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Chapter 8

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe it,” Alya breathes. “I can’t – after five years – it’s like watching your firstborn learn to walk.”

“Wow. What a simile.”

“What? It describes this situation perfectly, hun! Baby steps. Or rather, a deer falling flat on its face fifty times in a row before starting to walk.” Alya fans air at herself. “Gosh, I’m excited. Can I take photos? Videos?”

“No!” Marinette flares up. She clears her throat. “Please. Please, please don’t watch us. Please. I’ll text you how it went, okay?”

“And if you don’t text at all, you’re getting it on behind some bushes.”

“Alya!”

“Just kidding, just kidding.” She pats Marinette’s shoulders. “I’m very proud of you. Really, really proud. You can do it. And finally get this whole thing done with for good, no matter how it turns out.”

Marinette flinches. “At least I’d still have my Tinder account, huh?”

“And your …” Alya squints. “Fifty matches.”

“Nope.”

“Hundred.”

“Really now?”

“I don’t know? Two hundred?”

“No worries. You’ll probably find out anyway once I need a long, nice drinking evening with my bestie and a lot of red wine.” Marinette takes a deep breath. “All right. I’m ready.”

“Great.”

“So ready.” She nods. Shakes her head. “Oh god, no, abort mission, I’m not ready at all!”

“Welp, too late, because there they are.” Plastering on a broad smile, Alya waves at somewhere across the plaza. “Hey, babe! Here!”

Marinette only slowly turns around. But here he is. Adrien, having sat right next to her just two days ago. It’s still somehow too much. She feels her heart pound too hard. Still, she smiles when Nino and Adrien approach them, and she greets both of them with a kiss on the left cheek, a kiss on the right cheek.

“I’m in the mood for bubble tea,” Alya announces. “Who’s in?”

“Isn’t that really 2010?” says Marinette.

“Wow. Ouch. Seriously, girl.”

“I was just saying! But all right, bubble tea it is.”

As they saunter along the Seine, Marinette swallows three whole bobas accidentally, and Nino finds a way to use his own bobas as an effective missile, hitting his girlfriend with two of them. In return, Alya starts picking up dead leaves and throwing them at Nino. Marinette watches them, concentrating on her bubble tea intently, and when she feels Adrien’s eyes on her, she sends him a questioning glance.

“I’ve never seen someone drink bubble tea with such a determined look,” he tells her, smiling.

She swallows a whole bubble again. Coughing, she lets go of her straw. “And yet, I still can’t drink it properly.”

“It’s cute, though.” He is still smiling, but the shimmer of pink on his cheeks isn’t lost on her, and he looks away again quickly.

Feeling her whole face flame up, she stares at her bubble tea. “You’re too,” she mutters so quietly there’s no chance he heard her. Oh god, why is this so much easier with Chat? They are the same person, for god’s sake!

“Did you say something?”

She takes a breath. Doesn’t look up at him. “No. No, sorry.”

They turn back to Alya forming somehow actually useful missiles out of leaves, and Nino taking shelter behind one of the benches to escape her fierce attacks. It takes Marinette some time to realize they are at the exact same spot Adrien and she were at some long days ago, and her heart makes a wild jump. The memory is still so fresh that a lump builds in her throat. They share an awkward look before Marinette gets back to drinking her bubble tea.

“Uh, guys, bad news,” she hears Alya call to them. “But there’s a teenager-sitting emergency. My parents just texted me.”

“Oh.” Marinette doesn’t feel ready. But when will she ever?

“So sorry.” Half her bubble tea emptied, Alya approaches them, picking leaves out of her hair. Marinette moves to help her. “Would it be okay for Nino and me to go? I promise we’ll make up for it, okay?”

“Sure,” Adrien replies. “Don’t worry about us.”

“Yep! Good luck teenager-sitting.”

“We’ll need all the luck in the world with those two.” Alya rolls her eyes. “Okay then. See you both.” With the tiniest smile, Alya takes Marinette’s hand and squeezes it before turning around.

Nino waves at them from a distance as they walk away. And Marinette keeps standing where she is, frozen to a statue. How did Adrien do it? How did he just come out with the truth? How did he not falter and keep his mouth shut forever? How can he call her the bold one when really, she is the far bigger coward out of the two of them?

“So,” Adrien starts.

“So,” she offers too.

They look at each other. Turn to the Seine. The scene is so familiar that her heart is racing. Only that this time, she has some bubble tea in her hands which she dedicatedly starts to slurp, making sure to not swallow any more of her bobas. It works out fine. At least until there is nothing left in her plastic cup, and nervousness sets in again, hard and fast. After endless consideration, she realizes that she can’t run away forever, and she throws the cup into a nearby bin before joining Adrien’s side again.

So there they are, silently staring at the river.

“Ironic,” she mumbles.

“Ironic?” he asks.

Chat Noir, she reminds herself. Only Chat Noir. It helps to stare at the river instead of him as she talks, so she tries her best. “Well, just – do I have to prepare myself for another ramble about nameless hypothetical girls?”

A long second of silence. She almost thinks she has gone overboard, ready to apologize bashfully, when he replies. “You do that, and I prepare myself for the life-threatening mission of connecting a USB cable to its plug.”

She tries not to blush, and then, she tries not to laugh. “Don’t underestimate USB cables. You know, there is a legend that they are all cursed.”

“And that curse entails having to flip it over three times in order to successfully connect it. Am I right?”

“Only if you flip it after every unsuccessful attempt. That’s very important.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Glad I’m prepared now.”

There. It isn’t so hard. That’s still Chat Noir with all his silliness. And when she turns to look at him, their eyes meeting, something like warmth trickles through her. They are still standing next to each other, the same polite distance as always, and she isn’t sure if she wants to keep standing where she is or move closer to him, just a bit closer, just to remind herself who she really owes the truth to.

Even if it’s scary.

But she has to. She has to. So she opens her mouth, forcing her voice out. “Adrien, actually –”

“Marinette, I –”

They both go silent again. Look at each other. She gestures for him to go first, cheeks turning red as she has to avert her gaze for a second.

His eyes take her in, shining with something she can’t quite name. “I just wanted to – there’s … Sorry if I wasn’t always there for you the past few years. Even though you were always there for me. It’s …” He exhales soundly. “Just, sorry if there are things I missed. I shouldn’t have.”

She feels taken aback as she stares at him. “I don’t know what … But you were there for me?”

He laughs at her answer. “You really do have a good heart, Marinette. I mean it. I don’t deserve you.”

Familiar words. All of them. Her heart drops. He smiles at her, something fragile and easily breakable.

“I,” she tries. It gets stuck in her throat. “Adrien, I …”

“That was a bit much, huh?” He laughs bashfully, rubbing his neck. “Sorry. I just wanted you to know how important you are to me. In case you ever forget, you know?”

It really is too much. Her cheeks feel too warm. She knows the adoration in his voice. She knows it well enough, but still, it’s unreal.

“So, uh.” He takes one last look at her before turning to move on. “Up for a coffee? Or, are you hungry? I heard there’s a great place nearby, so …”

She could do it too. Move her feet, and follow him. Keep quiet again. Pretend nothing will ever change. Pretend it can all stay the same, forever. Never say it. Never find the courage. Keep him in the dark, and keep herself in the dark, too.

She isn’t sure how much longer she can do this.

The decision is made before she can say it, and when she does, her voice is only a meek whisper.

“Chat.”

For a torturously long second, she thinks he didn’t hear her. All her courage leaves her at once. But then he stops abruptly, his back still to her. She doesn’t know what to do. Her knees are suddenly too weak, and her breathing is too fast. There’s no room for doubts anymore. Not for her. But there is enough so for him, and she searches for her voice, tries and tries.

It’s all she can muster, though.

She isn’t prepared for the moment he turns around. She isn’t prepared for the way his face is mended into an expression of absolute innocence. Trying to pretend even though the walls should have fallen way too long ago. “I – sorry, what did you …?”

Oh god. She doesn’t know if she can do this. She just – it’s too much. Her hands clench to fists as she tries her hardest not to let her voice crack helplessly. “I know that … I know.”

His smile twitches just the tiniest bit. “Pardon?”

She can’t look him in the eye anymore. “You weren’t really discreet about it.”

Seconds of silence. The first hint of panic in his voice as he replies, steps separating them. “I – Marinette, listen. It was …” A nervous sound. She counts the pebbles lying in front of her shoes. “I shouldn’t have – oh god, I was being such an idiot, but –”

“You didn’t want to be on Tinder as Adrien Agreste, the model.”

A groan. She looks up to see him drag a hand over his face. “I … I just …”

“So you went on Tinder as –”

Hasty steps. Hands on her shoulders, warm and smothering. A breath gets stuck in her throat. Green, green eyes stare down at her, panic glittering behind them. “You can’t tell anyone. Please, Marinette, I trust you. But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

She feels a shiver bore itself into her stomach. “Because your girl could find out that way?”

“That, too, and –”

“Maybe she already knows.”

The words left her in quivering sounds. The words left her as tears start stinging in her eyes. Adrien keeps looking at her. The grip on her shoulders loosens. She doesn’t know if his panic is replaced by the tiniest shimmer of hope, or by a carefulness that hurts in her own chest.

She can’t continue. Her tongue becomes heavy and useless. She can’t, and in her stead, Adrien takes over again.

“How would she?” he asks, looking at her, looking at her so intensely she wants to turn away. She isn’t getting any air. Breath quickening, she escapes his grasp. Bringing distance between them again. Fiddling her fingers, her mind numb, her knees shaking.

Out with it. Just out with it. Because she owes it to him. She really does.

“The other night. When you asked me what I’m scared of, you remember?”

He doesn’t react. Doesn’t move, arms helplessly having dropped to his sides. It’s scary. But maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s finally time to face anything she’s so afraid of. So she takes a breath, tries to calm her heart, tries not to break apart right this moment.

“You were right. I’m scared.” Her voice is too quiet, but she can’t say it any louder. “I’m scared how much it could change. I’m scared – I’m scared it’s a mistake.” It streams out of her mouth, it makes tears form in her eyes, and he is still unmoving, but she can’t stop. Not anymore. “I’m scared that you’ll never forgive me for lying to you. I’m scared that I’m not who you want. I’m scared that you’ll be so disappointed that you’ll just leave. I’m scared, okay? I’m so scared. That everything will change, and that things can never be the same again, and that we’ll regret it. I’m scared I can’t be enough for you. I’m scared of letting you down. I’m scared that I made a mistake. That all you can see forever is a liar now. That I hurt you. That I hurt you so bad you will never forgive me. I’m so, so scared …” Her voice becomes quiet and shaky. “I’m – I’m so scared of losing you.”

Her breathing is too fast. She is feeling dizzy, and it takes her endlessly long to realize the tears have spilled over. She wipes them from her cheeks, buries her face in her hands. A sob shakes her body.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she croaks. “Please believe me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I didn’t – I didn’t know that to do, and it all became a mess, and I … I’m …”

She wants to sink into herself, but instead, she keeps standing where she is, waiting for him to sneer at her or leave her forever or tell her what a stupid idiot she really is.

And then his voice reaches her, fragile and warm, a little thing that shakes her to her very core.

“It’s you. It really is you, is it?”

She can’t look up. Can’t do anything but suppress another sob. “I’m so sorry.”

“No. No, I …” A faint breath of a voice. “Remember what I told you? That I hoped it’d be you? I meant it. I really did.”

It’s all wrong. It’s all so wrong that she feels her body shiver violently.

“I deceived you. I lied to you!” she brings out. Presses her palms harder against her eyes, sees stars dancing before blackness. “You still – you still hope it was me? Your partner, who lied to you that easily? You still think I’m that perfect? That I have a good heart? I don’t, Adrien, I …”

Steps in front of her. Fingers softly touching the back of her hands, pulling them away, holding on for a second longer. She is still staring at the ground though, staring at the tips of Adrien’s shoes in front of her. Her chest is heaving with her chipped breaths.

“Look at me, Marinette. Please.”

He sounds gentle, and kind, and she knows that she’ll have to face the music sooner or later. So she tentatively looks up. Her nose is running, and her lips are quivering, and she must look like the most pitiful, ugly creature in this world. But when she finally dares look at him, Adrien’s eyes are full of unbelievable awe, and his fingers catch tears from her cheeks with such tenderness that her heart thumps wildly in her chest. He isn’t supposed to look like this. He is supposed to be angry at her, and disappointed, and in disbelief. It doesn’t make sense. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“So I did get it right,” he whispers, the tiniest smile on his lips.

She stares at him, his warm hand leaving her skin, the loss enough to make her sob again. “I … From the beginning. I lied to you. I …” She sees him shift, and sudden panic takes hold of her whole body as she blindly reaches for his hand. When she realizes how stupid she is being, she jerks her hand back again, though.

“And still, I won. Didn’t I?” he responds quietly.

It takes her second to realize that his eyes are glazed over too. The sight shakes her body. He isn’t angry, it dawns on her. After everything. After making him doubt himself. After her hiding away like a coward, and his lack of any ire makes her so furious that her cheeks turn as hot as her tears.

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” It should have been a hiss, and it comes out as a meek whimper instead. “You should be mad at me. You should be!”

But all he does is stare at her with watery eyes, with such simple adoration that everything inside her flutters. “Marinette …”

“I deceived you. All this time. How can you not be mad at me? How can you –”

Warm hands returning to her cheeks. He is so close that she feels like melting under his palms. For an endlessly long moment, she thinks he is going to kiss her. Kiss all her doubts, her fears, her regrets away just like that. And she would have let him. But instead, he carefully drags his thumbs over her cheeks, his smile still tiny and warm.

“All that matters is that it’s you. It’s you, Marinette. You.” He exhales so shakily that her own heart is quivering. “And you’re trusting me enough to finally tell me. After all this time. After everything that happened. You trust me.”

Softly, she shakes her head, searching just for a hint on something in his green eyes. “Be mad at me. Please.”

A faint, airy laugh, full of desperation, full of renewed hope. She can hardly react as arms wrap around her, pulling her impossibly close. A new sob shakes her. She buries her face on his shoulder, not caring about the fact that she is probably going to ruin his coat.

“You’re not going to lose me,” his fragile voice reaches her. “Never. I promise, okay? You won’t.”

“Adrien,” she presses out, shaking hands clutching at him in an attempt not to fall apart on the spot. “I’m … Please forgive me. Please.”

“I do. I forgive you.” Softly, he strokes the back of her head, his warm breath on her temple. “Just please don’t cry, Marinette. I can’t stand to see you like this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Adrien, I’m so …”

“Marinette. It’s okay. I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.”

She presses herself closer to him, feeling tears well up anew, his words soothing her heart in the most beautiful way she could have ever imagined.

 

It’s embarrassing. She shouldn’t have broken down like this, she thinks as she stares into the mirror, her eyes puffy and red. She should have handled this like an adult. She was ready to be heartbroken, she really was, and the moment he accepted her, everything of her, just like that, without batting an eyelid …

Her heart is still beating too fast.

Marinette takes a deep breath and exits the bathroom. Before she joins Adrien on the sofa, she hears a silent conversation, and she stops at the doorframe, leaning against it as she watches blonde hair being mused by nervous fingers.

“There’s a concept called Freudian slip, and I do think that’s what happened here,” Tikki’s high-pitched voice reaches her ears.

“What, Sugarcube became a fully-fledged therapist all of a sudden?” A ball of black floats in front of Adrien’s face, joined by Tikki in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t call me – no, I am not. Contrary to you, I’m keeping a very watchful eye on human behavior, that’s all!”

Adrien laughs. The sound makes Marinette’s stomach do a funny flip. “Ladybug giving Chat Noir a superlike of her own accord? Right.”

His tone causes Marinette to bite her lip. That’s what he still thinks, huh?

“No!” Tikki flares up. “I mean – yes! A Freudian slip implies that the other party –”

“I think he knows what you mean, Sugarcube. Can’t say it wasn’t amusing, though. ’Cause what did your cute protégé call my kiddo? A fuck-”

“Don’t!” Tikki squeals. “I only told you because you wouldn’t stop pestering me about details!”

“She called me what?” Adrien chimes in.

Okay. Okay, too much. Marinette coughs very inconspicuously. At that, both kwamis and Adrien turn to her.

“Guess that’s our cue, Tikki. We’ve got ourselves a little eavesdropper here.” Plagg is looking in Marinette’s direction, eyes narrowing as he gives her a cheeky smile. She tries not to blush. “Nice to meet you again, Marinette.”

Adrien smiles at her, rolling his eyes. “He kept talking a lot about you, you know.”

“Sure did. Really kept my kiddo here on his paws, didn’t you, Ladybug?” Snickering, Plagg floats towards the ceiling. “Sugarcube. There’s some details we really gotta talk about.”

“I’m not going to create a farm specializing on camembert production and build it up to become the world’s most renowned cheese factory in a matter of three to four decades, Plagg. Even if I lost the bet.”

“Aw, you’re so boring. But did you really think your goody two-shoes would let the cat out of the bag first?”

“I learned a lot about rhetorical questions. Was that one?”

“Oh man. You can be handful, Tikki.”

The two kwamis disappear for good. All that is left are her and Adrien, and a weird kind of silence between them.

“I made you some tea?” Adrien offers as he gestures to the steaming cups in front of him. “I guessed you’d like peppermint.”

She feels herself blush up to her hairline. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” He blinks innocently at her.

“Know all those details about me. It’s …”

“Like, the fact that plain croissants are your favorite pastry?” He grins at her. “As plain as they can get?”

Groaning, Marinette rubs the bridge of her nose before coming closer, flopping down onto the sofa. Again, polite distance. This time, his eyes don’t seem to let go of her though, and she shrugs helplessly. “I’m – I panicked. I’m sorry.”

His smile softens. “You remember when we fought that akuma that turned everything pink?”

“The one that even turned your suit into a glittery pink one? Yep, I actually liked that one.”

“Exactly. You said you wouldn’t mind leaving everything like it is. That’s how I guessed your favorite color. Just made the most sense.”

It’s odd. Hearing him talk about what should be their other lives. Her eyes dart over his face, trying to see the similarities. She remembers that one kiss they shared, that one kiss so long ago, one he can’t even remember. Suddenly and without warning, she finds herself dying to taste his lips again.

“And the tea?” he continues. She flinches, eyes meeting again, and she hopes to god he didn’t notice her staring. “I just saw your three packages of peppermint tea in your cupboard. That’s all.”

“Oh,” she breathes. “Very perceptive.”

A grin builds on his lips. “Thank you, my lady. I’m doing my best.”

The term of endearment makes a shudder climb over her back. “Guess I wasn’t always that careful as Ladybug, huh?”

“You were very careful. But nothing escapes my watchful eye if it’s regarding the girl I love.”

She jumps. Looks at him. It was always a simple truth. Chat loves her, and she can’t love him back. It was always easy, and safe. The feeling of falling is scary, but so freeing she wants to laugh. Her face is burning up as their eyes meet, and he quickly looks away from her, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry. This – I know you’re trying to – well, you told me – ah, you know.”

“I know what?” she asks, watching him take his cup into nervous hands.

“You know.” He doesn’t look at her, blowing steam away. “Because you’re, uh, trying to … trying to get over me.”

Oh. She doesn’t know what to do with her hands. With her voice. With her words. She sinks into her corner of the sofa, bending her knees and drawing them closer to her body. To think that all this time – just all this time – and as she watches him staring at his cup, a slight shimmer of joyless amusement on his face, something stirs in her, violently and fiercely.

He sighs deeply. “I’m sorry. I should have noticed sooner.”

She wraps her arms around her knees, looking at anything but him. “I – oh god, this is so embarrassing,” she groans as she hides her face away.

“For me? Yes, it is. I am the idiot of the story.”

She bites her lip, still unable to look at him. “I told you. You are not an idiot for … for, um. Not seeing me in the same light.”

A long second of silence. Then he laughs shakily.

“I really thought this was about Luka.”

“What was?”

“Well, the … the Tinder thing.”

At that, she sharply lifts her head. “You thought I needed to get over Luka?”

“With how close you seem …”

She blinks. “That’s why – is that why you – you wanted to …”

“I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. That’s all.”

It’s not like she ever gave Adrien another impression. Or like she ever told him what she really feels. He was blind to it, and she kept quiet. It was stupid. And all for what? Looking at him now, knowing that he adores her that much, just for what? Because the height seemed too scary? Because all of it could have fallen apart?

Somehow, it’s so stupid that it’s not even funny anymore. So she takes a breath and finds her courage.

“You told me something. Back at the Seine. When you tried to – when you told me – you said you fell for me all over again.”

He gives a bashful laugh. “Too straightforward, huh? I’m sorry.”

“You were – were you serious?”

His amusement dies down, but he still doesn’t glance at her. It’s the only response she needs.

Marinette pauses. Looks at him. Really looks at him. He saw her so easily. He fell into it with all his heart. Risked it all just because he believed in it, and in her. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense that he forgives her, just like this. That he accepts her fears, and her selfishness, and accepts her just like she is. With all her flaws, with every little thing that might hold her back, and her heart is bursting as she slides closer. Closer, closer, bridging always polite distance, familiarity giving her the courage she needs. Until he looks up in confusion, until she grabs his face, until she realizes there is nothing much she can give him back. Nothing but herself.

So she kisses him.

When she pulls back, she is met by widened green eyes, by a wonder that makes her shiver. Her breath is quivering as she leans in again, but before their lips can meet, he utters a hectic, “Wait.”

Marinette lets go of him as if having burned her hands on his warm skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to –”

His cup clatters as he puts it back on the table so hastily tea sloshes over the rim. But before she can complain, his hands are on his cheeks, and his lips crash against hers. She gives a sound as the sudden momentum makes her fall back, and she lands on the sofa, Adrien following shortly behind. Finding purchase on either side of her face, he stares at her from above, wide-eyed.

“Are you okay? Sorry, I –”

She can’t help it. She has to laugh, nervous energy making it hard to control herself as she wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m okay. Very okay.”

Before he can answer, she pulls him towards her again until their lips meet. He gives a noise that makes her shiver, a hand stroking her cheek softly. Urgency melts into tenderness, and they shift until they lie side by side, pressed close on the narrow sofa, the feeling of his body against hers entirely new and familiar all the same.

“Maybe,” she whispers between kisses, her nose brushing his, “I, too, fell for you all over again.”

He laughs against her lips, pressing another kiss against them, his hands sliding from her cheeks until they wind around her waist. “Fell for my charm, princess?”

“I fell for your unnecessary posters.” Rolling her eyes, she leans back again, her hands on his shoulder. “I mean, seriously? Your system didn’t even make sense.”

Adrien blinks at her, wide-eyed and innocent. “It made perfect sense! If you would have played fair …”

At that, she looks away. “I … I know. I …”

“No. No, sorry, I didn’t …” Warm hands softly guide her to look at him again. He grins at her, eyes glowing. “Still managed to get it right despite that, didn’t I? Aren’t I the cat’s meow?”

She stares at him. Laughs. Oh god, she adores him. God, she does. She does so much that she feels like crying again. “You’re such a dork,” she whispers instead, voice quivering, her sight becoming blurry.

Her reaction seems to make him almost panic, and he strokes her cheek with hasty fingers. “A good dork, I hope? Right? Or a stupid dork who needs to apologize again?”

“A very good dork,” she replies, “who really needs a lesson on how Tinder is supposed to work.”

Her words conjure a smile on his lips. “Having you right here,” he says, leaning forward until his forehead can rest against hers, “do you really think I’d need one ever again?”

Her heart is bursting, just like that. She has to close her eyes for a second. “Oh, my kitty. You’re way too much.”

He exhales shakily. “Your kitty.”

“My,” she lets her lips brush his, “perfect,” she kisses the corner of his mouth, “adorable,” she kisses the other corner of his mouth, “wonderful,” she kisses his lips, “beautiful …”

She can’t go on as hands tangle in her hair, softly pulling her closer until his lips taste hers, tentatively, carefully. It’s unreal, knowing who she is kissing. It doesn’t make sense, and it always did. It’s scary, but the best thing that could happen to her. It feels full of tiny beautiful specks, of little feelings dancing through her stomach. No one could ever know her like he does. No one could catch her every time like he would. No one but him. It’s him. It has never been anyone but him.

 

“Don’t.”

Something holds on to her T-shirt before she can even attempt to climb out of the bed. When she turns her head, she sees Adrien lazily blinking at her, a cat being comfortable under the sheets, unwilling to let her go. She smiles at him, sliding closer again to press a kiss against his forehead, and in response, he purrs as his arms wind around her.

“I have to pee,” she whispers to him.

“You don’t.”

“I really do.”

“No,” he whines, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I won’t let you go.”

“You’re so silly,” she laughs, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The heat of his body against hers. The morning sun is already kissing his hair, drenching it in golden light. “I’m glad you never gave one of those girls a chance. They’d have rather kicked each other’s teeth out than letting you get away from them, I bet.”

His grip tightens a bit. “So you were jealous.”

She lets out a huff. “After you were so nice to any girl on there? No matter how horribly they treated you? I wasn’t jealous. I was worried.”

“You’re cute when you’re being jealous, my lady.”

“I told you – I wasn’t jealous!”

“Mm-hmm.” He chuckles against her skin. The vibrating sound makes her stomach tingle. Wet lips press against her neck, sending a spark of electricity through her whole body. “I wanted to kiss you so bad. That night I fell asleep on your chaise. You looked so beautiful, blushing all over. God, I think that was the moment it really hit me. How much I wanted you to be the girl I loved for so long.”

How can he say that so easily? Her heart flutters, and she needs endless seconds to even form a syllable on her useless tongue. That is, until his lips wander further, careful fingers shoving the fabric of her shirt out of the way to kiss her collarbone.

“Say,” he mumbles. “When was that moment for you? When you saw my pictures on Tinder and couldn’t resist matching with me?”

She releases a quivering breath as a warm hand sneaks under her shirt. “Don’t be so smug, kitty.”

Fingertips dance over her back. She shivers, her hand finding on purchase on his arm as his kisses wander to her shoulder. “Or when you started texting me, never letting me wait for a reply for too long?”

“Adrien,” she says warningly, even though his hand on her naked waist is doing strange, wonderful things to her head.

“Or when you kept glaring at those girls’ pictures as if you wanted to rip all of them to shreds?”

Okay. That’s enough. She pushes him away as she wiggles out of the sheets, ignoring how he tries to hold her back once more. “I have to pee, and while I’m away, you will be a good kitten and think about how absolutely uncalled for your teasing is.”

He looks after her, a smirk on his way too handsome face, hair mused and the sheet barely concealing his naked upper body. “As if you could resist me for too long, bugaboo.”

She hates that he is right.

“Wow. I can’t believe some girls would voluntarily superlike you.”

“Yeah. Maybe all of them would chalk it up to an accident.”

From the door of her room, she glares at him. “It was an accident.”

A cough. “Sure. Exactly what your kwami said, too.”

“Tikki is just trying to be funny, that’s all!”

“Yup, totally.”

The need to pee is stronger than the urge to get that infuriating grin off his face, so she only keeps glaring at him. “This isn’t over, Agreste.”

“Counting on it, pretty princess.”

God damn it. Chat and his freaking smugness. It’s a side of Adrien she never saw, those hungrily glowing eyes and that little grin sitting on his lips, and god. She can’t get enough of it.

Quickly, she opens the door to the living room. Alya still hasn’t brought all her stuff here, and Adrien and her should be alone in the apartment, as far as she knows – until she taps into the hallway, discovering that the front door is opened and that several boxes are stacked there.

She didn’t even hear that from her own room. Goddamn thick walls.

“Marinette!” Alya calls from outside the apartment, putting another box down. “Didn’t know you were sleeping here. Sorry, did we wake you –” Then her eyes land on something on Marinette’s neck, and her jaw goes slack. “Girl.”

Nervousness makes Marinette’s hair stand on end as she slaps a hand over her neck. “W-what?”

“Why didn’t you text me that you would be …” Helplessly, Alya gesticulates in the general direction of Marinette’s room. “You just told me everything is fine! I thought you’d awkwardly go on a date or something, not jump right into it! Oh god, I would have left you – you should have told me!”

“Alya!” Marinette hisses back. “We didn’t – we just – we made out! Nothing more than that, only smoochage, a lot of nice smoochage, I swear!”

Alya lifts her eyebrows. “Yeah. I can see that.”

“I – I have to –” With a stiff grin, Marinette slides away, eventually locking herself into the toilet. When she peeks into the mirror, she sees the reason for Alya’s quick understanding. There is an enormous, blueish hickey right on her neck. Great.

And as soon as she sits down on the toilet and glances at her legs for a moment, she startles. Numerous blue marks are covering her pale skin, she discovers as dread is forming in her chest.

She suppresses the very strong, very pressing urge to scream her lungs out.

Okay. No biggie. She’ll just inconspicuously sneak back into her room and tear Adrien a new one. There, and every problem solved just like that. Her shorts don’t really cover the marks at all, and she has absolutely nothing to hide them with, but she can manage. It’s totally all right.

So she cautiously opens the door. No one in sight. Great. She slowly steps into the living room, aware of her surroundings. Nothing is happening. Nothing but the cluttering of her cupboard, and when she turns her head, she sees Adrien pulling out a mug.

Steps in the hallway. Panic mode sets in. “Duck!” she hisses.

“What?” Adrien turns around. “Where?”

“No! I mean, down!” At his confused look, she decidedly slams her hands on the kitchen island. “Now!”

He listens. Finally. And not a moment too late, it turns out, because when she whirls around again, none other than Luka is carrying one of the boxes into Alya’s room. With the confidence of a goddess, Marinette stumbles behind the kitchen island to hide her marks, sending Luka a very natural smile. Their eyes meet, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Good morning, Marinette. We thought you wouldn’t be here, sorry.”

“Yep, spontaneous decision, you know. I just –”

His eyes are on her neck. Only for a second, before he smiles a little and moves on. “I see. Spontaneous.”

Shit. Her cheeks turn so hot she is slowly starting to overheat, and she slaps a hand over the hickey again. “It’s not what it looks like!” she calls after him, and when he doesn’t react at all, she gives a desperate sound and crouches, hidden from any pair of curious eyes.

And face to face with the fiend himself.

“Are you serious?” she hisses, pointing at her neck, then at her thighs. “Was that really necessary?”

His eyes slowly wander over her body, down to her legs. The look alone is sending a hot wave through her. He regards the marks he left with something like odd pride. Their eyes meet again after endless seconds, and he noticeably tries to smother his smirk, his expression speaking of endless innocence.

“Woops. Accident,” he whispers back. “Just like your superlike, I guess.”

Her body feels way too hot. “Adrien, I swear to god –”

“Well, you gotta admit – didn’t sound like you didn’t enjoy it, pretty princess.”

She is overheating entirely. “And telling me I can’t leave any marks on you!” She tries to smother her voice down to a whisper, huddling closer to him. “You’re being a bastard, and you know it.”

“To be fair,” he leans closer, his voice breaking over her lips, “if I had known the others would be here today …”

“You would have had mercy on me?”

He chuckles as he presses a kiss against her lips. And just like that, she is melting entirely, a little sigh escaping her. “Regarding the hickeys, maybe. The rest, though …”

“Don’t think this is over,” she mutters, her fingers reaching up to rake through his hair. “You’ll pay for this.”

“I’m already quivering in anticipation, my –”

She kisses him roughly, about to climb his lap and rile him up in the best way she knows how, when she suddenly feels his hands on her shoulders pushing her back. Confused, she moves away. When she looks at Adrien, she sees him blinking at something above them, and only slowly and mechanically, she turns her head.

So, while they are huddled against the kitchen counter on the cold tile floor, three pairs of eyes watch them from the kitchen island, leaning against it with their eyebrows raised.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Luka echoes her words.

Marinette blinks. “Uh. Yep.”

“Two minutes and seven seconds until you noticed you’re not really being subtle nor quiet, my dudes.” Nino shakes his head, tapping against his wristwatch while he’s at it.

“What a surprise,” Alya drawls. “So, if you’re finished getting it on on our kitchen floor, you could maybe help us out?”

Quickly, Marinette scrambles off Adrien, showing her best smile. When she notices that everyone could have a glance at her thighs that way, she hides behind Adrien, still smiling. Even though his cheeks are just as red as hers feel. “Sure thing! Gladly! Absolutely!”

Luka’s eyes shine with amusement as he moves away. “Told him to help you with the lightbulbs, hm?”

“HDMI cable,” Adrien coughs.

Luka coughs too. “Wow.”

With an eyeroll, Alya finally leaves them be. She drags Nino with her. “Please don’t tell me you’ll have a go at it every single evening from now on. For my birthday, I want quality earplugs. Maybe even designer ones. Use your connections, hot stuff.”

“No worries,” Adrien returns, helping Marinette up to her feet. As he replies, he is giving Marinette a little smile. Her whole face is burning up. “I’ll have my own place soon anyway.”

“Hey, sunshine. Don’t you dare take my bestie away after we just barely moved in together, you hear me?”

“Great,” Nino sighs. “Now his sudden swooning will get even worse. You know I love you, bro, but if I gotta hear one more time how cute Marinette looks when she fumbles for words …”

Marinette blushes so hard she feels like fainting. “You said – when?”

“Oh, you never wondered why Adrien suddenly had enough free time to help us almost every day when he’s usually such a busy model?” Alya grins at them over the box she is carrying. “Yeah. Weird, right?”

She stares. Then she whirls her head around, discovering Adrien rubbing his neck, pointedly evading her gaze. It takes her a while to verbalize it, but when she does, a mixture of amusement and disbelief colors her voice.

“You were crushing on me,” she realizes.

“Well, I just …” He ducks his head. “I told you that I … There was a reason I hoped …”

Her heart bounces in her chest. She grabs his hand, softly tugging him along as she hurries to her room. “We’ll be right back!” she calls over her shoulder, ignoring Nino’s amused grin and Alya’s deep sigh.

“Just keep it down, children,” she tells them.

“We’ll put in some very loud Ariana Grande for you,” Luka joins in, amusement apparent in his voice.

Marinette doesn’t pay them any attention. She shuts the door behind her, then turns around to Adrien. His cheeks are still red, and he fidgets a bit on the spot, and it’s somehow so adorable that she can’t help but gently take ahold of his face, guiding him to look at her. Green eyes she could get lost in, returning her look.

“All that talk about not deserving me,” she whispers, dragging her thumbs over his skin, “and in truth, I am the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

He gulps. Leans into her touch. “You know that’s not true.”

“Adrien …” The words collect on her tongue, needing to get out, needing to reach him. “You’re kind, and so considerate, and you always try to do the right thing, and – you know … If it wasn’t for you, Chat Noir would have swept me off my feet sooner or later anyway.”

He laughs, closing his eyes as she keeps caressing his skin. “You think so?”

“With how wonderful and thoughtful he is … With how he tries to respect people as much as he can …” She kisses the tip of his nose, making him smile. The sight makes her heart burst. “With how Ladybug is an absolute idiot for never giving him a chance, even though she didn’t even deserve his adoration …”

“See, that’s not the truth either.”

“It is,” she breathes. “She doesn’t deserve you.” Before he can protest, she gives him a chaste kiss. “I don’t deserve you.” Another kiss on the corner of his mouth. “God, I really don’t. I …”

Before she can go on, his lips find hers. Again, again, until she becomes almost breathless. His forehead meets hers. “And if I had known …” He pauses.

“That I’m Ladybug?”

A little smile forms on his lips. “That you, Marinette, of all people want to be with me …”

Her heart flutters. She lets her hands slide to his hair, presses a kiss to his cheek, moves to his ear. “Then what?”

“Then,” his arms wrap around her, holding her as tightly as possible, “Ladybug would have had to deal with some serious competition.”

She kisses his cheek again. Can’t smother the smile on her lips anymore. “I bet she wouldn’t have liked that very much.”

“You think she would have been jealous?”

“And how.”

“Glad she doesn’t have to be,” he says, and turns his head until he can kiss her for good.

And to think she was afraid of falling –

Being in Adrien’s arms, she has never felt more secure, more complete in all her life.

Notes:

And it’s finally done!

Thank you all so much for your continuous support. Every single kudo, bookmark, comment, and subscription means a lot to me, and I hope you had just as much fun reading this as I had writing it. Your wonderful feedback really kept me going.

I love talking to all of you, so if anyone is on the MLB fanworks discord, you can find me there – feel free to send me a message anytime!

Happy holidays to you all!