Chapter Text
One week later, Adrien was meeting Marinette at her apartment with a small bouquet of pink roses.
“For me?” Marinette gushed overdramatically, clearly mocking him with her tone.
“For your mother, actually.”
“My mother?” She seemed oddly shocked. “You really didn’t have to.”
“I’m meeting my girlfriend’s parents, real or not real.” He smiled, feeling nerves catching in his chest.
“Oh God.” Marinette shook her head. “She’s going to love you.”
Adrien chuckled, offering the short woman his arm for her to take. “I was thinking we could walk today?”
Marinette nodded, and the two began their journey along the streets of Paris to her parent’s home, where Adrien hoped many croissants would be waiting for them.
And he could tell by the delectable smell of fresh pastries that met his senses when the two approached the bakery, that it was going to be a good day.
Marinette had set up lunch plans, and this time around, it was Adrien’s turn to stress and hyper-fixate on his appearance. He had been in this bakery a million times, but this was the first time he put any real thought into it. Plagg had watched the blonde man change his outfit four times that morning, and Adrien had to duck away from his pesky pet when leaving his apartment to avoid collecting any stray cat hairs on his meticulously pressed shirt.
Adrien let out a deep breath as they walked up to the door, gripping the flowers tight in his hand. Marinette paused before stepping into the shop. “Nervous?” She asked, glancing up at him.
“Nah,” He smirked at her, rolling his shoulders back. “You know me, I don’t get nervous about this kind of thing.”
She rolled her eyes at his response. “Alright player, let’s head in then.”
“Wait!” Adrien held his arm out in front of her, quickly fixing his hair in the reflection of the window in the next-door shop. “Alright, now we can head in.”
Marinette laughed, shaking her head as she walked in, Adrien following behind her like a timid lost child. Her parents were standing behind the counter, and the black-haired girl flipped over the ‘ouvert ’ sign to ‘fermé ’ before rushing over to the older couple.
“Maman!” She cried, embracing her mother, before turning to her father to do the same, kissing both of their cheeks twice.
“Is this him?” Sabine Cheng said to Marinette in a hushed voice, eyeing Adrien with a sly smile. “Chouchou, he is handsome!”
“Maman! ” Marinette snapped, giggling.
“Adrien Agreste,” Tom Dupain walked over to him, offering a firm handshake with a smile, before slapping his back in commodery. The blonde boy knew that Marinette had lovely parents, but he couldn’t help but be a bit taken aback at how friendly they both seemed.
“Hello, Monsieur.” He smiled, shaking the terrifyingly tall man’s hand. Adrien had always regarded himself as well above average when it came to height, but under Tom’s large build, he felt like a fourteen-year-old boy again. “These are for you, ma’am.” The young man smiled, turning to Sabine as he held out the bouquet of pink roses.
Sabine absolutely gushed at that, pulling Adrien into an embrace and kissing both of his cheeks like the two were old friends. After accepting the flowers, she turned to say something to Marinette in Mandarin that made a crimson blush heat up her cheeks as she facepalmed, responding with a nagging ‘Maman!’. Dammit, Adrien should’ve paid better attention when studying Mandarin all those years back.
The pair were quickly ushered upstairs, where lunch was already being baked in the oven. “Welcome! Sit, sit!” Sabine said to the two, motioning to the sofas in their den. Marinette sat down on one of the loveseats, but with Tom eyeing Adrien, he made the Einstein decision to take a seat in one of the sofa chairs instead of sitting next to her.
“Adrien,” Tom Dupain began, leaning forward in his seat. “Marinette tells me that the two of you have been seeing each other recently.”
“Yes sir,” Adrien tried to relax his shoulders, nervous he would say something to throw the man off.
“For a few months now, Papa,” Marinette chirped, stretching the truth slightly.
“And we are only now just meeting you?”
“Tom,” Sabine said sternly to her husband, before offering Adrien an encouraging smile.
“It’s alright,” Adrien smiled at the woman, “I understand your reluctance, however with my– with both of our public notoriety, we wished to create a strong enough bond before disclosing our relationship to others.”
“Yes,” Marinette sat up, “And truly, father, Adrien wanted to meet you both, he was only just– protecting me from the paparazzi. I would’ve introduced you sooner if the media hadn’t been such a factor.”
Adrien glanced at the pale girl, holding back from raising his brows at her. He supposed it only made sense for her to jump to defend him, of course, she wished for her parents to like Adrien just as much as he did.
“You went to school with our Marinette, correct?” Sabine smiled at the blonde boy.
“Yes ma’am,” He nodded. “We had classes together throughout high school.”
“Yes, I remember.” The woman laughed. “You came by our bakery often. In fact, I always thought Marinette had quite a schoolgirl crush on you, with the way she avoided you!”
“Maman! ” Marinette facepalmed again, which only made Adrien’s grin widen.
Adrien let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “Well, that is news to me. As far as I’m aware, the two of us shared quite the childhood rivalry throughout our school years!”
“And trust me,” Marinette corrected sternly, “Mutual disdain was all I felt for Adrien!” The blonde man blinked at the girl, tilting his head to the side as if to remind her that she was supposed to be acting like a lovesick fool, not defending herself against some type of schoolgirl infatuation. Marinette cleared her throat before correcting herself, “That was, of course, before Adrien and I recently reconnected,”
“Yes. And I suppose we both realized we had grown out of our childish grudges.” He looked at the black-haired girl, studying her features. “And I can say that I honestly found her quite– wonderful.”
The two stared at each other, and something bloomed in Marinette’s eyes for no more than half a second before she blinked and broke away, plastering on a wide smile for her parents. “And likewise for me!”
“Well,” Tom smiled, squeezing Sabines’s hand. “You both seem very content. And Adrien, you have grown into quite a charming young man.”
“Thank you, sir.” He smiled.
Tom slapped his hands on his thighs in typical dad fashion before standing up with a grin. “I hope you like cassoulet!”
Adrien’s mouth was nearly drooling by the time the four of them sat around the small table in their quaint kitchen as Sabine served their plates.
Marinette’s mother whispered more indirect flattery to her daughter after Adrien offered to help her serve lunch. And she had nearly melted into a puddle when at the end of lunch, Adrien insisted on being the one to wash the dishes.
Both couples bid their goodbyes’ and Adrien stared curiously at the way Marinette’s parents practically draped off of each other. It was endearing, truly, yet also unlike anything he had ever seen with his parents when his mother was still around, even when Adrien was a young boy.
“So, Chouchou, ” Adrien teased, lightly tugging at one of Marinette’s pigtails as they left the building, “Do you think they liked me?”
“Okay, I am immediately shutting down that nickname,” Marinette said sternly, which only made him grin. “But yes, I know my father approved.”
“And your mother?”
“Oh, my mother absolutely adores you.” Marinette looked up at him, linking her arm with his almost absentmindedly. “And if it didn’t help us with our scheme, that would be one of the most annoying things in the world.”
“What can I say? Mom’s loves me.” Adrien winked, and Marinette violently poked at his ribs in retort.
“Did Sabine totally freak?” Alya asked, her mouth shoved full of macaroons.
“Oh, she was completely gushing at everything he did.” Marinette laughed, dabbing her napkin to her mouth. “It’s like Adrien has the secret code to meeting parents. He washed the dishes after lunch and everything!”
“Hm, seems like you could learn a thing or two!” Alya eyes Nino, who threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Hey! It’s not my fault we only ever order takeout!” He cried.
Marinette laughed, straightening the pile of papers in her hands before spreading them out on the cafe table. “Anyways,” she began, meticulously sorting them. “I’m going to have the boys come over this weekend and get all their measurements, but before I do, I just want to confirm that you guys like these designs. The groomsmen are going to be wearing very basic black suits with navy ties and pocket squares, but I did something a little different for the best man.”
Alya and Nino both leaned forward, studying the designs. Marinette’s fingers nervously twisted in her lap as she couldn’t hold herself back from speaking again. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything unique for Adrien’s tux, but since the maid of honour dress is different I just thought that maybe–”
“It’s perfect.” Alya smiled up at the girl.
“Yeah dude– I mean, Marinette. If I am going to be looking devilishly handsome, I only hope the same for my bros.” Nino nodded approvingly.
Marinette’s shoulders relaxed, relief washing over her. “Great! The rest of the fabrics arrived two days ago, so after I get the men’s measurements–” She peered over her notes, silently confirming the time frame with herself before clicking her pen closed, “–I should have the entire wedding party's attire finished by the end of July!” Which she anxiously knew was only three weeks away. Meaning her own proposal was merely five weeks away.
“You’re the absolute best, Girl!” Alya praised, grinning widely.
“Yeah!” Nino agreed. “This is going to be the most kickass wedding ever !”
Marinette smiled, collecting her sketches. “I’m happy to contribute.”
Adrien sat in his office, reviewing what he thought to be one of the strangest children’s book ideas yet. “Hey, look at this one,” he cocked his head to Marinette, who was sitting by one of the windows, her face cradled in her hands.
“I’m sick of hearing about these story prompts.” She groaned. “I am so bored. When can we leave for lunch?”
“Just like I told you on the phone, the reservations are for one-thirty. It’s not my fault you showed up early.”
“Well, I was bored at home too.” She mumbled, childishly dragging her feet over to Adrien, feigning interest in what he was looking at.
“‘The Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir’ ” He read aloud, looking up at her as she leaned over his desk. “It’s about two teens who moonlight as Parisian superheroes. What do you think?”
“Is it your idea?” She asked.
“No, I don’t write any of the books Marinette.” He chuckled, “I only approve of them.”
“Don’t you have employees who can do that for you? I thought that the whole thing that made being a CEO so great was not having to do any real work.”
“I like reading the submissions,” He turned back to his computer, scrolling through the first few pages.
“I mean, the idea is cute.” She said, peering over his shoulder as they simultaneously read the first chapter together. “Though, I think it’s missing something.”
“Like what?” He asked.
“Well,” Marinette leaned forward, reaching her arm over him as she lightly slapped his hand away from the mouse, scrolling a few more chapters down. “I think if the author added a more relatable element, this story could be marketed towards young teens instead. Why not have some type of unrequited love stuff happen between the pair? Like, they don’t know who each other are when they are out of costume, and develop feelings for the opposite versions of themselves or something.”
“Doesn’t that take away from the plot a bit?” He asked, ignoring how Marinette was pressed forward against his upper back.
“Nah, it adds dimension. And I think your teen audience would enjoy it! You know, miscommunication, unrequited feelings, slow burn, who doesn’t love that shit?” She stood back up straight, moving to sit on his desk next to his computer instead, (which Adrien had told her not to do at least a million times by now).
“I mean, it’s not a terrible idea.” He shrugged, drafting an email to the author to make some changes.
“See? I’m awesome. Now, can we please go to lunch?” She stared at him, dramatically pouting, “Or else I will start calling you Mr. Agreste again.”
Her words had Adrien closing his tabs and standing up in seconds. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.” He said, holding his arm out and rolling his eyes. “You incessant woman.” He mumbled behind her, and Marinette tossed him a prideful grin over her shoulder.
“The gala is getting really close.” Marinette sipped on her strawberry daiquiri.
“Getting cold feet?” Adrien raised a mocking brown, forking pasta into his mouth.
“Ha.” She shook her head. “No amount of cold feet could ever get me to walk away from a quarter million euros.”
“I’m starting to worry you may be using me for my money.”
“And I’m starting to worry that you may have been dropped on your head a few too many times as a child.” She retorted, taking a large bite of her own white sauce pasta.
“Very funny Marinette.”
“I’m not joking.” She laughed, shaking her head. “But in all seriousness, what is this gala even for? Paris Fashion Week was last month.”
“My father’s introducing a new line of men’s athletic wear or something like that.” He shrugged. “But it just seems like shapewear in my opinion.”
“And are you sure that that’s the best place for–” she looked around, bringing her voice to a whisper, “for a proposal?”
He raised his brows, a sincere expression on his face now. “Marinette, do you actually want to back out of this?”
“What?!” She laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “No!”
“I’m serious Marinette.” He focused in on her, making her feel all too uncomfortable under his gaze. “Because if you’re wanting out, just say the word.”
A million thoughts rushed through her mind as she considered all the possible outcomes depending on how she answered him. But ultimately, she shook her head, sighing as she took another much-needed sip of her drink. “I’m not wanting out. I’m just wondering if it’s too soon. I mean, your father, he might–”
“I do not want you worrying about my father,” Adrien said sternly. “I don’t care what he thinks. Whether it’s about you or me or the legitimacy of the both of us, he has no place infiltrating your thoughts in any manner.”
Marinette nodded, taking his hand from across the table for any passerby to see. She ignored the way he gently rubbed circles into her palm with his thumb in response.
“I just feel like we should show up at some more events before your father’s gala.” She shook her head. “The dinners and lunches are obviously working paparazzi-wise, but there’s no way this is reaching anyone other than our friends, family, and teenage girls who are obsessed with you.”
Adrien snorted, shaking his head. “Oh God, don’t remind me. But why does it matter? This is all so my father and his financial lawyers are convinced, nobody else.”
Marinette chewed on her bottom lip, refraining from pulling her hand out of Adrien’s grip. She didn’t know what to say. The truth was, she felt somewhat stupid with all these blog posts and paparazzi photos. She was barely just now submerging into the fashion empire, finally becoming a well-known name of notoriety amongst the big-name designers, and she was terrified that all this publicity was making her out to be just a silly girl. One of the many silly girls that had been draped off of Adrien’s arm in similar posts before. Maybe if she could actually attend a high-profile event with Adrien, she could be seen as a woman to take seriously, and not as some trophy.
Alya’s bog at least tried to mention the two of their recent career milestones along with her romantic tell-alls on the two of them. Still, nearly every other publisher simply gushed about Adrien for paragraphs on paragraphs, and then attached links to photos of the pair, with quips on Adrin’s “new girl” he was spotted with.
But of course, she would never say any of this to Adrien. He would think she was selfish, and maybe even egotistical. She was about to be a quarter million richer, and here she was complaining about feeling a little objectified? No, Marinette would not bear herself to him as that kind of person.
“No reason.” She shrugged, “I just think that Gabriel might think you are taking me a little more seriously if you start bringing me to more high-profile events, y’know, before blindsighting him with a proposal.”
She felt bad, she did, for lying.
“If that’s what you really want, then we can make some appearances.” He said casually. “I know that there is a show for the men’s and haute couture next Friday.”
“Perfect.” Marinette smiled, her leg was bouncing under the table. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “On a different note, I met with Alya and Nino earlier this week. They approved of the designs, so we’re going to go ahead with the fitting on Saturday.”
“So we’re all meeting at nine-forty?”
“No, no. You’re coming at ten. Max is coming at nine, Luka at nine-twenty, then I’ll take your measurements, and Ivan and Kim have their measurements after.”
“It only takes twenty minutes to tailor a suit?”
“I’m not tailoring the suits, in fact, I’ve only just started sewing them last night.” She shook her head, shaking off the stress. “I’ll just be taking your measurments. Actually, that reminds me,” She pulled out her phone, creating a group text.
Marinette – Salut boys! Thank you for taking the time out of your Saturday to meet with me. I just want to remind everyone to please wear a dress shirt, dress shoes, and a well-fitted pair of pants when you come. See you all soon!
Adrien pulled out his phone when the text went through, looking it over. “I guess I’ll see you Saturday then.”
“We can grab coffee after everyone leaves.” Marinette flashed a smile for a man taking a picture of the two of them from across the street, and Adrien lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers lightly.
Somewhat taken off guard, she blinked back at him, awkwardly giggling. “Erm… yes. Yes! Definitely coffee, definitely.”
Adrien knew exactly was measuring for a suit entailed, as he had stood through many fittings throughout his modelling career. However, he was unsure of what it would entail with Marinette being the one pulling measuring tape around his torso, tightly wrapping his waist, measuring the inseam of his leg all the way up to his–
No!
Worst of all she would have to pull the tape in between his legs and–
Stop.
Marinette was– well, she was his, friend? Maybe?
The two had certainly warmed up to each other, and though they bickered occasionally, it had been at least a week since their last heated argument.
So yes, Adrien would regard Marinette to be his friend, and he was relatively certain that she saw him in a mutual light.
So as Marinette’s friend , he knew he definitely should not be mentally preparing himself for all the ways in which her hands would be analyzing him, assessing him, touching him and-
Jesus! Was he fourteen again?! He shook his head, ridding it of his own disgusting thoughts. He sternly reminded himself that she would be doing the same fitting for the four other men tomorrow. Being very clear with himself that it was nothing other than a professional, clinical, fitting, and thst he should not regard it as anything other than the sort.