Work Text:
“Adrien's looking at you again.”
Marinette didn't raise her head. “Can you look over this for me?”
“He's staring,” Chloé whispered.
She ignored it. “I need someone to check this before I send it.”
“You can't make me work, I'm on my lunch break,” Chloé replied, swinging her legs from where she was perched up on Marinette's desk. It caused the computer screen to wobble. “Hurry up so we can go eat, will you?”
“I need to finish this, you insufferable—”
“I can review it for you.”
It wasn't Chloé that spoke.
Adrien stood beside them with a smile on his face and his eyes trained solely on her.
It took a moment for her to put on a polite smile. “No, thank you—”
“Yes, that'll be great,” Chloé agreed for her, hopping to her feet. And as she tugged Marinette up and away from the chair, she said, “Can you send it to the boss man as well? Thank you.”
Adrien didn't look at Chloé. “It's no problem.”
Marinette waited until they were out of the door to slap Chloé's arm. “What are you doing?”
“That man is making serious heart eyes at you,” Chloé retorted, shoving Marinette right back childishly. “And he just gave up his lunch break to do your work for you. Do you believe me yet?”
“I'm not interested,” she said.
“Flutter your eyelashes a bit and he'll do more for you,” Chloé mused.
She pulled a face. “No, thanks.”
Adrien wasn't deterred by her disinterest.
Thankfully, the best part of working in the same office as her best friend meant that Chloé was there to act as a buffer without realising it. When there was a chance to talk, Chloé would wander over and block Adrien from her view.
Unfortunately, Adrien's desk was right beside her.
It wasn't always like this.
While they'd entered the company at the same time—Marinette joining per Chloé's suggestion—his interest hadn't been obvious until Chloé had pointed it out. Now it was a well-known fact of the office; if Marinette was somewhere, Adrien was close by staring at her more often than not.
His work ethic made up for what a distraction she was for him.
Their co-workers thought it was endearing.
Marinette didn't care.
“Give it to me straight,” Chloé said, slamming her hands on the table. “Why won't you just fuck him and get it over with?”
She sighed, burying her face in her hands. “Why must you torment me as well?”
“Because people torment me about your lack of… I don't know, a heart?” Chloé responded.
“Fuck you,” she mumbled.
“Tell him, then,” Chloé suggested. “It's getting seriously painful to watch.”
“I'm just—I'm not interested, okay?” Marinette replied, leaning back in her chair in exasperation. “I don't need to tell everyone. They don't need to know! So what if I'm a—a hopeless romantic that wants to be swept off of my feet? No one's ever going to match up to my novels, so why bother?”
Chloé laughed.
When there was a drink on her desk early in the morning, there was no need to wonder who it was from.
Adrien didn't need to leave a note when he was sitting right beside her.
Marinette asked him bluntly, “Why did you get this?”
He smiled. “I reached enough points for a free drink. I thought you'd like it.”
Her smile was strained. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome.”
After a sip, she realised it was her favourite.
Fuck him.
“Marinette, if you don't put that man out of his misery soon—”
It was frustrating.
Why did she have to address it at all? She wasn't leading him on nor had she given any indication that she even liked him. They barely spoke despite sitting next to each other.
And yet, it was everyone's favourite topic of gossip. Agreeing to go out for a drink with her co-workers was one of her worst choices yet.
As soon as Adrien had gone off to the toilet, everyone had turned to her.
Someone sighed. “He's so handsome.”
“And have you seen his arms?”
Chloé was enjoying her suffering.
Marinette knocked back her shot.
Being attractive wasn't all that mattered in a relationship. There was also the fact that they worked together, so she wanted to avoid any awkward encounters if it went south.
But she couldn't escape being asked about it.
She placed the glass down loudly. “If I go on a date with him, will you all shut up?”
There was a cheer.
Chloé hid her laughter behind her hand as the others celebrated Marinette's statement.
Since Chloé was her only friend here, it was her that realised that Marinette wasn't saying it to be hyped up.
She stood up without another word, trying to school her expression.
It didn't take long to find him. Adrien was standing outside the toilet, scrolling on his phone.
“Hey,” she greeted.
He glanced up before doing a double-take, and then he straightened up. “Marinette? This is the queue for the men's toilet.”
She brushed her hair behind her ear. “Do you like me?”
Adrien blinked.
She waited for a response.
His smile was bashful. “I... I thought I was hiding it.”
It didn't come as a surprise at all.
Seeing Adrien shyly touch the nape of his neck as he waited for her response didn't stir any feelings in her.
“Everyone knows,” Marinette replied, gesturing vaguely over her shoulder. “I figured it's about time that we... addressed this, I guess.”
He swallowed. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”
There wasn't anything wrong with him.
Adrien was tall, attractive, and kind. In the eyes of many, he was the perfect boyfriend—their co-workers told her such things all of the time whenever they caught him staring at her. While anyone else would've been overjoyed at being the centre of his attention, it was different for her.
That was bad.
“No,” she lied.
His expression brightened. “No?”
She didn't look away. “I want to go on a date with you.”
“Y-you do?” Adrien stuttered out in disbelief. “Oh, wow. Okay. That's—yeah, we can do that.”
“Give me your number,” she said, not phrasing it as a question.
Either he didn't realise how unenthusiastic she was about all this, or he genuinely didn't care because she was finally giving him the time of day.
Adrien took out his phone and had her recite her number.
He held the phone to his chest with two hands as though it was something precious. “I'll text you.”
She nodded. “Cool, thanks.”
“I'll...” Adrien shuffled further forward in the queue, gesturing to the toilet. “I'll see you back at the table?”
Marinette tried to smile. “Yeah, bye.”
He grinned right back at her.
As soon as she turned around, her expression faded to blank. She walked away without looking back at him, though she knew that he would still be smiling.
Her co-workers at the table were looking at her expectantly.
She didn't answer a single question.
“What,” Chloé demanded.
Marinette continued to look at her nails. “I'm going to dinner with Adrien tonight.”
“You don't even like him!” Chloé exclaimed, sounding outraged at the thought. “He didn't pressure you into this, did he? You can report him for harassment—”
“He's, like, perfect,” she said, sounding forced to her ears. “What's the harm in giving him a chance?”
Chloé was disgusted. “You've been brainwashed.”
“My fortune said that I'll die sad and alone at this rate, so Adrien's my best bet to change that,” she replied, fidgeting to sit on top of her hands. “And he's eye candy. I can always drown him out and stare at his face if it gets too bad.”
Chloé breathed out audibly. “There are so many things I want to say to you, but I'll settle with calling you an idiot.”
She laughed.
“You better tell me everything,” Chloé said. “I need to look this man in the eyes next week and visualise how he tried and failed to seduce you.”
She patted Chloé's shoulder. “You have problems.”
“My problem has a name,” Chloé retorted, slapping her hand away. “And it's you.”
Marinette blew a kiss.
Chloé raised her middle finger.
After refusing for him to pick her up, Marinette met Adrien outside of the restaurant.
It was like a scene from a movie. He stood there dressed better than she'd ever seen him, his hair was styled neatly, and there was a bouquet of expensive flowers in his hands. And when he caught sight of her—raising his hand to wave—the smile on his face was breathtaking.
Her heart didn't skip a beat.
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the bouquet.
“I hope you like it,” Adrien murmured.
They were her favourite flowers.
She didn't tell him that, though. Instead, she had to walk back to the car park to put the flowers in her back seat. Adrien assured her that the stems wouldn't leak through the container and stain her seat.
It continued being the standard version of perfect.
Adrien asked the right things; games she'd mentioned in passing at the office, about Chloé, and about her other hobbies. He was surprisingly easy to talk to when they were one-on-one without any prying eyes looking at them.
She didn't mind him.
So when he rested a hand on the table, she reached across to hold his hand.
Adrien's smile was soft. “You're very pretty, Marinette.”
“Thanks, I dressed up,” she replied.
He laughed.
It wasn't a joke.
There wasn't a single fault in what he was doing. Adrien didn't make any remarks that turned her off, nor did he eat without any table manners. He waited until he'd swallowed to reply to any of her comments, he wiped his mouth with the napkin delicately, and he never had anything in his teeth when he smiled.
He was the picturesque boyfriend.
When the waiter came over to take their plates from their mains, he requested the dessert menu without looking at her for confirmation.
Adrien happily passed her the first menu. “I brought you here specifically for the desserts.”
For all the things he knew about her, she knew surprisingly little about him. Gossip had reached her ears a few times, but she'd forgotten most of it.
Adrien had been insignificant.
Would it be so bad to let him in?
They could be that cheesy couple at the office that everyone rolled their eyes at. With their desks being side-by-side, they wouldn't have to visit different departments to see each other.
It was the perfect scenario.
Adrien interlaced their fingers. “What do you like the look of?”
She stayed quiet.
“You're looking at me, not the options,” he chastised, using his free hand to prop his head up with his elbow on the table. “Have I wooed you already?”
“What have you done to seduce me?” Marinette countered. “A bit of hand-holding isn't enough to get in my pants, sorry.”
He laughed. “What is?”
“Isn't that for you to find out?” she replied. “You're here to get to know me.”
“Aren't you getting to know me?” Adrien answered, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I think I know more about you.”
There was no denying that.
Marinette raised her eyebrows. “You do?”
“Chloé's rather loud,” he pointed out. “And she's very... open.”
“That's an understatement,” she muttered.
“It's nice,” he said, looking at her with a smile. “I like hearing the two of you talk. It's entertaining.”
Adrien had never complained whenever Chloé came over to talk while he was working. Nor did he call Chloé out for ever mentioning his staring.
Marinette had no idea what she'd done for him to like her so much.
She asked, “Why do you like me?”
Adrien's confidence seemed to wither for a moment where he looked alarmed before returning to his previous expression. “Are you asking me to stroke your ego?”
“I don't understand you,” she said slowly, taking her hand away to put them both in her lap, out of his reach. “We've never... I don't talk to you.”
Adrien cleared his throat. “Haven't you ever had a crush, Marinette?”
She tilted her head.
“I can't even put it into words,” he told her quietly, brushing his hair out of his face. “It's—I really can't describe how I feel about you. The fact that you're here with me now feels like a miracle.”
It was the perfect speech—something ripped from a teenage romcom that would've had the audience fawning over his openness.
And yet, she wasn't overjoyed with it.
“Oh,” she said.
Adrien smiled at her shyly. “Is that enough for you?”
“...Yes.”
“I hope you'll see me again,” he whispered.
“We haven't had dessert yet,” she pointed out.
“Have you made your decision, then?” Adrien questioned. And when she shook her head, he suggested, “Why don't we split them? That way you can try two.”
Marinette was surprised by the offer. “Are you sure?”
“I told you, I brought you here for the desserts,” he reminded her with a laugh. “I have to make a good impression somehow.”
“You're not doing bad,” she said.
Adrien tapped the dessert menu pointedly. “As soon as you taste a dessert, you'll be so overjoyed you'll play footsie with me.”
She smiled at that. “That's a bold claim.”
“I'm telling the truth,” he said.
True to his words, the dessert was the best part of the meal.
Instead of tucking into his dessert, Adrien had his eyes on her. “How is it?”
Since her mouth was full, she decided to nudge his leg underneath the table.
His smile showed dimples on his cheeks.
“Hi, Marinette,” Adrien greeted her shyly.
She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Hey.”
“Did you get here okay?” he questioned.
“Yeah, my bus was a bit late,” she replied, stopping in front of him. “Did you wait long?”
“No, not at all,” he said.
The tip of his nose was red from the cold. And she was sure that if she held his hands, his fingers would be in the same condition. He wouldn't have been this cold if he'd only been here a few minutes.
“I did text to say I'd be a while.”
“I didn't want to wait inside,” he admitted, touching the back of his neck. “I thought you'd have trouble spotting me.”
“We could've met inside,” she pointed out.
“No, no, this is a monumental moment,” Adrien said, straightening up.
It made her smile. “Is it? I don't recall anything important happening...”
He offered his hand out to her. “It's our first day going to work as a couple.”
“I didn't realise that was a thing people celebrate,” she mused, gingerly taking his hand.
“It's a big deal for me,” he replied, interlacing their fingers with a smile. As they started to walk through the entrance, he opened up the door and used his back to keep it open, allowing her to pass through first. “I'm going to remember this forever.”
She laughed. “You're very dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” Adrien repeated with a laugh. “You haven't seen anything yet. This is my fatal flaw and you're seeing it up close and personal.”
“Your poor decisions?” she questioned.
“No, I fall in love too easily,” he corrected without any shame. “Tell me if I get... too much.”
Marinette snorted.
“Please,” he added.
“Sure, dude,” she replied.
“Dude?” Adrien demanded. “Can't you call me something nicer?”
“Dude is affectionate,” she pointed out. “I don't call just anyone that—in fact, that's the first time I've called you that.”
He huffed. “And I want you to take it back.”
“Too late, dude,” she teased.
He grimaced.
Marinette laughed again. “Is this countering your flaw?”
“No, it's not,” he denied.
“What if I give you a thumbs up after we kiss?” she questioned.
Adrien's expression brightened up. “You're planning on kissing me?”
She rolled her eyes.
“What the fuck,” Chloé demanded.
Marinette didn't look up from my keyboard.
Chloé slapped her hand on the desk. “You're dating him?”
“Yes.”
“And I had to find out through the office gossip?” Chloé questioned in outrage.
She smiled. “That's what you're upset about, isn't it?”
“Of course it is!” Chloé exclaimed, sounding infuriated. “You said it didn't go well! Why the hell are you strutting in here making heart eyes with him?”
That had her lifting her head. “I did not make heart eyes.”
Chloé snapped her fingers in Marinette's face. “Answer the question, bitch.”
She slapped Chloé's hand away. “I'm giving him a chance, okay? I'm not running into the sunset with the guy.”
“Why.”
“Shut up, will you?” Marinette demanded, glancing over her shoulder. “He'll be back any minute and I don't want him to hear you talking shit. I'll tell you whatever you want later, okay?”
“I want to understand what the hell is going on in your little brain,” Chloé muttered.
“You look nice,” Adrien complimented.
“Thanks,” Marinette said.
They stared at each other for a moment.
She realised that she was supposed to do something more than that.
Tucking some hair behind her ear, she questioned, “How has your morning been?”
“It's been... fine,” he replied.
“Great.”
“Yeah,” he said.
She nodded.
And that was the end of their conversation for that morning. Marinette sat down and booted up her computer, getting straight to work.
He didn't disturb her.
A messenger notification appeared some minutes later from Chloé. It was an emoji throwing up.
She ignored her.
Chloé spammed her.
Marinette did not reply to a single message.
And by the time it was lunch, she hadn't spoken to Adrien any more than was necessary for work. She didn't look at him simply to admire him, hadn't touched his shoulder on her way past, and she definitely hadn't spoken to him when she'd finished her work early.
She'd gone onto her phone instead.
Chloé met her outside so they could go to a café for lunch.
“I can feel the tension from across the room,” Chloé remarked.
Marinette blinked. “Huh?”
“And it's not even the sexual kind like new couples,” Chloé continued, walking with a confident sway to her hips. “Did you two have a fight already?”
“What are you on about?”
Chloé glanced over her shoulder with raised eyebrows. “You and your new boyfriend?”
“Oh,” Marinette said. “No, we're fine.”
“Fine,” Chloé repeated.
“Yeah, it's all good,” she replied.
Chloé laughed.
She frowned. “What?”
“That wasn't all good at all, you idiot,” Chloé said, stopping to turn around and place her hands on her hips. It was an authoritative pose. “Adrien kept looking at you and you didn't notice him a single time. He was a lovesick puppy waiting for a speck of attention.”
“No, he wasn't,” she denied immediately.
“How long have you been together?” Chloé questioned.
“I dunno, since the weekend?” Marinette replied.
Chloé sighed. “And when did you last see him outside of work?”
“I meet him in the mornings—”
“Literally outside of work doesn't count either,” Chloé interrupted.
Marinette's shoulders slumped. “...On the weekend.”
Chloé let out another loud sigh.
“I'm tired from work,” she said.
“Are you texting him?” Chloé asked. “Are you talking for hours on the phone?”
“No, I tell him when I'm going to bed and that's it,” Marinette admitted. “He's not very... talkative. Not over text, I mean.”
“He's probably waiting for you to actually show some interest in him!” Chloé exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I can't believe I'm on that idiot's side. Throw the dog a bone, won't you?”
Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I'm not jumping into bed with him.”
“That... is not what I was suggesting at all.”
“You said bone and my mind connected the dots,” she replied.
Chloé scoffed. “There were no dots to connect.”
“Okay, I read between the lines,” she corrected.
“You need reading glasses because you're so wrong,” Chloé replied.
Marinette bumped against Chloé's shoulder. “Am I really that bad?”
Chloé made a thoughtful noise. “You seem like me if I was dating a guy.”
She stared. “Chloé, you're gay.”
“My point exactly!”
Marinette was horrified. “Does it really seem that way?”
“Yes, it does,” Chloé said with an amused tone. “Come on, Marinette. You're not completely clueless.”
“...I didn't know he liked me until you pointed it out,” she mumbled.
“And now I'm telling you that you need to make it more obvious that you like him,” Chloé replied.
She pursed her lips.
Chloé patted her arm. “Eat some food and work up the courage to offer to suck his dick.”
“So you did mean get in bed with him—”
When Adrien wished her a nice sleep over text, she pressed call.
He answered immediately. “Marinette?”
Adrien didn't sound sleepy.
“Hey,” she said.
“Is everything okay?” he questioned, concern clear in his voice. “Are you—what's wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong,” she replied, a bit bemused by his reaction. “Am I not allowed to call my boyfriend?”
There was a beat of silence.
She wondered whether she'd said the wrong thing.
“...Uh, you haven't before,” he said in a whisper.
“There's a first for everything in a relationship,” she replied matter-of-factly.
He let out an amused breath. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she said. “Like, me asking if you want to hang out tomorrow.”
“That doesn't sound like a question,” Adrien mused.
“It's implied,” she said.
“I don't know, I'm having trouble deciphering it,” he teased. “Why don't you ask me properly?”
“Adrien,” she started, dramatically clearing her throat. “Will you do me the honour of spending some time with me tomorrow?”
“We could get lunch,” he offered.
It was a good idea.
Their lunch break would be limited and they'd be seen spending time together by others. She wouldn't have to give up her free time to try and make the relationship work.
Except she shouldn't be thinking like that.
“No,” she decided, hoping that she sounded confident. “After work, please.”
“What about as well?” he countered.
Chloé wasn't wrong.
Their relationship was very one-sided right now. Marinette didn't dislike him; he was kind, easy-going, and fun to be around once the initial awkwardness had melted away. There wasn't a lot of time to get that far when there were eyes on them at the office.
Maybe she needed to get over that problem to fully consider whether she wanted to be with him.
“...Sure.”
Adrien rushed to say, “Okay, good night!”
Then, he hung up.
Baffled, she stared at her phone screen.
“There's a café nearby that has nice yoghurt pots,” Adrien proposed, holding her hand as they walked down the street and considered their options of where to go. “They're made each morning, so the fruit is fresh.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“You'll like it,” he said.
“You can't be right all of the time,” Marinette replied.
He was.
Adrien smiled smugly when she had a bigger spoonful for her second mouthful.
“Do you hate PDA?” Adrien questioned.
“Scooting your chair over to mine isn't PDA,” Marinette said, using her foot to push his chair away. His weight meant that he barely moved. “This desk is my safe space, stay away.”
“You let Chloé sit on it,” he muttered.
Marinette laughed. “Are you sulking?”
He pouted. “Yes.”
“Chloé has no idea what personal space is,” she replied, spinning around to face him properly. “And no, I don't hate it. I'm... awkward. It takes me a while to warm up to that.”
He tapped his armrest. “That's why you let go of my hand this morning?”
“I had to get my ID out,” she answered.
Adrien's eyes narrowed. “It was hanging around your neck. You could've used your other hand.”
“Are you that petty?” she demanded, more amused than outraged. “I'm so sorry for using my dominant hand to do a task. What a bad person I am.”
He nodded. “Yes, you are.”
Marinette rolled her eyes.
“You're lucky you're cute,” he murmured. “How else could you get away with such rudeness?”
She tried to kick his chair away again.
He moved an inch. “So rude.”
She tutted.
“Marinette has plans already,” Chloé announced, wrapping her arm around Marinette's shoulder to pull her into a half-hearted hug. “We'll see you later. Bye.”
Adrien's lips were pressed into a thin line.
Chloé gloated, “I'm more important than you.”
Marinette jabbed her in the stomach. “Let's not put words into my mouth.”
His smile was tight and didn't reach his eyes. “I'll text you later, Marinette.”
“Yeah, see you,” she replied, glancing up at Chloé to give her a pointed look.
Chloé huffed. “Bye.”
Adrien walked away without another word.
It was an awkward encounter that hadn't happened before. Adrien hadn't had to butt heads with Chloé for her attention, so she hadn't been prepared for his change in attitude towards her friend.
“Must you antagonise him?” Marinette demanded, shoving Chloé away. “You were fine with him before!”
“I don't like his vibes lately,” Chloé explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. “They're bad.”
“Adrien doesn't have bad vibes,” she spluttered, recalling how he'd expressed his dislike by ignoring Chloé completely. “Adrien's... literally a puppy in human form.”
At least, he usually was.
This could've been an off-moment for him. Maybe he was having a bad day and he wanted to talk to her to cheer up—
And wasn't that thought odd? Marinette had never expected to be that person for him, but she was well on the way to claiming it. They texted a lot more, met up for food every weekend, and she sometimes got a call in the morning when she didn't respond to his text fast enough. He wanted to make sure she was awake so she wouldn't go to work late.
It was nice of him.
He was doing everything perfectly, so it was natural for him to clash with the person that she spent the most time with, wasn't it?
She wasn't too sure.
“His tail only wags when he looks at you,” Chloé commented, picking up Marinette's bag from the floor and tossing it at her. “When you're not looking, he's not that friendly.”
That wasn't the image that everyone else had, though; the office gossip was that Adrien was the golden employee and surely up for promotion soon due to his good attitude and standard of work.
His reputation had soared positively those few times Chloé had duped him into doing Marinette's work so they could go to lunch and leave him to it.
She never heard a bad thing about him.
“That doesn't make any sense,” Marinette rebutted. “Everyone likes him.”
“I don't,” Chloé corrected.
“You're not everyone,” she countered, pressing the button for the lift a bit too aggressively. “Whatever, you just don't like to share. Are you going to piss on me to stake your claim?”
Chloé laughed. “I won't, but he might.”
She grimaced as they stepped in the lift. “You're disgusting.”
“You're the one that brought it up!” Chloé exclaimed.
“Stop being mean to my boyfriend,” Marinette chastised, narrowing her eyes. “If you insist on being childish, I won't put you two in the room together.”
“That's fine by me,” Chloé said, leaning against the wall. “I'm not planning on meeting up with him, thanks. And there's nothing worse than imagining going out for dinner with you two.”
“Not even for a double date?”
Chloé pretended to gag.
She snorted. “Drama queen.”
“How am I supposed to seduce someone when you'll be sitting pretty across from me?” Chloé retorted, pointing a finger at her in accusation. “You'll do something cute and she'll stop playing footsie with me to ogle you.”
“It happened one time—”
“And it won't again!” Chloé exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes.
It turned out that Chloé and Adrien were as childish as each other.
When Chloé came over to socialise at work, she didn't greet Adrien.
Adrien ignored her right back.
Marinette didn't care enough to try and mend whatever went wrong with their amicable relationship from before. If Chloé wanted to butt heads with her boyfriend for no reason, she was free to as long as nothing too annoying happened.
Chloé's complaints about Adrien were mostly jokes. There was nothing serious, thankfully.
Adrien avoided bringing her up altogether.
However, when Chloé stole her away for another lunch where she'd been about to go with Adrien, Marinette thought it was right for her to apologise on Chloé's behalf. She hadn't liked how Adrien's shoulders had slumped when she'd said goodbye.
“I'm sorry,” she said, tucking some hairs behind her ear as she sniffed. “I shouldn't have left you again.”
“I'm not upset,” Adrien replied with a smile. He rummaged through his bag and produced an unopened pack of tissues to hand one to her. “Chloé was your friend first, I get it. I'm not—I won't interfere with that. And I won't ask you to spend all your time with me either.”
It was the perfect answer.
Adrien was giving her an out and making it seem like he was in the wrong for expecting anything else in the first place.
The problem was that for her, she hadn't changed anything in her life for him. Since Adrien had become her boyfriend, she'd fit him into her spare time instead of making compromises.
And now he was saying that was fine.
Even she knew that it wasn't.
“Thank you for the tissue,” she said, blowing her nose loudly.
“Are you feeling okay?” he questioned.
“Yeah, I had spicy food,” she replied, pointing to her mouth. “Can't you see how red my lips are? My mouth's still on fire.”
“...I thought you had lipstick on.”
She beamed. “No.”
“It's a nice colour,” he said.
“Thank you, I'm glad my suffering was worth it.”
“Are you good with spicy food?” Adrien questioned.
“Eh.” She made a vague hand gesture. “I'm okay with it. It's more about the flavour, you know? If it's so hot I can't taste anything, I think that's a waste.”
“That's smart of you,” he remarked.
She winked. “I'm all brains when I'm thinking with my stomach.”
“Where does your stomach want to eat on Friday night?” he questioned.
It was smooth of him.
“I have plans with Chloé,” she told him apologetically.
Adrien sighed. “I see how it is...”
“We could go out Saturday!” Marinette offered before she winced. “Actually, scratch that. I might be too hungover to actually stomach good food. What about Sunday for lunch? We can even get brunch at that place we went to last time.”
Adrien snorted. “Should I write this in my calendar?”
“Yes, please do,” she replied, haughtily raising her chin. “You should write me out for the whole of Saturday. I'll be busy dying in bed.”
He laughed. “Ah, so it's confirmed that you'll be hungover now?”
“Yes, I've decided now that I want it,” she said.
Adrien pouted. “I see how it is.”
Marinette smiled. “I'll hold your hand at brunch.”
“Will you look in my eyes as you do it?” he questioned.
“Yes.”
He clenched a fist in victory. “Cool.”
“Where's the boytoy?” Chloé asked, turning her head to glance around the office. “I don't see him lurking in any corners.”
“He went to return my coffee because they got the syrup wrong,” she said, spinning around childishly on her chair. After a whole spin, she grabbed onto the desk to face Chloé. “And yes, he did buy it. I can't go back because I'm awkward and I don't have the receipt.”
“That's the excuse you're going with?” Chloé questioned. “You could've gone with him—you know, like a loving couple does.”
“Haha,” she said flatly.
“Fuck you,” Chloé snapped back, crossing her arms. “Where were you all weekend? You left me on read for fucking days.”
“I did not,” she denied. “I went to see my parents, that's all.”
Chloé scoffed. “And you couldn't click on a single text?”
“I was cleansing my life of negative energies,” she proclaimed.
Chloé raised her middle finger.
She blew a kiss.
Adrien walked in and had eyes for only her. He didn't acknowledge Chloé in the slightest as he came closer, pressing a kiss to Marinette's cheek as he passed over the new drink.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Adrien's smile reached his eyes. “You're welcome.”
Chloé scoffed and walked off.
He didn't look at her.
“You didn't have to do this,” she said, holding the takeaway cup with two hands.
“I want to,” Adrien answered, picking up his own cup that he'd left behind for his journey. “I like seeing you happy. Buying a coffee a day is a small price to pay.”
Marinette laughed. “You'd really go through all that trouble? We were waiting in the queue for so long.”
“I'll go before we meet up,” he decided, sitting down in his seat with a happy sigh. “That way, you can have something to warm your hands up.”
“It'll add up,” she pointed out.
“I'll buy you a reusable cup so it saves me a little bit each time,” he declared.
Marinette wrinkled her nose. “You'll have to pay that off as well.”
His smile was all teeth. “As long as you'll be beside me while I suffer in debt, it's fine.”
She laughed.
It occurred to her that she hadn't kissed him.
Adrien had kissed her cheek a few times—specifically at the office where they were in front of others—but he hadn't done that outside thus far. Their dates had only consisted of holding hands.
They hadn't hugged either.
That was odd.
It was more the fact that Adrien would text her hearts in most of his messages, smile at her whenever she caught his eye during the day, and somehow be satisfied with the relationship of children.
Marinette was embarrassed to think about it.
And so, she decided to show some more affection.
When Adrien met her outside of the office the next day—with matching cups that he'd bought for the both of them, keeping his promise of going into debt for her coffee—she was the one to kiss his cheek.
Adrien looked at her with wide eyes, speechless.
The cup was warm in her hands.
“You...” His voice sounded hoarse. “Marinette?”
“Yes?” she answered.
He swallowed audibly.
She tilted her head.
Adrien turned on the spot and started to walk inside.
She could see that the top of his ears were red.
“I'm going to the toilet,” Marinette announced, getting up from her desk.
Adrien kept typing but looked up with a smile. “Have fun.”
She touched his arm on her way past.
He tensed up from her touch.
It wasn't her first relationship.
Marinette had been with others before. However, Adrien was her longest relationship since she'd hit her late twenties; the others hadn't lasted more than a couple of weeks before she'd gotten bored.
Their relationship was slow, that was the best way to put it.
Marinette made a conscious choice to interact with him more. Adrien continued to tense and react with wide-eyed panic when she touched or kissed him.
His reaction was confusing.
He'd blush and smile, yet he pulled away.
She didn't know how to address that.
The blame couldn't be solely Adrien's shyness when she hadn't tried to show any affection for him until now.
Marinette decided to take another step forward.
She asked, “Can I come over to yours?”
His eyes widened into that same panicked expression as before, then it smoothed into a bright smile. “Really? You want to come over?”
“If you want me there,” she said, scuffing the heel of her shoe on the floor. “What do you think?”
“Yeah, I'd—I'd love that,” Adrien replied. “Would you like to come over for dinner? I want to cook for you.”
Marinette squinted. “Can you even cook?”
“I'm average,” he admitted. “I'll try hard for you, though. I want to make it memorable.”
“I mean, you could make it memorable in a different way,” she remarked.
He wetted his lips.
She beamed.
Adrien had given her his address.
To her surprise, he lived across the road from her. If she looked out of her bedroom window, she could see his home.
It hadn't been brought up before.
She wasn't friendly enough with the neighbours to hear the gossip of the street either. She had no idea when he had moved in—even more so when he said it used to belong to his parents and they'd sold it to him for cheap.
Marinette was baffled.
“Come in,” he urged, taking her coat off to hang it up on a peg.
His wooden floors were clean, the home smelled nice as soon as the door was opened, and Adrien was dressed in casual clothes with slippers on. She took off her shoes without being asked to.
Adrien kissed her cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
“You're welcome, neighbour,” she replied, looking around his hallway. “Seriously, when did you move in? I don't think I've ever seen you.”
“Last year?” he said.
She shrugged. “I don't remember.”
“Well, I've never seen you putting your bin out either,” Adrien pointed out. “Or leaving in the morning.”
“You get up before me,” she answered.
“Being a morning person isn't a flaw,” he said, taking her hand to lead her through into the next room.
The wall between the kitchen and living room had been knocked down to make it into one open large room. If it was the same as hers, the other room on the first floor was a toilet.
The table caught her attention.
There was a rose in a vase in the middle of the table along with candles. The cutlery was shiny and detailed, he had a fabric tablecloth set out, and there was soft music playing.
It looked like something out of a romcom.
Adrien lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. “Do you like it?”
“Your home?” she questioned. “It's okay. A bit weird that it's, like, the exact opposite of mine. Everything's on the other side.”
“Well, I do live on the other side from you,” he teased.
Marinette tapped the end of his nose. “What's for dinner?”
He smiled. “I made your favourite.”
“That... doesn't answer much,” she said.
“Sit down and I'll plate it up,” Adrien replied, leaning back to glance at the clock. “Yeah, I timed it right. We can eat it straight away.”
Obediently, she sat down at the end of the table where she would be able to see him working in the kitchen. Adrien smiled at her as he put an apron on and then focused on getting the food out of the oven.
He was right, it was her favourite.
After her first bite—where he hadn't touched his cutlery at all—Adrien asked softly, “Is it okay?”
She gave him a thumbs up.
“You like it?” he questioned, putting her elbows on the table to rest his chin in his hands, gazing at her. “Does that mean you'll come here again?”
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Marinette pointed out, “I don't need to be bribed with food to come over here. Now that I know we live so close, I could... come here to hang out.”
“Hang out,” he repeated.
She nodded.
His smile was as soft as his voice. “I'd like that.”
Adrien was nothing but kind and respectful for the whole evening. After dinner, they sat on the sofa and chatted before putting on a movie. Marinette had to be the one to move over and lean onto him to close the distance between them.
He didn't do anything more than hold her hand.
Then, since she lived so close, he walked her across the road to her home.
“It's nice,” Adrien complimented.
“It's the same as yours,” she muttered.
“I don't have the same plants or fence,” he said matter-of-factly. “And this... is yours. It's different.”
She wasn't convinced. “Sure.”
For a moment, they were on her porch without saying a word. Adrien was holding her hand, but he wasn't taking a step closer.
Marinette stepped forward, holding both of his hands in hers.
His lips twitched as he tried not to smile. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” she countered, staring at him expectantly.
“I'm feeling... very put on the spot.”
“We've been dating for a month,” Marinette announced.
He allowed himself to smile at that. “Yes, we have.”
“You haven't kissed me, Adrien,” she said softly.
He hesitated before he replied, “I don't want to scare you away.”
She was incredulous. “Excuse me?”
“Marinette, you're...” Adrien cradled her hands close to his chest. “You're so good. I don't want to mess this up because I've done something you dislike.”
That was supposed to be flattering, wasn't it?
“I'm not a child,” she replied wryly. “I kind of feel like you're not... attracted to me?”
He made a choked noise. “Excuse me?”
“I came over to your house and you did nothing.”
“I didn't want to expect anything!” Adrien exclaimed as he blushed. “I'm not—I don't want you to be scared of me.”
It was the second time he'd said that.
She almost laughed in his face.
“Why would I be scared?” Marinette questioned, letting of his hands to stand on her tiptoes and wrap her arms around his shoulders. The height difference made it a bit awkward when he wasn't leaning down to make it easier for her. “Adrien, I'm dating you. I signed up for all the extras.”
He swallowed.
She closed her eyes. “What if I do this?”
“I-I—” Adrien stuttered.
She waited patiently.
Then, his clammy hand softly touched her cheek, cradling her face as he leaned in close. She could feel his breath on her skin as their noses brushed before he gently put his lips to hers.
It was anti-climactic.
A soft and gentle brush before he pulled away, letting out a stuttered breath.
It didn't make her heart beat fast.
She opened her eyes. “Is that it?”
He was still blushing.
Adrien recoiled and removed his hand. While the blush was still present on his face, his lips weren't reddened from kissing her. It had been too pathetic to result in that.
For a man that had stared at her for months on end—admiring her from afar—he was terrible at decision-making. He hadn't been the one to confess to her first, after all; Marinette had to approach him to make anything happen at all.
Maybe that was the answer here as well.
“Adrien,” Marinette murmured, taking a step back while grasping his hand to keep him from moving away. “What if I invite you inside?”
He was wide-eyed.
“I—” His voice sounded strangled. “I don't understand.”
He was a gentleman through and through; Adrien treated her softly, he did all the little steps that she'd seen in romantic movies, but he was failing to make her heart race.
If they were sexually compatible, there would at least be one bonus for their relationship.
“Have sex with me,” she said.
It wasn't a question.
He gasped.
For good measure, she added, “Please.”
Adrien reached up and pinched his cheek.
She laughed. “Come on, really?”
“This can't be real,” he whispered.
“Well, it is,” she said, squeezing his hand. “What do you say? I'm not trying to, uh, pressure you? If you don't feel up to it yet, that's fine.”
“No, I—I want to!” Adrien exclaimed, as wide-eyed and innocent looking as ever when she pushed his boundaries. “I... I need to ask a weird question.”
She smiled. “Sure.”
“Can we go back to mine?” he asked.
Marinette sighed. “Oh, but it's so far...”
“Please,” he said.
“Okay, you've convinced me,” she announced, straightening up. “You're not going to carry me in the door or anything weird, are you?”
“That's for when we're married,” he murmured.
Marinette snorted.
Adrien tensed.
Unfortunately, they didn't have sex. Marinette managed to get her trousers off when they got into bed, but the underwear stayed on. Adrien kissed her deeply and gently, never pressing her down too hard on the mattress. He cradled her head to keep her supported, didn't let his hands wander underneath her shirt, and seemed to stiffen up whenever she touched him.
It was clear that he wasn't comfortable.
Marinette settled with kissing, then fell asleep beside him.
She was still awake when Adrien tucked the duvet in around her, brushing her hair away to kiss her forehead.
It was supposed to be sweet.
She thought it was boring.
He wouldn't kiss her in public.
Well, that wasn't true. Adrien would peck her lips before pulling away—like he did when he gave her her coffee in the morning—and that would be it. The most he would do was hold her hand.
Marinette ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Dump him,” Chloé said bluntly.
“I'm not—”
“Babe, do you even like him?” Chloé countered.
Marinette glared.
“You like the thought of him,” Chloé explained, putting a hand on Marinette's shoulder. It felt more suffocating than comforting. “I don't know what weird little dance you're doing with him, but, like... you care more about content coming out in your games.”
She slapped Chloé's hand away. “Shut up.”
“I don't get it,” Chloé mused, leaning back on the sofa. “What's the point of being with him if you don't actually like him?”
Marinette didn't know how to explain her thoughts.
There was so much that she wanted to say, but Chloé wasn't the person for that. She'd never found the right one.
She settled with saying, “He's safe.”
Chloé wrinkled her nose. “He uses protection?”
She slapped Chloé's arm. “I wouldn't know, you bitch!”
“Ah, that hurt!”
“Stop being so mean!” Marinette whined, taking a pillow into her lap to squeeze it tightly. It didn't let out any of her frustration. “Adrien's... he's the type of guy that everyone wants their parents to meet, you know? I've never dated anyone like that before.”
Chloé closed her eyes in exasperation. “Babe, you don't like him.”
“He's okay,” she said.
Chloé snorted.
“He is,” Marinette insisted. The words sounded ridiculous to her own ears. “He's... okay.”
“Okay,” Chloé repeated, bursting out into forced laughter. It was patronising. “He won't even touch you.”
“At least he's kissed me with tongue,” she grumbled.
Chloé scoffed. “Oh, what a feat that is. I could do that to you right now.”
“Maybe that's my secret plan, this is all to get you jealous,” Marinette said, judging Chloé with her pillow. “Is it working?”
“Oh, definitely,” Chloé replied flatly. “I want to jump you right now.”
She fanned her face. “You're saying the magic words.”
“Magic enough for you to go get me a glass of water?” Chloé asked.
“No.”
“Fuck you,” Chloé grumbled. “I'm a guest.”
“A guest that knows where everything is,” she pointed out. “You can help yourself, bitch. Your favourite glass is right at the front of the cupboard.”
Chloé got to her feet with an attitude, stomping out into the other room. “Do you treat Adrien like this?”
“He's never come over!” she shouted back.
Chloé poked her head back in the doorway. “And you say you like him? It took you months to invite me over.”
“I haven't known him for months,” she countered.
Chloé raised her eyebrows.
The first time Adrien's hands wandered beneath her underwear, they'd been dating for three months.
His fingers had barely brushed her when he whispered, “Is this okay for you?”
It was frustrating.
While she knew that he was looking out for her—as he always would—it was so slow that she almost pushed him away in irritation.
“Yes,” she lied.
He trailed kisses along her jaw before down her neck, pressing a finger cautiously into her.
It wasn't thrilling or exciting.
He didn't comment on how dry she was.
And after a minute passed of him fumbling around, there was no sense of arousal. Marinette felt stupid and uncomfortable.
She tapped his shoulders to push him away.
His voice was breathy. “Are you okay?”
“I feel sick,” she lied.
He took his hands away immediately. “Should I get you some water?”
“No, I'll... just go home,” she murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.
“Do you want some medicine before you go?” Adrien fussed. “Or food? I have those crackers you like downstairs—”
She shook her head. “I want my bed.”
“Okay,” he whispered. “I'll walk you home.”
He took her over to her porch, fretting that she'd catch a cold because she came over without a jacket. Marinette allowed him to put a hand to her forehead to check her temperature, looking at the worried expression on his face.
Adrien was attractive, she knew that.
He was kind, generous, and funny. It was easy to get along with him. And in the months they'd been dating, she knew that he was the stereotypical prince that appeared in many's fantasies.
He wasn't in hers, though.
Adrien didn't make her heart beat fast. His softness irritated her.
“Are you sure you're okay?” he questioned, holding her hand.
Marinette blurted, “I want to break up.”
He blinked.
She didn't look away.
“You... want to break up?” Adrien questioned, his expression twisting in disbelief. “Why?”
There was no point misleading him any further. She'd tried to be that girl for him—to be the one that could appreciate his romantic gestures—but it didn't come naturally to her.
Acting wasn't her forté.
She let go of his hand. “You're boring.”
Adrien inhaled sharply.
“Sorry,” she said insincerely, taking a step back. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“You're... breaking up with me,” he murmured, looking at her with wide eyes.
“Sorry,” she repeated.
He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, letting out a laugh.
It was an odd reaction.
Marinette got her keys out. “I'll see you at work on Monday.”
He kept laughing, though the sound was muffled by his hand.
She left him to it.
Their relationship was a clean break.
Since she'd broken up with him on her doorstep, she hadn't heard a word from him—no texts, calls, nor did he appear on her door to demand for answers. For living so close, she never saw him.
She wasn't upset.
Chloé laughed when she told her what had happened.
Marinette argued that she'd been leading Adrien on long enough and needed to let it down gently.
“That was anything but gentle,” Chloé remarked.
Marinette disagreed.
At work, Adrien avoided eye contact with her. The office seemed stifling when they were sitting side-by-side at their desks. When it came to tasks, he communicated with her robotically, not even showing her his perfectly polite smile that everyone else good.
It was easy to see that he was upset with her.
The gossip at the office reignited.
“You two were so perfect together,” one said with a sigh. “You could've been so good.”
Marinette held her tongue.
However, Chloé didn't.
“Why don't you go for him, then?” Chloé questioned, leaning on Marinette's shoulder. “You're already slobbering all over his dick.”
She elbowed Chloé discreetly. “Shut up.”
With an offended gasp, their co-worker walked off.
“What? You gonna just let them talk shit?” Chloé asked in disgust.
“Do you want me to snap back at everyone's comments?” she countered, shoving Chloé away. “It's—it's just gossip. It'll pass then whoever breaks up next will be all anyone wants to talk about.”
“Adrien looks like a kicked puppy,” Chloé pointed out. “It's hard to forget when he's moping all over the place.”
“He'll get over it, too,” Marinette said. “It's not like we were serious.”
Chloé whistled. “Harsh.”
“What? It's true.”
“Maybe to you, but he was all over you, Mari,” Chloé replied, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “You're a bit of an idiot, you know.”
“You don't even like him,” she grumbled.
“I'll make a support group for him and all your other exes,” Chloé mused. “They can comfort each other and cry about how beautiful you are.”
She stuck her middle finger up.
Chloé blew her a kiss.
Marinette's heart was racing as she opened up the lid to her bin outside. It was collection day the following morning, so she'd put them out earlier.
Her name was called. “Marinette?”
She whipped her head to the side, wide-eyed as she saw Adrien across the street.
He had a watering can in his hands.
It had only been a week since their breakup and he had never approached her outside of work. He'd arrived earlier than her everyday so she wouldn't bump into him out front, and he left without a glance her way afterwards.
And yet, he was addressing her first.
“Are you... watering your plants?” she questioned incredulously. “At this time at night?”
The watering can kept pouring on that one spot while his attention was all on her. “You have blood on you.”
She looked down.
Where her dressing gown didn't cover underneath her knees, there was blood.
“Haha,” she said. “That's my period.”
“Oh.”
She turned on the spot and ran back inside.
Adrien wouldn't meet her eyes.
It wasn't anything new but after the other night, she'd expected him to make a comment on it.
He did no such thing.
In a few days, it will be fine. Marinette had to adjust to Adrien's sudden change in attitude—after all, she had broken his heart. He wouldn't look at her longingly any more.
He wouldn't be staring at her at the office either.
It was fine.
This was what she wanted.
She supported the man's weight with his arm thrown over her shoulder, struggling to walk forward.
“You're so fucking heavy,” she complained, almost tripping on her front step.
By the time she put him down, her breathing was heavy. Marinette undid the top button of her shirt, admiring the sight in front of her.
The room was set up perfectly. She'd been preparing for this all day, but when it came down to it, she felt giddy and excited.
As she was about to change out of her clothes, there was a knock at the door.
And another.
It didn't stop.
She ran downstairs, unbolting the door to stick her head out. “Yes?”
Adrien was on her doorstep.
His hair was a mess, he was dressed in pyjamas, and he still had his slippers on.
She was about to shut the door in his face when he put his hand on it, using his weight to shove it open. It surprised her enough that he was able to stop her.
“Am I not good enough for you?” Adrien demanded, rushing to get the words out. “Is this—is this what you're into?”
She was bewildered.
For once, the height difference between them could've been intimidating.
“If you told me, I would've let you dress like this,” he said, gesturing wildly to her. There was a look in his eyes that she'd never seen before. “Anything for you. God, Marinette, you would be stunning in anything. If you want to roleplay as a student, I'd be fine.”
It was so much all at once that she didn't know how to respond.
She couldn't deny it, not when she really was dressed in a school uniform.
“I've never seen you in pigtails,” Adrien murmured, taking a step forward. He was inside her house now. “Why did you never wear them with me? Why—why with him?”
Marinette took a step away.
He copied her movements, lurching closer.
“Adrien?” she questioned.
“Say my name again,” he whispered.
She swallowed as her back hit the closed door into her kitchen. “Adrien.”
His hand went on the door beside her head, trapping her in. His smile was wide and more manic than she'd ever seen it before.
This wasn't the charming smile that had their co-workers gushing about.
“Marinette, was I not what you wanted?” he whispered, staring directly into her eyes. “I followed your desires to a T.”
“You... what?” she questioned.
“You said you wanted someone to treasure you and treat you like a princess,” Adrien murmured, using his free hand to touch her chin, lifting her head up so their noses were almost touching. “I did what you wanted.”
It didn't make any sense.
“What are you talking about?” she whispered. “I've never—”
“You did,” he insisted. “You wanted a novel romance and I gave it to you.”
She was aware of her breathing.
With his hand on her neck, Adrien leaned in and sniffed. “Have you got perfume on?”
“No,” she denied.
“You smell different,” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Did you shower at his?”
It was absurd. “No.”
“Who is he?” Adrien demanded.
Marinette furrowed her brow. “Are you... jealous?”
“Jealous?” he repeated with a laugh. “Marinette, I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest from jealousy right now.”
He wasn't threatening.
Adrien was looming over her, he had her trapped against the door, and his hand was holding onto her neck, but none of it was malicious. He would've tightened his hold or shoved her back if he wanted to resort to violence.
This was more emotion than he'd shown their entire relationship.
“Why?” she wondered.
“I love you,” Adrien whispered, leaning in so his lips were almost against her neck. It hid his expression. “I love you so much and you—you don't want me. What am I supposed to do about this?”
She reached up to touch the hand on her throat. “What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” he countered, pulling back so she could see his face again. There was an angry line to his eyebrows and his scowl marred his handsome features. “Do you move on that easily? I gave you everything you wanted.”
Marinette laughed. “Everything?”
Adrien's expression was angry. “I love you.”
“I don't love you,” she countered, taking him by surprise by shoving him back.
He stumbled before regaining his balance. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“Why is he up there and I'm down here?” Adrien asked, raising his voice so it echoed in the hallway. “Why isn't that me?”
She tilted her head.
His hand was clenched into a fist at his side.
It was intriguing.
Adrien had always been so calm and cool-headed, but now he was throwing a tantrum because she'd brought another man into her home. He must've seen her through the window and came charging over, demanding answers.
He hadn't cared until someone else had come into the picture.
“Why should it be you?” Marinette countered, twirling one of her pigtails around her finger. “I don't owe you anything, Adrien. Just because you couldn't get in my pants doesn't mean that no one else can.”
“That's not—I don't think that!” he stressed, aggressively brushing his hair out of his face. “I was trying to be perfect for you!”
She shrugged. “Tough luck.”
“What do I need to do to get you to like me?” Adrien pleaded, placing a hand on his chest. “I can change. I can be anything—is it my looks? Do I dress weirdly?”
He was so pathetic.
Desperately begging for her love, his voice cracking with every other word, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny. It wasn't a look that any other man had had for her before.
“I can change,” he whispered. “You like men who are respectful, don't you? I can be that for you. I can hold open doors for you, give you flowers—”
“But you did that,” Marinette said.
Adrien looked stricken. “Then, what do you want?”
This wasn't the perfect man that looked at her adoringly; now, Adrien was desperate and close to falling to his knees.
Her smile was genuine. “I don't want you.”
“I can be enough for you,” Adrien announced, looking her in the eyes as he got closer. Unlike the last time, she didn't back away from him. “I hate when I see you talking and having fun with others. I'm—I can be yours. I can be whatever you need me to be. You don't need anyone else.”
“You weren't enough before, so why would you be now?” she questioned.
He touched her cheek. “You can do whatever you like and I'll be there.”
She stared.
“I want to be with you forever,” he murmured, leaning in to smell her hair. “I don't want anyone else to touch you. You can—you can dress however you like. You can do anything to me and I'll accept it as long as you look at me.”
Marinette questioned, “Do you think I broke up with you because you're too vanilla?”
Adrien trailed his thumb over her lower lip. “If I knew this is what would happen, I would've never let you leave my home.”
She didn't get a chance to reply.
Adrien kissed her.
It wasn't the sweet kisses that he'd given her before.
Marinette stiffened, unresponsive to his advances at first. He wasn't discouraged because of her reaction; rather, he held her close, pressing their chests together as he gripped the back of her head, kissing her deeply.
He slipped his tongue in.
It was harsh, filled with feelings that he'd never shown before, and Marinette was left breathless.
Adrien's voice was breathy. “I was so kind to you.”
She didn't know what to say.
“I think about you everyday,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her ear before he bit the top of it. “I thought it was too good to be true—that you'd be in love with me, too. I tried so hard to be good to you.”
There was a pulse between her legs.
“I love you, Marinette,” he whispered, biting her earlobe before he went lower to her neck. It made her squirm when he licked and then breathed on one area. “And you—you don't even care about me. How could you bring him home like I was nothing?”
For a week, Adrien had been calmly ignoring her since the break up.
This was completely different.
His hand went underneath her sweater and shirt, touching her stomach. “Did you let him touch you?”
His touch was warm.
“Did you smile at him like you do to me?” Adrien questioned.
“Adrien—”
“This is your fault,” he said, taking his hand out from her sweater to instead lift up her skirt. When she didn't put up any type of resistance, he put his palm to her underwear.
She shuddered.
He purposely rubbed over her clit. “Did he touch you here?”
She didn't respond.
“Tell me,” Adrien breathed. “I'll forgive you if you're honest.”
His actions didn't wait for her answer. Adrien pulled her underwear down, touching her wetness before he immediately slipped a finger inside of her.
Marinette gasped.
With his palm rubbing against her clit, he thrust his finger, biting down on her neck. “Tell me.”
“No,” she stuttered out.
With another finger added, he thrust them into her sharply, sucking harshly on her neck. Marinette moaned at the sensation when the stimulation to her clit was added, feeling the building heat in her stomach. There was the added noise of the squelching from her wetness and her breaths sounded loud in the hallway.
She realised belatedly that he had left the front door open.
“Is he waiting for you?” Adrien asked with a bite.
“The door,” Marinette gasped.
“Are you going to spread your legs for him as well?” he asked bitterly, pointedly making her moan by touching her clit with his thumb. “When you're this wet because of me?”
She was so turned on. “The front door is open.”
“What if I fuck you against it?” Adrien murmured, gripping her hair harshly. “He'll have to walk through it later without knowing what we did.”
Marinette's legs felt weak.
He didn't stop.
Adrien kissed her to stop any more of her complaints, letting go of her hair to try and support her weight by holding her. Her hands were on his chest, almost falling on him from how her legs shook as her orgasm grew closer.
Marinette moaned.
“Again,” he whispered against her lips. “Please, I want—I want to hear it again. Please.”
And when she came, he kissed her through it.
Adrien's hand paused when she convulsed around him, her moans swallowed by his lips, and if it wasn't for his grip, she would've fallen to her knees.
“You're so perfect,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “How are you so perfect? You feel so good around me. I can't wait to fuck you.”
Marinette felt fuzzy and warm.
Adrien removed his hand slowly, still pressing kisses along her jawline. He held her close, wrapping his arms around her middle so they were pressed together.
His erection was very obvious.
She was still very turned on.
If he'd been a bit more aggressive before—
There was a creak from upstairs.
Adrien's hold on her tightened.
Marinette wasn't worried.
“He must've heard you,” Adrien said quietly, running his nose along her jaw before he took another sniff of her hair. “There's no way he couldn't hear your moans—I know I'll never be able to forget them.”
Okay, maybe she was a bit worried.
“You should go,” she suggested.
Adrien let out a laugh. “No fucking way.”
“You don't think we're back together, do you?” Marinette questioned, trying to push him away. He refused to move an inch. “I let you finger me out of pity, that was all.”
His smile was all teeth. “What else will you let me do?”
“Leave,” she said flatly.
Adrien tilted his head and looked at her from head to toe—well, from head to chest since that was all he could see.
“And leave you like this with someone else?” he replied.
She bristled. “It's none of your business—”
Unfortunately, it was neither of them that spoke next.
It was the man she'd brought home falling down the stairs, moaning in pain at the bottom.
Adrien reacted first.
“Oh, my god!” he exclaimed, pulling away from her in panic. He rushed forward, dropping down to his knees to try and inspect the man's condition. “Are you okay? Marinette, call an ambulance!”
She closed the front door and locked it, pocketing the key.
The man moaned.
“Can you hear me?” Adrien questioned frantically. “Oh, god, he's bleeding. There's blood, Marinette—”
Marinette said, “I left my phone upstairs.”
“I think I have mine?” he said, checking his pockets with shaky hands. And when they came out empty, he was pale-faced and looking sick. “It's not here. You need—you need to get yours.”
There weren't a lot of options for her.
Marinette kneeled down beside him, taking his hand away from the man's pulse at his throat.
“Would you get me a tea towel from the kitchen?” she questioned. “Anything to stop the bleeding.”
He couldn't look away from all the blood. “Your phone—”
“I'll get it as soon as you get the towel,” she said.
Adrien got up on wobbly knees, using the wall to support himself.
Marinette considered her next move as the man let out another pained noise. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, unable to give a reaction when she made eye contact with him.
Blood was trailing down from the last step onto her floorboards.
This wasn't the night that she'd had planned.
“I grabbed as many as I could,” Adrien said, kneeling back down beside her with all the floral tea towels from her kitchen. They were pastel-coloured and would be stained after this. “Should I—do I just put them behind his head?”
Adrien would tell the paramedics what he'd seen.
He wouldn't leave.
Unfortunately, her wet underwear was uncomfortable now that her legs were soaked in blood.
“Adrien,” she said. “I did like you, you know.”
He snapped his head up. “Huh?”
“You were cute in a pathetic way,” she said, touching her sleeve. “Well, before tonight? I didn't know you had it in you.”
His brow furrowed. “What are you...”
“I'm scared,” Marinette admitted, looking at him with wide eyes. “Would you—would you hold me?”
He was caught off-guard. “Marinette—”
“Please,” she whispered.
As requested, Adrien pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly as he looked away from the growing puddle of blood beside them. His heart was beating fast.
She pushed up her sleeve.
He let out a stuttered breath.
Then, she stabbed him in the side.
Adrien choked on his breath and then recoiled, scrambling away from her.
Marinette let him.
He was wide-eyed. “What—”
She smiled. “Did that hurt?”
Touching his side, he saw the knife sticking out and reacted in horror. He sat down on the floor with blood starting to seep out slowly, most of it kept inside since she hadn't moved the knife too much. The incision shouldn't have been very big since it was only a small knife.
It was small enough to fit the strap on her arm.
“You stabbed me,” he breathed.
She spun around, sitting on the last blood-soaked step. “You're the one that didn't want to leave.”
He tried to sit up straighter, wincing in pain. “What—”
“It's okay, I have a backup,” she said, collecting a knife from her other sleeve. “They were a set.”
He looked at her with wide eyes.
It was an expression that made her heart race.
She spun the knife around in her fingers. “Cool, right? I practised this for years.”
“You're...” Adrien trailed off, pressing his mouth shut.
“FYI, the front door's locked and you won't get out through the kitchen,” Marinette told him matter-of-factly. “I also took the keys out of the windows, so unless you smash one...”
He swallowed. “Are you going to kill me?”
She shrugged.
Adrien let out a breath at first, then it turned into laughter. It wasn't the light-hearted sound that usually came from him. He laughed and clutched at his side, careful not to jostle the knife that was in his side.
With her elbow on her knee, Marinette rested her chin in her hand, observing him.
He was smiling.
She tilted her head.
“Is this why you didn't want to be with me?” he questioned, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. “Because you—you couldn't be yourself?”
“Is that important right now?” she questioned, drawing attention to her hand that was still holding onto the knife. “I've already hurt you. Do you think I'll stop because you confess your love to me?”
“Has it happened before?” Adrien asked, looking at her instead of the knife. “Do you—is that how you lure people in? You act coy and lead them on?”
“Eh, it depends,” she replied, scooting over to the side of the step so Adrien would have a clear view of the crumpled man behind her. “Does it make you jealous?”
“Yes.”
She laughed. “You have a knife in you and you're jealous?”
“Marinette, if it's you, you can kill me,” he breathed.
She scoffed. “I told you, sweet words won't work.”
“Am I screaming for help?” Adrien questioned, smiling widely before he winced in pain. “I don't care. I want to be with you. If this is how, then—then, I'm happy. This is fine.”
It wasn't the first time that someone had had that reaction. Adrien wouldn't be the last either.
Marinette deadpanned, “You're fine with me being a murderer.”
“I've never seen this side to you,” he remarked, raising his hand—the one that wasn't bloodied and clutching his stabbed side—to cover his mouth, unable to hide his smile. “You're—you're so beautiful.”
It grew irritating quickly.
Adrien had always been charming and gentle. This was the least appropriate time for him to turn back into his weak personality.
She turned and stabbed the dying man behind her in the heart, using both hands to thrust the tiny knife in. Since it was small the cut was too shallow to do enough damage, so she repeated the action until she was breathing heavily with blood splattered over her.
Her heartbeat was racing.
The man wasn't moving any more.
She wiped her hand on her skirt, but it couldn't get rid of all the blood. Her legs were soaked by then, and her floorboards would need a lot of care and attention to get them spotless again.
Adrien's chest was rising and falling quickly.
She yanked the knife out of the man.
Adrien didn't tear his eyes away from her. His mouth was open without any words escaping and there was a flush to his cheeks.
She got up to her feet.
He didn't back away as she walked closer.
And as she stood before him, Adrien swallowed.
“You don't know how long I've been looking at you,” he whispered, looking at her with a hard-to-decipher expression. It was a feat that he wasn't pale or shaking as he had been earlier. “I've—I've always been looking at you.”
Was it his last grand speech?
He wasn't trying to run, so maybe he had a plan up his sleeve. It was true that he was taller and more physically fit, yet she was positive she could get the upper hand since stabbing his side earlier. Adrien could scramble to try and find the key to escape, but she'd finish him before that.
“I know everything—I thought I knew everything,” he breathed.
“Surprise,” she said flatly, looking down at him.
Adrien staggered up to his feet, almost losing his balance at first. He didn't raise his fists to prepare for a fight, though; he slowly reached out for her hand that wasn't holding the knife before putting it to his chest, right over his heart.
“If it's you, you can do it,” Adrien told her, keeping her hand there. “You can hit me, stab me—anything, as long as it's you. You can use as much strength as you'd like.”
“Is this reverse psychology?” she questioned.
“If I can be with you, it's enough,” he replied, smile reaching his eyes. The expression was breathtaking when paired with his flushed cheeks. It was the wrong situation for him to look so happy. “Of all the things I imagined, I never thought...”
Marinette could feel his heartbeat.
“Did you kiss him?” Adrien demanded.
She frowned. “You're still on about that?”
“Is he—did you date him, too?” he asked, trembling beneath her touch. “That—he was all over you. I saw him.”
Was he so infatuated with her that that was what he wanted to know before his last breaths?
“Adrien, I drugged him and brought him back to kill him,” she informed him. “Does that make you feel better?”
He sighed, leaning against her to rest his head on her shoulder.
Marinette was bewildered.
“You're only mine, right?” he whispered, voice muffled by her clothing. “You're—you wouldn't look at anyone else like you did with me. You're not the type. I know you. You're loyal and you—you keep your word.”
This wasn't the right reaction.
His heart was beneath her hand, he had her knife in his side, and yet he slipped his arms around her waist, holding her close.
If he was thinking of seducing her to try and save himself, he was going about it the wrong way.
“If you hurt me, is that enough for you?” Adrien questioned. And before waiting for an answer, he rambled on, “I want to be everything to you—I don't want to be another nobody that you bury and forget about. You wouldn't dump me the same place as him, would you?”
“Are you asking me to scatter your ashes?” she asked wryly.
Adrien raised his head to glumly questioned, “Do you hate me?”
“I stabbed you,” she reminded him.
“There's no one else that I like more than you,” he replied, crowding her space so they were almost chest-to-chest. And when she didn't make any move to push him away, Adrien continued, “I know that I'm... not what you want, but I really love you.”
She sighed.
“I was so kind to you,” he whispered, putting a hand on her cheek. “I didn't approach you too soon because I didn't want to scare you away. I got a job at the same office, I moved across from you and you—you never noticed me.”
Marinette blinked.
“I need you,” he breathed, leaning in to brush her nose with his. “I don't care if you hate me.”
It didn't make any sense—
And then, he was kissing her again. It wasn't the soft pecks from before either; like back when he'd barged into her home, Adrien gripped her hair tightly, kissing her harshly to get across all of the emotions that he couldn't put into words.
Her grip tightened on her knife.
He didn't stop kissing her.
With a sweep of his tongue across her lower lip, he kissed her deeply.
Her heart was racing.
And from where her hand was still on his chest, she could feel that his was doing the same.
He'd seen her kill a man and yet, his erection was pressing against her.
“I love you,” he whispered, rolling his hips, not trying to keep his arousal a secret. “Without you, I—I won't be able to live. I need you, Marinette.”
It was becoming clear that he wasn't acting very quickly. Adrien's reaction to blood earlier had been so very different—he'd been pale and shaking, but now he was kissing along her jaw to her ear and breathing heavily.
Her underwear was wet.
“How could you let that guy touch you?” he questioned, lifting her free hand up to his lips, kissing it despite the blood covering her skin. “You're too perfect to be soiled by him. I should've been there to help you—to stop you from dirtying yourself by touching him.”
Marinette swallowed.
“I love you.” He bit her finger. “Let me be with you.”
“How long have you liked me?” she asked.
“I've followed you for years,” Adrien confessed with a bright smile, nuzzling against her hand. Blood smeared on his cheek from it. “I've—I've seen you through it all. I saw you go through friends, lovers... I've been there for the bad haircuts.”
Marinette wetted her lips. “Yeah?”
His smile showed his dimples. “I've always, always, always looked at you.”
And why was that attractive?
It was supposed to be horrifying. The knowledge that a man she didn't know had watched her for so long was the stuff of people's nightmares. And for him to admit that while pressing his erection against her?
Why was it thrilling?
“I was happy to look from afar,” he murmured, meeting her gaze. “You're the one that approached me first. You smiled at me, you spoke to me—”
Marinette was fascinated. “You stalked me?”
Adrien beamed. “I have pictures.”
Why did that make her heart skip a beat?
He'd been notoriously bad at that before. Adrien hadn't made her heart flutter, hadn't made her palms sweaty from nerves, and she'd rarely been wet around him before today.
“You held my hand, you asked me to kiss you—I never forced myself on you,” he said, kissing her palm. “I thought you were interested in me. But you... don't like me.”
She almost said that she liked him right now.
Adrien's gaze was heavy. “What did I do wrong?”
She inhaled sharply.
“Am I still boring?” he questioned softly, nuzzling against her hand. There wasn't a hint of fear in his expression. “Do I not excite you? I could feel you earlier, you were so—”
“Did your parents really own your home before you?” Marinette blurted.
“No, don't be silly,” Adrien replied without hesitation, smiling widely. “They're dead.”
It was exciting.
“You bought it for me?” she asked.
His voice was low. “I can see your window.”
Marinette laughed.
And throughout her laughter, Adrien was gazing at her in total adoration. There wasn't a hint of disgust or terror anywhere on his expression—if anything, this was the happiest she'd ever seen him.
“Is this... pleasing you?” Adrien wondered aloud.
“How did I not realise you're a creep?” she questioned.
“I don't know,” he replied without taking any offence. “I'm not a very good actor.”
“Is this why you were so... weird about me?” Marinette asked, adjusting her hold on his cheek on her own. He leaned into her touch, smiling sweetly. “Why you never touched me?”
Adrien confessed, “I didn't want to scare you.”
“Am I scaring you?” she asked.
He didn't avert his eyes. “No.”
“I killed a man,” she said.
“Yes,” he confirmed, smiling so much that his eyes were almost closed. “And I've been stalking you for close to ten years.”
Marinette swallowed. “I'll kill again.”
“Can I watch?” Adrien questioned. And before she could even think of how to reply to that, he kissed her hand. “Your expression was so—I've never seen you look so alive. I've seen you cradle spiders and gently put them out the window, but this was different.”
She looked at him with wide eyes. “You... want to see me kill someone.”
“Or you can kill me,” he replied, lifting up her hand that was holding the knife to press the blade into his neck. It wasn't hard enough to pierce the skin. “I want you to touch me. It doesn't matter what your intentions are as long as I'm with you.”
While others had dared her to kill them, Adrien wasn't shaking in fear. His gaze was confident, his tone was soft and full of affection, and he was still aroused.
Marinette's pulse was present between her legs.
It was the same situation she'd been in before, but different because it was working. Adrien's words were enticing, his presence was more exciting than it had ever been, and the thought of him doing so much to pursue her without approaching her first was thrilling.
He wanted her in a horrifying way.
And she—
She liked it.
“I can kill you?” she breathed.
Adrien didn't flinch. “Yes.”
There was a knife in his side and a dead body behind her, yet he looked excited.
“There's nobody else like you,” Marinette remarked.
“Is that a compliment?” he questioned.
She dropped the knife.
Adrien didn't turn his head to see where it went, nor did he rush away from her. He stayed in the same spot, cheek against her hand.
With a smile, he asked, “Do you have another one?”
“Why don't you find out?” Marinette suggested, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Adrien kissed her.
And when she returned it greedily, pulling him closer, he hissed in pain when she jostled the knife in him.
“Oh, my bad,” she said.
“More kissing will help me forget about it,” Adrien mumbled.
“We can't have sex if you keep that in,” she mused, taking a step away to inspect the damage. His shirt was soaked and the blood had trailed down to his trousers, almost making it all the way to the floor.
His breathing was laboured. “Can you take it out?”
“No,” she denied.
“Huh?”
“What if I make it worse?” Marinette questioned, kneeling to try and get a better view without lifting his shirt.
“You're the one that put it in there,” Adrien stuttered. “Can't you just—I don't know, yank it and slap a bandage on it?”
“I don't think I hit anything important,” she mused. “You would've been, like, passed out by now if I had.”
“You think,” he repeated.
She shrugged.
“Where's your first-aid kit?” Adrien questioned, using the wall to support himself. “I feel... light-headed.”
“Most of your blood is in your dick, I think,” she quipped.
He laughed. “It always is when you're around.”
“I'll consult my doctor and see what we can do,” Marinette decided, pushing up her sleeves.
His eyes were trained on the arm straps that had no more knives in them. “You have a doctor?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Google.”
He threw his head back and laughed.