A/N: Do I have a plot? Yes. Do I know how to make the plot go?. . . Maybe.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or added this story to their alerts/favorites. It's strangely relieving to know that I'm not terrible at smut, especially since there will be more. Not in this chapter, but more.

All Your Love is Revenge

Ch. 2: Like a River Flows Surely to the Sea

The first thing Marinette did on that Saturday was run to the nearest open pharmacy.

Okay, no. The first thing she did was have her ear lectured off by Tikki who went on and on about secrets and safety and dangerous lines being crossed. It was nothing new, and she couldn't really focus on her words when every time she mentioned dangerous lines she thought of Chat Noir's tongue in her mouth and his dick inside her.

Which led to her squealing into her pillow for about twenty minutes. Followed by staring at her wall for another ten. At that point, Tikki stopped her lecture.

Then she took a shower, because what if her parents could smell it? There's a smell, right? She had read enough bodice rippers to know that there's some sort of smell. Also a glow. Should she put make-up on? Does she need concealer? What is she concealing?

So after the lecture, extended freaking out time, shower, change of clothes, more freaking out, and somehow convincing her parents that there was no real reason she was up so early, she ran to the nearest open pharmacy.

Because last night they may have forgotten something vitally important. And by may have, she meant they totally forgot to use a condom! And she wasn't about to become a statistic. Not now when she was doing so well in classes, and her teachers all said she was right on track for the university course of her dreams, and they still hadn't stopped Hawk Moth and she couldn't do that while nursing a baby!

Nobody ever mentioned sex came with so much stress! Of course, nobody else had sex with a superhero while hiding the fact that she was also a superhero.

Her face was crimson as she shyly asked for a morning after pill, despite the fact that the middle aged woman attending her didn't seem to care what she asked for. She bought a bottle of water so that she could take the pill before getting home. And then, feeling equal parts bold and embarrassed, she bought a box of condoms too.

Too filled with nervous energy to head straight back home, she wandered to the park and distracted herself on her phone. She researched the things she had been too shy to ask her parents - despite the fact that her parents did their best to give her a healthy sex education and spoke about open trust between them - or even Alya who, as of two months ago, had started a sexual relationship with Nino. She researched how long she would ache and if she would ache every time she did it. She researched if her sudden bout of anxiety was normal for girls her age. She checked if there was actually some sort of sex related smell. She flushed and was pleased when she read that most women don't experience an orgasm their first time having sex, and was almost proud of herself for managing it. Well, Chat helped too, but men have it easier!

Her soiree into healthy sexual identity forums eventually led her to posts on tips for better sex, lists of tricks, and sites on kinks. Which eventually led her to walking to the nearest supermarket and buying enough canned pineapple slices to make a doomsday prepper weep because there were things she wanted to try and she would like to be considerate about them. She had to transform into Ladybug to take it all directly into her room because she really wasn't ready to have that conversation with her parents. Especially since she couldn't really explain who she was having sex with.

When she was thirteen, her mother had sat her down to have The Talk. Most of it was probably the usual mother-daughter talk of the birds and the bees, but it was the end that stuck with Marinette. At the end, Sabine had taken her hands, looked her in the eyes and said, "I know the ideal is to wait for your wedding night, to find one person that you will spend the rest of your life with and give them your virginity, but that's not always possible. You are more than your chastity, and you will be no more or less than any other woman in the world if you have one or five or twenty partners in your life. All I ask is that when the time comes, even if you're fifteen, you will tell me so I can help you be responsible. And that you will bring the person that stole your heart to meet your papa and me."

Marinette had promised she would, and she had always assumed she would be able to keep her promise. She sighed as a tiny kernel of guilt took up residence in her heart.

One day she would keep her promise to her maman. But not now. And not with Chat.

Sunday was blessedly uneventful. There were no akuma attacks and she spent the day interchanging texts with Alya on and off. There was no mention of Adrien or Paris' superhero duo and she felt as if the heavens themselves were smiling on her.

Monday, on the other hand. . .

She thought she was used to keeping secrets by now. This one was especially easy to keep since no one had any reason to so much as suspect her of having a tryst with a masked man. Or any sort of tryst at all. She had come to terms with the fact that she was glaringly obvious in her crush on Adrien, and everyone seemed to be under the impression that she was saving herself for him. Because she was. Or had been. Whatever.

The point was that there was no reason for her to feel like she was being observed at all times. That didn't change the fact that she did. When Alya ran up to her excitedly in the morning she almost thought she wanted to interview her. Turns out she wanted to show her the green and orange wire bracelet Nino had made for her, and the sweetness of the gesture distracted Marinette until they got to class.

Then the day got worse as everything reminded of her sex. Everything! She felt like a teenage boy that had just discovered his sexual drive, mindlessly doodling phallic imagery on every available surface. Seriously, Chloé making a snide remark about her bed hair should not make her flush because she remembered her hair spread on her pillow as Chat thrust above her. Alya asking her why she was being unusually subdued instead of sassing the blonde back like usual only made things worse because then Nino expressed concern.

And Adrien! Adrien stared. Stared in a way he never had before and she had the fleeting thought that he knew somehow. She immediately dismissed the thought. Whatever glow she had - her mom had mentioned she seemed unusually chipper that morning - had long since faded. She was just plain Marinette again. Besides, Adrien was so innocent that even if she was glowing bright enough to blind him he wouldn't be able to connect the dots.

She was only worried he would find out because if he did he would think her unavailable. She was being ridiculous!

Her only reprieve came during the time set aside for their literature projects. The teacher had decided to challenge them by having them do projects on poems in languages that they couldn't speak. Alya had a Japanese waka poem, Nino had a Cantonese poem, and Adrien had a Ghanaian poem to read and write a thesis around.

Marinette had an English poem, which everyone else in class envied, because they figured it would be the easiest to research. She'd be happy if it was any other English poem. The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes nettled her fiercely. Tragic romance had never been her cup of tea, and the romance between Bess and the robber was particularly bad in her opinion as not only was the woman sacrificed for the sake of an outlaw, but he ignored her wish for his survival and got himself killed anyway.

"It's romantic," Alya shoved at her shoulder.

"It's idiotic," she argued. "And sexist. And pointless! What is the point of this poem? Everybody dies?"

Alya snorted at her dramatics, "People do stupid things for love."

"Love is stupid," she shot back without thinking and saw Adrien stiffen in the corner of her eye. She realized what she must sound like: bitter and jilted and entirely unattractive. "I mean, that kind of love is stupid. Disney told me love makes you strong, not gets you killed."

The journalist-in-training chortled at her words and all seemed to be forgotten as everyone turned to their own work.

She had never been happier to have school finish when the final bell rang. Right up until the moment Alya threw her arm around her shoulders and invited her to get ice cream.

"Er - I - um, I can't today. I have a doctor's appointment."

Alya looked at her weirdly, "Are you feeling sick?"

"No, no! I just - it's just a normal check up. This was just the only time my doctor had available."

"Oh, well then, want me to go with you?"

"No! I- ahem - no, it's no big deal. You can go get ice cream, maybe hang out with Nino. . . or something."

Alya stared, Marinette smiled widely, then the brunette shrugged. "If you say so."

Marinette did her best to not look relieved. There was no way she could explain to her best friend that she had scheduled the first available appointment with a gynecologist for birth control pills. Condoms were surprisingly expensive, and she'd probably blow through her meager savings in a few months if she had to buy packs of five or six at a time. Then she had to stop herself from blushing furiously as she realized she was planning on having sex with Chat for the next few months, at least.

The lies kept piling up. At dinner, she'd had to explain her late arrival at home after school by saying Alya had invited her for ice cream. Which was technically true, it just wasn't the reason why she was late. Every time her mother smiled at her, she felt that little kernel of guilt grow. She was so trusting, both her parents were, and they believed that they had raised their daughter to trust them with anything.

And she did! Really, she did. It was only anything relating to the miraculouses that she kept hidden from them for their own protection. Even Tikki agreed it was for the best! And Chat fell under that category. There was a part of her that was sure her parents wouldn't be disappointed in her if she admitted she had entered a friends with benefits arrangement. They did their best to make sure she felt loved and accepted, and even if it wasn't the best sexual relationship to have, they wouldn't try to make her feel ashamed for it.

If it was anybody else, she would tell them, she was sure. Maybe not immediately, maybe it would take a few days, but she would tell them. Maybe she would even try to convince her partner to come meet her parents if they hadn't already, because she had promised. Promises were important, especially promises made to her parents.

If it was anybody else, she wouldn't feel so alone. She wouldn't have to go to a gynecologist for the first time all alone, her mother would have been there to hold her hand and talk about alternative contraceptives. She would be able to talk about it with Alya, spend an entire night talking and laughing about it like they had after Alya confessed her first time. She would even be grateful for her father mercilessly teasing her and jokingly offering to hunt down her suitor.

If it was anybody else, she would still be filled with that euphoric, nervous energy she'd woken up with on Saturday morning. Instead, she was stuck with an anxious sort of dread. She was afraid somebody would find out about Chat Noir and somehow make the connection with Ladybug. People already thought they were a couple, if anybody saw him visiting another blue-eyed, blue-haired girl, they wouldn't be crazy to expect her to be the real Ladybug.

She ate sparingly and excused herself to her room under the pretense of having homework, but went straight to her bed. All she wanted was sleep. To wake refreshed and unafraid. A part of her wished she'd wake up and it would still be Friday night with Chat still laughing at some cheesy rom-com, and nothing had happened at all.

Then she heard a knocking from above.

She tensed. It was Chat, of course it was Chat. Who else could it be? But he never came by on Mondays. Friday nights were tradition, and he dropped in sometimes after particularly difficult akumas, but he never came by on Mondays. She got the feeling Mondays were unusually busy for him and she wondered if he had a part-time job. She never lingered on the thought for long, because that was dangerously close to trying to discover his identity, but now she was completely unprepared because he never came on Mondays!

She peeked at her purse, remembering the little case of twenty-eight pills she had gone out of her way to get, and sighed. There was no reason to ignore him. She was obviously planning on repeating the experience, there was no denying that. Unless, of course, he was coming by to tell her that he regretted having sex with her and never wanted to see her again.

That was unlikely. Also unnecessary. He could simply never come back, it wasn't like she could track him down. That is, Marinette couldn't; Ladybug would still have to work with him. And even if he never wanted a repeat performance, they could still be friends. He could just show up on Friday, watch a movie, and never mention it again. They could go back to their weird friendship and she wouldn't complain one bit.

It was much more likely that he was here because he wanted to see her, was so eager to see her he couldn't wait until Friday. The thought that he had spent the day as hot and bothered by everything as her crossed her mind and she clenched her thighs as a now familiar feeling began in the pit of her stomach.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was on her feet and throwing the hatch open. She froze when she saw him in the moonlight.

"Hi." Did she sound breathless? Why did she sound breathless?

"Hi," he smiled, and at least he sounded a little breathless too.

Her mind caught up to the situation after a few seconds of smiling and she realized she was blocking his way into the room. She let herself fall to her bed and called up, "Are you coming in?" Then she wanted to smack herself as she realized what it must seem like she was offering.

He effortlessly jumped into the room, letting the hatch fall shut behind him, and stood at the foot of her bed, more awkward than he had been even the first time she had invited him in. His tail twitched behind him. "So, how have you been?"

She snorted, she couldn't help it. "As well as I was, what, two days ago?"

"Two days, twenty hours, and thirty-three minutes," he replied automatically and then visibly tensed. "Give or take."

Marinette felt herself flush at the idea that he was honestly counting the minutes since the last time he saw her. She must have been really good in bed. "I didn't know timekeeping was a talent of yours."

He smirked, grateful that she didn't make a big deal about it. "It's a gift, and a curse."

She laughed at the familiar dialogue from Alya's beloved superhero comic books. "And how have you been these past two days, twenty hours, and thirty-three minutes?"

"Thirty-four now," he teased. Whatever tension he had been holding seemed to fall right off him and he flopped down onto her bed across from her. "And, honestly? It's been weird."

She was surprised at his candor, but he had always been braver than her. "Honestly? Same."

He snickered at the way she sighed heavily and placed her forehead on her knee. "It feels weird to keep things from my parents, I don't usually do that." Well, unless if it's for their own good. Tikki agrees, it can't be wrong! "And Alya, my best friend, she was completely honest with me about her first time. That's something girls do, but I can't tell her anything and it feels like a lie."

"Well," he shifted nervously. "You can tell her. I mean, you don't have to tell her it was with Chat Noir, but you can say it was with somebody from outside your school or something."

"No chance," she shook her head. "She knows all about my. . . feelings, and she'd want to know who managed to make me stray and she wouldn't let up until she found out the truth. Even giving her a fake name could backfire."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

She snapped to attention and looked him straight in the eye, "Well, don't be sorry! It's not like I regret it or anything. Even if you were somebody else, I'm sure I'd find a way to complicate this situation. Besides, you're like my closest friend, and I. . . I'm glad that my first time was with you."

There. She said it. Her face was so hot she thought she might faint, but she said it. The chances that her first time, or any time for that matter, would be with Adrien were next to nothing. She'd rather it be Chat than some random hook up in university or a drunken mistake at a club.

She was grateful he was blushing too. "I'm glad you were my first time, too."

His voice was so sincere, his eyes were so earnest, that she had to look away. Her eyes landed on her bag again. "So, I. . . I was wondering if - if there was going to be a next time?"

Some sort of strange strangled noise made her look at him. His face was still crimson, but his eyes were wide and his mouth was open. Was that too direct? Did he not want to? Maybe this was meant to be a one and done type deal. First time with your best friend was okay, but a regular occurrence might be a little strange. Or something.

She tried to backtrack, "I just meant - you don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought -"

"I have condoms!" He offered a little too loudly, causing her to wince and pray her parents hadn't heard.

When a moment passed without Tom Dupain barging in and demanding to know who was in his precious little girl's room, she breathed a sigh of relief. "S-so do I," she admitted shyly.

He smiled nervously and the bed moved as he shifted closer to her. "So, are we really doing this?"

She covered her own smile with her hand and nodded. She wasn't entirely clear what this was, and she was certain he wasn't sure either, but whatever it was she wanted it. His proximity alone caused goosebumps to appear on her flesh and her stomach to flutter with anticipation. It felt good to be with him. It couldn't be wrong.

"Yes, we are."

He grinned widely, cat ears standing at attention. "I'll get the lights!"

A/N: This chapter's title comes from Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, which includes the lines "Shall I stay? Will it be a sin?" which I thought fit the tone of this chapter quite well. It's also about fools falling in love, and if that's not the Love Square, I don't know what is!

The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes is a poem that I love. I was intrigued by the story and the tragedy since the first time I read it in Middle School, but even then I thought the ending was something to disagree with. The basic story is Bess, the innkeeper's daughter, falls in love with the highwayman, an outlaw. A spurned suitor sees and gets a posse to wait for the robber in her room where she's held at gunpoint. When she realizes he's about to be captured she shoots herself and the sound causes him to flee. The next day, he hears Bess was killed and turns right back around and is killed. But, you know, fancy!

I have no idea how easy or hard contraceptives are to get in France and since it's not that vital to the story, and researching higher education alone gave me a headache, I decided to base it on personal experience. Don't at me about inaccuracies in the French Health System.

Hope you enjoyed the fluff! The first part of their relationship will be pure fluff, because it's so uncomplicated. Except it really, really isn't, and that's where the angst comes in.

Let me know what you liked, didn't like, and what you thought could use improvement!

~ Destiny's Sweet Melody