#technically off topic but i think its funny and its still from the same flash game

[ecbsffharpc]

[p-artsypants]

Bad Day (1) Morning

Marinette was Ladybug! This was Adrien’s luckiest day ever! Except it wasn’t, because all his good luck was used up in one go. Turns out this might be the worst day of his life.

Ao3 | FF.net

Part 2

I’m still working on Longest Night. This was just supposed to be a one shot, but it got out of hand. There should only be three chapters. Crack, Angst, Fluff, in that order. 

Also, this story is super gross. Because 14-year-old boys are super gross. 

--

“Pound it!” Ladybug and Chat connected fists after a job well done.

His ring beeped right on schedule, having used his cataclysm earlier than she had used Lucky Charm.

“Go ahead, I’ll take care of the victim.” She smiled so politely and rested a hand on his arm.

He nearly swooned.

“Go!” She chided with a laugh.

He blew her a kiss as he departed. It was an early morning, just before school. Early enough that classes probably wouldn’t be cancelled. The akuma had been a quick run, though the time he had intended to use for studying in the library was gobbled up instead. Oh well. That was the whole point of studying, staying ahead so when the akumas overwhelmed him, his grades didn’t suffer.

The courtyard was still relatively empty, as there was still a good twenty minutes before classes started.

He rushed to the bathroom, keeping a careful eye on the students, though no one noticed he was there.

He took the first stall, and his transformation fell just as he cleared the door.

Plagg fell in his hands, immediately begging for cheese.

Adrien laughed and gave him a little wedge. “There, I have more in my bag, but I have to go while we’re here.”

“Go? Go where?”

“You know…go.” He gestured to the toilet. “It’s poo-thirty.”

“Aw man,” Plagg whined. “Couldn’t you hold it until we got home so I can leave the room?”

“Don’t be such a baby.” Adrien chastised, dropping Plagg in his pocket. He undid his buttons, dropped trou, and let nature take its course. Aimlessly, he scrolled through the Ladyblog on his phone while he did his business.

Then he noticed that the door was slightly cracked open.

“Oh narts, this the stall with the bad lock.” He sighed. Reaching his leg out, he toed the door, having it hit the jam and rebound back, opening wider. Adrien groaned, “Plagg, can you—“

“Nuh uh. I’m not coming out until you’re done with your disgusting human behavior.”

Adrien rolled his eyes at his ridiculous kwami. Oh well. It was still early, and he’d be done in a minute. Surely it was no big deal?

Except someone was running towards the bathroom.

And then running to his stall.

Into his stall, with their back to him.

A gorgeous back, with an adorable butt, covered in red and black, and hiding. Then, there was a flash of pink, and the red and black gave way to a dark gray jacket and soft pink pants. An outfit he had seen nearly everyday.

He choked on air, wanting to say something, and also very aware of the fact that his pants and boxers were around his ankles.

Not how he imagined the reveal would go down at all.

So he simply held his breath, vying his time.

She didn’t wait long, only a couple seconds really, it had just felt like an hour being in that space with her. As she left, he made eye contact with her kwami.

She saw. She saw that he saw.

Then he was alone again, his eyes staring forward, unseeing.

Marinette.

Marinette was Ladybug.

Beautiful, sweet, kind, and righteous Marinette was his Ladybug. Of course she was! It made perfect sense! They had the same eyes, the same black hair that shined blue in the light! The same laugh! Oh it was perfect!

It was—

Oh no.

He had to tell her. But she HATED the idea of him knowing her identity! Hated anyone knowing!

Why did it have to happen while he was on the can?

How was he supposed to explain this without completely embarrassing both of them? It was completely unfair!

“Sorry Marinette I saw you detransforming while I was dropping off the Cosby kids at the pool, sorry!” Like that was a good option!

But then again, he was finding it too hard to be upset about it when the truth of ‘Marinette is Ladybug’ reverberated in his head.

They’d work it out. Somehow. But now he just had to get through the day without melting into goo around her.

Maybe he’d turn on the Chat Noir charm.

No, that’d be too suspicious.

“Are you gonna poop or what?” Asked Plagg.

Adrien scoffed at him.

Then his kwami chuckled, lowly, manically.

“What are you up to, you little creature?”

“Oh, I’m not up to anything. I just had…a premonition, if you will.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Do you feel lucky?”

“What kind of question is that?  Uh…I mean, I just found out who the love of my life is, so…yeah?”

“The luckiest you’ve ever been?”

“Yeah, in a way.”

“That’s what I thought.” Plagg snickered again.

“What?”

“Oh nothing…really. Just that…I have a feeling you used up all your good luck for the day.”

“What? Is that a thing?”

“Just hurry up and finish. Nasty boy.”

Rolling his eyes at his kwami, Adrien finished his business. Afterwards, he left his stall just as Kim came in.

“Yo!”

“Howdy!”

Kim took his stall, and Adrien went to wash his hands.

“Holy shit!” Kim shouted.

A bad feeling settled in Adrien’s stomach. Did I forget to flush?

Ah, it was probably no big deal.

He finished up, and went into the locker room, where Nino was putting his stuff away.

“Hey man,” Adrien greeted pleasantly.

“Sup dude! If I had known you’d be early, I would have waited out front for you.”

“Oh no, no worries. I’ve been here for a while. Needed to use the library.” That had been the initial plan, before the Akuma had struck. So not a complete lie.

“For the essay?”

“Yep.”

“I haven’t even started, dude. I mean, I have a topic idea but..” Nino went on, but Adrien’s mind had begun to wander.

Back to Marinette.

His lady.

His bugaboo.

He giggled.

Nino frowned at him. “Dude, what’s so funny about the holocaust?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “No no I wasn’t—no, sorry. I was listening! But I was also thinking...uh, so you’re doing your essay on the holocaust?”

“Well, I’m thinking of doing a comparative piece between the holocaust and...”

And he was off again.

Not that he didn’t love Nino immensely, but this was the biggest revelation of his life! He wasn’t going to pay any attention to anything for the rest of the day.

Oh how badly he wanted to sit behind Marinette, so he could stare at her all day.

A little creepy, but cut him some slack.

“…it’s not really comparing the Holocaust to country music, but it’s finding similar themes, you know? Is that the dumbest idea you’ve heard?”

“Yeah…” Adrien said with a pleasant smile on his face.

“Yeah? My idea is dumb?”

“Sure is.”

“Well…thanks for that, I guess.”

“Hmm mmm…say Nino, is Marinette interested in anyone?”

Nino blinked a few times. “What?”

“I just thought you might know, since you’re dating Alya and all.”

Nino snickered. “Oh, I see what this is about. Finally got your head out of your ass, huh?”

Adrien blinked heavily at him. “W-what?”

“Oh come on. Everyone can see when you give her your patented ‘soft eyes’.”

“My what?”

“You know, you get this dopey smile on your face, and then your eyebrows turn up and your eyes get all misty, and then you look like you’re going to cry.”

“What! I do not do that!”

“There was a spider on Rose’s desk, and Marinette gently scooped it up and put it outside, even though she’s scared of spiders too.”

Adrien’s heart melted. “Aw, she did?”

Nino snapped a picture on his phone. “Bam, heart eyes.”

Adrien narrowed those heart eyes into slits. “What’s your game, Lahiffe?”

“You’re in love with Marinette.”

Adrien blinked. “Yeah, I was getting to that.”  

Nino gawked. “You-you were!? You are!?”

“Yeah, I mean…I just realized it today. I thought I was in love with someone else, but…” Technically, he still was, but knowing that Ladybug was Marinette only made his feelings stronger and feel more solid.

Marinette was Ladybug!

Adrien then realized Nino was giving him a knowing look. “You’ve got it bad, dude.” He chuckled.

Adrien huffed and crossed his arms. “Well, are you going to tell me who she likes, or what?”

It was then that Kim came out of the bathroom, and made hard eye contact with Adrien. “I see you there. It’s on, Agreste.”

“What’s on?”

“You know Le Chien Kim doesn’t back down from a challenge!”

“What challenge?!”

“As if you didn’t know!”

“I don’t know!”

Kim just gave a smirk and walked out of the room.

“Uh, what the hell was that?” Asked Nino.

“You’re guess is as good as mine with Kim.”

“Fair.”

“So anyways...Marinette? Her crush? Help a guy out?”

Nino rolled his eyes. “Look dude, if I tell you, I’m dead meat, per Alya. But, you should absolutely ask her out. She won’t say no.”

“...is it me then? Does she like me?”

“Again, I’m a dead man. But her fondness for you surpasses ‘friendship’, ya dig?”

His lady liked him! She liked Adrien!

“God, you make me sick.” Nino chuckled. “You make sure to turn those soft eyes on Marinette. She’ll turn to goo.”

“Noted!” Adrien beamed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go woo Milady.”

“Christ.”

Adrien haughtily tossed a smirk over his shoulder, and then turned to rush out of the room.

Only, Plagg’s premonition would come true. With a vengeance.

In one step, his shoelace broke and he stepped completely out of his sneaker. With the momentum he created in takeoff, he launched several steps until he collided his pinkie toe with the corner of the lockers.

Oh mama.

He was down.  

Clutching his foot like his life depended on it, Adrien dropped to the floor and let out a string of curses that would make Chat Noir blush.

“Oof, dude, you okay?”

Adrien couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying.

But oh, did it suck.

“Let’s go to the nurse.”

“No.” Adrien wheezed out. “I’m good.”

“Like hell you are.”

“If I go to the nurse, she’ll call my dad, and he’ll pull me out of school for being in an unsafe environment. I’m fine!”

Though the tears streaming down his cheeks did not have Nino convinced. “Whatever dude. Let me help you get to class though, kay?”

Nodding through the pain, Adrien took the offered hand, and together they tottered to homeroom.

As they approached the room, they could hear Kim talking. Everyone in the school could hear him, he was so enthused.

“No, you guys don’t understand! It had to be at least two feet! The thickness of my arm! This thing was massive!”

Nino snickered, “What, did he take up fishing?”

“That’s not physically possible.” Said Alix, just as loud.

“Oh yeah? I took a picture! Look!”

There was a collective shout of ‘ew! Kim!’ from the class, when Adrien and Nino finally reached the door.

Everyone went silent.

Dead silent.

Adrien’s gaze drew immediately to Marinette—His Lady—only to see her avoiding his gaze, with a very red face.

Then he noticed that everyone was staring right at him.

“Uh…good morning?” He detached himself from Nino and used the desk to get to his seat.

Alix stood, and just started clapping.

This caused some of the others to start laughing.

“Uh…what’s going on?”

“Tch, like you don’t know.” Said Kim, in a way that inexplicably reminded him of an anime villain.

Adrien rolled his eyes. “I already told you in the locker room, I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about!”

“You, sir, are the Dump King of Collège Françoise Dupont! And I intend to dethrone you!”

Nino and Adrien looked at each other, and then at Kim.

“Dump King?”

Marinette had her head buried in her hands, unable to look at him. Whatever this Dump King thing was, it was bad.

“Yeah dude! I used the bathroom right after you and you left this massive turd! It was two feet, easily! It was standing up in the bowl!”

Adrien’s face burned, embarrassment outweighing the pain in his, presumably, broken toe. “Kim…”

“You’re so clean and perfect…you’d never leave a message like that unless it was a challenge! And I’m going to start eating fiber ASAP!”

Now it was Adrien’s turn to hide his face in his hands.

Nino clapped a sympathetic hand to his shoulder. “Oh man, you broke the number one unspoken rule. No pooping at school.”

“If we’re not supposed to poop here, why are there toilets?” Adrien whispered back, harshly.

“It’s not a hard rule, just a globally recognized one.”

“Now you tell me!”

“Oh don’t play all naïve, Agreste. I know what you’re about.”

Adrien trembled in front of the class, because now he had to explain to Kim, in front of all his classmates, and the love of his life, that that hadn’t been any kind of challenge. He had simply forgotten to flush. And he normally didn’t poop logs. Just, regular sized poops.

Oh man, if it sounded this terrible in his head, it would sound so stupid out loud!

His mind really had to have been gone if he hadn’t noticed he left that behind.

“Listen, Kim…” He began, sitting on the edge of the desk. “It’s not like that. I’m not the kind of guy that shits and tells.”

That was not the right thing to say as everyone erupted in laughter, and Adrien’s embarrassment only grew deeper.

Fortunately, Marinette was the only one not laughing, as she was probably reeling from second hand embarrassment.

Kim noticed, and draped himself over her shoulders. “Oh come on Mari! Everyone loves a good poop joke!”

“Yeah, when they’re five.” She muttered.

“You have to admit, Adrien is always impressive. Even his deuces are deuces.”

Shutupshutupshutupshutup—

“You’ve got to be a little impressed, aren’t you?”

Marinette finally met his eyes and he was fully prepared to cry at her sympathetic gaze. She smiled. “I’m just glad you’re healthy.”

What.

“I’m doing school under my desk today, thanks everyone.” Adrien withered and crawled under their table.

“Dude, come on.”

“Adrien’s not here right now, he’s at the humiliation station. Population: me.”

“Don’t be so dramatic sunshine, everyone poops.” Alya said, by way of consolation.

And it probably would have worked too. If it were any other day. But the day had just started and he was already overwhelmed. He was acutely aware of Marinette’s eyes.

Nothing was worse than being embarrassed in front of your crush.

Well, as Chat Noir, he always managed to embarrass himself in front of her. But this was different! He was Adrien! Embarrassing himself as Adrien wasn’t just bad for him.

It was bad for his father.

Oh no.

Could his father find out about this? He didn’t have a sense of humor, he wouldn’t find this funny at all!

“Adrien? Where’s Adrien?” Miss Bustier called in attendance. He had been so deep in his self loathing, he hadn’t even realized the teacher had come in the room.

“The Dump King is under his desk.” Called Kim.

“Dump…? Never mind, I don’t want to know. Adrien, please sit in your seat properly.”

Resigned, Adrien went to stand but hit his head on the table, eliciting a ‘ooo’ from the room.

Adrien sat in his chair, slumped in defeat.

Plagg vibrated in his pocket, barely able to contain his laughter.

The kwami was right, today was not going well at all. Despite the wonderful knowledge that Marinette was Ladybug, everything else seemed to go wrong.

He failed his physics test.

He, Adrien Agreste, top grade in Physics, Physic nut, had failed his test.

He just stared at the paper with growing horror. “Miss Mendeliev, there must be some sort of mistake!”

“Sorry Adrien, you know the rules, you don’t show your work, you don’t get points, even if the answer is right.”

“But—“

“If you find the paper you did the problems on, I will regrade it. But it will be a zero in your grades until then.”

Frantic, Adrien dumped his backpack out on his desk and began searching for the lost paper.

“Not right now, Mr. Agreste.” She said sharply.

Feeling small, Adrien gathered his supplies and stuffed them back into his bag.

During lunch, he was called back to the mansion, even though he had asked to eat with his friends. Though, this wasn’t that much of a disappointment, considering that he dealt with it fairly often.

As he left the school, he found Marinette waiting for him. Beautiful, sweet, understanding, and patient.

As he walked up to her, she stuttered and stumbled on her words. “H-Hey Adrien! I’m sorry about what I said in class. Not that I’m not happy that you’re healthy! I’m very glad you are! You look great! You always do! I mean—! I just wanted to say...I could tell you were embarrassed by Kim, but I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to help.”

Adorable. Simply adorable.

He realized that he hadn’t responded, and only continued to stare at her longingly.

“Marry me...” he sighed.

Her eyes blew wide as her mouth went slack.

Quick! Play it off!

“Mari! You Mari! Me Adrien! Yes, good! Thanks!”

Nice.

“Bye!” He damn near shouted, and he hauled ass to his car, limping with each step.

Plagg giggled in his shirt, and whispered up to him. “You’re such a dumbass.”

“Shush.”

After lunch, it was time for gym.

Which was a fun activity with a, presumably, broken toe.

“You going to be okay, dude?” Asked Nino. “You know, if you just show Mr. D’Argencourt your foot, I’m sure he’d let you out of gym.”

“I’m fine, I just…need to walk it off.”

Nino gave him a flat look. “You’ve been ‘walking it off’ for several hours already. It’s not getting any less purple.”

“I looked it up. There’s nothing they can do about a broken toe. They can’t set it or anything, so don’t worry about it.”  

At this point, Nino decided to officially give up. “Fine, suffer. Be my guest.”

Soccer.

It had to be soccer.

Why not tennis? Why not frisbee? Why not pickleball? Any game! Any other fracking game, except for the one that demands you use your foot the entire time!

Adrien reconsidered his life choices. “Excuse me Mr. D’Argencourt, I stubbed my toe really bad earlier. Can I sit out?”

Mr. D’Argencourt, shrewd man that he was, gave Adrien a once over and huffed. “If you must. You can sit with Miss Rossi.” He gestured over to Lila, who was beaming at him.

Adrien winced.

“How about goalie?”

The coach was much more willing to have Adrien participate and consented.

Whatever forces on earth that had been responsible for Adrien’s crap day came back with reinforcements.

On Adrien’s team was Rose, Juleka, Nathanael, Chloe, Sabrina, and Max. Against them, was Kim, Alix, Ivan, Alya, Nino, and Marinette.

Whoever picked these teams is a moron. He thought to himself.

Adrien, humble as he was, was an excellent goalie. Of course, he’d give the credit to his time as Chat Noir. The game was almost over, with the score tied 0-0. His team hadn’t gotten anywhere near the other goal, but Adrien hadn’t let a single ball in on his side.

His was bruised, battered, sweaty, and exhausted.

Of course, most of his teammates hadn’t even broken a sweat.

Marinette stood nearby, waiting for the assist to the goal. Of course, having her so close was immediately a distraction, and all of his attention was on her.

“You’re amazing,” she told him, adorable blush on her cheeks. “Sorry we’ve been so ruthless, you know how Kim and Alix are.”

He meant to thank her, to assure her there was nothing to apologize for.

But his brain decided to remind him, yet again, that he was talking to Ladybug.

“Thank Kay, you’re not apologize. Amazing, yes!”

Flawless.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Are you okay?”

A low whine came from his throat, as he felt the need to shrivel up and die.

“Hey Dump King!” Kim shouted, “Block this!” And he kicked, with all the power in him.

To Adrien’s credit, he did Block the ball, but it was with his face.

“Adrien!” A cacophony of voices called out to him.

He was on the ground, wetness on his face. And in too much pain to move.

“Adrien? Are you alright?” Marinette was above him, looking down at him with concern and so much love. “You’re bleeding.”

“Bleeding...” he swooned.

“Alright, alright,” Mr. D’argencourt shooed everyone away from crowding him. “What happened.”

“He took a ball to the face, and I think he hit his head on the way down.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” The coach stated, holding up three fingers.

“Three.” Adrien said simply.

“Oh, he’ll be fine.” The coach said. “Will someone take Adrien to the nurse?”

Marinette opened her mouth to volunteer, but Lila shouted out first. “I’ll take him!”

Adrien used Marinette’s hand to climb to his feet, and then waved Lila off. “I’m fine, I can go on my own.”

Lila latched onto his arm. “Oh please, let me help you.”

“No, really, I’m—“ He sneezed, flinging blood right on Lila’s face and clothes.

She shrieked.

“Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t know I had a bloody nose!” He cupped his face, not really doing any good. He turned to Marinette, “Does it look okay?”

“I mean, you’re bleeding, but nothing looks bruised yet.”

Lila weaved her arm around his again, and pulled him away from Marinette. “Come on, let’s take you to the nurse.”

As she yanked him down the hall, Adrien looked down, and saw an absolutely menacing look on her gaze.

But it was gone just a moment later as she smiled up at him. “It’s okay Adrien. Accidents happen.”

He wasn’t completely convinced.

The walk to the nurses office was quiet, and Lila departed just as they arrived.

The examination went smoothly as well. “Well, Mr. Agreste, you don’t have a concussion, and your nose will be fine. It might be a while before it stops bleeding however.”

“Will I bruise?”

“You might. But the skin isn’t broken, so makeup should be able to cover anything.”

He hated wearing makeup, but it was better than getting yelled at. He sighed. “Thank you ma’am.”

“But you can keep this icepack on it for a little while. That’ll help.” Gently, she molded the icepack around his nose, and placed his hand on it to keep it steady. He sighed in relief. “Um, while I’m here…” He reached down and took off his shoe and sock. “I stubbed my toe earlier.”

“Oh honey!” The nurse exclaimed. “Why didn’t you see me earlier about that!? Look at how dark it is!”

Adrien hunched his shoulders. “I just…Didn’t want you to call my dad.”

The nurse considered it for a moment. “Alright, I won’t call your father. But try to keep off of it, and ice it as much as possible. Alright?”

Adrien managed a smile. “Thank you.”

After about 15 minutes, when his face went numb, he gave back the ice packs and decided to head back to class, a wad of tissue still up his nose.

In the hall, he ran into Lila, her face clean of any trace of blood, and her shirt damp, but clean as well. “Hey Adrien!”

“Oh, hi Lila…” He greeted cautiously.

“Is your nose still bleeding?”

“Yeah, the nurse said it’s not broken though.”

“That’s good! I actually was on my way to the nurse’s office to give you this.” She held up a cylindrical wad of cotton, with a string on the end.

“Uh…what is it?”

“It’s for packing nosebleeds. I get them all the time, so I always have them handy. All you have to do is put it in your nose and leave it there for an hour.”

“Oh! Well…thanks! I…I just I’ll go put this in now. Thank you!”

“It’s no problem Adrien. I just wanted to make sure you were all better for our photoshoot this afternoon.”

A chill ran down his spine. “Our…what?”

“Our photoshoot? I could have sworn it was today?”

No. Today was Friday. He was going to Marinette’s for his first sleepover with friends! He made sure to clear his schedule! Quickly, he whipped out his phone and pulled up the spreadsheet with all his events.

Right there, in a block after school until late evening, a photoshoot was scheduled. Edited as of 10am this morning.

He growled in his throat, and then called Nathalie.

“Adrien, do you really think it’s appropriate to call during school hours?”

“I had today off from modeling.” He said by way of greeting. “I was supposed to hang out with friends.”

“Yes, you were. But your father insisted on a shoot anyways. But he made sure to get your friend Lila as a model so you wouldn’t feel too bad.”

“Well, as long as I can hang out with them afterwards?”

“No, your father wants you to come home tonight.”

“Why?”

“He just does, Adrien.”

Adrien hung up, angry, upset, frustrated.

“I’m sorry Adrien, I thought you knew?” Lila said, with her little sing song voice.

“Well, it was scheduled at 10am, so no. I didn’t.”

“Weird, I got a text about it. Sorry!”

“Whatever,” He huffed. He was done. This day officially sucked, and he’d find a way to cataclysm it right off the calendar.

Well, at least Lila had been kind enough to lend him this…thing. Whatever it was. He went to the bathroom to change out his tissues.

Yeah, he was still bleeding.

But the new cotton wad fit like a dream and he jammed it as far up into his nose as he could stand, and then went back to class.

Lila was already there when he returned, and Miss Bustier was in the middle of her lecture when he walked into the room.

She stared at him. “Oh…uh, glad to see you’re alright, Adrien. But…um…”

“Dude,” asked Nino, when no one else would, “why do you have a tampon up your nose?”

Adrien paled, considerably, “…this is a…?”

Nino nodded.

Kim burst out laughing first, and the rest of the class followed suit, while Adrien hid his shame with his hands.

Marinette, blessed, beautiful, and kind, did not laugh. Instead, she stood and went to him. ”Come on.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along to the bathroom.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Lila glaring at them, glaring at him, with a smile on her lips. It seemed she had changed targets.

She led him to the boys room, and opened the door. “Anybody in here?”

When there was no reply, she pulled him in, and steered him toward the sink.

“Go ahead and pull it out.”

He did, the bleeding starting up again.

“Sorry I just commandeered the whole situation, but I had a feeling Lila was going to be less than helpful.” She wadded up a ball of toilet paper and handed it to him. “Hold this to your nose for now.”

With the ball under his nose, he just continued to gaze at her. “No, thank you for rescuing me. I’ve never dealt with a bloody nose before.”

Marinette gave him this sympathetic little smile. “Well, lucky for you, I have. A handful of times.”

Adrien remembered a dozen or so times when Ladybug got knocked a little too hard and ended up a little bloodied.

“Here,” she took a strip of toilet paper and twisted it into a long string. “Now, you’re going to fish this up your nostril as far as it will go. It will tickle and be uncomfortable, but I swear the bleeding will stop in a few minutes.”

Adrien took the tissue and did as she instructed. He got the urge to sneeze again, but held it back.

“There. Now we’ll just wait a little while and see if it stops.”

“Thank you, Marinette. You really are our everyday Ladybug.” He kind of felt stupid saying so, but it was so true.

Marinette tinged a lovely shade of pink, flicking her eyes away from his. “You’ve been having a pretty bad day today, huh?”

He groaned and almost collapsed on the floor. “The worst.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make up for it tonight, right? I know. You versus me, Ultimate Mecha Strike 4, battle to the death. What do you say?”

“That sounds like so much fun! But…”

“But?”

“My father…he changed his mind this morning. I can’t go. I’m sorry Marinette, I really really really wanted to.”

She deflated. Her shoulders dropped, her smile faded, even the light in her eyes snuffed out. “Oh.”

He wanted to cry. “I’m serious, I’m really upset about this! I was so excited!” He choked.

The life came back into the girl in front of him, and she rested a gentle hand on his arm. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll try again. If we’re persistent, eventually your father will have to let you go, right?”

Despite the optimism in her voice, Adrien could she she was severely disappointed.

Maybe she really did have feelings for him.

“We better get back. How’s your nose?”

He carefully extracted the tissue, only to find part of it still clean. “I think it’s good. I’ll just tuck a little bit in there just in case.”

“Good idea.”

“And...Marinette?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. You’re wonderful.”

She blushed, and some of that light came back to her eyes.

[yoon-kooks]

Blossom🌸- pt.2

Pairing: Stripper!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Stripper!AU, College!AU

Summary: You decide to give the strip club another chance when your stripper neighbor promises to give you a special treat afterwards.

Warnings: lap dances, stripping, dry humping, blindfolds, thigh riding

Word Count: 4.9k

⤐ Story 2 in the Blossom!Universe; Read Blossom-pt.1 on my masterlist!

A/N: i cant believe i actual wrote d** h****** but it be like that sometime 😔

You’re not one to believe in love so easily, but your latest art assignment calls for something with “pure love”, and what you’re witnessing comes pretty close. So you casually pull out your sketchbook and begin outlining a rough sketch of the scene in front of you.

Your subjects wrestle around, unaware of your gaze, drowning each other in kisses and affection. She sits on top of him as she nips at his skin. He chuckles as he blocks her little bites until he can no longer resist, succumbing to her demands for more attention.

The giggles only stop several minutes later when one of your subjects finally takes notice of you with your pencil in hand.

“Drawing me again, huh?” Jimin sits up on his bed and glances over at you while his white puppy continues to lick his chin. “What’s the assignment this time?”

“To draw something that symbolizes pure love,” you wave the boy over to come take a look at your sketchbook. Intrigued by the topic, Jimin hops off the bed.

“Oh? Am I what comes to mind when you think of pure lo-” He meant to tease you about your potential crush on him, but he can only laugh when he sees your idea of pure love. Him playing with his puppy.

“So pure, right?” You point out a couple of things you’re especially proud of, like the details on the puppy’s paw pads and the feathering of its wagging tail.

“Right…” His lips slowly fall into the shape of a pout as he examines your sketch further. “But why did you draw her so much better than you drew me?”

You know he’s just messing with you, but the dedicated artist in you takes Jimin’s criticism to heart. Looking back at your sketch, it’s true that his body came out looking a lot more underdeveloped like a stick person next to a very realistic puppy with individual strokes of fur. And as funny as it is to look at, it’s a technical issue with your art that you’ve been trying to fix.

“I already told you I have a lot more experience drawing animals than I do with humans,” you explain. It’s not that you’re necessarily terrible at drawing humans, but your lack of comfort with them really shows in comparison to animals. That’s why you’ve recruited your stripper neighbor as your muse to help you find that comfort.

“I guess you just need more experience with humans then,” Jimin cocks his head to the side, not-so-subtly taking your hand into his. He attempts to interlace his fingers with yours, but you can’t take a hint so he settles for a very friendzoned handshake. “Think about it: you started with drawing only animals, then you drew me a couple of times, and then you moved up to animal-to-human interactions. Shouldn’t the next step be human-to-human interactions?”

“You have a point,” you nod, rather enjoying the pleasant feeling of holding his hand. “But I only have one human model, aka you.”

The boy stares your hands still clasped together and laughs, “Are you not a human?”

“I can’t be my own model and draw at the same time…” You do a messy scribbling gesture with your free hand.

“You don't have to draw at the same time,” Jimin captures your free hand and pulls you down onto the bed with him. You’d think laying on a bed with a stripper would be overwhelming for someone as wholesome as yourself, but you do get a sense of ease with him. Maybe it’s his eyesmile, or the clumps of dog fur on his dark shirt that remind you he’s still your dorky boy next door. Either way, you feel comfortable because it’s him you’re with. “Just experience it with me.”

“Experience what?” You feel his warmth radiating towards your body. Another pleasant feeling. “Handholding? Hugs? Kisses? Cuddling? Sleeping together? Se-”

“A lot of things if you’d like,” Jimin shushes you with an alluring stare. “Do you want to do all those things?”

“That would be ideal, yes,” you nod eagerly. If it means your art will feel more authentic and sentimental, you’d gladly engage in these interactions with Jimin. “For science, of course.”

“Right… for science…” He gives you a thumbs-up, although the corners of his lips seem to curve downward.

The frown doesn’t sit well with you, so you wiggle your hands out of his grasp and simply mirror them against his palms. Slowly you interlace each of your fingers between his, one-by-one until there’s no finger left behind. You pay special attention to the boy’s expression when you do this, but it softens less than you had hoped.

“Actually…” Jimin say, breaking the handhold. He runs his fingers through his hair a couple of times before rolling off the bed. “I forgot about work.”

“Oh right…” It’s your turn to frown. You forgot about it too. Not just the fact that the boy has work in an hour, but also that his job requires him to satisfy the naughty needs of other people besides yourself. You’re not the only one who wants a taste of Park Jimin. “I should let you go then.”

Jimin watches as you gather your art supplies off his desk and crouch down to say farewell to the white puppy. He doesn’t say anything until your hand is on the doorknob. “You can tag along if you’d like, Y/N.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I really shouldn’t g-” Your eyes and mind drift away as the boy strips his shirt off with his back to you. You never knew back muscles could look like that—good to know for future reference. After he throws on a clean shirt free of dog fur, however, you push the boy’s toned body out of mind to finish your sentence. “I shouldn’t go since strip clubs aren’t really my thing, remember? Besides, I need to work on this art assignment some more. It’s due in a week.”

“A week is more than enough time,” Jimin raises his eyebrows at you and your sketchbook. “And do I need to remind you that the strip club is where you found art inspiration in me? So it couldn’t hurt to go again, right?”

You don’t answer him because you feel like it could hurt to go again. Not in regards to your art, but to something else.

“If you come, I’ll treat you to something really special afterwards. How about that?” He holds out his hand, giving you one last chance to change your mind. The special treat is tempting, especially if it’s your favorite sweet dessert. Besides, you’ve been working diligently with your art, so you know you’ve earned yourself a treat of some sort. And if Jimin is thoughtful enough to offer you that treat, who are you to refuse?

After a back and forth debate in your head, you finally take his hand and allow yourself to be pulled back to the place where you and the boy first met.

“What’s this special treat you’re talking about?”

“Oh you’ll see,” the boy snickers in a rather sinister tone.

-

Something about the strip club has changed since your first visit. There are still attractive strippers, there are still generous tippers, and there’s still your favorite spot in the secluded corner of the room. But it’s the whole vibe that’s changed. You don’t feel as intimidated by the sweaty bare bodies of the strippers or the thirsty screams of the audience. It could be because, unlike before, you know you’re not alone this time.

Jimin sits you down at your favorite spot and waits for you to get all situated with your sketchbook. “Can I buy you a drink before I have to go get ready for the show?”

“Just some water, please,” you say. The boy only laughs at your innocent response before disappearing into the crowd to fetch your requested beverage from the bar. After a short minute, your eye catches him striding back with a fancy glass of ice water in hand. He isn’t doing anything special, but he still manages to look stunning amongst everyone else. You even notice he’s turning quite a few heads, despite all the on-duty strippers vying for their attention. It’s as if the spotlight’s on him.

“Y/N, you’re already drooling and I haven’t even performed yet,” he teases as he hands you your water. You chug it down, hoping to relieve your thirst, but it’s not enough.

“Then go,” you give him a light shove with a hmph to send him off. “I’ll be waiting for my special treat afterwards.”

“Anticipate it, Kitten.” He has the audacity to not only call you Kitten, but also give you the cockiest smirk you have ever witnessed before heading backstage. You suppose that’s just his flirty stripper switch turning on.

Once you finally have some time to yourself, you sip on your water, casually people-watching from your quiet corner. The rest of the room is flooded with excitement, flashing with sparking lights, a mixure of moving color. If you had to pick a color palette for a strip club, what would it be? That depends on whether a certain boy is in the room or not.

You glance over to a familiar mint-haired stripper getting intimate with a gorgeous female in a nearby booth. She bites her ruby red lips, snaking her arms around his waist and pulling him closer to slip a generous handful of cash into his ass pocket. As thanks, the stripper hovers over her lap with swaying hips to the beat of the stereo as he lets her hands explore his bare upper half. Their eyes are locked, exchanging looks of… lust? Satisfaction? Greed? As a mere bystander, you’re unsure of the mood, so your color palette would be a rainbow muddled with a lot of grey area.

“Oh I remember you, Baby Picasso.” The mint stripper somehow made his way over to your corner while you were busy swatching your palette. The nearly blank page in your sketchbook catches his eye. “Here to draw our Jiminie again?” Yes.

“Not necessarily,” you say. “But he was the one who brought me back here.”

“Ah, customer loyalty at its finest,” he nods. “That kid attracts most of our regulars.”

“Is he really that popular?”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed the aura’s different when he’s on stage.” He leans over your table and points at your grey-toned swatches in the corner of the sketch page. “Doesn’t it feel like the club becomes more… vibrant when Jiminie’s around?”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you press a finger to your lips as the wheels start turning in your head.

“But don’t let yourself get too caught in The Jiminie Effect. Otherwise you might end up getting hurt.” The mint stripper shrugs at you before the arm of a bold customer swipes him away. “Let me know if you ever want a taste of The Suga Rush, Baby Picasso~”

You wanted to ask what he meant by “getting hurt” from Jimin, but you’re pretty sure you already know. Jimin is an incredibly charming boy with a way of captivating an entire room, and you’re happy he’s found success as a popular stripper. That being said, you can’t help but also feel a little disheartened that there are so many others who share the same feelings for him.

Regardless, you’re at the strip club to support Jimin and collect the special treat that he promised you. Surely your relationship with the boy holds a bit more weight than the others. So you decide to get out of your own head.

Scarlet red. That’s the color you see when Jimin comes out onto the main stage with a silky red blindfold covering his eyes. The first thing you think is: wow, how the fuck is this guy not tripping or falling off the stage when he can’t even see in front of him? The second thing you think is: tiddies.

His open blazer flashes his nipples (and the rest of his gorgeous chest) as he graces the stage. It honestly looks more like a sensual take on contemporary dance rather than stripping at first. Even his hip thrusts have a flare of elegance to them. After all, Jimin’s a contemporary dance student, but the way he incorporates such a graceful genre of dance into his stripping performance shows how much of an artist he truly is.

But once the blindfold comes off, so does everything else. Jimin’s killer gaze, in addition to his taunting tongue, earns him a shower of bills on the floor of the stage as his performance comes to a close. Unlike the other strippers at the club, he does not interact as closely with the audience or make his rounds through the room. Instead, he makes a proposal.

“Tonight, I’m doing something a little different.” He picks his blindfold up off the floor and strokes it as he speaks to the audience. “I’ll be giving one lucky person a private lap dance and-”

An eruption of screams fills the room along with a surge of money being waved around before Jimin can even finish his sentence. He waits for everyone to quiet down, but the aroused crowd does the opposite. The rowdiness persists because everyone’s trying to be louder than the person next to them in order to catch their favorite stripper’s attention. That must be The Jiminie Effect.

And although the boy never got to finish his explanation, you assume the private lap dance has something to do with the red blindfold in his hand and will most likely be given to the highest tipper. Lucky them, you suppose.

Rather than throw some of your nonexistent money at the boy, you instead take the opportunity to do some quick sketches of Jimin’s contemporary performance while it’s still fresh in your memory. You want to capture his fluid motions and his undying passion for performing. With all of this and the blindfold in mind, you decide on a color palette. Scarlet red, a color of burning passion and sensuality, is an obvious pick. However, there’s another color you wish to incorporate-

When you take a peek back up at the stage for that other color, you’re surprised to see Jimin staring right at you, despite a huge sum of money being waved right in front of him by an expensive-looking woman. He mouths something for you to interpret.

“You,” his lips read.

“Me?” You don’t exactly know how to feel about the situation, but it doesn’t sit well with you. “Not me.”

He nods at you, still wanting it to be you.

You shake your head to end the conversation, but when people start turning around in your direction to see who has Jimin’s attention, you get up from your seat. Not to take Jimin up on his offer, but to excuse yourself from the club. You dislike strip clubs after all.

-

Back at your dorm, you sit at your desk, fleshing out some of your sketches of the blindfolded Jimin. You sculpt out his toned body and shade in a vibrant red flare to emphasize his illuminating aura on stage. Even then, your sketch is missing something. You’re missing something.

Knock. You check the time on your clock. It’s just past midnight, right around the time you’d assume strip clubs close for the night.

“Hi-” Jimin tries to say, but you close the door as soon as you open it.

Knock. You don’t open the door this time, so the boy starts talking from the other side.

“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me, but I-”

“Of course I’m mad at you,” you make a tsk sound. “I can’t believe you were going to choose me over all that money in front of you. Didn’t you see that Gucci lady at the front waving the wad of cash with your name on it? You almost gave up all that money for me. Fool.”

There’s a pause of silence before Jimin tries another attempt at getting you to open the door. Knock.

You open the door this time. The boy has a puzzled expression on his face.

“Wait, you’re not mad that your special treat went to someone else?” He blinks at you.

“A lap dance was the special treat you were talking about earlier?” You give him a duck face because you’ve made a grave mistake. “I thought we were getting ice cream or something.”

“Uhh well… we could get ice cream if you really want to? But my intention was for you to take that lap dance. It was meant for you, you know,” he chuckles over his failed plan.

“I really didn’t realize it was meant for me… I guess I’m really that dense, aren’t I?” Now you feel bad for thinking you’d be getting ice cream over a lap dance. Jimin was only trying to show that you were special to him, and you rejected him like an oblivious idiot. “I’m sorry, Jimin. If I had known, I’d-”

“We can still do it if you’d like.” He pulls out a silky red cloth from his pocket. “Perks of having a stripper neighbor, right?” You nod.

Waiting on your bed, you watch as the boy tries to hype himself up with the blindfold in his fists.

“I can help you tie it behind your head if you want.” You hop up from the bed to help him, but you’re wrong again. He backs you up until the back of your knees hit your bedframe and your ass falls onto the mattress. Suddenly his thighs surround your lap and his abs are in your face. Thankfully he decided to keep his shirt on for this one.

“Can I put the blindfold on you?” He dangles the red cloth before your eyes. It was for you, not him. And as intimidating as it is to make yourself so vulnerable, you’re intrigued.

“Sure… but you don’t want me to watch you?” You take one last look at his seductive gaze and voluptuous lips before your eyes are covered by the soft yet very kinky fabric.

“It’s something new that I wanted to try,” Jimin speaks in his normal voice before switching over to a lower, more suggestive tone. “As an artist, you rely a lot on your sight, right? Well I’m curious to see which senses will come alive when we take away your sight.”

Right away, you sniff out an alluring aroma of warm spices with naughty undertones. The blindfold must be drenched in cologne, but why are you only noticing it now? Or perhaps it’s the boy’s own intoxicating scent that you’re being enticed by. Either way, you must really like the scent because your nose is twitching like a bunny to get a better whiff.

The aroma continues to grow stronger as you feel finger tips graze ever so slightly against the back of your hand. The chilling sensation tickles more than anything, but then the boy lifts your hands and places them right at his waist.

“Tug if you want me closer, Kitten,” he whispers into your ear to give you a taste of the closeness before leaning back. Naturally, your eager little fingers curl into the threads of his shirt and tug as suggested. There’s a smooth shift in the boy’s body hovering over you. The soft sounds of his clothes rustling give you an indication of how close he must be.

To put it in perspective, you decide it’s a good idea to paint a picture of the scene in your head. A gorgeous boy is performing a lap dance on top of you as you sit blindfolded on the bed. His hands are pressed into the mattress on either side of you, his hips roll in a fluid motion, and his body grinds against an invisible wall that separates his crotch from yours. The mere thought of being under him is making it difficult for you to sit still.

You tug again and recline your back for Jimin to follow. The seams of his jeans drag gently along your outer thighs. His hot breaths tickle the exposed skin down your neck. “Do you want to feel me like this?” No, you want more.

Your fingers stray away from the boy’s hips, following the paths defined by his toned abdominals. Even through his shirt, you can easily map out the structure of his muscles, so you flesh out the details of the visual in your mind. This is much more engaging and “hands-on” than an anatomy textbook, you nod to yourself. But there seems to be a missed opportunity if the shirt stays on.

“Can you take off your shirt? For scientific purposes only.” You surprise yourself with the bold request, but the blindfold has made you feel some type of way. Shameless.

“Are you sure all of this is purely for science? Because I see you’ve already spread your legs out for me.” You hear a shirt being tossed aside before the mattress suddenly dips with something solid between your thighs. You assume it’s his knee when he nudges it into your crotch. Whatever it is, it’s making your body squirm for more contact.

“Maybe it’s a little more than just, uh, science.” You attempt to maintain a sturdy voice, but it’s hard not to pant when you’re overwhelmed with a heat you’ve never felt before.

“A little?” He questions you as his knee digs further into that spot between your legs. Oddly enough, you’re quite satisfied with the hot sensation created by all that friction, and you hope it doesn’t stop. “I think you’re more than a little wet down there, Kitten.”

“Oh,” you try to say, but it comes out more like a weak moan.

And of course, as soon as you show any sort of evidence of pleasure, Jimin decides to stop moving without saying a word. He stands there silently, probably smirking at how turned on he’s made you. He has to be teasing you, and you have to admit it’s working.

With his knee still wedged at your crotch, you situate yourself more towards his thigh and squeezes your own thighs around him. Your hips start moving on their own by instinct to find any sort of stimulation. It’s starts off as modest rocking back and forth against his body. You try to be subtle about it, as if the boy isn’t aware of your intentions. Surely riding his thigh whilst rubbing your wet lewd scents all over him won’t give it away.

“Oh, that’s your kink?” He sounds rather impressed. Once you finally find a good method and pace fore stimulating yourself on him, however, he pulls his knee back. “Let’s switch places.”

Next thing you know, your ass is sitting on top of Jimin’s lap with your legs wrapped around his waist for support. Without even thinking, your body continues to pleasure itself against boy, grinding and yearning for the wonders of sex.

You’d paint yourself a visual of the scene at hand to make everything more vivid, but you don’t really want to know what you must look like in such a helpless state. In times like this, you’re thankful for the blindfold-

“I wish you could see yourself, blindly humping and panting like a horny little puppy.”

You freeze at Jimin’s vivid narration of scene, regretfully imagining it as told. “Can I take the blindfold off?”

Unsure of whether you want to continue or end the stripper shenanigans once the blindfold comes off, the boy swiftly removes the cloth from your eyes and blinks at you. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the bright lights of your room, but when they’re back to normal, you remain seated in his lap and blink back at the shirtless boy.

For as intimate and steamy as it was a moment ago, neither of you know what to do or say. It’s a comfortable silence, although you do feel a bit embarrassed for showing the horny little puppy side of yourself to your neighbor. Besides that, you’re content. Your body finally relaxes, loosening its hold around the boy’s waist.

When Jimin comes to the conclusion that the stripper shenanigans are over, he lets out a chuckle to break the silence.

“What?” you pout.

“Nothing!” He throws his shirt back on, but not before you catch one last look of his tiddies and blossom tattoo. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get ice cream?”

-

“What were you laughing about earlier?” is the first thing you ask after taking a lick of your ice cream.

“You’re not gonna let that go, huh,” Jimin sighs into his strawberry sundae. “I was just laughing at you. Is that a crime, Officer?”

“But why?” You’d think you were holding an interrogation at your local late-night ice cream parlor. The boy in question rolls his eyes.

“You know how chemistry students always have to wear goggles during labs?”

“Yeah and when they take them off, they have this funny red imprint around their eyes,” you recall your old days in chem class. “Wait, are you trying to say I had funny red marks around my eyes after taking the blindfold off?”

Jimin shrugs.

“And that was funny to you?” You want to be annoyed by his childish humor, but you’re more so relieved that he wasn’t laughing about anything that happened while the blindfold was still on.

“It reminded me of how you always say it’s all for science,” he says, carving out a spoonful of strawberry syrup off the top of his ice cream with such precision. You know what he’s talking about—it’s your infamous excuse for wanting to get closer to the boy.

“Is it a crime for me to indulge in my scientific research, Officer Park?” You lick the ice cream off your lips with a playful tongue.

“Only if you abuse it,” he points at you as if to evoke fear before softening his expression. “But in your case, no.”

“Good.” You swipe a scoop of the boy’s sundae right in front of his face. “I don’t want you to think I’m just using you for your body so I can pass my art class...”

“I know that’s not the case, Y/N. Otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered with the whole blindfolded lap dance thing.” Jimin points to your ice cream cone, so naturally, you let him have a taste of it. “Because what’s the point of a handsome stripper giving you a lap dance if you can’t see what’s going on?”

“To feel things that you wouldn’t otherwise notice if you were too distracted by a naked body dancing over you?” you start munching on the waffle cone. “And by ‘feel things’, I mean emotions, not sexual pleasure. Just FYI.”

“Right, because you totally didn’t feel any sort of sexual pleasure while riding my thigh,” he nods.

“Right,” you nod along with a pretty good poker face. He’s on to you, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing what effect he has on your body. “Thank you, though, for not one, but two special treats.”

“There could’ve been a third if we’d just kept going-”

“Anyway,” you say, pulling out your sketchbook to change the subject. “That lap dance did give me some new art inspo.”

“It was quite the experience for a human-to-human interaction, huh.” Jimin scrapes the last bit of strawberry ice cream, watching as you flip through your sketches of him until you reach the ones from earlier that evening. You have a new color to add to the palette.

“Mhm,” you say, shading in the same color of the boy’s ice cream, the same color that his blossom tattoo represents. “But what do you think about this human-to-human interaction?” You wiggle your index finger back and forth between you and him.

“You mean us chatting over ice cream?” he asks and pauses for a second to think. “I like it. It’s a lot less, uh, intense than some of the other things you and I have done. But I like that.”

“Same. I think regardless of whether you’re a half-naked stripper or just a college kid eating ice cream, the world becomes more vibrant with you in it.” You flip your sketchbook around for Jimin to see.

“You drew me as a Super Saiyan?” He’s referring to his wicked blonde hair and the reddish-pink flare that surrounds his buff body. “Super Saiyans do make the world a better place, huh?”

“My human anatomy could still use some work, but you get the gist.” You don’t know whether to laugh or be offended by his weeb reference. Either way, he has a smug look on his face, as if being drawn as a Dragon Ball character is something to take pride in.

“Somehow the abs look super realistic though…” He strokes his nonexistent beard. “I wonder how that happened.”

You have flashbacks to when your fingers outlined a whole ass map of each individual muscle hiding beneath his shirt. You suppose your mental map translated well onto paper. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

“Let me know if you’re ever in need of another anatomy lesson,” he hums. “For science, right?”

“For science.”