Miraculous one-shots

Max x Y/N

You met Max while looking for books that you needed for a project in the school library; you decided that you would pick up a book to read in your free time as well. You were searching for a specific one in the realistic fiction section, and when you found the title of it on a sky-blue spine, you went to grab it, but it was suddenly taken off the shelf.

You weren't possessive, and you never had been; you simply wanted to see who had so ruthlessly taken the book from the shelf before you could get a hold of it. Quickly deciding to do so, you rounded the corner and turned to see a short kid with dark skin and even darker hair.

He wore black-rimmed glasses that complimented his chocolate brown eyes, which peered at you questioningly, "May I help you?" You shook your head, regained your composure, and pointed to the piece of reading material that he had in his hands.

"Are you going to be using that?" you asked awkwardly, and he glanced at the book before answering, "Um, no. Do you need it?" You quickly nodded, and the brunet raised an eyebrow, adding on, "I don't see your interest in it. I've read it before, and it's a bit boring." It was your turn to lift one eyebrow, mostly at his superior attitude.

"First of all, you better not be a spoiler kind of guy," you stated, seemingly making him more confused. "And second of all, I'd rather read about emotions than deal with them. Just hand it over, please."

The unfamiliar boy sent you one last bewildered stare before bursting out in laughter, though not without quickly quieting himself afterward since you were still in the library. However, you simply wondered why in the world he was so amused.

"Sorry, I've just never heard anyone say something like that before," he explained, chuckling once more. "You can call me Max. What's your name?" Deciding not to question his sudden introduction, you answered with your own, saying your last name as well.

The now named teen smiled and handed you the book in his hands, before sending a friendly wave as he walked away, most likely to join his friends. Though you were still quite confused, you shrugged to yourself and went to the other side of the library. You opened the leather material to the first page and began reading after a quick skim of the title.

~Percy Jackson & the Olympians~

You consequently saw Max more often after the incident with the book, and the two of you ended up helping each other with homework most of the time. Some days, you stayed at the library late together, and during the winter, that meant the sky would darken much sooner than desired. Today was one of those days.

The sun was lowering outside the window, and you wanted to finish an assignment for your literature class so you wouldn't forget after doing chores at home. However, writing was never your strong suit, and you were utterly dumbfounded as to how you were supposed to answer the last question.

"Um, Max?" you mumbled, and he lifted his head from his science homework, which he was almost done with, "What is it?" You let out a lengthy sigh, and he smiled sympathetically when he saw that you were currently struggling with English; somehow, he always understood completely. The brown-skinned boy scooted his chair closer to yours and propped his elbow up on the table, peering down at the paper to read the question.

Imagine you are making a personality quiz. What inquiry do you think would impact the taker's result the most? Answer in a complete sentence and be specific.

"I swear, Ms. Bustier rigged this thing," you groaned, "What makes her think I know how to make a personality quiz?" Max shook his head and chuckled, clearly entertained by your frustration.

He rested his chin in his palm, becoming silent for a few moments before finally suggesting, "I guess you have to take into mind the depth of the question. I mean, what's something you might take a while to answer? It's kind of like - "

Suddenly, he cut himself off when his chocolate eyes met yours, and you raised both eyebrows at him, waiting for him to continue with his statement.

The sun was setting outside the window, and the oranges and pinks of the image were quite a sight to see, but what caught him off guard was how stunning you looked. The colors outlined your face and your hair, yet what he paid the most attention to was how perfectly they complimented your eyes, making them sparkle, even as you looked at him with slight annoyance.

"Um, hello?" you queried expectantly, snapping your fingers a few times before him jerking out of his trance of sorts. "It's kind of like what?" Max's cheeks seemed to grow darker, almost red, while he stuttered out a reply, "Oh, u-um, j-just what I said before. You know, wh-what's something you might take a little bit to answer?"

Strangely enough, his nervous speaking gave you an idea, and you hurried to write it down so you could, at long last, finish your assignment. Even so, your academically advanced classmate could not focus on his work after that, because one thing remained on his mind, consuming his thoughts.

When had you become so beautiful?

Winter break came soon after that, and before you knew it, Christmas Eve had arrived. You were having a nice dinner with your family, and you were surprised to see an akumatized villain on the news. Throughout the whole incident, you kept inwardly wondering how someone could be corrupted the night before Christmas, and you felt considerably grateful that Santa Claws hadn't targeted your house. You were simply told to stay inside, and that was when you received a call on your cell phone.

"Who could be calling at this hour?" you mumbled to yourself, but answered nonetheless, being greeted by Max's slightly high pitched voice. "Oh, hey, Max. Everything okay?"

"Where are you right now?" your classmate asked out of nowhere, and you raised an eyebrow, "At my house." You glanced back at the news as you heard a sigh on the other end, and you added, "You sound relieved. Did you think I'd be taking a walk right now or something?"

"Of course not!" Max argued, acting like the idea was absurd. "It's just . . . there was at least a sixteen percent chance that you could've been." You almost didn't hear that last part, yet you began to wish you didn't, your cheeks heating up at the thought that he was concerned about you even when you weren't with each other. There was silence between the two of you, until he hesitantly said your name, almost as a question.

"What is it, Max?"

"I'm glad you're safe," he practically whispered through the phone, and you felt your lips breaking out into a grin while you timidly replied, "Yeah, uh . . . m-me, too."

You mentally slapped yourself for your choice of words, though your friend didn't seem to mind, "Hey, so I heard it's gonna be nice enough to travel by foot once we start back up again at Françoise Dupont. I thought we could maybe . . . walk to school together?" For a split second, everything in the world seemed to freeze in that one moment. What did he just say?

"Walk to . . . school?" you inquired, and Max quickly spoke again, "You don't have to, if you have some sort of special route that you usually use, or you know you'll be gone that day, or - " Without thinking, you blurted out, "Yes, I'll walk to school with you!"

The brunet appeared to be just as shocked as you were, seeing as he said nothing in response, except one shy word, "Okay." You heard the smile in his voice as you softly did the same, and you found yourself looking forward to when you would see him the next week, once classes started again.

Over the next few days, you did everything the way you had been during winter break, like reading or helping your mother around the house, except one thing was different. That thing was the fact that Max was on your mind constantly after he had called you the other night, and you eventually just chalked it up to appreciation for his concern.

But you knew it was more than simple gratitude. You often pondered it for what seemed like hours, especially because it was an unfamiliar feeling that you didn't understand, and you never liked it when you didn't understand.

Finally, the first day of school after Christmas arrived, and you got up early as always, getting dressed into an outfit you had picked out the evening before. After brushing your teeth and doing your hair, you inspected yourself in the mirror with critical eyes.

Normally, you didn't care much about your appearance; however, today was unlike other days, which you knew because of the many emotions rising in your chest and the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You just wanted to see Max.

What you didn't expect was him waiting outside your door, his bookbag slung over his shoulder with a look of anticipation on his face as he waited for you. "Hey, Max," you said slowly, closing your exit behind you before stepping towards him, and the brunet smiled crookedly, which you found kind of cute, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

"M-Morning," he stammered quietly, shuffling to the side so both of you could stroll next to each other on the sidewalk. "Hey, um, can I ask you something?" Your immediate response was "You just did." and Max rolled his cocoa-colored eyes playfully before elucidating, "Something personal." You shrugged and nodded in reply.

"Have you ever . . . had a crush on someone?" your classmate inquired hesitantly, and you froze. "Or, you know, been in love?" Without making eye contact, you answered with another question, "I, uh . . . what do you mean by that?"

He flinched, surprised at your response, yet spoke again nonetheless, "Being in love? I-It's like, um . . . every time that person smiles, you smile with them, and whenever they ask for your help, you're glad that they came to you. You always want to be with them, and you're always happy around them. You think they're amazing, and awesome, and intelligent, and beautiful, even when they're not trying to be. You hope . . . you hope to be there for her as much as she is for you."

Halfway through, you began staring at him with the same bewilderment as the first day the two of you met, and his cheeks darkened with a crimson color once he noticed. Max turned towards you, and you both came to a stop, though you were already almost there, after greatly slowing down to listen to his explanation.

Though he was still quite short, you were shorter than him and he peered down at you with an unreadable expression. Your heart was beating faster by the second, and you didn't know what to do, so you said the first thing that came to mind. "I-I don't understand any of this," you muttered, just loud enough for the boy to hear. "And I don't like it when I - "

"When you don't understand," the brunet breathed, finishing your sentence, and smiling softly afterward. He tentatively reached his hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and his index finger lingered, brushing against your upper cheek.

Suddenly, he came forward, and you felt him gently kiss your cheek before hovering only a few inches away from you. "Did, um . . . did I forget to mention interesting and cute?" You chuckled lightly, and he joined you before staring at your face for a moment longer.

"Max?" you queried feebly and said teen raised his dark brows. "Are you . . . going to kiss me?" Yes, it was a bit blunt, but you needed to know and you were still the type of person to be brutally honest. Max froze, your gazes locking onto each other as he seemed to ponder his answer.

Instead of giving one, he quickly leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, which shocked you slightly, yet you still managed to return the gesture while wrapping your arms around his neck. Once again, it was an unfamiliar feeling, but this time, you liked it. You liked how it made you speechless and almost unable to think as your classmate planted his hands on the small of your back.

You would've enjoyed it so much more if he hadn't pulled away, but you were both out of breath and the temperature wasn't helping. The brown-haired boy rested his forehead against your shoulder, and you spluttered, "G-Good answer..." He laughed and intense heat rose to your cheeks, swiftly informing you that you were blushing, and you buried your face in his scarf.

"I-I'd do it again, but . . ." Max began, "We should head for Françoise Dupont, or we're going to be late." You had gotten up early; no way that was the truth. Luckily for him, you knew that he was simply trying to escape an awkward situation, as were you, so you accepted the suggestion. Although, even when you separated, he held your hand tightly while you started to walk in the direction of your school.

You smiled the entire way.