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vxnuslogy · 2 months ago

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— 11:11 wishes.

pairing: kinich x gn!reader

premise: you weren't one to believe in manifestation that the media portrays, but the student council vice president has made you think otherwise.

— warnings: reader is me coded (re: delusional), just pure fluff, modern/school setting.

— author's note: heavily inspired by my own experiences and shit. art credits to @.n429g on twt. | 2.6k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @moineauz @mikashisus @https-sourlimes ; if you'd like to be tagged, please fill out the forms in my pinned!!

you spent an entire hour and a half staring at the pretty boy two seats in front of you. again.

with a frustrated groan and very aggressively typed out messages to mualani, you heave out a sigh and watch your bedside clock tick. it was 11 minutes to the wishing hour and you were very much considering wishing kinich would miraculously be your partner for your next nonfiction project. you’re not sure how long you spent daydreaming about the way the student council vice president spun the pen in his hand with ease or how he always seemed so serious and mysterious. by the time you look back at your clock it was barely 2 minutes before 11:11 pm hit and you scrambled to sit up.

“am i really about to try and manifest this guy?” you ask in disbelief as the magic numbers appear and you find yourself closing your eyes, lips muttering a soft wish, “please let him be my partner for this project.”

now, you weren’t much of a believer in manifestation per se, but when you woke up earlier than your alarm and with the birds chirping, you just knew something good was going to happen today.

as you make your way to school, you peek at the bulletin board mualani and the rest of the council is working on for foundation week. unsurprisingly there was a crowd of students around it, all trying to catch the eye of the president and her right hand man. mualani has always said you stare at people like a hawk because she spun around from what she was doing and waved at you, very exaggeratedly mind you. the boy you spent the entire night thinking about suddenly turned to the commotion and you were left to awkwardly wave hello before making your way to the classroom.

his stare was intense—you felt it all the way until you turned a corner—but you can’t deny the sudden heat that rose to your cheeks when you remembered the color of his eyes. vibrantly shiny and green; like seeping sunlight through the leaves of summer trees. it was a sight to behold, unforgettable dare you say. you thought about the way his bangs framed his face, the slight smudge of paint on his cheeks, and the way you caught a glimpse of how his hand slightly raised as if to wave hello until your english class started.

“and for our last pair: [name] and kinich.”

now, it’s no surprise that you don’t listen in class (you and mualani joke that if either of you ever listened to a class the world might end) but this? this piqued your attention so badly you nearly toppled over your own chair. the hushed giggles of your classmates rang in your ears as maroon rushed to your cheeks. your eyes unwittingly found their way to the pretty boy two seats in front of you who willingly caught your stare. he looked equally intrigued and amused and you can’t help the awkward smile you flash at him.

“holy shit, it worked.”

you feel mualani’s judging stare as you unabashedly kick your feet in glee as a wide smile spreads on your face.

“get well soon,” she jokingly says, stealing her shark plush from your arms as you pout at her. mualani rolls her eyes at you and smacks you with the plush which you retaliate by throwing a pillow at her. “give me a pass! this is a first for me.”

“and i hope it’ll be the last!” you glare at her as she dodges another pillow. laughing as she skips out of your room leaving you on your bed with your phone and the paragraph you still haven't sent.

‘why is green your favorite color?’

after your first—very awkward—conversation with kinich, he graciously gave you his number to stay in touch for this project. it was rather simple really: pair up, interview each other, write a biography. easy right? well, not when your partner is the definition of a wallflower at its peak. you’re not complaining though, in your last class with him (that was literally just 3 days ago), he had allowed you to talk his ear off and asked if it was alright if he just talked to you over text. still unsure and admittedly (though not verbally) shy to open up to a person he’s only known for less than a week.

so here you are now, exchanging texts with the guy you lowkey have a crush on, unsure of how to rephrase your answer to not make it so obvious that you like him. no way in hell you’ll just shoot a text that says, “oh, i like green because you always wear a green hoodie to school.” you’d die from embarrassment! but then again, kinich has mentioned in a previous question on how he preferred straightforward people.

with an aggressive thumb pressed to the back button, you type out a new message that wasn’t two paragraphs long that described the color of his eyes.

“the color reminds me of summertime. what about you? what’s your favorite color?”

he doesn’t even give you a chance to put your phone down for a full minute before it buzzes with a new notification. with mortifyingly fast reflexes, you shove your phone to your face, your own screen brightness flashing you as your heart hammers in your chest. fuck butterflies in your stomach, you had an entire zoo with the series of messages kinich had sent.

“blue. you were wearing a blue bracelet when we first met and i really liked it.”

“and”

“it suits you”

“is that a weird thing to say?”

what… the… fuck…?

mualani’s footsteps raced against your carpeted stairs as she barged into your room, half eaten cookie in her hands. her worry dissipated into a judging but amused smile as you pace around your room, hands covering your face—you were quite sure steam was rising out of your head with how warm your face felt.

“mualani, he remembered,” you say in disbelief as you fall to your ass, sitting on your bedroom floors. grabbing the nearest plush on your bed and screaming into it as mualani laughs. “this is not funny!”

“but it is!” she insists, wiping a fake tear from her eyes. “you’re such a goner.”

“but he remembered the color of my bracelet!” you throw your hands up in the sky, rushing to your feet and grabbing your best friend by her shoulders. “who the fuck remembers the color of someone’s bracelet?!”

mualani laughs again as she peels your grip from her shoulders. “kinich. and you better get used to it, that guy has an even more hawkish stare than you.”

yeah, mualani was right, you were a goner. how the hell are you going to sit in front of him in your next class without bursting into a million pieces?

staying up with mualani until half past midnight was not a good idea because here you two were, laughing in panic as you both rushed to get ready for school. this girl, you swear she’ll get you expelled one way or another (but you won’t have it any other way).

with all the previous treacherous pe classes in your system, you try your best to keep up with mualani’s athleticism under the chilly morning breeze. you might be laughing now but if you were to show up late in english even if it's only by a minute or two, you’ll get cooked on the spot by your teacher. even worse! kinich would have a front row seat for the entire fiasco because he always arrives 10 minutes before the actual class.

cursing your lowkey crush’s punctuality as you both speed past other almost late students, you bid mualani a quick goodbye and make a swift turn to your class. in your locked in state, you don’t notice the poor student in front of you. the world stilled for a moment as papers flew like miniature planes as you braced yourself to meet the cold school floors—but it never came.

“are you alright?”

you slowly look up, and there he is—kinich, his brows slightly furrowed, holding you steady with his gentle hands. “be careful,” he says, voice soft but still scolding. “you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“r-right, sorry,” you stammer, trying to ignore the shaking of your hands and thumping of your heart as you scramble to pick up the stray papers on the floor.

your hand paused when kinich’s fingers brushed against your own. kinich catches your gaze, and for a moment, you both still—green eyes filled with warmth, so full of something that pulled you in like a vortex. you can’t look away. heat rises to your checks when he clears his throat, standing up and handing the papers back to the student.

you follow his lead, brushing off imaginary dust from your uniform as you pull out your phone for a quick check on your appearance. you barely have a second to process what just happened when you hear kinich cough again.

“let’s go to class,” he says, covering his mouth with his fist and his eyes avoiding you but you catch the faintest of smiles tugging at his lips. “i’ll tell the teachers i asked you to help me with council work so he won’t mark you as late.”

“oh no, no!” you quickly decline, waving him off with a lopsided smile. “it’s alright, you don’t have to cover for me. i stayed up late last night so it’s still my fault for being late.” you chuckle nervously, but kinich just stands there, watching you closely.

you stiffen like a board when he takes a step towards you, then another, and another until he’s standing right in front of you. well shit, he smelled really nice; unexpectedly floral mixed with a salty ocean breeze. you feel blood rush to your ears when kinich plucks a stray leaf from your hair and did he just chuckle?

“all right then,” he says with a small, barely-there laugh, turning to walk to class. you don’t notice the way he slips his hand through the straps of your bag until he slings it over his shoulders. “let’s get to class. i still have a lot of questions to ask you.”

this boy’s smile truly will be the death of you.

“11:11, i wish to talk to him even after this project.”

you find yourself wishing as you and the rest of mualani’s friends leave the campus after an unexpected cancelation of classes. today marked as the last day of your little getting to know with kinich. you were already finished with his biography and have been purposely leaving out certain bits of information in your answers so you could spend some more time with the boy.

speaking of which, said boy was conversing with xilonen—a pretty third year who you had the pleasure of meeting because of him—regarding the foundation week. all of you agreed to go to a karaoke booth to pass time (more like mualani dragged you to join because of your glum mood), but before you could take another step to your destination, a warm hand catches your wrist and softly tugs you back.

“we’ll catch up,” kinich says as you try to bite back the smile threatening to spill from your face as he plays with the beads of your bracelet. “we need to finish up the biography project.”

mualani complains about why you still aren’t finished. if it weren’t for chasca and xilonen’s persuasion, the younger girl wouldn’t have allowed the two of you to split up. with an amused chuckle, you readjust the straps of your bag and look at kinich who caught your stare.

“shall we go?”

he nods and the walk to the park was spent in quiet appreciation of the sun. when you catch sight of the free swings at the heart of the park, your hand as if magnets came, tug at kinich’s sleeve and drag him to sit down there. bags carelessly thrown to the side as he scolded you on what if something broke. you only laugh in response and gleefully sit down.

“push me?” you ask with a childish smile as kinich shakes his head but still follows through with your request. he gently pushes you on the swings as you hum a small tune. “what questions do you have left?”

kinich stopped pushing you and instead sits down beside you. slowly swinging himself as he says, “nothing. i just wanted to be alone with you.”

the chains of the swings creak softly like your heart as butterflies were set free in your stomach once again. he turns to you—all blushing cheeks and biting back a smile—with a knowing and entertained look in his eyes.

“i hate you,” you randomly say as you swing yourself. trying to cool yourself with the morning air as kinich follows suit. “i’m gonna miss talking to you,” you continued, eyes strained over the horizon as children began to appear with their parents in tow.

“you say that as if this will be the last time we talk.”

you stop swinging and look at him, hands gripping at the chains more tightly than you wanted to admit. “is it not the last time?”

“no.” he quickly replies and you're stunned. “do you want us to stop talking?” he turns to you with a raised brow and you couldn’t hold your smile back anymore as you shake your head no.

“i never really thanked you for saving me from face-planting in front of so many people.” you bring up the memory in jest as you giggle. there was a faint chuckle that the breeze carried as kinich replied, “it was no problem.”

“can i tell you a secret?” you grin at him. you’re not quite sure what spurred you on to suddenly bring this up but truly, it was now or never. “go ahead.”

“i wished you’d be my partner for this project, and wouldn’t you know, it actually happened.”

“oh, i know.”

…

what?

kinich laughs—light like the morning sunlight seeping through summer leaves. you stare at him dumbfounded as red spread across your cheeks. “how the hell did you know?! i never mentioned it before have i?” your voice grew quieter as you trail off. hands coming to shield your flustered face from him.

“no, you didn’t. mualani did though.”

ah.

he pulls out his phone and flashes you a screenshot of his mualani’s conversation from a month ago. you feel your dignity and pride get sucked out of you as mualani even sent screenshots of you complaining about not knowing how to approach kinich outside of academics, hell, she even had a voice message of her undoubtedly laughing!

“i pulled a few strings for our english class so we’d get paired up,” he said with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

“why?” you ask.

kinich smiles, not the small tugs at the corners of his lips he graces you whenever you do something stupid, a full smile where his teeth caught the light of the sun. “i wanted to be your partner, too. since i granted you a wish it’s only fair you grant me one too.”

you try to ignore the erratic flips your heart was doing from his first statement, putting it on the backburner for now as you chuckle nervously. your palms started to sweat and your mind raced with what kinich could potentially want from you.

“be my partner for life, that’s my 11:11 wish today.”

god, this boy truly wants to kill you.

#—stellaronhvnters.#kinich x reader #kinich x you #kinich fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact kinich #( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ

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lindyr · 13 days ago

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How Elain feels about Lucien vs Azriel:

Lucien:

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him-

Azriel:

Azriel knelt before her.. gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.” Elain glanced between us, but did not tremble. Did not cringe.

Lucien:

It was the most uncomfortable thirty minutes I could recall. Lucien and Elain sat in stilted silence. Elain had picked up the teacup, and now sipped from it without so much as looking toward him.

Azriel:

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise lounge across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister within it.

Lucien:

She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left.

Azriel:

Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, "Can you truly fly?" He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, "Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind. " "That’s very beautiful," she said. "Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?" "It is sometimes," Azriel said.

Lucien:

And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Azriel:

“It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Lucien:

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” “You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face. “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me.” “He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

Azriel:

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.

Lucien:

My sister rose to her feet. “I should get refreshments.” Lucien rose as well. “No need to trouble yourself. I’m- ” But she was already out of the room.

Azriel:

"I should go," Elain said, but made no move to leave.

Lucien:

Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien.

Azriel:

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open.

Lucien:

Though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Azriel:

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” “It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?"

Elain's actions, words, and body language make it clear to me that Azriel is the one she has strong feelings for. Feelings that she simply can't hide.

#elriel #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #lucien vanserra #acotar

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nobodyfamousposts · 1 year ago

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Coffeenette

For the record, they blame Alya. All of them do. No question. They will never NOT blame Alya for this.

Even Nino, who is her boyfriend and supposed to support her. He’s agreed with her about almost everything. But not about this.

Even Rose, who is the sweetest girl in their class. She’ll apologize and be really nice about it, but she still blames Alya.

Heck, even Chloe did, which was a surprise. She was a bully sure, but as such, anyone would have thought this sort of thing would be beneath her. Though it could simply be that she just liked having any excuse to make fun of someone.

…Or so they thought until they saw Chloe scramble away to hide as soon as she saw it happen.

But none of them blamed Alya more for this situation than Marinette, who could only swear all unholy vengeance and glare daggers at her soon to be ex-best friend as she took her sole reason for living in this cold and terrible world and threw it in the garbage!

“Marinette, come on. It’s not that big of a deal!”

“It was innocent…”

“It was a cup of coffee!”

“The perfect cup of coffee. The coffee to end all coffees. Brewed to perfection and at just the right temperature. I could have died happily with that coffee. No other cup of coffee will ever compare. Ambrosia was in that cup and you threw it away!”

“Are you serious?!”

“Shh. Shh…I must mourn.”

“Get off the floor!”

“Mourn, I say!”

Oh sure, some had shrugged it off at the time. Alya had just rolled her eyes and dragged Marinette to class—coffeeless. Others had simply laughed a little at the dramatic display before moving on.

But those who knew better were panicking.

Some were already looking up therapists. Two were immediately calling their parents to ask about a school transfer. A few had given up on life and were writing up their wills.

It should be made clear: Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a kind girl. Sweet. Dedicated. Dependable. If you needed help, she was there. She was the one to look to for a solution to any problem. She was the first to put forth an effort and offer an olive branch, even if you hurt her. And of course the last thing she ever wanted to do was upset anyone. And if she did, she would be the first to apologize and try to make up for it.

…the problem was that this was all when Marinette was in a good space. And while her good days exceeded her bad days, that was not to say that there were not bad days. And when she had her bad days, they were…bad.

The thing that few knew about Marinette Dupain-Cheng was that there were…times, you could say, when she was not her normal friendly self. Times when she was…

…Grumpy.

Kind of mean.

Downright brutal, actually.

It only happened when she was either very angry or very stressed.

Which, unfortunately for everyone, has been increasing quite a bit since Hawk Moth made his grand entrance into the world of supervillainy.

Marinette had been stressed for a while and it showed. She’d been losing sleep. And they could tell she’s been more groggy given how frequently she’s been walking into walls and doors. They had thought this was cute at first. They had even laughed about it.

They hadn’t realized that this was actually only the first stage. Not until she started coming in with coffee—something she hadn’t done in years.

Marinette struggled when she was tired.

Thanks to Hawk Moth, she had lately been very tired.

And with her consistent lack of sleep, coffee had been her best friend. Or at least her best consumable friend. The sort of friend that brought her relief and made living bearable.

…until Alya took it away.

It turned out that Marinette’s parents had become…”concerned” about Marinette’s caffeine intake and had forbidden her from the beverage. Normally, they could only keep it away from her at home by either keeping her from the coffee pot or when necessary, switching to decaf. But Marinette had found ways around that by getting her bitter bitter life-saving paint stripper juice outside, usually on the way to school.

Or at least, she used to. But this was a new year and THIS time, Marinette had a new friend—and a BEST FRIEND at that in the form of Alya Cesaire, whom Tom and Sabine had chosen to enlist in their plot to protect their daughter from things that weren’t good for her.

Like coffee. Her precious life-preserving coffee.

And next to the Ladyblog and her secondary role as Rena Rouge, Alya had never jumped on anything faster.

Marinette’s morning coffee run? Done. A thing of the past as Alya would walk her to school and ensure they made no other stops along the way.

Marinette’s stash of coffee and energy drinks? Ransacked. Alya searched her locker, her desk, her bags. And being Marinette’s best friend, she knew ALL of her potential hiding spots.

Marinette’s emergency chocolate-covered espresso beans? Taken. Alya practically treated it like it was radioactive given the gloves and goggles she wore as she removed them. And in her defense, they very well may have been. Marinette was very tight-lipped over just where she had gotten them. She had tried to hide the fact that they WERE espresso beans, but Alya still wasn’t fooled.

Alya was on the hunt and there was NOTHING that could stop her. For her best friend’s “greater good”.

…as far as Marinette was concerned, the “greater good” could shove it.

She saved Paris on a daily basis! This was the LEAST it could give her in return!

Sadly, it appeared that Alya—and by extension Paris, cared not for Marinette’s sacrifice. Thus she was left to stew in her growing rage…stew like the precious brew she was being deprived of.

Up until that point it was clear that Marinette had been surviving on coffee and sheer spite. And now she only had one of those two things left.

But it would be fine! Really!

…so long as no one earned her ire.

Chloe had been one such unfortunate recipient of that ire some time ago in her younger days. Though Marinette had profusely apologized to her afterwards, Chloe never forgot and has held it against her ever since.

...well, after her several month sabbatical from school, at any rate.

So the fact that Chloe was suddenly trying to convince her father to let her take a vacation in the middle of the school year should have been a major red flag.

…or the way Marinette slammed her bag on her desk to get the class’s attention when they started getting off task and too loud in class.

……or the death glare she gave Kim the instant he tried to poke fun at her state with a literal poke to her cheek to try to wake her…and the injured finger he received for his trouble when she grabbed the offending object and bent it back.

…………or how most of the teachers were conveniently refraining from giving them any homework assignments they knew they should have been getting. Or not acknowledging Marinette’s grumpy behavior and sleeping in class. Or avoiding even looking in Marinette’s general direction.

The point was that it was evident that not all was right in the classroom and especially with their normally kind and happy Everyday Ladybug.

To their credit, the classmates had tried to bring Marinette coffee in order to help restore her to her usual state...or at least avoid her wrath.

But all their attempts were for naught, as Alya herself had become something of a bloodhound for caffeine. And having appointed herself as enforcer of the coffee ban, she would confiscate any form of the substance they tried to bring in and dispose of it in short order—much to the classmates’ horror and Marinette’s growing displeasure.

As far as the class could figure, it seemed that coffee was either simply useful in keeping Marinette awake and aware, or it was a comfort to her when she was feeling stressed.

Probably both.

And Alya, in all her misguided concern for the girl’s health, had taken it upon herself to remove the one thing keeping Marinette stable. Stable and happy and not inclined to traumatize anyone unfortunate enough to get in her way.

So yes, everyone in the class did blame her. They didn’t do anything about that resentment, of course, but they did still blame her.

Not that Alya seemed to care.

“Alya.” Nino knelt—literally knelt before her, his hands clasped as if in prayer. “Please. I’m begging you! Just let the girl have her coffee!”

She only rolled her eyes before throwing away yet another cup Marinette had managed to procure from the teacher’s lounge—somehow completely ignoring the daggers the other girl was glaring at them all with from the window of the classroom.

Alya was unmoved.

And seemingly oblivious to the scratch marks on the window left in the wake of Marinette’s pawing.

“It’s for her own good.” Alya insisted, much to the growing horror and frustration of those around her.

“What about our good?“

“You’ll be fine.“ She said dismissively.

“She made Kim cry!” Nino exclaimed, gripping his hat.

“You’re exaggerating.“

“She brought out the Vial. Do I need to tell you about the Vial?“

“The what now?“

“Marinette has a special Vial she carries during…these times.” Max explained as he helped the despondent Nino to his feet.

Alya blinked.

“Okay?”

“She uses that Vial to collect the tears of anyone who so much as annoys her while she’s in this state!”

“That’s a little weird, but—”

Nino cut her off.

“She uses those tears to flavor her coffee.”

Alya stared.

“What?”

“She flavors her coffee with tears, Alya!” He continued, gripping her shoulders. “Not cream! Not sugar! Not cinnamon or chocolate or pumpkin spice like normal people and Americans! TEARS! OUR TEARS! What does that tell you?!”

“That tells me you’re exaggerating.“ She replied, looking decidedly unimpressed. And thus cruelly ignored his whimpering as she tossed the rest of the coffee into the trash bin.

She shot them a look as she slammed the bin lid closed, as if daring them to challenge her.

Nino looked on the verge of a breakdown.

Max sighed and texted the others.

To everyone else, the slamming of that bin lid was akin to a signal…one that indicated the sealing of their fates.

Some cried. Some prayed.

Most chose to stay out of the way.

…that was likely all they could do.

Other than blame Alya, of course. Which they did.

As Marinette’s antics changed from funny “walking into walls isn’t she cute” to less funny “eviscerate your soul with words”.

As whispers from the rest of the school followed the classmates, offering them sympathy and prayers.

As the very atmosphere changed from a sense of melancholy to ever growing unease and outright paranoia. As if her presence itself brought with it something seemingly eldritch in nature.

And through it all, Alya ignored the warnings and insisted this was for the best.

To be fair, it was perhaps her friendship with Marinette that offered her some protection from the worst of it.

…others were not spared.

Timothy—everyone remember Timothy? Prominent student and good friend to the rest of the class. Top of his class. Fellow swimmer and athlete to Kim and Odine. Was one of the few people Chloe would listen to. Tried to help Nino throw the party during Bubbler and the only one to notice Sabrina hadn’t appeared in a while in Antibug. Remember? That Timothy. Had totally been there all along and was well liked by everyone. Possibly as much as Adrien.

…until he admonished Marinette for bumping into him and not looking where she was going.

And.

Marinette.

Snapped.

It was the moment Marinette finally had enough. Both of the lack of coffee and of holding back her frustration about the situation.

It was also the last time Timothy was seen at school. Or anywhere for that matter. Given how abrupt it was and how people actively avoid mentioning him again, some question if he had ever really existed…

Eh, probably not. It was likely just a rumor.

What wasn’t a rumor was how Chloe (after being denied being allowed to ditch school) presumed that a new year and being Queen Bee meant she was stronger than she had been before and thus strong enough to put the caffeine-deprived version of Marinette in her place. She would prove to Marinette, to herself, and to everyone that SHE was the head bitch in charge.

Marinette was abruptly woken out of a nice daydream that either involved Adrien or coffee or Adrien AND coffee to find herself being yelled at. And find herself face to face with Chloe.

Oh wait, Chloe was the one yelling at her.

She had a hard time making out what Chloe was saying, but the fact remained that it WAS Chloe. Which was never a pleasant place to begin any realization.

It would help if she had coffee.

Was there coffee?

Marinette looked at her depressingly empty hands.

No.

"Well?! Do you hear me?!" Chloe shouted.

Marinette looked up at the blonde and took a slow breath before opening her mouth to speak.

...

…thirty minutes later, Sabrina found Chloe catatonic under her desk and took her home early.

To be fair, she had brought it on herself. After all, she really should have learned her lesson from the last time. But still, it was hard to forget the scene as Sabrina gently guide her out of the building as Chloe mumbled to herself, her face pale, her mascara running, and her eyes wide and haunted.

She was out for the rest of the week.

Bustier was...no help. In her ever rose-tinted fashion, she attempted to speak with Marinette early on what had been a particularly bad morning.

“Marinette, I heard you’ve been having some trouble with your classmates.”

It took a minute for Marinette to realize Bustier was there, much less that she was trying to have a conversation.

“—argument with Chloe the other day. It seems like whatever you had said really hurt Chloe’s feelings.”

Marinette blinked, trying to comprehend what was being said to her.

“—was uncalled for. Chloe didn’t deserve that.”

Bustier. Something about Chloe? She hadn’t seen her in a while. She thought things had been quieter lately…

“—you know how Chloe is and that she needs help. Surely whatever she said couldn’t have been that bad, and—”

These were clearly words, but they weren’t making sense.

“—remember what I said before about the Marinette’s of the world? It’s important to show love to people, even if they aren’t nice. So they can learn from your good example and—”

Marinette.exe needed coffee to continue this conversation.

“I think the two of you can talk this out. You can apologize to Chloe and model the right behaviors.”

Was there coffee to continue?

“—and who knows? Maybe the two of you will even become the best of friends!”

No.

“—what do you think?”

Marinette frowned at Bustier and opened her mouth to speak.

...

...it would be the first and only time Bustier would make such an attempt to speak to coffee-deprived Marinette. Nobody knows exactly what happened, as the students had come in when class started only to find Bustier in the aftermath, sobbing over her desk and completely inconsolable.

No class was had that day.

#ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #coffeenette #why alya why #alas poor timothy #we...didn't really know you at all actually #but you will be missed #yes I'm actually writing this #pray for me #pray for everyone actually #the poor poor traumatized souls

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halfvalid · 1 year ago

Text

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore.

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two.

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you.

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.”

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship.

“The Going Merry?”

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours.

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!”

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.”

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below.

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky.

“You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away.

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself.

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon.

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.”

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.”

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.”

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.”

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.”

“Yeah, but I know swords.”

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.”

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.”

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?”

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.”

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.”

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.”

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area.

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?”

You snorted. “No.”

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?”

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.”

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.”

“Was that a question?”

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?��

Zoro actually smiled at that.

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?”

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.”

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was.

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh.

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck.

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength.

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack.

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.”

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you.

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.”

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.”

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him.

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted.

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.”

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect.

“He’s good, huh?”

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.”

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?”

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.”

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.”

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?”

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth.

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?”

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.”

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.”

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?”

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.”

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?”

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled.

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!”

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.”

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut.

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.”

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted.

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet.

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table.

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him.

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.”

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets.

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?”

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.”

“You don’t know why?”

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking.

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring.

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies.

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch.

Just your luck. It was Zoro.

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water.

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties.

Zoro was avoiding you.

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates.

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment.

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.”

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.”

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes.

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it.

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?”

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.”

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—”

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?”

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy.

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?”

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.”

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.”

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!”

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look.

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.”

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded.

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark.

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry.

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts.

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you.

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso.

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will.

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw.

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you.

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points.

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you.

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck.

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said.

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.”

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?”

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap.

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.”

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?”

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms.

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.”

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.”

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.”

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?”

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?”

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.”

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered.

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside.

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest.

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.”

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least.

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.”

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze.

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow.

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?”

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side.

“You know a lot.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn.

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned.

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?”

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.”

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?”

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.”

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.”

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright.

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again.

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch.

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh.

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.”

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them.

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.”

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.”

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat.

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?”

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.”

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.”

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.”

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection.

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut.

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.”

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else.

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest.

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

taglist: @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ellisaworld @yeonieesss @sarcastic-sourwolf @rouzuchan @dashcrashbash @blossomedfloweroflove @ fangeekkk @winuvs @katiemrty @asexualimmortal @fayetheenthusiast @freedom-kitty @ren-ni @je4nc4tb0y @dwcode @albedosfiance @13-09-01 @dimplewonie @cellgore @ shabzy1644 @applepie972 @mayo0ma @smoochesfromlevi @ csmbrainrot @intoanothermind @junieloonie @yourlocalgoose @swthrxrry @lovefooi @dailybrekker @taeriffic @xxemmarldxx @alastorswife63 @butterfliesinthenightsky @mukeovernetflix @wonuskie @mysingularitybts @sorasolarium @chaitea-69 @wishyouwere-sober @mchlist @bibi-bieber-winchester @prowkarma @loveyluv7 @hhighkey @jesssssmaybankk @threadofdestiny @hinata7346 @thevampiricprincess @wreckmyimage @prettyinsatiable @fairygirl18 @idcalol @bangtannie7 @carav4l @kookie-doughs @bluesiebirdie @endeaz @q8852p @addisonwilkins1 @louweasleymalfoy @alelovesmitski

#opla zoro #opla roronoa zoro #opla #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #reader insert #x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #opla fanfic #opla fanfiction #dracule mihawk #opla zoro x reader #kiki writes!

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iwriteisuckatittho · 5 months ago

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Clueless- JJ M.

JJ didn't get it.And you were starting to think he'd never get it. You'd let him sleep at your house for months without asking for anything in return. You'd cleaned and bandaged every cut and scrape of his since you were 10. He would climb your parents' polished fence almost every night. He'd pick up a few pebbles from your father's prayer garden, and chuck them at your window. You'd already be up, pretending to study but really waiting for him. A portable ladder sat by your window seat, ready. You'd crack the window fast and eager. Putting down the ladder for him. In your fantasies he was Flynn and you were Rapunzel letting down your hair, inviting him into a sacred space, breaking every rule your parents had set out for you. But everytime, you saw his crooked smile and his promising eyes, your dad's warnings were crammed to the back of your head and stomped out by those boots JJ never seemed to take off.He'd climb into your window and twist his lips to the side of his face. You'd frown at him and trace your fingers over whatever spot was bruised or bleeding this time. “I swear I didn't start it this time.” he'd lie.“Eat something.” You knew all too well how often he'd go the whole day eating only slim Jim's and beer. He'd dig into the little fridge beside your desk and roll his eyes at the bowls of fruit salad and mini water bottles. He'd eat two bowls of the fruit and have 3 waters while you poured hydrogen peroxide over his cuts.You'd cringe at his pained expression. “Sorry.” You whispered and then he'd place one of his free hands on your shoulder and say, “I am too. Why aren't there any grapes in here?”And you'd laugh together. And you'd listen to music as loud as you could without waking your baby brother. And he'd smile. And that weight of loneliness would dissipate. And you'd have a friend. Finally.Then it'd be your mom knocking on your door, telling you how you'd miss school if you weren't ready in 30 minutes. You'd be lying on your side feeling JJ's heavy absence. You'd be getting dressed. Tugging on a pair of jeans, and seeing one of your flashcards, covered in JJ's horrible handwriting. “Hanging with Kiara. See ya later.”

And you'd secretly wish for another fight with topper or even a beating from his father, just so you could see him again.He'd choose her over you everytime, Without fail. And here he was, not getting it. Again. He didn't get why you offered to drive him to kitty hawk. He didn't get that you couldn't care any less about your blind older cousin being stuck at wilderness camp. You'd always know how clueless she was. “I'm a pogue. I'm a pogue!” she'd scream at her parents. But she really, really wasn't. Kiara didn't know hunger. She didn't know what it was like to not have the safety of four walls at night, she didn't know sleeping on a friend's couch was her only option. She was dumb and she was selfish and someone. Just one person needed to give her a reality check.But you wouldn't. You would drive JJ where he wanted to be. You would follow him around the camp in your black leggings and black luluLemon jacket and your black converse. And you would roll your eyes as Kiara rose up from her spot on the top bunk and said “you're looking for me.”Unfortunately. You thought. Tears would prick your eyes as he said he loved her and tears would spill past your nose and into your mouth as they kissed, completely oblivious to you. And your stomach would churn as the girls began clapping for them.You'd run ahead of the two and away from the camp with them following behind. You'd be sobbing against a tree. And kie would ask if you were ok and you'd ignore her. And JJ would ask what was wrong. And you'd turn around and shove him. “It's you! You two are what's wrong with me! You have never not once included me in something you enjoy JJ. I've never been invited to surf with you guys or have a freaking beer! And we're cousins Kiara! Every injury you've ever had since we were 10 I've treated, I've been doing your homework for the past 5 years just so we could still have classes together and you make it your business not to show up!” You'd back away and wipe your tears with a sweatshirt Rafe let you borrow years ago. “You two don't even speak when we pass each other on the street.” “I-I” JJ stutters. You'd pull out your phone and text Rafe. Come get me?“I'll um, I'll leave the car. Y'know for the distraction? Have fun in South America.”A weight lifts itself off your shoulders as Rafe pulls up on his motorcycle, toting an extra helmet for you. He was here, again. Like every time before. Too late had the truth dawned on you. You didn't get it.What JJ was to you, you were to Rafe.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

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babywitchofthesouth-responds · 5 months ago

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The Ultimate Miraculous Ladybug Fic Rec List

Ft. 97 of the best Miraculous Ladybug fics (imo) >>>

A Miraculous Square Dance by ChatNoirLuvr

Marinette intends to finally confess her feelings to Adrien, but an Akuma forces it early— while she’s still Ladybug! As exciting as it is to become Adrien’s new celebrity girlfriend, the secrets required of a Ladrian romance make it too unsustainable. Until the heartbreak paves way for a right-old square dance (MariChat!) where they find each other again. At the exact right time.

Tell Me Why You Love Me by linnieluna

Now 22 and working full-time, Marinette and Adrien seem to be getting busier and busier, which means fewer opportunities to keep track of akumas and show up on time. With the idea of using a messaging app to communicate with each other without revealing their identities, their lives immediately grew to be easier... until it wasn't.

Can I Date You(r Character) by midnightstarlightwrites *

When Adrien's character falls in love with Marinette's, they decided to date in-game. What could go wrong?

[Note: this one seems discontinued but I loved it so much]

As Soon As I Belong by crazykotyara

Marinette likes Adrien. Adrien would prefer if she liked Chat Noir. That leads to an absolute mess of a relationship, which includes a weird game of Truth or Dare, identity shenanigans, and Adrien, figuring out some really important stuff.

Knock Knock by DorothyGale123

After an akuma targets Marinette, a certain cat jumps to her rescue! Unfortunately, he fails to knock before jumping into his classmate's room. Chaos ensues. What follows is an awkward apology, way too many coincidences, and some realizations on both sides that the person they used to think of as a friend might be more than meets the eye. Will these dorks finally realize what's been in front of them the entire time? Will they ever stop being so oblivious? And what happens when you throw a scheming Hawk Moth into the mix?

A dozen roses by IlioneThe3rd

When Marinette finds a pink rose on her desk, she suspects that her secret admirer is Chat Noir. After all, who else would leave a rose just inside a 5th floor window? But why would Chat Noir give roses to a girl he barely knows when he’s supposed to be in love with Ladybug?

As the dust settles by Pengirl91

After Ladybug lost everything and yet her partner stood by her, she realized what she had been trying to lie to herself about for months. She is undoubtedly in love with him. The only problem is that she's terrified of what that could lead to and there's a monumental task ahead of them before it might be safe to act on her feelings for him... more than she already has.

lovers who hesitate by momochai

Marinette is Adrien's Secret Santa and she's got this in the bag. Really!

Perfectly Platonic (Unless...) by frostedpuffs

After accidentally revealing their identities in less than ideal circumstances, Adrien and Marinette must navigate their newfound relationship as both partners and friends. Becoming best friends was a quick process, but when romantic feelings begin to bleed into what's supposed to be a platonic connection, their friendship starts to change in more ways than one. Surely it can't be that hard to hide their feelings from their best friend?

once more, with feeling by zimtlein

When an unfortunate incident causes both her and her sworn enemy to detransform in front of each other, Marinette knows she is screwed. Because even though Chat Noir turns out to be her former polite classmate, it doesn’t mean that he stops being an asshole to her. So it’s no wonder he starts toying with her like the manipulative bastard he is. The only solution? Take his Miraculous and be done with him forever. And never forget that he’s no more than her enemy. Never.

[Note: this one was FANTASTIC]

The Closest Thing to Love by jennagrins

When Gabriel tells Adrien it’s time for him to learn about the brand internationally, Adrien knows he can’t leave Paris - or Marinette. The two concoct a plan to allow Adrien to stay and finally achieve his independence from his father. They’ll just get married. The only problem is...they’re not actually dating. But that won’t cause any issues. After all, they’re just friends, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Unraveling by InkyCoffee

She felt the desire to prattle all but tear at her throat, and clamped her mouth and then her eyes shut tight, willing the babble back, waiting for the blow. A love confession gets rejected, leading to a reveal - and for a while there it feels like everything starts unraveling.

seven is my lucky number by MiaBrown

post-reveal pre-relationship roommates. but is it really pre-relationship if they are fake-dating?

Five Times The Love-Square Watched ‘Solitude’ (And One Time They Didn’t) by MiaBrown

According to Adrien, ‘Solitude’ was a very rare and special movie. Marinette wasn’t so sure about the first, but she was indeed certain about the second. This film was extraordinary, life-changingly so.

don't ask questions you don't wanna know by MiaBrown

Chat Noir’s plan of asking out his classmate, only so the girl could turn him down and offer to be ‘just friends’ instead was ridiculous. Too bad there wasn’t a sensible girl who would have rejected him. Ladybug was so sure of this, she dared to bet on it. And when the next day Adrien Agreste asked the same question from Marinette… Well, she wasn’t trying to prove herself wrong.

Ladybee by SailorChibi

Chloé didn't know what to do when Chat Noir and Marinette showed up on her doorstep. Marinette made Chat the guardian so she's forgotten everything; the Miracle Box is locked and no one knows the combination; and Chat is barely holding it together with the revelation that Marinette is both Ladybug and his soulmate. Time for a Bee to do what she does best: hold the hive together.

lonely girl (you are my world) by etherealme

Marinette is fine with her life. She’s fine with not knowing anything about Chat Noir, and she is completely okay with not doing anything about the growing feelings she has for him. But, when they’re sent on a road trip across continents, it gets harder and harder to avoid the lingering question: are Chat Noir’s feelings as unrequited as she’s led him to believe?

you give me thoughts of a prince and palace by Yilena

As the reclusive princess of her kingdom, Marinette's face isn't known to the public. Posing as a commoner, she runs away with her friend to another country for a holiday and accidentally seduces the prince. AU.

[Note: this one had me hooked on royalty AUs]

The Red Thread by Jheqia

When Marinette kisses Cat Noir during an akuma attack, it creates a connection between them that leads to some interesting... problems.

Soulmate Tropes by ggomo_springtime

An akuma makes soulmate tropes a reality.

Careful Stitches by Ashes555

Marinette still didn't know what happened, but whatever it was turned the moment that should have been her greatest victory into something that might haunt her for the rest of her life. Instead of helping her partner defeat Shadow Moth, she got a note. And then he was gone. Marinette thought that life would be perfect, but it never could be when Chat Noir was missing.

Revelations by Mindell

Dreaming of the day when he would finally discover Ladybug's identity had long been one of Adrien's favourite activities. Would she tell him her secret during a conversation? Would she transform in front of him? Would she reveal her identity once her mission was accomplished, when they would give their miraculous back? But never, never had he dreamed of a shy "I am Ladybug" confessed by one of his classmates, in the middle of their classroom and in front of all the other students.

L'Instant Présent by Yilena

A Marinette with no knowledge of being Ladybug manages to be useless fighting crime for her first time, and carelessly reveals her identity to her oblivious partner when they're alone. AU.

Sewing Sentiments by frostedpuffs

Fed up with her miserable job at a fabric store, Marinette decides it's finally time to quit and move on...until she's tasked with training a new employee whose golden hair and gorgeous green eyes have her feeling a certain way. Torn between leaving her job and staying for Adrien's sake, Marinette decides to stick by his side, enjoying her new co-worker's company far more than she had ever expected.But there's something about him she can't quite place—a certain sadness in his eyes that, despite only knowing him for a short time, has Marinette wondering about his past and what exactly he's running from.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious. Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

[Note: this author write some fantastic stuff and this is one of them]

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and they can only be together if they vow never to touch.

Pick-Up and Chase by SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans. A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Tents and Cuddly Cats by SKayLanphear

[Note: this one isn't showing up anymore for some reason]

Serendipitous Fate by SKayLanphear

Adrien is excited to reveal his true identity, while Marinette is terrified. But Master Fu says they can't afford to be distant any longer. Chat Noir and Ladybug are meant to work in tandem both in and out of uniform, their strength stemming from the bond created between them. Yet, teenagers are sometimes better at dancing blind than running with wide open eyes, even with the steps laid out before them. Steps in the path of an expanding world. Apart, they'll flounder. But together, they might just stand a chance.

Wish Upon a Star-crossed Love by Aepyceros

Wherein a series of encounters lead to gradual realizations and revelations.

Gabriel gets used to... (Adrien having a Girlfriend) by Mystic_Raven20

Gabriel Agreste… The man; the myth, the legend; the grumpy old man who wouldn’t know love if it kicked him hard and straight up the hiney. Gabriel had a number of issues in his life, but the worst one goes by the name Marinette Dupain-Cheng; his son's girlfriend and the younger Agreste’s self claimed ‘love of his life’. In Gabriel’s eyes Marinette has a mission, and that mission is to take everything the Agreste’s have worked hard for. One thing was for certain, he wasn’t going down without a fight; and if his ship did finally sink he was dragging Marinette down with him.

come sleep with me by treasuredgem

Where Ladybug and Chat Noir try taking as many naps as possible because Hawkmoth doesn't sleep either.

Between a Rock and A Hard Place by P_Artsypants

During a class field trip to a natural cavern, Marinette and Adrien get trapped in an elevator…trapped in a cave. Such close proximity means that secrets don’t stay secrets for long… Can the two escape their iron prison, much less their glass cage of emotions? Or will teenage hormones be their undoing?

Where There's Smoke There's... A Smoker by Talik_Sanis

Marinette is smoking! It's a filthy, dangerous habit that could do terrible things to her, leading to truancy and missed homework assignments, and- and who knows what other horrible fates (certainly not Adrien, as he's too sheltered to even guess) for the dear sweet girl too pure for this world! Adrien Agreste has to save his very good friend from her smoking addiction! Basically, Marinette lies about smoking to cover for her detransformation in an alley. Things go south from there. All the things.

Cobblestone Streets by girlsivebeen

Adrien Agreste just wants to go skateboarding in Paris. All he needs is a disguise right?Marinette Dupain-Cheng can likely spot her partner anywhere, whether he's in a banana suit on a scooter, or attempting to successfully skate over the cobblestone streets of Paris with a motorcycle helmet on his head.

See You See Me by SomberSecrets

Chat Noir had found his new favourite past time-- staring at the pictures of Adrien Agreste on Marinette’s wall… walls. There were a lot of them.

To Know by mildswearingat4am

Cat is a little more observant when he talks to a certain plucky classmate in Evillustrator and sees something he was never supposed to see. Friendship, puns, anxiety, romance, and an even more convoluted love square ensue.

basically, I wish that you loved me by sagansjagger

Adrien and Ladybug have made a mistake. They've been caught by Alya making out and now the rest of the world thinks they're dating, despite their objections on social media. Alya, thinking that Chat and Marinette are devastated by their crushes' apparent relationship, tries to set them up with each other. Marinette and Chat, being the savvy duo that they are, mutually decide that they'll fake date in order to get Alya off their collective backs. This, naturally, blows up in their faces...

Following A New Fel(ix)low In Class by DevoTea

Felix starts going to Francois-Dupont. Marinette is not about to let him back into their school without some explanation though. He is a very suspicious individual, maybe she should follow him around some more. You know, just to make sure that he's not up to making someone akumatised or something.

Felinette Soulmate AU by San_fics

Now it made sense why she behaved so protective of Adrien that day, given the fact that his soulmate had a crush on the model. For some reason Felix didn’t like this idea at all. Shouldn’t there be some rule, forbidding your soulmate to fall for a wrong guy, even if he looked just like you?..

Inky Blue by soarbytheocean

Félix had always gone on a pre-determined path, precise and detailed. A person who had always maintained a stolidly calm surface, the waters of his ocean were never turbulent. So, when he collided with the serene forests of Marinette, the havoc that his ocean went through was hard to describe.

Rhythms and Rainstorms by SultannaMajor

They didn't need to speak to communicate. And that's a fact that she always found amazing. They understood each other in a way that no one else can. They danced around her kitchen like they were born to do it. MariCha

Birthday Surprises by brbcommittingason

Adrien has been seeking solace with Marinette, using her as a way to escape from his daily life. Or at least, that's how it started. As the months continued onwards, he didn't just go there for a source of comfort, but also just to be her friend. He was head over heels, he knew that, and maybe that's why it was so easy for Plagg to convince him to wear a hoodie (a generic one that could have been passed off as a regular black one) that she made him. Chat Noir, him. And Plagg might just be the reason his life is a million times better.

My Sweetest Princess by LadyKae

When the unthinkable happens, we're often left picking up the pieces and trying to move on. No one has learned that lesson harder than Marinette, and Adrien wants to be there with her for every step of the way. When his feelings for Marinette grow stronger, Adrien finds himself holding back for her sake. Join our favorite heroes as they navigate the paths of healing and finding love at the end of a long road.

moonlight epiphany by ohlittlebarchie

Sometimes, you are blinded by sunlight so bright that you’re left stumbling in the dark. And then you miss that the best thing you could ever have was right in front of you all along - come nightfall, you forget that the moon reflects the light of the sun. Maybe Adrien Agreste is the sun. And maybe Chat Noir, suddenly, unexpectedly, crept into her heart like a sliver of moonlight.

Breaking Free (Isn't free) by RachelLyseBrook

Papillon has discovered Chat Noir's secret identity. By sheer luck, Adrien manages to escape the mansion and akumatization, Plagg providing him an out while snatching up something precious to Gabriel Agreste. Adrien crashes onto a familiar balcony and begs Marinette for help, almost revealing his identity in the process. Distraught over her partner's predicament, Marinette swears that Chat won't be alone in this. That she will move heaven and earth to keep him safe. But neither of them realize just how difficult Papillon was going to make this for them.

When Bunnyx Brings a Baby by Druwho

Marinette thought she was up to any challenge. She was Ladybug after all! But when Bunnyx arrives with a baby in her arms asking her to babysit, Marinette quickly learns that Akuma battles are easy compared to taking care of a baby. A baby that seems to know her and for some strange reason... Adrien?

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir by Kasienda

After Ladybug admits to Chat Noir that she told someone her identity, she insists that he do the same. He wants it to be her. She insists it has to be anyone else. He suggests they use the snake. She finds this to be a reasonable compromise. After many heartfelt five minute conversations that Ladybug doesn't remember, she decides he should keep the snake. That way he can always confide in her if he needs to. He also realizes it means he can talk to anyone… for five minutes... on repeat.

You, Me & A Little Bit of the Future by joonapeach

Marinette expects some disaster on her first outing alone with Adrien. She just doesn't expect that disaster to be her future self passing off a baby for her to take care of with Adrien.

Infinite Us by Leda (Represent)

Ladybug has five minutes left with Chat Noir, and she isn't ready to give them up.

A Major Test of Strength by nemali

There is only one thing in Paris hated as much as the akumas: Ladybug herself. In an effort to help the Savior of Paris, Adrien winds up on the wrong end of an akuma attack — only to find himself stuck reliving the same day. With enough time, anyone can be a hero, and as he continues dying over and over, he is forced to confront the idea that these loops may be just as much of a blessing as they are a curse.

Breaking Free by UpTooLateArt

Marinette has failed as the Guardian. Shadow Moth stole the miraculous, and now it's down to her and Cat Noir to recover them, before it's too late. Just one problem - Cat Noir's father is their sworn enemy...and he's decided it's high time for some father-son bonding. As Adrien is drawn into his father's world, secrets will finally surface - and our beloved heroes will be faced with the biggest decision of their lives.

A Hundred Thursdays by Midnight Musume (Peas)

Marinette is stuck repeating the same day over and over. Her friends (and especially Chat Noir) help her cope.

Spots and Shades by DearLittleRobin

While trying to prevent a bad future, Marinette walks straight into another one. Adrien can't handle any more secrets, but realizes knowing things comes with a price. Time travel is as weird as everyone thought it would be

Revealed in Time by WhitleyMiranda

Marinette is sent 8 years in the future by an akuma. While there she discovers a grown up Chat Noir and more about her future than she could have ever imagined.

Maintaining a Professional Distance by buggachat

Ladybug and Chat Noir receive a hotel room from the city, which they most certainly will not use. After all, that wouldn't be very professional, would it?

Chasing the C/h/atwalk. by Inkkerfuffle

Paris. The city of lights, love and fashion. Follow the progress of Marinette Dupain Cheng as she enters the extremely competitive world of Reality television for a chance to be the winner of Project Runway: France.

Radio Silence by Eevee

When an inexplicable change between Marinette and Adrien brings the two closer than ever, Alya is left on the outside of a secret too confounding to be about cheesemaking or puppy love.

do you think i have forgotten about you by augustrose77

Memory Loss. Told in alternating time lines, one leading up to and one dealing with the aftermath of Marinette relinquishing the Miracle Box and the guardianship. Marinette struggles with her life after losing her memory, though there is a persistent voice that calls to her that always seems just out of reach in her memory.

Chat Noir's White French Man Hit List for Feminist Purposes by peachcitt

adrien agreste who is also chat noir absolutely chugs his respect women juice

Not a Monster at All by book_sandwich

Adrien Agreste overhears a conversation he shouldn't, and a revelation sends him falling onto the terrace of the only person he can trust: his good friend (?) Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

How Marinette Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Ball by TheChatatonicOne

Hidden from the crowds thronging around the busy fairy portal in Paris's town square, a fae gate sits at the edge of the forest, locked, rusty, and full of ancient magic. Marinette thinks that this abandoned gate must not work anymore... but one day, a fairy disguised as a black cat steps through it.

Dearly Despised, (I love you) by snacc_noir

Marinette could go on about why she hated Adrien Agreste—from his unfunny pranks to his ineffable attractiveness—ever since he had the audacity that day with the umbrella. And yet, here she was fake-dating him while in love with a superhero.

Disrespectfully Yours, Marinette Dupain-Cheng by fettuccine (LFA)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is top of the class. Straight A's, perfect attendance, and editor-in-chief of her university's premiere fashion magazine. Or... she would be top of the class, if it weren't for her academic rival Adrien Agreste. They've been competing for everything since their freshman year of college. If Marinette gets a 99, he gets a 100. If she gets an internship, he gets a better one. Now in their senior year of college, they're ready to fight it out one more time to win student journalist of the year — and the scholarship that comes with it. But when a semester-long project forces them to team up, everything changes. If they want to remain in consideration for the award, they'll have to figure out how to work together. Because in the cutthroat world of academia — and journalism — failure is not an option.

Lightning and Thunder by The_Rabbit42

While out for an evening run, Chat Noir gets caught in a thunderstorm and struck by lightning. He's fine! He ends up recovering/hanging out with Marinette. What ensues is a night full of conversation and commiseration, arguing and affection.

daydream by a_miiraculer

In which Adrien finds out Ladybug is Marinette, and beats the 'this is fine' dog at his own game.

the wonderful part of the mess that we made by heresie_irisee

They knew. They knew, and there would be no magical reset button for the memories they'd made today. She'd have to see him at school every day, and she'd see the Chat in him, as surely as he'd see the Ladybug in her.

Bakery "Enemies" [COMIC] by buggachat

After the defeat of Gabriel Agreste and the disappearance of the mysterious peacock miraculous user, Marinette is left to try her best as Guardian and pick up the pieces. With the kwamis left in hibernation, no leads on the missing peacock miraculous, and no way to contact her beloved partner, she's left to her wit's end on where to proceed. That is, until the prime suspect of the peacock wielder coincidentally takes up an apprenticeship at her parents' bakery. Adrien Agreste, son of Hawkmoth, has seemingly planted his roots in her home while Marinette was away for an apprenticeship. This could either be a disaster in the making, or the perfect opportunity to retrieve the missing miraculous... either way, it's war. At least, it would be, if the gosh darn villain weren't so sweet!

metamorphosis by peachcitt

Three years after hawkmoth's defeat, marinette is still trying to figure out her version of normal. there's also sleepovers.

[Note: brought me to tears. unrelated but Landing Feet First by Bayside is my unofficial anthem for this fic]

A Royal Thief by meeble

Marinette couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a bad day. Running late and accidentally dropping her father’s freshly baked bread was one thing, but telling off the prince of the kingdom and subsequently being kidnapped by said prince was something else entirely.

Love Doth Ran Smooth by Dpanda_17

When Nino had told Adrien he’d find love, Adrien didn’t expect to find his true love the next day. And for her to greet him the pleasant way she did.

Trolling Alya by SailorChibi

It was just one of those things that didn't have a simple explanation. As surely as the sun rose in the east, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was going to marry Adrien Agreste. That was a fact that Ladybug knew in her heart, and she knew that Chat knew it too. The unspoken acknowledgement surrounded the two of them like a warm, cozy blanket. There was really no need to rush to dating because that next step was always going to be there; they had all the time in the world. And in the meantime, torturing Alya was really fun.

electrify me, i’m dying to burn by Anonymous

Adrien and Marinette are best friends and partners—they can talk about anything. Even the hypothetical situation in which they’re dating.

cause our hearts are locked forever by SailorChibi

Ladybug and Chat Noir are not okay. Years of fighting akumas have taken a serious toll. The only comfort they have is in each other, and, when the pain of separation becomes too much, Marinette figures out a way to circumvent her promise to not tell Chat who she is.

1 step forward, 3 steps back. by agnes_writes

In which Adrien switches targets to Marinette, and everything goes wrong before it goes right.

Seven Seconds by alvares715

Adrien finds a lost video on his phone.

œuf ouch owie by miraculousunflower (ominousunflower)

Chat Noir enlists Rena Rouge's help to create an Aspik illusion. Absolutely nothing goes wrong.

Stray Chat by Pozolegirl

Adrien wants to be friends with Marinette but...it's hard to be friends with Marinette Dupain-Cheng and not have both parties become a little tongue tied around each other. So Chat Noir attempts to make friends with Marinette with the aid of his mask instead. Following problems at home however, Chat Noir suddenly becomes Marinette's roommate! Now they're both keeping secrets...

Always Welcome Here by gay_english_nerd

Adrien is forced on an extremely repressive diet and it makes heroing much harder. Marinette has lots of food and a very kind heart. What will happen when the meetups become regular? Maybe some... Marichat?

heartstrings by taylortot

one of marinette’s rare unlucky days turns into something treacherous. thanks to a certain cat, the real danger passes, but there are other things to be more afraid of. her heart, for example, might be one of them.

The New Guardian Is... Multimouse? by The_Rabbit42

During the events of Miracle Queen, Master Fu passes on the role of guardian to a surprising successor... Multimouse! Marinette is frustrated, Alya is confused, and Chat Noir is oddly pleased. How will this affect Marinette's friendships and partnership on both sides of her identity? How will this affect Adrien's view of the girls in his life? And how long will they keep it together?

keep me in your thoughts by LilaacStars

Love is messy enough by itself, but it's worse when you don't know if you love your classmate, your superhero partner or the boy that has been talking and dreaming inside your mind since the moment you were born.

Sommeil by Bronte

She'd noticed the bags beneath his eyes even with the mask over his skin and had asked occasionally how he was feeling and it was always the same response. ‘I'm fine,’ he'd say, ‘I just didn't sleep much,’ he'd say, ‘I'm just such a party animal,’ he’d say. She'd always let it slide in the past because she's his partner and friend, not his mother, but it’s kind of getting to the point where something has to be done. He yawns too often to be sleeping properly. He smiles too much to be happy.

Worthy Opponent by Soap_Lady

Felix Graham de Vanily is back! Not to cause trouble, at least not if no one crosses him. After discovering the last script his father ever wrote, he decides to honor his father (and make his directorial debut) by producing the movie. It has everything he likes; adventure, well-rounded teenaged characters, complex villains and witty dialog. The only problem is that it's set in Paris and there's only so much CGI can do. So he, his mother, and his group of friends who call themselves the Quantic Kids head to Paris to cast the rest of the characters. Marinette Dupain-Cheng has just finished her first year of lycee and though Lila is still around, her influence over Marinette's friends has waned, partly because they're on different academic tracks and have drifted a bit. She's not worried about that, she's decided to spend her summer as an intern in Graham Film's Wardrobe Department. It'll be valuable experience and with luck, she'll never even see Felix. Too bad she makes a wrong turn on her first day.

Passionfruit by SailorChibi

Marinette and Adrien are soulmates, and have known that since before they got their miraculous. They can’t not know who the other is. The solution? Keep on hiding the fact that they’re soulmates from even Tikki and Plagg, of course!

when you're near by buggachat

When Ladybug and Chat Noir were together, dancing across rooftops and kissing under the moonlit sky, Ladybug loved her boyfriend. But when the masks fell and all that was left was Marinette, she hated her boyfriend. She hated the lonesome afternoons, the third wheeling, the way his name wasn't in her contacts... She knows their identities are secret for a reason, and she tells herself she'd do anything to protect that— but when Marinette hears Chat Noir's voice coming from the boy sitting behind her in a coffee shop, she can't help but wonder if it's really worth not having him in her life.

Don't Let Me Let You Go by SailorChibi

When Marinette's parents find out and forbid her from continuing as Ladybug, Plagg comes up with what he considers to be the obvious answer.

Fireflies by sevendeadlyseas

When Ladybug and Chat Noir face their deadliest akuma, they both lose more than ever could have expected, and nearly fall apart trying to keep it together. Hawkmoth's identity is revealed and everyone's personal lives go to shit.

Slowly but Surely by San_fics

There was something Freudian in this, but Felix had a weak spot for women like his mother — outwardly soft and gentle, but strong and hard on the inside. And it was exactly the impression Ladybug left him with. Felix was smart enough to put two and two together. Maybe he still needed some proves, that would confirm his suspicions for 100%. Like the proves he needed to make sure Gabriel was Shadow Moth. But Felix used to trust his intuition and logic, so at this moment he was almost sure: the Marinette-girl was Ladybug.

a cat, confronted with the unknown, will respond not with fear, but with curiosity by LordKaladin

Chat Noir finally meets the mysterious Guardian his new teammates all talk about.

48 Hours To Make You Love Me by Mystic_Raven20

When two heroes miss the minibus for their winter get away with the gang they have no other choice but to make their way to the resort by themselves. After avoiding their feelings for years, a freak snow storm makes them reconsider more than just whether to carry on driving. Luckily, they find a quaint little bed and breakfast where suddenly they’re thrown into a situation where their feelings can no longer be held back; but, is it too late? The interference of an elderly couple after an eavesdropping accident helps both Adrien and Marinette come to terms with their feelings and their actions. Through movies, hot chocolates and snuggling to keep warm, Marinette wonders if it’s possible to make Adrien love her again, and more so can she do it by the time they need to leave their little sanctuary?

The Ladybugs and The Bees by BullySquadess

AKA the early-fandom Ladynoir puberty fic that spiraled waaaaay out of proportion.

Remember That Time When... by mostlovedgirl

Twenty-two-year-old Marinette Agreste was looking forward to the anniversary trip she would be taking with her husband Adrien that weekend. Those plans are derailed when she wakes up in her old bedroom... and she’s seventeen again.

Build You Up by CoffeeBanana

After the events of Risk and Strike Back, showing up to school and acting like nothing had changed feels wrong. Adrien doesn't want to be there, listening to the fears and criticisms of his classmates. Worrying about Ladybug. Trying not to let his doubts consume him. But it turns out there's someone else who might want to be there even less than him. And maybe the answer to his problems has been sitting behind him in class all along.

Can't Fool Me by CoffeeBanana

Marinette and Adrien both have the same plan: to impersonate their superhero partner for April Fools' Day. But when they both get a little too into character, well...what could possibly go wrong?

You and Me by 11JJ11

Marinette tries to find ways to let Adrien knows how much she cares, even if their relationship must stay a secret.

Forget me not (because I will) by Bluestpaw

Being a guardian is hard. Forgetting to be one is even harder.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fic recs #miraculous ladybug fic rec #fic rec #fic recs #fanfiction #fanfic recommendation #adrien agreste #chat noir #miraculous ladybug fanfic

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lonelym00n · 2 years ago

Note

can u write jealous/possessive amber freeman accidentally lashing out on the reader?

Green-Eyed Monster

Amber Freeman x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Amber Freeman doesn't like sharing what's hers. You get caught up in the aftermath.

A/N: Thank you for the request! <3

Amber Freeman knew she was an extremely jealous person and she also knew that her intense streaks of possessiveness had a tendency to get her into trouble. It only took her three trips to the principal’s office in elementary school to realize that she was alone in the hot-blooded and pulse-pounding rage she felt whenever another kid touched one of her toys.

She knew all of this, and yet, she couldn’t quell the green-eyed monster that roared to life inside of her at the sight of you talking to another girl. Amber wouldn’t usually be this upset at someone else for simply talking to you, but this girl in particular was a repeat offender of being extra flirty and touchy with you, both acts that Amber read as an attempt to steal you away from her.

Like a hawk watching its prey, she waited for the girl to make a wrong move, to place her hands upon what Amber considered hers. As she stood up against the wall silently seething, her temper rose progressively higher and higher and higher, until Amber was so enraged that she couldn’t remember ever being so mad in her life. Her chest heaved up and down erratically and her hands shook with the primal need to stomp over to the girl and rip the vocal cords right out of her throat so that she could never talk to you again.

She continuously examined the reaction taking place between you and the girl. The two of you were sitting on a couch trading laughter back and forth. Amber’s lip curled up into a snarl at the way the girl’s grin stretched even further across her face any time she successfully made you laugh. The girl twirled her hair around a singular finger that Amber found herself wanting to snap in two. Her violent thoughts increased the more she observed the girl in a manner that was way too hyper aware for her own good.

Amber shifted her eyes to you next, and if she was any less mad than she currently was, the sight of you surely would’ve made her soften. You looked so pretty in the outfit that she had helped you pick out for tonight's party and everything about you was accentuated so perfectly. She trailed her eyes almost lasciviously across your form, wanting nothing more than to pin you down and prove to you that she was so much better than anyone else.

A sudden movement from the brainless girl in front of you halted Amber’s unabashed leering immediately. Like a helpless witness forced to watch the most sinful crime be committed, she glared viciously as the girl placed a hand upon your upper thigh, unknowingly sentencing herself to certain death.

At the horrific sight, Amber felt like she’d been swept up into a tornado of pure blazing fury that had no intent of relenting until every person but you and her had been added to the list of casualties that resulted from this unfortunate accident.

The heinous action of the hand beginning to massage your thigh was the final catalyst in unleashing the uncivilized savagery that had encompassed Amber Freeman. ***

You had been innocently sitting on the couch and taking a break from dancing when Sarah, your lab partner from biology, sank down next to you. She was a nice smart girl who, quite frankly, was the reason you were even passing bio in the first place. You liked her well enough and found that you enjoyed her company, but it was no secret to you that your girlfriend absolutely hated her. So, while you did like talking to her, you were filled with apprehension at the thought of how Amber would react if she saw how closely Sarah was sitting to you right now.

You shivered, but participated in the conversation that Sarah had struck up nonetheless. She was recounting all the times your bio teacher had glared at the two of you for whispering to each other while he lectured, something that never failed to make you laugh.

The chat shifted away from innocent recounts of biology class to something that had a bit of a heavier air to it. Sarah complimented your outfit and you shifted uncomfortably, making a point to notably mention that your girlfriend had been the one to all but dress you up into it. She didn’t flinch at the mention of Amber and you got increasingly more hesitant to continue the conversation with the direction that you sensed it was headed towards.

Sarah, seemingly emboldened by the alcohol that she had consumed, deposited her hand way too far up on your thigh to be considered friendly. You were sure that you looked visibly uncomfortable but she wasn’t deterred in the least bit. Her hand began to firmly massage your thigh and before you could even pull away and tell her off, a firm body flew over the side of the couch and slammed into Sarah, cleanly tackling her straight to the floor.

A small crowd excitedly grouped around the two forms now wrestling on the ground. Your line of sight was cleanly blocked off and though you frantically tried to identify who had knocked Sarah away from you, all you were able to catch was a flash of familiar raven hair. Amber. Oh shit.

After a significant amount of time and a small power struggle, Amber’s friend Chad and one of his football buddies had finally managed to rip the two girls away from each other. Amber’s limbs flailed around wildly in an attempt to break free as Sarah, whose nose had already turned an abnormal purple color, was led into a different room.

You stood in shock at the frantic manner at which Amber tossed herself around in Chad’s arms at the hopes of her escape. She stilled suddenly as your eyes met hers, a chill shooting straight up your spine at the feral look that filled her eyes.

With a renewed vigor, she successfully wiggled herself out of Chad’s tight grasp and, like a man on a mission, made a beeline straight for you. She clasped her hand tightly around your wrist and forcibly dragged you to her room, too caught up in her rage to hear you begging for her to loosen her grip.

You, on the other hand, were feebly trying to hold back tears at how firmly Amber was clutching onto your wrist. You could feel the bruise already beginning to form and counted your lucky stars that the bone hadn’t given in and snapped all together.

In a flurry of erratic movements from Amber, you were thrown into her room and promptly slammed into the wall. If she had applied just a tiny bit more pressure, the wall would’ve cracked with the force at which you had smacked into it.

Though tears were now streaming down your face, Amber still hadn’t recovered from her near psychotic state. Her lips smashed against yours in a fit of pure possession, and though you returned the kiss, you nearly whimpered at the feeling of her teeth gnashing into yours. It wasn’t until she bit down onto your lip with the intent to draw blood that you audibly cried out and shoved her away from you with all your strength.

Amber’s eyes fluttered in surprise as she immediately snapped out of her rage at the pitiful sound that had escaped your mouth. Guilt swiftly took over at how broken you looked in front of her.

Your wrist was throbbing and your back ached from where it had cruelly bumped into the wall. Your vision was cloudy with the still-falling tears and your senses were overwhelmed with the coppery taste of blood that coated the tip of your tongue. You sunk down the wall and curled into yourself, surrounded by feelings of pain and in a complete daze due to what had just occurred.

Tears leaked uselessly out of Amber’s own eyes as her roughness finally caught up to her. She clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs that flew out. She was so upset with herself for doing something she had never thought she’d be capable of doing, something she promised herself she would never do. She had hurt you.

She knelt down in front of your crumpled form, too scared to console you through touch in fear of you flinching away.

“Baby,” she practically whined out the term of endearment, “I am so sorry. I wasn’t in control, I- I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m so sorry I hurt you, fuck!”

Your tears slowed to sniffles at her sincere apology. Amber had been nothing but gentle with you throughout your relationship up until now, so you were sure she was telling the truth. Even though it probably would’ve been more rational and wise to sprint away from her at full speed, no one else mattered to you as much as Amber did. She’d been there for you through so much that you couldn’t imagine seeking comfort in anyone else.

You peeked up at her so sadly and Amber felt a piece of her heart break away at the sight. “Amber, my whole body hurts.”

She cried even harder and spewed out a second round of apologies and pleas for your forgiveness. She reached out to touch you but stopped short, “Please, I’m so sorry. Can I touch you?”

You nodded cautiously and her arms pulled you into a loose embrace that was filled with so much care. She trailed her hands all over your body in complete sorrow. She rubbed your thumping back tenderly and leaned down to softly kiss each of your injuries, whispering apologies as she went.

Exhaustion filled your whole body as she began to tell you how much she loved you and swore she would never hurt you again. Feeling safe and loved in her presence again, you allowed her to scoop you into her arms and settle you comfortably into her bed. She tucked the comforter around you like a cacoon and you sighed into its warmth.

“Is there anything else I can get you, baby?”

You looked into her eyes and tiredly spoke up, “Just you. Will you come hold me?”

Amber’s heart leapt into her throat, so relieved that you asked her to join you in bed. She situated herself next to you and carefully wrapped her arms around you, smiling to herself when you fell asleep almost instantly.

Before she succumbed to the heaviness that weighed her eyelids down, she felt one more thought drift across her mind. Once enough time passed for her to not look suspicious, she’d be the last person your lab partner would ever see alive.

Taglist: @alexkolax

#amber freeman x you #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #scream fanfic #lonelym00n fic

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goddessofmischief · 1 year ago

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QUESTION...? - YOUNG SHANKS X READER

A/N: this is part of this series, which requests are open for! These fics are all one-shots, so they can be read separately.

If he was being honest, Shanks had thought about that kiss many times. The first kiss, his and yours.

It had never since been repeated. It had never since ever been mentioned, so repeating was certainly off the table. He had many kisses since, with many others, but none the same, and none quite as real.

Through it all, he had remained your closest friend. He, you, and Buggy had remained on Roger's crew, contented to stay on and learn for the time being. But tides had been changing as of late, Shanks knew. Roger had warned him of it himself.

He wondered where you might end up, if things fell apart, if their little family were to be separated. It was impossible to imagine you alone, but he was sure you were capable of it. You had never really needed him or Buggy.

...You certainly didn't need Buggy, at least.

Some nights, when he was being really honest, he imagined sailing away with you. Just you. Sure, he'd find a crew someday, but he wanted a couple years to see what life was like without one.

But that dream had died today, as today was the day he was introduced to your new boyfriend, Dracule Mihawk.

Shanks had a cursory knowledge of Mihawk that was far more extensive than he cared to admit. While the boys were only one year apart in age, Mihawk's extensive accomplishments far outranked Shanks'. Mihawk was already one of the world's greatest swordsmen.

How could he compete with that?

To be fair, Shanks was no slouch with a sword. It was hardly an insecurity of his. He was certainly one of the best, but he wasn't one of the greatest. And this shouldn't have mattered so much, anyway: It's not like you were in love with Dracule Mihawk entirely based on his sword skills.

No, you loved him for a thousand other reasons, all of which became dreadfully apparent to Shanks the moment Mihawk set foot on their ship.

He was polite, almost to a fault. He was cutting when it came off as clever. He had an utterly inescapable stare that made Shanks understand the meaning of the nickname 'Hawk-Eyes.' He was not a man, he was a force of nature, and Shanks felt terribly small beside him.

"So... what's your job?" Buggy asked. The three of them were seated in the dining room, waiting for dinner to begin.

"Gun for hire," Mihawk said calmly. "But only for the best."

"And... what's your intentions with Y/N?"

Mihawk stared him down. Shanks felt very grateful that Buggy had asked first.

"To marry her, of course."

Shanks almost choked on his drink.

Marriage? Really? That's what this was? It was too soon, it wasn't fair. He hadn't had time to do anything, he hadn't had time to even consider the full depth of his feelings for you. Mihawk was going to take you away, and he would never see you again.

"Marriage?" Shanks asked, trying to assume a jesting tone. "Isn't that a bit... sudden?"

"Well, yes," said Mihawk. "But I'm sure there's no one better for me, and I would hate to lose her."

"Ah... I understand what you mean." He understood it all too well.

You entered the dining room, and Mihawk rose to greet you. Shanks stood up, too, whacking Buggy on the shoulder to get him to stand.

You looked beautiful... of course... and completely in love. He didn't know someone else's joy could cause him so much suffering.

Mihawk handed you a drink - the rim was covered in dried flowers, he'd forgotten you liked them so much - and the liquid was a violet color.

"You remembered," you whispered to Mihawk with affection, and he merely smiled. Coward. If you'd spoken like that to him he would have had the ring out already.

The four of you turned to face the door again, as a sound like thunder echoed from the outside-

But Shanks knew it was only his adopted father's footsteps.

"Mihawk, is it?" said Gol. D. Roger appraisingly, looking the boy up and down.

"Yes, sir, it is."

"What do you do to survive, Mihawk?"

"Whatever I like."

Shanks wasn't quite sure how Roger felt about this answer - please hate it - until Roger began laughing uproariously.

Damn it.

Was this how mutiny felt? It seemed like it was one, sitting at that table, watching all those happy people conspire over futures he wouldn't be part of. He felt like a ghost, like he'd already died, like everything was too little, too late. He didn't blame you - how could he? you had done nothing wrong - but still, his heart broke a little every time he saw you reach for Mihawk's hand.

"It was a nice dinner," you later said to Shanks, standing at the edge of the ship, while Mihawk and Roger sat stoically in silence inside. "Thanks for being there."

You held a cigarette, and he watched as you exhaled smoke across the water.

"Give it," he said, half-jokingly, and he took a puff as well. You stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," you responded, holding your hand out and taking the cigarette back. But it wasn't nothing. The truth of it was that him standing there, tall as ever, with his dumb little necklace and dumb loose, white shirt... it made you remember how you'd felt for him during that kiss, years ago, all those feelings you'd tried to bury since.

Mihawk made sense. He was honorable, undeniably handsome, and clever. And it wasn't that Shanks wasn't these things - it was that Shanks had expectations set for him you couldn't possibly hope to live up to, and couldn't imagine following after.

He would be King of the Pirates. He would find the One Piece. You never doubted any of it. Everything Roger declared would someday become truth. This much was certain.

Could you handle that? It felt too much to bear, too big a weight to carry. Your love for Shanks - that's what it was, it was love - came second to Roger's aspirations for him and things the world needed him to do. He was a great man, he would do great things. And you had no place in any of it.

"You're lost in thought, it seems," Shanks prompted. You smile.

"Just thinking about Mihawk," you responded.

"You know, he... he told us he wants to marry you."

Your cheeks flushed red.

"I know," you spoke casually, even though you hadn't known. "He wants us to travel together, before he settles somewhere."

"But not now, right?"

"Maybe now."

"It can't be now!" Shanks said. "With everything going on? The World Government at our backs and Roger's health-"

"What do you know about that?"

"More than you know."

"I know quite a bit," you responded. "I'm the one who diagnosed him."

"Oh," said Shanks, trying not to let on how worried he was. "How long has he got?"

"A year. Maybe less." You puffed on the cigarette again. "He's said he wants to see us all happy, before he goes."

"That's not what this is about, is it? Please tell me that's not what this is about."

That was what this was about.

"You can't marry Mihawk just to make Roger happy! That's not what he wants!"

"How do you know what he wants?"

"He wants you to have adventures! He wants you to be one of the greatest pirates ever! He wants us..." Shanks became very quiet. "He wants us to stick together."

You held your breath. What you were about to say would disrupt all your lives: yours, Shanks, Buggy's.

"The Roger Pirates are disbanding next week, Shanks," you said. "I'm the only one who knows. Me and Rayleigh, and Roger. That's it."

Shanks stepped back, almost unable to comprehend what you'd just said.

"Oh," he said, unexpectedly somber. "And what happens then?"

"Then we go our separate ways," you said. "And Roger is going to turn himself in."

"To the World Government?"

"It's the only way. Or so he's said. I believe him."

Shanks sank down over the side of the railing, gripping the sides to keep himself from falling off. You watched him with concern.

"Can I ask you a question?" he spoke, softly.

You shrugged.

"Shoot."

He raised himself up far enough to make eye contact with you.

"Do you ever think about it?"

"What?"

"Us."

"...Oh," you said. "Us."

Behind you, Shanks paled, already waving off your answer.

"...It was just a question."

"I think of you all the time," you said, trying to avoid the full implications of such a question. "You're one of my best friends."

Shanks stared you down, leaning against the edge of the ship.

"That is not what I mean," said Shanks. "I think that you know."

You did know.

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and placed your hands on his shoulders. He looked at you, unblinkingly.

"I can't," you enunciated, staring at his shoes before meeting his gaze. "I can't let there be an us."

"But there could be."

You needed to end this now.

Still clutching his shoulders, you bent your head past his face, lips brushing against his ear.

You knew you held his heart in your hands. You knew you were about to crush it.

"I need a man," you spoke carefully, "And you are still just a boy."

taglist: @sordidmusings@foggyturtleknightangel@twinklesnake@toertchen@96jnie@lunanight1021

#it was rare i was there #shanks x reader #shanks #shanks x you #mihawk x reader #iwriwt

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mysoncookie · 6 months ago

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BNHA Dabi-Centric fic recs

Artificial Parenthood, Affectionate Brotherhood by cereal_whore

Teen & Up, Gen, No Archive Warnings

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 208,780

Has an On Going Series Called "Dabi says fuck the human species: artificial natural selection addition"

Summary: 22-year-old dabi switches place with ten-year-old touya todoroki in their timeline Bakugou, a single child with the social skills of an apathetic gamer, runs into a cellular mass of anxiety that vibrates the same murderous rage of a chihuahua. Said kid is as problematic as Bakugou himself, is a ginger, does not fear the laws of this land, and doesn't even seem to be from this land- or more accurately, time. Between Bakugou's homicidal urges, Todoroki Shouto's lack of filter, and God's middle finger, lies the Pandora's Box of the Todoroki's household secrets, in the form of a child named Touya Todoroki, who hates fish and has never heard of Minecraft. Todoroki Shouto just wants joint custody over his own older brother who's now inexplicably ten-years-old. So clearly, the only effective solution would be to force Bakugou to adopt him and all his other siblings. Meanwhile, Dabi, still in a world that never wanted him, learns that maybe an old dog can't learn new tricks (a truth he realises, when he finds himself reunited with a nine-year-old Shigaraki, who might not be past saving, the way he will be a decade later).

Lay Me on a Pyre (Sacrifice me for your sins) by RadioSilencer

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 29,126

Summary: “Ah, and I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple questions we have to ask since you’re awake now. Is that all right?” Wondering why his input was needed for that, Touya nodded. Anything they wanted. Whatever he could do to be less of an embarrassment. “Okay then, tell me if you need a moment whenever,” the woman started, “your name.” “Todoroki.” Even if he wished it wasn’t (and everyone else probably did too). “Todoroki Touya.” (A bystander loses control, and Todoroki Touya opens his eyes to a brighter world than he left behind.)

By Any Other Name by SatelliteBlue

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 258,617

Has an On Going series called "Will you accept this rose?"

Summary: Through some freak accident of the universe, Dabi has been invited to compete on The Bachelorette. Have they actually seen his face? Surprisingly yes, and they still want him. For this season they apparently need a ‘bad boy’ to both balance out the hero contestant (why in hell is Hawks involved?) and to trash talk the show in interviews to appeal to audiences who don’t like the scripting. Getting sent on a vacation away from his annoying bandmates to complain and eat as much free food as he wants? Sold.

The Difference Between an Heir and a Son by ofHeartmateAndSoulbeats

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warning Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 11,774

Summary: ...because if Enji had ever loved any of his children, it would have been Touya

Brother by Dreamy_Cel_100

Teen & Up, M/M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 79,561

Summary: Todoroki Touya has never known comfort. He just didn’t realize he wasn’t the only one. Or When Touya runs away, he decides to take his kid brother. And instead of joining villainy he attempts to create the home he never had.

Sins of the Father by kanekki

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 32,411

Has a Complete Series called "the hellish todoroki family"

Summary: Shouto’s lower lip wobbles as he cries. “M-Momma hurt me and Father sent her away. I m-miss you Touya, please come home. It’s scary without you.”

“Alright,” Dabi says soothingly while he glares at the heroes, “We’re going to my place then. Your nii-san’s going to protect you now, okay?”

Shouto is accidentally rewound by Eri’s quirk in the middle of a villain attack, reverting him to a small child with no memories of his future. Dabi takes the opportunity to bring Shouto with him to the League of Villains headquarters to remove him from Endeavor’s clutches.

little brother, we are all grieving by jurassicqueer (kukurosaki)

Mature, Gen, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 29,561

Summary: When a teenager is dragged into a police station by someone with a self-proclaimed de-aging quirk, it seems too improbable that one of the most notorious villains in Japan could actually be reverted to a scrawny sixteen year old.

But then the blood tests come back, and the quirk labs hand in their results, and it seems that Dabi really is a teenager again- and claiming to be the dead Todoroki Touya, of all things.

OR: Touya never expected to wake up a wanted fugitive, but with his luck, he's hardly surprised.

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as per requested from my previous post I updated my fic recs on dabi and ofc I added the bachelorette au that y'all been talking about tnx to @attackontreason for recommending it ksksks

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hausofanya · 25 days ago

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“i think we’ve found our first guest…”

cléo beckons the camera to follow her as she makes her way towards the first artist that catches her eye, tapping on her shoulder with a soft smile. “i thought i recognized you… say hi to the camera!”

the idol turns towards the camera with a smile of her own as she waves briefly. cléo adds on cheekily before pointing the mic towards her, “and who do i have the pleasure of speaking to tonight?”

“hi! i’m honey.b, but most people know me as honey of blackpink!” honey offers yet another charming smile, easily capturing the hearts of all the viewers watching.

“every blink and honeyboo at home must be going ballistic right now… you’re the first person i get to interview.” the two share an amused look before she continues. “and speaking of going ballistic.. i have to know what you’re wearing. you look good.”

“you know i had to go all out, cléo! my dress is from valentino who gracefully sent me this beautiful rose dress!” the camera moves from cléo to fully show off honey’s gorgeous dress as the idol continues to speak. “perks of being their brand ambassador, i guess!”

“you ‘guess’?” honey merely offers a sly shrug as cléo squints at her teasingly. “hm… i’ll let that slide this time.”

the camera shifting back to put both of them in frame, cléo continues on. “this might be just because i’m nosy, but what are three things you absolutely cannot live without?”

“hmmm… this one is hard, there are so many things i love.” cléo nods in agreement. “i would probably say my fans since i can’t exist without being the center of attention, snacks cause it’s the only way i’m gonna get through tonight, and—leaving the best to last, money. you know they do say money can't buy happiness, but my heart has to disagree.”

“diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but money is also definitely a big contender. solid answers, mhm. next, let’s hear about the most insane thing to happen to you this year. it’s been a hectic one, hasn’t it?” honey laughs as cléo beckons the camera closer as if being let in on a secret. “i’m serious! inquiring minds are wondering!”

“well, i did have dispatch come for me earlier this year claiming i was dating a man during women's history month.” cléo’s lips part in dismay as the shorter shakes her head. “of all the months they could have posted it, they really chose to do me dirty. it was quite embarrassing but i did gain some more eyes on me because of it, so i cannot completely complain.”

honey then lets out a sigh, “it’s just the paparazzi that follow me everywhere like a hawk. but it’s not something i am not used to being in blackpink.”

cléo mumbles something about degenerate people something something and honey lets out another laugh, a hand flying up to her mouth. the noirette merely sends the camera a serene smile and trudges on as if she hadn’t said a thing.

“kudos to you, truly. you deserve a vacation. but before i let you go, i’ve got just a few more questions—just like this one: how do you feel about any of the nominees? the public is dying to know.”

“i don’t wanna yuck anyones yum but there were some artists i definitely was sad to not see. i definitely think they deserved some loving, too.. 2024 has been a hard year for us all.”

cléo’s expression turns sympathetic, turning to address the camera. “a sweetheart, truly. what about the weirdest thing a fan has ever done to or for you to get your attention? fans can be so cute… until they’re not.”

honey’s expression brightens, which immediately has cléo intrigued. “what a story do i have for you, cléo! for like a few months after my hit song espresso came out, i would wake up everyday—and there would my go-to-order that i have never shared publicly on my doorstep.”

cléo balks, her brows raised in disbelief. “they found your address?”

“—and me being silly, i thought it was something cute my boyfriend was doing. but in the end it turns out i was drinking potentially poisoned coffee for a while.” honey turns to the camera as cléo just stares. “just a little friendly reminder to plug in our braincells unlike i did!”

the recanted experience seems to really stop cléo in her tracks, blinking slowly before she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind—“twins!” she then lets out a mortified laugh as honey’s own laugh comes out choked, fighting off one of her own as the host squares her shoulders.

“i guess i’m paying for our therapy bills. moving on! what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever googled? even on incognito.”

“maybe not so weird but kind of funny.. after my album, love honey, came out, i was looking it up on google to see what critics were thinking! but i guess my team didn’t do their research when naming the album cause the first thing that popped up was a very adult business if you get what i mean.”

cléo has to fully walk out of view to process the news as honey laughs again, helplessly shrugging at the camera as cléo slowly appears back into view. “maybe… i shouldn’t have asked that. oh my god… okay, next question! what’s your dream role? any role!”

“i am gonna say it. i think it is about time we bring back the early 2000s rom-coms.” a staff member can be heard adamantly agreeing before quickly covering their mouth, making the girls laugh.

“i basically lived off how to lose a guy in 10 days when i was a kid! so my dream role would definitely be like an it-girl character that everyone falls for in a rom-com, not very different my actual life though.”

“and we would all tune in, i can tell you that.” cléo points at the camera as if to say you too. “last question. anyone.. special in your life?”

“well like, legally—” cléo raises a brow already, “—my company won’t let me comment on my love life, but there were these dating rumours that i was dating a seventeen member. i think that company confirmed it, but still my lips are locked.”

“well, as long as it’s not, like. kim mingyu, i think you’ll be fine.” cléo’s grin at the camera is as menacing as it can get as laughter sounds behind her. “i’m serious! i’ve seen many a deranged tweet. i’d be scared for my life. but thank you for indulging me! you’re a saint.”

cléo smiles sweetly as honey steps away from the camera with yet another wave, waving goodbye herself as she wishes her a good rest of her night. then to the camera, she tacks on a—

“on to the next!”

you can find honey at @pinkshaus ! thanks so much for joining the event !

#fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #fictional kpop community #fictional idol addition #fictional kpop oc #fictional kpop idol #fictional oc community

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deartouya · 2 years ago

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TIME OF YEAR — HAWKS

summary: the week following valentine's day, you start getting a gift a day. they're always sitting on your desk when you get in, never attached to any note, and always something that you'd like. then a certain pro-hero shows up at your door brandishing a bouquet.

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wordcount: 1.4k

content: reader works in miruko's agency, fluff, stocked full of (very american) valentine's fluff and cliches, gift giving as a weird confession, best friend bakugou bc i can't help myself, mentions of food/eating.

happy valentine's day lovies !!! i barely finished this in time but ;-; it's done !! and i had to write something for keigo bc i love him dearly ;-; i hope you enjoy my self indulgence even if it's not my best work !

Working for Miruko's agency has been surprisingly mundane for a top hero agency. Spending your day filing reports and attempting to lessen the load of paperwork for her and the dozens of sidekicks she worked with. You'd grown fond of the routine, comfortable with your daily cafe runs and lunches spent working at your desk. It was nice, normal.

The past week has been weird, though.

It started with a rose. Soft and creamy maroon petals left in the center of your desk without a note or any hint of who had left it. You thought it'd been a mistake, someone mistaking your office for someone else's, but no one in the entire office building recognized or claimed it. So you found a dusty flower vase under your sink and kept it on the corner of your desk.

Next were blueberry muffins. You recognized the little white box from your favorite bakery the moment you saw it, the one nestled in a corner of the city which is almost always empty. Buttery and still warm when you finally willed yourself to open it. You couldn't help the warmth which filled your chest at the smell of them and you ate two of them for breakfast before starting your paperwork.

The rest of the week was filled with more gifts, all practical or catered perfectly to your own tastes; a pair of cashmere gloves a muted gray, a coffee from your favorite cafe just the way you ordered it, a shiny broach in the shape of two doves, a travel coffee mug not too much after your own finally worn out. Nothing that hinted at whoever's been leaving them for you.

"Come on, Katsuki," you lament, folding yourself pathetically over your desk, "you're always at the office--you have to have seen them come to my office! And you're the only one who knows I go to that bakery every morning, you have to know!" He snorts, barely looking up from his own stack of reports to see the considerably large box of heart-shaped chocolates. The rich, fancy kind that if you ever had a craving for you would've had to save half your paychecks.

His eyes seem to get stuck on the ribbon holding it shut, on the sliver of something soft and red poking out. You pluck it out, expecting a sticky note or card--anything but a feather the size of your index finger.

"Is this supposed to be a hint?" Katsuki only stares blankly at you, something akin to amusement warming the red of his eyes as your annoyance mounts, "do they have a pet bird? I don't think I know anyone with a parrot--except for that one guy from tech but his is blue."

Katsuki rolls his eyes, dropping his pen and shoving his chair away from his desk, “and why would he leave a hint? If he wanted you to know who he was he wouldla left a fuckin’ note on one of of ‘em.”

“I don’t know! I’m tired of not knowing,” you collapse back into your chair to stare forlornly at the ceiling, “no one in the building will admit to leaving them and we both know that they’re awful liars.” You’d tracked down nearly everyone who worked on your floor to ask about the gifts, even cornering an extremely nervous Midoriya in the elevator on your way home. None of them admitted to it. And none of them paid nearly enough attention to know where you bought your muffins or coffees from.

“You’re overthinking.”

You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as Katsuki returned to his paperwork. “I just don’t know who’s doing it, no one’s seemed nervous around me and I haven’t gone on a date in months.”

“Might make you less stressed,” Katsuki snips, a flash of canines when you chuck your now emptied coffee cup at his head—which he blocks easily with a laugh.

“I’m serious, Katsuki. I’ve never had someone all that interested in me—let alone this interested. I just want to figure out who it is.”

He softens just a little, sighing and dropping the empty cup in the bin beside him. You know you’re being childish, pestering him all week over something as trivial as a potential secret admirer when you both have stacks of paperwork and endless reports.

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” That look’s back, something passing slowly over his face—like he’s considering his words carefully, hiding what he knows, “Valentine's day’s tomorrow—maybe he’ll show up then.”

You don’t notice anything weird until you get to your office. Oblivious with the expectant stares of your co-workers, the raptness in which they watch you hurry to your office, the way they all look at eachother. Until you’re confronted with an incredibly familiar and out of place set of eyes, “Hawks!”

He starts at the sound of your voice despite facing the door, fingers tightening around a bouquet of budding peonies and wings ruffled and restless behind him. He looks out of place in your office—large and imposing, standing awkwardly in front of your desk and feathers twitching behind him.

Pictures could never do Hawks justice. He’s always prettier, brighter—the warmth of his hair and the flush of freckles across his nose—in person. He’s larger than life, all wide smiles and crimson wings, and no amount of photographers can capture all of him as he is. Breathtaking. But now, he looks nearly skittish.

Hawks smiles at you then—nervous and disarmingly ill-practiced for someone whose job is half made up of practiced smiles—and brings the bouquet just a little closer to his chest. “I saw these while I was on patrol… it’s that time of year, isn’t it?” His voice is quiet, something soft and tender that makes you feel warm all over.

Everything hits you very suddenly—the feather, the knowing way Katsuki had behaved when questioned, every pricey gift that had been left. Hawks visited the agency all the time, visited you in your office and had taken you for coffee at the very cafe your gift came from. He’d also put the final nail in your travel mug’s coffin, knocking it off the edge of your desk the last time he’d visited you with a teasing feather. Of course it’d been him.

“You left the gifts. You’re my secret admirer,” you say dumbly, sounding quiet and childish even to yourself.

But Hawks flushes, chin tucking into the plushness of his collar and failing to hide his wide and boyish grin, “I did—I am.” His hand—noticeably bare and warm—cups your own, transferring the bouquet of soft pinks and reds to you. “And these made me think of you when I saw them in the shop—you said peonies were your favorites.”

You flounder under the weight of his grin, the sweetness of flowers, the heady smell of his cologne, and the crispness of wind which always surrounds him. You’ve never been this close to him, always had a buffer in the form of mutual friend or coworker to soften the interaction. It’s overwhelming to be this close knowing he likes you. Knowing he pays such attention to you.

A swell of emotions overtakes you, grin so wide it aches and his own seems to mirror it. Hawks is warm, a slow gentle heat which seeps into you and melts against your skin from where his hands are skating up your arms. It’s dizzying and you find yourself leaning into him, overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him, to be even closer, to curl your hands into the softness of his collar and pull him into you.

But you don’t.

His wings twitch again behind him again, restless ruffling as he lifts a hand to rub at the nape of his neck. You track the movement with a smile—it’s oddly endearing to see him acting so human, so unlike everything you’re used to seeing of him. “Do you want to get dinner after patrol?” Golden eyes flick over your face, as if looking for any hesitance—discomfort. He doesn’t find any. “There’s this really good yakitori place down the street.”

“Sounds like a date, Kei.” His smile’s immediate, blindingly bright and so wide the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

“A date,” he echoes giddily, face flushed and smile half-concealed behind his hand.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #✶ writes #✶ writes.bnha #✶ writes.hawks

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dragonagecompanions · 1 year ago

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DAI romances react to Inquisitor’s "death" in "here lies the abyss". Like, he/she supposedly left them behind, to not to endanger them. So, the siege begins, they get inside Adamant, but the inquisitor is nowhere to be found. They run to the bridge where he/she was supposed to be and see it collapsed. One of agents says that and Inquisitor, along with the Warden and Hawke, fell into a cliff. What would they do while the siege of the fortress continues? And how would they react to the return? tnx

Cassandra: She does not want to believe it, at first. It has taken so long for her to open her heart to this man, and somehow over these long months the last Seeker has convinced herself that he is untouchable. Haven, the Conclave, the Anchor-- nothing can stop him for long. It was the same mistake she made with Anthony, and the same terrible grief threatens not only her soul but in battle her safety as well. There is enough distraction at least that the fear and the grief do not have long to hold onto her before he returns.

But later, when the screams of battle have ended and he is safe in her arms again, she will let the fear pull unwelcome tears-- and be soothed that he is still there to comfort her.

Solas: It is a judgement blow to the world, that it is the Gray Wardens and their folly that have stolen his Vhenan from him. She was a touchstone in a world so shattered from its proper place-- and her abscence destroys any chance of mercy from the Dread Wolf. He remains at the battle only because he must - and oh it tears at him- disinter her from the rocks to reclaim the power of the Anchor and that is a process best left to the Inquisition. The anger that wells up in him is vented at those who still oppose the Herald's forces, and there is no mercy from the soft spoken apostate until news reaches them that their fearless leader yet lives.

To hold her again, even for the few moments he can allow them, is a paradise. Even if he someday must betray her, even unto the ending of all she has known, it will at least be with a proper farewell and apology.

It is not enough, and yet as he holds her close at the end of the battle, it is enough for the momoent.

Blackwall: It staggers him. To lose her at all is devastating, but for her to fall while trying to help the Wardens is...

Is like standing in the rain and knowing the Warden who saw good in a disgraced captain wasn't coming back from the Deep Roads. The guilt and the shame are like a knife, but knowing that his lies might well have driven her on burn like poison. There is no antidote for his agony, and he can only turn himself to the battle; he can save at least those who were truly brave enough to take the oath and fight the corruption in their ranks.

When she comes back to him, whole and hale and as beautiful as ever, it breaks something in him. When they return to Skyhold he will tell her everything, and there will be no more lies between them.

Dorian: This was always a chance. That was a given going in, an acceptable risk to this whole arrangement, and while it hurts of course at least there is the comfort that the Herald fell...the Inquisitor died doing his...

Maker, he can't even lie to himself. It's devastating, and the moment the Tevinter mage hears the world seems to jolt on his axis. Of course the man he was beginning to love could not survive; there is no destiny kind enough to give Dorian Pavus a chance at the kind of love that last the ages. And so he will give it a story to shake the heavens instead. Those who fight alongside the Inquisition's necromancer will never forget how their foes rose in legions to attack former allies, nor the panic that sprung up in the ranks of their enemies. There are none brave enough to comment on the tears that stream down the mage's face for the battle either, and few willing to stare at him long enough to notice it besides.

But when it is all settled and the Herald is of course miraculously fine again, Dorian...can't. He can't go to him right away, can't hold him close until the shaking has finally stopped. There is tenderness on the road, the gentle touches that assure them both that the other is still alive, but Dorian waits until Skyhold is safe around them before he can truly believe his amatus is safe.

Then they will have words.

Iron Bull: Katoh. There are demons and mages and all manner of magicky....things trying to kill them. If he has failed as a front line body guard to his Kadan, he will not fail their inquisition. The gaping wound deep in his soul will have to wait until...

Until later. Katoh.

(Later, of course, he brings out the good rope and spends plenty of time explaining exactly why they will never do this again.)

Cullen: He wants to weep of course, to throw his sword away and scream, but there is simply no time. Thousands of souls rely on their commander to see them through, and no matter his own grief he will not abandon them. He gives orders and directs soldiers and fights on until the bitter end. When that is done he pushes onward, pushing himself to hold the line and trying to strike down his inner demons by slaughtering outer ones. There is nothing else left.

When she returns to him, there is not even an attempt to hide their reunion as some sort of debrief or meeting. The soldiers might cheer and whistle as their commander carries the Herald to his tent (not for that, lay abouts!) but as it is for their love of both commander and Inquisitor neither very much mind.

Josephine: The hours between one missive and the next are some of the most desolate she has ever known. Leliana and Cullen and all of those persons she has grown close to in the Inquisitors inner circle are gone, and so she can take only a few moments in the stairwell to that dark and hidden library to sob out her grief. If the inquisitor is indeed fallen it will require all of her acumen to keep their allies close, and that is not something that can be done in the early pain of her grief.

If she is there longer than she intended, her wails and sobs swallowed by the silent stone, no one need ever know. And blessed Andraste surely has a hand over her herald, as the next missive is jubilant in the news that her love indeed lives. Her tears are joyful now, but that does not mean she will not have words when their beloved Inquisitor returns.

Mod Fereldone

#dragon age inquisition #cassandra pentaghast #varric tethras #solas #warden blackwall #dorian pavus #the iron bull #romance #adamant fortress #gray warden

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weepingpalaceathletelight-blog · 10 months ago

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There's a difference between shipping two characters and acknowledging the intense (usually gay) bond between characters. You guys get what I mean, right? Like I'm not just going insane?

Like a BSD example:

-I casually ship Louisa X Lucy because I feel like their dynamic could work in a romantic context and because I love it when girls are in love and they both deserve to be happy 🩷

-HOWEVER Chuuya and Dazai have an intense bond, they are one soul in two bodies, written and designed to compliment the other, Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life and vice versa, Dazai believed in Chuuya's humanity from the very beginning, their old and sorted dynamic, Chuuya being like the only one who understands Dazai's motives, and so, knowing all of this, I simply have no choice but to acknowledge their homosexuality because if I don't then I'm just being willfully ignorant

Or a MHA example:

-I somewhat ship Dabi x Hawks because it's hilarious whilst also having beautiful potential for angst

-BUT Bakugou and Midoriya quite simply just are gay as shit for each other and I have no choice but to accept it. Rivals constantly pushing the other, their complicated history and how they've both grown because of it, their understanding of the other, Bakugou basically trusting Midoriya with his fears and insecurities, Bakugou being the first to know about One for All, Kaachan Bakugou.

Or a MTP example:

-I guess you could say I ship Microsoft X Albert because I think it's sorta very funny and extremely plausible.

-MEANWHILE William and Sherlock are like the only person who understands each other and can keep up with them and Sherlock is diving off of buildings and cradling William's head as they fall (in love).

Or a JJK example:

-I kinda ship Maki X Nobara because I can and I want to and they could work

-ALTERNATIVELY Gojo and Geto where each others one and only best friend, best friend they ever had, knows his smell, his heart and soul know otherwise. They're just disgustingly in love and I hate it but there's nothing I can do about it except cry

Or a Haikyuu example:

-I do ship Hanamaki X Matsukawa because lord is it hilarious and the fanon presentation of a romantic relationship between them is always the funniest thing ever and the fics are so good

-YET Hinata and Kageyama are exactly what the other needed, Kageyama found his better half, their constant pushing of the other to do better, promises fulfilled and matches won, casual moments and casual touch. I did not choose to see them in a romantic light, they forced me to. I am a victim

Or a Merlin example:

-I dabble in shipping Percival X Gwaine purely because I can and no one is gonna stop me

-ALTHOUGH Merlin and Arthur are so gross and icky and care about each other so much and repeatedly risk their lives for the other and Arthur asked Merlin to hold him whilst he dies and Merlin spends forever waiting for Arthur's return. I just can't view them platonically or something after everything I've seen them do and I don't believe anyone who says that they truly don't seem them as romantic or at least something other than platonic or brotherly because how could you not??

Or a Doctor Who example:

-I could ship the Doctor X Jack because that's actually class

-UNFORTUNATELY that would be asking me to ignore the Doctor and Rose. He burned up a sun to say goodbye. He loved her. She loved him, was willing to never see her mother again if it meant she stayed with him. I'm sorry but cmonnnn

Nah but you get what I mean, right? Like I don't 'ship' these people, they're just IN LOVE and I hate them for it.

#shipping #thoughts #bkdk #bsd #skk #mha #mtp sherlock #sherliam #jjk #satosugu #haikyuu #kagehina #shobio #merlin #merthur #doctor who #rose tyler

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hanaonesflower · 2 years ago

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5.7k words — this is a hefty one boys :33 never thought i would be writing such an elaborate fic abt Toji since I’ve never felt this strongly about him as a character but oh MAN ever since that leak of his animation… I’ve had a change of heart 🤡🤡

｡+ﾟ *｡

Your neighbor had always been branded as the sex nuisance and rudest man on the block. Ever since he moved in, no one in the neighborhood could get a moment of peace, especially those live within a 4-houses radius from him. When his mail was mistakenly sent to your home, you learned of his honorifics, Mr. Toji Fushiguro. Toji had always been seen with 2 children, unbeknownst to you, they were his biological kids. His daughter, who seemed a few years older than his son. But you never see another parental figure around, just him and 2 kids. You sometimes notice a maroon minivan coming by and the 2 children would eagerly bolt toward it and slamming the door shut, unbothered to say goodbye to their father standing outside, waving them away. You tried your best to stay away, but it didn’t help that his master bedroom’s window was directly across from your own, not being able to see absolutely everything, mission impossible.

It would make sense that he was a single parent, or the custody parent. Because he often came home with different women when the children were away, who you could catch glimpses of them fucking on his fancy, throne-like bed. You saw the way his arms forced their way on top of hers, and how his hips seemed to always drive insanely inside of her. The first few times you’d pretend to not see anything, closing the blinds almost immediately after seeing lewdness spilling out of his window, and cranking the music up to drown out the disturbing moments. But as of lately, you haven’t been able to close your blinds, you turned down the music when you started to see lewdness spilling out of his window. You shut off the lights, so that he couldn’t see the fact that you were spying on your neighbor fucking another person on his bed. The space between your home and his was no more than 13 feet, it was close, too close for comfort. But in moments like these, you couldn’t be happier.

You found yourself sensitive watching him doing the things that he did, the way he sounded when he thrust into the woman, the way he grunted and moaned when he murmured something like “oh fuck I came”. The red mood lighting in his room illuminated his figure like a dark entity but something about it was so alluring. You stayed low on your bed, making sure no part of your body rose above the window sill, propping your head slightly with a new pillows at the foot of the bed, giving you the best view of the scene. Your fingers absentmindedly crawled towards your heat. Was it embarrassment?

Maybe.

Was it fear of moral scrutiny that made you stop when you were on the verge of release? Definitely.

Toji didn’t notice much about your presence as his neighbor, much less bother to speak to you. But you watched him like a hawk, peering out any window to scan his whereabouts, when his car left and when he returned, who he was with and where he might have gone to. You quickly realized it was stalking but it didn’t hurt if you didn’t deliberately cause him any harm or disturbance. But oh, you were dying to speak with him.

You didn’t want to force it, looking desperate was not fitting and you tried to avoid it at all costs but man, the way your thighs clench together when you saw the way his hips thrust so beautiful in the other women, the way they moaned out loud, the way you thought that could be you, too. You could be under him, chained to the bed, his large calloused hands roughing you up and his cock bully freely into your dripping cunt. You wanted it, so bad. So you spent your nights touching yourself to the afterthought of his sexcapades, replaying each rhythmic thrust of his hips and the praises he murmured, it felt like they were yours to hear. You were content with this, with the orgasmic release every single night without the full satisfaction of being at his mercy.

Then the mail arrived at your home, and it was under Toji’s name. It was a package more like, so you thought to return it. On your way out the door, you came to realize the house was currently vacant and he wasn’t home. You debated internally, to wait for his return before going over, just to have a moment with him, so you waited.

And waited.

Until 3 days later when he finally pulled up to his driveway, looking handsomely haggard with a duffel bag that he swung out from the trunk. You bolted towards the door, package in hand and ran over to his porch like your life depended on it. Your hands clumsily pawed at the lock, unable to twist the simple knob and broke free from the confines of your shitty latch, haphazardly swing the door shut behind you.

He had already shut the door behind him but regardless you knocked. One. Two. Three. Three standard knocks that everyone does. You waited a while, you didn’t figure why you wanted him to swing the door open right away and scoop you up in his arms and fuck you against the wall. Such lewd thoughts in the middle of the day. But eventually the lock unlatched, and your heart skipped a thousand beats along with it. Toji appeared and your lewd thoughts have increased, they became raunchier, rougher. You did everything to hide the facial expressions.

“T-this is for you,” you said, pushing the package in front of you, towards him, with your forearms and hands wrapped around the box, “the delivery person must have left it at mine by mistake,” you felt like the sun was beaming down your neck and each bead of sweat fell like a full dumbbell onto the wooden deck, “I didn’t see that you were home so I kept it just in case people might steal your packages.” You heaved as if you came up for air from the bottom of the ocean.

He didn’t say anything at first, but sighed and said, “those fools get my packages to the wrong address all the time,” he rolled his eyes, expressing extreme annoyance. Toji reached his arms like and you flinched at them, they were huge, but he didn’t seem to notice. “But I’m glad it ended up at the house of such a pretty girl,” he smirked, “usually it’s the sweet old grans living down the street. One time the package was so heavy she wheeled it on a dolly, so adorable, I decided to give her money for the inconvenience.” How sweet. You thought.

“That’s very sweet of you,” obviously flustered from his initial remarks, you turned your head away, shying your chin away from his gaze, yours stay cemented to the blue wood panels beneath.

“Indeed it is, isn’t it?” You nodded, remained in this position. “Cute, thank you for this.” He sighed, the sigh you could only achieved by expiring from your diaphragm.

“Y-you’re so welcome!” You said, gleefully crack a smile without maintaing eye contact. You fiddled your thumbs for what seemed like forever, you needed to say goodbye, but you didn’t want to. Not when this was the closest you’ve gotten to him in 6 months. If those old grannies down the street got to him first, you were surely way behind on that line.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Huh. Pretending as if you misheard him, you slowly rotated your head back to him, locking eyes, and morphed into a genuinely confused shock. “What?” You muttered. “Why, don’t you come inside, with me?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your privacy,” every nerve in your body was blazing, energized with the flame of excitement and immenent arousal. You wanted to come inside and whore out for him, you wanted to be pinned down by his huge arms and fucked until you couldn’t speak. But modesty still can first. “Aren’t you sweet, but no. I could use some company right now, my kids are gone until next week.” You had no choice when his face was only a few inches from yours, you can smell his breath, minty. Okay, you said.

You followed behind him, shutting the door, making sure to twist it lock. He led you to the kitchen, where he set down the package on one the leather bounded chairs around his dining table. Toji grumbled noncommitally before asking if you’d like some champagne. Rule number one was to never consume any intoxicating substances at a stranger’s home. But damn, all the sexual fantasies you’ve entertained yourself with were plaguing your mind. Acting against survival instinct, yes, you said.

He poured wine into the most beautiful glass flutes you’ve ever seen. Each twirl of the liquid fell beautifully like a waterfall back down to its vortex, the champagne was fragrant, you weren’t a wine expert but couldn’t help to spot a hint of pear.

“Cheers,” he said. Your glasses clinked but not a word from you, he was sitting beside you with a one arm stationed on the back of your chair, as if slowly claiming territory with you.

It was until then that you scanned his home, it was quaint. The house was tidy for a man but littered with clutter as two kids also lived here. There was a sliding door covered behind beige curtains that you assumed led to the backyard. This house had so much warmth so it, the yellow hues settling throughout the space, warming you up from the inside.

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” It’s dinner time already? Unaware that the yellow hues were resulted from the setting sun, the orange started to bleed through, blending itself with the yellow shades, the multitude of colors dancing on the walls, on the ceiling, on your hands and on his hair. This guy is not rude at all. You thought to yourself.

“I really shouldn’t,” you paused, wanting to say his name but unsure of which to use. “Toji, you can call me Toji.” As if he read your mind, “and yes, yes you should,” his voice low like a rumble and his breath fanned the side of your neck, he equated proximity with persuasion, and to his delight, it worked. Although stuttering, you coughed up a yes, sir and he seemed quite pleased with this development.

“I’ll be making it, you don’t have to lift a finger, why won’t you just keep me company, sweetheart?” Toji got up from his seat before pulling your arm towards the kitchen island, where he had the ingredients set up for the meal. Okonomiyaki, he said.

You fondled the ingredients in your hand, a bag of all purpose flour that was already used with the top folded down four times, large white onions, dill and cilantro with the eel sauce and Japanese mayonnaise sitting at room temperature.

Two hands grabbing you by the waist, pinching pressure and he lifted you up to the counter in one, effortless scoop. Your butt flat on the marble countertop, it was cold, so you winced – hard. Sorry, he said. He stayed out between your legs momentarily, hands firm on your wide thighs, he loved big thighs. Toji debated whether or not he should take you right there, but his stomach growled, breaking the silence. You pinched your lips together, sealing a laugh that was this close to breaking free.

Guess I should get dinner started now, he shied away. His hands left your thighs, where he was wanted and where he wanted to be. You watched as he chopped, sliced, diced, crushed and then some before the smell of that pungent eel sauce filled the air and your stomach started to growl, too. Toji said he liked to eat standing up, saying that because of his two kids, actually being about to sit down for dinner was a luxury. Toji was young, in his mid 30s at best, but fatherhood aged him in ways that was much more accelerated. He had premature crows feet, smile lines and the crinkle between his eyebrows.

The meal was mostly eaten in silence, with a few stolen glances here and there. It was unlike you to willingly enter a stranger’s home, but Toji was hot so you couldn’t be blamed. If you died here, it would have been a satisfied death.

After the dishes were washed and racked, Toji dried his hands on a piece of gray microfiber towels hung on the handle of the oven. He returned to his favorite place – your thighs –, it felt like time stopped. This time, nothing else was going to come in between the two of you. Tension was high, the air felt so heavy it could crush you. His breath and yours synced, your chests rose and fell like a dance, never missing a beat, always uniformed.

Mostly Toji was trying to admire you, standing close, leaving little room for personal space and his hands wanted to roam all over. But he could sense some hesitation within you, slowing himself down, allowing each moment to carry his movements.

“Why don’t you… stay the night?” He asked, a completely mindless question on his part, but you were completely taken aback. “Toji, sir, I have only met you today,” you choked, “it would not be a good idea for me.” Heat rose within your chest, tinnitus raging in your ears, sweat pooled at the palms of your hands.

“Are you sure it’s your first time seeing me, because I know a peeping Tom, when I see one.” His tone and facial expression became less sweet and sensual, and became more primal, possessive. The sweet smile he carried earlier vanished and replaced with a devious smirk, his eyes narrowed, his canines revealed as his upper lip jerked upward. Surely, he must have been joking, and you were clueless of his remarks.

You weren’t able to form a response that was appropriate for this, so you just giggled instead, praying for it to pass.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You looked, wide eyed, “answer the question, sweetheart, do you — think I’m stupid.” His face inched closer and closer, although this was somehow what you wished, this time felt more sinister.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Toji,”

“Of course you do, don’t play dumb with me,” his fingertips squeezed hard around the flesh your thighs, you winced from the shooting pain, his fingerprints could very much well be imprinted on your skin. His eyes situated on your face, unmoving, unphased.

Your silence was not well received by him, he shoved his mouth on yours, subjecting you to a bruising, damning kiss that only he could deliver. Your senses paused, malfunctioned and your mind reeled insanely through the many lewd thoughts you had now playing right before your eyes. His hand found your throat, pinching and massaging the sides of your esophagus, before pulling away.

“So you’re telling you’ve never watched me?” His words were as clear as day, you froze, realizing that you, in fact, knew exactly what he was referring to. To the nights that you spent touching yourself at the dark silhouette that was him. To the nights that you couldn’t help but be a fucking pervert and gawk of that the way his hips moved and the way you wished that it was you that he fucked.

“I didn’t mean to, but I just couldn’t help myself,” you said what he wanted to hear and to your satisfaction he was happy to have heard that. His tough hands were no longer staying in one place, they glide up and down your thighs, pinching, scratching, leaving marks.

“Oh, you couldn’t help but stare at me while I was having sex with someone else? That’s new.” In one swift motion his hands hooked on the back of your knees and using his strength to toss you towards his welcoming hips. “Stay the night, and I’ll show you what you’ve been wanting.” He’s got you now, body fitted in his embrace so you leaned down to kiss him, a messy kiss, full of desperation, full of lust, full of longing. To be touched by Toji, was the greatest pleasure.

Weaving through the narrow hallway, still with your legs wrapped his waist, he swiped the box from earlier and escorted you to his bedroom. You didn’t realize how the sky was now a dark navy, the street lamps have long been turned on, the neighbors have all retreated inside their homes.

When the door closed behind you and a lock was twisted shut, that you let go of him. You scanned the room, the infamous room that you’ve spent the last 6 months wondering what it would look like. But now you were here, and your suspicions were indeed NOT confirmed. He had a normal room, and not some sex dungeon. A king bed with an exposed wooden frame, 2 feet off the ground, he had bedside tables on either side of the bed, and a nice brown rug to tie everything together. He had accent lights instead of the chandelier you somehow thought of. He didn’t have ropes and chains nailed to his wall and his bed hasn’t collapsed. (Yet). He had framed photos of his kids when they were babies, facing away from the bed.

“Tell me, what do you feel right now?” when he pressed his palm against your cheek and the other hand finding the dip in your waist. “I feel weak,” you said. “And why is that?” He only leaned down to kiss your neck but the motion startled you so bad you jumped, cornered by the side of his bed when you toppled on top of his mattress. “Because I’m at your mercy,” he lowered his lips to your ear, “indeed you are.”

He was quick, his hands ravaged your clothes, tearing them off like he’d done it a million times. Well, he had. You held no protest, allowing him to gain access to you so easily you grimaced in the face of submission. Until you were nothing but panty clad, your pussy dripping on the mattress. He lingered a while at the edge of the bed, running his eyes all around you, each gaze felt piercing, probing, but you loved it. He was fucking you with his eyes.

He palmed his cock, it was hard and throbbing and leaking out on his cream colored pants. “Do you see what you’re doing to me?” Toji exclaimed, his eyes narrowed, his breath shortened and quickened, his lips parted and his hands hungry. He rubbed his dick up and down its length, groaning as he pressed his palm down harder on it. “I’ve already known who you are, my sweet, the girl next door, always taking a peak at me when I get out of the shower,” he grinned at you as if you’ve been exposed. “Am I right? You stare at me through the shades of your window and think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I really thought I was being sneaky,” maybe it was the alcohol, or a total fluke, but you were being mischievous, and shall you say — cheeky. His expression to that wasn’t obvious, you tried to get a read on him, but the more you tried, the more mystified you became. Toji’s eyebrows weren’t exactly ones that expressed intrigue and his lips didn’t show any lust. His posture was neutral when he still grabbed you before kissing you fervently all over. Ah. Now you knew how he felt.

He was demanding, demanding of your touches, of your attention, of your presence. Toji was harsh with you, each beat of your heart tore through the silence of the room. You weren’t sure if it had gotten warmer or your body heat had just risen, either way you were damp with a sheen coat of sweat; and under the small light in the room, you glow like no other.

The highlights and contours of your curves accentuated, each dip and valley of your tits got him mesmorized the more he looked.

Toji could only find the strength to pin you down by the crook of your knees, spreading your pussy wide apart (which was drenched by the way). Toji inched closer, breathing light breezes on your clit but his arms kept you from squirming.

“H-hey, wait, I haven’t,” you wanted to say you didn’t shave, but it was like Toji read your mind when he carelessly dove in your wetness, his tongue went wild, his rhythm so erratic it was hard to predict his movements. But the sweetest part was him moaning and groaning and growling like a helpless dog against your heat, as if your body could be giving him more. He wanted more. He wanted more of those tenderness you provided him to sharply contrast his gruffness.

“This day could have come 6 months sooner,” he said after removing himself from your clit, seething through his teeth as if he resented you. He wanted to take those 6 months back, 6 months of him fucking into other holes that he wished were yours instead. Because Toji may or may not have lied about not knowing you.

You see, Toji would wrap his hand around his bulging cock as he peaked at you when you leave the shower when you forgot the shut the blinds. Even from afar, he admired the water cascading down your slippery body, your wet hair sticky to your body, the silhouette he dreamt to touch. A flimsy towel carelessly wrapped around your chest, threatening to loosen with just a single wrong move. He waited for it to drop, he waited for that towel to abruptly fall to your feet, he was betting on it. Toji couldn’t find it in him to bring that upon you, so he thought it was easier to bring home girls from the bars he frequented and wished they were you instead.

You could have been mine six months ago, sweetheart, he grumbled. He was face to face with you now, noses scraping each other as his fingers pumped themselves deep in your dripping cunt. Toji had a thing, a huge, thing, for messy make out sessions. You know, the ones where you can find spit dripping down the other person’s chin and the way you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Your fingers intertwined in his hair, your nails scratching his scalp softly, your lips fluttered along with his.

Why did you make me wait six months? He growled, Toji was angry, frustrated that he spent six months busying himself with his children and temporarg women to help him be distracted from you. But the more he pulled away, the bigger the force towards you became. Like a rubberband, the further you pull, the more resistance it sustains, eventually snapping back to its original structure. Toji felt an inexplicable pull towards you that he couldn’t resist.

But I’m here now, I’m here now, you said. No, you pleaded. Please don’t hate me, you thought, please don’t punished me, you said. It amazed you how you found those two lines synonymous.

Punish you? He was puzzled, although some part of him found it arousing as you might be into that kind of stuff.

You aren’t going to punish me? You asked innocently, as though genuinely hoping he wouldn’t, you didn’t mind if Toji got a little mean with you. After all, you deserved his wrath, to him, you have deprived him of what he longed for and for six months he was devoid for some actual gratification.

No, sweetie, at least not today, today I want to spend it, he said before kissing you hard on the lips that your teeth clashed, making it up to you, he said. Kissing down your neck and pinching your nipples in between his fingers while still having you clamped beneath him. Your bra was haphazardly unbuckled and your pantries hung loose at your ankle when Toji pulled it off earlier.

That’s a relief, thank you, you smiled. A really sweet and innocent smile that Toji wanted to corrupt. You’ve always had such a divine presence to you, so innocent and pure, so perfect for him to taint it. Toji wanted to see you slobbering all over his cock, the tip of it bulging in your throat and widening it with each thrust he delivered. You were drunk on it, Toji’s relentless, both in stature and strength.

When he got you in your knees, your skin met carpet and each movement pained your knees of carpet burn. But you pushed through it, taking every inch of his dick down your throat, gagging but very much enjoying this. While his hands on the sides of your head, gripping tight as he shoved his way pass your jaws and down your tight throat. You stuck your tongue out each time he bottomed out to stimulate his balls, heavy breeder balls sagging beneath his shaft. The gagging made your eyes roll to the back of your head, his vision blurred before you, but the feeling of his throbbing cock was present for each sensation. He fucked you so hard you both saw stars.

You’re so fucking good to me, sweetheart, baby yes please keep going, he moaned. Grinding further and further into your mouth. Toji’s stamina had decreased over the minutes but you had just been getting started, when his pace slowed, you pushed him further into the wall. You began pulling your head back and forth, subjecting yourself to the force and glory that was his cock, but he was helpless now, not when you took him like a champ without his help. I’m so proud of you, pretty baby, he moaned again.

“I want to make it up to you, too, Toji,” a look of pure earnest, he wanted to reward you so fucking bad. “You’re making it up to me so well, good fucking girl,” your two fingers circled your engorged clit, puffy and sore with need, missing him.

Before long, he came hard into your mouth, so much that some of spilled out to the side your mouth, and Toji kissed you, wiping it away with his tongue. “Do you like how I taste?” He asked, you nodded with your tongue out like a slut, his little slut. Toji’s cum was sweet, it tasted healthy.

“Are you sure you haven’t fucked someone before because goddamn,” you weren’t sure why Toji assumed you were a virgin but at least you could tell him that this was your first big girl blow job. “Is that so? I wouldn’t have known,” he smiled down at you, still on your knees, spread out for him gleaming up with Bambi eyes.

“You were so amazing sweetheart, come on, come to the bed.” When Toji bent down and picked you up like a bride on her wedding day and placed you down on his soft mattress. Memory foam. His blankets smelt fresh of rose detergent and eucalyptus dryer sheets. It didn’t take long for him to find his place on top of you, pumping his cock in his hand, “spread your legs,” he demanded, and you complied. Holding yourself by your knees, your legs opened wide, welcoming him in between. The girth of his cock was a godsend because oh, my, god. The drag, the friction were all better than what you’ve imagined. The feelings of your flesh rubbing together, creating overwhelming rushes of euphoria throughout both your bodies.

You didn’t notice when Toji reached into the box he’d brought up earlier and pulled out a purple rod; a vibrator. It was big, he clicked on it before it started to violently buzz. He methodically placed the silicone top of it to your clit, rolling and pressing it onto your sensitive spot and you could only convulse in a mix of pain, pleasure and little awkwardness. “I’ve been meaning to use this on myself but the perfect opportunity is just right in front of me,” he growled, changing the speed and rhythm of the vibe to compliment the thrust of his hips; his teammate. The vibration slowly started to numb your skin and Toji’s hand, but he wasn’t letting up until you squirted all over him. When your orgasm came through from the vibe, it dropped from his abs down to the white sheets, staining his Sherpa blanket but he said it was the least of his concerns. Toji like it when girls are submissive to him and you simply just melted in his hands.

“You’re perfect, you’re perfect,” he chanted, to him, you were perfect, just the best. One hand propped up on his hip from behind as if he was using it to push further into you, additional force, just what he needed. You liked the view from underneath him, you were able to bask in the sight of his ripped body, his abs toned and refined in more ways than one, the shine lingering from your juices earlier. His arms beside your heads were like rock columns, unbreakable, impenetrable. The power of his hips left yours feeling sore and bruised up.

For a moment of sheer intimacy Toji brought his hand to the top of your head, scruffing your hair before bringing it down to your temple and holding it there. Although the drive of his hips was still somewhat animalistic and inhuman, his face and voice conveyed a different message that was much softer, more sultry. Not much was spoken between you two when his cock drove in and out of your pussy but Toji was sure to announce his orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, let me cum in this pretty little pussy of yours yeah? Please, please let me cum inside,” and who were you to deny him of that after he’d been so sincere. Toji was so polite when he begged to breed you full of his seed, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer so might as well just bite your tongue and nod. Your eyes swell when you felt the warm ropes shooting straight towards your cervix, an unmoving target for him. Toji at this point, overstimulated and frazzled, looking completely haggard with sweat dripping down his temples. His hips still rolled, although lazily at this point, just wringing out any leftover pleasure from his high. “You did a good job, you did such a good job,” he cooed in your ear before you started to feel a blurry sensation washing over you, you were falling asleep.

“I’ll take care of you sweetheart, just let go,” you weren’t sure if you were so deep into it that you believed him so easily but Toji did what he said he would. After drifting off to sleep, he managed to climb out of bed, ass naked and hung up your clothes that were scattered on the carpet. He took a velvet hook from his closet and slipped them on neatly, hanging them on the hook of his door. Toji grabbed a small rag and drenched it with warm water, running it over your body, being extra careful around your face.

The warmth rushed you further into slumber.

You didn’t mind being one of the girls he cycled through as long as you could smell him, feel him, see him and how his cock felt like heaven. But Toji thought he’d keep you for now, for a long time from now.

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