MLB one shots

Frosty

If there was one constant feeling Adrien knew, it was cold.

He knew that the loneliness that he feels from isolation is icy. The desperation to feel affection from his father is a cruel grueling blizzard. Every feeling he's ever had since after his mother left could only be described as...

Cold.

And then he met Plagg.

The world suddenly didn't seem as bland anymore.

He met Ladybug, an awkward shy teen who grew in confidence and strength. He had finally gotten the chance to go to a public school. He met Nino and Alya and Marinette.

Marinette, they awkward and shy girl who had sent his mind in a whirl when she first caught him. Who now stutters with the force of a thousand suns and with kindness that makes him feel warmer than 2 thousand suns.

Its an odd feeling, to feel so loved and cared for by two of the most loveliest girls he's ever met (besides his mother of course).

Its one the most exhilarating feelings he's ever felt. One he craves more of. One he's been starved of. One he can't live without.

And then he realizes that everyone lives with this feeling of love. One so warm and satisfactory that it fills you up to the brim, and then some. And that poor, lovesick, affection starved boy gets some wherever he can find it.

He goes to Ladybug first. Whenever they patrol together, he will nudge his head against her fist and plead wordlessly for pets. At first, she only glared, but he was persistent, and she saw how much he really needed it, so she would do it whenever the time was right.

Then he goes to Nino. He'll touch his shoulder constantly, making sure Nino is always paying some sort of attention to him. A lot of times Nino would look at him oddly, but he just adapted to Adrien's pats.

And then Marinette. Sweet wonderful Marinette. She was always open to his shoulder pats, or hand touching, or even hugs if it went there, no matter how blushy she got. And that was only as Adrien.

After the Evilistrater, he began evening trips to her balcony. She was... surprised to say the least, but let him in despite her mocking glares and playful insults. Soon it became their thing, him dropping by, sometimes for hours, sometimes for a minute, and in those times, Chat would be more relaxed and warm than he'd ever felt in years. She let him lay his head on her lap and she'd stroke his hair and rub his ears and tell stories about princes and princesses and dragons with fire breath and wings. Or some days they'd sit on her chaise and he would purr into her back as she giggled from his breath on her neck and show him all the new designs she had sketched in her sketchbook. Other days he'd be so out of it that she'd invite him on her bed and let him lay with his hands around her waist and head pressed against her belly and she'd whisper sweet nothings into his ears and scratch his scalp and rub his back.

And in a million years never had he felt so mind-numbingly warm.

And he treasured every second of it