#ml secret santa 2k19

[chimpukampu]

Merry Christmas @niyes-lahiffe​! I’m your backup @mlsecretsanta​!

Hope you’ll love this fluffy DjWifi where Nino wants to surprise his babe...or did he?

Bonus:

[cheshiremadd]

His Jacket

AO3

My @mlsecretsanta gift for @hynuri-post! They have some lovely Marinette Wears Chat Noir art on instagram, and I just had to write our boy's reaction to the outfit. Enjoy!

In which Marinette loves to tease her boyfriend.

-

She was testing his patience. His self-control. She should know better. Self-control is necessary for the Black Cat. To properly harness the powers of destruction. She’s trying to break him and it’s not going to work.

It’s definitely not going to work.

He side glanced Marinette, eyed the bell at her neck, then quickly back to his food. Food that she brought. There’s more of his favorites than not.

Not. Going. To work.

Plagg hadn’t stopped laughing at him since she unzipped her oversized jacket (his jacket, that’s his jacket, when did she steal it?). Not too loud, thankfully. He’s pretty sure he can only hear it because he’s so attuned to the kwami’s movements. He really hoped that’s the case, because identity reveal by laughing kwami equals Angry Ladybug. Not that an identity reveal by other means wouldn’t also equal Angry Ladybug. Not the point. The point is, Plagg was making fun of him, and he shouldn’t, because how else is he supposed to react? Marinette wore that outfit to school, obviously designed to hit his buttons. All of his buttons. Buttons he didn’t even know he had.

His jacket, which might as well be a short dress on her. Shorts just long enough to make it past dress code. Tiny gold bell on a black choker that wraps around her slender neck. And when she unzipped his jacket? A cropped white t-shirt, the phrase “Claws out!” adorning the front in electric green. Her tiny waist and tinier belly button taunted him.

The cat in him itched to complete the look. It might be silly. It is silly. No one would even see it, even know. But he would know. And she would know. That his scent marked her as his. That the hickeys he would place marked her as his. And she could place a few on him. Mark him as hers. They’d have to be below the collar, but they could work with that.

The jingling of bells caught his attention. That’s right. How could he forget the cat ear buns that she tied with tiny gold bells. He could lay his head in her lap and bat at them, get them to make that oh so satisfying tinkle.

“Adrien?”

He looked up, startled out of his reverie. Marinette, Alya, and Nino stared back, with varying levels of concern on their face.

“You okay, bro?”

Adrien scratched the back of his head, self-conscious. “Sorry! Lost in thought, I guess. What’d I miss?”

“We were just saying how super nice it was of Marinette to bring us these awesome lunch boxes!” Alya filled him in with a wink. Adrien was sure she was trying to send him some sly look, but he couldn’t quite puzzle it out. “And how she even customized them with our favorites.”

He turned a bright smile toward the current bane of his existence. “Yeah, it’s great! Thank you so much, Marinette! You’re really amazing.”

She pinked at his words, pleased with the praise. Kwamis, she was adorable. It’s going to kill him.

He forced his attention to his lunch again. It was mostly gone. Which was strange because he remembered eating exactly none of it.

Alya brought back the topic that had largely dominated their conversation all morning. A photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir. She’s holding a bouquet of marigolds to her nose and he’s peeking in a plain white paper bag.

“I’m telling you, Alya, they have a purely professional relationship.” His secret girlfriend would know, after all. He could practically hear her eyeroll.

Nino brought up the main point of evidence. “He did bring her flowers.”

“Edible flowers. And she brought him cookies! Ten euros says they were just trading snacks.” Marinette’s bells jingled more as she leaned back in her chair.

The Ladyblogger’s eyes gleamed. “How do you know she brought him cookies, hmm, Mari?” She glanced around, then leaned in and lowered her voice. “Did a certain kitty cat tell you that?”

Marinette looked stunned for a moment. “I- I just assumed, I guess. That bag looks like one of ours.”

Alya squealed and hit her hands on the table in her excitement. Thankfully, though, she still kept her voice low. “Are you telling me that Ladybug shops at your bakery?”

“She should! It’s the best bakery in the city.” Adrien cut in. He sent Marinette a soft smile.

“You really think she’s going to eat those, dude?” His best bro didn’t seem convinced. Nino’s nose was scrunched in slight disgust. Marinette shrugged, unbothered.

“Why not? Marigolds are yummy and citrusy.” She fiddled with one of her hair bells closest to him. It glinted in the sunlight as she made it ring just to hear the lovely sound. “Oh, is that the time?” She started packing up her things. “I’ve got to get to the library. The rough draft for that Literature paper is due in three days!”

He knew for a fact that she’d finished that rough draft last night. Going to the library, where there existed so many nooks and crannies he could make use of? And Marinette looked so sweet and teasing. She was practically daring Chat Noir to come out and play.

“I’m sure she’d say yes if you asked her on a date.” Well, yeah, I figured that out. They’d been on lots of dates. Sure, most of them were in her room watching movies or playing video games, but they counted. But Alya didn’t know that. Adrien put on his best Confused Model face.

“What do you mean, Alya? Marinette and I are just friends.”

“Hey. Don’t think I didn’t see you undressing my girl with your eyes.” Alya wagged her finger. “You better get to it, before someone else snatches her up.”

She followed after Nino, who she’d apparently shooed off. Well, shit. He didn’t realize he was being so obvious. It was hard to turn down the attraction, though, when she showed up to school like that.

Speaking of. He had a princess to find.

-

Adrien caught a glimpse of her between the books. The bookshelves had no backs, which allowed him to see into the next aisle over. She had pulled a book off the shelf and was flipping through it. He quietly went down the aisle next to hers, the one her back was to, careful to lighten his footsteps. He was directly behind her when her head started to turn. He immediately went into a crouch and waited the long moment before she turned back. He paused when he reached the end of his aisle, hidden from her between the two. He could hear the thunk of the book being replaced. He waited a moment. Then chanced a peek around the edge of the bookshelf.

Marinette was facing away from him, walking the direction he’d come from, her fingers trailing along the books. He was momentarily stunned by the picture she made. In fact ...Adrien pulled out his phone, made sure it was on silent, and snapped a picture. He smiled goofily. That was definitely going to be his new background.

He had to act fast now; that photo had cost him. She was a little more than halfway down the aisle. He sacrificed some lightness of foot to go faster, and had his arms around his prey before she could react. If she even would. She had to have been expecting him.

“Chat.” Her voice was a soft kiss, expressing her pleasure at being caught.

“Hello, Princess~” he purred out.

She relaxed into him with a sigh. He knew her well enough to know that her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth curved into the softest of smiles. She singsonged her response. “You’re going to get caught~.”

“Not this sneaky cat, purrincess. I made sure no one was around.” He pressed a kiss to her crown and brushed on hand against her bare midsection. Tested her boundaries. She didn’t react beyond a hitch in her breath. He pressed another kiss to her head, this time closer to one of her cat-ear hair buns, and slid his hand more fully onto her waist. The skin-on-skin contact tingled, but he made sure to go slowly, gave her every chance to pull away or tell him ‘no’. She didn’t.

“Do you like my outfit? I wore it just for you.” Did he like it? Did he like puns? Chocolate? Nibbling on her bottom lip?

“You already know that answer.” He nosed the hair bun, then completed his journey to her ribbons. His teeth caught the tail of one bow. “When did you steal my jacket?”

Her hands sunk into his hair and he had to fight the purr that was rising up. There’s magic in Marinette’s hands. Those hands can bring him out of his worst moods and turn him to a lapful of melted catboy. “I worked very hard on my hair this morning; I’ll be cross if you undo it.”

He stopped pulling quite so much, but kept the ribbon still, giving every impression that it was his plan all along. His thumb traced circles into her smooth skin. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you not answering the question.”

“A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.”

He’d let go of the ribbon and was just beginning to press some kisses on her delicious looking neck when they were frozen by a loud squawk from behind. Whoever it was could probably see enough to identify both of them. Adrien closed his eyes as he accepted the inevitable.

Goose pimples raised where his breath met Marinette’s neck. He suppressed a whine as her hands left his hair, and forced himself to let go of her waist. She caught his wrists before he could fully retreat, kept his arms wrapped around her like a hug that he was fully on board with.

“Agreste, when I said to ‘get to it’, I did not mean molest her in the library. Unless...” Alya gasped. “You… you! How long have you two been dating?!” Adrien and Marinette had now turned enough that he could see Alya clap her hand over her mouth. She looked around and lowered her voice. “Is it a secret because of Gabriel? Shit, did I just ruin it?”

Surprisingly, Nino did not look as gobsmacked as Alya. “Nah, babe, look at the sly smirk on Nette’s face. These asses have been playing us!”

Marinette broke first. She cackled, and tried to muffle it with sleeve-covered hands. “Ha! No bad puns for a week!”

“Awww, come on, Princess!” Adrien let go of her and bent over, head in his hands, sighing deeply.

“So-rryyy~ You lost~” She singsonged. He peeked through his fingers. Marinette was in full gloat mode, doing the same little dance like when she won at video games. Hmm...keep watching? Or die theatrically?

He completed his trip to the floor and lay like a starfish across the aisle, groaning loudly all the while. He made sure to leave her in his viewpoint. Alya, arms crossed and foot tapping, and Nino, looking mostly amused, were beyond her.

“Okay, you two yahoos, what is this about?” Alya couldn’t quite hide her own amusement.

“We were going to tell you. Until someone insinuated that I couldn’t keep the secret. But I knew that if anyone gave it away, it’d be Mr. Can’t Keep His Hands to Himself over there.” Marinette radiated smugness worse than Plagg immediately after their Reveal. Adrien let out another pained groan.

Nino shuffled a bit, getting comfortable against a bookshelf. “I hate to tell you this, Nette, but you lost as soon as you wore Adrien’s jacket to school. I knew something was up then.”

Adrien sat up, breaking his Dying Pose (that no one had paid any attention to, did he need a new Dying Pose?). Marinette stopped victory dance and stared at Nino. “But, but you didn’t know. I didn’t give it away like Adrien did.”

“It was pretty obvious that you were pushing his buttons.”

“Thank you!” Adrien exclaimed. “I thought I was going to die when she waltzed into class this morning!”

“Ha! I bet! Walking in, looking like she was wearing nothing except your jacket!” Alya wrapped Marinette in a hug. She put on a faux weepy voice. “Girl, I am so proud of you for using that sex appeal! And seeing her babies together! Mama’s heart is so full!”

Marinette didn’t reciprocate the hug, only stood slumped over. “But I don’t wanna speak in only cat puns!” she whined.

“Baking and sewing puns are also acceptable, Prrrrincess.” Adrien’s voice was gleeful. She only responded with crying noises. Her exaggerated loss was as cute as her exaggerated win.

“Eh. I’d think you both lost,” said Nino. He shrugged his shoulders at the look of betrayal that Adrien shot him.

Marinette’s nose did an absolutely adorable crinkle. “We both take the penalty?”

Her best (civilian) friend left an arm around her as she shook a finger at Nino. “I agree. Nino kept it to himself, and then Sunshine spoiled it separately. You,” she pointed at Adrien, “can only use Cupcake’s Pun Snobbery and she,” she poked Marinette’s belly button, causing Marinette to squeal and pull away, “must cram as many puns into her conversations as possible.”

“Cat puns,” Adrien corrected.

Alya nodded. “Cat puns.”

Marinette used her own ‘Dead Inside’ face. “Purrrfect.”

[galahadwilder]

Next to Me

MLB Secret Santa

for @obliviousblondesunite, as part of the @mlsecretsanta exchange.

Blondes shared this prompt back in October, completely unrelated to MLB Secret Santa:

Aged up, post reveal, post hawkmoth, established relationship AU inspired by the song “Next to Me” by Imagine Dragons. Adrien is depressed and thinks little of himself sometimes, as Chat and Adrien. Marinette continues to help him through his troubles.

*

It’s been a while since Adrien’s been out of the apartment in people clothes instead of cat ones. A little over a month, actually. He hasn’t been able to look at himself in the mirror; hasn’t been able to sleep. He keeps staring at the ceiling, wondering, if everyone was right, if he could’ve known, if... if he could’ve done something earlier.

The only reason he’s out today is that they’re running out of food. Marinette did that on purpose; after the fourth night in a row where he woke her up with the sound of his sobbing, he knew he couldn’t keep hurting her like this—she has so much patience, so much love, and he can’t bear to keep testing it. He asked her to stop coddling him, to stop letting him wallow. So she let the pantry and the fridge run dry, and gave him two options: either he did the grocery shopping, or she was going to take him to a restaurant.

Restaurant meant more people. Restaurant meant paparazzi. Restaurant meant sitting in public where anyone could see him, unable to leave, unable to duck out, while reporters bombarded him and his girlfriend with questions and camera flashes and accusations and it’s an easy decision.

He holds the shopping basket hooked around his forearms like Dorothy with her basket full of yappy dog and the linoleum aisles are yellow brick road. Plagg is hugging his chest and purring quietly, helping keep him calm, as he walks down the starch aisle.

“Hey...”

Adrien’s hand freezes, hovering over the box of rice. The fluorescent lights burn overhead, a ripping noise in his ears. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

“Aren’t you Adrien Agreste?”

He squeezes his eyes shut as his breath goes cold in his throat, and he clutches his jacket closer around his body with shaking hands. The problem with having his face plastered all over the city for five years: it’s impossible to go anywhere without at least one person recognizing him, no matter how much he wants to just fade away.

“Please,” he whimpers. “I’m just trying to do my grocery shopping.”

The woman in the red wool jacket tilts her head, looking at him with concern in her eyes. “Monsieur Agreste, I’m so sorry about—”

He hears the name again—that man’s name—and his basket slips from his fingers. His ears are assaulted by the crash of plastic striking the floor, and everything is too much, too bright and too loud and too—he has to get out. He has to get out.

“Monsieur Agreste?”

Unthinking, he bolts.

The part of his brain that’s not operating on pure panic regrets it immediately. The grocery store is too large to escape and yet simultaneously too small—the shelves are crushing in on him, squeezing on his lungs, and everyone is staring now at the wild man sprinting toward the exit. But that part of his brain isn’t in control. He’s gone feral, a cornered animal, a shampooed cat launching itself from its owner’s arms. He stumbles into the checkout line, bowling over a patron, and nearly slams into the exit door before it slides open—too slow, too slow.

He barely makes it out of the front door of the supermarket without falling, stumbling around the corner toward the dumpster. He collapses against the side of it with a plastic smack, reaching into his jacket’s inside pocket. Fumbling fingers rip open the cigarette box. He jams it between his lips, desperate, trembling, then snags a match. Scrapes it against the brickwork.

Too slow. No flame.

“Kid, breathe,” Plagg says from inside his pocket.

He wants to. He wants to breathe in hot smoke, he wants to sear his lungs, he wants to feel something that isn’t shame or fear. But the match isn’t lighting.

“Come on,” Plagg says, poking his head out, his disproportionate emerald eyes slow blinking in Adrien’s direction. “What does Tikki always say? Count all the blue things you see.”

Adrien twists his head, looking away from the Kwami. He—he doesn’t—this panic, it feels right, he doesn’t want to stop. He deserves this, he needs this—

“Monsieur,” the security guard looming over him says. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Adrien drops his head and cries.

*

They hold him in the security office for over an hour before they realize that they can’t prove he’s stolen anything. He spends the whole time curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, unable to speak and waiting for his heartbeat to calm. Desperate for nicotine, but every time he tries to reach for his cigarettes someone glares at him and he freezes.

Without words, he can’t explain what had happened—can’t tell them why he’d run, can’t ask for forgiveness. When they ban him from the market and throw him out, it almost comes as a relief.

Almost, because... what is he going to tell Marinette?

He’d gone out—gone through everything—and he’d failed. Hadn’t managed to get a single euro worth of food. They’re either going to go hungry tonight... or he’s going to have to brave a restaurant. He’s going to have to brave an entire evening of people glaring at him, and spitting on him, and screaming at him for things his father did. And he can bear that, he can, but Marinette deserves better—better than both of those options.

Marinette deserves better than him.

*

He touches down on the balcony of the apartment he’d bought for them before everything went down, back when the Agreste name opened doors instead of closing them, and lets the transformation release, leather ripping green from his skin.

“Adrien—” Plagg says, concern in his voice.

“Don’t,” Adrien croaks, stumbling through the sliding door. He collapses into the couch cushions, burying his face in the pillow. “Don’t wanna hear it.” He hugs it close, pressing the pillow to his eyes, trying to hide his tears.

He hears Plagg breathe in as if he’s about to say something, but then he stops. There’s a rustle, and Adrien starts as the blanket begins to move up his body, tugged upward by the tiny cat Kwami.

“Thanks,” Adrien mumbles.

Plagg grunts, and Adrien feels the minuscule weight of the Kwami’s tiny body settle onto his back, where he begins to purr. Adrien calms, letting the vibrations of the god of destruction rumble through his body, forcing back the molten fire from his nerves.

“Still want a cigarette?” Plagg says.

Adrien scrapes his face against the pillow, feeling the prickle of his unshaven face against the velvet covering. “No, I—I think I’m okay,” he says.

“Good,” Plagg responds, standing up and stretching his paws along Adrien’s back, his tail whipping restlessly up and down Adrien’s eighth vertebra. “Destruction may make you Cancer-resistant, but that doesn’t mean cancer-proof, and tumors taste like...” He shudders. “Smarties.”

“When have you ever eaten Smarties?” Adrien mumbles, rolling his eyes.

“Never. That’s not the point,” Plagg says.

“Hmm,” Adrien responds, then yanks the blanket over his head, ending the conversation.

*

Adrien wakes up he’s not quite sure how long later to the feeling of tiny claws poking his cheek.

He groans. “There’s cheese in the fridge,” he says, trying to swat Plagg away. He’d made sure of that—even if there’s nothing else in the house, Plagg has his goddamn cheese.

“No cheese,” Plagg says, poking him again. “Heads up. I smell Tikki.”

Adrien’s eyes shoot open. “Shit,” he hisses.

“Yeah,” Plagg says, narrowing his eyes at his charge. “Shit is right.”

The door begins to creak open, and Adrien smells it too—cinnamon and passionfruit, Marinette’s soap and shampoo, mingling with human sweat (stress sweat specifically, he can taste that particular hormone’s cloying meatiness in the air thanks to senses bleedover), and the warm, chocolatey undertones of the Ladybug Kwami inside her purse. Adrien jerks upward on the couch, bending his spine, as his gaze locks onto the burning blue of Marinette’s eyes.

“Hey, Kitty,” she says. “I’m home.”

The cat in him wants to run to her, to tackle her, to curl up around her feet and trip her into him and tangle up in her and laugh and purr and feel her fingers on his scalp. The other cat in him wants to bolt, to hide in the back corner of the linen closet buried under the towels where it’s dark and quiet and her disappointed eyes can’t reach.

He’s not feeling very human today.

“Did you get dinner?” she says, unslinging her purse from her shoulder and dumping it gracelessly on the front table. Even after all these years, his Lady is a messy disaster of a person, her brain too occupied with the miracles she makes with charcoal and thread to remember that things have places they are supposed to go. It’s okay—he’s found he enjoys cleaning, so he’s always happy to pick up after his messy genius.

Except lately he hasn’t been. He... can’t.

Marinette turns to him, and her eyes soften. “Adrien,” she says, kneeling down next to him, “you promised me you’d go out today.”

He buries his face in the pillow—can’t bear to meet her eyes. “I did,” he mumbles. “Got to the grocery store, and—and...”

“Somebody recognized you.”

“Mmhmm.”

Marinette wraps her fingers around his palm, slowly enough for him to pull away if he needs to. He doesn’t. He whimpers at her touch, at the way she still makes everything burn and shine and it’s blinding, he can’t bear her love, her forgiveness.

“Pity or blame?” she says.

“Pity,” he says, his fingers brushing the back of her hand as they twitch nervously.

“I’m sorry,” she says. He hears her shift a bit. “Tikki? Can you grab Littlebug please? Adrien needs to cuddle.”

“Of course,” Tikki chirps, and Adrien hears the zip of air breaking around the Kwami’s body as she rockets into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get dinner,” Adrien says, turning his face, letting the rough material of the pillow drag across his cheek. “I guess...” He breathed in, then out. “I guess we’ve got to go out?”

Marinette purses her lips and nods. “Yeah,” she says. “But we don’t have to go somewhere public.”

*

When Ladybug and Chat Noir alight on the balcony of Marinette’s childhood bedroom, Sabine Cheng is waiting for them, lounging on the old sunbathing chairs. “Bonsoir, pumpkin!” she says up with a lazy wave, then beams at Chat. “Hello, Adrien dear,” she says.

Chat’s chest contracts. He doesn’t deserve that look in her eyes, the affection she’s directing at him.

“Bonsoir, Maman!” Ladybug responds, kneeling down to hug her mother. “Sorry again for the late call.”

“Oh, you know your father and I are always happy to have you two,” she says. Then she stands up and reaches for a plate on the small table, piled high with cookies and cheese. “You should get comfortable,” she says. “I got food for your... Kami?”

“Kwami,” Ladybug corrects. “Tikki, spots off!”

Light zips up her body, Tikki spiraling out of her earrings.

“Nyí heó, Zen nyiúzý!” Tikki says.

Sabine bows to the tiny god. “Nyí heó, Thi mò,” she says. “You are welcome in my home.”

Tikki snorts. “Thank you!” she says. “You don’t have to be so formal.” And then, as if to prove he point, she shoves an entire chocolate chip cookie into her mouth.

Sabine stares at Tikki for a moment with something like reverence, then turns to Chat. “I have some cheese for the little cat,” she says. “You said he likes Camembert?”

Chat swallows.

And, bless her, Marinette catches his hand in her own. “You don’t have to,” she says. “Who do you want to be right now?”

He doesn’t want to be anyone right now, is the truth. He wants to take a break from being Adrien, from being Chat, from being. But he doesn’t want her to hear that.

“Yours,” he croaks. “I want to be yours.”

She smiles. “Always,” she says, flicking his bell. “No matter which face you’re wearing.”

Sabine melts.

*

Dinner is more than a little awkward. Adrien doesn’t really want to talk; he deflects any questions directed his way with grunts and noncommittal answers. Sabine, Marinette, and Tikki are starting to look at him in confusion and worry, while Tom keeps talking—blabbering, really—trying to fill the silence. (Plagg, meanwhile, is trying to pretend like all he cares about is gorging himself on the cheese spread in the middle of the table, but Adrien’s known him for long enough to tell that the Kwami is worried about him.)

“Adrien, sweetie,” Sabine says, “are you all right? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

Adrien despondently pushes the peas around his plate with his fork. “Yeah, I’m... fine,” he says. “Actually... I, uh, I’ll be right back. Kinda... need a smoke.”

“Use the balcony,” Marinette says, averting her eyes.

Adrien nods. He stands up, walks upstairs toward Marinette’s bedroom.

“He’s smoking now?” Sabine whispers as he presses open the trapdoor.

He stops. He shouldn’t have been able to hear her—if he’d been anyone else, he wouldn’t have. But being Chat Noir for six years had altered his physiology in more than one way; sensitive ears mean he can hear things no normal human should be able to.

“Maman, he just lost his entire family,” Marinette responds. “He needs time—”

“I was a wreck for a month when we cut Papa out of our lives,” Tom adds. “Remember?”

Adrien shakes his head and continues up to the balcony. He doesn’t want to hear the rest of this.

The cigarette lights easily this time, and he sucks in the burning smoke, searing his lungs as he looks out across the Seine toward the lights of the Eiffel Tower. It feels like the whole city is arrayed before him, and he remembers similar views—the city underwater, drowning; the hordes of kissing zombies filling the streets; the inferno, every building in the Paris wrapped in ghostly cerulean flames; the moon plummeting, crashing downward as Pegase frantically tried to evacuate the city—the way Viperion collapsed afterward, after three times as long as Aspik’s worst Second Chance experience.

All Gabriel. All Adrien. This was his family, his father, his fault. He could’ve stopped this if he’d known. If he’d bothered to look.

He doesn’t deserve Marinette. He doesn’t deserve Ladybug, or Plagg, or Tom and Sabine. He doesn’t deserve their love, their forgiveness.

He looks down to the street below, considering.

Then the trapdoor opens behind him, and he hears the familiar footfalls of his princess.

“Kitty?” she says, soft. “You okay?”

Adrien has no idea what to say.

Marinette steps forward, hugs him from behind. “Talk to me,” she says.

Adrien breathes in, staring away. “I just...” He wipes his eyes. This burden... she deserves better. He’s not sure where to start. “This is your family,” he says. That’s good. That’s safe. “I never had that.” He looks up, bathing his face in the starlight. “Even when I had Mère, she wasn’t...” He swallows. “This isn’t... I’m an intruder, you know? No matter how much your family welcomes me, I’m not a Dupain-Cheng.”

He feels Marinette inhale. “Well,” she says, rubbing her cheek against his back. “That’s easy enough to fix.”

“What?” Adrien says, weakly, barely noticing that she’s already let go of his stomach. He turns to find her on one knee, holding up a black velvet box.

She flips it open, and inside is a rose gold ring—a perfect replica of her version of the Cat Miraculous.

Adrien’s entire body locks into place.

“Adrien Graham de Vanily,” Marinette says. “You are... the kindest, most giving person I have ever known. Since the day we met, you have been by my side through the worst that the world can throw at us.” She’s smiling. She’s—she’s smiling. “It has been my honor, and my privilege, to grow alongside you, and to see you go from a brash, lonely boy into the brave and loving man you are today.” She swallows, looks away. “You are... you’re the person I trust more than...” She shakes her head. “I’m... rambling.”

Adrien can’t speak. His heart is slamming against his sternum like it’s trying to tear itself out of his chest, his hands are frozen to the table.

“Your old family was crap,” she says. “But... I want to build a new one. With you.”

He swallows, blinking away tears.

She hiccups. “Adrien Graham de Vanily,” she whispers, holding up the ring. “Will you marry me?”

Adrien breaks. “Why?” he chokes out.

Marinette’s eyes go wide, horror writing across her face. “Kitty?”

“Why do you still love me?” he sobs. “Marinette, I’m—I’m a mess!” He waves a hand, frantic. “I—I’ve barely left the apartment in weeks, I can’t sleep, I can’t get out of bed, I...” He drops to his knees, taking her hands between his. “You—you have dreams, Mari, and—and being with me will ruin them.”

She’s staring at him, horror in her eyes.

“Marinette,” he says, caressing her cheek. “Princess. You—” He chokes. “You deserve better than to have to take care of—”

“I spent six years taking care of Paris,” she interrupts. “After Hawkmoth? Looking after one self-destructive kitty cat is practically a vacation. Besides,” she says, reaching up and scritching her nails across his scalp, “you spent all those years taking care of me when I needed it.” She smiles. “That’s what you do when you’re in love.”

His breath catches in his throat. “What if—what if I never get better?” he gasps.

“You will,” Marinette says, cupping his cheeks and pressing her forehead to his. “You’re strong. You survived eighteen years living with the worst parent I’ve ever seen and you still came out kind.” She brushes his bangs out of his face. “It’s okay if you can’t believe in yourself right now—but Adrien, My Prince, I believe in you.”

Adrien collapses into Marinette’s shoulder, sobbing. “Yes,” he says. “My answer is yes.”

[dragon-of-the-sea]

happy holidays @inkdrohp from your @mlsecretsanta <3

hope you’re having a great holiday season!

[star3yed]

The Chat Who Stole Christmas (MLSS 2019)

Hi @mizuminojosei​ I’m your @mlsecretsanta​ this year! I’ve had this story ready for a while and just wait until christmas to finally post it! I saw you liked the Antihero AU and I decided to jump a lil outta my comfort zone a write you one with action! This story has everything from frienship, to a lil angst and lots of fluff. I hope you’re having a happy holiday season and you enjoy!

Also thanks to my betas @sadrien​ and @tombombadilcankickyourass​ for making my ramblings coherent!

Summary: 

When Ladybug thought of how she would spend her night before christmas eve, she never would have suspected robbing a bank would be on top of her list. When Chat Noir had to buy presents for his Lady, he never suspected he'd have to break and enter. Follow them in their adventure being teenagers and antiheros. Antihero AU.

Ao3

Word Count:7268

————————————————————–

Ladybug was a heroine, she’d been put in many different situations, many of them difficult, yet none of them compared to the nerves she felt in her stomach doing this. She never once imagined she would end up in this position; her partner so quiet she could hear his accelerated heartbeat. He was nervous too. Ladybug’s head was flush flat against the cool metal surface, her eyes closed, and her hands otherwise occupied. 

“Are you sure about this bugaboo?” her golden-haired partner asked; bless his heart, always making sure she was ready before going ahead with something new.

 “Well, we wouldn’t really be in this position if I wasn’t 100 percent sure,” she retorted, her nose scrunching up. His concern was appreciated but she didn’t need his worry alongside her own 

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable, this could really be a game-changer if we aren’t safe.”

“Everything we do is a game-changer if we aren’t safe enough.”

“My lady, I would never be able to live with myself if you ever felt unsafe. Unless, of course, it was with my hands.”

“Are you implying you’re dangerous Kitty?”

“Did you fur-get? I’m purr-haps the most dangerous cat on this side of the Seine.”

“Are you two done flirting or should I get the hose?” A voice cackled from behind them. “Al-” Ladybug stopped herself before exposing the secret identity of her best friend. “I want to make it clear that this is not flirting.” she grumbled as Rena Rogue laughed. Ladybug frowned and bit the inside of her cheek to avoid making it a bigger deal than what she knew it could become.

“My lady, we should let the cat out of the bag” Chat Noir purred “We should tell them about our history, how we are pawsitively more than fur-riends”

Marinette wrinkled her nose and opened her eyes long enough to give him a look, so he’d understand the excruciating pain he was putting her through with his dreadful puns.

“I think that would be a cat-astrophic idea, Kitty,” she teased, before closing her eyes and focusing on the task at hand. Had she kept her eyes on him she might’ve seen his cheeks brighten up.

Although they had been partners for the better part of 4 years Chat Noir couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat when Ladybug would rarely return his puns, or whenever she still called him kitty. He admired the blue-eyed heroine, and as time passed his feelings for her only increased, and even though through the years he had other girls he dated or was involved with, he never really got very far; his feelings for the polka-dot clad superhero prevented him from forming any real romantic connections, until he had met Marinette that is. The other blue-eyed girl had captured his heart and only her smile could make his heart skip a beat the way Ladybug’s did.

 Yet, as suave as he had become over the years he quickly quipped back.

“What is that Feline? Am I fortunate enough that purrhps the pawsibility has arisen that my purr-incess is finally warming up to my claw-ver puns?”

“Ugh, unless you want to do this Chat, I require the utmost silence!” Ladybug groaned, finding it impossible that Chat could find a cat twist to every other word, still a small smile found its way onto her face.

“Ladybug give me the word and I’ll shut him up for you!” Queen Bee exclaimed, with genuine enthusiasm. Although Chloe had grown closer to the team, she still couldn’t help herself with the dig at the leather clad boy. She was a tough cookie and her mean girl spirit never seemed to leave.

“Hey! What do you mean by that?” Chat cried before Queen Bee hit him with her spinning top. 

“She asked for silence!”

 “I KNOW I HEARD HER!” Chat spat back as Carapace laughed at both blondes while they fought about Ladybug.

Ladybug tuned out the rest of her team members, focusing on the task at hand, twisting the dial and slowly changing directions with every click. 

‘Crap, I might not be able to actually crack this’ she thought before letting out a loud sigh. If she didn’t concentrate, she wouldn’t be able to open the safe and their whole plan would be ruined. The last thing she wanted to do was use Chat’s cataclysm this early in the plan. Master Fu had been fairly certain that this individual possessed a miraculous and all the other places he could’ve stored the miraculous were empty. This was the last public place he could’ve hidden it, so if it wasn’t here, they’d have to break into his home. 

The vault door clicked three times, and suddenly it was unlocked.

 “Are you sure about this Chaton?” she asked, opening her eyes and stepping to the side. Blue eyes met green, and her companion smirked.

“You realize this will be the biggest one yet, right? I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” 

She smiled and let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. Running around, stealing stuff and wreaking havoc was fun, sure, however Ladybug always feared that her partner would someday get tired of running away from the law. Although Chat Noir was far from a saint, he had a certain softness to him. She feared that softness would someday over take him and he would regret all the criminal activity.

She let the vault door open fully, exposing the white cold room, transparent shelf upon transparent shelf piled with gold bars in the center of the room, security deposit boxes of different sizes lining the other three walls, which contained precious jewels, euros, and documents. Unlocking those security deposit boxes was much easier than unlocking the vault door; they were all well versed in picking locks after all. 

“Ohhh, shiny!” Queen Bee gasped from behind them. Out of instinct, Chat Noir held his arm out and stopped his impulsive teammate from entering the room. Ladybug sighed and analyzed the room. Obviously, the room would have some backup sensor and if they didn’t want a quick interruption from anyone, they would have to be careful. Although part of the fun was kicking some private security details ass, if they could prevent any more notoriety than what they already had, it would be great.

“Rena, what’s the status on this vault?” Ladybug asked her companion. Say what you want about Alya, she was a tenacious reporter and very good at finding the dirt on everything and anything.

“The floor is pressure-sensitive, light lasers that will trigger an alarm if the connection is interrupted between their two plates and there is a door sensor on each security deposit box. You have about 5 seconds before an alarm is triggered.”

“Basically, don’t touch the floor or the lasers and don’t open doors. Chill,” Nino responded squatting as he looked at the vault. He knew that the lasers wouldn’t show up with another light source on. “Is there any way we can, like, turn off the lights inside the vault to see the lasers?”

“We can try to fry the power box but we risk getting locked inside this bank and alerting authorities that way,” Alya responded, “but if we fry it we have about three minutes of uninterrupted snooping before all the backup security comes back on.”

“How big of a possibility is it that we get locked in?” Marinette asked, trying to decide if it was worth it. 

“About fifty-fifty. They are between changing security systems because this one is faulty. We can get unlimited access as the backup security warms up, or it might already be on and the vault closes up again.”

Marinette exhaled loudly in frustration and looked at her partner. Although she called all the shots, Chat usually had good insight.

“I think those odds are good. Worst comes to worst I’ll just cataclysm our way out of here.” 

Marinette looked inside the vault; all three walls were filled with security deposit boxes. There was a light fixture she could swing upon, but once he used cataclysm, they would have to find a different place to swing on. 

“What’s above this again?” she asked the others and Queen Bee pulled out some blueprints from her jacket handing it to the girl in red. Being the mayor’s daughter had its perks. The blonde girl pointed to where they were, “Okay, so like we’d have to get past 2 floors of stairs to reach the front of the bank, but most likely police will have arrived.” She tapped her chin. “But I know helicopters take a bit longer to come so if we manage to find the stairways that lead to the rooftop, we can escape through there.“ 

“But won’t they use floodlights to illuminate every side of the bank?” Carapace injected, looking at the girls before Chat Noir smiled. 

“Not unless we escape down,” he offered.

"You mean through the sewers?” Rena asked.

“No offense cat, but aside from that being ridiculous and gross,” Queen Bee huffed crossing her arms, “it would also limit our escape route and if they decide to go through the sewers, they will immediately catch us. Besides it will probably take longer for them to set up floodlights anyways.”

“Look, there’s a mall right across the street and behind it is the Seine, I think going through the roof is best since we don’t have any map of the sewers or know it. It feels like we could be exposed if we get lost, especially if any of us end up using our powers.”

Queen Bee smirked as Ladybug spoke, happy Ladybug was on her side. The rest of the Antiheros agreed, “But I think if time is just too short, we might have to go through the sewers. But we don’t have much more time to change the plan.” She beckoned the others towards her and the blueprints on the floor

All five huddled around as she laid the blueprints on the floor. “Ok so where exactly is the power system?” Marinette asked.

The team managed to pull the robbery almost miraculously. Having lady luck on their side, things went better than expected. Carapace was able to cut the wires of the vault, and banks’ power grid. Luckily the backup generators weren’t up, so the bank was completely unarmed for a good few minutes, giving the Antiheroes some time to snoop around and take some souvenirs. Although they had very little time, they were able to open a good portion of the wall security deposit boxes, and they took some very valuable documents, cash in different currencies and jewelry. As Queen Bee, Carapace and Rena Rouge were distracted with the gold bars and Chat Noir seemed deep in thought while looking at something in a security deposit box, Ladybug slipped something in her yoyo. Then suddenly an alarm blared above, signaling that something was amiss. They decided to cut their losses and get out of there before any more attention was brought to them. With everything secure in their miraculous tools, they ran towards the roof of the building, and saw the lights of the patrol cars closing in, they were about to cross the busy highway when suddenly they saw a huge iron man grow from one of the patrol cars. 

“An Akuma!” Carapace called out.

“Well crap.” Ladybug groaned. “Let’s get rid of it.”

⛄❆❅☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅

Adrien threw his backpack into his room and collapsed in his bed arriving home after a long fight with an Akuma. This one had been rough. The steel man had been the bank director,  and he had previous boxing experience so it was a doozy. He groaned as Plagg started to complain next to him, how many times he had gotten hit as Chat was uncertain but Adrien lifted his shirt and saw an angry purple welt forming near his ribcage. He was certain it had been way too many for comfort. Another of his concerns was a certain blue-eyed girl’s reaction to seeing his bruises. Although the antiheroes were always careful to never get hit in the face or anywhere visible, an Akuma had once hit Chat straight across the face, leaving a nasty black eye. Marinette berated him about being reeekless and not putting his own life before Ladybug’s and the team’s. He felt her love but at the same time it was too much. Marinette’s reaction was really overkill for him, he knew his girlfriend cared but not to this extent. She took care of him, was so gentle and kind, Adrien felt a bit uncomfortable not getting that at home. She worried, and he was very touched that she did, but it also made him worry about not worrying her. 

His girlfriend had obviously known it was Chat who was hit, but Adrien had to make an incident happen at home so his black eye was explained as well. Luckily there were cameras in every crevice of his house, so him slipping and hitting himself on the bannister was more than enough of an excuse. He sighed and put his shirt back down. Plagg floated next to him holding a piece of cheese bigger than his entire oddly shaped head. “Worrying about baker girl?” he offered. 

“If my shirt rides up and she sees this, I’ll be toast.” He sighs.  

“Then wear a girdle,” Plagg said nonchalantly inhaling the cheese, to Adrien’s dismay. 

“I should really lower your cheese intake for the amount of sass you give me.” He narrowed his eyes at the cat god, before laying back down in his bed. 

“Don’t you even joke about that lover boy. Remember I am the god of destruction and I might feel inclined to destroy some of your favorite anime DVDs.”

“I can download them again online.”

“Not your limited edition, uncut Naruto DVD, signed by the voice actors in Japan.”

Adrien sat back up and looked at his Kawamii “You wouldn’t dare do that.”

“Don’t test me.” Plagg laughed before flying back to his cheese.

Adrien groaned and threw himself back on his bed, putting an arm over his eyes and sighed. “I bet Ladybug’s Kawamii wouldn’t threaten me as you do.”

“Sugarcube? HA. She would’ve killed you by now because you wouldn’t be able to give her sweets so readily like cheese. Might I remind you of the long-standing sugar ban in your house?”

“Might I remind you I have a baker girlfriend who’s parents own the best bakery in all Paris.”

“Of whom you’ve been dating for less than a year. How long have you been Chat Noir?”

Adrien groaned in exasperation, knowing the kawamii made a good point. He decided that instead of fighting with his Kawami he should focus his energy on something else, like the present for his girlfriend. He walked over to his desk, where he had already put all his gifts in a box, yet he still hadn’t wrapped. He looked over everything when his eyes landed on a small blue box. He had bought Marinette a bracelet, from that really expensive store Chloe always gushes about, yet it felt impersonal, and wrong to some degree. His girlfriend wasn’t much about jewelry and fancy things, and he knew she appreciated when he made things himself, much like he enjoyed her handmade gifts. He had the feeling that she would still wear the lucky charm he made her more than the fancy bracelet. He let out a long exhale and looked up at the ceiling. What else could he give her? It was too late to buy something at a store, and he definitely couldn’t gift her something he had stolen from the bank yet suddenly his eyes landed on the picture of his mom.  Why hadn’t he thought of that before? His dad was away in the USA, making sure the Agreste line was sold overseas and wouldn’t be back until after Christmas. Nathalie was with his father and Gorilla was fast asleep. He snuck down the hall, careful to avoid any of the camera’s and stood in front of his parents’ bedroom. He hadn’t been in his parent’s bedroom for the longest time, and it seemed his father hadn’t either, as he slept in one of the various guest rooms around the house. He took his unlocking tools from his pocket and worked the keyhole, and quickly stepped inside the dark and dusty room, glad that the door hinge hadn’t made a sound after all these years of neglect. He was surprised to smell his mothers’ perfume amidst all of the dust. The hairs on his arm went up as he realized he wasn’t alone in the room. 

“You okay kid?” He heard Plagg’s voice whisper to him, and Adrien calmed down.

“Thanks, Plagg” Adrien whispered back and smiled, feeling somewhat better after the assault on his sense. Plagg landed on Adrien’s shoulder, nuzzling next to his chosen neck, to give the teenager some sense of calm. He knew how hard it was for Adrien to remember his mother, even after all these years, the boy couldn’t get over the presumed death of his mother; Plagg realized once Adrien left where he was going and followed him, just to make sure the boy was okay. Adrien let his eyes adjust to the darkness before venturing further into the room. He could see the fine layer of dust on his mother’s vanity, where albeit organized had some things out of place where she used them the day before she was gone. He smiled and ventured closer to their closet, a huge walk-in with a variety of colors. He went towards his mother’s side, remembering how she used to go through her things, him sitting on a bench in the middle of the closet. He knew exactly where to go. He opened one of the drawers and found many scarves yet carefully pulled them out, to find a small safe. Even his mother kept some secrets from his father. He put in his birthday as the safe combination and the light turned green and he heard it unlock. He smiled and opened the top of the safe to find an assortment of jewelry boxes, documents, and pictures. Deciding he would never be able to come back, he took the documents and pictures with him, putting them next to the scarves before looking at the jewelry boxes. He found delicate yet fine jewelry that he knew his mother had a sentimental attachment to, her favorite pieces she only wore around places she knew, with the fear of losing them. He opened a small box and smiled brightly. His mother mostly wore what was in the box when it was just the two of them. His father didn’t let either one of them out of the house much and his mother made the most out of their time together. He was suddenly flooded with memories of her; his mother in jeans and a t-shirt the jewelry she wore catching the light and reflecting as she played the piano in their living room, his mother laughing with him as they cooked in the kitchen together, his mother running around the house looking for him as they played hide and seek and then hugging him when she found him, his mother singing him a song about kitties on rooftops following childhood nightmares, his mother hugging him goodbye before a photoshoot promising her son tea later that day before he never saw her again. 

He felt plagg purring on his shoulder bringing him back from his sudden memories, wiping a tear from his eye. He pets his kawami, took the box and put it in his pocket, before closing the safe and putting the scarves back as he found them. He grabbed the documents before heading out, the memories of his mother too much for him. 

He sneaked back into his room, careful to lock the door again and leave everything as it was. He put all the papers in a random drawer in his desk and put the jewelry box inside the gift box for his girlfriend. Plagg, floated away from Adrien as he went back to his bed, flinging himself on it, belly first and buried his head on his pillow. Plagg brought a blanket from his chosen’s sofa and draped it over him, before laying on Adrien’s head in complete silence. He had more experience with his chosen and learned when Adrien needed to be distracted and when he just needed support, this occasion was the latter. They stayed in silence for a while before Adrien lifted his head, pale face red and warm, eyes also red and his cheeks wet. He sighed before going to the bathroom to wash his face. 

The holidays have always been a hard time for him, yet seeing all his mother’s stuff was putting more of a damper on him. He let the sink faucet run before letting the cool clear liquid splash onto his hands. He looked at the water, seeing how it flowed freely, given no pressure, and the sound it made cascading from the faucet onto his hands and then trickling down onto his porcelain sink, carefree. He splashed his face to clear his mind. Reminding himself of things that made him happy. The way Nino moved around when the beat was ‘way too good bro’; the way Alya’s would smile mischievously whenever she had a lead on whatever case she was researching, the way Chloe would buy small things for Sabrina because it was ‘totally out of fashion’ for her, but her best friend would love jt; how ladybug would always pound his fist when they defeated an Akuma; Finally he thought of Marinette the way her blue eyes sparkled brighter than any star in the Parisian night sky and the melody of her laughter when she let herself be carefree with him, the way her body moved with fluidity and confidence when sewing details on her commissions, the curve of her lips when she joked around with him and the unwavering strength of volition in her voice when she spoke those three words that he could hear her say over and over again. He smiled, water dripping from his chin, his miraculous might have been an omen of bad luck, but he felt like the luckiest boy alive. He turned off the faucet feeling much better and dried his face with a towel. He walked towards his desk when he suddenly felt his pocket vibrate. He tapped his phone unlocking it with his face before smiling at the text he received. 

‘Hope the Akuma didn’t interfere with you Iron Man fanfiction.’

‘My princess you underestimate my love for my Iron Man self insert fiction.’

He didn’t have to wait long before his girlfriend texted back and his phone vibrated once again in his hands. 

‘Damn I don’t know if you are a weaboo

or a nerd.’

‘I haven’t mentioned anime ONCE

… Since our last convo.’

‘Nope, I was mistaken you ARE a dork.’

‘Working on my body pillow girlfriend as a Christmas present?’

‘Ah…

I suddenly have something else to do than participate in this conversation’

‘😿‘

‘😂 JK Dorkzilla

But hey are you okay?

Did the Akuma do any damage?’

‘ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMESRatAG04 ’

‘That cat looks terrified

But are you okay? Are you injured?’

‘ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5R5jG_5N5ZU ,

but if that doesn’t convince you then you can come over 😽’

‘Alright

I’ll take it Dorkus Suprimious

I do have to sleep tho

Love you Chaton

Sweet dreams.’

‘Thanks for checking up on me Princess

Rest well and see you tomorrow

Love you bunches’

“Well, you seem to be in a better mood.” Plagg teased, hovering in front of Adrien again. 

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien said, putting his phone down. “You helped me back there.”

“It was nothing kid.” 

Adrien smiled and pet his Kawami, deciding that this was all he needed for the holiday season.

“Well, are we going to unpack what you stole from the bank or what?” Plagg asked and Adrien laughed.

“You realize curiosity killed that cat right?”⛄❆❅���⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆❅❄☃⛄❆

The following night Chat Noir ran across the rooftops in the quiet cold Parisian night, Christmas joy felt pouring out of their house, the dreams of children asleep with the hope presents delivered the following day. He glanced among the lights until he found the one he was looking for. There on the corner, on top of a small bakery, was a balcony emitting a soft glow. He ran with more vigor, feeling almost entirely carefree. There stood Marinette wrapped in a blanket looking at the night sky, deep in thought. 

To think that it was just yesterday that they had pulled the biggest heist to date, fought an akumatized bank director, stole about 6.2 million euros in combined assets of gold, jewelry, and cash. As Marinette stood there deep in thought, in her hand she held the most prized possession from the heist. An inconspicuous seeming black pendant. When she found it inside one of the safety deposit boxes, hidden behind more precious jewels, she knew it was the miraculous she was looking for. The mouse miraculous. She hadn’t had time to properly admire it and let the kawami free of its holding. Now that she was the Guardian, she was a bit more lenient with the kawamis than Master Fu had been, letting them free of their confinements. 

Chat Noir shot his staff from a rooftop over so he could walk over to his lady. “Penny for your thought Princess?” he asked, sauntering over. Marinette blinked and looked at her sudden companion. 

“Damn and I thought that buying that Valerian plant would keep you away,” she smirked, gesturing toward the flower. Chat smirked and walked towards the tall pink plant, bending over to smell its sweet aroma. Something inside him felt even more blissful if that were possible. 

"Princess, whoever told you that was way wrong. I’m pretty sure this plant is calling me more towards here. Oh, I’m so attracted to this plant, Mari, I could just about leave you for it.” This brought forth laughter from the girl and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“To think that it would only take a plant to get rid of you! I would’ve bought it years ago.” 

“Oh, you wound me princess! Would you really get rid of this amazing body and even better puns?” 

“I might’ve just kept the puns.”

 Chat Noir held a hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically. “Your words are like daggers tonight!” 

Marinette laughed again and opened an arm covered in a blanket, inviting her boyfriend to join the warmth. “I have to keep you alley cats on your toes.” She giggled as Chat Noir took her invitation, wrapped his arms around her torso and resting his head on her shoulder. She took this as an opportunity to pull the blanket over his shoulder and kiss his forehead. They remained in silence for a while, admiring the view from her balcony before Marinette felt Chat Noir shifting, the height difference between them finally getting in the way of their cuddling. “Too uncomfortable Kitty?” she asked as he pulled his head from her shoulder.

"Nothing is more comfur-table than your arms,” he purred. 

“I swear if you start with those cat—” Marinette was suddenly cut off as he moved his arms from around her and swiftly lifted her into the air. 

“Chat!” Marinette exclaimed as the blanket fell from their shoulders, her frame hovering a good foot off the floor, nestled between black claws and a leather-clad chest. Thankfully she was holding the pendant tightly in her other hand, if she hadn’t been, it would have surely dropped onto the floor, or worse, off the balcony and onto the street. He wordlessly carried her over to the loveseat she kept near the trapdoor leading to her room. 

He gently dropped her onto her side before going back to get the blanket. Marinette took advantage of this to slip the pendant in her pocket. “You know there are easier ways of shutting me up.” She said, moving her legs over the side of the bench to give the leather-clad criminal some space to sit. 

“I know of at least one other good way,“ Chat retorted, looking at the girl and wiggling his eyebrows. She threw a pillow at the laughing cat, her face bright red. "Okay! Okay! Truce! Damn, my girlfriend has a pretty strong arm,” he said chuckling a wide grin on his face. She stuck out her tongue in response. He picked up the pillow she had thrown at his head as well as the large pink wool blanket. “You know I’m glad you agreed to change your chair to this bench,” Chat said walking back towards it, but instead of giving her a chance to respond he put the blanket on her head. He smiled as he watched the petite girl struggled to find her way out of the blanket. 

“You realize I’m the cat, here right?” He laughed as Marinette pulled the cloth away from her face. With a newfound determination, she stood from the couch and walked up to the tall leather-clad superhero with a bit more sway to her hip. Chat smirked; green eyes focused on her entirely. 

“Oh, I know you’re the big cat here,” she said, flicking his bell with the tip of her fingernails. Chat swallowed loudly. “Which is why I am the strong bug here.”

 Chat looked at the girl quizzically yet had no time to really think as Marinette shoved him towards her trap door. He fell with somewhat of muffled thud onto her bed. Marinette laughed as he stared up at her from his position on the bed, wincing in pain get quickly changed his face to not worry his girlfriend. 

“Long live the king I guess,” he said, making the girl laugh with more vigor. Chat groaned and turned around trying to get up, his foot getting caught on one of the many pillows Marinette had on her bed and proceeded to fall face-first onto the bed again, prompting the girl on the balcony to howl with even louder laughter.  He groaned with pain, why was his little lady so adamant on hurting him today?

“You wish you were Mufasa,” she said, between gasps of air, bent over holding her stomach. in the time she had been distracted he popped his head through the trap door looking taking in the beautiful sight that was his girlfriend. 

"Why don’t you come here and say it to my face?” he quipped ducking back into her bed. 

She smiled and grabbed the blanket off her bench and went down her trap door stairs before closing it to keep the winter air out. She put the blanket over her boyfriend before settling on her knees as she heard the words, “Claws off” come from inside the blanket. She pulled the blanket off and There sitting on her bed was Adrien Agreste, holding his hands behind his back and a Santa hat perched on his head. “Ta-da” he whispered. 

She smiled and blushed, still not used to the model being her actual boyfriend.

“Hey Chaton,” she said softly, before he grinned.

“Nice to know you can practice magic princess.”

“I could say the same,” she said, gesturing towards the hat on his head. He had bought one with a small bell at the end and she dinged it with her fingers. “How is it you go around the world all in one night spreading presents?”

“Well you see princess, as you know I am a world-renowned criminal, infamous even, you might say, so I know my way around breaking and entering,“ he said with a wink.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes a little. "Without you being a renowned,”- she put air quotes around the last word- “criminal, you always seem to be able to break into my house." 

Adrien couldn’t help but laugh, a faint blush gracing his cheeks. "Don’t you mean I break into your heart?” he said before moving closer to the girl. 

“Humph,” was all her response, her cheeks tinged a bright pink. 

“Merry Christmas, Mon Amore,” he said kissing her cheek before producing a box from behind his back. He had hidden it inside his baton and taken advantage of the amount of time it took her to get down to retrieve it. 

“Chaton, thank you,” Marinette said, eyes widening. She gently took the present from his hands. It had been hastily wrapped, and obviously contained more than one object inside. “I see you still are terrible at present wrapping,” she chuckled. 

He laughed, taking it lightly. “It took about three tries to get it looking not so bulky. Why are the corners so hard to fold?” he mused. 

“It takes years to become a master at gift wrapping!” she replied, winking. “Although I am more surprised you managed to contain yourself and get me only one box.”  

“I knew you wouldn’t let me give you more than one present, after what happened the last time I tried showering you with celebration gifts” he said sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. A few months after they started dating, Marinette had to make Adrien stop with the grand gestures every other day and limited him to only one present for celebrations. One time he went overboard and got her 50 presents, one of every kiss they had given each other since they started dating.

“I’m glad you know me so well kitty,” Marinette said as she started to unwrap the box and gently take the top off. She took out the tissue paper from inside the box and found three objects, a jar, a jewelry box and a picture frame. “Adrien…” Marinette trailed off as she took a good look at the frame. It was the picture Alya had taken of them on the train ride to London years ago. She had only heard of the infamous picture, never actually getting to keep it, her red-headed friend vowing it would be a great wedding present when Marinette would finally get the guts to confess to the blonde. “How did you get this?” she asked picking up the frame gingerly. 

“I have my ways,” he said, winking. 

In reality he had broken into Nino’s phone to get it, since no one could know they were dating. Even though Marinette knew his secret identity, finding out only after she helped him escape from one of their many heists, it was better if no one else knew. And to keep Marinette safe he had to make sure no one knew who he was really dating. Being a criminal for so many years only made Chat Noir, along with all the other Miraculous holders, more notable. And even though they lived their civilian lives normally, there was still a risk if they were ever unmasked, and he could not have any of the various enemies they have stolen from even catch wind of Marinette. It was also particularly risky given the fact that Adrien was a public figure, so it wouldn’t be hard to pinpoint the people he cared about. That meant he had to keep their relationship out of the public eye and from their friends, with the risk of them being akumatized. Thankfully Marinette understood and was a bit too on board with it, he had his suspicions as to why. 

She smiled and put the frame down on her bed and took out the jar. The sound was enough to shake Adrien from his thoughts. “Take one out whenever you miss me, or you feel angry or sad,” he prompted after she looked up at him quizzically. It was full of paper stars, and she suddenly realized he probably wrote little notes on them and then folded each slip of paper. He really was the most thoughtful boyfriend. 

Finally, the small jewelry box stared back at her. “Wait!” Marinette exclaimed, suddenly remembering something. 

Adrien looked taken aback as the girl scrambled down her lofted bed and disappeared underneath the bed, towards her desk. She returned towards the steps of her bed holding three neatly wrapped presents. She tossed them on top of the bed, nearly missing Adrien’s head and ran back up the loft stairs. She collected all of them and gave them to her boyfriend, with a small smile on her face as he had a wide smile on his face. 

“I think there was an easier way of doing that princess." 

“All the best things happen spontaneously and in threes.” 

“The best thing that happened was that you managed to do all that without tripping,” he teased his girlfriend.

She rolled her eyes. “Joyeux Noël, Cherie,” she said as he tenderly accepted the gifts. Although he adored his girlfriend he was still surprised whenever she gave him gifts. 

He took the top gift and unwrapped it viciously, excited to see what was inside. He found a pair of knitted gloves, with four accompanying smaller ones. “Wait you made this for plagg too?” He said with wide eyes. She nodded. 

“And he’s probably busy with the camembert croissants I made for him,” she said, lying to cover that Plagg was probably with Tikki and the other Kawamis. 

“God you really are amazing,” he said leaning over to kiss Marinette, making the girl blush red. 

“It wasn’t such a big thing…. But open the rest!” 

He complied with her request putting the smallest box aside and opening the other one that accompanied it, being just slightly bigger than the previous one he just opened. He smiled and tore the wrapping paper again. “Mari…” he trailed off as he looked at the picture. It was a collage of pictures, both from his Instagram as well as candids that seem to be taken by Marinette himself, framed in a beautiful frame. He smiled a bittersweet smile as he saw she had included a picture of him and his mother. “This is just… it so thoughtful I don’t think my present can ever compete with this,” he said looking at his girlfriend. She hugged his frame and laughed 

“Kitty, you can’t ever compete because this isn’t a competition. Just having you here beats this whole thing,” she said reassuring leaning over the gifts to hug him. “Besides you had to do some serious hacking to get this picture so if it is a competition you have me beat, because even I wouldn’t go behind Ayla’s back.” He kissed the top of her head, deciding not to argue, but looked back at his hand and the collage. 

“Wait you haven’t opened my last present!” he said as she took her arms away from his shoulders. 

“That you are about right,” She said. “And you need to open mine.” She said gesturing to the large rectangular box.

 He nodded and started to unwrap his as she gingerly took the velvet box out of the present box. He stopped unwrapping and looked up at Marinette wanting to gauge her reaction. She opened her mouth as she opened the container. “Adrien, this is too much. I can’t accept it,” she said, looking up at him worriedly. 

“It used to be my mother’s,” he started to explain, taking the gift out of her hands. He looked down and saw the small golden heart pendant, lined with diamonds, a smaller heart shaped ruby right inside, with the accompanying stud earrings. “I saw it buried hidden with all her other jewelry; I know she would have loved for you to have it,” he said smiling brightly.

“You really do love me, don’t you?” she whispered in disbelief. To have given her something that special, that meaningful it meant Adrien saw a future with her, with Marinette, clumsy and normal Marinette.

He smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous way. “I do love you Mari, I just hope it wasn’t too much…” he trailed off. She shook her head and took the box from him. “I just saw it had studs and you always use those black ones and it looked like something you would really like…” he trailed off as he saw her gingerly take the necklace our of its packaging. 

“Can you put it on?” He smiled as she handed him the small necklace. He nodded as she turned around and lifted her hair. He clasped it on and kissed the back of her neck gently. “All done my lady.” He smiled, wanting to see if the name would bring forth a reaction from his girlfriend, yet she was too enthralled with the earrings. 

She couldn’t take off her miraculous, but she also couldn’t not put on the earrings, it would hurt him. So, she decided to change tactics. “You still haven’t opened my present, even though it isn’t as beautiful as yours…” she said putting her hair back down and moving away from her boyfriend. 

He smiled. “Anything you give me, my darling, is so special to me,” he said, ripping the neat wrapping paper almost instantly. 

“Sure you don’t need a cataclysm with that?” Marinette joked, trying to lighten the mood as she played with the pendent with her fingers. It felt expensive, no doubt since both Adrien’s parents were loaded it was probably real gemstones, she most definitely could not wear it every day. 

He laughed before opening the box. “A leather jacket?” he exclaimed, ecstatic. He had always wanted to wear one, yet it wasn’t in accordance with his public persona according to his father. 

“I made it myself, I thought it’s time to show the world how good Adrien Agreste looks in black leather.” She winked. He kept looking at the jacket dumbfounded when Marinette suddenly started to explain, nervous she had done a bad job stitching, “I know it’s not your dad’s brand but…”

“I love it! Marinette it looks incredible! It’s a Marinette Original.” He took the jacket out and immediately put it on. 

“How did you get my measurements?” he asked, "it fits like a glove”. 

“Seamstress magic!” she replied not wanting to admit she snuck into his room as ladybug, measured one of this tailored suits in his closet and then left. “I made it incase you ever felt you need a boast of Chat Noir in your day to day life,” she said smiling “And I was this close to making you kitty ears,” she said holding her fingers up very close together. He laughed and pulled Marinette towards him. “How did I get such a great girlfriend?” he asked her, peppering her face with kisses. 

She smiled. “I don’t know, kitty, how did you?” she teased back. 

Adrien pushed their presents to the side so they could lay down on her bed. He hugged her tightly and kissed her head before looking at her smiling. “Marinette, I’m so happy we are together, you really are the most open and kind person in my life, you are my everything.”

Marinette couldn’t help the weight that fell on her, the pendant in her pants felt almost burning, she had a whole side of her that Adrien didn’t know, and she had to find a way to tell him, she couldn’t keep that a secret from her companion, her best friend and her boyfriend. “And you are mine,” she replied smiling.

“Merry Christmas, my Lady.” 

“Merry Christmas, my Kitty.”

[globerjk]

My gift for @chelseaapproved for the ML Secret Santa Exchange - @mlsecretsanta

---

“For the millionth time Plagg, Marinette it’s just a very good friend” Adrien said exasperated. His Kuami was convinced that the boy had feelings for his classmate and was taking the opportunity to tease him once they got to the bathroom before leaving school to go to Marinette´s place for the afternoon.

According to what the little cat kept saying over and over again for the past few months, his chosen -more often than not- showed a softer side for the pigtailed girl who sat behind him at school and now that the boy had agreed, or rather offered himself as the model for her latest fashion competition, Plagg didn’t seemed able to shut up about it.

[alazic02]

ML Secret Santa gift for @ryuucaro!

Merry Christmas!! I hope you have good food and good feelings all around ♡

Hosted by @mlsecretsanta

Artwork ©: alazic02 | buy me a ko-fi

Do not repost.

[driftingwriter]

Water Under the Bridge

Hi @avelyst I’m your secret santa! I really hope you like this piece! @mlsecretsanta

A little piece somewhat inspired by Water under the Bridge by Adele. It has season 3 spoilers!!! You’ve been warned. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21817684

Marinette couldn’t say when it had happened, just that she woke up one day knowing. She sat up in bed gasping, dreams of green eyes and black leather just out of reach and she scrubbed her face. 

“Are you okay,” Tikki asked. 

Marinette let out a startled laugh. “I’m in love with Chat Noir.”

Tikki sighed. “Oh, I thought it was something important.”

“This is important!”

“Not if it was already obvious!”

Marinette groaned into her pillow. She was in love with Chat Noir and it was obvious. Great. Then there was the other problem, which was that she was also in love with Adrien. She chose to ignore her problems as she rose from bed and went about her day. 

She ignored her problems all day and she liked to think she did a pretty good job at ignoring them. That is, until Chat Noir showed up on her balcony later that evening. 

“What are you doing here,” she asked, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him. 

He seemed stunned and looked around. “I come here every night. Am I…are you talking to me?”

She huffed and turned around. A blush was starting to creep onto her face and she didn’t want him to see. 

“Are you okay, Marinette?” A hand gently landed on her shoulder. There was bit of concern in his voice, but mostly it was bewilderment.

She jumped away. “I’m completely fine! You’re fine! No, you’re not okay!”

Chat’s hands were raised in surrender as his wide eyes watched her. “I’m…not?”

Marinette groaned as she leaned forward and buried her face into he’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, but it was muffled and came out sounding more like, “Fime Morry.”

He rested one hand on her back and drew comforting circles with his thumb. The other hand came up to rest on the back of her neck. “What’s going on?”

His touch was only gasoline to the fire, though, and she wasn’t sure she could come up with an answer when his hands were on her like that. “I-I…long day.”

He hummed. “Anything I can do to help?”

She leaned back the slightest bit to peer up at him. He stared down at her, eyes soft and that kind smile on his face. She loved him so much her heart hurt. “You being here is enough." 

His mouth gaped and a blush settled on his face as well. Then he was smiling again, a different one than before. “Then I promise to always be here.”

Well. There went any hopes of ever moving on from him. She buried her face back into his chest. “Okay.”

He chuckled. “Okay.”

He didn’t know how she felt and she didn’t know how he would react if he ever found out, but for now, it was enough. 

But then a month had passed and every day Marinette thought it was impossible to love him more, but, somehow, her feelings grew everyday. And she was starting to think…she groaned into her pillows. 

She didn’t want to even allow the thought into her head, didn’t want to get her hopes up. But she was starting to think…that maybe Chat loved her back…as Marinette. 

It was simple things really, but they added up. Like when he cracked a joke that made her double over in laughter and when she finally stopped she looked up to see him watching her, that same smile on his face, eyes on her like he wanted to never forget that moment. 

Or when she was explaining a new design to him, and she would pause to catch her breath and he would lean over and gently brush her hair behind her ear and then his voice was so soft, a whisper, the wind, but there was so much behind that touch.

Or every night, before he left, he would lean in close and brush his lips against her cheek before pulling away the slightest bit, hands on her waist and then lean his forehead against hers. “Goodnight, Marinette,” he would say, voice as soft as a promise, and then he was gone. Marinette’s legs had gone to jelly many times after that. 

She was blushing now, just thinking of it all, and it was driving her crazy. She wanted to grab him by the bell and yank him down and kiss him. She wanted to hold him in her arms while she whispered to him she loved him. She wanted to love him freely, as he deserved. 

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t tell him or do it or anything because she was the guardian and she had responsibilities and, the truest answer of all, she was scared. 

A knock sounded and she looked up to see Chat waving down at her, a goofy smile on his face. How could anyone be scared of loving him? No, that wasn’t what she was scared of. She was scared of losing him, scared of Chat Blanc repeating itself, scared of everything that could go wrong. And she couldn’t explain it to Chat because that would be her revealing herself. 

She wanted to reveal herself to him. But she couldn’t. Her heart wasn’t the deciding factor in this. She had to be responsible. 

He was leaning against her balcony when she walked out. He turned and grinned at her. “Took you long enough.” His words were teasing. 

She bumped his shoulder as she rested next to him. “Sorry I’m not a fangirl that chases after you at the first glimpse of you.”

He leaned closer, a smirk on his face. “Are you sure you’re not?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but a blush was creeping onto her face. How was it that he always made her blush? “I’m positive.”

“Maybe I like that about you.”

She turned to him, eyes wide and found him already facing her. She forced out a laugh. “Okay, Chat.”

“What?”

She crossed her arms. “You can’t just say stuff like that!”

His grin grew and he leaned even closer to her. “And why not?”

“Because I-because I,” she sputtered as her face continued to redden. She punched his arm. 

“Ow, Marinette,” he grabbed his arm, but he laughed. “Why did you do that?”

“You know why! Stop making fun of me!”

He reached toward her and tipped her head back, his touch fire to her skin. He shook his head, that stupid grin still on his face. “I’m not making fun of you, Marinette. Not right now.”

She pushed him away. “Why are you being so smooth right now? And stop smiling like that!”

He laughed again. “You think I’m being smooth?”

“Chat Noir, I-,” she stopped and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t say it, but you obviously know, and I can’t say why I can’t say it, but you already know so this is basically me saying it, okay?”

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Marinette, what are you saying?”

And what did he keep saying her name like that? It was making her overheated. She looked up at him and allowed him to look into her eyes. “Chat Noir, I…” She didn’t finish, but the teasing glint left his eyes and she knew he understood. “Yeah. That.”

“Oh,” he mouthed. The great superhero of Paris was at a loss for words at last, it seemed. There really was a first for everything. 

“You knew?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s different knowing than knowing, you know?” Somehow, she did. But he didn’t say more and she figured that maybe he didn’t feel the same. 

Turning, Marinette walked to the railing and leaned against it. “I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship. This won’t be awkward for me, so you don’t have to feel bad for me.”

“Why would I feel bad for you?” 

She turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Because you don’t feel the same.”

“What makes you think that?” He said it like it was a ridiculous question that he never expected he would have to ask.

“Stop teasing me, Chat. You didn’t say it back, so you obviously don’t feel the same.”

Chat Noir walked over to her and cradled her face in his hands. He was so close she had to lean her head back to look into his eyes. “Marinette, the most beautiful, sweetest, smartest, bravest, funniest, most incredible girl…you…you just told me, well, not really told me explicitly, but you just told me you felt that way and it’s all I’ve wanted and it’s perfect. I just thought…I thought that if your feelings were clear to me, then how could mine not be? How could you not understand just how I feel for you? But, in case it hasn’t been clear Marinette, let me say this: I feel exactly the same way about you.”

The breath left her and one of his hands wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. He seemed to know exactly what she needed when she needed it. “Oh,” she mouthed. 

He smiled and his thumb brushed her cheekbone. “Yeah.”

It was everything she had ever wanted and it was everything he had ever wanted. But she had responsibilities. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him and pull him in and kiss him until neither of them could breath. But she made herself pull away.

He arms dropped to his side and he watched her. 

“But you’re a superhero. And I’m a civilian. And this can’t…we can’t…I want to, Chat. So incredibly badly, you have no idea…”

There was a fire in his eyes that heated her up and she realized that he did have an idea because he wanted to just as badly. This was so hard. She held up her hand. “Friends?”

He took a step forward. He took her hand, but he didn’t shake it, instead pulling her closer until they were chest to chest, their hands trapped in between their bodies. “Friends.”

But as they stared at each other, though neither of them knew what would come, they both knew there was no more hiding their feelings for one another.

[nobeliumoxygenoxygenmisc]

Masterlist

Miraculous Ladybug

Paris, city of heroes (Kagami Tsurugi)

Stressed (Texting, Kagaminette)

Bastille day (Kagami Tsurugi)

You’re Ladybug?! (Kagaminette)

Sleep, already (Kagaminette, fictober)

Might just kiss you (Kagaminette, fictober)

A certain taste (Kagaminette, fictober)

Halloween on ice (Kagaminette, Marigami week)

Kagaminette headcanons (+ slight Adrino)

Kagaminette headcanons 2 (post-reveal, dragon miraculous Kagami)

Stars are brighter when you’re with me (Ninette, ML secret santa 2k19)

A tart from me to you (Chlogami, ML secret santa 2k20)

The Arcana

Daffodils in my heart (Asra x MC/Reader, hanahaki AU)

You are my sunshine (Asra x MC/Reader)

A promised dance (Asra x MC/Reader, fictober)

HCs

Teaching Portia magic (HCs)

Main 6 receiving love letters (HCs) (modern-ish AU)

Main 6 sleepover with MC (HCs) (modern AU)

Main 6 with MC in the snow (HCs) (modern AU)

Main 6 in secret relationships (HCs)

Main 6 studying with MC (HCs) (modern-ish AU)

Genshin Impact

Fighting with the starters HCs (Amber, Kaeya, Lisa)

Halloween with the starters HCs (Amber, Kaeya, Lisa)

Amber/Lumine HCs (ship HCs, Amber/Lumine)

Other

BNHA masterlist (main blog)

The Dragon Prince masterlist

Kuroko no Basuke masterlist

feel free to tell me if links aren’t working!

[mlsecretsanta]

Backup Gifters

With the creation period underway, some people have asked about being backup gifters! The number of backup gifters we need will change as the creation period goes on, but at the moment we may be looking for up to thirty 

We thank you for your interest in participating and are so grateful for your help! If you are interested in participating as a backup gifter, please fill out the form here:

Backup Gifter Form

After completing the form, you will be provided with a link to a google sheet that we will use to add information about those in need of gifts. 

Please let us know if you have any questions about the process or if you encounter any issues!

[alazic02]

ML Secret Santa gift for @wingedsoulmatedreamer!

Apologies for the tardiness, I hope you had a good holiday season and new years!! Here’s LadyNoir sharing some hot chocolate, probably on patrol ♡

Hosted by @mlsecretsanta

Artwork ©: alazic02 | buy me a ko-fi

Do not repost.

[mlsecretsanta]

Check-In Announcement

We’re well into the creation period which means it’s time for a check-in! This is to make sure you are aware of who will be receiving your gift and are on track to complete and post it between December 16th and December 31st.

You need to check-in by 11:59 PM EST on December 2nd or you will be dropped from the exchange!

This is a link to the form: https://forms.gle/bTZ9uSiq5GL48MEM6 We will also be sending out emails shortly!

Please send an ask or email if you have any questions or concerns!

-MLSS Mod Team

[cheshiremadd]

😭😭😭

Next to Me

MLB Secret Santa

for @obliviousblondesunite, as part of the @mlsecretsanta exchange.

Blondes shared this prompt back in October, completely unrelated to MLB Secret Santa:

Aged up, post reveal, post hawkmoth, established relationship AU inspired by the song “Next to Me” by Imagine Dragons. Adrien is depressed and thinks little of himself sometimes, as Chat and Adrien. Marinette continues to help him through his troubles.

*

It’s been a while since Adrien’s been out of the apartment in people clothes instead of cat ones. A little over a month, actually. He hasn’t been able to look at himself in the mirror; hasn’t been able to sleep. He keeps staring at the ceiling, wondering, if everyone was right, if he could’ve known, if… if he could’ve done something earlier.

The only reason he’s out today is that they’re running out of food. Marinette did that on purpose; after the fourth night in a row where he woke her up with the sound of his sobbing, he knew he couldn’t keep hurting her like this—she has so much patience, so much love, and he can’t bear to keep testing it. He asked her to stop coddling him, to stop letting him wallow. So she let the pantry and the fridge run dry, and gave him two options: either he did the grocery shopping, or she was going to take him to a restaurant.

Restaurant meant more people. Restaurant meant paparazzi. Restaurant meant sitting in public where anyone could see him, unable to leave, unable to duck out, while reporters bombarded him and his girlfriend with questions and camera flashes and accusations and it’s an easy decision.

He holds the shopping basket hooked around his forearms like Dorothy with her basket full of yappy dog and the linoleum aisles are yellow brick road. Plagg is hugging his chest and purring quietly, helping keep him calm, as he walks down the starch aisle.

“Hey…”

Adrien’s hand freezes, hovering over the box of rice. The fluorescent lights burn overhead, a ripping noise in his ears. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

“Aren’t you Adrien Agreste?”

He squeezes his eyes shut as his breath goes cold in his throat, and he clutches his jacket closer around his body with shaking hands. The problem with having his face plastered all over the city for five years: it’s impossible to go anywhere without at least one person recognizing him, no matter how much he wants to just fade away.

“Please,” he whimpers. “I’m just trying to do my grocery shopping.”

The woman in the red wool jacket tilts her head, looking at him with concern in her eyes. “Monsieur Agreste, I’m so sorry about—”

He hears the name again—that man’s name—and his basket slips from his fingers. His ears are assaulted by the crash of plastic striking the floor, and everything is too much, too bright and too loud and too—he has to get out. He has to get out.

“Monsieur Agreste?”

Unthinking, he bolts.

The part of his brain that’s not operating on pure panic regrets it immediately. The grocery store is too large to escape and yet simultaneously too small—the shelves are crushing in on him, squeezing on his lungs, and everyone is staring now at the wild man sprinting toward the exit. But that part of his brain isn’t in control. He’s gone feral, a cornered animal, a shampooed cat launching itself from its owner’s arms. He stumbles into the checkout line, bowling over a patron, and nearly slams into the exit door before it slides open—too slow, too slow.

He barely makes it out of the front door of the supermarket without falling, stumbling around the corner toward the dumpster. He collapses against the side of it with a plastic smack, reaching into his jacket’s inside pocket. Fumbling fingers rip open the cigarette box. He jams it between his lips, desperate, trembling, then snags a match. Scrapes it against the brickwork.

Too slow. No flame.

“Kid, breathe,” Plagg says from inside his pocket.

He wants to. He wants to breathe in hot smoke, he wants to sear his lungs, he wants to feel something that isn’t shame or fear. But the match isn’t lighting.

“Come on,” Plagg says, poking his head out, his disproportionate emerald eyes slow blinking in Adrien’s direction. “What does Tikki always say? Count all the blue things you see.”

Adrien twists his head, looking away from the Kwami. He—he doesn’t—this panic, it feels right, he doesn’t want to stop. He deserves this, he needs this—

“Monsieur,” the security guard looming over him says. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Adrien drops his head and cries.

Keep reading

[shadowrabbit3593]

This is so sad yet beautiful

Next to Me

MLB Secret Santa

for @obliviousblondesunite, as part of the @mlsecretsanta exchange.

Blondes shared this prompt back in October, completely unrelated to MLB Secret Santa:

Aged up, post reveal, post hawkmoth, established relationship AU inspired by the song “Next to Me” by Imagine Dragons. Adrien is depressed and thinks little of himself sometimes, as Chat and Adrien. Marinette continues to help him through his troubles.

*

It’s been a while since Adrien’s been out of the apartment in people clothes instead of cat ones. A little over a month, actually. He hasn’t been able to look at himself in the mirror; hasn’t been able to sleep. He keeps staring at the ceiling, wondering, if everyone was right, if he could’ve known, if… if he could’ve done something earlier.

The only reason he’s out today is that they’re running out of food. Marinette did that on purpose; after the fourth night in a row where he woke her up with the sound of his sobbing, he knew he couldn’t keep hurting her like this—she has so much patience, so much love, and he can’t bear to keep testing it. He asked her to stop coddling him, to stop letting him wallow. So she let the pantry and the fridge run dry, and gave him two options: either he did the grocery shopping, or she was going to take him to a restaurant.

Restaurant meant more people. Restaurant meant paparazzi. Restaurant meant sitting in public where anyone could see him, unable to leave, unable to duck out, while reporters bombarded him and his girlfriend with questions and camera flashes and accusations and it’s an easy decision.

He holds the shopping basket hooked around his forearms like Dorothy with her basket full of yappy dog and the linoleum aisles are yellow brick road. Plagg is hugging his chest and purring quietly, helping keep him calm, as he walks down the starch aisle.

“Hey…”

Adrien’s hand freezes, hovering over the box of rice. The fluorescent lights burn overhead, a ripping noise in his ears. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

“Aren’t you Adrien Agreste?”

He squeezes his eyes shut as his breath goes cold in his throat, and he clutches his jacket closer around his body with shaking hands. The problem with having his face plastered all over the city for five years: it’s impossible to go anywhere without at least one person recognizing him, no matter how much he wants to just fade away.

“Please,” he whimpers. “I’m just trying to do my grocery shopping.”

The woman in the red wool jacket tilts her head, looking at him with concern in her eyes. “Monsieur Agreste, I’m so sorry about—”

He hears the name again—that man’s name—and his basket slips from his fingers. His ears are assaulted by the crash of plastic striking the floor, and everything is too much, too bright and too loud and too—he has to get out. He has to get out.

“Monsieur Agreste?”

Unthinking, he bolts.

The part of his brain that’s not operating on pure panic regrets it immediately. The grocery store is too large to escape and yet simultaneously too small—the shelves are crushing in on him, squeezing on his lungs, and everyone is staring now at the wild man sprinting toward the exit. But that part of his brain isn’t in control. He’s gone feral, a cornered animal, a shampooed cat launching itself from its owner’s arms. He stumbles into the checkout line, bowling over a patron, and nearly slams into the exit door before it slides open—too slow, too slow.

He barely makes it out of the front door of the supermarket without falling, stumbling around the corner toward the dumpster. He collapses against the side of it with a plastic smack, reaching into his jacket’s inside pocket. Fumbling fingers rip open the cigarette box. He jams it between his lips, desperate, trembling, then snags a match. Scrapes it against the brickwork.

Too slow. No flame.

“Kid, breathe,” Plagg says from inside his pocket.

He wants to. He wants to breathe in hot smoke, he wants to sear his lungs, he wants to feel something that isn’t shame or fear. But the match isn’t lighting.

“Come on,” Plagg says, poking his head out, his disproportionate emerald eyes slow blinking in Adrien’s direction. “What does Tikki always say? Count all the blue things you see.”

Adrien twists his head, looking away from the Kwami. He—he doesn’t—this panic, it feels right, he doesn’t want to stop. He deserves this, he needs this—

“Monsieur,” the security guard looming over him says. “I’m going to need you to come with me.”

Adrien drops his head and cries.

Keep reading