Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Marinette tapped her pencil against her lower lip, barely able to focus on her science assignment. Well… Perhaps the two strong hands placed flat on her shoulders, massaging her tensed muscles, weren’t helping her to think straight at all. 

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” Adrien's voice was soft as it suddenly tickled her ears, making her drop her pencil on the book which was lying open on her desk. 

Spinning around in her desk chair Marinette faced him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Of course. With you by my side, I'll get there by the end of the evening. Do you have so little faith in me?”

“Of course not. I know that you and I can get there , 'cause we work well together; we have chemistry .”

“Well, there's more physics, in this assignment unfortunately,” Marinette sighed as she glanced at the two pages covered with formulas. She really couldn’t get why Adrien found science so exciting. A year ago, her friend had even started studying to become a science teacher. Now that his father was out of the picture, Adrien had the choice, for once. And he made a good choice if you asked Marinette. Not only because he had such a big interest in science, but also because he was going to be wonderful with the kids .

“That's why I'm here to help. I'm always up for physic 's duties…” Adrien smiled and winked at her, and that was the moment the penny eventually dropped. 

Marinette was slow to catch on sometimes, especially when Adrien was so (so!) close to her.

“You weren't talking about the assignment, right?” She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing pink.

“I wasn't. Though…” He tilted his head, his smile changing into a more serious expression as his eyes deeply bore into hers. “...Since I'm a very curious student, I really wanted to know if you were still okay with the fact of practicing together and seeing the many reactions we can make.” 

His words finally rang a bell in her mind— that kind of 'science'. 

“What about you? Do you want to keep going?” Marinette finally asked, sending the ball back in his court. 

“Marinette,” he said seriously. “Whatever exactly occurs between us, physics or chemistry… I don't want it to stop.”

“Me neither.” She shrugged.

“You're aware of what it implies, aren't you?” He crooked a brow at her and seemed anything but convinced. 

Abruptly standing up from her desk chair, Marinette waved one of her hands under his nose as she began to count on her fingers. “Keep it a secret.” She raised a first finger before a second and a third followed suit. “No dates. No kisses.” And a fourth finally joined in. “No… feelings. Got it.”

“You did learn your lesson pretty well. Did you know that you're currently raising my dopamine level?” He licked his lip, and his eyes roamed down her body, making her feel self-conscious of the way he drank her in— luckily, she wasn't 14 anymore or his gaze would already have had her melting on the spot. His hands then started to move slowly, sliding along her sides before gripping her hips and pulling her closer. “I wish I were a DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes .”

“I absolutely don't know what that means, but I'm sure going to unzip something tonight,” Marinette cooed in a voice as sweet as D-glucopyranosyl-D-fructofuranose glucose.

Chapter Text

Marinette and Adrien’s little ‘science’ activities had been going on for weeks. The rules were clear, thanks to Marinette’s control freak tendencies.  On the plus side she hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. Rules had messed up her (love) life ever since she got her Miraculous. Not this time, though. Or, at least, she didn't want to let it mess her up.

This was the best agreement ever. 

It had to be.

She took the little umbrella out of her cocktail, pinching the wooden stick and rolling it between her fingers as she remembered how she had fallen in love with Adrien—underneath the shelter of an umbrella, on a cold and rainy day… It now seemed so far away and, at the same time, so close. 

How had they come to end up like this? How could they have sworn not to let their feelings interfere in what they had (whatever that was?) Why, oh why, had she agreed with the idea of being friends with benefits? She was still revealing in the mystery of her own stupidity.

She looked up, drinking in Adrien's muscled silhouette in the distance… She had to admit that he was quite a catch. If he had been cute in Collège … Now he was handsome and… very sexy.

“Do you want a tissue? You're drooling.” Alya whispered in her ear, startling her. Her knees abruptly hit the table, her virgin Mojito spilling on her blouse. Alya hissed and hastily turned around, recovering tissues from her handbag and handing them to Marinette.

“I didn't need those, but now that you mention it…” Marinette muttered through gritted teeth, glaring at her best friend as she snatched the tissues from her hand. “Great. Now I have no drink and my top is soaked.”

“Don't worry, Hot Stuff, will get you another drink.” As she said that, Alya whistled in the direction of the boys standing at the bar, quickly getting their attention—and the attention of the people around them. She tilted her head toward the mess Marinette made on the table and took hold of the empty glass, shaking it not-so-subtly. 

It didn't take long for Nino and Adrien to start laughing, the former going in full throttle, while the latter turned to the waitress, ordering another drink.

“What the guy wouldn't do for you seriously…” Alya huffed as she took a sip of her own cocktail. “Maybe he could even offer to take off your blouse and put on his shirt instead,” Alya said with a smirk.

“Alya, I already told you more than once that I was over Adrien.”

“It doesn't mean that Hot Stuff is over you ,” Alya teased. Her best friend shrugged as her tongue darted out, fidgeting with her straw as her brows twitched with mischief.

“We're just friends.. .” Marinette made sure to emphasize the last word as though she was painstakingly sharpening a knife. “...nothing more.”

“Yeah, right! You're just drooling over his gorgeous and caring personality, just as much as he's just drinking in your wonderful designs… not your cute little tush,” Alya snorted. “Your lecherous glances for each other aren't innocent at all.”

“I'm 19, not the  not innocent, clumsy, stuttering girl from collège anymore. I can totally get an eyeful if I want, like any other sane girl would.”

“That's more a  mouthful when you two spent 15 minutes in the restroom together right after you got here.”

“Simple coincidence.”

“Is that so?” Alya motioned to a random spot underneath her chin—and it wasn't because her blouse was still soaked wet from the earlier spilling accident. “Your buttons are messed up, but your blouse was fine before you went to the restroom.”

Marinette cursed under her breath as she hastily put the right buttons in the right buttonholes. At this point, the boys were back to their table, and Adrien couldn't prevent his eyes from flickering down her busy hands as he handed her her glass.

A helpless smile was all she could give him back as her lips hastily dived first to catch her straw, her face and shame drowning in her virgin Mojito.

This wasn't going according to their first rule.

Not at all. 

“Want a ride?” Adrien's hot breath ghosted over Marinette's neck as he handed her her jacket and helped her put it on—perfect gentleman as usual. Perfect tease as usual.

“No, it's—” She was about to decline his offer but fate seemed to be conspiring against her. 

“Adrien, can you take Marinette home? Nino and I need to babysit the twins tonight.”

Or maybe it was just Alya conspiring against her. It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last.

Marinette didn't know if her best friend talked about her twins , or Nino's, but one thing was sure, Alya wasn't talking about Ella and Etta. Her eyes flashed with so much mischief, Marinette almost felt sorry for Nino's family jewels. The poor guy was obviously going to get some tonight, possibly more than he could handle since Alya looked ready to take the bull by the horn.

“No problem; the boulangerie is on my way home.”Adrien smiled brightly; he was always ready to offer his help to a damsel in distress.

“Well, that's good for everyone, isn't it Marinette?” Alya was grinning so enthusiastically that Marinette could've sworn the girl's jaw could drop any moment.

“Very good,” Marinette muttered as she forced a smile before she turned around and grabbed Adrien's elbow. “Let's go.” She dragged Adrien out of the bar, turning left to go straight home before he stopped her in her tracks. She lifted an inquisitive brow, not getting why he was so suddenly preventing her from going back home.

“This way.” He pulled her around the corner, walking a few steps before stopping in front of a black motorcycle and reaching to open the seat of it. 

“You're kidding, right?”

“I'm not. I may have blown what was left of my father's money to buy this beautiful baby.” He took out a red helmet from under the flap seat and handed it to Marinette. “This one's yours,” he whispered as he pulled out a black helmet for himself.

“Mine? Like… you bought me one?”

“There aren't many girls I plan to let ride it, so yes; yours.” He put on his own helmet and hopped on the horse. He watched her stare at the helmet. “Coming soon, I hope?”

Pursing her lips, Marinette nodded before sitting behind him and putting on her red helmet.

Red.

“Why did you choose a red one?”

“I thought it would suit you.” As he said that he peered over his shoulder, taking her in with a soft smile. 

His intense gaze riveted her, sending shivers down her spine.

“And I was right; it’s perfect. Besides, red’s my favorite color.” He shrugged as he turned away from her (not without another good look at her) and grabbed the handlebars, giving her a last warning, “Hold tight,” before starting the motor. 

Her hands slipped under his leather jacket, circling his waist and balling into fists in the smooth fabric of his shirt.

They stayed silent for a short while, until Adrien’s voice echoed in her ears.“There’s a mic and mini-speakers built into the helmet,”  he said. It was surprising to hear him so distinctly. 

“I can hear you pretty well,” she said, definitely  surprised to hear him so well in the helmet.

“I need to ask you; Alya… she knows, right?”

Marinette shifted on the seat, unease churning in her stomach. Her mouth was dry as she tried to get the words out; she really dreaded answering him but reluctantly took the plunge anyway.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered as she lowered her head, the visor of her helmet coming to rest between his shoulder blades.

“It's okay. Don't worry.”

Marinette raised her head so abruptly that she almost knocked her helmet against Adrien's in her shocked momentum.

“You're not mad?”

“Mad? Are you kidding? With Alya, it was going to happen sooner or later.” Adrien stopped at a red light and flashed her a glance over his shoulder. 

“So you're not mad,” Marinette repeated, astonished. She hadn't seen it coming.

“I'm not mad.”

“Great.”

“Great,” he repeated and she could see a smile popping behind the visor of his helmet, as well as some mischief shining deep in his mesmerizing green eyes. “Now that's clear, and since Alya and Nino are my apartment neighbors, should I take you to your place anyway or… mine ?”

She stared flabbergasted at him only for a fraction of second before the answer rolled over her lips, and out of her mouth without second thoughts.  “ Yours .”

Stepping on the gas at the green light and turning right instead of left, Adrien headed for his place. 

And that's how I met your mother Adrien somehow accepted that they broke the first rule: keep it a secret.

Chapter Text

Adrien watched quietly as the rays of the rising sun filtered through the curtains of his room and caressed, danced, swirled, on the naked skin of Marinette's legs. His eyes traveled up her petite silhouette, intently taking in each of her curves; sometimes exposed to his gaze, sometimes molded under his black satin sheets. 

She was still sound asleep, her features peaceful, her hair spread over the soft pillow. Sun beams shimmered on them like how silver reflections rippled on the waves of a quiet ocean at low tide. 

The sight of her, sleeping in his bed, was more breathtaking than any view of paradisiac beaches in Maldives if you asked him. 

He slowly, tentatively reached down, the tip of his fingers brushing her calves and gingerly skimming up her left thigh. 

The sensuous caress made her groan. One of her hands balled up the sheets, placing them back to cover her legs as Adrien couldn't help but muffle a laugh. 

Of course he should have known better. Marinette who was always late to classes back in their Collège years… Marinette who was running outside in her pajamas… She wasn't a morning person, that much was clear. 

This was the very first time he brought her back here, the first time he spent a whole night with her until the sun rose, the first time he would get to see her smile first thing in the morning (well, after probably some more grunts from an uneasy wake up)... all of which was completely new to him. New and… somehow forbidden. 

Adrien had plans to take over the world . He really did. After Ladybug’s countless rejections, he didn't want to fall in love anymore. He didn't want to let his heart beat to the rhythm of another and rule his reason. And he had succeeded pretty well until now, Marinette was about to get him off the road. Hence all the rules he imposed on them. On her, but also on him. Although he had been determined to follow them straight up to now, his resolve was starting to fail him as Marinette burned down everything in her path, taking his walls down, and paving hell his own way with desirable intentions.

He withdrew the hand still touching Marinette's thigh through the satin sheets and racked his fingers through his messy ‘bed head’ hair. 

What had that mermaid woman done to him? 

Everything was going so well, so smoothly, for the first weeks. Maybe it was the euphoria of the first times. The thrill of discovering new sensations and limits. The relief of letting hormones finally spring free. The fact that she was there to support him all the way when his father turned out to be Monarch. Or maybe it was all a lie and that, again, he should have known better than to trust his treacherous heart.

Damn beautiful blue-eyed woman!  

He moved forward, his hand hovering again above Marinette's body, before taking it back. He went for a second try, his fingers ghosting close to her hair but backtracked again.

What was wrong with him?!

He got the better deal. To be that close to her and not have her. Feeling her… Breathing her… Be alone without really being. Alone with someone. Someone who cared about you. Someone who's not likely to break your heart. Someone who's not in love with you.

Adrien eventually got up from his bed, going straight to his closet. He took out some clothes, hastily dressed up, and once done, he made sure to leave the room without waking Marinette up. 

He soon found himself in the centerpiece of his apartment.  It wasn't a big apartment, (and it wasn't that bad; it was a change from Monarch's cold Manor). Although, it was a standard (as well as just a floor) above Alya and Nino's. The living room and dining room shared the same space and ended  in an open kitchen with a countertop. He moved toward it, his fingers grazing the solid oak as memories flooded his mind.

It was around this exact spot that everything had changed. 

When he had just settled in and finished unpacking his last boxes, Marinette offered to make cookies. 

A welcome gift , she said…

He could take the opportunity to learn how to make them , she said…

Sweet, hot and irresistible, she said…

This was when years of pent up sexual tension had blown up like a pressure cooker (and like Adrien's oven almost did). That day, they hadn't been able to taste the cookies and almost set the apartment on fire (figuratively speaking, they did). And he could definitely confirm that Marinette was sweet, hot and irresistible. (What do you mean she was talking about the cookies in the first place?)

Adrien clenched his hands against the table and let out a heavy sigh. Well… what was done was done, and for now, they needed breakfast… and he still didn't know how to bake… not even the damn cookies so… Heading straight to the door, still careful not to make too much noise, he opened it and left his apartment.

He was a man on a mission.

A mission that didn't quite go half as expected.

“Good choice, Son. These are Marinette's favorite pastries. I'm sure she'll have a very sweet wake up with that. At least, as sweet as it can be for her.” Mr. Dupain's giant body leaned over and whispered in Adrien's ear, “She's not a morning person, but I guess you already know that.” Tom moved back, smiling as he grabbed the package of pistachio croissants and chocolate pecan cookies he had just wrapped for the two. 

Adrien though stayed frozen on the spot. Even more frozen than the perfect pistachio icing adorning the delicious-looking croissants. 

“I… I…” 

Record scratch.

“Save it,” Tom chuckled. “Sabine and I were 19 once.” He winked knowingly before his understanding wife came to save Adrien—or he was innocent enough to believe she would. 

“Can you tell Marinette that we're expecting her for dinner tonight? You're invited too,” Mrs. Cheng enthused with a warm, welcoming smile. “See you later.”

Now if one had to describe Adrien's walk and demeanor as he left the bakery a couple of minutes later, it would have probably been said that he looked like the witness of a deadly crash. Yet, he had simply witnessed how much the Dupain-Chengs cherished him, and how ready they were to welcome him as a member of their family.

Adrien staggered his way to Place des Vosges , reaching for his apartment located just around there. He was still a little dazed by what had just happened with Marinette’s parents and didn't realize when he bumped into someone whilst opening the front door of the building.

“I’m sorry!” His mishap forced his eyes to dart up and eventually recognize a familiar silhouette.

“Good morning, sunshine. Or should I say, good moaning ?” Alya’s brows twitched as her signature foxy-sly grin grew wide. 

Crap. Had Marinette been that vocal last night?

“Alya, please… that’s… hm…” His free hand rubbed at the back of his neck before passing in front of his face and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “...kind of private .”

“Well… If you both want to keep it private, you’re gonna have to tell her to tone it down. Maybe you can talk to her about it over breakfast; everything always goes better with a full stomach.” She looked down and pointed at the package he was holding. “Especially if you took pistachio filled croissants. These are—”

“These are Marinette’s favorites, I know,” he cut her off. “Thank you for your advice, Alya, but I should be fine.” He patted her shoulder and put on his better smile as he walked her by. “Have a nice day.”

“Adrien,” Alya called after him, tone stern. 

This made him stop dead in his tracks and turn around with an inquisitive look.

“If you break her heart, I'll break your bones. I'm not kidding,” she warned him.

Of course, he knew she wasn't kidding. His flesh crept and his insides knotted, cold sweat running down his spine as if the girl had just thrown a bucket full of ice at him. He couldn't help but feel his whole body shudder. It was a lot to bottle up in a short time as both Marinette's parents and Alya thought they were a couple. Which they weren't. 

He didn't want to be part of any sort of couple. He had given up on love, remember? No dates, no feelings, no kisses… Everything planned so he wouldn’t fall into a so-called 'romantic' relationship. 

Swallowing his saliva, his pride, and everything else he could, he nodded with a salute before heading to the top floor of the building, where he lived. When he reached his front door and opened it, a strong smell of coffee wafted through his nostrils straight to his taste buds. Was that what it felt like to wake up every morning with someone by your side? Soft, hot, invigorating? Wait no... that was the effect provoked by the coffee. Only the coffee effect, right?

It couldn’t be because of…

Marinette . 

The woman was gracefully moving in the kitchen area, reaching for mugs before grabbing the samovar and pouring the hot smelling-gorgeous beverage into the two empty cups. 

Adrien’s Adam apple bobbed up and down as he watched her doing so. His shirt from the day before was on Marinette’s body, stopping at mid-thighs, and never had he found that his shirt looked better on someone else than him, until now. She looked absolutely breathtaking. Hence the way his breath suddenly left his lungs in a heavy 'huff', as if he had just crashed to the ground after a fall from the top of the Eiffel Tower, when his hip bumped into the corner of the kitchen counter. 

A hiss passed through the seal of his lips as he leaned over the counter and plastered a fake smile on his face. 

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted him as she handed him the cup of coffee she'd prepared for him. “With a drop of honey, just how you like it.” She smiled fondly, her gaze darting from the cup he took, to his eyes. 

He looked into her eyes for a second, feeling as if losing his soul in the pool of her ocean, before he quickly glanced away. He gulped, berating himself for being so weak when it came to the feelings he strongly wanted to deny.

“Uh… Thank you for the breakfast,” Marinette thanked him in a queasy voice, unease instantly settling in the room.

“Marinette,” Adrien sternly called. Putting a firm hand on top of hers, he prevented her from opening the package containing the aforementioned breakfast he'd brought back. “We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

“Marinette. We need to talk.”

...

“Excuse me but… She said what?!” At that moment, Marinette was relieved she hadn't put her lips on her coffee cup yet. For sure, she would have burned herself and probably would have spit coffee everywhere, and one spitting accident in front of Adrien was more than enough. Although she couldn't be sure she hadn't sputtered on him when she'd suddenly gotten so fiercely upset.

“She said she'll break my bones.” Adrien made sure to enunciate clearly, especially those last three words. 

“No! I'm not talking about Alya!” Marinette waved away Adrien's worries. Her eyes landed on the box containing their breakfast. She tore it open and stuffed a pistachio croissant into her mouth, taking out her frustration on the sweet pastry. “Can you repeat what my traitor of a mother said?!” This time she was sure she spewed crumbs on Adrien, but she didn't give a damn about that. She was too far gone and food helped her contain her 'freak out moments'. If she had heard well what he said…

“She said we're both invited for dinner tonight, and sounded like it wasn’t actually a request.”

Okay. Marinette had heard what he said the first time, and it sounded even worse the second time. Luckily she had food at hand.

She chewed on her bottom lip and nervously fidgeted on her seat before pointing at the other croissant. “Are you going to eat yours?” She asked, her eyes glowing with a maniac glint.

“Uh… no?"

“Great.” She grabbed it and stuffed it into her mouth like she hadn't eaten for a week. All traces of glamor were long gone as she chewed as if her life depended on her father's baking—only his pastries tasted this good and could soothe her nerves. Taking a deep breath, and almost choking on a crumb, she coughed and cleared her throat very unladylike before speaking again. “Great!” she repeated, her voice full of determination and confidence.

Adrien frowned, obviously confused by her antics. 

“We're going to do it,” she said matter-of-factly “We totally can do this. Right?”

Adrien's eyebrows furrowed a little more, as the tip of his fingers drummed Chopin's Funeral March against the counter top . “Uh… yes?”

Was she talking to a broken record or what? Adrien would lose hands down in neither-yes-nor- no game with that demeanor.

“You didn't say no to my mother, right?”

“I could not say no.” 

That was pretty much the rules of yes-nor-no; maybe there was still some hope for Adrien.

“You didn't say no… which means you're with m e in this mess,” Marinette snapped back.

“I guess I am since I wasn't going to tell your mother the truth. Like what? ‘Mrs. Cheng, I'm sorry but there's a misunderstanding, I'm not dating your daughter, I'm just occasionally dancing the horizontal tango with her.’ ”

“You wouldn't dare to say that, would you?” She pointed an accusing half-eaten croissant toward him with a stern glare.

“I wouldn't! Come on, Marinette! That's exactly why I couldn't say no!” Adrien objected as he raised his hands in the air in a defensive move. “I had no tangible excuses to decline your parents' invitation.”

Her croissant left hanging between them as she looked intently at her boyfriend sexfriend, her gaze stern. She tried to gauge how upset she was with him for that situation, only to realize that she was not. She could not.

“Can you please stop pointing that croissant at me and put it down on the table?” His hands made a shield in front of him, showing some discomfort toward the whole situation. 

Marinette glanced at the croissant she was holding like a gun and instantly let go of the poor thing. “Uh, sorry about that.” She felt a blush creeping up her face as she realized she'd threatened Adrien Agreste with a pistachio-filled croissant— her bad. Sometimes she was a creep. 

“Well, don't be sorry… That was kinda… I don't know what that was but… Have you ever thought about joining the bakery police ? Your father's croissants make perfect guns. I'm sure all the evil baked-goods would be petrified ,” he chuckled as he picked up the half-eaten croissant and used the opportunity of Marinette’s deep embarrassment to finally get a taste of her father's sweet pastry. 

Marinette brought her hands in front of her face, burying herself in shame. Her mortification only amplified with every passing second, Adrien still taunting her. “Oh, shut up!” She knew her reaction may have seemed juvenile. The extra nervousness caused her to behave really oddly this morning— back in full force to her younger awkward self. Hello.

“Make me.” Adrien grinned cheekily, his cocky smile turning into anything but uncomfortable—of course, he’d been used to it for years. It even looked like he started to have some fun teasing and provoking her.

Marinette was about to retort when she abruptly paused in mid-track, freezing on the spot, and blinking at him in utter disbelief. Had he just suggested that she kisses him to shush him? What about the ‘no kissing ’ rule which he had decreed in the first place? 

Adrien must have realized his slip-up because he did this thing when he felt embarrassed by the situation: intently rubbing at the back of his head. “I mean… I… sorry for that. Though… If you want us to… uh… do it for your parents… maybe… maybe we—”

“We don’t have to kiss in front of them and cross one of your limits,” she instantly cut him off, setting the record straight. “Don’t worry.”

“But you still want us to go tonight and… fake that we're dating?” Adrien nervously racked his fingers through his hair, reaching again for the nape of his neck.

Indeed, it was one thing to have broken the 'keep it a secret' rule, letting some very close people 'know' or at least, thought they know what they don't really know —and this is getting confusing. But it was another thing to have to actually show up so they don't really.. .know.  

Why make it simple when you can make it complicated?

“Well, as you said earlier we can’t tell them the truth, and you didn’t deny anything so… My parents obviously think we’re dating; they're going to expect us to act like we are .”

“I didn't know it would cause such a confusion. I just bought your favorite pastries, and your parents instantly supposed it was for you because you didn’t sleep at home last night. They caught me off guard with their assumptions.”

“I know and I’m sorry…” Marinette sighed as she picked up a chocolate pecan cookie and grabbed her coffee cup, finally allowing herself to have a not-so-compulsive-breakfast. “They tend to do that sometimes. They always overreact when it comes to my love life. My father once was akumatized because of a date, which wasn’t really a date actually, that I had with...Chat Noir.” Her voice was barely above a whisper when she named her partner yet Adrien heard it very well.

“You once had a date with Chat Noir?”

Adrien seemed so flabbergasted; it was almost over the top. Why was he so surprised? Of course she could get with a superhero…  She was Ladybug after all—not that he would know that. 

Anyway…

“It wasn’t a date. It was… kind of a fake one?” she spoke softly, the last words barely making it through the seal of her pursed lips. “Anyway, it ended up with papa being akumatized and Chat Noir almost not making it out alive.”

“Sounds like something I wouldn’t want to experience. Besides… Should I be worried that you tend to like fake dating hot, blond boys?”Adrien raised a brow as the corner of his mouth quivered a little.

“Who said you were hot?” She soon mimicked his expression and folded her arms over her chest, not even a little impressed by his daring remark.

Adrien leaned over the counter, slowly bringing his lips to his cup of coffee. A spark of mischief and something more glistened inside of his green eyes as he slowly and sensually drank a sip. “I'm surely hotter than the coffee you've prepared,” he eventually boasted, shrugging leisurely whilst taking another mouthful of the beverage.

“That is only because we talked and now the coffee is cold.” Marinette poked a finger against his cup with a teasing grin.

“Is that so, uh?” Adrien left his cup aside and moved his hands along his chest. He began to unbutton his shirt, starting with the button holding his collar neatly closed.

Marinette choked on her cold coffee, the damn drink almost spilling out from her nose and pricking her throat in an unpleasant way. Lately, it seemed like she had almost as much trouble swallowing as an old lady in a nursing home.

“Wh-what are y-you doing?” Damn ! The confidence she had just regained after her freak out moment wouldn’t waver now. She wasn't that weak in front of Adrien! At least, not anymore! She was over the stuttering, the clumsiness, and the over-adoration. And she'd already seen him naked, for God's sake! 

Adrien grinned with lust, not the least disturbed. “I'm showing off the hottest stuff in the room.” He winked at her as he resumed his journey down his torso.

“Is that a challenge ?”

There. Some boldness finally came back. 

“Maybe.” 

Adrien stood up, his shirt soon meeting the floor. His muscular, bare chest mocked and quickly stirred Marinette to her breaking point.

“You know that I never back down from a challenge, right?” She mirrored what he'd just done, using to her advantage the fact that she was still wrapped in the shirt he wore the day before.  

“I know,” Adrien whispered.

At this point, a second shirt joined the first one on the floor.

Chapter Text

“Have you seen my panties?” Marinette bent down to look under the couch. She didn't find anything though. 

“Did you check in the kitchen?” Adrien questioned as he closed the buttons on the sleeves of his jacket.

“Twice! Argh!” She straightened, stomping her foot against the floor as she moved toward the kitchen counter. “We're going to be late!” 

“Isn't that your specialty anyway?” he chuckled, readjusting his collar and trying to stifle his amusement.

The next moment, something made of a soft fabric hit him straight in the face. Marinette started to swear at him like a trucker, muttering through gritted teeth. The sudden blow from the unidentified projectile made him choke on his own saliva, his subdued laughter instantly dying in his throat. The light fabric slowly fell into his hands and he realized that Marinette had finally found her panties. 

Adrien smiled. He spun the panties around his finger, taking in the bright red color and the smooth lace that made it up before looking up. His eyebrows twitched as he grinned at her, mischief glistening in his green eyes.

“Come on, you wouldn't want to go without your panties on, would you?” he inquired in a playful tone.

“Don't you dare!” Marinette hissed.

“You're the one challenging me now, and  “I never back down from a challenge.” 

He echoed her words from earlier today when they competed for the title of the hottest stuff in the room—without any surprise, Marinette had won hands in his pants down. 

Speaking of hands, he put the one holding Marinette's panties in his pocket, sticking the red lace inside of it with a perky smirk.

Marinette exhaled through her nose, pointing a reproving finger at him before she peered down at her dress. 

The dress she was wearing the day before.

A dress, without any panties underneath. This made him grin even wider. 

“Gimme that,” she commanded as she reached for Adrien's pocket and tried to fit her hand inside of it.  

If only she knew how unimpressed Adrien actually was. He prevented her from doing so, not willing to let her get away with this so easily. His left hand then moved on purpose on top of hers and the other one came to rest on her bare thigh, and he suddenly couldn't resist the tempting invitation. He pulled her body flush against his and the tip of his fingers slowly moved up her leg. As he gently stroked her soft skin, his touch brought goosebumps to creep up Marinette's warm flesh. This wasn't going to help to keep himself in check when he had just finished getting ready.

“You’re a fucking dork,” Marinette moaned in a faint whimper.

“You are fucking a dork,” Adrien whispered in her ear, tongue in cheek. “Careful, the order of the words is important,” he said as his hand stilled and groped her behind, giving it a slight squeeze before he moved back. He really needed to cool himself down before they wasted any more time. “Are you ready?” He asked as he grabbed a bottle of wine coming from his own array (he knew Mrs. Cheng liked red wine) before moving toward the front door.

Marinette blinked, looking a bit dazed. Her hands moved to soften the folds of her dress before she grabbed her bag and joined him, wobbling a little on her feet on her way to the door.

“Can I get my panties back?” she asked, hand outstretched in anticipation.

“Mmh.” Adrien put a hand on her lower back, gently pushing her outside of his apartment and locking the door behind them. “No.” 

“Adrien!”

“Fine.” 

Adrien took the red cloth out of his pocket and lowered himself. He gently grabbed one of Marinette's ankles and she clinged firmly to his shoulders to keep her balance as he put her panties back on where they belonged with deliberate slowness.

Although, he very much liked these off.

“Ready?” Marinette asked.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Adrien replied as he turned his head to look at her. She looked a bit jittery as she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Did you just quote Tangled? Seriously?”

“I can't help but joke around when I feel nervous.” He shrugged.

“It's a bad idea. We can't do this. Let's—”

Before he could make out the full meaning of her statement, Adrien had rung the doorbell of the Dupain-Cheng's home.

“—not do it.”

“You should have said so earlier,” Adrien muttered with a sheepish smile.

“I did. But you were too impatient,” Marinette hissed through gritted teeth.

“What can I do? I really like to see your parents.”

“Well, that's nice to hear. Thank you, Adrien.” 

Both Marinette and Adrien were startled by Sabine's voice. Marinette's mother had opened the door without them even realizing it, too caught up in their little discord.

Adrien’s hand went for the nape of his neck, rubbing it with a small smile.

“Good evening, Mrs. Cheng,” said Adrien whilst handing her the bottle of wine. “I’ve been told that your husband liked red wine,” he precised.

“You’ve been told right, Son!” Behind Marinette's mother, Mr. Dupain's broad silhouette suddenly appeared. Marinette’s father reached mid-way, preventing the bottle from landing in his wife's hands. “Oh, wow. If you're trying to make a good impression, you're off to a good start,” said Tom as he took in the label from the vintage bottle which Adrien had picked out: La Dame de Montrose 1998 . The man’s eyes were intently focused on the dark red liquid, growing wide with excitement. 

“Tom, honey?”

The latter hummed, still not taking off his eyes from the wonderful present he just received.

“You’re preventing the kids from coming in,” Sabine pointed out. 

“Oh!” He lifted his head, looking at his daughter before his eyes zeroed on Adrien. He graced him with a large smile and finally stepped to the side. “Do you like red wine, Adrien?”

Since this bottle was straight out from his private collection, of course he did. 

“I do,” Adrien replied as he put his hand flat on Marinette’s lower back and gently pushed her inside. 

He followed suit behind her, a large palm of hand only helping him to come in faster as it slapped in-between his shoulder blades.  

“What are you waiting for then? Let's have a taste.” A second push made him stumble on his feet, almost tipping forward. 

Geez! This man had the strength of a bear! No wonder taking Weredad down had been so hard in the past. Did Hawk Moth even bother to give him additional strength that very day? 

Alright, it had gone wrong for Chat Noir... There was no point for it to turn out that wrong for Adrien. The last thing he wanted to see happen was a Weredad 2.0.  Hopefully, the wine would do the work and bind the two men closer.

To say that wine had brought them closer was an understatement. They were as thick as thieves. They were also as drunk as skunks. 

The bottle Adrien had come with wasn't the only one that had been emptied during the dinner, and now that they were getting to dessert, the mood was more one of banter and teasing between the two men. Not to the utmost pleasure of the ladies in the room; it went without saying.

“You know, Son, Marinette is so stubborn that if I had a dime for every time she did whatever the hell she wanted, I'd be on a yacht sailing off the Caribbean right now.”

“Papa!” Marinette scowled, pounding both her hands flat on the table. “I’m not that stubborn! You’re overdoing it,” she objected.

“There, Mr. Dupain, take a dime,” Adrien chuckled as he quickly stuck his hand in his pocket. He fumbled a little before picking out a coin and sending it rolling over the table, straight to Marinette’s father. “I could have offered the yacht with what was left of my terrorist of a father money, but I bought a moto instead.”

“Alright, first, you call me Tom. Second, do you think I could ride it?” 

“Yes, of co—”

“No!” Marinette shouted. “Not in such a state!” She scolded both of them, looking at her father with a glare before shooting daggers at Adrien. 

“Ah, come on… You’re not fun. We’re doing wine . Besides, I haven't got any money left in my pocket so you can't keep being stubborn.” said Adrien. He nudged her shoulder with a playful smile before wrapping an arm around her and scooting closer. “Also… Are you going to eat your pumpkin pie or are you too fuel for that?” For the record, he had his fork dipped in before she could answer.

“Oh, oh! You like puns?” Mr. Dupain suddenly started to bounce on his seat, like a wine lover receiving a very good and rare bottle—ah, he just had. Scratch that. 

“Ofsh courshe I like punsh!” Adrien bursted out with a mouthful of pie. He paused a second, swallowing before adding, “I'm spot on with these!” He grinned. 

“Ladybug fan, huh?” Tom suddenly frowned with suspicion. “The last Ladybug fan who sat at my table almost ended up reduced into cat food.”

“Papa!” Marinette's face took a shade close to the wine Adrien and Tom had drunk.

Adrien gulped. What had he told himself again? Ah yes... No Weredad 2.0 tonight. 

“Actually, I'm more of a… Chat Noir fan?” 

Tom glared at him, balling his hands into fists on the table. 

Okay, Adrien  might have stuck his foot in there… He swallowed to soothe his dry throat; to no avail. He took his glass of wine, taking a sip which ended up being a one shot. 

“But Ladybug is great too. Both heroes are great. I just have a huge respect for what they have done for Paris.” He tried to save his skin the better he could. “Excuse me, I need the bathroom.”

Wobbling his way out of the table, Adrien fled walked toward the back of the apartment. He really hoped the short break would give him the time to collect his thoughts back together. What he hadn't expected though was for his kwami to show up and pull up his socks.

Chapter Text

For almost a minute, Plagg watched quietly as Adrien unzipped his pants, pulled out his male attribute and peed, before rearranging himself back inside his clothes.

Then the kwami lost it. “You're doing a great job being reckless! Bravo!” Plagg scolded Adrien with a stern glare. “Not only are you putting your identity at risk with your puns, but if Ladybug needs you, in such a drunken state, you could be a danger to her safety!” He hissed through barred fangs.

“Monarch's gone. Ladybug doesn't need me anymore. I'm just good to help her get some if she eventually wants to,” Adrien blurted out before he thought twice about what he had just said. This sounded a bit OOC even for him being drunk. “It would be cheating on Marinette, huh, right?” 

“You'd have to date Pigtails first for that,” Plagg snorted. “Then yes, it would be cheating on her.”

Adrien rubbed the sides of his head with the tip of his fingers and sighed. “All of this got complicated.” His hands slid from his face, gripping the edge of the sink and clenching it while looking at his disheveled reflection in the mirror. “My head hurts like hell.” 

“Serves you right!”

Adrien frowned; it didn't sound like his kwami's voice. He looked behind him but there was no sign of Plagg. He shrugged, turning back to the sink. He washed his hands and took in his poor reflection once more when the voice made itself heard again, followed by a loud knock on the door this time.

“Get out of there, we're leaving.”

Uh-oh . This sounded like upcoming troubles.

Slowly opening the door, Adrien found himself confronting a downhearted Marinette. A sheepish smile popped on his mouth as he looked down at his feet and fidgeted with a hand towel.

“Did I mess the evening up?” he inquired, his features increasingly turning apprehensive and worried as he put the towel back in place next to the sink.

Marinette sighed before her hand suddenly found his, and squeezed it gently.

“It's okay,” she reassured him, her voice growing softer. “The reason I told you what happened between Chat Noir and my father was to prevent it from happening again with someone else. But Papa is so drunk right now that he's already forgotten what you were both talking about in the first place. So it's all good. You won't walk through that door as cat food.” 

“Then, if I didn't screw anything, I guess we can say we succeeded in fooling your parents with our fake dating plan?”

“I guess it didn't turn out too bad,” Marinette mused aloud.

Adrien sighed in deep relief. 

“Now, we just need to find an excuse to break up and be much more careful after that,” Marinette added with renewed determination.

The air which was leaving Adrien's lungs and making him feel lighter suddenly caught in his throat. He now felt as if a stone had just slipped down his throat and fallen straight into his stomach, making it feel heavier than it already was with the strong intake of wine (and pumpkin pie).

“You… don't you think…” Adrien paused, cleared his throat and coughed before continuing, “...we should wait a few more days… so it wouldn't be too suspicious?”

“It goes without saying. That's why I'm going back to your place with you tonight,” Marinette stated. “And you're going to give me your key. There's no way I let you ride your moto in such a state. I'm driving.”

Adrien easily resigned himself to give her his keys and follow her; he couldn't protest against such mindfulness. She was right after all...  All the way ... 

“Marinette?” 

The humming sound coming from his friend echoed in the interior of his helmet, giving him the cue she was listening. 

“You told me you had a date with Chat Noir… Were you in love with him?”

Marinette braked abruptly, Adrien's helmet almost knocking hers in the process. A driver following behind furiously honked at them before passing them, and Adrien realized that maybe he should have kept his mouth shut instead of putting his foot in.  

Picking up speed and continuing on her way, Marinette ignored his question for a while. Or maybe she was just trying to figure out how to answer it, because after a few minutes of silence, the sound of her voice echoed again in his helmet.

“As I told you this morning, it was a fake date. I didn't have romantic feelings for him back then.”

“Back then?” Adrien gasped.

“He caught me… following him... He took me by surprise and I… pretended to follow him because I liked him. ”

“But you didn't?”

“I didn't. I thought he believed I was Ladybug and even though I am not, I've completely freaked out. And you know how I can act crazy sometimes when something's out of my control. I guess we can say that this situation filled the bill,” she explained in a subdued tone. 

“I got it but… why did you say; back then ?”

“Because that was the case at the time. It was all a lie .”

“Would it still be a lie as of today?” Adrien dared to ask. He wasn't sure what he was getting into but curiosity killed the cat.

A beat of silence. 

Marinette parked in front of his building and turned off the engine. 

He guessed that he probably wouldn't get an answer. Perhaps he had pushed his curiosity too far. He knew things that he wasn't supposed to know. Things that were supposed only to be Chat Noir and Marinette's knowledge. Things that Marinette obviously didn't want to talk about. Like actually that real date when they had exchanged a kiss on l'île aux Cygnes before Marinette ended up almost akumatized—by his fault. 

He had quickly realized that things couldn't work that way; it was selfishly putting her in danger and that was the last thing he wanted. Yet, he had never really given up on her, and although she must have thought so because of the lack of interactions between Chat Noir and her after that day (or only friendly one), it wasn't what had happened—not in his heart.

As he was about to get rid of his helmet, not expecting her to give him any more answers, Adrien suddenly heard her speak again in a low voice.

“I'm only lying to myself.” She got rid of her own helmet and stowed it under the opening seat. She cast him a dithering glance, and he realized she was worried he might have heard her. 

He decided to feign ignorance. Especially since he didn't really know what to make of her answer. Was she still in love with Chat Noir as of today? Him? Him!

“Thank you for bringing me back home safely,” said Adrien, surreptitiously changing the topic. He had to keep it together and keep himself in check. 

“Nothing to thank me for. Do you think you can manage to make it up there on your own? I… forgot to bring back clothes for tomorrow. I need to go back to the bakery.”

“I'll be wine.” He grinned. “You can take the moto, it'll be faster.” With that, he leaned in and placed a featherlight kiss on her lips. 

When she hastily pulled back, grabbed her helmet and climbed onto the moto before driving away faster than Valentino Rossi, he knew he had overdone it and messed up again.

He had broken another rule.

Adrien paced the ground of his balcony, cradling both sides of his head and resisting the urge to pull on his hair.

He had broken a rule again . Marinette had just told him she was lying to herself about Chat Noir—in other words, that she liked him, and he'd lost all inhibition. He kissed her right after her admission as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She didn't tell him she liked Adrien, but Chat Noir . And yet, he had overdone it. He had overdone it when he should've stayed utterly impassive. After all, he was the one who didn't want to fall in love ever again. He didn't want to fall in love with her . But it looked like Marinette wasn't the only one lying to herself. Adrien was also good in that matter.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and exhaled lankily. The wine he had drunk didn't help him to think straight. He needed to let off steam, to go running through Paris's rooftops… But if Marinette came back and didn't find him, she would be worried sick. If she ever came back…

However, his train of thoughts and doubts soon found itself interrupted when he caught the shape of a familiar figure in the distance.

His partner, usually so calm and collected since they had defeated Monarch, seemed jittery and all worked up. Adrien frowned in an attempt to adjust his sight to the darkness; in vain. Though, it didn't prevent him from seeing her strut pulling her from one end of the rooftop to the opposite, again and again. She repeated the pattern several times, her prance only growing faster.

Not resisting any longer, he transformed in order to join her. 

As the increased cat vision took place, the night suddenly seemed brighter. He paused, leaning against the railing of his balcony, watching carefully his partner in the distance. In the clarity (and efficient sobering up) provided by the Black Cat Miraculous, he now saw more accurately the way his Lady acted; she chewed on her gloved nails, and when she wasn't, she seemed to have a heated debate with herself. 

Jumping on a nearby roof, and slowly getting closer, he decided to put an end to her mithered state. He landed just behind her, realizing that the place was familiar; it was the one where he had confessed his feelings for her for the first time. His heart tightened at the memory, the thought still a little painful even after so many years. But he was over her now. They were friends. Best friends. 

“M'Lady?” 

She hadn't heard him arrive and jumped at his sudden call. It sent her stumbling backward, almost falling over the railing of the rooftop. 

Almost; he had caught her in the safety lock of his arms just in time before she risked falling off the rooftop.

“Falling for me are we, M'Lady?” he joked as he steadied her back on her feet.

“You scared me!” she shouted as she pushed the flat of her hands against his chest. 

“Sorry for the fright. I thought you heard me coming. You always do.”

“Well, I didn't. I was lost in the din of my thoughts.”

“I saw that. You looked kind of crazy. Such a disconcerting sight to behold if you ask me,” Chat Noir stated. He sat on the edge of the rooftop and patted the spot next to him for her to sit by his side. “Care to share what's bugging you?”

She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a car before eventually sitting next to him. Threading her fingers together, she peered at him from the corner of her eyes before looking at the sidewalk below then back at him. Her mouth fell open, only to snap shut immediately after. Her gaze finally landed and locked on a random spot in the sky, silence settling around them.

When they finally decided to talk, they did so together. Both their voices rising up in the twilight.

“You know… There's a woman—.”

“It's about a man—.”

“Go first, Chaton.”

“No, you go first.”

“You.”

“I insist.” Chat Noir sent the ball back into her court. “Ladies first.”

Chapter Text

“Do you remember… the boy ?” Ladybug’s gaze darted away as she questioned her partner. It was kind of strange to talk about this right where she had first brought it up in the past. 

“Well, how could I forget? This rooftop is the one you told me in no uncertain terms that you liked this other boy,” he stated. Perhaps more tactlessly than she was used to, but she couldn’t hold it against him. She was digging the knife in a wound which probably didn’t need to be reopened. 

Smooth Ladybug. 

“I’m unsure whether it’s a good idea or not to keep up this conversation, you know.” She looked at him and placed a gentle hand on his knee. “If you don’t want to hear me talk about this, I’m willing to listen to you first, Chaton.”

His hand came to rest over hers as he reassured her. “I’m fine, carry on.” 

She looked up into his eyes, seeing the incentive filling them and encouraging her to open up to him about her concerns. So she took the plunge—not a quick dip in the pool, but a deep dive into the ocean.

“I’m worried he might fall in love with me. This wasn’t part of the plan when he and I… got… closer… Very, intimately close actually.” She bit on her bottom lip after saying that. 

A beat of silence. 

Chat Noir blinked at her, pretty flabbergasted by her words, and she had to squeeze his knee for him to finally react.

“ I… I don't… I don't get it,” he babbled.

“I'm having sex with him,” Ladybug blurted out.

“No, no! I mean—” He paused and closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. “I had figured that fact out,” he said in a cringe voice. “Yet… isn't that supposed to be… a good thing?”

“It probably would have been. If I hadn't gotten over him. Or at least, almost over him.”

“Almost?” Chat Noir gasped. “I'm not sure I'm following you quite well. You can't be almost over someone!” He threw his hand in the air as his demeanor became more fussy and his pitch raised . “Either you're over him…” His hands moved to his left to show one side of the options to consider, “...or you're not.” His hands now moved to his right, introducing the second option.

“Are you over me?” Ladybug snapped back, tongue-in-cheek. “Because, it seems that you just told me about another woman, right?”

“I… this… this is a tricky question because it's… complicated.” He wriggled next to her, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the topic. 

Though this was exactly the feeling she wanted to point out. A third option… kind of.

“See? Same problem. Things are complicated because there's another man. It feels like having one foot in two shoes.” She sighed and looked up at the stars, stargazing as if the night sky would give her a solution to her every doubt. 

“Another?” He gasped so loudly that a swarm of pigeons flew not far from them, passing over their heads and making him sneeze twice. 

“Bless you.”

“Thank you,” he muttered with a finger pressed flat under his nose, preventing a third sneeze to come out. “So… another? And are you… are you having, you know?”

“No!” she shouted vehemently before her pitch dropped a few octaves. “We're not. I'm not having sex with two men. It's different with… the other.”

“You love him, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Determination filled her answer, the tone of her voice assertive and confident as her gaze intently locked with his. If the intensity now hovering between them didn't emphasize the truth of her words, she didn't know how to make the underlying message sound clearer. 

Over the months years, he was the other man she had grown affection for.  Through numerous battles, she had seen his bravery, his loyalty, his kindness and his humor (though sometimes unbearable but nevertheless endearing). Through defeats and victories, she had seen the worst and the best of him, and he had seen the worst and the best of her. They unequivocally went through a lot together—enough for Chat's nine lives if you asked her and such trials don't leave you unscathed. They change you forever. They change how you see the world, the others, and even your longtime-repressed feelings… You're eventually falling, getting up, falling and getting up again, and then… when you're not expecting it at all, you're falling once more… but this time; in love … with your hardships' partner . The one who has gone through everything with you… and has changed as much as you have. 

Caught up in the memories of the hard days, it took her a moment to realize that Chat Noir's gaze was trailing down her face and carefully tracing her every feature. As if she was a mirage about to disappear at any time and of which he wanted to paint the smallest details in his memory before she left. She had to admit, it left her breathless.

She couldn't help but do the same, her eyes roaming from the messy golden hair and the intense green eyes to the chiseled jaws which made his face so attractive. She then saw his mouth parting slightly, his bottom lip quivering and Adam's apple bobbing up and down before her nickname made it all the way out.

“M'Lady…” he whispered in a weak voice.

At what point did Chat's breath become so close and warm on her lips? They had undeniably grown closer while they were both lost in their contemplation.

“M’Lady,” he said again, closing his eyes and balling his hands into fists. “Please don't say it's me, I... I can't take this. The other woman... I never felt so happy with anyone else before besides you… but you never see me that way and I… I moved on… not easily… but I'm getting there finally… I like her a lot... I would like to believe that she and I are already building something together even though I didn't want to fall in love ever again... ”

His words cut deeper than a knife. It caused her physical pain to hear him speak that way even though she realized that she couldn't be selfish if he loved someone else. She couldn't start to make him fall back into his past doubts. He had just said so himself; he was finally moving on . 

There had never been a more vulnerable moment settling between them, threatening to upset their entire balance and she couldn't let this happen. 

So she fooled him (and herself) to ease the mood. Recoiling, she faked a laugh to past her lips in hope that he wouldn’t unmask the true emotions she forced herself to hide.

“You?” Her laugh increased, perhaps even a tad over the top to be entirely believable so she collected herself back together quickly, clearing her throat and continuing,  “I'm sorry, Chaton, but I'm not talking about you. You can put your heart at ease with your future girlfriend,” she blatantly lied. 

Her partner sighed in relief, his reaction only increasing the pain she felt inside her whole body, deep down her heart and soul.  The drawback… It had to happen eventually... More painful than a boomerang that would come snapping back at her face. She had turned him down, and it was now his turn to do so. All the blame was on her; she was late and had missed her chance. Speak of ladybug's luck…

Her eyes darted up at the night sky again. She could fly away right now. All it would take for her to do so would be her space power up… but Adrien was waiting for her and it wouldn't be fair to leave him hanging or hangovering in the morning .

“M'Lady?” This time, it was Chat's turn to put a gentle hand on her knee and squeeze her lost thoughts out of her and back to reality. “You know… Maybe you should give the longtime boy a chance. Some men need time to realize what's just in front of them. If you loved him, and a part of you still does, don't hold back his lack of discernment against him. But if you're sure the other man is what you need, then go for it. Don't miss another chance to be happy with someone you really like.”

Ladybug looked back at him, feeling the familiar pringle of tears starting to pool in her eyes. Life was really laughing at her and messing with her miserable fate tonight. 

“I will… I will think about it.” She wiped her wet cheekbones with the back of her gloved hand and stood up swiftly. “Maybe you should ask your girl out and be happy with someone too, Chaton. You deserve to be loved. Besides, any sane woman would fall for your charm.” 

“You're probably insane then.” He snorted.

“Yeah… it must be something like that.” She forced a watery chuckle out of her fake smiling mouth. “Anyway… It's getting late, I better go back home now.  You should probably do the same.” 

Her partner nodded and stood up, his impressive height soon towering her as she rose on tiptoe to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Good night, mon Chaton,” she whispered as she slowly pulled back. Her heart was hammering hard in her chest, threatening to escape her ribcage only for it to try sneaking into his and settle there.

“Good night, M'Lady.” The way he murmured the words sounded strangely like a bittersweet goodbye and left her able to taste the bile gathering in her throat.

Chapter Text

As he moved like a shadow in the night — a broken man's shadow — Chat Noir returned home a tad apprehensive. Hands shoved in the pocket of his cat-suit, he dragged his feet and kicked every little rock or small dirt hanging out on his way.

He hadn't expected to experience another rejection coming from his partner tonight. And although he had decided to move on from her, the reminder of the longtime unrequited love still hurt all the same as in the past years. 

Realizing she had never considered placing him as a choice in her love life had been the final blow though. He wasn't a first choice, but not a second choice either. The boy … A nother man … but no faithful partner appearing in the list. Or perhaps she did put him in—as a footnote; with question marks, erasure smears, and drawings of reluctant smileys all around his name.

Once more, he was torn between not letting himself fall in love ever again or giving love a chance with someone else. 

With Marinette, his treacherous heart (as treacherous as the weather which was leading toward a rainstorm tonight) screamed. The mere mention of her name in his mind made his heart beat faster. Or was it the fact she looked gorgeous with the moonlight silver rays dancing down her raven hair?

Wait. Was that Marinette in the street below, just leaving the parking where he put his moto and getting ready to enter the building where he lived? Damn ! He needed to get inside there before her. But it seemed impossible from where he was currently standing, unless… he slowed her down.

His first impulse was to scream like a damsel in distress. His second impulse was to jump straight on the same sidewalk, a few steps away from her.

“Fancy meeting you here, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he called her out. “Did you move into this neighborhood?”

“Chat Noir,” she gasped in a strangled voice as she turned around to face him.

He had caught her off guard and obviously took the breath out of her. Not only her breath, but he had also taken her tears away. Though, thinking twice about it,

he was pretty sure these weren't meant for him. 

“Marinette? You okay?” Moving closer, he placed a soft hand on her shoulder. 

A gesture she instantaneously dismissed by taking a step backward. “Yes, yes. I'm fine,” she whispered in a shaken tone. Yet the way she furiously wiped the tears away from her cheeks with the back of her hands told a completely different story. “I'm just very tired and in need of a good sleep,” she clarified with a sniffle which she hastily tried to hide with a yawn—the fake (but still working despite it being forced) gesture didn’t fall unnoticed by Chat Noir.

Despite the struggle not to let himself be influenced, the hero ended up yawning mechanically just after Marinette.

“Uh, sorry. I also need to rest. You better hurry up to do the same and not let him wait much longer.” He pointed at a window located two buildings away. 

Marinette frowned, looking at him warily, and he realized that maybe they were things he wasn't supposed to know about.

“How do you know where I’m going?”

Rubbing at the nape of his neck, Chat Noir came with fumbling explanations. “Wild guess? Isn't that where your friend Adrien Agreste lives? You're both pretty close, right?”

“I'm stopping you right now because I know what you're thinking about and…”

Uh-oh, no! He was never going to get away with it and be able to explain how he knew about the secret relationship (which was not actually a relationship but sort of all the same… and this is getting confusing ) that the two had.

“...and you're wrong . I know that you may only see him as Monarch's son, but he is much more than that. Adrien is nothing like his father.”

A sigh of relief that could shake the surrounding buildings escaped the feline's mouth: she didn’t join the dots about him knowing more than he should.

“I know you had to fight against his father for years. It was not fair for you and Ladybug, you were only children after all… but Adrien has nothing to do with what you had to go through. So if you're going to judge me for supporting him and helping him overcome his grief, don't bother.” The way she fought her heart out to support him left him speechless; he didn't know she held him in such high esteem.

“Adrien is a very good friend . ” She kept talking about him with an inflexible pitch. 

Her determination only increased the full extent of her words and the hero soon fell off the wagon: he was a very good friend . A friend. A friend who she slept with. Nothing more. It was his idea in the first place, so he couldn't hold it against her for respecting the rules they had put in place and which he truthfully struggled to follow.

“Marinette.” Chat Noir whispered, stopping her never-ending rambling about their friendship . “Your friend is lucky to have you.” The sound of thunder clattering in the sky muffled his words. He hoped she had heard them because he meant them with all his soul.

Marinette readjusted her sports bag back on her shoulder and wiped a lonely tear from her cheek. “I should go. The rain is coming this way.” At that very moment, raindrops started to pour down on them.  “It was... nice to see you… Chato-Chat Noir.”

“It goes both ways.” He smiled fondly at her and stood still, not sure if he should go for a handshake or a cheek kiss. Or perhaps just a salute? Going for the less weird goodbye (in his opinion) before they ended up soaking wet, Chat Noir took a step back and saluted her with two fingers on the forehead. “Good night, Marinette.”

Somehow, there was an awkward, palpable tension hanging between them and he didn’t know what to make of it. He remembered the words she had told Adrien earlier about Chat Noir and about lying to herself… It didn't make sense if you asked him. She barely knew him. He must have misunderstood.

“Night, Chat Noir.” She was already turning her heels and making his way toward his apartment while his eyes were intently lingering on her back. 

Luckily he had some trouble taking his eyes off her even though the rain was soaking him. A short moment later, Marinette slipped and stumbled backwards, causing him to switch on auto-pilot mode and pounce forward.

Marinette was a full-fledged storm of emotions right now. 

No puns intended with the bad weather. She wasn't in a mood for joking around with her miserable luck. 

Speaking of Ladybug luck, she huffed for herself as she headed for Adrien's apartment. 

Stumbling on her partner (twice) when she just wanted to brood about her poor fate wasn't planned at all. Even less after he had told her about the other woman and that the thought of him loving someone else brought her to sheer tears alone in the dark. And as if it hadn't been enough to torture her, now an old crisps bag with his partner's smug face on it, washed away by the wind and rain, had to get in her way and mock her…sort of.

Marinette groaned at the sight and swung her foot forward, kicking the damn thing away. Yet, the rain ruined her purpose as her shoe slipped on the crisps bag instead and made her lose her balance. Her eyes fell shut as she braced for the impact and another time making a fool of herself in front of one of her men —she was used to it by now thanks to years of practice. 

Although she felt herself falling, she never met the ground. Two strong arms and a welcoming body briskly got in the way and cushioned her fall. 

“It’s okay, I got you.” Her partner's soothing voice seeped into her ears.

She only reopened her eyes once the earth seemed completely still around her and when she felt reassured enough by her faithful savior. His body, solid shield between hers and the cold, damp sidewalk, cradled her petite silhouette in safety. It feels like a hug given to soothe the torment of a bad day. The kind of hug that brought back the overflow of emotions bottled up for far too long. His mesmerizing green eyes filled with concern immediately caught her shining bluebell. The tears had rushed back into her eyes, the closeness they now shared not helping keeping herself in check.

“Did I hurt you?” The sound of concern in her Chaton’s voice was immediate.  

One of his hands cupped her cheek, his thumb gingerly skimming her skin and brushing the wetness away. He mimicked the gesture on the other side of her face even though it was pretty useless; it was still raining cats and dogs on them. Ending up in her raven mane, his claws replaced a soaked, rebellious hairlock behind her ear. The intensity with which his gaze scanned every inch of her face took the words out of her. She was unable to assure him that he hadn't hurt her—at least not physically... Emotionally though, she had another story to tell where he most likely held the first role.

“ Princess, you okay?”

The way he didn't bite on the first cat pun he could have made sounded so wrong; it eventually stirred back some sense of awareness. 

Marinette weakly blinked at him, realizing his face was mere millimeters away from hers. His moist breath fanned her nose and his wild locks were dripping from cold water straight over her forehead. She didn't move despite the cold brought by the awful weather in the surrounding air and the wetness covering her whole face. Actually, a sense of warmth radiated from her partner and kept her rooted on the spot. It felt nice. 

And just like that, her thoughts raced through her head again, unable to keep quiet as they rang a bunch of alarms in their path. But in spite of all the bells ringing in her head, it was only when the thunder loudly rumbled around that Marinette's eyes suddenly popped out of their socket while she realized she was intently ogling her partner's lips. Her eyes flicked to his, distress filling them and she hastily crawled backward. Pulling out from under him, she abruptly got back on her feet.

“You hurt. I mean–I'm not hurt, uh– I need to kiss you–I miss you. Wait, uh– I mean, I need to leave you,” she stumbled over her words like any random prepubescent girl swooning over her superhero partner.

She felt the bile gather in her throat at the prospect she was making her fool of herself again. Not only was she word-vomiting; she would also soon throw up on the sidewalk if her heart didn't stop to play rollercoaster in her guts.   

“Good bye, Chat Noir,” Marinette  whispered, balling her fist tight around the strap of her bag and heading straight for Adrien's place without ever looking back. He can never be Marinette’s Chaton.

Chapter Text

Never a day since Monarch was gone had been so exhausting. She felt as if dozens of Megakumas had passed over her body (or, figuratively, just Adrien Agreste twice in less than 12 hours—or, literally, Chat Noir just a few minutes ago when he jumped on her to save her). The situation she found herself in, stuck between the two men, was time and energy consuming. 

Despite her legs barely supporting the weight of her shaking body, Marinette didn't slow down her strut toward the last floor where Adrien's apartment stood. She climbed the stairs two at a time, furiously wiping her damp face with the back of her sleeve. She flung the door open with eyes for only the warmth of her bed—well… Adrien's bed actually. She really needed to sleep. Reaching the bedroom, she went straight for the bed, collapsing on it like a starfish, when the bathroom's door suddenly opened, disturbing her lack-of-sleep induced coma. 

Adrien was standing there, in the frame of the sliding door, shirtless with a towel tied around his waist. His hair was as soaked as hers. At least, he had a warm shower, unlike the cold one she had outside with the pouring rain. Her wet hair was hopelessly spread over the pillow, her damp clothes soaking the sheets, making her feel all cold despite the hotness creeping in her lower belly. The sight of her handsome sexfriend half naked often had that effect on her. 

“You should take a shower,” Adrien stated as he came closer, “or you gonna catch a cold.”

“Just five more minutes,” Marinette muttered under her breath as she allowed herself to close her eyes for a short moment. 

The next moment, the mattress slumped next to her before she felt something smooth gently stroke her hair. Her eyes instantly snapped open, displaying some deep dumbfoundment: Adrien was using his towel to dry her hair. The towel which... Her thought came to a record scratch as her gaze swept over his naked body from north to south and… the towel supposed to act as the last line of defense to preserve her sanity was gone. 

“You sobered up,” she blurted out, her gaze lingering over his manhood. 

Adrien didn't say a thing though he raised an inquisitive brow and a small smirk popped on his lips. It spoke volumes about the way he had read her behavior. 

Smooth Marinette.

“Uh, I mean–it's nice to see you're big–clean! I mean clean! I also need to clean myself.” A cringe smile stretched Marinette's lips before she quipped and stood up from the bed. “I'd better take my shower now after all!” She rushed straight toward the bathroom and locked herself in in no time.

“Marinette,” Adrien sighed in his bed. Not the long, loving sigh he was used to since he had realized his feelings for her. This one was full of concerns and queries. 

Maybe he'd overdone the wine and gone too far with his teasing and bantering during dinner at her parents' earlier? Or had Chat Noir let his feelings for her show or said something he shouldn't? Both? He clutched the sides of his head and sighed. This was getting nowhere near what they had agreed for in the first place. It wasn't supposed to be complicated and it was getting so much more complicated than anything he had ever known before. 

Nino was right. Women were complex creatures. Dear Lord! Give him a thousand akumas anyday! Fighting—strike, counter, riposte; it was straightforward, effective and without hassles. But the women....the women! It was just the opposite. Although at the end of the day... He wasn't much better. He was the stubborn one who didn't want to fall in love anymore but fell in love in spite of himself…

That was it. He had to accept and face his feelings. He had to stop lying to himself. He was already under Marinette's spell anyway, there was no getting back at this point—no antidote. He could only yield. Not that he didn't crave to do so since they had shared their first time together.

At some point during his introspective, Marinette left the bathroom, all dressed up in a black tight yoga pants and a green crop top. The way she sported Chat Noir's color didn't do anything to calm down the erratic beating of Adrien's heart. Maybe she really did have a thing for the cat-themed hero? It could only be win-win for him, right?

Right?

Marinette slipped under the sheets and he didn't think twice before scooting closer and hooking an arm around her waist. She instantly yelped and that was when he realized he was still in his birthday suit. 

“A-Adrien. I'm sorry but… I'm very… tired.” 

“Don't be! I'm the one who's sorry. I didn't mean to make it feel like an obligation… I was lost in thoughts and…” he paused and crawled off the bed, grabbing a sweatpants which he hastily put on before lying back next to her. “I don't want to have sex tonight either. Actually, I just want to hold you.” 

In the dim light of his bedside lamp, Adrien could see Marinette's eyes widening. She looked like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of a truck while trying to hide from a storm. The sound of the raindrops bursting against his windows only broadened the scenario. 

“If… if you're okay with that… o-of course?” he stuttered. One hand reached for the back of his head, rubbing it with unease. 

“Oh, um, y-yes,” Marinette agreed. Although he had the feeling that she wasn't completely sure about it.

One step at time, Adrien. Don't try to cut corners.

“Can you… can you turn around?” Maybe if she had her back to him she would feel more comfortable with the hug. 

In the glow of the dim light, he got one last glimpse at her doubtful gaze before she turned around. He gingerly shifted closer, his body nestling against hers like two spoons perfectly stored in a drawer. One of his hands slowly traveled up her arm, sending goosebumps in its wake as he searched for a hold of her own hand. Upon reaching his goal, he gently grasped her fingers and entwined them before laying their joined hands against her chest. His face got closer as well, his nose nuzzling her hair as he settled down in her neck. He breathed in deeply, taking a good sniff of her sweet perfume— violet and wild blackberry with a hint of vanilla.  

The way it deeply smelled like home… The way it felt like home… It didn't help him to keep a careful distance so as not to rush her. Quite the opposite actually.

In his eagerness, he placed a soft kiss on the hot skin of her neck. 

The unexpected touch startled her and she flinched, hitting the back of her head against his nose.

“Adrien! Oh my god, I’m sorry!” She turned around at a neck breaking speed as he cradled his nose with one hand, his eyes closed and brows furrowed in pain.  

His eyes snapped open as Marinette shifted around in the bed. “Is it a payback for kissing you without your permission earlier?”

“What? No!” she yelped.

“You look mad at me. Are you mad at me?”

“No, no! I'm not! I was just surprised that you broke your own rule. I hadn't seen that kiss coming. That's it,” she explained in a trembling voice, her hands shaking as much as her pitch.

“Sometimes, some rules need to be broken,” Adrien whispered. His fingers gently rubbed the bridge of his nose as he flashed her a soft smile.

A beat of silence.

Marinette deadpanned for a couple of seconds, her eyelids fluttering in utter confusion. 

Adrien berated himself. She obviously wasn't ready to break rules yet; he should have known better. After all, he was used to her acting weird around him when she felt overwhelmed. This was her defense mechanism. A mechanism that had taken him a long time to understand, and of which he still didn't have the hand yet. His cataclysm, as dangerous as it could be, was much easier to handle. Marinette on the other hand, real time bomb between his caring hands, could cause more damage than his cataclysm if he wasn't careful. He was fully aware of it.

“You know what, I’ll go get you some ice,” she eventually said as she crawled backward.

In a swift move, he reached for her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Please stay,” Adrien whispered. 

“But… your nose…” She looked so sheepish.

“You're overdoing it. It was just a little nudge; the pain is already fading. I'm fine,” Adrien reassured her despite the concern he could see lasting in her gaze. “C'mere.” His arm wrapped around her waist and he resumed their previous position, hugging her back against his torso and holding one of her hands in his.  

“Good night,” he murmured in her ear, his voice slightly muffled by a thunderbolt clattering outside. 

Settling his forehead back in the crook of her neck, he squeezed her hand three times; some kind of secret code for the words he wanted to say but that he stubbornly kept holding back; I love you.

Marinette barely reacted, her own hand giving only one slight press back before turning limp into his. At least, she didn't try to pull away. He knew it wasn't to be taken for granted, yet he couldn't help but let some hope fill and warmth his heart.

“Good night, Adrien.” 

Another thunderbolt echoed in the now quiet room.

Chapter Text

From all the people (read there Plagg, or at most Marinette) Adrien expected to see in his kitchen at dawn, Nino was surely the last. 

Nino, plus Marinette though; this was the pinnacle. A deadly pinnacle if you asked him! Such an encounter was mostly supposed not to happen so early in the morning. Let alone at his place! Not without arousing suspicion (considering there that Alya could have held her tongue for the last 24 hours which was.... more than improbable actually). 

“Did the Scooby-Gang have a meeting scheduled today?” Adrien asked as he slowly rubbed the sleep away from his eyes. 

His still sleepy strut led him toward the kitchen counter where he took a seat on one of the barstools. He fist-bumped Nino who sat next to him before pinning his elbow on the work surface, resting his chin in the palm of his hands as he watched Marinette fussing over the stove. He had no idea what she was up to but it smelled divine; his stomach rumbled, unequivocally agreeing with him.  

“Good morning, Master Chef. What are you up to?” 

“Pancakes.” Her voice was as sharp as a knife, sending shudders down his toes. Turning around, she avoided his gaze and placed three pancakes on the plate in front of Nino, then on his. “Nino was telling me how nice it'd be to have a double date tonight when Alya will be back from the TV studio,” she explained while dropping the last pancakes on her own plate.

“This is a very good idea. I'm free tonight,” Adrien enthused until Marinette's cold— icy —glare fell upon him. 

Uh-oh. It looked like she didn't find the idea that great. He should have seen it coming. After all, she was the one who had said, just yesterday, that they would have to find an excuse to break up. But she also agreed to give their fake dating a little bit more time to make it look tangible. So this double date was a very good opportunity to give their acting skills some credit, right?

Then he could take advantage of the night to make her enjoy the prospect of being with him and eventually change her mind about the fake side of their dating journey. And if need be, they could use an argument during their hang out and put the breakup in. 

It was a win-win for both of them, wasn't it?

Adrien made big eyes at her, hoping that he could make her understand all this without a single word. Basically, she was pretty smart, she would easily come to the same conclusion just by putting her stubbornness aside.

“Isn't it a good idea, Sweetheart?” He couldn't look more intently at her than he currently did. And it went the same the other way around.

She sternly looked him straight in the eye before replying while still firmly holding his gaze. “It is,” she stated.

“Wait.” Nino cut off their interaction.

Marinette and Adrien both froze with their fork dipped in their breakfast before they turned toward him. Their faces paled in front of the inquisitive stare Nino gave them. He couldn't have sensed their unwillingness to come tonight and unmasked their cover, could he?

“Don't you put anything on your pancakes, Dude?”

Adrien blinked at him utterly confused before looking down at his plate, then back at his best friend. Not what he'd expected, and all the better. Saved by the bell—or rather, the pancakes.

“He prefers these plain.”

“I prefer them plain.”

They both spoke at the same time.

“You two are already starting to get disgustingly lovesick. Just everything Alya has been craving for years,” Nino nonchalantly said before sticking his fork into one of his whipped cream-covered pancakes and stuffing a piece into his mouth. The guy was completely unaware of the cutting-edge tension currently increasing in the room. “ Bon appétit , Lovebirds.”

“I have to go back to the bakery,” Marinette told Adrien while busy emptying each of her stuff on his bed. “I didn't pack an outfit for a night out in my overnight bag. Just a pair of skinny jeans, a pair of sneakers, and an old sweater that my mom used to love when she was… about my age actually.” She grabbed said sweater and placed it in front of her to cover her pajama top and cringed.

The sweater was quite simple actually. It was matching Marinette's bluebell eyes and there were four white Chinese symbols across the chest.

“I find this sweater very nice, to be honest,” Adrien admitted. “It suits the color of your eyes.” He couldn't help but let his thoughts flow out.

Marinette intently took in the Chinese writing and shrugged. “I don't even know what's written on it. It could be written that I'm an idiot, for all I care, I wouldn't even know.”

“Carpe Diem,” Adrien read aloud. His many hours of learning and practicing Chinese were at least finally serving a purpose.

“Seize the day,” Marinette whispered, giving clear meaning to his words.

“Maybe it's a sign to tell us not to worry for tonight and to take things as they come, don't you think?” 

He made a move forward and took hold of her sweater before motioning for her to lower her head so that he could help her to put the wool cloth on. 

“Because you, Adrien Agreste from all people in Paris, believe in signs? We both know we suck at this; we've spent years missing the most obvious signs pointing to Gabriel.” Marinette snorted as she put her arms in the sleeve. “Do you want me to tell you what's going to happen if we're going all Carpe Diem tonight?” she asked with a serious stance.

“I'll probably have my wicked ways with you in the restroom before the end of our double date? You're always horny when you're angry.” He raised a challenging brow, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. 

“Well, uh… I…” She blinked at him, speechless. “Whatever. If we're not worrying about what Alya has got on her mind, we'll probably have to do some sort of weird activity; axes throwing or go-karting. We certainly can't go and meet them being all Hakuna Matata or—”

“Actually, it's Carpe Diem .” Adrien held a finger up and cut her off, only to get a stern glare in return. “Nevermind,” he gulped. 

“You do know that Alya and Nino like to go out on dates that are out of the ordinary, do you? They're going to drag us into their madness!”

“I know they do like karaoke.” Adrien shrugged with some nonchalance. 

“That's exactly what I mean: madness!” Marinette squished the sides of her face as she pulled her hair almost off and grumbled. “Wait a minute! Are they planning karaoke tonight?” 

“I don't know.” Adrien lied even though he didn't know why he actually did it. His behavior must have already given him away as he once more used his signature move and racked a hand through his hair.

Marinette’s brows furrowed and she pointed a finger in his direction. “You know something.” She poked the tip of her forefinger against his chest, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. “You’re lying to me. I can tell by the way you're currently rubbing your scalp.”

Indeed, he was obvious. She had a point. 

He sighed and stopped short instantly, his hand dropping at his side. “Fine,” said Adrien as he sheepishly looked at his treacherous hand. “They planned a karaoke.”

“I'm gonna murder Alya,” Marinette muttered through gritted teeth as she hastened to get rid of her sweater. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Don't you like karaoke?”

“Let's just say that.”

“If you can't sing, that's okay. You don't have to go on stage, and I don't have to go either. I'll stay with you to watch the others,” Adrien suggested.

“Because you actually planned to… sing on stage?” Marinette's eyes widened.

“Well, that's precisely what karaoke's made for so… yes?”  Wasn't that the whole point? “But if you really don't want to go tonight, we can just say you're sick. Or I call in sick. Whatever.”

His eyes looked straight into hers, intent on her let down her guard, to break down the walls that she had been rising between them for some days. And if he had to use kitten eyes for it, he would do it without any hesitation. He did it, actually. Wielding the technique with a lot of practice and know-how. He didn't wear the catsuit for no reason after all.

“Fine,” Marinette sighed. “We'll go. Carpe Diem, isn't it?”

“Carpe Diem,” Adrien repeated in agreement.

“Great. But there's still no way I'm putting on this sweater to go out on a date; the wool itches.” She pouted.

A cute lovely pout that just made her lips look even more kissable. Hold your pants, Adrien. She hadn't expected the kiss yesterday, and nothing suggested that she would be more prepared this time.

“Go get ready at the bakery if you want. I'll come and pick you up around 9 p.m.”

“That would be nice.”

“It's all set then,” Adrien stated matter-of-factly. He slowly leaned in and chose safety with a soft kiss laid on Marinette's cheek before pulling back with a smile. “See you later for a ride.” He couldn't help the little twitch of his bottom lip.

“You're incorrigible!” Marinette snapped back as she gave his forearm a small slap. “I can still change my mind.”

“A sweater that itches or a free ride. You'll have to make a choice. Although in my opinion, the question does not even arise.”

“You're a bitch,” Marinette muttered under her breath.

“Such colorful language for a pretty mouth.” 

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me,” Adrien smugly taunted her. He bit on his cheek right after he threw the line but it was already too late. 

What was said, was said. And he had put his foot in it again.

“I… I need to go. Or you know, plain old me… I'll end up being late. I'll see you later.” She turned her heels at a back-breaking speed and ran away. 

Chapter Text

A sudden buzzing sound on Marinette’s sink startled her and made her miss her eyeliner. She looked down at her phone, seeing her sexfriend's name flashing on the home screen. She wasn't late yet. Was she? A quick glance at the time told her she still had thirty minutes ahead of her— child’s play.

But then, what was the urgency of this message just before they met? Her brows furrowed and she put her eyeliner back on the sink, grabbing a cotton ball with one hand and her phone with the other. Her thumb slid over the screen, opening Adrien's message in a swift move to find out what was going on.

[Adrien]:

“Can you wear your beautiful peplum, red dress?”

[Marinette]:

“The one I wore at graduation last year?”

Luxurious tastes, does he? It was the most expensive piece she had sewed so far. It also took her many hours to finally get it done to her liking—including several hours of sleep.

[Adrien]:

“That very one.”

“Without any panties underneath.”

Marinette almost dropped her phone when she read the second message following his confirmation about her dress. He would never give up the idea of her hanging out with him without her panties on, would he? 

[Marinette]:

“Are you serious?”

She stared at her screen and only waited a few seconds before she saw three dots popping in the chat, showing that he was already typing a reply.

[Adrien]: 

“Backing down from a challenge are we?”

She snorted; he must not know her. Not at all.

[Marinette]:

“In your dreams.”

[Adrien]:

“You're not wearing panties in my dreams.”

This man was never short of cheeky replies; teasing and brazenness must've been part of her search criteria to fall in love. Dear lord, have mercy on her!  

She tackled her phone screen down on the sink, only for her to backtrack with a yelp and double-check she hadn't damaged it— she hadn't. Her hand clenched before easing and unlocking the screen saver to write an answer.

[Marinette]:

“…”

Marinette stared astray at her screen meanwhile Chat Noir's background mocked her with his signature smirk. That's right, make fun of me, Chaton... It would be just like you to put me in such a situation... Damn blond boys and their tendencies to fucking tease her to death!

What the hell was she going to reply to top Adrien's last message?  

She looked around the room for some sort of inspiration and started to type something out of the blue.

[Marinette]:

“You're wearing a leather catsuit in my dreams.”

Abort! She couldn't let her feelings for Chat Noir cloud her behavior with Adrien. She couldn't think of her partner while dealing with a fake date with Adrien. She needed her complete focus and to gather her means for tonight.

There was no way she was sending this. She deleted the message and began tapping her thumbs against the side of her phone. 

She had absolutely zero idea what to say, and ended up choosing safety instead of messing this up.

[Marinette]:

“I'll see what I can do...”

And…

Sent!

There was no way she took it back yet she already berated herself for what she had done—and was going to do. What was she thinking when she sent this message? She couldn't just walk through the door of the boulangerie as if nothing had happened—as if she were wearing panties—and stroll down the street with the cold breeze trying to play wind instruments with her… delicate armonica. Could she? 

She wasn't the type to back down after saying something. Even less so when faced with a challenge so… be it.

Going back to her makeup, Marinette opted for something sober focused on the enhancement of her eyes. She then strolled over to her wardrobe, opened it, and searched for the red dress Adrien had asked for. 

“What happened to that damn dress?” she grumbled as she pushed back one garment after another to get her hands on it. 

“It's there.” Tikki emerged from the depth of the wardrobe, pushing a hanger towards her, smooth, red fabric soon ending in Marinette's hands.

Staring at the dress she was holding with shaking hands, Marinette started to doubt whether she should wear that very dress or better not. Weighing the pros and cons of not wearing panties at all was totally justified, you might say, but for a simple piece of red fabric… it was bordering on paranoia. And yet... Marinette had her reasons. 

This dress had a history on its own... the last time she had worn it…

“Someone definitely can't stop staring at you. Come on, girl, go ahead and talk to him.”

“We talked together all evening, Alya.” 

“Hanging out as a core four doesn't count. You both need some privacy. I'm going to unhook my boyfriend from the bar, which might be more complicated than pulling off a newborn from latching on his mother's breast, but for you, I'm ready for anything... then you're going to hook Adrien on your pinky, or on your breast, whatever.”

“Alya!”

“Just try to stop me... I am the mother whose child was torn from her titty.”

Indeed she hadn't been able to stop her best friend and had found herself talking Adrien's ears off while drowning her nervousness in the punch bowl. Which, in her experience, turned out to be a very bad idea. 

Not only had she gotten drunk, but so had Adrien. How, you might wonder? Because she systematically filled up his (barely) empty glass to avert him from speaking—which actually prevented her from answering too many of his questions and eventually taking the risk to make a fool of herself, one way or another.

Until they found another wonderful way to keep Adrien's mouth busy not to talk. 

(Yes, you did understand what was going on in that flashback. Like any freshly, self-respecting graduates, they ended up making out in an empty classroom).

And like any drunk person worthy of this honorable title, and who didn't assume their life choices, Marinette had fled away.

She really did; perched on her stilettos and tumbling three times (three's a charm) on her way out before finally reaching the main door of the Lycée.

And as if a resounding failure wasn't enough, she had to fall on her partner at the next street's corner.

Literally. Her hands flat on his chest, a shoe now laying apart on the sidewalk, and her dress half raised on her hips. Hips where two strong, clawed hands were resting while gently replacing her dress appropriately—ever so the purrfect 

(Wait. Had her inner voice cat-punned that day? Probably considering her drunken state) gentleman even in such jarring situations. 

“Ah. Hum. Uh…” 

Had she broken her partner that day? Thinking back about it, it was more than likely close to that. 

“Fancy meeting you here.” 

The hero was probably redder than her dress—so much for her own embarrassment which only increased as she reached a shade of red that must be unknown to the human race. 

“Chat Noir! I'm soooo sooooorry, let me… let me just–just–just…” She tried to stand up only to fall chest flat against his torso, her hands not even bothering trying to sustain her—the traitors! “Soooooorry!”

“Do...you, uh… do you want a lift?”

Would her stomach withstand the rollercoaster ride? She wasn't sure about it. She wasn't even sure she could stand up without disturbing the liquid that was peacefully bubbling in her belly and currently enjoying a free spa. 

“Actually, I'm fine here. Five… by… five.”  

But Chat thought she would be better off in bed and after five minutes of arguing like an old married couple, he straightened up and lifted her up, causing the bubble bath to overflow. Read there: causing her to throw up.

Like any self-respecting heroine (and just like the day they took Monarch down—only a few weeks before graduation day actually.) Marinette didn't miss her target. Not that Chat Noir knew it was Ladybug actually drenching him with vomit (which didn't look anything like magical ladybugs—what a pity, it might have made him forget the mess she had just done on his super shiny cat-suit).

Again, it didn't take her long to take her heels and run scared, and even transform in her hurry (far from prying eyes though). 

She had hoped her power and her ladybug luck would help her sober up a little. Thus far, she still doesn't know if it really helped. In any case, Ladybug's luck had to be a myth, that much was sure. The only place that she had chosen to take the time to collect herself back together (L'île aux Cygnes), was the same place that Aqua Noir had chosen for a midnight swim. 

“L-Ladybug? Wh-what are you doing here?”

“What about you?” She had always been taught that answering a question with another question was the power of cowards. And tonight, she shamelessly was one of them. 

Although she knew why he was here. She knew that he didn't know she knew (and this was getting confusing for her tipsy brain) Marinette had thrown up all over him like a newborn could do it to her mother when she least expected it.  

“Hm. Graduation's mishap.” Aqua Noir shook out his damp hair and came to sit next to her. “You're damn smelling alcohol, Buguinette.”

“Hm. Graduation's mishap,” she repeated.

“Do… Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No. Do you wanna… talk about it?”

“No.” 

They both remained silent for a while after that last closed dialogue, looking into each other's eyes as if they were each other's only way out from their inside turmoils. Until they made out again without knowing they were actually doing it again .  

Once more that night, the awkward situation ended up in a 'we don't talk about Bruno this anymore' way. Both of them firmly kept denying wh a t had happened. It wasn't them. It was the alcohol.

Bullshit! You bet their ass it was…

And so Marinette reluctantly put on the famous red dress (without any panties underneath) she wore on graduation day... After all, she couldn't do any worse than that pitiful night, right?

Right? 

Chapter Text

Adrien's system crashed the mere second Marinette walked down the stairs. To say she took his breath away was a severe understatement. The poor guy couldn't reboot properly and could already feel the drool tickling the corner of his mouth. 

Seeing Marinette like this took him back a year, indulging him in his priceless if bitter, memories. 

That evening was to be marked with a white stone (or should he dare to say a red flag?) Not only had he kissed Marinette Dupain-Cheng (before she vomited on him), but he had also kissed Ladybug (after taking a midnight dip in the Seine to clean himself up). At the end of the day—night; both all red-suited-up girls had ended up running away from him, not daring to talk about what had happened ever again. Hence the red flag.  

It was that very night he decided not to fall in love anymore. 

You bet, idiot. His inner voice snorted so loud the pig-like noise made him grit his teeth. 

It had taken him months to get over Ladybug, all the while knowing that a small part of him would never get over her. She had stolen a piece of his heart the day they met and nothing, nor anyone, could ever change that. It was set in stone. Yet, he managed to be her best friend. And she was his best friend. 

Then, there was Marinette. The closer he got to her, the more he tried to get away, only to end up even closer. One step backward, two steps forwards— funny when you know most human beings tend to do quite the opposite; and he probably should have done it that way instead. Because every time he got close to her, he acted crazy. He was into Marinette like a train. A train that had forgotten to stop at the 'just a friend' station and had taken the 9 ¾  route to ride the 'with benefits' line. 

Adrien should reconsider his definition of friendship and the boundaries of the friendzone. His petty inner voice took a wicked pleasure in reminding him that it was time for him to open a dictionary.

Best friends don't kiss.

Friends don't fuck together.

Okay, maybe his inner voice was right.  Maybe he had some trouble keeping a healthy friendship with both blue-eyed women. But at least, he managed to keep them both a constant in his life. Regarding his liabilities and all the people he had lost, that was already a big win. And even if it wasn't perfect, he could do with that. 

He could. 

Right? 

At the very moment Marinette got closer and brightly beamed at him, causing his heart to skip a beat, he knew he was a fool and could not .  

“You… you okay?” she asked.

Her soft voice and the gentle touch of her hand on his shoulder took him out of his rêverie. 

“I knew it was a bad idea to wear that dress,” she muttered.

“No, it's not!” Adrien yelped. His hand came to rest over hers before taking it and slowly moving it to his lips. “You're… absolutely stunning .” His mouth grazed her skin, gingerly kissing her knuckles, the touch causing her to shiver, so he hastily removed his jacket and placed it around Marinette's shoulders. “There. It's a little cold outside,” he whispered as one of his hands slid down her lower back, gently leading her toward the front door. “Shall we go?”

“Yes,” she whispered, a shy smile stretching the corner of her mouth.

“Have fun, and stay safe . I'm sure you know the drill and don't need that talk.” Marinette's mother winked knowingly at them, and he could feel Marinette's back tensing under his touch as her smile turned into some kind of cringe pout.

“Don't drink as much as the other night,” Tom Dupain warned him. “You don't need that talk either,” the man echoed his wife's words with a finger pointed at Adrien. “Wait, honey. Are we talking about the same kind of talk?” he inquired as he turned around and looked at his wife.

And that's the moment Marinette and Adrien chose to sneak away before risking that talk. Whatever it was.

“When did you get a car?” Marinette gasped in front of a black, shiny, and a rather luxurious sedan. “I thought you used what was left of your father's money to buy that expensive bike of yours?”

“That's it. I've washed out Gabriel's money in a charity for orphans… and a big bike. And there's still all the money I earned from 4 years of intensive modeling. It was locked in an account until last year,” Adrien explained as he shrugged. “How do you think I pay my rent and my groceries?”

“I hadn't thought about that,” she muttered under her breath.

Adrien chuckled and walked toward the doorway, reaching out to open it for Marinette.

“I rented that spacious car and the driver for us tonight. I thought it would be more fancy for a first date,” he blurted out until he froze midway while opening the car door. “I mean… I know we're supposed to be fake dating, but it can also be a real date… If you'd like it to be? I have some Champagne.” He knew he had to sound and look downright hopeless at the moment, but he couldn't help it.

“Adrien… I... I don't know if it's a good idea…” 

His shoulders and neck slouched with the hard weight of her words. 

“...but…” 

His head perked up, looking at her with shiny eyes.

“...We can... uh… maybe we can give it a try for tonight…” She sounded unsure but he would ease her doubts. 

It was up to him to prove to her that trying would be worth it.  Every battle was worth it, and worth the risk, for his Ladies . The battles where he could, eyes closed, give his life to protect Ladybug, just as the one he was ready to fight, a hundred times, for Marinette. 

His gaze followed her petite silhouette as she was about to enter the car. Every move she made seemed overly measured and almost too… careful. He frowned as he studied the awkward way she used to finally sit on the backseat. It was as if she was afraid that her dress would lift up and reveal her panties. As if he had never seen her panties befo—oh dear, that's when it hit him. She wasn't afraid to show her panties. She was afraid to show no panties at all.

Heads up, Marinette had followed the lustful desire he had revealed in their texting exchange—Plagg was his witness; Adrien had berated himself immediately after he confessed his 'no panties dream-date' .

As much as Adrien deeply wanted their relationship to turn into something more, something romantic; with dates and kisses, and making love to her… as much as he was a clutz sometimes. 

S exting her instead or lovetexting her— off to a great start to woo her, Agreste!

How could she not get mixed signals with that? Talk about an ambiguous relationship… He was actually nurturing that ambiguity unbeknownst to him. 

He had to save the day and show her that he could resist this delightful temptation, that he could resist her charms. There was more to life than just sex—wonderful sex, by the way. Nevermind. God have mercy on him! This was much worse than Adam trying to resist the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. 

“So-some Champagne?” Adrien asked, his throat suddenly feeling very dry.

“I'd love to.”

Adrien gave the driver a surreptitious glance as he fired up smoothly. He then  grabbed two flutes and handed one to Marinette before grabbing the Champagne bottle in its bucket of ice (bottle which had been opened and placed there by the company's care, fortunately. He wouldn't have liked his first date to be in the emergency room after having blown the cork in Marinette's eye.) 

With his shaking hand, he slowly poured some bubbly, golden liquid into Marinette's flute. The tip of his tongue darted out at the corner of his mouth as he focused on not spilling a drop out of the glass. He was a man on a mission. A mission he had succeeded in.

His inner voice, some sort of half angel, half demon, did a victory dance. But the little dancer rejoiced from his victory a bit too quickly, and he stumbled over his feet— okay, let's stop the metaphors .

Actually, the driver passed a speed bump and the jolt of the car sent a little Champagne out of Marinette's flute. The golden beverage landed straight on her thigh, sparkling bubble glistening and trickling down her bare skin.

“Oh, no. What a mess. Wait.” Adrien looked around him in search of something to mop up the Champagne—to no avail. 

Leaning in a little, he delicately put his hand on her thigh. 

Marinette gasped at the sudden touch whilst he recovered most of the liquid with a rub of his thumb before awkwardly bringing his finger to his mouth, cleaning it. The way she intently looked at him as he did so, sent shivers running along his spine and down to his toes. 

There was nothing left to clean on his fingers, but his tongue kept moving along his bottom lip as his eyes locked with hers.

“Aren't you… aren't you going to finish what you started? It's still a bit sticky on my skin.”

Adrien couldn't help the sudden intake of breath as he blinked at her, somehow bemused, before his hand eagerly recovered a place on her thigh. His free hand then pressed the button to raise the screen which separated them from the driver, and eventually trapped them in a bubble of their own.

She had no panties on, and he was just a man after all. A poor weak man… standing in front of an oncoming train.

Chapter Text

Marinette smoothed the folds in her dress and pulled on the hem to replace it atop her knees, holding it with one hand, and making sure that her lack of panties was out of sight. The last thing she wanted was for her to offer the passerby a remake of Marilyn Monroe's famous dress lift. 

After she made sure she fixed her clothing, she busied herself to tame a rebel hair strand coming out of her bun. As she fumbled around, she felt a hand gently slipping on the small of her back, and she couldn't help the sudden gasp. Not only from Adrien's touch, but the way his free hand unexpectedly came to help her pin the wild strand of dark hair back in place. 

“And there you go. As if nothing ever happened. And it never did.” Adrien winked at her but she could somehow sense some bitterness behind his words. 

It sounded like something she could have said when she ran away from Adrien after they'd kissed on graduation day. Not that she could remember how she had told him off; she was drunk. Though it must have been something along those lines, and she now realized that she must have hurt him unbeknownst to her.

“I'm sorry for running away after the graduation party,” Marinette jumped in, finally apologizing. What she should have done months ago.

“I don't know what you're talking about. Nothing happened.” The warm touch of his hand against her back suddenly faded away, leaving her shivering as he put some distance between them.

“Can we stop the ‘we don't talk about Bruno attitude’ for a while? There's something we need to sort out here…”

“Shall I remind you that you were the one who didn't want to talk about it, ever, Marinette?”

“That's my understanding, and I'm sorry about that. The way I acted was childish and selfish. We should have talked about our… slip-up… earlier.”

“And say what?” Adrien's eyes bore into hers, stern and inquisitive.

“I just… I… I don't…” 

His deep stare disarmed her so much so that she even felt her legs starting to wobble; she didn't know a single look from Adrien could still hold such power on her.

“...I don't know…” Marinette's head dropped as she looked down at her stilettos, fleeing from his expecting gaze. “What would you have wanted to hear?” 

“Marinette.” His hand came to graze her chin, two fingers forcing her to look back at him. “It wasn't what I wanted to hear that mattered, but what you didn't tell me, or what you could have told m—”

“Look who's finally here and only… 3 minutes late! This is worth a record in the Guinness book! Sunshine , you're doing her the greater good!” Alya almost ran into them and locked them both in a bone-crushing embrace. When she pulled back, a smirk graced her lips. “Well, I guess you're doing her good in every possible way.” She winked at the two before lacing her arms with Marinette's and pulling her toward the legendary bar-karaoke where she and Nino spent most of their time during weekends.

After a bro' fist bump and having greeted Marinette, Nino slid to Alya's side and took her hand in his. Marinette smiled at the perfect couple picture before looking over to where Adrien was walking beside her. Her hand moved instinctively, seeking his as a sign of truce. Her fingers slipped between his, squeezing them gently but Adrien didn't react, his hand limp. 

She had really screwed up this time, and a quickie in the car or in the restroom would not fix that. 

She squeezed his hand once more, a futile attempt to let him know she was sorry and was still there for him. Holding his hand was what she had always done, ever since he had first started to stand up against his father. Ever since his father had turned out to be the bad guy, and Adrien, the fool of the joke, unbeknownst to him. Even if her feelings were mixed and confused, it didn't change the fact that she would always stand by his side. 

“You owe me deets, and they must be juicy to make up for not answering any of my phone calls for days ,” Alya whispered in Marinette's ears, pulling her out of her turmoil as she leaned closer. “Even Nino got to see you together before I did. I feel kind of betrayed.”

“But you knew what was going on before Nino…”

“But you still tried to hide it, Miss Messy Buttonholes . Doing it in a coffee shop restroom... I didn't think you had it in you, girl.”

Beside them, Nino snickered so loud that he almost choked on his own saliva.

“Alya!” Marinette hissed. “This is not the place, nor the time to talk about this.” 

“You should have thought about that when you denied all my calls. I'm gonna hunt you down from now on.”

Her best friend let go of her arm, and just so Marinette knew she was keeping an eye on her, Alya placed two fingers to her eyes before firing them back at her in a very expressive gesture. She then walked ahead with Nino, leading them the way as they arrived in front of the karaoke bar. 

As soon as their friends moved away from them, Adrien let go of Marinette's hand. She could instantly sense that he was still upset and that he wasn't going to pretend tonight—which was a problem when you were actually supposed to pretend. 

Their fake dating was a tightrope walker balancing himself on a thin wire. And let's not even talk about the possibility of a real date that had just taken a tumble. 

Maybe they would have to fake their breaking up tonight after all… They might have no trouble pretending that given the recent developments.

To say that the tension between the two friends with benefits was tangible was an understatement; the electricity in the air was as thick and hard as the ground beneath their feet.

While Alya and Nino were having fun massacring a lot of classics of French songs, Adrien stared absentmindedly at the tip of his fingers drumming the different measures on the table. Meanwhile, Marinette relentlessly nursed her tea bag in her cup as if trying to put a newborn to sleep. 

“We're dedicating the next song to our friends, Marinette and Adrien, who have finally stopped playing that dumb 'I love you, me neither' that had been going on for as long as I have known them.”  Alya was really taking it to heart. 

Seizing the opportunity to cross the T's and dot the I's with Alya about the nature of her relationship with Adrien seemed invaluable at this point. She needed to tell the truth to her best friend before she overdoes it. 

She already did, Marinette thought whilst the first notes of ' Je t'aime, moi non plus…' sung by the star couple , models of love formed by André le Glacier, Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg started to play.  

Alya and Nino both led off a performance worthy of a blooper coming from American Idol—or maybe from a porn site if you listened closely to the song's explicit lyrics 🔞. 

«You go, you go and you come

Inside me

You go and you come

Inside me

And I join you

I love you, I love you

Oh yes

Me neither…»

It may have been one of the most beautiful and famous French songs of all time, yet it didn't prevent Marinette from feeling utterly embarrassed. A quick glance to the side, and the sight of a pair of very red cheeks, told her that Adrien was feeling the same. For a second, their eyes met before they immediately looked away, and… they both instantly darted their gaze away again as they realized the show on the stage was also pretty embarrassing, to say the least.

The audience, though, seemed to love their friends; thunderous applause broke out for the couple at the end of their performance.

Marinette, for her part, felt a real relief when the cacophony finally stopped. Yet, the relief was short-lived when Alya came down from the stage, asking begging Marinette to perform with her on ' Lady Marmalade '. 

It was clearly out of the question for her to make a spectacle of herself. 

First thing first; she couldn't sing.

Second; she wasn't going to make a spectacle of herself on such a song in front of Adrien (besides, she had already made a fool of herself for a lifetime in front of him—and even maybe for a second life).

Third; did she already make it clear she couldn't sing anyway? 

“Come on girl, who cares if you can't sing?! We're not doing any better. Nino's voice sounds like it's coming through a cheese grater, so what? 90% of the nation likes cheese, so it's all good!”

“10% are dummies.” 

“What?” Marinette and Alya's voices echoed as one. 

Since when Adrien's voice was so raspy? His pitch suddenly sounded like shredded cheese. 

“Um, sorry…” Adrien banged his fist on his chest, his brows deeply ceasing as he coughed, clearing his throat. “...frog in the throat.” 

Both women kept staring at him, their inquisitive gaze urging him to repeat what he had said in the first place.

“Uh, I said… my voice sounds like… gummies,” he gulped with a slight stutter, his acting skills suddenly leaving a lot to be desired. 

“Boasting are we, Agreste?” Alya raised an unimpressed brow. “All right, take the mic then. The stage is yours; make it shine… Sunshine .” 

Marinette watched Adrien reluctantly take the mic that her best friend was holding out to him, his expression somewhat utterly pissed off.

“Ah, um, sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his lips pursing and brows furrowing.

Definitely pissed off. 

Chapter Text

If Adrien had first wanted to use their outing at a karaoke bar as an opportunity to serenade Marinette tonight, the idea had soon become wishful thinking. But thanks to Plagg's love for cheese, he was now forced to find something to sing anyway. 

After an hour of sulking with Marinette, he was surely not in the mood for anything romantic. Especially not when she ran away anytime he tried to bring her feelings for him (or whatever came closest) up. It felt like bumping into an increasingly solid wall, and if they both continued that way, Adrien would end up with a concussion along with his broken heart.

Unless he could reach the core of the solid wall she had built over the past months... If he couldn't get her to open up and talk to him... Maybe he could get her to listen and eventually get his words to break through the bulwark sheltering her heart.

“Have you chosen what to sing?” One of the musicians called out to him as he absentmindedly flicked through the songbook.

“Just a minute.”

The French repertoire… No. Alya and Nino had already covered most of it anyway. Besides, there was something about singing in English that thrilled him. Especially love songs or bittersweet ones—kind of melancholic.

That was it. Maybe his pain could speak to hers. If she saw how much they were both suffering from the situation, it could perhaps lead them to finally get it off their chest once and for all.

Skimming faster through the songbook, he ended up finding just what he was looking for; the perfect song and story to reflect the mirror of his sorrowful thoughts.

“This will be the one.” Adrien pointed to his choice. “I'd like to play it alone. If you agree to let me have the synthesizer, of course.” Renewed determination sparkled in his eyes 

“You know how to use it?”

“I'm used to play the piano, I know it's not the same but—”

“You want to impress the beautiful Lady you came here with tonight, huh?”

The choice of words made him flinch. Well, he had to get used to the fact he was pretty unlucky with the ladies then.

“I'm afraid she wouldn't even be impressed,” he sighed. “But I still have a message to deliver.” He peered above his shoulder, stealing one last glance at Marinette. His gaze then moved to the crowd, whispering and muttering because he was probably taking too much time for their liking. 

Eventually, he found himself alone on stage and slipped behind the synthesizer. 

There was nothing more to say, now his heart would speak for him. Hopefully.

Cracking his fingers, Adrien then let the back of his hand gingerly brush the keys without ever making them sound. He took a deep breath, placing the mic in front of his mouth before hitting the first note and starting to sing.

«I need somebody to heal

Somebody to know

Somebody to have

Somebody to hold

It's easy to say

But it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain»

The words instantly started to pour out of him like raindrops falling on a cold, showery day. The more he went, the more the rain soaked everything in its path. A treacherous, slippery path, ready to take down anyone crossing it. 

«Now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved…»

His gaze searched for Marinette's, locking with her widened bluebell as his fingers got more jittery.

Growing huskier, his voice conveyed an array of emotions as bitter and dull than the black and white keys he was currently hitting. 

«I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to turn to

This all-or-nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you

Now, I need somebody to know

Somebody to heal

Somebody to have

Just to know how it feels»

Painful . It felt painful. Even more painful when she headed for the exit before the end of the song. 

An end? What end? This one was cut short as he stopped dead in his tracks to run after her. 

If anything deserved an ending tonight, it was this whole mess between them. The misunderstandings, the lies, the unsaid… 

It was all coming to an end tonight .

“Marinette, wait!” A thunderclap suddenly muffled Adrien's call. He could only increase speed to catch up with her and call out again, "Marinette, please!” He reached for Marinette's wrist and grabbed on her sleeve, only for her to snappily pull away from his grasp as if trying to get rid of a pickpocket. 

“Leave me alone, please!”

“Come on, aren't you tired of running away?!”

Marinette turned around so quickly that his own neck hurt for hers.

“Are you kidding me?” Facing Adrien, she glared at him and stomped a foot on the ground. “You spit your venom at me, wholly singing for everyone to hear, and you want me to stay, swallowing it until it eats me to the bone? Seriously? You've got some daring nerve!”

Jaw hardening and eyes darkening, she finger-threatened him as though she was about to jump at his throat. Then eventually, she backtracked, partially turning away from him, and looking into the distance. “Stay… that's what I've done up to now. When your world fell apart after your father’s arrest, I was there for you; more than anyone else.” She looked behind her, her gaze undoubtedly staring at their friends laughing through the window of the karaoke bar behind her. 

She had a point. Marinette had been there more than anyone else. And without wanting to use comparisons unfairly; he didn't blame anyone but his father for everything that had happened. Marinette had been there for him even more than Nino had.

Racking his fingers through his hair and moistening his lip with his tongue, Adrien tried to save it. “You know that's not what I meant. I can't thank you enough for all the support you've given me this past yea—”

As he tried to get closer and put a gentle hand on her shoulder to temper the arising argument between them, Marinette turned back to him again. He recoiled, taking back his hand as he saw her previous anger fading into irritation. The storm was far from over, and considering the disappointment glinting into her eyes, it wouldn't let them get away unscathed.

“Thus you don't get the right to tell me that I am running away. Whatever rough path you're going through at the moment, I’m still hanging in there, but this one time, you're going overboard, Adrien!”

“You say you're there, but you're not actually there. You barely talk to me. I only have the picture: it’s like watching a show without the sound on.” Adrien waved a hand in front of her as though he was showing a technician what was wrong with his broadcasting.

“You certainly know something about sound, I definitely heard what you had to say tonight. Nice performance.” Marinette clapped her hands together, starting slightly before clapping with renewed vigor, mocking and applauding him with a bitter smile. “I know I said we had something to sort out, but I didn't expect you to do it without giving me the chance to say something back. It takes two to have a conversation,” she stated as a matter of fact.

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Adrien mumbled through gritted teeth. This time, she was the one who crossed the line with her typical denial. “You're right. It takes two! Something that never happens with you because you always run away from the subject and I'm always left alone wondering if, one day, I will finally get answers. I'm tired of being taken for a ride !”

“Don't you dare joke around about that with your stupid puns! You're the one who brought this little arrangement up; all sex, no dates, no kisses, no feelings. I'm just sticking with the plan when you keep changing the rules as you see fit!” Uh-oh… The threatening finger was back poking his chest, along with some sort of killer glare (which wouldn't even kill a bug by the way). “This isn't fair, and you know it!” 

Well, when it came to what was fair or not, the wrongs seemed equally shared lately.

“You leave me no other choice but to act since you don't want to talk to me, Marinette!”

“We don't need to talk to have sex.”

“But I want more than that!”

“I don't! I can't!” The finger that weighed on his chest balled into a fist, pounding against his torso. 

Adrien looked down at her silently as her eyes quickly caught his. They stared at each other for a moment which seemed suspended in time. There was a mixture of sadness and anger painting both of their faces. Tears pooled into their eyes and mingled with their disappointed glare.

“Why did you kiss me on graduation day?” Adrien broke the sound of silence with a question straight out of the past, yet with a wound that was still present.

“I…”

“Say it, Marinette. No more lies.”

“I… I used to have a huge crush on you back in Collège and Lycée.”

“Why didn't you tell me that instead of running away?”

“I felt ashamed from fooling around with you. I… That night, I…” Marinette paused to take a deep breath, only for a grunt to mingle with the puff she breathed out. Her fingers delved into her hair, pulling on them as they drifted down her face, almost scratching her skin. “That night, after I ran away… I took shelter in someone else's arms… I… I kissed someone else. Someone who was, and is still, preventing me from loving you fully as you deserve. What does that make me?! I'm a—”

“A human being,” Adrien whispered, all traces of judgment long gone. He had done the same after all; kissing someone else that same night. 

After Marinette had run away, he had leaped over Paris's rooftops. He would lie if he dared to say it wasn't in hope of finding solace from his Lady. Eventually, he had found much more than some friendly comfort. He had been welcomed by the warmth of her arms as well as her lips and their tight embrace. Though the peace he had found was short-lived; Ladybug had ended up reacting more or less the same way as Marinette did, and they had never spoken of that night again. 

Both situations, barely an hour apart, had been pretty peculiar now that he allowed himself to think about it. And even if he had tried to dismiss this crazy idea in his head, enjoying the first kiss he wouldn't be forced to forget with Ladybug, it had seemed to him that his partner tasted a little sour. Like, puke. Yet, Marinette had vomited on him shortly before he ran into Ladybug. Ladybug who also had her graduation that day, and obviously some 'drunken party misshapes’ she didn't want to talk about.

The crazy idea seemed even crazier now. Yet it made sense in their crazy… lives.

Trying to recover from the revelation that was slowly coming to him, Adrien took a step forward and cautiously tried to grab Marinette's hand in his. Though she flinched backwards. 

“Marinette, please~ I lov—”

“Please, don't.” She sternly cut him off. “I can't have you. Neither can I have him. I thought a physical connection with you and that unique emotional bond with mon Chaton would allow me to keep you both , but that was selfish of me. My indecision can't continue to hurt the two wonderful men I love.” Marinette looked down at her feet, her fists clenching at her sides. “We shouldn't have made our little arrangement. We never should have. Sometimes people leave because they need to think…” She paused, looking him straight in the eye, a lonely tear rolling down her cheek. “Sometimes, they leave because they thought it through. I’m sorry, Adrien. It’s over.”

Marinette turned on her heels and ran away as quickly as the revelation made its way into Adrien's head and heart. 

She could have both and he was going to make sure she would .

Chapter Text

Marinette, well Ladybug, had taken refuge at the same place as after the graduation party. She didn't know why. Maybe because underneath her Ladybug costume, she was wearing the same dress? Maybe because the same pattern seemed to be helplessly happening over and over? Every day, every moment, reminded her a little more that she could never be happy in love. Not if it meant making a choice that would partially break her heart either way.

Knees folded against her chest, and her whole body slowly rocked back and forth. She was at the end of her rope (no pun intended), emotionally exhausted. It's a good thing Monarch was no longer part of the equation or she wasn't sure she would have lasted until today.

She fiddled with one of her earrings; she had thought of giving up more than once but had always held out for her partner. Chat Noir didn't deserve to be left alone because of her own selfishness. 

Ladybug could already hear him protest if she would do so. “ M'Lady, we need to talk this through right now!” He would say. It actually sounded like she could hear him at the very moment, and it was accurately along those lines. Her partner's voice echoed in her ears as if he was standing next to her, waiting for some clarifications.

“M'Lady. We need to talk.”

Of course, he would want some clar— Wait . This wasn't playing in her mind, the pitch of Chat's voice was so close and palpable, it sent shivers deep down her spine. 

She looked up with a surge of apprehension, only to be met by two stern and concerned cat-like eyes. 

“We really need to talk,” her partner repeated.

“Oh no. Not you too,” Ladybug sighed as she hugged her knees closer. “I don't have the strength for another talk tonight, Chaton . Please, leave me alone.”

“Then I'll be the one doing the talking. All you have to do is listen to me.” He didn't leave her any choice. Sitting beside her, his gaze intently locked with hers. “I love you, Bug.”

“Chat, please~ don't.”

“I'm doing it. Whether you like it or not. It's not about what you want, M'Lady. Not even about what I want. It's about what we both want. It's about us . So you're going to let me get this out, will you?”

Gobsmacked, the heroine weakly nodded. Though she looked down at her lap, not ready yet to read the overflowing emotion that already seemed to invade her partner's gaze.

“The last time we met here, you lied to me.”

She gulped; he was starting off strong, already scoring a point.

“You told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't the one you were in love with, that it would only happen 'in my dreams' . Well… Either I'm dreaming right now and I don't want to wake up— ever . Either, you fooled me,” he pointed out.

Ladybug sniffed, unaware of when she had started to let go. The tears were warm on her cheeks, a stinging contrast to the chill of autumn that was fully settling in.

“I'd lean more towards the second choice knowing that in my dreams, I wouldn't make you cry. Never .”

Well, actually, he was going to make her cry even more with such meaningful words. Words that had her looking up at him with her very watery eyes.

“You lied to me,” he stated. “And I was a fool to believe you with closed eyes. Blindfolded eyes actually,” he chuckled. “I was blinded by the need to forget you, whereas since the first time our lips touched, you were always the only one, making me give up on all the lips I hadn't touched yet.”

She couldn't help but wonder how he always managed to sweep her off her feet with just a few words like these. He did that with such ease; it was like his heart was outright in his mouth, at the tip of his tongue. By comparison, her heart was buried somewhere where she had dug a hole in the soil, buried as deep as possible so she could pretend it was just an artichoke.

The shame she felt deep in her guts had her looking down at her lap again, unable to hold the intensity, and the truth, lingering in her partner’s gaze. She unquestionably couldn't reciprocate on this one. Not after what she had with Adrien.

“I wish I could say the same…” Ladybug muttered, her voice muffled between her knees. 

“You could.” Chat Noir’s hand gently skimmed her chin, his fingers resting underneath and slowly lifting it for her to look at him.

When her eyes met the love glistening in his, she felt the urge to jump off the rooftop hoping the sidewalk would just open and swallow her into the depth. There was no way she broke his heart again. Not when he looked at her that way. 

“Did you only half listen to what I said the other night? I might have lied… and was actually talking about you… but I also told you about him,” she said, feeling uncomfortable having this conversation a second time. “There's someone else…” She closed her eyes and paused for a second, bringing her hands to the side of her head and rubbing in circles. This had been, and was, quite a mess if you asked her. “Well, there was someone else…” She opened her eyes, looking at him quite defeated as her hands balled into fists against her temples. “And as far as I know, sleeping with him involved more than just some ' lips touching ' if you know what I mean.”

Chat Noir snorted, a small giggle instantly dying in his throat as she glared at him. 

“What's so funny?”

“You know you're talking to a guy who's wearing a mask, right? For all you know, there may not be someone else and you may have only kissed me.” He shrugged. “You may have slept with me,” he added with a twitch of his brows and a sultry tone.

She couldn't help but wipe the (almost) dried tears from her face and let out a small laugh.

“And underneath my mask, I'm the other woman you like,” she huffed. “Would be the cherry on top,” she snorted . Unlikely.

“I'm more fond of passionfruit.”

Always something to say—not to smooth it out though… Ladybug thought. 

Yet any way, it helped his case.

“See. There's no match with my cake— wait! What?” The heroine's eyes suddenly widened.

A cocky smile graced Chat Noir's lips as he folded his arms behind his head and laid back against the cold material of the rooftop. “Is the penny dropping now? Or should I say… the mask ?” 

“A-Adrien…?” She blinked down at him, her gaze roaming all over his silhouette.  The broad shoulders and the protruding muscles of his arms contracting in that very position. She had seen him many times in this exact posture with the same smug expression—after they had sex when he basked in the afterglow. The penny dropped. Actually, the whole jackpot of the slot machine dropped. “Oh my god! I slept with Chat Noir!” she shrieked.

The playful wiggle of his eyebrows didn't do anything to soothe the mad beating of her heart. She stirred on the spot, growing edgy as she shrieked once more, and eventually ended up losing her balance, falling off the roof. 

Her partner's frightened call instantaneously brought her back to earth, before she could actually touch it . In a swift impulse, she threw her yo-yo, hanging it around the chimney stack not far behind the feline hero. Her fall came to a halt, her body swaying in the void, hanging on to her weapon as she took a deep breath before sighing lankily.

“You okay down there, Lovebug?”

She couldn't suppress the glare she cast at him. Some things never changed… 

“I need a minute, and I'm still mad at you, Mr. Rhythm'n'blues.”

“Would you still be mad at me if I told you to please, forgive me, I can't stop loving you,” Chat sang, taking on his softest voice.

“You'll have to try harder,” she muttered through slightly gritted teeth.

Tenderly smiling down at her, he reached for the rope of her yo-yo with his gloved hands and started to pull her up back on the roof.

“It's in the stars, it's been written in the scars on our hearts. We're not broken, just bent, and we can learn to love again.”

She tried her best to hide the shy and fond smile which treacherously threatened to pop on her lips, only for her partner to keep going harder and ended up making her giggling.

“I can't stop singing, it's ringing in my head for you,” he practically purred as he forcefully pulled one last time, bringing her back on her feet. His lips curved into a playful grin, his eyes glistening with mischief… and love. “Give your all to me, I'll give my all to you. You're my end and my beginning, even when I lose, I'm winning,” he whispered while moving closer, one of his hands slowly reaching for her cheek, cradling it with a gentle rub of his thumb.

The heroine's heart swelled with relief as she leaned into his soft touch, the burden of her messed up love life instantly easing from her shoulders. She felt so light all of a sudden, it could almost allow her to fly off the ground.

“May I kiss you, M'Lady?”

“Oh, you're asking this time?” she sassed with a small smirk.

A small smirk which quickly faded away, covered by Chat's. The kiss was unquestionably sloppy; both were unable to stop smiling their happiness out of their heart.

“I'm still mad at you,” Ladybug murmured, slowly breaking apart from the touch of his warm mouth. Though she sounded anything but convincing.

“I had no choice. You never would have opened up and mentioned your Chaton if I hadn't gone to great lengths. I'm sorry if I hurt you, and I'll make it up to you. But I have no regrets.” Chat Noir said as he gently stroked her bottom lip with the tip of his thumb, the touch sending shivers deep down her toes. “None,” he added, before his lips met hers again in a way that left them both ultimately out of breath and mind blown. 

If they were to compare their current state to something pictured, puddles of goo seemed appropriate. Brains and knees completely melted away in the middle of their heartwarming revelations.

Chapter Text

Making it back to the karaoke bar had been the hardest thing in this world (apart from living in it). They could have cuddled, kissed and relished in the relief of finally having found each other all night, all the following day, all life, forever .

Well, for the record, it had also begun to snow, and Marinette being Marinette... They had escaped the catastrophe by a hair's breadth a few times on their way, thanks to Adrien's keen reflexes—even out of the suit. 

Reluctantly unlacing their intertwined arms and making sure Marinette was steady on her deadly stilettos, Adrien moved to the front door. Opening it, he then courtly stepped aside to let her in.

“After you, M'Lady,” he whispered, his voice hoarser than usual as his heart still seemed to beat inside of his throat. 

It was as if he had poured his heart out tonight, not only figuratively, but literally . The damn organ finally dared to show up and woo Marinette's heart so that they can at last beat in accordance. And as the flap of butterfly's wings could cause a cataclysm, Adrien was sure the throbbing of their linked heart could only cause wonders.

But first a cataclysm… whose name was Alya . 

“Can you tell me what is going on with you two?” She confronted them as soon as they walked through the door.

Adrien felt a little queasy with Alya's suspicious look; it had to be said that she had all the reason to be left puzzled by her friends' behavior these few last weeks.  Fortunately, his partner had the situation and her best friend under control. 

“I'll take care of it,” Marinette murmured to him. “How about you go join Nino for a duet? You could save the spoil he's making with La vie en rose before everyone here sees red ,” she snorted.

“Red's nice,” Adrien whispered as his eyes roamed down her red dress before they looked up at her matching cheeks. “It's my favorite color.” Slowly bringing a hand to cradle her face, he leaned in, gently pressing a kiss against her swollen lips.

This had both Alya squeaking and clearing her throat at the same time. 

The next moment, Marinette pulled apart, urging him to go away and leave her alone with her best friend. 

It looked like he was going to have no choice but to let her take matters into her own hands while he was going to sing La vie en rose with Nino.

Which actually shouldn't be a problem since he was currently seeing La vie en rose.

And in red . 

And in every color of the rainbow .

Maybe after that, he could also deliver a colorful and worthy performance on Yellow Submarine . (Author shrugging).

Marinette didn't know if Alya's deafening silence after her explanations meant everything was fine… or if it was the telltale sign of upcoming troubles.

Her best friend stirred her straw in her Pina Colada, crushed ice moving and causing a tiny whirlwind to swing in her glass. Her eyes were firmly focused on the physical reaction, following the motion, until she suddenly looked up at Marinette, one brow raised inquisitively.

“Is Adrien Chat Noir?” she blurted out from nowhere. Ever the wiser. 

Uh-oh, troubles.

“What? No,” she tsked, wincing and dismissing what Alya asked with a nonchalant wave of her hand. Her eyes though, couldn’t help wandering over Adrien’s silhouette standing on the stage and singing merrily as if he just had discovered a new vocation. She sighed lovingly at the heartfelt sight; who’d have thought that this night out would start off so bad and end up so… miraculously well. She was a lucky bug.

“That answer won’t fool me,” Alya said as she stopped stirring her straw into her cocktail before pointing it accusingly toward Marinette; oops, she’d been caught staring at her new boyfriend, almost drooling over him . (Who could blame her, huh?) “You told me that you and Adrien lied to us and weren't actually together. Well, you were only for sex... Until tonight. You also said Adrien wanted more when you didn't want to. I only know one reason for you to turn down Adrien Agreste…” 

If her best friend kept waving her straw so vigorously, Marinette would get splashed in the face, ending up wearing a new, alcoholic night cream smelling pineapple and coconut. 

“…And that very reason is skulking around in a skintight, black, magical cat-suit. Kind of like Lucifer is always the devil walking around in a three-piece suit. Detective Decker didn't resist.” Alya pointed out with renewed vigour before sticking her straw in her mouth to lick the surplus of Pina Colada still dripping from it. “But now you are with Adrien. Which brings me back to the fact that he can only be Chat Noir; that's why you finally gave in.”

Who needed Detective Chloe Decker's skills when they had Alya Césaire's flair, huh?

“You have a knack for always putting your finger on such sensitive information...” Marinette exhaled, two fingers rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“I wasn't promoted to chief reporter of TVi for nothing.” Alya shrugged as she dipped her straw back in her cocktail and sipped what was left in a single gulp with a small giggle. 

Her smugness certainly didn’t fall unnoticed.

“You… wait!” Marinette’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Did you get a promotion?!” she wondered, squealing.

“I did.” She grinned. “That's why I wanted to come here tonight. And now, we've got a lot more to celebrate since both my ships are sailing, so let's double the fun!” Sounding like her 14 years old fangirl self, Alya was beyond ecstatic and ended up carried away. “Waiter! We'll take two more of these, please,” she ordered, waving her empty Pina Colada to emphasize her demand. “Plus two shots of tequila! Salt, lime, the whole thing!”

“Uh, Alya, you know that I don't usually drink… I’m not sure it’s a good–”

“Ooh! I’ll stop you right now; you don't usually get laid by both Paris's heartthrobs either.”

“Alya!” Marinette hissed through gritted teeth.

“Don't 'Alya' me, will you? This is our night, let's make the most of it.”

And that's when Marinette eventually surrendered before the core four ended up singing Yellow Submarine and Y.M.C.A by the end of the night, or was it the early morning? Who cared anyway? The four of them were happy, each in their own way, and that’s all that mattered at the end of the day; night; morning? Or at the end of the story. 

Their story, which was just beginning, and which, she was sure, would contain many chapters punctuated with ups (and downs), but always turned towards a bright and miraculous future together. 

Well… Once everybody would have sobered up. Because at first sight, the future promised a good headache before anything else.

Then it'd be all about building their home, having three kids (or maybe four, why not?) and a hamster named… 

The end.