34. Chapter 34

The hideout.

Ladybug took him to the hideout.

Though he’d realized their destination as soon as she’d crossed over into the packing district, Adrien couldn’t help but let out an excited whoop as the rusty storage hanger came into view. It had been months since he’d last seen the place, years since they’d both been there together, and the sight of it dredged up a huge flood of memories.

Upon first receiving their Miraculous, (and after those first rocky weeks of hero-ing) Ladybug and Chat Noir had decided they needed a base of operations. For planning purposes of course.

In hindsight it seemed silly, really. Their job was to come running when an akuma popped up then scamper out of sight once things were taken care of. But to two fourteen-year-olds the task had seemed monumental. So they’d set up their hideout — stocked with snacks and maps and other things they might need for the war on Hawkmoth — in an abandoned storage hanger on the docks of the Seine.

Adrien could recall hours spent there, scheduling patrols, putting pins in newspaper clippings wrapped in red twine and generally giving the illusion of having some sort of plan. It’s were they’d strategized, theorized. He even recalled the time he and Ladybug had tried tracking the akuma, following the newly cleansed butterflies for hours on end and charting their path across Paris.

(All that particular venture had yielded was two tired kids and more questions than answers.)

But Adrien’s favorite memories of the place had to have been of the moments between the half-hatched schemes, the ones in which he and his partner had simply sprawled out in the sun-drenched upper loft and talked. They’d talked for hours sometimes. They’d talked about everything and nothing, from the heaviest subjects to the most frivolous. They’d talked about their silly dreams, their secret fears… they’d wondered why they’d been chosen for this task when neither of them were really superhero material.

His and Ladybug’s days at the hideout had been a decidedly formative time in his life. A time Adrien would never forget.

And although the duo had long since abandoned their hideout, their return sent a lick of warmth spiraling through Adrien’s chest as he touched down on that oh-so-familiar roof. The building itself was a two story barn-like structure, with corrugated siding and long paneled windows overlooking the water. It was old, and more than a little decrepit, sure… but hell if it didn’t look like home.

Sliding through the aforementioned windows with a practiced ease, Ladybug and Chat Noir touched down in the dusty loft, costumed feat creaking against the wooden floorboards. They spun in circles, taking in the space. It was mostly empty — a few crates scattered around, but not much else.

“Seriously?” Adrien laughed, letting his eyes rove over the upper beams that spanned the length of the building. He fondly recalled the hours the two had spent vaulting and swinging between them, becoming accustomed to their tools of the trade.  “I don’t think we’ve been here since…”

His word trailed off as two slender arms wrapped around his torso from behind.

Behaving more like a spider than her spotted namesake, Ladybug let her hands lecherously creep up his chest. They roved his suited pectorals, feather-light and toeing the edge of tickling before tracing the seams that outlined his armpits, and Adrien chuckled as they continued their curious exploration.

“Hey there,” he said, smirking as he twisted to peer over his shoulder, “Can’t keep your hands off the goods I see.”

Ladybug rested her chin on his back, gazing up to study him with lips puckering side to side. The pale moonlight that filtered through the long panes of glass before them cast her in an almost otherworldly hue, bringing out the notes of blue that threaded through her hair, and Adrien was once again struck by how very lovely his partner was.

“Hey,” Ladybug finally echoed back, giving him a look the spawned butterflies in its wake before pressing her face flat between his shoulder blades. Her next words were muffled against his suit. “I missed you.”

Adrien popped a grin.

He spun, intent on scooping Ladybug up in the hug he’d been craving all day, but she remained rooted to his back.  “God, you’re like a leach!” Adrien exclaimed, wiggling his torso in a half-hearted attempt to break her grip, “Like a crazy strong leach!”

Ladybug’s retort was a wet suck against his shoulder, followed by a giggle as Adrien wretched in faux-disgust.

“Alright,” he warned, voice far too gleeful to sound even remotely chastising, “that’s it…”

Adrien used his (only slightly) superior strength to pry Ladybug’s arms open, whipping around to ensnare the girl as she gave a cry of “not fair!”. There was a scuffle, with a few thrown elbows and sticking out of tongues, but eventually (inevitably) she came out on top.

It was a victorious Ladybug who pinned him as they sprawled across the floor, giggling helplessly at their usual brand of entanglement, yet Adrien couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit smug as he hooked his arms around the back of her neck.

He’d gotten his hug after all. As indirect, pigtail-ruffling and splinter-filled as it was.

Adrien pulled himself onto his knees, drawing a snickering Ladybug alongside him, and took a moment to simply admire her. Admire this. Admire them.

(He’d missed “them”.)

 “Can I kiss you?” Adrien trailed the backs of his fingers along the smooth skin of his Lady’s cheeks, stopping just short of the mask bridging her nose before circuiting back down. ‘Perfect.’

“Are you going to ask me that every time now?” she questioned with a fond roll of her eyes.

“Yep!”

Ladybug sighed, letting her fingers twine with his as they continued to trace along the edge of her face. “I’ve told you about half a dozen times now, Chaton. I’m not mad about that kiss by the billboard.”

Adrien’s eyes flickered away as the painful memory of that night resurfaced, only to have his gaze swiftly recaptured by the girl before him.

“You didn’t force yourself onto me,” Ladybug stressed, unwilling to relinquished her hard-earned eye contact as she gave him a firm nod. “You didn’t overstep my boundaries. It was just a case of bad timing, and you really shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.”

“You tried to tell me to stop,” Adrien muttered, plagued by the recollection of her panicked tears. The way her lips curled away from his. “I didn’t listen to you.”

Her grip on his hands tightened. “Then listen to me now.”

Ladybug’s voice had taken on that Superhero Quality™. The one that halted villains, soothed civilians, and dazzled her partner. It was a mix of demanding and awe-inspiring, impossible to ignore, and Adrien’s focus locked onto her intent stare.

“I want you to kiss me,” she assured him, scooting forward to settle on— ‘no, wait, that was definitely straddling again’ — his kneeling lap. She looked up between her lashes, mouth fluttering open as if she wanted to say more, and in that moment Adrien was certain the tint across her cheeks had to be some trick of the moonlight. Perhaps a shadow?

But then Ladybug placed a single hand to the center of his chest, whispering out into the space between them, and his subsequent thoughts came to a screeching halt.

 “Please kiss me… Adrien.”

Yep, that had definitely short-circuited something important.

Adrien’s breath caught in his throat at the words, heart stuttering in its rhythm. The name shouldn’t have come as a shock, they were both well aware of his identity, but gosh some warning would have nice. Because only in his most convoluted fantasies had Ladybug ever referred to him as anything other than “Chat”.

And it seemed as though the sound of her murmuring his real name was a real turn-on.

“You would defile our most precious childhood memory with your wanton womanly desires?” Adrien teased, ready to pull out the gas can and torch the place at her command.

“O-only if you help me do the defiling.”

Ladybug tilted her head, nosing along the rim of his mask as her breath raised goosebumps along its path, and each puff of air seemed to incrementally raise the temperature around them. She was close, so close, getting closer with each second, and Adrien wasn’t exactly sure which one of them made the first appeal.

“Please...”

All it took was the slight drag of her teeth along his jaw, the motion reminiscent of a matchstick to sandpaper, and it was as if the room burst into flames.

Adrien rocked forward to incite a desperate kiss, secure in the knowledge he had her full consent and eager to put that permission to use. His lips connected with hers and Ladybug responded at once, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. She practically seemed to come alive under his touch, feeding into their kiss with the sort of carnal abandon he’d become so addicted to, and it was twin sighs that mingled between them as their lips parted in tandem.

Adrien felt himself swept up into that hazy heat of pure “her.” Her hands carding through his hair. Her lips pulsing and pleading. Her tongue sliding alongside his in silent question.

“Is this okay?” it asked, “Are we okay to do this again?”

“Yes, of course.” Adrien’s tongue answered back. “Always.”

Ladybug tasted curiously of lemon.

And something about the unexpected flavor only made things all the more intoxicating to him.

Thought this was far from the first time the pair had gotten this heated, something about this particular kiss seemed so incredibly more. More passionate. More pleading.

It could have been the fact they had come so close to breaking, those lingering worries and desperations drawing the two teens stiflingly close to each other as if fearful the other may suddenly disappear. Or it possibly could have been the simple nostalgia of their location. Could have been the palpable sensation of safety and comfort that seemed to seep up from the very foundation of the place that had always been just for them.

Hell, it might have just been the alignment of the stars or the time of year or any number of other smaller, cosmic happenstances that could have brought them to each other on that particular night. But regardless the reason, there was something much larger at work. Something emotional and fraught- something that made it impossible for the two to part for any stretch of time longer than a second.

Ladybug was downright relentless as the drew him deeper into the kiss. She was relentless, addicting and, god, she was his. She was his again, and the latent realization hit Adrien with a soaring rush of relief.

She wanted this. She wanted him.

And if the clenching hand he felt wrapped around his tail was any indication, she wanted him bad.

Grinning, Adrien withdrew slightly. Just far enough to whisper against her lips. “Someone’s needy.”

“Your h-hands,” Ladybug panted, pulling back a fraction and tilting her eyes down to where said appendages lay idle against her knees.

 “What about them?”

“They aren’t doing anything.”

Despite the heat of their entanglement, Adrien felt his lip quirk in amusement. “Well excuuuuuuse me, Princess. What would you prefer them to be doing?”

Ladybug cocked her head in challenge.

“How about,” she said, her voice a dozen different types of inviting, “you put your hands wherever you’d like… and I’ll tell you when you find the right place.”

Now that was a game he could get behind.

“Hhhhmmm, how about… here?” Adrien wrapped his palms around her trim waist, looking up to catch any sort of reaction

“Sure,” Ladybug said with a dramatic sigh. “If you wanna be vanilla about it.”

Her face darkened into something undeniably irresistible, and Adrien took that as his green light to grow bolder. Excitement mounting, he gripped her backside, pulling the girl flush against his torso until she lined up with him inch for inch. And with a surprised (but most definitely pleased) hum, Ladybug wiggled in close.

“This closer to what you had in mind?” the hero teased, resisting the urge to rub against her like the cat he was.

“You’re getting waaaaarmer,” she trilled with a complicated little grin. A goading one.

‘You’re telling me…’ Adrien thought, gulping as he registered the fact his costume seemed just a bit tighter around the crotch than it had minutes ago.

“Do you need a hint?” Ladybug asked almost sweetly. “Perhaps a map?” Yep, she was definitely goading at this point.

“To please my Lady?” Adrien scoffed, squaring his shoulders with a sense of practiced bravado. “Absolutely not.” He focused his attentions to the challenge she’d laid out for him, palms sliding down the curve of Ladybug’s rump and along the outsides of her thighs as he fished for a reaction.

“Hot or cold?” he murmured, earning a small chuckle.

 “Cold.”

“Shoot.”

Next Adrien slid his way up her back, hands coming to rest across her shoulder blades. His black mask peaked up in question.

Ladybug simply shrugged, looking far too playful for his sanity to bear. “Ehh… I’d say… lukewarm? Maybe room temperature.”

‘Now that won’t do,’ Adrien thought, a wicked and possibly disastrous idea forming in the back of his mind. Careful of the claws that capped each digit, he let his hands draw up the nape of her neck and wind in the thick pigtails resting there. His gaze flicked up to hers, hoping to gauge her reaction as he gave the hair a light tug.

 “C-cold,” Ladybug stuttered out, prompting his grip to immediately loosen, “But I think we should… come back to that later.”

Adrien’s eyes widened.

“Alright,” he breathed, a bit stunned at that interesting little insinuation but mostly just elated by the prospect of a “later”. “We’ll… put a tack in it.” Ladybug nodded, flushed as she idly (distractingly) shifted atop him.

Suffice it to say Adrien was stumped, breath evening out as he continued to regard the girl perched in his lap. Ladybug betrayed no clues, arms draped over his shoulders and head tilted in wait, and Adrien wracked his brain for what to try next. He’d already hit most of their checklist areas, as well a few new spots, and unless Ladybug wanted him to…

…

‘Shit.’

On a wild hunch, Adrien let his hands slowly shift towards her waist… only this time allowing them to edge up towards her ribs.

“Warmer,” Ladybug breathed, diaphragm flexing beneath his grasp with each lovely inhalation.

Adrien ascended one more inch, not trusting himself to speak as he shot her another searching look.

“W-warmer…”

She wasn’t stopping him. God, she wasn’t she stopping him. His hands were now framing the bottoms of her breasts, ready to sprint towards second base, and yet Ladybug was not stopping him.

Adrien’s mouth emitted a sort of pathetic whine, his gaze dropping to…

‘Yep,’ he thought, palms frozen in place yet clammy beneath his gloves. ‘She’s definitely asking me to grope her. On the tits. On the tits on her body. On the tits on her body atop my body. On the tits on her-‘

Why the fuck wasn’t he moving?

“I-if you’re not comfortable with this I understand,” Ladybug mumbled, shifting slightly backwards and bothering her lip in a way that was not at all helping his crippled cognition. She looked equal parts bashful and needy, an expression Adrien was pretty sure ought to be outlawed before it killed someone — namely him.

“It’s just, you’ve never touched me there before… a-and I thought mayb—eep!”

At any other time, Adrien would have found her surprised squeak to be rather cute. Endearing even.

But as his hands eagerly flew up to cup Ladybug’s breasts, melding against their suited peaks with the unbridled enthusiasm of a seventeen-year-old boy, Adrien found there was absolutely nothing about his girlfriend that could be considered cute in that instance.

The way she arched into his touch, encouraging his palms to press snug against her curves was not "cute".

The low exhalation she gave when Adrien — heart in his throat and mind in the gutter — experimentally squeezed at her covered flesh was not "cute".

And, most of all, the way Ladybug felt against him — the rocking of her ardent hips as they sought the friction of his, the rise and fall of her perfect (perfect) chest as it strained against his splayed out fingers, the way she clutched his neck as if to ensure he wouldn’t retreat — was not cute in the slightest.

It was hot. She was hot.

Ladybug was hot and she was his, ripe for the taking as she wiggled atop his kneeling form.

And it.

Was.

Christmas.

“Better?” Adrien asked, voice tinged with desire and hands greedily massaging against her. Though he could just vaguely register the fact Ladybug’s suit was fairly binding, the taut material did little to dampen the sensation of her supple breasts sunk into his grasp, and the weight and warmth of them were better than anything his brain could have concocted for his midnight viewing pleasure.

Because they were exhilaratingly real.

“Yes,” Ladybug murmured, desperate for the touch he was only too willing to grant her. “Much better.” Groaning, Adrien nudged his legs father apart, separating hers along with them as he swooped down to recapture her mouth.

Ladybug was a spitfire, with lips expertly locked with his own, hands scraping along his back and tongue lapping at all the little places that she knew got him hot. She was impossibly better than Adrien ever recalled her being, impossibly more impassioned. And with a firm knead of his left hand atop the plumpest part of her ass (the other still very much preoccupied with her chest), he melted into their roiling embrace

In all his years of living, Adrien had found certain activities tend to bend time around him. Photoshoots stretched out every minute until the clocks seem to tick at half-speed. Miraculous timers grow shorter with each passing akuma.

And kissing Ladybug? Groping Ladybug???

Well that just threw out the rules of time and space completely.

He was reminded of this fact seconds (minutes? hours?) later, when Ladybug drew back with a gasp. And although Adrien’s first instinct was to complain at the loss of contact, the slight burning in his chest and swimming in his head told him that perhaps breathing was more important than kissing sometimes.

If only to insure that there would be more kissing in the future.

“You’re perfect,” he huffed, the words buzzing between their parted and panting mouths. Adrien caught Ladybug’s eyes as he spoke, reveling in the way her blue lenses darkened with each pass of his hand. “Every part of you just feels so… so good.”

She shuddered when one of his fingers dragged in a firm stroke across the peak of a breast, and Adrien silently mapped the location in a mental file folder labelled “Girlfriend’s Sweet Spots.” Just for future reference.

“You say that… b-but you haven’t had every part of me yet,” Ladybug pointed out, words teasing but voice rasping in desire. Then, as if to unnecessarily emphasize what parts he’d yet to encounter, she rocked her hips against his in a devastating, devious grind.

‘Evil… tempting…’ Feeling his body react to her in the most physical of ways, Adrien tightened his grip on her buxom chest with a groan.

“Huh-hopefully we’ll fix that someday…” He sent a not-so-subtle message of his own, bucking his rapidly-forming erection up into the cradle of her legs “Won't we, my Lady?”

 “Yes,” Ladybug hissed, her spine curving in a way that only pressed her tighter against him. “Cha—”

She stopped herself with a shiver, teeth nibbling down on her kiss-swollen bottom lip.

“Yes… Adrien.”

A lip bite and his real name? Now that just wasn’t fair.

Adrien dove down into the crook of Ladybug’s neck. His tongue dashed along her pulse line, lapping at the underside of her jaw in the same instant his hips rose up to meet hers once more, and he was pleased to feel an appreciative little hum buzz up her throat. Spurred by the sound, he tentatively let his teeth come into play, granting Ladybug a flurry of loving nips along the skin exposed by her collar.

When he latched on with a hard suck, she moaned, pitched and broken in his ear.

And that’s when Adrien knew he was well and truly fucked.

It seemed as though her hands were everywhere at once, searching for some fixture to cling to as the occasional jerks of his hips turned into a steady roll against her core, and Adrien rapturously endured the heat as he undulated against her. Every place Ladybug touched him — fingers clawing at his shoulders, grappling at his neck, tracing his abdominals and gliding lower with each circuit across his body — soon became feverish beneath the material of his suit. Tight.

With each shared rock of their bodies and between his patterning of kisses, Adrien whispered encouragement into his Lady’s collarbone. They were sweet nothings, probably far too sappy given the fact they were essentially dry-rutting in an abandoned building, but the little praises seemed to spur her never-the-less.

So praise he did.

“You’re beautiful like this.”

The slender fingers laced in his hair tightened, sending little pricks of pain-pleasure dancing along his scalp, and Adrien responded with another hot, openmouthed kiss to her jaw.

“I mean you’re always beautiful, but especially like this.”

“Ah-Adrien…” Ladybug whimpered as she bore down hard upon his arousal, and Adrien struggled to keep a tight leash on the beast of an orgasm building in his groin. He vaguely felt one of her hands leave the side of his head to scrabble along the ground beside them, but was too far gone to wonder what it sought.

At this point in their high, Adrien’s grip on his self-control was seriously waning, slipping through his fingers like a gossamer thread. The breasts in his hands, the thighs atop his own, it was just all too good. Ladybug was just too good. And, if the ever increasing tightness of his pants was any indication, it wouldn’t be long before he accidently broke that despised agreement between her and Plagg.

Life-ruiners that they were.

With a large inward sigh, Adrien readied himself to retreat. He didn’t want this to end, he wished it didn’t have to. He wished he had more stamina or she had less allure or his suit simply didn’t exi-

 “Mmmmpppphhff~”

Adrien’s forehead snapped up from atop Ladybug’s shoulder, ears ringing with her muffled cry as he turned his gaze forward. Only once before had he heard that particularly spine-tingling keen, and the sound of it –now coupled with the vision of her- nearly made him lose it right then and there.

Chin dipped low, eyes half-lidded and desperate, Ladybug was the very picture of his every fantasy…

But it was the sight of a thick leather strap, the strap of his costume's tail, clenched between her teeth as a gag that really did him in.

‘Oh, for—‘

"Claws in!"

Adrien’s reserve shattered faster than his transformation did as it burst around him, leaving him with a hint of magical whiplash as he flipped his stunned girlfriend beneath him. The tail in her mouth exploded in a flash of bright green, disappearing with the rest of his suit as civilian replaced hero, and the surprised squeak she gave when she suddenly found herself on her back was as endearing as it was arousing.

Crawling over Ladybug with unmatched desire, Adrien was intent on hearing every little sound he could possibly draw out of her… but something about the way she looked at him made him pause. He stilled, hovering above her sprawled out body, frozen despite the waves of heat still coursing beneath his skin.

Because Ladybug wasn’t just looking at him…

She was openly marveling.

Wide-eyed, slack jawed, honest-to-God marveling.

Her blue eyes marveled at his green. They mapped the expanses of his unmasked face as if cataloguing each dip and swell of his features. They slid across his brow, down his cheeks, along his chin and back again, never stopping their appreciative circuit.

Quite simply, Ladybug marveled every inch of him, gaze tactile in a way that made the model feel like he’d never truly been looked at before that moment. It was a little heart-stopping.

Usually when people (photographers, designers) stared at him, Adrien felt like a commodity, an object to be posed and presented. They saw a pretty face to smile beside their products. A nice body to drape with their clothing. A canvas waiting to be completed.

But with Ladybug?

With Ladybug he felt like a person. He felt like a finished masterpiece. And if her dazzled expression was any indication a damn good one at that.

“Like what you see?” Adrien couldn’t help but tease, earning a startled blink from the entranced girl below.

Her continued silence planted tiny seeds of unease in the pit of his stomach.

Ladybug and his civilian self hadn’t interacted out of costume since the Jackady incident a couple of years ago. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that his sudden change in appearance would come as a bit of a shock. Adrien mentally kicked himself for springing it on her mid-makeout.

Letting the cocky grin slide off his face, his expression melted into something much more tender.

“Hey Bugaboo,” he crooned fondly, hoping the nickname would help her reconcile that fact it was still him beneath the shiny new coat of paint.

It took a moment, a few slow blinks and more than one shake of her head, but Ladybug eventually found her bearings. As well as her voice.

“H-hey,” she said, in a tone so incredibly soft and reverent it nearly stopped his heart. Adrien grinned.

“Hey,” he repeated, equally soft and twice as reverent. Now Ladybug grinned.

“Hey.”

Despite their compromising position, they couldn’t help but let out a pair of incredulous giggles.

“Hey.” Adrien dipped down, pressing his lips to the flushed skin of her cheeks.

“Hey.” Ladybug bashfully returned it with a brush of her own.

Back and forth they went, exchanging little “heys” between nose kisses… that turned to mouth kisses… that turned to—

“Yes, we all know each other!” came a disdainful call, neither soft nor reverent. “And you two definitely know what each other’s faces taste like. Now where’s my food?”

Adrien stopped grinning.

Biting back a curse, he ripped his gaze from the lovely image below to settle on a decidedly less-lovely image- the image a tiny black mass, floating around with a devious expression that proved the creature knew exactly what it was he was interrupting.

“You know,” Plagg began, surveying the scene before him, “I think—“

“Anything you want for fifteen minutes of you being gone,” Adrien deadpanned, drawing back to sit on his haunches. He loved his friend, he really did… but he also loved his girlfriend. And the way he wanted to love her right now just couldn’t be done in polite (he used the term loosely) company.

“Fifteen minutes? Now that’s being generous,” the kwami scoffed. “Due to unfortunate personal experience, I know for a fact you never last—“

“Plagg!” Adrien hissed, letting out a long groan of displeasure as Ladybug choked on her spit. After a moment she reeled in her coughing spell, giving him a weak thumbs up that only further fed the flames of embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck.

“Can you just… like… go take a little walk? Or a fly? Basically be anywhere but here? Fifteen minutes, that all I’m asking.”

“What are you going to do with the extra fourteen and a half?”

This time the noise Ladybug made sounded suspiciously like a mix between a snort and a squeak. Suspiciously like a stifled laugh.

“I don’t know!” Adrien yelped, voice growing pitchy and eyes flitting down to where Ladybug lay in a flushed pile beneath him. Plagg’s remarkable ability to extinguish his chosen's most carnal, depraved desires had already set to work, and sadly even the sight of Ladybug (his sexy, sultry, teenage dream Ladybug!) looking positively ravished did little to prevent the softening Adrien felt in his jeans.

He’d worked hard for that boner, dammit! Hell, they’d worked hard for that boner!

That boner had had hopes and dreams, a promising future. That boner was an outstanding citizen, cut down in his very prime. Killed by pussy, in the very worst of ways.

Oh, the irony.

“What if I don’t want to go for a walk?” Plagg said, cutting through Adrien’s mental eulogy with a sniff. “What if I want to have a friendly chat with Ladybug?”

“You don’t like friendly chats,” Adrien reminded him, eye twitching.

“Course I do,” Plagg said with a wave. “You just aren’t that good at having them.” He swung his attention on Ladybug.  “Hi there! It’s been a while, huh?”

Blue eyes blinked in bemusement. “Uh, yeah,” Ladybug replied, peering up as she shifted around on her back. “It’s… good to see you, I guess?”

“Nice talk great talk I loved that talk!” Adrien piped out, using two fingers to make a sort of shooing motion towards the kwami. “But now that we’re done talking—“

“I’m impressed you’ve managed to keep your side of the bargain this long,” Plagg continued, steamrollering Adrien’s attempts to halt the conversation as he darted between the teens.

“Yeah, well,” Ladybug said, sounding devastatingly less aroused by the minute, “I do try and keep my promises.”

Adrien bored his palms into his eye sockets, reeling in a frustrated groan as Ladybug and Plagg continued their idle chatter.

‘No, go ahead,’ he thought sourly, ‘please keep talking. Not like there’s anything better I could be doing right now. Alone with my hot girlfriend. Alone with my hot girlfriend and my bare hands and my removable clothing. Nope, this is definitely what I wanted to happen right now.’

Adrien really needed to start thinking over his spur-of-the-moment decisions more carefully.

“Ah, an honest soul,” Plagg sighed. “How refreshing. Tikki is a lucky gal to have gotten someone like you.”

“Thank you,” Ladybug said, seeming genuinely pleased with the praise.

Figures they would get along just swimmingly.

“Well true to my word, your face is safe with me,” the kwami promised, “so feel free to drag this whole ‘secret identity’ thing out for as long as you like. It’s almost getting funny, really.”

“I—“

“But are you absolutely sure there’s nothing you can do about the whole sleep talking thing?” Plagg gave a huff. “Because let me tell you, that boy has a mouth on him, and I wouldn’t mind making another deal if you could stop all the incessant moaning.”

“Plagg,” Adrien warned, not liking the direction this “friendly chat” was headed.

“You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve heard him mumbling at night!”

“Plagg you—“

“It’s always ‘Ladybug’ this and ‘God’ that,” the kwami chuckled. “I’m starting to think he’s getting the two of you mixed up.”

“Plagg I’m seri—“

“Though at least he has that Ladybug body pillow to—”

“I DO NOT—“

Adrien cleared his throat from where it had cracked at the volume of his outburst, arranging his face in what he hoped was a composed expression of maturity as he glanced down at his incredulous girlfriend. She looked like she either wanted to laugh or cry, and even he wasn’t sure which he’d prefer at this point.

“I’d like to make it clear that I do not own a Ladybug body pillow,” Adrien enunciated.

“Any more…” a smaller voice mumbled.

Unflappable as ever, Plagg didn’t even flinch when his chosen snatched him from the air with a shriek. In fact he seemed downright leisurely as he met Adrien’s pointed stare.

“New offer,” Adrien ground out, shoving his unoccupied hand through his hair in some kind of nervous tic that probably had something to do with the mental breakdown he was experiencing. “You leave us alone for ten minutes and I won’t feed you Kraft Singles for the rest of my miserable life.”

Two pairs of green eyes narrowed at each other, human and deity silently waging war Ladybug looked on in bewilderment.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Plagg threatened.

“You want to test that theory?” Adrien shot back. “You really want to take that risk? I’m crazy, I’ll do it!”

A beat.

“Fine!” Plagg conceded, worming his way out of Adrien’s grasp to flutter on his own. “Enjoy your nine and a half minutes of talking about feelings. Just throw me out into the cold, cold night. Throw me out to the wolves—“

“There aren't any wolves in Paris,” Adrien sighed.

“—and the rabid cats—“

“You… do realize you’re also a cat, right?”

“—and all the other rabid animals that eat cats!” Plagg finished, flying dramatically towards the open window with one paw draped across his forehead.

“Okay bye have fun,” said Adrien, giving a wave for good measure. ‘Leave, leave, leave, leave—’

And, miracle of merciful miracles, he did.

Plagg gave one last roll of his eyes, muttering something about humans and their hormones before making his exit, and Adrien couldn’t help but slump in relief. He’d catch hell from the kwami later, that was a given, but he couldn’t find it in himself to worry about it at the moment. Not while he sat kneeling between Ladybug’s spread legs.

And certainly not while she continued staring at him like he was the very moon and stars.

Adrien grinned, a gesture that was equal parts awe and triumph, as he watched her watch him.

“You’re ogling,” he stated, somehow managing to sound nonchalant despite the giddy giggle trapped in the back of his throat.

How many days/months/years had he spent shamelessly admiring Ladybug, wishing those blue eyes would linger on him just a bit longer? How many patrols had involved him face-planting in the pavement, distracted by her shimmering hair or paralyzing smirk? How many nights had he gone home, thrown himself on his bed and wondered what her appreciation might feel like?

Suffice it to say he’d done his waiting for this moment, and Adrien would be damned if he didn't allow himself to enjoy Ladybug’s speechlessness while it—

“I-I am not ogling!”

—lasted…

“Pardon me for being a bit thrown off by my partner deciding to release his transformation while we were mid-makeout!” Ladybug skewered him with what was probably meant to be an admonishing glare, but the way her ears still flushed an adorable shade of pink ruined the effect.

His smile grew wider still.

“You were the one who kept saying my name,” Adrien tutted back, dropping into a more comfortable crossed-legged position before her. “I figured that was a sign you wanted to see the face that goes with it.” He smirked, leaning down to her eye level. “You know, the face you pinned to the ceiling above your bed.”

“I d-did not say that!” Ladybug sputtered and Adrien howled at the way her face lit up at the tease.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, making a show of wiping away imaginary tears of hilarity. “I just guessed. I was right wasn’t, I? Please tell me you had a poster of me above your bed.”

“I-I… and you… you had a Ladybug body pillow!”

“Had being the key word here. Do you still have my face on your ceiling?”

“Shut up,” Ladybug mumbled, ducking her head and giving his snickering shoulder a playful smack. “I can’t help that you’re handsome.”

Adrien’s eyes snapped up in interest. 

“What was that?” he teased, scooting forward on his butt and leaning down until they were practically nose to nose.

Handsome.

Ladybug thought he was handsome.

“I said you look like a twink,” Ladybug muttered into her collarbone, pulling another laugh from his thumping chest.

“No, no,” Adrien said, heart rate increasing despite his projected aloofness. “I definitely heard the word ‘handsome’ in there somewhere.” He ducked, attempting to draw her gaze, but Ladybug continued to look petulantly away. “Go on, say it again.”

“You look like a twink.”

“Nope, wrong.”

“A goody two shoes.”

“I’ve got all day, Bugaboo.”

Ladybug made fleeting eye contact for the first time since he’d detransformed, lips curling into the tiniest of smiles, and Adrien gave an encouraging “go ahead” gesture.  She straightened her back.

“You look like someone who has a subscription to Cat Fancy,” she said, voice taking on a subtle teasing quality.

“Never miss an issue,” he chirped back.

Ladybug inched forward, smile growing. “You look like the 'After' picture on an infomercial about curing teen baldness.”

“Thanks?” Adrien cocked his head in consideration before giving a decisive nod. “Yeah, I think that one was a compliment.”

“You look like the second runner-up in a Macaulay Culkin lookalike contest.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You look like young Santa Claus.”

“That’s a… baffling comparison. Give me a sec, I’m trying to decide on a pun here.”

“You look like the protagonist of a romantic comedy set on a farm.”

“Which would you prefer?” Adrien mused, unable to stomp down his grin at the return of their easy banter. “The lap sitting angle, or a joke about being on the naughty list?”

“Lap sitting,” Ladybug decided after a brief deliberation. “I like lap sitting.”

Then, as if to solidify her answer, she rocked forward, crawling into his lap and perching sideways atop one of his folded legs.

“Ho ho ho,” Adrien said with a waggle of his eyebrows, pleased to note the cheek he pecked was no longer red beneath his lips. As much as he’d enjoyed Ladybug’s star-struck reaction, it was also nice to see her unwind around him.

Especially when her unwinding entailed draping her arm around his neck and her legs spilling over his lap.

“You look like the love child of a Ken doll and another Ken doll,” Ladybug giggled, apparently not finished with her analysis of his features.

“Wouldn’t that just make me another Ken doll?” Adrien asked, snaking his arm comfortably around her waist. He noted that the texture of Ladybug’s suit was entirely unique, unlike anything he’d seen in his years of being surrounded by textiles, and his bare hands got sidetracked as he mapped out the circular indentations that patterned her costume.

“You look like a Ken doll, then.”

“No fair,” Adrien whined, giving an expert pretty-boy pout for emphasis. “I’m hotter than Ken.”

For a second Ladybug looked ready to agree, but she stopped herself with a playful shrug.

“You look like,” she went on, fingers drumming against his chin as she tilted his head side to side, “the poster boy for a summer camp that teaches abstinence.”

“I might as well be…” he muttered with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

“You like the entire junior’s section at Nordstrom’s gained sentience and congealed into a person.”

“I would get disowned if I wore anything from Nordstrom’s.”

“You look like the guy who shows up fifteen minutes early to the party, brings carrot sticks and french onion dip to share, doesn’t stop petting the dog for the entire night and then helps clean up when everyone goes home."

“Wow, these are getting more and more specific. You have a very colorful imagination, my Lady.”

“Thank you,” Ladybug said primly, clearly proud of her expert appraisal. Those devious (‘kissable,’ Adrien’s mind tacked on) lips twisted into a smirk, parting to spout her next comparison. “You look—“

His hands flew into action, one sealing over her mouth and the other tickling her ribs, and Ladybug cut off with a muffled yelp.

“You know what?” Adrien sang out joyously, keeping a tight grip on the writhing girl as she continued to squeal beneath his palms. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'incredibly handsome', I don’t want to hear it! Either 'incredibly handsome' or 'absolutely breathtaking'. You can take your pick.” His hands lifted.

“All right!” Ladybug gasped the second Adrien released her, batting away both his fingers and his “I’m watching you” expression.

“You l-look…” Her words were punctuated by little pants and giggles, eyes swirling with a buried mischief as she wiggled atop his leg. “You…”

Adrien leaned forward until their noses were pressed together, hands poised around her midsection and eyebrow arched up in a dare.

Ladybug took a comically deep breath.

“You look just like Adrien Agreste!”

The moment the words left her mouth, Marinette leapt to her feet and shot off with a bark of laughter that echoed in the cavernous space, dodging the tricky hands that threatened to snag her as she made her escape.

‘Leave it to him to zero in on the fact I’m ticklish as all hell,’ she thought, scrambling across the wooden plank flooring with a sputtering Adrien hot on her heels. Marinette tried not to feel too smug over the symbolism at play (something poetic about the chaser becoming the chased), and instead allowed herself to enjoy the simple pleasure that came from goofing off with her partner as they crawled around their hideout.

It didn’t matter that said partner just happened to have the same face she’d been fantasizing over for years. The same name she’d lovingly scratched in the margins of her sketchbook. She’d buried the version of herself who got tongue tied around Adrien Agreste months ago — had smacked the girl over the head with a shovel and had even worn a spicy little black number to her funeral.

The ceremony had been lovely, the tears had flowed, but that Marinette was dead and gone.

And this Marinette was not about to let the lingering ghost of some middle school daydream get in the way of her high school reality. Adrien was here now. He wanted Ladybug… and she was the closest thing he was bound to get.

Using the fact she was still very much in costume to her advantage, Marinette flipped herself over the edge of the loft and into the main hangar below. The drop was nearly ten yards, child’s play for a kwami-powered superhero, and her denouement was flawless.

However, the distance was a bit more challenging for a certain supermodel…

“No fair!” Adrien called down, peering over the landing with a pout. “I don’t have my staff!”

“Whose fault is that?” Marinette shot back at him, leisurely pacing around with her hands clasped behind her back. “Maybe you should start thinking things over more—“

“Catch!”

Ladybug’s whipcrack reaction time was probably the only reason Marinette didn’t end up with an Adrien-shaped pancake at her feet. Her hand lashed out the second she registered him leaping from the loft, yo-yo snaking around the building’s upper beams and lifting her from the ground. She swung forward, snapping her damsel midair, and Adrien had the audacity to laugh as his arms cinched around her neck.

Marinette had the insatiable urge to drop his ass.

And drop him she did, waiting until the pair of them dangled about five feet off the ground before unceremoniously dumping her boyfriend in a snickering pile.

 “What the hell!?” Heart still rocketing against her ribs, Marinette remained suspended upside down as she rained her lecture upon him. “You did not just Mary Sue me! I know I didn’t just watch you jump from a fucking ledge!”

“You’ve thrown me off the Eiffel Tower before,” Adrien pointed out, the shit-eating grin he wore as he staggered to his feet looking strangely at home on his boy-next-door features.

“I threw Chat Noir off the Eiffel Tower before,” Marinette corrected, willing her pulse to even out. “There’s a difference. An important one! I know Chat Noir can take a hit, but Adrien is far more…”

Words.

There were supposed to be words coming out of her mouth, but Marinette couldn’t recall a single one of them while her boyfriend regarded her with that distractingly sexy smirk.

“…he’s…”

‘Handsome?’ her mind not-so-helpfully supplied, caught off guard by the way Adrien’s eyes glimmered dark in the low light.

“…y-you’re…”

‘Incredible? Sensitive? Kind?’

The fact that he was inches from her face wasn’t helping matters. Neither was the fact that she was still strung up at perfect eye level.

“How many minutes do you think we have left?” Adrien asked, voice soft and words oh-so-inviting. He had no business looking that put together after being dropped face first onto a dusty storage hangar floor, and Marinette cursed his perpetual state of tidiness as she swung gently before him.

“Probably enough for a bit of fun,” she whispered, letting his desiring gaze fuel her boldness. Adrien’s eyes widened just a smidgen, darting first to the lips she definitely wasn’t biting on purpose, and then to the chest she definitely wasn’t sticking out for emphasis.

“Can I kiss you again?” he breathed.

“I’m always going to say yes,” Marinette assured him, just as quiet in the sudden lull that had enveloped them.

Adrien gave a crooked smile that did a number of dangerous things to her pulse, its effect not at all dampened by being viewed upside down, before lifting his hands to cup her cheeks.

“And I’m always going to listen,” he breathed, seconds before their lips rejoined.

It was a simple kiss.

It was less, in the best of ways. It was less desperate, less questioning. There was no buried fear of attempting too much too fast, since they’d both made it obvious this was so incredibly wanted. It was sweet, even if the strange position led to some awkward nose and chin collisions.

It was the type of kiss young Marinette had always fantasized about sharing with Adrien, sappy and corny and oh so perfect. Almost saccharine in its predictability. The knight in shining armor accepts a kiss from their fair maiden!

(Never mind that their roles had usually been switched in her head. This was almost better.)

Adrien kissed her unabashedly. He kissed her gently enough to demonstrate his care but passionately enough to confirm his need. The tongue that slid between her lips was not demanding in its entrance; it simply arrived because she asked it to, and hers was just as cordial in return. They fed off each other, built off each other. They gave and received in equal measure and with equal desire.

It was a simple kiss. It wasn’t fire.

Until it was.

Drawing upon a sense of grace even unusual for Ladybug, Marinette managed to flip herself right side up with only a momentary break in the kiss. Her hips swung forward, legs twining around his waist, and Adrien immediately gathered her up in arms. Their kiss never ceased as she reeled in her yo-yo with a metallic clang, both of them too thoroughly invested in the rising intensity of their embrace to do anything more than cling, and Marinette soon found her fingers balling into the fabric of his t-shirt with a sort of carnal fervor.

Meanwhile, Adrien became (rougher wasn’t the right word, never for him) more impassioned with his ministrations, pushing and pulling and pressing just a bit more in each place they touched. The hand not supporting her bottom quickly reconnected with her right breast, and Marinette melted into the caress. She was absolute putty in his hands, bending and forming to his careful touch as she tangled her fingers in his hair. She couldn’t have stifled her contented keen if she'd tried.

Marinette slid to the ground, landing on shaky feet but keeping her body glued to his as the hand on her ass began to knead in time with its partner on her chest. ‘Like a cat,’ she mused, having the irrational urge to voice her observation even though they had better things to do than banter.

Much better things.

Marinette’s hands left their silky nest to explore all the expanses rendered bare by his (lack of) covering, desperate to trace every inch of newly exposed skin Adrien had so graciously laid before her. They slid across his broad shoulders. They gripped the side of his neck. They skated down the thin cotton of his chest and then—

Adrien broke the kiss when her fingers snuck their way up the hem of his shirt, pulling back just far enough that their noses could still touch and shooting her a questioning look. A look that, to her, seemed more like he was waiting to see if she was comfortable with the new territory.

Marinette, for her part, took a calming breath, reminding herself there was no need to blush at the sight of her own goddamn boyfriend. Even if he was sporting a fairly obvious semi just inches from where her hand was exploring.

“This isn’t too much, is it?” she whispered. Her fingers itched to trace the shallow trenches she could sense along the bottom of his abdomen, to worm their way along the warmth of his ribs, but she wasn’t so desperately wanton as to forget he needed to have a say in this.

“Like I told you before,” Adrien said with an encouraging smile, hands slowing in their motions to become more of a lazy caress than anything, “I have literally no physical boundaries when it comes to you.” He pecked at her lips, oozing assurance with each increasingly heated press, but Marinette couldn’t help but quirk a brow.

“None?” she probed, mind running through all the physical maladies she could inflict on him with that kind of permission.

He was basically giving her the green light to kick his ass.

“Let’s just say,” Adrien no less than purred, hips swinging just slightly beneath her wandering hands, “if it were up to me and your costume had a zipper…”

He let the sentence dangle with a rakish look, but Marinette wasn’t about to let him get off that easily.

When had she ever?

“If it were up to you?” she prompted, eyes wide and expectant. Her fingers began to work small circles along his abdomen, drawing a semi-nervous laugh from her partner.

“I…”

“What would we be doing, Adrien?” Marinette continued in her best alluring drawl (a pretty damn good one if his gulp was any indication). “If my costume had a zipper?”

“We w-would... that is… If you… a-and…” Adrien wrestled with his mouth, trying and failing to craft a coherent response, and Marinette decided right then and there that she liked it when he stuttered around her.

Emboldened by his uncharacteristic loss for words, she hooked the tip of her pointer finger under the waistband of his jeans. “Cat got your tongue?” she teased at his continued silence. “You know, I’ve found it’s not such a bad sensation once you get used to it.”

“The cat’s not here right now,” Adrien intoned cheekily. “Can I take a message?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, tapping one index finger to the bow of her lips and letting the other delve lower into his waistband. She wasn’t sure which motion drew his shiver but frankly she didn’t care. “Let my boyfriend know he still hasn’t told me what we’d be doing if my costume had a zipper…”

At her hand’s suggestive little yank, Adrien seemed to regain control of his motor functions, letting his hip cant into hers and—

‘Oh that is definitely not a semi any more,’ Marinette thought, eyes snapping open as a tell-tale bulge pressed against her thigh. ‘That is a 100% confirmed erection right there, boy howdy. The most precious Agreste asset wrapped in the highest quality designer denim.’

She'd always did have a thing for couture.

A measure of flushed excitement must have crept onto her face, as Adrien was quick to recover his Chat-like swagger. His mouth twisted into a Cheshire grin, his hands resumed their feline motions, and he leaned down again to capture her gaze.

“You really want to hear what I’d like to do with you?” The words buzzed across her lips, lilting in invitation. “If there was no costume to get in our way?”

Adrien’s hips rolled slow and deliberately into her own, but Marinette forced herself not to buckle. She nodded, not trusting her voice in her current state of arousal, and Adrien bent down to press a kiss against the line of her jaw. They exhaled in tandem, his lips parting to whisper—

“I almost died!”

…

No, Adrien did not whisper “I almost died!” into the crook of her neck.

But Plagg did loudly announce it as he whizzed about their heads.

 “There was a crow,” he went on, either unaware or unconcerned by the way his chosen was nearly vibrating in displeasure just below him. “It was a mean one too! With giant talons and…”

“If you kill him, you can’t be Chat Noir any more,” Marinette whispered, reeling in an incredulous giggle she didn’t think Adrien would appreciate if his sour expression was anything to go by.

“…so it swoops down, cawing like crazy… “

“We had a good run as partners,” Adrien bit out, hands stilling before shifting to settle atop her hips. “I trust you to take care of Paris on your own.”

“…and by the time the feathers had settled…”

“Nope, I still need you, kitty cat,” Marinette said, chest shaking from the strain of holding in her snorts. She would have felt just as disappointed about having her playtime cut short, but Adrien’s absolutely hilarious pout all but erased her annoyance at Plagg’s return.

He was practically frothing.

“…so I hope you had fun doing your weird human mating rituals,” Plagg finished, heaving as big a sigh as a four-inch-tall cat could manage before fluttering down to eye level, “because I almost died!”

“Oh no,” Marinette crooned, detangling herself from their embrace and stepping forward to scoop the little creature up. “Did you hear that? He almost died!”

Adrien’s sputter was almost drowned out by the kwami’s languid purr.

“Finally, someone who appreciates all I sacrifice!” Plagg nestled between her suited fingers, shooting his chosen a smug glance when Marinette brought him up to nuzzle beneath her chin. The look he got in return would have killed a lesser god.

“I cannot believe this,” Adrien said, crossing his arms and regarding them with brows cinched together. “You two have turned on me. Conspired to make my life an unceasing hell.”

“See how dramatic he is?” Plagg sighed, eyes rolling to gaze adoringly up at her. “Not even worried about the fact I almost lost my life.

 Marinette nodded kindly, feeling a corner of her heart soften at the cute little kwami’s flickering tail and bouncing whiskers. Say what you will, but she was convinced she and Plagg were kindred spirits.

Maybe she was a cat person after all.

“Well thank you for risking your well-being for me,” she cooed, bring him up to drop a kiss on his forehead. Adrien noticeably bristled. “You really are my hero.”

“That’s me,” Plagg sighed proudly.

“I’m hallucinating,” Adrien muttered. “I’m dreaming. I’ve got to be dreaming.”

“But right now you’ve got to help Adrien get home for me,” Marinette appealed, scratching under Plagg’s chin for good measure and lifting him to hover in the air.

“Will we… I mean… not that it matters, but…” Plagg wavered before her, his expression taking on an almost hopeful quality before he manually replaced it with one of forced aloofness. “I’m hoping we’ll get to talk some more later,” he sniffed, and if kwamis could blush, Marinette had no doubt he’d be looking more like Tikki at this point.

“Of course we will,” she assured him, genuinely pleased by the toothy smile her answer won. “Just let me know when you’re free and we’ll make it a date.”

“Hallucinating!” Adrien interjected.

With the promise to see him soon and one last scratch behind the ears, Marinette ushered Plagg towards his Miraculous. “Make sure he doesn’t fall off a roof or anything,” she said. “I’m trusting you both to get home in one piece.”

“Can do!” the kwami piped out, giving her an almost familiar wink of his green eyes before spiraling into the silver ring on Adrien’s finger.

Adrien jolted as his transformation took effect, yelping in surprise as the flash of light skated across his body, but Marinette just sat back and marveled as Adrien Agreste turned to Chat Noir right before her eyes.

Ken doll one moment, kinkster the next.

“How…” Adrien (or should she say Chat Noir?) took in deep lungfuls of air, glancing over his body as if trying to comprehend his sudden shift in appearance. “He just… he listened to you. You asked Plagg to do something… and he did it! With a smile no less!”

“I’m good with cats.”

“I can’t believe he has you pinned beneath his scheming little paw,” Adrien huffed, tail flicking in annoyance. “My kitten eyes never work that well on you.”

Marinette grinned. “He’s cute.”

“I’m cute!”

“Well…”

Adrien grumbled again, something indistinct about mangy strays and flighty girlfriends, and Marinette laughed as she padded over.

“I hate to say it, handsome, but you have to run back to the Dream House.” She sighed, giving him a peck on the cheek just because she could. “Barbie must be getting worried, what with you being out this late.”

“Barbie can meet me in the fucking pit,” Adrien muttered darkly. Marinette rolled her eyes, giving him a second kiss, then a third. By the time her lips connected with his cheek for a fifth time, his fabricated mask of annoyance had fled, replaced with an unmistakable look of bliss.

Yep, definitely a cat person.

They parted ways not long after that, Marinette well aware that they both had homework due the next day, but the last kiss they shared was no less exciting than any of the others they’d experienced that night. Shorter, most definitely, but just as electric.

Marinette positively floated all the way home, mind whirling with thoughts far too romanticized for her own good. That she reached her house without accidentally running into a wall was a miracle in and of itself. As was the way she managed to slip through her hatch window without stopping to pluck the petals off of every flower that dotted her balcony.

‘He loves me… he loves me not… he lo—‘

“Shit!” Marinette hissed as her suit fell around her, Tikki giving a sweet (but smug) smile as she popped free of her Miraculous. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…”

The memory of the night’s goal splashed cold water on her lingering desire, and Marinette had to fight the urge to smack her own forehead. Recharging her transformation, bringing her partner to their old hideout— she’d had a plan! One that had been effectively derailed by Adrien’s disgustingly cute (not to mention distracting) requests for kisses.

After she fought herself, Marinette was going to fight Chat Noir.

“You know,” Tikki said about an hour later, reclining in her now-empty box of cookies and regarding the way her chosen lay face down in bed, “you can always tell him you love him tomorrow.”

Marinette screamed into her pillow.