Chapter Text
After the trap door closed, her bedroom was left in total silence. Marinette couldn’t move her body, her eyes burning a hole into the place where Adrien’s head was just a second ago. Her face was red from tears and embarrassment and her nails dig half-moons into her inner palms.
Her red kwami flew out of her hiding spot and looked at her holder with great worry in her big dark blue eyes. “Are you okay, Marinette?” the little voice said but was swallowed by the radio noise in her head.
This can’t be happening.
For her great misfortune, it really was and really did just happened. For a holder of the ladybug miraculous, bad luck seemed to follow her everywhere. Now she hadn’t only lost her donor, Mrs Gine Jinet, but Adrien.
“This is a disaster,” she said. It was much quieter than usual but there was a familiar hysteria colouring its edges.
“Breathe, Marinette,” Tikki instructed her to and only then did she realise her breath was coming short and uneven.
She put a hand on her fast beating chest and rubbed it into the white and pink floral shirt. Another set of tears rolled down her wet cheek and she wiped her puffy eyes with the corner of her long sleeve.
The buzzing in her head finally stopped and she could hear the muffled conversation their parents were having. She couldn’t make out another voice but was too afraid to check if he was still there.
“I just told Adrien that I’m in love with him,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“It is?” she asked carefully.
“Well, yeah. Besides, it’s too late anyway. You’ve already told him.”
Panic rose in her chest yet again and she buried her face in her sweaty palms. “Not helping, Tikki,” she mumbled, “I just … Oh god, what have I just done?”
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
She texted Alya and very briefly told her what’d happened and how she accidentality confessed. Her best friend was at first thrilled that Mari finally managed to do it after so many years but later backed down and promised her she will look into the spell book in attempt of making memory loss potion. Even though it was just night talk and that they won’t actually slip a potion in Adrien’s lunch juice, it did make her feel better.
Promising the young witch that they will talk about it after Marinette had a good cry, the vampire put down her phone and peeked into the kitchen. Adrien was gone but that didn’t stop her parents from asking tons of embarrassing questions about her love life. They’d known about her crush on a certain human boy since she was fourteen so there was no point in hiding it yet their daughter still tried assure them she was okay. She didn’t know how she managed to convince them to let her go to bed early and not shower her with more unrealistic advice but she also couldn’t bring herself to think too much about it. All she wanted to do was change into her pyjamas and disappear under her bedsheets.
For one she was happy to be in bed early. The weather app said there will be a storm so both she and Chat Noir agreed there was no need for patrol. Even if Hawk Moth released the akuma, the little butterfly would struggle to travel through the lighting and strong gusts of wind.
However, just as luck had it, the vampire couldn’t fall asleep. Soon, her head was throbbing and giving her a hot headache.
“I’m going to get some air,” she whispered to her half-sleeping kwami and opened the trap door to the balcony.
It was almost midnight but the rain hadn’t started yet, though there was humidity in the thick air. Though Marinette could see very well in the dark due to her vampire abilities, she still turned on the colourful lampion lights. They didn’t shine as brightly was she would want them to but there were still some street lights from the road bellow her balcony so the scene looked quite lovely. She only wished the dark clouds wouldn’t be hiding the stars.
She rested her elbows on the fence and tried to enjoy the view of her home city. Most people were already tucked in bed but there were still some late night artists whose windows were lit up in warm yellow light. The Eiffel Tower wasn’t yet shinning in its golden glory but she knew it will me in a matter of minutes when the clock will show a full hour.
She signed and mumbled some incoherent words. If only she could just fall asleep and pretend nothing bad happened.
Suddenly, something in the air shifted and she felt like she wasn’t alone and like she was being watched. Her Ladybug senses kicked in and she frantically looked around. She almost missed a particularly dark spot on her roof when a figure moved out if the shadow.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” the Parisian hero spoke cautiously, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Chat Noir?” she failed to hide her surprise, “What are you doing here?”
It wasn’t the first time he had visited her on the balcony and meeting him as her civilian self became pretty common over the past four years. Nevertheless, her pace quicken. She was always so careful to keep her secret identity well protected so that no one except Tikki and Master Fu knew about her being Ladybug, but if there was someone who was capable of figuring it out, it was her partner (sorry, Alya).
He jumped on the fence and sat on it like a real cat. Now she could see his pointed black ears, which turned at every small night sound, his dark mask, that covered his bow and the top of his well defined nose, and then the silver baton that was attached to the lower back of his leather suit.
“I was just out patrolling and I saw you so I though I should go check on you,” he said.
Yeah, right, ‘patrolling’.
But she couldn’t point out his obvious lie without revealing her identity so she decided to play along. It wasn’t like she minded his company anyway.
“Am I in some sort of trouble?” she asked innocently, looking back to the view in front of her, “Is it an akuma?”
“No, nothing like that. You just looked sad.”
She gave him a questionable look, then quickly turned away from him as she realised he was sitting much closer than she estimated. She prayed he couldn’t hear her racing heart or see how strongly she gripped the metal fence to stop herself from thinking how his blood might taste like.
“Ladybug and I are protectors of Paris and that includes making sure everyone feels safe,” he explained, “We check on some people to see if they are upset or in trouble. M’lady does it quite a lot actually and I thought I should do the same.”
That was true. They were paying this kind of visits over the past two years, though it was mostly to the former akuma victims. Marinette just never thought she will be one of them.
“Besides, we don’t want you to experience any strong negative emotions, do we?” he said half joking.
“Oh, yeah,” she forced a chuckle, “But you don’t have to worry about it. I’m alright.”
“You didn’t look alright when I saw you.”
“I’m feeling better,” she tried to convince him, “Thanks, Chat Noir, but I don’t want to keep you from patrol. Ladybug is probably waiting for you.”
“This time it’s just me.”
An idea struck her. “Well, then I really should go back to bed. I don’t want to distract you from your duty.”
For a second she though he might take the bait.
He didn’t.
Of course, he didn’t.
“But this is my duty. I’m making sure you aren’t getting akumatized, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”
There is no way I’m getting rid of him is it? she thought to herself, only to realise she didn’t want to be alone. He was great company – the best one, actually – and even though she couldn’t be completely honest with him, it would be nice to hear something other than a slightly too cheerful words of encouragement. She just needed to talk to someone that wasn’t Tikki or Alya or her parents. In fact she wanted to talk to someone who didn’t know much about her.
“Okay,” she sighed, “You can stay.”
“Well thank you, mademoiselle,” he gave her a big smile, “So tell me, what is bothering you?”
It felt weird to hear him say ‘bothering you’ instead of ‘bugging you’. Turns out the bad puns were reserved for Ladybug.
“You know that I’m a vampire, right?” she asked carefully. She was 99% sure her Chaton didn’t hate her kind but years of seeing people’s faces twist in disgust when mentioning her origin taught her to be careful.
“Mhm,” he nodded, “What about it?”
Relief washed over her but she hid it before he could see it reflect in her eyes. “I lost my donor over a month ago and couldn’t get any fresh blood since,” she explained, hoping the talk about her hunger wouldn’t trigger any of the two superheroes, “I do get some from the blood bank but it’s not the same.”
He tapped a finger on his chin in thought. “Have you asked any of your friends or family to help?”
“It’s … not that simple,” she sighed, “Sucking family’s blood is … Well, I don’t know how to say it differently, but for the lack of a better word it feels like incest.” She grimaced at the last word. “It’s not like blood sucking is inherently sexual. It’s actually pretty rare and is actually very much not recommended to do it while … you know.”
He nodded in agreement, his own cheeks turning pink in slight embarrassment. “I understand,” he stuttered a bit but still gestured for her to continue.
“So family is out of question,” she counted on her fingers, “and unlike some other vampires, witch and werewolf blood make me nauseous. I can only drink human blood, everything else is out of question.”
He furrowed his masked brows. “What if someone’s mixed? Like half human, half something else?”
“I haven’t tried it but it would probably still be bad. Kind of like mixing grape juice with wine.”
“Hmm… Makes sense,” he agreed.
“But I did once smell some of that rare siren blood. It might be the best alternative but I would rather not try.” She shrugged. “So unfortunately, human blood it is. And I’m starting to go insane.” Her eyes flew wide open with a realisation. “I m-mean, I’m not going to like eat y-you or anything,” she stammered, “I have things under co-control, I swear! I’m just … I’m just …”
“Hungry?”
She dared to steal a glance at him. He was impossibly calm and looked like he completely understood. There wasn’t even a hint of judgement or fear or even disgust.
If anything his tone as sincere, though worried. Impossibly soft.
“Yeah. Hungry,” she said quietly, then asked louder, “Chat Noir, are you a vampire?”
“Nope. Fully human.”
“Huh. I would’ve never guess,” she said in full honesty.
“This superhero suit does come with some advantages,” he offered an explanation. “I know I can’t fully understand what’re you going through but I do have plenty vampire friends so I can imagine what it’s like. You don’t need to be scared or embarrassed to talk about it, Marinette.”
Her chest grew warm and she was so happy she’d let him stay. “Thank you, Chat Noir. That means a lot to me.”
“Anytime,” he gave her a reassuring squeeze of a shoulder. The gesture was a bit unexpected but felt completely natural. His claws were drawn in too so there was no fear he might accidentality hurt her.
The raven haired girl though he might leave but instead asked her another question. “What if you asked one of your human friends? I’m sure someone might agree.”
Yeah, about that …
“It’s … complicated.”
He didn’t say anything, letting her to find the right words.
“I don’t have many human friends. All are either half or fully vampire, witch, werewolf or siren. And the donor has to be over 25 years old, or in case of a temporary donor, over 18.”
“I’m sure there is someone,” he tried again, unwilling to drop the subject.
“I mean …” she hesitated, “there is one.”
“So why not ask him?”
Gods, she will have to tell him everything, won’t she?
But then again, she didn’t see why not. He didn’t know anyone except Alya due to her Ladyblog and maybe her boyfriend Nino, so it wasn’t like he could tell anyone.
“It’s … umm…” She tapped her fingers on the fence and realised that part of the full moon was peeking from the rain clouds. “I … have a crush on them,” she confessed, “Had it for a while now, ever since he … It was raining and he gave me his umbrella, so … Yeah …”
“I’m sure you could still make it work.”
“Nooo… that’s the thing,” she whined, burying her face in her hands yet again to hide from her own embarrassment, “He is in love with someone else. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or mess up his chances with this other girl. He doesn’t deserve that. He is so kind and sweet and smart and amazing and I’m just … me.
“I stopped trying to tell him about my feelings when I learned he likes someone else but it’s been really hard to stop loving him, you know? He’s just … Agh!” she threw her arms in the air in frustration, “Why does he have to be so perfect?!”
“I’m sure he isn’t that perfect,” her crime-fighting parter commented.
“You don’t get it! I messed up and confessed to him today!”
“Hey, that doesn’t sound too bad,” he said cheerfully, making Marinette wonder how had he managed to handle 4 years of her rejections.
“I messed up our friendship, I made him uncomfortable and now he hates me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“That’s because you are not him!” she screamed at him, making him look at her in pure horror. “Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean …” She stepped back and raised her hands. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’m so so sorry for yelling, I swear I didn’t mean it, I—”
“Drink my blood.”
She froze mid speaking, her whole body turning into ice.
He was not just suggesting what she though he was suggesting.
“Are you crazy?!” Her question came out high-pitched. To her great embarrassment it cracked when she continued, “How can you even ask me that! You are my par—”
Shit. Abort mission, abort mission, abort mission …
“—Parisian superhero! You need to protect Paris and if I hurt you —”
“You’re not going to,” he cut her off, “I know you won’t. I trust you.”
“I don’t even trust myself!”
Before she could back even further away he was standing in front of her, grabbing her shoulders (claws still in) to steady her and staring right into her very soul. “Marinette. I know trust goes both ways but I think I trust you enough for the both of us.”
“Chat …”
His grip tightened and the leathered fingers dig into her sleeping top. The moonlight fell on his side profile, making his mask silver. The kwami of destruction gave him gorgeous emerald eyes that watched the girl carefully and making her painfully aware of the possibility that just one wrong word, one wrong gesture could make him figure out her superhero identity. As much as she dreamed of the day they could learn who was behind the mask, she didn’t want that moment to happen just yet. Not when she was a bloodthirsty mess with a broken heart and in a pinch too little pyjama shorts.
She became painfully aware of the last part and blushed, looking away.
It was almost summer and she already had to switch from a heavy blanket to a simple bedsheet to stop herself from boiling alive. She would have put on a pair she hadn’t outgrown last year, if she knew a certain black cat will visit her balcony.
Except it weren’t a street cat’s but human boy’s eyes that were piercing her body and staring directly into her soul. It was both embarrassing and a touch invasive.
Ugh, why am I so embarrassed about it anyway? He is my partner, for gods’ sake and has seen me — well, Ladybug — in much more inconvenient situations, she told herself.
“I don’t know how I’ll react,” she confessed, “That’s why I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt you, Chat Noir.”
‘Kitty’.
She wanted to call him ‘Kitty’.
Saying his full name in that kind of vulnerable situation felt bitterly dishonest in her mouth.
“You won’t,” he assured her, “Like you said, I am a superhero. I think I can handle a little hungry vampire.” He winked at her but she saw right trough him.
Somehow, even without her mask, he managed to do the same to her.
“It’s my job to take care of people of Paris,” he told her, “And I take my job very, very seriously.”
Goosebumps ran up her spine.
“Bloodlust only works if you are in love with your donor, right?”
“Y-yes?”
“Do you love me, Marinette?”
“No, but I—”
“Then bite me.”
At this point it would be better if he told her to kiss him.
She shoved him away. “I can’t. I won’t!” She hated how pathetic she sounded. “I can’t ask you to do it!”
“You are not asking. I’m offering.”
She blinked. “You are sure?”
“Sure?” he threw his head back and laughed, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life.”
Marinette head was spinning. The lack of blood was making her dizzy and irritated and acting irrational and completely crazy. The late patrol nights were getting to her, drawing dark circles under her eyes she could no longer hide with the strongest concealer or forced positive attitude. Her nails were leaving marks on the school ward bench from all hours she was forcing herself to not think how someone’s blood tasted like and last week’s Physics assignment was showed in the back of her desk drawer, since she couldn’t stop thinking how easy it would be to transform into Ladybug and bite some poor Parisian’s head off.
She was so weak, she couldn’t fight all thoughts that came very much unwelcomed into her messy brain. No matter how bad and strong and highly inappropriate they were she could do nothing but sit with them while everyone else’s biggest problem was the correct answer on multiple choice exam.
All but one.
“Chat Noir … I’m so hungry …”
He let out a breath and pulled her in a tight warm hug. “I know, Princess. I know.” His breath brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke. “I got you. It’s all going to be okay.”
A quiet sob escaped her and was muffled in his chest. “Please help me.” She hadn’t realised just how much she meant it till she said it. “Please, Chaton.”
“Shhh… It’s alright,” he rested his chin on top of her head and rocked them slightly, “I’ll help you.”
“A-and you won’t get hurt?”
He hugged her stronger. “I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Their bodies parted and Marinette got a strange sense of déjà-vu. The connection, the trust they just shared was the same as the one they had before they went into a particularly hard battle with the most bizarre plan.
Huh. They truly were the perfect team — even if only one of them knew it.
“Okay,” Marinette nodded.
A bright smile spread on his face, so wide it threaten to actually touch his cat ears. “Thank you, mademoiselle.”
A short hoarse laugh escaped her, though it was genuine, even if just for a second. “Am I not supposed to be the one thanking you?” She shook her head and pointed behind him. “Could you umm… sit on that deckchair? It will be easier for me to reach your neck and umm… it’s safer in case you’ll get dizzy.”
He did as he was told and rested his elbows on the wooden sides.
She looked around the balcony to see if she could find something to sit on herself. “Huh. I guess I could sit in the empty plant pot?”
They simultaneously realised it was too small but if she simply stood next to him and bend down she could lose balance. Then she tried sitting on the armrest on the deckchair, however, it turned out it was installed at unfortunate angle and made it close to impossible get a good access to his neck.
The could move downstairs to her bedroom but they would risk waking up her parents with the smell of his blood.
With each passing second Marinette got more frustrated and like he knew she might back out, Chat Noir told her she could just sit in his lap.
Heat shot into her cheeks. “Won’t it get too awkward?”
He gave her a knowing look. “I have carried you bridal style on multiple occasions, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, but still,” she crossed her arms, getting defensive, “Won’t it be too much?”
He reached behind him and grabbed a puffy pink pillow, setting it on top of his thighs. “Would you prefer to have this between us?”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need it.”
“Me neither,” he said and put it behind his back again.
“Okay, cool.”
“Cool.”
They stared at each other for moment, daring the other to make a move. At the end Marinette sighed and slowly approached him.
“You don’t have to be so careful,” he told her, “You can put your whole bodyweight on me, Princess.”
She hesitated for a second, then did as she was told and sank into his lap. As Ladybug she knew his legs were strong and rock solid but as Marinette she pretended it caught her by surprise and she shifted her hips to find a more comfortable position.
“See?” he told her, “Not awkward at all.”
She nodded in agreement. “You are right. Sorry.” She looked down at her hands. “I just don’t want to force you into something you might regret later.”
His face softened, a cocky grind disappearing like it was never there. “I appreciate your thoughts, Princess, but you should really start thinking of yourself first.”
She had no idea what to say to that and instead told what she knew she would have to eventually. “Lay back and relax. Maybe tilt your head,” she instructed him and helped him adjust at the right angle, “It’s the easiest to drink from your left side of the neck.”
“Why not the right?” he asked out of pure curiosity.
“Oh. Just personal preference.”
“Mhm, okay, okay,” he nodded slightly, “Please continue.”
“If anything starts feeling wrong, you’ll tell me immediately. We can have a safe word like a … hmm…”
“You are making it sound like we are about to have sex.”
“Chat!” she cried and slapped him on his chest.
“Sorry, sorry!” he raised his hands in a mocking apology, “I’ll stop.”
She rolled her eyes, though slightly more relaxed then before. “The safe word will be … lotus.”
“Hmm… I like it. Any specific reason?”
“It’s my favourite flower,” she shrugged, “and it’s easy to pronounce.”
He gave her a goofy thumbsup in agreement. “Anything else I should know? Apart from the venom and your healing abilities — I already know about those two.”
She though about it for a second, though she didn’t need to. “Unless I turn into a bloodthirsty monster that’s about it,” she tried to joke but it only made her stomach feel sick. “Umm… Chat, if that happens, your safety is your first priority. I’m not going to die or get hurt or anything if you — I don’t know — push me away or … yeah, pretty much everything …”
“I understand but it’s not going to happen.”
“But w-what if …”
“Hey … look at me, Marinette,” he gently grabbed the bottom of her chin and made her look back at him. “Everything will be okay. Trust me.”
And for some stupid reason she did.
She let him guide her to his neck and she pressed her soft lips to it. Her hand travelled to his nape, burying her thin fingers into his blond locks. The other one wrapped around his broad shoulder.
Before she could think of another reason this might be a terrible idea, her fangs shot out of enamel and she bit his neck.
He hissed a bit but the venom kicked in less than second later. Though the smell of his warm blood made her mouth water, she waited till he fully relaxed back into the cushion and only then allowed herself to taste it.
Fuck.
It tasted amazing.
It was like he was fed hot chocolate and croissants. It wasn’t sweet exactly, just warm and welcoming and …
Safe.
That was the word she was searching for.
His blood took away all her worries — No! Wait, wrong. It didn’t take them away, she was still very much aware of them. His blood — he — made them look manageable. Achievable. Much less scary and just … perfectly normal.
For how long has she been bottling up her nightmares and fears?
For how long had she been believing she was some kind of monster?
Gods, his blood was the best thing she had ever tasted, but it gave her so some much more than just that.
She took the next gulp and let it spread warmth down her gullet and set in her empty stomach.
The next one was even better, making her moan into his neck. She curled her fingers, digging deeper into his skin.
“Nngh … Fuck, Mari …” His voice was rough and breathless.
“Chat?” she breathed her question.
“Don’t stop.”
She pressed her body harder against his chest and sucked deeper. A little whine that escaped him made her mind spin. If she knew he could make sound like that, she would have done it much sooner, she decided.
Her nostrils widened as she inhaled his scent. His cologne mixed with the metal taste of his blood and the sweet aroma of Parisian pastry. Though he was in a suit she could feel his heart as it pulsated against her wet lips and hear his uneven breaths.
And his pleas.
“Please … yeah … Just like that— Fuck.”
She put more weight in his lower belly, pressing into his belt. It allowed her get an even better access to him, to his blood as she drank it hungerly like she couldn’t get enough of it. It was addicting and making her own body feel like it was set in fire, yet she had never felt so safe and accepted like she did in that moment. She wished they could stay like this forever and tried to stretch this moment to as long as the time would allow them.
Then a scream cut through the night.
Marinette pulled away in horror, thinking that it was Chat Noir but was met with the same concern in his eyes. As the cry sounded again, they realised it was coming from another building, less then four blocks away.
“An akuma,” he muttered, shadow crossing his face.
Of course on the one night they decide to cancel their patrol an akuma attack happens.
“Y-your neck,” Marinette gasped, noticing he was still bleeding, “Shit! Let me close it …”
She put her lips on his red skin and started licking around the wound. It close in the mere seconds, leaving only two barely visible white dots. For some reason, which Marinette wasn’t ready to face, seeing him marked — marker by her — filled her with pride.
Only to realise that something was different.
“Did you …?” she started but cut herself short.
Moan my name?
Told me to not stop?
Begged for more?
She couldn’t and wouldn’t ask him that, not when they needed to fight an akuma at fucking one in the morning.
“Blood loss!” she exclaimed instead and jumped out of his embrace. “You umm… the blood and that … the umm…” Despite her newfound strength she couldn’t get the words out if her mouth. “I love you— Your help!”
Crap. Focus Marinette!
“But you must eat something. Sugar, wait here— I mean,” she rubbed her temples, “I’ll get you some sugar. Wait here and don’t go.”
She couldn’t look at him as she sprinted to the trap door. In the hurry she fell into her bed, waking Tikki, and then stumbled down her ladder, ending face first on the hard floor. Ignoring her aching elbow and pulsating forehead, she limped to her desk and picked the leftover croissant.
Just as she was about to go back the way she came, her bedroom window flew open and Chat Noir on its frame. She realised the rain had started falling and that it didn’t plan on stopping soon. His wet hair stuck to his forehead yet still didn’t lose its entire volume making him look …
No, she ordered herself, Do not think about how handsome he looks with his wet hair — Oh, shoot!
Pushing her thought to the side, she stepped around her the chaise lounge with her parents’ sweet pastry in her hand.
Without much thinking she shoved the croissant in his half opened mouth. “Here,” she said, “So that you’ll be able to fight the akuma. A-and for letting me drink your blood.”
He took a bite out of the golden croissant and held it in his gloved hand. “I’ve told you,” he said with a grind, “I take my job very, very seriously.”
He gave her a wink (the bastard!), then took her hand and pressed a light kiss on top of it. “And I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”
A lighting struck and its thunder followed her mistress shortly after. It unilluminated his face features and gave his words a depth she couldn’t see before. Everything seemed to stop and the time held his breath.
Heat coloured her cheeks and goosebumps ran up her back.
“Till next time, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he bowed and disappeared into the night.
All she could do was stare after him, her knees weak and her mind oblivious to Tikki’s voice telling her she needed to transform.
Did she …
No! Nope! That was a worry for another time!
First she needed to defeat the stupid akuma.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Chat Noir finished Marinette’s croissant in three bites and was now jumping from a rooftop to a rooftop to get to the akuma. He knew he will have to call Ladybug and he hoped she will miraculously show up.
Who was he kidding? She always showed up.
He just hoped she will give him a couple more minutes to catch his breath and clear his head. Despite the cold rain he felt his whole body burning and he knew for certain that the colour of his face resembled the one of Ladybug’s suit.
It turned even darker as he glanced down.
Yeah, the thing on which Marinette was sitting on, the most definitely wasn’t his belt.
He was so fucked.