Daminette Oneshots

Say You're Mine

-Damian pines for Marinette after she gets together with Adrien.

Damian's POV

I hate seeing Marinette be so affectionate with Adrien. I don't know why, though.

Marinette asked me (as her best friend) to go out to a restaurant. She decided to surprise me with meeting her new boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

Yay.

So now I'm stuck in a booth, watching the lovebirds go at it.

What is this feeling in my chest? It feels like a rubber band around my heart. I rub over it, trying to soothe the pain. Hmm. I must ask Father about it later.

My family has no history of heart conditions. Still, I must ask.

Wait! One of the 'novels' Todd forced me to read said that the main character had this pain. But he had romantic feelings for the other main character.

No. No. No. I promised myself that Mother would not have an heir. Anyway, Marinette is in a relationship with someone else.

A Few Months Later...

I hear a knock on my apartment door. Who could it be? Perhaps Grayson. Did he get stabbed again? I will never understand why he insists on using the front door for that-the fire escape is much more dramatic.

I open the door to see Marinette, tears streaming down her face. Her shirt is slightly unbuttoned and her makeup is smeared. Did Agreste...

All I see is green. I'm going full assassin mode, which I haven't done since my days serving the League. Marinette quickly puts her hand on my arm. "No, Damian."

I shake my head. "He deserves my wrath for harming you." She just sighs, turning back to hug me. The tips of my ears blaze at the contact.

She pushes past me, heading into my apartment and flopping on the couch. I sigh, shaking my head, not entirely surprised.

I go to make her some tea. I set the kettle on the stovetop, turning it on to boil the water. "Marinette! What kind of tea would you prefer?" She yells back, "Lavender." I nod, even though she can't see me.

When the tea is ready, I carry it to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table. She carefully picks it up, sipping delicately. I can still see teartracks on her cheeks.

She is not ready for me to confess my feelings. Perhaps when she has healed from this endeavor, I shall tell her.