. “I know you said I should date other people—” 

“Only if that was what you wanted,” Luka broke in, squeezing her hands a little tighter, trying not to show how his own heart had begun racing, the fluttery feeling in his belly.

“It’s not. I don’t want to, Luka. I just...I just want to b-be with you,” she stammered a bit, turning red again. “I, um, oh, shit, ” she hissed, stamping her foot and looking away from him, and Luka had to bite his lip to contain the laughter that wanted to burst from him. 

“Take your time,” he said, not entirely without chuckling. 

“I don’t want to date anybody else,” Marinette said, looking up to his face and suddenly looking very calm. “I just want to see where this takes us. I don’t want to have plans when you ask me to get coffee. Well, what I mean is, I don’t want to waste time I could be spending with you with someone else.” She paused, and then added in a rush, “And I really want you to be the one kissing me.” 

Luka nodded slowly, a smile growing on his face. “I’m cool with all of that,” he said, and then added, “More than cool. I’m really happy, Marinette.” 

“So, we can, um, be a couple?” she dropped her gaze, but he could see her smile. “Um, exclusively?” 

“We can be whatever you want,” he said, letting go of her hand to brush his thumb along her cheek. She looked up again and his thumb brushed her lower lip, sending a jolt through him. “I’m good with whatever label you want to put on us,” he continued, a little roughly, and he had to clear his throat. “I didn’t want to say it at the time because—well, I’ve been told I can get a little intense and I didn’t want to freak you out, but I was never planning on dating anybody else. I’m in this to the end, whatever that turns out to be. I want to be the one kissing you, for as long as you’ll let me.” He took a breath. “Was that too much?” 

“No,” Marinette murmured, her free hand coming up to curl around his wrist. “You are intense, that’s true, but...I like it. I like it a lot, Luka. I always appreciate how patient and careful you are with me but I think there’s something you need to understand about me.” She took a step forward and leaned gently into him. “I overthink things a lot, and sometimes I get nervous and run off at the mouth, and I definitely have some issues around relationships and intimacy, but...I’m not fragile. I can handle you. If it gets too much, I’ll tell you, but...I’m not really worried. Not about that, at least.” She sighed and slid her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Now I left the taxi waiting, so can you walk me to the door and then I can get my goodnight kiss from the man I really wanted it from? From...my boyfriend?” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “That sounds so...high school.” 

“I like it,” Luka said roughly, pressing his forehead to hers. “I like it a lot.” 

“Then it’ll do,” she whispered, and then slid her hands to his shoulders. “Now walk me to the door because if I kiss you here I’ll never make it home.”

“That’s a problem?” Luka only half joked as she took his hands again and tugged him along. “Hey, who’s walking who here?” 

“You weren’t moving,” she giggled. 

“Why would I want you to leave?” he teased. 

“Mm, so I can go brag to everybody about my hot new boyfriend?” Marinette leaned back against the door, pulling him closer with a double handful of his t-shirt. 

“Now that really does sound like high school,” Luka laughed, bracing one hand against the door as he leaned over her. Marinette tipped her head up, and he kissed those red lips, reveling in the way she sighed and pressed into him, in her lush, full lips, the smooth softness of her cheek and neck under his rough fingers as his thumb traced the elegant line of her jaw. Then her lips parted under his and she reached up and laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him down into her, and she shifted her weight off the door until she was pressed against him. Luka slipped his hand from her face to wrap around her waist and pull her even closer, his hand still on the door steadying them both and grounding him, giving him the strength to finally pull back when he really would just as soon have suffocated if it meant kissing her a little longer. It took more than a moment for them to both catch their breath, both taking in each other’s disheveled appearances. Luka in his significantly more rumpled pajamas, the faintest trace of her expensive lipstick staining his mouth, his eyes hooded and his hair a wreck, and Marinette’s gorgeous blue eyes gone glassy and dark, her delectable mouth kiss-bruised, and—okay she really, really needed to go right now. Apparently she reached the same conclusion at that moment, because she reached back and fumbled for the door handle. Luka got there first and opened it for her. 

“Text me, let me know you got home safe?” he managed to get out, aware that he was grinning like a fool. 

“I will,” she flashed a bright smile at him that made his racing heart skip several beats, and he watched her until she was in the taxi before closing the door with a sigh. 

No way he was sleeping now. Luka went straight for his guitar.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | AO3

[donnerpartyofone]

working for a giant corporation taught me some really crazy things about myself and others. for instance, i think that if you grow up as like a responsible little goody two shoes like myself, you develop this delusion that people in high-powered jobs are mature and intelligent in proportion to how far up the ladder they are, because how else could they possibly have become the boss of everybody? in reality there is absolutely no such correlation between mental and social ability, and what you get to do, and actually i think that most people in a position of authority get there by being so thin-skinned and intolerable when they’re not satisfied that people just give them stuff to get them to shut up. but i digress. what i’m really thinking about is the shocking realization that older, more experienced, more “qualified” people (or just as bad, people who appear to be on exactly the same level as you) don’t read. i mean, they just will never read an entire email. i used to write these emails that included every single piece of information the person might need to know about whatever the subject was; not that they were pages long, but they’d introduce the topic, ask my main 2-3 questions, and include whatever the person might need to know in order to answer me, if there was anything extra that they shouldn’t know already. then i started to realize that no matter what i did to try to finish the conversation in as few emails as possible, the person would like, read the first line, respond only to that in a confusing incomplete way, and then later get mad because i “never told them” all the stuff i explained in that first message. so, i had to learn to start dumbing down everything i wrote until it was like something i would send to a child, in the simplest terms possible and never with more than one piece of information OR one question at a time. i found it pretty disturbing to have to do this, just like i found it disturbing that in this day and age you really HAVE to use stupid little smiley face emoji in a professional environment or else no one is capable of figuring out if you’re like furiously screaming at them or not. even though some people are legitimately so busy and overwhelmed that you have to spoonfeed them information for both your sakes, these experiences can go a long way toward making you feel like everyone you work for is a fucking idiot and they shouldn’t be allowed to push you around and condescend to you if they can’t even fucking read as well as you apparently do.

anyway this isn’t exactly the same thing AT ALL but last week i sent a tattoo proposal to this person who is a really successful, sophisticated artist. it’s not my first time at the rodeo, or even at that specific shop, so i bulleted the stuff that has to go into every proposal, and added whatever extra description i thought was necessary. admittedly there was a bunch of that, because what i wanted them to do was a little complex, like i want an existing image but in a different style, and i wanted to be as clear as possible about that. the other unusual thing i did was to send a link to my reference images (all in one place after the jump), instead of attaching them--part of what i sent was a video showing the available space on my arm (i needed to turn my arm over to show the whole spot), and i couldn’t email it, so this seemed like an ok solution. this is starting to sound like a lot but it really wasn’t, it was like, read a half-page email with clear bullet points and then follow a link. about a week passed (that part is normal), and then i noticed that they sent me a DM over instagram, from a blank account i guess they keep for this purpose. that was weird since we’d never interacted over there, and also since they didn’t respond to my email; why would this be easier? so then i look, and there’s no message, they just forwarded me their booking faq--which outlines exactly what i did. i don’t know what they think i didn’t send already--i’m guessing they didn’t like or didn’t notice the photo link but i can’t be sure because they didn’t say anything--but it was all in my email. suddenly i found myself back in that office mentality. do i

a) resend everything in a different format, to try to figure out what email style works best for them? understanding that it’s always possible they won’t get it the second time either, for some reason? or b) reply that i already DID read the faq and i sent them exactly what it asked for, so they should just look at my email again, in a tone that magically doesn’t make me sound mad or rude?

OR, let’s say i don’t want to do this with them anymore because i’m worried about letting someone modify my body when we’re already struggling to communicate. like to be honest it bothered me that they didn’t type anything, even like “your message is missing stuff, read the faq and try again”, and/or “i’m sending my faq over instagram so check your DMs.” also they sent the faq as photos over DM so they expire; i thought to take screenshots, but if i hadn’t, i’d be fucked. so, i think now i have to figure out how to terminate this. do i

1) reply to the DMs, or to my email which i guess they got even though they switched channels on me, and make a formal declaration that i’m not going to pursue this with them so there’s no further confusion, or 2) just ghost, because who really cares, and they’re probably really busy anyway, which would explain everything that happened/didn’t happen.

i wish i didn’t agonize over stuff like this but that’s just my deal. this is slightly like when i realized that now some professionals only write in this infantile internet speak, which has the dual effect of making me feel strangely uncool even if they’re older and dorkier than me, and also like i’m just not sure if they’re actually reading and understanding what i tell them because their responses are in like baby talk. i think it’s becoming obvious that the answer is 2 just forget all about this, i already thought of someone else for this project anyway and it’s too anxious-making for me to figure out someone’s love language or whatever just so i can tailor all my messages to them. probably a lot of people would just drop it without even worrying about it. i just wish i gave less of a shit about things in general.

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 3]

(I am /so sorry/ it got this long. I lost track of it. I had enough for two chapters if I added a bit more but I figured one giant one wouldn’t be bad. I just got too into it. I’ll set an alarm next time for ‘hamburger’ and follow time management skills of the protagonist. And for the record... this is the story of Y/N, not Detective Loki. Which I like. Sure, they’re paired up but... it’a a story. And maybe something more happens. Guess you have to read.)

Catch up: [[Part 1]]// [[Part 2]]// [[drabble]]

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k {{I AM SO SORRY}}

Warnings: Language, description of violence {{assume that’s a given}}

Sleep wasn’t something that had ever come easy to Y/N. No, she had spent her time in undergrad preparing for graduate school, graduate school preparing for her application to the FBI. Time training at the FBI training to become a profiling agent. Once, when awake at 2 in the morning, sitting on the couch, her ex-boyfriend had asked her to come to bed. She had spoken without even looking up, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

She wasn’t kidding.

They broke up shortly after.

It was arguably harder to sleep now because her brain was always processing information. It was hard to make sense of something so seemingly senseless. And now she had a pile of information that didn’t even add up. More frustrating was having to wait for the lab reports to come back and for forensics to identify everything and tag it. She supposed evidence would come to light in the morning.

Her room in the Holiday Inn was hardly spectacular, to say the least, but it was fine. It had a queen sized bed, a large desk for her to sprawl her things out on, and a place to put her suitcase with the exact amount of clothing she’d need, plus an extra set just in case. Once upon a time she had been the person to travel with seven bags and joke “you never know!” but those days had passed. She had learned that carrying essentials, and sometimes even less, was the way you lived. It made her yearn for that oversized blue hoodie she had stolen from some ex-boyfriend (maybe that asshole who told her to come to bed) that was sentimental only because she wanted it to be. And that thing was durable as hell.

She had slept like a rock that night, for the first time in ages, which was unsettling when she finally did wake up. It didn’t mean her brain hadn’t processed the information, though. Her process meant that when she did wake up, after her shower and getting dressed in clothes too casual for an FBI agent, that she’d come up with new thoughts. New concerns. New ideas.

By the time Y/N rolled into the precinct, it was still only 7:30am. She had a cup of coffee in her hands that she’d scored from the sad and emotionally draining continental breakfast offered by the hospitable Holiday Inn. But food was food and all she’d really wanted was that bagel and a hard boiled egg. Now she had consumed at least two cups with the third in a travel tumbler she brought with her. Her office one, the black one that said nothing but had a small crack at the top was nestled safely in her cabinet at home. That small apartment with a weird amount of locks on it and a keypad she had. Just in case.

Placing her bag on the small table, she glanced to the side and saw Detective Loki at his desk, hunched over and looking at files. He had a powder blue shirt on this time, and looked cleaned up, meaning he’d at least been home, but she suspected he’d had significantly less sleep than her. Which made sense.

The note left at the front of the church had indeed been for him.

My deepest regards and thoughts for you on this anniversary. 

It had seemed to rattle the man initially, his eyes blinking almost non-stop. Twenty seconds and he composed himself. Twenty seconds and Y/N knew not to ask and she knew not to pry. His file had so much in it, but now was not the time. If it had been relevant to the case beyond wanting an emotional connection to David, he would have said so.

Laying out some files and opening her laptop, she stood as it booted up, walking over to Detective Loki and knocking softly on the table, “Morning, Detective,” she smiled cautiously, unsure of how to greet the man. He was still wary and they were still both digesting all of yesterday.

He looked up, hardly shaken, looking tired but nothing dramatic. He sat up and nodded, glancing at his computer to get a sense of the time. Raising an eyebrow, he turned back, “You’re here early.”

She grinned, “One to talk. Did you sleep much?” Normally she might have said it was small talk, though in this instance she found she truly cared. Shared trauma did that. Or maybe it was something else.

A soft, quick laugh left his lips and he stood, mostly to stretch himself out, “I slept. Any is better than none, right? Maybe I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he grinned at his own dark humor, gathering his things and walking towards the conference room, the young woman following behind, chalking it up to coincidence. Everyone said that.

He glanced at the papers on the table and her laptop loaded, “Any emails come through yet on the case?” Obviously the answer was no, because normal people rested at night and the lab worked on normal hours, but he liked to think that every once in a while, people stayed late and did their jobs the way he did.

Taking a breath she sat on the uncomfortable plastic chair, signing in to the database remotely, “Nothing as of this morning. The lab spent the evening processing the materials, though. One benefit of Feds, right? We have people who work around the clock,” she smirked at him, David almost surprised that perhaps she had read his mind, too. Though in reality she was used to this. Small towns or even cities often backlogged, suddenly given resources they weren’t used to.

A small ‘ding’ went off from inside the bag, Y/N quick to fish around inside for it, “Do you just… not carry your things on you?” Detective Loki didn’t mean to sound condescending, though his tone certainly spoke that way. More than anything he was concerned. Why she didn’t have her weapon holstered on her person or even her phone in her pocket said there was a level of disconnect. And there was. She liked to process in her head and her phone took her away from that.

Ignoring the snide remark, she glanced at the text that had popped up, “Check your email, ladybug. Fast tracked some of that forensic work for you.”

Ding.

“No offense but does that precinct always work so slow? We never got the cell phones in with the belongings and even you have a cell phone.”

Glancing over at David who had taken a seat not so far away, she furrowed her brow with concern, “Forensics bagged up all the personal affects of the individuals at the scene, right? Like, all of it?”

David frowned, “I sure as fuck hope so. Is something missing?”

She began desperately clicking through the laptop, accessing the items retrieved from the scene, David standing, concerned and terrified, still seeing that note in his brain, reminding him of what he had tried so hard to forget. Placing a hand on the back of her chair and leaning in, perhaps inches from her face, able to smell the coffee on his breath and his face wash, whatever he used to keep himself so clean shaven. She could hear him breathing. It was eerily calm despite his clearly rattled demeanor. And him being so close? Hard to focus.

Squinting she scrolled through each individual’s information, frowning as she compared, “Shit. Shit!”

David was looking at the same documents, and he was realizing the same thing that she was. He supposed it might not have been so obvious so immediately, but he also wasn’t a profiler. This wasn’t what he did the way she did it.

Grabbing her phone she typed desperately into it, sending the message off to her coworker, Adrian, the one she’d had a crush on and had flirted with terribly. The one who had told her he was interested, but maybe not right now. The one who sent her flirty texts still and she knew he just liked the attention, but sometimes you couldn’t help who you liked. Even if that person was a total asshole.

Ding!

Damn he was fast.

“Who the hell doesn’t have backups on the cloud? So far these people are coming up empty, ladybug.”

Sometimes you fell for the asshole and sometimes the asshole fell for you.

Detective Loki had seen that text. It had made him tighten, for whatever reason. Maybe it was the information given or maybe that little nickname at the end. He didn’t know squat about this woman and so far he was finding that it wasn’t making him dislike her. He wanted so badly to have slept on it and realized she really wasn’t his type. But here she was, focused and on task, already making headway with evidence. She wore an attire so different than his own and she didn’t look like a Federal Agent the way he always had seen them. She didn’t wear that stupid-ass jacket they all had, or that dumb fucking cap. She looked like she belonged in a coffee shop somewhere reading a book and staying quiet. But it bothered the hell out of him that she didn’t keep her weapon holstered or her badge on her.

“None of them had their cell phones. And we didn’t find them at the abduction sites. We assumed they were dumped for safety reasons, but from what Adrian is telling me, they didn’t even have backup information. We literally have no digital information on them,” she frowned, turning to look at David.

He paused for a moment, so close to her, able to smell the shampoo she had used, the lightly floral fragrance, the look of concern in her eyes. He could see everything.

Stepping back suddenly he rubbed his hands over his face, “All right. So let’s look at this. Phones get dumped for a ton of reasons, right? And maybe they just… all didn’t back up their phones.”

Y/N shook her head and frowned, as she typed back a response before tucking the phone away, “The GPS and locators on the phones were all deactivated, or else the lab would have coordinates for the phones. And why does someone not back up their phone?” She looked at him, already with the answer, though she needed him to say it. She needed him to understand what she was getting at.

“Everyone leaves some digital footprint. Can we find them online? Social media, maybe?” In that moment Y/N almost felt like giving him her signature ‘are you fucking with me?’ looks, though kept her poker face. He was a man living in a small town who had done small cases, for the most part. He didn’t know the ins and outs the way she did. He hadn’t been trained as she had.

So instead she looked at her computer, “I can do some searching myself, but for the real stuff… for what we’re really looking for… we need someone with experience.”

For a moment she thought briefly of her own team. Of course there was a group she worked with, but ultimately there was no ‘Penelope Garcia’ on her team, or a quirky tech nerd. There were expert analysts who could pull data and indeed find footprints. Honestly they were probably already doing that. But she had that feeling again… that gut wrenching pain.

Staring at the monitor for longer than felt comfortable, she sighed heavily, “I don’t like this, Detective. It’s wrong. I feel like we’re watching the lights flicker before the power goes out. I don’t even think this is the worst of it.”

Admittedly, she had been wrong in the beginning. But being wrong meant she was learning more about this person, and she didn’t like that. She never liked being in the head of a criminal, but of a sociopath… that was scary. Sleep wouldn’t be coming again any time soon, that much she knew.

As if overtaken, Y/N lept from her chair, almost knocking the damn plastic piece of garbage over as she stood and began practically tearing through the files. David looked at her, both confused and angry, though unsure why he was angry, “What are you doing?”

Her eyes were wide, though, and she was focused. In that moment it was all she could think about, all she could see, all she could-

“Here! It’s here!” She pulled out a statement by one of the victim’s spouses. Louise Frank, 43, nurse at the local hospital in Noxen. Putting the paper down she pointed, Loki now shoulder-to-shoulder with her, eyes locked as she pointed out the sentence, “Her husband stated he was having trouble getting in touch with her, which makes sense, but said he thought it was just something to do with her new phone. Detective, what if her husband still has the other phone? He said the screen was shattered but if we can get it, we can check the old phone.”

Adrenaline was pumping through her body, wanting in that moment to wrap her arms around his neck as she realized the opportunity they had. But instead she kept those Y/E/C eyes wide and excited, excited in a way she didn’t like to admit but in a way that David knew meant they had something to go off of.

“Let me get my keys, we’re driving to Noxen,” he looked stoic, though his breathing had increased, his own adrenaline pumping as he adjusted the collar of his shirt.

Looking at him with confusion she shook her head, “That’s two-hour drive, Detective. Shouldn’t we call them first?”

He was opening the door and headed to his desk as he spoke, “David. And I couldn’t give a fuck how long that drive is, we need that phone.”

___

David.

They had gotten into his car in a bit of a hurry, though Y/N was quite proud of remembering to bring her phone and her badge, both tucked into her jacket. Well, her badge was. Her phone was in hand as she called Noxen Police and had them email her the name and address of the husband. She had gone so far as to call the husband as well, warning him they were coming, and politely, kindly, sweetly, asked if he knew where the phone was.

He did. He had it.

Hanging up, she tucked the phone away, “Mr. Frank said he’ll have it out for us.” David barely nodded, instead gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles almost white as he kept himself from going seventy in a fifty. This was a lead, he knew. It was a lead they’d be able to solidly point at and hold up in the air and shout, “here!”

And he was not about to jeopardize that by having some idiot mail it over or some rookie cop drive it and drop it again. Or lose it entirely. He didn’t trust anyone except for the two people in the car.

“I dated a guy once with knuckle tattoos,” she spoke calmly, looking out the window at the barren trees and quiet grey day.

Loki was shaken from his trance and looked over, his face washed with confusion, “What?”

Y/N turned to face him, “I dated a guy once with knuckle tattoos. Like you,” she gestured to his hands, partially to let him know she noticed how tightly he was gripping the wheel.

He let go slightly.

Raising an eyebrow he turned back to the road, his posture relaxing, “Oh,” he said flatly.

She kept her face stoic, “Don’t you want to know what it said?”

David glanced back again, confused though now oddly engaged, “What did it say?”

She got quiet, “It said ‘gullible’ on one hand.”

His face contorted for a second as he considered this, “That doesn’t- goddamnit,” he felt himself smiling as he looked over, watching the woman in the passenger seat smiling as well, her form relaxed as she chuckled. David did too.

“How often do people give you shit about your tattoos?” She kept her smile but softened her tone, deciding she didn’t like the idea that the rest of the car ride would be silent. She wanted to know David more than just as a man in a file. She wanted to understand what went on in his head.

Taking a breath, he considered the question. His internal monologue was often just that, internal, but he found himself being asked questions that people didn’t often ask him. A joke that no one else would have ever made seeing him angry. This wasn’t just a woman, but chaos in a bottle, perhaps, “When I was in the academy, lots of people gave me shit. I was a bit older than some guys in there and I still had my temper,”

She grinned, “Oh, this is you calm?”

The corner of his lips curled up slightly, just slightly, “Anyway, I got into a couple fights. Off grounds, of course. But I talked to one of the sergeants in the academy and he sort of set me straight. Told me there would always be something and that if I wanted to be any kind of officer, any kind of detective, I needed to let those things go. So yeah, people ask, but I don’t get into it.”

Nodding, she folded her hands in her lap, leaning back, “Back when I was in college, freshman year, of course, I was determined to get a tattoo. I mean, straight up determined. I thought, ‘Hell yes, you’re an adult, get that fairy tattoo on your ribcage!’” She looked over at David who was already smirking, “Hey, shut it.” He held a hand up, staring ahead at the empty highway as they drove.

“But ultimately I didn’t. It changed. It was a butterfly on my ankle, then for a brief moment a rose on my wrist. By the time I decided I wanted to be in psych, and work with the FBI, I had talked myself out of a tattoo entirely. It’s funny, because people always say they regret the tattoos they got, but honestly? I regret the tattoos I didn’t get.” Her eyes turned back to the trees as they drove, remembering those rushes of adrenaline as she took out a few hundred in cash and stood outside some shop near her school. Always a different one. Always the same amount of money in hand. Always certain. Then always with a reason not to.

It had never occurred to David that someone might regret not getting a tattoo. Some of his he had gotten in some guy’s basement when he was fifteen. Some when he turned eighteen and nineteen. Some even when he was twenty-four. His neck and hands were his younger years. And for a moment he tried to picture a young Y/N with her shirt hiked up getting a tattoo on her ribs that she wouldn’t possibly imagine how painful it was. Or maybe she did. There was much about her he didn’t know.

Her phone dinged again, breaking the silence, pulling it out to read another text from Adrian, “Ladybug, you’re teasing me with all this exciting information. Update me on the case. Place isn’t the same without you here.”

Asshole.

Sighing, she frowned, eyeing the message, “Ladybug?” David had caught a glimpse of the message, and while he had tried not to pry he was somewhat curious. Was it a significant other? A friend? Something else?

Shutting the screen off, the young woman tucked her phone away again, “Coworker. Not a profiler but he’s a field agent with serials back in DC, where I’m out of. It’s a long standing joke, mostly born of me forgetting the word ‘bee’ and instead screaming ‘ladybug’ because clearly those two things look and sound the same,” she rolled her eyes at herself. It had been such a bad first week, so much so she’d stressed herself out that when a bee came near her, allergic of course, she had screamed instead ‘ladybug’, the first insect name she could think of.

David only nodded his head, and Y/N considered her own fondness for Adrian. She wished she didn’t like him. She wished she could listen when her own friends told her he was just using her for attention. But she knew that already. Didn’t matter. Not really. Emotions were always fickle that way, driving you to do stupid shit. It was why she was so good at her job, in that she understood what drove people, even when it didn’t make any logical sense.

The drive after was fairly quiet, though interjected with sparse conversation. Meaningful, but quick. Tidbits shared. Pieces. Shards. Bits of each other’s puzzle that they would later try and piece together to make sense, even though it never would. But she found out he had spent ten years in the boy’s home, sprinkled with some juvie time for petty crimes he rolled his eyes at himself for. And Y/N had let out her own experience coming face-to-face with one of the serials she’d caught. He didn’t know who she was. She knew who he was. Just by that look. The vacant look but one that was burning. An empty building on fire. Nothing inside. Nothing but the fire to drive him. It had terrified her. She still woke occasionally to those eyes, staring through her, passing her by on the street like dodging a bullet.

Getting the phone once they arrived in Noxen had been quick. The husband wanted less than nothing to do with the police and it was clear he had already spent time crying. David knew the look. Y/N did too. Grief stricken and angry. Nowhere to put it.

Giving the phone to David (who insisted he be the one to hold it) she sighed, shaking her head, “We have to plug it into my laptop at the precinct and use encryption. Whoever did this, all of this, is smarter than we’re giving him credit for. If he knows we have the phone, he’ll be all over this. We need to consider who this man is.”

A shiver ran up Detective Loki’s spine, looking at Y/N as they got into the car, “You’re saying this is a guy?”

She frowned, chewing at her bottom lip, “I didn’t want to think it was. I don’t think he was trying to trick us with the formal writing and the flowers. I think that’s just how his brain is wired. But I need to know, then, why he’s targeted you and the other detectives. And now… now you, David. He wants something from you.” Her eyes were filled with concern as she stared at him in the car, still turned off, cold.

He turned the car on without a word, beginning the drive back to Conyers. He was angry now. Not just at the situation, but at all of it. He had wanted to be grateful for the phone, for having someone like Y/N on the case who could figure this out, but he was angry at how he felt. He didn’t like being a target this way. He didn’t like that someone knew him. Knew the anniversary of the day his horrid mother dropped him off at the home and ran off. He didn’t like that this was so damn personal.

Dover and Birch was hard, but it was easy. He was fueled by the parents' focus. He was driven by the need to save a child. Children. He had wanted to do something good after so much time hiding in a town like Conyers. And now someone had hand-picked him, of all detectives in the world, for this.

Y/N wanted to tell Detective Loki she knew he was better than that. Than some psychopath who would stage a mass murder. She wanted to urge him to be cautious, though understood someone was poking the bear in a big way. Someone wanted him upset. On guard. Determined and angry. Someone wanted him emotionally involved. It wasn’t because they were getting back at him, though. She knew it was something else. But that was the big question.

((Tagging: @is-it-madness​ @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @encounterthepast​ @detecellie​ @breakawayfromeveryday​ ask to be added/taken off))

[tinybangtanangel]

★~BTS REALITY~★

BTS is holding a special reality series with fans as a celebration of ten years performing. The goal is simple, be the last girl standing and you might win yourself a big ol' prize.

Now who in their right mind would pass up on an opportunity like this? Definitely not you.

Rated: M (it doesn’t seem like it now, but it’ll get there eventually)

Relationship: OT7/Reader

1 | 2 | ?

                            Chapter 1: ★ APPLICATION ★

It was an ordinary Saturday. The refreshing feeling of waking up and realizing you had no classes already making the day ten times better. The smell of coffee makes its way to your nose, indicating that Adela was awake. She was always the early riser of you two.

Making your way out of your room, you wrinkle your nose as the coffee smell becomes stronger. Coffee was not a drink you preferred. You drag your way to the bathroom and proceed through your morning routine.

Teeth freshly brushed and face washed, you walk towards the living room.

“You’re up early” Adela states slightly surprised. She watches you beeline to the couch. You offer a small grunt in return as you plop yourself down. You never were much of a morning person, though today seemed to be going fine so far. She grins and sashays her way over to the couch as you begin flipping through movies to watch.

“You know, (y/n), I’m going to be checking out that new café on campus with Jeffery today, if you want to come with” You, halt your movie search.

“Adela, girl, I love you, but Jeffery is a total douche,” you reply. Last time you checked Jeffrey's world revolved around pretty girls and parties.

Laughing, Adela rolls her eyes. “Whatever (y/n), I’m leaving in an hour, let me know if you change your mind” and with that, she heads towards her room to get ready. Shrugging, you return your focus to the T.V. It would be nice to head out today and get some fresh air, but staying home and binging Netflix sounded much more appealing. You snuggle further into the couch, yes, this will do for today.

----------

It was close to lunchtime when you finally peeled yourself from the couch. Your hunger had overpowered your will to not move, and so, you were forced to get up. Without Adela in the house, it was unusually quiet, something you hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing in a while. Turning to your phone, you scrolled for some music to play while making something to eat. Opening YuTube you begin your search for some good music.

While scrolling you come across a new BTS song. ‘Hmm’ you think to yourself, ‘It has been some time since I’ve listened to something new by them’ Clicking the song you are pleasantly surprised with what you hear. They had evolved their music style since the last time you had listened to them. You scroll down further to the comments, wanting to see what others think of the song. As you read through the comments, you notice some repeat the same message: LIVE EVERY FAN’S BEST DREAM WITH BTS! CLICK HERE TO READ MORE…

You stare at the message intently. It was most likely a scam, some robot trying to rob fans of their personal information, yet you felt your curiosity getting the best of you. God, please don’t be dumb right now (y/n). You could not afford to have your personal info stolen, especially your bank info, with how things were going money-wise. You found your finger getting closer and closer to the link. Well as the saying goes, you only live once! Quickly pressing down, you scrunch your eyes as if by closing your eyes you were saving yourself from the hacker you were allowing onto your phone. After a couple of seconds, you slowly peel your eyes open.

Looking down you are shocked to see a legitimate website. You stare at your phone helplessly as the options tumble through your head. Glowing on your screen was the ad for BTS’s new exclusive series reality show, something about a gift they had decided to award their fans for their 10th anniversary.

You delve further into reading the ad, trying to see if this was really happening. Who would’ve thought BigHit would ever allow this, especially with the number of crazy fans BTS had out there. Applicants weren’t required to speak fluent Korean, rather they wanted those who could speak some Korean and some English. You knew fans all over the world were having a field day over this, including you. Giggling in excitement, your legs begin bouncing in anticipation. Sure you only knew like five words in Korean, but you could learn more. As you began to calm back down, logic began invading your happy thoughts. There were going to be millions of people applying for a chance to participate in the show, and only 10 spaces available. Well, 10 spaces before elimination within the show of course. There was no way BigHit was going to notice you of all people, so what was the point.

“Fuck it” Rolling your neck, you ease the tension of sitting hunched over your phone. Either way, you weren’t going to die if you applied. Might as well jump on the opportunity.

The questions were very standard, asking information such as age, height, nationality, etc. Towards the end, trickier questions began appearing.

“Why do I want to be a part of this show?” you can’t help the eye roll that escapes you at the question “What the hell kind of question is that,” you ask yourself aloud. What were you supposed to write? It was simple, you had been a big fan of them back in the day (still kind of were), and this was your chance to meet them in person. But you had a feeling BigHit wanted something a bit deeper, something more personal. Unfortunately, you were not a very deep person, so this question was a challenge.

Almost two hours later, you were finally finished. Grumbling, you stood and made your way back to the living room. Your mind wandered back to the difficult question. You had written some cheesy response relating BTS to your ‘precious high school years’, but what if that wasn’t good enough? Someone across the globe had probably written a more authentic answer, taking your chance of ever meeting the boys. You shook your head as you made your way back to the living room, it wasn’t like you were going to get picked anyway.

----------

You were shaking as you stared at your computer in disbelief. To say you were confused was an understatement. How was this even possible? You were sure your application would get ignored with the millions of fans applying, yet in front of you was an email from BigHit inviting you for an interview. You couldn’t even describe the emotions coursing through you, everything felt tingly and ugh you hated it. You were probably about to have a stroke from the shock alone. Stumbling towards your bed you throw yourself down, how were you supposed to break the news to Adela. Also thank god it was summer since your dumb ass decided to apply without even thinking about school. God this was all happening way too fast.

Your hands tremble as the gravity of the situation sets in.

You were going to Korea.

You were going to be on T.V.

You were going to meet BTS.

No, you were getting ahead of yourself. You had to pass the interview first before you could even breathe in the same room as them.

Your eyes begin to droop, the softness of your bed lulling you to sleep. You had some serious planning to do.

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

“God you’re so lucky (y/n), make sure to get an autograph for me.” You laugh as Adela clings to you. Breaking the news to her wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. Now here you were, a new wardrobe later, lugging the largest suitcase you could find. You weren’t exactly sure how long you were going to be stuck in Korea, so you figured you might as well pack as much as possible.

Adela had been slightly hurt that you hadn’t told her about the application since she had been a fan back in the day as well. In the end, she settled with you getting their autographs and pictures of the boys. That was if you even made it onto the show.

“You know I can’t promise that Adela” you reply amused. She rolls her eyes with a huff.

“Oh be quiet (y/n), they’d be stupid to ever reject a girl like you” she grins at you before picking up the pace. “Hurry up, you’re going to miss your flight at this rate”

You can feel the sweat collecting on your hands as you approach the security check. This was it, no turning back now. Taking in a deep breath, you turn towards Adela.

“Thanks for coming with me today, I’m seriously going to miss you”, your voice wavering slightly. You hear her sniff before she launches herself at you.

“Shut up, you’re going to make me cry (y/n)” Chuckling, you wrap your arms tighter around her. You were going to be lonely without her. Reluctantly, you pull away. You had a flight to catch. Looking back one last time, she waves and you turn and make your ways towards security. Korea, here you come.

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

Finally, the plane had landed. You knew the flight would be long, but you didn’t realize how bloated you would get, so now here you were with a swollen face hobbling around the Seoul international airport. Good thing you weren’t being interviewed, or even seen by anyone from BigHit today. They might have rejected you on your bloated face alone.

Looking up you thank the gods that they provide English on the signs because although you were comfortable with speaking Korean, reading was a different story. You wander around for your carousel and luggage, there were too many people in this place. You rub your face and wipe the crust from our eyes. You could not wait to get to the hotel and get some proper rest.

30 minutes later, you finally had your luggage and were heading towards the exit when you spotted a man holding a sign with your name. You pause slightly, startled at the sight before you. Was this in the email they sent you? Gosh, you knew you should’ve re-read the email before landing. You decide against waving your hand at the man and begin approaching him instead.

Getting closer, you tentatively step towards the male “Um, hello sir, my name is (y/n) (l/n)” your voice coming out hoarsely. Jesus, you needed to drink some water asap.

Turning suddenly, the man’s eyes widen. “Oh! Apologies miss! I didn’t see you walk here” he apologizes quickly, a forced smile pulling its way across his face. His accent was prominent as he stumbled through his English. Giving you a once over, he bends to grab your luggage from you. “My name is Song Park. If you would follow me, I will be taking you to hotel”

“Oh, thank you very much Mr. Park” you respond somewhat taken aback as he begins to wheel your luggage towards the car. You weren’t expecting a whole chaperone service, but you sure as hell didn’t have any complaints.

Sliding into the car you decide to send a quick text to Adela, letting her know you had arrived safely. The car begins moving as Song drives you to your destination. You lay your head back and allow yourself to relax into the seat, you can’t help the butterflies that flush your system suddenly as realization strikes you. This was happening. A smile graces your features as you doze off.

[lavenderek]

I love when you fix twilight. It's obviously not fix-able completely, but you make it way better. What do you think about how she calls her parents by their first names?.

i think bella’s relationships with her parents are super weird and sometimes even unhealthy. 

some of the things i’m gonna say, i’ve already said before, and they are VERY VERY LONG, but i’m gonna say them again anyway and i’ve watched jenny nicholson videos for like three days straight, so i’m gonna do it in.... a numbered list!!!! 

seriously it’s super long don’t open the readmore unless you want to look at a super long post

1. bella calls them by their first names, but only in internal narration. 

most teenagers don’t call their parents by their first names, so this is odd and distances the reader from her. i’m not sure if it’s supposed to humanize her parents?

her parents would be humanized if they were acknowledged by the role they’re supposed to be playing in bella’s life; most of her readers would be seeing her as The Typical Teenage Girl, so having her parents be seen as entities separate from her who operate as peers instead of parents is bizarre. 

furthermore, she never does this in dialogue. she only does it in internal narration. 

so is this supposed to make her seem more mature and independent? bella isn’t independent; she’s provided with all her needs by her father, including emotional needs. when edward leaves her in the second book, her father takes care of her and ultimately considers having her go back to live with her mother again, because clearly bella is in need of some parental support. put a pin in maturity, i’ll get back to that in a second. 

if it’s not to make her seem more mature, then it’s just a weird stylistic choice so that the reader knows her parents’ names, which - why? i’m sure when chief swan is talking to his friend and his friend calls him charlie, we will understand through context clues that his name is charlie. also, us knowing her parents’ names doesn’t add anything to the story. bella treats every side character as an obstacle in her life, so we gain nothing from knowing her dad’s name. 

it makes sense for her to call her stepfather phil, but she should call her parents mom and dad. 

2. bella is “super mature” 

ouch! i pricked my finger on the pin i put in maturity. yowie!

we hear a lot about how mature bella is. she condescendingly tells us that her mother is stupid and describes her father’s inability to feed himself. is this true? 

her mother got married and has begun a life with her new husband. her father is a grown-ass man who has kept himself alive for what, forty years? they never do anything particularly immature except one time stephenie meyer has her dad accidentally microwave a can of soup at some point (has he never had soup? in the whole decade since he and renee got divorced, has he been soupless the entire time?). i don’t know that fucking up a can of soup is immature so much as a mistake, but go off i guess. 

so maybe she’s not more mature than her parents, but surely she is just mature in her own right. let’s see all the mature decisions bella makes just in the two years we are present for. 

bella gets a head injury in a car accident. she resists the advice she receives from a medical professional to rest, and plans on not telling her mother about it. she’s even pissed at her dad when he tells her mom. 

bella meets edward and senses from the jump that he’s lying to her. he gives her mixed signals that make her uncomfortable. he and many people in his life talk often about how he could kill her, how much he wants to kill her, but that he is holding back. she decides that she is safe based on her own feelings (she is objectively incorrect about this, by the way, regardless of how her story ends) and chooses to date him anyway.

bella catches the attention of a man who wants to kill her specifically. she does not tell her father. instead, she insults him and runs away from home. she then runs away from the people who are assigned to protect her, because she believes she knows better than they do. 

edward breaks up with bella. i think most people after the ending of a relationship would go to their room and cry and process those feelings of sadness and abandonment. but bella’s not like other girls. she’s mature and has deep emotions. she refuses to accept the breakup and spends hours wandering around in the woods, forcing everyone in her town to go around in the night looking for her. okay. 

she gets a part-time job at some point. but so does her classmate mike, and also 55% of teenagers in her age range (when the book is set, which is in the mid-to-late 90′s). 

oh, but wait, then she withdraws all her savings and uses them to purchase and fix up a motorcycle - a thing she is specifically not allowed to do - in order to spite her ex boyfriend. at this point she has abandoned her plans to become a vampire, so there’s no reason to assume she won’t be going to college in a couple years. with what savings will she be paying the tuition? i’m sure her school counselor will understand when she explains that she spent it all on a motorcycle. 

we are told bella is very mature and stephenie meyer clearly expects us to draw this conclusion based on how bella does her chores without being asked; but when it comes to major decisions about her safety, her future, and the effect she has on others, she repeatedly makes selfish and childish decisions. she hurts her parents, her friends, and herself, a lot. she does all of this based on her own intuition.

and actually, a lot of it tracks with her being a teenager. teenagers are not adults. they biologically do not yet have the full capacity for decision-making. that’s why they’re not adults. bella is not more mature than her parents and her belief that she is is demonstrably dangerous. she really needs more discipline in her life. 

3. bella and her mom

bella is very sad in the beginning of the book. she loves her mom and sees her mom as her best friend. 

she demonstrates her closeness by: 

lying to her mom that she wants to live with her dad, because she believes renee will be happier without bella, her supposed best friend. renee does not notice that bella has lied or question this decision. 

putting off emailing or calling her mom for several days, which makes renee angry. when she finally does, she basically just lists the things she’s done and logs off. 

refusing to share information with her, including that she was injured in a car accident, because she believes renee will be upset. her dad calls renee anyway, and bella is angry and is incredibly reluctant to call her back and talk to her. 

ignoring her emails for months when she’s sad over her breakup. 

visiting her exactly one time in the whole two years spanned in the books. her mom is also never invited to come visit bella in forks. 

renee’s absence from bella’s life actually works for the plot, as she can’t interfere with bella’s duplicity, while leaving the option to add an element of guilt from afar. but it doesn’t make sense as a character decision. 

i think it would make way more sense if bella and her mother aren’t close. bella wants her mom to show interest in her life. she suggested moving in with her dad in the hopes that her mom would be like, “no, honey, stay, i’ll miss you if you go,” but renee doesn’t even question it, she just books her a ticket. 

bella checks her email immediately when she arrives, and hasn’t heard from her mom, so she sends her an email herself, to which she gets a response like, two days later. 

bella calls her mom and gets her answering machine. renee is on her honeymoon and she and her new husband are in the process of moving to another state, so bella reasons that her mom is just busy; but she is also dealing with the knowledge that she’s just not a priority for her mom. 

yeah, this is very sad and makes renee seem like an asshole, but maybe she is an asshole in this version. it would neatly remove renee from the plot, it would explain why bella is so bummed about living with her dad, and it would lay the groundwork for why bella is so gutted when she perceives edward breaking up with her as being abandoned. bella believes she is not worth staying for. 

4. bella and her dad

i don’t even know where to start with bella and her dad. he seems great to me. 

he is the chief of police.

he knows and is respected by everyone in town.

he has friends and hobbies. 

as i said before, he has fed and clothed himself his whole life - at the very least in the decade since his divorce.

...so he seems like a reasonable person and member of the community. 

he treats bella with respect and offers her privacy, but he is always available when she needs help.

he notices and tries to intervene when she’s struggling. 

he has an amicable relationship with his ex-wife and they communicate about their daughter regularly. 

he bought bella a truck and put chains on the tires so that it would be safe for her even when it’s cold and wet out. 

...so he’s clearly an involved and caring father. 

bella goes through a serious depressive episode in new moon after her breakup with edward, and her dad responds to every bit of it. 

he wants to find out why she is upset. 

he is aware of how she’s doing in school and whether or not she’s seeing her friends. 

when bella has night terrors, he jumps out of bed to comfort her. 

when jacob deliberately lashes out at her and triggers another depressive episode, he immediately steps in and calls jake’s dad. 

he is told bella is at fault, but he takes bella’s side and chooses to believe her side of the story. 

throughout her depression, he never once judges her for it. 

after what he perceives to be edward hurting bella and being a bad boyfriend (which - he is observably not wrong about that), bella’s dad is openly against bella dating him again. 

...so he cares for and advocates for bella’s emotional state. 

if bella expresses gratitude or appreciation for any of these things, it’s sort of bitter and backhanded, like “at least charlie leaves me alone.” he fucked up trying to make dinner one time, to which she responds by refusing to let him cook ever again. bella dates edward twice before eclipse, and both times she went missing and then came back injured; so chief swan tells her he doesn’t think she should be dating edward again, at which point she puts down ultimatums and threatens to leave. bella ignores his rules and requests, keeps secrets from him, and runs away from home a few times because she believes she knows better than he does. 

no matter how many times charlie proves himself, it never changes bella’s opinion of him. there’s no arc there. bella arrives thinking her father is incompetent, and she leaves thinking her father is incompetent. 

making bella disrespect her father does benefit the narrative by enabling her to be secretive and makes her feel even more isolated in her experiences. it also makes stephanie have to write about less characters. but bella being secretive and isolated just results in her being stuck in the same situation for like 75% of each book. i think it would make sense for her to want to fix things, even just a little bit. 

there’s no reason for her to disrespect charlie, so her unfounded feelings of disdain toward him are confusing and just make her look like a dick; and furthermore, not giving him a character arc just makes him a boring obstacle. he might as well just be a door that gets stuck shut whenever it rains. 

i think it would be a better idea, for character development, for bella to grow closer to her father over the course of her stay with him. i would like, at least two of the times bella disobeys him, for her to ultimately conclude that he was right and she shouldn’t have done the thing. i would like her to eventually open up to him about some things. 

she doesn’t have to share that the cullens are vampires, but of all the people in her life, who has experience with having a romantic partner with whom he envisioned a future break up with and leave them? it would make sense for her to confide in him - or at the very least, seek comfort from him. 

bella trusting her father’s judgment and showing caution dating edward again after the events of new moon would also be better for the story, and i have more thoughts about that but that’s for another post. 

and probably biggest of all, your only tenuous link to emotional acceptance and fulfillment should not be your romantic partner. that’s so weird and unhealthy. bella is a teenager who, in general throughout the books, feels unmoored and stressed out. she needs someone sturdy and reliable who she can trust to protect her, even if it’s only emotionally. this would also give bella someone to bounce her thoughts and feelings off of and reduce the monotony of the narration a little bit. 

her father is an excellent choice for that. he repeatedly demonstrates that he is in her corner, and her corner alone. (i also think vampires should be just a little bit easier to kill, so that chief swan can protect her just a tiny bit.) 

5. why

stephenie meyer has children herself and it’s so weird to me that she would write a teenager deliberately disobeying and lying to her parents and consequently placing herself and many other people in grave danger, and framing it as a good thing. she makes it clear that bella was correct in doing this. 

bella’s not the only one, either. edward allegedly sees carlisle as his father figure, but A. this was not consensual, and he is frequently unhappy that carlisle bit him and made him a vampire; and B. he often disregards or gets angry about carlisle’s advice. 

wouldn’t stephenie meyer want to know if her son was hurting, or in danger? wouldn’t she want her son to respect her? wouldn’t she want to be able to share her wisdom and help her son make safe choices?

she does make it clear in interviews that this is pretend and she doesn’t believe readers should be seeing her characters as role models; but she made her characters teenagers on purpose, and it strikes me as kind of irresponsible to act as if she assumes her young readers won’t try to identify with them. 

bella’s relationships with her parents are boring and unusual, and the older i get the more frustrating they are. they stifle the characters and make the plot repetitive and tiresome. these are relatively small changes that i think would benefit the story overall. and that’s my opinion, thanks guys

[mitsukui]

HEY BEE! I'm feeling better today. I have a lot on my plate right now, but I'm taking it step by step! I have online lectures to watch, millions of emails to respond to (my inbox looks SO MESSY IT STRESSES ME OUT) anyways I have questions for you -dont feel obligated to answer just wanted to chat! 1-Is your name really Bee? or is it a nickname? ITS SO CUTE AAHH 2-whats your fav ice cream flavor (i got some today with my mom it was nice to spend time with her hehe) I LOVE YOU BITCH -ophelia anon

HEY BITCH 🤪 (calling you ‘bitch’ but with tons of respect and love, ok)

I’m so glad to hear you’ve been feeling better, baby. I was worried about you! If there’s anything I can do for you, please, do let me know!

And I completely understand you. It sucks to be an adult sometimes, right?! My classes at uni started this Tuesday, and I wanna die already. Because of it, my days have been so busy: uni and private teaching in the mornings, teaching at a bilingual school in the afternoon, and more private teaching in the evening. Not to mention the English classes on Saturday. MAYBE WE’RE GONNA DIE BECAUSE WE’RE GROWN UPS BUT HEY AT LEAST WE HAVE EACH OTHER RIGHT!!!!!

One thing that usually helps me is to write everything down. I have a planner, and I always organize my entire week on Sundays. As I complete my tasks, I highlight them and it’s quite satisfying to see my to-do list slowly getting smaller.

Don’t worry, baby! You can ask me anything, and I’ll always answer it!

Bee is actually a nickname that I’ve chosen for Tumblr exclusively. My real name is Isabelly, and most of my friends call me Isa, Belly, or Bells. I HAVE THIS STUPID COWORK THAT TELLS EVERY SINGLE STUDENT AT THE BILINGUAL SCHOOL THAT I AM A BELLY BECAUSE OF MY NAME. IS A BELLY. GET IT? I HATE HIM. Bitch, the worst part of it is that they actually get the joke because they’re fucking bilingual at the age of 8 - 9 (I’m from South America, btw, so that’s why I’m surprised whenever I see a kid speaking English as well as my students). But I can’t really remember why I decided to go with a whole different nickname. I guess I just wanted to have a cute nickname, like you’ve said it, because I really like Bee as well!

Hmmmm, and my favorite ice cream flavor...I’d say cookie dough or vanilla! Tell me yours, too! And I’m happy to hear you’ve spent some time with your mom, that’s always nice!

Sending you lots of love, baby! ❤️ I LOVE YOU BITCH I AIN’T NEVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU BITCH

[andyourhostkristenwiig]

I thought about this for quite a while..about what happened at work yesterday. I have to write it down and I can’t fit it in a message to my friends...but I can’t let it go yet. I’m making it read more though.

We’re 6 people in our department including our boss.

Three of us were around the same age (26-30) so we got along very well. Especially with Corona hitting us, two of us living alone, we weren’t allowed to go anywhere besides work so we bonded. We were friends, at least I thought so.

We’d spend lunch breaks together, since we shared one office anway, we had a movie/game night one time in June. We laughed a lot and work was really fun. Let’s call them A and B (which fits, since I’m C)

Now we all have our little knicks and knacks and I fully understand that.

A was afraid of pretty much anything. B and I  would do just about anything for her...go pick up lunch, let her pay later because she was too afraid to use an ATM, we picked up stuff from the grocery store when she forgot something on her ONE shopping trip she could do per week so she didn’t have to be around more people, I walked her outside and across the town square every lunch break because she was afraid of being watched, I went grocery shopping with her after the store re-arranged everything and she was afraid of not finding things and being in there for too long, we would sometimes just bring stuff from our break for all of us just because we were friends. She freezes extremely quickly and has a fan heater in our office...but with my dust allergy that’s nearly impossible for me, the three of us sat together and talked about alternatives. She doesn’t like wearing thick clothes, she doesn’t like scarves, she doesn’t like sweaters or winter boots. We eventually settled on heated pads for her shoes, the door can be closed, the heater can be on but the fan heater has to stay shut off and I get to air out the office every now and then.

Sounds nice, right?

Yes, until you asked her a favour. She would always turn her anxieties to please her, so she didn’t have to do any favours for us. She wouldn’t even take my sick note that was in an envelope from me so I wouldn’t have to send it all the way through the entire town hall which takes a couple of days. Whatever you would ask her, she couldn’t do it for whatever strange reason. But if you’d ask her one favour multiple times, she would always decline it with a different explanation.

The “worst incident” is so dumb but actually apparently big now.

There’s a calendar in our office that I need to set payment deadlines. I can clearly see it but I can’t reach it. Usually our cleaning lady pushes the date farther but that week she was sick. I asked A to please push it to the new date. She proceeded to tell me she couldn’t reach it. And I told her, no she could, we’re the exact same height, she just has to take a tiny step closer. She then ended up acting super dumb and ripped the calendar off. Yeah I was a little annoyed. Told her that now she has to step even closer to put it back on. She suddenly asked me if she couldn’t hang it behind me instead to which I answered that it would be dumb to put it behind me when I need it like 20 times a day and can’t see it there. Anyway that dumb argument went on for 10 minutes and ended in me ripping the calendar from her hands, putting it back on from the exact position she was standing in before and telling her to stop acting stupid. Which I still stand for. That was when the town hall was closed for everyone except employees so to calm down, I put my headphones on and continued my work. Like 10 minutes later I just came back from asking something in the office next door but they needed more info so they came with me, I saw that she was crying. I’m bad with crying people and went to B’s office and asked her to come over to check on her. Which she did. But A didn’t really want to tell us what was going on and eventually told us it wasn’t about the calendar thing but something personal and she’d rather go home. Which she did...that entire thing happened at like 8.45am and she left at 11am. (this is important for the story just go with it)

Anyway, we forgot (or so I thought) about it, continued joking with each other, hung out, we still had lunch together every day and would play uno when everyone else was gone at work. We would talk about work like friends, not like colleagues...we would mock here and there and voice what we hated.

Things at work were sort of tense lately due to several reasons...mostly misinterpretation and misinformation and for whatever reason they projected all that onto B. It was quite weird at work lately. I was always a bit confused why they wouldn’t address their problems with B herself.

We still had the fan heater issue though because she didn’t want any of our agreements anymore, saying it looks stupid and she doesn’t want it. When I came in at work and told her my eyes hurt from the dust, all she said was “oh sorry but I’m cold” and turned it back on. We sometimes butted heads here.

Last friday B had her final day, she got a new job closer to home and she totally deserved it. We were sad and would always go “oh no this is our last time eating chinese together” and all. I prepared an awesome home-made farewell card, bought some nice stuff for her and all. A and I would split our office then and she’d move into the now empty one and it was gonna be nice after all.

But the second B left the parking lot my colleague went “everything’s gonna be better now” and I thought that was so weird. On the weekend she left all our group chats and told us she would explain it to us later. I wasn’t at work on monday because I had handimen at my apartment.

When I came in on Tuesday, not only had A moved out of my office but also taken furniture from my office that I specifically moved into my office this past winter because I needed the space. She had also used my office as sort of a litter bin and put even B’s forgotten drink. It was so weird.

Anyway at 8.30am I get an email inviting us all to a meeting at 9am. I knew something was up when no one reminded me when they already left for the meeting.

So I came in there to be completely shredded apart. It was 4 against 1.

And who started? A started. She started again with the entire lunch thing where I didn’t want to have lunch with all 6 colleagues in my office (hello, corona you dumb fucks). Despite me having explained it a million times before.

Then, here’s the calendar story as she told it with tears in her eyes to our boss:

She was crying so loud that I should have heard her. I had left and entered the office several times and didn’t pay attention to her crying. Then I proceeded to go next door to get my colleague to show him that she was crying and my alibi was showing him a single sheet of paper that didn’t say anything. After THREE hours, we asked her what was wrong with her. And meanwhile we texted with each other and would laugh about her.

She told me she liked joking with us but sometimes they were too much. I asked her why she didn’t say anything and continued laughin with us while the two of us would always say when it went too far. She doesn’t like conflicts, she wasn’t peace. FUCK YOU, YOU WENT TO OUR BOSS FOR SOMETHING WE COULD HAVE HANDLED PRIVATELY.

Anyway, every colleague went on to tell me how awful I am. I am contemptuous, I’m a bully, I don’t have empathy, I mock everyone and show no respect. That went on for 35 minutes, I wasn’t really allowed to tell my version of the stories because A had tears in her eyes and went “I’m not stupid, I know you laughed about me” you know what you little bitch? I didn’t but I lost all respect for you with this move. She knew exactly that I’m the most uncomfortable if I’m unprepared in a room with all colleagues and was the center of attention. I was shaking the entire time, my voice was unrecognisable and I spent the entire morning in my office crying. They turned all those stories the way they pleased them and four against one, I was pretty helpless there. They told me it was all due to B and my friendship with her. No it wasn’t, it was me not being fake polite to you idiots anymore because you didn’t deserve it. A said she did this for her own health, she couldn’t handle the trouble in the air anymore. Oh sweetie...du hinterfotziges kleines Stück Scheiße...like I will ever talk to you again, like we will ever sit together again somewhere and play nice. I despise you with all my heart and I hope karma gets you good! I will never pick up lunch for you again, I will not accompany you anywhere to ease your anxiety and I will never bring anything from the store ever again.

I knew she was gonna stab my back eventually but this was unexpectedly fast.

I talked to B then, proceeded to delete A everywhere and block her. I am never talking to her ever again, luckily we don’t have the identical work. B went on to write her a huge text about how much of a coward she is that she couldn’t address us personally, as friends, and instead cornered me with everyone else when I was alone and most vulnerable. How fake it was to play friends with us just to go on to tell our boss everything the second she gets the chance. How she doesn’t want harmony, she just wants to have the upper hand. Her answer? “I didn’t read that text but we didn’t corner her, we invited her to a meeting. And I didn’t say she was gossiping, someome told me she was gossiping about me“ What kind of a friend believes that a friend gossips about them when they’re sick for one day? B wasn’t in that day, who was I supposed to gossip with? Also I do not talk shit about friends. ever! just to their face for fun. I have met many awful people in my life, but this must be the tip of the iceberg. I have never felt so used by a person that I really went out for and genuinely considered a friend. B told her that we did everything in our might to arrange with all her anxieties and fears but she has to address mine in front of a crowd which is also an anxiety of mine.

I have now scheduled a meeting with my boss on monday where I askedto show her my perspective of the stories told about me. I have so much shit on these guys just on these stories, they just think I’m too chicken to let them out. But if they think I’m going back to being the 15 year old teenager that was bullied and cried every day at school, was afraid of everything and everyone they picked the wrong one. I am done. I fought so hard to be the person I am now. I’m not perfect, I have so many mistakes and shit, but I got so far. If they think they can ruin it by sticking together, I will just take us all down. I have worked in so many different administrations these past years and not a single one has said a bad word about me. I’m still in contact with 90% of the people and when it’s not Corona, I go and check in with them from time to time. I am not letting a coward, a little back-stabbing bitch, an uncapable boss and a whiny rat ruin everything.

The End...to be continued I guess.

We’ll see about my future there once I’ve talked to my boss on monday.

[scribbleb-red]

Camisado (Your Emo Andreil AU)

[This started as a Morning AU on Twitter, warning: we're going very 00s] 

Andrew and Neil meet in a chat room age 13. 

Andrew's handle is @/phantom!attheopera 

Neil's is @/isayshotgun 

Andrew initially hangs around because he finds it hilarious how Neil roasts people he likes and trolls people he doesn't.

They also both have things in common - starting with but limited to their love of PATD and pretty much all emo music they can get their barely-teenage hands on. Andrew likes it a little heavier than Neil - but they both rave about Brendan Urie, Gerard Way and the Maddens.

They strike up a penpal style relationship - moving first from the chatroom to private messages, then the msn and email. 

They confide in each other. Neil moves around a lot because 'my dad's a bad man, he's after me and my mom'. 

Andrew tells him about Cass and Drake.

isayshotgun: he shdnt do dat 2 u 

phantom!attheopera: i know 

isayshotgun: id get u out 

phantom!attheopera: how 

isayshotgun: im gd w/ knives 

phantom!attheopera: maybe you can teach me. 

phantom!attheopera: and I'll teach you to spell, honestly. 

isayshotgun: *eyeroll*

Neil doesn't come to get Andrew because Aaron happens first. 

And then Andrew's in juvie and playing exy and the only way he can stay in touch with Neil is email. He shouldn't even be allowed email, but he's willing to get on his knees to have computer access, access to Neil.

Something about email makes their friendship even deeper. 

Actually, Andrew's fairly certain that he's half way in love and that if they were different people they'd have already talked about this. Still, it's because of email that he notices something is wrong with Neil.

His emails, which were long and rambling, have suddenly become short - no less full of feeling and affection, but syntactically different. 

He tries to ask about it. 

From: phantom!attheopera 

To: isayshotgun 

Subject: what's wrong with you?

Neil is cagey at first but Andrew gets it out of him in the end. 

From: isayshotgun 

To: phantom!attheopera 

Re:Re:Re:Re:Subject: what's wrong with you? 

 Being shot really sucks. That's all. N

All Andrew wants to do then is cross the country, gather Neil close and keep him safe. They're fifteen now and he'll be leaving juvie next month. 

"Can you keep safe until then?" Andrew types. 

"U cant save me. We talked about this." Neil's reply is not what he wants to read.

Andrew's released to Tilda. He finds out his brother is hooked on painkillers and his birth mother is an abuser. 

phantom!attheopera: she hits him. I need to stop her.  

isayshotgun: ... ... 

phantom!attheopera: what? 

isayshotgun: is that weird? for moms 2 hit u?

phantom!attheopera: your mom hits you too? 

isayshotgun: 2 teach me not 2 be stupid. 

isayshotgun: keepin me alive 

phantom!attheopera: that's not how it works, no one hits you for your own good. that's... 

phantom!attheopera: my therapist calls it emotional abuse and controlling behaviours.

Neil ends up sharing a lot more than he was probably initially intending - about the one time a girl kissed him and he couldn't walk properly for a week; about the way his mom pinched him and made him recite their rules back; about how he wasn't allowed to be sick, ever.

phantom!attheopera: one of these days I'll find you and we'll run away together. We'll go anywhere you want. Settle somewhere safe. 

isayshotgun: do u think ud like me irl? 

phantom!attheopera: well I can't see your spelling if you're talking 

isayshotgun: rofl lmao

Andrew tells Neil about Aaron. 

phantom!attheopera: he's a total prick 

isayshotgun: hv u tried talkin 2 him about smthing easy? like exy? 

phantom!attheopera: just because you like stickball 

isayshotgun: no i mean maybe u need a bridge 2 talk. common grnd.

phantom!attheopera: ...maybe

Neil is the one who gives him the idea about crashing the car with Tilda in it too. He sends Andrew all the instructions on a floppy disk that he posts to Andrew's therapist. On the front of the disk, Neil has scrawled their usernames. Andrew smiles.

Their relationship is a strange one - they are always there on the other end of the computer to each other, but they've never swapped photos and never heard each other's voices. 

When Andrew gets a phone, he asks Neil if he has one and Neil says no, only his mom has a burner.

Still Andrew gives Neil his number and on his birthday, November 4th, he gets a call from a Seattle phonebox. 

"Hey," Neil says. Andrew can hear him shivering, the chatter in his teeth. 

"Happy Birthday, Drew." 

They talk and talk. It's the best birthday Andrew's ever had.

Right up until the gunfire.

Neil vanishes. 

There's no emails. No MSN messages. No highly irritating nudges. He's not in any of their usual chatrooms. 

Andrew doesn't get another phone call.

Weeks go by. First one then another then another.

Andrew leaves messages. He sends emails. He really really hopes Neil isn't dead.

Aaron and Andrew go to live with Nicky. 

They're approached by The Ravens. Andrew turns down the infamous Riko Moriyama and his absurdly pretty Number 2, Kevin Day. 

David Wymack shows up. The deal extends to Aaron and Nicky if he wants it. Andrew says yes.

Sometimes Andrew thinks about Neil and tries to make an effort with Aaron, but Aaron is angry and a recovering addict and nothing Andrew says or does is ever enough. He still tries. 

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

 Subject: 9 ways I'm trying to befriend my twin

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Re: Subject: make that 11 ways 

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Re:Re:Re: Subject: none of these are working 

From: phantom!attheopera 

To: isayshotgun 

 Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Subject: you'd hate him too

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun  

Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Subject: ok fine, I don't hate him 

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Subject: Happy New Year 

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Re: Subject: And Happy Birthday I guess

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Subject: I miss you 

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Re: Subject: I still miss you 

From: phantom!attheopera

To: isayshotgun 

Subject: Panic! are play in Columbia next month !!!

From: isayshotgun 

To: phantom!attheopera

Re: Subject: Panic! are play in Columbia next month !!! 

 got u a ticket c u there @ 7pm

Andrew blinks. He stares at his inbox. The 1 new message. Neil's username. Neil is alive. Neil is coming to Columbia. Neil is coming to a Panic! At The Disco gig. He bashes out a hasty message. 

phantom!attheopera: Are you serious? 

isayshotgun: yeh

The month vanishes under Andrew's feet. He's nervous. He's excited. Nicky is exuberant. 

"My cousin has a date!" 

"Not a date, Nicky." 

Nicky just slides a knowing look his way and when Andrew takes the car keys, tells him to drive safe and stay out of fights. Andrew scoffs.

They haven't been talking much, Neil and Andrew. 

But Neil promised that Andrew wouldn't be able to miss him. 

Neil was telling the truth. He's standing there, a too-skinny teenager with badly cut hair flopping into his eyes, with a giant sign saying "phantom!attheopera".

Approaching, Andrew sees that Neil is gaunt, there's shadows under his eyes, which are blue as the sky on a clear, cold day. 

"You ready to scream your crooked heart out?" Andrew asks. 

Neil looks up with a slow smile. It wobbles as if his face is out of practice. 

"Hey." 

 "Hi."

They will - in fact - scream their crooked hearts out that night. They will hold each other upright and throw themselves through the mosh pit, feeling the press of elation and anger and frustration and hope. Neil will trip a stranger who gets too close for Andrew's comfort. Andrew will deliberately spill a drink over a girl who won't stop eyeballing Neil with hearts in her eyes. 

"My hero," Neil laughs. His laugh is rusty too. 

Andrew wants to hear it again and again. He wants to hear it every fucking day for the rest of his stupid emo life.

When the music fades and the crowds disperse, Andrew and Neil are left in the carpark, sitting on the bonnet of Andrew's car. 

He asks Neil where he's going tonight. 

Neil shrugs. 

He asks Neil if his mom is nearby but he already knows the answer. Mary Hatford is dead.

They don't leave for hours. Neil explains everything that night - who his dad is, what he's running from. Andrew doesn't care. 

When they're both cold, they sit in the car and turn the heating up. Andrew offers his hand to Neil and Neil curls their fingers together.

Neil is tired. Neil is so so so tired. 

"Come home with me." Andrew says. "Stay." 

Neil slumps against the seats, his head tilted so Andrew can see every sharp angle of his face. There's no fight, no bargaining. 

Just a sweet, fluttering feeling neither of them know to call hope.

The end.

[ainstgirl]

THE PUBLICIST - CHRIS EVANS X READER PART 2 (THE END)

I just uploaded the first part and I was going to wait to publish this but then I thought, why should I wait if I have finished it? so I hope you like it and as always, English is not my first language, I’m sorry if there is something wrong.

PART 1  

"What are you going to wear tonight?" Chris asks you while signing some documents, It was a good question, you still didn't know, a friend in common was going to celebrate a halloween party tonight, "I could be someone who has not had time to buy a costume" you say while answering emails "I'll see if I have a costume from previous years, but I think I don't dress up on Halloween since my university parties, what are you going to wear?" you look away from your phone towards him "I'm going to dress up as Star Lord" he says and you certainly didn't expect that costume "people will love it" You can already imagine what they would say on social media, fans would love it. Chris leaves the papers on the table and sits next to you, he takes you by the waist and sits you on his  lap "I could pick you up and go to the party together" he say playing with your hair "Of course, that wouldn't attract any attention to us" you both know that you have to be careful "Okay, but you know I plan to accompany you home at the end of the night" Chris gives you a kiss on your neck "I didn't expect less from a gentleman like you" you kiss him "but I better go, I have to send those documents and search my closet to see if I find a costume that fits me, i'll see you at the party" you get up from his lap "I can't wait to see you in your sexy college party costume" he says with a wink before you leave his house.

After half an hour looking in your closet you find several costumes but for your luck only one fits you, no doubt you had gained some weight since college, So apparently you were going to be dressed as Sandy from Grease (inspo). An hour later you arrive at Richard's party, the decoration of the house was impressive. 

You immediately look for Chris, you search the room until you finally find him and he looks beautiful as always, he's talking to a group of boys, you only recognize Scott who is dressed as a policeman. You see the moment he sees you, how he swallows and looks at you from top to bottom, the way he looks at you makes your heart race. It was going to be hard acting as if you didn't want to spend the night in his arms. Chris apologizes to his friends and heads in your direction, he comes straight to you, your feet move without giving them any orders in his search "YN...you look beautiful and hot...so hot" he says in your ear and your skin shudders to feel the breath on your skin "it was the only one that fit me" he bites his lip "it suits you too well, I'm going to have to spend all night frightening men" he gently caresses your waist. You see how a group of girls take out their cell phones and take pictures of Chris, that seems to bring you back to reality and you step back, separating you from him. Chris looks around, he has also come back to reality, a reality where you are not together, at least not in public "You better go back to your friends, I'm going to have a drink at the bar" you inform him and he sighs but before you walk away he stares at you and say "stay close okay?" you simply nod and go to the bar, the good thing about these parties was that alcohol was free.

You were drinking a beer when you feel a hand on your back and when you turn around there was woman dressed as a sexy cat "Sarah, you look amazing" you say giving her a hug "Y/N we're at a party, leave the beer for another day" she says taking the beer from your hand "four shots of tequila, please" she asks the waiter who immediately prepares them, Sarah takes one and puts it in your hand "I want you to have fun tonight" she looks at you with a raised eyebrow until you take the shot. You regret it as soon as you feelt the burning alcohol in your throat, she also drinks hers and offers you another. You look around, everyone was drinking and dancing, it's been ages since you had fun, now it's just work and some beers in a bar if you're lucky, you don't think about it anymore and you drink the next one, Sarah smiles "that's better, now let's dance, my mission tonight is to find you a boyfriend" she says grabing your hand and taking you to the dance floor with his friends. For her and all your friends, you've been alone for more than a year, if they knew the truth... 

Your eyes search for Chris on the dance floor but you find him leaning against the wall talking with friends and as always surrounded by girls. He seems to have felt your eyes because he turns in your direction and smiles at you. Without realizing it, you were biting your lip, then you hear Sarah call your name "YN this is Liam, Liam she is YN" she pushes you in a not so subtle way towards Liam "Hi" you say and he runs through your body with his eyes "that costume suits you" He says near your ear, the music was very loud, you just smile at him, this was very uncomfortable, you hadn't realized that Sarah was gone until you see her approaching you with a drink in her hand "Now that you know each other, let's dance, I love this song" she says screaming so you can listen to her above the music. You take one last look at Chris who was now talking to a girl who was practically naked, she had a hand resting on Chris's chest. Before you know it, you had already finished the drink that Sarah had just given you, and you need all your self-control to not go there and take her hands away from Chris's body. Luckily for you Sarah takes your arm and makes you dance with her. Your body starts to move with the music, normally you are embarrassed to dance but not tonight, you close your eyes and move your hips to the rhythm of the music. You feel little drops of sweat running down your neck from dancing when someone grabs your arm, you know who it is because of the reaction of those around you, Chris.

"sorry, Scott says he needs to talk to you" He stares at you, you know perfectly well that Scott has nothing to do with this "I'll be right back" you say to your friends and follow Chris to a room "what does Scott need from me?" you say following his game "are you drunk?" You start laughing, it's not funny but you can't help it "God, you're drunk" he runs his hands through his hair "why do you care?" you say crossing your arms "You've been all night dancing with a stupid guy, fuck he was touching your body" he was mad, he had also drunk what was his problem? "I was just dancing and you have no right to get jealous" you point him with your finger "you, I've seen how you let a beautiful half naked girl touch you" you say trying not to yell "but you haven't seen how I removed her hands from my body right?" you start laughing "do you find this funny?" He says approaching you while you keep laughing "I'd better take you home, you're very drunk" he still upset and you know it but he tries to hide it "I want to stay" You turn away from him and shake your head "let's go" he insists, but once again you move away from him "no, I want to stay" you say again "I wont stay to see how you dance with that idiot YN" He was really angry, you could see the vein in his neck, and yet you decide not to give in, you know that deep down you wanted to go with him, but alcohol doesn't seem to agree with your mind "then leave, I am sick of this" you say pushing him to the door. You really don't know why you said that, you just wanted him to leave you alone. He looks at you in pain and slams the door as he leaves the room.

Before you know it  you start crying. Love shouldn't be so complicated, maybe it isn't, you just made it complicated. You clean your tears and leave the room and go straight to the bar, you see Scott looking at you with concern but you shake your head, you didn't want to talk, you just wanted to drink to forget, at least for tonight. Ten minutes later you finish a bottle of rum by yourself.

You remember some hands caressing your skin, lips on your neck... Everything was in slow motion "god you are so hot" lips are joined with yours. Chris's are softer. The music seems far away now, where are you? but your eyelids are too heavy. You feel relief when your heels disappear from your feet, but then you notice how your pants disappear too and a chill runs through your body. "no...stop please" you don't know if you said it out loud or not. Some lips silence you when you notice the weight of his body on yours. You were striving not to lose consciousness when a strong sound makes you open your eyes for a second. It was only a second but you saw him, your body relaxes, he was here. The weight on your body disappears "shit" you hear someone say but you don't know who it comes from. "Chris stop, Chris" that voice... Scott? The next thing you remember is someone covering you up with something, it smells like Chris. "Chris" you say in barely a whisper, some hands caress your face gently "i'm here babe" you wish you could open your eyes to see Chris blue eyes. "I'm going to take you home" he says and the last thing you remember was the feeling of his lips on your forehead before everything went black.

Chris P.O.V

Chris leaves without saying goodbye to anyone, he's so angry that he just needed to get out of there "shit" Chris hit the wheel of his car with his fists. Scott sends him a message asking what happened, he still didn't want to talk about it, he was too angry "I'm going home" He sends it to his brother knowing that it was only going to cause him more questions.

 He has been driving around in the car for an hour, for some reason he didn't want to go home, that's not how the night was suppose to go. Instead of spending it together she has got drunk, the memory of her dancing with a guy still torments his mind "fuck" He was driving aimlessly but apparently his subconscious betrays him because he ends up in front of the house of the party. He might be mad at her but he couldn't leave her alone. He gets out of the car and take a deep breath before entering the party. He searches the entire floor but she is no there. Chris starts to get nervous. Y/N friend was kissing a guy but no sign of Y/N. Then Chris sees Scott and approaches him "Scott have you seen Y/N?" he asks anxiously "she was drinking at the bar, she seemed sad, what happened?" Chris hits the wall "shit, we argued, she was drunk and I need to find her" Chris says still looking for her in the room "We should look for her in the rooms" Scott says and the possibility had not crossed Chris mind ... she would never cheat, she's too good to do that, but what if someone tries to take advantage of her?. 

Chris runs up to the top floor followed by Scott. They go to several rooms and most were empty, some had couples having sex but YN wasn't there. Maybe she called a taxi and went home, he starts thinking, but then he enters the last room and what he saw froze his blood, or rather, made his blood burn. There she was lying on a bed with a man on top of her, the man was kissing her neck. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move but then, he listen to her say "no, stop please" in barely a whisper, as if she had trouble saying it. His body comes back to life. Chris takes the man away from her and throw him to the ground, he had felt anger before but never like this, he gets on top of the man and starts punching him until Scott gets in the way "Chris stop, Chris" Chris gets up willing to keep hitting him "Y/N, she needs you" when he hears her name Chris calms down instantly, shit, she was almost naked, he takes off his jacket and covers her body. "Chris" It's almost a whisper but it's reassuring to hear her voice "i'm here babe" Chris caress her face, he had to get her out of here, she was almost unconscious "i'm going to take you home" He bends down and kisses her forehead. Scott helps him to dress her but Chris covers her again with the jacket "I'll get the car and wait for you at the back door with her okay?" Chris says and Scott nods "They can't see me carrying her in my arms, people will take pictures and ... she wouldn't want that" he says buttoning the jacket so she won't be cold "don't worry, i'll see you there Chris" Scott squeezes his shoulder for support, but he was worry, he would never be able to take that memory out of his head.

Your head was going to explode "fuck" you cover your face with your hands as if that would help. "Take this" Chris offers you a pill and water. You take the pill and thank him, you were at his house, in his bed, he was sitting in an armchair next to the bed. He had bags under his eyes "You haven’t slept?" you ask him although you already know the answer "I couldn't sleep, how do you feel?" he asks "my head hurts, Chris..." you bite your lip "I'm sorry" you say both at the same time "why are you sorry? I'm the one who got drunk and...." You didn't want to say it out loud, "thanks for coming back" you say holding his hand "I shouldn't have left you alone" He caresses your hand  "I want ... I need to know if ... my memory is a little blurry...did he.." you stop "no, he ...he didn't" He says almost in a whisper and sits next to you on the bed. A weight has been taken off you, you had your doubts if he had....

"we can't go on like this" you say breaking the silence "i know" he simply says "I want to be able to hold your hand, dance with you, go to dinner without having to carry a mountain of papers to pretend it's a business dinner" he caresses your back "i know" he says again "I think you have to stop being my client" you say finally, his hand stops "I do not want to lose you" he finally says "i know" you say this time "but if we continue like this, you know that we will end badly, we have been like this for more than a year Chris" Chris looks away "what is the plan then?" he says staring at the wall "I’ll work for another actor, we can continue in secret for a few months and then make it public" Chris finally looks at you "I'm going to miss having you around all the time" he takes your hair away from your face "but it’s worth it if i can kiss you in front of everyone" You shorten the distance and kiss him "i love you" you say brushing his lips, in response he kisses you again.

A year later your life has given a radical change, now you work for Scarlett Johansson. Everything had worked perfectly, she needed a new publicist and Chris recommended you, to tell the truth, Chris told her about your relationship and as she already knew you, she hired you. Your relationship went public a few months after you stoped working for Chris, as always there were comments about sleeping with his client but most people were happy to see you and Chris together, even his fans seemed happy with the relationship. Although maybe it was because you were going to give him a son. You caress your stomach. Chris surrounds you with his arms and brings you closer to his body. You had endured a lot to get here, but it was worth it. This was your life and you wouldn't change it for anything. Chris, your son and Dodger, that's all you need it in your life.

THE END

I had planned to do more chapters but I know myself and if I extend it I will not finish it so I hope you liked it! 

MASTERLIST 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #261

“i hate you for every time you ever bled for me.”

If you have a job, how long is your shift? I'm unemployed. Do you ever wear your hair in a pony tail? It's too short for that. What language did you take up in high school? Latin for one semester, then I took four of German. Do you like sunflowers? It's illegal to live in the South and not lmao. Have you ever held hands with someone in a car? Yeah. Would you rather be called honey or baby? Hunny. What is your favorite card game? Even though I never learned it super well, I used to enjoy Magic: The Gathering and have actually been like dying to play it for months lmao. How many emails were you sent today? None. What was your favorite Christmas gift you got last year? Well I mostly got money life chose I didn't get to use, lol. I honestly don't really remember anything else prominently... sounds bad, but yeah, so is my memory lmao. What have you thought up yet for this year’s list? Well it's only April, but a treadmill or something like that is at the top right now. Do you have any embarrassing usernames? Ha ha, none that I still use. Do you have a backpack in a shape of an animal? No, but I almost got a meerkat one. But it was too small. :'( Have you ever waxed your legs? OW no. My hair is too long and thick. Have you ever taught a little kid to flick people off? lol wow no. Have you ever itched yourself until your skin was raw? I do that remarkably easy, especially on my legs. I literally have long scars from it. Do you always clear your history after using the computer? No. Have you ever had your food stolen by a bird? Ha ha nah. Are you responsible for stuffing someone's stocking? No. Do you make your own smoothies or juices? No. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? I absolutely hate raisins. What age do you think is too old to still live with your parents? It greatly depends on a lot of things: the person's health, financial position, etc. Have you ever watched Bob's Burgers? A couple times. It was pretty funny if I remember correctly. Denim, leather or varsity jacket? UUUUGGGGGHHHHH leather. I've wanted one since middle school. ;_; Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No. I honestly didn't pass notes, but I find it mean as FUCK when teachers do this. Privacy is a goddamn thing that should be respected. I do not support passing notes in class, like you're there to learn, but having it shared in front of all your peers is not the fucking answer. I get heated about this shit. What's your favorite perfume that you own? I only own one that's called "Blush" from rue 21. It smells really nice, though. Do you clean things that are already clean when you're bored? No. I'd rather clean something that isn't already. Do you have an older brother? Yes. What do you do when someone overweight complains about being overweight? Lol I'd probably say "mood," but it depends on our relationship of course. Like there're times to be humorous and light-hearted about it and other times when you don't make it about you. If they're clearly more sad and especially if I don't know them well, I'd say something like "I understand," because I can almost guarantee I do about this. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Have you ever been to jail? No, I'm a good noodle. :) Are your collarbones prominent? No. ;_; You can see them, yeah, but they're not like very obvious. It's one of my biggest motivators to lose weight though because I am dyinnnnggg for dermals there, but I think it would look weird without that contrast. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? When I was a kiddo. Ugly things. Do you own anything tribal print? No. Do you watch any beauty gurus on YouTube? I'm not even very interested in beauty, yet I love Jeffree Star??? Nikkie is cool too. I've found I watch more for personalities than content, in all genres of vids. Do you like Skittles? More like LOVE. Do you have a PillowPet? No. If you do, what kind of PillowPet do you have? N/A Do you have sleep paralysis? Thank the fuck to god no. That shit sounds absolutely terrifying. Is there anyone at home right now you wish wasn't? No. Do you like Placebo? Tbh I can't think of one song by them rn. I know I've heard them, Mom's even got a CD I'm sure I've tried out long ago when I got into her music, but obviously nothing stood out well enough, at least back then. Has anyone ever carried you to bed? As a kid, yeah, usually my dad. Could you happily date someone prettier than you? Yes???? Do you know anyone with cancer? Both my mom and grandmother right now. Are you easily offended? No. Do your parents buy you most anything you want? HI we've always been poor so no. Not just that, but they knew better than to spoil us. Have you ever tried to jump a fence? I have. Do you watch My Strange Addiction? No. How attracted are you to the last person that kissed you? A bit above moderately ig. Have you ever known a white supremacist? HUNNY I live in the South. In regards to who do you think "what if?" Jason as a fucking whole is my absolute "what if." Do you like the smell of a barbecue? Yes, even though I enjoy like almost no food at most of them. Doesn't stop it from smelling good. Has anyone ever called you apathetic or unemotional? I can't even imagine someone calling me that, no. I'm the polar opposite. How much money do you spend in a month on clothes or accessories? None in the average month. What was the last clothing item you wore that doesn't belong to you? A pair of Mom's pants. I didn't have any clean pairs. Do you own anything with your state or providence's name on it? No. Got no interest in sporting anything relating to a boring-ass, bigoted, racist state. How often do you hold back from saying what you are thinking? WOW A LOT!!!!!!!!!!! Do you like the Paranormal Activity movies? Yeah, I do. I mean yeah, they're fake, but what horror movie isn't even though it claims it is, honestly. How do you like your oatmeal? Apples & cinnamon with a bit of sugar. Does it make you feel better when an ex starts dating someone unattractive? No. Appearance doesn't mean shit when it comes to what the heart wants. What's your favorite way to eat peanut butter? In a sandwich w/ grape jam. Do you fall in infatuation easily? Infatuation, I'm not sure. Who has initiated most of your first kisses? Considering almost all previous relationships, usually me as they all knew I needed to go slow. I'd only do it if I was aware they'd wanted to kiss already, though. Do you like bows? Omg yes, cute shit. Has a boyfriend ever made you breakfast? Yes. Jason first went to college to be a chef. Are you more likely to show affection through your words or your actions? Probably words when you consider I'm slow with physically doing that, but I'm honestly really affectionate either way when I'm comfortable with you. Do you like Cheez-Its? VERY MUCH SO omg keep them away from me. Do you ever use coloring books? Not anymore. How do you feel about instrumental music? I have to be in the mood for it. Have you ever been on a trapeze? No. What's the coolest natural event you've ever witnessed? I still don't know to this day what it was, but I THINK it was a star exploding. Scared me, man. Seeing the big lunar eclipse last year was also wicked cool. Do you know how to use chopsticks? HA, I never could. Not with my tremors. Do you buy chocolate after Valentine's Day when it goes on sale? No, I don't need chocolate. Do you think bunnies are cute? I would fight God to give a lop-eared bunny one (1) pet. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I've had a friend get something published in a magazine before, and during one stay at the psych hospital, I met a published poet. His stuff was really good. Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? Otw home from Illinois. Do you know anyone who is left-handed? Yeah? I'd assume everyone would at least know one... If people could read your mind, what would they usually find? The thought "I'm bored" every five minutes. What's a song that makes you feel happy? "Jump" by Van Halen came to mind first. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube. Do you need money to be happy? To a degree, yes. Money can buy happiness - but again, to a degree. Saying it doesn't is bullshit. What's a good idea you've had recently? Probably just OC ideas, lmao. I've thought of some decently cool stuff recently. what is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? Cinnamon rolls uggggghhhhhh How many slices of pizza do you usually eat? Two or three if I'm seriously hungry. If you could switch places with someone for a day, who would it be? Is "Mark's girlfriend" even remotely surprising lmao but no seriously she's an amazing and productive person like I WISH. What's the last song you listened to? "Roots" by In This Moment is on rn. Do you like the movie Zootopia? Ye! Do you ever go on Pinterest? Yeah. What's the last kind of chocolate you ate? A Reese's. Tell me a line from the song you're listening to: "I'm stronger than I ever knew - I'm strong because of you." Have you ever participated in a march/protest? No. Have you ever performed in front of a large audience? Yeah, for dance classes and school stuff. What did you eat the last time you went to the movies? Popcorn. I may have gotten sour gummies, too? Idr. Who was the last person to see you cry? Mom. Do you listen to music every day? There are rare days where I don't. I'll be watching too many actual videos. Do you have a hard time making decisions? A STUPID hard time. I'm extremely dependent, including when faced with decisions. I second-guess myself with everything. Do you start the shower water before or after you get in? Before. How many times have you been to a museum? A good number of times. We live pretty close to an art + science one. Are you going to be getting any new pets soon? Most likely not. Would you rather be a Panda or Grizzly bear? A panda so it wouldn't be legal to shoot me lmao. Do the stairs in your house have carpet? We only have one floor. Can you do a twirl like a ballerina? Oh wow, no. Even when I was a dancer, I SUCKED at that. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Is your family dysfunctional? To a degree. How old were you the first time you travelled alone? 22? What's the longest hotel stay you've ever had? I don't know. Not long. We only ever really stayed at one when we had to go to Myrtle Beach for annual dance competitions, and those were only like, a weekend. What architectural style was your childhood home? Uhhh idk. Very normal. Tell me a bit about your last relationship. What was it like dating them? It was great, but also stressful because of distance. What's the largest animal you've seen in the wild? Maybe like a large buck or something. Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not that I'm aware of. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. What political issues are the most important to you personally? Gay rights and the pro-choice stance. Does your neighborhood have a community garden? I've never even heard of such a thing. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? Acting secretive or cryptic about who they are as a person. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? Visually that I've seen a good number of pictures of, Utah. Are there any obscure foods you've eaten that most people have never tried? I very much doubt that. What's the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I'm unsure. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? Yeah, I did one of those diet things before... but the name is evading me, even though it's super common. Nutrisystem, maybe? Do you have any pets? If so, how old are they? Venus is around five, and Roman is two. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? My psychiatrist and former therapist predict my discomfort around men, particularly when they're behind me, and extreme fear of rape is rooted in two kids from pre-k that used to chase, randomly hug the hell out of, and try to kiss me. I'd actually entirely forgotten about it until we really started to dig deep, so I guess it's a repressed memory. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? WOW no, son. What's your favorite DIY crafts youtube channel? I don't watch DIY stuff. What was your high school's mascot? Firebird. Who were your best friends in high school? Hannia, Megan, Maria, Girt, and Dennis were The Crew. Who was your first boyfriend or girlfriend? Aaron was my brief puppy-dog love, but Jason was my first real boyfriend. Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? Bottom. If I slept on the top, but bottom is getting crushed lmao. As a little kid though when Nicole and I shared a room, I had to have the top bunk until I got a bit older. What insects are you afraid of? BEETLES, CICADAS, AND LARVA GET THE FUCK OUT. Honestly most insects scare me to a degree. Have you ever had a secret admirer that left you notes? I think the aforementioned Aaron did in middle school at least once before we dated. What was your favorite thing to do at sleepovers when you were younger? Swimming in the pool, if they had one. What's one way in which you're still a child? I'm dependent as shit on my mom. What's one way in which you're old? I now say "back in the day" sometimes lmfao. Do you feel old or young? Or do you feel both at different times? Both at different times. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No. When you look at your baby pictures, do you recognize yourself? Only once at a certain age. What is your favorite thing to do in the pool? Just kinda swim around and think, or watch nature. Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? I know I have, but they're evading me, gaaaah. What color(s) eyeshadow do you wear the most? I only ever wear black. What’s your favourite brand of peanut butter? Uhhh never really paid much attention to brands. Do you put all your stuff for class in one binder or several? When I was in school, I had one binder with dividers, but I also had specific folders too. What’s your favourite Lunchables meal? The nachos. How many languages can you recite the alphabet in? Two. What’s your favourite flavour of sunflower seeds? I hate those. What’s your favourite flavor of muffin? Chocolate oof. Have you ever had carpal tunnel? I do. I haven't had problems in a couple months, though. Are you one of those people who is really smart but has no common sense? OW FUCK OFF. How old were you when you met your first love? I was just shy of 16. Did you get ice cream from the ice cream truck when you were little? Do they still have an ice cream truck where you live? We occasionally did as a kid, but they definitely don't have that where we live now. Has the last person you kissed met your family? She met my mom, dad, and younger sister. What was the last strong emotion you experienced? Who was responsible for it? Remorse. Myself. Have you ever had to cancel a bank account? Yes. Was the last conversation you had an argument? No. If you knew you had the right person, would you marry them today? I am not in the financial or mental position to get married right now. Where was the last place you got completely wasted? I've never been "wasted." If you could have anyone as your roommate, who would you choose? Sara. Have you ever changed the prices of items at a store? Wow no. Well, MAYBE when I actually worked in stores and I was supposed to, but I don't remember doing that. Do you go for walks often? I never do because of having no area to (my house is along a dangerous curve), and I need to be very careful because of muscle atrophy in my legs. I need to have easy access to a place to sit and recover or else I get very close to collapsing. As mentioned, I desperately want a treadmill. Would your parents disown you if you got pregnant? No, I'm 24 years old. My mom would never in her life do that at any age anyway. How strange do people say you are? Idk?? That's not something I really try to find out because my AvPD would possibly make me cry asldkfjwe. Have you opened food at a grocery store & ate it without or before paying? I would never do that without, but I have before in cases of being very dizzy and knowing I desperately needed food. How artistic are you? I think I'm pretty artistic, but more in concept than actuality... Like I have so so so SOOOOOO many ideas, particularly with drawing, I just don't. Do it. Can you legally drive? Not currently, because my permit has been expired since last year. Did anything dramatic go down yesterday? No. Do you find smoking unattractive? Very. Have you ever been in a situation where you had to be around your ex everyday? No, thankfully. Have you seen someone recently you used to talk to, but don’t anymore? No. Are you comfortable sharing drinks with your friends? No; I don't even share drinks with family. Honestly, have you ever written something on a bathroom stall? No, I hate that shit. When you were a kid did you ever look up “sex” in the dictionary? Actually no. I literally didn't learn anything about it 'til family life in the 5th grade. Is there anything written on the shirt you’re wearing right now? No. Are you shorter or taller than most of your friends? I'm a normal height, really. Honestly, do you double dip? If I'm sharing, no. All you have to do is break the chip. What was the last junk food you ate? I had a little bit of popcorn yesterday.

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7

oh my god you guys we’re so close to shit finally going down it’s gonna rock your fucking worlds and I cannot WAIT for you to undergo it it’s gonna be so much fun. also i know jack shit about charity galas so like... watch out for that. or botanical gardens, for that matter. anyway enjoy! pls tell me what you think this is my baby

Calum invites Aspen to a gala and it’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to her.

Well, technically it’s a fundraiser for the Gotham City Children’s Organization. Also, she’s gonna be more of an employee, strictly speaking, than a guest. And Mr. Hood really only asked her to work there this Friday evening, she’s not, like, his date or anything. He kinda sprang this whole thing on her. To be completely honest, too, it’s probably only the most exciting thing to happen to her in, like, two months, because she’s cool, goddamnit.

Anyway, Aspen is going to be working overtime this Friday evening and she couldn’t be happier.

She’s been wound up about this since he told her Tuesday. She’s gonna dress up all nice, she’s gonna rub elbows with the Gotham elite, she’s gonna unhinge her jaw like a python and eat an entire tray of canapés - it’ll be good for her.

They’ve all been stressed.

For her, it’s just that it hasn’t been long since the Liam fiasco. That was rough. And for his part, Calum looks more and more worn down. The tabloids in the grocery store checkout line told her he’s not seeing that nurse or reporter or whoever it was anymore. He’s been stiff lately, with bags under his eyes despite whatever million-dollar face cream he’s doubtlessly using. If she wasn’t being very disciplined about their relationship she’d tease him to switch away from decaf. Maybe he’s sick, she thinks. Could be the flu. Compromised immune system and whatnot.

He’s under a lot of stress, now, after the murder.

Trident Incorporated was next, in the string of CEO attacks, and it was so much worse, this time around. The police found the Barton Mathis’ body shot in the head with hundred dollar bills stuffed in his mouth. Aspen knows because she made sure Mr. Hood got to the funeral on time.

It’s… worrying. Worrying because her pattern holds; they’d been just about to sign a big contract with Trident when the man was killed. She knows it’s crazy, Calum wouldn’t kill someone. No matter how cold he may come off. She hopes so, anyways. Sometimes his mood changes like that, and even if he didn’t pull the trigger, this is Gotham. There are any number of people who would do it for the right price. It’s the money down the victim’s throat, of all things, that makes her change her mind. She’s seen his car - money certainly doesn’t disgust him.

So Calum isn’t the killer, probably. But that still scares her.

Because he’s probably next.

He doesn’t get a bodyguard. He doesn’t amp up security, he doesn’t tell Aspen about a panic room or anything. It’s like he hasn’t fucking realized the danger he’s in. Aspen knows it’s not her job to stress about that, but that doesn’t mean that creeping horror hasn’t settled into her ribs. All she can do is keep her mouth shut and help him through the financial quarter ending, which is no fucking picnic either, in case you were wondering. She gets used to working late. 

So, yeah, she could use a break. They all could.

Friday morning, she brings her dress with her, folded up in a plastic grocery bag. That morning, when she hands over the coffee, Alfred passes her a suit in a garment bag as soon as her hands are free. “Do try not to wrinkle it before the event, Master Calum.” He says, giving Aspen a little wink like he knows she’d never do such a thing.

Calum rolls his eyes at both of them, but he’s the closest to smiling he’s been in days.

“And you’ve got your outfit?” He ask her as they step into the elevator.

She nods and wiggles the plastic shopping bag hanging off her wrist. “Don’t worry, sir, I’m going to look very fiscally responsible.” She’s taking donations at the event, so she’s already wearing her most accountant-like cardigan, but she’s gonna class it up this evening. Her nails are painted, and they’re not chipped yet or anything.

Anyway, he smiles distinctly at that. She likes being able to do that. It’s like a magic trick. “It’s good to see you smiling again. Thought maybe you forgot how.” Aspen says, and this time she doesn’t even try to stop herself. She’s been very good for the past few weeks, and she needs a rest from acting soulless and polite. Really, she’s just being nice.

“What?” Mr. Hood turns to look at her. Maybe she’s been more serious than she thought, if he’s that surprised to hear her tease him.

“I mean, you’ve had some rough days. ‘M glad to see you looking a little more relaxed.” Aspen delicately refrains from making a joke, and just gives him a little shrug and the truth. It seems like this means a lot to him, anyway - it feels like the first time he’s looked at her and seen her in ages. That feeling comes back, the one she buried. “And, y’know, it makes my job a lot easier when you’re in a good mood. No offense. Sir.” She covers it again, hastily, and like a spell’s been broken the elevator doors open and she steps into the lobby.

“None taken,” she hears him murmur from behind her as she maneuvers herself and the bag through his office door. “You know when the car’s coming, right?”

“At three.” She slips easy into the day-to-day talk, like an old sweater. It’s welcome. She feels like she’s burning under her skin and from nothing. This is why it has to be so stiff; there’s so much she risks with too-kind words. “Guests start to arrive at four thirty, your talk is at five-thirty, and then at 8 there’s the after-gala at Note Bene.”

“You’re invited to that, too.” Aspen turns around from hanging up his garment bag. Mr. Hood is looking at her from behind his desk, adjusting his sleeves - maybe just so he has something to do with his hands. “You could come along. I didn’t know if you would want to but- you seem excited for this.”

Aspen tells herself he’s offering to be polite, which- he must be. She can’t fool herself like that. It’s the stupid chemistry, that’s all, it’s getting to her, and if she ignores it long enough it’ll go away. “Thank you, but that’s not really my scene, I think.” She smiles, shrugs. “Anything else I can help you with while I’m in here, sir?”

“No. Thank you for all you help with the event, though, Aspen. I’m glad to have someone I can trust in charge of donations.” He says. She remembers in her interview, only three weeks ago, how he had eyes that pinned her to the wall. She feels it in his gaze now, too.

She can’t linger.

“Just doing my job!” She chirps, darting out the door and closing it softly behind her.

She thought she was over this, what the fuck?

It’s not a great time for these feelings to resurface, since he’ll probably be looking real real good in his suit this afternoon. There’s isn’t really a good time to get a crush on your boss, though. Being so impersonal had been driving Aspen crazy, but the second she relaxes around that man she gets weak; maybe this time she’ll learn her lesson.

She gets to work. She’s sifting through emails when the first phone call of the day comes through, and she checks the clock - it’s not even nine yet. That’s interesting. She’s not suspicious, though, not yet.

“Hood Enterprises, how can I help you?” She asks in her very best secretary voice.

“Hello, Detective Gordon, GCPD. I need to talk to Mr. Hood.”

Aspen feels like a stutter. Shit. Does this mean - is her boss some kind of Patrick Bateman or - the lie comes to her in a split second. “Well, he usually doesn’t come in until nine, but I’ll see if I missed him coming in. Just one moment, alright?” She smiles, even though the man on the other end can’t see it, and as soon as he agrees she puts him on hold and transfers to call Calum.

Aspen’s been touched by Calum. She knows he’s not a killer. But if he’s mixed up in- if this is about Don Falcone, or- no matter how she tries to justify it, her first instinct was to protect him however she could. That’s foolish, she knows. But here she is.

Calum picks up before she can lose her liar’s nerve. “There’s a detective from the GCPD on the line for you.” She explains, praying she at least doesn't sound paranoid. “I was wondering if you were in.”

It's calculating, the silence on the other line. They're both careful not to say too much, even in normal situations, but this… it's a little more delicate.

“Did they mention their name?” He asks, which relaxes Aspen a little. It's not the worst answer he could have given.

“Ah, a Detective Gordon.” She says, which seems to be the right answer, because he asks her to connect him.

Aspen does, and then she has to hang up and live with what just happened, which is better than talking to a policeman. Only just, though.

She thinks Calum can't get mad at her for thinking he could have something to hide if he didn't want to talk on the phone.  Worst comes to worst, she'll say she wasn't sure if he'd want a lawyer or not. She knows he won't buy it, but it's a fair defence.

Now that she's got that figured out, she turns her attention to what her boss is hiding. Some offshore bank accounts? Or maybe Gordon is some cop he's paying off, to hide a secret double life. Maybe he's doing something wicked, just for the thrill of it. She’d say something related to escorts, but Aspen's pretty confident there's no one he couldn't have if he really wanted, so that's out.

Usually Aspen loves thinking up great and improbable theories for things she doesn't understand. It's different now, with Calum. She's got respect for him, and she doesn't want to lose that. It's probably healthy for her to drop her romanticized vision of him so she can get some fucking work done, if she's honest, but… god, she doesn't want to. Even after three weeks of being snapped at, she still sees a beauty in him, and that's rare. She kind of wants to chase that.

She keeps herself from thinking too much by listening to the phone messages that people left last night. Shit, she’s probably gonna have to come back in after the gala, isn’t she? Lots of emergencies and news happens at the end of the day, she should really- shit, no, this isn’t working, she can’t focus. She’s still turned upside down by what her boss might be involved in.

She tells herself she’s just worried for her job security. It doesn’t change anything.

She’s watching out of the corner of her eye and she sees when the line Calum’s being called on goes dead. How long is he going to wait before he called her in? He’s gonna want to talk about this, and ooh, who knew who could be listening? Wait, that’s a little cloak and dagger, even for her.

That’s what she thinks at the time, anyway. She has no idea.

He gives it only about a minute before he calls her and asks her to come into his office. It must be important, then. Aspen’s almost more curious than nervous; she’s pretty sure something is up, but she’s excited to see how Calum tries to brush it off. She steps in and smiles like she has no idea what to expect, like nothing’s wrong. “How can I help you?”

He’s writing something when she comes in, which she’s starting to think is a defence mechanism. He doesn’t make her wait, though, he puts his pen down as soon as she speaks up. “Oh, I just wanted to say that appreciate your discretion.” He says, face carefully controlled.

Very eloquent, he’s very good at this. She’s almost reassured. “Absolutely, sir. Should I do the same thing every time the police call, or-”

“You can transfer Gordon through directly, but otherwise… please. Yes.” He smiles stiffly, and Aspen can’t help it, she takes it as a challenge. She’s gonna find out what’s going on.

It’s like he can read her mind, because he says “None of that, Miss McMichael, don’t give me that look.” Aspen startles. Was it really that obvious? Does she have a look? She’s almost in trouble, judging by how he’s addressing her. 

Her heart starts to pound despite herself. “A cat may look at a king, sir.” She tries to cover, but that asshole sees right through her.

“I don’t want you getting the wrong idea about this, alright? Detective Gordon was letting me know about the security at the fundraiser. After the- um, I think you understand why it’s essential for our guests to feel safe.”

Shit.

Okay, maybe Aspen was a little hasty. “Of course, sir.” She says, making her most sympathetic face. Fuck, one of his peers was just murdered, no wonder he’s in touch with the police. She’d be nervous and shifty, too.

...it doesn’t quite explain why he only wants to hear from Gordon, but she’ll save that for later.

She makes a quick exit, now, after mumbling updates about all the messages she’s sifted through. A lot of people want to talk to Calum this morning, and as soon as business hours start he’s kept on the line pretty solidly through the morning and afternoon. In the middle of one of his phone calls, around noon, she sneaks in and puts a granola bar on his desk, and she’s out before she can see if he smiles at her for it. It’s been a, um, weird morning, and she wants to avoid anything that champagne could catalyze tonight. She’s just being a good PA, to be sure, but still.

The day drags on until three in the afternoon. Fifteen minutes before the car is supposed to come (god, Aspen feels so fancy when she thinks that), she shuts her computer down and stands up. Since the incident with Liam, she’s taken to locking the schedule in her file cabinet, just to be safe, so that’s what she does before she sneaks out of her office to get changed.

Aspen knows she’s not supposed to be attracting attention at this thing, so she’s dressed a little like a librarian. She borrowed a black slip dress from her roommate (since Aspen hasn’t bought a dress since, like, prom), and she’s wearing a grey cardigan over it to keep her looking tepid. Now, smoothing out the skirt in the bathroom mirror, she thinks happily that she’s not completely sexless.

She knows that’s dangerous, given her feelings for her boss (ugh), but since he doesn’t reciprocate what’s the harm in looking like a sexy librarian? The confidence will probably fade as soon as she’s surrounded by whatever designer tea gowns the guests will be wearing, but she doesn’t mind.

“You look nice,” Janice tells her once she emerges, and Aspen appreciates the gesture.

“Aw, thanks. I was going for an outfit that said ‘trust me with thousands of dollars’, you think it’ll go over well?” She smiles, and Janice nods. “I think I’m gonna come back after the thing just to check messages, so don’t worry about answering my phone.” She adds as she’s heading back to her desk, grabbing her coat and bag.

When she turns around, she sees Calum.

Here’s the thing; she knew he would look good. He looks good all the time, just business casual, but he looks good now, in a suit that looks expensive and tailored and beautiful. Fuck this, honestly, Aspen’s gonna have to avoid him all night to keep from making a fool of herself.

She blinks to take him in, and their eyes meet. He was looking at her, he must have been, looking properly. She knows she can’t hold a candle to him, not in her begged and borrowed outfit, but the fucking electricity between them makes her hope for a second-

“Ready to go?” He asks her. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was smirking.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Aspen says. Her voice comes out so much smoother than she feels.

How’s she supposed to handle the car ride? Being in a small enclosed space with him sounds like too good of an idea right now.

She waves goodbye to Janice as they head out, and she busies herself with the tablet he gave her for taking donations in the elevator so she has an excuse not to look at him too long. It reminds her that, right, she could get in serious trouble if she doesn’t stay focused here today, and that cools her down enough to relax a little.

Aspen had been hoping that Calum would have a limo to take there, so when it’s his usual sedan waiting outside she feels a little let down. It doesn’t make sense for him to take a limo if he’s showing up before everyone else, she guesses, no one to show off for, but she had been hoping... Whatever. Alfred opens the door for her, and she slides in and immediately finds herself next to a kid with black hair and the bluest eyes she’s ever seen. He’s little, wiry, and he’s maybe twelve. Calum follows her in, and maybe he senses her confusion. “Aspen, this is my ward, Dick Grayson. Dick, this is my assistant, Ms. McMichael.”

Dick Grayson puts out his hand to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, miss.” He says, with confidence you don’t usually find in a pre-teen.

Aspen is used to things being weird by now, so she reaches out and shakes his hand, just to be polite. “Likewise. Hey, you can call me Aspen, people only call me Ms. McMichael when I’m in trouble.” She smiles, just to put the kid a little more at ease. It’s eerie, seeing someone so young so formal.

It seems to work well enough, because as the car starts Dick smiles so wide his face almost cracks open. That’s better. “I read one of your research papers. About, um, the protein in the cell membrane, the, um, it was a sort of, um, ATP pump, the-”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, the effects of the SNP mutation- I remember. How’d you like it?”

Dick screws up his face and then immediately tries to smooth it out, regain his composure. He’s still trying to be polite, Aspen thinks, which is adorable but so not her style. Plus, he’s like eleven, he shouldn’t have composure. “It was-” he says-

“Godawful to read, right?” Aspen slouches back into the car seat, hoping if she relaxes the kid will relax. This might be the first time she’s slouched in front of Calum, she thinks, but she tries to ignore how she knows that.

She knows what she’ll see if she looks over at her boss; him watching her intently with those eyes like stars, some bright fire burning inside him. His eyes have a light to them she can’t escape. She thinks he does it with everyone - he’s been giving her looks like this since the interview, after all.

Sometimes she likes to pretend it’s just for her, though. She can feel the fabric of his suit pants brushing against her bare leg, and sometimes the warm weight of his thigh when the car turned the corner. This backseat doesn’t nearly feel big enough for the three of them, all in a row. She can’t believe her brain’s going haywire just because he’s close. 

She focuses on the child beside her, on the science. That’s what she knows, not people. She knows the proteins and serums they’re made of, but even her own human heart is confusing. “Scientific writing can be - it’s hard to be accurate and interesting at the same time. It’s kind of stupid. But, hey, we’ve got like, fifteen minutes of this car ride, if you have any questions I’ll answer them.” She says.

“You don’t have to,” she hears, and Calum touches her elbow softly. It burns through her cardigan. How does he do that? “Dick knows you’re not here to entertain him.” She turns to look at him, catches his eye, and oh- it’s that look, she knew it.

Her mouth goes dry. She tries to ignore it.

“Nah, it’s my pleasure. You haven’t let me talk about science for two weeks, I’m deprived.” She finds it in her to scold right back. She controls her movement as she turns back to Dick Grayson, so it doesn’t look like she’s trying to break his gaze before she combusts. “Anything I can help you understand?”

“What’s an ATP?”

That’s how Aspen spends the car ride, then, instead of thinking about the man beside her. It seems to work; by the time they reach the venue she’s not as jittery, as raw, as she might be. And hey, to his credit, Dick is a good kid; he’s excited to learn what he can and he laughs at her jokes. Aspen likes that in anyone.

The venue is the Gotham Botanical Gardens, which Aspen is also real excited about. She’s going to sneak into the greenhouses if she gets the chance, but for now she keeps pace with Mr. Hood and Dick Grayson as they weave their way through the armed guards. There’s at least two cop cars that she can see - it all seems a little extreme to her, but it’s Gotham. She glances over at Dick - he seems a little freaked out, too. At least it’s not just her delicate sensibilities.

As soon as they’re into the ballroom - ballroom, Jesus, this city is extravagant when it gets the chance - Calum is dragged away by a harried man in a very nice suit. Someone shows Aspen to a table and introduces her to the woman who’ll be making sure any checks that are written don’t go missing. Renee Montoya has a gun at her hip and iron in her stare, but Aspen gets her talking about her work and eventually the woman warms up. Things seem to be going smoothly with the preparations (she’s keeping an eye on Calum, it’s her job, okay?) when suddenly there’s a BANG and someone screams.

Montoya actually pushes Aspen behind her as she takes out her gun, all in one smooth motion, and half the cops around the room are doing the same, searching for the source of the noise.

It’s happening. This is it. Aspen looks for Calum instinctively, can’t find him, oh, shi-

“Shit, goddamn it- we’re okay, everybody, Jesus, this kid-”

Time unfreezes. The police officer who swore is clutching his wrist, almost doubled over, but there’s no blood. Aspen lowers her fists. She’s not sure when she got into a fighting stance, but as she relaxes and the officers lower their guns she feels a little silly for it.

They’re all on edge, she supposes.

Her next thought is to find Dick. There’s only one kid in this building, at least as far as she knows, and she does not underestimate his capacity for trouble.

Another look around find both him and Calum - Aspen feels like she’s intruding, seeing them hug on the other side of the ballroom. Plus of course he’s a good father figure, because apparently the universe hates her and wants her to suffer.

She supposes she’s gotten attached to Dick, that’s why she strides over as they start to part. Dick isn’t crying, but he does look a moment from it when she comes up. Aspen’s not exactly nurturing, she doesn’t know if she can help, but she wants to. “Hey, you doing alright? What happened?” She asks him.

Dick looks up at Calum, who nods at him to tell her. It’s sweet. “I was looking for the bathroom and the officer found me. I think he thought I was lost, but he grabbed my shoulder an’ I didn’t know he was there and I panicked. I made a mistake.”

Aspen can’t blame him for being shaken. “Well, it is bad manners to grab people.” She says. Dick kind of cracks a smile at that. “Hey, it’s only a mistake if you let it happen again, that’s what I think. Don’t worry too much about it.”

When she glances up, Calum is smiling. “Do you mind staying with Dick until the guests start to arrive?” He asks her. “The planner’s had three separate crises since we got here.”

Aspen nods. “I’m good with that as long as you are.” She says to Calum’s ward, who looks unsure, but nods.

That’s a good sign. She’s glad he’s okay.

As soon as Calum’s gone she focuses in on the boy, who looks at her solidly. He is a little old for her to be babysitting him, but for now she’s free to goof around, so she doesn’t mind. “Did you find anything cool while you were looking for the bathroom? I’ve been trying to sneak into the greenhouses since we got here.”

“Just the kitchens.” Dick says, shaking his head.

Fuck yes. “Just the kitchens? Buddy, we gotta check it out. I’m sure if you look sad and cute enough they’ll give us all kinds of leftovers.”

“You think?”

“Give me your best puppy-dog eyes.” Aspen says.

Dick complies.

“Jesus, you are good. Those chefs aren’t gonna know what hit them.”