you had your hair caught in the zipper of your jacket sleeve. joking and ironic, you looked at me with fluttering lashes and said don’t you just love me? you warned me over a mouthful of ice cream that you were wife material. in moments you felt ugly you laughed and said you’d steal the heart out of my chest. the joke here is that you’re wrong, of course. you can’t take something that’s always been yours.
Summary: Soulmate!AU - When your soulmate gets hurt you receive a flower tattoo on your body on the same location they were wounded. Imagine (Y/N) having her whole left arm covered in flowers while Buckys whole hand was covered in them.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 2.3k
Warning: There really isn’t any, unless you’re afraid of Bucky finding happiness. If you’re afraid of that I feel sorry for you.
A/N: First soulmate au?? Been wanting to do this one long before I started this blog??
When Bucky grew up he didn’t have flowers on him like the other kids. Nobody ever knew that, of course, he was good looking enough to get whoever he wanted at his hip. That’s one main reason why he got along with Steve, Steve never got any either. They both believed maybe they weren’t destined to have a soulmate, of course there was the option that their soulmates maybe never have been hurt but it was a long shot.
After being woken up from his cryogenic stasis and retrieving most of his memories back he realized his whole right hand was covered in flowers. He never believed he had a soulmate but it registered in his head that his soulmate was from a different time period than what he was from. He soon also figured out that Steve also had the same issue; He had a soulmate but was destined to meet them after he woke up from his frozen state.
As for (Y/N)? She had millions of flowers. Some were randomly placed on her body, Bucky had them as well. But the ones that stood out the most were the full sleeve she had on her left arm. She often hid it but lately she began to flaunt it off. Her soulmate had to have had something messed with their whole left arm, it wouldn’t have been that hard to point out in public too. She always looked out for the left arms of strangers in public, but she never had good luck.
Not only that but (Y/N) constantly looked at the hands of people as well. She knew they would have flowers there. She wasn’t as normal and ordinary as others, she had powers that nobody else had. She hid them, she knew what happened to people after they showed others the gifts they possessed. She was practically a human torch, she could heat up anything she wanted. When she was younger she was practicing and accidentally burned her hands, it was so bad that she couldn’t use them for weeks and had to make up an excuse that she did it while cooking something. Of course everyone believed her because nobody thought of the alternative that she had super powers. She hated the way her hands looked, scars covered them from her wrist to the top of her fingers, she would never go anywhere without hiding them with gloves.
She was cleaning up the counters of her job in the middle of the day when an oddly large group walked in. She sighed to herself knowing she would have to take care of them because the only other person on duty was already at another table. (Y/N) was wearing a classic blue and white waitress outfit and her jacket, it was a chilly day so nobody obliged to her clothing choices. She often wore a jacket anyways, only due to the tattoos crawling up her left arm.
(Y/N) walked up to the table that the group had chose to sit at before preparing herself to take their orders. She flipped open her small notebook before taking the pen out of her pocket, plastering a fake smile on her face.
“Hello, I’m (Y/N). I’ll be your waitress today, if you need anything please run it by me! I can order your drinks if you would like and while I go make them I’ll give you time to choose what you’d like to order.” She gave a toothy smile before looking at everyone, waiting for someone to point out what they’d like to drink.
“I’ll just have a water, please.” The blonde male spoke up first and gave you a smile.
“Me too, I’d like a water.” His darker friend next to him ordered the same thing and thanked her shortly after.
“I’ll have a strawberry milkshake and my pal here would like a coffee, please.” A redhead clapped her hands before patting her older friend on the back, receiving a glare that soon turned into a joking smile.
“And you two?” (Y/N) looked at the two males who haven’t given a drink yet. One was looking at the menu while the other was staring off into his lap.
“I suppose you don’t have alcohol here, do you?” A bearded (and clearly) wealthy man gave her a look before setting the drink menu down.
“No sir. The only drinks we have are on that menu.”
“Then I’ll just have a shake as well. Make it a mint.”
She wrote down the drink before focusing her gaze on the quiet man. His head was down and his conscience clearly wasn’t with the rest of them. His long brown hair overlapped most of his face and a hat was covering his eyes. He wore a baggy black sweatshirt and gloves. If anything, he didn’t want to be there and it was very noticeable.
“He’ll have a water too, thanks.” The same blonde from earlier spoke up on the quiet mans behalf. She nodded with a smile before returning to behind the counter to make the drinks. She was almost done until a bit of the mint milkshake spilt onto the sleeve of her jacket. She cursed quietly to the point where only she could hear herself and removed her jacket, setting it in the back room before looking at her tattooed arm in disgust. She always wanted to flaunt her arm around but never while on the job. She mostly got bad looks from it and it often decreased her chances on a tip. If it meant less money, then she wasn’t a big fan.
She finished the drinks before placing them onto a tray and carrying them to the table with one hand. She set half of it down on the table and half balanced with her knee before she started to hand them out towards everyone. When she was finished she set the tray under her arm and pulled out her notebook once again to write down the orders of the group. She smiled to the few who thanked her for the drinks.
“Have enough time to figure out what you want to eat?” She put on the same fake smile as before. They ordered their food one after one and yet again the quiet man was the one that was last to order. She looked up at him only to realize his eyes were strongly fixated onto her arm. Her confidence completely dropped knowing the meaning behind his stare, every time a customer laid eyes onto her arm she felt insecure, she felt as if she should apologize like it was her fault, and so she did.
“I am so very sorry, sir. I’ll go put on my jacket.” She was about to quickly go throw on her stained jacket before he spoke up in a deep, raspy voice. It was the first words he had spoken since he entered the building.
“Why do you wear gloves?” She stopped in her tracks and stared at his with wide eyes. By this point the rest of the group had realized why he was so interested in her arm and hands. They all shared the same look, they all wondered if this was Buckys soulmate.
“To hide what’s underneath.” Her eyebrows were furrowed at the mysterious man. She had to admit, she had no idea what his deal was. First he stares at her arm and then asks what she is hiding underneath the leather on her hands. Of course, she was oblivious to what was happening but perhaps it’s because she didn’t know what was under his left arms sleeve.
Buckys right arm pulled down the zipper of his jacket before tearing it off. At the same time he ripped off the gloves from his hands and stared at the flowers inked perfectly around his palms. (Y/N)’s eyes widen as she looked at the cybernetic limb connected to his body. His whole left arm was missing, and her whole left arm was covered. Bucky raised his human hand and showed her the printings on it, his eyebrow raised as he focused his gaze on her covered hands.
Overcoming her ego, she set the tray and notebook down on a nearby table before unbuckling the bucks on her gloves and sliding them off. Her hands were burnt beyond any recognition, if it weren’t for the obvious figure by her fingers and palms, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was actual human flesh. Bucky soon stood up and walked towards (Y/N).
“Come with me.” He whispered into her ear with a stern voice. She quickly caught on before grabbing her notebook and handing it to her co-worker. Her co-worker nodded in agreement, by the look on (Y/N)’s face she knew she needed a moment. She quickly thanked her before running out the front doors to meet up with the stranger who just so happened to possibly be her soulmate. When she walked out he had his hat in one hand balanced on his hip and his other was running through his hair. They stood there silently for a minute before he looked her in the eye and spoke up.
“I have a line of flowers on my lower back.” His hand went to the neck of his shirt before lifting up a bit to show the tattoo on his back. (Y/N)’s hand came to cover her mouth. It was the same scar she received when she was little, it reach from the lower part of her back to the middle. If she wasn’t wearing a dress she would have showed him then and there to prove to him.
“You’re my soulmate.” She spoke through her hand. He hands dropped to his sides as he stared at face. He stared at every detail noticeable by the human eye before looking at her burnt hands covering her lips. He saw the way her nose perked out, the way her (Y/E/C) eyes stared at his. Her eyes were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he could stare at them for hours. He stared at her luscious (Y/H/C) hair and the way it was perfectly laying above her shoulders.
“God, you’re beautiful.” His hand hesitantly came up and caressed hers, overlapping her cheek. Within a second her hands snaked around the boys neck and pulled his body into a tight hug. His body tensed up from the contact but soon after he relaxed and put his around her waist. She set her head in the crook of his neck and smelt his amazing aroma. After a moment of standing there (Y/N) opened her eyes and saw his friends staring out the side window at them. She let out a small giggle before pointing into their direction.
When Bucky turned around he let out a big scoff before giving them the finger, his lips turned into a smile once he heard the beautiful, moment-stopping laugh escaping her lips. He grabbed her hand before giving it a kiss and staring at the scars left on her.
“You shouldn’t hide your hands, you know.”
“And you shouldn’t hide your arm.”
Bucky had stayed with (Y/N), sitting at the bar stool where she normally would be behind the stand. His friends soon left after eating and patted him on his back, knowing he was going to stay for a while. They talked all night like normal people having a normal conversation. He learned about her past and she learned about his.
“So why exactly did you feel the need to put your jacket on earlier when I was looking at your arm? And why do you wear the gloves? I mean I understand the looks you would get from people, I get them too when people see my arm but… I’m just asking why you care of what others think.”
She set the last dirty dish into the washer before turning it on and facing him. “It doesn’t give you the best reputation.” She removed the rubber gloves from her hands and placed them into the trash before lifting her hands and studying every crease and imperfection.
“I hate being known as the girl with the burnt hands. I hate receiving stares and sympathy looks. I hate walking down the street and hearing someone whisper ‘that really must have hurt’. People who want their food suspect that a well professional, that isn’t covered in ink and scars will serve them, hiding them not only satisfies their needs but it gets me more money. It’s just how business works.”
His hands reach for hers and brought them up to his lips. He kissed the top of her hand over and over and looked into her eyes.
“Don’t ever feel like you need to hide anything from me. You’re my soulmate and I wouldn’t want you any other way. Besides, your arm is my fault anyways. If I hadn’t lost my arm then-” (Y/N) smiled at him before cutting him off.
“Don’t. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” His teeth shined through and she mimicked his smile. They had been there hour after hour talking about anything and everything. It was the first time Bucky had truly opened up to someone and he didn’t regret it at all. He loved the way she would smile and laugh at any joke he said, whether it was funny or not. He loved the way she would give him a concerned and loving look after he shared a hurtful memory from his past. He loved the way she would listen to every word he would say, thoughtfully while simultaneously thinking of the perfect thing to say back. He wasn’t even suppose to originally come to this restaurant at first but Steve insisted, and he didn’t regret giving into his best friends wishes. He didn’t regret anything he did in his life because it all led up to this moment, the moment where he met the love of his life.
He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He didn’t regret a thing.
Summary: Punk!Phil has a crush, so when Pastel!Dan is manning a kissing booth for a school event, he finds himself showing up with a pound in his pocket.
Word count: 5364
Special thanks goes to Harley (@danslester) for giving me the idea for this fic and encouraging me as I was writing it, and to Gisele (@fringegaps) for reading it over and promising it was okay to post. (Also let me know if you’d be interested in seeing more of this version of Dan and Phil because they were fun to write and I have a few ideas.)
me: idk free! was ok i g– kyoani: btw more free! me, with tears streaming down my face and a renewed vigor for life, tearing off my jacket to reveal an iwatobi sc jacket underneath, and then ripping the zipper of that jacket open to reveal a makoharu shirt underneath that: HYE FUTURE FIS hHWAKE WAKE WAKE WAKE UP
I’m… trying to remember how this guy happened. I think I put together that inkling in game and I instantly wanted to make a character out of him. His design is inspired by flamenco dancers and he became kinda rival to Jonquil.
Unfortunately Citrón can be kinda obnoxious if you’re not interested. He tends to go only after ladies in matches and the zipper of his jacket magically keeps opening everytime I draw him.
I had no idea what to do with this guy but I loved his design so much that I didn’t want him go unused. So, he became the old fourth member of Clementine’s team. He went his own way after the team broke up.
Citrón is not meant to be a big character. If anything, he’s a guilty pleasure to draw (he’s much fun) but I have no idea if he’ll appear again. At least he’s there.
peter’s a little bundle of red and blue and wriggles. he runs into the kitchen wearing one rainboot and leaps into steve’s arms, tony following with the missing boot.
tony looks tired, and steve gives him a soft smile over peter’s head. tony returns it with a weary one of his own.
‘have you been giving your daddy the run around?’ steve asks peter, holding him facing outwards so that he can stick out his last socked little foot for tony to put the boot on.
‘no!’ peter protests. 'love my daddy! give lots kisses!’
steve kisses his ear, reaching out to put his other arm around tony’s waist, drawing him in close. 'alright, sweetheart?’ he asks softly. 'you look awfully tired.’
tony sighs out and turns into steve’s hold, letting his forehead drop into the hollow of steve’s shoulder and resting there. 'i am tired,’ he says, muffled by steve’s shirt. 'i am so tiiired. i could sleep for a week. steven, light of my life, did you make coffee? please say you made coffee, darling.’
'have i ever forgotten your coffee?’ steve says, slightly indignant. he gives tony’s backside a gentle pinch. 'it’s behind you on the counter, sweetest.’
tony moans gratefully and grabs it with both hands, taking a huge gulp. peter giggles at him. 'slurp,’ he tells steve. 'daddy slurping.’
'that’s a new word,’ steve says, smiling and swinging peter down into his chair. 'did clint teach you that?’
'nat. nat slurp,’ peter says cryptically, and flops over the counter to grab a pancake. steve sighs and moves his glass of orange juice to a safe distance.
tony’s still blearily upright, nursing his coffee. steve pulls out a chair and gently guides him into it, and then sits down between the two of them. peter’s happily humming through a mouth stuffed full of pancake, lifting up his legs one by one to admire his rainboots.
tony rests his head on steve’s shoulder. 'thanks,’ he mumbles, and steve slips an arm around him, stroking the hair off his forehead and dropping a kiss there.
'i think we should ask nat to b-a-b-y-sit this afternoon,’ steve murmurs. 'pretty sure she wouldn’t mind. you need a break.’
tony breathes out longingly, with a guilty glance at peter. 'but…’ he says, and steve rubs reassuringly at the knots in tony’s back.
'it’s okay,’ he says gently. 'he’ll love it. nat will love to take him. he’ll be fine, sweetheart, and we can take an afternoon off. you can sleep or do some programming, and i’ll give you a massage.’
tony grins at him, reaching up to fiddle aimlessly with the zipper of steve’s jacket. 'hm. i’m listening. what sort of massage?’
'whatever sort you want,’ steve promises, and then lurches swiftly forward to save peter from receiving an unholy baptism of orange juice. peter fusses half-heartedly, foiled in his plot to wreak messy havoc on the breakfast table; steve distracts him by making a face on a new pancake, cutting holes for eyes and a slit for the mouth.
when he looks back at tony, tony’s watching them with the most beautiful soft look on it, despite the tiredness, and he’s smiling. 'i love you so damn much, steve rogers,’ he says, out of the blue, and leans up to lay a swift light kiss on steve’s cheek.
'swear jar,’ steve says, but he can’t stop smiling.
the puddly, rainy landing area sends peter into raptures of ecstacy, running round in mad circles with excited happy little squeaking noises. his little face is pink-nosed under the blue hood of his raincoat, and he gleefully jumps into a deep puddle, sending cold water everywhere.
steve puts his arm around tony, tucking him into his side; tony leans against him and threads their hands together, ducking his face to avoid the cold spray that peter’s kicking up. 'our child is a maniac,’ he says resignedly.
'to be fair,’ steve says, 'so are we. come on, let’s jump some puddles.’ he turns smoothly to face tony, putting his hands on his husband’s waist and smiling down at him. 'hang on tight, sweetheart,’ he says, his voice full of laughter, and tony barely has time to squeak before steve lifts him up and swings him gracefully over the biggest puddle.
peter shrieks excitedly, running around them in circles. 'papa, PAPA!’ he giggles, 'stop! you drop daddy!“
'i not drop daddy, ever,’ steve says surely, looking down into tony’s flushed laughing face and sparkling eyes. 'daddy not drop me, either.’ he leans down and presses his forehead briefly against tony’s, feeling his warm skin; tony closes his eyes and presses back, smiling.
peter comes and cuddles in between them, making happy cooing sounds. and it’s wet and kind of cold and clammy and peter’s putting his soggy little mittens inside their raincoats, and tony’s face is covered in little clinging droplets as he smiles up into steve’s face like soft sunshine; and steve wants to paint him. and everything’s perfect.
(more ficlets under the 'stevetony ficlet’ tag on my blog - including the prequel to this!)
I’ve always had a thing for Chanyeol’s purple-orange oversized jacket and I don’t think I’m the only one.
Content: ±4000 Graphic Smut of semi-public sex, clothes
kink, rough sex, dirty talk, inclined
Pairing: Chanyeol (EXO) x Reader
hot megastar boyfriend always effortlessly able to drive you to the edge of your
The digital clock on the top of the
table shows 8 PM when you had sat on the a chair in front of the door that
directly leads to the second floor of the house you and your boyfriend shared.
You shift your body in anticipation as you hear the sound of your boyfriend’s
footsteps approaching the doorstep after he parked his car in the garage. It
was one, two, three steps, before you hear him punch the code of the house from
the other side of the door and you hear the familiar beeping sound of the door being
unlocked. The door opens, slowly revealing your ever so tall boyfriend that you
haven’t seen for a month. He was now wearing black head to toe, a confused look
decorated his handsome face. His large eyes are scrunched as he looks into the
dark living room, before stretching his long hands to the left wall in search for
the light buttons.
* it was your first date that he fell in love with your laugh
* You two were walking in the park
* There was a little snow covering the ground from the now passed winter
* Yoosung smiled and talked with you while you held hands
* His blush was as red as your infinity scarf
* The side walk fit you two perfectly
* But it was a little slick
* You had chuckled earlier but!
* It wasn’t until you both stepped on a patch of ice and fell onto each other and the sidewalk that you really laughed
* “O-oh! Mc I’m sorry I didn’t- are you laughing?”
* You couldn’t help it, his hair clips had half fallen out, your scarf was caught on his jacket zipper, and he looked so flustered and cute
* So there you were, half laying on top of him on an icy sidewalk, crying laughing
* It takes a moment before he starts cracking up laughing too
* He can’t stop himself from giving you a hug while you laugh
* He thinks your laugh is infectious and perfect
- You were sitting on the couch together watching Mulan cause why not??
- During the movie his phone kept buzzing
- Somehow, his number was tweeted out and he was getting so many texts and calls from everyone
- At first it was a little surprising
- BZZZT BZZZT
- “Zen you got a text”
- “I don’t know this number mc..”
- BZZZT BZZT BZZZT BZZT BZZZT
- “Pfft who keeps texting you?”
- BZZT BZZZT BZZZT
- “Oh my gosh I don’t know?! I KEEP GETTING NUDES FROM RANDOM NUMBERS”
- Then the movie was sounding
- ~LETS GET DOWN TO BUSINESS~
- “…. wait what”
- “ SOMEONE TWEETED MY NUMBER”
- BZZT BZZZT BZZT BZZT
- ~TO DEFEAT~
- At this point you were starting to hold your laugh
- BZZT BZZT
- “MC I KEEP GETTING DICK PICS!!”
- ~THE HUNS~
- You started with a giggle then moved to a belly laugh
- To him, the phone buzzing and the movie sounding was zoned out as he focused on your laugh
- He felt his heart swell and he smiled lovingly at you
- He thinks your laugh is beautiful
* You were sitting checking your phone while she was answering emails
* Her laptop dings with another notification
* “Mc I got this strange email.. can you check this.”
* “What is it Jahee?”
* “It’s a CGI frog?? Riding a unicycle I believe”
* You grinned like an idiot while you walked over to her laptop
* “Ah it’s just dat boi Jahee”
* “What boy?”
* “That’s the frogs name.”
* She looked at it for a moment
* “Is it an internet me-me”
* Once she said meme wrong you lost it
* You doubled over in laughter and laid breathless
* She laughed at your adorable laugh and helped you up
* “I know it’s meme Mc, I hear you and seven talk about them. I’m glad to hear your laugh though.”
* She placed a kiss on your cheek as you wiped a tear from your eye
* She thinks your laugh is unique
- We all know he’s got a little bit of a strange sense of humor
- But you love him anyway
- He heard your laugh while at the penthouse
- You two and the cat were all in the kitchen
- He was making pancakes for breakfast
- Good good man
- You feel your phone start to buzz and your ringtone turns on
- “It’s zen” you say as you put it on silent and stick it back in your pocket
- He chuckles a little at that
- He turned from the stove and looked at you stone faced
- “Oh hello I’m zen. Do you like my pony tail? Am I not too beautiful? *sigh* Jumin you need to stop being smart. Mc I’ll save you. God cursed me with these looks so I’m gonna complain to everyone in the chat.”
- You start cracking up laughing
- He smiles and chuckles at you
- Jumin walks up and wraps his arms around you contented
- “Mc, I can’t believe I have an angel with me.”
- You laugh and snort a little as he places a kiss on your head
- He thinks your laugh is angelic
* this boi is the joke king!!!
* How could you not laugh all the time with him???
* He’s heard you laugh a little over the phone and seen you on the camera, but never together
* He first experiences it when you two shared the apartment
* He was ignoring you so you went to the kitchen to get snacks
* But since you were lonely
* You were talking to yourself
* It started out quiet
* But because you are so extra
* You were talking to yourself louder
* He hears you speak “O hahah you think you’ll conquer the world”
* He pulls his head phones down and assumes your speaking to him
* “Mc I told you to let me- what?”
* When he turned around he didn’t see you
* So who are you talking to????
* He quickly and quietly walks to where your speaking is coming from.
* When he peeks inside the kitchen, he sees you talking and interacting with yourself
* You pick up a butter knife and point it at an imaginary villain
* “Knife to meat you, im-pasta. You’re not going to have a gouda time! Pfft c-cause *snort* I play C.O.D!!”
* You start laughing at your own stupid puns
* You fall onto the ground laughing and saying more puns
* “I’ve got a beef with you, spaghetti outta here you veal-ain”
* At this point saeyoung is holding his hands over his mouth while hidden in the door way
* You’re too cute
* He thinks your laugh needs to be protected
Ladybug eyes the motorcycle purring quietly away beneath Chat’s hands with doubt.
“When you said I was going to be entertained, this isn’t what I imagined,” she says, hands on her hips. Her eyes follow the blades of silver light running along the polished, black metal of the motorcycle’s solid frame, up to the point where Chat’s leather-clad leg bisects the view as he braces his feet against the ground. Her gaze travels up, instead, to the sleek leather of his tight pants, to the tailored, fitted cut of his bulletproof jacket.
The thing about leather is that it leaves little to the imagination- little, but just enough…
“Want to ride me?” Chat offers.
Ladybug can see the way her jaw drops open at the suggestion, reflected in the mirror-clean visor of Chat’s helmet. The visor slides up with a sharp click in the next second, revealing his green eyes, acid-bright in the night and comically wide in panic.
“Ride with me, with me,” he squeaks, voice cracking in his haste to correct himself. He coughs, and hurriedly adds, “It’s super safe, I promise.”
Except that Chat’s definition of safe is often way off base from her own. Ladybug still vividly remembers the one time he leaped off a building and landed on his moving motorcycle with a wild, exhilarated whoop that did not match the rush of sheer terror that jammed her heart up her throat at the time. She’s pretty sure he knocked off at least five years off her lifespan in that single moment.
Still, when his hand unfolds out toward her, she takes it without a second thought.
“Like flying, you said?”
“Hey, you’ve got your magical supersuit,” he laughs. “These are my wings.”
Ladybug can feel the moment she gives in as his eyes sparkle at her. She swings a leg over the motorcycle and settles in snugly behind Chat, wriggling until her front is pressed to his back. Her hands take their time ghosting up his hips and around his lean waist; even through the leather, she can feel his pulse quicken, can see when his breath hitches in his throat even as he slides his visor back down.
“Alright handsome boy,” she purrs into his ear, underscoring the heavy beat of his thundering heart. “Show me what you’ve got.”
The motorcycle stirs beneath them before awakening with a roar. Chat kicks off, and then only the wind catches Ladybug’s delighted shrieks as they race down the empty city streets.
Riding his motorcycle always fills Chat’s veins with adrenaline, but Ladybug’s exhilarated laughter and warm, possessive hold around him makes him feel positively electric. The city passes by them in flashes as they travel along the lightning of the moment.
“Enjoying yourself?” Chat yells back at her.
Her grip around him tightens, and the way her hands splay over his chest is not entirely necessary for her safety, but is utterly capable of producing a flush that shudders over his whole body.
“Definitely!” she yells against the wind, the teasing grin audible in her voice. “But if you wanted flying, then I can do one better.”
- - -
“This is falling,” Adrien argues. His helmet and motorcycle rest in a tucked away alleyway, safe from any curious passerby and woefully far from the high rooftop he and Ladybug stand on.
“You coming, chaton?” Her yoyo swings in lazy circles as she beckons him over to her with her free hand. He comes, irresistibly drawn to her like a magnet.
“My turn to show you how it’s done,” Ladybug laughs. Her yoyo snaps back to her hip before she turns around and offers her back, gesturing clearly for him to hop on.
He slowly steps right up behind her, savouring the way her muscles tense at his proximity. His breath ghosts along her neck, raising goosebumps, before he murmurs, “Ready?”
Before she can answer, he jumps up and wraps himself around her back, hooking his legs over her hips and slinging his arms over her shoulders. He laughs, a shit-eating grin on his face, as Ladybug curses and stumbles at the sudden weight. She quickly finds her balance again and straightens up, turning her head to the side so he can see the unimpressed look on her face. Mischief glitters bright in her the sky of her eyes though, betraying her amusement.
“Dirty trick,” Ladybug comments.
“Nothing dirty about it,” Adrien assures her with a wink. He chuckles against her neck as she turns to face the front again with a huff, a blush rising from the high collar of her suit. His hold around her tightens as she braces a hand under one of his legs and unhooks her yoyo from her hip with the other.
“Don’t scream,” she reminds him.
“Not a problem.” Then, as her yoyo begins spinning before them, he asks, “Do I even weigh anything to you?”
“Nah, it’s like holding a couple of grapes,” Ladybug laughs. Despite the levity of her answer, heat pools at the bottom of Adrien’s stomach as he marvels at her strength, at the way she effortlessly, easily holds him up. Before he can worry about the unexpected turn of his thoughts, her yoyo whips out, hooks onto a nearby rooftop, and launches them into the air, saving him from himself.
He’s watched her fly over the cityscape dozens, hundreds of times, through camera feeds he’s hacked into from his computer, and through the dark visor of his helmet when he rides out into the streets to help her. Ladybug is nothing but purposeful and sure in her every move, her every step. He’s seen it, over, and over, and over again.
But feeling it is something else entirely. Even with his added weight, she lands and leaps with total control, with an ease and confidence to be envied. They soar up into the clear night air, high enough until they seem like the only two people in the world with all the city laid before them.
The wind flying by on the long drop down claims Adrien’s wild, ecstatic whoop. When his eyes begin to water from the speed, he buries his head into the crook of Ladybug’s neck, laughter still spilling over in his giddiness.
“I still don’t know if I’d call this flying,” he says, his lips tracing her skin. He can feel her swallow as his words press on her neck, can feel the way she falters ever so slightly as she swings them both down to land on the solid ground of a rooftop. Emboldened, he gives a little nip, smiling at her quiet gasp, before humming, “It’s falling.”
Ladybug stills, her muscles tense, her breaths coming in quick and hot. That can be blamed on adrenaline and exertion- but not entirely.
Adrien murmurs, “I’m still falling.”
His steel-toed boots hit the ground and Ladybug turns on him like fire unleashed, grabbing his collar and pulling him down into a deep kiss that has him not flying, not falling, but floating and seeing stars. He wastes no time in winding his hands around her slim waist, his fingers tracing the curved red pattern of her suit.
“That was so cheesy,” Ladybug groans breathlessly as they break apart.
“It worked,” he grins as she pulls the zipper of his jacket down.
“If you’re free enough to talk, you’re free enough to make good on your promise to me earlier,” she reminds him, her hands diving beneath his jacket to trace hard muscle beneath the thin black turtleneck. Her fingers rake over his stomach and she grins as she feels him gasp at her touch.
Instead of coming onto her strong like she expects, Adrien lifts her chin up with a hand and captures her lips in a soft, slow kiss. The unexpected tenderness completely wipes her mind blank as she sinks into him, heat simmering low in her belly. His hand tangles into her hair and just as she begins to relax, he gives a sharp, authoritative tug, pulling a moan from her throat as her head rears back.
Ladybug’s hands bunch the bottom of his turtleneck up in frustration, but she gives as good as she gets as she hooks her fingers into his belt loops and pulls his hips flush against hers, startling a groan from Adrien.
Undeterred, his head dips down, lavishing attention onto whatever bare skin he can reach. He leaves a necklace of kisses and hickeys around her throat for her to wear. His grip on her hair tightens when she tries to lean forwards to kiss him again, leaving him free to take his time planting kisses along her cheeks, her forehead, the corners of her mouth, everywhere but where she wants it most.
He gets closer and closer then always denies her, until a frustrated whine finally escapes her.
With Ladybug’s short hair and long ribbons hopelessly tousled from his hands, her cheeks flushed a bright red, and her eyes burning fever bright in excitement and want, Adrien grins as he leans forward to purr into her ear.