AP Chem

Possessive! Miguel who's hands are always gripping your hips the slightest bit too tight, leaving bruises the size of his palms.

Possessive! Miguel who enjoys watching you squirm in his lap, keeping you secure with his large hands and staring daggers at any man who dares looking at you.

Possessive! Miguel who loves the startled look on your face as he pushes you against the wall, hips rutting into yours.

Possessive! Miguel who has you begging for any touch, asking (telling) you who you belong to. "Who do you belong to, mami?"

Possessive! Miguel who enjoys seeing your pathetic pout as he teases you, placing lingering touches that has your hips bucking into his rough hand. "Oh, mami, look at you... You're just begging for me to take you.."

Would anyone be interested in some House x reader x Wilson content??? I fear they're eating at my brain. House is whispering devious things through my ear and Wilson is doing nothing to stop him smh

it's your decision! Both will be updated evantually<33

Summary: Peter can't stand that little black dress Characters/Pairing: Peter x Fem!Reader Word Count: 470 Warnings: 18+ mdni!! female anatomy mentioned a couple of times, smut, MJ and Peter have split up A/N: Idk if anyone else needs him, but i need him

You had been Mayday's babysitter for a year now. In this year Mayday had become quite close to you.

Unknowing to you, so had Peter B Parker.

Lingering glances and touches sent your way only became obvious at the Christmas party Peter invited you to (one that MJ was holding). You weren't the babysitter that night as they had hired a second person to do your job.

You thought it was weird, but oh well, you got paid enough for what you did anyway.

Your outfit consisted of a black shimmering dress, slimming and extenuating in all the right places. You wanted to make a good impression, especially since you were just a babysitter to everyone there

you noticed just how long Peter's hand seemed to linger against your hip when other people were around

The way his fingers dug into your flesh, sending shivers down your spine in the most pleasurable way

In a way that left you wanting more

The whisper and touch of his soft breath against your neck had your knees weak, buckling under the pressure of his presence

His hands grip your thighs as he pushes you against the kitchen counter, hiding from the curious eyes of the party

"Stay quiet.. don't want them to know about our fun, do you?"

His words have you shuddering again, head rolling back against his shoulder as soft lips press against your pulse

You feel the slight drag of teeth and whimper

Peter is enjoying each little whine and squirm he's gifted with. Unbeknownst to you, he's been eyeing you all night long, desperate to gain your attention so he can whisk you away from the sight of people who claim to be so close to him

He drags you up the stairs, exchanging dirty words over hushed whispers

"Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me, baby.."

He has you pinned against a wall before you know it, hands exploring the supple skin underneath your clothes

Peter seems to seamlessly peel your panties off from under the dress, leaving you somewhat exposed as the black fabric scrunches at your hips

His fingers leave bruises in your hips that last for days. The red handprint on your ass didn't seem to disappear for a while either

Your moans and whimpers are music to his ears. It's hard to stay quiet when he's so adamant on lapping at your pretty cunt until his mouth is covered in your slick.

He has you in every position imaginable.

On your knees, fucking your face like there is no tomorrow, legs spread on the bed while your hands fist the sheets. Knees thrown over his shoulders as his tongue flicks against your clit.

All he wants is to please you...

And he does just that.

Your knees are sore the next morning and knuckles are still somewhat white from how hard you clenched the sheets

Your dress seems to be ruined, and you can't seem to find your panties anywhere

Peter greets you with coffee and a smile as if nothing happened, but you take note of that longing look in his eyes that shows he wants more than just one night.

Interacting with Spider-Woman (ft. Dating Gwen)

Warnings: fluff, angst, playful banter, fem reader, mention of death, SPOILERS

Your first interaction with the one and only Spider-Woman was when she popped in at your workplace. You were serving at the register and she just so happened to waltz in and order a honey infused tea.

You memorized her by the first three times you spoke to her and she had memorized every single freckle on your face

It's one of those scenarios where you know each other, but she hasn't necessarily told you about this alter ego of hers. Hell, she was dating you- although the relationship was fairly new (like a couple weeks)

As those weeks turned into months you began to notice just how often this Spider-Woman was coming to your work

In fact, she knew exactly when you finished work and had offered to walk you home multiple times

"you sure about that? I'm sure someone's getting robbed somewhere." You'd tease her

"I'm sure." She'd reply and under the mask would be that sweet smile that often made you swoon

She'd take you home so often that you were getting used to the fast swinging and 'thwip' of her webs

That was until it got stuck to your clothes and it took you weeks to wash it out

"Next time it sticks to my shirt, you're washing it." You'd huff in playful annoyance, "My mum was so mad when she saw it, thinks I'm in a gang or something."

Gwen would laugh so hard, practically snorting

"Oh, really? A gang, huh? Must be pretty cool being apart of the spider gang." She'd bump your shoulder, still walking you home after every shift

You don't remember ever telling you when your shift ends, it just seems like she always knew

Evantually you started to wonder about how many times Gwen would run off and Spider-Woman would rush in a few minutes after

You payed no mind to it for so long, but now things were making too much sense

You never asked, it didn't feel right to ask

If you ever did ask Gwen I think she'd be frightened. After what happened with Peter she saw to never make friends (let alone getting a partner), so she'd shut you down.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You bring up Peter

"You have no right to bring him into this! He has nothing to do with you and me or Spider-Woman!"

"You do, Gwen! I know now- You disappear and a few seconds later she comes running in! You're the only person who knows when my shifts end and she walks me home! It makes sense. Just humour me, please."

It ends in an argument, but you come back to apologize. You didn't necessarily mean to explode like that. She was right, you had no right to bring up Peter like you did. It wasn't fair

"You are right." She'd say, "But you have to understand that I have been hiding this from everyone.. I told Peter and you saw what happened." Her voice cracks and your hands meet hers

"I know.. I'm so sorry. It wasn't fair."

After forgiving and forgetting, you both still pretend to not know each other when meeting each other as Spider-Woman

However, that doesn't stop Gwen from sneaking in small kisses on the cheek when no one's looking

Sure, Next Time.

Summary: Hobie only comes to you after trouble Characters/Pairing: Hobie x GN!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Blood, injuries, dislocated finger, hurt/comfort A/N: Pls bear with me as I attempt his accent lmao

It didn't necessarily surprise you when Hobie accidentally let it slip that he was Spider-Punk. You could recognize the sticker abused guitar and stressed leather jacket anywhere. What did surprise you was the number of injuries he sustained and how easily he could hide them from you. If he had a limp his excuse was, "Tripped in my boots, luv." Any other injuries he used the excuse of having started a fight with some capitalist douchebag. And you believed it. It was only until he came back for you to patch him up after every battle that you began to truly let your anxiety feed into it.

Hobie had climbed through your window at 2am. The sun was nowhere to be seen, and the moon was shrouded in clouds. You had become a light sleeper as of late, the rise in crime getting on your nerves and preventing that precious rest you craved.

You woke up at the sound of those familiar heavy boots against your tiled floor. Squinting, you recognized the familiar shadow of a certain spider-man, or at least the shadow of the spikes on his head. "Hobie?" You reached to turn on your bedside lamp. Tired eyes squinted as the warm light enveloped the room. Your voice was scratchy from having been woken up at an ungodly hour. Your hair was all over the place, strands in front of your eyes and sticking out in ways that you didn't know it could. You thought this was a dream with how Hobie had frozen like a deer in headlights at the end of your bed.

Hobie thought he could just slip in and out, weaving his way to your bathroom and taking a couple of bandages for his trip home. He was wrong and now look at him. He had barely made it to your house in one place and there was no doubt that he was not making it back to his own. All his weight was on his left leg, he was using a web connected to your roof as leverage to keep him upright. You could see a dark stain seeping through his mask just above where you assumed his left eyebrow to be. You suspected there to be more than what you could see through his mask but would have to wait until you finally got him to the bathroom sink to find out.

The corners of his lips turned up as he watched you struggle to untangle your legs from the bedsheets. "Need some help, luv?" A shit eating grin adorned his face, but you couldn't see it. Even when he was injured, he still managed to make your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

You rolled your eyes. "I'm just fine." You huffed, finally finding the floor against your feet and taking steady steps towards the injured man. You didn't see him using your roof as leverage and silently cursed yourself for taking so long. "You better not pull out my roof with that web. Otherwise, you'll be the one dealing with my landlord." You huffed only half-joking. Humour seemed to be your coping mechanism. "Don't get all funny on me now, luv." He chuckled, sounding worn out and in pain. You helped him through your mediocre apartment, having draped his arm over your shoulders and letting him rest his weight against you as you walked (stumbled) to the bathroom.

With a slight huff through your nose and grunt that you wished was silent, Hobie was now sitting on your toilet, the lid shut. He was too tall when he sat on the sink (you found that out the first time he came over) and well, you didn't have much room up there to begin with. You crouched to the cupboard below your sink. In a Spider-Punk themed box (made by you to tease Hobie) was a consistent supply of bandages, disinfectant wipes, alcohol wipes, splints, etc. There was everything you could think of that someone would need when injured. You made this box not long after the first time Hobie came back with blood dripping from his forehead, and you didn't have anything to help. That night was filled with gentle apologies and worried glances.

"Can you take the mask off, Hobes?" You mumbled, having pulled the box onto the sink. You turned to watch him, tired eyes noticing just how he flinched when he moved his arms to push the mask over his head and tossing it to the floor. His hands were trembling, one of his fingers looking to be the slightest bit out of place. The cut above his eyebrow was bleeding profusely and it looked as if part of his piercing had been pulled on.

"'s not as bad as it looks." His hands gently moved to rest on your hips, eyes glancing towards the worried look on your face before moving to the roof. "Not as bad as it looks. Baby, you've probably got a concussion... No, you've definitely got a concussion." You mumbled, hands already digging into that spider-punk themed medicine box. You managed to pull out some baby wipes and a few alcohol wipes. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, heart thumping in your ears. Your hands came up to caress his face, taking a baby wipe to gently wipe the blood dripping down his face. There was a visible wince and a hiss of pain that came from the touch. Hobie's long fingers gripped the fabric of your pyjamas.

"I'm sorry, Hobie..." you muttered, trying to be as gentle and careful as possible. Once the cut was cleaned and a bandage was placed over it, it was time to move to his finger. "I'm even more sorry about this. We're gonna need to put it back in place, okay?" You were kind of glad you took that health course in high school now.

Hobie let out a groan, too tired to respond with words, but it was clear he was not looking forward to it. His hands released their grip on your hips and instead were placed in your palms. "Okay, we're gonna count to three and I'll put it back in. That good, baby?" You asked.

The suspense was killing Hobie, he was already in pain as it was. He's had dislocated digits before, so he understood the importance of getting the limb back in its socket as soon as possible, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it. He nodded. "Yeah, okay." He hummed in response. Except you didn't even count. You waited until he spoke up and quickly pushed the digit back into its socket, earning a muffled (still loud) groan of indescribable pain. "I'm sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry. It's over now." You apologized, wrapping his swollen wrist in a compression bandage. The tears brimming in his eyes and the sick pop of his finger had you feeling queasy. You felt your stomach flip and not in the usual happy way it did when Hobie was around. However, you pushed the feeling aside, hands resting on his cheeks as you leaned in to press a small kiss just to the left of his bandage.

"Let's get you to bed..."

After finally fixing up his injuries the two of you had found yourselves lying in bed. Hobie was next to you, one arm drapes over your stomach, the other resting under his head. His lips brushed against your cheek.

"I worry about you. About what you're doing." You spoke quietly, glancing back into his eyes for a moment. "I know it's for the greater good, but seeing you come home in the middle of the night half dead every day is- It's not nice." You rambled quietly before finally going silent.

He huffed through his nose, although it wasn't angry. "I know, luv. Gonna give you a heart attack one day." he joked, pressing his lips to your temple. "I love you." The words came out quiet, barely leaving his lips before you turned to face him.

"I love you too, Hobes. But next time you get a dislocated finger just go to a doctor. I literally felt sick from that." You mentioned, earning a small nod and a deep chuckle.

"Sure... next time." He mumbled in response, closing his eyes and wrapping his arm around you securely. There was no need to worry about the outside world as long as you were in his arms.

this isnt an ask, but i just wanted to let you know i love your work SO MUCH like tis just SFOSHERIGURSIUGBESRILBGSLERI

Omg pls this is so sweet!! Making me motivated to finish the 35 drafts I have fr!!! You're actually so sweet anon <33 kicking my feet and squealing!!!

Runway Model

Summary: Hobie was surprised when you asked him to model some of your own designs, but he was not going to pass up on the occasion. Characters/Pairings: Hobie x GN!Reader Word Count: 276 Warnings: minor mention of blood, fluff

Both of you were half asleep. Hobie's arm was drapes across your stomach, head resting into the crook of your neck when the words slipped past your lips.

"You should try my designs.. I mean, they're not too different from your style and I think they should fit.." you rambled. God, he loved it when you rambled. He'd silence you with a soft kiss to the neck, the cool metal of his lip ring sending soft shudders down your spine. He could practically hear your racing heart beat.

"would luv to, babes." He'd reply, that knowing grin on his face at the slight flutter within your chest.

The next morning comes with the smell of coffee and bleeding fingers. Perhaps caffeine and sewing needles wasn't a good combination at 6am? The only reason you were up was because you couldn't sleep to begin with.

By the time it was 7am the outfit, still half done but at least fitted to Hobie's height, was showing progress. And by the time it was complete, Hobie was amazed.

There was something about the fact that your literal blood, sweat and tears having been put into this singular outfit impressed him. It was probably the dedication that came with it. He tried it on as soon as possible.

Although he was stoic, he also had a knack for jokes. He'd strut down your shared hallway, flashing poses and mischievous grins that would entice giggles from your throat. It had his own stomach fluttering.

Hobie Brown would do anything for you.

Origin || Part 2

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The little black box that rested in your palm left you intrigued. Tracing the intricate carvings of gold-stained wood your mind wandered to how it ended up on the floor in the first place. You didn't notice the old man dropping it earlier, yet he was your only suspect. Maybe it would have that old man's number engraved on it? You couldn't be completely sure until you opened it.

Shaking those thoughts away you mustered the courage to open it, as much as you wished to return it to its rightful owner, something else was selfishly drawing you closer. A soft white glow emitted from the case as a gold necklace with what seemed to be an angelate pendant rested on a cream cushion. What you were yet to notice was the small creature floating right behind the open box. Your fingers caressed the gem, it had always been one of your favourites due to the gentle shimmer it held compared to the harsh contrast of an opal or chrysocolla. You had a vast knowledge in gemstones.

Your eyes flickered upward at movement, only to widen. You gasped and took a step back. You didn't scream or speak as the floating blue and tan bunny stared you in the eyes. With a sweet smile they opened their mouth to speak. "Good afternoon! I'm Cece." The creature flew close to your cheek, almost expecting a warm welcome despite your shocked expression.

"What the fuck— I have to be high." You muttered, placing the opened box down and immediately rubbing your eyes. You did take your medication earlier, but hallucinations weren't a side effect that you were aware of.

"Oh, dear! You aren't high, or I hope you aren't... Miraculous owners are supposed to be well behaved." The bunny spoke once again, taking that small floating hop backwards to regain some space between you. Your eyes widened once again. Miraculous... You'd heard that word before watching a live video of Ladybug and Chat Noir. They referred to their jewellery as Miraculous', but there was no way that was what this necklace was. No. It had to be a prop, a stupid prank even from a random Parisian who just wanted to cause trouble to the foreigner. "Are you alright?" The petite voice spoke up once again, its large eyes staring curiously into your own, yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak.

Finally gathering the courage to make your presence one of relevance, you nodded. "I am... okay. You said 'miraculous holder'... Right?" Your voice was hesitant, nervous even as you swallowed down the nausea and word vomit that the anxiety of the situation pushed upon you. As the creature went to speak again, you interrupted them, earning a small frown. "Because I can't be a miraculous holder. I can barely walk up the stairs on a good day and on a bad day I'm bedridden. I can't save anyone if I can't save myself—" Your words were full of sincerity and truth, showcasing your true worry to complete a job that you weren't even sure was meant to be for you. It had to be some form of mistake. Your face, full of worry simply expressed your concern for everyone else, a prominent frown on your face while your hands gestured while you spoke.

"Calm down," the small being smiled, a soft paw caressing your shoulder, "You were chosen not for your physical ability but your use of sympathy and empathy for others. If you choose to be the holder of the bunny miraculous, all you have to say is 'Cece, let's bounce'."  Cece understood the weight of the decision; it was one she had witnessed over the course of thousands of years. Each one of her holders had their own select difficulties that held them back from accepting at first, but each one always found their way back.

You swallowed hard, the decision weighing on your shoulders. "I don't know. How is this real?" You muttered rhetorically before turning to sit at your desk, spinning so you were facing away from Cece. The idea of becoming a hero was fascinating and thrilling, but what would happen if you couldn't save someone in time because of your own inability to do things? Dwelling on the thought for a few moments, you took your time before turning back to Cece. Maybe this would be worth it, give you a reason to look forward to the day rather than see it as a hindrance. Cece's ears flopped against her face as she tilted her head. A gentle smile flashed across her small face as she watched you turn around. "You are the chosen one, brace it." The way she spoke your name made you smile, filling you with a comfort and the assurance that you certainly needed in that moment. She trusted you and hoped that you would do the same.

Letting out a shaky breath and offering a small nod. You stood up and reached to the small stool that you'd left the miraculous box on, carefully pulling the gold necklace from its resting place before placing it around your neck. It was lightweight and simple, matching your own style yet bringing more personality. "Cece, let's bounce," you flashed a small smile towards the creature, watching with slight fright as it was absorbed into the necklace. Five swirls surrounding a white dot appeared on the centre of the necklace, indicating the amount of time you would have before turning back after using your special ability.

Blue and tan wrapped enveloped your body, a suit that was adorned in white swirls and golden accents appeared against your warm skin. Your hands moved across your eyes as a blue and gold mask concealing your identity spread across your face before a small staff-like object fell into your gloved hands. You recognised it to be similar to Chat Noir's staff, one that you'd only seen in videos but paid close enough attention to recognise the few buttons that made the staff extend. However, your staff didn't extend as much as his. When you pressed the button, it extended to double its length, with a curved blade on one side. The other came to a sharp point, decorated with angelate jewels and iridescent swirls, it was both beautiful and dangerous.

Looking in the mirror you were amazed at the way the suit morphed to fit your body. You no longer looked like the weak little kid your parents envisioned you as. Your hair was pulled into two low buns, your natural colour being hidden through baby blue and white highlights that matched the pale rabbit ears pinned into your hair. It was an odd sensation at first, watching as they flopped each time you moved your head from side to side, but eventually it became rather fun.  An immense pressure had been lifted off your shoulders, the weight of your suit feeling non-existent compared to the overwhelming empowerment it gave you. 

No longer feeling like a little kid, overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion 24/7, you decided it was time to explore. You had arrived in Paris almost over a month ago and you were still yet to truly discover the extent that the city had to offer you. You'd always wanted to try Andre's ice cream, so perhaps that would be your plan for this afternoon, not necessarily taking the moment to realise that you may look like an akumatised villan stalking around in your costume.

~~~

Launching yourself from roof to roof with the assistance of your staff, you relished in the light feeling of your body. Nothing hurt anymore. In some ways this unexpected opportunity was becoming much more appealing than your everyday suffering. Landing on a tiled roof, you momentarily close your eyes. The sun provided you with it's warmth, reflecting off the white swirls that decorated your suit and illuminating you in golden light. There was something so oddly satisfying about witnessing the glow of those white swirls.

Your ears twitched, standing up straight as the heavy thump of multiple footsteps fell behind you. There was no moment to react as leather clad hands grabbed you, pushing you down against the concrete tiles. You hissed in pain, hearing your own attacker grunt as you both landed uncomfortably. You went to speak, only to be immediately cut off by a vaguely familiar voice.

"Who are you?"

It was stern and commanding, lacking the usual humanity it held towards regular civilians. You recognised it to be the voice of the leather clad heroine, Chat Noir. Your wide eyes studied his face, your lips not moving to answer as you attempted to analyse the harsh expression the young man held. Eventually you spoke up, his rough hands shoving your shoulders slightly deeper into the concrete. You flinched, this was going to bruise later. "I am the holder of the bunny Miraculous." You spoke, trying your hardest to keep a brave face, "I understand that seeing a new face might make you antsy."

Perhaps your choice of wording wasn't the best, feeling the claws of Chat Noir's suit digging into your shoulders. You expected him to puncture the baby blue fabric of your suit, but a certain red and black yo-yo pulled him back. The bug themed hero placed her hand on his shoulder, their conversation falling on deaf ears. All you noticed was the disappointed tone of her voice and the apologetic glance Ladybug offered you. Slowly sitting up, you rubbed your right shoulder.

In the blink of an eye, the young woman was walking towards you. Each move of hers was decisive and cautious of you. "I was told that you would be joining us soon." The hero flashed a friendly smile at you, "But I suppose my dear friend here didn't quite catch that message, did you, Chat?" Ladybug glared at him, watching as the corner of his lips turned downward. You noticed the way he took her words and felt your own frown forming.

She held a hand out to you and you cautiously took it. While you trusted Ladybug, that interaction with Chat Noir had left you a little bit on edge.

"What's your name?" Your thoughts were interrupted as the bluenette held her hand out for you to take. You smiled slowly and carefully placed your own gloved hand in hers, letting her help you up as her feline friend stood there with his arms crossed. He held a defence position, the scowl on his face never leaving.

"Thank you." You smiled with gratitude, watching as she returned it. Thinking on her question, you simply shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'm still trying to decide." You hummed nonchalantly. It was as if Chat Noir's horrid introduction didn't bother you anymore, although on the inside you felt horribly shaken up by the whole ordeal. You wouldn't want them to think that you might have been weak, or an accessory to Shadow Moth's master plans. This newfound ability to express your feelings more clearly through words made you feel somewhat calmer after the feline hero's attack. 

Chat Noir stood a step behind Ladybug, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't trust you. Something had to be off, surely Ladybug would have told him there was a new hero being thrown into the mix. He scowled at the thought and his frown deepened as he watched the friendly interactions play out before him. This wasn't fair. None of this was fair. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. He shouldn't be thinking like this, there was no point in dwelling on the moment just in case he was to fall victim to an akuma. The blonde boy noticed your hand brushing against the young woman's shoulder, watching intensely as you steadied yourself once again. Little did he know, this was the first time you had properly distributed your weight across both legs. And God, did it feel perfect.  

He was yet to notice the way you turned to face him, eyes running from his leather ears to those emerald eyes of his. Offering a friendly smile and a hand, you spoke once again. "Maybe we can start over," you began, "I wouldn't want to get off on the wrong foot with you, Chat." You hummed. He tensed and inhaled sharply; his eyes flickered from your smile to your hand. "Whatever..." He finally exhaled with a huff, lazily pulling his arms down and finally shaking your hand. He pulled your arm, forcing you to lean in close as he began to whisper into your ear. "This doesn't mean we're friends. Got it?" he hissed. Your shoulders tensed. 

"I understand..." 

Word Count - 2111

Understanding

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

It's been at least a month since you began fighting beside Ladybug and Chat Noir. You'd learnt that a certain cat themed heroine had grown a strong distaste for you, more so a distaste for the attention you received from Ladybug. The red and black heroine had been rather intrigued on how you received such a miraculous, let alone a second bunny miraculous. With the power of Bunnyx being so strong, it was no surprise that Ladybug was paying more attention to yourself than to her own partner. Your miraculous, powered by a sweet kwami that went by the name of Cece, held the ability of healing. While it was only temporary, lasting up until Ladybug used her 'miraculous Ladybug' to fix the damage created during battle, it became useful rather quickly. 

 It didn't matter much whether the boy liked you or hated you. All you truly cared about in that moment was the freedom your miraculous blessed you with, a world where the pain of everyday life evaporated into nothing. With the use of your miraculous came wonderful side effects, a temporary relief to the chronic pain within your knee and sudden bursts of energy that battled the chronic fatigue you felt due to the mental exhaustion of your own pain. However, it wasn't until recently that you'd felt the more painful side affects. Each time you used the miraculous, your body ached afterwards, exhaustion plaguing you.

You sat on the edge of a building; a cool breeze surrounded you as your feet swung over the side of the tiled roof. When Ladybug had requested for you to cover the patrol with Chat Noir that night you accepted with a grateful smile. Any chance to escape from the exhaustion and constant pain was a good one, whether it meant simply patrolling or actually saving the citizens of Paris. The soft jingle of a bell brought a smile to your face, the corners of your lips turning up in a content way. "Funny running into you here." You joked softly, just loud enough for the feline heroine to hear as you angled your face towards the setting sun. Hues of orange and salmon illuminated off the pale blues and browns of your suit, as if you were the sky they belonged in. 

You turned to face him, finally opening your eyes fast enough to catch the blonde boy leaning on his staff. While he had a slight smile on his face himself, there was still that look of envy within his eyes. He shrugged, not taking your words as a very friendly invitation. "Yeah, I guess so," He huffed through his nostrils, studying each movement you made as you stood up from your placement on the edge of the roof, "Ladybug's idea of patrolling with the new kid so you don't get into any trouble." 

Your eyes widened, almost taking his words as insult before simply shaking your head. Soft brown ears flopped into your eyes before framing your face as you made eye contact with him. Chat avoided your gaze. "You don't have to do this, Chat Noir," you began with a hum, "Ladybug needs us to get along, you know that, but you don't want to try." Your words were full of sincerity and comfort, emphasising the reason you were gifted with the second bunny miraculous. You always had what seemed to be a never-ending amount of empathy and compassion to give, perhaps leftovers from the overwhelming amount you received from your parents and close friends. 

He grumbled slightly at your words, understanding that you were right. He didn't want to try, he knew how this would end. Ladybug would forget him once again as she dealt with another new miraculous holder. Fiddling with his staff, he spoke up, "That's not true. I just-" He lied, grumbling again as he let out another frustrated huff. His hair fell in front of his eyes, another refusal to even look in your general direction. 

You shrugged. "It's okay if you don't like me, I never said we have to be friends. All I am saying is that maybe you should take the chance you have to work with me tonight," You looked up at him, taking note of the few inches taller he was, "We might have better chemistry than you believe." Standing a few steps apart you held out your hand for him to take. "A truce." You offered. He squinted at your hand before looking back up at you, studying the playful glint to in your eyes. "Fine, a truce... but just for tonight." He agreed, looking down at his own hand, holding your somewhat smaller one. He had never noticed just how frail they seemed to be. The blonde retracted his hand quickly, placing it by his side as he avoided your gaze once again. Something about those gentle eyes had his skin prickling. 

A small smirk flickered across your face as you watched the way his hand retracted back to his staff. You had expected it, much like anyone would with the way the young man avoided her like the plague. "Don't worry kitty, I don't bite." You teased in a playful manner, watching his eyes widen momentarily. You studied the stern look on his face, watching as his scowl slowly turned into that iconic feline grin of his. He leaned his hands on the top of his staff, his ears flopping with his head as he moved to rest it on top of his palms. "I can't promise the same." He stood up straight and began to walk backwards, letting his staff extend before using it as leverage to launch to the next rooftop.

You watched as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, never looking back once to see if you followed. Sighing, you shook your head. He was a naïve boy, troubled even. While you understood the reasoning for his distaste, you found it somewhat childish, not recognising the true story behind his longing to be needed by Ladybug. In fact, you had no idea on who this boy could be, whether he was bound to end up in your life outside of the masks or if he would remain a mystery for the rest of your life. Either way, you would take life as it came at you, counting each day as a blessing considering the detrimental damage your body was receiving from itself. 

~~~

Two weeks had passed, and it was now just another Monday morning. You felt better than usual, your constant fatigue diminished from the restful sleep you obtained that night. With no recent akumas to deal with, you felt rather at peace with yourself and everyone else. To clarify, almost everyone else.  Chat Noir was still on your radar of people to be aware of, even if he was a hero. While you knew his intentions were just to become the main figure in Ladybug's attention, it bugged you that he wouldn't let you prove yourself. Constantly dismissed as the 'new girl' with 'zero experience in crime fighting' had your opinion of the feline heroine slowly turning negative.  

You found that your mind was often caught on Chat Noir as you continued to dress yourself for school, shaking them away each time they arrived. You slid the tan knee brace up your calf, letting it tightly embrace your right knee to hold it together just that little bit better. While your chronic fatigue had lessened with the help of Cece's magic, it was evident that the overexertion of the miraculous had your limbs feeling weaker after every de-transformation. Attempting not to worry your parents any more than they already were, and friends who were now across the other side of the world due to you moving, you kept your pain and weakness a complete secret. There would be signs, the way that your head was constantly resting against your desk, the clicking noises from each step you took and the actual use of pain management even when you were always so adamant that you could tough it out. 

It wasn't long until you finally made it to College Francoise Dupont. Most students assumed you were a part of an exchange program, when in reality there was simply better healthcare and accessible opportunities for you in Paris. Although you missed your home country and the friends you used to have, you were beginning to find this school becoming more like a home. However, the front steps of the school would never feel that  comforting. With each step you took, you heard and felt the rough click of your right knee. It was overwhelming enough that you didn't notice the soft hum of your name coming from behind you. 

A warm palm brushed over your shoulder, causing you to flinch out of fright. The blonde boy held his hands up, stopping just behind you, watching as you turned to look down at him. "It's just me, don't worry." Adrien spoke gently, looking worried by your reaction. He'd always been rather worried for his friends, and considering you were his newest of the bunch you were his main concern. 

You and Adrien had grown rather close since you started class with him. Bonding over your sheltered lives, although his was much more sheltered, it made you both feel less lonely than you usually would. He had even introduced you to a few of the other students in your class, such as the ones who made up the band 'Kitty Section'. You were still yet to see them play, but you were sure they would be wonderful. 

A sigh slipped past your lips before they turned up in a small smile. "Sorry, I was lost in my head." You were completely honest, although the wavering tone in your voice left some underlying feeling of exhaustion seeping through. Your morning had been doing so well before it came to battling these stairs. 

Adrien was an observant boy. He had watched you when you arrived most days, taking clear note of the way you struggled with those stairs. He extended his hand, offering his palm facing upward as a chance for you to gain that little bit of ease in leaning your weight on him. You were tentative and hesitant as you stared at his soft, yet strong palm. Help wasn't something you were used to, not without the words of, 'don't worry, this will get better'. While those words used to be a symbol of hope, they had slowly turned into the sour realisation that nothing was going to change for the better. At first you went to decline before glancing up at the soft expression on his face. Those emerald eyes stared up at you with nothing but concern and compassion. There was absolutely no pity behind them.

"Thank you," You flashed a gentle smile, placing your hand in his. You didn't accept help often, but when you did it was simply because you knew there was no point in suffering any longer. He pulled your arm across his shoulders, letting you bear your weight into him as you climbed to the stop of the steps together in silence. Your friendship was built off of the mutual respect you had for each other. The two of you were much more similar than you would ever choose to believe. 

Adrien held you close to his side, not minding the intimacy of the quiet moment as he helped you up the stairs. He wasn't one to typically be this quiet, but he knew you well enough by now to understand that you weren't necessarily up to talking when your body felt like it was eating away at its own muscle tissue. "You really need to take better care of yourself," the way he hummed your name made your knees feel the slightest bit weaker although you would never properly admit it. You could easily remove the connection of him being a model, however you could never deny that the sweet upturn of his lips made your stomach flutter. You believed it was nothing, taking it as a reaction to how he was naturally attractive compared to the average seventeen-year-old. Shaking away those silly thoughts your mind went back to his words. Your brows furrowed and you paused in your spot, coming to a standstill. "Excuse me?" You turned to face him, "I take care of myself plenty. This school is hardly accessible. Despite all the money it hoards for sports and the arts, there are no means to add elevators or ramps. There isn't even a disabled bathroom!" You couldn't help the frustrated ramble, taking offense from his innocent words. 

Immediately Adrien raised his hands in mock surrender, once again taking note of how his sheltered life had let him down once again. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear." He admitted, his emerald eyes revealing a sorry look as he brought his hands back to clutch the strap of his duffel bag. He cleared his throat under your stern gaze, "I just mean... You look tired. More than usual." His attempt at rescuing his words failed as he watched your frown deepen. He silently cursed, wanting to reach out for your hand as you began to walk away, shaking your head in frustration. Patience was a virtue, and sometimes you needed a reminder of it. However, that reminder didn't seem to be coming anytime soon as you forgot just how sheltered your friend had been up until the start of this year. With no friends and hardly any outside interactions unless it was with a private tutor or photographer, Adrien stood rather new to friendship. Yet, his willingness to learn was what set him apart from everyone else. He took note to attempt to discuss with his father the lack of accessibility within the school, hoping that maybe it would spark his attention. If he could gain the influence of his father on the principal, then he could relieve some of your everyday struggles. 

It was a quick walk to the classroom. Once you were inside you made your way towards a desk at the front. It was originally assigned to Nino, but after the teachers were informed of the damage within your limbs, they insisted that you were seated at the front no matter how much you objected to the suggestion. Your eyes flickered up at the sound of the door opening and closing behind someone. Multiple footsteps could be heard as students began to pile into their seats, the most noticeable being the blonde boy making his way to sit beside you and the bluenette and her brunette best friend that sat directly behind you. You flashed the two girls a friendly smile, while you weren't close you still cherished the small friendship you shared. 

You mumbled your good mornings to each other before finally turning your attention to Miss Bustier, one of the sweetest teachers you had ever had. There was never a moment where she wasn't willing to give her all for her students. Anyone could see just how much the woman loved her job and her students. Listening to the history lesson had your head aching. French wasn't your first language, and it took some time for you to process what people were saying.  So, instead of paying attention, you gently nudged the blonde boy beside you. His brows lifted and he turned to face you with a look of slight shock. "Yes?" he hummed quietly, trying to avoid being caught whispering during class. 

"Could I copy your notes later?" You asked, "Please." The tired look on your face was enough to convince him already. Not waiting for his answer, you simply rested your head against the cool wood of the desk. There was a note in your student file that stated you were to be left alone if you fell asleep. Your parents cared greatly for you, so there was no surprise that they were willing to advocate for your rest to become priority over your education. 

Adrien nodded, taking a glance at his own paper to see nothing but small notes of the lesson and scribbles of who the new heroine could be. They weren't necessarily new anymore. It had been just over a month since their first public appearance with the miraculous duo, yet he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. He'd worked with plenty of other people who had access to a miraculous such as Rena Rouge and Carapace, but their positions were always temporary. However, Clementine wasn't temporary. Ladybug never gifted them their miraculous. He groaned at the thought and scribbled out his words, turning his focus back to the lesson. 

What neither of them noticed was the two girls glaring at you. Their eyes pierced holes through your back as you rested. While the bluenette was simply jealous, wishing she could talk to Adrien in the same carefree way that you could, the blonde sitting across the room was fuming. In her mind, this was some act to steal her childhood friend from her. She sat their silently, scrolling through her phone to devise a plan of revenge upon you. 

Word Count - 2865