Work Text:
Adrien sat in his office, staring at his computer screen. Nothing was on it, he was just lost in thought. Thinking about his lovely fiancé who was probably a few floors below him, hard at work, making sure the new line went off without a hitch.
It had only been one week into the production and she was already overworking herself. She always got like this when something with the company was happening and he would have to ground her back to reality to get her to care for her basic needs..
Adrien’s stare turned into a devilish grin.
It was time to bring out the big guns. He knew how to get her to listen, just like every other time.
At that moment, his door flew open and his whirlwind of a fiancé came rushing into his office, papers flying from her arms as they landed scattered on his desk.
“Adrien! I need you to approve these and get them back, to me, asap!” she spoke quickly, hair falling out of her bun and resting on her shoulders.
He smiled as she spoke a million miles a minute, rambling about deadlines and signatures and fabrics. He nodded along, looking into her eyes, though she was not looking back at him as they were unfocused, her mind already rushing out of the office.
But he stopped her before she reached the door.
“Marinette,” he spoke softly, but firmly, making her stop in her tracks, arms stiff at her side. “Turn around and come back, please.” He pushed the papers aside and reached over to grab the empty glass on the far corner of his desk. He grabbed the glass water pitcher next to it and began to pour the cool water into the glass.
Marinette walked back to the desk, and stood in front of him. He slid the glass slowly across the wood, placing the glass in front of her.
“Drink,” he commanded, bringing his hand back to himself.
“Adrien, I don’t have t-” she whined, stomping her foot.
“I said drink , Miss Dupain-Cheng,” his voice firm and loving.
She stared at him for half a minute, calculating what was happening, before she reached down slowly with her right hand, her slightly calloused palms wrapping around the already perspiring glass, and slowly lifted it to her lips.
She felt the cool liquid run down her throat and into her gut, quenching the thirst she did not realize she had; hydrating her body and making her feel more human than she had felt in days. She gulped the entire glass down, her throat bobbing with each swallow, until the glass was drained.
She slammed the glass back down onto the desk, but not hard enough to shatter, and stared at Adrien, her lips pursed together and her chest heaved from the constant drinking.
Adrien sat there, staring at the glass, his elbows on the desk and his head propped on his intertwined hands. “Good,” was all he said as he reached for the pitcher and refilled the glass. “Drink,” he commanded.
Marinette scowled at him and grabbed the glass again, spilling some of the water onto the desk, and brought it to her lips again, grumbling as she drank more of the cool beverage, slower than the first time.
This time, Adrien stood up and walked around his desk to stand in front of her, leaning against his desk. She stood stiff, ready to lay him on his ass if need be, when he grabbed the glass from her hand and set it gently on the desk behind him. He grabbed both of her hands and ran his thumbs over the backs.
“Adrien! I have to get back to work!” she grumbled and whined, trying to escape his grasp to head to the door, but his grip was strong.
“Come with me, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” he stated.
She stopped fighting him and let him pull her toward the other side of his large office. He released one of her hands, and she thought about smacking the other, but decided against it. He pressed the button and the secret door, that she already knew was there, slid to the side revealing a small room with a vanity, spare clothes, and a small sink. The vanity held various things like brushes, gels, and combs with a stool sitting in front of it.
Adrien led Marinette into the room and stood her between the stool and vanity.
“Sit, please,” he ordered, pressing down on her shoulders.
She resisted a little, knowing she did not have time for this, but catching her reflection in the mirror, she decided against it. Letting Adrien guide her down, she sat on the stool and stared at herself, blinking a few times at the stranger in the mirror. Her make up was smeared on one corner of her eye, which was impossible because it was smear and water proof. Her hair was out of the many pins and bun she attempted to tie it back with and it fell down her shoulder. She looked like a hot mess.
She felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes but Adrien was in front of her before she could blink them away, wiping them with the pads of his thumbs.
“Marinette, look at me,” his voice was firm and loving.
She looked up at his green eyes, filled with love, and felt a shiver run down her spine.
“I need you to listen to me, alright?” he asked softly, yet firm.
She nodded her head.
“I can’t hear you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”
“Yes…Sir,” she sniffled her reply, another shiver going down her spine when she called him Sir.
“Good girl,” he praised. He reached up to her head and began taking the pins out of her hair. “This week, you will address me as Sir, do you understand?
“Yes, Sir,” she agreed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
He finished removing all the pins and leaned in and kissed one cheek and then the other, lingering on both of them. “I’m going to brush your hair, alright?”
“Thank you, Sir,” she smiled at him as he stood up, kissing her forehead on the way up, and grabbed the brush from the vanity.
He pulled the brush through her hair, only catching a few tangles, as he carded his fingers after the brush. He set the brush back down and grabbed a hair tie, pulling her slightly longer than shoulder length hair into a single ponytail.
“I thought about pigtails,” he provided, seeing her confused face in the mirror. “But I remember that time you wore a high ponytail and thought this would be better.”
“This one is a low ponytail, Sir,” she wondered.
He smiled as he finished wrapping the hair tie around her hair. “Yes. But I don’t want my lady getting a headache while she’s working, now do I?”
“No, Sir,” she responded, reaching up to bat at her bangs and flyaways in the front.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of those.” He moved around to the front of her, and one hair pin at a time, clipped her loose strands and the part of her bangs that tried to hang in her face, away from her eyes. “There, now I can see that beautiful face.” He smiled at her and tucked another loose strand behind her ears. “Now, the make up.”
He turned around and opened a drawer, taking out makeup remover wipes, and removed one from the package. Setting the package down, he turned back to Marinette, placed his finger under her chin and made her look up at him. He took the wipe and gently rubbed it under her eye, getting rid of the smeared makeup.
“There’s my lady, trying to hide behind a mask during work hours?” he inquired, raising his eyebrow and grinning down at her.
“No, Sir,” she responded, keeping herself from rolling her eyes. Good girls did not roll their eyes.
“That’s good,” he nodded thoughtfully, moving his attention to the other eye, which was not as bad. “Wouldn’t want identities being known because of a bit of makeup smudge,” he chuckled.
They were silent as he finished up, gently applying a light color of eyeshadow to replace what he had wiped away. There was still a good amount of eyeliner left, enough to finish out the day, and enough to make it look gorgeous.
Marinette sat up straighter, looking at herself in the mirror and feeling more at ease than when she came storming into Adrien’s office fifteen minutes ago in a hurricane of papers.
“Stand up for me,” his voice broke her train of thought and she looked up at him, his hand outstretched for her to take it. She grabbed his hand and he lifted her up, kissing her nose, wrinkling it in response. “Now, I will have those papers signed for you later. Go back to your office, and I will see you later.”
He turned her to face the doorway of the small room and ran his hands down her arms, slowly, he reached her hands and squeezed them lightly, running his finger over her engagement ring, before he moved onto her hips. He gripped them and brought her body back to his, pressing against her. He nuzzled his head into her neck and laid light kisses on every pass of his lips. He nuzzled up to her ear and kissed behind it before taking the lobe into his mouth for only a second, causing her to whimper as he backed away.
“Adrien, Sir,” she whined, leaning into his head. “Don’t tease.”
Adrien backed away from her, pushing her forward at the same time. She went to turn around to give him a dirty look, but was stunned in the forward facing position as Adrien’s hand smacked her backside just right.
“Back to your office, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien smirked, his voice firm and commanding.
Marinette straightened her posture and walked to the door. She placed her hand on the handle before she looked back at him. “Yes, Sir.” And she walked out, closing the door behind her.
*********
Marinette grumbled as she sat down at her desk. “Stupid cat. Stupid fiancé. Stupid kisses.” She rubbed her legs together, feeling the slight dampness that he had caused her just by taking care of her.
“Miss Dupain-Cheng! You’re back!” a voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Abigail,” Marinette nodded to her newest intern. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Marinette?”
“Sorry!” the woman squeaked. “Well, a messenger came to deliver this for you. I thought you were still upstairs.” Abigail held out her hand with the object in it.
“A water bottle,” Marinette huffed. She took the bottle from the intern’s hand and waved her off. There was a folded note attached to the bottle and she set the bottle aside to read it.
Drink this whole bottle by the end of the day or no kisses for the rest of the week. Can you handle this punishment?
She scowled and stuck her tongue out at the note. Crumpling it, she tossed it in the trash before grabbing the water bottle and opening it and downing a few gulps before reapplying the cap and resuming her work.
*********
Marinette watched her employees head to lunch as she sat at her desk and continued to work. She needed to get the schedule organized, make any last minute adjustments on clothing, and make sure that all of the accessories were in order; which was much easier to do without everyone popping in and out of her office every ten seconds to ask her a question.
She was able to keep the door locked during the hour everyone was away, but she did not account for the fact that she had the emergency window slightly cracked to let in some fresh air. She also did not account for the sudden smell of her fiancé’s cooking to come wafting from in front of her face.
She looked down in surprise at the bag that was placed on top of her work. She went to turn around to look at her window when…
“ Don’t turn around,” a deep voice commanded.
“And why shouldn’t I?” she questioned, squirming in her seat.
“You’ll do as I say,” he retorted, his voice closer, almost like he was hovering over her. “Move your work to the side, Mrs. Agreste ,” he purred in her ear.
She shivered and moved her papers and tablet to one side of her desk. “I’m not sure who your sources are, but I’m not Mrs. Agreste.” She took the hot container from the bag and placed the bag on the floor.
“Not yet, you’re not,” he chuckled deeply. “Technicalities, as it were. You seem to answer to it all the same.”
She hummed thoughtfully as she removed the lid from the plastic container. She felt her body melt when the steam and smell of the food hit her nose and wafted over her. Adrien could not cook many things, but he had a go-to food that he loved to cook. He found it in a Mexican cookbook that her father had around the house and saw the simple recipe and decided that he wanted to give it a go. It became their meal of choice when Marinette was too tired to cook anything else.
“This is the messiest thing you could have broug-” she complained but was interrupted when a fork was dangled over her head and into her face. She wrinkled her nose and took the fork from the claw-tipped hand, shivering as they grazed her fingers. “And a-” A knife appeared in front of her face where the fork was and she grabbed that before the hand disappeared again.
Her stomach rumbled at the smell of the food, realizing that she had not eaten since breakfast; if coffee and a muffin counted as a meal. She placed the knife in her right hand and the fork in her left and put them into the burrito, cutting a good third of the end off. She forked it, trying to prevent the bean mush from falling out, and lifted it to her mouth.
“Stop,” he commanded. “Put it back in the container.” Lightly growling, she placed the burrito and fork into the container again. “Now, a lady takes smaller bites. She doesn’t rush to eat her lunch. Cut the piece in thirds.”
“Yes, Sir,” she gritted her teeth, pulling the fork out and stabbing the fork back into one end of the burrito as she cut the end in thirds; all of the beans and cheese squirting out of the tortilla shell.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, claws catching her shirt fabric a little, and shivered at his contact.
“Eat the bite. Chew it slowly,” he directed, squeezing her shoulder.
She scooped the piece onto her fork, careful to make it not drip, and put it in her mouth. Closing her eyes, she relished in the sensation of food on her tongue and his breath on her neck.
“Swallow,” he whispered in her ear. She quickly swallowed and gasped, trying not to choke. “I didn’t say choke, My Lady,” he chuckled, his breath still caressing her ear. “Maybe you need a sip of that water you’re supposed to be drinking?”
She stared at the water bottle she was given earlier and noticed that since she had the thing, that she had only taken those first few sips when she had first gotten it. She grabbed it, unscrewed the cap, and put the spout to her lips. She tilted her head back as she gulped the room temperature water. As she leaned farther back, she felt her head hit a hard chest and his voice whispered again.
“Good girl.”
She quickly took the bottle away from her lips so as not to choke again and placed it back on her desk.
“Finish your food,” he instructed her.
She inhaled deeply and exhaled with a shaky breath. Who knew that being told basic needs for yourself was so hot. She did. This was not the first time this happened. She really should have expected this, considering how hard she had been working herself the last week. As she took the next bite of the burrito, she thought about what else her loving fiancé had in store for her.