Jun. 9th, 2018

Space

Jun. 9th, 2018 06:32 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 08/12/16

 Back story for Lucky Us, which won’t be updated for a while due to schoolwork I can’t seem to get right.

~*~

When she thinks of him, she thinks of space.

Outer space. Solar systems. Galaxies. Asteroids. 

A vast expanse of nothing that, to the naked eye, appears full.

~

It’s the sunlight she likes best. 

She throws her arms out and spins, one full rotation. The apartment whirls past her: stainless steel kitchen, exposed brick wall, abstract art prints, a canvas set up on a tarp, television, tangerine sofa. 

But it’s the sunlight that leaves its impression. It’s the sun that gives life.

~

She thinks of space.

For example, the complete and utter lack of it on certain nights. The inches that separate them as they walk down the street. The feet between them as they work, each lost in their creative minds. The blocks when he’s home and she’s at the bakery.

For example, the way they can read each other’s minds sometimes. How they crave the same foods without mentioning it to one another. How their hearts beat in perfect sync.

It all looked so full.

~

They were a solar system, the two of them.

Orbiting a star called love.

It was love that fed her designs, love that warmed her mind and coaxed her seedlings to sprout. 

It was love towards which they grew.

~

She learned in one science class or another that things have a habit of leaving their orbits. Gravity weakens. The universe expands.

Who left first, then—him, or her?

~

Her best friend: “Him, obviously.”

But he wasn’t the one being swallowed by darkness.

~

She thinks of space.

For example, the distance from his voice to the meaning of the words he speaks. The miles that separate his gaze from hers. His body, light years away.

The vast expanse of nothing between their hearts that looked so fucking full.

~

Without light, nothing grows.

Without love, nothing grows.

She can’t bear to ask herself where all this nothing came from.

~

In the end she leaves without saying a word. 

(Because in space, no one can hear you scream.)

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 10/05/16

A while ago I wrote some back story for Lucky Us featuring Marinette and her past relationship. Today, it’s Adrien’s turn.

~*~

When he imagines her, he sees a woman standing proud, chin up, back straight, fists ready, commanding authority. He sees the girl who fought bullies for him, who picked him up off the ground and wiped his tears and gave him the last of her chocolate bar. He sees someone who would move heaven and earth to make him smile.

It’s no big secret, then, why he jokingly calls her “mom.”

~

He is not prepared for her to fall apart.

There is no protocol, no warning system, no drills to practice.

One day she is firmly fixed between him and the world, the next she is broken glass and shattered vases and ripped violet curtains and roses scattered on the floor.

He cannot bring these two images together: his knight in shining armor, and the girl who lies sobbing in his arms.

~

Who will save her?

He sits in the hospital waiting room.

Who will save her?

Her father, tense, sits across from him.

Who will be her knight in shining armor?

Both of them think, please God, don’t let me lose her, too.

~

She asks him for a favor. Anything, he says. He’d give her the world if he could.

She says she needs him to love her. He says he already does.

Yes, but not like that, she says. I want to be loved like that, before.

He refuses to think about what comes after before.

~

So he takes up her discarded armor and tries to be brave, for once in his life.

He holds her hand and takes her out because she deserves it. He tells her that she’s beautiful because she is. He says that he loves her because he does, and kisses her the way a lover would.

Then he sits in the hospital waiting room and thinks, please God, don’t let me lose her, too.

~

Inside the suit of armor he remains the same. Still frightened. Still reluctant to move.

Seeing her on the hospital bed—fragile, scared, angry—he hates himself for burdening her with his weakness. He hates himself for forcing her to wear this ridiculous suit for so long.

He vows that he will be braver. Honest. Daring. Someone she can be proud to call her friend.

He vows that she will see him truly happy, before.

(Though he still refuses to acknowledge there is something after before.)

~

Then she dumps him.

It’s not working out, she says, and smiles.

He smiles back.

And the armor falls away, and he starts to cry. 

Because for now, for now, for now, he will not lose her, too.

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 10/19/16

MariChat Week 2 Day 3: HalloweenFEATURINGLucky Us.

~*~

Chat Noir
Boo
Just now

Can someone tell me what the point of Halloween is? As if I don’t play enough dress up in my day to day life, now I’m stuck at a costume party.

No offense if you like it, though. It’s just not my thing.

~

Marinette yelped as a gauze-wrapped mummy bumped into her, almost causing her to drop her phone. She glared at them. “Excuse you,” she snapped, then hurried to catch up to Alya, who wore a witch’s hat and a warty nose that Marinette had customized just for her. The club’s Halloween party was in full swing, monsters and undead things of every sort dancing and drinking and flirting the night away. “How long do we have to be here again?”

Alya looped her arm through Marinette’s. “For as long as it takes you to go home with a handsome stranger.” She noticed her best friend’s sour expression and sighed. “Come on, you’ve been single for months. You can’t keep moping around in the bakery.”

“You’re right. I’ll mope around here instead,” Marinette said. But at least she wasn’t the only person having a bad time. She glanced at her phone again and considered telling Chat Noir she’d been forced to go to a costume party too. And dressed as a wraith, no less. Under her many layers of black she was starting to sweat through her clothes.

She collided with someone.

Both of them jerked backwards. “Sorry,” Marinette said, because she was the one at fault that time.

In front of her stood a tall, rogue-ish blonde in some kind of were-beast costume. Pointed black ears sat on top of his head, half his face had been expertly done in black monster makeup that made Marinette’s ball jointed doll face-ups look like crayon drawings, and rather than wear big furry gloves his hands had also been painted to look like real claws. He wore contacts with green sclera and slitted pupils, which would have been alarming anywhere outside of a costume party.

“No, I’m sorry. I was the one who ran into you,” he said.

Marinette held up a hand. She tried to; it was concealed by the long sleeves of her cloak. “Don’t worry about it. That’s a really great costume.“

The stranger’s smile revealed fake fangs. It was uncharacteristically adorable for someone so tall, dark, and handsome, and somewhat familiar, though Marinette couldn’t place it. “Thanks,” he said, “so is yours.”

Marinette excused herself and pushed her way to the crowd to Alya, who’d flagged down a bartender for drinks. “Where were you?” Alya asked.

“Oh, nowhere.”

Marinette hit reply on Chat Noir’s email. Cheer up, sourpuss. Maybe you’ll run into a cute girl.

His response came a few minutes later: Unless she’s wearing spots, I’m not interested. 

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 01/23/17

Lucky Us drabble.

~*~

Truth be told, she does not expect much

from the person that she’s been emailing all day.

She assumes that when they bid each other farewell

she will never hear from him again.

So imagine her surprise when

she wakes up the next day and finds

“Good morning, Stranger on the Internet”

in her email inbox.

(She hasn’t smiled this hard

in months.)

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/06/17

Today, a Lucky Us drabble… about Chloe.

~*~

She doesn’t hate him.

~

Things have never come easily for her. Not happiness—her spoiled upbringing saw to that; not trust—she’s a politician’s daughter, after all; and certainly not love—an experience that fundamentally involves happiness and trust.

So she was screwed, one way or another.

And then she got sick.

~

It seems she’s always losing things before she has a chance to experience them.

Her mother. Her happiness. Her trust. Her ability to have children.

She figures, what does it matter if her life is among those things?

What does it matter if he is among those things?

~

She doesn’t hate him.

But she’ll be damned if she ever lets him think well of her.

~

Because the way she sees it, she’s a walking corpse. Death haunts her every waking thought. She spends unhealthy amounts of time in the Catacombs and walking through graveyards.

(He saw her in a graveyard, once. Stared at her from the other side of the fence. The living side.)

And the dead have no right to impose themselves upon the living.

~

He’s much too alive, she thinks, to spend his time putting her together.

He’s much too alive to experience the fear of losing her (she still hasn’t forgiven herself for putting Adrien through that).

She wants to hate him for being the kind of guy who would go to the trouble.

~

She doesn’t hate him.

She hates the reporter.

Loathes her for being so beautiful, so interesting, so alive.

But the dead have no right to impose themselves upon the living.

~

So she tells the reporter everything she doesn’t hate about him and watches him drift just out of her reach.

Then she steps onto the dance floor because damn it, she may be a walking corpse

but his music makes her feel so alive.

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 04/12/18

Anonymous: love square request - a lucky us missing scene or after the fact?

OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY adjahlsdkjfhasldkf

~*~

Rain.

It fell in irritable fits throughout the day. Water dripped from everything and puddled everywhere, whispered across the sky in dense gray clouds. Adrien’s eyes followed a droplet as it slid down Marinette’s window, slowed, collided with another, picked up speed, collected more.

His thoughts had gotten lost in another rainy day, more than a year past. A long email. Restless anger. A night without sleep. Haunted by the image of a brokenhearted woman, abandoned with all of her fears.

It had never gone away, that restless anger. That need to do something. That overpowering desire to reach back in time and pull that woman out of the ruins of her confidence and into his arms.

His gaze shifted to Marinette, who stood in her small bedroom coaxing Tikki’s ball-jointed arms into a bright pink raincoat. He stepped away from the window.

Marinette smiled at him as he entered the room. “Hungry yet? I know we planned to go out but I really don’t feel like eating in wet clothes.”

Adrien took Tikki and set her down on Marinette’s desk. Then he turned back to Marinette, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her.

She smiled against his lips and stepped closer to him. But when he ended the kiss and looked into her eyes, her smile faded. “What is it?” she asked.

What indeed? How could he tell her that he was filled with the aching need to make her stop hurting? How did he articulate the desire to kiss away tears she’d shed long before they’d ever met?

He kissed her again. Pulled her hair loose from its ponytail. Lowered a hand to her waist and caressed the skin beneath her shirt with his thumb. He poured love into every touch, love enough to right the wrongs committed against her. Love enough to leave her breathless and asking for more.

An hour passed, and Marinette lay in his arms, pressing feather-light kisses to his chest. He wound a strand of her hair around his finger. Outside, the rain continued to fall.

“Ladybug?”

“Mmm?”

“I want to make you happy. Every single day.” He lowered his chin and kissed her forehead.

Marinette smiled wide. “Silly kitty,” she whispered, “you already do.”

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 03/11/16
Enemies AU Part 1

~*~

The first time Marinette meets Adrien, she misunderstands him. He’s a rich kid, a model, friends with Chloe Bourgeois, signing autographs for his new classmates like any other big-headed celebrity. But there’s something sullen about him, too. She sees it in the way he withdraws during class lectures and free periods, never once making friends. Others are attracted to him, but they never get close. He is a rainy day under the guise of a sunburst, and Marinette can’t help but feel sorry for him, though she isn’t sure why.

~

The first time Ladybug meets Chat Noir, she’s just cleaned up an akuma victim’s mess. She casts her yo-yo, ready to find a safe place to release her transformation, when her feet are swept out from under her. She falls on her back. A silver staff swings towards her and she knocks it aside.

“Not bad,” says a teasing voice. She leaps to her feet and seeks out the source, eyes landing on a masked blonde boy in a black leather suit. He flips the staff,–now the size of a baton–into the air and catches it. “But how much longer can you keep it up knowing your transformation is about to wear off?”

She barely manages to lose him before the magic fades.

~

According to Tikki, Chat Noir has always been Ladybug’s partner.

“Maybe someone ought to tell him that,” Marinette says bitterly.

~

The logic is simple enough. Ladybug can purify an akuma, but Chat Noir is not akumatized. Their powers are evenly matched. With Ladybug’s Miraculous, Hawk Moth will obtain power enough to bring Adrien’s mother home. And doesn’t he miss his mother? Doesn’t he want her back more than anything?

Adrien stands in his father’s shadow as Gabriel Agreste releases another akuma into the city. Of course he wants his mother home. But why do innocent people need to get involved? Why his classmates? They seem nice enough, if only he had the courage to talk to them…

“The faster we capture Ladybug,” Gabriel says, “the less people we hurt.” He stands in front of Adrien and smiles. “Make me proud.”

~

Chat Noir is drawn to Ladybug. Even as he slips from shadow to shadow, waiting for an opportunity to strike, he can’t help but admire her. She’s confident where he is not. She stays behind to reassure his father’s victims. She is so genuinely good and kind and merciful that he finds himself wanting to be comforted, too.

But when she looks at him, her eyes go cold. Then Chat remembers his objective, and his emotions are lost to the howling void inside of him.

~

The turning point happens suddenly.

She’s tired. She’s injured. She’s locked in a freezer with him and there’s no way out.

He thinks of his mother. How close he is to seeing her again. How she’d smile at him and stroke his hair and call his name softly like she used to. The longing is so powerful that it consumes his broken heart.

And then he just… stops.

He looks at Ladybug, sees the anger and fear in her blue eyes. A cataclysm swirls in his right hand. He pulls his arm back, lunges at the girl in front of him, and strikes the wall behind her. A hole opens large enough for her to escape.

Ladybug stares at him in disbelief. His ring beeps. “Take care of the akuma victim,” he says.

She stands on shaking feet and backs towards the hole. Then she grits her teeth, grabs his wrist, and drags him out with her. He’s too shocked to do anything more but be pulled along. Her hand is warm, and he realizes how long it’s been since someone has touched him. When she gets to the roof, she casts him away from her and he lands on his feet, several yards of concrete between them.

She eyes him warily, bathed in moonlight. His green eyes glow in the darkness. His ring beeps again and Ladybug turns, hesitates. “You’d better find somewhere to detransform,” she says before swinging off in pursuit of the akuma.

~

Gabriel is furious. He lashes out at Adrien with his cane, striking his son across the face. “You almost had her,” he bellows. “What were you thinking?”

Adrien was thinking that maybe he was meant to be with Ladybug. He was thinking the idea that they were two halves of the same whole felt right somehow. He was thinking that perhaps he was on the wrong side.

“I’m sorry, father,” he says, cradling his bruised cheek. “It won’t happen again.”

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/12/16
Enemies AU Part 2

~*~

Ladybug doesn’t see Chat Noir for a while after that.

She refuses to admit she’s worried about him.

~

When at last he reappears, he skips his usual banter and goes straight to the task of trying to steal her Miraculous. But even Ladybug can tell his heart isn’t in it. 

He’s sloppy. Frustrated. His green within green eyes conceal nothing, and Ladybug sees the war being waged inside of him.

All at once, she knows that fighting him with her fists isn’t the answer. “Chat,” she says to him, in a tone so gentle that he flinches away from her. “You know we’re supposed to be partners, right?” He doesn’t move. Taking a huge risk, she steps forward, her hand outstretched. “We’re Miraculous holders,” she says. “We’re the good guys.” She keeps moving towards him because she wants to understand him. She needs to understand him. “What does Hawk Moth have over you?”

Chat extends his baton and swings it at her. She leaps out of the way. When she looks at him again, he’s retreating. But he stops for a moment. Clenches his fists at his sides. “He’s my father,” he says.

And then he’s gone.

~

For reasons she can’t explain, Marinette cries herself to sleep that night.

~

Adrien’s rebellion starts subtly. He follows the Ladyblog. Makes friends with the boy who sits next to him in class. Goes on fewer missions, citing exhaustion.

The next time he finds himself mere inches away from Ladybug, he surprises both of them by leaning in with a sinister smile and whispering, “The akuma is in her brooch.”

He gets kicked in the stomach, but he’s never been happier about it.

~

He starts going on patrols of his own.

The first time Ladybug sees him, she whips out her yo-yo, ready for a fight. He gives her a disinterested look and keeps moving.

Sometimes, she tails him to make sure he’s up to no mischief.

Other times, he follows her, always staying within her sight but neither venturing closer nor speaking.

Some nights they sit on rooftops together, her on one side of the building, him on the other. He can’t say when the tension between them dissipates, leaving something like ease in its wake.

~

Marinette doesn’t know what to make of Chat Noir. Part of her is still suspicious of his motives, but another part–a greater part–wants to trust him. She can see that he’s changing. She wants to encourage him, believe in him, appeal to the boy she catches glimpses of whenever he lets his guard down.

Because Chat Noir may not be akumatized, but he’s still in desperate need of a savior.

~

Adrien’s leaving his piano lesson when his father calls and orders him to go after Ladybug.

He transforms and heads directly to the television studio. The sight of fleeing employees tells him where the action is, and snippets of conversation picked up by his sharpened hearing inform him that Ladybug is on the fifth floor, battling not one, but four akumatized villains.

Chat swallows his mounting panic as he leaps up the stairs. What was his father thinking? Five against one–was he really that desperate?

When he reaches the studio, his heart almost stops. Not because Ladybug is on the ground, surrounded, but because the victim, some kind of puppeteer, can’t be more than five years old.

Rage courses through his blood. He’s dimly aware that there will be consequences for his actions, but at the moment he can only think of one thing, and that’s saving the little girl. He grabs his baton and dives into the fight.

~

At first, Ladybug is completely bewildered. She sees Chat and automatically assumes he’s there to make matters worse, but then he launches Lady Wifi into Rogercop and knocks the stylus out of the Illustrator’s grasp.

“What are you doing?” the Puppeteer screams at Chat Noir.

But Chat doesn’t seem to hear. He turns to Ladybug and holds out his hand to her with a determined smile. “What’s the plan, my Lady?”

Ladybug’s heart soars. Joy illuminates every inch of her being as she takes Chat’s hand and lets him pull her to her feet. “We save the day,” she says, throwing him a wink. “Ever done that before?”

“No,” he says, “but I’ve been watching you long enough to figure it out.”

It’s the easiest battle Ladybug has ever fought.

~

“Chat!”

His ring is beeping. So are her earrings. They stare at each other across the roof of the Kids+ building.

“Don’t go back to him,” she says above the rush of the wind.

Chat shrugs. “I have to.”

“No you don’t! We can figure something out!”

“Ladybug.” His smile is tinged with sorrow. “He’s the only family I have left.”

She looks at him with her wide blue eyes, full of concern and the hero’s desire to help the helpless, and Chat comes to a delayed realization: He’s in love with her. He almost laughs, it’s so obvious. She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He crosses the space between them, and in the light of the setting sun, he embraces her. Holds her tight against his body as if he can take all that goodness and purity with him, as if the void inside of him is the only thing large enough to contain it. “Thank you,” he whispers.

He doesn’t give her time to reply before he lets go and takes a running leap off the building.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 03/16/16
Enemies AU Part 3

~*~

Chat anticipates conflict with his father when he slips into his bedroom window.

He doesn’t anticipate an akumatized Gorilla and Nathalie.

~

When Adrien turns up at Le Grand Paris unannounced that night, Chloe thinks it’s a dream come true. 

Until she sees him.

Very little of what he says makes sense. He keeps rubbing his bare ring finger, doesn’t seem to feel the pain of his injuries. The one thing he’s sure of is he needs to get a message to Ladybug. 

A message from Chat Noir.

~

Marinette is watching the news when Mayor Bourgeois comes on and addresses Ladybug. 

There’s an immediate backlash as reporters try to figure out why Chat Noir, a known criminal, would want to meet with Ladybug, the hero of Paris. Even Alya calls Marinette screaming about it.

But there’s no time for Ladybug to clear up any misunderstandings. If Chat entrusted the mayor to deliver an urgent message, something must be wrong. She practically flies to Le Grand Paris after sundown, landing on the roof and calling out for him, her voice tight with panic.

“My Lady.”

A shadowed figure stands at a distance. She takes a step towards him before noticing his ears and tail are missing, and he has a hood over his head. He’s not transformed. She whirls around to keep from seeing his face. “What happened?”

“Hawk Moth took my Miraculous.”

Her breath catches in her throat.

“I know where he’s hiding. I can get the ring back, but I need your help.”

Righteous anger courses through Ladybug’s veins. To think the man would steal from his own son… “Of course I’ll help you, Chat.” She resists the urge to turn around. “But first I need to know if you’re okay.”

He doesn’t answer right away. She hears his footsteps approaching and remembers that, until recently, they were enemies. This could all very well be a trap. But Chat Noir is Ladybug’s partner and she has to trust him. She wants to trust him.

He lowers his forehead to her shoulder. She feels his sobs before she hears them, and her hand comes up to rest on the blonde hair that tickles her cheek. Of course he isn’t okay. Nothing will ever be okay about this.

~

Hawk Moth’s lair is in an abandoned observatory. Ladybug doesn’t sneak in. She doesn’t even try. She bursts into the building and doesn’t slow down before launching herself at the two akuma victims acting as security detail. 

While she fights, Adrien slips past and heads down the corridors he knows by heart. He finds his father in the gutted theater.

“You really have turned against me, haven’t you?” Gabriel murmurs.

“How could you akumatize them? After all they’ve done for us?”

“I merely made them more efficient employees.” He looks down at his son from behind his mask. “Have you forgotten your mother, Adrien? Do you not care about our happiness anymore?”

“This isn’t happiness,” Adrien yells. “It’s revenge! We’re Miraculous holders. We’re supposed to be good.”

“And what good is having this power if I can’t use it to gain back the only person who made my life worth living?”

“But Father…” Adrien’s expression is pained. “What about me?”

Hawk Moth stretches out his arm. In his open hand is Chat Noir’s ring. “If you’re so desperate to make me happy,” he says, “then obey.” He throws it at his son.

Adrien realizes too late that the ring is purple.

~

Ladybug is exhausted. She’s purified two akuma without the use of her Lucky Charm, and Chat hasn’t returned. Fearing that he’s locked in conflict with his father, she runs through the observatory until she reaches the theater.

She hears the beating of butterfly wings everywhere, but there’s no sign of Hawk Moth.

Chat stands in the middle of the room.

“You got the ring!” Ladybug cries. Then her eyes adjust to the darkness and she realizes Chat’s costume is gold, not black. His unruly hair is swept back neatly, and there’s a peaceful smile on his face. “Chat?”

A glowing purple mask appears around his eyes. “I must make my father proud,” he says.

And in that moment, Ladybug is certain she’s never hated anyone as much as she hates Hawk Moth.

 

Partners

Jun. 9th, 2018 06:49 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/22/16
Enemies AU Part 4

~*~

Ladybug is used to Chat making reckless decisions. She’s used to akumatized villains getting so riled by their emotions that they cause their own defeat. She’s used to her opponents being human, flawed.

Golden Boy is neither reckless nor flawed. He is the perfect, dutiful son. He analyzes her every move and grows in confidence as she grows in desperation. And that damnable purple mask keeps appearing around his eyes–those eyes that had recently looked at Ladybug with so much warmth. She can only imagine what Hawk Moth whispers in his son’s ear, the sinister praises he lavishes upon him.

But she fights anyway. She’ll fight as long as she has to if it means she gets Chat back in the end.

“You don’t want this,” she tells him. “This isn’t you!”

She thinks of their silent patrols, of how happy he was taking on the Puppeteer alongside her, of the way he embraced her and thanked her for giving him the benefit of the doubt. Whoever the boy behind the mask is, Ladybug is certain he more closely resembles the grinning joker in the Kids+ building than the stoic and rational predator who closes in on her now. 

And that boy needs her more than ever.

She makes her choice then and there. She reins in her yo-yo, drops her defensive stance, and takes a direct hit from his baton that steals the breath from her lungs and sends her sprawling to the floor.

He advances. She rolls to one side, then the other, gasping for air. He crouches beside her. She’s in so much pain. He reaches a golden glove towards her earrings.

And stops.

The purple mask appears around his eyes, but he doesn’t respond to it. He gets no closer. His serene expression contorts into confusion, then anger, then anguish. Ladybug takes his outstretched hand. “Chat…” She brings it to her earring.

He rips his hand away and staggers back, breathing hard. The purple mask doesn’t fade. He clutches his head. “No,” he whispers. “No, no, no, no!”

A howl tears from his throat, and the akuma bursts out of his ring.

Everything happens in a blur. Chat collapses. Ladybug purifies the butterfly on autopilot and bids it no farewells in her haste to get to him. The gold melts off his suit and she’s never been so happy to see the color black in her life. Ignoring her aching torso, she pulls his head into her lap and lays a hand on his cheek, pleading with him to wake up.

No one has ever rejected an akuma out of their own volition. Ladybug is overwhelmed with fear that he won’t wake up, that he’ll be damaged somehow.

Chat’s eyes open. He looks at her, takes in their surroundings, then covers her hand with his. “Are you alright?” he asks.

And with that simple question, she knows her partner is here to stay.

~

She carries him across the rooftops of Paris on her back. He’s too weak to move around much.

He tells her he has a place to stay during daylight hours as a civilian. A childhood friend who doesn’t mind having him over. But he can’t stay with her at night, and after this evening’s events, he can’t go home. Ladybug has a solution.

She lands on a rooftop terrace atop a bakery and tells Chat to hold on. “I know the person who lives here,” she says. “Once I explain the situation, she’ll be more than happy to help.”

She?” Chat asks, but Ladybug swings over the railing and out of sight. He hears her knock on a window. A creak, followed by her hushed voice, then another creak and a click. He looks around the terrace. There’s a lounge under a small awning, a few flower pots and boxes, a watering can.

A few minutes later, a hatch opens up in the floor and Ladybug reemerges. “You’re all set,” she says. “Since you didn’t use cataclysm, your transformation won’t wear off during the night. You can sleep here for as long as you need to. Wait five minutes before knocking on the skylight. She’ll let you in.”

Chat nods. He wants to say more, but the words won’t come. Ladybug seems to understand. She steps forward and throws her arms around his neck. “I’m glad to have you back, partner,” she whispers, then pulls away and takes a running leap off the building.

Chat is so overcome with love for her that he almost forgets to knock on the skylight. When he does, it takes seconds for the girl on the other side to open it. He almost topples over backwards in shock at the sight of her.

“Hello, Chat Noir,” she says in her all-too familiar voice. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”


mistkitt: (Default)

 Originally Posted: 03/23/16
Enemies AU Part 5

~*~

Adrien is embarrassed. 

He doesn’t mind hiding out at Chloe’s; he’s known her forever. But this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. His classmate. A girl he isn’t very well acquainted with. And she’s friends with Ladybug.

If the situation is as awkward for her as it is for him, she doesn’t show it. She lets him into her large bedroom and launches into an animated account of how Ladybug is a regular customer at the bakery, but it’s a big secret. Hush-hush. Don’t tell anyone. She climbs down the ladder of her loft–a loft!–and shows him to a comfortable chaise lounge, promising she’ll wake him up before sunrise so he can sneak away.

He doesn’t say much. The shock of the night is still fresh and his body feels heavy. Even after Marinette goes to bed, he lays on his side and stares at her furniture, thinking of his father.

He wonders if he’s lonely.

~

The next day, Nathalie is waiting for him outside the school. Chloe is latched onto his arm as always, and he senses the way her muscles tense, the way she instinctively pulls him closer.

Nathalie holds a suitcase out to Adrien. “You need clean clothes,” she says, as if it’s all that needs to be said.

He hesitates, then takes it. For the space of a moment he sees concern, sorrow, and care in his father’s secretary’s eyes. Then she smothers it and turns away, walking back to the car that waits for her on the curb.

~

At the end of the week, Ladybug holds a press conference to alert Paris that Chat Noir is no longer a threat. He was manipulated by Hawk Moth and coerced into his service. To atone for his crimes, he will now be fighting alongside her.

Not everyone is pleased about this. Some even suspect that Ladybug has become a villain, too.

But Alya has faith in them. “If Ladybug says he’s a good guy, then he’s a good guy,” she declares with the utmost confidence. In the row ahead of her, Adrien smiles.

Chat Noir saves Alya from an akuma victim the next day. She dedicates an entire Ladyblog post to him.

~

His entire routine changes. Days at school. Afternoons at Le Grand Paris with Chloe. Evenings patrolling the city with Ladybug. Nights carrying hushed conversations with Marinette about nothing in particular until they’re too sleepy to go on. 

But it’s not just his routine that changes. He embraces the superhero role, saves Paris as if he were born to do it. He cracks jokes and makes a game of trying to fit as many cat puns as he can into a single fight. One evening, sitting on a rooftop with Ladybug, he laughs so hard that he surprises both of them.

“I haven’t laughed like that in years,” he says, his green eyes glowing with pleasure.

Ladybug never complains about his jokes again.

~

When Adrien starts greeting her in the morning, Marinette is equal parts confused and suspicious. 

“I know he hangs with Chloe, but he’s not a bad guy,” Nino assures her. “Just shy and terrible at making friends. We totally misjudged him.”

The next day, Marinette returns Adrien’s greeting. He looks so happy that from then on, she makes sure to greet him first.

~

Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug.

He makes no secret of it. Marinette is a little embarrassed listening to him go on and on about how amazing his Lady is, but his joy is infectious, so she doesn’t stop him. 

Meanwhile, she’s been spending time with Adrien. He joins her group of friends and seems to be coming out of his shell. The more she sees of him, the more she thinks she likes him, until one rainy day he awkwardly offers her his only umbrella and she realizes it’s not a maybe anymore. She likes him. A lot.

When she confesses this to Chat, he is the picture of surprise. “What’s so great about him?” he asks.

Marinette shrugs. “I had a bad first impression of him, but now that I see what he’s really like…” She feels the warmth spread across her cheeks in the darkness. “He’s just so nice. Even though his home life is rough, he never takes it out on anyone. He’s shy, but you can tell he’s a genuinely good person.” She shrugs again. “And I like him.”

Chat is oddly subdued after that, which is fine with her. She’s too embarrassed to keep talking.

~

On weekends, Marinette lets Chat have her bed. He feels horrible about it. Tries to insist he doesn’t want it, but he’s not fooling anyone. The chaise is nice. The bed is better.

One night, they’re simply too tired to argue, so Marinette crawls into the bed with him. He’s stunned speechless. That he manages to fall asleep at all is a testament to his exhaustion.

He wakes up early the next morning and finds his nose buried in someone’s black hair. He’s confused and disoriented. “Ladybug?”

“Mm.”

Why is he in bed with Ladybug? Isn’t this Marinette’s room? “My Lady?”

“Mm.” A little louder this time. She’s still asleep, but no, this is definitely Marinette. She’s wearing Marinette’s clothes.

“Marinette.”

This time, she wakes up. “What is it, Chat?”

“It’s morning,” he says.

She mumbles something along the lines of “see you later” and he carefully extracts himself from her. But he hesitates. He stays. He stares at the girl who is Marinette–without a doubt, she is Marinette Dupain-Cheng–but all he sees is Ladybug. He can’t believe he never saw it before.

Marinette is Ladybug.

~

And he’s in love with her.

He can’t keep it off his face. He’s sure that the whole class has figured it out by the way he looks at her, the way he smiles at her, the way he says her name, the way he finds every excuse to turn around and talk to her.

She must know, too. She becomes increasingly flustered around him. She stops mentioning Adrien to Chat. Even as Ladybug she develops a tendency to come over distracted.

Then one day, she confides in him that she’s working on a birthday present for Adrien. She won’t show him what it is no matter how much he begs.

“What if he doesn’t like it?” she whispers to him as they sit on her bed in the dark.

Chat gives her the cattiest grin he can muster. “Don’t worry,” he says, “whatever it is, he’s going to love it.”

~

On Adrien’s birthday, Marinette arrives at school early for once. She holds the wrapped gift in shaking hands. She knows he gets there before anyone else, and often studies in the empty classroom, so she hopes he’ll be alone now. To give him a handmade present in front of everyone else… she’s sure she’d die of the embarrassment.

She walks into the classroom. Adrien stands by the windows with his back turned to her and Marinette slows to a stop.

Not because she’s nervous, but because there is something so striking about his back.

She’s sure she’s seen it before on someone else.

She’s sure she’s leaned against it a hundred times in the privacy of her bedroom.

When he turns to look at her, a gentle smile lights up his face.

And she knows.

She crosses the room on weak legs. She leaves the gift on Sabrina’s desk. Her shaking hands reach out for him, and he doesn’t flinch when she lays them on either side of his face. “Chat?” she whispers.

He tilts his head in the most innocent and familiar of ways. “Yes, My Lady?”

Marinette kisses him.

It isn’t a very graceful kiss. He’s caught off guard and she’s never kissed anyone before. But when she pulls away, he immediately draws her back in, and when he kisses her she has just enough wits left to figure out how to kiss him back.

Chaton,” she murmurs as he nuzzles her cheek. Her heart pounds in her rib cage and she can feel his smile against her skin. A thought occurs to her then, and she whacks him in the chest. “You knew?”

He won’t stop smiling at her. “Only for a couple of weeks.”

Marinette squeaks. She wants to be furious, but damn it all, he looks so happy and how could she ever be mad about that? “Stop smiling!” she practically begs.

“I can’t!” he cries, and wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her two feet off the floor. “It’s my birthday, and you’re Ladybug, and I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself!”

“Adrien!” Her face can’t possibly get any redder.

He puts her down, exhilarated, glowing. He cups her face and gives her such a look that she feels fire eating away at her insides. “I love you,” he says.

Marinette ducks her head and burrows into his chest. “I love you too.”

“And I’ve been dying to tell you”–his voice breaks–“how grateful I am.” He wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, holds her as if he never wants to let go. “You saved me,” he says, and Marinette’s eyes overflow with tears. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

They stay like that for a long time, separating only when Max walks into the room, stammers, apologizes, and walks back out.

They laugh as Marinette finally gives him her gift: a light blue scarf that he puts on immediately, even though it’s warm in the classroom.

By the time everyone else shows up, it’s obvious that Max has blabbed. The happy couple doesn’t get a moment’s peace for the rest of the day. But they can’t complain. They’ll have all evening to talk–and kiss–in private.

~

Hawk Moth is still on the loose. Adrien doesn’t want to face his father yet, and Marinette doesn’t press him. As Ladybug and Chat Noir, they continue to defend Paris, overcoming every obstacle thrown their way.

The city erects a statue in their honor. Within months it seems no one remembers those bygone days where the Miraculous duo stood against each other instead of together.

One evening, after a particularly difficult battle, Chat stands and watches the purified butterfly fly away, shrinking until it resembles one of the stars dotting the sunset sky. Ladybug’s hand slips into his and threads their fingers together. “Are you okay?” she asks.

Chat, who’s gotten a little taller lately, looks down at her and smiles. “Yeah,” he says, leaning over to rest his forehead against hers. “Never better.”

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/08/16

*walks in a day late to MariChat week with Starbucks* MariChat Week Day 1: Secret Dating.

~

The messenger arrived two hours into the school day.

Like the rest of her classmates, Marinette’s attention was drawn to the enormous flower arrangement that filled the doorway, bursting into the room before the delivery man did. Ms. Mendeleiev lowered her tablet to place her hands on her hips. “Excuse me,” she said, “this is a physics lecture, not a garden.”

Snickers arose. Marinette looked at Alya, who shrugged in response. Your guess is as good as mine.

“Ah, those must be for me!” Chloe cried. She stood from her desk and floated to the delivery man’s side. “I mean, I have so many admirers, it’s only logical.”

“Sit down, Ms. Bourgeois.”

“Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” the delivery man grunted.

Chloe froze. 

Marinette froze. 

A hush fell over the entire room. 

Then the blush crawled up her neck to inhabit her cheeks. She felt the prickle of eyes from every direction. Sabrina had a hand over her mouth, horrified and indignant for Chloe. Alya’s smile overtook her face before she shot up from her chair and waved at the delivery man. “Over here!” She pointed at Marinette with both hands. “She’s right here!”

Marinette couldn’t breathe. He didn’t, she thought. There’s no way. She watched the flower arrangement bounce its way towards her, heard her classmates giggling and whispering more fervently than before as Ms. Mendeleiev urged them all to quiet down. The delivery man set the vase on her desk with a thunk and nodded at her. “Have a good one.”

Despite their teacher’s threats, the class was in uproar. Questions came from everyone, and all at once. Even Alya couldn’t help herself and demanded to know who, what, when, where, and why.

A tiny card was nestled between two roses. Marinette flipped it open.

You’re the cat’s meow.

Oh, she was going to kill him.

In all the commotion, no one noticed Adrien Agreste smothering a very Chat-like grin behind his hand.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 03/08/16

*kicks the door down* MariChat Week Day 2: Cat Costume

~

It was Chat Noir’s second time attending Japan Expo. 

He couldn’t believe he’d gotten away with it last year, but with all the Chat Noir cosplayers walking around, what was one more in the grand scheme of things? This year, there were even more of them. He felt so cheeky that he stopped to pose in a Ladybug and Chat Noir group photo.

His confidence swelled the longer he walked around the convention space unrecognized, until he all but swaggered about, drunk on the thrill of his innocent little deception.

And then someone yanked on his tail.

Chat flailed his arms to regain his balance and turned, ready to politely ask whichever enthusiastic fan girl had a hold on his belt to let go…

…and came face to face with Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

She wore a simple dress with comfortable sandals, her pink bag slung over her shoulder, a convention pass hanging from her neck. She leveled a no-nonsense glare at him, lips pursed, eyebrows raised. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Chat panicked. “What do you mean, person-I’ve-never-met-before?”

“Chat.”

The jig was up. His confidence abandoned him, but a new emotion occupied its space. He approached his princess with a growing smile. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Silly kitty,” Marinette said, wrapping his tail around her wrist. He leaned in towards her and she brushed her lips against his. “I’d know you anywhere.”

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 03/09/16

*thunder rumbles ominously* MariChat Week Day 3: Sin.

~

She couldn’t sleep.

The minutes ticked away. The stars turned above her head. A moonbeam cut into the shape of the skylight shone upon her beating heart, and Marinette wondered if it could see, like she could see, the corruption within.

For once upon a time, she had dedicated herself to a boy who shone like the sun. Her imagination spun fairy tales and fantasies of lovelorn princes in need of her gentle touch. Kindness immeasurable, manners impeccable, a smile that lit every dark corner of her being.

And now.

A shaking exhale.

Not a prince, but a shadow. A face she couldn’t see. A body cloaked in darkness, slinking towards her. Lithe. Seductive. And a voice that commanded her frantic heart:

Notice me.

Such a twisted, gut-wrenching pleasure that filled her as she walked down the street, hyperaware, knowing that he could be anywhere. Watching her. Just out of reach. All clad in leather. Lips curling, a flash of teeth, wrapping around a simple prayer:

Notice me.

How she burned at the memory of his hands in her hair and his lips on her neck and his legs pinning hers and her name on his tongue and his scent on her sheets and his taste on her lips and his heart beating in the palm of her hand.

How she ached and how she yearned.

Consumed by the shame of having lost herself in him so easily.

She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat, she couldn’t concentrate knowing somewhere in Paris her heart was carried daily by a boy with no face, with no name, with no history, with no home.

And her prince, none the wiser. Staring at her from across the courtyard. A little smile playing on the corner of his lips as he lifted his hand in a wave, crushing her under the weight of her sin. 

Stand-Ins

Jun. 9th, 2018 06:55 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/10/16

MariChat Week Day 4: Kittens

~

“Look lively, gentlemen. This is a serious matter.”

“Chat,” Marinette groaned from her blanket cocoon, “what are you doing?”

Chat Noir appeared at the top of her loft ladder. Under his arm he held her black cat plush, its wide eyes and leering grin showing no respect for the serious matter at hand. 

He perched on the edge of her bed with as much care as possible and placed the round plush beside the long cat pillow.

“Soldiers,” he said, addressing the stuffed animals, “Marinette is in a lot of pain today because she is a woman and that’s her cross to bear.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Marinette grumbled.

“On any other day, I would stay here to monitor her recovery, but my civilian duties have called me away this evening. Therefore, as my representatives, the two of you will be ensuring the princess’s comfort.”

Her head poked out from under her blanket, pigtails in disarray. “Since when did my stuffed cats become your representatives?”

Chat blinked at her innocently. “Is that not okay?”

She glared back at him, blushed, and turned away. “It’s fine, I guess.” A moment later she felt the length of the long cat plush against her back. Chat wedged the smaller plush between her arms and her stomach.

“I really am sorry I can’t stay,” he said.

Marinette closed her eyes. “I’ll be fine once the pain killers kick in.” She felt his lips brush her temple and smiled. “Silly kitty.”

He nuzzled her neck before withdrawing, disturbing the bed as little as possible. Her skylight opened with a soft creak. “You gentlemen behave yourselves,” he ordered the plushies, then the door fell shut with a click

Marinette burrowed into her sheets, hugged the stuffed kitten to her aching belly, and drifted to sleep.

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/11/16

I thought to myself, “This prompt could either lean towards sin or pain,” and gosh darn it if I didn’t choose bothMariChat Week Day 5: Trust Me.

~

He knew why she was crying, but she couldn’t know that he knew.

It was her secret to tell, in her own time, and he’d wait no matter how much it hurt him to see her so torn.

In the shadows of her balcony, away from prying eyes, he held her as she sobbed. The sweet night fragrance of the flowers she raised with loving care clashed with the bitter taste of her tears. His clawed hands roamed her back in a manner meant to soothe, but she only cried harder, broken by his gentle touch.

He could end it all with a simple my lady.

But that would be selfish of him.

Instead, he took her hands in his and kissed her knuckles, her wrists. He leaned forward to caress her warm, damp cheek with his lips. She squeaked his name and he kissed the corner of her mouth, then pulled away to show her his sorrowful smile. “It’s alright,” he whispered, though he knew that in her mind it wasn’t alright, and no amount of his telling her so would convince her otherwise. “You can trust me.”

Her expression crumpled, words lost in the tumult of her pain. He understood. I do trust you, her whimper said. More than anyone, her tears continued. From the beginning, her shaking shoulders added. With my life, her heart declared. And I don’t know why this has to be so hard.

Her lips tasted of frustration when they found his in the dark. His clawed hands wound into her loose hair and he pulled her close, bewitched by this girl, so strong and yet so fragile. He marveled at how she could love him enough to be this afraid.

She cried because she wanted to tell him, but thought he’d be angry, thought he would assume she’d toyed with his heart on a whim. If I didn’t want you playing with my heart, I wouldn’t have given it to you, his open-mouthed kiss said. She cried because she still had feelings for Adrien but she couldn’t stop coming back to him. If only you knew how much of a non-issue that is, princess, he thought as he sucked on her collarbone.

Most of all, she cried because deep down, she knew that he knew, was in denial about knowing that he knew. She cried because something kept her from believing that he could know and still kiss her like he needed her, desperately, ardently, with the mask or without the mask, now and forever.

So they burned all their secrets into their skin, and the darkness bore witness to all the things they couldn’t say.

Beach Body

Jun. 9th, 2018 06:57 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 03/12/16

=w=* MariChat Week Day 6: Don’t Touch Him/Her

~

Marinette lay face down on her chaise. Alya sat beside her on the floor, editing the latest Ladyblog post from her laptop computer. “Still, I can’t believe you fell asleep. Didn’t you go there to have fun?”

Marinette, unable to tell Alya that the life of a superhero was very stressful and any chance to sleep was welcome, grumbled something unintelligible instead. She heard the unmistakable sound of a tap on glass. “Your superhero boyfriend is at the window,” Alya said.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Marinette said out of habit, but Alya was already up on her feet and crossing the room.

“Hey Chat.”

“Nice to see you again, Alya. I’ve been meaning to compliment you on your latest Ladyblog posts. They’re quite inspired.”

“You only say that because you’re in them, you lunkhead.”

Footsteps approached Marinette and she felt the heat of Chat’s body looming over her. “What’s wrong with the princess?” he asked. “Marinette? Did you have fun on your vacation?”

“Tons,” she mumbled.

“Funny story, actually. She fell asleep on the beach and–wait, don’t touch her!”

Too late. Chat put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder and her head whipped up, a high-pitched squeal slipping past clenched teeth.

“She got roasted,” Alya concluded.

Chat flailed backwards, now seeing just how pink she was. Her face, her neck, what was visible of her entire upper body–there didn’t seem to be an inch of her torso that wasn’t burned. “I am so sorry,” Chat choked out, hands hovering over Marinette in a desire to both comfort her and keep from hurting her.

Marinette laid her head back down and gave him a grimace. “It’s fine, chaton.”

He stared at her uncertainly. Then his mouth turned up and he snickered. “You fell asleep in the sun?”

Goodbye, chaton. Alya, please throw him out.”

Alya crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s pretty funny.”

“Please throw yourself out while you’re at it.” 
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/13/16

MariChat Week is over! ;O; It’s been a blast writing for my first love in this ridiculous square. Thank y’all for reading. *salutes* Also, have I mentioned I’m dying for a Christmas episode? MariChat Week Day 7: Purring.

~

He came to her in the early morning hours, after the mass and the dinner had wrapped up and the Parisians who weren’t going to party until dawn had gone to bed. Though the night was pitch black and overcast, the streets below were illuminated. He found Marinette staring dreamily out her window at the colorful tree in front of Notre Dame.

“Shame on you, Marinette. How is Père Noël expected to bring you anything if you don’t go to sleep?”

Marinette looked up at Chat, who had perched on her bed and grinned down at her from the loft. “He brought me you, didn’t he?”

Chat clasped both hands to his chest as if he’d been shot by an arrow. “Was that romance? From my princess?” He fell backwards dramatically. “All my heroic feats must have put me at the top of the nice list this year–oh, I like what you’ve done with the place.”

He referred to the strings of lights she’d hung up around her bed. The loft had a soft, warm glow that matched that of the decorated streets. Marinette climbed the ladder and dove onto the bed beside Chat. “How was your night?” she asked.

Chat turned his head towards her. “Not as fun as Christmas ought to be, but I suppose I can’t get everything I want.”

Marinette frowned and crawled up to her pillow. She knew Chat had a troubled home life, but for it to extend to the holidays? He really was unlucky, wasn’t he? “Here, minou,” she said, patting her lap.

Chat flipped onto his hands and knees, grinned, wiggled his backside and pounced. Marinette fought a yelp on her way down, but all thoughts of protest were lost as his arms slipped around her back and he buried his face in her neck with a contented sigh. She giggled, threading her hands into his hair. “This is nice,” he murmured.

“Mmhmm.” Her nails lightly scraped his scalp and she was surprised to feel a vibration against her chest. She thought it was her imagination, but when she repeated the action, she heard the rumble clearly in the silence of the room. “Are you purring, chaton?”

“Yes,” he said, placing a lazy kiss on her neck.

Marinette blushed. “Well, that’s new.” Her fingers trailed down his back. “I like it.”

Chat lifted his head and gazed deep into her eyes, the green of his softened even further by the loft’s intimate lighting. Marinette laid a hand on his cheek and he turned his nose into her palm, his eyes drifting shut. “Marinette…”

Her heart lurched in her chest. “Hmm?”

“I love you.”

She thanked her lucky stars that she was lying down, otherwise she was sure her legs would have given out. It wasn’t like Chat had ever concealed this fact from her, but hearing it spoken out loud… she found herself too tongue-tied by a rush of affection to respond. So she pulled him down, nuzzled his nose, and sank into her pillow as their lips met in a slow and tender kiss.

His purr rumbled on long after they’d separated, stopping only when he fell asleep in her arms. It was then, in the happy haze between passionate kisses and Christmas slumber, that Marinette found the courage to respond.

“I love you, too.”

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 10/17/16

MariChat Week 2 Day 1: Kisses. Didn’t think I’d pass this up, did y’all? *flashes Certified MariChat Trash badge* FEATURINGThe Sidekick!Adrien AU.

~*~

Twenty-one year old Marinette Dupain-Cheng walked the lamp lit streets of Paris on her way home from work. As she passed an alley, an engine revved. Headlights blazed to life and half blinded her. She shielded her eyes. “Chat Noir,” she cried, “what would Ladybug say if she caught you stalking civilian women in the dark?”

He pulled up beside her, the LED screen on his cat helmet’s visor set to a mischievous smirk. “You tell me.” He patted the seat behind him. “Need a ride? We can take the scenic route.”

“I’m tired, kitty. Aren’t you tired?”

“Oh, absolutely. The life of a trust fund baby is so exhausting.”

Marinette put her hands on her hips. The LED visor changed to sad kitten eyes. She laughed and slung her leg over his bike. “Fine,” she said. “I didn’t feel like walking anyway.”

“Hold onto the goods, Princess.”

She grabbed the seat of his jeans.

“The other goods.”

She slid her hands around to his upper thighs. “These goods?” she asked innocently.

“The other other goods.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around his muscular midsection. “Oh, these goods.”

“Keep it in your pants, buginette,” he said before he kicked off and the motorcycle swerved into the street.

Marinette pressed herself against his back and watched the city speed past, a blur of lights and pedestrians startled to see someone other than Ladybug on the back of Chat Noir’s bike. He weaved through traffic with the kind of daring that would have worried her if she hadn’t known PLAGG’s guidance system kept an eye out for their safety. They went far out of the way of her apartment, past her parents’ house, Notre Dame, her old middle school, the Eiffel Tower. He slowed down enough for her to lean back and tilt her head to the night sky, an elated smile on her lips.

Oh, how she loved this boy.

Their ride ended in another alley, a block down the street from her apartment building. Marinette slid off the bike on shaking legs. “How much do I owe you for the Scenic Superhero Sidekick Tour of Paris?” she asked.

“Five hundred Euros.”

“Let’s see.” She unzipped his jacket and kissed his collar. “One.” His neck. “Two.” His throat. “Three.” She pulled his helmet up and kissed his jaw. “Four, and…” She pressed her lips firmly against his. “Five.”

He grinned. “I really need to start charging you more.”

She kissed him again. “That’s your tip,” she said. She scratched under his chin. “Come up and see me sometime, chaton.” And with that she left him in the alley with a lovesick smile that matched her own.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 10/18/16

MariChat Week 2 Day 2: Fairy Tales. If you’ve never watched Thumbelina, here’s a relevant link.

~*~

Chat Noir had been about to doze off in Marinette’s lap when she asked him a question: “What’s your favorite fairy tale?”

His eyes opened. Marinette ran her hand through his hair and they looked at each other with mutual curiosity. “My favorite fairy tale? Thumbelina.”

Marinette’s brow shot up. “Thumbelina?”

“Yup. I think I watched the movie a hundred times when I was a kid. I knew all the songs.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

He sat up and took Marinette’s hand in his. “Let me be your wings,” he sang. “Let me be your only love. Let me take you far beyond the stars…”

Marinette covered her mouth with her free hand and laughed. “Oh my gosh, you weren’t kidding.”

But Chat Noir wasn’t about to let her off the hook. “Let me be your wings. Let me lift you high above. Everything we’re dreaming of will soon be ours,” he crooned.

Marinette tried to hide her blush. “Come on, kitty…”

Anything that you desire, anything at all. Every day I’ll take you higher, and I’ll never let you fall.” He tucked his head under her chin and nuzzled her neck.

Marinette wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down on the bed. “Fine,” she said, “you can be my fairy prince, but only if you stop singing.”

Chat Noir settled against her. “What about you?” he asked.

“Hansel and Gretel,” Marinette replied without skipping a beat. Chat tensed.

“Uh… maybe you shouldn’t be babysitting small children.”

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 10/20/16

Marichat Week 2 Day 4: Bodyguard.

~*~

On a rainy afternoon in Paris, Marinette walked home under the umbrella she had never quite given back to Adrien. Her world was gray and filled with the soft pattering of water droplets on every surface, and she couldn’t help but think the city subdued, its residents tucked away in warm, dry spaces.

Up ahead, she spotted a familiar face. Chat Noir stood at the mouth of an alley, arms folded behind his back, completely soaked. Marinette approached him. “What are you doing, Chat Noir? It’s cold out here,” she said, and held the umbrella over both their heads.

Chat Noir’s teeth chattered. “I know. I was on my way home, but then…” He looked back into the alley.

A mother cat hurried by with a kitten in her mouth. She placed the baby somewhere dry and out of sight, then returned, scooped up another, and repeated the process.

“I tried to help her but she hissed at me,” Chat explained with a sheepish laugh. “So I’m playing bodyguard instead.”

He’d gotten all wet to make sure a cat safely relocated its kittens? Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ll wait with you, then. No sense in you getting even wetter.”

Chat Noir smiled at her. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered up to the umbrella and his smile faded just a bit, then brightened. He pulled Marinette closer to his side. “So your clothes won’t get wet,” he explained.

She arched an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Hands to yourself, kitty.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Camaraderie

Jun. 9th, 2018 07:02 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 10/21/16

Marichat Week 2 Day 5: Behind the Mask.

~*~

Marinette entered her bedroom after a long akuma battle, shut the hatch door—

“Psst!”

—and nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up at the loft. “Oh chaton, again?”

A hand bearing a silver ring appeared over the edge of her bed and waved at her. Marinette sighed.

“Give me a minute.”

This time, at least, she was prepared. She went back down into the kitchen and retrieved some Camembert, explaining to her parents that she’d gotten a sudden vicious craving. She returned upstairs.

Plagg zipped down the moment he smelled the cheese. “Have I ever told you how much I like you?” he said to Marinette before taking the cheese and swallowing it in one gulp. Marinette stroked his head.

“Not even going to savor it, huh?” She produced a second piece in her other hand. Plagg grabbed it, nuzzled her cheek, and flew off to enjoy it in private. Marinette climbed up to the loft and sat at the foot of her bed. “Heard the akuma was a tough one,” she said.

“Nothing me and Ladybug couldn’t handle,” Chat Noir replied, his voice full of confidence. Marinette rolled her eyes. From her perspective, he’d gotten his butt handed to him. “Well,” he added, as if reading her thoughts, “nothing Ladybug couldn’t handle. I think I just got in the way.”

Blonde hair appeared in her peripheral vision; he’d lain at the foot of her bed. Marinette leaned over and thumped her head against his. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. There’s no way Ladybug could save Paris on her own.”

He made a noise she couldn’t interpret. She flicked the back of his head. “I’m serious. You wipe that unhappy look off your face right now. Just because I can’t see it doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s there.”

This time, Chat Noir laughed. “You’re the best, Marinette.”

“Pfft, I know.”

He whacked her with her own pillow. She shoved her hand into his hair and messed it up as thoroughly as she could.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 10/22/16

MariChat Week 2 Day 6: Cookies

~*~

Chat Noir had a built in cookie radar. Marinette would not believe anything else. Every time she baked cookies, he showed up at her house. It went something like this:

She would tell her friends she was bringing cookies to school the next day, then she’d go home to bake them, and Chat Noir would show up within the hour.

“How do you always know?” she demanded as she poured chocolate chips into a bowl full of dough.

Chat Noir leaned against the counter, tail swishing from side to side. “Maybe I patrol by your house every afternoon in the hopes that I’ll sniff them out,” he said.

“Yeah, and maybe you’re full of shit. Do you have this place wired or something?” Marinette smacked Chat Noir’s claw away as he reached in to swipe some dough off the inside of the bowl. “Stop that. If you get food poisoning, who’s going to help Ladybug save Paris?”

“I’ll let you borrow Plagg.”

She rolled her eyes and popped open the oven. On the middle rack sat a tray of cookies, ready to eat. “You’re so lucky I made a batch before you got here,” she said.

“For me?!” Chat Noir hovered over the cookies. His eyes were practically sparkling.

“Let them cool down a bit,” she warned him.

Chat Noir leaned towards Marinette with a seductive smile. “You know,” he purred, “they say if you keep feeding stray cats they’ll never go away.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, then leaned in until they were practically nose to nose. “Maybe I don’t want you to go away,” she said, matching his suggestive tone. Chat Noir’s eyes widened. Under his mask, his face went pink. Marinette laughed out loud and shoved him back. “Get real, chaton!

Chat Noir humphed, picked a cookie off the tray and crammed it in his mouth. “You’re hilarious.” 

Home

Jun. 9th, 2018 07:04 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 10/23/16

MariChat Week 2 Day 7: Scent

~*~

When he started taking cat naps on top of the bakery, he never really thought about why. He took cat naps all over Paris. When he’d had a stressful day, when he wanted to relax outside of the house, he found a cozy spot and laid back for a while. But the bakery kept calling him. He had pleasant dreams up on its roof.

Eventually he figured out that it was the scent. Dough, cinnamon, sugar, chocolate—any number of sweet treats that made him feel like he was asleep inside of a gingerbread house.

Mingled in with that were smaller things. Marinette’s perfume. Fabric. The very smell of the materials that the bakery had been built out of. All of it wrapped itself around him, a warm blanket to guide him safely through his slumbers.

The bakery smelled like a home, he thought. Warm and lively instead of cold, empty, silent halls.

Fingers appeared on the border of the roof, followed by Marinette’s head. The scent of her shampoo tickled Chat Noir’s nose. “Oh good, you’re here. Can you come down for a minute? I need to measure a jacket I’m making for a friend and, well, Papa’s not exactly the standard model.”

Chat Noir sat up and yawned. “Sure,” he said.

“Why do you sleep up here anyway? If you want a nap, you can come inside, you know.”

He blinked at Marinette. “Can I?”

She looked away. Was that a blush on her cheeks? “Hurry up. I need to have the jacket done by tomorrow.” She disappeared over the edge.

Chat Noir smiled. He looked around at the lovely Paris afternoon, took a deep breath of warm, delicious spring air, and followed Marinette indoors. 
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 06/20/16

In fact, why not an entire Single Dadrien drabble?

~*~

Adrien Agreste’s day started at six in the morning. He woke up, showered, shaved, dressed, and walked down the hall to the only other bedroom in his small apartment. There, curled up with her favorite stuffed cat, slept his daughter Emma.

Emma, like most little girls her age, was having a princess phase. Her room had practically become a shrine to Disney’s Frozen (Adrien himself could sing “Let It Go” backwards and forwards). He stepped over various plastic princesses on his way to his daughter’s bedside, reminding himself to scold her for the mess later. At the moment he could only watch her sleep, struck by how much she resembled his late wife: dark hair, button nose, and when she was awake, her fiery temper. He shook his head. “Emma, come on. Time to get up.”

She whined and turned over with exaggerated movements, throwing the covers over her head. Adrien picked her up, blankets and all, and carried her to the bathroom. He sat her on the toilet lid. Pulled the Frozen shower curtain aside. Ran water until it was sufficiently warm. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Emma woke up immediately. “Coffee!”

“Try again.”

She stuck out her bottom lip. “Yogurt.”

Adrien scrubbed her head and took the blanket away from her. “Yogurt and toast coming right up.”

He took the blanket back to her bed and laid out one of the newest outfits his father had made Emma. Then Adrien brewed coffee for himself and prepared Emma’s school lunch while he waited for her to get dressed. No matter what, they always had breakfast together. It was tradition.

Emma, refreshed from her shower, became a chatterbox. She caught Adrien up on the plots of all her favorite cartoons on the way to school, then planted a kiss on his cheek before she ran off, lunchbox flailing at her side. He pretended not to notice the hungry stares of the kindergarten moms as he waited for Emma to go indoors. Before she did, she turned back and waved at him.

Ah, he was going to miss that when she hit her rebellious phase.

Next came work. Straight up fashion from eight to four. Business meetings, papers to be signed, phone calls to make, more coffee to drink. He was grateful for Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who always seemed to know when his energy levels were depleted and brought him something from her parents’ bakery.

After work, Adrien put on an encore performance of his greatest role: Super Dad Who Never Gets Tired. He picked Emma up from her friend’s house and got to work on dinner as soon as they arrived home. Emma ran around his legs and told him all about school: a boy had lost his first tooth and now everyone wanted to lose their teeth, Chloe’s daughter brought an expensive charm bracelet for show and tell, the teacher taught them a new song. When dinner was ready they ate at their small round dining table.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna get married?”

Adrien choked on his food and coughed violently. “What–? Where did that come from?”

“I heard two ladies saying how you should get married.” Emma paused, then gave him a serious look. “I told them they’re wrong.”

Adrien burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself. There was no doubt in his mind that if he ever started dating again, Emma would run off all his potential mates. But rather than entertain the thought, he watched some television with his daughter until her eyelids got droopy, then he helped her change into her pajamas, brush her teeth, and climb into bed.

Later, as he stood at the sink silently scrubbing the dinner plates, he allowed himself to imagine how nice it would be to have someone to talk to. Someone to cuddle with on the sofa. Someone to sleep next to. But as appealing as single fathers were to single women, Adrien knew the truth: not many of them were truly willing to parent a child they hadn’t given birth to.

And Emma Agreste–his little princess, his entire world–deserved better than that.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 06/30/16

A Single Dadrien drabble because it’s 1AM and I’ve lost control of my life. Will be queued for the morning.

~*~

Everything had been ready. Sandwiches cut, wrapped, stowed. Drinks in temperature appropriate containers. Marinette’s pastries nestled in the center of the basket. An excess of napkins on standby. Picnic blanket folded. Sunscreen smeared all over Emma’s nose and arms. 

Then a crack of thunder rattled the glasses in the kitchen cabinets.

Adrien, Marinette, and Emma stood at the living room window, watching the rain fall in torrents. It splattered against the glass almost hatefully. Emma lowered her head and stuck out her bottom lip. “But what about our picnic?” she mumbled.

Adrien looked at Marinette. Marinette looked at him. Her mouth pulled up into a huge smile. “I know what we can do,” she cried. She turned away from the dismal weather, marched over to the dining table, picked up a chair, and carried it into the living room. “Adrien, Emma, would you be so kind as to bring me as many blankets as possible?”

Adrien did as he was told. He went to the linen closet and pulled out all their extra sheets, handing a small stack to Emma, which she promptly ran into the living room with. Marinette was still strategically placing chairs. “We need Christmas lights,” she informed him. “And flashlights, in case the power goes out.”

Adrien nearly collided with Emma on his way back with the Christmas lights; she carried an armful of pillows so large they blocked her view. He put his hand on her head and steered her safely back to Marinette, who by then had assembled a large blanket tent that took up half the living room. She lined the bottom of it with comforters and pillows, then strung up the Christmas lights in a zigzagging pattern and plugged them in. The blanket fort came to life. “Voila!” she said.

Adrien laughed out loud. “What did you do, study babysitting in college?”

“I didn’t, but I could absolutely come up with a theoretical degree plan.” Marinette ushered them towards the fort. “Come on in. Our picnic awaits.”

Thankfully the power did not go out. The trio ate their sandwiches and pastries under a canopy of twinkling lights, laughing over the sound of the rain. Marinette had incorporated the television into the fort—she really did think of everything—so they were able to have a mini movie marathon. And since Marinette hadn’t brought an umbrella and Adrien refused to let her go out in a downpour, she ended up staying through dinner as well.

By the time the rain let up, it was past nine o’clock. Emma lay curled up asleep in her father’s lap. “I should put her to bed,” Adrien said.

“Oh, then I’ll clean up this mess.” Marinette gestured around them.

“No, leave the fort. I kind of feel like sleeping under it myself.” He picked Emma up and stood. “I’ll be right back.”

As Adrien guided his groggy daughter through her bedtime routine, his nerves began to fail. He tucked Emma in and walked to the door with the agonizing knowledge that Marinette was in his living room, and there would be no Emma to act as a buffer between them. He’d have to make proper adult conversation with the beautiful woman who’d stolen his heart. 

He closed Emma’s bedroom door behind him before he could find an excuse to lock himself inside.

Marinette sat in the blanket fort, eyes on her cell phone screen. “According to my weather app, Paris is all rained out for the night.” She smiled at him. “Looks like I can finally get out of your hair.”

Adrien froze. “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not—in my hair. I mean, it’s no trouble, you being here. I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Marinette’s smile widened. “You’re so good and patient with Emma, and finding a babysitter she actually likes has been a trial.” He shook his head. “Not that you’re just a babysitter! You’re more than that. You’re practically family. So don’t feel hurried on my account.”

Marinette giggled and Adrien felt heat rise to his cheeks. “I appreciate the compliment,” she said, “but I really should get going. I promised my parents I’d help them in the bakery tomorrow. Five o’clock wake up call.”

“You just can’t help helping people, can you?”

“I was a superhero in my past life,” she said, then winked at him and sent his heart skittering.

He offered her his umbrella in case it decided to rain again on her way home. She took it gladly. Adrien walked her down the hall to the elevator and pressed the down button for her. He racked his brain for something to say. “Thank you for spending the day with us. It was a lot of fun.”

“You’re very welcome.” Marinette held his umbrella to her chest.

“Maybe next time we’ll make it outdoors before the weather forces us to rethink our plans.”

“Yeah,” she said, “next time.” The elevator doors slid open. She offered him her hand. “I’ll see you Monday?”

Adrien, too tongue-tied to manage anything else, shook it. “Monday,” he agreed. 

He stepped back as she got into the elevator. She waved at him. He waved back. The doors closed between them…

…and Adrien pushed the down button, forcing them open again. Marinette blinked in surprise as he stepped into the elevator with her. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I just really need to get my shit together.” 

And with that he took her face in both his hands and kissed her. The elevator doors slid shut as she immediately moved closer to him, leaning his umbrella against the corner so she could lay her hands on his chest. He hadn’t kissed a woman in so many years that it was clumsy at first. But Marinette didn’t seem to mind. She returned his gentle kiss with an eagerness that made his stomach bottom out—or perhaps that was just the elevator, but he felt lightheaded nonetheless. Her lips were slick with gloss and fit against his perfectly. He could have kissed her all night had they not been in a public elevator, which reached the ground floor of the apartment building much sooner than he wanted. 

They broke away before the doors opened, Marinette fumbling for his umbrella and almost dropping it. He walked her out to the street, dazed and happy and uncertain and terrified all at once. The air was thick with the smell of rain.

Marinette looked up at him shyly, grappling with the smile that wanted to take over her face. Adrien kissed her again to reassure her she had every reason to smile. “Good night,” he said. He could have sworn there were stars in her eyes.

“Good night,” she whispered. 
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 07/27/16
I have a prompt for you, inspired a joke told by Stephen Colbert. Three year olds are hard to negotiate with, for not getting that toy and refusing to be appeased, kid screams "YOU'RE NOT MY DAD" loudly in the store. It doesn't help to run out of that store with the kid in your arms still screaming that.

Been holding onto this one for a couple weeks. I KNOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY BUT IT TURNED INTO ANGST I’m sorry.

~*~

Tantrums were Adrien’s least favorite part of the day.

With the loss of his wife still so recent, he didn’t know how he was supposed to manage his own grief, let alone his three year old daughter’s. Emma had gone through a period of sullenness as the ache of loss spread through her tiny body. But she was a spirited child. Sullenness didn’t suit her.

Screaming bloody murder in the grocery store did.

“I want it!” she sobbed, pointing one stubby finger at a candy display.

Adrien squinted at her through tired eyes. “Emma, we have enough candy at home. Can you wait until we get home?”

“No!” She stamped her foot. Tears rolled down her red face.

“You won’t get any candy at all if you keep acting like this,” he said.

No,” Emma shrieked again, balling her hands into fists. “You’re not my daddy! You’re not!”

Adrien’s face darkened. Ignoring the stares of onlookers—some discreet, some blatant—he picked Emma up and carried her out of the store. “You’re not my daddy!” she screamed all the way to the car. He buckled her into her seat and went around to the driver’s side. 

Emma sobbed herself hoarse on the road to Gabriel Agreste’s mansion. Adrien called ahead to let Nathalie know he was headed over. When he reached the house, the garage door was open. Gabriel himself stood beside the family’s private car, Nathalie waiting behind him. As soon as Adrien cut off the engine Nathalie came forward and extracted the exhausted Emma from her car seat. 

Adrien sat perfectly still as Nathalie carried his daughter away, whispering soothing words to her.

Father and son remained alone in the garage. 

Gabriel knocked gently on the car window. Adrien rolled it down. Neither of them spoke. Then Adrien lowered his head to the steering wheel and broke down crying.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 08/01/16

~*~

Ladybug stood on the roof of a building, bathed in the light of the moon. “I’ve got a bad boy and that’s alright with me,” she sang to herself. Down below, an entire wedding party filled the street, dancing in sync, their faces pulled back into terrified smiles. “His dirty laundry is nothing that I can’t keep clean…” She heard the scrape of steel-toed boots against ceramic tiles. “And when he needs an alibi, he can use me all night…” A warm pair of lips pressed into her neck. “Ooh, what a surprise, chaton!

“Please, like I could ever surprise you,” Adrien murmured into her shoulder. “What’s going on down there?”

“Our akuma victim is a disgruntled choreographer. Didn’t you notice half the city dancing on your way here?”

“I thought everyone was just in a really good mood.”

Ladybug turned to face him. He wore his typical leather jacket, ripped jeans, biker gloves, and steel-toed boots. Hidden somewhere in that jacket was the staff he’d special ordered for saving the day alongside her. She slipped her hands into it to leech some of his body heat. “I need a distraction,” she said. “Will you be my lucky charm?”

“Aren’t I always?” Adrien fixed her with a goofy smile.

She rolled her eyes and pushed him away from her. “Get down there. And be careful.”

“As you wish, My Lady.” He kissed her hand before heading off to the fire escape. Ladybug turned back to watch the scene unfold. 

She worried about Adrien. That much hadn’t changed in the two years they’d been working together. He had all the recklessness of a teenager who thought he’d never get hurt, but none of the superpowers. She wished she could laugh off the close calls like he did. She wished she could share his unrelenting faith that she would never let him down.

But she was only human underneath the mask.

“You there,” the akuma victim cried, “why are you off beat?”

Ladybug followed his pointing finger. Adrien had planted himself in the crowd and started mimicking the other dances, but of course he couldn’t keep up with their frenetic pace. He stopped dancing and ran a sheepish hand through his hair. “Sorry, looks like I practiced the wrong song!” he said, then dove out of the way of a suspicious purple beam. The akuma victim pointed a cane at him and fired another beam, missing by a hair.  

Showtime. Ladybug swung off the roof and snatched the cane out of the choreographer’s hand. One twist of her wrists snapped the cane in two. She caught the telltale purple butterfly in her compact, waited for the purifying light to fade, then let it go.

The wedding party stopped dancing with grateful sighs. The choreographer fell to his knees, warped akuma costume fading away and leaving behind a very confused middle-aged man.

Ladybug made sure everyone was okay—and declined to stay and have some champagne—before she excused herself from the scene. She found Adrien waiting for her in a nearby alley, leaning on his motorcycle. “I had no idea you were such a terrible dancer,” she said.

“Didn’t you hear? Cats don’t dance.” Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist. “Up for patrol?”

Ladybug sighed. “My roommate will probably want to talk about this akuma attack in detail. She’ll be suspicious if I’m not home.” His disappointed whine made her laugh. “Tomorrow,” she promised. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, effectively wiping the frown off his face.

“I don’t suppose I can drive you home?” Adrien said against her lips.

Ladybug pulled back and tapped his nose. “Nope.” She ducked out of his arms and ran off giggling into the night. “Get some sleep, hot stuff!” 
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 08/05/16

Fic time!

~*~

They say you can’t help who you fall in love with. Marinette Dupain-Cheng knows that to be untrue.

There comes a point where you must make a choice. Will you allow yourself to entertain romantic thoughts about someone who’s caught your eye? Will you give in to the urge to imagine their arms wrapped around you, their lips tickling your skin? And once the urge has been given into, will you indulge in those fantasies often?

Marinette has nipped many a crush in the bud. As Ladybug, she cannot afford to be careless. With every handsome face there comes the question: Is this someone who will be cool with keeping her secret in the long run? Most of the time, she’s too scared to even consider it.

She stands in line at the grocery store, her eyes on a nearby magazine rack. Adrien Agreste graces the cover of a men’s rag, dressed in a suit, pulling at his tie like he’s just come home from a long day at work and can’t wait to get out of his clothes. His hair is slicked back, his gaze focused. Intense. Adrien Agreste: On Modeling and Business, the tagline reads.

Marinette’s fingers tighten around the handle of her grocery basket. The person ahead of her is almost done. She pushes a short lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly aware of how flushed her face is. Like she’s been caught doing something naughty. 

But that’s ridiculous; no one is looking at her. No one notices when she slips the magazine into her basket. Nobody cares.

Except her.

~

She knows that Adrien is in love with her. He hides it about as well as he hid his identity from her: not at all.

When she’s Ladybug, she can think a little clearer. She reminds herself that he’s in love with her superhero persona, not the girl who lets eggs roll off the counter because she can’t ever seem to remember that it’s slanted.

And yet, Ladybug is that girl.

She lies back in bed, holding the magazine over her head, open to the article. Her index finger taps the center of Adrien’s chest and slides down to his stomach. 

The glossy page is a poor substitute for the real thing.

~

The akuma throws Adrien right at her.

She catches him, of course, but they still end up tumbling to the ground in a heap.

He kneels over her, his hands on either side of her body. A stunned moment passes before his eyes go half mast and a lazy grin spreads across his face. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he says.

She’s grateful for the darkness. His proximity summons a blush to every inch of her skin. “Get off me!” she yells, shoving him much harder than she meant to.

Adrien blinks at her, surprised.

She looks away. “Focus on the akuma, chaton.”

~

No one could blame her for falling in love with her best friend. It seemed the most logical conclusion to two years of partnership, one long-distance, one up close and personal.

She can’t even war with herself about it. Buying the magazine, indulging the fantasies, burning with desire—those were her choices. Conscious decisions made in the light of day.

It takes another akuma, another evening, for her to get up the courage to make her feelings known. His pained cries still ring in her ears even after the Miraculous Cure heals his broken leg. His expression is apologetic as she marches toward him on the rooftop. He’s probably expecting a jab in the chest, harsh words about his carelessness, and she can’t help but curse him for having the audacity to be so handsome when she wants to be mad at him.

She grabs him by the open ends of his leather jacket and yanks him forward. Her lips crash against his. There’s nothing romantic or graceful about it, just four seconds of pure frustration pouring from her body into his. She draws back, but doesn’t let go of his jacket. 

“Stupid cat,” she whispers.

His hands settle on her upper arms as he leans in toward her.

“Stupid boy,” she murmurs against the corner of his mouth before he captures her lips in a much gentler kiss.

Stupid me, she thinks as her hands slide into his jacket, spread across his warm chest, and sink down to his stomach.

Much better than a magazine.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 08/06/16

It’s 1:06AM and I’m writing Adrinette. How the tables turn. 8V

~*~

Marinette’s dinner parties were exclusive. 

So exclusive, in fact, that her own roommate needed an invitation to attend. They happened twice, maybe three times a year. Marinette would try out some new recipes for a few weeks and once she was satisfied with the finished result, she sent invitations. Personally designed. On nice stationery.

This would be the fourth dinner party Adrien had been invited to—the first since he discovered Marinette was Ladybug.

He wore a nice shirt, a tie, slacks, and his best pair of glasses. Not because he wanted to look good in front of her (though he did), but because there was a dress code

Who knew his girlfriend had an even cuter side to her beneath the mask?

Nino sat on the sofa beside him, looking uncomfortable in a suit jacket and dress shoes. Alya had scheduled a hair appointment just for the occasion and wouldn’t arrive for another half hour. From the kitchen they heard Marinette humming. Delicious smells filled the tiny apartment and their minds with foodie fantasies.

The humming stopped. “Adrien? Will you please help me with this?” Marinette called.

Nino stood from the sofa. “You go do that. I’m hitting up the restroom.”

They went their separate ways, Nino vanishing into the hall, Adrien making his way to the kitchen. 

Marinette wore a short sundress, a silk headband, flats, and her Miraculous stones. The wide expanse of her neck and chest drew Adrien’s gaze like a magnet. His mouth watered for reasons that had nothing to do with the food. “You summoned me, my Lady?”

Marinette turned away from the stove and looked him over. “It’s nice to see you without the hoodie,” she said.

“It’s nice to see you without the suit,” he replied.

She walked his way, a playful swing in her hips. “Your ensemble is missing something, though.”

“Oh?”

Marinette fingered his shirt collar as if to straighten it, then flipped it down and pressed her lips to it, leaving a perfect, pink lipstick print just out of sight. She turned it back up. “Much better.”

Adrien wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. “How am I supposed to explain that to maid?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

Marinette caught his bottom lip between hers. “Make something up, handsome boy,” she breathed. 

In the short time it took for Nino to come out of the bathroom, Marinette’s lipstick found its way onto Adrien’s mouth, Adrien’s hands found their way into her dress, and Marinette’s headband almost found itself tied around her wrists. 

But this was a dinner party. An exclusive dinner party. Mouths were dabbed at with napkins, clothes were straightened, lipstick was reapplied, and burning desires were transferred to the food. 
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 08/08/16

This is me, posting from the past. Thought I’d leave one more sidekick!Adrien AU drabble before I attempt to control my internet addiction. SIN WARNING.

~*~

“Adrien… what is this?”

Clearly it was a hotel suite. Over on the dining table were lit candles and two delicate slices of chocolate cake. Ladybug turned a questioning smile on her boyfriend, only to lose it, along with all the blood in her cheeks. “You’re not proposing to me, are you?”

Adrien laughed out loud. “Ladybug.” He took hold of her face. “As much as I love you”—he kissed her—“and I do love you”—she giggled—“I won’t propose to you or have sex with you until I know your name.”

“I wasn’t asking about sex.”

“It was on your mind. I could see it in your eyes, buginette.”

She laughed, grabbed his hands and held them between their bodies. “Okay then. What is it?”

“You really don’t remember?” Adrien asked. She shook her head once, biting back a sheepish grin. “It’s our anniversary.”

Ladybug gasped and staggered away from him. “It is?” She patted herself down in several places, turned in a circle, then lunged back and peppered his mouth with apologetic kisses before separating from him again. “I am so sorry. Wait, which one is it? Our partner anniversary or our partner anniversary?”

“Umm,” Adrien said.

“I’m such a piece of crap. It didn’t even—see, this is why I can’t get married. My mind is in a million different places at once. I probably won’t even remember I have a husband until I get hungry and heaven forbid I ever have a baby! I’ll probably leave it on the kitchen counter or in the laundry basket or inside the bathroom cabinet and why are you laughing at me?

“Because you’re being completely ridiculous.” Adrien wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Relax. If I didn’t have to keep such a strict schedule, I’d forget these things, too.”

“How long have we been dating?”

“One year, five months, and eighteen days,” he replied instantly. Ladybug buried her face in her hands. Adrien steered her toward the table. “But who’s counting, really? Have some cake.”

Ladybug dropped into her chair like a wet bean bag. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Eat your cake.”

She ate her cake. The rich fudge taste was exquisite; almost enough to rival her parents’ cake. Almost.

She wanted to kick herself for letting the anniversary slip her mind. They’d been partners for five years. The least she could have done was get Adrien a present, like the scarf she’d knitted him the year before. She licked chocolate frosting off her fork and racked her brain for ideas. What did she have on hand?

Across from her, Adrien shrugged off his leather jacket. Underneath he wore a dress shirt and a haphazardly knotted tie, reminding Ladybug that the akuma they’d fought that afternoon had struck right around the hour most people headed home from work. He hadn’t had time to change, the poor thing, but he’d given Ladybug exactly what she needed.

She stood and blew out the candles. Adrien eyed her uncertainly as she approached. She smiled, perched on his legs, and began to undo his tie. The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple was rather satisfying, she had to admit. “My Lady?” His voice had risen in pitch. Cute.

“Shh, I’m re-purposing this. You can have it back later.” She judged the length of the tie. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Adrien said.

Ladybug paused, her mission temporarily delayed by the warm, fuzzy feeling that spread through her body. Love, she reminded herself. You love him. “Good,” she said, then slid the tie over his eyes.

Adrien froze, but he didn’t stop her. He didn’t crack a single joke. He kept his hands to himself. Ladybug couldn’t help but think of cats—the way they shut down for a few seconds when something unexpected touched their bodies, then squirmed away. She secured the knot and dropped her hands into her lap. “Tikki,” she said, “spots off.”

A bright flash of pink light illuminated the hotel room, then everything went dim again. Marinette Dupain-Cheng sat shaking on her blindfolded boyfriend’s knees. His lips had parted in surprise, but no words came forth. It was up to her to break the silence. “Hi,” she whispered.

Adrien breathed out a nervous laugh. “Hi,” he whispered back.

Marinette reached for one of his hands and brought it up to her face. His fingers immediately felt for Ladybug’s mask. They found nothing but freckled skin. “Hi,” she said again.

Adrien pulled her towards him. She laid her forehead against his, wishing she could look into his beautiful eyes, that she could watch them drink her in. He threaded his fingers through her short hair. “This is…” He shook his head. “Buginette, I…”

Marinette put a finger over his lips. Bare finger. Bare hand. He’d never felt her bare hands before. She slid it down to his neck and kissed the corner of his mouth. He nuzzled her cheek. Her lips swept over his, just barely touching them. “I don’t want to talk,” she said.

Adrien’s lips nudged hers. “Why not?”

Her other hand settled on his chest, just above his rapidly beating heart. “Because I’m afraid I’ll tell you my name.”

He kissed her. All at once his hands were everywhere: her upper arms, her waist, her legs. Places that had never felt the warmth of his skin, now ignited by the spark between them. His pace was torturous; he kissed her as if he were rediscovering her, inch by slow, burning inch. But it didn’t stay that way for long. His mind eventually caught up with the realization that this was the girl under the mask, sitting on his lap, and he kissed her with the urgency of a man drowning. She threw decency out the window and straddled him, wanting—needing to be closer. As if feeling every contour of her body would make up for his being unable to see her.

He picked her up and pushed her onto the table, knocking plates and candles out of the way in his haste to get her under him. It was hard to think with her bare legs—she’d worn a skirt of all things—wrapped around his waist and her nails digging into his scalp and her tongue making bold passes at his. His hand slid up her shirt and roamed her back, but didn’t dare go anywhere else.

Adrien,” she moaned when his lips left hers in pursuit of her neck.

“You’re making it very difficult for me to stick to my morals here,” he complained. Her breathless laugh drew him back to her mouth and he kissed her a little less frantically. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered.

“No, listen.” He kissed the very tops of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, territory he had never been able to kiss before. “I love you,” he said. “You like claiming you’re a different person without the mask, but that’s bullshit, Ladybug. If you were a different person, you wouldn’t be kissing me.”

“I shouldn’t be kissing you.”

“It’s a little late for that.” He kissed her for emphasis. “I respect your desire to keep your identity a secret. I really do. But I need you to understand that I don’t just love the mask.” He caressed her cheek. “I love the girl who’s brave enough to put on that mask every day.”

Marinette curled herself around him in a tight embrace to keep from ripping his makeshift blindfold off. “I love you too,” she said. “I’m sorry I forgot our anniversary.”

Adrien kissed her temple. “You have more than made up for that.” 
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally Posted: 08/16/16

Sidekick!Adrien AU… the reveal.

~*~

Reckless. Irresponsible. Bullheaded.

Words Adrien could have used to describe himself, tearing through the streets of Paris as if speed limits had never been invented. Words that Ladybug had called him an uncountable number of times. Words she would now have to hear herself called.

When she woke up. After her fever broke.

Damn her.

Reckless. Irresponsible. Bullheaded.

He’d never wipe that memory of her hitting the pavement from his mind.

~

He pulled into the garage. Cut the engine. The door rattled shut, muting the rain, plunging the room into darkness.

Moments later, a bright pink flash.

The yo-yo string that kept her secured to him vanished. She slid to the side… and landed in the crook of his outstretched arm, limp as a doll. The hood of his jacket, which he’d thrown over her in a desperate attempt to keep her dry, flipped back.

There was no “don’t look” option.

Water dripped off Adrien’s helmet and landed on the flushed cheek of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

~

No servants wandered the house this time of night. Adrien’s boots squeaked across the mansion’s polished floors, all the way to his bedroom. He kept a leisurely pace, knowing the security feeds would only show a loop of an empty corridor in the morning. He maneuvered the door open without disturbing his Lady or the faintly glowing creature unconscious on her chest.

No need for lights. He lowered Marinette onto his bed and, with utmost care, scooped the alien being into his gloved hands. Its eyes fluttered open. Brilliant blue. “Chat Noir?”

He retrieved a name from the memory of a different night. “Hello, Tikki.”

A shiver went through her tiny form. He placed her on top of a pillow, then turned back to his Lady.

To Marinette.

First, he removed the soaked hoodie. Then her shoes. He ripped edges of sheets out from under the mattress, not looking at Tikki though he felt her looking at him. He moved Marinette to the center of the bed, covered her with the blankets, the comforter. She snuggled into them like a child.

He went to take a shower.

~

Marinette woke up to the sound of rain splattering against glass. The intoxicating scent of her boyfriend’s perfume filled her nostrils and drew a happy sigh from her parted lips. He must have been close by. She opened her eyes.

Tikki lay on the pillow beside her.

Two things came immediately to Marinette’s mind: she wasn’t Ladybug, and she wasn’t home. The third realization arrived a bit slower, and drew her eyes a little higher, to the man seated at his desk, awash in the glow of four computer monitors and the gray light of dawn, cheek resting on his upturned palm, regarding her with calculated interest.

Her mouth went dry.

Adrien didn’t move at first. He held her gaze, betraying nothing. Then he stood from the desk chair and approached the bed.

Instinct begged Marinette to run and hide, but there was nowhere to go.

He lowered himself beside her. Lifted his arm. Pressed his wrist to her forehead, the back of her neck. “Still a little warm.”

“Adrien—”

“I should have known,” he continued, his voice gentler but not by much. “You both have that annoying habit of running yourselves ragged.” His fingers caressed the apple of her cheek. His face was inches away from hers. “How could you scare me like that?”

Marinette pursed her lips and averted her gaze. She noticed Tikki had left the pillow for some other corner of the room to give them privacy. “You’re one to talk,” she muttered. “Consider it payback for all the times you’ve scared me.”

Adrien’s other hand slid into her hair. “That’s a shitty game to play, my Lady.”

She leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut, heart beating out a frantic rhythm. “I’m sorry.” It was a layered apology, weighed down by all the days she’d stood by his side and hadn’t told him who she was.

He kissed the bridge of her nose. “These freckles are adorable,” he murmured. “They almost make me want to forgive you.”

Marinette, still feverish, felt her face grow even warmer. “I have them on my shoulders, too…”

“Is that right?” Adrien’s hand slid down, taking the collar of her shirt with it. “Ah.” He trailed kisses along her bare shoulder. “I’m finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at you,” he whispered.

Marinette tilted her head back as his lips traveled up her neck. “Now you know how I feel.” 

He moved away from her. She opened her eyes, ready to protest, and found herself lost in the intensity of his stare. That vivid green, always watching her. Captivated from the start. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Marinette.”

“Yes?”

He smiled. “I finally know your name,” he said, and nuzzled her hand with an affection that left her breathless. “Marinette.” He pressed her hand to his chest. His heart beat almost as fast as hers did. “I’m in love with a girl named Marinette.”

She kissed him—hard like the first time, then softer, like the second. His arms were around her waist instantly. She pressed her body into his, wanting to feel his heart pounding against her own. He pulled back to get an eyeful of her flushed face before leaning into the kiss again, breathing her name into her mouth. And she dragged him down into the bed with her, praying for time to stop so they could keep sinking further and further and further. 
mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 08/17/16

Sidekick!Adrien AU. Some shameless Ladrien to celebrate the fact that MY THESIS OUTLINE GOT APPROVED. GOODBYE FREEDOM.

~*~

Ladybug’s knowledge of relationships could not be considered much. Over the course of her teenage years she’d had two boyfriends, neither serious. There were no breathless “I love you’s,” no substance beyond the occasional fit of butterflies, and definitely no plans for marriage. But at least she could say she knew enough about relationships to recognize a red flag.

Adrien’s hesitance to kiss her? A huge red flag. And catching his cheek after a last second turn of the head was the final straw

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” She took a step back and folded her arms over her chest, trying to appear more annoyed than self-conscious.

Adrien sighed the sort of full body sigh that always prefaced bad news. Another red flag. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye. Yet another. It took every ounce of Ladybug’s self control not to shake him. “You remember how I told you I was homeschooled?” he asked. She nodded, wary. “So what that means is I don’t have much… experience with people my age.” He fidgeted. “You know, like girls.”

Ladybug stared at him.

Adrien groaned as if her silence physically pained him. “Buginette, you’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed.”

Oh. Oh. Ladybug’s arms fell to her sides. Oooooh. She got it. And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she smiled. “You are adorable,” she said.

“It’s not funny!”

“I never said it was!” She closed the distance between them and slung her arms around his neck. A full moon hung in the sky above them, but it wasn’t enough for her to see his blush, which Ladybug was ninety percent certain had taken over his entire face. She tilted her head and shot him a flirtatious smile. “Does someone need a kissing lesson?”

Adrien glared at her. “Is someone offering?”

She rubbed her nose against his. “Yes.” He still looked miffed, which had her biting down on her lower lip to keep from laughing in his face. “You can start by putting your hands on my hips.” He did. “Perfect.” She tucked her head under his chin and breathed in his clean-laundry-and-Gabriel-brand-perfume scent. “Before we begin,” she said, “you should know that when kissing someone your hands will be very tempted to roam. This is perfectly fine, but there are certain areas you’ll want to avoid.” She gave him a stern look. “Don’t touch the goods unless you have permission.”

Adrien nodded, every bit the serious student. “How do I get permission?”

“Beginners shouldn’t worry about that,” Ladybug said flatly. Adrien grinned at her. She shook her head. “Please don’t make me regret this.”

“I’ll be your greatest Regreste.”

She let go of him and started to walk away. Adrien pulled her back in, laughing. “Fine, fine! I’ll behave. I promise.”

Ladybug turned to face him, sliding her arms around his neck again. “You’d better.” She wished she could say he’d annoyed her; admitting his goofy behavior only added to his charm would be way too humiliating. 

“Lesson one,” she said, and pressed her lips against his in a short kiss. It was enough to wipe the grin off his face, in any case. “Easy, right?” She wiggled her hips. “Your turn.”

Adrien leaned in and gave her an equally short, but unexpectedly exciting kiss. Ladybug blinked at him, a bit dazed, promising she’d think about what made being kissed better than delivering kisses later. “Fantastic,” she said. “Lesson two.” She kissed him a little longer then, and didn’t quite pull away, letting her lips brush against his as she spoke. “Your turn.”

Adrien’s grip on her tightened. His lips captured hers and Ladybug, having no intention of spending the entire night on chaste kisses, kissed him right back. The surprise of it made him hesitate, but she merely took a step closer to him and whispered, “Keep going.”

He did. Clumsily at first, but it didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it. His hands left her hips for the more tempting dip of her lower back and hers moved down, sneaking past the leather jacket to leech off his body heat.

Adrien’s lips pulled up into a smirk. “I don’t recall giving you permission to touch the goods.”

“What goods?” she asked innocently as her fingers trailed down his abdomen.

“You know which goods.”

“Oh these goods!” She slipped her hands into his shirt to cop a feel of the hard muscles underneath. Adrien caught her wrists and returned her hands to his shoulders.

“What’s lesson three?” he asked.

Ladybug played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t think you’re ready for it, chaton.”

“You didn’t think I was ready to be your crime fighting partner either.” Adrien nipped her earlobe. “Try me.”

She shrugged. “Okay.” Then she grabbed him by the jacket and shoved. Hard. Adrien lost his footing and went down on his back with a yelp. He stared up at her, eyes wide. Ladybug stepped over him, quite happily sat on his stomach, and leaned forward until she blocked out the moonlight and the ends of her long red hair ribbon brushed his neck. “Lesson three,” she purred, and flattened her lips against his.

Adrien returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, burying his hands in her hair and tilting her head to get a better angle. When her tongue met the seam of his mouth he gasped, granting her all the access she needed. She slid her tongue against his and moaned in spite of herself. 

He learned quickly. Too quickly. When she broke the kiss for air he grabbed hold of her waist and flipped her under him. “My turn,” he whispered before sinking his teeth into her bottom lip.

Ladybug murmured something indistinct and ran her hands along his upper back. In hindsight, a rooftop may not have been the best place for lesson three. They were hidden well enough, but there was still the off chance someone could look up and find Paris’s superheroes groping each other like the hormonal young adults they were. She parted her lips for him and relished the way his hand traveled the length of her waist, slid down her thigh—

“And that’s enough of lesson three!” she cried, pushing on his chest until she could wiggle out from under him.

Adrien blinked at her, his gaze slightly unfocused. “Did I pass?”

Ladybug tapped his cheek with the back of her hand. “I’ll send you your diploma in the mail.”

“Ladybug.”

She helped him to his feet. “You,” she said, “are an excellent kisser.” And delightfully tussled after just three lessons. She liked him rumpled. She liked him straight-laced and well-ironed. She liked him enough to admit that she wanted this relationship to last, to be serious.

For there to be a lesson four.

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 12/21/16

Absolutely! (Friendly reminder to everyone else that fic requests are closed, and I’m just writing the ones I got when they were open~)

~*~

Why the long face, my Lady? It’s not every day you’re awarded a medal for heroism.”

Ladybug sat on the edge of an electronic billboard, knees drawn to her chest. She sighed. “I had to skip out on a classmate’s party to attend the award ceremony,” she said. “A party I’d been looking forward to for weeks.”

The billboard continued to flicker back and forth between advertisements: a new car, a cell phone carrier, Gabriel Agreste’s latest men’s fragrance—featuring his son Adrien, gazing skyward.

That’s un-fur-tunate. Can’t remember the last time I was invited to a party,” Chat Noir’s voice said over the ear piece he used to communicate with her.

Ladybug tried not to pout, and failed. “I made my own dress and everything. Stayed up late several nights to make sure it’d be done in time.”

Hmm.”

She closed her eyes to block out the cheerful Paris skyline… only to scream in surprise when music burst through her ear piece. Flashes of colorful light came from the billboard, and when Ladybug turned around, she found a music video playing on it instead of the advertisements. “Chat Noir, what are you doing?”

People dance at parties, right?”

Ladybug laughed. “Yeah, but I’m not going to dance up here by myself.”

You’re not dancing by yourself. I’m dancing, too.”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “No you’re not.”

I am, and I’m terrible at it, so please don’t let me be the only one embarrassing myself.”

Ladybug climbed to her feet. There were people down below, looking up at the billboard with expressions ranging from curious to amused to apathetic. They must have been used to it by now—random electronic glitch? Chat Noir, showing off for his Lady again. She really couldn’t let him be the only one embarrassing himself.

So she threw her arms in the air and danced. By the second song she no longer cared who was watching. She even made requests to Chat Noir, who fulfilled them with the lightning speed of a skilled DJ. And when the music ended and she collapsed on the billboard, panting, she was satisfied to hear that Chat Noir was out of breath, too.

I have a cramp,” he complained.

Ladybug grinned up at the few stars visible in the Parisian sky. “Then we should dance more often.”

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 12/23/16

~*~

Adrien had never been in Marinette’s room before. Visits to the apartment usually started and ended in common areas like the living room and dining nook, but ever since she’d been outed as Ladybug, his curiosity had nagged him. What was her little slice of the world like? Full of ladybug paraphernalia that would have given her identity away immediately? It couldn’t be. She lived with Alya.

“It’s kind of messy,” Marinette warned him as she led him down the apartment’s short hall. “I haven’t recovered from all the people who were akumatized over midterms yet.”

“I’m sure it’s perfectly charming,” Adrien said, hoping his tone didn’t give away how excited he was. Ladybug’s room. Ladybug’s room!

Marinette put a hand on the doorknob and turned to face him. “You have to promise not to laugh.”

He placed one hand over his heart and lifted the other in the air. “Why would I laugh?”

“Just… don’t.”

She opened the door.

Into a pink nightmare of a bedroom.

Adrien stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open. He had honestly expected red. But of course Marinette wouldn’t be that obvious. There was… so much pink. Pink bed sheets, pink accents with little white polka dots, pink stuffed animals.

Then Adrien’s eyes landed on a spot of black in the center of the bed: a stuffed cat. He walked over and picked it up. Judging by its ragged appearance, she’d had it for a while. 

But that wasn’t the only thing. On Marinette’s desk was a men’s magazine, from which his own face smirked back at him. Handsome. Sexy, even. It was an old issue—dating back to several months before Ladybug had pulled him into that first frustrated kiss.

Adrien looked at Marinette. She crossed her arms over her stomach and stared out the window, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’d give you the tour, but it’s nowhere near as big as your room, so…” 

Adrien replaced the stuffed cat and crossed over to where Marinette stood. He took her by the arm, turned her around to face him, and smiled at her. “Hi,” he said.

She buried her face in his chest. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking it.”

“You had a crush on me,” Adrien said, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

Marinette let out a long whine that ended in a mortified groan. “This was a mistake,” she said. Adrien laughed and lifted her chin, showering her adorable, unmasked face in kisses until she’d stopped pouting. Marinette fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie. “You know,” she murmured, “I used to sometimes fantasize about you coming in here and kissing me senseless.”

“Did you?” Adrien pulled her sleeve down and kissed her shoulder. “Well, how long do we have before Alya comes back?”

Marinette unzipped his jacket. “Half an hour?”

Adrien allowed the jacket to slide off, wrapped his arms around Marinette, and lifted her off the ground. “Then it’s time to make you senseless.”

mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally Posted: 03/21/17

~*~

Blood.

Blood, and Alya crouched over his still form. The shattered remains of his helmet sprinkled over the road like ashes. His hand, palm up, fingers curled.

And the crowd. Always a crowd with akuma attacks. Giving them space.

Ladybug stood surrounded by helmet fragments—visor over there, the tip of an ear next to her foot—staring from a distance. At Alya’s fingers pressed against his neck. At the blood pooled around his head, dampening his golden hair. At his hand, palm up, fingers curled.

That was the love of her life strewn across the sidewalk.

The love of her life, she thought, as Alya’s scream confirmed what she didn’t want to know.

A second scream came from the akuma victim. The purple butterfly mask lit up his horror-stricken face.

I didn’t mean to—!”

Ladybug stared.

I didn’t mean to—!”

She must have told him a thousand times.

Oh God…!

Too dangerous. It was too dangerous for him.

Adrien!”

“Lucky Charm.”

~*~

Adrien woke with a headache, surrounded by darkness. While he waited for his eyes to adjust, his nose confirmed his location: the clean, particular scent of a hotel room. He tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa.” Pressure on his chest forced him back down. “Take it easy, man.”

“Nino?” Adrien closed his eyes against the pain in his skull. Why was he in a hotel room with Nino? Hadn’t there been an akuma attack? Ladybug. She needed his help.

“Come on.” Alya’s voice this time. “We should give them some privacy.”

Adrien felt the bed beneath him shift. A door opened, momentarily bringing light into the room and illuminating Ladybug, leaning against the far wall. Then it shut, and darkness reigned again.

Adrien waited for Ladybug to approach him, but she didn’t move. Memories resurfaced: the akuma, his taunting, the blow that sent him flying off the roof of the building. He groaned. Ladybug must have been angry at him. “I messed up, didn’t I?” he asked.

Ladybug remained silent.

Adrien gave her a pleading look. “Buginette?”

Her eyelashes flickered, but it took several more painful seconds for her to separate from the wall. She approached him, eyes downcast, one arm draped across her stomach. She drew one knee up onto the hotel bed, followed by the other. Then she reached out and stroked his hand, tips of fingers brushing his palm. He instinctively closed his fingers around hers.

And Ladybug shattered.

She bent over until her forehead touched his chest and wept with such violence that Adrien knew, without a single doubt, what had happened to him.

Tears blurred his vision. He laid a hand on his Lady’s hair, felt each sob tear through her body like a physical blow, and whispered what little reassurance he could: Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m still here. He let her grief carve a wound into him that would never heal.

And he promised himself he would be more careful.

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