When Marinette is born, she has a spotless ladybug on her arm. Strange? In all ways.

But maybe fate has funny ways of finding your soulmate.


Marinette is fourteen when she kisses someone for the first time. Chat Noir is her partner and she trusts him with her life.

They're just friends. Right?

She kisses him and breaks the spell upon him, and they defeat and cleanse the akuma. She leaves first, the taste of him on her lips and the memory of what she has done.

She feels guilty not telling him, but that guilt sprouts into shock when she detransforms and looks at her soulmate mark.

It has one spot.


Marinette is fifteen the next time she kisses someone, and it's not Chat Noir. It's not Adrien either.

She kisses Luka by the Seine, the wind streaming through her hair and her fingers threading threading through his. Luka's hair is slightly crunchy, as if he styles it with hair product, and his lips taste like peaches.

She's not too fond of peaches.

It doesn't feel right. She doesn't love Luka. And yet, when she glances at her arm again, there's another spot on her soulmate mark.

It's terribly confusing, but she doesn't see a pair of luminous green eyes staring at her from a short distance away, nor does she see the way his fists clench as Luka goes in for another kiss, and she hesitates a split second before her lips brush his.

It's just not right, but neither of them stop it.


Marinette is sixteen when she and Chat Noir start meeting on her balcony in secret.

It doesn't take her long to realize that she and Chat Noir are a recipe for disaster.

"I just...don't know how to tell her that I love her," he confesses about Ladybug one night. She's sprawled out on her lounger, her needles clacking together as she knits, while he's sitting criss-cross on the ground, staring pensively at the bright, full moon.

"Tell who?" she asks.

"Ladybug," he clarifies, and Marinette nearly falls off her chair. "She's just so amazing and beautiful and kind and selfless and...I'm just me."

Now, Marinette is no love expert, having liked Adrien for years and not doing anything about it besides tripping over air and her words. But she knows for sure how Ladybug feels about Chat Noir.

"Chat," she begins lightly, pausing her knitting, "what does Ladybug think of you?"

Chat stares at her as if she's told him the moon is made of cheese. "Sorry?"

"What does Ladybug think of you?"

"Well, er…" He's at a loss for words. Marinette pounces.

"Have you seen the way she looks at you?" she answers her own question, heat spilling into her voice. "She looks at you like you're her world. I know for a fact that she would die for you. She would throw herself in harm's way if it meant you were safe. You're her best friend and she would do anything for you."

Chat looks like he's gone to heaven and back. "She...she really feels that way about me?"

"Of course. Everyone in Paris knows that." She, of course, knows those words are authentic, because they're coming from Ladybug herself. But Chat doesn't need to know that.

Chat's face lights up. "Thank you, Marinette," he tells her sincerely.

Marinette merely smiles and continues with her knitting. She peeks out of the corner of her eye discreetly and sees another spot blossom on her arm.


"My Lady, I need to tell you something."

Marinette's seventeen when Chat Noir finally plucks up the courage to confess. And she's come prepared with an answer, an answer that required a lot of thought and deliberation concerning the desires of her heart. And then, she'd arrived at a decision.

"I need to tell you something too," she says, a bit breathless. "You go first."

"I love you," he declares without preamble, his voice steady and assured. "I love you, my Lady, and everything about you, and I understand if you don't feel the same, but I thought—"

She cuts him off. "I can't believe this," she says between peals of laughter. "I cannot believe this."

His ears droop, thinking she's about to stomp all over his heart and fling it into the Seine. "I'm sorry, I'll just go." He turns around and stalks away.

"Wait!" she calls, stifling her laughter. "Where are you going? I haven't made my confession yet."

His boots grate on the metal as he wheels around. Ladybug's heart aches—her kitty's face looks so heartbroken. "Go ahead," he says forlornly.

She takes a deep breath, letting the anticipation torture him for a few more moments before she says anything.

"I was going to say that I love you in the most romantic, sappy way possible, but you beat me to the punch," she says, pouring her heart into every syllable. "So I guess I'll just have to stick with 'I love you too.'"

She can hear his breath hitch, even though they're practically on opposite sides of the Eiffel Tower. "You do?" The wind carries his voice to her ears and she smiles.

"Yes," she answers confidently, her voice unwavering. "I do. And I'm willing to give us a try." She gestures at him. "That is, if you'll have me."

He closes the gap between them in a few long strides. Her senses are swamped by him, the scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating off his body, his smoldering green eyes.

"If I'll have you?" His gloved hands slide onto her hips like they're meant to be there. Now this feels right.

"My Lady, you've had me since the beginning. It's only fair that I return the favor."

His body is drawing closer, her head is spinning from the sheer amount of UST between them. If he doesn't kiss her now, she swears on her Miraculous—

— his lips crash against hers, and simultaneous sighs escape their mouths. Finally, she thinks.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng is seventeen when she kisses her partner for the second time, and she knows for sure it's not the last time.

She barely feels the tingling on her arm as another spot is added.


They're sitting atop their favorite rooftop, the one that overlooks the Seine. Ladybug is curled up in Chat Noir's arms, his chin resting on her head. Occasionally, she turns her head and kisses him. Sometimes, it's just a peck. The other times, it turns into something more and they have to stop before it goes too far. They're at the beginning stages of their relationship, so they have to set some boundaries, no matter how much they want to kiss each other silly.

"Can I confess something to you, Bug?" he asks.

"Of course."

"Did you like...someone else?" he queries, his voice soft and emotionless. "Before we happened?"

Ladybug stiffens as panic seizes her joints. Sure, she's in a relationship with Chat Noir, and she doesn't like Adrien anymore, but it's still painful to be reminded.

"I—I did," she admits. "He had my heart before it became yours. I loved him, but he didn't see me." She looks at the ground, the memory tugging at her heartstrings.

"Well that's ridiculous," he scoffs and she jumps. "Who is blind enough to not see the beautiful, kind, smart girl standing right in front of him? Who?"

She wars with her mind on whether or not to tell him who it is.

"Well?" he presses.

Her head turns and she kisses him chastely. "Promise you won't go after him," she murmurs.

He nods.

"It's—it's Adrien Agreste," she says. "And before you start criticizing him, he didn't notice me because I was a bumbling idiot around him. I stumbled over my words, could never say a single sentence without messing something up—he probably thought I was a first-class klutz."

Chat Noir suddenly stills and his arms slacken. "How—how do you know him?" he croaks.

"We met in collège," she says. "I falsely accused him of putting gum on my seat, when really, it was Chloe and Sabrina's doing. But being the sweet boy that he was, he apologized anyway and gave me his umbrella."

"O—Oh," he responds shakily. Ladybug frowns.

"Is something wrong?" she asks worriedly.

"I—I have to go," he announces, pushing her unceremoniously off his lap.

Her frown deepens and she raises her eyebrows. "Wait, what's wrong—?"

But he's already out of earshot, a black blur bouncing on the rooftops.


Adrien approaches her the next morning, looking nervous.

"Hey, Mari," he says, avoiding her eyes and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I need to talk you."

Marinette exchanges a look with Alya, who is looking as puzzled as she feels. "Sure," she says uncertainly and follows him out of the classroom.

"Hey, what's up?" she asks, her eyebrow lifted. "Are you okay?"

He takes a deep breath. "Marinette, I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly," he says, an uncharacteristic seriousness coloring his voice. "Please."

"O—Okay." Marinette's stomach rolls.

"Are you Ladybug?" he asks bluntly.

Marinette's heart plummets. "Wh—What?"

How does he know?

"Are you Ladybug?" he repeats softly, his eyes boring holes into hers. He sounds desperate, hopeful, a mixture of the two.

She can feel Tikki vibrating in her purse and risks a glance downward. Her kwami's big blue eyes look up at her, imploring. Tell him. He knows.

She doesn't know if Tikki is pyschic, but she trusts her kwami; she has never led her astray.

Marinette inhales sharply. "Yes," she says quietly, unmoving. "Yes, I'm Ladybug."

She expects him to start yelling at her, accusing her of hiding things from him. She expects a verbal slap to the face, an argument that will rock the world to its core.

What she doesn't expect is for Adrien to hug her, wrapping her in a strong embrace and nearly knocking the wind out of her.

"I'm so relieved," he whispers. And then, he utters the two words that sends her reeling: "My Lady."

She pulls away, disbelief coursing through her. "What the—Chaton?"

"It's me, Bug," he says proudly and Marinette is panicking internally like oh my god that's my boyfriend Adrien is Chat Noir and my boyfriend oh my god

"Oh my god," she blurts out. "Oh my god."

And she kisses him stupid right then and there, and everyone is befuddled when they walk into class thirty minutes late, red-faced and holding hands, but Marinette is on top of the world and she couldn't care less about the looks her classmates are giving them. Alya almost has a hernia.

"Girl," she hisses when Marinette sits down next to her. "Explain."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Marinette replies innocently.

Alya groans. "You," she jabs a finger at Marinette, "and him," she points at Adrien "had better explain come lunch."

Marinette knows she's in for a grilling of a lifetime, but honestly, she doesn't care. "Of course," she responds. "I'll give you all the juicy details."

Alya practically salivates. Marinette side-eyes her soulmate mark. It has a lot of spots on it, at least a dozen or so, and by the time she dies, it will be completely full.

And she knows they will all be reminders of the one person she loves.


1890 words

Written for Romance Awareness - Soulmate marks that grow along with your relationship and Auction - (trope) friends to lovers