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quickspinner · 4 years ago

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Guard My Heart - Ch 1 Daylight’s Wasting

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

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

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

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

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

Rating: M, Implied sexual content in later chapters

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marinette?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” she said reflexively, “I can—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Marinette?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me about it,” Marinette sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marinette shuddered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” Luka smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holding a lot back?” Luka smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is,” Marinette smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fiction Master Post | LBSC 2021 Exchange Collection

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

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thorne93 · 7 years ago

Text

Unexpected Guest (Part 3)

Prompt: Imagine working a party and seeing a mysteriously handsome man who captures your entire attention. There’s one catch: you’re engaged to a different man.

Warnings: angst, fighting, negative relationships, flirting, language, smoking (cigs? Is that even a warning? idk)...

Word Count: 4366

Notes: Inspired by Gorgeous - Taylor Swift...Beta’d by my amazing @like-a-bag-of-potatoes. I’m so blessed to call you a friend, love. OFC/OC Jeremy

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876

@magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527

@myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@marvelloushamilton

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@random-fluffy-pink-unicorn

@hardcollectionworldtrash

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr

@kaeling

UG Tag: @bill-skarsgard-is-daddy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days after the premiere, you were going back to work, looking over inventory, going over accounting, checking for any quotes or inquiries. The staff didn’t have to work yesterday since they went so late last night and there were no events yesterday. But the kitchen would be full today as they prepared for a wedding later in the day.

You grabbed your uniform, slipped it on, pulled your hair back into a pony tail, and went out to the living room, which looked like a tornado hit it. In two days, it’d gone from half-assed decent looking to resembling a natural disaster had hit. The kitchen was stacked with dirty dishes and dirty counters, the living room had empty chip bags and glasses everywhere.

“Jeremy!” you exclaimed when you finally eyed your fiance on the couch, watching TV.

“Yeah?” he called back, not looking at you.

“What the hell happened to the house? Everything looks like shit,” you noted, walking around.

“I don’t know, babe. I was jamming with the guys yesterday. Must’ve forgotten to pick up.”

You suppressed an angry sigh. “So, you didn’t work all day yesterday, you played around with your bandmates, and failed to clean up this pigsty?”

“Hey, lay off, I don’t get on your ass when you’re out late all the time,” he remarked.

“I’m working, Jeremy! I’m late because I’m at events! But when I have off time, I’m cleaning. I would expect the same from you!”

“I wanted some time to relax. No one’s coming over,” he rebutted, irritated. You stormed over to stand in front of him.

“It’s not about whether or not we’re expecting guests. It’s about how I had this house looking pretty good, even though I’m up to my eyes in work, and then you and your friends trash it and don’t give a fuck.”

“I’ll clean it later,” he responded, still not looking at you as he waved his hand dismissively.

“No, you won’t,” you said. “You always say that, but you never do. Do you work today?”

“No.”

You took a deep breath before you lost your temper completely. “Okay, then can you clean up? Please? I just want the kitchen, living room, and hall bathroom done. Is that so much to ask?”

“God damn, Y/N, get off my back. The other guy’s don’t deal with this shit from their girlfriends,” he said, looking over to you and getting up.

“Because they work, they make most of the money, and they pay the mortgage,” you stated, not entirely happy with what you just said, but this was ridiculous. Jeremy worked forty hours a week if he was lucky, at a relatively easy job, with two days off every week and he couldn’t do simple household chores. Meanwhile, you were the breadwinner, worked sixty, sometimes seventy hours a week, and sometimes no days off, yet you still managed to clean up the house and keep it looking nice. So when you were basically the only one doing anything, it was highly irritating to have him just sitting the fuck around all the time.

“Oh, so there it is! It’s because I don’t make enough money!” he said, his voice raising as he finished getting a beer from the fridge.

“It’s not that you don’t make enough, Jeremy, it’s that you don’t contribute to our mortgage at all. I don’t understand that. If we’re going to be married, whenever that is, you need to help me with bills and payments.”

“Why should I? I didn’t pick this place out. Besides, I pay for water and electricity,” he stated as if that made up for it, before falling back onto the couch.

“So because you didn’t pick this house that we’re sharing, you’re refusing to help pay for it? That’s not what a partnership is…” you reminded, your voice getting softer.

“I thought me paying utilities and you paying the mortgage was a good way to split the difference,” he said, shrugging, indifferent as his eyes were on the screen.

“No...Jeremy, that’s not…” You sighed, letting the argument fall off. “You know what? Fuck it. Forget it. Please clean something today. I have to get to work. The place that keeps a roof over your head and your friends when you want to ‘jam’.”

You grabbed your purse and went out the door, slamming it on the way. You were fuming at this point. How could he think that paying only that little helped the financial situation? How could he sit there and not clean or grocery shop or do anything and just think that’s okay? Why did you let it go on for this long too?

Three years, you’d been engaged to him, dating two years before that. With no end in sight for the engagement. No date had ever been set. Every time you brought it up, he shot it down and said to not rush things.

For the longest time, he was dedicated to his music and you wanted to support him, like he supported you for going through culinary school. Their second album did very well last year, but since then, they haven’t recorded one note. They all just hang out. Occasionally they have an idea or tune here or there, but it never transforms into a full song. Now, he worked a go-nowhere job as a cleanup guy at a company. There was no room for progress or growth or promotion opportunities. He refused to look for another job or find anything better. When you had stressed to him that his job had no prospects, he argued that it did.

For years now, he seemed to refuse to better himself in any regard, and lately, it was starting to wear on you more and more. You were giving him less of the benefit of the doubt, less of the devoted, supportive fiance and you became the woman that was trying to kick his ass into gear. If he was going to be your husband, he needed to step up and act like an adult and take responsibility to push himself to be the best he could be.

You arrived at the office and a few minutes in, your meat guy came by to deliver the meat to be butchered. You attended to that order, having Ryan help you stock the other meat until you could get to it and telling Eva to get the marinade ready for when you were done cutting the meat. Once you were done butchering all the meat, you checked where everyone was at for prepping for the wedding later. Everyone except Oscar was on time. You stressed he needed to pick up the pace then you went into your office to begin the paperwork side of the business.

After ten minutes, Ida came into your office.

“Mornin’,” she greeted.

“Hey,” you said as your eyes were glued to the screen, trying to read through a request from a new customer. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Got the finger foods done for the wedding, they’re labeled and stocked. What’s next?”

“Start on the soups. The list is on the action board,” you informed, your eyes still not meeting hers. When you didn’t hear her leave, your eyes snapped up to her. “What’s wrong?” you wondered. Was she not feeling well and needed to go home? Is something wrong in the kitchen? Ida typically never hung around unless your attention was needed. She worked fast so if she was lingering, there was an issue.

“Nothing. You just seem...off today, everything okay?” she inquired, her big, bright eyes concerned as they remained planted on your face.

You were going to lie and say you were just busy and tired, but you felt like you needed to tell her the truth. Probably because she was your best friend and deserved the truth.

“No, Jeremy and I had a fight,” you confessed, sighing as you looked up at her.

“What about?”

“Him being lazy.”

“What’s new?” she remarked, half-under her breath and you gave her a warning look. “I’m sorry,” she gently offered. “But seriously, he’s never exactly been the go-getter. Why are you just now getting upset?”

“That’s the other thing I don’t know. I guess I gave him the benefit of the doubt for so long, but it’s always bothered me. I used to just think ‘That’s okay, I’ll take care of it.’ But as time goes on...Ida, we’re supposed to be married at some point. He’ll be my husband, help me raise kids...But he can’t even do laundry or pick up his own socks? He can’t help with bills except paying two of the utilities? What does that say? Not to mention, he doesn’t ever look at me anymore and we aren’t even married. I guess as I get more and more work with the business and he does less and less, it’s really starting to put a strain on us,” you confided, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

She nodded slowly, pressing her lips into a thin line as she thought.

“Well what’s the biggest issue?” she inquired as she leaned against your desk, her own arms crossing across her white smock.

You let out a breath. “I guess...the cleaning. If he cleaned more, it would be less for me to do at home. I don’t mind the bills so much and the sex thing is just a phase probably because I’m busy and tired and if he wanted to do anything I’d probably say no anyway because I have no energy.”

“Okay, why do you think he doesn’t get it done?”

You shrugged. “He says he forgets, but I don’t get how when he’s literally sitting on top of the mess.”

“Hmm. I know it’ll sound weird but maybe he needs a to-do list, or a chores list.”

“A chores list? Ida, come on, he’s a grown fucking man.”

“Hear me out,” she started, “maybe he does forget or maybe the entire house being a wreck is overwhelming. Maybe just text him like three or four things to do. You want the kitchen spotless? Text him and tell him to do the dishes, clean the counters, and sweep the floors. You want dishes done and the bathroom sparkling? Text him that.”

“I don’t know. If he needs all that, that’s a little alarming,” you said.

She shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, he does work too, not as much as you but granted. He doesn’t need to spend all of his free time cleaning. So, this way he can do a few things in his off time, he’ll get done what you want, he has no excuse to say he forgot since it’s on a text, and then you can do a little bit when you get home. So, now it’s divided and fair.”

You nodded. “I’ll give it a whirl.”

“Great. Now let’s go make some soup.”

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

While you worked on the meals and prep and unloading deliveries, Ida continued to try to talk to you, but this time it wasn’t about Jeremy.

“So have you talked to Bill?” Ida wondered idly, a curious tone snaking into her voice.

“No,” you responded, a little short.

“Oh, did you not get his number?”

“No, I did, but I’m not reaching out to him,” you informed, a bit curt.

“Why not? You two seemed to hit it off. You disappeared all night to be with him,” she stated, confused as to why you wouldn’t reach out.

“That’s precisely why I don’t want to. Talking to him while I’m pissed off at Jeremy is just inviting trouble,” you remarked as you worked.

“Or, he’ll be a nice shoulder to cry on,” she encouraged.

“Why are you supporting this? You’re the one who told me to stay away from him and reminded me I’m engaged.”

She shrugged as she cut vegetables. “I was just being overly protective. Maybe this guy just wants to be friends. Nothing wrong with having another friend to talk to about your fiance. Maybe he can even help, offer a guy’s perspective,” she suggested.

“Maybe,” you mused, not entirely sold on the idea.

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

The main crew was out at a wedding, leaving two cooks behind to help clean up the kitchen, with you assisting. By the time you all were done, it was around 7:45 pm, and you were exhausted. Everyone had vacated the kitchen and you were locking up, when a voice sounded behind you.

“Hey!” the smooth voice called, startling the wits out of you.

You jumped and dropped your keys, but your instincts forced you to look at who had made you jump in the first place, before trying to recover them. Your eyes landed on the unmistakable face and you saw Bill, dressed in a black sweater and blue jeans, again, looking delectable.

“Bill? What are you doing here? You scared the shit out of me!” you yelled, glaring at him before picking up the keys on the ground.

He laughed softly as he approached. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to come by and see how your day went.” He flashed you a smile that made your pulse race.

“You came all the way to my kitchen to ask that?” you wondered, curious and a little uncomfortable about that. While Bill was handsome and you liked him, you still didn’t know him very well and he could be a psycho killer.

He shook his head and looked down, kicking pebbles on the sidewalk as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking like a nervous kid, about to ask something. Strange, it was odd to think someone as good looking and charming as him could be nervous about anything. A small laugh escaped his mouth before he admitted, “Uh, no, not quite. I was hoping you’d text me and I could ask this but...You never texted so…” He shrugged, letting you fill in the blanks. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go out to dinner.” He lifted his face to give you a direct look, asserting his question.

You shook your head and put your things in your purse. “Uh, I’m not sure, Bill. We just met...” Of course you wanted to..God, did you want to. You wanted to get to know him, like he had tried to get to know you that night at the premiere. The worst part was you knew you shouldn’t want any of that, yet...you still did.

He nodded slowly. “Well, having dinner we could get to know each other better?” he inquired, that innocent look popping onto his face again, making him irresistible.

“I can’t,” you said, shaking your head, uncertain about all of this. Knowing you should just tell him goodnight and get in your car.

“You can’t eat?” he questioned, knowing full well what you meant.

“I’m engaged,” you stressed, your eyes hard on his.

“Your fiance won’t let you eat?” he asked, pretending not to know what you were getting at, and keeping a very serious and straight face while he did it.

“No,” you retorted, your voice firm. “But I’m not sure it’s a good idea…”

“A good idea to go get food?”

Man, he was good at this. Bastard…

You huffed out air.

“When was the last time you ate a meal you didn’t prepare?” Bill suddenly asked you. You were about to answer when he cut you off. “Delivery pizza doesn’t fucking count.”

Nodding your head side to side, you acquiesced, “Fine. It’s been awhile since I’ve been out to eat. Happy?” Truth be told, you think the last time you had been taken to a restaurant was when you got engaged and Jeremy took you out one night.

“On the contrary, no. Someone like you should be taken out often. What do you say?”

“I say you’re rather obvious,” you retorted, a small amount of venom in your voice as you went to walk past him. Even if he was rather hard to say no to, part of you didn’t like him coming on so strong to you when you repeatedly told him you were engaged. Maybe he could sense that you wanted more than what he was offering though, deep down.

He turned to follow right beside you.

“I’m sorry. Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want to take you out, get to know you, be your friend. Okay? I don’t want anything more if you don’t.”

You slowed and turned to face him.

“Just dinner?”

“Just dinner and two people who just met getting to know each other. Please? Come on, won’t it be nice to eat something you didn’t slave over?”

A sideways smile crept onto your face. “Well..Yeah..”

“Great! Where do you want to go?”

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

You insisted you drive, and you picked the italian restaurant about six blocks over. You’d heard great things but clearly had never been. As soon as you got there, you texted Ida to tell her you were with Bill and where you were, just as a safety measure. You really didn’t think Bill meant any harm, but you could never be too careful these days. Then you shot a text to Jeremy telling him you’d be out for dinner with a friend. He said he’d go out with the guys for drinks then. You rolled your eyes, knowing that meant he probably wouldn’t clean or didn’t clean.

After you got seated and ordered food and drinks, he jumped right into it.

“So how was work?” he wondered, delight dancing in his eyes as they glued themselves to you.

“Uh, hectic. We had a lot to catch up on, then we had a wedding today. Three more weddings got booked, a couple of private house parties, another premiere in two months…” You stopped there, figuring he got the idea. “Just a normal day in the life of a caterer,” you mused, a slight smile on your face.

“Sounds exciting,” he commented.

“It can be,” you agreed lightly. “Some days it’s a mad house, some days it’s all prep work, most days it’s a full mixture. It’s just constant work of stocking, inventory, prepping, cooking, cleaning. Then it’s on repeat.”

“And do you still love it as much as when you first started?” he inquired.

“Um, I think I love it more,” you admitted. “When I first started, you know, it was a lot of rejection, a lot of critiquing, a lot of hearing how I wasn’t good enough. But countless hours in the kitchen and subjecting Jeremy to taste test after taste test, we finally got it. I recruited my best friend and basically started a business out of my home, just the two of us. Then we needed a third person because we were getting booked so much. Eventually, I took out a loan, bought a kitchen, hired some more staff and with the extra hands and more room to properly work, we could fulfill orders better.”

“That sounds like you’re living the dream,” he commented, a grin pulling at his pouting lips that made a fire come alive inside you.

“I really am. I’m really fortunate. I’ve gotten to meet a lot of great people through this and go to so many events I never thought I’d even dream of going to.”

“So the fiance, does he support your work?” he asked, his green eyes intense on yours, forcing you to look away.

“Uh, I suppose he is. I mean, he was at first. And he likes that it pays the bills, but he doesn’t care much to hear me moan and groan about the complaints of a business owner.”

“Shouldn’t he be there for you when you’re having a tough time? Isn’t that what partnerships are for?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said a little hesitantly. You never really liked airing your dirty laundry to people, except maybe Ida because she was your best friend and you’d known her for close to ten years, but to strangers or anyone else, you never felt it was their business if you and Jeremy were on the rocks. “But he’s busy with his stuff too,” you defended.

Bill slightly nodded as the waiter came by with bread and the drinks, making you want to change the topic. As much as you loved talking about your work, your entire life was work and you wanted to get to know him. Besides, you really didn’t want to talk about Jeremy any more today.

“So, are you from LA? Did you grow up here?” you asked before sipping your ice water.

He looked down for a brief moment. “Uh, no. I grew up in Sweden,” he answered, seeming a little embarrassed or perhaps shy.

You nearly choked on your water. You had no idea he wasn’t a native American, his accent didn’t really give it away. Not to mention you had a thing for just about any European guy. A red hot blush filled your cheeks as you tried to regain your composure and not let your hormones take complete control of the situation.

“That must be...different,” you tried. You had very little knowledge of Sweden. If it was cold, hot, dry, humid.

“From LA? Yeah, just a little,” he commented, causing a chuckle to escape, making your insides warm at the sound.

“What’s your hometown, if you don’t mind me asking?”

After he finished his sip of water, he answered you, “Vällingby.” When his accent came into play, you thought your underwear would slide right off you. Maybe talking about his home town wouldn’t be a prudent idea. But you did want to know about him.

“Do you miss it?”

“Every now and again, but most of my family is over here now so, not much,” he informed. “It is this suburban town right outside of Stockholm so...LA is a lot more trafficy than it was there.” A laugh went between the two of you.

“Yeah I bet. So why did you move?”

“I--” he started before the waiter came back to tell you that the food would be out in just a moment and to refill your glasses.

When he was gone, the two of you smiled at each other, trying to pick up where you left off.

“So, you? You from LA?” he questioned, gesturing with his chin at you while his long fingers danced around his glass, mesmerizing you. Your mind went to places about those fingers of his that it shouldn’t have.

Snapping from your fantasy, your eyes peeled from his fingers to his face, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Uh, no. I’m from Sacramento.”

“Oh wow, long way away,” he noted.

“Just a little. Not quite as far as yours though,” you teased with a laugh.

After that, the conversation flowed smoothly. Talking books and your favorite things to do in LA. You told him of your dream to travel the world and he had made a passive comment about wishing he could take you all over the world. At one point he noted that you looked young to have amassed what you have. You explained you graduated high school a year early, then the same with college, and culinary school went by in a flash. That’s why you were only twenty five and had a lot under your belt already. He seemed highly impressed with that which made you become even more attracted to him, until you quashed those feelings deep down.

When dinner was done, you went outside to share a smoke break before getting into the car. Again, your eyes and mind were fixated on his hands, his mouth, and that tobacco between his lips, with salacious thoughts entering your head. You drove back to your restaurant to drop him off at his car. Once you parked, you turned to him, the car still running.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said sweetly.

“My pleasure,” he assured. “I was happy to finally have some one on one time with you.”

“Me too,” you agreed with a wide grin. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, making the air in the car thick and hard to breathe. You broke the spell, shaking your head, a light laugh escaping your lips. “Bill...I...I want you to know that this between us, it can’t go any further. I’m engaged and even though he and I are...having a rough patch, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not the sort of girl that goes around with random guys, flirting. Don’t get me wrong, you’re great and really handsome but...I just...I can’t go further than friendship and I don’t want you to think I’m stringing you along.”

He frowned a fraction of a second before looking at you. “Y/N, I don’t want to ever do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I really do want to be friends. You’re a cool chick. You’re pretty laid back except for when it comes to your job, and that’s sort of what I look for in friends. People who work hard at their job, but when it’s time to kick back, they do.”

You nodded at him. “Well, good. I didn’t want you to think I was leading you on.”

He shook his head. “No. Not at all. We flirted a bit, but you’re a really beautiful woman and you’re successful and independent. Can you blame me?” he asked with a wicked smile that shot through to your core.

You laughed through the blush and shook your head. “No, I guess not.”

“Thanks for the fun evening,” he quietly said when the two of you had calmed down a bit.

“Yeah, you too.”

“Goodnight,” he said as he leaned over to give you a hug that you happily returned. He jumped out of the car and then leaned back in the open window. “Now text me. I’m not a stranger anymore. You’re out of excuses.” He winked, patted the car with his hand, and walked away.

#unexpected guest #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard fic

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