AN: Bonjour! I had this random idea that wouldn't leave me alone so here it is for your reading pleasure. LOL.

Happy reading~

Ps. All French in this fic will be italicized!

Summary: Romantic rendezvous with a complete and total stranger in the least likely of places? Check yes.

Je Veux Être Avec Toi

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It was that time again.

Laundry day.

Adrien piled all his clothes into a basket. Literally everything. Not a single piece of clothes was clean and he's lost count of how many days he's worn and could continue to pull off wearing the same outfits.

"Ugh. You're such a slob" Plagg muttered as he munched on a piece of camembert.

"It wouldn't be such a mess if someone actually cleaned after themselves AND didn't leave crumbs of cheese everywhere " the blonde model glared at his little magical black cat companion.

Plagg rolled his big green eyes and floated his way away from Adrien's nagging.

"I miss having maids" Plagg whined as hues of colors and textures of fabrics flew passed his head.

Adrien got down on his knees and searched underneath his bed for any sneaky articles of clothing that might've escaped his line of vision. "You know what, Plagg? I miss them too. I miss having a bedroom that was literally the entire size of our apartment but we don't have those luxuries anymore so you're just going to have to deal with that fact. I'm twenty-three and have had enough of my dad's ridiculous and strict rules"

"Well it's hard, okay? We've lived here for less than six months" Plagg sighed again, he almost lost his appetite with his dread.

"I'm still learning how to be on my own. So far we've done okay… Haven't we? Now where's that pesky sock at…" Adrien stuck out his tongue as he flexed his arm muscles trying to reach as far deep under his bed as he could.

"Ah-ha! There you are!" Adrien sprung up from his laid position on the floor and victoriously showed off the red sock to Plagg.

"…And where's its pair?" He asked.

Adrien groaned and kept searching for it.

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Forty-five minutes later of finding all his dirty clothes and a heavy pocket filled with euros - Adrien was ready to set out to a laundromat he had discovered on rue de Seine in the 6th arrondissement. It wasn't a long ways from where he lived but he enjoyed the drive there. It was close to the Seine itself, art galleries, a pretty amazing café, and some fashion houses he's worked along with and competed against.

"Plagg, the door" Adrien huffed as his basket of clothes blocked his vision. Plagg swiftly flew to the laundromat's entrance and used a bit of magic to get the door opened otherwise his stubby little hands wouldn't be able to.

With a loud thud, the basket fell to the floor as he went to go get a second load from his black Bugatti Veyron.

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Marinette wheeled her tiny red and black polka dotted trolley cart holding a basket filled with about a week's load of clothes towards the laundromat located on rue de Seine. Alya, her best friend always nagged her about the distance, it was about a thirty minute walk from where Marinette lived but she enjoyed the exercise and scenery. Each arrondissement had its own personality to it after all.

Once she reached her destination, she noticed a very, and she meant very nice car parallel parked nice and snug right outside the laundromat.

Passing the owner of the car and their opened car door, she made her way inside herself to find an open spot. It was a Sunday with unusually hot weather for a Parisian summer day at 32.2 Celsius.

The laundromat had no air conditioning and Marinette was fully clothed except her legs. She wore short black gym shorts, a pink tank top that was hidden by a long sleeved grey sweater and grey with pink striped jogging sneakers.

"Make sure to stay hydrated!" Tikki, the magical little ladybug squeaked as she hid inside the trolley basket.

Marinette smiled at her companion, "I know. Thank you"

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Kicking his car door closed, Adrien made his way back in with a much smaller load and placed it right by his first basket. Wiping the sweat off his blonde brow, he threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled the unruly sweaty mess back.

He noticed now that he wasn't alone in the laundromat as before. Plagg quickly hid in the smaller load as Adrien set his detergent on the counter.

Smiling at the young woman that was sharing the same counter as him, she briefly acknowledged him and set her own soaps on the counter.

"You don't mind sharing this space, do you?" Adrien spoke up, asking the petite woman.

"Not at all" Marinette replied back, setting her euro coins on the counter to count them.

Ignoring each other for a couple of minutes, the silence felt awkward to her. Marinette separated her coins and her darks from her whites as she couldn't help but watch the young man. He wore black with green striped basketball shorts, a green tank top undershirt, and white sneakers. She wasn't going to lie - he was pretty hot, both literally and metaphorically. His shirt hugged him in all the right places and his arm muscles bulged out just right at her. He was lean and tall with lightly tanned skin. His hair was messy and a sun kissed gold shade with piercing green eyes. He reminded her a bit of the infamous Parisian hero - Chat Noir, minus all the black leather and cat ears and bell.

Adrien didn't notice the pair of blue bell eyes that watched his every move as he went to insert his coins into the dispenser and pressed the corresponding number of the washers he was using. Heading back to the machines, he dumped everything into two separate washers.

"Your whites will get ruined that way" Marinette unconsciously chimed in.

"Huh?"

"Especially if you throw in red socks into a white load… Unless you're aiming for pink clothes"

"I guess even doing your laundry has its own science to it, doesn't it?"

Marinette couldn't help but laugh as she quickly separated his already soaked clothes and made sure that both whites and darks and whatever other delicates he had were all saved from disaster.

While she fixed his problem, Adrien couldn't help but notice that patch of yellowish green, with a hint of blue and purple healing bruised skin on the top of her hands as her sweater rose up a mere inch and stuck to her skin with the water of the washer.

"Demanding job?" he asked without realizing what he even asked.

Marinette looked down at her hands and noticed what he meant. Finishing up separating and helping him out with his clothes, she snorted at the comment. "More like demanding boyfriend who happens to be a complete asshole"

Adrien paused and went over what he just asked in his head and groaned. "Sorry. My mind is a bit unfiltered and I tend to ask things without thinking"

Marinette gently smiled at him, "It's fine, I don't mind. I actually appreciate letting out steam once in a while with honesty, especially with strangers"

"Who says we have to be strangers?" there he goes again, even in his civilian form he couldn't tame his inner Chat Noir. He winked at her and couldn't stop himself fast enough. Note to self: punch yourself later.

Marinette placed her right hand on her hip and smirked, "Cheeky aren't you? And here I thought only Chat Noir was flirty"

Adrien's heart quickened in pace as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Have you personally met our infamous hero?"

"Maybe I have or maybe I haven't. I never miss the news" she vaguely replied.

"Touché" he grinned.

"You're probably wondering why I'm dressed for cooler weather"

"I didn't want to be rude. I'm a gentleman after all"

"My hands and arms are bruised" Marinette sighed, "It really sucks… I was planning on wearing a pretty blue sundress this weekend"

Adrien's heart sank for her, should he show her sympathy or would she get mad at him for pitying her? Was it pity or empathy? "D-D-Do y-you want to t-talk about it?" he stuttered.

Marinette walked over to the coin dispensers and pressed her own numbers for the washers she was occupying and shook her head. "Maybe some other time. I'm afraid I'm just a ticking time bomb"

Adrien gave her a sincere smile, "I'll be here. And if you're not, then I'll still be here… trying to figure out how to do my own laundry"

Marinette giggled and shook her head at him, "I'm sensing you're hopeless already"

Adrien clutched the cotton fabric of his undershirt near his heart and lightly gasped, "You wound me, my fair stranger"

"Marinette" she corrected him and asked, "Et toi?"

"Adrien" he replied with a cheesy bow. He couldn't help himself, he felt already comfortable enough around her.

"So you share the name of Paris one and only Fashion Prince?"

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't" he told her, mimicking what she said earlier. He knew that what he just said made no sense whatsoever but wasn't thinking clearly around her.

Did she already discover who he is? Or perhaps she's pretending not to make a big deal out of it? But then again, why would he - Adrien Agreste, the son of Paris most prestigious fashion house be doing at a public self-service laundromat? Unless he moved out and stood up to his own father, that's what.

Peaceful silence took over the two as they finished tending to their clothes needs. Sunset soon took over with the setting sun blending into the clouds in the horizon. Adrien was still waiting on his last load to finish drying as Marinette had finished neatly folding her clothes and placing her basket back in her trolley cart.

"I'll see you next Sunday, Monsieur Agreste" Marinette held the entrance door with her back as she looked at him and winked, wheeling her cart out the door.

Adrien was rendered speechless. So she did know.

She knew and didn't dare say a single word.

Adrien chuckled and gave her a two finger salute, "Á bien tôt"

Next Sunday couldn't come any sooner.

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Done! To be continued.

I've had this idea of a laundromat trolling me for about a good week or so.

Laundromats are quite different in France than in the States and there's about 20 arrondissement (kinda like neighborhoods) - I chose the 6th since it's not too far from the Notre Dame where Marinette's home is located near in the show. I've never personally been to France but I've been doing my research and hope that I've conveyed that well enough.

32.2 Celsius is about 90 degrees Fahrenheit.

Things aren't as simple as they seem. Mwahahaha.

Please do review! Follows and Alerts tell me that you guys are at least interested in the story but reviews really let me hear out what your feedback and personal opinions on my stories are!

If anyone is afraid to leave reviews due to language difference - please don't be! I can fluently read Spanish and partial French! :) And hey, that's why Google translate was invented after all! LOL.

Remember to R&R! Plz & Thankies! :]

i don't own Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrien Agreste, Plagg or Tikki and all other future characters used in this fic.

Miraculous Ladybug is owned by Thomas Astruc/Zagtoon/etc.

i just own this idea/plot/whatever you want to call it~ lol :p