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ariadne-does-her-best · 4 years ago

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Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity.

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

#robin #red hood #robin jason #robin jason todd #jason todd #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

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wannabemobwife · 4 years ago

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Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @dummiesshort @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland fan fiction smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland masterlist #mob!tom x reader #mob tom #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom holland x reader #dad!mob!tom holland

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zestyemby · 4 years ago

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Monsters in the Shadows - Chapter 1

Author’s Note: Sorry for the super delayed chapter post. Things got a bit busy with work and school. Let me know what you think and I’ll try and get the next chapter out here in the next few weeks.

____

The first time that Y/N had met Steve was shortly after he’d emerged from the ice in 2011. Of course, she’d met him before, seventy years earlier, in her other life. That was something that Nick Fury had warned her not to mention , at least not right away. The meeting was set up for Fury, and the two had met up in a small café that was relatively empty for a Saturday morning.

“So you’re the agent I’m meeting with,” Steve asked as he took a seat across from her.

“You sound disappointed,” she replied with a bitter smile.

“No, just surprised.”

“Why?”

“You seem young.”

“I am.”

“How old?”

“Twenty.”

“They’re recruiting pretty young.”

“I did swallow up an entire city block of D.C. when I was eighteen so,” she shrugged. The choking sound is what caught her attention, followed by the look of shock on Steve’s face. “Long story short, I was at the Captain America exhibit with friends after graduation, saw the part about Bucky, blacked out, and next thing I know, I’m waking up in a hospital bed. They said I was at the center of it all and there was even video footage. Something awakened in me and no one is sure what. Not sure what else there is to say.”

“So Fury recruited you because?”

“Because if he didn’t I would probably be on death row or already dead. I’m still trying to figure out how to bring those two hundred people back from the darkness that swallowed them.” She looked down at her hands, “I can hear them sometimes, when its quiet. I’ll hear them screaming.”

Steve was quiet. He could tell just by looking at her that she was scared, even though she appeared confident. He even heard it in her voice when she said she heard them screaming. Later, he would have to find footage of what she was talking about because to him, it didn’t make sense. His gaze fell to her hands, briefly, but enough to notice the inky black fingers that faded just before the knuckles.

“Why are we meeting,” he finally asked.

“No idea, he just said to be here.” She picked up her cup of coffee and went to drink it, but stopped, eyeing him from across the table. “That and I remember you from seventy years ago.”

“What?”

“When I saw the exhibit on Bucky, I saw memories. They aren’t mine, or, they are, but from my past life. And I know they are mine because I felt every touch and every emotion when I saw them. The heat of Bucky’s hand in mine the night before he was shipped off. His breath on my ear as he said my name and that he loved me. The promise of forever in the last kiss.” She took a deep breath, swallowed the last bit of her coffee, and looked at Steve. “And how it felt like my heart was ripped from my chest the day you showed up at my door and told me that he was gone. You caught me and held me as I cried.”

Steve sat rigid as he listened to her. He wasn’t there for the final goodbye between her and Bucky, but he knew how much Bucky loved her. They had even had a conversation on whether Bucky would propose that night. He never did find out if it happened. When she mentioned the day he told her Bucky died, he knew she was telling the truth. Her eyes were e/c back then, but her y/e/c eyes held that same pain. “He loved you, you know.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s gone.”

_______

After that day, the two began to spent more time together. It helped that, even though Y/N was not the Y/N from the forties, she still had memories of it. This aided in further bonding. So much so that she had a key to his apartment and regularly passed out on his couch and eventually, in his bed. Her sleeping in his bed was a result of nightmares. Well, really just the voices in the shadows of the people she had let her darkness swallow all those years ago.

At first he wasn’t sure what it was, what kept her awake at night. There were times she would fall asleep before him and he’d wake up to hearing the television going several hours later. It wasn’t until after he had started going on missions with the Avengers and coming home late at night that he realized what was going on. He’d walked through the door at two a.m. one morning to her crying in her sleep saying she was sorry. Then there was the scream and how she bolted upright, terrified.

“Hey hey hey,” he whispered as he dropped his bag and sat down next to her. He watched as her eyes darted around the room, lingering on the darkest shadows. It was like she saw something there. “Y/N,” he tried to get her to focus, “deep breaths. You’re okay.”

“They were here.”

“Who?” He noticed her eyes were on the far corner, the darkest part of the room. Unnaturally dark, he thought.

“Them.”

“The ones the darkness swallowed?”

“No,” she replied as she pulled the blanket tighter and moved closer to him. “These aren’t human.”

“What are they?” He had one arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand running up and down her arm to comfort her. It didn’t escape him that she was still focused on that dark corner. “Is one here?” When she nodded, he frowned.

“You know Alice in Wonderland?”

“Yeah?”

“And the Cheshire Cat with that devious grin?”

“Mhm.”

“They have that grin when they smile. Only their teeth are sharp, like a shark. They don’t really have a physical form but,” she finally looked at him, “they have that smile. And they can reach out of the shadows with these long tentacle like fingers that just keep stretching.”

“You’ve seen them?”

“I’ve felt them. They’ve been wrapped around me and inside me. Its like they’re searching for something but they wont tell me what.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie to me Steve.”

“I’m not.” He shifted so they were facing each other, a serious look on his face. “You said these things touched you.” She nodded. “Have they hurt you?” He knew the answer when she looked away from him. “Those bandages you sometimes show up in, they aren’t from missions, are they?”

“No.” She hadn’t expected to be pulled into a hug after that. And she would be lying if she didn’t immediately feel safe in his embrace. It wasn’t like seventy years ago when he held her as she mourned Bucky. It was different, because she was different. Had she developed feelings for Steve? Possibly.

“You can sleep with me tonight.” Almost immediately after he had said it, he regretted it. He wasn’t sure if it would come off as if he was implying something else. Maybe a part of him wanted that but for right now, he just wanted to make sure that she was safe. “That is, uh…”

“Steve,” she let out a small sigh, “Thank you.”

________

That night started a chain of events that neither of them saw coming. What had started out as a way to comfort Y/N, quickly turned into something more. For at least two months, whenever she’d start having nightmares, she would show up at his apartment and crawl into bed with him. Soon she was over more often and they’d wake up cuddled together. It was the morning, six months later, when Steve woke up to the feeling of Y/N’s breath on his neck, did he realize how far things had gone.

He shifted, moving away to get up, she didn’t move at all. Once he was out of bed, he pulled the blanket up over her shoulders and brushed hair from her face. In the two years they’d been friends, he never considered that they could be more. She remembered Bucky, and he knew she still loved him. Just like for him, he still loved Peggy. But both were gone and maybe it was time to move on.

“You’re staring,” she muttered in her groggy morning voice.

“And you’re on my pillow,” he chuckled.

“Sue me,” was her reply before rolling over, head still on said pillow.

All he could do was laugh at her childishness. After a few minutes he sat on the bed and leaned over her, trapping her on both sides. “Are you going to wake up?”

“Do I have to?” She shifted, now laying on her back looking up at him.

“Yes.”

“Fine.” It was his satisfied smile that set the butterflies in her stomach aflutter. When he continued to keep her pinner, she raised a brow. “Steve?” He didn’t respond, not verbally anyway. Instead he lifted a hand and placed it on the side of her neck, thumb on her jaw. Her heart began to race at the action. He sure is taking his sweet time, she thought. With a sigh she gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to her.

“Y/N!”

“If you’re going to kiss me, then do it already.”

Steve laughed before closing the distance between them and kissed her. He gently pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close. The kiss didn’t last long but it was longer than he had expected. The main interruption was the doorbell followed by incessant knocking. He let out a groan as he released Y/N.

“Want me to get that or,” she asked as she moved into a sitting position.

“I’ll get it.”

As he stood up, she moved to her knees and pulled him into another kiss. “I’ll get started on coffee and breakfast.” She kissed him one more time before getting off the bed and smiling. “We can always continue this later. You know, when we find out who is at the door.”

Steve watched her as she walked out of the room, his heart still racing from the kiss. It was different from when he kissed Peggy. Though, that could be because the situations in which they happened were different. Or it could be because they are two different people. Either way, he hadn’t expected it to happen the way it did. Rolling his shoulders, he headed towards the front door where the knocking continued. “Who is it?”

“I’m looking for Agent Y/L/N,” the voice on the other side replied.

The muttered ‘dammit’ that Steve heard from the kitchen alerted him that she knew. When she appeared, she looked less than pleased. “Its for you,” he whispered.

“Who is it,” Y/N called.

“Agent Friedman,” the voice replied.

“Fuck.”

“You haven’t been answering your phone.”

“Yeah its call sleeping.”

“With Captain Rogers? That is hardly a reason to ignore your phone.”

“No Richard,” she hissed, “I was actually sleeping. You know that thing people do at night to reset their mind and body?” She opened the door and crossed her arms. “Why are you here?”

“You have a job.” Richard looked passed Y/N and saw Steve, also with his arms cross and a brow raised.

“And you found me here how?”

“You weren’t in your apartment.”

“How would you know?”

“I still have a key.”

“Remind me to change the locks. Doesn’t explain how you knew I was here.”

“We tracked your phone. You’ve been spending a lot of time here recently.”

Y/N frowned and reached for the door, “What I do and where I go is none of your business. It hasn’t been for a long time.” Before he had a chance to respond, she slammed the door shut and locked it. “You can leave now Richard.” She let out a sigh as she rested her forehead on the door. “Raincheck on the coffee?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied. He headed into the kitchen to finished brewing the coffee that she had started to prepare. He heard the bathroom door shut shortly after. While he waited for the coffee to brew he looked over the paper but his mind kept thinking back to the conversation at the door. The tone in Richard’s voice and the way that Y/N reacted to his presence and how he spoke to her. It made him wonder about their relationship.

_______

After about ten minutes, Y/N emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and still looking unhappy. She walked into the room and closed the door. “That’s just great,” she huffed as she scrolled through her phone. There were twenty-three missed calls and a dozen or so messages. Most from Richard and one from Maria Hill. Its been two years and he is still obsessed and possessive.

“Y/N?”

“Its nothing.”

Steve sighed, watching her pull a shirt on then grabbing her shoes. “He has a key to your apartment.”

“Yeah and I thought he destroyed it two years ago when we broke up. That’s what he told me anyway.” After putting her shoes on, she grabbed the wet towel, ready to put it back in the bathroom to dry. When Steve grabbed her arm as she passed, she looked at him. “Look, it doesn’t matter. Its been dealt with.” The look on his face said he wasn’t convinced but he didn’t push the subject further. “I have to go. Sorry.”

“Where to?”

“Egypt apparently.” She walked into the bathroom and replaced the towel. As she walked through the kitchen she stopped and picked up the cup of coffee on the counter. She took a drink and heard Steve clear his throat. “What?”

“I could have made you a cup,” he said as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“Would have been a waste since I’m leaving.” Standing on her tippy toes she kissed the corner of his mouth. “I really have to go.”

______

The mission in Egypt was suppose to be a simple one. Do some recon in some old ruins where there had been some concerning reports coming in. The location had been mostly abandoned for nearly a century but there had been activity off and recently. Several vehicles had been seen coming and going for several months before SHIELD had picked up on it. That was when Y/N and a handful of other SHIELD agents had been sent to check it out.

The team was scattered throughout the ruins, checking possible doorways and crumbling buildings. “There isn’t anything here,” one of the agents whispered over the comms.

“No,” Y/N replied, “There is definitely something here.”

“How do you know? Did the shadows tell you,” the agent mocked.

“They told me you’re a dick Michaels,” she hissed. “Considering the location and the type of ruins, I’m willing to bet there is an underground chamber at least. Start searching the ground. We’re bound to find something.”

“Or someone,” another agent pointed out.

“Come on man,” the Michaels began, “you’re too obsessed with the movie. Its not real.”

“It could be.”

“Would both of you shut up,” Y/N sighed.

“Its not my fault that Thespin here thinks a movie about a mummy coming back to life is real.”

“The Mummy is a work of art and Brendan Fraser was amazing in it,” Thespin replied. “His chemistry with Rachel Weizs was on point.”

“Okay I’ll give you that,” Michaels replied, “but undead mummies aren’t a thing.”

“When it comes to the Egyptians, I wouldn’t put it passed them to come up with a way to make it possible.” Y/N moved some sand around with her foot and felt around for a possible trigger of some sort. When she heard click, she stepped back and watched as the ground opened to her left. She smirked when Michaels made a face and Thespin laughed.

“What are you doing,” Michaels asked as he watched Y/N start walking down the stairs.

“My job.”

He pulled her back and took her place, “I’ll go. You’re an asset and if you get killed then Fury is going to have our heads.”

“Not to mention Captain Rogers.”

Y/N stopped and looked at them. “Fury, maybe. Ste…” She fell silent when she felt that clawing feeling at the back of her mind. A sign that the shadows were trying to warn her. She started looking around, hand on the wall, waiting. That’s when her vision started to fade out, shifting to a location she hadn’t seen. “Lets see what we’ve got.”

Over the years, she’d figured out how to control her powers. To use the shadows the see what was going on in locations others couldn’t see. To use them as a weapon and to fade into them. It was something she didn’t do often because of what else lay within the darkness of the shadows. The monsters that haunted her since her powers activated.

While she looked around, she made note of the equipment and how it wasn’t covered in dust. Someone had been down there recently and had actively been using the location for some time. When she heard movement, her eyes darted around, trying to locate it. That was when a man came into view, and he was looking directly at her. Or it would be if she was physically there.

The more she looked at him, the more she was pulled to actually be there. Before she knew it, they were standing face to face, and there was a gun to her head. She looked around the room was more and saw Michaels laying on the floor. He was staring in their direction, but there was no life left in his eyes. She watched as Thespin started making his way down as well, wincing as the gunshot rang through the room. They didn’t deserve to have their lives ended in such a way.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the man said as he once again pointed the gun at her.

“Then shoot me.”

She had just moved to Brooklyn to live with her aunt after her parents had died. It had been roughly three months since she moved but the city still confused her. She was trying to find a corner diner that her aunt had told her about that was in need of a waitress. Her being lost was probably what led to the situation she found herself in.

“You’re a pretty one,” the man said as he emerged from the alley.

“Please just leave me alone.”

“Come on. Why don’t you let me take you on a date,” the man said as he followed closely behind her.

“I’m not interested.”

“Just one date. Bet I could make all your dreams come true.”

“No thanks.”

Apparently he didn’t like that answer because he reached out and grabbed her wrist. Pulling her back and inevitably pinning her against the nearest building. “Why not? Pretty little thing like you, everyone would be envious.” He could tell she was uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. She had turned him down and he didn’t like that.

“Let me go!” The more she squirmed to get away, the tighter his grip became on her arm. If she wasn’t scared before, she was now.

“Hey,” an unknown voice shouted.

This caught the man’s attention as he finally looked from her, to where the voice had come from. “What do you want?”

“She said she wasn’t interested, didn’t she?”

“Get lost.”

She finally looked to the man who had called out. He was tall, accompanying him was a scrawnier man, but she was focused on the one who spoke. “Please,” she begged, “please help me.” That didn’t sit well with the man holding her, because his grip tightened again, and she winced. It was then that the other man approached, looking none too happy. The pain in her wrist was too much to bear so she closed her eyes to keep herself from crying more.

After a few seconds, she felt her arm being released and she crumbled to the ground, crying. That didn’t stop her from overhearing the fighting and the sound of someone running away. When she opened her eyes again, she was face to face with the man who had likely saved her life. Ocean blue eyes stared back at her, full of concern.

“Are you okay,” he asked.

“I,” she looked at her wrist that was beginning to bruise, “Thank you.”

He held his hand out to her and she gratefully took it. Once they were both standing, he looked at her wrist and frowned. Marks of fingers could clearly be seen. It bothered him that he didn’t realize how tightly the man had been holding her. “James Buchanan Barnes at your service. Most people call me Bucky though.”

“Steve Rogers,” his friend said.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” She pulled her wrist to her chest and hid it the best she could with her other hand.

“Where are you headed,” Bucky asked.

“Just this corner diner my aunt told me about. I guess I’m a little lost.” She gave them the address. She watched as the two exchanged a look before Steve sighed and Bucky smiled. “I’m in the wrong part of town, aren’t I?”

“You are,” Steve replied.

“But we’ll get you to where you need to go,” Bucky added.

As she came out of the memory, she put her hand to her head. It took a moment before she realized she was no longer in the bunker and the man was gone. She wasn’t even in the desert anymore. Or was she? It was hard to tell with the city buildings and the several hundred people and vehicles that were around her. “Wait this is…”

_______

Alarms started going off at SHIELD headquarters the moment the missing section of Washington D.C. turned up in Egypt. “Sir! There are several hundred people stranded in Egypt right now.”

“What of our agents,” Fury asked.

“They aren’t responding.”

“Agent Y/L/N? Any sign of her?”

“An S.O.S was sent out just before the missing blocks appeared.”

“Get rescue out there. And keep trying Y/L/N.”

“Yes sir!”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x Female Reader #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve x female reader #steve x y/n #steve rogers x reader #Avengers #The Avengers #avengers imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x y/n #reader insert #captain america #captain america x reader

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brimstoneandstardust · 3 years ago

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Low Activity, Illness, Job Burn Out, New Orleans trip, Mental Health and Murder...aka, where I’ve been for for the last few weeks.

Hi mates!!! I’ve been wanting to post this for a bit but...yeah. I couldn’t make my brain muster the words much less put them in some sort of sensical order.

I’m sure it’s been noticeable that my replies are going out at a snails pace lately. There’s been a shit storm of things contributing to this in my real life and I just wanted to explain why I may seem like I’m ghosting a bit lately. IT”S NOT INTENTIONAL! I PROMISE!

So some of you on here that I speak to regularly already have some idea what’s going on, others maybe not as much and for some reason there a bunch of new lovely people following me--so hello! I’m sorry you’ve walked into a bit of a shit storm around here. Don’t mind the mess. :)

Firstly, it’s just been that non-stop busy time of year for my fam when my kids go back to school and birthdays and all that. So not only am I working a ton to pay for all this stuff but there’s like a million fucking social events every weekend, even the ones I work. Now that was mostly last month---well, I still haven’t recovered from it physically or mentally or hell even financially. I got sick recently--NOT COVID--and just have not been able to bounce back, leaving me really physically drained all the time. On top of that, I suffer from IDA--Iron deficiency anemia--and because I haven’t had a transfusion in forever and my eating habits are even worse than normal on top of the stress and work...physically I’m held together with ducktape and denial.

Tackling the mental health issue...stress and issues at my job have caused my mental health to steadily decline, but the last couple of weeks has been new levels of suck. I’ve been getting attacked physically at work fairly regularly by volatile residents and dealing with really shitty management and coworkers. I’ve been in a really bad, dark headspace for awhile that I’m doing my best to cope with and push through. Anxiety attacks are frequent these days. Like way more than I’ve ever had in my life. Which is no fun.

On the subject of MURDER...there was one. At my job. A murder-suicide to be specific. It was an awful, awful event that of course has affected everyone pretty strongly. Yet once again management is shit and hasn’t really done much to take any further measures to ensure that the staff is safe, not to mention the residents. This incident has obviously compounded the burnout feeling and the mental health decline.

With life being a real turd lately, I just haven’t had time or energy to get as much out as I would like. I’m trying not to beat myself up over this because we all know real life has to come first. This is a hobby not a job. But writing has always been my go-to coping mechanism and primary self care. And honestly I don’t know how I would get through any of this crap without some of you wonderful, darling people I get to talk to on here. You know who you are!!

Today and tomorrow I have basic chores and some packing for my upcoming trip to New Orleans. As much anxiety I have about leaving the kids and hubby alone for 5 days, I know that I am in desperate need of a break. I’ll be spending the time there with my dad. I am really hoping it goes well. It’s a total toss up with that man.

Today and tomorrow I will be trying to do a bit of a reply catch up on here, getting as much out as I am able. I’ll be on sporadically while I’m on my trip I’m sure, but probably won’t be posting any actual replies I get in that time frame until i come back home.

I am really hoping this trip serves as a much needed break and recharge and I am looking forward to getting things going with more regularity on here again. I appreciate you all so much for your patience and writing with me and sticking around through my episodes and what not. It means the world to me.

I hope the rest of you are having a wonderful spooky season so far and are taking care of yourselves <3<3 thanks for listening to my rant

#ooc #the mun

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nct-oli · 4 years ago

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I also miss atots! I wanna read your ramblings so may I ask what are some of your head canon for phutian whether it’s during the series or post-series.

HI!! You’re so sweet. I am so sorry that I haven’t responded to this sooner! Life got really hectic, and it honestly kind of stole my creativity, to the point where I read this back when you sent it, but I could not think of a single headcanon at all.

But I’m here and I’m going to finally talk about some because I rewatched ATOTS with a friend and it sparked some headcanons in the process!!

1) This is probably my biggest headcanon. Phupha and Tian wrote emails to each other during their two years apart. I’ve seen some people say letters, and of course letters are super cute and classically romantic. Plus they are fitting given that’s how Tian was communicating with Phupha when he returned to Bangkok. But the reasons I like emails for them are:

Getting letters domestically to a rural village is one thing, but getting them internationally without some of them getting lost feels a bit less likely. And I think Tian and Phupha would know that. So emails are a more consistent and reliable form of communication.

Obviously Phupha can’t access the internet from the village, but you know who does have internet? Dr. Nam. I very much love the idea of Phupha strolling into the clinic every so often trying to be all cool and not at all giddy to check for a new email from Tian, and Dr. Nam never, ever letting him use the computer without a lot of proud best friend teasing. Remember when Phupha went to Dr. Nam to ask what a scar on the chest would mean? Yes, just like that, except regularly. (And when Phupha doesn’t go to Dr. Nam’s clinic, he could go to town to check his email too.)

This part doesn’t really fit the canon storyline at all given Phupha was still gazing at the only photo he had taken of Tian two whole years after taking it and also Phupha never told the children where Tian was. BUT think of the photos they could send each other. Tian sending photos of himself in various places in the US, his hand with Phupha’s ring always visible so Phupha can be there with him for every adventure. Phupha sending photos of the kids as they grow, the tea sachet business (or whatever the villagers end up doing with Mr. Sakda gone), the very rare selfie by a rather self-conscious chief... sending physical letters limits the number of printed photos they could send each other. Plus printing photos may be a bit easier for Tian, given he can just print them at a nearby Walgreens or something, or even have them ordered online. But that would be tougher for Phupha, needing to leave the village and find somewhere. So emailing photos back and forth would be easier.

Imagine Tian printing every email sent back and forth and collecting them. Imagine him in the library with the biggest smile on his face, printing out emails to and from his mountain boyfriend back in Thailand and his university friends watching him with the most confused but intrigued eyes. I love it. I love that idea.

I remember there being discussion post-finale about whether Tian and Phupha communicated in that time at all. The discussion revolves especially around how at ease they seemed in their Pha Pun Dao cliff reunion and they didn’t quite act as though they had been fully apart for two whole years. And I fullheartedly believe they had contact, even if very infrequent. I think they found a way. And while I do think letters are incredibly romantic and fitting, I just have this fondness to emails. Maybe it’s a result of watching We Best Love recently. I’m not sure.

2) Tian chose to go to the US ultimately on his own. Now, we all know his mother is the one who picked the university for him and “sent him away.” But I do like the idea that, after coming to terms with the fact that maybe running away to Pha Pun Dao immediately wasn’t the best plan, especially if Phupha wanted to forget him, he grew to like the idea of going abroad. It would be his chance to have probably as much freedom as he could get. He wanted to go to the US before he died (episode 3 conversation with Tul). He could take time to himself, without the influence of anyone else, and figure out just what he wanted for his life. And when Phupha showed up at the airport and they got their true feelings out in the open, Tian didn’t feel like his family was pushing him away from the man he loved and the life he wanted; he felt that he had agency in choosing the US and asking Phupha to wait for him, to give him the chance to figure out this new chapter first. I find comfort believing Tian didn’t board that plane feeling resentful but instead feeling hopeful. And when he returned, he wasn’t filled with regrets. He was filled with excitement that he was returning home to Pha Pun Dao and Phupha right on time. (Plus Phupha had more confidence when Tian returned to him that he truly wanted to be there in the village with him, because despite literally traveling the world and seeing so many options available to him for places to build his future, Tian still chose Pha Pun Dao.)

3) The teacher’s house remains Tian’s home too. Hear me out: I don’t mean full time. I’m obviously a massive softie for domestic PhuTian, so I want him to still stay with Phupha. And Phupha probably can’t leave the base permanently, as he’s the chief and needs to be there regularly for his rangers, so the two of them can’t move into the teacher’s house fully either. But Phupha’s room is quite small. I love the idea that Tian still escapes sometimes out to the teacher’s house where it’s quiet and he can still have his own space. A space to lesson plan, to take the students when they need a new environment, to feel connected to his three original months in the village when he fell in love with the people and his person (Phupha). That house was his home, and while Phupha’s place is now also his home, I like the idea that Tian still keeps that house for himself too. At least so long as it isn’t needed by anyone else. (Also, if Phupha and Tian need space, well, there’s no Yod out there to start knocking.)

4) This semi-connects to the last one. When Tian and Phupha finally get married, they have a ceremony in the village and Tian convinces Tul to stay a night in Pha Pun Dao. His parents come to the wedding too, but they stay in a hotel in the city, where Tul stays some nights except for the night Tian gets him to stay with him. Tian and Tul stay in the teacher’s house, and Tian tells him all about his many nights sleeping there. Tul is, well, not convinced of its appeal at first, but watching Tian share his stories with the brightest smile, he decides he can warm up to it a little bit. And after seeing Tian with Phupha, with the kids, and with the rest of the village, and finally understanding how perfectly Tian fits in Pha Pun Dao, it starts to make sense to him why some of the luxuries don’t matter to Tian anymore... will Tul himself ever move to a rural village like that? Absolutely not. He’s not convinced that much. But the joy that village life brings his best friend and the glow he exhibits is enough to leave Tul content for one night on a hard mattress inside a mosquito net in the middle of seemingly nowhere. (No but really, imagine the chaos of Tul trying to live in Pha Pun Dao for a night. I want to watch that so much.)

5) Okay, I hope the couple that got married have a child and that child goes to school under Tian’s teaching. Or someone else in the village has a child. Imagine Tian getting a new student and having to navigate a classroom with early teenagers and a tiny kid. (Headcanon within a headcanon: Tian did a LOT of research during his two years abroad specifically on multi-aged classrooms because he knew he wanted to return to Pha Pun Dao one day and would need the skills.)

6) Longtae and Tian most definitely go on that trip across the border that Longtae wanted (just a couple years late). And they have the best time. Longtae tells Tian about any new stories from university. Tian shares stories about his students and tries not to talk about Phupha too much but occasionally can’t help it, to which Longtae smiles brightly like the cute bestie he is. And the two of them get the CUTEST photos that Longtae prints for Tian immediately when he gets back to the city.

All of these headcanons are for those two years away or after he returns. I’m trying to think of some headcanons for the show prior to ep 10 part 4/4...

6) OH this doesn’t necessarily have to be before ep 10 part 4/4 in the timeline, but Phupha and the rangers apologize to Tian and the villagers for not telling them about Torfun’s death sooner and that burden being left for Tian to carry instead. I just want that settled.

7) HERE’S ONE FOR WITHIN THE SERIES TIMELINE. At the wedding in episode 4, Phupha didn’t deny it when Dr. Nam called Tian Phupha’s guy. So yes, of course Dr. Nam started calling Tian that all of the time, to which Phupha did eventually argue against but he secretly liked hearing it. His guy.

8) I’m back to going outside of the timeline again... all of my headcanons are for after the series it seems. Oops. But Tian most definitely brought the kite to Pha Pun Dao with him, and it hangs very proudly on the wall in their room. Tian tells Phupha about how he had it flying back at his family house in Bangkok, how seeing it blow in the wind brought him comfort when he felt homesick for the village and for Phupha. That knowledge had Phupha smiling for the rest of the week.

I’m running out of ideas. I kind of wanted to hit ten, but I just don’t have ten headcanons off the top of my head. BUT if I think of anymore, I’m sure I’ll post about them somewhere. Maybe I’ll even write a ficlet about some of these... I used to write those here and there, way back when... we’ll see.

Thank you again for your message, anon! You are a wonderful human. I’m sorry for taking so long to respond, but I didn’t forget about your message or ignore it. I just couldn’t get my brain to give me anything to respond with! I hope my rambling was sufficient for you. <3

(Also man, I miss writing about ATOTS so ridiculously much. This felt so familiar and also kind of sad. Phupha, Tian, villagers... come back to us. I miss you.)

#phutian #phupha x tian #a tale of thousand stars #atots #1000 stars #anon #I miss ATOTS so much every day #I just rewatch episodes and EarthMix interviews trying to pretend the show didn’t actually end

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idontblushsrry · 4 years ago

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Inuyasha Characters As Roomates

In honor of yashahime’s release i’ve decided to post this for no real reason.Can you tell who my bias is lmao. Lmk if I should do a Part 2 with the people I missed. Also I apologize I haven’t updated in like a year I have a post addressing this coming up soon. Thank you for your continued support despite the fact that I’ve been updating infrequently, I really appreciate it. Without further ado:

Warnings: Some swear words oop

Word Count: 1632

Inuyasha

You want Inuyasha as your roommate???Chile anyways...

No but fr tho in general Inuyasha isn’t an awful roommate, he pays his bills on time(ususally), doesn’t make too big of a mess but that’s just because he owns like 3 things and 2 outfits.

No, the real problem with Inuyasha is that he is LOUD

You walk outside to throw the trash away and he’s in his room screaming about a video game or something and the WHOLE neighborhood can hear him.

People pokin they head out in concern and everything

Another time he was watching a horror movie and you guess the characters did something stupid because you hear a scream from the character and then Inuyasha screaming “WHAT THE FUCK, WHY WOULD YOU GO THAT WAY DUMBASS! THAT’S WHY YOU’RE DEAD NOW!”

Shit woke you up out of your sleep

After that incident you knew you’d have to ask him to be a bit more considerate of your eardrums.

So, you ask him to quiet down and he pouts like a child and huffs and puffs.

He does quiet down tho...for about 2 minutes until he stubs his toe on the end of the couch

God bless you and your patience but god bless his girlfriend Kagome

She’s a saint

If it were up to Inuyasha your groceries would consist of a cabinet of ramen like the man has the budget for ramen and paying his share of he bills why would he spend money on things like fruit???

This is where Kagome comes in, she comes by pretty regularly and she brings food or groceries because she of all people knows how terrible Inuyasha’s shopping habits are.

Bless her soul truly and every time she does this you thank her lmaoo

Inuyasha eventually does move out with Kagome but he does apologize for being loud before he leaves, you aren’t sure if he did that on his own or if Kagome made him do that

Kagome

She’s so sweet

Fair share of chores, groceries, she cooks for yall sometimes, truly a saint

Only 2 problems:

Ms. Girl has no moneyyy

Poor Kagome, she always tries to pay her bills on time but between trying to feed Inuyasha, helping out her family, and school the paycheck only spreads so thin(She does eventually quit school to start working more but)

Nothing wrong with this but you do end up having to cover for her sometimes.

She of course thank you and you don’t usually mind and your routine was functional for you two, until you meet problem number 2

The loudest mf on the planet Earth, her boyfriend, Inuyasha

One day you’re in he kitchen grabbing something to eat and you hear pounding on the door like the police showed up.

You proceed cautiously because...what the fuck and you almost reach the door before you hear

“I’ll get it!”

You’ve never seen Kagome run faster

She opens the door and you see this 5′5 mf who was banging on the door like he paid the bills

Inuyasha just has rbf but you don't know that so you think he’s making faces at you

Immediately you have a problem with him

“Hey Kagome, who’s this?”

She looks between you two before immediately rushing to introduce you to each other

“Oh, I forgot my purse be right back guys.”, Kagome left not knowing that yall were about 2 seconds from fighting

You didn’t like Inuyasha for banging on the door and glaring and he didn’t like you for glaring at him

After that you just avoided talking to inuyasha for the sake of keeping the peace

When he came over you exited stage left

Eventually Kagome does move out with Inuyasha and she asks why you and Iuyasha had never spoken to each other

“Are you kidding me the first day we met he was already glaring at me?!”

“Ohhh, that’s just his face, he’s really sweet promise :D”

You doubted that

You liked Kagome as a roommate but you were glad she was moving out so you could find someone who could pay the bills on time.

Sango

She a baddie ngl

Aside from that, Sango is the perfect roommate

However, I hope you aren’t allergic to cats or Miroku because they’re pretty much a package deal

Also hopefully you don’t hate children because she does have Kohaku to worry about

But she makes pretty good money at her job so expenses aren’t a issue

She also isn’t home too often between her job, taking care of Kohaku and Kirara, and her relationship

She ends up spending more and more time at Miroku’s place anyways

Sango finally moves in with Miroku when she gets pregnant, yall still keep in touch tho because you’ve become good friends

And thus you say goodbye to the best roommate to ever grace this Earth lmao

Miroku

Miroku is the shortest lasting roommate on this list

Mans is a little creeper pervert and that shit gets annoying after a while

You’ll be walking out the shower and Miroku’s standing there like “hey lil mama lemme whisper in ya ear”

Needless to say you smacked the taste outta his mouth and he stopped with that real quick

He stops but you’re surprised when you see Sango come over

Your hand starts itching with the urge to slap him again...

You meet Sango and what she sees in him is... baffling, scientists to this day still don’t understand

Baby girl, you’re Sango do better, self love

Anyways, Miroku moves out eventually and he takes his nasty ass ways with him

Later you find out that Sango moved in with him and sje’s gon have a baby by him

But you know that’s none of your business

Koga

If you thought Inuyasha was loud...

Inuyasha doesn’t have any friends, Koga has a wolf pack...

Parties all the time good luck homie

If you were tryna study, sleep, do work, etc. best wishes lmao

You come home and mans got 2 random people over like how ya doin O-O

“Hello”

“Where’s Koga?”

They point to the kitchen and you head here ready to just “talk” with Koga

He turns around and gives you the cutest smile known to man and you immediately lose your will to argue

Can’t argue with a man that beautiful sorry...

Anyways besides being loud af, Koga is HYPER

Mans is up at 5 am knocking on your door like “hey you wanna jog to the gym”

“No Koga, goodnight”

‘No problem, it’s the morning btw!”

He’s actually a decent roommate and he moves into a bigger house with his friends and calls it the ‘pack house’

He actually invites you to come move in w him and his buddies

You tell him you’ll think about it

Sesshomaru

The king of “I’m better than you”

He has his life so well together and you’ve gotta give him props

Mans is basically Caspar the Friendly Ghost of roommates

Does he actually live here? the lights stay on and his name is on the deed so... I guess

Seriously tho, Sesshomaru doesn’t need a roommate but he does need someone to mind Rin

You might ask, what about Jaken, Jaken is busy (following Sesshomaru) or so he claims

Sesshomaru isn’t too bad honestly he covers the majority of the expenses in exchange for you watching Rin and feeding Ah-Un

So you’re basically Rin’s stay at home nanny

But you don’t mind because she is a SWEETHEART

Ah-Un isn’t too bad, just feed 2 lizards

(Although depending on who you are feeding them bugs might be your worst nightmare)

Jaken and you buttheads all the time, it’s almost comical

The times you interact with him mainly consist of you telling him to leave Rin alone or him telling you something Sesshomaru said

Speaking of Sesshomaru you don’t see him often and the only times you hear from him are in the form of notes he leaves around the house to the degree of ‘I fed Ah-Un this morning’ or ‘Make sure Rin takes her vitamins’

The other times you “hear” from him are when Jaken comes by saying things like ‘Lord Sesshomaru has requested that you prepare Rin to go out’

And for a while you were like who tf does he think he is because like yea he pays most of the rent but like he isn’t paying you for this so why does he think he can order you around indirectly

The first time you see Sesshomaru, it’s late and Rin’s been asleep for hours.

You walked into the kitchen and didn’t bother with turning the lights on but then you heard the smallest shuffle and a groan

And the moonlight comes through the window at the perfect angle and it reflects so beautifully off his silver hair

He turs some and you see his face and immediately take back all the times you’ve cussed him out mentally

And the you realize you’re in your pajamas staring at this man you’ve never met before that’s sleeping on the couch. For all you know he could be some random guy who broke in

He looks so peaceful that you loathe to disturb it but you poke at him w a stick and he groans out something to the tune of “Go away Jaken”

“I’m not Jaken”

He immediately sat up and stared at you like he was trying to figure out who you were in his head for a moment

“Don’t you want to sleep in your room?” you asked him. He stood up and begun to walk towards his room in response

You just watched him walk away but before he turned the corner into the hallway you swear you heard him say “You should get some sleep too.”

#inuyasha imagines #inuyasha imagine #and they were roommates #sango #miroku #sesshomaru #koga #koga inuyasha #kagome #inuyasha

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omniswords · 4 years ago

Text

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 15

new year, new chapter c: it's been a while since i've worked on Chronicles—December Mood dips are Not Delicious, plus i started streaming regularly, which has been fun! ((i’m omnistruck on Twitch if you want to check it out 🥰) but rest assured i intend to see it through to the end. i hope you've been well <3 take care, and enjoy!

From: itsdjbubbles

My dude, if your stage presence is anything like this flyer, y’all are absolutely gonna kill it at La Tortue.

Well. Luka doesn’t know about that.

It’s not like Kitty Section is totally obscure. They’ve had a stage in Paris’s annual pop-up music festival or more than one occasion. And sometimes Juleka’s tagged along to street corners with him so they could duet in hopes of more than just pocket change. And, of course, there was that whole music contest with Bob Ross and XY, but that had only ended in fiasco: their music was stolen, Rose’s vocals ripped right off the track. Luka argued up and down over the phone until he was red in the face, nearly biked down to the studio and let them have it, but he could hardly prove it. And he cared too much about it jeopardizing Juleka’s happiness to follow through.

Total corporate bullshit. He didn’t know how Jagged Stone did it. When he said so at dinner the night he gave up, his Ma only tousled his hair and said, “You’re my boy, aren’t you?”

Sometimes he thinks that’s the strongest, bravest, he’s ever been. That all his audacity peaked years ago, and he’s only gotten worse since then.

Bubbles isn’t corporate bullshit. Luka feels like he’d be able to figure out something like that from conversation alone. But their talks have been friendly—and more than that, supportive. He’s even shown a few messages to the band, just to check that he wasn’t losing his mind. And he saw how their faces softened in approval, or lit up with excitement. Even Juleka’s.

Besides, Bubbles makes music. And when he samples something, he actually credits it. He knows how to play the game. And it feels like they’re on the same side of the board.

Bubbles has that stage presence; the fact that he only needs that one shadowy picture on his profile is more than enough of an indicator. And Bubbles has a reputation that precedes him. So even if they’re on the same side of the board, it feels like Bubbles is always just a couple of steps ahead.

At least his bandmates are on the same side, and at the same step. All it took was a casual mention, during a late-night band practice, of “the bakery he keeps getting their snacks from” being all in on getting them even more exposure. They didn’t exactly do a good job of hiding their excitement, but he wouldn’t have wanted them to, anyway. Even Juleka, after practice ended, had to admit, “You did good.” And then, with perhaps a bit more snark, “Maybe she’s the one trying to impress you. “

“Stop,” Luka said with a roll of his eyes, but he couldn’t help thinking about it once the partition between their beds was up. There was no way Marinette Dupain-Cheng was trying to impress him.

…Was there?

By now, nearly a day later, Luka’s still asking himself that. Still hemming and hawing like they have more than just two weeks to get their act together. Pacing below deck with his phone in his hand, thinking about pear tarts and pretty faces instead of going to see them in person, and staring at Marinette’s phone numbers until he thinks he’s accidentally memorized both of them.

He doesn’t recognize the pattern or the area code of one of them, so he can only assume that it's an American number. But he still hasn’t mucked up the courage to text or even save the French one in his phone. Why does he need to be scared in the first place? It’s a phone number, and this is strictly business, and everything between them has been strictly business.

Well. Nearly everything. Nearly strictly.

He thinks.

Okay. Okay. All he has to do is say… what? Hi? Who just starts texting someone for the first time with “Hi?” But he can’t go writing a whole essay either, even though at least now he has the power to edit his words instead of just saying them and hoping for the best.

This is harder than it needs to be. And yeah, maybe he’s just making it harder than it needs to be, but it’s not like his brain and the shake in his hands are giving him much of a choice in the matter.

Luka switches back over to his message thread with Bubbles and shoots off a quick reply—flatterer—because maybe answering something easy will make the hard stuff more tolerable. He finds himself looking toward his guitar as though it might lend him strength… well, what the hell. It couldn’t hurt. He plays a doodle or two, idle notes, and catches himself before his fingers can drift toward the beginning of the ocean-blue song. At this point, it’s neither perfect nor good, and he can’t tell if it’s personal dissatisfaction or the numbers that the latest draft has been doing online.

Both. It’s probably both.

Messaging Marinette ends up being just as hard after his attempts at centering as it was before—because as it turns out, the whole music-giving-him-unbridled-confidence thing really only works while he’s playing it. So now he’s left still staring at the blank NEW MESSAGE screen, the cursor blinking almost tauntingly at him because of course it is. Because somehow, he can write a note telling a girl her eyes are pretty and survive long enough to see her smile about it, but he can’t send that same girl a text. It’s not like he can even see her reaction this time, anyway; that just gives him even more of an advantage.

Okay. Okay. He can actually do this. Maybe. He thinks—no, no, he has to.

With a deep breath that he holds longer than he releases, Luka opens a new message.

To: Marinette hey. it’s luka.

And like an idiot, he hits SEND before he’s even put the rest of his message together. So now he has to make a mad dash to come up with something so he doesn’t seem like a total creep for messaging her out of the blue.

For fuck’s sake. This is exactly why he writes his messages in the notes first.

To: Marinette sorry, hit send before i could finish. anyway, just wanted to tell you the band is cool with the postcard idea. i can pay you next time i come to the bakery, if that’s cool.

To: Marinette anyway, it’s really cool of you to offer your help like this. sorry if i didn’t say so yesterday, it’s kind of been... a wild time.

Luka locks his phone before he can agonize too much over what he’s sent, stuffs it away and starts pacing again. It’s not a frantic, shaky thing; no, he’s learned to keep the shakes on the inside until no one’s around to see them. He jumps when his back pocket vibrates, and he nearly drops his phone trying to fish it out. It’s only Bubbles, and he can’t tell whether he’s relieved or disappointed until his phone buzzes again. Twice. And this time, it actually is from Marinette.

From: itsdjbubbles Sorry, I was getting some stuff ready for my next project. Listen, I’m just saying. Don’t sell yourself short as this stuff. Paris is gonna hear you up there, and it’s gonna lose its collective fucking mind.

From: Marinette hi luka ☺️ no worries, i do that too sometimes. here’s the mockup for the postcard. let me know what your band thinks, i’ll do some tweaks and send it to print. sound good?

Luka balks, both at the tone of the message and at the picture she sent. It looks almost exactly like the flyer, same color scheme and everything. The only difference seems to be in the composition, which makes sense; she’s got more of the eye for this stuff, even for someone who only “dabbles.”

To: Marinette wow, this is... thank you? that was fast. and this is really well put-together. i think they’re gonna love it.

you really weren’t kidding, huh.

Luka finds himself sinking onto his bed and staring at the message thread instead of actually doing something productive. And strangely, he’s fine with that. The more time passes, the less scary it is to see her typing back, again and again and again.

From: Marinette course i wasn’t kidding. “help” is practically my middle name to the people who matter.

and i mean, there’s only a little bit of time until your show, right? so, gotta get movin.

anyway, i gotta run. my friend needs help for his summer class and i promised i’d go visit today.

Keep me posted about your band!

♥️

There is far too much in that message for Luka to need to process. “People who matter?” “Keep me posted?” The literal heart emoji at the end? He reads their messages over and over, mostly to confirm that this really, actually just happened, but he’s not going to push his luck. Maybe she just talks to everyone like that, and more importantly, the two of them haven’t been much more than a series of transactions anyway.

A... lot of transactions.

That she’s been doing a lot of giving for.

Luka tries and at least sort of succeeds at shaking the thought from his mind; he can’t read hers, and he shouldn’t try to. He sends her one last text—cool, have a good one—and switches back to Bubbles before he can worry if his words were too casual.

To: itsdjbubbles Thanks for the vote of confidence. I guess you’re not the only one? the bakery I go to, they’re offering to help too.

or, I mean, CBG is offering to help.

Bubbles’s reply doesn’t come until a few hours later. It’s presumably after that project work he mentioned, and definitely after Luka’s had some time to play out the rest of the shakes before he goes busking. His phone buzzes with the notification just as he’s about to leave, and what Bubbles has to say makes his stomach churn and his blood run both hot and cold.

From: itsdjbubbles wait. wait wait wait. hold on i just scrolled your posts.

CBG is *Marinette Dupain-Cheng?*

ohhhhhhh my dude you are in for it now.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #endgame lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fic: chronicles of a parisian dumbass #and we're back to luka being a total mess.#how are you? i hope you're well 💙💖🎶

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recurring-polynya · 4 years ago

Note

Oh boy!!! Polynya I have a sudden ferocious hankering for Byakuya and Aizen being viciously passive aggressive to each other. Most of the time you write B he is in the company of his family or his loved ones. So clearly the ultimate way to bring out the knives is an AU in which all the captains are in the same Homeowner's Association. I have no preference for ships; I crave only drama, the pettier the better.

Alopex. Alopex. Why. Why u do this 2 me. You’re my favorite, tho, I cannot refuse you. I hope this is petty enough. I almost made this whole thing an epistolary fanfic that took place over NextDoor, the worst “social media”, but I think it worked better with everyone in person.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🏠 🏠 🏠

“Gosh darnit, the only K-cups left are apple cider and pumpkin spice!”

“Oh, that can’t be right, I know I filled up the carousel just before the meeting! Retsu! Retsu, honey, we’re out of K-cups, and I bought a whole carton at Costco and I just don’t understand--”

Kuchiki Byakuya glanced up from the presentation materials he was reviewing for the six hundredth time. For starters, Byakuya wasn’t really sure anyone should be letting Hitsugaya Toushirou have coffee in the first place. It was 8p.m., and the child couldn’t be more than twelve. Byakuya had never been very clear on a) why the Seireitei Estates Homeowners’ Association let the child attend the meetings in lieu of his father (or possibly step-father?), a doctor who worked late hours, and b) why a young child would want to attend a Homeowners’ Association meeting anyway, but he had more sense than most of the other board members, so Byakuya didn’t ask questions.

Byakuya also wasn’t sure why they had to have “refreshment breaks.” Breaks were for quitters, in Byakuya’s opinion. Granted, the meeting was being held at Unohana’s house this month, which meant that the baked goods were impeccable, but Unohana’s high-strung wife tended to radiate so much nervous energy that Byakuya worried the woman was going to spontaneously combust.

“Oh, sunflower, I’m sure they just got pushed behind the croquembouche,” Unohana purred reassuringly. “I’ll help you look-- oh, excuse me, Mr. Ichimaru.”

As Unohana pushed past that weaselly shyster Ichimaru Gin, she swung her hips, knocking into him. Approximately thirty K-cups tumbled out of the pockets of Gin’s couture tracksuit.

“Oh, there they are!” Unohana sang innocently.

“How did those get in there?” Gin gasped, as though he were genuinely puzzled.

Byakuya shuddered. Ichimaru worked for the second biggest law firm in town, after, of course, Kuchiki and Sons. Byakuya dreaded the day he might find himself across a negotiation table from the man. Not that harbored any doubts about annihilating that idiot in a contest of the law, he just didn’t like being in the same room with him.

“Here you go, dear,” Unohana said, popping a K-cup into the machine and patting little Toushirou on the head. Toushirou was too busy glaring at Gin to notice.

“That looks like some presentation you’re givin' after the break, eh, Kuchiki?” Ichimaru drawled, selecting a bearclaw from the pastry tray. “Or didja bring home the paperwork from the Tsunayashiro merger?”

Byakuya sniffed and shuffled his papers back into their portfolio. “I approach all areas of my life with the same diligence as I do my professional work.”

“What a coinky-dink! I do, too-- I don’t work hard at anything.”

Byakuya had no interest in frittering away his preparation time to small talk with a moron. “I am going to set up,” he said coolly.

“Good luck!” Ichimaru trilled, giving a saucy little finger wave.

Byakuya returned to Unohana’s sitting room, where he had left his easel and poster board near the hideous faux fireplace with its tacky LED candles.

Aizen was sitting at the cardtable he’d set up at the front of the room, fiddling with his chintzy little gavel. “You look very prepared,” he said, in a tone of voice that was almost as insipid as the oatmeal-marl turtleneck sweater he wore. “Do try not to run too long, though. I’m only the substitute president, you know! I want to run a tight ship, ha ha!”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes. He was still slightly salty that President Yamamoto had felt the need to take a last minute trip on a “Single Seniors Cruise.” Something something about a flash sale and when you’re old you have to take advantage of the time you have left, etcetera, etcetera, but if there were anyone that Byakuya could count on take his side in the matter, it was that antediluvian rule-enforcer. For that matter, Byakuya wasn’t actually sure whether Yamamoto even cared about clipped hedges and shoveled sidewalks or if he just liked yelling at people and slapping them with fines.

Aizen was also a bit of a stickler for the finer points of home maintenance, but the man had no substance to him, with his floppy hair and his chunky knitwear and his horn-rimmed glasses.

“All right, everyone!” Aizen called in his stupid simpering voice. Byakuya had no idea what the man actually did, but Byakuya figured he was a preschool teacher or an art therapist or something equally touchy-feely. “Please take your seats! The next item on our agenda is a presentation on, uh, ‘A Secret But Important Topic, from our neighbor over at number six, let’s give a big hand for...Byakuya!”

“Hold the applause,” Byakuya said sternly, holding up a hand. “I come to you today to call for-- nay, demand the expulsion of one Zaraki Kenpachi from the Board of this Homeowners Association, and possibly also the entire neighborhood, if that’s possible.”

“We can’t kick people out of the neighborhood,” Aizen stage-whispered to him.

“Is he actually a member of the HOA Board?” Kyouraku asked, scratching his shaggy mane. “I’ve never seen him at one of these meetings.”

Byakuya turned to Tousen, the Board treasurer, who had taken his seat at the front table with Aizen and Ichimaru. “Mr. Tousen, did you happen to look into the dues records, as I requested?”

“I did, yes,” Tousen replied. “It turns out that Mr. Zaraki is excused from paying dues. There was a post-it note in President Yamamoto’s handwriting that said,” Tousen made finger quotes, “‘Zaraki fixed my car, excused from dues.’”

Byakuya scowled. “That doesn’t seem… sufficient… it is of no matter.” He grabbed the bed sheet covering his posterboard, and dramatically swept it away. It would have been more dramatic if the bedsheet weren’t covered in Chappy rabbits, but there was no way he was bringing one of his own 800-thread counts into a house that contained cats.

“I have been closely watching Mr. Zaraki’s residence for the last few months, as his rear yard backs to mine, and I believe he may be operating a fight club in his garden on weekends. They do move into the garage if the weather is unpleasant.”

A hush fell over the room, except for Isane and Ukitake Juushirou, who were discussing the merits of blind-baking pie crusts.

“Er, sorry, did I miss something?” Juushirou asked apologetically, after realizing he was the only person talking.

“Kenpachi seems to be running some sort of fight club,” his scruffy husband supplied, looking deeply confused, as usual.

“Goodness!” Juushirou exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

Byakuya cleared his throat. “Allow me to present the evidence I have gathered.” He picked up two large binders, and handed one to Soi Fon in the front row, and the other to Aizen, who immediately passed his, unopened, to Ichimaru. “There are about two dozen disreputable personages who are frequently found loitering about the premises. The first page of the binder indexes each of them by a descriptive nickname, including times I have seen them. Photographic evidence follows.”

“They seem to be washing cars in most of these photos,” Soi Fon pointed out, flipping a page back and forth. Or are they fixing the cars? I can’t tell.”

Komamura craned his head over, curiously. “Wow, is that a ‘73 Stingray? Nice.”

“Yes, they also like to get together to maintain and detail their vehicles,” Byakuya snapped. “Usually at ungodly hours of the morning. I am almost positive that many of those cars do not employ catalytic converters. In any case, it is easier to take pictures of them during the day.”

“Looks like they like to spray each other with hoses, too,” Gin noted, waggling his eyebrows. “Why are there so many pictures of this one guy with the red hair and tattoos? He sure doesn’t like to wear a shirt, does he?” Aizen appeared to be leaning to the side, trying to look at the book out of the corner of his eye.

“My dutiful sister did the photographic surveillance! She is very thorough, and I appreciated the help!” All these questions were knocking Byakuya off his game. He smacked his pointer against the poster. “May I direct your attention to Figure A, a bar chart of traffic on his street vs. hours of the day.”

“Tell us more about the fight club,” Soi Fon interrupted, shoving her binder over to Komamura. “Are there weapons involved, blunted or otherwise? How many people usually show up? Is it held regularly, or do you suspect there’s, say, an email list or something?”

“I think it’s some sort of mixed martial arts,” Byakuya said, rubbing his forehead. “There are often up to a dozen of them, but sometimes it’s as few as three or four.”

“You know, I’m looking through the bylaws,” Aizen said, turning pages in the bylaw binder without actually looking at them, “and I’m not exactly clear on whether fight clubs are actually… you know, forbidden.”

“They’re illegal,” Byakuya bit off.

“Per-haaaps,” Aizen drew out. “But what really constitutes… a ‘fight club,’ am I right? I mean, Dr. Unohana teaches kickboxing classes in her basement studio, is that a fight club?”

“No,” Byakuya replied.

“Exactly, and we wouldn’t want her to be painted with the same brush for just trying to teach other women the arts of self-defense, now would we?”

“It’s not for self-defense,” Unohana clarified.

“Or what about having a bunch of friends over and hitting each other with foam swords while you pretend to be werewolves?” Ichimaru broke in cheerfully. “That’s just our rights as citizens, to pretend to be werewolves in our basements with our friends.”

“It’s a tabletop RPG,” Komamura growled. “I am not a LARPer. There are no weapons. Also, you really do not need to bring it up every single board meeting. It is a perfectly normal adult hobby that I do to spend quality time with my friends.”

“Speaking of which,” Gin turned his binder of pictures around, “isn’t this guy in your group? With the sunglasses?”

“Hmm?” Komamura flipped a few pages. “Oh, huh, yeah, that’s Iba.”

“Surely a good friend of yours wouldn’t have anything to do with an illegal fight club, eh, Mr. Komamura?” Aizen suggested.

Komamura made a non-commital grumble. “I mean, I could ask him if it’s a fight club, if you want me to.”

“I have yet to hear any evidence that supports the existence of this so-called ‘fight club,” Tousen broke in.

“That’s because I keep getting interrupted, I have an audio recording and also some several emergency room admission records--”

“Mr. Zaraki is an upstanding citizen of our town and a devoted father,” Tousen continued. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Zaraki is not a responsible parent?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Byakuya mused.

“Juushirou, you and Shunsui babysit for little Yachiru all the time, don’t you?” Aizen asked sweetly. “Have you ever seen any evidence that she isn’t the sweetest little girl in the entire world?”

Toushirou raised his hand. “Excuse me? She is a menace, actually?”

“Oh, no, Yachiru is always a ray of sunshine!” Juushirou beamed. “Very active child.”

“Eats a lot,” Kyouraku added.

The edges of Byakuya’s vision were beginning to bleed into red. “We are not talking about the Zaraki child--who, by the way, buried an entire ham in my prize tulip bed--”

“It sounds like you have a grudge against the entire family, Kuchiki,” Aizen replied mildly. “These board meetings are not a venue for airing your petty grievances.”

“You are not even listening! If you would just turn to page--”

“I think you’ve wasted enough of everyone’s time.” Aizen turned his doe eyes to the audience. “Is there anyone here who wants to invest any more energy listening to Byakuya’s vitriol?”

Byakuya looked out over his audience, looking for an ally. Komamura shifted in his seat uncomfortably. The Kyouraku-Ukitakes refused to make eye contact. Unohana was reading a magazine about decorative wreaths. Toushirou raised his hand again with a helpful smile, but no one actually ever cared what he thought.

“Soi Fon, you’re an actual police officer!” he begged.

“It’s just a fight club,” Soi Fon shrugged.

Byakuya was desperate. “Dr. Kurotsuchi?”

Kurotsuchi looked up from his phone. “Eh?”

“Have you been paying attention to any of this?”

“Of course not, I only come for the snacks.”

Byakuya gritted his teeth. “Zaraki is running a fight club and these fools wish us to turn our heads and look the other way.”

“Well, it’s not a very good fight club,” Kurotsuchi agreed. “I’ve been. They don’t allow poisoned weapons and the beverage selection is quotidian at best.”

“You see! You see, right there, Kurotsuchi has even attended! That’s proof that a) it exists and b) it defames the character of the neighborhood!”

“I’m declaring this issue closed,” Aizen replied breezily. “And Kuchiki, I really think you should try to get along better with Kenpachi. You are neighbors, after all.” He brightened. “Oh, I know! We’ve got the community yard sale coming up in June. Why don’t you go ask him if he wants to join the planning committee?”

“Byakuya… will...ask....Zaraki...to chair…the yard sale planning committee,” Gin read aloud as he wrote it into the minutes.

“I agreed to no such thing!” Byakuya howled.

“Onto the next topic!” Aizen chirped. “Trash pickup happens every Friday at 7am and a few of our neighbors have been leaving their bins out as late as noon.”

Later, after the meeting, as Byakuya was packing up his binders and his posterboard, Aizen walked up to him, munching on a rhubarb scone. “Really nice presentation, Byakuya. Good fonts, well cited, you obviously put a ton of work into it. Also, that Zaraki is a blight on the neighborhood. Ideally, he would be thrown in prison.”

Byakuya stared at Vice-Presiden Aizen, mouth agape. “Then why did you and your cronies ruin my presentation and shut me down at every turn?”

Aizen’s eyes narrowed. His mouth curved into a cold smile. Light glinted off his glasses. “You dared to usurp my rightful place as the winner of the Spring Spirit Most Beautiful Yard competition.”

Byakuya blinked at him blankly. “You cared about that? A man’s lawn is his pride. I keep my yard beautiful as a matter of principle, not for some silly competition.”

“You pay for a lawn service. You shouldn’t have even been eligible.”

Byakuya didn’t even recall entering, he’d just received a letter that he’d won, and a festive yard sign appeared next to his front walk, which he had immediately removed and thrown in the garbage. “The prize was a gift certificate to a miserable chain restaurant. I would give it to you, except that I already gave it to my sister to go out with her hooligan friends. They are perpetually short on funds. I could get you another one, I suppose. The amount was paltry enough, although I was given to understand that the place offers ‘unlimited breadsticks’.”

“It’s too late for that,” Aizen declared. “You have made a powerful enemy. You will feel my revenge in a thousand cuts.”

Byakuya wondered how much of a hassle it would be to just move. He’d heard there were some nice houses over in Karakura Acres.

~end

Shinigami’s Cup: GOLDEN!

“Do you think it would help if I infiltrated the fight club?”

“I appreciate your zeal, Sister, but, no, I do not think it would help.”

“Because I think I might have an in. I feel like I would be really good at going undercover. I could wear a body mic.”

“Rukia, you know I have the utmost faith in you, but are not even five feet tall. I do not, in any way, see how you could realistically ingratiate yourself to an organization populated by large, lumpy men whose raison d’etre is to clobber each other in the face.”

“I have cat-like reflexes! I am really good at dodging and weaving!”

“Rukia.”

“And I’ve been watching a lot of YouTube videos about muscle cars. Go on, ask me something about Dodge Chargers!”

“Rukia.”

“I even ripped the sleeves of an old t-shirt, I look super tough in it. Please, Byakuya, please can I?”

“All right, fine. But do not drink any alcoholic beverages that have ‘light’ or ‘ice’ in the title. It is against our pride as Kuchiki.”

“Thank you Brother, you’re the best!!”

#my writing #wacky au requests #is this...the first time i have written aizen?#wait i wrote some aizen in a flashback scene of a little in love #i do not write very much aizen #it was...kinda fun #the man is petty as hell and i am here for it

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oftenderweapons · 5 years ago

Text

The Magic Touch - maknae line

Pairing: maknae line member x reader

Wordcount: 1.3-1.5k words

Genre: smut, fluff, (Jimin’s and Jungkook’s are a bit angsty)

Rating: 18+

Hello there everyone! One day later, here I am, I’ll repeat my general considerations.

I was very conflicted about posting, especially since I realised some of you might be focusing your energies on the BLM movement -- at the same time I thought that, as a writer, one of my priorities is to offer a momentary getaway from real life, especially since many countries are still affected by quarantine and lockdown, and many of us might need to get away from all the stress in the meantime.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I’m pretty busy with exams and studying but I really wanted to post this because last week, on May 28th, we celebrated International Masturbation Day! So, as you can see, the theme is masturbation.

I think that the general message here is that you don’t have to be single to masturbate, and that masturbation and couple life are not mutually exclusive.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There is some swearing. Also, THIS IS QUITE DESCRIPTIVE (sometimes even too descriptive for my own good) with some possibly rough language, pretty much any kind of masturbation, mostly mutual, but also individual, of course this thing is filled with exhibitionism and voyeurism, unprotected foreplay and spit play, mentions of unprotected sex (GUYS, PLAY IT SAFE, CONDOMS, DENTAL DAMS, GET TESTED REGULARLY!!!!), use of restraints and sex toys, namely one vibrator and one dildo. Mentions of cheating (it’s just JK being insecure, his gf loves him like crazy), apparently the key to unlock Jimin’s part was to switch (haha! in literature we call this foreshadowing) his and Taehyung’s prompts. Lately I’ve been thinking about dommy Jimin and damn, I had to share: he’s merciless and a tease, enjoy. Taehyung loves watching his gf, no news. JK is a young bunny and he couldn’t understand much what was happening, he was Jungshook through most of it but he appreciates.

Sceneries about 1300-1500 words each.

Enjoy!

Here you can find the hyung line

And you can find my masterlist here

Jimin

How much more could it go on like this?

Would he really tease you for the rest of the night?

“Stop it. Please, just get it done.”

“Not tonight baby.”

He moved his hand away from your thighs once more. He had been edging for almost an hour now. Tonight he was merciless. He had trapped your nipples in his favourite clamps and was currently pulling at the string connecting them, his other hand pressing against your sex.

“You want me to stop?”

“Please, just want to cum.”

“Are you aroused?”

You nodded desperately. Tonight he was being a huge switch, going from dom to sub every two minutes.

On the sofa he had initially curled up in front of you, letting you be the big spoon as he rested his head on your bicep. Then he had pinned your hands and moved your shirt aside to suck you nipples, his hard on pressing against your crotch. Then he had pulled you on top of him, acting as if he wanted to suffocate between your tits.

And now you were below him, mouth wide as he finally took off his shirt, the head of his erection pressing against the waistband of his underwear. Would he let you touch him?

“Sit there. I want you to watch me. If you touch yourself I’ll stop.”

You nodded sharply after he took off his underwear. “Have you missed me?”

“Yes, I have baby.”

“All of me?”

“I missed you on top of me. Inside me.” You licked your lips as you saw the first drop of pre-cum appear on his glans.

“Are you wishing you could lick it?” He teased with a smirk.

Another nod, this time eager and convinced.

“Aren’t you always hungry for me, my queen.” He collected it with his palm, offering it before your lips. You lapped at it. “Wet my hand for me, love?”

You obeyed silently.

His hand ran down his torso while his wet one grabbed the middle of his sex and slid downwards, contracting around the base.

“How can I help you?” You asked.

“Just look at me. I love it when you watch me. You give me so much attention. Make me feel so beautiful.”

“You love it baby, don’t you?” You smiled wildly.

He nodded, his lower lip plum as he bit it. He was too handsome for his own good: kneeling at the feet of the bed, his left hand kneading the base of his neck, his erection half hidden by his hand.

“Will you let me touch you?” You asked, praying every god that he would not deny you.

He giggled playfully. “Of course not.”

You couldn’t hold back your disappointment, pouting like a babygirl.

“Don’t be a brat, princess. You know that the moment you touch me, you’ll want to put your mouth on me, and the moment you put your mouth on me you’ll want me inside your pretty, wet pussy.” He teased with a smug grin. “Wait for it like a big girl.”

Still you clenched your jaw and tried to get closer to him. “Don’t you love me? Don’t you love the way I touch you?” Maybe you could hit his switch. Maybe you could make him your pliant little boy and climb him and use him to fuck your brains out.

“Wait.” He said, his voice stern.

“I know you want me to touch you.” You tried to persuade him with a saccharine voice. “You love my hands on you.” You sat on your knees and started getting closer to him, slowly, one inch at a time. “You always cum when I stroke you. You love my delicate touch, my warm, slipper fingers, you love it when I press on you there... ”

You were face to face now.

“Don’t.” He ordered you.

“Or?” You cheshire grin and your fingertip on his knee were immediately interrupted by his body smashing against yours, dragging you back to the headboard.

“One can’t even get off in peace in this house. Dammit.”

“You know I’ve been trying to get off too, right? The feeling’s mutual.” His body was snug against yours, his erection pressing on your hip.

“Quit the attitude. Now.” He was almost scary.

“Then fuck me.” You replied snarkily.

“Fine, you had it coming. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With his body pinning yours he reached for his bedside table, rummaging until he found a pair of black furry handcuffs.

“Give me your wrists or it will get worse.”

“Try me, sweet thing.” Since the ball was rolling, might as well play.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I will.” He grabbed your wrists, joining them on top of your head and cuffing them together, looping the chain around a bar of the bed. Sometimes you thought he had that bed specifically for this purpose. Even though it was usually him being cuffed to bed.

“Well, well. look who can’t touch me now.” He teased. He rummaged in the drawer again, emerging with a small silk case. “I told you I would ruin you. But you didn’t believe me. Guess I’ll have to deliver.” He extracted a small vibe. You knew it too well. Usually you would restrain him and let him watch as you wore the vibe and let it overstimulate you, orgasm after orgasm. You biggest source of joy was being turned against you.

“Now will you apologize for your smartmouth and keep quiet while I get myself off?” He asked.

You did not reply, looking at him with hostility.

“Fine.” He forced your knees apart and put the cherry-shaped vibe in his mouth. Extracting it, he switched it on and pressed it against your clitoris. Your reaction was immediate. “Let’s see if you still misbehave now.” He pushed it inside and instantly your eyes blew open, your lips parting in an high pitched moan.

“Oh my god. Jimin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I swear I’ll be good.” You didn’t last one minute before you started begging. But he was completely insensitive to your pleas, once more comfortably sitting on the balls of his feet, this time he placed himself at our feet, between your spread legs.

“Not so bold now, are we ____?” He provoked, his hands reaching slowly for his hard on, enjoying how stressed out you looked below him.

“I’m so sorry.” You were so close to sobbing.

“Saying sorry is not enough baby. You passed your limit tonight. Take your punishment like a big girl.” He started touching himself with ease, not fretting over it, tugging at the upper half and observing you writhe in front of him. His confidence and arrogance got you upset even more: he was there, all triumphant and smug while you were making a mess of yourself with your body juices. Your cries and pleas were whiny and childlike.

“Can’t you keep quiet, princess, I’m trying to focus here.”

“Please,” you begged once more.

He collected some of his precum on his fingers and then forced them in your mouth.

“Now keep quiet.” He cocked his head. “Don’t you wanna cum?” He baited.

You nodded frantically, sucking his fingers.

“Then silence.”

And silence was, the toy only edging you more and more, since it was set on the lowest level and you were sadly unable to orgasm without contact on your clit. Though you knew that if you were lucky enough to resist until he got inside you, his pubis rubbing against your sensitive bud, you would be seeing stars straight away.

But you weren't silent because of his orders, but rather because of the sweet moans and whimpers coming from his throat. He had edged himself too, meeting your eyes every now and then and blushing when you smiled at him softly, interrupting only when your brow furrowed and you needed to concentrate on the feeling between your legs.

Now he seemed finally ready to orgasm, his face completely relaxed and focused as a long, sweet exhale fell from his mouth, making you shiver.

“I’m cumming baby.” He said in his small voice.

“Want you all over me.” You replied, inviting him to mark you.

His eyebrows knitted together, he pouted, nodding, then you saw his sculpted torso undulate and his hips snap towards you, making him crumble on top of you, spilling over your breasts and stomach in a messy puddle.

It took him over half a minute to recover, and by now you felt so tender and on edge that even his lashes fluttering over your breasts made you get wetter -- you were surprised you could get any wetter than this.

He opened his eyes, his voice soft as a cloud when he said: “I want you to use me for your pleasure, my queen.” And he switched, once again.

Taehyung

“Head or foot?”

“I get the foot.” He answered.

“Nice. Very polite of you.”

“I can see better when you take the head. I can kneel but you need to prop yourself up.”

“Thank you, Tae.”

“You’re welcome, my love.” He wrapped a hand around your waist, leading you to the bedroom.

“Would you want some music?”

“Do you?”

“Not really.” He started undoing his shirt. You removed your jacket, freeing all the small motherpearl buttons of your blouse. You were standing right in front of each other. Shame was something you had removed from your relationship almost a year ago. If it had ever existed.

You talked about everything, saw everything of each other. Every dimple, mole, scar, valley and plane, curve and angle of your bodies had been explored patiently and devotedly. Looking at each other like this was a form of worship rather than erotism.

“Is it too cold?” You asked, looking at the thermostat. Tae was rather sensitive to changes of temperature.

“It’s nice. But maybe I’ll change my mind once I’m naked.” He took his pants off, his feet softly padding on the marble floor, nearing the enormous bed. All that space was a waste, you always slept latched together, one on top of the other. You could probably fit in a baby bed.

“No underwear today?” You asked, removing the small vintage star-shaped pendant he had gifted you.

“I showered at BigHit, then realised I had forgotten my boxers but I thought it wasn’t worth it wearing the sweaty ones. I was getting home anyways.”

You smiled and removed your pencil skirt. “Stockings on or off?”

He pondered. “Off.” Pause. “No, on.”

You giggled and mirrored his boxy grin. “Okay, on. Coming,” you teased, taking off your panties. “Wait. Panties, bra?”

“Pantied off, bra on.” He ordered.

“Fine.” You trotted to the head of the bed and climbed, his eyes trailing over our legs and the curve of our bum.

“I love your curves, princess.”

“I love your face.” You complimented back.

“I love your thighs, soft and buttery.” He said, shaking his hair out of the way, kissing you left ankle.

“I love your hands, strong and naughty.”

“Where do you want my hands?” He asked you, waiting for your instruction.

“On yourself. Rake your hands on your lower belly, on your pelvis. You can touch anywhere but your cock.”

“Like this?” He showed you.

“Yes, but slower.”

By now you were leaning with your back against the pillows, your legs wide for him, to look, to sniff, anything but touch.

He obeyed. “Tell me.”

“Keep going. I want to see your cock come to life.”

“I love it when you use that word.” His smile was already more subdued, his stare dreamy and light.

“I like using it. I like how raw it feels. It matches the way you fuck me.”

“About fucking you, wet your right pointer and middle finger.” You complied eagerly, strings of saliva connecting your tongue and digits. “Now use them to spread your labia.”

You reached for your sex, slowly, without a care in the world. You showed him your wetness, the pink of your tender skin.

“Keep teasing your outer labia. Don’t touch your clit.” He said.

“You can grab the base. Squeeze it.” You told him in return. He complied with a small groan. “That’s it. Keep squeezing. Slowly. Feel it pulse.”

Taehyung’s eyes were closing, but he fought the need just to look at you. “One finger in. Only one.” He urged you.

You licked your lips and felt the thick sense of wetness hosted in your cunt. “I’m so wet.”

“Can I taste?” He questioned. You offered him your finger. “Delicious, as always. We should keep eating fruit.”

“Maybe it truly is the ananas.” You commented, cupping your breast with your spare hand. He hadn't asked you to but he wouldn’t hold you back. Not tonight.

“Long live the ananas.” He muttered. You laughed.

Sex with Taehyung was made like this. Sharing. Laughing. And him wrecking you like you were his very personal fucktoy. Not to your distaste, you might add. Being treated like a diva from the Sixties, worshipped like a goddess. It was like being one of those actresses from old time erotica. Turned into muse, lover, girlfriend, sidekick, saint, sinner… He could morph you into anything, mould you into his perfect match, every single time. Wearing masks, costumes, accessories, being half a deity and half a whore. He was your director, liberating you of all the boundaries of society, carrying you across those moral borders that were so heavy on you. Sex with Taehyung was metaphysical.

“Did it work on you too?” You asked curiously.

“You tell me.” He squeezed his shaft and offered you a drop of his precum.

You licked it clean. “Mh mh.” You moaned enthusiastically.

“Ananas at noon every friday, so we get dirty on the weekend,” he considered, “Strawberries on saturday and watermelon on sunday so I can pop that cherry and smack that peach.”

You laughed genuinely at that, your heart melting at the adoring look in his eyes. He was in a good mood today. You were grateful. “Curl your hand in a fist. Use it like my cunt,” you suggested him.

He nodded. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Like that.” You were still massaging your slit with one finger, now fully covered in your juices. “Don’t get carried away, I’m waiting for you.”

He looked at you confusedly, then, as if waking from a trance: “Two fingers, still no clit.”

You licked your lips provokingly, then looked at his face from under your lashes. “This way?” Spreading your fingers once inside, showing him that you were getting stretched and ready for his girth.

“You know how to do it, my love.” Your eyes were glued to the motion of his hands, his shaft penetrating one as he reached the base with the other. That was his favourite way of touching himself. It was the first thing you had learnt about him in bed, roughly two months after your first date. You were making out and you started palming him through his jeans, wanting to see how he looked when possessed by bliss. And he had taught you. A few days after that, he had asked you to lay in bed and touch yourself for him, show him how you worked, what you liked.

So when he started using his large left hand on his shaft and his more precise right palm on the tip, circling around it, using the digit of his middle finger to tease his slit and frenulum, you knew he was read to go for the killing blow, arousing you visually with how his body moved this close to orgasming, and giving you the final command.

“Touch your clit, two fingers in circular motions.” You started.

“Faster.” He ordered you. You accelerated.

“Faster.” Again. “Spread your knees wider, let me see.” He spurred. “That pretty cunt needs to be seen. It’s too pretty to remain hidden.” He slowed down with his right hand. “Sway those hips like I was fucking you, princess.”

“Tae, so close.”

“Use your kegels. I need to see you clench.” That was your final undoing. You started rubbing furiously against your hand, thighs falling wide apart, much to Taehyung’s enjoyment.

Your eyes were still close, stars falling against your eyelids, burning white lines in that black sky, when you felt Taehyung’s weight on you. “Let me cum inside.”

You nodded, letting him wrap one arm under your waist, the other under your neck. That was all you needed to know he would fuck you rough, violent, a matter of minutes and he would reach his high and take you with him.

Hips snapping furiously, his arms holding you still and impaling you on his cock, he whispered: “Touch yourself”. Your second orgasm hit you hard as he finally got his first, groaning loudly without a care of who could hear, mouth needy and wet at your neck, and then at your own mouth, kissing you forcefully.

He was still completely paralysed a few minutes later, abandoned on your clothed breast as you absentmindedly caressed his hair. His gravelly voice rose suddenly. “I love many, many things of you, but you above them all.”

Jungkook

The smacking coming from the shower is what really gave you off.

The lewd sound made Jungkook go from confused, to curious to jealous and angry. Could it be…?

How could you? Why do this to him? Hurting him this much? Couldn’t you just tell him you wanted to break up?

As he reached the master bedroom, he noticed that the only clothes abandoned around were yours. And even though the sound of the smacking from the bathroom suggested other, he could hear only your moans. The door was ajar, the sound of the water echoing in the room.

“Googie.” Were you calling his name? Really?

He delicately pushed the door, enough to catch your reflection in the mirror. Yes, you were alone, but fear was still constricting his gut. He needed you to comfort him.

A little timidly, he showed his presence on the threshold and called your name.

His view was clear now, and he could finally figure out the whole puzzle. Your backside was pressed against the wall, one of your hands resting between your thighs, your fingers hidden among your folds, something of a bright hot pink colour just barely showing there.

“You’re home early.”

“Yeah.” His gaze still fixed between your legs, eyelids blinking frequently and quickly, his mouth twisted in surprise and puzzlement.

“Do you need the shower?”

“What are you doing?” He asked, head cocked to the side.

Was he playing coy? “Can’t you tell?” You moved your hand suggestively, letting the pink silicone slip out of you. Jungkook’s eyes went wide. “Want me to show you?” You were still chasing your first high, your nerve endings going haywire with stimulation.

“Need me there?”

“Depends. What do you want to do?”

“Let me just watch from up close. Then we’ll see...” He was already taking off his clothes. He really just needed you close. Something to comfort him after the scare he gave himself thinking you were in here with someone else.

“Come, then.” The moment he dropped his boxers you zeroed in on his half hard length, how his hand went immediately there as he kept his eyes on you, his timid side completely overpowered by his lust for you. You loved the effect you have on him. He joined you in the shower, not sure about what to do.

“Tell me what to do,” you asked him.

“Act like I wasn’t here,” he requested. “What would you do if I weren’t here?”

You smirked, fingers naturally coming to your clit, your left hand fumbling a little to reinsert the dildo inside you. When the head went past your entrance you let out a heavy moan.

His eyes went wide, his own sex quivering a little, now reaching its full length and touching against his belly button.

“I’m already so close.” You whispered, eyes half closed.

“How long have you been like this.”

“Maybe ten minutes, don’t really know.” You shut your eyes as the silicone stimulated an especially tender spot.

“You look glorious.” He said. You smiled, another moan parting from your lips. “Keep going. You’re close.” Your fingers now circling furiously on your clit, you heard the loud smacking of your ass against the tiles pick up again.

When you saw him start stroking himself, one hand pressing himself from above, one from below, his fingers laced so to apply pressure along all the shaft, you felt something snap inside you. Your eyes were hungry for him, the sight of him crumbling. He groaned as you reached for your breast, fingers tweaking the nipple.

He felt so close himself. It wasn’t surprising at all, considering it had been a while since you last had sex - period and all of that - so the moment he saw your body grow looser and messier, a high pitched whine escaping your lips as your fingers lest their rhythm, he knew he was done. Your orgasm triggered his, face scrunched in pleasure, one hand desperately going for the wall behind you to prop himself up. “Baby, yes.” He cried when your hands touched his back, snaking behind him. You felt his cum on your belly, slowly being washed away by the water.

“I need you so bad,” you whispered in his ear.

“Stay still.” He said, caressing your hair back as he abandoned his spot on your shoulder. One hand stroking from your neck, to your breast to your belly as he kneeled. The moment he realised that his semen was on you, and now trapped on his fingers, he looked at it questioningly, then he looked up at you, bambi eyes blown wide and begging as he put his stained finger on your lips. You opened your mouth for him and licked it clean.

“Such a good girl. Will you let me taste you now?”

You nodded eagerly. “Please.” That’s all it took for him to place his mouth on you, your knee bent and thrown over his shoulder. His hand kept massaging your breast, comforting the heaviness you felt there. His other arm enveloped around your waist, fingers searching for the toy attached to the wall, pressing around its suction cup to free it. You didn’t hear it pop and when you felt the tip pressing once more against you, you opened your eyes.

Jungkook, tongue pressed and rolling against your clit, eyes closed as if he were fully tasting you, enjoying every drop of you. He substituted his mouth with his thumb. “Do you want me to keep going?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Keep going.”

He immediately pushed the toy in, letting it settle while your moans echoed in the shower. Eyes fixed on you, he let his mouth lean against your pubis once more, tongue darting out to meet your essence. His free hand dipped down to grab his dick, teasing it with small motions.

“Googie, it feels so good.”

You knew it wouldn’t take you long. Especially considered that your second orgasm was always so easy, usually a few minutes away from your first. He loved eating you out on your second because you were always so pliant and relaxed, while you first was always more complicated and always risked turning in a bilaterally stressful experience.

Touching himself one handed was slightly uncomfortable, but considering that he had you on his tongue and he could take advantage of the gorgeous vision of your chest inflating and deflating with you heavy breathing made quite the trick, his sex throbbing with need, his neck and face pressing you against the wall, so that you couldn’t escape his ministration, your writhing only causing you to roll from his mouth to the dildo without any chance of reprieve.

Suddenly grabbing his hair you felt your second high hit you, your standing leg shaking so bad you thought you would fall. Jungkook completely lost touch with reality as you started riding his face, your calf on his back only drawing him closer, trapping him. He felt his own release approach as your high diminished, letting go of the base of the toy only to use both his hands on himself.

When your vision finally focused again you were met with the sight of his head rolled back, his jaw clenched and the beautiful length of his cock slightly inflating, veins showing, as he finally came in his hand. You felt him groan against your stomach after his torso leaned forward, looking for your support.

When he opened his eyes, slowly, he grinned at you soft and wild, kissing your belly button and carefully removing the dildo from inside you.

“We should do this more often.”

You chuckled. You hoped you would.

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagine #bts headcanons #bts scenario #bts maknae line #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine #jungkook imagine #jimin scenario #taehyung scenario #jungkook scenario #jimin x reader #teahyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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kiseki-no-scenarios · 5 years ago

Photo

I was so excited to write for this prompt, thank you dear anon!! This post runs a little longer than usual because of how many ideas I have for Akashi, but hopefully that isn’t a problem~ It’s always fun to find others that have your same biases! >o<

I purposely left some of the details regarding some portions of the relationship (wedding, marriage, etc.) vague so that in the future if I get a request for a more detailed version, I can expand on it there!

Rakuzan Manager!Reader x Akashi Seijuro Relationship Headcanons

Meeting You

Going off of my previous Rakuzan manager headcanon, I think that Akashi first meets you when you were applying for the position to be their new manager

After an incident in which you held your ground and were not afraid to speak your mind to Akashi, (for details click here)he was impressed by your attitude and gave you the official position

Akashi had an impressive aura, but did not choose to stand out in the group. He preferred to calmly observe and oversee a situation, stepping in and giving orders only when necessary

Although the two of you initially did not speak all that often, Akashi knew very well just how much effort you were putting into being their manager

He would often observe how you’d stay late to double check that everything had been completed, and how you didn’t shy away from daunting tasks

He was also pleased that you were taking more initiative in helping out the team by starting to collect statistics and data, observing the members closely during practice

The first time the two of you started interacting more was when you had approached him with some ideas for practice

“Akashi-kun, could you spare me a minute?”

“_____. What is it?”

“Something I’ve noticed…” Flipping through the pages on your clipboard, you circle a section before turning it around to Akashi. “It seems that Hayama-kun’s success rate is higher when he receives passes from his left, rather than his right. I was wondering if you had noticed this as well?”

Akashi’s eyebrows rose sightly as he looked at the numbers you had written down, explaining the observation in great detail. “I must admit, I had not.” Making a mental note to address that in their future practice, Akashi turned and gave you a soft smile. “Thank you, _____. Continue doing your best for our team.”

After that, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Akashi to seek you out when he had questions about the player’s conditions. He trusted your opinion and relied upon your observations

It didn’t occur to him that he viewed you as a potential romantic partner until one day he realized how he was more and more often staying late, waiting for you to finish up so he could make sure you got home safely

He also realized just how much he enjoyed you, as a person, as he listened to you chat to him about various different topics on your way home

It seems that I may have fallen for you, _____. Akashi thought to himself, a small smile playing on his lips as he quietly observed the way the streetlamp shone down on you as the sun continued to set.

The moment was just so perfect, and Akashi felt that the time had come to address the growing admiration he had for you.

Confession and Falling in Love

Akashi likely doesn’t change very much during the period after he realizes that he has a crush on you and before he confesses

He’s much like he was previously, but is more insistent and present to assist you whenever you need help, and it was a regular occurrence for the two of you to head home together

Akashi starts being more expressive around you, and his aura seems to be more relaxed when he speaks with you

You may not have realized it at first, but the other members of Rakuzan, who have seen the way Akashi was previously, definitely notice a difference

I don’t think any of them would make a comment since they might still be terrified of Akashi or what he would do

Akashi feels confident that you would respond positively to his confession, but he is in no rush so he waits for the perfect moment

That moment presents itself soon, following a practice match between Rakuzan and Yosen

The game was close but Rakuzan pulled through with a win in the end

The others had decided to get dinner together, but you had refused saying that you had some things to finish up before you could leave for the day

Akashi decided to stay behind with you, and he followed you to the classroom where you were starting to organize the notes you had collected during the match.

It was during this moment as he looked at the dedication you had that the strength of his feeling flared in his chest and he knew that now was the perfect time.

“_____.” Akashi said, grabbing your attention.

“Akashi-san? What is it?” You respond, your cheeks flushing instinctively from the intensity of his gaze.

“I have a very important question for you, _____.” You see Akashi’s hands reach out towards you, but you hesitate as you pull back slightly.

“Akashi-san, sorry, my hands are dirty and scratched at the moment.” You were embarrassed at the multiple paper cuts that dotted your fingers. Your fingers looked worn compared to Akashi’s fingers which while calloused, were free of marks and scratches.

“No matter. I love these hands of yours, _____.” Gently yet firmly gripping your hands, Akashi raised the palm of your hand up to his lips, turning his head slightly as he planted the lightest brush of his lips onto your palm. “These hands have always worked so hard for us, and I do not see them as anything besides beautiful.”

“Akashi-san…” You whisper, unable to move or tear your eyes from his gaze. “I…”

“Seijuro. Please, call me by my first name.” Akashi-now Seijuro-murmurs. He takes your hand in both of his, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “I would like to express my desire to court you, my _____.”

You couldn’t help but startle slightly, hearing him address you by our first name. “Seijuro…You really want me?”

“Of course. No one else would do.” Seijuro replies, and the smile that touches his lips brings nothing but warmth into your chest. In lieu of verbal acceptance, you quietly nod as Seijuro grins, kissing the back of your hand.

Dating

Akashi continues to be as gentlemanly as ever, and doesn’t change much except for the fact that he is more expressive towards you and wanting to make sure that the two of you always have time to spend together

It’s pretty easy for the Rakuzan members to realize that the two of you are dating, given the way Akashi looks at you and how the two of you now regularly arrive and leave practice hand in hand

There’s some gentle teasing here and there, but overall the members are excited for the both of you and think that the two of you really work as a great couple

In terms of PDA, I can’t see Akashi being overly touchy feely or affectionate but it’s easy to tell that the two of you are in a relationship by the aura that surrounds you

He always walks with you side by side in the hallway and will touch your hand while the two of you are talking

There’s probably some jealously from female members of the student council but Akashi pretty easily shuts that down

“I’ll come pick you up after class, _____.”

“Ah, thank you Akashi-san.” You reply, but Akashi presses a finger to your lips.

“Didn’t we agree that you’d call me by my first name?” Akashi states. “I don’t like repeating myself so often, _____.”

“Okay, S-Seijuro.” You’re embarrassed by the attention you were drawing to yourself, but it was worth it for the smile that Akashi gave you.

“Akashi-sama!”

Akashi lets out a quiet sigh as he removes his finger from your lips. “I wish we had more time together, my _____.”

“Akashi-sama!”

You shake your head. “I appreciate it, Seijuro, but you are busy. And it sounds like they are trying to summon you.”

“No matter. Ignore them for now, _____-“

“Seijuro-sama!”

The air suddenly grows cold around you as you watch Akashi whip his head around, eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Watch your tone. I did not give you permission to address me by my given name.”

“B-But, Seijuro-sama, _____-san was calling you that, so I thought-“

“Only _____ is allowed to call me by name.” Akashi states, his voice cold and unfeeling. “It is reserved only for my lover. Know your place.”

When the girl finally backs off, Akashi turns back to you, returning to his previous state. “As I said, I will be waiting for your outside your classroom this afternoon.”

Proposal and Wedding

Akashi has always known that you were the woman that he’d make his wife, so like he was when he first asked you to be his girlfriend, he was in no rush to proposed to you

It was a given that it would happen, so he was waiting again for the perfect time

The two of you had been dating for several years at this point, and were now university students attending the same university and living together off campus

Akashi as planned had started taking business courses and political science in preparation to take over his family’s business, but was able to make time to still meet up with his old teammates and members of the GOM to play basketball

Originally you were struggling with choosing what you wanted to do, and Akashi had given you his full support to pursue whatever it was that would make you happy

Eventually, you decide to become a financial analyst-you had a lot of natural talent from your data collecting and analyst skills as Rakuzan’s former manager, and you decided that you also wanted to be able to support Akashi in his professional life

Akashi was worried that he may have been influencing your choice too much, but you genuinely enjoyed the coursework and having courses in common with your beloved

Akashi decides to start planning his proposal when the two of you are finishing up your studies in university-originally, he was wanting to wait until both of you had graduated but he realized that he didn’t want to wait any longer for you to officially take his last name

He asks Momoi to take you out to a jewelry store under the guise of a girl’s shopping date to see what your preference was towards rings

Momoi is more than happy to help, and stealthily sends him pictures of you looking at different gemstones, bands, and styles

Akashi ends up contacting the jewelry store and requests a custom-made ring to fit your tastes (and of course Momoi knows your size from a quick glance)

For the proposal itself, Akashi decides that something memorable for the two of you would fit you more than something grand and flashy

One day, he asks if you’d like to go for a drive to visit some of the places where the two of you had made memories during high school

It was a fun date, getting to eat at the restaurants you had often visited as a high-schooler, and seeing all the familiar sights and sounds

You were drifting off and slightly tired when Akashi pulls up to Rakuzan

“Seijuro? Why are we here?” You ask, rubbing your eyes as Akashi opens your door, escorting you out of your seat.

“I was missing our old high school.” Akashi replied, taking your hand as the two of you began to stroll around the grounds.

“Wow…nothing has changed.” You exclaim, looking up at the building and the immaculately trimmed grounds. “I feel like we were students here just yesterday…”

Akashi continues to quietly observe you as you walk around, taking in the nostalgic signs and scenes.

“Oh, and here’s where we would all hang out when we needed a break from practice! Let’s go sit down, Sei-“

You had turned around to get his attention, but all of the breath left your lungs when you saw Akashi sink down into a kneeling posture.

“Sei-Seijuro…” You whisper, tears already coming to your eyes at the sight in front of you.

“_____. I love you.” Akashi begins, his red eyes clear and sparkling as he gazes up at you. In his hands, he opens a small, velvet box, exposing a ring. “You have always been by my side. Your passion and dedication towards all that you do has always moved my heart since day one. Please, my _____. Become my wife and stand by my side, forever.”

You couldn’t hold back your cries of happiness as you leap towards him, hugging him tightly around his neck as you sobbed into his coat. “Yes, of course…yes!”

Wrapping his arms around your back tightly, Akashi buries his face into your hair as he continues to whisper how much he loves you.

And that night, only the moon serves witness to the tears that slip out of his beautiful red eyes.

Your engagement ring was beautifully designed, adorned with a single diamond that shined elegantly

Akashi knew that you didn’t always like to wear items with large gemstones, so he made sure to select a diamond that was known for its brilliance rather than its size

He never hesitates to bring your hand up to his lips and gently kiss your ring finger whenever the two of you are together, and how much it makes you blush from happiness

Regarding your wedding, the two of you decided to plan a private wedding for only you and close friends while having the wedding planner handle the bigger affair that was needed for someone of Akashi’s social standing

It touched your heart how much Akashi wanted you to have the type of wedding you dreamed of, and how much he participated in the planning

The two of you decide against a destination wedding for your private ceremony so that all of your friends would be able to attend

Your wedding takes place shortly after graduation, surrounded by your family and friends it’s a day you won’t forget

The two of you had prepared your own wedding vows and needless to say, you were glad Momoi had done your makeup with waterproof products because of how often you were tearing up during the event

Husband!Akashi

Again, I don’t think that Akashi will change all that much when he becomes your husband, he’ll be as loving and attentive as always

Everyone that works for him knows about his happy marriage and how much he cherishes you; his normally immaculate desk would be adorned with pictures from your wedding, honeymoon, etc.

And he was not shy to wear his wedding band no matter where he was at

Akashi has always been a very responsible person, and it’s important for him to be present in his marriage

So he makes it a point to never have to work overtime more than once a week, and always tries to make sure that the two of you eat lunch or dinner together

The two of you rarely fight since you’ve always been on the same page as each other, but in the rare occasions where you two have a disagreement, Akashi is always the one that seeks to apologize and clear the air between you too before it goes too far

Whenever Akashi needs to leave for business trips, he always travels with a picture of the two of you in his wallet and makes sure that he can maintain in contact with you, always being sure to call you before you settle in for bed

Honestly, the only thing that could make him happier right now is if the two of you started having a family together

Which fortunately for him, comes fairly soon~

“I’m home, _____.” Akashi calls as he locks the door behind him, slipping off his shoes and loosening his tie.

“Welcome home, Seijuro!” Making your way to the foyer, you smile brightly at your husband as you take his jacket. “How was work?”

“The usual. I’m happy to be home.” Tugging you in by the waist, Akashi plants a kiss against your willing lips. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. But, I have a surprise too.” You reply, pulling on his hand.

“Oh? What is it?”

“Close your yes.” Akashi obediently closes his eyes as he feels a envelope being pressed into his hand. “You can open them now.”

Sliding the letter out of the envelope, Akashi’s eyes skim across the words quickly before he stops, his eyes widening in shock.

“My love…is this…?”

“It is.” You nod, a giant smile stretching across your lips. “You’re going to be a father.”

Akashi can’t help the smile that lights up his entire face as he pulls you against him, hugging you tight. “Finally…We’re starting a family now, _____.” He slowly lowers himself down to his knees as his hands slide over your stomach, his voice full of wonder.

“Hello, little one.” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to your belly. “I already love you, so, so much.”

#knb #knb headcanons #knb scenarios #knb imagines #akashi seijuro #akashi x reader #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket

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stvllioner · 4 years ago

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TW: MENTIONS OF DISCOURSE, GR//MING, P/D/PHILIA, ASS//LT, C//NSENT, D//RK CONTENT.

- this isnt under a read more because i want people to read this, but please read past this/tread carefully if you cannot handle such topics. this is not meant to be interacted with.

I'm not sure how to really go about this. I've been overthinking if I should address this and bring up some stuff while I've been gone, so sorry the absence. I deleted the tumblr app a few days ago and I downloaded it again today so i could post this. I really don't like making posts like this because it cuts the vibe that I've been trying to portray that everything is okay and it makes me feel really disconnected to you guys. I am sorry for the abrupt absence and cutting off any source of communication between us. I knew if I left any form of direct line of talk to me that I would receive hate and I just mentally decided that I cant sit through being harassed right now.

Have you guys ever paid attention to the same people who always have a statement to say or is always in discourse? It's very telling how everyone can post about me, but I shouldnt dare post about them. I'm tired of not being able to post about what I want without people vague posting about me, bringing me up every time they start another discourse with another writer or directly talking about me. My days on here are starting to feel the same. Its good then it goes bad. Good goes bad and bad goes good. It's not even tiring, annoying, or angering -- its repetitive. When I'm not saying anything people create fake stories about me, and when i speak about it im the one starting discourse. Don't get me wrong, I'm nowhere near perfect and I have made my own mistakes. But why the fuck am I always being told to be the mature one, why am I the one who should've done better, why do you people expect so much from me. It's the fact people are always quick to say, "no one cares about you, youre fishing for attention" when they're the ones who vague and interact with me while ive been minding my business for months now. Hm. The fact people have me proudly blocked but still harass me anyways shows a lot about themselves than it does for me. How its such an issue that im a minor until it comes to demonizing, tearing down my character, gaslighting, lying and bullying. I'm a literal example of how their friend group manipulates their followers and exiles people from fandoms for not kissing their ass. except now its in your face.

Consider this my last post about this discourse. I'm not going to waste my time on people who fail to digest other peoples thoughts and opinions time and time again because theyre weak narcissists. If I so choose to decide to shit post my opinions or argue with someone, none of you should be aggravated or moved by it because youre not even supposed to be on my page. If its not something serious i will not be wasting energy that i can be using to build on myself as a growing person than on miserable old ladies that have to use fanfiction to have excitement in their pity, depressing and lackluster lives. If people so do choose to create stories or vague about me, I do not care. So I ask respectfully to people who do lurk on my page to not attempt to message, post or vague about me please. This includes sending anons to yourself to make shit happen.

Past that, something got me thinking. My (older) friend had showed me screenshots of adult writers (no one i have spoken to) that were very excited to write underaged reader with adult characters. There are other instances where writers (that you have probably read from) on here openly made reader underage while aging characters up as adults/with adults. There are many more but there's really no point in listing them nor do I really care. But least to say, the same people who are gung-ho over these pedophilic themes/stories are the same people who support predatory people.

I've been thinking about whether or not i should continue writing for the students anymore. Granted, I still think they're attractive because one snap of the fingers cant stop that. I had been teetering on this thought for awhile because of how borderline pedophilic the people are here towards my age group. I enjoy writing but not to the point of willingly being in a straight line of sight where people who are well over 16 are harassing me and lurking on my page, especially to other minors solely because they are my friends. Backtracking to the statement before, I honestly dont know if I will either stop writing or just for the students as a whole. It shows that clearly some people are using their attraction to teens with the excuse that the characters are fake. The rapid normalization on dark problematic "kinks" is disgusting and vile, and the fact that its discourse now to shame said interests is appalling. Concluding that combined with my experiences here, i feel unsafe.

***(TRIGGER WARNING)*** I dont talk about my personal life on here that much cause I dont see the need too nor do i think its anyone's business. Paired with the fact that the people i have trusted personal information with have used it against me, I will be preventing myself from opening that door. Besides that for now, I have sparsely shared I've been assaulted before. This is my first time really opening up about this and i kind of find it necessary now. Coming from someone who has been a victim of assault and CP by people my age and well over, writing nsfw has been the only way where I could feel comfortable with sex in general. I won't get into details because mentioning this is triggering already and can make people uncomfortable. It feels like anywhere I go, I'm constantly putting myself in a position to be abused. The same people who told me I didn't have to worry about my age and be judged for it, exposed the minimum comfort of keeping myself private online to demonize, judge and hurt me. People call me "extra" for being distraught about my face and age being posted because they think im trying to be sneaky which isn't the case. Its the principle that they KNEW I wasnt ready to share said things, and coming from someone who is inherently a private and closed person, she knew damn well what she was doing when posting screenshots of me on Tumblr. There is no excuse for it. The same writers who write dub/non-con can BARELY understand basic consent and its fucking terrifying. This site was the only other place I could cope without being criticized. To see people who some i was close to proudly lie on my name, (adults) say that i sent them pornographic content without their consent is so very hurtful. To watch people supposedly be victims and then use their own trauma to invalidate my own was so fucking humiliating, disgusting and nerve wracking. Although I knew I made the terrible decision to interact with stories, I have never initiated any NSFW discussion with anyone in DMs unless they did it with me first and a few times -- and trust me raise your hand I'll show you the proof. I was sure that everyone I talked to regularly knew that I was a minor, and to my general consensus, people were under the impression I was 15/16 (which I was and am).***

Whether it be victim blaming from the grooming discourse, I've been met with racism, harassment towards my friends, people wanting me to harm myself and be assaulted. I fear what will happen when i will turn 18, if the harassment will escalate and what not. A big part of me is that I'm still here anyways because it pisses people off and I don't care when I receive hate. I can take it but I don't want it. A good conscious of me knows that I should be doing what's best for me but at the end I'm still attached to my ego-self with the added fact that I sincerely enjoy interacting with my followers and posting stories.

I just don't know how the options look. I'll probably be updating my blog rules as of right now. I've been writing more sfw lately because of this and it'd be nice if you guys supported those until I properly decide. I still have plenty of requests of a bunch of characters (mostly Bakugo and Dabi) and original stuff (all sfw & nsfw) that I really wanna share with you guys. But I just ask that what I do modify that you will respect it like you would to any other writer on here.

Stay safe, keep your mask on, and thank you.

#discourse #tw discourse #tw: discourse #sav talks

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

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Not Losing You (Part 4)

Summary: The reader has a confrontation with her parents before Dean gets some news about his prognosis...

Masterlist

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, life-threatening illness, implied past sexual harassment/assault

_____

You froze halfway down the hall of the hospital the next morning. There were your parents standing outside of Dean’s room. You took a step forward before Sam rounded the corner and walked over to you.

“I’m not entirely sure how they found out about the Liam situation,” said Sam, pulling you away to a quiet hallway. “I’m guessing the douchebag had something to do with it. Either way, they know and Dean is pissed at them. A lot. I need them to leave. The stress isn’t good.”

“I’ll get rid of them,” you said as you closed your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I don’t know and it’s not my business. Let’s save whatever this is though for a little time from now, alright?” he said.

“Yeah,” you said. “Benny and Cas will be by later they said. They should cheer Dean up.”

“I’m sorry Jess and I were out of town last night. Dean told us about your fight. We would have-”

“Sam. I’m okay. I’ll deal with this,” you said. After forcing a smile, you headed back down the hall, waving the two of them to you and away from Dean’s room. Sam walked past them and you frowned when they followed you to a waiting room. “What is wrong with you two? This is not the place-”

“Well we couldn’t find an address for you and since you refuse to answer the phone, we came to the one place we thought we could find you at,” said your dad.

“This is a hospital. We are in a very special area of the hospital mind you. The people here need rest and calm and you two showing up at my recovering boyfriend’s hospital room…” you said, tilting your head back. “Outside. Now.”

Three minutes later you were in the visitors parking lot, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

“Y/N-”

“Mom…” you said, holding up a hand. “Never, and I mean never, come here without my explicit permission again. Either one of you.”

“You are acting-” said your dad, your mom putting a hand on his chest. He took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re angry with us. We understand. But this Liam guy? Why didn’t you ever talk to us?”

“What part of you disowning me made you think I would ever speak to you about anything ever again?” you asked.

“You walked out on us,” he said.

“George grabbed my ass and you said I was making it up, then you said I was overreacting and that I’d embarrassed you two in front of the family and you really wonder why I wouldn’t tell you about fucking Liam? A situation that was a million times worse? I walked away because my parents didn’t believe me and then said maybe I’m single because I don’t realize when men are attracted to me. The last thing I need is dating advice from you two,” you said.

“Are you okay?” asked your mom. You shrugged but tilted your head.

“For the first time in a long time, actually, yeah, I am. My life is far from perfect but I have some good people in it now,” you said. She gave you a half-smile, watching you lean against a light post and cross your arms. “What do you want?”

“We came to apologize and make sure you’re okay. We couldn’t find an address for you,” said your dad.

“I’m kinda between places right now. I’m staying at my boyfriend’s,” you said.

“You two must be pretty serious,” he said. “How long have you been together?”

“Two months give or take,” you said.

“Two months?” asked your mom. “You’re already living together?”

“If you’re going to judge a situation you know nothing about-”

“We’re surprised is all,” she said.

“You said that’s a special part of the hospital,” said your dad.

“Yeah. It is. My boyfriend has cancer. It was fatal until he had a transplant done and there’s been ups and downs but after the next few weeks...odds are he’s going to be okay,” you said.

“He spoke to us for a moment before you arrived. He told us you were his donor,” said your dad.

“So.”

“So you’ve been going through a lot lately, obviously. We don’t have the full picture and…” said your dad.

“Spit it out already,” you said.

“I am sorry. We’re both sorry. We were wrong to not believe you and to tell you to brush it off and...we’re sorry. There was nothing wrong with you being single. We were assholes. We’re sorry. We know something is wrong. We don’t know what but we want to help however we can,” he said.

“I’ll think about the apology but I don’t want your help right now. You two have to rebuild our trust. From scratch. You will have to earn it back and maybe then, I will accept future help. But until then, the best thing for you both to do is to give Dean space and me too to be honest. If I decide I want a relationship again, I will contact you, understand?”

“Okay,” said your mom, digging into her purse. “We understand. We’ll be in town. We’ll let you know where we end up staying but we’ll wait for you to come to us.”

“Thank you,” you said. She held out an envelope at you and you took it, rolling your eyes when you opened it up.

“It’s $5,000. If you need it-” she said before you stuck it back in her purse.

“Mom. It’s your money, not mine. I’m okay. Please give me some space and time. That’s what I want from you both right now,” you said.

“Alright,” said your dad. “If you ever need help, just let us know.”

“I will,” you said as you headed back inside.

“Y/N? Doing what you did for that the young man...we screwed up but we must have done something right,” he said.

“You’re not bad people. You made mistakes. I have to decide if I want to forgive you is all,” you said. “I gotta check on Dean. I’ll contact you later.”

You headed back inside and up to Dean’s room, grateful to find him back in bed resting.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you said, leaning against the window. He sat up in bed and gave you a smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I told them to give me space. They finally believe me it seems. Somehow they found out about Liam. Probably from him. He was probably hoping they’d take his side,” you said. You turned around, Dean tsking you. After a moment you took a seat and looked over, Dean smiling at you.

“Do me a favor. Give them a chance to apologize,” he said. “One of us should have a relationship with our parents and for me that ship has sailed.”

“I’ll try. Your friends Benny and Cas, they’re good guys,” you said.

“Yeah. They’re alright,” he smirked. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Me too,” you said. “I’m sorry I got so mad. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You were just trying to protect me.”

“It’s not an excuse like I said before. We’re together. I need to tell you things like that,” he said. “We’re okay, sweetheart.”

“Still feeling better?” you asked.

“Yeah. More energy today for sure. We’ll get through this. I promise.”

One Month Later

“Rossy,” said Dean, practically jumping out of his seat when the doctor walked in his office.

“Quite the crew here today,” he said, looking over your head at Sam, Jess, Benny and Cas. “Alright. As I’m sure you’re all aware, Dean’s had a rough few months. He underwent a transplant and participated in a specialized treatment plan to help his immune system come back.”

“Rossy,” said Dean, bouncing his knee. “Can I go home or not?”

“Always impatient,” said Dr. Ross as he took a seat behind his desk. “I know you’re itching to go home Dean but we need to make sure you’re healthy enough first.”

“What’d my tests show?” asked Dean, grabbing your hand. “Am I still screwed?”

“Remission,” he said with a smile, Dean letting out the breath he was holding. “With no signs of it coming back which is a very good sign. Your counts are in a normal range. You’re still a little underweight but once you begin to eat regularly again, I don’t worry about that.”

“I can go home?” he asked.

“Yes, you can go home, Dean. As you know, the first year is the hardest but you’re doing well. I need you to keep a close eye on yourself so we can nip anything in the bud if it pops up but I am cautiously optimistic about the odds of recurrence right now,” he said.

“So how do we know that it ain’t ever going to come back?” asked Benny.

“We don’t. We don’t know if any of us in this room will get sick someday either. But these milestones are important and Dean’s been hitting them and then some,” he said.

“Say it doesn’t come back,” said Sam. “What...does he…”

“I gonna live long enough to get old or did this thing screw that up for me I think is what Sammy’s trying time ask,” said Dean.

“If you take care of yourself and we get through the rest of this year with no major setbacks, I see no reason you couldn’t live a full and normal life,” he said.

“If I get through the rest of the year,” said Dean.

“Yes but it’s been two months already. A majority of the time, if something were to go wrong, it would have happened. I’m not saying you’re in the clear yet but I would say you can call this one a win today,” he said.

“Good,” said Dean, squeezing your hand. “That’s...good.”

“Y/N,” said Dr. Ross after everyone left the office, Sam off with Dean to help him get discharged. “A quick word if you don’t mind.”

“Yes?” you asked.

“I’ve had this conversation with Dean before but I felt we should have it as well. Most donors do not have the...relationship you do,” he said.

“Are we like...not allowed to kiss or something?” you asked.

“No, no,” he laughed. “You may do any and all things a couple would ordinarily do. I would advise holding off on anything physical until he gets more strength back. But I wanted to talk to you, ask how you’re doing after the transplant.”

“Fine?” you said. “Dean’s the one-“

“You underwent a medical procedure too. We took a bit more than we wanted to and I’m not the only one to notice you’re looking a little rundown still. I know this is a stressful process but you need to take care of yourself. I’ve made it clear to Dean that I want you both to take some time and rest. Hang around home for the next week or so. No work. Try to recover,” he said.

“I appreciate it Dr. Ross but-“

“No buts. You will do this, hm?”

“I need to work.”

“I will give you a doctors note and I know you work with Jessica so stop making up excuses. Sit. Rest. Enjoy the company of your boyfriend in your own home,” he said. “Understood?”

“Okay, okay,” you said holding up your hands. “I’ll take it easy.”

“Good. You guys deserve a break.”

Four Months Later

“Dean, I’m home,” you said, carrying some groceries into the apartment. He was quiet on the couch as you went past. You set the bags down and returned. “Dean. What’s wrong?”

“My parents know about me being sick,” said Dean. “Sam called. He figures it was Liam since they’re getting close on wrapping up your case.”

“Have you talked to them?” you asked as you sat down.

“No. They don’t know where I live. I haven’t spoken to them in years,” he said.

“Do you want to talk to them?” you asked.

“I don’t know. It’s been a long time. Things didn’t end well and they’ll be angry I didn’t tell them,” he said.

“I’m not going to say that you should. I know my own parents are...questionable right now but they did move here to be close to me. They’re trying and I’m trying to forgive them. I’m more concerned with the best thing for you,” you said.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe they’ll be more understanding when they see how successful the garage is,” you said.

“It wasn’t just what I wanted to do for a living that led to everything,” he said.

“I kinda always figured that. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said.

“Dad and I weren’t getting along because of the whole mechanic thing. It was no big deal though. We would have gotten past it. But...Sammy and I were in a little car accident. My dad was wasted when we got home and we told him about it. He lost his cool,” said Dean.

“He hit you,” you said.

“He was mad. Then he turned to Sammy and I thought not gonna happen and so I hit back,” said Dean. “It turned into a fight and after it was over, I left for good. I told my mom what happened but she made an excuse for his behavior and that wasn’t good enough for me. I get it. I was a hot head back then too but I wanted an apology and I never got it. Now, it’s been too long.”

“Sam still has a relationship with them, right?” you asked.

“Yeah. He says dad’s a different guy but he was always different with Sam. He’s never mentioned wanting to reconnect with me though so I always figured that bridge was burned,” said Dean.

“Do you think they still love you?”

He turned his head and looked at you, offering a small nod.

“Do you still love them?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “But I won’t go to them. If he wants to apologize, they both do, they can come to me.”

“You can always offer to meet them in public, that way they don’t know where you live,” you said.

“Yours still don’t know you lived out of your car for half a year, do they,” he said.

“No. They know about Liam but I told them that since the case is settled, I don’t want to talk about it ever again,” you said.

“When do you get the payout?” asked Dean.

“Two weeks,” you said, looking around. “We can buy a townhouse, something bigger than this if you want.”

“How much is it again?” he asked.

“I never told you the actual figure,” you said, looking down at your lap. “It’s a lot.”

“How much a lot?” he asked.

“Seven figures a lot,” you said.

“Shit. Rich people will do anything to keep shit quiet. How much time is he serving?”

“To be determined. I let the other family members off the hook for the payout. I don’t care about the money. I just want Liam put away and he will be so I’m happy with that,” you said.

“I never found out what he did to you,” he said.

“Liam...told everyone that I sexually harassed him at work and got physical even, against his will. He was my young attractive boss and I was his underling. He convinced everyone I hurt him and did things to him. Bastard,” you said.

“He did those things to you though.”

“I turned him down. No one turns him down. I turned him down over and over again but I didn’t report it because if I got fired, I had nowhere in town to go or no one. I wasn’t in the best state of mind back then. He called me into this conference room he was working out of one night, a big deadline project sort of deal. I thought it was just work and then I got dizzy and he had slipped something into my coffee. He touched what he wanted and did what he wanted and when I came in the next day to report it, he’d already spread the word about what I’d done to him,” you said.

“You know...I won’t let anyone do that to you ever again. I know you can take care of yourself and he tricked you but just in general. I’m not gonna let someone hurt you like that,” he said.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you either,” you said, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he said.

“Ditto,” you said, poking the scar on his arm from his IV line. He brushed his thumb over the spot.

“I should be dying you realize. I should have half a year left, if that,” he said.

“No, you really shouldn’t,” you said, leaning over and kissing him.

“I hit six months okay. Rossy said that’s a big milestone,” he said.

“Still nothing?” you asked.

“It’s not back. Fingers crossed,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder. “Right?”

“Right?” you asked.

“I know you went to Rossy’s office earlier this week. You came home kind of quiet like,” he said.

“I donated more marrow,” you said. “Not as much as before but it wore me down.”

“Does someone else need-”

“It’s for you,” you said. He cocked his head and you smiled. “Just in case.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I donated for research. If you ever...if it ever came back, years from now, not that I’m expecting it to but if it did...I want them to have a healthy sample so they can figure out a better cure for you, something more permanent,” you said.

“You got to stop saving my life, sweetheart. It makes it really hard for me to use the I left my dishes in the sink excuse,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you said. He was quiet but smiled for a few minutes, running his finger over your hip.

“I need to talk to my parents,” he said.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked Dean that night as you settled into bed.

“Better,” he said softly, taking a deep breath. “I never knew my dad went to therapy after that whole thing.”

“Did he seem different?” you asked.

“Yeah. I think the whole me almost dying thing put everything into perspective,” he said, snuggling into you, a shuddering breath leaving his body. “I don’t want to go through it again. I don’t want to be scared anymore.”

“I can’t promise it won’t ever come back, Dean,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. “But there’s a lot of stuff we don’t know will happen either. Accidents or getting sick or whatever. But we can’t live being scared of everything.”

“You sound different than when we met you know,” he said.

“I’m happier,” you said. “I was...neither one of us were in great places when we met, Dean. But you changed my life all because you asked if I was okay.”

“Granted I was also about to pass out,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but you were kind. I forgot what that was like,” you said.

“You wanted to be my friend despite everything,” he said, turning his head towards yours. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you said, kissing him gently, his lips soft as he rolled over and pulled you into his chest.

“Do you want to do something fun this weekend? Take a trip?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’d really like that,” you said, rubbing your hand up and down his arm. “No camping though.”

“If I hit my year mark with no badness, you are so going camping with me,” he said. “Deal?”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “Maybe we could make it a group thing. Invite the boys and Sam and Jess.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He took a deep breath and you felt him finally start to relax from the day. “You okay?”

“Mhm. You?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m okay again, sweetheart . Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to marry me?”

You sat up in bed, your heart skipping a beat.

“I know I said two years but I got a good feeling,” he said. “What do you say? Want to put up with me for however long that is?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding as he pulled you into a kiss. “Yeah. I take care of you, you take care of me. It’s our thing after all.”

“Wouldn’t want to stop now,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “Sweetheart?”

“You’re still okay, right?” you asked.

“Still okay,” he chuckled. “I was gonna say, you lost the bet.”

“I did not,” you laughed. “You cheated and asked early.”

“Sue me. You are far too attractive for your own good,” he said.

“Sure I am, Casanova,” you said, getting another kiss from him. “I got my hottie.”

“We both got our hottie’s,” he said. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

______

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au

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quickspinner · 5 years ago

Text

Beautiful Dreams - Ch 5 Reality Check

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

I hope you enjoy this chapter in the meantime!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just returning the favor,” Juleka mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Luka…”

“Yeah?”

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

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

***

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

“Enjoy your date?” Adrien growled.

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

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

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

“If it gets out—”

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

Adrien reared back a little. “That—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luka nodded. “Later, Adrien.”

“Asshole,” Adrien muttered as he left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Luka?”

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

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

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

Louis nodded slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sophisticated?” Luka grinned.

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

Luka tried not to laugh. “So what?”

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

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

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

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

Louis nodded.

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

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

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

Louis opened his mouth and then shut it again.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Louis gave a little smile.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Worth it, like, the one worth it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because an opportunity has come up for Louis—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rough day up until now, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, do you maybe want to grab coffee tomorrow?” Luka asked on impulse. “I’ve got students in the afternoon, but in the morning—”

“I can’t,” Marinette nearly whined, and Luka bit down on a smile that wanted to become a laugh. “I’d really love to, but I can’t. I have um—plans already. For brunch.” She sighed like she was genuinely disappointed.

“Okay,” he said, smile fading slightly. “Some other time then.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said unhappily. “Some other time. Soon.”

“Soon, for sure,” Luka said quickly, the smile coming back a bit. “Goodnight, Marinette.”

“Goodnight, Luka,” Marinette sighed, and though he preferred hearing her happy, it gave him a little flutter that she seemed so reluctant to say it.

***

“Hey, man,” Luka grinned, crouching down to get a better look at Louis. “Spiderman, I like it.” He indicated the shirt under Louis’ button-down. Instead of his usual green Gabriel brand t-shirt, he sported black t-shirt with a red spiderman emblem on his chest. Louis grinned broadly and shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“Really?” he asked shyly.

“Yeah,” Luka nodded. “That’s from the new movie, right? The animated one?”

“Yeah,” Louis lit up. “It’s sooooo good!” He paused. “It’s not exactly new, though. It’s been out on Blu-Ray for a while already.”

“Man, I’m so out of touch,” Luka sighed with a lopsided smile. “The soundtrack is killer, I just never made the time to actually watch the movie. I didn’t realize it had been so long.” He leaned forward a little. “Your mom didn’t give you too much grief right? Do I need to talk to her?” He glanced up over Louis’ shoulder and winked at Marinette.

“Nah, my mom’s the best,” Louis beamed, looking back at her. Marinette blushed, and Luka coughed to cover a laugh.

“All right, go on back,” Luka told Louis, squeezing his shoulder as he stood up. “Warm up while we wait, the others should be here soon.”

“Okay!” Louis went around him, heading for the music room.

Luka looked back at Marinette, who was shaking her head at him.

“Charmer,” she accused, and Luka grinned, spreading his hands.

“I’m only charming because I’m honest.”

“And cute,” Marinette wrinkled her nose at him.

“Guilty,” Luka winked. “But don’t tempt me while I’m on the clock. I’m still a professional here.”

“Right,” Marinette said, reaching up to smooth her hair as she blushed. “Sorry.” She shuffled back a step, but didn’t turn to go. For a moment they just looked at each other, neither sure what to say. Piano music floated down the hallway; Louis hadn’t shut the studio door, and Luka laughed to himself as he recognized the tune of What’s Up Danger. “Wonder where he found piano music for that,” he murmured to himself, and Marinette giggled.

“The internet, probably. He’s pretty resourceful when he wants to be. Or maybe Adrien helped him find it.” She shook her head. “I should be mad at you,” she said, poking him lightly. “You could have warned me. About the whole ‘new look’ thing.”

“Ah, I probably should have,” Luka sighed, dropping his head back. “Sorry. I forgot. I don’t know, though, maybe it’s better this way. That he talked to you about it himself. Sorry if he blindsided you, though.”

Marinette shrugged. “It was a surprise, but it shouldn’t have been. He’s getting old enough to have opinions of his own on that kind of thing. I’m just happy he’s still willing to work with me on it. I don’t mind designing something more to his taste but I’d be pretty depressed if he refused to wear anything I made.”

“Why would he do that?” Luka grinned. “His mom’s the best.”

Marinette blushed again and put a hand over her face. “Stoooop,” she whined, and Luka chuckled.

“Yeah, I better.”

A familiar pattern knocked on the door before Marinette could answer, and Marinette stepped aside so Luka could open it.

“JP,” Luka grinned, greeting the boy standing there with a complicated high-five hand-shake fist bump. He raised a hand and waved to JP’s aunt, who waved back out of the car window before driving off, swerving around the town car still waiting for Marinette at the curb.

“I should—I should go,” Marinette said, squeezing past him and backing down the walk. “I’ll be back to pick up Louis later. Obviously.” Luka caught her arm and she blinked up at him.

“Step,” he reminded her with a lopsided smile, and she flushed as she took the small step down before pulling her arm away. “See you later,” he said, and she turned and waved awkwardly. Luka lingered on the doorstep, watching her get back in the car.

A cough by his elbow wiped the goofy smile off his face. Luka looked down and saw JP looking back at him with raised eyebrows. “Inside, punk, come on,” Luka muttered, shoving at the kids shoulder, and JP snickered as he went past him.

“Louis,” Luka called as they neared the studio, and the piano music stopped. “This is Jean-Paul Locke.”

“Louis Agreste,” Louis said formally, getting up from the piano bench and holding his hand out. JP gave Luka a look that asked, ‘Is this guy for real?’ but at Luka’s nod, he reached forward and shook Louis’ hand.

“Call me JP,” he said—mumbled, really, keeping his head down. Then he glanced up and smiled a little. “I like your shirt.”

“Thanks,” Louis grinned. “I like your shoes.”

JP grinned back, shuffling his graffitied kicks. “Thanks.”

“Get plugged in and tune up, JP,” Luka said, and JP let the guitar case he was carrying slide off his back. “I want you guys to listen to something.”

He got out the CD Nicoline had given him and put it in the player, watching the boys out of the corner of his eye. JP was a couple of years older than Louis, and while Luka had a complicated relationship with the word ‘prodigy,’ it fit more than it didn’t. Luka tried not to have favorite students, but JP was...a kindred spirit. He might struggle more than Louis with the technical part of making music, but Luka had never heard him play anything that didn’t come from his heart. He made everything he played his own, and Luka felt Louis had the same potential. He was hoping JP’s example would help Louis connect with his own music.

When JP looked up from his guitar, Luka started the music.

Nicoline hadn’t been lying about how good her student was. Her voice was clear and powerful, though still not quite mature, but she had that something that just hit you in the gut. Luka agreed with Nic, she was the real deal, and when he looked at the boys, he had to smile. Louis’ eyes were round, and JP looked impressed.

“Shit,” commented JP, when the music ended. Louis’ mouth dropped open and he turned to stare at the older boy. Luka sighed and smacked the back of JP’s head on his way to shut off the player.

“Come on, man, don’t make me be the swear police,” Luka admonished, and JP hunched slightly.

“Sorry. Just. Pretty nice pipes, that’s all.”

Luka hummed agreement, hooking a rolling stool with his foot and pulling it underneath him so he could sit and face the boys. “So, that’s the assignment. I want you guys to back Dez in the Spring Concert, if you’re up for it.”

“Dez?” JP snickered, and Luka rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Jean-Paul,” Luka said, with a pointed look and JP made a face. “So,” he continued. “Let’s see what you guys can do together.”

Louis and JP looked at each other, and back at Luka, and he just grinned. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, leaning back on his stool and waving towards the piano. “Play.” He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Whatever you want. Just jam together for a bit.”

“But…” Louis began, looking between Luka and JP.

“Talk about it,” Luka encouraged. “Work it out. Or, you know, one of you can just start playing and the other one can join in. Go for it.”

The boys just stood there, and finally JP rubbed a hand through his spiked hair. “You, um. You know Fallout Boy?”

Louis perked up. “Like, Big Hero 6?” He went to the piano and played a section of Immortals. Luka brought up a hand to rub his chin, covering his smile.

“Wow, you’re kind of a nerd, huh?” JP chuckled, but he went and perched on the piano bench, kicking his amp cord out of the way. “Sweet. Keep going, but pick up the tempo a bit.” He began tapping a rhythm out on the floor with his foot, and Louis increased his pace to match it. “Yeah, yeah,” JP muttered, bobbing his head, and his fingers began to move on the guitar. Louis looked at him, mouth dropping open slightly, and missed a note. Flushing at the mistake, he turned quickly back to his own playing.

Luka let the boys have fun for a little while, and then gave them the music they would actually be using for the spring concert, explaining that he wanted the boys to learn it as written first, and then they could talk about any changes or creative flairs they wanted to try.

JP’s aunt was there on the dot to pick him up, and he said goodbye to Louis with an easy grin, swatting Louis’ offered handshake away in favor of a fist bump. Louis was still at the piano when Marinette arrived a few minutes later. He jumped up from the bench, ran two steps, then remembered himself and did sort of an awkward power-walk to the door. “Come on, Maman, I gotta go home and practice some more!” he said, the written music held tightly in his hand. He remembered Luka and paused just long enough to say goodbye before opening the door himself and speeding towards the car.

“He looks really excited,” Marinette giggled, following him out of the door a few steps.

“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting, the first time you play with somebody you really vibe with,” Luka chuckled, leaning on the door frame. “Good, that’s what we want to see. Now I just gotta find them a drummer.” His thoughts wandered for a moment as he considered the possibilities, and when he focused on Marinette again she was smiling at him with a soft look in her eyes that made him swallow. “Can I call you later?” he asked impulsively, and she blinked back to reality, cheeks tinting pink when she realized what he’d said.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she replied, and looked like she might have said more, but Louis was suddenly hanging out of the car window, yelling for her to hurry up. Marinette’s lips pursed in a frustrated (but cute) pout. “Rude,” she called back to Louis, who rolled his eyes and popped back in the window. It was more like a kid than Luka had ever seen him act and he couldn’t help laughing, which caused Marinette to turn that pout on him.

Luka entertained a brief fantasy of completely grossing Louis out by kissing her stupid right there on the step, but instead he said quickly. “You better go. I’ll call you later. Bye, Marinette.”

He stepped back inside, barely managing to wait for her soft, “Bye, Luka,” and for her to walk back to the car before he shut the door and scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. They were supposed to go out again the following week, and he really wasn’t sure he could wait that long.

***

A few nights later, he was about to go to bed when someone knocked, loudly, on his front door. Frowning, Luka went to open it, thinking perhaps a neighbor had gotten locked out or something.

He had the barest instant to take in Marinette standing on his doorstep, styled and made up and wearing a distractingly well-fitting black dress and a distressed expression, before she burst out, “I don’t want to see anybody else.” She stood there, shifting from foot to foot and breathing fast, and for a moment Luka could only stare, blinking stupidly, and Marinette opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up a hand and stopped her, stepping back and motioning her inside.

Marinette swallowed whatever she’d been about to say and stepped inside. Luka closed the door behind her and took her hands, drawing her further inside so they weren’t standing in the echoing hallway. “Okay,” he said, squeezing her hands. “What’s going on?”

“I just, um...I had a date tonight and…”

“Did he hurt you?” Luka demanded, face darkening.

Marinette’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. “No! No, no, of course that’d be the first thing you asked with me showing up like this and—No, I promise it was nothing like that, it was fine, actually, it was all fine—good, even, but...I just…” Marinette shrugged helplessly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Luka said, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing lightly.

To his surprise she took a step forward and slipped her arms around him and squeezed tight, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is now.”

Luka was still extremely confused, but he put his arms around her and held her until she squirmed to get free, pulling away from him. He let her go and she took a step back and a deep, shuddering breath, and then put her hands out to him. Luka wrapped his own around them, rubbing the backs lightly with his thumbs, and waited.

“This was maybe the...fourth guy I’ve gone out with?” Marinette frowned in thought. “Something like that. And...they’ve all been fine. It’s like you said, you know, it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I had fun, mostly, but…” She flushed suddenly and bit her lip, looking away. Luka squeezed her hands gently.

“I kept thinking how much more fun I’d be having if I was with you,” she said finally, quietly. “Even tonight, this guy, it was our third date, and he was nice enough, just...he wasn’t you, and when he tried to kiss me, I just...I didn’t want to. And then I got in the cab to go home and instead I came here.” She took a deep breath and looked up into his face. “I know you said I should date other people—”

“Only if that was what you wanted,” Luka broke in, squeezing her hands a little tighter, trying not to show how his own heart had begun racing, the fluttery feeling in his belly.

“It’s not. I don’t want to, Luka. I just...I just want to b-be with you,” she stammered a bit, turning red again. “I, um, oh, shit, ” she hissed, stamping her foot and looking away from him, and Luka had to bite his lip to contain the laughter that wanted to burst from him.

“Take your time,” he said, not entirely without chuckling.

“I don’t want to date anybody else,” Marinette said, looking up to his face and suddenly looking very calm. “I just want to see where this takes us. I don’t want to have plans when you ask me to get coffee. Well, what I mean is, I don’t want to waste time I could be spending with you with someone else.” She paused, and then added in a rush, “And I really want you to be the one kissing me.”

Luka nodded slowly, a smile growing on his face. “I’m cool with all of that,” he said, and then added, “More than cool. I’m really happy, Marinette.”

“So, we can, um, be a couple?” she dropped her gaze, but he could see her smile. “Um, exclusively?”

“We can be whatever you want,” he said, letting go of her hand to brush his thumb along her cheek. She looked up again and his thumb brushed her lower lip, sending a jolt through him. “I’m good with whatever label you want to put on us,” he continued, a little roughly, and he had to clear his throat. “I didn’t want to say it at the time because—well, I’ve been told I can get a little intense and I didn’t want to freak you out, but I was never planning on dating anybody else. I’m in this to the end, whatever that turns out to be. I want to be the one kissing you, for as long as you’ll let me.” He took a breath. “Was that too much?”

“No,” Marinette murmured, her free hand coming up to curl around his wrist. “You are intense, that’s true, but...I like it. I like it a lot, Luka. I always appreciate how patient and careful you are with me but I think there’s something you need to understand about me.” She took a step forward and leaned gently into him. “I overthink things a lot, and sometimes I get nervous and run off at the mouth, and I definitely have some issues around relationships and intimacy, but...I’m not fragile. I can handle you. If it gets too much, I’ll tell you, but...I’m not really worried. Not about that, at least.” She sighed and slid her arms around his neck, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Now I left the taxi waiting, so can you walk me to the door and then I can get my goodnight kiss from the man I really wanted it from? From...my boyfriend?” She wrinkled her nose slightly. “That sounds so...high school.”

“I like it,” Luka said roughly, pressing his forehead to hers. “I like it a lot.”

“Then it’ll do,” she whispered, and then slid her hands to his shoulders. “Now walk me to the door because if I kiss you here I’ll never make it home.”

“That’s a problem?” Luka only half joked as she took his hands again and tugged him along. “Hey, who’s walking who here?”

“You weren’t moving,” she giggled.

“Why would I want you to leave?” he teased.

“Mm, so I can go brag to everybody about my hot new boyfriend?” Marinette leaned back against the door, pulling him closer with a double handful of his t-shirt.

“Now that really does sound like high school,” Luka laughed, bracing one hand against the door as he leaned over her. Marinette tipped her head up, and he kissed those red lips, reveling in the way she sighed and pressed into him, in her lush, full lips, the smooth softness of her cheek and neck under his rough fingers as his thumb traced the elegant line of her jaw. Then her lips parted under his and she reached up and laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him down into her, and she shifted her weight off the door until she was pressed against him. Luka slipped his hand from her face to wrap around her waist and pull her even closer, his hand still on the door steadying them both and grounding him, giving him the strength to finally pull back when he really would just as soon have suffocated if it meant kissing her a little longer. It took more than a moment for them to both catch their breath, both taking in each other’s disheveled appearances. Luka in his significantly more rumpled pajamas, the faintest trace of her expensive lipstick staining his mouth, his eyes hooded and his hair a wreck, and Marinette’s gorgeous blue eyes gone glassy and dark, her delectable mouth kiss-bruised, and—okay she really, really needed to go right now. Apparently she reached the same conclusion at that moment, because she reached back and fumbled for the door handle. Luka got there first and opened it for her.

“Text me, let me know you got home safe?” he managed to get out, aware that he was grinning like a fool.

“I will,” she flashed a bright smile at him that made his racing heart skip several beats, and he watched her until she was in the taxi before closing the door with a sigh.

No way he was sleeping now. Luka went straight for his guitar.

#quickspins #beautiful dreams #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #ml fics

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