hey guys!
thank u for all your reviews, y'all are so cute! today's chapter is a roller coster of emotions, so, be ready!
happy reading!
Ouch, is Marinette first thought when she opens her eyes.
Could somebody turn off the sun? is the second one.
She feels like her head is going to explode. Her eyelids are so heavy. She just has to close her eyes and sleep, sleep…
What has her hand just grazed?
She sits up with a movement that's way too fast and she's almost sure her brain is still on the pillow.
Ouch.
Her hand against her forehead, she turns her head to the left.
Oh.
Adrien is lying down next to her, his disheveled hair forming a golden halo around his head. His face is titled to hers, revealing his closed eyelids and the quiet which seems to inhabit him. Marinette's eyes fall along his body, observing the bareness of his torso and the sheet which is coming down enough against his hips to show that deep "V" of his and the beauty spot on it.
"Marinette?"
A light jump shakes her shoulders while her gaze teleports in a second. "You're naked," is her only answer.
Adrien raises a brow, his eyes falling along her chest. "So are you."
Marinette opens her mouth, but the only sound escaping it is a surprised gasp when she realizes that, indeed, she's utterly naked. The sheet had dropped around her hips, leaving her breasts completely visible.
Adrien pinches his lips, obviously stopping himself from bursting out laughing when Marinette clumsily brings the sheet against her chest.
"Mari," he smiles, shaking his head, "you know I've seen them like… hundreds of times?"
"Hmmm?"
"Your tits. Hundreds of times."
She feels herself blush. Adrien has the presence of mind to slowly sit up, a smirk on his face.
"And last night. Oh, I did see them very well last night."
Her cheeks are burning. She can't remove her eyes from his.
"At least two… three times, hmm?"
Three, she thinks, keeping her lips sealed.
They had slept together again for the first time, completely overwhelmed by desire.
Marinette remembers it perfectly. Every word, every kiss, every murmur: she remembers everything.
It's what occurred after which remains blurrier. She knows they rejoined the party, welcomed by smiles and remarks implying that they had duped no one. She knows they've danced, sang, drank… a little too much, probably.
And they laughed. Oh, they laughed so much.
When the night had drawn to a close and most of the guests had left, Adrien and she slipped into her bed, and then... well.
Her memories are vague, the two times her body joined his are mixed one into another. But she remembers it was good. Very good.
And, if she goes by her sore muscles, it was pretty lively, too.
So, how can she still feel this desire growing inside her?
Marinette opens her mouth, about to tell him her thoughts, but she changes her mind at the last moment. She lets herself fall on the mattress, her fingers tapping against her belly through the sheet.
Adrien is staring at her, but Marinette keeps her eyes anchored on the window above them.
Screw it, she thinks. At this point, it doesn't really matter anymore.
So, she turns her head to his, her lips pinched, and grabs the sheet that she brings down along her chest. "Wanna move to four?" she asks, now naked down to her lower stomach.
Adrien's face, which has turned to a more serious expression, cracks a smile again. "Look at you," he whispers, laying a hand on her stomach, "completely hooked."
She is. Totally. "I can't help it," she answers with a shaky voice when his fingers move up dangerously along her body.
He hums.
"It's love."
Adrien's laugh makes her shiver when he kisses her neck. "I think it's lower…"
Marinette sucks on a breath when he moves his hand under the sheet.
"Right here…"
Her hips instinctively grind against his hand now between her thighs. Every kiss brings him a little closer to her breasts, without ever reaching them. And his fingers are a few centimeters from her clit, but seem to never get to it.
"Or here, maybe... " he whispers against her breastbone.
At first, Marinette thinks it's a position problem. So, she bends her knees, enough for her feet to be completely flat against the mattress, and spreads them.
Adrien smiles against her skin but doesn't move his finger at all.
"Adrien…"
"Am I wrong? It's here, then?"
He puts his money where his mouth is, sliding his forefinger against her groin until it's resting against her entrance, and… nope.
No, that's still a no.
"You know where it is," she groans, her hand grabbing his hair.
"Wait, it's coming back to me…"
His mouth wraps her nipple, making her moan in surprise. Surprise which turns to pleasure when his thumb presses against her clit and his forefinger slides inside her.
Her head feebly falls back against the pillow when she holds on to his hair roughly.
"Hmm…" he murmurs before releasing her nipple with a popping noise. "I think I found it."
Marinette feels his smirking lips going down along her stomach, quickly ending up where his fingers are.
Her fists squeezing the sheet, she feels a shiver of eagerness running down her body.
He completely disappears under the cover, grabs her thighs in a gentle caress to put them over his shoulders.
His burning breath hits her groin at each new respiration, making hers nothing more than pants.
His forefinger, still inside her, is joined by his middle one when his tongue falls on her clit.
"Mmm… Adrien," she can't help but moan.
The growl answering to her makes her instinctively bends, bringing her hips always closer to Adrien's mouth.
"Oh, kitty…"
His nails sink into the fleshy skin of her hip and his fingers curve upwards, forcing Marinette to muffle the cry which desperately wants to come out of her lips.
He then pushes his tongue against her clit and she knows she's only a few seconds from a dazzling orgasm.
"Adrien! Marinette!"
He jumps between her thighs, his mouth moving back from her core enough for a wave of frustration to overwhelm her.
She barely has the time to step out of this bubble of pleasure that Nino shows up in her room. The last effective neurons of her brain make her bring up the sheet against her chest.
"Nino!" she groans.
"I know he's here," he says, moving forward in her room, looking up at her bed. "Dude, your phone has been ringing off the hook since earlier, it's super annoying."
Marinette feels Adrien grumble between her thighs and tries to restrain her disappointed moan when he removes his fingers.
"Where is he?" Nino asks, his gaze coming and going along her room.
Adrien suddenly appears from underneath the sheet, ending up on top of Marinette.
"Give it to me," he grouches without even trying to hide his annoyance.
Nino raises a brow when he realizes the situation, throwing his phone that Adrien catches in flight.
"Alya is making something for lunch, but Adrien already ate, obviously."
Marinette closes her eyes, her palms pressed against her eyelids and lets her head fall down on the pillow again.
It's already hard to focus, but now she can feel Adrien's hardness brushing her lower stomach.
"Can you just… leave?"
"I got it, I got it," Nino smiles. "Have fun, kids!"
Adrien's shigh makes her smile.
"One more thing."
"Argh, what?" Adrien shouts.
"Nice tits, Mari."
Her eyelids instantly open and she feels Adrien stiffen up—even more than he already is—above her.
The sheet has slid down, showing her chest and her nipples erect from desire.
Adrien instinctively places his arm over her breasts and Nino chuckles before quickly leaving the room.
A shower—alone—has lightly sharpened Marinette's thoughts. The afterfternoon is already well underway when the apartment is completely tidied and cleaned up.
Alya and Nino leave them around four, only having teased them numerous times.
"You're all weird," Alya says when they meet to eat lunch.
Marinette feels her cheeks heat up. "No, everything is—"
"I saw her boobies," Nino explains.
"Nino…"
"I don't see why you're embarrassed, it's not like it's the first time or anything."
"What?" Alya and Adrien exclaimed.
"We grew up together. Calm down, guys. But they got way bigger since last time, I'll give you that."
At this point, Marinette's face has taken refuge between her hands.
"That's right, they're pretty," Alya affirms.
"Pretty?" Adrien has been surprised.
"Can you just stop talking about my—"
"They're beautiful."
Alya bursts out laughing.
"It's cute," Nino smiles. "He's in love with your titties."
Marinette asks herself how many synonyms he has left.
"Oh, she's all embarrassed because of you two," Alya grumbles, laying her hand over hers.
"I'm not embarrassed," she groans, sitting up.
They all look at her before bursting out laughing.
"Look at you! You're blushing."
"You are the worst friends ever!"
Adrien pulls her against him, gently kissing her forehead. Which hasn't helped her at all with making her cheeks less red.
"Careful, sunshine, it's your turn next," Alya warns him.
Adrien's laugh has stopped, replaced by a scared expression. "How—"
"Everybody saw Marinette naked—or close to it. But you…"
"I already saw him naked," Nino objects.
"And?"
"Oh, c'mon, that's not something I'll say!"
"Hmm… Mari?"
She stops breathing at this exact moment.
"You've seen him naked."
"Er…"
"So?"
"So… what?"
Alya raises an eyebrow in a very suggestive way.
"Alya!"
"What? I'm just asking."
Marinette rolls her eyes.
"Your silence says everything."
"We can't even eat in peace—"
Adrien suddenly bursts out laughing, interrupting her words and bringing his friends' stares to him. "Sorry," he articulates in his hysterical laughter.
"Ah, Marinette… you lucky girl."
Adrien's nervous laugh has only intensified, quickly joined by Alya's because of Nino and Marinette's scandalized expressions.
Her heart has filled up with happiness at that moment, and the joy of her friends has been so contagious that she quickly meets them in their laughter.
Marinette feels a smile draw on her face by thinking back on that discussion.
"Mari?"
Adrien appears from the bathroom, his wet hair falling in front of his forehead, only dressed with sweatpants.
His look avoids hers and his hand is nervously scratching his neck. "I've something to give you."
Marinette stops cleaning her room and focuses entirely on Adrien, who is walking towards her.
He had already taken part in the gift giving she received the night before, but what he wants to give her now is more personal, if she trusts his pinkish cheeks.
His right hand, until then behind his back, raises towards her, revealing… a ring.
Marinette opens her eyes wide.
"My mom gave it to me, before…" He's looking down at the ground. "She told me to keep it for the day I love someone enough to want to give it to them." His voice is so full of emotion that Marinette feels her throat tighten. "And I love you, Mari."
His face straightens up and his gaze meets hers. Marinette feels a tear run down her cheek when she notices his glowing eyes. "So, so much and… I want you to have it."
After all these suggestions, all these implied declarations, he has said it. Her heart has never seemed so heavy and light at the same time. "Adrien…" is all she manages to say.
"It's not an engagement ring or anything, it's just—"
Marinette raises herself on her tiptoes, puts her hands on his cheeks and kisses him. She kisses him slowly, with all the tenderness and the gentleness she has.
Adrien's hands fall to the hollow of her waist when he returns her kiss, salty with tears.
"I love you, too," she whispers, pressing her lips against his cheek. "So, so much."
A last, wet kiss left against his jaw and Marinette lands on the soles of her feet again.
The ring is beautiful. Silver-plated, thin, decorated with a diamond as green as Adrien's eyes in its middle. Agreste is engraved inside the jewel.
Marinette is surprised that the ring is a perfect fit for her finger. She has extremely thin fingers, making most rings too large for her.
But this one… it's like it has been tailor-made.
Adrien slides his fingers along hers, spreading goosebumps along her skin.
"Thank you," she breathes. "But are you really sure—"
"Yes," he cuts her off. "I don't want my father to find it, anyway. It's safer with you."
"Adrien…"
"You don't have to wear it," he whispers, playing with their intertwined fingers. "I just want it to be with you."
"It's not that… I'm gonna wear it, it's beautiful, it's just that… would your mom really agree with that?"
A smile immediately curls his lips up when he plunges his gaze into hers again. "Honestly… I think she would be annoyed because I only gave it to you now."
Marinette throws a look to the ring shining at her finger. The green of Adrien's eyes… the same one as his mom's.
"She would have loved you, My Lady."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
His fingers still interlaced with hers, Adrien bends towards her, his nose brushing hers. A few seconds later and they're kissing intensely.
"You're really pretty with this ring," he whispers against her lips when his hand finds its way to her hip.
A huge smile brightens Marinette's face.
Her back hits her desk on which she quickly ends up sitting on.
And they have sex, twice.
A little smirk at his lips, Adrien gently slides his fingers in Marinette's hair.
Her head is settled on his thighs, her eyes are closed, her breathing is steady. She's sleeping.
Adrien feels sleepiness weighing on his eyelids, but he doesn't intend to give in so easily. A lively night, to say the least, a few hours of sleep interspersed by Marinette's body on top of his and an afternoon animated by a declaration and him between Marinette's thighs—roles which had quickly switched, by the way.
All of this hasn't helped him be well-rested.
His entire body is sore, the alcohol drunk the night before is making his ideas still vague and the stiffness already begins to move along his pelvis and his legs.
He feels like he's floating in a dream.
Is this real? Is Marinette asleep on his thighs, wearing his shirt and his mom's ring? Did she really tell she loved him? Literally?
Adrien lets his head fall against the back of the couch, enjoying her satin-smooth hair against his fingers and the peaceful expression on her face.
Her left hand has wound up on his knee, making the jewel adorning her ring finger perfectly visible? Adrien has always loved her hands. He has always found them cute. They're proportional to the rest of her body—so, for him, really tiny. Her fingers are thin, always dotted with cuts and red spots—needle stings, obviously. And her nails never have the same length—even though they're pretty long, making him shiver every time they run along his skin.
He loves these little distinctive features he has discovered with time. They're her hands, they're her freckles which are spangling her nose, they're the beauty spot on her chest, they're the way that her upper lip is a little bit plumper than her inner lip. They're her hair, so soft, in which he doesn't get tired of running his fingers.
Adrien is dragged out from his contemplation by his phone which starts ringing. Moving as little as he can, he bends to grab it, tensing up at feeling Marinette wriggle against him.
A last look tells him that she's still asleep.
"Hello?" he whispers, finding his old position again.
"Adrien! I've tried to join you for hours—"
"I'm okay, Nathalie," he whispers, letting his hand fall in Marinette's hair again.
"Your father—"
"I'll be back before he notices I'm gone."
Nathalie doesn't answer. Adrien sighs—of course he hasn't noticed anything.
"Adrien…"
"It's okay. Thank you for worrying, Nathalie."
His eyelids close. How did things get so out of hand? There was a time, not so long ago, where his mom would have noticed the second he left.
And today… Adrien asks himself how much time his father would take to realize his absence. A few hours? A day? More?
"I'll see you tonight," he whispers, feeling his throat tighten.
And he hangs up, incapable of hearing Nathalie's answer.
Even kilometers away, Gabriel succeeds in having a terrible hold on him.
Marinette is right up against him. Marinette. He should enjoy her presence, the only person capable of taking his mind off of things, of making him think about something other than his father.
So, he focuses on her freckles again, on the softness of her hair against his fingers, trying at all costs to not think about the conversation Gabriel and he have had less than twenty hours before.
This time, when someone knocks at his door, Adrien doesn't have to pretend to be doing homework. He doesn't have time to do much, anyway. Apart of this wave of anxiety deep down inside him, like an ocean which is only waiting for shaking.
His father opens the door, barely having knocked, immediately wrapping Adrien with his austerity.
"Adrien," he says.
The inflection of his voice hits him straight away. Adrien puts his pen down and gets on his feet, his brows slightly frowned. "Father, what is—"
"Did you cease your activities with…" He closes his eyelids, as if he's thinking. As if he's going to bother doing so.
"Marinette," Adrien breathes. He feels a shiver run down his back when he pronounces her name. "Yes, it's over." Lie. At least, he hopes it is.
"That's a good thing."
He's almost sure he hears relief in his voice. And this feeling which is twisting his face, is this… anguish?
Is he even able to feel such a feeling? Adrien isn't sure of it.
"I have something to show you."
Adrien's eyebrows frown even more when his father takes a phone from his pocket.
His eyes open wide for a second—the time for him to control his facial expression and to maintain an expression of neutrality.
But he's far from neutral.
Not when Marinette is in the picture his father is showing to him. With Adam. He's close, way too close to her. His gaze that Adrien knows to be sick is lowered to her. He seems to be calm, almost amused. Perfect contrast to Marinette, whose every muscle is tensed, her face contracted in a horrified expression.
Three seconds and Adrien has analyzed the picture. Three other seconds and a scary amount of questions and answers overwhelms his mind.
The most obvious of all: what the hell Adam is doing with Marinette?
Then come all the questions stemming from it: who took that picture? What did they talk about? When did this happen? Why hasn't Marinette said anything to him?
The most frightening of all pierces his brain as violently as a bullet. What did Adam do to her?
A flood of answers comes right after. He remembers a day, just after they'd discovered their identities, when he had seen Marinette, Lila and Chloé. Together.
Chloé has nothing to do with that, he knows it. She cares way too much about Marinette to do anything who can harm her, closely or remotely.
But Lila… Lila is deceitful and manipulative enough for being in cahoots with Adam. It's probably she who took that picture.
So, the photo was taken more than a month and a half ago. Probably before they'd discovered their identities.
Adrien wonders if this altercation has something to do, in any way, with Marinette's letter. With the state she was in that day.
We all have our problems, okay? I've been distracted, she had said to him.
You don't know what I'm fighting.
Her words have a whole other meaning now. A frightening one.
What did he do to her?
What if…
"Adrien?"
He closes his eyelids, pushing far, far away all his thoughts, putting on this marble mask again, pretending that Marinette is not that important to him.
Pretending that she's not the very center of his existence. Pretending that he would not die for her, if necessary.
He has a billion questions on the origin of this picture, on why—why—would Lila send such a picture to his father?
Why would Lila send a picture to his father at all, anyway?
But he just looks up to him.
"Do you understand why you can't see her anymore?" Gabriel puts his phone away. "You have a reputation to maintain, Adrien…"
He stops listening.
What did Adam do to her?
He thinks back on her tears, that day. He thinks back on the infinite anxiety which had inhabited her—which still inhabits her. Make it stop, please, she has begged him.
What was she talking about?
What did he do to her?
Ladybug has never been unfocused, her mind has never been elsewhere. She has always been devoted, body and soul, to their duty.
What did he do for her to be so… out of it?
"Adrien, are you listening to me?"
What did he do to her?
"Adrien!"
Gabriel grabs his forearm, bringing him out from his trance. All compassion has left his face, giving way only to scorn.
"You're not going to ruin all the efforts we have made for you by doing anything with anybody. Do I make myself clear?"
"When you say 'we', you talk about mom?" he asks in a whisper.
His father tenses. "She would not want you to disgrace our family, Adrien."
Mom would not give a damn, he wants to answer him. She would not give a damn, as long as I'm happy. And she makes me happy, way happier that I've ever been since she's gone.
But he nods, swallowing the truth which is tearing his heart apart.
He has to keep this façade at all costs. He has to protect Marinette from the person standing before him.
"If it's a physical need, I can arrange that."
He wants to vomit the small amount of food he has ingested.
"But for the broken heart… I'm still trying to find out how to fix it."
Adrien is torn between the scant humanity his father is showing and this ease he has at making everything automatic. As if you can fix it—as if you truly heal from it one day.
Gabriel nods his head, releasing his hold on his forearm before moving to the door.
"Adrien?"
He raises his gaze fixed on the ground. His father is looking behind his shoulder. Inspecting him would be more accurate. "Do me a favor and go work out. You have been letting up."
And he leaves.
Adrien passes a hand along his stomach, feeling his abs through his shirt. Feeling his ribs, too, but he tries to take that out of the equation.
Thinking back on it, Adrien has not gone to work out.
But he guesses that Marinette and him have done more than one sport session, between the both of them.
His fingers brush the hair on her temple before losing themselves in her raven locks.
He still hasn't gotten the answers to his questions. The alcohol she had drunk last night isn't reassuring him. Perhaps she has just wanted to.
Or perhaps she has something to forget.
It's this very thing which is making him sick to his stomach.
He has tried multiple times to help her, to ask her what was wrong. But she has never answered. He has given her space, time, as much as she wanted.
Last night… he has probably caught up on all this space he has put between them in one night.
But today, when the alcohol is slowly flushing out of his organism and his ideas are clearing up… what is he supposed to do? Give her space, again? Or try to pull the truth out of her?
A part of his brain tells him that she'll talk when she's ready and that making her confess is only going to escalate the situation even more. But the other side of his mind is convinced that he must rip the band-aid off once and for all.
He's torn between the two possibilities offered to him, split between this voice full of fear and anxiety asking him if he's very sure he wants to know the truth and this other voice, daring and passionate, yelling at him that it's about Marinette.
So, whatever his own anxiety, whether his own nightmare becomes reality or not doesn't matter, because it's not about him here.
His eyes are still on her face, admiring her to the very last detail.
He loves her so much he feels his heart tear apart. He loves her so much it hurts.
A sound drags him out from his contemplation. The door opens, revealing Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng.
Adrien tenses immediately, all of a sudden very aware of the actual situation.
Marinette, her head on his knees. Him, his hand on her hair. Marinette, wearing his shirt—only his shirt. Him… here. Quite simply. Is he only allowed to be here?
But Tom's eyes light up and Sabine's lips curl up in a genuine smile.
"Adrien!" Marinette's dad exclaims. "So, you made it, it's—"
His words stop at the second he realizes Marinette's sleepiness. An expression of pure tenderness illuminates his face.
Adrien wonders if he has ever seen tenderness on his father's face.
"It's good to see you again, Adrien," Sabine whispers.
"Good to see you, too," he answers, smiling.
Her parents keep looking at them with softness.
"Do you want me to wake her up, or—"
"Oh, no, no, don't!" Tom quickly says. "She seems so peaceful."
Adrien has looked at her long enough to know she does. So, he nods, his fingers still lost in her hair.
"Want to stay for dinner, Adrien?" Sabine asks him, moving to the kitchen.
"I don't want to bother you—"
"You're not bothering us," she smiles. "It would be a pleasure."
"Well… yes, then. Thank you."
Sabine passes a loving hand in his hair when she walks next to him. Adrien feels his heart fill up with happiness and squeeze with nostalgia all at once, asking himself when was the last time his father had shown this kind of gesture towards him.
"So, what about the party?" Tom asks, sitting down on the couch, next to Marinette—rather to her feet.
Adrien feels Marinette suck on a breath. A quick glance tells him that her eyelids are still closed, but he's not so sure she's still asleep.
"It was… nice," Adrien answers, for lack of another adjective.
"I remember my eighteenth birthday," Tom says. "It was memorable!"
Adrien feels himself smile at the passion driving his words.
"Well, I don't remember everything…" he adds. "I hope you went easy on the booze, though!"
"Tom…" Sabine sighs. "Leave him alone."
"Yeah, yeah, sorry. Hey, what is that shirt, I've never seen it…"
He feels Marinette tense up against him—this time, he's sure of it: she's not asleep anymore.
"Uh…" Adrien stammers. "It's— well…"
"I'm teasing you!" Tom exclaims, all smiles. He stands up, leaving Adrien completely on edge. "I'll keep the questions for tonight," he says, turning around.
The kind smile which is still curling his lips makes his sentence even more frightening.
When he looks down with his intimidated eyes, he finds Marinette's teasing gaze, her lips trying—and failing—to not straighten up in a grin.
"Are you laughing?" he whispers, his hand gently caressing her forehead.
"No. No, of course not."
But her smile only grows bigger until it lights up her eyes, spreading to Adrien's face.
Adrien looks down at his place, looks at the piece of the quiche and the salad on it. The list of ingredients he's allowed to eat is way shorter than those that are forbidden. He can eat fruits, but not all of them, and there is no way he can add sugar. He can eat vegetables, but sauce is out of the question. He can eat eggs, but only if they're served alone—cakes, pastries or quiches, for example, are totally prohibited.
The only moment he can eat something really good, is when he's at Marinette's. High school food is always more enjoyable than what he's allowed to eat at home, but it can't be considered as good, either.
And everytime he walks past a vending machine, everytime someone offers him real food, he hears his father's grave and austere voice.
Be careful, Adrien. You have a photo shoot tomorrow.
If you want to stay in the race, you have to be skinnier than that.
You have to work out more, Adrien.
You have to be less muscled, Adrien.
You mustn't eat that, Adrien.
A bevy of contradictory remarks, of hurtful injunctions, of scornful orders.
He hasn't been at Marinette's for months. Therefore, he hasn't eaten something even slightly enjoyable for months.
Except Marinette, maybe.
"Do you want something else?" she asks him gently.
Adrien raises his head in a sudden gesture, meeting the kind looks of Marinette and her parents—even though he can spot concern on his partner's face, too.
"No, no," he quickly says back. "It's perfect."
He could weep with joy at the moment his taste buds touch the slice of quiche. "It's really good."
"Thank you," Tom answers. "It's been a family recipe for decades!"
Adrien is probably eating too fast, he knows it.
But it's so good. All these flavors—he hasn't tasted them in ages.
"Hey, Adrien, you don't have food at home or—"
Adrien's laugh ceases in a heartbeat, letting Adrien picture the disapproving gaze Marinette has just thrown her father, in all likelihood.
His amusement turns into embarrassment, and Adrien feels himself smile.
His father has said things so much worse to him so many times without ever showing any regret—and there is Tom, ready to apologize profusely for so little.
"It's nothing," he softly says. "My father is just a little… strict, sometimes."
Strict means here tyrannical and sometimes means often—very often.
He feels Marinette tense next to him, her who knows how much of a euphemism it is.
"It's just… I'm modelling for him, so…"
It's odd to talk about it out loud. Odd to talk about it differently than in pillowtalk with Marinette.
His gaze, until now downcast, rises in front of him again. Tom's embarrassment has been replaced with genuine concern.
And Sabine… she looks like she understands him. Really understands him.
He can't see Marinette without turning his face, but he knows she's on the look-out, ready to change the subject the second he would not feel comfortable talking about this anymore.
"You know," Sabine begins, "I grew up in China. I was twenty, when I came to France. So, I lived all my teenage years there."
Adrien is hanging on to her every word.
"I love my country—I really do. But you have to be skinny if you want to fit in, you know? It was really hard for me, especially when I was a teen."
He feels Marinette sit up next to him.
"European standards and Asian ones are really different. Of course, things change—thank God. But, twenty years ago, it was hard. I was never skinny enough, never."
A flash passes in Sabine's eyes—like the memory of a distant pain.
"Of course, I'm not pretending to know what you're living. And I'm not pretending that you won't keep the after-effects of all this, either. I still remember the remarks and teasing today."
Adrien nods, telling himself that he can hear his father's voice everytime he looks at his body in the mirror.
"But… it'll get better. It's a constant work, an everyday fight, but it'll be okay."
A smile curls up Sabine's lips—a smile full of hope.
"The important thing is to feel good about yourself. People who truly love you—who properly love you—will find you beautiful either way."
His eyes drift to his left for a second, where Marinette is. A comforting warmth spreads into his heart when she puts her palm on his thigh, under the table. He lets his hand meet hers, a shiver running down his back when his skin touches hers.
"Thank you," he answers with a moved voice. "Thank you so much."
He wants to say that his mom would have greatly liked her, that they probably would have been very good friends.
But his throat is too tight to say anything else, so he contents himself with answering her warm smile, taking another mouthful of this delicious quiche.
The rest of the dinner takes place in a calm and peaceful atmosphere. Conversation drifts to lighter subjects and Tom takes true pleasure in telling every story he remembers about his daughter.
He laughs, Marinette blushes and it's perfect.
Tom tells him about the obsession Marinette had about drawing on the walls, the time where she had cut all her clothes—she already had the soul of a great designer!—and the day where she had cut her hair by herself—it seems that she does not really have the soul of a great hairdresser.
"She was always with Nino!"
"They were adorable," Sabine smiles.
"Oh!" Tom exclaims. "I've got to show you something—"
"No," Marinette groans. "No, not the picture."
"Yes, yes, yes! Come on, Marinette, you know I love this picture."
She grumbles something beyond understanding and Adrien finds her really cute.
Tom, unmoved by her disagreement, picks up what seems to be a photo album. "Where is it…" he whispers, leafing through the album.
Adrien lets his gaze slide on the pictures. Baby Marinette, with her big blue eyes and a tuft of untameable raven hair, is particularly cute.
"Here! Found it!"
Adrien detaches his look from a picture where Marinette seems terribly focused, her tiny hands busy kneading bread—trying to, at least.
The smile curling his lips up turns into a chuckle when he looks down at the picture. There is Nino on one side, a cap pulled down tight on his head, a huge smile stuck on his face, wearing… a dress. A pink dress with white polka dots, which belongs to Marinette, in all likelihood. She's on the right, wearing too large shorts and a too big shirt—they're probably Nino's. She smiles, too, revealing two dimples at the hollow of her cheeks and a gap in her teeth, showing the incisor she had just lost.
And her hair… Adrien can't stop his laugh when he sees her hair. Bobby pins are scattered in it, showing the desperate attempts of her parents to control the crazy strands in her hair—without much success. They're reaching her ears and only very approximative bangs are partially covering her forehead.
Adrien wonders if it's because of this totally missed attempt that she has not cut her hair for so long.
"It's not funny," she grumbles.
Adrien's laugh just grows louder. He instinctively passes an arm around her shoulders, bringing her against him and dropping a kiss against her temple. "It is," he says back, grinning.
Marinette grumbles just more, her cheeks now covered with red. Adrien takes a few seconds to realize what he has just done—in front of her parents.
But they don't seem to be offended. They keep smiling, the sparkle of kindness and of pure gentleness shining in their eyes.
"Ah, these days seem so far away," Tom says, sitting up in his chair. "Now your hair has grown back, high school is almost over and…" His eyes drift from Marinette to Adrien who starts blushing, too. "You're growing up and…"
"Dad…" Marinette whispers, as if she feels the catastrophe coming.
"And you discover new things…"
"Dad, don't do that—"
"You don't leave me a choice, honey! Me and your mom, we've been patient, very patient for all this time, but it's time to illuminate some points…"
Adrien furrows, sitting up. "What are you—"
"Sexual relations are—"
"Oh, wow," Adrien exteriorizes.
He was expecting a life lesson, a philosophical comment, a passionate storytime, perhaps.
But he hasn't expected this discussion.
"We've been very patient, Marinette. We were certain it would happen, one of those days."
Adrien feels a rush of embarrassment warm up his cheeks. Awkwardness is yet offsetted by a light amusement and a dash of jealousy. Jealousy he feels stupid for feeling, because he doesn't need to turn his head to know that Marinette is as red as her heroine suit and as comfortable as a duck out of water.
But he would prefer to be embarrassed because of attentive and kind parents, rather than scared before a father who doesn't even take the trouble to talk to him about things like that.
"Especially as you have had feelings for Adrien since forever, it was bound to happen—"
"Dad!"
"Excuse me?" Adrien asks, his brows frowned.
"Tom," Sabine sighs.
Adrien's gaze teleports to Marinette, tearing off from the clumsy expression of her dad. Her forehead is pressed against the table, her arms wrapping her face but he still can perfectly hear her grunting.
"What…"
"Oh, it wasn't a big deal!" Tom blurts out, desperately trying to keep up appearances.
Marinette suddenly turns her head and removes her arms, revealing her crimson skin and her supplicating eyes. "Can we talk about this later?"
Adrien nods, hit by her shaky voice.
Especially as you have had feelings for Adrien since forever, he tells himself. Does that mean that—
"The fact remains that we have had suspicions," Tom resumes. "That's why we always talk openly about it with you, to make you aware of certain subjects."
Adrien forces his attention in front of him, even if his mind is still turned to Marinette.
"But Adrien… we don't know if he has been educated in the same way."
"Uh…" Tap, tap, tap, does his feet against the ground. "I've had classes at school—"
"It's far from enough, son!" Tom assures. "Far, far from enough!"
"Ah," he breathes. "My… my mom told me about certain things, but… she didn't have time to say much."
A shade of sadness passes in Sabine's eyes, but Tom is so focused on his goal that he just nods his head.
Adrien doesn't take offense—he's pretty curious about knowing what he wants to tell him.
"I see, I see. Well, I'm going to start with the fundamentals, to be sure to cover everything."
Marinette groans something incomprehensible next to him, making his smile hard to cover.
"Let's start from the beginning," Tom firmly says. "Do you know how to put on a condom?"
"Dad!" Marinette cries out. "Do you think we're dumb or something?"
"Marinette," Sabine sighs.
"I know you know, I'm talking to Adrien," Tom answers. "So?"
He nods, remembering the ease she had shown the first time a condom had been needed between them.
"Good, good. It's a nice start."
Next to him, Marinette has dropped her groans and her exasperation for a focused quietness. Adrien has no doubt about the fact that she has already had this very same conversation multiple times, but she seems to know it's a first time for him.
"If you have several partners, you have to go get tested regularly—if you only have one, too, by the way," Tom explains.
Adrien slightly looked to his left. Marinette's chin is settled against her hands flat on the table. A single sidelong glance from her tells him what he already knew: whatever is going on between them, it's only between them two.
"I'm not pretending that I know the nature of your relationship, of course…"
Tom's voice is uncertain, his fingers nervously tapping his forearms, as if he's stopping himself from saying something.
"Tom," Sabine sighs. "Don't bother them."
"No, no, sorry… it's just that… it's easy to wonder…"
Adrien has no clue about what he can answer. He's wondering, too, anyway. He wonders a lot.
But Marinette seems to have an answer. "We're together," she says, sitting up.
Adrien turns his head so fast his neck hurts him. "We are?" he whispers.
"You are?" Tom smiles.
"Yeah, he's my boyfriend," she says.
She looks at him with begging eyes and Adrien nods.
It's a trap answer—an answer leading to a flood of new questions.
"I'm sorry!" Marinette apologizes, her forehead hitting his torso.
They're on the landing of her apartment now, Tom and Sabine have let them privacy to say goodbye.
Adrien put his hands on both sides of her cheeks, preventing her from crashing into his breastbone one more time—she has a terribly hard forehead.
Marinette looks up at him, immediately wrapping him in cerulean blue. "I freaked out, I didn't know what to say," she explains with a little voice. "I'd totally understand if you were mad at me. If you want, I can go tell them the truth right now! I'm going to, now, I—"
He doesn't know another way to stop her non-stop words flowing than kissing her.
So, he kisses her.
His face bends down to hers, his hands on her cheeks, he presses his lips against hers in a sudden and brief kiss.
He stands up, softened by her widened eyes and her half-opened lips. "And what's the truth?" he whispers, brushing her cheekbones with his thumbs. "That I'm in love with you? That you're in love with me?"
He will never get tired of saying it—never. And, if he goes byMarinette's blushing cheeks and the goosebumps he feels running along her skin, neither will she.
"I've dreamed of being with you since ninth grade, Mari."
"Weren't you dreaming of being with Ladybug?"
"Mari?"
"Hmmm," she whispers.
"You are Ladybug.
She rolls her eyes, making him smile straight away.
"And you, haven't you been dreaming of going out with me since ninth grade, too, by the way?" he murmurs in a mischievous tone.
"Maybe…" she shyly answers.
His smile grows only bigger—she's truly adorable.
"I get it, now." One of his hands slides down her waist, enjoying the softness of her sweatshirt—when she woke up, she had exchanged his shirt for an outfit which was less revealing of what they had spent the afternoon doing. "It's true that you were a little weird, in ninth grade. And in sophomore year. And in senior year, too."
Marinette gently hit her foot against his calf, a smile floating at the corners of her lips. "You really sucked, it was soobvious."
"I thought you didn't like me. And then I thought you still didn't like me, but you were making an effort for Alya and Nino. And then I thought you liked me a bit more, but that you especially liked my body—"
"Adrien!"
He puts his lips against her forehead between two laughs. "All this to say," he whispers, replacing one of her locks behind her ear, "I would really love to be your boyfriend, M'Lady."
Marinette's surprise tenses her entire body. Adrien still smiles, his lips close to her ear.
"Really… you do? You're not mad at me?"
Another kiss against her temple and he moves back to plunge his eyes into hers. "No," he answers. "I just would have liked to ask you out by the book, you know. We would have eaten on the rooftops, with candles and all."
Marinette's smile makes her eyes sparkle. "And a quickie on top of the Eiffel tower?"
A genuine laugh makes Adrien's vocal cords vibrate. "A quickie?" he repeats, getting his lips closer to her ear. "You have massively underestimated me," he whispers. "I would have taken my time and I would have kissed you," he keeps going, brushing his lips behind her ear, "everywhere."
A new shiver runs down her skin, more powerful this time, when Adrien drops kiss after kiss against her neck.
"Can you ask me out again tomorrow?" she whispers, a hand against his nape.
He nods again, a smile, sadder this time, drawing on his face. "Of course."
Marinette suddenly throws herself on him, wrapping his waist with her arms, pressing her face against his torso. "I love you," she says in a muffled voice.
Adrien feels his heart take off his rib cage. A hand against her waist, the other one gently caressing her hair, he closes his eyelids, enjoying her warmth right up against him. "I love you, too," he answers in a whisper. "So much."
Adrien is in a good mood this morning.
It's Monday and he always has a million problems to solve. In that way, nothing is different from every other Monday.
But today, he's with Marinette.
As a couple.
They're together.
A stupid, stupid smile tickles his lips everytime the idea brushes his mind—at pretty much every second, that is.
Yes, he can't cry it out loud at the entire world—not yet. Yes, he can't get his arm around her shoulders, can't hug her and kiss her like everyone else—because his father isn't like everyone else. Yes, there are still tons of things he has to clear up and subjects to broach.
Yes, Adam makes him sick to his stomach. Or makes him want to crush his head against a wall. Or maybe both.
But all this, he's going to face it with Marinette. By her side, problems seem less big, less insurmountable. And little moments, like the instant he looks at her for the first time each day, seems more important, brighter, pushing away the daily darkness.
This state of mind makes him smile during a large part of the day. The impatience he's feeling when he thinks about the coming night makes his heart jump in his chest at every beat.
While he walks to the locker room, Adrien thinks about the next hours. Go to his fencing training. Go home. Do some homework. Work on his piano. No, showing his father that he's working on his piano. Sneak out through the window. Go buy somes candles. Maybe some macarons. And chocolate. And flowers. Think about bringing a blanket, if Marinette really thinks about what she has said to him about the Eiffel Tower. He probably should take a condom. Or two. To be sure.
Adrien feels himself smile at the idea.
Oh, he's excited.
He's not really focused on his movements but rather on his thoughts, making him more absent-minded than usual. He opens a door, thinking it's his locker room, but—
"Sorry!" he blurts out, noticing a feminine presence. One second. He takes one second to realize it's Marinette. "Mari?" he asks, opening the door more. "What the—"
And there, everything stops.
The train of his thoughts, his eagerness, his joy, everything. Disappeared.
There's nothing left, except what's in front of him.
Marinette, pressed against a wall, her ponytail completely messed up, shaking from head to toe.
Each thing he notices sends him a new horror impulse.
The scratches striping her thighs and her arms.
The tank top she's wearing roughly ripped, making her sports bra completely visible.
And her look. Adrien will never forget it. Never. Her eyes are reddened, full of tears, full of fear, of terror which turns his blood to ice. Further in her irises, there is bravery shining, too, an almost animal determination.
And here, in the moment she realizes he's here. Relief. Endless relief.
He notices her hands then, raised before her, fiercely holding onto a shirt.
A shirt below which there is a belt. An undone belt.
It's undone.
And Adam is smiling—until he sees him.
*smile innocently*
yeah, I know, it's a horrible way to end the chapter. BUT I'm gonna update you guys more often because I almost finished to write the last chapter of this story—in French, that is.
anyway, hope you liked it! it was really nice and fun to write—especially the first scene and the discussion about mari's breasts which wasn't planned at all lol. about adrien, I find it interesting to show the contrast between his father and mari's parents, tell me your thoughts about this!
and about the ring, it was, once again, not planned at all! I had the idea when I was writing the chapter and it was so cute and so accurate and so THEM.
concerning the last scene... ur... I'm sorry guys, but next chapter is going to be hard to read, I warn you now.
I'll update you soon, I promise!
y'all have a good day!
lucie
(let me say it: OMG THEY'RE DATING!)