Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“And that is why the city of Paris has voted Chat Noir as their all-time favourite superhero.

Not only is he caring and charismatic, but his ability to look good in black super leather also puts him at the top of the ladder when it comes to Paris’ superheroes.

Chat Noir received a massive 67% of the votes, showing just how popular the cat hero is, and surprisingly not just amongst teens and young adults: it seems he was also the favourite within the older voters, taking up 92% of the votes in the 50+ demographic.

Congratulations Chat Noir; it seems everyone loves you just as much as we do!”

“How long are you going to gloat about this?” A huff resonated across the rooftops of Paris.

“I’m not gloating.” Chat Noir said, flopping down from his standing position, and collapsing beside his partner, magazine still in hand. They were perched on their favourite spot, looking over at the Eiffel Tower; Chat Noir smugly allowing his tail to run free as she sulked next to him. She couldn’t just let it be. Instead, she shuffled towards him, glancing over his shoulder, once more, at the article in question.

“It’s a nice picture though, don’t you think?” he said, his eyes glistening with mischief as he picked up the glossy photograph of a face and held it beside his real one. She frowned. Damn him for looking like a goddamn supermodel!

Over the past couple of weeks, ‘Cosmopolitan’ magazine had been holding their own poll to find out who Paris' number one superhero was. Usually Ladybug wasn’t bothered by these types of popularity contests – there had been many over the years - but this time, she couldn’t help feeling furious at the results.

She was the one who magicked Paris back to normal, she was the one who captured AND purified the akumas, so why was she ranked so low? And just to be clear, it had nothing to do with her Kitty placing number one.

The problem was she hadn’t even made the top 5. Apparently, the public saw her as ‘impersonal’ and ‘not someone you'd invite out for a drink with friends.’ A party pooper, and an all-round Mary-Sue; evidently, she despised it. Just because she was professional and had no interest in pleasing the crowds, why should that affect her ranking? Once again, it was no dig at her partner.

She understood Chat Noir was a fan favourite - he was her favourite after all - but ‘Polymouse’ beating her? That was just taking the mickey (mouse)! Maybe she should have just stayed as ‘Multimouse’ for the rest of her days. It seemed furry creatures were what Paris wanted (she couldn't disagree with the citizens — bugs weren't pleasant to pet), and, to be honest, when she was all dolled up in pink and grey, complete with space buns, she was a cute rodent.

“Your face is telling me you’re not happy, so speak up, little bug.”

Oh, how she didn’t want to bring this up right now. He was just going to see her as petty and immature. They were both 19; things this trivial shouldn’t have such an effect on her. They never had before, so why suddenly were they now?

“Bugaboo, come on.”

“You know calling me that is not going to help your case.” She crossed her arms defensively across her chest and raised an eyebrow in his direction. Chat shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her snuggly into his side.

She sighed, allowing her head to seek solace on his shoulder as she closed her eyes and gathered the courage to speak.

“Before I explain, I just want you to know I have nothing against you winning, at all. I mean, you’re my number one hero, so it makes sense the citizens of Paris see you that way too. It just… hurts to think people see me as unapproachable and impersonable. I know you tend to deal with civilians more, but I like to think I'm friendly with them too,” she said, looking down to hide the pain in her eyes. “It’s not like I’ve ever hurt anyone. I don’t think I’ve done anything that would make people feel like I don’t care about them,” she continued.

He unravelled himself from around her, letting his arm drop and turning to face her.“M’Lady, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I already know how amazing you are; it’s their problem if they don’t see it.” He took his baton from his back, opened his email - the one exclusively for his hero persona - and began typing frantically. “You know what? I’m going to —”

“What are you doing, Kitty?” She interrupted looking at his phone screen with concern. His aggressive thumb movements made her feel sorry for those on the receiving end of the message.

“Emailing the magazine to ask for a retraction.”

“Wh- Chat don’t!” She leapt forward, hell-bent on stopping him from sending the message. Yet, Chat simply held his baton above her hair and continued to frantically type. Cursing their height difference and Chat’s growth spurt, Ladybug reached up and grabbed hold of his bicep, attempting to pull it down.

”And sent!” Chat Noir slid his baton shut and placed it back into his holder, a smug grin on his face as he looked towards her.

“Chaaaat! Why did you do that?“

He shrugged, “ Because it made you sad. Duh!”

“But now I seem petty,” she huffed.

“I don’t care. I’m not having something so ridiculous and so… I don’t know… insignificant making you feel that way. You’re worth more than that, M’Lady! It’s their problem if they can’t handle it. Who knows? Maybe once they’ve read what I think they’ll want to swap me out with someone else,” he snickered, Ladybug now certain whoever read the message was in for an eyeful.

“Chat Noir, it’s okay. I promise I’m fine. It's just, I do so much for Paris and it’s just a little kick in the teeth to think they don’t see me for who I am,” she responded.

Chat placed a hand on her forearm, his thumb stroking over it in a comforting arch. “I’m sure if it was for the most amazing superhero, M’Lady, you’d be number one. It’s just a silly popularity contest where my puns are appreciated, for once.”

“I never said they weren’t appreciated,” she huffed. “I like your puns too. It’s just…”

“The timing!” They said together before Chat burst out laughing, this time with Ladybug joining in alongside him.

“You didn’t get a bad review, Bugaboo. It was just the ranking you don’t appreciate. They do still love you — it’s clear to see.”

She picked up the magazine again and turned back to the page she was on.

Number 9: Ladybug

A lot of people might be shocked by the low ranking of Paris’ main heroine; however, it’s not without good reason.

Though our Ladybug might be powerful, creative, and all-around amazing, it’s those very qualities which have placed her at number nine on our list. Many people have always said she has an aura around her that makes her almost impossible to approach; some have even gone as far as stating that she must be an alien from another planet.

Ladybug will always be our first beck and call for a hero's help, though people would prefer a day out with the cat than his bug - Ladybug’s rule following would not be fun for a night out on the town causing chaos.

So Ladybug, we do love you! You're just extremely intimidating.

“How do I fix this?” She asked, eyes scanning the article once more before turning to question her partner.

His eyebrows scrunched together, his face displaying the look of someone trying to solve the meaning of life. “Fix it? What do you mean?”

“How do I make myself more…” She waved her hands around hoping the gesture would give the answer her mouth couldn’t. His intense, curious gaze suddenly spurred her on once more. “Like you?”

“Pfft, you can try, Bug, but you’ll never be as cool as Paris’ number one superhero.” He puffed out his chest in a mocking gesture, causing her to roll her eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean. I need to make myself more likeable; someone people wouldn’t mind spending time with and getting to know.”

"I wouldn't mind spending more time with you," he teased, wiggling his brows before she slapped him on the forearm and he collected himself; with a small cough he was serious again.

Chat Noir tapped a finger to his lower lip as he considered. “How about you do something so the people can see you’re just like them? Like a charity drive, or, I don’t know, you could write an article about something you like? You just need to show people that you’re an ordinary teenage girl like a vast majority of Paris’ population; that you have the same worries or the same fears.”

“An article? I think you might have something there, Kitty.”

All of a sudden, an idea hit her like a wave hitting a boulder; hard and unsettling. That was it! That was the idea she was waiting for, the idea which could bring her back to the number one spot, or at least number two. Pun intended? She didn’t care.

“I could write something. And I know exactly who to contact.” She stood abruptly, pulling her partner with her, and grasping onto his shoulders like a vice. “Chaton, you’re brilliant!”

“People have questioned that in the past. However - and I don’t want to float my own boat here - I have been accepted into MENSA, so I must say I do agree,” he chuckled, only for Ladybug to laugh once more, place her hand against his chest and push him away.

“I’m not kidding, Chaton, you… are… brilliant! I could kiss you right now.”

“What are you waiting for then?” He moved forwards once more, his face edging in towards her with glistening eyes and pouty lips.

She slapped him on the chest again, this time with a little more force. “You are so funny, Kitty,” she giggled, grabbing her yo-yo from her hip and flicking it open. She checked the time, glad to see it was 11 pm.

Alya, her best friend and flatmate, had been out on a date with longtime boyfriend Nino tonight which meant she should be home within the next half an hour.. They never stayed out late on a weeknight, and, until Marinette had found a suitable boyfriend, there was a clear ‘no sleepover’ pact in their shared apartment.

“Again, I wasn’t joking. I’m open to kissing as much as anyone else.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said flatly; her eyes remained firmly set on her yo-yo, tapping away frantically as she tried to come up with some sort of plan; though she was sure that, as soon as she approached Alya, her friend would have a million weird and wonderful ideas to share.

Slamming the yo-yo shut, she attached the object back to her hip and turned to face her partner, a sparkle in her eyes. This was exciting!

“Should I ask, or are you going to fill me in later?”

“At a later date, my Kitty Cat,” she winked, heading over towards the chimney stack and away from their meeting place.

“A date? Oh, yes, please.” Chat Noir said, heading in her direction.

She giggled again, stretching on her toes and pressing a soft ‘thank you’ kiss to his cheek. She turned abruptly, before launching into a run in the opposite direction.

“See you tomorrow, Chat Noir.”

She couldn’t hear what he said next, her thoughts running wild with what she was about to do: she was going to make Ladybug as approachable as Marinette, and she would be the ‘go to’ hero for advice and guidance.

Continuing on her path, she made her way in the direction of her and Alya’s apartment.

Bring it on!

Alya almost had a heart attack; the pounding suddenly striking against her window was enough to wake the dead and those beyond. Grabbing the lamp from her desk, she slowly edged towards the window, terrified Monarch was about to smash the glass and jump through it. It wouldn’t be the first time the supervillain had tried to attack her at home.

Reaching into her back pocket, her hand hovered over where her phone was tucked away. She had three choices to consider here:

Call the police

Call Nino

Call Marinette

The most likely option being number 3; after all, Nino was scared of the dark, the police wouldn’t actually come unless she was attacked, and Marinette was a goddamn superhero and her roommate. Yep, Marinette would be the choice.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she selected her best friend, staring down at the picture of her idol shoving two marshmallows up her nose as she sat beside the wannabe designer with candy sticking out of her ears.

Alya took a deep breath, slipping her phone back into her pocket, as it continued to call Marinette’s number. Even if she was transformed, at least it would be directed to voicemail. Alya would just make sure she talked really loud, detailing information about who was kidnapping her in hopes Marinette could find her. She tightened her hold on the desk lamp, hoping the cable would reach the door: last thing she wanted was her attack restricted.

There, she had this covered.

Right, here she goes…

She took one step forward and four back.

What the hell was wrong with her?! She was a superhero, dammit! She could deal with this. She was Ladybug’s bff and confidant, Ladybug’s stand in the mighty Scarabella and Paris’ number two hero (thank you ‘Cosmopolitan’ readers): she had this in the bag.

Grabbing a hold of one side of her curtains, she yanked them open, causing the face on the other side to scream like a banshee. Alya gladly joined in with even louder shrieks. The two continued to scream at each other until Ladybug took the initiative to open the door and step into the room, firmly slamming a hand on Alya’s mouth.

“I will only let go if you stop screaming,” she hissed. Alya nodded fiercely in response, agreeing to her leader's demands. “I’m removing my hand, okay?” Once again, Alya nodded, this time a little more aggressively, as Ladybug moved her hand away tentatively, ready to slam it back down if need be; her face showed relief as Alya stood silently, staring at her.

“Why the hell haven’t you used the front door?”

Ladybug signalled down to her body, drawing attention to her attire. “Because I’m here on official superhero business. Now can you stop aiming the lamp at me, please?”

Alya suddenly remembered her ‘weapon’ and moved back to the desk, placing it down carefully. “Is this about the hit list?” she questioned.

Ladybug sighed, drawing the curtains closed and calling off her transformation. She headed over to Alya’s bed and collapsed onto it, looking like a defeated hero rather than a victorious one.

“Let me guess,” Alya continued. “You’re gutted that Chat Noir was number one and not you?”

“God no, why does everyone seem to think it’s that? If anyone deserves that number one spot, it’s him.”

“Pun intended?”

“Ugh!” She shrugged her shoulders. Why not? They were talking about Chat Noir after all. Marinette threw herself onto her back from her sitting position, allowing one arm to fall over her eyes as she cowered in mortification from what she was about to ask.

“So what’s got you riled up?” Alya continued, moving towards her desk and seating herself at the computer. She spun around and scooted the chair over towards her bed, her eyes fixated on Marinette’s very dramatic display of forlorning.

“I was talking to Chat Noir, and he thinks the problem is I’m not showing enough of ‘myself’,” she added in air quotes to make her point before she continued, “and that people are afraid of talking to me.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘afraid’,” Alya murmured, turning and moving back towards her computer. She positioned herself over the keyboard and began typing. “It’s more of a general…” Alya moved her head side to side, her lips pursed, in an attempt to find the right words to say. “It’s just… nobody knows what to say to you. You come off so above everyone else, but not in a stuck up way. You just seem too perfect. Unapproachable, almost.”

“Well, I’m not!” Marinette whined, causing Alya to snort.

“You definitely don’t need to tell us that, Miss ‘I’m going to walk my cactus’.”

“It was an easy enough mistake to make,” Marinette said in an indignant tone, removing her arm from covering her eyes, and pushing herself to sit facing her friend.

“Firstly – no matter how you try to spin this – a lot of the time, things you say don’t make sense,” Alya claimed, looking over her shoulder at her friend, who was quite clearly pouting.

“I could have meant I’m going to walk my cat. An easy mistake to make,” Marinette said, eyes away from Alya, arms crossed defensively on her chest.

Alya turned back to the screen and continued to type. “Yep, that would be an amazing reason, if you had a cat.” She chuckled, changing her attention to her mouse as she began to move it swiftly across the display, every now and then filling the gaps in their conversation with a click.

“I might have a cat.”

“Yes, you might, but you don’t. I knew that, Nino knew that and I’m quite certain Adrien knew that too.”

“Don’t sing his name like that,” Marinette said, walking up to stand beside her friend. “You know I’m over him now. It’s been five years, I’ve moved on.”

“Okay, oh ray of sunshine. Who have you moved on to?”

“There was that one guy at the restaurant we went to a couple of months ago.”

“For the last time, Marinette, he was the waiter, and he was offering you sweet peas, not giving you a nickname, sweet pea,” the fox heroine explained, exasperatedly.

“Oh, yeah? Then why did he call me pumpkin pie?”

“Because it was the ‘special’ that day.” Alya looked at her friend, expression shook. What was Marinette on today?

“Why are we even talking about this?” Marinette asked, watching as the Ladyblog loaded once again, this time with the pictures Alya had taken on her and Chat’s last patrol.

“You bought it up!” Alya exclaimed, poking a finger towards Marinette. “Okay, Miss Ladybug, what honour do I get by being acquainted with Paris' number nine superhero?”

Grabbing the nearest thing (a cushion of Rena Rouge and Carapace gifted from Marinette last Christmas) Marinette launched it towards Alya with enough force to take down Thanos. Bouncing off Alya’s head it managed to take out the lamp, a cuddly toy and a bottle of whatever Alya had previously been drinking.

“If you’re going to make fun of me, I’ll go somewhere else.” Marinette muttered, knowing full well this was a losing battle.

“No, no, no, I’m sorry! Come on girl, spill the deets.”

Marinette took a deep breath and let it slowly out. “Okay, so, I was ranting away at Chat Noir, and he came up with this idea. He said that maybe I should do something that makes me seem, for lack of a better word, normal. Something that links me to other 19 something’s, and makes me relatable.”

“What?” Alya snickered. “Are you going to go on a reality tv show or something? Because I’m telling you now, I don’t think Paris would be too fond of their Ladybug attempting to find a partner on ‘Love Island’. Maybe you should just –”

The way Alya stopped and her eyes widened, Marinette couldn’t help fearing what was about to come next. In her catalogue of Alya Césaire faces, this one usually meant ‘be afraid’.

“What if you wrote an article? Or even better, a blog?”

Okay, that wasn’t that bad. Alya had pretty much come up with a similar idea to Chat Noir. As much as she had a type when it came to suitors - *cough cough* blonde haired, green eyed, toned men - she also seemed to have a similar taste in best friends: Alya and Chat Noir seemed the same person but with a different gender.

“I was going to say —”

“About dating!”

“Say what now?” Marinette’s lips pursed as she studied Alya’s face. She must have lost her mind because there is no way Marinette could write an article on dating. She hadn’t made it past a first date since her almost-relationship with Luka four years ago.

“What’s one thing both Ladybug and Marinette are crap at doing?”

“Easy… eating spicy food.”

“Don’t play smart with me, Dupain-Cheng.” Alya turned back to her computer and started typing away again. This time Marinette was sure smoke was leaving her fingertips.

She moved closer, peering over her friend's shoulder to watch what she was writing.

@TheLadyblogger:  Hey Ladyblog fans, how would you all feel about our super Ladybug having her own blog on the website? Cool right?

Marinette resisted the urge to grab Alya’s desktop and throw it out of the window with the intention to dunk it into the depths of the Seine and create a new home for Nemo.

“Why did you —” Before Marinette could berate her friend for such an absurd action, Alya’s computer began to ping; message after message, after message. “No way,” placing her hand on the back of Alya’s chair, Marinette leaned forwards towards the screen, eyes widening as tens and hundreds of messages began to flood in.

@Ladynoirstan1995:  That would be so cool. I wonder what she’d blog about? Maybe she’d give us some insights into Chat Noir and what a girl could do to get a date with him. What a dreamboat!

@CN_fan_62:  Woah! Ladyblogger, you have outdone yourself with this one. I’d love to read something on here from Ladybug as I still enjoy rereading ‘Chat Noir’s Chase for Cheese’ article, which FYI was a great help for my dinner party. Thank you Chat Noir!

@BringbackQueenie:  Like that stuck up witch would do anything for the ‘little people’, she doesn’t even comfort the Akuma victims, just leaves it up to her furry. What a joke!

@AA_Longlastingpower:  Alya, this would be incredible! I’m sure a lot of people (including myself) would love to read something written by Ladybug.

As Alya picked up her bottle of, now exceptionally fizzy, Sprite a smug smile graced her face. Settling back in her chair, she waited for Marinette to read the last comment, the intense breathing and near cardiac arrest taking place behind her the sure signs Marinette had read exactly who the post was from.

Not only were people completely for Ladybug’s column, but Adrien frigging Agreste also wanted her to write it. So much for being over him!

Almost sending Alya flying out the balcony window, she pushed her friend away (chair and all) and directed her attention to the screen, pulling up Alya’s posting account.

“What are you doing?” Her fiery friend said as she used her Blaze thigh power training to move herself and the chair closer to Marinette’s shoulder.

Setting her bottle back on the coaster, Alya read what Marinette was typing, and sudden excitement took hold, causing her to bounce up and down.

@TheLadyblogger:  Hi everyone, LB here. I’m overwhelmed with the responses to the idea of writing an article for the Ladyblog. I have decided, thanks to the support of all you lovely people, that I will begin my blogging journey next week.

Subscribe to stay informed of my Miraculous adventure.

“Slightly cheesy,” Alya began, “but I like it. So tell me, Bugaboo, what are you going to write about?”

Chapter Text

“I’m not writing that, or that, or that!” Marinette announced, taking the pen out of where she’d stored it in her hair to cross six ideas off of Alya’s blogging idea list.

“Oh come on Marinette, you’re a fashion student! You should be able to blog about outfits to wear on specific dates; all you need to do is style ‘Marinette’ and write about ‘her’ date's reaction to the outfit. We can take photos for the blog and everything. You can even promote your company. Two birds, one stone!”

“Don’t you think that’s a little too close to revealing my identity? It would be a clear pointer and a neon flashing sign saying ‘Hey guys, I’m Marinette and I’m Ladybug.’”

“Come on, girl. You know how oblivious everyone actually is! We went through collège and lycée without Adrien knowing you liked him, or that Chloé wasn’t a natural blonde.”

Marinette stopped what she was doing, her eyes staring at Alya as her jaw dropped open. “Chloé’s not a natural blonde?”

“Can you remember that day she didn’t want to participate in swimming?”

“Yeah?” Marinette said, eagerly moving forward in anticipation of the story.

“Well, it was because she was worried her hair would turn green. I heard her telling Ms. Bustier!” Alya whispered; anyone would have thought she had the combination code for the Crown Jewels the way the wannabe reporter was darting her eyes around the room.

“No,” Marinette gasped, mouth agape as she began to consider this as one of the most monumental moments of her life.

Chloé Bourgeois was not naturally blonde!

“I know! So scandalous! Ooo, maybe we could do styling for dates. Do your hair, take you out and see what guys like more?”

Marinette shook her head. This was just getting ridiculous.

“Alya, none of these are working! I can’t just write about something I don’t know! Why didn’t I decide to write about games, or baking, or - or -”

“Chat Noir’s favourite puns?” Alya filled in.

“Exactly! I can’t write about dating because I’m crap at it! How can I tell people to do something I can’t actually do myself? Come and read about Ladybug: the great failure in love. I'm going to go from an arrogant hero to a loveless zero in a matter of weeks.” Marinette slumped against the side of the sofa, a hand framing her brows as she took a sudden interest in the floor.

This was not going the way she wanted it to go, she thought she’d turn up here and Alya would have an idea. Then, within 48 hours everyone would love her again, and she would be Paris’ number two hero; no issues, no problems, all done and dusted. Instead, it was turning into the idea from hell! She was going to skin that cat alive for planting this seed in her head.

“This is a disaster, a complete disaster.”

“Listen, Marinette, we don’t need to choose right now. Let’s just get some ideas together.” Alya moved some things around on the floor, taking a couple of pieces of paper, reading them, then balling them up ready to throw away.

“What was on those?” Marinette asked, Alya’s face turning almost the same fiery red as her hair.

“You don’t wanna know.”

Suddenly the screwed up pieces of paper on the floor had become the most interesting items in the room. Marientte glanced down towards them first, Alya following shortly after. Both eyes raising in a glare of curiosity of the other.

Without warning, Marinette dived forward first, grabbed one of the balled up pieces of paper and opened it up; Alya tried to wrestle it away.

“You’re a disgrace!” Marinette squealed, her eyes growing wider and wider with each word she read. Her face morphed into complete shock as she finally reached the bottom of Alya’s idea list.

“Oh, don’t give me that! We’re 19, and I know you read some very risqué novels.”

Slamming her hands to her cheeks, Marinette let out a tiny ‘meep’ noise before screwing the paper back up and aiming for the bin.

“I know you don’t want Ladybug to seem like a failure, Marinette, but if you show your troubles, and weaknesses, that’s what will make you human to everyone. That’s how they’ll see you as one of them. Just imagine the girls out there who are not models, or outspoken, or have the ability to talk to their crush…like you. Imagine if they found out the wonderful Ladybug was the same as them, that she didn’t always win the guy, or the competition, or, even, make it through a day without walking into a door.”

Alya was right; she knew that. Yet still, that didn’t help with her self confidence. To her, Ladybug was the perfect part of her (ignoring losing all the Miraculous’) and she liked that she was seen that way; it was so different from her daily life. Not only was she going to have to change her mindset, but she was going to have to really embrace her Marinette side—for this at least.

“Look, I’m not saying you need to go and make a fool out of yourself. You’ve just got to show you have the same problems as the unlucky-in-love do.”

The two sat down, a clean piece of paper in front of them and no thoughts in their heads.

“What do girls struggle with when they want to find a boyfriend?” Alya tapped the pen against her bottom lip as Marinette gnawed on the lid of her own.

“Is there anyone else we could speak to about this? I mean you’ve been with Nino for five years, and I’ve only had one ‘almost’ relationship. We don’t exactly have the best credentials for this.” Marinette stopped her assault on the pen lid and instead tapped the pen against her bottom lip, the plain white paper blinding her with hopelessness.

“We don’t need anyone else; we can do this,” Alya enthused. “Let’s think… if I wanted to find a date, I would…”

They sat in silence again.

“Use Tinder?” Marinette said sheepishly. She’d never used the app herself, stopping after a couple of epic fails with other apps. After one too many close calls, she had become far too wary about the possibility of finding weirdos more than finding love. Plus, with her additional activities, she didn’t want a randomer discovering her secret identity.

“That’s true; a lot of people do meet their other half via apps these days.”

“I’m not okay with that though, I mean, I would prefer to build something the old-fashioned way. Meet them somewhere, get to know them, check they’re not Norman Bates, and match interests. Then, if all is well, go on a date.”

Alya looked at her with furrowed eyebrows, a considerable pout placed on her lips as she thought about what Marinette had just said. Alya began to tap the pen against her lower lip once more, speeding up as she examined Marinette’s face; then suddenly freezing.

“That’s it,” Alya whispered almost breathlessly, “that’s what we’re going to do. Old-fashioned romance in a new technological world. There’s so many catfishes and other issues with using apps and dating online; so, why don’t we put you in a situation where you’ll need to go out and about to meet someone? Someone who would fit into your life.”

Marinette nodded her head; this could maybe work — if she wasn’t constantly running away to fight akumas.

Maybe this could work. She was an okay-looking girl, her body parts were in proportion to each other, and she had a good sense of humour and personality.

The main issue with her dating life was she’d put herself into this position, a position where she believed she couldn’t have a relationship—not while being Ladybug, anyway. But she was 19 now, and the thought of hitting her 20s without ever having a real relationship was starting to depress her.

“Let’s come up with a plan of, oh I don’t know, ten points which you’re going to cover; from looking for and finding the right place, up until the first kiss.”

“You’re being optimistic there, aren’t you? Ten points? I’ll be lucky to make it through three.”

Alya rolled her eyes before continuing. “First, we need to know where you will be looking.” She began to rummage around the area, only stopping once her hands were firmly placed on her tablet. Tapping around a couple of times, she pulled up Google. “You’re a real woman, with a real schedule; you have high aspirations and expectations, you have a job, commissions, and are a superhero. You need to find someone who fits in with all that. You need to meet someone somewhere it makes sense. Humm…” she considered. “The University café?”

“Alya, I go to fashion school; most of the males I hang around with are not exactly going for my goods.” Marinette sighed, taking the tablet from Alya’s lap and typing into Google.

“So we’re after a male? That’s always good clarification.”

“When have I ever given any indication I wanted a female?”

“Marinette, you haven’t gone on more than a first date since you were 14 and, to be honest, I was kind of hoping your orange juice and coffee dates with Kagami or Zoé were leading to something.” Alya reached out and placed a hand over Marinette’s. “I just want you to be happy, Marinette.”

“That’s really sweet; thank you Alya.” Marinette smiled, her friend, once again, being the second most supportive person in her life. “But I’ve actually been trying to set them up together. They’d be a good match, don’t you think?”

Alya glared at Marinette quizzically, so quizzically in fact, Marinette thought a crossword puzzle may have formed itself over her face.

“What?” Marinette laughed out the word which was laced with fear; that face from Alya was never a good sign.

“You’ve managed to set up most of our class; Nino and I, Ivan and Myléne, Marc and Nathaniel, and now you’re working on Zoé and Kagami!” she said exasperatedly. “Even Luka travelled over halfway across the world to be with Fei, a duo you set up. I just don’t get why you can’t sort yourself out.”

She didn’t know why Alya was asking; it was such a simple answer it was smacking them in the face over and over again like a giant wet fish. Adrien Agreste.

She hadn’t seen much of him since they left lycée just over a year ago. Nino still saw him sporadically, but the guy was worn down even more than she was, and that was saying something. It seemed, once again, Gabriel had gotten a tight grip on Adrien’s schedule, limiting pretty much everything the guy did, even if modelling wasn’t an activity for him anymore. The only upside (in her eyes) was the lack of female company parading around on Adrien’s arm. Every movie premiere or gala event Adrien appeared at was always alongside Kagami.

With the absence of him in her life, Marinette had come to terms with the fact that she and him would never happen, and, as much as she’d continue to dream about a life with him, she couldn’t just stand around and wait; instead, making do with friendly random texts and even more infrequent phone calls.

“I can set people up because I’m not the mess out on the actual date,” Marinette laughed. “Being single is hard.” Her whining voice summed up her feelings completely, as her shoulders sagged and her eyes closed.

“Well, you’ve tried meeting guys at bars, and that always fails epically.”

“Pfft, don’t remind me.”

“You’ve tried friends,” Alya began to count out the checklist on her fingers. “Friends of friends, blind dates, you’ve dated the straight guy and the bisexual guy on your course, then we’ve attempted to meet people in coffee shops, clothing stores, craft shops, arcades… anywhere else?”

Marinette flopped backwards onto the floor, both hands slamming on her face and dragging down. “I just don’t think this is going to work Alya; I’m a mess. Guys might want Ladybug, but nobody wants Marinette. I never make it more than half an hour into a first date.”

“You’re forgetting one thing; Ladybug wouldn’t exist without Marinette, and it’s only because Marinette is so awesome that Ladybug is such an amazing hero. So let’s push all the negativity to one side and, for once, be positive. In a couple of weeks, you will have a boyfriend, and he’ll treat you like a Princess.”

“I hope you’re not hinting at Chat Noir there?”

Alya shrugged. “Let’s be honest; the guy will read the blog and try to find you. I’d put money on it, and, who knows, Chat Noir’s civilian side might be rather charming.” Alya winked, twisting and twirling her pen between her fingers; now there’s a skill Marinette would like to have. “Wouldn’t that just make the blog all the more sweeter?”

“There is no way I would find and date Chat Noir. The only way that could happen is if I spent my time at a local comedy club. He probably moonlights there on the weekends.” Marinette attempted to twirl her pen like her friend, sending it sailing over Alya’s head and into a photo frame holding a picture of herself, Alya, Nino and, of course, Adrien.

Alya started snickering, Marinette joining in quite quickly afterwards.

“I tell you what,” Alya began, “if you think you’ve found him, his civilian form, that is, you have to go on at least one date. I really think it’s been long enough now, and you two deserve to not only know each other behind the masks but to also spend some time together.” She coughed and shrugged her shoulders a little before continuing. “It’ll also help the ratings on my blog.”

Marinette was quite certain Alya was playing to her main weakness – the inability to say no.

“I’m not using my Kitty for your blog, Alya!” Watching her friend's face fall of course made Marinette reconsider her options. “But maybe if I meet someone who could be him, and he seems okay, then I will go on one date with him. Just one. Deal?” Marinette’s nonchalant shrug caused a barrage of giggles to leave Alya’s mouth, Marinette knowing Alya was already preparing her maid of honour speech. “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t!”

“I didn’t say a thing!”

“You don’t have to; it’s written in Times New Roman size 24 on your face.”

“That’s a long-winded way of saying that.”

“Bite me!” Marinette grabbed the cushion and hit her friend on the back of the head.

“Ouch! I’m trying to help you here. Give me a little respect.”

Marinette huffed before she picked up her notepad and pen and prepared to write.

“We need to figure out what you want to do. Do you want to join a club? Or get a second…no wait…sixth job? We also need to base it on what kind of guy you’re after. If we use Adrien as our template, then maybe we have an idea of your type, and before you start complaining, I know your infatuation with him isn’t just because of his ‘model good’ looks.”

The exhale that came from Marinette would have been comical if they didn’t have things to do.

“It needs to be something accessible all the time, something that’s open most of the day. I never know when I’m going to be free so…”

They both sat there thinking…and thinking…and thinking. What would produce ‘Adrien’s’ and be open 24/7? He was attractive, and the recent development (from what she could tell) was his increase in muscle. She needed to find a place where the men were driven and had ambition, where they liked to work hard.

A sudden dose of inspiration hit Marinette and had her reaching for her phone, almost sending her flat on the floor.

This was it…

This was the plan.

Typing frantically on her phone, her eyes darted left and right as she read over the screen searching for exactly what she wanted, her thumbs moving in a chaotic fashion. Until suddenly, it was there right in front of her. She turned the phone around and showed Alya, the reporter's eyes changing from confusion to enlightened joy.

“That could actually work.”

“I need to be able to access the place as often as possible without it seeming weird or out of character, so a 24/7 gym would be perfect. I can go whenever and there’s one right by my university campus. It’s a win-win situation.” Marinette locked her phone before placing it down beside her notepad, taking the pen once more.

“Okay, I like it. It’s definitely something we can work with. So, what’s the plan? You join the gym and just hit on guys?”

“Alya, let’s be honest; I’m more likely to hit a guy than hit on a guy.”

Alya burst out laughing before standing and heading towards the kitchen, mug in hand ready to make her second cup of coffee that day. Marinette loved her friend, she truly did, but she couldn’t help but wonder how the woman didn’t get the runs from drinking so much caffeine. She brushed it off as life as a budding reporter; Marinette brushed it off as the life of a soon to be caffeine addict.

Moving to the kettle, Alya lifted it and headed to the tap, filling the base with water before positioning it back onto the stand and flicking the switch.

“Join some classes. If you do something like boxercise, it won’t matter if you hit the guy because that’s the whole point. They’ll just see it as a girl with some pizazz.” Folding her arms over her chest, Alya leaned one hip into the counter as she waited for the kettle to boil.

Marinette laughed. “If that’s what you call giving a guy a black eye, then I’m all for it. Can you make me mint tea if you’re having a coffee please?”

Her friend nodded, moving around the kitchen to find Marinette’s ‘Chat Noir’ mug. She grabbed it out of the cupboard and let out a little huffed laugh. “To be honest, Marinette, the blog would be so much better if it was just you dating Chat Noir. I’m sure he’d treat you like a Queen.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance. “I know he would because he’s caring and attentive, but it’s not going to happen, Alya. You’re making me start to panic that you'll let him know what I’m doing and where I’m going to be.”

“Do you really have that little faith in me?” She turned around to the tea caddies and began to put the correct item into the correct mug, making sure the cotton was hanging over Marinette’s mug, the string framing her partner’s face.

“No, but I know what you’re like.” Marinette pushed herself off the floor and headed into the kitchen, taking her old mug with her and running it under the faucet before opening the dishwasher and adding it to the previous day's crockery. She stepped towards the oven, taking the hand towel from the metal bar and drying her hands on it.

“I promise, this stays between you and me.”

“Pinky promise?” Marinette held up her pinky finger, ready for her friend to lock with. Marinette looked down at her hovering finger, nodding towards it only for Alya to nod back. She repeated the action again—nodding at her pinky.

“Alya? Come on–”

“You don’t trust me, do you? Do you seriously think I’d give your identity away that easily? Come on, girl, I’ve kept your ‘special little’ secret for years. What makes you think your abysmal dating record is going to make me spill?” Alya poured the water into the mugs before moving to the refrigerator and grabbing the bottle of milk.

She headed back to her coffee and poured in a generous helping, Marinette studying her with pursed lips. Did she trust Alya? Of course, after all, it was over five years ago that she spilled her secret and nothing had ever happened. Not yet anyway.

“Fine,” Marinette said, moving forwards and sliding the mug from under Alya’s arm, grabbing the tea bag string and bouncing it around a couple of times. Her lips pouted in consideration as to whether to say more on the matter or not.

Her roommate made her way back to their plotting area and sat down, placing the coffee mug on a coaster and looking up towards Marinette, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“I can hear you thinking over there,” Alya laughed, picking up her pen and turning her notebook to a blank page.

With a huffed out sigh of indignation, Marinette removed the tea bag and slammed it into the bin, the lid closing with as much oomph.

Grabbing the mug a little too forcefully, a sloshing noise was followed by a grunt as the hot water flew over the side and onto her hand; Marinette quickly swapped the mug over and sucked the now red raw skin.

“Chou shee,” she sucked the side of her finger a little harder trying to calm where the water hit, pulling it from her mouth with a ‘pop’. “This is the kind of thing that happens on dates with Marinette. Nobody wants to date this disaster. I’m a walking insurance claim; I can’t even pick up a cup.”

She continued forward and settled down opposite her friend once more, slowly and securely placing her ‘Chat Noir’ mug on her ‘Chat Noir’ coaster. Nope, she didn’t want to be with her partner at all, except the idea they could finally meet in civilian form was quite thrilling. She knew he’d read the blog and she knew he would be interested in where she’d decided to look.

“Do you want me to come with you? To the gym?”

Marinette shook her head. “No, I think this is something I need to do alone, but I promise the blog will get full disclosure of the good, the bad–”

“And the Marinette?”

Marinette once again grabbed the nearest cushion (her pride and joy Chat Noir one) and smacked Alya upside the head with it.

“I’m going to put in a claim for domestic violence if this continues.” Alya rubbed the back of the head, Marinette realising that Chat’s eyes had hit off her friend's head, eyes which were rather large plastic gems.

“Okay,” Marinette sighed, hugging the cushion into her chest and leaning forwards, eyes on the paper. “Let’s get planning.”

Chapter Text

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [1]

Dear Buginettes,

Five years ago I had my first taste of a relationship. I was young and burdened with so many responsibilities the relationship ended before it truly began. I haven’t had one since.

It’s been a long and winding road to get to this point, but now, as I approach my 20s, I’m inviting you all on a journey with me; a journey of discovery, confidence, and (hopefully) love. So for the next few weeks, I’ve set myself a mission to find and date a guy who will make my world spin.

As an ordinary citizen of Paris, I do not own the luck of my super alter ego. I don’t get the guys, I don’t get the longing looks or the flirting, I barely get a second glance, and those I’m lucky enough to get interest from struggle with my extracurricular activities. In other words, like many of the girls in Paris, I chose the wrong guy.

So here it is, my dating blog and I invite all you single ladies (and gentlemen) out there to join along with me to find love in the city which is made for it. The journey starts now…

Yesterday, I decided what I want from a prospective partner and where I could find someone with similar time constraints as myself.

I invite all you out there who are looking for love, to think about who you want your significant other to be.

Don’t want someone who parties a lot? Then don’t look in a club.

Want someone who loves to ice skate? Then, take some trips down to the rink.

It starts now…

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: 0

Guy’s numbers: 0

Dates Planned: 0

Dates Completed: 0

Hits: 2

Posted 30 seconds ago

“Wow! It’s like reading Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

“I’m telling you now, no one in their right mind is going to want to read this!” Marinette exhaled, moving towards the kitchen and the kettle; she needed another mint tea.

After the previous day's planning session, Marinette had spent most of the night writing up her first entry for the blog under her new account name: (Un)LadyLuck; she just prayed a little of that ‘Ladybug luck’ rubbed off into her civilian life. She needed it now more than ever.

As she’d pieced together her blog post the previous evening, she’d worn her delete button out typing then retyping the same sections over and over again. After her discussions with Alya, Marinette had decided to keep her whereabouts as vague as possible. After all, she didn’t want the people of Paris to start a mass hunt for Ladybug.

“Then obviously there’s a lot of people not in their right mind because the hit count is quadrupling by the second.”

Marinette almost broke the mug as she slammed it down on the countertop before heading over to Alya and jumping beside her on the sofa. She looked over her friend's shoulder at Alya’s smartphone, and low and behold, the hit count was jumping numbers left, right, and centre.

2 had become 8.

8 became 20.

30 became 72.

72 became 116.

Hit after hit, followed by comment after comment as people showed their support for the unlucky in love hero.

“This is insane!” Marinette commented, completely bamboozled by the public’s reaction.

“Not so much insane as a hit. Girl, you’re going to blow the server!”

All of a sudden the hit count jumped to four figures. Thousands of people were reading. Suddenly there were hundreds of comments, hundreds of very supportive comments.

“This is crazy!” Marinette began to read down the comments, overwhelmed by the response. How did so many people want to read this? Maybe Chat had been right all along and people did want to see her be ‘normal’.

Marinette scrolled down the comments glancing quickly at what the thousands (thousands!!!) of people were saying.

@Loveforthebug: This makes me sad and excited at the same time. We love you LB and I’m sure your Prince Charming is just waiting for you to rescue him.

@Ladyandthecat: What about Chat Noir? Why don’t you just date him?

@ChatNoir_Official: I’m proud of you, M’Lady. I’ve got your back 😉

@Bugalicious: Finally, a celebrity I can get on board with! Thank you for doing this Ladybug. Girls like myself always get looked over for those with the nicest hair and most expensive outfits; I’ll be following along with you, and hopefully we’ll both be celebrating finding the love of our lives together.

“You’re already a hit girl. Now we just need to get you down to the gym and start the search.” Alya was practically bouncing from one foot to the other, Marinette feeling like she may need to sedate her friend to get her to chill out.

“We are not doing anything. I am going to stop by the gym after my lecture to check out costs and classes.”

“Do you have a list of must haves? I mean, you’re going somewhere with a swimming pool right? That way you can check out the–”

Marinette put her fingers in her ears and began to sing at the top of her lungs; whatever Alya had to say could be put on hold because it was one step at a time and step number one was to survive the day. Moving back to her room, Marinette misjudged her step and walked into the doorframe.

She had to remove her fingers from her ears to grab hold of her head, Alya’s cackling echoing through the hallway as clear as crystal.

“The great Ladybug everybody,” she announced. Marinette growled in response as she headed back into her bedroom and prepared for what was going to be a very long day.

“So there are three different memberships. The first is anytime any day, then we have the weekend pass, and the after 5 pm pass.”

“Do the passes cover the classes as well?” Marinette flicked through the pamphlet she’d been handed mere minutes ago. It had been a whirlwind since she had entered the venue; information was being thrown at her along with questions about her own fitness level. She could only answer about half of them and panic at the rest.

No, she didn’t know her BMI.

No, she didn’t know what BMI stood for.

No, she most certainly didn’t want to be put on a healthy eating programme to improve said BMI.

She just wanted a man, not that she told them that.

Marinette was currently touring the venue with someone who could only be described as ‘A Rock’. It was still up for debate whether she meant that in the way of Dwayne Johnson, or a literal boulder, because the size of this guy made a cliff look small. He was huge! His thick veins made themselves known as they protruded out his neck, forearms, biceps, and head.

“Not the weekend pass. The evening one has limitations too; it will allow you access to the spin class, boxercise and Zumba, also one PT session a month.”

“And the pool?” Marinette indicated to the area they were just entering. The large rectangular pool looked inviting as hell. Maybe Alya had got it right this time, and a pool would be a good idea. She could imagine herself swimming a couple of laps before conversing with a handsome stranger in the jacuzzi…oh yes!

“Access comes with all memberships, which includes the sauna and steam rooms too.”

Marinette nodded as she continued walking through the venue. It was a beautiful place, situated in a hotel not too far from ESMOD, meaning she could easily venture there after class. The gym was in the basement of the building, along with a pool that was accented with mood lighting and was open 24 hours a day. It was perfect, and even if Marinette didn’t complete her challenge, the lightning and the general fitness classes and other equipment might actually be a good break for her mental health. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything at all for her, that included haircuts, manicures and waxing — the latter something to add to her ‘To Do’ list.

The manager, who had been showing her around, led her back to his office near the front desk and pulled out numerous sheets of paper and other documents. He grabbed a pen and placed it on top, ready for Marinette’s feedback.

She looked at the price list, and thankfully the night pass (after 5 pm) was perfect for her budget. Jagged Stone had just commissioned some extra work from her, so paying upfront for the year would be no problem.

“Now, I’m guessing you’re a student at ESMOD?” The manager said, leaning back in his chair and looking Marinette over.

She let out a little chuckle. “Did the outfit give it away?” she asked.

“Oh, yes. Though I must say, you seem to have a little more fashion sense than some of the other students who come through here. Anyway, because of our location, we have a mix of… people coming through those doors. Models, designers… those who are desperate to get audiences with said models and designers.” He laughed, folding his fingers through each other and resting them on the table.

The action had made his biceps flex, and she swore each one was thicker than her waist. How often did this guy lift weights?

“I understand.” Nodding, Marinette mirrored the guy’s action.

“I’m sure you do, so as an ESMOD student we do hope that your membership here is for the purposes of using the gym for fitness and not to go on a search for celebrities or connections.”

“I understand that, too.” Marinette announced. She found it quite comical really. She was Ladybug, probably the most famous woman in Paris, and had a friend who was a model with a father who just so happens to be a world famous designer. Not forgetting her own accomplishments as Marinette, after all, she had designed for Jagged Stone and Kitty Section.

“Now with that out the way, which of our memberships do you see yourself wanting to select?”

Marinette took a moment to study the list once more, making it seem like she hadn’t completely decided yet.

“Well,” she began, “with my schedule, the late night pass would definitely be ideal. I sometimes have insomnia or energy I need to burn off late at night, so this suits me perfectly.”

“And any classes?”

“I’d like to try them all,” Marinette stated, firmly. If she was going to do this then she was going to do it right. She’d try all the classes and all the different sessions included in the membership. She would even vary the times as much as possible. She’d committed to it, and one thing was for sure, once Ladybug had committed to something she stuck with it until the end.

“All? Including weightlifting?” The guy looked sceptical, but Marinette just shrugged.

“Why not? Is there anything against women doing it?” She crossed her arms over her chest, channelling her inner Ladybug only for the guy to look actually quite afraid, and was that a trickle of sweat running down his bald, shiny head? Ha!

“No, no, of course not.” He coughed a couple of times before pulling a timetable from a PVC holder on his desk and grabbing a highlighter. As he began to talk about crazy fitness mumbo-jumbo, Marinette took the opportunity to look around the room, her eyes landing on the Perspex window leading out into the gym area.

It was 7 pm, a time she would usually be here and it was actually quite busy and, luckily for her plan, very heavily male dominated. Men were everywhere. She made a quick scan with her eyes as the manager continued his spiel, looking to see if anyone stood out yet.

Nope. None so far.

Continuing her window shopping, she ended up transfixed on a group of girls standing near a smaller window at the fitness studio. They looked to be around her age and similar in stature to Chloé.

Bright blonde hair. Ridiculously skinny waists and legs. Fitness accessories everywhere, and a girlish giggle that made her skin crawl.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Her nose curled up at the display in front of her, her head reminding her that she hadn’t come here to make friends. The small relief that thought had given her was quickly wiped away when she realised she would be battling with many Malibu Barbies for attention.

She looked down, giving her thighs a quick glance over, she couldn’t let this intimidate her. Her legs were part of her, the muscle developed from years of jumping, squatting, and springing around to save Paris, so what if she was battling for a guy's attention against Miss Chicken Legs. She needed to believe in herself and believe in her body. It seemed this whole dating deal was bringing a lot more to the surface than she imagined, an array of insecurities suddenly floating to the surface.

“Is there a class going on at the minute?” she interrupted, the manager stopping his information about boxing gloves as curiosity won out.

“It’s our boxercise class. Great fun and works every part of the body. We mix it with boxing techniques to help give you an additional workout. See, most gyms will only partake in a 40 minute class; we like to extend ours to an hour.”

Marinette watched the girls scream and giggle again as they pointed to something or someone through the window.

“That sounds great.” She turned her head back. “Sign me up for next week.” Her smile was wide as she attempted to look enthusiastic, when really she just wanted to know who or what everyone was gawking at.

“It’s a full male class. You’ll be the only female. Are you okay with that? Most women don’t want to wreck their nails inside the gloves as I was saying before.”

She could have doubled over in laughter. Forget wrecking your nails when you spend most of your time hiding in sewers and jumping into sewerage water. Boxercise would be child's play.

“I’m not like other women,” she responded confidently, impressed that she’d seemed to get a look of respect from ‘The Rock’.

“I like you, Ms. Dupain-Cheng. You don’t seem to scare easily.”

She shrugged. “Comes with the job.”

“I didn’t realise you needed to be so fearless for fashion design.”

“You have no idea.” A smug look took over her face at the double meaning of her words. If only they knew.

He smiled at her again, and she was quite sure he either thought she was insane or he’d just found a boatload of respect for her.

“I’ll tell you what.” He pushed himself up from his seat and grabbed a clipboard. “How about you come and have a taster session?” He checked his watch. “It’s only been going 10 minutes, I’ll put you through a quick warm-up, and then you can jump right in. Call it a promotional freebie.”

Marinette smiled, standing and heading to where she had left her sports bag earlier. “Sounds great.”

Following ‘The Rock’ out of the office, he led her past the squealing girls and indicated the female changing room to her. “Get yourself ready, and I’ll meet you back out here in 5.”

“Sure.”

And with that, she entered the changing room ready to start her search for ‘the one’.

Marinette slammed her bag into the locker, closing and locking the object tightly, making sure all her items were safely secured.

Heading to the mirror with her hair tie in between her teeth, she began to gather her hair together and place it in a ponytail on the top of her head. She turned left and right in the mirror, bobble still in her mouth and one hand supporting her hair, as she viewed her chosen outfit. By chosen, she means the one Alya forced her to wear, an outfit that apparently showed off her best features and flattered her *cough* underdeveloped areas.

Sporting her side profile, she gave a quick glance at her rear, taking the hair tie from her teeth and wrapping it around tightly. She smiled to herself; that section of her body was definitely her favourite, and something even tens of thousands of squats couldn’t give you—benefits of being a hero. Her racerback vest was a size too large and lay perfectly over her body; damn she looked good. Now she just had to go and find a man.

Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and steadied her nerves. What had Alya said again? Ladybug is only awesome because she’s Marinette? Or something like that? She needed to believe it now more than ever because if she didn’t, Marinette was about to go and make quite a spectacle of herself; after all there was plenty of equipment and objects just lying around waiting for her feet to get tangled in.

She exited the changing rooms only to see the manager (clipboard in hand) talking to the girls who were still watching boxercise class, every now and then glancing in himself. Odd.

He turned his head towards the changing area, seeing Marinette heading over. It was a good job he spotted her as quickly as he did as she was about three seconds away from doing one of those awkward ‘yoohoo, I’m here’ waves, which was not at all the impression she wanted to make.

“You ready? I’ve spoken to the instructor, and he’s fine with you jumping in.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Marinette smiled, and taking care to tread carefully, she followed the manager over to a mirrored area where heavy duty mats were locked together on the ground.

The girls, reminiscent of ‘the plastics’ gave her a fleeting glance, and she knew if this was going to work, if she wanted to make sure she didn’t come off as weak, she needed to show that she had something they didn’t.

“Let’s start with some stretches. Okay, just sit down and put your legs into a straddle.”

Now, Marinette would like to claim it’s the years of being in her super suit that allowed her a near perfect straddle; however, the skill was actually a by-product of YouTube yoga sessions with Alya on a weekend. (It was no secret to Marinette what Alya wanted the extra ‘flexibility’ for.)

Marinette stretched tall, her back perfectly straight and relaxed forward, her arms opening out to hold her ankles as her stomach lay flat on the mats.

“Hello!”

The appreciative sounds from males nearby, which would usually disgust her, made her smile. Maybe for once Marinette will get a second look. Take that Ladybug.

She sat back up, the movement practically flawless as she noticed not only ‘the plastics’ looking at her, but also a couple of the men on the rowing machines and treadmills. She made a mental note to write about first impressions in her next blog.

They did a few more reps, changing every now and then to do one leg at a time, before taking it into back stretches and lunges. It was fair to say she’d nailed that section of the warm up.

“Very good, very good. Now let’s do some press ups and sit-ups; which would you like to start with?”

“Sit-ups, if that’s okay?” Marinette answered by manoeuvring herself onto her back and stretching her legs up into the air. “Is it okay to do them like this? I don’t get much pull from bent knees.”

The manager spluttered his answer as Marinette began, ‘the plastics’ now losing complete interest and turning back to whatever was happening in the studio. She had to admit she was getting quite curious now too.

Effortlessly completing 5 reps of 10, Marinette moved to full press ups gaining her more respect from the males in the area, a few now standing around to watch. For the first time in forever, she felt as powerful being Marinette as when she was Ladybug, and she had to admit it was thrilling.

Maybe this idea wasn’t as hideous as she believed, and maybe her Kitty will be rewarded for such a fabulous idea. She could make him a jumper as thanks, or maybe some of the macarons he liked.

Standing, she grabbed her towel and her drink, dabbing the nonexistent sweat from her forehead and taking a deep gulp of her water (from her Chat Noir water bottle, of course).

“The instructor has their star student in with them today, so I believe he’s going to pair you with him. That way, you can be shown the ropes and have someone to guide you.”

“Is he good looking?” Marinette questioned, one eyebrow raising as the manager gaped at her, his mouth making a great impression of a guppy.

She burst out laughing, dabbing her face once more for effect. “I’m only joking, I promise.” She held up her hands in surrender, and she could tell he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Making it to the studio’s door, she noticed ‘the plastics’ were once again eyeing her over.

Let them look, she thought, throwing a smile their way before she opened the door and entered the studio.

She was presented to the class like a prize winning puppy at Crufts. Each of the males in the room either waved, gave her a curt nod, or eyed her in a way that better give her the win for ‘Best in Show’. All apart from one.

Marinette looked to the corner where a guy was bent over messing in a bag, his phone to his ear. Luckily, he’d left her with a rather impressive view, one she was willing to add to her get to know list; after all, a rear like that was definitely worth the effort.

“Everyone to your partners. We’ll get started on some coordination work.” Everyone paired off as the instructor and the manager made their way to Marinette, the latter declaring she was being left in helpful hands and bolting from the studio.

“Nice to meet you,” the instructor greeted, and ‘nice’ he definitely was. He looked about 28, with a tan and the most perfect just working out hair — stylish and messy all at the same time.

“You too, so–” Marinette said, her eyes scanning the room. “Who’s going to be my partner?”

The instructor smiled his perfect, dimpled smile with wonderfully white teeth as he took Marinette over to the guy with the nice ass bag.

Finally ending his call, he placed the phone down and stood to his towering height, each muscle in his back rippling as it contorted and moved to its most comfortable position. Even from his back, Marinette could tell he was gorgeous, and even without seeing his face she knew he would make her top five.

His hair came into view next. Golden like the sunshine, though the sweat from his exercise regime had darkened it slightly, the droplets adding a sheen to his shoulders. Honestly, she was about to spar with Hercules, because there was no way this guy wasn’t linked to the Gods.

As he turned around she got the shock of her life, one so severe she fell backwards, knocking a whole selection of equipment down in her heist.

Oh wow! Great, Marinette.

Before she could push herself back to standing and recuperate her thoughts, a hand was in front of her face. A hand linked to emerald green eyes and hair brighter than the sun, a face she dreamed about day and at night. She couldn’t believe it! Out of every gym in Paris she had to walk into his.

She joined her hand with his and allowed him to pull her back onto her feet, steadying her by the upper arms once she was balanced again.

“T-t-thank you, Adrien.”

“You’re welcome, Marinette.”

Chapter Text

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [2]

First Impressions

Dear Buginettes,

I was always taught that your first impression can last a lifetime. Not just regarding how you look or what you say but about your body language and actions.

Ladybug would make a great first impression; she does make a great first impression. She is strong and powerful; she knows what to say and when to say it, always having the right words for any situation; my civilian identity, however, does the opposite.

Now, I hate labels. They conform us in a way that limits our own quirks and personalities, making us the same as others, but we’re not, we’re each unique and we are special, but that first impression can be knocked by the actions of others. But sometimes a group's actions can add a label to themselves; just as we can from the wrong words and actions.

On the first day of my search, a group of girls made me feel the smallest I ever have in my life. They looked, stared, glared, and although my confidence as a civilian is nowhere near that of my super form (after all I know what I’m doing there) in that moment, I made myself a promise, and that promise was to make myself known. To stand tall and proud.

So fellow ‘unlucky in love’ bugs here’s my next tip: Hit them with an impact they won't soon forget.

Bug out 🐞

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: 0

Guy’s numbers: 0

Dates Planned: 0

Dates Completed: 0

Hits: 206

Posted 43 seconds ago

“It can’t have been that bad, Marinette.”

“I punched the guy in the face.”

“You were boxing.”

“Correction, I was putting on my gloves.” Marinette grabbed a pillow from under her head and covered her face with it letting out a loud, harrowing scream.

Alya attempted not to laugh as she sat beside her friend on the edge of her bed, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound. “And what did he say again?”

A mumbling was heard behind the pillow before a whimper and another scream.

“Marinette, come on girl, I can’t hear you.” Stretching over, Alya pulled the pillow away from her face, only for Marinette to battle against it.

“Just let me die in peace.”

“Ladybug is not dying of self suffocation,” Alya sighed exasperatedly.

“You do it then. Just put me out of this misery. I told you this was a bad idea! Marinette Dupain-Cheng should not be allowed to date.” They wrestled with the pillow, Marinette coming off the winner and placing it securely back over her face.

Alya chuckled. “Was he really that hot? I’m sure you can still have him on your list; after all you’ll have made quite an impression on him.”

The mumbled words that came out of Marinette’s mouth made no sense at all. Alya leaned down towards her, listening intently to what Marinette was saying; trying to decipher the muffled words as she continued to speak. Even up close, though, she didn’t understand a single mumbled word coming from her best friend's mouth.

“Who’s under arrest?”

Marinette took the cushion off her face and slammed it down beside her, sitting up bolt right and, accidentally, pushing Alya off the bed.

“I right hooked Adrien Agreste in the face!”

It took a few seconds…maybe a minute…for Alya to truly understand the conversation. She blinked, Marinette blinked, she blinked again, then the laughter built; and what had started as a small bubbling in her stomach increased to a full throttle uncontrollable belly laugh.

“Girl, you better go and make me some popcorn because this is better than a movie!” She laughed again. “What did Buttercup say?”

“He wanted to know if my hand was okay or if he should get someone from first aid. Why is it always him I make a fool of myself in front of?”

Alya slowly stood from the ground and pulled herself back to sit beside Marinette. “What does he look like these days? I mean it’s been at least four months since I’ve seen him at Nino's. Poor guy can’t catch a break at the moment.”

Groaning again, Marinette dug the heels of her palms into her eye sockets and rubbed fiercely; the black floating dots warning her not to do it again. “Fit, Alya, and in more than just muscle mass. Honestly, he must spend all his spare time in the gym.”

“I hear his therapist said it would be a good stress relief for him. Nino said the guy’s even more chill than usual.”

Marinette sighed, her eyes going dreamy as she remembered the previous night and the effect of seeing Adrien Agreste’s butt cheeks.

“He’s still a dream.” Her voice was laced with longing and desire, and she couldn't help but kick herself for allowing him to affect her once more.

“So, yay or nay to your possibility list?” The reporter asked, as she moved from her spot and made her way over to the desk where Marinette’s notepad was lying. The small booklet which contained all their notes and details about the blog – and, hopefully, Marinette’s achievements – and brought it back to the bed. So far, Marinette had zero numbers, names and zero — unless…

“Do you really need to ask?”

Alya giggled whole heartedly and began to jot down Adrien’s name, dotting the ‘i’ with a little heart. Marinette looked over her roommate's shoulder. She groaned once more and dropped her head down onto her friend’s shoulder.

“Really?” she mumbled from her position.

“I just can’t believe out of all the gyms in the city you walk into his. It’s almost like you planned it that way.”

“I swear, I didn’t know. Honestly, it’s just once again, my super magnetic force brought me straight back to Adrien. I swear he wears a hidden Marinette magnet or something?”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the chiming of Marinette’s cell phone; both girls glaring at the object like it was going to explode. Alya stood again and made her way over to Marinette’s phone, taking it from where it was charging on Marinette’s desk and letting out the greatest witch cackle Marinette had ever heard. Winifred Sanderson, watch out!

“No!” Marinette exclaimed, shaking her head. “No, no, no!“

“Yes, yes, yes! Buttercup has once again resurfaced, thanks to the mighty pull of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Alya stretched the phone in the air, holding it like a crazy scientist's experiment.

Marinette stood from her bed before marching over and snatching the phone, rather ungracefully, out of her friend's grasp. “Give me that.”

Looking down at the screen, low and behold, there was Adrien’s name front and centre.

“Oh no, what do you think he wants?” Marinette worried. She clutched her phone into her chest, a means to ignore the sender of the message.

“Here’s an idea… read it.”

“What if he’s messaging to tell me Gabriel’s on the way? That I’ve damaged his face for the rest of his life, and now I’m being sued for his loss of earnings.” Marinette took about two breaths as she spoke, rambling out all her fears as she spoke to Alya.

Alya moved forward, grabbing Marinette by the shoulders and giving her a shake.

“Get… a… grip! No one is suing you. Adrien doesn’t even model anymore, remember? He’s probably just messaging to check on your hand. The decent thing you could do is message him back to check on his face.”

Marinette sighed, pulling the phone from her chest, her eyes burning into the screen as she studied Adrien’s name. It had been months since he had messaged her, and after last night she was worried he’d never speak to her again.

She swiped up, closed her eyes abruptly, and slammed the phone into Alya’s hand. “You do it!”

Rolling her eyes, Alya took the phone from Marinette’s hand, the latter peeping through her fingers to look at her friend’s facial expressions. As Alya’s eyes widened, Marinette dropped her hands and stared at her friend, willing her to hurry up and put her out of her misery – hands clutched at her chest and covering her heart.

“Oh, Marinette,” Alya said, locking Marinette’s phone and shaking her head.

“W-w-what’s happened?” Her fingers began to fidget as her heart rate increased. She was sooo going to jail for bodily harm.

“I’ll need to call Nino,” her friend said, avoiding Marinette’s question as she handed the phone back and took her own from her pocket. Her face was forlorn; the ‘head shake’ only added to its ambience. “He’s going to be gutted.”

“Oh my goodness! I’ve killed Adrien Agreste.” Marinette squeaked, rushing to unlock her phone and find the message.

Her thumbs fumbled to open the correct app, taking her six attempts to select the correct one. She read the message, her heart rate calming down as she considered ways to throw Alya out the window.

“You’re a bitch; you know that?” Marinette said, looking from her phone to her friend who stood proudly in front of her.

“So, Ladybug, can we rank him as number one?”

Marinette sighed.

Name a time when he wasn’t.

Ladybug landed on the rooftop where she’d arranged to meet Chat Noir just after lunchtime. They’d scheduled a two hour patrol, which usually meant between three and four—not that they minded, of course.

However, today had to finish on time because she was meeting Adrien Agreste (yeah boy!) at the gym for him to help her with her cardio workouts. Marinette had her own ideas for that specific type of workout, but her ideas were only compliant if she was dating the guy first.

She paused on a rooftop opposite where her partner stood and noticed something rather obscure. Her usual rambunctious companion, who wasn’t phased by anything and oozed self confidence, looked mithered. She stood watching him for a while, his strut taking him from one end of the rooftop to the other, one hand fisted under his chin as he muttered to himself.

He looked crazy, discombobulated, and just stressed; in all, it was quite a worrying sight to behold. Continuing her way over to the meeting point, she landed in front of him only to startle him out of his thoughts and send him stumbling backwards – right off the rooftop.

Flinging out her yo-yo as fast as possible, she managed to catch him by the ankle and pull him back slowly and securely across the rooftop. The fake smile on his face met her eye as he drew level.

“LB! Hey,” he greeted, his usual salute following.

She studied him as he straightened himself up and brushed the nonexistent dirt from his suit. She was curious as to what had unnerved her partner, a slight tightening in her chest from the thought that maybe he was about to ask her out again.

“You okay, Kitty? I couldn’t help but notice you seem a little out of sorts?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, a little too quickly if you asked her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow in question.

“No?” He questioned in response to her look, only for her to tilt her head a little to the side. “Maybe?” He shrugged, before sighing. “I don’t know.”

He began to rub his eyebrows, head shaking from side to side as he considered what to say next, only to give up and collapse down on the rooftop instead. She watched him curiously. Over all their years of partnership, she’d never seen him so unbalanced. His legs were crossed, his knees bouncing, and the incoherent muttering started again.

Sitting beside him, crossing her own legs, she took one of his hands and held it between both of hers. “You know you can talk to me, right? That I’m here for you.”

He shifted in his seat. “I feel kind of awkward talking about this specific thing with you.”

She winced and dropped his hand. The deepness of their bond suddenly being put into question. He quickly twisted around in his seat, taking her hand in between his. “No, I didn’t mean it like that, merde. I don’t think I said what I meant correctly. Let me try again.”

He let go of one hand, fisting it and taking it to his mouth letting out a little cough. “There’s this…” he took another deep breath preparing to speak. “There’s this…”

He trailed off on the last word, her head moving in closer to try and hear what he was saying. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“A …”

This time he turned his head away, his voice sounding out somewhere over the rooftop and once again evading her ears. “Come on, Kitty. You can tell me.”

He looked at her, looked out of Paris, back at her, and suddenly she was beginning to get worried. He wasn’t going to leave her, was he?

“There’s this…girl.”

Oh.

Oh.

OH!

“What?” The shock radiating from that one word was probably not her best idea. It had come out loud from the revelation and slightly unbalanced, causing her partner to recoil back in shock.

Chat Noir looked as though she’d struck him—hard.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out. It was meant to be more like a ‘what? That’s great! Why didn’t you say something sooner?’” Her fake smile did nothing to make her words seem believable; if anything she seemed even more fake than she was before.

How had she actually meant the word? A nagging feeling hung around in the pit of her stomach as she tried to gather her thoughts together.

So, Chat Noir had a girl? She couldn’t help wondering how long this had been going on and how much she had missed. Hadn’t he wanted to kiss her mere days ago?

“Just ask the questions, LB; you deserve to know the truth.”

Ask the question? Would it be possible to ask a question about what the question was? Or would that just open the door to more possible questions about questions?

“Questions?”

“Yeah,” he said, deflated. His shoulders drooped a good couple of inches as his body exhaled out, what seemed to be, his entire respiratory system. Ladybug was slightly worried he was about to pass out. “A couple of days ago, I’m all over you asking for a kiss, and now suddenly, ‘I have a girl.’” He used his index fingers in air quotes, framing the words her heart was playing ping pong with.

“Well, I’m not going to lie. It is a little bit of a shock.”

“And… how does it make you feel?” He bent his head down, looking at his hands now firmly joined in his lap.

“If I’m not going to lie?” And, of course, she wouldn’t, apart from the obvious (secret identities) they’d agreed to be truthful, even when it came to things like this.

Was it awkward? Sometimes.

Had it helped their partnership? So, so much.

“I actually don’t know how it makes me feel?” she continued. She never saw the day coming when Chat Noir wouldn’t love her. It just seemed like a natural and organic part of her life: like her parents' love for her or her love for Adrien.

Chat declares his love… she denies… they carry on their day. She had never thought this routine would change.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “To be honest, it’s always been the two of you. She’s a really special girl.” He let out such a love sick laugh that she almost vomited over the side of the rooftop. “I met her around the same time as you, and to be honest if she’d been who I’d met first… well…”

He didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. If he’d met her first, he would have gone after her first; the unspoken words were as clear as day.

“I’m happy for you. Everyone deserves love.” Her lips had suddenly grown extremely dry and craved the touch of her tongue to soften them once more. Her heart was hammering in her chest, struggling to break free and be heard; the reaction startled her. Her eyes widened at the realisation that this wasn’t her normal feelings for Chat Noir, yet she still wouldn’t allow her head to place them.

“Hum,” he let out a little laugh, “I’m just trying to get to know her again at the moment. There’s a long way until we get to the ‘L’ word.”

Ladybug attempted to smile at her partner, knowing full well it was as fake as Chloé Bourgeois’s blonde hair. This was the first time she’d ever heard him, truthfully, mention a girl or a girlfriend, or anyone he liked. It had always only been about her and now… there was this someone else. Someone she didn’t know anything about, but someone who’d managed to capture her sweet kitty’s heart, a heart she never considered she’d have to share.

Was she a nice girl? Would she look after him? Would him being in a relationship affect their easy going relationship? How would he feel in her shoes? Actually, she thought, scrap that last question.

He was still talking; words of praise and awe were thrown out about this mystery girl who apparently sparkled greater than all the stars in the sky. She looked up at said stars and had never been more grateful for the city’s air pollution, as the gradually darkening sky was once again clouded over, stopping the stars from being seen. If she couldn’t see the stars, and couldn’t see the glittering lights, then it didn’t exist. She, whoever she was, couldn’t sparkle like something that wasn’t there.

“I’ve actually decided to follow your dating blog.”

She looked towards him and couldn’t help but notice the nervous neck rub as he admitted that he, the great Chat Noir and Paris’ number one hero, needed dating advice, and from her too. She could have collapsed with laughter there and then. What a joke! Did he not understand what a failure she was when it came to love.

“Oh!” She had no idea what else to say. Was there anything else she could say?

“Yeah, and believe me there was definitely an impression when we met again for the first time in quite a while.” He laughed to himself, and she couldn’t help the cringe smile forming on her face as she remembered her incident with Adrien last night.

“Sounds like she’s really made an impact on your heart.” She looked over at him and saw the most genuine, caring smile she’s ever seen on his face.

He let out a small laugh and she missed the words that followed. Something about a face?

He looked gorgeous. His perfect white teeth gleaming against the backdrop of Paris, his eyebrows softening, looking so ridiculously happy her heart overflowed with feelings of longing and loneliness. She always wished someone would look at her this exact way. If this was how he looked thinking about this girl, she couldn’t help but be jealous of her.

Oh, merde, what was this cat doing to her heart?

“So?” Ladybug coughed. She moved and attempted to get more comfortable on the rooftop. She wasn’t entirely sure if the intolerable feeling was external or internal. “When will you see her again? If you haven’t seen her for a while, how come you have time now?”

“I was actually really lucky as she kind of fell into my lap. Who knows? Maybe she’s following your blog too.”

…And wouldn’t that just be the way. Another couple helped by the amazing matchmaking skills of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She closed her eyes. It had to happen for her one day; it just had too! It was her turn, dammit! She’d waited long enough; there just had to be someone out there who loved her like this.

“You’ll have to keep me informed.”

“I’ll do what I can. Identities and all.”

Ladybug nodded in response, her own rules kicking her hard in the ass. Patrol continued for another 30 minutes, Ladybug deciding she’d had enough of his love sick sighs and called it a day. Concentrating on her own love life and heading back to her apartment. She packed her gym bag ready to meet Adrien, hoping that tonight would be the start of her own romance.

She didn’t know if it was her competitiveness or the overpowering jealousy of her partner, but one thing was for sure, by the end of the evening, she was going to have a date, and if she got her way, that date would be with Adrien.

Chapter Text

Walking out of the changing room, Marinette couldn’t help but feel good about herself. The free Fabletics outfits sent to Ladybug on multiple occasions had finally come in handy. The fit around her glutes were perfect, the leggings appearing almost like a second skin, one equivalent to that of her suit. Thank goodness the outfit was black and not red.

She looked around for Adrien. He said he was here from 7, and now it was 7:30; she just needed to…

As her eyes searched her surroundings, they finally landed on a mop of untamed blond hair lying over a weight bench. The occupant of the hair was, very impressively, lifting, what she guessed, was double his body weight. This was an unexpected yet glorious sight to behold.

Okay, so she might have been slightly exaggerating the weight, but still… phwoar!

She tilted her head to one side, studying the trainer alongside Adrien before looking down at the man himself.

Holy smokes!

He was wearing a grey vest top meaning his biceps were completely on display for her viewing. The tension in them made her mouth water as he effortlessly lifted the weight time and time again. She never realised he was that strong.

“Girls, we’ve just made it.”

Looking to the side, she noticed ‘the plastics’ were there too, ogling Adrien like he was some sort of meat.

“One more, Adrien,” the trainer said as Adrien prepared the bar for one more rep. “Great work today!”

Adrien filled his cheeks with air as he lowered the heavy weight onto his chest, exhaling and lifting it to a full locking, delicious height. Oh goodness! Suddenly her thoughts ran wild with visions of Adrien carrying her completely at ease. Swoon! She could just imagine it now as he cradled her to his chest and took her to safety.

The trainer supported the weight from his hands, helping him drop it on the stand before helping Adrien to sit up. A celebratory handshake, a fist bump, and finally Adrien turned his head, his eyes locking with hers.

He broke out into a wide, wonderful lop-sided grin – one so perfectly Adrien. Standing up, he grabbed a towel and wiped his head, jogging in her direction. He stopped, standing in front of her and slinging the towel around his neck.

“Hey, Marinette.”

Adrien swooped down to her level and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The plastics huffing in discontent as Adrien showered her in affection. After kissing her cheek he took her into a hug, her arms remaining at her side and cheeks beginning to grow a wonderful shade of beetroot.

Oh, merde, she wasn’t ready for Hercules to come and hug her.

“Sorry,” he laughed, slightly embarrassed. He pulled himself away from her body. “I’m probably disgustingly sweaty.” He reached up to rub the nape of his neck, his cheeks suddenly containing a tinge of red that Marinette was sure wasn’t just from physical exertion.

“It’s okay. You can sweat on me anytime.” Her eyes widened in shock at what she had just said. “I mean, I want your sweat on my body. No, no – I mean you’re fit. Physically. Attractive. I –” she placed her hands over her face and let out a rather large whimper.

“Oh my, what does he see in her?”

“What a mess!”

Marinette looked down, the shame taking over as she heard the plastics commenting on her behind her back. Just what she needed!

“Come with me,” Adrien said, placing a hand on her lower back and guiding her away. “Let me show you the ropes. I’m all yours for the evening.”

Marinette looked up at him, only to find his stern face glancing over her shoulder and in the direction of the other girls that had been standing and staring. Had he said that for their benefit? Or was he just trying to save her from the girls’ bitterness?

“Okay,” she breathed out, allowing him to guide her around the venue. They’d walked in silence when, without warning, Adrien stopped and looked towards Marinette. Her knees went weak from the glistening joy in his eyes. Maybe it was the endorphins from his workout? But she couldn’t help the little thrill inside that it might be for her.

“I’m sorry about them. I call them ‘the plastics’. I know, I know, it’s not nice to call people names. But they just remind me of ‘Mean Girls’.”

Marinette giggled, using one hand to cover her mouth.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, a slight laugh leaving his mouth.

“I call them the same thing.”

He broke into a delicious grin.

“Well, Glen Coco, what brings you here? It doesn’t seem like you need to work out. You look pretty impressive without the need for all of this. I mean, your body’s amazing… You’re really toned… your legs are perfect… your glutes… your… oh boy!” She watched him close his eyes: obviously she wasn’t the only one accustomed to verbal diarrhoea. “You look good, Marinette. How come you’re here?”

She cringed. Was she going to tell him the truth?

I mean obviously it would be good for him to know; if he’s been here a while then maybe he knows some of the guys, or maybe he might want to throw his own hat in the ring. She stood frozen, staring at him as she had an internally monologued about how to respond.

She was 19 years old, and by now she should’ve been able to talk to Adrien… her friend, her buddy, her gym partner who was wearing joggers that clung delectably around his assets. Even with the huge sweat streaks under his armpits and down his back, he was still a God walking this Earth. Calling him Hercules previously was nowhere near good enough for this look.

“Promise you won’t judge?” she finally answered, deciding that honestly was the best policy.

“Never,” he stated.

“Swear on your anime collection.”

He gasped and moved his hands over his heart, one on top of the other. “You fiend!” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing a hip out to the side as she raised her eyebrows at him; Adrien broke out into a guffaw of a laugh.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, but yes, I swear on my anime and manga collection. Which, by the way, I think you still have at least 6 of?”

“That was four years ago, Adrien. How can you remember?”

“I remember a lot about you, Marinette.” They stood staring, her stomach doing some weird somersaults and a hard fluttering she’d never felt around him before. Maybe it was gas? What had she eaten before coming this evening? Nothing? Damn, she was hungry, that must’ve been the reason. Once she’d finished here, she’d go search for a Big Mac or something.

She sighed, Adrien standing looking at her expectantly. “Ok, so you know Ladybug is writing a dating blog? I - um - I thought I might follow it.” She hadn’t realised her hands were winding around each other in front of her – a nervous twitch from telling her crush that she was here actively trying to find someone to date.

“And you thought of a gym as a good place to look?” He raised an eyebrow at her, his lips pulling deliciously with it.

“It just fits in with my schedule. Plus, it’s close to ESMOD and mine and Alya’s apartment.” She shrugged. “It just seemed a good option,” until I saw you, she thought.

“Awww, the girl pad. I still haven’t had a chance to come and visit. Maybe, if you’ll have me, I could come see it soon—bring Nino with me? Pizza too?”

Her heart began to rejoice and sing fluffy love songs. Would she ever not want this guy? “You drive a hard bargain, Agreste,” she pondered. “I might give you your missing manga back too.” She winked, froze, then whimpered. Within their exchange, she seemed to have forgotten who she was talking to. It had become so easy and fun, just like when she was talking to… no! Oh no!

How had her brain got Adrien and Chat mixed together?

“That would be cool,” he said casually. Thoughts still caught up in how Chat Noir had squeezed himself in her head, and she’d missed the look Adrien had given her. The one that always made her weak in the knees. “So,” he coughed, “any options for possible dates so far?”

She looked up at him, pink bubbles surrounding his head as she fluttered her eyelashes and said in the most sultry and sexy voice she could muster up.

“You, Adrien. It’s always been you.”

He bent down and picked her up, swinging her around, both giggling. He lowered her down and began to caress her face, his smile to die for as he moved in closer and closer, his eyes studying her lips like they were the stars in the night sky.

She closed her eyes and puckered her lips, ready to meet his… closer, closer and…

Cue the record scratch because what actually happened was she panicked. She panicked hard, which ended up with her pointing to a random guy stepping up to the cycling equipment. “Him?”

She winced, and from the way Adrien’s body tensed next to her, he was wincing too. The guy, who she thought was named Paul, stepped up to the machine with a tee soaked in sweat. Sweat that, unlike Adrien’s attractive man lines, had taken over his top, and she couldn’t work out if it was originally grey or black.

“Him? Really?”

Adrien's shocked voice only added to the internal berating she was giving herself. Her lips screwed up, eyebrows frowning as she nodded.

“Yep,” she squeaked out, “him.”

“Marinette, I don’t want to judge your tastes in men. But are you sure? I mean, he’s not exactly the same standard as Luka is he?”

She couldn’t help the noise that escaped her mouth; not sure if it was from her awful choice in men or because Adrien had brought up her one and only previous relationship. She looked between Adrien and Paul again. Dammit, she would have to commit to this now.

“I want to try something different from Luka.” She mumbled, and what the hell was she thinking? This was on the complete opposite end of the spectrum.

“Different is definitely one word to describe him. The dude just put a can of Pringles in the bottle holder.”

“Perhaps he’s just on a high carb diet?” Now she was just talking out of her ass. Oh dear Lord!

“Well,” Adrien seemed to sigh defeatedly. “If that's what you want, let’s go get him.”

“What?” Her voice raised at least four octaves. Adrien wasn’t actually going to help her with this, was he?

Marinette had never wanted to be swallowed into the depths of hell more as Adrien gave her a slight push in the direction of Paul and his Pringles, Pringles Paul. She looked at his hair slicked back into a ponytail; her brain trying to figure out if he was sporting a perm.

Adrien tapped her on the shoulder, dropping her a ‘go get ‘em wink’ before he made his way to the treadmills. The machines where she would meet him once she had gotten herself a date. A date she didn’t want to go on and with someone who seemed to be more interested in getting Netflix on his bike's screen than actually doing any type of physical exercise.

She turned back to Adrien, catching an expression on his face she hadn’t seen before, one that made her heart weep. He looked sad, and she had no idea why. He noticed her staring and changed the look to his usual smile, the one she knew he used when he thought that’s what people wanted to see.

Adrien gave her two thumbs up, the nod of his head a clear sign he wanted her to go for it. Taking a deep breath she turned back and walked up to Pau; her dreams moving further away with each and every step she took.

“Hi,” she said, “Paul is it?” She already hated every moment of this.

“Hey. You’re that flexible girl, right? Quite impressive.”

She watched as Paul selected the latest episodes of what looked to be some type of horror show and popped the lid of his Pringles, his legs starting slowly on the machine and his mouth munching on the rather large amount of snack he’d taken from the tub and shoved into his mouth.

“Oh, um, thanks. I was just wondering if you fancied grabbing a drink sometime. I’m new here and wanted to make some new friends.” There was no chance she was implicitly asking this guy out on a date. Yes, she thought she might have to date around, but as Paul reached into the tub again and shoved another lot of potato snacks into his mouth, Marinette was sure he was 100% not her type.

“Sure.” He sprayed crumbs over Marinette in response to her question. Her body cringed at the disgusting display in front of her. Had no one ever told him not to talk with his mouth full?

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. “Great. Have you got your phone on you? I’ll give you my number?”

He handed her his phone, asking her to name herself ‘Flexible Girl’ before agreeing to meet her at a local Italian restaurant the following evening. She wasn’t sure whether to celebrate because she had something for the blog or cry because she would have to go on a date with this guy. A guy still shoving Pringles in his mouth like a starved man and laughing at someone being beheaded by a chainsaw.

Crying seemed like the best option.

Turning around, she walked over towards where Adrien was programming a couple of treadmills. She gave him a fake smile followed by two thumbs up, walking to stand beside him and watch how he was setting the machines up.

“It went okay then, I take it?” He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes firmly placed on the equipment and pressed buttons instead, each beep causing her heart to plummet.

“We’re going out for food tomorrow night, more of a ‘getting to know you thing’ than a date.”

“Hum.” Adrien continued what he was doing before indicating for Marinette to step up onto the treadmill as he positioned himself on the one beside her.

They began to move in tandem in a steady paced walk at a slight incline. She gazed over at him, slightly moving her head to see what he was doing. His jaw was set in a position that made his cheekbones razor sharp. His face was pure perfection, and even though Gabriel Agreste was an asshole, he’d created something wonderful in Adrien — inside and out.

“Are you going alone?” Adrien’s words came out of thin air. He still wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he reached forward and changed the setting on his machine, increasing the speed and taking himself into a slight jog.

She moved towards her controls, matching his speed and then setting it a couple of paces faster.

“Yes.”

Adrien stretched forward again, upping his speed to double Marinette’s. The fencer was able to make it look effortless as his feet pounded against the track like an Olympic marathon athlete.

“Do you think that’s safe? You don’t know the guy?”

“I’ll probably tell Alya. She knows I’m following the blog, and as she’s always on her phone, she’ll come and save me.” She looked to the side and studied Adrien’s speed, increasing hers to match before pushing herself 5 extra paces.

Adrien turned his head to look at her, the quick action causing her to stumble a little and lose her footing. She grabbed hold of the bars and jumped, putting her legs out onto the still surface before looking down and preparing to reset her pace. She counted to five in her head before jumping back on and continuing her pacy run. She looked up and over to Adrien, only to notice he was staring in the direction of Paul, his jaw once again set in stone.

One thing Marinette always admired about Adrien was his eyes. They always sparkled with mischief and curiosity, love and compassion but right now, he looked more daring and dangerous. Right now, the glint was one of extreme protectiveness; her stomach doing that funny flutter again.

She looked down, checking her feet were still moving in rhythm and time of the machine. 1 – 2 – 1 – 2 – 1 – 2. She was back on track when the beeping next to her startled her.

Adrien had increased both the incline and the speed. His feet were pounding hard against the track, sweat coating his hair, head, and shoulders. This is what sportswear commercials were about. Pure male masculinity and swoon worthy biceps. Okay, maybe that was just her. But the view was mesmerising. She looked out in front of her, noticing ‘the plastics’ were all stretching, each of them presenting specific body parts to Adrien. The sight was enough to make her gag.

Marinette looked down at the control panel and then at her legs. She was moving well, had a regular pace and, to be honest, it was feeling quite easy. She looked again at Adrien’s settings and decided to match, pressing the button to raise the front of her track before increasing the speed.

“Don’t worry about Alya,” Adrien said, his voice barely heard over the erratic thud of their feet.

Marinette began to move backwards a little, struggling to maintain her speed at the selected incline. She knew Adrien was talking but, right now, she needed to concentrate on what the machine was doing, and not falling off; pushing herself she climbed up and back towards the controls. Once she was there, she could decrease the incline and maybe slow it down a little. She’d just made it to the top when Adrien’s words hit her with an impact equivalent to driving very fast into a very hard wall.

“I’ll come with you.”

Those four little words caused her legs to tangle into an intricate web of limbs. One greater than the power of her yo-yo as she lost all momentum and timing before being thrown backwards off the machine. She closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for the impact, only to be cushioned from the blow. She continued to stumble backwards; however, when they hit the wall it wasn’t her back that had taken the impact.

The sound of air leaving someone’s lungs was the only indication someone else had taken the brunt of the fall because right now, she was numbly looking at the two empty treadmills.

He’d saved her.

Adrien Agreste had saved her.

Coming back to the present, she felt the tightening around her waist and Adrien’s chin on her shoulder as he breathed heavily into her ear.

“Are you okay?” His hot breath hit her shoulder and sent a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes and moulded herself into his body. His arms were firmly wrapped around her waist, protective and secure, and his body cradled her perfectly. It was a place she wanted to stay in forever — his body to hers.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

Her eyes opened once more, and her hands moved from where they’d placed themselves on top of Adrien’s. “I’m okay.”

He spun her around in his arms, her eyes coming into contact with his. The sweat between them was forgotten as Marinette got lost in the eyes that filled her dreams day after day. She watched his Adam’s apple move as he gulped and placed his hands on her hips, his eyes never leaving hers as he steadied her once more.

“I think we need to take things slower,” he whispered. A slight husk in his voice as his chest moved with deep, settling breaths. Her own hands braced herself on his upper arms; the feel of his skin against hers only added to the mortification of the situation.

“Slow and steady wins the race, right?”

He smiled – his perfect, white straight teeth.

“Just watch out for the false starts.”

Marinette wasn’t sure they were just talking about the running machine anymore as he continued to keep his complete attention on her, her legs threatening to give way and leave her in a heap on the floor.

One of his hands left her hip, the cool air hitting the spot and sending a chill down her spine, his hand slowly guiding itself to her face, where he pushed a stray strand of hair from where it had placed itself on top of her eyelashes. He moved the small section of hair behind her ear, gently brushing her skin as his fingertips passed. She melted into the touch, allowing her eyes to close and memorise every feeling and effect.

Marinette’s dreams from the past resurfaced. Her, Adrien, three kids, a hamster… then the warmth of his touch disappeared as did the dream, only to be replaced by a rather large, black cat.

Her eyes shot open to find Adrien had moved away. His hand travelled to the back of his neck as he rubbed against his skin. “We better turn the machines off.”

He walked past her, concentrating on the task at hand, leaving her heart empty and alone. She looked towards where Paul was still on the cycling machines, laughing to himself and eating his Pringles before turning her attention back to her friend.

Oh, how she wished Adrien would be the one on the date with her!

Chapter Text

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [3]

Kiss some frogs before you meet your Prince

Dear Buginettes,

So last night I decided to ask a guy out. Yes! You heard that right; I was the one asking. Usually I wouldn’t dream of such a thing; however, this is my search, and if I want to find the guy that is perfect for me, I need to stop sitting on my butt and start to do something for myself.

Life isn’t a fairytale, and if there is something you want, you need to go after it, whether it be a job or a boyfriend.

It has now been three days since I’ve started my journey to find love, and although there’s still a very long way to go, I’m proud to announce I have my first date this evening.

I can’t say whether this guy is the love of my life or whether it’ll even lead to a second date, but you have to start somewhere, right?

So tonight I will be putting on my best dress and heading out. All you Buginette’s out there will have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out how it went.

For now,

Your nervous – yet optimistic – Ladybug.

Wish me luck,

Bug Out 🐞

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: 1

Guy’s numbers: 1

Dates Planned: 1

Dates Completed: 0

Hits: 699

Posted 10 seconds ago

@ChatNoir_Official: Good Luck Bugaboo 😘

@Ladynoirstan_1995: Still can’t believe you two aren’t together @ChatNoir_Official 😔

@ChatNoir_Official: @Ladynoirstan_1995 I promise M’Lady and I still have a deep and meaningful connection; however, at this point in our lives, our paths are not ready to cross. I can’t comment on the future, but for now, we’re supporting each other in this journey 110%

@FortheloveofChat: @ChatNoir_Official does that mean you’re looking for love too? Oh wow, I could go on a date with Chat Noir? Where do you hang out? I’m guessing comedy clubs… I’m going to scale all of Paris until I find you. Paws off, girls! This one’s mine.

@Chatsbiggestfan: Chat Noir is looking for love! Oh, this is the best news ever!

@Ladyisabug: I knew he was too good for Ladybug. Good luck Chat! Go out there and find someone deserving of you and who appreciates you for everything you do.

@LadyandtheStray: @Ladyisabug How can you say that? They’re both best friends and anyone can see how much they adore each other, even if it’s not love.

@Ladyisabug: Go preach to someone else Cat Lady! Ladybug hasn’t blinded me! That’s why I didn’t vote for her in the Cosmopolitan poll. She doesn't even make my Top 10! She’s just a bug!

@CN_fan_62: @Ladyisabug I think you need to think before you type. Ladybug is a normal girl, and as we can see from this blog she just wants to find love, like most girls her age.

@AA_Longlastingpower: Ladybug is free to make her own choices. She does what she can in extremely difficult situations.

@Ladyisabug: @AA_Longlastingpower you sound like some sort of fanboy/girl! Go recharge yourself, you outspoken battery.

@Turtle-y_Awesome: @Ladyisabug you do realise you’ve just insulted Adrien Agreste right?

@Ladyisabug: @Turtle-y_Awesome HA! Yeah right! Like Adrien Agreste would post in a blog forum!

PM

To: @(Un)LuckyLady🐞 CC: @TheLadyblogger

From: @ChatNoir_Official

Girls? I think you need to close the comments or something. It's getting a little out of hand.

Sorry 😿

@TheLadyblogger has closed commenting on this post.

Marinette stood outside the doorway to the restaurant, rubbing her hands together to gain some sort of warmth. The weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse, and if it wasn't for her furry headband and warm coat, she was quite sure she’d be an ice sculpture right about now.

Lifting her hands to her mouth, she blew hot air on them whilst cursing herself for not wearing gloves. What was she thinking rushing out without extra precautions? It was February, not May! The cold front setting in from the North only made her question whether or not she should move south. After all, Ladybugs are renowned for feeling the cold, and being close to the equator sounded heavenly right now.

Over the past hour, she had become a little obsessed with reading the comments on her latest blog post. Seeing herself get dragged so low by the one commenter she couldn’t ignore the intense feelings of hurt. She knew some people had a problem with her, she wasn’t naive to think everyone would always like her, but the comments were harsh and unfair – and in some ways; spot on.

Chat Noir deserved more than what she could give him, and by the details of their last meeting he had already found that person. The whole exchange still left a bitter taste in her mouth. He was, seemingly, moving on successfully whilst she was about to put herself through something more uncomfortable than a tooth extraction at the dentist.

She began to bounce on the balls of her feet, anything to keep her circulation going. But, as she did her mind began to replay last night and the exchange with Adrien at the gym. He’d saved her, helping her keep her dignity as she, once again, made an absolute arse out of herself. His continuous sunshine demeanour was there, again, to guide her and make her feel better—even if she almost created a Marinette shaped hole through the wall.

Neither quite knew what to say to the other as they’d left, instead parting with an awkward handshake and cringeworthy smile. Just before he left, Adrien asked Marinette to promise to text him about her date: time, place etc, sticking with his plan to be there for her safety and as her wingman.

Marinette continued to pace, anything to keep the bitter cold from hitting her and causing a spectacle of herself; just another issue that Adrien would get to see. Her forever crush was about to witness a spectacular Marinette Dupain-Cheng first date disaster. An epic fail at an Italian restaurant where the food tasted like plastic with ‘Pringles Paul’ and his impressive back sweat — a guy she didn’t even like. Goodness, she hoped he’d showered before turning up tonight. If she was going to tolerate a couple of hours with him, the least he could do was come clean.

She sighed and pulled her phone from her coat pocket, checking the time before placing it back in its place. Her heels bounced up and down, once more, against the cold concrete slabs. If he didn’t hurry up, she was going home. She was cold and hungry, and wanted nothing more than to chill and read her latest romcom book.

5 minutes… she’d give it 5 minutes.

“Marinette.” A nasally voice called her name, making her spin on the spot and come face to face with a rather flustered Paul.

“Hi,” she announced, “it’s good to see you. How are you?”

She looked him over only to notice that firstly he was clean, and secondly he was dressed like ‘Stranger Things’ had thrown up all over him. She was all about unique and individual styles, and she could tell Paul had his own; however, his style seemed to be mimicking that of Eddie, the High School hold back, from the latest season of Stranger Things. Did he not realise you had to make an effort when you went on a first date? First impressions and all. Maybe she should recommend the Ladyblog?

“Yeah, good,” he huffed in response. He pushed his hands down into his pockets and looked Marinette over. She couldn’t help the slight shiver that ran down her spine as he eyed her up like an endangered species at the zoo. If only he knew she was Ladybug and could kick his ass if he didn’t divert his attention elsewhere.

They stood in silence, clouds of hot air passing as they breathed out into the void between them. She waited, and waited, and waited… yet they still stood there in silence. Was he going to check in with her or just stand and stare? She began to count in her head, deciding that when she reached 10 she was just going to head inside. It was too cold, and right now she was too hungry.

1…

2…

3…

She watched him rock on his feet, his eyes darting around the area, quick glances into the distance, restaurant, and then back to her.

6…

7…

8…

How had he not even asked her how she was? Wasn’t the guy meant to comment on her outfit at the beginning of a date? Or maybe her hair and her makeup? But surely he was meant to say something flattering — or just something at all!

10…

Time was up, and she felt positively bewildered.

“Shall we go in?” Marinette attempted to smile her most gentle and sweetest smile, but from the twitch in her lips she could feel it was more of a cringe. Couldn’t she just call it quits now? Turn around and go home. She didn’t need to do this. She could just fake it on the blog, no one had to know… but she would. Her insides screamed at the idea of having to continue with this farce.

“Yeah.”

Wow, she thought, a man of many words.

She made her way behind Paul towards the entrance of the restaurant and watched as he opened the door… and proceeded through it in front of her. She stood in shock as the door closed in her face; Paul continued to walk towards the host stand.

What the hell was that?

Wasn’t your date meant to hold the door open for you? Not that she’d explicitly asked him out on a date, but a man and a woman out together to get something to eat and drink wasn’t exactly a daily occurrence. Had she found the one guy in Paris who didn’t know how to act on a date? The one guy who wasn’t wrapped up in love while living in the romance capital of the world?

Her phone buzzed against the compact in her bag, drawing her attention to her phone. She pulled it out and outwardly sighed as she read the name.

Adrien.

She quickly tapped on the message to see what he wanted. Perhaps he wasn’t going to come and see the epic failure of a dating machine she was. Instead, he could keep the idea that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a successful dater and that she was just picky about who she allowed on a second date with her.

Marinette looked up from her phone, keeping it securely in her hand as she scanned through the windows at the people seated inside. She looked past a couple eating by the window, jealousy creeping up inside her, then to the parents with the screaming children in the centre. She continued to look and scour the scene until she found…

There he was, Adrien Agreste in his true Adrien Adrieness. He looked gorgeous, blond hair shining and teeth glittering as he gave her a small wave and pointed down towards his phone. It was only at that moment she noticed he’d sent her another message.

She looked up at him once more only to catch one of those hot guy winks which made her want to collapse to the floor in a puddle of goo. However, she pulled herself together and made her way to the door, opening it for herself, suddenly feeling a lot warmer.

Paul was still talking to the host as she made her way towards him. He didn’t even seem to realise she wasn’t there.

“A table towards the back, please, as we don’t want to be interrupted.”

No, she wanted to scream. She looked over towards Adrien, wanting nothing more than to be near him. How she wished she was about to make her way over to him. Maybe greeting him with a quick kiss on the cheek as he pulled out her chair and told her how beautiful she looked. He would have held the door open for her. He would want to know how she was.

But now, she was now walking over towards the back of the room, away from Adrien and her sanity. What the hell had she been thinking doing this?

They made it to a table where Paul progressed to pulling out a chair. This was it; this was the moment Paul was going to woo her and make her not completely regret this. She moved to the side, unbuttoned her coat, and prepared to sit down, only for Paul to take the chair for himself. If she wasn’t in public, she would have facepalmed.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, as Marinette made her way over to the opposite side of the table. “I like to be near the restrooms — just in case.”

In case of what? The sudden notion that Paul had some underlying bowel issue struck her like a baseball to the head. Goodness, she thought, can this night just be over already?

They sat in silence, both looking at the menu, Marinette’s leg bouncing up and down in aggravation. How long would she have to stay to make this classify as a date? 15 minutes? 30? An hour? Her phone was burning from where it sat — screen down — on the table beside her. How rude would it look if she sat messaging Adrien? Maybe they could start a game of pool or something?

“Do you like Strange Things?” Paul’s voice assaulted her ears and caused her to look from the menu, pulling her from her thoughts of Adrien. Paul was glaring hopefully at her as though her answer was his meaning of life. Well, she was about to let him down big time.

“I - um - I’m not actually into horror or sci-fi. I’m more of a chick flick and teen drama fan.”

“Soooooo… You don’t like Stranger Things?”

“No, I don’t.” She shook her head to emphasise her answer. Did he see this as a deal breaker or something?

“Oh!”

He looked as though she’d just told him she’d run over his cat! His hurt expression was one she couldn’t quite understand. Did the show really mean that much to him? They continued looking at the menu when the sudden scrapping of chair legs against the floor had her looking back over at her date and clenching her teeth together from the noise.

“Excuse me,” he spoke, voice emotionless as he stood and turned in the direction of the restrooms that he craved so much.

A buzz sounded next to her on the table, an indication of another message. Marinette looked towards where Adrien was sitting; he had a drink in his hand and seemed to be mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Curiosity got the better of her and she flipped it over to see who was trying to contact her, praying it wasn’t another offer from ‘Uber Eats’ but a lifeline to save her.

1 new message

Adrien

She opened the message and felt the corners of her lips twitch; her hand coming to her mouth to suppress her laughter.

Tucking her bottom lip under her top teeth she messaged Adrien back, glad to finally have some sort of communication with someone — even if he wasn’t her date.

Supporting her chin with her fist, elbow on the table, she looked around the venue while a twisted feeling stirred in her gut. Waiting for a reply was agonising. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so dependent on her phone.

Finally, it buzzed against the table once more.

The message was simple, just a friend wanting to share their interests with another friend, but she couldn’t help the stutter in her breath at the thought of Adrien wanting to spend time with her — alone. She wished now she hadn’t given into Alya’s peer pressure and watched it alongside her and Nino. Cuddling up to Adrien sounded a lot more fun than the sofa cushion. Cuddling up? Once again, her mind was running away from her. Next thing she knew, she’d be thinking about hamsters and three kids…

Marinette’s phone pinged again, saving her from going down the Adrien Agreste slippery slope. Another message.

That was it! Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been signed, sealed, and delivered. Adrien Agreste was complimenting her, and her face had taken on a paint swatch sample sheet as it fluctuated from pink to red, ending on a rather impressive violet. She quickly glanced down at her outfit. Black skinny jeans, a green off the shoulder long sleeved top, and her 3 inch heeled winter boots. Nothing too extreme, and quite basic really.

She held her phone between her hands, tapping her thumbs against the side as she tried to think of what to reply. A measly thank you didn’t seem good enough. Should she compliment him too? Although she’d only seen a portion of his top, as the rest hidden under the table. Her lips pursed, her eyes trailing around the edge of the table as her brain tried to come back from the moon and help her out. She was acting like a 14-year-old again, when would this ever end?

She sent the message before she could chicken out and send something ridiculous like ‘you should see what’s underneath’ or, maybe even ‘would you like a close up?’

See, she was growing up. She could do this. She didn’t need to become a mess every time she so much as caught a glimpse of him. She was a strong, confident woman — not confident enough to say it to his face though.

He looked over towards her; her eyes had already found and settled on him. It felt like time was frozen, like there was nothing else she could imagine doing, or anywhere else she’d rather be. If only he was in the seat across from her.

She watched as he picked up his phone and typed a message; a thrill taking over as her phone pinged with another new message. He set his phone down and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table, his hands supporting under his chin. Waiting.

The corner of her lips twitched. Oh, how she’d love to get up right now and run for the hills, but she promised Alya (and all of her readers) that she’d see this through, and for once in her life she’d like to actually complete a date. She looked at him and playfully rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the menu. Everything sounded awful and she wasn’t sure how she was going to eat something that looked and sounded more like dog food.

“Are you trying to burn holes in the menu?” A humorous voice was met with a screech of a chair being pulled across the hard wooden floor. Her head shot up and looked at the occupant.

“Adrien,” she hissed, looking around for any sign of Paul. “What are you doing?”

How could he just come over like this? She was having enough issues with him being in the same vicinity as her, then to have him sitting opposite in her date's seat… well… It was nothing short of madness.

“Paul’s gone,” Adrien said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at her.

“What?” she exclaimed.

Adrien pointed over his shoulder. “He just walked out the door on his phone. It seems you not liking Stranger Things was a deal breaker.” His voice radiated the same sparkle of mischief that was in his eyes. It seemed Adrien was enjoying this.

“The tee should have given it away really.”

“And the mullet,” Adrien added.

“That wasn’t a mullet; it was more a perm,” she sighed and dropped at least a dress size from the action. If she couldn’t get Pringles Paul to stay and date her, what luck would she get with someone in Adrien’s league?

She dropped her head onto the table and let out a rather unladylike groan as she bashed it another couple of times shaking the glasses and sending the cutlery running for their lives.

“Marinette?” Adrien said, a slight chuckle in his voice. She repeated her action, but then a warmth on her hand froze her movements and caused her to look up and into Adrien’s eyes.

“I’m a disaster,” she whispered. “A complete disaster.”

She watched him shake his head. He obviously didn’t agree. “You’re not at all, Marinette. You just chose the wrong guy to date.” He stood up abruptly and almost sent the chair to the floor in his haste. “Come on.”

He reached into his back pocket, grabbed a couple of bills, and threw them on the table. The sudden movement of Adrien standing almost caused Marinette to topple off her chair. She followed Adrien’s lead, standing and grabbing her coat and bag.

“Where are we going?”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, guiding them both toward the door.

“I’m salvaging your evening by taking you somewhere decent to eat.”

Before Marinette could say anything else, they were out on the street, and Adrien was dragging her along behind him.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think you can compare the two; they’re totally different.”

“What?! They’re exactly the same! It’s just in a differently shaped bottle.”

“You really don’t have a clue.”

“Adrien, I’ve got them both, and they smell exactly the same.”

“Why do you have men’s cologne?”

“I was curious,” Marinette shrugged, not wanting to tell Adrien that the reason she had many bottles of Adrien the Fragrance was to spray on her pillow and pretend he was hugging her. No chance.

Adrien eyed her curiously, and to be honest she deserved it. She didn’t know how they had got to this conversation, but she needed to divert it asap. She was all set to change to another topic of conversation when suddenly Adrien shoved his wrist under her nose.

“Here,” he said, “smell me.”

Marinette reeled back in shock. “What?”

“Sniff me. I’m sure you’ll be able to tell the difference between the new and the old one. This one is a little more manly.”

Manly? She thought. If there was one thing Adrien didn’t need to be, that was more manly. She was barely containing herself sitting opposite him and if she had to sniff him she was quite certain she would collapse off the side of her chair. She looked into his eyes, and there it was again, Adrien Agreste and his finely tuned eyebrows, begging for her to fall at his beck and call.

Marinette bent forward and took a quick sniff before reverting herself back to an upright, and almost stable, position. The votes were in… it definitely did not smell the same. It was denser, older, and pure Adrien gloriousness. He had never smelled so good, and she would definitely be the one to know; she’d sniffed him enough. Trying to move the smell of Adrien from her nostrils she let out a well vented sigh, collapsing a little lower into her chair.

“It’s okay, Marinette.”

She looked up to her dinner companion and studied his face; Adrien’s understanding stare, full of compassion.

“Listen, I think we both knew that wasn’t going to work. Maybe you need to not make such rash decisions next time. Date someone who you know a little more. Maybe someone from the boxercise class.”

Nodding her head in agreement, she cursed herself for approaching Paul last night, Adrien was right she needed to know the person not just asking anyone out. Not that he even knew he’d been asked on a date.

“Thank you for being here.”

“You're welcome. And, let’s be honest, he only knew you as ‘flexible girl’ and you called him ‘Pringles Paul’, it wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven, now was it? Did he even bother to ask you your name?”

Groaning, she buried her head in their hands. He was right. They hadn’t exactly set off on the world's greatest love story. Maybe she should have cancelled it in the first place? Saved them both from wasting time.

“Can we just remember you told me to ditch him, that wasn’t very nice.”

“I’d already seen him walk out the door.”

“Oh.”

A chime sounded from her bag resting against her hip. A quick movement had it on the table and available for all to see.

Paul.

Her mysterious disappearing date had contacted her. A sudden thought made her gasp, what if he'd actually come back into the restaurant searching for her? And she’d just gotten up and left without a word.

“What does it say?” Adrien asked.

“He has a girlfriend!”

Adrien cringed under her stare. “Why was he on a date with you if he has a girlfriend?”

“Because I never actually asked him on a date. I asked him to go for a drink so I could get to know people at the gym better.” A vibration sounded in her throat, her hands running down her face. “I can’t even ask a guy out properly.”

Wanting to finally put an end to her own misery she quickly changed the subject.

“So,” she coughed, wanting to put an end to her almost-date and start this new one. Wait? Was this a date? She felt her palms sweat with the idea of being on a date with Adrien. Speaking quickly with a slight squeak. “Enough of my failures in love,” she coughed. “How about you?”

If she ever had a deep desire to use the rabbit Miraculous, now would most certainly be one of those times. In no shape or form did she think she could sit around and listen to Adrien gush about another girl. This night was just getting worse by the minute.

She watched as he looked away from her — bad sign — and shrugged.

“I’m not really actively looking. But there’s a couple of girls who —” He was glowing as he shook his head in the most adorable way, his eyes firmly placed on the ground. “There was this girl, I think I told you about her back in collège. Well…” He shrugged again, but the smile on his face told her everything she needed to know. This was definitely not a date. A realisation that stabbed her hard in the chest. She didn’t know what she had expected. A declaration that he was in love with her?

She’d misread the signs once again; Adrien was just being his wonderful kind self.

“I… yeah, it’s slow… and complicated,” he finished.

Nodding in response, Marinette grabbed a fork to play with and shifted the conversation to try and remove the tingling from her nose and the tightness in her chest.

“Then there’s –”

Marinette interrupted before she had to listen to him swoon about another girl. A date and ditch, plus Adrien gushing about another girl would not exactly be a fun filled evening. “So, how have you been? It’s been a while.”

She watched his eyebrows soften, a look of remorse taking over his brilliant green eyes as he reached behind his neck and rubbed.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” he began. “Things just seemed to spiral out of control. Then before I knew it months had passed, and I didn’t know what to say to anyone anymore. I would sit and look through all your social media accounts and see that you were all doing great, moving on in your lives without me. You didn’t need my whining to drag you all down — there’s only so much depressing news you can hear about Gabriel Agreste.”

Marinette let out a sigh, dropping her eyes to the table. “I suppose we’re all to blame really. Friendship isn’t a one way street, and we are all just as guilty for not contacting you more often.”

Adrien’s smile was there, but Marinette knew it was the professional performing one, one she hadn’t seen in years – since the day of his cover shoots.

“We’re here now though, right? Even though I haven’t seen you in about seven months. You’re looking great, Marinette.”

He stretched his hand out, placing it palm down on the table, and Marinette wasn’t sure if it was a signal for her to place her own on top or if he was just stretching.

She looked down at his perfectly manicured hand, his long, slender fingers accessorised by his sovereign ring, the one he’d always worn on his right hand. His hand looked so inviting, and she couldn’t help but want to feel if his skin was as smooth as it looked.

Taking the decision to move forward, Marinette was set on placing hers on top of his. She moved closer and closer, her hand mere centimetres away. She was going to do it. She was going to hold Adrien’s hand, and then maybe this could turn into a date.

“I have a red pepper butternut squash soup, and a calamari.” A young, attractive female approached with their order and Marinette almost made a dramatic gasping scene as she placed the face to where she’d seen it before. At the gym.

The girl was one from the group. One who spent more time ogling Adrien than working out. And before her internal angel and devil could begin to argue she, herself, did not ogle Adrien, she was just looking out for him. Making sure he used the equipment safely — that was all.

The waitresses eyes were placed firmly on Adrien as she dropped the bowl in front of Marinette. A swoosh of liquid battled to break free over the top and cause a tsunami on the table. Marinette was terrified ‘for’ her clothing; the orange tinted soup seemingly enthusiastic about giving them a new tie-dye effect.

Adrien’s plate, however, was set down with incredible accuracy, and Marinette thought the waitress was about to pull up a chair and begin to spoon feed him. Instead, she straightened herself up and stood staring at him — a smile on her face like a kid in a candy store. Could she be any more obvious?

Despite her attention being solely on Adrien, Marinette couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable by the hovering. She was literally just standing and staring but, worst of all, Adrien was so busy preparing his calamari that he failed to notice how much she was gawking at him.

Could someone actually be this oblivious?

A metaphorical slap across her face had her mouth dropping and eyes widening.

This is exactly what you do! The devil seated comfortably on her shoulder spoke up.

Adrien stretched forward for the salt and pepper, using both on his food before picking up the lemon slice and squeezing it in a way Gordon Ramsey would be proud of. Having a sneaky glance, Marinette looked in his direction. It was mesmerising; she didn’t realise squirting lemons could do this to her. All of a sudden she realised what she was doing and turned her attention back to the brunette who had now manoeuvred her lips into a rather impressive duck pout.

Everything was starting to feel wrong tonight, as though she was finally having a lifelong epiphany. She wasn’t 14 anymore, there was no excuse. She was 19, she needed to start looking at her life and her actions, and taking accountability for what she was doing.

“Is there anything else?” Marinette said, hoping the hint to leave would hit loud and clear.

“I just want to check M. Agreste is happy with his calamari. It’s all part of the service.”

To try and get in his pants, Marinette thought, as Adrien looked at the waitress and flashed her an award winning smile.

Her eyes widened as she realised what had just run through her head. She had no right to be jealous. She wasn’t on a date with Adrien… he had another girl!

It didn't matter that this was the most romantic restaurant she’d ever been to with wonderful smelling food that cost more than every item of clothing she was wearing.

It didn’t matter that Adrien had escorted her in with a hand on her lower back, pulled her chair out, and placed her napkin in her lap.

It didn’t matter that their conversation was flowing greater than Niagra Falls; the truth of the matter was they were not on a date. Marinette wasn’t Adrien’s and, unfortunately, he wasn’t hers, either.

Adrien looked down, placing another piece of calamari into his mouth.

As Adrien settled back from his calamari coma, he looked from Marinette to the waitress before turning his attention back to Marinette.

“Is there something wrong with your soup?” He stabbed a piece of calamari before pointing it in Marinette’s direction and nodding down at the untouched liquid.

“No,” Marinette said, dramatically. She shook her head to the point it almost fell off before picking up her spoon and sending it in like an Olympic diver. “It’s fine — great in fact.” She stumbled over her words, wanting to make sure the waitress didn’t think she was complaining because she wasn’t. The soup was actually fine.

“That’s all then, thank you.” Adrien’s words were dismissive as he smiled at the waitress and then turned back to his food — placing the ring of squid into his mouth.

With a huff, the waitress turned and left, obviously off to find her next victim. If Marinette had been on a date with Adrien, she would be making sure now not to leave her a tip. Or maybe the simple one of ‘leave my Prince alone’.

“You know, if it’s cold, you should send it back.” Adrien pushed his food around on his plate before stabbing his next victim and drowning it in the marinara sauce.

“It’s fine,” Marinette replied, taking her spoon to the bowl once more. To be honest, it really wasn’t. She couldn’t call it anything more than lukewarm, nothing like the scalding temperature she’d usually eat soup at.

Adrien placed his fork down and crossed his arms, nodding to the bowl in front of her. “Send it back.”

His voice was strong, nothing like the young, naive boy she went to lycée with.

“It’s fine,” she responded once more, enthusiastically taking a spoonful and tilting it into her mouth to prove her point. It took everything in her not to wince. The quickly cooling liquid teasing her tongue, with a slight hint of what could be, but what it sadly was not.

“Marinette, your face is making it clear you don’t like it. You need to stop worrying about what they think. If it’s not right, send it back.”

She sighed and looked down at the bowl, her hand lazily moving the spoon in slow and steady circles. The movement of the soup sent her dizzy.

“Marinette?”

Adrien’s warm hand had once again found its way to hers. He looked to the side, and Marinette knew straight away what he was trying to do.

“Adrien, don’t please! It’s fine, look…” She pulled her hand away from him, took her spoon once more, and placed a spoonful into her mouth; her wince increasing as the soup had grown progressively colder. There was no way she could eat this. It was a couple of seconds away from turning into Gazpacho.

Looking over towards her friend, Marinette couldn’t help but cringe. Adrien’s gaze was intense, and suddenly she felt like she was in the middle of an X Factor audition. His eyebrows pulled together as he studied her, a hand absentmindedly coming to her face hoping she didn’t have soup dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

“What?” She placed the spoon down and crossed her arms over her chest, Adrien continuing to eat his calamari.

He shook his head and placed his fork down, mirroring her position and finishing what was in his mouth. Ever the gentleman, she thought, glad that he hadn’t progressed to spraying her with half-chewed calamari.

“Do you want some of mine? Though, I’m not sure if it’s shellfish or not?”

Marinette shook her head. “No thank you, I swear I’m fine.”

“You’re scared to send it back,” he stated as though he’d just told her that her eyes were blue.

She shook her head in complete defiance. “No, I’m not. It’s fine; there’s no big deal fussing over cold soup.”

“Except for when it’s not meant to be cold, Marinette. Send. It. Back.”

She sighed and picked up her spoon, stirring around the bowl again and picking out some of the hidden red peppers. “No!” She sounded like a 5-year-old, and she knew that. “I just don’t see why I should make a big deal about it.” She spooned up another serving and placed it in her mouth, once again wincing as the cold substance hit her taste buds.

“Excuse me?” Adrien raised a hand and performed a little wave towards their waitress. She bounded over with a strut most models at fashion week would be jealous of. She couldn’t be any more obvious with her body language; she saw Adrien, and she went for it.

“Yes, M. Agreste.”

Marinette wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but her voice was breathy in a way that made her want to puke.

“My date's soup is cold. Can we get another please?”

Wait? What?!? She almost toppled off her chair. Did he just say ‘his date’? When did this become a date? Was she on a date with Adrien Agreste? When had it gotten so hot here?

She was seconds away from turning into a volcano when the waitress reached forward and took the bowl from her placemat, ‘accidently’ sending the spoon out of the bowl and onto Marinette’s lap. Maybe it was a good thing the soup was cold.

“Oh!” The waitress exclaimed, making it blatantly obvious she wasn’t a good actress. “I’m so sorry.” Her husky voice cut through Marinette, the fake apology only causing her to dislike the woman more and to think she was beginning to feel bad for calling them the plastics.

Grabbing a napkin, Marinette began to wipe the orange soup stains from her trousers, dipping it into the water and using the dampness as a makeshift cleaning cloth.

“I’m going to speak to the manager.” The movement of Adrien pushing his chair away from the table rattled the glasses, almost sending them over and creating even more of a mess than they were already in.

“No, you’re not,” Marinette sighed, “sit down, Adrien.”

“She did that on purpose though. I thought if I said we were on a date, she’d stop staring at me and get you new soup at the same time; I didn’t expect her to go all Annie Wilkes on you.”

“Who?” Marinette looked up from aggressively rubbing her jeans, her eyebrows knitting together in a tight frown.

“Annie Wilkes.” He sat back down opposite her, waiting for her response, only for her lips to shift into a thoughtful pout.

“Yeah, I heard that. I still don’t know who that is.”

He gasped, placed a hand over his face, rubbed his hair and neck, then growled. She was wondering if she’d just unknowingly offended a member of his family.

“Oh come on Marinette, don’t tell me you’ve never watched Misery?”

If they were in an old western, Marinette was certain that a tumbleweed would have just had a lovely stroll past them.

“You know what?” Obviously her face was the only answer he needed, so he grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and began to type. In a matter of seconds, her phone pinged once more with a new message.

Grabbing it from where it still lay face down on the table, Marinette lifted it and noticed that the message just happened to be from her dinner companion.

You have been invited to join the note ‘Marinette’s List’ by Adrien Agreste.

She looked up at him only to notice his smirk being replaced by another piece of calamari.

That’s it, she thought, you hide behind that octopus, you coward.

Opening the message and then the note, she detected it was the beginning of a checklist:

1. Be more assertive and stop worrying about what other people think about you.

2. Go on dates with people who know your name.

3. Watch Misery with Adrien Agreste.

“Seriously?” she asked, looking from her phone to her friend's face.

“It’s down in writing now; you can’t go back on it.” He smiled again before inserting another piece of calamari into his mouth.

“I never agreed; something here has to be illegal.”

He let out a snort, which suddenly became a laugh, which progressed rather quickly into a choke. Oh no! oh no! OH NO! Standing from the table, she used the two seconds it took her to get to the other side to run through her memory for some first aid skills.

As she reached him, it became clear. Hit him hard with the palm of her hand in between his shoulder blades. How many times was she meant to do this? Three? Four? She hit him once, then continued to strike him hard repeatedly, the calamari finally flying from his mouth and back onto the plate. Adrien’s deep, laboured breaths were the best sound she’d ever heard — even if he sounded like a cat with a furball.

A round of applause broke out around them, Marinette tripping as she attempted to scurry back to her seat and out of the limelight. Unfortunately, her legs tangled around themselves, and she collapsed down to the floor in a rather dramatic and unflattering heap.

A panicked voice sounded above from where she was sprawled out on the ground. “Are you all okay over here? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Marinette placed her hands on the seat of her chair and pushed herself to stand, coasting herself back down and into her seat.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said, moving her hair from where it had fallen loose and stuck to her face. “I’m used to it.”

“Not for you,” the voice said again, “him! M. Agreste.”

She looked up to see, who she guessed was the manager, fawning over Adrien — and was he rubbing his back? And what was wrong with his hair?

“Oh,” Marinette said, brushing herself off.

“I’m good,” Adrien replied, “my date saved me.” His voice was hoarse, and he spoke through rather unattractive, chest rattling coughs. “I'm very lucky.”

Even through his near-death experience, Adrien still managed to drop her a little wink before beginning his next set of rattling barks. Her cheeks flamed red hot and caused her to look away.

“We’d like to have the bill —”

“One bowl of hot red pepper butternut squash soup.” The waitress announced, moving forward and hovering over the table. She dropped the bowl down rather aggressively, a tidal wave of the sweet vegetable soup flowing over the edge and onto Marinette’s top. As a squeal left her mouth, Marinette launched herself out of the chair, slamming her hand on the spoon and sending it flying onto the manager's rather rat-like toupée. The man pulled it from his head and to the ground with a yelp progressing to jumping on it like it was on fire. Great, now Remy had come to join the drama.

Cringing, Marinette looked between the manager and Adrien before turning her attention to a rather smug-looking waitress. Oh, how she wished the soup had painted her instead! She’d look great as a Picasso portrait. She could feel her cheeks begin to heat up as she seated herself back down into her chair. This was beyond mortifying.

Covering her eyes, she looked down at her green stained top, praying that it would wash out when she arrived home as it was one of her favourites. Her mind was running fast, weighing the pros and cons of using vanish on her top or whether a bio-wash would be better when Adrien’s chair scraped away from the floor and he stood up.

She wasn’t sure if she could look at him. This wasn’t the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done in front of him, but it was one of the most embarrassing she’d pulled off in such a public place.

“I’m sure you’ll find this sufficient.” Adrien said wryly, a selection of euro notes falling onto the table.

“Monsieur Agreste, I apologise —”

“No,” Adrien stated, his voice stern but without any anger. “I feel your staff need to be better managed, monsieur. I will be sending the dry cleaning bill for my date's top and any other items that have been damaged. The service here tonight has not been acceptable.”

He walked around towards Marinette, taking her arm gently and pulling her to stand, her legs wobbling slightly as she attempted to stabilise herself.

“Please, M. Agreste — here. This meal is on us.” The manager reached over the table and grabbed the cash, all but throwing it at Adrien—pushing it into his hands. “And please, we invite you and your lady back for a meal at the chef’s table.”

Marinette didn’t know what to do. She felt so alien standing watching this conversation, Adrien puffing out his chest and delivering hit after hit. She marvelled at his display of righteousness, not caring about upsetting the others’ feelings as he told them exactly what he thought. His confidence was alluring. There was no anger or bite in his words, just a protective tone once again.

“Goodnight, Monsieur.”

She wasn’t certain when or how it had happened, but her coat was now placed over her shoulders and her arms were buried deep into their sleeves. Adrien bent down and picked up her small, cross-body bag, placing it delicately on her shoulder before moving them towards the doorway.

“My deepest apologies, mademoiselle,” the manager said, his body leaning into a bow as they walked away and towards the exit.

The doorman prised open the heavy wooden door, allowing them both to exit onto the street and into the cool Parisian night air. Marinette wrapped her arms around herself, allowing a little cloud of steam to leave her mouth.

“Here.”

It was only at that moment Marinette realised Adrien had been wearing something specific under his thick winter jacket, something he was removing and moving towards her. A light blue scarf wrapped around her neck with a delicate brush of his warm fingers as he made sure her bare, chilled skin was covered by the soft fabric she had carefully knitted all those years ago.

He stepped in front of her, his height towering above her; yet, she didn’t feel intimidated or frightened. Instead, she felt safe and protected. His body was the perfect size to fit into; her head would settle under his chin, and all she needed to do was take one step forward. One step and she would be engulfed by the new manly scent of Adrien the Fragrance mixed with Adrien himself.

“The blue’s the same colour as your eyes.”

His whispered voice sent a shiver to her core. The night's cold air was nothing compared to Adrien’s effect, right through to her bones. His hands were still on the edges of the woven material, his eyes firmly locked on hers as the hot air between them clashed before disappearing.

“It is,” she whispered in return. Her heart yearned for him to move in and take her lips, to express a feeling similar to her own. He licked his lower lip; the glistening moisture which remained made them all the more desirable; a heartbreaking invitation to only look but never touch.

Time seemed to freeze as they stood staring at each other, the atmosphere between them changing and taking her breath away. He was looking at her in a way she had only ever dreamed about, a dream which always ended up making her sorely disappointed in her reality.

She couldn’t be imagining it, could she? Life wasn’t cruel enough to make her believe her dream was coming true.

A sudden blaring of a siren broke the intense atmosphere, causing them both to blink and break the connection.

What the hell was that?

Adrien coughed and continued adjusting the scarf around her neck. He twisted it tightly, before pulling his hands away, snuggly placing them in his pockets. He smiled down at his well formed knot.

“Let’s get you home before you freeze.” But she felt anything but cold. The look he’d given her warmed her inside out, and she wanted it again. He was being his usual gentleman, and for the first time ever, she hated that Adrien Agreste was so respectable.

“This is me.”

Ten minutes later, they found themselves outside her apartment. She stretched up to undo the scarf only for Adrien’s warm hand to stop her.

“Keep it. That way, you have to see me again.” His smile was addictive, her own following but lacking the brightness of his.

“Is that right?” Marinette asked, one eyebrow raised as her hands came to her hips.

He laughed. “I need a boxing partner, remember? You can’t just ditch me.”

She tried to keep her smile, burying the feeling that he wasn’t actually asking her out. She had to remember this wasn’t a date. They were two old friends catching up, the attractive blond being good company after her original date had bolted.

“Of course, yes, sure… I’d never leave you alone.” She lifted a hand and softly punched him in the shoulder, his reaction playful as he stepped back and faked pain.

“Ouch! Maybe I need someone with a softer hit. I’m still dealing with your last strike.”

She covered her face in mortification. “I am so, so sorry about that! I really didn’t mean to.”

He laughed once more, and the sound of a thousand angels ringing tiny bells played in her head. How could he still make her feel this way?

“Don’t worry about it. No harm done.” He pulled her hands from where they’d covered her face and lowered them to her sides, cupping her hands in his own. “Listen, you need to get inside before you freeze to death.”

He rubbed his thumbs over her frozen digits, the effect sending waves up her arm and towards her heart. It was only then she realised how cold she’d actually become.

“Text me when you’re home?” she asked, Adrien nodding in response.

“Of course,” he whispered, bending forward and placing a kiss on her cheek. The action had taken her by surprise and before she could decide what to do next, he’d moved away; her cheek feeling lost and bare without the addition of his lips. “Goodnight Marinette, I had a lot of fun.”

“Goodnight Adrien.”

He stood and waited for her to fumble with her keys and open the main door into the building. As she stepped over the threshold she gave him a quick smile and wave over her shoulder closing the door behind her. She leaned back against it, a loud gust of air escaping her lips, eyes closed, her body attempting to reconfigure itself back to normality.

Using her foot, she pushed away from the door and dashed upstairs as quickly as her legs would take her. After a couple of stumbles, and a few steps where she was scrambling on her hands and knees, she made it to her floor, slamming open the door and causing Alya to scream, poor Nino being head butted in response.

The scary music playing from the television echoed in the background as Alya muttered words of apology to her boyfriend. Still, Marinette was set on one thing and one thing only. Pulling open the curtains, she looked down to the corner of the street just in time to see Adrien turn and look back.

Chapter Text

Marinette was having the best day ever! She’d been on a real date with Adrien Agreste. He’d brought her flowers, taken her for a wonderful walk along the Seine, and then they were cosied up on her bed. Her legs were tangled with his as they watched Stranger Things; Adrien offering himself as a human shield every time she got too scared to look at the screen.

Threading his fingers into her hair, he couldn’t help the slight teasing accompanying the gentle, reassuring kisses placed upon the top of her head before he moved downwards — cheek, nose… softly on the corner of her lips.

Marinette sighed in hopeless bliss at Adrien’s affections and ministrations, dreaming of the attentive ways he would make her feel if he was her boyfriend.

Then suddenly she didn’t need to dream anymore. He kissed her. He properly kissed her. He kissed her like she’d seen a thousand times in Hallmark movies. Every movement was an unwritten declaration of love and understanding. Of togetherness.

The position grew uncomfortable and they moved. Adrien poised himself over her as he kissed her time and time again; the bed bouncing with the change in pressure of him against her. Then the bed movement increased, almost sending her flying off the bed. But what’s more, was he smacking her ass? He didn’t know Buttercup could be so bold!

“Marinette,” he said, his lips parting from hers to whisper her name.

She looped an arm around his neck, pulling his now deliciously topless body against hers. A chill suddenly hit her stomach, causing her to quickly look down. Was she wearing her gym gear?

“Marinette,” he said again, this time with a little more volume.

She cursed him for breaking their kiss again, moving her hands into his soft halo of hair to pull him closer. Her lips fought vigorously against his, wanting him to maul her and make her feel delectable.

It was getting warm.

Too warm.

She opened her eyes from the intensity of the kiss and realised they were in the sauna at the gym. She never knew she had it in her. This time it was Adrien who pulled her back to him, their heated make-out suddenly feeling a little drier than a couple of minutes ago. It must have been the heat from the sauna.

“Marinette!” That time when she heard her name, it was followed by a hearty slap to her rear and her body bucking out of her bed and landing in a heap on the floor.

She groaned, placing a hand to her head as she looked up into her best friend's eyes; the amused smirk started bubbling the annoyance inside her, something that emitted in the form of a growl.

“Woah! Chill, Marinette, it's just me.”

“Well, just me, get out of my room!” Marinette twisted and turned to face her bed, pulling herself to stand and taking a moment to try and regain some sort of composure in her legs.

She hated waking up at the best of times, but to be woken up while in a lust-filled Adrien dream, well… Alya should just be lucky she had only growled at her and not thrown her out the window.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Alya asked her friend, holding her hands up in surrender. It was a good move and a possible fake out; Marinette knew a quick duck and sweep of the leg that could take her out if the need arose. “Or should I say who?” And there it was. “Would it have anything to do with Adrien Agreste?”

Marinette stormed over to her nightstand, grabbed the hoodie lying on top, and flung it over her head. Her voice slightly muffled as she spoke. “No! You!”

Alya cackled in that witch-like way that grated on her nerves; Marinette stormed past her and out of the room. If she was going to deal with Alya in this mood, she needed caffeine.

She walked to the kitchen, taking the time to wipe the sleep from her eyes and straighten up her hoodie, worried she would stumble in on an uncomfortable Nino, once again. The dude flustered when Alya had her legs out, let alone someone who wasn’t his girlfriend.

Seeing the coast was clear, she headed to the coffee machine and switched it on.

“I spoke to Nino this morning. Nino, whoooooo just so happened to speak to Adrien last night?”

Marinette closed her eyes and placed her hands on top of their granite worktop. “I thought I told you not to sing his name like that?”

“Oh, come on, Marinette, you came back as lovesick as a Disney Princess. Seriously, I thought birds and squirrels were going to come chasing after you as you danced your way to bed.”

A small voice came to join the conversation. “Or maybe, a ladybug, mouse, tiger, ox, goat, turtle—”

“Fine!” Marinette huffed, grabbing a spoon out of the top drawer, and slamming it closed with one hip. “I was happy.” She pointed her spoon at Tikki. “And you, little madam, stay out of it.”

Tikki giggled and headed to the biscuit tin before disappearing inside. With a sigh, Marinette made it to the small note board in the kitchen and added ‘cookies’ to the list, looking back over towards where her little confidant had just escaped too.

“It sounds like you weren’t the only one.” Alya took the spoon from Marinette’s hand and made her way back to the coffee maker, taking two mugs and pouring the coffee.

“What does that mean?” Marinette asked, only to be answered by the rise and fall of Alya’s shoulders.

“Nino wouldn’t tell me too much.”

As they finished up their drinks, Marinette turned back to the fridge to replace the milk only to stop and smile. Seated interrupted on a shelf sat a tupperware box of butternut squash and red pepper soup. It had been in there for weeks, desperately needing to be discarded; however, right at this moment she’d never seen a greater sight.

“So what was so important that you woke me up?” Marinette closed the fridge and made her way back to Alya, wanting to know what had caused her ‘favourite’ roommate to wake her up so ridiculously early. Anyone with the slightest common sense knew you didn’t wake Marinette up on her day off before noon.

“Drink first; my incredible news second.”

“Oh my goodness! You’re pregnant!” Marinette screeched.

Alya placed her hands over her eyes, her eyebrows frowning at her friend's ridiculously loud outburst. “Hell, no! It’s about the Blog.”

Of course it is!

Marinette handed a mug over to Alya before taking her own and leading them out into the sitting area of their apartment. It consisted of two sofas, a tv, and a dining table with one leg shorter than the others and four mismatched chairs — the current issue of ‘Style Queen’ balancing out the table's uneven legs.

Alya’s laptop sat on the sofa, her backup for her desktop in her room. Marinette was quite sure Apple’s stocks were only so high because of her technology addicted roommate. Settling down and placing their drinks on the floor, Alya pulled up her latest email from Nadja Chamack.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: A Super Guide to Super Dating

“A super guide to super dating?” Marinette said a hint of amusement in her voice. She reached down to grab her mug and placed it to her lips. Alya pursed her lips as she studied her friend's face.

“What?” Marinette questioned. Her nervous laugh circulated around the room as she took another sip of her drink in an attempt to get Alya to stop looking at her.

“Do you not like it?” Alya questioned, only for Marinette to shrug nonchalantly in response.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just meant to be something small. Something personal.”

“Come on, Marinette. This is a great opportunity to get your message out to a bigger audience.”

Marinette bit into her lower lip. Whilst what Alya was saying was completely true, something about all this was suddenly not sitting too well. She didn’t know what it was, but anything Nadja had to offer would not be something she was interested in.

Marinette sat in silence, mulling it over as Alya practically bounced beside her.

She thought of the list on her phone. Adrien's commentary about her overly wanting to please attitude. There was only one possible answer. “No!”

“Marinette, come on. Look how famous we are getting. This is massive and such great publicity.” Alya was practically begging her; but it made no difference, she didn’t want this type of fame, the whole point of what she was doing was to seem normal. This was far from normal. Was Adrien right? Was she being fake all this time?

“Alya, I said no! I’ll talk to Chat Noir and see if he wants to take part, but for me there’s not a chance.” She took her mug, draining the liquid inside and wiping her mouth with enough force to take the top layer of skin off. She’d said ‘no’ and all she wanted to do was tell Adrien.

“Fine,” Alya huffed, settling back into the chair. “I suppose I’ll just have to think of something else to get me into the professional world of journalism.”

“No! Stop! You’re not guilt-tripping me into this. I’ve already said I would date a possible ‘Chat Noir’ and — as much as I want to back out of this — a deal is a deal. However, I’m not going to let you sway me into something else. This is getting out of hand as it is.” Marinette stood from where she was sitting and made her way back into the kitchen, placing the mug into the sink and turning on the faucet. She couldn’t look at Alya. One glance and she was sure she would cave.

Alya followed after, positioning her mug beside Marinette’s.

“I’m sorry,” Alya said, “I was just joking. I really am grateful for you doing this on the blog. I know it’s out of your comfort zone.”

“It’s okay. I just… something happened last night; Adrien said something to me and made me realise that I should probably look closer at what I’m doing. Maybe I'm being a bit of a people pleaser.”

“Really?” Alya leaned one hip against the counter as she studied Marinette, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Buttercup said that.”

“Yeah, well, he told me to send my soup back because it was cold and I said it was fine. I didn’t mind it that way, really. Then he pretty much demanded I do it and that I need to not worry about upsetting the waitress; who, FYI, was totally hitting on Adrien.”

“All this came from cold soup?” snickered Alya.

“It wasn’t so much to soup but the principle of getting what I wanted without worrying about others.”

Moving from the kitchen, Marinette made her way towards the sofa again, settling down and picking up her phone. She began to scan through her social media accounts, looking at Fei and Luka’s recent vacation pictures before stopping and squealing, her eyes widening in excitement.

“Alya!” she shouted, “Alya! Come quick!”

Her friend skidded into the room, almost sending herself over the sofa like a trainee for Ninja Warrior. “What? Is there a new supervillain?”

Marinette thrust the object into Alya’s face, causing Alya to squeal and take the phone from her; two fingers pinching the screen and zooming in. “Oh my goodness! Marinette… they’re… they’re…”

“They’re engaged!”

Marinette was delighted for her friend and honorary cousin, the two beaming with happiness as they stood displaying the ring on a Safari in Africa; elephants roaming freely in the background. Her heart grew thinking about the two — the two she’d set up.

She grabbed the phone from Alya’s hands and typed a little reply on the post before pulling up her messages and finding her group chat with the newly engaged couple. She was thrilled for them, and if she could help find them their happily ever after, then there had to be hope out there that she could find hers too.

“Back to the soup. So Buttercup attempted to get you to stand up for yourself? Did you?”

Marinette shook her head. “Adrien did it for me.” She continued to scroll through social media coming to a halt when she fell on a picture of herself with Adrien. She was following his hashtag and it seemed his fans were still as sneaky as they were back in their younger days.

“Anyone would think you two were on a date. I’m surprised the girls haven’t bombarded WhatsApp with questions and messages of congratulations.”

“They have more sense than that. They know if I’d managed to do anything slightly momentous like confess to Adrien they would be the first to know.” She looked at the picture again and felt her stomach flip. They looked good together. Really good — and happy.

Their colours perfectly complimented each other as they sat opposite in a deep and almost intimate conversation.

“Well, I’m glad your date left you and you managed to have a date/not date with Adrien.”

“So am I,” she said wistfully, examining the picture once more.

An alarm began to blare out of her phone; a quick look at the wall clock told her it was time for patrol. A funny drop in her stomach had her standing and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Why had the sudden thought of seeing Chat Noir — her partner and best friend — suddenly sent her into a spiral?

Ladybug landed on the rooftop, for once beating her partner in anti crime to their meeting point. She began to pace backwards and forwards, playing with her yo-yo ‘walking the dog’ and making ‘cat’s cradles’. She found this therapeutic. Using yo-yo skills she only dreamed of back in her youth; she would have been so popular if she could have crack these out in her early teens.

“You told me you didn’t play with it.”

She never heard him land but his deep, masculine voice made it very clear Paris’ number one hero was here.

She continued spinning the yo-yo in a multitude of ways before looking over to him, raising her eyebrows. “You’re just jealous because you can’t play with your big stick.”

A gasp sounded from his mouth as her yo-yo flew from her hands and into the air, the mortification from the innuendo she’d just said blending her cheeks into her mask.

They both looked up., the sun blinding them and stopping any chance of noting the direction of the yo-yo.

Until it began to make its descent…

Perfectly in line with Chat’s mane of wild hair …

Dropping his chin to his chest, he covered his head with his arms and cowarded from the impending impact. Ladybug stretched out at the last second to grab the object and save Chat’s pretty blond hair from becoming a rather impressive nest for a rather unattractive lump.

“What the hell was that?” Chat questioned, a slight raise in his voice making him sound like a pubescent school boy.

“I’m sorry, I just… you said… and then I… I tried to joke too, only now I realise it wasn’t funny.”

“Well, next time you want to attack me, give me the heads up. You always seem to get me when I’m least expecting it.” He rubbed a hand through his hair, before slowing down and looking up through heavy lidded eyes. “And, FYI, I do play with my –”

Sending her yo-yo out, she wrapped it around him tightly, before tugging and spinning him around as he was let loose. Once the yo-yo was untwined, Chat Noir continued to spin a couple more times before collapsing onto the rooftop.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” She pointed at him, his hands coming up to enhance his shrug. She sat down beside him and crossed her legs, dropping him a quick peck on the cheek before talking.

“Where’s today’s blog Bugaboo? I’m on tenterhooks about what’s happening in your love life.”

“I only woke up an hour ago, give me a chance. Anyway, more importantly, Nadja Chamack has contacted The Ladyblog. They want an interview.” She picked up a small stone beside her and began to push it around her hand.

“Why? How do they want to embarrass you this time?”

Ladybug shook her head. “Not just me, Kitty, you too.” She continued to explain how much they liked the blog and how they wanted an interview to go more in depth with both the heroes.

The cat rolled his eyes before resting back on his hands, supporting himself from behind and crossing one ankle over the other. The movement brought attention to his legs; his long, lean, muscular legs. Stop it!

“Pfft! Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather eat Plagg’s ripe old cheese. What did you say?”

“The same… well… more or less.” Ladybug giggled, moving to the edge of the rooftop and setting herself down, before tapping the space next to her for her partner. Chat scooted over to her lazily, seating himself beside her and dropping her a top class super smile.

“Can you believe she’s called the blog ‘A Super Guide to Super Dating’.” Ladybug positioned her hands as though she was broadcasting the name in Broadway lights.

“And is it?” he questioned, his eyes intently glaring in her direction.

“It’s super something alright,” she huffed as she picked invisible lint from the thigh and threw it from the roof. Her face must have morphed into one in need of consoling because at that moment Chat Noir placed one hand on her shoulder and started to rub.

“That bad, huh?”

“I wish I could say it was bad. I could fix ‘bad’. It’s worse than that. It’s pathetic and embarrassing, and abysmal.”

Chat laughed. “Come on, Bugaboo. Something good must have happened?”

Without malice, she looked at him with one eyebrow raised questioning his understanding of the situation. He knew exactly what would have happened on the date. He knew her well enough to know if she went out anywhere problems tended to follow.

“Bug?”

She sighed. “Remember I said I was madly clumsy?” He nodded in response. “Well it seems the clumsiness has a new partner: mortifying bad luck.”

A snort came from the boy beside her, and she couldn’t help but give him an evil glare.

“Sorry,” he coughed.

Throwing herself back onto the rooftop, she placed her hands on her eyes and rubbed them roughly, finally removing them to a sparkle of black dots in front of her.

“Do you think we’re just not meant to date? That holding the Miraculous means we’re bound to be single forever. It just seems impossible with the secrets we have to keep and constantly having to run out on dates?” Ladybug mused.

She knew she sounded defeated, and she knew that wasn't normal for her, her resilience a major attribute to her hero demeanour; but, even riding the high from her date/not date with Adrien, the question still hung whether a relationship would be possible, or even plausible?

Chat Noir lay back beside her, his hands resting on his unfairly toned stomach. The guy must work out for hours. “I’ve told you numerous times, M’Lady, it’d be easier if you just dated me.”

He turned his head towards her and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed, welcoming her partner's light relief in the middle of another of her breakdowns. This guy deserved a medal for putting up with her.

“In all seriousness though, I need to ask you Bug — just one last time. Could this ever happen? Us I mean?” He really was the sweetest man she’d ever met.

A smile graced her lips and she stretched out and placed a hand on top of his. “You’re wonderful, Kitty, you really truly are, but there will always be another villain, another threat. I can’t see the option for us to know each other more than this.”

As she spoke the words it seemed like the door had finally closed. That this was the final time he would ever bring up the subject. Not wanting the end to finally reach their unfortunate ‘never to happen’ love story, Ladybug pushed on in the silence.

“Enough about me and my disaster of a love life though, how’s the search going for you? Any luck with that girl?”

Ladybug was almost blinded by her partner's smile. She’d never seen him reach this point of unabridged happiness. “We may have been on a date last night.”

She attempted to keep the smile there, looking into her partner’s glowing eyes as her stomach churned.

“And how was the date?” She asked, praying he’d say awful even if his face was telling her everything but.

He turned his head, looking back up to the sky. The lowering sun shining through his hair made it look like a halo framing his Godly face. He was a beautiful specimen of a man. One who could break hearts everywhere and anywhere, and whoever this girl was that had stolen his heart was lucky to have gained herself such a catch. Ladybug prayed that the girl realised exactly what she had and treated him properly.

“It was good… she was flirting… I was flirting. She’s just…” he sighed before rubbing his own eyes in a similar fashion to what she had done mere moments ago.

Something was bugging him — the pun somewhere between a coincidence and fact.

“Tell me, Kitty.”

Silence hung in between them. A thickness similar to the wall of their secret identities. He wasn’t telling her something, of that she was sure. She placed her own hands on her stomach, making a mental note to increase her ab work out that evening at the gym.

As she considered her regime for the evening, Chat’s voice quietly broke through the late afternoon sunlight.

“I suppose...”

The words hammered against her chest. A drill battering at her resolve as she attempted to keep quiet and allow him to speak.

“I really, really like this girl. I have done so for years, and there might be a chance that I’m in love with her. Last night was wonderful; we seemed to bond in a way we never have before, moving from just friends to something else, and I’m quite sure the attraction is mutual too. But…”

He stopped talking, his hands moving from his eyes up into his hair, resting behind his head as he lazed against the rooftop. A cat stretching out in the sun.

“But,” she whispered, encouraging him to continue, wondering if he was facing the same dilemmas as she was.

“I needed clarification from… you.”

Ladybug sat up and stared down at him. Was he actually being serious?

“Why? What does it have to do with me?”

“It’s… complicated. I can’t seem to control my feelings,” he groaned, sitting up beside his partner and taking a deep breath. “She’s such a good friend, and she means so much to me. I don’t think I could stand only giving her a part of my heart.”

Ladybug creased her eyebrows, studying the torn face of her partner. “Why can’t you give her the whole of your heart? How do you know what will happen between you if you don’t at least try?” Ladybug asked, reaching out and grabbing one of his hands, delicately.

His gaze was intense, his green eyes showing a flurry of emotions ranging from hurt to comfort, to aggravation… to love.

“I went to kiss her last night. I was so close. But I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it because I realised that if I kissed her it would change everything. That’s why I needed to ask you one last time if we had a chance, because when I got home I realised I was relieved I didn’t kiss her. I want to be able to offer her everything when I do that. And I couldn’t last night knowing part of my heart was still holding out for you.”

Chapter Text

Marinette checked her phone once more before placing it in her locker with her other belongings. She hadn’t heard from Adrien since he texted her to let her know he was home last night, and she knew due to exams coming up he wasn’t attending the class this evening.

Her head was struggling to understand what was happening though. She thought they’d had a good time, and she thought they’d progressed in their relationship but the communication line remained dead.

Along with her worry and curiosity about her relationship/non relationship with Adrien, Chat Noir’s words were swirling about in her head. He had been holding out for her after all this time. But now that door was well and truly closed. They’d continued to talk for another hour or so before Chat had an important event to get to, leaving her alone and to wallow deeply in her thoughts; only adding to a strange churning in her stomach.

Her head was going crazy; part wanted her to turn back time and just give up whatever this was with Adrien and go with Chat instead — but she couldn’t. She could never give him up. She didn’t know how to not love Adrien Agreste, and in all honesty she was scared to find a norm without him. The crush had dominated her life for years.

But then there was Chat… the guy that was always there, the guy that drove her to the brink of insanity and brought her back with the sweetest of gestures. He was the guy she couldn’t be a hero without, the guy she couldn’t be her without. It was them against the world.

She slammed the locker closed with a little more force than necessary and headed over to the mirror — hair tie on wrist and determination in her mind. She’d worry about this another time. Right now she had to get through another boxercise class and a possible meeting with Paul.

Don’t forget about the blog! Alya’s parting words to her echoed through her mind. In the matter of a week the whole blog had become second to whatever this was with Adrien.

So, tonight she had to get back on the plan. Back to remembering why she was paying almost half of her wages on a gym membership. She needed to look for another date… another frog as it would seem. She flipped her head down towards the floor and gathered it together before wrapping the band around the makeshift ponytail. Securing it off her face and into a messy bun.

Just maybe someone would be around tonight to take her mind off Adrien or Chat. She needed a distraction. Someone who she could maybe fall for. Someone like Chat Noir in civilian form.

Dammit!! No thinking about Adrien or Chat Noir, not tonight. She just needed to find someone nice and normal for her next date.

Next date? She let out a raspy breath. What a mess!

Studying her face in the mirror she noticed it was looking dry and crispy; nothing at all like the soft, shiny skin she was used to seeing. Moving in closer she glared at herself, obviously she'd not been keeping on top of her skin care regimen.

Looking down at the counter she spotted something that might actually come in handy. A pump action moisturiser. She studied the white cream in the container, contemplating the pro’s and con’s of using this hand cream on her face.

Fingertips trailed across her cheek, she began to worry that with the way her skin had dried up it’d take the top layer of skin off her fingertips. Turning her head from side to side, the lack of shine on her cheeks made her look like a snake about to shed its skin. Scaly.

She wouldn’t mention anything in front of the kwami’s, afterall, she didn’t want to offend Sass; but walking around with a face like this just wasn’t an option when it came to trying to pull. Taking a deep breath she pumped the lotion into her hand and began to spread it equally over her skin — hoping it would help her look less like an armadillo’s shell and more like a well moisturised Princess.

It didn’t matter too much anyway, Adrien wasn’t here to witness her previously wind dried face… or the fact it was now shining brighter than the milky way.

She continued to massage the cream around her face, from her forehead down her nose, before spreading it onto her chin, but it just didn’t seem to be rubbing in the way she wanted it too.

“Damn it!” It didn’t seem to matter how much she rubbed the cream, it just smudged itself in a greasy mess around her face. Maybe this wasn’t exactly a great idea.

Checking her watch, she saw there was 5 minutes until the boxercise class started — too late to change her mind and go home. Instead, she strode out of the changing area wearing the cream like the next best facial trend. If she acted with confidence people would!’t question the greasy sheen. Right?

She wandered past the plastics; the waitress from the previous night tutting as she passed, and made her way over towards the fitness studio, head held high and fishing rod ready to catch a man. Not having Adrien here tonight would be a blessing in some ways.

Firstly, she could approach other men, not just hang around with the guy she wanted but couldn’t have. Secondly… well, there wasn’t a second positive, just the negative of not having him there.

Opening the door she stepped into the studio only to find a new instructor standing at the front of the class. He was tall — at least six foot two — with wild blond hair.

Her breath stuttered in her throat, her feet planting firmly to the floor as she looked at the male talking to a couple of other students in the class. His physique was very healthy with curves in all of the right places, and his ass was definitely an element of his body which would look right in black super spandex.

“Marinette.” A voice pulled her back into the room, her body spiritually becoming one again as she walked over to the group which had called her, her gaze being ripped away from someone who might possibly be her partner.

“Hi,” she smiled, though she was quite sure the classification of said facial movement would be clearly marked as psychotic.

“We’ll catch up with you later.” Two of the guys said their goodbyes, leaving her alone with one sole member of the small group. An attractive brunette called Gaston (yes, she sang the song in her head too).

“Gaston, hi. How are you?” Marinette attempted to keep her eyes on the male in front of her, yet everything in her body was yelling at her to turn around and look at the guy standing at the front. She needed to see his eyes. She needed to see if they were Mister Bug green.

Gaston smiled at her and her heart quickened in her chest. Oh no! She had started to sweat. The look in his eyes and slight tremor in his stance gave it away; she was quite sure she knew what he’d called her over to talk about and even though she wanted to scream ‘No’ and run in the opposite direction she had to go through with this.

She steeled herself ready for the conversation. Focus Marinette, it’s all for the blog!

“So it’s Leo’s wedding Saturday and I don’t have a date. I was wondering, if you would want to go with me?” Gaston had his arms folded across his chest and Marinette was almost certain it was an attempt at making his biceps stand out a little more prominently than usual. He was a big guy. Someone who obviously spent a lot of time in the gym; more certainly on the weights.

Marinette watched as he bounced from one foot to the other, wondering if he was about to drop to the floor and into a rather intricate and extreme Jabbawockeez routine. Looking at the hopeful expression on his face, and reminding herself that this was only for the blog, she had no other choice than to say; through gritted teeth…

“Yes, sure.”

It wasn’t that there was something wrong with Gaston. It’s just that he wasn't Adrien Agreste — a seemingly recurring problem at the moment. His dark features were opposite to what she’d usually go for but, from the few classes she’d spoken to him in, he seemed nice enough.

“Oh, that’s fantastic! Here.” He turned and reached into his bag, pulling out his phone and handing it to her. “Add your number and I’ll send you the details.”

The door opened and the remaining members of their group walked in… everyone except Adrien.

“Dubois, good to see you. It’s been a while.” The instructor's voice greeted the man walking through the door and pulled Marinette’s attention away from Gaston and back to the blond standing front and certain in the studio. Her fingers remained hovering over the keyboard. “Still got the pirate hairstyle I see, well, I better watch out for that killer right hook. Argh!”

The men started laughing and Gaston’s phone almost made for a face to face with the floor.

Did he just pun?

The blond continued to laugh, greeting his obvious friends before calling attention to the class, his eyes perusing the studio and finally landing on her. His green sparkling eyes.

Mister Bug green.

Suddenly it seemed someone had come in and sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Her head was spinning as a tremble standard in her legs. Was he? No, it couldn’t be? Could it?

He dropped Marinette a wink and she all but fainted.

If there was a possibility of anyone in this studio being Chat Noir she was quite sure it would be him.

Keeping her wits about her, she finished inputting her number into Gaston’s phone and handed it back with both a shaky hand and a shaky smile.

“I’ll see you on Saturday night then?” she asked, attempting to keep her friendly manner as she committed to yet another date.

This was going to be a very long night.

“So, you must be Marinette, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Marinette froze in her movements, her fists held in front of her face and ready to strike. “All good things I hope,” she mused, continuing with her 1-2 punches.

He laughed and she marvelled at his incredibly white teeth. There’s no way they were normal, they must have been veneers. Did Chat Noir have veneers? She made a mental note to check his teeth out when she saw him next.

“Leo said you were slowly becoming one of his star students.”

She giggled, “I don’t know about that. I rarely get through a class without injuring someone else.”

“Arr, yes. Am I right in thinking you jabbed Adrien Agreste not too long ago? Is that why he’s not here tonight? Is he scared of you? You don’t look too dangerous to me.”

Marinette stopped again, pulling off her gloves and tucking them under her armpits. “Try sparring with me and we’ll see,” she said with a smile.

“Why’s that? Do you want to hit on me or something?”

“Was that a pun?” She frowned and looked closer at the tall, strapping male in front of her. He really was full of a lot of Chat’s attributes and even though it felt like he could be her partner something just wasn’t fitting.

“Of course. Puns are purrfect, didn’t you know?”

Her eyes widened and she almost fell backwards as she put some distance between the two of them. There really were some uncanny similarities.

It seemed their new instructor was quite the skilled athlete. Though not a national champion like Adrien, it seemed Frederick Aberg was a talented fencer, plus a champion boxer and well known weightlifter. His Swedish heritage was a perfect fit for his golden blond hair and striking green eyes — ones that had her questioning her own sanity.

There really was a possibility that he was her partner.

“Come on, show me what you’ve got. Maybe you’re our next Ladybug?”

She squeaked from his words, unable to get her hands back into the gloves as she fumbled to set them back in place. “Me, Ladybug, pfft…” She muddled around again, struggling to secure her hand in the right place.

“Come here,” he laughed, taking his own gloves off and moving forward to help her. He was delicate in his touch. His hands moved in a well trained way to place the gloves on her own. “Maybe I had gotten it wrong, maybe Ladybug would be a bit too far of a stretch. You’re a little clumsy.”

She sucked in almost too much air, the dire need to cough encroaching her lungs as she attempted to say something back. “Lady, me, bugging, no…”

He laughed again, the sound starting to affect her a lot more than she would be proud to admit. “Nice stutter.” He winked again. This was too much… far too much; and she was getting hot — far too hot — the sweat prickling on her brow.

“There you go.” He pulled the velcro and tightened it around her wrist. “All secure. Show me what you’re made of.”

She began to punch at the pads he’d placed on his own hands, her mind going into overdrive with everything she’d seen and heard today. Every now and then she glanced up, catching his wild blond hair falling over his brow, or the proud look in his eyes as she hit the right punch at the right pressure.

Frederick worked her hard, pushing her on and on with words of encouragement and positive praise. She began to up her strength, her speed and her power, completely different to how she had with Adrien in the past. She wasn’t afraid of hurting Frederick, instead she wanted him to feel it, to keep spewing out the words of inspiration. She began to feel herself growing out of breath — overheating; her head growing clammy from the exertion of the physical exercise.

The sweat began to trickle down her face and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt such an extreme reaction. She’d done a lot of jogging — a lot — usually to calm her mind and keep her on track whilst trying to defend the Miracle box but she’d never remembered sweat so freely rolling from her head and down her cheeks.

She felt it begin to collect around her eyes, sitting unpleasantly on her eyelashes with only the thin layer of hair keeping the droplets from running into her eyes. Until it couldn’t hold the capacity back anymore.

Marinette lifted an arm to her eyes and rubbed across, a slight stinging sensation beginning to bite in her right eye; one that seemed to make her struggle to open it up again.

“Are you okay?” Frederick stopped to look at Marinette, who now had one eye closed as she continued to punch in the rhythm and routine he wanted her to. She must look insane.

She rubbed her eye again — rather aggressively.

“Yep, fine. There’s just something in my eye.” Before she knew what was happening a second drop fell into her other eye, the stinging now taking over both.

Her thoughts travelled back to the hand cream she’d used on her face, cursing herself for making such a stupid decision. She continued to hit, once, twice… until she was squeezing her eyes closed tightly trying to ease the stinging and stop herself from crying. She swore her eyeballs were about to fall out.

“Marinette?”

She rubbed her eyes once more, the pain only intensifying as she kept them tightly closed.

“Marinette, are you okay?” The voice was so familiar, and she couldn’t help the tension once again flooding inside her as she was one hundred percent sure it was Chat Noir talking to her at the moment. She’d recognise his voice anywhere! Maybe he was Frederick ? Oh, this was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Yeah, yeah, I just need to…” She trailed off as she attempted to open her eyes and look around the room. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for. Whether she wanted to find a towel, a bottle of water — or something to remove her eyeballs? All she knew was that she needed to find something to soothe the pain — and quickly.

With everything blurred it made it a lot more difficult to locate anything, anywhere. Each person or thing looked nothing less than a giant blob as she stumbled over what she thought might be a towel.

Bending down to the floor she moved the item only to find it was someone's swimming trunks — from the Chat Noir design she guessed it was a child’s pair. With a quick rub, she managed to open her eyes enough to see a pair of goggles laying on the floor underneath them.

The stinging pain suddenly intensified; most likely it was the chlorine mixing in with the cream and making the strongest burning substance on the planet.

Marinette grabbed the goggles and placed them on. If she could just escape out of the room without too much attention, she could use the goggles to restrict anymore cream from venturing into her eyes, shower and then escape home… hopefully with her two eyeballs still intact.

Stretching the elastic, she placed the goggles over her head and secured them to her face. Thank goodness Adrien wasn’t here to see yet another embarrassing moment in her life. Maybe joining this gym wasn’t her greatest idea.

She stood up with confidence, set on making a beeline to the doorway only to collide with a hard body, one which was decorated with blond hair and a soft, caring smile — which blew into full on belly laugh.

“Marinette? Why are you wearing Carapace goggles?”

… and just like that her evening had been ruined, as once again she had made a fool out of herself in front of a late arriving Adrien Agreste.

Alya snickered as she sat on the closed toilet lid whilst Marinette soaked herself in a mountain of bubbles, two slices of cucumber on her eyes and a glass of wine in hand.

“I know it’s not custom for the maid of honour to make a speech; but when you get married, there’s not a chance in hell I’m missing out on that opportunity. Your love life is a disaster; though, I have to say, the Carapace goggles were a great choice.”

Marinette groaned and lowered herself into the bath water, keeping her glass above the bubbles. The glass held the only thing that would get her through the night — alcohol. She sat back up and took a drink, whipping the cucumber from her red rimmed eyes to glare at her friend.

“You know this is your fault, right? Everything about what’s been happening to me is your fault!”

“Don’t blame me for your weird romancing skills. I don’t know what it is about Adrien but it seems as soon as he’s in the vicinity you just can’t control yourself.” The redhead giggled, standing from the toilet and moving over to the mirror. She had a date with Nino that night, Marinette remaining lonely in their apartment as the two lovebirds canoodled, kissed, made out and… well, Marinette didn’t want to think any further.

“Ugh!” Marinette said, draining the remaining liquid from her glass.

“You have a date this weekend though. Maybe, this is the one.” Alya kept her eyes on the mirror and shrugged her shoulders, reaching from her toothbrush and coating it in paste. Yep, definite makeouts were imminent.

“Definitely not!” she stated before continuing quietly and pathetically. “He’s not Adrien.”

Alya snorted, spitting the toothpaste into the bowl and washing it out. “God girl! Well, what about this new instructor?”

Marinette placed the cucumber back on her eyes, sighing as she tried to figure out who or what this new instructor was. So much of him hinted at him being her partner, but something just didn’t feel right. There was definitely a missing factor which she just couldn’t place her finger on; however, because of the deal she made with Alya, there was no choice but to try and get a date with him.

“I’ll see what happens; but, only because of our deal. I’m not certain he is Chat Noir, there’s something just not right there.”

“You know what you promised me, anyone who we think might be Chat Noir gets a date. Look at you — a date Saturday and then another possible date the following week? I’m proud of you, Marinette.”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

The doorbell to the apartment rang causing Alya to swing out the doorway and shout at the newcomer to enter the apartment. Both sure it would be Nino.

A knock on the bathroom door sounded as Alya placed on her final layer of lipstick.

“It’s open,” Marinette shouted, positioning the bubbles to make sure Nino didn’t catch an eye as he entered the bathroom.

The creek of the door sounded around the room and the next five minutes of her life were something Marinette wanted to erase.

Marinette would like to say she would be embarrassed by Nino entering the bathroom, but it had become quite a regular occurrence since she and Alya had moved in together. Nino would make himself known, say ‘hi’ and then disappear — simple.

What she wasn’t expecting was the gasp that sounded from the doorway and caused her face to once more over heat.

Removing the cucumber from her eyes, her head shot to look towards the direction of the noise, only to find Adrien standing there turning a rather peculiar shade of red; his face in competition with her super suit. He was dressed in his gym clothing and Marinette was guessing he’d come straight from his PT session.

“I'm here to see you naked, I mean – I’m here to pick you up, Alya, Nino’s car has breasts — I mean — has broken down so I said I’d come and get you on my way home from the gym. I hope you don’t mind.”

The poor guy didn’t know where to look and Marinette couldn’t stop looking at him. Alya, however, seemed to be finding this quite comical and was taking her time leaving the bathroom.

“Catch you tomorrow, Marinette.” She waved towards her friend; Marinette, attempting to stick her middle finger up in response. As Alya sauntered out of the room, it seemed Adrien was completely frozen to the spot. “Come on, Agreste,” her friend chimed. “You have a hot date to get me to.”

Alya grabbed Adrien’s arm and pulled him from the room, his eyes remaining firmly on Marinette as he exited. “T-t-tomorrow, see you.”

She watched him go, her eyes trailing him every step of the way until the door clicked shut behind them.

“Tikki, why do I have to be such a disaster?”

Dropping down under the bubbles, she took a couple of seconds to hide away from the world and the horrendous mess she seemed to be scattering in her wake.

Could this actually get any worse?

Chapter Text

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [4]  

Don’t judge a book by its cover.

Dear Buginettes,

How’s your dating journey going so far? 

It’s been a couple of days since I last posted and I thought it was time for an update. 

The first date I had didn’t exactly work out quite the way I planned — my date ran away before we’d even ordered our drinks — but low and behold when one door closes another window opens … and this one threw itself wide open.

Can you remember back to your first real crush? The one that made you daydream and believe that your life could be a fairytale? That one day you would open the door and the love of your life would be down on one knee, flowers surrounding him on a candle lit doorstep as he fumbled his way through the most romantic love declaration of your life?

Close your eyes and remember how that romance felt. Remember how that one person made you reevaluate your entire life plan just so they were a major part of it alongside you, holding your hand and guiding you along the way. 

Can you picture it? 

Great! Hold onto it. 

That love still exists out there, you just need to find the person whose soul matches your own. Don’t be shallow and don’t take the outside as the be all and end all to your love. The heart is the only part of the body worth judging… the heart which is yours.

My first date on this journey was unexpected but it was only the first date. One date with one person; one whose heart was not made for mine; as mine was not for his. It’s no one’s fault… It's just life. The crazy old game of love. 

A game where you play to win.

I have agreed to my second date tonight. A date, once again, with someone who's not my usual type. But tonight I made a promise to put my heart and soul on the line because at the end of the day it’s the only way I’ll win.

Open eyes, and open heart… Here goes official date number 2. 

Ladybug 🐞 

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guys interested: 2 (-1)

Guys numbers: 3

Dates Planned: 1

Dates Completed: 1 (+ a half)

Hits: 20,005

Posted 20 seconds ago

Turning to check herself out, Marinette twisted and turned in front of the mirror. It was approaching late February and the weather surrounding Paris was still bitter and cold — almost matching the way she felt. 

After Luka and Fei’s not too surprising engagement, Marinette had found out that once again she’d played the wonderful matchmaker when Zoé and Kagami finally revealed they were more than ‘just good friends’. 

Thank you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Adding to that, the messages had started to flood in with thanks to Ladybug’s amazing blog of gobbledygook. It was amazing that, in the space of only one week, others out there had already found someone and she couldn’t help but feel jealous of each of those people. They’d managed to put themselves out there and were already reaping in the rewards of their hard work, whereas she was still living off a disastrous first date and an almost/kind of date with her long time crush. 

She was a mess, an absolute mess; lying on the blog to make it sound like the failure of the date was a lot more ‘destiny’ instead of her feeling like crap about her lack of date-ability once more. You really could post whatever you wanted on the internet. 

“You look beautiful, Marinette.” Tikki hovered beside her holder as Marinette gave herself another check over in the mirror. Her dress was beautiful; a deep mauve red with puffy sleeves cuffed at her wrists, and a long maxi skirt complete with slit up one leg. It was one of her most prized dresses, one she had worked hours on for herself. She wasn’t entirely sure when or where she was going to wear it — at the time — but she was sure it was going to be a showstopper.

“Do you not think it’s too much?” She took a long gold chain from her jewellery box and added it to the dress. The neck loop was tight, leaving a long gold chain hanging down the bare ‘V’ at the front of her dress, disappearing into the waistband.

Many thoughts played in her head about what she was about to bring herself face-to-face with. Of course, the guys from the boxercise class were going to be there including Pringles Paul and Gaston, but she was also going to see her possible partner, aka Frederick and, maybe even, Adrien. How did something so simple suddenly become so confusing? 

She was meant to have turned up at a gym, taken a couple of classes, found a guy and dated for a little while to comment about on the blog; posting tips and tricks for surviving first arguments and meeting the parents. She wasn’t meant to bump into Adrien again or find someone who could possibly be her partner, in addition to struggling to hold a guy's attention. 

“Certainly not,” Tikki said, her little fins holding her hips. “Though I am wondering who you’re making all the effort for?” Tikki giggled, spiralling around her as she grabbed Marinette’s hair and placed it into a rather technical chignon. 

“Don’t start. This is an absolute disaster.” 

“Why is it?” 

Marinette made her way over to her clutch bag and grabbed it along with her shawl.

“It just is! I don’t know what I’m doing, and the more I think about it the deeper the mess I'm getting into. I just—” The doorbell rang, halting Marinette’s breakdown and instead, having her turn her attention to her kwami for moral support.

“You’re going to be okay, Marinette.” Tikki smiled, warmly. “I promise.”

Opening her bag to allow her little friend in, Marinette took a deep breath. It was going to be okay. She was going to be okay. She had to be.

Gaston led Marinette into the ballroom at a local hotel, one hand positioned on her lower back, after a rather calm journey to the venue. They’d spoken a lot in the taxi ride over and it seemed they had quite a few similar interests, ones Marinette would have never had guessed. He’d been the gentleman Paul wasn’t; opening the door for her and allowing her in first. In all, she was feeling a lot calmer and a lot more positive about the evening’s events.

“Canapé?” A waiter stopped in front of them offering the tray out to both Marinette and Gaston. 

Marinette looked over the small appetisers attempting to judge what exactly they were.

“Fantastic,” Gaston announced, taking two from the tray and handing one over to Marinette. “These look wonderful, don’t you think Marinette?” 

She looked down at the canapé, still none the wiser to what it actually was; part of her dreading he’d actually just handed her shellfish. It had been a long time since she’d eaten the cursed creatures, the last time resulting in quite an inflammation of hives and a trip to the emergency room. That was six years ago though. 

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Gaston’s voice brought her back to the present, and out of her shellfish filled nightmares. 

“Oh — um — I think…” she looked at his face only to find the look of someone unimpressed by her actions. Once again she had disappointed her date. What was wrong with her?

“I was just waiting to hear your thoughts on it,” she lied. 

Marinette smiled up towards her date, a smile which barely scraped the definition as she lifted the canapé towards her mouth. 

“It’s wonderful,” Gaston said, his enthusiasm would have the chef believing he’d never eaten before in his life. “Best one I’ve ever tasted. If you don’t hurry up and eat it, I may just have to snatch it from your fingers.”

His hand reached out to Marinette’s and cupped it, grasping hard and bringing it towards his mouth. 

Was he actually going to put her fingers in his mouth? The extra couple of inches he’d just manoeuvred her hand was a crystal clear indication that it was, indeed, aiming for his mouth. 

Not wanting her hand to make contact with Gaston’s mouth, Marinette whipped it out of his grasp and shoved the whole canapé into her own; manners forgotten.

“Hummmm–” She closed her eyes and bit down on the rubbery texture. Lobster, maybe? 

Trying not to look like she was going to throw up, she swallowed the canapé, opened her mouth and showed her tongue to Gaston. Did she suddenly think she was on ‘I’m a Celebrity Get Me Outta Here’ and eating a boar's penis? Seriously, what was wrong with her?

Gaston screwed his mouth up, a sure sign he thought she was disgusting, demented or, understandably, both.

“That was…” 

She couldn’t finish the words. Instead, she grabbed a wine glass from a nearby tray and swallowed the liquid down in two rather unlady-like gulps; running the back of her hand over her lips to swipe the dampness before checking for any lipstick marks — only to be pleasantly surprised when her hand remained gloss free.

“So,” Gaston coughed; the poor guy looked completely out of his depth and to be honest, she wasn’t surprised. She was a mess of a woman. A mess of a woman who’d just clocked a man walking through the door and locked her eyes onto him like a homing missile.

He was wearing a superior fitted black suit, his blond hair perfectly positioned on his head and a smile to light up the entire room. Yet there was something with Frederick Aberg that just didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t quite place it, but the way he walked and moved just put her on edge.  

“Want do you say?” 

Marinette looked up towards Gaston, her mouth opening and closing as she thought of a response… if only she knew what the question was. Her slight lapse in concentration had once again made her look like a fool. Gaston continued to look at her, his eyes calling for an answer. 

Oh Merde!

There was a very simple choice here. She could go with a simple yes, or a possible soul destroying no. She looked up into his eyes, judging what to say by the expressions he was giving her. 

“Well…” she began with slight hesitation. “Is it something you really want to do?” She had no idea what she was saying; but, maybe asking him a question to answer a question could be a good idea. She held her breath, waiting for his response.

He looked over her head at the dance floor. “Well, we are at a party, dancing seems like the natural thing to do.”

Exhaling and praising all great things that this was all he wanted to do, Marinette nodded in agreement. “Lead the way.”

Gaston took her into the middle of the dance floor, both bobbing and swaying to the music as it blasted from the speakers at an unnatural level. Marinette couldn't say she was fond of the tune being played at the moment, Nino always being her top choice for a DJ — there really was no one better.

They continued to dance, song after song, until she suddenly felt unnervingly warm. She looked up towards Gaston, whose face showed anything but interest in her, only for his eyes to widen and mouth to fall open. He leaned forward towards her ear, his breath hitting her and the smell causing her stomach to turn. Fish and alcohol was not the best mix.

“What’s wrong with your face?” 

She stopped moving and lifted her hand to her cheek, stroking it over and realising it was itching like crazy. 

Oh no!

“I’ll be right back.” 

Turning on her heel, Marinette fled from the dance floor and headed straight towards the restrooms, knowing exactly what she was going to see when she got there. 

Slamming the door open, she headed in the direction of the mirrors keeping her eyes firmly fixated on the floor. The last thing she needed was people like the plastics seeing her in such a state. Relief radiated from her when she found herself alone in the confines of the ladies room.

Finally reaching the countertop, she took a deep breath and looked up only to have her suspicions confirmed – her face looked like something from ‘Night of the Living Dead’. Hives of all shapes and sizes covered her face and heated it to a degree that she was begging to itch. 

Not so delicately, she placed her clutch bag in front of her and began to dig through it. Blister pads, tampons, lip gloss, Tikki, macarons, mascara and a stick of gum — no antihistamines in sight.

Placing both hands on the surface, she leaned forwards and took a couple of deep breaths. This was unbelievable, it had been years since she last had a reaction this extreme and she wasn’t prepared for another one to be happening anytime soon. She shouldn’t have eaten it! Stupid mistake!

Tikki looked up towards her holder with a sorrowful expression, one that showed exactly how deep Marinette had gotten herself into this mess. Tikki might feel sorry for her, but nowhere near as much as she did herself at this moment. 

Finding a hand towel, she placed it under the cold running water and began to remove her makeup and any extra irritations which might be on her face, along with her perfect winged eyeliner and lip gloss. There was no way she was going back out to Gaston now. She pulled out her phone and found his number. 

She closed her phone down; the intense itching kicking up a notch. She needed to get home and find her tablets. Taking the hand towel, she wet it with more cold water, before moving it over her face and neck; the temperature cooling her down and soothing the continuous need to scratch. 

“Oh goodness, have you seen Adrien tonight?”

Because the world obviously didn’t hate her enough, the door opened and the plastics made their way into the opposite mirror. In synchronisation more perfect than herself and Chat Noir in battle, the girls placed down their bags, pulled out their lip gloss and began to apply. Slowly, Marinette backed up into a toilet cubicle and shut the door quietly, she could not be seen by these girls tonight — not in this state.

“Yes!” One plastic stated, the words flowing from her lips like a full on fangirl. Dear Lord!

“He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” another said, her voice taking on an airy dreamy quality. Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes; she looked down at Tikki who displayed the same unimpressed expression as they continued to hide away.

“I don’t know what he sees in her.”

“I agree, Cassandra, you’re so much better looking.”

“Did you see what she was wearing tonight?” A giggle left one of the girls mouths as she spoke and Marinette couldn’t help but think they were talking about her. 

“Mutton dressed as lamb. Seriously, the girl has no style. I heard she makes her own clothing.” A cackle sounded around the restrooms, as all the girls laughed. “She’s obviously using Adrien for his father’s connections.”

Marinette looked down at her dress, her eyes welling with tears as the girls spoke unkind words about her. Did she really look that bad? She’d been so proud of this dress and design, maybe going home would be the best option for her.

Biting her lower lip to control her emotions, Marinette closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, at least enough to walk out with a fake smile and her head held high. She could do this! She was Ladybug for goodness sake!

Finally, the plastics began to pack up and leave the restroom allowing Marinette to make her break for it. Passing through the ballroom once more, she saw Gaston dancing with a blonde haired woman, their bodies pressed close as they bumped and grind on the middle of the dance floor. 

Good, she thought, glad that her date would at least get the night he deserved.

Taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter, she headed for the balcony, needing just a little longer to cool down before she headed home and to Alya’s ridiculing. Maybe she’d just transform and run the rooftops for a little while, maybe Chat Noir would be around for another pep talk? He was so good at those, he always made her feel better. A quick glance at the bar revealed Frederick standing laughing with some of the other boxercise guys and her stomach twisted.

Her hand came to her earring, the intention fully there for her to call on her super suit and escape to the skies. Out on the balcony it gave her easy access to just transform and go, that was until a voice sounded behind her.

“I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

Drowning her glass, she looked down at the patio floor unable to lift her head and meet the eyes of Adrien Agreste. 

“Don’t come any closer!” she warned, she could not be dealing with Adrien and all his Adrieness right now. She wanted to be left alone to wallow in her own self pity, hopefully with a black clad superhero giving her some sort of super effective hugs. 

“Marinette, what’s wrong?” He sounded panicked and now she just felt even more crap for making Adrien worry. 

She sighed, lifting her head and turning slowly to face him, ripping off the bandaid in the motion. He screamed and covered his eyes causing her to scream and cover her face, only to peek through her fingers when she heard the melodic sound of his laughter sailing through the night sky. Marinette watched him move forward, stretching up and placing a hand over her own.

“You ate the canapés, didn’t you?” He was smiling at her in the most kind and generous way she’d ever known, the tears welling in her eyes even more. “Did you forget that you're allergic to shellfish?” he asked, humour fully coating his words as an eyebrow attempted to escape into his hairline.

“I look hideous,” she mumbled, only to have Adrien pull her hands from her face and her body in towards his, engulfing her in a hug; settling her resolve and stopping her from breaking into a full abundance of tears. 

“If that’s a new name for stunningly beautiful, then yes you do.” 

She couldn’t help but snort, a short burst of laughter leaving her mouth. “No need to try and make me feel better. I know I look terrible.”

He pulled back, his hands grasping her upper arms as he spoke softly. “Why on earth would you think that? You’re the most beautiful woman in the room today, and to be honest, you are the most beautiful woman in the room most days.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him. Was he being serious? She knew Adrien was a nice guy, and he was known for throwing around a compliment or two; but, this felt more. It felt personal and heartfelt… and true?

“I d-d-don’t know…”

“Believe me when I say sometimes I can’t look at anyone else. Your brightness and beauty is overpowering.” Adrien stretched up and brushed an escaped stray hair behind her ear, his eyes focusing on what he was doing; her heart beating wildly against her chest.

All of a sudden she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d collapsed in the toilet stall. Her body was probably slumped against the door as the plastics judged her for being in the cubicle for far too long. There was just no way this was real.

“I look like I’ve got the plague,” she said softly, moving her hands up and placing them on his chest. The feel of his body under her hands, a reminder that he was actually there. Even the chill from the cool February evening wasn’t enough to extinguish the sudden heat she felt (and it wasn’t just the allergic reaction).

“You're gorgeous, Marinette – even with the hives.”  

Laughing again, Marinette moved away from Adrien and smacked him on the arm. 

“Would you be opposed to me taking you home? I’m just about done here…” he looked back into the ballroom before stalling, “unless…” His eyes sparkled with mischief, Marinette being pulled in by his playful attitude, regardless of the current itching spreading, now, down her neck. 

“Unless?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow.

“Unless, you — ma chérie — would do me the honours of joining me in this dance?” 

Rolling her eyes, she smiled at her companion. “That’s very dramatic, Adrien.”

“Sometimes I can be a very dramatic guy.” He shrugged, holding out a hand and waiting for her to make the next move.

Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to pull her into his body. The two moulded together in perfection as he began to lead her in a slow and steady sway, much like they’d done many times before.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his chest and listened to the tranquil and calming beat of his heart. The music in the background fell away as she closed her eyes and absorbed herself in Adrien. His steady breathing, the smell of his cologne mixed with an essence of himself, the feel of his warmth as his arms wrapped around her tightly. It was wonderful. Everything was wonderful.

It felt natural. Two people fitting together like two peas in a pod; their bodies integrating as one. She’d always known there was something with Adrien, but in this moment it amazed her how much chemistry was actually there.

Marinette felt Adrien nuzzle the top of her head; a longing sigh being exhaled as her eyes remained closed and allowed her other senses to take over. A sense which was telling her to look up towards him. 

“You really do look stunning tonight.” His words were barely more than a whisper as they danced through the night’s breeze and connected with her ears.

Turning her head, Marinette raised her chin, the glistening orbs of Adrien’s piercing green eyes glared back and called her towards him. She wanted to kiss him. To finally have a taste of Adrien Agreste and the opportunity to be one with him. His head bent down, moving closer and closer, her eyes fluttering to a close and she took the leap to push up into her toes and meet him halfway.

“Marinette?” 

Her eyes opened and turned to the doorway where Frederick stood, his own green eyes reflecting the sparkling lights from those wrapped around the balcony. The moment was lost as dropped to her heels and looked to welcome the newcomer.

“Oh, Frederick, hi.” 

She felt Adrien’s warm protective arms unravel from around her, the cool breeze hitting her back and bringing her out of her fairytale and back into reality — her face once again attacking her with a violent need to scratch.

“I’m sorry I won’t get a chance to speak to you but I really need to go home and sort this out.” She indicated her face and moved away from both the blonds. “I’ll see you next week,” she said, facing Frederick, before changing her attention to Adrien and softening her eyes. “Thank you.”

With that she turned away from them both and made her way of the venue and on towards home wondering if it was fate that Frederick had stopped her from kissing Adrien, or just a case of bad luck?

Arriving home that evening, medicated and almost back to normal, she began to prepare for bed only to notice a notification on her phone. 

New note added.

Opening the app to where Adrien’s list was she noticed a new one had been added to the bottom.

4. Always check what’s in food before eating it — or get me to test it for you first.

Chapter Text

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [4]

The Meet-Cute

Dear Buginettes,

What technically makes a date a success?

Is it when you and the guy you’re out with go your separate ways without hating each other?

Is it when you make it to the end of said date and get the famed ‘first date kiss’?

Or is it when you make a colossal idiot out of yourself and your date doesn’t run a mile?

Last night was my second date since starting this journey and even though I technically ended the night with a different guy, I still had a good time and classed it as a win.

My original date ditched me whilst I was using the toilet and was seen making out with a very attractive brunette in the middle of the dance floor — I believe it was a win for him too, if you know what I mean.

So where do I go from here? It’s quite simple really… for some reason to meet a guy I have to do something out of the ordinary — or slightly embarrassing — so I’m going to try and create a meet-cute.

For those who don’t know what a Meet-Cute is, it's an adorable, cute or even amusing first meeting. For example, one of you could fall on top of the other, punch them in the face (accidently, of course), reach for the same book in a bookstore or even turn up at the wrong lecture and sit next to a really helpful (and maybe attractive) guy.

Take your own meet-cute and run with it,

I will mine.

Ladybug 🐞

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: 1 (-2)

Guy’s numbers: 3

Dates Planned: 0

Dates Completed: 2 (+ a half)

Hits: 28, 999

Posted 30 seconds ago

@Turtle-y_Awesome Ha! Punch someone in the face? You must have heard from one of my friends. She’s horrendously clumsy and right hooked the guy she’s been crushing on for years.

@AA_Longlastingpower @Turtle-y_Awesome That’s hilarious because that’s what happened to me. The girl I like hit me with a good one right in the jaw.

@Turtle-y_Awesome @AA_Longlastingpower yeah, I know!

@AA_Longlastingpower @Turtle-y_Awesome What? How? Do I know you?

@Turtle-y_Awesome @AA_Longlastingpower Oh! Um - no???

@ChatNoir_Official M’Lady takes hitting on guys quite literally. Believe me, I know 😉

@Ladynoirstan_1995 @ChatNoir_Official Whattttttttt?????????

@FortheloveofChat Did Chat Noir just admit to Ladybug hitting on him?! OMG! Is it official???? I think I’m going to cry!

@Chatsbiggestfan Screaming, crying, throwing up!

@ChatNoir_Official Why are you screaming, crying and throwing up? Dating me isn’t that bad, is it?

@AA_Longlastingpower Any girl (or guy) would be lucky to date Chat Noir? I mean… look at him.

@FortheloveofChat Chadrien is a go!!!! This is a big news day!

@Ladynoirstan_1995 What are you talking about @FortheloveofChat? Ladynoir is official! I repeat… Ladynoir is official!

@ChatNoir_Official I never said that. It was just a joke because she hits people as part of her job, you know. See akuma and punch it… and @AA_Longlastingbattery sorry man, I don’t date pretty boys!

@AA_Longlastingpower HA! @ChatNoir_Official You got my @ wrong, you butthead! And, FYI, I’d be too much for you man.

@ChatNoir_Official Too right! I don’t do high maintenance models! @AA_Longlastingbattery sorry man.

@AA_Longlastingbattery @ChatNoir_Official Hey dude! No worries man! Big fan right here!

@ChatNoir_Official Now… back to the matter at hand. Me and M’Lady are just very close friends.

@LadyandtheStray Ha! Look at @ChatNoir_Official trying to hide his relationship with Ladybug. ‘Very close friends’. That’s so sweet. You just know he’s the one who Ladybug ended up with each time she went on a date.

@Ladyisabug @LadyandtheStray you’re so right! She’s ditched her date to meet up with her Kitty. Epic fail on hiding your relationship @ChatNoir_Official!

@CN_fan_62 Do you think they’ll have a summer wedding or winter? I can imagine Chat Noir wanting a white suit so I’m voting for the winter theme.

PM

To: @(Un)LuckyLady🐞 CC: @TheLadyblogger

From: @ChatNoir_Official

Once again, I am sorry!

I’ll contact Nadja Chamack for an interview to get a retraction. Once again I apologise, please don’t throw me in the bin.

Your very, very sorry, Kitty Cat.

😿

@TheLadyblogger has closed commenting on this post.

PM

To: @ChatNoir_Official CC: @TheLadyblogger

From: @(Un)LuckyLady🐞

You’re very lucky you're cute!

PM

To: @(Un)LuckyLady🐞 CC: @TheLadyblogger

From: @ChatNoir_Official

Ooooo, you called me cute! Maybe I won’t make a statement after all.

PM

To: @ChatNoir_Official CC: @TheLadyblogger

From: @(Un)LuckyLady🐞

CHAT NOIR!!!!!!! 😡

BREAKING NEWS: CHAT NOIR RELEASES A STATEMENT THAT HIMSELF AND LADYBUG ARE NOT AN ITEM, AND THAT HIS WORDS HAVE BEEN TAKEN OUT OF CONTEXT.

AS A RESULT CHAT NOIR WILL NO LONGER BE ACTIVE ON THE LADYBLOG.

HE ALSO GAVE A STATEMENT DENYING ANY POSSIBLE ROMANCE WITH MODEL, ADRIEN AGRESTE.

Marinette rubbed her forehead as she gathered her gym gear together and placed it into her backpack. Checking her blog comments one last time she powered down her phone and threw it into the bag.

Chat Noir was a constant pain in her butt – and apparently her head too. Even when he tried to help, he could still make a colossal mess of a situation and at the moment his actions needed to be the least of her worries. She was doing a grand job of messing things up herself – thank you very much. She didn’t need her superpartners help. She had this one on her own.

Zipping her bag, she prepared for her first class in almost a week. After the events of the wedding, her face had taken three days and a trip to the emergency room to sort out. Apparently allergic reactions didn’t just go away, and now she had to make sure she had in date medication, plus an epi pen, with her at all times. Evidently she was still very much allergic to shellfish.

Adrien had been around twice. The first time to bring her coffee and chocolate treats, and the second time to bring around Misery; as much as she enjoyed her time snuggled up with Adrien and burying her head into his fragrant clothing, the movie 100 percent needed to stay away from her in the future. She completely saw the appeal of putting the disc in the freezer.

She had to admit the story was good, excellent in fact; however, a good story and her enjoying it were two completely separate things. Adrien hadn’t been allowed to leave that night until Alya had returned and, in result, Alya had banned Adrien from choosing movies to watch alone with Marinette in the future, something he retorted with ‘I’ll just stay here next time’. The fact they had no spare bed not worrying him in the slightest as he announced that he’d just stay with Marinette in hers. Luckily she was sitting down, because she was quite sure she would have collapsed.

“You ready?” Alya walked out of her room in a sports bra and leggings, her bag slung over one shoulder as she headed in the direction of the fridge.

“I am, but I think you forgot to wear clothing.”

Alya laughed, swinging her bag down on the counter and reaching for her sweatshirt off the clean washing pile; slipping it on then grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“If you’ve got it… flaunt it!” She winked at Marinette before continuing to check she had everything she needed in her bag.

The gym was having a special introductory night where each member had a guest pass to invite a friend. Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t have a choice as once Alya had found out she could get get into the gym and peruse the man, she had taken the pass without hesitation, convincing Marinette that she needed to be there to help her sort out her next date; in other words, she wanted to spy on Frederick — she just wouldn’t admit it.

“Just think, we could get you a date tonight with Chat Noir. You can write your next blog about how you found your partner and fell head over heels, it would blow… it... up!”

And there it was!

Marinette eyed her friend, her jaw clenched. She had to be kidding. He’d literally just filed a retraction on the blog and gone out his way to contact Nadja for an in person interview at TVi. Chat Noir was out of the equation. Plus the fact that he now had someone else and she had Adrien… Well, maybe she had Adrien.

Though he hadn’t exactly asked her out on a date, he had made himself as clingy as a limpet. Not that she minded it — certainly not. If anything it was the opposite. She was being reliant on him; texting him first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

“I don’t think so, Alya. If Ladybug happened to date Chat Noir, there would not be a chance in hell it could be published. You saw what happened with Chat’s comments earlier, everyone went crazy.”

“Pfft!” Alya waved her arm in Marinette’s general direction. “Please! You two getting together would be the greatest thing to ever happen in Paris.”

Marinette moved to the door and grabbed her coat from the peg, Alya following after. It seemed her friend had now decided the blog's ratings were more important than her need for a romantic partner. The feeling caused her stomach to unsettle.

“Why are you actually coming with me tonight?” Marinette asked, moving her hair from under her collar and grabbing Adrien’s scarf. She still hadn’t given it back, and with Adrien’s personal smell still so embedded into the fabric, she wasn’t too sure its rightful owner would be wearing it again anytime soon.

“I told you, I want to meet Frederick and you know I can’t pass up a bit of Zumba.”

“Adrien will be there tonight too,” Marinette said nonchalantly, peering to the side and looking to see her friend’s reaction.

Where usually Alya would have something to say about the fact Adrien Agreste would be in the same vicinity as Marinette, it seemed tonight there was nothing. Not a care in the world.

“It’ll be good to see him again.”

With that, Alya swung her bag over her shoulder and made her way out the door leaving Marinette silent and stunned in the hallway.

“Hey girls.” Adrien waved and walked over to where Marinette was standing with Alya. She could feel her cheeks heat as he moved closer. Not only had he been extra attentive since the wedding but he’d also been in frequent communication with her and, if she wasn’t mistaken, she believed he was beginning to see her in a different light.

He high fived Alya in their usual routine before moving to Marinette and placing one hand on her hip moving her closer into his body. Leaning down, he placed a delicate kiss on her cheek, one she was quite sure had lingered a little longer than necessary.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft and gentle, caressing her like honey trailing down her throat. It was soothing, warming and settling all at the same time. She wanted more.

“I’m a lot better, thank you. How are you?” she responded, smiling up at him.

“I’m great. Listen, Marinette, would I be able to –”

“Awww, Marinette, so good to see you. I’ve missed you the past couple of sessions. I didn’t know what to do with myself without my star student around.” Frederick entered the room in a fashion suitable for a Prince. His arms stretched out as though fanfares had sounded upon his arrival, all he needed was an elephant and a blue Genie and she would have believed she was in a remake of Aladdin.

Coming to stand beside him, Marinette couldn’t help but notice the look he gave Adrien. A glare of challenge.

“Oh, Frederick, hello. How are you?” Marinette cringed as he moved forward and placed a kiss on each of her cheeks, a wet residue left in its wake and taking over the tingling left from Adrien.

“Great, now I get to see you again. And who is this foxy lady?”

Marinette heard her friend gasp and knew full well it was to do with his choice of words.

Foxy lady?

She internally mused that it was nothing more than a lucky guess… it couldn’t be right? After all, nobody knew the identities of the other holders and there’s no way he could have guessed it… if he was Chat Noir that is.

“Oh, hi! You must be Frederick. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Alya stretched out to exchange a la Bise with the Swedish instructor as Marinette looked over at Adrien.

A defensive stance took over his body. Arms folded and eyes threatening. He suddenly turned to look at her, dropping the tough guy pose for one a lot more favourable. Was he jealous?

Not wanting Adrien to take Alya’s words out of context, she quickly shook her head praying he understood the action meant ‘no I haven’t’.

“I hope it’s all good things, I’d hate for her not to think I’m purrfect.”

“Oh, please,” Adrien groaned, rolling his eyes and moving around him to Marinette’s side. “If he’s going to pun,” Adrien said through the side of his mouth, aiming for Marinette’s ears only. “He could at least be a little more original.”

Marinette snickered alongside him, both acting like naughty school kids as Alya quizzed and probed Frederick; the two moving slightly to one side.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” Marinette looked at Adrien, finally taking in what he was wearing and almost spontaneously combusting on the spot. He was decked out in her colours, and when she said her colours she didn’t mean pink and white; oh no, Adrien Agreste was fully coated in red and black — her Ladybug colours.

“I was wondering if maybe you were –”

“Marinette!” He was interrupted again and Marinette was ready to strangle Alya, who had now grabbed her arm and was leading her in a different direction. “Sorry, Adrien, I just need a moment with this lovely lady.”

‘I’m sorry,’ Marinette mouthed, looking over her shoulder at the handsome blond as Alya dragged her away. Adrien’s lips lifted at one side as he shrugged in understanding.

“What are you doing?” Marinette hissed once they were out of earshot of the guys. She took a quick look over her shoulder, noticing Frederick was talking to Adrien; the tension between the two of them was obvious as they stood arms crossed and chests puffed. What were they talking about?

“Listen Marinette, I am about 80 percent sure Frederick is Chat Noir.” Alya’s voice lowered to an almost whisper.

“And?” Marinette said back.

“And you said if we find someone who we think might be Chat Noir you’d date him.”

“I did, but I don’t think 80 percent is enough to say he might be Chat Noir. Plus, what about Adrien?” Marinette looked over her shoulder again, Adrien and Frederick now in an intense conversation; their heads lowered in the direction of the other.

“Don’t deny it now, Marinette, you promised. You can’t just take it back, you’re not that type of person.”

Tensing her jaw, Marinette stopped herself from saying anything. She couldn’t believe Alya was holding that over her.

“I don’t –”

Alya huffed, crossing her arms and looking away. “Whatever,” she said. “Do whatever you think is best.” Without saying another word Alya walked away from her and towards the guys; leaving a stunned and bewildered Marinette.

She couldn’t believe her friend would act that way. Wasn’t she doing enough just by posting the blog in the first place? Also, Alya knew exactly what was happening with Adrien shouldn’t she be supporting that relationship instead of pushing her towards another?

Closing her eyes, Marinette took a deep breath and counted backwards from 10.

Dating Frederick was not an option even if he did have the exact height and colourings of Chat Noir — and made horrific puns. If she was going off that as a specification wouldn’t Adrien be a possible ‘Chat Noir’ as well? He was tall and fair, complete with a horrible taste in humour. Maybe she could hint that to Alya, that way she could just continue to date/not date Adrien.

“Okay,” Frederick said, clapping his hands together and moving to the front of the studio. He grabbed the headset and placed it over his ears, the microphone positioned perfectly in front of his mouth.

“Are we all ready?” Boomed from the speakers, his shoulders in an easy warm up.

Marinette headed to stand in between Alya and Adrien. “Frederick’s a Zumba instructor too?” she gasped, watching as he began the music and started moving from left to right.

“It looks like it,” Adrien replied, following the movements seamlessly.

“Oh, look at you Buttercup, I didn’t realise you had these kinds of moves in you, I thought you would be all prim and proper.” Alya was squinting so hard Marinette thought a blood vessel was going to burst in her head. She looked between her feet and Frederick, and Marinette couldn’t help as a small chuckle left her lips. Not that she was faring any better.

Marinette’s tongue was poking through her lips as she recited the steps in her head – step, together, hip roll, step, together, hip roll.

“Need some help?” Adrien asked, moving behind her and placing his hands on her hips.

‘Yes please.’

He laughed in her ear and she realised she’d spoken out loud, which was the extent of her mortification… until she stamped on Adrien’s foot.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at him over her shoulder.

“It’s fine,” he laughed, “you weigh nothing.”

They continued to move as one. Adrien’s warm hands held her firmly as he counted and laughed in her ear. It was like a Zumba dream come true, until they were interrupted by a shadow looming over them.

“Ladies and gentleman, we seem to have a professional with us tonight.”

Marinette looked up from where her head was studying her feet. Frederick was staring straight at Adrien, the look not something she would have considered as friendly.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Agreste.” The challenge in the phrase was unquestionable leaving no option for Adrien to back down.

Frederick began to clap his hands in time with the music, moving around the room and pushing everyone back.

“You don’t have to do this,” Marinette said, turning around to look up at her friend. Adrien smirked and moved his head close to her ear.

“Trust me,” he replied with a wink. He centred himself in the dance floor, moving forwards to where Frederick was already performing a perfected routine before joining in effortlessly.

Marinette moved back to the sidelines and situated herself next to Alya; her eyes were trained on the two blonds wiggling and thrusting their hips in time to the music. Chewing down hard on her thumb nail for comfort, Marinette panicked that something was about to go horrendously wrong. Adrien didn’t need to do this. He had nothing to prove.

The two continued dancing around, the crowd cheering them on and clapping along to the music as Frederick pushed Adrien on and on. It seemed this had changed from a taster Zumba class to the final of France’s Got Talent. Frederick began to go out of routine, pulling out harder movements, as he twisted and turned like a breakdancer; Adrien, surprisingly, mirroring the actions perfectly beside him.

It grew more and more heated, Marinette’s tension increasing with each movement before finally snapping as Frederick pulled out a back tuck on the spot.

Adrien needed to stop this now! There was no way he could match that. However, he moved backwards, determination in his eyes which sent fear down her spine. What the hell was he about to do? As he bounded forward and completed a double front flip, he landed perfectly with his arms out and the celebratory cheer.

Everyone screamed and clapped, chanting Adrien’s names time and time again, yet Marinette couldn’t take her eyes off Frederick, he looked angry… actually no, seething would sum it up better — teeth clenched and a hiss pushing through. People began to move from the studio, Adrien’s final move the talk of the class. Frederick began to clear up his equipment, trailing after them with his tail between his legs — Adrien still standing in his spot.

“Geez, Adrien, where have you been hiding skills like that?” Alya moved first, heading to their blond gymnast and congratulating him, Marinette following behind.

“Oh, you know, just a party trick.” His teeth were clenched together, his face slightly pale and tiny trails of sweat running down his face.

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked, walking in front of him. He nodded, stucking his lips in and closing his eyes. “Need me to help you home?” she continued.

Adrien nodded again, finally opening his eyes and allowing them both to see his pain.

Chapter Text

Leading Adrien into his building was quite a challenge without the additional strength of her super suit. He wasn’t exactly a small guy, and his height just made it all the more difficult. The temptation to transform into Ladybug and scoop him in her arms was overwhelming, and only the thought of Chat Noir finding out stopped her from going through with the plan. She’d never upset her partner in that way again. The next and only person to find out who she was would be him — without a doubt.

After the wonderful display of Brazil hip swinging and top class break dancing, Adrien had stumbled into the locker room to grab his items from his locker, exiting out like an old Granny with a false hip. If Marinette wasn’t so worried, she would have laughed. Instead, she stepped up as Adrien’s girlfriend/not girlfriend and walked him out of there. His ridiculously heavy gym bag balancing over one shoulder, her arm supporting him with the other.

Adrien attempted to move, sounding like a wild banshee as he twisted to the side. “Could you grab my keys from my back pocket please?”

“Ass pocket? I mean — back pocket? You want my hand on your butt, back… my hand on your back?”

Adrien chuckled which abruptly turned into a groan. “This really hurts!”

Marinette couldn’t help the giggle that passed through her lips. He really had over done it, his head to head with Frederick ending with him injured and now being manhandled into his apartment by a woman half his size. “You could have stopped, you know? You didn’t have to keep going.”

“Of course I did,” he stopped, causing Marinette to abruptly stop beside him. “I couldn’t let the Lady think so lowly of me.”

Her heart flipped and she wasn’t sure whether it was Adrien’s obvious flirting or the use of Chat Noir’s term of endearment for her. Her stomach felt like a cheap washing machine, one about to short circuit and crash. Just like her brain.

She chuckled and moved her hand behind him aiming to grab the keys from his lower back pocket as instructed. “I’d never think lowly of you, Adrien, I thought you would have known that by now.”

Marinette continued to search for the keys, her palm very much in an area that made her hand twitch. If she just… no! She needed to keep her head clear. Adrien was injured and she was the one who was going to get him to the safety of his apartment. Squeezing his butt was not part of this plan.

“I know you wouldn’t, but if you could stop groping my ass and get the keys out that would be very much appreciated.”

With a little squeak, Marinette removed her hand from his back pocket, keys dangling from her fingers. “Sorry,” she said, her face the shade of red only seen in the centre of a volcano, the heat matching too. Obviously the over thinking had directed her hand to move, her subconsciousness wanting her to grab a feel and her fingers complying… How barbaric!

“It’s okay,” he said. His face attempted to morph into a smile. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

His off handed remark had her melting on the spot. She was sure he was trying to kill her.

Adrien directed Marinette to the elevator, pressing the button and leaning over her for balance as they waited.

“Thank you,” Adrien said, looking down to Marinette. “You didn’t need to do this, but I’m not going to lie, I’m really happy you’re here with me right now.”

She pulled up her big girl panties (metaphorically, of course) and decided to — just for once — be in control of her situation with Adrien. It was so blatantly obvious he was flirting with her and she’d been waiting years for this to happen. Grasping on with both hands, she attempted to stop the full body quiver and consider her next move…

“Are you trying to get a massage off me?” She looked up to him, attempting to raise one eyebrow and entice him into the conversation. She wanted him to flirt back, she wanted him to confirm that she wasn’t imagining things and that he had taken a liking to her.

“Maybe. Although, now we’re on the conversation, I would like to know what I need to do to make sure that happens. I’m feeling sore, and knowing how good you are at crafting with your hands, I’m sure they could do just the job.”

And just like that… every blood vessel in Marinette’s face threatened to explode. She was now 100% sure he was flirting with her and from what she could gather, he was enjoying her flirting with him. As she prepared to say something undeniably witty, yet sexy, the sound of the elevator doors opening stopped her in her tracks. The ding was the biggest mood killer she’d ever known, the high pitched noise killing the mood more than video killed the radio star.

With a little cough, Marinette encouraged Adrien to move once more, taking them both into the elevator.

“What floor?” Her voice came out reminiscent of a chipmunk, with a quick cough and a lick of her lips she attempted again. “What floor?” She sounded like a butch old man this time, someone Marinette was certain Adrien wouldn’t want massaging him.

“Are you okay? Let’s get you upstairs and to a glass of water. I completely forgot to check you were okay in all the madness. You should have said. We could have stopped on the way back here.” There he was again, Mr Perfect Adrien Agreste. Self sacrificial at any opportunity.

She shook her head. Looking at him and letting a slow and steady smile stretch her lips. “I’m fine. Just something stuck in my throat.”

Quite sure the action hadn’t met her eyes, she took the opportunity to move towards the buttons, keeping her eyes placed somewhere that wasn’t Adrien Agreste. “Which floor?” she asked again, her hand stretching out towards the dull buttons just waiting to be lit.

“Oh, um, four.” Adrien’s stutter was out of character for such a charismatic guy.

Peering over her shoulder, she noticed his cheeks had turned a precious pink and his own eyes were looking up at the numbers as they began to flicker with the movement of the shaft.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” Adrien moved his arm from her shoulders, a hiss of pain leaving his lips as he backed up towards the back wall.

Without a moment's hesitation, she stepped towards him and looped an arm around his waist. She wanted to be here with him – for him – and she was going to make sure he understood that. “I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re comfortable.”

Using her other hand, she grabbed his arm once more and laid it over her shoulders. She looked up to Adrien and smiled, wanting him to know she was here and she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure there are better things for you to be doing than taking care of a 19 year old wannabe gymnast..”

“Adrien, stop,” she giggled, “It’s fine. I like being with you and I want to help you. So, let’s get you into your apartment, lay you down and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, Marinette.”

Looking into his eyes, her arm pulled him that little bit closer to her as she was swept up into the moment — and into him. She could feel herself stretch up onto her toes, her lips aiming for his smooth cheek as she pressed a gentle kiss against his skin. Her eyes closed as she moved back down onto her toes.

Marinette could feel the intense beating of her heart in her throat, her stomach twisting into intricate knots as she considered what might happen once they escape the confines of the elevator. The atmosphere was thick with unlabelled tension, a tension Marinette was sure would break her if not relieved.

“Who said I couldn’t keep it?” Her new found confidence filled her with joy, his widening eyes only adding to the intense feeling in her heart.

Adrien’s smile combined perfectly with the sparkling mischief in his eyes, a brightness so wonderful she wanted to bottle it up and sell it. She could feel herself pushing up onto her toes, Adrien bending slightly and she knew his main aim was for her lips.

“Owwww!” Adrien’s groan shattered the tension, the intense desire to kiss him being broken by the signal of pain and putting her priorities back in order. She didn’t want her first kiss with Adrien to be linked to severe pain. It needed to be romantic and heartfelt… and preferably not in a public elevator.

She lowered back down onto her heels and repositioned herself to make sure she was supporting Adrien. She looked at his face, watching as he screwed his eyes shut and took deep, slow breaths – each aiming to fill his lungs with air and push past the pain. Marinette glanced up, catching the elevator move from level 3 to 4 and prepared them for the doors to open.

She spun the keys around her finger, catching them in her palm before looking at her friend. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Can you carry me?” he said, opening one eye to look at her. “It’s really painful to walk.”

“I don’t think so, Adrien,” Marinette laughed, guiding him out and along the corridor. “What number?” she asked, looking to the left and the right as she waited for his answer.

“467,” he responded, his words coming out stained and tense. An exact match to his body.

She turned them to the left and began to walk slowly, Adrien’s arm remaining around her neck as she supported his waist and moved down the corridor at a slow and steady pace.

The building was beautiful. The walls were bare brick with artwork scattered sporadically; the steampunk lighting and doors only added to the overall eye-catching aesthetics of the building.

“This is gorgeous.” Her voice came out breathy and inspired, her eyes not being able to catch enough of a glimpse.

“I was pretty fond of it. My father, of course, was not.”

Marinette couldn’t control the snicker that left her lips as Adrien brought up his father. “How is the big, bad boss man?”

“Still big and bad; though, now that comes complete with pancakes.”

“Plain?” she questioned, knowing full well Gabriel Agreste had no idea how his son liked his pancakes.

Adrien laughed, stopping Marinette in front of his doorway and taking the keys out of her hand. “I think we’ve been through every fruit now. He also tried making them savoury and, believe it or not, with Nutella.”

“Nutella?” Marinette gasped in shock. “Sacrilege!”

The door opened and Adrien handed the keys back to Marinette, pushing the door open and leading them both inside.

…and if Marinette thought the building was impressive, it had nothing on Adrien’s apartment. As clean cut and modern Adrien was from his time spent modelling, his apartment was rustic and homely. The high, bare walls were decorated with film and album posters, including a framed copy of the CD she’d signed for him all those years ago.

Photographs of Adrien and his friends spread along the walls. Pictures of him with Kagami, Kitty Section, the gang and even ones of just him and her.

The kitchen looked well used and loved too, the breakfast bar hosting an array of different fruits and a singular place set out for dining. It was wonderful, yet at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder if Adrien felt lonely.

He’d been cooped up in the mansion for most of his life, and even though there was his father, Nathalie and Gorilla nearby he’d pretty much lived alone. Marinette couldn't help but wonder if Adrien would prefer someone else to be here with him. Someone to share housework with, to greet him when he returned home from university, someone to vent to and watch crappy movies with. Someone like…

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked, drawing Marinette’s attention away from the apartment and towards the man standing beside her, the man who didn’t deserve to spend any more time alone.

She needed to tell him. To let him know, tonight, that she was here and she wanted to be a prominent person in his life; someone he could share his time and memories with. She was disappointed with herself for not visiting him here sooner.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This place is lovely.”

“So you said,” Adrien laughed, the noise turning from one of joy to one of pain.

“Come on superstar,” Marinette giggled, “let’s get you into the bath.”

“Is this pay back from when I saw you last week?”

“I wasn’t going to — I mean I wouldn’t say I didn’t want to see — Phew — is it getting hot in here?” Marinette stuttered, her face heating up with the implications of what Adrien might have meant and the idea of what he was hinting at. She used her hands to fan her face before pulling herself back together and putting all her attention in the job at hand.

Adrien in the bath… naked!

Her face once again exploded with the perfect complexion for a fire engine. Making sure he didn’t catch wind of her obvious embarrassment, she hooked his arm over her shoulders once more and led him to the sofa; her face keeping clear of his eyeline.

“So,” she began, helping him to sit down on one of the lazy boys, one where she couldn’t sit beside him, because if she hit that proximity at this precise moment there would be no turning back.

“Is the bath in your bedroom?” she asked, only to want to shrivel up at mentioning that specific room. Adrien’s bedroom. She didn’t know how she would stand if she had to enter there… though a slight plaguing in the back of her mind told her she wouldn’t ever want to come back out.

“No, it’s just a shower in the en-suite, the bath is down the hall.”

“I’ll be right back.” She stood up in a hurry and scooted herself down the hall in search for the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her when she’d located the room. Slamming her back against the door, she let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

She was doing this to help her friend.

Her friend who she loved… in more than a friendly way. Dammit! Time and time again Adrien Agreste just welcomed himself in and stole her heart, and being with him here as he was so obviously flirting with her, well, she had no idea how to behave. This was an unknown and scary territory to be in.

She moved forwards, heading for the cupboards and searching through, trying to ignore some of his more personal products as she looked for any type of bath salt. A red blur flew past her and into the cupboard, her little friend returning with a bottle of muscle soak bath salts.

Silently mouthing a thank you to the kwami, Marinette turned her attention to the freestanding bathtub complete with iron claws; leaning over the edge she pushed the plug securely down and turned the taps.

“He literally has everything I want,” Marinette said to Tikki, turning on the bath and pouring in the multi sized , blue rocks.

“Does that include him as well?” Tikki giggled, Marinette turning her head to look at her magical friend.

“I don’t need to answer that.” She dropped Tikki a wink, putting her hand under the water to check the temperature and messing with the facets. She was so tempted to strip herself down and clamber in herself.

Swishing the water around, Marinette was satisfied with the production of bubbles and moved back out the bathroom and into the lounge — snatching a hand towel on the way. She stopped to wipe her hands dry, watching Adrien attempt to get comfortable. His pained eyes met hers with a pathetic attempt at a smile.

“Sorry I’m such a crap host,” he said, groaning as he shifted his weight once more.

Marinette placed the towel on the kitchen counter before walking over to Adrien and helping him sit up. “You might be a rubbish host, but your apartment’s nice so I might make up for your inhospitably by having a nosey around when you’re in the bath.”

“You’re not going home then?” he asked, a wistful look in his eyes.

“Nope,” she said, “I’m going to be your knight in shining armour and make sure you get to bed safely and comfortably.” A sudden flash back to Marc and Nathaniel’s story from years ago played in her mind. She’d have to let them know that she had finally rescued the damsel in distress; though not quite in the way they had all expected.

“Well, help yourself to whatever you want.” Adrien smiled and she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d say if she asked for him?

“Thanks, now let’s get you into the bathroom.” She wrapped his arm around his shoulders and stood him up, moving him in the direction she’d just come from.

“I think if you’re going to flirt with me, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I think you’ll find it’s the bedroom you should want to take me to.”

“Come on Casanova,” she laughed, “you can flirt once your muscles are relaxed.”

Adrien chuckled, taking steps slowly one at a time. “Is that an invitation to make a move when I get out of the bath?” he asked, the humour in his voice sandwiching the seriousness of the conversation.

“One thing at a time, Adrien.” Her heart was racing as she led him towards the bathroom, this was getting far too real, far too fast.

Opening the bathroom door she led him in. “I’ll just hang around in the lounge in case you need me.” Watching your 60 inch 4K tv, she thought, just imagining how amazing Finding Nemo would look on it.

“Okay.” He smiled back, reaching out to grab her hand before she could exit. “Thank you,” he said again, his eyes glittering with gratefulness, “it really means a lot, you being here.” He let go, the smile remaining on his face as she joined in with her own.

“You’re welcome.” She turned away and stepped over the threshold, Adrien calling her back once more.

“Oh, and one more thing. If you want to, you could always use the shower in my room. There’s spare towels in the closet and I have some sweats in my drawers if you want to borrow anything. Like I said, help yourself to whatever you want.” He closed the door, his smile never leaving his lips as his eyes never left hers. A fluttering, fuzzy, warm feeling engulfed her body, latching onto her with a vice-like grip.

In a daze, she made her way back through the main living area and in the direction of Adrien’s room. He hadn’t given her a grand tour, but considering there were only two doors off the open plan living space — one being the room she’d just left — she was quite certain that’s where this door would open up to.

Marinette took a deep breath and placed her hand on the chrome door handle. This was it. In the next three seconds she would be fulfilling one of her teenage fantasies — to be freely invited into Adrien Agreste’s bedroom. Although, circumstances in her developing teenage brain were a lot different to just popping in to use his shower. It included heated make-outs and… well… she was a developing teenage girl with a rather impressive crush.

Pressing down, the handle clicked and the door opened; Marinette Dupain-Cheng was about to enter no man’s land.

Stepping in gradually, Tikki flew in front of her and found the light stitch, turning it on and igniting the room. Marinette looked around and, in all honesty, she was quite impressed. The room was clean and rustic, nothing at all like she’d expected. It was worn and lived in, and the more she looked around the more she could see Adrien. His colours, his life, his memories. She turned around to close the door only then noticing what was on the opposite side of the lounge.

Before making herself comfortable, in what she guessed would be the best shower of her life, she walked back out and towards where Adrien’s piano stood. Walking past it she dragged her fingers across the keys, being careful not to press too hard and cause them to play. She hadn’t heard Adrien play as often as she would have liked, each time being cut short thanks to an akuma or hotel employees. She noticed how some of the keys were well worn, Adrien obviously having a favourite song to play as he sat and relaxed. He really was such an incredibly talented man, one she would be lucky to have by her side.

Continuing on her way, she finally came face-to-face with the statue — one that looked like it had come from the clearance section at IKEA. She made a note to question him about it later, this did not at all go with the decor of the room or Adrien’s personality. It must have been a gift from Gabriel.

Walking back to the bedroom, she sent Tikki into his draws to find the correct one containing his sweats before opening it up and taking out a tee and some sweatpants. She was quite sure, with Adrien’s height and build, this wasn’t going to fit properly, but the thought of wearing Adrien’s clothing was more exciting than defeating an akuma. She lifted the items to her nose and took a deep sniff. Adrien… all Adrien.

Making her way into the ensuite, again, she was intimidated by having so much of him around her. All his little bits and pieces lay neatly around the sink and shower. His cologne, his razor and shaving foam, his body wash and soap, his towel…

Locking the door behind her, she peeled off her clothing and turned the shower on, the overhead square rain shower firing out the perfect pressure.

Oh, yes! She was right. Now she was here, she never wanted to leave.

Chapter Text

The shower had been wonderful and Marinette was quite sure she’d spent a lot longer in there than needed. Not only had she taken advantage of his overhead rain shower, she’d also taken advantage of his shampoo, conditioner and body wash. The smell of Adrien was now well and truly coated her body, assaulting her senses in the most delectable of ways.

Stepping out of the shower, she covered her body in the fluffiest bath towel she’d ever seen; as the material rubbed against her skin, she felt as though she was being hugged by a rather squishy teddy bear. She made a mental note to ask Adrien where he got his towels from, each one would probably cost a month of her rent but she wouldn’t deny the value in owning such tiny pieces of heaven.

Drying herself off, Marinette looked around for Tikki only to find that the kwami was nowhere to be seen. Where had that little terror got to?

Trying not to panic too much about Adrien spotting the small red bug, she hurried to dry and go search. Throwing on Adrien’s clothing she stopped as her reflection looked back at her in the mirror with a mocking expression. A Kitty Section tee — why the hell had she chosen that? Not wanting to be massaging her crush whilst wearing a tee with her ex-boyfriend’s face on, she pulled it off and threw it to one side.

Looking around, she found her bralette top and placed it on before continuing her after shower routine; searching for a hairbrush. The bottoms hung from her hips as she attempted to pull them in tighter and regain some of her dignity; however, the fact she was literally in a bra didn’t seem to phase her too much; he’d seen her at the gym in tops equally revealing quite frequently so this shouldn’t really faze her.

She moved through the cupboards, finally finding a hairbrush and letting out a laugh; a Ladybug exclusive Tangle Teezer. A warmth flooded through her as she imagined Adrien buying such an item and using it daily. Her mask cover face flashing him her promotional smile as he’d comb through his luscious blond locks, almost as though it was her finger combing through his hair. She thought it was a stupid idea at the time, Chat being the driving force to make it happen, but now she couldn’t have been more grateful. She owed him an extra special birthday gift.

Marinette took the brush to her hair and began to comb through it, glad it had been created to be kind on her hair, as the length began to untangle and stretch over her shoulders. It had grown so much recently. Continuing to brush through the knots, she studied the bathroom set up; the lonely toothbrush and toothpaste on the side. Once again, she couldn’t help but think his toiletries needed a friend. Preferably pink. Preferably hers.

She placed the hairbrush back in the drawer where she’d found it before going on a search for the hairdryer, wanting to give herself a quick blow dry so when she finally rekindled with Adrien she didn’t leave the ensuite looking like a drowned rat.

“Marinette,” a small voice sounded from the doorway, Marinette creeping over and opening it a crack; Tikki hovered, floating in midair holding her makeup bag.

“Thank you,” she whispered to her small friend, taking the bag and heading towards the mirror once again. Bronzer, blush, eye shadow, mascara – and not forgetting her precious, pink lip gloss.

A couple of minutes later, Marinette was ready to exit the bathroom and come face-to-face once more with Adrien. She looked herself over in the mirror, happy with how she looked. Afterall, Adrien called her beautiful even when her face was covered in hives, so hopefully this would blow his socks off.

Stepping to the door of the ensuite, she grasped the handle and prepared to flirt her way into Adrien’s heart. This was it! It had to be! The setup was perfect, and it just seemed right. Pulling open the door and she found Adrien lying on his bed, only a towel wrapped around his waist as his face was buried in the sheets. Had he crawled his way here? Suddenly her romantic visions of Adrien serenading her were changed to that of Adrien crawling around like the woman out of the ring.

“Adrien,” Marinette announced, fear coming through in her tone. She rushed forward, almost leaping onto the bed beside him only to be met by Adrien’s groan.

“Adrien, should I call an ambulance? Are you okay?” Her heart was racing more than during her showdowns with Monarch. “Adrien,” she almost screamed. “Answer me!”

“I hurt.” His voice was muffled by the fabric currently absorbing his face.

“Oh, thank goodness. You’re alive.”

He rolled his head to the side, his eyebrows frowning. “Of course I am, I’ve only pulled a muscle, Marinette.” He chuckled before groaning again, burying his face back into the bed.

“Just wait here,” Marinette demanded as she leaped leaped down and headed back towards the ensuite. “I’ll be right back.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” he chuckled, quickly following it up with a huff and puff.

She made her way back into the en-suite, looking for a bottle of moisturiser she’d seen on her search for a hairbrush. It may not have been as good as oil, but she hoped it would be better than nothing. He was in serious pain and she wanted to try and help the best she could.

Pushing bottles of random items out the way, Marinette found what she wanted and headed back to the bedroom. Adrien still firmly face down and his legs hanging over the side of his bed. It all looked quite comical, until he groaned again.

“Put some bottoms on,” she laughed, walking over towards him, placing the moisturiser down by his head. She continued around to his drawers, locating the one she had taken the sweats from earlier and grabbed another pair.

“Here.” She threw them towards the bed, the bottoms landing squarely on Adrien’s head and causing him to moan once more. She giggled in response, moving out of the room and heading towards the kitchen, turning back to shout to Adrien. “I’ll just grab you some pain killers and some water.”

She sauntered out of the room, keeping herself together as much as possible until she was certain she was clear and collapsed against the worktop.

“Marinette?” Tikki flew closer, appearing on Marinette’s shoulder with a worried frown on her face. “Are you okay?”

Marinette started to giggle before it progressed into a fully blown laugh. She’d offered Adrien Agreste a massage as he lay on his bed in just a towel. She turned around allowing her back to collide with the cold workstation and glide slowly down to the floor, burying her head in her arms.

“He’s topless, and I’m going to massage him.” Her words came out in between the laughter. She couldn’t control herself. It was too much.

“Come on, Marinette, pull yourself together.”

She looked into the dazzling blues of her kwami and started laughing again. “What the hell is wrong with me, Tikki? I’m a mess!”

“You’re just in love,” Tikki responded. Marinette grabbed the floating bug from midair and brought her to her cheek, nuzzling with kwami with love and adoration.

Finally, getting a hold on herself, Marinette stood up and reached for a glass. Filling it with cold water and grabbing the half empty packet of painkillers from his cupboard. She walked back towards the bedroom pausing just before she entered the room and taking a deep breath. It was just Adrien — in joggers, who you’re about to touch… oh, merde!

Opening the door, Adrien was still in the same position, though this time without the towel. Instead, in its place, sat his grey joggers riding low on his hips, his muscular back bare for all to see and, more importantly, for Marinette to touch.

“Adrien?” Marinette asked, he looked so comfortable and his breathing so steady, she was partially worried he’d fallen asleep.

“Hummm?” he mumbled, Marinette moving closer.

“I’ve got you some pain killers. Here!” She handed the water over to him, plus two of the tablets helping him to move around and take them. Once he’d swallowed both down, she took them from him to place on his nightstand. Her heart pounded as the memory of his throat moving seemed to play on repeat in her mind. Now this was new. Were throats meant to be that attractive?

She moved back to the bed and looked down on him, reaching forward and grabbing the bottle of moisturiser. It was now or never.

“Is it okay if I just,” how did she phrase this without sounding like she wanted to mount him? “If I straddle your hips?” Well done, Marinette! A slow clap echoed in her mind, blocking any way of correcting what she’d just said, her thoughts were too mortified for her to continue talking. Straddle him? What was he a horse or something?

“Sure.” Before she could correct the mistake she made, Adrien had already answered, his voice void of any emotion and stopped her from curling up into a deep hole.

Marinette climbed onto the mattress, placing her legs either side of Adrien’s hips and opened the lid to the moisturiser, squirting some of it directly onto Adrien’s back and causing him to squeal.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, rubbing her hands together and spreading the cream in well trained circles.

Adrien hummed and sighed in relief, his muscles relaxing under her pressure as she continued using her expertise on his back.

“You’re good at this,” he announced, another happy noise escaping his lips and sending shivers down her spine. “Have you had much practise?”

“Oh, yeah! I always get a chance to massage men who show off to impress the crowds. It’s like a side job of mine.” Marinette moved her hands lower down his back, the content sounds coming from Adrien a means to continue.

“I wasn’t showing off,” he grunted, a slight wiggle in his back. “I was just —”

“Showing off,” Marinette cut in. “And just so you know, every female in the vicinity was staring, so your plan worked.”

“Maybe I was showing off, but only for one certain female and I agree it does seem like my plan worked. They’re showering me with care and attention right now.”

Marinette smiled, her heart warming as she realised he was talking about her. When she was with him it was as though the world ceased to exist; that it was just the two of them, sharing their time in the most magical of ways.

Marinette chuckled. “Anyway,” she sidetracked, “to answer your question. I’ve only used the skills on my Papa. I learned because he was having issues with his shoulders from kneading the dough so much. My Maman wasn’t strong enough so I thought it would be a handy skill to have.”

“It’s definitely handy,” Adrien chuckled.

“Did you just pun, M. Agreste?”

“Maybe. It depends if you like them or not?” Adrien was flirting once more, obviously the pain in his back was reliving itself. Smiling, she continued to manipulate his muscles gently, remembering all the details she’d learned from her sports massage class.

“They can be okay… at the right time.”

Adrien chuckled, his muscles suddenly relaxing more under her touch.

“I was wondering, what was going on with you and Frederick. Do you two know each other?” She didn’t want to spoil the mood, but Marinette wanted to know what was going on between Adrien and Frederick. They obviously knew each other, and she was curious as to how.

Adrien sighed. “He has had a bad reputation with female models in the past. I don’t want to sound like I’m just saying this to make him look bad, but I caught him with one of the newer models and let's just say I was her hero that day. He ended up losing his contracts with both Gabriel and Style Queen.”

“Oh,” she said. Her gut instinct had been right, Frederick couldn’t have been Chat Noir.

“He’s had it in for me ever since. But, you’re free to make your own decisions. Just be careful, and don’t fall for his act. You’re worth more than that Marinette, more than someone who’s just looking for adoration he can manipulate and throw away.”

Silence overcame them as Marinette considered each of Adrien’s words carefully. The mood changing and losing the easy going atmosphere that had been created. Her hands continued to work; pressing deeply into his back and shoulders hoping her touch could tell him she was here with him.

“So, how’s the dating going? Been out with anyone else recently?” he asked without warning. Marinette tilted her head, continuing to press her hands into his back.

“No more dates and, to be honest, I’m about ready to give it up now. It’s just not working.” She pushed her hands up and over his bare shoulders, the glorious feel of his muscles underneath doing nothing for her self control.

Yes, Adrien is only wearing joggers! No, he’s not trying to seduce you in that way! Yes, you’re about three seconds away from screaming like an out of control fangirl!

“I don’t know about that,” Adrien replied, Marinette’s hands beginning to slow down as they moved back towards his waist.

“What do you mean?” she asked, curious to where he was going with this.

“Well,” he began, “we technically had a date, worked out together and danced together at a wedding and now you’re here with me where you’ve managed to get me naked. First woman to ever do that since I was a tiny baby.”

She laughed, her hands once again moving melodically over his back. Brushing and pushing the way she had been trained. The image of baby Adrien running away from his Maman — butt naked — a delightful thought.

“Marinette,” Adrien’s voice was light and airy, and she’d almost missed it. He said it again, this time grabbing her attention and causing her to once again slow down the pace of which she was massaging him.

“Hmm?” she asked, her mouth unable to release any coherent words.

“Marinette?” he said again, this time causing her to stop completely.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered to him, a slight hitch in her voice as Adrien twisted around, moving his body enough to have her straddling his lap.

Her heart was in her mouth, she dared not speak; instead, waiting for him to make the next move. To say she’d never been in this position before would have been the truth. This was by far the most intimate moment of her life and she couldn’t help but place herself in the middle of a Sandra Bullock romcom; what was going to happen next? A bird flying into the window and breaking the moment?

“No,” Adrien whispered. “I — um —”

She watched as he gulped. His Adam’s apple bouncing around in the most appealing way and drawing her attention to his rather manly neck for the second time that evening. She was a goner.

His hands remained at his side, obviously giving her the option to move away if she wished, keeping her free to make her own decisions. Fortunately, she didn’t want to, and instead moved her own hands up onto his shoulders, continuing to rub over the tense area and down his biceps, before coming back up towards his neck. She had no idea where this sudden courage was coming from — but being here right now was everything.

“I like you, Marinette — a lot.”

She’d never seen him look so serious. His eyes questioning her next move; a hope and a want, shining through.

She couldn’t help but smile. This was everything she’d wanted since she was 14. “I like you too,” she whispered back, her lips tingling with the need for Adrien’s to meet hers.

In all the years she’d fantasised about this; the years she’d held a torch for him in her heart, she’d never wanted him as much as she did at this moment. Her heart was beating rapidly, trying to break free and get closer to him, to be with him.

Marinette watched as Adrien’s serious expression broke. The smile she so easily paired him with appeared on his face, his eyes sparkling and teeth gleaming. His hands moved, one onto her lower back, edging her closer to his body, the other lightly caressing her spine as his hands brushed up and threaded into her hair. The coolness of his fingertips was a welcome relief to the warmth radiating from her head as he gently started a massage of his own — through her hair.

She closed her eyes, tilting her head backwards and exposing her neck to him like a willing victim to his vampire ways. She’d never thought Adrien could be demonic, but right now he was showing just how devilish he could be as he moved forwards and placed his lips gently against her collar bone; feather light kisses over her skin. Every second felt like pure sin.

“Adrien,” she said, moving her hands into his hair as he continued to place his lips against her skin.

Brushing his nose along her neck, he placed one last kiss under her jaw before moving his head away.

Marinette settled her head back normal — centred on her body — and looked straight into his wonderful, green eyes. His mouth wasn’t smiling anymore, his eyebrows slowly turning down and into a frown.

“I — I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have —”

Looking at him, she was unsure why he was suddenly apologising; she hadn’t given him the indication she didn’t like it? Had she? Shaking her head, she looped her arms around his neck and moved forward. Not an ounce of embarrassment over came her as she moved closer to Adrien in her bralette. If anything she suddenly felt empowered. 

“Yes you should have,” she claimed, smiling widely at him. “Kiss me again.”

They moved together closing the gap and allowing the sweet, softness of each other's lips to feel the contentment and warmth they both craved and deserved. A feeling of completion and togetherness she had never known could come from a kiss.

They continued to move together, lips pressurising against each other in perfect synchronisation. Marinette allowed herself to succumb to the feeling that spiralled in her stomach — the love for Adrien Agreste. She pulled him closer, her fingers settling into his hair and combing the perfect strands of his golden mane as she permitted him to explore his own feelings too.

Adrien pulled away; Marinette in fear that this time she had overstepped the mark.

“As good as this is,” Adrien huffed, “I can’t stay in this position.” He shuffled a little, attempting to move her with him, only to stop. “Nope,” he said, moving again.

“Adrien,” Marinette said, trying to stop him before he put himself in any more danger. “Adrien,” she said again, as a laugh escaped her lips.

“No, it’s okay. I can do this.” He leaned forward again, trying to place a kiss on her lips, instead he ended up growling.

“That’s it,” Marinette said, fighting to get off him and moving off of the bed. “I’m getting you into bed and then leaving.”

She turned to make her way out the kitchen only to stop and quickly turn back, eyes wide and mouth open. “Not into bed, into bed… just into bed, as in take you and put you under the covers — by yourself. Not that I would be against joining you, it’s just you’re in pain and —” She fisted her hands and slammed them over her eyes. “Just kill me now.”

The sound of Adrien’s laugh had her peeking through her fisted hands. “Not until we’ve had at least one real date.”

“Are you serious about this?” she asked, lowering her hands down from her face and fumbling them in front of her.

She watched as he moved himself backwards and up to rest against the pillows, the soft light of the table lamps making his hair glow in a way she just wanted to caress once more, especially now she’d had a feel up close and personal. His smile attacked her insides and fought against her resolve. She needed to leave. For tonight, it would be better if she just left. Instead, she asked, “About us?”

“Of course I am. Did you not understand what I said? I like you, Marinette, really like you.”

Marinette smiled and moved forward once more, leaning over him and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips — her eyes fluttering closed as she succumbed to his warmth.

Pulling away, his eyes looking like a lost puppy as she made to stand up. “Massage me tomorrow — I mean — message me tomorrow and we’ll work it out.”

Giggling, she moved forward again kissing him onto his nose before pulling back and standing up. If she didn’t leave now she would most likely be here forever.

“I feel like you’re brushing me off,” Adrien said with a sigh. “It’s mean to kiss people like that and then brush them off. ”

She giggled once more before responding. “I’m not brushing you off, Adrien, I just want you to be sure and not on a drug high. Now, settle down; I’ll tuck you in.”

She moved the duvet over him, Adrien giving her a sad smile as she gave him one last kiss on the cheek and moved to his drawers and grabbed a tee, before heading to his doorway.

“Sweet dreams, Adrien.”

If you asked Marinette how she’d made it home that evening, she wouldn’t have been able to tell you because in her recollection of said event, she floated home on a cloud. A big puffy one which was radiant, carefree and dreamy.

Alya watched as Marinette walked into the apartment, her hand to her mouth and in clothing at least three sizes too big. Though she couldn’t see the entirety of Marinette’s mouth, she was quite sure her friend was smiling in a way only seen in romance movies. What had gone on with Adrien? There is no way her friend would have finally confessed, not without giving Alya the heads up first.

“Good night, Marinette?”

“The best,” she sighed, moving her way through the apartment.

“Are you going to post on the blog?” Alya asked, laptop open and waiting for Marinette’s next update to be published.

“Not tonight,” she sounded like Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter and Alya was slightly worried her friend was under some sort of akuma spell.

“But, it’s been days.”

“Then you write it, I’m off to bed.”

Alya watched as Marinette walked past her and the kwamis in complete obliviousness, their eyes never meeting once during the entire exchange. Instead, a delicate hum passed her lips as she proceeded down the hallway and into her room.

Pinching herself Alya looked around to check they were still in reality. When had she entered a Disney movie?

“What’s up with her?” Trixx asked, floating near her holder, the kwami’s face a mirror of her own.

Alya remained staring at Marinette’s now closed door.

Adrien.

It just had to be Adrien. Maybe he’d told her she was a really special friend again or something?

A sudden chime circulated around the room, pulling Alya to the fact Marinette had left her phone on the counter, nestled in her coat pocket. Intrigue took over as she moved towards the clothing and searched the pockets, finally appearing with Marinette’s phone and checking the ID of the sender.

Frederick.

After the evening's entertainment, Alya had never been more certain of Chat Noir’s identity. He was Marinette’s partner. Frederick was Chat Noir. The over enthusiastic personality, the obvious affection for Marinette, the truly horrific puns; it all just… worked.

The phone buzzed again, this time part of the message displaying itself on the screen.

Hey Mari,

Are you free tomor…

Alya was torn between keeping her nose out of Marinette’s business and diving straight in. She could respond to Frederick as Marinette, after all, her friend did agree to one date with Chat Noir and even if something had happened with Adrien it was only one night, there’s no way they’d be official yet… right?

Curiosity winning out, she opened the message and read through Frederick’s demands.

Dinner.

Tomorrow.

You seem like such a wonderful girl.

Knowing Marinette wouldn’t say no, she responded agreeing to meet him. She had promised one date with Chat Noir and she knew her friend would never go back on a promise. She just couldn’t, it wasn’t Marinette’s style.

The blog had never been more popular, Alya quite sure if it continued at this rate she would be able to retire by Christmas. She’d been asked for interviews, magazine photo shoots and, even, PR work. She was a wanted lady, one that needed Marinette to go on a date with Chat Noir.

Pursing her lips, Alya typed out a quick message with a time and a place; adding Marinette’s trademark ‘xox’ at the end. She placed the phone back into Marinette’s pocket and moved to the laptop, pulling up Ladybug’s account and typing a new blog.

It wasn’t until two hours later that the regret began to sink in.

Moving to the chimes of Marinette’s phone once more, she reached into her friend’s coat pocket and pulled the phone out. But this time it wasn’t Frederick.

Adrien’s name was displayed front and centre and, on the second chime, his message sent a preview.

‘I hope you got home safely, Princess. I can’t wait to see you again…’

Alya felt her blood run cold. She’d well and truly messed up.

Chapter Text

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [6]

Don’t take yourself off the market too soon.

Dear Buginettes,

What can I say? I’m finally getting somewhere and have a date coming up which I believe might be the guy for me; however, should I stop dating because of this or should I make sure I keep myself open to other opportunities?

The answer is quite simple really… keep going for it! No ‘official’ status is a go ahead to kiss more frogs, after all, the physical side of a relationship is just as important as the connection. If the kiss ain’t good, why would you want that? You need those butterflies flying in your stomach and your heart skipping a beat. A kiss is just that… a kiss! You don’t need to think any deeper. You’re just trying before you buy.

Until you’re someone's girlfriend or boyfriend, don’t be afraid to window shop and continue to set up dates.

Ladybug 🐞

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: 2 (-2)

Guy’s numbers: 4

Dates Planned: 2

Dates Completed: 2 (+ a half)

Hits: 46,175

Posted 20 seconds ago

The constant sound of her phone receiving message after message woke Marinette up. Instead of remaining in her dream of kissing Adrien and the feel of his warm masculine body pressed up against hers was broken by the signal of hundreds and seemingly thousands of people she didn’t know commenting on the Ladyblog.

Burying her head deeper into the pillow, she tried to remember when she’d put her phone on loud, after all, everyone knew Marinette rarely had the volume on her phone, especially overnight… nothing was worth an interruption to her well practised sleeping schedule.

Stretching a hand out of the warm cosy duvet, she tapped around on her nightstand attempting to silence the damn thing. Maybe she should have slept with a hammer under her bed — like her father had suggested.

Coming up empty handed, she quickly pulled her arm back under the duvet intending to ignore the tones and get back to her dream; and what a dream it was. She was massaging Adrien as he lay flat against his bed. Flirtatious words floating between them become foreplay for a deep, blood boiling kiss. It seemed so real. The feelings, the smells, the hardness of muscles from hours in the gym. A smile graced her lips as a giggle escaped, a giggle which turned into a gasp as she realised it wasn’t actually a dream.

Shooting up to a sitting position, Marinette almost dived off her bed in the search for her phone. It wasn’t a dream that she’d kissed Adrien last night, it had actually happened. Finally, after five years, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had locked lips with Adrien Agreste — both commiting to the action out of choice, and from the tenderness of her lips whole heartedly.

Marinette swung her legs out of the bed, placing them against the carpet and pushing herself to standing; the chiming of her phone continuing to bleep – message, after message, after message. It seemed to be in the hallway.

“Alya? Is my phone broken?” Marinette shouted, rubbing her eyes with a quick stroke over her lips, her bruised lips. A giggle escaped again. Adrien had done that. Safe, little buttercup Adrien Agreste — if only everyone could have seen him last night.

Marinette spotted her friend holding said object and looking rather dishevelled, almost as though she hadn’t slept last night. Moving forward, Marinette continued into the lounge area and seated herself on the sofa; her eyes fluctuated between her friend and her phone. She knew they had questionable boundaries sometimes, but having her phone? That was something that had never happened before.

“Al? Can I have my phone please? I need to check something.”

As Marinette reached out to take it from her roommate, Alya swiftly held it out of reach, an apologetically frown sent her way. Had she broken it?

“Please, just…” Alya stopped mid sentence, her eyes dropping down to look at the floor. “I’m really sorry, Marinette.”

Handing the phone over to Marinette, the raven haired hero began to scroll down the notifications. Notifications which didn’t seem to be stopping.

“Alya? What did you do?” she asked, her voice shaking as she read some of the replies. She hadn’t posted anything for at least two days, why was it suddenly so popular?

Alya threaded her fingers together in her lap, keeping her head hanging low. “You had a message last night asking you out on a date.”

“Yeah, from Adrien.”

Alya sucked her bottom lip under top teeth, moving it around as she looked as though she was sucking a lemon. A clear sign she’d done something Marinette would not be happy with.

“From Adrien,” she tried again. “Right?”

“Eventually, yes. But not at first.”

Alya wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead all that continued in their silent apartment was the sound of notification after notification.

Marinette set her phone to silent before throwing it against the pillows. “Alya, you better tell me what the hell is going on. What did you do?”

She could feel the anger boiling up inside her, an anger she’d never felt towards Alya before, but right now she was almost hitting boiling point.

Her friend remained looking down on the ground, not even bothering to meet Marinette’s eyeline. Agitation kicked in and Marinette noticed Alya’s laptop open and on the coffee table in front of them.

Reaching forwards, she took the item and placed it on her lap, loading the screen and inputting Alya’s passcode. The device opened up on the Ladyblog. The Ladyblog where Marinette read an article she most certainly did not write. As she began to read down the latest blog post she grew more and more sick to the stomach. How could her friend post something like this? How could Alya have gone behind her back?

“Why?” Marinette demanded. “Why did you do this without asking me, Alya? This doesn’t even sound like me! ‘A kiss is just that… a kiss! You don’t need to think any deeper. You’re just trying before you buy.’ Why would you post this? You’ve only ever kissed one guy in your entire life!”

Marinette’s jaw tightened as she began to scroll through comment after comment, the entire population of Paris excited about the fact Ladybug finally had dates.

“Frederick messaged you last night, and I’m certain he’s Chat Noir, Marinette… and you agreed —”

Freezing mid scroll, Marinette turned her attention to her friend. Her chest heaving and nose flaring.

“I don’t give a shit about what we agreed! You don’t do this, Alya! Did you ever stop to consider what I thought about him? I spend almost every day with Chat Noir, and I’m telling you now it’s not him. Are you really that caught up in your fame and numbers?”

“It’s just —”

“Plus, I kissed Adrien last night,” Marinette interrupted. “We’re pretty much dating now. If he reads this he’s going to think I’m going to do the same. He knows I’m ‘following’ this blog.”

“You’re dating Adrien? Oh my goodness, Marinette, that’s amazing news –”

“Don’t!” She cut her friend off and thrust the laptop into her lap. “Write a retraction right now! I’m not asking Frederick out on a date.”

“That’s the thing… you left your phone out and…” Alya trailed off and Marinette closed her eyes.

Taking a deep breath she slowly counted backwards. This could not be happening. She was finally with Adrien and now it’s all screwed up again — and for once it wasn’t her fault.

“Marinette, I’m so, so sorry.” She could hear the emotion in Alya’s voice, but really she couldn’t care less right now.

“Sorry! I can’t believe you’ve done this! Why can’t you learn to leave things alone? What am I meant to say to Adrien now? I kissed him last night Alya, and it wasn’t just a little experimental kiss, I really kissed him and I really liked it! I’ve waited years for this, I think he has too and now you’ve messed it all up.”

She glared at Alya, watching as her friend's face paled.

“I’ll just text Frederick back and tell him it was a mistake,” Alya said with shaky words.

She went to grab Marinette’s phone only for the hero to pull it back and out of the way.

“You don’t get it do you? Regardless of whether I actually go out on this date or not, Frederick thinks I wanted to go out with him and he goes to the same gym as Adrien. It’s not like this is some sort of secret I can keep and pray he never finds out. There are too many variables in this. Adrien will find out. I am so angry at you right now. I just can’t believe you!” She stood up, towering over her friend still sitting on the sofa — for once Marinette felt more supervillain than hero.

Alya threaded her fingers together and looked down. “I’m sorry, I really am.” Her voice was husky and sounded thick with emotion. She wished she could hold a grudge, but it wasn’t in her nature. Instead she collapsed beside her friend.

Rubbing her eyebrows, Marinette sighed. “I’ll do it,” she announced. “Not because I want to, but because I made a promise; but as soon as I get there I’m telling him the truth. And from now on, stay out of my business.”

Standing from the sofa, Marinette marched her way back into her bedroom and slammed the door shut, clutching the phone to her chest.

All of a sudden it began to alert her to more notifications, notifications she most likely didn’t want to read. Preparing to launch her phone onto the bed, the latest message with the sender's name lit up the phone screen.

Adrien.

Sliding the screen up, the message appeared and her heart crumbled.

Adrien

How can you possibly be so wonderful? I can’t wait to see you again x

P.S. check your list.

Smiling through the feeling that she was betraying him, Marinette opened the list Adrien had created for her.

5. Go on a date with a guy you could fall in love with.

Marinette wrapped her jacket, and Adrien’s scarf, around her tightly; even though March was creeping closer and closer there was still a slight chill in the air.

She shouldn’t be here. Every second feeling like a knife buried deep into Adrien’s back. Once again he’d been right, she couldn’t stand to let anyone down.

Alya.

Frederick.

Her readers.

The way she bowed to people's perspectives, not wanting to let anyone down, and ending up in a situation which she didn’t want to be in with a person she didn’t want to be with. Her weakness had led her to this moment and all the work she’d done with Adrien appeared to be for nothing.

Burying her nose into Adrien’s scarf, she breathed in, attempting to find a hint of his cologne to comfort her — and there it was.

Adrien.

Her Adrien.

Finding the courage she pushed open the door and looked around for Frederick. It was simple, she was going to walk up to him and tell him the truth. Her friend had messaged him not knowing that she was now with Adrien. She would agree to one or maybe two drinks — as friends — then message Adrien and see if she could meet up with him, filling him in on what had happened too. No harm, no foul. Plus, it wasn’t like Adrien would turn up here; she’d made sure it was far from his university, gym and apartment.

It would be fine.

She needed to believe it would be fine.

Finally locating Frederick sitting on a stool at the bar, Marinette pulled her shoulders back and advanced forwards towards him; the lines she was about to deliver to him playing through her mind.

‘I’m sorry, Frederick. My friend thought you were Chat Noir and she knows I have a thing for the hero.’

Simple. She could do this. She could give someone the answer they weren’t expecting and not worry about the aftermath, because at the end of the day what would he do? Nothing. It wouldn’t matter if he hated her. It didn’t matter if he was sad. All that mattered was that she was true to herself and Adrien.

“Wow, Marinette.”

Before she’d realised she was even moving, she stopped in front of Frederick and plastered on her most warm of smiles, instantly changing it when she realised this could be seen as deceitful.

Frederick stood and made his way towards her, his hands aiming for her waist and coming a little too close for her liking. He dipped down, his mouth obviously aiming for hers.

With a swift tilt of the head and movement of her body, Marinette managed to squeeze him closer into a bone crushing hug, capturing his head over her shoulder and away from any type of kiss being initiated.

Excellent. Kiss diverted.

“You look amazing.” Frederick placed a hand against the small of her back causing Marinette to create quite the elaborate dance routine of spinning out from his grasp and away from his touch.

She saw his eyebrows frowning as she attempted to smile and move onto a bar seat.

“So,” Marinette began, “I just wanted to apologise for dragging you out tonight. It was actually my friend that messaged you, not me.” This was it, she was doing it, standing up for herself and putting things right. “My friend thought she saw a spark between us and messaged you off my phone —”

“There’s definitely a spark. I mean look at us; two attractive single people, what could be more perfect? I’m sure you know how to keep your man happy.”

She was too stunned to move. What had he just implied? In that moment, two things were made clear: first he was definitely not her Kitty and secondly who the hell did this guy think he was?

“You know, I didn’t think you’d agree this easy. You looked like a girl who was a little more of a challenge, though, I also know you’ve been out with Gaston and Paul so I thought I’d throw my shot in too. It must just be Agreste you’re holding off, and who can blame you.” He barked out a laugh and Marinette wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Though, preference would be a super punch to the face.

That was it! He’d pushed too far now.

“I came here to apologise.” She steadied her nerves and searched inside her for her inner hero. Alya was right Ladybug was only Ladybug because she was also Marinette. “I wanted to apologise for you wasting my time. I need to go.”

Standing up, Marinette made to move away. Frederick’s attention focused over her shoulder and outside the window; a clear chance to exit. She went to turn. Heart set on getting out of the restaurant and calling Adrien. She needed to see him, then she needed to give Alya an earful. She wondered if Adrien would mind her staying with him tonight, she really didn’t want to be around her friend.

Frederick reached out, grabbing her arm before she could leave. In the matter of seconds, he had slid it down to grab her hand, taking the other and holding them in between them.

“I’m sorry, Marinette. I didn’t mean that.”

“Please, let me go,” she almost begged, her mind and body uncomfortable with the unwanted restraint.

His grip tightened, pulling her into his body as he moved his head to lean against hers, and then he kissed her.

It took a couple of seconds to register what the hell was happening and move her hands. Fighting out of his grip, Marinette pushed him away. She glared at him, noticing the smirk on his face as he looked towards the door.

“What the —” Marinette turned her head to where he was looking. No! No it couldn’t be! Why would he be here?

She looked back at a smug Frederick and put all the pieces together. He’d set this up! Quickly, her head whipped back to the doorway. Adrien was gone! Not a single strand of golden hair in sight.

“You!” Marinette exclaimed, turning back to Frederick. “You set this up! What the hell did Adrien ever do to you?”

“He caught your attention, didn't he! He got you.”

“I’m not a goddamn prize, you asshole!” she grabbed her bag from where she’d left it on the counter and prepared to leave; only to find herself restrained once again.

“Look,” he hissed, grabbing hold of her arm again and pulling her close. She stumbled forward and into his chest, her confidence suddenly shooting sky high and Ladybug taking over. It was time to make a change for the better.

“No,” she hissed back. “You look, you arrogant prick! You have no idea what I’m capable of so I suggest you back off.” She spoke through clenched teeth, the sudden change of his body language confirming to her that the threat had been received.

Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him backwards causing him to stumble slightly and land on the floor — his arm taking a collection of drinks from the bar with him.

Pointing down to him on the floor, Marinette spoke over the array of laughter aimed at a shell shocked Frederick.

“You dare to touch me again and you will regret it.”

Without a second look, Marinette was out of the door and into the streets looking left and right as she searched for any hint of blond hair in the crowds.

Bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, she attempted to look over the heads of the passers by, only to have no luck.

Moving forward, she ran into the closest alleyway and realised Tikki from her bag. Both searching the surroundings to check they were clear.

“Oh, Marinette!” The small kwami widened her eyes to look at her holder, the look of worry evident in her glassy orbs.

“How do I keep making such a mess of things? Adrien was right, I need to start thinking about what I want and what will make me happy — not other people. I need to find him. Tikki. Spots on.”

In a flash of pink light, Ladybug stood in Marinette’s spot, set on finding where Adrien had disappeared to and falling on her knees to grovel.

Ladybug had been looking for almost an hour. There were no signs of Adrien Agreste, just the beeping on her phone indicating her partner's whereabouts.

Chat Noir had been bouncing from rooftop to rooftop; every now and then stopping to pace steadily for a few minutes before bounding off again. Though not unusual for the cat hero to grace the skies, there was one thing which kept peeking her interest. He always came back to the rooftop opposite her apartment. Her new apartment — not the bakery.

She found a rooftop not too far away and watched as Chat Noir peered over towards the window which led to her bedroom. He seemed to stand there for some time before turning away and vaulting to another rooftop. Returning once more to perch on the rooftop — like a cat stalking a mouse.

Chat Noir hadn't visited her civilian form in months, and he’d never visited her here so could it be possible that maybe he was waiting for Alya? Everything inside her was screaming the truth; a truth she didn’t want to accept.

All of a sudden, Chat Noir began to tap his foot impatiently. He looked left and right; up and down the road as if waiting for someone to come home. The truth once again fighting to be heard.

After a while, curiosity became too much. Swinging on her yo-yo, Ladybug made the short distance to meet her partner.

“You know, I didn’t ever take you as a peeping Tom cat,” amusement laced her voice as she looked at the back of her partner’s head.

He turned around sharply, his face like thunder, as his lips drew back in a snarl. He leaped down from where he’d been sitting and gave one quick glance back at her window, before prowling forwards towards her.

“This is your fault!” he snapped, the bite in his voice not to be ignored.

“Me?” Ladybug questioned. “What did I do?”

For the first time since she was 14, and saw him coated in white under an akumas influence, she was scared. The sharpness of his eyes glaring at her as though he didn’t know her anymore. He checked the window again, turning back to her with his teeth bared.

“You and your stupid blog!”

He looked to the window again, clear agitation in his stance.

“W-why do you keep looking over there?” she stuttered out. Her teeth began to chatter. Her body craving warmth.

Her heart rate accelerated as he paced forwards, each inch making her tremble more. Without thinking she grabbed her yo-yo and began to spin it in front of her.

“Kitty, you’re scaring me.”

The moment of understanding struck him hard, taking him down onto his knees, his hands placed firmly onto the ground. He was bent over on all fours and his breathing was erratic.

“You’ve destroyed me.” His voice was a mere whisper in the wind. The fear of his hopelessness and anger was accelerated by a cold, heartless laugh. “Not only did you break my heart when I was in love with you — turning me down time and time again; but when I finally moved on and found a real true love, once again you managed to ruin that.” He shook his head and laughed again, lifting his chin to look at her. His eyes were glistening and misty. “I’m starting to think we have the wrong kwamis, M’Lady because you destroy everything you touch.”

Her lips pressed together so hard they were white, even knowing his words were spoken out of hurt they still struck her hard. His own mouth twisted and lips curled in preparation to speak again.

“Why did I think this would be any different? As soon as I heard she was following your blog, I should have known something like this would happen. That you wouldn’t allow me a mere millimetre of happiness. Is it because your dates are going so badly that you had to find a way to ruin mine?”

Ladybug looked over him, still settled on his knees staring back at her. She felt like dropping to her own; the energy being zapped out of her as she tried to retain her strength.

“I-I didn’t know you were following —”

“Bullshit!” he cried, springing back up onto his feet and pointing one finger at her. “Bull… shit! We discussed it last time we met, when I told you I was still hanging out hope for you. Well, you know what? That hope has gone! I am madly in love with her!” He flung his arm backwards, a gasp leaving her lips as she covered her mouth. So it was true!

“Are you — is she —”

“I kissed her last night, Ladybug. We kissed in a way I’ve only ever seen in movies. She told me she liked me, and then…” he laughed with malice, “and then you, Miss Goody-Two shoes, write about how if it’s not official to keep… dating.” He spat the words out like a bad taste from his mouth. “Do you not realise there’s girls out there who do exactly as you say? Girls, who are afraid to let people down if they don’t follow through? You were meant to make yourself seem normal, approachable, not manipulate those weaker than you.”

“I swear, just let me —”

“I can’t talk to you right now,” he interrupted. Shaking his head, he turned and gave one last look to her window, obviously he was looking for her because she was the one who had, once again, broken his heart.

Without another word he grabbed his baton, and extended himself out into the night sky, sending him in the direction of Adrien Agreste’s apartment because that’s who he was — Adrien Agreste, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng had seriously messed up.

Chapter Text

Alya sat nervously watching the television; her phone placed in her lap and her fingers tapping on the screen every couple of seconds to make sure she hadn’t missed a call, or a message… or anything.

Checking the clock again, she turned her attention from studying her phone to looking at the doorway; as neither sprung to life she once again worried about her roommate. 

Marinette hadn’t spoken to her since their confrontation earlier that morning. The silence had become unnerving and unusual between the two of them and Alya knew she was completely to blame. But, still, Marinette should be back by now then they could sort this out. The ‘date’ with Frederick happened over an hour ago — was she really that angry that she wasn’t coming back?

A small spark of hope ignited in her gut. Perhaps she’d gone to speak to Adrien and confess? But then a spritz of water doused the light. Maybe she was quietly moving her belongings back to her parents' bakery — unable to live with her friend's betrayal? And who could blame her?

A sudden buzz in her lap had the phone emitting a bright glow making her fumble to pick it up and check the ID of her texter. Alya’s heart deflated as she read the name. 

Nino.

Typing out a quick reply, she let her boyfriend know she was busy working for the rest of the evening, and if she finished early she’d give him a call. 

Before sending, she quickly added an additional question to the end of the message.

The reply from her boyfriend arrived in seconds, wishing her luck before stating what she already knew — Adrien had gone awol.

Standing up, she headed towards the kitchen, set on grabbing another cup of coffee. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, so why not load herself up with the caffeinated joys of her favourite drink as she tried to come up with a plan to fix her mess. 

Never in her life had she felt so hateful towards herself; she could only imagine how Marinette/Ladybug — her best friend and idol — felt about her at the moment; and if she was being honest, she wasn’t entirely sure they could get past this. 

Alya needed to come up with some sort of tremendous plan which would validate Marinette’s outing with Frederick along with proving Marinette’s love for Adrien. But who was she kidding? A simple plan wouldn’t work this time. She needed to woman up and tell the truth. She needed to head straight to Adrien’s place and beg for forgiveness on both their parts. 

Her first thought was to contact Adrien straight away. She could make sure he knew it was her idea for Marinette to go out with Frederick; that Marinette had nothing at all to do with it. But that would only open the question as to why Marinette hadn’t cancelled the date. 

The next thought was to write a retraction on the Ladyblog; saying she’d written Ladybugs latest blog and that she shouldn’t have posted it. But that wouldn’t do her future career much help. She would become a laughing stock, dragging Marinette down with her. 

Finally, she decided to just wait until Marinette came back and then they could decide the next move from there — together . She was sure Marinette would have sorted it with Frederick, that way Adrien would never have to find out and they could head to their little island, get married and have their three kids… or was it four? Anyway, she trusted her friend, she trusted Marinette had got this and that they could come up with a plan together. Ayla was ready to do anything. Anything.

Moving back to her laptop she noticed an influx of emails sent directly to the Ladyblog. With a sigh, she began to sieve through them; comments on the different Ladybug posts, more updates on a possible interview with Nadja Chamack and a video taken ten minutes ago. 

Curiosity won out and had her clicking on the play symbol. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and watched as her screen came to life; a video of Chat Noir and Ladybug on a rooftop, one which looked freakishly like the one opposite their apartment. She couldn’t quite make out what was happening, only that Chat Noir was on his knees, Ladybug talking to him with a worried expression on her face. 

The observer had obviously tried to zoom in closer, but with the height of the rooftop, even the best of phones would have the quality faulting and becoming pixelated. Alya saved the video and inputted it into her software that Max had created, attempting to sharpen it as much as possible before playing it from the beginning again.

“Marinette,” she said, clicking a couple of buttons, “what have you been up to?” 

She continued to watch, Chat Noir suddenly standing up and pointing right at their apartment… at Marinette’s room, just as Ladybug covered her mouth and what seemed to be an argument progressed. 

“No,” she gasped, continuing to watch the video. Alya watched as the whole of his body language was directing itself at Marinette’s window, and suddenly she saw it. The forlorn look, as he turned one last time. “No way!” 

No! No! No!  

Standing abruptly from her seat on the sofa, Alya grabbed her phone and searched for Adrien’s number again, placing it to her ear as it rang out again… and again… and again. She felt sick. Her stomach turned itself inside out as the realisation smacked her harshly in the head. She’d messed this up even more than she’d imagined. 

“Come on, Buttercup! Answer your goddamn phone.”

She began to pace the room, her little finger in her mouth as she bit down on her nail — hard. The call directed itself to voicemail, Alya taking it from her ear and hitting the redial button abruptly. 

“Adrien, come on. Answer your phone!”

As the automated voice began to tell her the occupant ‘couldn’t come to their phone right now’, a thadunk was heard down the hallway. One which she was sure had originated from Marinette’s room. 

Making her way in the direction of the noise, Alya’s ears were assaulted again by smashes and crashes, Marinette’s obvious anger being taken out on the objects around her room. 

As Alya reached out for the door handle, she froze.  Instead, holding back and pressing her ear in closer. 

“I’m sure it’ll be ok, Marinette. Just go and talk to him. Tell him the truth.” Tikki's soft and squeaky voice had Alya nodding in agreement. If she was right and Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste then he would listen. Chat and Adrien were good guys, they would be reasonable; but maybe not with Marinette or Ladybug at the moment. She — Alya — needed to get there first. 

“He hates me, Tikki. You heard what he said. He’s so angry and I can’t blame him. I shouldn’t have listened to Alya, I shouldn’t have gone. I should have just messaged Frederick and cancelled the date and then explained to Adrien what had happened.”

“Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Marinette. You had no idea Frederick would call Adrien there.” Alya could hear the comforting tones of the small kwami and wished she could burst through the doorway and wrap her arms around Marinette’s small frame. 

“It’s common sense Tikki, it’s obvious I did everything wrong.”

The clattering ceased and Alya held her breath waiting to hear what would come next. Tikki’s words took her off guard. “Are you okay? After Frederick pushed himself on you?” 

Alya’s hand shot to her mouth, covering the loud gasp that escaped. Frederick had what!? She stumbled her way back into the living area and collapsed onto the sofa.

What had she done?

Taking the phone out of her pocket once more, Alya attempted to call Adrien, her hands shaking from shock, anger and something else she wasn’t entirely sure about. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” she muttered, “Answer your damn phone, Agreste!” 

Another five tries added to the evidence he wasn’t going to answer. She needed to fix this. This was her fault. 

Heading to the front door, she reached to take her coat from the hook whilst pressing redial one last time, only for it to be interrupted by the notification of a post being loaded onto the blog.

One from Ladybug herself. 

@(Un)LuckyLady 🐞 [7]  

Dear Buginettes,

Three weeks ago, Cosmopolitan posted the rankings of Paris’ heroes. I was mortified to find myself so low. So I decided to start writing this blog; to make myself seem normal, like just another teen girl trying to find love. However, during my journey there were two things I realised: firstly I’m not a normal teen girl; I never was and never will be. Secondly, I didn’t need the blog to find love — love has been right in front of me this whole time. 

Before I get into the main reason for this post, I feel like I owe the men of Paris an apology. I went out of my way to date just about anyone for the blog, and although this was only a couple of dates, I didn’t exactly put my best foot forward. The reality; I did everything to make sure I didn’t succeed.

One of my civilian superpowers seems to be that I am able to reject love instead of accepting it, and that’s not just from my recent adventure. 

Ever since I was 14 I have been able to skilfully sabotage my relationships; just as I did during this whole blogging experience. Though this time, whilst making a complete idiot out myself, I missed something truly magical. 

Romance was fully on my cards, only for me to blow it in the worst possible way. I lied, I deceived and I didn’t commit. 

I was told by this truly magnificent man that I worried too much about what others thought and he’d even made me a list to help emphasise that; but, of course, when it came down to it I made another mess. I, once again, rejected love by making the wrong choice. 

Readers — I’m sorry I dragged you along on this colossal waste of time. I was  meant to help you find love; instead I just became wrapped up in making you like me. That wasn’t the attitude I should have started this blog with, nor the path I wanted to walk down, and I apologise to you all deeply.

The truth, in fact, is that I’m a loser. I have been sitting on the greatest love story ever told, yet I completely ignored it. I ignored my Prince, finally accepting me as his Princess.

When I was 12, I fell in love for the first time, or what I believed was love. He was tall, dark and handsome. Athletic and funny, and I was completely taken. That was the first and only time I’d had the confidence to tell a boy that I liked them; only to be sorely disappointed when it was thrown back into my face. 

I’ve hidden my love since; through stuttering , ill timed allergic reactions and claiming my extensive photo album was for research purposes . Not being able to verbalise my feelings the way they should be, and the way he had always deserved.

I’ve known my true love since I was 13. We’ve grown together, fought together, trained together. And he is now someone I’ve officially fallen in love with five different times. It sounds crazy but it’s true. It’s magical, memorable and forever . 

The first day I met him was a total meet cute and so very us. I made a complete fool out of myself as for one of the only times my civilian self bled into my super alter ego, sending me hurtling towards the ground only to land on top him and tangle us together, a tangle that would continue to be our interwoven relationship for the next five years. 

The second day I met him we had our second meet cute, though things were different this time — there were no masks and a rather large misunderstanding . I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, or time to explain, instead I took him for his worst and even though he’d forgiven me for my clumsy mess up the day before, I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive him — not straight away at least. 

He reached out to me that day, just as he has frequently since. He is my strength, my light in the darkness, my best friend, my shelter from the rain and I just can’t believe I had him and blew it! 

But I’m not giving up just yet.

I need to apologise to this most remarkable man and pray that he’s reading this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being scared, for sabotaging, once again, something that could have been beautiful and special. I want to try again. I want us to try again.

…and so If you are reading this, bring my lucky charm and meet me at our spot. I’ll be there for the next hour.

And to all my readers out there. Don’t reject love like I did. Don’t be scared. Don’t ignore it. Embrace it and fight for it.

Yours always,

Ladybug 🐞 

@(Un)LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: I don’t care

Guy’s numbers: 1 who won’t answer

Dates Planned: 1

Dates Completed: I don’t care anymore

Hits: 64, 892

Posted 30 seconds ago

“Damn!” Alya yelled, shutting off her phone screen and pushing her arms aggressively into her coat. Keeping her phone in her hand on the off chance Adrien might call, she went to Marinette’s room one last time in hopes of stopping her friend from doing something stupid. 

“Marinette?” she yelled, moving swiftly down the corridor. A silent response followed. “Come on! Marinette?” she tried again. 

As she reached the door, she grabbed the handle and threw it open. A quick look around told her exactly what she knew already – Marinette wasn’t there.

“Dammit!” Running to the window, Alya rested her hands on the open frame and peered out; there in the distance was a flicker of red connecting from rooftop to rooftop as her best friend headed towards the Eiffel Tower. 

The sun was slowly making its descent, allowing night to step forward and take centre stage, closing the day and casting ominous shadows across Paris. Of course this would happen at night, the pure black comforting like a blanket and hiding the emotions of its occupants under the cloth of darkness.

Alya knew it was risky what Marinette was doing. Even if Adrien had read it and realised it was about him he wouldn’t risk either of their identities by turning up. She just hoped and prayed her friend wasn’t putting too many hopes and desires on what could possibly come from this.

Nothing , she thought. Nothing was coming from this. 

Adrien Agreste turning up for Ladybug would go just as well as if Chat Noir did. Attention they both neither wanted, nor needed — their identities being truly placed on the line. Marinette was setting herself up for failure and once again guilt struck Alya hard. 

Grabbing hold of the window she closed it, slamming her thumb down on Adrien’s name once more on the screen of her phone. 

Still no answer.

Flicking off the lights, she marched out of the apartment, only to be met by another notification coming through on her phone. 

Locking the doors and heading to the stairwell she noticed the notification was a live video, one she’d been tagged in. 

Waiting until she was securely on the ground floor, her feet came to a stall. Alya opened her blog and saw the video of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s rooftop, one the two of them had been pictured time and time again; however this time, there was only one hero there… and she was standing alone.

Ladybug sat on the rooftop edge, waving down at those below her. It seemed everyone in Paris except Adrien had read her blog; each and every person coming out to support their beloved hero. She could hear cheers and whoops as the crowds shouted up to her, showering her with terms of endearment and support. Every now and then, a nosey passerby asking if they could replace Chat Noir — if he didn’t turn up.

Laughing it off as her heart-broke with every passing second, Ladybug attempted to keep a smile on her face, one which matched the billboard of the Alliance ring opposite; Adrien’s own, fake smile glaring back at her — how convenient! 

Tilting her head  in the direction of Notre Dame Cathedral, her fingers fidgeting as she willed the clock to stay silent. The four bells had already graced her presence three times and she knew as soon as the fourth hit her time would be up; a possibility hitting hard that both their partnership and friendship could be too.

She closed her eyes and allowed her head to hang low before grasping her yo-yo from her hip and opening it up. It was still bare. No fluorescent green paw print grasping for her attention – nothing . As her lungs gave way to all the air inside them Notre Dame mocked her loneliness, playing those dreaded notes one last time and telling her the hour was up. 

He wasn’t coming. 

Ladybug stood, waving once more to the crowd, before swinging her yo-yo and setting sail for the bakery. She couldn’t head home yet. She didn’t want to be alone and she definitely didn’t want to be with Alya. Did she really think he would come after she’d destroyed everything they ever had?

Dropping around the back of Collège Françoise Dupont, Ladybug released her transformation, becoming unlucky-in-love Marinette once more. Actually, she could now say she was just as unlucky in the mask as out. 

“I’m sorry,” Tikki whispered, taking the macaron Marinette offered. 

The hero shrugged, there wasn’t anything to really say and if she did speak she was almost certain she would cry. How had so much changed in 24 hours?

She’d had everything in the palm of her hands, and she was happy, deliriously and deliciously happy. Then Alya took it upon herself to poke her nose in. How would she ever forgive her?

Marinette tucked Tikki into her side bag before walking out the alleyway and towards the bakery. She needed to be somewhere warm, somewhere that would make her feel loved, and nothing beat the hugs of her parents. They were always there when times were rough, even if they didn’t know the full extent of it. Her chest hurt. Each breath felt like inhaling cold, sharp icicles as her heart begged for something that could hold it together;  stopping the fractures from spreading and deepening into irreparable cracks.

Walking out onto the street, she moved down the sidewalk and in front of her old collège building, stopping to stare at the dark, stone steps. So many memories lay within these walls, and just for once she wished something could give her a sign. 

As though the heavens above heard her, a crack of thunder roared in the distance — thick raindrops falling onto her mascara stricken cheeks. 

Drip! Drip! 

Suddenly the small downfall began to increase and she set her sights on making it home to the bakery, only to stop and take one last look at the staircase which started it all. It was a day like today she’d fallen utterly in love with Adrien Agreste. A moment she both treasured and one she wished she could delete from her mind. From that day there was no one else, there would never be anyone else; her mind had been scrambled from the moment he’d offered her shelter and protection,  neither realising the true extent of their budding relationship. 

Looking up to the top of the staircase, her hair getting soaked from the downpour, she noticed the door to the collége was open, a faint glow appearing in the courtyard and what looked like candles leading a path further inside the building. She stood looking, trying to consider the pros and cons of following the flickering lights when Tikki nudged her through her bag. 

She moved forward up and into the building, out of the rain, searching the area for where the candles led only to find the trail heading up to her old homeroom. Some of the candles had already been extinguished, others protected by small glass jars giving them a little canopy. 

“Marinette, keep going,” Tikki whispered, spurring Marinette on and up the staircase. 

Marinette launched herself up the staircase, two at a time towards their old home room; feet finally slowing when she saw something moving in one of the rooms. Tilting her head, she was sure she could see a shadow through the glass. A shadow blocking a section of light and casting a silhouette against the backdrop… a silhouette which had ears. 

Cat ears.

Marinette charged forward and placed a hand on the door handle, praying he was there, that her partner once again had made a plan of his own. One where maybe… just maybe… she’d be forgiven. 

As the door opened her eyes caught the glow of green staring back, his clawed hands gripping the desk as he perched upon it; his eyes and mouth set in an emotion she could not read.

Chapter Text

Adrien couldn’t believe it. After everything they’d been through, how could she have decided to go out and kiss Frederick?

He closed his laptop with a little more force than it deserved and moved into the lounge from his study area. He needed to do something; his body was filled with a toxic cocktail of hurt and anger — and longing . How could this woman dig deep into his heart and rip it out — all in the matter of 24 hours? It was a rhetorical question of course, she’d been playing the same game for years. 

Sighing, he sat on the bench at his piano and allowed his fingers to take control; playing whatever came into his head first, an attempt at pushing Marinette out. But Adrien could play for hours and it would do nothing; Marinette had stolen everything from him. His heart, his mind, his soul. Slamming his hands down on the piano to create a loud, untuned noise, he pushed himself up and closed the lid abruptly, Plagg jumping from his nap on the top of the sofa.

Taking his phone from his pocket and opening up the Ladyblog once more; his mind screamed at him to stop and back away from the phone — he was too far gone. He began to march the length of the room. One hand scrolled the screen as the other played with the stubble coating his cheeks. His face was left to turn to scruff, as were his sweats. It’s not like he needed to impress anybody, anyway. 

‘The truth, in fact, is that I’m a loser. I have been sitting on the greatest love story ever told, yet I completely ignored it. I ignored my Prince, finally accepting me as his Princess.’

Adrien removed his hand from his chin and reached into his back pocket. The pocket where his lucky charm lay, even after all these years. He felt the emotion grip his heart again as the pieces of plastic danced around in his fingers, a tight clenching taking to his heart and a prickling at his eyes. How could she have kissed someone else? It just didn’t make sense. Had the whole thing with him been nothing more than an experiment? Or did she mean what she’d written? 

The words from her latest post had embedded in his brain as he hurt himself once more by reading the blog post. Every single syllable was a stab in the heart. Could he even believe what she’d said? Was it real or just a publicity stunt?

Without warning, his doorbell rang. Adrien switched from the Ladyblog to an app on his phone and pulled up the monitor. “Hello?” he said, coughing slightly to remove the thickness in his throat. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry yet, but he was quite certain the emotion was brewing.

“Adrien? It’s Alya. Can I come up please?” 

He looked down at the screen and into the eyes of his friend and Marinette’s best friend. Ladybug’s best friend. He wished he could tell her to go away, to leave him alone to wallow in his own self pity, as he comatosed himself on ice cream and Hallmark movies. The last thing he wanted was for his ‘almost’ girlfriend's best friend to lecture him on his behaviour. 

Moments passed as he considered his opinions; his curiosity winning out as he unlocked the door to the building. 

“Sure,” he said wryly.

He watched as Alya stepped through the doorway and closed it behind her, the snap of the lock suddenly bringing him back to his senses.

“Damn.” He rubbed over his brows. 

Plagg flew in front of him, a frown of worry taking over his face.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” The kwami asked.

Adrien shrugged. “What else am I going to do? Leave her outside and have her banging on the door all night. You know she won’t give up.” 

A quick tap of his phone and once again his attention was on the Ladyblog. 

‘…and so If you are reading this, bring my lucky charm and meet me at our spot. I’ll be there for the next hour.’

Knowing Ladybug/Marinette the way he did, it was most likely the rooftop opposite the Eiffel Tower. They’d lived, laughed and cried by that object; its grandeur the background for many of their greatest, and worst, moments. Victory, defeat; love and loss… the heart of Paris also the heart of their foundation — a foundation which had possibly been rocked one too many times. 

Could they continue this way? Were they meant to just spend their lives dancing around each other and causing pain? Because right at this moment, he couldn’t see a way out of this. They just seemed to be moving in a dangerous circle of love and hurt. 

Was love really worth all this hassle?

A knock at the door drew a sigh from Adrien’s lips — he really didn’t have the energy to deal with this right now. Running a hand through his hair, before grating the skin of his hand once more over his stumble, he headed to the doorway and let Alya in. 

… and there she stood. Her usual bravado was missing as her shoulders hunched in on themselves. Not exactly the fiery greeting he thought he would have received. 

Using an arm, he welcomed her into the main living area of his apartment, closing the door behind them and following after. 

“This is quite the apartment, Agreste. How come you haven’t had any parties here yet? Afraid we’ll break the fancy statues?” Alya motioned to the statue Marinette had made fun of when she brought him home… what? Only a day ago? Oh, how quickly the wind changes!

“Why are you here?” he sighed, crossing his arms and tilting his head to one side. He had no patience for small talk; in fact, he had little patience for anything at the moment.

“That is not how you greet your guests, Kitty Cat, I thought that would have been part of your Agreste training.” 

“How much did she tell you?” Adrien looked at his friend — the one who knew Ladybug’s identity. It made sense now, Marinette had obviously sent her to make sure he turned up. What did Marinette think? That Alya could guilt him into going? Or maybe just manhandle him there? He checked her neck, looking for the possibility she was wearing the fox Miraculous because the only way he was moving from this spot was if she dragged him.

“She’ll be waiting for you, you know.” Alya moved to the sofa and sat herself down, her hands holding together with a slight tremble as she placed them in her lap. 

He wasn’t sure how he was meant to respond to her question; ‘okay, I’ll go hop, skip and jump to the girl who kissed me then broke my heart by kissing another man’, or ‘I’d rather stay here and wallow in my self pity so please vacate my safe space’.

“She’ll be waiting for a while then because I have a rather busy evening. Now, if you’d just mind –” 

“Don’t even try that with me, Adrien, I know exactly what you’re doing and you’re not pushing me out. You’re in your sweats! You’re not going anywhere.” 

He rolled his eyes and headed for the chair opposite the sofa. Dropping into it, he looked Alya in the eyes and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “What do you want?”

“For you to go to the girl you love. To supersuit up and fly to the one who’s beating herself up about what happened, and finally kiss her senseless.” Alya said, plainly. 

“Why should I go to someone who obviously seems fine with kissing other men? I can’t have meant that much to her. I kissed her and then she continued to date other men, and Frederick of all people. But that’s not the worst—” he laughed. “She writes on the blog for everyone else to do it too. Such a hero!”

Alya was shaking her head furiously from side to side and he was slightly worried she was going to cause herself some sort of concussion. “Adrien, you’re the one who's got it all wrong.” 

“How?” He pushed off his knees and stood up, peering over at Alya and feeling his anger boil once more. “The evening after she let me kiss her, she wrote a blog about ‘ if you’re not official —  keep dating’. I’m an idiot, I know I am, I let myself live in this fantasy world — one where I finally get the girl of my dreams, only to be used as part of her social experiment. I’m done Alya, you can tell her she can have Plagg back. I can’t work like this anymore.”

“I don’t think so, Kid.” Plagg flew forwards and into Adrien’s face, his little hands on his hips as he glared at his holder. “Listen to Trixx’s kid and sort this out, because Tikki and I are done. This is the most stupid game of kiss chase we’ve ever been involved in. Give me sworn enemies any day.” 

Adrien looked at the kwami, his mouth opening and closing, before he turned to Alya. She’d stood up with her hands still joined together in front of her body; her fingers playing nervously.

“It’s my fault,” Alya said, her eyes shyly looking to meet Adrien’s. “Please don’t take this out on Marinette. I m-m-messed up. I told Marinette she had to go on the date, she didn’t want to, and I wrote the blog. All this —” She waved her arms around. “It’s all my fault.”

“How? You didn’t kiss anyone else, she did!”

“I - I forced her into the date, and Frederick kissed her. She wanted nothing to do with it.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “She’s her own person, Alya. You can’t keep making the decisions for her.”

“Please, Adrien!” Alya’s eyes glistened under his spotlights and he couldn’t ever recall seeing her cry. “It’s my fault. It’s nothing to do with Marinette. I thought Frederick was you and she agreed to one date with Chat Noir, she knew he wasn’t you. I guilted her into it. Please, I beg of you, just let me explain.”

Exhaling through his nose, Adrien sat down and listened.

“Chat Noir?” Marinette’s voice was timid, the little hitch in his name alerting him straight to the nervousness she was feeling, a similar situation in himself. “I didn’t – I mean – I need to talk to you.” 

Adrien, suited as Chat Noir, remained leaning against the desk. The desk which had brought them together and started their relationship — for the second time. His arms were crossed and he held up one hand to stop her from talking, his head shaking and guiding her to refrain from doing or saying anything else. Standing, he walked past her to the light switch, flicking it on before moving back and once more looking straight at her.

Messing with the zip on his suit pocket, Chat Noir pulled out a sheet of paper, one he’d gotten Alya to print off for him after their meeting earlier today. As it remained folded in his hands, he recalled the blog posted he knew off by heart.

“‘ …and so If you are reading this, bring my lucky charm and meet me at our spot. I’ll be there for the next hour.’ I know you went to the Eiffel Tower. I had the livestream on.”

“Adrien,” she said with a step towards him, “please let me –” 

Once again Chat Noir placed a hand out in her direction, stopping her from moving any closer to him. He had a lot he wanted to say. She’d spoken enough on the blog, though it took some persuasion from Alya for him to believe that they were actually Marinette’s words, it was now his turn.

A soft sob left her luscious lips, as she covered them with her hand and nodded. It was killing him to see her so broken. The tear streaks stretching the length of her face had been caused by his actions and, if he was being petty, he’d say they were equal now. Her earlier actions still stabbed him deep in the heart.

“You know, I should have been in collège one day earlier than I actually was. I’d made it to the steps without being caught, but then this little old man in a questionable Hawaiian shirt and a walking stick was laying out on the ground. Everyone was walking past him so I went over and helped him up, sacrificing the freedom I’d always craved for this.” He held up his hand, twisting the ring from side to side with his thumb. “After being dragged home by Nathalie, I found a small box on my coffee table. A box which for the first year I thought was the key to my happiness — my chance to be free and be me.” 

A sigh left his lips, his eyes moved to the ring on his finger as he placed the paper down and began to mess with his Miraculous instead. Twirling it around his finger and studying the intricate black shaping. 

With a quick pull, the ring slid off along with the black material protecting him. Adrien was left standing in the jeans and shirt he’d thrown on. His face — clean and smooth as opposed to the stubbly coating it had covered a mere hour ago. 

“This ring came with a whole array of responsibilities, but it also came with something else.” He twisted and turned the ring between his fingers, the now silver metal reflecting the lights from the room, causing the dull object to glisten with opportunities, hope and destruction. 

“You know–” Adrien threw the ring up, snatching it from midair as it descended and held it tight in his fist. “There are two things I think about often. The first is whether I should have gone against my better judgement and left Fu on the ground. Making my way into class and meeting you first.” 

He looked into her eyes, keeping his gaze level and unreadable, which was amazing considering the hard pounding currently occupying his chest. He wanted to just run to her, to sweep her in his arms and tell her that he wanted to give it a chance, give them a chance; but, he needed to get this off his chest first. The apology he owed her could wait until later.

“Secondly, I wonder if I should have been more insistent on the identities being revealed. We’ve been going around in circles for years, for no reason.”

For the first time since she’d entered the room Adrien stopped and studied her properly — shoulders slumped and head down. Her delicate fingers moved around each other, locking and opening in their usual nervous way. He seated himself back on the edge of the desk. He wanted to remain level, not tower over her. It wasn't meant to be intimidating.

“I was scared.”

“Yeah, well, so was I.” 

The silence wrapped around them, the feeling more of an itchy wool than a soft cotton. They knew they needed the warmth of each other; but, at the moment it was uncomfortable; the tightly wound tension waiting to be thrown from their bodies — but could they stand the coolness of reality. 

 “Tell me, Marinette… How can I believe anything you say? Tell me, because right now I’m finding everything hard to understand. You didn’t date Chat Noir because apparently you were in love with Adrien Agreste, then you gave up on Adrien and didn’t choose Chat Noir again… you chose Luka instead. Then Paul, Gaston and even Frederick. So tell me Marinette! Why was it never me? What is so wrong with me that I was the last resort?”

“It’s not like that,” she defended herself, tears creating a new river down her face.

Adrien frowned. “Then tell me. Tell me, Marinette, because I don’t understand!”

“People like you aren’t seen with girls like me, okay! This isn’t believable!” she shouted, motioning between them. “I’ve never been able to face you rejecting me!”

“You’re wrong Marinette, girls like you are seen with guys like me. I choose who I can be with, and I wanted to be with you! Dammit, did the kiss mean nothing to you? I put my heart out there for you, Marinette. Do you not understand how vulnerable I am around you?”

The heavy pants of breath echoed around the room as they glared at each other in an unspoken search. 

“Where does this leave us?” Her voice was small and timid, one that didn’t suit Marinette or Ladybug. 

He gulped. Studying her face, Adrien could see the emotion begging to burst out and scream for understanding; tears of apologies drowning her gorgeous blue eyes, eyes which always made him feel safe and adored.

“Alya came to see me today. She had some very… specific pieces of information to tell me, information that I wasn’t aware of, which I didn’t give you a chance to explain.” He pushed himself to stand, taking a hold of the paper to bring with him. 

“I’m so sorry,” Marinette whispered, the quiver in her voice matched by the vibrations of her lower lip. Her cheek being sucked in and he guessed chewed on. 

He shook his head. “No.” His voice was strong considering his legs felt like they were going to give way. This was the biggest moment of his life, one which could make or break their possibility of a future together. 

Marinette’s phone began to ring in her bag, though her eyes never left his as the chimes echoed through the near empty classroom. He prayed she would leave it, that she wouldn’t answer to someone else’s beck and call, the issue why they were here in the first place: Marinette’s lack of ability to say no.

His dreams were cut short as Marinette turned her attention to the object. His own eyes closing and grip tightening on the paper in his hand. They were never going to get anyway, and it felt like a knife to the heart. 

“I’ll call you later, Alya. I’m turning my phone off.” 

His head shot up to face her, her eyes glistening with something he wanted to bottle and keep forever. He watched as she pressed a couple of buttons and shut the device down, handing it to Tikki; the small kwami took it back into the bag as Marinette stood strong. 

She looked beautiful. Not even the worried expression she’d entered the room with could harm the natural beauty of the woman in front of him; the woman who even when breaking his heart made him feel more alive and loved than anyone else ever had in his life.

“You were right. You have always been right. I listen too much to what other people think, that’s why I could never tell you how I feel about you. I always thought you wouldn’t accept me. I couldn’t lose you, Adrien. If I had to live with you forever just being my friend then that's what I would have done.” 

Adrien watched as the tears sparkling in her eyes escaped, sliding down the tracks on her cheeks, causing him to suck his own lips in. He could feel them quiver; biting down on them to stop the tears leaving his own eyes. The oppression behind them desperate for him to shed and, finally, heal. 

“I couldn’t lose you or Chat Noir. I - I -” Her sobs were breaking him, the need to run to her growing stronger by the second, but this had to be dealt with first; this conversation had to be finished. 

She sniffed and spoke softly. “I didn’t kiss him. I want to be with you. Please say I get a second chance. I’m so sorry, Adrien.”

Adrien gulped and moved his eyes around the room. His mouth scrunching and releasing as he attempted to gain some kind of composure. “I know.” It was huffed and barely there, but he’d said it. He stepped towards her, reducing the space between them. “And Alya’s a shit friend, by the way.”

A barked laugh left her mouth. “I know.”

“There’s a new -“ he coughed, removing the thickness that had built in his throat. “Alya’s posting a new blog tonight but I thought you’d like to read it first.” 

Unfolding the piece of paper which he’d been playing with, he handed it to Marinette and watched as she read it knowing every single word off by heart.

@ChatNoir_Official [438]  

I remember the day I received my Miraculous, the day a piece of jewellery changed my life and introduced me to the world of the weird and the wonderful. I returned home, sat on my roof and looked to the heavens, and that’s when I saw it — the fiery tail of a shooting star. 

The flickering embers of the meteor lit the night sky and finally, after what felt like forever my life had meaning. 

The symbolisation of a shooting star is of good luck; an element you can wish upon and hope that one day you’ll be lucky enough for that wish to come true.

I waited my entire life for the star to reappear. Not just for the beauty of the dazzling lights to engulf me in their brightness, but for what the star brought to my life. Freedom. Purpose. Love. 

I’ve spent many days walking amongst those who couldn’t understand my frustrations. But even in the darkest of hours, I knew my wish would be granted, I believed it would be granted. I believed deep in my heart that one day my world would be whole again… and that my wish for an all consuming love would be complete. That my star would shine brightly once again.

Then it happened, I saw it. The brightest star I’ve ever seen — and my life, once again, had meaning.

Adrien watched the tears glide silently down her face, her hand fisting to wipe them away. “Is it me?” Her voice was laced with emotion. “The shooting star?” she sniffed. “Is it me?”

“Yes,” Adrien replied, his own voice thick and hoarse. She was his shooting star, his guiding light, his lucky charm. 

“I’m so sorry, Adrien. I shouldn’t have listened to Alya, I should have stood my ground.” 

Adrien shook his head, finally moving close enough to touch her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “You can’t help being you. I love the way you are, even though it can be infuriating at times; but, that wasn’t our main issue, it was the identities — again . If you’d known I was Chat Noir,  you wouldn’t have gone on that date with Frederick. Alya told me everything, and I’m quite sure that’s why she was calling — to apologise.”

“Why here? Why didn’t you come to the tower?” she asked. 

He couldn’t help the lopsided grin that appeared. “Because this is where it all started. This here,” he pointed to Chloé’s old desk, “is where our story truly began. If the gum incident hadn’t been resolved the way it did, who knows where it all might have led us. We could have been enemies, or you may have succumbed to my puns. This, here, is the important part; you showed me how forgiving you are; how wonderful you are.”

“And you taught me not to judge people before getting to know them. To finally trust again.” 

His smile widened. “I’m glad I was useful for something.”

“So where do we go from here?” she asked, and if he could read her correctly, there was a clear hint of hope in her voice. A hope he was willing to capture and use.

“I think–” Adrien tapped one finger against his chin. “I think you need to ask me out on a date.”

She looked at him, her wide eyed glare accompanied by a stuttering of her breath in her chest. “I’m scared.” 

He moved his hands to her hips and looked deep into her eyes. “I am too, but I know I love you with every breath I take. I want you and I need you Marinette. You need to trust me like you have for so many years. This is going to be okay. You and I, together as always. It’s where we belong.”

Adrien prayed she believed him, that the hope and desire in his eyes and words would be enough for Marinette to take this leap, to make his dreams come true. 

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes and moving her hands; reaching down she grabbed hold of his hands and laced their fingers together, pulling him closer and pressing them against her heart. 

“The first time I saw you, I misjudged you. I thought you were conceited and superficial. But then, I got to know you. I saw who you really were deep down—someone sweet, sincere, and generous. Since then, there's something I've been wanting to tell you. But every time I try, it's like my brain suddenly freezes. But now, I think I'm ready.”

A crescendo of love swarmed them; their lips meeting as their hands remained tightly bound in between them. It was the sweetest, happiest and most special moment of his life. This girl loved him, and he loved her.

He could feel the tremor in Marinette’s hands as they shook holding onto his, a tremble moving up her body and sitting on her lips. They broke away, Adrien slowly opening his eyes and coming face to face with a Marinette who looked every inch her alter ego. 

“I want you to be mine,” Marinette said, the emotion sending the worlds out in a roller coaster of tones and volumes, each evidence of the high feelings inside her.

“I always have been. 5 years ago, yesterday, today, tomorrow. Forever. ”

Adrien didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They were finally here, after years of back and forth they’d finally made it. He reached forwards and grabbed the edges of the scarf, his scarf before moving one hand to wipe at her tear soaked cheeks. His eyes were sparkling and he had to take a moment to catch his breath. She was gorgeous and she was his. 

Suddenly her lips began to move and words that, back when he was 14, he thought he would never hear, escaped her delicate pink lips. 

“Kitty, I love you.”

Chapter Text

@LuckyLady 🐞 [1, 231]  

Dear Buginettes,

It’s been 5 years to the day that I started my search for love; 5 years since ‘The ‘ super’ guide to ‘ super’ dating began. 4 years and 48 weeks since I’ve been with my soulmate; a soulmate who I’ve known for over 10 magical  years. 

Love can be hidden anywhere, it’s not always going to be bright and vibrant, all singing and all dancing, sometimes it’s just there, hugging us like the warmest coat on the coldest day. It could be in the person who makes us smile, who protects us, who puts their life on the line for us. It’s that one person who can make you laugh on your darkest day; who’s always there regardless of disagreements or complicated work schedules. 

We live in the city of love, it’s around us all the time. It helps to guide our journey to the person who will make our bad days good and our good days even better. 

When I started my journey I would have liked to have said my heart was open for love; that I was open to meeting new people and ready to accept what they could give me. But that wasn’t true. 

My heart wasn’t open. 

But with the right care and nurturing I was able to unlock the door and allow someone in, someone who is my other half, my one true love, my soulmate. It wasn’t until I dug deeply into myself that I realised everything I wanted, and everything I ever needed was there right in front of me this whole time. 

It may have taken years to get there, but it has been so worth it. Every second. Minute. Hour. Day. Week. Month. Year.

I’ve only ever loved one man. I loved him before, I love him now, and I’ll love him forever.

My journey has come to an end. My heart is overflowing, one love forever staying in my heart and I thank this blog everyday for allowing that to happen. 

This is my last post. This is my swan song.

Thank you everyone for the love and support.

Yours always,

Ladybug 🐞 

@LuckyLady🐞

Guy’s interested: 1

Guy’s numbers: 1

Dates Complete: 1, 829

Dates Planned: To eternity

Hits: 87, 991

“Have you got everything you need? We won’t be able to come back once we leave.” Sabine was fretting around, her usually calm exterior now coated with an extra thick layer of anxiousness. She looked at her watch for about the thousandth time that minute, an obvious attempt to get her daughter somewhere on time. It hadn’t happened in the past 24 years of Marinette’s life so why would that change today of all days?

“Maman, please, stop worrying. Everything’s packed that I need, I’m only going to be down the road, it’s not like I’m leaving France.” 

“I know, I just…” the smaller woman stepped forward and took her daughter into her arms. Marinette bent down to make the action easier for her Maman. “You’ll always be my baby, Marinette, even if you are all grown up and moving on in your life.”

Marinette wrapped her arms over her mothers and squeezed her tight. “I know. I love you very much Maman, thank you for everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t have got through this without you and Papa.”

The two women clung to each other, tears threatening to spill earlier than anticipated. Sabine reached into her small clutch bag, pulling out a fresh, white handkerchief. Marinette’s cherry blossom motif embroidered delicately in the corner.

“Come on now,” Sabine whispered, wiping under her eyes. “We need to head off.” 

With one last hug, Marinette looked towards the staircase of her loft room before taking in the pink angles of the room. It was weird being back. She’d stayed the previous night in her bed — the strong nostalgia playing hard with her heart strings. She was so used to having Adrien by her side; his heat and heart warming her as they talked about nothing and everything until they fell asleep.

To say they knew everything about each other before the reveal was a colossal lie. Even with them knowing two different sides of each other there seemed to be at least a thousand other things to learn. 

Within a month Marinette was living with Adrien in his apartment, the extra distance from ESMOD being a slight pain, but having her boyfriend walk her to and from the university was quite the highlight of her day, especially seeing her classmates' faces. 

Yes, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was dating Adrien Agreste, ex supermodel and total hottie. 

Tom and Sabine had embraced him into the family too, knowing the extent of their love for one another and supporting it in a way Gabriel Agreste never could. Both of them were grateful for the solace and sanctuary of the Boulangerie as they fell into place with their new found relationship. 

But things change in a constant cycle. The world doesn’t stop spinning and the world moves on — time being your greatest allie and worst enemy.

Moving forward, Marinette tentatively took the steps leading down from her old room and into her parents kitchen, her father breaking down the moment he saw her. 

Tom walked forward and engulfed Marinette into a hug, wrapping his arms almost around her body twice giving her the love and support she had always cherished from her parents. 

“Adrien will be proud,” Tom said, kissing her cheek. 

“I know,” Marinette sighed, leaning into her fathers hold, allowing herself to be engulfed by the warmth of the first man she had ever loved. 

She really was the luckiest girl in the world.

The sound of heels on the wooden floor was joined with the calm voice of her best friend, her shoulder to cry on and the whole reason she was here in the first place. 

Regardless of the mess Alya had created, after a couple of months of grovelling and Nino’s continuous snide comments, she had been allowed back into Marinette and Adrien’s life. Apologies had been sent around all of them, and the whole thing now just seemed like a distant memory. One no one wanted to repeat. 

“You ready girl? The cars downstairs.”

Marinette nodded, turning to her mother so the smaller lady could check her face, before grabbing the single red rose from the breakfast counter, and heading towards Alya.

“Yeah,” Marinette sighed, a slight sniff to control the tears from spilling again, they hadn’t got any time to fix her face. “It’s now or never right?” 

Making her way down the staircase, she headed out of the boulangerie and to the waiting black limo outside the door. The driver clambered out, shuffling around so he could open the door for Marinette, Alya helping her in before moving over and allowing Tom and Sabine to enter too.

“I’ve heard from Nino,” Alya interrupted the silence. “Everything’s in place and ready.” 

Marinette nodded, a pit of nerves clutching hard in  her stomach; the feeling began to intensify as they grew closer and closer to the venue. The small church hidden away in the depths of Paris’ historic  buildings, the perfect quaintness for today's occasion — even if Gabriel didn’t agree.

As far as Marinette was concerned Gabriel was nothing more than a distant family member, one neither Marinette or Adrien cared about and one she prayed wouldn’t make it to the venue today. 

She held the rose tighter, glad she’d gone for a thornless flower rather than one that could cut into her skin and stain her clothing. Red wasn’t on today’s outfit agenda.

The bells were ringing as the limo pulled up outside, Marinette glancing out the window and towards some more of their friends waiting on the small staircase.

Kagami and Alix were standing on the side, looking beautiful in MDC exclusives just like Alya. Both bouncing on their heels and Alix obviously checking her watch. Marinette giggled, she wasn’t that late.

Sabine left the vehicle first, Alya following next before Tom helped Marinette out and onto the path in front. The girls all rushed around her to straighten out her dress and reapply her lipstick. 

A group of tourists walked past, each commenting on the group and outfits as they continued on with their day and as used to being in the limelight as Marinette was, today was theirs and only theirs.  She looked to Alya and the girls for support, each giving her a smile of encouragement. 

This was it. 

This was the moment. 

The bells continued to play  as she began to make her way up the staircase and into the church. Alya, Kagami and Alix surrounded her and helping her walk, all stopping as they came face to face with Nino. 

“He’s ready and waiting Marinette,” her friend explained, stepping forward and embracing her tightly. “Take your time.” 

Kissing her on the cheek, Nino turned to head back into the venue; a spring in his step as he vaulted up them two at a time. 

“You ready?” Kagami asked, looping an arm through Marinette’s, her own eyes filling with tears. Marinette nodded, unable to speak as they progressed into the hallway just in front of the altar. 

The girls were joined by Luka at the doorway, his arm being offered to Sabine and taking her through the doors and down to the front of the church. The girls repositioned themselves in front of Marinette and Tom, allowing the hero to follow in last. 

“You look beautiful,” Tom whispered, positioning the veil over Marinette’s face and taking her into one last hug. “You make the most beautiful bride.”

The music began to play; Kagami and Alix leading the procession down the aisle as Alya turned and grabbed Marinette’s hand one last time. She gave it a quick squeeze, before tightly clutching hold and pulling her into a bone crushing hug. 

“I love you so much girl, and I’m so happy for you.”

Marinette could feel her eyes prickle with tears again, her nose itching with emotion. “Thank you.” She managed to give Alya one last smile before the bridesmaid turned around, meeting Nino and beginning her walk. 

Looking at her Papa, Marinette nodded and looped an arm through his. This was it. The moment she officially traded it Dupain-Cheng to become an Agreste. Her dreams from her younger years were finally coming true, as the love of her life waited to meet her at the bottom of the aisle. 

The congregation was full of old and new friends.

Marinette sent out kisses and smiles to everyone who had come to celebrate. Rose, Juleka and Fei — who cradled a tiny, sweet boy to her chest. Kim, Ondine, Max, Ivan, Myléne, Marc, Nathaniel — all of their nearest and dearest from collége. 

Luka stood beside Adrien, a look of pride on his face mixing with the sheer exhaustion of his newborn baby. 

Pringles Paul and his ex-girlfriend now wife. Gaston. The plastics; also known as Fleur, Madeline and Camille, all three proud models for MDC sportswear. 

The church was full of love and happiness. So many people they held dear to their heart. Nathalie, Gorilla, Félix. Su-Han. Her Uncle Wang and Adrien’s Aunt Amelie — no Gabriel Agreste. 

They had completed the formalities the day before at the council house and even though she knew she was already married to the man standing with his back to her — the man who had always chased after her — that didn’t make this moment any less special. She’d dreamed about this moment for so long. 

She studied his blond hair. It was perfectly positioned as always in his newest style — slightly shorter to what he used to have but still a perfect look for him, and her heart blossomed.

Marinette loved this man. She loved everything about him. He was hers and she was his; heart, body and soul, and as he turned for his first look her breath caught in her throat. The intense gaze of love, longing and adoration swelled in her heart, and the desire to run and jump into his arms was overwhelming.

The love surrounding them excluded everyone else in the room as they created their new life together — as husband and wife.

The End