ScarlettStamp
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Summary
Marinette took the internship to learn more about fashion, not to babysit a model with a snack dependency. But Adrien Agreste isn’t just any model: he’s irritatingly handsome, bizarrely charming, and completely unreadable.
He’s late, lazy, and always lounging with a latte.
She’s organized, focused, and very much over his antics.
Or at least, she’s trying to be.
Because for some reason, Adrien keeps talking to her. Keeps watching her. Keeps showing up like they’re friends. And Marinette doesn’t know what’s worse—how hard he’s trying, or how much she’s starting to notice.
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Marinette's decided that Adrien is her mortal academic rival. Adrien, meanwhile, thinks they’re becoming friends.
She glares. He smiles. She studies twice as hard. He thanks her for helping him understand the homework.
It’s exhausting being in a one-sided enemies arc—especially when he keeps being nice about it.
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She stole her macaron back and attempted to leave the conversation. The entire day had been one disappointment after another, and she was not letting Felix become another, he, however, had a different agenda.
Swiftly, he pressed her into the wall and placed his hands over her head,
“I could help you,” he offered with a smirk.
Marinette looked at him disinterestedly,
“Yeah, and I’m Clara Nightingale.”
He leaned in to emphasize his point,
“I’m being serious. I could actually help you.”
- american high school au in new york + intern Marinette, in which Félix hatches a plan to help her finally get with Adrien Agreste in exchange for her help in stealing the Graham de Vanily Twin Rings
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Adrien gets a girlfriend and Marinette is forced to watch his attempts at love.
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For pure curiosity, she held the blue yarn mallets in her hand and began to play a few notes on the marimba. A few notes soon became a familiar melody two years ago from the last concert she performed in. She sighed, there was so much that band had given her.
Friends, fun high school memories, her first real crush on first chair percussionist Adrien Agreste. She breathed in the air of the room, all too aware that she was now a foreign presence inside it.
Slowly, she backed away from the marimba ready to sit on her old chair one last time before leaving and completing homework. Instead, she hit a hard chest as a pair of large hands held her shoulders.
“Marinette? What are you doing here?”
- american high school au in new york + band dynamics