Things I'll Never Say
Oct. 24th, 2015 12:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clairelutraPreface
“Eeek!”
Adrien jumped at the painful-sounding crash of slipped books, and was already turning on his heel to help the source of the feminine yelp of distress.
“Are you alright, miss-ah, Marinette?” He looked down at the girl in question, whose lap was covered in fallen books, offering his hand.
She’d probably flailed straight into the bookcase behind her, he guessed. His pretty classmate had a very enthusiastic flail.
“Y-Y-Yep!” she squeaked, lovely flush spreading over her cheeks.
She made no move to take his hand, and he dropped it awkwardly.
“Let me help you with those,” he offered instead, crouching down to help her gather the books instead.
“Ah, um! Thank-thank you!”
He helped her stack the books between them and lifted the stack into his arms. His eye fell on the one on the top of the stack.
“Ah, Artemis Fowl?” he asked, mostly to himself. This was the research section of their school library. Someone must have misplaced it.
“Oh!” said Marinette. She plucked the book from the top of the stack. “Th-that’s mine. I was checking it out.”
“Oh, really?” Adrien asked, suddenly very interested. It wasn’t like he’d read the whole series multiple times or anything.
“I’ve, um, read it before, but I like rereading it, someti-times,” she admitted with a shy smile.
“What do you think of it?” said Adrien, suddenly burning with curiosity. He’d never actually met someone else who’d read Artemis Fowl, and his attempts to get Nino into it had been unsuccessful so far.
“I like it a lot! Holly’s so cool, and the plots are so fun to follow,” she enthused, practically stutter-free.
“Right? I love Holly,” Adrien grinned. She reminded him ever-so-slightly of Ladybug, actually.
“Y-you’ve read Artemis Fowl, Adrien?” Marinette cocked her head cutely.
“I... ah,” Adrien faltered. It felt a little bit like ruining his badass cred to admit it, but this was the most he’d ever gotten out of shy, sweet Marinette in one meeting, and he was reluctant to give the conversation up just yet. “Once or twice?”
She giggled. Giggled. It was adorable.
“What other kinds of books do you like?” Adrien asked, carrying the books over to the bookcase they’d fallen from,
“O-oh, um. I like adventure stories a-a lot,” she confessed, following him with a little bounce in her step. “Percy Jackson and Alanna’s stories and stuff... um.”
“Have you read Harry Potter?” he prompted, fascinated with these little insights into her life. She was the only one in his class that he hadn’t managed to have an actual conversation with yet, despite his best efforts. She was so shy he always felt bad about making her uncomfortable with his presence.
“Oh, yes! My father used to read me to sleep with it, when I was very little,” she said, smiling softly. “I still get a little sleepy when I read it on my own now.”
Adrien firmly squashed the thread of wistful jealousy that sprang up in response to her obviously happy memory and tried to figure out how he should put the books back on their shelves.
“That sounds nice,” he said, quieter than he intended.
He felt her eyes on the side of his face and, rather than answer her questioning gaze, he bent down to set the stack of books on the floor. He picked up the top one and studied the shelf, trying to see where it had fallen from. Not all of the books had fallen (thank god, she would’ve been squished otherwise), and those that hadn’t laid haphazardly across the shelf.
“It was... Do-do you have any... um...” she trailed off, shyness catching up with her again.
Adrien straightened the shelved books around in a likely-looking place and carefully slid the encyclopedia into the empty slot he’d created. “Any...?”
She handed him the next book before he could stoop to get it. She had another in her other hand, with which she joined his straightening efforts. “Any... um. Books? That you have n-nice memories of?”
“Alice in Wonderland,” Adrien said, without thinking. It had been a present for his fifth birthday, and one of the very few gifts his father had given him personally, but he didn’t really want to unload that baggage into this conversation, so he added, ”I really loved it as a little kid.”
“O-oh,” said Marinette, looking at him once again. “My father tried reading it to me once...” She laughed a little. “It was a little too scary for seven-year-old-me.”
“Yeah,” mused Adrien. “I think I only really liked it because it was a gift. It gave me nightmares for years.”
He picked up the last two books and handed one to her, only to meet her disbelieving and sympathetic eyes. The sheer blueness of them knocked the breath out of him for a moment.
“It must have been a very important gift, if you still liked it after that,” she noted, edge of a sweet smile in her voice.
“It-It was,” he admitted, startled into stuttering.
“Psst! Marinette! Marinette!”
They both jumped.
Alya poked her head around a bookcase. “Where did you-oh!”
Marinette gave her friend a sheepish smile and a cute little wave.
Alya blinked owlishly, then smacked her palm to her forehead.
“A-ah, listen...” she started. Her eyes roved the ceiling as though looking for something. “...Oh!” She beamed. ”I’ve forgotten what I wanted! Silly me! Carry on.”
Marinette’s curvy, outgoing friend vanished with a wink and a momentary fanning of red curls.
Adrien turned a questioning look to the girl beside him, hoping for enlightenment, only to find her covering her faintly flushed face and shaking her head in embarrassment. He was left feeling like he’d missed something large.
“L-listen...” Marinette started, taking her head out of her hands and shifting a little, as if to follow her friend, with an apologetic look.
“It seemed pretty urgent,” Adrien said, smiling. “I’ve got this.”
She beamed, still pink. “Thank you! And... um...” She fidgeted.
“It was nice talking with you,” Adrien supplied when it became obvious that she wasn’t going to finish the thought.
“Yes! Uh, yes, you too...” she fumbled. She tipped her head up to show him a sunny, flustered smile and to say, “Talk to you later!”
He hoped so, he thought as he waved goodbye. He might have been missing out on a very good friend all this time, due to their combined shyness.
He put the last two books back in their places and smiled to himself.
“So have you and Adrien done it yet?”
Whatever Marinette had been expecting Alix to say when she flopped down across the table from her, that had not been it.
“Done what?” she asked, baffled.
Alix remained unhelpfully vague. “You know, it. We have a bet going.”
“I don’t know,” insisted Marinette. This was really quite distressing. If ‘it’ meant her stuttering her way though anything involving Adrien and Adrien very kindly putting up with her ineptitude, then yes, they had done ‘it’ quite a bit. If ‘it’ referred to interacting like two normal individuals, then Alix was bound to be disappointed.
Alix sighed. “You know,” she said, popping her gum, and just as Marinette was about to say again that she didn’t, she continued with, “The do.”
Marinette blinked.
“Banging like bunnies.”
Marinette choked.
“The horizontal tango.”
Marinette let out a noise like the last squeak of a dying animal.
“Le petite mort.”
“No!” she shrieked, or would have if she’d had any air in her lungs to do it with. It ended up coming out as a faint squeak. Her face flamed scarlet.
“Seriously?” Alix asked, continuing to pop her gum, completely unmoved by Marinette’s near-silent outburst.
“Seriously!”
(Not for lack of wishing on Marinette’s part, but that was neither here nor there.)
“But you guys have been going out for ages-”
...What?
“-are you two waiting until marriage or what?”
“We-we’re going out?” This was news to Marinette.
Alix rolled her eyes. “Girl,” she said seriously. “You need to get better at hiding it if you want anyone to believe that innocent act. My advice? Stage a huge break-up first. I don’t think anyone will believe you otherwise.”
“But we’re not going out,” fumbled Marinette, feeling like the conversation had left her behind somehow.
“Shyeah right you’re not. Look, all I wanna know is if he’s popped your cherry yet-”
Marinette squawked.
“-because I’ve got twenty euros riding on your answer and no one’s been able to figure it out yet.”
“Wh-Wh-Why would you think we were going out?” Because Marinette sure as hell didn’t know.
Although the misconception would explain a great many baffling things in her life right now, like the comment Miss Bustier had given her when assigning her and Adrien to a group project together (”Do try to get some work done, children.” She’d thought at the time that it was a dig at her flagging grades), or the hug Rose had given her last week (”I’m so happy for you two, Marinette!” She’d thought Rose was talking about her and Alya’s rather successful presentation), or the faintly dirty look Juleka had given her as she comforted Nathanael at lunch a few days ago (Marinette had spent several hours trying to remember if she’d forgotten a promise or something, before finally giving up).
“Because...?” Alix drew out the word, giving Marinette a ‘no duh’ kind of look. “You two sneak off together literally all the time?”
“We do.” Marinette did a double-take. “We do?”
She knew she snuck off, but Adrien? Wasn’t he the golden child here?
“You’ve been doing it once a day lately, you know,” said Alix drolly. “You’re not really subtle about it.”
“Oh.”
She couldn’t really argue the frequency--there’d been so many akuma lately she’d been barely managing to get to school, let alone staying the whole day.
But why was Adrien skipping?
“I’m, I mean, we-... we’re really not-”
“Mari,” Alix interrupted. “Don’t bother to deny, just tell me whether you’ve done the deed or not.”
“Not!”
“Aw man,” Alix sighed. “There goes twenty euros.”
“You bet on it happening?” Marinette spluttered.
Alix got up from the table. “Well, yeah? I mean, you’re practically attached at the hip, even if you’re trying to keep it secret.”
“We’re not-” Marinette attempted to protest one last time, but Alix had already left, and seemed to be handing a euro note to Kim.
Marinette pushed her tray into the middle of the table so she could thump her head against the vacated space.
“Huh?”
Marinette peeked up at Alya, who was taking a seat where Alix had sat not five minutes ago.
“What happened?” Alya wanted to know, looking concerned.
“I... I really don’t know,” Marinette said, thinking about it.
But as much as she felt like her mind had been hit by a whirlwind, one thought stuck out.
Why had Adrien been skipping at the same times she had?
It was a simple battle against a dapper old gentleman frustrated with the lawlessness of today’s youth.
It was a simple battle right up until Ladybug’s infamous luck failed her and she stumbled hard, leaving her open to attack.
She flailed, balance lost and panicking momentarily, and then Ser Monty caught her forearm.
Ladybug blinked at the sudden grip, following the white-gloved hand up to the monocled and be-’stached face of the man leaning over her.
“What-?” she began, but the akuma cut her off.
“If you would be so kind as to hand over your Miraculous, my lady.”
BadwrongNOPE-
Chat’s enraged snarl sounded in her ears as her foot connected hard with the akuma’s chest.
Ladybug wheezed, leg still extended from the kick, and blinked at the space where the akuma had been not two seconds ago. All she saw was empty sky and distant horizon.
She turned to look at her partner. He stood frozen, staff extended, also staring at where the akuma had once been, before returning her gaze. He looked mildly horrified.
“I’m not- I’m not that bad, am I?” he asked worriedly.
“Not nearly,” Ladybug swore, putting her foot back on the ground. If she were honest with herself, she even kind of liked it when Chat called her that. It was like an inside joke, just for the two of them.
She turned back to the scene of The Disappearing Akuma™, readying her next attack, before remembering that they were fighting on top of a very large suspension bridge. And that this akuma couldn’t fly. And that she’d just sent him sailing over the edge.
“Oops.”
Marinette was blushing.
Now, in Alya’s experience, this was not an entirely uncommon state for her best friend. Falling for the cute new kid had done wonders for her complexion. However, Alya admitted that this was a very strange thing to be blushing over.
‘This’ being the said new kid literally gushing over Paris’s number-one superhero, Ladybug.
The blush almost made it look like Marinette was the one being complimented.
Which was completely ridiculous. Marinette was Marinette and Ladybug was Ladybug. There was no way they were the same person, because Alya had been Marinette’s best friend since third grade and Ladybug’s biggest fan since she appeared in Paris. If Marinette was Ladybug, Alya’s pretty darn sure she would have noticed.
Alya continued to stare at her best friend and her best friend continued to blush and, in the background, Adrien continued to sing Ladybug’s praises and, really, Alya couldn’t think of a good reason for any of this.
Well, the blushing. The praises made sense--Alya was of the firm opinion that in this world there were people who loved Ladybug and liars.
It was reassuring to know that her best friend’s crush wasn’t a liar.
It was somewhat less reassuring to know that he really loved Ladybug, because the caliber of compliments Lady Luck was receiving was making Marinette’s chances with the boy look pret-ty slim, if Alya did say so herself.
But really, could he be a little less obviously in love with Ladybug, please? Alya had quite liked her delusion that all her efforts to get her best friend noticed by him weren’t in vain.
To reveal the truth was the core objective of journalism, and and knowing the truth precluded the revealing. Alya would just have to accept that her best friend’s crush already had a crush that wasn’t her best friend, and formulate her attacks from there.
Now, if only she could figure out the blush.
Marinette was running out of ideas.
She'd sent Chat for take-out and made him pay. She'd made him fix her broken cabinet drawer. She'd made him give her both back and foot massages. She'd made him write a sonnet about her beauty.
A sonnet.
He wrote a sonnet about her beauty. Without complaint.
And then he handed it to her with a smile and called her 'princess.'
Again.
That very thing she'd been trying so hard to stop with every ridiculous demand. She'd been trying so hard to irritate him into leaving, but it just wasn't working.
The cat. kept. coming. back.
Oh, don't get her wrong, she loved Chat. He was the best, the very best partner she could ever ask for, and one of her very best friends. But here was the thing: he was Ladybug's best friend, not Marinette's.
To Marinette? He was a danger to her secret identity who didn't know how to take a hint.
"Anything else you require, Princess?"
There was a mocking lilt to the question, a sarcastic emphasis on the last word, but it still carried the cadence of good-natured kindness and steadfast patience and Marinette wanted to scream.
She cast about frantically for anything, anything that might finally make the damn cat give up and go home, and her eyes fell on the little, dark pink bottle resting on her vanity, nearly forgotten.
Marinette never painted her nails (lacquer had been impractical when she was taking five different martial arts classes that all required the use of her fists, and by the time she'd quit those for the sake of city-saving it had become ingrained), but maybe...
Maybe.
If she was lucky, and she usually was, maybe nail polish would be the one thing his male ego couldn't take.
"Yes, actually." She thrust a dramatic finger at where the bottle lay innocuously on her vanity. "Paint my nails."
She smirked. She had him. There was no way her macho partner would lower himself to touch the bottle, much less-
"As you wish."
The smirk vanished like vapor. She sat, reclined on her chaise lounge like a fucking queen while her best friend and one of Paris's very own superheroes went to fetch her bottle of nail polish so he could paint her nails.
She sat, utterly stymied, as he padded gracefully over to her vanity, picked up the bottle, and returned.
He knelt by her side and held his hand out for hers.
In a fit of pique, she handed him her ankle instead.
The damn cat didn't so much as blink. He just shifted a little to get a better grip on it and started taking off her shoes.
Marinette spent the next half hour fuming as Chat (clumsily) painted her toes a muted rose, desperately planning her next move.
He might be more relaxed than she had expected, but everyone had a breaking point.
Everyone.
This meant war.
Ladybug had never felt quite so tiny in her entire life, and she’d grown up with Tom Dupain as her father.
Of course, Tom Dupain was an Adult, and was expected to be both very tall and very large; Chat, however, to the best of Ladybug’s knowledge, was around her age, and was expected to be neither tall nor large.
To find that, twenty years down the road, he would be both tall and large was a rather unpleasant shock.
He must've sensed her glare, because he grinned down at her. "Everything alright, mini 'bug?"
She was going to kick his condescending ass.
"Don't call me that," she whined, hating the way it made her sound about five years old in comparison.
(It wasn't at all the reaction she'd come to expect from Chat (that reaction included more lingering gazes and lovesick grins), and it was throwing her off. It was probably a good thing that those weren't his reactions, seeing as she was fifteen and he was over twice her age at the moment, but still.
She missed her Chat.)
He looked like he was about to ruffle her hair.
She was going to kick his condescending ass.
Thump.
Marinette idly kicked the empty seat in front of her, feeling guilty and nervous and defiant.
The entrance exam to U.A. was tough---and it had to be, to sort out the hopefuls from those who could actually make it as heroes---but, going in, Marinette had been almost completely sure she'd been up to the challenge. Up to the rigors of heroism and the rigors of surviving U.A. long enough to get there.
Thump.
She'd trained for years to get here, after all. Years to train her body to make up for her support-type quirk, years to train that quirk (the power to restore broken items) until it worked on a large enough scale to be considered 'heroic' enough to get her into the hero track, years of putting her all into studying and training just for this single shot at getting into the best hero school on this side of the equator.
Thump.
She'd thought she'd had what it took.
Thump.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
Thump.
She was trying to get into this school to learn how to save people effectively, right? So why was she sitting in a teacher's office waiting for her punishment for doing just that?
(She knew that wasn't fair---she wasn't waiting to be punished for saving someone; she was waiting to be punished for being a part of the rescue that took out half the examination area.)
Thump.
Still, she probably wasn't in nearly as much trouble as the kid whose quirk was responsible for all that damage.
She glanced at him from out of the corner of her eye, letting her foot fall to the ground.
He was slouched in the seat next to her, face mostly obscured by a black-and-green hoodie, but what she could see of it was nearly as green as the neon highlights on his clothing as he studied his bare hand, curling and uncurling his long, elegant fingers.
It was partially his fault that she was here, true, but it was also solely thanks to him that she was still alive.
"Hey," Marinette said, breaking the silence.
The kid flinched, sitting fully upright and looking at her with wild green eyes.
"I... don't think I ever thanked you for saving my life," Marinette said, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "So... thank you."
Ir was completely lame, but when she'd jumped in to save Sabrina from getting flattened by the zero-point 'bot, she'd misjudged how close the 'bot actually was. She'd thought she was done for when this kid jumped between her and incoming death and disintegrated it with his quirk, along with about half the arena.
In that way, it was also kind of her fault that he was in here.
The boy didn't seem to hold it against her. His pale face lit in a grin as he said, "Of course! Isn't that what a hero does?"
Marinette startled herself with a giggle. "We're not heroes yet, you know."
"Says who," the boy challenged, twisting in his seat to face her fully, getting a little less pale with every word. "Who says we need an education to be heroes? Who says we haven't been heroes since the day we decided that we wanted to dedicate our lives to saving people?"
Thump.
It wasn’t her foot that was thumping, that time.
She had nothing to say in response; she only had the faint feeling that this boy had beaten her somehow. She'd spent years working for a shot at learning how to become a hero, and here he was, the same age as her and not any better educated, being the hero she'd always dreamed of being.
Thump.
She held out her hand. "I'm Marinette."
Thump.
"Adrien." He tugged his black glove back on and took it. "My name is Adrien."
Th-thump.
The teacher came in, then, and the two of them sat straight in their seats, prepared to face the music.
(They were both pardoned, of course — and when they expressed shock over this, the teacher pointed out the obvious: this was a hero academy, after all. Why would they punish students for saving people?)
(But those small minutes would change the world in way no one foresaw.)
(That day, Adrien and Marinette parted from one another as friends.
In three years, they would part from the school as heroes and partners.
And in seventy, they would part from this world as legends.)
“Uh, listen… I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable, but could you… not squirm? Unless you would rather take a swim in the river, I mean…”
Adrien didn’t dare do much more than hum. He couldn’t do much more than hum, actually, seeing as his face was rather firmly smashed against Ladybug’s chest as she dangled them both rather precariously above the Seine.
“It’s only for a little bit, I promise!” she continued in a strained whisper as the akuma prowled the boat above them, squishing Adrien’s face a little farther into her cleavage and flexing her thighs around his hips as she struggled to keep the two of them stable and unnoticed.
Adrien’s only (printable) thought was that maybe a dip in the ice cold river didn’t sound like such a bad idea after all.
It’s just a hug, Ladybug repeated over and over in her head like a mantra. It’s only a hug.
This mantra would probably have been more effective if the mere thought of getting a hug from Adrien didn’t make Marinette feel a bit swoony, but for keeping her sanity intact it was definitely a better mantra than I can feel Adrien’s breath on my boobs.
He moved his head, presumably to get more air or find a slightly more comfortable position, and that was completely fine, except where his lips were most definitely dragging over her breasts.
“Uh! L-listen… I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable, but could you… not squirm? Unless you would rather take a swim in the river, I mean…”
Because if her knees went weak here, they were both screwed.
He hummed very quietly, vocal chords vibrating just so and it took everything Ladybug had in her to not make some sort of noise in response.
“It’s only for a little bit, I promise!” she whispered, not sure if it was directed at Adrien or herself.
Mmmmmaybe a dip in the Seine wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Unfortunately, my partner is indisposed at the moment,” Ladybug admitted easily. She grinned a coy little grin. “Guess I’m stuck with you then, eh, hot stuff?”
Hot stuff
“G-guess so,” he echoed weakly.
Had she—
She’d just—
Hot stuff.
Hot stuff.
On one hand, it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one who flirted with his civilian classmates while wearing the mask.
On the other, he was pretty sure he was going to rupture a few veins just by blushing before this stalkuma (stalker akuma — the puns just made themselves) was defeated and Chat Noir could resume his rightful place at his lady’s side.
Then, of course, she went on, tipping him a wink on the last word. “Think you can handle watching my back, cutie?”
…Could he handle having a front row seat to Ladybug’s unerring grace, lean musculature, and stomach-dropping flexibility without the distraction of having an akuma he needed to fight at his throat?
“Yep,” he squeaked.
It was a bald-faced lie.
Ladybug looked pleased, though. “Glad to have you on board, Adrien.”
Said boy stopped breathing.
He’d met many people over the course of his life that could make his name sound like a pick-up line, but he never would’ve guessed his lady was one of them.
This was dangerous information.
Adrien foresaw a long night ahead of him.
bombs across the danube by the intangibles
Ladybug didn’t believe in love at first sight.
“Listen,” she said to the boy - was he even awake? He was awfully still, sitting in this darkened alley, soaked to the bone by the rain and out of the purview of the worst of the war - and reached out to touch his shoulder. “You need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”
His head shot up, eyes snapping to hers and she was caught, caught in emerald fire, caught in surprising hostility that faded as awareness cleared the haze in his eyes, caught in the shock that chased the hostility, the little gasp of Ladybug! that fell from this beautiful boy’s beautiful lips.
Ladybug swallowed. “L-listen,” she repeated, feeling like the world had irrevocably gone off it’s axis, just a little bit, just a fraction at this discovery of a person too beautiful to be real.
“I… have nowhere to go,” admitted the ethereal boy.
Ladybug offered her hand. “Then come with me.”
She didn’t believe in love at first sight…
A long, elegant hand placed itself in her gloved one.
…but she believed in recognizing potential when she saw it.
victorious by panic! at the disco
Alya peeked into her boss’s room cautiously.
“And when I get my hands on those Miraculous, you will wish you’d never been born!”
Her boss stood in the middle of his pitch black office, ranting, enraged, at a blown-up picture on his projector screen.
The picture was of two people, from their noses to their chests; the woman on the right wearing a low-cut, black-spotted red dress and dark red lipstick, and the man on the left wearing a nicely cut black suit with a neon green tie. They both wore smug, shit-eating grins.
Also on display in the picture were the rubies dangling from the woman’s ears and the huge emerald set in the man’s ring.
The text written over the bottom read, ‘To the inspector, with love from Paris! <3′
“Just you wait!” screamed Alya’s new boss at the projected image as Alya slowly drew back from the opening.
She decided that her reports could wait and shut the door on Inspector Hawkmoth’s private raving time.
kidnap me by cruisr
“Over here, over here!” Nino shouted, waving his arms frantically.
“No, Alya, don’t you dare-”
Alya took one look at Marinette’s panicked face and immediately turned chuck her balled-up cover-up at Nino. “No hiding that lovely figure of yours when Adrien comes around. That’s the new rule.”
“Aaaalya,” Marinette moaned, hiding her bright red face in her hands.
“Oh, look,” said the sadist Alya. “There he is.”
Marinette made a noise like a dying animal.
Nino waved the last arrival over to their beach blanket.
Alya didn’t waste much time with pleasantries.
“Yo, Adrien!” She only waited for an answering wave before she forged on, “Isn’t Marinette’s suit cute?”
“Alya!” Marinette hissed, getting redder by the second and failing to yank her friends’ gleeful eyes away from the way Adrien swallowed and went pink.
Rubbing the back of his head, Adrien agreed, “V-very cute.”
don't trust me by 3oh!3
It wasn’t a bad thing that Chat Noir had fangirls.
Support from the citizens made many things possible, and girls with crushes, while occasionally terrifying, weren’t nearly the scariest thing they’d ever had to face down.
Ladybug grit her teeth as the swath of giggling teens moved around her partner, petting his biceps and asking to touch his hair and getting in his space and did they not realize what a violation of privacy that was?
Chat failed to tell them off or back away or even look uncomfortable as he flexed and winked and submitted to hair-pets, and Ladybug resisted the urge to snag him with her yo-yo and drag him away into the night, hissing mine at anyone who came too close.
No, it wasn’t a bad thing that Chat Noir had fangirls, but did he have to pander to them so obviously?
drunk in love by the weekend (instrumental)
A breath in his space; a breath in hers. A careful cadence passed between them in the low light was more than he could take, every brush bringing his mind to the fact that there was an expanse of unexplored skin beneath her clothing - something he shouldn’t be thinking about at all, but dark clubs and deep, throbbing baselines had a way of tugging out midnight fantasies better kept locked away.
He couldn’t see her eyes, not really - strobe lights were not made for illumination - but every so often, he caught a glimpse of a curve of lip, the swoop of her neck, and it felt like hell.
She pressed soft, lush curves against him and caught his arm. “We should go find Nino and Alya.”
Adrien forcibly pulled his mind out of the gutter and replied, “Alright.”
push pull by purity ring
She touched his cheek, letting her fingertips slide down, down, down down his soft skin, catching on the first hints of stubble, searching futilely for a word, a phrase, anything that would chase that awful, awful, awful shadow out of his eyes.
He caught her fingers and pressed a soft kiss too them. Thank you for trying, he said with his downcast gaze, his wry smile. But you shouldn’t bother.
Fuck that.
She would never stop trying.
cieratroyart asked: Alya and Marinette and AU they just found a unicorn. It's name is adrien and it's in love with them
“Well,” said Alya, stroking the flank of the unicorn they’d discovered on their evening walk. “You know what they say about unicorns and virgins… Looks like your chronic inability to get a real date finally served you.”
“Oh, thanks,” said Marinette, then gasped as she was jostled in her seat — the unicorn (whose name was now Adrien, no takebacks!) dropped lengthwise to Alya, implicitly offering her a ride, and Marinette muffled a snicker. “Looks like what they say about unicorns and virgins is all BS, though.”
Alya clicked her tongue derisively and got on the unicorn.
mmmatchaball asked: For the 3 sentence prompt: Adrinette, childhood friends au!
“Okay, what?” Marinette whisper-hissed as she finally dragged her best friend and his ridiculously annoying grin out behind the school; just because she was excited to be able to see her no-longer-homeschooled friend on a daily basis didn’t mean she’d abide him keeping grin-worthy secrets from her. “Spill.”
He knew something, and she was going to find out what that something was, and possibly not let him live it down for not telling her, depending on what it was.
It took less than a minute of intense staring to get him to ‘spill,’ and when he showed her the ring and the floating cat, it occurred to Marinette that maybe — maybe! — this superhero gig wouldn’t be so bad.
Anonymous asked: Ladrien. Knight tasked with guarding tower prince. (Cause c'mon it works better in those roles.)
The fact that his guard must sleep sometimes had never been more than an idle fantasy to Adrien — something to pass the long hours of entrapment when he couldn’t focus on his books or training — but perhaps he should have delved into the thought more thoroughly; perhaps it would have prepared him for the sight greeting him when he reached the common room.
Dark, tousled hair brushing loose around her shoulders, yesterday’s scarlet warpaint forgotten and smeared almost beyond recognition, sleepy blue eyes so much more striking for not being dwarfed by her armor… Adrien swallowed heavily.
“G’morning, Your Highness,” she greeted, sleep-roughened and warm and rolling her shoulders, shirt pulling tight around her back and waist, throwing her lean, mean, plate-metal-trained core into high relief and incidentally robbing Adrien of any breath he might have left. “You’re up early— where are you going?”
“To bathe,” Adrien said, perfectly steady, and fled.
liannesilver927 asked: Ladrien, penpal au (lolol is that a thing???? Good Luck)
“Ladybug?”
The trading of notes between her and Adrien had become one of the highlights of Ladybug’s week; what had started with a scheme to cheer her crush up with a note of encouragement had spiraled out into a full-blown correspondence, and Ladybug couldn’t be happier.
That did not mean she wanted to get caught leaving them behind, she mused almost idly, heart in her throat as she turned to wave sheepishly, feeling like she’d been spotted with a hand in the cookie jar.
Adrien smiled, soft and sweet and perfect as he waved back, and Ladybug fumbled her yo-yo string, getting yanked clear off her feet and smacked into the building she’d been attempting to jump.
Smooth.
modernsapho asked: DJWifi in a 24hr Walmart at 3AM (let's pretend there's a french equivalent)
“We have a list,” said Nino, unheeded for the nth time as he trailed after his girlfriend down the grubby, industrial, strangely empty isles — he was here to ‘be her self control, god, Nino, stop me or we’re only going to have ice cream to eat for the next week,’ but that was only going to work if she listened to him.
“What do you think about these?” said Alya, holding up two different brands of chocolate ice cream with dark circles below her eyes that belied just how long she’d been awake and a manic glint that belied just what it was doing to her.
Nino took a long hard look at the entire picture, before giving up on putting it gently and saying, “I think we need vegetables.”
ash-is-boss asked: Adrinette. Family reunion AU. Mwahaha
Marinette sometimes wondered what deity she had to blame for having Gabriel Agreste, and therefore Adrien Agreste, married into her family, not once, but twice over — and which one she pissed off royally enough for them, outsiders both, to speak Mandarin fluently, leaving her as the only person here who couldn’t understand a word of it.
She also wondered which deity she had to thank for Adrien sidling up to her where she was glaring at Uncle Agreste and Jiù Jiu with a shy smile and a, “They’re arguing about imports.”
And she’d never really spoken with Adrien before, not beyond their forced interactions as young children, and he was as awkward and out-of-place here as she was, language barrier not withstanding…
“Wanna sneak out and go to the beach?” she offered on a whim, and was gratified by the relief that flickered across his face before he agreed.
Maybe she’d have to do her research on those deities; she didn’t want any of them to think she was ungrateful.
Anonymous asked: Soooo, how about a ladynoir Witch AU? :)
“I’m the most powerful sorceress on the continent, you know,” Ladybug informed the purring werecat kitten in her lap very seriously. “You’re awfully relaxed for laying in the lap of Lady Luck.”
Her words had no apparent effect on the little black cat, except maybe to make him purr a little louder, so she went on, “I’m going to have to start telling people you’re my familiar so I don’t lose face.”
That got a reaction out of the tom; he stiffened, slowly raising his head out of where it had been tucked snugly into the crook of her arm, and looked at her with a devastating, near-palatable aura of hope.
The most powerful sorceress on the continent and I can’t even stand up to a cat, Ladybug thought in despair as she tried to remember where she’d left the familiar-binding spell and figure out how she could formally ask the little werecat to be her partner, only realizing a slightly more pressing problem when she got up to look. “…You’re not going to let me up, are you?”
theywaitforshewho asked: ladynoir - firefly/star wars au ;D ;D ;D
“Well,” said Chat Noir, pilot of the Miraculous and professional smuggler, reluctantly as he surveyed the bodies of the slavers scattered around the room. “It… seems I owe you a debt.”
A life debt, which was a terrifying thing to owe to a mysterious assassin with striking eyes and suspicious scars across her temples.
The assassin, a lovely lady by the name of ‘Ladybug’ whom he’d been doing business with before this whole mess, clicked off her lightsaber (red, which was as much of a warning sign as any) and smiled at him, the expression as magnetic as it was just plain off. “I still need that ride to Coruscant…”
Which… he’d been resisting because there were a few too many people there that wanted to kill him (throwing as many wrenches in the underground slave trade did him absolutely no favors with the higher-ups), but she was calling in a life debt and Chat, if nothing else, was an honorable sort, profession exempted. “…Consider that ride paid for and delivered.”
konarediss asked: Ook so let's see I chose adrienette and ummmmmmmm physics teacher au
“Get it, Mr. Agreste!“ one of his students hollered as she was shoved out of the classroom by her friend, laughing.
The words might have been more appreciated if it weren’t for the context; possibly the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen was leaning over his desk, biting her lip and batting her eyelashes as she haltingly asked him to reexplain a concept he’d introduced to his class not ten minutes earlier — if she’d done the exact same thing at a bar over a drink, he’d have been putty in her hands in five minutes flat.
But this was a classroom, not a bar, and she was a student, not a stranger looking for conversation or late-night fun, and Adrien hated his life.
“What was your name again?” he asked, because he was pretty damn sure he’d have noticed her when he was calling roll.
“Oh! U-um, Marinette,” she said, flashing him a sunny smile that made his heart trip and stumble over itself and, Tesla, did Adrien hate. his. life.
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Nino, holding his hands up in a supplication for patience. “You’re telling me that you have Ladybug as a soulmate.”
Alya was grinning like the cat who got the cream.
“How? When?”
“She was doing a signing and—” she started to explain, but then apparently decided that a demonstration would be more effective and turned around, clawing her shirt up so she could show him the list between her shoulder blades. “Look!”
Nino looked.
Lo and behold, the list had changed. His name was up top, scrawled in the hasty script he’d used to sign his last homework assignment as always, followed closely by Marinette’s and Adrien’s, handwriting elegantly looped and elegantly plain, respectively, but now there was a fourth entry: Ladybug.
“Woah.”
“Right?” Alya breathed, eyes wide and wondrous. “Ladybug. Ladybug is my soulmate. I’m Ladybug’s soulmate. Ladybug.”
Nino shoved down the tickle of jealousy. Getting a new name was always special, but imagine getting Ladybug’s name.
“Do you think she knows?”
Alya shrugged. “She can’t keep the suit on all the time, right? She must… Oh no.”
Nino’s stomach sank. “What?”
“I’ve never introduced myself.” Alya clutched his lapels. “She doesn’t know it’s me.”
Nino breathed a sigh of relief. This was something fixable.
“Well, that just means we need to go find her and tell her, right?” he said, thinking it was kind of obvious. “Maybe you can talk to her or something— mmph!”
“This,” Alya gasped as she released him with a smacking kiss that left his head absolutely spinning. “This is why you’re my primary. Let’s go.”
If he’d really been her true primary, he would’ve been able to remind her they were skipping class, he thought dazedly, but let himself be dragged away anyway. It would be worth it to see her happy.
“Miss? Miss, are you okay?”
Marinette groaned, rubbing her aching head, and wondered why Chat sounded worried. The monster he’d just beaten for her had only been a junkrat. Not exactly the most threatening of monsters, unless you were one fifth of its level like she was right now. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Still. He was here. That was a bigger relief that she would have imagined. If Chat was here, that meant she was safe.
Belatedly, she realized that she was rubbing a short pixie cut and cat ears. Oh right, this was her other account — she was innastitch, not Ladybug.
(Thaaat would explain why her partner in crime wasn’t heckling her for nearly getting sent back to spawn by a junkrat, now that she thought about it.)
“Good,” he sighed, relieved, offering her a hand up and hitting her with a healing spell when she accepted.
She shot him a grateful look as she put away her weapons. She hadn’t meant to wander this far into the Forest of Silence; she was so used to grinding further in, where the monsters were strongest, that her feet had carried her there on their own.
“You’re pretty far from town, princess,” he mentioned lightly, looking off into the distance — was that a blush? “Questing got you down?”
It occurred to Marinette that she had two options here: she could say that no, she hadn’t been questing, and had just wandered too far in like an idiot, or that yes, she hadn’t been able to find her quest items on the edge and so had gone in a little deeper than beginners were encouraged to go.
In other words, she could look like a hopeless case or just a total newb.
Either way, she could not, would not let Chat know Ladybug had needed saving from a junkrat. If she did, he’d never let her live it down.
“Uh, ssssomething like that, yeah,” Marinette winced, dusting off her skirt.
Reason number two Chat could never, ever find out innastitch was Ladybug: innastitch was a cat maid.
(In her defense, the maid outfit was easily obtained in an early quest and had very nice stats for a joke item, at least when worn by Nekomata players.)
“Whatcha you looking for?”
She pulled up the quest screen and shared it (because she had been on a quest — it had just.. slipped her mind for a bit), wondering how she could escape before she roused his suspicion.
“Ooh, mint. You know, there’s a huge cluster of mint right on the north edge of the forest,” Chat said, beaming at her. “I could show you where it is.”
Marinette opened her mouth to say she was perfectly capable of collecting a few plants on her own, thank you very much, but…
Ladybug was independent. If innastitch wasn’t independent, then that was less evidence, right?
Right?
“Oh, would you?” Marinette poured on the kitty eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m still so new at this…”
Chat puffed up. “Of course! It’s this way.”
…This was the opposite of escape
(He led her around for the rest of the day, which was partially because he was just so hopeful and happy to help she couldn’t find it in herself to say no, and partially because watching him was both heartwarming and excellent blackmail material.)
(Hey, she’d never claimed to be a saint, and if he ever found out about innastitch, she’d need some serious ammo.)
At this point in their acquaintance, all Marinette had to do was knock and give Adrien a look filled with every ounce of annoyance, exhaustion, and apology she felt, and he would open the door wider with a sympathetic smile and a, “Mi casa es su casa.”
Also at this point in their acquaintance, he no longer bothered with donning outer clothing when getting the door at two in the morning, and Marinette was treated to the sight of her attractive neighbor clad only in his Ladybug boxers.
Of course, at this point in their acquaintance, Marinette herself turned up in the hallway outside his door in her camisole and panties, so she probably couldn’t judge.
The exchange and lack of clothing was almost — almost — enough to make her to forgive Alya for sexiling her as often as she did.
“Nino’s bed is free, but you knew tha-a-at,” Adrien yawned, shutting the door and dimming the light behind her.
“Mh-hmm,” Marinette agreed, too tired to even pick up the dragging edge of her blanket. She rubbed her eyes and muttered, “Maybe you should just—” She was interrupted by a cavernous yawn of her own. “—just give me a key. Then I wouldn’t wake you up.”
Adrien looked at her for a moment, and then walked off, leaving Marinette’s brain to catch up with her mouth.
He was only gone long enough for Marinette to go through oh no, was that too forward? and have I ruined our friendship? and what if he thinks I’m a total creep now? before he was back and handing her a little silver key.
It only occurred to her after she’d accepted it and he’d flopped onto his bed and pulled a pillow over his face that a key meant no more two A.M. meetings in their underwear.
Oops.
The thing was, this close, Chat could smell her.
“Shoot, that was close. Are you okay?”
It was the one sense Plagg didn’t need to heighten to make Chat semi-competent at not dying in his crazy new life, and so while he’d had plenty of time to memorize the exact cadence and timbre of Ladybug’s voice, her scent was something he’d only caught in passing; he’d only known that it was something warm and tantalizing and mouth watering.
But now he knew.
She smelled like vanilla and bread and shampoo and sweat and musk, and it was intoxicating, the way it made him want to cradle her face, trace her lips with his fingers, trace her lips with his lips (kiss her, kiss her, kiss her), and being surrounded by her scent in this enclosed space made him want to do more than just trace.
In here, the way she smelled made him want to tug her flush against his front and explore her entire body with his hands and mouth, made him want to find out what what he had to do to make her gasp, shiver, moan—
“Chat?”
Shit.
He fumbled for her hand, pressed a quick kiss her knuckles in apology for letting his thoughts get away from him, and thanked the heavens she was pressed against the outside of his hip. “Safe and sound, my lady. Thank you.”
It was only when Ladybug’s upside-down hands clasped his cheeks that Adrien realized she was hanging from the lab ceiling by her feet alone.
Startled out of the trance Ladybug’s soft lips and softer words had put him into, he jerked back and stared.
As he suspected, her feet weren’t even stuck there by webbing; they were just… stuck.
Adrien’s physics-loving mind tried to adhere two and two together and failed. Ladybug was a slight female human of average height; taking into account the fact that muscle was denser than fat, there was no way she could be under fifty-five kilos, and was probably closer to sixty-five. The surface area of her feet, depending on her arches, couldn’t be much more than a hundred-and-fifty square centimeters at the very most, seventy-five when she went onto the balls of her feet…
To have enough adhesion in that small space, she shouldn’t have been able to move, much less fight with the agility he knew she had.
“How are you doing that?” he said, taking another step back so he could properly marvel at the spectacle of his crush completely flouting the laws of nature. The back of his brain itched to pull it apart and figure out how it worked, itched to see if he could replicate it.
Soft, pink lips flushed and parted; he got the feeling she was blinking at him behind her face mask.
It… was a rather odd thing to interrupt a first kiss with, Adrien realized belatedly.
Fortunately, Ladybug didn’t appear to hold it against him.
“Why not come over here and find out?”
caprette replied to your post: she can use science pickup lines next time tho
“Everyone knows its not the size of the vector that matters, but the way the force is delivered,” Ladybug purred, stretching out on the table where Adrien was scribbling equations in hasty, near-illegible handwriting.
If he wanted science, she’d give him science.
Unfortunately, the innuendo appeared to go straight over his head.
Slowly picking his head off the table, he fixed her with an odd look. “Yes…?“
Ladybug, all stretched out to her most seductive angle, coughed and awkwardly muttered, “Just… making sure you knew.”
That earned her a quick smile, but also lost her his attention.
She mourned it with a sigh and tried again.
“Do you have 11 protons?”
“I think I have more than that,” Adrien mumbled, not even looking up this time as he continued to scribble.
Ladybug sagged and didn’t bother finishing — because you’re sodium fine.
More force was needed, obviously.
She caught the eraser of his pencil in her fingertips and held it until he looked back up.
When she had his attention again, she leaned forward, spine twisted at a truly atrocious angle for maximum eye-catching, grabbed a handful of his white coat, smirked, and growled, “Didn’t you know that chemists do it periodically on the table?”
If that didn’t get through….
“Oh.”
Thankfully, it had.
“Oh.”
Adrien blinked at her, first with dawning realization, then dawning embarrassment, then grinned a silly little grin that he always got when she aimed puns at him, and Ladybug found herself smiling back, not that he could see it.
Still, he couldn’t resist one little correction as he pushed her mask aside and leaned in for the kiss she’d been waiting for all day. “This is a physics lab, you know.”
Deciding he had better things to do with his mouth than make fun of her pickup lines, Ladybug kissed him.
The biggest problem with alphas was a simple one; they fought — especially when you stuck two of them in a classroom together.
It was an incredibly simple concept; Adrien didn’t know why it was such a hard one for whoever arranged the classes to grasp.
“There you are,” he sighed in relief, pushing the door to the locker rooms open a little wider so he could duck in next to the girl he’d been sent to track down. “Mme. Bustier was looking for you.”
Marinette’s head snapped up, bloodied snarl on her lips and eyes glinting gold from a recent shift, half cornered animal and half looking for another fight.
Instinctively, Adrien dropped his shoulders and bared his neck, stomach curling and tightening in the same moment.
He didn’t know if he was grateful for being an omega (and therefore a non-threat) or not.
On one hand, there would be no biting.
On the other, there would be no biting.
It was a dilemma.
Marinette blinked once, twice, then inhaled, and the snarl vanished like smoke. “A-A-A-Adrien!”
Yup, that was him. He waved.
Marinette flailed, limbs flying in several directions at once. “H-hey there, hot— uh— babe— owww— cutie— Eek! Ouch— I-I mean!”
Adrien watched her aggravate her fresh wounds with a small wince. Injuries aside, though, it was kind of adorable, actually, seeing her this frazzled — normally she was downright smooth.
“L-looking good?” she finally tried, blushing bright red and still covered in scratches and slashes, laid out in a ridiculous ‘paint me like one of your french girls’ pose that looked like it was putting a lot of undue stress on the bitemark on her arm.
“…Thanks,” said Adrien, smiling a little awkwardly and trying very hard not to look like he was thinking exactly the same thing.
(Marinette was built like someone had thought heavy artillery should come in the form of a teenage girl — compact and powerful and present and confident in a way that made his mouth go dry when she smirked — and if it wasn’t for Ladybug…
Well.)
Maybe he tried a little too hard, because Marinette was starting to look self-conscious She looked away and scrubbed the back of her head, the gesture doing fascinating things to her forearms and the way her shirt pulled across her triceps.
“Do you wanna head back?” Adrien asked, ripping his eyes away from her arms only to fall on her face. He winced again. “…Or maybe go to the nurse’s office?”
Marinette sucked blood away from her split lip and grimaced. “…Maybe.”
Adrien offered her a sympathetic smile and a hand up, and she took both, a little self-deprecating and sulking, but ungrudging.
She let go quickly and did a nearly militaristic about turn, eyes darting between him and the exit. “Well! We-we should… get going!”
Still smiling, Adrien said, “Lead the way.”
dumbluckycharm asked: marichat reverse crush au *O* (love your writing :D)
“Hey, hey, you, you! I don’t like your girlfriend!”
Being the daughter of a world-renown fashion icon was hard, Marinette knew for a fact, and you had to take your alone time when you could get it.
That said, she was guiltily certain that if her mother ever found out about how her daughter chose to relax, Sabine would, delicately speaking, flip her shit.
Marinette had dug her Wii out of the very back of her closet, Super Mario Galaxy idling on her television screen. It was already an hour after noon, and she was still in her kiddie pajamas. Her skin regimen had been abandoned for the day, and her hair was a mess.
“No way, no way! I think you need a new one!”
She’d just really gotten into it, dancing around her room with her door locked to keep the maids out and her windows wide to let in the sunshine, singing into hairbrush at embarrassingly enthusiastic volumes, when she was interrupted:
She was spinning, lungs tight and cheeks hurting as she pointed out of her window like an anime idol, adding in a little finger gun motion and having the time of her life while quietly hoping the maids couldn’t hear her, singing, “Hey, hey, you, you! I could be your girlfriend!” when—
“…Marinette?”
Years and years of social training be damned, Marinette shrieked, staggering back and tripping over a controller wire and falling flat on her ass, one bunny slipper flying off her foot and sailing elegantly over her head.
It turned out that she hadn’t been pointing out of her window, but at Chat Blanc, who was crouched in the sill.
“Ch-Ch-Ch-Chat Blanc!” she squeaked, the ominous voice of her mother (if you can’t say it well, don’t say it at all) echoing through her head to no effect. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
Her normally cool and collected partner stared. “I… You… You’re in danger— is that Avril Lavigne?”
Avril launched into another riff. Marinette wondered if it was possible to die by blunt force blush trauma.
“Why didn’t you use the door?” she begged to know, scrambling for the scattered shreds of her legendary composure. “And what do you mean by ‘danger’?!”
“There’s an… akuma… Your mother rejected her, and… she’s after you,” Chat explained, somewhat disjointedly. He dropped down so he could stand tall in the middle of her intensely pink room. He was still staring. “And I… I didn’t think they’d let me in.”
Which was all very logical and rational, seeing as her mother had a wider reach than the average deity and they lived in a house roughly the size of the average mall, but Marinette was still in front of her crush in pajamas and bunny slippers.
Drawing on reserves of cool she didn’t know she had, she took a very deep breath and asked, almost steadily, “Is there an akuma here right now?”
Chat shook his head, still staring. Marinette tried not to notice it was her single slipper that he was staring at.
“Then can I meet you in the garden in ten minutes?”
Chat nodded.
And didn’t move an inch.
Marinette cleared her throat pointedly.
He flinched.
“Right! I’ll just…” He waved at the window without looking at it, tried to take a single step back, hit the wall, turned on his heel, hauled himself up, and veritably flung himself from her third story window.
Marinette winced even before she heard the splash — her home was surrounded by gardens that were ninety-percent water. She hoped he hadn’t scared any of the koi; fish were far more delicate than superheroes.
She took two very deep breaths before remembering she had less than ten minutes to make herself semi-presentable, and dove for her bathroom.
Anonymous asked: Adrinette fake dating AU! :D
France’s Sweetheart Finds a Sweetheart!
Marinette put down the gossip rag and raised her eyes to her mother’s, trying to communicate with a look alone just how unimpressed she was with all of this.
(Maybe throw in a hint of pleading, too. Sabine wouldn’t be swayed a centimeter, but making her displeasure known might make Marinette feel a little better.)
Sabine, oddly enough, just sighed. “Just until the spring debut, darling. Just until the spring debut.”
Marinette blinked, floored by the rare moment of sympathy, but her mother had moved on, already shouting at the photographers and lighting staff on the set.
Adrien took her place.
“So this is what a photo shoot looks like.”
Marinette was far too graceful and refined to snipe at people for simply speaking to her, but she was tempted. Oh, she was tempted.
“There are the cameras, there are the props, there’s the stage, and those are the lights,” Marinette said, flat and dry despite her best attempts. She’d rather attend society meetings every day for the next three months than do this. “Congratulations. You’ve been welcomed into the fold.”
Okay, maybe she wasn’t above sniping.
Adrien, damn him, was unaffected. Her new boyfriend (ugh) just grinned. “So we…”
“We put on clothes and pose,” Marinette sighed, tossing the gossip rag onto a nearby table. She jerked her head to indicate he should follow her, and then led him around the back to the dressing rooms, talking as they went. “Sometimes we even smile. Didn’t your father tell you all this?”
“My father doesn’t tell me anything,” Adrien said, droll. He grinned his impish charmer grin, hair as artlessly mussed as ever. “Thank god I have you, right?”
Marinette made a grudgingly agreeing sort of noise and walked faster.
The really terrible thing about all of this, Marinette reflected, was that she could see exactly how he had their entire class eating out of his palms, even with his awfully maintained hair. He was kind, silly, likable; a consummate flatterer who was all the better for the fact that he actually meant his compliments and a consummate prankster who was all the better for the fact that his jokes hurt no one.
Marinette, on the other hand, commanded an unwavering sort of distant respect, one that only occasionally got her invited to class events and none of the personal ones. She was the winner of the best-dressed award for what felt like nothing, sometimes.
They were night and day, white and black, and Marinette didn’t know what their parents were thinking, making them pull a publicity stunt like this. There was no way they could pull this off.
Well, there were worse people she could be forced to spend time with, she supposed. At least she hadn’t been told to date Chloe.
She showed Adrien to his dressing room and left him to the stylists, thinking deep thoughts about what she wanted for lunch and how many more times she could slip out of going shopping with Chloe before she had to face the music for the sake of Maman’s rep.
Her makeup was halfway done when she heard a screech and a clatter.
“Leave my hair alone!”
Rapid foot falls echoed through the studio, and Marinette looked up just in time to see Adrien fleeing across the open space, shirtless with his hands clutched over his head and a stylist in hot pursuit.
Marinette very nearly buried her half made-up face in her hands.
Her stylist patted her shoulder in laughing sympathy and said, “He seems like the… vigorous sort.”
Marinette heard lucky girl as clearly as if the woman had said it aloud, and absolutely did not moan in pained embarrassment.
She changed her mind; she would much rather have been told to date Chloe.
fyrestar10 asked: For the short fic submission, could you write some Scary Sabine AU LadyNoir/LadyBlanc? :)
Pink Lady was a study in contradictions. She was awkward with her lines and smooth with her delivery. She was openly, irrepressibly flirtatious yet the most respectful and steadfast listener Chat had ever had the pleasure of speaking with. She was thoughtlessly graceful, steps gliding like royalty and gestures immaculate, right up until she started thinking about it, and then…
Thwunk.
“Hyek!”
Chat winced, grateful he hadn’t heard the crunch of bone with the speed his partner had been flying at that wall.
He’d like to have a word with whoever thought Pink Lady should swing through Paris on a yo-yo. See if they could get them to replace it with something safer. A tricycle, maybe.
Pink Lady sprung just sprung right back up, rubbing her nose before pulling back her yo-yo and (Chat winced harder) trying again.
It ended just as well as the first attempt.
“You know,” Chat put in hurriedly, before she could slam herself into the wall for a third time. “There’s a fire escape. Right there.”
You could climb it, he didn’t add. And save me from having years shaved off my life.
Pink Lady turned and looked, and Chat tried very hard not to sigh audibly in relief when she flashed him an embarrassed grin and set to climbing.
mirthalia: /whispers mari showing up to school the next morning with a bandage on her nose and trying to hide her sheepishness
theywaitforshewho: 8DDDD yESSSSS /adds to mirth’s whisper and suggests that adrien asks to kiss it better
“Never walk, my love. Only stride.”
It was one of the clearest, most formative memories Marinette had. All it took was a throwaway line from her mother three days before her seventh birthday, and Marinette hadn’t walked a single step since.
But today, that streak was at severe risk.
Chin up, chin up, chin up, Marinette repeated to herself over and over and over again, trying not to do anything so obvious as blush. Keep your nose high and pray they won’t see—
Adrien appeared to her right, virtually out of thin air, something fragrant and brightly colored presented right under said nose, backed by a bright, warm grin.
She could almost recite her fake boyfriend’s line before he even opened his mouth.
“A pretty flower for a pretty la— oh.”
…Almost.
Adrien, to her utter humiliation, looked downright alarmed. “What happened? Are you okay?”
His hand hovered by her shoulder, like he’d forgotten that touching was now required, instead of forbidden.
Marinette sighed through her stinging nose and accepted the flower. “I’m… fine. I just… fell down the stairs.”
Not necessarily a lie, but falling down the stairs had produced bruises that were much easier to hide than the giant plaster stuck over the bridge of her nose at the moment.
His hand finally settled on her shoulder, and, for once, Marinette wasn’t even a little bit tempted to shake it off.
He winced sympathetically and squeezed her shoulder, eyes soft and sincere. “Do you want me to go find you an ice pack? Or medicine?”
Marinette’s heart did a little one-two step purely to spite her.
“I’m alright, I promise,” she said, looking down at the flower and praying her blush hadn’t deepened.
Adrien smiled, relieved, before a glint of mischief entered his expression. “Want me to kiss it better?”
Marinette was too well-trained to choke. “Nnnn…”
Wait. They were going out. He should be kissing her nose better.
“Well…” Hardly believing she was doing this, she recited a quick apology to Chat Blanc in her mind and tilted her head up expectantly.
Adrien didn’t move.
Marinette waited a good five seconds before she opened her eyes to find Adrien staring at her, blank and confused.
“Well?” Marinette asked, a little breathless and trying not to let her voice shake. She’d never done this before, but she’d be damned if she let him know she was nervous. “What are you waiting for?”
It all came out far less demanding than she’d intended it to sound. Maybe a little dreamy, maybe a little flirty, definitely unsure, but not demanding. Her body was betraying her.
Adrien blinked once, twice, then jumped. “Oh!”
After a few more seconds of hesitation, he cupped her face first with his free hand, and then with the one that had been on her shoulder, and Marinette tried not to notice that his blush was probably a good five shades deeper than her own.
Slowly, he lowered his face to hers, warm breath washing over her cheeks, and brushed warm lips over the stinging bridge of her nose, sweet and soft and careful.
Marinette felt the glow of it from the core of her chest right down to her toes.
“There,” he whispered thickly, pulling back and letting his hands drop away from her hot, hot face. He cleared his throat. “All better.”
“Mmm…” Marinette smiled at him, and then pretended she’d meant to. “Thank you.”
The bell chose that moment to ring, breaking the spell and overriding the faint choking noise she thought she’d heard him emit.
She shook off the daze and elbowed his side. “C’mon, we’re going to be late.”
Adrien half-sighed, sounding almost drunk. “Be right there.”
Marinette didn’t wait up. What her mother would say if she was late was scarier than that, thanks.
Chat Noir, Ladybug signed very seriously, movements sharp and precise. We cannot – and I repeat, cannot — name this akuma ‘Dab.’
Chat’s stomach bubbled in delight when she actually dabbed to sign the word when she could have just as easily spelled it out. It may or may not have been his biggest reason for suggesting it in the first place — the chance to see his adorable partner dab.
Listen, Chat signed back, looser and cheerier and clumsier in his own, slightly broken sign language. This is a dabbing akuma. Do you know just how mad the gods of dabbing would be if we missed this chance?
Ladybug sighed. They’d be furious if they existed.
Chat smiled innocently.
And why is it so important, anyway? Ladybug questioned, cocking her head with slow deliberation. It’s not efficient if we have to — She ducked, tucking her nose into the crook of her elbow and striking the pose, and Chat had to bite his lip against an intense surge of affection. — every time we want to talk about it. It would be a health hazard.
He had a feeling that this is adorable and you are adorable wouldn’t go over too well. Instead he signed, Because if we dab against a dabbing akuma, that would confuse it, right? To dab a dab against the one who dabs would be the ultimate dabbing offense.
Or, he tried, at least. His grammar wasn’t the greatest, but he hoped his point had been conveyed through the rapid series of dabs.
Ladybug slowly raised a single eyebrow.
Chat sighed and surrendered. Okay, mostly I was thinking about how great the news could be when they air it later tonight. Then added, after a moment of hesitation, Aaaaand… you look adorable doing that.
Ladybug, on the verge of turning away, whipped back around.
Chat winked, shooting a little finger gun in her general direction.
Ladybug spread her hands in wordless supplication, then set one on her hip as she gestured back, Okay, but only this once.
“Yes!” Chat cheered, momentarily forgetting to sign the gesture, and Ladybug waved him down from his victory dance.
Once, I said! she flailed. And only once! One! Uno, ichi, eins, un!
Chat grabbed her shoulders and gave them a brief, grateful squeeze before signing back, I know. Thanks Ladybug, you’re the best.
She smiled up at him, sweet enough to make his insides feel like melted ice cream, and held up a hand between them.
D-O-R-K
Chat couldn’t breathe for how warm that left him.
Your dork, Chat reminded her brightly. Your dork who dabs.
Ladybug giggled her near-silent, wheezy little giggle, and Chat promised himself, for what must have been the hundredth time by now, that one day, one day…
One day, he was going to marry this girl.
“I gotta say, red really is your color, my lady.”
It was true; the red, red, red suit was her armor and her ballgown, matching her mood for mood, and Chat couldn’t imagine her in anything lovelier.
It was doubly true for the rosy flush on her cheeks, freckles standing out brighter over the soft pinks and reds dusting her cheeks and nose.
Seeing the two combined was… addictive.
Worryingly addictive.
(Chat foresaw his future, and it was filled to the brim with embarrassing and futile attempts to get her to blush like this again.)
Ladybug just avoided his eye and turned darker, and Chat’s pulse went from double-time to triple-time, pushing against his throat and roaring in his ears.
“What, cat’s got your tongue?” he asked, miraculously steady, considering that she was still blushing.
Ladybug slanted him an unimpressed look, the effect irrevocably altered by the flush. “Do you ever shut up?”
“My lady, you know my purroclivities,” he teased, breathless and relishing in his rolled ‘R’s. This whole situation was coated in a sheen of unreality, and if it was a dream, Chat wanted to enjoy it. “Did you really expect anything else?”
Ladybug acknowledged the statement with an eye roll, but Chat could see that little grin sneaking up her face, and it left him lightheaded.
“But if your really wanted me to shut up, I’m sure you know how,” he suggested, faux-innocent. He topped it off with a wink, and internally mourned the split second in which he wasn’t memorizing every single thing about this scene.
That, for one reason or another, got an actual smile out of her.
…This was getting to be hazardous to his health.
“Well…” Her blush faded ever so slightly and her gaze flicked from his eyes down to his mouth and stayed there. “I’m sure I could think of something.”
…Had she just—?
She was still looking at his mouth.
Yes, yes she had just.
Oh god.
“Oh,” Chat croaked weakly, two octaves too high and struck by the feeling that he was wearing far too much clothing. “Y-you… You do that.”
Ladybug caught the corner of her lip in her teeth and looked back up at his eyes, coy, and he was going to petition to have that look outlawed. He really, really was. “I’ll keep you updated.“
Chat Noir: 1.
Ladybug: overwhelming victory.
