#and i decided to pass by my favorite little bakery that a nice lady i talk to sometimes owns so i could get some honey bread

[latenightsundayblues]

I imagine their banter and bickering in the process of killing someone would deal greater psychological damage than the torturing itself

[bisexualgirlie]

Hii)) can I request?? William James Moriarty x fem. dazai (reader). How they meet each other and how he react when he realized that he fall in love with fem! Dazai. Also what was his reaction when he founds that dazai(reader) was the well known port mafia member??

Your wish is my command! Although I'm a bit confused but I'll make it worth! (Also this is still in the 19th century, also I'll make reader a bit more kind and caring)

(also thank you for the request! I really need some)

Key word with '(hi)' is author's note

William James moriarty x gn!dazai reader

You inhaled a sigh as the warm air of tea filled your nose, you were casually eating at the cake shop. At some point you were lost in your thoughts dreaming about suicide, and how you could stab the fork you're using to your heart, but. You thought again that it would hurt you and it would be no good so you just sighed ignoring the thought.

You were now looking at the window and you saw a young man about the age of 20 stepping on a child and hitting her, you thought, is she an orphan perhaps? It was not a good sight. So you decided to step in, you rose up from your seat and paid, you hurriedly ran exiting the bakery. Once you've reach the front of the bakery you cough a little to gain their attention.

“it's a bit rude hitting a little girl Infront of the bakery is it? It's pathetic to see such thing! Would you please kindly leave that child pretty boy?~” you kindly asked your deep-like honey voice coating your venomous words. You stepped in front of the child, protecting her. “huh? Who are you to tell me such things! Do you know who I am? Leave us wretched woman!” you gasped in disbelief as the man grabbed your wrist. You were about to punch him until a man stepped in.

He steps Infront of you and the little girl. “that's not a proper attitude Infront of a lady, baron asshat”(iykyk the reference(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)is actually from eminence in shadow) said the man with a smile on his face. “what's wrong brother?” you shifted your gaze to a young man that ran up to him, as he finally stood beside him, you could almost feel the young man glare at the baron called 'asshat', you were quite confused but kept quiet and observe them out of curiosity.

After they had done talking the supposed baron had left with an angry expression on his face. “are you okay miss?” he asked worried “my my!~ a handsome man has come to save us? How lucky! Might I know your name?” you asked in your usual flirting tone. “ah.. my name is William James Moriarty and this is my brother, Louis James Moriarty, my lady.” he sweated, it was clear that he was used and not used to this kind of flirting.

“how delightful! My name is y/n l/n! And I thank you for saving me and this child.” you smiled cheekily at him, kneeling to pat the head of the child and giving her some money to let her buy food. “now if it is alright with you, may I have a nice chat with tea?” you grin with a smile still intact on your face.

And that's how you met the two, sometimes you would even go to their home to pass boredom, and with the constant coming there, you eventually met Albert James Moriarty the older brother of Louis and William. Along with their 'servants' Fred, James, and sebatian. And eventually got acquainted with everyone in the mansion. While exploring you did know the secret of the Moriarty household and about the plan to change the world. Also about the crime consultant thing, they eventually settled things and let you in the missions. Oh and also I'll let you in on a secret!

William fell inlove with you at first sight and had realized it when he was eating at your favorite bakery which reminded him of you btw. And that man had never widen his eyes and coughed out his tea that fast. He then confessed and you said yes and eventually you guys started dating. When he figured out that you were once involved with the underground mafia this man was shocked! Well not that shock because your name was quite familiar and your skills with knives and guns was impressive, talented even. He eventually confronted you and asked you to clarify his suspicion.

“i knew you'd figure it out! And yes infact I did am involve with the mafia a few years ago” you confirmed as you were watering the flowers of the garden. “sooo. How'd you figured it out hmm?” you asked gazing away from the flowers to look at him. “well I looked into your background and your quite skilled with weapons which had led me to figure it out” he replied and you hummed, now looking back at the flowers. “well is that all you'd like to ask?” he nodded which you smiled and continued watering the flowers.

God you were so lucky this man is your boyfriend

And that's all! How would you this fic from one to ten? Also please give me some request I really need them. And thank you for reading hope you are in good health!

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Marley

Summary: Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours. Her name was Marley.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: Mention of past and present relationships, parenting, mention of food

Word Count: 3.7k

a/n: This is my first story posted on here. I’ve been writting for +12 years now but for the last couple of years, I couldn't finish a single story. Turns out Bucky Barnes was all I needed to get over my massive writer’s block. Feedback is greatly appreciated. (Also, english is not my native language so if you spot any grammar mistake, please let me know!)

Masterlist

It all began with his friend, Sam.

On a night they were out for drinks, he had made it his mission to find someone for Bucky. Someone or anyone for the matter. He talked to everyone in the bar that night, while Bucky drank his beer, sitting at the counter. When it was clear enough that nobody there that night would keep grumpy Bucky company, Sam turned his attention on the dating app his friend had downloaded on his phone some weeks ago. He probably went through a dozen of profiles, sometimes showing the phone screen to Bucky, to what he would just respond by rolling his eyes and drinking some more beer.

That was until Sam showed him your profile. Bucky stared a second longer to the picture displayed on his phone screen than for the others. He couldn't tell what that was: the smile on your lips, the wrinkles at the side of your eyes or simply your eyes; but he couldn't get his eyes off it. Sam immediately started typing a message for you to what Bucky obviously protested. He did not need company because he was just fine on his own.

Despite his super-soldier abilities, he wasn't quick enough to take the phone from his friend's hands. The smile that appeared on Sam’s face annoyed Bucky even more. "What are you afraid of, though guy?" Sam had asked and Bucky eventually backed off, letting him do whatever he was planning on doing. There was no point in stopping Sam. He knew you wouldn't be interested anyway... To be honest, who would be? Bucky got his phone back along with a smirk from his friend. There was no answer after that, and Sam eventually found another topic to annoy the heck out of Bucky.

When he woke up the next morning, your reply notification was patiently waiting for him. For a second, he thought of deleting it, without having a look first. What did he have to lose? Gathering his courage, he opened it. Your words were as genuine as your smile and it made him grin like an idiot, though he made a mental note to later murder Sam for his poor choice of pick-up line. It took him the whole morning to be able to type an answer and another afternoon to press the ‘send’ button. It was the first text of many. Eventually, a lot of texts turned into calls; that turned into meeting up in your favorite French bakery; that turned into movies and restaurant dates.

    This was nearly one year and a half ago.

Your relationship with Bucky was cautious and steady. He liked how you would give him his space, but still being right there for him. He liked that you let him stare at you in total awe or that you always had small kind thoughts for him like when you made his eggs the way he preferred in the morning and that everything was so simple - obvious even - by your side. Eventually, Bucky gave his deepest secrets away and you let him know yours.

Her name was Marley.

If Bucky was being honest, finding out you had a two and a half years-old daughter was quite the shock. Not that he couldn't have seen that coming; you would always make plans, your handbag was always full of snacks and hand wipes and for some reason, you would never be available between five and eight p.m. That was also what he liked about you. The stability.

The idea of being involved in a relationship with somebody that already had a child did scare him off. If he decided to continue the relationship, it would not only be a matter of breaking your heart in the process – and well, maybe his too - but breaking a child's heart too. And that more than anything, he was refusing to assume the responsibility, but he owed you that much. You knew his deepest secrets and still, you didn't run away from him. Worse, you trusted him to be around your child.

You both had a lot of discussions about him meeting Marley - Bucky even seek advice to Sam. And as for the rest of your relationship, you took it slow. It started with Bucky showing up to your Sunday walk in Central Park, feeding up the ducks and sharing snacks. You also spent some time at the carnival where he would watch you two on the carousel – sometimes joining the ride too - and he would help Marley win at pick a duck or buy her popcorn. Eventually, he would spend more time with the two of you. It started with spending at least one evening per week at your place, making dinner while watching you playing with Marley in the living room. One evening turned into two, three, five evenings per week. He still could step out if he needed. You still could spend time with your daughter where he wasn't there. You still spent time just the two of you, when Marley was asleep at night or he would take you on date nights. The routine you three put in place was nice, but Bucky wasn't planning on taking Marley’s dad place. God, he would never see himself as a dad and Marley already had one - though in Bucky's opinion, he would not be awarded father-of-the-year.

    Today, Bucky was picking Marley up from daycare.

He had done it a million times already, but this time was a little bit different. He was doing it on his own. The babysitter stood you up and you were stuck in an endless one-day meeting. You had called in utter panic, asking him to pick Marley up from daycare and taking care of her until you would be home. He had assured you he would do it and it would be fine. Now that he was standing in front of the building, he was doubting himself. He didn't know if he could do it on his own.

Another shaky sigh and Bucky entered the building. The childcare workers greeted him when he showed up at Marley's room. She was sat at one of these tiny tables making some kind of collage crafts. He planned on waiting for her to finish, just staring like he always did, before announcing himself, but Marley spotted him the second his figure appeared at the door.

"Bucky!" Marley cried out, leaving everything behind and running towards him.

"Hey Mar-Mar," he smiled. She always seemed happy to see him and Bucky wondered if she would eventually grow tired of him being always around.

After they hugged each other, Marley was called to put away her crafts and Bucky encouraged her to go do it. In the meantime, he collected her stuff - her panda backpack, shoes, and coat - so he could get her ready to leave. And he did just that when she got back to him.

"We are taking the train home. I'mna carrying you, is that okay?"

She wrapped her little arms around his neck in response and he lifted her up from the floor. After sharing goodbye to the childcare workers, they were heading home.

    On their way to the station, Marley explained in every detail what she had done at daycare that day; Bucky was listening carefully, sometimes asking questions - Carol, she is the one with the curly hair, right? Was Mark mean to you again? - but mostly he was just nodding along. They made it to the station just in time to take the 5:17 p.m. train. It was rush hour and Bucky mindfully chose to hop on one of the cars at the end of the train - the ones he knew would be the less busy at this time of the day. He had only seven stops, so he didn't sit and stood against one of the train windows. By that time, Marley had finished reporting on her day, and she was just watching around, smiling at anyone she would make eye contact with.

After the second stop, her eyes caught the sight of the dog tag around Bucky's neck. She fiddled it through his T-shirt, probably wondering what that was, before taken it out to have a closer look. In her tiny hands, the metal tag seemed to be huge. She looked up at Bucky, with bright eyes and he swore, he would do anything for these eyes.

"What is that?"

"Uh- " Bucky wasn't sure how to explain it in a way a three-years old would understand. "-Every soldier has one. It uh- has my name on it and some other information."

"Is it if you get lost?" she asked, her little eyebrows raised high on her forehead. She did understand a lot of the world around her for her age. "Mommy put a card with her name and her phone number in my bag."

"Yeah, it's something like that."

Marley smiled at him and returned her attention on the letters’ reliefs on the metal. By the fourth stop, she was resting her head on his shoulder while he was still firmly (but not too much) holding her with his left arm. She kept holding his dog tag in her tiny fist and was patiently waiting.

"She is very sweet," the old lady sat on the seat in front of them said to him before leaving the train.

He nodded shyly and looked back at the little girl in his arms. Marley looked so much like you. Her face had still some baby features, she just turned three after all, but she had the same nose and her eyes had the same color as yours. They were the same piercing eyes that when they’d look at him, he felt like they could read his soul. And she did not just look like you. She had also some of your habits and personality traits. She would always be smiling to people she didn’t know. She was always saying ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’. She was obsessed with any kind of animal; the Sundays walks would last forever if she could pet all the dogs she encountered.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and Bucky got off the train on the seventh stop as planned. At the station, people turned on them as they passed. Maybe this was an odd sight: a man in combat boots, dark jeans, and a black leather jacket, carrying a small child in his arms. Especially knowing the kid in question was wearing white leggings, a red fluffy coat, and a stuffed panda backpack. Bucky didn't mind and continued his way to your place.

    Marley stayed quiet for the five minutes’ walk to your place, but once Bucky had turned on your street, she wriggled to be freed of his hold. Once her feet touched the ground, she directly ran towards a car parked not far away. She squatted down and started clicking her tongue. A ginger cat immediately came out from underneath the car.

"Careful," Bucky called out. He knew it was not recommended interacting with stray cat as they could be sick with all sorts of disease. And to be fair, it got him a little worried the cat was getting this close to Marley. He could already see her getting bitten by the cat, getting rabies, and losing her arm, or worse: dying.

"That's Gus, he lives at number 7," she said pointing at the building they stopped in front. It had the number written on it.

Gus started rubbing itself against Marley's shins and she gently petted his back. The cat then went to rub on Bucky's combat boots, also greeting him even though they never encountered before. And it continued his way to the building's porch, where it lazily lay down.

"Mommy said we could have a cat when we get a house."

"I've got a cat," Bucky stated and Marley cried out in excitement. She asked him about a hundred questions. What was its name? What was it looking like? Was it friendly? Was it sleeping in his bed with him at night? Bucky never failed to answer one of her questions and they talked about that until they made it in front of your apartment door.

    Marley was already on her way to her room when Bucky turned around after locking the door. She had removed her shoes and coat on her own and left them behind without putting them away like you would always request it.

"Uh-uh, we go wash your hands first, okay?"

After that was done, she ran to her room for good this time. Bucky went back to the living room and focused on what he could do to help you. He knew you would get home exhausted from your day at work and he did not want to have you do all the chores you usually did. It was the least he could do.

Somehow, your place was always tidier than his, and he lived on his own. In the kitchen, he found breakfast dishes in the sink and the dishwasher full of the dishes that had been cleaned the night before. That was where he would get started. He put away the dishes easily; he had been around your kitchen a lot those last months and he knew exactly where everything was. He even knew where you were hiding away the chocolate and candies; somewhere Marley didn't have access to.

"Hey Bucky, can I have snacks?"

A look at the watch sitting on his right wrist, she had still a good hour and a half before dinner and he replied positively. He wiped his hands on the dish towel resting on his shoulder and took one of these bamboo sectioned plates he just washed. He was reaching out to the first cupboards in front of him when it suddenly appeared to him, he had no idea what he could give her.

"What does your mom usually give you?" He asked Marley, turning back to her.

Marley shrugged. "Carrots and hummus." And Bucky swore this kid was eating healthier that he ever had.

He started by the fridge, looking for anything he could give to Marley. Thankfully, she wasn't a picky eater so it would be easy for him. Tonight's dinner was in it, along with some vegetables and fruits. He chose grapes because it was the only food, he could see himself eating at that time of the day.

"Grapes and uh-" he looked at the cupboards right next to the fridge "- crackers?"

Marley nodded. Bucky prepared it all on her plate, making sure there was just enough for her to be full but not too much so she would still eat dinner, and handed it to her. She carried it carefully to the living room, Bucky following behind. She had laid out all her crayons on the coffee table next to her Paw Patrol coloring book. He knew about this cartoon because it was the only one Marley ever wanted to watch, she was literally obsessed with it, and she did make him watch some episodes with her. He knew that, when she was playing alone in her room, she would usually pretend she was saving the world with them.

Bucky sat on the carpet, next to Marley, stealing one grape from her plate. She threw him a death glance but offered him some more if he would help with the coloring. He happily complied.

    Before dinner was normally bath time. Thankfully, you had said over the phone you would deal with that in the morning. For some reason, Marley did not like baths. A little bit of water in her eyes or ears was too much for her to handle and he wasn't sure he could deal with her being so upset on his own.

He still got her changed in her pajamas - she obviously chose the one with the dalmatian puppy from Paw Patrol you had agreed on buying a few weeks ago; washed her face with a cotton pad and some cleansing lotion, brushed her hair and tried the best he could to tie them in a low ponytail. You would normally braid them for the night, but this was not something Bucky mastered at all - he made a mental note to watch some tutorials on YouTube to learn though.

"Will you and mommy get married?" Marley asked out of nowhere while Bucky was carrying her back to the kitchen to have dinner.

"I don't know," he said, confused. "Why do you ask?"

"I prefer you over my real daddy," Marley admitted. And it broke his heart. Bucky knew how her dad forgot about her third birthday and missed most of his custody days lately. He didn't really understand how somebody could have a child and knowingly decide not take care of them anymore.

The child in his arm was so precious. It amazed him every day how much she could comprehend of the world around her. She was smart, creative, kind. She knew what she wanted, would be very stubborn about it and would do anything to get it – you always said you didn’t understand where she got her fierce mind and Bucky laughed every time because he knew exactly from whom she had gotten it: you. You did such a good job raising her on your own. He also knew you would always choose her over him, and he had to admit, it made him fall in love even more with you.

"Even if I'd marry your mom, I still wouldn't be your daddy officially."

"To me, you would," Marley concluded as if it was as simple as that.

Living with you two permanently. Marrying you. Bucky never thought of it. He liked how this relationship was working: the kindness, the trust, the love. He loved the movie dates with you, the Sundays walks, and the evening just the three of you. He loved how simple it all was and how it made him just happy. Happiest he had been in a long time. And he wondered if he wanted more. The way his heart was fluttering in his chest made him realized, he did. He didn't know if he was ready though.

    Back to the kitchen, he put her down on her seat before getting the casserole of potato gratin out of the oven. He put a small portion in her plate, next to some chopped carrots and apple sauce he already prepared. He put it down in front of her and sat next to her.

"Will you eat with mommy?"

"Yeah, is that alright?"

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. They had stayed coloring her books a little too long and it was nearly her bedtime. Smiling softly, he encouraged her to eat. She did while asking some more questions on his cat in between each mouthful. How old is it? Why did you name it Alpine? Has mummy already met it? Do you think she'll like me? Turned out this little one never run out of question.

After dinner, Bucky gave her a small portion of chocolate from the special cupboard and they agreed it would be their little secret. Then, he carried her to the bathroom to brush her tiny teeth. It was started to be late for her and she was clearly fighting against sleep, the lack of it upsetting her.

"I want to see mommy," she cried, lips trembling and eyes full of tears.

"I know Mar-Mar, she'll get there soon," Bucky tried to comfort her. You hadn't text yet, meaning you weren't on your way still. He knew Marley would be asleep before you got home. "We can read a book in your bed while we wait for her, yeah?"

Marley nodded and let Bucky carry her to her bed. She had her head rested on his right shoulder the whole time. She crawled under the covers the moment her body was dropped off on the bed. She let Bucky choose the bedtime story and he chose the one he knew she liked so much.

He laid beside her gently and she immediately reached out closer to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, and her hands somehow found his dog tag again. A small kiss on her forehead and Bucky started reading the book in his left hand. Marley was listening carefully, helping him by turning the page.

At the end of the story, she was fast asleep against him, his dog tag still in her tiny fist. Bucky did not dare moving, afraid he would wake her up if he did. He observed the small child against him and listened to her soft breathes. She looked so peaceful and it made him thought of the way she had welcomed him into her life. Just like you, she had taken him as a whole; with his trauma, his insecurities, his quietness, and his staring habits. And now, she had him wrapped around his little finger. He knew deep in his guts he wouldn't let anything happen to you or your daughter. He realized that now. That made him think some more: maybe he was ready after all. And this time, he would not let happiness slip away from him.

  Bucky stayed like that until twenty minutes later, when you showed up on your daughter’s room doorstep. You looked exhausted yet still radiant. A smile had formed on your lips at the sight in front of you. It made you melt right on the spot.

"Hey," Bucky greeted you softly.

You came closer, walking on your tiptoes, careful of not waking up your daughter. You laid besides them, kissing your daughter little fist, and tucked yet another strand of hair behind her ear. You looked back at Bucky, who was intensely staring at you. His left arm was already wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you close. You kissed his jaw, making him smile gently. "Thank you for taking care of her. Did it go okay?"

"More than okay." He kissed your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. His heart could burst of the feeling of having you two near him forever.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

[youamongthemelissas]

hi mwah <3

may i have a scenario with zoro being a brat who doesn't want to go down on his girl, but she just puts in his place by sitting on his face? 👀

ara ara, it seems that the fifteen hours I've been sleeping have made me reap the rewards uwu

well, I really hope you like the result and that those 3,3k words make up for the delay in my writer's block. i've only reviewed it a few times because i'm really really sleepy right now, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes! :(

warning: oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, face sitting, etc. only for +18. smut everywhere

Zoro and I had known each other for almost two years, but he changed his position from hookup to boyfriend two months ago. Our chaotic relationship started at a horrible party. Everything that night was horrible, except when the handsome guy approached me offering his help when some ramshackle human being spilled water on my shirt. To complete my disaster, the outfit I wore was white and cotton, so it marked the contours of my breasts just right. Damn day I decided to leave my house without wearing a bra. Too embarrassed, I just crawled into the bathroom – which didn't even have a lock – and waited for the crowd to dwindle or for my shirt to dry so I could get out of that unhealthy place. But fate didn't have the best plans for me, as I saw the bathroom door open and a man enter that cubicle.

"This is the ladies' wc, you know?" I informed the guy angrily.

“I know,” he replied simply. "I saw the whole scene, so I decided to come make sure you're okay."

I arched my brow and stared at him with half-closed eyes. Was he feeling okay? I looked for signs of drunkenness in him, but his voice was steady and he looked too sober.

“Very nice of you, but you can't just lock yourself together with a strange woman in a cubicle. You know, I can interpret this as sexual harassment!” I snapped.

“Oh, fine. I was going to lend you my shirt so you could wear it and wouldn’t have to wait for yours to dry, but I see you don't need my help. Bye and sorry for the inconvenience,” and so he left, not giving me a chance to respond.

I cursed the Universe, but then I stopped myself because a tarot reader had informed me that a situation like this could happen throughout the week and I didn't listen. In the end, it was my fault for being a stubborn and skeptical one.

I really couldn't tell how long I was locked in that fetid cubicle, but when my t-shirt dried enough not to leave me practically naked from the waist up, I walked out and saw the same guy as before, he was talking to a red haired girl, actually it looked more like an argument was going on between them by his annoyed expression and her restless gestures. Would she be his girlfriend? Was the discussion focused on me and the bathroom incident? Well, I wouldn't stay there to find out and risk getting hit by the girl for something that wasn't my fault. He was the one who entered the ladies' room with an unknown woman!

And my disastrous night ended when I lay in my bed and turned off the light to finally sleep and erase all memories of the party from my head. But that boy's face has not left my mind.

The days followed normally, and when I was already forgetting the cool guy, I saw him for the second time in a bakery. He wore the same shirt that day of the party and sweatpants. His sleepy face gave away that he had just woken up and had just left the house to go buy bread for breakfast. He saw me but pretended not to. I got the feeling I should have apologized for the misunderstanding, but he was already making the request. Luckily, we were assisted together as soon a second attendant appeared who assisted me as well.

As soon as we paid the bill, we silently left the place and I got a chance to talk to him as we were heading in the same direction.

“Hey,” I called him, being ignored. "Boy, wait a minute"

“What is it, girl?”, he snapped at me sharply.

“I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding… Seriously, I was just freaked out by a guy walking me into the bathroom…”, I was sincere.

"It's all right. Go on with your life in peace.”

“And you had a girlfriend, right? Like, you were still wrong in the end…” I couldn't hold my mouth before needling him.

This time he stopped abruptly and turned to me, making me smack my face into his chest.

"Girlfriend? First you accuse me of sexual harassment and now besides being a harasser you think I'm a traitor?”

“I didn't accuse you of anything! Except the girlfriend part. You and that red haired girl seemed to be fighting really bad, like boyfriends do,” I clarified.

“Redhead girl?” he seemed to search his memory for what I was referring to. “Nami? God forbid me dating that devil woman! She's not my girlfriend, and we were fighting because…”, he stopped mid-explanation. “This is none of your business, girl. But she's not my girlfriend,” he ended the pseudo-argument.

I nodded and went on my way.

“How long will you follow me? Now I can interpret that you're a deranged stalker”, he told me right after we turned down the same street, after walking close for a few meters.

“I'm not following you, my house is on this way”, I replied.

And that's how I found out that we lived in the same condominium.

Although I clearly remember the first two times we met, I can't say when exactly we started to change our cat-and-mouse relationship and elevate it to a more intimate one. Maybe it was when he fucked me for the first time in the laundry room in the building. I was taking my clothes out of the machine while he put his clothes in another one, and then we looked at each other and as if we had the same idea, he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me up to put me sitting on top of the machine he had just finished stuffing with his own clothes, putting it to work and taking me in a kiss while taking off my panties. When he entered me, I moaned loudly, but the sound was drowned out by the shrill noise of that old machine. Zoro confessed to me later that he chose precisely that one so my moans could not be heard. I think it was the most insane thing I did, because at any moment someone could come and catch us, but luckily for us that only happened after Zoro had cum on my thighs and taken me off that old thing. It was weird walking with my legs sticking together because of his cum, but I didn't have time to clean up, just lift my panties and straighten my skirt before passing the newcomer, who didn't seem to have noticed our presence.

After our first sex, we didn't get apart anymore. We couldn't be alone as we caught fire and had sex wherever we were.

As time went by, we calmed down and our meetings became more spaced, but our chemistry didn't extinguish even a little bit during these almost two years, on the contrary, it only earned us the beginning of dating. And we became more than just hookups, we became friends too, those who know about each other's lives and I got to know Nami, the red-haired friend he was fighting that night at the party. I came to discover that they could never be boyfriends, because she loved money and women.

Everything with Zoro was almost perfect. He was a good boyfriend, and even though we're two hotheads, we never fought. There are always dialogues in our relationship and this helps a lot to avoid unnecessary fights. Besides, sex is wonderful, everything just right, except for one small thing that bothers me. We combine a lot in bed, I always try to please him and give him pleasure at all times. I've lost count of how many blowjobs I gave him and how many times I let him cum in my mouth, but the problem is that he never even gave me oral sex. And that makes me a little frustrated and scared. Was the problem with me? I took good care of myself, but he always shifted position when I tried to get him down on me.

One day, while I watched him playing his favorite game, I stroked his hair.

“Babe?”, I called him.

“Hm?” he mutters, not moving an inch.

“Do I disgust you?” I asked bluntly.

"What? Where did you get this ideia?”, he turns abruptly to face me, doing something wrong in the game because soon there are some curses directed at him in the chat.

“It's just a question.” I shrugged.

“It can't be just a question. For you to ask me that, there's definitely a reason behind it,” he replied, no longer looking at the TV screen, and not realizing that he was being offended by the other players. Damn virgins.

“Nevermind…”, I hesitated, unable to let myself be affected by the comments, which weren't even for me. "Your game friends are very angry with you."

"Fuck them, the issue here is you.", he held my face with both hands, making me look at him. “Tell me what made you think about it,” he looks deep into my eyes, almost reading my soul and I immediately regret opening my mouth. But it was too late, lying was out of the question, because he knows very well when I lie, so I had no choice but to tell the truth.

“You never gave me an oral. So I deduced that the problem is with me”, I said at last and he let me go.

It was his turn to shift the focus to another corner.

“It's nothing to you, it's me who is the problem. I've never done that to any women, and in the movies I see them “squirt”, what if that happens?” He looked a little frustrated and embarrassed.

I got up from my seat and stopped standing in front of him, making him glare at me.

“You have to stop thinking real life is a big porn movie, Roronoa,” I said, putting my index finger on his forehead. “I really admire you knowing how to fuck without looking like a caveman”, I said that last sentence more to myself.

“Hey!” he heard and seemed offended. "It hurts, okay?"

“Sorry, but that is nothing but the truth”, I rolled my eyes.

Even though he didn't suck me when we had sex later, the seed of doubt was already planted in his head.

I know this, because days later he was more committed to making me cum. Before he seemed to care only about his pleasure, but after our conversation, he even put his fingers to work on my clit – which were presented by me –, as he moved in and out of me, until I came on his fingers. It felt good, but I wanted to feel his tongue down there, and wanted to see his head between my legs. I wanted so badly to squirm in pleasure beneath him as he sucked everything I had to offer him.

When the dream day finally arrived, all my thoughts turned opaque as I felt him hug me from behind and lean his body against mine as his lips found the skin of my neck.

“Do you know how hot you look wearing my shirt?” he asked huskily, pressing me closer to his body, making my ass fit into his crotch. And I already felt it was hard. "Even more so I know you're not wearing anything under it."

I couldn't hold back the moan as I felt his fingers travel up my waist until they reached my breasts under the fabric. He squeezed it first and then circled the nipple with his finger, making it hard. He knew how sensitive I was in that area. And to my delight, he lowered his other hand to between my legs, and slid it to find my sex, which was already starting to get wet.

When I was in his apartment, I liked to have just one piece of clothing. Walking around his house half-naked was one of the most satisfying things for me, because I knew that anytime we were going to get laid and being too undressed would get in the way of the process. So I opted to wear just a pair of panties or a T-shirt with nothing underneath, as was the case now.

He removed his hand from my body and pulled me away, but only to pick me up and take me to his bed, where he laid me down and leaned over me and started kissing me.

His kiss tasted like the whiskey he drank a few minutes ago. I ran my hands over his body and scratched him lightly on his back, inside his shirt. He ended the kiss and rolled off of me, but only to undress. I watched the scene intently, looking at each piece of skin that was revealed to me little by little. When he took off his underwear and his cock popped out, I felt my mouth water. He was there in front of me, completely naked.

I got rid of his t-shirt I was wearing and crawled until I was close to his body, took his hard member in my hands and started masturbating before putting it in my mouth. Unconsciously, I reared my hips up, and ran my tongue over the glans, tasting the pre-cum. Without waiting, I felt him lean over to smack my ass, and it made his cock almost hit my throat, making me gasp. I pulled it out of my mouth, gasping for air, but went back to sucking on it. When I relaxed, I put him in one piece and this time I got used to that intruder so deep, and I heard him grunt. He loved when I swallowed him like that, but before I could make him cum, he gently withdrew from my mouth and lay down on the bed, turning me to stand beside him.

He kissed me again and wrapped his hands around my waist and slid them to my ass, where he slapped my ass, making me moan into his mouth.

We made out until he was on top of me, making me feel his hard cock on my thigh as he kissed my neck and played with my nipples.

I was already throbbing with lust, and it got worse when he slid his fingers to my clit and touched his fingertip to that sensitive spot, making me arch into him. But he did nothing but tease me, and I wanted him to use his tongue this time to bring me to orgasm. For that reason, I forced his head down and he got the message, surprisingly trailing kisses down my body, but before he got there he stopped and returned the kisses to where they were before, leaving me frustrated.

I sighed in annoyance, and shifted our positions, getting on top of him. I positioned myself right on top of his cock, and I fit my pussy there, not to slide him inside, but to rub myself there. He liked my boldness a lot, but I abruptly left the place until I was positioned right in his mouth. I felt him startle under me, but it was too late because I was already sitting pretty well in his face, with my cunt snug in the place where I always wished it was. He showed no resistance, just ran the tip of his tongue over my clit and I closed my eyes, sighing.

At first, he was stuck and a little lost, but little by little he got used to it and now his whole tongue passed through my intimacy, sometimes sucking painfully. It was good for me and it was good for him too, because I felt him grip my thighs tightly, holding me in place as he penetrated me with his tongue. I saw stars. When he smeared the entire place and when my body showed signs of the first orgasm, nimbly and using a little force he took me off him and put me back on the bed, with my back to the mattress. I thought he had given up, but he again slid down my body and positioned himself between my legs, giving me that wonderful sight. Again he pressed his tongue against my clit.

Seeing him there, with his head buried in the place I'd always dreamed of, made a fire burn in my stomach, and my brain worked tirelessly on the new sensations his mouth was gaving me me.

And he looked very committed and thirsty. He was like someone who had gone days without even a drop of liquid and who had just found an inexhaustible source of pure water. And I was that source. And just the thought of having him thirsty for me was enough to give my boner more ammo and make my hips start working nimbly, looking for more contact. Zoro shaved every day, but there were already two that he didn't shave, so the growing hairs scraped the inside of my thighs when I moved my hips, leaving goose bumps.

His tongue explored every corner of my intimacy and his arms closed tightly around my legs as he brought one hand to one of my breasts and rested it there, squeezing every now and then as my body showed signs of orgasm.

He didn't let go of me when I came for the first time or when I screamed for the second. Instead, he circled my waist with his arms and held me immobile in place as he sipped every drop that dared escape from me. He showed no signs of satiating even when I scratched his shoulders or slapped him in the arms to get him to let go. In fact, it felt like it was just an extra boost for him when I was on the verge of madness, writhing in his mouth and thrashing around aimlessly for support and control of the spasms in my body.

He was both a sadist and a masochist at the same time, which is why I was so attracted to him.

When he released me, I was almost voiceless and completely shaky. I wouldn't be able to form an intelligible word, and his playful smile, which I saw blurred due to the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes, gave away his satisfaction at seeing me in that state.

When I finally composed myself and my heart stopped beating in my chest, pulse, and throat, I took a deep breath and stared at him. He was lying beside me, looking at me and running his hand down my face, lovingly.

“You look beautiful when you're coming”, was the first thing he said.

“You look handsome between my legs”, I returned the answer in the same tone.

He smiled and massaged his jaw, as if in pain.

“Too bad it takes so long to cum, my chin hurts”, he complained and I rolled my eyes.

“You didn't leave me after my first orgasm,” I accused. “For those who were afraid of giving me oral sex, you seemed to enjoy it a lot”, I continued, with a pout.

“I had no idea you were that tasty,” he said, smiling slightly. “Now you better get ready, because your taste has gone straight to the top of my favorite flavors”, he assured me, as he pulled me by the waist to glue my body to his.

I kissed his lips softly, and touched our foreheads, and he kissed me again, obscenely. It didn't take me long to be on my knees for him, determined to reward him for the multiple organs he gave me.

Seeing him from above, with his eyes closed and his expression filled with pure delight, made me want to feel his cock in the back of my throat to the point of gasping for air. But he refused to cum inside my mouth. He lifted me up and positioned me on all fours on the bed and placed the condom on his cock.

When he sank into me, I moaned loudly, too happy that my sex life with my boyfriend was perfect.

[proflyndo]

An Unexpected Tuesday

Chapter One

Tuesdays. Probably my least favorite day of the week. I know it’s typically “I hate Mondays”, but I like to be quirky. Tuesdays are just so boring, and they honestly don’t serve a purpose. Especially this Tuesday. I recently moved to Seoul. I’m from a small town, so this is quite the culture shock. And with nothing to do, I decided to just walk around. No better way to learn the city. The bustling vehicles, the tempting smells wafting through the air from the coffee shops and bakeries, and people passing by without a second glance toward me. It was actually the perfect environment for an introvert like me. I was one in the sea of many. I could move around freely. I could do as I pleased. I was about to step off the curb with the crowd when there was a hand on my shoulder.

“Excuse me. Could you please help me out?” The lady quickly spit out at me. She looked frazzled. 

“Umm, I’m not sure I can do you any service. Please excuse me.”

“I need someone to be my partner for a press conference. You just have to sit there. I’ll pay you.” She had this look in her eyes. It was a mix between begging, fear, and almost excitement. “It will be the easiest money you’ll ever make. Please just help me out.”

I recognized her as a major writer for a magazine. I knew she was legit, but did I really want to take time out of my day to play reporter? It’s a boring Tuesday. Live a little. Go do something. I thought to myself.

“Fine. I’ll help out. But I better be paid decently for this.” I was as firm as I could be without being rude.

“Great, thank you so much. You might know who I am, but I’m Park Yujin. You are?”

“L/N Y/N, pleasure to meet you.”

“Now that that is out of the way. Follow me. The conference starts in 15 minutes.”

I followed behind the click clack of her heels. I noticed what she was wearing, a skirt and blazer set with a nice silk shirt. I felt very underdressed to say the least. I was in chunky black boots, skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and an olive green bomber jacket on. I looked normal. I figured my outfit wasn’t a cause for concern, since she didn’t even mention it. 

It was a short walk to our destination. She checked us in, I was given a badge, and we sat down at the end of the fourth row. I swear I stuck out like a sore thumb, but I tried not to think about it. Ms. Park tried making small talk, but I was more interested in my surroundings, 

“Since you’re younger, I’m going to guess you know who BTS are. Am I correct?” Ms. Park asked while writing something down in her fancy notebook.

“Yes, I know them. You’d have to live under a rock to not know them.” She stopped writing. “I promise to not act like a fangirl. I’m here as a reporter.” I raised my eyebrows up and down, which made her giggle.

“I got lucky with picking you up off the street. You just have to sit here, nothing more nothing less. I bet you’ll love this experience nonetheless.” She went back to writing. I gave a little nod while looking around. I could feel my face getting warm. I was trying my best to not seem nervous yet excited. However, all that control tried to jump ship when the seven men walked on the stage behind the tables and microphones. This was going to be a long couple of hours, I figured. I put my brain on cruise and hoped for the best.

Ms. Park seemed eager to ask her questions and to hear the answers to others’ questions. Even though I was a fake, I still paid attention. I was able to listen to my favorite idol group and get to watch their actions. It was so surreal. Thank God I was picked off the street. As the conference came to a close, an announcement was made.

“BTS wanted to do something special for those of you who came today. They decided to allow one reporter a one-on-one, well I guess a one-on-seven, interview. They are very grateful for everyone taking time out of their busy lives to be here. We have randomly selected the reporter.” I was only half paying attention, but the shift in the room caused me to listen right as he said “Ms. L/N Y/N with _______ Newspaper. You have been selected.” I sat there, dazed and very much confused. Ms. Park nudged my arm.

“You got picked kid. You get a private interview with them. If this goes well, I’ll pay you even more.” I felt her slip something into my hand as she pushed me up out of my chair. “She’s right here. It is an honor for our reporter to be picked. Thank you so much.” With that, she shoved me out into the aisle, and I was being escorted by a staff member. I looked back at her, still confused, and all she did was give me a thumbs up. What the hell is going on? 

“Please follow me this way Ms. L/N.” The staff member walked me into a room that was away from the main hall. “BTS will be in here in a few minutes. Please make yourself comfortable.” Before I could get any clarification, the man was gone.

I stood there blinking. I finally looked down into my hand and saw Ms. Park’s business card. I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.

Me: Ms. Park, it’s L/N Y/N. What did you mean by private interview? I zoned out at the end.

Ms. Park: Ah, Ms. L/N, you should have paid attention. You were picked to interview all seven members. Please make this a good interview. I need that interview. It’ll help both of us out. Fighting!

I stared at my phone, still confused. I guess I’ll do my best. I looked around and saw eight chairs arranged in a circle. A table with water bottles and a few snacks, a few couches, and a coffee table with a polaroid camera. I walked over to look at the camera and saw that there were pictures as well. I didn’t want to touch them, but I for sure was going to look. There were pictures of each member by themselves, several duo pictures, and then a couple group photos. I let out a soft giggle, they’re so cute. I walked over to grab a bottle of water and peruse the food. I decided against eating anything, so I made my way toward the chairs. I sat down in the one facing the door, and I put my feet up on the little ottoman that was in the middle. Since the room wasn’t very interesting, I decided to take my phone out. It dinged right as I took it out.

Babe: Hey sweetheart, sorry I didn’t text you back earlier, I got busy. See you soon!

I dismissed the text, I’ll respond later. I was about to go back to Twitter when there was a knock at the door before it was opened. I stood up, pocketed my phone, and prepared myself to greet the boys. I was greeted by their manager first, and then the boys entered.

“Hello, I’m Ms. L/N. It is an honor to interview you.” I bowed toward them while they all bowed back. “I hope the press conference wasn’t too draining.” I smiled at them as they all came to take a seat around me. Jungkook sat on my left side, J-Hope was next to him, then Suga, and RM sat in the chair across from mine. Jin was next to RM, and it looked like V and Jimin were about to fight for the seat to my right, but Jimin beat him to it. Jin put his hand on V’s arm and lightly pulled him down into the chair. I left out a little air through my nose and smiled. Even now they can’t help but act like themselves, cute.

“I know introductions are not needed, but you guys are more than welcome to go around and tell me your names.” I looked at all of them and couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m Jungkook!”

“J-Hope.”

“Hi, I’m Suga.”

“I’m RM.”

“Jin.”

“Hello, I’m V.”

“And I’m Jimin.”

“Nice to meet you all. I’m excited for this one-on-seven interview.”

“Excuse me, Ms. L/N, you can call us by our names. No need to be so formal.” I looked at RM, or Namjoon I guess, and could see he wanted to be in a more relaxed setting. The press conference must have been harder than I imagined.

“Alrighty then, please call me Y/N.” I gave a quick nod and a smile to Namjoon. “I forgot my notebook, so I am going to record this on my phone. I hope that is okay.” I was pulling out my phone while talking, and I looked up to see their reactions. Some shook their heads, and some didn’t respond. I sat my phone on the ottoman and hit record.

“So, I would like this to be more of a conversation than an interview. I’m one for organic interactions. Please get comfy,” I put my feet on the ottoman, “and let’s get started!” With that, I clapped my hands like they were a slate board marking a new scene. I could tell a weight was lifted off the men in front of me. I couldn’t imagine the pressures of being the biggest boy band in the world. I let out a shaky breath. Regardless of me being a “reporter”, I was still nervous. I started to fidget with the hem of my shirt, when Jungkook reached over and grabbed my hand. Leaning over he whispered, “You’re going to do great,” and gave me his signature Kookie smile. I smiled back, and I figured he’d let go of my head, but I was wrong. I was a bit dazed but knew I needed to continue.

“I’ll introduce myself so we’re better acquainted. I am a new hire, so this is my first big job. I have been in music since I was a kid. Singing, playing piano and guitar, and constantly listening to so many types of music. I just moved to Seoul a few weeks ago, but I’m originally from a very small town. And lastly, I’m 22-years-old.” I gave them a smile, but they all looked shocked.

“You’re younger than me?” Jungkook blurted out, which caused the rest of the men to chuckle. “That means we’re all your oppas.” Shock didn’t leave his face.

“Yes, you are, but don’t worry, I won’t call you that.” I giggled at his relief. “Now, let’s get into the actual questions. What got all of you into music and/or dance?” 

As the interview went on, I asked them questions that related to them being BTS. I also wanted to ask them questions about themselves, hobbies outside of music, likes and dislikes, and the TMIs everyone is dying to know. I tried my best to make it feel like an interaction between friends, not an interview. At some point, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung had moved their chairs closer to me. Jungkook wasn’t holding my hand anymore, but the three youngest were very interested in me. 

“Ya, you guys are too close. I can’t even see Y/N anymore.” Jin lightly smacked Taehyung on the arm.

“Sorry hyung, we’ll move back.” Jimin said, almost falling out of his chair while trying to move it back to its original spot. I looked at my watch and noticed that the interview had almost gone on for two hours.

“I hate to say this, but I think I have taken too much of your time. It’s almost been two hours. I’m sure there are other responsibilities that you guys need to attend to. It was an honor and a pleasure to be able to interview you guys.” I got up and bowed to them all. They matched my actions. The door opened, and their manager stepped in. “Thank you for your time.” I stopped the audio recording. Just as I was about to put my phone up, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin approached me.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, would you be willing to give us your number? We’d like to keep in touch.”  Jungkook asked while seeming very shy. The other two seemed like moral support.

“Uh, sure. No problem at all.” Jungkook and I swapped phones and created new contacts.

“We should start a group chat. That’ll be fun.” Taehyung nudged the other two.

“Yes, we should!” Jimin said and Jungkook nodded.

“That’s fine with me.” I let out a laugh and the boys smiled at me. Namjoon then came up beside me.

“If you guys want to go get changed, Manager said our stuff was ready.” The three boys waved as they walked away. I couldn’t help myself and waved back. “Thank you for the interview today. It was honestly the most relaxing one we’ve ever had. I appreciate that.” He was looking directly at me. There was something different with this interaction. 

“It was my pleasure. I’m glad I achieved my goal in making this organic. Thank you once again.” He smiled at my statement, and all I could focus on was the dimples. I will never get tired of seeing those. 

“Well, we must get going. We hope to see you soon. Until then.” He bowed a little toward me and I toward him. With that, they were all out of the room. I was alone. I slumped back into my chair. Did that really just happen? I was so trapped in my thoughts that I almost missed the stream of notifications on my phone. It was from the group chat that the boys had set up. I couldn’t control the smile that appeared. I saved their numbers as they texted the group. Then there was a text from Ms. Park.

Ms. Park: How was the interview?

Me: It was great. I recorded the interview since I didn’t have a notepad. I’ll make a transcript of it and send it to you.

Ms. Park: That’s great. Just send it to the email on the business card.

Me: Will do.

As I was about to put my phone up, I got another text message.

Babe: Hey doll, let’s meet this evening. I have time. See you around 7?

Me: Hey you, I’ve been busy today too, but meeting up sounds great. See you then! 

I put my phone back in my pocket, left the building, and walked home to my apartment.

[swiggitswooggit]

Eat my love

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

This is my first time ever putting out a fic I’ve written lol

Cw: none, just fluff and gei shit

Although Amber had to abide by a routine for most of the things in her life -- school and the bakery being some of those -- she was far from a person controlled by it. She much preferred her days with a little bit of chaos sprinkled throughout, as she thought it best to be kept on her toes. But Amber is anything if not diligent so she stuck to her routine from the moment she woke up to the time she went to sleep, which usually ended up being rather late -- something her friends couldn’t manage to wrap their heads around given how energetic she was in the morning.

It was this diligence that made her such a valuable employee at the bakery she worked at, and why she chose to take the morning shifts, since she could get out all of that energy that had built up overnight.

The way the light filtered through the large, glass windows; the warm, inviting atmosphere that enveloped you the minute you stepped through those doors; the large display cases showing off the tantalizing sweets carried within; there wasn’t a thing Amber didn’t love about the bakery, including the arduous work that it was to open everyday. Everyday, she unlocked the door and propped it open using a flower pot, then she would head to the back to prep the specialty pastries. 

Although the bakery was known for its more traditional doughy delights -- various breads, muffins, and cookies being among the customer favorites -- Amber’s heart and stomach would forever lie with the more unconventional sweet and savory options: pineapple roast pork buns, red bean buns and taiyaki, dango. The flavors just worked, and although it made her a little sad that these items weren’t as popular among customers, that just meant that at the end of the day there was more for her.

‘Don’t worry, you beautiful buns, I love you even if no one else can realize how bangin you are’ humming to herself softly, Amber arranged the trays of pastries, opened the register, and waited for the morning crowd to flow in.

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

“Thank you, have a nice day!” smiling brightly, Amber thanked the customer as they walked out the door, eyes drifting to the clock above the entrance.

The chime of the bells rang in Amber’s ears and her eyes shot up to see a sharply dressed woman walk into the bakery, eyes trained on the phone in her hand. She was rather tall and there was something about the way she carried herself that made her seem icy and unapproachable. Surprisingly, she didn’t seem stiff or rigid like Amber had expected, but rather she walked with a lightness that was characteristic of dancers. Was she a dancer? No, that couldn’t be -- she was dressed as a businesswoman, after all. Maybe she took dance classes when she was younger and that was why she was so light on her feet. What type of dance did she study? Would she answer if Amber asked-

“... do you recommend?”

“H-huh? I’m sorry, what were you saying?” God, this was embarrassing. Cheeks heating up, stumbling over her words, all Amber could feel was pure mortification at having zoned out in front of a customer.

A delicate eyebrow raised before she responded, “What do you recommend?”

“Oh, well, personally I really love these guys,” she gestured to the far end of the display case. “They’re pink peppercorn madeleines! People are put off by them ‘cuz of the peppercorns, but the taste isn’t super overwhelming and it’s a little fruitier!”

“Can I try one?”

“Yes, of course.” Picking up a madeleine with a pair of tongs, Amber placed it on a napkin and passed it over the counter to the office lady. Usually, she didn’t stress too much about whether or not customers liked the sweets; ideally, everyone would try the pastries and fall so in love they’d become dedicated customers from that point forward, but Amber understood how everyone had differing tastes. Despite this, Amber couldn’t help her nerves as she watched the office lady raise the madeleine to her lips.

Please, please, please like it 

Letting out a low hum of satisfaction, a small smile spread across the office lady’s face, “I’ll take five of these.”

“Okay, five madeleines it is then, will that be all?”

“Yes, that will be all.” Already digging through her purse, the office lady pulled out an exorbitant amount of cash and exchanged it for the paper bag filled with madeleines, turning on her heel towards the door.

Amber scrambled with the wad of cash calling out after her, “W-wait! This is way too much, don’t you want your change?” At that she stopped and turned back to look at the girl behind the counter, frazzled from the bizarreness of the exchange.

“What, you let me try out the product and expect me not to pay for it? What type of person do you take me for? I’ll remember this.” Despite the threatening nature of her words, they carried no malice, only a light teasing tone that had Amber’s head feeling fuzzy.

“Oh, well, thank you! Have a nice day!” She called out after the office lady, but she had already crossed the threshold from the bakery into the street and was walking further and further away.

Please come back 

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

The madeleines must’ve beaten out all the other bakeries and coffee shops in the area, because she came back everyday after that, always being early enough to beat the morning crowd, always keeping conversation short and to the point. Amber didn’t mind too much, not everyone is a morning person, she gets it. Still, it would be nice if she could get to know the only other regular who appreciated the same pastries she loved so much.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Unlike with other customers, Amber didn’t bother to watch the office lady leave, she already knew she wouldn’t get a response and she was fine with giving the office lady her space. Already focused on her next task, she failed to notice how the sound of steps had stopped for a moment.

“You too.” Amber’s head shot up just as office lady walked out the door with her matcha croissant, mouth agape. Seconds passed before her words finally sank in, and when they did Amber felt pure joy erupt through her; pumping her fists, tapping her feet, and hopping around she let out an ecstatic “yes” at having finally made progress.

“Um, excuse me? Am I interrupting something?” Oh God, the embarrassment. This was almost as bad as when she’d completely zoned out in front of the office lady, during their first meeting. Of course, she hadn’t seen Amber act like a complete fool, but she couldn’t decide which was worse: completely ignoring what a customer is saying or acting like you’re on crack in front of them. Wait, customer, the customer!

“Oh, no, no, no, not all! Sorry about that, anyways, what can I get for you?”

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

  Things developed more and more from there; it seemed like office lady was finally comfortable enough to start making actual conversation, although Amber still didn’t know her name yet. That was fine though, and she was happy with just getting to know the enigmatic woman. Among some of the first things she learned were that she came from a wealthy family, but she was estranged from them now; she had taken dance classes as a child -- flamenco and tango --  and still danced in her free time; she something something. The more her icy exterior melted away, the more Amber was drawn to her, and the thing she looked forward to the most when opening the bakery in the morning.

The bell above the door chimed, signalling the entrance of a customer, “Good morning, what can I get for you- oh, hi! What will it be today? Oh, there are these pineapple roast pork buns that we have: so good!” 

“I’ll take two of those, then.” She was straight to the point as usual, but there was a warmth in her tone that hadn’t been there during the first times she visited the bakery.

Well, this was a surprise. She usually asked to try anything before buying, “Are you sure you don’t want a sample before buying?”

“No, your recommendations haven’t ever been bad so I trust you.” There it was again; that warm tone that had Amber’s stomach doing backflips.

“O-oh, really?! Well, that’s a surprise,” stumbling over her words, Amber fought to keep down the blush rising on her cheeks. Her efforts were in vain, if the gleam in office lady’s eye as she looked her over was anything to go by.

“Are you implying that I’m a bad judge of character?”

“No, no, not at all,” scrambling with the tongs, and placing the two buns inside a paper bag, Amber averted her eyes. “Well, here are your buns, Miss. Enjoy them, and have a nice day!”

She took the bag, but she didn’t move from her spot on the other side of the counter, she simply looked at Amber, thinking. Finally, she said “Eula, my name is Eula. Well then, have a nice day.”

‘Eula’ Amber thought, as she watched the newly named woman walk out of the bakery.

“Eula.” She said it out loud this time, and found that she liked how it sounded. She’d have to say her name more often, and introduce herself properly the next time Eula came in for her morning sweets.

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

Unfortunately, it would be quite some time before Amber next saw Eula. The next day came and went, and there was no sign that she was coming. This continued on for the rest of the week, and with each day that passed the crushing anxiety that she had done or said something wrong grew and grew. The weekend came, and while usually Amber would be ecstatic at having the opportunity to take a break from school, her mind couldn’t help but drift over to thoughts of Eula and what she could be doing.

‘I hope she hasn’t found another bakery.’ At that thought she sank deeper into the couch she was curled up in, and furrowed her brows as her mouth formed a pout. ‘I bet their buns aren’t as good as ours, and they probably don’t even have pink peppercorn madeleines! You know what, they probably don’t even know what matcha is!’

“Amber!”

“H-huh, what’d I miss?” Knocked out of her thoughts by her friend’s call of her name, she looked up to find her friends all staring at her; some with expressions of varying degrees of concern, others with pure amusement in their eyes. She quickly apologized and paid attention to the conversation at hand, but her thoughts always drifted back to Eula

‘I really hope she hasn’t found another bakery.’

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

When the chime of the bell rang out, Amber quickly fixed her expression and greeted the customer. “Good morning, what can I get for you today…”  her words died off when she saw who exactly had walked into the bakery.

Standing there, looking as stunning as she had when they had first met, was Eula.

“Oh, hey, what can I get for you?” As Amber spoke, the anxiety and longing she had been feeling all of last week and over the weekend came back tenfold, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Did I do something wrong? Or did I make you uncomfortable or angry?”

It was clear from her expression that Eula was taken aback by the question, and for the first time, she looked unsure of herself, nervous even. She took a breath and then, “Yes, actually, I’m quite upset with you.” With those words, Amber’s face collapsed, and if Eula noticed she didn’t address it, and instead continued talking. “First of all, there was you ignoring me when we first met,” she raised her hand, ticking off Amber’s offenses as she spoke, “then, you thought I was some type of freeloader, and didn’t expect me to pay for that sample you gave me. And finally,” as she listed the final offense a small grin spread across her face, “you implied that I was a bad judge of character when I said I trusted you.”

“Now then Miss, how do you expect to pay me back for all your wrongs against me?”

If this had been early on in their pseudo-relationship, Amber would have been prepared for the worst. She would’ve gotten on her knees and begged for mercy, but now given how she had gotten to know Eula, all she could hear was the teasing lilt in her voice that made her head feel all fuzzy. Maybe it was the way her head was all clouded, or maybe it was her desperation to have something more with Ella, so she took a chance and said, “I have an idea, actually, so hear me out. There’s this restaurant nearby, they have this amazing honey roast. If you’re free this weekend, then maybe, we could go together? I’ll be paying, of course!”

“It’s a date, then, miss…”

“Oh, Amber! It’s Amber.” Her face had to have been on fire by now, and she couldn’t contain the bright smile that split her face. She calmed down a little, when Eula held out her phone, asking for her number, heart beating out of her chest all the while. When Eula’s phone was back in her hand, she gave Amber a smile that could have almost been shy if it wasn’t for the light in her eyes. They then said their goodbyes, and Eula left for work.

‘Wow’ Amber thought, collapsed against the counter now. Her eyes drifted over to the far end of the display case, where the pink peppercorn madeleines were, and she softly smiled.

[fenheart87]

The Dress

For @bloody-no-kissu, you're art is always amazing and inspirational! I love you bloody!

It was a rare day that Marinette was fully rested, had no events to attend and the bakery wasn't busy enough for her parents to ask for her help. Feeling inspired but not able to pick up a recent project without being hypercritical of her work, the young designer decided picking up something different might help. Grabbing a blue folder with various doodles and stickers, she spread the sketches one by one on her desk.

"Oh, these look great!" Tikki chimed, flying closer to examine the handwritten notes.

"I know but I can't choose! I want to do them all, eventually but where do I start?" Marinette huffed, eyeing the designs with a playful pout.

"Hm, why not choose randomly? You could number the designs and put matching numbers on slips of paper to pick the one to start with!"

"Tikki, that's a great idea!" Marinette cupped the floating ladybug gently in her hands and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before scribbling on a scratch paper. Tearing the numbers apart, she put them in a hat and let Tikki do the honors.

"Here we go!" Tikki dropped in the hat and shook the pieces around before flying back out with one piece between her paws. Twirling in excitement, she opened the paper and held it up like a sign. "Lucky number four!"

"Okay so four is," the designer stacked the extra papers and pulled out the fourth design page, "this one. Huh, I don't have one color scheme for this, I made two. Oh wait, this started out as a design for Rose but I made something else for her. I can finish this dress for me though, time to go fabric shopping!"

"Oh can you get some crushed velvet? It makes a wonderful bed." Tikki asked, hovering by the trapdoor as her holder ran around the room to gather her things.

"Sure! Any color requests?" Marinette paused to let the kwami zip into her purse, handing Tikki the list.

"Blue or green, maybe aquamarine!" They shared a giggle before the designer made her way downstairs to let her parents know about her trip into town.

"Maman, Papa, I'm going to the fabric shop. I've got so much creativity I feel like I'm going to explode!"

"Well we don't want that, then we couldn't possibly have family bear hugs!" Tom shouted, scooping up his wife and daughter who giggled and snuggled in for the hug. "Please be safe and call if you need help or eat somewhere else for lunch."

"Of course Papa!" Marinette withdrew from the hug and grabbed her personalized tote bag that she used for trips like these. With one last wave goodbye, she set off to her favorite shop. A ten minute bus ride and quick shortcut through the plaza, she arrived in front of The Special Thread. The bell rang merrily as the younger design held the door open for an elderly lady before beelining towards the crushed velvets. It was the backrest left corner and after a glance around, Marinette popped open her purse to let Tikki out to be able to help pick out the right color.

"Okay here are all the cool colors of the crushed velvet and then here’s the penne velvet too. What did I need and who did I need it for? Oh wait, the list!” Marinette knew the shop owner and many of the regular customers were used to the young designer talking to herself as they tended to indulge in the habit as well. Actually checking the list after fighting the urge to ruffle through the soft velvets, “I need a burgundy color to accent Marc’s and a peachy tone for Nathaniel, more princess tulle for Rose and some black lace for Juleka… Oh that’s perfect!”

“Marinette, I like both of these colors but can't choose…” Tikki chimed, respectfully waiting until Marinette’s attention was back from her creative mindset.

“It’s on sale, why not get both and I can make a matching pillow or something? I have a coupon too and those colors are gorgeous, the blue reminds me of Luka.” She may have not noticed the dopey grin on her face as she grabbed the selected velvets and moved to another fabric wall  but Tikki could see it clearly and cheered internally. “Let’s get a couple yards of each and then I saw the perfect shades for Marc and Nathaniel but Ms. Cribler might have more in the back so I can get a little extra, just to be on the safe side.”

“Hello, Marinette, you looked especially inspired.” The shop owner smiled as she spotted Marinette, sorting through some bolts of fabrics to be put away from previous customers. Today she was sporting her favorite cardigan, the plum on bottom faded into lilac near the collar and the different embroidered designs and patches were still like new and matched her skirt that had vines and flowers blooming all over in a field of wildflowers. The addition of several animals made Marinette smile, it was the elder woman’s way of supporting the superheroes that protect their fair city.

“Hello Ms. Cribler, I am feeling very inspired and had to even get creative in choosing what to make next! How has the shop been today, need me to return anything? I’m passing through the solids and plundering the lace next.” The young designer placed her chosen bolts of fabric on the counter, eyeing the rather large pile that was being sorted.

“Oh things have been busy, it seems the creativity is floating in the air! I can hold these until you’re ready of course, if you can run this pile,” Ms. Cribler patted a pile with about ten bolts of various creams and browns, “they need to be put away. I have gotten everything I need from those. Is there anything in particular I can check the back for?”

“Ah yes, I need some more of this burgundy shade and if you have more peach colors, something more pale orange and less pink peach color that would be perfect. I’ll take these with me and see what I can find in the lace bolts.” Marinette picked up the pile with ease and marched carefully to the proper section and began putting them away. Tikki joined her, zipping back and forth to help quickly find the right spots she needed. Once those were completely put away, the duo weaved through the aisles and found the lace bolts. With a soft hum, the young designer pulled several options down. Marinette set them down on the return cart that was nearby, carefully unrolling them just enough to see a clear picture of the lace.

“What part of the dress is going to be lace?” The kwami inquired, floating at the top of the pink bag.

“Mid back up to my shoulders, just along the back side.”

“Oh, then this one would be so pretty!” Tikki flew up and showed off her choice, wrapping it around her tiny body like a toga.

“Super stylish Tikki!” Marinette giggled and returned the other options back to their proper places. Picking up the one she wanted to purchase and making sure Tikki was in her bag once more, she weaved her way back to the solids for another look and didn’t have anything that spoke to her. Continuing on, Marinette returned to the front cutting table where Ms. Cribel was helping out a familiar face but not a familiar face to see in the shop. Tikki giggled and ducked completely out of sight, closing the clasp of the purse.

“Found the lace alright Marinette?”

“Yes ma’am, take you time Luka, I still have to check out these other colors.” The girl smiled brighter as the other customer turned around, his typical and slightly goofy Luka smile in place.

“Hey Marinette, look like you have quite the haul.” Luka teased, shifting to talk to her.

“Yeah, I just had this moment of inspiration but now that I think about it the dress I’m making would be ideal first date material… I could tweak it for Rose and embellish it a bit for an anniversary vibe…”

“Is the dress for you?”

“Yeah it was originally, I just don’t think I’m going to have a date to wear it for soon.” Marinette scrunched her nose slightly, it felt weird to talk about dating in front of Ms. Cribel. Finding a salmon color that would be fantastic, she moved the bolt to her purchase pile and scooted it closer to the register where Luka had a thoughtful frown on his face.

“Well why don’t you change that? Isn’t the dance coming up?”

“Yeah, in a couple months.” The designer giggled as a light pink dusted his cheeks, sometimes she wished she liked Luka first. That thought struck her like lightning and decided right then and there she was going to be true to herself and no longer be pressured by the Girl Squad for her change of heart. “Hey Luka, are you, uh well, are you busy later? The weather is really nice and Maman made the best dumplings and the park doesn’t have a big photoshoot or news report or meeting going on today…”

“Yea- no, I mean no but I mean yes.” Luka clenched his jaw while taking a deep breath to calm down, eyes wide with hope before continuing, “I have no plans unless you wanna have plans later?”

“Yeah, it’s a date… I just have to finish my dress first and I can text you?”

“Yeah, anytime. Ever. Yes.” The musician clench his jaw again, making Marinette laugh in sheer joy. He was just as nervous as her but they would work it out on their date.

“Okay, well I think you’re good to go and I still need my materials cut. Uh did you- nevermind.”

“Can I walk you home? I can carry some of your stuff, these are good for other things than playing guitar.” Luka playfully flexed his arm, seeming to forget he had his jacket on and she couldn't see his muscles.

“Oh you will and you had better let him or you’re banned from my shop.”

“What? Ms. Cribel-”

“Marinette, you have a boyfriend now. Call me Ana as a thank you for giving you a discount to celebrate. Now, how many of what do you need today dear? You need to hurry and get home!” The shop owner punctuated her words with a few snips of her scissors, reaching for the lace first.

“Ah, the lace I need four yards, six of the salmon and burgundy and since the velvet is half off..” Marinette dropped into thought and with a glance at the boy beside her made a decision, “let’s do ten of each. And my special order too, if you have it in.”

“I sure do! Let me finish this right up and I’ll grab it for you.” Ana swiftly unfolded the bolts and made precise, clean and quick cuts, working through the small stack in under a minute. The musician seemed a bit shocked but Marinette knew she could move faster and still have the same pinpoint accuracy. Folding all the cut lengths and wrapping the bolts once more to set them aside, the shop keeper tucked the purchases into a bag and threw in some extra thread. Leaning down to reach under the counter, she put another bag that had a receipt attached onto the counter as well.

“Did you have everything?” The young designer asked, rolling and tucking that big into the bigger one.

“Of course! You are my favorite customer, anytime you call I make sure I have everything or get it delivered before you show up. It brings me joy that you create so many beautiful things when these hands are not quite steady enough anymore, it makes me happy to see you thrive.” The younger was touched and the awe showed in her face, causing the older woman to smile.

“She is pretty amazing.” Luka’s soft voice drew their attention, Marinette blushing while Ana had a knowing smile.

“Total today is one week of fresh croissants and details of today’s date.”

“What? No, i couldn’t possibly take all this for free-”

“Marinette. I am trading you, your parents food and you story for my measly fabrics. I will simply kick you out of my shop if you refuse.”

“Okay but two weeks at least and I can come help you put things away.”

“Deal, now go finish your dress and knock his socks off!” Ana winked playfully, both teens were blushing as they left.

“She isn’t usually like that but thank you for helping me.” Marinette grinned shyly, Luka had taken the bag of fabrics before she could and left no room for protest.

“Seems like she knows you well. And of course Marinette,” the soft way he spoke her name was going to give her heart problems if it kept skipping every time he said it, “anything to spend more time with a beautiful girl.”

The girl in question just blushed and ignored him, not that Luka seemed to mind as he escorted her home in silence. It was a comfortable and breathable bubble they were in and not even when he had to catch her when she tripped boarding the bus that would take them to her house. In a smooth and thoughtful move, Luka managed to hold her hand without her noticing until the end of the bus ride, only smiling in his sweet way at her blush.

“Well thank you for walking me home, now I can finish the last piece and then we can go on our date.”

"Yeah, no problem. Now I know where to pick you up too." He grinned crookedly, her blushing was too cute.

"Yeah now you know… Um, I haven’t done this before and I know you’ve been there for you through a lot and i appreciate it so much but like I don"t want you to think I'm going on this date as like a rebound or something stupid to deal with Adrien when its not.”

“Marinette.” Luka met her eyes dead on, a growing smile on his lips. “You have never and would never lead anyone on like that. I have always respected your feelings, even when you decided to gift them to someone other than me. My feelings for you haven't changed at all, you’re still the song in my head.” This boy was too much for Marinette, she suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and Luka calmly looped around her and gently guided her into movement again with a gentle press of a hand.

“You are something else.”

“A good something else?”

“Depends how nice our date is later!” With that teasing remark, Marinette used the last of her courage to press a kiss on Luka’s cheek before dashing inside and up to her room. Carefully the designer set down her purchases on her desk before jumping up and down and squealing in happiness.

“Great job Marinette!” Tikki giggled and flew in a few loops to show her excitement as well.

“Oh my gosh, Maman! I need your help, if you’re not busy!” Marinette stumbled a bit on her way down but caught herself before she fell. She knew this would be one of her best creations yet.

[atsukashii]

❝chance encounter❞ // k. takami

SYNOPSIS: ➛ bickering with Japans number 2 hero about ice cream flavours in a supermarket wasn’t how you expected to spend your Friday night

» CHARACTER PAIRING: keigo takami/hawks x reader

» WORD COUNT: 2.9K

» GENRE: normal?

» WARNINGS: swearing & fluff and just crack really

« masterlist || ao3 »

You had been craving mint chocolate ice cream literally all day. But then again, craving anything with exceedingly high levels of sugar and crap-loads of chocolate wasn’t anything new recently. In times like these, owning your own bakery was both the best decision you’ve ever made, and a huge mistake. Considering you had been up since three am baking away in the kitchen of your cafe and had snacked on basically one of every sweet thing that came out of the oven and anything you had in the display cabinet, if you kept this up you’d have to get a gym membership. But right now, you wanted mint chocolate ice cream. You look down at your stomach and for a moment, the thought of eating healthily crosses your mind. The thought is, however, instantly pushed out by the idea of you, on your couch, in your pj’s, with a pint of mint chocolate ice-cream, watching TV and de-stressing about the absolutely crappy day you had. That sounds way better. 

Walking straight down the candy aisle of the supermarket, you don't even bother glancing at your basket as you toss in chocolates, chips, soft drinks, and any unhealthy food you can physically get your hands on. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an old lady coming towards you with a trolley, who looks up from her list, and eyes your basket with disdain. 

Cut me some slack, you want to snap at her, I’m heartbroken and pissed off! 

You ignore the dirty look she gives you, and snatch a bottle of Coke off the shelf. You were very much aware that you currently looked like you had been digging through garbage all day. Your clothes - even though you wore an apron - no doubt have flour on them, your hair looks like a rat made its home on your head, and your eyes dry and itchy from crying. You knew you looked like a mess, you have just surpassed the threshold of actually caring about your appearance. Like your ex didn’t care about showing up at your shop with his new thing after dumping me only two weeks ago… 

The second your friend and co-owner of the cafe saw him in the store, they kicked him out, wielding the broom like a weapon. You had wished that they smacked him in the face with it, but fearing assault charges - they didn’t. He didn’t leave however, until after he had flaunted his new relationship in your face. You had thankfully moved on past the whole, ‘why’ stage of the breakup, and came to the conclusion it was purely because he was a trash human being.  However, to say that it didn’t hurt seeing him holding another girl’s hand and acting like he used to do with you, with someone else - well that would be a lie. It had been two weeks after all, and considering you had been together for two years - it felt as if those 24 months had meant nothing to him. 

So now, you wanted to drown your pain in chocolates, and mint chocolate ice cream and no one was going to stand in your way.

You walk over to the freezer section of the store with confidence in your step, suddenly excited to get home and start bingeing the romance section on Netflix. That enthusiasm quickly dies as you reach for the handle of the freezer, your eyes locking onto the empty row where your favorite ice cream flavor always sat. You’re joking… You blinked at the glass as if trying to force the food into being before you. 

There. Is. None. Left.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now,” you groan. Of all days for there to be a shortage, it had to be today. You look down at your basket of Oreos, pocky’s, soft drink, chips, and everything else you had craved the second you saw it on the shelves. I’d trade it all for ice cream though… Resting your head on the cold glass of the freezer, you let out a groan of frustration. This was just the topping to an already crappy day. It was ironic when people say not to cry over spilled milk - and here you were wanting to cry over ice cream.

“Tough day?” A voice startles you away from the fridge. Following the sound, your head snaps to your left where your eyes immediately meet a golden pair that have your lungs spluttering and frantically, trying to figure out how the heck to breathe. Okay, he’s attractive. Like really attractive. His golden eyes are practically glowing at you with amusement, his hair looking like liquid gold - and super soft. You kinda want to touch it. In washed-out black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a denim jacket stopping the cold from the open freezers, he looks too attractive to be real. But then your eyes lock onto the red wings, peeking from behind his shoulders and you know who he is in an instant. The question though, was why the heck the number two pro hero Hawks was even currently talking to you right now. Realizing you hadn’t answered him yet, and instead, were just checking him out instead for god knows how long, you clear your throat and reply.

“Tough week.” You correct, pulling yourself together before looking down at your basket again, hoping it doesn’t look as pathetic as the rest of you. “And to top it off, there’s none of my favourite ice cream left.” Letting out a groan, you shift on your feet. You don’t know why you just said that maybe you didn’t want the attractive blonde hero to go just yet. 

With an over-dramatic wince, Hawks leans his shoulder against the glass, as chilled out as the food inside the freezer. “Ouch, I know that feeling. That’s true betrayal,” he says, his eyes playful. It brings a small smile to your lips, and he takes that as an opportunity to stick out his hand to you. “Keigo Takami,” Hawks introduces himself as if you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he doesn’t think you would know… With a friendly smile and butterflies flying frantically inside your stomach, you shake his hand.

“Y/n Y/l/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you reply, trying not to think about how big his hand is compared to your own. God, was there flour on your hands right now? You prayed you had managed to wash it all off fully and that you didn’t suddenly look as run-down as you thought you did. Quickly -but not too fast to make him think you didn’t want to touch him- you drop the handshake and wipe your hands as inconspicuously as you can, on your jeans. 

“Beautiful name,” he glances at the empty ice-cream shelf. “But a girl with questionable choices in ice cream flavours.” You gape at Keigo in utter shock. Oh, he did not just say that.

“You did not just say that.” You repeat out loud. 

“I’m afraid so.” He answers, one hand in his pocket the other holding his basket, and a care-free smile covering his lips. “Who likes mint choc anyways?” For a moment you sputter for a response at this blatant ridicule against the best ice-cream flavour to ever exist. You will happily fight anyone on that, including the number two pro hero in Japan.

“Intelligent people, that’s who.” You argue back. “I bet you’re the kind of person whose favourite is vanilla.” His golden eyebrows shoot up at your words. 

“What’s wrong with good old fashioned vanilla Y/n?” Your name slips off his tongue like pure honey and it would normally send shivers down your spine. No, you will not look past this obvious disrespect against your ice cream preferences, not even for hot guys. No, you will not.

“It’s the most boring flavour to ever exist.”

“And mint choc isn’t?” He asks like it's a loaded question. Shaking your head at both his uneducated taste buds and this whole conversation, it begins to dawn on you that you’re smiling. When was the last time you smiled a lot recently? You question yourself, trying to wind back through your hazy memories of the past two weeks - and coming up with nothing.

“Mint chocolate is the best. You should tell your taste buds that what the ice-cream they think they enjoy is crappy ice-cream.” and Hawks is grinning at you, it’s a smile that is contagious, and has your own growing bigger with every passing word. 

“I’ll be sure to let them know.” God this whole conversation was one of the weirdest you had ever had in your life. And the fact that you had it with a pro hero, and Hawks for that matter...that just made it thirty times more strange. Looking back to the freezer, you decide you still want ice cream and settle for strawberry and cream, which earns a look from hawks as you put it in your basket. 

“Shut up,” you defend, fake glaring at the blonde. Holding his hands up feigning innocence, Keigo shrugs at you.

“I didn’t say anything sweet-cheeks.” Your cheeks in question flush hotly at the term, and you quickly fiddle with the handle of your basket, giving you something to do so you don’t stand there looking like a complete idiot at his blatant flirting. 

“But if you’re going to question my taste buds, then yours must be just as bad. Because last time I checked, Wagon Wheels were still way better than Oreo's.” His eyes meet yours, delight swirling inside his liquid golden irises and you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out your lips, shaking your head slightly.

“Okay, you’re definitely crazy.”

“Only a little bit,” Keigo smirks before his smile falls at the contents of your basket. You square your shoulders, knowing that there’s a chance that he might give you shit for its contents like that old lady from before. But the words that do come from his mouth surprise you.

“Was that the last KitKat?” Immediately, you look at the red packaging of the chocolate block inside your basket, and then back to the pro hero who is now gazing at it like it's made of diamonds. Hawks look’s like you imagine you had when you’d grabbed it off the shelf, seeing that it was the last one and deciding that it had to be some sort of sign that things were looking up for you. That was, of course, before you had seen the travesty of the empty mint chocolate shelf of the supermarket freezer. 

“I’ll trade you.” Keigo suddenly says, making you eye the man. “I’ll trade you the KitKat for this,” he finishes, reaching into his basket and… pulls out a fucking tub of choc mint ice cream. Are you kidding me??

“You’re joking.” Staring at him, at the sheepish smile across his face, you shake your head.

“Afraid not.” He tilts his head at you. “That is unless you don’t want it…” going to lower the tub back into his basket, a noise comes out of your throat that has him smirking again. Embarrassment flooding your features, you shift slightly and glare at the hero.

“I thought you didn’t like that flavour?” You point out, wanting to know what the hell was going on. 

“Oh no I do - it's one of my favourites. I just needed a reason to keep on talking to you,” Keigo admits unashamedly as you feel your cheeks warm again. If I was ever questioning if he was hitting on me…

“Oh,” is all you can manage to get out before your brain begins to catch up with the world again. “Well, in that case, I’ll trade.” Agreeing, you pass him the chocolate block and he gives you the tub of ice cream, your hand brushes him and you try not to act like a crazy person about how attracted to him you are.

“Thank you,” you try to say but it comes out as a slight whisper. His mouth morphs into a cocky smile, which just makes you flush even more.

“No, thank you y/n” he says, shaking the Kit-kat for emphasis in his hand. “They’re the best chocolate to ever exist.”

“Finally we agree on something,” You laugh, finally turning you back on the freezer and begin to walk backward, away from the hero. When he notices you moving from him, with every step away from that you make, he takes one forward, following you through the store.

“No, we agreed on the ice-cream too,” he beams.

“That’s right because really, you were just being an ass and hiding that fact from me.” You sass back, spinning around so you can see where you’re going.

“In order to keep talking to you, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.” He says, hurrying forward until you are walking side by side down a different aisle, moving slowly towards the checkout. Your footsteps are both slow and leisurely as if neither of you wants to reach the check out just yet. “But it worked, didn’t it? So I’d say it was worth your glare.” You turn that ‘glare’ back on him and raise an eyebrow at his antics. 

“You could have said something else you know.”

“Such as?” He asks, genuinely curious. You weren’t an intimidating person, so you weren’t sure as to why a guy such as Hawks would be wary of approaching you. Especially when the reality is that those roles are definitely reversed. Was your resting bitch face that bad?

“You could have said, ‘Hey, I think you’re cute. Can I have your number?” Rolling his eyes at your words, disbelievingly. 

“You’re telling me that line would work on someone like you?” Unsure if that was a compliment or not, you stop in the middle of the aisle causing him to stop next to you. You look into his eyes, trying to judge where his mind is but he’s hard to read. The only thing you knew, was that his smile seemed genuine and very amused by you. That was good enough for you.

“Try me.” You test, confidence coming up from who knows where. With raised eyebrows and calling your bluff, Hawks smirks at you. 

“Hey y/n, I know we just met but I think you’re really cute. Can I have your number?” He teases.

“Sure.” Keigo blinks at you for a moment, then two - as if he can’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. First, it comes out slowly, then all at once, the corners of his mouth pull up into a dazzling smile, and a deep laugh rumbles from his chest. It’s the smile though, and the happiness that seeps from him that has your head feeling dizzy. A small smile cracks across your face as you begin to rattle off your number. Keigo scrambles for his phone and quickly types it in, not missing a beat for a second. One he slips it back into his back pocket, you move your basket to your other arm and walk away from the hero. Only looking over your shoulder when you’re a few feet away. 

“It was nice to meet you Hawks.” Keigo runs a hand through his blonde hair, a delighted chuckle slipping past his lips that has you grinning. He had so underestimated you.  

“You’re going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?”

“Oh, you bet bird boy.” You say, turning away from him and walking to the checkout. Today might not be that bad after all, you think as the older lady scans your items and bags them. It’s only then that you realize again that the whole time you had been talking to Keigo, your crappy day had been forgotten and you had actually laughed. The entire thing, he did because he noticed you frazzled and looking down. Your respect for the hero grew, and it took everything in you to not turn around to where you knew he was now standing a few people behind you in the line. Instead, you left the store, the smile not moving from your face. You don’t even make it a few feet from the glass automatic doors of the supermarket before your phone pings, vibrating in your jacket pocket.  Reaching inside you look at the new text, immediately knowing who it’s from. 

From Unknown: Want to go get dinner with me sometime this week? - the KitKat fiend. 

You giggle at the way he ends it, and quickly tap out a response. 

As long as it’s not seafood I’m there. You reply, before you turn around, looking through the glass windows and finding his golden hair quickly. In the midst of a conversation with the store clerk, he suddenly reaches for his pocket and grabs his phone with furrowed brows. Suddenly, a beautiful, bright smile that even has the shop lady hesitating with her scanning just to witness it, stretches across his face. Keigo quickly fiddles with his phone before putting it away and turning his attention to the blushing woman behind the counter. Looks like he has that effect on everyone.  Your phone vibrates in your hand.

To bird-boy: It's a date. 

Who would have thought a small chance encounter with the number two hero where you bicker over ice cream would change your life in such a monumental way.

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[janaikam]

Roommates

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @emsylcatac!!!!!! You are such an amazing friend and I hope you have the best day ever!!!!

Summary:  When the new mayor of Paris offers an apartment to Paris' heroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn't pass up on the chance.

Beta reading done by the marvelous @macaronsforchat

Read on AO3.

“Woah!” Ladybug and Chat Noir breathed, looking around at the apartment.

Mayor Beaumont, Paris’ newest mayor, had recently offered the heroes an apartment in Paris. He claimed that it was to honor the heroes’ hard work over the years. But Ladybug figured that it was to keep him on the public’s good side. After all, he barely beat Mayor Bourgeois in the last election.

Although Marinette had her reservations about the apartment, she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to have free housing in Paris. She had just started looking at housing for her second year in university, and it was not cheap to find a decent apartment.

Plus it helped that Mayor Beaumont was keeping everything with the apartment confidential. It turned out that he owned multiple buildings around Paris, so they didn’t have to worry about a landlord selling the heroes out.

She was a little hesitant about rooming with Chat, but Beaumont reassured her that he would find the best apartment that would not reveal their identities to Paris or each other.

The last thing Marinette expected was for the mayor to get them a penthouse style apartment.

The apartment had a large kitchen, and after quickly checking the cabinets, it was fully stocked. An island in the middle of the kitchen separated it from the living room which had some nice black couches with some dark grey and white spiral pillows on top of it. Surrounding the couch there were two dark grey single seats. There was a door on the back wall that Ladybug realized was a balcony.

The walls were a plain cream color making the room not as inviting, but Marinette was sure that they could make it feel homier without them revealing their identities.

A little in between the living room and kitchen were two hallways on both ends. Walking down the hallway on the right, Ladybug saw that the hallway had two rooms--one looked to be a bedroom and the other an office--and a washer and dryer unit. Connecting the bedroom was a bathroom that had both a huge bath and a shower.

She could only imagine that the other side was set up similarly. It would definitely be possible for them to hide their identities without having to use their kwamis too much.

Walking back to the main area, Ladybug saw that Chat was just coming back after checking his side of the room.

“Alright, Chat, if we’re going to make this work, we need to set some ground rules.” She went to sit on the couch, and Chat followed.

“Anything for you my lady.”

“First off, I think in our respective spaces we can be detransformed, so we don’t overwork our kwamis. Second, whenever we’re here in the main space, we should be transformed or at least have something to hide our identities.”

Chat nodded in understanding. “What about inviting friends over? Some of my civilian friends know I’m moving into a new apartment, and it’d be really hard for me to keep them from here.”

Ladybug hummed. She had the same issue because Alya was definitely going to want to come over.

“How about we tell each other in advance? Like send a message or write a note? That way we would know when to just avoid coming to the apartment.”

“We could get separate phones to text on!” Chat’s eyes lit up. “It would be like we’re spies with a second phone.”

Ladybug scrunched up her face. “Ignoring the fact that we’d have to pay for phones and service, I think my friends would wonder why I suddenly have two phones.”

Chat deflated a little. “You’re right. Hmmm. Oh! We could use one of those online messaging apps. We could just make accounts and message each other there!”

“That would work.” Ladybug nodded.

“I’m excited to be your roommate, m’lady.”

“I’m excited to be your roommate, Chaton.”

--------

It had been a week living with Chat, and so far it had been going smoothly. Their schedules thankfully allowed them to miss when the other left or came back, so Marinette had no clue what Chat looked like. Though she did make a couple of masks that resembled their superhero ones. She always slipped hers on when she got on the elevator just in case, but there hadn’t been much of a need for it.

They had also found a website to message on to let the other know someone was coming over. He had some friend over earlier this week, and she just ended up spending the afternoon with her parents at the bakery.

It was her turn to have the apartment to herself as Alya was practically demanding to see Marinette’s new place.

Marinette was tidying up her new sewing room--she decided to use the office space for her sewing--when she heard a knock at the front door.

Opening the door, she saw Alya standing there practically bouncing with excitement.

“Marinette!” The brunette jumped onto Marinette and gave her a hug. “It’s been too long!”

Marinette laughed, hugging Alya back. “It’s only been a week.”

“Exactly. Too long.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Marinette shook her head as Alya walked in and set down her purse on the island.

“Not ridiculous. Excitable.”

Alya examined the fairly large apartment, walking over to the living room. Alya picked up one of the picture frames that Marinette had placed down. Marinette followed, looking over Alya’s shoulder and saw that she had picked up the picture of a Ladybug on a green flower.

Marinette smiled as Alya put it down. The photo just seemed like a regular picture to anyone, but for her and Chat it was a little nod to their identities.

“This place looks really nice. How on earth are you affording this?” Alya asked, turning to face Marinette.

Marinette nervously laughed, trying to think up an excuse. It was times like this she wished that she didn’t have to keep secrets to keep her friends safe. “My roommate knows the owner of the building and they worked out some deal, so we got the apartment at a nice price.”

Alya nodded, accepting the answer. “This must be some roommate if they’ve got connections like that.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome.” Marinette sighed, thinking of Chat.

She wondered what he was doing right about now since it was the middle of the afternoon, and he couldn’t be at the apartment. It had been something she found that she was always thinking about ever since they moved in together. Shaking out the thoughts of Chat, Marinette turned back towards Alya.

Her best friend was giving her a suspicious smirk that Marinette couldn’t quite place.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. I can’t wait to meet this super special roommate. He really seems like something,” Alya said, the smirk still on her face.

Marinette shivered, thinking about the trouble Chat’s civilian self might get into with Alya. They were already mischievous as it was when they were heroes back in collége, who knows what they would do.

“Ah, you probably may not see him around much. We have pretty different schedules, so I don’t see him much as it is.” Marinette let out a soft chuckle. “Hey! Let me show you my side of the apartment!”

Marinette dragged Alya to the hallway on the right, but a thud from the balcony stopped her in their tracks.

Turning towards the balcony, Marinette saw a blur of black before it quickly disappeared.

“What was that?” Alya freed herself from Marinette’s grasp and walked over to the balcony.

Marinette followed her onto the balcony.

“Is that Chat Noir?” Alya pointed to a fast-moving blur on the rooves. Marinette nodded, recognizing her partner from this distance. “I wonder if he’s going to that new apartment the mayor got the heroes. But why is he in such a hurry?”

Marinette turned to look in the direction that Chat had just come from only to see a large purple blob moving towards them.

“I think that might be why.”

Alya’s eyes widened as she spotted the akuma.

“Hey, Mari, I’m gonna have to take a rain check. See ya!”

With that Alya ran out of the apartment, phone in hand ready to record.

Marinette shook her head at her best friend. Despite how much they’ve grown, she was still the same person.

“Tikki, spots on!”

----

CN: Movie night?

Marinette considered the text. It wasn’t like Chat and her hadn’t been in the same room before, but the thought of being in the same room as Chat for at least an hour seemed like a weird concept to her. But it definitely didn’t sound unpleasant.

LB: What movie?

CN: You pick

Marinette hummed. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. Plus she was likely going to watch a movie by herself, so might as well have someone to watch with.

LB: Sure

Grabbing her mask and a couple of blankets, Marinette made her way to their living room.

Chat was already there along with a mountain of blankets and two medium-sized bowls of what she assumed was popcorn. Her kitty had the biggest of grins on his face, and when he spotted her he patted a spot on the couch where the pillows created a hole for someone to sit. The T.V. was already opened to the Netflix search.

Once Marinette had settled herself into the spot, Chat handed her one of the bowls of popcorn and the remote. Glancing down at the bowl of popcorn, Marinette noticed that there was a bunch of M&Ms and hardened chocolate syrup all over the popcorn.

“Omg, Chat, did you make all this?”

Chat nodded excitedly. “My mom and I used to make it all the time when I was younger. I thought you might like it.”

Marinette smiled back. “It looks great. Thank you, Chat. But how’d you know that I would say yes?”

“So what are we watching, my lady?” Marinette glared at his obvious change of topic but proceeded to find her favorite movie on the streaming service.

Clicking on the movie, she clicked play and settled back into the couch.

“Mirror, Mirror?” Chat asked.

“Yup. It’s a fantastic take on Snow White, and the costumes are just to die for,” Marinette said, popping some popcorn into her mouth. “Now hush, it’s starting.”

--

Marinette groaned, snuggling up closer to the wall next to her as a finger poked into her side. The wall chuckled, and the poking shifted into a slight shake.

“My lady…” a voice whispered near her ear. “My lady, the movie’s over.”

Slowly opening her eyes, Marinette saw that the movie credits were rolling, and some Netflix recommendations were showing on the screen.

She looked over to where Chat was and realized somehow during the movie, she had snuggled up right next to him.

She jumped up off the couch, a blush forming on her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry for falling asleep on you!”

“You’re good my lady.” Chat grinned. “You were right, the movie was great.”

“Uh yeah, I’m glad it enjoyed you.” Marinette shook her head. “I mean you enjoyed it. Anyways have a good night!”

As quickly as she could with her blanket, Marinette ran into her room, not daring to look back at Chat.

----

Marinette and Nino laughed as Alya slapped Adrien’s hand away from her fries. Adrien pouted but leaned back in his seat beside Nino.

“That’s what you get, you fry snatcher,” Alya reprimanded, holding a fry to emphasize her point.

Marinette couldn’t help but break out into laughter again. She missed spending time with her friends like this. The four of them had all started university at different schools this year, and it was hard for them to meet up. It just so happened that all of them had the afternoon free, so they planned to get lunch together and walk back to Marinette’s place.

Aside from Adrien stealing Alya’s fries, the afternoon consisted of the four of them sharing university stories.

They had already paid for their food and were waiting on Alya to finish so they could walk over to Marinette’s place to watch movies or maybe play some video games.

“There, all done. Now there are no more fries for you to steal.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue, causing Alya to sick out hers.

“Children, children, let us go so you can continue your childish games later,” Marinette said in an obnoxious accent.

“Pfft. What was that?” Alya asked, laughing.

“That was called a sophisticated voice, something you clearly know nothing about.”

Nino shook his head, standing up from the table. “You all are crazy.”

“If we’re crazy, then what are you? Cause you aren’t sane that’s for sure,” Alya teased.

“I’m saner than you.” Nino poked Alya’s nose with his finger and led them all out of the restaurant.

--

The walk to Marinette’s apartment building didn’t take that long. In fact, if Marinette didn’t know better, Adrien looked a little pale as their group entered the building.

“Hey, dude, don’t you live here?” Nino asked while they waited for the elevator to come down.

“Yeah, top floor.” Adrien flashed one of his model smiles, which meant something was bugging him, but Marinette couldn’t fathom what.

“I live on the top floor too. I didn’t know you moved into an apartment.”

The elevator doors opened, and Marinette clicked her floor.

“Yeah, turns out my dad owned this building, and I figured I might as well move into one of the apartments,” Adrien explained, scratching behind his head.

Adrien was lying. He had to be. The mayor of Paris owned this building. But why on earth would Adrien be lying about something like that? It didn’t make sense.

“Oh, uh, that’s neat.”

Thankfully they reached the top floor before Marinette could confront Adrien. He probably just didn’t want them to think he was wasting his money. Yeah, that had to be it. She didn’t know how much these apartments cost, but she figured it had to be a whole lot.

“You know Marinette has this hot roommate. From what I hear, he’s quite some guy,” Alya said to Adrien.

“Alya! You haven’t even met my roommate!”

“Do I have to meet him to know that he’s cute?” At this Nino raised his eyebrow, but Alya waved him off. “Not as cute as you babe.”

“Good.”

“1377. This is me.” Marinette unlocked the door to the apartment and let them in.

“Okay are you guys messing with me?” Marinette turned to see Nino standing in the doorway, looking between Marinette and Adrien.

Adrien himself looked like he was in a state of awe and panic.

“What do you mean?” Marinette scrunched her face together.

“This is Adrien’s apartment.”

“No, it’s no-oh my gosh.” She looked over at Adrien, making eye contact with the blonde. Her eyes widened as she recognized the familiar green eyes of her partner. It suddenly made sense why Adrien had been acting the way he did.

Staring into his eyes, she could see that he was having the same realization that she was. Slowly, Marinette made her way to Adrien, cautiously reaching her hand up to touch his face.

“It’s you,” Marinette gasped, covering her mouth.

“It’s you.” Adrien smiled a real smile, not his fake one.

She hugged him tightly as tears filled her eyes and threatened to fall. Adrien hugged her back just as fiercely, and she could feel his own tears flowing down, causing her own tears to fall.

“This is weird right?”

“Yes, Nino, this is weird.”

[unmaskedagain]

Rather be Me (than with You)

Hey everyone. This is a kind of angsty ONE-SHOT; not the usual humor and fun I usual go for. I decided to do something a bit different. I experimented with the idea of a story where Lila doesn’t get exposed. Marinette just moves on. Decides she deserves better.  This ISN’T a QUEEN MARI but Marinette does realize she’s a queen. 

This is Anti-Class but not Lila bashing. I didn’t not to got the normal LILA BASHING everyone usually does. Don’t get me wrong, Lila Bashing is my favorite tag in this fandom. But I wanted to do something different. Tell me what you think and if you like it.

It had been a long time since Marinette had cared about their snickering; cared that sometimes she ate alone. Marinette hadn’t given a rat’s ass about what anyone in her damn class thought. She had been done for a long time.

A year had passed since Lila created the hurricane that pretty much turned Marinette’s life upside. A year since Alya had been her best friend, since Adrien was her crush. Since Ladybug’s partner was Chat Noir, a year since she was anyone’s everyday Ladybug.

These days the other students in class ignored her, and she was fine with it. The minute Marinette stepped back and decide to say, “Fuck Them.” Lila had left her alone. The Italian girl still side-eyed her every now and then but was content to let Marinette be. One thing Lila did right was that she saw Marinette exactly as she should be seen; an unbeatable threat, and one hell of pain in the neck if she tried hard enough. For a while, Lila was sure the Marinette would expose her, that every lie she spun would come undone.

But then one day, just a few months after Lila had returned, Marinette came to school with a big grin on her face. Lila said one tall tales, and the other girl didn’t even blink. Lila still remembered that their eyes met and saw: nothing. No longer did righteous fury reside there. No hurt expression. Or tears. Just apathy, sheer indifference to everyone in class.

Lila didn’t smile that day. In fact, she found it hard to really smile for the rest of the week. Because though technically she had won, it didn’t feel like a victory. It was like the game the two girls played had resulted in a stalemate and Marinette decided the battle was over. Marinette lost all her friends. Lila had no choice but to keep up the lies, particularly, after her mother announced they wouldn’t be moving like they usually would after a few months. It took a lot of work. Lila could admit that if she had know Paris was permanent, she’d have been a little more honest.

So, in the end, neither girl won but neither girl lost.

Nevertheless, Lila was smart. She knew when to back off. And so she did. She learned quickly that if she kept Marinette’s name out of her mouth, she was golden. Lila also learned that Marinette wasn’t made at Lila. It was everyone else the Asian girl had a problem with.

Everyone else in class who quickly realized just what life was like without their everyday ladybug.

Gone was the random sweets from her parents’ bakery. Gone was the well planned birthday parties and class trips. Gone was the comforting shoulder. Gone was the friend who they could call no matter time of day or night if they needed someone to talk to. Gone was their biggest supporter. Gone was the always friendly face that promised to brighten the darkest day.

           The kids learned quickly, that if they were in trouble, they were on their own. Apart from Akuma attacks, that Ladybug still showed up for. Though Ladybug had taken to ignoring the students, particularly Alya. Even going as far as to say to the teen reporter, in front of other journalists, that she doesn’t talk to tabloids; too many rumors and lies.

           This had slowly but surly caused the downfall of the Ladyblog. Alya could no longer get the best scoop; no that went to Aurore who created an entire website with tips and advice and videos about and straight from Ladybug. The website fully endorsed by the hero. Alya had quickly decided that she just needed to talk to Ladybug to clear up whatever was caught the strife. It was then that Alya remembered that Marinette had gotten her that first interview, the interview that had launched the Ladyblog’s success. Marinette who she was no longer friends with.

           Marinette who had it clear that she didn’t care. She didn’t are that Alya’s beloved blog had spiraled into nothing. That Nino’s music career seemed to be at an all-time standstill. That Marc and Nathaniel’s comic and partnership had gone down in flames. (Mostly because Nathaniel had taken too much of Lila’s advice and changed too much of the comic to be recognizable.) Or that Ivan and Mylene had broken up. Juleka had gone back to never showing up in pictures. Rose was in tears that Prince Ali no longer wished to speak to her. Kitty Section had broken up. Chloe was a bigger bully than ever, though she too was smart enough to stay clear of Marinette. The list went on and on, getting worse and worse.

           Even the teachers realized just how much of a control presence that Marinette had. And just how lost their classrooms were without her.

           But still, Marinette didn’t care.

Marinette had been screwed over. Once. Twice. A dozen times. Her best friend, her sworn bestie, hadn’t been the loyal friend she promised she was; acted nice when was so not nice. Chat Noir, Adrien, had left her to fight alone so many times that Master Fu took back his Miraculous. Screwed over by her best friend. Twice. And then by all the other kids.

Still, no one could understand how the sweetest girl could go full Ice Queen.

They had been smart enough to get Luka and Kagami to ask Marinette at the school’s end of the year party. Adrien got Kagami to ask as Marinette had taken to ignoring him for a long time by then Juleka got Luka to promise to find out. Kagami and Luka had become her closest friends. And the fact that her classmates would use them to get information on her, just reminded Marinette just how done she was.

She was so done.

So after the two had asked. Instead of answering, Marinette texted Colton, her friend, and DJ of the party. Marinette needed to make something clear.

When the song, ended Marinette got on stage.

“Hey,” She said into the mic. Her hair was only a bit longer but the blue had been dyed out of it. Her skinny jeans were black and ripped and she had on a red halter top was lacy and elegant. “Someone of you might not know me. But I’ve done enough for this school and a lot the students, to know majority of you do.” Her tone was dry and her stare blank. “Over last year, I took a step back you could say from, well, bullshit.” There were laughs. Most of the students who knew of Marinette and had been affected by her kindness had reached out almost immediately when they realized something was wrong, something had changed.

           Marinette looked at the students, “I got screwed over by too many times to count.” She sighed. “Turns out, a lot there’s a lot of assholes in my class.” She said bluntly. “So how do I deal with it all. In fact, how do you deal with all the drama and bullies and liars and two-faced bitches in your life? I got some advice for you. Pay close attention because it worked great for me.” The music started and Marinette started to sing.

“Here's my secret strategy

It always works because

The world doesn't end

It just feels like it does”

           Marinette wasn’t the best singer but she was decent. The song wasn’t about high notes or theatrics. It was sung with grace and humor. A strong daria morgendorffer vibe.

So raise your right finger      Marinette raised her right hand flicked off the entire school and looked right at her classmates. There faces turned red and their eyes were wide.

And solemnly swear

"Whatever they say about me

I don't care!"

           The first few months had been hard. And full of mean looks were way and nasty remarks. Until they realized they needed her. They needed her charm. Her can-do attitude. Her to come back as class president. Her ideas. The free handmade clothes she designed.

I won't twist in knots to join your game

           Rose, surprising, had been the first to try to tempt her back. The other having enlisted the second sweetest girl in class to talk to Marinette. Rose had told Marinette that if she just admitted she was wrong Lila and apologize, they’d take her back. Marinette had told her to fuck off.

I will say, "you make me mad."

And if you treat me bad

I'll say "you're bad"

And if I eat alone from this moment on

That's just what I'll do

'Cause I'd rather be me, I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you

           Marinette had eaten alone for weeks until she made she found real friends in other classes, both upper and lower grades. That was when Marinette found out that she was well-liked by the majority of the school. And the majority of the school didn’t buy Lila’s lies.

We're supposed to all be ladies

And be nurturing and care

Is that really fair?

Boys get to fight, we have to share

           Marinette found new friends, made new plans, her schedule filled up again, and she was happy. That was when the rumors started. Alya and Alix, leading the charge, had taken upon themselves to tell Marinette new friends what a bully she was and the rest of the school as well. They got upset when no one believed them.

           They got even more upset when they realized Marinette didn’t care. At all. However, when Alix had taken it too far, he had decided to get physical and trip Marinette in the lunchroom….

Here's the way that turns out

We always understand

How to slap someone down

With our underhand

           Marinette got up, pulled her arm back, and knocked Alix’s lights out. “Don’t try that shit again,” Marinette had warned her ex-friends. “I have no problem kicking each and everyone one of your asses.”

She got a week’s detention but she smiled all the way through.

So here's my right finger Marinette flicked off the school again; waved it around so everyone could see it.

To how girls should behave

'Cause sometimes what's meant to break you

Makes you brave

So I will not act all innocent

I won't fake apologize

           From then on, it was everyone understood that a new Marinette walked the halls. One that didn’t care about being nice. How ladies should behave. She refused to apologize after a fight. And she never backed down from an agreement.

           Turns out losing all her friends didn’t break her. It made her braver. In a way Ladybug never managed to before then.

Let's just fight and then make up

Not tell these lies

Let's call our damage even

Clean the slate till it's like new

           Marinette never gave in; even when the ice out happened. All the kids in her class ignored her, they didn’t say a single word to her. Refused to pair with her. Didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

It's a new life for me

Where I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me

Than be with you

The once bluenette just laughed at their childish antics. She didn’t bat an eye as they wanted her too. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t fight like normal people. Or the very at least call the war done, the damage even on both sides, and then move on with clean slates.

I'll say, "NO!"

NO!

I'll say, "knock it off,

with your notes and your rules and your games."

           Marinette had just gone: NO. No. She wasn’t going to play their little games. Do anything to make it even remotely look like she card. It was over. She was done. It was all just a waiting game.

           Waiting for them to grow up and realize, it was game over. There was no magical way their friendship would ever be restored. They should move, let go. Find something better. Accept the loss and learned to live with it.

           Like she’d done with Lila. Marinette hadn’t been happy with the results of their chess game but she could live with it. Move on. Got a new life.

And those sycophants who follow you, Marinette turned her attention to the pretty Italian girl. If Lila ever came after her again… Or when her kingdom of lies fell, and there was no doubt it would. Marinette would be there to watch it burn.

I'll remember all their names, She sang to Lila who nodded having understood. Even she knew her time was running out. Though Lila wouldn’t just hand over her power willingly. No, Lila knew it would have to dragged away from her bloody hands before she let it go. Lila would fight. It was just the way she was.

           The one thing Marinette liked about the girl.

           Alya was getting desperately. Eventually, she’ll realize the answer to all her problems lay in the comments on her blog. All questioning why she was promoting such an obvious liar. And when she did… There would be hell to pay.

And when they drag you down

Like they inevitably do

I will not laugh along with them and

approve their palace coup, 'cause that's not me. She promised her once the greatest enemy. (Hawkmoth’s was Ladybug’s.) That caused Lila to smile.

           Because when the faux-faced kids turned their ire onto Lila. When they dragged her through the same torment they put Marinette though. At least the wannabe Volpina wouldn’t have to worry about the once Every Day ladybug.

           In fact, if Lila played her cards right, and she nearly always did. She’d find an alley to teach her. Teach her not to care. Teach her to be stronger. Teach her out to say “Fuck you” to the world.

           Because Marinette no longer cared enough to have any reason not to. Granted she could just say, “I. Don’t. Want. To.” Like she did frequently these days.

Janis. Janis. Janis. Janis

I don't need their good opinions

I have plenty of opinions

Everybody has opinions but it doesn't make them true

           Marinette didn’t care what her old friends thought. Or that they didn’t like her. Who cared? So what if they thought she was a bully? Or a jealous liar. Or a bad friend. Or the new Ice queen.

           She shrugged. She had a lot to say about them to.  And sure she bitched with Luka, Aurore, and Kagami but it wasn’t serious. It was just to vent. Because who cared?

What's true is being me

And I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you.

So raise them high 'cause playing nice and shy is insulting my IQ

           Marinette had no problem being a bitch if they pushed. She was no longer shy and sweet and far too nice for her own good. Because she had learned her lesson.

           And, Marinette thought, she learned it was so well that life rewarded. She was making clothes for Clara and Jagged. Worked with Chloe’s mom. She had an internship with Teen Vogue, in New York, that summer. Won several design contests. Got to see one of her designs on the red carpet worn by an up and coming actress that Jagged recommended her to.

           The actress said the brand was MDC, created by a kickass teenager name Marinette. That dress got the actress on the best-dressed list, and Marinette twenty more commissions by other almost, or kind of famous celebrities.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me

So maybe I should thank you. Marinette adlibbed the line but sang it directly to Lila who smirked as she knew exactly what the other girl was referring to.

           While Marinette would never say it, Lila knew, she had done the girl a favor. Showed her who her real friends were. Or weren’t. And without them, without the niceness and overly caring nature she once had, Marinette had thrived; gone further than Lila ever imagined.

           Lila had only wanted them because she liked the attention. However, she knew they weren’t real friends. No matter what Alya said, they weren’t besties. Lila didn’t trust the glasses-wearing girl as far she could throw her.

Because now I know…

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

           Most of her classmates looked sad. A few looked angry. Lila just looked up at her used to be nemesis with admiration and a small smile.

           A brief look of wonder and hope flashed over her face and for a moment she of just saying “To hell with it.” Screaming her sins and go binge watch Grey’s anatomy. Take up dance class when summer was over and the new school year began. She always loved dancing.

           It was the only thing Lila knew was honestly good at; great at even.

           But that moment passed. Lila liked her power. Besides, there was a good chance she could make everyone think Alya was crazy or lying to convince to save her blog; that Lila wasn’t the liar.

           Lila smirked. She had all summer to slowly leave breadcrumbs that Alya was reading too much into the situation, was too desperate, didn’t know what she was talking about. By the time the summer ended, Lila could have all other students convinced the once future great journalist had just lost her edge. So much so that it was reason Ladybug dissed the Ladyblog.

           Alya wouldn’t be a challenge like Marinette had been. Not even close. Marinette had been the Sherlock to Lila’s Moriarty. (If Marinette had kept the game going, Lila would’ve too. Until it was a full-scale war. No prisoners. Just blood; both metaphorical blood and the real red stuff.)

Alya would be too easy. But it would still be fun. Even if Alya managed to pull a fast one, there was no way their little friendships would survive what they did to Marinette. Not all the blame could be put on Lila, no matter how much they tried.

And when Marinette didn’t come back after the truth was revealed and they begged and apologized for never believing her; for not trusting her. Blame would shift. Especially if Lila changed classes like she knew Marinette had to be at least considering.

I'd Rather Be Me

           Because, Marinette would never be their friend again. They were just pawns in the game of life. And Marinette realized that while pawns could become queens. They never went back to being pawns again.

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Marinette was doing just fine. She wasn’t their friend. She didn’t like them.

And most importantly, Marinette didn’t care.

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life Sequel (7/10) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1533 Summary: Finally, a day off for Marinette and Adrien. To celebrate, they decide to capture it on video for their fans. Author's Note: domestic adrienette domestic adrienette domestic adrienette!!! my fave. Sorry for missing two weeks, been busy! Only 3 more chapters of the sequel (also there's a hint to the next chapter at the end of this one wink)

Prev / Next / Masterlist

Our Day Off

---

Nowadays, Marinette and Adrien rarely slept in. They were constantly going with work and life, but they decided to treat themselves today by getting extra sleep. The rebrand is almost complete, meaning both Adrien and Marinette will get to breathe for a few days. The main stuff was done, like the website, displays, tags, and business cards, among other smaller things.

He was getting a little nervous, but excited, as the final day got closer. They planned a fashion show to truly ring in the new era of Agreste Fashion, now called Emilie's, with Marinette and her team's line as the first official Emilie's line. They also reworked some fan-favorite clothing to make them fit the brand better while getting rid of Gabriel's name. It was going to be an exciting day, seeing the old and the new mix together. But there were still a few weeks until that day; there was still work to be done.

However, it was Saturday, and both Marinette and Adrien decided they could have a few extra hours of sleep. Adrien rolled out of bed earlier than Marinette and went to the kitchen to start breakfast. It was nothing crazy, just some eggs, because they agreed to stop by their favorite bakery to see her parents and enjoy a well-deserved macaron. Or two.

Marinette followed him into the kitchen when she smelled the eggs, her hair still unbrushed and in her pajamas. "Smells good, Adrien," She yawned.

"I'm glad. Time for a quick breakfast so we can go see your parents," He said as he slid the plate over to her seat.

Marinette nodded and took a bite. "You know, I was thinking," She said, carefully. "I wanted to put up a video like we used to do. Maybe we could vlog our day, or at least some of it? One of our first days in a long time that we haven't been so busy with work. Heck, I don't think either of us has had a day out of the office in at least two weeks."

A big smile formed on Adrien's face. "I think that's a great idea, Mari!" He hopped up and walked to the corner of the living room that had Marinette's desk. He grabbed her camera battery off the charger, then her camera bag, and brought it back over. Marinette would have gotten it herself, but sometimes, Adrien beats her to it.

She thanked him for the camera as she got her settings flipped to the right ones, then held it up. "Hi! I'm Marinette!" She waved at the camera, with Adrien waving behind her. "I know I look like a mess right now, but on our day off, we wanted to vlog! It's been so long since I've done a video like this, so I'm excited to give you guys some insight on how we've been recently."

"I made eggs," Adrien held his place up with a big grin when Marinette paused.

"And they're lovely, thank you, Adrien," Marinette admired. He set his plate back down, clearly proud of himself.

"Well, we're going to finish breakfast, then head over to our favorite bakery in the world! I'm sure we'll check back in then," Adrien said, Marinette nodding with him, and she shut the camera off.

Marinette and Adrien finished their eggs quickly and got their morning routines done. They were out the door by eleven o'clock, which to most people meant they barely slept in, but sleeping past eight was glorious for them.

Marinette got the camera back out when they were in the car. It wasn't too far of a drive to get to her parent's, but it was just long enough that the car was needed, and she had some time to talk to her camera. "We're in the car now, and let me just say, my stomach has been aching for some sweets recently. We've been so busy we haven't had time to go get anything other than what's in our fridge or the late-night store around the corner from Emilie's," Marinette rambled.

"Well, when we get to work at six or seven in the morning, and we stay past dinner time, we don't have the time to go there, and most other places are closed when we head out," Adrien said. "Don't get me wrong, I love what we're doing, but it sure is tiring."

"Once the rebrand is done, hopefully we'll have a more normal schedule," Marinette said. "Long days, but it'll be worth it."

Adrien agreed. They continued rambling about work all the way until they parked near the bakery. It had only been a few weeks since she last saw her parents, but it was always nice to see them and talk about life, no matter how long it had been. Her parents tried to stuff them full of all kinds of sweets while listening to Marinette talk about how excited and exhausted she was about her team's line, and Adrien talked about how pleased he is with changing the brand to remember his mom. They had front row seats to the fashion show, and couldn't wait to see it all come alive.

Marinette did record some of her parents and the bakery, but they just talked most of the time. They closed for lunch, so there was all the time they needed before Marinette and Adrien had to leave; well, they didn't want the bakery to be closed for the whole day.

They ran a few errands, like grabbing a few groceries, and Marinette can never resist picking up some swatches when they pass her favorite store. They checked out a few shops that should have received the new displays and were able to see them getting set up.

What was truly special, though, was their evening. They ordered a pizza for a movie night so they could fully relax. Plagg snacked on his cheese while Tikki sat in her little bed on the table so Marinette and Adrien could finish setting up. Marinette walked over to the hidden safe in the closet and opened it, pulling out the special box. She set it on the coffee table and opened it, letting all the Kwamis out to play.

Usually, she tries to let them out at least once a week. But with them being so busy lately, it has been a lot less. The Kwamis love her and Adrien and understand; they're just excited to come out to see them and Plagg and Tikki, and they were even more excited to hear about movie night. A strange idea to their magical creatures, but they all seemed to love it all the same. Though they did miss Trixx, Pollen, and Wayzz, the rest of them knew they were having a good time with their masters, and they were able to enjoy themselves.

Marinette scrolled through the streaming services to find the perfect movie while all the Kwamis got comfortable around the couch and little pet beds. As she waited for Adrien to come back from the kitchen with pizza boxes and their drinks, she pulled out her camera for one last update to their vlog.

"Well, here we are to end the night! Adrien and I are relaxing with a movie and pizza, and it's a great way to end our first full day off. It's a nice break, but I'm excited to get back to work. Can't wait for all of you to see what we've been working on!" She said. Marinette was extra thankful that Kwamis are not visible on camera, because it would have looked crazy with all the little animals sat around her.

"I can't either!" Adrien popped in, setting the food on the table, then kissing Marinette's cheek. "This was fun; we should make more videos when we have time."

"I would love it, and I'm sure they would, too," Marinette gestured to the camera. "But that's it for today. Make sure to follow us in the description and be ready for some more videos, hopefully soon!" Marinette said, and both of them waved as she ended the recording. She would have to find time to edit it, maybe tomorrow before work.

Marinette and Adrien began digging into the pizza as she pressed play on the movie; both she and Adrien cuddled up to one another, all the Kwamis filled in around them.

As always, she was ecstatic to see some of the replies on the video. It was one of the things she missed most about not uploading as often.

I've missed these type of videos so much! I would LOVE more when you guys aren't busy!!

Seeing them happy makes me so happy. I'm so glad their lives are turning out great after everything they dealt with as teenagers

did you guys see that those guys who forced them into lb and cn got charged? DESERVED! But I'm so glad you guys are alright after that, it looks like you had a fun day

PLEASE TELL ME YOURE GOING TO RECORD ALYA AND NINOS WEDDING I CANT WAIT FOR THEM TO GET MARRIED ITS GOING TO BE BEAUTIFUL

I can't wait to say I have clothes from Emilie's! Such a beautiful meaning behind the name change and I can't wait to own a Marinette design from Emilie's instead of Agreste Fashion. We knew this day would come! (I know she's been designing for them for a while, but this is different guys)

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries  @toodaloo-kangaroo 

[purpleyellow]

V Day

BTS 8th member

Sunny’s masterlist

“Taehyung and Sunny have some bonding time”

a/n: Feel free to talk to me if you need, also any type of feedback is always welcome

SEND REQUESTS

Sunny and Taehyung walked through the doors of the nail salon and sat on the couch at the entrance, quickly being greeted by one of the receptionists, who checked if they had booked an appointment and offered some drinks while they were waiting. 

“This is nice” Taehyung said getting comfortable on the small couch and drinking from his freshly made coffee. “Much better than the backstage of some music show”

The place truly had a nice feel to it, the walls and the furniture were a pastel pink color, there was soothing music playing and the subtle smell of coffee-based drinks. Definitely an upgrade from the busy places they usually were when someone was doing their makeup, hair, and in the girl’s case, nails.

“Coming here is therapeutic for me. Like a spa day!” Sunny said cheerfully, definitely a change from the serious girl she usually was.

“I get why you kept bugging me to come here” Taehyung nodded and looked around. This was like a safe place for the girl, it made sense that she wanted to bring the boys with her, and it also made sense that V was the first one. He, out of all of them, was the only one who didn’t make a fuss about it when she asked if they wanted to go to a nail salon with her.

Soon their names were called and they entered a small room with 4 tables. Splitting up, Sunny sat on the table of her favorite nail artist and started catching up with her while she treated her hands. 

To her left, Taehyung had also sat down and the woman in front of him politely asked him to take off his shoes. 

A pedicure in the boy’s mind was simply clipping the nails and maybe a quick foot massage, so he was in for a big surprise. While making their appointments, Sunny made sure he got the longest treatment they had, so he didn’t have to wait for her to get her nails done (a process that usually lasted an hour or so).  

“Wait, what?” V said, after a while, way too loud for the calm ambient, making everyone on the salon laugh.

“It’s part of the process sir. It doesn’t hurt or anything, we do this every day” the lady said as she put a container full of little fish on his feet, apparently, they would eat the dead skin or whatever.

Looking to his right for some sort of reassurance Sunny just shrug and filmed with her phone as he slowly put his feet on the water, letting out little shrieks here and there. It truly didn’t hurt, but it tickled a lot, so he had to hold back some laughs

After some more time, Sunny looked to her left and caught a glimpse of the boy hunched over watching intensely as the women applied a layer of black polish to his toenail, she had to hold back a snort as she remembered him asking if he could only put a clear base.  

Turns out he had decided to do a somewhat of a fading look, starting with black on his toe and ending with a very light gray on his pinky. Even though it didn’t look that great Sunny thought it was very Taehyung, artsy and weird, plus, the proud look on his face as he saw the final product was very cute.

Walking back to their dorms, the boy couldn’t stop talking about the whole experience, like it had been the most surreal thing in the world.

“I honestly don’t think my feet were ever this soft. That was so fun, I feel like I’m walking on duvet right now” he said like a child who couldn’t exactly explain something. 

“Do you want to eat something before we get back?” Sunny said as they passed in front of a bakery. 

Opening the door, they were instantly filled with the smell of bread and cake, unconsciously letting out a little hum of delight.  Buying a cupcake for each, Taehyung sat down in front of the girl and they started eating.

“This might be the best day of my life” he said taking a bite of the strawberry frosting and rolling his eyes back. 

“Well, that’s the good thing about having me as a friend” Sunny said with a smug smile and Taehyung slightly slapped her on the arm, in a shut-up kind of way. 

[shereadsandwritesformelanin]

The Baker And Her Actor Part II!

The Baker And Her Actor: part II: [The Dog Park]

Paring: Chris Evans x Black Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris while making a house delivery for the Evans. He can’t get you off his mind, and to be honest you can’t either.

Warnings: profanity, sexual content, angst, but overall fluff!

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy! If you have request feel free to share those!!

Previous Part(s): Part(s) --> (1)

—-

Y/n’ Point Of View:

You wake up to the moist kisses your dog Haneli places all around the surface of your face.

The best way to wake up.

“Hey girl, good morning baby.” You say petting her thick fur.

You play with your pup entertaining her for awhile in your bedroom, practicing tricks and just goofing around.

“Hey wanna go to the dog park today?” You ask Hanlei as if she’d respond.

Even though she couldn’t talk you could tell by the way her eyes lit up she was fond of the idea.

You walk toward you small closet, reaching up to find something cozy to wear.

You decide on a pair of navy blue adidas leggings a black long sleeve you probably got from a thrift shop a puffer jacket and black scarf to cozy up in.

“Okay you ready?” You ask your pup

She wags her tail in agreement.

You grab her collar and clip on her leash brushing over her fur once more before locking the door to your loft apartment.

It was another beautiful fall Boston day. The way the leaves had turned a shade of pumpkin orange and fiery red, the scenery of the small town never seized to impress you.

You reach the dog park unhooking Haneli from her leash, pulling out a bag of her treats.

You thought to take this time to continue to work on tricks and commands with her.

 Seeing she was only 6 months old and almost as big as you, you thought commands would be necessary.

“Okay Haneli, circle me.’ You can do it girl, circle me.” You command holding her favorite treats in your palm.

Just like that she circles you twice, you throw her two treats. You watch her race to get her treats.

Playing with Haneli you couldn't help but recap on last nights events. 

You just couldn't wrap your head around why Scott Evans, of all people would not only follow you, but lurk on you page liking pictures from over 2 years ago.

Was Chris apart of this? 

You couldn't help but think it, I mean it was a possibility right? 

Unlikely.

You snap out of your thought when you laid eyes on your now bored 6 month old golden retriever. She wagged her tail waiting patiently to go at it again.

“Sorry girl, let’s go again. Circle me, c’mon you can do it.” You encourage.

You amazed at how flawlessly she executed the trick, bending down you give her the treat in one hand while petting her in the other.

“That was a good trick.”

The voice startled you. You stumble back a little clutching your chest

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I just noticed you and wanted to say hello.” Chris apologized

He looked amazing, how can a man look so good but so simple.

He even had on the grey sweatpants.

“Oh it’s no big deal, I scare easy anyway.” You giggle attempting to relieve some of the nervous tension.

Haneli interrupt,  breaking her way through your legs.  You watch as she makes her way over to whom you assume is the dodger Kiara had told you about. You both watch mesmerize as your dogs interact, doing what they do best, sniffing one another.

“So cute.” You say breaking this silence.

“Right!’ What’s your dogs name?” Chris asks.

“Her names Haneli.” You blurt

“Haneli, I like it.” Chris compliments.

You wondered how he knew it was you from afar. I mean the way you stood versus the way he approached, it was strange he instantly knew it was you.

Was it because He and Scott were potentially cyber stalking you the previous night.

Just ask him, be bold.

“So, how did you know it was me if my back was toward you?” You question head hung low.

“Your hair, can’t miss it.” Chris jokes mimicking the shape with his hands.

“Kind of wished my hair looked like that, maybe if I wore a bonnet.” He follows

You immediately lock eyes with him not sure if he was serious or joking, either way it was indeed hilarious.

You break through your nerves laughing at his adorable joke. You could tell he was only trying to relate and make you feel comfortable.

“Well we should get going, I have to open the shop for the afternoon shift.’ You explain. “It was nice seeing you again, for the third time.” You tease

“Yeah I guess are interactions are a little frequent, but y/n can I, maybe have your number. If it’s isn’t a problem for you, no pressure.” He stammered.

Was the Chris Evans nervous to ask for your number? Wait scratch that, did the Chris Evans ask you for your number?

You were definitely just as nervous as him, but you could not pass up this opportunity to at least be friends. 

“Um of course, sure.” You comply immediately

Taking his phone the screen trembled as you typed, you hadn’t done this is a while. It was so foreign to you.

For your photo you snap a quick picture of haneli, smiling down at her adorable face.

“Cute.” Chris chuckles taking his phone back from your much smaller hands. “I’ll text you later?” He says almost as a question.

“Only if you want.” You shy

“Luckily for you, I do.” Chris smirks gathering dodger walking away.

You felt your stomach churn in excitement, those damn butterflies were fluttering again.

His scent was intoxicating and his Boston accent was sexy, it was enough to make you crumble.

You hoped he would actually text you, with him being a big name in Hollywood you doubt if he’d ever been have time to get around to you.

—

Chris’s Point Of View:

Y/n looked beautiful today.

The way her hair was up in a beautiful updo, and her athletic clothes. Those leggings that fit her curves hugging her ass so well, she had a nice ass.

Stop it Chris.

Your outfit completely captured her essence.

To be completely transparent I had come here to walk dodger and get some fresh air, when I noticed she was here I couldn’t help but creep and watch for a minute, or two.

The way you smiled and laughed with  Haneli warmed my heart.

Driving home all my thoughts were intoxicated with y/n.

Even though I lived alone thinking about you didn’t make my house feel so big anymore.

Your warmth made it feel as if you could be here.

With me.

Gosh Y/n what are you doing to me?

——

Y/n’s Point Of View:

You walk into the bakery opening up shop, fiddling around to waste time until a costumer graced you.

You weren’t one hundred percent focused though. Chris had interrupted your thoughts more than once.

Since him returning to give you the tip, him possibly cyber stalking you, and now running into one another at the dog park.

It was almost like you couldn’t escape him.

But you weren’t complaining. For the most with all of your interactions he’d been nothing but the perfect gentleman and he was funny as well.

So far no complaints, not that it mattered.

A noise startles you breaking your train of thought.

“Kiara I had no Idea you were here.” You whisper shout holding your chest

“Uh, yeah I work every Monday.”

“Yeah right, I’m sorry just a lot on my mind right now.” You stated

“What or should I say who would that be?” Kiara implies wiggling her perfect brows.

She saw right through you ever time one of her many talents.

“We ran into each other at the dog park this morning.” You confess chest now feeling much lighter.

“What?! Kiara shouts. ‘Is he stalking you or something?”

“No he was walking dodger and said he recognized me and just started a conversation, no big deal.” You reassure.

Big deal, big fucking deal.

“Big deal my ass, your smitten like a kitten and he might like you.” Kiara suggests

“ I don’t know it wasn’t like that. I mean he asked for number but-.”

If she wasn’t excited it for you before she definitely was now. Kiara drops the broom she was carrying on the ground and her eyes go wide.

“Are you kidding me!’ Kiara trilled. “He asked for your number, like how reenact it for me. I’m you, your Chris.”

“Okay so basically, he just asked for number like a normal human being.”

“Lame! I want the juic more must have happened.” Kiara remarked.

“No it really happened that way.”

“Let me ask you this. How long has it been since you’ve got laid?”

A question you had to ponder on. It had been a while, you were celibate for about four years after your last serious relationship.

The only thing that had been down there were tampons, a few sex toys and a shower head.

“Since him.” You whisper

Kiara looked almost shocked although she was your Bestfriend you had been on a few spotty dates here and there she could have been sure you were getting some with those guys, but four years.

“Uh uh, text him right now and tell him you want to suck his white chocolate stick off right now!” She cursed.

“No!’ You shout. “Please use your lady mouth.” You demand

“I need you to use your lady mouth.” She says pretending to perform oral sex with the air.

“You’re ridiculous.” You chuckle

Just like clock work your first costumers of the afternoon walk in. you smile greeting the small family pushing the thoughts of Chris as far back as you could.

—-

Later that evening:

It’d been a rather long shift. It was a beautiful day so people were out more than usual.

You enjoyed costumer interaction and spreading your brand so that was no problem.

You were finishing the final pieces of closing up the shop.

Counting the cash profits and tips. You’re interrupted by the pinging of your phone.

You huff in frustration looming down at your phone.

Unknown number: Hi.

Y/n: Hello.Chris?

Unknown number: No not Chris. I’m sorry who is this again new phone so.

Y/n: I’m sure you’re not looking for me! Goodnight.

Unknown number: y/n, it’s Chris 😂

Y/n: Actor.. -_-

You quickly switch his name to a secretive and rather suggestive contact name.

The Captain: what are you up to?

Y/n: Closing up shop, talk when I’m home?

The Captain: Nah might be to tired.

Y/n: :(.

The Captain: kidding. Text me when you’re home, be safe.

You were shocked he actually got around to you let alone wanted you to be safe.

You felt like the flash the way you practically sped through your work to get home and text Chris. 

You were beyond excited, more excited than you’d like to admit but you couldn't shake the feeling that this was, this could be something great.

---

Getting home and settling down you took a shower taking your time, making sure to really exfoliate and moisturize your tired skin. You took your time twisting your hair, sealing in the moisture adequately.

You didn't want Chris to think you were desperate for him to like you, so you made him wait out for an hour, or two.

Finally at around eleven p.m you decided to send him a text.

Y/n: Hi :).

The Captain: Hey. Here I was thinking you forgot all about me.

Y/n: How could I do that?.

The Captain: Well maybe your boyfriends got you preoccupied ;). 

Y/n: Single. :p

Why would he assume I have a boyfriend?

---

Chris’s Point Of View:

I can't lie I was excited to learn she was available. Through our text and interactions I can tell she was a genuine person. 

After my last relationship I promised to let things come to me, yes I screwed up here and there going on dates who only wanted me for the label. 

Maybe letting y/n secretly slip into my life undetected was what I needed, what I wanted.

I want to take it slow to protect myself but something about her makes me wanna go all the way and quickly, and we’ve barley talked.

---

Y/n’s Point Of View:

Chris kept the conversation interesting, most of the questions asking about you and what your interests were. 

Knowing men you definitely knew he was figuring you out. Wanting to “get to know you more.”

You both exchanged questions back and forth.

He asked you about Disney.

You asked him about conspiracies.

You both dint want the night to end. The text were funny, serious, a little invasive. 

You felt like you knew Chris forever, when his named popped on your screen it warmed you heart.

So it melted when you felt your eyes grow heavy knowing you had work early in the morning. 

Y/n: Chris, I have to go.. I work early tomorrow.

The Captain: :( I understand sleep well beautiful.

Y/n: You as well.

The Captain: :)

And with that you put your phone to rest. Laying awake, lingering on his last words. 

Beautiful. Did he really think so?

Your eyelids falling you imagine Chris cradling you whispering those sweet words in your ear with his Boston accent.

God I think I like him.

---

Second Part! Let me know what you think below!

Are you liking their dynamic so far? Is it moving too fast or the perfect pace?

(please interact this helps me be a better story writer!)

Things will heat up soon don't you worry!

—

Tag List:

@toniilaney

[hergan416]

For the Chocolate / Kisses prompt in the MF Discord server

Written in the YGO/One Piece Crossover universe created for Seek and Ye Shall Find.

While the main fic is rated M, the work below is rated T. 

I ended up just giving up and deciding to post it. Sorry for any mistakes that still exist. Hopefully Japan is accurate enough--as a dumb white American I know nothing except what google, and a very nice person from the Yugioh mini-exchange discord server, have told me.

(I reserve the right to edit this before I add any of it to the main story).

Katakuri stood in front of the proffered address, passed from Pegasus’ hands to his own, warily. His presence no longer seemed to be jail-worthy, as he’d been released, but he was sure that it had something to do with the influence of the white haired man and the conversation they had had.

He could see into the window of the bedroom above the shop from his full height, the bright red lettering reading “Kame Game” above the shop’s door passing his chest like a t-shirt slogan. A small man sat on a bed, zoned out in front of one of the square boxes he'd learned to call TVs, a corded remote in his hands. His face screwed together closely in concentration, and his whole body moved as he pushed the buttons on the controller.

Katakuri crouched, feeling intrusive. The glass panes on the store's doorframe revealed an equally miniscule shop interior. Katakuri would never fit inside, even if he could make it past the front door. He raised a hand to knock twice on the glass, rattling the frame a bit, despite the fact he'd attempted to be gentle.

The noise attracted the attention of the shopkeeper behind the counter. The short, graying man glanced up, widening his eyes in shock. He paced slowly towards the door, pushing it open hesitantly. 

“May I help you?” he asked.

“I’m looking for Yugi,” Katakuri stated, glancing down at the short man, who was still nearly half Kakauri’s stature when he bent in two like this. “Is that you?”

“Oh no,” the man chuckled fondly. “That’s my grandson. I’ll get him for you.” The man glanced up at Katakuri curiously, but made no comment as he turned back inside the store. Katakuri watched him shuffle to the back of the shop to open a door, yelling up the stairs behind it. 

Momentarily, the short man from the bedroom bolted down the stairs past his grandfather, glancing out the shop door with a confused expression. As soon as he saw Katakuri, however, some understanding crossed his face.

Katakuri would normally have predicted someone to have turned away and become worried based on that look. Yugi, however, smiled widely and walked out the door to talk to him.

“Hello!” Yugi greeted, and Katakuri blinked.

“Hello,” he responded, wondering what Yugi’s gambit was, and wishing once more that using his future sight under this world’s conditions didn’t make him feel so ill.

“Jounouchi told me about meeting you,” Yugi said again, grin not leaving his face.

That made Yugi’s response even more confusing. Katakuri needed control over the conversation. To try to preemptively dispel any of Yugi’s worries, displayed or not, he asked, “Did he tell you that I’m visiting from another world?” 

Yugi only shook his head excitedly. “No, just that you first appeared in the Kaiba Dome, and that you were strong. But you don’t seem dangerous.”

Not dangerous? What was wrong with him?

“What can I do for you?” Yugi asked, looking up at Katakuri patiently. He had to crane his neck, even with Katakuri bent over like this, not being much taller than his grandfather.

Either way, if Yugi wanted to get to the point of the conversation, Katakuri had no issue. “My mom likes sweets,” Katakuri started. “Before I go home, I want to bring some samples back for her, as a present.”

“Oh! That makes sense!” Yugi beamed. He couldn’t really be that gullible, could he? “I can help you find some treats to bring her. There are a lot of interesting candies in Japan.”

Katakuri nodded. “Thank you.”

Yugi smiled broadly. “I think my partner might be helpful too, if you don’t mind another tagging along?”

Katakuri blinked. “Sure?” he replied.

“Great! Ryou loves cream puffs, I don’t want to show you the best bakery in town without bringing them along. Let me call them!”

Yugi was so cheerful. Katakuri could so easily kill him, why was he so carefree? And why did Yugi say Ryou was a “them?”

Yugi had pulled a small, shiny purple device from his pocket and flipped it open, pressing a few digits on the interior keypad of the phone. While the ringing Katakuri could hear faintly was different than a den den, the familiar "clank" proceeded the voice of another human answering was reminiscent of the creatures.

"Hey Yugi! What's up?"

"Wanna get some cream puffs?" Yugi asked excitedly, not mentioning Katakuri.

"Always! What's the occasion?" came the muffled voice on the other line.

"I have a new friend that is shopping for sweets for their mom." Yugi glanced at Katakuri, as though making a mental note. 

Katakuri had been struck by the turn of phrase in which he had been also called they, and had stopped listening momentarily to Ryou’s response.

"I forgot to ask," Yugi replied guilty, loudly enough to interrupt Katakuri’s thoughts. He put his hand over the phone and gestured up at Katakuri to get his attention.

"What are your pronouns?"

His what? Katakuri blinked.

"I use he/him," Yugi continued, gesturing towards himself. "Ryou uses they/them." He gestured at the electronic device. Ryou was not a she or a he, it seemed like. Intriguing. He wondered what a person like that would be like. This world was interesting.

Why did Yugi think he might be a they/them too? Was something off about his masculinity in this world? Everyone at home was quick to call him a him. Having an option now seemed...interesting. Maybe he should try it, try to be a they/them. Not have to be a brother for a minute.

But what if they found out? There had to be some classification for being a they/them, unique to this world. And not being from this world, he likely didn’t have it.

"He/him," Katakuri replied, his voice expressing doomed finality.

"He, sorry," Yugi said into the phone, repeating the information without comment as to how long it took Katakuri to answer, or the tone of his voice. Katakuri felt a pang of regret at the pronoun choice, then shoved all the feelings about the conversation away. It wasn’t fair to Yugi, or his family, or anyone.

Katakuri listened intently as the information which had seemed so important moments ago was glossed over. All that, just to be met with smiles and grins, and questions about where they should meet.

"We're in front of Kame Game right now, but we could probably start heading towards downtown and meet you there. I don't think he will fit in a taxi."

"Oh! Is this that giant guy from the news?!" Ryou sounded excited. "I thought it was just a myth. Maybe he has information about other cryptids!" Katakuri blinked. Why would he know anything about this world’s cryptids?

Yugi chuckled into the receiver. "Meet you at New Domnio Baked Goods. We should head out sooner rather than later."

Ryou assented, and the phone call ended.

"My name is Katakuri," Katakuri added, realizing he had not said so before.

"Nice to meet you. It seems like you at least knew of me, I'm Yugi," Yugi replied, holding out his hand.

As Katakuri took it, he was conscious not to squeeze at all. He doubted that anyone on earth had the constitution to withstand a proper handshake, and Yugi was even smaller than Pegasus had been.

"We should start walking," Yugi said, gesturing forward down the street. "The bakery is going to be downtown."

Katakuri nodded, standing back up to his full height with a stretch. A few moments later, he’d fallen into step behind Yugi. 

As they walked, Katakuri was struck by how little dichotomy there actually was between the two of them. Yugi was obviously quite short, and trusted far too easily. But they had a similar fashion sense, all leather and belts and blacks, with outlandish hair color. Yugi walked confidently through the world, but the confidence lacked arrogance, like Seto Kaiba possessed. Further, Yugi seemed to love a challenge, already puzzling through the best route to get candies.

“We’ll stop at Lawson on the way. That way you can see some of the convenience store treats, and Lawson’s the best for those. We’ll get a Baschee, and see if there’s also a real one left at the bakery, so she can tell the difference. And I think they’ve got the sake Kit Kats in stock right now, and you’ll have to try the Banana and Rum Raisin ones, those are the ones from our region…”

Katakuri simply nodded along, content to leave the planning to Yugi. There was one thing he cared about, however. “There are donuts at the bakery, right?” he asked.

“Of course. I can make sure you get some,” Yugi smiled up at Katakuri brightly. 

“What’s your budget like?” Yugi asked, face falling suddenly, as though he’d run into an unexpected roadblock.

Katakuri blinked, then pulled out the paper money Pegasus had given him in exchange for a few Berri to study. He handed it all to Yugi, not understanding the difference in the colored slips of paper. “I don’t normally pay for things, so you’ll just have to figure it out.”

Yugi’s eyes widened, ignoring Katakuri’s comment. “Oh, wow! We could even buy admission to Kaiba Land and try all the duel monsters treats there with this!” Yugi’s eyes were gleaming, looking excited. “You can get the Blue Eyes White Dragons and the Dark Magician treats anywhere, but all the other duel monsters are Kaiba Land exclusives. Marshmallon is my favorite, but the Kuribohs are good too. Oh! And there are these little heart-shaped candies that the lady dressed up like Injection Fairy Lily makes at the bake store….”

Katakuri shook his head, interrupting Yugi. “I don’t think Kaiba Land is a good idea,” he warned, frowning behind his scarf. “I don’t want to make him any angrier than he already is. Plus, my mother is even larger than me. Imagine how many sweets she’ll need just to try them. And I would like enough to taste as well.

Yugi shrugged, but nodded, taking Katakuri’s response in stride. “That makes sense, I guess,” Yugi said.

“Just buy a lot of everything,” Katakuri replied. “Lawson’s and your bakery should be plenty.”

Yugi nodded, beginning the conversation about the various Lawson’s snacks anew as they walked.

----

Soon, the pair had arrived in front of a large, brightly lit storefront, a blue banner stretching across the top of the building. Glass windows showed rows and rows of products (from food to clothing, and everything in between) stocked in neat rows inside. Katakuri, of course, could not fit.

“Can you uh…” he trailed off, and Yugi smiled up at him. 

Yugi shuffled into the store, pulling items off the shelves in bulk. Katakuri watched Yugi through the glass for the nearly fifteen minutes it took Yugi to find all the items, wait in line, and check out. Yugi shuffled out, the mound of sweets stored in several plastic bags. Katakuri couldn’t wait to try them, once back in Brulee’s mirror. His mouth watered, and he had to force his stomach to stop from rumbling.

“I’ll come back soon. Did my list sound ok?”

Katakuri just nodded. He wasn’t going to tell Yugi that the list didn’t make any sense to him, and that he’d stopped listening to Yugi’s ramblings pretty soon after shutting him down about the theme park, since they were making him hungry.

Walking to the bakery was even worse. Even though he knew that he’d be acquiring donuts, the weight of all the things Yugi had bought at the convenience store was taunting Katakuri, who had yet to eat since he’d arrived in Dominio a few days ago. But, with his goal so close, and the promise of returning to Brulee to eat them so near, he knew he needed patience.

The hunger made his height even worse, however, and gravity was weighing heavily on him by the time they had arrived at the small building, simply labeled in small, white letters "New Domino Baked Goods.”

Ryou had already purchased cream puffs and was eating them outside when Yugi and Katakuri arrived. Katakuri tried not to let his mouth water, as he thought about how close he was to acquiring donuts. Yugi ran to greet Ryou, who gave Yugi a hug as he got within range. Katakuri tried to distract his hungry belly by closely examining the other person, trying to figure out what was different to make Ryou a they.

However, this seemed to be a bit of a mystery. There wasn’t anything exceptionally different about them. Ryou was just another short person, with long white hair, and a flat chest. If Katakuri had seen Ryou at home, he’d have assumed Ryou was male. But, Ryou, evidently was not.

Katakuri’s hunger and frustration with the train of thought was making him cranky. He wanted to pound down the door to the store, grab as many sweets as he could, then escape through Burlee’s mirror. Money took so long to use. He forced himself to wait, remembering his promise to Pegasus when he was let out of jail. Stupid people and their PR. 

Impatient, he decided to pull out the pocket mirror and mime examining himself in it to give Brulee a heads-up that he was growing impatient. He needed to eat. Soon. She appeared in front of him and he sighed. “I just need to wait a moment for the rest of the food,” he murmured, head angled so that no cameras in the area would be the wiser to the woman he was speaking to. 

Brulee nodded, grinning widely. “Please have safe donuts and a tent ready when I get into the mirror,” he requested, and she agreed again.

The shop door opened and a bell rang to signal Yugi and Ryou leaving. They handed him several paper bags, and a few boxes of treats. He didn’t even listen as Yugi tried to give him his money back, or Ryou tried to ask him questions about where he came from. Instead, he simply thrust the mirror towards Yugi until he was holding it.

“Goodbye,” he announced to Yugi’s startled face. “Thank you.”

And then Brulee’s hands reached from the mirror, gripping the sides of his leather jacket, pulling him through the small surface in a convolution of physics. Yugi and Ryou were left staring at the street where Katakuri had stood in blinking confusion. Yugi yelled at the mirror, which appeared overly-large in his hands, that he hoped his trip was safe and it was good to meet him, Katakuri was barely listening. It was time to get away from the awful, tiny, cramped world with it’s omnipresent cameras, and eat.

[waywardnerd67]

TFWB - Chap 22 Life Changing Call

Summary:  Misha receives a phone call from a lawyer in his hometown about his aunt’s family. Characters: MIsha Collins, Molli Sanderson (OFC) Pairing: Misha x Molli (OFC) Warnings: Fluff/AU Word Count: 1869 Squared Filled: Adoption A/N #1: This is for @spnfluffbingo​ card

Check out: The Family We Built Masterlist

Misha waved goodbye to the Crazy Cat Ladies as they left their weekly class. Cleaning up the studio and closing up for the night. Molli would be there soon for their weekly TV catch up. He went to call in their weekly Chinese order when he noticed a voicemail waiting for him.

“Hello, this message is for Mr. Misha Collins. My name is Joe Walters and I’m a lawyer in Boston. I need you to call me back at 617-555-0820 concerning an important matter with your Aunt Abigail’s Will.”

“Hey babe,” Molli called out as he looked up wide eyed at her, “Misha what’s wrong?”

One Week Later

Being back in Boston was unnerving for Misha. Memories of not knowing where his next meal would come from and shelters they had lived in and out of. Molli wanted to go with him but she had finals coming up. He had insisted that she stay in Austin to study. His meeting was not for another hour and he decided to go to his favorite bakery from when he was a kid.

Walking into the law office reminded Misha of Jensen’s office building. Checking in with the receptionist, he was led into a small meeting room. Soon after a tall, balding man entered the room with a large folder.

“Hi Mr. Collins, I’m Joe it’s nice to meet you.”

He shook his hand, “Misha please, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Your Aunt Abigail was such a lovely woman and I’m sad she’s gone now.” Misha could see the genuineness of his statement.

“From what I can remember she was. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m here. I haven’t spoken to any of my family in years. I can’t imagine anything in her Will being for me.”

He watched as Joe opened the folder pulling out several sheets of paper, “Yes, Abigail had told me that when she made this change a few months before she passed. She had followed your success in Austin and volunteer work. She was proud of the work you have done and the man you grew to be.”

“That is quite surprising since I left the family when I was fifteen.” He scoffed leaning back into his chair.

Joe chuckled softly, “She always said you sailed on your own sails. Anyway, your cousin, Amy, fell into a rough crowd of drug users and Abigail was granted guardianship of her daughter, Zalyn. It was your Aunt’s wish for you to take over that guardianship and move Zalyn to Austin.”

He set, in front of Misha, Guardianship papers drawn up a month earlier naming him the new appointed guardian of the thirteen year old girl. On top of those, was a handwritten letter from his Aunt.

Misha,

If you’re reading this then I have passed and Joe has kept his promise of getting you to Boston. I know you left the family because of your mother’s decisions to keep a vagabond lifestyle. You wanted more from the world and the trails you went through as a child formed you into the wonderful man you are today. You followed your heart without fear or hesitation and against the grain of what your family wanted. I admire that about you and only wish I had done the same. Now, I want you to instill that on Zalyn’s young life. I see a lot of you in her and only wish I had the strength to take her to Austin myself for you to meet. She needs someone like you Misha. She needs to get away from Boston and cut the last tie holding her to her mother. You are the only one strong enough to do that for her. Only you can give her a family she needs and one day will appreciate when she is an adult. Please, Misha… not for love of family but for the love of a vulnerable human life. Please help Zalyn the way you helped yourself by getting far, far away from this family.

I’m so proud of you. Please remind Zalyn of how much I love her.

-Abigail Collins

He let out a shaky breath reading over the guardianship papers in front of him, “This says that my cousin gave up her parental rights a week ago.”

“Yes, Zalyn had gone to see Amy in rehab and it did not end well. Amy signed over her rights that day telling Zalyn she never wanted to see her again. Right now, she is staying with a foster family just outside of Boston. She will remain there until she is either adopted or ages out of the system.”

Misha ran his hand through his hair, “This is a lot to take in…”

Joe leaned forward, “I know it is, but time is of the essences. We will have to appear in court tomorrow morning to make this all official. I’m sure you would like to meet Zalyn as well so I arranged for her foster family to bring her after school at three-thirty.”

He looked at his phone seeing Molli’s smiling face, “So I have a few hours to think about a huge life changing decision. No pressure.”

“I know it is more than anyone should have to deal with. I will leave you alone please feel free to stay here until Zalyn comes. If you need anything just let my assistant know.” Joe got up heading to the door stopping before he walked through it, “Abigail, saved me from falling down a dark path. Helped me pay for law school and taught me valuable life lessons I will carry with me forever. I believe, as she did, you will do that for Zalyn.”

With that he walked out closing the door behind him. Misha laid his head down on his arms swallowing deep breaths to keep himself from vomiting. Resentment and rage flowed through him for a long lost family he left behind guilting him into this. As he looked through the file Joe had left he saw a picture of Zalyn. Her dark brown hair matching his own and she even inherited the Collins’ bright blue eyes. He looked to his phone again and knew the call he had to make.

“Hey Molli, well you’ll never believe what this was all about.” Misha started to explain the situation he was being presented.

Of course, Molli had been one hundred percent supportive of him becoming a guardian for the girl, “Misha you have too. I know how you feel about family but this may be her one shot to having a stable life. If you can help change her life for the better then there is no other course to take.”

“This isn’t like adopting a puppy. I would be adopting a thirteen year old girl. I have no idea how to raise a child let alone a teenager.” He was now pacing in the small room trying to reason his way out of this.

“Remember how hard it was for you as a teenager on your own? Do you want her to have that same fate? Plus you wouldn’t be raising her alone. You have all of us here to help you.”

Her logic was maddening and without thinking he said something he never thought he would, “Oh yeah because you’re old enough to raise a teenager. You’re barely ten years older than she is!”

An audible gasp echoed from his phone as he flopped down into his chair, “I didn’t… Molli…”

“You did mean it. You have a lot to think about and I have studying to do. Goodbye Misha.” She ended the call before he could say anything else.

Clutching his cell in his hand he threw it against the wall shattering it to pieces, “Fuck!” he yelled putting his head in his hands.

Misha looked down at the picture of Zalyn once again as Molli’s words echoed in his mind, “Do you want her to have that same fate?” He knew in that moment what he had to do.

The trip from Boston to Austin had been mostly silent. Misha was pulling up to his studio while Zalyn sat in the passenger seat with his earbuds in. He knew she would need space and time to work out what was going on. He only hoped that she would open up to him and they would be able to have some kind of normal relationship. On top of everything else, he had not spoken to Molli since the day he signed the adoption papers for Zalyn. He only hoped she would forgive him because he did not know if he could do this without her.

He carried Zalyn’s bags inside where he found his friends all waiting for him. Zalyn was caught off guard at first but quietly greeted each of the people he considered to be family.

Molli walked up last shaking Zalyn’s hand, “I’m Molli, it’s so nice to meet you. I can’t wait for us to get to know each other.”

Zalyn seemingly perked up seeing someone younger there. Molli placed her arm around her shoulders and led her into the studio to show her around. Watching them walk away, he did not see Rachel coming up beside him and punching his arm.

“Ow! What the…” he yelped holding his throbbing bicep.

“That is for making her cry. Make things right or you’ll get worse.” Rachel gently patted his cheek walking off towards Jared.

When everyone was up in his apartment and settled around the TV, Misha took the opportunity to have a moment alone with Molli in the kitchen. She was popping some popcorn on the stove and he could not help to stand admiring her. His heart ached as the overwhelming emptiness within him took his breath away.

“I’m sorry. I was an asshole and took it out on you. I’m sorry for what I said.” His voice trembled fearing she would accept his apology.

Molli turned around, closing the distance between them, “Don’t you ever belittle me because of my age again.” Her arms were wrapped around him as he buried his head into the crook of her neck.

“Never again beautiful, I promise. I’m truly sorry.”

She pulled away pressing her soft lips against his, “I know you are and we can talk about it more later. Right now, this is about welcoming Zalyn to Austin and showing her how our little family puts the fun in dysfunctional.”

Misha laughed helping to bring more snacks and drinks out. As he sat with Molli by his side and Zalyn sleeping against him, he realized that life would never get better than this.

***

(Y/N) smiled at her favorite photo of Misha, Molli and Zalyn from Molli’s college graduation. The young girl was the missing piece for their little family and everything came into place when she came to Austin. There had been several bumps in the road but looking out her window to see them all now had been worth it. Zalyn was graduating high school this upcoming year and planned to go to UT Austin for college. Following in Misha’s footsteps of being an studying art education to become a teacher.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd:  @waywardbaby​ @ladywinchester1967​ @akshi8278​ @ericaprice2008​ @deans-baby-momma​ @spnbaby-67​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @-lovepeacenhope-​ @destiel745​ @carribear31​ @srsllydunnodoncare​ @whimsicalrobots​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @starstruckzonkoperatorbat​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @bella-ca​ @drakelover78​ @imascio08​ @pisces-cutie​ @dwgrl1903-blog​ @mannls​ @the-salty-asian​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @xostephanie​ @superromijn​ @witch-of-letters​ @time-travel-bouqet​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @myinconnelly1​ @sister-winchesters99​ @thekatherinewinchester​ @maddiepants​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @sandlee44​ @destielhoneybee​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @stoneyggirl​ @supernaturalginger​ @emoryhemsworth​ @wednesdayismyfunday​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @atc74​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @casseythebee

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Of Poetry and Valentines

I’ve decided that even though I may not participate in every day of @ineffablehusbandsweek I might as well at least write a story for prompt #1.

1. Valentine’s Day -- (3,400 words)

Chocolate Love-A Cake.

Million Heart Cheesecake.

Mint-To-Be Chocolate Candies.

Some sort of cupcake simply titled Heart of the Batter.

Crowley had been standing in Aziraphale’s favorite bakery for over forty-five minutes. He’d stopped even trying to hold up the queue, which now simply flowed around him

Even the pastries without disgustingly twee names were covered in little frosting hearts and other nonsense. Not to mention all that pink.

“Are you ready to order yet?” asked the girl behind the till, handing yet another customer an absurdly elaborate confection that represented exactly six pounds and thirteen pence worth of I love you.

“Nh,” Crowley said, glancing at the coffee list. The flavors of the month started with Cupid Cappuccino and it went downhill fast from there. “Euh.”

“I’ll give you five more minutes,” she said, with far more chirpy good cheer than was strictly necessary.

--

The streets of Soho had been transformed. Paper hearts and cupids in every window; massive displays of roses, orchids, tulips and lilies spilled out in front of every shop, regardless of what they sold; even the nearest pub was covered in bright pink garlands and little red fairy lights.

Did no one in this district have even an ounce of self-respect?

Crowley stepped up to the Bentley and groaned. Someone had tied a red heart balloon to the wing mirror of every car on the street. Someone else had stuck little pink animal and flower shapes all over the windscreens.

The Bentley now sported a paper rabbit with Some bunny loves you! scrawled across it, as well as a large paper flower reading:

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Here’s a Valentine

Just for you!

He pulled them both off and shredded them to confetti, yet all the tiny pieces still managed to look like little hearts. The balloon he transformed into a pink-and-red football and kicked it as far down the street as he could.

Crowley slammed the door of the Bentley as he climbed in, and angrily shoved one of his favorite Wagner CDs into the player. Of course, what emerged was not the prelude to Das Rheingold but Queen’s “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.”

He slapped the radio off and glared at the dashboard. “Cut that out. I swear to Someone, if you even try and pull that on me today…”

Leaving the threat to hang in the air, he turned the radio back on and skipped to the second song, which was now “March of the Black Queen.”

“Better,” he muttered, and pulled away from the kerb.

--

Aziraphale had never taken to Valentine’s Day, no more than any other saint’s feast day, in any case. He hadn’t commented at all when, almost six centuries ago, it had been co-opted by certain European courts as a day of romance.

Crowley, on the other hand, dove right into it, reveled in it: the poetry, the elaborate tournaments, the sighing tales of courtly love. He was in his element.

After all, a celebration of love might be considered Heavenly, but a day devoted to pageantry and dramatic empty gestures? With an undercurrent of lust masked by a noble myth of pure adoration? That sounded downright demonic.

At least, that’s what he told Head Office. Humans, as always, did ninety percent of the work. Crowley simply observed and dropped a few well-placed suggestions. The poetry got worse, the eloquent love declarations more empty.

By 1800, the exchange of awful verse and sappy greetings in mid-February had become so entrenched in English society that printers had begun to mass-produce cards for the holiday. By 1835, thousands of Valentines – store bought or handmade – were sent through the post every year.

A few more whispered words into the right ears. In 1840, postal rates across the kingdom dropped, and the first postage stamp was introduced. The next February, four hundred thousand Valentines Day cards were mailed all around the country – and, thanks to the changes in the postal system, they could now be sent anonymously.

--

On the thirteenth of February, 1841, an envelope was delivered to A.Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop – there was no sender’s address, no salutation, just a number and street name, hastily scribbled. Inside was a simple piece of white card, covered enthusiastically but inexpertly with white lace; pasted in the center, framed by a heart, was a printed image, a bouquet of red roses and blue forget-me-nots. Below, a bit of gold ribbon surrounded a single word: Devotion.

“I don’t know, Angel,” Crowley grumbled when Aziraphale showed it to him. “Could be anyone. Could be one of your customers. Maybe one of them has a thing for rude shopkeepers.”

“I don’t think so,” Aziraphale said, turning the card over to study the pattern of the lace. “There’s something very familiar about it…”

“Familiar?” Crowley demanded sharply.

“I mean, the sender is being very familiar with the recipient. As if they’d known each other a long time.” He ran his finger across the single word. “Perhaps it was misdirected?”

“Nrg.” Crowley shrugged.

In 1842, another envelope arrived. This one held a pre-printed card, a single flower on a pink-and-gold background. A bright red heart, tucked behind a pink ribbon, carried the message:

Paeonia, symbol of happiness sublime

Wilt thou be my Valentine?

More pre-printed cards followed.

In 1843, two birds built a nest, filled with hearts instead of eggs.

In 1846, a couple strolling through a watercolor landscape under the words Valentine Greetings.

In 1849, a little girl in a white dress with a basket of roses, and the words With True Love.

In 1852, the angels started appearing. The first was surrounded by morning glories and gold filigree. Loving Greeting.

1853 brought back the lace and forget-me-nots, surrounding a winged figure wrapped in lace and gauze and little else. With Love and Devotion.

In 1854, a chubby cupid crossed a serene lake in a white-and-gold boat filled with pink roses; a line of white swans bridled with more roses pulled it along. Love’s Message to my Valentine.

“They’re just pre-printed messages,” Crowley pointed out in 1856. “They don’t mean anything. Whoever sent it probably just picked one that looked nice.”

“Oh, no, there’s real feeling behind it, I’m sure. Look at this.” It was the most elaborate yet: white lace, roses, hearts, a dove delivering a heart-covered envelope to a little angel, white ribbon framing a poem, tied in a perfect bow.

Crowley rolled his whole head in an exaggerated gesture. “Trying way too hard,” was all he said.

“Are you jealous?” Aziraphale asked with a grin.

“Jealous? What, that you get sappy misdirected mail? No, I’m fine without.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, studying first Crowley, then the card. “Sixteen years? Without missing one? Surely it must be intentional.”

“Angel, a million of those are sent every year. There has to be some mistakes in all that.”

“Perhaps you’re right…” His eyes ran across the poem one more time.

May this bow of white

Which gives delight

And which I send to you

A token be

Of love divine

Oh, will’t thou be

My Valentine?

“Truly horrible verse,” Crowley muttered. “Does that even scan?”

1857 saw the return of the hand-made cards. Skillfully cut paper, lace, ribbons, flowers – sometimes painted, sometimes embroidered onto linen. Pre-made pieces, painstakingly glued together with endearing imperfection. The messages were short, but hand-written: To My Star. Valentine Greeting. Love Always.

“They have different handwriting,” Crowley pointed out. “Different senders.”

“I suppose,” Aziraphale conceded. “Unless the sender is disguising their handwriting.”

“Wh-what? Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know. But look – all the ribbons are pasted on exactly the same way.”

Crowley squinted at three different cards. “I don’t see it,” he said flatly. “I think it’s your imagination. Do you want a secret admirer?”

“No,” Aziraphale started slowly, glancing at Crowley from the corner of his eyes. “No, on the whole I’d rather have an admirer I knew.”

“Mh. Why do you keep those, anyway?”

“Oh, I love a mystery.” Aziraphale felt the grin slide across his face. “Anonymous cards, mailed to my shop every Valentines Day for almost twenty years? Simply irresistible, wouldn’t you say?”

Crowley, apparently, had nothing at all to say.

In 1862, the poetry returned, pre-printed again but at least somewhat better verse. Around a watercolor that was possibly meant to depict Romeo and Juliet:

I may wander over land and sea

Pass many days away from thee

Yet my heart can never rove

From thee, my own, my love.

Aziraphale professed it was his favorite yet, but Crowley only scowled.

--

The greatest shock was the card that arrived in 1864.

Aziraphale had not expected anything that year. The envelope sat in his hands, as simple and anonymous as all the others. Inside, a heart-shaped card framing an almost embarrassingly cute cat.

This little kitten,

Valentine,

Has come to ask you

To be mine.

He suddenly realized he had made a grave miscalculation. If these cards were still arriving after…after certain recent developments…that could only mean…

Well. At least Crowley was no longer around to realize what a foolish conclusion he’d jumped to.

Another print arrived in 1865, a young lady holding a tulip to her nose.

Oh! Would I were the flower that sips

The honied kisses from your lips.

My Darling Valentine.

The card tumbled from his trembling fingers.

Why? Why did he even bother opening it? Why did he keep them even now?

Aziraphale grabbed all twenty-five Valentine’s Day cards and thrust them into a box. He found a spot on the highest shelf of the bookcase furthest from the door, tucked the box into a corner so gloomy even he could barely spot it. He was absolutely determined to forget any cards had ever arrived.

The envelope that arrived in 1866 was tucked, unopened, into a thick volume of Greek philosophy and pushed back onto a dusty shelf. Aziraphale swore no matter how many more arrived, he would never look.

But, as if a spell were broken, no more Valentines were delivered after that. And the last one remained unopened for over seventy-five years.

Until, two nights after a certain incident in a church, he found it again, hands shaking from the exertion of the search, from the unnamed emotions racing through him.

The card inside was gold and silver lace, simple yet elegant in a way he hadn’t remembered the others being. There was an earnest charm to the way the edges didn’t quite line up to the white paper underneath. In the center, a printed poem, surrounded by hand-painted flowers in more varieties than Aziraphale could name.

Valentine –

Fain would I guard thee through life’s desert drear

And fling around thee love to soothe and cheer

For thee I live might I but call thee mine

I’d be forever thy own Valentine.

He didn’t know how it was possible, but only one being in all Creation would send such a poem.

Aziraphale sat down on the floor of his shop. The tears he’d been holding in for two days finally began to fall.

--

After Crowley woke from his extended nap, he was disgusted to find how the holiday had spiraled out of control, how it only grew worse with every passing decade. Chocolates. Jewelry. Mass-market commercialization. It became a million-pound industry, and eventually a billion-pound one. Where once hopeful lovers could send a chintzy greeting card for a few pennies, the fools now spent a week’s pay – or more – on useless trinkets, somehow convinced it would ensure a return of affection.

And the engagements! The diamond rings, the elaborate proposals.

It was an absolute mockery of the cheap, empty exchange of sentiments he had spent so long cultivating. Was nothing sacred?

He was sure the Americans were to blame.

And yet now, when the holiday was devoid even of the anti-meaning Crowley had worked so hard to endow it with, now Aziraphale took notice? Now he began decorating his shop with angels even more absurd than the ones he usually collected? Now he put vases full of dried flowers on every table – roses and carnations and tulips in pink and red and white?

Every year, the traditions grew worse, yet Aziraphale only embraced the holiday more.

--

The Apocalypse had come and gone. The world had changed. For eight months they’d stood on the cusp of…something.

It was absurd. They each knew how the other felt – there was no denying it at this point – but somehow, after six thousand years, Crowley suddenly couldn’t find a way to say the words. Now it was Aziraphale waiting patiently on him, and if that wasn’t embarrassing, he didn’t know what was.

He just needed the right time. He’d hoped Valentine’s Day could be it.

But here it was, the fourteenth of February, and all Crowley felt was fed up. He couldn’t bring himself to buy the overpriced flowers, the punfully-named treats, even a racy gag gift (of which there was never any shortage in Soho). It just felt…empty.

He walked into the bookshop and prepared to disappoint his angel.

--

Aziraphale had set up a garland of sorts, too, but not paper flowers or bright red crepe paper. Across the two pillars nearest the door – where no one entering the shop could miss them, let alone Crowley – hanging from a string, were twenty-six Victorian Valentine’s Day cards.

Some were handmade – clumsy and uneven. Some were pre-printed – cheap, mass-produced. All were just a little tacky, but in the light of the shop, they seemed to glow with love.

“Ah! You’re here.” Aziraphale emerged with a pile of 19th-century romance novels, which he proceeded to arrange on the front table, to more easily chase customers away from them. “How do you like my decorating?”

“Oh. Uh. You. You kept those.”

“Naturally.” He didn’t even turn away from his task. “They were sent by someone very important to me.”

Crowley gulped. “You worked that out, then?”

“Yes, dear, in 1843.” Aziraphale chuckled, standing a copy of Wuthering Heights on the top of his display.

“Uh…Nh…” Crowley felt his face getting very warm. “You could have said –”

“I assumed, at the time, this was the beginning of some very elaborate prank on your part, and I was curious to see where it might go.”

“You – you said it was a mystery!”

“Yes, that was me playing along.” Satisfied with his display, Aziraphale turned back. “Now, if we’re finally going to talk about this, I do have a question.”

Crowley shoved his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet. No avoiding this, it seemed. “Fine. Right. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but it was…it was too much. Too big.” He looked at the ceiling as he talked, the walls, anywhere but at the angel who was now watching him with rapt attention. “You’d just reject it, and I didn’t want that kind of…y’know. So I just – I devalued what it means to say…that…on Valentine’s Day. Made it cheap and easy and meaningless so that when I told you, maybe it wouldn’t seem so big. Maybe you’d be able to accept it. Or at least maybe the rejection wouldn’t hurt as much.”

Soft footsteps across the floorboards, and Aziraphale’s hand on his cheek, drawing his face back down to meet that blue gaze.

“I know. I worked that out, oh, seventy years ago.”

“You what?”

“Once I understood how you felt, well, it seemed rather obvious. I also know why it never worked.”

Crowley hadn’t felt this completely lost since the night the world had almost ended. He reached up and grasped Aziraphale’s hand for balance. “Please…enlighten me.”

“Crowley, dear. A meaningless bit of frippery bought for a few pennies? A quiet I love you disguised as a joke? That’s not who you are. You need a big, grand show of affection, a blazing banner across the sky, or it won’t ever feel real to you. So even when I told you I liked the cards, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. The holiday was all wrong.”

“Thanks,” Crowley grumbled.

“Well, I was going to say something when you next sent me a card, only you never did. And so I, well, I decided to encourage the humans to, as you say, ‘go bigger.’ I thought you wouldn’t be able to resist a culture of grand romantic gestures. Only I’m not very subtle and it got rather out of hand.”

Behind his glasses, Crowley blinked.

“So…all – all that,” Crowley waved a hand at the window. “All that was you?”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled apologetically, though the bastard had probably never been sorry a day in his life. “The holiday generally, and also more specifically the state of Soho just now. I’ve been rather giddy lately and it seems to have gone contagious.”

Crowley thought of everything the day had come to mean – the heart-shaped sweets, the over-the-top dinners, flowers that cost as much as an outfit, jewelry that cost as much as a car. Piles of gifts of every description, sky-diving marriage proposals, holiday getaways to Paris or Florence or tiny cottages in snow-filled forests.

“Aziraphale,” he laughed, found he couldn’t stop laughing. “Angel! You…you made a whole holiday of big, stupid, over-the-top romantic gestures for me?”

“Only because you started it.” He slipped his arms around Crowley’s neck, pulling them together, resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder. “Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s hips, pressing their bodies close. The words he wanted to say danced on the edge of his tongue, waiting for the right moment.  Not yet, not yet. Instead he asked, “Didn’t you have a question?”

“Ah, yes. How did you do it?” Aziraphale pulled back enough to look up at his eyes. “The last three cards arrived while you were asleep.”

“Oh! That’s easy enough.” His hands found their way into Aziraphale’s and, without anyone needing to suggest it out loud, they walked together to the back room and the well-worn sofa, where a bottle of wine waited for them. “I didn’t want to lose my nerve, so I would buy and send the cards five at a time. I gave the post office instructions to mail them one per year. I told myself each time, ‘After the last card, I’ll say it out loud.’ But, well, I always wound up buying more cards.”

Aziaphale froze two steps away from the sofa. “Are you saying you haven’t bought me a Valentine since 1861? This is outrageous.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, flinging himself down and pulling Aziraphale after him. “Have you seen what passes for romantic verse these days? Pathetic. I’m not going to pay…five pounds or whatever it is for that nonsense.”

“Mmm.” Aziraphale shifted to lean against him, flashing another bastard smile. “I suppose the card selection has been disappointing lately. Still, an angel likes a little poetry now and again.”

“Poetry, is it?” Crowley pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside so he could meet that breathtaking blue gaze straight on. Caught one of Aziraphale’s hands and held it to his chest.

Women have loved before as I love now;

At least, in lively chronicles of the past –

Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow

Or Trojan waters by a Spartan mast

Much to their cost invaded – here and there,

Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest,

I find some woman bearing as I bear

Love like a burning city in the breast.

I think however that of all alive

I only in such utter, ancient way

Do suffer love; in me alone survive

The unregenerate passions of a day

When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread,

Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed.

“Oh,” Aziraphale murmured. “Well, that’s hardly appropriate for a card.”

Crowley tried to raise Aziraphale’s hand to his lips, but discovered he was shaking too much. “It’s – You’re probably right. But it’s how I’ve felt. For a very long time.”

Aziraphale pulled his hand back, then leaned in to softly brush his lips against Crowley’s. Hesitant. Shy. But when he finished, he didn’t pull back. Crowley could feel the trembling of Aziraphale’s breath, mirroring his own.

“I love you, too,” his angel whispered. “I hope you know that.”

-- end --

Inspired by the pastries at my local bakery, and by a conversation with @angel-and-serpent 

All the Victorian Valentines described are actual cards (I tried to do all vintage, but some may have been replicas/modern cards in “Victorian” style), slightly altered to be easier to describe. I also changed a word or two where the poetry was especially bad.

The final poem is by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I’ve said many times I default write the Husbands as asexual, but then Crowley goes and picks one of the sexy sonnets, so I guess interpret where things go from there as you see fit. (I’m ace myself and not going to try and deny the power of Millay’s sexy sonnets. Look at that thing. I become 5% more allo and 8% gayer every time I read it.)