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anonthenullifier · 4 years ago

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Alright, my headcanon/prompt that's been living in my mind rent free is the idea that Vision doesn't buy Wanda flowers, he buys her vases with sprouts on them, new life ready to grow. When he first heard of people gifting each other flowers he didn't fully understand why you would kill something, and make your loved one watch it slowly wilt away, when you could get them something they'd help survive. After watching so many loved ones die, I just think Wanda would be really touched to help something live and grow (just like her love for him blossoming)

I love this head canon so much. So damn much! I’ve written a story before (It’s About Thyme) that has them planting a garden and nurturing it as a way to mirror their relationship so to say I like to think about them with plants is an understatement. And then your gorgeous head canon looks at it in a way I never thought about and it’s perfect. Thank you for sharing it!

Here’s a little fic that came to mind as I was reading your ask. I hope you like it!

—

To say Vision is perplexed would be an understatement. Which is itself surprising because he has come to a tentative theory that to be human is to be irrational, and yet this, this crosses a line of reasoning he cannot begin to fathom. Typically he would have Wanda here to volley his concerns towards and to then explain in however many examples and phrasings that it takes for him to understand. Except he is here covertly, under the expert opinion of Sam, to procure a token of affection for all that Wanda provides him. Which brings him to a standstill of indecision waltzing along with a niggling horror at all the implications.

Luckily for him, he hopes, there is a sales associate close by. “Pardon me?” The man turns towards him, brown apron emblazoned with stitched on daisies and a name tag that reads Samuel, a fitting name since the other Samuel in Vision’s life suggested this course of questionable action. “I was advised that purchasing and gifting flowers is a socially appropriate way to convey affection.”

Samuel’s eyes squint for half a second, a common reaction whenever Vision goes out in public. “Uh, yeah. What does your special um,” this scanning over of Vision’s body is also common, uncomfortable, but he does his best to act unperturbed otherwise it might stoke potential fear into ire from his observer, “individual like? We’ve got roses, carnations, lilies, daisies, asters. Anything float your boat?”

If this decision were a boat it would be taking on waves at the moment. “But all of these have been removed from their roots.”

“Yeah, kinda the whole point of making a bouquet.”

The sass is not appreciated but Vision believes in remaining polite because the attitude of the man could be compounded with mistreatment from other customers or negative life events and not solely due to Vision’s inquiry. “Does that not mean they will wilt and die?”

Samuel does not share the distaste for this thought, a simple shrug and a rather unhelpful piece of advice given, “They all come with flower food, helps them stay fresh a bit longer.”

“I see.” Vision determines this issue may be best cogitated alone, so he sends a polite, tight lipped smile towards the man, “Thank you, Samuel.”

“Yep.”

The man leaves and Vision continues his stare down with the beautifully variegated display case in front of him. The differing colors and petal shapes form a kaleidoscope of awe, one that feels romantic and wispy and desirable. Except they will all wilt, the petals will curl up and fall to the ground, and within a week it will be in the trash. His love is not so brief, so fragile and he is perplexed as to why he would present Wanda with a token that cannot survive. Would it not imply his love will fade? That he will, even if fed her own love and passion and attention, eventually fall away from her? Even if she were to dry them out, like he has seen Laura do at the Barton farmhouse, it would require her to keep them someplace safe and to never touch them, the lifeless remnants too delicate and brittle for anything other than distant observation—a poor metaphor for his intended message.

Wanda has endured so much already, the memories as vivid as the Tiger Lily in front of him, days of listlessness and tears, evenings brimming over with invasive memories of all the deaths and all the pain, the only salves he could offer were strong arms and gentle reassurances. Why would he gift her something that will also die? Provide a further suggestion that her life must always be dictated by loss? Why would anyone, rational or not, believe temporal brevity a better show of love than something lasting?

Vision turns away from the bouquets, prepared to leave the store and find somewhere quiet to reassess his gift. It is this defeated swivel that brings a small display into his view, one tucked away as if it was an afterthought. On it are simple clay pots of various sizes, bags of potting soil heaped on the ground next to it, and a little table top rotating kiosk of seed packets awaiting to be planted and nurtured into a long and beautiful life. Vision’s lips curl up at the new idea in his head.

————

There is a subtle chime to her left, in the general vicinity of her door. It is the closest he ever gets to a knock. Wanda puts her book down and waits for the unmistakable gleam of vibranium and the glow of Vision’s phasing to come through the wall located mere inches from her fully functioning door. “Hey Vizh.”

He pauses, irises twisting rapidly to the left and lips puckered as if he’s been caught doing something wrong. Which would be not using her door and yet he still persists and still always makes this face, and it’s a welcome joy in her day. “Good afternoon, Wanda.” Unlike usual, his hands remain behind his back, pulling the threads of his synthetic sweater into a tension similar to his body. “I, um, brought you something.”

Hoping to ease his nerves, she shuffles to the side a bit and then pats the mattress, inviting him to come over and haltingly lower himself to the bed, body remaining twisted to hide whatever it is. “What is it?”

Slowly he brings his arms into view and in his right hand is a clay pot with a little seed packet inside, all wrapped up in a red bow, and in his left is clenched a small bag of soil. Wanda shares her gratitude with a smile, scarlet twining around the gifts and bringing them to her hands to inspect them closer. “I had been informed by a trusted associate that flowers are considered the socially acceptable gift for conveying affection.”

Gently, soothingly she offers a minor correction, knowing he doesn't like to be embarrassed by misinterpreting social advice. “Usually they mean a bouquet.”

A grave nod accompanies his, “I am aware.” Vision lifts his hand, waving it around to help usher out the full story, “But it seemed incongruous to provide you a fleeting gift for a sentiment that is not so,” he hesitates, maybe because he realizes the implication himself or because he can see it in the growing smile on her face, either way he’s committed to the admission of how long he sees this new relationship going and she’s hoping he won’t back down now. And he doesn’t, even if he stammers through it. “brief. I would rather my affections be shown in an appropriately long lasting form.”

Experiencing the fascinating way his mind works is always a pleasure and, due to listening to him and learning the way he thinks and feels, she understands it perfectly, feels a deep, warming thankfulness at this chance to play a hand in allowing something to live and grow, a chance she’s been denied so much before. Wanda ropes him closer with her powers and firmly plants a kiss to his nervous smile. “Thank you.” She unwraps the bow and studies the picture of a happy sunflower, a little confused. “I didn’t think these were indoor plants.”

“Oh well,” now that an explanation that is not tied to emotions is needed, he loosens up, “they are meant to be started and nurtured indoors and then, once large enough, can be moved outside or to a greenhouse.”

“Do we have a greenhouse here?”

Vision considers this, lips parted as his thoughts tick away. “Well no, but it could be enjoyable to convert one of the older equipment sheds into such a structure so we could have a year round garden.”

This simple gift blossoms into something bigger, something rooted in a hope for a future together. “I think it would be fun.”

“Yes,” Vision slips back into a slight, carefully paced cadence, “I selected this particular flower because it is often symbolic of adoration, loyalty and um,” he acts as if his actions have not already made it clear, as if his words should be a surprise, one he isn’t certain she’ll like, “longevity.”

Wanda offers a sunny smile, hoping to sear away any question as to her appreciation and reciprocal feelings, “I love it.” An equally exuberant curve forms on his lips. “Want to help me plant it?”

His instantaneous and joyful, “Of course,” is all it takes to settle them into a path towards a life and love they’ll nurture together.

#scarlet vision #wandavision #Wanda maximoff #vision #mine #ask anon #I was supposed to be writing something else today

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ashyblondwaves · 4 years ago

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Just Ask Her (Part 2)

Part 1 can be found here. Also posted to AO3.

There were ingredients everywhere. Fresh green beans and artichokes, chicken and lemons. All in disarray. It certainly looked much easier on television, when all the ingredients were already prepared and measured. All the host had to do was dump them in a pan. Vision realized he wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t have a behind the scenes team to prepare his ingredients for him. It was all up to him.

“That should be everything,” Tony said, putting the last of the canvas grocery bags in the kitchen drawer. “Before you ask, candles are already in holders in the dining room. Left you some matches too and I told the team the kitchen and dining room were reserved for you tonight. If they want food they can go out and get it. They should leave you alone.”

Vision stared at Tony, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. “Mr. Stark, you’ve done far more than I asked and I don’t know how to thank you for that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, nonchalantly. “Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you. I gotta go, I’m taking Pepper out to dinner tonight. You got it from here?”

“I hope so,” Vision replied, reaching for the bundle of green beans. He looked at the long stems coming from them. “I guess this is what I trim then?”

Tony nodded, looking at Vision almost sympathetically. “Yeah, just get rid of those stems. I used to do that all the time as a kid. It’s actually really cathartic. Try it, just snap off the end.”

Vision plucked a green bean from the bundle and held it between his fingers, using his other hand to bend the stemmed end. With a satisfying crack, the bean was trimmed.

“Magic,” Tony said, waving his hands through the air. “Alright! I have to go.” He moved around the kitchen quickly, yelling over his shoulder as he left. “Good luck, you’ll be fine. I’d tell you not to do anything I wouldn’t but that wouldn’t be very fun!” With a slam of the door, he was gone.

Vision stared down at the ingredients once more, quickly forming a plan to tackle it all. He didn’t hear Wanda pad into the kitchen.

“Vis?” She asked gently. “I hope I’m not underdressed for the occasion.”

When Vision looked up, all he saw was Wanda standing in front of him. She’d changed out of the clothes she went shopping in and was now wearing a soft, gray sweater that hung off her frame in all the right places. Vision couldn’t help but notice the soft skin of her shoulder peeking out from the lush fabric. With it, she wore a pair of black leggings that hugged her legs so perfectly it almost felt wrong to look at them. Her feet were bare. She looked perfect. Truth be told, according to Vision, she could have worn a potato sack and still looked perfect.

“You look stunning,” Vision said, snapping a green bean and dropping it into a bowl. “Dress codes aren’t implemented in my kitchen.”

“I didn’t realize this was your kitchen now,” Wanda laughed, walking closer to the kitchen island. “Is there anything I could help you with?”

With a sigh, Vision gave in.

“Normally, I wouldn’t dream of asking you to help prepare your own meal,” he said, looking down at everything still in disarray. “But would you be willing to finish trimming these beans so I can work on the artichokes? I’m afraid my knife skills leave a lot to be desired. I can chop ingredients easily, but the finesse required for this part may take awhile.”

“Of course,” Wanda said, hopping up onto a stool at the island and sliding the bowl of trimmed beans in her direction. “I know you want to do this on your own, but it’s ok to ask for help. Besides, I’ve always liked the idea of cooking a meal with my…” she trailed off for just a moment before finishing her sentence. “Friend.”

Vision couldn’t explain it, but the slip in words gave him a jolt of confidence that the night wasn’t going to be a complete disaster. She almost said boyfriend, he thought, smiling to himself as he grabbed a knife from the drawer and set the oven to 425. They were on the same page. They had to be.

They worked in silence for the next few minutes as Vision broke down the first artichoke, peeling away leaf after leaf in search of this so-called heart.

“It seems very wasteful to buy all these artichokes just to use one piece of it,” Vision said, pulling another leaf from the vegetable.

Wanda looked at Vision with sympathetic eyes. “I’m pretty sure they sell cans of artichoke hearts you could’ve used.”

“I certainly wish that chef on the show I watched had mentioned that,” Vision said, looking down at the mess of artichoke parts in front of him. “At least I know now.”

“Wait,” Wanda paused, green bean in hand. “You watched cooking shows for this?”

Vision nodded. “I wanted to be a little more prepared for the task than I was last time. But it appears I’ve hit my first obstacle.”

“This’ll be fine, Vis,” Wanda said, pushing the bowl of finished green beans away. “Give me a few of those artichokes.”

They tackled the artichokes together in companionable silence until each one had been stripped down to the heart.

“Thank you,” Vision said gratefully. As he spoke he tossed some thyme onto a baking sheet with the green beans and started with the seasoning. “That went much faster than if I’d done it all myself.”

The rest of the cooking went surprisingly smooth once the artichokes were on the baking sheet with the green beans and in the oven. Vision moved swiftly through the kitchen, grabbing a skillet for the chicken and quietly seasoning it and browning it.

“Okay,” Vision said with a relaxed sigh. “Lemon, please!”

“Here’s your lemon, sir!” Wanda played along, plucking the lemon from the countertop and handing it to Vision, who cut the lemon in half and placed the halves in the skillet with the chicken. To finish it off, he added the rest of the thyme and put the skillet in the oven.

The finishing touches were easy. It was just a matter of combining everything into one dish. Tossing in a little more parmesan, Vision plated Wanda’s meal and stood in front of it proudly.

“Let’s hope it tastes as good as it looks,” Vision said. “Follow me to the dining room?”

The dining room was dimly lit, the candles arranged on the table in such a way that it gave the illusion that the table was smaller; just enough for two people on a date rather than the large and luxurious piece of furniture it really was.

“Here you go,” Vision said, setting the plate down and pulling out a chair for Wanda. “Dinner is served.”

As Wanda settled in with her meal, Vision lit the candles. They flickered, casting a beautiful dusky glow throughout the room. Vision sat quietly across from Wanda, watching nervously as she took her first bite.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, nodding enthusiastically as she finished her bite. “Vis, this is really good. Really good.”

A swell of pride filled Vision’s senses. “Thank you,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I should be thanking you,” Wanda replied, finishing another bite. “I would have been ok with Mac and Cheese out of the box. But this is absolutely delicious. Thank you, Vision.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like days, smiles wide on both of their faces. Now, Vision thought. It was time to ask her.

“Could I get you something to drink?”

No! Wrong question.

“I’m okay for now,” Wanda said, cutting into her chicken. “But a nice glass of chardonnay after this will hit the spot.”

Vision nodded, taking note of Wanda’s request. But now was not the time to discuss an after dinner wine. If he didn’t ask her now, he was afraid he never would and they’d spend the rest of their time together dancing around the idea of being something more.

“Wanda,” Vision started, steeling himself for what he was about to say. “As you know, I regard our friendship very highly. Getting to know you has helped me learn so many things. Happiness, sadness, laughter but most importantly.. love.”

By now, Wanda had stopped eating her meal. She clutched her fork in her right hand, eyes wide and body at attention as Vision continued.

“Please stop me if you think I’m overstepping any boundaries,” he said. “But I get this feeling that there may be more between us that we’ve yet to talk about, let alone explore. Is that something you feel, too?”

Wanda stayed silent and Vision immediately wondered if he’d said something wrong. Had he made her feel obligated to say yes? Maybe a meal wasn’t the right idea after all.

“You can tell me,” Vision assured her, resisting the urge to reach out for her hand, just in case. “No matter the answer.”

With a shaky breath, Wanda finally answered.

“So much that sometimes it almost hurts,” she admitted. “Just being near you brings me so much comfort. But I’ve been wondering what it could be like between us.. as more than friends.”

“I’d really like to find out,” Vision said, finally reaching across the table and taking Wanda’s hand. “This game we’ve been playing..”

Wanda shook her head. “It’s not working anymore. Maybe it never did.”

“I think we were just fooling ourselves,” Vision agreed. “And wasting time where we could have been together.”

“Soo..” Wanda urged, running her thumb over Vison’s hand. “Are we done wasting time?”

“We are done wasting time.”

They shared a quick smile as Wanda picked her fork back up and dug into the rest of her food and continued on in silence back to the kitchen to clean up the cooking aftermath.

“TV in my room when we’re done?” Wanda asked, scrubbing her plate at the sink. It’d become a nightly routine with them, but she still always made sure to ask him and let him know he was welcome to join her.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Vision said over his shoulder. He tackled the mess of artichokes before joining Wanda at the sink to finish the dishes.

“Hi,” Wanda said coyly, bumping Vision’s side with her shoulder playfully.

There was a sense of relief between them now. One that finally allowed them to do all the little things that they’d been skirting around for months for fear that it would escalate into something they weren’t ready for.

“Oh,” Vision said, pretending he hadn’t seen Wanda next to him. He scooped up some bubbles from the sink and flicked them in Wanda’s direction. “Hello.”

Wanda laughed a genuine, hearty laugh -- one that Vision had never heard before -- and returned the favor, spraying bubbles all over Vision’s sweater before turning the sink’s sprayer on him.

“Unfair advantage!” Vision yelled, trying to shield himself with his arms. “Unfair advantage!”

“Don’t start what you can’t finish,” Wanda teased, releasing the button on the sprayer and setting it back in its place. “You may have to take that sweater off.”

Vision narrowed his eyes at Wanda, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, ready to play along. “You certainly don’t expect me to do that here in the middle of the kitchen, right?”

“Nooo. I wouldn’t dream of it,” Wanda hummed. “You can take it off in my room.”

Wanda grabbed Vision’s hand and pulled him down the hallway with her toward the bedroom. Once inside she closed and locked the door, sending Vision’s thoughts reeling. They always closed the door but never did they lock it. Tonight was going to be different.

“Before I take this off,” Vision said, toying with the hem of the sweater. “Can I kiss you first? I realize I should have kissed you twenty minutes ago in the dining room and I didn’t, which was foolish.”

Wanda took a step forward, nodding her approval.

Vision took Wanda’s hands in his and pulled her close until their bodies were touching. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, feeling Wanda’s body melt against his. There were no fireworks, no fanfare, but something stirred deep inside Vision that kept him rooted to the spot, lips working against Wanda’s. As far as first kisses go, Vision didn’t think he did half bad.

When they finally parted, Vision pressed his forehead to Wanda’s, whispering his next sentence.

“I’ve wanted to do that for far too long.”

Wanda sighed and closed her eyes, letting her hands wander underneath Vision’s wet sweater. She ran her hands along the unique combination of vibranium and skin, feeling it contract as her hands roamed. Soon, Vision’s hands were at the hem of his sweater again, pulling it up and over his head in one quick motion and without a word, he kissed her again.

They moved toward the bed, movements clunky but effective and climbed in. Vision went to his usual spot at the head of the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and watched as Wanda hung back just for a moment. In that quick moment, she pulled her own sweater off, leaving her in just a bra and her leggings.

“I wanted to join you,” she said, shrugging at Vision’s surprised look.

Without another word, she crawled across the bed and toward Vision, straddling his hips when she reached him. She took his face in her hands and kissed him, bucking her hips so her middle rubbed against him.

“Can you feel that?” Wanda asked, grinding against him again, lips grazing against his with each word. “Does that do anything for you?”

“Yes,” Vision groaned. “Keep going.”

Wanda didn’t need to be told twice. She continued her movements, smiling against Vision’s lips when she started to feel him even more between her legs. She wasn’t sure if it’d work. If it was something Vision was even capable of, but with each snap of her hips he groaned a little more and grew a little harder underneath her.

They spent their night taking turns on each other. Exploring, teasing, tasting. Learning what combination of hands, fingers and tongues made them come undone the most.

As they lay in bed, naked and sated for the moment Vision remembered something Wanda had said earlier in the night. He propped himself up on his elbow and asked her the question.

“Did you still want that chardonnay?”

#scarletvision #scarletvision fics #wandavision #wandavision fics #wanda maximoff #vision #wanda x vision #fanfiction #i write shit #just ask her #apologies if this is terrible #I cannot be held responsible for what I write at the wee hours of the morning lol

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aster-aspera · 4 years ago

Text

One love, one house

CW: food mention, loads of fluff

Relationships: romantic DLAMP

Chapter title is from sweater weather by the neighbourhood

read on ao3

Masterlist for my superhero AU

Patton loved his roommate, he really did, but he was just a little eccentric. Patton could deal with the sneaking in at hellish hours in the early morning, and the mud he tracked into the appartement and the faint smell of antiseptic and blood that was always present in their bathroom.

He could even deal with his roommate occasionally forgetting his tasks or even disappearing for days on end.

But this was just unacceptable. Patton stood in front of a near empty fridge, only a refrigerated tupperware full of noodles and a jar of pickles left.

“Virgil?” He called.

His roommate looked up at him from under his messy bangs, dark circles that seemed to take up half of his face under his eyes. He really should stop sneaking out at night. Patton had hoped he would have gotten more sleep during the holidays, but it seemed his roommate was determined to work himself into an early grave.

“What have you been eating?” He asked, pointing to the fridge.

Virgil gaped at him for a moment as the question made its way into his sleep deprived brain.

“Uhm, noodles?” He said, sounding unsure of himself.

“Just noodles?”

“And pickles, I guess.”

“During the holiday season?”

“Yes?”

Patton sighed. Virgil just continued staring at him, seemingly unaware of why Patton was so upset.

“You did eat something other than noodles on Christmas, right?” He asked, his voice edging on desperation.

“I dunno, when was Christmas?”

Patton snapped.

“Nope, this is unacceptable. I don’t care if you celebrate or not, but you should at least eat something.”

“I ate.” Virgil grumbled.

“Noodles!” Patton interjected.

“And it’s not like I had a lot of time on my hands to cook an elaborate meal.”

“One, it’s not that hard to throw some vegetables into a wok and two, what are you even doing during the holidays, it’s not like we have classes.”

Virgil looked down.

“Studying.” He mumbled.

“More like studying , with the way you look.”

“I don’t look that bad.”

“You look like a corpse, a cute corpse, but still a corpse.”

Virgil flushed and Patton had to fight not to coo. He was just so cute.

“Whatever, are you free tonight?” He continued.

“Uhh, sure? I have something at 11 though.”

“That’s fine, I’m cooking you dinner tonight and we’re going to have a little holiday celebration.”

“Patton, I don’t really celebrate Christmas.”

“It’s not about Christmas. I just want to have a nice night with my friend and while I’m at it, I want to make sure you’re eating something for once.”

“Ok, fine. We’ll have a holiday celebration.” Virgil groaned, but he didn’t seem totally against the idea.

Patton cheered.

“Okay, I’m going to pop over to the store first. We’ll need ingredients.”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to bother yourself too much.”

“Nonsense, I love cooking for others. Also, we’re all out of food except noodles, so I’d have to go shopping anyways.”

Virgil had the decency to look mildly guilty at that.

Virgil accompanied him to the store. Which, unlike Patton had expected, did not speed up the shopping process, but only slowed them down as they fooled around.

“Okay, okay. Let's get this done quickly, thyme is money.” Patton said, waggling his eyebrows at Virgil.

“What the hell am I doughing here.” Virgil groaned.

Patton gasped. “You made a pun!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah well, don’t expect too many of those. I wouldn’t want to oatverdo it.”

Patton gasped in delight.

“The s’more puns you make, the s’more i love you.” He proclaimed and Virgil blushed beet red.

Patton giggled as he looked at Virgil having fun. His roommate was usually a lot more reserved and morose. He had no idea what had happened that had put Virgil in such high spirits, but whatever it was, Patton was grateful. The smile that graced Virgil’s face was the most breathtaking thing he had seen all week.

Patton looked away, aware he had been staring just a little too long.

The meal was delicious, if he said so himself, and Virgil seemed to agree. He lounged back in his chair languidly, sleepy from the good food. He looked better than Patton had seen him all month. The colour had returned to his cheeks again and his eyes sparkled.

Patton silently congratulated himself on a job well done.

“That was great, Pat. Seriously.”

“I’m humbled by your compliments.”

Virgil smiled.

“Where did you even learn how to cook like this?”

“My moms taught me. They made sure to teach me all the basic survival skills like cooking, laundry and how to snare and skin rabbits.”

“Snare rabbits?” Virgil laughed.

“I lived in a forest, I had to be able to take care of myself. They taught me all kinds of other cool survival stuff too.”

“Nice, my mom barely taught me how to turn on a stove.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Virgil waved him away. “My parents just had other priorities in my upbringing. Maybe you could teach me to cook something other than pasta?”

“I’d love to.” Getting to cook and spend more time with Virgil? It sounded like heaven to Patton.

Virgil looked at the clock and suddenly shot up.

“Shit, I have to go. I’m sorry. Thanks for the food, Patton.”

“It’s fine. Anytime.” Patton watched him leave with an empty feeling in his stomach.

He didn’t mind his roommate’s odd habits, but sometimes he wished he didn’t always run off.

Patton had to be honest, when Virgil had first told him about his boyfriends, he had been quite shocked.

Not because of the boyfriends, plural. Patton was pretty sure he was polyamorous himself.

No, it was the fact that quiet, shy, reserved Virgil, the guy who Patton had never seen interact with anyone except Patton, had somehow gotten himself not one, but two boyfriends.

And yeah, maybe he did feel a sharp stab of jealousy when Virgil first told him. He wondered how his boyfriends had gotten him to realize they wanted to date him. Patton had been trying to make his feelings clear for months now and was almost convinced Virgil was aromantic.

They must have yelled something along the lines of “We have romantic feelings for you” to get through that thick skull of his.

Patton didn’t resent Virgil for dating them, he was happy for him. Virgil really needed something good in his life.

And now, here he was, cooking up an elaborate meal for Virgil’s boyfriends.

When Virgil had told him about his boyfriends and the fact that they had been going steady for a while, Patton had insisted they come over for dinner sometime.

“I have to make sure they’re not going to break my best friend’s heart.” He had argued.

Virgil had complained at that, but his boyfriends had agreed and a date had been fixed.

Patton had maybe gone a little overboard with the meal. Two curries stewed on the stove and he was just about to throw the homemade falafel into the pan. In the oven, naans he had made from scratch were baking.

He hoped they liked Indian.

Virgil let his boyfriends into the appartement and wow, they were hot.

One of them, the shorter of the two, beamed at him, his smile perfectly blinding, and walked over to him.

“Hello, you must be the charming Patton I’ve heard so much about.” He said with a theatrical bow.

The taller one walked over to them with a more reserved smile.

“I’m Logan and this character here is Roman. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Virgil has told us a lot about you.” He stuck out his hand.

“Really, he has?” Patton felt a warm glow at that knowledge.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too.” He continued.

“So you’re the one who’s been keeping our Virgil alive?” Roman asked him.

“What?” Patton asked.

“V has a lot of skills, basic self care isn’t one of them.” Roman clarified.

“We’re happy he has such a good friend.” Logan added.

“Well, I’m happy to take care of him. But, yeah, self care isn’t one of his skills.”

“As much as I appreciate you guys bonding, I can take care of myself.” Virgil interjected.

“Debatable.” Logan said.

Roman seemed to have noticed the food bubbling on the stove by now.

“Ooh, indian.” He exclaimed.

“It smells good.” Logan complimented.

“Well, it’s nearly done, so get seated and I’ll bring the food over.”

“You guys are in for a treat. Pat’s the best cook I know.” Virgil informed them.

Patton blushed at the high praise.

“I must say I’m intrigued.” Logan said, while taking a seat at the table.

Patton turned off the stove and added a few leaves of coriander before carrying the dishes over to the table.

“Do you need a hand? It looks like a lot.” Roman offered.

Finally, with Roman’s help, the table was set and they all dug in, dipping their naans into the curries Patton had made.

Roman moaned theatrically.

“God, this is just heavenly.” He praised.

“It’s great Patton.” Virgil offered.

“Yes, it is quite splendid. What spices did you use?” Logan asked him.

“Well, this one has chilli powder...”

“I can taste that.” Virgil grumbled.

“Turmeric, cumin and coriander and the other one has bay leaves, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves and more chilli powder.”

“That’s a lot of spices.” Roman said.

“That’s the secret to Indian cooking, the things they can do with spices is just magical.” Patton replied.

They talked more.

Logan told him he was studying theoretical physics at the university where Virgil also studied.

“Wow, theoretical physics. Isn’t that like black holes and stuff?” Patton asked, intrigued.

“Oh boy, don’t get him started.” Virgil muttered.

Logan paid him no mind.

“That’s one aspect but it’s also so much more. It touches on all aspects of our lives.” With that Logan launched into an impassioned speech about all the things theoretical physics touched on and the different aspects of it.

Patton didn’t understand everything he was going on about, physics hadn’t been his best subject in school, but he enjoyed listening to Logan all the same. He had a way of speaking that drew you in. It was clear he really enjoyed the subject he was studying. Patton felt like he could listen to Logan for hours on end. A glance at the others told him they felt the same way, both of them staring at him with fond expressions.

“I apologise. I was rambling again, I have been told I have a tendency to do that.” Logan cut himself off.

“What? There’s nothing to apologize for, it was really fascinating.”

Logan smiled softly but didn’t go on. An awkward silence fell over the table.

“So!” Patton piped up brightly. “What do you do, Roman?”

“I’m studying to become a nurse actually.”

“Really? cool!”

They chatted about all kinds of things. Roman complained about the amount of things he had to learn. Logan told him it was nothing compared to what he had to study. Virgil lamented about annoying professors. And Patton listened, feeling a little like an intruder but a part of it all the same.

They complemented each other perfectly. Patton had no idea how they had met or what made them such a good team, but it must be something wonderful indeed.

In that moment, Patton wished so fervently he could be a part of it. He barely knew Logan and Roman and yet he could feel himself falling for them even now.

They didn’t seem to mind him being there, roping him into the conversation easily.

Logan smiled at him from across the table and Roman slung an arm over his shoulder, laughing at one of his puns.

Virgil was just getting up to refill the water jug, when an alert on his phone went off. All three of them jumped up.

“We have to leave.” Logan said, looking at his phone.

“Shit, I’m so sorry Patton.” Virgil repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time. It felt like whenever Patton was finally making progress in his relationship, something interrupted.

He didn’t mind the weird habits, he just wished he would let him in on his secrets. Hadn’t he proved his trustworthiness to Virgil?

They left him with the dishes and an empty feeling in his chest.

Roman, Virgil and Logan sat at the dinner table while Patton busied himself in the kitchen, finding comfort in the familiar routine of cooking. A tense silence filled the usually cozy apartment.

“How long have you known?” Logan asked finally.

Patton looked at Virgil when he answered.

“Probably since the first month.”

Virgil stammered. “I thought…”

“You thought what Virgil? That I didn’t notice you sneaking in at five in the morning? That I didn’t notice that whenever you ran off during dinner, Storm was suddenly on the news? That I didn't notice all the cuts and bruises you collected? You thought, what? That I was stupid? Blind? Deaf?” He knew he was being unfair, the others looked tired and miserable and guilty. But all his frustration at being left in the dark for years was bubbling over.

He was so tired of being treated as stupid, of being left behind when the others had to attend to hero bussiness. He was tired of lying awake worrying about them.

Patton returned to chopping the leeks with more force than absolutely necessary.

“We wanted to protect you.” Logan said, guilt colouring his voice.

“I don’t need your protection. I think you saw that tonight.”

“Yes, we were wrong. I realize that now. We apologize”

“I don’t.” Virgil said.

Patton stared at him. “What?”

Virgil stood up and faced him. “I’m sorry about lying to you, but I won’t apologize for trying to protect you. It’s bad enough these two are out on the streets, I don’t need another untrained civilian risking their life.” Virgil gestured at Roman and Logan, who didn’t look happy about being called untrained.

Patton laughed bitterly. “I’m not untrained, that much should be clear. And what makes you so trained then?”

Virgil sighed.

“When I said my parents had other priorities in my upbringing, I meant it. Instead of learning maths and chemistry, I learnt how to fight, how to take down a grown man, how to disappear into the shadows.”

“Why?” Patton asked, he was aware Virgil hadn’t had the most traditional upbringing, but this wasn’t what he had expected.

“I was to be an assassin, but the company we worked for disbanded and my mom decided to give me a normal life.” He explained coldy, it was clear there was more there, but Patton decided now was not the best time to ask.

They were all tired from the events of the evening and Patton really just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for another week. All his anger at his friends keeping him in the dark had faded, leaving him with just his exhaustion.

He turned back to the quiche he was making, with store bought dough, his mom would be shocked, and slid it into the oven.

“I’m just happy you guys are alright.” He said, extending an olive branch.

“Well, we were lucky our valiant knight in shining armour came to our rescue.” Roman said, his voice lacking his usual flamboyance.

Patton sat down next to Virgil and laid his head on his shoulder. Virgil wrapped his arm around him.

“You guys are lucky I knew where you were.”

“Yeah, how did you do that? Do you have us micro-chipped or something?” Roman questioned.

Patton just smiled mysteriously.

Patton popped his head into their bedroom, where Janus was talking into a phone. Patton listened for a moment as Janus talked to someone in rapid fire French, sounding mildly irritated.

He noticed Patton standing in the doorway and held up a hand signaling he would be done soon. He rolled his eyes and mouthed “Grandmother” at him.

Patton stifled a giggle. Janus’s grandmother was notoriously difficult.

“Oui, oui mémé, je promets.”

He put down the phone with a sigh.

“Why is she like this?” He sighed in exasperation.

Patton wrapped his arms around Janus’s waist and nuzzled into his neck.

“It’s ‘cause she loves you, honeybee.”

“Loves to annoy me, more like. Anyways, did you need something, mon cœur ?”

“Yeah, you said you’d help with dinner?”

“Course, give me a minute, I’m coming.”

“I’ll go peel the potatoes.” Patton bounced down the stairs.

On the couch, Logan and Roman were attempting to watch a period drama, keyword, attempting.

They were currently critiquing the costumes in the show, Roman in particular was raving about corsets on bare skin.

Patton smiled, he loved them both very much, but watching a movie or show with them was nearly impossible. They both had trouble keeping their thoughts to themselves.

“Having fun?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to Roman’s forehead.

“Corsets on bare skin, Patton! What is wrong with them?” Roman flung his hands up, nearly knocking Patton’s glasses off.

“Whoops, sorry.” He apologized.

Patton kissed him again and gave Logan a quick side hug.

“You guys enjoy, I’m going to get started on dinner.”

“I highly doubt I will be able to enjoy it, considering all the mistakes in the writing and costuming.” Logan muttered.

Janus joined him in making dinner and together they worked efficiently. Janus was a great cook and a good help in the kitchen. Together, they managed to make something good without getting in each others’ way too much.

Janus put on an old timey jazz song and as the food sizzled on the stove, they slowed gently in the kitchen.

The door opened and Virgil blew in with a gust of cold air. He groaned as he dropped his bag on the floor.

“Everything all right, mon amour?” Janus questioned.

“Just tired, training was hard today.” Virgil sighed.

“Yeah, I see. Go take a shower.” Janus wrinkled his nose.

Virgil made to kiss Janus but he warded him off.

“Go shower first.” He instructed.

“I want a kiss.” Virgil whined.

“I’ll give you a kiss.” Patton said.

“Don’t enable him.” Janus groaned but he pressed a quick kiss to Virgil’s nose.

Patton drew Virgil in for a soft, gentle one and then pushed him in the direction of the shower.

“Go. Food’s nearly done.”

Right on cue, Roman bounced into the kitchen, Logan trailing behind him.

“Food’s ready?” He asked.

“Not yet. Will you guys set the table?” Patton asked.

As busy clattering filled the kitchen, Patton felt a smile slip onto his lips. Janus noticed and wrapped his arms around him.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered into his ear.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

“Yeah, we really are.” He sighed.

They smiled as Virgil entered the kitchen and promptly got wrapped up in a hug from Roman.

#sander sides #patton sanders #ts patton #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #janus sanders #ts janus #dlamp #romantic dlamp #ts dlamp #tw food mention #superhero au #ts superhero au #my writing #sanders sides fic

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ronninoir · 4 years ago

Text

Can I Steal You For A Second Chapter 35

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self.

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning Chp 1 on AO3

“Oh, good you’re back,” was Victoria’s friendly response as Marinette walked through the door of the mansion. Lucie was quickly summoned and Victoria tapped her handy-dandy clipboard officially. “I just wanted to sit down with you two to let you know what the next 3 days will look like.”

“Three days?” Marinette blanched. She had thought that tomorrow was the day Adrien would propose.

“I thought all we had left was the proposal!” Lucie added, clearly as shocked as Marinette.

“No,” was Victoria’s answer, not even bothering to glance up from her clipboard. “You each have one more date with Adrien before he makes his final decision. Tomorrow, Marinette will go on her date, then Lucie will go on hers. Finally, Adrien will propose once he knows who he is going to pick. That could last as long as Adrien needs, but you will be alerted the day that it is happening.” Lucie and Marinette just looked at each other and both girls looked slightly fearful that the last leg of their journey could take so long.

“Just so you two are aware,” Victoria continued, still completely unaware of anything except her clipboard. “professionals will be brought in to do your hair and make-up for the proposal, to make sure you are both looking your best for the final episode. From there, whoever Adrien chooses will reconnect with me for your next steps.” Victoria finally looked up and gave both girls a small smile. “That’s all for now. If there are any questions, ask one of the producers. Good luck, and I’ll see one of you in a couple of days.”

Victoria stood up and left the two sitting on the couch alone. Both girls watched her walk away and then awkwardly made eye contact.

“It’s okay, Marinette.” Lucie smiled, reaching over and giving Marinette’s hand a slight squeeze. “You have a date to prepare for tomorrow. I want to hear all about it tomorrow night!” Lucie smiled so genuinely at Marinette that she couldn’t help but reach over and give her a hug.

“Thank you for being such a great friend,” Marinette said into Lucie’s shoulder.

“The same to you.” After a beat, the girls broke apart, shared one more smile, before Marinette dashed up the stairs to pick out what she was going to wear for her last date with Adrien.

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

Marinette woke up the next morning and was ready in record timing. Dressed in dark jeans, a maroon long sleeve sweater, and black booties, she dashed downstairs and waited in the Date Card room for a knock on the door. She was jittery and nervous and excited and ready for this whole thing to be over. Once again, she was incredibly grateful that she was on this inside of this charade and wasn’t stressing about whether she was going to be picked or not. She couldn’t even imagine what Lucie was going through right now. And how she could possibly stay this calm.

Lucie’s calming presence was welcomed as Marinette waited for the car to come and take her to her date location. They chatted about the most random things, but Lucie never once looked nervous or worried or upset by the fact that Marinette was going on this date. She hoped beyond hope that once all of this was over, the two of them could remain on good terms.

Finally, there was a knock at the door and Marinette jumped up to get it, saying a quick, “Tell you all about it later!” to Lucie as she dashed towards the noise. As she was walking towards the black SUV, she noticed that the clouds were gathering and looked like rain was coming. She hoped that whatever Adrien had planned for her wouldn’t be messed up if it did rain. She wanted to have the best, last TV date possible.

The ride was short and Marinette was aware that they were headed towards the heart of Paris. They stopped in front of the Louvre, and there, leaning on a long, black umbrella and looking like a character from a movie, was Adrien. He was dressed in khakis and a white T-shirt, with a light jean jacket resting open over the shirt.

She was so excited to see him that she ran and he grabbed her up in a hug. “Fancy meeting you here,” Adrien teased with a sly smile. Marinette threw her head back in a laugh, too excited to be there with him to be annoyed by the bad joke. “Glad to see you’re in a good mood today,” Adrien announced as he led her to a nearby bench.

“What makes you say that?” Marinette scoffed, shooting him a wink.

“Truthfully? You laughed at my joke.”

Marinette laughed again, “I’m always in a good mood when I’m with you.” They were sitting now, and it didn’t take much for Adrien to lean forward for a chaste kiss.

“Anyway,” Adrien said with a little bit of a voice break that made Marinette giggle, “I’m excited to do something slightly normal with you today.”

“And what is that?”

Adrien gave her a broad smile before responding, “Shopping.”

And shop they did. Marinette and Adrien wandered to about 6 different stores, dodging in and out of the rain as it had started steadily coming down while they were in the first store. They spent their time picking out clothes for the other to try on, looking through fun decorations and antiques for their “future home,” and even stopped at a grocer’s.

“May I ask why we are going grocery shopping?” Marinette asked as Adrien pulled her into their next stop.

“Because,” was Adrien’s response.

Marinette rolled her eyes and followed him through the front door. He pulled out a shopping list from his jacket pocket and Marinette quickly scanned what they were looking for. The list was short, and Marinette’s focus and determination to make quick work of their shopping kicked in and she started directing Adrien, who grabbed a basket and followed her lead.

“Bacon, onions, garlic, mushrooms, tomato paste, bay leaves, thyme, and chicken livers.” Marinette read off the list, checking to make sure each of those was in the basket as she said them. “Odd combination, but I trust you.” to which Adrien beamed.

After Adrien paid for their groceries, and an awkward moment where the cashier recognized Adrien from a magazine and got very excited, the two passed the groceries off to the awaiting producer.

“But I thought we were going to do something with those?” Marinette asked as she once again got pulled along the street by Adrien.

“In due time, my dear. We have one more stop to make before we get there.” The best part about the rain was that it gave her the perfect excuse to cuddle close to Adrien as they walked so she could remain underneath his umbrella.

After a couple of minutes, they stopped at a park that Marinette knew all too well. Many memories flooded her as she looked out at the carousel. Marinette smiled, remembering one of the very first fights they had with Stormy Weather that led to Manon and Alya being trapped in that same carousel. Adrien walked up and nodded to the attendant, who let the two of them on. “Pick your loyal steed, milady,” Adrien said as he put his umbrella on the bench right behind them.

“Where is everyone else?” Marinette asked as she climbed on a white and pink horse that she was fairly certain had used to be a unicorn.

“We have the whole place to ourselves,” Adrien replied, climbing onto the jet-black horse beside hers.

She felt like a little kid again, riding around. After the first rotation, a producer followed the carousel around and told them that they needed shots of them kissing around the horses and on the bench and kind of just everywhere. Adrien, always the gentlemen, helped Marinette down from her horse. She turned towards him to ask him where they wanted to start, but Adrien grabbed her waist with his left arm and lifted their joined right hands together and started waltzing her around the carousel. They danced in a circle, weaving their way through the horses and benches, Marinette laughing the whole way.

“How do you know how to do this?” Marinette asked as he spun her around the bench that was holding his umbrella. They had made it around the entire circle without Marinette falling. He must have been some sort of wizard dancer.

“My Father made sure I knew exactly how to properly dance at certain functions. Can’t have the heir to the Agreste company making a fool of himself on the dance floor.” Adrien answered, his tone only slightly bitter.

They had stopped dancing, and Marinette took that time to lean in and kiss Adrien, knowing that the producers must have been dying for that to happen. Adrien tilted his head to deepen the kiss and Marinette melted into him. When they finally broke for air, Marinette whispered, “Remind me to thank your father for those dance lessons.”

Adrien let out a genuine laugh, and then guided the two of them onto the umbrella-bench. There, they kissed some more as the carousel made another rotation.

Or two.

Eventually, the carousel came to a stop and the two of them broke apart once more. Adrien helped Marinette off the platform and they began walking hand in hand towards the park exit.

“Are you ready for the last part of our date today?” Adrien asked, a twinkle in his eye once more. Marinette’s heart sank when she realized it was getting kind of late, meaning their time together was almost over.

“What did you have in mind?” She answered, trying to keep any of the disappointment she felt for the end of their day taint her voice.

Instead of answering her, they just kept walking. Marinette enjoyed the silence and took in the beautiful sunset as they walked to their secret destination. If she blocked out the noise of the producers walking with all of their equipment behind her, she could see her future. Just Adrien and her, living their lives in the beautiful city of Paris.

They stopped at an upscale apartment building, and Marinette looked over at Adrien, even more confused. Adrien smiled at her and winked. He said hello to the doorman, who welcomed them in as if this was completely normal. They sneakily got an elevator all to themselves, and before Adrien hit a button, he turned to her with a smile.

“I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”

Marinette just rolled her eyes, “Clearly.”

“I acquired this apartment about six months before the show started. I wanted to have a place of my own where I could escape my Father and just try to figure out how to be an adult that lives on their own. If you’re willing, I’d love for you to move in with me after we’re engaged. Just until the wedding, and then we can find a house of our own that we can pick out together.”

Marinette felt her jaw drop, and had no idea what to say. Adrien smiled sweetly and pressed the button for the 12th floor.

Before Marinette could find any words, Adrien continued talking. “I’m going to give you the grand tour before the cameras make it upstairs, but just let me know what you honestly think about the space, you know, once the cameras leave. I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it before we go forward with anything.”

The elevator dinged and Marinette couldn’t help but smile, as Adrien led her down the hallway. He really was the most perfect person.

Adrien slipped out some keys from his ever-handy pockets and unlocked number 1214. “Welcome to my home.” Adrien whispered as he pushed the door open.

Marinette once again felt her jaw drop. It was an open-concept living room, with the kitchen directly to her right and the dining room to her left. The living room had a comfortable looking couch and very large TV mounted onto the wall over the fireplace. To her left were three doors, which Adrien labeled as the bedroom, a bathroom, and a storage closet. “There’s another bathroom attached to the master, and a spare bedroom to the right.” Adrien announced as he put his keys in a bowl on the counter and walked towards the oven. “I was thinking we could share the spare bedroom as a sort of joint office space, where you could design and sew and I can work on all of the paperwork.”

Before anything else could be said, a producer walked right into the apartment, with no hesitation and turned towards Adrien. “You should have waited for us.”

Adrien shot him a smile, “I promise you didn’t miss much.”

The producer sighed, “Groceries are either in the fridge or in the first cabinet. Please don’t start cooking until all of the cameras and sound equipment is set up.”

Marinette moved into the kitchen with Adrien as he found the groceries and started laying them out onto the counter. “So that’s your big date idea?” She asked, reaching for the bag of mushrooms and bumping Adrien’s arm along the way. “Cooking dinner together? Or did you just want to show off your fancy apartment?”

Adrien spun towards her, “You don’t like it?” The look of pure worry on his face was adorable.

Marinette let out a light laugh, “Adrien, it’s perfect.”

She watched him visibly relax and then pull her into a hug.

“Hey!” Someone yelled, and the two of them turned, without letting go, to look at who had shouted. One of the producers was staring daggers at the two of them, “Save all of the lovey-dovey stuff for the cameras! We need the footage!” Marinette and Adrien just laughed.

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

After they were finished eating and cleaning, the two had curled up on the couch, with the electric fire blazing. They had made coq au vin, and while it was finishing up in the oven, Marinette raided Adrien’s pantry (which needed a lot of help) and found just enough ingredients for the two to have some chocolate chip cookies as dessert.

“Those were the best cookies I’ve ever tasted,” Adrien said, after finishing off his fourth.

“My parents swear by the fact that homemade is always better.”

“Well no wonder they are so successful. If all of their baked goods taste like either the bread we made or these cookies, they have to be the best bakery in Paris, if not all of France!”

Marinette laughed, “I think you may be a little biased.”

“So what if I am?” Adrien shrugged. He was lazily drawing shapes on the back of Marinette’s hand, and she was so comfortable that she felt like she could have fallen asleep right then and there.

“Can you imagine, life after the show?” Marinette asked.

“I have a feeling it would be just like this.” Adrien whispered before planting a kiss in her hair.

“I’m serious though. By the end of this week, we could be engaged.”

“That sounds weird doesn’t it?”

Marinette just nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

“Why are you smiling?”

Marinette busted out laughing as she turned to look at him, “What do you mean ‘why am I smiling?’”

Adrien cheeks turned a little pink as he clarified, “What are you thinking about?”

Marinette sighed, “How I can finally see the end.” She paused, but Adrien waited for her to continue. “I feel like this whole time it’s been, ‘I just have to make it to next week,’ or ‘I’ll get more time with Adrien if I can make it to hometowns, or fantasy suite,’ or whatever the next milestone on the show was. For the first time since we started, I can finally see the end. I can see the two of us cooking dinner like we did tonight, or shopping, or working, basically just living our everyday lives, together.”

Adrien leaned in, but still didn’t say anything, so Marinette filled the silence. “You have shown me a new love, something I’ve never felt before. I feel like I’ve lived my 22 years just for us to find each other in this moment. And I know, somewhere in my brain, that there’s another girl still here and that you could totally not pick me,” Marinette sat up out of Adrien’s arms, the words she was saying building unnecessary worry and fear in her. But they needed to be said for the charade. “But, Adrien, please know that I love you. And if you pick me, I will continue to love you until death do us part. But even if you don’t pick me, know that I’ll support your decision.”

She started to feel a little choked up, and hoped the camera could tell. Adrien heard it too as she watched his eyes widen and he straightened up on the couch as well. “I trust your judgement, and if for some crazy reason, I’m not the one, I’ll respect you even more for having to do the hard thing here.”

Instead of answering, Adrien leaned in and kissed her, hard. When they broke apart, she was out of breath. Adrien took both of her hands in his and looked her dead in the eye. “I need you to know that when I’m with you, I’m with nobody else. With you, our relationship is so easy. I sometimes forget that we are even being recorded, because everything is just so natural and perfect. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I need you to know that my feelings for you are very strong.”

With that the two of them relaxed back into their earlier position, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s all we need for today.” A producer cut in, making both Adrien and Marinette jump. “We’ll give you two a couple of minutes before we take Marinette back to the mansion.” The two stayed silent as the people around them packed up their stuff and left.

When the last one was out the door, Adrien turned towards Marinette, “Do you really like the apartment?”

“Adrien,” she cupped his cheek with her hand, “It’s perfect. I’m honestly so touched that you’ve thought so far ahead to our future, and I adore everything about it.” She paused, soaking in his smile and reciprocating with one of her own. “Although, you could use a woman's touch in your decorating style, it’s very bland,” to which Adrien just laughed.

“Once all of your stuff is moved in, the place is yours to do with as you please.” They shared one more chaste kiss before there was a knock at the door.

“I think that’s my cue,” Marinette whispered as she began to get up from the couch.

“Do you have to go?” Adrien asked in a whiney voice that made Marinette smile.

“I’ll see you soon, I promise. But if I don’t leave now, some people are going to get suspicious.”

“Who cares what they think?” Adrien asked as he stood up from the couch.

“Hate to point this out, but you kind of do, Mr. Star-of-the-Show.”

He sighed in defeat, “You’re right.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “But, the next time I see you, I’ll be getting down on one knee, and you’ll be walking away with a new piece of jewelry.”

Marinette melted at the idea and felt a light blush dust her cheeks as her heartbeat accelerated. “I can’t wait.”