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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Riding High

Ch11: I’m Thankful for Chicken Nuggets

Chapter Summary: It’s Thanksgiving and Mary’s eating chicken nuggets.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah yeah I know it’s the wrong time of year but hell, we’re all on lock down so the days and months don’t actually exist anyway at the moment… The Boat Company used here IS an actual company in South Pas, but I got no idea who runs it so this is completely made up- roll with me here.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 10

“Good morning, Handsom.” Fliss smiled as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued to fork up the bedding in the stable.

“Morning sweetheart.” His soft voice hit her ear.

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Back at ya.” He chuckled softly “You at the yard?” “Yeah, been here a few hours now.”

“Do you need a hand with anything or…” “That’s really sweet but there’s not much left to do.” she replied, honestly “They’re all out for the day and are staying there until tomorrow morning so I’ve just a couple of stables and then some paper work to sort out before I pop back this evening to do a check.” “Ok so, once you’re done for the morning you’re free for a while?” “Yeah, why?”

“Mary had an idea.” “I did not!” Fliss heard the seven year old scoff “It was your…” “Ok, WE had an idea,” Frank conceded and there was some scuffling and Fliss could imagine he was holding Mary at arm’s length as she made a grab for the phone, “that maybe you might wanna come join us for dinner if you have time.”

“You mean your Thanksgiving dinner of chicken nuggets?” Fliss grinned “How could I turn that down?”

“Cool, just head over when you’re done.” “I might need to head home and shower.” She looked down at herself. “I’m filthy and probably don’t smell great either to be honest.” “You can change here if you want.”

Fliss paused, she had a spare change of clothes in her car. Well, a pair of sweats and a different polo shirt. She normally kept them there just in case of a downpour.

“Erm, sure, if you don’t mind…” “No of course not.”

“Alright, then, I’ll see you in about two hours or so?” Fliss smiled.

“Great.” Frank replied “See you soon.” ******

Fliss didn’t bother knocking. She opened the door to the apartment and was immediately barrelled into by a flurry of blonde hair.

“Hey!” she chuckled, dropping her bag. “Wanna let me get inside first Stack?”

Mary stepped back and Fliss straightened up and smiled as Frank walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Beautiful.” he smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips. Mary sidled off into the main room, a smirk on her face.

“I stink.” Fliss warned “I mucked out twelve stables today.”

“Yeah, you’ve smelt better!” Frank laughed as she snorted. “You know where the bathroom is. Fresh towels in there. You need anything out of this or…” He gestured to her bag, as he went to pick it up.

“It’s just my clothes so…”

“I’ll put it in my room.” He smiled, giving her another kiss. “I would offer to come scrub your back but…” he inclined his head to the main room and Fliss gave a snort.

“Calm down, Sailor” she teased “Plenty of time for that later.”

“Promises, promises.” He grinned, picking her bag up and heading through to his room. He dropped her bag onto his bed, glancing round. He’d attempted to tidy a little bit after the realisation she’d actually never been in his room before. After their night together the previous week they hadn’t managed another night alone, Fliss being a little ‘uncomfortable’ at being together like that when Mary was literally outside the door and to be honest, it wasn’t something Frank was particularly happy about either. It had never bothered him before, because Mary was never there when he brought a girl home but this was different. That said, he knew he was going to have to find somewhere bigger soon, Greg had warned him it would likely be a condition of him being awarded Guardianship. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning him a bit, living pay-check to pay-check didn’t leave him a huge housing budge but he’d work something out, he always did.

Pushing the worry from his mind, he closed the bedroom door and headed back into the room. Mary was sat on the rug looking at the instructions to the new lego kit he had bought her for Thanksgiving.

“Sussed it out yet Stack?” He asked and she gave him a withering look. He bit back the laugh that was bubbling in his throat and sat next to her, taking from her, trying to figure the instructions out to make the Storm Trooper helmet, Star Wars being her latest obsession.

“That’s upside down…” She rolled her eyes, taking it from him to turn it the right way up.

“My bad.” He shrugged, looking at it again. “Ok, so…this piece…and we need one of these…” Together they began to pull together the elements they needed for the first section and the next time Frank looked up was when Fliss walked into the living area, a little shyly, wrapped in a towel. Her long, auburn hair was piled up on top of her head and her shoulders were speckled with water. She smiled as she padded past to his bedroom, Mary not even looking up as Frank watched her with his eyes as she closed the door behind her, giving him another smile. There was something so simple, so domestic about the situation, Frank couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest.

Roberta was right, he definitely had it bad.

“When we gonna give Fliss her present?” Mary asked, looking up at Frank.

“After dinner.” He said “Which reminds me, best turn the oven on.”

“Would be a start.” Mary agreed.

Frank rolled his eyes and stood up, heading into the kitchen. Shoving the stuff in the oven, he returned and found Fliss was now sat with Mary who was showing her the instructions.

“I LOVE Star Wars.” Fliss grinned, “So does my Dad. He has a Cinema Room in the house upstairs and a poster from every single Star Wars film on the wall. I’ll show you later tonight.” “A Cinema Room?” Mary asked. “Like, with a huge screen?” “Yeah. It’s pretty cool. When I finally get round to buying a house I’m gonna build one too.” “Do you think I could watch something in there tonight?”

“Mary,” Frank started to warn her but Fliss smiled.

“Frank it’s okay.” she said. “And yeah, course you can. If you have a favourite DVD we can take that or you can pick. We have loads on the hard-drive and Sky.”

It wasn’t long before they were sat round the small kitchen table which had been pulled into the living room to allow them more room. Frank and Mary both showed Fliss their favourite thing to eat in the world- Chicken Nugget Sandwiches. After a sceptical look, Fliss leaned over to take a bite of Frank’s as he offered it and gave a small laugh announcing that it was actually pretty good. After a large slice of Chocolate cake each that had been made for them by Roberta, they collapsed onto the sofa, Mary once more on the rug, Fliss groaning about the “food baby” she was growing, rubbing her hand over her stomach.

“Hey Frank?” Mary looked at him. “Is it time now?”

It took Frank a moment and then he realised what Mary was talking about. “Oh, yeah, hang on…”

He hopped off the sofa and headed into his bedroom, pulling the small gift bag from his dresser. He walked back into the living room and sat back down, shyly handing it to her.

“You got me a gift?” Fliss’ eyes went wide.

“Yeah.” Frank shrugged.

“You really shouldn’t have…” Fliss looked at him. “I didn’t get you two anything…” “That’s not the point of giving a gift.” Mary looked at her sternly. “You don’t give to receive, right Frank?”

“Right.” Frank nodded, leaning back on the sofa, looking at Fliss “And I wanted to…” he gestured between him and Mary where she was sat, Fred crawling into her lap, “…we wanted to, say thank you for everything over the last few months.” Fliss smiled at him and then Frank saw a childish excitement cross her face “Can I open it now?” He nodded, glad she was going to as he wanted to see her face when she did.

With delicate fingers she gently undid the ribbon that the woman at the store had wrapped it with and her mouth dropped open when she saw the white box which was emblazoned with the Pandora name and logo

“Frank,” she looked at him, before she opened the box and stared at the contents. She blinked before her hand gently covered her mouth as she saw the silver charm bracelet that was inside.

“I thought it was time you started a new one, for new memories.” He said gently as she reached into the box and took out the bracelet which held a single charm in the shape of a boat.

Fliss swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I…” She took a deep breath and Frank frowned as he saw her struggling for composure.

“Hey,” he said, turning sideways on the sofa. His hand gently rubbed up her arm and she fell into him, pressing her face to his chest as he wrapped his arms round her.

“You made Fliss cry. On Thanksgiving.” Mary deadpanned, throwing a ping pong ball for Fred.

“Why don’t you go do that outside?” Frank asked. “Stay on the step.” Mary shrugged and stood up, doing as she was told.

“You ok?” He asked Fliss softly as his hands rubbed at her back. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she nodded taking a deep breath.

“Sorry, that was…” she sat back, wiping her eyes. “Absolutely fucking ridiculous…”

“You do like it right?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“Baby, I love it.” She smiled at him, and he felt his chest swell not only at the fact she liked the gift, but that was the first time she’d used that particular pet name, and he kinda liked it. “I just, well, I can’t believe you remembered about my bracelets.”

He shrugged as she reached out to gently cup his cheek.

“Thank you.” she smiled softly, leaning over to kiss him. He happily leaned into the kiss, his tongue snaking into her mouth, sliding against hers as she met him movement for movement before there was a light cough and Frank groaned, resting his forehead against Fliss’ as he turned to look at Mary.

“What?”

“Need another ping pong ball. The last one flew under Roberta’s BBQ and I aint going under there…spiders and stuff.” She headed to the box at the back of the room, dug in and retrieved a net of ping pong balls, digging one out.

“Wanna go outside?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded. He stood up and held out his hand, pulling her up with him and they headed out after Mary.

A little while later, after a game of tag on the lawn which resulted in both the girls tackling Frank to the floor in a huge tickle fight, Fliss noting that he was ridiculously ticklish and filing it for future reference, they headed back inside, grabbed their things and after an almost tantrum from Mary who wanted to bring Fred and Frank refusing, they headed off in Fliss’ jeep for the yard to do the final checks for the evening. They were just about to head up to the field to make sure all the horses were settled and the waters were topped up when Bill walked onto the yard.

“Shouldn’t you be with mum getting stuff ready for the party?” Fliss frowned at her Dad, surprised to see him.

“Are you joking!” Bill scoffed “You know what she’s like.” He coughed and then put on a light, airey voice “Bill, those champagne flutes are grouped in threes, not fours. No, those plates don’t go there, they go there. What are you doing with that cheeseboard, the grapes go in the middle…”

Frank felt his eyebrow raise slightly as Fliss laughed. Champagne, cheeseboards? This was not the type of party he was used to, at all.

“Oh don’t worry.” Fliss clocked his face. “It descends into debauchery and chaos after about an hour, mum just likes to play the part of hostess with the mostess…”

“I like cheese.” Mary piped up.

“Good, we got plenty of it.” Bill said. “But, anyway, I dropped by for a reason. I picked something up earlier this afternoon that I think you might like.”

“Me?” Fliss frowned, but before she could say anything else Frank’s attention was taken by a man who was walking down the side of the barn. He slightly taller than Frank, quite stocky and had a shock of dark brown hair and looked ridiculously like Bill. Fliss gave a little shriek and ran towards the man, throwing herself into his arms as he laughed, twirling her round slightly before he dropped her to the floor.

“That’s her brother.” Mary supplied and Frank gave her a look.

“Yeah I kinda figured that.” He rolled his eyes. “How do you know anyway?”

“Saw a photo of him.” Mary shrugged.

Frank turned his attention back to the two siblings and Fliss was now looking between her father and her brother, confusion on her face. “What, I mean, how, why are you here?”

“In New York for a stag do on Saturday.” Steve replied “Thought I’d take the chance and pop down here for a day or so.”

“Does Mum know you’re here?” she asked.

“Yeah, she does now.” he laughed “There were a few tears when I rocked up.” “Frank made Fliss cry before.” Mary said, and all attention turned to Frank who hung his head and let out an audible groan.

“Seriously?” He looked at her as Fliss burst out laughing.

“Because I was happy.” She said, shaking her head “He bought me a new Pandora.” Frank didn’t miss the exchange of looks between father and son, both wearing identical expressions of surprise which morphed into soft smiles as Fliss moved and slid under Frank’s arm.

“Frankie, this is my brother Steve.” she smiled, as Steve stepped forward, holding his hand out. “Or Steeb, Steeby…whatever you want to call him.” “Nice to meet you.” Frank smiled as Steve shook his hand, his grip firm.

“Likewise.” Steve smiled “Heard a lot about you.” He then turned to his left and looked down “And you must be Mary.” “Yup,” She smiled, looking at him “Did you bring your kids?”

“Mary.” Frank warned gently as he looked at her, shaking his head.

“What?” She asked, “I was just asking a question. I wanted to meet them.” “No, not this time.” Steve smiled “Just a flying visit. But they’re coming over for Christmas so I’ve no doubt you’ll get to see them then.” He straightened up and smiled at Fliss. “Where’s that grumpy ginger Nag?” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Don’t you talk about Heidi like that. She’s in the top field.”

“I thought he was talking about V.” Bill mumbled to Frank who gave a snort, and then looked at the man, the pair of them bursting into laughter. By the time they had composed themselves, Steve and Fliss were stood, watching the pair of them, hands on their hips in almost identical poses.

“They do this all the time.” Fliss shook her head. “Come on, I’ll take you to see H. I was on my way up to check them all anyway. You coming Stack?” she looked at Mary. Mary grinned and ran forward, linking her hand into Fliss’.

Frank miss the eyebrow raised on Steve’s face, before the man smiled softly, dropping an arm round Fliss’ shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

*****

Fliss changed quickly when they were home into a pair of jeans, a strappy top and a pair of sandals before the three of them walked over to the house after another near argument about getting Mary to leave the bucket of lego she had brought with her in the annex, which Fliss cleverly managed to avoid with the mention of the Cinema Room.

The house was busy, not packed but busy, and there was no way Frank was going to remember everyone’s names. But he smiled and shook hands as Bill introduced him to people, and he was surprised to find he felt at ease. Most of the people were older than him and Fliss, bar her brother of course, and it was a different circle and class of people he would normally mix with but he certainly didn’t feel like any of them were looking down at him, a stark contrast to how he used to feel at his Mother’s parties.

Well, they weren’t really parties, more like a gathering which rich snobs used to brag to other rich snobs about how much money they had.

“And this is Mike, Martin and Keith.” Bill said, nodding to the final three men, one of whom was giving Fliss a hug.

“You look great!” She beamed at him “How much weight have you lost now?” “40lb.” the man called Keith nodded and Fliss grinned.

“That’s awesome.”

“All down to the golf.” He smiled, gesturing to Mike, Martin and Bill “These guys drag me up there regularly enough.” “Frank hates golf.” Mary said. “Says it ruins a good walk.”

There was a pause as Frank groaned, wanting the ground to open and swallow him. He glared at Mary who looked at him, frowning.

“What?” She asked as Bill suddenly began to roar with laughter, the other men joining in.

Frank shook his head and looked round. “It’s just not my thing…”he said, by means of an explanation. “I prefer playing basket ball or baseball.”

“Each to their own.” The man called Martin beamed. “To be honest when I was your age I hated it too. Was far more into drinking and women.” “Frank likes that too.” Mary said, and Frank then really did give her a look.

“Shut up.” He said, but of course she didn’t as the men continued to laugh.

“Although I’m glad he finally got together with Fliss, because she’s my favourite. Miss Stevenson would not have been a good choice.” Frank groaned again and he felt Fliss beginning to chuckle besides him.

“Miss Stevenson?” Bill asked.

“We don’t need to hear about that…” Frank said, his neck growing hot.

“She’s my teacher.” Mary nodded “She stayed at our house one night. I wasn’t supposed to be there but I saw her coming out of the bathroom wearing Frank’s sheets and…” “Ok, Mary, why don’t we go and see the Cinema Room.” Fliss hastily cut her off as the three men were now all howling with laughter.

“Oh, okay.” she shrugged, before she pondered something “Why was she in your sheets Frank, and not in a towel like Lissy was before?”

At that Bill arched an eyebrow and Fliss felt her cheeks grow warm “I had a shower, I’d mucked twelve stabled out.” There was a pause before she recovered and steered Mary out of the room.

Frank grimaced and looked back round as Bill patted him on the shoulder, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes. “I bloody love that kid.”

“She’s yours if you want her.” Frank said. “I could gift-wrap her for you. Just say goodbye to your private life being private.”

Thankfully the Cinema Room kept Mary out of the way, especially when she had a stash of popcorn, sweets and soda to keep her occupied. For the next few hours Frank stuck mostly by Fliss’ side, talking to people, chatting to her brother a bit about his job and the business he had taken over from Bill, his kids, but Frank got the impression the man was being a little guarded with him. He was polite enough, and wasn’t being rude but he wasn’t overly warm either. But he supposed that was understandable. She was Fliss’ big brother after all.

Mary came down a few hours later and tugged on Fliss’ hand. Fliss went with her and Frank headed into the kitchen to grab himself another beer after being told by Verity to “stop asking and just go get”. He turned round, flipping the lid off, almost bumping into Bill.

“Sorry.” He apologised to the man who smiled at him as he held the fridge door open.

“There’s someone who just arrived that I want you to meet.” Bill said, gesturing for Frank to follow him. With a slight puzzled frown, he did as he was told and wandered through to the large lounge where a number of people were congregated.

“Frank, this is Alan Maxwell.” Bill introduced a short, stocky white haired man who was wearing a pair of modern thin-rimmed glasses and a cream blazer over a dark polo necked shirt and dark jeans. Frank took him in, noting his outfit probably cost more than Frank’s entire wardrobe.

“Hi.” Frank smiled, shaking his hand “Frank Adler”

“The boat mechanic?” Alan asked.

“Yeah.” Frank looked at him then to Bill, frowning a little.

“Alan’s in the Repair and Retail business.” Bill offered and Frank gave a nod of understanding.

“I own MarineMax in St Pete’s” Alan smiled.

“Oh on Gulfport?” Frank looked at him and Alan nodded.

“You know it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Frank scratch at the back of his neck “I errr, I applied for a job once but I didn’t have the relevant experience so…” Alan looked at Frank for a moment, “How long you been a mechanic now?”

“Over six and a half years.”

“And you’re freelancing?” Frank nodded.

“Good success rate?”

“Over ninety-eight percent.” Frank said. “I mean, I only do one boat at a time because I’ve been juggling my hours around Mary for the last 7 years but…” he shrugged “I have regulars who come back so I must be doing something right.” “Could you get references?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “Pretty sure I could.”

“Hmmmm.” Alan looked at Bill who inclined his head towards Frank with a smile.

“I told you, I’ll vouch for him.” he shrugged “He’s sleeping with my daughter after all.”

“Jesus Bill.” Frank groaned as the two men laughed.

“It’s a compliment” Bill smiled “If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t let you within three foot of her”

“Thanks, I think.” Frank looked at him taking a drink of his beer.

“Come see me next week.” Alan looked at Frank, pulling a card from his wallet and handing it over “I may have a position you’d be interested in.”

“I errr…” Frank was temporarily sideswiped by the suggestion “I…that would be…”

“I know it will be different to freelance but it’s a full time job, full package of benefits and a negotiable wage plus bonus scheme.” Alan said, “I’m not a huge outfit, but I pay my guys well.” Frank nodded, placing the card in his pocket “I’ll stop by.” “Just give me a call the day before and I’ll make sure I’m around.”

“I will.” Frank nodded. “Thank you.”

Frank made his excuses, realising he hadn’t seen Fliss for a while and headed off looking for her. He moved from room to room, realising there was no sign of her or Mary. He headed into the kitchen and then poked his head out of the large bi-folding doors which led onto the large raised decking area which spanned the length of the house.

“Hey.” Frank spotted Fliss’ brother leaning on the railing, lit cigarette in one hand, beer in the other. “You seen Lissy?”

“She was in the living room last time I saw her.” Steve said chuckling slightly, shaking his head.

Frank frowned at the man’s demeanour and Steve noticed, and smiled. “Sorry, just seems strange. Hearing someone else call her Liss or Lissy other than the family.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda picked it up from Bill and it stuck.” Frank smiled.

“Yeah she doesn’t suit Felicity.” Steve shook his head “Although that’s all he ever fucking called her. Apparently nicknames were deemed too common.” “Yeah well, he’s a dick.” Frank shrugged

“No arguments here.” Steve looked at Frank. Frank watched as the man studied him for a second, clearly thinking about something before he returned to leaning on the rail of the decking, looking down over the huge garden area as he took a final drag from the cigarette, before stubbing it out in the fire bucket to his right.

“Okay,” Frank stepped outside, “let’s have it.” “Have what?” Steve asked, looking at him.

“The big brother lecture. The one where you threaten to rip my head off if I hurt your sister.” Frank said as Steve gave a huff of a laugh.

“Well, rest assured I will.” Steve looked at Frank as he too leaned on the railings. “But Dad says you’re a good bloke so, that’ll do for me.” Frank nodded and took a pull of his beer. “I have no intention of hurting her, in anyway.” he said, his voice loaded with meaning and Steve sighed.

“I know.” he said gently “I just, well, I worry.” “Understandable.” Frank nodded, and it was. He got it, he really did.

“I hated that fucker.” Steve shook his head, “right from the start. Smarmy assed, stuck up Yank. Sorry, no offence.” Frank laughed “Non-taken.” he waved Steve’s apology away.

“I know she’s only actually my step-sister but well she was only two when I met her and…”

“Blood doesn’t make you family.” Frank nodded. “If you ever meet my mother you’ll realise that.” “Yeah, Fliss wasn’t very complementary of her.” Steve snorted.

“She called her a cold hearted bitch to her face.” Frank raised an eyebrow as Steve laughed.

“I shouldn’t be pleased at that.” Steve smiled. “But not long ago she wouldn’t have been brave enough to be that outgoing.” “Oh she certainly isn’t backwards in coming forwards.” Frank shook his head

“Something he managed to suck out of her.” Steve sighed.

“You know, I’d love to get that fucker alone in a room” Frank glowered. “Five minutes, that’s all I’d need.” “Get in line.” Steve shrugged, “Behind me and dad.” “Yeah, Fliss said something about there being a queue.”

“The day she said she was moving to Boston to be with him full time, it was the worst day of my life. And Mum and Dad’s” Steve took another drink. “But we knew if we tried to stop her it would give him the perfect excuse to turn her against us. So what could we do but support it?” He hung his head slightly and Frank’s brow furrowed at the man’s open display of vulnerability

“I wish we’d done more, you know, anything, but we didn’t know how bad things had got. Not that he was hurting her, not like that.” “None of it was your fault.” Frank looked at him. “Or your parent’s. Or Fliss’”

“No, I know that but it doesn’t stop any of us feeling guilty.” Steve sighed. “But, anyway, it’s in the past now. That is until he goes for parole, which he will.” Frank shrugged “We’ll greet that when it happens.”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at him. “You ready for all that? Because I guarantee what she’s told you, well it won’t even scratch the surface, Frank.”

“Are you asking me if I’m gonna bail when the going gets tough?”

“Suppose I am, yeah.” Steve looked at him.

Frank took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, quelling the frustration that was brewing at the man’s questioning, reminding himself that he had a right to worry, a right to be concerned. He’d feel the same if it was Diane in this position.

“Look, Steve, I know she hasn’t told me everything. And I’m not gonna push her to either. It isn’t important to me to know every sordid little detail of what that cunt did to her. What is important is that she’s happy with me, and that she feels safe and knows that I’d never hurt her like that and I sure as hell won’t abandon her when the road gets a little bumpy. She was there for me through a very bad time recently and, well…” Frank shrugged, “even if we decide that what we have isn’t working I’d still be by her side.”

Steve’s face remained passive for a second before it split into a grin “I don’t think there’s any worry about that, Frank. From what I’ve seen this afternoon and this evening, Lissy’s besotted. In fact, I’ve never seen her like this before.” Frank felt his cheeks flush a little and he looked down “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something else but they were interrupted.

“My ears burning?” Fliss asked, eyeing the two men up.

“I was just making sure his intentions are honourable.” Fliss rolled her eyes with a snort “his intentions are honourable? What are you, like ninety?”

Steve shrugged “No, but I’m three years older than you and still your big brother Titch.” “Whatever, Steeby.” She moved over to where Frank was stood and slid under his arm. “Quit with the 3rd degree or I’ll tell Mum you’ve been smoking.”

“You wouldn’t!” he said in mock horror as she raised an eyebrow. Steve turned to Frank and raised his eyebrow, jerking his head towards his sister “Sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for?”

Frank laughed “her bark is worse than her bite…owww!” he said, as she nipped his arm.

“Sure it is.” Steve winked as h pushed himself off the railing and headed inside.

“Was he being an ass hole?” Fliss watched him go before she turned to Frank and he chuckled, pulling her closer.

“No,not at all.” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips “Where’s Mary?”

“With Dad in the living room with the guys from the golf club.” she said, shrugging.

“No doubt revealing more of my dark secrets.” Frank groaned.

Fliss laughed “Nah, she’s got her lego. Bill and her will have some kind of building contest going on no doubt.”

“I told her to leave those in the annex.” Frank shook his head. “She did. I took her to get them.” Fliss shrugged

“Seriously?” Frank looked at her, rolling his eyes.

“What? She was bored and wanted something to do.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” he said, his arms circling her and she grinned as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“Hush, Sailor, you love it.” she smirked against his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” he muttered, pulling her closer for a deeper kiss.

******

It was about midnight when the party started filtering out. Mary was crashed out on one of the sofas so Frank suggested they call it a night and Fliss, feeling the effects of a fair amount of alcohol, agreed. They made their goodbyes and Frank easily scooped Mary up and the three of them made their way, a little slower than usual, to the annex.

Once they’d roused Mary and she’d changed for bed Frank tucked her in, in the bed in the spare room and she was flat out before he even closed the door. He headed into Fliss’ room and laughed as she was led on the bed with her legs over the edge, feet flat on the floor. She was wearing just her bra and jeans, and her arm was bent over her eyes.

“My jeans are too tight.” she said.

“What?” Frank laughed.

“I can’t be bothered to take them off.” She leant up on her elbows and ginned at him “Wanna help me out Sailor?”

“Happily.” he grinned, and moved towards her but she stopped him.

“Ah ah.” she pointed to his polo-shirt. “Off.” With an arch of his eyebrow he reached back and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling it over his head. “Better?”

“Yup.” she nodded as he moved towards her, gently dropping down and undoing her jeans. With a tug he pulled them down over her thighs, his hands softly tracing up her skin as she sighed, before his lips met hers.

“You were a hit in there.” she smiled gently, her fingers tracing the muscles on his arms as he propped himself up over her.

“Yeah?” he asked, gently shifting so that she moved with him, laying further up the bed.

She nodded. “Charmed the pants off all the posh bastards you did, Adler.” “There’s only one person I’m interested in charming the pants off.” He quipped and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Smooth.” “Is it working?”

She glanced down. “Nope, they’re still on.”

“Guess I’ll have to use my hands then.” He said, and with a quick move down he slid them over her ankles and gently pressed his lips to her knee, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her leg, nipping at the inside of her thigh. Fliss gave a soft sigh as he moved, his short beard scratching at her skin as he moved, her hands fisting in the sheets. When he reached his target he gently placed a long lick up her entrance. Instinctively, one of her hands fisted in his hair before she hastily moved it and Frank paused, reaching up, and placing it back where it had been.

“I like it.” He peeked up at her, a cheeky look on his face before he dropped his head back down and Fliss’s head fell back against her pillow as she gave a shaky moan.

She couldn’t remember the last time a man had gone down on her. John had certainly never done it, making it clear from the start he found it disgusting, but still happy to shove his dick in her mouth when he wanted a blow. But Frank ate her out like a man starved, moving his mouth as he paid attention to how her body reacted and when he found her spot, she gave a cry, her back arching off the bed, and she felt him double his efforts, his lips and tongue teasing her, in a delectable way. Pleasure lanced through her entire body, the heat rising from her very toes and as she felt her orgasm rising her fingers tightened on his hair and he gave a low moan at her touch, which vibrated through his mouth right against her clit and that was it. Her hips bucked upwards as she came, hard, her knees tightened slightly around his head, her arm flying to her mouth to stifle her loud moan.

Working her through her release, Frank moved back, stripping off the remainder of his clothes before he crawled up her body again, kissing his way up from her naval to her chest. She arched her back and he reached around to unhook her bra before he set his attention to her breasts. Fuck, he could listen to the noises and whimpers she was making all day but after a week he was aching for her.

“You got any…” he started to ask softly and she nodded, her hand gesturing to her bedside table. He paused and pulled open the drawer, and had to smirk as he saw the new, full packet of condoms in there. Pulling one out he opened it, whilst Fliss gently gave his dick a stroke causing him to hiss slightly, his fingers fumbling on the foil and she grinned.

“Something distracting you, Sailor?” “You know damned well what’s distracting me.” His voice was almost a growl as her hand moved over his whilst he rolled the latex down.

Her giggle turned to a moan as he buried himself inside her, his entire body feeling coiled like a spring, and his thrusts began slow, and deep before soon she was begging for more and he picked up the pace, each movement rolling against her spot, causing her to breathlessly whisper his name as he buried his face into her neck, nipping and biting at that spot that drove her wild. At some point she moved, gently pushing on his shoulders, and he understood, rolling onto his back. She straddled him, pulling her long hair over one shoulder as she leaned down to draw him into a deep, sultry kiss before she sank down onto him, taking him in.

“Fuck, Lissy,” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips as she began to move, rolling her pelvis, “God you feel so good.” She preened at his praise, yup, she definitely had a praise kink, and her pace quickened as she leaned forward again to kiss him, a moan falling from her mouth as he raised his hips to meet hers, his fingers tightening on her hips. Frank looked up at her, her mouth slack, lips plump, freckles still visible in the soft light from the outside lights, breasts bouncing softly as she moved.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, sitting up and she cried out at the change of depth as he pulled her close, thrusting up into her.

“Frankie, I’m…” and with a low whine her head tipped back as her release washed over her for the second time that night, a slow, deep burn which left her slack in his arms, as she collapsed forward. After a few more desperate thrusts he was right behind her, clinging to her, his face buried into her shoulder, his own groans stifled in her skin.

They stayed like that for a little while, both recovering, hands softly dancing over skin before he leaned up to give her a soft kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered and he pulled back, frowning a little.

“What for?”

“For making me feel good. For making me feel wanted.” She swallowed, tears filling her eyes and Frank let out a sigh, his arms curling round her, pulling her close, his own chest tightening at her words as he understood instantly that it was clearly something she wasn’t used to.

“You deserve it.” He spoke softly, , “Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She moved back, her hands cupping his cheeks as she gave him another deep kiss, her lips curling into a smile and Frank smiled back, before he kissed her again.

***** Frank woke the next morning and, as he blinked, he realised he was alone. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes, and could hear soft voices from elsewhere in the annex. Grabbing his phone he looked down and with a start realised it was past ten. Running a hand over his face, he climbed out of bed, grabbed his bag and retrieved a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt before retrieving his jeans which were now folded and placed over the back of the chair by Fliss’ vanity unit. After sorting himself in the bathroom he made his way downstairs and found Fliss and Mary sat outside in the small yard, an array of breakfast items on the table. Fliss long hair was pulled into a messy pony tail and she was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Even like that she looked effortlessly gorgeous.

“Morning.” He greeted, stepping out onto the decking and Fliss smiled at him.

“Hey.” She smiled, accepting the kiss he dropped onto her cheek before he sat down next to her. “Sleep well.”

“Hmmm I was tired for some reason.” He quipped, causing her to grin.

“Fliss says I can go ride Monty today.” Mary looked at Frank. “Is that ok?”

“It’s not your week for a lesson.” Frank spoke.“And it’s Friday.”

“It’s ok.” Fliss smiled. “The riding school is shut. Joanne’s done the morning shift so we can just go up this afternoon. I need to work Cap and Bronson but she can ride if she wants.” “Please.” Mary looked at Frank who sighed.

“I’ve gotta nip to the boat yard.” he looked at her. “Got some guy who needs a motor looking at and I said I’d meet him today.” “I don’t wanna go to the boat yard.” Mary pouted.

“It’s okay, she can come with me.” Fliss offered “I don’t mind, honestly.”

Frank hesitated, he didn’t want Fliss to think she was obliged to take Mary. He knew that the pair of them came as a package but still.

“You sure?” Frank asked. “Roberta would normally take her but she’s not back until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, its fine.” Fliss nodded “She can help me and Joanne.”

“Okay then, yeah, you can go.”

Mary grinned and turned her attention back to her book.

“You want breakfast?” Fliss asked, moving to stand.

“I’ll get it. You stay there.” Frank offered, but Mary suddenly jumped up.

“No it’s okay, we made you something special…” With that she shot into the kitchen.

“Special?” Frank looked at Fliss, and she grinned as his lips met hers.

“Yeah.” she nodded to Mary who emerged from the kitchen, giggling. Frank gave a snort of a laugh and shook his head as she thrust the box of Special K into his hands.

“Thanks…” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

**** Chapter 12

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic

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warmau · 4 years

Text

★ donation request: suburbia summer nights house party!au jaehyun

the summer night air is too sticky and too sweet for your liking

you had opened your window hoping to chill down your room, but it was even hotter outside than it was inside

even still, you keep the window open and the curtains pushed back, leaning the upper half of your body out to the empty streets of the neighborhood you’ve lived in since you were born

it is quiet - like always

until you hear something rustle below

you look down and your eyes widen, standing in your mothers beloved rose bushes is the familiar face of something - well someone - you’ve also known since you were born

johnny waves at you and from behind his broad shoulders peeks mark lee

“bro, we shouldn’t be here - what if their parents-”

marks paranoid whispering is loud enough that even you hear it, so you bring your finger up to your lips

johnny ignores the younger boys trifling and motions for you to come out

you know your parents are probably either working in the kitchen or watching tv in the living room

there’s no way in hell you’re going to be able to walk out the front door, so your only means of escape are making it down the rickety old water pipe on the side of the house closest to your room

you’ve done it before so you’re not scared or anything - but still, you aren’t exactly sure what those two are up to

you grab your phone and text johnny:

why are you trespassing in my backyard :P

house party @ jaehyuns

you swallow - jung jaehyun - another familiar name

not interested, now go before you get caught and my dad flings a shovel at you or something

mark starts tugging on johnny’s shirt as soon as they both read the message

but johnny stays put

c’mon, don’t you like jaehyun?

you furrow your eyebrows and glare down at johnny, who just grins up at you with the kind of smile you know means trouble

dude i don’t like jaehyun, im just not in a party mood

fine - can you come for like an hour then? don’t leave me alone with mark you know he doesn’t know how to party

“hey!”

mark jumps back in offense and you shush him from your window as johnny playfully pulls him into a headlock at his side and ruffles his hair

you don’t text back, just slip your phone in your back pocket and look at yourself one last time in your mirror

you’re wearing a t-shirt thats too big with the local fishing shops logo on it and beat up old chucks with doodles on it from two years ago

really, not a party outfit, but you’re going for an hour so you don’t care

you quickly lock your door and slip through the window

johnny gives a little dance of victory as you make your way down that old pipe and lets go of mark to sling his hand over your shoulder

“are we walking to jaehyuns?”

you ask when you’re safely out of earshot of your house but johnny just shakes his head

“nah, he’s driving us there.”

“he’s w-”

as you turn the corner of the street you see jaehyun’s car

its nothing flashy, but you know its his because its got that dumb handmade sticker of johnny’s garage band name on the bumper and plus he’s got the driver car door open, leaning against it looking-

damnit why does he look good without even trying

you push back the thought and want to throw another glare johnny’s way - but he misses it as he reaches out to take jaehyun’s hand

the two of them bump shoulders and johnny makes a joke about how hard he had to try to convince you to come out

you keep back a little and jump a bit when mark asks

“is everything ok?”

“yeah, just worried my parents might have heard us.”

marks face pales and he climbs into the backseat of the car - you follow him and try not to look at jaehyun

although you feel his eyes move to you past johnny’s shoulder

once you’re all piled in, jaehyun says his house is already half trashed. he left doyoung in charge back there but he knows no one ever listens to him so he expects you’ll all be arriving to a shitshow

you half listen, looking out the window and at the houses of families you know

at least the window of a moving car is much cooler than the cemented window of your bedroom

but the real reason behind your distance is because right now ,,,,, jaehyun is the last person you want to see

it had all started last summer, jaehyun had moved to your town and had befriended johnny instantly

and with johnny’s friendship came your friendship (and mark’s, and practically the whole schools but - you and johnny were joined at the hip so it was different)

but it became quickly and almost embarrassingly obvious that what you and jaehyun felt toward each other was not

what you and johnny felt toward each other

you could easily jump on johnny’s back, have him piggyback you through the huge aisles of the local walmart, you could easily share food with johnny from the same plate, you could easily fall asleep on johnny’s bed as he and mark played video games on the floor

but with jaehyun - there was a sheepishness

not because you weren’t best friends but because you saw him and felt nervous

you saw johnny and felt delight, thats someone you’d be friends with forever

you saw jaehyun and felt a flurry of butterflies swarm around your stomach, thats someone you wanted to kiss

and it was like everyone was waiting for it to happen. everyone was just holding their breath.

some people had even tried to ask jaehyun out, but he had declined and it just solidified the entire towns prediction that you and him would end up being a thing

but

when he had a chance, he blew it

it had been a house party just like the one you were going to now and you and jaehyun had walked off a little away from all the music and noise

you were wearing those bracelets he’d gifted you and he was toying with one on your hand

you could have sworn that in that moment you were going to hear the words

“do you want to go out with me?” leave his lips, no matter how coy he was being and how playful this push and pull had been

the flirtatious glances, the midnight texts, the tension of it all had come to this and now

all you were bracing yourself to just say was yes

when instead he had chuckled and asked,

“can you believe everyone wants us to date?”

you couldn’t read his tone - you’d just blinked at him, was he being for real?

instead of answering him or even acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation

you’d walked away

you’d pulled the bracelets off your wrist and let them drop to the grass. jaehyun had been confused, grabbing your wrist and asking what was wrong all of a sudden

the last thing you had said to him was

“everything's just a game to you isn’t it?”

there were no words and no more messages after that. you had avoided him like hot fire and had succeeded in dodging all of johnny or marks attempts to make you all hangout together again

you’d agreed to go to this party for an hour because you had planned to just get lost in the crowd before he could spot you and then leave

you didn’t know you’d be stuck in his car, personal damn chauffeur service to his house

you hear the party before you even see it - music blaring from inside and peoples voices like an annoying symphony of shouts and chants

mark gets out first and you try to scramble so you won’t end up somehow alone with jaehyun

nearly pushing poor mark onto the curb

“hey!”

“im going to go see if uh - whats his name - uh jungwoo is here.”

you make up an excuse before either of the three boys can say a word

you turn the corner, around the pool that you’ve hung out with jaehyun and everyone else at a hundred times and the weird circle of garden gnomes he’s moms put out

you know the layout like its your own house and are happy to see that the wooded part toward the end of his yard is pretty empty - the hammock that you and johnny had helped him tie up a while ago is unoccupied

“thank god”

you plop yourself in it and close your eyes, the sounds are duller out here and you dont have the chance of rubbing shoulders with other drunk teenagers or you know who

your phone buzzes in your back pocket but you dont bother to check it

instead you stare up through the leaves at the bright slice of moon

how’d i get in this situation?

you lay a hand on your stomach and tap your fingers as you think about how you’re going to kill time

the noise of giggling passes by you and you assume a couple is going to pass by to fool around in the woods

could have been me and jaehyun if he hadn’t been such a dumba-

you sit up a little and shake your head

you had done such a good job so far. you really hadn’t thought about him at all.

well, well you had thought about him but you just - you weren’t going to coddle yourself into expecting anything ever again

it would just hurt when the day came around and he flat out rejected you

you sink back down and close your eyes - maybe just napping through this dumb party will

“dude they’re so fucking mad at me.”

“nah bro, i bet they’re just tired or something-”

“no johnny, i fucked up.”

you open your eyes and strain a bit at the sound of the voices that are coming closer and closer to your spot

they sound just like-

“what exactly did you do then jaehyun?”

“i said the wrong thing-”

“just said?”

there’s a pause and now you’re sure this is who you think it is

“just said or did you hurt them. jaehyun you’re a cool dude or whatever but if you laid a hand on them-”

the drop of the voice only comes for one person when they’re rallying to get angry

“no johnny, i would never. i just - remember that party a couple months ago. the one at taeyongs.”

“yeah?”

“i was going to ask them out, and then i just blanked like they were looking at me and instead of just kissing them i said ‘haha isn’t it funny everyone wants us to date?’ because like im dumb - i dont know i couldnt think!”

a second of silence passes by and then is followed by johnny’s long and relaxed laugh

“you totally did fuck up!”

“i know, and now i dont know how to make it bet-”

johnny and jaehyun’s footsteps are now only a few feet away - in the darkness of the night you’re sure they haven’t noticed the lump of you in the hammock

not until you suddenly feel it tip over as someones shadow looms over

“DONT YOU DARE SIT ON ME JOHNNY SUH!”

you shout and johnny screams - before stuttering back and bursting into another loud laugh

“oh my god THEY WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME?”

jaehyun, even though its dark, goes red at the realization

“d-did you hear us?”

you swing your legs out and jump out of the hammock - johnny, who is still laughing at the circumstance, can’t help but back away a little holding himself in a fit

you nod

“yeah i heard and for the record - you were being dumb when you said that to me.”

jaehyun opens his mouth but shuts it because he has no way of protesting it

“but i guess being dumb is kind of part of your charm”

you cross your arms and jaehyun’ shoulders perk up a little

“so you’re not mad at me?”

“i was but, i mean, im a very forgiving person and you can have this second chance to ask me out-”

“yeah just don’t fuck it up jaehyun”

johnny’s voice comes between chuckles before you motion for him to go

he gives you two a thumbs up and leaves, mumbling that he has to tell mark about all this

and as you and jaehyun are alone with the back drop of his house party

you put your hand out and jaehyun takes it in his

“so, let me try again - instead of everyone saying we should date i want you to know that i want to-”

“yes”

you lean up and take his face with both hands, pressing your lips to his and finally

freaking finally

kissing jaehyun

the summer night air is still sticky and sweet and you aren’t a big fan, but the way jaehyun’s lips are a perfect taste makes all of that wash away

his hands circle your own and he picks you up swiftly as your legs wrap around his waist

now this - this is what you had expected months ago, but you don’t mind because its finally happening now

when you and jaehyun return to the packed house

the whole party stops when johnny screams

“EVERYONE CHEER FOR THE TOWNS LOVEBIRDS!”

and both you and jaehyun go wide eyed

not before you take chase after your best friend - threatening to get him and mark just pats jaehyun’s back like

“looks like you didn’t mess up this time!”

jaehyun grins and scratches his neck, yeah - looks like he didn’t.

#jaehyun au #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #member: jaehyun #sfw #donation commissions

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emy-loves-you · 4 years

Text

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 12

Starlight, Star Bright

Virgil’s list of crushed is growing, but why do they seem so familiar?

Chapter 11 | Masterlist | Chapter 13

The next day, Virgil found himself walking up to Puppy Pastries. He had texted a standard “Good morning” to his crushes before leaving to go flirt with Angel. He decided not to tell his crushes about Angel. If he had any chance with the three of them, it would be immediately lost the moment he told them about his new crush. Part of him was worried that Angel would recognize him as Anxiety, but so far there was nothing on social media that hinted at Anxiety even living in Florida. So either Angel didn’t recognize him, or he knew and decided to respect Anxiety’s privacy. Even though it was probably the first option, Virgil felt his blush grow at the thought of Angel caring that much.

Virgil entered the cafe at 11 AM, scanning the people there. Today was obviously a slow day, with only 3 customers throughout the building. As Virgil made his way to the counter, he saw the same worker from yesterday- Katherine, if he remembered correctly. Katherine’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and she quickly turned to face the kitchens. “Boss!”

“Yes, Kyle?” Angel’s asked, still obviously caught up in whatever he was doing. Kyle? Virgil glanced around until he saw a blue pronoun bracelet on Kat- Kyle’s wrist.

“That one guy from yesterday? He’s back.” Virgil heard the clunking of pots and pans before Angel came out covered in flour, wiping his hands off with a blue dishtowel. He wore a light blue apron with the Puppy Pastries logo written in cartoonish white letters.

Flirt Mode: Activated.

“Hey there, Angel.” Anxiety purred, leaning up against the counter. “Did you just lose a flour-fight or something?”

Angel blushed, looking down at his apron. “Nah, I just spilled a little, that’s all.” He looked back up, a slight scowl on his face. “Now, why did you tip $100 on a free meal, Kiddo?”

Anxiety smirked. “Why did you give me an extra muffin, Beautiful?”

“Because I almost broke your nose with a door!” He near-yelled, clenching the towel in his hands. He must really be beating himself up about this.

“And you cleaned me up and gave me an ice pack.” He glanced at the cup of lollipops on the counter, priced at $1 apiece. He took a dollar out of his pocket before grabbing the lollipop, quickly unwrapping it to stick in his mouth.

“It was the right thing to do! You still didn’t have to tip!” The guy looked close to hyperventilating. Anxiety sighed, pulling the lollipop out with a quiet pop.

“Listen,” he said, lazily gesturing with his lollipop. “Tipping you was my decision, got it? I was gonna tip anyways, if only because Kyle made my friend’s monster drink without complaint. And I shouldn’t have been standing in the doorway, either. So don’t blame yourself, cutey.” He turned to Kyle, who seemed to be watching them talk like it was a tennis match. “One medium chai tea and a… blackberry muffin, please.”

“On the house!” Angel yelled before Kyle could list off the price. “You’ve already paid enough to have breakfast here for at least the whole week. Let me make it up to you, please.”

Anxiety sighed, pulling out his wallet. “Angel, if you don’t let me pay for this, I’m just gonna tip again. You’ve already made it up. Stop it with this guilty shit or I’m gonna have to do something drastically expensive.” He and Angel had an intense staring contest before Angel huffed, going back to the kitchen. Anxiety paid for his breakfast before walking out the door. “Nice talking to you Angel, Kyle!”

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Virgil sighed as he finished his muffin. It wasn’t quite noon yet, and the streets started getting a little more hectic with people on lunch break. Virgil walked aimlessly down the street, having planned nothing beyond visiting Puppy Pastries. He stopped at a random library, deciding to take a look inside. Lo’s Birthday is in a few weeks. I’m already getting him chocolate, but maybe something in here can give me ideas?

Virgil strolled through the library, trying to find anything on space. He eventually found a section tucked away in the corner. Even though the section was near impossible to find, it was definitely popular, judging by the massive array of books on the shelves. He quickly grabbed the first book he saw and opened it up, skimming it to see if it might interest Lo. His heart sunk as he realized something.

“May I be of assistance?” Virgil’s eyes shot up, staring at the man in front of him. He had dark brown hair, brushed neatly out of his face. He wore a pair of square glasses, which perfectly framed his dark blue eyes. He wore a black button-up shirt with a perfectly straightened navy blue tie. He also wore a pair of dark wash jeans that perfectly hugged his-

Flirt Mode: Activated

“There are many ways you could help me, Beautiful.” Anxiety purred out, closing the book and putting it on the shelf. “But unless you know anything about space, you can’t really help me with this problem.”

If the man realized that Anxiety was flirting, he didn’t acknowledge it. “I happen to know a great deal about space. I have read the majority of the books in this section. Now, what is this problem of yours?”

Anxiety sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “My friend’s birthday is in a few days, and I need a present for him. I know he really likes space, so I was hoping I could find information in one of these books. But then realized that I don’t know anything about space beyond the names of the planets.”

The man sighed. “That is a problem.” He turned to the shelf next to Anxiety, pulling out a giant paperback book. He then handed it to Anxiety. “This book gives simplistic descriptions of most of our universe’s known types of celestial bodies. If you are only learning this to find a proper gift, this will be your best choice. If you need any further assistance, I will be here until 2 PM.”

Anxiety smiled, giving the man a casual two-finger salute. “Thanks, Starlight. I’ll let you know if I have any questions.” Starlight blushed at the nickname before walking away.

He stayed at the library for around 2 hours, taking pictures of what he found interesting and finding Starlight when there was something he didn’t understand. Every time he asked a question, Starlight would get a certain shine in his eyes as he spoke passionately about the topic at hand. Starlight would stop every few sentences to make sure that he understood, and every time Anxiety would give his own recap while flirting. By the time they were finished, Anxiety felt confident enough to hold a decent conversation about space, and Starlight’s cheeks were bright red.

It was now 1:45 PM, and Virgil was ready to head home. He put the book back on the shelf and went to the front desk, where Starlight stood helping an older woman. He waited until the woman left before approaching. “Oh, did you have another question?”

“Nah, just wanted to say goodbye before I head out. Thanks again for the help. Will you be here on Monday? You know, in case I have another question?”

Starlight smiled, typing something into the computer. “Yes. I am here from 10 AM to 2 PM every weekday.” He paused, looking up at Anxiety’s face. “I’ve been meaning to ask all day, and I don’t mean to be rude, but what happened to your face?”

Anxiety cringed, hand flying to cover his nose. Even though it’s not broken, his nose was still an ugly shade of purple. “I fought a door,” he joked, “the door won. Catch you later, Starlight.” And with that, he walked away.

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The next day, when Virgil gushed to Janus and Remus about how cute both Angel and Starlight were, they were cackling with laughter. He ended up sending another box of chocolates to Logan, if only to talk to someone that wasn’t laughing at him. They spent the weekend debating whether or not Pluto was a planet. Logan wasn’t quite sure how to respond to Virgil’s main argument of “Viva La Pluto Fuck You.” Virgil, on the other hand, was extremely thankful for those questions he had asked Starlight over Dwarf Planets. Every time he saw Patton or Logan take a moment to respond, he imagined how they would look in that moment; Patton’s face would be bright red from giggling. Logan’s would be bright red from Patton’s teasing puns. They would be curled up on the couch, their glasses shining from the bright light of their phones-

Wait a minute, why the hell was he imagining them with glasses? Sure, it would probably match their aesthetics (especially Logan’s nerdiness) but they’ve never mentioned wearing glasses. So why was he imagining it? Virgil thought for a few more minutes before he sighed, going back to their conversation. The increase in social interactions must be triggering his overactive imagination. That makes sense, right? Virgil smiled. Lo and Starlight would be proud of him, finding logical and rational reasoning instead of freaking out.

But why did that thought make him feel so… uneasy?

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

#useless gays #sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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idreamtofthereaper · 4 years

Text

What’s my Color?

pairings: non-ido!jisung x gender neutral reader

genre: soulmate au (fluff-angst, sad shit get ready)

an: so i’m a big fan of psycho pass (anime) and in season 2, it mostly surrounds around this question “What Color?” and I wanted to give it a different light.

---

When someone is born, they couldn’t see colors. They couldn’t see colors for as long as they haven’t met their soulmate. So for some, they started seeing colors as soon as they could remember, some during their middle school, some in their late 40s, some on their death bed and some never.

But for you, you saw colors for as long as you could remember.

That was an overstatement, you started seeing colors when you and your parents moved to a new house when you were 6.

When you and your mom went to your neighbors house and gave them a little ‘gift’ of fruit basket.

When you pressed the doorbell and a little boy about your age opened it, his mom standing behind him. Both the little boy’s mom and yours gave each other a greeting, in their own little world while the little boy and you just stared at each other.

“I like the color of your shirt.”

“Thank you, I like your bracelet too. I’m yn”

“I’m Jisung.”

As soon as those words were uttered, both of your families spend a lot of time together and getting the both of you to hang out with each other was a no brainer. The both of you clicked as soon as you both landed eyes on each other.

Since then, your destiny was sealed. And you couldn’t be happier.

Or so you thought.

The changes were subtle. It wasn’t that noticeable but you know something was off.

It started when you and Jisung went to the shore near your house.

When the day started, you were wondering why your surroundings wasn’t as bright, like the sun decided to have its color muted.

You wanted to call Jisung and postpone your outing, worried about the weather and not wanting to get caught under a storm. But he was already there as soon as you step out your bedroom, helping your mom out pack sandwiches and ushered you to the bathroom.

You forgot about the change of brightness until you reached the beach, realizing something was off when Jisung could barely open his eyes while you were okay.

“Isn’t your eyes stinging from the sun?”

“I have healthy eyes that I don’t use to play video games until 4 in the morning.”

But the subtle changes became more noticeable. And it took time as well.

You and Jisung finally got a place together and you thought it was going to solve everything, it didn’t. If anything, it only got worse.

It started with the red cover of your favorite book became muted, it’s not the shiny red as it used to when yesterday it was. And now, you could barely recognize your favorite green shirt. You couldn’t even recognize it if it wasn’t for the small logo on the front.

You love Jisung, you know your eyes still twinkle when you look at him. How as soon as you wake up, you wanted to spend it with him. How you couldn’t eat if he wasn’t with you.

But maybe it’s not love anymore, but a habit.

“Y/n, you alright? You’re looking off this past couple of days.” Your eyes darted up and saw Jisung looking at you with a worried look. Taking a seat beside you on the couch as he wrap his arms around you and put his head on your shoulder.

You chuckled and nodded, placing the mug of coffee on the table in front of you and lean back to the couch. Placing your hands on Jisung’s and your head on top of his. “I’m just lacking vitamins or something. But I’m fine.”

“Okay.” He answered, still looking at you worriedly. You then reassured him with a kiss. The both of you went to bed soon after, Jisung already planning a day for the both of you.

Since moving out, the both of you haven’t been to the beach near your old house. So as soon as you woke up, Jisung threw you his hoodie and pull you out your house, strapping you in the car and went to the nearest beach.

You were happy with the new place, but you couldn’t enjoy it much as everything was gray. You could only imagine how bright the sun was by the way it felt on your skin, how blue and clear the water when Jisung pulled you in. How white the sands are by the feel of it on your feet, and how green the trees are because of the wind on your skin.

But you could never fool the person you have been with since you were 6. He knew something was up, and he has a bad feeling as to what it is. But now, he just wanted to be with you on this moment.

“Yn, which shirt?” He asked excitedly, going in your shared bedroom and held two shirts in front of you.

Your face evidently falling from its color but Jisung didn’t let you know that, as you quickly put up another face from earlier and examined the shirt.

You couldn’t tell the difference, as you could only see gray. The first one was a plain button up shirt, the second one was plaid. And that’s the only difference you could see.

But still, you sat up from the bed and acted like you were seeing the colors. “Hmm, this one.” You said and pointed at the plain one, Jisung smiling and put it in front of you.

“Do you think the color suits me?”

“Of course, every color is your color.” You answered, trying to be as cheerful as possible.

Jisung looked down and gave you a smile, throwing the shirts on the bed and kissed your forehead as you wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him closer.

He wrapped his arms around you to hold you tightly, your face pressed to his stomach as you enjoyed his warmth. “What’s the occasion?” You asked with a muffled voice.

“Job interview, it’s a sudden one as well. I just got a call earlier and they want to meet me in 4 hours.”

You pulled back from him thought your arms was still on his waist, giving him a smile. “Then let’s get you prepped up.”

You helped Jisung pick a tie, one you also picked solely by the pattern and the shirt you picked earlier. You then gave him a blazer then bid Jisung a good bye with a good luck kiss, one that felt different. You couldn’t feel what’s different, only that it was laced with longing, one sealed with a promise.

When Jisung left and the door closed, you knew he knew.

You spend the day out the house to keep you occupied, going to the dog park, animal shelters, and lastly the beach Jisung took you a week ago.

With the wind whispering your ear and the sounds of the waves crashing, it gave you time to think.

You love Jisung, there’s no doubt about that. And you were willing to lose everything just not him. And that’s final. You will go home and as soon as you will see him, you will come clean about what you’re experiencing but promise it doesn’t change anything.

Happy with the clarity you have achieved, you went back home and was welcomed with your favorite take out.

“Hey, I was waiting for you. You’re just in time.” You closed the door behind you and went to Jisung, giving him a hug then a quick peck on the lips, one he beamed with happiness with.

“I’m guessing you got the job?” You asked cheerfully, taking a seat and Jisung doing the same beside you. You opened the packet of chopstick and gave a pair to him, you opened another one for yourself.

“I don’t know, but they want to see me again.” Jisung answered with a smile, but it wasn’t a cheerful or happy one like earlier. “Must be because of the outfit you picked out.”

You just nodded at his words, not liking the change of expression.

You continued eating in silence, not wanting to say or hear things you will regret later on.

“Y/n, what’s my color?” You stopped eating by Jisung’s question, avoiding his gaze as you kept your eyes down. “Y/n-”

“Stop, Jisung. Don’t, please.” You said, not letting his hand land on yours as you stood up and place your plates on the sink, walking away from the table. Busying yourself with the dishes but you knew Jisung was there.

“I won’t get mad, yn. What’s my color?” Jisung asked gently, grabbing your hands to face him. Your face was now facing his as he looked at you softly.

You then felt your pent up emotions coursing out of you as years fell from your eyes, shaking your head as an answer to his question. Jisung pulled you close to him as you sobbe, Jisung wrapping an arm around you. “I love you, so much. I love you, I don’t know what happened.”

“I understand, I love you too, don’t worry about it.” He answered, running his hands on your back for comfort. “I love you.”

You pulled back from the hug and grab his face, vision blurred from the tears. “I love you, I promise. Just give me some time, okay?”

Jisung didn’t answer, only giving you a sad smile then grab your hands away from his face. “What? Jisung?” You asked confused, eyeing him with worry and confusion.

“I can’t do this to you, yn. I can’t take away your colors.” Jisung said, giving you another kiss on the forehead and walked away to your shared bedroom, grabbing his bag then slung it to his shoulders.

You only watched him in shock but before he could exit, you grab his arm and hug his back, sobbing harder. “No, please. Please, I’m going to be better. Please, Jisung.”

He sighed deeply then turn to look at you. “You’re giving me colors I didn’t even knew existed. I couldn’t take those away from you. I know you’re not a liar, so you may love me, but not enough. Not like you used to.”

“No, no.” You sobbed, gripping his shirt tighter. “Don’t, please Jisung.”

“I love you, y/n. Nothing will change that for a long long time. But I need you to see the colors you gave me. It may still be me later on, but right now I can’t tie you down.” You only cried harder from his words, gripping his arms tighter but then nodded, understanding his reason.

He pulled you in for a hug and as soon as he let go, you knew there won’t be anything to follow that. “Thank you for giving me colors, yn. I hope you could find yours too soon.”

Again, you just nodded at his words and noticed the tears on his eyes too. He gently dab the tears falling on your face and smiled sadly at you. “Bye, yn.”

This time, you didn’t stop him when he turn around and walked out the door.

But before he could close it, you held it and faced him with a smile, your sobs now halting. “Jisung, what’s my color?”

He examined you, his eyes roaming you from top to bottom. He then looked at you in the eye, followed by a chuckle. “Brighter as ever.”

And you laughed at his answer because he didn’t even tried to hide it.

He was lying.

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

Text

Flowers don’t grow in the dark - pt. 3

A/N: I know I totally forgot about this fic for some odd reason but I am writing it as you can see. I finished it today. I should be doing german but I am doing this instead because I got inspired. I am going to do german now.

Sirius always deplored morning. Every morning, he woke up after doing something completely reckless and unforgiving, he lamented to Merlin himself and cursed his own mother as he did.

He woke up, wrapped in sheets with a pleasing smile on his lips. It was a consequence to the sexual experiance he always had with you. It always placed a pleased smile on him as Van Gogh would paint it himself. The only difference was the fifteen-year gap.

He sat up, looking around until he found an alarm clock near the window. His eyes went wide.

10:55.

He has never slept this late and- “Harry!” he immediately thought of his Godson, who must be freaking out after their last night talk.

‘ “Why didn’t you tell me!?” he fumed, clenching his fists and glaring at Sirius with his fiery green eyes.

Sirius wanted to smile, reminiscing on the moment he was always pleased to remember. Harry fuming at him just as Lily did at James.

But this wasn’t the time to reminisce of old memories. Harry wanted answers and he wanted them now.

Sirius seized his hand into his pocker and pulled out an old but well-kept wallet. He pulled out a photo- polaroid and gave it to the angry boy in front.

Harry tooked the photo and immediately relaxed as he saw his parents on it. “It’s mum-” he smiled widely as he saw Lily with an open-wide smile, almost hearing her laughter in his own head like a neglected memory he forgot he had.

“James and I always made everybody laugh.” Sirius started as Harry looked up at him, then back at the polaroid. “But nobody could make her laugh as much as your aunt (y/n) did.” he simpered, reminding himself of the memories he buried in the darkest of corners. “(y/n) and I used to hate each other just because of your father. I hated how he always went to her rescue, even for the little of things, and she hated how he spent his time with me. Guess we were both a bit jealous of each other.” he pointed at the laughing James in the photo who was holding you in his arms, ruffling your hair as you tried to get out. “She was older than him- an hour or so- but he was always acting more older than any of us. She had a tendency going into more trouble than James and I ever did. Mostly to piss off James for embarrasing her. That was why she befriended your mother and that was why your mother haven’t liked James for so long and why (y/n) have been bickering most of the time.”

“She didn’t want my parents to be together.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows and Sirius laughed.

“Oh, she knew they were perfect for each other, she just made James work harder for it.” he continued to laugh and Harry smiled. “I know I never told you about her and I am sorry, Harry. It’s just- I loved her. Deeply.” he smiled as Harry already felt quite uncomfortable hearing Sirius be all emotional and giddy in front of him but at the same time, he felt proud to be the one Sirius trusted into for the secrets he hid.

“But you said you hated her.”

“We did but we did fancy each other secretly.” Sirius wanted to wink, implying into the strong sexual chemistry the two of you shared, but he quickly reminded himself that was his godson and he is not ready for the birds and bees talk yet. “She was blunt and direct. She never did me any favors as some girls did at that time. She was mean, pompous and irritating. Also annoying-” he leaned to Harry and narrowed his eyes. “That was a trait James and her showed the most. Both were loud and annoying.” he said and Harry laughed. “But she challanged me the most. She wasn’t afraid to tell me who I was and at the end, I found out all the wonderful traits on her that I was missing before.”

“Like?”

“Like the one you share with her the most.”

“You look a lot like your mother and father, Harry but you have a habit of losing your temper quite a lot. Now, when you pissed off you aunt, she popped like champagne and started bursting anything that came into her mind. When you write, you lean your T’s and L’s meanwhile you get most of Lily’s handwriting. You also have your way with getting into trouble without trying.”

“I thought I got that after dad?”

“Nope. Your dad and I barely got caught meanwhile you, my dear boy, just end up in trouble without even meaning to.”

“It’s not my fault I can hear snakes in the walls.” he said and Sirius laughed, holding onto his stomach.

“Bet.” he continued to laugh. “She used to use that same line whenever overheard Slytherins gossiping.” he shook his head and Harry smiled even brigher. And somehow, from nowhere he touched his collarbone.

He used to do that since he was a kid but he never really understood why. It was as if something was missing but couldn’t truly know what.

Sirius knew that back then and now. He knew exactly what was Harry doing. He stood up, walked to his drawer, opened it and searched under his clothes. It took him a while to find it but when he found the red velvet box, he let it sit in his hand for a while. Somehow it was the feeling- the feeling that felt as near of feeling of you... of the old you.

He hasn’t opened it in years. He completely forgot it was there in the first place but whenever Harry touched his collar bone, he knew what he wanted.

So he turned around with a smile and walked back to his godson, pointing at his chest. “You ever wondered why you are doing that?” he asked and Harry looked down on his chest, looking back up and shaking his head.

“It’s a habit, I guess.”

“It is a habit.” Sirius smiled, holding the box inbetween his palms. “The same habit your father and aunt shared.” he then revealed what he was hiding in his hands and offered it to Harry.

He observed it at first, baffiling as if what could this be. A ring? Necklace? Bracelet? A pin?

He opened the box carefully, revealing a beautiful golden necklace with a charm in the middle. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Sirius. “It’s a leaf.”

Sirius laughed again, shaking his head. “It’s not any leaf, you pinhead. It’s an oak leaf.” he ruffled Harry’s hair and continued to chuckle. “There’s a tradition in your family that the grandparents give their grandchildren a golden necklace to secure them wealth, luck and joy in their life. Their grandparents gave them a necklace and when they were both 18 years old, James gave her a charm in the form of daisy, meanwhile she gave him a charm of a cactus.”

“And she gave me a leaf?”

“Can you just listen. It has a beautiful meaning.” Sirius started to lose patience with this boy. “I’m trying to be all affecting and motherly. You’re ruining the moment.” he joked and Harry laughed.

“Alright. Go on.”

“As I was saying... this tradition was important to your aunt but since both of your grandparents passed away sooner than it was expected, she made it her decision to keep the tradition going.” he took the the necklace from the box and put it around his neck. “You can take it down if you want but the day you were born, she promised us all that you are going to be the brave one. She always said you’ll be braver than James and more stubborn than Lily, yet also more troublemaking than her. The next day she bought you a golden necklace- with the leaf.” he tilted his head as he clipped it together and looked at Harry. “An oak leaf- meaning patience, faith, power, endurance, and strength.”

Harry touched the leaf on his chest and it felt like this was it. He felt he warmth and fuzziness as he touched it with his hand. It felt right and up until now, he felt as if he had missed it all his life, not knowing what it is, but knowing and having it brought more than just a memory of you. It brought the feeling of family.

“Both James and (y/n) always touched it. They both told me the same thing; that it brough them the feeling of family. I took it off you when you were a baby. Somehow I hated how it reminded me of her... after what she supposedly had done to you, James and Lily... and me.” he paused, looking at the smiling Harry. “I’m sorry, I kept it away hidden.” ‘

He told Harry he’d leave to catch up with you. He needed to know your intention with Harry and in general.

Appereantly, his intentions got mixed in the process. He grabbed his clothes, searching for his shirt as he had not found it.

He popped his head up as he was looking under the bed and narrowed his eyes at the distance.

You stole his shirt.

He went down the stairs, finding you in your shorts and his over-sized black T-shirt with a red Converse logo imprinted on it. You looked up innocently from your cup of coffee and grinned cheekly at the shirtless man in front of you.

“Don’t you look at me like that.” he narrowed his eyes. “Last night was a mistake.”

“Oh?” you tilted your head. “Was it really when you moaned out my name?” she winked and saw him blush in his pale white skin.

You still knew the way his buttons worked.

“You screamed mine.” he fired back but you only laughed.

“I’ve spent 15 years without sex. I bet if I had sex with a goblin I’d scream out his name.” you stood up and walked over to the sink, leaving Sirius shook.

“So what? You wouldn’t-”

“Sirius.” you cut him off, turning around and standing still. “I stopped loving you years ago. I don’t love you. I don’t love anybody in fact anymore. Yesterday was just sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Just sex and if you think it meant something- anything. You are the most indefinite wrong.”

“You don’t love me?” he kept his heart quite unconvinced.

“Nope.” you said as he took a step forward, another and another until he was up front.

He took a hold of his shirt on you and lift it up. “Then why are you wearing my shirt?”

You looked down and beamed. “Oh!” you looked back up and laughed. “It suits me better.” you walked out of his reach, uneffected by anything he said and walking to the sink to throw in the cup.

It was at this moment Sirius doubted his thoughts. Did you really not love him anymore? Did the girl who loved everything and everybody not love anything and anybody anymore?

“Wait...”

“I’m home!” he heard a shout and turned around to see a man beaming at the door. “I bought food!”

“Oh, yummy!” you laughed and jumped to the man who appeared in the front.

He couldn’t quite put a finger on it and it took him a while to notice who this man was.

The man was tall and slim- extremely slim, almost boney. His cheeks were sinkholes, drowning in blackness as well as his eyes. Beard was long and dark, frizzy and untreated. Hair was long as well but he couldn’t see the rest of the body that was covered in patched up clothes.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Black.” the man smiled and Sirius realized immediately who this was. “Now, I know I look like a corpse but I’m not dead yet.”

“We put some food into you and you’ll be good as new.” you tap the mans cheek and quickly pulled away. “Maybe shave first.”

“Oh, I bought us some sissors and shaving cream.” he pulled out and you laughed.

“Mulciber?!” Sirius couldn’t bring himself from the shock.

Mulciber pointed his finger at him then smiled at you. “Ah- there it is- wait?!” he looked at you, then kept swinging his finger between the two of you.

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“But I thought like later not like the second you got out.”

“Pay up.”

Sirius drew his eyebrows together, trying to put two and two together but felt hard time to do so. “Wait-”

“You can leave now, Sirius.” you tucked the money in your bra and walked with food bags to the table.

Sirius turned to you sharply. “Did you bet me?!”

“I knew sooner or later you would come and find me. More than so, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the undeniable sexual tension we have.” you winked as Sirius clenched his jaw.

“You used me?”

“You used me first.”

“It’s not fair!”

“What isn’t fair exactly, Sirius?!” you snapped at him.

“You being with Mulciber! Having bets with him! Being all friendly with him!!!”

“So, you’re jealous, are you Sirius?!” you took a step closer, watching him be quiet. “You had fifteen years to prove you loved me.” you sneered at him, gritting your teeth. “Fifteen long years but if you hadn’t done anything about me being taken away, you don’t get to be jealous about it. A lot can change in fifteen years-” you glanced behind him, looking at Mulciber. “And he has proven being more of a friend that you ever did as a fiance.” you kept glaring at him as he kept his expression was kept the same.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, see how his jaw clenched and curses ran through his mind.

Yes, this was the man you once loved but this man has broken you more than Azkaban ever did.

“Leave.” you growled, looking directly into his eyes.

And he did. He left.

He left just as you did all those years ago; grieving.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders #maruaders imagine #marauders x reader #james potter imagine

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Chunky Bracelets

I was gonna only do half of this today but then I finished it.

Summary: Icy reflects on her past; decidedly, it is better to do the victimizing than be the victim.

Self-harm mentions.

Sometimes the face reflected in the glass isn’t the one she wants. Sometimes the face in the mirror seems unnatural, like it shouldn’t be. And maybe that’s because it is. It was different some time ago...a long time ago now.

Icy rummages through her drawer and finds her favorite eyeshadow, her mascara, and her eyeliner. She draws it on thick and winged, accents her lashes, and adds a soft tint to her lips. Sometimes she chooses black or a deep navy blue, but today she is feeling for something lighter. Something like first frost on the grass. She fixes her hair into it’s high ponytail and accents it with diamonds, some faux and some real.

Her work is done. She is nothing like she was back then.

And she should be glad for it. There was nothing to like about her back then. Not her weird interests, not her awkward personality, and certainly not her looks--the way she dressed, her unkept, unwashed hair. Those ridiculous glasses and those painful braces.

She taps her eyeliner pencil against her chin; she could probably make it work now. The outfit anyhow. She thinks that her style of dress wouldn’t have been so terrible had it not clashed with whatever the hell had been going on with her face and personality.

Chunky studded bracelets clamped over blue and black arm warmers that fit too loosely around her arms paired with a ridiculously oversized muscle tank top--she can’t remember which band logo it had boasted. Ripped skinny jeans--they would have been anyhow if they weren’t so baggy on her--tucked into studded combat boots.

Yes, she could make that work now. But they didn’t sit well with braces, and glasses, and tangled hair. They were worn even worse on someone who stuttered through every conversation. Someone who rambled on about stupid things like snowglobe collections, famous brooms used by famous witches, and bands that no one else cared about.

She runs the comb through her hair until it is silky and immaculate. Until she has worked any trace of that person out with the knots. She doesn’t think about that person often. She tries to think none of her at all. Even still, after so long, and even in private solitude, it brings color to her pale cheeks.

Icy had been such an easy target, she doesn’t blame the lot of them. She wasn’t their favorite; their favorite was a short chubby girl with awful hand-eye coordination and a habit of stumbling over her own feet. But she was a good second.

They had many names for her but mostly she was a poser. A wannabe. An abomination to the punk-rock scene.

And her lyrics were just as absurd. Solstice had made that clear enough when she snagged her notebook and read them all out loud.

“Sing for us, Icy!” She shouted. “We want a concert!”

She did. She isn’t sure what she thought she would accomplish. Maybe she thought that she would have been a phenomenal singer, that she would have showed them all. And maybe she would have if she hadn’t been red-faced and anxious. Her song was shaky and off key.

She never sang again. Never wanted to.

For a time she unclasped the studded bracelets and swapped her skinny jeans for plain blue jeans. She traded her tank tops for oversized plaid sweaters in a soft baby blue. Somehow that made things worse. And of course that did. She was no longer a wannabe but a full blown dork. She supposes that at least the style had fit the person.

She picks through her closet for something to wear. She isn’t sure if she wants to go for the pastel goth aesthetics or something darker, something old school--batcave maybe. But then she’d have to break out the hairspray and style it all over again.

She transferred schools after that year. When they started throwing things at her and crafting little ornaments to hang in her hair she had requested the transfer. Her requests went ignored until she got careless--until her sleeve fell back and they found the scars.

She runs her fingers over them. Where they would be if she hadn’t tattooed over them. If she can’t see them, then they aren’t there. If they aren’t there then she never had a reason to put them there. If she never had a reason to put them there then she was never anything but suave and cool, smooth and confident.

The school that she was transferred to was smaller. Private. It wasn’t even in her home realm. She tried many styles then; one week she was preppy, the next she tried for something more sporty, and the week after that was whatever everyone else was wearing. And then she settled on simply being a punk-rock poser again. At least that took little effort and acting. There is something poetic about that, she knows.

She settles for pastel goth today, it goes well with her hair. She holds the dress against her body. Her elegant, slender body. There is a soft shimmer to her skin. Her skin has always had a shimmer to it. She studies the mirror again. Her cheeks are sculpted just as elegantly, her eyes are framed with makeup instead of glasses. Her hair falls over her shoulder in long, groomed waves. She has a pretty face. She likes to think that it is well earned.

She has earned her right to look down on the frizzy-haired and the bespectacled. She has earned her right to mock fareries that are too fat for their wings and witches that are skinnier than their broomsticks. She has earned her right to torment those who need to get themselves together.

She is glamorous. She has status. She has earned her right… And yet she feels hollow. Fake.

It is a nagging and persistent itch that is ever present each time she opens her mouth to let one of those loathsome pixies know that they are weak. She is fake. It is all a lie.

She tugs her dress on and steps out into the hallway.

“Oh perfect, you’re just on time!” Stormy greets.

“We were just reminding Mirta that she doesn’t belong here.” Darcy adds.

The girl is cornered. Icy rolls her eyes. The girl makes it too easy. Laughably easy. She is wearing Lucy’s arm warmers. She squeezes her eyes shut and covers her ears with her hands. Her fingernails are painted in an alternating red and black.

“She doesn’t need the reminder, she already knows.” Icy shrugs. “Don’t you, Mirta?”

“Y-yes.”

Icy rolls her eyes. “Then what are you doing here? This is a school for witches not, whatever the hell you are.”

“She’s a fairy in a witch’s clothing.” Stormy remarks.

“A poser.” Darcy comments, quirking a perfectly penciled brow.

A poser… Icy folds her arms over her chest.

She doesn’t think much of it throughout the day. She doesn’t think of it at all, really. Not until she makes it back to the dorm. And then she doesn’t stop thinking about it.

And the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks that she had made a mistake. She isn’t sure which kind or when exactly she had made it. But when she stands in front of the mirror and scrubs her eye makeup away, she is damn near certain that she has.

Sometimes when she stares for too long at her bare face she sees an awkward girl with glasses and braces and messy hair. And sometimes when she stares for much too long, she misses that person. That kinder person. That lanky girl with the arm warmers, studded bracelets, and oversized shirt. That stupid girl who--rather poorly--played the guitar in a stupid garage band.

“Hey.” Darcy leans in the door frame. “We’re going to the bar. You coming?”

“Let me reapply my makeup.”

“We still have to get ready too.” Stormy shrugs.

Icy wanders back to her closet. To the very back of it; he tugs on the arm warmers, clamps on those chunky studded bracelets. For old time’s sake, she tells herself.

#Winx #Winx Club #Winx Icy #Trix Icy #Fanfiction

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Someone Like You

I recommend a bathroom break and a beverage (maybe peppermint tea) before you sit down to this one folks, it's kinda long. I keep trying to read this through 'one more time' to make sure I've done a clean edit and every time I end up adding a couple hundred words so I'm declaring it DONE and if there typos we'll all just live with it. I never catch them all anyway.

Marinette was a people watcher. She always had been; it was kind of a professional requirement, in her own mind. There were fashion designers who didn’t notice people much, and in Marinette’s opinion, it always showed in their clothing. Marinette didn’t want to be that kind of designer, the kind that started hyperventilating if their models deviated from the standard look in the slightest, so she paid attention to the people around her—to their shapes, to their colors, to their styles. She’d seen so many interesting people since moving into her high rise apartment, and since she saw most of them at least a few times a week, she’d been able to learn more about them than the people she saw on the street.

There was the plump lady with the big smile who lived a few doors from her whose hair was spiky purple but whose clothes were earth-toned and flowy. Marinette nicknamed her Allium in her mind after the flower. There was Cat Lady Carrie on the fourth floor, who always entered the elevator covered in multicolored cat fur as if she wore it with pride over her mostly black, but otherwise extremely practical, wardrobe. There was Workout Maniac Kim from the seventh floor, who had a peppy greeting for everyone and was always wearing gym shorts except on the very coldest days, when he condescended to wear sweatpants. Marinette hadn’t been sure why he rode the elevator at all until a chance comment during one of their short conversations revealed that he had an old knee injury that made stairs difficult for him.

Today when the elevator stopped on its journey to the ground, the doors opened on The Boy From The Sixth Floor, which was kind of a stupid name, but even after a couple of months of running into him, she hadn’t come up with anything better, because she had trouble picking one thing that defined him. He was tall, with pierced ears and shaggy black hair dyed blue at the tips. He usually kept his gaze on the floor, but he always made eye contact briefly as he greeted her or when he uttered his polite, “Have a good day,” on his way out of the elevator, so she knew his eyes were blue. His wardrobe varied a lot; he clearly wasn’t someone who adhered to any particular capital-S style, and he just wore what he liked, but almost always in layers, dominated by shades of blue and black and white, and almost always with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He had a narrow build and slightly slumped shoulders, but she could see strength in his bare forearms, accented by the thick bracelets he wore on one wrist.

Marinette was curious about him but he seemed—not shy exactly, but hesitant, reserved, like he enjoyed quiet, and it made her less willing to strike up a conversation with him than others. People like him probably thought people like her were boring, anyway, so aside from polite eye contact when one of them was entering or exiting, Marinette tried to keep her eyes forward and not bother him with her presence. It did mean she never got a good look at the tattoos extending from beneath his sleeves down to the backs of his hands, which was a shame. Marinette didn’t have any tattoos herself but they fascinated her as an art form. She was herself in the business of decorating the human body, after all, just...less permanently. She had toyed briefly with the idea of a clothing line that featured openings in the most common tattoo locations, but it would be a hard sell to the higher ups, so she had shelved the idea. Probably no one would be interested in such a thing anyway, right?

“Evening,” he said quietly, as he stepped onto the elevator, his blue eyes flicking to hers and then away quickly. He always spoke softly, and his voice was smooth and pleasant. She smiled politely and nodded in response to his greeting as he moved to the other corner and leaned one shoulder against the wall. He had an instrument case slung over his shoulder, but Marinette didn’t get a good look at it. That explained the slight slouch, she observed, if he was used to carrying something like that around. She remembered he frequently had earbuds around his neck when he came in. Not a big deal, many people did, but if he was a musician that would make sense. His t-shirts had a lot of band logos on them, too, now that she came to think of it. Interesting.

Marinette was so lost in thought that she was caught completely off guard when the elevator suddenly jerked, moved and then jerked again, She tried to take a step to steady herself but the pencil skirt she was wearing didn’t allow her legs to go as wide as she tried to plant them, and she tipped over with a yelp.

Her companion moved to catch her, and she fell into his chest as he got one arm under her and grabbed the railing with his other hand to steady them both. He was strong, Marinette thought thankfully, half bent over the arm around her waist that was the only thing keeping her from falling. She grabbed onto him automatically as the elevator shuddered again.

The jolting only lasted a moment before they ground to a halt, but they both stood braced for another several seconds, waiting for...something. Marinette had time to notice there was a protectiveness in the way he held her. It would have been nice, if she wasn’t scared out of her mind.

Both of them relaxed at the same time, apparently convinced that...whatever had happened, was over.

“You okay?” he asked in his soft voice, putting his hands on her upper arms and gently pushing her upright.

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, looking at the ceiling of the elevator as if it had answers. “What was that?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered, looking around as well. “But it sounds like we’re not moving anymore.”

Marinette made a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper. She didn’t even realize her fingers were still clutching the fabric of his jacket until he took her hands in his and gently unhooked them.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, snatching her hands back quickly and moving back to her side of the elevator. “Um, thanks for catching me.” God, how embarrassing.

“No worries.” He crossed to the control panel and pressed the alarm button. The response they got from maintenance wasn’t encouraging. They weren’t sure what had happened but they were sending a technician to check the pulley system.

“At least it’s not a power outage,” he said, sounding like he was speaking more to himself than Marinette, “So we still have climate control and ventilation.” They both stood there stupidly for a moment before he made a slight oh well gesture with his arms, and then sat down and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

“I guess we might as well get comfortable,” he sighed, taking off his jacket and the hoodie he wore underneath it, leaving him in a ripped white t-shirt. “My name’s Luka,” he said, drawing his knees up and setting his elbows across them. “Do you feel comfortable telling me yours?”

“Oh,” Marinette said, a little surprised by his phrasing. “It’s um, Marinette.” Reluctantly, she slipped off her heels and leaned back against the elevator wall with a sigh, gripping the rail a little too tightly.

“Marinette,” Luka smiled, taking his phone out of his pocket and beginning to type, presumably to text whoever he was supposed to be meeting. “That’s pretty.” He glanced up at her. “You look nervous. Are you scared of closed spaces or is it me?”

“What?” Marinette’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, it’s not you at all! Or, well, not anything about you specifically. I’d be just as nervous with anyone else. It’s not even really the space, I’m just...kind of a nervous person in general. Always lots of energy, and not too many outlets for it. I’m sorry if I made you think that.” She released her death grip on the rail and dug in her bag for her own phone, figuring she’d better let Alya know about her situation.

Luka smiled. “You just seemed uncomfortable, and sometimes people like you are a little freaked out by people like me.” He made a gesture that indicated his dyed hair and piercings.

“Oh, no, no, you look good,” Marinette said quickly, and then backpedaled, horrified at herself. “I mean, I like your look, it suits you! That’s what fashion should be about, expressing yourself.” She smoothed down her skirt absently. “Just because I’m me and you’re you doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Luka’s smile spread slowly across his face. “I’m glad you think so. Are you sure you don’t want to sit down? I can move a little if you need more space.”

Marinette flushed. “I’m fine. Really.”

Luka raised his eyebrows. He looked her over for a moment and then nodded as though he understood something. “I can look the other way while you get situated if you want.”

Marinette’s face burned and she covered her red cheeks with her hands. “Would you mind?”

“Of course not.” Luka faced the wall, which thankfully wasn’t mirrored, and Marinette got down on her knees on the floor and tried to find a position that wouldn’t have her skirt riding up her thighs every time she moved. She let out a frustrated huff.

“Of course I decided to wear a skirt today,” she muttered. “Of course.” She took off her cropped jacket and spread it across her knees, but it was too small to really help much. Still, it was the best she could do.

“Okay, you can look now,” she sighed.

Luka turned around. Seeing her situation, he picked up his hoodie and offered it to her.

“Thank you,” Marinette said gratefully, accepting it. It was large enough to almost totally cover her legs no matter how she sat. “That’s much better.”

He smiled. “The situation sucks as it is. I don’t want either of us to be any more uncomfortable than necessary.”

Marinette smiled back, the first genuine smile she had managed since the elevator ground to a halt. “You’re very thoughtful, Luka.”

All he said was a soft, “thank you,” but Marinette thought he was blushing just a little. It was...sweet.

It gave her the courage to say, after a few minutes of silence, “Were you heading anywhere important?”

“Band practice,” Luka said, nodding at the instrument case beside him.

“Oh, what do you play?” Marinette asked, craning her neck to see the case.

“Electric guitar,” Luka said, shifting a little so she could see it better.

“That’s so cool,” Marinette said brightly. “I played the flute when I was a kid but I never really had a passion for it. What kind of music? How long have you been playing?”

“Practically my whole life,” Luka smiled.

Marinette gasped. “Sorry! Am I talking too much? I told you, too much energy and not enough outlet for it, and pretty soon it all goes to running my mouth, but we can be quiet if you’d rather—“

She stopped as Luka began to laugh quietly, one hand covering his mouth. His fingernails were painted a shiny black, she noticed.

“You’re funny, Marinette,” Luka grinned. “You were fine, I don’t mind talking. But tell me about you, if that’s okay.”

“Me?” Marinette blinked. “Oh, I’m...well I’m not that interesting, really.” Not like he was,

Luka hmmed. “Tell me anyway. You know my passion’s music, what’s yours?”

Something about the intent way he was looking at her made her face feel warm. “Um, fashion design,” she said shyly, sure it would sound shallow to someone like Luka.

“Really,” he said, eyebrows raising slightly. “My sister models part time.”

“I—oh, really?” Marinette managed not to gape at him but it was a near thing.

“Yeah, she’s been doing it for a few years now.” Luka pulled out his phone again and fiddled with it for a moment, and then offered it to Marinette. She took it and looked curiously at the photo. Luka was standing with a girl with striking amber brown eyes and long black hair. She was clearly made up and styled for a runway show. Luka had his arm around her shoulders and though his posture was relaxed as always, he had an adorably over-enthusiastic wide smile and his eyes were lit up with pride. His sister had an indulgent smile on her face that clearly said my brother is a dork and I adore him.

“Oh!” Marinette gasped. “I’ve seen her with you before, I thought she was your—” she stopped, and blushed.

“Girlfriend?” Luka smiled, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, we’ve gotten that before because we’re so close in age and we don’t look much alike. Juleka looks more like our mom and I, unfortunately, got Dad’s genes.”

“It’s not unfortunate, you’re really cute!” Marinette scolded, speaking thoughtlessly in her anger at him putting himself down. She couldn’t stand to hear people talk badly about themselves. Luka looked down at the floor between his knees, presumably to hide the smirk she could still see the corner of.

“Well,” he said, not looking at her. “Thanks, but...still no girlfriend, just an awesome kid sister.”

“You’re so cute together,” Marinette continued in a rush, hoping to brush past the awkwardness. “I mean, now that I understand the relationship I can totally see how much you care about each other!” Marinette looked at the picture again and giggled. “You’re really proud of her aren’t you? It looks like you guys are close.”

“We are,” Luka said simply, taking his phone back when she handed it to him and swiping through a few more pictures. “And I am proud of her. She had some major hurdles but she kept chasing her dreams.” He turned the phone back to her, showing her another picture of his sister, this time clearly a professional shot.

“Her eyes are amazing,” Marinette observed.

“So are yours,” Luka commented, and then they both looked up, perhaps equally startled at his statement. She could see him swallow as his cheeks tinted pink.

“Thank you,” Marinette said with a smile, deciding to save him from the clear indecision he was suffering between trying to say something else, perhaps to play it off, and keeping his mouth shut lest he make it worse. It was a worry she was very familiar with, after all. “So she’s been modeling a while? I don’t remember her but you see so many models, you know, and I’m always looking at the clothes. With eyes like that, she should really try cosmetic ads, she’d be killer.”

Luka smiled, an affectionate look on his face. “Her agent’s looking into that, actually.”

“Awesome!” Marinette clapped her hands. “Oh, she’ll be amazing! You’ll have to let me know which ad campaigns she works with so I can check them out!” Luka’s smile broadened into a grin, and for once his gaze remained steady on her.

Suddenly self-conscious, Marinette reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and smooth the rest back. She’d lost a few strands out of her bun during the elevator-quake, it seemed, and they were tickling her neck. Luka looked away quickly and cleared his throat, but he asked, “So do you design professionally, or just for fun?”

“Both,” Marinette answered, still a little fluttered. “I mean, I work at a design firm but I’m just starting out, so I don’t do as much actual design as I hope to in the future. Right now it’s a lot of sewing and altering and trying to find tactful ways to suggest that maybe my boss has lost her mind every once in a while.”

Luka covered his chuckle with his hand. “That’s an important job.”

“I also run a boutique business online for custom commissions,” Marinette continued, smiling a little herself. “It means I’m working a lot, but it keeps the creativity alive even when my job makes me feel like a soulless drone.”

Luka laughed—not loud, but a full laugh and not just a quiet chuckle. Marinette found herself smiling, pleased with her accomplishment.

“You’re funny, Marinette,” Luka said again, his smile warm, not at all like the cool politeness she was used to from him.

He...really was cute when he smiled like that. And his eyes were nice—softer than she’d realized before.

A silence descended that wasn’t quite awkward but wasn’t quite comfortable, either, like neither of them wanted the conversation to stop, but neither knew exactly where to take it from here, either.

Marinette took a breath, bit her lip, and then plunged onward. “Do you, um...do you want to see some of my work? Since we don’t have anything else to do...”

Luka brightened. “Yeah, I’d love to!”

Marinette, still smiling, tucked that loose strand of hair back again and reached for her bag. She pulled out her sketchbook and set it aside, and then pulled out the portfolio that had been underneath it and shyly offered it to Luka. He took it and then hesitated a moment before gesturing to the space next to her. “May I?”

“Mmhmm!” Marinette made a token shift to the side as Luka got on his knees and shuffled over to the space beside her. He settled next to her, his arm brushing hers slightly but only because the elevator just wasn’t all that wide. He smelled nice, she thought absently as he opened her portfolio across his lap. It occurred to her to be glad she was stuck in the elevator with someone clean. She leaned closer for a second to reposition her legs; one was starting to fall asleep tucked under her as it was. With Luka’s hoodie to keep her covered she could sit more comfortably.

“I like your perfume,” Luka commented. “Subtle. It’s nice.” Then he glanced up with a slightly startled look on his face, like his mouth had gotten ahead of him—a feeling she was very familiar with. “Sorry, was that weird?” he asked with a slight hunch of his shoulders and a lopsided grin. “It’s just—there’s a girl on my floor that wears way too much and I was just thinking I’m glad I’m not here with her.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. “The one with the yellow designer jacket and super expensive sunglasses?”

Luka grinned. “I’ve never noticed the sunglasses but yeah, the jacket’s um...hard to miss.”

Marinette smiled. “It would be awful to be stuck in here with her. Sometimes I can barely stand it until we get to the lobby. And honestly, I was just thinking I’m glad I’m here with someone like you and not, like, Kim fresh from a workout. I mean, he’s a nice guy, but…” She shrugged, wrinkling her nose.

Luka chuckled, then cleared his throat and looked back to her portfolio. He didn’t say anything as he went through it, but he studied each sketch and its paired photographs with great care. Marinette fell to examining the tattoos on the arm nearest her, finally able to indulge her interest, especially since the t-shirt covered considerably less than his outer layers and bared parts of the tattoo she hadn’t even glimpsed before. The design flowed along the lines of his arm nicely, each individual element clearly considered in light of the entire piece. The music themes didn’t surprise her but the nautical ones did. There was a compass rose in particular that she found very interesting, with symbols at each cardinal point that surely meant something to him.

“These are amazing, Marinette.” She was so lost in her thoughts that his gentle voice made her jump. Luka turned back several pages from the end. “I really like this one.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, surprised.

“Well, it’s not my personal style,” Luka smiled without looking up from the page. “But I can see the art in it. It’s very evocative. When I look at it, I feel like I know something about the person you made it for. And that’s what you were saying, right? Fashion should be about expressing yourself. I feel like this one is really true to that intention. It might not express me as a person, but it does express someone and I love that about it.”

Marinette stared at him in surprise for so long that Luka looked up to meet her eyes. She’d been leaning in to look at the book in his lap and when he raised his head his face was suddenly closer to her than she expected.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, and she jerked back slightly.

“No, no, not at all. I’m—that’s great, what you said, that makes me really happy. I guess I didn’t expect you to be so thoughtful about it.”

Luka tilted his head slightly, a bit of amusement flickering across his expression. “Just because my art isn’t your art doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it, once you show me how. I mean, I’ll admit,” he looked back down at the portfolio, “There’s a lot here I don’t understand, and even though I feel like I could describe this person, I’m not sure I’d be able to articulate why I felt that way. But, you know, that’s how we learn about each other, right?” He smiled that warm smile at her again and Marinette felt her pulse speeding up as her face heated.

“Sorry, am I too much?” he asked, leaning back a little. “Juleka says I’m too intense sometimes.”

“I don’t mind it,” Marinette said, smiling shyly. “I like it.”

There was no doubt that color washed his cheeks this time, and for a moment his expression clearly showed how pleased he was before he looked down and closed the portfolio, smoothing the pages carefully so nothing wrinkled. “You can tell me if I’m overstepping, but...is that new stuff you’ve been working on?” Luka indicated her sketchbook.

“Oh! Yes, it is,” Marinette said, picking it up and holding it to her.

“Would you be willing to share it with me?” Luka asked. “I’m really curious. Only if you’d be comfortable though, no pressure.”

“You really want to see?” Marinette asked, and she pursed her lips for a moment when he nodded. “I don’t mind,” she said slowly. “But...I need you to put your phone where I can see it. I have some client work in here that I can’t allow to get out, and I can’t tell you who it’s for. One set of eyes is no big deal, but I can’t have pictures going out or they’d never work with me again.”

Luka blinked at her for a moment, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled, taking it. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I can’t risk my client’s privacy based on my intuition.”

“I understand,” Luka said with a slightly lopsided smile, “And we did just meet, after all. It would be completely reasonable for you not to trust me.”

Marinette just smiled and set his phone carefully on the floor where he could reach it, but not without her seeing. Then she offered her sketchbook to him. Luka took it with one hand, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“You sure? I don’t have to look at the whole thing, you can just pick what you want to show me.”

Marinette shrugged. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Like I said, one set of eyes won’t matter, and I don’t think you’re going to sit here and memorize anything just to steal my designs,” she teased, leaning over to bump her shoulder against his.

“Hardly,” Luka chuckled, running his fingers lightly over the cover of the book before opening it.

Luka went over the pages of the sketchbook with the same attention he’d given her portfolio. A couple of times he smiled, and Marinette peeked around him to see what he was looking at. One was a page where the design had just been a total failure and she had written some unkind things about the inventor of that particular fabric in the margin. One was a cutesy, flirty outfit she’d designed for herself. Luka darted a glance at her, murmured, “I like the ruffles,” and turned the page, that hint of pink back on his cheeks.

He paused a long time on the commission she had been trying to safeguard, but that didn’t surprise her, as it probably had the most in common with his own aesthetic. She was, however, completely surprised by what came out of his mouth as he poured over the design.

“Jagged Stone,” Luka said absently, eyes still glued to the page.

“W-what?” Marinette stammered.

“This stuff, it makes me think of Jagged St—” He looked up, catching Marinette’s expression. She wasn’t sure what kind of face she was making. Certainly on the inside she was too mixed up to settle on one. Horror, fear, delight, admiration, hilarity—she couldn’t seem to decide how to react. “Holy shit,” Luka said, his eyes traveling over her face. “Your mystery client is Jagged fucking Stone?”

“Um…” Marinette said slowly, “I...can’t confirm that.”

“You don’t have to,” Luka said, still staring at her. “There’s no one else alive with Jagged’s style, and this—” He held up the sketchbook, turning it toward her. “It can’t be anyone else, Marinette. I’ve been following Jagged Stone’s career since I was old enough to pronounce his name.”

Marinette bit her lip, and sighed. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she nearly begged. “If it is Jagged, and I’m not saying it is, I can’t let this get out, I’d have to scrap everything and start over, if he’d even still want to have me—”

“Of course, of course,” Luka said, putting the sketchbook down quickly and taking her hand between both of his. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Of course I’d never say anything, not that anyone would likely believe me if I did. And Jagged would be crazy to fire you. Uh, if it actually was Jagged you worked for,” he added hurriedly. “But I mean, Marinette, look at this.” He let go of her hand and picked up the sketchbook again. “You get him. This is so original, it’s not like anything he’s ever worn before, and yet it’s so Jagged at the same time, I’m just—I’m blown away, really.”

“You...really think so?” Marinette asked hesitantly. “You like it? You think Jagged will like it?”

“He’s eccentric, not stupid, so yeah, I know he will.” Luka sighed, looking back down at the book. “Man, I wish we could get a designer for our band with even half your talent. Is this one for an album cover? No, never mind, you probably can’t tell me that.”

“Tell me about your band,” Marinette said, drawing up her knees under his hoodie and wrapping her arms around her legs. “Have you been playing with them long?”

“Individually I have,” he said, still looking through her sketchbook. “But we just decided to group up a couple months ago. I’ve played with a few other bands and they were all cool people but I never quite clicked with them the way I have with Kitty Section.” He chuckled. “Helps that Juleka’s our bassist, and her girlfriend does our vocals, and then Rose has been friends with our drummer since they were kids. I think maybe that’s why we vibe together so well.”

“That’s your band name, Kitty Section?”

“Yes. It’s pretty much all we’ve got right now, plus a few songs I’ve written. We haven’t been together long enough to put a look and a brand together. Not like these,” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned a page. He hadn’t lifted his eyes once the whole time he’d spoken. “You are really good at what you do, Marinette.”

Marinette blushed hotly. When she showed her designs to laypeople, she was used to being told she was “talented” like she hadn’t worked hard and studied to get her skills where they were, or that she was “creative” like it was something she did without thought or purpose. She liked Luka’s compliment better.

“Wait, did you say you wrote the songs?” she asked, eyes widening slightly.

“Well, I write the melodies,” Luka replied, resting his chin on his hand as he turned the page. “Rose mostly does the lyrics. I work a lot easier with music than words. I have a feeling or a thought that I want to express, I work it out in the music, and then Rose takes the demo I give her and puts words to it. Usually she’s pretty spot on in a kinda metaphorical way.” He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “If I don’t love it, we go back and forth until we get something we’re happy with.”

“Do you, um...do you have any of your music with you?” Marinette asked.

Luka looked up, startled. “Uh, yeah, I’ve got some on my phone. Just some tracks we recorded ourselves, though, nothing like, professional.”

“Can I listen?”

Luka looked like she’d just handed him a million bucks and Jagged’s autograph. “Really? I mean, sure, let me—” He started to reach for his phone, and then closed the sketchbook and handed it back to her. Marinette took it gratefully, and Luka picked up his phone and queued up the music. “It’d sound better if I had better speakers,” he muttered almost to himself as he set the phone back in the place Marinette had put it before.

Marinette gave the sketchbook back to him, leaned back and closed her eyes, listening to the music. It was...eclectic. She almost would have said that the band was still finding its sound, but it didn’t feel like that. It just felt like they embraced a wide reading of their genre. There was a really fun song about unicorns and cats and…

Marinette’s eyes flew open and she dug in her bag for her pencil case. Then she plucked her sketchbook out of Luka’s hands and turned to a blank page.

“Marinette?” Luka asked, sounding slightly bewildered though she didn’t look up at him to see.

“Can you play that last one again?” Marinette asked distractedly, setting her pencil moving across the page.

“Yeah, sure,” Luka said, still sounding puzzled as he reached for the phone.

“Put it on repeat one please.”

“Okay...”

Marinette began writing. First the name of the band, then phrases that jumped out at her from the songs, then words the music called to mind, then words that described Luka himself. Shapes and colors swirled around in her mind as she wrote, and then she began to sketch. She heard Luka’s intake of breath beside her but forgot it before she could even glance up.

She paused here and there, swapping out colored pencils and bobbing her head to the rhythm while she thought, but she kept a nice, smooth creative flow. It was easy, designing free form like this, not having to worry about making it look like her design house’s style, or even Jagged’s, just...creating something wholly new. It was nice. It was fun.

When she sat back with a sigh, stretching her cramping fingers, she realized Luka had moved back across from her and his guitar was in his lap.

“You’ve been playing?” Marinette asked, blinking. How had she not noticed that?

Luka smiled, and swept his pick down the strings, sending a muted series of notes into the small space. “Just playing along with the song. It doesn’t sound that great without an amp but at least this way I get a little practice. You were clearly in the zone and I didn’t want to be in the way. And...to be honest I had to do something or I’d have burned a hole through you with my eyes. Are you finished? Can I see?”

“I—oh.” Marinette looked down at her work and blushed. “Yeah, I...you know it’s probably stupid, we didn’t even talk about what you were looking for, but you know, I heard the song and I had the idea and—well it made sense at the time. It’s probably all wrong, though,” she sighed, holding the sketchbook to her chest. “I mean, without a proper consultation…I haven’t even met your other band members, just you, and…”

“May I see?” Luka asked, reaching toward the sketchbook but not touching either it, or her. “I mean, I tried not to watch, I didn’t know if you’d want me to, but what I did see—please?” He gave her the most irresistible puppy eyes she’d ever seen on a grown man.

She giggled and looked down. Marinette took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She always had this moment, after an initial sketch was finished, this sudden conviction that everything she’d just done was awful, but she’d learned to ignore it, to just suck it up and hand over the design and let the client decide. She offered the sketchbook to Luka with a nervous smile.

He took it, his eyes lingering on her as he turned it to face him, and then he looked down at the sketch and sucked in his breath.

Marinette bit her lip hard in an attempt not to babble all the disclaimers, pushing that stupid piece of hair back again, and waited, tense.

When he finally spoke, it was so softly she barely heard him. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, laying his long fingers on the page next to her sketch. “You got all of this just—just from the music?” He looked up at her and she swore for an instant there were stars in his eyes. “You’re amazing, Marinette. I don’t think...I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten my music like this except Juleka.”

“Not just from the music,” she said, her own voice hushed to match his, unable to tear her eyes away when he looked at her like that. “From you, too. I mean we only talked today, but I’ve seen you around lots, so I took your style and...amplified it. Played it up.” She shrugged, cutting herself out before she could start babbling.

“You noticed me?” Luka blinked, and Marinette burst out laughing.

“Of course I did, you’re hard to miss.”

“Right,” Luka looked embarrassed and turned his face away. “I—”

He was interrupted by a buzz and a voice from the emergency panel. “Okay, hang on folks, we think we fixed the problem. We’re bringing you to the ground floor now. It’ll be a bit slower than usual, but I assure you that’s entirely normal and you’re in no danger.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” Luka snorted softly. They shared a grin, and began gathering up their things. Luka stood up and offered her a hand. She accepted, letting him pull her to her feet. He politely looked away as she tugged down her skirt and settled it back into place. She gave him back his hoodie and slipped her little cropped jacket back on, stepping carefully back into her pumps.

“It might not have been the greatest outfit for sitting on the floor,” Luka observed, darting her a shy smile as he put his coat back on and ducked under the strap of his guitar case. “But you look really cute in it.”

Marinette giggled, blushing, and Luka chuckled through his nose, grinning at the floor. The elevator started moving with a gentle bump and slowly began to descend. Marinette grabbed Luka’s sleeve reflexively, and turned apologetic but pleading eyes up at him. He chuckled and removed her hand only to wrap his own around it and squeeze tightly. They stood there, each with their free hand gripping the rail as they held onto the elevator and each other for dear life. Neither of them let go until the elevator doors began to slide open.

When they finally stepped off the elevator, Marinette hugged the maintenance tech waiting there impulsively. “Oh, thank you!”

“Er,” the elderly man said, patting her back awkwardly. “Happy to help, ma’am. You um...you’re okay?” Marinette straightened to see the man was looking over her shoulder at Luka suspiciously.

“Oh, yes, Luka’s a perfect gentleman,” Marinette said, beaming back at her new friend. He blushed. She looked back at the maintenance tech and giggled. “Maybe a little shy, though.”

The tech chuckled, relaxing, and shook Luka’s hand amiably when Luka stepped forward to thank him for getting them out.

Luka and Marinette drifted towards the lobby doors slowly, both clearly trying to think of something to say.

“You know, I can still make it to practice before it ends,” Luka said, checking the time. “I was heading out early to work on some stuff, so the others will just be warming up now. Would you—I mean,” he shuffled his feet a little, “I’d love it if you could come with me. You could meet the rest of the band and show them your ideas. I’m still not sure we could afford you, but maybe we could work something out. I can’t imagine Ivan’s terribly attached to his kidney.”

Marinette giggled. “Well,” she sighed, checking the time herself. “My girls’ dinner is definitely cancelled, and I honestly have zero desire to get back in that elevator right now—or climb up eight floors in these,” she added, lifting one small foot and putting it back down with a click. “So...sure, why not?”

“We can grab something to eat after,” Luka suggested. “Or on the way,” he amended with a grin when Marinette’s stomach growled. Marinette moaned and put her hand over her face, but then she peeked at him between her fingers and giggled. Honestly, it was kind of hard to be embarrassed in front of him after they’d been camped out on an elevator floor for two hours. He’d tried so hard to make sure she was comfortable, he’d been interested in her work, he had thoughtful and insightful things to say, and his music was amazing…and there was still so much she didn’t know about him, like the nautical tattoos or what his plans were for his music...

Her breath caught when she saw he was giving her that look again, like...like he really thought she was the greatest thing to ever walk the earth.

It was...really nice to be looked at like that, she was finding. She could get used to it.

“Dinner sounds good,” she said, probably a little later and definitely a little squeakier than she should have, and his smile made her knees weak.

They ended up grabbing crepes from a street vender just to take the edge off, because neither of them wanted Luka to be any later to practice than necessary. Eating quickly on the way to the metro, Marinette promptly tripped over an uneven place in the sidewalk, pitching forward with a gasp. Luka caught her arm and steadied her, and then offered his. Marinette slipped her hand through his elbow and they shared a smile.

Don’t get ahead of yourself, Marinette, she told herself, trying to calm the flutters in her stomach with a deep breath. It didn’t matter; another soft look from him as they got on the train was enough to undo all her efforts.

His practice space was only a short ride away, in a club that was only open on weekends. Luka explained that Rose knew the owner and he let them rent the space for weekday practices as long as they cleaned up after themselves.

She hesitated at the door and Luka looked at her. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she tried to say brightly. “I’m fine, it’ll be fine.”

Luka turned away from the door to face her. “Why are you nervous?”

“It’s nothing,” Marinette said, embarrassed. “It’s just, I’m…” she gestured vaguely at herself. Luks just raised his eyebrows. “Boring,” she finished, shuffling awkwardly. “Compared to a metal band, I—I’m just not—“

She frowned when Luka turned away from her and covered his mouth, and Marinette blinked for a moment before she realized he was laughing at her. He cleared his throat and turned back to the door, pulling it open for her and gesturing her through. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” he said, not quite able to keep a straight face as he said it.

Marinette pursed her lips and went inside, trying not to pout.

“Hey guys,” Luka said, in answer to the chorus greeting him from the stage. He set his guitar case on a table and opened it. “Sorry I got held up. This is Marinette.” He offered his hand to Marinette and led her forward into the light from the stage. “Marinette, this is Rose—“

“Hi Marinette! Nice to meet you!”

“Ivan—“

“Hey.”

“And my sister, Juleka.”

Juleka smiled and gave a little wave.

“Just have a seat anywhere you’re comfortable,” Luka smiled at her. “We’ll try to keep you entertained.” He gave her a wink and a grin and then headed for the stage.

Juleka punched him lightly in the arm as he passed her, and he looked at her, and they seemed to have some kind of conversation without words. Luka snorted softly and shook his head, the lights on the stage clearly illuminating his blush, and Juleka smirked.

Luka got into place and got his guitar settled and plugged in. It was hard to describe the way he changed as he mounted the stage. Even with the guitar strap over his shoulder, the slouch was gone, as was the perpetually sleepy look in his eyes. Then he looked up at her and gave her a grin that made her insides feel like jelly, made only worse when his quiet but strong voice said, “Let’s do this.”

They were so much fun to watch, Marinette thought. They all had such distinct personalities, and they clearly loved what they were playing. Juleka moved with a fluid elegance that was entrancing to watch, while Rose was bursting with energy. Ivan looked big and slow but his drumsticks kept perfect time, and Marinette adjusted her mental image to a charging bull rather than a plodding steer.

And Luka was—well she couldn’t look too long at Luka. His stage smirk, as she began to think of it, scattered her thoughts completely every time their eyes met. He was contained, poised like his sister, but all the little tricks she now realized he used to tone down his natural intensity were gone. His presence on stage was powerful and she found it...extremely appealing. To put it mildly.

Sexy, Alya’s voice giggled in her mental ear, but Marinette crossed her legs primly and got out her sketchbook. She began making adjustments and additions to her designs, focusing on the other band members since she didn’t know them. She pondered each one of them thoughtfully, and by the time they came down off stage, she had several more pages filled with ideas.

Luka gathered the band around the table and asked Marinette to show them what she’d been working on. It wasn’t exactly the sort of pre-planned client presentation she was used to, but she did her best. Her nervousness quickly faded in the face of their enthusiasm. Her eyes flickered to Luka, who just smiled, not quite looking at her. “Told you,” he murmured. Marinette kind of wanted to pinch him.

“Don’t worry about it for now,” Marinette waved dismissively when the subject of payment came up. “As long as we can cover materials up front, I can cut you a deal on the commission price. We can work out a payment schedule or whatever. I have to be able to take a passion project now and then or I’ll go crazy.” Her eyes might have flickered shyly towards Luka when she said it. He hadn’t said much, but Marinette was aware the entire time of Luka’s eyes on her. Juleka was clearly aware of it too, and looked highly amused by the situation. Marinette blushed and Luka sighed whenever one or the other caught Juleka smirking at them.

“Might want to turn down the smoulder, bro,” Juleka leaned in and murmured to him at one point, just barely audible to Marinette. “You’re looking at her like she’s a new guitar you can’t wait to play.”

“Jules, I love you, but I swear on Mom’s guitar I will murder you right here if you don’t shut the hell up,” he muttered back.

Rose leaned in and loudly asked a long-winded question, kindly giving Marinette a chance to recover from her unintentional eavesdropping.

“We’re heading out,” Luka announced finally, standing up and offering Marinette his hand. “We haven’t eaten and I think I owe Marinette dinner at the least for all of this.”

“Sure,” Juleka murmured, her voice even softer than her brother’s and laced with amusement. “That’s totally the reason.”

“Well,” Luka said, looking down into Marinette’s face, “Maybe not the only reason.” Marinette blushed as Ivan oohed and Rose put two fingers in her mouth and whistled at them. Luka chuckled. “Bye guys.”

“Don’t screw it up,” Juleka said as he bent and kissed the top of her head. “I can’t take you moping for weeks.”

“You two have a good tiiiiime,” Rose sing-songed as she waved goodbye. “Don’t stay out too late!” She whisper shouted, “Text us and let us know if you kiss!” She squealed and grabbed Juleka’s arm. “He likes her so much, it’s so cute!”

Ivan gave them two thumbs up. “Good luck, dude!”

Luka waved them off with a good-natured “Whatever,” and put his hand against Marinette’s lower back, guiding her to the door.

“Sorry about them,” he said, with a one-shouldered shrug that said, what can you do?

Marinette giggled. “They like giving you a hard time, don’t they?”

“Well,” he sighed as he opened the door. “I can’t be too mad about it. It’s not like they’re wrong.” He grinned as he motioned for her to go ahead of him.

Marinette did, her head held high, though she was biting her lip to contain her smile. Despite her embarrassment, she was enjoying the attention he paid her.

They found a restaurant and grabbed a table near the back. She finally asked about his tattoos as they ate and Luka moved to the chair next to her, slipping off his hoodie and coat and even lifting the sleeve of his t-shirt so she could see better as he talked about them. He told her about growing up on a houseboat with his mother and the trips they would take together while she not-so-subtly admired the arm he was not-so-subtly flexing. She told him about her family and what it was like growing up with her parents trying to run the business.

“You were amazing on stage,” Marinette said eventually, and Luka, who had finished eating and was leaning on the table, darted that stage smirk at her. “Yes,” she exclaimed, pointing in his face and circling her finger to include all of it. “That. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Maybe,” Luka chuckled, with a wink that was far more devastating than it had been a few hours ago. “Every performer has to know how to work a crowd.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose at him teasingly. “Well there’s no crowd here, so turn it off, it’s distracting.”

“The size of the audience doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, absolutely not turning it off. “Just getting the effect that you want. Am I affecting you, Marinette?”

She hadn’t expected such a bold flirt, and it showed in her suddenly red face. Luka chuckled. “That looks a bit like a yes, Marinette.” Then he added, getting a bit pink himself, “You definitely affect me.”

“Who are you?” Marinette asked, narrowing her eyed at him, half playful and half serious. “The sexy rocker or the sweet boy who loaned me his hoodie on the elevator?”

Luka looked away for a moment, laughing through his nose, and then looked back at her. “Who are you?” he challenged. “The cute stammering girl wearing shoes she can’t walk in—“ He grinned as Marinette gasped in outrage, “Or the classy business lady selling a new client on her ideas like she’s been doing it since the day she was born?”

Marinette giggled, covering her face. “Okay, fair.”

They both needed a moment to breathe after that. Marinette busied herself with her food and Luka ordered a cup of peppermint tea.

“You know,” Marinette said, blushing as she picked at her fries. “This is starting to feel an awful lot like a date.”

Luka chuckled. “I don’t know about you but this is the best blind date I’ve ever been on, even taking into account the two hours stuck in the elevator.” He smiled at her. “But sometimes good things happen even when we’re not expecting them, and sometimes things that shouldn’t make sense just do. I’ve never met anyone like you, Marinette. And I’d be happy to consider this our first date if it means I can take you out on another one.”

Marinette froze for an instant, staring at him with her drink in one hand and the straw pinched between two fingers of the other. Was this really the guy who never spoke and stared at the floor every time they rode the elevator?

He wasn’t staring at the floor now. He was staring right at her, and Juleka was right, he was intense. But...Marinette hadn’t been lying before. She liked it. She liked it a lot, actually. No one had ever looked at her like that before, like in that moment nobody else existed but her.

Smiling, she said, “I think we can work something out,” and watched him watch her slide the straw between her lips.

They lingered a little longer than necessary over the meal, with Luka sipping his tea while Marinette ordered a hot chocolate piled with whipped cream. Luka laughed at her when she got some on her nose and her eyes crossed trying to look at it. Marinette gave him the cold shoulder for five whole minutes, until he actually began to look worried that he’d really offended her. Then she winked at him over the rim of the cup with its much diminished pile of whipped cream, and the soft look came back.

It was getting late, though, so they gathered their things and headed to the metro. They didn’t bother to sit, as they were only going a few stops, and stood together holding onto one of the poles and talking quietly. Eventually Marinette noticed some passengers looking in their direction, and she tugged on Luka’s sleeve. He bent down slightly.

“Do I look okay?” Marinette whispered to him. “I feel like people are staring. Did I spill something on myself?”

“You’re fine,” Luka chuckled. “I think it’s because they’re not used to seeing a sweet lady like you with a punk rock guy like me. Probably thinking you belong with someone like him.” He straightened and nodded at an advertisement on the subway wall, where a very familiar blonde man dressed in a business suit was looking over his shoulder at the camera.

Marinette began to laugh, and Luka raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to explain. “I actually know him and he’s engaged,” Marinette giggled. “He’s marrying a friend of mine. I’m supposed to be a bridesmaid in their wedding next year. And believe me, people who don’t know better would say they don’t match at all either.” Marinette sighed as the laughter faded, though her smile remained. “Well,” she said, sliding her hand down his arm to slot her fingers between his and leaning into his side as she turned her nose up at the gapers, “The other girls like me don’t know what they’re missing.”

Luka gave her the soft look, and maybe it wasn’t as sexy as the stage smirk but it was awfully cute and a lot less intimidating. His fingers closed tightly around hers and he leaned into her too. “All the guys like me wish they could be so lucky.”

They held hands all the way back to the apartment building.

“Well,” Luka said with some amusement as they approached the elevator doors. “Here we are. Do we take the chance or use the stairs?”

Marinette sighed, shifting on her already tired feet. “I suppose...it didn’t end too badly last time, right?” She smiled up at him. “I can think of worse things than being stuck in an elevator with you.”

“So can I,” Luka chuckled. “And several of them involve plunging to the bottom of the elevator shaft instead of just jolting to a halt and having to catch a pretty girl.”

“So...you’d rather take the stairs?” Marinette asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Luka sighed heavily, and then his gaze flickered to her shoes and he squeezed her hand. “No. We’re just going to have to have faith that the universe didn’t set us up on the most bizarre blind date ever just to let us die at the end of it.” He grinned, and Marinette giggled.

The elevator doors opened (not to the same elevator, and Marinette wasn’t sure whether an elevator that presumably hadn’t been stuck today was better or worse than the one that had been stuck but that they knew for a fact maintenance had recently serviced). She and Luka shared a look, and then stepped onto the elevator together, hands still clasped tightly.

“Is it okay if I walk you to your floor?” Luka asked, his hand hovering over the panel.

Marinette nodded. “I’m on eight.”

Luka pushed the button, and they both let out a breath as the elevator began to move. Marinette was more anxious than she had expected, and found herself pressing against Luka’s side. Luka let go of her hand and put his arm around her waist, squeezing lightly. His other hand gripped the elevator rail tightly.

Despite their nervousness, the elevator ascended smoothly to the eighth floor. They both breathed a sigh of relief and laughed at themselves as they got off the elevator.

“Whew,” Luka said, taking her hand again and pulling her off to the side. “We made it.” He ducked out of the strap of his guitar case and set it against the wall.

“We did,” Marinette giggled, as he caught her other hand, so that both of hers now rested in his.

“Well, it wasn’t the most conventional first date,” Luka admitted, tugging lightly to bring her close. “But...I’m really glad I met you, Marinette. And I’d really like to take you on a second date sometime soon. Maybe one involving less time spent in elevators and more comfortable shoes.”

“Hey!” Marinette pouted as he laughed, tightening his grip when she pretended to pull away, drawing her even nearer.

“I know technically we just met,” Luka said, smiling down at her, “And I’m not trying to pressure you, but...I’ve been dying to kiss you for hours now. Can I?”

Marinette only hesitated a moment before nodding, because the truth was she’d been wanting him to kiss her since he’d stepped on the stage.

Luka held her eyes as he leaned in until they got close, only closing them a breath before he pressed his mouth to hers, slow and soft and so warm. He let go of her hands and brought his own to cup her face, and then slid them back into her hair to tilt her back as the kiss deepened. He tasted like peppermint tea and some giddy part of her brain wondered if he’d drunk it on purpose because he’d already been planning to kiss the hell out of her. She slid her hands up over his shoulders to wind her arms around his neck and pressed into him, and he moaned softly into the kiss.

She had an epiphany right about then, but it wasn’t about the mint tea or how he was a great kisser. It was a bunch of little things that came together for her in a sudden flash of intuition, confirmed and affirmed in the way he kissed her like he needed her more than air, the way his eyes stayed closed for a moment when they parted, the stars in those eyes when he opened them and looked at her, his thumbs brushing along her jaw as he leaned back in for just one more, light and soft and reverent, before dropping his hands to her waist and resting his forehead against hers. He was soft and sentimental, an artist and a believer in the romance of taking chances when they come along. He was gentle and kind and considerate, he saw people, he felt deeply and passionately and he believed that love didn’t always have to make sense.

He was someone like her.

She was sure there were stars in her own eyes as she looked back at him.

Someone behind her cleared her throat and Marinette jumped, turning quickly. “Mrs. Allium!” she gasped at the sight of the purple-haired lady currently waiting for the elevator. “I mean—”

“Good evening, Mrs. Allen,” Luka cut in smoothly from behind her. “Is your grandson feeling better?”

Mrs. Allen beamed at him. “He is, thank you for asking, my dear. How is your mother?”

“She’s well,” Luka smiled. “I saw her a couple of days ago and she’s doing great. Planning another trip in the spring.”

“That’s good. And it’s good to see you finally made your move, my boy,” Mrs. Allen winked and nodded significantly at Marinette, who was looking back and forth between them with her mouth half-open. “I told you a girl like that wouldn’t stay single forever.”

Luka blushed—not the faint tint of color she had seen on him up until now, but a true, deep blush. “Yes, ma’am. Well, it was sort of—ah...” He shuffled his feet and his shoulders hunched slightly, and Mrs. Allen laughed.

“Mm-hmm, I saw what it was,” she said loftily, winking at Marinette, whose face rapidly darkened to match Luka’s. “No need to be embarrassed with me, but if I were you I’d take it behind closed doors before that nosy biddy in 804B pokes her beak out of the door, or it’ll be all over the building by morning. Good night, dears!”

“Good night, ma’am,” Luka said, and Marinette managed an inarticulate noise and a wave. When Mrs. Allen was gone, she looked up at Luka questioningly.

“What?” he shrugged. “You’re not the only one I run into in the elevator.” He reached for her hand, hesitantly this time. “You’re just the only one I never got the courage to talk to. I mean, a girl like you...with that smile and those eyes…” Luka hooked one finger under her chin to tilt her face up. “I didn’t have a chance. I just couldn’t look at you and put more than three words together at a time. Which Mrs. Allen noticed immediately, by the way, the one time all three of us were in the elevator together.” He moved his hand to slide that stubborn lock of hair behind her ear one more time. “I got quite an earful on it the next time I rode with just her.”

Marinette giggled. “And what did you say?”

“I said, a girl like that wouldn’t want to be seen with a guy like me,” Luka replied, and then grinned. “And then she whacked me in the gut with her purse and told me I was being an idiot.” He chuckled. “I guess she was right.”

Marinette just shook her head and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him down so that she could kiss him full on the mouth. He melted into her with a noise she fully intended to tease him about later as his arms wrapped around her automatically. “I think,” Marinette murmured against his lips, “If we’ve learned anything tonight, it’s that we’re not as different as we thought.” Instead of answering, he kissed her again.

They heard a gasp and the slam of a nearby door, and Luka chuckled. “There goes the gossip chain,” he smiled ruefully. “What did Mrs. Allen say? All over the building by morning?”

“Good,” Marinette sniffed, and kissed him again.

#quickspins #i'll never not know you #10115 words #for the record #hope it lives up to expectations #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #ml fics #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #meet-cute

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Riding High Ch 11: Thankful for Chicken Nuggets

Chapter Summary: It’s Thanksgiving and Mary’s eating chicken nuggets.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah yeah I know it’s the wrong time of year but hell, we’re all on lock down so the days and months don’t actually exist anyway at the moment…

The Boat Company used here IS an actual company in South Pas, but I got no idea who runs it so this is completely made up- roll with me here.

As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

“Good morning hot shot!” Fliss smiled as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued to fork up the bedding in the stable.

“Morning sweetheart.” he said softly

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Back at ya.” he chuckled softly “You at the yard?” “Yeah, been here a few hours now.” she said.

“Do you need a hand with anything or…” “That’s really sweet but there’s not much left to do.” she said, honestly “They’re all out for the day and are staying there until tomorrow morning so I’ve just a couple of stables and then some paper work to sort out before I pop back this evening to do a check…” “Ok so…” he said, “Once you’re done for the morning you’re free for a while?” “Yeah, why?”

“Mary had an idea…” “I did not!” Fliss heard the 7 year old scoff “It was your…” “Ok, WE had an idea…” Frank said, and there was some scuffling and Fliss could imagine he was holding Mary at arm’s length as she made a grab for the phone “That maybe you might wanna come join us for dinner if you have time.”

“You mean your Thanksgiving dinner of chicken nuggets?” Fliss grinned “How could I turn that down?”

“Ok, well, just head over when you’re done…” “I might need to head home and shower.” she said, looking down “I’m filthy and probably don’t smell great either to be honest.” “You can change here, I mean...”

Fliss paused, she had a spare change of clothes in her car. Well, a pair of sweats and a different polo shirt. She normally kept them there just in case of a downpour.

“Erm, ok, if you don’t mind…” “No of course not.”

“Alright, then, I’ll see you in about 2 hours or so?” Fliss smiled.

“Great.” Frank replied “See you soon.” ******

Fliss didn’t bother knocking. She opened the door and was immediately barrelled into by a flurry of blonde hair.

“Hey!” she chuckled, dropping her bag “Wanna let me get inside first Stack?”

Mary stepped back and Fliss straightened up and smiled as Frank walked into the kitchen.

He beautiful.” he smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips. Mary sidled off into the main room, a smirk on her face.

“I stink.” Fliss warned “I mucked out 12 stables today…”

“Yeah, you’ve smelt better!” Frank laughed as she snorted. “You know where the bathroom is. Fresh towels in there. You need anything out of this or…” he gestured to her bag, as he went to pick it up.

“It’s just my clothes so…”

“I’ll put it in my room.” he smiled, giving her another kiss. “I would offer to come scrub your back but…” he inclined his head to the main room and Fliss gave a snort.

“Calm down Sailor” she teased “Plenty of time for that later.”

“Promises, promises.” he grinned, picking her bag up and heading through to his room. He dropped her bag onto his bed, glancing round. He’d attempted to tidy a little bit after the realisation she’d actually never been in his room before. After their night together the previous week they hadn’t managed another night alone, Fliss being a little ‘uncomfortable’ at being together like that when Mary was literally outside the door and to be honest, it wasn’t something Frank was particularly happy about either. It had never bothered him before, because Mary was never there when he brought a girl home but this was different. That said, he knew he was going to have to find somewhere bigger soon, Greg had warned him it would likely be a condition of him being awarded Guardianship. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning him a bit, living pay-check to pay-check didn’t leave him a huge housing budge but he’d work something out, he always did..

Pushing the worry from his mind, he closed the bedroom door and headed back into the room. Mary was sat on the rug looking at the instructions to the new lego kit he had bought her for Thanksgiving.

“Sussed it out yet Stack?” he asked and she gave him a withering look. He bit back the laugh that was bubbling in his throat and sat next to her, taking from her, trying to figure the instructions out to make the Storm Trooper helmet, Star Wars being her latest obsession.

“That’s upside down…” she rolled her eyes, taking it from him to turn it the right way up.

“My bad.” he shrugged, looking at it again. “Ok, so…this piece…and we need one of these…” Together they began to pull together the elements they needed for the first section and the next time Frank looked up was when Fliss walked into the living area, a little shyly, wrapped in a towel. Her long, auburn hair was piled up on top of her head and her shoulders were speckled with water. She smiled as she padded past to his bedroom, Mary not even looking up as Frank watched her with his eyes as she closed the door behind her, giving him another smile. There was something so simple, so domestic about the situation, Frank couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest.

Roberta was right, he definitely had it bad.

“When we gonna give Fliss her present?” Mary asked, looking up at Frank.

“After dinner.” he said “Which reminds me, best turn the oven on.”

“Would be a start.” Mary agreed.

Frank rolled his eyes and stood up, heading into the kitchen. Shoving the stuff in the oven, he returned and found Fliss was now sat with Mary who was showing her the instructions.

“I LOVE Star Wars.” Fliss grinned, “So does Bill…he has Cinema Room in the house upstairs and poster from every single Star Wars film on the wall. I’ll show you later tonight.” “A Cinema Room?” Mary asked “Like, with a huge screen?” “Yeah. It’s pretty cool. When I finally get round to buying a house I’m gonna build one too.” “Do you think I could watch something in there tonight?”

“Mary…” Frank started to warn her but Fliss smiled.

“Frank it’s ok.” she said “And yeah, course you can. If you have a favourite DVD we can take that or you can pick. We have loads on the hard-drive and Sky...”

It wasn’t long before they were sat round the small kitchen table which had been pulled into the living room to allow them more room. Frank and Mary both showed Fliss their favourite thing to eat in the world- Chicken Nugget Sandwiches. After a sceptical look, Fliss leaned over to take a bit of Frank’s as he offered it and gave a small laugh announcing that it was actually pretty good. After a large slice of Chocolate cake each that had been made for them by Roberta they collapse onto the sofa, Mary once more on the rug, Fliss groaning about the “food baby” she was growing, rubbing her hand over her stomach.

“Hey Frank…” Mary looked at him. “Is it time now?”

It took Frank a moment and then he realised what Mary was talking about “Oh, yeah, hang on…”

He hopped off the sofa and headed into his bedroom, pulling the small gift bag from his dresser. He walked back into the living room and sat back down, shyly handing it to her.

“This…you got me a gift?” Fliss’ eyes went wide.

“Yeah.” Frank shrugged.

“You really shouldn’t have…” Fliss looked at him “I didn’t get you two anything…” “That’s not the point of giving a gift.” Mary looked at her sternly. “You don’t give to receive, right Frank?”

“Frank…” she looked at him, before she opened the box and looked at the contents. She blinked before her hand gently covered her mouth as she looked down at the silver charm bracelet that was inside.

“I thought it was time you started a new one, for new memories.” he said gently as she reached into the box and gently took out the bracelet which held a single charm in the shape of a boat.

Fliss swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I…” she took a deep breath and Frank frowned as he saw her struggling for composure.

“Hey…” he said, turning sideways on the sofa. His hand gently rubbed up her arm and she fell into him, pressing her face to his chest as he wrapped his arms round her.

“You made Fliss cry…on Thanksgiving.” Mary deadpanned, throwing a ping pong ball for Fred.

“Why don’t you go do that outside?” Frank asked. “Stay on the step.” Mary shrugged and stood up, doing as she was told.

“You ok?” he asked Fliss softly as his hands rubbed at her back. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she nodded taking a deep breath.

“Sorry, that was…” she sat back, wiping her eyes “Absolutely fucking ridiculous…”

“You do like it right?” he asked, feeling a little nervous.

“Baby, I love it.” she smiled at him, and he felt his chest swell not only at the fact she liked the gift, but that was the first time she’d used that particular pet name…and he kinda liked it. “I just…well, I can’t believe you remembered about my bracelets.”

He shrugged as she reached out to gently cup his cheek.

“Thank you.” she said softly, leaning over to kiss him. He happily leaned into the kiss, his tongue snaking into her mouth, sliding against hers as she met him movement for movement before there was a light cough and Frank groaned, resting his forehead against Fliss’ as he turned to look at Mary.

“What?”

“Wanna go outside?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded. He stood up and held out his hand, pulling her up with him and they headed out after Mary.

“Shouldn’t you be with mum getting stuff ready for the party?” Fliss frowned at her dad, surprised to see him.

“Are you joking!” Bill scoffed “You know what she’s like…” he coughed and then put on a light, airey voice “Bill, those champagne flutes are grouped in 3s,not 4s…no, those plates don’t go there, they go there…what are you doing with that cheeseboard, the grapes go in the middle…”

Frank felt his eyebrow raise slightly as Fliss laughed. Champagne, cheeseboards? This was not the type of party he was used to, at all.

“Oh don’t worry…” Fliss said, clocking his face “It descends into debauchery and chaos after about an hour…mum just likes to play the part of hostess with the mostess…”

“I like cheese.” Mary piped up.

“Good, we got plenty of it.” Bill said. “But, anyway, I dropped by for a reason. I picked something up earlier this afternoon that I think you might like.”

“Me?” Fliss frowned, but before she could say anything else Frank’s attention was taken by a man who was walking down the side of the barn. He was tall, slightly taller than Frank, quite stocky and had a shock of dark brown hair and looked ridiculously like Bill. Fliss gave a little shriek and ran towards the man, throwing herself into his arms as he laughed, twirling her round slightly before he dropped her to the floor.

“That’s her brother.” Mary supplied and Frank gave her a look.

“Yeah I kinda figured that.” he rolled his eyes. “How do you know anyway?”

“Saw a photo of him.” Mary shrugged.

Frank turned his attention back to the two siblings and Fliss was now looking better her father and her brother, confusion on her face. “What…I mean, how…”

“In New York for a stag do on Saturday.” he replied “Thought I’d take the chance and pop down here for a day or so…”

“Does Mum know you’re here?” she asked.

“Yeah, she does now.” he laughed “There were a few tears this morning.” “Frank made Fliss cry before.” Mary said, and all attention turned to Frank who hung his head and let out an audibly groan.

“Seriously?” he looked at her as Fliss burst out laughing.

“Frankie, this is my brother Steve…” she smiled, as Steve stepped forward, holding his hand out. “Or Steeb, Steeby…whatever you want to call him.” “Nice to meet you.” Frank smiled as Steve shook his hand, his grip firm.

“Likewise.” Steve smiled “Heard a lot about you.” he then turned to his left and looked down “And you must be Mary.” “Yup,” she smiled, looking at him “Did you bring your kids?”

“Mary…” Frank said, looking at her and shaking his head.

“What?” She asked, “I was just asking a question…I wanted to meet them.” “No, not this time.” Steve smiled “Just a flying visit. But they’re coming over for Christmas so I’ve no doubt you’ll get to see them then.” he straightened up and smiled at Fliss “Where’s that grumpy ginger Nag?” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Don’t you talk about Heidi like that. She’s in the top field.”

“I thought he was talking about V…” Bill mumbled to Frank who gave a snort, and then looked at the man, the pair of them bursting into laughter. By the time they had composed themselves Steve and Fliss were stood, watching the pair of them, hands on their hips in almost identical poses.

“They do this all the time.” Fliss said, shaking her head “Come on, I’ll take you to see H. I was on my way up to check them all anyway. You coming Stack?” she looked at Mary. Mary grinned and ran forward, linking her hand into Fliss’. Frank didn’t see the eyebrow raised on Steve’s face, before the man smiled softly, dropping an arm round Fliss’ shoulder and pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

*****

Fliss changed quickly when they were home into a pair of jeans, a strappy top and a pair of sandals before the three of them walked over to the house after another near argument about getting Mary to leave the bucket of lego she had brought with her in the annex which Fliss managed to avoid with the mention of the Cinema Room.

Well, they weren’t really parties, more like a gathering which rich snobs used to brag to other rich snobs about how much money they had.

“And this is Mike, Martin and Keith.” Bill said, nodding to the final three men, one of whom was giving Fliss a hug.

“You look great!” she beamed at him “How much weight have you lost now?” “40lb…” the man called Keith nodded and Fliss grinned.

“That’s awesome.”

“All down to the golf.” he smiled, gesturing to Mike, Martin and Bill “These guys drag me up there regularly enough.” “Frank hates golf.” Mary said “Says it ruins a good walk.”

There was a pause as Frank groaned, wanting the ground to open and swallow him. He glared at Mary who looked at him, frowning.

“What?” she asked as Bill suddenly began to roar with laughter, the other men joining in.

Frank shook his head and looked round “It’s just not my thing…”he said, by means of an explanation “I prefer playing basket ball or baseball…”

“Each to their own.” the man called Martin beamed. “To be honest when I was your age I hated it too. Was far more into drinking and women.” “Frank likes that too.” Mary said, and Frank then really did give her a look.

“Shut up.” he said, but of course she didn’t as the men continued to laugh.

“Miss Stevenson?” Bill asked.

“We don’t need to hear about that…” Frank said, his neck growing hot.

“She’s my teacher.” Mary nodded “She stayed at our house one night. I wasn’t supposed to be there but I saw her coming out of the bathroom wearing Frank’s sheets and…” “Ok, Mary..why don’t we go and see the Cinema Room…” Fliss hastily cut her off as the 3 men were now all howling with laughter.

“Oh, okay.” she shrugged, before she pondered something “Why was she in your sheets Frank, and not in a towel like Lissy was before?”

At that Bill arched an eyebrow and Fliss felt her cheeks grow warm “I had a shower, I’d mucked 12 stabled out.”

There was a pause before she recovered and steered Mary out of the room.

Frank grimaced and looked back round as Bill patted him on the shoulder, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes. “I bloody love that kid.”

“She’s yours if you want her.” Frank said “I could gift-wrap her for you. Just say goodbye to your private life being private.”

Thankfully the Cinema Room kept Mary out of the way, especially when she had a stash of popcorn, sweets and soda to keep her occupied. For the next few hours Frank stuck mostly by Fliss’ side, talking to people, chatting to her brother a bit about his job and the business he had taken over from Bill, his kids…but Frank got the impression the man was being a little guarded with him. He was polite enough, and wasn’t being rude but he wasn’t overly warm either. But he supposed that was understandable. She was Fliss’ big brother after all.

“Sorry.” he apologised to the man who smiled at him as he held the fridge door open.

“There’s someone who just arrived that I want you to meet.” Bill said, gesturing for Frank to follow him. With a slight puzzled frown, did as he was told and wandered through to the large lounge where a number of people were congregated.

“Frank, this is Alan Maxwell.” he introduced a short, stocky white haired man who was wearing a pair of modern thin-rimmed glasses and a cream blazer over a dark polo necked shirt and dark jeans. Frank took him in, noting his outfit probably cost more than Frank’s entire wardrobe.

“Hi.” Frank said, shaking his hand “Frank Adler”

“The boat mechanic?” Alan asked.

“Yeah…” Frank looked at him then to Bill.

“Alan’s in the Repair and Retail business.” Bill offered.

“I own MarineMax in St Pete’s” Alan smiled.

“Oh on Gulfport?” Frank looked at him and Paul nodded.

“You know it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Frank scratch at the back of his neck “I errr, I applied for a job there about 6 years back. But I didn’t have the relevant experience so…” Alan looked at Frank for a moment, “How long you been a mechanic now?”

“Over 6 and a half years.” Frank said.

“And you’re freelancing?” Frank nodded.

“Good success rate?”

“Over 98%.” Frank said “I mean, I only do one boat at a time because I’ve been juggling my hours around Mary for the last 7 years but…” he shrugged “I have regulars who come back so I must be doing something right.” “Could you get references?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “Pretty sure I could.”

“Hmmmm.” Alan nodded, looking at Bill who inclined his head towards Frank with a smile.

“I told you, I’ll vouch for him.” he shrugged “He’s sleeping with my daughter after all.”

“Jesus Bill…” Frank groaned as the two men laughed.

“It’s a compliment” Bill smiled “If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t let you within 3 foot of her”

“Thanks…I think.” Frank looked at him taking a drink of his beer.

“Come see me next week” Alan looked at Frank, pulling a card from his wallet and handing it over “I may have a position you’d be interested in.”

“I errr…” Frank was temporarily sideswiped by the suggestion “I…that would be…”

“I will.” Frank nodded. “Thank you.”

“Hey…” Frank spotted Fliss’ brother leaning on the railing, lit cigarette in one hand, beer in the other. “You seen Lissy?”

“She was in the living room last time I saw her.” Steve said chuckling slightly, shaking his head.

Frank frowned at the man’s demeanour and Steve noticed, and smiled. “Sorry, just seems strange. Hearing someone else call her Liss or Lissy other than the family.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda picked it up from Bill and it stuck.” Frank smiled.

“Yeah she doesn’t suit Felicity.” Steve shook his head “Although that’s all he ever fucking called her. Apparently her nicknames were too common.” “Yeah well, he’s a dick.” Frank shrugged

“No arguments here.” Steve said, looking at Frank. Frank watched as the man studied him for a second, clearly thinking about something before he returned to leaning on the rail of the decking, looking down over the huge garden area as he took a final drag from the cigarette, before stubbing it out in the fire bucket to his right.

“Ok…” Frank stepped outside. “Let’s have it.” “Have what?” Steve asked, looking at him.

“The big brother lecture. The one where you threaten to rip my head off if I hurt your sister.” Frank said as Steve gave a huff of a laugh.

“Well, rest assured I will.” Steve looked at Frank as he too leaned on the railings. “But Dad says you’re a good bloke so…that’ll do for me.” Frank nodded and took a pull of his beer “I have no intention of hurting her, in anyway.” he said, his voice loaded with meaning and Steve sighed.

“I know.” he said gently “I just…well, I worry.” “Understandable.” Frank nodded, and it was. He got it, he really did.

“I hated that fucker.” Steve said, shaking his head “right from the start. Smarmy assed, stuck up Yank…oh, sorry, no offence.” Frank laughed “Non-taken.” he waved Steve’s apology away.

“I know she’s only actually my step-sister but well she was only 2 when I met her and…”

“Blood doesn’t make you family.” Frank nodded “If you ever meet my mother you’ll realise that.” “Yeah, Fliss wasn’t very complementary of her.” Steve snorted.

“She called her a cold hearted bitch to her face.” Frank raised an eyebrow as Steve laughed.

“I shouldn’t be pleased at that…” Steve said, smiling “But not long ago she wouldn’t have been brave enough to be that outgoing…” “Oh she certainly isn’t backwards in coming forwards…” Frank shook his head

“Something he managed to suck out of her.” Steve sighed.

“You know, I’d love to get that fucker alone in a room” Frank glowered. “5 minutes, that’s all I’d need.” “Get in line.” Steve said, “Behind me and dad.” “Yeah, Fliss said something about there being a queue.”

“The day she said she was moving to Boston to be with him full time, it was the worst day of my life. And Mum and Dad’s” Steve said, taking another drink. “But we knew if we tried to stop her it would give him the perfect excuse to turn her against us. So what could we do but support it.” He hung his head slightly and Frank’s brow furrowed at the man’s open display of vulnerability

“I wish we’d done more, you know, anything…but we didn’t know how bad things had got. Not that he was hurting her, not like that.” “None of it was your fault.” Frank looked at him. “Or your parent’s. Or Fliss’”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at him. “You ready for all that? Because I guarantee what she’s told you, well it won’t even scratch the surface Frank.”

“Are you asking me if I’m gonna bail when the going gets tough?”

“Suppose I am, yeah.” Steve looked at him.

“Look, Steve, I know she hasn’t told me everything. And I’m not gonna push her to either. It isn’t important to me to know every sordid little detail of what that cunt did to her. What is important is that she’s happy with me, and that she feels safe and knows that I’d never hurt her like that and I sure as hell won’t abandon her when the road gets a little bumpy. She was there for me through a very bad time recently and, well…” Frank shrugged “Even if we decide that what we have isn’t working I’d still be by her side.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something else but they were interrupted.

“My ears burning?” Fliss asked, eyeing the two men up.

“I was just…making sure his intentions are honourable.” Fliss rolled her eyes with a snort “his intentions are honourable? What are you, like 90?”

Steve shrugged “No, but I’m 3 years older than you and still your big brother Titch…” “Whatever, Steeby.” she moved over to where Frank was stood and slid under his arm “Quit with the 3rd degree or I’ll tell Mum you’ve been smoking.”

Frank laughed “her bark is worse than her bite…owww!” he said, as she nipped his arm.

“Sure it is.” Steve winked as h pushed himself off the railing and headed inside.

“Was he being an ass hole?” Fliss watched him go before she turned to Frank and he chuckled, pulling her closer.

“No,not at all.” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips “Where’s Mary?”

“With Dad in the living room with the guys from the golf club.” she said, shrugging.

“No doubt revealing more of my dark secrets.” Frank groaned.

Fliss laughed “Nah, she’s got her lego. Bill and her will have some kind of building contest going on no doubt.”

“I told her to leave those in the annex.” “She did. I took her to get them.” Fliss shrugged

“Seriously?” Frank looked at her, rolling his eyes.

“What?” Fliss looked at him “She was bored and wanted something to do.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” he said, his arms circling her and she grinned as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“Hush, Sailor, you love it.” she smirked against his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” he muttered, pulling her closer for a deeper kiss.

******

“My jeans are too tight.” she said.

“What?” Frank laughed.

“I can’t be bothered to take them off.” she leant up on her elbows and ginned at him “Wanna help me out Sailor?”

“Happily…” he grinned, and moved towards her but she stopped him.

“Ah ah…” she said, pointing to his polo-shirt. “Off.” With an arch of his eyebrow he reached back and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling it over his head. “Better?”

“You were a hit in there…” she said gently, her fingers tracing the muscles on his arms as he propped himself up over her.

“Yeah?” he asked, gently shifting so that she moved with him, laying further up the bed.

She nodded “Charmed the pants off all the posh bastards you did, Adler.” “There’s only one person I’m interested in charming the pants off.” he quipped and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Smooth.” “Is it working?”

She glanced down. “Nope, they’re still on.”

“Guess I’ll have to use my hands then…” he said, and with a quick move down he slid them over her ankles and gently pressed his lips to her skin, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her leg, nipping at the inside of her thigh. Fliss gave a soft sigh as he moved, his short beard scratching at her skin as he moved, her hands fisting in the sheets. When he reached his target he gently placed a long lick up her entrance, causing her hands to tighten on the soft covers besides her, before one gently fisted in his hair. His lips and tongue gently teased her, all the time Frank relishing the fact that her breathing was quickening as she neared her release, her body writhing in pleasure. It wasn’t long before her hand tightened on his hair and he gave a low moan at her touch, which vibrated through he body, and her hips bucked upwards. Placing a strong arm over her waist he held her down as her knees tightened slightly around his head and she let out a gasp, her arm flying to her mouth to stifle her loud moan as she came hard. Working her through it he then moved back, stripping off the remainder of his clothes before he crawled up her body again, kissing his way up from her naval to her chest. She arched her back and he reached around to unhook her bra before he set his attention to her breasts.

He could listen to the noises and whimpers she was making all day but after a week he was aching for her.

“Need you…” he said softly into her ear and she nodded, her hand gesturing to her bedside table. He paused and pulled open the drawer, and had to smirk as he saw the packet of condoms in there. Pulling one out he opened it, whilst Fliss gently gave him a stroke causing him to hiss slightly, his fingers fumbling on the foil and she grinned.

“Something distracting you Sailor?” “You know damned well what’s distracting me…” he said, his voice almost a growl as her hand moved over his whilst he rolled the latex down.

Her giggle turned to a moan as he buried himself inside her, his entire body feeling coiled like a spring, and his thrusts began as slow, and deep before soon she was begging for more and he picked up the pace, each movement rolling against her spot, causing her to breathlessly whisper his name as he buried his face into her neck, nipping and biting at that spot that drove her wild. At some point she moved, gently pushing on his shoulders, and he understood, rolling onto his back. She moved to straddle him, pulling her long hair over one shoulder as she leaned down to draw him into a deep, sultry kiss before she sank down onto him, taking him in.

“Fuck, Lissy…” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips as she began to move, rolling her pelvis, “God you feel so good…” She preened at his praise, her pace quickening as she leaned forward again to kiss him, a moan falling from her mouth as he raised his hips to meet hers, his fingers tightening on her hips. Frank looked up at her, her mouth slack, lips plump, freckles still visible in the soft light from the outside lights, breasts bouncing softly as she moved.

“So beautiful…” he said, sitting up and she cried out at the change of depth as he pulled her close, thrusting up into her.

“Frankie, I’m…” and with a low whine her head tipped back as her release washed over her, a slow, deep burn which left her slack in his arms, as she collapsed forward. After a few more desperate thrusts he was right behind her, clinging to her, his face buried into her shoulder, his own groans stifled in her skin.

They stayed like that for a little while, both recovering, hands softly dancing over skin before he leaned up to give her a soft kiss.

“You ok?” he asked, and she glanced down at him, her hands cupping his face as her lips ghosted over his.

“Never better.” she whispered to him, kissing him again.

***** Frank woke the next morning and as he blinked, he realised he was alone. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes, before he could hear soft voices from elsewhere in the annex. Grabbing his phone he looked down and with a start realised it was past 10. Running a hand over his face he climbed out of bed, grabbed his bag and retrieved a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt before he grabbed his jeans which were now folded and placed over the back of the chair by Fliss’ vanity unit. After sorting himself in the bathroom he made his way downstairs and found Fliss and Mary sat outside in the small yard, an array of breakfast items on the table. Fliss long hair was pulled into a messy pony tail and she was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Even like that she looked effortlessly gorgeous.

“Morning.” he greeted, stepping out onto the decking and Fliss smiled at him.

“Hey.” she said, accepting the kiss he dropped onto her cheek before he sat down next to her. “Sleep well.”

“Hmmm I was tired for some reason.” he quipped, causing her to grin.

“Fliss says I can go ride Monty today.” Mary looked at Frank. “Is that ok?”

“It’s not your week for a lesson.” Frank said, “And it’s Friday.”

“It’s ok.” Fliss said “The riding school is shut. Joanne’s done the morning shift so we can just go up this afternoon. I need to work Cap and Bronson but she can ride if she wants.” “Please….” Mary looked at Frank who sighed.

“I’ve gotta nip to the boat yard.” he said, “Got some guy who needs a motor looking at and I said I’d meet him today…” “I don’t wanna go to the boat yard.” Mary pouted.

“It’s ok, she can come with me.” Fliss offered “I don’t mind, honestly.”

Frank hesitated, he didn’t want Fliss to think she was obliged to take Mary. He knew that the pair of them came as a package but still.

“You sure?” Frank asked “Roberta would normally take her but she’s not back until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, its fine.” Fliss nodded “She can help me and Joanne.”

“Ok, then, yeah, you can go.”

Mary grinned and turned her attention back to her book.

“You want breakfast?” Fliss asked, moving to stand.

“I’ll get it…you stay there.” Frank said, but Mary suddenly jumped up.

“No it’s ok, we made you something special…” With that she shot into the kitchen.

“Special?” Frank looked at Fliss, and she grinned as his lips met hers.

“Yeah…” she nodded to Mary who emerged from the kitchen, giggling. Frank gave a snort of a laugh and shook his head as she thrust the box of Special K into his hands.

“Thanks…” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

@momobaby227 @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @southerngracela @goldenfightergir @kellymat @official-and-unstable-satan @icanfeelastormbrewing @pagesoflauren

#frank adler x ofc #frank adler #gifted #gifted fan fic

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lia-jones · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains - Chapter One - Despite You, I’ll Be Happy

I watched as the sunlight played with the curtains at the office. It revealed the dust floating in the air, reflecting itself in it, making it seem like little angels had come to visit. For two whole seconds, I allowed myself to believe that was true, and that I was being blessed, protected. But I turned again to my darkest thoughts, and those were telling me I was beyond any blessing. I was broken, and only a miracle could put the pieces all together into something that made actual sense. My therapist woke me up from my stupor.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Dust and angels.” I replied, not thinking too much before I answered. She would find a hidden meaning in my words, no matter what I said. “That I’m beyond repair.”

“Andrea, what happened does not define you. You need to remember that at all times. It can severely injure you, physically and emotionally, but it can’t change you. Not unless you let it.”

I laughed bitterly. Of course it defined me. Emotional and verbal abuse is all about changing the conception of one’s self, to tear it to pieces, to make it drown it bloody sorrow. And even if I could disengage from that hopeless feeling, even if I could be stronger, which I was clearly not able to, there was a mark, hidden yet apparently visible to the public eye, the one of the weak battered girlfriend. That mark was carved in me, unwilling to heal and fade away.

Even if I could overcome abuse, even if I could become stronger, I still had to deal with that. Always having someone look at me like I was going to break at any minute, walking on eggshells around me, developing feelings of pity and compassion, instead of respect. That defined me and defined how the world saw me. The abuse I had gone through was my Mark of Cain.

“Are you still going to your Krav Maga lessons? Are they helpful?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel when you go? Do you feel empowered?”

“Mostly angry. Infuriated.”

“And why do you feel that?”

“I wish I could punch him instead. I wish I could do to him what he did to me. I want payback.”

“Do you know what’s the best payback you can have?” My therapist came closer to me, and held my hand. Was it pity? The question made my eyes water.

“Death penalty?” I joked, mostly to disguise my incoming tears.

“You make him see he’s meaningless. Be happy, despite him.” She paused, like she was carefully choosing the words, and then she softly smiled at me. “One of these days, Andrea, you'll see he can no longer hurt you, you have taken that power from him, but that will only happen when you allow yourself to be happy again. I’m sure that you will find amazing things about yourself, things you didn’t even know existed.”

I let one or two tears leave my eyes, and no more than that. I was tired of crying.

“Your mother says you got accepted for an internship at a prestigious investment company overseas, is that right?”

“Yes, in Loveland, for Loveland Financial Group. I need an internship to finish my doctorate.”

“So, when are you going?”

“I’m not sure I should do it.” Just the very thought of embarking on that sort of journey made my stomach tighten.

“Why not?”

“Not very interested. Not excited. Not ready.”

“I think you should. You keep complaining people look differently at you here. In Loveland, people won’t know. It could give you the space you need to heal. Plus, it will get your mother out of your hair.”

Later that night, I took from my bag the green notebook I had bought on my way home. Ceremoniously, I opened it, and wrote on the first page in red letters.

Dear asshole,

Thank you for making me not care for my life at all. I hope you fall on your face and break every beautiful porcelain tooth you have.

Fuck you,

Andrea

I paused, looking at the venom I had spread on that page. I thought about what the therapist said about moving to Loveland. A brand new start. A place where I could be just Andrea, and not Andrea the abused girlfriend. Or Daniel’s girlfriend, the girlfriend of the boy wonder. I could prove to myself and others that I was strong enough to overcome it. And my family would be relieved to see me do something for myself, to start a new life, and they could finally relax. I could make them proud.

These thoughts sparked something inside of me that I couldn’t figure out at the moment, maybe it was hope. I took the notebook and wrote a few more words, closing it with determination. On the first page, in red, one could read:

Dear asshole,

Thank you for making me not care for my life at all. I hope you fall on your face and break every beautiful porcelain tooth you have.

Fuck you,

Andrea

PS: Now just sit and watch while I turn it all around. I get to be happy, even if it is in spite of you.

________________________________________________________________

Two months later

My phone rang while I was brushing my teeth, getting ready to leave the house. I pushed my toothbrush to the side of my cheek and checked the phone. It was my mother.

I ran to the bathroom sink to spit the toothpaste and rinse my mouth before I answered the phone.

“Andy, you’re on speaker. Getting ready for the interview?” My mother asked. I could clearly hear my father and my brother in the background.

“Josh is there too?” I asked, surprised. It should be around 11 pm on the previous day in Portugal.

“Yes, and Cristina too. She’s just putting Ana to sleep. So tell me, what are you wearing? Did you see the outfit I packed for you?”

I looked at the teal neck boat dress on my bed, smiling.

“Yes, Mom, thank you.”

“I think it will go really well with your peacock…”

“Bracelet, yes, I know. It’s right here.” I twirled the peacock pendant in my hands. The peacock’s wings were adorned with blue and green crystals, that glistened in the sunlight coming from my window as I moved it.

“Good luck, honey. We all love you. We are so very proud of you.” I could hear my mother’s throat catch in this last sentence.

“Sure. I love you guys.”

“LOVE YOU, ANDY!” I could hear my father and brother from afar.

After hanging up, I put on my dress and went to the bathroom to fix my hair. I had wished I had straight hair my whole life, because my hair had a life of its own. I loved the color, it was light brown with natural golden highlights, but it wasn’t exactly curly and it wasn’t exactly straight, it had these soft waves that would look nice on most days, making beautiful curls at the tips, but there were other times my hair would just decide to stay frizzy, no matter what I did. That day was a frizzy day, so I just made a ponytail and applied some styling foam, hoping it would be at least acceptable, and not look like a broom.

After careful consideration, and reminding myself of the hot weather outside, I applied almost no makeup, just the enough amount to conceal the dark circles under my eyes. Some lip balm, and that was it.

When I arrived at LFG, the hall was full of people, probably interns like me. I went to the reception to give my name.

After a while, a man with brown hair and brown eyes framed with glasses came to me, shaking my hand.

“Good morning, my name is Henry Goldman. Are you Miss Jones?” I nodded with a smile. “Good. Please follow me to the conference room. The CEO will meet us there.”

We both sat in a huge conference room with a big glass table, with some silver ornaments decorating the center of it. It had a professional and minimalistic decoration, the floor was made of black marble, and the walls behind and in front of me were made of frosted glass. There was a huge screen on one of the other walls, that were painted in light grey, probably to show documents during meetings, while the other wall bared LFG logo, in silver letters.

Goldman sat across from me, slightly to my right side, holding some documents. We sat awkwardly in silence, while he flipped through the pages. After a while, he started to fidget. Seeing him so nervous, my palms started to sweat, and I took a tissue from my purse to clean them, trying to calm my nerves. I didn’t really know what I was so worried about, I had already been accepted, this was just a formality.

“Mr. Lee should be arriving at any moment.” He said, nervously.

“I can wait. Don’t worry.” I used the calmest voice I could muster, to see if I could make him relax. The man was making me jittery.

“Actually…” He got up, seemingly unsure that he should. “I better check…. Could you hold on for a second…” He opened the door and looked outside, but saw something that made him quickly shut the door and bolt to his chair. I remembered when I was a child and the class was rowdy, waiting for the teacher in the classroom, and how we ran to our seats when we saw the teacher approaching. I bet my life that’s how I looked like back then.

A tall man entered the room, wearing a charcoal suit, black shirt and silver tie. His expression was grim and cold. Without a word, he sat next to Goldman, facing me. Goldman got up, smiling widely, and introduced us:

“Andrea, this is Victor Lee, our honored CEO. Victor, this is Andrea Jones, our new-”

“Quit the idle pleasantries and get me some coffee.”

I was surprised by his tone and quick dismissal, but tried to maintain a neutral face. Goldman turned to me to ask if I wanted coffee, looking more agitated than before. I shook my head immediately. By that time, the CEO had already grabbed the files Goldman left on the table and was skimming through them silently, his expression impatient.

I was left alone with him, trying not to look very nervous. I started playing with the peacock on my wrist.

“Why LFG?” The CEO asked, breaking the silence and my trance. I noticed his eyes for the first time, wondering what color they were exactly. Black? Grey?

“I’m sorry?” I was clearly distracted and wasn’t expecting him to start like this. He sighed and asked again, his voice dripping annoyance.

“Why did you choose to apply here?” He spoke purposefully slowly, like I was too dumb to understand. “You’re from Portugal, why choose a place so distant?”

I tried not to roll my eyes at his insult, acting the most professional I could. Remember to relax, Andrea. Believe in your qualities. The job is already yours.

“LFG is one of the most prestigious and high quoted investment companies on the market almost since its birth. I already have experience in investment companies, now I want to learn from the very best. The distance is just a happy coincidence. I appreciate the change of scenery.”

His grey eyes turned to my brown ones, holding the gaze fiercely.

“Do you know why LFG holds such a high place on the market?”

“I can imagine. High standards, an eye for business, and hard work.” I said, trying to look confident.

“You have an impeccable resume, so much that I had to confirm its veracity. Every teacher and employee I have contacted has only the best to say about you, how hard-working and bright you are. And I am pleased with your attitude. I just need a last piece of information.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Last year, you seemed to be inactive. No work, no studies.”

“I’ve had some health issues. I’d rather not go into details, but all is well now and I don’t expect any problems in the future.”

“Very well. The job is yours.”

I blinked at him.

“Wasn’t that decided already?”

The CEO looked me in the eye, his eyes cold.

“I hope you understand the opportunity that’s being presented to you. A golden ticket. Did you notice the crowd of people at the entrance?”

“The new interns?” I asked, confused.

“The people that are after your job, and that I will have to turn down. Do not disappoint me.”

And without any other word, he left the room, forgetting about the files, forgetting about the coffee.

And I sat there, my mind foggy with the interaction. And apparently, I forgot to walk.

#Growing Pains - Series #growingpains #victor mlqc #victor x oc #mlqc #mlqc li zeyan #love and producer

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Galactica, Chapter 35 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet’s promotion became official, and Bianca set her sights on a certain blonde.

This Chapter: Violet begins her new job, and things are not exactly what she expected.

***

Even though everything was technically all the same, Violet felt like she had walked into a completely different building.

She had greeted Roxy with a smile, the receptionist at her desk when Violet had walked in at 9:30 for her visit with HR, people actually present unlike when Violet usually came in at the crack of dawn. Trixie had insisted that she take a slow morning, almost forbidding her to come in with the rest of the floor, and Violet guessed that it made sense since it was her first day.

Violet walked out of the elevator, her heels clacking on the floor, her stomach filled with butterflies.

Her morning had been a lot more messy than she preferred. She had changed her clothes a million times, unsure what to wear, until she had finally settled on a simple long sleeved top and a full skirt. It was completely Fame approved, but Violet felt comfortable in it, none of it too flashy or attention grabbing. Violet knew how to use a sewing machine in heels, but she still had a pair of flats in her bag, just in case someone truly cared about the company's safety guidelines.

She paused in front of the door, smoothing down her skirt, one, two, three times, before grabbing the handle and opening the door to the first day of the rest of her life.

“Violet!” Trixie smiled brightly, standing up from where he had been leaning over Gia’s shoulder, who was somehow still miraculously working at the company - even after her screw up in the Fall. “Welcome! I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Oh,” Violet stopped. She couldn’t remember ever being greeted with so much enthusiasm when coming into work, but it was nice, very nice. “I’m happy to be here?”

“Yes you are,” Trixie grinned, walking over to her, the man wearing a somewhat ridiculous white t-shirt with a pink and blue band logo Violet didn’t recognise. “We’re going to have so much fun, but first, Everyone!”

Trixie clapped his hands, catching the attention of the entire department who all turned to them.

“This is Violet Chachki, you all already know her as Fame’s assistant,” Trixie smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Say hi.”

“Hello,” Violet said, lifting her hand in greeting. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, the whole thing horribly embarrassing, everyone looking at her. Violet wasn’t unused to attention, but she disliked it heavily when it was focused on her person, and not on something she had created.

She attempted a smile, doing her very best not to let anyone know how awkward she felt.

“She is going to be working with us now here in the best department of Galactica!” Trixie released her, earning a laugh from everyone. “I want you all to make her feel welcome and settled since we all know what it was like to be new,” he finished with a lot of them looking on with slight smiles and waves.

“You got it coach!”

Violet turned to look at the source of the voice, an incredibly tall bald man with a gigantic smile and a raspy voice the one who had called out. Violet recognized Bob, who was the design department's project manager, though she didn’t think she had ever seen him in Fame’s office.

“Let me show you around.” Trixie looped their arms together, dragging Violet with him before she had the chance to put down her bag, or even take off her jacket.

The design floor was a myriad of various fabrics in countless colors and prints with a multitude of textures to choose from.

Dress forms, in an assortment of sizes, lined the walls under large glass windows that brought in natural light and a beautiful view, of the east side, of Central Park.

The floor had neat rows of long work tables each with their own computers, drawing sections, sewing machines, hanging dress form and a rolling stool.

“Aaaaaaaand this, is your desk!” Trixie smiled brightly, throwing an arm out as he showed Violet her place.

“What…” Violet looked at the big collage that was put right in the middle. “Is that?”

“Right?” Trixie grinned, clearly very proud of himself “I made it for you.”

“Oh…” Violet bit her lip, unease welling up in her body. The gesture was kind, but it was strange to see so many pictures of herself, most of all because she had no idea when most of them had actually been taken. “Thank you.” She was sure she could stuff it in her drawer later, the paper looking sturdy enough to be shoved down there.

“Don’t mention it,” Trixie gave her a halfarm hug, holding her against his side for a minute. “Now, next on the agenda- Jovan, pay attention.”

“Sure thing coach.”

Violet watched as Jovan turned around, the man sitting backwards on his chair, one of his long limbs pulled up in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable position.

“Hello.” Jovan smiled, a gigantic white toothed grin on his face. He was bald, the top of his head somehow not smooth like Bob’s, but instead sort of wrinkly.

“Jovan will be your desk mate.”

Violet had wondered who she’d be seated next to, and while she had never actually spoken to Jovan, he wasn’t her worst option.

“Hello,” Violet held out her hand, “I’m Violet.”

“Please,” Jovan snorted, grabbing her hand in a surprisingly hard grip. “I already know who you are.”

“Jovan is one of our contemporary designers.”

Violet nodded, hiding a smile. It was clear as day that Jovan was in contemporary, his shirt a multicolored almost neon asymmetrical tunic.

“One of the best,” Jovan squeezed her hand, letting it go, “contemporary designers. Don’t touch my stuff, and I promise that you and I will get along great.”

“Jovan-” Trixie started scolding, but Violet cut in.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Violet put her bag on the table. She had never seen Trixie scold anyone, but judging by the furrow of his brow, Jovan was toeing the line.

“What’s on the agenda, coach?” Jovan had somehow managed to cross his legs around the chair, a pencil dangling from his mouth.

“Oh,” Trixie smiled, and Violet reached inside her bag, grabbing her notebook. “Violet has the morning off.”

“Wha-” Violet paused, unsure if she had heard Trixie correctly. “Excuse me, what did you say?” It was only Monday, but Violet knew that design had their weekly department wide meetings every Thursday, and if she was being honest, she had expected to be thrown directly into the work, the Christmas collection just around the corner.

“The morning off.” Trixie grinned. “Decorate your desk, say hi to everyone, get all your little knick knacks in order and later we’ll have cake to celebrate your first day.”

***

Jovan groaned slightly. He was supposed to be working on the holiday collection but he just couldn’t seem to find an interesting angle.

Jovan didn’t like making gowns, and though he had managed once or twice to sneak in a pants suit or something mildly interesting, Raja and Fame had a clear almost inarguable preference towards high classic glamor when it came to the holidays.

He flipped back and forth between his sketches, pencil in his mouth, erasing a line here of adding one there. After a bit, he sensed a disturbance in the energy, his attention shifted slightly across the table to his new deskmate.

Violet was sitting at her desk, tapping her nails on the wood, her lip between her teeth as she was looking out on the department. She was practically radiating nervous energy, her desk already all neatly set up.

Jovan noticed a leather bound planner, a collection of pens and pencils in an empty Dior box, a thick stack of sketching paper, as well as a well stocked sewing kit, a golden pair of scissors sticking out.

She seemed to be in worse shape than he was, clearly not used to being given idle creative time, and Jovan smiled slightly, deciding to take pity on her.

“Hey, Violet.” Jovan pushed his chair out, scooting over to her table. “I’m working on this dress,” Jovan put his sketches down on Violet’s desk, “and I can’t figure out the hem length. Will you check it out?”

“Oh, um, sure…” Violet leaned over the desk table, pushing a bit of her hair behind her ear. Jovan hadn’t noticed the bracelet or her rings before, the golden jewelry clearly well worn, but also well taken care of. “What’s the problem?”

“See, I’m trying it three different ways, but they all feel wrong...” Jovan tapped his sketches, already enjoying how seriously Violet considered the question, examining each sketch closely and looking at them back and forth a few times before attempting an answer.

“I like the length on the second one, but the shoulders on the third one might balance it out more,” she finally said, and he smiled.

“Yeah, good call, thanks!” Jovan stretched, yawning slightly. He was already feeling much better, but Violet still looked lost.

“I need caffeine.” Jovan stood up. “You wanna come for some espresso or a latte or something?”

“Oh.” Violet looked genuinely surprised at his request, sneaking a quick glaze at Trixie’s closed office door before she made up her mind. “Um, alright…” Violet reached for her coat, but Jovan stopped her.

“No,” Jovan smiled. “I just mean the espresso machine we have in the break room.” Jovan pointed over his shoulder, Violet following his fingers, her brow furrowing. “You did know that we have a break room down here, right?”

Jovan had heard the rumor that Fame only drank Starbucks, though he hadn’t imagined that her assistants shared the luxury, but Violet shook her head, the woman both looking mystified and curious, and Jovan realised that he had never actually seen her in any of the Galactica break rooms ever.

“Come on,” Jovan grabbed her elbow, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll show you.”

***

“Stop, omigod, I can’t breathe,” Maxwell wheezed, clutching Bob’s shoulder and practically choking with laughter at his boyfriend’s story.

“No, but listen. Then Acid turned to him and-”

Maxwell reached up and covered Bob’s mouth with his hand, having just spotted Jovan strolling towards the break room with Violet in tow.

“Incoming mole,” he warned, giving a nod with his head.

Maxwell had been working at Galactica for his entire career - over ten years now. He’d seen many assistants come and go from Miss Fame’s office.

Most of the time, they moved on to other jobs in the industry, working for buyers or as stylists. Occasionally, they were promoted within the company. Shangela had started off as Fame’s assistant years ago, and so had Laganja in marketing. But this was the first time anyone had been sent to design. Granted, Violet was one of the more competent and longer-lasting assistants, but still.

He was suspicious.

Bob seemed perfectly ready to welcome Violet to the family with open arms. Maxwell, on the other hand, was more cautious, and the last thing he wanted was for Violet to walk in on some debaucherous story about drag queens.

“Look professional!” he hissed, before removing his hand.

“First of all, I’m always professional. And second, would you relax?” Bob smirked, leaning against the table, his favorite mug in hand. “She seems perfectly nice.”

“Oh please,” Maxwell huffed, “You just want upstairs gossip.”

For as long as Bob has been at the company--nearly as long as Maxwell, he’d been utterly fascinated with senior management. Their weird quirks and tempestuous moods, all the tabloid nonsense.

“Uh!” Bob gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I resent that!”

“Well, resent it or not, it’s true,” Maxwell quipped.

“You name one time when I’ve been the source of gossip around here,” Bob said, a hand on his hip, in full queen mode.

“That’s...what...all the time!” Maxwell sputtered, caught off guard by that ridiculous defense. Bob was a notorious gossip. He was the only person Maxwell knew who still talked on the phone with multiple people every day, for fun. It was half the reason why they’d never moved in together, Maxwell unable to imagine living with Bob’s need to talk on the phone for hours in the evening. Maxwell enjoyed people too, sometimes, but after work, he more often than not wanted some peace and solitude.

“So you can’t name one specific time? Interesting.” Bob’s brown eyes glittered with amusement, always the happiest when he was in teasing mode.

“You’re impossible!” Maxwell turned to Jovan, who was now busy with the espresso machine. “Bob says he’s not a gossip.”

“Ha!” Jovan snorted. “Violet, what do you want?”

“An americano is more than fine.” Violet smiled, and Maxwell realised that he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen that expression on the former assistants face before.

He had never spoken with her before, Ivy always the assistant who came along to the design meetings, but he had seen her follow Fame down the halls, and he still remembered how bad he had felt for her during Fame’s temperature meltdown at their September show.

“Violet, Violet, Violet,” Bob put a hand down, turning his body towards her. “Do not listen to them.” Bob pouting at both Maxwell and Jovan. “I’m not a gossip. I’m a very trustworthy confidante, so if you have anything you need to share about, you know, upstairs...I’m all ears.” Bob grinned.

“Ah!” Maxwell cried triumphantly, “Case in fucking point you fucking gossip!”

“Upstairs?” Violet looked genuinely confused for a moment.

“You know,” Bob pointed at the ceiling, “Upstairs.”

“Ah.”

Maxwell made a face at Bob, clearing his throat slightly.

Why did he have to reveal everything right away? They didn’t know how trustworthy this girl was yet, and so they should really assume zero percent. It was the only safe and logical conclusion.

“Sorry, assistant code,” said Violet with an apologetic shrug. “My lips are sealed”

“Wow. Okay, I see how it is,” Bob said, and Maxwell rolled his eyes.

“Honestly Bob, what if she’d come down here and started reporting all kinds of rumors? Wouldn’t that make you concerned?” he asked, reaching up to tug on on Bob’s ear.

“Concerned…. Entertained… Potato, potahto.” Bob grinned, taking another sip from his mug.

“Goddammit,” Jovan said, struggling with the machine. “Cracks, can you help me? This fucking thing, we need a new one-”

“Sure.” Maxwell stepped over to the machine to assist. He remembered when Trixie first got it for them, almost six years ago, how everyone had just gone crazy over it. But lately it was acting up, and the designers were not pleased when they needed to wait an extra 30 seconds for coffee. The company should really take care of it before there was some kind of mutiny. He made a mental note to talk to Trixie later.

“So, Violet,” Bob continued, “How’s it going? Is our boy Jovan being cool, or is he in one of his moods?”

“Fuck off,” Jovan cut in, sitting down heavily. “I’m fucking delightful.”

Maxwell chuckled to himself over that, Jovan’s stormy moods something everyone in the department knew intimately.

“He’s been very kind,” Violet said, her hand gripping the edge of her skirt.

“Yeah, yeah.” Bob smiled, rolling his eyes. “Look, Violet, let me give you some advice,” Bob turned to Jovan. “You’ve gotta pay attention to that big vein in his forehead, and when it starts popping out...run.”

“Oh.”

“Eat a dick, Bob.”

“Yours?” Bob looked down, leering at Max’s brown khakis, a grin on his face, “Or like, any dick?” Bob teased, wiggling his brows. “Either way, I’m down.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes, giving Bob a Look intended to say ‘not in mixed company,’ gesturing towards Violet, the poor girl probably scandalized by this kind of talk, judging from her ramrod straight posture and demurely folded hands.

He turned to Jovan for backup, only to find him sitting at one of the tables, big wrinkly head in his hands. Maxwell tapped him on the shoulder, hoping to help him avoid an existential crisis before eleven am.

“How’s the Hanukkah dress?” Maxwell asked, which is what he’d been jokingly calling the blue cocktail number that poor Jovan was working on. Jovan rolled his eyes.

“Killing me. Violet had a good idea though, so I guess I’ll try that.”

“Are you gonna embroider a menorah on the front?” Maxwell teased.

“No, I was thinking that the skirt would just be a giant dreidel.”

Maxwell laughed at that, though truth be told, you could never be too sure with Jovan. He might just do it.

“Did Coach assign you anything yet, Violet?” Bob asked.

“No..” Violet tilted her head. “Is there a reason you call him that?”

“Oh. Yeah. So, Trixie’s the only straight guy around here-”

“Straight identified,” Maxwell corrected, and Violet snorted, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yeah, so, we like to give him shit. We call him Coach. You know...” Bob made his hand into a fist and punched Violet very lightly on the shoulder, deepening his voice. “Coach!”

“He’s the only straight guy, and of course he’s the one in charge of the department,” Jovan added pointedly.

“Well, yes, there’s also that,” Bob chuckled. “Anyway, have you gotten an assignment for the holiday collection? I’ve seen some pictures of your student stuff,” Trixie had dropped by with Violet’s portfolio, shoving it to Bob who had loved flipping through it. “I assumed you’d be doing gowns most of the time.”

“No-” Violet opened her mouth, but then seemed to rethink it, and close it again. “Not yet.”

“So...Chachki,” Maxwell said, handing her coffee over. “Are you Jewish?”

“No,” Violet said simply, and Bob burst out laughing.

“She said nope,” he giggled, popping the p.

“Well, where are you from? What’s your deal? Tell us everything,” Maxwell continued, undeterred by Bob’s laughter.

“Oh. Um… There’s not much to tell. I graduated from Parsons a few years ago. I’m originally from Atlanta-”

“Hey! Me too!” Bob exclaimed. “I’m from Clayton County. Where’d you go to high school?”

“-But I’ve been in New York since I was 13.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

“I got a job working for Miss Fame, and...that’s about it.” Violet looked around, her lip between her teeth.

“Wow. Fascinating,”

“Sorry, I’m not very interesting.”

“No no,” Maxwell said. “You should write a memoir.”

“Omigod, she’s like twelve years old, leave her alone,” Bob said. “In case you haven’t noticed, Violet, these guys are a mess and you should ignore 98% of everything they say.”

Bob put his arm around Maxwell, squeezing him affectionately even as the insults rolled off his tongue.

“And what about you?” Maxwell asked.

“Me?” Bob asked. “Oh, fully same.”

***

“What,” Violet was staring at the table, a brown concoction staring right back at her, “on earth is this?”

“You never seen one before?” Alexis smiled, getting in next to her, “They call it a cronut, girl. Everyone in the city is obsessed with them,” she grabbed one, “and they’re delicious.”

Violet had spent lunch with Alexis, Gia and April, the three women slipping back and forth between English and Spanish, their conversation practically impossible to follow, but Violet hadn’t minded.

It had been incredibly nice to just sit with someone for lunch without constantly checking her phone, Violet unsure if she had ever actually had an uninterrupted lunch break at Galactica before.

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip, still not too sure about the offered treat. “Are we already-”

“Hey, Violet-” Violet turned her head to see Blu slip in next to her, a big smile on the Irish woman's beautiful face. Her ginger hair was pushed back with a hairband, her grey eyes attentive and kind. “Are you coming to the happy hour?”

“Happy hour?”

“Mmh,” Blu nodded, “a couple of us always go round the corner for a pint on Mondays at 5:30. You know, for bonding and stuff.”

“Huh.” Violet bit her lip. She had seen Blu and Gia working that morning, but it seemed strange to her that they were expecting to be let go at 5:30, the whole thing even stranger since both Blu and Gia were actively enjoying the pastries.

“So, you coming?”

“Oh, no,” Violet did her best to smile, to look genuinely apologetic. “I can’t.”

Sutan had texted her about whether or not she wanted to come over after work, and Violet couldn’t wait to cuddle up on the couch, tucked safe and sound under Sutan’s arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Blu smiled, though Violet wasn’t sure it actually was based on the look in her eyes, “You can come next time-”

“Violet!” Blu was cut off as Trixie came over, “Blu! Are you enjoying the cronuts?”

“Yes boss,” Blu held up her cronut, over half of it gone. “It’s delicious.”

“Have you had any, Violet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Here.” Trixie grabbed a plate, quickly scooping one up for her. “It’s pumpkin chai this month!”

“Thanks.” Violet took it, unsure what to do. It wasn’t that she hated all desserts, wasn’t that she hated all sweets, but what she did hate was trying new things when she was feeling nervous, and even though everyone had been beyond kind to her so far, she couldn’t help the unsettling feeling in her stomach that something wasn’t right.

“I can’t wait to see your finished blouse,” Trixie was smiling, his hand on Blu’s arm. “I’m counting on you.”

“Mmh,” Blu nodded, pride in her eyes, and Trixie gave her one last squeeze, clearly intending to walk on and make sure everyone was having a good time.

“Trixie-” Violet took a step forward, her now boss turning around to look at her.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“I was wondering, if I could-” Violet wanted to throw herself out the window, the entire thing so terribly awkward, the fact that she was daring to even consider questioning her boss’ process, “it’s about the holiday collection-”

“Oh, that silly thing?” Trixie laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But,” Violet took another step forward, “I’d like to, like to worry, that is-”

“You’ll watch the design meeting on Thursday, see how things are done around here.” Trixie smiled. “Ease into it, take it slow.”

“But I have an idea for-” Violet didn’t know if she was allowed, but she had already picked up a few of the unfavored fabric swatches, a white silk and some crushed red velvet so to Fame’s taste that she knew she had to give it a try.

“If you really want to speed things up, you can spend tomorrow shadowing April.”

“Really?” It wasn’t what Violet truly wanted, but anything, literally anything, would be better than another day of ‘taking it slow’.

“It’ll be perfect for you,” Trixie smiled, “I promise.”

Trixie then took a bite of the cronut in his hand, his eyes going wide. He turned from Violet to call out, “Kimberly! Kim, did you try these pumpkin chai cronuts?! Oh my god...”

As her boss wandered off to wax poetic about his pastry, Violet dug her fingers into her palm. Wasn’t this department supposed to be the lifeblood of the company? Why was everyone so chill?

Violet tried to be positive, tried to believe that Trixie was only doing what he thought best for her, but she couldn’t help wondering if she was still working for Galactica, the feeling of utterly uselessness washing over her for the first time since she had started at the company.

***

“Are you feeling chopsticks or fork?”

“Fork please.”

“Of course.” Violet smiled as Sutan began to dig through his cutlery drawer, soft jazz playing from the radio in the window. She had gotten somewhat used to seeing him without his suits in Paris, early morning Sutan walking around in pajama pants and t-shirts for as long as he could, but there was something special about seeing him in casual chinos and the sweaters he seemed to favor now that it was getting colder outside.

They were in his kitchen, Violet sitting at the table. When she had come over, Sutan had been setting up in the dining room, but she had asked him if they could please sit in the kitchen instead, the room so much cosier and lived in than the dining room.

Violet had been looking forward to her first day in design since she started at Galactica, but now that she had gotten there, it felt like a hollow victory.

She was sure tomorrow would be better, that it’d be more meaningful, but for now, she just wanted to spend time with the man she really genuinely liked.

“Here you go.” Sutan handed her the fork. “You know,” Sutan smirked, crossing his arms, “You should really learn how to use chopsticks.”

“I know how to use chopsticks,” Violet looked up at Sutan, putting her fork down. “I just prefer not to.”

“Sure lovely eyes.” Sutan grinned, grabbing the back of her chair, leaning down to kiss her, when the doorbell rang.

“Ah,” Sutan gave her a quick peck, his lips tasting faintly like peppermint with an undercurrent of cigarettes, his eyes sparkling.

“That must be the food.” Sutan stood up, reaching into his pocket for a wad of cash Violet hadn’t even noticed. “Do you mind finishing setting the table?”

“Of course not.” Violet stood herself as Sutan walked out, and she quickly crossed the room, opening the cabinet she knew housed Sutan’s plates.

The request hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, Violet helping more often than not, but as she actually looked at the kitchen table, she realized what she had accidentally said yes to.

Sutan’s laptop was sitting in the middle, but besides that, the table was covered in work stuff, Sutan’s laptop, headshots, what Violet could only assume was contracts, folders and modeling portfolios spread all over.

She couldn’t see any kind of system, and if she had been at work she wouldn’t have dared to move a single thing, but Sutan had asked her to take care of it, and take care of it she would.

Violet knew Sutan had an office, but she had never actually seen him use it, or heard him mention it. Violet felt weird moving Sutan’s work things, but as she quickly piled it all on one end of the table, she recognized that this was probably why she liked the kitchen so much.

It was obviously the place in the apartment Sutan used the most, and the one she instinctively felt was more Sutan than Raja; everywhere else, even Sutan’s own bedroom, so obviously designed and furnished by his twin.

It was a strange thought that Raja had so much influence on Sutan’s life, but it wasn’t something she was ever going to bring up, their relationship none of her business.

Violet was just a moment in time for Sutan, so who was she to make any sort of suggestion about anything.

“Ah, great.” She was just setting the plates, when Sutan returned with more takeout bags than Violet had ever expected. “You’re almost done.”

“Are we expecting company?”

“Company?” Sutan looked confused for a moment, and Violet nodded her head towards the food in his arms, which caused him to laugh. “Please. This is just for us.” Sutan put the bags down, opening up the first one. “I figured it was worth celebrating your first day.”

“Huh.” Violet sat down on her chair once again, watching as Sutan produced one white cardboard carton after another. “How much did you get?”

“Oh you know, just a little bit of everything. I have dumplings, wontons and egg rolls, chow mein, orange chicken, beef and broccoli, black pepper scallops, garlic eggplant. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Violet didn’t want to tell Sutan that she only had a very limited idea of what she genuinely liked beyond orange chicken and white rice, a childhood of bland suburban chain restaurants and her years in New York on a tight budget never leaving her much room for indulgence.

“Interesting.” Violet bit her lip, but Sutan grinned, continuing the unpacking. “Have you ever heard of cronuts?”

“What?” Sutan paused, a carton in hand. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised. “Lovely eyes. I may be older than you, but I don’t live under a rock?”

“Hmm.” Violet had no idea that cronuts were apparently so well known, but she wasn’t going to show Sutan that. “We had them at work today.”

“Did you like them?”

“Not really.” Violet took the carton of rice Sutan handed her. “They take a lot of breaks, at work, I mean.”

“Sounds like a nice place.” Sutan smiled, sitting down.

VIolet nodded, opening her rice as Sutan started talking about his day. It was always nice to be around him, Sutan often chatting away in his low baritone, filling out the silence so Violet never felt obligated to speak if she didn’t want to.

“Oh-” Sutan paused, a piece of broccoli in his chopsticks. “That reminds me. What are you wearing on Friday?”

“Friday?” Violet quickly ran through her week in her head, and she was fairly certain that she had nothing on the agenda for friday.

“Yes? For Bianca’s birthday.”

“Bianca’s birthday? Bianca Del Rio?”

“Mmh.” Sutan popped the broccoli in his mouth, quickly chewing it. “It’s her 40th, and I figured it’d be nice if we coordinated.”

“Oh.” Violet bit her lip. Surprised that Sutan was dumping it on her like this, since she knew for a fact that he hadn’t mentioned it until this very moment. “And the birthday is this Friday?”

Violet tried to hide her anxiety, her heart speeding up in her chest. She didn’t have any idea what the dress code was and what to wear or where the party was being held.

“I can invite someone else?”

“What?” Violet’s head snapped up at the words. Sutan looked completely relaxed, like he hadn’t just dropped a gigantic bomb, like this wasn’t strange at all, like it was normal for him to have so many girls lined up that he could find someone with no problem at all.

“If you don’t want to go-”

“No, no.” Violet closed her hand, digging her fingers into her palm under the table. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I’ll figure something out.”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #vitan #bob x cracker #violet chachki #trixie mattel #yvie oddly #bob the drag queen #miz cracker #blu hydrangea #raja gemini #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

Whitmore Guy - Martha

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Kai Parker x fem!Reader slowburn

whatever gifs I’m going to use on this one, I hope the creators are okay with that

word count: 3612

warnings: none

music: offspring - the kids aren’t alright, blink-182 - home is such a lonely place

Y/N was staring at him without realizing it. If only she knew how easy it was, she would be horrified. She would have goosebumps all the way from her pretty head to her little toes, and she would form a perfect line on her mouth as she clenched her teeth so hard it hurt her canines. The beauty of oblivion is that you’re… oblivious. He couldn’t really figure if the feeling of almost grasping, almost realizing, almost suffering, was good on her or not. He hoped he would find out soon enough to manage to fix her if anything. Just the way she’d fixed him.

Y/N’s been staring at Mal, whose last name, as she learnt from his file, which inevitable went through her, as she was the college filing dumpster, - Osbourne. How cool is that? his eyes said to her when she looked up to nod with amazement. Mal Osbourne, the IT guy at Whitmore. He joked that Hoppus was too rare, and Swayze made him feel sad, so he chose Osbourne. Turned out he changed his name when he got of age, because he hated his family or something like that. That was the only thing he was uneasy to talk about. Mal didn’t say what his family name was before, and she didn’t press. She was still torn between investigating and being painfully disinterested in other people’s drama.

Mal was biting his lower lip busily as he punched the vending machine again. The soda can got stuck in between the springs and the glass, and he turned, flustered, to give her a look. Y/N shook her head in empathy. They shared passion for Dr Pepper, and this one can has been stuck there for the whole morning. It being Wednesday, an official mid-day of the week when you’re already tired, but not tired enough to give up completely, they invented the watch. Every fifteen minutes one of them was visiting this very vending machine to see if the can has fallen through yet. She was replacing him now, and Mal welcomed her with a grunt.

“Can’t believe not a single person came and tried to get it out”.

“Maybe they know”, Y/N examined the lit insides of the machine. Dr Pepper was tightly propped against the glass, its dark red tin can dented a little.

“How the fuck did she even get in there…” Mal muttered under his breath. She could not believe this grown man’s dedication to a tin can. “I mean, what’s the story behind it? Why did you do this to me, Y/N? It’s almost two in the afternoon, and all I’ve been thinking about today is this goddamn Dr Pepper”.

She bumped her fist on the machine really hard, and somebody jumped while passing them. A couple of concerned glances shot at their backs.

“It moved!” he almost yelled. “Bang it, and I’m gonna shake it”.

So, they assaulted the vending machine, putting a stop to their patient watch that lasted for nearly five hours. Her hand was sore pretty soon, from the bumping, but as Mal leaned back and shook the monstrous machine, all the items came into movement. A couple of packs of crisps fell out of the slots.

“Bonus points!” Mal shrilled. Dr Pepper was almost out.

Y/N puffed.

“Now, you bang, and I’ll shake”.

“That’s what she said”, Mal replied knowingly, letting her swap places with him.

Their hard work paid off, and in couple of minutes they were running heads first into the basement, hands full of crisps and soda. And that was Wednesday.

Thursday was long and tedious, because a second year student has broken her leg AND lost the keys from her car all in the same evening, and she had a mental breakdown. The hospital seemed to have a problem finding her insurance, and the insurance company refused to pay for the services of the guys who came to open her car for her and accidentally took of one of the doors; Professor Atkins, teacher of chemistry which the girl was specializing in, refused to believe the whole story although t was blatantly true, in spite of being utterly stupid; Y/N was running like a remote control car with five wheels between the insurance office, hospital and college; at six in the evening she realized it was already the twenty-fifth of May, and she still didn’t have a plan for Caroline’s party. At six forty-five she was crying in her office, her head in her hands, but her tears were not tears of a defeated person. She was very angry and couldn’t scream so she just sobbed all the nonsense away. She really hated Thursdays in general, too.

At six fifty there was a knock on her door, and she moaned, sensing, rather like an animal, that her salvation and relief has come.

“Dude”, she howled. Mal’s head penetrated the space of her office.

“If I’d known you’re falling apart, I would’ve brought a gun, not a coffee”, he said in his ever joyful voice, full of undetectable mockery.

He slid into the armchair and watched Y/N as she grabbed the cup and started drinking.

“Don’t choke. You called me, m’fair lady? What’s up with the party I never heard of?”

She nodded.

“Exactly. I forgot about this party like four times. I need you to help me. You never seem to go home or have personal life, so”.

Mal pouted, as if admitting the heavy truth.

“IT sphere… you know, it’s a lot of work. All the buttons that don’t glow… and the websites that have been blocked… deleted reports”, he scowled, “are the worst. So much pain and suffering in this place, it’s unbearable. I crack every day, too”.

He looked at Y/N almost tenderly. These looks usually made her question her sanity. Sometimes it felt like he was Alex, the name, the tattoo on her right forearm in thick, black letters. She took two more big sips and decided solid that she’d tell Mal about him. Share that and see how he feels about that. Mal’s been nothing but great help these last weeks, and they bonded, and Y/N realized that part of her nervous strain was due to this new mysterious character, almost a time bomb, smirking at her kindly across the table they lunched at. But at least that was positive hysterical energy.

“I kind of accused you of lying about having a girl, Mal. Just now”.

He gasped. His ringed fingers interlocked together on his stomach. He put up his foot which indicated he was getting comfortable, as if to listen to a story.

“Ah. You meant that. That I can help you with the party you irresponsibly forgot about four times, because I don’t have anything better to do anyway, because I don’t have a girlfriend I’d claimed I had”.

She just nodded, sucking on her coffee like a thirst victim.

“That’s a… that’s a very sad story”, he scratched his right brow as his eyes shot somewhere above her ear, out of the window. He was daydreaming. His glance was calm, while his body started saying he was nervous.

“And you already seem pretty sad, so…”

“Go on. Distract me, please. And I’ll tell you a sad story, too. Let’s see who’s gonna kick ass in being sadder”.

Mal shuddered with a light burst of laughter. This, too. His sudden flashes of humor, when he laughed at things people usually don’t laugh at. And still, he was seemingly worth it.

“Okay. So, I dated this girl, Martha Hopps”.

“Martha Hoppus?”

He let out a clattering sound he made with his tongue that Y/N couldn’t understand the physics of.

“No, her last name is Hopps. She uh… moved to Mystic Falls. That’s kind of why I came here. I tried to land a job in the town, but nobody needed an IT specialist there, so I went for the closest place, which is”, he motioned towards Y/N as if suggesting her own office.

“You said, dated?”

“Yeah. But, I mean, I’m still in love with her. Obviously, otherwise, I wouldn’t be here”.

There was a change in Mal. Just as he started talking about the girl, his eyes went down, and Y/N couldn’t see the dark pupils anymore. His hands were rubbing each other, patting fingers, and he tilted his head. Y/N unintentionally felt her long-abandoned maternal instinct, kicking its way through her stomach like a crazed lion riding a tractor – for in front of her there sat a boy. His forehead was marked with three distinct, and somehow cute, sharp kisses of puberty; his skin was in need of sunlight, pale like milk, but soft; his boyish demeanor, the shirt with Van Halen logo, and a tacky bracelet on his left wrist – all that was a part of his pattern. He was suddenly fragile, like a petal.

“Her family… uh, they decided that I wasn’t worth her”, Mal looked up bravely, and Y/N withstood it.

“They separated us. Even before I could actually… you know, lay off my plans for the future, marrying and stuff maybe, you know?”

“What do you mean – separated?”

“Well, they brainwashed her big time. Her family together with friends, they are all kind of… religious fanatics”.

“Wait, Hopps, you say? Mystic Falls is a small town, I think I would remember a family of fanatics…”

She shuddered at the memory of that insane coven that was raging in the town five years ago. She couldn’t actually remember how they dealt with them; only that those were first class supernatural terrorists, witches bound on idea to kill all ‘abominations’ and release humans of Mystic Falls…

Mal shrugged indifferently.

“They moved in recently. I followed them. We met in uh, Ohio, that’s where I come from. Her father was like, you’re toxic to her. We wish you were never born. Whoosh. Next thing I know, she doesn’t talk to me. At first it’s like, Mal, I question your beliefs. Then, Mal, I think you’re cheating on me. I’m like, who told you that? Stupid, you’re the woman of my whole century. She’s like, my family knows. She…” he sucked the air through his teeth, “I think she loved me less that I loved her, you know? Sometimes it happens. She had to choose, and she chose them. Plus, there was so much whispering along the way, Jesus. The things they were telling her about me”.

Y/N felt she was swaying while sitting in her chair.

“God, why would they do that? You’re so cute”.

“I know, right?!” he exclaimed, feeling the connection. “It’s a case of… I suppose… loathing out of principle. I did one…” he licked his lips, staring absently through her desk. His finger froze in the air indicating the number One. “Maybe two bad things, and they’re like, that’s it! You’re going down, we’re going away, you’ll never see her again”.

Caffeine started to kick in, and Y/N found herself fixing her hair in abrupt movements.

“Well? And then?”

“And then they cut us in two”.

They both paused for a moment.

“What two bad things did you do?”

Mal sighed.

“I mean, no one’s perfect, right?”

“Oh god”, Y/N slapped the surface of her desk as the poisonous realization started to crawl into her brain. “Oh god, please, no. Please, Mal, tell me you’re not an obsessive psycho who’s been stalking a girl and beating people and saw nothing wrong with it”.

“Oh my god”, his pretty face grimaced, “Jesus, Y/N, I meant I stole her dad’s car once, and then I lied about my age! What… what kind of people do you hang out with?”

She wondered if he was having fun inside. This man, this pretty picture, was ineffable. He seemed to be saying exactly the kinds of things she wanted to hear. People, a wise man once said, were way worse than monsters. Monsters, beasts of the night, have a purpose. They have a code. People, on the other hand, are completely crazy.

“But you do look like a… like there’s a little doorbell in your head that goes off constantly… like you kill pets for fun…”

Mal stood up, lifting himself with both hands.

“Screw you, Y/N”.

She jumped.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mal”, she ran around her desk, trying to catch him as he walked out of her office. She clutched the hem of his shirt and scratched the skin on his shoulder with her nails by accident. Mal hissed in pain, but stopped. She had that weird sensation again, like a light zip coming through her body when she touched him. It wasn’t painful, didn’t bother her, but it was curious. That happened for the second time already, but they’ve been contacting hand to hand for weeks now. Passing each other things, patting on the shoulder, shaking hands in sealing the deals about cans of sodas…

He looked at Y/N like she was betraying all the laws in the world. His eyes were beaming warnings, but deep inside, there was also this frail shade of cold that unnerved her way more. She couldn’t tell if she believed even a single word he said. The guy often acted like a sociopath. His sudden outbursts of laughter, his trust in her that was childish if not alarming, and these stories. And yet, she wouldn’t let go of his shirt, until he shrugged her hand of, though, thankfully, pretty gently.

“You don’t believe me. You think I’m making this all up”.

“That’s exactly what a manipulator would say”, she blurted, and grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt again, just in case. The knuckles of her fingers perceived the warmth of his body. “Prove she exists, and I’ll get on board with you, and I’ll do anything to help you get Marta Hoppus back”.

“Hopps”.

“Right”.

“Bringing you coffee was a mistake. Your eyes a rolling”.

Mal stepped away and took out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.

“I meant to delete all, but I kept one picture of us, just in case”.

He stalled for a second before giving her the phone, like he was afraid to entrust her a treasure he’s been keeping. Y/N looked at the screen and saw Mal, smiling like he was a normal, happy guy, with a young girlfriend in his arms. He held her tight, with both arms. They took a picture in a big mirror, somewhere at a mall. She was kissing his cheek while managing to look in the mirror, too, and Y/N could see her face.

No, she’s never met that person, but the photograph was it.

“It was taken last year”, Mal said, as if reading her mind, “in Seattle. We were travelling”.

“I’m from Seattle”, Y/N said, absently.

She’s just realized she hadn’t been afraid Martha Hopps was not real; she had hoped for that.

“Dude”, she gave his phone back to him. Mal was watching her carefully. “If you love her, you have to fight. But I still can’t grasp the whole idea of them moving her from Ohio to… here”.

He scratched his head and gave the empty corridor a wandering look.

“Well, I’ve… you said yourself I’m a sophisticated guy…”

“I never said you were sophisticated, I said you’re weird”.

“Same thing. I may have a thing”.

“What thing?” she narrowed her eyes.

“I may have been diagnosed with ASPD back in the day”.

“I knew it!” her triumphant shriek was so sudden, Y/N dumbfounded herself a little.

“To be honest, I’m impressed you detected me in, like, twenty days”, Mal nodded, “people usually only see what the want to see”.

“I have a thing for serial killers”, she brushed it off with her hand, ignoring Mal’s fainting smile.

“Oh, Y/N, why does it always have to be that extreme with you. This guy never killed anybody, ever, in his life”.

“What will you do with her family when you get to her?”

Mal shrugged.

“I already got to her. I found her. I guess now you can call me a stalker. I don’t do creepy stuff”, he added, before she could open her mouth, “but she still doesn’t know her ex-boyfriend is here. Wanting to get her back very much. I don’t know. What would you do to people who took away the love of your life from you? Deceiving you both in the process?”

Mal was the kind of person you could tell practically anything. The man could take a joke and keep a secret. Now, though, as she started seeing him as a person with pretence instead feelings, that was all presented in slightly different light. Him being friendly to everybody, charming people the second he saw them, was his mechanism of infiltrating the community. Him sticking with Y/N and befriending her at first sight may have been his method of imitating social life and learn to cope. Even use her, maybe. He’s been living here for some time, with virtually no interest for the place itself, with the sole reason to be close to Martha Hopps; and he treated the whole IT thing like a joke. He was indisputably good at what he was doing; Y/N could see him run across these halls all day long, without a tired sigh; but this perfection in his performance was what must make one suspicious. He always ate at the same time, every day, and understood every joke and said all the right things.

The look he was giving her said cold. His brain was derived of emotion, and to think that this person could be loving someone was close to fantasizing. Y/N recalled the boy in her armchair, minutes earlier, hurt by the memories.

“I would tear them apart”, Y/N said. “If somebody took away the thing I love the most, I would tear them apart, limb from limb. But they’re her family, Mal”.

“So?”

“So, there are, you know, types of people to kill…”

His eyes narrowed.

“Wait. You’re talking seriously now? About tearing them apart?”

“God, well, I’m telling you the one hundred percent. Of course, in reality, you do less. But anyway, there are different types of close people. You can get away with separating your loved one from one type, but not from another”.

“I don’t get it”.

They started walking slowly down the corridor. Y/N couldn’t really tell where they’re going until she saw a vending machine prepped against the wall, and noticed Mal slide his hand into his pocket. He was hungry again.

“Say, you come to their house where they live now, and you choke them all. Theoretically. You don’t really have a right to choke people”.

“I know that, Y/N. I’m a bit sociopathic, much better than I used to be, by the way. It’s far from spree killing”.

“Yes, well, and what then? Where do you go from there? She may still love you, say, you talk everything out, and she realized that they had tricked her into breaking up with you. But even if you move on, go to another state, buy a house and live there, get married. You’ll always be the guy who killed her family”.

He stood at the machine, looking at the rows of packs. His face was highlighted by the pale light from the inside of the glass. Outside, the sky took on an orange shade of the closing sunset. She won’t get to it once again.

“And you think that’s fair. That you should just let it slide, all the things they out of hatred. You know, I’ve had a lot of that when I was a kid. I was always the bad child in the family”.

He put the coin in and pushed a button. Y/N couldn’t even watch the string spinning slowly, she was focused on Mal and what he does next. The cold shiver of realization went through her body. If he’s violent; if he’s aggressive; if he’s pretending to be her friend, all this trauma right now may make him act out. And Damon just won’t manage to run in here on time. She didn’t even have a pencil with her in case she had to protect herself. Y/N looked at his hands, lean, strong and pale, fingers, long and dexterous. Mal always touched and held things sturdily, to make sure they won’t escape his grasp. He never dropped anything and never made mistakes.

“You? You’re the bad child?”

“Uh-huh, I had this sister, she wa- she’s my twin. I say ‘was’ usually, because I haven’t spoken to her in years. She was better at everything. Better at school, at doing the chores, at turning on the TV, talking to people, understanding things. Feeling things. She was the good one, and I was always the defective brother”.

“Don’t say that”, Y/N snapped. Mal looked at her, surprised, and then squatted a little to get his pack of chips out.

“You know they were wrong, right? You’re a big guy now, you’re an adult. You must understand why adults do all that. You’re spared of fear they must have experienced”.

“That’s a good point. But it doesn’t help to know that. I still have hard time dealing with… crazy families. We’re going to the basement?”

“Why?”

“I have my speakers there, and we can make a playlist”.

“Right”.

Walking past the windows, they looked outside, at the orange sky.

“Tomorrow’s gonna rain”, Mal said. He tore the pack open with a loud rustling. “You want some?”

Y/N looked inside.

“I’m gonna puke if I put anything else in my mouth today”.

“That’s what she said”, Mal commented gravely.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #vampire diaries #imagine #legacies #whitmore guy

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pinkstarlightkryptonite · 3 years

Text

Dark Raiden part 3

*A few months later*light Raiden and Fujin come back to work I just came off work they both see me walk home from the base hoodie hat on to the corner drinking some water eyes red glowing sense them teleporting to the jenshi I was so tired formwork I went in the backpack and all dark Raiden watch for anyone coming sensing fujin shocking his brother and his past self fell on the floor same time as I back saw me back up as soon as I healed floated out they were mad at me sensed it found me as I went home light Raiden's eyes where red fujin ready to attack behind me as I opened the door attacked me*"Goddess how dare you to choose him before us now pay!"*I was scared and tired dark Raiden has taken over overseeing I was in danger floating working a lot with a whole mission for a month tired but had energy*"You fools my goddess will not be attacked by you we did all of it as a team without you!"*shocked them with red lighting future scorpion feeling my anger back at them attacked them lit they begged*"Please we did not mean It forgives us both we just want to have peace with all of you"*Dark Raiden did not take this lightly or future scorpion that would never happen to teleport away they went back in after going to sleep for me scorpion sees them at his door they were his enemies*"You had your chance now leave my home or face hellfire Raiden,fujin!"*they left scorpion's home weak went to the jenshi for healing seeing how they could make it better if they see me he sees me tired let me rest my mission was a lot with taking all the threats with the team of outworld understanding how it is got my backpack off in my comfort clothes*A few years later*I was going in to work I was grandmaster with him for afternoon classes for the clan got my stuff in my locker mask new gear form the threats a war hammer on my back I can get out with his magic with sandal Shang Tsung swords at my hip mask on there were new people scared of me at first but that was not the first time bracelet scorpion give me on me the lights turned on at the same time white hair princess style hat off in my hand having breakfast with my team taken off my mask then in my hand dark Raiden and future scorpion in me I still me a sweet person A warrior a mom to thunder and our clan jax looked at me johnny immated by me the milky eyes with red was scary had my meal then went to work mask off uniform on jacket sonya give us logo and name command cassie said*"Goddess how scorpion?"*I answered fist-bumping back*"He is going well cassie you?"*she replied back we were good friends with Sonya Jax johnny Jacqui*"Good goddess"*after had training as usual when light Raiden see me it was brief I was Earthrealm's protector with scorpion johnny asked*"Hey goddess you and scorpion married or not?"*l had his bracelet off answered getting some coffee on my lunch break sitting with him*"No johnny we feel like we are married with the clan and thunder"*drinking my hot coffee with some milk johnny not surprised we went back to work soon cassie sees the bracelet back on covered nails perfect*After work*got my backpack changed to comfortable clothes mask back on uniform put away folded left when I was done teleported near home and heard someone upset found them both light Raiden and fujin*"I saw goddess fujin only a little"*they both missed me*"I miss goddess brother I hope she forgives us"*I teleported behind them I forgive them with dark Raiden scorpion sensing me It came to me while meditating I have seen them upset and mad they could not be with me *"I forgive you both lord Raiden and fujin we all do"*they recognized it was me still in my work shirt on turned around hugged me a scorpion forgive them I hugged back happy tears of happiness*"Goddess I am glad I am so sorry we got mad at you that scorpion did"*light raiden said as fujin said*"Goddess Thank you so much we missed you"*I missed them too my war hammer was fine*"That is done with also missed you guys too"*there happiness was something they haven't had for a long lit now it's back no more thunderstorms or wind storms they came

beside me scorpion was at peace with them thunder now a adult training the new clan members hands on there shoulders smiling sensing them scorpion got down form the training area swords ready for training they all watched with light and fujin as 2 grand masters trained sub zero come with liu kang kung loa thunder was well monks too my friends form work got my swords ready we attacked scorpion almost got me but I fought back did the rope spear future scorpion said as It hit him*"Get over here!"*attacking him the gods with everyone did not know what to say got him down sword first hellfire around the area helped him up future scorpion went back in remembering my training as grandmaster sword back in same for him bowing in respect his bracelet in my pocket got it back *"It was a honor to fight with you grandmaster goddess"*I blushed taking my mask off in my hand*"Same for you scorpion"*cassie got that on cam with johnny everyone enjoyed it helped my down with a twister of fire we hugged held hands after we had dinner with the gods thunder hugged his dad and uncle mastered hellfire soon to be grandmaster*"Thunder you grown so much I am so proud of you"*fujin said proud of his son he had grown to be 6'4 and a good grandmaster he learned from his master has hellfire and lighting*"You had grown so much by the elder gods thunder"*he laughed*"I know uncle Raiden I love you both"*we were a whole family with the clan I taken off my weopens but my swords I was prep for any threat scorpion was the same thunder too we had celebration of the new bond of us held scorpions hand he held mine thunder did dishes went home tattoos showing he said*"Grandmaster goddess may I talk to you before you go home?"*I sensed his darkness taking over my hand on his shoulder his eyes were red with his hands*"Yes you may lord Raiden your darkness must be removed"*we walked to our room he relaxed and I held his hand felt his darkness so much fought it for so long time*"Goddess you must remove it for my sake it will bring you strength as the dark side we work together promise me"*I thought about it with removing his hat I see he was normal never this day he was more than scared*"You had my word with fujin as will work together to defend this realm I will do It now just relax rest"*he did I have taken his darkness lighting and hellfire fight it mentally after I did his darkness strengthened me sensed his darkness gone all this was in me all of it dark Raiden and I come stronger power increased light Raiden sensed it all gone calmed down his light is now in his soul I let go of his hand he got his self-care changed to his pj's he felt better made some green tea taken care of his hair all brushed gently fujin come in sensing me he appriacted this green tea nials taken care of clear top drinking the hot tea fujin seeing me help his brother remove his darkness then take care of his needs he was happy scorpoin sees this happy light raiden was taken care of by me he his nails dry*"Goddess I really appreciate that you did that"*I know he did we hugged purred fujin more than greateful*"I know you do lord raiden I do It to both of you"*I enjoyed being with them got them in to bed I made sure they got enough rest light raiden went to bed tucked him in*"Good night lord raiden"*he was comfortable It felt at home covers in him*"Good night goddess"*went to sleep closed the door and teleported home uniform ready for the next day feel better smiling he was full of light not darkness scorpion more than happy to have me*

#mortalkombatreact

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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Can I request Bruno's gang reacting to finding out their extremely feminine/girly fem s/o listens to metal music? Like, she's basically a stereotypical barbie type girl but loves some pretty extreme music lol 😂

Hello there, sweetie!

Boy this was so fun 😂

(under the cut for lenght!)

Bruno Bucciarati

He loves his s/o with all his heart, her and her extremely feminine tastes, her love for frilly cute things and her girly attitude. It’s like a fresh breeze that wipes the daily stress and worry away. He can’t restrain a smile when she storms in his office.

Little he knows that his Barbie-type s/o is a real proud metal fan. He finds it when his s/o calls him, begging him to come to pick her up because her car died in the middle of the street. He immediately drives to her, panic already clenching his gut. Was she hurt? What was she doing out so late in night? Did someone-

His wild thoughts freeze when he sees her, fine and well, and a group of her friends waving their hands at him to make him stop.

His s/o wears a t-shirt with a metal band logo proudly displayed on it, as her friends. Even her makeup, usually light and on pink nuances, is black and strong. He doesn’t say anything about it, he just checks her, to see if she’s alright, then picks her and her friends and brings them to their houses. Once they’re alone, Bruno notices that she’s fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, with a sheepish look. He smiles a little, capturing her fingers with his, and brings her hand to his mouth, lightly kissing her knuckles. “So, you like metal music?” at his girlfriend’s timid nod, he smiles again. “Then I know that to give you for your birthday.” In the end, his present is a ticket (and one for himself as well) for a big metal festival to which she would have wanted to go since long time. She has the time of her life and, surprisingly, Bruno too.

Leone Abbacchio

As his stand’s name suggests, Abbacchio is more for softer musical genres, as progressive rock. He, however, is open-minded and he’d try to listen to everything (the only genre he really doesn’t like is Narancia’s favourite, but more because the boy blasts his music too loud than for a real dislike). This said, he never, not even for an instant, suspects that his s/o could be a metalhead.

She is the exact opposite of him, with her frilly dresses, the light and pink makeup, her soft laugh and the sunlight that she seems to carry with her everywhere she goes. Abbacchio is head over heels for her and doesn’t mind at all her girly attitude that, to someone, can seem vain and shallow. He knows she’s not and doesn’t mind what the others think.

He found out about her love for metal the day they finally moved together. While he was packing some of her belongings, he noticed something that seemed out of place:it was Judas Priest’s “Defenders of the Faith.” He first labeled it as an album belonged to her father, maybe, but, when he found others metal bands’ albums, he understood that those albums were hers. He was surprised, since his s/o didn’t really seem the type to listen to a similar genre, but then he remembered that a book can’t be judged by its cover. He was even thrilled by it, he wanted to know more about her and, when he approached her with her albums in his hands and asked her if they could listen to one of them while they were packing, she was out of words.

In the end, Abbacchio finds himself to enjoy that kind of music and, when they’re alone, they listen to a mix of her and his albums, both enjoying each other’s tastes.

Guido Mista

He lives to see his s/o happy and loves everything about her, from her fashion style to her passion for pink and girly things. She loves him as well, she is nice and kind with the Pistols, what could he want more?

He always buys her little but meaningful gifts that she would surely like, since they are in her tastes range. It never occurs to him that, under the feminine and frilly features, she hides a true metal fan.

One day he arrived earlier to pick her up for a date, so he trotted to her door, thinking that it would not have been a problem. He stopped on his track when he heard a loud -and not the soft and angelic one he always imagined for her in his head- music coming from her apartment. He almost thought he was at the wrong door when he heard her voice perfectly singing the last words of “Hell’s Bells”. He then knocked at her door and the music abruptly stopped. Her red-faced s/o peered at him and his amazed gaze. “Babe, you know you have a wonderful voice?” his s/o was taken aback from his statement. “Are you not… annoyed by my music choices…?” “Annoyed? And why? They’re valid!”

Mista is not a person who judges someone by their music choices and he does the same with his s/o. Metal music makes her happy? Then he’s absolutely fine with that. Now he surprises her with some metal albums and gadgets of her favourite bands and the big smile she offers him is everything he needs.

Narancia Ghirga

He’s still bewildered to be loved by a girl like his s/o. She’s not annoyed by his demeanour and low education and she always supports him and his -often- crazy ideas with enthusiasm. Everyone thought it was just a crush and that soon it would have been gone away, but here they are, the Passione Soldato and the frilly, feminine to the bone and pinkish girl, more in love than ever.

They have a lot of matching things: the orange bandana (she decorated hers with a little cute bow), some bracelets and their MP3s. One day, Narancia accidentally picked his girlfriend’s MP3 instead of his one and he didn’t notice ‘till he was home -the HQ-, when he blasted his music, as usual. Instead of his usual rap songs, however, from the speakers came out Axl Rose’s high pitched voice singing “Welcome to the Jungle”. He was quite shocked by the sudden burst of electric guitars and immediately switched the MP3 off, before someone came to check him -mostly Fugo-.

He realized immediately that that MP3 was his girlfriend’s one and decided to snoop into it a little. His eyes widened when he saw that all the songs in it were metal or heavy rock. He expected something softer, like Britney Spears, Destiny’s child or Spice Girls, not Saxon, Megadeth and Guns’n’Roses! This, however, doesn’t bother him: on the contrary, he finds it extremely interesting, since it means that under her frilly appearance is hidden a wild spirit! When he gives the MP3 back to his s/o -she’s more than embarassed-, he just grins and compliments her for her music tastes. Maybe it’s time for Nara to widen his musical tastes?

Pannacotta Fugo

His s/o is the only person who has never tasted Fugo’s rage, not even an inch. Fugo finds her so adorable that he’s physically prevented from getting angry towards her. Everything of her, from her girly giggles to her Barbie-ish style, gives him peace and a sense of belonging. He really loves her.

After few months of relationship, she decides to introduce him to her parents, so she invites him to lunch at her house. Saying that Fugo is panicking is an understatement: he’s in a frenzy for all the week that precedes the lunch. For the occasion he leaves aside his infamous holed suit in favor of more normal clothes.

The launch goes pretty well, despite of Fugo’s obvious nervousness -that her parents find cute- and, after it, his s/o guides him to her room.

He freezes on the threshold of her room, staring at the many posters that decorate her room’s walls: Alice Cooper, Kiss, Pantera and a lot of other main protagonists of metal are depicted on them. Her room itself is a balanced mix of cute and girlish things and more particular objects. What enraptures his attention, however, is the big shelf furniture full of CDs, all metal and hard rock. He skims them, until he picks one: it’s “Love at First Sting” by Scorpions. He smiles fondly at her, who is watching him in silence, saying that that CD was one of his grandma’s favourite ones and so it’s tied to some of the few beautiful memories he has from his childhood. After that sweet admission, his girlfriend often puts that CD on and they both chill quietly, listening to the music.

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno’s girlfriend’s joyous and sunny attitude helps him a lot to be less stiffy. Even if he’s stressed and worried by his Don commitments, when she enters in his office he always smiles: it’s like the spring itself comes with her. He couldn’t care less about what the others could say, seeing a frilly and, apparently, vain girl with the Don of Passione. He deeply knows her and nothing could make him change his ideas on her.

He, however, doesn’t know everything of her, as he thinks: he has no idea that she loves metal music. He discovers it overhearing a conversation between her and Mista. The gunman was commenting a documentary about Led Zeppelin on the TV and Giorno’s girlfriend started a really long and detailed explanation about the band and metal. Both Giorno and Mista were kinda shocked by her vast knowledge about such subject.

A couple of days after the episode, Giorno gives her a little gift: a rare special edition of The Best of Led Zeppelin. His s/o is incredulous and, kissing his face more times, she asks him how he knew that she loves so much metal and, in particular, Led Zeppelin. He gives her his infamous enigmatic smile and just says that a “little bird told him so”. He’s absolutely not bothered by her music choices and even starts to grow fond of some songs.

#jjba #vento aureo #bruno's gang #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #giorno giovanna #fem s/o #feminine and frilly s/o #secret metalhead s/o #headcanons #sfw #anon ask

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 5 years

Text

The Package

Gif credit goes to the owner. NOT ME. @thegayfleet I think.

(Tom Holland x Reader)

Summary: Being in a long distance relationship is as difficult as it sounds, but Tom never fails to show you how much you mean to him.

Prompt: “I could kiss you right now.”

Warning: Fluff to the ends of the earth, description of bruises, a few swear words, one mention of some sexy clothing.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing ever. Constructive criticism is encouraged in comments. This is also for @lovelyspidey and @thelazypangolin ‘s February Writing Challenge. Fluff prompt 8: “I could kiss you right now!” Also, if there are any warnings I missed, please tell me. I also based the campus and the dorm layout off of my own college. I kinda went overboard with the gift box and rushed the ending, but you learn as you go. If the links work, you can see the items I’m referring too by clicking on the underlined stuff. REQUESTS are OPEN, and asks are open if you want to talk. BTW the bruises are my arms every Monday night after cymbal practice (it’s an 8 month long try out process). And I KNOW Valentine’s day was weeks ago, but college is hard, so bite me. Italics is Y/N’s thoughts.

Feb 14, 2019. 6:00 p.m. EST

First entering your dorm room since 10 a.m. Not ideal, yes, but you didn’t have to leave for the rest of the night. The weight the day brought upon you showed in your slouched posture as you entered your single room. Pros: getting a single in an all-girls dorm on central campus your freshman year was very lucky. Cons: You had no friends and the nursing building was a 20-minute walk away at least every day (except every other Friday). You unzipped your boots before you stepped too far on the rug and got it wet (unlike your mom). You decided against turning your radiator on in the middle of February since the warm air and peaceful atmosphere made you sleepy and you needed to get some work done.

By the middle of February, you meant Valentine’s Day. It has never been a bother to you before. Your parents and friends always gave you chocolate, once you got a marvel mug from your parents, and you were relatively fine. Also, you were a more of an introvert, never dated before, and was very socially shy. Since you had no one to spend it with, you always viewed Valentine’s day as a self-love day. None of your close friends ever dated before so there was no one to get jealous over, and as you said before you didn’t have friends at college, so it was fine. That was until about 7 months ago. Because 7 months ago is when you got asked out by none other than Tom FREAKING Holland.

You two had met in a karaoke bar during comic con season just after you graduated high school, but that’s a story for another time. After some nerves were shattered and some bad singing of Bohemian Rhapsody happened, he asked you (stuttering in the process) for your number at the end of the night.

You two had only met the other’s family over face time a couple of times. It was hard trying to meet up with Tom’s schedule being so busy with a bunch of different time zones and you having 18 credit classes to worry about. You don’t know if your family knew he was Spider-man. You know your Dad knew that Spider-man was Peter Parker, but you’re pretty sure he has not seen any MCU movies. You’re confident that the topic of occupations will come up sooner or later. Tom was staying in the UK for a few weeks before doing more promoting and filming, so you had to call him as soon as you got home from clinicals because it wouldn’t be Valentine’s day in the UK for much longer.

You opened your laptop that was still on your desk and tried to call the Holland Family. You honestly loved all of them as the brothers you never had. You just hoped they saw you as the sister they never had. The screen soon popped with your puppy-faced boyfriend. “Hey darling. You just get home?”

“Yeah. I swear to Got it’s snowed more in the past few weeks than it has in all of December. Not much went on today. We helped them set up snacks and played Legos with them.” The clinical you had was working with children after school in a lower income neighborhood. It was safe and decent and that’s all you could ask for. You stood up to get something from the shelf above your desk, revealing your navy blue scrub pants to the camera that had the Grey’s Anatomy logo on it. You could hear the snicker in his voice as you sat back down.

“Damn you look sexy.” This made you blush even redder than your cheeks were already. Any of his compliments had this effect on you, but he never called you sexy.

“I’m wearing scrub pants. It’s like LITERALLY the most unflattering thing you could pick.”

“You look sexy to me in anything” You’re pretty sure there’s now no difference in a rose and your cheek color right now.

“And even sexier in nothing. Oww!” You couldn’t see what happened until Tom turned the camera to reveal Harry sitting across the table doing something on his computer (probably editing some more photos) while Sam, Harrison, and Paddy were in the background by the kitchen counter. You gave them a wave which they kindly returned.

“Happy Birthday boys.”

“Thank you.” the curly redhead said. You were getting better at telling the twins apart. Harry was the curly redhead often doing anything with pictures. Sam had straighter hair that was slightly darker. They were both equally sweet, as were all of the Hollands.

“Kinda late to be saying that now isn’t it?” Sam snickers back.

“It’s late over there, but it’s early evening here.”

“Yeah, but we were born here, so.” He had you there.

“I got it in before midnight, so it still counts.” You loved all the boys. Their brotherly relationship, as tiring as it may be, always brought a smile to your face.

“The marching cymbals not give you too many bruises this time babe?” That’s when the other boys came from the counter to hover over Tom’s shoulder. You rolled up your left sleeve a little bit more to reveal a collage of red, blue, green, purple, and brown bruises above your elbow. They all cringed at the sight of them.

“The purple ones are where I pinched a blood vessel. The bruises on my abdomen don’t show as much, but they still are sore. Can I open the package you sent me now?” It was getting harder to hide your relationship from your parents, especially when Tom sends a Valentine’s package.

“Sure love. But first, there’s something at the front door for you.” It wasn’t difficult to realize that Tom had a smirk on his face and was hiding something.

“Okaay… I’ll be back.” You left your laptop open, grabbed your key cards, a jacket, your wallet, just in case, put on your flipflops and went to the front door of your building. Going down the three flights of stairs with sore muscles was still a challenge. When you finally made it to the front door, there stood a man from Panera Bread with your name on a delivery bag. He told you it was paid for over the phone, but you wanted to make sure it was Tom who ordered it and it wasn’t someone trying to poison you (that’s just where your mind went).

“Did you order this Tom?” Coming back into view of the webcam, you could see a proud smile paint his chiseled face.

“Yeah. You...you told me that this would be your perfect single Valentine’s Day...so.” You didn’t remember when you mentioned your perfect single Valentine’s day, but you were intrigued to see if he remembered what you said. You opened the bag to find White Cheddar Macaroni and the Bread Bowl Chicken Noodle Soup. Two of your favorite dishes. You were still in a state of shock, you barely registered what was happening on the other end. “Open the package.” You opened the box and opened a smaller styrofoam container. It had some ice and a Rocky Mountain Caramel Apple, one of your favorite treats that you only got around Christmas. The air had been sucked from your lungs as you kept a big toothy grin on. That was your perfect single Valentine’s day, Panera Bread and a caramel apple.

You opened the Jaffa Cakes, which Tom knows you love, and began to eat those as you went through the rest of the box. The man knows you love your fandoms. The rest of the box consisted of a Doctor Who cardigan, Shuri’s bracelet, a Black Panther Umbrella, a Captain Marvel tank top, a Supernatural pocket watch (because pocket watches are awesome), a Supernatural Shirt, and of course a Spider-Man hoodie. (The links weren’t working, so here https://docs.google.com/document/d/1i0PR1zfp4cFV26_8aHyNEM3yf5eY0K80c2RdQuoKBF8/edit?usp=sharing)

There were only two things left and you thought you couldn’t geek and freak out anymore. There was a long thin box with the words ��Don’t Open This On Camera’ written on it. “There should be one more in there.” You guessed he saw the puzzled look on your face and decided to push what you were thinking aside for the moment.

The last one was a small cube box and you didn’t think anything of it until you saw the other boys enter the camera frame again, all staring at you. You hesitantly opened the small cube to reveal a navy blue felt box. You could tell your vision was already getting blurry with tears and you tried to blink them back. It’s not that you were afraid of crying in front of the boys, you were afraid you were overreacting and it would turn out to be a prank, like a ring pop in the box or something. You popped the box open and what lay inside was simple, but a beautiful rose gold ring. One thread was rose gold and the other was covered in small white diamonds and the threads intertwined to infinity. The diamonds captured the light like the freshly fallen snow that was outside.

By now the tears were flowing freely, you had never been so open with anyone about your likes except your friends, but none of them ever bought you something this meaningful. “It’s uh promise ring.” You had completely ignored the other presence in the room at this point. You stared back into those milk chocolate eyes you fell in love with while your cheeks were stained with tears. “I know it’s early…, but I want you to be mine one day...if you’ll have me that is.” He avoided your eyes while trying to get the words out. You’ve never seen him this nervous.

You gently slid the ring out of the box and on to your left ring finger. How did he get the size perfectly? “I love it Tom and I love you. Jeez, I could kiss you right now.” He let out a chuckle and you could listen to that sweet melody all day. You lent forward and gave the camera a kiss. No matter how cheesy it was, you kissed him again and again. “Ok, now I definitely have to tell my parents about you. It wouldn’t be easy to lie my way out of this otherwise.”

“What did you tell your parents about me?”

“Well, I couldn’t straight up say I’m dating Spider-Man.” This gave a laugh from Tom and the boys in the background, who you assumed were still listening in. “I said I met someone a while back who is amazing, humble, and presentable in every way. We’ve been dating, but he understands that my classes come first and we only meet up a few times a month.”

“That’s what I told them?”

“It’s not a complete lie.” You say through your teeth.

“You didn’t lie. You just avoided certain truths to manipulate them.” That devilish smile was on his face that told you he was impressed with himself.

“STOP QUOTING SUPERNATURAL AGAINST ME!” This left you both in a fit of giggles for a while longer. It was late in the UK and you had to get homework done, so you said bye to the boys, Nikki and Dom, and one more to Tessa and Tom before kissing him through the screen again.

You started to put away the package and gifts before you remembered the Do Not Open Me package. You take out the long thin box and open it. It’s a single rose. Aww. He remembered my love for Beauty and the Beast. Wait… Why would a rose be in a box? You inspected the rose more carefully and gently graced your fingertips over it. It felt lacy. You started to pull at the petals until the whole rose came out.

“That little shit. Really Tom, sexy lingerie .” You smirked to yourself as you held it up. You knew you had to get him back somehow.

Taglist: @lovelyspidey and @thelazypangolin for their February Writing Challenge. I don’t really have a tag list at the moment, but I’m tagging @sippin-my-milky-tea because I made an effort to tell the twins apart. Also, @lamptracker is my main inspiration, so thanks! Send me an ask if you want to be part of the tag list.

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