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blackvelvetwriteson · 4 years ago

Note

Hey dear, it's me again, I wanted to say that I LOVED Holiday blues, it was so cute and I wonder if you could write a nsfw sequel, please? (only if you feel comfortable with it, otherwise feel free to ignore it).

Hi again! I love seeing your requests in my ask box it makes me feel amazing! I’m so glad you liked my writing, it means more to me than I can even express! I’ve got that request for you in; it was supposed to be done yesterday, but my tics were kicking in and I couldn’t concentrate- I hope this didn’t disappoint, and again thank you so much!

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

( ~ Kakashi Hatake x Black Female Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!

FANDOM: Naruto Shippuden

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUTTY! Kakashi’s not too kinky, but for today we have a breeding kink at play and light choking. It’s not too hardcore, but it’s still worth mentioning!

SUMMARY: This is a continuation of PART ONE and this time, Reader-Chan and Kakashi spend some time together after decorating the house for the holiday season.

Find Part 1 Here

WORD COUNT: 7572

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

You relished in seeing your boyfriend’s sleeping face before you walked back into the kitchen. In truth, you’d already started dinner since hotpots were generally dishes that took too long to make. You sashayed into the kitchen and turned the heat up a little before skipping to a small closet you had where you’d hidden some holiday decorations; candles, tinsel, wreaths, and statues of little angels in a small box, your eyes gleaming as you bit your lip excitedly. You kneeled beside the box still in your boyfriend’s getup, happy that he wasn’t pissed at you for wearing his clothes, smiling because you figured out that he was in his funk because he hadn’t been sleeping well. You moved quickly to make sure everything got done so that you could go pumpkin hunting, or maybe you’d ask Sasuke or Naruto to go see if there were any that even grew in this region, I mean “Village Hidden in the Leaves,” should have plenty of different plants and such right? You giggled softly to yourself as you took out a string of lights that you’d never gotten to use and you plugged them in and stretched them out completely, watching all of the purples and blues, magenta, orange, reds and yellows glow and illuminate your living room, though they couldn’t compete with how your bright smile beamed around the room. “Woah,” you whispered softly as you gently touched the dull tips of the lights, watching the reflection on your hand.

“I forgot how much I loved these things,” you laughed softly looking in the box, seeing how many more lights you had than everything else. “…. Apparently,” you say quietly as you bite your lip. You move immediately to playing holiday music quietly as to not disturb your sleeping boyfriend, and then you get to work after checking the hotpot which was still simmering quite nicely under its cover giving the house scents of sweetened soy sauce, garlic, meats and other ingredients. You danced around happily to “Mary Did You Know,” even though you weren’t necessarily religious, the holiday music of the time really brought out your festive interior designing skills. You skip over to your open window as the skyline turns purple and blue with the seafood greens fading a little more prominently now. You kneeled down and waved at the kids who loved to observe you- mostly because you were so nice to them and actually interacted with them- and they giggled and grinned, waving back in return, deciding to stay a little longer just to watch. They could smell your dinner and one of them even approached as you climbed on your window sill, weaving the first strand of lights through the curtain rod deciding that you’d add more later if needed. You swayed your hips to the music startled by one of the small voices and you looked down with a closed eye grin.

“Hey there! What can I do for ya today sweetheart,” you chime out happily as you look at the little girl and she smiles back up at you.

“U-Um oh yeah! Mrs. Hatake- Sensei,” she said softly and your eyes widened a little as you shook your head.

“Oh, u-uh honey that’s not necessary. We ai… We’re not married- yet,” you say softly. She nodded and corrected herself.

“R-Right… I-I’m sorry,” she said softly as she tilted her head. “How’s Ms. Hatake- Chan?” She looked up at you cautiously before proceeding. You gently pet her head and smiled a little, wiping a little bit of glitter off of her cheek with your thumb.

“That’s just fine sweetheart. What’s up?” You say softly as you sit down on the window sill with your feet hanging out of the window. “Just remember to keep it down y’all,” you say softly as you slowly moved one finger over your lips. “Kakashi -Sensei is sleeping right now,” you said cheerily while the other kids approached and surrounded you.

“O-Oh I just wanted to say that y-your dinner smells really good,” she said softly starting to scratch behind her ear under her pigtails. “A-And I was also wondering what’s that?” She pointed inside at the tinsel.

“Oh that?” You looked over your shoulder and smiled a little. “I’m just working on decorating the house… I mean… For the h-holidays. Where I’m from this is what we do and Kakashi- Sensei is letting me do it after a talk we had,” you say with a sweet smile as she nuzzles your lap. You gently pet her head while looking at the other kids. “Don’t worry your pretty little heads about a thing I’m gonna have something for all of y’all here soon. Actually,” you say with a soft grin, leaning forward as they gathered around. “Y’all can help me out right now. Y’all ever heard of a pumpkin,” you ask as you tilt your head. Only about 3 of them nod, the rest of them stared at you blankly ready to help you however you needed. “Y’all go with these three, they’ll show you, I promise. I’mma need about 4 or 5 of them, so if y’all work together and get some, I’ll have special treats for y’all by tomorrow night,” you say with a soft grin. Instantly they grouped up and set off in search of the pumpkins you needed all shouting “ARIGATO MS. HATAKE- CHAN,” at you over their shoulders once they were far enough away they thought they wouldn’t disturb Kakashi’s sleep. You watched until they were out of eyeshot, sliding back in your home and skipping over to the tinsel pile. You looked it all over and took a white tinsel string in your fingers, gently massaging the soft materiel through your fingers before hopping back up on the window sill, gently weaving the strand through the lights so none was obstructing the other.

“Ooh this is so pretty,” you whisper softly as you finished braiding the tinsel and the lights with the curtain rod, hopping down and dancing around a little more as the song changed to one you haven’t heard since you were little about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. You giggled again and gently twirled around the living room with a red string of tinsel and sashayed over to your fireplace, setting it up so that you could place candles on the counter inside of the tinsel. You also decided, while you were at it, to spark up your fireplace and turn your music up just a little. Your house already started to look more festive and you decided that, for the moment, you were done with the lights and tinsel so you didn’t overdo it. You gathered up some candles and some of the angel statues and you smiled as you hopped back over to your fireplace, setting the candles up in such a way that there was a fall one after a winter one surrounding the three angel statues you put up. You stroked their porcelain cheeks with your nail and hummed softly as you smiled a little. You sighed quietly as you hummed sweetly to the song, sparking up a couple of the fall oriented candles, not noticing that Kakashi had walked out of the room and closed the curtains and was now leaning against the wall staring at you with his arms crossed. You still swayed your hips slowly, deciding that there was a strip that could benefit from an extra string of lights, and because of said thought you made your way over to the box again, gently unrolling it and plugging it in. This time they were more neutral cream colored, your eyes glistening at the soft glow. “Woah,” you whispered softly as you wrapped the lights around your body and looked for something that you could stand on and a couple of sticky anchors that wouldn’t be too hard to take down after the fact. You licked over your bottom lip and hummed softly trying to look around for a chair.

Meanwhile, Kakashi had followed you closely and quietly, smirking a little, gently kissing your neck, taking you by the lights and pulling you back into him. You jump a little before you hear his voice and you smiled a little.

“K-Kashi,” you whined softly as you tried to fight your way out of the lights but you were tangled and you didn’t want to mess anything up. “Y-You’re s’posed to be sleeping,” you say as you look over your shoulder and peer at his vague smirk. “What’s that look for? So help me, I’ll force your ass back into bed,” you say with a slight pout.

“Shhh, baby,” he hushed softly as he kissed your neck again, gently allowing his teeth to graze your neck. Then he started to speak again, kisses punctuating every other word. “You know… I did get some sleep though… Right,” he said as his hands made his way to your hips and he pulled you in more. “You’re… Still wearing my clothes,” he said softly as he nipped at your ear.

“Y-Yea so? What about i-it,” you said shakily trying to stifle your soft whimpers. “Why aint you asleep again? Wet dream or something,” you tease before he nodded.

“Actually, yes. It started as nightmares… Then I eased myself back to sleep after reading a book… Then I started thinking about you and I woke up grinding against a pillow,” he said bluntly causing your skin to burn with a practically scalding invisible blush.

“I-IT WAS A JOKE,” you said as you turned your face away from him to hide as if he could see your blush even if he wanted to.

“Was it? Oh… Well, I wasn’t joking,” he said softly as he pressed his bulge against you and your legs started to shake a little. “Can you feel it? This is what you wanted.. Right,” he asked as he turned your head to look at him and his vague smirk grew a little less vague.

“K-Kakashi! B-Behave yourself,” you tried to command as you bit on the inside of your cheek. “D-Dinner should b-be done soon and I have kids that should be back soon… I asked them to pumpkin hunt for me,” you say as you fight your way out of his arms. “Can you please untangle me so I can go check our hotpot,” you ask as you spin on your heel and look at him. He just stands there with a challengingly teasing stare and then he walks over to the couch, tilting his head some.

“I’m sleepy, baby,” he said in that deep raspy voice he took on when he was both tired and turned on. You were practically dripping just hearing him talk, and as much as you would have loved to hop on him right there, you had to behave yourself. He stared at the fireplace and ran his fingers through his fluffy icy white hair and turned the TV on but had it on mute so you could listen to your music. “Everything looks good though.”

“…. Fine if you wanna be like that,” you grumble before looking around for something and you spot a small cup on the counter. “Substitution Jutsu,” you mumble under your breath, making the hand sign needed just barely before you took the place of the cup and the cup was in the tangle of lights. “You aint gotta be like that,” you say softly as you move to untangle the lights, extremely relieved that the cup was empty. You sighed softly and looked over at where your future husband sat on the couch, just waiting a moment to stare at him.

He had a pillow in his lap and his breaths were shaky and labored. You should’ve known that he’d take care of it himself, as he wasn’t much of a fighter when it came to things like this. He was too dense to realize when you wanted him and when you didn’t in actuality, and as a result, he never pushed because he never wanted you to be uncomfortable. He was only halfway paying attention to the TV, his eyes fluttering as he bit his lip and rutted his hips up into the pillow. His eyes glistened as he let out a sort of loud moan, his fingers digging into the cushion, his legs trembling a little as he moaned out your name sort of forgetting you were there in the same room as him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he tried to edge himself. You just sat there with butterflies erupting in your stomach, feeling your nipples get a little hard and press against your bra, and without even checking you knew that you were already completely soaked just hearing his smoky tone as he called out for you and only you.

You pulled yourself out of your trance before going to check on your dinner, catching an earful of Kakashi orgasming on the couch, his breathing stalled as he broke out in a fit of small moans that were a bit whinier than usual and you noticed that they were also a little louder. You bit your lip before looking down at all of the boiled ingredients and sniffed it causing your eyes to water a little. “Goddamn,” you whispered softly as there were excited knocks on the door. “Perfect timing because dinner just finished,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking all of the perverse thoughts out of your head before hopping to the door. “Hey babes,” you say to all of the kids as you kneel down to their height. Each one of the kids carried a big pumpkin and a little one. “Oh my goodness! Look at all of these pumpkins,” you say with teary excited eyes. You thought for a moment before looking over your shoulder at Kakashi who was standing over you with a sort of aloof grin on his face. “You guys can come in for a moment if you want, just to put the pumpkins inside and say hello to Kakashi- Sensei,” you say as the kids start to shovel in your house looking at the pristine festive wonderland in awe.

“Right there in the pantry will be fine,” you say with a soft giggle as you watch them neatly stack the pumpkins. They all give a bow to Kakashi who, in turn, bows back. The other kids bounded outside with giggles of goodbye to play a little bit longer on their way home while two kids lingered back in the house hearing Carol of the Bells playing in your home.

“W-What’s this?” The little girl says softly as she looks over her shoulder at you.

“Oh this? This is music… I hear you and your friends singing and chanting all the time… But this is a holiday song, actually it’s one of my favorites,” you say with a sheepish grin as you take the girl and her brother by the hand. Here, you guys can take a look around if you’d like,” you say softly as you look over at Kakashi. He just watched with that formal and withdrawn expression he usually carried, pulling his mask up once more around others. You led them into the living room and smiled a little at everything as the two kids looked around the room with dropped jaws.

You twirled the girl and she giggled as she stumbled into you and she looked up at you. You twirled the boy and he laughed softly as he looked around and then you started to sing, his eyes locked on you as you started to dance around with them in the living room.

“Hark how the bells sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away,” you sing quietly as you dance with the children who were giggling and swaying and with you. Kakashi had heard you singing before but only in soft mumbles, but as he heard you now singing and teaching the song to the children in the room, he felt a pang in his chest, his breath drawn from him, his eyes widening a little as he watched you dancing with the kids in your house.

“Merry merry merry Christmas, merry merry merry Christmas,” you giggle softly as you sing and the kids mimic you laughing and spinning around the room as you smile wide at the kids and your eyes fall to Kakashi to see if he was irritated or if he wanted you to wrap your little encounter up but you just saw his starstruck eyes absolutely adoring you as you started to dance around with a soft twinkle in his eye, an opaque smile on his face. You grin at him and lift the little girl onto your shoulders, her legs draped over your shoulders as she looked down at you dancing with her brother. Kakashi took the sight in and he sucked in a sharp breath trying to keep himself calm, wishing that these village kids were his own with you as his wife. He looked down at his feet and he listened to the chiming giggles and your soothing singing voice.

“Yeah! It’s just like that sweetheart,” you giggle as you teach the boy some basic footwork that went along with the song, and as most of the shinobi kids did, he caught on rather quickly and he started to sing having caught onto the song quickly. “Hark how the bells sweet silver bells,” you broke out into a fit of giggles before you could even finish the line. You picked the little boy up in the middle of his spin and twirled with them in the middle of the room letting him rest on your bicep. “Say, have you little ones had dinner yet? I think we have more than enough to share,” you say softly as you kiss the side of the little boy’s head and he looked away.

“N-Not yet… B-But we won’t intrude! We’ll get dinner on our o-“

“Nonsense,” you giggle softly as you dance your way into the kitchen with the both of the kids and grab a couple of bowls out of the cupboard. “We’ll feed you… I know you two don’t take too kindly to sleeping in other people’s homes, but just know that if you guys need a place to stay at least through some rain or through the winter or something, our door is always open to you,” you breathed out quietly as you kissed the side of the girl’s head and the little boy’s cheek, spooning a bit of the hotpot into the bowls for the both of them, leaving the heat on simmer. “When’s the last time y’all had a MEAL to eat,” you questioned as you grabbed out two pairs of chopsticks and took them over to the table and set them down in their chairs, their eyes sparkling as they accepted your chopsticks. You gently run your fingers through their hair before looking up at Kakashi. You walk over and lead him over to the table as well, pulling a chair out for him and gently pushing him to sit into it. You walk back to the kitchen, the center of his attention as the kids started to poke around their bowls with salivating mouths. “Well… I m-mean I guess it’s been awhile,” they both whispered before taking small bites.

Meanwhile, Kakashi’s eyes were locked on you, his eyes sparkling as he watched you make his bowl, his mind running. It raced with how natural you looked with kids, how when you walked he could tell that you could do everything on your own. He adored everything about you, how you don’t look at him like he needs to save you, with how you seem to always have a level head about anything and everything, how selfless and compassionate you were; especially when it came to the kids of the village. He let out a dreamy sigh as you walked back over to him with his bowl and a pair of chopsticks in hand. You giggled softly as you caught onto the gaze realizing this was one of the first times you were able to show him how good you were with kids. You set the bowl in front of him, handed him the chopsticks, hugged him from behind and gently kissed his cheek. “Let me know how everything tastes, alright? I’m not used to making Japanese foods, but I think I’m gettin’ a little bit of the hang of it,” you giggled softly as Kakashi leaned forward.

“That’s false. She’s an amazing chef,” he ‘whispered’ to the kids and they both giggled and nodded in agreement. Your heart swelled as you squeezed his shoulders gently and made your way back to the kitchen to prepare your own bowl. Like with everything you do, you did it with tact, your eyes glistening as you did so, quickly skipping to the table to meet with everybody else. Like usual, you took your seat next to Kakashi, one of your legs in your lap as you bow a little.

“Itadakimasu,” you whisper softly before stirring everything up, gently scooping up some food and nibbling on it with glistening eyes. “Oh wow… I don’t know how it should taste, but I think this is pretty good,” you say softly as you look at everyone with your friendly grin. Kakashi nodded a little and kissed your cheek gently.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said in that seductive tone of his. “This is VERY well done… And in this very… Comfortable home… I could get used to this,” he said with a soft grin, kissing your cheek gently, his hand resting on your inner thigh causing your toes to curl a little and your breath to waver.

“W-Well… I’m glad you like it, baby,” you say sweetly, kissing his forehead before pushing his head away so he could eat. The kids giggle as they quickly continue to shovel their food in their mouths, mumbling softly with mouthfuls of food in their mouths. “Hark how the bells sweet silver bells,” they managed to mumble before giggling softly. “I’m never gonna stop saying that,” the girl said quietly. You tilted your head a little and bit your lip a little before speaking up, brushing your curly hair out of your face. The glow cast through the home gave your skin a sort of golden aura and Kakashi couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He bit his lip and continued to eat, that same distant expression on his face upon first glance. You looked at the kids and your heart melted at how they teased each other, how they were so close because they didn’t necessarily have anywhere else to go.

“You both are precious,” you say under your breath as you noticed they were close to finished eating. “Did y’all want some more or are you both good to go?” You stood up and grabbed their bowls and took them over to your sink, grabbing down 2 thermos jars and 4 large mason jars, filling every container to the brim with the remainder of the hotpot.

“I think we’re okay Ms. Hatake-Chan,” the boy said softly as he hopped down and he helped his sister out of the chair. They made their way to the door and you stopped them with frowning faces, kneeling in front of them with the armful of containers you prepared for them. “H-Huh?”

“Do you little ones have names,” you asked softly as you looked at each of them in the eye. They both shook their head and you sighed softly. “Alright… How about you,” you point to the girl. “We call you Lily-Chan because you’re as pretty as water lilies,” you say and that causes her to giggle and play with her fingers. “And you,” you pointed to the boy. “How ‘bout we call you… Sora- Chan, because Sora means universe in Japanese if I’m remembering correctly… And there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, in this universe that’s greater than you,” you say softly as you kiss their foreheads gently and slide the thermoses and the mason jars in their bags. “I hear it’s supposed to be cold tonight, so you guys take care of yourselves,” she said as they both fought back tears. Lily and Sora stood side by side and bowed holding their hands and sniffing quietly.

“Arigato gozaimasu Ms. Hatake- Chan,” they said softly and you picked their heads up to make them look at you.

“You’re very welcome darlings,” you said quietly as you fluffed their hair and opened the door for them and smiled watching them walk out of your home. You made sure to wait until they were out of eyeshot and then you closed the door and looked over your shoulder at Kakashi who’s arms were crossed as he stared at you.

“You’re… So… Amazing,” he said slowly as he pulled his mask down and moved his icy white hair out of his face so that you could see him completely.

“W-Well… I mean… It’s just being a decent h-human being and caring for them kids.. I always do anyways… And it looked like they hadn’t been eating. I didn’t invade space d-did I? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own home either.

“No no no,” he said softly as he took you by the waist and pulled you closer. “If anything it made me realize that much more how bad I want to have a family with you,” he said before pressing a soft kiss into your plush lips, his tongue wasting no time, swiping over your bottom lip, soft groans escaping his lips. You whimpered softly, gently pushing your hands against his chest, allowing him to have the lead. He pushed you into the door and he bit your lip more rough than he had before. You whined as you ran your hand down his side and his back on down to his thigh, trying to force his leg in between yours. He smirked against your lips, his breathing slow and labored, soft growls threatening to spill out, his eyes halfway opened staring at you. His leg slipped in between yours and you immediately started to grind against his leg, his breathing only picking up a little, his free hand now running up your shirt, unclipping your bra in one slick move, his hand gently groping your chest as he let out low moans. His enthusiastic hand worked at teasing your nipples, his teeth bore at you a little as he watched you grinding needily against his stocky thigh. “You like that? Hm? G-Grinding on Sir’s thigh like that,” he said as he jolted his leg up into your cunnie causing your back to arch as you let out a soft cry.

“Answer me, baby,” he said softly as he bit his lip, one of his hands moving to grip your neck, his finger squeezing a little as he growled near your ear. “And tell me how much you want me inside of you,” he growled before he bit the shell of your ear causing you to gasp, your core hot as you felt you became even more soaked, your lip quivering to the point that you could barely even answer.

“I-It feels so good, f-fuck~ K-Kakashi,” you whined softly, gripping to his shirt. “Baby!~ F-Fuck- P-Please keep teasing my nipples like that, sir,” you whispered softly looking up at his keen gaze staring into you. “I-I want t-to feel you inside of me,” you whined softly before reaching to kiss him again wanting to feel his satiny smooth tongue in your mouth again. You felt extremely needy, your legs damn near giving out under you. “Baby!” You threw your head back and leaned into him, your hips jolting into him, his eyes glistening as he looked you over. He picked you up and took you over to the couch, tossing you on the couch before crawling on top of you, gripping your neck again and pushing you into the couch as he peered down at you. He started to grind into you wanting your legs to pull him closer, trying to fight through his sensitivity just to please you. He couldn’t wait too much longer, however, lifting the shirt you stole from him, his lips locked around your nipple as he lazily pushed his pants down and he pulled yours down too, one hand kneading your breast as his fingers pushed themselves in between your legs, his slender fingers plunging into your tight dripping hole. Your back arches a little and you let out a loud whine as your legs’s hold on his hips firm a little and he smirked a little, the tips of his fingers stroking against your special spot without any effort from him, and every single time his fingers curled up, your toes curled too, and so did your back. Within minutes, the accuracy of his fingers; the pressure, the stroke of his fingers, the way it swiped right against your sweet spot; had you a babbling drooling mess underneath him and the only thing that you could mumble out was “Sir please,” and “More!” He felt how you clenched around him, slowly and surely losing control of your babbles, whines, and loud moans, already practically crying because of how overstimulated that g-spot of yours it. Your legs were trembling and already you were teetering on the edge of cumming for him, but you wanted to hold out for him. He saw how much you were struggling with just his fingers and with one swift movement you were sitting on his face, one leg hanging off of the couch.

OH, it’d been awhile since THIS had happened.

You couldn’t even ask a question or catch your breath before you felt his slick slippery tongue enter you, probing your insides to find that spot you loved to have stimulated so much. Your thick thighs suffocated him practically, but you didn’t care, his shaky breath against your drenched throbbing pussy only added to the feeling. Your back arched with each time his tongue fell flat against your slit and lapped up every single las drop of your juices, pushing hard against your clit before diving deep inside of you once again, sucking you down before cleaning you up again, repeating the process all over again. Each time, your leg jolted, your abs tightened, your nails dug into his thighs- making his cock twitch in his pants just for you- and you threw your head back trying to keep your moans quiet but failing. “K-KAKASHI! P-Please I ca-can’t take a-anymore o-or I’ll go c-crazy,” you whined out loudly as you started to bounce a little on his face, your whole body tremoring as you came over his face and his tongue. He decided that a soft laugh and his teeth gently nipping and tugging at your clit would be perfect for the moment and all you could do was orgasm, your eyes widening before clamping shut, your breaths drawn out, your hips grinding into his face, your hand squeezing and stroking at his bulge causing him to push his airy soft moans into your pussy as his tongue continued to circle and plow at your insides. He loved how it felt to have you clenched around his tongue, and he loved especially how it felt to have your throbbing clit grinding into him, your hand pleasing him as he tongue fucked you. All of his lewd noises made it back to you, his slurping, his moans, and the faint drunken mumbles of your name he managed in between bites and sucks, the way his tongue stirred you up making you practically fall apart on the same couch he pleased you on. At this point, you were still cumming, and you couldn’t stop, but the fact that he wouldn’t let up either was new so you weren’t quite sure how to handle it. Your body tried to jerk away from him, your hips jolting up and away from him, your tears streaming down your face as you mumbled please over and over and over again wanting him to stop but wanting more at the same time. He only responded with a harsh slap to your ass before locking his arms around your waist and holding you down on him while he finished basking in your flavor. You figured the only way to get him to stop was to return the favor, so while he was busy eating you out, you took his cock in your hands, sucking on the plush tip that was dripping with precum already. He let out a soft moan into your cunnie and you felt his back arch under you, his cock twitching in your hands as you swirled your flat tongue around his tip to collect any of the escaping precum, your fingers steady stroking the rest of his length, your fingers feeling out every single vein and detail as you continued to try and jerk your hips away from Kakashi’s face. You couldn’t help but to let your moans and harsh breaths dance on his cock as you pleased him and he pleased you. You completely ate his flavor up, your eyes glistening before they shut and you continued to ride his tongue. You sucked hard, your cheeks hollowing out causing his back to arch even more, his dull nails trying to work into your thighs as you teased him by the inch, your tongue pressing him into the roof of your mouth which drove him absolutely insane. He whined out as his legs jerked a little, his arms not budging with letting you go.

“Please,” you whine softly. “I-Inside,” you slurred out as you took him all the way down your throat, gagging around him, making sure your throat choked his cock out. His eyes glistened as he looked down at you, gagging and choking on his dick, his hips jolting trying to get in deeper but he couldn’t. It got to the point where you felt you were going to pass out so you stopped and came up for air, your soft whines barely audible to him. You tried your best to hold your noises but you couldn’t, squeaking as he pushed you forward a little. He hugged onto you as he slid himself inside, his lips pushing out his soft shuddery moan into your ear as you arched your back and slowly started to push yourself back on him. He already felt like he was going to pass out just from how well your throat choked his cock out and you couldn’t help but to bury your face into the couch as Kakashi gyrated his strong hips, grinding you into the palatial cushion. You couldn’t help but to push yourself back against him, even the slow pace he was known for about to make you cum again. He reached deep inside of you, and you forced him to go even deeper as you grinded your hips against him. He reached under your hair and grabbed your neck from behind, squeezing gently as he leaned forward again to nibble at your ear, whispering sweetly to you, your eyes barely even able to stay open. You clenching around him made him see stars, practically drooling over you, but while you couldn’t keep it together, he had to in order to drive you all the way to home base with pleasure.

“Do you l-like it like this,” he whispered quietly in your ear, his labored breaths and soft moans melted into your ear again as he slowed down even more, his hips still strong as he reached inside of you. “H-Hm? A-Answer me, Blossom,” he commanded as he pulled your hips against him and held you in place feeling your slick riding all the way down his cock, his back arching a little.

“P-Please, Sir,” you whine out quietly barely even able to speak that’s just how braindead you were from how much pleasure you were receiving. “M-More! N-Need… More,” you gasped out and he smirked with a soft hum of approval, his hands gripping the arm of the couch now as his legs became a little more stable and solid, his lips still touching your ear, his teeth nibbling away at the outer shell, his eyes glistening as he edged himself at your expense. You looked over your shoulder at him and he truly looked like a divine icon; the way he started to rock into you, a small bulge forming in your stomach because of it, the way every single one of his muscles flexed with even the smallest move, the way that the candles, fireplace, and the faint light from the TV cast a glow on him that was unmatched, carving his features out more, his body blanketed by a body of sweat, his expression quirked with how well you clenched around him.

“I want you,” he mumbled softly in your ear, his speech and breathing short and choppy as he pounded into you a bit quicker, not meaning to be as rough as he was. “I w-want to e-expand our family,” he breathed out as his moans became more needy, his hips slapping against yours sloppily. Honestly, this was the fastest he’d ever fucked you, and at this point you were stuck seeing stars with your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your golden glow cast by the lights around you only making Kakashi more aroused. It was obvious that he was way more vulnerable, you could hear it in his moans, feel it in every single movement that he made, you saw it in the way that one of his hands moved from death gripping at the arm of the couch to tenderly slap, tug, and caress your beautiful brown skin. Tendrils of his hair fell just before his eyes, his eyes halfway closed, his body encompassing your own as you both fell into a quick rhythm. Your body was on fire with his next words, your eyes widening and glistening with tears that fell down your cheeks from how good he was making you feel; “I-I want to ma-marry you,” he groaned out in a choked moan before he slowed to an almost stop and he turned your head towards him, gently pressing his lips against yours again, his hand riding your side as he tried to catch his breath, his fingers feeling over your soft stomach, all the way up to grope at your chest so gently, even as your back still arched up into him. You both were a mess of moans, drooling over each other as you tangled your tongues, your teeth nipping at one another gently, your hand on one of his, your eyes now completely closed as he pushed you into the couch more, your clammy bodies trembling against one another before pulling away just to stare at each other.

“Please,” he said softly as he started to pound into you again. “I’m g-going to cum… D-Don’t look away from me,” he said softly, his glazed eyes holding back tears as he gritted his teeth a little. “I want t-to look in your eyes as w-we watch each other… F-Fall apart,” he choked out quietly, towering over you, tilting your head up so that you were staring at him. He fed you sloppy kisses as he pushed against your special spot, and it took another hard clench from you to send him orgasming again, his teeth clamping down on your lip before he pulled away, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his body quaking and vibrating the whole couch as he allowed his body to tense up, his hips to slam into you one final time, sharply chasing after air that didn’t want to come down, choked moans leaving him, his lips barely brushing against yours as he reached his climax, painting your insides white as they overflowed with his cum. Your own body gave out as you came, pressing your body up against his, your nails digging into his hand, your eyes crossing as you drooled out, screaming out his name, your trembling body falling against the couch as you allowed Kakashi to gently and slowly ride out his high, every single stroke hitting you at a different angle making your body twitch and tingle before you felt him pull out. He watched his cum mix with yours as it spilled out of you and he smiled at the bulge he could feel with his tender fingers as he caressed your body. He laid down behind you, his muscular body now completely relaxed as he just tried to catch his breath. He looked up at the movie playing on TV, spooning you from behind, covering the both of you with the throw that you decorated the couch with earlier. His strong arms made you feel protected, and when you were like this, both of your guards were let down and you let the love that you had for one another protect you both. His fingers danced over your skin and he moved your hair as he gently fed you kisses to your neck, your shoulder, and the top of your back as you absentmindedly played with his fingers and watched the movie that was on TV; which by the way was Home Alone.

“I meant what I said,” Kakashi chimed sweetly in your ear and suddenly those butterflies were back in your stomach. “I want to marry you, Blossom,” he whispered softly. “I want you to be the mother of my kids… I want to spend the entire rest of my life with you,” he said softly, sounding like he was about to cry. You heard his breath shake and you could tell his sincerity and that made your heart absolutely melt for your man.

“I would absolutely love to be Mrs. Kakashi Hatake,” you say softly, leaning your head back into his body, your eyes peering at him from below. He looks down at you, a blush nipping at his cheeks as you giggle softly, your hand reaching up to caress his tensed jaw. “And I would love to mother your children… I want you,” you echoed back to him softly, a small smile showing itself as he held your hand against his face. He couldn’t do anything but allow himself to truly fall apart, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let himself cry quietly, still kissing your shoulder and neck whenever he could. “Aww… My beautiful boyfriend,” you whispered softly, gently playing in his hair as he wept into you, clinging to you, trembling, completely emotional, raw, and vulnerable. You adored that he trusted you enough to show this other side of himself to you, and you also relished in his confessions to you, having never been told such sweet things before. “Is that what you were thinking about when I was taking care of Lily and Sora,” you ask sweetly, smiling at him over your shoulder. He looks up at you with puffy red eyes, smiling just a hint as he nodded at you.

“It’s just… How you… Always look after people, especially kids I just… I admire it a great deal Blossom,” he said softly as you giggled. “You invited them into your home, and danced around with them… And fed them and gave them food… And opened your home up to them…. I can’t just… Ignore that. Especially because you’re the life of this village,” he chimed softly. “I have never seen these people so hopeful or lively… I have never seen the kids so open to playing outside… I have never seen people support each other here like they do now until you got here and spread a little bit of your magic around… And yet nobody takes care of the village kids… Ever. You love them, I can see that, and they love you too. Every day I have people coming to me; ‘hey can you tell Ms. Hatake-Chan thanks for’ this that or whatever,” he said softly, his eyes peering deep into yours and you tried to fight back your own tears. You didn’t realize how much of a role you played in the village because it didn’t even feel like a chore. It was what came natural to you, and you loved that you could create such a difference in just a couple of years.

“I’m just doing what I love to do,” you whispered softly as you kissed along his jawline. “I love you so much, Kakashi Hatake,” you say as you lull him to sleep again, not wanting to until he was at ease. You sat up a little and allowed him to use your chest as a pillow, his arms still holding you tight, keeping you close, and you never felt more safe. “You’re my king… And I’m your queen… You’re all mine, nothing’s gonna change that,” you whispered softly as you watched his eyes close.

“I love you too,” he mumbled sleepily, a small half smile creeping on his face as he slipped off into dreamland and you divided your attention between the movie and your sleeping boyfriend wanting to watch both of them over until you allowed your drowsiness to take over completely.

#requested #naruto shippuden #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #kakashi x reader #kakashi smut #kakasi hatake lemon #naruto shippuden x reader #kakashi headcanons #kakashi imagines #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi hatake x black reader #black reader #black y/n

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crushzone · 4 years ago

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Nin! I’ve been seeing this around recently, but I would love to see you ship your moots if it is ok! ♥️

Hahaha hey there, sure thing! It’s so difficult to be bias free because I know my moots’ crushes, but I shall do my best! I’ll mostly likely pair you guys with someone outside of your crush, just to introduce some new potential partner to your life ;). If I had left anyone out by accident, I am SO sorry!!

✨ Shipping my Moots ✨

@scorpiosanssexy

Sugawara Koshi - Lil sis, I am so sorry it is not Kei. I think Suga is absolutely hilarious and a sweetheart, I’m sure he loves it when you roast him here and there because he’d do the same right back at you. He’s also such a sassy man, so if sassiness is something you enjoy (*cough* like Kei’s, except he’s not a meanie 😠), he’s got it! If you do not know how to cook, neither does he, but you will get to suffer together. He’s also a teacher (which I know is also your thing), so let’s pretend he had to read so many books that he has to eventually get glasses! Will 100% dance real silly with you when you’re both tipsy, but please try to calm him down when he keeps getting ID’ed whenever he tries to buy booze, he’s got that forever cute baby face.

Look, I photoshopped him in glasses for u. ☝🏼

@ceo-of-daichi

Takeru Nakashima - Tbh, it was really difficult not to go with Daichi for this one. I know Takeru may not suit your appearance preferences, but I think you guys would be a very adorable pair! He is very family oriented, had grown up with a bunch of siblings, is a team captain (i know u like captains 😉), and seems like a sweet guy in general. So he will 100% be a fun pal to joke around with, but he’s also really responsible and will take care of u on your night outs. I can see you with his little family cheer squad, they are all just in love with you and consider you a part of their family. 10/10 husband material with that A+ domestic lifestyle.

@honey-makki

Saeko Tanaka - I shall pair you, my queen, with my other queen, Saeko. 👑 Together, you are unstoppable, and just the sight of you both hanging out together would make me run away because I tend to do that whenever I am near anyone attractive. Imagine Saeko picking you up on her motorbike just to go grab some dinner downtown together. All the jokes you’d share, how loudly you would laugh with each other, regardless if whether you are in a public or private place!! She’d probably help you proof read your fics and brainstorm any spicy scenarios with you too! Bet she loveees having you lay on her chest as she strokes your hair, alternatively, she also loves being your big spoon. 🥺

@heauxzenji

Kuroo Tetsuro - My other queen, I shall offer you my nerdy king, Kuroo. 👑 Idk man, appearance-wise alone, I already think you’d both be such a beautiful pair. You two are definitely the type of couples on Tik Tok (or whichever apps people use now a days LOL 👵🏻) with a bunch of “relationship goals” in the comments. He’d be a lot of fun to joke around with, will take great care of you, loves to smack your booty (respectfully) because he knows you are absolutely beautiful, and will call you the cutest nicknames. He also secretly reads your spicy fics without telling you, and will maybe try out a new thing or two from it the next time u guys baaaaang. 💥Spiciness aside, he cherishes all your quiet moments, just sitting next to each other as you sip on some tea, your books in hand as you lean shoulder to shoulder against one another.

@tedwardos

Azumane Asahi - idk, I think you both would be incredibly adorable! He is basically kind of like Yams but with a whee bit more softness. He absolutely loves to cuddle, play video games with you (but please go easy on him, he’s a little scared of certain games), and learn new things (e.g. playing DnD for the first time). Tbh, I think he would be great at DnD because he enjoys the imagination and character design aspect, bet his characters are always the best dressed one. Will help style your hair, cook you breakfast, give you shoulder massages, and just spoiling you in general, as long as you hold him close and tell him you love him every now and then to keep him well assured. You’ll never get cold during winter, he’s basically a human furnace who always make sure your feet are covered by the blanket when you cuddle on the couch.

@nonexistent-social-life-mainacct

Akaashi Keiji - I genuinely think this would be a wonderful match. Firstly, he is a wonderful listener, so he’s there for you to come home to after a tough day at work. If it is not something he can actually help you with, he will do his best to cheer you back up after you had gotten everything off your chest. Secondly, look at this 👇🏼

Girl, he will PROTECT you from all those mysterious bruises that tend to appear on your legs haha. Lastly, I know that when he loves someone, he will do all these adorably thoughtful things for you: like massaging your feet, leaving you cute post-it notes before he leaves for work and buying you flowers randomly. I just, I just want the best for u and I KNOW Akaashi will not disappoint at all.

@mer92

Tadashi Yamaguchi - ok hear me out! Baby boy had been crushing on you from a distance for the longest time, he just absolutely admires how you are so hardworking and passionate towards your dream job. He sees how much you care for your friends and he’d always wished he could be a part of your group too. Eventually, when you are both together, he is a wonderful listener, will go out of his ways to spoil you just to see you smile again. He will give you shoulder massages when you are being too tense, and if anyone gets in the way of achieving your goals, he will step up and defend you. Will also buy extra onigiris from Onigiri Miya and bring them to u for lunch, just to make sure that you don’t accidentally skip any meals because you’re too laser focused on your studies! Speaking of studying, he loves studying with you, and is actually a wonderful work buddy. (Always sneaks a glance at your adorable concentrated face)

@danibby

Kotaro Bokuto - Bokuto ADORES you with all his heart omg. When he catches you dancing or choreographing, he will straight up sway or beg you to teach him some moves, before proceeding to absolutely crush it. If he sees you trying out or applying some makeup/skincare products, he will ask you if he could watch or play with it too. Basically, he loves you so much, he just wants to understand and be a part of what you are doing, while he’ll also do the same where he’d teach you the little things he loves to do (will probably try to get you to play volleyball with him ahah). Is fantastic at cheering you up when you are not feeling too good about yourself, and will tickle fight you until you smile for him. Speaking of tickle fights, initiate it at your risk, because he is hella strong, he’ll pin you down or pick you up really easily to his advantage. BIGGEST HYPE MAN, you can walk out, wearing a trash bag and he would still be 😻😻😻.

@shhhlikeme

Aran Ojiro - I know I’m not being too original with this pairing because you actually crush on him to begin with, but you two are just perfect for each other tbh (was going to pick Toshi at first, but thought Aran would be a better fit)! Firstly, you are both absolutely S T U N N I N G ✨, I would be SO intimidated to come anywhere near this power couple. Secondly, you’re both so diligent, kind, and smart, everyone looks up to the two of you, wishing they could be you (Keep wishing, peeps 💅🏼) . Lastly, he seems like an absolute sweetheart, loveeeeees to spoil you with random hugs, kisses, and gifts, and will joke around with you a lot. He’ll find any way he could show you off to his friends, and they’d all be so jealous. It is nice to know that you can always lean on him if you ever have to, and he knows he could do the same with you. Bet your family absolutely LOVES him too, 100% the kind of guy you would want to bring home.

@bjbex

Yu Nishinoya - Noya is IN LOVE with you, he thinks you are freaking beautiful, is a hottie, and basically his queen. He’d keep crushing on you until you finally give him a chance. When you are together, he’d do anything to please you, ultimately, he just wants to see you smile and happy all the time. He’ll crack some jokes and be a little goof just to cheer you up! Also wants you to freaking DOMINATE him hahahah, trusts you completely, please do as you would like, he’s all yours. Loves getting his lil booty smacked and pegged, but is also always down to pleasure you. Just grab him by his hair (loves getting his hair pulled) and put him in any position you want him.

Will pull some “accident” like this often, so please prepare yourself. Will travel the world with you and take a ton of photos, then proceed to set photos of you as his wallpaper/lock screen on every device.☝🏼

@dymphnasprose

Tendou Satori - Tendou ADORES YOU, for real, he freaking ADORES you (But I adore you more, so he can back down 🤚). He loves to be your little spoon (will literary purr if you give him head rubs), boasts about you to his friends all the time (especially to Toshi), likes to endearingly tease you a lot, and will cook you some nice food all the time (he probably went to culinary school, after all, to become a chocolatier). The first thing he does when he gets back home from work? Hunt you down and immediately cling on to you as he pepper kisses all over your face with that oWo face, if ya know what I mean. Also LOVES to get freaky, this man is flexible, he just loves being intimate with ya, so tell him what you want to do and he will most likely be down to at least give it a shot. ;) Also loves to randomly buy you some cute clothes or jewelry you had been eyeing, he doesn’t do it often, but he’ll spoil you with it here and there when he can. Loves to sing random songs for you, “Dymph-nuhhh, Dymph-nuhhh, my darlin, Dymph-nuhhh~~”

@pleasantanathema

Akiteru Tsukishima - Let me start off by saying that I am absolutely in love with Akiteru, and because I love him so much, I shall pair him with you! Lauren, I am in love with you from the very first moment you’ve hit me up, I feel like our vibes match and because I feel the same way with Akiteru, I believe he would really vibe with you too! He’s an absolute sweetheart who will go out of his ways just to make you happy, you’d both spend hours chit chatting about the most random things, just giggling constantly, and before you know it, it’s already really late at night. He LOVES taking photos of you, and his phone is filled with photos of the two of you. Kei doesn’t really care much about you, but Akiteru will keep bringing you up in conversations with him anyway because he’s just extremely grateful to have you in his life.

@afictionalwhore

Ittetsu Takeda - Listen, as much as I believe Keishin is the perfect man for us you, Takeda is another husband material, adorable man who would also be just as perfect.

LOOK AT HIM REALIZING THAT HE IS IN LOVE WITH U. Also Keishin looking like a snacc right next to him, but this post is not about him mmkay?

Takeda is so weak for you, he’ll spoil you rotten where he can, and his affection bank is unlimited, will constantly remind you that he loves you. He’s also really shy, so sometimes, he’ll try to be “sexy” and initiate something, only to stutter and blush terribly when he attempts to execute it, so please be kind HAHA (I think find that really endearing tbh). Fully understands how tiring it can be to work with children, he is also a teacher after all, so at the end of each day, you’ll both take warm baths together, cuddling as you laugh about all the silly things your kids had done today. Sometimes he will help substitute for you too, if you ever need to take a day off.

I’m very proud of this list, ngl, I stand by my ships 😉

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polandspringz · 4 years ago

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Request: something about Glory & Asmo vibing . maybe painting each others nails . ill pay u

I know you already got to read this when I finished it, but here you go!!!

Title: Always at the Right Place, at the Right Time

Summary:

Whenever Poland invited everyone to the Human World, there was never any actual obligation to hang out with her. At least not for Glory. Any adventure were moments reserved for them, the Avatar of Lust and the Avatar of Vainglory.

(This is set in my series involving my MC, “Designing in the Devildom”. AO3 Link will be posted in the notes)

Grass. The smell of flowery perfume, too strong and too tacky. It burned the throat and lungs like sugary cotton candy, but they were both immune to the taste by now. A picnic blanket spread over the land, flowers were crushed beneath their weight. They didn’t care. The sun shone down on a chilly spring day in the human realm. Glory held out his hand, and Asmo held it gently in his own as he applied nail polish across it carefully.

“Don’t mess up,” Glory huffed, “I have a date tonight.”

“Another commitment? And here I thought you cleared your whole day for me!”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Why, darling, others do that for me,” Glory rolled his eyes at that, but it was all in good fun, no actual malice, “But, I won’t mess up. Although knocking your beauty down a peg would make me the prettiest in the three realms, I wouldn’t risk my beautician skills being slanders because I decided to be petty.”

“Good, cause if you mess up my nails I will douse you in acetone.”

The little brush moved across the nails, leaving gooey, light blue color behind. It was like liquid lipstick, squishy and shiny but as it dried it would harden into a perfect coating. The clear bottle of top coat rolled around on the picnic blanket as Asmo shifted, knocking into Glory’s knee. The color would be preserved, but protected underneath a thin layer of plastic and gloss.

“You’ve been different lately,” Glory blurted out. Asmo glanced up with surprise.

“What do you mean? Have I been even more beautiful?”

“No, and that’s just it. What you said earlier,” Glory rolled his free hand in the air as they gestured for something, “I’m used to you saying you’re the prettiest- which is false- but normally you don’t leave room for debate.”

Asmo finished the pinky finger, and then blew a soft puff of air over the whole hand before setting it back down on Glory’s thigh.

Glory didn’t like feelings. The only mushy stuff he cared about was makeup or textured fabrics of designer clothes that he knew would look great and help him show others up. But there was a distant look clouding Asmo’s eyes. He was smiling but his mind was elsewhere. He just sat there for a moment, leaning on his knees after he closed up the blue polish and set it down beside them.

Glory couldn’t help but notice the ugly pact mark that decorated Asmo’s skin, the bright pink ring that tattooed his skin, staining his neck, just visible underneath the collar. It seemed to pulsate when Glory stared at it, taunting him.

It disgusted him. He would die before he ever made a pact with any human.

Glory let out a scoff and sat back, tapping Asmo forcefully on the shoulder to knock him back to reality, “You’ll give yourself wrinkles if you keep a face like that. If you turn any uglier than you already are, I won’t hang around you anymore.”

Asmo let out a hearty laugh, his whole body radiant in the sunlight. He reached for the clear polish and shook the bottle as he let himself settle down. When he looked towards Glory’s other hand to inspect the nails, his eyes were brighter again, but also all too knowing.

Glory never needed to say much, Asmo was the best at picking up on the emotions people liked to hide. He could see right through him, but it was still nice of Glory to try and say something to make Asmo feel better. It was all the more genuine when said in his own Glory-way.

The balloons bumped into one another and the strings tangled as they were pulled through the wind and down the street. Two sets of shoes clattered and scraped against the sidewalk as the two ran along the tiny shops of downtown.

Asmo spun around, the balloons swinging with him as Glory rushed passed, taking the other demon's hand as they continued running. They hadn’t stolen anything and weren’t being chased, but there was something different about the human world. The air and the way everything was so colorful and bright as light bounced off everything, from puddles to windows of glass. The way life and the scents of the city were carried on the breeze. It was like Devildom but better.

The two of them stepped off the curb to cross the street, Glory’s heel clicking on the edge of the curb as he skipped forward.

He wished he could stay here forever.

Flashes of a camera interrupted the darkness of the night. The human realm’s night sky was much darker than Devildom’s artificial one, turning completely black even though it was only nine p.m. Glory lowered the polaroid that Poland had let her borrow, and Asmo scampered to take the developing photo from her. Slowly, the image of Asmo holding pink and blue cotton candy formed itself against the golden ferris wheel lights that spun against the black sky.

It was summer now. Poland had invited them all back to her world to visit a fair. Apparently this was a yearly thing where she used to live. It was a little crowded, a little too noisy and full of snot-nosed kids, but there were rides and there was food and strange human world entertainment. Most of it didn’t appeal to Glory, besides using the place as a backdrop for new Devilgram photos, but Asmo was coming with the rest of the brothers, and Diavolo was giving them a few extra days before they had to go back, and Glory would do anything to get out of the boring Devildom.

Poland must have noticed Glory’s disgust at the farm animals, stalls, and dirt paths when they first entered the fairgrounds, because Poland handed the camera over to her almost immediately. She had packed tons of film, handed a bunch of boxes full of starry, rainbow bordered packs that Glory could use to her heart’s content.

Half of the photos were already used up, littering the inside of the mini backpack Poland had given over to her. Random photos of people screaming on rides, humans running around or sitting under the tents. Seeing kids eat popcorn off the ground was gross, but taking pics as they tripped and ate shit and spilled popcorn all over the ground was fascinating. Before their group had split up, Lucifer had watched as Glory photographed the people in the historical tent, feeling the need to supervise the only demon not hiding her horns with magic in case she caused a ruckus.

“Based on your grades, I never suspected you would be interested in history,” he said smugly.

Glory focused on making sure the photo was tucked safely away and developing properly before shooting Lucifer a glare, flipping him off for good measure. The gasps of the historic actors had Lucifer flailing and shoving her hand down, dragging her away before she could cause anymore problems.

“Luce, wait!” Poland yelled, “You’re going to miss out on the old fashioned ice cream.”

Glory debated shouting out Lucifer’s full name, seeing if that would illicit anymore startled gasps from the old men and women sitting with bonnets by the display. That would make for a good picture too.

“Glory, let me take one of you now!” Asmo said, his fingers crawling around the camera as he tried to gently pry it out of her hands, “Go stand in front of that ride over there! The Himalaya!”

He pointed to a ride that was spinning at an unbelievably fast speed (for humans anyway), but it was flashy and colorful, which meant it would look wonderful blurred together, and there were so many humans waiting in the line, which would mean more people to preserve in her collection (she would have to invest in a scrapbook). She started to skip over, her boots digging into the clay, orange soil as the ride’s music was interrupted by a loud siren-like horn.

“Kolia, you stay back there with Belial!” Asmo waved to the other two members of their group. Kolia was the one suffering the most from the atmosphere of the fair. She only tagged along on the trip because it meant she got to see Poland again, but somehow she had gotten separated and nearly lost until she ran into Belial and the others outside a funnel cake stand.

Asmo hurried to take the photos as fast as the camera would allow, Glory striking a few poses and being tempted to take back the camera to snap the faces of the screaming riders behind her, but Asmo signaled the camera needed to be refilled with film and Glory had the bag so…

They rejoined the rest of their group.

“Where do you want to go now?” Asmo asked. Belial pointed towards the tents where all the vendors were in the middle of the fair grounds.

“I want to buy something. I saw shark tooth jewelry earlier.”

“Oh, and sand art!” Asmo chimed in.

“Do we have enough money? How much did Lucifer give us?” Kolia reached for her wallet.

“Hold on, hold on,” Glory mumbled as she finished snapping the new box of film inside the camera, “There! Good to go! Oh, wait a second-”

She leaned in and reached her arm around all of them, holding the camera up to snap what would become a very blurry selfie of them all.

“Alright, let's go!”

It was fall now. Glory sat on a bench surrounded by an expanse of orange colored leaves in the middle of a park. It was almost too picturesque, too cliche. Asmo had run off to get some warm drinks from the coffee shop down the street. It was getting cold again, the human realm had always felt so much colder than Devildom, but maybe that was just because of where Poland lived?

It was their last visit here before winter set in. Poland already had pulled a lot of strings to get the others to tag along on visits throughout the year, especially since she almost never seemed to invite Diavolo along. Glory wasn’t exactly sure what was up with that, maybe the Prince of Hell was just too busy, or maybe there was some sort of feud going on between them. It didn’t matter much to him though.

“I’m back!” Asmo said, walking up with the two, tall cups in either hand, “Sorry it took so long. They don’t have the drink you like here, so I had to improvise to get something similar.”

“That’s fine,” Glory said, plucking the cup from Asmo’s hand with just their finger and thumb on either side of it, “Probably would have tasted gross either way. Human food is bad.”

“Hey, you may have suffered through Solomon’s cooking over at Purgatory Hall, but that doesn’t mean everything from the human realm is bad,” Asmo chided, “Poland isn’t a great cook either, but there are tons of places all over this world with cute desserts and stuff.”

“A shame we won’t get to see them,” Glory sighed, popping the lid open and taking a sip.

Asmo stared at him for a moment before starting to get up, “I actually saw a shop selling some macaroons earlier! Let me go back and get them-”

Glory grabbed his sleeve to stop him.

“Stay,” they mumbled, avoiding eye contact, “We can go get some later.”

Asmo remained frozen for a moment, then slowly sat back down on the bench, “Alright then.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence. They watched birds in the empty park peck at the ground, but it was far too hard and cold for their beaks to find anything beneath it. The carpet of leaves was rustled by the wind, a few brown leaves breaking off to dance in a violent circle, their dried and dead edges scratching against the concrete and making a grating rhythm to the ears.

“It’s only going to be until the spring, you know that, right?” Asmo asked, “It’s not a long time for a demon.”

“It’s a long time for me because I can’t come and go as I please.”

“You… like the human world now, don’t you? I thought with how you always were ignoring Poland, you didn’t like coming here.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, I only come here to hang with you. Poland is just… well she’s convenient, she’s just my ticket for a new hangout spot. I just didn’t expect to find other humans so interesting.”

“They are interesting, aren’t they?” Asmo laughed behind his hand, “They’re so funny to tempt-”

“-to trip up-”

“-to trick-”

“-to observe-”

“-and to love,” Asmo finished, a deep sigh escaping him as he leaned back against the bench, watching his breath rise with the steam of the drink, mixing together in the air. Glory watched him confused, and although Asmo was wearing a thick scarf, Glory’s eyes shot to where he knew that marking was over his neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Glory crossed his arms, setting the drink down on the bench, “But I’m just annoyed because I don’t like being restricted. I don’t care what’s going on with Diavolo and your brothers and Poland and everyone else. It’s stupid of them to restrain us from coming to this realm whenever we want.”

“You could always walk through the eight layers if you really wanted to get here-”

“You know I would never do that to myself. Horrible idea.”

“It’s just a thought,” Asmo shut his eyes, “I might traverse it if Lucifer lets me. I’m sure I won’t be the only one rushing back up here. Poland has a fashion show in January. I might come see it.”

Glory didn’t respond. They just sat and stared at the city skyline rising just behind the trees at the edge of the park. Eventually, Asmo leaned his head on Glory’s shoulder, his hands unknotting Glory’s posture as he pulled Glory’s hands in his. He cracked open his eyes just a bit as he brushed his fingers along the old polish, humming when he noticed the chips.

“You should let me do your nails again. Or give you a makeover. We’ll have so much time in the winter to hang out. Nothing will change.”

Glory sighed again, and shut his eyes and let his head bonk against the top of Asmo’s gently.

He was right afterall. Nothing would change.

It was winter. Snow was not really a Devildom “thing” but Glory was certain they would be seeing some in the coming days because Diavolo had a knack for using whatever magic he could harness to simulate as much of the human world as he could. Glory had holed themselves up in the bedroom at Purgatory Hall, sitting on the window seat as they watched the moon outside.

Simeon and Solomon were in the courtyard, doing something with Luke. While teasing the young angel did give Glory some entertainment, they really weren’t in the mood right now. They had gone over to the House of Lamentation to hang with Asmo, but realized they had forgotten he had skipped off to the Human World for Poland’s fashion show. Glory had been invited, but had declined because nothing was being made easy through the use of seals, and they had no idea why Asmo would ever want to torture himself taking the footpath there.

So, now they were alone.

Meaning things had changed.

Belial and Kolia were probably downstairs, Kolia holed up in her room no doubt surrounded by books, ugh. But there was no one to compete with or talk aimlessly with. They supposed they could just go outside and steal Simeon aside, the angel was always too polite to decline even if he wasn’t really interested in the things being said, but that sort of genuine disinterest they would sense from him would just continue to make things boring.

They missed Asmo. He hadn’t even painted their nails before they left.

Whatever, they could do it themselves. If only they could find the energy to move.

Glory knew the human world would be unreasonably cold and snowy and blustery right now, and that was no place for demons, but it would be better than the mundane, boring days full of RAD classes that would continue to stretch on for the rest of their eternity. They still didn’t really understand the point of the academy, just knew that if they didn’t attend it Diavolo would probably rear his true nature and execute them for treason or something.

Glory sighed again, something they had been doing a lot since the seasonal depression set in, and got up finally to move back over to their bed. If they were leaving their room that meant getting dressed up, and although they were the Avatar of Vainglory they weren’t feeling the need to fulfill their sin right now. Instead, they flopped over on their bed, face first as they let themselves sink into the blankets, their mind aimlessly drifting through thoughts but never clinging to one.

At some point, they fell asleep.

And were abruptly woken when Asmo crashed into their bedroom from a portal breaking through time and space.

“Asmo, what the fuck?” Glory sat up, rubbing their eyes.

The demon stood up from the floor and brushed himself off, reaching a hand out to Glory immediately as he kept the portal open behind him.

“Hi! Guess I got the teleporting right! Anyway, you need to come with me to the human world, right now.”

“What? I’m not dressed, why?”

“Poland needs another model for her fashion show! It starts in an hour and one of the models broke their ankle. Come on, we have to go!”

Asmo was pulling Glory out of bed, tugging them towards the portal.

“What? Hold on, is this another seal?” They pointed at the portal, “When did you get this?”

“Poland has one for emergencies. Come on!”

Glory was tossed through the portal with Asmo, popping out on the other side. They opened their eyes as the remnants of the seal disintegrated in Asmo’s hand. He shook off the dust before pushing open the door to a backstage area. There were models milling about, people running around holding bundles of fabric and palettes of makeup. Peeking out from behind the curtain, Glory could see flowers covering the walls, real flowers pasted from floor to ceiling all the way through the maze that had been set up for the runway.

Poland rushed by, nearly missing them as she talked into a headset and carried a dress she was still beading. Asmo caught her arm and froze her in her tracks.

“Wonderful! You’re here!” Poland’s face lit up as she shoved the dress to one of the (Glory presumed) assistants, “Let’s get your makeup done right away!”

They both started to guide Glory to one of the vanities, but they dug their heels in and turned around, “Wait, wait, wait. I’m all in for this but, Asmo, how are we getting back to Devildom if the seal broke? I’m not walking all the way back. Do you even know the entrance to how to get back?”

“I don’t have another seal,” Poland said, “That was for emergencies. Guess this just means you’ll have to stay with me until the others can come pick you up?”

“It will take me a few days to get back home on foot,” Asmo laughed, “If you’re insistent about waiting for another portal home, then that would probably give you a good week or so before Diavolo and Lucifer come to drag you back.”

Glory mulled it over for a moment, really not liking the idea of being stuck living with Poland for a few days, but then Poland flagged down someone who was walking by with the rolling rack, picking a hanger off it to show.

“This is what you’ll be wearing, by the way!”

Glory stared in awe as Poland continued, twisting the fabric of the outfit and pulling more accessories off the top of the rack, “...and so you’ll be the beginning and the end of the show, wearing this at the start and then coming back out at the end to transform it by tugging these pieces off. Oh, and then you’ll be the one to walk out with me at the very end because that’s when the designer normally does their walk- uh, is this all okay?”

“Perfect,” Glory grinned, sitting down in the chair, “Asmo, you need to redo my nails while I start the makeup. You owe me after all.”

“Of course!” He chimed, shooing the cosmetologist away as he found a bottle of polish from inside the makeup kit.

“Um, are you really going to be able to do their nails while they’re moving their hands so much?” Poland asked doubtfully.

“Just leave us, love. You interrupting will be the more likely cause of a disaster if anything.”

“Just trust us,” Asmo said, softening the blow.

Poland didn’t mind. She just shrugged and walked off, wheeling the rack away as she went to manage the rest of the show’s set-up. Glory ignored the stares from the models next to them, as there was no way they were hiding their horns tonight. Grabbing a beauty blender and a bottle of foundation, they smiled wickedly in the mirror at their and Asmo’s reflections.

“We’ve got this.”

And they set to work.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me ocs #obey me masters #obey me mc #writing #my writing #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus #om asmodeus #asmo

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eye-of-enigmatic-thought · 4 years ago

Photo

When you arrived at the Habitat, you weren’t sure what to expect. Sure, you expected those cheesy patronizing motivational posters and videos, some strict rules, and that it wouldn’t do much in actually helping you get better (though it was better than nothing), but everything else? Those carnival attendants? How much different the air becomes at night? The man behind the Habitat himself? To say it was a surprise would be an understatement.

Your first meeting with Dr. Habit was... bizarre, sure, he seemed friendly enough and had a flamboyant goofy personality that you found charming, but it was definitely not something you were expecting from a professional doctor running a self-help program. You tried not to judge, everyone had their quirks, after all.

“Oh? Du we hav a niew addishun? : - )”

You had waited a long while in that dimly lit office, so Habit finally arriving and breaking your fidgeting and daydreaming made you jump, the wait time probably should’ve been a good enough hint that this was probably not the most adequate place, but you were desperate to find some place to stay, so here you are... in a dark office with this... giant of a man who was your doctor, and the office you were in seemed to have malfunctioning lights, so it was so dim that you couldn’t really see all of him.

“Hehehe! Why so jumpi? Et is only me, silli!” His voice was very deep and he had a Russian accent, yet despite having the recipe for having the voice of a James Bond villain his voice was incredibly soft, almost soothing, though he had a cheery and childish tone, was this big Russian guy trying to babytalk you??

You decide to ignore his odd tone and proceed to explain to him your situation and the reason for your sadness, how life has been so difficult, how no doctors have been able to help your mental health issues, and how you need some break from it all, just a place to stay before you get back up on your feet and feel more ready to deal with... well, everything. Throughout your explanation Dr. Habit was quiet and listening intently, you appreciated that he was listening, unlike the other doctors you’ve tried to talk to about your problems, though his expression felt... a little too eager to listen to your woes, and you could swear the more you looked at him and the shadows surrounding him, the more they seemed to shift...

“Sad! Sooo sadd! Life is ver harrd yes? I know too well...” At his last sentence, Habit’s previously cheerful demeanor shifted into being more solemn, but he quickly shifted back.

“But! Thatt is whi u come 2 my Habitat yes? Do not worri my frend, u may stae as looong as you like until u find yor smile! And if u can’t find eet...”

Habit gave a long pause, as if setting some sort of punchline, and he seemed to be reaching for something under the desk with his right hand, though he didn’t break eye contact with you. Before you could ask what he was doing, suddenly he shoved a large puppet replica of himself in front of you.

“U can stay for te BIG EVENT! And get yor smile then! : - )” Said the ‘Pabit’, or Habit ventriloquizing as the puppet. You just looked at the puppet in bewilderment, taken aback by just how... surreal this was, here you were in a dark office with a eccentric gigantic doctor that you knew nothing about aside from the official ‘website’ of the Habitat, possibly risking getting into something shady all because no other doctor has been able to help you, and this guy has a puppet version of himself that he’s using to talk to you right now...

You had to laugh.

Habit showed a content expression at the sight of your laughter, clearly pleased with himself for making you laugh.

“Seeee? Yor’r finding your smiiiile! See howw much we can helpp? But if you still cain’t find it, dere’s always the Big Event! : - ) : - ) : - )” He continued speaking with the puppet, you had to hand it to him, he did make you laugh and was surprisingly good at ventriloquism, he didn’t even seem to be moving his lips at all, though it was hard to tell due to how dim the office was. Still, as surreal as the entire thing was, you couldn’t help but find it charming. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad?

Habit then stood up, once again reminding you of just how large this man was. He walked around his desk and stood in front of you, slightly leaning down. You couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by his massive size, but he still held a cheery and friendly expression as he gently placed his left hand on the back of your shoulder, lightly pulling upwards to coerce you to stand up as well, now also being very close to him.

Wait wait wait whAT-

This... The doctor is now holding your back and you are VERY close to him, is... isn’t this a bit too... close? Or personal?? Is this even protocol??? Jesus christ he is ginormous and he’s holding you what the f-

“Why don’t wee take you 2 the Habittat? : - )” His puppet asked with his same cheerfulness.

Does this guy just have no concept of personal space?? You tried to rationalize to yourself that some people just don’t sometimes, as he didn’t seem to be aware of just how awkward this actually was, but this was a presumably professional doctor, and yet... there were so many aspects of his demeanor... tidbits of his personality and the way he spoke to you, this was probably not a stable man. There was something else about him too... now that you were very close to him, you could tell he had a strange scent that you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was, but it was a familiar type of smell, it takes you back, to maybe when you were a kid, playing too roughly in the school playground and then clumsily tripping over onto the concrete floor, how much it hurt, how much you cried, and how much you were covered in cuts and scrapes and-

“Welcom 2 the HABITAT! : - )”

You were so distracted by your own thoughts and how awkward you felt you didn’t even realize you walked past the gates of the Habitat with him, his left hand still gently holding your shoulders and back, his right still operating that puppet of his.

You looked around the courtyard, it... didn’t look much, but it seemed actually kind of nice, it had a relatively calming atmosphere, maybe thanks to it’s simplicity. You noticed a bunch of different posters and murals around on the walls, they were... definitely designed and drawn by Habit, but they were more cheesy than anything. In front of you were some extra more smaller gates, beyond them you could hear some distant machinery. There also seemed to be a random puddle in the middle of the courtyard, maybe it was there for... decoration?

Your observing was then interrupted by the sound of jangling keys to your right.

The puppet held and jingled some keys next to you, then leaning in closer to give you the keys and place them in your hand.

“These ar the keys to your apartiment, u’ll find it by walking up the staires.” Habit directed you, pointing with the puppet at a door to your right, still holding you with his left hand. “It is evening, so you betterr get some sleep naow, we hav a strict beddy-time, so don’t skip curfew, or else!”

You were then gently pushed forward to the door to the stairwell, the weight of Habit’s hand lifting from your shoulders, you were about to walk up the stairs on your own, when a question appeared in your mind about Habit’s strange wording.

“Wait... what do you mean ‘Or else?’“ you asked Habit.

But there was no answer.

You looked back, but the doctor was nowhere to be found

You blinked slowly, confused and bewildered. It was quick and there wasn’t even any sound to indicate that Habit was gonna leave or already left, he just... silently disappeared, how did he even...?

This... was incredibly strange, this self help doctor was not only just a very eccentric man, but there were so many qualities of him that should be red flags, that you should leave this place asap, but you remind yourself about how almost nowhere else has been able to help and that at least this place offers free housing, but you can’t help but think... how childish his tone was, how he owned a puppet of himself, how he had no concept of personal space, how oddly the shadows around him seemed to shift, how strange his scent was...

!!!

It was only when you were alone you realized what the doctor smelled like.

He smelled of copper.

And the place where he placed his hand on you felt oddly wet.

#my art #My writing #smile for me #smile for me game #boris habit #fanfiction #digital art #blood cw #horror #I was just gonna post the art and go but then I got carried away and wrote fanfiction as well #I hope it isn't too bad because I'm so shy with my writing and its like 5 30 am here oh god why #anyway happy halloween

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satanfemme · 5 years ago

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ok. explain 2 me. what is good about val velocititty. what are his redeeming personality traits or whatever i actually want to know

ok so this is something I’ve talked about before at length

BASICALLY the argument I usually make is that Val wasn’t a bad person or at least not any worse than the rest of the V’s. TL:DR run down of that is this (feel free to skip this section if u read all of that post I linked lmao) :

1. He’s canonically the only killjoy who doesn’t believe in the phoenix witch and therefor sees death as a finality. when volume dies it’s literally pointed out that he’s the only one who’s actually upset about that. volume’s death/the nest exploding then clearly become traumatic events to him2. When he did things like kill Dr. D that was out of paranoia where he *genuinely* thought he was killing the person responsible for the nest exploding/many of his friends dying2. The rest of the V’s totally supported him when he killed people so like?? If ur gonna hate him for shooting that rando for target practice then at least hate vinyl too for also doing that? jkfghkjdf 4. Then when he did do objectively bad things like say “oh we should kill everyone in the city” A. he was only doing what he saw as the best course of action to keep everyone safe from bl/i and B. literally all the other killjoys (except like cherri) were on board with that shit too lmao

all of that being said tho!!! you asked for redeeming personality traits. so ok!!!! enough apologism, here’s some reasons in no particular order why you shouldn’t just not-hate him but why he is fun and likable too:

1. Mean and Gay, literally maybe it’s just me but I just think it’s so fun that he’s mean and gay. like??? everyone on this site is always gushing over their “feral” and “unhinged” favs well ok!! I don’t really want to call val velocity unhinged cause that feels kinda disrespectful but... u know... gay rights!

2. Ok also genuinely he did actually care so much about people and doing the right thing to keep them safe??? even though he did a SHIT job at it and didn’t alway show it like verbally, it’s literally stated in canon that he was trying to “keep the desert the free and peaceful place it once was” and I mean??? just look at the speech he gave at the end of issue two:

“There’s nothing left. BLI just come and take it. If the people of Bat City knew what they do out here to make it safer in there… we can show them the corpses. We can show them the rubble that was once our home. We call ourselves killjoys after a group of failures. We can do better. We will do better.” (the speech then continues into the whole “lets destroy the city” thing, but let’s just skate over that 4 now jfkhg)

like bro??? I????? I love him so muc h fghldfjhg like literally what part of that reads as anything other than a hurt man trying to suggest a way to end the constant deaths of his family and destruction of his home, cause like?? TBH!! he has a point, the fab four didn’t really stop all the death and whatever the killjoys were doing between 2027 and 2039 wasn’t stopping the death either. The desert is under like this constant attack and the nest getting blown up was def a bigger deal than usual but still like it wasn’t unusual?? the idea of doing something new and different so that bli would just stop destroying everything/everyone they care about was like a really good idea and I think it’s just so extremely cool of him to be the one to go “no, fuck this, I don’t want to watch any more of my friends die” and then try to be the hero, like sir I’m love u

3. He also just looks really cool. like listen u want a list of likable traits??? ok: sexy as hell. designer jacket and vampire necklace??? his X mask??? lmao case closed, next.

4. Sometimes he’s a little dumb but also sometimes …. he’s low key smart. Low wisdom, high intelligence. Like, bastard was the leader of a killjoy gang for an undisclosed amount of time and Then became the leader of a whole army of loyal killjoys, like he wasn’t stupid!!

I’m trying to think of good examples of his intelligence but like? honestly the best example I can think of is when they get to the city and the girl surrenders for everyone. He doesn’t blow up at her or even any of the scarecrows or anything he was just kinda like “this is ur plan?” and the girl was like “yeah trust me” and then presumably he did… like idk that was just a v humanizing moment for him imo? like he’s Not some mindless antagonist like a lot of people seem to believe, he knows what he’s doing and when to just let things play out, I can’t imagine a lot of fanon interpretations of him would just allow surrender like that especially surrender as orchestrated by the girl but! literally canon peak-unhinged val is doing that! bitches got braincells!! just something to note.

Wait also I just remembered another example of him having braincells: he was correct that there was a spy? even if it wasn’t dr. d specifically he did actually figure that out part of the way, and ofc he’s not gonna guess it’s the fcking cat who’s the spy jfgdfjkglk like?

ANYWAY I can’t think of any more things to list off the top of my head but that’s that on that: he literally was just going to extremes to protect his loved ones and he was trying v hard to be the hero he was just not very good at executing that. I rest my case.

#tlotfk #val velocity #putting this in the main tag cause I'm annoying and evil #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days #anarchistpoison

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axclfms · 4 years ago

Text

hllo demons n space cowboys !! i’m sage comin 2 u live frm the est tz with a v red dash icon tht i can’t be bothered to change atm . anyways , shimmies shoulders im v v excited to be here with my child axel so let me just diiiiive right into her ! pls hit me up or spank tht lil heart if you’d like to plot and i’ll come runnin.

「charlotte d’alessio & cisfemale」⇾ medici , axel, the junior radcliffe student’s records show that she is a scorpio and 20 years old. she is studying fine arts & photography, living in noland and can be passionate, magnetic, heedless & addictive. when i see her i am reminded of catfishing passport photos, shoplifting out of pure boredom & empty film canisters used as pill holders . ⇽

alrite first things first HERE is her pinterest , feel free to skip all the junk below & just vibe check her

BACKGROUND

born & raised in southlake, tx to oliver & pearl medici

they were high school sweethearts who were voted most likely to get married and have a dozen kids running around

they stopped at 2 bc they just .. their kids were a handful . . . but axel will tell you they stopped after her bc they hit perfection :~)

the medici’s come from a long line of politicians & are all associated with the political world in one form or another

her father dreamt of becoming president & honestly was beginning to climb his way there

started off by getting elected as mayor & then from mayor went onto join the state’s senate & was working on his campaign for governor of tx

axel & her older brother adored their father & played their part , knowing that even the smallest mistake cld wreck their dad’s way to the top... even if it didn’t matter now, if he were to run his presidential campaign they would surely be digging for anything to take him down . aside frm some partying & drinking , they never did anything too too wild

her brother ended up going to yale for college, not wanting to be too far from him but wanting a break from her parents & texas , axel applied to radcliffe bc she knew the ivy life wasn’t for her

and something about radcliffe’s history drew her in

last year right before midterms , axel got a phone call tht turned her world upside down . her dad had gotten into a car accident. after getting rushed to the ER, he ended up dying from complications in surgery. he was in the early stages of his campaign for governor & was on his way to meet his team.

it was ruled as an accident & that seemed to be that on that. & everyone went ahead and moved on with their lives

axel still wants to believe that there was foul play in her father’s death mainly bc she wants to blame someone

frm her eyes her mom n brother have healed without any trouble. her brother had gone back to school, graduated from yale and jetted off to south africa with his new gf where they were working for a non profit . her mom had started dating someone new within six months.

PERSONALITY

the whole thing has taken an impact on her n she’s just ... a lot more darker or wilder nw. think bradley martin frm bates motel or marissa cooper frm the oc

was probably head of social committee and heavily involved in the school. was also a cheerleader but went to practice high as balls one too many times , and eventually got kicked off the team.

lost a bet & graffiti’d the school building , got ratted out and spent a month of her summer doing community service and picking up trash.

if you knew her during freshman year and half of sophomore year , she is probably a completely different person nw.

pops xanax like they’re vitamins , is constantly day drunk , always has a flask hidden in a designer purse. has low key developed a little bit of a coke habit

rly good at putting on a facade of perfection when she needs to but truly feels like she has nothing left to lose so she says whatever pops into her mind, likes to stir up trouble when she’s bored n has rly just turned into a firecracker n is jus kinda.. ruthless nw

wld hit on someone’s dad out of pure boredom

uses sex as an outlet to feel in control, to feel good , to feel wanted

only thing that she’s still passionate about is art and photography .

photography inspo is probably sarahbahbah , where she likes to shoot things in series with a film vibe to it.

catch her walking around with hints of paint on her hands , not sleeping bc she’s trying to perfect her latest piece

always sketching or doodling , probably has a film camera slung around her neck or dangling frm her wrist

human embodiment of the cherry & wilted rose emoji

big on skin care and doing face masks and only says ‘self love’ ironically. usually after she spins herself into chaos

big aesthetic would b phoebe tonkin lookin sad and depressed at the farmer’s market carrying around flowers

ok that is all i got .... ty for prowling thru this if u did. also she is a fairly new muse of mine so if ... she ends up changing once she hits the dash MIND UR BUSINESS alskslks jkkk

WANTED CONNECTIONS

we love angst & fictional toxicity over here! hit me w any & all of ur toxic wcs

a good influence for her

someone who she used to be bff’s with but shut them out when everything went down and now it’s just ... awkward between them

someone who she didn’t get along with before but now they’re pals

unlikely friends!

a ride or die friendship

a confidant .. hit me with those 12 am late night heart to hearts with no filter NO CAP!

someone who ratted her out for vandalizing

hook ups wld be fun ! tinder matches, one night stands etc.

someone who axel just completely fucked over in some way (romantic or platonic)

truly anything i am dwn for ! thnk u and good night

#ruhqintro #ok.. srry this is truly a mess #feel free to skip this n im me and ill give u the spark notes version #tw: death #tw: drug use

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axelmedici · 5 years ago

Text

hllo demons n space cowboys !! yes , it is i , sage & yes , the rumors are in fact tru . . . i am a certified crack head & picked up another character :/// anyways , shimmies shoulders pls spank tht heart if u wld like 2 plot n i will come RUNNIN

hey AXEL MEDICI , welcome to dillon university . has anyone ever told you you’re CHARLOTTE D’ALESSIO ’s twin ? no ? well okay , i heard you are TWENTY & a JUNIOR at the university . we hope FINE ARTS & PHOTOGRAPHY isn’t kicking your ass too much , especially since you’re the SCHOOL MASCOT / EX CHEERLEADER . see you at the next game, MEDICI & cis female + she/her

alrite first things first HERE is her pinterest , feel free to skip all the junk below & just vibe check her

BACKGROUND

born & raised in southlake tx to oliver & pearl medici

they were high school sweethearts who were voted most likely to get married and have a dozen kids running around

they stopped at 2 bc they just .. their kids were a handful . . . but she’ll tell you they stopped after axel bc they hit perfection :~)

the medici’s come from a long line of politicians & are all associated with the political world in one form or another

her father dreamt of becoming president & honestly was beginning to climb his way there

started off by getting elected as mayor & then from mayor went onto senator & was working on his campaign for governor of tx

last year right before midterms , axel got the phone call tht would change her entire world . her dad had gotten killed in a car accident . he was in the early stages of his campaign for governor & was on his way to meet his team.

it was ruled as an accident & that seemed to be that on that. & everyone went ahead and moved on with their lives

axel still wants to believe that there was foul play in her father’s death mainly bc she wants to blame someone

frm her eyes her mom n brother have healed without any trouble. her brother had gone back to south africa with his new gf where they were working for a non profit . her mom had started dating someone new within six months.

PERSONALITY

the whole thing has taken an impact on her n she’s just ... a lot more darker or wilder nw. this bradley martin frm bates motel or marissa cooper frm the oc

was probably head of social committee and heavily involved in the school. was also a cheerleader but went to practice high as balls one too many times , and eventually got kicked off the team.

lost a bet & graffiti’d the school building , got ratted out and spent a month of her summer doing community service and picking up trash.

the punishment of vandalizing the school & getting kicked off the cheer team also came with the job as school mascot :~)

75% of the time it isn’t axel in there.. she’s probably paid or flirted with someone to take her place probably sits on the opposing teams benches when she has someone filling in for her..... tik tok vc: don’t be suspicious

if the panther mascot suddenly starts grindin on the opposing team’s coach or mascot... that’s axel

if you knew her during freshman year she is probably a completely different person nw.

pops xanax like they’re vitamins , is constantly day drunk , always has a flask hidden in a designer purse. has low key developed a little bit of a coke habit

rly good at putting on a facade of perfection when she needs to but truly feels like she has nothing left to lose so she says whateva pops into her mind, likes to stir up trouble when she’s bored n has rly just turned into a firecracker n is jus kinda.. ruthless nw

wld hit on someone’s dad out of pure boredom , is probably hooking up the qb of dillon’s biggest rival fr shits n giggles

uses sex as an outlet to feel in control, to feel good , to feel wanted

only thing that she’s still passionate about is art and photography .

catch her walking around with hints of paint on her hands , not sleeping bc she’s trying to perfect her latest piece

always sketching or doodling , probably has a film camera slung around her neck or dangling frm her wrist

human embodiment of the cherry & wilted rose emoji

ok that is all i got .... ty for prowling thru this if u did. also she is a brand new muse of mine so if ... she ends up changing once she hits the dash MIND UR BUSINESS alskslks jkkk

WANTED CONNECTIONS

we love angst & fictional toxicity over here! hit me w any & all of ur toxic wcs

a good influence for her

someone who she used to be bff’s with but shut them out when everything went down and now it’s just ... awkward between them

someone who she didn’t get along with before but now they’re pals

unlikely friends!

a ride or die friendship

a confidant .. hit me with those 12 am late night heart to hearts with no filter NO CAP!

someone who ratted her out for vandalizing

hook ups wld be fun !

someone who axel just completely fucked over in some way (romantic or platonic)

#friday:intro #ok .. as usual i got carried away #srry friends #pleathe plot w me tho #tw: death #tw: drug use #also... ty to leia my angel fr my gif #🥺🥺🥺

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

❉ 139 Dreams (Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu) Memory

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, Friendship, Angst, Drama ☁

Word Count: 4,826 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Tetsutetsu ☁

World: Boku no Hero Academia ☁

Author’s Note: First time writing for Tetsu and he’s probably so out of character haha I don’t know why, but it was so hard to focus on writing this and I’m not sure if it was the fic doing it or just because I can’t focus on one thing for more than two seconds (thanks tumblr). But I powered through and I think the ending is okay?? Either way, enjoy nearly 5,000 words of Tetsu pft Oh, by the way, I cried working on the middle so good luck.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

Your earliest memory that you could recall was about Tetsutetsu, standing over you with a curious expression on his chubby cheeks. It was the height of summer, cicadas singing without pause as the sun beamed down with angry rays of heat. You hated the summer, but your mother was tired of you spending all your free time on the computer, so she ordered you outside to get some exercise. And at the age of six, who were you to argue? Plus, she threatened to cut the internet cord if you didn’t so so, which was a big motivator.

This boy, with his mop of silver hair and black eyes, teeth as sharp as a razor and eyes lined with tan-colored spikes, had seen you fall dramatically to the grass and had rushed over to make sure you were not injured. Screaming in your face admittedly wasn’t the best way to approach someone that might be injured, but his worry touched your heart, even if you didn’t realize it at the time.

As the two of you sat there, talking about all of the things you both enjoyed or couldn’t stand, time quickly ticked by and, before you knew it, the sun was hiding behind the mountains in the distance. You had, surprisingly, completely forgotten about the internet and the anime you had been binging that morning.

When he noticed the darkness quickly setting in, he stood up and offered you his hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“Sure,” your hand slid into his own and he pulled you up with little effort, but he didn’t release your hand, nor did you try to pull away. “Ne, what’s your name? Mine is Y/N.”

He grinned widely, his shark-like teeth glinting under the light of the streetlamp. “My name’s Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu! Remember it, because I’m gonna be a pro-hero!”

You honestly didn’t know how to feel, unable to wrap your young mind around how a parent could doom their child with such a name. Did his family hate him? Was it some sort of dare gone wrong? As badly as you wanted to ask him about it, you thought it rude to do so. “Thanks for walking me home, future hero.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he increased his grip. “Can we hang out tomorrow, too?”

You considered this for a moment before nodding, offering him a grin. “Sure!”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

The second memory that sprang to your mind took place when you were just twelve years old. Spring was coming to a close and you had decided to confess your feelings for your classmate, Yui. The pink-haired boy was your first crush and your first heartbreak, and you had made the mistake of confessing to him during lunch, surrounded by your peers.

It didn’t go well.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but -”

“He would never like you!” Yua, his twin sister, forced herself between the two of you, her loud voice drawing the attention of the other students. “You’re too ugly for him and you look like a hippo! Hippo Y/N, hippo Y/N!”

Tears stung at your eyes as you looked to Yui, waiting for him to stick up for you, but he only turned his head away, eyes cast toward the ground. The other students soon joined Yua in her teasing.

“Hippo Y/N! Hippo Y/N! Hippo Y/N!”

Your sneakers squeaked across the floor as you ran toward the door, tears blurring your vision. Your nearly ran into Tetsu and his friend as they entered the lunchroom, but you dodged his hands when he tried to reach for you. His brow furrowed in confusion as he stared at your retreating form. Why were you crying? And then he heard the other kids chanting and laughing. As badly as he wanted to yell at Yua, who was clearly the mastermind, you were his top priority. He had to make sure you were okay, but… where had you gone?

The roof was off-limits to the students because of how rusted the railing was, so the doors were kept locked. That meant nothing to you, though, as your quirk, Key, was able to easily bypass this. It was a fairly simple quirk that allowed you to create a key for any lock you touched, but it disappeared after use.

The janitor had left the door unlocked once, allowing a group of girls to skip class by hiding out on the roof. When the staff found out about this, the janitor was fired and the girls received a month of detention each. Since then, the roof has remained unused, no one wanting to risk spending a month with Jamison-sensei. The place was perfect for you to hide away from the other students.

You headed to the far side of the roof, sliding down the side of the metal air conditioning unit, the fan whirring loudly. The sound helped to block out the sound of your sobs, though you did try to muffle them by stuffing your face against your knees.

Tetsu was panicking as he ran through the school, trying to find his best friend, but you were nowhere in sight. As he rounded the corner, he suddenly came to a stop, spying the thin staircase that led directly to the roof. Something compelled him forward and he raced up the stairs without a second thought. Though the door was closed tight, his eyes just barely caught sight of the gray dust left behind in the lock from your quirk – a fine, barely visible powder.

He pushed the door open, the metal creaking loudly. A choked sob reached his ears, making his heart seize painfully as he followed the sound, finding you curled up within yourself, body shaking. The sight left him feeling a pain he had never before felt and he didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around you, whispering softly into your ear as you clung to his shirt as if your life depended on it.

It took a couple of days before you were back to your normal self, and you were surprised that the other kids weren’t still teasing you. While you assumed they had just gotten bored and moved on, the truth was that Tetsu had yelled at anyone he found to be making fun of you, threatening to pound them senseless if they didn’t stop.

You didn’t need to know that.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You never wanted to be a hero. Really, there wasn’t anything that you wanted for the future, you were just kind of living life and enjoying your youth by binge-watching anime. Maybe you could be a video game designer? Or perhaps you could get a job at the local internet provider. Maybe then they would have better download speeds because it takes far too long to download your anime.

Tetsutetsu was different. He had been motivated to be a hero since he was a child, and he was training hard to get accepted into U.A. high, the leading school for hero hopefuls. Being his best friend meant that he forced you into training with him and even managed to convince you to sign up for the entrance exam alongside him, which you thought was a complete waste of time. After all, how could someone with a Key quirk become a pro hero? Still, you wanted to support your best friend and you had nothing better to do, so you agreed.

The written test was troublesome, mostly because you couldn’t stay focused with a winged boy sitting to your left. His wings would react to his thoughts and feelings, so they kept expanding and shuddering and you couldn’t possibly concentrate until you touched them.

He did not appreciate that.

When it came to the physical test, you had a lot more fun than you had expected. With Tetsu’s training, you were able to dodge most of the robot’s attacks, though one did sock you in the gut, leaving a nasty bruise. While dodging, you just had to locate a control panel or emergency shut off switch, to which your quirk became quite useful. It was pretty cool to see so many different types of quirks in action, you had to admit.

There was one person specifically that caught your eye; a blonde boy with some kind of explosion quirk. Though he didn’t seem to be anything too impressive, he was so aggressive and angry that you couldn’t help feeling intrigued. He was someone that definitely demanded attention.

When the results of the exam finally came in, you were surprised to find that you had been accepted into the hero course. You immediately headed over to Tetsu’s house to see if he had gotten his letter, as well. He had, but was too afraid to open it and made you do so for him.

“You got in!” You grinned after the holographic video ended. “Congratulations, Tetsu!”

He threw his arms around you, sniffling as he tried to hold back his tears. “I got in!!” And then he paused, pulling back so he could look at you. “Did you?”

“Yup! Class… A, I think?”

Tetsu’s smile faltered for half a second, barely noticeable to most, but very much so to yourself. “That’s… great!”

“What’s wrong?” your brow furrowed.

“It’s nothing. I was just hoping we’d be in the same class!”

“Oh, yeah, that does suck. But we’ll still be best friends, don’t worry!”

You made the mistake of believing him.

You’d pay for that later.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You remembered it like it was yesterday, though it had been about two weeks already. It was, by far, your most painful memory to date, but you couldn’t help feeling like it was all your fault. You had misinterpreted the signs or just missed them altogether. What kind of friend were you? After everything he had done for you over the years, this is how you repay him.

You stole his dream away from him.

It was right after the announcement for the sports festival. The other classes had gathered outside of class 1-A, scoping out the competition because, after you all had been attacked by villains, your class was front-page news. Tetsu was also there, yelling up a storm as he usually did. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, but he didn’t appreciate that.

His eyes narrowed at you, fists clenched tightly at his sides. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t raised like normal, it was deadly calm. “You think this is funny, Y/N? This has always been a joke to you. You don’t even want to be a hero, but you get put in class A… you’re pathetic!”

It left like his words had been turned into sharp arrows, piercing your heart with each sentence. In all of the years you’ve known him, he had never talked to you like that, never raised his voice or gotten angry at you. So what had changed?

“Tetsu, I…” But what could you say that didn’t make things worse? He was right, after all.

Bakugo, who you had gotten close to since starting at U.A., scoffed as he threw his back over his shoulder. “You’re just mad because you know you’re beneath us,”

“Katsuki,” you hissed, smacking his shoulder. “Stop trying to make things worse!”

Tetsu’s lip curled back in disgust as he watched you, not missing how you used the boy’s first name. He had witnessed first hand how close you had gotten to the ash blonde and he didn’t like it. “Y/N, this is my declaration! I will beat you in the sports festival and take your spot in class A!”

“Ha! You can try, you damned extra, but you won’t get far! Let’s go, Y/N!” Bakugo took off down the hall.

You turned your attention back to Tetsu with a frown, but he only scoffed and walked in the opposite direction. You could only stand there feeling like shit, watching your best friend walk away from you.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You sighed as you fell into your seat, eyes trained on the window beside your desk. The sky was dark grey, completely blocking out the sun. Rain fell in heavy sheets, the wind blowing hard enough to knock thin branches from nearby trees. The forecast had said nothing about rain and, just twenty minutes ago, the sun was shining without a cloud in sight.

‘Maybe I have a secret quirk that changes the weather according to my mood,’ you sighed again, burying your face in your arms that sat atop the desk. It certainly reflected your current mood. You had been thinking on it a lot and you came to realize that Tetsu had been slowly distancing himself from you since the day you both were accepted at U.A. You had just assumed he was spending time with his new classmates so you didn’t pressure him, but now you wondered if that had been his subtle way of reaching out to you.

You wanted nothing more than to fix this, but you didn’t know how. You had gone to class B to try and talk it out, but that annoying prick, Monoma, had blocked your way, not missing a beat when it came to insulting class A. For some reason, though, he was careful not to insult you, which you did find strange, but you had more important things to worry about.

“Damn it, Y/N, if you sigh one more damn time I’m gonna kick your ass!” Bakugo jumped out of his seat, slamming his foot on your desk.

You only groaned in response, the sound muffled by your arms.

Kirishima frowned as he approached. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You muttered a response, but it was impossible to make out.

“Speak up, damn it!!”

You lifted your head, eyes glassy as you tried not to cry. Seeing this threw Bakugo off guard and he froze, not knowing how to respond. Your eyes met the red rubies of Kirishima, who reminded you so much of Tetsu. You would give anything to fix your relationship with him.

And then it struck you like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky. You knew what you had to do. You jumped out of your chair, startling the two boys who called your name as you ran from the room, nearly hitting Todoroki in your haste.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

“Please, sensei!” You pleaded, bending at the waist as you bowed at the two pro heroes standing before you.

Aizawa rubbed the back of his messy locks, feeling annoyed with your request. “That isn’t possible, Y/N.”

“But why not?” You demanded, straightening your back so you could look him in the eye.

Kan grunted, folding his arms over his chest. “He has to earn his place, not be given it by someone that’s trying to win brownie points.”

“I’m not trying to win brownie points,” you snapped, fists clenching at your sides. “He has more than earned it! I shouldn’t even be here, he should!”

“Calm down,” Aizawa ordered, narrowing his eyes in warning.

“Not until you let Tetsu take my place! I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be a hero! All of this is meaningless to me if I lose him in the process!” Tears flowed down your cheeks but you didn’t care.

Aizawa’s expression softened as he stepped forward, his hand resting on your head. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but this is not the way to fix it.”

“I don’t know what else to do, sensei.” You sobbed, looking into his tired eyes. “Tell me what to do,”

“Talk to him and tell him how you feel. That’s the best advice I can give.”

“He won’t talk to me!”

“He doesn’t have to talk, he just has to listen.” He ruffled your hair. “You may not think so, but you belong here. You earned your place. Now go on, go fix this problem. I won’t have you distracted and causing problems.”

“Yes, sensei…” you muttered, rubbing at your eyes as you left the room. Maybe he was right – Tetsu didn’t have to talk to you, and even if he walked away, as long as he heard what you had to say, that was enough. You could only hope that your words would reach him.

With your mind made up, you furiously wiped away your tears before heading for class B. Most of the students had already left the class, but the most important one was still there, but so was Monoma. When the blonde noticed you in the doorway, he sprung up like a Jack in the box.

“What are you doing here, hmm? Did you get lost? Makes sense since from class -”

“Get out of my way!” You snapped, eyes narrowed at him. Even with your eyes red and puffy, he scared of what you might do, but Monoma was an egotistical idiot that didn’t know when to quit.

He laughed loudly, his tone going up an octave to mirror his nervousness. “Class A isn’t at all heroic! You’re all a bunch of villains in training!”

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention to Tetsu. He had clearly heard the commotion, but he continued to write in his book as if you didn’t exist. You swallowed hard, “Tetsu -”

“He doesn’t want to associate with villains from class A!”

“Tetsu,” you called desperately. “You don’t have to respond, but please just listen to what I have to say! I’m a selfish jerk that doesn’t deserve to have such a good friend. You’ve always been there for me no matter what and… all of my best memories are with you! I applied for U.A. because you asked me to, but a part of me did it because I was scared of losing you. I never intended to hurt you or take your place and you’re right, I am pathetic… but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to fix this, Tetsu. You’ve always been better than me at solving problems. You’re better than me at everything! A better friend, a better fighter, a better person.”

While his hand stilled, he didn’t lift his gaze from the book. You were well aware of all the eyes on you, his classmates and several students that had been passing by. You probably looked like a fool, but you didn’t care.

“Do you remember the day we met? You told me to remember your name because you were going to be a pro hero one day. The truth is… You’re already a hero. My hero! You’ve always been there for me. A shoulder to cry on when I’m sad. A friend to confide in when I’m stressed. A knight in shining armor when someone messes with me. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize it, but… I’m in love with you, Tetsu. I have been since the first day we met. I’m so sorry for betraying you, I never meant… I didn’t…” Tears stung your eyes again and you didn’t bother holding them back. “I’m sorry,”

Having said your peace and knowing that Tetsu had no intention of responding, you turned around and left the room, hanging your head as the gathered students whispered about you. You had bore your heart for all to see and, while it hurt like nothing you had felt before, somehow you felt a bit lighter.

People always say you shouldn’t make decisions when you’re emotional, but they fail to realize that’s when you’re most motivated. With this in mind, you waited until class A was empty before slipping a folded piece of paper onto Aizawa’s desk – it was your resignation from from U.A. high. The whole point of coming here was to be with Tetsu because you were scared of losing him, but look where that got you. If Tetsu wasn’t by your side, you didn’t want to be at U.A. anymore.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

BANG

The sudden, loud sound from downstairs jolted you from your sleep, nearly causing you to fall off the bed. A week had passed since you left U.A. and several of your classmates had been trying to contact you, including Bakugo who liked yo bang on your door for thirty fucking minutes, threatening to “burn your ass to ash”. Thankfully, your parents had gone overseas last week and weren’t do back for the rest of the month.

But that left you to wallow in self-pity and binge watch anime filled with romantic drama and tears. Your room was a mess, tissues thrown everywhere, clothes literring the floor, and empty ramen cups stacked up by the desk. Another bang sounded from downstairs and you glanced at the clock.

Six pm. That was a bit early for Bakugo’s visit, but maybe he was trying to catch you off guard. Either way, you couldn’t be botheted, choosing to fall back against the mattress and cover your body with the comforter. In your cocoon, you felt safe and it was the closest you had felt to content since falling out with Tetsu. Your heart clenched painfully just at the thought of him. Yui may have been your first crush, but Tetsu was definitely your first love and boy did it hurt a lot worse than just some crush.

SLAM!

You jumped in surprise, shooting up in bed. Bakugo was persistant, sure, but not that persistent. It sounded like the front of your house collapsed! Panicked, you hurried off the bed while simultaneously trying to throw off the comforter, but your foot got stuck and you ended up falling to the wooden floor face first.

Footsteps echoed loudly as they ran up the stairs to your room, the bedroom door opened with such a force that it bounced off the wall. “Y/N!”

That familiar voice made your head snap up, reddened from the impact to the floor. “T-Tetsu?”

His face was hard and angry, but it softened just a bit when he saw you on the floor. Normally, he would have run to you without a second thought to make sure you were okay, but with everything that had happened, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

You slowly sat back onto your knees, legs on either side of your body. “Did you break into my house?”

His body tensed up, a small line of pink coming across his cheeks. “I, uh… You wouldn’t answer the door!”

You scoffed. “I wonder how many criminals have tried that excuse.”

An awkward silence settled over the room and neither of you seemed capable of facing the other. Had you ever felt this awkward around him before? You scanned your memory, but every instance you could think of with him felt warm and comforting. You wanted that back, but… just like a piece of water, once it was crumbled up into a ball, no matter how much time you spend trying to smooth it out, it can never be perfect again. And that terrified you.

Unable to take the silence any longer, you finally spoke up, but your voice wasn’t nearly as strong as you wished it was. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you really drop out of U.A.?” he didn’t even give you a chance to respond. “Are you stupid?! Do you have any idea how many kids would kill to get into U.A.?! Into the hero course?! And you just three it away like it was nothing!”

A surge of anger rushed over you as you got to your feet, eyes narrowed at your former best friend. “What the fuck do you care for, huh? I can’t fucking win with you anymore, Tetsu! I didnt even want to apply, but I did it for you and when I got accepted, you got pissed at me because they put me in class A. And then when I give up my spot and leave the program, you’re still not happy! What do you want from me, huh?! You want me to just roll over and die so you don’t have to -!”

Tetsu couldn’t control himself. One minute he was standing in the doorway and the next he had rushed forward, his palm connecting with your cheek.

SMACK

Your eyes widened as your head tilted to the side, cheek stinging from the impact. ‘He just… hit me?’

“Don’t ever say that!” he cried, tears stinging at his eyes. “I can’t live without you, Y/N!”

You didn’t know what to say as the boy fell to his knees, tears falling down his eyes as his body shook. You had never seen him so upset, so vulnerable before. He was always strong and filled with positivity and hope, but now… He was just as broken as you were. You kneeled in front of him, hands suspended in mid-air as you tried to decide if you should comfort him or not. You didn’t want to make the situation worse, but he made the decision for you, throwing himself against your body and burying his face in your chest. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him, gently running your fingers through his mane of silver hair.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, fingers digging into your back. “I just wanted to be your hero but then you got put in class A and started doing better than me! I got jealous and I said things I didn’t mean, I… god I’m so sorry!!”

You softly shushed him, your hand running across the length of his back just as he had done to you so many times in the past. “Its okay, Tetsu, I unders -”

“It’s not!” he cried. “I pushed you away, right into the arms of that damned Bakugo!”

“Katsuki?” Your brow furrowed. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“You think I haven’t noticed how close the two of you are? He’s your new best friend, right?”

“No!” You grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back so you could see his eyes, your hands gently cupping his face. “You are my best friend, Tetsu. You always have been and always will be. I consider Katsuki a friend, sure, but he’s got nothing on you!”

His eyes met yours, his large hands sliding over your own. “In class, did you… did you mean what you said?”

With a blush in your cheeks, you nodded, offering him a smile. “I did. I love you, Tetsutetsu. You’re my everything and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“I love you, too.” He suddenly leaned forward, his lips capturing your own. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The fight was forgotten, the words scrubbed free from both of your memories. All that mattered was here and now, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You stood on the porch, leaning on the wooden railing as you watched the wind blowing the field of flowers in the distance. The house you lived in was just outside the city, within a small town that valued nature over the overwhelming number of buildings the city offered. Plus, there was little crime in the area, making it a safe place to live for families.

The screen door squeaked as it was opened and shut, the wooden floor creaking under the weight as Tetsu stepped up behind you, his arms sliding around your waist, his warm chest pressed up against your back.

“What are you doing out here?” he questioned, voice groggy after having just woken up. A gust of wind blew across the house. “It’s so hot outside, you should come back inside where it’s cool.”

You chuckled, leaning back against him. “It hasn’t been this hot in a while. It brought back some memories.”

He hummed, his lips lazily moving across your neck. “Good ones?”

“The day we met, actually. It was also this hot.”

“Yeah, it was, but your mom still made you go outside.” Tetsu chuckled. “She threatened your internet, right?”

“Yes!” You scowled at the memory, crossing your arms over your chest. “The nerve of that woman. I would never be so cruel to my child!”

He quirked a brow, turning you around to face him. “You’re planning to have a child without me?!”

You pretended to think on it a moment, laughing when he pouted at you. “Hmm, I was thinking of having a kid with that pro hero, what was his name – – Real Steel, that’s it!”

“Oh?” he smirked, leaning down to pepper kisses across your neck. “And what makes him so special?”

You groaned when he bit down softly on your flesh. “He’s such a handsome man. Strong and caring, and those abs, my god.” As if to prove your point, your hand ran under his shirt, nails scraping across his stomach. His muscles tensed and he groaned against your skin.

“You’re such a tease, Y/N.”

You chuckled, tugging at your husband’s hair so your lips could meet his. “But I’m your tease, Tetsu~”

Tetsu smiled warmly, claiming your lips with every ounce of love within his body. Yes, you were definitely his, but he was just as much yours.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

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kenbunshokus · 6 years ago

Text

#ZOSAN

zoro/sanji, nami/vivi | 3.5k words | 1 of 7 chapters

“Who are they even… 'shipping' me with? They know Usopp is with Kaya, and didn’t you just make your whole thing with Vivi public a few weeks ago—“ Zoro trails off as realization hits him, all at once, and he feels his stomach drop in the same way it would whenever he faces a particularly strong opponent in a kendo match.

“No,” he breathes.

“Obviously,” Nami says, shoves her phone into his face and points at a comment that says, OMG PLZ blonde and green are sitting side by side again. OTP! as Zoro sees his life flash before his eyes. “They’re shipping you with Sanji.”

(Or, the one where the Strawhats are Youtube personalities and people, naturally, start shipping Zoro and Sanji.)

(ao3)

catburglar 572 posts | 2.1M followers | 47 following Nami Bellemere stealing your hearts, one picture at a time http://youtube.com/user/thestrawhatshub

❤ 8,277 Likes catburglar lunch with the fam @sogeking @pirateking @strawhats #food #nofilter #cafe

View all 5,405 comments

ivolatan OMG THOSE TWO GUYS ARE IN THE PICTURE AGAIN

bananapigeon ok seriously, who are those two untagged guys in these pics. esp the blond one with the eyebrow. i keep seeing them in the vlogs too.

mikphail @catburglar Can you tell us the name of the green-haired guy sitting on the right? Beside the blonde? Asking for a friend.

“People are asking for you,” is the first thing Nami says as Zoro walks into the apartment she shares with Usopp and heads straight towards the fridge.

“Which people?” Zoro asks, suspicious. The comment seems innocent out of context, but Zoro narrows his eyes at her anyways because it’s Nami. “Actual people? Or,” he pauses, sifting through his mental vocabulary before giving up and settling with, “your people.”

He can hear her laugh from the living room. “Zoro, people from the internet are still real people.”

“They aren’t just people,” Usopp pokes his head out of his room to join in the conversation, “they are the subscribers, nay, followers— nay — fans of the Great Usopp—“

“They’re strangers,” Zoro points out, matter-of-factly. He doesn’t really get this whole…internet thing Usopp and Nami seem to have made a decent amount of money from no matter how many Technology 101 Lectures from Franky he’s sat through. They work for Luffy’s YouTube Channel—the Strawhats Hub—and post a bunch of videos online about how they have burger for lunch or some other mundane shit, and somehow people pay for that. Well, the sponsors pay for that, technically, but they get money all the same. Zoro doesn’t really get it.

He does understand one thing for sure, though. “I don’t give out my details to strangers.”

“Zoro, you’re like, a decade too old for Stranger Danger,” Nami says, disapproving, “and you know you can’t avoid being famous if you want to be the strongest swordsman in the world.”

Zoro sighs at the familiar argument between them, and makes sure he groans loud enough for her to hear. He’s usually up for any kind of sparring, verbal or otherwise, but not today—not after four back-to-back, two-hour lectures at the university and kendo club training afterwards with no breaks in between. He snatches the nearest canned beer with a little too much force, and it hits the fridge door with a loud bang.

Nami seems to catch on the sour mood and switches the subject. “You know, I think they’re shipping you.”

Zoro blinks. He waits for a second, two, three...yeah, the words still don't make sense. He gives her a confused stare. “What does that even mean?”

“it means they want you to be together with someone,” Usopp, their designated Technology-to-Zoro translator, explains. “Like, together together.”

Zoro scoffs. “What is this, high school?” He waves a dismissive hand at Nami, deciding to focus more on the free beer in his hand instead, eyeing it appreciatively. Nami’s an unpredictable storm with a flexible moral compass reminiscent of a witch, but she provides an endless supply of booze and is the only person who can hold her own against him, so Zoro figures it all balances out in the end.

The cold liquid hits the back of his throat with a familiar biting sensation, and it calms him down enough to finally process Usopp’s words. “Who are they even… shipping me with?” The foreign word stumbles clumsily out of his mouth, and he pauses, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. “They know Usopp is with Kaya, and didn’t you just make your whole thing with Vivi public a few weeks ago—“

Zoro trails off as realization hits him, all at once, and he feels his stomach drop in the same way it would whenever he faces a particularly strong opponent in a kendo match.

“No,” he breathes.

“Obviously,” Nami says, shoves her phone into his face and points at a YouTube comment that says, OMG PLZ blonde and green are sitting side by side again. OTP! as Zoro sees his life flash before his eyes. “They’re shipping you with Sanji.”

nami @catburglar

We’re kind of bored, so @sogeking and I are answering everyone’s questions in the next hour! Don’t forget to use the hashtag #AskUsoNa <3

nami @catburglar

so a million dollar AND a free trip around the world? I’d take it!

\m/ @queenmelissa

Would you get a million dollar but every time you sneeze you’re being teleported to a random place in the world #Askusona

nami @catburglar

I’ve known Usopp since high school. I’ve known Luffy the longest, though. We’ve been friends since we were cute little ten-year-olds.

Jenna Rowen @jrowen

#AskUsoNa How did you get to know each other? Love your vids!

nami @catburglar

Zoro and Sanji are roommates, not dating. Or are they? ;)

bad luck kate @gingerchic

are the two guys in some of your vids dating (U KNOW WHICH TWO) #askusona @sogeking @catburglar

bad luck kate @gingerchic replying to @catburglar

HOLY SHIT DID U JUST

bad luck kate @gingerchic replying to @gingerchic @catburglar

WE JUST GOT A FUCKING NAMES REVEAL. @ STRAWHAT RPF FANDOM THIS IS NOT A DRILL

The smell of well-cooked seafood, mixed with a tinge of booze, touches every nook and cranny of his apartment as people eat, drink, or laugh with each other (or, in Luffy’s case, all three of them at once). Zoro sprawls comfortably across his favorite sofa in the middle of the cacophony, and he closes his eyes, soaking in the familiar atmosphere, a half-empty can of beer dangling by his right hand.

Today isn’t their usual weekly Friday Night Hang Out; today, Ace is on leave from the military for the first time in ages. Luffy promised his big brother a huge, awesome feast, and their ragtag group of broke college students deliver the way they know how—His and Sanji’s apartment, Brook’s music, Sanji’s food.

Zoro doesn’t care much about parties, but he does like Ace and his stories about Whitebeard's platoon. Free booze is also a plus.

“Tired already?” A voice asks over his head, and Zoro has spent enough time with Luffy’s family ever since he was ten to know it’s Ace without having to look up.

“As if,” he says, skipping the greeting. “Just making sure I don’t appear in Usopp’s videos.” He thinks of the photo Nami showed him a few days ago, the one on the… instant… gram… thing… and adds, “or photos.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about that!” Ace plops onto the other sofa across the table, entering Zoro’s field of vision. “I heard somebody’s famous now.”

“Tch,” Zoro grunts, but refuses to elaborate. He doesn’t like where the conversation is going.

“And I heard,” Ace continues anyways, his grin all-too-innocent and therefore completely terrifying, “someone’s famous with someone else.”

Zoro jolts upright from his position, for once ignoring the beer he spilled on the carpet—Sanji will kill him for that later, but whatever—and turns to search for Usopp among the crowd. He glares at Usopp in a way that says, I’m going to deliver you a drawn-out, painful death, and Usopp pointedly looks anywhere but back at him.

Ace chuckles, impervious to Zoro’s death glares. “Actually, Luffy was the one who told me.”

“The shipping thing sounds so cool,” Luffy, that traitor, chimes in around a mouthful of meatballs. “I wonder who they’d ship me with.”

“Meat, probably,” Sanji says before Zoro could, and bodily pushes Luffy aside with his leg to place a plateful of fried prawns on the table. Both brothers’ eyes widen comically at the sight and the two of them dive into the plate as Sanji narrows his eyes at Zoro, “that is, if people can even be trusted these days. I still can’t believe they, what’s the word— ship me with marimo head over here when Nami is also in the picture.”

That—well.

Stings a little.

Zoro mentally maneuvers around the flare of jealousy and opts for anger, because it’s easier. Familiar. “Not like I’m enjoying the idea of being a boyfriend of someone with those eyebrows,” he fires back.

Sanji’s left eye twitches at that. “Didn’t know you have enough intelligence to even form an idea, seaweed brain.”

“Pervert cook.”

“Brainless moss.”

“Please keep the lover’s spat within the privacy of your bedroom,” Nami teases as she somehow manages to gracefully pluck a prawn out of the mess Ace and Luffy are making on the table.

“Right, Mellorine!” Sanji sing-songs in record speed.

Zoro sighs and puts his face in his hand. “Do you even listen to yourself, idiot,” he says, and narrowly dodges a kick to the head.

“Says the person who got lost so often the train station officers from the neighboring city start recognizing him!” Sanji yells back, and avoids the pillow thrown at him with practiced ease clearly born through repeated fights.

“How are you two even friends,” Ace observes in between chews, amused.

Zoro and Sanji instantly whip their heads towards Ace in unison, and say, in eerie synchronicity, “we’re not friends.”

Nami shakes her head, but it’s fond. “That’s how.”

❤ 2,103 Likes catburglar exclusive photo of Zoro enjoying Sanji’s food #nofilter #candid

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martiknee I assume Sanji is a chef, then?

thefantasyren I still can’t believe we’ve been blessed with their names. Strawhat Fandom, rejoice!

ostenmah @martiknee ur an idiot, he could just be someone whos really good at cooking

martiknee Wow, thanks for the unprompted hostility, I was just asking. Either way, do you fucking have eyes, look at those prawns. Look me in the eyes and tell me he cooks THOSE and doesn’t cook for a living. @ostenmah

brie @strawhatnami

so I heard Zoro is in his college’s kendo club

a gay @bisexualusopp replying to @strahwatnami

he’s the CAPTAIN

brie @strawhatnami replying to @bisexualusopp

source pls?

Kal @THEKALZONE replying to @strawhatnami @bisexualusopp

can confirm, my brother goes to the same college as him, wasn’t exactly difficult to find a dude w green hair named zoro

a gay @bisexualusopp replying to @THEKALZONE @strawhatnami

apparently he used to appear on a bunch of tv shows about modern swordsmen or sth with his sister back then?

brie @strawhatnami replying to @bisexualusopp @THEKALZONE

HOLY SHIT I REMEMBER WATCHING IT WHEN I WAS LIKE. FIVE. kuina was my fave. I wonder if she goes to the same college too?

The thing is—the crux of the problem of this whole mess of a situation is that—Zoro has code. Some sort of personal, unsaid rules he has dedicated his life to following. And now this whole fiasco is slowly breaking these codes—two, particularly:

Zoro, as a general rule, dislikes attention. He used to be some sort of a child star way back when, before Usopp and Nami and even Luffy, before—the thing with Kuina. It was hardly bearable when Kuina was with him, holding his hand whenever it started to tremble during tapings, and now with her gone he’s not touching that industry with a ten-feet pole. That means no stupid interviews with awkward pauses and one-word answers, no troublesome photo shoots that leave him with cramps at places he didn’t know could get cramps, and most importantly, no getting recognized on the street by random strangers. He looks like shit on photos. He doesn’t even have an autograph.

Zoro has the largest, most pathetic crush on Sanji, and nobody can find out.

The second rule is more important than the first, of course. So far the breaking of the first code only results in minor inconveniences, but the fact that there’s a whole group of people dedicated to telling the world that Zoro wants to get into Sanji’s pants is not something he can live with. Not something Sanji can live with, that’s for sure. Sanji has been brushing them off as a joke, thankfully, but Zoro figures there’s only so much the Straightest Man on Earth could take before he would start avoiding Zoro in disgust and pretty much stomping on Zoro’s heart in the process.

Which is why, as soon as he spots Usopp coming out of the college’s workshop, Zoro stops him in his track and growls, “this is all your fault.”

Usopp covers his head out of instinct and stammers, “whatever it is, I didn’t do it and I’m sorry.”

Zoro crosses his arms in front of his chest and huffs. “Stop it—I’d never hit you just because I feel like it.”

“This bump on the right side of my head disagrees,” Usopp says as he peeks through his fingers, “I think it’s developing into a tumor .”

“You can’t get a tumor from getting knocked in the head,” Zoro says.

“I don’t think you’re qualified to make that judgment,” Usopp insists, but visibly relaxes anyways when he doesn’t see Zoro’s hands anywhere near his head. “What is it?”

“It’s just,” Zoro says, almost ominously. “People.”

“You’re not a fan of them. Yeah, I got that, like, five years ago when I first met you.”

“Shut up, I’m not done. People, they—“ Zoro drops his voice as low as possible to adequately convey the severity of his predicament, “—they started recognizing me. From your pictures.”

Usopp visibly perks up at that. “I know , right? People say, Usopp, being famous on the internet is nothing, no one’s going to know who you are in real life, but hater’s gonna hate, you know? One time a princess from a European country asked for my autograph—“

“It’s not a good thing,” Zoro cuts in, ignoring Usopp’s make-believe story. “Three different people asked for my photograph on the way here. A girl tried taking a picture while I was eating and I accidentally spat in her face.”

Usopp at least has the audacity to grimace at that. “I guess—I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but come on, Zoro, live a little!” He emphasizes with a friendly pat on Zoro’s shoulder. “There are, literally, thousands of people lining up to be in your shoes.”

Zoro can’t help bristling at the touch. “I didn’t sign up for this. Not like you and Nami did, with Luffy and the whole YouTube thing,” he says and adds, more urgently, “especially not for the whole thing with the Cook.”

Usopp should know. Usopp does know, because Zoro told him once under the influence of one too many drinks. They never really talked about it afterwards because Zoro has the emotional constipation of a sixteen-year-old emo teen who still listens to My Chemical Romance, and Usopp has enough self-preservation instinct not to bring it up, but there’s always this silent agreement that Usopp knows.

Usopp raises his hands in the universal sign of defeat. “Look, I admit things did go out of hands a little bit, but it’s nothing big. It’s the internet. People will ship any two people who so much breathe the same air.”

Zoro narrows his eyes critically at Usopp, and while Usopp gulps under the scrutiny, he also looks—honest. Trustworthy. Damn it, Zoro does have a soft spot for his tattletale of a friend, and one day it’s going to be his downfall.

“All right, fine, I’ll take your word for it,” he says, and Usopp releases a relieved sigh, which immediately gets sucked back in as soon as Zoro growls, “but if Nami even says something remotely different—“

“If I say something what?”

Zoro is a skillful and trained martial art practitioner. Rumor has it that he has no openings; opponents who go into a fight expecting one would get a reality check in the form of a kendo sword to the head. He’s like a wild predator, they all say, and you are his natural prey.

They are all wrong. Sitting comfortably on the apex of the food pyramid is Nami, and she knows all of Zoro’s weaknesses like the back of her hand.

Zoro jumps and thinks his heart stops for a moment as Nami appears out of nowhere and joins in the conversation, and she laughs when she notices his surprise.

“Shut up,” he growls, and she just grins even wider.

“I was just telling him about the shippers,” Usopp fills her in, oblivious to Zoro’s mini-heart attack, “that they’re. You know. Harmless?”

Zoro doesn’t like the unspoken question mark tacked at the end of Usopp’s sentence, and he likes it even less when Nami says, “well, I wouldn’t exactly call them harmless.”

Zoro glowers at that. “Explain.”

“I mean, you’ve been way too closed up about yourself, you’re practically an urban legend,” Nami says, “and people love knowing things, Zoro. It makes them feel like they’re part of something special. When the internet wants something, there’s no stopping the internet.”

“Like legalizing weed,” Usopp adds, “give them information and you can control what’s coming out. Give them nothing and you’re unleashing a hungry beast.”

“I’m not going to start using The Instant Gram for them,” Zoro says, frustrated, and bits his lips in a way that almost resembles a pout. Not that he pouts, of course.

“I told you it’s not called the Instant—you know what, I tried,” Usopp says under his breath, and Zoro ignores him.

“We’ve been at this before, you know,” Nami continues, shaking her head, “they want to know things about you, and they’re going to find out. Age. Height. Blood type. The brand of shampoo you use. Which side of the bed you’re sleeping in. The fact that you have a crush on Sanji—“

Zoro stops in his track. He blinks. “No one—no one knows that,” he says, and curses himself for stuttering. He catches Usopp’s eyes, and reluctantly adds, “unless I told them.”

“You never told me,” Nami points out.

“You don’t count,” Zoro insists, “you can read me like a book.”

“I want to be flattered,” Nami pats him on the head, like humoring a small child, “but it frankly doesn’t feel like much of an accomplishment when your book only says I HAVE A CRUSH ON SANJI in eighty point bold font.”

He definitely doesn’t blush at that. Desperate, he turns to Usopp. “This isn’t what you told me.”

Nami looks at him, and is that—damn it. Is that pity in her eyes? “Zoro, I don’t know what lies Usopp has been telling you this time, but everyone knows you have a Big Gay Crush on Sanji.”

“One, it’s not a—a Big Gay Crush,” he sputters, “and two, both of you hardly counts as ‘everyone.’”

“No, really,” Nami says as she pulls up safari on her iPhone to open the fuckyeahzosan tumblr page, “I mean everyone.”

FuckYeahZosan

The very first Zosan Blog. Zoro and Sanji flirt with each other and ignore everyone else in group pictures because they’re assholes in love.

mods: zorosanjis and queerbellemere

our edits

fanart | fanfics | fanmixes

fuckyeahzosan

Nami just posted a new picture and it’s everything we’ve ever hoped for.

#sanji is cooking for zoro #what is air #zosan #official

452 notes

fuckyeahzosan reblogged zoro-sanji-for-the-win

I can’t believe we only got their names a month ago and today we’ve got two dozens new pictures where they surreptitiously look into each other’s eyes, found out they’ve been roommates for years, gone on yearly road trips with just the two of them, and are practically canon.

I feel like this has all been a collective fever dream we just haven’t woken up from.

It’s all real and you better believe it.

#reblogged #text

2,252 notes

anonymous asked

Ugh, people like you are the reason why I hate the Strawhat Fandom so much. Zoro and Sanji aren’t even SIGNED to the Strawhats Agency. They’re just FRIENDS of Nami and Usopp. And now they’re the most popular pairing in this fandom? Bullshit.

Sorry, we can’t hear you over how often Zoro and Sanji appear in the Strawhats' videos they may as well be Strawhats, and how even Shanks treat them like they’re part of the fandom.

#asks and answers #mod a

564 notes

fuckyeahzosan reblogged queennami

zoro + looking at sanji with a love-struck look on his face when he thinks no one’s looking

#THE THING THAT REALLY GOT ME ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP #or friendship or whatever #is that it’s so loud and flashy you can’t help but notice #but with glimpses of quiet moments like this #like you KNOW they have the typical alpha male friendship #roughhousing and name calling; the whole package #from the way nami and usopp talk about them in interviews and stuff #and how they glare at each other in pictures with insults teetering on the tips of their tongues #but sometimes we get glimpses of this when they think no one’s looking #zoro staring at sanji – startsruck – like there are constellations clinging on sanji’s back #and there’s always that small smile zoro probably reserves just for sanji #and I Die #stab me in the chest and it would’ve hurt less #zoro #sanji #zosan #strawhatedit #rpf for ts (via queennami)

#reblogged #photoset #tags #lord have mercy on me

4,425 notes

Usopp is so going home with a new bump on his head.

#zosan #namivivi #roronoa zoro #sanji #one piece #my writing //#zoro #op

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porchwood · 6 years ago

Text

Fic Bits 2018: The One That Got Away

Modern AU; Madge POV. Jude/Madge, Gale/Madge.

They say you can never go home again, and yet here I am, packing to do just that.

The second autumn after you graduate from college is when the niggling feeling starts, like you left town without returning your library books or forgot to put the new insurance card in your glove compartment. When the first one comes around, you’re elated that you don’t have to think – let alone worry – about registering for classes, mapping your daily routes across campus, or buying school supplies of any kind, but by the second you’re starting to feel like something’s wrong. It’s easy to understand why so many people fall into teaching. Your body gets set on that routine, so that going back to school in fall is as instinctual to humans as seasonal migrations are to birds.

Ironically, it was the school year that determined this move – or rather, the school year that necessitated it, though the fall semester is already several weeks underway. Beginning in January, Dad will be teaching again for the first time since I was in elementary school – and, doubt it not, loving every minute of it.

At twenty-three my life could and probably should be independent of my parents’, but no matter which way I turned the situation around in my mind, there was no truly good reason not to move back with them. As badly as I don’t want to go back to the small town where I grew up, there’s nothing substantial enough to keep me here if my parents are gone.

We’ve always been thick as thieves and, oddly, moreso since moving to the capital city. The fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue that kept my mother to a quiet routine in our hometown made her a veritable recluse amidst the constant bustle of squealing brakes and blaring horns, and everything was so blindingly expensive, we rarely partook of the concerts and boutiques and exotic restaurants that had sounded so exciting from our living room back home.

Moving here as a family had been the result of two somewhat predictable stars aligning perfectly: after twelve years as mayor, Dad was elected to the state legislature and I was accepted into the music program at a small private college, a short bus ride from the capitol building. My parents rented a spacious loft halfway in-between the two, which enabled me to keep tabs on my mother while enjoying the independence of living off-campus all through school, while our place back home was loaned out to visiting professors and the like – short-term rentals to keep the utilities running and keep an eye out for any maintenance issues that might arise. I’m told I missed out on the “full college experience” by not living in a dorm, but from all accounts, it’s a party I’m glad to have skipped.

For all intents and purposes, home has been 37 Ash Terrace for the past five years. Four-and-a-half hours isn’t the longest drive, but there was always one reason or another to stay here through the holidays – which is not to say we’ve never gone back, of course. Our family revisits can be counted on two hands, but I’ve made a few extra trips on my own for special occasions, the last of which – the baptism of Katniss’s son Janni – was more than two years ago now.

I look up at my bulletin board, now stripped of everything but the central photo, and have just tugged out the tack when my phone rings. It’s a local cell number – local to our hometown, not to here – but doesn’t pull up a contact, and I cross the first two fingers of my free hand, hoping one of my cover letters has snared an interview as I answer, “Hello?”

“Is this Madeline Undersee?” asks a young male voice.

That was one of the best things about moving away, and one that I’m particularly loath to leave behind: finally getting to be Madeline, not Madge. That a young professional back home is addressing me as such, however, gives me hope.

“It is,” I affirm, and there’s a brief, quickly stifled sound from the other end before the caller goes on, “I was wondering if you might be available to play a wedding in November.”

The pieces snap together in my mind. It’s probably a local boy who went to college in the capitol like myself – it’s a common enough path – and found himself a fiancée, though it is a trifle odd for the groom to call ‘round for an accompanist.

“I’m sorry; I’m actually moving out of the area this weekend,” I reply, “but I can refer you to several other musicians who would be excellent choices.”

“I’m afraid it really has to be you,” he says with what sounds far more like mischief than regret. “What about a wedding in your hometown? Would that be a little easier to manage?”

“In –?” I break off, mind whipping through the possibilities. It’s hardly a secret that the Undersees are moving back after five years in the big city, but we’ve kept radio silence on my own return except where potential employers are concerned, so there’s no way some random local groom could even know about me, let alone want to hire me for his wedding. “Who is this?” I demand more than ask, a shy fifteen-year-old bookworm all over again, bristling in anticipation of the prank.

“You really don't know?” the young man responds, sounding genuinely surprised, and for a half-second my heart skips in hope, never mind that his voice bears no resemblance whatsoever to Gale’s rough, smoky timbre. “I’m wounded, mädchen,” he laments, and my heart trips halfway through its skip and somersaults clumsily forward to faceplant onto the concrete below.

“Jude?” I squeak.

“You haven’t forgotten me entirely, then?” he teases.

“Don’t be daft,” I retort, my stunned heart now flailing in shock. “So…you’re getting married?” I almost ask if it’s Columbine but that crush is surely ancient history now, never mind that last I heard, she was headed to some fashion design or modeling program out east.

“Don’t be daft,” he throws back with characteristic self-deprecation, but the affection beneath it wraps about me like a blanket – or one of Jude’s incredible lingering hugs. “But I do need a wedding accompanist,” he goes on, “which as I said, really has to be you, but I want to tell you about it in person. When are you back?”

“Well – tomorrow,” I reply, and the whole thing suddenly feels surreal. “Well, the day after, really,” I clarify. “Tomorrow’s the drive up and the U-Haul unload. Mom and Dad hired movers but you still want to go through everything, you know?”

“Of course,” he assures me. “Want to meet at Primavera for Saturday lunch – say, 11:30? My treat.”

“Primavera?” I puzzle. There’s never been an Italian restaurant in our hometown – it’s too small and rural to sustain any such – but the nearby city has a few shopping malls and a much wider selection of eateries; it makes sense that Jude would want to go to one of them. “What – where is that?” I ask.

He gives a little choke of laughter in reply. “Have you really been away so long, mädchen?” he wonders, but something about my ignorance seems to amuse – even delight – him. “It’s Italian – awesome Italian – right next to Mellarks’.”

“There’s nothing next to Mellarks’,” I counter, because our tiny historic downtown has never been able to keep shops for long, not with countless department stores and discount stores not twenty miles off. “Unless…are we having a sidewalk picnic, Judah?” I venture, almost hopefully, and he laughs.

“If the first date goes well, we can do whatever you want on the second,” he replies, and I miss him so much that I snatch up a pillow with my free hand and hug it to my chest as hard as I can. “But I promise: there is a legit Italian restaurant next to Mellarks’,” he says. “I’m going to buy you lunch there on Saturday, and you’re going to love it so much that you’ll refuse to live out of takeout range ever again.”

“Color me intrigued,” I tease. “As much about your mysterious wedding as this new eatery.”

“They’re both worth the wait,” he promises, and I can hear the grin in his voice.

“I missed you,” I blurt and Jude falls suddenly, uncharacteristically silent. There are any number of well-deserved retorts he could hand me, ranging from You didn’t have to to I didn’t go anywhere, but Jude is the sweetest boy I’ve ever known – on a level with Peeta, really – and even in our most frustrated moments, he never addressed me half as harshly as Gale would on a good day.

I think I hurt him a long time ago, though he’s never said as much.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, and the corners of my eyes prickle hotly.

I don’t want to go home – you can never go home again, everyone says as much – don’t want to explain why I have a music degree from a respectable college and am looking for any old day job in my hometown and living with my parents. I don’t want to see Gale Hawthorne – never mind how wildly I do want to see him – to face all the inevitable jibes about how I “couldn’t make it in the real world.”

But if Jude – sweet, funny, precious Jude – is coming back into my life, it just might be bearable. He’ll have a job and new friends now – a girlfriend, to be sure – and he may not even live in town any longer. But we can grab lunches together here and there and laugh about stuff that happened in high school. Maybe we’ll find new things to laugh about.

“See you Saturday?” I say.

“I’ll be the one with the red ribbon,” he replies.

As always, I’m the one who hangs up.

Jude always let me end our calls, always hanging on in case of one last thought or lament, one more drawn-out Night-night or See you tomorrow.

Looking down at the phone in my hand, I remember the incredibly idiotic reason Jude isn’t saved as a contact anymore and sit on my stripped mattress, both arms curled around the pillow and my chin resting on its edge. It was stupid and childish – and ultimately pointless, because he didn’t try to get in touch at all after that. Oh, he did the usual friendly Facebook stuff – comments on my posts and the like – because Jude is that kind of sweet, but he’d never do anything to make me uncomfortable.

And also, maybe, he was hurt.

It’s not as if I shut him out – there were no calls or texts or emails to ignore – and you could hardly call my across-the-state move for college “avoidance,” but it certainly aided me to that end, especially five summers ago.

I bite my lips together for a long moment, silently call myself an idiot, and save the number as a new contact: Judah Tolliver. Neat, professional, and objective, like a grown-up. After all, if he’s hiring me for a wedding we’ll be exchanging calls and texts over the next few months; there’s no reason not to add him to my phone.

Returning to my call history, I dial Rue, the high school friend I’ve stayed closest to by virtue of us attending the same college. Our courses of study and career veered apart over the past few years as Rue set aside music to pursue dance full-bore and is currently spending her days with a traveling company that does famous ballets in a pared-down, intimate contemporary style, with dreamlike costumes that I suspect her father has a hand in, but we’ve stubbornly kept in touch all this while, meeting for a meal and a chat whenever her schedule allows.

She’s halfway across the country dancing Swanilda in Coppélia this season, so our farewell supper took place about two weeks ago. I don’t expect her to answer and am beyond surprised when she does.

“Hey chickie-babe!” she cries. “Are you home? I’ve only got a minute but I want to hear all about it. How did your house hold up?”

“We haven’t left yet,” I tell her. “We’re loading the U-Haul tonight and driving back tomorrow.”

“So where’s the fire?” she teases. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you to bits, but why call now? Are you getting sad about leaving – or going back?”

Rue understands my misgivings, even if she doesn’t share them. After I told my parents I’d move back with them, I curled up on Rue’s couch and cried myself into a stupor while she nestled her tiny fairy-form around me in a supportive hug. Going home is not failure, she told me over and over again, her husky voice sounding so like her mother’s as she rubbed my back in soothing circles. You and your parents have always supported each other; it makes sense you’d go back with them, at least for a little – and it’s not forever, not if you don’t want it to be.

Rue’s parents – a costumer and a choreographer – left the capitol when they started having kids and heartily embraced small town life in the heartland, but they both had vibrant careers behind them and were ready for quiet inexpensive living, for Piggly Wiggly and the county fair and a fixer-upper farmhouse, and they quickly found avenues to exercise their talents on a smaller scale.

I’m a year and a half out of college with eleven wedding gigs, five funerals, and a teaching slot at the local conservatory to show for twenty years at the piano and a B.A. with high distinction.

“Jude just called,” I reply by way of explanation. “He wants to hire me for a wedding –”

“His?” she interjects impishly.

“No,” I quell, “but he wouldn’t tell me who it is over the phone either. We’re meeting for lunch on Saturday to discuss it.”

“Meeting for lunch to discuss a mysterious wedding right after you move back to town?” she presses slyly. “Maybe it’s yours!”

Rue knows there’s nothing of that sort between Jude and me and never has been, but she’s equally convinced that there must be, or should’ve been. He adores you, you know, she’s told me time and again. Like, Peeta-and-Katniss level devotion. Couldn’t you just kiss him once and see what happens?

“Be serious,” I snort.

“I am,” she insists. “I never understood why the pair of you never got together, or why you fell out of touch after graduation. Jude was crazy about you –”

“He was like that with everyone,” I counter. “The sweet, funny thing – that’s just his natural demeanor.”

“And did he ask everyone to marry him if their respective crushes married other people?” she wonders.

“He said we should go on a date, not get married,” I remind her, the edge of a snap creeping into my voice. “It was a low moment and a long time ago. We were both feeling angsty.”

I don’t mention the other thing, the thing I’ve never told anyone – not even myself when I can help it.

“Well…maybe it’s time, sweetie,” she posits quietly. “Maybe Columbine finally found a husband and Jude wants to give the pair of you a chance.”

“I really don’t think that’s it,” I tell her, oddly wearied by the subject, but judging by the increasing volume of background noise, Rue’s about to be pulled away anyway.

“Sorry, I have to go,” she admits at the selfsame moment. “I’ll be back in a few weeks myself, but call me ASAP after your lunch with Jude, okay?”

“You got it,” I promise, and we hang up. I set the phone on my mattress, next to the photo of Gale Hawthorne from the state hockey finals seven years ago, and sigh.

I haven’t seen him since the reception after Ashpet’s baptism, and it wasn’t the most auspicious encounter.

I’d never struck a man before – or since – and certainly never in a church basement.

“Magpie?”

My father pokes his head through the open doorway. “Movers just got here,” he says. “Is your room ready to go?”

I tuck the picture of Gale inside my battered paperback of Jane Eyre, just behind the Candygram with the red ribbon threaded across the top and tied in a perfect, pressed, bow. “This is it,” I affirm, and slip the book into my purse before following my father downstairs.

As a tween I was enamored of the 1995 remake of Sabrina and resolved to head off to school with a photo of Gale – obligingly supplied by Jude, who worked on the yearbook – to pin on my bulletin board and systematically cover with playbills, flyers, ticket stubs, and the like. But I could never quite bring myself to obscure him completely, and when I went to London for my semester abroad I brought him there too, to try and forget in a foreign land.

The book is a Gale token too, also obtained for me by Jude.

I finagled to take Senior Lit in spring of my junior year in order to free up an elective senior year and as a result took the class with Jude. The first book on the slate was Jane Eyre – which I loved, somewhat to my surprise – and in true high school fashion, each copy had a log card inside the cover for the present user to write their name on, beneath the names of the book’s previous readers. Of course, neither Jude nor I got Gale’s but we knew someone had it, and at Jude’s graduation party – months after all the books had been checked back in – he stole me away to his room to press the prized copy into my hands.

I think you were looking for this, he said as I opened the cover, frantically scanned the names inscribed therein and threw my arms around him with a shriek.

But Jude, I realized, pulling back with a start, you swiped this; what if they won’t let you graduate-?

I just did, he reminded me gleefully, and the diploma is signed, sealed, and securely secreted in Mom’s wall safe as we speak. Anyway, it wasn’t my copy, so even if they do notice it’s missing, it’s not me they’d come after.

I looked back at the last name on the card – Annie Cresta – and shook my head at him. If she gets in trouble for this, I warned.

She won’t, he promised. They don’t care that much about one of twenty-three beat-up paperbacks, and it means a whole lot more to you than to the school.

I hugged him again, fiercely this time, and he curled his arms around me with a little sigh. I’m so glad you like your present, mädchen, he murmured. I know it’s not you graduating, but I wanted to beat the rush.

I spent most of Senior Lit associating Gale with Mr. Rochester, to Jude’s clear chagrin, which was curious as he didn’t seem to like the character any more than he did my sullen, dark-haired crush. I’ll grant you similarities, he agreed, but can you imagine Gale delivering that beautiful string speech in any universe?

We took our Jane Eyre final on Valentine’s Day, and in the class directly following I received an anonymous Candygram with a strawberry lollipop affixed, a red ribbon painstaking woven through neat holes punched across the top and tied in a small bow, and the handwritten message:

“I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you – especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly.”

I wished so badly for it to be from Gale – never mind he wasn’t even in school anymore, let alone inclined to quote Charlotte Brontë – or maybe that I had some other mysterious tall-dark-and-handsome admirer, but I knew exactly who it was from and let my head fall against his shoulder as we sat next to each other in the choir room, his literary Valentine cupped in my hands.

Jude’s breath caught a little at the gesture, then leveled out in a long slow sigh.

Thanks, Jude, I whispered.

We both knew it wasn’t a real love note but I treasured it as one just the same, pressed between the pages of my student planner until finding a worthier setting inside Gale’s copy of Jane Eyre. The book and Candygram went everywhere with me – every summer camp and weekend trip during my senior year and in college, on every choir tour, every visit back home, all across Europe on my backpacking trip with Rue and then on to my bedside table in England. If I couldn’t lay hands on it at a moment’s notice I’m not sure I’d be able to breathe.

The movers are quiet and efficient and the truck is loaded in a fraction of the time we anticipated, prompting Dad and me to hash out the pros and cons of setting out tonight instead, but there are plenty of last-minute little things to wrap up and we’d all prefer to make the drive on a good night’s sleep – which unfortunately, is not to be had for me. Dad booked us a hotel room in the suburbs for convenience, so we could check out of the loft as soon as the truck was loaded and leave in the morning without having to wait for one last walk-through with the landlord, but while he and Mom drift off quickly in their queen bed, I frown up at the ceiling from the sofa sleeper, contemplating Jude and Jane Eyre.

The capitol is a long way off, mädchen…

My junior year – Jude’s senior year – was like high school is in the movies: a charmed, wonderful dream that feels like it’ll never end. In October Peeta finally plucked up the nerve to ask Katniss out, and their relationship brought both her and I – and to a lesser extent, Rue – firmly into the Mellark circle. Jude and I had been friendly before that, but he’s both cousin and close friend to the Mellark brothers, and as a result he and I were thrown together almost constantly at meals, school events, even youth group outings. We jokingly called these “triple dates” or “quad dates” sometimes, since the rest of our group consisted of fast-and-firm couples – Peeta and Katniss, Luka and Johanna, and often Finnick and Annie as well – but no one ever seemed to take the idea of Jude and me as a couple seriously.

We were madrigal seat partners that December, which necessitated all kinds of marriage banter throughout the dinners, then after Christmas came Senior Lit and Jane Eyre and auditions for school’s production of Fiddler on the Roof. Determined not to miss out on a role when my best friends were undeniable shoo-ins, I dyed my hair a deep chestnut-brown the night before my tryout – solidly shocking everyone in my acquaintance, but it served its purpose when I was cast as Tzeitel. I’d had my hopes set on playing any one of the sisters and forgot until the read-through that I was playing the one whose wedding is a major showpiece of the play – and that I would be marrying Jude, made even more endearing in little round glasses.

I’d never had so much fun, before or since.

I left most of my high school mementos at home when we moved to the capitol but the Fiddler album has stayed with me, and from time to time I page through the photos, the notes that came with flowers from my parents and teachers, the programs that we all signed – and the subsequent ridiculous everyday notes from Jude addressed to “Wifey” and “Mrs. Kamzoil.”

Prom came around in April and our school required everyone to attend in pairs, so it was effectively decided over youth group pizza after a highway trash cleanup that I would be going with Jude. I’d nourished a pipe dream that Gale might magically materialize and ask me to go with him – you could attend with someone who had graduated and it happened now and again, with college freshmen coming back to escort their girlfriends – but when he actually did appear at the dance it was with Leevy, his flavor-of-the-month girlfriend, if the rumors were to be believed.

I still had my brown hair at prom-time, which Jude lamented to no end while alternately telling me that I was “gorgeous just the same” and making me laugh at the silliest things. The dance was a blast for the first two hours, and then Katniss and Peeta quietly revealed to our group that they were engaged, with plans to marry the following spring after graduation.

Their courtship had been rapid and intense – emotionally, not physically – and no one was surprised that marriage was forthcoming, but the timetable was shocking to say the least. None of us believed that Katniss was pregnant or anything of the sort but they were both barely seventeen, and neither had any interest in going on to college. Peeta had a career waiting at the bakery he loved and Katniss was supremely adaptable to almost any kind of work – and neither was closing the door on trade schools or vocational degrees, if a good fit should present itself. They had decided – rather practically – to spend their senior year planning the wedding and finding a home rather than fretting over the ACT and college applications, and they would get married at the end of May, before the weather got too hot and everyone headed off to college.

It was a preposterous and entirely sound plan.

Peeta and Katniss skipped the school-sponsored after-prom party, unsurprisingly, while the rest of us splintered off into contemplative pairs. Finnick and Annie and Luka and Johanna both seemed as good as engaged to me, but the announcement had rattled them as well, and Jude and I wound up watching the smarmy stage hypnotist by ourselves in a subdued sort of silence.

It wasn’t that either of us was unhappy at the news, exactly. While I considered Katniss my best friend, we had never been chatty in typical girlfriend-fashion, and yet her impending marriage struck my stomach like an icy stone. You’ll be going to college anyway, I reminded myself, and you’ll stay in touch, but none of this served to soothe.

Jude absently wrapped his tux jacket around my shoulders and then his arm, resting his cheek on the top of my head. He’d barely spoken since the engagement reveal and I couldn’t begin to guess what his uncharacteristic silence meant.

It sounds really nice, he said suddenly, softly. Staying right here, getting married, coming home to a wife and babies.

I wanted to retort something dry and mildly caustic but couldn’t find the words for any reply at all because it was nice, this future Peeta and Katniss were setting up for themselves. I wanted to continue with music as long as I could; to study abroad, to live in the capitol and maybe other cities in due course,, but that wasn’t the future either Katniss or Peeta wanted, and why should they force themselves through the college mold, going eyes-deep in debt for degrees they had no interest in and possibly jeopardizing their relationship with the distance and other, inevitable, obstacles when the future they both craved was easily within their grasp?

Madeline, Jude continued in that same soft tone – I was always Madeline or, affectionately, mädchen to him – if Columbine and Gale marry other people, will you go on a date with me?

Almost as long as Jude and I have been friends, we’ve been aware of each other’s hopeless longing for an oblivious sweetheart and openly commiserated about it, with no fear – or even thought – of annoying each other or hurting feelings. Butcher’s son Jude was in love with Columbine Wilhearn, all black curls and lovely voice, whose mother was a small-scale – if highly in-demand – clothing designer and I was in love with broody, breathtaking Gale, whose mother managed the local laundromat and who despised my very existence because, as the mayor’s daughter, I had surely been born to privilege – never mind that my father had been a music teacher before his election and that as mayor he served a rural town of some 8000 people and dealt with weighty matters like dog waste ordinances and ribbon cuttings for tiny antique shops.

We’d both made periodic, futile attempts to elicit our respective crush’s attentions, but somehow for the course of that year – the year of madrigal seat partners and Jane Eyre and getting married on-stage in Fiddler – the longing had felt a little less pressing. Jude still ordered flowers for Columbine on opening night – she was playing the female lead, after all – but in other circumstances he would’ve done so for every performance, not just the first, and he brought me flowers too – a vaseful of red tulips from his mother’s garden to brighten my corner of the greenroom. And while I knew he’d asked Columbine to prom their junior year – and been turned down, of course – I don’t think he even tried the next time around, just cheerfully stepped up to escort me when the opportunity arose.

In fact, to the outside observer, Jude and I probably appeared to be dating for the past year.

The realization left me cross, embarrassed and oddly weary. Jude and I were just friends, everybody knew it, but could we have inadvertently sabotaged each other’s crushes by spending so much time together? Would Gale have emerged to ask me out if I hadn’t been so immersed in the Mellark circle this year – and in Jude’s company in particular?

We’re at prom, I reminded him, my tone shorter than he deserved. I’m wearing an evening gown and your tux jacket. How much more of a date do you want?

I want to pick you up at your house, he replied without hesitation, a brush of lips against my lilac-threaded crown braid. Just you and me and maybe your dad on the porch, to shake hands and talk about the weather and remind me to have you back by 10:00, and I’ll tell you how beautiful you look as I slide an orchid on your wrist. We’ll go to a fancy restaurant and trade bites of our entrees and steal a pepper shaker when we leave, just to see if we can get away with it. We’ll hold hands under the table and slow-dance like it means something, not just because we came together and it’s obligatory, and when I drop you at home, you might let me kiss you under the porchlight.

I pulled away to look up at him, at those gentle smoky eyes – gray like Gale’s and yet absolutely, utterly, nothing like Gale’s – and tried to decide whether to throttle him or burst into tears, because I knew he didn’t mean any of this the way it sounded but it was still the sweetest thing I’d ever heard – and remains so to this day. But I didn’t want Jude – I didn’t, I was sure of it – and he didn’t want me, he was just getting broody – in the hen fashion, not the Gale fashion – because of Peeta’s engagement and Columbine had remained stubbornly indifferent to him, even in a tux or stage makeup or a doublet and tights.

Please, can I go home? I whispered. I’ll call my parents so you don’t have to leave.

Don’t be daft, he said lightly, but his eyes were sad. There’s nothing left to stay here for anyway.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Columbine at the soda table laughing at something Gale had just said and was inclined to agree.

I didn’t go home, though Jude was more than willing to make the detour: I went to Rooba’s, because she had a spacious house and had invited our whole group to stay over after the after-prom party, to sleep till noon and enjoy a lazy brunch before going home. We were a remarkably well-behaved group of teens so it felt more like a church lock-in than anything else, except for the fact that I changed into my pajamas from an evening gown and slept in Lettie Wilhearn’s bedroom – sans Lettie, of course, Rooba having given her older kids the weekend off work and banished them to the lake cabin.

Jude didn’t say a word on the drive. When we got to his house he asked if I wanted anything to eat or drink, then obligingly disappeared after retrieving my overnight bag and directing me to the nearest bathroom.

I belatedly recalled that I was still wearing his tux jacket and intended to hang it on the back of Lettie’s desk chair when I turned in, but somehow I ended up taking it to bed with me as an additional makeshift cover, my nose burrowed in the comforting scent of his collar.

I dreamt about orchid corsages and hand-kisses and sneaking a pepper shaker into my purse and woke with sore, slightly puffy eyes, as though I’d cried myself to sleep. Lettie’s alarm clock read 11:18am in the blaring midday sun and in the papasan opposite me was Jude, curled up like a child with a pile of throw pillows under his tousled head. His eyes were open and contemplative and very carefully focused on the pillow adjacent to me.

Hey, I greeted him in a sleepy croak.

Hey, he replied softly, eyes flickering to mine. Do…do you hate me, mädchen?

I blinked rapidly, trying to think what he might have done to make me hate him or if he was just referring to the fact that we’d ended up sleeping in the same room, which didn’t bother me two pins. We’d fallen asleep on each other on the bus back from Knowledge Bowl tourneys and music competitions more times than I could count.

Why on earth would I hate you? I puzzled.

Because I…asked you out, he reminded me with a wince while still firmly maintaining eye contact, as though determined to stay strong for his sentencing.

At prom, I confirmed, a smile creeping irrepressibly across my mouth. It’s a bit like being in love with one’s own wife, Sir Percy. Demmed unfashionable.

The Scarlet Pimpernel was second on the Senior Lit slate and Jude had loved it just as much as I loved Jane Eyre.

Consequently, my remark won a grateful, crooked smile and I patted the bed beside me: an invitation Jude accepted without hesitation, stretching out his lanky frame with a groan and a breathless oof! as I flung my arms around his waist and pillowed my head on his chest.

I liked the smell and feel of Jude beneath my cheek. It felt like home – or going back there – and I think in that moment I finally realized those moments were numbered and swiftly counting down.

I’ve never been asked out before, you know, I reminded him. It was sweet; the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. And anyway, you potentially asked me out, under a very specific set of circumstances.

True, he agreed, and that seemed to set everything to rights. Want go find some breakfast? he wondered, tracing my braid with a fingertip.

No, I replied firmly and nuzzled deeper into his t-shirt, hiding my face from the sun.

Me neither, he agreed, and curled his arms around me, hugging me snugly to him.

Jude had clearly passed a rougher night than me because he drifted off almost immediately and was still sleeping hard at 12:30, when the savory smells of Rooba’s thick-cut bacon and handmade sausages roused my belly and brain respectively. (I learned later that Luka and Johanna had commandeered Jude’s bed, not for anything sketchy, but that they were curled together and sound asleep by the time he finally made it there, hence being relegated to Lettie’s papasan – a fine place for reading and cat-naps but miserable for a night’s worth of sleep.) On my way to the bathroom I practically collided with Jenny, Jude’s fourteen-year-old sister, noshing on a bacon sandwich and voracious for gossip.

So are you and Jude together now? she demanded with all the cheerful frankness of their mother. I saw you cuddling in Lettie’s bed.

I had always adored Jenny Tolliver more than I would ever let on. She and Jude were the only full siblings among Rooba’s five children and the similarities were endearingly obvious, despite the fact that Jenny inherited their father’s stunning black hair where Jude was a tow-headed, gray-eyed hybrid.

That was snuggling, I corrected her. Small but crucial difference.

You should think about leveling up, she advised gravely. He adores you, you know, and I hear teenage weddings are coming back en vogue.

Go away, imp, I teased, unbothered by her implication. She’d wanted me and Jude to get together since our first season of Knowledge Bowl and stubbornly refused to acknowledge that we didn’t like each other that way. I need to find some coffee and then we can argue this further.

I’ll be waiting, she said gleefully, stepping aside to let me into the bathroom.

But Jenny and I never reconvened for that argument, because that afternoon was the start of the slow crumble of the perfect high school year. Not because of anything to do with Jude or prom or Katniss’s engagement: because of something I overheard on my way to the kitchen that ended up being far more significant than I could’ve imagined.

Rooba and Marek – the Mellarks’ bachelor uncle – were preparing all the cooked food for the sleepy teenage brunch binge but Peeta’s father had stopped by with an assortment of pastries from the bakery and was on his way out again, talking to Rooba on the back porch, when I passed by en route to the kitchen.

So they’re young, she was saying. They’re hard workers with good heads on their shoulders, and they both went through the wringer at a young age. They know how to provide for a family and will do whatever it takes to put food on the table. They’ll do fine – better than fine, if we help them out a bit.

Janek Mellark’s response to this wasn’t clear – something about waiting – and Rooba replied in a strange, edged tone: Would you wait if Alys was willing?

I moved away before I could hear his reply, if indeed he made one, and enthusiastically engaged burly, cheerful Marek in a debate as to which of his offerings – stuffed French toast, chocolate chip pancakes, or Belgian waffles – would be the best to start off with, but there was a hot thudding in my ears and my eyes couldn’t seem to focus.

Alys, of course, was Katniss’s mother Alyssum – my mother’s best friend and confidante from childhood to the present – and I knew through my mother that Alys and Janek Mellark had been high school sweethearts on the very cusp of getting engaged when she unexpectedly broke up with him to get together with Jack Everdeen. Janek married Raisa Brognar – Rooba’s younger sister – on the rebound and everyone had gone on to produce their respective children and find varying degrees of contentment in their lives, but by all accounts, the Mellarks had rarely if ever been happy together, and of course, Katniss’s father died six years ago, leaving Alys bereft and in a stupor of grief, not unlike my own mother when her twin sister died at sixteen.

According to my mother, Alys Everdeen and Janek Mellark had carefully avoided each other since their breakup in high school, but when Peeta and Katniss began dating, they were thrown together to a certain extent and forced to interact socially. Further, in an unguarded moment that winter, Janek had admitted to Alys that he was still in love with her – feelings, Alys confessed to my mother afterward, that she was troubled to find she returned.

Of course, I discussed this with no one but my mother, though many a time I’d ached to confide in Jude, since we were similarly on the fringes of this relationship – not directly involved but connected through our mothers and their own relationships with the couple in question.

Something about Rooba’s remark that morning after prom implied that things were changing or had done, maybe irrevocably, and when I asked my mother about it that afternoon she gave a long sigh and kissed my forehead as though I were still a little girl. Do you really want to know, petal? she wondered. It might be easier to be ignorant till it all comes out.

Of course, I wouldn’t be me if I hadn’t wanted to know, and that’s how I learned what happened after the newly engaged Peeta and Katniss left for prom. About the argument that ensued when Alys furiously confronted Janek about his son’s proposal – and what happened after the argument.

I suppose it shouldn’t have come as that great a shock, but when you hear about a classmate’s parents getting divorced, you don’t think about his father sleeping with another classmate’s mother – or getting her pregnant. But it was some months before all of that came out, months when I could almost forget the secret burning in the back of my mind as the perfect year wound down to its inevitable, poignant end.

#the one that got away #fic bits #jude/madge #jude tolliver #modern au

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dreamiesformula · 6 years ago

Text

Triggered - Seo Changbin

When the one person you trusted to not break your heart does just that... how do you recover? Broken one too many times before can you forgive him?

To say you were insecure was an understatement, your whole life you were made to feel less than everyone else, worthless, ugly and a waste of time. That was until you met Seo Changbin rapper for famous idol group Stray Kids, exactly 2 years ago today. He made your life worth something, he made you feel loved, wanted, needed he made you feel beautiful. So you wanted to make him feel special and surprise him with lunch, before your very exciting anniversary night but shit backfires!

Y/N’s P.O.V

He is everything that’s good and I felt so bad about having to rush to my best friend Jack’s house early morning, but it was only cause he is helping me to organise Binnie’s surprise for tonight! Dinner at his favourite restaurant, 2 tickets to a Chase Atlantic concert being performed in a bar (since he said he wanted to see my favourite band live with me), then back to my place for a long night of appreciation and sentimental words, oh and loving.

Walking into the JYPE building even after all this time still made me nervous, I’d brought enough for the 10 of us to eat but probably would end up making sure Changbin ate enough for the both of us. I make my way to the dance studio where they undoubtedly are overworking to perfect their lastest comeback, but to my surprise I hear them talking.

“I just can’t handle Y/N today man, the stress and exhaustion may be getting to me but god I can’t deal with her insecurities. Every night she’s crying over something new, worrying I’ll leave her, skipping meals. Every single time I come home she’s panicked and I can’t deal with her insomnia one more sleepless night I’m gonna lose my shit.” I hear Changbin ramble on, standing at the door awe struck and frozen with fear. I hear footsteps...

“That’s not nice Changbin!” Jeongin defends me, bless him he’s always been so kind to me.

“Yeah maybe you’re being a little bit harsh, she’s had it rough and on today of all days you shouldn’t be bagging out the girl you’re dating.” Chan agrees knowing full well what today was while Changbin seemed lost.

“Today of all days? What do you mean?” Tears start rolling down my cheeks as the foot steps getting closer before you could process the door swings open revealing a very shocked looking Jeongin and scared looking Chan.

“Don’t.” I choke out handing Chan the food and with blurry vision and my head up high looking Changbin dead in the eyes. “I know where I stand, happy anniversary btw asshole. Enjoy it on your own!” Sarcasm lacing my voice as I spin on my heels ignoring the pleads of the boy who was and is my world.

Changbin’s P.O.V

I go to chase after her, I was dumb, I didn’t mean any of it. I said it myself I’m just tired and stressed, one things for sure, I need her.

“Changbin, Jyp is on his way and you know that, you can’t leave now.” Woojin scolds.

“Hyung, I cant just let her leave, not like this, not today, not anyday. I need her I was just being a dick, you all know that.” I say pointing to the members.

“I’m sorry but right now Woojin is right, she’s already gone, your damage has been dealt.” Minho backs Woojin up looking at the boy sorrow filling his eyes, Minho of all people knew the extent to which Changbin needed Y/N.

“Did you really forget what today was Bin?” Felix asks, his voice a whisper as he stood beside the boy.

“Yes.” He breaks “I fucking forgot.” He colaspes to the ground in his own sorrow he doesn’t hear his boss entering the studio.

“Changbin, what’s wrong?” The man dressed in casual attire sounds genuinely concerned.

“I-I -I’m just a bit cranky today sir, I’m sorry.” He stands up momentarily regaining his composure.

“Well you boys have tonight off, but I wanted 3 racha to go to a show tonight. The group is an Aussie group, I figured you’d like that Chan...” he chuckles to himself “the point is to widen your musical exposure and hopefully give you some ideas for beats, composition and you’ll have a chance to talk to them afterwards. In return they’ll come to your show later this month, their manager wanted them to have some free time and they wanted to check you boys out after hearing that you’ll be watching them.” They all nod Changbin regretting so afterwards.

“The show starts at 8pm, goes for about 2 hours and you’ll meet them afterwards. Changbin I know it’s your anniversary but is there anyways you could call Y/N, I’ll pay for your make up date, I know how inconvenient this must be and I’m so sorry.” He smiles genuinely patting the boy’s back and walking out.

“Fuck as if it couldn’t get any worse.” He grunts turning to Chan who’s still holding the bag.

“She brought this for us.” Chan says followed by “She’d want us to eat it regardless.” A bittersweet smile on my face as I realise exactly the magnitude to which I have just fucked up.

Y/N’S P.O.V

“Yo mitty, so I’m coming to your show tonight, was wondering if you and the boys wanted to get drinks after. Like old times back home!” I ask excitement filling my broken voice, my voice hoarse from an hour of sobbing until I decided I’d just go to my friends concert and let lose. Have a good time like we used to!

“You know I’m always down for that, but we gotta meet with some idols or something after who are coming, you’re more than welcome to join back stage. We can race fireball like old times?” The boy chuckles over the line.

“Alright Cave, you’re on!” I smile proudly knowing I’ll kick his ass just like old times!

“Alright cutie you’re on.” With that he hangs up the line, cutie was what he used to call me in highschool. Some junior tried to hit on me during our last year and he swooped into rescue me, I miss those times. No broken heart, no betrayal, just a bunch of idiot friends having a good laugh and writing some songs.

I get dressed while calling Casper to update him on the situation. I take my lacey black bra and pair it with some black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots and leather jacket to top off the bad ass bitch vibe for tonight. Put my piercings in, necklaces on, straighten my hair and do some light make up and boom ready to have an awesome time. Despite the ever growing pit of grief in my stomach, was I really that needy? Desperate? Clingy? That I managed to make Changbin the man who would always call me the love of his life, hate me.

Changbin’s P.O.V

3RACHA pulling up looking hot as fuck. Chan dressed in his mixtape 4 outfit (cause that’s a fat OOF 🤤), Han Jisung wearing his outfit from the boxer street video (p.s author loves her baby UWU he’s so handsome.) and Changbin wearing his outfit from SBS Inkigayo ep 997 (because Oml What an absolute king of I am not a goth but black is such my colour and I own this shit). Okay visual cue out!

“What the fuck is up Seoul? We’re Chase Atlantic thanks for coming out tonight.” The crowd screams “it’s super amazing to be here tonight and we hope you all have a dope time, our first song tonight is Triggered. I wanna hear you get loud.” A man with long dirty blonde / brown hair hypes the crowd up and they begin. The music itself wasn’t bad but most of the lyrics went in one ear out the other, lots about drugs but then again I only picked up half the songs contents but after all we were only there to listen to their use of sources, beats and their instruments so if it works, it works.

Next was a song called Swin, Cassie, Into It, 23, Lust, Friends, Uncomfortable, Drugs & Money, Right Here, What U Call That, Ozone, Devilish, The Walls, Okay and then they talked for a little. I scan through the crowd from our seats which were front section of second level as I was not really understanding what they were talking about until I see her, there she was, Y/N here, or at least I think it’s her I can only see her back but she’s got the jacket I gave her on. It had a SPEAR.B patch on the back, one she had designed for me when we were only known as 3RACHA. Surely it’s her the hair colour and jacket, surely that’s MY Y/N.

“Oi Chan?” I turn to the blonde haired Aussie to my left “is that Y/N?” I question pointing to where the girl is.

“Looks like it, that’s her jacket after all and this is her favourite band.” He looks slightly annoyed I hadn’t put two and two together, Aussie band, Chase Atlantic. Y/N always talked about how one day we’d go to their concert and we’d be the hottest couple because she had me. I told her I wanted to go see the things she loves. Jesus today keeps getting worse. Time ticks on and I can’t help but watch her, the girl I love, dancing with some other guy, laughing, singing, being happy. When I left her broken-hearted.

“This is our last few songs, these are You Too, Meddle About and Like A Rockstar! Enjoy Seoul you’ve been fucking awesome.”

I watch by as she gets crazy, let’s go and enjoys herself. Was she really unphased? No, I could tell, I know her better than anyone.

The boys wrap up the show and I watch as the lead singer leaves before we head back stage. My eyes searching for her, but she’s no where to be seem.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“MITTY” I scream as I hurl myself at my oldest friend who’s laying in the green room couch. “CUTIE!” He screams back tickling me “how the fuck have you been man?” I ask as we spend time catching up we hear a knock. “Yeah come in” Mitchael screams “bro my fucking ears, Jesus” I complain getting off of him and going towards Clinton as he’s where the drinks are. “Clint? Gimme something strong yeah?” I plead “Jesus rough day?” He chuckles “you have no idea man. No I fucking dear” I sigh turning around and regretting it instantly.

There he stood, Seo Changbin looking as good as ever. Without much thought I down the entire drink and head back to sit with Mitchel, Chan breaks the momentary awkward silence “hello it’s nice to meet you, we are 3RACHA.” Chan extends his hand to Mitchel but instead he bro hugs him, “how’d you enjoy the show man?” Clinton asks Changbin as they bro hug “uh... it was really good, I-I really like the uh compositions of your music-c.” I smile slightly to myself he’s doing so well my precious boy, Y/N SNAP. OUT. OF. IT. “That’s so nice, thanks bro.”

The night or the next hour and 30 minutes at least consisted of everyone sitting on the couches sharing advice, ideas, stories and me on my phone. “You know this little chick right here is pretty good with a beat, we used to have jam sessions and she always started our old songs.” Mitchel looks down at me as I occupy the space next to him, “she even sends us samples and lyrics still to this day, cutie over here got mad skills.” My eyes go wide knowing full well Changbin just heard and understood everything that was said, I hum from behind my phone screen too scared to look up in fear I’d meet his eyes. Those same eyes I can feel burning a hole into my forehead right now, “how about we watch some of your videos, I know we get to see you live soon but aye give us a sneak peak!” Clinton changes the topic, my life saver. Chan pulls out his phone and everyone huddled around where he was sitting I stand at the back close to Changbin just too rest the waters, knowing he was both sad and jealous I didn’t want to escalate things. He notices my position and while everyone is focused on the phone snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me closer into his side “baby, you know I love you. I was a dick I am so sorry. I need you to stay with me. Please love.” He whispers in my ear sending shivers down my spine as he peppers soft, sweet kisses along my neck, “we will talk about this later” I muster up all the courage I can to detach myself from his side and go back to sitting on the couch scrolling through my phone. “Y/N, you good?” Clinton asks knowing I’ve had a few drinks “yeah boys, all g” I smile.

“Talk about sick beats man, those are dope. So you make all your own shit. Composing, mixing, lyrics. The whole lot yeah?” Changbin nods “yeah the whole lot.” He smiles confidently, fuck he’s making this hard.

2 notes · View notes

perseuesjackson · 7 years ago

Text

seeing me

ao3 | ffn

summary It's not easy, not when you're in love with your best friend, not when your best friend is a superhero. But what's even harder than is trying to tell your best friend you knew she was a superhero, especially when she didn't want you to know.

word count 16120

a/n this is the second part to this fic. i wrote this a long time ago and never posted on tumblr, and meant to post right after i posted the first part, but five months later here we are.

hope u guys enjoy it :) have some fluff

He’s pictured finding Ladybug’s secret alter ego a million times.

Probably even more, if he was willing to admit that.

Adrien never expected Ladybug to be sitting behind him class—for years. They’ve been classmates for years and he’s never noticed.

He might have to give that to Marinette; he hadn’t noticed her without the mask. At least, initially.

But now—now, he knew.

He didn't know what to think about this friendship with Marinette.

That's a lie. He knew exactly what to think.

What he didn’t really know what to think about was this whole Marinette-is-Ladybug-but-she-doesn’t-know-that-quite-yet situation he had with her. On one hand...it wasn’t entirely his fault that he knew, when he knew that Marinette didn’t want him to know.

Oh, who was he kidding? Adrien was guilty—he felt so incredibly guilty.

The thing was, how could he not figure it out? Since Adrien became closer friends with Marinette (a feat that he is very proud of; getting closer to her is harder than one would think), he knew her better than he knew himself. The only person that could even compare with Marinette and the connection he had with her was Ladybug and—well, there’s why.

He knew exactly when his friendship with Marinette really started. A group lunch date almost one and a half years ago when Alya (later he found out, ditched) and Nino, who caught a cold, couldn’t make it. It left Marinette so incredibly awkward that Adrien took pity on her and offered to the cancel the meeting. He was a little bummed out about that; Adrien figured it was because he had really wanted to try the Chinese restaurant Marinette suggested they go to.

Marinette said no, and that encouraged him in so many more ways than one.

He had wanted to be her friend. Really, he did. It was hard for him, however, considering Marinette never seemed to be comfortable around him. He didn’t want to force himself on to her, no matter how interesting Marinette was. So when Marinette decided to stay with him, Adrien took the chance by its reins. It wasn’t easy maintaining and building the flickering friendship he had with Marinette, but Adrien worked hard, and before he knew it, she became his best friend.

(Though, that wasn’t exactly true. She was his best friend before he even knew who she was.)

He was glad Marinette was his best friend.

Adrien wasn’t even afraid to tell Nino that. Nino, forever his best—guy—friend, smiled happily whenever he reffered to Marinette as such, though Adrien thought he saw some kind of annoyance flickering in his eyes. Arien guessed it was exasperation now that Adrien had more friends than just Nino. (Though with the way Nino’s going with Alya, Adrien thought the boy had no right to complain. Really, the four of them were like a huge family. He liked to think so anyways.)

She was his best friend—he loved that. How could Adrien not? Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absolutely amazing.

He loved visiting her. In all sorts of ways, unbeknownst to Marinette. She always surprised him, and more times than not, those surprises always made him like him more.

One of his favorites is always when Marinette showed him her designs. But a particular memory that Adrien was extremely fond of involved a scarf.

His fingers drifted over the fabrics Marinette laid out for him. She was talking animatedly, a sight that always made smile. She picked up each piece, describing where she got it, why she bought it, and what she planned on doing with it.

“This one’s for Alya’s birthday. It was hard getting this color, not to mention expensive, but anything for my best friend. It’s even reversible. See?” Marinette flipped it over. “I can’t decide what to get her though.”

“I'm sure she'll like anything you make.” He knew he did.

Marinette smiled kindly at him. “Oh, I know that. But I still want to make her something that she'll like, something practical.”

He nodded with understanding. “Still,” Adrien said, fingers brushing over the fabrics she handed to him, “I wouldn't worry about it too much. Anything you make is perfect.”

He turned to see her. There—there it was. A beautiful blush adorned her cheeks. Cute, Adrien thought with rapid heartbeats in his chest. He liked seeing her like this, spending time with her like this.

(Though he didn't realize why until later.)

“Do you always stitch your signature?” he asked, fingers feeling the bumpy etch. It looked complicated, weaving the needle up and down to get every curve of Marinette’s lengthy name.

“Mm...no. Not always. It takes up a lot of effort. Also, sometimes I’m not brave enough to stitch my signature. I’m not even gradated, you know? It’s not like I’m a world famous designer anything.” She rolled her eyes, laughing. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“No,” Adrien disagreed, surprised. “No way. There’s nothing wrong with being confident. Everyone should know that you made this amazing product.”

Marinette flushed, sending him a small glance. There—one of those looks. Not quite, but a little. “Thanks, Adrien,” she said, almost whispering. “That means a lot to me.”

“Are these all your practiced signatures?” He pawed the different fabrics, all different sizes. His eyes widened with awe at a particularly intricate one, woven with multicolored thread, almost as if it were shining. Others were smaller. Some had her entire name, only a couple with the full “Marinette Dupain-Cheng”; most were simple “M” and less, though still plenty, “MDC”.

“Yeah. I keep most of them, because I like saving everything I do. Kind of like seeing how much progress I’m making, you know?”

Adrien’s glance fell on the bright blue one. He would catch that color anywhere. How many times has he hugged the fabric of the same color to his chest, cradling it as if it would provide him comfort in ways his father hadn’t been able to?

His fingers brushed over the etched signature. This fabric was longer, and Marinette practiced her signature several times. There was an unfinished “Marinet” at the top and several “M”’s of different shapes and sizes, curled and straight, near the bottom.

A cord struck. He glanced at Marinette, who was talking about some other fabric for her gift to Alya. For the first time in a while, his focus drifted away from her, and instead, towards the fabric under his hand.

Marinette wasn’t looking at him; he couldn’t read her. But Adrien was certain. He had long ago noticed the stitched “M” near the bottom of his scarf, always curious of where his father bought it if it wasn’t one of Agreste Fashion’s products.

It had to be her. Marinette had to have made the scarf for him.

The question was, why did Nathalie play it off like a gift from his father? Was it really? Was Marinette the mere designer in this circumstance, or did she actually intend it to be a personal gift for him?

He tried replaying his birthday. It was two years ago, so he didn’t remember everything clearly. The only memories that resurfaced with lucid clarity was his feeling of immense happiness when he opened the gift, and the horrible feeling when Adrien found out he was at fault for causing Nino to become akumatized.

He tried to remember. Did Marinette talk to him that day? If the gift was from her, she had to have talked to him. But he really couldn’t recall it. It was two years ago, after all. Moreover, Adrien hadn’t been close to her back then, hadn’t noticed her.

Once again, he cursed to himself. Not noticing Marinette...It was like a crime to him. Adrien’s eyes went back to the blue fabric, to all the others Marinette had laid out. They went to her room, to her. How could he not have noticed how amazing she was earlier?

Another thought struck him.

He was falling in love with her.

Adrien does like it but that could simply be bias.

Marinette’s claim that he hated fashion wasn’t wrong—he wasn’t fond of it. Modeling for hours on end, needing to skip classes in order to fit in photoshoot sessions, turning down friend’s requests to hangout—Adrien thought it was awfully fair that he didn’t love fashion. It’s been skewed since the start, and his job as a model is probably what ruined it for him.

He briefly wondered if he would like it if he wasn’t a model, if his father wasn’t Gabriel Agreste. But that’s only wishful thinking.

Either way, Adrien felt he needed to convince Marinette—who haughtily thought she won this round, that Adrien does, in fact, detest fashion—that he likes it. Adrien threw his words around, hoping it would persuade her. The only indication that he’s being compelling is the slight fall in her triumphant expression and faint flush dusting her face. He grinned mentally at that; flirting wasn’t easy as Adrien Agreste, but somehow, with Marinette, she made everything easy. Words flowed out of his mouth simply, something that he couldn’t really do with other people. Frankly, if his father didn’t restrict him so much with his words and actions when Adrien was growing up, he could be more of an extrovert than he was now, but Gabriel Agreste did, and so here Adrien was—hiding small parts of himself from large parts of the world.

Even so, with Marinette, he was able to let himself free. Sure, he was able to do so with Nino as well, but the way he acted with the designer was just completely different from the way with his best friend. Sometimes, when he was with Marinette, he was so at ease with her it’s like he’s known her his entire life. Like he knew her better than he thought he did. Like there was a part of them they both didn’t know of, secrets he thought he didn’t know—but did.

He would see this sometimes. It wasn’t often that Adrien caught it, but at moments, he would feel a catch. Deja vu, people called it, though that word didn’t entirely fit. Adrien tried to place it, but it was practically futile.

But not quite.

He was able to catch wind of when it came. Not all the time, but small occasion. Adrien would catch it when he and Marinette fist bumped after a particular victory (when he finally beat her at Ultimate Mecha Strike III or finished the killer semester project they had been put together a year ago the forced them to pull an allnighter). Adrien would catch it when they went a little crazy (when Marinette had almost lost her head laughing and jumping to her heart’s content in hat humongous jump-park in the carnival that Nino and Alya had dragged them to a couple months ago). And above all, he would catch it when she shot a flippant remark after he threw a pun (when she would smirk, her blue eyes glimmering like the heavens—and that was almost all the time).

The point was, Adrien was almost sure he knew Marinette better in aspects that he didn’t understand yet. He swore, it was just on the tip of his tongue, like the revelation was just one push from revealing itself.

Anyways, it’s not that Adrien hated fashion. He likes it, really.

Like he said, Marinette wasn’t wrong. Adrien had little heart for the fashion industry, but the girl who showered him with the ideas of her designs and piled tons of fabrics in his arms made it better. Made him want to try harder so that maybe one day, when they grew up, they could work together. (A foolish dream, but he was a child—he could dream.)

Marinette’s accusation towards his hatred of fashion wasn’t directed incorrectly, but Adrien still felt a need to rectify her. He spouted random reasons why, most of which were true, but not quite exactly the reason why he enjoyed watching Marinette work her designs through.

He wished she would understand his hidden meaning.

A roll of the eyes, a scoff. All towards his “reasons” why.

“I like fashion,” he finished. I like you, he meant.

“My best friend loves me.”

Chat Noir raised an eyebrow. Isn’t that what best friends were supposed to do? Love their best friends?

They were talking about home life—a conversation that put him on edge whenever Ladybug breathed the word “papa” with love and affection and a talk that unnerved Ladybug whenever Chat came to anything that was remotely revealing.

But for the most part, it had ran smoothly. Nothing too bad, and Ladybug hadn’t yelled at him or pulled away yet.

“Yeah, mine too,” he replied slowly, giving Ladybug a look. She snorted.

“I mean, she loves me. She’s a huge fan of Ladybug.”

“Ah.” Chat nodded. “And does she know?”

Her partner shot him a look. “What do you think, kitty?”

Raising his hands in surrender, he bent his head down, indicating his understanding. “Got it.” He set his arms down, looking back at his partner. “Do you think you’ll ever tell her?”

Ladybug was silent. It’s always like this, whenever Chat ask a huge question like that. But he knows Ladybug trusted him, that he didn’t have any ulterior motives for asking that. Chat Noir was genuinely curious.

He lapped in that silence, already well accustomed. Ladybug took her time to answer his questions, making sure everything was filtered and anything that needed to be hidden was.

“Maybe,” she finally answered. She didn’t continue and he didn’t break the silence. “Maybe,” she repeated, “maybe after years. Maybe after when this is all over.”

“Over?”

Ladybug gave him a look. “It has to end, at some point. Whether that’s in a couple years or months or decades is a different matter. But it won’t last.” She laughed. “Can you imagine a seventy year old Ladybug trying to topple over buildings?”

He chuckled with her. “I’m sure you’ll make a radiant Ladybug, even with an elder citizenship.”

She laughed harder, bordering on guffaws. “Thanks, Chat. I’m glad you think so.” They fall quiet again, the wind and faint noises below the Eiffel Tower being the only sound in their ears. “My best friend gets a lot of interviews from Ladybug.”

“Favoritism?”

“In a way. I don’t neglect her, because I know she would be devastated without getting a Lady interview for too long. But I try not to dote on her too much.” She gave him a smile, a small one, filled with secrets. “But that’s a little hard.”

“Why don’t you tell her? I’m sure your best friend would be ecstatic to know if her best friend was her idol, Ladybug.”

Her grin fell. Chat snapped his mouth shut. He crossed a boundary, he crossed a boundary, he crossed a boundary—

Ladybug didn’t explode. She didn’t leave. Nor did she stay silent. Instead, she fell down next to him, taking a spot next to his cozy, cold-metal seat. Her head leaned against his shoulder, a gesture he’s learned over the years she only did when she’s at almost complete vulnerability. His breathing slowed, his heart thumping.

“My best friend…” Ladybug started and Chat almost breathed an audible sigh of relief when he heard of the tenderness and safety in her voice. “My best talks about me—like actually. On the internet.”

Chat Noir raised an eyebrow. “You mean to say that your best friend runs a blog on her best friend?”

“I never said blog,” Ladybug said, aghast. Chat Noir chuckled. She probably meant to elude subtly to that point, but Chat—because he was so perceptive—figured it out. Judging by the mock annoyance she wears on her face, Chat didn’t need to worry about if he intruded too much.

“And?”

“And...she runs a blog. About Ladybug. She gushes about it all the time, talking about how Ladybug is courageous, brave—”

“You’re not going to tell me that’s a lie, now is it?”

Ladybug shot him a look. “Well, fine, I’ll admit I am brave. I have to be. But that’s only as Ladybug...I’m sure you’re different as yourself too, right, Chat?”

He didn’t say anything. Of course he was.

Ladybug mirrored his thoughts. “Of course you are. Having a mask...being able to start over with a new identity where no one knew you, where they hardly see your faults because you’re literally a savior... I’m different. It’s a little stressful when my best friend talks about both of us almost at the same time. ‘You’re so clumsy!’” Ladybug mimicked. “‘Oh, by the way, did you see my new video of Ladybug? She’s so graceful!’” She scoffed.

“...Is...Is that why you don’t want to tell me who you are?” he asked after what seemed like forever. Immediately, Chat Noir wanted to take it back. He felt like he was taking Ladybug’s worries and fears and turning them against her, using it to further his own desires. Of course Chat Noir wanted to know who Ladybug was, but that wasn’t the point here. “I-I-I m-mean—”

“I know.” Ladybug turned her eyes away, but still kept herself near him. “It is,” she whispered, just barely. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were having such a deep heart-to-heart or that Chat always listened to what Ladybug had to say, he might’ve missed it.

“Ladybug, I don’t know your secret identity so I may be totally baseless in saying this...but just because you aren’t graceful or a super when you’re yourself doesn’t mean you aren’t super or a grace.”

Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his. A thin coat of tears gleaned in her eyes and Chat Noir resisted the urge to lurch forward and hug her.

“Thanks, Chat,” she murmured, resting her forehead on his shoulder, “ Thank you.”

It’s a little hard to sleep. Not impossible, but difficult. Though Adrien did manage to fall asleep, and his dreams are surrounded by ladybugs and masks.

Drearily, Adrien walked into class the next morning, setting his bag down on his desk and wanting nothing more than just to slam his face on to the table to take a nap. But he had an image to uphold, and even if his father wasn’t here, Gabriel Agreste had eyes everywhere.

“Can you believe it?” Adrien heard Alya screech to her best friend behind him. He smiled faintly. The two girls always talked amiably, loudly, not caring if anyone else in the room heard, never letting anything disturb their friendship. He turned a little to glance at them. “The hit count increased like, tenfold overnight! That’s a new record. And all because Ladybug mentioned it!”

Marinette laughed. “Well she had to. Didn’t the reporter ask her…something about publicity?”

“Yeah, the quick interview after the latest attack.” Adrien noticed Alya’s eyebrows furrowing, eyes squinting. “Did you watch it? That’s surprising. I didn’t think you liked Ladybug.”

“How can I not?” Marinette said and Adrien agreed. How can anybody not like her? Maybe even Hawkmoth had a hidden admiration for her, or at least her astounding abilities; why else would he send akumas that have bitter resentment towards the fact that Ladybug and he keeps winning, never loses?

His logic is flawed, seriously flawed. But then again, he never thought clearly when it came to Ladybug.

“Just because I’m not a huge fan— ” There was a pause, and Adrien turned again to catch Marinette’s eyes roll. He’s hit with its familiarity. “—doesn’t mean I don’t watch the news. I don’t live under a rock.”

“Fair enough,” Alya grinned. “So? So?”

“So what?” Marinette asked, laughing. Alya shoved her.

“So, what do you think? My blog’s been getting so much more attention since then.” Alya gasped. “More people are going to see it. What if they’re not impressed? Do you think I should change the appearance? You have aesthetic sense; what do you think?”

Marinette chuckled again. “Oh please, Alya. Your blog is amazing! It’s perfect; everyone loves it. You write fantastic articles. Especially since you’re not professional!” Marinette poked her best friend, then crossed her arms with confidence. “You’re not bounded by large corporations so you can say anything about Ladybug! And although you want to unmask her”—the small furrowing of her eyebrows did not go unnoticed by Adrien—“you’re unbiased! Seriously, don’t even worry about it!”

“Thanks, Marinette,” Alya said, obviously relieved. “I needed that.”

“I’m your best friend,” Marinette said, jolting Adrien. “What do you even expect from me?”

“Reading my blog more,” Alya jabbed, coercing a sheepish grin from Marinette. “You say it’s great but you barely even read it!”

“I read some of it and what I read was great! I can’t help it, Alya; I don’t care much for unmasking her! I think you respect her privacy a little more. Shouldn’t that be her choice?”

The girls continue debating, with no real animosity between them, but Adrien was already lost. There was so many things that Marinette said that overlapped with his conversation with Ladybug last night. With his heart beating rapidly, Adrien twiddled his thumbs, trying to recall and match everything up with what he knew. Ladybug’s best friend, a blog, a fear of not living up to expectations—

His eyes flicked back. Marinette laughing hard with Alya now, her rich hair catching the sunlight streaming into the room from the windows perfectly.

Heavenly, Adrien remembered.

He wasn’t stalking her.

Sometimes he had a legitimate reason to be where he was. Akuma attacks and all—they were draining. Power-wise (and physically). He couldn’t be Chat forever. Adrien had to come out at some point and he need to find places to hide.

Okay, maybe Adrien was a little curious to see where Marinette was going. But he wasn’t stalking her. Adrien often just happened to be around the area where Marinette was, generally after an akuma attack, and he took the liberty of following her a couple blocks to say hi.

That didn’t constitute as stalking if they met up coincidentally right?

It’s not his fault that Marinette kept showing up at the same places he did.

Constantly. Adrien began to think it was weird, because more times than not, he would catch a glimpse of dark hair and think it was Ladybug, running away after a victorious battle, when it was really Marinette. He would catch Marinette coming out from dark alleyways, in between building walls on market streets, even behind a trash can. He would catch her eye sometimes before he even started to approach her— not stalking!—and see her eyes widen, blush building.

And what he really began to think was strange was that Marinette would stutter out something that was obviously an excuse. The way she would flush at the sight of him then respond to his question by letting her eyes dart to the side of wherever they were and picking the first thing she saw as her reason was a blatant sign. She might as well just be shouting “HEY, I’m lying about my actual situation, but I don’t want to tell you about it!”

And he got that, really. After all, wasn’t he stuck in the same situation?

But Adrien can’t help but to be curious.

He knew he should be suppressing his Marinette-Ladybug hunch. He respected his lady’s identity and now even understood why she was so adamant in keeping it so. But it’s been months since that conversation, and even longer since Adrien’s beginning to notice that Marinette showed up in all the places he’s at after an akuma fight. No matter how much Adrien tried to push away the connection between Marinette and Ladybug, somehow, it just kept coming back.

As a season passed and almost a month into the next one, Adrien realized that his Marinette-Ladybug was no longer a mere hunch, but a practical, reasonable theory.

It’s six months after his initial speculation that Marinette was Ladybug when Adrien fully realizes he wouldn’t mind that. At all.

Strangely enough, he hadn’t even really considered that. Adrien was so concerned with not figuring out who Ladybug was and pushing that conjecture to the far corners of his brain that he didn’t think about what he felt about Marinette being Ladybug.

And he felt happy. Extremely ecstatic.

Marinette was so incredibly amazing. He couldn’t even begin to list what he liked about her. They only started to get to know to each other a year ago, and only recently were they becoming closer and closer. Adrien enjoyed spending time at Marinette’s home; it was warm and cozy and so full with love that he had desperately craved. Sabine and Tom were the best . There was practically nothing bad about visiting the bakery everyday.

There was also the fact that Adrien often visited Marinette as Chat.

The first was an impulsive decision. Was it a year ago, maybe more? Either way, Adrien can still recall the memory sharply: Marinette had offered him a comforting pep talk on one of the rare days where Adrien had let his sadness show. It was one of those days where his father wasn’t able to attend any of the events he had promised to attend, one of those days where he rubbed Ladybug the wrong way, one of those days where his best friend didn’t show up to school to cheer him up.

Instead, Marinette did. And her words were different from Nino’s. Nino would tell him all the things that were bad with his father and how unfair Adrien’s life was as a neglected child. Adrien appreciated that, really he did, but sometimes he felt as though Nino didn’t really understand.

Marinette—who wasn’t his close friend—did.

She told him how it was okay to be sad, how it was okay to hate his father, how it was okay to still want to impress him despite despising his every demand. She told him that Adrien wasn’t making wrong decisions, even though he felt like it. She told him how she would always listen, if he ever needed an ear.

Her words shocked him to his core. Adrien hadn’t expected her to say such things, hadn’t expected such truthful and a little negative words to actually make him feel better. He was intrigued and just because no one was home that night, took his own expanded to a homey bakery.

He was knocking on her trapdoor before Adrien could even second guess himself.

That opened the gate to all the visits he would make as Chat Noir. Talking to her as both of his alter egos sometimes confused him, needing him to make sure Adrien didn’t let anything slip, but he loved it. He loved every bit of it.

Slowly, but surely, Adrien knew he was getting closer to Marinette. Everytime he thought of this, he needed to resist the urge to throw both fists into the air and scream “ YES!”.

Adrien also loved helping her with her projects. Adrien wasn’t a fashion designer, but he still had taste. Growing up in the world of fashion had forced him to look at things with an aesthetic eye.

And, Adrien still remembered the scarf. He confirmed it was from Marinette when he wore it during a rare dinner with his father and the man hadn’t made a single comment regarding it. Plus, when Adrien wore it to school, Marinette would always try to avoid his eyes, flushing, all more so than usual. It had to be from her. And although the thought that his father hadn’t gotten him anything for his 15th birthday or that Nathalie had lied to him, the realization that Marinette—who barely even knew him back then— made him a gift with her bare hands warmed his heart to no end.

He knew he liked her. He knew he loved Ladybug What he hadn’t realized until he was lying on his bed with his arm covering his eyes, a whole sixth month period after a deep heart-to-heart with Ladybug, was that he was in love with Marinette and Ladybug. As one entity. In his head, there was no “Marinette” or “Ladybug” anymore.

He had started to use the two names interchangeably.

Adrien was starting to understand why Ladybug was so adamant in keeping their identity a secret, their lives separate. Even though Marinette had explained it to him that one time, on the Eiffel Tower, she also implied there were more reasons than one.

Admittedly, Chat Noir had been too eager and persistent in wanting to know who Ladybug was, to reveal more about the girl he admired, to stop and really consider why she wanted to stay elusive.

Now that he knew Marinette was Ladybug, not to mention breaking her trust on so many levels, Adrien was terrified.

The first one being losing his friendship with her because he has sought out Ladybug’s identity.

There's more. He's scared that she won't like the idea of Chat Noir and Adrien Agreste being the same person. He knew the images were different. Knowing the Marinette admired Adrien Agreste enough to have clippings and magazines of his shoots put enough pressure on him. His father always wanted him to be a perfect, obedient role model child, and Chat Noir was anything but. Ladybug seems exasperated enough with Chat Noir and his (he’ll admit it) silly puns, but if she knew he was actually Adrien Agreste, supposedly cool, collected model? Adrien didn't know if he liked to find out.

The positive, sometimes more rational, side of him protested that Marinette was one of his closest friends, if not his best. She wouldn't cut him out of his life or hate him for that matter. She was nice, caring—understanding. Marinette just wasn't like that.

Still, fear crawled in his heart everytime he thought about it. The longer he delayed it, the bigger that terror grew. Before Adrien realized it, days turned into weeks and then into months and it had been almost a year since he discovered the secret.

Marinette would kill him. She would definitely kill him.

Sometimes, Adrien thought Marinette would forgive him. She was just that kind, after all. He recalled the situation with Nathaniel, and while it was way milder, it still granted him hope.

“It's okay,” he heard her say one time. This was years earlier, maybe weeks after the first time Chat Noir had ever met Marinette.

The tone contained so much concern that Adrien paused in his walking. Curious, he glanced at the direction of the sound: the classroom. Marinette must still be in there.

“N-n-no, Marinette. I'm seriously sorry!” Adrien recognized the voice as Nathaniel. Maybe he shouldn't be eavesdropping on their conversation.

But he didn't leave.

Marinette laughed, a nice sound echoing through the the closed classroom door. “Seriously, Nathaniel, I don't mind.”

“I still should've asked for permission first,” the boy mumbled. “I know some people don't like it when others draw them—”

“Nathaniel!” Marinette said, and Adrien can catch the mirth in her voice. “I don't mind! Really!”

“I also made you damsel in distress,” Nathaniel continues on, almost rambling. “That was so rude of me. I know you're brave, Marinete, a-and confident…” Adrien found himself nodding along with his classmates’s words, despite the fact neither of them can see him, considering they don't even know he's overhearing the conversation.

“Nathaniel, if you think I'm going to criticize you for wanting to seem heroic, then I'm not brave at all. I know I'd like to be a hero every once in while.”

She does? Adrien thought. He didn't think that's common for most girls. Then again, the only girl he really knew was Chloe, who always wanted to play royalty, prancing around like a queen.

Maybe she really did enjoy working with Chat Noir then. Adrien had thought Marinette exaggerated her excitement, though he had initially been excited to see that someone was so ecstatic to work with him.

“So don't worry about it, okay? It's totally fine! Though I can't speak for anyone else. You're right; some others might not appreciate it. But I do! Your drawings are amazing, Nathaniel! I only wish I can draw as half as you do.”

“N-no,” Nathaniel murmured, “you're plenty good.”

Marinette giggled. “You're too kind. I disagree, but thanks for the compliment anyways!” There's a brief pause. “Oh! I have to go manage the bakery for my parents today—and I'm late!”

Adrien heard Nathaniel's slight laughter. “Then you should go. Thanks for talking to me Marinette.”

“It's no problem. And really, I'm flattered! And you're very kind to have talked to me about this.”

They stopped talking and Adrien heard feet shuffling, papers rustling. Realizing that they're leaving, Adrien walked in the opposite direction, trying to make it seem like he was simply walking past.

When the doors slid open, Adrien's feet just walked past the classroom.

“A-A-Adrien!” Marinette squeaked. Nathaniel stood behind her, hands holding a sketchbook. Her face was flushed pink and he saw Nathaniel’s ears tinted red.

Somehow, the sight didn’t bode well in his chest.

(He doesn't figure out what that meant until later, however.)

Other times, Adrien was sure Marinette would be infuriated with him.

Something he was sure Marinette would be irked about if she knew is something he tried doing at every occasion.

He liked to be vague. It was like an inside joke he had with himself.

Maybe it would be funny to Marinette years later, after they were together (he hoped, so desperately), when he explained the situation to her. Maybe she would guffaw with him, fondly reminisce of how foolish they were.

But she didn’t know—not now.

“Good night” he would say, trying to keep his tone flat and removing any unnecessary mirth that might give him away. “See you tomorrow,” Chat would finish, even though he’s fairly certain Chat Noir won’t be visiting her tomorrow.

Adrien would be.

Marinette would nod, oblivious, and sometimes he just wants to tell her, the truth on the tip of his lips.

But of course, Adrien wouldn't say anything, at least until he cleared things up with her formally, but he still wasn't ready for that.

“Do you think girls would accept flowers and chocolate as a gracious apology?”

Nino almost spat out his drink. Fortunately, he didn’t. Unfortunately, he started to choke.

Adrien, being the great friend he is, thumped his best friend a couple times on the back, who nodded in thanks. Adrien was glad not a single drop of the soda spilled in the classroom; the professor would kill them. (Nino was secretly drinking while before the teacher arrived.) He wiped his mouth and looked back.

“What, you break a girl’s heart or something?” “Wouldn’t be the first time” he heard Nino mutter below his breath. Adrien narrowed his eyes.

“No,” he answered, indignant. “I'm just...preparing.”

“Preparing?” Nino looked suspicious. “You’re planning on breaking a girl’s heart?”

“No!” Shaking his head furiously, he denied, “No! Oh god, no. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah, it seems a bit far-fetched, even for you, Agreste.” Adrien rolled his eyes at the name. Nino only ever called him that when he was joking about Adrien’s reputation.

“Okay, any ideas?”

“I think flowers and chocolate sound good. Anything romantic right?”

“I don’t need it to be romantic, Nino.” Adrien was about to remind his friend that he was apologizing when a couple of his classmates walked by their desk.

Alix snickered. “Loverboy finally making his move?”

“‘Loverboy’?” Adrien repeated.

"To Marinette, of course."

"I never said it was Marinette!" he shouted, jumping up, red faced.

"Well, it wasn't hard to guess. That's not the question here," Nino said. "The question is what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Adrien defended immediately, before deflating. Well, he did, actually.

"Yet," Alix added helpfully. "You want to ask her out or something?"

Seeing Alix's question, it's evident that she didn't hear his entire conversation with Nino, and only caught on with "Marinette" and "loverboy". Oh, she thought he liked her.

Which isn't wrong.

"I—" he stammered. Adrien's cheeks were growing hot. "I—"

He didn't have anything to say in defense. They weren't wrong. And neither was Adrien ready to admit to them he might've betrayed her. (Not that Marinette knew yet.)

Alix supplied a satisfied smirk before flicking her eyes to Kim, who looked rather crestfallen. Her fingers snapped, a harsh sound resounding through the classroom, one that made Adrien flinch, just a bit. Alix then smoothed out her fingers. With a heavy sigh, Kim handed over a couple of euros.

Adrien watched the exchange with disbelief. His eyes switched between his two classmates, continuing to go back and forth even as Alix clicked her tongue with happiness and spun away.

“You’re kidding me.”

Nino sent him a sympathetic look, but he’s also smiling. His best friend—“best” friend shrugged. “It’s been going on for a while, to tell you the truth. They also banned me and Alya from betting since no one trusted us to not have an unfair advantage.”

“They banned you—meaning you actually had something to say?”

Nino froze, then turned slowly, trying for a sheepish grin. Adrien crossed his arms. “Well...Oh, c’mon. Do you think you’re so suave with those looks you send to her every minute of every day that no one in our class would bet on you?”

Adrien didn’t respond. He was absolutely speechless.

“Bro, come on. I swear, everyone knew. I bet you that even your gardener knew.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, huh?” Adrien retorted.

Nino looked surprised for a second, then laughed awkwardly. “Thanks, but I’ve got no spare change to spend on bets.”

“Now there’s a bummer,” the boy responded, dramatically shaking his head.

“And a shocker,” a new voice came. Adrien turned to see Alya enter through the doorway. She set her bag down at her seat with a flourishing grin, one that spoke of triumph. “Agreste doesn’t have money? Better tell Marinette that she’ll be needing to start feeding her boyfriend her bakery treats to prevent starvation.”

“My father doesn’t allow me much spending money,” Adrien said stupidly, brain still not functioning. “I’m not her boyfriend.” That was a struggle to say. Even just by looking at Alya, he can see that the entire class was watching the exchange, definitely highly amused.

“Yet,” Alya added with a wink. The crowd that started to surround them chanted ooh before breaking into peals of laughter. Adrien was practically combusting on the spot.

Trying to regain some of his composure, Adrien crossed his arms, attempting to go for a nonchalant look. It probably didn’t work. “Okay, fine— I like Marinette. But we’re not dating, and there’s no saying that she even likes me.” He was still hesitant about that. Despite all signs that he had hoped were signs, Adrien still had a feeling of unease residing in his stomach. An anxious thought that he was wrong.

However, as the words left his mouth, Alya just stared at him. Nino just stared at him. In fact, as Adrien looked around, everyone just stared at him.

“What?” he asked defensively.

“Dude,” Nino said.

“Dude,” Alya continued. The word, coming from her, gave him a shock.

“Dude,” various classmates chorused along, only making Adrien more and more self-conscious. Was he not getting something?

Nino shook his head, evidently disappointed. His hand was at his forehead, like he was trying to wipe a massive headache away. “ Dude. ”

“What,” Adrien repeated, trying to echo the same tone Nino gave him, but was more than likely failing. Nerves a wreck, he was sure his voice was two seconds from cracking.

“Dude!” Nino shouted, jumping towards him and throttling his best friend at the shoulders. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What? Why would I joke about that?” He swatted Nino’s hand away. Glancing around, he noticed that the people were giving him the same look of disbelief Nino wore. “W-what, you’re telling me Marinette likes me?”

“Uh,” Alix said, hands at her hips, “duh?” She threw one hand up as if trying to wave the obvious around. And, as if they were in a movie, Adrien realized that the entire class was nodding in unison.

“Did literally everyone know before me?”

The people around him snickered. “Dude,” Nino said helpfully, “she wasn’t subtle.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. Rolling his eyes, Nino explained, “C’mon. The looks. The stares. You’re not blind, are you? ”

Alix snorted at the boy. “Out of all the thing she does, that’s what you point out?” Redirecting her attention to Adrien, she said, “The girl would shriek when you touched her. And her smile? Jeez, Adrien, I don’t know if I’ve seen anyone else wear such a painfully revealing and awkward expression.” The rest of the class nodded.

“Okay, okay,” Adrien said, trying to defend the remainder of his pride, ducking his face from the onlookers, “I get it.”

Alya grinned. “Do you?”

He looked at her.

“You realize this is the part where you’re supposed to court her, right?”

His friends live in the 19th century, if not even further past.

Courting? Were they serious?

Apparently Alya was.

“I'm not kidding, Agreste. If you don't do this properly and unnecessarily hurt Marinette, I will kill you, no matter how much she likes you.”

Nino had agreed, sending him a knowing look about the so called "plans" for breaking a girl's heart.

He wasn't sure how much of the threat was exaggerated (or wasn't exaggerated).

Truthfully, Adrien was worried he’ll hurt Marinette. There's the standard protocol of screwing up the confession or saying something he doesn't actually mean, but Adrien was mainly worried that he’s making a big mess with their secret identities.

Because he still hadn't told her. Still hadn't admitted that he knew she was Ladybug for almost a year.

To be fair, he only really knew for sure for about half a year. The first six months had him roaming around, constantly ranging anywhere from 30% to 99.99% sure that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was Ladybug, before she had confirmed it firmly by talking about her best friend.

(Ladybug had always been hesitant in revealing anything personal, which was reasonable. It lead him here, after all.)

Adrien fell back on to his bed, heart a wreck. He honestly didn’t know what to do. He broke Ladybug’s trust and figured out who she was and here he stood (laid), thinking about ways to tell her he loved her—to her civilian self! From what he could gather from Ladybug’s brushes whenever he flirted, she didn’t anything closer to Chat Noir than they had right now.

Adrien groaned, rolling to his side. He was breaking Ladybug’s trust, through and through. He figured out who she was, didn’t tell her, and what’s worse, knows about her crush. In any circumstances, Adrien didn’t think Marinette would appreciate the fact that he talked about their relationship to their entire class. Alya had told him as much when she briefly mentioned that she was disappointed that the class (and herself) got to him before Marinette could.

Well, what was done was done. He shouldn’t contemplate it any longer.

But he did. Oh god, he did. Adrien would never be able to shake off the fact of how badly he broke Ladybug’s trust.

He wondered if she would forgive him if he pleaded his case of fear.

Adrien almost laughed. How ironic. Adrien, not telling her he knew his secret, out of fear, but also feared the aftermath of breaking her trust for keeping this secret of knowing her secret.

Oh, what a mess.

He caught her staring. Repeatedly.

Now that Adrien knew for sure Marinette liked him, the next several weeks that followed was coupled with his now intensified observations of Marinette. He noticed everything.

Sometimes Adrien would be able to suppress the grin that was sure to appear on his face if he was alone or something, but obviously Marinette was in proximity of him. Instead, he would give the small smiles he gave everyone and ask, “what’s wrong?” when he knew exactly what was going on.

Sometimes Marinette would blush and shout “n-nothing” in reply. Other times she would fix her longing stare into a smirk and throw back a witty reply.

He wasn’t sure he liked better.

Adrien didn’t want to say he was disheartened when he Marinette took off those posters.

Because that’s just egoistic.

Sure, he had been elated when he saw that Marinette found him attractive enough to put his modeling spreads up in her room. Adrien knew that he was good looking to some extent—he had to be, for his modeling career. But the fact that Marinette thought that is a whole new story.

So when Adrien entered Marinette’s room for the first time as Adrien Agreste, he had expected to see her decorated walls he had barely glimpsed at as Chat. He was excited to, even.

But he didn’t. He was disappointed with the empty walls glaring back at him.

Marinette asked him what’s wrong and he couldn’t have just told her he wanted to see his face in her room. That was wrong on so many levels.

Besides, that was so long ago. They were barely even good friends, let alone close enough to warrant such a strange question.

So Adrien didn’t bring it up.

But now that he knew Marinette liked him and now that he was hyper aware of her, he kept self doubting himself. Were they sure he liked him? Yeah sure...that many people couldn’t be wrong, but why would Marinette take off those posters other wise? She had to detest looking at his face to do such a thing right?

He tried to push the thought away, but it kept crawling back like a stubborn infection.

Maybe everyone was wrong. Maybe she didn’t like him anymore.

“Adrien?” Marinette shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled. Surprising her never got old. “Just wanted to visit a friend.”

“It’s—” She whipped out her phone, glancing at the clock. “—8 o’clock.”

“And time stops friendship?”

Plagg would tease him for that cheesy line, but like Plagg had any right to complain about cheese.

Marinette flushed—a pretty pink, Adrien noted, with his own heart flipping and flopping—and glanced down, suppressing a grin and gestured wildly inside. “You can come in.”

“Thanks,” he said breezily, stepping over the threshold, his hands still laced behind his back. Marinette’s home was cozy as it always had been, but the homeliness of it just always puts him at awe—and envy.

Walking up to her staircase, she warned, “Wait a sec okay? My room’s super messy.”

He laughed. “I doubt it. You’re the most organized person I know.”

Marinette’s cheeks blossom again, and she looks at him and back at the door, mumbling a quiet and strangled “t-thanks” before disappearing behind it.

“When did you turn in your essay?” he asked, as a means of making conversation. They had a paper due tonight at ten—a requirement their teacher thought would help them sleep earlier. Adrien snorted at that when the professor had explained as such. Nino would procrastinate until the last second, putting off other homework until ten. Then the boy would spend another three hours finishing it, sleeping at an early bedtime of one A.M.

Adrien expected a simple “oh, like, days ago” or a “maybe an hour ago?” as a reply from Marinette but when there’s no immediate reply, he glanced up at the girl sitting a couple meters away from him. Marinette was absolutely frozen, her arms midway between its previous stop and it’s next one, her entire body indicating that she stopped suddenly.

Seconds ticked by, seconds of such length that Adrien wondered what he should say.

“ I forgot about the essay!” Marinette shout-whispered. Her hands were slapped on her cheeks, her bright blue eyes dawned with horrible realization.

Adrien instantly shot up from his seat on the chaise and ran to her computer, turning it on and jerking the mouse, willing it to go faster. Marinette followed him, smoothly sitting and spinning around in her swivel chair and sliding over toward him. When the home screen asking for a password fired up, he automatically flipped around, giving Marinette privacy to type it.

“How much have you written?” he questioned, waiting. He heard the rapid typing, followed by a quick succession of tapping, which he can only assume is her backspacing her misspelled password. Calm, Marinette, he thought.

“Actually, a lot of it, so this isn’t as bad.” Although the waver in her voice indicated otherwise. “Just half of the last body paragraph and the conclusion and editing.” She groaned, her voice shrill.

“Okay, how about you send the file to me and I’ll edit what you have so far?”

“You’ll do that?” Marinette took a quick break from furiously finding the file and opening, looking over at him with stars in her eyes.

He struggled to keep a straight face. Clearing his throat, Adrien answered, “Y-yeah. Of course.”

“ Thank you, Adrien!” More clicks, followed by a lightning swipe of her mouse. “Okay, sent! Just read the intro and the first two body paragraphs, okay?”

“Will do,” he said, grabbing Marinette’s tablet. He quickly found the email application, logged Marinette out and himself in.

He downloaded the file. When Adrien opened it, he smiled at her introduction. For him, it was usually the last thing he wrote, because it was hard getting his words out when he wasn’t sure what the rest of his body paragraphs really said, but Marinette always wrote her first. And she nailed it. The essay started off with a bang and he was sure if it was like this all the way through, Marinette would have nothing to worry about.

Adrien sat back down on the chaise, leaning his back against it, scrolling. While he read, he thought that Marinette never mentioned difficulties in literature, so even failing this essay—even if major—wouldn’t be too big of an impact. If she didn’t do as well as she usually did, she wouldn’t fail the class or anything. Besides, Marinette’s essay, the bits he read so far, was already superb, so Adrien didn’t expect Marinette to receive a terrible, surprising grade.

Voicing his opinions, Marinette nodded, though it was obvious she was still nervous. She bit her lip as her fingers flew off her keyboard and before he knew it, Marinette was finished with the conclusion.

Adrien read it, decided it was great, and gave her essay another one over. After that was finished, Marinette said it was okay if he put the tablet away. If Adrien thought it was fine, then he didn’t need to proofread it again. However, Marinette did so, looking at it over and over again.

Then, right before Marinette was about to turn it in, Adrien asked, “You didn’t forget the bibliography, right?”

Marinette went ashen. Adrien groaned.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay!” she yelled, more to herself than him. Her hands were at the mouse and keys again, opening new tabs and documents. “I pasted links to all the articles I used in my notes document, so I’ll just cite those. And I have twenty minutes. Easy!”

Even with all that time left, Adrien still offered to help, but Marinette refused. “I got this. It’s my paper anyways. And you’ve helped enough. It’s been like—” Marinette glanced at the clock. 9:38. When she turned back to him, her face wore puzzlement. “Adrien, it’s almost ten.”

He couldn’t help but say, “Your deadline.” It didn’t deter Marinette like he hoped it would. She continued to stare at him, wasting precious seconds from her essay writing.

“Shouldn’t you be getting home?”

Adrien should. Nathalie would call soon. That is, if she knew he was Marinette’s house working on her essay. But he had told the assistant that he’d be off at Nino’s for a dinner with his parents, and to expect him home late. He was older now, and with that, he had more liberties (surprisingly). Besides, his father was out of town, so he wouldn’t be personally checking up on Adrien.

If this were a couple years ago, however, Nathalie would’ve kept minute-by-minute updates for Gabriel Agreste. She may even inquire Nino if the so-called dinner was actually happening (who would still totally back him up). But it wasn’t.

“Eh,” Adrien said, causing Marinette to raise her eyebrows. “Father’s not home,” he finished, as if it explained everything.

It did. For Marinette at least. She didn’t know they had that connection that required no words when they were Ladybug and Chat Noir, but Adrien liked to think that after all these years of being friends with Marinette, they had some sort of understanding that was incomparable. Marinette nodded understandingly, spinning back around to face her computer.

Well, almost. Adrien doubted Marinette knew the reason he didn’t want to go home was because he wanted to spend more time with the girl furiously trying to finish a literature assignment.

But the tips of her ears were dipped with red and Adrien found himself smiling. Maybe she had a hunch, then.

“Can I see you newest design?”

Marinette, busy with her hands, with ten minutes left and trying to finish the bibliography for the essay on time, didn’t even glance at him. “Sure,” she said, her fingers firing off at her keys. Adrien glanced once at her fast moving fingers, picturing a machine gun, and wondered if she would need to get her keyboard replaced afterwards.

He walked around the room, touching the fabric that hung loosely against her mannequin. That one was almost finished; a flowy dress Adrien had seen Marinette work on for the past couple of months. Considering that it’s almost complete…

He pulled out the second drawer, finding fabrics marked with pins. Aha! Adrien took it out carefully with a flourishing grin. A fluttery blue overlaid with sheer pink. Great choice. It looked like a skirt, and knowing Marinette, she would create other pieces to go with it, in order to complete the set. She just started, so she might not have much, but still. Adrien expected a sketch here and there.

He rummaged in the drawer, hoping to find something more, but only got layers of unused or leftover fabrics. No in progress pieces or even sketched figures. Frowning, Adrien pulled out the first drawer, hoping Marinette had misplaced her sketchbooks in the first instead of putting them in the second.

Instead, he got his face.

His breathing stopped.

Adrien’s eyes snapped up to Marinette’s walls—her bare walls—and almost gave himself a whiplash in the process. He remembered he had a brief glance of her (amazingly) decorated walls when he visited once as Chat Noir. And the next time? Adrien Agreste met eye-to-eye to natural, empty pink walls.

She kept them.

Adrien stuck his hand under around halfway of the stack, lifting it up. A magazine from three years ago. Fall edition. Adrien remembered being particularly fond with the results; they came out fabulously and his father even complimented him for doing a great job.

There was a small sticky note on the spread, and curious, Adrien slipped out the magazine and read it. Marinette’s cute handwriting pointed to his face and said, “Great shoot! Even his father said it was good, according to Adrien.”

Three years ago. They weren’t close then, but were acquainted well enough to tell each other their ups and downs. He didn’t exactly recall his conversation, but apparently Marinette cared about it enough to write it down.

If Nino were here, he may make a light joke about Marinette being just a little stalkerish, but rather than feeling creeped out with the large stack of glossy papers with his face on it, Adrien felt his heart skip a beat. Skip multiple beats.

She still liked him.

Just thinking about it made him want to roll around in his bed.

To which, Plagg would groan and persistently whine until Adrien fed him cheese.

Marinette liked him.

A lot.

Sometimes Adrien still couldn’t believe it. Ladybug, who always pushed him away when he so much tried to hold her hand, liked him.

His heart fluttered at the thought.

Adrien rolled to the side of his bed, covering his face with his pillow. He was burning up.

He liked her a lot too.

He can’t stop staring.

He would always make sure to turn away when she gave any side of turning her head, however.

“Bro, you gotta tell her.”

Adrien sent Nino a sidelong look. “I know,” he replied. Alya was already getting on his case but he just wanted to get the perfect moment. He took another look at Marinette, who stood in the gymnasium several feet away. She caught his look and Adrien felt his ears warm. Marinette smiled and waved. He waved back.

“Dude.”

Adrien redirected his attention to Nino. Seeing his face, Adrien smiled, a little defeated.

“I know.”

“She still doesn’t know that I know,” Adrien had pointed out to Plagg when he, too, complained about his ineptitude. “I’m not ready.”

He still hadn’t told her that he knew she was Ladybug. She probably had no clue.

He wondered how badly she would murder him when she found out.

Adrien pictured Marinette throwing her yo-yo at him, tying him up and angrily yelling at him. He saw her giving him the silent treatment for a good month. He imagined her furious expression, animatedly ranting to herself, eyebrows furrowing and pinched, before looking at him.

He can’t help but to smile.

It’ll be worth it, he decided. And any longer would just multiply the damage she might inflict.

Though he knew that wasn’t really true.

Still, sometimes Adrien would get waves of panic, and instead of coming with ideas of the reveal, he would block it away from his mind. She’ll hate me. I’ve lied to her for too long.

Maybe just not telling her would be the best bet...

He should tell her.

Adrien should definitely tell her. It’s been over a year since he had a hunch about Ladybug’s secret identity. He’s completely sure by now, obviously.

But she wanted to keep it as a secret. It was plain as day how much she wanted to keep her superhero life separate.

She would kill him. She would really kill him. She might even hate him—forever.

“You know she’s my best friend, right?”

Alya stood in front of him, arms crossed. The brunette wore a disapproving glare—one eyebrow raised and a small scowl.

Adrien smiled sheepishly. “She’s mine, too,” he tried. Alya fixed him with a stare. The boy sighed. “Okay, well, I’m not going to abuse her or anything like that.” He’s afraid he already did.

Alya rolled her eyes. “Of course not. If I thought you were, your head would be twisted behind your back.”

“ Twisted behind my — what kind of movies do you even watch?”

“Ones where the best friend doesn’t betray the main character.”

“Am I the main love interest?” Alya shot him a deadpan look. Adrien held up his hands in surrender. “You’re not betraying her—”

“—I’m only giving you dirt on her?”

“It’s not dirt —”

“It’s blackmail.”

Adrien breathed in, then out.

“I just want some proof. Y’know? To give me confidence.”

The girl smirked. “A model needing confidence to know if a girl likes him?”

“You know that looks aren’t everything. That Marinette doesn’t only care about looks.”

“You’re calling yourself good looking now?” When Adrien didn’t return the joke, Alya sighed. “I know.” She cocked her head. “I never thought you would need confidence. It was never a worry I had.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You had others?”

The blogger scoffed. “You kidding me? Believe me, I have had years to run through all sorts of scenarios through my head. All sorts of disastrous outcomes.”

I bet us being superheroes wasn’t a factor, Adrien thought, still worried Marinette would hate h forever after he told her. “Do you have anything?”

“Any possible outcomes?” Alya raised her eyebrow. “You'll confess, she'll confess, you'll make out—”

Adrien coughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Alya sent him a deadpan look. “Are you kidding me? You better kiss the hell out of her, considering the torment you’re putting her through.”

“The torment I’m putting her through ?” If only Marinette knew. She was driving him mad, what with her smiles and sparkling blue eyes and that face she makes when she’s happy...Adrien can hardly think straight with Marinette around, though he guessed that was already established.

Alya kept her arms crossed, unrelenting.

“Please? You guys all say she likes me—”

“She does . How is that even a question?”

“But I could use a little proof. You know, anything for a push.” Truth was, Adrien knew Marinette liked him. And he knew she trusted him and would never kick him out or throw him away. Of course not; this was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But despite all that, Adrien still had that humongous fear that Marinette will never forgive him. So what Adrien was really doing with Alya was to get her to tell him something that told Adrien she would; a sign if you will.

“Proof.” The girl scoffed, blowing a little of her hair out of her face. “There is so much proof that she likes you that I don’t even know where to begin.”

Adrien stared at her patiently.

“Okay,” Alya said, looking extremely exasperated with herself. She held up a finger. “You can never tell her I told you this but you guys seriously need a push to solve that goddamn sexual tension of yours. You wanted dirt on Marinette?”

Adrien can barely follow along. “I didn’t ask for dirt—”

“She stole your phone once several years ago. That time you lost your phone for a while—she had it. She knew you were at fencing—hell, she knew your entire schedule. Her crush on you was a little out of hand, to be honest.”

He blinked. And blushed. “She knew my schedule? Why would she even steal my phone?” There were so many questions he needed to ask; half the things Alya said barely made sense.

“To get to know your shit better, what else?” Adrien’s eyes widened and Alya rolled her eyes. “She tried calling you to ask you out once. The little spaz can’t get two words out without stammering so she thought a call would be better.” Alya looked at Adrien. “You were at fencing.” She looks back at her hand, counting off her fingers, “You didn’t pick up, she freaked out, she threw your phone on her bed without hanging up, didn’t know that and continued talking to me, revealed some embarrassing stuff”—Alya shot him a look—“what else could be done to fix all that without stealing your phone?”

Adrien could only stare at her. “Is that all?” Alya smirked and crossed her arms. “To delete the voicemail?”

“You could have less sophisticated technology so it would make it easier for two innocent best friends to a crush’s phone and delete an embarrassing voicemail.” Alya brushed her hair back. “Though I did manage it.”

“That’s...uh, wow.”

Alya fixed him with a stare. “What else did you think she could do?”

“Explain the situation?” The girl shot him a look. Are you serious?

“If she told me how much she wanted it deleted, I wouldn’t even have listened to it.”

“She can barely talk to you. How do you think she would’ve managed that?”

Fair point. “Was it that bad?”

“You tell me. What did you think of Marinette speaking skills back then?”

She had him again. “Okay, I see what you mean. How does that help me?”

Alya groaned and threw her hands in the air. “Just because the girl doesn’t stutter like hell in front of you anymore doesn’t mean her feelings has changed. She still likes you. That much.” She poked him in the chest a couple times. Adrien backed away. “Even more so, now that you’re potentially stealing my spot for the best friend title.”

Adrien frowned. “I could never replace you.” Alya raised an eyebrow. “She’s your best friend.”

“Best girl friend, maybe,” she conceded, “but I know there are things she’s not telling me.”

“There are things she doesn’t tell me either.” Alya gave an unconvincing “hm”. “ Seriously,” he said. “You’re the best friend; I’m nothing more than the love interest.”

Alya shoved him. “I can’t tell if you’re giving yourself too much credit or too less. You’re important to her too. Also, you’re very smug about this whole ‘love interest’ thing.”

Adrien can’t stop the grin stretching on his face. “Yeah? Well, isn’t it expected considering how much she likes me?”

“Then you should get your ass moving. You’re doing it this weekend, right?”

“You make it sound like I’m assassinating her or something.”

“You practically are. You’re too happy about this.” Adrien opened his mouth to protest but Alya started to poke him again. “You are. And I know you can’t help it, so I’m not even going to bother to tell you to stop, because you won’t be able to. Marinette’s going to see right through that. And then she will blush. Massively.”

“That’s not bad.” Look, he finished mentally, That’s not a bad look at all.

“Yep,” Alya confirmed, eyes narrowed. “You’re too happy about this.” She shrugged. “I guess it’s okay though, since she’ll be pretty happy afterwards too.”

Adrien grinned.

“She might just murder you when you tell her.”

He tried not to let that get to him. Instead, Adrien tried to busy himself with his hands, finding his pencils, tablets, papers, anything necessary for a study session. There wasn’t any huge test or midterm coming up—only a simple quiz—but a lot of their classmates were going to join in and hit the library together. He zipped up his bag.

“I know,” Adrien said. “But it’ll be worth it.” That’s what he was trying to convince himself, anyways.

“You could’ve just told her a year ago. You would’ve been together for a year.”

“Oh, don’t give me that what could’ve been. I didn’t know her as well a year ago.”

“You still knew her,” Plaag pointed out, “rather well.”

“Yeah, yeah—oh, a call.” Adrien picked up his phone, seeing that it was from Nino. When he accepted the video call, he realized Alya was on the other side of the line, too.

“Study session is cancelled,” Nino said through the video chat. “Sucks.”

“And I really needed that review.” Alya groaned. “The quiz is on Tuesday, and I barely understand anything.” Alya’s perked up with a sudden idea. “Why don’t we just add Marinette to our video chat? We can add the other classmates too, if you want. But I think it would get too messy. What do you think, Nino?”

“I’m down.”

Alya looked at Adrien.

“I, uh,” Adrien said, “actually will go with Marinette. It’s raining, but I can still go to her house.”

Alya gave him a knowing look. Adrien hung up immediately. His heartbeat raced, pounding in his ears, and he tried to calm himself. Adrien placed a hand on his chest, feeling its thumps.

“Plagg?”

“What,” his kwami said from under the covers.

“We’re going out.”

“You’re visiting Marinette today? Weren’t you going to kiss her tomorrow?”

“I was going to tell her tomorrow, but there’s been a change of plans.”

“I’ll get the bandages ready.”

Alya was going to kill him.

After Marinette was done, of course.

He might’ve just teased her a little too much.

But that's okay, decided Adrien, as he smiled into Marinette's hair. It was worth it.

She didn’t kill him.

At this point, he knew Marinette wasn’t completely angry with him (even if he had vestiges of fear).

Marinette certainly got in quality attempts to, however.

“Should I even let you in?” Marinette hissed when he showed up at her door a couple hours ago. Adrien grinned and Marinette narrowed her eyes even more.

“I brought flowers?” he said, bringing out the bouquet from behind his back.

“Hm,” Marinette gave, turning slightly away, crossing her arms and closing her eyes. Adrien was still smiling.

“And a fashion magazine? It's a longer issue, with pages they had before editor has them removed. Small annotations, too.”

Marinette turns back to him, arms still crossed. “I might be persuaded to let you in.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, not missing the way Marinette’s eyes darted to his lips. His chest flips. “Is it a hard decision?” Adrien asked, barely aware of the words he’s saying.

She made a weird sound in her throat, her face flickering between two different expressions, fighting for victory. “Not at all,” Marinette squeaked

“I also brought a picture of me, ‘cause I don’t quite think your collection is big enough—”

She slammed the door in his face.

Maybe his girlfriend should take on Hawkmoth’s plans, because if she had taken his Miraculous, he wouldn’t be able to get in. But in the next minute, he had slid down her trapdoor and tiptoed to the living room, where he could hear she was still fuming to herself, ranting to Tikki.

“The nerve of him!” he heard her say.

“What nerve?” Adrien asked her cheekily. Unfortunately, he hadn’t caught her on surprise. Marinette spun on her heel, grabbed him by his bell, and threw him against the wall.

“Even without transformation, my lady?” Adrien whistled. “You never cease to impress me.”

“And you never cease to annoy me,” she replied, lowering her self to his eyelevel. Marinette grabs his collar harshly and Adrien prepares himself for her second hurl.

She kissed him instead.

Adrien sunk into the kiss instantly and cups her face. He also decides the transformation isn’t really needed anymore, and sees a brilliant flash of green behind his closed eyelids. He parts from her but his eyes are still closed and Marinette’s still clutching his the soft cotton of his t-shirt and Adrien really likes this, really likes her.

Then she released him and did hurl him across the room.

“You never cease the surprise me either,” he said with a flourishing grin.

“Get up, you stupid cat,” she told him, holding a hand out. He took it and Marinette pulled him up. “What are doing here?”

“I can't visit my girlfriend?” They both flushed at the word. Adrien grinned at her, his face warm, but despite being slightly embarrassed, he enjoyed every moment. He watched with delight as Marinette struggled to maintain her composure, vigorously fighting down a blush that’s creeping up her cheeks.

“Not if he can't help teasing me.” She leaned in to peck him again. “Do you want to finish this?” Marinette grabs a DVD case from the coffee table and holds it up. It’s the second of movie of the one they watched a couple days ago. Marinette’s favorite, he remembered. Truthfully, he didn’t enjoy it that much, though it was good. Just not his type of genre.

Adrien wrapped a hand around her shoulders, kissing the side of her head, his lips landing on her soft hair. “Sure,” he answered her.

Marinette giggled, dragging him to the seat next to her on the couch. He sat closer than he usually does, but considering yesterday, he’s happy he had the liberty to do so.

His girlfriend picks up the remote that she placed on the couch’s rest arm and clicks it on. Adrien snickers when he sees that it’s paused five minutes into the movie.

“What’s the point of asking me if I want to watch it if you already started? You'll just finish it anyways.”

She shoots him a knowing smirk. “I knew you’d say yes.”

“You know me well.”

“Mhm.” His heart skipped more than one beat when Marinette abruptly dragged her legs over, placing them over his lap. Adrien felt his neck warm, his ears burn.

Marinette looked at him questionably. “Are you okay?” As if she had no idea.

“Yeah,” he breathed. Marinette nodded, and went back to watching the movie.

He could barely concentrate. Which is a little disheartening because he wants to try to enjoy it as Marinette is. But between her legs wrapped over his and warm hands touching his bare arms, Adrien hardly has a rational thought.

She’s practically sitting on me.

“I have a question,” Marinette asked suddenly. Her attention is still focused on the movie, but Adrien can read from her eyes that it’s anywhere but.

“Yeah?”

“What did you think when you figure out I was Ladybug?”

He looked at her. Her eyes barely darted to him, but he was able to see it; he always had that connection with her, even when she tried hiding it. Adrien flickered back to the conversation they had a year ago: Marinette admitting her fear of not living up to expectations.

Glancing at his girlfriend, his wonderful partner, Adrien’s almost disappointed in himself that he didn’t resolve this fear of hers earlier.

“What did I think? Well,” Adrien said, smiling a little as he watches the movie, “I tried pushing away the thought that you were Ladybug.” In the corner of his eye, he saw her lips quiver. In his hands, he felt her stiffen. Marinette, he pleaded, listen, I won’t hurt you. “ You trusted me and I respected you; I wasn’t about to go about figuring out who Ladybug was without your permission.”

She looked at him. “But you did,” she croaked.

“That’s because...I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You and Ladybug—I don’t even know. You’re just so similar, in more ways than you can see. Just one day, I realized...I already saw you as one person. I’m surprised I didn’t let anything slip. With how comfortable I was seeing you two as the same person, I thought I would’ve mentioned something I told Ladybug, not Marinette.” Adrien laughed, scratching his cheek. “I mean, you are the same person, but you didn’t know I knew that.”

“So...you aren’t—”

“Marinette,” Adrien said. “You’re my best friend. You’re my partner. Don’t ever think I would be disappointed in you, okay?”

She didn’t brighten. She softened, but she didn’t relax. The tension in her face was still plainly evident. Marinette didn’t smile that smile he wanted to see, that happy face she always had.

“Marinette,” Adrien started again, feeling this immense need to make her feel wanted, special, “you said so yourself, right? I knew you were Ladybug and it didn’t change our relationship. A whole year—I’m really sorry about that. But we’re still best friends, partners aren’t we?”

“More than that,” Marinette replied, pecking his lips.

“I don’t think so. Lovers have that, yes, but I think that you and I always have each other’s backs. We’re always there for each other, right? We didn’t need to date for that.”

Marinette looked up at him then, and then—then she gives him that smile he’s been waiting for. Her lips stretch, her eyes glimmer and Adrien can’t help but to lean in. His eyes haven’t closed yet so he can count each individual freckle on her face, and there’s a lot of them. A lot of those beautiful spots marked on her skin that Adrien wanted to kiss. He might take a while just counting them all, but that’s something he doesn’t mind spending forever doing.

“But I’m still glad we are,” Marinette whispered, and all of his lingering, suppressed worries regarding her not forgiving him for keeping this secret for an entire year was washed away. He pressed in close, the same time Marinette invited him to her, and they sit on her couch, kissing, for what felt like hours.

“I have a question, too,” he told her when they part. Marinette’s eyes were half hooded, glazed over. His heart won’t calm down at the sight.

“What?” she asked.

He chuckled, kissing her nose. “What was your reaction when you found out I was Chat Noir? You didn’t figure it out like that I did and I’m sure that must’ve been shocking…”

“Hmm,” Marinette pondered, a hand at her chin. “I was a little surprised at first,” she admitted, “but even though it’s only been about twenty-four hours since I found out...I don’t feel any different.” Marinette laughed. “I think it’s because you’re my best friend and I knew you better than I thought I did. I just never realized.”

“And you’re okay with it? With liking me—liking Chat Noir…”

Marinette blinked. Then flushed—massively. He would never tired of that sight. “I—I, uh...”

He nodded a little, patiently bidding her to continue.

Marinette swallowed, closing her eyes as if to steel herself. “I liked you—both of you. Adrien and Chat Noir. I hated it because you kept on confusing me…” She looked away, embarrassed.

He smiled. Really smiled. Marinette must hate him for it because her eyes peeked at his before darting away with mortified fury.

She was so cute. Though he needed to remedy this issue.

Adrien’s knuckles brushed her cheek. Marinette didn’t flinch like he almost expected her to, but instead actually leaned into him. Adrien tried not to burst with happiness right then and there.

He loved her so much.

“You confused me too,” he finally said. She stared at him, shocked and puzzled. “I mean, significantly less, since I guess I caught on earlier. But you made me really confused. I couldn’t fathom how much I liked you.”

She’s practically burning right in front of him. Adrien didn’t bother concealing his grin.

He swooped down to kiss her again.

“I like you,” she whispered against his lips. “I like you, I like you, I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Adrien kissed her too. “I like you so much.” Feeling over the moon, Adrien held on to her hips and spun her. She giggled gleefully, face red as Marinette tried to steady him by placing her hands on his shoulders. “I like you, I like you, I like you, I like you,” he paralleled her, setting her down and connecting foreheads, “I like you so much .”

Her breath is intertwined with laughter. “That was one too many, I think.”

“Can’t be. I’m saying how much I like you.”

She blushed at his cheesiness and he did a little too. But Adrien didn’t mind. They were both hopeless romantics.

“I can’t believe this,” Marinette confessed. “That was only yesterday… ”

“Me neither,” admitted Adrien, “though according to Nino, we acted like we were already dating…”

She wrinkled her nose. “Please. I would’ve known.”

He laughed. “Really? You didn’t react to my flirtations the same way when Chat Noir flirted with Ladybug.” Marinette flushed—a lot. More than Adrien expected she would.

“That’s—that’s because Chat Noir—yo-you didn’t—you weren’t serious!”

Adrien gaped at her. His jaw literally dropped. There was a pause. A pregnant one. “What? ”

Marinette was stubbornly angry. Stamping her feet, she insisted, “You weren’t!” Her hands was whacking the air violently now.

He continued to stare at her.

“You weren’t?” Marinette asked tentatively, dropping her fire when Adrien didn’t respond to her for maybe an hour. “I mean...I wasn’t sure if you were?”

“You weren’t sure,” he repeated, incredulous. She wasn’t sure. If the entire class hadn’t asserted that they were hopelessly in love with each other, Adrien might’ve not been overwhelmed with perplexity. “You weren’t sure.”

“I wasn’t, okay?” Marinette snapped, though Adrien could tell she’s embarrassed. “You were Chat Noir and yeah, you flirted with me, but you flirted with Marinette, too! How was I supposed to know that was real?”

He groaned.

“You’re the only person I ever flirted with,” he said finally, ignoring the blush that’s crawling at the back of his neck.

Marinette whirled towards him, eyes wide.

“I admit, I flirted with you without knowing you were the same person. But you were. And I guess I wasn’t serious initially…” He scratched the back of his head, unsure how to about this. “I did like you. I didn’t know how I liked you...Not to mention, I’m more open as Chat Noir.”

“You got that right,” Marinette mumbled. He chuckled and pulled her in. She buried herself into the crook of his neck.

“Did you like me flirting with you?”

“You better shut up right now, kitty, unless you want to be thrown across the room again.”

“Ah, the perks of having a superhero as your girlfriend.” Adrien pulled away, watching her glowing face. He brushed her bangs back.

“Don’t tease me.”

“Now don’t go asking for the impossible.”

Watching her blush massively again, freckles illuminated clearly, Adrien decided that he would never tire of teasing her.

But now, now Adrien thinks he’s getting what he deserves.

He could hear Ladybug’s smirk when he exhaled, eyes closed in pleasure, and Adrien briefly wondered if this was how Marinette felt like when he did the same.

She pulled her head back and he opened his eyes to see a beautifully confident expression gracing her face, lips curled up in the corner. “Is this the part where I say ‘cat got your tongue’, handsome boy?”

It’s thrilling, Adrien noticed as his heart flips, when Ladybug utilized both his identities like that. He leaned down, lips barely touching. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?” he asked, brushing his lips over hers, but pulling away when she leaned forward. It’s a little disappointing when she didn’t flush massively like he’s used to, but it’s also exhilarating when Ladybug smirked in reply, sensually tucking one finger around his collar and pulling it towards her, slowly. His nose bumped with hers, and his heart is beating so erratically, Adrien’s not sure if he’s ever going to regain his calm.

Her breath was intoxicating. Adrien’s eyes fluttered shut when Ladybug’s mouth hovered over his and her hands crawled up his hip and towards his chest. He can’t feel the cool of her fingertips or the warm of her palm when she’s Ladybug, yet the touch of her gloves was equally appealing. He sighed heavily when she dragged a finger down his chest.

“Can you kiss me already?” he asked. Adrien was unable to suppress the slight quirk of his lips when Ladybug laughed. She pulled her hand away from his chest, which was bothersome but as she drifted her fingers lower, at an almost painstakingly slow rate, Adrien’s heart threatened to burst. He heard his sigh again and Ladybug’s fingers left him.

She brings both her hands up, cupping his face, and Adrien tilted his head, anticipating her kiss. Instead, Ladybug kept propelling her head forward, at an angle, passing his lips to kiss his jaw. He shifted his head to give her a better angle, getting just a bit annoyed now when he felt her smug lips curve under his neck.

“Satisfied, are we?” he managed without tripping over his words. Kind of, Adrien added, when a strange sound finished his question as Ladybug bit his ear gently. After she’s done with that new aspect to this innovative form of (admittedly pleasing) torture, he felt her lean up, her chest brushing his, so she could whisper, “Consider it payback.”

She pulled back, triumphant grin lighting her features and Adrien tried to roll his eyes. Or anything of the sort to indicate that he’s not completely entranced by her. But he was. Completely and entirely.

He let her roll around in her victory for a couple seconds, before Adrien decided he’s done with Ladybug teasing him, and tugged tightly on her left arm. She’s too immersed with her victory to anticipate it, and her accomplished expression dropped just a bit when Adrien successfully had her close, his left arm wrapped around her waist. He didn’t waste a single second (or give her any to plan her strategy) and leaned in to press his lips to hers.

It seemed she’s finished teasing him too, because she melted and her arms were thrown around his neck in an instant. Ladybug stepped on her tippie-toes to pull them together closer, effectively dragging Adrien down to her level.

When he stepped forward, Ladybug took one back, and they’re awkwardly fumbling until he heard Ladybug’s calf hit the edge of his bed. Adrien broke apart for a brief moment to see her. Her eyes were dazed, but when Adrien’s eyes dart to the bed behind her, Ladybug grinned widely, made a grab his collar and fell on to his soft bed, pulling him down with her.

His hands shot out frantically to hold himself, worried that Adrien would crush her under his weight, but Ladybug seemed like she could care less. She’s kissing him again before his mind even recovered from his initial concern, and distracted, Adrien’s stiff body relaxed under her touch.

Ladybug drew her head back, resting it on his covers, breathing heavily. Her cheeks were tinted with pink, not as red as Adrien was used to seeing on Marinette, but the sight still made his heart soar. He leaned down again, lips touching the area below her chin, and murmured, “How much more do I need to kiss you until you’re as red as your suit?”

He laughed outright when Ladybug swatted him. “Are you ever not going to be cheeky?”

“Hmm,” he said, as if actually thinking, eyes locked with Ladybug’s. Grinning, he pressed another kiss to the bridge of her nose. “No.”

“Ugh,” Ladybug tried, but it’s poor. There’s barely any actual irritation in it. “You’re horrible.”

“Mhm,” he agreed, though he hasn’t completely registered what she said. Adrien’s busy kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose again, pulling away again to get a good look of her face.

His breath hitched when Ladybug’s hands tucked under the hem of his shirt again. Her hands roamed his back. She pulled them towards his upper body. Higher up his back, his shirt riding up as she does so.

“If you want my shirt off, you can just ask.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” Ladybug raised an eyebrow. One of her hand dipped, and Adrien shuddered when her fingers crawl on the side of his torso, dancing towards his chest.

“I think you’re getting a head start,” he whispered, partly because he’s trying to be just as seductive as she was right now, but mainly because Adrien didn’t think his voice can go much louder without squeaking or something that’s just as mortifying.

“Is that your roundabout way of inviting me to go shirtless?”

Adrien burned. Ladybug was scary, almost. He didn’t expect Marinette to say something so straightforward, but Ladybug thew it out there without blinking.

“I’m just,” he begined, his words caught in his throat as Ladybug raised her eyebrow, her mask curved, expectant. “I’m just, uh, thinking that you should give Tikki a break.”

“Oh please,” she said, flicking his forehead. “You're just too undone.”

“And who's fault is that?” he asked, eyes hooded when he drops his head closer to her's. Ladybug tilted just her chin up, giving him a closed lip, chaste kiss. It's absolutely delicious.

A bright light of pink bounced behind his closed eyelids, and when he opened them, the vestiges of pretty sparkles fluttered in his vision. Adrien grinned, one Marinette returned with a beam, and he's leaning down to kiss her forehead, the skin below her brow, the curve under the waterline of her eye.

“You're pushy today, kitty,” she said, her actions contradicting her words when her fingers carded through his hair. From being with her for almost half a year, Adrien had been quite acquainted with the fact that Marinette loved his hair.

His heart thrummed. Pushing himself further towards her, Adrien hoped that it’s enough indication for what he wants. When Marinette’s hold on the ends of his locks tightened, he smiled through their kiss, humming. She knew him too well.

Adrien felt her giggle a little through her kiss, and before he was even aware, she’s pulling away and getting off the bed. Still not thinking clearly, he wantingly crawls towards where she’s leaving. Marinette noticed, laughed, and pressed another small kiss to his lips.

“Good to know, but we should probably get started.”

“On what?” he asked, still trying to pull her towards him. She allowed him, for a brief second that was. She’s far enough to avoid his lips, but close enough to tap him on his nose.

“Our project. I don’t want to fail history.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he mumbled, lying on his back in the bed alone as Marinette hopped off. She laughed again and Adrien dragged his eyes from the sight of his boring ceiling to Marinette’s back. She sauntered to his chair, spinning in it as she pushed herself to his desk.

“I still can’t believe you have three monitors. Is that even necessary?” Adrien caught her briefly scrunching her nose and tapping the desktop on. It flickered to life, shooting up the home screen as the computer slowly wakes up. He knows the feeling.

Still groggy from her heated kisses, Adrien managed to roll over to his front and sit up on the bed. Marinette’s tapping her cheek patiently as she waited for all his programs to load, for the browser to open up so they can start research.

However, when the desktop came up, Marinette’s fingers didn’t direct the mouse towards the icon for internet; instead, Marinette clicked on his files.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, still rather distracted. The girl didn’t answer him, but simply scrolled through his recents.

Adrien strode towards her, slinging his body over hers, hugging her towards him. His eyes drooped from exhaustion, ready to just take a nap standing with his arms wrapped around Marinette like this when something caught his eye.

Marinette’s cursor hovered over Pictures, and too late, Adrien realized what she’s doing.

“Wait!” he shouted, arm shooting out to stop hers, but Marinette’s a million steps ahead of him.

She gave Adrien a taste of his own medicine.

“What, you didn’t want to tell me about the thousands of pictures you have in a folder called ‘Ladybug wonders’?”

He tried to play it cool. Really, he did. But Adrien couldn’t help the flush that grew on the back of his neck and he’s almost sure his entire face was burning.

“Y-yeah,” he managed, which was quite embarrassing. He just stood there, maybe a meter away from his girlfriend of six months, who turned around from the computer and smugly reclined in his soft chair. A hand propped her chin up, and although she’s sitting in a simple, modern chair, Adrien thought that she looked like a queen.

She got up, a move that’s ten times more graceful and knee-weakening than it should be, and Marinette placed a hand at his shoulder. It practically burned him.

“Wasn’t going to bother telling me how wonderful I am?”

“I tell you that plenty,” he murmured, still completely entranced with her entire being. God—she was going to kill him.

“Hm,” she responded and flipped back, her hair smacking him in the process because of how close she was standing. Marinette sat back in her seat and selected all his pictures, previewing them. Her eyebrows raised when she gets to the pictures of Ladybug eating cookies from the bakery. She smiled a little when a particularly close up picture comes up, her bright blue eyes illuminated clearly. “These are nice pictures.”

“I know right?” he agreed immediately and Marinette laughed. She continued scrolling, almost deleting one photo of her making a silly face. Adrien’s able to stop her in time; Marinette relents, moving on to the next couple. Her face scrunched up at a particular close up of her drinking a soda; she must’ve thought she looked unappealing, but Adrien didn’t save the photo to his computer for nothing.

Her fingers keep scrolling through, viewing all sorts of photos at all sorts of angles. Newspaper headers, candid photos, posed selfies he’s managed to snag—all of them.

“Almost as good as yours,” she decided, sending him a look. “But you definitely have a lot more pictures than I do.”

He could play this game. Adrien fixed his face into a sly expression. He crossed his arms. “Oh, sure. If we’re not counting the photoshopped images you have in your edits folder.”

“Hey!” She flipped back to the computer, obviously trying to find more secrets to dig out. “That’s not fair; you infiltrated my computer.”

“Um…” he said slowly, barely trying to suppress the victory in his voice. He walked closer to the desk, arm over the chair’s back rest. Adrien dropped a little to bring his head to Marinette’s level. His breath ghosted his ear. “Like you’re doing right now?”

He affected her. Marinette shivered a little and the grin at his lips grow. Indignant, Marinette tried to focus on the computer. She’s clicked back to the previous pictures folder, scrolling through the endless file he has on his computer, trying to find some other picture file that may beat all the photos she had of him. Adrien maintained his smugness. She won’t find any; he’s won this one.

But Adrien is too fixated on his rare win that he doesn’t notice Marinette diving off his chair and for a drawer near his bed. She opens it and pulls out a pillow.

“ Ha!” she shrieked. “I win—you have Ladybug merchandise!” Marinette raised the pillow up like it’s an offering to the heavens. Adrien’s a bit embarrassed, but he realized something else. He raised an eyebrow.

“Is this really a game of who has more embarrassing Parisian superhero stuff?”

She faltered. Marinette doesn’t flush—not the kind Adrien’s expecting anyways. A red made way on her face and her face morphed into an expression that Adrien couldn’t even deem as “mild embarrassment”.

“No,” Marinette answered, putting the pillow down. She looked furious. He couldn’t really tell what it’s directed at. “I’m just...I kind of just want to prove that I wasn’t the only one obsessed.”

He frowned. That’s what this was about? He stepped towards her, wrapping his hand around the back of her left hand. She let him lace his fingers through hers and the pillow falls to the ground.

“I was obsessed,” he reassured her. Marinette’s eyes darted away. “I am obsessed. How can I not be?” Adrien presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I always feel like my crush on Adrien was way over the top. I mean”—she rolls her eyes, a little jokingly, but Adrien can see her shaking, just slightly—“everyone knew. Even you did.”

“Oh.” He coughed. “Yeah.”

Marinette looked at him. “What?”

“I...I didn’t know.”

Marinette laughs. “What?” she repeated.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure if you liked me.” She gapes at him. “ What?” Adrien said this time.

“How could you not be?”

“How could you not know Chat Noir liked you? He visited Marinette on the balcony. For years!”

“A year and a half and no, I was not counting— see? ” Marinette hollered. She covered her face with her hands. “See? I know that. I always feel like you’re the one driving me crazy.”

Did she actually believe that? How could she actually say that honestly? “Marinette,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her lips. She let him, pressing back, but he could taste the insecurity. “I am so incredibly crazy for you. How can I not be? How could that even be possible?”

Marinette kissed him. Very thoroughly. He had to be crazy for her because the feeling that she poured into the kiss very matched the feelings he had for her.

“Okay,” she says, her eyes brightened. Marinette is positively glowing with happiness. “Okay.”

He pecked her lips again. “Should we get started on that history project?”

She didn’t seem very into it anymore. “Mmm…” Marinette feigned thinking. She tapped her lips, something that obviously affected him insanely. “No. I’m tired. I think I’ll take a nap.” Marinette winked and Adrien’s breath caught. She didn’t actually mean—

Then, Marinette grabbed the Ladybug pillow from its fallen place on the ground and hopped onto his bed, faking light snores.

Marinette shrieked with laughter when he tackled her for the pillow.

#my fics #ml fic #ml fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #ladynoir #finally posted why am i like this its legit been two years since i wrote this #ml

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