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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Be Forever Young (Reid Fluff Fic)

Summary: After Penelope’s resignation from the BAU, she attempts to set up her tech protégé, Reader, with Reader’s intellectual match yet much older counterpart - Dr. Spencer Reid.

A/N: The POV switches between Reader and Spencer, just use context clues to detect who the narrator is. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: 21 year age gap, headcannon proposal Playlist: Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny Word Count: 6.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Prologue

Events like these weren’t exceedingly rare. They weren’t anything like Halley’s Comet, by any means, where it only happens once in your lifetime - if you’re lucky. But they weren’t exactly sunrises - something that you can count on occurring every day without fail.

The best celestial phenomenon I could compare it to are blue moons. Rare enough to still have an element of surprise when they came, but not so rare that I should never expect them.

These ‘blue moons’ are actually the events in which I meet an intellectual match.

It’s not too often that I find a mind quite like mine, so you’ll forgive me for the reaction it elicits to watch them transcend the physical level and connect with me on the psychological one. There’s only been a handful of people who’ve ever had the exact standard of aptitude to be permissible into this metaphysical world with me, but now - there’s a handful and one.

The newest addition to the list is her.

_ _ _

Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia is nearly impossible. Getting a word in edgewise when it comes to a conversation with Penelope Garcia about Dr. Spencer Reid is impossible.

I couldn’t tell you when the first time she brought him up was, but I could probably tell you just how many times since then she’s mentioned him.

A trillion. At least.

For months on end, he was the only thing she would talk to me about. Morning, noon, and night. Every single day she’d gush about him with the same unrelenting zeal as she had the day before and the day before that. It was both scary and impressive how she never seemed to run out of good things to say about him.

“You would just die for his apartment. It’s got this super chic dark academia thingy going on. You’d be really into that,” she would say. Or something to that effect. I was never really listening.

Not that I wasn’t interested in learning about Dr. Reid - I was very interested in him.

As a superior.

I first learned of him when he taught my Psych 101 class. Freshman year me was simply enthralled with him as a speaker, probably due to the charm of his awkward humor. I found it eerily relatable and touching, in a way. That was probably my favorite class, minus the assholes who made it less than enjoyable at times. (That’s a story for later).

The next interaction I had with him happened not even a year later when he came back after temporarily teaching to sit in on a philosophy class. Even though he was only auditing the lecture, whereas I was enrolled in the course, he ended up sitting in the seat right beside me. Had he not been gifted with an eidetic memory - a fact I found out during one of my obsessive research sessions - I doubt he would’ve even remembered sitting next to me.

Our shared field of work helped to bring us back together repeatedly throughout college. I would run into him at seminars, workshops, once even at a library where we were both looking for the same book.

But for the most part, our relationship was parasocial. It largely consisted of me learning from him at a distance. I would use his brilliant research to support my own assignments, read the books he recommended, audit the classes he would teach.

Rather than accurately interpreting my very limited, very professional connection to Dr. Reid, Penelope was deliberately using it as ammunition for her arsenal of reasons why I should consider dating him.

“You guys are basically already friends, and nothing is cuter than the friends-to-lovers trope!” Now that she actually did say, and the only reason I remember it verbatim was it was so outrageous I couldn’t not remember it.

And probably because she just said it to me right now.

“We’re not friends! We’re ... acquaintances. Colleagues, if you will.” My attempts to gain distance from Penelope and this topic of conversation were crashing and burning. The more I tried to walk away from her, the faster she would chase me. It was inconceivable how she managed to do that and continue to pelt me with her perky persistence.

“Even better! You know I’m no stranger to workplace romances.”

That I did. One Derek Morgan or one Luke Alvez ring a bell?

“Dr. Reid and I don’t work together,” I reminded her, if only to burst her bubble of insanity.

“Exactly my point! If you two don’t work together, then there’s nothing keeping you apart.”

I was stopped dead in my tracks, almost causing Penelope to trip since she was right on my heels.

“Nothing? Really? Try 21 years.”

That surely kept us apart.

Our age gap was one of those glaring disparities Penelope couldn’t wave away with her magic wand. Frankly, it wasn’t an age gap so much as it was an age Grand Canyon. He was a whole person of legal drinking age older than me!

Hell - our age gap itself was older than me!

Maybe there weren’t any contracts or agreements or supervisors to keep us apart, but there was still one significant thing doing that.

Time. Arguably the most important thing you needed to get right for a relationship to work.

If there were any chance that he and I were good together, that was squandered by our divergence in age.

Right person, wrong time ... but wrong time by more than two decades.

I could see the smallest fragment of hope wither away in Garcia’s eyes, and it actually hurt to have known that I caused that. Her voice was more solemn when she said, “You don’t have to date him, I just want you to go on a date. Get to know each other better. Who knows? You might finally graduate from colleagues to BFF’s.”

Not that I was seriously considering the possibility of growing closer to Dr. Reid, but there was one question lingering in my mind.

“Does he even want to go on this date? Have you asked him how he feels about it?”

Part of why I was wondering was on the off chance that she’d tell me he had the same objections towards this that I did, which would be good news for me since it would mark my reluctance as a sound judgment. If there was anyone whose opinion was worth something, it was his, right? After all, he was the provable genius in the same compromising position as me.

“Trust me, he’s been dying to do this.” In spite of her preface to trust her, I didn’t. I couldn’t be sure if she was suggesting that he’d been dying to go on a date with me or if he’d been dying to go on a date in general.

No offense to him, but I guessed it was the latter, and if that was the case, he was only being a team player because she hadn’t told him it was me she was setting him up with. Already suspecting that I’d probe further to navigate through her vagueness, she cut in with one last Hail Mary. “One date! That’s all!”

Whether you believe me or not, 100% the only reason why I said what I said next was to put an end to this madness. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Maybe 99.99%.

_ _ _

I never knew how I could lose so much time. Sure, if anyone asked, I could probably account for everything I’d done in my day, second by second. But still, there was this cloudiness, a fog, inhabiting my brain, casting this haze on whatever else dwelled in my mind, too.

I couldn’t focus on anything for more than 4 seconds at a time, and while that wasn’t incredibly concerning for the average human, it was disconcerting for me.

What was going on?

What is going on?

“What’s going on?”

Suddenly, a hand began to wave in front of my face. “Yoo-hoo? Anybody in there?” JJ wondered aloud, causing me to realize it was her voice that asked the question from before.

“Yeah, sorry,” I shook my head to regain some clarity, but that did me no good. My foggy brain still remained. It goes without saying my words were worth nothing as well. JJ saw right through me in a way that never failed to scare me shitless. I could never conjure up a lie good enough to follow that look she’d give me. So I settled for the truth. The question that cast the haziness in my brain to begin with.

“What do you think about me dating again?”

If I thought that first look was bad, then the one she was giving me now was something of a nightmare. At least with the first, I knew what she was thinking. With this one, I hadn’t a clue.

To relieve us from some of the insufferable silence, I found myself speaking again in my defense. “Garcia mentioned something earlier about setting me up with someone and it got me thinking.”

Thinking about Max that is.

Being my most recent girlfriend, it made sense why she was freshest in my mind. That being said, we’ve been broken up for 14 months, which in any other context would seem like more than enough time to start dating again, but therein lies the catch.

We didn’t just break up. She said “no” when I asked her to marry me, which, if you ask me, is one hell of a way to break up.

So from that perspective, it obviously begs the question: is 14 months too fast to move on from something like that?

JJ sharply inhaled. “Well, are you ready to start dating again?”

I still didn’t have an answer for that myself. “I don’t know. There isn’t exactly a rulebook on how long you have to wait until it’s socially acceptable-”

“Lemme stop you right there, Spence,” She placed her hand on top of mine. “You can’t just do whatever statistics or studies or science say is right all the time. You not only need to be more in tune with your own needs but accepting of them, too. Screw what anyone else has to say about you dating again - including Socrates, including Einstein, including Aristotle ... including me. Do whatever you think is acceptable by your standards - not society’s. Do what you wanna do and I’ll support that.”

There was something special about having JJ’s approval. It was like getting permission to be excited, something I didn’t know I needed or wanted.

“I’m ready.”

Born ready, as Penelope herself would say.

_ _ _

I was starting to get suspicious that maybe I had an invisible string attached to me and on the other end of that string was Penelope. It was the only explanation as to how she managed to trail behind me at an isochronal pace. Perfectly equidistant, perfectly equal intervals of time. Must’ve been some form of magic that she was able to synchronize that connection for as long as she did as we pranced around the office, basically chasing me.

“Okay, I know the date isn’t until Saturday, but I really think we need to amp up your wardrobe choices ... like stat.”

Hearing that I was seeing my superior still didn’t settle well with me. I don’t think I could ever get used to the thought.

I should’ve been offended at her suggestion to change my clothing taste as it implied my stylistic choices weren’t up to par, but a part of me, a very small part of me, knew she was right. And just because I wasn’t keen on the idea of going on a date with Spencer didn’t mean I didn’t want to look nice for him for it.

“I’m assuming you’ve got some ideas in mind,” I said in a teasing voice, knowing that’s precisely why she brought it up.

“See! You are a genius! Exactly why you and Spencer are meant to be together!” Her exclamation was just as loud as it was outlandish.

“Alright, calm down sparky,” I shot a warning look. “It’s just one date - we’re not soulmates.”

Then, talking in the quietest voice I didn’t think Penelope was capable of speaking with, she said, “Not yet.”

I knew the minute I showed even the littlest bit of interest in Penelope’s fashion guidance, I’d end up draped in ruffles, sequins, glitter, tulle, rhinestones, or all of the above. Nothing again Penelope’s personal style - it’s just not mine.

I was scared to ask, but I had to know. “So what were you thinking?”

Before my very eyes, Penelope’s constantly-there smile transformed, something akin to the mischievous grin of the Cheshire Cat. “I was thinking …”

In a Mary Poppins-esque fashion, Penelope produced a dress that in no feasible reality should have been able to fit within that little Hello Kitty side bag.

I suppose it must’ve been absolutely backbreaking for Penelope to refrain from choosing a multicolor or at least pattern-riddled dress, so as compensation for the fact that it was only one singular color throughout, it had to be a bold one.

Red.

“Not too shabby, right?” Her eyebrows jumped on her forehead, knowing she’d made a good choice.

And a part of me actually died saying this, but it was pretty perfect.

_ _ _

My life didn’t flash before my eyes, per se, the moment I finally arrived at the delicatessen. It was more like a very specific, singular memory had flashed before my eyes.

That story for later? This is the one.

Psych 101 was my best class in Freshman year ... by a long shot. Come rain, wind, or snow, I was always excited to go. It was a standout course on its own, but not because it was terribly spectacular or the most fascinating subject in the world, but more so because of how it changed my own person. It challenged me, like all worthwhile things do.

There were more judgmental meatheads - boys, if you will - than not, who would jump down my throat for being a smart ass or a teacher’s pet if I so much as answered one of Dr. Reid’s questions. Par for the course, really.

As a result, I had a proclivity to avoid raising my hand. It wasn’t that I was hyper-fixated on managing my reputation, just that participating wasn’t worth the eventual harassment from my dimwitted classmates.

Nonetheless, one day, I felt compelled to answer Dr. Reid when he asked what our thoughts were about the sampled, pretense manifesto.

No one else was jumping at the chance to speak, perhaps they were just as cowardly as I was, and it was clear that he was going to stand there waiting until someone finally would. The silence was painfully awkward for everyone and so I felt obligated, as a student who was actually enrolled in the class for credit and not just to audit like 90% of the other girls here, to break it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, my hand hesitantly inched up into the air until it floated just high enough above the student in front of me’s head. As soon as I knew he saw it, I let it plunge straight back down.

“Yes, Ms. (y/l/n)?”

I could already feel the dirty looks and snide comments coming before I even said a word.

“I know we’re all collectively referring to this unsub as a man, and while that might just be a general assumption or Freudian slip perhaps ... I think the language is steeped in betrayal and contempt. And it would be ignorant not to notice how it reads more like the wrath of a woman scorned than your typical jilted male lover.”

“Lover?” Someone two rows back snickered quietly, clearly to mock my choice of words. I didn’t even have to look to know it was Brad who had said that. Nevertheless, Dr. Reid was impressed with my answer. His lips curved into the faintest smile as he nodded his head. If he had heard the commentary of one Brad Sterling, he made no visceral reaction to it.

With an extended hand, palm facing up, he gestured for me to, “Please. Stand up.”

I fumbled my way up and out of my seat to possibly delay the shit I’d get for this mere action.

“That, ladies and gentleman, is what it looks like to have courage,” He underlined his words with a grand flourish of his hand in my direction. “Putting yourself on the line even in the event you’ll be mocked and ridiculed or deemed wrong. That’s something you’ll need if you are seriously considering being part of the BAU, or the FBI at any capacity.”

My face was flushed from the acclaim he was showering me with. Suddenly, I was glad I volunteered.

Taking me completely by surprise, Dr. Reid wasn’t done yet.

“So, Mr. Sterling,” He began, directly calling out the boy in the back who without a doubt made the remark. I wouldn’t have had any reason to believe he heard it since his attention never diverted away from me long enough to catch the comment, much less the culprit. I wonder if he’d heard all the times Brad made jokes at my expense. Was he finally at his wits end with the sarcasm? “Make fun all you want, but might I suggest that if you like a girl, you do the opposite of that.”

His sickly sweet drawl was followed by a short wink at me as if to say ‘I have your back’, and I was lucky to have already been in the process of sitting back down because my knees would’ve given out underneath me from the sheer exhilaration of his praise.

The thought never once crossed my mind that Brad was so fixated on me because he had a crush, but it all made sense once it did. And if I didn’t know any better, Dr. Reid only humiliated him and brought it up because the realization dawned on him, too.

Was it possible that Dr. Reid was ... jealous?

In the spirit of complete transparency, that suspicion may have lit the tiniest wildfire imaginable in my chest. A wildfire that, even now, has yet to extinguish. Perhaps that little flame is the 0.01% of the reason I said yes. I could only imagine what kind of omnipotence it would soon gain if this date went well.

If he could light such an enduring kindle with simple praise, think about what would happen if he smiled at me. If he laughed at my jokes. If he held my hand.

If he kissed me.

Dr. Reid’s validation would be something I actively sought from all walks of life, I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how far that desire would take me.

I would have never guessed it would lead me here.

Standing in front of a fancy restaurant in a pretty red dress with the tenuous hope that the professor inside might just like it so much that he’ll end up liking the girl wearing it, too.

_ _ _

No matter how many times I adjusted the bouquet of poppies, they sat perpetually crooked on the table. Much like the dark gray tie around my neck that tightened around my throat with every passing second. I had to keep messing with it to loosen the noose-like grip it had on me. Who knew if it actually was becoming more restricting or it was the flourishing bundle of nerves in my stomach that made it harder to breathe.

I was never very good at lying in wait patiently. Especially if I was expecting something. Now that I was expecting someone? I could say with perfect clarity - I was not good at waiting.

I don’t wanna seem the way I do

Every time the door opened, my eyes flashed to it instantaneously. And every time it wasn’t her, a little part of me was disappointed. It was still too early to say for certain that she was standing me up, but my mind was doing what it did best. It wandered. There was nothing else to do after all.

Except maybe adjust those blood orange poppies one more time.

I’d picked them out specifically because Penelope slipped in a not-so-subtle comment about her dress being “a perfect match to the color of papaverales” - her words exactly. I thought if she went through that much trouble to find a color coordinated plant and say the scientific name for me to decode, it was worth picking up a bouquet of them on the way.

It was only the most ironic occurrence in the world that when I went to rearrange them one last time, I devoted my full attention to the action, missing the very moment I was on the lookout for the past hour and a half.

I didn’t even see her until the red poppies camouflaged into the identically colored setting of her dress.

Then there she was.

All the disappointment in the world was worth that first time I saw her with fresh eyes.

I was dumbstruck for a moment, long enough that it warranted an apology for not standing up sooner.

“(Y/n)! Hi!” I accidentally squealed. I couldn’t control myself, let alone control the pitch of my voice apparently.

I could see, in her, youthful naivete where, in others, I saw their age. She paradoxically had not aged a minute, and yet a new womanhood was piercing through her ultimately adolescent appearance.

“Hi, Dr. Reid,” She said through a laugh and a smile, shaking my hand politely and professionally. She was greeting me like I was still her professor and she’d just happen to run into me on an errand. Next, she’d be attempting small-talk for as long as it took for me to let her go.

Unfortunately for her, I had no plans for that.

But I’m confident when I’m with you

“Please, it’s just Spencer,” I reminded her, hoping to break down that governing image of me she surely maintained.

“Spencer,” She tried again; doing it more to be obedient to my instruction than to satisfy her own desire. It sounded so unnatural to her, just as it did to me. I found it adorable, actually. It seemed like she was breaking this unspoken, and very much illusionary rule to say my first name. “It’s nice to see you again,” She added after I pulled out her chair for her.

“Is it?” I asked when I rounded the table to get to my seat. “I get the feeling you’re a little disappointed.” The only reason I pointed it out was that it was true, not just that I’d observed the notion grow more poignant in her face for the past minute.

“Not at all,” She shook her head, which luckily for me, drew a line of congruence between her body language and verbal language. At least, she was being truthful. “It’s just that I’m sort of embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” I repeated in astonishment, unable to cultivate a list of reasons that would justify her feeling that way. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to provoke that emotion, and it nearly broke me to consider her internal being substantiating it.

“Embarrassed isn’t the right word, but I can’t find a more accurate one for what I’m feeling,” She shied away from my eyes when she lowered her head as she spoke.

“You could try to explain it to me?” I offered gently. It took an overwhelming amount of self-restraint to not offer my hand with it. It would’ve been so easy to slide my hand across the threshold to enter her territory of the table, but who knows if doing so would just make her that much more uncomfortable.

“Well for one thing, I don't really go on dates,” From this alone, I could already relate to her enough to laugh at the fact. “Don’t laugh at me! You know how dangerous first dates can be,” She swatted her hand in my direction to chastise me.

“I do! I do! I think it’s really good that you’re protecting yourself to the point of avoiding dates,” I was teasing the implication that she wasn’t asked to go on very many, which was thankfully delivered well enough to make her laugh again.

“Hey! Many people have wanted to go on dates with me, thank you very much. You included.”

“Me included.” I nodded in approval. We sat in a short period of silence while we exchanged one soulful glance, borne from the insinuation of what I just said.

“And for another ... I respect you too much as a figure of authority to see you in that way.”

_ _ _

“In what way?”

Rather than tossing me a lifeline, he was feeding me to the sharks. Forcing me to dive into the deep end. He wanted to see me struggle to stay afloat in the sea of his sticky toffee eyes. He knew I'd get suspended in them when he gave me that look. How much I’d be willing to get lost in them just so I could wander in the depths of his honeyed orbs for a little bit longer.

That look ...

“You don’t find it weird?” This was the most honesty I could’ve demonstrated.

“Find what weird?” For someone with such a high IQ, you’d think he’d be quicker on his feet.

“This! You - me. On a date!” I gestured to the space between us. “You’re ... well frankly, Spencer, you’re old enough to be my father.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He genuinely cared about the answer.

“Only in theory. Not in actual life,” was the most precise response I could give.

“So what is making you uncomfortable?” Again, I could tell my answer mattered to him.

“You were my professor once, and now I’m just supposed to go on a date with you and see you as my equal when I’ve spent the entire time I’ve known you, putting you on a pedestal? Do you know how much pressure that puts on me? To be perfect?”

“Who says you have to be perfect? Who says you’re aren’t already?”

That one caught me off guard. I had to gulp down the lump of shock.

“You think I’m perfect?”

“That, or you’re pretty close to it.”

Lately all I feel is bad and bruised

I could’ve smiled, I could’ve thanked him, I could’ve fallen at his feet and thrown my dignity down there along with it, but I just laughed. I laughed.

“That’s ridiculous! You barely know me.”

“You’re wrong,” He simply replied with a firm shake of his head and a cavalier sip at his drink. It showed just how confident he was in his answer. How cocky he was.

“How am I wrong?”

He cleared his throat as though he were preparing to deliver the world’s greatest speech. Then, he leaned forward, motioning with his fingers for me to do the same.

“If I’m remembering correctly, which you know I am, you were the student who had the gall to raise your hand and correct me on my gender identification of the unsub, right?”

The second the sentimental thought, ‘aww he remembered’, came into my head, it was soon followed by, of course, he did, idiot. Eidetic memory, remember?

Tired of tripping on my shoes

“What does that have to do with me being perfect? Or so you claim?”

He was piercing deep into my eyes now, his gaze overwhelming my senses and sending shockwaves akin to the feeling of butterflies everywhere … and I mean everywhere.

“Bravery is the audacity to be unhindered by failures, and to walk with freedom, strength, and hope, in the face of things unknown.”

I recognized the quote as one of Morgan Harper Nichols, but the words went right to my chest like they were his own.

That damn wildfire just got a whole lot bigger.

“I’ve always thought about how if I could be unfazed by failure or even just the prospect of it, if I could just be strong enough or have enough hope to face what I couldn’t predict, I’d be set. I’d be golden,” He paused. “I’d be perfect ... but you? You, little one, have already got that figured out. So whether that means you’re perfect on your own because of your bravery or you're a perfect match for someone fainthearted like me, is up for you to decide. Whichever interpretation of being perfect you choose would be correct, but you should know - I meant both either way.”

But when he loves me I feel like I’m floating

When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody

Even when we fade eventually to nothing

You will always be my favorite form of loving

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked when he finally refound his voice.

“Since the minute I walked in.” I replied after refinding mine.

_ _ _

“You always take girls to your apartment on the first date, Doctor?” Asking this in the name of taking a jab at him was the most clever way I could think to conceal my underlying motive of trying to gauge how giddy I could let myself feel about the fact that he’d taken me to his ‘super chic dark academia’ themed residence - Penelope’s words, remember?

“Well, in my abundant dating history,” He sarcastically began, “I can’t say I ever have, no. You’d be the first.”

That shot another quick bolt of lightning to the wildfire in my heart that I’m ashamed to admit made the heat reinvigorate. The flame must’ve been too much for my chest to contain so it had to relocate to my face, where my cheeks were left to burn under his gaze and thanks to his admission.

I was the first.

He must’ve seen the glint localizing on my countenance and decided to speak on it. “Why does that amuse you?”

“I don’t know,” I dumbly but truthfully replied. He didn’t need any more information to get his answer, though. Because even if I didn’t know what amused me about being his first, I never denied that it did, and that was more than enough confirmation for him.

“You promise to be here when I come back?” He wagged a cautionary finger at me like it might persuade me to stay and hold me accountable if I didn’t.

Spencer needed to go into his room to collect an item that ‘shall not be named’ but was apparently essential for our super secret plans tonight (secret to even me) and he was leaving me in the living room while he did so. I guess being the initial girl he took home on a first date was okay, but being the initial girl he took into his bedroom on a first date was crossing a line.

That was alright with me, though. I was in this for the long haul.

“I promise I pose no flight risk, Your Honor,” I taunted with a coy tone. “But I can’t promise I won’t snoop around some.” Hey, at least I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Snoop around all you want,” He laughed ruefully, demonstrating an openness I quite envied and admired. “You’ll probably learn a lot about me that way. And you won’t even have to talk to me to do that!” I knew he was only saying that out of self-deprecating tendencies he harbored, but I couldn’t help feeling that a small part of him actually believed that I wasn’t interested in talking to him.

“Spencer, you know I do like talking to you right?” I caught him just before he ran into his room. Already halfway in the door, I could still catch the megawatt smile on his face.

“So stay then,” His smile grew impossibly bigger. “We can talk all you want when I get back.”

The door closed, and then suddenly reopened to let just his face through, a face that said, ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

After a few minutes of loudly sorting through his room, I heard the sanctimonious cry of victory. “Found it!”

I could hear the little pad of his feet and he happily trotted out of the room. “Ta-da! My stargazing kit.” He said it as though he were introducing the basket he was holding to me, and me to it. Like it was a real person he wanted me to know. I almost felt obliged to say, ‘Hi stargazing kit! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m (y/n)!’

“Let’s go,” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I unabashedly took it, because although it meant that I was truly leaving his apartment, I had a very strong feeling that I would be back here again one day.

_ _ _

We were lying there on this big quilted comforter that was stashed away in that stargazing kit of his, staring up at the sky, drunk on the sound of our occasional fits of laughter.

“It’s Earth Day, you know that?” I wondered aloud in a state of complete euphoria.

“I actually did,” He said through a sheepish laugh, almost as if he was admitting the knowledge of it against his own will to protect my fragility.

From out of nowhere, there was a small tug on the skirt of my dress. I looked down to find Spencer’s hand there, playing with the fabric until it lay perfectly on my leg.

I coughed to possibly relieve the tension brewing in my loins. “So then you know the Lyrid meteor shower is tonight,” I moved the tiniest bit closer to lean into his touch.

“At exactly 4:33 a.m,” He moved too.

“Is that why you brought me here? To watch the shooting stars? To make a wish?” I thought for a second that I would appear exceedingly childish - more so than I already did being 21 years his junior. But he didn’t judge me at all for the kid-like notion of making a wish on a shooting star or the implication that I still believed in those things.

In fact, I piqued his curiosity, telling by the way he moved only his head to the side to watch my reaction. “Say I did. What would you wish for?”

In the throws of dreamy elation, I softly murmured the only honest answer. “To be older. But not the unfulfilling 9 to 5, loveless marriage, ‘I do my taxes for fun’ older. I want to be old in the ways that the stars and the sky are old. I want to be infinite.”

“...To be infinite.” He whispered my wish back, sounding sort of in awe of me.

Just then, the overhead horizon grew larger. With no buildings or people to block the view, it was just us, the stars, and the sky. I could actually feel that I was lying on a planet. It was so wide. So infinite.

“Can I hold your hand?” I asked softly, in a manner so vulnerable it scared me.

Without any words or hesitation, he put my hand in his.

“The universe seems so big right now. I just needed something to hold onto.” I explained quietly, practically with the hopes that he wouldn’t hear me. But he heard.

“I’m here.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two people, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. We weren’t divided by power, or age, or space. We were ourselves and no one else.

My eyes fluttered shut again and a smile stretched across my face. “Stargazing was a good idea.”

The world and the sky and the stars and I - we were all infinite. I couldn’t have felt bigger in my own body. In the best way possible, I was taking up so much space. I was occupying the earth. I was made up of matter. I mattered.

Just as I began to open my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a fading shooting star. Though I had wished to be older, I still felt like a child. Then it hit me. I didn’t feel older because I wasn’t older.

I was infinite.

Yes, I was a child, but not in the pinch your cheeks, bottles and pacifiers, babyish way. I was a child in the ‘you have a life full of possibilities ahead of you’ way.

You are young. He tells me with his eyes. And that is a good thing. Be forever young.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #juniorgman187 #be forever young

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pbandjesse · 3 years ago

Text

We just got a phone call from our insurance that they may have actually approved medication. So that's exciting. Could have come yesterday when it would have been helpful because now I have to have a virtual visit tomorrow. But at least there's progress. And I'll have my visit tomorrow and we'll figure everything out and go over the accident blood work I'm assuming too.

Today was very stressful and honestly I want to put it out of my mind. I didn't sleep great last night but that's okay. It wasn't horrible sleep it just wasn't great. I woke up and didn't feel 100% but I was looking forward to doing needles with the kids and teaching them to sell. James drove me to work and I liked my outfit a lot. I was feeling pretty good.

I got a little frustrated when we got to the McDonald's because James wasn't pulling up and they were like I'm trying not to block the driveway and I'm like you are letting more than a car length in front of you someone's going to pull in front of you and then they didn't speak up and order the thing that we normally order so it was $3 more expensive for no reason. And so I was just a little upset. But it's fine. James would drop me off and go home to wrap presents and I went to go set things up.

I found that they had mostly already gotten the garment left setup and so I went and thread a couple more needles and it's all good. I was a little annoyed that some of them were tangled but it didn't actually matter. I went back to the break room and chatted with everyone. And had my breakfast and things were good.

Then the other school was very early, and my school ended up being late. And that was only a problem because we had a ton of overlapping tours today thought we had to figure out. It didn't affect me but I was aware of it.

I hope to get some kids off the bus and then waited for my group to come. And when they did they were much taller than I was expecting for 8th graders. And the kids on the individual basis were great. The kids does a group or a nightmare. The teacher that was the lead seem to have no control over anybody at all. And at first everything seemed fine. We had some trouble getting them grouped but it was okay. And I went with Jack back to the garment loft to get started.

And while they were a little chatty they were really nice. A lot of yes ma'am Thank you ma'am. And Jack's intro was great and I had a really nice time helping themselves. And it was a lot less of them than we expected so we were able to actually have them do both jobs and everyone seemed to really enjoy that. We made lots of pockets and we did lots of sewing and it was great.

We had lunch next and I chilled for a little while in the back. Talked to Cindy about selling. Got to show off my tote bag that I'm very proud of. Also told Jack about the national guard and how my workshop I guess small business is going really well and he was just very proud of me and that felt really good. I really admire him so it was nice that he was proud and excited for me.

The second program was our biggest issue. That class not only had no self-control, their teacher was so checked out. It was so bad that there ended up being two teachers and I didn't even know one of them was a teacher. Because the other one just left. when we went to get them from lunch we start taking the group out and the teacher asks us to pause. And she starts asking if anybody wants to order pizza when they get back to the school. And to raise their hand. And if they need to cash app her to come up there. And we're just like what. We should already be in the program What is happening. And so we thought she was done after asking and counting them off but no she wanted to actually get them to give her money in this moment. They had a 40-minute lunch break where they could have done this. Because they did not eat lunch. They had a couple snacks but that was it. Also they gave all of them sunflower seeds. In a museum. Insanity.

So we were standing there for like 5 minutes. She was acting very rude to John. Who was just trying to get the program started with some semblance of being on time. I text Jessica because I don't know what to do and no one's listening. And finally we get them back to the classroom and then everyone is talking and that teacher just leaves. No one is listening. I had to stop what I was doing and walk to the back of the room to these three boys who were just being so disrespectful and ask them to please stop talking and they tell me I'm doing too much. Okay. So rude for no reason. I was just horrified on John's behalf because they were being so rude to him.

And then when we finally got to the actual program only like half of them actually participated. And then by the end of course then they wanted to make the project and we had to tell them no because they had to sit down. Most of them still got to do it and like I said on an individual basis they were very sweet. But that teacher was just so out of pocket. Just no control over those kids and also just seemed completely checked out and did not care. It was an embarrassment.

I was so glad to be done with them. So glad though that I did not notice that no one went with them when we took them to the front of the museum at the end of the day to leave. Oops. I stayed behind to clean up and John went to go get a broom so I thought he had gone with them it was a whole thing. Doesn't matter in the long run. Jessica understood that we just wanted to get them out of there.

Me and John just kind of decompressed in the garment loft for a while. I worked on cleaning up and fixing some felt and putting things away in a logical order. James was in the museum working on a couple things and so they came and joined us and we all just talked and bitched and it was great. Made me feel a lot better.

I mostly just cut the felt shapes out and tried to clean them up and then around 1:30 it was time to go. We chatted with Jessica at the front for a few minutes about insurance stuff and my quilting in the garment loft and then me and James left. We have things to do.

We drove out to Glen Burnie to go to value village. We donated a bag of clothes and got a coupon. And then we did some shopping. It was a little frustrating because we couldn't get a cart because there was too busy. And that was a little frustrating but we found some really great stuff. some Christmas presents some stuff for the house that will make things a little neater. Felt really good. I also got a really expensive quilting block for like $3. And that was really exciting. My most exciting purchase though was another code. I don't need a coat. But this one has roses for buttons and it's so good. So I'm excited about that. And it was only $6.

Next we went to Target. And we got a few more presents there. And we just got a couple things that we needed. Eggs and flour and sugar. And I was getting a little too overheated and upset because I was too hot. So I was very glad to get out of there.

When we did leave we decided that we would go over to five guys for dinner. Or I guess a late lunch. And it was really nice just sitting and eating quietly. I was really excited to go home though I was getting very very tired.

When we did finally get home we brought everything inside and put stuff away and took tags off of things. We pulled out some more wrapping stuff from the holiday closet. And I'll work on those things tomorrow. And it was just really nice. We both rested for a bit and then we got to work on some cookies. James wanted to make the jam cookies a little fancier and that was fun. We use a couple jars of our jam and that was really good. We both ate a few of them already in the sugar cookie part is excellent. Probably one of the better recipes we found. And the jams are really good and interesting and I'm really enjoying it. I'm liking trying all of the flavors I've never tried before.

And we just spent the last hour or so working on our video game. We don't have all of the endings but we've pretty much figured out how to get everything. It is sad seeing the one girl die every single time. I'm just like I want to save my girlfriend every single time. But there is no way to really save her.

I did just find out that the people who made this game just announced that they're coming up with a new thing. Which I think is very funny because we just started playing. It's like we spoke it into existence.

Now we are both ready to get showers and get some sleep. I have my virtual doctor's appointment tomorrow and James has work. We were going to go to the pootop party but we're both assuming that James is going to be a little bit to beat up. Which is okay. I only really wanted to go if James wanted to go. So I hope it's just a nice day.

I'm also going to spend some of it making sure that our home is prepared for this apparent really bad storm coming in. Want to make sure that everything is cleaned and settled and ready just in case. We're going to try to leave early Friday morning so that we don't get stuck in anything. I might even insist on bringing sweetp with us. We will see.

I hope you all have a great night tonight. Take care of each other. Be safe. Goodnight!!

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mysticgoblinwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Driving In A Cold Sweat; There Is No One On This Highway

Warnings- Murder, infidelity, swearing, food imagery, shitty parents, i made Steve the villain who’s in the HOA and a politician, adult content, dark!reader, cheating, a bit of flirting, mental health joke (mental health is NOT a joke, y’all), religion symbolism, dark!steve, peggy x bucky,

Word Count- 1.9k

kudos to @blackberrybucky for being my soundboard, and @fandomsandxfiles for being my beta reader. Love y'all

a/n- This is inspired by Hypothermic by Goodnight Texas. Its really dark, and I surprised myself writing this but I like it. I also changed the landscape to desert. Leave comments if you want! As many as you like, I fangirl over my work too. All writers should, its selfcare.

IF YOU WANT SOMETHING FLUFFY AND SOFT TURN AWAY NOW; MINORS DNI

DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE. A REBLOG IS APPRECIATED. A REPOST IS NOT.

Bucky looks you up and down, taking you in like you are the gods own ambrosia. “So, doll. What brings you to this shit hole?”

You laugh to yourself. “I murdered somebody.”- was the sentence that also inspired this but its not in the actual story.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The radio gave out miles ago. It was emitting nothing except for crackling and static. Every now and then it would cut back to a sermon, funnily enough it’d been the same one that was on when you started your trip. Sunset was a little ways off. If you looked hard enough you could see coyotes just off the asphalt. Alive, yes. But just how long had their souls been gone? Someone was screaming.

A man. You’d heard that scream before. Seared into you memory like that steak you had for your 15th birthday. It was right next to you. Oozing blood and raw-red. You could hear the clink of the knife as it scraped against the plate. Shaking your head to clear it, you notice an exit with a gas station. “Now’s a time as good as any to stop.” Gravel crunches as you slide up next to the pump. The neon beer lights from the bar across the road are calling. But you can’t answer. The gas handle is slick and grimy, you’ve felt something like that before, but you can’t remember what. A fuzzy noise in the back of your ears gets your attention. Another truck has pulled in. Right in the spot next to yours, never mind the dozen others that are free. A bulky man steps down, his face hidden by a rangers hat.

You could tell he worked out though. And had hair in need of a washing. Clunk. The tank was full. You thought it best to leave before anyone could place you, but your stomach needed something other than greasy two-bit fast food. You glance around, looking for any sign that promised a hot meal.

“Looking for something, doll?” You let out a small gasp. He was staring straight at you now.

“Does this shithole have a place to eat? I might have to start eating the cactus.”

He lets out a soft laugh, “Yeah, there’s a diner about half mile down the road.”

His face brightens like he just thought of something. “You wanna meet me there? I’ll buy dinner?” You weigh the options. You can’t have anybody recognize you; but your cash is getting low and however you can stretch it, you must. You nod once. “Sure.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The diner is every trope you’d seen in the movies your pops watched when he got off work. Flies buzzing, neon sign flickering, checkered tile. It even had the shiny red leather booths. What a dream. “Getcha a seat anywhere, honey. I’ll be right over,” came a perky voice from the back. Presumably a waitress. You choose the booth near the back exit. Its always good to have a backup plan.

The man said he needed to get something at the mini-mart, that you could go ahead and he’d catch up. Somebody screamed right next to you, causing you to jump out of your seat. You whip your head around. No one was even in the dining area. It sounded so real. Like you could reach out and grasp the shattering inky blackness. You take a couple of deep breaths. Try to remember your happy place. Tahiti, its a magical place. Or so you’ve been told You just picked it from a magazine that was open on the coffee table the night your mother set fire to the curtains in the living room. The flames had licked up the page, burning the island resort into ash. Boots thudded as they made way to where you were. He slides in across from you.

“Um, the waitress’ll be right out,” you said softly. He barely heard it over the rickety air conditioning. He nods to show he heard. He’s sitting close. Closer than you’d thought another human would ever sit next to you again. His hands are rough and calloused. The sleeve cuffs of his hoodie are frayed; as if someone clawed at them. Eyes traveling up his body, you take in more details. The hoodie isn’t faded, its brand new. He wears a bracelet of leather on his right hand, with a charm you can’t quite see. His necklace is corded hemp, plain and understated.

A light stubble that’s maybe three days old covers his jaw. His eyes... are piercing right through you. You take in a quick breath, not being able to look away. You’d never seen that shade of blue before. He’d been watching you watching him. Quirking an eyebrow, ”See anything ya like, doll?” You start to sputter an answer but the waitress comes over. “Sorry about the wait. Here’s your-” Blue eyes interrupts her, “We don’t need those. I’ll have the special and she’ll have the ‘Its Impossible To Go Away Hungry’ plate” “Okay, then. I’ll get that right out to ya folks.”

You glare at him, he mirrors it with dicky nonchalance. “Why did you order for me?” He leans forward, tilts his head the right the tiniest fraction. “You’re starved. I really don’t give a damn what kept you from eating but I ain’t gonna let you go without giving you a meal. The steak plate is the biggest meal they have. You can take a to go box, that is if you don’t eat the whole thing.”

“Oh.” You cast out a huff, “Well, thank you.” He flashes a killer smile. Pearly white teeth in a straight line. Not an imperfection to be found anywhere. A silence falls between the two of you. You can’t decide whether its comfortable of not.

“My name is Bucky. I thought you wouldn’t like eating with a stranger. I like to doodle in the margins of my books sometimes.” “Please tell me not library books.” He scoffs as if you suggested the impossible, “Never. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Jury’s out on that, Bucky.” He looks at you more intently now. “Really? Same could be said about you. When I first spoke to you it was like a deer in headlights. Ya running from something, sugar?” He’d said it jokingly but you didn’t laugh.

“No. Nothing like that.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Shirley came back with your plates, and two root beers. She left the check at the end of the table and Bucky swooped it up. The meal passed by in the comfortable sounds of silverware clinking and ice clacking in the cups. You both ate in record time.

You were careful to save enough for a second meal. That went into the to go container. Now both cups were drained and plates scraped clean. You start to slide out of your seat, mumbling a thanks but Bucky stops you. “Wait, won’t you sit here a while longer? I’d be kinda sad sitting here alone.” After a moments hesitation, you resume your position. “What do you wanna talk about? It can’t be the weather. Its been dry as bones for weeks.” He ponders for a moment, “You.” He shifts a little, resting one ankle on the opposite knee.

“I want to know what you’re running from, and see if I can offer...a distraction.” That shocks you. “Life? Aren’t we all running away in some form or another? I just happened to take the mobile route.” You shrug, “What do you want me to say? It was all shitty so I left it behind. And as for the distraction part, I got a whore last night, so don’t bother.” He is silent. Just sits there and gazes at you. You cock your head, getting impatient. “Am I allowed to leave now? Or do you want to talk about our feelings?”

“I slept with my best friends wife.”

“I-I’m sorry you what??”

“I slept with my best friends wife. He owns half the town, what with him being mayor and all. I couldn’t take it anymore, he’s always been the golden boy. Always been the beacon of light. I just wanted a slice of what he had.” He looks up, his eyes are dead. “She was willing, and I just... took her. There on his desk. He’d been out for lunch with some bigwig, and I made her cum twice on my cock.” He chuckles darkly. “That’d been the first time. All the other times don’t matter, he doesn’t know about those. But he does know about the time in the craft shed. Peggy did pottery.

Had a nice little workshop, it was connected to the mansion they had. I wanted to bring her pleasure in the place where she gets frustrated often, so she’d have something else to think about. Steve caught us on the floor. A big bunch of daffodils in hand. Stupid, those weren’t even her favorites.” He was gone now, lost in memories, not even knowing he was talking. “Said he had come by to take her to lunch. That was always like Steve. Expected her to clear her schedule at the drop of a hat but never doing the same for anybody. He didn’t even get mad. He just walked away, muttering something about his office.

Peggy said she could talk some sense into him. The next day I found her in the garbage when I took out my trash.” Your sharp inhale and big eyes do nothing to catch his attention. “Steve comes strolling out of nowhere, said that she was a threat to his image. Said that I need to leave or face the same. I asked why he left me alive and he said ‘So you can remember the pain until you lay down in the ground and the mice and carrion drag your body up from its silk cocoon to feast.”

But that’s not all.” He said the last bit so quietly, it was as if he said nothing.

“What?” He’s crying now, tears are forming rivers in his eyes. “She knew. She knew he was going to be there and that’s how she wanted to go out.” Your puzzled expression makes him laugh. “Don’t know many politicians, do you? Good. Keep it that way. That day when the mail came I got a letter. From her. It said how she wanted to divorce Steve ever since he became the HOA president. But she couldn’t. He had threatened her once, just once and what he said was so blisteringly awful. And he did it. He is a man of his word, after all. He kept his damn word.”

“So...she used you as an out?” He winces. You hadn’t meant to sound like that.

“Yes.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Out in the diners parking lot you say goodbye to James. Wait. No, no. His name is Bucky. He’s got a green Chevy and blue eyes. Or was it red? It doesn’t matter anyway. You back out and head for the next state, ignoring the blood leaking from the tarp in your trunk. The screams have stopped. And the moon is bright.

#dark!reader x bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mcu #marvel fic #bucky barnes x dark!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #dark!steve rogers #moongoblin marvel writes all by herself #bucky barnes x female reader

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jelly-pies · 4 years ago

Text

Dancing From Now On

Read on AO3

Pepper remembered their first dance. Contrary to public knowledge, it had not been at the annual Stark Industries gala.

Tony and Pepper's first dance took place months before that, alone at the mansion, late after a long day of work. The music had been Pepper's idea, to relax. But the dance had been Tony's.

"Getting better, Potts." Somehow cheerier than usual, he spun her slowly around the workshop. "Nobody will ever know you had two left feet. Hardly believe it myself, if my toe wasn't still throbbing."

Pepper huffed. "Not all of us could afford dance classes, you know."

"Well, it's not that hard, see? We're just swaying." Tony pulled her in, an inch closer, meeting her eyes. And for one moment, Pepper was purely dancing with the friend she was secretly in love with—not the boss who depended on her, or the playboy whose one night stands she escorted out of the mansion every few weeks. Just Tony. "Just dancing."

Their casual flirting was one thing. But this was getting dangerously close to something else—so Pepper ended the moment. JARVIS stopped the music, and when Pepper looked back after collecting her things, Tony suddenly looked away as if he'd been caught staring.

Maybe he had.

"So, you're good?" Tony asked casually, hands fiddling with some tools he picked up. "No stumbling over anybody's feet at the next gala?"

"We're good." Pepper matched his light tone. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

"And Tony... " She paused at the door. Did she imagine that expectant look he sent her way, or was it just the lighting? "Um… that contract you still have to look over. Don't show up tomorrow without it."

"Which one?"

"Tony."

He chuckled. "I got it. Have a good night."

Maybe it was just the lighting.

"Good night," Pepper answered, and exited the room with deliberate steps.

She turned back before the landing. Tony was facing away, bringing up holo-screens, flexing his hands—and suddenly she remembered the feel of those calloused fingers against her own, drawing her closer.

Tony looked up. Pepper turned away, determined not to be caught staring.

But maybe she had.

Pepper remembered their first dance. And she remembered how it led to much, much more.

Their second dance, that one was at the Stark Industries Firefighter's Family Fund benefit. A backless blue gown, a little banter, an almost-kiss on the roof. Another moment Pepper ended before anything could begin, even though she half-wished something would begin—had been wishing it those dreadful three months of Tony's disappearance.

As Tony left to get them drinks, Pepper turned away to hide a growing blush. She didn't see the way he looked back at her from the door.

Tony reentered the building, and didn't see the way Pepper looked after his retreating back, either.

Years later on another rooftop, after a disastrous Stark Expo, the kiss became real.

They even had a witness, who deadpanned, "You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape."

Tony put his arm around her as they faced Rhodey, and Pepper couldn’t help thinking how that gesture must make them look like a real couple. She found she didn’t mind. All of a sudden, plans of her resignation as CEO didn't seem so urgent.

Tony turned back to her as soon as Rhodey left and challenged, "How are you gonna resign if I don’t accept?"

Pepper laughed, letting the action release her anxiety and near-death stress and girlish romance. "I…" And Tony was leaning close. She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Tony, if I don't… we can’t…"

"Come on, it’s us. We’ll figure something out." And there was that look again. Pepper wasn’t so quick to blame the lighting this time. "Ms. Potts?" Tony took both her hands. "Pep?"

It was too late to stop this moment, and Pepper knew it. But the doubt must have still shown on her face because Tony took one look and continued, "Remember when we danced? The first time, Malibu? You crushed my toes about a hundred—"

"Please let that go."

"—but we made it work."

Pepper took a breath. "We did."

Tony smiled, eyes shining—that's how Pepper could always tell if his smiles were real. She could also tell that both of them were done holding back… whatever this was.

"We are pretty good at dancing," Pepper replied.

Tony couldn't see her face as they embraced, but if he did, Pepper was sure he could tell her smile was real, too.

A private night at Stark Tower after the New York attack, that was the third dance. Or fourth, or fifth, maybe. Pepper wasn't sure she needed to count anymore.

She was only sure of two things. Swaying together in their home, with JARVIS playing soft music overhead, her arms around the love she had almost lost—and had accepted she would come close to losing, over and over again, for the sake of saving the world—Pepper was only sure of these: that she wanted herself and Tony to have a thousand more dances to come.

And that she could never know which one would be their last.

They danced that night on yet another rooftop, after the events with the Mandarin.

They didn't dance after Ultron.

Or for several months after that.

But the next time Pepper and Tony finally held each other in their arms, they held on tighter, and neither let go for a long, long time.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined it, for several reasons.

Tony’s smile was different. There was a sadness in them that lingered like ashes, but he smiled anyway, holding her close—which was a feat with Pepper's growing belly, but they made it work.

There were fewer guests. Several seats they left vacant on purpose, scattered around the lakeside like lonely souls. Some people held the belief they were there, in spirit, and that's what mattered. Pepper wasn't so sure; pure sentimentality had prevailed on her to leave the seats out.

Apparently sentimentality ran high this evening. The band played the song she and Tony had first danced to, oh so long ago, in a mansion long since blown to bits, by an AI, a friend, long since gone.

There was no publicity in what had once been anticipated as the event of the decade. A single ray of sun through gray clouds instead of all-around sunshine, in what was supposed to be the happiest day of Pepper and Tony's life.

But the people they loved—those that were left—celebrated with them, and that was enough. A simple reception at their new house, and the wedding was over.

After the lake grew quiet and the stars came out, the newlyweds slow-danced through the night, just the two of them.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined their new life would start. But start it did, with a dance.

"Getting better, Potts," Tony whispered beside her temple, their heads pressed together.

"Not so hard without the floor length gown. I know that was my idea, but God, don’t let me do anything like that ever again."

Tony chuckled and spun her slowly until she faced away, then wrapped his arms around his wife, their four hands interlocking on top of her belly.

Pepper had long lost count of their dances. But she knew this was one she would always remember.

It was Tony who broke the silence. "You guys still here? Scoot."

Pepper turned where he was looking: Rhodey’s wedding presents on the mantelpiece, staring at them—two plushie seals. And she laughed. Tony could always make her laugh.

“Fighting over a grape?” Pepper recalled.

“I never really got that image, to be honest.”

“Hm.” She turned back to Tony, cupped his cheek, and leaned in. “Let’s see about that.”

"That’s it! You’re doing it!" Tony spun their daughter around until the song ended, and Morgan collapsed in giggles on the floor. Tony scooped her up and tickled her with his stubble, making the giggling grow louder.

"Dad!" Morgan laughed. "Mommy, save me!"

Pepper swiftly rescued the toddler, only to drop her on the couch and blow raspberries on her stomach a second later. "In this house—" another tickle, and Morgan squealed— "nobody—escapes—dancing!"

Morgan finally succeeded in pushing her away as FRIDAY started the next upbeat song, and soon all three were back on their feet.

“Not that it's a competition.” Tony walked in. “But she loves me three thousand.”

“Oh, does she?”

“You were somewhere on the low… six to nine hundred range.”

Tony could always make her laugh.

Even the night after the Avengers came to visit. The night their new life, that Pepper knew in her heart could never last long, started to melt away.

Tonight there was no music, no dancing. Only the crackle of the fireplace, the weight of the future, and Pepper’s words hanging in the air— "But will you be able to rest?"

Tony didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to.

But Pepper held his hand, and Tony kissed her cheek. And when they finally went to bed, they held each other tighter.

Tony held her hand, and Pepper kissed his cheek. "You can rest now."

Tonight there was no dancing.

Two cylindrical compartments stood along the garage wall, one of them forever to be empty. In the other, Pepper put her Rescue suit away by herself. Crossing the room, her fingers couldn't help lingering over Tony's reserve helmet—Tony's desk—Tony's tools—Tony's presence. She could always feel it in his workshops.

Their first dance had been in his workshop.

The memory jolted her, pulling Pepper's eyes back to the last gift Tony left: her Rescue suit slumped in its compartment, looking as battered as she felt. Pepper remembered what it was like to take the suit to battle. To fight side by side with her husband, gauntlets firing in sync, guarding each other's back. A team to the end.

Did that count as a dance? Because otherwise, Pepper realized, she didn't remember the last time she and Tony danced.

She remembered their first, though—would always remember it. JARVIS’s song, their wedding song, strained in her ears—she could almost feel Tony's calloused fingers around hers—dancing in his workshop late at night.

But in this workshop, on this night, Pepper could only cry.

Pepper still danced.

She danced with Rhodey, and they leaned on each other, the way they had learned to do long ago.

She danced with Happy, bouncy little head bangs as they cooked Christmas dinner together, and for a moment the house was full of music again.

She danced with Peter, years later at his wedding, whispering "We’re so proud of you" in his ear.

She danced with her daughter. Morgan always pulled her to her feet whenever a lively song came on the radio— "In this house, nobody escapes dancing!" And they laughed. And they danced.

Pepper still danced. Just not with the one person she most wanted to dance with again.

When years had passed, and Morgan was grown, and the house was quiet most hours of the day, Pepper developed the habit of sneaking out on the balcony on clear nights, and looking up at the stars.

Some of her favorite dances with Tony had taken place under the stars. Like the rooftop. And their wedding.

Pepper didn’t remember which dance had been their last. But she remembered the first. And the second. And the thousands that came after that. Maybe that was enough.

In the quiet of the lake house, with only the strains of their wedding song echoing in her ears, and the stars above her, forever her witness—Pepper danced.

- "Ang Huling El Bimbo (The Last [Dance])," The Eraserheads

Lahat ng pangarap ko'y bigla lang natunaw

Sa panaginip nalang pala kita maisasayaw

(All of my dreams are suddenly gone

Only in dreams can we dance from now on)

#THIS IS ENDGAME COMPLIANT BTW #pepperony #pepper potts #tony stark #mcu #fanfic #angst #character death tw #did I have 3+ other wips I started first and wanted to finish first? yes #did I dump my endgame feels on this angsty one-shot instead? also yes #jelly's

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cattyanon · 3 years ago

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So eventually Sonic wakes up standing at (some place) which is deserted. Knowing what this means he feels like throwing up. He’s being used as a puppet to kill people with the excuse of survival.

He sprints into a forest as he thinks about what he’s going to do next. He’s clearly too dangerous to be near people right now. Sonic settles on isolation for the time being. He doesn’t want to risk hurting anybody with something he doesn’t know how to control.

For a moment he considers staying with Tails before he remembers that’s impossible. He had momentarily forgotten about what he was forced to do, too focused on not hurting anybody else.

And without the parasite there to distract him, what happened hits him all at once.

Tails.

T a i l s .

His brother. Gone.

And he couldn’t even do a thing. He just stood there and watched it happened. There was a feeling of pure terror he felt just thinking about it. He couldn’t save him. He couldn��t do anything.

And the terror he felt only grew when he felt his tails droop and hit the ground. Another horrible reminder of what happened. He hates it. He hates it so, so much. At this point he’s crying.

He wishes he didn’t have those two tails. Thinking about them being there felt so wrong and yet for reason they were so easy to move and he absolutely hates it. Why does it feel so natural? It shouldn’t feel so natural, none of this is natural!

He needs help. He doesn’t want to but he knows he needs it at this point. But who? Who does he go to for something so horrible?

Thinking about it he eventually decides that Amy might be his best bet for this. I mean, she did accept him even in his werehog form. He’d have to be careful though. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody else.

Shit, now I gotta figure out where tf Amy lives... aaaand the only mention of where she lives is in Sonic Boom which is not the canon this takes place in. I guess I’ll just base it off her house in that then? Let’s just go with that.

So Sonic arrives at the house near the beach Amy lives in and stands in front of her door for awhile. She’s going to immediately question him on what happened when she saw his eyes.

Was he even ready for this? Chaos, was it even a good idea to get Amy involved?

Sonic is starting to think that maybe he should just leave when the door suddenly opens. It’s Amy. And as expected, once she realizes who it is, bombards him with questions.

He gets her to calm down with the questions and they both walk inside. Amy comments that she was about to go shopping but whatever reason Sonic has to be here must be important.

He sits on the couch and Amy notices something very strange she didn’t notice before. She’s extremely tempted to ask but... it probably has something to do with why Sonic is here. She’ll just ask him if he doesn’t bring it up.

And since she knows this is Sonic, the one who doesn’t like sharing his feelings, she knows she needs to go slow.

Amy is patient and with time Sonic eventually recounts everything that’s happened that he remembers. She tries to hide it but she’s absolutely horrified. And it definitely happened too. There’s no way Sonic would joke about something like that regarding Tails.

So Amy is barely keeping it together as Sonic laments that he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to hurt anybody but eventually this thing is going to come back and make him hurt more people.

“It’ll insist I’ve run out of reserves eventually. I don’t want to hurt anyone but I don’t know how to make it stop either!”

Amy asks him to give her a moment to think up something.

She eventually gets an idea. “Well maybe if you eat more than usual that’ll keep you filled up? You should probably also try and get a handle on these giant shadow hands you’ve told me about too.”

Sonic then thanks Amy for her advice and says he’ll think about it and asks if she doesn’t mind him sticking around for awhile. He can’t bring himself to go back to the workshop. Just thinking about it makes him feel queasy.

Amy agrees and says that while Sonic thinks about it that she’s going to do her shopping. (And now she’s also going out to wrap her head around what she was just told because wtf)

So Amy heads off to go shopping while Sonic walks along the beach contemplating about what Amy said.

And what she said definitely made an amount of sense. If he ate more than he already does it would probably fill up whatever reserves the thing (he doesn’t know it’s a parasite) was talking about.

Then there’s the whole learning how to control those weird giant shadow hands. It was probably possible. He did do it that one time in Station Square even if it was an accident.

Eventually Sonic comes to a stop. He really didn’t want to do this, it would just serve as a reminder of what happened, but he couldn’t risk hurting somebody again.

He couldn’t risk doing that to Amy as well.

With a new found resolution, Sonic decides to give controlling the hands a try. He can’t end up hurting somebody close to him again. (What he doesn’t know is that it wasn’t him who actually used the hands to snatch up Tails. That’s right, I’m making him feel guilty for something he didn’t actually have control over at the time. Mwahahaha!!)

Anyways Sonic ends up looking like an absolute maniac from an outsider’s perspective while trying to summon a hand.

I think I’ll leave it here so I can try to really get into the details of Sonic summoning a hand for the ‘first’ time. I wanna try writing how it’ll feel. Try and hone some writing skills in the process, you know?

Anyways there will be angst coming up. If you’re interested in what the next super angsty thing is gonna be just look in the tags.

#Sonic #sonic au #sonic.exe au #Consumption.EXE #If you guessed #”Sonic is gonna end up consuming Amy next”#you win a prize.#(the prize is a gold star lol)

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

Text

Guard My Heart - Ch 1 Daylight’s Wasting

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Read on AO3

Written for @livrever as part of the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Secret Admirer Lukanette Exchange!

Happy LBSC Exchaaaaaaaaange and I'm the one who gets to write for @livrever, who's been doing so much heavy lifting making sure everything runs smoothly this year! Because I am a sucker I decided to combine her prompts (I should have known better, since the last time I combined prompts from Mal I ended up with Killer Combo) soooooo today you get a first chapter instead of a completed story. I'll reveal the second prompt when it is time, but the first one was neighboring shop owners. I opted for slightly different than the traditional take for Reasons.

I love you to pieces Mal and I really hope you enjoy the journey!

Marinette is moving out on her own and starting her own shop, where she can be the boss and responsible for no one but herself. The years have taught her that for Ladybug to do her job, Marinette has to maintain a certain amount of distance in her personal life...but how's she supposed to do that when a blast from the past is moving in next door? Especially when she's got a box full of nosy kwamis cheering her on...This was not the new beginning she had in mind!

Rating: M, Implied sexual content in later chapters

“This is the big day,” Tikki crowed from Marinette's shoulder, and Marinette tried to smile as she carefully maneuvered her rented van around all the other vehicles crowding the back alley. “Come on, Marinette,” Tikki said gently, nuzzling up against her cheek. “It’s okay to be excited.”

“I am excited,” Marinette told her, putting the vehicle in park. “This is a big deal, Tikki. It’s just that there’s a lot of work to do and I need to be focused on that right now.”

“I wish you didn’t have to do all of this alone,” Tikki fretted. “It’s a lot to do by yourself. Are you sure you don’t want to call anyone?”

“I’ll manage,” Marinette smiled, flexing her arm for Tikki’s benefit. “Besides,” she sighed, opening the door as Tikki zipped into the purse at her hip. “Who would I call?”

Tikki didn’t have a chance to answer as Marinette jumped down from the van. She glanced around the alley at her fellow business owners who were also moving in. Some of them looked almost finished; some, like her, were only just getting started.

Marinette tried not to feel a little irked at the people who were already almost done. How early had they gotten here? Maybe their renovations had been finished earlier and they’d gotten a head start. Marinette pouted for a moment, and then tried to put it out of her mind. It wasn’t a competition, after all. She just needed to focus on her own work. She had a strict schedule written out and taped to the inside of the van that would have her moved into her new shop and the apartment above it, hopefully in time to make a quick run for groceries before it got too late.

Besides, the other shop owners probably had help or had hired people, whereas Marinette was depending on nothing but her own muscles. She couldn’t afford to hire anybody, she didn’t want to wait until her parents were free, and her friends...well. She had her life and they had their lives and other than a few friendly texts now and then, their paths didn’t really cross anymore except for major life events. Despite Tikki’s hints that opening her first boutique should have fallen into that category, it just didn’t seem worth the effort to push the issue. Marinette could do this alone. She was used to it.

A smile grew on her face as she pulled the shiny new keys from her pocket and unlocked the back door of the shop. Marinette couldn’t help a muffled squeal and a hop of excitement as it swung open wide. She kicked down the doorstop to hold it open, and went inside.

Marinette passed through the back room that would serve as storage and workshop, and into the small storefront. She stood there for a moment, suddenly feeling shaky and a bit short of breath. She swallowed. “This is a really big deal, Tikki,” she said, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. She ran her fingertips over the rough texture of the commercial carpeting she had picked out. “I can’t screw this up.”

“You won’t, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, peeping out cautiously. “It’s going to be okay. One step at a time, remember?”

“Right,” Marinette agreed, still breathless, and she pushed herself back up. “Time to get to work.”

She got to her feet, and went back through the shop and then upstairs to the apartment, propping all the doors open, mentally reviewing her plan and where everything would go. Marinette felt both excitement and relief at the thought of finally living on her own, with no one else to make excuses to. Starting tonight, no one would be monitoring her coming and going, or asking where she’d been, or complaining that she’d left her share of the chores undone. No one to report to, no one to worry, no one to disappoint. As nervous as she was about the risks of this new venture, that alone would be a weight off her shoulders.

Doors open and empty rooms ready, Marinette went back outside. She threw up the gate on the back of the van, pulled out the ramp, and took a deep breath as she surveyed the contents, nervousness suddenly threatening to overshadow her earlier confidence. “Okay,” she murmured to herself. “It looks like a lot, all stuffed together like this, but I can do it. Somehow.”

Marinette had packed the van carefully, and her boxes were meticulously labelled and color coded with stickers, so that she knew as soon as she picked a box up whether it was for the shop interior, the back room, or the apartment upstairs. Her world narrowed to the task before her, and she didn’t even notice the looks she got as she hauled box after box and pieces of disassembled furniture into her new space. Her muscles burned, but it was a familiar sensation, a normal sensation. Marinette had learned to take comfort from anything normal, especially on a day like today, when so much was changing. The burn was a reminder to pause and stretch and take a moment to breathe, and that helped keep her focused.

When it started to verge on too much, Marinette sat down on the ledge of her propped-open shop door to rest and drink a bottle of water, mentally assessing her progress and comparing it against her schedule. She was doing pretty well, she thought, although the hard stuff was still to come.

“Marinette?”

She jumped, nearly spilling her water all over herself, and looked up to the man who had spoken to her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “L-Luka?” she gasped, scrambling to her feet. “Is that you?”

He grinned, and there was no mistaking it. His hair was a little bit longer, still streaked with blue but tied back at the nape of his neck, and his bangs were clipped back away from his sweaty face. His dimples were more prominent in his leaner face, his jaw more defined, but his smile and his eyes were the same. “Hey,” he said, as calmly as if they’d last seen each other yesterday instead of almost ten years ago, as he adjusted the box he was holding. “Wow, what a surprise, meeting you here.” That was putting it mildly, and Marinette almost laughed at the typically Luka understatement. His eyes flicked to the propped open door and his eyebrows went a little higher. “Are you...moving in?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, running her hand through her sweaty bangs, and trying to find the ground again. She hadn’t expected to run into anybody she knew today, let alone Luka. She hadn’t even known for sure that he was back in Paris. Marientte felt a pang looking at him, something between guilt and grief, and she suddenly didn’t know what to say.

Luka shifted his box again, drawing her eyes to both the box and the bunched muscles in the arms holding it. Her eyes snapped back to his face. “Wait,” she said incredulously, “Are you—”

“Yep,” he grinned, and nodded at the next door down from hers. “I’m on the corner, so...looks like we’re gonna be neighbors.” He groaned and hiked the box up again. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta put this down, but—when we’re done, maybe we could grab coffee or something, catch up? If you want to?”

“Sure!” Marinette smiled brightly. “I’d love to.”

The slow grin that spread over his face made her insides wobble a little. Wow, she thought, he really grew up. That smile had been intense enough when they were younger; with the sharper features of his more mature face it was devastating. “Okay. I’ll come over when I’m done and give you a hand if you’re still working. See you later.”

“Bye.” Marinette waved weakly, as Luka went to his own door, propped open like hers was. “Oh my God, Tikki,” Marinette hissed, and heard a giggle near her hip. “This isn’t funny, Tikki, what am I going to do?”

“Just go with it, Marinette,” Tikki advised cheerfully. “I know you’ve been lonely, and Luka was always a good friend to you. Maybe this is fate bringing you back together!”

“Tikki,” Marinette sighed, and leaned back against the building behind her, tipping her head back to knock gently against it. She paused, and then opened her purse to look down at the kwami and give her a look. “Fate, or luck?”

“Does it matter?” Tikki asked, shrugging. Her big eyes softened and she reached out just enough to pat Marinette’s hand. “I know you feel bad about the way you two left things, but Luka was always good for you, and you could use a friend like him right now. It doesn’t have to be romantic, Marinette. Don’t overthink it. It’s not good for you to be so alone, so just give it a chance and see what happens!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed, and then checked the time. She needed to get moving if she wanted to stay on schedule, and people were going to think she was crazy if they saw her talking to her handbag.

She had to wait a moment, though, when she got back to the van, for her legs to steady. Luka Couffaine...she hadn’t seen him since he left to tour with Jagged Stone when they were kids. She bit her lip hard. Ugh, how could Luka even want to be her friend now after the way things had happened back then…she’d been so confused, and trying so hard to manage her life and her feelings, and she’d been failing so miserably. Luka had been so kind to her, and tried to help, and she hadn’t even kept in touch with him when he left. If anyone had genuine reason to call her a bad friend, it would definitely be Luka.

Marinette swallowed and took a deep breath and climbed up into the van. Focus, she told herself. Just focus on what you have to do.

She grabbed the closest box and hauled it out blindly. She risked a glance over as she walked by, and saw several young men and a woman, all with multicolored hair, carrying furniture from an even larger moving van into Luka’s place. Then she put her head down and went to her own door, determined.

Marinette did her best not to look towards Luka’s van again, telling herself it would only distract her, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted if she wanted to get this task done.

Everything went according to plan until she got to the wrought iron headboard of her new bed. She’d been able to lift it on her own before, but she realized now, as her arms trembled, that she should have placed this a little earlier in the unloading order. Well, she was going to have to make it work. She got it down the ramp of the van, and had to stand for a moment, bracing it as her muscles twitched and trembled, as she looked at the distance she had to cover to get to the door and thought of the stairs after that. She swore softly, and leaned her forehead against the frame as she tried to muster the strength.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. “We got it, just tell us where you want it,” Luka said, as Marinette looked up at him in surprise.

“Oh,” she said reflexively, “I can—”

“I know you can,” Luka grunted, grabbing one end of the headboard as one of his friends got the other. “But something like this is easier with two people.” He grinned. “Upstairs, I assume?”

“Y-yeah,” Marinette stammered weakly. “The bedroom. Um—” She ran back up in the van and grabbed the first pink-stickered box she came to. “This way,” she smiled at the boys, and went ahead of them, face burning.

“Dude, this is so much easier than all that heavy shit you brought,” Luka’s friend groaned, and Marinette giggled in spite of herself when Luka cheerfully told him to kiss his ass. The boys carried her headboard in and leaned it against the wall where Marinette directed.

“Thank you,” she told them sincerely, and Luka winked at her as he followed his friend out.

“Let us know if you need a hand with anything else,” he told her, and they were gone before Marinette had a chance to say anything else.

She ended up not having to ask him for help at all, because anytime she was struggling, either Luka or one or more of his friends would pop up to help her. Marinette was both touched by Luka’s concern and willingness to help, and angry at herself, for planning so poorly that she needed the help in the first place—no matter how much his friends joked that hauling her stuff was a nice break compared to hauling Luka’s.

Stupid, she scolded herself. Took on too much, as usual, and what would you have done if Luka hadn’t been around? Poor guy, he wasn’t expecting to have to haul extra stuff today, either. We’re back in touch for one day and he’s already having to bail me out. Just like old times. Nice to know I haven’t grown in the least in the last ten years. She kept working with grim determination, trying not to look like she needed more help, and getting angrier at herself every time one of them stopped to give her a hand.

Finally, she was done. She locked up the van and the apartment, and then went to stand once again in her shop front. There was still a lot to be done to it over the next two weeks before the big grand opening event, but now that the move-in was done, she could finally get started. Some of the fixtures she had negotiated with the leasing company, like the carpeted pedestal in one corner where she could do fittings and the full-length three-way mirrors. She’d created the countertop for her register herself, but the company had built the counter and installed her custom top on it for her. Marinette drifted over to it now and ran her fingertips over the resin surface with her monogram M and real pink flowers embedded in it. It turned out really well, she thought to herself, and smiled. That was one thing that went right, at least.

“Marinette?”

She jumped, but then remembered she hadn’t closed the back door yet. “I’m in here,” she called, and a moment Luka came through the door of the workroom, looking around. He grinned, seeing her stand behind the register. “Making yourself at home?” He moved around the front as if he were a customer, and Marinette giggled.

“Something like that,” she said with a shrug. “How goes the unloading?”

“I’m sweaty and filthy, but at least we’re done,” Luka grinned, leaning both elbows on Marinette’s handmade custom countertop. She resisted the urge to shove him off it. “How about you? Need anymore help with anything?”

Marinette shook her head quickly. “No, thank you. I’m done, and I feel disgusting.” She grinned weakly. “To be honest, there’s nothing I want less right now than coffee.”

“Agreed,” Luka chuckled. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, as long as it’s cold.” He winced slightly. “And cheap. This place kinda cleaned me out.”

“I hear you,” Marinette laughed, coming out from behind the counter. It felt too weird, having it between them. “I’m in the same boat. The only reason I could afford this at all is because my grandpa passed away and left all his things to me. Turned out there were a bunch of companies waiting for the old man to die so they could make a bid on his house. They’ve been trying to get the property for years but Grandpa wouldn't sell.” She folded her arms and leaned back on the counter next to him as Luka straightened to face her.

“I’m sorry about your Grandpa,” Luka said, putting his hand on her shoulder. The hand was bigger, but the gesture was the same, and Marinette felt a tender pang for the boy who had loved her. “I know your relationship with him was complicated.” Marinette nodded, but she didn’t really want to talk about it. Luka dropped his hand and gestured towards the door. “Listen, I still owe my friends Chinese and beer for helping me move—and before you say anything, I budgeted for that in my moving expenses.”

“You sound so responsible,” Marinette giggled, and he made a face at her before continuing.

“Why don’t you join us, if you feel up to it?” he suggested. “If not, that’s cool, I can bring you back something and we can catch up some other time when we’ve had a little more rest.”

Marinette hesitated a moment. She wasn’t sure she was up to meeting new people, and a shower would feel awfully good right now, but...they had helped her, and she felt like it would be rude to turn down their company. She bit her lip and glanced at Luka.

He smiled. “No pressure. If you just want to relax after all this, that’s okay. I can’t believe how much crap you moved out of that van all by yourself.” His brow creased for a moment, but he seemed to change his mind about saying anything else, and just waited.

So Luka. Marinette smiled suddenly. “Papa’s going to help me with the one or two really big things this weekend, and the rest I figured I could handle myself. I guess I overestimated myself a little bit. I really appreciated your help, though. I do want to relax, but…it has been ages since we could hang out. If you don’t think your friends will mind—a cold beer sounds awfully good right now…”

Luka snorted. “Since I’m buying, they’re not allowed to mind,” he said with a grin.

Feeling daring, Marinette linked her arm through Luka’s. “Tell you what. Since we’re both on the verge of broke right now, how about we each buy our own drinks, and I pay for my share of the food plus a little bit to cover you guys helping me out,” she suggested, “and the first one to hit the black owes the other dinner?”

“Deal,” Luka grinned, and warmth fluttered in Marinette’s stomach.

“So, um,” she said, looking away as they walked back out of the shop. “Music shop?”

Luka chuckled as they paused by the door so Marinette could lock up. “You’d think, but, ah...actually, it’s antiques and collectibles. And uh...curiosities.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not allowed to say junk, but you know Mom. Her taste is...weird.”

“Really?” Marinette looked back at him, shocked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Mom’s been on her world tour, sending home crap from all over, and finally there didn’t seem anything else to do.” He gave her a sideways grin that told her there was probably more to the story than that, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He offered her his arm again as she turned away from the door. “I talked to her about it and we went in on the shop together. She’s going to be my buyer and I’m going to run the business. A lot of what I’ve got is music related, though,” he admitted. “And I’ve maybe started a little collection of my own. I still love playing, but I like small audiences anyway, and well...if the shop does okay, then I’m hoping I’ll have a little more freedom to pick and choose my gigs without worrying about whether I’m going to eat that month.” He winced. “We’ll...see how that works out for me. Mom’s pretty gung ho, but...” He shrugged. “She never really was one for practicalities. I mean, I know I won’t starve if the place fails, she and...and Jagged would bail me out if I were really in trouble, but I really don’t want to have to fall back on that.” Marinette nodded sympathetically at the expression on his face. It seemed like he still had mixed feelings about Jagged, even after all this time, and Marinette could hardly blame him. “To be honest,” he went on, “this whole thing is kind of a gamble and I’m nervous about it, but it beats working for The Man, right?”

“Tell me about it,” Marinette sighed.

Luka put his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and she looked up at him. “Hey,” he said, in the same gentle way he used to when they were kids. “We got this. We’re gonna kick ass and be living in luxury.”

Marinette laughed. “I’d settle for being able to afford pizza.”

Luka groaned. “Please don’t mention pizza, I’m still traumatized.”

Marinette laughed again, and leaned into his arm, and he leaned back, chuckling along with her, and...it was like nothing had ever changed. Marinette felt her breath catch and a sudden lump in her throat, and Luka paused.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, looking down at her.

Marinette nodded quickly, blinking back the tears that wanted to come out. “Sorry, I—I’m just glad to see you again, that’s all.”

Luka smiled at her, and maybe it was just the heat but she thought he was blushing slightly. He took her hand off his arm and moved it down to his own hand, and threaded his fingers tightly through hers. “Likewise,” he said, squeezing, and Marinette smiled, squeezing back. She was selfishly glad to find he hadn’t changed too much, deep down. His hand dwarfed hers the same way it always had, but it gave her an odd little flutter now to look at her fingers between his. They stood for just a moment, and then Luka started walking again, tugging her along with him. He let go of her hand just before they reached the group of his friends standing around and put his hand on her back instead. “Hey, guys, this is Marinette. We’ve been friends for a long time and I haven’t seen her for ages, so she’s coming along with us.”

Marinette gave an awkward wave. “Thanks a bunch for the help,” she said, “I told Luka I’d help pick up the tab as thanks.“ They all grinned at her.

“Congrats, you’ve just won their undying loyalty,” Luka commented dryly. “Bunch of mercenaries.” He put just a little pressure against her back and gestured vaguely. “There’s a place a couple blocks over, we were just going to walk if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course,” Marinette agreed, and the small group shuffled off. Luka let his hand fall once she started moving, but he stayed beside her, which she secretly appreciated, since the others were strangers. They seemed perfectly comfortable with each other, though, joking and shoving and teasing. Marinette found herself smiling as she watched them. This was what she was fighting so hard to protect, after all, even if it was something she couldn’t really have anymore.

Luka touched her arm lightly, and when she looked up at him, he raised his eyebrows at her slightly in silent inquiry. She smiled at him to let him know she was good. He relaxed a little, and turned back to the conversation.

There was some friendly chaos as everyone ordered their food and Luka and Marinette negotiated the split, but finally they all had their dinners and enough chairs to seat everyone. Marinette hadn’t realized how hungry she was until her food was in front of her.

“Ugh, I’m so hungry,” Luka moaned beside her, and there was a chorus of agreement that made her chuckle. The chatter didn’t exactly stop, but it slowed down considerably as they all applied themselves to their food.

Marinette focused on her plate and just let the talk flow around her, thoughts drifting again to all of the things she needed to do between now and the grand opening.

She only realized she had lost the thread of the conversation entirely when Evan’s words caught her attention again.

“I dunno, man, this neighborhood’s had bad juju since Ladybug and Chat Noir took down Hawkmoth,” he was saying, shaking his head slightly. “The whole area was levelled. Even though Ladybug fixed it, people don’t seem to stay and businesses don’t stay open. My sister said that’s why they shut everything down and redid all the buildings. One last-ditch effort at trying to revive the place. Turn it into artisan shops, make it attractive to tourists and hipsters.”

Luka shrugged. “I feel a lot better about my chances now that I know Marinette’s next door,” he said, nudging her with his elbow and grinning at her when she swatted him. “She’s got a great head for business and marketing. It can’t be a lost cause if she’s here.”

Marinette snorted. “Maybe it’s just all I could afford,” she said, making a face at him.

“The price was right, that’s for sure,” Luka admitted. “Either way, it can only benefit me to have you attracting traffic next door. Although maybe I’m assuming too much, are you still doing fashion?”

“Yes,” Marinette confirmed. “I graduated from ESMOD last year. I’ve...well, I decided the regular industry jobs aren’t for me, and that I’d be better off working somewhere where I could be the boss.” Also I can’t stay employed when I have to run off to akuma attacks constantly.

“I’m just surprised you picked this spot, that’s all,” Evan chuckled. “I thought sailors were superstitious.”

“We’re also cheap,” Luka snorted. “This was the best option I had that didn’t involve going to the old man, and—”

“And that woulda been fireworks,” Dingo laughed. “I almost wish you’d suggested it so I could’ve watched the Captain freak out about it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it would have been fun for you. ” Luka threw a peanut at him. “Since I’d be the one in the blast radius, I don’t think so.”

“Well, just so you know, I’m gonna laugh my ass off if Harvester levels this neighborhood the week after your grand opening,” Evan cut back in.

“Unlikely,” Marinette said without thinking, and everyone turned to look at her. She blinked, and then shrugged. “Hawkmoth caused damage on purpose, to lure out Ladybug and Chat Noir because he wanted their Miraculous. Harvester doesn’t seem to care about the Miraculous; she’ll take them if she can get them, but she’s just...I don’t know, greedy. She causes plenty of damage on a small scale, but she doesn’t usually destroy whole neighborhoods. There’s nothing where we are that’s worth her targeting, though. Besides, her targets tend to be in the wealthier areas of town.” She made a slightly sour face. It was bad enough that they hadn’t managed to recover the butterfly with Hawkmoth’s defeat. It was worse that it fell into the hands of someone as selfish and greedy as Harvester. She was barely more than a petty thief, and it was a burn to Ladybug’s pride that they hadn’t been able to catch her yet.

Trouble was, because Harvester lacked the kind of focus that Hawkmoth had had, she was less predictable, and more ruthless. There had been a certain rhythm to Hawkmoth’s attacks that Ladybug and Chat Noir had learned to work with over time to minimize damage. Harvester was much more random. She didn’t care what kind of damage she caused, she didn’t care if people got hurt—she just didn’t care, period. She wanted attention, and she wanted expensive things, and she didn’t care who suffered if she didn’t get her way.

Scratch that. She did care about one person’s suffering—Ladybug’s. She didn’t seem to care about their Miraculous, but she wanted Ladybug. Alive if possible, but she’d shown more than once that she wasn’t opposed to Ladybug very painfully dead, either.

Marinette shuddered.

Luka’s hand fell on her shoulder and she looked up at him, startled.

“You okay?” he asked softly, leaning in a little.

“Yeah, of course,” she lied automatically, with a bright, extremely fake smile. “Just tired.”

She’d forgotten how good Luka was at seeing lies. She could see in his face that he didn’t believe her, but he gave her a small smile that said it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, and turned back to the table.

Marinette took a breath and tried to tune back into the conversation as Dingo, Evan, and Marcie continued their good-natured ribbing over Luka’s new enterprise.

“So how do you two know each other again?” Marcie asked, and Marinette froze, her mouth full of noodles. She glanced up and saw Marcie watching her with slightly narrowed eyes.

“Marinette went to school with Juleka,” Luka replied easily. “We got to be friends right before I left with Jagged.” His tone was pleasant, but he cut his eyes up at Marcie in a sharp look that Marinette didn’t quite understand. Marcie clearly did, though, because she said something inane and changed the subject. Dingo and Evan exchanged a look, and then Evan looked down at his plate and Dingo looked at Marinette with a thoughtful expression—or at least she thought so, but it was hard to tell because he was still wearing his sunglasses.

She was having trouble getting that mouthful of noodles down with him looking at her like that.

“Ding,” Luka said mildly, without looking away from his own food, and Dingo huffed, shook his head, and went back to eating.

It still took effort to chew and swallow, and Marinette shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and began trying to think of a way to make her exit. Before she could, Luka put down his chopsticks and started closing the containers nearest to him. “Well,” he said, “I’m really grateful for the help today, guys. You guys can all consider one favor knocked off the big stack that every single one of you owes me.”

There was laughter and protests, and Luka raised his voice to be heard over them. “But I’m exhausted, and I still have to shower and get at least enough of my stuff unpacked that I have somewhere to sleep tonight, so I think I’m going to head back. Are you still eating, Marinette?”

“Oh, no, I’m good,” Marinette said hastily, recognizing the out as she began packing up her own containers. “Mind if I walk back with you?”

“Sure,” Luka smiled.

“Hey Lu,” Dingo called after them, and Luka looked back as he opened the door and held it for Marinette. “Don’t be a dumbass, man.”

Luka just flipped Dingo off with his free hand and followed Marinette out of the door.

“They know, huh?” Marinette muttered as the door fell shut behind them, and Luka sighed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Not the details, but...enough. I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable.”

Marinette shrugged. “Not like I don’t deserve it.”

Luka put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed in a light half hug, turning her in the right direction as they started walking. “I forgave you a long time ago, for what it’s worth. We were just dumb kids. Not to say the feelings weren’t real, but let’s just say we hadn’t exactly reached the age of sober judgement yet and leave it at that, okay?”

Marinette shook her head. “I still feel like I...owe you an apology for all that. I wasn’t very considerate of your feelings. If...if it hadn’t been for Adrien…” Marinette began, and trailed off as Luka’s arm tightened around her. “It’s just,” Marinette tried to control her breathing, and blinked quickly to keep the tears back. “I tried so hard to keep everything together, and it all kind of fell apart anyway, and looking back, I just...wish I’d made some different choices about my priorities. About which people I put my energy into. I’m just...I’m sorry I didn’t choose you, Luka. I’m...sorry I didn’t stay in touch after you left.”

Luka blew out a slow breath. “It was a crazy time for both of us. That year with Jagged, it was...it was a lot. I’m honestly not sure I’d have been able to keep up my end, so. Don’t worry about it.”

“You...still don’t get along with Jagged too well?” Marinette ventured.

Luka rolled his eyes. “Having one parent constantly acting like a child was more than enough, I really didn’t need a second parent to take care of.” He winced. “Sorry, that came out a lot more bitter than I meant. It’s not like I expected him to act like a dad, but…” Luka shook his head. “Anyway, a year of that lifestyle was enough. I finally told him I was going home. I’m not interested in anything he can give me. Maybe it would have been different, if I’d done it on my own, but...there is no on my own anymore. I can’t make it in that industry without being attached to him, and I just...don’t want that.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” Marinette said, reaching up and curling her hand around his where it rested on her shoulder. “No, not all.”

He smiled at her, and she dropped her hand. They walked in silence the rest of the way.

“Well, home sweet home,” Luka said, letting his arm fall as they walked up the steps to the balcony that ran along the back of the buildings, providing outdoor access to their apartments. “This gonna be weird,” he admitted, as they paused in front of his door. “I’ve never lived alone before.”

“Me neither,” Marinette admitted with a nervous giggle.

Luka smiled at her. “Well, if you ever need anything, or you just want to talk or hangout or whatever.” He nodded to his door. “You know where to find me.”

“That’s a dangerous promise,” Marinette tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure it worked. “You did so much for me before, and never got anything back for it. I feel like I took advantage of you.”

“You didn’t,” Luka replied immediately, like she should have known he would. “Marinette, even if that were true, and I really don’t think it is...I never did any of that for...payback, or something. I wasn’t expecting anything out of you. I just wanted you to be happy.”

Marinette couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It was true that everything he’d done for her, he’d done voluntarily, and that she had done some things for him, although they were more really for Kitty Section as a whole, but...it didn’t change the way she felt. She’d failed Luka, just like she failed everyone that cared about her.

She jolted slightly when she felt his hand on her shoulder again. Luka let go quickly, his hand hovering there as he looked over her face. She started to open her mouth to apologize, but Luka let his hand drop. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor,” was all he said, and then he turned to unlock his own door. He gave her a smile over his shoulder, and though it looked different on his adult face, it was the same smile he used to give her, the one that said he had faith in her, no matter whether she had any in herself at the moment.

Then his door closed with a quiet click, and she was standing there alone.

“Marinette,” Tikki whispered after a moment, reaching out of Marinette’s purse to touch her hand.

Marinette jumped slightly, and then turned to her own door, fumbling her keys out. She unlocked it and went inside.

“Marinette?” Tikki zipped out of her purse to float at eye level, her expression sympathetic and concerned.

Marinette gave her a weak smile. “I can’t decide if I��m glad he’s there, or if I’m upset about it. He’s always been so observant. What if…” She trailed off, and folded her arms uncomfortably.

Tikki tilted her head slightly. “Is that really what you’re worried about?”

Marinette bit her lip. “Not really,” she admitted. “It’s just…” She folded her arms and chewed her lip, trying to find a way to articulate her feelings. “Luka’s easy to depend on,” she said softly. “Having him right there...I’m not sure it’s good for me. I’m afraid I’ll...I don’t know. Be tempted to lean on him more than I should, and end up hurting him all over again. Not that—not that he feels the same as he did back then, but Luka’s still Luka, he just...he’s a helper, and I’ll end up asking too much and he’ll resent me and he’ll end up selling his shop just to get away from me and—”

“Marinette!” Tikki waved her arms to catch her attention. “Okay, I get it. But Luka does live next door and there’s nothing either of you can do about that now. So what can we do?”

Marinette sighed. “I just have to be careful,” she decided. “I have to make sure I don’t ask him for too much. For...for some things, maybe, because Luka’s discreet and he doesn’t ask questions so there might be times when I can ask him to cover for me and stuff...but not too much. Only when I really need it.”

“Okay.” Tikki flew in close and laid a paw on Marinette’s cheek. “That sounds like a good plan. We just take one day at a time, right?”

“One day at a time,” Marinette agreed, and then smiled. “And we still have to get this apartment fit to live in, so let’s let the others out and get started making this place into home. We can do the groceries tomorrow.” Dinner with Luka had not been in her schedule, after all, but...this once, she didn’t mind.

“That’s the spirit!” Tikki cheered, and followed Marinette towards the bedroom.

It was weird, that first night, with the smell of fresh paint and cardboard, and all the noises from outside that were so different than the ones she was used to. It was hard to go to sleep, especially when there was so much to do, but the kwamis finally bullied her to bed, and their presence tucked in all around her gave her enough comfort to doze off. The same weirdness woke her early in the morning, and she wandered around her apartment like a zombie in her striped pajama pants and tank as she waited for her coffee to be ready.

She was halfway through her second mug, still staring blankly at the pile of boxes and making absent noises of agreement now and then at the chattering kwami perched around her, when a knock on her door made her jump and sent the kwamis scattering for cover.

Frowning, Marinette padded to the door in her bare feet, coffee cup in hand, and stood on her toes to peek out of the slightly-too-high peephole.

“Luka?” she said in surprise, and opened the door.

“Hey,” he smiled at her. “I was going to do a grocery run, and I saw you didn’t have a car, so...I thought maybe you’d like a ride with me?” He held up a motorcycle helmet. “Not exactly the same as my old bike,” he grinned, “But if memory serves, you can handle it.”

Marinette burst into giggles. “I can handle anything you can handle,” she said when she could control herself, folding her arms and cocking a hip.

Luka’s smile warmed, and he winked at her. “Finish your coffee and meet me downstairs in ten.”

It took most of that time for her to dig out her riding gear; she hadn’t expected to need it anytime soon, so it wasn’t particularly accessible, but thanks to her overly detailed box organization system, augmented by a little kwami assistance, she found the right box and got it open, pulling out her black padded jacket with pink panels on the sides, and her carefully-packed black and pink helmet with her flowers stenciled on the side. A little more digging found black motorcycle boots with pink hardware up the side to hold the lacing. She put it all on over a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and hurried for the door.

“Wait!” Kaalki cried, bursting out of another box, towing something sparkly. “Don’t forget these! You haven’t seen him in years, so you simply must look fabulous !”

Marinette giggled and took the glasses Kaalki held out to her. “Thanks, Kaalki.”

“They’re not as good as mine,” Kaalki huffed, fluffing her mane. “But they’ll do.”

Luka did a double-take when he saw her, his eyebrows practically flying off his forehead they shot up so fast. Marinette giggled at his reaction. “Grandma,” she shrugged with a grin, and slid the chrome riding glasses with pink lenses and rhinestones lining the frame. Luka burst out laughing.

“You look amazing,” he said, trying to stifle the laugh.

“Thank you,” Marinette sniffed. “She decked me out so she could take me on a road trip for my eighteenth birthday.”

“Nice,” Luka grinned, zipping up his own padded jacket and swinging one leg over the bike. “I want to hear all about it later.” He jerked his head. “Come on, hop aboard. I hope your list isn’t too long, we can’t carry too much on this thing, but we should be able to get the essentials.”

Marinette didn’t bother answering, putting on her helmet instead and then climbing aboard behind Luka. Her list had been long, but she could live without most of it for a few days. This might actually work out better, giving her a chance to get the essentials so she’d have less to carry when she went back for the rest.

Luka showed her where to put her feet, and grinned back at her before he strapped on his own helmet. “Just like old times.”

“Not quite like old times,” she giggled, putting her hands on his waist. “I’m really glad to have you back though,” she said quietly, not sure whether she wanted him to hear her or not.

He must have heard though, because Luka put one gloved hand over hers for just a moment, and then started the bike. “Tap my shoulder twice if you need me to stop,” he called back as he backed them out of the space. He blew out a breath, and then flipped down his helmet’s visor and took off.

It had been a while since she’d been on a motorcycle, so she tried to concentrate on moving with him as they rode. She was rewarded by a smile when they dismounted the bike and Luka pulled his helmet off. “Your grandma’s a good teacher,” he said. “You’re easy to ride with.”

“Thanks,” Marinette smiled, letting him stow her gear with his. “Don’t buy any bread,” she warned him as they walked into the store. “My parents are going to be by sometime today or tomorrow I’m sure, and as soon as they hear you’re my neighbor I know they’ll bring extra.”

“I’m not going to say no to that,” Luka chuckled. “Anything your dad makes is going to be way better than anything they’ll have here.” They shared a smile, and a slightly awkward silence fell between them as they each picked up baskets and started walking through the store. Marinette wondered if she should go off on her own, but the store wasn’t that big and she’d probably keep bumping into him and then that would be weird and she couldn’t just ditch him—

“How are your folks doing these days?” Luka asked, picking up a box off the shelf.

“O-oh, they’re...they’re good. Well. I mean, pretty much the same as always, you know?” she said, flustered.

“How are they handling you moving out?” he asked, smiling as he put the box in his basket and then stuck his hand in his pocket as they strolled forward.

Marinette let her head drop back and gave a sigh of longsuffering. “They’re...doing their best,” she giggled. “They’re very enthusiastic, but…”

“Holding a lot back?” Luka smiled.

“Not very successfully,” Marinette giggled. “What about you, how’s your family doing? How’s J-Juleka?” she asked, and tensed when Luka gave her a sideways glance.

“Pretty good,” he said, selecting a box from the shelf to put in his basket. “I haven’t told her yet that I ran into you.” He glanced at her again. “You want me to, or should I not? I know you girls lost touch a while ago.”

Marinette shrugged without looking at him, blushing faintly. “I don’t mind. We didn’t have a falling out or anything, just you know...time, and stuff. She probably doesn’t want to hear from me, maybe you should just not mention it.”

Luka smiled, eyes on the shelf as they strolled. “I don’t know. Juleka and me, we were always taught that people have to live their lives, you know? You appreciate them while you have them, and you let them go when your paths drift apart. You were always going places, Marinette, everybody knew that. I don’t think Juleka will hold it against you.” His smile broadened, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “She’s been doing some dream chasing of her own, after all.”

“Really?” Marinette said, taking the phone when he handed it to her. She looked at the image and her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh, she really did it? She’s a model?”

“Cosmetics mostly so far,” Luka told her with a smile. “She’s trying to get into clothing and runway but she’s done really well with the cosmetics companies. Her eyes are so amazing and her skin’s always been flawless.”

“She looks beautiful,” Marinette sighed, handing the phone back. “Is she happy?”

“She seems to be.” Luka pocketed the phone, and went back to shopping, giving a pointed look at Marinette’s empty basket. She hurriedly turned to the shelves too, trying to make herself focus on her list. “Anyway, she’s had to let a few things go in the process, so I think she’d understand. She did have to get a new number a while back, but I can give her yours if you want me to.”

“Well…” Marinette still felt a flutter of nerves, but she pushed it down. “Sure.” She smiled weakly. “You always make everything so easy.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Luka chuckled.

“It is,” Marinette smiled.

“It’s the same for me, you know,” Luka said, and Marinette blinked at him in confusion. “About the friends coming and going, I mean. It’s just a part of life, Marinette. It’s not something you should be embarrassed or ashamed about. It’s just the way things are.” He gave her a kind smile. “There were a lot of friends I left behind that year with Jagged. I wasn’t kidding about how busy I was.”

Marinette smiled, though she kept her focus on the shelves. “You’re still friends with Dingo.”

“Don’t remind me,” Luka chuckled. “I can’t get rid of him. There’s some people, you know, where no matter how long you go without talking. With Dingo, no matter how much time passes, it’s like we last talked yesterday. Besides, he knows all my secrets. I can’t afford to cut him loose.”

Marinette sighed. “That must be nice though. Having someone who knows you that well.”

“Sometimes,” Luka agreed. “Though mostly he just uses it to make my life hell. Thank God he’s still chasing Brielle or I’d never get rid of him. He has to pretend to be an adult at least half the time to convince her he’s still worth wasting her time on.”

“Wow, they’re still together?” Marinette giggled. “That’s impressive.”

“They are, they aren’t, they are again. It’s…” Luka shook his head. “Not my idea of the ideal relationship, but it works for them—well, most of the time—so…” he shrugged. “I’m chronically single, though, so who am I to judge.”

“Really?” Marinette finally looked up at him. “Why? I mean—” she turned red and spluttered, and Luka had to dodge her flying grocery basket as she tried to frantically erase the question with her flailing hands. “Ooooh, I’m sorry, that was so nosy.”

“It’s okay,” Luka laughed. “Relax, Marinette. What about you? Anyone special in your life?”

Marinette’s face heated, but she figured Luka was the last person on earth likely to judge her relationship history. “Me? Oh, no. I had a few flings in high school and uni, but…” she shrugged. “They never lasted long. I’m...not very good at casual, but I don’t have a lot of time to give a relationship. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried it all tended to fall apart sooner rather than later. Eventually, I just stopped trying.”

“Timing,” Luka sighed sympathetically, shaking his head, “Timing is a bitch, no doubt.”

Marinette hunched her shoulders a little. “You can say that again.”

Luka touched her arm gently, and they finished the rest of their shopping with lighter small talk, mostly about all the crazy shenanigans Anarka was up to now that she was free and unfettered with both of her children out of the house.

It took some ingenuity to get their purchases loaded on the bike, and Marinette had a few things precariously wedged between herself and Luka, but they made it home without losing anything, and that was what mattered.

Luka stopped at his door, while Marinette kept walking to hers. She was still trying to get her keys out of her pocket when Luka got his door open.

“Marinette,” he said, and she looked at him in surprise. “If you need anything, let me know, okay?”

“Oh...um, sure,” Marinette said as brightly as she could, remembering her vow the night before not to ask him for anything more than necessary.

“I mean it.” Luka held her gaze for a moment and grinned. “Because I have like a million favors I’d like to ask, and I need to start stockpiling on my end. I could use some help with branding and advertising, for starters.”

Marinette blinked, and then laughed, and she saw his shoulders relax a bit.

“You can just ask, you know,” she told him, and Luka shook his head.

“Nope. Fair’s fair. Every artist deserves payment for their work, I just don’t have the cash handy for it. So if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. It’ll be a down payment on designing my new signage.” He grinned at her one more time, and then opened his door and was gone.

That was...so Luka, she thought affectionately, coming up with a way to put the offer of his help out there in a way she couldn’t refuse. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be mad at him for daring to see through her so easily.

Well. She definitely didn’t want a repeat of last time, where she was constantly taking from him and giving nothing in return. But surely, an equal trade would be okay? She could do that without making it weird.

She opened her door and stepped inside, and was immediately swarmed by kwami hoping for a snack. “Only one each!” she scolded them all, making her way to the kitchen. “We’re never going to make this work if you’re constantly eating me out of house and home.”

“Did you enjoy your trip?” Sass asked her, and she met his knowing smile.

“Yes, I did,” she said, lifting a finger to poke him in the belly. “It’s good to see him again.” She smiled. “He’s doing well, Sass.”

Sass chuckled, still giving her that same look. “That isss good to hear.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are we ssstill painting the shop tomorrow?” Sass asked innocently.

“Yes,” Marinette said firmly. “We have a lot of work to do before the grand opening.”

Fiction Master Post | LBSC 2021 Exchange Collection

#quickspins #guard my heart #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #lbsc 2021 exchange #rated: m

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