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namjooningelsewhere · 4 years ago

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The Fitting.

Pairing : Park Jimin x reader

Rating : 18+

Genre : Total Smut!! Hell lot of smut actually.

Summary : What happens when you end up doing a fitting session for an idol because everyone else at work has been busy and your the only one at the studio? You had nothing in mind unless you saw the idol in person - PARK FUCKING JIMIN!!!!!!!! Worse somehow hes hell bent on teasing you and you just cant hide it.

Word Count : 2677

"Get those designs ready woman we have a show to set, You heard your partner screaming to someone downstairs. It was just another day at your design studio, But a rather hectic day.

You were about to host a show to showcase your designs and you were designing outfits for a music video for the BTS. You had worked hard to make it big and when the chance was here you just wouldn't let go of it without making sure everything was perfect.

You had a lot to work on today, Sending costumes post fittings, taking models fittings for the fashion show, choosing out the fabric for your creation. In short you had a long list with a little time. It almost night time since the studio began emptying out and the only ones left were your partner and you.

It was almost 9 when you looked up to notice your partner engrossed in a sketch not even giving a damn about time, It was her anniversary dinner today and she looked like she was about to forget it. "Yo woman leave that sketch alone and go get yourself ready you have a dinner to attend in 30." I exclaimed throwing a pencil at her.

"Holy Shit Alisha!! Bloody hell woman i forgot about it, such an ass i am at times." She almost regretted but something in her eyes told me likewise. She gave me her usual smirk "Looks like i have more than just the dinner to eat today, Fuck i am keeping my husband up all night today." She grinned. "eeeww spare me the details please."

She rushed to the shared bedroom we had upstairs, We had a built in bedroom and a closet in the studio since pulling all nighters was a very regular thing for us so we had made it comfortable enough. As soon as grace left you hurried to the bedroom to change in something comfy and changed into a see through woolen cold shoulder and a bum shorts to at least make it a bit comfortable before you dived head first into your work again.

After a couple of hours your phone started ringing, It was almost 11 and grace was blowing up your phone, You nearly dropped your coffee cup as soon as you picked up at the rate of curses and moans this woman was throwing, "Babe we have an impromptu idol visit in the studio. One of them is coming to get fittings fixed so please be available she moaned intensely and judging by the sounds and curses her husband was muttering you were highly doubtful that she would even move out of that bed, She was very giving a clear signal of "IM FUCKING, YOU NEED TO TAKE CARE OF THIS ONE".

You weren't very good with these idols since they required a lot of attention and detailing. It was grace who was the expert to handle these stars. You waited impatiently and since it was already past an hour you just bent over your knees over the floor coloring the sketches you were putting aside for the last design of the collection. This one stayed incomplete because something was missing in it and you couldn't just pin point it out.

You heard some footsteps but it didn't register until you saw a black shoes an black jeans over your head. You sat up straight to see a crotch, Your face was perfectly in level with the crotch of the person in question. Well that was the most awkward introduction of all times, But before you could even apologize your eyes freezed on the figure above- PARK FUCKING JIMIN!!!!!

He was grinning like a devil at the scene below, Almost making it look like a sight he would joke about the rest of his life. You got up to your feet and apologized with awkwardness laced in your tone, " Umm Hi Alisha, Grace's Partner." "Hello Alisha" He still had that smirk plastered on his face. You kicked yourself for making almost a fool infront of who could easily have been the hottest man alive.

"I understand you need to do some fittings" you asked turning quite professional. His guards handed over the bag to examine and left the room. You swallowed hard at the fate, You had raved about Jimin's hotness and charm to grace million times but you never had a slight idea of having to be in the same room as him.

"You need to make it a bit tighter for me and also i need to look at few options before you start the work on this one he said. He moved towards the mirror looking casually and you gulped what could have been the biggest lump in your throat. Right infront of you was standing Jimin wearing a white shirt, Three buttons opened, sleeves folded midway on his arms and a black jeans and black shoes.

You became visibly nervous seeing that sight and it didn't even dawn upon you that were only a dot close to drooling. He smirked at you from the mirror proud of the effect he was having on you. "Sure please this way, You fumbled like a teenage girl. "Lead the way bubble." He grinned. Bubble what kind of a name was that you mumbled to yourself.

"I want to try this one he said laying his hands on a black shirt. "The trial rom is--" was all you could manage as he removed his shirt and threw it on the sofa and began trying on the black one. "Holy shit" you muttered under your breath. "Like what you see bubble?" He smirked. "I I can just go and choose something else to try on for you." You said heat rushing to your cheeks. you knew you had the hots for this man and you found him incredibly sexy and he seemed to be taking advantage of that.

You were a bit nervous but probably that smirk on his face and those looks that clearly had written I have got you and i know it" made you loose it." You took a few deep breaths and went out only to find him already waiting by the mirror. "I'm a little stuck here with the buttons bubble can you help me please?" He asked with eyes so pleading that you didn't even blink twice before going over.

You struggled to keep up with buttons as his gaze was totally fixed on you and you were touching his bare chest with trembling fingers. He had a effect, You very well knew The Sexy As Fuck Jimin effect. You breathed literally heavily just by that chest, the way he smelled and those lips as close as just a few inches away. You exactly knew it was directly forming a pool in your panties.

"Did i distract you bubble?" He asked innocently. He seemed to enjoy this situation of yours, and that made you even more frisky considering that he knew he was teasing you and you were being teased. "Il just get something else you say before catching your breath had been caught in your throat.

"You picked up a red blazer and the set for him, He sat right there bare chested and showing off that shit eating grin towards you. He was just too proud and that was driving you crazy. Fine, It takes two to play a game and you were not letting this get any better. You were about to show him how well you played.

"I think this will look equally sexy and bold enough you say, Why don't we just try it?" you say returning back those innocent eyes that we as sporting minutes ago. "If you think so" he said sheepishly. You stood a little more deliberately close to him and raise his hands to help him wear the shirt and made sure your hot breaths fell right on his neck .

He hissed as you turned him around and started buttoning his shirt running your fingers through his chest as you did so. Now it was turn to be surprised as he hitched a breath not expecting a tease from the same girl who withered under his touch.

"You should try the pants, The trial room is that way" you said with confidence. He looked at you mischievously and walked towards the room and it wasn't even a min when he called out for you. "Bubble need some help here." you exactly knew this was getting a notch higher and nevertheless you enjoyed it. It wasn't everyday you had a Park Jimin riling you up.

You entered the trial room and looked down at his pants and saw the button which he was struggling apparently. You bent down on your knees exactly to the level of his crotch and started tying up your hair and touched his lower abdomen to which he actually responded. You examined the button making sure that your fingers brushed his skin.

"Looks Okay to me. "You smirked and he saw that because it wasn't even second you were pushed on a wall with his lips crashing on yours nibbling them not so innocently "You don't get to do that princess, Only i can do that." He breathed against your lips and his hands travelling to your waist and breasts. He nibbled your neck placing urgent kisses against it and marking right.

"Oh fuck" You cursed as he threw your top aside almost tearing your bra apart and nibbling your nipples as you held his hair, His warm skin leaving you flushed. He was rough but for you it was deliciously rough. His fingers never leaving a spot to touch. "Oh Jimin you moaned his name on his lips as he kissed you roughly like you were the last meal."

You took the shirt away from the gorgeous body he was hiding underneath and started nibbling his lips as he kneaded your tits growling as you increased the pace of that kiss. You could feel his boner rubbing against your belly and just the hardness had made you dripping down your thighs. You still were a moaning mess under him as he yanked your hair and made you sit on your knees exactly the way he saw you first.

"Come-on princess show what you've got he smirked as you pulled out his length and stroking it gently before you were going to ravish it in your mouth. You spat on his cock and started licking the tip earning a moan from Jimin who was too much in pleasure. You started taking him bit by bit until he he fit in your mouth. Damn he was the biggest for you and you smirked at how well he fit in your mouth despite that huge size. Looked like it was tailor made for that cock.

You gagged him until you felt his knees giving out but it was sight to see him throw that head back in the trail room moaning your name as hard as he could. you let him fuck your mouth which led to tears in your eyes but you didn't mind it all. It was a super turn on to gag like this. It was fun discovering your kinks like that.

"Come on baby, take it all for daddy" he said releasing all his cum down your throat. You took in every last drop that came out making him a grinning mess. He lifted you slowly and positioned him beneath your legs and threw you legs over his shoulders while his tongue played with your folds and the other hand stroking your clit.

You rolled your eyes at the back of your head as he double stimulated you, While tongue fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You had never been this way before, but you loved this pleasure that was spasming your body now. He continued doing it until you felt a tight knot in your stomach almost making you squirm. He increased his pace and kept running his tongue in the wet hole until you saw black dots in your vision in the knot snapped right after leaving you all black for the eyes.

You had never cum so hard in your entire life. "Got it good bubble ?''He teased as you nodded your head. " Oh baby we still have some unfinished business he said as he lifted you up till his waist and kissed your neck furiously. One thing was sure you were going to wake up with a hell lot of hickeys tomorrow and he had made sure of that.

He positioned himself at your entrance and nibbled your ears as he slid in. "Jimin" you hissed. "is that my name mow bubble he smirked with a evil grin. "Daddy" You said desperate for him to go all in. "right baby tell me what you want daddy to do?" He said. "Oh Daddy Fuck me was all you could choke out before he rammed into you making you almost blank. He pounded into you in a furious pace which made you go crazy as you were held high up his arms and he had the perfect angle to hit your g-spot.

You saw stars as he he pounded into you, as you felt your walls clenching around him and he let out a small growl. "Fuck bubble you are so damn tight, You are stretching's so good for me" He roared. Suddenly he put you down and turned your back towards the mirror and started fucking you to the mirror. You turned your sight away from seeing yourself that way, "Don't you dare look away he groaned, look at that pretty little pussy getting fucked by daddy so well. Look at you being such a little slut for daddy." The dirty talk turned you on even more as you felt that similar knot rise again as he fucked you from behind, pace getting even more inhuman by every time he pounded you.

"Yes daddy, Fuck me you moaned louder and louder. Make me cum." you moaned. "Lets cum together baby he said as he started increasing his pace as he held your hair in one hand and your waist in other. You felt that coil snap again before you blacked out from pleasure and he rode your high with him pounding in an inhuman pace. He pounded one last time as you clenched around him and he released his all in you. you both panted in each others arms as you got down from your highs.

Hands down this was the best fitting session you had in your entire life and maybe the best orgasms as well. You know we should have more fitting sessions like these and also il go for the red one he said winking at you.

Remind me why you were teasing me and how the fuck did we ended up fucking in my trail room?" You asked almost not recollecting that how the hell all this started in the first place. He gave you the same wink and said "Tell grace i said hi." You just knew it it was the fucker. She gave it out. But still you were taking her out for dinner tomorrow that woman had gifted you the most intense and best fuck of your life.

Nevertheless you had a hell lot of memories to hang on to get off and to feel when you saw park Jimin performing filter in that red suit.

#bts #bts smut #bts layouts #bts park jimin #bts park chimchim #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts oneshot #bts drabble #park jimim #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #bts jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin scenarios #jimin oneshot #jimin fantasy

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sariahsue · 4 years ago

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Rivals Are Always One “Make Me” Away From Kissing

Tossing the controller onto the desk, Adrien reached for Marinette’s waist and slid her into his lap. She came willingly, looping her arms around his neck and weaving her fingers into his hair. (An Adrinette no powers video game AU - 10,000 words)

Adrien had to admit that he was a little bit of a nerd. Here he was, fifteen minutes early for school, in an outfit his personal assistant picked out for him, and looking over his homework alone in the hallway instead of talking with classmates or hanging out in the sunny courtyard like everyone else was doing.

A gust of cool air rushed in through an open doorway and ruffled his hair, making him sigh. It was no wonder he was still single.

The whisper of his name on the wind caught his attention.

"Nino?" Adrien called. The hallway was deserted, so he stuffed his homework into his backpack and stepped closer to the open doorway to investigate. The back of Nino's red cap came into view. He was sitting on the front steps, brushing shoulders with Alya.

"You have too much faith in my bro," Nino said.

Adrien stopped walking forward as his heart sank to the floor. Nino didn't believe in him about something?

"I'm giving Marinette one week, tops," Alya said.

"It's going to take him at least a month," Nino countered.

"You willing to bet on that?" she asked, standing.

"Yeah, I am."

Alya stuck out her hand, then pulled him up as they shook on it.

It was only when they started to turn to come into the building that Adrien realized he shouldn't have been eavesdropping while standing in the dead center of an empty hallway. There was nothing to hide him from the surprised eyes of his friends.

Alya was the first to recover, her expression quickly slipping to suspicion. "How much of that did you hear?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"Nothing!" he said, hands up. "I didn't-"

"Did you hear the news?" Nino cut in.

"N-no? What are you talking about?"

"The Olympic Committee voted."

"About?" Adrien asked. He tried to forget… whatever they'd been talking about.

"eGames are in for Paris 2024!"

"Seriously?" Adrien asked. "I thought they voted against that last month."

Nino ignored the comment and held out a hand for a high-five, but it was more like a middle five, limp and unenthusiastic. Nino glanced toward Alya, and they shared a smile.

"I bet I could get us tickets easy," Adrien said, pulling Nino's attention away from his girlfriend. "Want to come-"

Nino snapped back to attention, eyes gleaming. "You should sign up for the team."

"I should what?" Adrien asked, bewildered by his friend's sudden change in tone. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I'm not that good."

"No really, dude." Nino grabbed his arm. "I think you could do it." He threw an arm around Adrien's shoulder, turned him around and marched him deeper into the school.

"No thanks?" Adrien let himself be steered into a crowded hallway, Alya stalking behind them, her eyes burning into his back. "I'd need more practice than I have time for. Some of those gamers-"

"All you need-" Nino guided them around a group of upperclassmen. "-is a partner to practice with."

What was going on? Adrien knew he was kind of sheltered and maybe a little socially awkward, but he knew Nino well enough at this point that he could tell he was trying to set something up. "I get it. You want an excuse to play on my system every day. But you know my father-"

"Oh, no way, man. I'm not good enough." They stepped through a pair of double doors and out into the morning sunshine of the courtyard. Students laughed and yelled at each other. Others lounged on the stairs going up to the second floor. Nino's hand on his shoulder tightened and they stopped moving. "But maybe there's someone-"

"Yeah," Alya cut in. She shoved her way in between them and pointed to the middle of the courtyard, toward a tight cluster of students. "I bet Marinette would want to practice with you."

Adrien followed the line of Alya's finger. Marinette's dark hair and bright smile peeked out from the center of the group. As usual, she was surrounded by admirers, all of whom were laughing at something she had just said. His stomach clenched, though he wasn't sure why.

"You're kidding, right? She's one of the most popular girls in school."

"Did you miss the memo, sunshine?" Alya said. "You're pretty popular yourself."

"And the four of us hang out together all the time," Nino said. "I'm sure she would love to spend some time with just you."

"I don't even think I want to be in the Olympics," Adrien said, turning away from Marinette and glancing at his other friends. There was definitely something going on. Nino and Alya traded sideways glances and wiggling eyebrows, communicating something Adrien couldn't figure out.

"You really should ask Marinette to practice with you, dude," Nino said.

"No, I don't think-"

"Come on, Agreste." Alya stepped up into his space. Not that he could ever tell Nino this, but his girlfriend could be scary when she wanted to be. She was somehow towering over him, even though he could have sworn a few seconds ago that he was taller than she was. "You want a gold medal, don't you?"

"No?"

"Yes, you do. Now go ask Marinette."

"This isn't even about the Olympics, is it?"

Alya nudged him through the open door and into the light. Adrien blinked, disoriented by the sudden movement and the direction his morning had taken.

"Get moving," Alya insisted.

"Okay, okay! I'll ask her!" he said. His plan to skirt around Marinette's knot of students and escape to the other edge of the courtyard was shot down when his friends' footsteps crunched behind him. They weren't going to let him get away.

Feeling their eyes on him, Adrien weaved his way through the students that filled the yard, hoping the bell would ring and give him an excuse to abandon his quest. What was really happening here?

Guys and girls alike were leaning over Marinette's shoulder, and as he got closer he could tell the laughter was due to something on the sketch pad she was holding. Her smile and the light hitting her hair just right made her glow. Her eyes sparkled.

And Adrien stopped moving.

There was no way he could approach her with this many people around. What was he going to say, anyway? Hey, I think our friends are terrible and plotting something against me, and I'm going to regret asking later, but will you please play video games with me? It sounded stupid even in his head.

A single, sharp fingernail between his shoulder blades reminded him that he had no choice in the matter, so he stepped forward, excusing himself through the crowd of Marinette's admirers, until he was close enough to grab her elbow and borrow her attention.

"A-a-adrien?" she asked, stuttering when her bright eyes found his. "How you- uh, what?"

"Can we play video games later?" Ugh. This was even worse out loud than it had been in his head. "Um, the Olympics are coming up later. And we should practice." Yes, that was an eloquent explanation. Very smooth.

Marinette's eyes went wide in a doe-eyed stare, like she couldn't believe he'd ask her such a thing. "Oh." Her voice shook. "Th-tho nank you. No thank you! I don't-" She glanced behind him, over his shoulder. "I mean, yes! I would love to!" She stared at his feet and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.

Adrien glanced quickly behind him. Nino and Alya were standing a little way away, looking far too innocent. Alya examined her fingernails. Nino was gazing all around the courtyard, not fixing on any one point, his face blank. So they were bullying Marinette into it, too? Whatever they were planning, he wasn't going to let them make her uncomfortable.

"You don't have to," he told her quickly, and her head snapped back up to his. "I mean, it's probably a stupid idea. If you don't want to, I understand. It's kind of a weird idea. And I think the Olympics are dumb and, I mean, you probably like them, so-"

"No," she said quickly, mercifully cutting him off. She reached out to grab his arm, but pulled back just before her fingers brushed his skin. It was close enough to raise goosebumps.

"I do want to practice with you," Marinette said.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Really," she said, putting enough force into it that she sounded almost convincing.

"Okay," he said, skeptical. She must have so many friends and demands on her attention. She was really going to make time for one-on-one time for him? "I have a free two hours before my piano lessons tomorrow. I'll ask if you can come over."

"I'm free then!"

After her initial hesitation, he was surprised to hear her so excited. What was really going on? "Then, that's good, I guess. Sounds... good. Great."

"Great," she echoed.

The bell rang. Relieved, Adrien walked off through the shuffling crowd, pushing through sharp elbows and heavy backpacks and toward Nino and Alya, who were muttering to each other, their heads close together, and not paying him any attention.

Alya was whispering as he approached. He only caught a soft, "They're going to be-" before she noticed him and walked off.

"Bro, please make me lose." Nino adjusted the headphones around his neck.

"You want to lose? What, a bet?"

"Can't say," Nino said. "It's important, though. You've got a month."

If Adrien was confused before, he was stumped now. The only thing he was sure of was that this had nothing to do with the Committee vote or video games. Was Marinette in on it or was she his fellow victim?

Now that he didn't need the bell to save him from anything, it happily rang the beginning of class. Dozens of shoes shuffled down the hallways. Friends called out to each other. Adrien trailed far behind Marinette on his way to their class. Her pigtails bounced to her enthusiastic step.

What was really happening?

***

A week later, Adrien didn't really care what the motivation behind the practice sessions had been. He was having too much fun. In a stunning display of paternal affection, Gabriel had allowed Adrien to set up regular video gaming sessions with Marinette. Or Nathalie had put it into his schedule and not mentioned it to his father. Probably the second one, though he liked to pretend.

Today, they were up in his room, being washed in the music of Mario Kart that they were playing on his gigantic television. Adrien sat up straight on the couch, toes digging into the plush carpet, and pouring his focus onto the screen, but Marinette was draped across the furniture, one foot dragging on the floor, the other accidentally poking his knee whenever one of them leaned into a turn.

In the past few days, a remarkable change had come over Marinette. Instead of being anxious and fidgety whenever they ran into each other at school, the hours of being together had forced her to grow relaxed around him. It was amazing to see the side of her that everyone else so admired shining out of her when she was with him, instead of it being trapped under her awkward stutter like it used to be. He loved this.

As he rounded the final turn, Marinette on his tail, he squeezed the controller even harder, though his character was already going at top speed. A squirt of black ink blocked out his half of the screen.

"No!" he yelled, trying to negotiate the curve while blind. "I forgot you had that one! I thought you were out!"

Marinette didn't leave her position on the couch until she'd crossed the finish line. When she did, she jumped up and crowed her victory. "I beat you again! Admit it! You're going to cry yourself to sleep tonight because I creamed you so bad!"

Adrien wiped away a fake tear with her controller and was rewarded with one of Marinette's soft giggles. The sound was infectious, and soon his laughter joined hers. This was the way a lot of their games ended. Win or lose, they were both happy, just because they enjoyed each other's company.

Adrien's suspicions had melted away over the past few days. Nino and Alya were dating, and they wanted their best friends to spend time together. That must have been it. He had to admit, he loved the idea.

And he loved that she was comfortable enough with him to be the person he saw her be with other people, bold and funny and expressive, somehow kind and fierce at the same time, ready to compliment him or trash talk him at a moment's notice. It kept him on his toes.

While the question of why it had taken her so long to warm up to him nagged at him, it wasn't enough to keep him from acknowledging that he was much happier when she was around.

"So what do you want to play next?" Marinette slid off the couch and pulled out his collection of games.

"Shovel of Hope," he said quickly.

"I usually pick that one," she said, turning to direct a questioning eyebrow his way.

"It is. And I want you to be happy, so we can play your favorites twice in a row."

A slack look of shock was replaced quickly by Marinette's shy smile, and Adrien's heart flipped.

He'd always known she had a nice smile. So why did it seem like a new revelation just now?

***

If Adrien's observation about their first week together was how much he liked Marinette, then observation about the second week was how much his game had improved.

Marinette's skill on most games was just a little higher than his own, so playing against her was always a challenge, and teaming up with her was always instructive. Of course, her teasing continually spurred him on.

Today they were in her room playing Zombie Fighter 2, which he'd never even heard of before. And it showed. After seven rounds, he had failed to land a single hit on Marinette's character. He went down in a shower of sparks.

"KO'd again! I can't believe it!" Adrien tossed his controller into his lap. He noticed every time his left knee brushed her right as they sat cross-legged on her chaise.

"Your skills are improving, young grasshopper," Marinette said.

"How is losing improving?"

"You lasted a whole ten seconds longer than last time. You're learning how to run away."

Adrien socked her in the face with a pink pillow. He'd been in her room a handful of times now and he still couldn't get over how pink everything was. Walls, curtains, blankets, even furniture. It suited her, though.

Marinette stood up and stretched. A small strip of skin peeked out where her shirt rode up. "We should head downstairs. Your driver will be here soon."

"No." Adrien averted his gaze quickly. "Let's play one more!" The warmth of Marinette's room wasn't something he looked forward to leaving, not when his own sterile, empty room was the only thing waiting to welcome him home.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "Can't get enough of me, or can't get enough of being pounded into the ground, I wonder?"

"Jury's out."

"Ouch! Why do I keep you around, again?" she asked.

"Must be because I'm so cute." Adrien selected his character, and the screen lit up with another round.

"Must be." Marinette ruffled his hair.

Adrien sat up a little straighter. Was it the praise? Or was it her touch? When she took her hand away, it was to fix his grip on the controller.

"You're never going to win like that. Your fingers aren't spread out enough. Like this." She adjusted each finger individually, pushing and poking and smoothing each one into place until they curved just so.

Her hands radiated warmth. But not just that. It felt like... kindness? Caring? How was he getting that from just the feel of her fingertips against his wrists, directing him to relax the sudden tension in his arms?

By the time she pulled away and they started playing, Adrien's hands were shaking. He pulled them deeper into his lap, so she wouldn't see the tremors.

What was happening? And why did he feel like Marinette touching him again was going to make him feel better? Whatever it was, it wasn't helping him win.

"That'll teach me to compliment you," Marinette said after cutting down his avatar with ease. "That was awful. What happened?"

"Just tired, I guess," Adrien said, putting his controller between them and flapping his hands, like they were sweaty or cramping or something else normal.

"Tired, huh? I can play better than that in my sleep! So what's the real reason?"

"Tired. That's really the reason."

"Tired of getting beat, maybe."

"Oh, lay off."

"Make me."

He needed something to do with the nervous energy in his hands, and Marinette was asking for it. When he poked her side, she made the most adorable squeal he'd ever heard, and he had to do it again. The tickle fight that ensued was nothing short of inevitable. She tried to reach for the pillow on the floor to defend herself with, but he took the opportunity to poke her side and she tumbled off the chaise and pulled him with her. It wasn't enough to stop him.

"I surrender!" Marinette gasped after only a few seconds. "You win!"

"You admit I'm better at something than you?"

"No, your arms are just longer, like a monkey's." She laughed even before she felt his retaliation tickle for the jibe.

As their laughter subsided, Adrien felt lighter. He hadn't had fun with a friend like this in he couldn't remember how long. His father always made him feel foolish for finding something mildly amusing. Somehow, Marinette made falling off his seat liberating instead of embarrassing. He loved that about her.

Sprawled out as they were, it took Adrien a few seconds before he noticed where his hand was resting. Right on Marinette's soft stomach. She was smiling up the ceiling, not seeming to notice or care that he was touching her. It felt nice.

But it was probably weird. He was being weird.

So why was he not moving?

His hand moved up and down with her breathing, rhythmic and calming. Would she stop him if he slid his fingers along the fabric and felt the texture of her shirt?

He kept his hands still until she sighed deeply, and then he guiltily removed it.

***

It had been the best month of Adrien's life, and he owed it all to the girl who was walking toward him. The school courtyard was packed with students going home for the day. Backpacks hung off shoulders. People shouted to each other. Heads bobbed up and down as they tried to find their friends in the crowd.

Marinette's small build made it difficult for her to push her way through the crowd, but shoved backpacks and used her elbows and finally reached him. He was touched by the effort that she made to be near him.

"Nino and Alya coming?" he asked.

"Over there," she said, nodding toward the couple. "You ready to head out? My dad promised croissants for all of us today, and I'm very done with school right now."

It wasn't easy to pick out their friends in the mass of students, but he finally found them by the stairs, heads together like they were whispering despite the noise.

"What are they talking about?"

Marinette sighed. "The, uh, that bet." She looked sideways at him, like she was hoping he'd say something about it.

"Oh," Adrien said, racking his brain for scraps of memory. "Nino won, right? He said it was going to take over a month." For someone who won a bet, he didn't look very happy about it. The two looked over at him at the same time and frowned. Well, Nino frowned. Alya glowered.

"Technically, Alya's got until the end of the day but... yeah." Her voice became very quiet. Small and sad. "Nino's going to win."

"I never learned what that was about," he said, hoping she would provide an answer to the mystery.

Marinette just shook her head and started fidgeting with her purse strap to avoid looking at him. "L-let's wait for them," she stammered.

That wasn't a good sign. He didn't want to push her into her old habit of not being able to hold a conversation with him, so he didn't ask again. "Sure, we can wait," he said, taking a step to the side to give her some space. "It looks like they're on their way over already."

Nino and Alya approached with fake smiles plastered on their faces, like nothing had happened. Neither greeted Adrien or Marinette when they reached them, just kept walking toward the doors. The crowd thickened the closer to the door they got. Students pushed to get out of the building, and Adrien quickly lost sight of Nino and Alya somewhere ahead of him. He and Marinette squeezed through the doors and finally made it out onto the stairs.

"Oh no!" Marinette pulled at her hair as they started down the stairs.

"What?" Adrien asked, shuffling behind a red backpack that was going much slower than it needed to.

"Nothing, nothing. I just broke an elastic again." Keeping one fist in her hair to hold the pigtail in place, she fished in her purse for another one. Their pace became a crawl as she searched.

"Just wear it down," Adrien suggested.

"I'll look stupid," she said, giving up the search in favor of digging in her pockets.

"Come on, you'll look fine," he said, trying to convince her so they could catch back up to the others. He could see them waiting by the crosswalk, backs to them. "I've never seen your hair down before."

Marinette half turned to him, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "All right," she finally said, letting it fall and taking out the other side to match. She brushed it out with her fingers as they finished walking down the stairs.

She looked nice like that. Really nice. A piece of him thought he should probably tell her that, so she wouldn't feel self-conscious. The rest of him was just glad Alya and Nino weren't looking at them, so they couldn't see him gaping at Marinette like a vulture.

That was when his hands started trembling. The nervous energy was back, urging him to reach out and touch her. Maybe tuck that stray strand of hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger by her cheek, his fingertips graze her jaw. But he didn't want her to pull away again, so he clenched his fists and tried to remind himself that there was no reason for him to be acting this weird around her.

"I feel like everyone is staring at me," she said after only a few seconds.

Well, I don't know about everyone. At least one person is. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look away. Students started breaking away from the main group, escaping down the sidewalk toward their homes. Nino and Alya had finally noticed their approach.

"My hair must look stupid. I knew it!" She threw her hands on top of her head, a combination of covering herself and patting it down to lie smooth.

"They're only staring because you're so beautiful."

Adrien and Marinette stopped and stared at each other. Alya and Nino stared at the pair of them. A light turned green and cars streamed past, the wind they created making Marinette's hair dance.

Marinette looked as surprised at his words as he felt. But it was true. He'd never thought about it before, but she was probably the prettiest person he'd ever met. Inside and out.

When the initial shock wore off after three seconds, Marinette hunched her shoulders. "Oh, w-w-well, y-you th-thank."

Panic settled over him as she stuttered. He'd messed up somehow. She was nervous. He'd made her uncomfortable. He was weird and made her feel weird, and he'd messed everything up. She was upset.

He opened his mouth to apologize – he had no idea how to apologize for giving an honest compliment but he knew he had to try – but the look on her face froze his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Shock and disbelief, warring with curiosity. But they were all replaced with the familiar crinkle in her eyes that meant a challenge was sure to follow.

"So your true feelings come out at last," she said in delight. "Sorry, but I can't get involved with my sparring partner, so don't ask."

"What-"

"No, no. Your begging won't work on me!" She pushed him away with one hand flat against his chest.

Could she feel his heart beating through his shirt? She must have been able to. The whirlwind shift in her attitude was making him nervous.

He looked at Nino and Alya for help at this sudden change. They were both open-mouthed.

That was when it clicked. She was just teasing him again. Or more likely daring him. He knew her well enough to know that tone when he heard it, the same when she offered a bonus challenge round. That compliment had been sincere, but he knew how to play along.

"Oh please, Marinette," he said, falling to his knees. "Your grace and beauty surpass all." The words were so easy to say. Too easy. "Make me the happiest boy in school and go out with me?" He clasped his hands and unleashed the most pitiful expression he knew how to make, not sure if he was even acting.

Marinette flipped her loose hair over her shoulder. "I could never give my heart to my most bitter rival."

"Noooo!" He threw his arms around her waist, pressing his face into her stomach. He heard more than felt her laughter, but inside he ached. Ached as she ran her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck and then because she pulled her hand away. Ached because it felt so good to be close to her and then because he was letting her go as he stood back up. It was all he could do not to let the ache show through his fake smile as he continued the "joke."

Nino had his face in hands. "I hate both of you," he mumbled through his fingers. "So, so much."

Alya had already given up on them. She was halfway to the bakery.

"That's unfair," Marinette said, shifting her backpack and not looking at Adrien like he wished she would. "This is completely Adrien's fault."

"Mine?" he said, trying to sound scandalized instead of bitterly disappointed. "You're the one who won't go out with me."

She opened her mouth to respond, only to pause when she saw his face. He tried to school his expression, hide the new emotions pulsing through his blood, replace it with a smirk and a wink.

It must have worked because Marinette tapped his nose and said, "Sorry, Adrien. You'll have to ask me again some other time. I'm too busy being single at the moment."

The words cut deeper than they had any right to.

Nino grumbled something and turned away. Across the street, Alya shouted, "Are you two done being stupid yet?"

It seemed like Marinette was the only one who was truly happy after the joke, though he thought he saw something else flash across her face as she looked away. He wanted to pretend that it was longing or maybe regret, but he knew that couldn't be true. Marinette considered him just a friend. They had only been joking.

No, she had been joking. Everything he'd said was real. Why hadn't he realized it sooner?

His compliments, all the praise, asking her out, every single word of it had been real.

The ache settled deep into his heart.

***

The next morning, Adrien arrived at school a few minutes earlier than he normally would have, heart pounding and exhausted as he walked through the front doors. The exhaustion was caused by barely sleeping at all last night, instead being consumed with thoughts of Marinette, her confidence, her hair, her laughter, her quiet beauty, her kindness, and how much he wanted to touch her and spend time with her.

It hadn't even been 24 hours since he'd realized he was in love with her, but it spread through him like an wildfire, burning him up from the inside out, reaching through every part of him and carving out new places for thoughts of Marinette to inhabit, driving him to do something, anything so he could be with her.

His pounding heart was caused by that last bit, the knowledge that he now needed to act. His plan was simple, but he ran through it again anyway as he waited by her locker. As casually as he could, he was going to ask her out. But not on a date. Not yet. If she didn't like him that way (the "if" killed him; he knew she didn't), he wasn't going to mess up his chance by playing his hand too soon. He repeated his line over and over again. "I was just wondering if you'd like to do something other than video games with me some time?"

It was simple. It was normal friend stuff. He leaned against her locker, the cool metal soothing the voice that said she was going to say no, that he was an idiot for even asking her. After joking around yesterday, it was clear that she only thought of him as her weird gaming nerd friend. Why would she want to do other things with him?

But he had to try anyway. If she said yes, it would be a step in the right direction. He would be able to spend more time with her.

Though he tried not to, Adrien watched every person who entered the hallway, waiting for her. His heart leaped to his throat every time he saw black hair, and it crashed back down to his feet every time it wasn't hers.

If she said no, well, he would accept his place as just her gaming buddy, even though it would break his heart. And he could always pretend that their practice sessions were dates, right? Besides, he'd known her for over a year and he'd been okay with being only friends that entire time. It would probably be simple to find his way back to that easy, uncomplicated friendship.

He slipped a little farther down the cold locker door. His argument was very unconvincing, and he swallowed back the tightness in his throat at the idea.

Black hair bobbed into view, and this time it was Marinette's face underneath it. Blue eyes flashing. Smiling broadly at someone who wasn't him.

Excitement and terror washed through him. Her laughter echoed down the hall ahead of her, and he basked in the sound and sight of her. Would he even be able to speak by the time she finally saw him?

Marinette hadn't noticed him yet. She was talking with someone else, and Adrien's eyes flicked to her companion.

Nathaniel was laughing too, then laughing harder at something else Marinette said. Without hesitation, he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a side hug. Marinette looked content as they walked ever closer to her locker, and that's when Adrien finally accepted the truth.

She was going to say no.

And he couldn't accept just being friends.

With only seconds to make up his mind before she saw him, Adrien did the only thing he could think of.

He ran away.

***

Today's practice was taking place cross-legged on his floor, staring up at his giant television. Marinette sat with him, a six-inch gap separating them, but she looked over at him from time to time, concerned at his silence.

Over the past week, Adrien hadn't given up hope completely, though he knew he should have. Marinette didn't like him that way and was way out of his league. The knowledge didn't stop him from agonizing over the perfect thing to say that would get her to change her mind, or at least give him a chance.

In the end, he had waited too long.

Though he was trying to act like everything was fine, the jealousy ripping through him was affecting his mood, his game, even his face, and had been chewing him up all afternoon. For the millionth time, he tried smoothing out his scowl. He'd already given up trying to shake life back into his numb hands.

B, up, duck, A. Button smashing when he knew he wasn't fast enough. Finally watching as his avatar felt defeated to the mat. Again. He took a shaky breath.

"Okay, what is going on?" Marinette asked, placing her controller carefully down in front of her, lining it up perfectly parallel to her knees. "You're making a lot of rookie mistakes. It isn't like you."

"Oh, just tired," Adrien said, making a show of stretching and lolling back.

"You told me this morning you'd slept really well last night," she said flatly.

"Oh." Right. He'd said that. Shoot. "Tired... from school."

"Okay... What was so-"

Adrien started a new round, forcing Marinette to scramble for her controller and cut off her interrogation.

It was only going to buy him time. If Marinette thought someone was upset, he knew she wasn't going to let it rest until she'd helped them feel better. It was one of many, many things that he loved about her. But he also knew he'd be better off bringing it up before she did, so he could steer the conversation.

They played for a few minutes in silence while Adrien's character was annihilated and he organized his thoughts. "So..." he finally asked, and he was pleased to hear his voice sounding almost normal, not tense like he felt. "What did Nathaniel want to talk to you privately about earlier?"

Adrien knew. She probably knew that he knew.

Nathaniel had asked her out. Adrien had been too slow, and now she was someone else's girlfriend. Could she read the agony on his face underneath the mask of disinterest?

"Oh, Nathaniel asked me for a date." How could she be so calm about the thing that was causing him to die inside? Sensing his distress, his avatar also keeled over and died. Round sixteen ended in defeat.

"Oh? That's..." He gulped. What question would just a friend ask? "When's the big-" He forced the word out. "-date?" That had sounded awful. The words and his delivery.

"I turned him down," she said casually, and just as casually she slaughtered his character again.

The next round began as Adrien blurted out a thrilled, "Really?!"

Marinette's character killed itself by jumping off the edge as she dropped her controller and turned to stare at him.

Adrien cleared his throat. "Really? Too bad for him, I guess." I'm cool about this, Marinette. Not interested in you or your love life at all. His unasked question hung over them: Why did she turn Nathaniel down? He couldn't bring himself to ask.

She continued to stare, considering him, then turned away with a smile she couldn't quite hold in. "I've wiped the floor with you for the past eighteen levels. You want to go again, or are you ready to admit your defeat?”

"And let you rub it in for the rest of our lives? I don't think so."

"I promise not to if you agree to do my homework for the rest of the year."

"I would absolutely love to never do that ever. Bring on level nineteen."

"Oh, that's what I was hoping you would say." Her glance was sly, and Adrien felt a challenge coming on.

Their characters were whirls of pixels, but this time he had no problem keeping up. She'd turned Nathaniel down! Adrien was back on form, matching Marinette stroke for stroke, about to pull out his first win since-

"I bet you were wondering why I said no." Marinette's avatar slipped a punch over his slack fists, knocking him down to half health with one blow. "It's because I already like someone else." With one more kick, she finished him off.

Adrien gripped his controller, not seeing the screen or even her as the next level started playing. Of course she already liked someone. Someone as loving as Marinette would have someone she loved. He'd never even had a chance, even before he'd wanted one. He was an idiot for not realizing.

"Complete devastation!" Marinette said. She meant his character, but she could have been talking about the boy sitting next to her. Both were crumbling to the ground.

The practice session ended early that day. Marinette sent him several questioning looks over the next hour that he stubbornly ignored, and he was glad she didn't push him. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand her sympathy.

Like the gentleman he was, Adrien walked her to his bedroom door. Even with the awkward tension lingering in the air, he wanted her to stay a little longer. Maybe sensing that, or maybe just still hoping to cheer him up, Marinette hesitated in front of the closed doorway.

Adrien opened his mouth to speak, but when he realized he had no idea what it was he wanted to say, he shut it again slowly. Marinette waited patiently, playing with the hem of her shirt. What could he tell her? Nothing that would help his situation. Nothing that would change her mind about whatever wonderful guy she had her eye on. Nothing that would make her consider her dork of a gaming partner.

Marinette smiled up at him. After the miserable company he'd been all afternoon, she still felt like smiling at him? He almost blurted all his feelings out anyway.

"Well..." she said. "I should go."

Pushing herself up on her toes so she could reach and putting her hands on his shoulders for balance, Marinette placed an unexpected kiss on his cheek, just next to his mouth.

Adrien closed his eyes at the tender touch, heart melting.

I could turn my head, he thought as her lips lingered. I could wrap my arms around her and never let go. The scene was vivid in his mind, her hands slipping from his shoulders to his chest, fingertips tracing the stripes across his shirt. Whispers of how much she loved him. Him pulling Marinette close, her wanting him to.

But it wasn't real. She wouldn't like that, he reminded himself, so he kept still. His hands gripped his jeans to keep them from seeking her out.

When she pulled away a few seconds later, her look was intense. Despite her announced intention to leave, she hesitated. Waiting for something. For him to say something?

The words were right there on the tip of his tongue. Confess! He could do it!

He could, but he shouldn't. She'd just admitted to liking someone else. How disrespectful of her confession would telling her now be? Adrien didn't want to lose her.

"See you tomorrow?" he said, pulling the door open for her.

She frowned, not like she was angry. Like she'd been disappointed. Without another word, she slipped through the door and padded down the wide atrium stairs. He didn't take his eyes off her the whole time, but she didn't turn around to see it. From his spot so far away, he heard the front door click softly behind her.

He stayed put long after she'd gone, replaying the kiss in his mind, what her soft lips felt like, the tingle he'd felt as she'd rested her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the heat of having her body so close to his.

Had it been all his imagination, telling him what he wanted, or had her kiss really been that close to his mouth? It had felt like she'd almost touched his lips she'd been so close.

The memory was still fresh on his skin, and he outlined the spot hesitantly, then with awe as his finger brushed the corner of his mouth. It wasn't his imagination. She really had.

Maybe... maybe he had misunderstood. Hope bubbled up inside him. She liked someone else, someone other than Nathaniel. He wasn't Nathaniel. What if she'd meant him?

What if he did have a chance after all?

***

Adrien wanted to be absolutely sure. Getting his hopes up again, or listening to Marinette's rejection, would be too painful. He was going to make sure he was the one, so he spent the next week looking for clues that he was the lucky boy she'd set her sights on.

And clues were everywhere.

They were mostly little things, like the way her face would light up when he came around a corner, or how she leaned into his touch when he dared to brush her bangs out of her eyes, or how she didn't scoot away if he sat down close to her.

Four days later, in the middle of a hard level, he experimentally touched his hand to her knee, keeping the pressure as light as he could, in case it wasn't wanted. She scooted closer, like she wanted to make it easier for him to do it again.

Marinette knew about his strict diet and would often bring him goodies, leftovers from the bakery. The following day, she'd brought him ones she'd made herself "with love." That's what she said. The big L word. A small part of him told him to calm down. She could have meant that she loved him as a friend. Most of him excitedly took it as an obvious hint.

Overall, his second favorite hint of her feelings was how she glowed under his compliments.

"These pastries are the best things I've ever tasted! Could you teach me to make them?" Marinette stumbled over her words for the next five minutes.

"Forget competing in the Olympics," he said two days later. "You could be the team coach. You're amazing!" She blushed for the rest of the day.

The best hint, the one that left him reeling, was becoming a common occurrence: she talked to him. Lately, their practice sessions would be filled with long stretches when they chatted about everything and nothing, controllers abandoned.

Today, she lounged on his couch, and he sat on the floor by her head. She'd asked him about his day, and he'd listened to hers, though she admitted herself that it was boring. She'd asked him about his day, then about his dreams for the future.

The honest curiosity she had for his answers, the fact that she even cared, left him leaning the couch for support. Marinette was on her back and smiled up at him as the movement brought him closer.

The conversation hit a lull when he ran out of things to say. Instead of feeling awkward, it was peaceful, and she closed her eyes and sighed.

What a perfect time to test her feelings for him again. Before he could think better of it, he ran his fingers through her hair. Her reaction was immediate. Her whole body relaxed, her smile widening. When she opened her eyes to look up at him, they were soft, maybe even loving.

But the "maybe" was still too daunting, and he pulled his hand back and looked away.

He needed to tell her how he felt. He liked her too much not to. He wanted her to look at him like that all the time. So why was he pulling out the controllers again to avoid her? Was it really better to wait and see what happened? Or should he just lay his heart bare right now?

He settled on the couch next to her, Marinette bending her knees to give him room without moving from her spot. Was she still giving him that loving look? Or had it turned into a frown because he was being a coward? He hunched forward under the weight of all his questions, resting his forearms on his knees.

"I bet I could beat you in my sleep," Marinette said. Her voice sounded normal, so he dared to look at her. Her face was mischievous as she stretched out with an exaggerated sigh, throwing her legs across his lap and pinning his arms down. "Care to bet against me?"

"Um, move. I need those arms."

"Make me."

Two more hints: the ease with which she touched him, and the way she seemed to save her most dazzling smiles just for him.

"Make you?" Massive crush or not, Adrien was not about to pass up a challenge. "I'll make you."

Marinette settled deeper into the cushions, pressing down onto his arms. It was the best trap he'd even been in, and he couldn't reach much to help him, just the coffee table in front of them. Leftover snacks littered the table, along with a half-filled glass of water. He slid it off the edge of the couch as Marinette squirmed to keep him in place.

With his limited movement, he couldn't lift the cup very high, so he mimed pouring it over her shins. She shrieked and kicked him in her scramble to get out of the way, and the glass spun out of his hand, splashing water all over him before landing on the floor. It soaked into his shirt and dripped through his hair.

"I'm sorry!" Marinette jumped up immediately, flapping her arms around her head so fast they blurred. "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine," he assured her while rivulets of water tickled his down scalp. "It wasn't that much water."

She groaned at the lie. "I'll go get you a towel."

Before he could protest, she ran toward the bathroom door. Adrien followed her, dripping. "It was my fault. Please don't-"

A fluffy towel muffled his words as she threw it over his head and started rubbing it into his hair. "Marinette," he mumbled. "You don't have t-" The pace of her hands became less frantic as she moved from the crown of his head, moving down to dry the back.

"Sorry," she whispered. Her tempo became even slower as she worked the sides of his heads, rubbing gently so she wouldn't hurt his ears. Plans to "accidentally" get himself soaked on a weekly basis were already starting to form in his mind. He wasn't sure if it was the attention she was paying him or her rhythmic pace as she stroked circles around his ears, but every muscle in his body seemed to be melting.

"Is that any better?" she asked. Her hands stilled, but she didn't remove the towel from his face. Her breathing was quick and shallow.

Adrien lifted up the edge to reveal Marinette's panicked face. What did she think? That he was going to hate her because of some water? He wasn't a cat.

Her eyes searched his, looking for anger or rejection or who knew what, and he gently grabbed her face with both hands to bring her back to reality. And as an excuse to act out at least the beginning of every fantasy he had about kissing her. With the way she was looking at him, he could even pretend that they were about to come true.

"It's fine," he said, rubbing a thumb across her cheek. "I'm all dry now." A cold spot was soaking through at his shoulder, but he ignored it.

After a few more seconds of wide-eyed staring, Marinette slid the towel off his head and looped it behind his neck, holding onto both ends and giving no indication that she wanted him to remove his hands. So he didn't.

Another clue. It finally was enough. He knew.

Leaning in slowly, so she would have time to change her mind, he looked at her lips, then raised an eyebrow in question. Marinette used the towel to pull him closer to her, closing her eyes. A rush of heat swooped in his stomach when he felt her body brush against him. Her breath fanned his face as he inched closer. They hovered, anticipation building, noses brushing, lips quivering, until he tilted his head and finally closed his eyes.

Without warning, the door swung open. "Adrien."

Marinette and Adrien jumped apart, the towel falling on the floor.

Nathalie walked in, staring at her tablet and almost ignoring the teenagers she was speaking to. She hadn't noticed anything. "Your piano teacher is here. Ms. Dupain-Cheng's ride is waiting downstairs." Without another word, or even looking around the room for them, she left, leaving the door open after her.

"Um," Adrien said. Cursing the interruption, he bent to pick up the towel. When he straightened he reached out for Marinette's hand, but she was already across the room, picking up her things and not looking at him, her face glowing red.

She snuck him a peek once as she was putting her shoes back on, but when she saw him staring at her, she looked down again. Probably because he was gaping at her like an idiot.

Marinette finally walked back over to him, eyeing the wet spot on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-

"Want a hug?" he asked, offering his arms. "It's nice and cold."

She chuckled as she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his. "Thanks for having me over." Her breath blew his hair, tickling him. "And for letting me beat you."

"Oh, yes," he said. The hug didn't feel cold at all. It was warming him up from head to toe. "I lost on purpose, just for you." How was he supposed to just let her walk out his door, when all he wanted to do was hold her and never move from this spot again? "Because your happiness is so important to me."

As she pulled away and stepped back, he grabbed her hand, and then just as quickly let it go, unsure how to recreate the mood that had so quickly evaporated.

They waited, neither moving, Adrien hoping for at least another goodbye kiss like she'd given him last week. Without warning her expression crumpled, and she walked through the door without saying goodbye at all.

She'd been waiting, he realized as soon as she was gone. She'd been waiting for a goodbye kiss, too.

Adrien ran to the window in time to watch her walk down the front steps. He followed her with his eyes as she slid into the car. When she turned to pull the door closed behind her, she paused, looking straight at him. He waved, but she shut it without returning the gesture.

"Tomorrow," he vowed. It was Saturday, and they had another practice in the morning. The first words out of his mouth were going to be his confession.

He just needed to figure out what to say.

***

Saturday mornings used to mean stifling isolation. There was no school to look forward to. His tutors often had the day off, and if there wasn't a photoshoot, he was likely to be confined to his room. Another benefit of having Marinette in his life was that he was no longer alone on the oppressive weekends.

"You're smart, and kind, and funny." Adrien muttered to himself in the back seat, his driver occasionally looking at him with concern through the rearview mirror. He'd been rehearsing multiple versions of his speech since last night. It was only a few minutes until he saw her, and he still hadn't decided what to say. Should he just blurt it out? "Marinette, I love you." Or should he build up to it? "I've loved spending time with you, and you're my best friend, and lately you've become more than that." He tested them both out. They were both fine, so why did they both sound so... wrong?

Maybe he wasn't being specific enough. Anyone could tell her she was great. So what should he say about her specifically? This only led him back to all the other lists of rehearsed lines he'd come up with in the last 12 hours, her confidence, her infectious joy, her compassion...

The car pulled up to the curb, and Adrien stepped out, knees a little wobbly with anxiety. He was going to have to just wing it. Say what felt right in the moment. Which was a terrifying idea, but now he had no choice.

The bell tinkled and the smell of fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies filled his nose as soon as he pushed open the bakery door. Sabine and Tom turned to him with wide smiles.

"She's already waiting for you," Sabine said, waving him through the door to their upstairs apartment. "Have fun!"

His footsteps seemed to echo through the small hallway. Hesitating only a second, he knocked on the door that led into her living room, and waited, heart pounding.

Marinette, I have something to tell you. Marinette, I love you. Marinette, before we start to play, can we talk? He'd promised himself. The first words out of his mouth would be his confession. Don't mess it up, Adrien. Just tell her you love her.

The door was yanked inward so fast that it hit the wall. Adrien jumped. "M-marinette. I lo-"

"I've got a new idea! Come here!" She reached through the doorway and clamped down on his wrist, then turned and towed him through the living room and up her stairs. A woman on a mission.

He had no idea what that mission was, or what really was happening, so his imagination started supplying possibilities. She got a new game? She needed to show him her newest art project? He tripped on the top step when he thought that maybe she was dragging him up to her room because she couldn't wait to kiss him.

He imagined her snapping the trapdoor shut, with the pink curtains closed and her room dimly lit by filtered light. She would let go of his hand, then turn around to face him, before slowly stepping into his space. She'd slide her hands up his shirt, stopping at the collar, grabbing fistfuls to pull herself closer. And closer. Their faces were millimeters apart. He could count the lashes of her half-closed eyes. He reached for her eagerly, wrapping both arms around her waist, pulling her closer, her stomach flush against him.

"I love you," she whispered. "You're the only one for me." Her lips parted slightly as her eyes slid shut.

Marinette's voice was suddenly bright and cheery. "Pick your favorite button!"

Adrien's daydream popped.

Sunlight flooded her room through uncovered windows. Her trapdoor was still open, as her parents had always requested, and she waited for an answer expectantly, bouncing on her toes and not looking smitten in the slightest.

"Uh, what?"

"Buttons," she repeated. "Which one's your favorite?"

She'd dragged him upstairs for sewing help. He cleared his throat and smoothed out the collar of his shirt, which hadn't been rumpled by her hands.

"I've never thought about it," he said, keeping the disappointment out of his voice. "Flat buttons are probably the easiest to sew with, but Father says shank buttons are almost as easy, and I think they look... What?"

Marinette was laughing at him. "No, your favorite controller button, you goof." She waved one in front of his face. The A button had been taped down. Taking it in both hands again, she mimed playing an intense round. Enthusiasm bubbled off of her. He had no idea what this was about, but he was already on board with whatever it was. (Even if it wasn't kissing.)

"I'm confused." And also in love with you.

It was too late for his confession to be the first thing out of his mouth. His fingers itched to touch her, but she was too excited to let him interrupt.

"See, we're getting too good. We need a new way to push ourselves, so I thought, give ourselves a handicap." She pointed at the incapacitated button. "And go head-to-head. What do you think?"

"I think that's amazing."

As soon as the moment passed, he'd realized what a perfect opportunity he'd missed. Marinette was scrambling across her room to tape down the B on his controller. "You're," he whispered, too quiet for her to hear. "I think you're amazing."

"Catch!" The controller flew, and he caught it deftly. Marinette flopped onto the chaise, leaning sideways against the cushioned back, leaving enough room for him to sit at the end, if he didn't mind her feet poking his thigh, which he definitely did not.

The computer monitor flickered as Marinette scrolled through the settings. Adrien leaned forward as the round began, trying to ignore the way her toes jabbed him when he got a hit on her. It didn't happen very often. The handicap was almost impossible to play with. Marinette won every round easily. At the end of the fourth round, she covered a fake yawn and stretched lazily, and he finally realized something important.

"You practiced this beforehand, you dirty cheater!"

Marinette laughed wickedly as his character was knocked out again.

"You're almost as good as I am now, young grasshopper. I've got to maintain my superiority somehow!"

"We both know that isn't true." He swiped for her hands, but she was too fast, moving the controller out of his reach. "Give yourself a second handicap."

"Make me," she said, her feet pushing against him to press herself further into the back of the chaise.

"Give it."

"No."

He leaned over her legs and into her space, but she kept the controller away from him, grinning wildly. Feigning defeat, Adrien leaned back. When Marinette lowered it into her lap, he pounced forward, but she was still too quick, lifting both hands behind her head, hiding it out of sight.

"Hand it over!"

"No!"

He reached, and she leaned back farther, one elbow poking his cheek. Pushing into her, he strained to get the controller, and she arched underneath him to keep it away.

His arms were longer than hers. He should have been able to get it. His fingers found her wrists, and he slid them up to find her fingers.

A warm breath on his cheek made him stop. He was face-to-face with Marinette. He was nearly lying on top of her, pressing her into the chaise. They were both breathing hard, though they'd barely moved. One of her pigtails was loose.

"It's not fair," he said, mouth dry. "You need to make it even."

She lifted her head, until her face filled his vision and their noses touched. "Make me." Her lips brushed his with each word.

He kissed her.

Every longing moment, every loving thought he'd ever had about her poured through him into his kiss. Again and again his lips found hers. Somewhere, a controller clattered to the floor, and then her hands were on him, in his hair, splayed against his neck, pulling him closer, and he kissed her harder, caressing her face, pulling out her loose pigtail so he could feel her soft hair between his fingers.

Kissing a line from the corner of her mouth to ear and back, he asked, "Have I sufficiently dazed you?"

She hummed dreamily in response.

Kissing just below her ear, he asked, "Think you can play like this?"

A whisper. "No."

Taking his time, he worked his way back across her cheek, making sure to kiss every inch until he reached the corner of her lips, but he stopped just shy of them, gently kissing her nose instead. "Good."

Somehow, he managed to pull himself off of her. Marinette clutched at his shirt, trying to get him to come back, but he circled the chaise and retrieved her controller, holding it out to her. He loved the way her fingers hovered over her mouth as her eyes wandered up his arm. When her eyes reached his lips, her fingers pressed down hard, like it was the only way she could stop herself from kissing him again.

"Up for another round?" he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to the computer screen.

"Yes, but not of that." She scowled. Half of her hair was loose around her shoulder.

"Let me win this game and you have a deal."

"Never."

"Poor, Marinette," he said, settling down next to her and clicking Start. "No more kisses for you."

Ten seconds into the round and Adrien already knew his plan was going to end badly. His hands were shaking. Marinette's character wobbled. Every time he licked his lips, he could still taste her.

And she had realized that if she rubbed her toes against his hip, he would jump and look over at her. The first time she did it, he was unsure if it had been on purpose, but the second, he turned to find a sly smile waiting for him. This girl was going to drive him crazy.

"I don't think much of your tactics," she said a minute later, as her character finished him off. It had taken three times longer than normal because they were both awful. "You're clearly just as dazed as I am."

"Not nearly enough," he said. Tossing the controller onto the desk, he reached for her waist and slid her into his lap. She came willingly, looping her arms around his neck and weaving her fingers into his hair.

One of his hands stayed at her waist, the other reached up and pulled her other pigtail loose. "You really do look good like this," he breathed.

"You love me," she giggled. "Admit it."

He leaned forward, forehead resting on hers, eyes locked. "Make me."

"Oh, believe me-" Marinette's voice was a low whisper, and Adrien felt a thrill. "I will."

***

Author’s note: This might just be my new favorite thing I’ve ever written. :) I wrote this in response to a poll I took a zillion years ago. It’s finally here! Thank you @ours-polaires, @khanofallorcs and @actuallycannotflirt for beta’ing this one! I know it was long, and I truly appreciate the help!

@tbehartoo

#adrinette #adrienette #ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #no miraculous au

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sheeple · 4 years ago

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Itchy sweaters | 2: The dinner party

PHOTO NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): CEO!au / arranged marriage!au / Fashion designer!au Fandom(s): MCU Pairing(s): CEO!Bucky Barnes x fashion designer!reader Summary: Love comes in unexpected places and in many forms, everybody knows that but we often forget it. It can come as enjoyment in your job, brunch with friends, gifts, or an arranged marriage. Warning(s): Age-gap [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

"Are you nervous?", asks the voice of Peter over the speakers of my car.

I glace up at the red traffic light while drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. "I am about to meet my fiance, of course, I am nervous." I roll my eyes at Peter's obvious question even though I know he can't see it.

Ignoring my remark, Peter continues. "I googled him, by the way. He's old, dude!"

I let out a laugh. "You make it sound like the man is fifty or something", I remark, speeding away from the traffic light once it turns green. I am already a bit behind schedule because of some missing fabric and sketches at work. That set my planning back for almost an hour, so I couldn't go home to change into formal wear or something nice.

And in all honesty, I had the vaguest idea that my day wouldn't go as planned, so I put on a pair of black jeans with a blue blouse, and black turtleneck tucked in the jeans. And with the first jacket I saw, which is an oversized leather one, it's sure a look.

"Did you also hear what happened to his arm?"

"Peter, I know nothing about this man other than how he looks, so do tell." I pull up to the parking lot of the restaurant. I cut off the engine and look at the crowd inside, seeing if I can see my parents somewhere.

"So, it turns out he has a prosthetic arm made of metal. I've seen pictures, it looks really cool." I can practically hear through the phone that Peter's bouncing around.

With a sigh, I reach behind the driver's seat and grab the pair of emergency heels. I always have those in my car. "Yeah well... okay. Thanks for the information, I guess." I take my phone out of its holder, holding it to my ear as I step out of the car. "I've got to go. How about lunch tomorrow? With MJ, Ned, and Shuri. I heard she is in town."

I walk up to the restaurant and set a time with Peter before ending the call. I immediately text the group of the plans as I enter the restaurant.

"I have a reservation at seven", I greed the host with a polite smile while glancing at my watch. 19:20. Not too shabby.

"Under what name, ma'am?" The host starts to flip through the black reservation book.

"(Y/L/N). My parents are already seated if I'm correct."

The host nods and motions for me to follow them. They bring me to a table in the back.

As I approach the table, I first get noticed by a familiar face. Brown hair, a slight beard, and deep-set eyes. Which light up as soon as they fall on me.

James Barnes stands up, making everyone at the table look at him in surprise before realising why he stood up.

"Hello, I am so sorry I am late. Work was hectic, and the traffic was none the better. (Y/n) (Y/L/N)." I hold out my hand for a handshake.

James shakes it politely, a soft smile on his lips. "Nice to meet you. James Barnes." He holds my hand longer than he's supposed to. As he realizes that he is still holding my hand, James quickly let go, letting his hand drop next to his body.

Ignoring the awkward handshake, I move towards his father. I shake his hand with a smile and say something along the way of it being nice to see him again.

"Couldn't you stop by your apartment to put on a more appropriate outfit?", remarks mom and I roll my eyes.

"Nice to see you too, mom. No, I couldn't. Pietro lost a pretty important shipment of fabrics, so that had to be found." I shrug off my jacket, placing it over the backrest of the last empty seat, in front of James and next to my father. Mr Barnes is next to James while mom sits at the head of the table with a judging look on her face.

"Do you work in the shipping industry?", asks Mr Barnes, his eyes focussed on me as he takes a sip of his drink.

I run a hand through my hair. "No, I am a fashion designer at my own brand, Aeon. We are currently mid-production for our new collection, the whole design and production team are under a whole lot of stress."

Dad perks up. "Yes! Her new collection will be shown in three months in Chicago." He smiles proudly as he pats my thigh under the table.

"What do you design?", asks James, interest shown in his eyes.

"I focus mainly on tailoring. Suits, dresses, formal wear. All that jazz. And you, what do you do for a living?" I reach for the drink that's already placed above my plate. I glance at my dad and give him a thankful smile, knowing he ordered it for me.

"Oh, I am into the real estate business. I own a couple of buildings on the Upper East and West Side and Hell's Kitchen, also a few estates in Brooklyn." James lists off his listing, but it doesn't sound braggy at all.

I let out a soft gasp at the mention of Brooklyn. "I love Brooklyn! Ever since I was little I would dream of living there."

James leans forwards with an excited smile on his face. "I am from Brooklyn. We lived there for how long?" He turns to his father.

"You’ve lived with us for twenty long years”, Mr Barnes teases, making my parents chuckle. “Our family has been living in Brooklyn for generations." His father turns to me. "You will fit well there."

"Where do you live now?", asks James before I can form an answer to his father's remark.

"Greenwich Village, just a few blocks away from Washington Square Park. My studio is just around the corner, so that's a pro."

"What are the cons." I see James thinking. He's using his realtor brain of his to imagine what is wrong.

I lean backwards, my lips forming into a mischievous smile. "Believe it or not, and it's going to blow your mind. It's not Brooklyn."

To my surprise, the dinner went smoothly and before I know, it's time to go. Our parents ushered us outside while they figure out how to paying will go.

"It was really nice meeting you, James." I turn to him with a bright smile, my hands in the pockets of my jacket. It has cooled down significantly since I entered the restaurant and I shiver.

"Do you wanna, like- I mean, if you're not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee since you seem very busy at the moment?" James suddenly turns a slight shade of red. "I would like to get to know you better."

"Of course, I would love to. I have this Thursday time for lunch, I believe." I check my agenda with a frown. "Yup, for two hours I am completely yours."

I bite my lip at my comment. Great, how to make it weird 101.

"Wonderfull. I'll pick you up... where should I pick you up?" He scratches the back of his neck with a boyish smile on his face.

"Let me AirDrop my contact details and those of my studio. You do have an iPhone, don't you?" I narrow my eyes in fake suspicion.

James laughs. "Do you think I am a barbarian?" He takes out his phone as I AirDrop the contacts to his phone. He does the same for me for his personal information and that of his office.

"See you next Thursday, then. Around noon." He pulls me into a curt hug as our parents walk out of the restaurant. Blood rush to my cheeks as I watch James and his father leave, waving goodbye at me before getting into the car and driving off.

"What did I tell you?" Dad comes to stand next to me and nudges my side.

I bite my lip and roll my eyes. "Fine. He's a nice guy. Are you happy now?" I give him a kiss on his cheek, doing the same to my mom before walking towards my car.

"As long as you're happy, we will be too dove!", dad calls after me before I close my car door, a wide smile on his face.

I slip off my heels and throw them on the back seat, putting the car in reverse and speeding away.

Maybe this whole arranged marriage won't be so bad after all.

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tsukikento · 4 years ago

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Empathetic Chapter 14

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: I’m glad I was able to get another chapter out before school starts for me. Anyways, please let me know what you guys think! I love hearing your thoughts and feelings on the story!

(masterlist)

You woke up on Sunday with a small pit in your stomach.

It only grew bigger as the day continued.

However, it started small. Just a little bit of nerves for your training sessions today. Except, you did not have much time to think about these anxieties because you woke up to an email from Kobayashi.

You went in yesterday to try on the costume, it fits quite well. You loved the style he was able to encapsulate as well as the functionality it allowed. Once he pinned it in a few places and adjust some things, he bid you farewell.

He said his intern, who was a student at U.A., would make the adjustments that day and be able to give it to you for one more look over in the morning. Additionally, this student would be the person you would be contacting if you ever needed any adjustments.

The email, which also had this student in it, detailed where you two would meet up to do any final adjustments if there was anything after the adjustments made yesterday.

The meeting time was set for 10:00 in the morning and it was currently 7:00, giving you ample time to go on a quick run, shower, and eat something.

Although your morning run was usually an opportunity for you to relax, you ended up feeling more nervous than anything. It was during this run that you were able to finally think about your fight against Bakugou.

You were sure in your abilities and skill with your quirk, enough so that you knew you would be safe. However, you also knew that Bakugou has been waiting for weeks for this rematch. If he won, he would surely gloat. If he lost, he would look like an angry Pomeranian as he demanded another fight.

Additionally, this anger would surely pour-over and affect the fight in a way that could be unsafe.

You felt the pit in your stomach grow just a bit more as you turned up your music and increased your running speed in an attempt to calm down.

By the time you finished running and took a shower, you barely had an appetite. The nerves in your stomach were making the idea of a meal seem disgusting and vile. Despite this, you knew you needed to eat something and forced yourself to drink a protein shake and a piece of toast with jam.

Hopefully not having an empty stomach will help my nerves, you thought as you munched on the toast.

Once the clock inched close enough to 10:00, you made your way to the support team’s school building.

Even though it was the weekend, the building was loud and bustling. Students were running through the halls and rooms with metal in their hands. Cautiously, walked through the building to find a specific room where your new costume designer would be.

Once there, you noticed only one other person in the room.

“Iwasaki Kou-san?” You asked while taking in their outfit and style. Their hair was straight, with some strands falling in front of their face. The rest was pulled back into a white hair tie. The dark color of his hair had hints of blue throughout when hit by the light correctly. With that in mind, it was difficult to identify the hair as one solid shade. However, the most noticeable things about him were his deep eyes and thick eyebrows that made him stand out despite no one else being there.

He was nowhere near as fit as the heroes you surrounded yourself with. However, the black t-shirt he had on shaped his form in a quite flattering way.

You stopped your eyes from wandering lower and you instead looked at his surroundings. He was currently tinkering with something, but you weren’t quite sure what it was. On a mannequin behind him was your hero costume, laying limply across the much too small body.

“Yeah,” He casually replied, the smile forming on his lips was kind, inviting, and yet held a mysteriousness that you couldn’t decipher. “Are you Y/L/N-san?” His voice was soft.

You gulped down and nodded, stepping further into the room.

“Perfect,” He took off the thick gloves that covered your hands and wiped the soot off them with a white cloth he kept tucked into his pants. He then held out his now clean hand to shake your own.

You gently took his own, his calloused hands sending shivers up your spine.

Why do I feel so calm and yet so nervous? You questioned as you forced yourself to smile.

“Shall we get started?” He asked.

“Sure!” You excitedly agreed.

Iwasaki immediately moved to the mannequin and unzipped your uniform. Gently, he handed you the fabric. “You can go into that room there to change,” He explained, pointing to a door on the other side of the classroom. “I’ll pull out all the extra items while you change.

You entered the small room to see that it looked quite like a typical changing room. A small ledge to sit on or hold items, a body-length mirror, and a few hooks to hold items.

The tight bodysuit was a deep blue that looked almost black. Sort of like Kou’s hair, you thought as you pulled it on. Throughout the suit were detailed of neon yellow. As Kobayashi explained to you before, the details were the only stylist and were a way to incorporate your family’s colors without being too cheesy. The arms of the suit stopped just after your shoulder to allow for mobility. The legs, additionally, stopped quickly. You had a small metal waist set that could hold swords and expand to protect vital organs. Your pants stopped midthigh.

You remember specifically telling Kobayashi-san that you wanted skin exposed so you could use your quirk when people touch you, without having a hard to manage skirt.

Once you zipped up your suit, you made your way back into the main classroom.

Iwasaki smiled at you once he saw you.

He was currently surrounded by a variety of dark blues and neon yellows that stood out at all your support items.

He handed you the boots to your suit first.

“I tinkered with the boots a bit, but you shouldn’t notice much difference,” Iwasaki explained. “I was just trying to make them lighter.”

You nodded and you took your time to attach them. The boots stopped under your calf, but straps ran up your leg to attach to a knee cap.

“I’m sure Kobayashi-sensei told you, but the straps are to help prevent injuries from any awkward movements or excessive running. The boots and straps will help you to run faster, but it won’t be by too much so you can get used to the boost. If you want, you can also attach weights to them while you train so that you move faster in the field with the weights off.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Oh and the blade feature on your other boots is the same with these.”

You silently nodded, much too focused on putting everything on correctly.

You then attached the compact shoulder pads to your costume.

You the attached metal cuffs to your wrist that you also assembled to help prevent injuries on your hands or arms. It would also help add weight and power to any punches you would have to throw.

Last but certainly not least were your ear and eye protectors.

Kobayashi brilliantly designed your ear attachments with three different functions. When needed, you could use the ear attachments like your earbuds and prevent you from hearing thoughts. The second function was to increase your hearing distance. Although he was unable to increase your hearing distance for thoughts, he was able to help even out the differences. Now you could hear people from as far as 100 ft without needing to take out the earbuds that help prevent you from hearing thoughts. You were also able to zero in on certain sounds if needed. The final function was a simple Bluetooth addition in case you needed to communicate with other heroes on the field.

“Your ear attachments are cool, but I’m really excited to make them better for you,” Kou smiled calmly and brightly at you. “I want to make them perfect because half of your quirk is so based around your ears.”

Appreciatively, you smiled at the boy. “That’s very nice, thank you.”

Iwasaki sheepishly waved you off, “It’s my pleasure! I became a support student for a reason. If I’m able to figure anything out, I might even make it my final analysis and creation project.”

“Are you a third-year?” You asked.

“Yeah,” The boy blushed lightly and scratched at the back of his head, “I am.”

You simply nodded before attaching the shield to your earpiece that protected your eyes.

You then moved over to look at yourself in the full-body mirror.

I look amazing.

“You like it?” Iwasaki asked, interrupting yourself from going on an analytical tangent for each piece of the costume.

“I love it,” You explained, smiling brightly at yourself.

“I’m glad,” He paused briefly. “I saw your original sketches and I was worried you would hate it. Kobayashi-sensei didn’t tell me how much you two collaborated together, so I didn’t know.

You nodded as you looked at the dark black dots on your left shoulder pad. It wasn’t too noticeable from far away, but you could see it up close against the dark blue.

“Yeah,” You started, “He basically lectured me in a face call and told me I needed to think more about my quirk and what would be best for me, rather than what I thought was cool.” You thought over your next words carefully, “I’m still glad a have a place for my swords. And I have my own black shoulder strap for my biggest sword.”

“Thanks,” Kou said, “I actually thought of the metal sword holder and shield expansion feature.”

“Really?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” He ensured, a smile brightening up his face. “But you should also show me the shoulder strap. Maybe I can make it better or make a new one that will help with weight and comfort.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“You seem to keep forgetting this is literally my job,” He laughed. It sounded beautiful. “My third year is all about helping students and only asking my professors or intern leader for help when I need it.”

You nodded in understanding before adding. “Maybe I will. I’ll make sure to email you about it.”

“Of course,” Kou agreed. “And do you have any other adjustments you want now?”

“No, not really,” You explained, a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Then I guess you are all set if you want to change back,” Iwasaki spoke while slipping on his gloves again.

“Perfect, I’ll be right back then.” You grabbed your suitcase and went back into the small changing room to take off all your support items and costume. When done, you stepped back out, bid Kou a farewell, and left.

You walked back to the dorm with your suitcase, a little bit happier than you expected. The costume fit perfectly at this point, and you were excited to move forward with OOO in all other possible upgrades you could make. Although it wasn’t what you initially envisioned and sketched out when you first met Kobayashi, all the changes he made, with your approval, made the costume much better and more modern.

You reminisced about your first meeting with the designer, where he asked you what kind of hero you wanted to be, a sentiment that OOO was clearly upholding.

After discovery and debate, the new costume that was drawn up fit you much better than you could expect.

It wasn’t until you got back to the dorm that the pit in your stomach reared its ugly head.

The first thing you saw when you opened the large door was a sleepy Bakugou, clearly just woken up.

He was yawning, a small cup of coffee in his hands, and his hair seemed to be more of a mess than usual.

Once he opened his eyes again, he immediately found your own eyes. Although the living room and dining table were crowded with about five other people, he immediately made his way to you.

“You got your hero costume?” He asked. There wasn’t any malicious tinge to his voice, but the gruff sound of his natural voice mixed with the deepness from just waking up made your stomach queasy.

You had half a mind to just run into the bathroom and make yourself puke. However, you swallowed your nerves and nodded, hoping you didn’t look like too much of a fool.

“Maybe we should wear our costumes for our training today,” He smirked at your before eyeing your suitcase that had the number 21 printed on it. “I have a few support items I would love to try out on you.”

The idea sent a shiver up your spine, something that wouldn’t normally happen. Bakugou makes me way too nervous, you thought as you debated over what to make next. In hope of lightening up to conversation a little bit, you asked, “Oh, did Iwasaki make new support items for you too?”

“Iwasaki?” Bakugou spat back, obviously offended. “Not only would I never let that weirdo touch my equipment, but I’m also offended you didn’t realize I made them myself.”

“Iwasaki isn’t weird,” You countered, practically laughing. “He was so nice!”

Bakugou scoffed and looked away from you. “Whatever, I would just rather tinker with my own shit than have him do it. He seems too perfect, that smile of his is so weird.”

Despite still being nervous about the fight, you found yourself laughing at Bakugou’s explanation. “Too perfect?” You spoke in-between laughs. “You really can be funny sometimes, Bakugou—”

You stopped yourself from using an honorific. Not sure if he would prefer a more formal ‘san’ or a friendlier ‘kun’.

Although he clearly noticed your pause and debate on which one to use, he simply glossed over it and replied with an “I am not funny! I am being serious!” The blond groaned in frustration before adding. “You know what? Let’s wear our costumes, and we will actually see how well Iwa-shitty did.”

“Iwasaki barely did anything to my costume,” You reasoned, “He only adjusted a few things, the work is still mostly Kobayashi-san’s.”

“Whatever,” He gruffly replied, “Just bring your damn suitcase so we can change in the lockers beforehand.”

“Whatever your say, Bakugou,” You replied, quietly laughing to yourself at his small and childish fit.

The blond walked away from you without another word, leaving you by yourself with some free time.

The first thing you did was make your way to the kitchen to prepare yourself something to eat. Since it was approaching lunchtime anyway, Iida and Uraraka we currently preparing themselves some food.

“No internship today?” You asked them, remembering seeing each of them go out to internships before.

“Nope!” Uraraka gingerly explained, “We aren’t allowed to have internships on Saturday and Sunday because they want us to have enough time for school.”

“Today is our day off,” Iida added as you watched him mix something in a small, Styrofoam container.

When you got closer, a rank and vile smelled filled your nose. You immediately knew it was coming from the container and backed up while covering your nose.

You had no intention to insult their food preferences, especially because you weren’t from here, but Uraraka immediately noticed your reaction and laughed.

“You’ve never seen natto?” She asked.

You shook your head, not wanting to speak in fear that you would get a bigger sniff of the food.

Iida looked back to see your face. “Sorry,” He spoke.

“No! Don’t worry!” You replied, wanting to be as nice as you could.

Uraraka laughed again. “Natto is fermented soybeans. It might smell weird and the texture is slimy, but it tastes so good in rice, especially with mustard and fish sauce.”

You nodded while peaking over to get a look at the slimy brown beans.

“Do you want to try it?” Iida asked you, turning so you could see his portion of rice and beans.

“Umm,” You mumbled, not sure what to say. You didn’t want to take his food, and you definitely didn’t know if you would like it.

“You should,” Uraraka encouraged. “We can give you just a bit to taste.” She pulled out a bowl from the cabinet and scooped a little of her portion into the bowl. “Even if you don’t like it, you’ll have to get used to it. It’s a cheap, easy, and healthy meal so everyone here eats it often.”

Hesitantly, you grabbed the small bowl and chopsticks she offered you.

“Don’t smell it, “Iida began “Just eat it.”

Listening to Iida, you stopped yourself from smelling the bowl and shoved it into your mouth. Despite 80% of the dish being rice only, the flavor of the natto was most prevalent. You chewed quickly, not sure if it was the type of dish to savor.

You closed your eyes, swallowed the bite, and looked back to your two classmates.

“It looked like you hated it,” Uraraka laughed while munching on her own bowl.

“No,” You countered, “It’s okay. I’m just not used to it.” You got the rest of the rice and bean in-between your chopsticks and finished your bowl. “Thank you for letting my try.”

“No problem,” Iida and Uraraka replied together before they took their leave from the kitchen to seat at the large dining table.

You then scoured the fridge and cupboards for a suitable lunch and settled on fried rice leftovers from dinner the night before. You heated up a bowl and took it upstairs to eat.

Time passed slowly as you worked on homework and had videos playing in the background. Eventually, then the clock read 10 to 3:00pm, you got up from your seat and changed into comfortable workout clothes. You grabbed your suitcase, a large water container, and two different swords before making your way downstairs.

When you got to the front door, Bakugou was already waiting, dressed in comfortable workout clothes. His own suitcase was in his hand as well as two large looking grenades and water.

You didn’t bother even asking what the grenades were for as Bakugou simply waited for you to slip on other shoes.

You followed Bakugou out the door silently. “We’ll start with stretches and then change into our costumes,” Bakugou explained. “I rented out a fourth of the cityscape so we will have plenty of room to move around.”

“Okay,” You replied, “Although I might need some time to warm up with my hero costume because it just got finished today.”

“It can’t be that different, can it?” Bakugou inquired.

“It’s completely different, “You explained. “My older hero uniform was so ugly; it didn’t help my quirk at all and just matched with my family’s theme.”

“Your family has a theme?” He questioned while barking out a laugh. “That’s so cringy.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled, “But it is important to my mom and common in the United States.”

Bakugou simply hummed in response and he brought you to a small field. It was right next to the building that held changing rooms, making it ideal for your short warm-up.

“Do you want to warm up together?” You asked him.

“It’s up to you,” Bakugou replied before setting down his things and beginning his warm-up. It mainly consisted of basic stretches every person typically does.

Following his lead, you dropped your belongings to the side and moved to take off your earbuds.

“You’re taking them off now,” Bakugou asked.

You turned to see him looking at you and replied, “Yeah, is that a problem?”

“Uhh,” Bakugou fumbled, “No, I guess not.”

Ignoring his weird comment, you simply put away the earbuds. I’ll just hear any weird thoughts he has anyway.

What first filled your mind, however, was Bakugou thinking:

Don’t think weird thoughts, don’t think weird thoughts.

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his thoughts which immediately drew his attention.

“What?” He spat out.

“Nothing,” You replied after your laughter died down. I don’t need to tell him about how weird he is being, you told yourself and you began your own stretch routine.

You also needed to warm up your quirk, something you did by focusing on different thoughts around you. Because Bakugou was so close to you, his thoughts we most noticeable. However, it was important to see how far you could take your quirk, so you focused as best your could on different thoughts from people different distances away.

Eventually, when your body felt nice and stretched, you wanted to move on to a jog. After letting Bakugou know, you jogged a few laps around the field while he sprinted to build up a sweat.

Once ready, you made your way into the changing rooms with all your belongings. Bakugou followed shortly behind you.

The second you put it on, you could feel the differences in your hero costume. You felt lighter despite having more on. You took a small lap around the locker room to test your speed. You then tested your earpieces that covered your ears completely. Once satisfied, you attached a dagger to the metal plate around your waist. You brought your largest and heaviest sword today. First, to test out how it works with your costume so you could bring it to Kou with any needed adjustments, and two, to intimidate Bakugou.

No one in your class yet had seen your work with knives, daggers, and swords, making it a surprising advantage if need be. You took another moment to stretch in your hero uniform before exiting the room and meeting back up with Bakugou who was facing away from you and stretching.

Immediately, your eyes found him and stared at his hero costume. It was mainly black, with touches of orange and green. From the first view, it was scary. However, you noticed intricate pieces that made it seem detailed and well thought out. However, what was most interesting to you was how it fit on him.

You would hit yourself if you weren’t so distracted ogling his free arms. They looked much bigger than you had ever seen on him. And yet, they also seemed like the perfect size. He must do a lot of weightlifting, you thought as your eyes then traveled to his waist. It was covered in black cloth, making it impossible to see his abs, but his thin waist was enough to see.

He looks so hot, your thoughts. You were unable to place every piece of his hero costume that made him this attractive, but his arms and waist were the main ones. You gulped down the lump in your throat as you watched him bend over to touch his toes

“Holy shit,” You accidentally spoke aloud.

Immediately, the blond shot up and turned to look at you. “What did you s—?” He began to question before stopping halfway through.

Holy shit, his thoughts similarly echoed yours.

You looked down, very aware that your cheeks were flaring a deep red. Although it definitely boosted your ego to hear him react to your costume like that, it sent waves of anxiety through you. He knows I can hear his thoughts. Why isn’t he stopping himself, you questioned as he thoughtfully admired the way your leg straps hugged your bare thighs.

“Are you ready?” You asked, breaking the thick silence, and hoping to distract him.

You weren’t sure how to feel. On one hand, it felt amazing to hear his thoughts. It was clear he found you attractive. However, that did not mean he liked you as more than a friend, classmate, or whatever he actually thought. You nervously shuffled from one foot to the other and Bakugou shook his head.

You fucking creep, he thought.

“Yeah,” He mumbled. His voice was raspy, and he immediately grabbed his water from the ground and chugged a good portion. He then picked up all his items and you silently followed him to the cityscape.

Both of you were stuck in your own thoughts. You debated whether or not this situation was a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll definitely have to talk to Ashido and Hagakure later. And Bakugou was currently wondering over if you heard him.

What are those things are her ears? Can she hear me with them? Maybe she can’t… I could ask her what they are. No, that’s too obvious!

“So,” You eventually began after Bakugou signed in on a sheet of paper that hung at the entrance of the cityscape. “Are you wanting to do a ruled match? Or are you wanting to do a bad guy versus good guy things?” You were trying to break the awkward silence, hoping that fighting would distract you both from the nerves you were feeling.

“A match,” He simply replied. His voice wavered more than it typically would, however, it evened out more and more as he continued to talk. “It will end when the other person admits defeat or is too injured to play.”

“Oof, that sounds intense,” You jokingly replied. You needed to give this match your all. Bakugou was a competitor and should be treated as a stepping stone for you to improve your quirk usage. Hopefully, Bakugou's thoughts and actions were slow enough for you to interpret and prevent them. That would be the key factor in who won today.

Bakugou laughed in response. The typical bark of a laugh that you had become too quickly acquainted to. “Yeah, well you better be ready.”

You two took your time making it to your designated area and choosing a spot to store your suitcases and waters. Once done, Bakugou put on the grenades he had been carrying onto his forearms.

“What do those do?” You innocently asked.

“I’m not telling you, they’re a surprise for later.”

Similarly, to how Bakugou would, you scoffed at his reply. “That was so cringy,” You added.

In response, Bakugou rolled his eyes and let out a simple, “Whatever.”

You genuinely smiled while you watch him finish securing the large grenades to his forearms.

I wonder what his first attacks will be, you thought. Those grenades can’t be his first attack. It must be something that builds up energy. Smirking, you thought of a way to make his motives clear.

“What’s your first attack against me going to be?” You asked him.

The blond whipped his head around and looked at you with squinted eyes. “Like I would ever tell you.” Don’t think about how you plan to worsen her hearing, you heard him think.

You tried your best not to react to him revealing his thoughts and simply frowned. “I guess it was worth a try.”

Bakugou didn’t bother replying and simply faced you. “Ready?” He asked as he cracked his knuckles and neck.

You simply shrugged, trying your best to look casual. I need to get away from him before he can explode out my eardrums. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” You nonchalantly responded.

You waited for a beat, just enough time to move before Bakugou. Luckily, the straps on your legs helped greatly to increase your speed. It made you feel lighter and helped smooth out your movements enough to save a decent amount of time. You were out of Bakugou’s eyesight in a flash, leaving him baffled. She’s faster than I remember. By the time he recovered enough to chase after you, you had turn multiple corners and climbed up a fire escape attached to one of the skyscrapers.

Bakugou launched himself into the sky to move faster He was clearly looking to attack quickly instead of surprise you. You used the sharp and retractable blades attached to your shoes to smash a window, timing the shattering glass sounds to the sound of his explosions.

You moved into the building, hoping he would be unable to see the shattered glass with him moving so quickly. Inside the building, you drew your dagger, just in case he found you. I’ll throw it at him if need be, you thought and you began moving higher and higher up the floors.

As Bakugou soared through the sky, he found himself analyzing the ground more than anything else. After searching a decent distance, he realized something must be off. She can’t be on the ground if I can see her from here, you hear him think. He then landed on one of the taller buildings and looked around.

I didn’t see any climbing materials on her costume unless those straps are detachable? Bakugou thought over each piece of your costume, noting whether or not they could be used to climb up buildings. He began jumping from building to building, looking for a signal.

And that’s when he saw it.

Shattered glass on the grated ground of a fire escape, teetering from side to side as if recently moved and threatening to fall a floor below.

Excitedly, Bakugou pounced on the building and peered into the room. She isn’t on this floor anymore, he noted while debating to go down or up. I’ll find you soon, he thought as he searched below first. It took him approximately 10 seconds to realize you didn’t move lower down the building. He quickly moved higher and higher, searching through the windows on each floor in hopes of seeing a flash of dark blue and yellow.

She must be on the staircase, he thought after being unable to find you. That’s the only place without windows, he reasoned before debating whether to move into the staircase himself or go to the roof where he presumed you were going to be.

His thoughts were clear to you and did not affect your plan in the slightest. With ease, you made your way to the roof. You didn’t want to tire yourself out too much. You opened the clunky door only to be hit with a gust of wind. This school must be rich to be able to simulate gusts of wind, you thought as you spotted the large fans that were scattered across the walls of this cityscape.

You perched yourself on the metal box that was warm enough to help against the wind.

Now it is just a waiting game, you thought as you simply listened to Bakugou’s thoughts.

Eventually, and predictably, he showed up through the same door you came into. You had positioned yourself behind where he would show up so he initially didn’t see you.

Quietly, you looked around the small building and watched as he peered across the sky.

There’s no way she could have gotten off from here unless she climbed down.

You put away your dagger and de-sheathed your large sword. It was chunky and sharp with a wide and heavy handle to keep it sturdy. Before Bakugou could turn or hear you, you pushed forward and kicked the blond with the bottom of your heavy boot.

He stumbled but did not fall to the floor. You held up your sword, using it to extend your arm. As soon as Bakugou turned to look at you, his neck was greeted by the sharp sword only inches away. He didn’t move for a moment, but quickly recovered and sent a blast your way. Now within a small distance, he sent off multiple small explosions. Not only did you cower to get away from his explosion, but the small explosions made it difficult to hear his thoughts.

You pushed forward despite your nerves to the boy and used the flat edge of your sword to hit him. Not sharp enough to harm him, but still a force to be reckoned with. Additionally, the thin sharp edge that was intended for use may seep in enough from the pressure to give him a small cut.

He shot back instantly, and a small amount of blood dripped from his arm. He was breathing heavily, as were you. Although he was not attacking in this moment, he still set off explosions to impede upon your quirk. You didn’t know Bakugou’s fighting style well, but you knew enough. From what you were able to pick up, you knew he intended to go for hand-to-hand combat.

Idiot, you thought while widening your stance and bending at the kneed to prepare yourself. The 50-foot distance between the two of you closed quickly as he pounced on you. Smoothly, you were able to dodge and keep a good distance with your sword and sharp blades on your shoes.

“You really should listen to my mom’s defensive lectures,” You commented. “Playing an offensive role will only get you so far.” You mocked him, watching his eyebrows turn down in anger and his thoughts rush with the idea of just fucking hit her.

You moved out of the way for each of his attacks, only feeling the heat of an explosion or the brush of his fingertips.

When the time was right, you held your sword with only one hand and pushed forward to grab onto his arm. You twisted it before he could react to make sure he could not send an explosion your way. Currently, you were positioned so your right hand held onto his left forearm. His body was twisted so his back was to your right shoulder. The blond twisted his head to look at you and continued to send off explosions to hopefully distract you.

With every explosion, you felt a pulse through his veins, and you held tightly. He groaned in pain at the action, making you realize that his wrist was a weak spot for him. “Oh, so do you have these protect your forearms and wrists?” You asked, gesturing to the large grenades.

His emotions and thoughts made his arms clear. Not just that, you idiot.

“I am not an idiot,” You replied, feigning offense.

Bakugou scoffed in reply and you laughed back at him.

“I’m winning right now, you know?” You spat back, “I wouldn’t scoff at me when I could end this battle right here.”

“Oh yeah?” Bakugou encouraged, “How?”

“Like this…sleep.” You immediately put him to sleep, something he wasn’t expected. You could tell from his thoughts that he wasn’t thinking much about this part of your quirk. Once asleep, you thought over what to do next.

You dragged his heavy body to the edge of the building, wondering if he would wake up in time to save himself if you threw him off.

I don’t think I should risk it, you thought.

Sighing, you pulled him away from the roof, pushed him farther into sleep and let go. You sat down on the ledge and waited a few minutes for the blond to wake up. You pat yourself on the back for getting him to sleep for so long and casually waited for the time to end.

It took a total of 15 minutes for the blond to finally beginning rising. Another minute for him to realize where he was. He looked up at you with a quizzical face.

“If this wasn’t training and you were a real villain, I would have thrown you off this building,” You explained. “I think I win.”

“Like hell you do,” Bakugou groggily replied while getting up. He moved into a fighting stance and you stayed put. “Are you going to get up?” He yelled at you.

You hummed, debating what to do next. “I don’t feel like it,” You replied, knowing full well how much it would irritate him.

“Then I’ll send you off the roof with an explosion,” He spat back.

“No,” You calmly replied, “I don’t think you will.”

“And why is that?” He asked.

You smirked at the boy. “Because,” You began while letting go of the ledge with your hands and leaning back, “Of this.” Once you finished those words, your body fell back and off the building. You positioned your body as safely as you could.

Obviously, this was a dangerous tactic. It was something you would never do in the field. However, you needed to have fun every now and then and Bakugou was so easy to tease. You knew he had a fast enough reaction time to get you. That was proved correct when you saw his body shoot off the side of the building.

Explosion after explosion was set off until you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist.

You looked down and saw you were about 10 feet to the ground. Bakugou reached out and grabbed onto a fire escape. “Jump down,” Bakugou spoke, his voice low.

His arm slipped away from you as you prepared yourself to fall to the ground. Your shoes, which could absorb shock, helped to make the jump easy and comfortable. Bakugou followed you, dropping a few feet away.

You stood silently as the blond stared at you before practically running up to you.

“What is wrong with you?” He demanded while holding onto your arms and shaking you.

Because of the large gloves on his hands, you weren’t able to feel his emotions. However, you were fairly certain he was worried.

You felt bad.

You felt really bad.

His eyes held more worry than you had seen from him and his thoughts had been rushing so much during these past thirty seconds that it gave you a headache. You were sure he had one too.

“I’m sorry,” You bashfully replied. “I wanted to shock you.”

“Yeah, well you did that perfectly,” He replied. He groaned while looking over your body, wanting to see if you got hurt.

“I’m not hurt,” You mumbled, pulling away from him because of how nervous his staring made you feel.

He reluctantly let go of you and let you step away.

“I didn’t mean to worry you so much,” You commented, stopping there because you weren’t sure whether or not to say sorry. That might be too far, you thought.

Bakugou stiffened immediately. It was clear those words made him nervous.

Worry? You heard him think. Fuck, I am worried. I shouldn’t be worried. I shouldn’t be worried. But I am.

Bakugou scoffed, “I have to worry for stupid idiots like you.” Why am I so worried about her? I wouldn’t be this worried about anyone else.

You simply nodded, not wanting to remind him that you could hear his thoughts. “So,” You began after a short pause, “Are we done for today?”

“After the heart attack you gave me today?” He rhetorically questioned, “Yeah, we are done for today.”

Once again, you nodded and followed Bakugou as he began walking to where you left your bags.

“Next time,” He began as your items came into sight, “Let’s just rent out part of the gym and work on hand-to-hand combat. That way,” He turned to look at you, “You can’t pull any dumb tricks.” He paused for a moment, “Also so you don’t fucking cut me with your sword again.”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, moving closer to the blond to look at his cut. “I forgot!”

Once you got to your item, you opened your suitcase and pulled out rubbing alcohol, a couple of band aids, and a Japanese brand for Neosporin.

“Here,” You began, showing the small first aid kit, “Let me clean it.”

Bakugou reluctantly sat down and allowed you to scoot close to him. You rinsed your hands off by pouring some of your water onto them before grabbing a cotton ball and also putting water onto it. You used the wet cotton ball to clean the blood around the cut, some of it was already dry. You then took another cotton ball and put a small amount of alcohol onto it.

Carefully, you ran the cotton ball over the small cut on his arm. Bakugou took a sharp breath in because of the stinging but stayed still as you cleaned it. You pulled it away and looked up at the blond. Your hands had been holding your arm still, allowing you to feel just how nervous he was.

Unfortunately, because of your quirk, you felt the exact same feelings as him. You tried your best to resist any obvious reactions and let go of his arm, so you were no longer being bombarded with nervousness.

When you looked up at him, you saw pink on his cheeks, and you weren’t sure if it was from the training or the anxiety he felt as you took care of him. Additionally, you were fairly certain you also had a blush because of your empathetic abilities. He looked into your eyes for a moment before you tore your own away and went to grab the ointment.

Cautiously, you spread a small amount onto the cut. You then took a few band-aids and spread them across his arms to cover the wound.

“Thanks,” Bakugou quietly spoke once you finished and started putting away the items.

“No problem,” You simply replied before grabbing your water and taking a swig.

Silently, the two of you grabbed your things and made your way to the lockers. The school provided showers in the locker room and well as all the necessary toiletries to help prevent kids from easily stinking up their dorms. Considering your run today and all the hard work you did, you decided a shower before going back to the dorms would be best.

“You don’t have to wait up for me,” You spoke as you two arrived at the lockers. “I’m going to shower.”

Bakugou hummed in response and entered his respective room. You casually and efficiently changed, washed your body, and put on your workout clothes again. They weren’t smelly from only stretching so it wasn’t bad to wear them.

You pushed your dry hair back, put in your earbuds, and grabbed all your things to make your way out of the locker room.

When you exited, you immediately saw Bakugou, who was leaning against a rail on his phone. His items were placed next to him and his left hand was shoved into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Took you long enough,” He mumbled while looking at you. “You didn’t even wash your hair, what took you forever?”

“I told you not to wait for me,” You replied, “It is your fault for waiting.”

Bakugou scoffed and grabbed his things. “Whatever,” He mumbled before beginning to walk back to the dorms. “I wanted to talk to you about dinner tomorrow,” He explained, “And I didn’t want to text your later.”

“Wow,” You replied in a dry voice, “You sure do know how to make someone feel special.”

“Shut up idiot,” He spat back. You could once again see pink on his cheeks but chose to ignore it. “Anyways,” He began again, “Meet me in the kitchen at four. Sero will be there at five. I want to see how well you can cook.”

“What are we making?” You asked.

“Rice with umeboshi, miso soup, salad, some other shit,” Bakugou replied. “It’s a lot. I know in America that dishes aren’t broken up as much so I will show you everything tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Thanks. I appreciate you trying to help teach me.”

“Yeah, well I will kick you out just as fast if you suck,” He replied.

You looked to Bakugou and saw the teasing smirk on his face. You laughed at his comment which was soon followed by a few snickers from the blond himself.

By the time you and Bakugou arrived home, the conversation died down. Silently, the two of you filled up your waters and walked upstairs to your respective rooms.

“See ya,” Bakugou lazily spoke before heading into his own room and leaving you to yourself.

125 notes · View notes

daydream-believin · 4 years ago

Text

Flowers Have Feelings

summary: it's valentines and you're making some gifts for your good pal douxie,,, also confessing

warnings: swearing probably, no proofread cause tired

word count: 2659

a/n: i've been struggling with writers block. i guess. i've returned to this only to write like, a paragraph so many times. which is bad cause like cheese designed the bouqeut and this should have been done ages ago. idk idk bon appetit

tags: @yagirlcheesely, is for you

image below: sketch of the bouquet

You jumped out of bed and slammed your alarm. Today was the day. You had to get everything ready today. Tonight would be the presentation. The night you finally do it. The night you confessed to your closest friend and crush, Douxie. Also happened to be Valentine’s day.

Your friends may have told you: “Just be patient. Drop hints. If he likes you, he’ll let you know.” But you weren’t about that passive love life. You liked to grab that strawberry cow by the horns. Subtly was boring and took far too long. You were in love with your friend and you were gonna let him know frankly if it killed you. It probably would, to be honest.

As confident as this makes you sound, you were aware of the possibility of him not liking you back, and that was okay. Sure, your heart would be shattered and you might not be very peachy for, say, a month or six, but you accepted that. At first, you had resigned yourself to just adoring him secretly. But you quickly grew impatient with that. What were you afraid of, really? Him letting you down gently, and ushering you two into an era of awkwardness? Okay so maybe that was worth considering. But not really. You wouldn’t let it come to that. Even if he did turn you down, you weren’t about to let that fact taint your friendship like that. You two were very close, and Douxie wasn’t the kind of guy to suddenly treat you differently after such a thing. Just a few weeks of awkwardness at most before all was forgotten (on his end at least). Only a problem for you. But, boy, it would be really, really nice, and not awkward, if he reciprocated.

You and Douxie were thick as thieves. There wasn’t a thing you hadn’t told each other. Not a secret between a pair of buddies as close as you. Oh, one thing, you know. The fact that you had caught feelings, that was definitely something you had kept secret from him. As eager as you were to do so, you couldn’t just drop a bombshell like that at any old time. That’s why you chose today of all days to confess; a little extra luck from St. Valentine. A little magic to give you a boost, placebo or not. This was going to happen. This was going to work.

You strapped on your helmet, safety first, before heading out on your bike. You cleared your schedule for the day cause you weren’t really sure if everything would work out or not. You could have everything done and ended wrapped up neatly in a few hours, or you could have a complete disaster on your hands, which could take up all your time. Time you would happily give, since you were determined for everything to be perfect. It was also nice to know you didn’t have to come in to work later,, lest you spend the whole night, crying your eyes out. You shuddered at the possibility. You were gonna stop thinking about that now. Yeah, only confidence now.

You may be a teensy bit sleep deprived. Only a teensy bit. You chugged a monster this morning, you’ll be fine. It wasn’t your fault you were up all night researching flower language. There were so many flowers, and those flowers had so many feelings. Eventually though, you managed to settle on a bouquet of roses, daisies, and dandelions. Fern leaves for greenery too. Greenery was important for flower arrangements. It tied the whole thing together. While it wouldn’t be the most on theme color scheme, the yellows, whites, reds, and greens, would mix together prettily. You definitely didn’t have to go as far as this, and you were banking on the fact that Douxie even knew flower language, but it was sweet, it was romantic. And you were going to be romantic about this, dammit.

Daisies, for friendship. It was really important that you communicate just how much you valued Douxie’s friendship and how nothing would change between you two if he were to not return your feelings. Red, red roses, classic romance. There was a reason the blooms were so strongly associated with the valentines holiday itself; no one sees a red rose and thinks of anything other than love and romance. A clear message to your beloved. And well, the dandelions? Cheery, beautiful, resilient, common weeds, never to be approved of, finding the strength to bloom despite assholes like Merlin’s best efforts. Dandelions were Douxie’s favorite flower.

Too bad the florist didn’t even consider them to be anything but said common weed. You had included them in your order when you called it in and you could hear the florist laugh, but muffled as if he put his hand over the receiver, before returning to the phone to inform you that you would have to add them yourself. Pretty rude, if you say so. No matter, hand-picked dandelions would be romantic, anyways. Even if no one else knew about it but you.

You placed the bouquet neatly into the basket of your bike. You’d pick the dandelions to complete it later, right before the big confession, in order to keep them fresh. But as of now, the bouquet peaked out of your basket, the floral fragrance wafting up to your face as you made your way to the next store.

Last week, you had seen such an adorable little box of chocolates. It had chocolates shaped like little skulls, flowers, and ghost cats, and the box had a silly pun about death. Goth chocolate, def. It would have been perfect for the edgy wizard in your life, but alas, it was way too fucking expensive. Like obscenely expensive. But no matter, you’d just steal the idea. How hard could making chocolate be anyway?

You left the grocery store with your haul safe in your skull-patterned reusable shopping bag. Wizard-chic and eco-friendly, it was your favorite bag. The contents of the much-loved bag? Melting chocolates, a jar of marmalade, a jar of raspberry jam, a jar of strawberry jam, and a new roll of wax paper, since you were out. Now you weren’t as ambitious as to make your own jam here. This was a failsafe. There are only so many ways to ruin chocolates if you did not make the chocolate nor the filling yourself. Now just a quick run in the stationary shop on your way home for a cute box, and you were all ready to start your chocolatier career.

* * *

Douxie was getting antsy. Not many patrons had paid a visit to his bookstore this afternoon. Which was strange for valentine’s. and it left him with nothing but his thoughts to entertain his anxious mind. Doux had a lot to worry about. His band had a gig in a new town, so he wasn’t sure how they would be received. He was waiting on a shipment of books that was supposed to show up days ago. It may have gotten lost. That Lake kid was getting himself into more and more trouble these days and it was starting to become hard to help out without overstepping his vaguely imposed bounds. But most of all, at the very moment, he was worried about you.

You had asked him to meet up for dinner tonight. Okay, pretty normal for a Sunday night. Not that the weekend meant anything to either of you, but you normally set aside Sunday for dinner hangout. So nothing to abnormal. But then. Then, you said, something… Douxie actually can’t recall what you said, per se, just that it was along the lines of “we need to talk.” And that your tone sounded nervous. He did not like that one bit, nope nope. He had spent a great part of the day just revisiting every interaction the two of you had had in the last month or so, desperate to figure out if he did something wrong. But he was coming up blank, for all his efforts. Across the room, the clock ticked on. It would be closing time soon enough, and then he’d no longer have to wonder just what he did wrong, as you would be there to tell him directly. Fuzzbuckets, he couldn’t wait.

* * *

You wiped the goopy chocolate off of your cheek with the back of your hand. So far this wasn’t a total disaster. You had at least seven chocolate skulls filled and drying in the molds. The white chocolate seemed to have melted smoother than the regular chocolate? The regular chocolate ones looked kind of lumpy. You hoped they came out of the molds okay. Not to mention the ones you already messed up. A little mountain of chocolate pieces and jam had started rising from your table top corner.

It had been lots of fun at the start. melting the chocolates with a double boil, planning out which molds would be which flavors. But actually filling those molds? A messy, messy ordeal. You had chocolate and jam all over your kitchen, up to your exposed elbows, and even a little in your hair. But that was okay. You’d clean the kitchen later. With the molds in the freezer to set, your priority now was cleaning yourself up rather than the kitchen.

And you cleaned up nice, if you did say so yourself. You got the chocolate out of your hair, and had on a fresh outfit, taking a little time to put effort into your style. You looked snazzy, but not too fancy. You needed to stay casual. Something that you hoped would make Douxie be like ‘wow they look pretty okay’ but not freak him out with formality. Yeah. This was good.

Your watch beeped. Okay, you needed to get out of here, no more dilly dallying. You pulled the candies you made out of the freezer. Moment of truth. Thank the stars, all of the chocolates came out of the molds smoothly without breaking. You arranged them in the cute circular box you set up earlier and folded the tissue paper over them. They all fit in perfectly. The cheesy valentine card, the most important part, didn’t quite fit on top of the candies, you’d have to put it with the bouquet. You slid the lid onto the box and fastened a bow around it with a blue ribbon. Maybe this was a bit overkill, but Douxie knew how to appreciate the dramatic. He’d love it, you were sure.

Last but not least, you headed to the greenspace across the street from your apartment for the final ingredient in your Douxie wooing, dandelions. You were lucky that the empty lot had recently bloomed an entire garden’s worth of the yellow things. The chilly breeze mussed up your newly-fixed hair as you danced about gathering the tiny flowers, adding to the bouquet until you felt like it was enough. Which took longer than you had hoped. You definitely could have kept adding in more dandelions but your watch beeped once again and you had no choice but to make peace with the level of yellow and book it to the bookstore where you and Douxie were supposed to meet before heading out for the night.

* * *

Hearing the ding of the door chime, Douxie turned around to kindly inform the customer who came in that he wasn’t open, but the words caught in his throat when he was met with your smile. There you were, standing in the shop with a box in one hand and flowers in the other. You looked cute. Really cute. But Douxie chased that thought away. He fumbled with the book he had been re-shelving. It fell out of his hand unceremoniously, landing with a thud.

“Hey,” Doux managed to get out. “What’s all-”

“These are for you!” you shoved the presents into his now empty hands. That courage you had earlier? Gone. Your resolve? Dissolving as we speak. You had to get this over with before you chickened out. He was just so good, okay. And why did you think this was a good idea. Douxie looked down at the gifts in his hands confused, before blushing. If he could have reached a hand behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck he would have.

“I didn’t know we were doing Valentine’s, uh. I feel bad I didn’t get you anything.”

“Oh! Don’t be. I just,, felt like doing something nice for you and uh, special,” Douxie tilted his head. You took the box, freeing up his hand. “These are chocolates I made, like, like you’re supposed to do.” You waltzed over to the counter to place them out of the way. “The bouquet is the real star here, uh, I picked them out very carefully.” You tucked your arms behind your back. “I, uh- I brushed up on flower language, and I hope I got it right.”

Now Douxie may have been a Victorian once upon a time but he had barely any surviving memory of the frilly flower language people socialized through in those days. But thankfully, the blooms in the bouquet in front of him were straight forward enough that he did in fact get the message without taking too much gear turning in that noggin of his. Although, the friendly daisies with the red roses were kind of sending him some mixed signals. He knew what he wanted them to mean, but he could just be misinterpreting. You seemed to notice his hesitation.

“Um, there’s a card too. In the flowers somewhere. That. Probably explains what I’m trying to say a little clearer.” You carded your fingers through your hair. You had anticipated not being able to really speak with your voice, as you barely could now, so you’d written it all out on the card as backup. But damn, that card had everything on it. You maybe got a little carried away. There wasn’t going to be any going back from this.

Douxie dug out the card from amidst the blooms. It was handmade, with a cheesy little drawing on the front complete with a pun. And then he opened it. It was almost solid black with ink. Yeah, you had written that much in there. Both sides. And a little on the back. Wow. Doux tried his best to keep up a poker face while reading it but failed quickly as the first few lines alone left him flushed. It was true, everything was on it. From how much you adored Douxie as a person, to how much you valued his friendship, to how pretty you thought he was, to how you longed for something more, with him? Douxie felt like his hands were getting the card all sweaty.

It was nerve wracking watching him read that card. It seemed like he was finished, since his eyes stopped raking through it, but now he was staring intensely at the words written on the pages, in a trance. He broke focus, looking to the bouquet, back to the card, and then finally settled on you.

“Wow.”

“… is that a good wow?”

Douxie caught you by surprise. He pulled into a hug. “Yeah, a good wow.”

You and Douxie’s first non-platonic hug? Yes please. You didn’t even mind the flowers pressing into your back. Okay so a few rose thorns were poking you but that was fine. Douxie smelled like something you couldn’t name, but it was spicy, and cozy. He let you go sooner than you were ready to, but he grinned at you as he left to rummage through his things in the back for a vase. He turned to you as he proudly displayed them on the store’s counter, right where he could look at them all workday,

“So, where are we going tonight? For our first date?” Doux chuckled, “and, technically, our first Valentine’s day too.”

#valentines💘#douxie x reader #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #douxie casperan imagine #tales of arcadia x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #my writing

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yesmooshoe · 4 years ago

Note

6) (i) from the AU list for ironhusbands? 👀💖

You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you.

“Rhodey Rhodey Rhodey! I need help!” Tony cried out as he burst through the front door of their drafty apartment.

Rhodey’s head shot up to look at him, but he didn’t move from the nest he’d created on their couch. He was wrapped in several blankets with a few large stacks of books and notebooks surrounding him. Mid-Terms started next week, and he had a lot of material to get through.

As Tony stumbled over some of Rhodey’s books on his way into the living room, he finally noticed all of the shopping bags that Tony was carrying.

“Did you get a haircut?” Rhodey asked, seeing that his friend’s usually unkempt hair was freshly trimmed and styled.

“Yeah, and I got a bunch of new clothes. I have a date! An actual date! And all of my clothes are trash and I’ve got no idea what to wear so I went to the mall and just like bought everything that looked cool because I just really want her to think I’m cool.” Tony rambled as he dropped the bags to the floor and started tearing through them.

“Wait, hold up. You have a what?”

“A date!” Tony said with a big smile.

“With who?” Rhodey asked as he closed his book, realizing that this was going to be a thing. Tony didn’t date. If he wasn’t at the apartment he was either at class or in the robotics lab, and he didn’t really have any other friends.

Until this year, at least. Tony was 17 and finally the same age as some of his fellow classmates, so Rhodey had noticed him being a bit more social. Still, Rhodey felt very protective, and while he’d never admit it out loud, he kind of missed having Tony all to himself.

“Uh, Amy Lin? She’s a freshman! And she’s on the robotics team and she’s just super cool and smart and we were sitting outside today and she was like 'hey do you want to go out sometime?' and I was like 'what do you mean, we're already outside.' and then she laughed and was like 'no like...go out. On a date.' and I just felt like such an idiot and I didn't know what to say but eventually I managed to say yes I think and well now we're going on a date! And I have no idea what to wear, you gotta help me. Everything I own is ripped or has burn holes from welding or is covered in grease and who knows what else and I just want to look good."

Rhodey resisted the urge to tell him that he'd look good in a paper bag, and did his best to swallow his own jealousy before he started helping him look through the bags.

The crush on Tony was very new.

Two years ago Tony had just been this quiet, nerdy kid who didn't know how to do his own laundry and was afraid of his own shadow. This year though? This year he was just different. Over the Summer he'd grown a few more inches, gotten his braces off, discovered contact lenses, and overall just came off as more mature and confident. Rhodey's jaw had literally dropped when he saw him for the first time at the beginning of the semester, and ever since then he'd been struggling with a lot of feelings.

"Uhh, ok. Well first of all, where are you going?" Rhodey asked as he pulled out item after item, which ranged from a leather jacket to a tuxedo, so he wasn't sure what the vibe was going to be.

"Bowling."

Rhodey just laughed. "You bought a brand new tuxedo to go bowling? Is that what you rich white people do?"

"I...I mean, I don't know. She mentioned maybe getting dinner at one point and I think I just panicked like what if she wanted to go somewhere fancy instead of bowling and all of a sudden and I just started grabbing everything I could possibly need." Tony explained, sounding a bit exasperated.

"Dude, take a deep breath. It's going to be ok."

"I know I just...I want to do everything right. I want her to like me, ya know?"

"She will! She already does. She asked you out, didn't she?"

"Yeah but...I don't know. I don't know what to do. I'm just not used to this. People liking me. I’ve always been so much younger than everyone at school and no one ever talked to me and I always just feel like I missed out on learning how to be a normal teenager. I don’t know how to date." Tony admitted, being way more candid about his feelings than Rhodey was used to.

"You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Just go out and have fun. Be yourself."

"I’m just afraid she’s going to see what a huge nerd I am and change her mind."

“You guys are on the robotics team. You’re both nerds. It’ll be fine.

“I just -

“Tony.” Rhodey Interrupted. He hated when Tony got like this, and something in him just snapped. “Stop being so down on yourself. You’re funny and smart and sweet and you tell great stories and you’re so enthusiastic about your work and about learning new things so that you can change the world. You’re incredible. And I’m sorry that no one in your life has ever told you that before, but it’s all true and if she sees what I see then...then she’ll love you, ok?”

Tony was just staring at him like a deer in headlights, and Rhodey immediately knew that he’d said way too much. He just hated when Tony got like this, and he wanted him to just see how great he actually was.

“Rhodey I…” Tony started, clearly unsure of what to say in response to that, and Rhodey’s stomach just dropped. Had he completely fucked this up? Had he made everything weird? There was nothing weird about telling your friend that you love him, right? Even if you did happen to have a huge crush on that friend?

They were both silent for what felt like forever, though in reality it was only a few seconds.

“You’ll be fine. Anyway. So when is this date?”

Tony glanced down at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet her in 45 minutes.”

“Well, then we’d better get to work.” Rhodey said as he stood up and grabbed an armload of clothes.

They made quick work of it, just putting Tony in jeans, a red t-shirt, the leather jacket, and a fresh pair of Chuck Taylors. They were a little quiet at first, but soon they found their way back to the joking and teasing they were used to. As Tony stood in the hallway trying to fix his hair the way the lady at the hair salon had told him too, Rhodey just stood back and admired his work. There was nothing spectacular about the clothes, but they were new and clean and fit him well. And the leather jacket was driving Rhodey crazy. As he watched Tony from behind, he wanted nothing more than to grab him, pin him against the wall, and have his way with him.

There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t do that, especially since he was literally about to leave to go on a date with someone else. With a girl.

“How do I look?” Tony asked, spinning around and giving him a big smile.

“Great.” Rhodey replied simply, resisting the urge to say hot. He didn’t want to make anything else weird.

Tony seemed unsure, but looked at his watch again and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, I gotta go. Thank you. For everything. Don’t study too hard, all right?” He said with a little smile before taking one more look at himself in the mirror and then heading out.

Rhodey tried to focus on studying after that, but he just couldn’t. He was jealous, he was embarrassed, and most of all he was horny. He took care of the latter problem a few minutes after Tony left, but after that he just laid on his bed and started at a crack in the ceiling while a million thoughts raced through his head.

This crush on Tony was stupid. Tony obviously wasn’t gay, right? And being gay in the Air Force sounded like a not-so-great idea anyway, so Rhodey really had to work on resisting these crushes if he ever wanted the chance to fly. Still, he couldn’t get that image of Tony in the leather jacket out of his mind, nor could he get over how jealous he felt.

He figured that the best way to get over it was to distract himself, so he got up, took a cold shower, ate some dinner, and settled in back on the couch to watch TV and wait for Tony to get home. Despite the jealousy, he wanted to hear about the date and how it went. He just wanted Tony to be happy, and if dating Amy made him happy, then he’d do his best to be enthusiastic about it. At least on the surface.

Not long after Rhodey settled on the couch Tony came home and immediately plopped down next to him.

“Hey, you’re home early. How’d it go?” Rhodey asked, genuinely shocked that he was home. It hadn’t even been two hours, and he was just glad that he hadn’t decided to jerk off again.

“Yeah, it was fine. I mean, I had fun. We bowled and had some pizza and then sketched up an idea on a napkin for a bowling robot that we might try to build next week.” Tony said as he stared at the floor while fidgeting around with his zipper. “And then like, we were in the arcade part. Playing pinball. And she kissed me.”

“Well hey! That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know. It was weird. I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone before so I’ve not got much to compare it too. But like, it was like kissing my sister. If I had a sister, I guess. I don’t know. Just didn’t do much for me.” Tony admitted quietly, and Rhodey had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, Tony kept talking. “And then it was a little awkward and she said that she didn’t feel like bowling anymore so we turned in our shoes and then she said that she thought that maybe we should just be friends.”

“Oh. Well shit, that sucks man, I’m sorry. But this is only your first date, there are plenty of other girls out there! There’s even at least 1 more on the robotics team, right? I’m sure you’ll find someone that makes you feel that spark.” Rhodey said as he put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. He just didn’t want him getting too down on himself.

Tony just looked up at him and smiled, and it was a look that Rhodey would have to file away to use later. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s fine. She still wants to be friends, so that’s good. Friends are good. I’m gonna go change, ok?”

“Sure.”

Tony stood up to head to his room, but then stopped and hesitated for a moment.

“Tony? You all right?” Rhodey asked as Tony turned to look at him. He was quiet for a moment, like he was searching for what to say.

“Are you doing anything Friday night?” Tony finally asked.

“No.” Rhodey answered, confused.

“Do you - would you be interested in like - going out?”

“W-what?” Rhodey stuttered out as his heart started pounding. This wasn’t actually happening, was it?

“Go out? Like...on a date? I guess? Unless I read that whole situation earlier wrong.”

“I…” Rhodey just trailed off, completely taken by surprise by all of this. “Um. A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Uh...ok. Yeah. We can do that, if you’re sure.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sure. Been thinking about it all night.”

“Oh.”

“Ok, so. It’s a date, yeah? Dinner? Movie? I don’t know, that’s what people do, right?” Tony said as he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

“We’ll figure something out.”

Tony nodded again and turned to head to his room.

“Hey, Tony?” Rhodey called out after him, causing Tony to stop and turn to him. “Whatever we do, promise me you’ll wear the leather jacket.” Rhodey said with a confident little smile, finally regaining a bit of composure.

A huge grin spread across Tony’s face, like he was finally relaxing too. “All right.”

Rhodey was terrified, but also so excited that he couldn’t imagine focusing on his notes anymore. After Tony disappeared Rhodey ran straight to his room and to his closet, desperately looking through all of his clothing. Nothing seemed good enough, so he figured he’d have to take a trip to the mall himself tomorrow. He wasn’t sure he could look as good as Tony did in the leather, but he could certainly try.

#rhodee #ironhusbands #tonyrhodey #rhodeytony #james rhodes #tony stark #mooshfics #hello tony looks very good in leather jackets and rhodey agreeeeeeees #asks

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 1: Logince

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 1: Your soulmate’s name is on your wrist.

Content: Flower/Tattoo Shop AU, background character death (unspecified cause, none of the sides), that’s pretty much it, it’s just soft Logince.

Word count: 2.7k

A small ding from the store entrance pulled Roman out of his thoughts, and he groaned softly. It was nearing the end of his shift, almost closing time, and another customer at this time would probably mean he was staying after hours again. All he wanted to do was go home and watch cheap reality TV in his sweatpants while shoveling handfuls of hot cheetos into his mouth. So sue him, it had been a long day. But nooo. Someone else had just walked in, probably someone with a very specific style that was out of season and they would argue for half an hour, no matter how many times he explained that tulips aren’t blooming right now, Vanessa!

Sure, usually his customers were great. Nervous first anniversaries, eccentric brides, all that romance stuff. He loved it. And they were usually all too willing to give him a budget and a color scheme and let him go wild, which was the best part about his job. He was good at it, too. His boss had seen his eye for style and almost immediately gave him solo shifts, which meant decently good pay and hours alone to belt out songs amongst the flowers and daydream to his heart’s content. It was a small enough business that the only mandatory part of his outfit was a green apron, so he could wear whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need a pesky nametag. Those had always weirded him out just a bit. So yeah, he loved his job, but right now, he knew himself too well. He had awful luck.

With a forced customer service grin, he poked out of the backroom and began his usual spiel of, “Thanks for coming to The Rainbow Bouquet, what can I get started…”

His words died in his throat at the mere sight of the man before him. Never had he been so equally attracted and frightened at the same time.

He was tall, probably just taller than him, but he held himself in a way that made Roman feel miniscule. Both arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, the left one a flurried mix of black and white and color, beautiful strips of pink and blue galaxies blending with grayscale skulls and clocks. The other had more order; shadows of a forest growing from around his wrist, shimmering mist curling up over his bicep and ending with a full moon stamped on his shoulder like a crest. A corner of something peaked up around the collar of his torn vest, and if Roman had to guess, there were most likely plenty more tattoos that were covered by his ripped black jeans and blue Nasa shirt. Not that his mind was going there at all, no siree.

Once Roman’s brain had screeched to a halt back in his body, he spoke again.

“What can I get started for you today?”

The man swallowed with difficulty, taking in the rows and rows of flowers surrounding him. He definitely didn’t look in his element.

“I need an arrangement for my mother. She’s in the hospital.”

Ah, the part of the job that Roman didn’t enjoy. Probably half the orders that came in were for sick people or funerals, and those were always a lot harder to arrange. It was always hard to find joy in creating for something so dismal.

“I’m sorry to hear. Did you have anything specific in mind? Does she have a favorite flower?”

“Daisies. She likes Daisies,” He murmured, still admiring the space around him. Roman couldn’t help but smile at the man’s expression. It was just a little awe inspired, a little bit of childish wonder, under that rough exterior. It was a gorgeous shop, that’s one of the reasons Roman had started working there.

“That’s good, it makes it a little easier for me to design something when I have that to go off of. Do you have a budget, or…”

He shook his head weakly, finally turning to look at Roman. “Price isn’t an issue. This is one of the last things I’m going to be able to give her.”

“Oh,” Roman whispered, slowly putting down the pen he’d been writing with, “I’m so sorry.”

“It can’t be changed. There’s no point in losing sleep over it.”

“Just because it’s going to happen doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

The man narrowed his eyes, giving Roman a once over before lifting his chin slightly. “I don’t need advice from a stranger.”

“Of course you don’t,” Roman quickly corrected, remembering he was still at work, “My apologies. When did you want to pick it up?”

“I’m visiting her tomorrow at noon. Could it be ready by then?”

“You bet. Can I have a name for the pick up?”

“Logan.” Roman’s pen skittered over his notepad, almost falling through his fingers.

Having a common name on your wrist was a curse in and of itself. And poor him, the hopeless romantic that he was, had met countless “Logan’s” in his day, and consequently fallen for most of them at first introduction, only to figure out quickly that they weren’t destined for a “Roman”. As inconspicuously as possible, he tried to glance down at Logan’s wrist, only finding a mass of swirling tattoos covering his skin. Dammit. There were some people born without soulmates, or had their soulmark fade to nothingness when their person passed away, and he tried not to think too terribly hard on which one Logan was. He tampered his rush of excitement as quickly as it had arisen and turned back to his notes, ignoring Logan’s raised eyebrow at his sudden stop.

Roman scribbled down the name and phone number as it was given, setting down the notepad with a customer service smile. The man spent no time dawdling, immediately starting towards the door, only to hesitate before walking out.

“Her favorite color is yellow.”

Roman nodded, the fake smile slowly morphing into an authentic one. “I can work with that.”

It was now a week after Logan had picked up the bouquet, a somewhat awkward interaction filled with small compliments towards the arrangement and Roman nearly dropping the flowers as their fingers touched while passing it over. As he was ringing up the total, he’d been able to uphold a brief conversation where Logan revealed he was a tattoo artist (no shock, considering he showed more inked skin than plain), and Roman showed off his rose tattoo on his upper arm. It would have been fine if the conversation ended there, but no, Logan had to reach up tentatively to brush his finger along the edge of the piece, commenting off handedly about how the color had started to fade.

“How long ago did you get this done?”

“Probably ten years, give or take.”

“You’re what, mid twenties? There’s no way you were legal ten years ago.”

“Who said I was?” It was said with a small wink that made Logan pull his hand away, an action that immediately dampened Roman’s mood.

“If you ever want it touched up, come by the shop. It’s just down the road.”

Roman had promised to consider, pulling the collar of his long sleeve shirt back up over the rose and bidding the man a good visit to his mother. Even now, a full week later, he couldn’t help his thoughts that were so centered around the tattoo artist. So maybe that was why Logan walked back into the shop the following Wednesday. I simped so hard I summoned him, Roman thought weakly as the gorgeous man strode straight up to the counter, leaning on it like he owned it.

“I have a question.”

“What’s your question?

“A client asked me yesterday to design a tattoo for her. A bouquet, seen from the top, and all she specified was it should feature hydrangeas, and she asked me to, quote, ‘go nuts’.”

“This isn’t sounding like a question so far.”

Logan sighed apprehensively, adjusting his glasses, “I was hoping you could give me some ideas on how to start. All the tips I found online contradicted each other in some way or another, and the arrangement you created for my mother was so well done…��

He trailed off, giving Roman a look that clearly said I need your help but don’t make me ask for it. Chuckling slightly, he leaned onto the counter as well, his face inches away from Logan’s. For the first time, he could see the small piercing on the man’s tongue as he sighed again. God, that’s hot.

“I’ll help you. On one condition.”

“Being?”

“Help me design my next tattoo.” In full honesty, he hadn’t even considered a second tattoo until that second.

“Deal.” There was no hesitation in his answer, and he took Roman’s offered hand, barely shaking it in the small space between them.

“Alright!” Roman pulled back, satisfied but disappointed as their hands separated, “Let’s talk flowers!”

And talk they did. For hours, in fact. It started with Logan’s tattoo dilemma, and Roman’s skillful eye and creative mind solved that problem in a flash, crudely drawing out a bouquet idea that fit all the criteria. The tattoo artist took it from there, using the notepad paper and Roman’s sketch, along with a quick round of the shop to see what the recommended flowers, fillers, and greens would all look like, and drew out a detailed piece that put Roman’s own art talent to shame. After explaining that his shift was done at the parlor and he had the rest of the afternoon free, Roman invited Logan to stay for a while longer, seeing as his day had dragged on customer-less so far, and he was bored. Plus, now was as good a time as any to pay back the favor. Two mugs of breakroom coffee later, the two were huddled around the counter, Roman describing his ideas and Logan sketching them like there was no tomorrow. Maybe half way through the brainstorm, the conversation switched to Logan’s mother (which he talked about hesitantly), then to Roman’s family, slowly changing to the absurdity of satin couch cushions, then to their favorite foods, and finally ending with a loud debate on whether pineapple deserved to be on pizza.

“It’s a fruit, Logan! Why the hell would you put fruit on a pizza?!”

“All I’m saying is that the sweet flavor of the pineapple balances out the tanginess of the marinara sauce, and adds more to the plain crust!”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Logan had to go soon after that, wanting to visit his mom before visiting hours ended. He left with a begrudging smile on his face and a promise to come back another day, drawing an ear to ear grin from Roman. He’s just a friend, he reprimanded himself sternly, all the while sliding the drawing of his next possible tattoo into his phone case with startling reverence. No use getting attached to some who wasn’t his soulmate.

Yet, he still couldn’t help but feel saddened as a week passed again, then two, then a month. His job had returned to it’s boring normalcy, with only the flowers and no cute boy to keep him company. Even when he sat at his little desk next to the counter, hands working effortlessly to string together order after order, he couldn’t help the occasional glance at the door. The hope that his prince charming would waltz back in, piercings and ripped clothing galore, never faded.

A month and a half later, the little chime above the door dinged, and Roman glanced up from his handful of Baby’s Breath (seriously people, there are other fillers). Immediately a huge smile pulled at his lips and he dropped the half finished bouquet onto his table.

“Logan! What took you so… long…” His expression morphed into one of worry as he took in the other’s appearance. Gone was the usual grunge attire he was so prone to wearing, replaced with a black hoodie and beaten up Vans. His eyes no longer held that dangerous glimmer that had intimidated Roman so much when they first met. He just looked… small. Logan had never looked small before.

“My mom died last month,” He whispered.

Roman was over the desk in a second, pulling the man into his arms before he could protest. It took Logan a second, a long, awkward, stiff second, before he let his arms wrap around his waist, allowing his forehead to rest on the florist’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d be okay when she died… it was inevitable. It was her time… so why does it still hurt so bad?” The desperate whisper shattered Roman’s heart.

“You’re allowed to feel sad, Logan.” He felt him merely shake his head in response, but he said nothing to push the topic further.

Logan didn’t cry as they stood there, though he clung to Roman almost desperately. If he had to guess, the poor man was probably already cried out. He looked exhausted, and his unusually slumped posture only weakened more when Roman tightened his arms ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. You were probably waiting.”

“Hey, no apologizing.”

“I just… didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“So what changed your mind?”

Logan shrugged, still not pulling away, “I couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. And I needed someone who wouldn’t laugh at me. If our few interactions were anything to go by, you were that person.”

Roman decided to ignore the blatant implication that Logan didn’t have anyone except a practical stranger to go to. They could talk about that later, if he decided to stay for a while. Roman really hoped he did.

When the tattoo artist finally pulled out of the hug, many minutes later, he pushed his sweater paws under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t cried, but he sure was close to it.

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I don’t even know your name, and I-”

“It’s okay, stop-” Roman reeled back slightly, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “Oh… sweet Zac Efron. I never told you my name! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“It felt too late to ask,” Logan smirked subtly despite himself, letting his hands fall back to his side.

“Oh, my sweet summer child.”

“I am none of those things.”

Roman sighed in soft exasperation, smiling at the barely perceivable glimmer in the other’s eyes. Ah, there it is. “My name’s Roman. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

He was instantly concerned with the way Logan’s face fell into one of total shock. Shit, what did he do wrong? The fear was quickly replaced with understanding, however, as the artist’s hand drifted to his right wrist.

“What are the chances that your wrist says my name on it?” Logan said it like he was scared to be hopeful, like a happy ending was just not imaginable for him. Roman couldn’t comprehend all the emotions he felt at one time; elation, shock, fear. He answered in a choked voice, smiling all the while.

“One hundred percent.”

The both upturned their arms in near harmony, Roman pulling his gardening glove down to reveal the name. He squinted at Logan’s wrist, finally noticing the small writing that just barely stood out underneath a grayscale (anatomically correct) heart. No wonder he missed it before, it almost blended in with the outline.

And then Logan did cry, but so did Roman, so it was a little more okay. He seemed more confused than anything as Roman pulled him back in, holding him even tighter than before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I’m so unused to… well, feeling. I’m not usually like this, I believe I’m just sleep deprived and worn out from-”

“You never, ever need to be guilty for feeling, you absolute punk stereotype.” Roman pressed a long kiss to the other’s temple, letting him unwind in his arms. “We’ll work on that together. I promise.”

A muffled affirmative hum was all he got in response. He pressed another kiss to the top of Logan’s head as his crying slowed, breathing out heavily into the man’s hair. Together. That’s all that mattered.

Peep this gorgeous art piece for this fic

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts soulmate au

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