#just realized her phone case is of peppy

[violetsareblue-selfships]

aa i have like no images of her yet but I'm adding asta from hsr as a crush~ <3

her tag will be 'love is a gift from the stars 💖🌠'

[iamasphodelknox]

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

“Is there a festival in town or something?” Dean groaned, gripping his hands on Baby’s wheel like he could wish an empty motel to spring up into existence. He’d been looking forward to a real bed after eight hours driving Baby across the country but the flashing red “No Vacancy” sign at the Barely There Inn was the fourth one they’d seen in the last half hour. 

Honestly, he was getting too old for this.

Cas humphed next to him, quietly munching on a homemade granola bar Dean had made from the pumpkins and apples in Cas’s garden. He’d been quiet for most of the drive, unless he was answering a question Dean tossed his way when Zep wasn’t enough to fill the silence. 

Dean could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. You have to talk to him and get your head out of your ass, Dean! You can’t get to where you want to be with him without opening up a little! Dean was trying, alright? Talking was hard when it meant being vulnerable, especially when your companion was the guy you were in love with but in denial about. But Cas had seemed willing enough to go on this case with Dean, since Sam was holding down the phones at the bunker for some of the younger hunters. Cas had even made a comment that it’d be nice for them to get out of town together for a bit.

Dean drove a little further down the highway, spotting another sign just ahead. 

“KOA?” Cas read out loud as they passed the sign. “What’s KOA?” 

Dean felt his heart give a twinge. He hadn’t ever stayed at a KOA, not in all of his and Sam’s treks across the country. Not since… he shook his head once to himself.

“Kampgrounds of America,” Dean muttered. He gripped Baby’s steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“Dean,” Cas turned in his seat, looking back at the sign behind them. “We can camp. It’s not a motel bed, but…”

“No way, Cas,” Dean said, his voice rougher than he meant, rougher than he’d usually be. “No camping.” 

“Dean, we don’t have any other options,” Cas said, annoyingly patient. “And it’s more comfortable than sleeping in the car.” 

“Don’t…” Dean started but Cas cut him off. 

“I’m not mocking your car, Dean,” Cas said with a placating hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m being practical. And isn’t camping something humans do for fun? We should try it.” Cas almost sounded excited.

“What’s fun about getting your balls frozen off?” Dean grunted. He could practically feel Cas roll his eyes at him. “We don’t even have a tent.” 

“I’ll build us a shelter,” Cas said as if it was the easiest thing in the world. “Turn the car around.” 

Dean paused just for a moment, debating about how far he wanted to push it. But Cas had a point. He glanced sideways at Cas and met Cas’s eyes. Damn. He couldn’t say no to his angel no matter how hard he tried. 

Considering Cas wasn’t even his, Dean didn’t know what that made him. Whipped? A sucker? Hopeless? He was sure Sam would use all those terms to describe Dean’s feelings for Cas.

With a dramatic sigh, Dean turned Baby around and drove back to the KOA. It was just after sunset, the barest tint of sunlight just disappearing beneath the trees. 

Dean pulled up to the booth at the entrance, his stomach in knots. He hadn’t been camping since he was five. Hell, he didn’t even have a sleeping bag. But Cas was right. It was worth a shot. 

Dean rolled down the window and was greeted by an unnervingly peppy teenager dressed in a bright yellow shirt, with KOA in red lettering on the shoulder. She grinned at them like it was her purpose in life.

“Hi, welcome! Do you have a reservation?” She spoke in such a way that all her words blended together due to enthusiasm. 

“Uh…” Dean paused. He hadn’t actually thought that part through. How charming did he need to be? Did he need to flirt his way to a campsite? Cas leaned over him, his shoulder tucking into Dean’s chest. 

“Do you have any openings?” Cas asked, suddenly turning into the smooth one in this operation. Dean swallowed, trying not to do anything awkward, like bury his nose in Cas’s neck or something.

The young woman smiled and nodded. “We’re pretty packed tonight, but you guys are lucky. We have one tent site left. How many nights are you wanting to stay?” 

“Just tonight,” Dean grunted, disconcerted by Cas’s… calmness in this whole thing. How was Cas being better at being a human than Dean? 

“That’ll be thirty dollars then,” Peppy-Teen said. Dean passed over the cash and took the map she handed him. 

“Bathrooms are by this building,” she said, circling a spot on the map with a red pen. Cas and Dean watched as she drew a line from the circle to another spot on the map. “This is your campsite.” 

She drew another line from the campsite to what was presumably their current location at the entrance. “Just follow the road to campsite 49. You can’t miss it.” 

“Thank you very much,” Cas said with one of his wide grins, still leaning into Dean like this was something they did every day. Camping, road tripping, just the two of them. 

Dean nodded, smiled - or was it a grimace? - and they bid Peppy-Teen goodnight. Cas pulled away, sitting back in the passenger seat and Dean swallowed down the desire to pull Cas back into his chest. 

Dean drove Baby forward, following the signs, past a playground, the entrance to a lake, what looked like a cafeteria of some sort, a group having a huge bonfire, and finally, three identical mobile homes in a row, to get to site #49. Dean carefully pulled Baby into the parking spot and turned off the motor.

They sat for a moment in perfect silence, the faint singing of some camping song Dean had known a long time ago filtering through the windows. 

“Dean,” Cas said. “Are we going to get out of the car?” 

Dean started, nodded, and opened the door, climbing out of the car. The campsite itself was nice. There was a picnic table, a fire pit, and even an electricity hookup by the parking spot. Not too bad, Dean thought to himself. If they even had camping gear. Or actually went camping. 

It took Dean a moment to realize that Cas was bustling around the campsite gathering sticks and twigs like he was burrowing in for winter. Or planning a massive bonfire of their own. 

“Cas, what’re you doing?” Dean asked, still frozen by the driver’s door. 

“We’ll build an A-frame,” Cas said, passing a bundle of sticks to Dean. “There’s that tarp in the trunk and I think Sam tucked a safety blanket in the glovebox. We’ll use those as insulation and for something to sleep on. With a small fire at the entrance, we should be nice and warm.” 

“Did you take a survival class or something?” Dean asked, still standing still. Maybe it was shock preventing his feet from moving and not the battle of distinct, sentimental emotions from when he was five piling onto his heart after too long of being ignored. 

Cas nodded vaguely. “Online.” 

“Huh,” Dean said. Cas took classes online? What else did Dean not know… first the garden, now online classes? 

Cas bustled about a little longer, piling up sticks and twigs and moss at Dean’s feet like a pyre. Finally, he put the last bundle down on the ground and stood with his hands on his hips, looking pleased with himself. 

“So,” Dean said, clearing his throat, “how does all this become a tent?” 

Cas grinned good-naturedly at Dean. “I’ll show you.”

And that was how Dean learned to build an emergency shelter. Which, honestly, was something he should have earned from his dad considering he grew up on the road. Why hadn’t they ever camped? It had been something his parents loved. 

Cas walked Dean through setting up the A-frame, then draping piles of sticks, twigs, leaves and moss over it to essentially form a natural tent. There was just enough room for the two of them to sleep side by side. 

They built the A-frame close to the fire pit. Dean ran back to Baby’s trunk to grab lighting fluid and matches, piling up wood in the fire pit with no finesse. A hand on his arm stopped him from pouring the whole bottle of lighting fluid on the pile. 

“Actually,” Cas said, his eyes sparkling, “I want to try lighting a fire with just the matches.” 

He looked so giddy and excited, Dean just handed him the matches. 

It took several tries and a lot of twigs, but eventually, they had a comfortable fire. They sat side by side on a log, munching on apple muffins Dean had made with apples from Cas’s garden. Dean felt Cas’s heat all along his side and whenever their shoulders brushed, Dean fought the urge to just lean into Cas without reservation. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said into the silence. “For humoring me.” 

Dean shrugged and this time their shoulders stayed touching. “It’s no problem, Cas.” 

And it wasn’t, not really. Sitting out by a fire, watching the stars, getting to just be, with Cas, for once. Maybe it wasn’t as hard as Dean thought. Maybe getting to where he wanted to be with Cas, with them together, didn’t have to be as insurmountable or as impossible as he feared. Sam did tell him to just talk to Cas, to just be himself and let some of his walls down.

Dean swallowed. He could try. 

“I…” Dean started, twisting fingers together, “I haven’t been camping since my mom was alive. I forgot how nice it can be.” 

Cas didn’t reply right away. Dean could feel Cas looking at him, digesting his statement and all it meant. Cas leaned a bit more into Dean’s shoulder and carefully rested a hand on Dean’s knee. A knot undid itself in Dean’s heart. 

“It is,” Cas said, his voice warming Dean down to his toes. “It’s very nice indeed.”

Read the whole fic as I post chapters throughout Suptober on AO3! Link in comments. :)

[mymegumi]

aere perrenius

pairing: akaashi keiji x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, writer!akaashi and librarian!reader

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff

summary: more lasting than bronze. a once in a lifetime opportunity turns into a twice in a lifetime chance, and before you realize it, it just turns into a potential lifetime

dedicated: to miss issy ( @cafemiya ) kind beyond words, incredible beyond compare

You’d once thought that life was cruel to you, a single librarian that ended up helping children find picture books and nasty teenagers that had to pay their overdue library fees. You often just moved through the movements, walking to the library every single day, picking up coffees for everyone that worked with you that day, and nothing ever really changed.

Until today.

Today, when you walked into the coffee shop that was only a block away from the library—a small little out of the way place that served the best croissants with chocolate butter you’d ever had before—you were shocked to note that there was another singular figure in the shop with you.

Typically when you went in, it was early enough in the morning that you beat out the high schoolers and people who went to their 9-5 jobs, yet you always managed to miss the people who worked night shifts, so the barista often told you.

Today, however, there was a singular figure sitting at a table, laptop on the table with a small white mug of coffee in his hands, glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose as he seemed intent to read whatever it is was on his screen.

His hair was curling over thin golden frames, flowing over his forehead and spilling against his ears as he pressed his lips to the coffee mug, blue eyes focused on the words before him. The morning light had not yet seemed to crest the mountains of skyscrapers that littered the Japanese skyline, so the warm lights of the cafe seemed to soften the edges around him, making him angelic as he just relaxed there.

Perhaps it was the pure shock of seeing him, or even just the lack of sleep you always seemed to suffer from in the mornings following a weekend, but something led to your mistake of forgetting to conceal your admiration of him.

In your trance of adoration, you simply forget the cafe has a bell over the door.

He glances his up when he finishes taking a sip from his drink, offering a smile your way in the way that two people up way too early would share a smile with each other—as if only the two of you knew the secrets that the sunrise would whisper if only you would wake early enough to listen.

“Your usual?”

The barista, a sweet girl named Akira who seemed to be pumped full of espresso for she was way too peppy for this time of the hour, draws your attention away from the man sitting by himself at the window table.

“To go, right?” When you shake your head, she laughs slightly, inputting your usual order into the computer just for her to end up making it only a few seconds later, “What’s with the change today, you always take it straight to the library.”

When she sees you steal a glance at the mysterious stranger, she leans in with a hand cupped around her mouth, devastatingly wicked glint in her eyes as she whispers to you, “He came in a couple of minutes of go, saying he’s new in town. A writer, if you could believe it. Maybe you could warm him up to the area?”

“I have to go to work soon,” you hiss back softly, feeling the warmth take over your cheeks as you resolutely refuse to look back at him in case he heard her gossiping.

“Yet, you’re taking your coffee here?”

She, unfortunately, raises her eyebrows suggestively at you as she slides your drink to you in a small white mug resting on a dish, steaming and hot with a less heated croissant on a separate dish. You make a noise of disbelief as you carefully adjust your bag on your shoulder, taking your breakfast with you to a seat, not too close to the writer and yet not too far away that you are unable to admire him.

Pulling out a book from your bag, you are content to just read and settle in for a few minutes that you would normally spend in the library doing random work until the doors unlocked. It’s a newer novel you’d just picked up from a bookstore, and it was only because the author would be visiting the library soon, so you wanted to get a feel for the writing style, in case there were any questions that the people had for the staff.

“A good read, is it?”

You don’t really register that anyone is talking to you, at first, instead intent on just reading In Regards to Aces before it clicks in your mind two facts; one, that you are indeed holding a book and reading, and two, that you are only one of three people in the establishment, not to mention one of the three was just a barista making herself a coffee.

When it hits you that the stupidly attractive man at the window is indeed talking to you, you shove a bookmark in the spot you were reading as you turn to him, “Ah, yeah, it is, though I don’t have much to say on it considering I just started reading it.”

“Initial thoughts, then?” His smile soothes you a bit, making you relax from the initial tension you’d felt, “I’ve found the author tends to use verbiage that rambles on, but that’s my own opinion on it.”

“Well, from what I have read so far,” you set the book on the table, star embellished cover twinkling in the lights of the cafe, “I like the way that the author describes the character’s feelings—it felt really authentic, and added to the atmosphere for the story.”

“Well, just wait until you read the ending,” he raises an eyebrow at you and a playful look comes across his face for a second before disappearing, “it’s a real gutwrencher, honestly, I’m surprised the author had decided to take it in that direction.”

“Well, hopefully I’ll be able to read a good part of it before the end of the day,” you muse, hand running idly along the edges of the pages, “I’m hoping to be able to talk to the author during the meet and greet later today at the library.”

He makes a thoughtful noise, a small content smile on his face as he sets his mug down on the saucer. There’s a look in his eyes, something that says that he knows something that you don’t, and yet when you go to ask about it, he says instead, “Tell me what you think of it when you finish it, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.”

You watch as he begins to pack up his things, tucking the laptop away into a sleek black backpack, all while sipping gingerly on your drink, “Of course, perhaps I’ll see you again, I’m usually here before work.”

“I look forward to it.”

He shoots you a smile over his shoulder as he leaves the cafe, throwing away his things and setting aside his dishes before he exits. Watching him walk down the street, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Gosh,” Akira’s voice makes you jump in your seat slightly, “he was really pretty; you think he was a model?”

“I don’t know, but he could be if he wanted to be,” you smile to yourself as you check your phone, swearing as you realize you might be a few minutes late, “I gotta get to work, I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”

Chugging the rest of your drink, of which has cooled significantly, you end up rushing out of the door of the coffee shop, leaving a good tip for Akira before you go.

A meet-cute. Is that what that would’ve been considered?

Walking into the library, you have a dopey smile on your lips, and the meeting from the morning lets you float your way through work as if your feet haven’t touched the ground.

The writer meet and greet wasn’t for another few hours so when you were putting books back on the shelves, and when the flow of people tended to slow down, your nose was tucked gently into the pages of the book you’d picked up.

It was wonderfully written, with words that seemed to suck you in and captivate you, unable to truly pay attention to what you needed to be doing. You were so ecstatic to be meeting the author, to be able to see what sort of person they’d turned out to be.

They had been pretty secretive, declining interviews left and right and no one has been able to figure out who they were. No one really knew if Akaashi Keiji was their real name, or just a pen name either, a ghost writer who wanted to leave their mark on the world without claiming any credit for the impression they’d leave behind.

Truth be told, it was something you admired in them.

There was something special about someone wanting to create something, and yet walking about their daily life knowing that not a single person would recognize them for it. They weren’t doing it for fame, or for money, but because they truly enjoyed writing and creating books for people to enjoy.

“If you keep yourself in that book, you’ll never get these shelves done,” shit, you’d thought you tucked yourself far enough into the autobiography section that your coworker, Kaori, wouldn’t be able to find you, “what book is it this time?”

“In Regards to Aces…”

She raises an eyebrow at you, glancing at the big poster of the book’s cover displayed only a few feet away from the pair of you, “Uh-huh, gonna suck up to the writer? Get you a rich, anonymous sugar daddy?”

“Pft,” you smile at her with a crooked grin, “let’s be inclusive here, we don’t know if they identify as a guy, Kaori.”

She shrugs a shoulder at you as you begin to push the cart filled with returned books into the aisle, making your way to the front of the library, “Actually, Akaashi and I went to high school together. When he got famous, everyone at our school, like, made a silent pact to respect his privacy.”

“You know the Akaashi Keiji?” You give her an incredulous look, feet planting firmly in front of the help desk of the library, “As in, coming to our library, has won multiple National Book Awards in a row for their novels Akaashi Keiji?”

“Yeah,” she picks something off of her shirt with a sour look on her face, “I’m pretty sure Bokuto threatened a guy that said he’d leak Akaashi’s school name, but it might’ve been the whole group of them, honestly.”

“Bokuto…” you look at her with a bewildered look in your eyes, “Bokuto Koutarou, MSBY wing spiker, Bokuto?”

“Yeah,” she smiles brightly at you, which you quickly erase with a hand smacking her firmly in the arm, “Oh my god, what was that for?!”

“For not telling me you were surrounded by future celebrities in high school?!”

“Oh, as if there isn’t one person from your school that got famous,” Kaori levels a glare at you as she rubs her arm.

The pair of you are sitting at the reception area now at the front of the library, watching people flow into the seating area set up for the meet and greet. A copy of the book’s cover is set up next to the author’s seat, which is on a small raised platform behind a small red barrier.

“I’m pretty sure a kid in the grade above me moved to Argentina?” She laughs at your answer, a hand over her mouth as someone steps up to the desk, taking both of your attention away from the conversation, “Hey, how can we help yo— oh! Hi, again, how are you?”

Standing before you, straps of his backpack slipping off of his shoulders and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. There’s a little bit of a smile on his lips as he sighs, “Oh. Hello, I’m good. I rushed here because I was worried about being late—Kaori?”

“Akaashi,” she smiles at him, hand reaching out to shake his hand easily as you stare at the both of them flabbergasted, “Didn’t you get my text earlier about you coming to the library?”

“No, I was busy with the moving vans,” he turns his gaze on you and you swear your mouth dries up a little bit, “After I got a cup of coffee, I was arguing with the movers about a van of stuff that got lost. Turns out they were on the wrong side of town.”

“You mean to tell me,” you interrupt, hand coming up to stop Kaori from speaking, eyes trained on the wavy-haired man in front of you, “that you asked for my opinion on your book? Your own book?”

He gives a cheeky grin, teeth showing as he raises an eyebrow, “It’s easier to hear honest opinions if people don’t know I’m the author.”

You roll your eyes at him before he turns back to Kaori for a quick second, “Kaori, would you mind getting me some water, oh and maybe even a snack?”

She nods easily, hair swishing lightly as she pats you on the back and leaves, “‘Course, meet you up on the stage, bigshot.”

When she leaves, there’s a bit of an awkward silence, something like you don’t know what to say, and yet you know if you were to say anything, something might change. It’s only a feeling, but you suddenly want to spend as much time with this man as possible.

Now in the late afternoon light, you study him in a way you didn’t get to before. The warm sunlight that filters in through the windows makes his hair seem a bit light, but still just as unruly as it was this morning. His eyes are inquisitive, sharp in a way that observes and analyzes all within a moment’s notice.

There are patches of red and blue light dancing along his shoulders, refractions from the sun through the stained glass windows. His shirt is a little wrinkled but otherwise neat, one of the sides untucked as his loose tie hangs from around his neck.

He’s even prettier in the daylight, you decide.

“I’m sorry lied to you this morning,” his voice drops a little bit, inflection careful as he looks at you, “I promise I won’t lie to you anymore, if that means anything.”

“Well, if I catch wind of you lying,” you start, sidestepping the swinging door of the counter to start walking towards the stage area, “I’ll make your life a living nightmare, I know where you get your coffee, sir.”

“Oh, not the coffee,” He holds his hands up in surrender, “I loved their dark roast, where else in the town am I supposed to get it?”

“That, mister, sounds like a you problem,” you want to see him smile more, is the first thing you think when he laughs, “but only if you get on my bad side.”

“Do you think going out for dinner sometime might put me on your good side?”

There are moments in life that can shatter and alter the way that you think and perceive things for the future. For instance, that one time a teacher had given you a recommendation on a book had jumpstarted your love of reading which had turned into a job with lovely friends. If not for that one teacher, who knew where you would be now, because life is funny and doesn’t work out the way you think it will when things aren’t set exactly in motion.

This is one of those moments, and you know it is, because as he asks you out on, assumably, on a date, you envision a life for yourself.

A life filled with moments and snapshots with Akaashi Keiji at your side. He kisses your cheek one morning as you both make coffee for each other, his hand is warm on the small of your back as he leads you through the grocery store, and his voice is loving as he whispers to you at night before you fall asleep.

Now, you’ve always been somewhat a romantic, but you think this is the first time you’ve ever envisioned a life like this upon a second meeting. As Akaashi waits for your response, face neutral but content, you smile to yourself.

“Yeah,” you respond, leaning close to bump your shoulder against his gently, “I think getting dinner might boost your standings with me.”

[cmfan3]

The Perfect Gentleman

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau X Emily Prentiss

Warning: Language

Words: 3.6K

Sorry for making you guys wait for this one. I’ve been a bit busy, but I haven’t stopped writing and I do have more works in the process. Thanks for reading !

The team had just wrapped up a new case in New Orleans with the help of detective Will LaMontagne, Jr. The team made their way towards their SUVs, splitting in two groups. Rossi, Reid and Hotch decided to head to the precinct while Prentiss, Morgan and Penelope waited for the other blonde to finish her conversation with Will.

The detective glanced back at the remaining members before turning towards JJ with a flirtatious glint in his eye, “and now you're leaving? How will I survive a woman like you going so far away?”

Her mouth twitched in amusement, “well, despite what you may have heard... Cell phones can be very good for your health.”

Will smiled confidently as they exchanged numbers, being sure to send a wink her way as she walked back towards her waiting team, prompting a giggle to escape her lips.

Emily’s face dropped as she had watched the whole scene unfold, causing Penelope and Derek to look at each other with concern. “Hey sweetcheeks, don’t think too much about it. It’s just a phone number,” the blonde reached back and softly squeezed the older woman’s hand.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Derek noticed that Emily avoided eye contact, “listen princess, she’s right. It’s not like they’re dating or anything. They’re just friends.” “For now,” the brunette mumbled as she began to chew on her fingernails.

Realising that JJ was on her way to the SUV, the three let the subject drop, but the tension in the car was definitely noticeable. The communications liaison jumped in the back next to Emily, not paying attention to the way all three members tensed as she entered with a bashful smile on her face.

Unnoticed by JJ, who was too busy typing away on her phone, the brunette’s shoulders sagged and her head fell back against her seat. Morgan started up the car and began driving back to the precinct, occasionally glancing back at the older woman with worry shining in his eyes.

After a couple minutes of tense silence, Emily decided that she had enough. Dropping her head slightly and peeking at the phone, she questioned, “so you and detective LaMontagne?”

The question made the blonde’s fingers hover over the screen for a split second before they continued their typing. She didn’t respond to the question, but the blush that rose on her cheeks was enough for Emily’s heart to clench.

The rest of the drive was silent except for the occasional sound of JJ’s fingers clicking away at her phone.

Seven months later and the team was somewhat shocked that the detective and their communication liaison were still in touch. Although JJ tried to stay secretive about it, the team knew where she was going when she was “visiting her mother” every month.

Realizing that the blonde was completely head over heels for the detective, Emily decided that she needed a distraction and tried to find a companion. She brought up the idea to Penelope, causing the peppy woman to let out a series of excited squeals.

Penelope insisted that the older woman should get a cat and so they spent countless days visiting shelters but it was to no avail. Two weeks after the idea was brought up, the team solved a particularly rough case, which caused Emily’s desire for a companion to increase.

The brunette stopped by Penelope’s room before leaving and popped her head through the door, “hey, PG. I just wanted to stop by and let you know that I’m going cat searching again today. After that case, I definitely want a friend to come home to.”

“I hope you know I’m definitely coming with you,” the tech analyst jumped out of her chair and began grabbing her stuff, “I can’t believe you were about to go cat searching and not invite your best friend.”

Emily playfully rolled her eyes and let out a chuckle, “yea, yea, I won’t do it again. Buttt, I’ll be in the car. Don’t take too long or I’m leaving without you.” Penelope let out a gasp and called over her shoulder, “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss, you wouldn’t dare. Your credit score is on the line.”

The brunette laughed and began walking away, “ok fine. But hurry up and get your cute little butt in the car. I’m waiting.” The younger woman turned and sent a playful wink, “oh don’t worry sweetcheeks, I won’t keep you waiting too long.”

True to her word, Garcia jumped into the passenger seat only a few minutes later. The older woman reached forward and turned the key in the ignition, starting the car while the tech analyst connected her phone and picked music.

Penelope set her phone down and clasped her hands together excitedly as they pulled out of the parking garage, “we’re gonna find the one. I can feel it.” “Whatever you say PG,” Emily shook her head as her lips quirked up in amusement.

Garcia’s scream rang out across the room, scaring a few passerbys, “OH MY GOD- E! Come look at this cutie! He’s absolutely perfect and don’t even think about convincing me otherwise.”

Emily cautiously made her way over, scared to see what Penelope had decided on, but when her eyes landed on the black cat, she knew that her friend was right. He was perfect. “Alright then, he’s the one,” the older woman chuckled as Garcia’s grin got even bigger.

Emily bent down and picked up the tomcat. Her heart swelled with affection when he pushed into her and started purring softly. Seeing the way her friend was already falling in love with him, the blonde did a little happy dance, causing Emily to give a lopsided grin as her eyes twinkled.

“So, Pen,” the brunette passed the cat to her friend, “what should we call him?” Penelope’s mouth dropped and her eyes widened, “you want me to name him? Em, he’s your cat.”

“He’s our cat,” Emily smiled gratefully at the woman in front of her, “you found him, did you not?” The peppy woman smiled and hugged the cat to her chest as she rattled off names, “Houdini? Loki? Shadow?”

Noticing the way Emily’s features slightly scrunched up, Penelope thought for a moment before she lit up, “Sergio.” The older woman smiled softly, repeating the name to herself before responding, “I love it.”

Emily hadn’t even had the cat for more than a day before she started telling her team all about him the next day. She was talking to Spencer and Derek when JJ walked in, hearing the last few parts.

“You guys have no idea. I absolutely love Sergio. He’s the perfect gentleman. I don’t think I’d ever have found him if it weren’t for Garcia. He always listens and never makes a mess-”

JJ cleared her throat, letting her presence be known to the group of three, cutting their conversation short, “we have a case.” The three looked at each other awkwardly before they got up and headed towards the conference room, the blonde following them.

Why am I upset? It’s good that Emily finally found a man. I have a boyfriend who loves me and I love him. I love Will. So why am I bothered that Emily-

Not realizing that her team members stopped walking, JJ bumped into the older woman’s back, causing her to fall forward. Before Emily could hit the ground, the blonde’s arms snaked around her waist, holding her upright.

Feeling how JJ’s arms wrapped around her, Emily’s breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat. The younger woman’s brain seemed to malfunction and she didn’t move until she heard someone cough awkwardly. Damnit Spencer.

JJ jerked her arms away bashfully while a blush was already creeping on her face. She cleared her throat and walked to her chair while Emily took her seat, both avoiding eye contact but still aware of each other’s presence.

Penelope watched the scene unfold and her brain started wracking for an explanation as to why JJ became as flustered as the brunette. Her eyes widened, it hit her. JJ is in love with Emily.

Realizing that the team was waiting for her to start the presentation, she grabbed the remote and turned on the projector. Before turning towards the screen, she gave Emily a not so subtle wink.

The blonde profiler looked between the two women, taking in how the tech analyst waggled her eyebrows and the older woman’s forehead creased from what seemed to be confusion. I need to talk to Pen later.

“Wheels up in twenty,” Hotch’s voice called out. The team members gathered their things and began heading out but before Penelope could leave, JJ placed her hand on her shoulder, “can we talk?”

“Of course, goldilocks,” the tech analyst sat down, pulling her friend with her, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” JJ suddenly became shy, squirming in her seat, “I just overheard Em talking to Morgan and Spence. I guess I just wanna make sure that he’s treating her well.”

Penelope’s eyebrows knitted together, “what? who?” JJ’s hands wrung each other out, “Sergio? Em was telling the boys how she loves him and he’s the perfect gentleman. So I guess what I’m trying to ask is, is he good enough for her?”

Realizing that her friend had no idea that Sergio was actually a cat, Penelope bit her lip to keep from laughing, “yea- yes. He’s good enough for her. More than good enough. He’s what she needed. Don’t worry about it, goldilocks, he’d never hurt her.”

The peppy woman was somewhat shocked to see how her friend’s shoulders seemed to deflate and her face fell for a split second before a forced smile took form. JJ silently got up and patted Penelope’s shoulder before walking out and going to her office.

As soon as she walked in, she shut the door behind her, not bothering to lock it as she fell onto the couch, the tears already building. Come on Jennifer. Why does this bother me so much? I can’t have feelings for Emily, can I? I love Will. We’ve been toge-

Her thoughts were interrupted by Penelope barging in and hurriedly closing it shut behind her. The tech analyst sat on the couch next to her friend and grabbed her hands. Penelope waited until JJ calmed down and sat up before she questioned, “Jen, do you like Emily?”

JJ let out a long sigh, thinking before she answered, “no? Yes? I don’t know, Pen. I have Will. I love him.” Penelope tilted her head and looked at the distressed woman, “but you’re not in love with him… Are you?” The tears that broke free and travelled down JJ’s face were enough of an answer.

The tech analyst gathered her friend into her arms and began rubbing circles on her back, “tell her how you feel.” JJ pulled back in surprise and wiped her tears away, “Pen- no. I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to ruin what she has. What about Will? How do I break the news to him?”

“Take it one thing at a time. Tell Emily first, you’ll deal with the rest of it as it comes,” Penelope insisted. After a few minutes, she nodded to herself, deciding that her friend was right.

JJ reached out and squeezed her friend’s hands tightly, “thank you,” she whispered. The peppy woman smiled, “anything for you, goldilocks. Now go get your woman.” “After the case,” JJ smiled gratefully.

The case had only taken two days and the team had just gotten back to Quantico. The members were each getting their things and going to their respective cars, ready to head home for the night.

Realizing that the conversation she was about to have would be better in private, JJ decided to head to the brunette’s penthouse. Penelope saw the determination on her friend’s face and she couldn’t be happier at how things were playing out.

Emily had just gotten settled on the couch with a cup of red wine and Slaughterhouse-Five. Sergio was sleeping on her lap when she heard knocking on the door. Glancing at the clock, she was confused as to why someone was knocking on her door at 10:27 PM.

After the knocking wouldn’t stop, she called out, “coming!” She set the book down on the table and softly moved Sergio off her lap before she made her way towards the door.

Swinging the door open, the older woman was surprised to find JJ standing there, nervously tapping her foot. Emily questioned, “JJ? Are you ok? Is something wrong?” The blonde took a deep breath before answering, “yes, actually. Something is wrong.”

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but JJ continued before she could say anything, “I know you just met someone and I don’t want to make anything harder for you. I overheard you talking to the boys and how you met this amazing man named Sergio and how you love him, and well- I guess it made me realize my feelings for you.”

The brunette felt like she was in a dream, but she bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing at the confusion. She nodded her head softly, indicating to her friend to continue.

“I know I have Will. He’s amazing. I love him. I really do. But, I’m not in love with him,“ the younger woman explained. Emily’s eyes widened in realization, but JJ continued, “I’m not in love with him because I’m in love with you, Emily Prentiss. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least tell you.”

The older woman was frozen in place, unable to process what she just heard fast enough since her brain had turned to mush.

JJ searched Emily’s eyes for some sort of answer before she turned and began walking away, the hurt in her voice evident, “it’s ok, you can just forget about it. I’m sorry.”

Seeing that the woman she loved was walking away from her was enough to spur Emily into action. She reached out and grabbed the blonde’s hand, squeezing it softly. Unable to meet the brunette’s eyes, JJ stared at the ground. Emily’s eyes twinkled and a smile tugged at her lips, “I have a confession too. Sergio is actually… my cat.” JJ’s head snapped up and she frantically searched the older woman’s face, her heart swelling with hope.

Laughing at the reaction, Emily slowly pulled the smaller woman closer, placing a hand on her cheek, “and I’m in love with you too Jayje. I have been since I can remember.” The corner of JJ’s mouth quirked up and she turned scarlet, “if this is a joke, it’s not funny Em.”

Smiling softly, Emily leaned in, placing a light kiss on the blonde’s lips before pulling back, “I promise, it’s not. I’m in love with you, Jennifer Jareau.”

JJ wrapped her arms around the brunette’s neck, pulling her in for a more passionate kiss. Emily’s hands reached down and gripped the younger woman’s hips as their lips melded together.

But before things could escalate, JJ jumped back and nearly screamed when she felt something furry rub on her legs. Emily quickly looked down and loudly laughed when she realized it was just Sergio. She bent down and picked him up, “speak of the devil. Jayje, this is Sergio.”

The blonde reached out and scratched him behind the ears, his purrs reverberating through his body. The older woman watched how the woman she loved fell in love with the black tomcat.

JJ’s heart promptly melted from the affection he was showing her. She glanced up and became shy when she saw how Emily was staring at her like she was the only person in the world.

The brunette’s eyes crinkled as a smile stretched across her face, “how about we go inside?” The younger woman leaned in and placed a light kiss against her lover’s lips before speaking regretfully, “I would love to, but I need to go talk to Will and tell him everything.”

Emily nodded understandingly and bent down, setting Sergio back inside before she gathered the smaller woman in her arms, kissing the top of her head, “I’ll be here waiting. I love you.”

JJ’s eyes closed as she hummed in response, leaning into the embrace, “I love you too.” The two separated after another minute, each going their separate way, hearts full and hopes high for the future.

Hearing the front door open, Will leaped from the couch and practically ran towards it. As soon as JJ stepped inside, he gathered her in his arms and sighed a breath of relief.

The blonde backed out of his embrace, noticing how he didn’t give her the same feeling of safety that she got when she was in Emily’s arms. His features formed into those of hurt, “ma chérie?”

“Will, we need to talk,” the profiler sighed as she led him to the couch. She sat down and placed her hands in her lap, quietly thinking about the best way to approach it while he searched her face for some kind of explanation.

JJ took a deep breath before making eye contact, “the first thing I want to say is that you’ve been nothing but amazing to me and I wish I didn’t have to do this because I really do love you, Will.”

“Then don’t do this,” he pleaded while the hurt was evident on his face. Realizing that she was the one causing him pain, tears began to pool in the blonde’s eyes.

She squeezed his hands as she continued, “Will. I love you. I do. But I’m not in love with you.” The detective pulled his hands from her grasp and began pacing and his mood seemed to completely switch, “who is it?”

The profiler looked taken aback, “I- I don’t- what are you getting at, Will?” He continued pacing as he threw his hands in the air from frustration, “you know what I’m talking about Jennifer. Who are you in love with?”

JJ averted her eyes as she whispered, “Emily.” Will stopped pacing and stood in front of her, letting his arms drop to his sides, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The blonde’s head snapped up, her feelings of guilt being replaced with those of anger, and her eyes narrowed, “excuse me?”

“Yea, excuse you. That’s disgusting. You have a man who cares for you. Loves you. And you wanna go and be a dyke? You should be disgusted with yourself. Fucking pathetic,” Will nearly shouted, the malice in his voice clear.

Letting out a breathless laugh as she got up and gathered her things, JJ replied, “and to think- I loved you once. Well I’m glad you showed your true colors, detective.”

“Get the fuck out,” he spat. “With pleasure,” the profiler walked out and slammed the door behind her. As she started her car, she knew exactly where she could go, she pulled out of the driveway, glad to finally be able to love the older woman freely.

Emily was curled up in her bed with Sergio when someone pounding at the door woke her up. She glanced at the clock. 1:13 AM Fucking hell. I swear to god, if it’s anyone but Jennifer-

Her thoughts were interrupted when the knocking continued, causing her to get out of bed and pad towards the door. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called out and when the knocking didn’t stop, she yelled, “hold your goddamn horses! I’m coming!”

Upon opening the door, her anger faded into worry, “Jen-” When suddenly, she was cut off by the younger woman practically jumping forward and passionately connecting their lips.

Pulling away for a breath, Emily saw stars behind her eyelids and a smile ghosted her lips as she let out a shaky breath. JJ’s face broke out in a carefree grin, “I’m sorry, I had to.”

“It’s not like I’m complaining,” the brunette laughed and pulled her lover into a soft kiss before leading her inside and shutting the door behind them.

The two women were cuddled up in Emily’s bed. The older woman had her arms wrapped around JJ while the blonde laid with her head on Emily’s chest, listening to her heartbeat.

Emily ran one hand through the blonde hair while her other hand lightly travelled up and down JJ’s spine. Feeling safe in the brunette’s arms, JJ wrapped her arms around the other woman’s torso.

The younger woman cleared her throat, “I just wanted to tell you that me and Will are officially over.” Not able to see her reaction, JJ focused on how she heard Emily’s heartbeat quicken and how the brunette smiled into her hair.

Emily audibly swallowed before she questioned, “how did the conversation go? And what does it mean for us? I definitely want to build something with you Jen, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

The smaller woman looked up and made eye contact with the chestnut eyes she’s always loved, “it definitely didn’t go how I expected, but it’s over. And I want to build something with you too. That’s all I want. I want to grow with you. I want to love you for as long as you’d let me, Em.”

Leaning down, the older woman placed a gentle but loving kiss upon JJ’s lips before she pulled back and caressed her cheek, “I can’t think of anything that I’d want more, Jayje.”

“I love you,” the two women simultaneously declared with goofy but loving smiles on their faces as they got comfortable in each other's arms and let the exhaustion of the day overtake them.

[bipanichotch]

bury me in memory [1/?]

chapter one: the ones who don’t slow down at all

Summary: After getting caught in a rainstorm, Victoria Bishop spends the night at the Hotchners’ and has a bonding moment with Jack.

Pairings: Hotch x Haley, eventual Hotch x F!OC

Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff

Warnings: Non-specific mentions of past abuse.

Word Count: 2.5k

ao3 link

next chapter

“Working late again?”

Victoria Bishop was only teasing, but Aaron Hotchner didn’t seem to hear her. In fact, when she peered a little closer at his desk, she realized that he hadn’t heard her—because he was asleep. About thirty seconds from drooling on whatever very important form he’d been in the middle of filling out, by her reckoning, so she knocked sharply on the doorframe and tried again, a little louder:

“Hotch.”

He jolted upright, right hand falling to his gun, and Bishop threw her palms in the air until he gained his bearings. “Sorry,” he said, blinking hard. “What is it?”

“You were asleep at your desk—don’t worry,” she said with a little laugh as he scrambled for his phone to look at the time, “It’s not quite nine.” Still far too late to be in the office, but she couldn’t really talk, since she’d also been finishing paperwork. “You look like death warmed over.”

He rubbed at his face with one broad hand. “It’s been a long few days.”

She winced sympathetically. They’d been in Arizona for three days on a kidnapping case, and hadn’t gotten back until the late afternoon; Hotch hadn’t left his desk since then except to get more coffee or use the bathroom. “Yeah. You should get some sleep. Real sleep. In a bed.”

“I’ll just pack up and then I’ll drive home, I promise.”

Bishop snorted. “You think I’m letting you drive when you’re tired enough to pass out at your desk? No way.”

“Bishop, you really don’t—”

She held up a hand. “I’m not hearing it, Hotchner. I’ll drop you off at home, and I’ll pick you up come morning. It’s really no trouble.”

He stared at her silently, tired-eyed, but finally nodded. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I don’t think I could live with the guilt if you ran yourself off the road because you fell asleep at the wheel.” She patted her hand against the doorframe, then gestured behind her. “I’m going to grab my jacket and pack up. I’ll meet you by the elevator in five?”

Hotch nodded. “Sure.”

“And I mean five. If you’re not there, I’m coming back up here and dragging you out of this building by force.”

His lip twitched. “I’ll be there.”

In fact, he was out of his office before she was done re-ordering her desk. Tossing her favorite pen back into its proper place in her I will probably spill this coffee mug (a gift from Morgan that she refused to actually drink coffee out of, in case she did spill it), she shouldered her bag and followed Hotch out of the bullpen.

He hit the call button for the elevator. “You’re sure you’re alright with picking me up again in the morning?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure. Besides,” she grinned, “You come in so early that I’ll have time to stop and get coffee before I have to clock in.”

The elevator dinged its arrival, and they filed in for a companionably quiet ride down to the parking garage. They didn’t speak until they got into her government-issued dark blue sedan, when Hotch muttered his address just clearly enough for her to type it into the GPS. Some late night radio show—she never paid attention to what channel was playing on her commute—burbled below the peppy artificial voice brightly telling her to Turn left onto Investigation Parkway!

“We did good this week,” she said as she checked for oncoming traffic. There wasn’t any, since they were probably the last two FBI agents in the building, but it would be just her luck to drive Hotch home one time and get them both killed in an accident. “Those parents wouldn’t have gotten their little boy back without us.”

“We might not have if it weren’t for your hostage negotiation.” In 1,000 feet, turn right. “I know I didn’t tell you that you did a good job—”

“You didn’t need to,” she interjected. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”

The rest of the drive was pretty quiet, though Bishop didn’t mind; Hotch wasn’t especially chatty at the best of times, and if she didn’t catch the reflection of street lights in his eyes every time that she turned to check the passenger window for oncoming cars, she might have thought he was asleep. Not long after leaving the office, it started to sprinkle, which quickly turned into rain, which had, by the time the GPS announced Your destination is on the right about twenty minutes later, become a torrential downpour.

“This one, here?” she asked. Normally she would just check the house number, but it was hard to make out through the rain, even with the wipers on the highest setting.

“This is it,” Hotch said. “Thank you, again.”

“I already told you it was no problem—here, I have an umbrella in the backseat, I’ll walk you up to the door.” She twisted around to fish it out of the footwell, adding: “There’s nothing worse than being tired and damp. I’ll save you the misery.”

Umbrella firmly in hand, she stepped out of the car and jogged over to the passenger’s side so Hotch could get out without getting immediately rained on—though, she was quickly realizing, the stiff wind meant that the umbrella wasn’t actually doing its job all that well. Her slacks were already soaked. She also hadn’t considered the height difference between her and Hotch; when he stood, she had to extend her elbow more in order to keep him from hitting his head on the umbrella’s metal frame.

At least the Hotchner home had a covered porch, Bishop mused as she shook out her umbrella and closed it while Hotch unlocked the door.

“Aaron?” Haley’s voice was audible from deeper in the house. The two women had only met a few times, mostly at bar nights, but Victoria liked her; she liked seeing her and Hotch together, and she liked knowing that they were good parents to their son. The world needed more good parents. And Hotch needed more reasons to smile—Haley gave him plenty.

“I’m home,” he confirmed.

“I brought him back safe and mostly dry,” Bishop added.

Haley stepped into view, presumably from the kitchen based on the dish and dish rag in her hands. “Victoria? You drove him home?”

She snorted. “He was half-passed out at his desk, and I didn’t want him to end up in the Potomac. I’ll pick him up in the morning, and he can take his work car back home tomorrow. It was no problem, really.”

“Pick him up in the morning?” Haley was all incredulity as she looked pointedly past them, at the storm raging outside. “You’re not seriously driving home in this, especially not when we have a perfectly good guest room.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly—"

“Haley’s right,” Hotch said. “I don’t think the rain’s going to clear up anytime soon. We can throw the stuff from your go bag in the wash so you have something to wear tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure I’m not imposing, then I’ll gladly stay. I’ll just grab—” She was ready to say my bag, but Hotch had already strode off the porch and back towards her car. Bishop sighed, then stepped inside when Haley gestured her in. “He’s undoing all the hard umbrella work I did to stop him from getting wet on the walk up here!”

Haley laughed. “He’s a stubborn man. Not that you can talk, from what I’ve heard.”

“Ouch! All my many virtues and flaws, and all he gossips about is how stubborn I am?” Bishop deposited her umbrella in a modern-looking umbrella rack, then toed off her heels.

“He talks about how stubborn you all are. It’s the only thing that doesn’t violate the no-case-details rule.”

She wondered if the no-case-details rule was Haley’s or Hotch’s, but didn’t ask; it was a fair enough request either way. “I’m assuming Jack is asleep? How old is he now, anyway?”

“He’s seven months. And he is, but he’ll wake up no matter what, so I don’t really worry about it.”

“Oh, so he’s at that stage?”

“Who’s at what stage?” Hotch had finally returned from the car, soaked through from the whipping rain with Bishop’s bag on his shoulder.

“Your son,” Bishop said, “Is at the stage where he wakes up constantly no matter what you do. Speaking of, Haley, if you need a break for the night, you can put his baby monitor in my room.” She grinned. “I was a nanny during undergrad for extra cash. Parents called me the baby whisperer.”

Haley shook her head. “I’ll keep that in mind if we ever need a sitter and my sister isn’t available, but I’ve got him tonight.”

“I should do it,” Hotch said.

Haley rolled her eyes. “Aaron, you look ready to pass out. I’ll put Victoria’s clothes in the wash. Go to bed.”

He smiled slightly, a little dopey and absolutely overflowing with affection, and gave her a quick kiss. “Yes, ma’am.”

Haley swatted at his arm. “Go!”

“I’m going, I’m going! Goodnight, Bishop.”

“G’night, Hotch.”

With another quick kiss to his wife, he ambled off.

“Here, I’ll show you where the guest bedroom and bathroom are,” Haley said. She led Bishop up the stairs and down a tastefully decorated hallway, opening a door on the left to reveal a clean, decently-sized bathroom with a shower-tub combo. “Towels are in the cupboard above the toilet, and there’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash—although I guess you might have all that in your bag.”

“I do. Thank you, though.”

“Thank you for getting him home at a semi-decent time. Even if he is exhausted.” She flicked off the light, and opened the next door into a light blue room with a pillow-covered queen-sized bed. “I’ll go put your clothes in the wash. They’ll be dry when you wake up.”

“Haley,” Bishop protested, “I can do my own laundry, I really don’t mind.”

“You look almost as ready to keel over as Aaron. When was the last time you slept?”

She tried to think. They’d caught the unsub at something like 3 AM, caught a few hours of sleep, finished up paperwork at the local station, and then flown home—but she’d been so wound up with adrenaline that she hadn’t slept until they were on the jet, and even then, only fitfully. “Well…”

Haley arched her brows. “Any answer to that question that starts with well isn’t a good enough answer. Take a shower and go to bed, Victoria.”

Pitching her voice low in a purposefully terrible impression of Hotch: “Yes, ma’am.”

“Ugh, you’re both terrible!”

Bishop laughed, and stepped back towards the bathroom. “It’s good to see you, Haley.”

Haley smiled. “You too. I’ll leave a set of pajamas outside the bathroom door. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

--

“Bishop—eggs over easy, right?” Hotch asked over his shoulder from where he stood at the stove.

“Correct, boss-man! Two pieces of twelve-grain?”

“Yes. And one slice of the weight watchers for Haley.”

They’d tried to keep her from helping with breakfast, too, but as soon as Haley had gone to get Jack out of bed, Bishop had taken it upon herself to lend some sort of hand. If that meant overseeing the toast, so be it. She hadn’t shared a kitchen with anybody since her academy days, but the ease with which the Hotchners moved around each other made learning the flow of breakfast-time easy.

“I should have known you’d manage to help with something, guest or not,” Haley half-scolded as she re-entered the kitchen, setting Jack down on the tiles.

“You’re right, you should’ve,” Bishop retorted with a smile. “What do you want on your toast?”

“Jam, thank you,” she answered, pulling mugs down from a cupboard. “There’s peanut butter up to your right, if you want it.”

“Thanks.”

As she buttered her & Hotch’s toast and spread jam onto Haley’s, Bishop felt a tiny hand grab hold of her slacks. Glancing down, she saw that Jack had made his way over to her and was now holding on with all his strength. As she watched, he tugged, trying to get his feet under him—

“Haley, Hotch. Has Jack stood up yet?”

“No,” Haley said, “why—oh my God. Aaron, get the camera.”

Hotch turned, saw what was happening, and grabbed a digital camera from the top of the fridge. Just as he turned it on, Jack tugged himself to his feet, firmly gripping Bishop’s leg. He looked up at her, let out a delighted shriek, and Hotch snapped a photo. The flash from the camera startled Jack, who released his death grip on Bishop’s calf—for a moment, he balanced precariously on his own, but she knew that wouldn’t last.

So did Hotch and Haley; there was a mad dash from all three of them to catch Jack before he fell down, and before she even realized she’d reacted, Bishop found herself with the young boy giggling in her arms.

“Yeah, I bet that was fun for you, wasn’t it?” She muttered to him. Jack, oblivious to his near-fall, babbled at her and patted at her face with his considerable baby strength. She grunted as his tiny fist connected with her nose. “Christ, you take after your daddy, don’t you?”

“Don’t be so sure,” Hotch said. “Haley’s got a mean right hook.”

“Don’t get in a fight with Haley, noted,” she joked, moving to pass Jack back to his mom. When she tried, though, Jack shrieked again and grabbed ahold of her blouse.

“He likes you,” Haley laughed. The little boy giggled at the sound, then giggled louder as Bishop planted a big kiss on his forehead.

“I’m glad.” Lowering her voice to an exaggerated whisper, she said: “Jack. Don’t tell your mom or your dad, but you’re my favorite Hotchner.”

He babbled back at her, and she nodded seriously, as if he’d made a very good point. “Agreed. Shake on it?” She shifted him around to settle him on her hip and offered him her hand, which he promptly shoved into his mouth. Not unexpected; still kind of gross. “That works, too.”

��Jack, don’t teeth on Victoria,” Haley said, extricating him from her arms despite his wordless protests. “She has to eat breakfast and take Daddy to work.”

A string of unintelligible babble.

“I know,” Bishop agreed, “it’s just not fair. I guess I’ll just have to get stuck in a rainstorm again so we can hang out. Sound good?”

More babble. She’d always liked kids to an extent, but her own childhood was so awful that she’d sworn long ago to never raise a child, terrified she’d become her mother or worse, her father. Looking at Jack giggling away in his mother’s arms, though, she reconsidered. Maybe, if she found the right partner, parenthood would be nice.

“You’re welcome any time,” Haley said, handing Jack off to Hotch. Bishop’s heart twisted as the little boy gave his dad a messy kiss on the cheek. Scratch maybe; for the first time in her life, Victoria knew that she wanted a family someday.

The only trick would be finding someone like Haley who could stand her job.

next chapter

TAGLIST (LIKE THIS POST TO BE ADDED):

@hotchley

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

FatGum (Taishiro Toyomitsu) X Chubby! Confectioner/Baker! Reader: Sweets and Treats~

(Description: Woo, I’m so excited for my first story on this account! This inspiration came to me after thinking about our one and only, favorite chubby pro hero and me wanting to see some puppy love for you two. Also, the title says Confectioner/Baker, I want to clarify that Reader isn’t truly a baker but I feel like “Confectioner” wouldn’t reach as large of a crowd as “Baker” would, not a big deal but just FYI. I hope my first fic is enjoyed by those who choose to read, thank you for the support.)

~

Fanfiction Lingo

(Y/N) - Your Name

(H/C) - Hair Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(F/C) - Favorite Color

~

“Normal speech.”

‘Inner thoughts.’

~

Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Female (She/Her)

Style of Story: Oneshot // Entirely fluff, a pinning love on both ends, and a happy end to boot! There is one little heartbreak moment, but it’s over in a second.

Word Count: 4.5K Words

WARNING(s): None, unless you see adorable, tooth-rotting fluff as a crime!

~

“Morning, Tammy! Lovely day, isn’t it?” you greeted your employee with a bright smile as she stumbled through the door into your bakery.

She huffed, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “Sure, but I’ve hardly been up long enough to notice it. How are you always so peppy this early?” She pointed to the mechanical clock ticking from the left wall that read ‘4:04 AM’. You glanced outside and saw hardly anyone walking through the streets, except the occasional drunkard or lonely soul.

You bashfully shrugged your shoulders, “Well, after years of suffering waking up at three in the morning, you kinda get used to the torment! But, hey, so happy we got the shop far away from the center of the city, you can actually see the sunrise from here!” you tried to help her look on the bright side as you handed her one a cup of one of your homemade coffee brews. She took a sip of the drink and let out a content sigh through her nose, a small, but thankful smile on her face.

“You know, for being a confectioner, you make some pretty solid coffee. What is that?” her eyebrows furrowed as she asked, taking another swig to figure out the secret intense flavor.

You giggled, “That’s probably the nutmeg I added. Is it good?”

“More like fantastic, (Y/N). Trying out new recipes again?” she asked over her shoulder, hanging up her light jacket that protected her from the early morning breeze while grabbing her apron. Though, it being July in Japan, she probably wouldn’t need it again for a while.

“Yeah, I think this one will really please the early risers. It gives a special sort of kick to the taste, don’t you think?” you asked while gently sliding open the glass case that held all of the beautifully decorated pastries, grabbing a pair of tongs and a small floral ceramic plate, carefully placing a fresh Apple Strudel onto the plate, and setting it down on the counter.

“Totally. Hey, can I have a--,” Tammy stopped mid-sentence as she turned around to see the delectable treat already waiting for her.

“Your breakfast awaits, m’lady~,” you slurred out in a fake British accent with a cheesy smirk and a dramatic bow.

She scoffed, “You dork. Am I really that predictable?” she asked, scarfing down the pastry in a matter of seconds as she leaned on the counter.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” you joked as she playfully shoved your plush side.

“You know,” she continued, looking down at the gooey food, “It’s a shame you aren’t more popular with the people. You have a great location, an amazing personality and work staff, if I do say so myself, and don’t even get me started on the incredible stuff you make,” she praised.

“Oh, stop it, Tammy. You’re gonna make me blush,” you flushed from her sincere words, “Besides, I’ve only been open for two weeks, it’s going to be slow for awhile. It’ll ramp up eventually.”

“Yeah, I guess, but you can’t deny that your baked goods are better than most of the others in the country! One day, when people get their heads out of their asses, these little gifts of magic are going to make you RICH!” she threw her lanky airs up into the air and around your shoulders. She spun your smaller frame in a circle while the two of you laughed.

“Ha! Yeah yeah, I know! Now, stop your messing around and come help me fill the rest of these Cream Horns.” you concluded while you pat her taller shoulder. She groaned at the request but gave you a tiny nod. Tammy turned around while tying her short, brown hair into a messy bun, readying herself for the busy day ahead. You smiled while she retreated to the kitchen but before you went to follow her you decided to look out the window again.

Shuffling your legs over to the windows, you got a clear view of the rising sun and all its glory, the hints of yellow, orange, pink, red, and even blue from the night's previous dark veil still clung onto the brightening sky. Somehow you had this weird feeling that today something life changing was going to happen. You didn’t know if you should be excited or worried, but you decided to push those thoughts aside and continue on to the back of the shop where you could already hear the clutter and clang of falling pans, no doubt Tammy’s handy work.

Oh, if you only knew how right your hunch was…

~

~ Timeskip to a little later in the day and a P.O.V change to FatGum ~

~

“How much longer do I have for patrol?” I asked myself, pulling out my phone to check the time. The time read ‘9:12 AM’ and I huffed, still a couple more hours to go. Putting the device back in my pocket with a grimace but quickly faked a smile as I continued down the bustling street. The active community, excited civilians, and eager children usually never fails to put a smile on my face, but today everything just felt like a drag. I was sluggish, unfocused, and I couldn’t understand why. I shook my head, get your head in the game, Taishiro. You don’t have time to let your mind wander on duty.

After what seemed like hours, but was more than likely only 15 minutes, I felt my stomach let out a rumbling growl which made me groan. I stopped walking on the sidewalk and took a second to consider the situation, wandering the city for a couple of hours with nothing too exciting to do really works up an appetite, and I do need to keep up my strength. I’m a hero after all, and denying myself is like ignoring my civic duty to protecting the people! At this point, I’ll take any excuse to get out of this pointless shambling. But the REAL question is, what to get? I glanced around the street and noticed a few shops further down the block that looked to be food related. I smirked, perfect.

I wove through the few people occupying the area, past a few excited teenagers who asked for autographs, and eventually made it to the shops. Looking around I saw some insurance shops, an enticing Pad Thai sit down, and few others, but the one that caught my eye was a cutesy, (F/C)-painted bakery named, “Queen of Tarts”. Chuckling at the interesting name choice, I looked inside the establishment through the plexiglass windows.

The inside carried a light, fluffy atmosphere, pastel colored walls combining with the checkered tile floor caused a small smile out of me. A few small tables with delicate iron chairs here and there, but the real prize were the copious amounts of sweets that were displayed in the glass cases. Each were different colors, sizes, but they all looked delicious. Feeling my stomach grumble, I grabbed the door handle, flung it open, and walked into the scrumptious smelling shop. After walking in, the tiny jingle of bells alerting the workers of my presence, I finally saw the most stunning sweet of all.

“Hi, welcome to the Queen of Tarts, how may I help you today?” the gorgeous woman at the counter asked but it didn’t register in my brain because I was already lost in thought. Her adorable (H/C) hair framed her face to show her soft, chubby cheeks, her eyes glistened in the sunlight, and her smile, oh, it completely lit the room with its radiance. Curves in all the right places, I felt my cheeks heat up as I let out a nervous laugh, cursing my inner self for not holding it together. Seriously, I can face the nastiest of villains but throw one pretty lady in front of me and I fall apart? Fantastic. Realizing I wasn’t answering, I quickly stepped forward and cleared my throat.

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” ‘Wow, so smooth, Taishiro,’ I criticized in my head, “I...haven’t seen this store here before, you new?” I offered a smile, which she returned tenfold, making me even more flustered.

“Yes, actually! I set up shop here only a few weeks ago, finally settling in with the hustle and bustle of city life.” she finished, leaning in closer against the marble counter with her arms crossed.

“City life? You didn’t grow up here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “Grew up on more of the countryside style of life. I love the city though, do you?”

“Yeah, you gotta get used to it when you spend all your time protecting it.” I let a hint of boasting attitude out, hoping she’d realize who I am.

“Ha, I hear ya! I do my own share of ‘protecting’ around here too. Well, if you count making goodies, that is.” she giggled, standing up and walking over to the glass containers. I deflated a little, guess that wasn’t going to work this time. I shuffled over to where she was standing and looked down at the treats they offered.

“So, kind stranger, what is it you’ll be having?” she asked after a minute of me inspecting the pastries. The problem with not being picky about what you eat, means there are tons of more options than that of others, and when all the items look equally as delectable, you get a little overwhelmed. Plus, the fact that a beautiful woman whom I would very much like to not embarrass myself in front of is waiting for my answer doesn’t help.

I gulped, “I don’t know, they all look amazing. What’s your favorite?” I asked, hoping to know a little more about her.

“Oh, gosh, let me think…” she pouted, resting her head on the palm of her hand while looking deep in thought at the treats. The adorable crease of her eyebrows scrunched together, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration, her lovely, curvalicious body...that’s it, I’m so screwed.

“I think I’d go for the Chocolate Cream Puff,” her answer drawing both me and her out of our distracted states, “My dad taught me years ago this amazing chocolate ganache recipe and I drizzle that all over the tops of homemade pastry puffs and the whipped filling, ugh! It’s to die for, seriously!” she finished, a sparkle in her (E/C) eyes that fueled the fire in my gut. She spoke about food just as passionately as I did! She’s perfect.

Without thinking, I quickly said, “I’ll take ten.”

~

~ (Y/N) P.O.V ~

~

“Alright, there you go, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs. Have a wonderful day, sir!” I said with a bright smile.

“Please, call me Taishiro. And you are..?” he asked.

I flushed, I’m such a klutz, “(Y/N), pleasure to meet you, Taishiro. I hope you enjoy them and come back to visit m...us! Come visit us again!” I hastily fixed my wording.

As he smiled and waved goodbye, I rolled the tension out of my shoulders and breathed a sigh of relief. It’s okay, he was nice...and cute...and...really handsome. Wow, I am I sweating?

“HOLY CRAP!” I jumped as I heard Tammy squeal out behind me, I spun around to look at her standing in the doorway to the back, watching the leaving guest with an awestruck face.

“What?! Where’s the fire?!” I shouted running up to her, grabbing the edge of my apron.

“(Y/N), look at me,” she grabbed my shoulders and forced me to stare into her hazel eyes, “Do you know who that was?”

I shrugged my shoulders as best as I could under her vice grip, “A customer, right?”

“A custom--ugh, curse you for not keeping up with the media,” she yelled while flinging her arms to the sky in exasperation before shoving them back on my shoulders, “(Y/N), that wasn’t just any old customer! That was the FatGum!”

I blinked, “Uh, who?”

“Aarrghh! The rank 58 Pro Hero in Japan! What did you say to him?!” I paled as her words sunk in. My legs felt like jelly and I wanted to lie on the floor and die of embarrassment as she raved on about my ignorance.

‘Oh, so I’ve fallen for a Pro Hero. Awesome.’

~

~ Timeskip to a few weeks later, same P.O.V ~

~

Who knew meeting a Pro Hero and potentially having a crush on him could be so amazing? After Taishiro, who is apparently a hero named FatGum, left the store, he personally posted on his main platform of media about the shop and how incredible the desserts were! Of course, to get a compliment from a hero who's Quirk is literally based around food, who’s eaten hundreds of thousands of different dishes, for him to specifically point out your’s brought the media swarming. Business went from nearly dead to tons of people coming in at all open hours! It was fantastic, and the handsome gentleman kept his promise of continually coming in and buying heaps of pastries.

You sighed, leaning against the marble counter after helping a few beautiful ladies buy some tarts, watching their desirable, attractive forms leave the shop and walk past the window. Looking around the busy lounge area, all of the customers were stunning, unique, and most of all thin. You glanced down at yourself, insecurities filling your mind about your appearance and unsurprisingly flickering back to the man plaguing your thoughts. You poked the chub, would he? No. He probably already has someone and even if he didn’t, why would he go for you? You’re a no one to him, someone who just sells him baked goods to fuel his Quirk, nothing more.

“Hey, boss man, what’s up?” Asher, a friend and employee of yours, asked while spinning you away from the counter to face him, drawing Tammy’s attention from her place on the stool behind the counter.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Asher. Just distracted is all, I’m fine!” you sighed and faked a smile.

Asher pulled a skeptical look and without looking at Tammy he said, “She’s thinking about him again, isn’t she?”

Tammy, like it was her sixth sense to pick up on gossip, flung herself to Asher’s side with the same skeptical look, “Yep, it’s so obvious.”

“I-It is?!” you yelped, pulling your hands up to your cheeks to hide your growing blush.

“What are we gonna do about them, Tam?” he asked, still not looking at her but instead grabbing your chin and tiling your head from side to side to inspect you.

 “I don’t know what else to do, Ash. He so likes her back but both are too scared to make the first move. Truly a dilemma.” she said, twirling a lock of your (H/C) hair.

“Wait, he does?! How do you know?” you pleaded but they weren’t paying any attention to you anymore, making you puff out your pudgy cheeks in frustration. Opting to ignore them, you listened to the aimless chatter of the seating area. The ambiance of the confectionery made you smile because it was exactly how you’d pictured it as a little girl, the sweet smells, the laughter, it finally felt like home after all these years in the making. All your hard work was paying off in the end. Suddenly, the ringing bells of the door opening drew your attention. Glancing back, you caught a glimpse of a familiar yellow and orange clad figure whose head almost touched the ceiling. You gasped and shoved your friends off of you and to the backroom, spun around, and greeted your favorite customer with a bashful smile.

“Taishiro! How lovely to see you again,” but you quickly noticed it wasn’t just him. Two teenage boys, one with striking red hair and a warm smile and the other trembling and hiding inside of his cloak’s hood, were by FatGum’s side, which made you ask, “And who is this with you?”

“(Y/N), this is Eijirou Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki, they are training under me for hero internships. I wanted to bring them here so they could try your wicked sweets!” he finished, making you blush even harder.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you, FatGum! It’s a pleasure to meet you, boys.” you finished, holding out your hand for them to shake.

The red-headed boy, Kirishima, shook your hand with a gentle, but strong grip, “Same here! I’ve heard all about this place because of the news, sorry I couldn’t come sooner!”

“Oh, that’s alright, and it’s wonderful to meet you, Tamaki.” you held out your hand, but all you got from him was a curt nod as he shrunk further into his suit.

“You’ll have to forgive, Amajiki, he’s sort of shy.” Taishiro chuckled, rubbing his hand behind his head.

You pulled your hand back with an understanding smile, “No problem, I totally get social anxiety. Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”

“No way,” you suddenly heard Tammy mumble behind you, no doubt to Asher, “He brought his kids to see her. Did not expect that. I respect the flex.”

“Isn’t that a little far for first base material?” Asher whispered back to her. You proceeded to shoot them a terrifying glare and subtly kick both of them in the shins, a symbol for them to scram. They gulped and hobbled off to the back to avoid your wrath while you huffed and whipped your hair out of your face with a smile.

“Anyways, since the three of you are here, what would you boys like? It’s on the house!” you confidently boasted.

Taishiro gasped, “(Y/N), no. I can’t do that to you, we’ll pay.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Taishiro. You are by far the most paying of customers and since you’re my favorite of all I want to give this to you. Call it, uh, thank you present for all the publicity you’ve given my store! I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” you grinned.

He sighed and, though it could have been your imagination, blushed a little, “At least let me pay for my portion. I get considerably more than them.”

“Nope, it’s already been decided! Kirishima, what would you like?” you changed the topic before Taishiro could argue with you again. He rolled his eyes, clear girl.

“Hmm,” Kirishima thought, “Do you have anything with strawberries?”

“I got just the thing for you. How about a Strawberry Turnover?” you directed him over to the case with the pastry. He took one glance and excitedly nodded his head and you smiled, grabbed the sweet with a clean pair of tongs, placed it on a napkin, and handed it over to the young man. He grinned and shoveled the pastry into his mouth without hesitation. 

“Thanks so much, Miss (Y/N)! It’s delicious!” he praised through a mouth full of food, making you giggle at his silliness. Walking back over to the registrar, you saw Tamaki looking at you. When he was caught, he gasped, quickly spun around, and hid himself away from you by pressing into FatGum’s body.

“What would you like, Tamaki?” you patiently asked. Taishiro looked at you with doubt and started saying something but you quickly shushed him and continued to wait for the teen’s answer.

Knowing that you weren’t going to give up, Tamaki quietly mumbled out, “D-D-Do you...have anything with...b-black raspberry? I-If you don’t that’s fine too, I-I didn’t mean to sound too rude or--”

“I believe I do,” you quickly interrupted so he didn’t go into a spiraling haze of self doubt, “Would a Black Raspberry Lychee Cake suffice, Tamaki?”

“Y-Yes, Miss (Y/N)...” he sighed in relief, glancing at you with tears in his eyes. You gave him a reassuring smile and grabbed the treat for him, handing it to FatGum so he could hold on to it for Tamaki.

“And now, what’ll you have, kind stranger?” you grinned as he chuckled.

“I’ll take my usual then, 10 Chocolate Cream Puffs, please.” he concluded while giving a sweet grin.

You snarked, “You always get the same thing every time, Taishiro. Don’t you wanna try anything else? I promise they’re poisoned.” you smirked.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Are you sure about that?” he joked.

“Taishiro! What kind of business would I be if I poisoned all my guests?” you laughed at him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try something different, ma’am. Do you have anything with pineapple?” he asked with curiosity.

“You betcha. How does a Pineapple Poke Cake sound, sir?” you interrogated. You saw stars glisten in his eyes and you giggled at his excitement.

“How many?” you joked.

“I’ll take 12!” he concluded, blissfully staring off into space.

You packaged up his request in a cutesy (F/C) box with your confectionery’s logo and, biting your lip in apprehension, decided that if he wasn’t going to make his move then you would. You quickly wrote down your phone number on top of the box in Sharpie and signed off your name with a small black heart. As you finished the lettering you stared at the box and thought about your previous insecurities. There was still time, still time to take out the pastries, put them in a new box, and forget the whole number thing ever happened.

“Hey, don’t you dare take out those treats and put them in a new box, you hear me, girl?!” you heard a tiny male voice whisper above you. Startled, you looked up to see Tammy and Asher peeking through the window that let the customers see into the back of the bakery to watch the baking happen. You glared at the two, so they had been watching you try and confess your feelings to the fluffy hero in a discreet way.

“What am I supposed to do? What if he doesn’t like me and all the signs I’ve been getting from him are me making up a love story that is never going to happen between us?! What if by doing this I ruin our relationship and he makes sure the business tanks?! This is my life's work and I’m putting it on the line for a stupid chance at love!” you whisper yelled at them, the familiar feeling of fear and pain coursing through your system from previous failed love confessions.

“You really think a sweet man like that is going to make your life’s dream completely fall to pieces?” Tammy questioned and you exhaled, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Then go out there and get yo mans! You have to at least try and snatch that, I have to see my OTP become canon!” she sent a determined glare at you, grabbed the box, shoved it in your hands, spun you around, and pushed your forward. You stumbled and almost tripped onto the floor but caught yourself on the marble counter. Standing up tall, you took a deep breath in and urged your legs to move forward. Getting to the registrar, you smiled at Taishiro and the boys and handed over the box to FatGum after giving a subtle cough.

“Thank you for everything, Taishiro, you’ve helped me in ways you could never imagine. Now, I hope you boys come back sometime!” you spoke to the teens, Kirishima grinning at you with his shark-like teeth.

“Will do, Miss (Y/N)! I couldn’t stay away from this place even if I tried, your desserts are the BOMB!” he laughed, punching his fists together in excitement.

“...Thank you, Miss (Y/N).” Tamaki shyly whispered, giving you half a grin before cowering away once more.

“Don’t mention it, loves! Now, Taishiro, remember that I said this is on the--whoa! Are you okay?” you asked the man. His face was almost as red as his student’s hair, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared at the top of the box, where your number neatly sat. You gulped, maybe it was the wrong decision after all.

Waving a nervous hand in front of Taishiro’s face, it seemed to break him from his spellbound state as he glanced at your eyes, “Are you...feeling okay, Taishiro?”

He looked at you with a shaken gaze as he laughed off his nerves while saying, “Y-Yeah! Just, um...yeah...you...let’s go, boys! Gotta get back to the patrol! Bye, (Y/N)!” he said while ushering the confused boys away from the counter and to the door. You felt your heart shatter into dozens of pieces as you turned your head down to conceal your sorrowed expression from the rest of the lounge area. You felt your eyes wet with tears but you used the sleeve of your white button down you dry them, you have to stay strong. At least you got it off your chest. Sniffling, you turned your head back up only to see FatGum’s face, only he was suddenly a lot more chiseled in the face and body and wow, did it just get hot in here?

“I forgot one thing.” he said with a flustered smile. You, less heartbroken then before just more confused, shrugged your shoulders in question. He then grasped your shoulders, tilted his head to the side, and planted a loving and firm kiss on your right cheek. You felt your face melt into a puddle of red as he held the kiss for a few seconds longer than anticipated but eventually released your cheek, staring back at you with the same expression as you.

“Did you really think I was going to leave without paying you back, cream puff?” he chuckled with a grin.

“I-I, um…” no longer sorrowed, your brain couldn’t catch up with the fact that he most definitely liked you back.

“Heh, you’re cute when you’re flustered for me. I’ll text you later, okay? Keep on the look out for me!” he said, backing up from the counter, only to grow immensely in size as he returned to the state you had met the hero in. He waved goodbye as he walked back to Kirishima who was practically bouncing off the walls in his excitement.

“Congratulations on the relationship, Miss (Y/N)!” the teen sang out as the three of them left the store to patrol the streets for their hero duties once again.

The entire restaurant was silent as they watched your chubby form turn into a puddle of emotions and ditzy giggles, the only thing that was heard was a loud, “YES! IT’S CANON, BABY!”

~

~

~ The End ~

[skyemak]

Cater Gets a New Do

Cater stood under one of the various trees of the courtyard. His hands were deep in his pockets as he swayed heel to toe. As a cool breeze brushed his skin, the leaves above him rustled slightly. Again, Cater glanced around the courtyard, and looked behind the tree. With a sigh, he pulled out his phone from his pocket, both to check the time and to check for any Magicam notifications. Recently there hasn’t been much going on at Night Raven College nor at his dorm. It was about two days since his last post, which was unlike him. However, he felt a sort of creative block recently, and no matter how many selfies or pics he took, he didn’t feel they were up-to-par to post to Magicam.

“Oh, Cater-senpai, what’re you doing here?”

Cater glanced up from his phone, a relaxed smile appeared on his face when he saw his familiar underclassman. “Hiya Ace-chan!” He raised his hand by his face, making a peace sign. “Yuu asked me to meet her here after school—said she wanted to ask me something. I wonder what it is~”

“Heh, I think that’s obvious.” A smug smile grew on Ace’s face.

“Hm?” Cater dropped his hand to rest on his side. “What’re you thinking, Ace-chan?”

“Nothing~ Just get ready for a new confess tag to post on Magicam,” Ace chuckled to himself, strolling away.

Cater blinked and looked down at his phone screen before quickly shutting off the screen. He grabbed a piece of his hair with his thumb and finger as he stored his phone back into his pocket. “Heh, as if.” But his mind began to wonder.

This school is surrounded by boys, so it’d be no surprise if Yuu-chan got a crush on someone.

She hangs out with the Adeuce combo a lot, so I’d first guess she’d like one of them.

Ah, but they’re not the brightest crayons in the crayon box.

As a human, Yuu-chan would probably prefer another human so they’d be more compatible. At NRC, that would leave Heartslyabyul, Pomefiore, and Scarabia.

Pomefiore is kinda intense in their own way.

I heard a lot happen as Scarabia…

Well, a lot happened since Riddle’s overblot too…

Now that I think about it, Yuu-chan always smiles in the morning when she sees me. It probably isn’t much though since I’m always acting peppy anyway.

Cater used his index finger to lightly twirl his hair in thought.

…But if she did confess… What would I say?

His ears tinted pink as he glanced down. The beat of his heart quickened slightly.

Well, I admit Yuu-chan is a little cute.

Another breeze flew by, rustling the leaves of the tree he stood by. Cater glanced up the wood. Soon the season will be changing, which will probably give Cater better potential selfies for his Magicam account.

“Senpai!” a voice yelled in the distance. Cater immediately turned his head toward its source and saw Yuu running toward him. “I’m sorry for making you wait!” she exclaimed. Yuu approached, stopping a few feet in front of him, out of breath.  She slouched over with her hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. “Trein-sensei made me stay late since I did so bad on his last test…” she whined. Cater chuckled, “Heheh, Trein-sensei can be quite strict. I know all too well.”

After a few moments to balance her breathing, Yuu heaved a sigh and stood straight up. She looked directly toward Cater with a determined look in her eyes. “Anyway, senpai!” Cater flinched. Abruptly, he felt his chest tighten. He glanced away from her. “Y-Yeah?”

Yuu grabbed Cater’s hand and held it gently in both of hers. “Senpai, I need you!” she exclaimed.

“Huh?!” Cater erupted. “M-Me?” He couldn’t help but notice how soft her hands felt against his.

Is…Is she really gonna confess?!

Okay, she is more than a little cute now that I see her more closely.

We could also post couple-y photos on Magicam.

I can see the comments now. “OMG so cute!” “I’m so jelly I wanna boyfriend/girlfriend~” “You two look so cute together!”

Wait, I need to consider her feelings too!

Ah, but she would probably expect me to wanna take selfies together.

Wait again, what about when she goes back to her world?!

“Senpai?” Yuu asked innocently, still holding his hand. He snapped back to reality.

“Ahhhh! Fine! Okay! I’ll do it!”

“Yay! Uh, Senpai, why is your face red? Are you feeling okay?”

Cater covered his face with one hand, looking toward the ground. The sound of his heartbeat rang through his ears. “I-I’m fine…” he muttered.

“Great!” Yuu smiled. “Can we do it at your room then?”

“…Huh?”

“I think I could also use two of your clones for it.”

“What?!”

-----

Yuu opened a tote bag swung over her shoulder and began to set out various hairbrushes, a curling iron, flat iron, and other hair products on Cater’s dresser. Cater stood by, watching her bring the products out. He timidly put his hands together and covered his nose and mouth with them.

She… She just wants to practice different hair styles on me…

“Cater-senpai, would you sit here?” Yuu beckoned. Cater twitched a bit in surprise. He looked over and saw her gesture toward a chair, holding a salon cape. “Y-Yeah.” He stepped forward, plopping down on the chair.

“By the way, Yuu-chan.”

“Hm?” she asked, pulling the cape around him to clip.

“Why me…exactly?”

“Well,” she began, taking the clip out from Cater’s hair. “You have nice length hair and it’s easier to try different styles with your hair. Plus, your unique magic makes it so I can practice multiple hairstyles at once! Oh, I don’t need them yet though.”

“Is that so…” he trailed off. Yuu gently ran her fingertips through Cater’s hair. Each time the brushed his hair with her fingers, it felt soothing to say the least. She stepped toward the dresser to grab a brush. Without realizing, Cater let his lids fall as she brushed through his orange strands of hair. Her movements were so gentle and tender, any tension he felt in his body just oozed away.

“I’ll just start with something simple,” Yuu said, setting down the brush and grabbing a fine-toothed comb.

“Okay,” Cater briefly replied.

She used the end of the comb to separate the top section of his hair to carefully tie into a rubber band. Once in, she tugged a bit at the hair in the rubber band at the top of his scalp to add some volume. When satisfied, Yuu again used the end of the comb to section out a piece of his hair at the side of his head.

“Yuu-chan,” Cater spoke up as she began to braid the section of hair. His eyelids still shut.

“Oh, does something hurt or feel uncomfortable?”

“No,” he quicky said, “I was just wondering why you’re practicing hairstyles on me.”

“Yeah, hold on, lemme finish this braid first, Senpai... There, that looks good,” Yuu said, tying the braid into another rubber band. “Well, there’s a couple of hairstyles I wanna try for myself but I wanted to practice them. But there’s a few I wanted to try but hmmm… How should I put it?” She took her comb to section out another piece of hair at the other side of his head. She took that piece and combed it to looked less disorderly. “It’s hard to figure out how to do hairstyles that have the focal points on the back, or that are consistent throughout. I don’t have anyone to kinda help me with that, but I thought if I could try it on your hair, I can get a good idea how to do it for myself, I guess? Plus, I can practice more than one at a time because of your unique magic! So, it’s hitting two birds with one stone, you could say.”

Yuu took the new section of hair and braided it as well. “Ohh,” Cater said.

“Whatever is done to your clones doesn’t reflect your appearance when they disappear, right?” She rubber banded the section of hair.

“No, not really.”

“Good…” Yuu smiled to herself, combining the two braids to the first piece of hair she rubber banded earlier. “Ah, this one is looking cute.” She grabbed a pink ribbon to tie a bow around the three pieces of hair. “I thought it was gonna be easy.”

“What’s it look like?” Cater asked.

“I’ll take a pic,” Yuu said, taking out her cellphone Crowley had given to her not too long ago. She snapped a quick note before facing the screen toward him. “See?”

“Oh, that’s a cute look! It’d probably would look really cute on you, Yuu-chan!”

There was a brief pause. Cater felt his cheeks redden. He just said what popped into his head without realizing it. The man was grateful Yuu couldn’t see his face. Yuu pulled her phone away from view, and quietly replied, “You think so…?”

There was another short pause before Cater spoke up, “So, you said you needed two clones to practice?”

“Uh, yeah,” Yuu answered abruptly. It involves using a curling iron, so I wanted a backup for when I mess up.”

“Okay, Split Card!”

-----

“Hey, Yuu-chan,” said Cater copy #1, “you did good makin’ these wavy curls.” He shook his head joyfully, singing out the curled waves in his hair. “They’re so bouncy!”

“Oh yeah,” said Cater copy #2, “I have this nice braid crown going over my head.” He gestured toward the top of his head. As he said, a braid wrapped around his head, and a few strands of hair dangled from the crown. “Truly I am King Cater!”

“Which one is Yuu-chan working on now? Number 4?” Cater copy #3 said, rocking an orange mohawk.

“A-Are you sure you want me to shave it?” Yuu asked timidly to copy #4, hesitantly holding a pair of clippers.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead!” Cater copy #4 delightfully replied. “Doesn’t affect the original! Plus, it’ll make for fun selfies to put on Magicam.” The other copies shouted, “Yeah!” in unison.

“I don’t need my followers to think I changed my hairstyle 5 times in one day!” the original Cater spoke up.

Yuu had asked Cater to make two clones of himself originally, to have one as a backup, but found she only needed one try to figure out how to curl waves with a curling iron. Then she asked for another two to try the braid crown in case she needed a backup, and then it just snowballed from there.

“Cater, you want me to try shaving the side of your head?”

“Yeah!” Copy #4 said, “I always wondered about those asymmetrical cuts!”

Yuu glanced over at the original Cater. He just shook his hand as if to say, “Go ahead.” Like copy #4 said, it doesn’t affect the original.

“Okay, here I go…” Still unsure, Yuu turned on the clippers, causing a faint buzzing sound.

-----

Hard thumps could be made out in the Heartslabyul dorm hallway carpet. The dorm leader was gritting his teeth, his face red in anger. “What need would he have to make his clones and make such a racket?!”

“Calm down, Riddle,” Trey kept pace beside Riddle. Trey’s efforts were only brushed aside as Riddle trampled on, beelining to Cater’s room. As they neared, loud sounds of giggling and laughter echoed behind the door. Ready to cast his unique magic the second he opened the door; Riddle grabbed the doorknob with great vigor. The next second, Trey’s arm swooped in front of Riddle’s body.

“Riddle,” he said. His voice was gentle, but stern. “Let’s access what’s going on before doing anything drastic, okay?” Trey smiled reassuringly. Riddle took a deep breath in before heaving a heavy sigh. The red faded from his face. “Fine,” the dorm leader said, almost with a pout.

“Uh, Cater-senpai, er, senpais?” a female voice said behind the door.

“Don’t worry!” said Cater.

“We’re just having fun, Yuu-chan!” said what again, sounded like Cater.

“Yuu?!” Trey stated. His eyes opened wide in shock.

“That’s it!” Riddle forced the door open, stomping inside before yelling. “Cater!”

“Yuu, are you--?” Trey began but cut himself off.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Yuu awkwardly waved at the two. Not in any danger, but a bit tense, Yuu was sitting in the chair the previous Caters sat in before. Multiple Cater clones were pointing at her hair or held a piece of it in her hand.

“A fishtail braid would look great in her hair!” said the Cater with a braided crown.

“You know our sisters said we sucked at it growing up!” said the Cater with wavy curls.

“Well practice makes perfect right?!” said the braided crown Cater.

“I think a French braid is a classic. Plus, we were usually good at them growing up,” said Cater with a side-shave. His arms were crossed as he stared at Yuu’s hair in thought.

“Uh, Caters, maybe let’s not tug at Yuu-chan’s hair,” said the original Cater, his hair still with the braided back style.

“Don’t be so stingy,” braided crown Cater said.

“Yeah! I know you’d wanna do a fun hairdo with her too, since you could take a couple-like selfie with it!” said cater with the side-shave.

“Wha--? Why would I?!” the original Cater argued, but pink flushed his cheeks. He dared not look at Yuu’s face. What sort of expression she was making, he had no idea.

“’Cause we’re all thinking the same thing?” said Cater with the braided crown. “We haven’t posted anything on Magicam in a while anyway.”

“Uh, I kinda have some other homework I needed to get to tonight…” Yuu mumbled, looking as lost.

“I think we should try something new entirely!” slipped in Cater with a mohawk. In his hand were the clippers from before. With a smug look on his face, he turned them on. Yuu yelped.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

Riddle’s signature collars appeared on all the Caters’ necks. Then, all the clones poofed out of existence, leaving just the original Cater, still in the collar.

“Oh, hi there, uh, dorm leader…” Cater mumbled, trying to avoid any eye contact.

“What’s going on in here?” Trey asked.

“Hair styling practice?” Cater hesitantly answered.

Riddle sighed. He crossed his arms and stood with authoritatively. “Cater, you’re making too much noise. Also, it’s past the allowed time for visitors. I won’t punish you for breaking the rules this time but be aware. I won’t be as forgiving next time.”  

“Y-Yeah, I’ll be sure not to let this happen again,” Cater said, bowing toward Riddle.

“Glad it wasn’t something major…” Trey remarked. His forearm leaned against the side of the doorway. “Alright, Riddle, let’s let them clean up.”

“Hmph.” Riddle turned on his heel and walked back into the hallway, Trey following closely behind.

“Uh, hey!” Cater said, running toward the door. “What about this collar?” A few seconds later, the collar vanished from his neck. He heaved a sigh and walked back into his dorm. Yuu was already packing up her supplies, and just about finished.

“Um,” Cater spoke up, gaining her attention. Yuu looked toward him, zipping her bag up and swinging the handle over her shoulder. He put his hand at the back of his head. For a few moments he stared at the floor, shifting his feet, before looking back toward the girl. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it’d get so…hectic.” He chuckled. Yuu looked toward her back, fiddling with the strap of it between her fingers. Cater took notice, lowering his hand from his head, staring at her expectantly. When Yuu finally spoke up, her eyes were still at her fingers. “We can…still take a selfie together…if you want.”

Cater jolted. “A selfie…?”

His chest tightened when she nodded timidly, a soft pink in her cheeks.

-----

Cater sat on the bench at the foot of his bed. His leg was bent with his foot on the bench, and his cheek squished as he rested his face on his knee. He looked idly down at his phone screen, swiping through his camera roll. He selected one of the selfies with Yuu recently, and chose to open it in an editing app. The default recommended filter was to add hearts around their faces.

He turned off the screen, setting his phone screen down on the bench. “I don’t really wanna post any of the selfies…” he mumbled. After a few moments, he vocalized a heavy sigh. Cater raised his other foot to the bench, then used his legs to launch himself backwards to fall into his bed.

“I liked the idea of a French braid on her…”

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Coffee’s for Royals

*Zuko (ATLA) x Reader

*Summary: Opening shift is usually terrible, but a certain prince coming in every morning makes things more tolerable.

*Warnings: Swearing. Let me know if I need to tag anything else.

*A/N: Coffee Shop AU starring a certain angsty prince. My childhood crushes on both Zuko and Mai are back in full force.

My Ko-Fi

**********

You hated taking the opening shift. You were the closing type, not the wake up at 3:30 in the morning so you could open up the store with your overly peppy coworker type. Normally your manager was amazing and let you work mostly closing shifts, but there were the rare occasions the opening shift was short staffed, and your manager would send you a text. Now, you were never one to turn down an extra shift (you definitely needed the money), but you didn’t enjoy taking the opening shift.

When you walked into the coffee shop at four in the morning, you were already fighting the urge to fight somebody. “Why the hell didn’t the closers clean up last night?” You asked as you pulled on your apron.

“I don’t know, aren’t you a closer?” Suki asked, unimpressed. She was a regular opener, having the kind of discipline to regularly wake up at hellish hours. You loved working opening shifts with her - she was a complete badass and one of your closest work friends - but she hated your habits as a closer.

“Yeah, but when I’m a closer, cleaning is a problem for the openers,” you groaned. She threw her hat at you. “Hey!” 

“And that’s why I hate you. Give me back my hat,” she said, walking towards you with some cleaning supplies.

“No, you threw it at me, now it’s mine,” you joked, taking a rag from her.

“So what the hell are you going to do with two hats? Hurry up before shift lead comes in.” You tossed Suki her hat, already feeling better about taking the shift. Sure, you were tired as hell, but you enjoyed the banter you always had going with her. “Alright, what coffee do you want?”

While Suki made the two of you some drinks, you got to cleaning what closing shift didn’t. Most of the machines were cleaned on the surface level, but you had to run some deep cleaning cycles on them. Once that was done, the two of you started brewing the base coffees, needing at least something to serve the customers that would come in during the first few hours of the shop being open. Before you knew it, it was officially time to open. Suki sent you to unlock the door, and then the two of you were just hanging out, filling the occasional order.

Once it started nearing six, you were already wondering when you could take your break. Sure, you hadn’t seen that many customers yet, but you just wanted to sit behind the counter and drink the second coffee Suki had made for you. You stood behind the register, kind of just vibing to the music Suki was playing over the speakers. A guy wearing a hoodie came in, hood pulled up to mostly cover his face, so you went to pretend like you were fully present at work. “Hi, good morning,” you said, putting on your customer service smile. “What can I get for you today?”

“Yeah, hi, uh, can I get a grande white chocolate mocha?” He asked. You knew that voice from somewhere. You didn’t know how, but you recognized that voice. You looked up, scanning his face to see if you actually recognized him or just thought you did. When your gaze landed on the scar, it immediately hit you.

“A-are you Prince Zuko?” you asked, taking the grande cup from the stack.

The guy’s hand immediately went to rub the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “Yeah, I am.”

“Cool. So is that hot or iced?” You asked, not knowing what else to do. It wasn’t like your manager trained you on what to do when royalty randomly walked into your store.

“Hot, please,” he said with a small smile. You typed the order into the computer, waiting a second for the cup’s label to print.

“Alrighty, can I get you anything else?”

“No thanks.” You nodded, finishing up the order. He handed over his card, and went to wait by the order counter to wait for his drink once you handed it back. There was no one else in the shop, and Suki was already working on his drink. You just stood behind the register, not knowing if you should make small talk with him or just try to act like you had things to do. His drink didn’t take long, and when Suki went to put it on the counter, she just lit up when she saw who was there.

“Oh, hey, Zuko!” Suki called as she worked on his drink. “You know, you should try something else every once in a while. I’m starting to get bored just making this one drink.”

“Nah, I like my white chocolate mocha,” he joked back. The two of them kept talking as Suki went about making his drink, and you just stood there, drinking the coffee Suki made for you. You couldn’t believe the way Suki was just immediately joking like that. He must have been a regular, but even with your regulars, you didn’t joke like that. It seemed like they were actual friends, but then how the hell did Suki know the Prince outside of just being his regular barista? Once Suki handed him his drink, they stayed chatting for a few minutes before he finally left.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you turned to Suki. “How the hell do you know the Prince?”

“Oh, Zuko? Yeah, he’s one of Sokka’s friends,” Suki explained. “You know, you’d see him more often if you took more opening shifts. He gets here before the rushes so he doesn’t get recognized.”

“Who said I wanted to see him more often? I just think it’s wild you’re friends with the Prince,” you explained, taking another drink to hide your little embarrassed smile. You hated being put on the spot like that, especially if Suki was implying what it seemed like she was.

“Anyways, he’s single now, not that you’d be super interested in that,” Suki continued to push. You choked on your drink, making Suki laugh. In the nicest way possible, you were going to kill that girl.

**********

It was a complete coincidence you happened to take a couple opening shifts over the next couple weeks. It wasn’t too often, but it was still more than you were usually willing to take. “You know, it’s weird that you’re taking these shifts now,” Suki commented as you cleaned.

“Shut up, I just need the extra money,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s not my fault no one else wants to work opening.”

“Okay, sure. Then why’d you look so bummed out when Zuko didn’t show last shift?” Suki teased. You shot her a deadly glare, which she answered with a self-satisfied grin. “He was sick, just in case you were lying about not caring.”

“Anyways,” you tried to change the topic, saying the one word louder than necessary. “Can I choose music today?”

“Yeah, dude. All you had to do was connect your phone first.” You finished cleaning the machine you were working on, already heading over to the door to open for the day. “Hey, what coffee do you want?”

“(Coffee drink of choice),” you said, unlocking the door and flipping the sign.

“No, something easier,” Suki joked, going to make your drink anyways.

“Thank you!”

There was a little rush of customers for about twenty minutes after opening, the super early commuters trying to get their caffeine fix. After that, you and Suki were able to just hang out, adjusting your playlist to whatever vibe you wanted in the shop, and tend to the occasional customer. You were kind of starting to get used to the vibe of opening shift, and you had to admit it was kind of nice. Not enough for you to want to become a regular opener, but it was still nice.

Almost on cue, Zuko walked in as soon as six rolled around. You perked up when you saw him in his red hoodie, hood up but now with a black baseball cap on his head. “Hi! Good morning, Prince. Grande white chocolate mocha?” You asked as he walked up to the counter.

“Oh, uh, hey. Yeah, how’d you know?” He asked as you put in the order.

“Sorry, I just heard Suki say you always order the same thing, so I kinda figured it was your regular,” you explained with a small smile. You could see the flush on his face at your answer, so you immediately went to focus on getting the cup.

“Yeah, it is. She’s always trying to get me to try something else.” Zuko laughed. “I just can’t handle the pure coffee flavor, so, mocha.”

“I get it, I didn’t start drinking actual coffee until I started working here. Alright, so that’ll be $4.45.” Zuko handed his card over, but instead of going over to the pick up counter to talk to Suki like he did last time, he just stayed near the order counter once you handed him his card.

“So, uh, you don’t normally work opening, do you?” Zuko asked, not meeting your gaze directly. You were a little taken aback, not expecting him to actually try to hold a conversation with you. You handed Suki his cup, and she just grinned as she looked between the two of you. “I come in like every morning and I haven’t really seen you here before, you know?”

“No, I work closing but I’ve been picking up a few shifts every now and then,” you explained. You didn’t know why you were giving him so much information, but it wasn’t like you could stop it. Zuko nodded, still looking around the shop like there was something that could take his attention away. You waited a second to see if he was going to go talk to Suki, but when he didn’t, you figured you’d keep the conversation going. “So, you’re friends with Suki’s boyfriend?”

Zuko looked at you, once again a little surprised at your question. “Yeah, we met a few years ago when we were both travelling around. How’d you…?”

“Sorry, I asked Suki how she knew you cuz you guys seemed like kinda close. I hope I wasn’t overstepping my bounds, Prince,” you apologized, looking down at your register. You could feel your face heating up, realizing admitting to the Prince that you were asking his friend for information about him might come off as very weird.

“Don’t worry about it! Oh, uh, by the way, you can just call me Zuko,” he told you. You looked up, catching a glimpse of the shy smile he had. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh! I’m (y/n)! Nice to, like, officially meet you.” The two of you just stood there, awkward little smiles on your faces until Suki decided to ruin it.

“Hey, Prince Moody! Stop flirting with my coworker and come get your coffee!” Zuko looked to you, mortified at what Suki just said. He sputtered out an apology before going to the pick up counter. You tried to ignore the rapid-fire whispering from the other side of the counter, instead focusing on what drink you were going to ask Suki to make for you next. The whispering lasted for the longest minutes of your life, but finally Zuko made his way to the front door, turning for a second to wave goodbye to you before leaving. Your heart raced at the small gesture, but the second you looked at Suki, your mood was ruined. She was leaning against the counter, resting her chin on her fist. “So, when’s the wedding? You could do spring, but I’m thinking you’re more of a fall person.”

“We were literally just talking! What, I can’t speak to my customers now?”

“Oh, so he’s your customer now?” Suki teased.

“I hate you.”

“You know you don’t.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Can you make me an iced coffee next?” Suki gave an exaggerated gasp, holding her hand up to her chest.

“Do you only like me because I can make coffee?” Suki questioned, pouting.

“Well, I can make coffee too, I’m just too lazy to make it myself right now,” you said with a sweet smile.

“You gremlin.” Suki rolled her eyes, grabbing a cup for your drink anyways. “You’re lucky you’re my friend.”

“I’m honored.”

**********

When one of the openers gave their two weeks, your manager asked if you wanted to switch over and become an official opener. Before then, you’d already been working a few opening shifts a week, only taking closing about two nights a week. You agreed to the switch, knowing you were already heading that way anyways. Suki quickly jumped in with the teasing when you told her, but you just rolled your eyes and laughed. So what if you enjoyed seeing Zuko in the mornings, just talking about whatever while Suki made his drinks?

When Zuko walked in during your first shift as an official opener, he could tell something was different. As he walked up to the counter, you already put in his order. He immediately pulled out his card and handed it to you. “You seem happy. What’s going on?”

“What, I can’t just be happy?” Zuko gave you a look that let you know he wasn’t awake enough to deal with this. “Alright. So, you’re looking at the newest opener!”

“You switched over from closing?” Zuko asked, eyes widening as you handed his card back to him.

“It wasn’t like she was actually working closing shifts anyways,” Suki chimed in, grabbing the cup you set aside for Zuko’s drink. “She’s been mainly opening because of her favorite customer.”

“Would you please just go make coffee?” you whined. You were avoiding looking at Zuko, but you could picture the blush no doubt on his face.

“Yes, ma’am!” Suki said, giving you a salute before heading to the coffee bar.

“I would say sorry about her, but you’ve been her friend for longer,” you said, finally looking at Zuko. There was the faintest blush tinting his cheeks, a lot less than what you expected. “But, yeah, I’ve been opening a lot more lately so the manager asked if I just wanted to switch over officially.”

“Well, I mean, that’s good if you’re enjoying opening shift anyways,” Zuko said. He paused, looking around the shop before turning back to you. “I’m kinda glad. I like seeing you in the mornings.”

And now it was your turn to blush. You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked down at your register as you tried to will away your burning cheeks. It took a few seconds for you to look up to him with a shy smile. “Thanks, I like seeing you in the mornings too. You know, Suki wasn’t exactly lying when she was talking about my favorite customer.”

“Your Royal Asshole, your boring coffee is ready!” Suki called out, voice clear across the empty coffee shop. Zuko groaned in annoyance while you tried to stifle your laughter. She always came up with a new nickname for Zuko when she felt he was too distracted talking to you, each one more creative than the last, always having something to do with his royal blood.

Zuko went to grab his coffee, having another whispered conversation with Suki before going to leave the shop. Just before he got to the door, he turned to look at you. “See you tomorrow, (y/n)! Have a good day!”

“Thanks, Zuko! See you!” You called back. Zuko smiled brightly as he left, while Suki huffed from beside you.

“Rude ass. He didn’t even say bye to me,” Suki pouted. “I’m supposed to be his favorite worker here. You should go back to closing.”

“And he’s the rude one?” You asked with a gasp, holding your hand up to your chest. “Plus, aren’t you all supposed to hang out later?”

“Oh yeah, I told you about Sokka’s thing, didn’t I?” Suki crossed her arms over her chest. “But still, he should’ve said bye.”

“And I’m sure he’s going to hear about it tonight,” you told her, rolling your eyes.

“He absolutely will. Alright, what coffee do you want?” You could tell that was her way of trying to make peace. It worked.

**********

You were used to your routine of being an opener now. You managed to switch up your sleep schedule, you didn’t have to deal with any overly-peppy coworkers - though there were the rare times Suki had her moments - overall, opening shifts were going pretty well. You weren’t going to attribute it completely to a certain royal that came in at exactly the same time every morning, despite how often Suki would tease you about it.

When you were working, you noticed Zuko was sticking around longer. Before, he would stay just long enough to get his coffee, any conversations had while Suki was making his drink. Now he was hanging around, chatting (which was closer to flirting, in your opinion) while he drank his coffee, leaving just before the morning rush officially started. He’d been recognized a few times, the other customers coming to the counter and whispering ‘Was that Prince Zuko?’ You and Suki found it amusing, but never let it slip that he was a regular.

Just as you were in the groove of things, you got a text from your old shift leader. One of the closers had called in sick for the next day, and she’d already spoken to the store manager about switching your shift that day from opening to closing. All she needed was your approval. It only took a few seconds before you gave her the go ahead to switch your shift around. You texted Suki, letting her know what was going on before you jumped in bed, looking forward to a few extra hours of sleep.

When you walked into the shop, ready to start your shift, your old coworker immediately lit up. Well, about as much as she could. “Hey, I thought you abandoned us,” Mai said. “I don’t know why you’d switch over to opening.”

“I have my reasons,” you joked. While Suki was your favorite coworker for opening, Mai was definitely your favorite for closing. There was just something about her stoic nature that you loved. “Why the hell do you guys leave such a mess?”

“Ugh, you definitely sound like an opener now,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Go put on your apron and help us.”

You smiled and followed her orders, going to the back to put on your apron and hat. You quickly fell back in step with everyone else, used to the more laid back nature of closing. The time just seemed to fly by, and you had a brief moment where you questioned why you switched shifts in the first place. It was only a moment before your favorite customer came into your mind, reminding you what you’d miss if you went back to closing shift.

The half hour before closing was one of the quietest times of the day, probably tied with right after opening. You and Mai were chatting about some different concerts she went to since the last time you saw each other when the door opened. You had your back turned to the front, but you saw Mai’s eyes narrow at whoever just walked in. 

“What are you doing here?” she snipped. Your eyes widened at her attitude - which wasn’t anything new, it was just never directed at the customers if she could help it.

“You know, she still scares me.” You recognized that voice from the few times he came in to get Suki after work. You finally turned to face the customers. Zuko stood there, trying to look anywhere other than at Mai, and Sokka was standing next to him. Sokka waved at you.

“Well?” Mai demanded.

“I, uh, I wanted-”

“(Y/n) wasn’t working this morning and Zuko got bummed out. Suki told me she was working closing today,” Sokka cut him off. Zuko nodded, looking at the floor.

You looked at Mai, wondering what the hell was going on. “So am I just dumb or is there something happening right now?” 

“I used to date Zuko, and I told him never come in here when I’m working,” Mai said, getting louder as she directed the last part to Zuko.

“It’s not like I knew you’d be working tonight!” Zuko tried defending himself. Sokka ignored their back and forth, walking up to the counter.

“Alright, so can I get an iced coffee?” Sokka asked you. You just nodded, going through the motions of taking his order. Zuko and Mai were still going at it, so he lowered his voice as he talked to you. “Look, I know this entire thing here is awkward, but Zuko likes you. Like, he won’t shut up about you. Ever. He was supposed to ask you out today, but, you know, this is happening now.”

“So what, you decided to just pop in so you could flirt with my coworker? You really couldn’t find anyone else in this entire city?” Mai argued. You were a little surprised she overheard.

“It’s not like that!”

“Then what? You just decided to follow one of the workers from opening to closing shift?”

“You know what, I’ll wait for you outside, Sokka,” Zuko gave in, just leaving the shop.

“I hate that guy,” Mai huffed, going to the back, leaving you to finish up Sokka’s order.

**********

The next morning Zuko came in during your shift, things were definitely awkward. You put in his normal order, not sure how you were going to address things. “So, uh, you and Mai?”

“Yeah. We dated for a couple years. I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” Zuko mumbled. “I’m really sorry for that. I shouldn’t have let Sokka talk me into coming during closing shift.”

“I mean, it did get a little tense-”

“A little?”

“Okay, very tense, but like, I guess it was kind of sweet of you,” you said with a tentative smile, Sokka’s comments at the back of your mind.

“Wait, what?”

Zuko’s confusion immediately made you question what Sokka told you the last time you saw them. You turned to Suki. “Why does your boyfriend like messing with me?”

“He’s just like that,” Suki said, obviously confused at her sudden involvement in your conversation. You just finished ringing up Zuko’s order, giving the cup to Suki so she could make the drink.

“What did Sokka tell you?” Zuko asked as he took his card back from you.

“Nothing important,” you tried brushing it off with a wave of your hand. He’d already caused you enough embarrassment, and he wasn’t even there.

“(Y/n)...” Zuko dragged out. You hated how easily he could tell you were lying. Suki was busy making the coffee, not paying you any mind (as far as you knew), but the drink would only take so long to make. “C’mon, what’d Sokka tell you?”

“I mean, he might’ve said you liked me-”

“Well, yeah, I think you’re a pretty cool person-”

“No, like, you like me as in you were gonna ask me out, but you and Mai got into it,” you interrupted him interrupting you. “That’s what Sokka told me, but he likes messing with me, and since you’re his friend he probably likes messing with you more, so I probably shouldn’t have taken it so seriously.”

You could feel Zuko watching you as you rambled, even as your own eyes stayed glued to the register. “Sokka likes messing with people,” Zuko started. He paused, probably looking around the shop as he tried to figure out what to say. Your mind raced, thinking about how you probably just made things really awkward. He was probably just figuring out a nice way to reject you, and you really shouldn’t have switched shifts just because you might’ve had a crush on this dude. What were you even thinking? This guy was a royal, there was no way he-

“But yeah, it would’ve been nice if I could be the one to tell you I like you. And I guess he kinda asked you out for me?” Zuko said, more of a question than anything else. “Well, would you like to go out? We could get coffee or something.”

You froze, not sure if you heard him right. Zuko immediately flushed, taking your shock as a bad sign. “If not that’s really fine too! I’m sorry, it’s probably weird for a customer to-”

“I’m not doing anything right now, if you want to get some breakfast or something,” you interrupted him, regaining control.

“Yes the hell you are doing something right now!” Suki called from the pick up counter. “You’re working! Go on your little date after your shift is done.”

“She’s technically right,” Zuko laughed. “I can come get you after your shift?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” You could feel the excitement bubbling up within you, the little wisps of nervousness somewhere in there too.

“That’s cute. Your coffee’s getting cold, by the way,” Suki said, holding up Zuko’s cup. He went to get it, leaving soon after with a small smile and a promise to get you once your shift was over. Once he was out of the shop, you looked over to Suki. “Question still stands. Spring or Fall wedding?”

“You’re so annoying,” you laughed.

“I called it and you know it!” Before you could say anything else, another customer walked in, calling your attention to the fact that, yes, you were still very much at work. Only a few more hours, then you would be free to go on your date. You just needed to survive Suki’s teasing until then.

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness

[middleofnowhere92]

Azulaang for my ATLA Valentine’s Day Rarepair One Shots  for @ljf613

Blue Lotus

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Aang & Azula (Avatar) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Tattoos, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Era Summary: Azula, Ty lee and Mai decide to get matching tattoos on Valentine's day. Aang ends up being Azula's tattoo artist.

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Ty Lee bounced ahead of Azula into the tattoo shop. Mai and Azula followed her in, with much less enthusiasm.

By the time Mai and Azula made it inside, Ty Lee was flipping through a portfolio and chatting with the girl at the front desk. Ty Lee chirped, "Well we decided fuck valentine's day, let's get tattoos!" "More like you decided," Mai responded in a bored tone. Ty Lee laughed and then the girl at the counter called out, “Jet, Snoozles, Twinkle Toes- your appointments are here.”

A tall lanky guy confidently strode up to the desk and peered over the girl’s shoulder, “Azula?” She recognized him from the video chat when they had first discussed her tattoo. She walked forward and followed him down the small into a room that was painted a nauseating shade of orange.

He sat on a low rolling chair and she hopped up onto the tattoo chair. His wide grey eyes looked up at her, “So I was looking over what you requested, a blue lotus tattoo?” She nodded. He was easy and relaxed, “You’re still wanting it on your inner forearm?”

She flipped her forearm and pointed to the center, “Here.” He nodded, “I think it’ll look perfect. Let me show you what I drew up.” He easily rolled over to his computer and she peeked over from the chair. It was better than what she had expected, but instead she replied, “That’s fine.”

He spun around and looked at her, “Is there something you want me to change? It’s gonna be on you forever.” She brushed a bang behind her ear, “No, it’s fine. We can proceed.” He almost looked like he wanted to ask again, but instead rolled back to the computer. He printed up the design and then pulled on latex gloves.

He smiled up at her and said, “You can sit back and rest your arm on the arm rest, we’re gonna be here for a while.” She did as she was told and watched him roll over to a cabinet and grab supplies.

He rolled back to her, “Alright, so I’m just gonna disinfect you here.” She didn’t flinch as he rubbed down her inner forearm with a cool alcohol swab. She watched closely as he applied the outline to her skin. He looked up at her, “Alright, go look in the mirror and make sure it’s exactly what you want.”

She bounced down from the chair and walked over to the mirror. The flower was centered on her inner forearm and it looked like it was meant to be there. She turned and sat back down. To appease him, she said, “It’s perfect.”

“Great!” He responded. “Let’s get this show on the road.” She settled back into the chair and heard him start up the tattoo gun. He asked, “Is this your first tattoo?” She looked up at the orange ceiling. “Yes, it is.” “Oh, cool, cool.”  She bit her lip as she felt the first prick of pain.

He was bent over her arm intently at work, but his voice was carefree as he asked, “So why a blue lotus?” She really would rather sit here in silence, but she answered, “My friends and I always talked about matching tattoos. The lotus has meaning for all of us. I’m getting blue, Ty Lee is getting pink and Mai is getting red.”

He nodded along, “That’s so cool. Me and the other artist Sokka, we have matching tattoos, but you know what- actually we don’t need to talk about that.” A voice called from down the hall called, “Aang, don’t be ashamed of our bro tats!” He looked up at her, “Do you mind if I put some music on. I swear I can’t get any privacy here.”

The girl at the front desk yelled back, “The fuck do you need privacy for?” Aang rolled his eyes and Azula laughed, “Sure, go ahead.” He wiped down what he had done so far and then looked around, “Can you grab my phone and pick something on Spotify? It’s right behind you.”

She reached with her free arm and swiped open his phone, which already had the app open. She clicked on the playlist that said Tattoo Beatz. As she placed it down Lupe Fiasco played in the background. He waited for her to get settled and then went back to work, “Good choice.” She smirked, “You have your playlists pretty easily labeled.”

She watched him intently as he worked on the outline of the lotus flower. She looked around the room she was in to get her mind off of the pain. There was a happy buddha up on a shelf, plants were scattered all over the place and inspirational quotes were on the walls. She looked down at the artist as he was crouched intently working on her tattoo.

He was tall and skinny, but he had enough muscles that they flexed as he moved the tattoo gun. He was wearing a white tank top with the sleeves cut off and orange cargo pants. He was so different from her, in black jeans and a burgundy long sleeve crop top.

The tattoo gun hummed. She studied him as he worked, his face full of concentration and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His body was covered in tattoos. It wasn’t haphazardly done, but seemed intentional and well thought out. She leaned forward without realizing, to get a better look at the blue pattern that covered him.

She was startled as his chipper voice disrupted her thoughts, “I spent a few years abroad, learning traditional tattoo methods.” “Oh,” she answered. She flushed a bit at being caught looking at him. He looked up at her, about to say something, when Ty Lee bounced into the room and poked her head over Aang’s shoulder, “Ohhh it’s so pretty.”

Aang wiped away excess ink and gently tapped Azula’s arm, “We’ve been at it for a minute. Take a break.” He unfurled himself from his crouched over position, stretching to his full height, his long arms stretching up towards the ceiling. Azula’s eyes scanned over him, until she felt Ty Lee yank her out of her chair, “Let’s go see Mai’s!”

It actually did feel good to get out of the chair. The girls walked into the small room. Mai was flipping her pocket knife with her free hand as the artist intently worked on her piece. Mai’s was the darkest, the lines straighter and more severe than the other two girls, but each of their tattoos were beginning to reflect their personalities.

Ty Lee and Azula each went back to their designated chairs. Aang snapped on a new pair of gloves and got back to work. He said thoughtfully,” You’re a really good canvas. You’ve got a great skin tone for colored work and the forearm is one of my favorite spots- not too much pain for you and I don’t have to be twisted in some awful position.” Azula’s brow furrowed, “Does that happen a lot?” His grey eyes went wide, “Oh yeah. People ask for the weirdest stuff. I’m just glad that you didn’t ask for an infinity symbol or something. Not that I have anything against it- just gets repetitive after awhile.”

She couldn’t hold back as she asked, “What’s the worst tattoo you’ve ever done?” He looked up at her mischievously as he switched to blue ink, “Worst in what way? Like worst design I’ve ever done? Worst thing someone has asked for?” She couldn’t help but be pulled in by him, “All of them.” He laughed easily, “Well, every tat Sokka asks for is easily the worst thing I’ve ever done.” A “HEY!” rang out from down the hall.

She looked around the room, at the decor, then at him and asked, “Do you think a lotus tattoo is offensive? You seem more spiritual than I am.” His brows pulled together, “I wouldn’t tattoo something I thought was offensive. I know some people think it’s crude, but you’re not doing it just because you’re into yoga this week. You’re doing it because it reminds you of who you are and your friends. I think that’s really sweet.”

Azula actually outright laughed, “No one’s called me sweet before.” He looked up at her, “Bullshit. Your friend, the peppy one, I’m sure she has.” Azula smiled at the description, “Nope. Never.” He shrugged and focused as he used the gun to spread white ink, “Well, I think you are. I mean you’re spending Valentine’s day with your friends. Seems pretty sweet to me.”

She rolled her eyes, “I was forced here.” “Oh really? ‘Cause we talked about this tattoo like a week ago. What would you be doing today if you hadn’t been forced here?” She looked down, “Probably watching cheesy movies with Mai and Ty Lee.” “See! You are sweet! Spending Valentine’s day with your friends.”

She sighed in fake annoyance. She really couldn’t be too annoyed when he was giving her a bright lopsided grin. He wiped down her arm for the last time and said, “Go have a look.” She slid out of the chair and when she saw the design in the mirror, she had never seen anything so beautiful, and it was a part of her now.

The flower looked so real, so delicate. The blue, white and yellow hues all blended seamlessly. He did beadwork that hung down from each petal and connected them. He had recommended it during Azula’s consult and she was enthralled by it. He stood behind her in the mirror, “I think a blue lotus suits you.” She was still staring in awe of it, “It means perfection of wisdom.” He added, “Lotus flowers symbolize a lot of things to different cultures. I like the idea that they symbolize the human condition. We can be planted in the dirtiest waters, but still grow to be beautiful. That we can grow past a difficult beginning and make a beautiful life.”

She normally would have made a snide comment, but she was thrown off as she saw the genuine look of interest on his face. Instead she softly replied, “I’ll remember that.”

He blushed and said, “Let’s get you bandaged up.” Azula realized she would miss how delicately he touched her. How good he smelled. This was silly, she had only known him a  few hours.  

He talked her through the aftercare and she took diligent mental notes. He easily slid back in his chair and scribbled on a post it, “Here’s my number, in case you have any questions or need anything. You can always come by so I can see how you’re doing. I’d be happy to take you to lunch sometime.”

The small paper felt heavy in her hands, but she nodded and slipped it in her pocket, “That would be great.”

-

Aang watched the group of girls leave the shop. As the door shut behind them, he heard the girl in pink shriek at Azula, “HE GAVE YOU WHAT?”

Toph rolled her eyes as she closed out the register, “You’ve got it bad, don’t you Twinkle Toes?”

[octanesimp3000]

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/80096569

Summary:

Just when you thought your fake relationship with Octavio was running smoothly, a brief tussle with your feelings threatens to break the bond that you two have built over the past couple weeks.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

————————————————————————–

“So Octane, can you tell us what compelled you to confess your feelings to Ms. Y/L/N during that game? Weren’t you worried that an enemy squad might try and catch you off-guard?”

You sat with your legs crossed and your back straight in the hard chair that had been provided by the news station. The interviewer had finally stopped tiptoeing around the subject and got to the point of why you and Octavio had been invited today to this interview. You weren’t worried this time though. The previous day, the Syndicate had made sure that they’d run through every possible question that could be asked about your ‘relationship’ several times, and the both of you were ready for anything coming your way.

Octavio pretended to give his answer a moment’s thought, scratching his nose through his mask while his right bionic leg bounced the entire time. He didn’t do too well with staying still for long periods of time unless he was asleep or knocked out cold as one could expect from the high-speed daredevil. He finally spoke up, saying “Well, we kinda fought a bit before then. Y/N was worried that I was being too, uh...reckless! I got a bit annoyed at that cause I’m Octane, duh. But then, I realized she was only worried ‘cause she cares about me and I think that’s when I knew I had to tell her I cared about her too, you know?”

You reached out to take Octavio’s hand into yours, smiling over at him as sweetly as you could muster for the cameras. “I don’t think Octane was really thinking about enemy squads then. I know I wasn’t,” you said to the interview with a small laugh. As the interviewer launched into their next question about whether your relationship has brought any changes to those with the other Legends in the Apex Games, you felt Octavio gently drawing shapes on the top of your hand with his thumb. You felt your cheeks flush at the sensation but you handled the question with confidence and poise.

After a few more questions, the interview finally ended. You and Octavio climbed into the back of the black sedan sent by the Syndicate that would take you back to the dropship, feeling relieved that it had gone well. “That was kinda fun. I didn’t think you were gonna just grab my hand like that,” Octavio said before pulling his mask down to take a gulp of water from a plastic bottle.

“I thought the audience might find it cute. Do you think they’re gonna buy it?,” you asked with a satisfied grin. Octavio placed the bottle of water into the small compartment by the car door and turned to you with a thoughtful expression, his cheeks tinted pink. After a moment’s thought, Octavio merely responded with a shrug even though he definitely looked as if he’d wanted to say something and took out his phone from his pocket to play some new game he’d downloaded.

Disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm at your genius, you folded your arms across your chest and gazed out of the window as the car sped past the ruins of the Capitol City. So much history had happened here and now, it had been created into a killer playground for a game that people all around the world tuned in to.

As the sedan began to approach the roped-off area where the zip line that would take you up to the dropship’s entrance was situated, you could see the crowd of fans being held back by security. You could see several cardboard signs being held up that were drawn on with markers that said stuff like “I LOVE YOU, OCTANE” and “I WANNA GO FAST FAST FAST WITH YOU” which you honestly hoped was in the hands of an adult. Some were also wearing your merchandise with your signature quip printed over it.

Once the sedan had slowed to a stop in front of the fancy red carpet that would take you to the zip line, you opened the car door and stepped out. You were waving at the crowd which started cheering loudly when you suddenly felt Octavio, who had been standing to your left, suddenly slip his hand into yours. You turned to him with a surprised expression and Octavio leaned in close to your ear, whispering “Gotta keep up the act now, don’t we, mi princesa?”

Octavio began waving to his fans while posing for their photos as he guided you towards the zip line. You hoped your face wasn’t too red because you sure felt like your heart was about to explode from how fast it was beating. Why had Octavio whispering that in your ear gotten you so riled up, and why had his voice sounded so goddamned attractive then? You weren’t sure what was happening to your emotions right then but you were ready to get out of the public’s eye so you could stress about it privately.

Once you both had entered the dropship, you lied that you needed to go check with Ajay about something so he wouldn’t know where to find you before dashing off in the opposite direction of wherever Octavio was headed. You immediately went to the one place where you knew you’d be able to think for a bit: Pathfinder’s dorm. The other Legends rarely came by there even though Pathfinder often tried to invite them over to play a board game or two. You’d spent quite a lot of time with the robot however. You’d always felt bad that the others didn’t treat him as nicely as he did to them so you tried to make it up by being a friend.

Pathfinder was always peppy and eager to talk, but you knew that if you told him you needed some quiet to think things out, he’d happily oblige. “Hello, Y/N! How are you doing this fine day?,” Pathfinder asked with a cheery voice and a happy emoji on the screen in the centre of his chest when he answered the door. He stepped back to let you into his dorm and you immediately fell down onto one of the comfy bean bags that Pathfinder had set up in case he had any visitors.

“Would you like to play a game together? I saw on the Internet that humans like to play Monopoly so I went and got one, what fun we shall have!,” Pathfinder said happily as he pulled out the box from the bottom shelf of his bookshelf. He noticed that you had your face buried in your hands, elbows resting on your thighs and he asked “Are you not feeling too good, Y/N? I’m certified medically to help if you need it.”

You gazed up at him and said “I’m fine, Path. Don’t worry. I’m just...experiencing an emotional crisis about something I can’t even tell anyone about.” The screen on Pathfinder’s chest displayed a sad face as he moved to sit down on the bean bag next to you. He gently patted you on the head in a gesture he hoped would bring you comfort. You smiled “Thank you, Path. You’re the best.”

“Thank you, friend! I like you too,” Pathfinder said, the emoji having now changed into a smiley face with little hearts around it. You leaned back on the bean bag and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. Maybe it was just because you’d spent so much time with Octavio in a fake relationship lately that you were beginning to imagine that you had feelings for him. Or could those butterflies you felt in your stomach earlier be genuine? You weren’t sure, and that was exactly what was bothering you. Could you actually be developing feelings for Octavio?

As soon as you thought that, you immediately tried to shake the idea off. There was no way. You must just be imagining it all. You had feelings for Elliott, not Octavio. Satisfied that you’d come to a conclusion, you decided to put any thought of it out of your mind and agreed to a quick game of chess with Pathfinder who seemed delighted to have some company that afternoon.

The quick game turned into four when you refused to leave without winning at least one round. Pathfinder was more than pleased to have you around but you suspected that he might have just let you win that final round just because you were starting to look a little bit frustrated. You walked back to your dormitory after stopping by the cafeteria for a snack and was busily digging around the brown paper bag for the last cookie as you bumped the dormitory’s door closed when you noticed that Octavio was in the room too.

A very unclothed Octavio at that.

He had his back to you, his hair and body dripping wet as if he’d just come out of the shower, a dark green towel pooled around his bionic legs. The moment you caught sight of his bare backside, you yelped in surprise and dropped your cookie in your hurry to cover your eyes with your hands. “Octavio, why didn’t you change in the bathroom like you did yesterday?!,” you asked as you turned to face towards the door and failed to judge your distance from it, causing you to bump your forehead right into it. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay, Y/N?!,” Octavio asked worriedly as he hurried over to you, not having processed what had led up to this line of events in the first place. You could feel him hovering beside you, trying to see where you had hurt yourself but you kept twisting away to avoid accidentally seeing more of Octavio’s body parts than you’d already seen. Seeming to finally sense what you were so panicked over, he finally moved back to the side of the dormitory he was previously at and put on the tank top and gray sweatpants he’d laid out before.

When Octavio said that he was dressed, you finally allowed yourself to remove your hands from your eyes and cautiously turned around to face him. “You didn’t tell me when you were coming back so after I went for a few spins around the range, I thought I’d quickly take a shower and change here. I didn’t think you’d come back so soon, sorry,” Octavio apologised quickly as he proceeded to towel his hair dry.

“I-It’s fine. Just please get dressed in the bathroom before you come back to the room in the future,” you said, not knowing exactly where to look. The gray sweatpants were honestly not helping either. To hide the growing blush on your cheeks, you bent down to sweep up the cookie and its crumbs into the palm of your hand before dumping them into the trash can. Inside the trash can, you spotted numerous empty syringes stained green from the stim Octavio used to increase his movement speed. Why’d he throw them away here if he’d used them in the practice range?

You were just about to ask Octavio about it when you noticed that he was frowning at you. “You lied to me earlier, Y/N. I bumped into Ajay on my way back here and she said she’s not seen you since yesterday,” Octavio said as he folded his arms across his chest. His anger suddenly faded and his voice gave away the pain and confusion he was feeling. “Why would you lie to me about something stupid like that?”

Surprised at this reaction, you tried to reply as best as you could without giving away what you were actually doing but failing terribly because your words came out sounding harsher than you’d planned them to be “I just...I just needed some space, okay? We’ve spent almost 24/7 with each other and I just needed a break from that. I was with Pathfinder playing Monopoly, not with Ajay. I only told you that because I didn’t want you to find me if you came looking for me, I’m sorry.”

When Octavio finally processed your words, his eyes widened and he quietly asked “So, what you’re saying is I’ve been too...what, clingy? You don’t like having me around, is that it?” You were lost for words. You didn’t understand how Octavio had made a connection between you needing some space and you not wanting to be around him entirely. But before you could try and correct him, Octavio said with a firm steeliness visible in his light green eyes “Fine. I’ll give you space.”

“Octavio, don’t be silly. I was just-wait, come back!,” you’d desperately started to explain what you’d meant when Octavio dashed out of the dormitory past you, slamming the door roughly behind him. You sat down abruptly onto the bed and flopped onto your back. Why was being in a fake relationship so hard?

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Between the Ink and Papers Ch. 4

Summary: Steve and Peggy have been divorced for a year and Sarah is still starting to find her groove in it. However, it becomes a lot easier when she and Typhanie realize it might be time for her dad to start dating again.

Pairings: tattooartist!dad!Steve x Reader, Typhanie x Sarah, Peggy x Logan, Bucky x Natasha

Word Count: 1806 words

Warnings: cussing? that’s about it!

Between the Ink and Papers Masterlist - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

--

A simple creak and the door opened, casting a dim light from the hall. Their home was simple, tucked away above the shop. Steve slept on a pullout couch so that Sarah could have her own room. At her request, there were plants everywhere. A way to remind him that this was their home. Not just his.

Not that he minded one bit.

Steve quietly closed the door behind him. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw her backpack on the cluttered counter and the mail on the floor. Poor kid had probably been so tired that she hadn’t even noticed. He scooped the letters up, tucking them back into place before grabbing her backpack. His eyes shifted briefly to the microwave, the blinking red 1:00 a.m. far too obnoxious.

He was definitely getting too old for these late nights.

Scratching the back of his head, he silently made his way to the back, cringing only when a floorboard squeaked underneath him. He paused. Surely that didn’t wake her. Steve gently opened the door.

Inside, sprawled out on her bed and half hanging off, was his daughter. That crazy teenager. She was half hanging off, her pillow already on the floor. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that she’d gotten in a fight with the bed and that the thing won.

He gently tucked the backpack next to her dresser and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. What a dork. It made him think back to that awkward woman that he tattooed earlier.

The gun was between his fingers, poised and ready to go. Brow arched and lips quirked, he found himself absolutely confused. “Uh…” He shrugged. “Okay?” Steve raised the gun, waving it around. “Can I get started now?”

Y/N’s head tilted, curiosity getting the better of her. “Really? You don’t care?”

Steve snorted as she extended her arm. The familiar buzz filled the air as he got to work on the piece. “Should I? She seems to be doing better, so safe to say you’re doing your job. I’m just doing mine.”

She hadn’t said anything else after that. Apparently the buzzing had been enough for them. Not that he minded. He actually preferred when his customers weren’t the chatty kind.

Shaking his head, Steve pulled the door shut and blinked away his own sleep. He hated how tired he was. It seemed his time with Sarah passed by too quickly for him to actually enjoy it and being exhausted never helped. Still…he collapsed on the couch, too tired to unfold the bed lying underneath. Just a few minutes…

Just a few and he’d get back up.

--

The smell of bacon and coffee woke him up. He jolted, blood rushing and pounding in his head as his boot scraped against the floor. Blinking, he ran a hand through his messy hair before pressing his palms to his eyes.

“Hey, old man.” The squeak against the floorboard made him look up, relieved to find she was holding a mug filled with black coffee. “I don’t want to deal with you being a grouch. Drink up.”

He groaned, taking the mug before she returned to their breakfast. “Is that how you’re supposed to talk to your dad?” Downing half the mug’s contents in one gulp, Steve immediately felt better. He rose to his feet, knowing his shirt was probably a mess and realizing he still had his boots on.

Definitely – he was definitely getting too old for the shop.

“How long’ve you been up,” he asked, noticing that she was almost done with his breakfast. “You could’ve kicked me or something.”

“Why?” She pushed the plate onto the bar, grabbing a fork and knife as he took a bite of bacon. “You work hard.” Sarah grabbed her poptarts, taking a bite as Steve froze mid-bite, shoulders slumped. “What?”

He snatched the pastry out of her hand, trading it for a piece of toast that was on his plate. “Do you think just ‘cause you’re here, you can get away with that?”

She smiled a little too innocently. “It’s just a poptart.”

“Yeah, and all the other crap you eat.”

“Hey!”

Streve smirked, gesturing to the food between them. “Eat up. We need to get you to school -- ” He glanced at his watch. “Fuck!” Looking up, he frowned when he saw that innocent look on his kid’s face.

She knew. Of course she did.

“Get your backpack. Now.” Shoving food in his mouth, he ignored the slight stomping that could only come from a teenager. “Hurry!” He snatched up a shirt, smelling it. For now, it would have to do. Changing, he shouted, “Sarah, come on!”

“I’m here.”

He spun around, tugging the shirt down. Ruffling her hair, he pushed her towards the door. “Stop huffing. You should’ve said something.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend a day with my old man.”

Steve sighed, closing the door behind him. As much as he would love to spend the day with Sarah, he couldn’t. Not right now. “Later. We can go play pool or something. Sound good?”

Sarah hesitated, biting her lip. She knew she still needed to talk to her dad about everything she and Miss Y/L/N had gone over. And yet…the idea of just spending some fun time with him sounded too good to be true.

Yeah, talking could wait.

--

The bell’s shrill scream, though familiar, still managed to make Y/N jump out of her skin. She sighed softly, taking a much needed sip of her coffee. It was wonderful, warming her insides. Flipping open her planner, she grimaced when she saw who she had a meeting with.

How had she forgotten that was today of all days?

“Um…Miss Y/L/N?”

She looked up, massaging her temple only to stop when she realized who was standing in her doorway. “Hey.” Y/N stood, trying to hide her surprise. “Typhanie, right?”

She nodded, lip caught between her teeth and fingers fidgeting with the obnoxious hall pass in her hands. “I just – I wanted to ask you about something.”

Y/N smiled, gesturing to the chair. “Of course. Have a seat.”

Typhanie did, tucking a leg underneath as she looked around. “I’ve never actually been in here before. It’s…” She noticed the positive signs, the wall decorations, and all the bright colors. “Peppy.”

Chuckling, Y/N said, “I’ll tell my friends that’s how you described their decorating skills. So, what’s up?”

“I know you normally do like,” Typhanie sighed. “I don’t know, counseling sort of stuff? But I was wondering if you could also help with the whole future type thing. Y’know, with…” She bit her lip, doubts starting to creep in the back of her head. Why was she even here? This was a waste of time and –

“Hey.” Y/N watched Typhanie blink. Those negative thoughts were burying her, scaring her. “You mean colleges, right? The ‘after highschool’ path?”

Typhanie nodded, earning a smile. “It’s just me and my dad. We don’t exactly have a lot money wise and I just…I want to be prepared. Get the scholarships, do what I need, and…I…” She laughed, the sound coming across more as a nervous breath than anything else. “I really want to go to college, but I want to make sure it’s the right path.”

“What do you want to study?”

“Music,” she admitted with a determined nod. “And I know not everyone goes to school for it, so I just want to figure out where I’m going.”

Y/N nodded, scribbling down some notes. “I love how you’re approaching this, Typhanie. It’s mature and level-headed. Give me today to put some information together, okay? You can stop by tomorrow and we can go over it. How does that sound?”

She breathed, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “That sounds amazing. Thank you!”

“No problem. But…” She pointed to the hallpass. “You might want to go back to class before your teacher realizes it wasn’t the bathroom that you wandered off to.”

Typhanie grinned, jumping up. “Right! Yeah, of course! Um…thanks again.” She hurried out of the room, earning a far too amused laugh from Y/N.

Shaking her head, Y/N went back to the notes she’d taken. Scribbled: Typhanie Wilson. Music. College?? Needs to know her options.

She knew how overwhelming the future was. Especially at that age. At least Typhanie was seeking help. It was better than what she’d done at her age.

Knock knock

Y/N looked up. Peggy and Logan. Checking her phone, sure enough. It was time for their meeting. “Hey! Right on time.”

Peggy smiled. Weak, nervous. Like most mothers she met with. “Thank you for keeping these meetings, Miss Y/L/N.”

“It really means a lot to us,” Logan admitted. That shyness of being a new, eager stepdad was still there. Even after a year. He wanted to be good to Sarah and Y/N respected that.

“I know. Just repeating for everyone’s sake, but I cannot tell you anything Sarah has confided to me during our sessions. I’m just guiding you towards what could help your family transition best.”

“We know.” There was a hint of defeat in Peggy’s voice, a silent plea for her to bend the rules.

But Y/N wouldn’t. She cared about her students too much.

“Alright, have a seat then.”

Standing up, Y/N moved to the door. She started to close the door, pausing when she saw a familiar face.

And he saw her.

Steve raised a brow. “Uh…Y/N, right?”

She smirked. “Here, it’s Miss Y/L/N.”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Fair enough.” However, his eyes had wandered, catching sight of who was inside her office. “Uh…” Steve grimaced.

Peggy caught his eye, blushing. “Steve.”

“Peggy.” He glanced past her, nodding. “Logan.”

“Hey.”

Y/N looked from mother to father and back again. She had been sure that when she started these meetings with Peggy, she had been promised that Steve was informed. He had the option to join and chose not to.

Now, it was clear that hadn’t been the case.

Peggy gave her a look, another silent plea for her to keep quiet. To not say anything and simply continue their meeting.

Y/N shook her head. Oh…hell on. She looked back at Steve, leaning against the doorframe. “We’re about to have a meeting to discuss how Sarah’s been handling the past year. Do you want to join?”

Surprise. Concern. An eagerness that only came from a loving parent. Those were the emotions etching Steve’s features. Practically shining in those pretty blue eyes of his. Relieved, he admitted, “I would love that.”

Y/N nodded, opening the door wider. “Come on in.”

He crossed the threshold and she closed the door. Lingering only for a moment, she turned to the three parents. Here goes nothing. “Coffee, anyone?”

--

A/N: Thank you for all the support with this fic!! I really appreciate it!!

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[fics-of-culture]

Rewriting Supernatural: Whiskey Eyes

Summary: Everyone knows the story of Gabriel, but how does that story change when he meets the Winchester’s youngest sister Y/N? Will their love be strong enough to change his fate?

Words: 4,847

A/N: I am reposting all of my old fics because my old account accidentally got deleted.

Tall Tales 2.15

Your brothers had been driving you up the wall ever since the three of you first took on this hunt. Originally, you had come to town looking into a suspicious suicide that looked to be a classic haunting case. But from the moment the three of you had stepped foot into this place, Dean and Sam had been bickering nonstop. Between the arguing and childish pranks, none of you had been able to make any actual progress on the case. Currently, the three of you were sitting in a run down motel room. You and Sam were on the couch, reading up on the case. Dean was moaning audibly on the bed as he ate his chili fries and listened to “Walk Away”. Sam rubs his face, looking exhausted.

“Dude. You mind not eating those on MY bed?” Sam asked irritably, and you just know that another argument would begin any second now.

“No, I don't mind.” Dean pops another fry into his mouth. “How's research going?” Dean asks as he flips through a magazine. You sigh in irritation, frustrated that you and Sammy got saddled with all the homework while Dean sits around eating takeout.

“You know how it's going?” Sam slams his book shut and you prepare for the inevitable shitshow. “Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If I had my computer.” Dean nods and hums at Sam sarcastically. Sam picks up another book and tried to continue research. You’re relieved that Sam decided to let that go.

“Can you turn that down please?” You spoke too soon.

“Yeah, absolutely.” Dean blindly reaches for the radio and intentionally turns up the music.

“You know what?” Sam shouts over the music “Maybe, uh, maybe you should just go somewhere for a while.” Dean shuts the radio off suddenly.

“Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell.”

“Dean, I told you, I have nothing to do wi—“ A knock at the door interrupts Sam’s thought and you quickly stand to answer the door. You peek out the peephole and you’re relieved to find Bobby standing there. You open the door and pull the older hunter into a tight hug. The man had basically been a father to all three of you for your entire life, and you hoped that, if anyone could, he’d be able to put your brothers in their places.

“Well hey to you too, sweetheart” Bobby says, returning your hug.

“Hey, Bobby.” You hear Sam speaking over your shoulder as you pull away.

“Hey, boys.”

“Hey, Bobby!” Dean says as he stands from his spot on the bed.

“It’s good to see you again so soon.” Bobby says, shooting a confused look between the two boys. It’s clear to Bobby that something is going on here, he just can’t place a finger on what. You shoot him a sympathetic smile as Sam places a hand on the older man’s shoulder. You feel bad about wrapping Bobby up in your family drama, but you know that he’s the only one who’ll be able to sort the boys out.

“Yeah, uh, thanks for coming.” You all walk over to where Dean’s standing. “Come on in.” Sam says.

“Thank god you’re here.” Dean shakes Bobby’s hand, clearly pleased to see the man.

“So, um... what didn’t you wanna talk to me on the phone about?” Bobby asks. Sam launches into an explanation of the case and why it was so urgent that Bobby come to help. You all sit down as Sam begins to recall what happened when you all first went to the campus bar to interview possible witnesses. Predictably, Sam and Dean start bickering back and forth as they both tell their interpretations of the story. At this point, the retelling had veered away from the hunt and was now focused on Dean’s exploits. You didn’t bother to listen, knowing that the truth lied somewhere in the middle of both of their recounting. Bobby shoots you an unbelieving look and you just shrug as if to say ‘That’s pretty much what I’ve been dealing with all week’.

“Right,” Bobby nodded, scrutinizing the two brothers. “And where were you when all this was going down?” Bobby’s focus shifted to you.

“Well, while they were at the bar I thought it might help to check out the front steps of the building where the body was found.”

~~~~~

It’s around evening when you walk up to the front steps of the building, looking for anything that might indicate a possible haunting. The steps had been cleaned recently, all evidence that anyone had ever died here wiped away. Still, you squat down and search around to see if you could find anything that had been missed. You stand again after a few minutes, having found nothing of interest. You look up at the building, trying to figure out which window your victim had fell from. You look back at the front doors when you hear someone step out of the building. A janitor pulls out his keys to lock the door behind him.

“It’s a little too late for classes, Miss.” He says over his shoulder.

“Oh no, I don’t go here. I’m actually a reporter. I’m here to report on professor Arthur Cox’s death.” That seemed to catch the janitors attention. You immediately noticed the odd way that he stared when he turned to get a good look at you. His head was cocked and he watched you with rapt interest. You immediately take note of his breathtaking whiskey colored eyes. You can see them glint even in the ever dimming light.

“Well then,” The man gives you a sly smirk. “Ask me anything.” He walks over to you, leaning on the railing closest to you. He crosses his arms as he waits for you to respond.

“Ask yo- wait did you see something?”

“Did I see something?” He asks jovially. “Honey, who do you think found the body?” You idly think that he seems quite peppy for a man who found a dead body.

“Did you see anything weird that night?” He laughs a bit as you watch him with interest. He could be the break in the case you needed.

“You mean something weirder than a guy falling to his death?” You feel a little silly as he says that. Obviously a dead guy would probably constitute as the weirdest thing a guy like this had probably ever seen.

“Well yeah, I mean anything other than that?” Your statement turns into a question by the end and the janitor chuckles at you again. He seems entertained by your embarrassment.

“Actually...” the man leans in as if he’s about to let you in on a secret. You unconsciously lean in as well, hanging on his next words. “He didn’t exactly go up there alone, if you know what I mean.” You swallowed as you noticed your close proximity to this stranger. You cleared your throat as you leaned back.

“Is that so?” You try to slip back into your ‘professional journalist’ act. But for some reason, it’s difficult around him.

“Yeah. Told the police about the girl, but they must’ve never found her.” The man shrugged.

“I see.” You suddenly feel the need to end this line of questioning and get back to the motel. “Thank you so much, um...” You pause as you realize you’d never learned the man’s name. He considered you for a moment before seemingly deciding something.

“Gabe.” He put out his hand and you shook it. “Pleased to meet ya.”

“Y/N.” You’re not sure what compelled you to tell him your real name. You usually gave a fake name when interviewing witnesses. You don’t fret too much over it though, there’s not much anyone could do with just a first name.

“Well, Y/N.” Gabe looks at you seriously for a moment, as if he could see right through you. His stony expression fades as a cocky smile slides back onto his face. “Good luck with your article.” Article? Oh right! You had completely forgotten that you were pretending to be a journalist. Man, this guy was seriously throwing you off your game. You nod your head and leave before you can make yourself look any more foolish than you already have.

~~~~~

“And that’s all there really is to it.” You rap up your story and Bobby nods, deep in thought. You had decided to downplay the effect that Gabe had had on you. The last thing you wanted was for your brothers to think that weren’t you to the task of solving this case. Sam and Dean start to fight again and Bobby finally decides to speak up about it.

“Okay. What's going on with you two?” Bonny eyes the two of them suspiciously.

“Nothing. No... It’s nothing.” Sam says.

“Come on. You're bickering like an old married couple.”

“No, see married couples can get divorced. Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins.” Sam and Dean fall into another argument and you suddenly feel a headache coming on. Bobby looks back at you.

“Do you know anything about this?” You just shake your head silently. You had no idea why your brothers were acting like this.

“Look, it-“ Your brother cuts himself off with a sigh “We’ve just been on the road for too long. Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it.”

“Okay...” Sam continues on with the story.

“So anyway. We figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime.”

~~~~~

The three of you stood in front of the building dressed as electricians. You and Sam compare notes from the night before as you wait to be let into the building. You look up in surprise as you see the Janitor, Gabe, approach.

“Hey, you!” He exclaims when he spots you standing beside your brothers. “Long time no see.” Gabe gives you a wide, lopsided grin as he jogs up to your little group. You suddenly feel shy as you feel Sam and Dean looking between the two of you.

“Yeah, anyway,” Sam starts up, drawing Gabe’s attention away from you. “We’re uh, the electricians. We were called by the school to do some repairs?”

“Is that so?” The janitor’s eyes narrow like he was sizing up your brothers. “Man, nobody tells me anything in this place!” Gabe saunters to the door to unlock it as he continues to speak. “Makes sense though, this place has been needing a tune up for years.” He holds the door open and you all walk inside. You take one step before Gabe stops suddenly. “Except,” He turns around and points at you. You’re not sure why, but when his eyes meet yours you suddenly feel nervous. “I thought you said you were a reporter.” You freeze your as you try to think of a good cover.

“Uh, I am a reporter. But my family owns an electrician business. And my brothers here,” You gesture to your brothers standing behind you. “Sometimes call me in when they need an extra pair of hands.”

“These guys are your brothers?” Gabe quirks his eyebrow, looking skeptical. You nodded.

“That’s quite the family business you’ve got there.” Gabe pins you with a look and you can’t help but feel as though this was some kind of inside joke you weren’t in on.

“Buddy, you have no idea.” Dean says as the janitor finally lets you into the building. Sam continues asking Gabe questions as you head up to the professor’s office. You remain silent as you observe your surroundings.

“So, how long've you been working here?”

“I’ve been mopping this floor for six years.” Gabe responds as he lets you into the professor’s office. “There you go, guys.” You look around as Sam pulls out his EMF reader.

“What the heck’s that for?”

“Huh. Well. Not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good.” The janitor said as he leaned against a wall.

“Why’s that?”

“Didn’t your sister tell you? He’s dead. She came ‘round yesterday investigating it.” Gabe shot you a confused look.

“Never thought to mention it.” You muttered back lamely.

“Oh, what happened?” Dean asked, trying to appear casual.

“He went out that window right there.” Gabe pointed to the window behind the desk. “I’m the one who found him. But Y/N can tell you all about that I’m sure.” He sends a subtle wink your way and you’re at a loss for words. You clear your throat to speak.

“Yeah, you told me yesterday that the professor came up here with some girl, right?” You direct you questioning to Gabe.

“That’s correct.”

“You saw this girl go in, huh? But did you ever see her come out?” You see Sam shift into investigative mode. Gabe looks off to the side as he thinks.

“Now that you mention it, no.”

“You ever see her before, around?” Sam’s trying to act casual, but you’re worried that Gabe will see right through it. He seemed surprisingly perspective for a janitor. But game doesn’t seem to notice the inquisitive tone that Sam’s voice has taken.

“Not her.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, his mouth full of nuts he found in a glass dish on the desk.

“I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but uh... Mister Morality here? He brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat.” Dean laughs jovially at that and you elbow him in the chest, causing him to cough up a nut. Gabe just grins at your antics.

“One more thing. This building, it only has four stories, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So there wouldn't be a room 669?”

“Course not. Why do you ask?”

“Ah, just curious. Thanks.” You thank the janitor for his time and the three of you head back to your motel room.

~~~~~

A few days later you’re back to pounding the pavement as Sam and Dean talk to a coed about an apparent alien abduction. You take a seat on a nearby bench as you mull things over. You’re at a loss at this point. You saw the circular scorch mark on the grass, but you couldn’t possibly believe that aliens were behind this. Before you can fall any further into your thoughts, a hyper little puppy scampers up to you. His tail wags furiously as he jumps on your leg.

“Hey buddy. Oh my gosh you’re adorable.” You bend down to let the excited pup sniff your fingers. After he seems satisfied, you give his head a scratch.

“Jack! Get back here!” You look up to see Gabe running towards the two of you. The dog tries jumping on your lap as you watch his owner draw near. “I’m so sorry about that!” Despite his apology, Gabe has an infectious grin on his face.

“It’s no trouble.” You say as you continue petting little Jack.

“We we’re going for a walk when the little bugger slipped the leash can you believe that?” You look up to see the leash hanging from Gabe’s hand. You chuckle as he sits down next to you on the bench. “Little guy must’ve been real excited to meet you.” Gabe picks up his dog and places the happy pup in his lap. “So, you here as a journalist or an electrician today?” Gabe asks as he fixes the leash to Jack’s collar.

“Neither, I’m just here.” Gabe nods as he puts his dog back on the ground. You decide that now’s a good a time as any to get some more info from the guy. “But I heard about that coed, says he was abducted by aliens. Gabe tilts back his head, letting out a hearty chuckle at that. You wait with baited breath to see what he has to say about the matter.

“You don’t seriously believe that nonsense, do you.”

“No, no of course not.” You turn your body so you’re fully facing the janitor. “But that scorch mark on the ground. I don’t think some frat kid could fake that.”

“True, but that don’t exactly mean aliens.” Gabe waggles his eyebrows at you. You don’t know what it is about him, but you feel at ease whenever he’s around. Your brothers walk up to where the two of you were sitting. They nod to the janitor and inform you that it’s time to go. You say your goodbyes and head back to the motel with as little information as you had when you’d left.

~~~~~

You sigh as you sneak out the motel door. After finding yet another victim, tensions between your brothers was at an all time high. You needed a break. This hunt was starting to really get to you. You weren’t sure where you were headed, but you had decided that a walk would probably be beneficial nonetheless. After a few minutes, you wind up back on campus. Lost in thought, you walk around aimlessly. You’re fed up with all this. You’re constantly forced to live in tight quarters with your brothers. You don’t have any real friends. And sometimes it feels like the weight of the work rests on your family’s shoulders. You want to scream. You want to run away and try to live a normal life. But you know it would just be pointless. You saw how well that went for Sammy, after all. You sigh to yourself and you think it might be best to return to your motel. Until you hear a voice behind you.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” You whip your head around to find Gabe. You’re shocked due to the fact that you hadn’t even heard him approach. Being a hunter, you had a heightened sense of hearing and yet, a janitor had managed to sneak up on you no problem. Despite your surprise, you slip on a mask of indifference as you address him.

“Apparently this campus isn’t as big as I first thought.” You gave him a small smile.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you alright?” Apparently you weren’t hiding your emotions as well as you thought.

“I’m fine. Just tired I think.” You sigh a bit as you speak.

“Here, why don’t we sit down.” Gabe gently grasps your hand as he leads you to sit on the front steps. He settles next to you as he waits for you to speak.

“You don’t need to do all this. I’m fine really.” You can tell that Gabe can see through your lies. You sigh, knowing it would be easier to just tell the truth. Well part of it at least. “My brothers are just really getting on my nerves lately. They’ve been fighting almost nonstop lately.” You turn to face the man beside you and you see an expression of... guilt? No that’s not right. He probably just felt bad for you. You keep talking. At this point, the words are tumbling out of your mouth without your permission. “It’s just hard to constantly be around them. We’re constantly traveling around and sharing motel rooms and it’s just exhausting.” Uh oh. You can tell that you’ve over shared by the way Gabe quirks his eyebrow up at you. “We, uh, travel a lot for our uh... electric company...” You finish off, lamely.

“Forgive me for overstepping my boundaries, but have you ever considered just quitting?” Gabe says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Quitting?” Shock seeps into your voice as you parrot the man.

“Yeah, leaving the company to focus on your journalism career or whatever.” You’d honestly never really given much thought to it before. Of course, Sammy quit for a while, but you saw how that turned out. At some point you had just sort of resigned yourself to the idea of doing this forever.

“I can’t. It was, uh, our dad’s business. He was really set on all of us becoming... electricians.” You feel defensive suddenly. About your father, about the fact that you never even tried to leave the hunting business before. At least Sam had the balls to at least try to do something else with his life. “Besides, it’s an important job. You have no idea how badly people in this world need... electricity.” Gabe let out a laugh beside you.

“Honey, it not like you’re the only electrician in the world.” Gabe pauses as he looks you over. “Although you are the cutest.” You give him a playful glare as he continues. “I’m just saying, you shouldn’t have to feel forced into doing something just because your folks expect you to. Believe me, I know more about that then you’d think.” You give Gabe a look, not necessarily believing that he could possibly understand what you’re going through. He responds with a more serious look. “Listen, I just think that people should be able to do whatever they want to do. That’s why humans have free will in the first place, right?”

“And being a janitor, that’s what you decided you wanted to do?” You realize only after you said it how pretentious you sound. You hadn’t meant for it to be a jab, you were genuinely just trying to ask. Gabe doesn’t seem offended, however. He just sends you a knowing smile.

“I do what I want, when I want. Being a janitor just so happens to suit my fancies right now.” You wished you could live the way Gabe did. Going around doing whatever you wanted on a whim. You wanted nothing more than to be telling the truth now. To just be a girl who’s father wanted her to be an electrician. Maybe then you wouldn’t have felt pressured to stay. You could see yourself attending a college just like this one. Heck, maybe you would even become a journalist for real! Or a photographer or anything else you felt you wanted. And on the weekends you could meet up with Gabe and laugh about your latest petty drama with your friends. You shake off the thought. None of this could ever be true. You were a hunter, same as your father.

“Must be nice.” You say wistfully. 

“It’s not as unattainable as you might think.” For a moment, you marvel at the fact that this man always seemed to know what you were thinking. The thought fades from your head and you stand. You hadn’t come here to make friends. And as much as you hated to think it, at some point the hunt would be over and you’d never see Gabe again.

“I’ve got to head out. But thanks, you know? For letting me vent and stuff.” Gabe gives you a sad smile, he knew you were pulling away. You wish you could be open with him.

“Anytime. See you around kid.” You walk away without a word.

~~~~~

You’ve never felt more stupid in your entire life then you do at this very moment. Bobby had, almost immediately, figured out what you were dealing with the moment he showed up. Sam and Dean’s constant arguing, paired with the ironic fated of all your victims pointed to the culprit being a trickster. Once Bobby had explained to you the lore behind tricksters, you knew who it had to be. The janitor ‘Gabe’ (although you doubted that was his real name) had played you all from the very beginning. You couldn’t help the feeling of disappointment that weighed on your shoulders. The time the two of you had spent together, the talk you’d had about family, him acting like he actually cared. None of it was real. It was all just an elaborate trick. He pretended to be your friend so that you wouldn’t notice that he was the one behind all of this. And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. You know you shouldn’t be upset by this. You’d only known the man for about a week. But your pride was wounded, a fact that you contributed to not having seen through his charade the moment you met him. You tried to pretend that you didn’t care that first person you’d considered to be a friend in years had been using you. And when your brothers hashed out a plan to put an end to the trickster, you pretended that that didn’t hurt as well.

~~~~~

Considering the events of the last 24 hours, you were less than pleased to be back on campus. You had opted out of going to meet the trickster with your brothers, not wanting him to pick up on the fact that something was off. Although your brother’s didn’t exactly understand, you explained that it would be better for you to show up later with Bobby. As you approach the door to the auditorium you hear the trickster speak.

“Sam was right. You shouldn't have come alone.”

“Well, I'll agree with you there.” You, Sam and Bobby take that as your cue to move in. You step through the doors to see a bed with two beautiful scantily clad women sitting on a bed atop the auditorium stage. You have to admit that the odd sight throws you off for a moment before you see Dean standing in front of trickster, who is lounging comfortably on one of the chairs and munching on a candy bar. Gabe turns to face you and he can immediately tell that you are more than unhappy with him. His shoulders slump a bit as his gaze returns to Dean.

“That fight you guys had outside – that was a trick?” The trickster seems impressed by your brothers’ deception. Dean just shrugs. “Hm. Not bad.” He nods his head impressed as Dean pulls a stake from his coat. “But you want to see a real trick?” You’re worried about how casual the man seems about this. He doesn’t seem to be the least bit concerned about his impending death. Instead, he gestures with his candy bar and masked man wielding a chainsaw appears behind Sam. Before Dean can stab the trickster with his stake, a girl from on stage grabs him and tossed him towards the bed. With the adrenaline pumping through your veins, your hunter instincts kick in. You rush towards the chainsaw wielding maniac. The masked man stops what he’s doing and turns to face you. But before you can do anything, you hear the trickster speak. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Sorry, sweetheart.” And with that, you are poofed out to the hall. You race up to the auditorium door, ready to get back into the fight. But the door refuses to budge when you pull on it.

“Oh, come on!” You yank harder on the door, to no avail. You can hear the sounds of fighting inside, but you’re unable to do anything. You back up and try kicking down the door, but nothing works. It seems that the trickster wants you to stay out of this particular fight. Suddenly the room goes quiet and under your fingers, you feel the door unlock. You walk in the door just in time to see your brother pull a stake out of the trickster’s corpse. You try not to flinch as you watch his body fall back onto the seat. You slowly make your way to Bobby and your brothers. You don’t take your eye off the trickster the entire time. Dean checks that you’re all okay and you nod mutely.

“Where the hell were you anyway?”

“The trickster locked me out.”

“Well, I won’t protest to anything that keeps my baby sister out of the fight.” You glare at him. “But I got to say... he had style.” You roll your eyes as you all head towards the door. As the others walk ahead of you, you pause on the steps for a moment by the trickster’s body. You’re happy to have finished the hunt, but as you look at the body before you you can’t help but wish things had gone differently.

“You coming, Y/N?” Bobby is stood in the doorway waiting for you. You take one last look at the man and continue on your way. “Good. We gotta get the hell out of here.”

The four of you make a beeline to Dean’s car. Sam and Dean pause for only a moment to exchange, what you can only assume to be, their apologies. As you drive away, Bobby speaks up suddenly

“You know the only part of this case that doesn’t make a lick of sense is,” Bobby turns to face you sitting beside him in the backseat. “How come the trickster was able to turn your brothers against each other that easily, and yet he let you go scot free.” You shrug.

“Guess he didn’t feel the need to.”

“Huh.”

~~~~~

You swing by the motel room to pick up your things before you ‘get the hell out of dodge’. And before you leave, you see there on your pillow, a wrapped chocolate bar.

[xialing-gf]

school spirit

summary: mj does the most disastrous thing a high schooler could possibly do: fall for a cheerleader

wc: 1781

MJ loathed going to school sports events. Well, loathed was a strong word. She strongly preferred not to waste three hours of her life by screaming and shouting with teens who were way too interested in people kicking balls around. MJ’s idea of a school sports event was probably wildly exaggerated as she had never actually been to one and relied on movies and rumors to create an idea of what they were like.

As much as Michelle hated going to school sports events, she caved and agreed to attend a football game with Ned and Peter (only because that was the only way they would agree to play Super Smash Bro’s at her house during the weekend). They dragged her excitedly to the football game and chose front row seats so they could be closer to the action. 

Michelle didn’t tell her friends that she brought a book with her so she could read it once they were distracted by the game. However, she didn’t expect to be the one who was the most distracted. 

When Michelle was about to take out her book to read once the football game started, her attention was caught by the cheerleaders cheering on the track. Normally, Michelle would have just rolled her eyes at their peppy facade but her eyes landed on you. 

You were one of the most enthusiastic cheerleaders as you always cheered the loudest and never faltered in front of an unimpressed crowd. Michelle watched in awe when you ran to the middle of the formation and the cheerleaders boosted you up to the top of the pyramid they formed. Waving your blue and yellow pom-poms, you shouted, “M-I-D-T-O-W-N! Go Midtown!” 

Your eyes met Michelle’s when you scanned the audience and when you saw her stunned expression, you gave her a wink before jumping down into the net formed by your fellow cheerleaders’ arms. Right at that moment, Ned and Peter turned towards Michelle to ask her if she wanted to get snacks with them and saw the blush spreading across her tan skin.

“Who’s that?” Michelle asked her friends as she watched you continue to chant a cheer with the other cheerleaders. 

“Whoa, Michelle. I think she’s the captain of the cheerleader team. She’s way out of your league,” Ned shook his head, chuckling when he saw the lovesick expression on your face.

“Do I look like I care?” MJ turned towards her friends with a deadpan expression on her face. Peter stifled a laugh behind his hand. “Fine. I’ll find out who she is without your help.”

Michelle watched you during the entire football game, making sure to look away when you glanced in her direction to seem disinterested. Once the football game was over, Michelle saw you and your friends head to the hot dog stand, so she bid a quick goodbye to Peter and Ned before walking to the hot dog stand. Ned honestly thought Michelle was going insane and called after her, reminding her that she shouldn’t be talking to you and she responded by flashing him the middle finger. 

While you were giggling about a joke with your friends next to the hot dog stand, Michelle walked up to you after taking a deep breath and mentally preparing herself.

“Hi! I’m Michelle. Uh, you’re really good at cheerleading. I just wanted to let you know that,” Michelle managed to speak without completely stuttering, which she was almost never able to do with complete strangers.

“Oh hi! I’m Y/n. Thank you so much for your compliment! I really appreciate it,” You grinned at Michelle and Michelle nearly fainted. She swore that your smile had the beauty of all the stars in the sky combined. Pointing to the book Michelle had tucked her arm, you asked, “Is that ‘Turtles All the Way Down’ by John Green? I love that book!”

Michelle is shocked by your remark and replies, “Really? Me too. I mean, obviously, since I’m reading it.”

“We should hang out sometime. You seem like a cool person,” You casually remarked as you took a sip out of your drink. Surprise was evident on your friends’ faces as they observed your strange behavior.

“Yeah! We should. You seem like a cool person too. Okay, um, see you around!” MJ quickly turned around and walked away with her hands in her pockets. She had no clue that you watched her as she left with a hopeful smile on your face. 

Michelle did end up seeing you a lot at school. You always waved to her, no matter who you were surrounded by. She waved back and you two shared a knowing smile. Peter and Ned were stunned when Michelle voluntarily asked them if they could go to a football game with her. At the football game, Michelle tried to work up the courage to talk to you again but when she saw that you were surrounded by more of your friends than last time, she decided against it.

Then, on Coming Out Day, Michelle had the opportunity to talk to you again. You officially came out as bisexual, which had shocked the entire school as no cheerleader had ever come out in the school’s history. Michelle saw you at your locker and decided to congratulate you.

“Hey Y/n! It’s me, Michelle. Congrats on coming out!” You broke into your classic smile when you saw Michelle standing behind you.

After you closed your locker, you gave Michelle a big hug. Michelle was stunned by your gesture so you explained once you pulled away. “Thank you for inspiring me to come out! Remember how you came out last year? That really helped me come out this year.”

“Oh, wow that’s so sweet! Thank you so much,” Michelle was taken aback by your reply. Nobody had ever told her that she had an impact on their life, much less hank her for coming out as a lesbian. 

“Of course!” You beamed back. The bell rang, initiating the passing period before fifth period. Reluctantly, you two broke apart and as you began walking to your next class, you waved, “See you!”

“Yeah!” Michelle replied before practically skipping to her next class, joy overflowing in her heart. Her next class was geometry, a class that she despised being in and often slept in. But because of her interaction with you, Michelle was wide awake in her class and grinning while she doodled hearts in her notebook. Peter and Ned exchanged concerned glances, weirded out by MJ’s enthusiastic behavior; they figured it was because of you.

A few days later, you and MJ met in the parking lot of the school. Michelle was just about to drive home when she noticed you were standing by your car with your phone pressed against your ear, looking very distressed.

“Hey, are you okay?” Michelle asked carefully, approaching your car. You sighed, putting your phone down as you turned towards her. 

“Yeah, but my car isn’t. The insurance company is coming and my sister promised to handle all the technical stuff since insurance will probably get here around the time her rehearsal ends. I just need a ride home.”

Without thinking, Michelle offered, “I can give you a ride home if you’d like.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up with hope upon hearing her offer and when Michelle nodded in confirmation, you threw your arms around her in a tight embrace. This was the second time you had hugged her this week and if you kept giving her hugs, Michelle was going to melt into a puddle. “Thank you so much, Michelle!”

“You can call me MJ,” Michelle grinned as she opened the door to the passenger's seat for you.

“I like your nickname. It’s so cute! Thank you, MJ,” You smile in response and Michelle nearly drops her car keys due to the overload of emotions she experiences from your simple response. When MJ drives you home, you decide to have a conversation about the book ‘Turtles All the Way Down’ with her. From this conversation, you found out that you and MJ had a very similar taste in books. Who would have ever thought that the cheer captain and a lonely bookworm could have so much in common? 

Once MJ arrives at your house, she commented, “Your house is actually really close to mine. We live, like, one block away from each other.”

This sparked an idea and you took out a post-it note from your backpack and explained as you scribbled something down with sharpie, “In that case, here’s my number. I owe you a ride sometime since you gave me one today. Thank you so much again!”

MJ watched as you grabbed your backpack and bag of cheerleading gear before walking back to your house. Watching you disappear into your house, Michelle finally realized that she was developing a giant crush on you,

With the homecoming dance approaching, the majority of students were concerned about who they were going with. Michelle didn’t expect anybody to ask her and she wasn’t going to ask anybody out either, even though she desperately wanted to you out. 

That was until Ned ran up to you during lunch with an excited expression. “There are rumors that Y/n is turning down all offers to go to homecoming, from both boys and girls. People think it’s because she’s planning on asking somebody out to homecoming.”

Suddenly, you felt a surge of hope. What if the person you were planning on asking out was Michelle? Ever since Coming Out Day and the day Michelle gave you a ride home, Michelle’s relationship with you had been shifting slowly but surely. Michelle went to every single football game just so she could cheer you on and watch your routines. You talked with her after each football game and often times, Michelle would give you a ride home and playfully tease you about your pom-poms.

At the last football game before homecoming, Michelle was supporting you in the crowd as usual and there was an abrupt shift from the usual routines as the song changed from an upbeat, dance song to a slightly slower, romantic song. Your cheer teammates surrounded you and hoisted you up in a pyramid as you held up a sign that said, “MJ, Hoco with me?”

All eyes in the crowd turned away from the game and towards MJ as she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock. There’s only one extra second of hesitation before Michelle removed her hands from her mouth and cries, “Yes!”

This is how Michelle ended up never missing another school football game in her entire high school career.

~

check out my mj x reader masterlist or more marvel fics on my marvel page! comment to be added to my mj x reader taglist

Mj Taglist: @retrobhaddie @just-your-local-history-nerd​ @chickenstrips45 @vaginalstds @stop-drop-and-drumroll

[cmfan3]

Acceptance

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau X Emily Prentiss

Warning: Strong Language & Sensitive Topics Mentioned

Words: 2.8K

The team didn’t have a case so JJ and Emily were relaxing in their house, enjoying each other’s company as they watched a movie together. After years of consistently pining for each other, the team had enough and hatched a plan to get them together. Mainly because of Garcia’s insistence, the women have been dating for nearly two years and although they each had their own place, neither one could bear to stay away from the other for long, so they were currently living in Emily’s condo.

They were on the couch, JJ laying on top of the brunette, with their arms wrapped around each other as the movie played in the background. A resounding knock cut through the room, causing the two to share a look of confusion as they both got up, neither one expecting visitors. The blonde grabbed the TV remote and lowered the volume as Emily went to open the door.

JJ turned and began straightening the couch as she called out, “Emily, honey, who is it?” After not hearing a response, the younger woman walked out to see what was wrong and was shocked to find the Ambassador standing in the doorway with Emily gaping at her.

The Ambassador’s eyebrows scrunched together as she squinted her eyes in disbelief, “Emily dear, are you not going to invite me in?” The brunette, still in shock, didn’t respond but stepped aside and shut the door after her mother walked in. After a moment of standing at the door to compose her confusion, she walked over to the younger woman and stood next to her, desperate to feel her girlfriend’s presence.

Elizabeth clasped her hands together as she questioned, “now then, I heard her calling you ‘honey.’ What is she talking about and why is she calling you honey?” Realizing that her mother was speaking to her, Emily’s shock began to fade, “I’m sorry, what?” The Ambassador’s patience was beginning to wear thin as she spoke with disgust, “this woman called you honey. Why?”

Emily stood up straighter and stepped in front of the blonde but not before reaching back and grabbing her hand, intertwining their fingers, “this woman is my girlfriend, Jennifer.” Elizabeth paled as she digested the information before croaking out, “girlfriend? You like women?” The brunette stared at her mother, “I don’t like women. I love Jen.”

The Ambassador’s jaw clenched together and after a moment of silence, she answered, “do you not care about me and what this will do to my reputation? You liking women. What you need is a husband to set you straight.” Shocked, Emily scoffed, “I’m sorry, what?” Her mother threw her hands up as she began to raise her voice, “this will ruin my career Emily. This will ruin the Prentiss name and everything I’ve created. Why are you choosing to do this to me, your flesh and blood, your family, your mother?”

For a split second, all Emily saw was red before she felt a small squeeze on her hand, forcing her to look back and lock eyes with JJ, noticing the love that was shining through from the crystal blue eyes. She turned back to Elizabeth and spat, “this has nothing to do with you. Who I love isn’t a choice I make, it’s a feeling I can’t change and I love Jennifer. Who I am and who I love is none of your business, mother.”

“This has to be some sort of practical joke you’re playing and I have to say, it’s not quite that funny Emily. I gave birth to you. I raised you. I have given you everything you’ve ever asked for. And this is how you repay me? This is absurd and you should be ashamed of how you’re acting because it’s quite ridiculous,“ the Ambassador nearly shouted.

Emily’s frustration exploded, “you NEVER raised me. You were NEVER there. You NEVER even gave a shit about me. You only cared about how I made you look, so don’t start acting like you care because you never did. I lived my whole life without you in it and I definitely don’t need you in it now. So goodbye, Elizabeth.”

The Ambassador scoffed, “I’m your mother. If you think that I’m going to just stand here and let you speak to me in that manner then you’re clearly mista-”

JJ let go of her girlfriend’s hand as she stepped in front of her, shielding the brunette from her mother as she snapped, “don’t you dare finish that sentence. I don’t care if you’re the Ambassador or not. Get the fuck out of our house. You’ve clearly overstayed your welcome.” Elizabeth’s face flushed from anger as her mouth parted but nothing more came out. She huffed and whirled around, storming out of the door and slamming it shut behind her.

Emily’s eyes remained focused on the door as tears began to form, her body shaking slightly from the whole ordeal. JJ turned and gently enveloped her girlfriend into her arms, letting out a sigh of frustration. The brunette wrapped her arms around the younger woman’s torso, as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” Emily’s voice cracked. JJ pulled back slightly and looked at the older woman with concern etched into her features. Her heart shattered when hearing the sadness in her girlfriend’s voice, “for what?” Emily closed her eyes as her lip trembled, “for making you put up with this. You deserve so much better Jen.” “Oh Em,” JJ sighed lovingly as she reached up and grasped the brunette’s face and wiped away the tears with her thumb, “you’re the best I can have. I love you. I will always love you.”

Emily pressed further into the blonde’s palms, seeking comfort. JJ leaned in and placed a light kiss upon her girlfriend’s lips, the taste of the salty tears that had fallen prominent on her lips. The older woman hummed with satisfaction as they split before hugging her flush against her body and resting her chin on top of the younger woman’s head.

The two split and JJ smiled softly at the brunette, “why don’t you go back and play the movie? I just have to make a quick phone call and I’ll be right there, I promise.” Emily nodded slightly before leaning in and giving her girlfriend a quick peck on the cheek before heading back to the living room, her head filled with thoughts about what just happened.

The blonde stepped out of earshot as she pulled out her phone and dialed a number she knew by heart. After two rings, Garcia called out, “hey goldie locks, to what do I owe this fine pleasure?” JJ’s lips twitched in a smile at the new nickname, “the Ambassador just showed up.” “No, she didn’t,” the tech analyst gasped. The blonde sighed, “yea, she did. And to say it wasn’t pretty is definitely an understatement.”

Garica paused before she questioned, “what happened?” “She found out that we were dating and was upset with the fact that I was a woman. She kept talking about how Em doesn’t care about the Prentiss reputation and whatnot,” JJ concluded. “Oh my poor baby,” Garcia exclaimed, “give me fifteen minutes. I’ll be right there, don’t you worry.”

Before the younger woman had a chance to respond, the line was cut. She put her phone back in her pocket as she walked over to Emily who was sitting on the couch and had her eyes trained on the screen but her head seemed to be somewhere else. JJ sat down and placed her hand on the brunette’s thigh, squeezing it softly. Emily’s shoulders drooped as the blonde gathered her into her arms and ran her hand through the dark hair.

After roughly fifteen minutes of the two women comforting each other with nothing but contact, another knock was heard. Feeling her girlfriend tense up in her arms, JJ smiled softly as she placed a soft kiss on the top of her head before getting up and going to open the door.

Upon swinging the door open, she wasn’t surprised to see Penelope standing in the hallway, her arms full with a bottle of wine and multiple blankets. JJ let her in and the two walked back to where the brunette was still sitting on the couch. Emily’s eyes shot up to see who was knocking on the door and when she saw the colorful tech analyst, she turned towards her girlfriend, “Jen?”

“I called her. I thought you might need a bit of a pick-me-up and some support that wasn’t me,” the younger woman admitted with a small blush gathering on her cheeks. Garcia placed the wine on the table before throwing the blankets at the brunette and jumping onto the couch. She grasped Emily’s hands tightly, “I’m so sorry sweetcheeks. You don’t deserve any of this crap.”

JJ’s eyebrow lifted at the word, surprised that Garcia used it but ultimately decided to not say anything. She walked over and perched herself behind the older woman, resting her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder as her arms wrapped around her torso. Emily leaned back into the blonde’s embrace as she squeezed her friend’s hands.

Penelope let go of the brunette’s hands and reached over, grabbing the wine bottle off the table, “I’m here for you,” she shared a look with JJ, “we both are.” Emily smiled faintly at the two, “thanks PG.” The peppy woman patted the older woman’s hand, “no need to thank me. I love you E. We both do.” Emily nodded, indicating that she knew, “I love you guys too.”

“Now, we’re gonna talk about everything that happened and what you’re thinking and we better finish this wine. I’m not leaving until the entire bottle is done,” Garcia promised with a smirk. The two lovers shared a laugh at their friend’s antics.

Penelope popped open the cork as JJ ran into the kitchen to grab three wine glasses. While the tech analyst poured some into each glass, the blonde returned to her seat behind the older woman and grabbed one glass while using her other to wrap around her girlfriend.

Taking a tentative sip, Emily began, “honestly? I don’t even know where to start. I guess it just hurts. I know it shouldn’t because she was never even there, but it just does.” Penelope’s features softened at the confession while JJ reached up with her free hand and pushed the brunette hair away. She placed a soft kiss on the back of her girlfriend’s neck, causing chills to travel down Emily’s spine.

JJ set her glass down on the table and placed her chin on the older woman’s shoulder, “oh Em, of course it hurts. At the end of the day, she is your mother and of course you want her support.” The peppy woman nodded sympathetically as she took a sip from her glass, “she’s right sweetcheeks. But you have me and goldie locks over here and pretty boy and chocolate thunder and papa-”

Emily cut her off with a laugh, “I know I have you guys. All of you. And I love each and every one of you.” “We love you too,” Penelope took another sip of wine before continuing with a smirk, “maybe one of us more than others.” JJ laughed as she ran her fingers through the brunette hair lovingly, separating it into two sections. Emily closed her eyes and a smile ghosted her lips when she felt her girlfriend start braiding her hair.

Garcia threw back her glass and finished the wine before reaching out to grab the bottle to pour herself another glass before topping off the other two. She brought her legs up and crossed them under herself before reaching out to grab the older woman’s hand. She tilted her head and spoke softly, “you deserve the world E. I know it’s not the same, but you have us, all of us, and we aren’t going anywhere.”

Emily sighed, “I know I do, but I just wish she knew that it wasn’t a choice I can make. Who I love isn’t something I choose. I wish she supported me for once in my life.” As JJ finished off the first braid, she grabbed her glass and took a sip.

After a moment, she set the glass down and began on the other side, “who knows? Maybe all she needs is some time to process it because I think it’s safe to say she definitely wasn’t expecting it. But Em, she doesn’t deserve to be in your life if she doesn’t support you. It’s her loss.”

“I know and I’ll be ok, it just sucked. I mean that’s how I expected her to act, but I had a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would support me,” the brunette looked down at her glass, watching as her wine swirled around.

Noticing that her friend was beginning to lose herself in her mind, Penelope tugged on her hand slightly, jarring the older woman from her thoughts, “I don’t care if she’s the Ambassador, next time she pulls a stunt like that, I’m gonna destroy her credit scores and we’ll see what ruins her reputation.”

Emily let out a chuckle before putting her glass up to her lips and taking a few sips, “I love you PG, but there’s no need for that.” Penelope pouted, “aw come on. You’re taking away all my fun.” “Yeah Pen, there’s no need for that,” JJ winked at the tech analyst with a smile on her face as she finished off the second braid.

“Jayje,” Emily warned with a laugh. The blonde threw her hands up and feigned innocence as her girlfriend turned to look at her, “what?” The brunette smirked as she took another sip, “I know that tone, don’t you dare.” JJ let out a bark of laughter, “fine. We won’t do anything.” ”You’re taking away all my fun,” Penelope whined. Emily grinned as she finished off the last of her wine. The tech analyst reached for the bottle and was surprised to find it empty, “we finished it already?”

JJ raised her glass and finished hers off before standing and taking all the empty glasses and bottle to the kitchen. Penelope looked up at Emily, squeezing her hand, “are you sure you’re ok sweetcheeks?” The older woman nodded and squeezed her hands tightly, “thank you.”

“For you? Anytime,” Penelope turned and checked the clock, “it’s almost eleven? Time really does fly doesn’t it? But you’re gonna be ok, we’re all here for you.” “I know. I love you guys,” Emily reminded her with a yawn. The cheerful woman turned towards JJ, who was now walking into the living room, “this one is tired, you better get her to bed before she falls asleep here. I’m gonna head home you two.”

JJ questioned, “are you sure you don’t wanna stay the night?” Penelope shook her head with a smirk, “I’d rather let you two be alone. There is no need for me to hear what you do at night.” Emily became flustered as she turned crimson, “I- Penelope!” The tech analyst squealed with delight as she darted from the couch to the door, avoiding the friendly slap from the brunette.

Emily got up from the couch and walked over to the door with the younger woman in tow. The older woman hugged Penelope tightly, “thank you.” “You don’t need to keep thanking me E. I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” the two broke apart. JJ stepped forward and hugged her friend goodnight before Garcia turned and walked out the door.

Before turning the corner, she called out, “don’t do anything I would do.” Emily let out a chuckle before shutting the door, “sometimes, I wonder what goes through her head.” The corner of JJ’s mouth quirked up, “I guess we’ll never know.”

Emily turned towards the blonde, “thank you.” JJ’s smile faded and she tilted her head in confusion, “for what?” “For being there for me. For not leaving my side. For loving me,” the brunette explained. The younger woman stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Emily’s neck as the older woman gripped her hips, “always.” They both leaned in and shared a soft kiss, beaming as they broke apart.

JJ looked into the auburn eyes that were staring at her, “why don’t we go sleep? I think that was enough for one day, don’t you think?” The older woman nodded and followed her girlfriend to their bedroom where they both got dressed and climbed into bed. Emily opened her arms and JJ crawled into them, resting her head on the brunette’s chest as she listened to her heartbeat.

Their legs tangled together as JJ trailed her hand along the brunette’s side while Emily traced imaginary circles along her girlfriend’s back. The exhaustion from the ordeal hit both women. As JJ was on the verge of sleep, she was able to croak out, “I love you Em,” before her eyes shut and her breathing became even. Emily smiled as she whispered, “I love you too Jayje,” her heart full of love and affection for the woman in her arms, the incident of the day long forgotten.

[quickspinner]

Someone Like You

I recommend a bathroom break and a beverage (maybe peppermint tea) before you sit down to this one folks, it's kinda long. I keep trying to read this through 'one more time' to make sure I've done a clean edit and every time I end up adding a couple hundred words so I'm declaring it DONE and if there typos we'll all just live with it. I never catch them all anyway.  

Marinette was a people watcher. She always had been; it was kind of a professional requirement, in her own mind. There were fashion designers who didn’t notice people much, and in Marinette’s opinion, it always showed in their clothing. Marinette didn’t want to be that kind of designer, the kind that started hyperventilating if their models deviated from the standard look in the slightest, so she paid attention to the people around her—to their shapes, to their colors, to their styles. She’d seen so many interesting people since moving into her high rise apartment, and since she saw most of them at least a few times a week, she’d been able to learn more about them than the people she saw on the street. 

There was the plump lady with the big smile who lived a few doors from her whose hair was spiky purple but whose clothes were earth-toned and flowy. Marinette nicknamed her Allium in her mind after the flower. There was Cat Lady Carrie on the fourth floor, who always entered the elevator covered in multicolored cat fur as if she wore it with pride over her mostly black, but otherwise extremely practical, wardrobe. There was Workout Maniac Kim from the seventh floor, who had a peppy greeting for everyone and was always wearing gym shorts except on the very coldest days, when he condescended to wear sweatpants. Marinette hadn’t been sure why he rode the elevator at all until a chance comment during one of their short conversations revealed that he had an old knee injury that made stairs difficult for him.

Today when the elevator stopped on its journey to the ground, the doors opened on The Boy From The Sixth Floor, which was kind of a stupid name, but even after a couple of months of running into him, she hadn’t come up with anything better, because she had trouble picking one thing that defined him. He was tall, with pierced ears and shaggy black hair dyed blue at the tips. He usually kept his gaze on the floor, but he always made eye contact briefly as he greeted her or when he uttered his polite, “Have a good day,” on his way out of the elevator, so she knew his eyes were blue. His wardrobe varied a lot; he clearly wasn’t someone who adhered to any particular capital-S style, and he just wore what he liked, but almost always in layers, dominated by shades of blue and black and white, and almost always with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He had a narrow build and slightly slumped shoulders, but she could see strength in his bare forearms, accented by the thick bracelets he wore on one wrist.

Marinette was curious about him but he seemed—not shy exactly, but hesitant, reserved, like he enjoyed quiet, and it made her less willing to strike up a conversation with him than others. People like him probably thought people like her were boring, anyway, so aside from polite eye contact when one of them was entering or exiting, Marinette tried to keep her eyes forward and not bother him with her presence. It did mean she never got a good look at the tattoos extending from beneath his sleeves down to the backs of his hands, which was a shame. Marinette didn’t have any tattoos herself but they fascinated her as an art form. She was herself in the business of decorating the human body, after all, just...less permanently. She had toyed briefly with the idea of a clothing line that featured openings in the most common tattoo locations, but it would be a hard sell to the higher ups, so she had shelved the idea. Probably no one would be interested in such a thing anyway, right?

“Evening,” he said quietly, as he stepped onto the elevator, his blue eyes flicking to hers and then away quickly.  He always spoke softly, and his voice was smooth and pleasant. She smiled politely and nodded in response to his greeting as he moved to the other corner and leaned one shoulder against the wall. He had an instrument case slung over his shoulder, but Marinette didn’t get a good look at it. That explained the slight slouch, she observed, if he was used to carrying something like that around. She remembered he frequently had earbuds around his neck when he came in. Not a big deal, many people did, but if he was a musician that would make sense. His t-shirts had a lot of band logos on them, too, now that she came to think of it. Interesting.

Marinette was so lost in thought that she was caught completely off guard when the elevator suddenly jerked, moved and then jerked again, She tried to take a step to steady herself but the pencil skirt she was wearing didn’t allow her legs to go as wide as she tried to plant them, and she tipped over with a yelp.

Her companion moved to catch her, and she fell into his chest as he got one arm under her and grabbed the railing with his other hand to steady them both. He was strong, Marinette thought thankfully, half bent over the arm around her waist that was the only thing keeping her from falling. She grabbed onto him automatically as the elevator shuddered again.

The jolting only lasted a moment before they ground to a halt, but they both stood braced for another several seconds, waiting for...something. Marinette had time to notice there was a protectiveness in the way he held her.  It would have been nice, if she wasn’t scared out of her mind.

Both of them relaxed at the same time, apparently convinced that...whatever had happened, was over.

“You okay?” he asked in his soft voice, putting his hands on her upper arms and gently pushing her upright.

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, looking at the ceiling of the elevator as if it had answers. “What was that?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered, looking around as well. “But it sounds like we’re not moving anymore.”

Marinette made a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. She didn’t even realize her fingers were still clutching the fabric of his jacket until he took her hands in his and gently unhooked them.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, snatching her hands back quickly and moving back to her side of the elevator. “Um, thanks for catching me.” God, how embarrassing.

“No worries.” He crossed to the control panel and pressed the alarm button. The response they got from maintenance wasn’t encouraging. They weren’t sure what had happened but they were sending a technician to check the pulley system.

“At least it’s not a power outage,” he said, sounding like he was speaking more to himself than Marinette, “So we still have climate control and ventilation.” They both stood there stupidly for a moment before he made a slight oh well gesture with his arms, and then sat down and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

“I guess we might as well get comfortable,” he sighed, taking off his jacket and the hoodie he wore underneath it, leaving him in a ripped white t-shirt. “My name’s Luka,” he said, drawing his knees up and setting his elbows across them. “Do you feel comfortable telling me yours?”

“Oh,” Marinette said, a little surprised by his phrasing. “It’s um, Marinette.” Reluctantly, she slipped off her heels and leaned back against the elevator wall with a sigh, gripping the rail a little too tightly.

“Marinette,” Luka smiled, taking his phone out of his pocket and beginning to type, presumably to text whoever he was supposed to be meeting. “That’s pretty.” He glanced up at her. “You look nervous. Are you scared of closed spaces or is it me?”

“What?” Marinette’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, it’s not you at all! Or, well, not anything about you specifically. I’d be just as nervous with anyone else. It’s not even really the space, I’m just...kind of a nervous person in general. Always lots of energy, and not too many outlets for it. I’m sorry if I made you think that.” She released her death grip on the rail and dug in her bag for her own phone, figuring she’d better let Alya know about her situation.

Luka smiled. “You just seemed uncomfortable, and sometimes people like you are a little freaked out by people like me.” He made a gesture that indicated his dyed hair and piercings.

“Oh, no, no, you look good,” Marinette said quickly, and then backpedaled, horrified at herself. “I mean, I like your look, it suits you! That’s what fashion should be about, expressing yourself.” She smoothed down her skirt absently. “Just because I’m me and you’re you doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Luka’s smile spread slowly across his face. “I’m glad you think so. Are you sure you don’t want to sit down? I can move a little if you need more space.”

Marinette flushed. “I’m fine. Really.”

Luka raised his eyebrows. He looked her over for a moment and then nodded as though he understood something. “I can look the other way while you get situated if you want.”

Marinette’s face burned and she covered her red cheeks with her hands. “Would you mind?”

“Of course not.” Luka faced the wall, which thankfully wasn’t mirrored, and Marinette got down on her knees on the floor and tried to find a position that wouldn’t have her skirt riding up her thighs every time she moved. She let out a frustrated huff.

“Of course I decided to wear a skirt today,” she muttered. “Of course.”  She took off her cropped jacket and spread it across her knees, but it was too small to really help much. Still, it was the best she could do.

“Okay, you can look now,” she sighed.

Luka turned around. Seeing her situation, he picked up his hoodie and offered it to her.

“Thank you,” Marinette said gratefully, accepting it. It was large enough to almost totally cover her legs no matter how she sat. “That’s much better.”

He smiled. “The situation sucks as it is. I don’t want either of us to be any more uncomfortable than necessary.”

Marinette smiled back, the first genuine smile she had managed since the elevator ground to a halt. “You’re very thoughtful, Luka.”

All he said was a soft, “thank you,” but Marinette thought he was blushing just a little. It was...sweet.

It gave her the courage to say, after a few minutes of silence, “Were you heading anywhere important?”

“Band practice,” Luka said, nodding at the instrument case beside him.

“Oh, what do you play?” Marinette asked, craning her neck to see the case.

“Electric guitar,” Luka said, shifting a little so she could see it better.

“That’s so cool,” Marinette said brightly. “I played the flute when I was a kid but I never really had a passion for it. What kind of music? How long have you been playing?”

“Practically my whole life,” Luka smiled.

Marinette gasped. “Sorry! Am I talking too much? I told you, too much energy and not enough outlet for it, and pretty soon it all goes to running my mouth, but we can be quiet if you’d rather—“

She stopped as Luka began to laugh quietly, one hand covering his mouth. His fingernails were painted a shiny black, she noticed.

“You’re funny, Marinette,” Luka grinned. “You were fine, I don’t mind talking. But tell me about you, if that’s okay.”

“Me?” Marinette blinked. “Oh, I’m...well I’m not that interesting, really.” Not like he was,

Luka hmmed. “Tell me anyway. You know my passion’s music, what’s yours?”

Something about the intent way he was looking at her made her face feel warm. “Um, fashion design,” she said shyly, sure it would sound shallow to someone like Luka.

“Really,” he said, eyebrows raising slightly. “My sister models part time.”

“I—oh, really?” Marinette managed not to gape at him but it was a near thing.

“Yeah, she’s been doing it for a few years now.” Luka pulled out his phone again and fiddled with it for a moment, and then offered it to Marinette. She took it and looked curiously at the photo. Luka was standing with a girl with striking amber brown eyes and long black hair. She was clearly made up and styled for a runway show. Luka had his arm around her shoulders and though his posture was relaxed as always, he had an adorably over-enthusiastic wide smile and his eyes were lit up with pride. His sister had an indulgent smile on her face that clearly said my brother is a dork and I adore him.

“Oh!” Marinette gasped. “I’ve seen her with you before, I thought she was your—” she stopped, and blushed.

“Girlfriend?” Luka smiled, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, we’ve gotten that before because we’re so close in age and we don’t look much alike. Juleka looks more like our mom and I, unfortunately, got Dad’s genes.”

“It’s not unfortunate, you’re really cute!” Marinette scolded, speaking thoughtlessly in her anger at him putting himself down. She couldn’t stand to hear people talk badly about themselves. Luka looked down at the floor between his knees, presumably to hide the smirk she could still see the corner of.

“Well,” he said, not looking at her. “Thanks, but...still no girlfriend, just an awesome kid sister.”

“You’re so cute together,” Marinette continued in a rush, hoping to brush past the awkwardness. “I mean, now that I understand the relationship I can totally see how much you care about each other!” Marinette looked at the picture again and giggled. “You’re really proud of her aren’t you? It looks like you guys are close.”

“We are,” Luka said simply, taking his phone back when she handed it to him and swiping through a few more pictures. “And I am proud of her. She had some major hurdles but she kept chasing her dreams.” He turned the phone back to her, showing her another picture of his sister, this time clearly a professional shot.

“Her eyes are amazing,” Marinette observed.

“So are yours,” Luka commented, and then they both looked up, perhaps equally startled at his statement. She could see him swallow as his cheeks tinted pink.

“Thank you,” Marinette said with a smile, deciding to save him from the clear indecision he was suffering between trying to say something else, perhaps to play it off, and keeping his mouth shut lest he make it worse. It was a worry she was very familiar with, after all. “So she’s been modeling a while? I don’t remember her but you see so many models, you know, and I’m always looking at the clothes. With eyes like that, she should really try cosmetic ads, she’d be killer.”

Luka smiled, an affectionate look on his face. “Her agent’s looking into that, actually.”

“Awesome!” Marinette clapped her hands. “Oh, she’ll be amazing! You’ll have to let me know which ad campaigns she works with so I can check them out!” Luka’s smile broadened into a grin, and for once his gaze remained steady on her.

Suddenly self-conscious, Marinette reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and smooth the rest back. She’d lost a few strands out of her bun during the elevator-quake, it seemed, and they were tickling her neck. Luka looked away quickly and cleared his throat, but he asked, “So do you design professionally, or just for fun?”

“Both,” Marinette answered, still a little fluttered. “I mean, I work at a design firm but I’m just starting out, so I don’t do as much actual design as I hope to in the future. Right now it’s a lot of sewing and altering and trying to find tactful ways to suggest that maybe my boss has lost her mind every once in a while.”

Luka covered his chuckle with his hand. “That’s an important job.”

“I also run a boutique business online for custom commissions,” Marinette continued, smiling a little herself. “It means I’m working a lot, but it keeps the creativity alive even when my job makes me feel like a soulless drone.”

Luka laughed—not loud, but a full laugh and not just a quiet chuckle. Marinette found herself smiling, pleased with her accomplishment.

“You’re funny, Marinette,” Luka said again, his smile warm, not at all like the cool politeness she was used to from him.

He...really was cute when he smiled like that. And his eyes were nice—softer than she’d realized before.

A silence descended that wasn’t quite awkward but wasn’t quite comfortable, either, like neither of them wanted the conversation to stop, but neither knew exactly where to take it from here, either.

Marinette took a breath, bit her lip, and then plunged onward. “Do you, um...do you want to see some of my work? Since we don’t have anything else to do...”

Luka brightened. “Yeah, I’d love to!”

Marinette, still smiling, tucked that loose strand of hair back again and reached for her bag. She pulled out her sketchbook and set it aside, and then pulled out the portfolio that had been underneath it and shyly offered it to Luka. He took it and then hesitated a moment before gesturing to the space next to her. “May I?”

“Mmhmm!” Marinette made a token shift to the side as Luka got on his knees and shuffled over to the space beside her. He settled next to her, his arm brushing hers slightly but only because the elevator just wasn’t all that wide. He smelled nice, she thought absently as he opened her portfolio across his lap. It occurred to her to be glad she was stuck in the elevator with someone clean. She leaned closer for a second to reposition her legs; one was starting to fall asleep tucked under her as it was. With Luka’s hoodie to keep her covered she could sit more comfortably.

“I like your perfume,” Luka commented. “Subtle. It’s nice.” Then he glanced up with a slightly startled look on his face, like his mouth had gotten ahead of him—a feeling she was very familiar with. “Sorry, was that weird?” he asked with a slight hunch of his shoulders and a lopsided grin. “It’s just—there’s a girl on my floor that wears way too much and I was just thinking I’m glad I’m not here with her.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “The one with the yellow designer jacket and super expensive sunglasses?”

Luka grinned. “I’ve never noticed the sunglasses but yeah, the jacket’s um...hard to miss.”

Marinette smiled. “It would be awful to be stuck in here with her. Sometimes I can barely stand it until we get to the lobby. And honestly, I was just thinking I’m glad I’m here with someone like you and not, like, Kim fresh from a workout. I mean, he’s a nice guy, but…” She shrugged, wrinkling her nose.

Luka chuckled, then cleared his throat and looked back to her portfolio. He didn’t say anything as he went through it, but he studied each sketch and its paired photographs with great care. Marinette fell to examining the tattoos on the arm nearest her, finally able to indulge her interest, especially since the t-shirt covered considerably less than his outer layers and bared parts of the tattoo she hadn’t even glimpsed before. The design flowed along the lines of his arm nicely, each individual element clearly considered in light of the entire piece. The music themes didn’t surprise her but the nautical ones did. There was a compass rose in particular that she found very interesting, with symbols at each cardinal point that surely meant something to him.

“These are amazing, Marinette.” She was so lost in her thoughts that his gentle voice made her jump. Luka turned back several pages from the end. “I really like this one.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, surprised.

“Well, it’s not my personal style,” Luka smiled without looking up from the page. “But I can see the art in it. It’s very evocative. When I look at it, I feel like I know something about the person you made it for. And that’s what you were saying, right? Fashion should be about expressing yourself. I feel like this one is really true to that intention. It might not express me as a person, but it does express someone and I love that about it.”

Marinette stared at him in surprise for so long that Luka looked up to meet her eyes. She’d been leaning in to look at the book in his lap and when he raised his head his face was suddenly closer to her than she expected.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, and she jerked back slightly.

“No, no, not at all. I’m—that’s great, what you said, that makes me really happy. I guess I didn’t expect you to be so thoughtful about it.”

Luka tilted his head slightly, a bit of amusement flickering across his expression. “Just because my art isn’t your art doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it, once you show me how. I mean, I’ll admit,” he looked back down at the portfolio, “There’s a lot here I don’t understand, and even though I feel like I could describe this person, I’m not sure I’d be able to articulate why I felt that way. But, you know, that’s how we learn about each other, right?” He smiled that warm smile at her again and Marinette felt her pulse speeding up as her face heated.

“Sorry, am I too much?” he asked, leaning back a little. “Juleka says I’m too intense sometimes.”

“I don’t mind it,” Marinette said, smiling shyly. “I like it.”

There was no doubt that color washed his cheeks this time, and for a moment his expression clearly showed how pleased he was before he looked down and closed the portfolio, smoothing the pages carefully so nothing wrinkled. “You can tell me if I’m overstepping, but...is that new stuff you’ve been working on?” Luka indicated her sketchbook.

“Oh! Yes, it is,” Marinette said, picking it up and holding it to her.

“Would you be willing to share it with me?” Luka asked. “I’m really curious. Only if you’d be comfortable though, no pressure.”

“You really want to see?” Marinette asked, and she pursed her lips for a moment when he nodded. “I don’t mind,” she said slowly. “But...I need you to put your phone where I can see it. I have some client work in here that I can’t allow to get out, and I can’t tell you who it’s for. One set of eyes is no big deal, but I can’t have pictures going out or they’d never work with me again.”

Luka blinked at her for a moment, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled, taking it. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I can’t risk my client’s privacy based on my intuition.”

“I understand,” Luka said with a slightly lopsided smile, “And we did just meet, after all. It would be completely reasonable for you not to trust me.”

Marinette just smiled and set his phone carefully on the floor where he could reach it, but not without her seeing. Then she offered her sketchbook to him. Luka took it with one hand, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“You sure? I don’t have to look at the whole thing, you can just pick what you want to show me.”

Marinette shrugged. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Like I said, one set of eyes won’t matter, and I don’t think you’re going to sit here and memorize anything just to steal my designs,” she teased, leaning over to bump her shoulder against his.

“Hardly,” Luka chuckled, running his fingers lightly over the cover of the book before opening it.

Luka went over the pages of the sketchbook with the same attention he’d given her portfolio. A couple of times he smiled, and Marinette peeked around him to see what he was looking at. One was a page where the design had just been a total failure and she had written some unkind things about the inventor of that particular fabric in the margin. One was a cutesy, flirty outfit she’d designed for herself. Luka darted a glance at her, murmured, “I like the ruffles,” and turned the page, that hint of pink back on his cheeks.

He paused a long time on the commission she had been trying to safeguard, but that didn’t surprise her, as it probably had the most in common with his own aesthetic. She was, however, completely surprised by what came out of his mouth as he poured over the design.

“Jagged Stone,” Luka said absently, eyes still glued to the page.

“W-what?” Marinette stammered.

“This stuff, it makes me think of Jagged St—” He looked up, catching Marinette’s expression. She wasn’t sure what kind of face she was making. Certainly on the inside she was too mixed up to settle on one. Horror, fear, delight, admiration, hilarity—she couldn’t seem to decide how to react. “Holy shit,” Luka said, his eyes traveling over her face. “Your mystery client is Jagged fucking Stone?”

“Um…” Marinette said slowly, “I...can’t confirm that.”

“You don’t have to,” Luka said, still staring at her. “There’s no one else alive with Jagged’s style, and this—” He held up the sketchbook, turning it toward her. “It can’t be anyone else, Marinette. I’ve been following Jagged Stone’s career since I was old enough to pronounce his name.”

Marinette bit her lip, and sighed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she nearly begged. “If it is Jagged, and I’m not saying it is, I can’t let this get out, I’d have to scrap everything and start over, if he’d even still want to have me—”

“Of course, of course,” Luka said, putting the sketchbook down quickly and taking her hand between both of his. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Of course I’d never say anything, not that anyone would likely believe me if I did. And Jagged would be crazy to fire you. Uh, if it actually was Jagged you worked for,” he added hurriedly. “But I mean, Marinette, look at this.” He let go of her hand and picked up the sketchbook again. “You get him. This is so original, it’s not like anything he’s ever worn before, and yet it’s so Jagged at the same time, I’m just—I’m blown away, really.”

“You...really think so?” Marinette asked hesitantly. “You like it? You think Jagged will like it?”

“He’s eccentric, not stupid, so yeah, I know he will.” Luka sighed, looking back down at the book. “Man, I wish we could get a designer for our band with even half your talent. Is this one for an album cover? No, never mind, you probably can’t tell me that.”

“Tell me about your band,” Marinette said, drawing up her knees under his hoodie and wrapping her arms around her legs. “Have you been playing with them long?”

“Individually I have,” he said, still looking through her sketchbook. “But we just decided to group up a couple months ago. I’ve played with a few other bands and they were all cool people but I never quite clicked with them the way I have with Kitty Section.” He chuckled. “Helps that Juleka’s our bassist, and her girlfriend does our vocals, and then Rose has been friends with our drummer since they were kids. I think maybe that’s why we vibe together so well.”

“That’s your band name, Kitty Section?”

“Yes. It’s pretty much all we’ve got right now, plus a few songs I’ve written. We haven’t been together long enough to put a look and a brand together. Not like these,” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned a page. He hadn’t lifted his eyes once the whole time he’d spoken. “You are really good at what you do, Marinette.”

Marinette blushed hotly. When she showed her designs to laypeople, she was used to being told she was “talented” like she hadn’t worked hard and studied to get her skills where they were, or that she was “creative” like it was something she did without thought or purpose. She liked Luka’s compliment better.

“Wait, did you say you wrote the songs?” she asked, eyes widening slightly.

“Well, I write the melodies,” Luka replied, resting his chin on his hand as he turned the page. “Rose mostly does the lyrics. I work a lot easier with music than words. I have a feeling or a thought that I want to express, I work it out in the music, and then Rose takes the demo I give her and puts words to it. Usually she’s pretty spot on in a kinda metaphorical way.” He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “If I don’t love it, we go back and forth until we get something we’re happy with.”

“Do you, um...do you have any of your music with you?” Marinette asked.

Luka looked up, startled. “Uh, yeah, I’ve got some on my phone. Just some tracks we recorded ourselves, though, nothing like, professional.”

“Can I listen?”

Luka looked like she’d just handed him a million bucks and Jagged’s autograph. “Really? I mean, sure, let me—” He started to reach for his phone, and then closed the sketchbook and handed it back to her. Marinette took it gratefully, and Luka picked up his phone and queued up the music. “It’d sound better if I had better speakers,” he muttered almost to himself as he set the phone back in the place Marinette had put it before.

Marinette gave the sketchbook back to him, leaned back and closed her eyes, listening to the music. It was...eclectic. She almost would have said that the band was still finding its sound, but it didn’t feel like that. It just felt like they embraced a wide reading of their genre. There was a really fun song about unicorns and cats and…

Marinette’s eyes flew open and she dug in her bag for her pencil case. Then she plucked her sketchbook out of Luka’s hands and turned to a blank page.

“Marinette?” Luka asked, sounding slightly bewildered though she didn’t look up at him to see.

“Can you play that last one again?” Marinette asked distractedly, setting her pencil moving across the page.

“Yeah, sure,” Luka said, still sounding puzzled as he reached for the phone.

“Put it on repeat one please.”

“Okay...”

Marinette began writing. First the name of the band, then phrases that jumped out at her from the songs, then words the music called to mind, then words that described Luka himself. Shapes and colors swirled around in her mind as she wrote, and then she began to sketch. She heard Luka’s intake of breath beside her but forgot it before she could even glance up.

She paused here and there, swapping out colored pencils and bobbing her head to the rhythm while she thought, but she kept a nice, smooth creative flow. It was easy, designing free form like this, not having to worry about making it look like her design house’s style, or even Jagged’s, just...creating something wholly new. It was nice. It was fun.

When she sat back with a sigh, stretching her cramping fingers, she realized Luka had moved back across from her and his guitar was in his lap.

“You’ve been playing?” Marinette asked, blinking. How had she not noticed that?

Luka smiled, and swept his pick down the strings, sending a muted series of notes into the small space. “Just playing along with the song. It doesn’t sound that great without an amp but at least this way I get a little practice. You were clearly in the zone and I didn’t want to be in the way. And...to be honest I had to do something or I’d have burned a hole through you with my eyes. Are you finished? Can I see?”

“I—oh.” Marinette looked down at her work and blushed. “Yeah, I...you know it’s probably stupid, we didn’t even talk about what you were looking for, but you know, I heard the song and I had the idea and—well it made sense at the time. It’s probably all wrong, though,” she sighed, holding the sketchbook to her chest. “I mean, without a proper consultation…I haven’t even met your other band members, just you, and…”

“May I see?” Luka asked, reaching toward the sketchbook but not touching either it, or her. “I mean, I tried not to watch, I didn’t know if you’d want me to, but what I did see—please?” He gave her the most irresistible puppy eyes she’d ever seen on a grown man.

She giggled and looked down. Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She always had this moment, after an initial sketch was finished, this sudden conviction that everything she’d just done was awful, but she’d learned to ignore it, to just suck it up and hand over the design and let the client decide. She offered the sketchbook to Luka with a nervous smile.

He took it, his eyes lingering on her as he turned it to face him, and then he looked down at the sketch and sucked in his breath.

Marinette bit her lip hard in an attempt not to babble all the disclaimers, pushing that stupid piece of hair back again, and waited, tense.

When he finally spoke, it was so softly she barely heard him. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, laying his long fingers on the page next to her sketch. “You got all of this just—just from the music?” He looked up at her and she swore for an instant there were stars in his eyes. “You’re amazing, Marinette. I don’t think...I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten my music like this except Juleka.”

“Not just from the music,” she said, her own voice hushed to match his, unable to tear her eyes away when he looked at her like that. “From you, too. I mean we only talked today, but I’ve seen you around lots, so I took your style and...amplified it. Played it up.” She shrugged, cutting herself out before she could start babbling.

“You noticed me?” Luka blinked, and Marinette burst out laughing.

“Of course I did, you’re hard to miss.”

“Right,” Luka looked embarrassed and turned his face away. “I—”

He was interrupted by a buzz and a voice from the emergency panel. “Okay, hang on folks, we think we fixed the problem. We’re bringing you to the ground floor now. It’ll be a bit slower than usual, but I assure you that’s entirely normal and you’re in no danger.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” Luka snorted softly. They shared a grin, and began gathering up their things. Luka stood up and offered her a hand. She accepted, letting him pull her to her feet. He politely looked away as she tugged down her skirt and settled it back into place. She gave him back his hoodie and slipped her little cropped jacket back on, stepping carefully back into her pumps.  

“It might not have been the greatest outfit for sitting on the floor,” Luka observed, darting her a shy smile as he put his coat back on and ducked under the strap of his guitar case. “But you look really cute in it.”

Marinette giggled, blushing, and Luka chuckled through his nose, grinning at the floor. The elevator started moving with a gentle bump and slowly began to descend. Marinette grabbed Luka’s sleeve reflexively, and turned apologetic but pleading eyes up at him. He chuckled and removed her hand only to wrap his own around it and squeeze tightly. They stood there, each with their free hand gripping the rail as they held onto the elevator and each other for dear life. Neither of them let go until the elevator doors began to slide open.

When they finally stepped off the elevator, Marinette hugged the maintenance tech waiting there impulsively. “Oh, thank you!”

“Er,” the elderly man said, patting her back awkwardly. “Happy to help, ma’am. You um...you’re okay?” Marinette straightened to see the man was looking over her shoulder at Luka suspiciously.

“Oh, yes, Luka’s a perfect gentleman,” Marinette said, beaming back at her new friend. He blushed. She looked back at the maintenance tech and giggled. “Maybe a little shy, though.”

The tech chuckled, relaxing, and shook Luka’s hand amiably when Luka stepped forward to thank him for getting them out.

Luka and Marinette drifted towards the lobby doors slowly, both clearly trying to think of something to say.

“You know, I can still make it to practice before it ends,” Luka said, checking the time. “I was heading out early to work on some stuff, so the others will just be warming up now. Would you—I mean,” he shuffled his feet a little, “I’d love it if you could come with me. You could meet the rest of the band and show them your ideas. I’m still not sure we could afford you, but maybe we could work something out. I can’t imagine Ivan’s terribly attached to his kidney.”

Marinette giggled. “Well,” she sighed, checking the time herself. “My girls’ dinner is definitely cancelled, and I honestly have zero desire to get back in that elevator right now—or climb up eight floors in these,” she added, lifting one small foot and putting it back down with a click. “So...sure, why not?”

“We can grab something to eat after,” Luka suggested. “Or on the way,” he amended with a grin when Marinette’s stomach growled. Marinette moaned and put her hand over her face, but then she peeked at him between her fingers and giggled. Honestly, it was kind of hard to be embarrassed in front of him after they’d been camped out on an elevator floor for two hours. He’d tried so hard to make sure she was comfortable, he’d been interested in her work, he had thoughtful and insightful things to say, and his music was amazing…and there was still so much she didn’t know about him, like the nautical tattoos or what his plans were for his music...

Her breath caught when she saw he was giving her that look again, like...like he really thought she was the greatest thing to ever walk the earth.

It was...really nice to be looked at like that, she was finding. She could get used to it.

“Dinner sounds good,” she said, probably a little later and definitely a little squeakier than she should have, and his smile made her knees weak.

They ended up grabbing crepes from a street vender just to take the edge off, because neither of them wanted Luka to be any later to practice than necessary. Eating quickly on the way to the metro, Marinette promptly tripped over an uneven place in the sidewalk, pitching forward with a gasp. Luka caught her arm and steadied her, and then offered his. Marinette slipped her hand through his elbow and they shared a smile.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Marinette, she told herself, trying to calm the flutters in her stomach with a deep breath. It didn’t matter; another soft look from him as they got on the train was enough to undo all her efforts.

His practice space was only a short ride away, in a club that was only open on weekends. Luka explained that Rose knew the owner and he let them rent the space for weekday practices as long as they cleaned up after themselves.

She hesitated at the door and Luka looked at her. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she tried to say brightly. “I’m fine, it’ll be fine.”

Luka turned away from the door to face her. “Why are you nervous?”

“It’s nothing,” Marinette said, embarrassed. “It’s just, I’m…” she gestured vaguely at herself. Luks just raised his eyebrows. “Boring,” she finished, shuffling awkwardly. “Compared to a metal band, I—I’m just not—“

She frowned when Luka turned away from her and covered his mouth, and Marinette blinked for a moment before she realized he was laughing at her.  He cleared his throat and turned back to the door, pulling it open for her and gesturing her through. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said, not quite able to keep a straight face as he said it.

Marinette pursed her lips and went inside, trying not to pout.

“Hey guys,” Luka said, in answer to the chorus greeting him from the stage. He set his guitar case on a table and opened it. “Sorry I got held up. This is Marinette.” He offered his hand to Marinette and led her forward into the light from the stage. “Marinette, this is Rose—“

“Hi Marinette! Nice to meet you!”

“Ivan—“

“Hey.”

“And my sister, Juleka.”

Juleka smiled and gave a little wave.

“Just have a seat anywhere you’re comfortable,” Luka smiled at her. “We’ll try to keep you entertained.” He gave her a wink and a grin and then headed for the stage.

Juleka punched him lightly in the arm as he passed her, and he looked at her, and they seemed to have some kind of conversation without words. Luka snorted softly and shook his head, the lights on the stage clearly illuminating his blush, and Juleka smirked.

Luka got into place and got his guitar settled and plugged in. It was hard to describe the way he changed as he mounted the stage. Even with the guitar strap over his shoulder, the slouch was gone, as was the perpetually sleepy look in his eyes. Then he looked up at her and gave her a grin that made her insides feel like jelly, made only worse when his quiet but strong voice said, “Let’s do this.”

They were so much fun to watch, Marinette thought. They all had such distinct personalities, and they clearly loved what they were playing. Juleka moved with a fluid elegance that was entrancing to watch, while Rose was bursting with energy. Ivan looked big and slow but his drumsticks kept perfect time, and Marinette adjusted her mental image to a charging bull rather than a plodding steer.

And Luka was—well she couldn’t look too long at Luka. His stage smirk, as she began to think of it, scattered her thoughts completely every time their eyes met. He was contained, poised like his sister, but all the little tricks she now realized he used to tone down his natural intensity were gone. His presence on stage was powerful and she found it...extremely appealing. To put it mildly.

Sexy, Alya’s voice giggled in her mental ear, but Marinette crossed her legs primly and got out her sketchbook. She began making adjustments and additions to her designs, focusing on the other band members since she didn’t know them. She pondered each one of them thoughtfully, and by the time they came down off stage, she had several more pages filled with ideas.

Luka gathered the band around the table and asked Marinette to show them what she’d been working on. It wasn’t exactly the sort of pre-planned client presentation she was used to, but she did her best. Her nervousness quickly faded in the face of their enthusiasm. Her eyes flickered to Luka, who just smiled, not quite looking at her. “Told you,” he murmured. Marinette kind of wanted to pinch him.

“Don’t worry about it for now,” Marinette waved dismissively when the subject of payment came up. “As long as we can cover materials up front, I can cut you a deal on the commission price. We can work out a payment schedule or whatever. I have to be able to take a passion project now and then or I’ll go crazy.” Her eyes might have flickered shyly towards Luka when she said it. He hadn’t said much, but Marinette was aware the entire time of Luka’s eyes on her. Juleka was clearly aware of it too, and looked highly amused by the situation. Marinette blushed and Luka sighed whenever one or the other caught Juleka smirking at them.

“Might want to turn down the smoulder, bro,” Juleka leaned in and murmured to him at one point, just barely audible to Marinette. “You’re looking at her like she’s a new guitar you can’t wait to play.”

“Jules, I love you, but I swear on Mom’s guitar I will murder you right here if you don’t shut the hell up,” he muttered back.

Rose leaned in and loudly asked a long-winded question, kindly giving Marinette a chance to recover from her unintentional eavesdropping.

“We’re heading out,” Luka announced finally, standing up and offering Marinette his hand. “We haven’t eaten and I think I owe Marinette dinner at the least for all of this.”

“Sure,” Juleka murmured, her voice even softer than her brother’s and laced with amusement. “That’s totally the reason.”

“Well,” Luka said, looking down into Marinette’s face, “Maybe not the only reason.” Marinette blushed as Ivan oohed and Rose put two fingers in her mouth and whistled at them. Luka chuckled. “Bye guys.”

“Don’t screw it up,” Juleka said as he bent and kissed the top of her head. “I can’t take you moping for weeks.”

“You two have a good tiiiiime,” Rose sing-songed as she waved goodbye. “Don’t stay out too late!” She whisper shouted, “Text us and let us know if you kiss!” She squealed and grabbed Juleka’s arm. “He likes her so much, it’s so cute!”

Ivan gave them two thumbs up. “Good luck, dude!”

Luka waved them off with a good-natured “Whatever,” and put his hand against Marinette’s lower back, guiding her to the door.

“Sorry about them,” he said, with a one-shouldered shrug that said, what can you do?

Marinette giggled. “They like giving you a hard time, don’t they?”

“Well,” he sighed as he opened the door. “I can’t be too mad about it. It’s not like they’re wrong.” He grinned as he motioned for her to go ahead of him.

Marinette did, her head held high, though she was biting her lip to contain her smile. Despite her embarrassment, she was enjoying the attention he paid her.

They found a restaurant and grabbed a table near the back. She finally asked about his tattoos as they ate and Luka moved to the chair next to her, slipping off his hoodie and coat and even lifting the sleeve of his t-shirt so she could see better as he talked about them. He told her about growing up on a houseboat with his mother and the trips they would take together while she not-so-subtly admired the arm he was not-so-subtly flexing. She told him about her family and what it was like growing up with her parents trying to run the business.

“You were amazing on stage,” Marinette said eventually, and Luka, who had finished eating and was leaning on the table, darted that stage smirk at her. “Yes,” she exclaimed, pointing in his face and circling her finger to include all of it. “That. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Maybe,” Luka chuckled, with a wink that was far more devastating than it had been a few hours ago. “Every performer has to know how to work a crowd.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose at him teasingly. “Well there’s no crowd here, so turn it off, it’s distracting.”

“The size of the audience doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, absolutely not turning it off. “Just getting the effect that you want. Am I affecting you, Marinette?”

She hadn’t expected such a bold flirt, and it showed in her suddenly red face. Luka chuckled. “That looks a bit like a yes, Marinette.” Then he added, getting a bit pink himself, “You definitely affect me.”

“Who are you?” Marinette asked, narrowing her eyed at him, half playful and half serious. “The sexy rocker or the sweet boy who loaned me his hoodie on the elevator?”

Luka looked away for a moment, laughing through his nose, and then looked back at her. “Who are you?” he challenged. “The cute stammering girl wearing shoes she can’t walk in—“ He grinned as Marinette gasped in outrage, “Or the classy business lady selling a new client on her ideas like she’s been doing it since the day she was born?”

Marinette giggled, covering her face. “Okay, fair.”

They both needed a moment to breathe after that. Marinette busied herself with her food and Luka ordered a cup of peppermint tea.

“You know,” Marinette said, blushing as she picked at her fries. “This is starting to feel an awful lot like a date.”

Luka chuckled. “I don’t know about you but this is the best blind date I’ve ever been on, even taking into account the two hours stuck in the elevator.” He smiled at her. “But sometimes good things happen even when we’re not expecting them, and sometimes things that shouldn’t make sense just do. I’ve never met anyone like you, Marinette. And I’d be happy to consider this our first date if it means I can take you out on another one.”

Marinette froze for an instant, staring at him with her drink in one hand and the straw pinched between two fingers of the other. Was this really the guy who never spoke and stared at the floor every time they rode the elevator?

He wasn’t staring at the floor now. He was staring right at her, and Juleka was right, he was intense. But...Marinette hadn’t been lying before. She liked it. She liked it a lot, actually. No one had ever looked at her like that before, like in that moment nobody else existed but her.

Smiling, she said, “I think we can work something out,” and watched him watch her slide the straw between her lips.

They lingered a little longer than necessary over the meal, with Luka sipping his tea while Marinette ordered a hot chocolate piled with whipped cream. Luka laughed at her when she got some on her nose and her eyes crossed trying to look at it. Marinette gave him the cold shoulder for five whole minutes, until he actually began to look worried that he’d really offended her. Then she winked at him over the rim of the cup with its much diminished pile of whipped cream, and the soft look came back.

It was getting late, though, so they gathered their things and headed to the metro. They didn’t bother to sit, as they were only going a few stops, and stood together holding onto one of the poles and talking quietly. Eventually Marinette noticed some passengers looking in their direction, and she tugged on Luka’s sleeve. He bent down slightly.

“Do I look okay?” Marinette whispered to him. “I feel like people are staring. Did I spill something on myself?”

“You’re fine,” Luka chuckled. “I think it’s because they’re not used to seeing a sweet lady like you with a punk rock guy like me. Probably thinking you belong with someone like him.” He straightened and nodded at an advertisement on the subway wall, where a very familiar blonde man dressed in a business suit was looking over his shoulder at the camera.

Marinette began to laugh, and Luka raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to explain. “I actually know him and he’s engaged,” Marinette giggled. “He’s marrying a friend of mine. I’m supposed to be a bridesmaid in their wedding next year. And believe me, people who don’t know better would say they don’t match at all either.” Marinette sighed as the laughter faded, though her smile remained. “Well,” she said, sliding her hand down his arm to slot her fingers between his and leaning into his side as she turned her nose up at the gapers, “The other girls like me don’t know what they’re missing.”

Luka gave her the soft look, and maybe it wasn’t as sexy as the stage smirk but it was awfully cute and a lot less intimidating. His fingers closed tightly around hers and he leaned into her too. “All the guys like me wish they could be so lucky.”

They held hands all the way back to the apartment building.

“Well,” Luka said with some amusement as they approached the elevator doors. “Here we are. Do we take the chance or use the stairs?”

Marinette sighed, shifting on her already tired feet. “I suppose...it didn’t end too badly last time, right?” She smiled up at him. “I can think of worse things than being stuck in an elevator with you.”

“So can I,” Luka chuckled. “And several of them involve plunging to the bottom of the elevator shaft instead of just jolting to a halt and having to catch a pretty girl.”

“So...you’d rather take the stairs?” Marinette asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Luka sighed heavily, and then his gaze flickered to her shoes and he squeezed her hand. “No. We’re just going to have to have faith that the universe didn’t set us up on the most bizarre blind date ever just to let us die at the end of it.” He grinned, and Marinette giggled.

The elevator doors opened (not to the same elevator, and Marinette wasn’t sure whether an elevator that presumably hadn’t been stuck today was better or worse than the one that had been stuck but that they knew for a fact maintenance had recently serviced). She and Luka shared a look, and then stepped onto the elevator together, hands still clasped tightly.

“Is it okay if I walk you to your floor?” Luka asked, his hand hovering over the panel.

Marinette nodded. “I’m on eight.”

Luka pushed the button, and they both let out a breath as the elevator began to move. Marinette was more anxious than she had expected, and found herself pressing against Luka’s side. Luka let go of her hand and put his arm around her waist, squeezing lightly. His other hand gripped the elevator rail tightly.

Despite their nervousness, the elevator ascended smoothly to the eighth floor. They both breathed a sigh of relief and laughed at themselves as they got off the elevator.

“Whew,” Luka said, taking her hand again and pulling her off to the side. “We made it.” He ducked out of the strap of his guitar case and set it against the wall.

“We did,” Marinette giggled, as he caught her other hand, so that both of hers now rested in his.

“Well, it wasn’t the most conventional first date,” Luka admitted, tugging lightly to bring her close. “But...I’m really glad I met you, Marinette. And I’d really like to take you on a second date sometime soon. Maybe one involving less time spent in elevators and more comfortable shoes.”

“Hey!” Marinette pouted as he laughed, tightening his grip when she pretended to pull away, drawing her even nearer.

“I know technically we just met,” Luka said, smiling down at her, “And I’m not trying to pressure you, but...I’ve been dying to kiss you for hours now. Can I?”

Marinette only hesitated a moment before nodding, because the truth was she’d been wanting him to kiss her since he’d stepped on the stage.

Luka held her eyes as he leaned in until they got close, only closing them a breath before he pressed his mouth to hers, slow and soft and so warm. He let go of her hands and brought his own to cup her face, and then slid them back into her hair to tilt her back as the kiss deepened. He tasted like peppermint tea and some giddy part of her brain wondered if he’d drunk it on purpose because he’d already been planning to kiss the hell out of her. She slid her hands up over his shoulders to wind her arms around his neck and pressed into him, and he moaned softly into the kiss.

She had an epiphany right about then, but it wasn’t about the mint tea or how he was a great kisser. It was a bunch of little things that came together for her in a sudden flash of intuition, confirmed and affirmed in the way he kissed her like he needed her more than air, the way his eyes stayed closed for a moment when they parted, the stars in those eyes when he opened them and looked at her, his thumbs brushing along her jaw as he leaned back in for just one more, light and soft and reverent, before dropping his hands to her waist and resting his forehead against hers. He was soft and sentimental, an artist and a believer in the romance of taking chances when they come along. He was gentle and kind and considerate, he saw people, he felt deeply and passionately and he believed that love didn’t always have to make sense.

He was someone like her.

She was sure there were stars in her own eyes as she looked back at him.

Someone behind her cleared her throat and Marinette jumped, turning quickly. “Mrs. Allium!” she gasped at the sight of the purple-haired lady currently waiting for the elevator. “I mean—”

“Good evening, Mrs. Allen,” Luka cut in smoothly from behind her. “Is your grandson feeling better?”

Mrs. Allen beamed at him. “He is, thank you for asking, my dear. How is your mother?”

“She’s well,” Luka smiled. “I saw her a couple of days ago and she’s doing great. Planning another trip in the spring.”

“That’s good. And it’s good to see you finally made your move, my boy,” Mrs. Allen winked and nodded significantly at Marinette, who was looking back and forth between them with her mouth half-open. “I told you a girl like that wouldn’t stay single forever.”

Luka blushed—not the faint tint of color she had seen on him up until now, but a true, deep blush. “Yes, ma’am. Well, it was sort of—ah...” He shuffled his feet and his shoulders hunched slightly, and Mrs. Allen laughed.

“Mm-hmm, I saw what it was,” she said loftily, winking at Marinette, whose face rapidly darkened to match Luka’s. “No need to be embarrassed with me, but if I were you I’d take it behind closed doors before that nosy biddy in 804B pokes her beak out of the door, or it’ll be all over the building by morning. Good night, dears!”

“Good night, ma’am,” Luka said, and Marinette managed an inarticulate noise and a wave. When Mrs. Allen was gone, she looked up at Luka questioningly.

“What?” he shrugged. “You’re not the only one I run into in the elevator.” He reached for her hand, hesitantly this time. “You’re just the only one I never got the courage to talk to. I mean, a girl like you...with that smile and those eyes…” Luka hooked one finger under her chin to tilt her face up. “I didn’t have a chance. I just couldn’t look at you and put more than three words together at a time. Which Mrs. Allen noticed immediately, by the way, the one time all three of us were in the elevator together.” He moved his hand to slide that stubborn lock of hair behind her ear one more time. “I got quite an earful on it the next time I rode with just her.”  

Marinette giggled. “And what did you say?”

“I said, a girl like that wouldn’t want to be seen with a guy like me,” Luka replied, and then grinned. “And then she whacked me in the gut with her purse and told me I was being an idiot.” He chuckled. “I guess she was right.”

Marinette just shook her head and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so that she could kiss him full on the mouth. He melted into her with a noise she fully intended to tease him about later as his arms wrapped around her automatically. “I think,” Marinette murmured against his lips, “If we’ve learned anything tonight, it’s that we’re not as different as we thought.” Instead of answering, he kissed her again.

They heard a gasp and the slam of a nearby door, and Luka chuckled. “There goes the gossip chain,” he smiled ruefully. “What did Mrs. Allen say? All over the building by morning?”

“Good,” Marinette sniffed, and kissed him again.

[amerrierworld]

Curtain. (iii)

Carol (2015) fanfiction

Pt: 1 | 2

Word Count: 1,884

"Hey, T, you alright?" Dannie said as they got back to Therese's place. He leaned against the wall as she struggled to get her keys out.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, ya seemed a bit distracted during dinner. Did something happen? Was it Richard?"

Therese hesitated in answering as her hand halted on the door knob. Sure, Richard was always a pain in her ass. Their respective jobs kept them apart, thank God, but Therese was never the keenest on keeping exes in her circle of friends. In this case she had no choice.

"Yeah, kind of. I mean, he's always been a misogynistic asshole, don't you think? I can only handle him for so long at any given time," Therese said, breezing inside with an air of nonchalance. Dannie wasn't having any of it as he followed her.

"Or was it a certain blonde boss that was keeping you from enjoying the night?" he asked as he followed her up the stairs.

"Shut up, Dannie," Therese quipped back without looking at him. "I'm stressed, alright? You might get a bit of a break now that the show's done, but I've got a new job coming up and that shit's never easy."

"Right, sorry, T, I didn't mean to upset you."

Therese sighed as they got to her door, turning to face him. "No, it's okay. I'm being weird, I know. It's just... well, sometimes I get confused, y'know? Like I just don't know what I want, and I get swept up in all these things and people around me, and I can't say no to any of it. Now what am I doing? I'm barely out, and barely paying my rent, and not doing the jobs I originally wanted to do. I never planned to be an art teacher of any kind. And it all just piles up."

She was staring at the ground, brows furrowed as she thought things through. Though she wouldn't tell Dannie the real aggressor of her overloaded thoughts was in fact the director, it was the only thing truly on her mind. She hadn't looked at anyone properly or found anyone as attractive as the blonde woman who she didn't even know the first name of. It scared her.

Two strong arms wrapped around Therese firmly and Dannie hugged her during her brief ruminating session.

"I can't imagine what it's like, T," he said, his chin on her hair. "I know it's probably tough, Phil's had a hell of a ride with figuring himself out and that took a toll on him. You've had it almost worse in my opinion, cause it took being with a shithead like Richard-"

Therese snorted.

"... to make you realize that you deserve more, and better."

"Being gay is the best thing in the world," Therese sighed. "But also the worst. No girls I look at ever know what they want. Or what they like. Or they're just experimenting. And, you know, homophobia..."

"Ignorance."

"Hate."

"Yeah, but girls."

"Yeah. Girls," Therese cracked a smile and Dannie did too. He bumped her arm playfully and she opened her apartment door.

"You wanna come inside for a drink?"

"Nah, I better head home. Phil's probably done his shift so I gotta make sure he eats at least something other than Redbull before he crashes on the bed."

"Gotcha."

"Let me know if you need anything, okay? I'm just a call away."

"I know, Dannie. Thank you."

"Goodnight T, have some sweet... blonde... dreams!"

Therese tried to swing her purse at him but missed as her best friend went cackling down the stairs.

-

September - before the first day

"Oh, Miss Belivet, is it?" asked the elderly lady at the front desk. Therese nodded, pulling at her skirt, her bag swung over her shoulder as she stood by the reception desk of the school- her new school.

She'd been working tirelessly the past week to really get herself in order. She even had a plan for the kids; themes accompanied with the crafts, and lessons in the art they were doing, not just mindless cutting and glueing. God, she definitely wasn't getting paid enough for this. Therese hoped her work would at least be appreciated.

"I was called to see the school today with Mrs... Robichek, I think it was?"

"Yes, you're right, I'll just page her down."

Therese waited by the receptionist, wandering a bit as she took in the school's architecture. Despite its clear technological advances of the relatively up-to-date phones, computers and printers, the school itself still had an old architectural feel to it, like something out of the 50s. The floors had a horrendous tiled pattern and the walls' pale green colours had faded into something ghastly.

Shuffling caught her attention and Therese turned to see a small, old lady with thick framed glasses in the doorway of the office. Though she looked just as ghastly as the school's design, she had a peppy smile on her face.

"Welcome, Theresa," she began. Therese's own smile faltered a little but she couldn't be bothered to correct her new colleague. Robichek, or Ruby as she introduced herself, gave Therese a tour of the small but well-regarded school.

"Now, you've got it easy, Theresa dear. You'll just need to be here everyday after school, no need for those 8am calls! Hah!"

Therese zoned out a bit as she watched the janitors and teachers bustle about the school, preparing for the new year and welcoming all the kids. Teachers with boxes filled with notebooks and markers. Desks being shuffled around and moved. The janitors cleaning the windows and floors thoroughly, making the tiles shine so brightly it gave Therese a headache.

"Here we are," Ruby suddenly piped up, entering a small classroom. Therese did a full turn once inside, noting the sink at the back of the room, handy, she thought. A selection of about 20 seemingly unused easels were propped up against the far wall, making Therese's hands itch with excitement.

"Now, usually this is Mr. Tucker's classroom. After 3pm, you've got it for yourself. You won't be allowed to move or touch his desk, but do whatever you like with the rest of the set up, as long as you move it back at the end of the day."

"What does Mr. Tucker teach?"

"Hm? Oh, during the school day he teaches the eighth graders, mainly. He's also coach and teaches gym, so he barely uses this room for his own things; that's what the gym office is for."

Therese wandered around the room for a bit, wondering if she was invading someone's space by being here. But no, she was only playing babysitter for kids after school. Administration insisted it still needed a curricular focus, according to Ruby, that's why they wanted an art-focused program rather than just letting kids waste their time for an hour or two.

"Between you and me, I think they're also doing it so they can cut some of the art funding during the regular day. This is technically outside of school hours so they don't have to worry about it, but they still count it as the curriculum being met," Ruby scoffed. Therese hummed in response, knowing how little arts were appreciated in schools nowadays, especially for younger years.

"Well, I think that's it, my dear! There's room in the teacher's lounge for your things once you start tomorrow. You needn't worry about taking up anyone's space, so do what you like."

"Thank you, Mrs. Robichek."

"Not a problem."

"Can I ask one question though? Where are all the art supplies?"

"Ah, that. Well. You see, I'm afraid this is as much as you're gonna get. It's an art club, Miss Belivet. The school board isn't going to be buying supplies for you."

With that, Mrs. Robichek walked out, leaving Therese to her own devices. She wandered about, checking the drawers in the cabinets and by the sink. A box of broken crayons and old Crayola markers was all she found. Some scissors, half a pack of construction paper, a couple glue sticks... The only real asset were the easels at the back of the room. Someone probably funded those with good intention, but no one seemed interested to use them properly.

As she crouched by the sink, rummaging through the last few piles of flimsy paper and boxes, the door opened. In walked a beanpole of a man- thin glasses framing his beady eyes. He was dressed in a suit that seemed to hang off of his body, old and boring in every way. He had a box in hand that he set on the desk before noticing Therese at the other end of the room.

"Who are you?" he asked immediately. This, Therese assumed, was Mr. Tucker.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Tucker. I'm Therese Belivet, I'm-,"

"The new art teacher, yes I know. I suppose we're sharing this classroom for the year, hm?"

Therese nodded bleakly as she got up, a forgotten glue stick in hand.

"I'll have you know I have a very strict way with my things, Miss Belivet. I will not allow you to move anything off of my desk. This need for art after school nonsense is ridiculous in my opinion, but I will mostly be in my separate office by the gym. Do what you like with those things,"  he nodded to the easels, "but don't make a mess of my classroom."

Therese was stumped by the man's arrogance and haughty behaviour so she clasped her hands in front of her instinctively, like she was a student back at boarding school. "Of course, sir."

He gave her a pointed look, not moving from his spot. Understanding the cue, Therese hurried out the classroom as fast as her feet would carry her.

God, what a weasel of a man, she thought, taking a breather as she headed back to the main office. She wouldn't be needed until 3pm the next day, which opened up her mornings nicely. She waved goodbye to the receptionist, who she learned was named Patricia, and walked out in the late summer evening air.

Therese hurried to get a cab, texting Dannie on her way back to her apartment.

met 3 new colleagues today. 1/3 was actually bearable

Dannie replied within a few minutes.

no shit, eh? what are they like?

receptionist is nice, does her job and didn't ask any questions. this one other lady teacher seems to be like everyone's overbearing grandma (good thing she teaches kindergarten i guess??) oh and the last guy seems like a total creep- really uptight

what does he teach?

gym. he's the coach of whatever teams they can even have here. it's such a small school.

damn, he's not ripped is he? if he creeps you again i could take him down, maybe.

lol nah he's a stick more than anything. doesn't seem to like me, or art for that matter. i have to share a classroom with him.

bummer. maybe paint the walls a sick fluorescent magenta? that might send him a message. kids would enjoy it too

Therese snorted at her phone, though the message gave her an idea. She hastily sent a reply to Dannie before directing the cab to the nearest art supply store.

A/N: Two updates in one day. I couldn’t help myself :3 Hope you like it folks. It won’t be long until our two leading ladies meet, I promise.